#sure they had internships actually but nothing was taught and its sad

[jaded-ghoster]

i think we all focus too much on the fighting aspects of the quirks, what about first aid? Kaminari is basically an invaluable defibrillator

[moirasimagines]

closer | william (westworld) x reader

a kiss prompt from @transowenharper turned into a full-fledged one shot lmao. william’s shitty evening takes a turn for the better when the reader shows up.

word count: 1,900

warnings: none!

you’d been out of grad school for about two years. it was a strange, almost liminal space. gone were the sleepless nights penning your thesis and the grueling internships and the bullshit. you hardly knew how to live without all of it. the universe, however, was keeping its eye on you.

there was new bullshit to deal with now, thank you very much.

you had never really been lucky in love. it was frustrating. people were always supportive, telling you that eventually you’d meet the right person, or that everyone was foolish not to see how special you were. you did your best to believe them–– you did believe them, usually.

sometimes, though, it was difficult.

for instance, tonight your roommate had dragged you out to a bar, insisting you give it a go even though all you could think about was the profile you were working on for the end of the month.

it was about a man named logan delos, the heir to an incredibly successful business empire. once he realized you had no interest in sleeping with him, he began to blow you off almost without fail. you ended up spending more time with his brother-in-law, william. he, at least, had no ulterior motives, being engaged to logan’s sister. and he actually seemed interested in helping you get something published.

even so, you felt like the biographer of a biographer. the more william told you about logan, the more you knew about william. you’d begun to toy around with the idea of taking an entirely new angle to your editor: delos incorporated’s inside outsider. you were sure they’d laugh you out of the office if not the building itself.

it made you crazy, how little recognition someone like william got in the business world. he was genuine and smart and kind. he was a rare breed, and you seemed to be the only one who could recognize it. the logan deloses of the world would never capture your readers’ hearts the way william could. the way he’d captured yours.

but he was engaged, and so you didn’t give it a further thought.

well… sometimes you did. he didn’t seem all that happy. he hardly spoke about his finacé, and when he did, it was with a conservative and withdrawn respect. it was admirable, but hardly the stuff true love was made of.

so even when you were consumed with work, a part of your heart was consumed with william. how could you resist falling for the first person in ages who really took you seriously? who seemed to think you had what it took to make it? sometimes you thought you’d never get the damn article written.

even with all that stress, there you were at the bar, perched in a corner, your roommate scanning the crowd. he knew your type all too well, and since you clearly weren’t going to do the work yourself, he spotted someone for you.

“hey,” he murmured, nudging you to get your attention. “check that guy out over there. looks like he was made for you.” you looked up half-heartedly from your drink and your eyes widened.

“jesus christ, i know him.” your roommate raised an eyebrow.

“how?”

“from work. he’s the brother-in-law of the guy i’m supposed to be writing about.”

“jeez. that explains why he looks so miserable.”

“i’m gonna go talk to him.”

“hitting on a subject? that’s bold, even for you.”

“what? no, i just want to see if he’s all right, you perv. and he’s not the subject. even if he should be.” you gave your roommate a pointed look and he chuckled at you as you walked off. you rolled your eyes at him over your shoulder, and he swiftly began looking for a place to crash overnight–– just in case you needed a little privacy later.

william was tired. he was a little sad, sure. scared, even. but above all, he was so goddamn tired. with his gaze pointed towards the ground, the tips of your shoes were what first alerted him to your presence. he looked up, already prepared to get out of someone’s way or to politely excuse himself from the bar because he was bumming out the patrons. he was surprised to look up with apologetic eyes to find you standing at his barstool.

“oh, y/n. hi,” he said straightening up and smiling. “how are you?”

“i’m all right,” you replied. “i, uh... just wanted to come check on you. i saw you over here and it... looked like you weren’t having such a good night.” you bit your lip, hoping the observation wouldn’t offend.

he nodded, half shrugging. “you got me. ah, actually... it’s not great news for either of us. james delos fired me this afternoon.” your jaw dropped.

“are you serious? your own father-in-law?” william let out a humorless chuckle.

“no, no... not for a while now, actually.” you nodded slowly, eyes wide. “they wanted to keep it quiet. less gossip. but, ah...” he simply shook his head, at a loss for words, it seemed. you had to admit, you were a little bit horrified. sliding into the stool beside him, you laid a hand on william’s shoulder.

“i’m so sorry, william. that’s... that’s really terrible.” he gave a little wave, dismissing the thought.

“eh... nothing to be done.”

“i... i mean, you could fight it! go back, tell them they can’t just fire you because your relationship didn’t work out. they can’t fire you over nepotism–– i’ve seen your work, it’s brilliant. you’re one of the most diligent people i’ve ever met!”

his smile grew wistful as he watched you speak. the fact that you became so impassioned–– especially over him, of all people–– warmed his heart.

“it wasn’t anything like that. i think more than anything, they weren’t too happy that i was speaking with you... about the profile on logan.” your eyebrows rose.

“...oh.” oh. “holy shit,” you murmured, “please tell me i didn’t get you fired.” william’s brow furrowed.

“no, no no, god. if anything, i... i think i might have gotten you fired, actually.”

you hated to admit it, but hearing that was the biggest relief you’d had in months. “i’m sorry, y/n,” he went on, “i had no idea that they would––” you shook your head.

