#then Craig comes out the gate with the actual best because little do they know he's actually 9 time Iowa State Fair pig calling champion

[nu-metal-confessions]

who in slipknot would win in one of those iowa pig calling competitions

.

[falcqns]

Issues

Hey, hey it’s your loyal fan! ❤ I thought of this, maybe you’ll like to write about it. Angry sex with Henry, because the girl and he hated each other because their families are close and practically they grew up together. 😄

Pairing: Henry Cavill x Actress!Reader

Warnings: Infinity War spoilers, Bratty!Henry, swearing, smut, fluff, angst.

A/N: Thank you for the request! I absolutely love this idea, I hope you enjoy! I also *definitely* did not base the smut part off of a recent hook up ;)

You were really dreading going to your neighbors cook out with your parents. When they had told you about it, you almost said no, knowing Henry would be there. You didn’t hate his family, you just hated him.

The two of you actually used to be the best of friends. Up until the age of 18, the two of you were inseparable. Then, he started acting, and never had time for you anymore. While you understood that he was busy, it still hurt. The moment your friendship ended didn’t come until you were 24, when he had a break in filming and came back to Jersey for Christmas, and treated you like you didn’t even exist. All he did for two weeks straight was talk about his experience acting, and brag about how hot his new girlfriend was. Not a word to you about anything, and you knew that was it. 

It was after that Christmas, that you decided if he could make it as an actor, you could as well. You auditioned for an agent the next week, and once you made it through that step, you started acting. 

One of your more notable roles was in the Marvel series, playing the character Mockingbird. It was one of your first acting gigs, and everyone was surprised you got such a huge role right away, but you had more than proved yourself to everyone after the first Avengers movie. You had always wondered what Henry thought, but you never asked. Although you had started acting to get back at Henry, you found that you absolutely loved acting.

It was only a week ago that you had finished filming Infinity War, and had 2 weeks off before you started filming Endgame, so when your mom asked if you wanted to come home and visit for a little, you had said yes. You didn’t know at the time that that would entail you going to the Cavill’s house for a cookout. You were going to say no, but your mom insisted, and you agreed.

As you looked yourself in the mirror in your bedroom, you knew you weren’t prepared to see him. You had seen him a few times over the years, at award shows and such, and he had never taken a second look at you. If he did, he would instantly roll his eyes.  You tried to ignore it, but it still stung a little. 

You took a deep breath, and looked at your outfit for the cookout. It wasn’t anything special, just a yellow sundress with white flowers on it. It accentuated your body in the best way possible, and you weren’t complaining. You paired it with a pair of white Vans, and you were ready.

As you walked down the stairs, you felt the dread swirling in your stomach, but you pushed it out of your mind. If you made it through at least 3 hours, you could say you were tired, and head home. You grabbed the fruit platter your mom had prepared, and followed your family out of the house and over to the Cavill’s. 

You instantly heard Henry laughing loudly, and had to mentally prepare yourself to face him. He was never verbally rude, it was only side glances and eye rolls, but it still took a toll on you. 

You walked in, and greeted Marianne and Colin, while Henry played football with his nephews further down the yard. You spared him a glance at his back, but turned to help your mom set up the three lawn chairs she had brought. 

As you got yourself a drink, you felt Henry’s eyes burning into your back, and moments later, his scent surrounded you. You rolled you eyes, before turning to face him. He rolled his eyes, and stepped to the side to allow you to get out of his way, which you gladly did. Your mom smirked at you as you rolled your eyes and walked away. 

“Still not getting along?” She asked as you sat next to her. You scoffed. “Nope. I don’t even know what I did for him to hate me so much.” You said, and your mom brushed a piece of hair out of your eyes. 

“I don’t know honey. Maybe you should ask him,” She suggested, and you almost scoffed again. 

A few minutes later, you made your way into the house to use the bathroom, and your mom took that opportunity to brag about you. As you exited the house, you almost laughed at Henry. He was glaring at the grass in front of him, in a way that almost made you believe he had laser vision, while your mom talked about your career. 

“She actually just booked a role in this new film coming out, called Knives Out! it had Chris Evans and Daniel Craig. It doesn’t start filming until next year, but it sounds exciting!” Your mom said, and everyone smiled, other than Henry. 

“How was filming for Infinity War, Y/N?” Marianne asked, as you sat down. 

“It was great. We filmed in Atlanta and Scotland, which was pretty cool. I can’t say a whole lot about it, but it was fun. Especially getting to work with every one again. A fair amount of the cast dies in this one, so I’m excited to see how Endgame is going to end,” You said, and everyone smiled. Henry scoffed quietly, but you chose to ignore it. 

You continued talking to the people at the cookout, mainly your mom, until Marianne asked if you and Henry could go to the store and pick up a few things that she was out of. You said yes, and Henry rolled his eyes again, before reluctantly agreeing.

You grabbed your car keys and waited for him at the gate to the backyard. You noticed he pulled his car keys out of his pocket, and scoffed. “We’re taking my car,” He said, unlocking his Aston Martin. 

You hit the start button of your Dodge Ram 1500, before turning to him. “No. We’re taking my truck. I refuse to be on of those ‘girls’ in your car that I see all over the news.” You said, and Henry sighed before locking his car and walking over to your truck. You got in the car and put your keys in the ignition. Your phone connected to the bluetooth, and just to annoy him even more, you decided to play ‘F-150′ by Robyn Ottolini. 

“I can drive by your street and not feel a thing Play all of those songs you used to play me Get drunk with my friends and not think to call Could think of you a little, but I don’t think of you at all I’ve been growing up, getting strong, moving on…”

Henry groaned as you pulled out of the driveway. “Really? Country music?” He said. You chuckled. 

“I thought you liked country music?” You asked, and he rolled his eyes once more. “Yeah, actual country music. Not whatever girly shit this is that you think it country music.” 

You felt your frustration growing but attempted to push it back down. “Well, it’s my truck, and I want to listen to this.” You spat at him as you turned the corner.

“I’m just saying I hate it. I thought you’d have better taste in music considering who your friends are.” He muttered, looking out the window. You furrowed your brows.

“Whats that supposed to mean?” You demanded, and Henry laughed sarcastically before turning to you. 

“It means that you can sit there all high and mighty thinking you’re better than everyone just because you’re a Marvel actor. You can brag about being friends with Chris Evans and Sebastian Stan all you want, but it doesn’t make you any better than me.” He grumbled, and you had had enough.

You slowed the car down at the red light before you spoke. “What the fuck did I ever do to you to make you hate me so much? We used to be best friends, and now you treat me like shit for no apparent reason. Why?” You demanded. Henry turned his body to face yours.

“You didn’t even congratulate me on my first acting job. You didn’t even pick up the phone, and at Christmas, you didn’t even talk to me. You shut me out for no reason, so I have a right to be mad about it,” He said, as the light turned green and the car began moving again. You scoffed. 

“I wasn’t the one who shut you out. You came home and all you talked about was filming, and how ‘hot’ your girlfriend at the time was. Of course I didn’t want to sit there and listen to you brag, when you walked right by me, and didn’t even say hi.” “You didn’t even come to the airport with Mum and Dad to pick me up! You were clearly mad and jealous, and I didn’t want to cause a blowout!” 

“I wasn’t at the airport because I had finals you dumb ass. If you’d have noticed, I arrived the same time you did. I waved at you, and you rolled your eyes at me, and started blabbering on and on about your life, without even asking me for an explanation. If you had asked, I would have explained and apologized.”

Henry turned to face you again, and the car turned down the road that would lead into town. “You didn’t even call me. You had my number.”

You pulled the car over abruptly on the dirt road. “NO YOU DIDN’T!” You screamed. “YOU SAID ‘CALL ME’ AND NEVER GAVE ME A NUMBER! AND WHEN YOUR MOM FOUND OUT AND GAVE IT TO ME, YOU NEVER PICKED UP! ALL I KEPT GETTING YOUR ASSISTANT, SO I STOPPED CALLING, AND SETTLED ON TALKING TO YOU AT CHRISTMAS!” You screamed again.

Henry jaw locked before opening his mouth again. “YOU COULD HAVE SAID THAT YOU DIDN’T HAVE IT! I WOULD HAVE GIVEN IT TO YOU! I WAS GOING TO ASK YOU TO BE MY DATE TO THE BAFTA’S AFTER YOU GOT NOMINATED FOR THE FIRST AVENGER’S MOVIE, BUT YOU DECIDED TO GO WITH SEBASTIAN, EVEN THOUGH HE WASN’T IN THE MOVIE! YOU WERE JUST TRYING TO MAKE ME JEALOUS!” 

Your brow furrowed. “We were already filming Captain America The Winter Soldier then, and I asked him because he is like a big brother to me, and I could call you because you hated my guts. Chris had a girlfriend, and everyone else was busy, so Seb came with me. And if you’re going to sit here and just ‘assume’ Seb and I are dating because we went to an awards show together, you’re fucking insane. He has a girlfriend, so don’t even go there. For the record, if you had asked me to go with you. I would have said yes.” You said. Henry laughed again, and you wanted to hit him.

“Yeah sure you would have. Why did you even get into acting in the first place? Because I did, and you were jealous?” He questioned, crossing his arms over his chest.

You looked out the windshield. “That was a part of it, but mainly I did it because I was head over heels in love with you, and you abandoned me. Do you even know how much it hurt me to hear you talking about your girlfriend that year at Christmas? Do -” You started to say, before you were cut off by Henry undoing your seat belt, and attempting to pull you over the middle console. 

It took a few tries, but he eventually got it, and you were straddling his waist. He looked at you angrily, before slamming his lips to yours. You yelped into the kiss, but melted into it seconds later. Henry ran his hands over your hips and under your dress. His fingers grazed over your covered mound, and moaned at the feeling of the soaked fabric. His hands traveled back up to your hips, and pressed you down onto his growing hard on. 

His lips traveled from your mouth and down your neck. He sucked a hickey into where your neck connects with your shoulder. You gripped the back of his head, and moaned at the feeling of his stubble ticking your skin. His right hand traveled in between your legs, and pushed your underwear to the side.

His fingers traveled through your wetness, before he pulled his hand away. You whimpered at the loss of contact, but you swallowed it as you glanced down and saw him undoing his pants. He pulled his hard cock out seconds later. You barely got a glance at it, before he was pushing inside of you, slowly. 

Once you were fully seated on his cock again, he tilted the seat all the way back before placing his hands behind your knees. You went to move, but squeaked when you felt a slap land on your right butt cheek.

 “Don’t you fucking move,” Henry growled, and all you could do was nod. Henry adjusted slightly, before he started pounding into you right off the bat. He let go of your left knee, and pulled your shoulder until your shoulder crashed into his. He took both of your hips into his hands, as he quickened his pace. You let out a moan, but that earned you another swat on the butt.

“Shut the fuck up,” He grunted out, his hands moving from your hips to take two full handfuls of your ass. “Been pissing me off for years, and it seems the only way you’ll shut the fuck up is when a dick is in your fucking pussy. If you make a fucking sound, I'm going to stop, and leave you all wet and dripping for the rest of the day.” He threatened, and all you could do again was nod.

He slapped your ass again, and grunted, his hips snapping against yours quicker. Henry trailed his right hand over your hip, and in between your open legs. He traced his fingers over the skin of his cock that was quickly disappearing and reappearing inside of you, before trailing up and over your soaked pussy, his thumb finding your clit instantly. he rubbed quick circles, and you felt the pressure of your orgasm quickly approaching. 

“You better fucking cum before I do or you’re not coming at all.” Henry spat, yet another slap landing on your butt cheek. You bit back a whimper, and nodded. He gripped your hips and pushed you up before his thumb returned to your clit. “I wanna see your face when you fucking cum. When you fall apart on my cock, ‘cuz I’m the only one who can fuck you this fucking good, right? Do Chris and Seb fuck you this good? Have you drunk off just my cock in less than 5 minutes? Bet they can't,” He grumbled, and your back arched and the pressure grew even more. You clawed at his chest to alert him about your orgasm, but that earned you a slap on the thigh.

“I’m about to cum, so you better hurry the fuck up and finish,” He growled, and you nodded pathetically. You felt your legs start to shake, you and you bit down on your lip as it washed over you, and you squeezed Henry’s cock in between your walls. He gripped your hips, and pulled you down on his cock as he came, and filled you with spurt after spurt of his cum. 

You collapsed onto him moments later, and teared up when you felt him brushing hair out of your eyes and pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead. His thumb brushed away a stray tear that fell out of you eye, before tilting your chin up to look up at him. He gave you the sweet smile that you hadn't seen in over 10 years, before mending all the broken pieces of your heart with 4 words. 

“I love you too,” He whispered, a tear falling from his eye, as he pressed a sweet and soft kiss to your lips. “I love you so much. I’m so sorry that I made you think that I hated you. I was conflicted. I was so in love with you and I didn't know how to handle it, so I went out of my way to hurt you, which is pathetic. I promise you I will never hurt you again,” he said, and smiled when you rested your hand on his jaw.

“I know. I think our issue was that we were so horny for each other but we didn't know it. I’m just glad we sorted it out,” You whispered and pressed a kiss to his jaw and he tightened his arms around you and smiled. 

“Yeah, me too.”

[not-playable-character]

Edit: new link https://archiveofourown.org/works/32099263

ITS DONE!!!!  Finally, the RE8 meets RE7 fic is finished and posted!  so for everyone wondering and if you didn't figure it out already. The image I posted earlier is the seating arrangement of the gang as they play the game.  As always its posted on AO3 and under the cut.  I hope you enjoy @ibest14 I never actually played RE7 but I watched a walkthrough to write this.

It was a normal Saturday afternoon when the Winters family got a very strange package.  It was addressed to the whole family and had no return address.

“What the heck is this?” Rose wondered aloud carrying the small package inside, “Hey mom! Did you order something online?”

“Not that I remember, why?” Mia asked curious why her daughter was asking about the mail, “Who is it addressed to? Maybe your dad ordered something.” She went and stood next to Rose to look at the package.

“Hmm, I think we should wait for dad to get home to open it, I mean it is addressed to all of us.” Mia agreed with her daughter and went to continue making dinner.

Ethan got home a few hours later and was greeted by his daughter with a warm hug, “Haha, hey there kid how was your day?” He asked returning the hug and picking Rose up.

“It was good! We got a weird package in the mail, mom and I decided to wait for you before opening it.” Rose said leading him into the kitchen after he put her down.

“Welcome home, Hon! How was work?” Mia asked kissing Ethan on the cheek.

“Ugh, Williams was an absolute pain again.  He somehow unplugged all of his equipment and disconnected his computer from the ethernet cable again.” Ethan complained sitting down at the dinner table next to Rose. “Chris somehow changed his computer to Arabic and Sal’s computer was changed to have wingdings as the default language and it bricked the whole thing, he said it was an accident, but I think it was one of the dicks that keep harassing him.  I told Chris and he’s looking into it.” Ethan picked up the package and looked at the outside.

“Ugh why can’t these douchebags see that Sal is way better than them.  Probably just jealous of him.” Rose said frustrated at the harassment her uncle was receiving.

“We should invite him over for dinner sometime, lift his spirits some!” Mia suggested placing a glass of juice down for Ethan.  He agreed and thanked her for the juice.

Ethan handed the package back to Rose who tore into the packaging.  Inside was a video game box, “Resident Evil? Isn’t that a game from the nineties?” Rose asked confused.

Ethan leaned over to get a better look, “Yeah it is, I played almost all of them, but I’ve never seen that one.  It looks like its supposed to be the seventh one, but they only made six that I know of.” Ethan became confused taking the box from Rose studying it, it strangely didn’t have a back cover.

