#sorry ive been gone! been working 2 gigs at once

[daily-dragon-drawing]

Can you draw a gummy wyrm? 😂

#109 - 軟糖 (ruǎn táng / gummy) - She's green apple and blue raspberry flavored :3c 🍏🫐🍓

[writingsfromhome]

Nuclear Family V

Part Five: Some Things Never Change

A/N: I’ve reread and rewrote and finally wrapped this up! It got really long because I didn’t want to drag it into another part, but I did include an epilogue--I couldn’t help myself. Hope it lives up to the expectations! And thank you x100000 again for reading along <3

Part I / Part II / Part III / Part IV / Part V

---------------

The next morning, we sit down together and soothe Charlie's worries. Harry holds my hand at one point and we play the best acting gig either of us have ever played as we pretend there's not a ginormous unspoken trilogy between us. Charlie's tentative at first, but when Harry pulls her onto his knee and whispers something to her. She breaks into a giggle and hugs him. At least that was patched over, I think. But when Harry meets my eyes over her head, I look away. Some things might never be patched over.

I’d set up a play date this morning, thinking Charlie might have needed a distraction. It also gave me time to pack our things without her to distract me or feel the emotional baggage I was packing up too.

I had planned to find an air bnb, waking up at 7am to start searching. But when I updated Marc after he asked what I was doing that evening, he insisted we stayed with him. We’d lived together before, and he was almost always at work, so it gave us enough space.The best part was he lived in the same building as Harry; it was almost too perfect, and when I’d asked Charlie she was totally on board. Spending time with Marc while being able to take the elevator to see her dad sounded just sounded like her play place had expanded.

After Charlie leaves, and I’m almost done packing, I look for Harry to talk. I find him toweling his hair after his shower. He had to head out for shooting today so I needed to speak to him before he left or else he would think I slighted him. He notices me in the foggy mirror and turns, and I try not to find the towel tied around his waist distracting.

“Hey, so...I’ll be out of your hair today...no pun intended.” I laugh lamely after he continues to stare at me blankly. Okay, maybe his towel was more distracting than I’d like to admit. And this was an awkward conversation when we had so many unspoken things between us. “Um, so I found other accommodations finally. So we’ll move out and it’ll be like we planned initially?”

“Huh?” Harry freezes, arms in midair.

“I don’t know why it took me this long to find another place,” I blabber on. “But I think yesterday was kind of a wake up call? I shouldn’t have stayed this long anyway and-”

“Wait, Y/N, stop. You’re leaving?”

“Just the flat,” I finally look at him, he looks stony. “We’ll actually just be a few floors down staying with Marc, so it’s kind of perfect.”

“Marc?” A flame lights itself in his eyes, usually the colour of a spring field, they’ve now turned into a field of ashes as he realises what I’m saying. “You’re moving out? To Marc’s? Because of yesterday?”

“Yes, that’s what I just said.” I try to remain calm, but it’s hard when he’s acting like this. “Harry, yesterday just made me realise I’d lost sight of the horizon or whatever. We were never supposed to live with you for this reason! We knew when we planned this that it would complicate things. I was just so obsessed with making Charlie’s birthday perfect I didn’t look for anywhere else, and her birthday was basically disastrous so that was useless. Now you can live freely, Miranda can come and go-”

“Oh and living with Marc won’t confuse Charlie?” Harry demands.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I think you know exactly what that mean Y/N. You’re being a bloody hypocrite-”

“What?!” I can’t keep the calm anymore. “I’m a hypocrite?”

“Yes! You! You think Charlie seeing Miranda and me together would confuse her yet you’re taking her to your boyfriend’s house-”

“Who said anything about my boyfriend--and how dare you sound so judgemental about that! Sorry I didn’t get the memo; Harry can have a girlfriend but Y/N can’t! She’s got to be the single virgin mother all by herself!”

“That’s not what I said!”

“No, I think it’s what you were trying to say! Being so fucking judgemental about my love life. This isn’t my fault! I’m not asking you shit, Harry!”

“What the fuck Y/N!” Harry whips the towel he was using for his hair onto the ground. My heart beats erratically in my chest; the last time we fought like this it was because I’d told him I was pregnant and it had ended really ugly. But the way he got under my skin, as hard as I wanted to be the mature one, I couldn’t. “You don’t have to be so bloody sarcastic all the time! I just don’t understand how living with Marc will be any better!”

“Marc’s barely every home, and he’s lived with us before, it’s worked out fine. Charlie adores him-”

“Oh yeah I bet she does! You would’ve loved it if Marc was her father yeah? He’s always had a thing for you, even when we were together. Now’s your chance to be a perfect little family with Marc!”

“I did not say that, don’t put words in my mouth-”

“Oh, but I think that’s what you were trying to say,” Harry mocks me. He’s a ball of rage as he stalks towards me. “I don’t understand your obsession with this guy and why he’s so close to Charlie!”

“You know Marc! We’ve been friends with him for-wait why am I defending myself? This isn’t about that!”

“Well I think it should be!”

“Where are you going with this Harry?!” I shout, putting my hands out to his chest as he continues walking towards me, as if maybe I could shield myself from his growing fury. “I don’t want to fight! I’m just trying to do what’s best for Charlie. And for us.” 

We stare at each other, uncomfortably close, chests heaving as the fire crackles low.

“Well, too late for that.” He says, but the snark is gone. “I’ve finally got Charlie living with me and you’re taking her away.”

“I-I’m not taking her away.” My voice rises immediately. “Don’t you dare say I’m taking her away!”

“You are!” He says stubbornly.

“What the fuck do you expect? You want me to stick around so it’s you, me, and Charlie? You want me to stay here and be miserable, have our kid be confused about what’s going on with who?”

“I don’t want you to be miserable, I just want us in one place!”

“We’re not this perfect little nuclear family you have in your head! We can’t be!”

“Not when you’re bringing the nuclear into the family,” Harry mutters immaturely.

“Oh my god, what’s wrong with you?!” I want to pull my hair out.

“What’s wrong with me is you’re taking away my daughter from me!”

My blood was just boiling now. I get in his face, “Harry, do you not remember that you never wanted us? You had the option to stay with me, while I was pregnant with Charlie. You had the option to hold your daughter the day she was born. You could’ve had all of it. Every step of the way! You chose not to, you let me go, you-you told me I could go...” I break off suddenly, so I didn’t sob as the memories rush back. I told everyone I was over it, I had processed it. But when Harry rejected me, he also rejected Charlie and I never got over that.

Harry hears my breath hitch, he backs away from my outstretched hands and I let them drop.

After a heavy silence, Harry speaks up: “Y/N I’m sorry. I heard what you said yesterday. I was up all night just thinking about it...”

“Well that’s wonderful for me,” I retreat into the comfort of sarcasm.

“No--you were right, I didn’t want commitment. I was bloody afraid of it. I was listening to everyone who said if I had a kid, my career would be over. I wanted to stay young, and I just let you deal with it by yourself. I was selfish and I wish I could go back and change everything.”

“Well that’s not much help now; you never once said any of this to me! You moved on--don’t deny it. I saw you in the tabloids, the media. You don’t think I kept track of you? I loved you! You’re the father of my kid, and while I was up on less than an hour of sleep trying to get your 2 month old to stop crying at 3am, you were out partying with models and getting smashed.”

“I couldn’t-I just spiraled-”

“Well it’s nice that your spiraling looks so much like partyingl” I roll my eyes. “Mine looked like crying in the bathtub with my ears ringing, and covered in baby vomit.” I cross my arms. I had held it in for four long years, it was about time I snapped, and I guess this was it.

“Y/N.” he turns away from me, rubbing his face. When he turns around, his heart is on his sleeve. “There were so many times I would pick up my phone and type in your number, just to hear your voice. Just to ask you about Charlie--it ripped me apart that I wasn’t there. That you weren’t here, with Charlie. You’d send me pictures of her and I would get so excited to see what she was up to, what new thing she learned...”

He breaks off, his face now shining with tears. He walks up to me and holds my hands, my heart tugs and I know I’m crying too. “Y/N when I held her for the first time when she was a few months old, and she looked up at me and smiled. I didn’t even know I could love like that. So I changed Y/N--tell me you saw me doing anything reckless after that first visit. I made sure I grew up so I could always be there for her. And you. But you never talked to me. You were always so cold to me and I was scared to break the ice. So I just let you raise her without me, not realising what I was missing out on. I fucking missed all of it because I was just trying find the perfect words to get this off my chest and I never found them.”

“Harry-” I sigh. “You could’ve tried. But...you moved on though. You have a girlfriend-”

“I had to try to move on,” he explains urgently. “You barely spoke to me. I’d ask how you are and you wouldn’t always reply, our texts were only about Charlie. You never invited me over when I was in LA. I thought you didn’t care about me so I had to move on, and the way we ended things I didn’t blame you! I let you know I would be there for Charlie--but I had to move on because I didn’t think we would ever have another shot.”

“I didn’t know what to say to you when you came over Harry. The way we left things before I moved back home, It was awful.” I whisper. The words he’d said, the things I said, the broken glass and just hours of fighting. Then the panic attacks and crippling fear of not knowing what I was doing with my life. It was easy to let it harden you, rather than invite it back in.

“The way I let you leave...was awful.” He agrees. “So I’m asking you now to stay Y/N.”

“And do what?” I ask, didn’t he get it? “Sit around while your girlfriend is over all the time, have her pop in with her own key while I’m only just woken up looking like a troll? Let you kiss me in the dark when she’s not around? Have her ignore me like I’m not even there?”

Harry has the decency to look embarrassed, dropping my arms. He sighs, and looks at me with regret. “This is balls up.”

“Yeah, I know Harry. That’s why I’m finding other accommodations.”

“I don’t like it’s with Marc.”

“I don’t care Harry, you don’t have any say over who I stay with.”

“But Charlie-”

“She can stay with you when she wants,” I agree. “I know you’ve got a shoot all week so it’s a good week to be out.”

“I like coming home to you two.”

“Harry,” I warn him. He couldn’t afford to speak like this when he had a girlfriend. I didn’t want to fall for him again. He made it hard not to.

“I don’t like it but I can’t stop you.” He concedes, arms crossed over his chest. I skim over the bare flesh, taking in the ink that Charlie loved to ask a million questions about. He notices me looking and I catch the cocky grin on his face.

“I’m looking at the ink,” I say, even though I didn’t have to defend myself.

“I know,” he shrugs but the grin stays on his face. I roll my eyes and head back to finish packing but he pulls me back to him and suffocates me against his bare chest. “I’m sorry, for then. For now. Forever.”

He lets me go but he keeps his arms around my waist. I look up at him and for the first time in a long time, I see my old Styles. Confident, determined, and a little cocky. The one I fell hard for.

“Noted,” I say, not giving in this easily, I still had to process this whole conversation and figure out what this thing between Harry and I meant.

A low chuckle bursts out from him as he stares down at me. “I miss you,” he says.

“I’m right here,” I say, stepping back so he lets me go. I leave him with a smile on his face, not ignoring the way he said he misses me. Without even realising it, my feelings of resentment had begun to slip away. But I still knew space would be best for both of us.