“no, don’t apologize. that piece was sucking the life out of me. how could i write an entire, honest article praising logan’s business practices? he’s like a schmoozing, flirting, glorified test-dummy.” this made william laugh.

“well then, maybe we’re both lucky we got out when we did.”

“i’ll drink to that.” you motioned for the bartender. “two glasses of champagne, please.” william arched an eyebrow.

“what are we celebrating?”

“freedom.”

----

when you checked your phone an hour later, your roommate had graciously elected to couch surf with a friend for the night. you frowned at the screen, half annoyed that he presumed you’d be so forward with your now-former colleague and half annoyed that he was right.

“everything okay?” william asked as he tugged on his coat.

“yeah,” you said, slipping the phone into your pocket before he could see. “yeah, just... my roommate. he met someone and went home with them and wanted to let me know.” it wasn’t the furthest thing from the truth. it was half how you had expected the night to go anyway.

“well, then let me walk you home.”

“oh, no, i wouldn’t want to put you out,” you replied, feeling guiltily like you’d laid a trap and he was falling right into it.

“don’t be ridiculous. It would be my pleasure. least i can do after you bought me a drink, eh?” you couldn’t help but smile.

“well then... how can i refuse?” he grinned in return.

“that’s the spirit.”

the night was chilly, but not overwhelmingly so. your apartment wasn’t terribly far, but the walk was long enough that it gave you time to talk.

“i really am sorry that you were fired,” you said softly. “especially for any hand i might have had in making it happen.” william stopped and looked at you, shaking his head.

“you don’t need to keep apologizing. in fact, you’ve done me a favor.” you smiled a little crookedly.

“how’s that?” you asked, head tilting to the side. you squinted, trying to get a read on him. william gestured for you to forge ahead, and he followed.

“my whole life… i just wanted to make something of myself. i wanted to be normal, i wanted to be successful, i wanted to be worth something. and i spent so much time chasing this… this american dream horseshit. and it wasn’t until now that i realized it wasn’t doing a single thing to make me happy. getting fired... i thought it would be awful–– as soul-crushing as i imagined it to be.” you slowed your pace as you approached your apartment, and william followed suit. “but it was a relief.”

his eyes were practically sparkling, and they fixed on yours hypnotically. you couldn’t tell if you leaned in first, or if he did, but within moments your lips molded to his and his hands were in your hair. he kissed you sweetly, but with fervor, like you were water to a dying man. when the kiss broke so you could both breathe, he didn’t let go of you, and you didn’t want to move. your foreheads touched gently, and you let your fingers curl in the fabric of his coat.

“i’m sorry,” you murmured, despite yourself. it still felt like you were taking advantage of him, even though the feelings you had developed for him were clearly mutual. he shook his head, nose brushing delicately against yours with the gesture.

“you are… the first person…” he said earnestly and in between breaths, “to see me in my life. in the past few weeks, i’ve felt more of a connection to you than i have ever felt... with anyone. and you are the one who taught me that i needed to be brave enough–– to take a chance, and tell you.”

you were stunned for a moment, completely unsure of how to deal with such a beautiful outpouring of emotions. his grip began to loosen in your hair, hands drifting down to your shoulders. you could feel him start to hesitate, to begin to apologize, and you pulled him closer, one hand tightening around his waist and the other cupping his cheek. this kiss was deeper, more desperate, and at once you knew where william would be sleeping tonight. your lips parted again, and this time it was your turn to speak, the words turning to vapor against his lips in the cold night air.

“i see you,” you murmured, looking at him through your eyelashes. “i see you. and i want to keep seeing you for the foreseeable future. fuck everyone else–– everyone else who doesn’t see how special you are.”

“and how special you are.”

“yeah,” you replied, bolstered ever higher by his kindness. “do you… do you wanna come upstairs?”

“you have no idea how long i’ve been waiting to hear you say that.” his voice was mischievous, and he stole one more kiss before letting go of you long enough for you to unlock the door. he didn’t let you stray much further than that for the rest of the night.

[nehawriter16]

2018, THE YEAR THAT BROKE ME

I’m currently sitting on the floor of my bedroom. It’s been a day of avoiding real work and responsibilities, but then again, escapism is kind of the theme of this year, so it’s only accurate that I’m here writing this.

Everybody is asleep, except me. And the men I like who live overseas, but they’ve been ignoring me, so I have no desire to ring them up despite the general despair and loneliness I feel. But let’s not begin our round up with boys, because although they rank high on my list of important life lessons/disappointments this year, I don’t want also want to give them the satisfaction of first place.

In the last 365 days, a lot about my life changed. I’m going to try to sum it up as best as I can.

1) In the beginning of December, I quit an internship that anybody else would have killed for. The work and constant travelling and being yelled at by crude seniors broke the delicate petal that I am. I’d landed that job at 19, and I loved that I was thrown into the adult world so early because it taught me a lot, but two years of showing up every day to do something I don’t love killed something inside of my brain. And so, I decided to take a month off and then move to a smaller firm, not realising that my job at EY would help to keep my sanity by keeping me occupied.

The first few weeks were bliss. After twelve hour work days, I suddenly had a lot of free time and I indulged in attending fun trainings and catching up with old friends. For a short second, life was filled with hope, up until my birthday in mid Jan.