“Weird, maybe they are rebooting the series, but why wouldn’t there be a lot of news about it?” Rose asked.  Ethan’s face lit up at the possibility of a reboot of his favorite childhood series.

“Man, I hope so, I always loved Craig Bluemarsh and Leo C. Harrison.  They were the best!  The whole M.O.O.N.S squad from Badger City.  Special Ops turned paranormal investigators was the twist of the decade! And the whole thing with Egbert Walberk and how he possessed himself with countless demons to become basically a god.” Ethan sighs as he reminisces.

“You clearly have bad taste honey because Julie Easter was the best character in the series.  The ace of the M.O.O.N.S squad, the one that Walberk kidnapped to force demons into her with a mind control amulet.  Oh, and don’t forget Chloe Bluemarsh, college kid turned aid worker for those affected by the demons.” Mia added as she chopped vegetables for dinner.

“Ahh yes, how could I forget! Anyway, this looks like a cheap bootleg or fake.  Probably just a prank from Dani or Angie.”  Ethan said tossing the case further on the table looking upset.

“Aw man…. That’s lame dad.” Rose says dramatically throwing herself over the back of the chair.  “I’m keeping it anyway; the box looks cool.”

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A month after the whole package incident, Rose bursts into the house beaming.  “Dad, Uncle Chris just told me that we are having a meeting with the whole gang! We should totally bring that janky game we got and show it off!”

“Whoa, slow down Rose! You’re gonna hurt yourself running around like that.” Ethan says watching his daughter bounce in place.  “Why do you think we should bring that thing anyway? I doubt there will be anytime to just sit around and play a game, if it’s even real.”  Rose rolls her eyes at him.

“Dad, I’m sure Uncle Chris can pull some strings so we can have a little get together.  We never get to see each other all at once!” Rose states, putting on her best puppy dog eyes, “Don’t you want to see the gang, Dad. It would be so much fun.  You know how much I miss them all.” She begs.

Ethan can physically feel his resolve crumbling at his begging daughter, always caving into her once she pulls out the puppy eyes, “Fine, I’ll talk with Chris and we can bring the game with us, but you are responsible for the PlayStation and if it gets damaged or broken you have to buy the new one.” He says in his dad voice, trying to be stern.  Rose squeals and jumps into his arms hugging him.

“You’re the best dad ever!” She says running off to prepare for their long weekend at Blue Umbrella.

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“Ok, is everyone comfy, I’m about to start the game!” Rose said excitedly setting up the PS4 in the Blue Umbrella lounge room.  Everyone was present, Rose even convinced Miranda and Elena to join them after Milena was put to bed.

“I am unsure of what we are even doing sweet thing.” Alcina said settling into her chair near Donna.

“Well, I’m gonna play this weird game I got, maybe Dani can take over if I get tired.  We are just gonna check it out, if its good, Great! If not, we can make fun of how bad it is!” Rose explained sitting down on the couch wedged between Daniela, Angie, and Heisenberg with Bela and Cassandra on the floor in front of them.  Alcina wasn’t convinced that it would be fun, but she couldn’t deny Rose’s request considering how excited she looked.  She sighed and pulled out her reading glasses seeing the small text on the screen.

“Psh, what are you a grandma?” Heisenberg teased. Alcina growled at him.

“Oh, please grow up you child.” She replied trying to de-escalate the situation knowing Rose and her daughters hated when they argued.

“I see making your head bigger didn’t help your eyesight.” He continued to tease sensing her anger.

“I grew proportionally you ignoramus, becoming larger would not fix my farsightedness.” She growled out becoming angrier.

“Guys….” Rose said sadly at the two arguing.  Heisenberg immediately stopped his next sentence and turned to give Rose a side hug.

“Sorry kiddo, I forgot you hate it when we fight.  I’ll stop, I promise.”  He says sincerely as Alcina nods looking guilty, Rose smiles accepting their apologies.

“No more sappiness get to the action I’m getting bored!” Angie cried out from Daniela’s lap.  Rose rolls her eyes at the doll’s bratty attitude and begins the game.

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The game begins with a very familiar video to Ethan and Mia and the sight of Mia recording her warning message on the ship.

“What the…. How is this happening?  It showed the recording from my eyes, but I never recorded that…” Mia says stunned.

The next scene starts with the sound of a phone ringing and the overhead video of a car driving down a highway.  Ethan begins to speak to and unknown man in the voice over explaining how he was contacted by Mia and that she wants him to come and get her.

“This has to be a sick prank!  How did these people get that phone call!” Ethan shouts getting more and more upset as the clip plays. Mia places a hand on his arm to comfort him.

“Maybe there will be an explanation later.  There has to be….” Mia says trying to calm Ethan.

Rose pauses the game as it shifts to Ethan’s perspective in the car, “We don’t have to keep playing if this is making you guys uncomfortable.” She says to her parents.

Ethan takes a deep breath, “No, no… it’s fine, you were really excited for this.  I was just shocked.  I’m okay to keep going, as long as you are okay too Mia.”  She nods in agreement with her husband clearly rattled but pushing through.  Rose nods continuing the game as she walks Ethan through the thick Louisiana swamp towards the Baker house.

The first obstacle they encounter is a locked gate.  She moves him down a path leading to a trashed car with camera equipment scattered around it.  Looking in they find a scrip proposal for Sewer Gators Ep. 17.

They then come across a broken gate with a sign that says, “Accept Her Gift”, “Oh yeah definitely just walk through that incredibly ominous gate into the disgusting swamp.” Heisenberg says gesturing towards the screen, “I’d just say, ‘sorry lady I’m not that desperate for a wife’ and dip.”

“He has a point dad, I mean really its been three years.  Just move on.” Rose says to her father.

Ethan blushes, “Hey you can’t judge a man in love.  I had to know what happened.”

“Nah man, just accept the death bro.  Totally not worth it.” Daniela says interjecting.

“I’m right her you know.” Mia says scolding them.  Rose giggles and continues on.  They come across the remains of a fire with Mia’s purse laying there.  They then enter the Guest house finding it to be disgusting and in disrepair.

“God, I forgot how gross this place was.” Ethan says wrinkling his nose.

Rose looks around the living room area, finding a hidden chain that opens a hidden room they go through. Exploring further leads them into a flooded basement they are forced to crawl through.

“Oh, please Ethan, I know you are insanely stubborn but the corpse in the flooded basement should have been an indicator to leave immediately.” Alcina says as the dead body floats up in front of them.

“Ok, Ok I get it I’m a crazy person for going on, but can we please stop commenting on it.  I’m aware of the insanity.” Ethan replies as Rose comes up into a basement room with a jail cell containing Mia as well as other information on people who were listed as turned or dead.  They pick up the bolt cutters and break open Mia’s cell.  While they are being reunited Mia acts strangely warning him of the dangers and of Daddy.

“Pft, seriously? Daddy?” Dani snickers at Mia.

“Don’t start.  I was possessed by a child obsessed with family.” Mia says glaring at Dani.

Rose follows Mia through the basement where she and Ethan stop to talk about the last three years.

“Come on! This is a life or death situation, get a move on!” Cassandra yells out at the screen.

Rose continues to creep through the basement following Mia as Ethan learning more about her capture as they walk.  They come across a living room type area where Mia starts to act strangely, talking about family and when Ethan leaves, they hear her crash through the wall revealing a staircase to the house.  They move through the house looking for Mia.  They hear crashing coming from the stairs they came from and return to find Mia on all fours crawling up the stairs.  She attacks Ethan looking monstrous as she throws him back up with superhuman strength. She then attacks him with a knife stabbing him through the hand.  After a struggle she regains control rambling about a strange her as she slams her head against the wall.

“Jesus man, that is hard core…” Heisenberg says in awe. Mia grimaces at the memory.  Rose continues on wandering before they are attacked by Mia once again.  They fight her off with an axe.  “Ethan, my friend, you always have to double check that your enemy is dead.  She is definitely gonna get up again, classic horror trope.” Heisenberg says wisely.

“Karl, this actually happened.  I wasn’t thinking about ‘horror tropes’.  I was focusing on surviving.” Ethan says to him.

“Also, of course I’m going to get up, I’m sitting right here.  I’m clearly not dead.” Mia says exasperated.

Rose moves on with the game ignoring them and answers the phone that had begun to ring.  “Dad why did you answer the phone? Just leave.” She says as Zoe gives her warning to Ethan.  “Oh yeah let’s listen to the random phone lady and not just break a window.” She says rolling her eyes.

They move on solving the puzzle for the stairs catching a glimpse of the not at all dead Mia.  Replacing the fuse, they are jumped by Mia again who attacks him with a screwdriver pinning him to the wall before chopping his had off with a chainsaw.

“My god man! How did you keep going!” Sal exclaims looking at Ethan who just shrugs.

They find a pistol in one of the rooms and use it to take care of the attacking Mia as she rants crazily. Finally taking her down, they are ambushed by Jack Baker who punches him in the face.

“See I told you that you should have moved faster, now ‘Daddy’ caught you.” Cass says as Ethan falls over and is stomped on by Jack.  They see him being dragged and Mia being carried by Jack, the scene changes to Ethan strapped to a chair with Zoe staples his hand back on.  He finally fully awakes to a disgusting family dinner with the whole Baker family.

“Ugh, I miss Momma’s cooking so much.” Mia says reminiscing happily.  Everyone stares at her as they see the disgusting meal on the table in game.  She blushes, “Before she went fully crazy, she was an amazing cook.  Her gumbo was to die for, oh and Daddy’s fried chicken, mmm.”  She explains to them.  No one seems convinced as the scene continues with Lucas throwing food at him and Marguerite tries to get Ethan to eat, and Jack cuts off Lucas’ hand. Jack comes over and forces the rancid food into Ethan’s face as Marguerite rants and leaves angrily, Jack then cuts Ethan’s face before being interrupted by the doorbell.  They escape and flee through the house trying to find an exit. They find a key and are chased by Jack before escaping to the crawlspace.

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They explore the house before a police officer tries to ask Ethan questions.

“Man, that officer is kind of a dick…” Heisenberg says realizing how rude and unprofessional the officer is.

“He was a massive dick.” Ethan says frustrated at the memory of their interactions.  They make the way to the garage to meet the rude officer who refuses to take the situation seriously which leads to his death and Ethan’s continued entrapment.  “See, massive dick, we could have escaped, but noooo.” He says.

Rose nods in agreement as she avoids Jack in the garage and tries to defeat him with the car.  The car crashes and catches fire revealing an on fire Jack who is knocked down by the resulting explosion.  They collect the items in the room before climbing up the revealed ladder. Jack stops Ethan and shoots himself in the head with Ethan’s gun.

“I’ll say it again, he ain’t dead.  He’s coming back sooner or later.” Heisenberg says again.

“Yeah, no shit Sherlock. This game’s been full of tropes so far.” Cassandra responds to him rolling her eyes.

Rose continues on solving puzzles and making their way through the labyrinthine house avoiding the obviously not dead Jack and the molded that are scattered around the house. They see Jack mumbling to himself about being “her” and talking about how he is going to kill Ethan.

“God he’s so cool.” Dani says as he leaves the room getting looks from the others, “What? He’s a cool villain.”

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The fight with Jack was a bit of a struggle for Rose, but she made it through with Heisenberg, Dani, and Cass cheering her on.

When he finally exploded, both Heisenberg and Dani called out in joy, “Now that’s how you kill a villain!” Heisenberg shouted out with a laugh and high fived Dani over Rose’s head. As they make their way through the house again completing puzzles and finding Grandma in random places.

“She is the one who caused all this.” Alcina says pointing at Grandma.  Ethan and Mia looks shocked.

“How did you know that?” Mia asks. Alcina scoffs as if it is obvious.

“She hasn’t had the focus at all, yet she appears at random seemingly following Ethan, who we know is the next victim in mind.  She is clearly Eveline.”  She says smugly to everyone’s shocked faces.

Rose moved on ignoring the gloating.  She came across a trailer in the yard, exploring it revealed that it was Zoe’s home containing some useful items that she ignored moving to leave as the phone rang. Zoe explained about the mold and how to progress.

“Why are you so trusting of this woman, you don’t know her, and she has admitted that she is a part of the family trying to kill you?” Bela asked turning to face Ethan.  He opened his mouth to answer but nothing came out, he paused thinking and shrugged.  Bela rolled her eyes at him, “Typical man thing.” She mumbled out returning to her original position.

They move on to the old house and Marguerite just as Zoe instructed. Coming across baby dolls strung up from the rafters of the bridge.  “Whoever made those should be killed.” Donna said quietly.  Everyone looked at her confused.  “The look like such poor quality dolls, anyone who cares would never let them fall apart so easily.  Cheap plastic is the worst fate a doll can experience.” She explains confident.

“You aren’t upset at the fact that they are strung up, just that they suck?” Rose asks her.

“Of course, you can do what you like with them, but the craft must be respected.  These cheap factory made ones are a disgrace.”  Donna explains upset at the virtual dolls.  Rose mumbles an ok before moving on into the bug infested old house.  They make their way through the house avoiding mutant bugs and solving puzzles.

“Gotta say girls, these things really remind me of you three.” Heisenberg says as Rose burns her way through the nests of bugs.

“How dare you compare my girls to these disgusting things!  They are clearly superior in every way.” Alcina says angrily defending her girls.

“Thank you, mother, but he has a bit of a point.” Bela says to her mother with Cassandra nodding in agreement.

“Momma has a point though too! We are better than those things!” Dani says beaming at her mother. Cass mumbles suck up under her breath and is smacked by Dani.

Soon after they find Mia in game again, she explains her amnesia and is taken away by Lucas.  Not being able to help they continue on through the house again.  Eventually they are found by Marguerite who begins to stalk them through the house attacking them with her swarm of insects, insane rants, and vulgar obscenities.

“This lady is something else…” Heisenberg says cringing at Marguerite.

“For once we agree on something Karl.” Alcina agrees cringing as well.  The others nod in agreement with them.

They make their way through a secret passageway revealed by the spider shadow puzzle.  The wall space was infested which had everyone cringing at the writhing masses of centipedes.  They collect the crank and the crow key and try to enter Marguerite’s room before she throws him down the stairs and through the floor.  After a short encounter, she falls into the hole and melts into black goo. They collect information on the D series pieces and Zoe calls again, and she mentions they only need the arm piece as she has the D series head.  They return to the hole to see the goo gone and a long spindly arm take the lantern needed to progress.  They follow the monstrosity to well in front of the old house returning to Zoe’s trailer. They return to a new section of the old house where they are attacked by a mutated spider like Marguerite.

They run around the house, avoiding her swarms and attacks while burning her with the flamethrower and peppering her with shotgun shots to the disgusting nest on her lower half.

“I take it back; you girls are way more similar to the bug lady.” Heisenberg says once she finally dies. Alcina slaps the back of his head and growls at him.

“Momma can we mutate like that too!” Dani says excitedly as Bela and Cass cringe.

“Absolutely not.  Do not even think about trying.” Alcina scolds while Heisenberg and Rose chuckle at them.

“Why would anyone want to have a gross bug vagina?”  Cassandra turns around asking her sister.

Dani shrugs, “I don’t know, I just think it would be neat.” Rose shoves the controller into Dani’s hands and takes Angie from her.

“No more bug talk, you play, I’m getting tired.” Rose says stretching.

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

They find their way into Eveline’s secret room and collect the arm.  They go to meet Zoe in her trailer only to find that no one is there.  They answer a call from Lucas where he tells Ethan that he has both Zoe and Mia, and that Ethan needs to play his game to save them and get the head.  They make their way back to the main house’s dissection room where they pull the snake key out of the dead deputy’s neck hole.  Lucas’ voice come out through a speaker explaining they need to find two keycards so they can meet.