***

It’s Thursday evening, Charlie was with Harry having dinner at his mum’s place. Marc’s edition is officially in printing and he’s home at a decent enough hour that I put aside my work and share a glass of wine with him.

“Sounds intense,” Marc says to me after I give him the details of mine and Harry’s fight. Since then, we’d have breakfast as a family once but I did text him beyond just talking about Charlie. Pictures, memes, old memories, the occasional pointless text. It was sort of nice having him in my life again.

Charlie was going to work with him tomorrow, and she was so excited about that. It gave me time for alone time, and to catch up with Marc.

“It was intense, it felt like the old Y/N and Harry.”

“Uh oh. I don’t miss them,” Marc huffs. “You’re a lot nicer now, and he’s not as much of a cocky bastard anymore.”

“Wow, tell me how you really feel.” I tease. But he was right, back then I was young and sassy and I wasn’t afraid to let the world know. Marc and I had met when he reached out to me to write an article for his magazine and it was a coincidence that Marc and Harry knew each other from cover shoots. Marc used to be a photographer.

“I like this Y/N better,” Marc leans into me, his voice deepening. “She’s kind and strong and gorgeous, and the best part is she lets me kiss her.”

He pauses in front of my face and I lean the rest of the way in to let him know he could. That’s all the signal he needs. Our drinks abandoned, we quickly move into the bedroom and I can’t believe I forgot how good it felt to be wanted like this.

***

The next time I’m in Harry’s flat, I’m picking Charlie up. She stayed with him, but Miranda had surprised him by showing up early right after her flight landed. His short text made me get up there right away, after what happened the last time Charlie saw Harry and Miranda together, I wasn’t sure if she would misbehave.

But oddly, she’s mostly quiet.

“Did you have fun?” I ask Charlie, as she eats her cereal slowly. Her back is to the hall Harry stands in and it was a good thing as Miranda drapes herself across him. Unfortunately, I had to see it; I guess she got the memo that Charlie knew what was going on, and she was okay with it--or as okay as a four year old could be.

“It was so cool mom,” Charlie says. “There was so many rooms and one was space! It had the moon and there was a castle and they made the explosion sound and...” Charlie explains in no sensible order everything she saw at the studio, and I listen to her spill out her excitement but every so often my eyes drift to where Miranda shamelessly reunites with Harry. It makes my stomach turn. Especially after the conversation we had. I wasn’t an idiot, I knew Harry wasn’t going to rearrange his whole life because we’d finally had the Talk about what happened between us all those years ago. It was just watching them, and knowing that that was Harry moving on. From me...when I never fully moved on from him. It was pathetic, I know.

“Have you had coffee yet?” Harry asks a little while later after he’s unhooked Miranda’s claws from him and made his way to the kitchen. Charlie is slowing down her speech but when Harry appears she launches into more questions about set and when his “movie” would come out (it was a music video).

“No, I saw your text as soon as I woke up.” I say, between Charlie’s breaths. IT seemed she was going to be a while. “I could use a cup.”

“I heard you’re staying with Marc,” Miranda suddenly comes up and sits at the table, addressing me. “He’s a nice guy, I’ve worked with him in the past. Easy on the eyes too.”

“I’m right here,” Harry holds up my empty cup and looks pointedly at her. She winks and I nearly vomit.

I smile instead, “Yeah. He’s a really good friend, and Charlie loves him. And he lives downstairs so it worked out really well.”

“Yeah,” she smiles. This was the most she’s said to me since she got here. I watch as she glances at Harry who’s making my coffee the way I like it. “I heard you two are really good friends.”

Yeah...” I didn’t like what she was insinuating. I look up at Harry but he’s suddenly very interested in the sugar. “I can do that.” I grab it from him and make sure to glare at him as he passes it to me.

“We should do like, a double date.” She suggests. “Harry, don’t you think that would be fun? You and me, Y/N and Marc?”

“What about me?” Charlie pouts.

“You and Gemma!” Harry looks at me. “I forgot to mention, Gemma wanted to take Charlie out, spend some time with her while she was in London.”

“Perfect!” Miranda sounds almost too excited. It makes me suspicious.

***

When I tell Marc about the double date, he’s more than eager to attend. I know he just wanted to annoy Harry. I was nervous what this all meant.

But somehow I find myself standing with Marc in front of the restaurant while I try to prepare myself for whatever the evening held for us. Marc eventually just grabs my hand, winks, and pulls me in even though I wanted to just stay outside for a bit longer. Maybe a lot longer. Maybe just never go in.

As dinner goes on, things grow more and more awkward. Miranda is chatting up Marc about their old shoots, Harry grows more irritated as Marc receives all the attention, and his eyes track Marc’s hand any time it’s near me. I knock back my wine, as does Harry. Miranda continues to chat up Marc, and I inhale the food when it finally comes simply because the whole situation was stressful.

“The food’s good here,” I comment but only Harry hears me over the other conversation at the table.

“I always wanted to take you here,” Harry comments. “It has the best victoria sponge I’ve ever had.”

“You know I hate victoria sponge,” I scrunch my nose.

“I know!” Harry laughs which seems to get the table’s attention. His laugh usually did, as I’ve said. “That’s why you have to try it, you’ll finally like it.”

“Like what?” Marc asks.

“Victoria sponge,” I cringe visibly which makes him laugh.

“I think she loves cheesecake too much, right?” I know Marc is remembering the night I came to his house after a big fight with Harry, he’d bought a cheesecake for his then-girlfriend but I’d cried into it and finished the whole thing in one sitting. He’d had to improvise with cupcakes the next day. I still feel bad about that.

“Y/N is a cheesecake fanatic,” Harry says a little aggressively.

“Cheesecake’s way too fattening,” Miranda says absentmindedly, not realising what she was implying.

When the table grows awkwardly silent, Harry tries to come to her rescue. “That’s when you know it’s good food.”

“Touche,” I tip my glass just to have an excuse to have something to do and...well, drink.

At the end of the night, Harry asks if we want to go back to his place. I say no as Marc says yes and because he had the louder voice that’s what we do. I shoot him a dirty look but he only winks at me. He was having way too much fun.

Harry excuses himself and joins us in the Uber late. In his hands is a box with victoria sponge.

***

“Do you think he knows I’m not your boyfriend?” Marc asks later that night. We’d drank another bottle of wine and everyone was a bit more...vocal than before. What started out as fun stories from our younger days, quickly turns into passive aggressive comments as Harry stared a hole at Marc’s hand on my thigh, and Miranda stared at Harry staring at Marc’s hand on my thigh. She’d asked to speak to him midway through and now they were arguing in another room where every so often we caught some of their argument.

“You can’t even take your eyes off..............a bloody cake? You didn’t even think to.........I don’t get it!” That was Miranda.

“Thinking too much..........stop........of course I love you.......Charlie’s mom!” and that was Harry.

“I just knew this dinner would go like this,” Miranda says loudly.

“So you’re testing me now?” 

“Yes Harry, that’s obvious isn’t it Y/N?” Marc comments beside me.

“You’re having too much fun,” I lean my head back and sigh against the headrest.

“I have a stressful job, I don’t go out often. Can you blame me for being mildly entertained here?”

“Ugh...yeah okay me too.” I look over at him and he laughs. I hated the tension it was causing between Harry and I but I couldn’t help the small petty satisfaction of showing Miranda up after she tried to steal the show at dinner tonight. “What happened to the flight attendant you were seeing?”

“She took a flight out of London and never called me back?”

“Poor you,” I pat his shoulder. “We’re just not cut out for relationships are we?”

Marc shakes his head solemnly. I sigh, the alcohol making me more melodramatic than I was. “We’re finding my ex and his girlfriend arguing, entertaining. Who am I?”

“This is why we get along,” Marc leans into me, he smelled good. “Two boring people, getting our petty kicks with other people’s drama.”

“I think this is kind of my drama too,” I groan.

"Then I guess it’s kind of my drama too,” Marc says happily.

“You’re serious,” I say, leaning my head back against the sofa again, too tired to say anything else.

“I always have your back,” Marc says and I open my eyes just as he nuzzles a kiss against my exposed neck, and Harry walks into view.

“Harry,” I sit up and Marc jolts up as I nearly knock my head into his. Harry looks roughened up, his hair lays every which way as if he ran a rake through it. His face is flushed yet he stares at Marc like he wants to pop his head off.

“I’m really sorry, I’m going to have to call it a night. Miranda is...we have to talk and-”

“Yep, yep, we’re out.” I don’t need to be asked twice. Neither does Marc. Marc heads immediately to the door but I pause by Harry.

“Sorry...” he apologizes again. He looks like a lost puppy which is what makes me press a quick kiss to his cheek.

“We’ll talk in the morning. Gemma is dropping Charlie off around noon.”

“Okay,” Harry looks over my head to Marc, who is opening the door to give us some privacy. He looks back at me, searching my face for something. “I didn’t want the evening to end like this, it’s just...complicated.”

“I get it,” I cut him off, and more gently say again, “I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?”

“Yes please,” he mumbles. Even though Harrys’ done this to himself, I can’t help but feel a little bad. I pat his arm and turn to head out with Marc. Harry could get himself out of the mess if he wanted.

***

I don’t hear from Harry the next morning, before I pick up Charlie, he leaves me a cryptic text that we should probably not go over today. Charlie and I spend the day exploring London some more instead, although she’s tired in a few hours so we end up picking up Marc after work and enjoying dessert by the river.

I still hear nothing on Saturday morning, Charlie asks about Harry and I lie saying he way busy. It’s only around noon that a haggard Harry shows up at Marc’s door. I was helping load the dishwasher so Marc answers the door. It’s the loud shout from Charlie that alerts me to the guest.

I pass Marc on my way to the door, he just raises his eyebrows to say yikes and it’s an understatement when I see him. Messy hair, a five ‘o clock shadow, and he looks like he hadn’t slept.

“You look...rough.” I say while Charlie sits on his back. I almost want to tell her to be fragile with him with the way he looked.

“It’s been a rough couple days.” He comments, his voice scratchy. “I need to talk to you.”

“Charlie, love, go inside for a bit? I’ve got to speak with your dad.”

“Aww,” she moans as Harry helps her dismount.

“I’ll play with you later little monkey,” Harry tickles her and she squeals as she runs away. His eyes follow her with a smile.

“So...” I step into the hall, tilting the door behind me.

“I think Miranda and I broke up.”

“Ah,” that made sense. “What happened?”

“She...it’s so complicated. Why are women so complicated?”

“Woman here,” I point to myself and raise an eyebrow. He shakes his head and sighs.

“Apparently she...set up that double date so I could see you’d moved on. Except, according to her, the way I was acting made her realise she was never going to measure up to you. She...she wanted me to choose between you and her, I told her...” he gulps, leaning against the opposite wall for some support. “It wasn’t the same. You were Charlie’s mum, we would always be in each other’s lives. She made her peace with it but this morning when I woke up I don’t know...I don’t know what I said. She was just gone. She isn’t answering her phone. I thought we were okay, we made up yesterday but today...I don’t know.”