2) Since I now had the luxury of lesser work hours, I decided to pursue one of my biggest dreams – writing a book. I already had the story in mind, and I thought that despite the emotional turmoil that revisiting some of the memories would bring, the bigger picture would be worth it. It’s almost the end of December now, and I’m still sure it is.

But the truth is – my relationship with A blossomed in 2016, and died a premature death in mid 2017. And I’ve been dragging it through the ground for longer than I should be. Sometimes I wonder if I’m solely responsible for squeezing it for the story. Or maybe it was the kind of love you can’t forget. Well, I can’t. I’m sure he has.

But one of the hardest things about writing this has been taking myself back to when we were falling for each other. I’ve been reading emails about hopes and dreams and forever after it has already ended. And how do you write about happiness when you know there isn’t going to be any? All this is important for the narrative, yes, but it fucks with my mental health so badly. 2016 me was naive and trusting. 2018 me is bitter, and not too thrilled about revisiting those moments mostly because of how much they hurt just to think about, forget turning them into an interesting cliff hanger filled story.    

I have almost finished writing it though, and that’s what’s the more important thing. I don’t know what kind of nightmares publishing and finding an agent and royalties is going to bring, but at least I will have created something tangible and coherent instead of this faraway thing that I’ve dreamt of since I was 13.

3) I tanked my CA Final – and this was the biggest disappointment, no surprises there. More than the gallons of self loathing it brought on me, it was about the burden I created for my parents. Yesterday my mother, in a burst of anger, said, “If you don’t pass in May, you can’t live under our roof anymore.” She doesn’t know this, and she probably never will, but I cried myself to sleep because that thought terrifies me.

I feel like I am already just swimming through a rubble of guilt. Most people my age have already gotten well paying jobs and have been living out of home for years now. They are financing themselves and starting businesses and I don’t even read the newspaper on a daily basis. I lack the self control I used to have in school, or maybe my mother’s constant nagging and being up my ass was the only way I stayed successful when I was younger.

Of course, this career choice was a MASSIVE bad decision, and I’ve always felt out of place in it. I will never be the best, but I really do need to pass and finish. If I can’t pass it again, I will literally sink into unconquerable depression that no amount of therapy and medicines will be able to pull me out of.

I’m supposed to start studying from the 1st, and I hope that it doesn’t drive me FUCKING INSANE like the last time it did, because this time, the pressure is higher and time, lesser.

I still have some grit left in me though. The last two months of this year have been difficult, but creatively fulfilling, and I am okay with having to go back to analytical subjects again. I feel sane enough to drop into the mental battlefield that is the CA Final syllabus.  

 4) I’m 23 in a fortnight, and at least 5 of my friends got engaged this year. I was the oldest in school in my batch so they’re all younger than me. This whole finding a boy thing is stressing me the fuck out, because as per my calculations, it would take a year of courting for me to so much as like somebody seriously. After that, it would take two years for me to try every possible method to drive him away, and torture him with all my hamartias, and THEN if he doesn’t leave, and when he proposes, I’ll be like, “Okay fine. Maybe we can be engaged.” This whole process takes 3 years. I want to be married at 26, so I only have those many. The problem is that in this time period, it will not only be difficult to find an emotionally available boy with a pretty face – WAIT, for him to find me, because women don’t do the chasing – who is also sexy and charming and reads poetry and has a sensible head on his shoulders. No, in this time period I will also be taking solely career-oriented decisions as one must, and love will always take the backseat. I want to move abroad in 2020 and he may live somewhere else, and it’s clear from my several failed attempts that I can’t do long distance. Also to be noted that you cannot try this experiment with different men simultaneously. It’s sort of a one lab rat at a time type of test.

So what, then? Fuck feelings, and only be serious with hook ups? I think I’ve filled my 2018 with at least a two dozen of those hot but dumb types (tall, abs, rolling in money, half a brain, bonus if they’re good kissers, but you can never date them seriously) and to be honest I’m getting tired of them. First of all, they’re all pussies about the poetry, it literally frightens them which I find kind of hilarious, but it’s also annoying. Sure, we can roll a joint and make out on my terrace, and they’ll just pull up when I find myself getting even the least bit lonely, but the ones I really like – the fuckboys who I see have real turning into boyfriend potential – they live abroad. It’s so cliché, I might vomit, but they literally live in London and New York. London Boy is only here for a month and then he’s gone. New York one may stay back, but he always wants to meet after midnight and there’s no fucking way my parents are allowing that.

And let’s face it, I’m a relationship girl. Sure, I’ve picked up some skills with hooking up and if we’re being honest I don’t really have to make an effort, just pick a half-interesting loser from the hundred DM’s sitting in my Instagram, and it’s done. He does the work and buys the drinks. I put out. I ghost. It’s practically a system.

But I’m bored now. I need somebody entertaining. But no matter what, one of the most important lessons I’ve learnt this year is to never settle for less than what I deserve. (At least for my heart. My body gets it when she likes it, and thats enough.) So I say no to…well, everybody. True love has literally been evading me, and may for a while, I think until this CA shit is done, because it’s more important anyway.

Until then, I literally have a broadcast list called, “FWB.”

4) Do I even need to write about fake friends? Girls are so fucking FAKE NICE, it irritates me. And I have a great group of these girls in my life, who want nothing more than to use you as a stool to get to where they want. I have very few real friends and I’m so grateful for them (okay, her) because everybody else is just about the temporary bullshit. I am always afraid of judgement with them, and everything I say comes with a “what will they think of me?” filter. I don’t think real friendships should be like that at all. No, in a true friendship, you should be able to take both – your make up and fake bitch mask off and sit around in sweats, drinking and complaining about everything that’s wrong with your life.