“Ohhh, I love this guy! I’m getting so many ideas for new games, hehehe!” Angie says excitedly bouncing in Rose’s lap.  Donna glares at the doll chastising her through their mental link.  Angie pouts at the scolding.

They make their way through the increasingly molded main house solving Lucas’ puzzles and dodging the molded shambling around.  They find the blue keycard and make their way down into a secret room containing the red keycard.  Lucas calls again at the phone in the main hall, leading Ethan to a party in the barn.

They enter the barn to thumping music and glowing paint under a black light.  They come across a room with a television showing Lucas ranting and waving the D series head around, ranting about how he doesn’t want to give up his gift and that they can only get the serum from him before the television explodes.  They make their way through the barn avoiding trip mines and coming up to a locked gate with a passcode.  Lucas makes an appearance taunting Ethan and giving him incorrect passwords before a trap springs and a secret door opens up.

They wind through the barn avoiding the traps and taking out the molded arriving at Lucas’ arena where they fight off a giant molded.  After the fight they find the correct passcode to enter the birthday room.  They solve his puzzles and escape through the hole created by the dynamite.  They see a television with Zoe and Mia, Zoe explains where they are before Lucas cuts the camera to himself ranting about nothing.  They collect the D series head and leave the barn making their way to Zoe and Mia.  They release Zoe and Mia before collecting the completed serum.  Just after they are ambushed by a fully mutated Jack.

“Wait he isn’t dead?! I can’t believe I didn’t call it!” Heisenberg calls out as Dani fights Jack.

After a long grueling fight, taking out Jacks many swollen eyes and using one of the two serums to calcify him at Zoe’s request.  Walking down the pier they are faced with a choice to cure either Zoe or Mia.

“Well clearly we are supposed to cure mom. Its what dad did in real life.” Rose says.

“True, I did.  I did feel bad though, Chris ended up saving Zoe and her uncle, so it all ended up good.” Ethan says.

“Yeah, sure choosing Mia is what really happened but what if we chose Zoe?” Dani asks hovering over Zoe in game.

“No! We can do it later right now we are choosing mom.” Rose says sternly.

“Fiiiiinnnnnee.” Dani whines out giving Mia the serum.  They take the raft down the river listening to Ethan and Mia talk about the situation before they come across the wrecked boat Mia and Eveline arrived on.  They are attacked by the mold, and they switch to Mia’s perspective as they hear Eveline speak to her through their mental connection.

“Well, this is going to be interesting, I’ve never seen this before.” Ethan says as they move into the ship. They find an unconscious Ethan who is taken by the mold deeper into the ship.  They move through the mold infested ship as Mia, getting flashbacks as they move on.  They follow the phantom Eveline to a room containing a television where they watch a video tape that blends into them playing through the situation leading to the crash of the ship and the infection of the Baker family.

They see Mia’s partner Alan who explains he is the reason Eveline escaped he explains that she needs to fix his mess and they begin to track Eveline through the ship.  They finally come across Eveline in the engine room before she runs off again.  They find Alan again in the room next to the one where they started the video tape. As he explains that Eveline is deteriorating, he insults her, and she overtakes him with the mold.  The mold then spreads to Mia infecting her.  They then see Mia recording the warning video from the beginning of the game.  The section ends with Mia being blown off the ship and floating unconscious in the water, before returning to the present with Mia and the Phantom Eveline talking. Making their way to the bridge they use the surveillance cameras to find Ethan trapped in mold in the engine room. On the way there they are impeded by the phantom Eveline and the remaining molded.

As Mia finds Ethan, the perspective swaps back to Ethan’s mind as he speaks to a sane Jack.  He explains that Eveline is the cause of all the murders and kidnappings.  He says that they were infected when He rescued her from the crashed tanker.  Jack also explains that stopping Eveline will stop the mold.  Before Ethan awakens to Eveline and Mia arguing.  Mia rips him free from the mold prison and gives him the tissue sample before locking him out of the engine room urging him to kill Eveline.  They continue through the bayou to a salt mine near the Baker house.  They hear a military broadcast explaining a team was sent in to take down Eveline. They traverse the salt mines finding an underground lab with information on Eveline and the E series mold.  They use Eveline’s tissue samples to make the E- Necrotoxin that is used to kill her permanently. As they exit the mine, Ethan sees flashes of Eveline as she sends the molded to kill him. They exit the mine into the original room Ethan found Mia in where he has a vision of Mia panicking.  He continues to see visions of Mia’s attack on him and Eveline controlling her.  They stab Eveline with the serum, and she reveals her true form as Grandma before melting away and mutating into a large monstrosity.

As Dani fights the massive face of Eveline, Miranda mumbles to herself, “Absolutely fascinating.  How she responds to different stimuli and the delayed injection of the Necrotoxin.” Rose and Dani scream forgetting that Miranda was sitting behind them.

“Jesus Christ! What is wrong with you! You scared the living hell out of us!” Rose yells at her turning to face Miranda who has a notebook open in her lap.  “What are you even doing?”

Miranda blushes at being caught, “I was taking notes on how E-001 reacted and how the family responded to the infection.  It is incredibly fascinating that the whole Baker family mutated without becoming one of the shambling molded.”

“Trust me she was about to run off and work more before I stopped her.” Elena interjects into Miranda’s rambling.  “Don’t worry, I won’t let her work on the Eveline project outside of simply watching videos.” Miranda’s blush deepens and she looks embarrassed at being called out by her lab assistant.

“Good, no more mind control children allowed.” Dani says rudely turning back to the screen continuing the final fight.

Ethan is thrown from the house and sees helicopters arriving at the house as he is attacked by Eveline. He uses an unknown gun to shoot Eveline calcifying and crumbling her finally.  After the battle, Ethan and Mia are rescued by Chris.  The final shots of the game are Ethan speaking over clips of marshlands and the reveal of the Blue Umbrella helicopter.

“Well that certainly was something….” Ethan says as the credits roll.  Mia wide eyed and shocked nods in agreement.

“So, all that actually happened?” Rose asks her parents, they both nod. “Ok well that doesn’t explain how the heck this got made or why we were sent it or by who!” Rose rants.

“Who cares, it was awesome!” Dani exclaims high fiving Angie who cheers with her.

“Can we leave now? My back is beginning to hurt.” Bela complains standing up and stretching.

Rose boos her, “Fine be boring.  What did everyone else think?” She asks everyone left in the room.

“Amazing! Fantastic! Ten out of ten!” Dani exclaims clinging onto Rose.

“It was interesting, very cinematic.  A bit tropey at times but it works in its favor.  Especially since this technically happened.  The villains were enjoyable and empathetic at the same time.” Heisenberg critiques.

“Yeah, whatever it was fine.” Cass says getting up and leaving the room.

“I had quite a nice time, I’m glad you suggested this, Rose.” Alcina says picking up the sleeping Donna. “I’m sure Donna will apologize for falling asleep tomorrow morning.  Have a good night.”  She kisses the top of Rose and Dani’s heads and leave the room.

“It was quite informative, thank you for inviting me, Rose.  I truly appreciate it.  Now I must go and review my notes.” Miranda says looking at her notebook as she slowly leaves the room.

“We are actually going to bed, but thanks for inviting us, Rose.  We’ll have to do it again soon!” Elena says grabbing Miranda’s arm and taking her notebook.

“I think your mom and I have some talking to do, but you guys have a good night sweetie.” Ethan says getting up before kissing Rose on the head.

“Yeah, outside of the horrifying content of this ‘game’ it was fun.  Have a good night honey.” Mia says following her husband to their room.

“Alright seems like the party is dying down and someone has to get Sal to his room.  Seems like he and Donna can’t stay up late like us cool kids.” Heisenberg laughs out shaking Sal awake.  Sal stands up groggily and leans ion Heisenberg as they leave to their respective rooms.

“Lame everyone left. You want to stay up or are you hitting the sack too?” Dani asks Rose.

“I think I’m going to bed too.  I have a lot to think about.” Rose says hugging Dani, “See you in the morning Dan.”  Dani decides to follow Rose and they head to bed.

In his assigned quarters, the Duke watches the group scatter to their rooms for bed, “I’m glad they enjoyed my little gift.  Hopefully, it answers some questions for them.” The Duke says to himself chuckling.

[crimsonbluemoon]

For the prompt game 12//07//25 please? Ah... Ohmtoonz? or a pair you've been itching to do :3

EACH TIME I SAY I WONT OVERDUE IT

Yet here we are. >.> 

AU: BabysitterTrope: Childhood friendsPrompt: “I know this looks bad, but I swear it’s not.” 

Pairing: Ohmtoonz

“Okay, I know this looks bad-” Ryan had to take a deep breath to keep from bursting out in laughter at the scene. His kitchen, which had been pristine and tidy when he’d left for a meeting with his lawyer three hours ago, was covered in more colors than he thought he could process. In the middle of the room sat Joe, hands splotched in yellow and smearing the substance down the tiles already coated in pink. The ‘babysitter’, (the term used very loosely, since it was a last minute decision after Joe’s original babysitter got sick) was in no better shape. Blue clumps of paint (Ryan hoped it was paint) were threaded through hair he remembered being much fluffier when they were children. Age had tamed it, though the red beard was even brighter now with fingerpaint between the strands. The place, his four year old son, and his babysitter were a disaster that Ryan still wasn’t sure whether to laugh or cry over. “But I swear it’s not.”

“Luke.” Trying to keep from smiling, Ryan stepped forward, hands leaving his slack’s pockets to point above. “My ceiling is purple.” 

“And orange!” Joe supplied happily, splashing his hands down into an actual pile of paint beside him. 

“What happened? You’re a police officer; you literally shoot people for a living. How did a four year old get the jump on you like this?” Ryan had to tease, because it’d been so long since he’d been able to. Luke had always been the one that got away; his best friend for nearly two decades before, at eighteen, he left to travel Europe and ‘find his meaning’ in life. Ryan had wanted to go, nearly asked to join, but had simply stood in the airport and held back tears just long enough for Luke to enter the gate without seeing them. He’d been head over heels in love back then, and sometimes he’d thought the feeling was mutual. But all the ‘what ifs’ flew away with Luke on his plane, and Ryan had forced himself to move on. 

Eight years, one messy divorce, and a son later, Ryan had run into his high school love at the bank four months prior. Luke had come back to their hometown years ago to become a cop, but Ryan’s wonderful ex-wife had demanded he move to the west coast with her. He’d never got wind of Luke’s return, too distracted by the birth of Joe and the mother of his child abandoning her duties to run off with the pool guy. Ryan hadn’t been able to move back to his hometown until four months ago, still working on finalizing the paperwork and letting Joe finish his first year in pre-school before moving him back across the country. 

He’d felt a little lonely, raising his toddler without a hand to help support him on days he didn’t want to get out of bed. It wasn’t like his marriage had given him much in that department, either. She’d been distant after Joe was born, jealous of the attention Ryan gave their son, and sought her happiness in someone else. She hadn’t even said goodbye to their son when she left, which had been the coldest part of it all. And Ryan didn’t know how to de-thaw from her abandonment. Joe helped, because he was Ryan’s world. Honestly, the only good thing about the marriage was the ball of optimistic sunshine. But he had bouts of crying and questions about why his mom left that kept Ryan awake and aching for hours. Wounded with nobody willing to help heal him. Maybe he’d always been that alone, that empty and unlovable-

Except one look of relief and the words ‘There you are’ in a bank full of people was enough to fill his heart to the brim again. 

“Your kid’s way sneakier than the idiots in our town.” Luke glanced down at Joe with a grin that proved his next words were affectionate. “Like a damn little squirrel.”   

“That’s my favorite animal!” Joe gasped out, and Ryan shook his head in disbelief. Two days ago, it had been a flamingo. He’d begged Ryan to buy him a lawn decoration of the pink bird, which Ryan had firmly said no to. They barely even had a lawn, and he knew that Joe would never play with it. The puppy dog eyes were hard to refuse, but Ryan was getting better at putting his foot down. They did not need the bird.

But then Joe asked Luke, who bought it before Ryan came back from the bathroom. Ryan wasn’t sure who he scolded more that night over chicken fingers and fries. 

“Yup, you mentioned that. Six times.” Without an ounce of annoyance, Luke let Joe climb onto his lap, sitting cross legged so the toddler had a better seat. Green was smeared over Luke’s sweatpants from where Joe had dragged his knees, but like the amazing human he was, Luke didn’t show any regret over being a human jungle gym. “And remember what I told you each time?”

“Daddy’s favorite animal is a bunny,” Joe chirped back, and the long forgotten memory bubbled up too quick for Ryan to hide his blush.

“Luke!”

“What? I didn’t tell him why you like rabbits so much.” Except there was a grin on Luke’s face that was anything but innocent. Because how could it be, when Luke had never let him live down the time he walked in on Jonathan and Evan’s first time. He hand’t meant to blurt out ‘they were fucking like rabbits’ so loudly, and didn’t know that Mini had been recording the party. Craig got the perfect angle of Ryan nearly throwing himself down the stairs to escape the traumatizing experience. He wasn’t sure who had the tape anymore (maybe Panda, since his friend always liked to watch it whenever he was needing a pick me up), but Ryan had to guess that Luke watched it over a hundred times. 

“We’re not talking about this,” Ryan said, sending Luke a meaningful look through his blush. “We need to talk about who’s going to clean this disaster you and my son created.” 

“I’ve got the kitchen if you take the rugrat.” The offer of help was so simple, yet every time, it sucker-punched Ryan. Luke had not been expecting Joe when Ryan came back from California, blaming Jonathan’s ‘lack of understanding with the English language’ as to why he didn’t know. Ryan hadn’t been a fan of social media, and only kept in touch with a few old friends from the town. But like Joe was his own, Luke didn’t hesitate to jump into the fray with Ryan, helping out whenever he could. Being a cop meant weird hours and long shifts, but Luke never complained when he popped over to visit them after work. Ryan never needed to ask for help; Luke just gave it. Whether it was cooking Joe food while Ryan took a much needed shower, or picking out pjs as Ryan bathed the fussy kid, Luke was there to lend a hand and a smile right when Ryan needed it.

But for the life of him, Ryan couldn’t figure out why. Luke was attractive and single, and the talk of the town even now. It was hard to go into the supermarket without hearing one of the cashiers asking Ryan how Luke was doing. It was common knowledge in their little town where Luke spent most of his days, and it seemed people thought the best way to catch his attention was through befriending Ryan again. The jealousy and insecurity from high school reared up, and Ryan had to attack it with a fire hose to keep from Luke knowing. Luke had a right to date, to court whoever he wanted, because he didn’t owe Ryan and Joe anything-

“Uh oh, daddy’s daydreaming again.” Joe’s words and a snort of Luke made Ryan re-focus, turning his attention back to the two still on the floor. Luke looked so content with the toddler in his lap, and Joe showed no signs of discomfort being so close to the other man. They were covered in paint and his house was a wreck, but Ryan felt his heart swell at the warm image. 

“Maybe you should go pick out your pjs so I can check in with your dad.” Luke’s words were like magic; with a quickness that he never had when Ryan asked him to move, Joe scampered out of the kitchen. Little purple footprints made Ryan groan, but his shoulders barely got to slump before warm hands were pulling him forward into a hug. 

“You’re covered in paint,” Ryan protested weakly, though put up no real fight. The smooth hand that slid down his spine melted his stress away, and Ryan felt helpless to the urge of sinking into Luke’s warm chest. 