“Wow,” I didn’t know what else to say. I didn’t think she would actually ask him to choose. And now she went AWOL. “Do you know where she might be?”

“I went to her place, her roommate said she thought she was with me. I just don’t want her to do anything rash.”

“Sorry, Harry.” I look him over, I couldn’t help but feel bad for him. Before I could say anything more, Charlie zips outside with the drawings she had done at the museum. She just wanted his attention, and as he takes them from her he smooths his face over and gives her all the excited feedback she wanted. I slip inside and tell Marc we might head up for a bit.

Harry hesitates before letting us in. The place was a mess. Things are strewn about everywhere. A broken lamp sits near the entrance.

“Woah,” I say.

“Woah” Charlie echoes me with more emphasis.

“Ehm,” Harry scratches his head. “I...was trying to find something.”

“You shouldn’t be so messy dad,” Charlie immediately begins walking to her room, like she always belonged here. A small part of me is already sad for when we had to leave.

“Sorry love,” Harry cracks a grin and we exchange a glance.

“D’you need help...?”

“No, come sit. I’ll pour us a drink.”

We sit in the kitchen, sipping our wine in silence. Charlie plays with her toys in the back, a comforting background noise.

I reach my hand out eventually and brush Harry’s hand on the countertop. He looks over at me, zoning back into the present. His smile is small and sad, dimmed and broken like his lamp. I thread my fingers through his and squeeze for comfort. He brings my hand to his lips and kisses it and I try not to look as affected by it as I feel. He lets go after he kisses it.

“Thanks for being cool about this, I didn’t know who to go to.”

He looks so lost, and upset. I want to comfort him but there are no words I can say to do that. I open my mouth to try to say something anyway, but the familiar sound of his front door opening interrupts me before I can.

“Harry?” Miranda’s distinct voice carries over. Harry shoots out of his chair and goes to meet her. I watch on, out of view as she hugs him and apologises. “I just needed to clear my head. Then I got a taxi and ended up near my mum’s. I think I drank too many mimosas. I don’t know Harry, I brought an apology drink...”

She trails off as she spots Charlie laying down with her toys. She looks towards the kitchen and I look away quick enough to not see if she’d seen me or not.;

“I didn’t realise you had...guests.” She says slowly, slower, I can tell her words slur together. She really did have too much to drink.

“My...Charlie came up, her mum’s just in the kitchen.” Harry says, his words loaded with unspoken meaning.

“Oh. So I leave for a few hours and you invite them back.” My eyes bug out as I realise Miranda was planning on rehashing it right here. I get up and move towards Charlie but unfortunately I have to pass by them to get there.

“I was supposed to see Charlie yesterday, I didn’t know where you went! You weren’t picking up I just invited them up-”

“My phone died!” Miranda pushes Harry away and I move quicker towards Charlie, urging her to go play in her room but she stays on the floor stubbornly.

“Miranda please love, let’s not start this here again. Charlie-”

“What about me Harry? I haven’t gotten any attention from you for weeks! I thought we agreed yesterday-”

“They’re just here for the month! I never get to see her Miranda stop being unreasonable.”

“I don’t know why I thought coming back here was a good idea!” Miranda shouts. I pull Charlie up but even she’s frozen in spot watching Miranda. “You’re just never going to love me the way I want to are you? I’m never going to compare against...her. Them. Whatever!”

Harry tries to soothe her but she throws him off again, dropping her bottle to the floor with a thud. She turns to me while I back away to the bedroom with Charlie. “This is what you wanted isn’t it? Him all to yourself? This is why you came here all along? I bet your air bnb didn’t even have a bloody issue! He never wanted you in the first place! Newsflash: he has a girlfriend! Me! Not you-”

“Miranda! Enough.” Harry says and she shuts up. I scoop Charlie up and take her to the room but she starts crying because she dropped Oreo in the living room. I go back for it and Miranda is shouting at Harry, either she was too drunk to care or she was at the end of her stick. Or both. But when she starts to swear Harry tries to move her outside.

“It’s not like she can hear over how loud she’s fucking crying!” Miranda shouts. She really was having this breakdown here, but I pause. I wasn’t okay with her talking about Charlie like that, and I watch as Harry freezes over as he feels the same way.

“Miranda. That’s enough.” He says seriously.

“I’ve had enough Harry,” she’s on the verge of tears. I shuffle back to the bedroom and quiet Charlie down but as soon as she does the shouting gets loud enough that we can hear.

“Why is she yelling at dad?” Charlie asks, her nose red from crying.

“She’s...upset.” I say lamely.

“She shouldn’t yell at him,” she says quietly.

“Sometimes, when you’re that upset it just feels like you have to yell. But you’re right, we shouldn’t yell at each other. They’ll be okay.”

Eventually they quiet down and I feel like a prisoner stuck in the room, wondering when it was okay to leave. Charlie feels the same way because she eventually opens the door when I’m distracted and heads out.

“Charlie,” I whisper from the room but she doesn’t come back. It’s oddly quiet out and when I peep through there’s nobody actually there. I strain my ears and maybe hear them in the bedroom. I guess he’d convinced her to move location.

There’s a feeling in my stomach, like a hard seed rooting in place and pulling up the dirt as it sprouts up into my chest. I suddenly just wanted to go home, back to LA. It felt so complicated here, and I know Charlie felt at home with her dad but I was just a traveler passing through here. London, felt like a home, but it wasn’t my home. And the feeling forces me to sit down on the edge of the couch. Charlie notices my expression and hovers nearby, eventually climbing up beside me and leaning her head on me. I pull her into me and try to work my way out of the funk I found myself in, turning on the TV just so I didn’t have to suffer in silence.

When Harry eventually comes out with Miranda, I’m making a snack for Charlie who stays seated in front of the TV, eyes glued to whatever was on. I try not to think too hard about why they both looked freshly showered, about what this meant for us all. Miranda sits on the couch and Harry hovers over them all watching. From my view in the kitchen, the feeling from before creeps back. Harry catches my eye just then and raises his chin, is everything okay. I smile reassuringly, it takes everything in me to fake it, before resuming my slicing.

I had to get over Harry, I think. On some level, I was still holding onto him and not dating anyone because I continued to compare everyone to how he made me feel. I was vulnerable living with him, I’d made up some version in my head of a family while I lived here and I watched Harry in his fatherly role. Some part of me hoped it would come true. But watching him with Miranda and Charlie like this, he didn’t need me. I was just a past dream, one that felt good to indulge in. Miranda was clearly his future.

“Charlie,” I call her name once I’ve cut up her snack. I stay in the kitchen, where I watch Harry touch Miranda’s shoulder reassuringly. I watch them make up and then watch as she leaves. Harry doesn’t once come into the kitchen, and I try not to show how gutted I feel.

***

I don’t hear from Harry for a few days. Charlie decided to sleep over for a few days, and I’m more than fine with it as I work to meet some upcoming deadlines. Marc pops in and out of his apartment, we have a few meals together but mostly I let myself get lost in my work. Charlie comes up every so often, but she spends most of her time with her dad. With only one week left here, I understand. I didn’t want to be around him, and make it harder for me to move on.

With less than a week to stay, Charlie asks me curiously as I put her to bed,

“Is Uncle Marc your boyfriend?”

“What?” I stare at her, where was that question coming from? Marc and I made sure to keep our distance whenever she was here. “Why would you ask something like that?”

“I dunno. Dad said you cared about Marc.”

“Dad said what?” I breath deeply. For someone who was calling me a hypocrite he outright told Charlie Marc was my boyfriend? “Marc and I are just good friends honey, like you and Carrie. I don’t know why your dad said that.”

“I like Uncle Marc,” Charlie says as she grows sleepy. “He’s nice.”

I grind my teeth, why would Harry say something like that?

I go back to the living room where I was working on an article, Marc sits opposite me working late too. But no matter how many times I read what I wrote, I can’t focus. My mind spins asking why Harry would tell Charlie something like that.

“Where are you going?” Marc asks as I get up suddenly.

“I’m leaving Charlie asleep here,” I pick my sweater off the couch and slip it on. “I need to talk to Harry.”

“It’s 12am,” Marc puts his laptop to the side. “Ohh I see. You don’t have to use code with me love.”

“What?” I’m confused but it clicks a moment later. “Marc don’t be so immature I just need to talk to him about something he said to Charlie.”

“I won’t wait up, don’t worry. Charlie’s fine here.” He resumes working on his laptop and I don’t even bother correcting him. I fly out of the apartment and up to Harry’s. I didn’t care if he was sleeping, I needed to speak to him. I do a quick knock before fiddling with my key, entering the space just as Harry comes into view.

“Y/N?” Harry’s sleepy face stares at me for a beat, his eyebrows furrowed. And suddenly faced with a shirtless Harry, I realise I could have walked in on him doing anything. I didn’t really think this through--Miranda could be over. Shit.

“We needed to talk,” I close the door behind me and stand up straight, ready to lay into him.

“Now?”

“Yes, now. It couldn’t wait.”

“Come in, I guess.” He steps back and I walk into a brighter space, he follows behind.

“Why would you tell Charlie that Marc was my boyfriend? Or we were seeing each other?” I jump right in.

Harry must still be sleep-confused because he sits down on an armchair and stares up at me trying to piece my sentence in his head. My hands on my hips are fists as I wait impatiently.

“I didn’t tell her he was your boyfriend.” He starts slowly. “She just asked why we weren’t hanging out like before and all these questions about--well you know Charlie. So I said it was complicated; we cared about each other but you cared about other people too like Marc.”

“Why bring Marc into this? She doesn’t know anything.”

“I didn’t mean to,” Harry gets defensive. “I was just trying to break it down to her.”

“So you brought Marc and me into her mind as someone I’m with--the reason why we weren’t hanging out like before? As if Miranda and you isn’t excuse enough?”

“Well, not anymore?” He squints up at me.

“Well...why not anymore?” I didn’t follow.

“Y/N...” He stares at me, searching my face as if I was lying but I don’t even know what I would be lying about. I raise an eyebrow. “Miranda and I broke up--that day you were here and she came in, we broke up, I thought you knew that. That’s why Charlie was staying with me for so long, I wasn’t going anywhere.”

“Y-you broke up?” I was stunned, the way it looked to me, they had made up. “Charlie knew?”

“I don’t know. She just thought Miranda wasn’t coming around. I don’t know if it was worth explaining to her.”

“Oh. Wow,” I sit down on the couch, digesting that Harry and Miranda actually broke up that day. All this time I thought he was quiet because they were back together, but he must have been getting over the breakup. And I didn’t even ask him how he was--he must think I was- “Harry I had no idea, I would’ve....done-or said something. If I knew. I’m sorry.”

“I thought you were just staying out of it,” Harry chuckles to himself. “I didn’t realise you didn’t know.”

“The breakup was so...civil. I couldn’t tell! Can you imagine if we broke up like that all those years ago?”

That makes Harry laugh. “Maybe we would have made up quicker.”