Is this really how adults act? Will I always have to worry about the ulterior motives of everybody new I meet? And even scarier, if I spend enough time around them, will I also turn into a self centered asshole with no backbone? Will I forget who I am and start adapting to the social settings into which I’ve been thrust?

Because I hope not. Despite everything that’s happened this year, and despite almost losing my mind to mental health (yes! A thing I am still not ready to talk about! But someday will be!) I actually like my brain and what its capable of, once it starts trying. I like the stuff I come up with, the way my thoughts come out as sentences. I am actually a fan of the voice in my head, who – let’s face it – has been a real ass friend to me also. Even though she kind of went crazy with the depression, but I think the recovery has begun.

2018 was a fucking shithole, and god, I fell deep. I know 2019 is going to be even harder but I hope it is filled with more genuine happiness because it’s been a long time since I felt “happiness” as a permanent, internal feeling. It’s just been more of a fleeting and momentary thing for a few hours before the sadness envelopes me and takes lead.

So I hope that when I speak to you in – and over – the next 365 day period that’s about to begin, I am able to share some more hope and joy with you. I hope the motherfucker I’m going to marry stops sitting around on his ass and finds me, because I’m ready for my heart to be won over again. I have mourned enough, and fucked half the high spirits crowd. But most of all… I hope this book I’ve written does well. Not just because it’s a brilliant piece of shit, and a beautiful fucking story (if I may say so myself) but mostly because I really like clothes and I could use the money.

Also it would be great to stop feeling so mediocre all the time, so yeah. That would be nice. Will keep you updated Tumblr!

Love,

NC

[dazzledbybooks]