“What did Tyler say?” Luke didn’t mince words, but kept his voice low against Ryan’s ear. There was no reason to shiver at the contact or intimacy of their position, because Ryan knew it meant nothing like what his heart hoped it would. 

“He said this next court case will be the final one; she’s not fighting for any custody.” He should have been happy about the news, since it’d been what he and Tyler had asked for when discussing Joe’s fate. But it’d stung, knowing that even now, his ex-wife wanted nothing to do with the son they had created together. How did he explain that to Joe when he got older? When he asked questions about her, when he got angry and confused about his own self-worth? Ryan would do whatever he could to raise Joe with love and care, but fights would happen. They’d disagree over bigger things than eating broccoli or only reading two stories before bed. Who would Joe turn to in those moments? That was why he’d probably tried so hard with his ex-wife to begin with; he’d never wanted Joe to feel unsupported or disadvantaged because he’d only have Ryan. 

But he couldn’t make her love Joe. And that killed him more than the divorce ever could. 

“She’s an idiot.” Luke’s words of anger toward a woman he never met was unlike him. Charisma and open-mindedness were his middle name, never judging a book by its cover. But Joe’s mother seemed to be the one exception, Luke showing disdain toward her from day one. “She had everything anyone could ever want, and she gave it up like an idiot.”

“You really liked babysitting Joe that much, huh?” Ryan tried to make a joke, but his laugh was cut off when Luke grasped his shoulders and pulled him back far enough to force eye contact. 

“I’m not just talking about him.” The serious gaze made it hard to breathe, Ryan’s chest stuffed with too much to sort through. His eyes blinked slowly, reminiscent of the unspoken feelings he’d shut down at the airport years ago. Now they oozed out without his permission, and he didn’t have a plane to help hide them this time around. 

“I’m…I’m not-”

“Not what? Intelligent? Charming? Sweet? A great father that your kid would spend every second of the day with if he could? Not someone who deserves love?” Luke’s words were followed by a grin, a warm palm cupping Ryan’s face and slowly dragging a thumb under his wet eye. “Not the most amazing guy I’ve ever got to meet? Who, if I ever got the chance to call my husband, would never go a day without knowing how crazy in love with him I was? Cause I’ll tell you right now, you are all of those things. Every single one of them. You are worth so much more than you could ever know. And I’ll knock out any fucking moron who says anything else.”

“Luke…” But what could Ryan say? His stomach fluttered at the words, hope rising in his throat and keeping his vocal chords from speaking again. There was no room for protest, because Luke’s steady words and lack of hesitation proved the statements came from his very being. He really saw Ryan as something to brag about, as someone to keep. When his own wife, who was supposed to want him until death do them part, threw him away. Ryan knew he needed to say something, to give a response in some way to the confession (and Jesus, did Luke say he loved Ryan?), but his mind was too fuzzy and scared to speak and destroy the fantasy. 

“Luke said a bad word!” Joe, however, had no such problems, and Ryan forced his eyes away from Luke to see his son with his hands pointing to the counter. “He needs to put money in the swear jar!” 

“Oh, ri-right.” Ryan swallowed slowly and tried to focus, but a little peek at Luke from the corner of his eye made his heart jump into his throat again. His blush was deep, he knew it, but there was no saving himself. “You owe a dollar to the jar.” 

Luke’s grin was a mile wide as he slipped past, dropping the bill into the jar while keeping his eyes set on Ryan. And when he spoke, Ryan knew he wasn’t speaking about the swear. 

“So worth it.”

[marvelhero-fics]

Silent Britain

Series - Chapter One

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Summary: You and Tom are working as love interests in a new Scorsese film, essentially leading to be love interests in real life

A/N: This is technically chapter one! Thanks for all the support on the prologue I'm glad heaps of you enjoyed it! I also wasn’t really planning on doing a taglist for this fic but a lot of people requested to be on it so I ended up making one (it’s below the cut at the bottom). If you’d like to be on it just send me a message or leave a comment on pretty much any Silent Britain post. Thanks for the support again!!!!!!

This chapters a bit of a slow-burn but next chapter get much more interesting. Please go read the prologue first, this chapter will make much more sense if you do. It’s linked down below in the masterlist. 

The italics in this story are the readers thoughts!

Word Count: 3,800

Silent Britain Masterlist || Full Masterlist 

And there goes the explosion. “I need to pull over. I’m about to have a stroke.”

The next two weeks truly flew by. You were partly happy, because you couldn’t wait to fly out to California and meet everyone, but it did also heighten your nerves. You did as much research as you could about Britain in the 70’s, even taking time to go see your grandparents who were conveniently alive at the time. But, by their description of the decade you could tell they must’ve been on some crazy drug back then, I guess that’s a pretty big tell of what the 70’s were like anyway.

“I promise you’re gonna do such an amazing job, I’m always just a phone call or text away if you need me, (Y/N/N).” Evie sung, pulling you into the tightest embrace.

“I know, Eve. I’m gonna miss you so much.” You pouted. To make life a little easier for yourself, you’d decided to fly out to California and stay there until production started, which was set to be in about a month. That way you didn’t have to fly there, then home, then there again, considering it was a twelve hour flight, and God, you hated flying.

“You are going to be incredible, my darling girl.” Your mum stated, giving you a hug and a kiss on the cheek. She knew she wouldn’t be able to see you for a while so she’d come over to send you off.

“Thanks mum. I love you heaps and I’ll call you when I get there.” You were incredibly close with your mum. She had always been such a huge support system for you and your career, you always credited any success you had to her.

And with that, you were in the car being driven to the airport.

~

The twelve hour flight had taken your physical and mental battery down to about 0. Even up in First Class all you did was read your script over and over, and panic. As well as getting some time to watch The Departed, one of Scorsese’s incredibly well done films. Unfortunately, instead of enjoying it, you essentially studied it. Fortunately, you got to use your ‘Taxi Driver’ notebook. Is this slightly obsessive? You studied how DiCaprio and Nicholson delivered their lines, and how often the sets changed, and all the camera angles. God, you’re purposely trying to freak yourself out now.

Touching down in California was nice. The first thing you really noticed was the heat. It was July, so it was the middle of summer, and in California it got hot. Of course, you weren’t complaining, this meant nice air conditioning on set, as well as good weather to work with in production. Yea, that would be the only thing I think about.

An older looking gentleman stood at the arrival gate with a sign that read (Y/L/N) in bulk letters. You quickly went over to greet him. Lazily, you strolled out to the large SUV, trying to get as much time on your feet as possible after the long flight. You’d seen photos, and heard horror stories of actors being mobbed at airports, with fans even waiting at the arrival gates all day to catch a glimpse of their favourite celebrity. That never happened to you, but you tried to be much more thankful than jealous. Large crowds weren’t really your forte.

“How was your flight, Miss (Y/L/N)?” Your driver politely asked, turning on the engine of the car.

“It wasn’t too bad. It just felt super long,” you chuckled, sluggishly.

“Well, at least you’re back on solid ground now.” He smiled through the rear-vision mirror.

“Yea, very happy to be. Out of curiosity, are you picking up any other members of the cast?” You peered up, knowing this man likely worked for the studio.

“Indeed, I am. I picked up Jude Law yesterday morning, and Daniel Craig and Rachel Weisz last night.” He responded,

“Huh, and what’re they like?”

“Well, Mr Law was very friendly, we ended up chatting most of the way to the hotel. And Mr Craig and Mrs Weisz seemed lovely, but I didn’t talk with them very much. They were a little more closed off.” He continued, you simply nodding to his words, “And I believe I’m picking up a Mr Holland much later tonight.”

“Oh, right. Busy day for you then.”

“Well, it’s just the usual.” And with that, you stopped talking. Your mind wandered off the small talk. God almighty, it’s gonna be a fucking long night tonight. You thought, simply just processing all the things you knew you had to organise before tomorrow. The ride to the hotel didn’t seem like a very long one, or maybe it was? Maybe you’d zoned out to an entire different reality and didn’t notice time passing, either way you made it to the Four Seasons and checked in with no trouble at all.

It was pretty much exactly what you’d expect from the Four Seasons. A small, spacious living area, with a large, grey L-shaped couch, and a big-screen TV. A small kitchen to the left, that you’re sure wouldn’t be able to make more than a bowl of pasta. A bedroom off in a separate room, with a bed that was far too big for one person. And an Asylum-white bathroom with a bathtub that was going to make your stay here much better. Looks like this is home for the next month. Being apart of the Hollywood scene, you got kind of used to hotel rooms becoming a second home. The amount of time you spent essentially having to tour around California for filming, staying in different hotels with similar-looking hotel rooms just became second nature.

First point of action; now that you’d touched down and gotten comfortable, was to call your mother. She’d slowly figured out how to worry less about you, now that you were older and had figured your life out a bit more, but she was still always going to be a mother.

The phone only rang twice before she picked up. “Hey, mum.” You greeted,

“Hi, love! I’m glad you’re safe and well, how was your flight?”

“Long. But the hotel’s really nice.” You responded, letting your body fall back onto the king-sized bed.

“Did you watch any movies?”

“Yea, I watched The Departed.”

“Oh, that’s a bit of a grim film, love.” Your mum stated, being as motherly as ever.

You chuckled a bit, “wait until you see the film I’m about to be in.”

“Did you get any sleep on the plane? And how was the food?”

“Yea, the food was really nice, it was like a salmon and couscous thing. And no, I didn’t really get any sleep, but I didn’t really try too, I kinda had a lot of other things to do.” You spoke.

“Well, you need to make sure you get some sleep tonight. And you let me know if you need anything at all!” Your mother conveyed

“Thanks, mum. And I promise everything is going fine, I’m fine. And I’ll let you know how the cast meet up and rehearsals go.” You returned. And with her best wishes, your mother hung up. That left you lying there, your body slightly sunken into the soft mattress of the Four Seasons bed. Almost every celebrity you’d met had told you to not search your own name on the internet. They always told you you’d find some very unfavourable things, but if you didn’t go looking for it you wouldn’t find it. So with that excellent mentality, you searched your name.

(Y/N) (Y/L/N). It took only seconds to type and click enter. The first article talked about the upcoming film. I guess the news already broke. It was probably leaked purposely for publicity, you didn’t care either way.

Upcoming Scorsese Film to have Star-Filled Line Up, Signing Hopkins, Hardy, Bale, and (Y/L/N). Being called a star was quite nice. It always shocked you just a little bit, knowing that people knew your name. Knowing that you’d actually become news. This is what you’d wanted for a long time though, to be a movie-star. You read further into the article.

‘Scorsese’s latest film to centre around 1970’s British Mob family, the Bakers. No news on the initial release date, however official members of the cast include Tom Hardy, Anthony Hopkins, Christian Bale, and (Y/N) (Y/L/N).’ The article showed photos of the four of you, including a photo of Scorsese. At least they picked a nice picture.

‘If this mobster film is anything like we’ve seen in the past from Scorsese, we can expect a stunning and vivid look at the ugliness and volatile nature of true Gangster films. Potentially even a few Academy Awards if Scorsese continues his war-path of masterly crafted cinema.’ You even chuckled at that last line, the Academy Awards. You’d attended the Emmys last year and that was the highlight of your life. If you were at the Oscars you’d probably spontaneously combust. You flicked your phone off and threw it to the other side of the bed, lying patiently in the quickly setting Californian sun. Am I supposed to feel this overwhelmed? You simply sat with your thoughts for a few moments, knowing that nothing was going to be the same after this film. Martin Scorsese essentially started Robert De Niro’s career in Taxi Driver, same with Jodie Foster. Not to mention Al Pacino’s career starting in a 70’s gangster film too. Each of these actors now being multi-award winning, millionaires. I don’t think I could function being that famous.

Once you’d finished basking in the glory and horror of it all, you sorted out your clothes from all of your luggage, and headed to bed. It was probably still too early to be in bed, but you’d had no sleep on the flight and just wanted to rest, especially for the chaos of tomorrow.

~

That all-too-familiar noise of your phone alarm ripped you back into consciousness. Surprisingly, you’d slept like the dead last night. You thought the panic and nerves would’ve kept you up, or disrupted your sleep, but thankfully it was actually very peaceful. Wonder how long that’s gonna last. Everything you did during the morning was mechanical. Having a shower, getting dressed, doing your hair and make-up. It was all just simply going through the motions while your mind ticked away. You tried to remember every part of the script, while also going over today’s encounters. Am I supposed to act like a fan of these actors? Or do I act super cool? Like I don’t care?

Your gaze rested upon your figure in the mirror. Wearing a casual pair of jeans, a regular t-shirt, with your favourite Nikes. Along with bits and pieces of jewellery that fitted. Do I look too plain? Like one of the million assistants on set? Was everyone else going to be dressed up? What sort of cast meet up is this? It was 9:00 am, so regardless of your racing thoughts, you didn’t have any time to change. You grabbed your hand-bag, script, and note-book and went downstairs to get into the car the studio had sent, and with that you were on the long drive to set. Neither you or the driver talked to each other, you partly blamed yourself for not initiating conversation. Your mum would’ve been upset with you. ‘No matter how famous you get, my darling, you’re not allowed to look down on others. You can never think of yourself as better than others. You’ll always be a regular person, who makes mistakes, and does great things. Always, always be kind.’ She’d always lecture you. God, you’d kill to have your family here with you.

The SUV pulled up to the lot, getting access to the private area where the meet-up was happening. You made sure to thank the driver before you met up with a shorter, plumper lady, who obviously seemed like she was expecting you by her greeting.

“Welcome to the studio, (Y/N). My name’s Angela, I’m the production manager for Silent Britain.” She spoke, the Californian accent very prominent in her voice.

“Nice to meet you.” You responded,

“It’s nice to meet you too, if you could just follow me, I'll take you to the room where everyone’s meeting.” She said with a smile.

“Sounds good.” Angela walked you to the huge garage-type room. Well, it wasn’t actually a room, it was just an empty stage on the lot. The 12 ft tall garage-like door was open to let natural light illuminate it. It was full of people, most of whom you’d never seen in your life. Everyone from the special effects men, to the boom mic operators, to the assistant director were packed in. Luckily it was a huge area. Angela told you to follow her further, taking you to a separated room down the other end of the stage. This was the room full of actors. God, we’re pretentious. Needing a whole other room to ourselves. Not only did it have the main actors, it had quite a few background actors. Which, admittedly, you were slightly thankful for. If it was just the main actors you’d be the least famous person in the room, and that’s never the best feeling.

Angela let you know that the meeting would be happening very soon. By meeting, she essentially meant the presentation about the film, and how production was going to work and such. And with that flow of information, she left. Leaving you to fend for yourself in a room full of actors.

Who the fuck am I supposed to talk too? Why does everyone seem to know someone already? “Hiya!” A loud, high pitched noise rang behind you. You turned on your heel to see a slightly shorter girl with long, wavy brunette hair.

“Hi?” You returned, not sure if she was mistaking you for someone she knew.

“I’m Allison.” She introduced, extending her hand out.

“Oh, right. I’m (Y/N).” You smiled back, shaking her hand.

“Yea, I’ve actually seen you in quite a few films before. It’s really nice to meet you.”

“Wow, I’m really not used to actually being recognised.” You somewhat laughed, feeling some of the tension leave your shoulders.

“You’re playing the lead role in this film though, aren’t you?” She queried.

“Yea, Elizabeth Baker. I’m still not entirely sure how I landed that. Do you mind if I ask who you’re playing?” You responded.

“Of course! I’m playing Donna, which is one of Lizzie’s school friends.” She explained. It was only a very minor role, with maybe one line of dialogue. But she seemed happy enough to be here.

“Oh, well, thanks for introducing yourself. Now I’ll finally know someone on set.” You joked.