“Maybe,” I whisper, playing with the ring on my finger. My mind races as the last few days make a lot more sense. But the only question that lingers on my mind was, why Harry didn’t try to make his move. If all those words he said over the last few weeks were true--why didn’t he try to talk to me? The only thing I can come up with was that he wanted to stay friends. It would get too complicated. “Well, now that that’s cleared I should probably go.”

I stand up as Harry does. He clears his throat, looks up at me like he wants to say something. I wait a moment, and when he doesn’t the awkward starts to settle.

“Sorry for waking you,” I say, trying to signal that I was now leaving.

“Doesn’t matter.” He shrugs it off. “But...aren’t you mad that I told Charlie?”

“Uh, yeah. Kind of,” I try to figure out where he’s going with this. “But, given your circumstances, I’ll let it slide just this once.”

“Oh c’mon Y/N,” There’s a ghost of a smile on his lips. “Don’t give me that. I don’t need your pity-forgiveness.”

“Fine,” I cross my arms playing along. “If that’s what you want, I don’t forgive you.”

“Good. I want to earn my forgiveness.” Harry says, and it sounds like he’s saying one thing but meaning another.

“Okay well, I’ll think of something.”

“I can think of a few things,” he says with a twinkle. I can’t help the laugh that bursts out; he was making me nervous.

“Like what?” I impulsively ask, fuck it I tell myself. If I couldn’t flirt with my daughter’s single dad what was the point, right?

“Hm,” he takes the few steps between us and flashes me a charming smile. “I could get on my hands and knees and beg, or” he tucks a strand of hair behind my ear and his finger traces the curve of my ear down to my neck, his movements slow and his finger dipping borderline dangerous. “I hear jewellery can work.” he taps my chest but just as quickly his hand moves up to cup my face, his thumb brushing my lips, “or I can cook you your favourite meal and watch you enjoy it or...” I keep my eyes on him, trying not to give in, but as soon as he moves his hand up into my hair, I close my eyes without meaning to. He knew my favourite feeling was his fingers in my hair and even now, it was no different.

“Or what?” I whisper, eyes still closed, too afraid of what I’ll see if I open them.

“Look at me,” He whispers. I swallow, he says it again and I finally open my eyes. He’s not even hiding what he wants, but he is holding back. “I don’t want to force you into anything, I want you Y/N...but I know you’re with Marc so if you want me to stop I-”

“Harry,” I cut him off. Marc was right, he really didn’t know--that must be why he left me alone. And now in the midst of this heat, I had to tell him--I’d only played myself: “Marc and I aren’t together. We got together a few times but we were never actually...together.”

“Wait.” his hand leaves my hair and I want to snatch it back. He takes a step away, his eyes flitting at he thinks. “So this whole time?”

I shrug.

“This whole time, you just let me believe you and him...”

I try not to look too guilty as realization dawns on him. When he steps towards me again, his mouth is curved into a smile. And one might think it’s a nice smile, but the look in his eyes, I knew he was gearing up for something, because now he knows I let him believe Marc and I were going out on purpose. And I was going to pay.

“Okay, okay so I can explain,” I hold my hand out but he just keeps walking until I stumble back into the couch I just got up from. He leans over me, and a giggle bursts out from nervousness. “Harry really, I-”

“You let me believe,” he grabs the hand I have raised and envelops it in his, taking away my only defense. “That you were going out with Marc? just to bother me?”

“Well,” I’m at a loss for words as I look everywhere but at his face. “It worked, didn’t it?”

“A little too well,” he murmurs. When I give in and look at him, I'm a goner.

“I'm sorry,” I say. “Really I-”

“You’re not getting away with it that easily.”

“What happened to forgiveness? We can mutually forgive!”

“I’m not that kind of person,” he says. Before I can respond he’s somehow managed to lift me up and sling me over his shoulder.

“This-Harry!” I try to wriggle out but his hands are iron clad on my legs. His apartment floats upside down as he carries me. “I’m sorry! C’mon! This is cruel and unusual punishment! I-”

The breath is knocked out of me as he lays me down on the bed, we look at each other for a moment and then his face cracks into a grin, “Last time I checked, you were into cruel and unusual punishment.”

I laugh, “That was four years ago love, a lot can change in 4 years.”

“Hm,” he leans over me and I crawl up the bed until my head hits the pillow, as he follows. “But some things never change, do they?”

“No,” I stare into his green eyes. They shine with unadulterated joy and adoration. My stomach swarms with butterflies like I’m a teenage girl, like I was Y/N so long ago, excited the hot guy from the party took me home. I hold his face in mine and kiss him with the same joy and adoration. “Some things never change.”

“I love you Y/N,” he says into my neck. I push him up to look at him, he says it again and I can’t stop grinning.

“Are you going to make me wait?” he raises an eyebrow. “Is that my punishment.”

I shake my head, “I think we punished each other enough the last few years.”

He nods in agreement, “That’s deep.”

“So’s my love,” I push the cheesiness which always got him to laugh. He laughs now too, and I feel the small thrill of being the one to do that. “I love you”

“Phew. Now let me kiss you,” he pulls my shirt off effortlessly and our lips meet in the middle, missing each other already.

And as we press into each other, relearning every inch of the other, catching up for all those silent years, we just fit together like we were absolutely made for each other. And truer words didn’t exist: some things never change.

Epilogue

[miraculouscataclyyysm]

Part 10

link to part 9

This part is about just one episode, it’s quite important to the au wich is why Iv given it it’s own part, basically, Lila becomes the peacock miraculous holder, this all takes place after feast but before the battle of the miraculous

Lila is at the Agreste mansion getting tutored by Adrian sins she’s so behind *eye roll* she sees Nathalie faint and Gabriel take the peacock brooch  away from her, she follows Gabriel and sees him go into his secret evil villain layer 

Later she goes up to him and straight-up says “I’d make a much better Mayura than Nathalie” Gabriel is taken back by this “ don’t try denying it, Also I know Adrian isn’t the most perceptive guy but you might wanna try hiding all of this a bit better” Gabriel would be losing his shit right now if he wasn’t so impressed by the girls confidence (Gabriel she literally just called your son and idiot and your impresses? Da fuck)

Gabriel being the stupid, evil, sadistic, terrible father that he agrees to partner with Lila and gives Lila the peace miraculous whenever she will be useful (because that’s gonna end well)

The first time he calls her in to fight she takes full advantage of the situation to cause havoc for the class, she creates a sentimonster version of Adrian, Gabriel pulls Adrian out of school for the day for a modelling gig to keep him occupied, when felix asks what’s going on Nathalie just says “Gabriel has decided to focus more on adrians career, after all hes the real Agreste heir, Gabriel needs to put in some more training time with him so you’ll be driven to school alone” felix just closes his eyes for a second to proses that verbal slap across the face and says “right, I’ll be off then” he decides to walk to school and pick Marinette up his way while Lila sends senti monster Adrian to class

Sentimonster Adrian then walks into the art room where Mari and Alix are helping out marc and nath, it starts off fine, but then at lilas command senti-Adrian switches and starts calling bath and marcs work creepy and disgusting “this isn’t art it’s basically a toned-down version of stalking? Do you really think any of Paris’s heroes wanna see your creepy drawings, this is just fan fictions...neither of you are anything special” Mari is taken back by the outburst, this doesn't seem like the Adrian she's grown to know, Alix, on the other hand, is already at boiling point “like you'd now anything about art Agreste, you have as much depth as a glass of water, and for your information ladybug as seen there comic and loves it, she even asked for a signs comply when it’s complete” “then she clearly has no taste just like i already suspected” that’s when Mari sees this can’t be Adrian “Adrian I think you should leave” once he’s gone she turns to the other three and says “I don’t think that’s Adrian guys” nath-“what do you mean? That sure as hell looked a lot like Adrian to me” Mari-“when has Adrian ever said anything remotely bad about anyone? Especially ladybug?” Marc-“she has a point...we should find Alya, see if she can send lb a warning about a possible Akuma” as there talking Alix slowly backs out of the room to transform

After leaving the art room senti Adrian *being pupeted by Lila* went off to hurt as many people as possible and successfully caused juleka, Alya and max to be akumatised, the key insults *by Lila* being:

To Alya-“the fact you call yourself a real journalist is a joke, your nothing more than a half baked gossip blogger using her so-called hero for attention” to Juleka-“your pathetic, your just a scared, sad, emo princess that’s obsessed with her best friend and has no real opinions for herself *evil chuckle* or her own voice, speak juleka...just speak” to max- “you wanna know why your always alone?” Max-“but I’m not alw” “I’m speaking max! You're always alone because nobody likes a know it all, you make all your friends feel less than, you hurt everyone you love, that’s why you’ll always be alone, forever”

Once she’s transforms lb gets a call from bunnix “finally! Iv been try to get ahold of you for 2 whole minutes lb! We have a possible akuma at dupont” “have you gotten ahold of chat?” B-“radio silence” lb-“this isn’t good” B-“don’t stress red we can Handel an Akuma by ourselves” lb-“I don’t think it’s an Akuma though...I think it’s a sentimonster”

After 5 more minutes of failed calls to chat Lb tracks down Felix and tells him he needs to transform “I can’t get ahold of chat Noir and we have a big issue on our hands” “but there isn’t an Akuma” “but there will be...I BELIVE there’s a sentimonster in the school parading around as your cousin Adrian Agreste” felix just rolls his eyes “of course there is” lb-“ felix there’s no time for your broodyness, so drop the dramatics for now and transform...chop chop”

Chat shows up halfway threw the fight “I’m so sorry bugaboo, I was stuck at the other side of Paris, I couldn’t get away from my civilian duties and faster” lb-“it’s fine chat, Renard Arctique and bunnix have lady wifi, Reflekta and know it all (‘know it all’ is Max’s akumatised name, he has the ability to know everyone’s biggest insecurities and uses it against them making it the only thing they can think about) I kneed you help tracking down the sentimonster before it cases any more akuma’s” Chat-what’s the sentimonster of?” “Adrian Agreste” *chats giving lb the biggest oh shit face* they hunt down senti Adrian and after a major fight with himself (hehe) Chat and lb manage to defeat it, then they join Renard and bunnix to finish off the akumas

Yeah she was defeated but lila calls it a successful day, she managed to cause 3 akumas without really lifting a finger or damaging her own rep and proved her usefulness to Gabriel, she calls that a win in her book

The next day when Adrian walks into class with Felix, all eyes are on him, he try’s to apologise to the class but lila runs up to him pushing Chloe out of the way to engulf Adrian in a tight hug *chloes fully red in the face with rage* Mari leaning over to whisper to felix “this should be good”

lila- “it’s okay Adrian we know it wasn’t you! You’d never say such hurtful things to us” alix-“you weren’t even at school yesterday lie-la” lila-“that’s because that THING attacked me on my way to class, calling me all sorts of horrible things, but lucky I’m professionaly trained in yoga and was able to comtrol my emotions, I just had to run home and send ladybug a warning obviously alix” felix- “you’ve been professionaly trained to control you’re emotions yet you e been akumatizes about 5 times...what a joke” lila glares at felix