The Bold Type meets The Social Network when three girls vying for prestigious summer internships through a startup incubator program uncover the truth about what it means to succeed in the male-dominated world of tech. This summer Silicon Valley is a girls' club. Three thousand applicants. An acceptance rate of two percent. A dream internship for the winning team. ValleyStart is the most prestigious high school tech incubator competition in the country. Lucy Katz, Maddie Li, and Delia Meyer have secured their spots. And they've come to win. Meet the Screen Queens. Lucy Katz was born and raised in Palo Alto, so tech, well, it runs in her blood. A social butterfly and CEO in-the-making, Lucy is ready to win and party. East Coast designer, Maddie Li left her home and small business behind for a summer at ValleyStart. Maddie thinks she's only there to bolster her graphic design portfolio, not to make friends. Delia Meyer taught herself how to code on a hand-me-down computer in her tiny Midwestern town. Now, it's time for the big leagues--ValleyStart--but super shy Delia isn't sure if she can hack it (pun intended). When the competition kicks off, Lucy, Maddie, and Delia realize just how challenging the next five weeks will be. As if there wasn't enough pressure already, the girls learn that they would be the only all-female team to win ever. Add in one first love, a two-faced mentor, and an ex-boyfriend turned nemesis and things get...complicated. Filled with humor, heart, and a whole lot of girl power, Screen Queens is perfect for fans of Morgan Matson, Jenny Han, and The Bold Type. Screen Queens by Lori Goldstein Publisher: Razorbill Release Date: June 11th 2019 Genre: Young Adult, Contemporary, Realistic Fiction Review: Screen Queens by Lori Goldstein is such a fantastic book. This is something that we needed in the book industry. With how fast pace the tech industry is, I think we forget that women still struggle with the same things in every industry. In a lot of ways women have gained freedom but we still don't win in the workplace. I think that comparing this book to The Bold Type is pretty accurate. This book focuses on three girls that join an incubator tank to design a new app. It is about their struggles of being girls in a program and with trying to prove themselves because they fact that they are girls. I love how much empowerment this book gives girls and women alike. Lucy, Maddie, and Delia are all at ValleyStart for their own reasons. Delia is ready to be a part of the tech world. She is at ValleyStart to make her parents proud and to try to break into an industry that she loves. For Delia this is an opportunity of a lifetime. For Lucy this is an opportunity to meet big wigs in tech as a future CEO. All she wants to do is prove to her mom that she can accomplish her goals in life without her. Maddie is at ValleyStart to build her design portfolio. These three girls are thrown together to build an app together. I love that this story is told in the three perspectives of these young women. I feel like this really helped the reader get the full picture on what is going on at ValleyStart. I really enjoyed that these women were thrown together and became friends The had lots of issues along the way but in the end they were there for each other and that is how women should be. We should be there for each other rather than tear each other down. Goldstein wrote an amazing book. I really loved this book and I thought that Goldstein did an amazing job. You should definitely read this book. There is so much empowerment for women.  Favorite Quote: Because that's how they were all related. The women that came before, the women of now, and the ones to come. All empowered. For the future they'd create.  Five Things Every #TechGirl Needs 1. Snacks. Long hours of planning and coding demand snacks. Many startups and tech companies have fully stocked kitchens with food and beverages available for free around the clock. Sneak into one and you’re likely to find everything from organic granola to acai bowls to honey lavender lattes, jugs of cold brew with almond milk, and of course, ramen.2. A cool phone case. You never leave home without your phone, so why not use it to showcase who you are? Your favorite artist, motto, book (ahem!), stamp your phone case with it! Your favorite vacation spot, dog, cat, turtle, whatever, one flash shows the world your personality and what you hold most dear. Don’t let your phone go naked!3. Headphones. For times when you are head down, deep in coding, drawing, or whatever your passion is, you need to block out the world and focus. A great set of wireless headphones is key. Skullcandy is making headphones designed specifically to fit women. Pretty cool.4. Collaborators. In the world of a tech, a unicorn is someone who is a tech genius, a wizard able to do it all. If you aren’t a unicorn yourself, the best thing to do is surround yourself with collaborators who complete the skill set needed to create the next killer app. Lucy’s the project manager, Maddie’s the designer, and Delia’s the coder. Together they form a formidable team, and the apps they create prove it. Get yourself a squad!5. Thick skin. Here are the facts: Only 20 percent of tech jobs are held by women even though women make up more than half the workforce. The number of female computer science majors has dropped in the past two decades by more than 20 percent, down to just 18 percent. Only 11 percent of executive positions at Silicon Valley companies are held by women. Here’s what we do about it: Encourage more girls from a young age to think of STEM as a career path. The more women who enter the field, the more role models these young girls will see. It is a cycle that will feed itself. Yet it won’t be an easy road. Women entering this field are sure to encounter some of the discrimination and harassment that the girls in SCREEN QUEENS do. They face this with the strength that comes from knowing someone has their back. So along with that thick skin, make sure you have a team and support one another every step of the way. Excerpt: Four. Still. Only four.Lucy shifted in the hard wooden chair across from her mom’s desk and clutched her phone tighter. She swiped up and down with such force that her Caribbean Blue Baby fingernails would have scratched the glass had she not been diligent about using a screen protector.Twitter, Instagram, Tumblr, Snapchat, Facebook . . . Swipe, swipe, swipe. The likes, favorites, followers, friends . . . she had enough. Enough for her ranking on the Pulse app to be higher than four.Four?Swipe, swipe, swipe, swipe.The pink plastic bracelet the bouncer had secured around Lucy’s wrist danced up and down the same way she had last night, after name-dropping her way into the hottest new club in San Francisco’s Tenderloin District. The fact that she didn’t actually know Ryan Thompson, founder of Pulse, was a technicality that would soon be remedied.Her ♥ our fingers are on the pulse ♥ tee only given to Pulse employees opened doors closed even to most of Silicon Valley’s elite. She’d snagged it from a hipster-preneur six months ago at a party in Fremont. He was so busy claiming he left Pulse of his own accord (uh-huh) because his eco-friendly (read: nonprofitable) idea was going to change the world (i.e., drain his bank account) that he scarcely knew what he’d lost. All it took was a deftly spilled cocktail, an exorbitant dry cleaning bill, and Lucy’s favorite tank (note: pomegranate margaritas don’t come out of silk), but it was worth it.Soon she’d have one of her own.And she’d no longer be a 4.