“Do you not know the other actors already?”

“Honestly, no. I haven’t really had the chance to meet anyone yet.”

“You should go over and introduce yourself. You’re the lead role! And maybe you could introduce me to some of them.” She laughed, trying to slightly play off the words she just said. Ah, lovely. Someone trying to use me to their advantage.

“Hm.” You simply smiled. “I think I’ll just grab a coffee first, then maybe I’ll socialise.” You added, taking almost no time to venture away from her.

You moved towards the small tables set up with coffee, tea, water and small snacks. You couldn’t help but notice the divide in the room. There was the big-time actors to one side of the room, and the lesser-known, mainly extras to the other side. You also couldn’t help but notice that you stood on the extras side of the room. In the moment you didn’t particularly care. You spent time fiddling away with the sugar packets, not even making a coffee as you thought about your next move. You needed to go introduce yourself, to at least one person you were going to be acting beside. But who were you supposed to choose? I bet Daniel Craig wasn’t this nervous introducing himself. Fuck, I wouldn’t be if I was James Bond.

Without thinking past James Bond, you walked over to the ‘A-list’ actor area. Fuck it, I’m the greatest. It’s an absolute pleasure to meet me. You repeated, entirely trying to sike yourself up. Daniel Craig, Michael Fassbender, Christian Bale, and Rachel Weisz stood in a small group, chatting amongst themselves. Oh, this is definitely the most threatening group. You thought, diving straight in.

“Hi there,” You interrupted, “I just wanted to introduce myself, I’m (Y/N) (Y/L/N).” You spoke, confidently. Good thing I’m such a good actor.

“Nice to meet you,” Michael responded, his Irish accent thick as he spoke. Daniel, Rachel, and Christian all introduced themselves after, breaking into a conversation about Martin Scorsese.

“I actually haven’t had the chance to meet him. Not properly at least.” You stated, referring back to your audition were you simply spoke in front of him, without him engaging in much conversation.

“He’s great. He’s incredibly intelligent at what he does, but he is really fast paced. He seems to constantly be thinking about the next thing to do.” Daniel began speaking, “But try not to be nervous, he’s pretty good at sensing nerves.” He smirked. Awesome.

“As if the cast wasn’t intimidating enough.” You joked, earning a chuckle from the group. The five of you continued to discuss past acting experiences, and working together on other films and such, with yourself not having much to bring to the conversation. Simply being happy enough to stand with these four god-like actors.

Angela seemingly appeared out of nowhere in front of the crowd of actors, earning a hush amongst the group. She began by thanking everyone for being here, and introducing herself once again as the production manager. She explained the outline of what was going to happen, and when production was due to start, most information of which you’d received in emails earlier. All and all, it was a very quick meeting. I guess it was more about getting to meet everyone. Angela finished her statement and the crowd sparked conversation again, most of the background actors dispersing off. As you were about to say your goodbyes, a smaller, younger gentleman walked up to where you and your newly formed actor friends stood. He handed each of you a small envelope.

“These are from Martin, inviting you to dinner with him tonight. All the information is on the letters. Please RSVP as soon as possible.” He stated, scuttling off to the next group.

“The theatrics,” Christain stated, waving the envelope, “that’s very Scorsese.” He finished.

“Who was that kid?” You asked Michael,

“Would’ve been Martins PA, probably.” He replied, opening his letter. You shrugged and opened yours. The beautiful calligraphy hit you first, each letter individually addressed to each actor. By the looks of it, the main cast of about 12 of you were invited, along with the higher up crew members. It was being held at his property in Hollywood. Well, this should be fun.

“I guess we’ll see you all there.” Daniel stated, earning a cheer of goodbyes from the rest of you as him and Rachel walked off.

“I better head off too,” You smiled, leaving Michael and Christain behind you as you strolled towards the door, continuing to read over your letter. The handwritten note occupied so much of your thought, that you’d forgotten to look where you were walking. All of a sudden, you were stumbling straight into someone's torso. The first sense to hit you was the scent, the only way you could think to describe it was the smell of the wealthy. It was an incredible cologne that you could only imagine A-listers would wear.

“Sorry, love.” His voice sung, the thick British accent very apparent. His larger hands came up to grab your shoulders, steadying your body. His grip was firm against you arms. You could feel the heat of his hands through the thin material of your shirt. You couldn’t help but notice the veins slightly bulging from his tanned forearms. You face moved up so your gaze aligned with his. Brunette curls, light brown eyes, glowing smile, a jawline that looked like it was carved from stone.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry. I wasn’t looking where I was walking.” You awkwardly laughed as Toms taller frame stood right in front of you. Do not freak out.

“Don’t worry about it.” He responded, “I was meaning to come meet you earlier, but I got a little caught up. I’m Tom, by the way.” He added, his grin not leaving his face. Yea, I fucking know.

“It’s nice to meet you, I’m (Y/N).” You replied, politely.

“Yea, I’m actually a bit of a fan. I’ve seen some of your work in the past, I’m really glad you got this role.” He added.

“Oh, wow. I thought we we’re going to play it cool, but I’m a huge fan of yours too. I love all the Marvel stuff.” You broke out of your ‘big-time actor’ persona. He chuckled at your comment.

“I see you got an invite, too.” He pointed down at your letter, holding his in his hand too.

“Oh yea. Have you ever done this sort of thing before? Like this whole dinner with the cast thing?”

“Yea, a few times actually. Robert Downey Jr loved doing this stuff for the Marvel cast.” He returned, “with the directors, and the crew and everyone.”

“Right, well I’ve never done all this before. It’s pretty crazy.”

“Yea, I know. The cast of this movie is fucking insane. I’ve never seen so many stars in one room, honestly.” Tom acknowledged. “You seem like you’re holding it all together pretty well.”

“No, I’m just a really good actor, internally I’m absolutely freaking out.” You stated in a joking manner, earning a laugh from Tom. I mean, it’s true.

“That’s great practice for the film them.” He replied, his eyes looking deeper into yours. You could almost feel your knees turning to jelly.

“I’m so sorry to leave you stranded like this, but I really need to get back to my hotel and sort my shit out for this dinner tonight.” You spoke, truthfully.

“Oh, yea. I should probably go do the same. I guess I’ll see you there.”

“Yes, you will. It was really nice to meet you, Tom.” You expressed, your hand moving to rest against his bicep as you cocked your head with a smile. He returned the good-bye and you waltzed out of the stage. Your heart was pumping in your throat and you had to bite down on your lip to suppress your awfully huge grin. Maybe this wasn’t going to be so bad.

Taglist!

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[ladyseaheart1668]

Endless Summer Book 4: Daughter of Vaanu (Chapter 37)

WOW, this chapter took way longer than I meant it to. But it’s also forty pages long, so that might explain it.

CW: Brief mention of sexual assault this chapter, not graphic.

Tagging: @mysteli ; @whatmcsaid ; @xo-endlessmayhem-xo ; @endlesshero1122 @feartheendlesssummer ; @tigerbryn11

Chapter 37 : Night of the Twelve

Craig

On Christmas night, I fall asleep spooning Zahra. I wake up later and find her gone. The digital clock on our bedside table says it's a little after three in the morning. This isn't unusual, since Zahra's an insomniac. It happens a lot less these days, but it still doesn't make me panic or anything. I think I've been in the same position since I fell asleep, because my limbs are feeling crampy. I roll over, stretching, and find Zahra sitting up at the computer with a cup of coffee beside her. She's frowning at the screen, her fingers rubbing her lips absentmindedly. She looks up when she hears me moving.

“Good. You're awake. Come look at this.”

“I'm not awake,” I mumble, yawning. “Come back to bed.”

“I found something, loser. Something important.”

“So important it can't wait until morning?”

“Yes. Get over here.”

I groan, dragging myself out of bed. I shuffle over to the computer, pulling up the second chair and plop down next to her. There's an article pulled up on the screen, with a picture of an attractive blonde woman.

“What am I looking at?”

“Cassandra Chandler's obituary. Look at this.” She points to a line on the screen. I squint at it.

“Can you zoom in?” She rolls her eyes, but she enlarges the text. “...'Matthew Chandler and his wife Cassandra (nee Sullivan) of Manhattan were victims of Wednesday's deadly plane crash.' ...So...Alodia's parents were from Manhattan? Is the what you're showing me?”

“No, Craig!” she sighs, exasperated. “Sullivan! Cassandra's maiden name was Sullivan!”

It takes a moment for that to sink in. “...Wait...like Flora Sullivan?”

“Now you're catching on.”

“But...it's not like Sullivan is a rare name, right?”

“Almost three-hundred thousand Sullivans in the United States.”

“So...you think Cassandra Sullivan-Chandler is somehow related to Flora Sullivan?”

“I think there aren't many coicidences where Vaanu is concerned.”

I yawn, rubbing my hands over my face. “...Come back to bed, Z. You can worry about this more in the morning.”

“I'm worried now,” she grumbles. I wind an arm around her waist and lower my head to nuzzle her neck. She sighs, whining a little, and tips her head so that her cheek is resting on my head. “...Fiiiine. I'll come to bed...”

Everett Rourke

Throughout this month, I have been giving interviews to the Man on Fire. Of course, he uses a psuedonym with me, and why should he imagine I have any idea who he actually is, when I have been in prison for five years? I have allowed him to suspect I have been in contact with Silas Prescott, and perhaps that has led him to have suspicions that I know more about him than I am letting on.

I feel a bit of melancholy as I gaze across the table at him today. Hope has been growing within me since I first saw Silas activate his Prism Gate, but my years in this prison have changed me. I am harder, and yet I am less confident. That was inevitable, I suppose. Prison makes a person hard, because one must be hard to survive it. And no matter what happened to result in a person being locked away, the moment when the door slams shut is the moment when failure is realized. Perhaps it is the inmate's failure, perhaps it is a failure of justice. But someone has failed, and failure shatters confidence. I wonder if I haven't lost my edge in this nightmare I have lived for the last five years. I wonder if my perception is slipping, if there is any chance I have tipped my hand a little too far to this wild card. Not that there is much time to worry about it. Alodia's child is due in four months.

“Mr. Rourke,” Caleb begins after a long stretch of thoughtful silence, “what do you think about the Prism Crystal giving people superpowers?”

“What do I think about it? I think it must be quite a boon to those fortunate individuals.”

“What I mean is...scientifically. Why those people? How does it work?”

“Ahh. That, I could not tell you. Nothing like that ever came of my own work with the crystals. My old friend Silas Prescott would know more about that than I would. He surely did a great deal of research following the event.”

“...And then he attempted to take over Northbridge.”

I chuckle. “Oh, is that what you think he tried to do?”

The young man raises an eyebrow. “Seemed like it, considering he basically said as much while he was shooting up with liquid prism.”

“You don't know the man like I do. He is not a man who naturally craves power, nor is he an idiot. Liquid Prism's effects are obviously temporary, and eventually, he would have been put down, even if he had succeeded in taking out Dragonness.”

“So what do you think he was really after?”

I shrug. “Perhaps you should ask him.”

He frowns. “Yeah. Maybe I should.”

I lean back in my chair. “I suspect we are reaching the end of our time together, Mr. Harding.”

“...Yeah...yeah we are...” Caleb gathers up his supplies. As we both stand, he obligingly reaches across the table to shake my hand.

“Happy New Year, Mr. Harding.”

“Yeah. Ditto, Mr. Rourke.”

He leaves me, and I am returned to my room. When I am left alone, I find myself standing in the middle of my quarters, casting an almost wistful eye over this...cell that has been my home for the last five years. I wonder if I will miss it. When my plans come to fruition, when I have regained what I have lost, will I ever yearn for this place that has become so familiar? It is doubtful. But one never knows for sure.

Silas Prescott

The winter solstice has passed, and the daylight hours increase incrementally each day. Still, I eat my dinner alone in the dark each night, hardly bothering to put more than a candle or a single light on at one time. I feel safer, wrapped in darkness. Lately, I have been feeling vulnerable, almost paranoid. I startle whenever my phone rings, and I can always hear the quiver in my voice when I answer. Most of the time, the voice on the other end is the same one I'm listening to tonight. Everett's contact. The man who goes between us.

“Rourke has the information he needs regarding the Trojan Project. He got it from Blaire Hall.”

“Can she truly be trusted? I remember Blaire. She is ambitious, and generally pragmatic. ...But there is an idealism in her. Unless she has grown harder and colder in recent years, I can't imagine she will have any reason to get behind this plan. ...Especially because it's likely to bring her daughter into harm's way.”

“She is already tugging at her leash,” he admits. “But if she gets off that leash, she'll have reason to regret it. Rourke knows things about her. Secrets she would not like revealed.”

“I am going to trial after the new year. How shall I handle that.”

“For now, just go along with it. Do as you are advised by your lawyers. The outcome won't be of any concern. Just be prepared.”

“I will be prepared. ...As long as I can get my Helena back, I am prepared for anything.”

Raj

“I'm scared.”

Lila's voice is soft, barely dominating the cheerful pop tunes and dance music bounce out of the rental car's speakers, even though the volume is so low they're basically background noise. We're boxed in on a California expressway, traffic currently moving at a snail's pace, so I feel pretty safe taking my eyes off the road to glance over at her. She isn't looking at me, her face turned slightly toward the window.

“...She knows you're coming. She won't hurt you. I wouldn't bring you if I had any doubt about that.”

“I know. I trust you. But...after so long...after the way things ended...”

“They ended with you on our side. On her side.”

“...I don't know if Estela actually sees it that way.”

“Even if she doesn't, she moved beyond the need for revenge a long time ago. And now that she has her mom back, I'd be willing to bet she'll be a lot more likely to let go of any lingering bad blood between you. Especially because tonight is mostly about Michelle and Alodia, and she won't want to sour anything.”

Lila turns slightly toward me and I catch a glimpse of a wry smile before I turn my eyes back on the road.

“I thought this was a New Years' Eve party. Isn't it a little early for bridal and baby showers, when the wedding and the baby are both months away?”

“Possibly, but this is the one time before the wedding that we could guarantee all the Catalysts would be together. Besides, it's also their birthdays. It's a combination party, just like Elysian Lodge.”

“...The morning after the party at Elysian Lodge didn't turn out so good,” she points out softly.

“But that's behind us now. Five years behind us. And this is Laguna Beach, not Elysian Lodge. We're not being chased by Arachnid, we're not hunting Catalyst idols, and none of us have missed our birthdays thanks to a time skip. ...We still can't have fireworks, but that's because they're illegal. But we can have a bonfire on the beach.”

“...You always did plan the best parties,” Lila concedes, smiling a little wider. I grin back.

“I am good at parties. And I've been planning this New Year's Eve/double birthday party/baby shower/wedding shower for months. Do you know how much effort goes into maintaining a few surprises when you're planning a party at someone else's beach house?” Finally, she laughs, which is what I was going for. I smile as the traffic starts to inch forward. “You got the shopping list?”

“Of course I do. You know I take every mission you give me very seriously.”

“And that's why we make such a great team.” I hold out my hand for a five, and she almost shyly slaps my palm with hers. “Ahh, finally, we're getting somewhere. Look out, Laguna Beach, it's New Year's Eve!”

* * *

We reach the beach house around one in the afternoon, laden with groceries and presents. Jake and Mike must have been watching for us because they meet us in the driveway, ready to help us carry everything inside.

“Food can go in the kitchen,” Jake informs us, gathering up all the bags he can carry, “presents in the front room under the Christmas tree. Think you brought enough food for everyone, Big Guy?”

“I hope so! With luck, there'll be leftovers, and I can keep up with any sudden cravings your wife has.”