Sensing tension Adrian interjects “I’m still sorry everyone, I hate that something looking exactly like me hurts any of you, I’d never wanna case anyone of you pain” Chloe gets up and pulls Adrian out of lila’s tight hold “it’s okay adrikins we know that your the sweetest person alive anyone who believed that impostor is utterly ridiculous ” felix grones and murmurs “I’m gonna be sick” Mari smirking “want me to get you a bag”

After sitting down Nino says “don’t worry dude your friends know you, I never had a doubt about it, the second I overheard what it said to Alya I knew that wasn’t you, you wouldn’t hurt anyone” “thanks Nino” “no thanks necessary here bro, if you wanna thank someone it should be Marinette” looking shocked Mari interrupts “what? No! No no no you seriously don’t have to say anything, I was just doing what anyone else would do” Felix looked at his girlfriend and gave her a soft smile

Felix-“it’s true Adrian, she’s the one that talked Nathaniel and marc down after your evil doppelgänger verbally attacked them, then she told them it couldn’t be the real you, because you wouldn’t hurt s fly *trademark Felix eyeroll* she even got everyone to spread the word around school and got word to lb, she was a total hero” Marinette looks at Felix with a small smile and slight blush, Adrian breaks the soft AF moment by saying “I don’t know what to say Marinette, thank you, thank you for having so much faith in me” Mari-“of course I have faith in you, I know you, Adrian, you’re good person” jokingly she giggles and says “a little dens (talking about Kagami) but you have a good heart...down to your core”

After school Nino and Mari join Felix and Adrian at the mansion and chill around playing video games...okay so Felix technically  Doesn’t play any of the games he just sits next to Mari and watches as she demolishes Nino and Adrian at every single game, he can’t help thinking how beautiful she looks when her smile is wide and toothy, her face is slightly pink from yelling with excitement and her eyes are wide and bright...she’s the definition of beautiful

Link to part 11

Tags-

@lunar-wolf-warrior @bamagirl513 @persephonebutkore @charlietheepic7 @7-sage-7 @spicybelladonna @akana-sama @goggles-mcgee

Edit: link to art I made for this part

[purplesurveys]

809

1. Has a boy ever asked your parents for permission to date you? No and I don’t feel like this is necessary; it’s a tad too traditional for me. Once Gab and I became legal to her parents though I did feel the need to come to her house and shake her dad’s hand out of respect and officially acknowledge the fact that I’m seeing his daughter. Over the years I’ve also been kinda courting her parents by buying them stuff, getting them Christmas presents, going to parties they invite me to, etc. so that we can bond more and they can get the chance to know me better.

2. Do you often get stuck behind a tractor driving somewhere out where you live? No, definitely not here in the city. In the province, you’re more likely to get stuck behind either a tricycle OR an eight-wheeler or something bigger, than a tractor. Tractors would be easy to overtake - it’s the long trucks that are bitches to drive past. Dad is an absolute master at overtaking and he has never gotten us in an accident, but I always have to squeeze my eyes shut every time he overtakes in a two-lane highway. 

3. Have you ever hidden alcohol, had a parent find it, and DRINK it? No. There’s really no point in hiding anything, really, from my mom. She’s a witch and would find out anything. It’s much better to give them a heads-up that I have alcohol because they have no reason to refuse it anyway.

4. Do your parents tell you that if someone starts a fight with you, you can finish it? We don’t get to have this kind of conversation. I don’t know what they’d prefer me to do if I get into an argument.

5. Where you ever in 4H club? If so, for what? No, and I’ve never heard of that before.

6. Has your father ever belonged to a sportmans club? I don’t know what this means either. Man it really bugs me when surveys ask question only a certain audience would understand.

7. Is there a band in your state that’s really big, but not big anywhere else? Duh, I live in the Philippines. Yes, we have TONS of bands that are huge here but probably wouldn’t get a cheer anywhere else which is a big shame because we have an insanely talented pool of artists. We have Ben&Ben, IV of Spades, December Avenue, Munimuni, Silent Sanctuary, Autotelic, Orange and Lemons, Over October, She’s Only Sixteen, Lola Amour, The Ransom Collective, etc. The local music scene has always been bustling.

8. If you have siblings, was there ever a tradition your family had when you all turned a certain age? We all had grand 1st and 7th birthday parties. Other than that, not really.

9. To what extent do you think abortion should be legal? Simply put, I wish it was available as an option everywhere. It’s still mostly illegal here and it’s taboo enough of a topic for me not to know what options women here have, simply because the information isn’t available; and I wish that wasn’t the case.

10. Have you ever stood right up against the stage at a concert? No, the concerts I’ve been to have barriers everywhere since I only ever go to shows of big artists. Even Paramore had a certin distance from the audience to the stage, and I was already in front row.

11. Have you ever forgotten to put on an oven mitt before you took something extremely hot out of the oven? No. I’m incredibly scared of hot things and burning my skin so I’m always careful.

12. Do you own one of those airwick things that automatically sprays every few minutes? Nope. I don’t think I’ve encountered one, either.

13. If you are taking (or took) an elective foreign language in high school or college, what level did you make it to? No, we didn’t need to take it in my degree. I’ve always felt kinda jealous about it because it turns out other degrees in my college – broadcast communication and film – do require foreign language classes, so there’s people in my college learning Spanish or Korean or Italian or whatever, and us journ majors apparently don’t even need those skills. Sigh.

14. How many light bulbs are on in the room you are currently in? There’s one main light but it has three lightbulbs.

15. When was the last time you felt extremely out of place? Sometime in April last year when Gab’s school was holding some mini-concert event type of thing. I didn’t know she and her org were going to be doing documentation throughout the event, so we stayed in one of the classrooms which served as backstage while they were working on photos, publicity materials, etc. in real time. Everyone knew each other and everyone didn’t know me, and I got a lot of stares which made me incredibly uncomfortable. Eventually I felt super antsy and I had a silent breakdown that evening. Annoyingly it was Gabie who got mad at me and told me I was wasting her time and that I shouldn’t have come, which was just fabulous to hear when I was having a breakdown as it was.

16. On Election Day, Did you have school? Elections usually fall on Mondays and I don’t have school on that day, so I was always able to go vote with no problem.

17. Have you ever had your phone taken away at school before? Nope. I use my phone if I’m bored/have to answer an important message, but I make sure it’s under my desk so that it’s not distracting to the professor. In my old school we weren’t allowed to bring gadgets, so I never brought my phone.

18. Do you look better with or without glasses? I dunno, I honestly like how I look either way haha. You’d have to ask other people.

19. What is your favorite type of pet bird? We’ve only ever had lovebirds and they were a delight to have. I wouldn’t mind having a pair again.

20. If you dye your hair; Can people tell? If you don’t; Do people think you do? No, they have no reason to think that I do. My hair has always remained black.

21. When was the last time you had a fruit flavored snack? One of the last few days before lockdown. Andrew brought a jar of fruit-flavored gummies to Skywalk; it was a part of his payment for a recent hosting gig he did. 

22. Do you speak with a slight stutter? Nope. I usually have an idea of what to continue saying as I speak.

23. Does your school lean more towards ghettos tendencies or hic tendencies? Noooooooo idea what this means.

24. Is your state a swing, republican, or democratic state? Philippines doesn’t do any of these things. All political parties generally stand for the same things; the only thing separating them is the political color that symbolizes their party. It’s a sorry state we live in here, as if I haven’t talked about how miserable it is here enough.

25. Does your state have any good sports teams? I don’t really follow local sports. And we don’t have states.

26. Are your parents work-o-holics? I’d say my dad is, since over the years I’ve seen him rise up the ranks. I’ve never seen my mom work at home.

27. Do you find yourself wearing more bright colors or neutral colors? Throughout my college years I wore A LOT of black and white. But during my last year I realized how boring that looks like, so I’ve recently upgraded my wardrobe with a whole lotta color. Now I mix up my black and white with olive green, mustard yellow, maroon, etc.

28. Do you REALLY think Bush is the worst president we’ve ever had? I mean he was never my president per se because I am not American and I was too young during his term, so I honestly don’t have much of an opinion on him. I do know he’s not the worst though, considering the garbage bag America has as president now.

29. Did you go fishing a lot when you were younger? Do you now? I have never gone fishing.

[piccolina-mina]

She's Like a Song

Fandom: Roswell, New Mexico 

Pairing: Michael/ Maria 

Words: 3900

Inspo: One day he decided maybe without even thinking about it that he was going to look out for Maria DeLuca, and he never stopped.

A/N: Borrowed a bit from you lovelies and expounded upon our chats. It's a freestyle, and I'm beyond rusty, but here's to you, you know who you are. :)

i.

He never told anyone before, but the Wild Pony was like his home. A teenager had no business in a bar, but Mimi DeLuca orchestrated a soup kitchen for the homeless, and while he had a pallet on the floor at his latest foster home, he may as well have been homeless.

They appreciated the paycheck, and he could put up with the less than ideal situation because it brought him home to Max and Isobel. Most days, his foster parents didn't pay him attention at all and being invisible was better than being a punching bag.

But Max and Isobel had a comfortable home with doting parents, and he was just the rabble-rousing kid from the wrong side of the tracks they weren't supposed to spend time around.

On his worse nights, he ventured to the Wild Pony. Mimi DeLuca once told him he had inexplicable energy, and it scared him shitless, but then she slid a sandwich across the counter and tousled his hair with a wink, and he felt comfortable there ever since.

She called him for maintenance help sometimes because she knew he was good with his hands, and on nights when his foster father drank too much, she put a cot up in the back room of the Pony, but more importantly, she never asked questions. She just knew. Maybe she was psychic after all.

He didn't mind this exchange between them until one day Maria DeLuca caught him in the back room. She was all long legs and smiles, and he admired how carefree she was, and how she followed the beat of her own drum.

He didn't see her often in school; she hung out with those Ortecho girls, and he always wondered how someone so filled with light could be friends with someone like Rosa who carried so much darkness, but Max and Isobel were his friends, so who was he to judge?

She didn't judge him. The surprise on her face when she caught him in that backroom sleeping on a dusty floor vanished quicker than it came, but unlike everyone else in his life, it wasn't replaced with pity.

Instead, she said, "If you're going to sleep on our floor, Guer, the least you can do is sweep it." She tossed him a broom he caught reflexively, and she barked out an order about grabbing the box of new product and skipped right back out the door no questions asked.

"When you're done, I need help with calculus, too." Of course, she knew he was a closet nerd, and she would be the type to use it to her advantage.

Maria DeLuca wasn't judgmental.

ii.

He shouldn't have been there.

Max said they should've stayed away, but Rosa was a scrub like him, and he felt a kinship with her.

He knew what it was like to be misunderstood. He didn't sleep much anymore. The images of the car burning danced across his eyelids every time he closed his eyes, and he knew the others struggled with what they did too, but his siblings refused to talk about it.

Isobel killed a girl. She killed multiple girls, and Rosa took the blame. It isn't right, and he knows that, but he didn't anticipate this.