♥♥♥♥Really?The likes on her Instagram story from last night alone should have bumped her up to a 5. Thumping. But here she sat. Still at 4. Still Thudding.She stared at the string of hearts on her Pulse profile knowing that, somehow, this was all because she was wait-listed at Stanford.And that, Lucy knew the exact “how” of: Gavin Cox.Freaking Gavin Cox.She shouldn’t have done it, but her blue fingernail moved on its own, navigating to his profile.Level 6. Throbbing. Gavin Cox was Throbbing and she was Thudding. If only she possessed a male member and a wingspan like Michael Phelps, she’d be Throbbing too. But now that high school was over, winning state would no longer be a crutch for Gavin, and his Pulse would plummet. He’d be lucky to be Beating—a measly 3.Lucy was tempted to knock her mom’s expansive cherry wood desk. But Lucy Katz didn’t believe in luck. Lucy Katz didn’t hope. Lucy Katz didn’t dream. Lucy Katz did.She knew what she wanted.And it wasn’t this.Thudding and wait-listed and this drab third-floor office in this mud-brown building in this sad little Sunnyvale office park.So it wouldn’t be.Tired of the edge of the chair digging into the soft underside of her knees, she scooted forward until her wedge sandals reached the floor.Her mom was twenty minutes late.As usual.Lucy knew enough to show up for their scheduled lunch a half hour after its start time, but she was on time.As always.Lucy planned like other people breathed.Which was why she wasn’t nervous about Stanford. It was a blip. A minor inconvenience. Nothing that an internship at Pulse wouldn’t wipe away like a hard reset on her MacBook Pro.She stared at the gently tanned skin of her exposed ankles and wiggled her toes, enticing circulation to resume after being dangled two inches off the floor despite her heels. She pulled her pink-and-white-striped notebook onto her lap and leafed through the pages, refreshing herself on all the notes she’d taken thus far on ValleyStart, the summer tech incubator program she was about to begin. The five-week competition ended with one team winning an internship at Pulse. If she succeeded (please), she’d spend the rest of the summer at Pulse with Ryan Thompson. And Pulse, well, not even Stanford could ignore a pedigree that included Pulse.Satisfied it was all already committed to memory, she closed her notebook and stared at the shiny gold L floating on the center of the cover—the only Hanukkah gift she’d received last year, sent in a FedEx envelope from her mom’s assistant.She tucked it under her arm and stood, passing by windows that looked out on row after row of blue, red, black, white, and green hybrid cars lined up like Crayolas in the parking lot, the closest the office came to having a pop of color. A four-by-six double frame propped beside her mom’s three monitors was the only personalization in the room.One side held Lucy as a baby, swaddled in her mom’s arms with her dad looking off to the side, toward the London office he’d soon head. The second photo once again displayed the three of them, this time on graduation day, just a few weeks ago. Her dad had scheduled a week of meetings before and after in order to attend.Two milestones in Lucy’s life, as if nothing had happened in between, with the frame leaving no room for anything to come.The graduation photo hung crooked in the frame. She could just see her mom hurriedly shoving it inside with one hand, typing an email with the other, while on a conference call with Singapore, Melbourne, and Dubai.Lucy set her phone on the desk. She pulled off the cardboard backing to straighten the photo and out fell the slip of paper behind it: a smiling baby—not Lucy, simply the picture that had come in the frame. How long had her mom kept that other child beside Lucy? Long enough to forget to print one to take its place, long enough to no longer notice that she should.On the desk, her phone vibrated and lit up with a text.ValleyStart: Team assignments are in! Meet Your Mates!Lucy’s arm shot out like a rattlesnake and her notebook fell, knocking into one of her mom’s monitors.“Lucy!” Abigail Katz entered the room and rushed forward in her expensive flats.“Got it!” Lucy’s tennis-trained reflexes saved the monitor before it took down the others like dominos.Considering Lucy had read and re-read the acceptance packet about a thousand times and been waiting for the past two months to see who she’d be spending the next five weeks with, her restraint in not jumping on the ValleyStart portal instantly was extraordinary.It’s actually happening.Her pulse quickened, and she was almost dizzy as she circled one way around the desk, back to the hard chair. Her mom rounded the corner from the opposite direction, adjusted the tilt of the monitor, and sat down in front of it.With the seven-inch height difference between them, Lucy could only see her eyes. And the tiredness in them.Lucy would never deny that Abigail Katz worked hard.But that was all she did.“I’m sorry, Lucy.” Abigail smoothed the ends of her chin-length bob. The barest hint of gray dusted the roots—a constant battle, waged every three weeks as she colored it back to brown. “They needed some guidance in a branding meeting that wasn’t on my schedule.”“Right,” Lucy said.Abigail reached into the top drawer of her desk and pulled out two protein bars. “Just a quick lunch, then, okay?”Peanut butter. Lucy hated peanut butter. “Sure.” She peeled back the wrapping. Not even peanut butter could ruin her ValleyStart high.“All set for tomorrow?”“Packed the car this morning.” She bounced (just a little) in her seat.Abigail stopped chewing. “Not an Uber or Lyft?”“It’s ten miles.”“Right. Ten.”Half the number of fender benders Lucy had been in. Who has time to spend learning to be a perfect driver?“Fine. Whatever.” Lucy pretended there was no judgment in her mom’s question and forced a bite of the peanut butter. “I’ll leave the car.”“Better plan. You won’t need it anyway.” Abigail set her own half-eaten bar down. “You have to focus. Palo Alto High School may have been competitive, but ValleyStart’s in another league. The top startup incubator for high school graduates in the country with only sixty accepted out of—”“Three thousand applicants, I know.” An acceptance rate of only two percent. Two. Stanford’s was four. The sole explanation . . .Freaking Gavin Cox.The only other applicant from her high school to make it into ValleyStart.Lucy pushed her heels into the floor and all thoughts of Gavin where they belonged—in the past.