“As long as you brought peanut butter.”

“Oh, not just any peanut butter. Five flavors of gourmet peanut butter. Plus, plenty of ingredients for virgin cocktails.”

Jake whistles. “You really do think of everything. Well, come on inside. Everyone else is in the kitchen.”

Lila

The moment I step inside the beach house, I am overwhelmed by the aura of warmth and good cheer in the air. Laughter rings from the kitchen and the chatter of familiar, friendly voices. Alodia, Diego, and the Vaanti prince. Alodia is visibly pregnant by now. She looks...amazing. Beautiful. Glowing. She looks so happy as she rushes to hug Raj and show him where he can put everything. I slink along behind him, wondering if any of them are going to comment on my presence. Jake and Mike didn't say much to me beyond 'hello,' but Alodia turns her attention on me pretty quickly, moving to embrace me. It doesn't feel...stiff exactly. Her embrace is warm, but it's also...formal in its way. A little shy. But I guess that's okay, because I feel a little shy, too.

“It's good to see you again, Lila,” she says sincerely as she pulls back. “How have you been?”

“Well...better, since I got away from Mr. Rourke. You have a beautiful home, by the way.”

“Oh, thanks. But technically, it's my aunt and uncle's house. They're just letting us live here. And turn one of the bedrooms into a nursery. So...pretty generous. ...Can I get you a drink or anything? Have you had lunch yet?”

Alodia plays an anxious hostess for awhile until Jake, Diego, and Raj practically force her to sit down at the kitchen table with a glass of orange juice and a sandwich. I settle into a role that has become familiar and comforting to me, helping Raj with whatever he needs done in the kitchen. As I dice and mix and whip, I feel myself relaxing. I start to participate in the conversation. I laugh. I joke. I tease, and they tease back. The kitchen fills with delicious smells. The stoves and ovens and the heat of our bodies makes the air swelter, and my cheeks feel fiery hot, but it doesn't bother me. I feel like I could stay blissfully ever after in this kitchen, delighting in the company of friends, sampling delicious foods.

Before I'm ready for it, the doorbell chimes. My blood sizzles with adrenaline. My heart spasms wildly, thumping so hard against my ribs that I when I look down I can see my left breast jumping. Alodia eagerly rushes to the door. I trail after her, afraid of who I'll see, but more afraid of being caught off guard. When I see who she's greeting, the relief that floods through my limbs leaves me feeling weak and shaky.

Sean, Michelle, Grace, and Aleister. Aleister has his son in his arms, and Murphy is curled over Michelle's shoulders. Like Alodia and the others, they greet me with equal parts reservation and warmth. I attempt to make friends with Reginald, but he's shy, and I suppose that's fair. Murphy is the only one who seems to be ready to welcome me back without hesitation. As soon as he shakes off his sleepiness, he leaps into my arms and licks at my face. We drift back into the kitchen, and Jake takes drink requests. Raj makes sure Alodia gets the first cup of his non-alcoholic cider while Michelle pesters her with questions about how she has been feeling and what were the results of all her latest tests. Everything is fine, Alodia assures her. She has ordinary pregnancy discomforts, but she and the baby are both healthy. I can't help but feel a twinge whenever I look at her belly, remembering Mr. Rourke's words, his musing that the baby might be useful to him somehow.

Another chime of the doorbell, and Craig and Zahra appear with a fresh supply of alcohol. I do a quick mental headcount of the Selected. The Catalysts. My old tour group. Alodia. Jake. Diego. Raj. Sean. Michelle. Grace. Aleister. Craig. Zahra. Ten accounted for. Two still to arrive. And one of them is Estela.

It isn't as if she doesn't know I'll be here. I know she was told, and she promised there wouldn't be trouble. Alodia wouldn't have been willing to let me come along with Raj if Estela wasn't willing to put aside any lingering hatred and play nice for the evening. But that doesn't mean I'm not still scared. I haven't spoken directly to Estela since...well, since I died at MASADA. I don't know how this is going to go. I knock back a couple of cocktails, feeling my nerves steady as I work up a pleasant buzz. We migrate into the main rooms, helping Raj lay the food and drinks out buffet-style in the massive dining room. In the main sitting room, Alodia turns on the gas fireplace, even though the temperature outside hasn't been below sixty-five all day. Zahra connects her phone to a speaker and starts up a playlist. Reginald seems to have adjusted to his surroundings somewhat, and plays with his toys on the living room floor, though he still protests when either of his parents move out of his sight.

Somehow, I miss it when the doorbell chimes again. Suddenly, I'm looking up and Jake is handing a drink to Estela while Quinn carefully transfers pastries from a tupperware box to a platter on the buffet. My eyes meet Estela's, and for a moment, everything surrounding us turns fuzzy, and the sounds of conversation are drowned by the blood pounding against my eardrums. Then Diego passes between us on his way somewhere, and the moment is broken. Next thing I know, Estela has plopped down beside me on the couch with a beer in her hand. As I try to avoid her eyes, I realize that everyone is watching us while clearly trying to pretend they aren't. I glance back at Estela as she gulps what has to be half her beer in one go.

“...We should talk privately,” she murmurs.

“If you want to,” I mumble back. “...Should...we just get it over with?”

She rolls her eyes, smirking just a little. “I'm not going to kill you. Promise. But yes. We should make sure the air is clear, or I think we run the risk of killing the mood.” She stands, nodding at me, and I follow her lead.

She leads us down a hall into what appears to be some kind of game room, with tables for chess, ping-pong, and pool. She closes the door behind her.

“It probably won't be too long before we're interrupted, knowing this crowd,” she remarks. She wanders over to the cue stands and pretends to examine the cues, running her finger absently over the smooth laminated wood.

“...If you hadn't already promised not to kill me, I might think you were planning to bludgeon me with one of those,” I quip. I hear a slight tremor in my voice, and try to cover it with a giggle. “...Or run me through. That would be particularly unpleasant.”

“For both of us,” she replies. “I would have to be in a very pure rage to summon the will and the strength to stab you with something blunt like a pool cue.”

“It could be done though.”

She turns toward me just slightly, her scarred eye regarding me thoughtfully. “...Have you ever done it?”

“Killed someone with a pool cue? No. I've never been angry enough. ...But...I think there was a time when you were angry enough at me that you could have done it.”

“Maybe,” she concedes.

“...Why didn't you kill me? In the end?”

She turns away again, and stays quiet for a long moment. “...You were already dying,” she says at last. “...But...more than that...I guess it just struck me that I couldn't really justify it. Killing you would accomplish nothing. It wouldn't bring my mother back. It wouldn't...teach you a lesson. You had turned on Rourke in the end, so I couldn't even pretend I was making the world safer by taking out his hired killer. ...The only reason I could honestly give for why I still wanted to kill you was...my own aggression. My own hurt and anger moving me to hurt someone else. ...I don't even remember exactly what Alodia said in that moment. But what I do remember is feeling like someone had held a mirror up to my face and showed me something ugly. ...If I had killed you in that moment, I would have been something I never wanted to be.”

“I never wanted to be what Mr. Rourke made me, either,” I say softly, unthinking. “I got sucked in, though. Or...he infected me. I'm not even sure how it happened. It was like...I was a frog in a pot of water, and he just kept turning up the heat, but I couldn't feel it until I was already boiling. By the time he was telling me to kill, I was his creature. He told me to kill my best friend, and it never occurred to me that he might be wrong.”

“But...being asked to kill us snapped you out of it?” She sounds...not quite skeptical, but unsure. “I believe you had a fondness for us, but that didn't exactly stop you from killing my mother.  

“It may have been a combination of triggers,” I concede. “I had been told to protect you with my life up until then. Mr. Rourke had promised Aleister he wouldn't harm you. Then he ordered me to kill you. It was enough to throw me off balance. And then when he said that he had technically told the truth because he wasn't going to hurt you, and that's what I was for... Then I saw you on your knees in front of me, and...I woke up. You look so much like your mom, Estela. And...she was so much like a mom to me when I knew her...” My voice breaks. I'm starting to realize that there are tears slipping down my cheeks. “I'm sorry...I'm so sorry, Estela...I don't know if you can ever forgive me...”

Estela turns to look at me. Her expression is heavy with sorrow. “...I don't know either, Lila. I don't know if letting go of the need for revenge is the same thing as forgiveness...but I can at least offer you that much.”

“...Really?”

She smiles wryly. “It's hard to hold onto that vendetta when the person I was supposed to be avenging is alive. ...But even if she didn't come back...even if she didn't come back and you did...after five years of living with everything that happened on that island...” She trails off, sighing. “I just...I have too much going for me now to let the past drag me down. ...My mother wouldn't rest in peace knowing I was spending the rest of my life in prison for murder.”

My lips feel a little dry. I try to wet them with my tongue and find a chapped spot to worry with my teeth for a moment. I knew Olivia was alive, ressurected the way I was. Raj had broken that news to me gently, though I honestly wasn't surprised.

“...Do you think...is there any way I could...talk to Olivia?”

Estela winces. “I...don't think that's in the cards right now.”

“Oh...okay. I understand.”

“For now...why don't you and I work on getting comfortable with each other again? Make that our New Year's resolution?”

I nod eagerly. “Of course. Of course, Estela. I've been given more chances than anyone should have. I don't want to waste this one.”

She puts out her hand, and I shake it. After a moment, we seem to silently agree that it's time to head back to the party. As she opens the door to the game room, Raj, Craig, and Zahra all stumble back from it.

“Were you eavesdropping?” Estela asks, eyes narrow. Raj and Craig blush, looking away guiltily.

“Uh...Diego told us there was a pool table in here,” Raj stammers. “But the door was closed, and...uh...”

Zahra rolls her eyes. “And we saw you two go in here, and we were eavesdropping to make sure no one ruined the party. Now if you two have cleared out the bad air, do you mind letting us in? We actually want to play pool.”

Michelle

Whatever Lila and Estela said to each other, it seems to have cleared the air. The party continues without any hint of the tension that crackled in the air not too long ago. All that's left now is a feeling that all is right with the world. Twelve Catalysts—plus a few cherished friends—are all together. Just as we should be. For the most part, the party seems to be sticking together. When Craig and Zahra head into the game room to play pool, the rest of us migrate in after them. We don't all take our turn playing, but we watch the action and hold conversations above the clacking of pool balls knocking against each other. When pool loses its appeal, we migrate back out to the main sitting room. Raj figures it's time for the combination wedding/baby shower portion of the evening, and forces me and Alodia in a pair of chairs in the middle of the room so we can open presents. Sean and Jake are enlisted to take turns carrying the gifts over to us and read the cards that accompany them. Alodia and I take turns unwrapping gifts at an unhurried pace, giving everyone enough time to “ohh” and “ahh” and “aww” over every onsie, decorative towel set, baby blanket, and embroidered throw pillow. Of course, every time I break a ribbon, someone remarks that I'm destined to have another baby. Grace and Quinn, giddy on Raj's signature cocktails, decide to take it a step further, predicting the sex based on who gave the present the ribbon came from, and assigning names to my hypothetical children. Apparently, courtesy of Raj, Estela, Grace, and Diego, I am destined to have four children named Victor, Susanne, Vera, and Phillip.

“Wow, Michelle, four kids,” Alodia teases. “I can barely believe I'm going to have one.”

“Yeah, that feeling will last awhile,” Grace chuckles. “But at some point, the reality will sink in. And then you'll start thinking about whether you want more.”

“Personally,” Aleister says from where he is sitting on the floor with Reggie and a pile of building blocks, “I would love for Reggie to have a sibling, but I am hoping we wait at least another year before actively trying for a second child.”

“Well, that is the plan,” Grace assures him, but then she grins mischeivously. “But sometimes things happen.”

“I was just realizing,” Quinn says suddenly, “that Grace and Aleister are the first Catalysts to be both married, and to have a baby. I mean, technically, Alodia, Jake, and Diego were the first Catalysts to get married, but Grace and Aleister were the first to get married after the island...”

“It's true,” Alodia concedes. “And you're still the first of all of us to have kids. But given my five year absence from my own marriage, I think Diego and Varyyn definitely hold the title of the oldest Catalyst marriage.”

“Congratulations, darling,” Varyyn quips, winding his arms around Diego from behind and kissing his cheek. Diego laughs, leaning into the embrace.

“It's been an amazing five years.”

“Do you guys ever think about bringing kids into the equation?” Sean asks.

“It is something we had imagined,” Varyyn admits. “But the pair of us raising a child in your world seemed much less likely than it would have been if we had chosen to live in Elyys'tel. Since we obviously cannot conceive one of our own together...”

“Our options were either to get a surrogate or adopt. And both of those seemed dauntingly complicated when we thought about explaining Varyyn's appearance. But...” Diego reaches back to stroke the back of Varyyn's head, “now that you have that disguise, the subject might be worth revisiting.”

“If you guys want a surrogate, I'd be willing,” Alodia declares. “I mean, once I'm recovered from this pregancy, of course. And if Jake were okay with it.”

“I dunno, Princess. I gotta admit that sounds a little weird on the face of it. I wouldn't dismiss it out of hand, though, if it were important to Diego and Varyyn.”

“Well, if we went that route, I think I'd have to provide the...genetic material,” Diego muses. “I'd be paranoid about an outside volunteer giving birth to a blue or green baby. And if Allie were the surrogate, I'd worry about mixing Vaanti DNA with half-human, half-Prism alien.”

“When you put it like that, I can see where it might get weird pretty quick,” Alodia admits. “Being the aunt/bio-mom to a kid whose bio-dad I think of as my brother...”

“Adoption would help you sidestep all that weirdness,” I point out. “It's what Sean and I want to do whenever we're ready for kids.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Well, it's really more like Michelle wants to adopt and I don't have a preference,” Sean clarifies. “Whenever we decide we want kids, it doesn't matter to me how we get them, whether we have our own or adopt.”

“But Michelle, you definitely want to adopt?”

I nod. It's a discussion Sean and I have had more than once. In any other company, I might consider it too personal to share. I don't even plan on telling my mother until after the wedding, when I know she'll ask about the possibility of grandchildren. But I don't think twice about telling the Catalysts. I don't think there's much I would want to keep from them unless it was something I hadn't dealt with myself.

“Either adopt or get a surrogate if we decide we really want our own kids. The long and short of it is that I don't want to be pregnant. I'd love to be a mom some day, but I also still plan on being a neurosurgeon. And I don't want to be worried about pregnancy complicating my progress if my body doesn't react well to it or there are complications.”

“That makes sense,” Alodia concedes. “I might have suggested adoption myself a few years down the line if this one hadn't crept up on me.”

“So, guys...” Diego says suddenly, “I have a very important question. How long has this been going on?”

He points towards Quinn, waving his index finger in a circle, a conspiratorial grin on his lips. I look at Quinn, raising an eyebrow when I realize that she has cozied up to Estela, who seems quite content to have the other woman in her arms. Estela blushes, but she's smiling as she averts her eyes.

“Only about a week.”

Zahra snorts. “Officially maybe.”

“Huh?” Craig frowns. “What are you talking about?”

“Oh, please,” Zahra rolls her eyes. “Those two have been giving off 'vibes' around each other for months. I can't be the only one who noticed.”

The somewhat embarassed silence that ensues seems to confirm that she was in fact the only one to notice. Alodia raises one finger.

“In my defense, I'm on the other side of the country most of the time.”

“Me too,” Diego agrees. “And Jake and Varyyn and Mike.”

“And I spent a lot of time outside the country,” Raj points out. “But whether or not we noticed, it's awesome! You two'll be great together, I'm sure.”

“Well, we certainly hope so.”

Quinn suddenly sits up. “Oh! Raj! The cake! Should we do that now?”