Rosa's funeral was the day he saw a spark go out in DeLuca. She stood there, holding up a sobbing Arturo because no one was left to do it anymore.

Rosa was dead, and thanks to him and Isobel, Liz was gone. She took off, and Arturo couldn't make sense of losing two daughters at the same time, but Maria was still there.

Maria was always there. The angry shouts from the crowd Valenti held back grew louder while the priest said his prayer.

He couldn't believe the racist slurs being spewed by the people in their small town at a grieving father. Arturo crumbled under the weight of each indictment, but small but strong Maria held him up.

He watched as the tears spilled down her face, and her mother rubbed her back, and the guilt was too much. He never thought he'd see the day Maria lost some of her spark, and he played a role in that.

iii.

It was the least he could do.

Humans were pretty shitty, at least most of the ones he encountered. He flexed his hand at the thought, but the DeLucas were always kind to him.

When he saw Mimi wandering the streets not far from the junkyard, he thought she was just taking a walk, but something about her gait was off.

He smiled at her as she rambled about Will Smith and, was that Independence Day she was talking about?

At some point, within a few years since high school, Maria took over the bar, but he never knew why. It never made sense.

He knew he had a reputation for being an asshole, but he always paid attention. Maria DeLuca had plans. She dreamed of traveling the world and going on adventures. She wanted to hit the open road and book gigs and sing to her heart's content.

"It's a big ole world out there, and I want a piece of it," she said once at The Crashdown while giggling over a milkshake. She had an infectious laugh, the type that reeled you in and made you shut out any and every noise but the one she was making.

The world stopped when Maria laughed. She didn't laugh much anymore.

She did cry out when he and Mimi finally strolled back to the Wild Pony. Maria jogged up to them her forehead knit in concern, and he could hear the tears in the rasp of her voice.

"Mimi," she choked out before getting ahold of herself. "Mama, you scared me. "

"I just went for a walk, honey," Mimi cupped the side of Maria's face as the glow of the neon Wild Pony sign caught her eye, and she wandered into the bar.

Maria exhaled in disbelief. It took her a moment to bring her eyes to meet his, and she looked ... tired. Her eyes were red from the tears she was sniffing away and trying to suppress, and she hugged herself as if to keep herself together.

She opened her mouth to say something, but it was like a rush of emotion had overtaken her and rendered her speechless.

He gave her an out. "Sorry, we're late. We got a little carried away, I'm a hit with the Cougars, you know?"

She released a relieved chuckle, and for a moment, that missing spark was back and alive. "If you ever lump my mother with those floozies you take home again I'll have your balls."

"Is that a promise?" He teased. Her frown lines disappeared, and for a moment, she was the girl with the infectious laugh without a care in the world.

"Cute. I can assure you, Guerin, when I have 'em it's because they will no longer be attached to the likes of you.

She pats her back pocket where she sometimes kept her pocket knife, and he threw his hands up in surrender. He walked backward, their teasing drawing a half smirk and escapism he hadn't felt all day.

"You just called me cute though, DeLuca. I'm holding you to that." He turns to head home, his hands stuffed deep in his pockets as a chill settles in.

It's not chilly out, but suddenly the thought of going home alone makes him feel cold.

"Hey Guerin," her voice is quieter and more serious than he's used to. He turns to study her face. She looks haunted again, resigned, and so tired.

He doesn't know the particulars of what is going on with Mimi DeLuca, but he knows she's been declining for a while. Whatever it is, it has led to Maria taking over.

He can smell the wanderlust on her and see the longing for greater things that aren't this in her eyes. In many ways, she is stuck like he is. This town is too small for larger than life DeLuca, but her heart is too big for her to leave.

Rosa is gone, Liz left, and he's long since drowned his sorrows over Alex Manes heading to war. They left her alone, and now it seems Mimi is leaving her too.

"Thank you," she said quietly -- sincerely.

He nodded, tipping his hat and turned away.

Maria Deluca was alone, and so was he.

iv.

"Dammit!" She screamed, hitting the steering wheel repeatedly. She turned the key, and her car made ungodly noises.

"Whoa, whoa, you're going to flood it." He was groggy from passing out in the back of his truck behind the Wild Pony, but Maria destroying her car was enough to snap him out of his buzzed sleep.

"What's a pretty girl like you doing at a place like this," he drawled. He was met with a classic Maria glare that could disintegrate his boxers if he were wearing any. "I was talking about the car."

"I thought I kicked you out hours ago when you refused to pay your tab?"

"Most people call the law when that happens."

"Your best friend is the law."

"I don't have a best friend," he bristled at the mention of Max. They hadn't been friends for years.

"Gee, this is my surprised face," she deadpanned. She went to turn the key again, and he placed his hand over hers to stop her. She sighed, frustrated but relented.

"Looks like all your other faces, DeLuca." He signaled for her to pop the hood, and he took a gander. He could haul the thing to work in the morning, but there was nothing he could do tonight.

"It's going to need some work, DeLuca."

"Shit," her head fell back onto the headrest, and she closed her eyes. It was only then he noticed how worn down she was.

When he thought about it, Maria had been putting in double shifts all week while looking for a couple of new staff members. She had been at the Pony since it open to close, and it had to be at least 2 A.M.

"I don't have the money," she said begrudgingly. He figured it was pure exhaustion that led her to that admission.

"Oh, but when I say that, I get kicked out of the bar," he teased. His voice went up a few notches as he mimicked her. "Cough it up or get the hell out, Guerin. Stopping bar fights isn't compensation, Guerin. I will send people after you next time, Guerin. Don't come back until your tab is paid off, Guerin."

He was pretty sure his life should've flashed before his eyes based on the killer look she gave him. "I'll fix your car if you clear my tab."

"I'm not one to turn away a sucker, but I'm pretty sure car repairs exceed your bar tab, if only by a few pennies."

He made a face like a child and earned a bemused snort.

"You say that like I won't be back to drink up my share tomorrow." He patted the car and tilted his head towards his own beater. "Let me take you home."

Shockingly, she didn't put up a fight, and she staggered towards his old piece of junk and slid into the passenger seat. "You're gonna fix my baby when yours looks like crap. Rich."

He was about to respond, but her soft snores stopped him dead in his tracks. Seconds felt like hours as he watched her sleep. It was the most relaxed she looked in some time.

He hopped in and cruised towards her part of town listening to her soft exhalations. He shoved her gently, or so he thought when they pulled up to her house. Her head tapped lightly against the window.

"Asshole," she grumbled as she hopped out the truck, slammed the door, and stalked towards her door.

"Fine. Fix my shit, and I'll clear your tab. And obviously, you're picking me up at 10 A.M. Bring coffee."

"Yes ma'am," he snarked, beaming when she flipped him the bird without bothering to look back at him.

He went to bed smelling like Maria's sweet scent, which faded away by the next morning. There was a sense of relief when he slid into his truck hours later and her sweet musk still clung to the seats.

There was something comforting about it. It reminded him of Maria, and Mimi and home cooked meals in the back of the Pony when he didn't want schoolmates to catch him breaking bread with the homeless.

It reminded him of what home should feel like.

v.

"It took you long enough," he huffed. He looked up from the magazine he was reading as Maria flounced towards him with the familiar clack of her red cowgirl boots as she headed towards his truck.

"Move over, loser." She raised a brow at him as she held the door open to his truck.

"I know they tend to look identical, but it's my car, DeLuca," even he couldn't sell that lie. For one, he managed to keep hers in better condition than his own, and the difference is noticeable, which is how he ended up carting her around town when her baby got a tune-up.

Maria DeLuca owned his ass. He didn't know how to describe the hold she had on him, but there definitely was one. It's been there since they were teens. She had a spirit he recognized whenever he looked in the mirror, and unlike most people in town, she saw him, like really saw him.

Maria DeLuca was a survivor through and through, and he respected that.

"My. Truck." He enunciated as if she didn't hear him. She glared at him, and he relented. He always did.

"Your hair looks nice," he said sincerely while flashing her his shit eating grin.

"It looks the same," she shot back as she slid into the driver seat.

"Yeah, nice." He said it for the sole purpose of watching the soft flush in her cheeks, and he was rewarded with it.

"I can give you some pointers then, Guer," she countered staring pointedly at his mop of curls he admittedly never bothered doing shit with, and she knew it. She teased him about it all the time.

He shook his head. "Still can't accept a compliment graciously, huh?"

"Nope," she said popping the 'p' as she started the engine.

The town whirled past them as they drove in silence. He reached for the radio knob, and she smacked his hand away.

"It's MY truck DeLuca," he whined not the least bit as put out as he sounded.

She slid her shades on and smirked. She fiddled with the knob before music blared. Without seconds to waste, she sang along.

Maria could sing along to any song on the radio. She was some freak of nature who knew them all, genre be damned, and she sang every last one. He secretly loved it.

She crooned some ballad, and his hands twitched. Some days his longing to strum strings between his fingers was too much to bear. He wished he could still play. They could make beautiful music together.

She shot him a sly look and threw her head back laughing that laugh that was its own harmony, and he smirked. Yeah, they would make beautiful music together.

vi.

He wiped his brow as he hauled the last of the boxes into the shed and glared at a relaxed, fresh and clean Maria as she bound down the stairs of her porch.

"You bailed halfway through for a shower and left me with the heavy stuff?" He collapsed on her porch and glared up at her.

"No, 'thanks, Guerin. You didn't have to stop what you were doing and help me with spring cleaning bullshit, Guerin. You're the best, Guerin." He bobbed his head along while he mimicked her.

"Well, I grabbed you these, but if you would prefer a verbal thanks, I can just keep 'em to myself." She knew she had him as she dangled a six pack of the coldest beer he had ever seen, or at least the coldest beer he had craved in the past four hours of hard labor.

He snagged two beers out before she could yank them away and popped the lid to one guzzling it to completion by the time she plopped down next to him.

She scoffed as locks of unruly curls fell into his eyes and obscured his vision.

"You know it only costs maybe 20 bucks tops for a haircut, right?"

He shrugged noncommittally not paying her mind when she disappeared into the house again. He stared into the desert finding comfort in the feel of the condensation from the beer cool against his fingers.

The door swung shut, and he smelled her and felt her before he could see her. He inhaled deep and long, and exhaled again, not saying anything when she came up close behind him.

"Move down," she ordered.

Maria liked to think she was unpredictable, but he knew her better than she thought. He caught the glint of the scissors as she set them next to her, and he scooted down a step until he was between her legs.

"Ah, my favorite position. I can show you why if you want." He flinched even though he knew the punch was coming and choked back a laugh.

His laughter stopped when she ran her hands through his curls carding her fingers through as a way of detangling it.

It was her time to laugh softly. She knew she shut him up for a good minute and relished it, but he was too relaxed to care. He was bone weary tired to the point of his limbs feeling like jello so he couldn't help himself from sinking into her. If she minded, she didn't say anything.

He wanted to make a wisecrack about her being anywhere near his head with scissors, but he was too comfortable with their silence.

He rested his head lightly on her lap, and she absentmindedly scratched his scalp as she snipped.