“I’ve been focused, Mom. I’m certainly not going to stop now.” Top ten in her class, 4.8 GPA, tennis all-star, two marathons under her belt, and still a lecture on being “focused.” Lucy regretted the bite as her stomach churned.“Nothing wrong with reminders,” Abigail said, just as one dinged on her computer and phone in unison, the sound as familiar to Lucy as the squeak of her bedroom door.Lucy stood.“Wait. It’s just . . .” Abigail’s eyes slowly drifted from her three monitors to Lucy’s expertly draped off-the-shoulder tee and perfectly cuffed dark-wash jeans. “I’ve always given you freedom because you’ve shown that you can handle it. Up until now.”Now meaning not getting into Stanford.“But with this, with this new world you’re entering, well, I just want you to be aware of the pressures and the importance of how you present yourself.”“Present myself? I’m not a poodle in some dog show.”“That’s not what I meant.”“Then what do you mean, Mom?”“Letting off steam in high school is one thing, but now you’re an adult.”“So I’ve heard.” Her mom had repeated the same phrase ad nauseam since Lucy’s eighteenth birthday three months ago.“Believe me, Lucy, it’s no secret how little you’ve wanted to heed my advice lately. If and when that changes, you know where to find me.”Right here in this same baby-poop-brown office you’ve lived in since I took my first steps . . . which, naturally, you missed.Heat rose in Lucy’s chest, and all she wanted to do was give her mom a reminder: that the phrase was “work hard” and “play hard.” And the playing bit could yield the same—if not better—results as the working. Connections made things happen. Just ask her Pulse tee.“Sure, Mom.” Lucy brushed her hand through her long dark hair, forgetting she was still holding the brick of peanut butter. She picked a crumb off a strand by her chin and watched as her mom slipped on her computer glasses and turned the world right in front of her eyes crystal clear, blurring everything else beyond—including Lucy.Lucy headed for the door. “Just one small thing . . . in order to give me freedom or anything else, you’d actually have to be around.”She didn’t wait for her mom to look up; she simply wrapped her hand around the metal knob and closed the door behind her with barely a sound, making sure she “presented herself” properly.How am I even related to her?Lucy only made it halfway down the hall before she slowed, leaned her head against the crap-colored walls, and tried to stop her heart from racing.Level 7. Seven hearts was Racing.Like everyone her age, like everyone in the world, Lucy knew the Pulse levels as well as her home address. “What’s your Pulse?” were the first words off of anyone’s lips upon meeting, the first background check determining worthiness for everything from friend to blind date to party invites, probably even job offers.The brainchild of Ryan Thompson when he was only a year older than Lucy, the app amalgamated an individual’s likes, favorites, views, thumbs-ups, and more from every major social media platform, translating it to a simple Pulse level, ranking you from zero, Dead, all the way to ten, Crushing It. Over time, as the app evolved, Level 10s became top influencers, the people everyone wanted to be or be seen with. Advertisers and the entertainment business soon realized that Level 10s’ smiling faces could increase sales and media coverage. Now, 10s got complimentary everything, from the newest iPhones to dips in Iceland’s Blue Lagoon. To be a 10 was to live with all the perks.Once Lucy and her team won the ValleyStart incubator, Pulse would be her second home for the rest of the summer. The prize of an internship at the most successful tech company in the past ten years was worth more than any amount of money.She’d use it to her advantage. Starting now.Lucy opened the Stanford portal and did what she’d wanted to do for weeks, since she was accepted into ValleyStart. She requested a second alumni interview. She knew it was irregular, but she explained that she had new information she was delighted to share—namely the incubator.Lucy then lifted her chin higher and straightened her top. As she passed by the largest office—a suite—she ran her finger along the three little letters on the nameplate: CEO.Pulse would secure that future.At the elevators, Lucy logged into the ValleyStart portal to find not just the names of her teammates but her assigned mentor: Ryan Thompson.For the first time since arriving at her mom’s office, Lucy smiled. About the Author: Author of SCREEN QUEENS, coming from Razorbill, June 11, 2019, and available for preorder now (Amazon, Barnes and Noble, and IndieBound) about three teen girls who attend a startup incubator in Silicon Valley and learn what it means to compete in the male-dominated world of tech. My Young Adult Contemporary Fantasy series Becoming Jinn and Circle of Jinn is a modern spin on the traditional tale of wish-granting genies (Feiwel and Friends/Macmillan). Obsessed with books, beach, and Game of Thrones, Find me at @loriagoldstein and follow my blog and sign up for my newsletter at http://bit.ly/24E6Zjn, my Instagram at http://bit.ly/2x7UFhf my Tumblr at http://bit.ly/1Mbzk8a. Like my author page on Facebook for fun book-related photos, tidbits, and happenings as well as news on upcoming releases. Giveaway: Prize (1): Win a copy of SCREEN QUEENS by Lori Goldstein and two swag packs (US Only) Prize (2): Win (1) of (20) paper doll character cards for Lucy, Maddie, and Delia (INTERNATIONAL+US/CAN) Starts: June 18th 2019 Ends: July 2nd 2019 a Rafflecopter giveaway Tour Schedule: http://fantasticflyingbookclub.blogspot.com/2019/05/tour-schedule-screen-queens-by-lori.html June 18th The Unofficial Addiction Book Fan Club - Welcome Post June 19th Moonlight Rendezvous - Review + Favourite Quotes The Reading Corner for All - Review + Favourite Quotes Young Adult Media Consumer - Review + Favourite Quotes Devouring Books - Review Confessions of a YA Reader - Promotional Post June 20th The Book Thief Without Words - Review Snark and Squee - Review Kayla Reads and Reviews - Review Wall-to-wall books - Review June 21st The Hermit Librarian - Interview Book-Keeping - Review + Favourite Quotes A Few Chapters 'til Love - Review + Dream Cast Hauntedbybooks - Review + Favourite Quotes Bemused Bibliophile - Review June 22nd L.M. Durand - Review + Favourite Quotes Magical Reads - Review + Playlist Kait Plus Books - Review + Favourite Quotes Musings of a (Book) Girl - Review + Favourite Quotes Pooled Ink - Promotional Post June 23rd The YA Obsessed - Review Belle's Archive - Review Frayed Books - Review Firstbooklove - Review Dazzled by Books - Review + Favourite Quotes June 24th Morgan Vega - Review + Playlist + Favourite Quotes The Clever Reader - Review + Favourite Quotes Bookish In Bed - Review Mind of Luxe - Review Kourtni Reads - Review + Favourite Quotes