“Right! Cake!” Raj claps his hands. “Michelle, Alodia, the part of the evening where we pamper you two isn't over yet, because Quinn baked birthday cake. Everybody into the kitchen!”

Alodia

I expected Raj to outdo himself with the cooking for this party. I expected Quinn to provide enough cupcakes to feed an army. I knew that Raj intended to make me and Michelle the focus of much of the evening, considering that we're both celebrating birthdays at the same time that she's planning her wedding and I'm twenty-seven weeks pregnant. But somehow, when I see the elegant layer cake that Quinn has prepared, smooth vanilla frosting topped with beautiful sugar roses, I feel tears clogging my throat. I manage to make it through the song and the cutting of the cake without breaking down. But in the chaos of serving that follows, I have to slip outside. I open the sliding door, hoping the chatter in the kitchen covers the soft rushing noise it makes as it glides on its runners, and slip out onto the deck.

The sun has been down for awhile, and the temperature has dropped with it. It's still nothing like the ice age side of La Huerta, or even Hartfeld this time of year. Plus, my current condition has me running hot most of the time, so the cool, salty breeze trailing over my face and tugging at my hair feels quite soothing. I wander down toward the pool. The timed lights under the water have flickered on, as have the lamps that line the pathways. My breath is hitching as I walk the perimeter of the swimming pool, heading toward the flagstone staircase that leads down to the cove. I grip the railing as I navigate the steps carefully.

I know I was already in the picture when my aunt and uncle bought the beach house, because Aunt Molly often joked about how the beach house and I were the same age because it was built the year I was born. Having a second home on the waterfront for entertaining and retreats had always been in their plans, though. They had spared no expense, choosing a brand new house that opened onto the sands of a private cove, with only a handful of neighbors sharing the shore with them.

Several of my neighbors appear to be having parties tonight. Music and laughter drift over the beach from back decks. As it gets closer to midnight, I expect the beach will fill with my neighbors and their guests and their bonfires, but for now, they're sticking inside. As I reach the bottom of the stairs, the party sounds are overpowered by the whisper of the waves breaking on the shore. I sit down to take off my shoes and socks and make my way across the soft, cold sand toward the water. Before I quite realize it, I've stepped onto wet sand, and the cool waves are washing over the tops of my feet. I gasp slightly at the chill, and that dissolves the knot of tears that has crystalized in my throat. I sob, quietly but thoroughly, the spasms coming from deep in my core. It feels almost unbearably wonderful, exciting and terrifying, to cry like this while memories flood my mind like a film montage. They're not memories of my childhood, of time spent in this house or on this beach. I was rarely allowed here, especially before I became a teenager. No, the memories flooding my head are all of my Catalysts. Of all of us together, happy and hopeful. The party at Elysian Lodge. My resolution to hold onto what mattered, to protect the people I loved, to prevent what I thought were their terrible futures that I was seeing every time we touched another amber idol together. Kissing Jake on the roof while the Lights of Vaanu shimmered in the frozen sky overhead. The desperation in his kiss was subtle, but I could taste it as clearly as my own, our fears for ourselves and each other flavoring our passion.

I remember the first party we had together, the first night we were on the island, not yet friends. I remember Raj bringing us together with a feast just a few nights later, and I remember kissing Quinn in the hours before, tasting vanilla frosting on both our mouths.

I remember my wedding day, the warmth of Jake's calloused palm against mine and the softness and pressure of the silk ribbon Seraxa wound around our hands. The way we had gazed at the cliffside from The Dorado while Jake painted pictures in my mind of a quiet little cottage just for the two of us, and the slow realization that I had nothing waiting for me on the other side of the island. That I could not even remember the faces of my family. And just hours later, the truth that Vaanu revealed to me...the way my heart had screamed in rebellion, desperately seeking a way to get back what was lost, the temptation to either give the world to Rourke or let it burn...the sinking resignation as I realized what I had to do...

“Alodia!” I turn to see Jake jogging across the sand to reach me. He stops in front of me, frowning, his brow knitting with concern. One hand cups my cheek, flushed hot with the effort of crying, while the other rests on my shoulder. “Hey...you okay?”

I cover his hand with mine, nodding. His thumb trails over the bony ridge beneath my eye, dabbing gently at my tears. I lean forward, letting my arms encircle him as I bury my face in his chest. He embraces me, stroking my hair and kissing the top of my head.

“Is it hormones again?”

“Probably,” I sniff. “...Do you think we'll ever have a normal marriage?”

“What do you mean a 'normal' marriage?”

“You know...like Diego and Varyyn have. Or Grace and Aleister.”

“...Varyyn is a hyper-evolved human with blue skin, and until a week ago, he and Diego couldn't consider things like adoption or anything that would put them under any real scrutiny for fear of what would happen if they started questioning Varyyn's appearance.”

“...Like Grace and Aleister, then.”

“I'd argue that they don't exactly have a 'normal' marriage, either. But then...I'm still not sure what you're thinking of when you say 'normal'.”

I sigh. “...I don't know.” I turn in his embrace so that I am looking at the sea as I lean against his chest. “We got married at Niala'rei. On that day, we committed to each other for a year and a day, and eternity if we were still in love after that. ...But I was gone by the next day.”

His arms tighten around my shoulders. “You're here now.”

“Yeah, but...what would the Vaanti say about our situation? Do we have to spend another year and a day living together before our souls are officially joined? Does it count that we're still in love after five years if we haven't spent all that time in each other's presence?”

“Does it matter what the Vaanti would say?”

I'm not sure why, but his question catches me off-guard. “Well...I...” I trail off, frowning. There's only one honest answer I can give. “...Yes. ...Sort of...”

“Why?” His tone is gentle, curious without being accusing or judgmental. I am quiet for a long moment, considering. Why exactly does it matter to me whether the Vaanti believe my soul is tied to Jake's already or if they would tell me that I needed to pass a year and a day by his side first?

“...I guess...maybe a part of me still believes in their power. In the power of their gods and guardians...in the power of a creature called the Endless who isn't me...” I close my eyes, pressing close to my husband. Feeling secure in his arms, I let the words flow out of me. “...A part of me is still scared. Still looking for guidance. ...When I came face-to-face with Vaanu and I learned the truth about what I was...that was the scariest thing I'd ever gone through. When I had to make that choice...it wasn't just that there wasn't a perfect option. It wasn't just that there wasn't a future where I saved the world and lived in it, too. ...The really scary part was that it was all down to me. It's like...when people say that everyone dies alone. You can die surrounded by your loved ones, but in the end, you have to take that last step alone. I was born from all of your need, your hopes, your fears. We had gone through that nightmare together, but in the end, I was the only one who could decide how it all ended. Even with all the guidance and encouragement and love that surrounded me, I was the only one who could take that final step.

“All that time, I had counted on all of you. I had trusted in the island's power, the Endless, the Vaanti, Vaanu to guide me on the right path. Even Rourke guided me sometimes, if only by showing me where I shouldn't lead us. But in the end, the power was mine. It was all in my hands. ...And I ended up losing you.”

His arms are tight around my shoulders. He presses a kiss to my cheek. “I'm right here, Princess. We're together now.”

“I know...it's just...I'm scared, you know? I'm always scared that we'll lose each other again.”

“So am I,” he admits. “...I don't know if there's a way to stop being scared of that.”

“...Maybe a part of me believes that if we can fulfil our handfasting vow...if we can be together for a year and a day and by Vaanti tradition, have our souls bound together forever... If we had faced Project Janus after being together for a year and a day, a part of me wants to believe that Vaanu couldn't have ever taken me back. That he couldn't have taken me back because our bond wouldn't have allowed me to rejoin him.”

It's Jake's turn to be silent and thoughtful. His hands trail down my arms to wrap gently around my swollen belly.

“...I don't know if that would have been true,” he says at last. “We're not immortal, Alodia. Someday, I'll die. Someday, you'll die, too. And someday, a long time after that, our baby—this little baby girl that ain't born yet? She'll die, too. ...Even the Vaanti die eventually. Even fasted Vaanti who have lived with their partners for a year and a day have to give up the ghost some day. A lot of them end up leaving their partners alone for awhile. ...Even if there is any magic to the 'year and a day' tradition, it won't stop nature taking its course. Not sure if it could have stopped you from giving yourself back to Vaanu, either. And I ain't sure I would have wanted it too. ...It tore me apart to give you up, Alodia. But the choice was yours to make. I'm your partner, not your master. I don't ever want to be a chain that keeps you from doing what you believe is right.”

“...I love you, Jake.” There's not much else I can say to that.

“I love you, too, Alodia. I don't need to wait a year and a day to know that I'm bound to you forever. I knew it long before that ribbon was wrapped around our hands.”

“...So did I,” I confess. “...I fell in love with you over two-thousand times, Jake McKenzie. I carried all those memories somewhere in my mind all through that last timeline. ...I'm yours. Now and forever.”

“Sometimes I wonder if you really know how adored you are. How much every person in that house up there loves you.”

“...If it's half as much as I love them, then I am the luckiest person on earth.”

I exhale slowly, my breath shaking as the last of my tears dry up, leaving something still and quiet at my center. The steady rolling and breaking of the waves over the shore is almost hypnotic. Since the dawn of humanity, how many have stood on this very shore under the moonlight and watched the waves roll in and out? What ancient creatures' bones lie fossilized millions of miles under my feet? Who were the first human beings to reach this cove?

In the back of my mind, I hold an image of a woman my own age, also with child, standing on this shore and watching the waves with her lover at her back. Perhaps an American settler from the east, whose husband planted eucalyptus trees. ...Or a Mexican woman in the last days of the war.  ...Was she aware of the war? Did she worry about it? Did her husband fight? Did it matter to her whether her child was born in a territory that belonged to Mexico or to America?

...Her ancestors are varied. Somewhere in her DNA is a Spanish woman who found love with an indigenous man. Further back was a woman who had secretly loved a Spanish soldier. But before her was one who had been called a savage by the Spanish soldier who marched into her village with the others and laid his hands on her as if he owned her. I can see his face, a face that might be handsome if it were not twisted with perverse pleasure...I can feel his hands...grabbing...tearing...

“...No...”

“No?”

Jake's voice makes me gasp as an electric spasm shoots down my spine. I pull myself from the arms encircling me, whipping around to face my husband. He pulls his hands back, holding them up and open as if to demostrate that he's unarmed. I feel a hot flush creep up my neck as I realize that he is looking at me with a mix of concern and confusion. I put a hand to my chest, trying to take slow breaths so that my rapid pulse will steady. He'll worry if I don't attempt to explain my sudden anxiety. I briefly consider making something up, but I did promise not to hide things from him like I did on the island.

“...I'm...I'm all right,” I assure him. “Just...something kind of weird happened just now...”

“Yeah?” He cautiously reaches out to stroke my shoulder, giving me time and room to retreat if I want to. I don't. I step closer to him.

“I was just daydreaming. Imagining all the people who might have stood on this beach throughout human history...and...I don't know if I just imagined too deeply or what, but...I started to feel like I was actually...seeing them. Feeling them...”

“...What did you see? Or feel?”

“...A Native American woman. Spanish soldiers came to her village...they...”

Jake winces, drawing me gently into his arms and cradling my head on his shoulder. “I can guess,” he says grimly. “Fucking bastards...”

I sigh. “History is full of conquests, and all of those conquests come with bastards drunk on their own power claiming the conquered women as spoils.”

“Yeah, I know. I saw bastards like that on both sides when I was in the Navy. But...shit, Alodia...were you...experiencing that just now?”

“Not...fully.”

“Even a little is too much for my liking.” He gently cups my face in his hands and kisses my forehead.

“I'm okay,” I assure him again. He pulls back slightly, examining my face in the light from the moon and the houses that line the cove.

“You sure?”

“Yeah. I mean, it was scary in the moment. But now, I'm more wondering why it happened like that. I mean, why I saw and felt it.” I feel my brow knitting. “...When we encountered the Endless in the cave on La Huerta, and I asked for proof that we could trust her, she listed facts about us all. And she said that wherever I am, if I stand still long enough I start to imagine all the people who have stood on that ground before me. ...That's been true for as long as I can remember. For as many timelines as I can remember. I never felt...taken in like this before.”

“You think it might have something to do with the prism half of your DNA?”

Something in either his question or the way he asks it calms me considerably. I meet his eyes, and in the depths of our shared soul, I know that he not only accepts the non-human half of me, but he embraces it. He loves it as a part of me, even knowing that it may yet reveal new ways to complicate my existence and his.

“Most likely,” I concede. “The Endless did say that I probably have powers that haven't manifested yet.”

“Well...hopefully it's something you can learn to control so you aren't just experiencing horrible things whenever your power feels like it.”

“Hopefully,” I echo. “...I think I'm ready to go back to the party now.”

“Glad to hear it.” Jake brushes my mouth with his. “You are one of the guests of honor, after all. Let's get you back to your adoring fans.”

Zahra

I guess Alodia had an attack of hormones or something because she disappeared for awhile after the cake was cut. She came back tucked under Jake's arm, her eyes tellingly puffy, but no one pressed her on it. I lost track of her for awhile after that, wandering back into the game room with Craig and Raj. Murphy follows us, jumping up to perch on the edge of the pool table and swat at the balls as they roll past him.

I get the fucking pants thrashed off me first couple games we shoot.

“Too many cocktails,” I mutter, even though my last drink was an hour ago. “Can't shoot straight.”

“Only thing to do is have a couple more!” Craig declares. “Wanna head back out to the party?”

“I'm game for it,” Raj agrees, and Murphy yips, which sounds like he's game, too. I shrug.

“Yeah, sure.”

Of course, Craig notices right away that something's up. And of course he figures out right away what it is.

“Hey, Z...are you planning on giving Alodia the...you know, the thing tonight?”

“What thing?” Raj asks.

I sigh. “Well, you might as well know. Grace's mom found some stuff out on Alodia's mom. I've been doing some digging, and I brought it along to show her.”

Raj frowns. “Is it bad?”

“No. I mean, not obviously. She worked for Mansingh Transglobal as a researcher and developer. She was a computer science major, and worked on some pretty cutting edge programming. Most prominently, some of the most advanced digital drawing/rendering programs of the early nineties. There's just some stuff that's...weird. Like the fact that her maiden name was Sullivan. Or the fact that with that advanced digital rendering, she managed to draw a chillingly realistic picture of the woman her daughter would grow up into, in spite of the fact that it was painted while Alodia was still a fetus.”

“That does sound kinda weird,” Raj agrees. “But her husband was Vaanu, remember. And if she was a descendant of La Huerta's Sullivans, she may have been exposed to the Island's Heart—or inherited exposure from her ancestors. It does make sense that Vaanu might choose a proto-Vaanti to be Alodia's mother.”

“Yeah, that's what I'm thinking, too. But then there's also the matter of the Trojan Project.”

“What's that?”

“Something Cassandra Chandler was working on before she died. I've been looking into it. It's not easy to find information on it. At all. But I've been able to uncover enough to make me think it wasn't related to computers.”

“So...what was it related to?”

I meet his eyes. “Something that would make a lot of sense for the mother of the Endless to be looking into. ...Time travel.”

Estela

I help Grace and Aleister put Reggie down around eight o'clock. He's set to spend the night in the room that will be River McKenzie's in a matter of months. It is a room in progress, to be sure. A wallpaper mural of jungle flora and fauna is spread over the walls, and soft green carpet covers the floor, but most of the furniture hasn't arrived yet, so Grace and Aleister have brought along a travel crib. An air mattress has been set up and made up on the floor as well, so that Grace and Aleister can sleep in the same room. This beach house was built for entertaining and has a number of guest rooms, but there is still going to be doubling by necessity, and a few will have to camp out on the convertible sofas.