The sun was setting, and the desert sky was a sunburst of oranges and pinks, and he wondered if there were sunsets so beautiful at home.

Maria hummed quietly as snippets of hair fell around him, and the way she dragged her nails softly along his scalp made his eyes flutter closed, and he thought, he never had this before.

vii.

He paces next to her unconscious form, and part of him wants to join the fight and track who's responsible, but part of him can't bring himself to leave her side even if he wanted.

He leans in close to her face and notes her chest rises and falls, and it's the only thing putting him at ease.

Her stillness is unsettling. She's so full of life -- a force of nature that can't be tamed and one that gets under your skin and electrifies your cells. She's -- she's magic, and he's all nerves and boundless energy that can't be soothed.

Except ... he lifts her gently and hops on the table resting her head in his lap, and even unconscious Maria puts him at ease. She always does.

It took him years to realize that part of the gravitational pull he has towards her is due to her being a constant in his life. She's consistent and normal, and she makes him feel normal, and she helps him escape out of his head if only for their moments.

It's why he wouldn't allow Max to disparage her in such a way. His forearm still aches from shoving his brother against a wall, and he reflexively clenches his fists.

It had nothing to do with his night spent with Maria and more to do with his years spent with her. She was his constant, his sanctuary, his normalcy, his friend, and not even Max could take that away from him.

He knows her intimately and biblically, and they could take everything away from him, his home, his identity, his opportunity for family, but not the small, most consistent form of solace he has.

He brushes water against her lips and tries to keep her hydrated. He strokes her hair the way she does when she cuts his hair and breathes in that soft scent that's all Maria.

The silence between them isn't their comfortable kind. Sure, he hears the buzz from the gala, but he wants to fill the room with something suitable for them.

They banter. They barter. It's their thing, and sometimes, so is music. So he finds himself humming a little diddly she sang once while he strokes her hair.

When she stirs, he exhales a sigh of relief and a weight is lifted from him. He tries to comfort her and tells her to take it easy, and he doesn't miss the softness in his voice.

The truth is, he's scared of losing her. He didn't realize how much he relied on the Wild Pony or her to fill some void he has until she spent days avoiding him.

When he bumped into her at the Crashdown, he saw that familiar haunted look in her eyes, and it hurt him that he once again contributed to her carrying an unbearable load.

He likes to think over the years he did his part to relieve her of burdens, not contribute to them, so when he told her he was to blame and she was not, he meant every word.

Her eyes flutter open slowly, and he strokes her hair and asks her if she wants more water.

"You have to stop showing up like this for me, Guerin."

He knows she's still groggy from the drugs, and his jaw clenches thinking about how she was used.

He's absentmindedly scratching her scalp as he tries to say the right thing. He hesitates before he offers to get Liz and leave, but he doesn't really want to. He'll leave if it's what she wants though because Maria always gets her way with him.

"That's the problem," she says her voice but a whisper. "I never do."

And he feels like he was punched in the gut. Everything is messy now, and he's partly to blame for that.

He understands the sentiment well, though. And he knows what that admission cost her, and it's possible she won't remember she said it at all, and it's what he hopes if only to spare her any more pain.

There's something about Maria DeLuca that brings him back time and again. She never wants him to leave, and he always wants to stay.

He made peace with the fact that he stopped coming to the Wild Pony for the booze years ago. He came for the company.

Their relationship was easy and comforting, and he could disappear into Maria DeLuca the way he used to disappear into music because Maria was like a song that never ended.

A tear slips down her cheek at her admission, and it takes everything in him not to wipe it away, cup her face, press his lips in her hair and absorb her pain and hurt.

He's had decades of practice shouldering hurt and pain. He can handle it.

Somewhere along the way, he made it his personal mission to keep Maria's spark alive. He likes to think it was for her, but he knows it's purely selfish.

One day, he decided maybe without even thinking about it, that he was going to look out for Maria DeLuca, and he never stopped.

[taytayize123]

New Story! Hope you guy’s enjoy!

A Spark Can Lead To A Connection

Carrie looked at her two friends, Amy and Zoe, who were walking down the trash filled streets that stunk of alcohol and piss. What the hell were three newly 21-year-old girls doing walking in the seedy part of town at 11pm on a Friday night? Well, all of them were going to see a new band play at some bar. It was this band’s first American tour since they’re originally from London England. They were playing small clubs and dive bars since this was their first tour from across the pond. The girl’s had arrived just as the band was warming up on their instruments. When Carrie saw Jamie, the lead singer, turn around, she couldn't help but think that he had just came out of a Burberry magazine ad. He had blonde hair as golden as a pile of sun-kissed hay, eyes as blue as tropical island waters, and a jaw that looked like it could have been carved out of stone. Carrie was stunned by this man and longed to know more. Amy choose to go straight to the bar with her shiny new legal ID in hand to order some drinks for herself and her friends. While she was waiting, some old dude hit on her, slobbering the world’s worst pick up lines. All she could was roll her eyes and grab the drinks that were now ready. Then walked back to where Carrie and Zoe were standing and handed them their drinks. Zoe had this look of pure fear in her eyes. She had always been the most well-behaved in the group. When taking her first sip, it burned her throat and she almost gagged. As the first song of the set started up, Carrie’s ears were met with sounds of thumping drums, a pounding bass, and howling guitars. As Jamie sang a few verses, he clutched his bare chest, which was sprinkled with two tattoos one of which was a skull on his left and blood dripping heart with two butterflies one above the heart and one under on his right. Jamie fell to his knees as the club filled with silence. For about two minutes there was this haunting silence throughout the whole bar. Carrie was shocked as he hit the ground, still clutching his naked chest. She saw the look in his eyes go from amusement to the look of being unsure and a fog washed over him, turning those icy blue orbs Carrie was starting to fall for were now a cloudy blue-grey color. The premarket sexy smirk that formed on his plump pink lips when singing a suggestive song was long gone. Zoe, being the most responsible in the moment, started shouting at people to call 911. She had jumped on stage and started checking his pulse and if he had a concussion from hitting his head on his guitar amp. Luckily, Zoe was a pre-med student, so her mind went straight to how to save this man’s life. As for Amy, she stood there dumbfounded because she thought that Jamie was just being a crazy frontman of a rock band and did the drop as part of the shows performance. Finally, the paramedics had came and immediately put Jamie on the stretcher. While they were asking Zoe and Amy questions about what had happened, Carrie and Jamie made eye contact again, and, to her delight, he smiled at her then whispered something in one of the paramedics ear’s. Carrie saw the same paramedic walking up to her, telling her that Jamie had requested she come with him to the hospital. She agreed, climbing up into the ambulance. Immediately, she sat down next to him, only for him to clutch her hand out of comfort.  At that moment in time, they both knew they had created a lifelong connection with each other.   During the ride to the hospital, Carrie was very quiet as she nervously playing with the bottom of her shirt until Jamie said her name. She looked up only for her blue-green eyes to meet his perfectly clear blue ones, easing her nerves. Jamie started speaking. “Love, I’m sorry for scaring you. Isn’t there some myth about being in the front row of a rock show? You never know what’s going to happen.” Carrie giggled a little, knowing he was trying to lighten the mood. When he called her love, it made her insides flutter. She knew it was just how British people spoke, but it still made her feel special. Once they had arrived, the paramedics wheeled him into a waiting room where a doctor did some tests to see what would cause him to collapse. As both Jamie and Carrie sat awkwardly in the room, Carrie decided to start talking. “So, other than what happened tonight, how’s the tour going? Do you guys like America so far?” Jamie cleared his throat. “Yes, I do like America. Many of my favorite bands are American so it has been really fun to play in some of the bars and clubs they had gotten their start at such as The Roxy in Los Angeles or Bowery Ballroom in New York.” Carrie’s mouth dropped open with a shocked and excited grin on her face. “Oh my god! Those clubs are legendary! I’ve always dreamed of getting to go see a gig at The Roxy! The history in that place is just amazing, from Billy Idol, The Ramones, and where John Lennon wrote “Lost Weekend”. I’d kill to go there one day!” Carrie exclaimed, making Jamie’s face brighten. Listening to Carrie get so passionate about the roxy made his heart swell. He thought it was really cool to meet a girl who liked rock music as much as he did. He couldn't get over how refreshing it was compared to how past experiences went with other girls. He also had to admit it’s very sexy that her and I have the same taste in music. The doctor had walked in and looked Jamie over, discovering that he was dehydrated, not to mention he was drinking and that his body was exhausted. The fact that he was drinking only worsened the symptoms. The nurse handed him a shirt to throw on since he came in without one. He needed that, given it was a cold November night.  He was told that he would need an IV to rehydrate his system, then he was free to go. It wasn't until about 1 am that Jamie and Carrie could leave the hospital. He could finally go back to the hotel he was staying at. As Jamie and Carrie wait for their rides, Jamie speaks, making Carrie look at him. “I’m in town till late tomorrow night, and I’d love to hang out with you in a much nicer chilled out setting. Plus, I would love to see the city more as well.” He suggests, smiling at Carrie. She smiles in response, taking Jamie’s phone to put her number into it before handing it back to him. Carrie hears a car horn go off, making her look around before spotting Zoe’s black land rover pulling up to the curb. She says goodbye to Jamie, receiving a hug from him as he thanked her for staying with him while he was in the hospital. Her senses filled with the sweet smell of smoke from a cigarette he had just lit as well as the scent of his Dior cologne. She couldn't help but feel intoxicated by the aruma. Carrie get’s into her friend's car, excitedly telling her friends every detail of the rest of her night. Once she got back to her house, she decided to take a steamy hot shower. It wasn't until 2:30am when she climbed into bed, hearing her phone buzz on the bedside table. Turning over, she couldn't help but be surprised to see a message from Jamie. “Message Received: (Jamie)- Just wanted to say I can’t wait for tomorrow. Wishing beautiful dreams to a beautiful girl :)” “Message Sent: (Carrie)- Thank you! That was very sweet thing to say. I can’t wait as well goodnight!” The next day, Carrie was elated that it turned out to be a beautiful day. The sun was shining, yet it was very chilly outside. Carrie decided to wear black skinny jeans, a blush colored sweater, a leather jacket all paired with black tall riding boots. She drove to the hotel that Jamie was staying at, pulled up to where he was standing. He was in black skinny jeans, a ripped and faded Led Zeppelin band tee, and a jean jacket. His accessories included a grey beanie, a nose ring and a vintage metal ring.  He got in the car, shut the door and buckled up before Carrie started driving. She decided that since they both shared such a strong love for music, she should take him to her favorite record shop in downtown Portland, Music Millennium. As she opened the door, he followed after her. She couldn't help but smile at how amazed Jamie was at the sight of the store. Records were wall to wall, filled with every record from every band you could name. Posters hung from the ceiling, some of which included Bob Dylan, KISS, and Motley Crue. Carried smiled and waved at the two older men working the cash registers. They had known her for a solid four or five years now since she found this cosmic hideout from all things that sucked in life such as Family Issues, A sucky student job, and Endless amounts of term papers. Jamie started going through a box of records that was sitting along the wall so Carrie sat down next to him, starting in on her own box of records, just in case she wanted to add to her collection of  Vinyls. Nothing sounded as magical as vinyl does because it’s like sitting in on a recording session: one could hear every grunt, breath, and note. It’s very personal to share vinyl with somebody.  Carrie looked over at Jamie, who was holding up in perfect condition a Appetite For Destruction album by Guns N Roses. Carrie couldn't help but think back to when that album was what got her through her high school years when she felt like a total misfit within the hierarchy of the high school food chain. He handed the album to Carrie. As he did it, his hand brushed against her arm and she flinched and pulled her arm away. Carried looked back up at Jamie’s face, gulping as she realized she had to explain why she pulled away. “Sorry I know that was weird. People touching me just brings up some difficult memories.” Carried shyly looked down at the 70’s colored carpet. Jamie responded, “Oh I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to it was just an accident. I wasn’t paying attention.” Carrie instantly felt horrible for making the sweetest guy she had ever met feel guilty about touching her. Once again, her anxiety was kicking her ass. She knew she had to explain why a simple touch turned a fun loving girl into a scared, timid mess of a girl. With a deep breath she started to explain. “In high school, I had a boyfriend my junior year who was the total opposite of myself. He was popular, a two sport athlete, and very well-liked by students and teachers. About four months after we got together, I noticed he had very bad anger issues. He’d snap and turn into a horrific monster. The smallest argument would throw him into a rage. He would ask me where I wanted to eat, for example, and when I said I didn’t know and ask him what he felt like having. He’d begin yelling at me, telling me that I was a no good worthless bitch and that I was lucky that he even gave me the time of day. I swear to god that he called me every name in the book from whore, slut, bitch, and even the c word once. That was the first time he physically grabbed me by the arm so tight he left huge bruises on my body. It had happened four more times before I couldn’t take it anymore and told my best friend who then got me the help I needed to escape that abusive downward spiral of a relationship I was in. I can even remember the last thing I said to him. I told him I hated him as hot tears welled up in my eyes.”   As soon as Carrie stopped speaking, Jamie engulfed her into a tight hug, allowing her to cry on his shoulder. He then released her from his comforting and warm embrace and cupped her face, which was now tear stained. He said; “Don’t ever think for one minute that you are worthless, because, trust me, only knowing you for twenty four hours, I know that you are an empathic, passionate, creative soul, who I find very interesting and attractive. I find you so beautiful, Carrie,” He breathed, looking down at his left hand at the vintage ring on his finger. He remembered when he got it:  a fashion shop in the Oxford Circus area in London, known for their retail stores. In that moment, he decided to pull it off his finger, only to slip it on Carrie’s finger, telling her that he wanted her to be his girlfriend, even though he left that night to go onto the next tour stop. He assured her that they would make it work, even if they were across an ocean from each other. This would just be until Carrie could finish her degree and move to England to be with him. He knew this girl was the one for him.  