http://www.dazzledbybooks.com/2019/06/screenqueensblogtour.html

[secondfuckingguessing]

After the No.

After I received a no for my very first interview for work (and the only one I ever managed to get) I’ve been experiencing an emotional roller coaster for the last few days. I’m not gonna lie, my first reaction was a pang in my gut, not even a sharp pang, but a very dull one, as I had expected a no since the interview, I was only waiting for it to drop and be official. Anyway, after that first moment, I got sad, and not because I wanted that internship, but because I felt desperate. Not getting it was going to hinder my liberty, and I was well aware of that. I have a big clock inside my head, and every day I’m one day shorter of days I still have to make a decision: I either stay here where I live, or I drag myself back to mommy and daddy’s home. 

I’ve always mentally avoided this. My mind has linked this possibility as a failure for so long, it’s hard to even look across it. I wanted to come here and build the perfect life, and be a go-getter, and show people I can do it. Now you see, I’m starting to figure out a lot of things about myself, and one of them is this “showing people”. For as far as I can remember, I’ve avoided attention on me, even though I craved it. I just feared everything public, like people staring at me in a classroom, or even winning something and having to go to the front where people would see me. Being silly, doing something that would embarrass me, not being in control, this shit scares the life out of me. I don’t know (yet!) exactly where this came from, but it’s always been here. A few tweaks here and there, but it keeps showing up. 

As I approached teenagehood I started getting panic attacks. A lot was changing, I had an uncle who fell extremely ill and it all messed with everyone in the family and its dynamics. I lost the safety I had. I remember this scene clearly, one day my mom had to travel in a hurry to be with my grandma and this uncle and I ended up late for school. I came to it to discover the class was being held at the computer lab, so I arrive there, alone and somewhat shaken, to find the whole class already paired up in front of the computers. I had to find someone to work with. I approached some people and they told me they couldn’t be my pair, they already had partners. I must have been around twelve, and I cried. There, in the middle of class, I cried cause I couldn’t find a partner to sit with. From them on I felt these triggers whenever I saw or read anything about someone feeling sick or unwell in some way, and it just went downhill. 

By high school, at my lowest low, when it became obvious (even to me) there was something really wrong going on, I was insecure to leave my house. I felt really scared. I was afraid I was going to faint, or die, or whatever. I missed a big chunk of my adolescence fighting my own anxiety. Back then it wasn’t usual to discuss these issues, so I didn’t even know what I was dealing with at first. I missed birthdays, and first kisses and typical teenage stuff. And I had to make decisions for myself. I had to go to college, even though I wish I could, in fact, stop time for a while to think things through. I went to therapy once a week for a year, but I felt the progress I made had nothing to do with it. I had learned how to throw myself into things I felt uncomfortable with. It didn’t make me feel well, but I wasn’t paralyzed anymore. By this senior year, I got better connections to people, spent more time with friends, actually felt better about myself and my interests and ended up applying to (and getting into) architecture school. 

The next couple of years were the most relevant to my life up to this day. There I met people I could identify better. I felt cool. I belonged, I didn’t feel different anymore. I started feeling confident and going out. I moved out to live near my university with a friend. I met a guy, 10 years older at a wedding party and fell madly in love with him. He was everything I ever wanted (or so I thought), he made me feel good about myself (I mean, he noticed me in the first place, and he had competition that night. I wasn’t used to that). After that, I started flirting (and getting flirted with). Anywhere I went, someone wanted me. I was on top of my game. It didn’t last long, though. I always assumed the only way for my life was to be with this guy, after all, I was so in love. After some months and some failed attempts at hanging out, it began to dawn me it wasn’t going to happen. Well, easy come, easy go, the confidence I felt in myself wore off. I got frustrated with architecture. I desperately wanted to win him “back”. I wanted to have my perfect, fun life, back. I dropped out of college. I sent drunken texts I wish I hadn’t. I couldn’t get over it. I talked it over and over. I was so heartbroken I felt empty. I hurt people (not intentionally, but still). I went to study business somewhere else. He had moved back home, so that’s where I went too. It was my only chance to even have a chance ever again. If it was meant to be, the universe would bring us together. It didn’t.

I expected to meet like-minded people at some point, although I knew I was venturing into a complicated field, I had always hated business students. Unfortunately, that didn’t change. Nobody I met there excited me or fueled my inspirations. Making really weak connections and shallow friendships hard, and the quality of them was a new time low for me. I just can’t connect. I invite them out on Saturdays and they don’t even bother answering. They make no effort at intimacy, to the point that after some disguised tantrums and a lot of frustration, I gave up and decided to work on myself. It’s been a long journey of self-discovery and looking at my demons in the eye, and acknowledging some of them have been hiding and they always bring friends. So, when I didn’t get that internship I realized I didn’t care about any of that which it required me to do. This was not what moves me, what thrills me, what would push me further to evolve and feel fulfilled. I would feel frustrated and stuck after a while. I’m not gonna lie, I cried a lot that night and the next morning, I thought it was the last opportunity I was going to get, I compared myself to others, I thought I was worthless if I got out of college without that experience and I was fated for failure in life. I spent the next day in a very poor mood, barely got out of bed. Having to interact with people at college was challenging, I felt triggered every time they talked about their work, their payments or their busy schedule, but the next few days I started focusing on what else I could do. Maybe I’m just not meant to be making spreadsheets when I could give the world something much more valuable. I watched a lot of motivational speakers. I studied a lot about how to change my mindset, how to feel better about myself, how to dare to risk, which tools I could actually use to get me there (somewhere). At the end of the day, I realized going back home might not be the end of the world. I would have a job (safety), I would have money to come here whenever I wanted. I’d get the support and connection I lack here. Of course I’d have to deal with my parents' expectations on a daily basis again, but I’d have money to pursue things that make sense to me, to eventually figure out what I’m supposed to do. As dark and uncertain things might look like now, I’m sure I don’t want to end up doing something I hate later on in life and get there this lonely. It has taught me enough, I don’t need to feel this anymore.