[coldeternalarchive]

Matt’s Winter 2

Matt/George 2/15 When Matt finally woke up after what felt like months of being unconscious, he panicked.  He was in a hospital room with no memory of getting there, the walls were too white and when he reached up to feel his head, instead of curls, he felt bandages.

“WHAT THE FUCK?!” “Dude, it’s okay, chill!”   A hand reached over and patted his arm which had an IV tube attached to it. Matt jumped and looked around.  Dylan was sitting in the chair next to him, a dollar store yo-yo dangling on a string he was holding.   “Holy shit, dude, we thought you were dead!!!!”  Dylan exclaimed with a usual lack of tact. “I don’t remember anything---what happened?  How long have I been here?” “Fuck ….dude….almost a week!” “Oh my god!!  The tour!!”  Matt sat up fast and was immediately assaulted by dizziness and nausea and a sense of the first fall of a huge roller coaster ride. “Aw don’t worry about that, homie.  We already got your replacement.”  Dylan said, way too easily.  “ And we been stuck here waiting for you to show signs of life so we were able to scrape up some local gigs.”  Dylan droned on for a few more minutes but Matt had stopped listening after the word “replacement” :”GET OUT!!!!” “Why?  What’s wrong?” WHY BECAUSE YOU FUCKING REPLACED ME!!!  AND GEORGE COULDN’T EVEN MAN UP ENOUGH TO TELL ME HIMSELF!!!  HE FUCKING SENT YOU!! “You kept playing?  You fucking left me here and got someone else!?” “You fucking collapsed, how were we going to make money?  Money to move on when you got better!?  And it was just some local dude, it wasn’t even---fuck, man, the doctor said you’d be loopy, but damn, calm down!!” Matt hit the call button.   George kicked me out!!  I’ve ruined the tour!  Everyone hates me!  Jorel told everyone what a pussy I am and now everyone hates me.  They sent Funny, they couldn’t even tell me themselves!!  Fucking Jorel!  Stole Aron and now he stole the band! By the time the nurse came Matt was hysterical and Dylan was kicked out no matter how he tried to   Minutes later when George stomped up to the nurses station, all charm gone and looking for a fight, demanding to talk to the head of the unit and making such a fuss that the entire band was banished to the first floor main waiting room just inside the doors, though it was strongly suggested they leave until Matt was ready to be released. Matt knew nothing of this though, he just knew he had been kicked out for screwing up the tour and cared for so little that George didn’t feel him worthy enough to kick him out himself.  A nurse came in first and shot him up with something to calm him down but not knock him out.  Suddenly the walls became incredibly interesting and watching them kept him interested until the doctor came in and told him he had passed out dehydration and fallen off the stage, hitting hitting his head on the edge of a bank of amplifiers that had been pulled down from the stage for load out.  He had fractured the base of his skull.  The doctor was relieved to find him awake and asking questions.  He was asking Matt more questions about his name, where he was,  the day of the week, none of which Matt could answer.  He could give his name, his age, his address and the last thing he remembered. After him a slew of doctors, counselors and nurses paraded through his room, doing their tests, asking more questions, taking blood.  Matt was grateful when they finally left him alone but in an hour he was bored and lonely and wishing someone would come to visit.   But of course they won’t.  They hate me.  They kicked me out of the band…  He lay there watching the light change outside his window, feeling smaller and smaller as the day progressed and no one else came to look in on him. Well I’m on my own now.  I’m not even sure where I am.  If I call my parents they’re going to come down and get me but I have no other way to get back.  I don’t even remember how much money I had with me.  I don’t have my stuff…………….fuck my stuff, they can keep it all….give it to the fucker that took my place.  I’ll wait until they release me then I’ll call my folks………...and admit that I’m a complete failure, just like they knew I would be……...and then tell them my friends weren’t really my friends, that I was completely incapable of taking care of myself and I have to come home and listen to them tell me “I told you so”....fuck...maybe I can hitchhike.  Matt sniffled.  He then began to think about long, cold nights walking down an interstate, having no idea who would be behind the wheel of the next truck to stop, no doubt it would be someone bigger, stronger and far more deranged…..He sank further in the bed and began to cry. He was monitored closely, woken up every hour, or at least that’s how it seemed.  Sometimes he dreamed of the door opening and of George or Aron walking in and saying they were sorry and everything was okay and they were there to take him home, but each time he opened his eyes either he was alone or with just a nurse who was taking his pulse or checking his pupils. The next morning he tried to eat but quickly was queasy and threw up everything he ate, even though it had not been that much.  He slept on and off until dinner time, drank some soup and asked if there was any way he could make a collect call to his parents to get money to go home on.  Right around five pm he was visited by a patient representative, an older woman who reminded him of his second grade teacher.  He was asked his parents’ name, address, phone number and occupation.  Since he was over eighteen he was also asked how much of his condition he wanted disclosed.  He thought this was strange, making the decision of what to tell or not to tell his parents.  He decided it would sound a bit better to say he’d suffered a head injury from an accidental fall and because of that could not drive himself home. In the course of the next twenty four hours things began to change slowly.  He was able to walk to the bathroom without needing help because he was so dizzy, he was able to eat without throwing up and he was able to sleep through the night.   The bandages terrified him, he was sure that once they were removed he’d find out they had shaved him bald, but in fact they had only shaved the hair at the base of his neck and it did not look terribly out of the ordinary.  It just looked like he’d gotten a haircut.  His parents would probably actually be proud. After several more exams he was given his clothes and the possessions he had on him at the time of the fall: sneakers, a black hoodie, a long sleeved t shirt he had  painted with the band logo himself, his mask, black jeans, and a black snapback cap,  his wallet and ID, a phone, now drained of the battery and little else.  He was also given a bus ticket home, cab fare to the bus depot, and some money for food.  As soon as he received these things he changed and hurried out, not waiting for the release documents or any final approval.    Shuffling down the hallway holding the mask, he felt like everyone was staring at him and was actually afraid if he didn’t hurry maybe they’d try to transfer him to the psyche ward.  He called for a taxi from the nurses station and ordered it to meet him behind the hospital. He took service elevators to get to a back entrance near where the ambulances came in at and began his long journey home. Not wanting to be sick on the ride, he only bought juice. water and crackers to eat.  The food of the other passengers smelled far better and made his stomach growl, but he could not risk having to stop to throw up so he stuck to what he had no matter how hungry he became.  He chose a seat in the middle of the bus and the middle of the row, hoping such an inconvenient location would discourage a seat mate.  There was nothing to do on the trip but play out the last few days he could remember before his fall, how nice Aron had been up until the night they all had been forced to share a room.  Over and over he saw Aron walking out of the convenience store on that last stop, grinning and offering him some jerky and him politely saying no because Jorel was right behind Aron and already glaring at him like he’d take Matt’s head off if he he’d said yes.  He should have never messed around with Aron, should have ignored the way Aron’s smile sent tingles down to the soles of his feet and made his stomach twist in knots.  He should have thought more about the consequences of dating anyone in the band.  But oh god it had felt so good when they were together, even just plotting to find a spot to make out, it was like it was the two of them against the world and it had made him feel like the luckiest guy alive, like the two of them had their own private club that no one else could be a part of.  Suddenly the tour was a lot less lonely and even nights when the audience ignored them didn’t hurt so bad.  He should have known better.  Things like that happened in books.  They happened to other people.  More specifically, they happened to Jorel. Jorel had a charmed life.  His parents never gave him shit, he always seemed to have money, he was virtually swimming in a sea of willing girls.  Girls looked at Matt like he was creepy and laughed as soon as he opened his mouth to talk to them.   But the girls loved Jorel, followed him around wherever he went, bought him food, washed his car, probably did his laundry if his mom didn’t still.  All Matt ever heard from his parents was “Cut your hair, grow up and get a real job.”  Now he guessed he had no choice.  He’d go down and work at the local A and P grocery down the street and wear a collared shirt and say “Yes sir” and “Yes ma’am” and do what his folks told him and never ever say a word about liking guys or being any different than anyone else.  Maybe he’d make friends, maybe he’d be alone.  Maybe he’d just get home, lock himself in his room and slash his wrists.  The more he thought about what the future was going to be like, the more he realized he did not want to be there for it. (end chapter, more to come)