In the bathroom attached to the nursery, Aleister fills the tub with a few inches of warm water while Grace and I carefully undress him. Reggie clearly knows what's coming and does his best to help us undress him, straining eagerly toward his father and the bathtub. I laugh.

“You like bathtime, mi conejito? That's good. Makes things easier for Mommy and Daddy, doesn't it?”

“Unless we're trying to get his clothes off,” Grace chuckles as she finally tugs off the last sock.

“All right, my clever boy,” Aleister says, scooping up his son and lifting him into the tub. “Let's get you into the nice warm water.”

Reggie happily plops down in the water and immediately begins slapping the surface with his chubby little hands, and kicking his feet to feel the current swirl around his legs. While Aleister bathes him gently, Grace and I ask him questions. He can't say more than a handful of words right now, but he can point to people, objects, and parts of his own body.

“Where is your foot, Reggie?” we ask him. “Where is Daddy? Where is Tia Estela?”

Grace suddenly smiles, looking up past me and Aleister. “Who is that coming into the bathroom?” We turn to look, and find Alodia hovering shyly in the doorway, Jake standing beside her with his hands on her shoulders.

“...Sorry, are we intruding? The door was open...”

“Not at all,” Aleister assures them. “It's your home.”

“Still, I'm guessing you don't want everyone crowding around your son during his bath,” Jake remarks, even as he and Alodia slip into the bathroom. “Don't want to freak the kid out.”

“Reggie,” Aleister begins, and Reggie quickly turns to look up at his father. “Your Auntie Alodia and Uncle Jake are going to talk to Mummy and Daddy while you have your bath. Is that all right?”

I don't know if Reggie actually understood any part of that question, but he smiles at Aleister and cooes as he holds up a toy boat, so we take it to mean he isn't distressed.

“ 'Auntie and Uncle',” Alodia echoes. “Is that what we are?”

“It seems fitting,” Aleister says. “And it is hardly an uncommon term of respectful endearment to a close friend of one's parents.”

“When I was growing up, all close friends of my folks were Auntie and Uncle,” Jake says. “It was just considered respectful where I'm from.”

“It was the same for me with friends of my dad,” Grace agrees. “Mom's friends and associates were whatever they preferred to be called. Sometimes that was 'Ms. Jones ' or 'Mr. Smith,' but some let me use their first names.”

“That's how it was with any friends of my aunt and uncle,” Alodia remarks. “When it came to Diego's family and neighbors, I just used the words he used. There were plenty of tios and tias, and his parents were Mama and Papa, and I was mija to everyone...”

She lowers the lid of the toilet and sits down carefully. Jake leans against the sink.

“How's the room?” he asks. “Adequate for the night?”

“Oh, it's just fine, thank you.”

“I love the wallpaper,” Grace adds. “And the carpet is so soft.”

“I had kinda hoped the crib would be here in time for tonight, but the one we really wanted ended up being backordered. Hopefully it gets here in time for River.”

“You've still got plenty of time,” I say, absently trailing my fingers through the bath water.

“The time will pass more quickly than you think it will,” Aleister warns. “I remember when Reggie was born, it felt like no time at all between that moment and Grace telling me that she was pregnant.”

I snort. “Says the one who didn't have to carry the child for nine months.”

Grace laughs. “You might be surprised to hear that it passed quickly for me, too. At least, there were moments when I looked at the calendar and could hardly believe how close I was to my due date.”

“I'm not sure how things are going to look in hindsight once she's born,” Alodia muses, caressing her stomach. “Right now, there's a lot that sucks about being pregnant, and a lot that's wonderful. But I'm mostly eager to meet River. To hold her and rock her and give her baths...”

Aleister sighs wistfully. “Once she is born, the time will start to pass even faster.”

“That, I can definitely agree with,” Grace says, a bittersweet smile on her lips. “I can hardly believe this boy is almost a year old...”

A silence descends over us, heavy with shared sentiment. It's not hard to guess what we're all thinking about. There is joy in the anticipation of Reginald's first birthday and Alodia and Jake's first child. There is joy in seeing Reginald grow and sweet sadness in saying goodbye to his baby days. And of course, the twelve of us—plus Lila and Varyyn, I imagine—can't help but remember the last time we were all together on New Year's Eve.

It seems to me that we were all so young then. The thought makes me feel ridiculous, given that I'm not even thirty yet, but the change between who I was then and who I am now—who all of us were then and now—is almost startling to think of. I think of myself, and of my brother, how we were both bitter, angry, and lonely; motherless children abandoned and betrayed by the father we didn't even know we shared. Really, all of us were misfits, somehow out of place in the world we had come from. Even Alodia, even before the timelines repaired themselves to give her a past and a home. She was the Mystery, the one who seemed linked to the island in ways the rest of us couldn't fathom. Even before the discovery of the Island's Heart, she was the one who could understand the Vaanti. The one who the Guardians were drawn to—and the only one who could get through to Quinn when Vaanu took her over. None of us fit with the world. But we fit with each other.

We've grown since then. We've changed. We've moved on with our lives. But we haven't forgotten each other. Distance has not weakened this family. If anything, our bonds are stronger than ever. They stayed strong enough over five years to bring Alodia back to us. I hope and pray that twelve will remain as one until the last of us is laid in a grave.

“...Estela?” Aleister's voice brings me back to reality.

“Sorry, what?”

He nods over my shoulder. “Could you pass me the towel?”

I turn and find the soft yellow terrycloth hanging behind my head, draped on the rack on the wall. I tug it down and pass it to Aleister.

“Right. Sorry. Lost myself in thought for a moment.”

“What were you thinking?” Alodia asks as Aleister wraps his son in the towel and lifts him from the bath. I lean back against the wall, feeling a smile playing around my mouth.

“That it's fitting we should all be here together for New Year's Eve. And that I plan to toast to many more to come.”

* * *

When Reggie has drifted off and Grace has set up the baby monitor, we rejoin the party. At some point, Alodia dozes off on the couch, cuddled up with Jake, but she comes awake again close to eleven, when we start migrating toward the beach. With many of Alodia's neighbors having the same idea, Varyyn opts to put on his holographic disguise. Though we were all told of Dax's gift, this is the first time I've seen it demonstrated. It's more than a little strange to see Diego cozying up to someone who looks so different from the Varyyn we know, and even stranger to hear Varyyn's voice and speech patterns coming from this stranger's lips. But I suppose it's something we'll get used to.

On the beach, we build a bonfire in a portable fire pit. We might have just assembled one from scratch like we would have on the island, but I don't think we could get the materials to do so without risking stealing someone else's plantlife. It's turned cool since the sun has set, so we pull our lawn chairs into as tight a circle as we can make around the firepit and wrap ourselves up in blankets. Quinn and I lie side-by-side on a chair, a blanket draped over our legs.

“So what are everyone's resolutions this year?” Quinn asks.

“Oh, yeah!” Raj's face lights up. “We should go around the circle and say what our resolutions are!”

Diego mock-groans. “Oh, come on, do we have to be so orderly about it?”

“Yes!” Raj replies firmly. “That way everyone is sure to get their turn.”

“Come on, Raj! That's like those lame families at Thanksgiving who go around their tables announcing what they're thankful for!” Zahra whines.

“Hey, you did exactly that with my family a couple months ago,” Craig points out.

“And it was lame. I just didn't say anything out of politeness.”

“Well, you can follow your own example tonight, too,” Raj retorts cheerfully. “Quinn, why don't you start us off, since you asked the question?”

“Well, okay.” Quinn sits up a little in my arms. “I resolve...to start learning a new skill. Like a musical instrument or knitting or something. Estela?”

“Hmm. I suppose...I resolve to cherish my circumstances. I was once prepared to throw away my freedom for something that I know now would have only left me hollow. So I am resolving to be grateful for my freedom and any opportunity to make real change.”

“Which, as a CEO of Rourke International, you have plenty of opportunity to do,” Aleister points out. “And with that in mind, I think I will resolve focus more of our resources on clean energy. Silas Prescott's 'clean energy' cover story for the Prism Gate may have been tripe, but it has gotten me thinking lately.”

“I'll resolve to make more of an effort to stay in contact with my dad,” Grace says. “He deserves to see more of his grandson.”

“I resolve to get more sleep,” Michelle announces, and is met with approving chuckles.

“And to help you with that resolution,” Sean adds, “I resolve to help you out more, especially with the wedding plans. Any task you need done, throw it my way and I will complete it to the best of my ability.”

“Welp, I'm gonna be completely predictable and resolve to get some more exercise,” Craig says, grinning. “Not saying I'm gonna in the kinda shape I was at Hartfeld, but Cheese Friday has gotten me a little mushy.”

“I like you mushy,” Zahra says firmly. “But I guess I like you healthy, too. So, I resolve to help you with your resolution by being your personal trainer and driving you mercilessly.”

Craig groans. “I think I'm regretting this already.”

By now we've circled around to Raj. “Okay, well. I'm resolving to be a little bit more organized. Take a little more responsibility for not just planning my shows, but paying a little more attention to logistics.”

He nods at Lila, who turns her gaze on the flames. “I resolve to let go of who I was before. To let go of Mr. Rourke and what I was to him. That isn't me anymore.”

Raj puts a hand on her shoulder. “Here, here.”

Lila smiles somewhat timidly before turning to the person beside her. “Jake? Your turn.”

“Me? Jesus, I dunno. Few more months, I'm gonna be someone's dad. Hard to think about anything beyond that. But I guess I resolve to get the nursery finished by then.”

“Which should be easy since Molly and Rob insist on letting professionals do most of it,” Diego snickers.

“Hey, if that crew is willing to come back after the way Jake was bossing them around over the wall and floors, I'll be impressed,” Alodia quips. Jake slings an arm over her shoulders, kissing her temple.

“That was my brilliant plan all along, Princess. So what's your resolution?”

“...Basically the same one I made last New Year's I experienced. I'm going to hold onto what matters. Stay in the moment and not worry about the past. Protect what I love. And...maybe look into finishing my degree, if motherhood permits me the time.”

Diego sighs. “So, am I seriously the one who's going to have the responsibility of throwing out the joke resolution? You guys are gonna make me be the one who resolves to eat more ice cream or something like that?”

“Hey!” Zahra yelps. “I'm the one who resolved to be Craig's personal trainer!”

“How is that a joke resolution?”

“Uh, because he played football, and if you haven't noticed, I have skinny T-rex arms?”

“Legs and ass, though,” Craig drawls, waggling his eyebrows. “Mmm-mm.”

“Craig, we all know your girlfriend's a snack. You can stop bragging about it.”

“Says my very gay best friend,” Alodia quips.

“Yeah, I'm gay, not blind. I'm just saying that if I had to pick a woman--”

“Thank you, Diego,” Zahra interrupts, smirking. “I'm flattered. I wouldn't kick you out of bed, either.”

“As...confusingly sweet as this little flirtation is, both of your men are sitting right here, and you should probably knock it off.”

“Yes, please do. Or I shall have to remind you who your fasted partner is.”

The dark-skinned man beside Diego pulls him playfully onto his lap. For a moment, I'm alarmed, thinking that a stranger has crept into our circle, until I remember Varyyn's disguise. Varyyn holds Diego against him, planting kisses on the back of his neck.

“Does this help improve your memory?” he asks between kisses.

“Mmm...it's getting there. I can almost remember now...”

“Okay, you two, save some of that for midnight. Varyyn, do you have a resolution for us?”

“Well...I suppose now that I can walk through the world a bit more openly, I suppose I would like to experience new things. Things I have hesitated to try for fear that I would be seen and questioned.”

“I can probably help you with some of that,” Mike remarks. “I'm planning on getting myself a little more settled in the area. Get a permanent job, possibly an apartment...try to put myself a little bit back in the world, more than I have been since I got back to the States.”

Jake reaches over to put a hand on Mike's shoulder. “...You know you're welcome here indefinitely. You're a big help, and every extra set of hands is gonna be a blessing once River's born.”

“I know. And I'm happy to help out however I can. ...But I also wanna get my own two feet back under me. ...Metaphorically speaking,” he adds ruefully, flexing one bionic foot.

“I can't say I don't get that,” Jake concedes. “And I'll fully support you. ...But you are welcome to stay with us as long as it takes.”

“Agreed,” Alodia adds. “It's a big place. It's your home until you're ready to move out.”

“Thanks. ...I feel like I should toast to that.”

“Oh! Good thinking, Mike!” Raj opens the cooler beside him, pulling out a bottle of champagne and a bag of plastic champagne flutes. “It's getting near enough to midnight to break out the bubbly. And don't worry, Alodia, I've got sparkling grape juice for you.”

“I wasn't worried. You've kept me well-stocked on mocktails this whole evening.”

“I live to serve!” Raj pops the cork and fills the glasses, passing them around the circle. When everyone has a glass, he raises his. “Here's to a New Year. Here's to Michelle and Alodia as they celebrate their twenty-eighth birthdays. Here's to Michelle and Sean as they prepare for their wedding, and here's to Alodia and Jake as they prepare to welcome the newest addition to our family. Here's to Reggie, who is almost a year old. We love you, little dude. ...Anyone have anything to add?”

“Here's to having Allie back with us,” Diego says.

“Here's to this family,” Alodia adds. “All of you mean everything to me, and I can't believe how lucky I am to have you.”

Beside me, Quinn raises her glass. “Here's to love. Eros, storge, philia, and agape.”

We raise our glasses, tapping them against the ones beside us before taking a sip. Around the other bonfires on the beach, the neighbors have begun to shift, gathering together in anticipation of the countdown.

“Two minutes until midnight, everyone!”

Couples begin pairing off, ready to ring in the new year with a kiss. I stand, carefully pulling Quinn up with me. She stumbles a little, leaning heavily on me. She grins sheepishly up at me.

“Maybe I've had one too many cocktails...”

I grin back. Jesus, she's adorable. “We'll have time enough for you to sleep it off.”

“Mm...but I hope I don't fall asleep too quickly.” She winds her arms around my neck, standing on her toes to whisper in my ear, “I've got a few ideas on how to properly ring in the new year.”

“You remember we're sharing a guest room with Craig and Zahra, right?”

“It's a big house. We can find a place to disappear.”

“Thirty seconds until midnight!” Craig calls before I can answer.

In twenty seconds, the whole cove rings out with the sound of the massive gathering counting the last ten seconds until midnight. I join in, finding myself swept up in the festive mood. As the last count dissolves into cheers and applause, I bend toward the woman in my arms and press my mouth to hers. She parts her lips to receive me, tasting me hungrily. I feel my cheeks growing warm as my belly flutters with anticipation. It isn't enough to feel her in my arms, or to trace the inside of her mouth with my tongue. I reluctantly withdraw my tongue from her mouth, though I keep my lips close.

“...Where did you have in mind for us to disappear to?”

* * *

Locked in one of the beach house's luxurious bathrooms, Quinn and I lie naked and spent in the empty whirlpool bath, our sweat-slick bodies leaving impressions on the acrylic. I'm still trembling with the exertion of my last climax, feeling heady and languid as I sink into the afterglow with Quinn panting in my arms. I can still distantly hear voices elsewhere in the house, traveling through the vents to reach the bathroom. Gradually, Quinn's breathing slows and she lays her head on my chest.

“That was...incredible,” she murmurs around a yawn.

“Very,” I agree, stroking her copper hair, damp and tangled with sweat. “You are very...skilled.”

“So are you.”

“That is generous of you, but I know I am not. I was a virgin until about three years ago. I hadn't even had my first kiss until then. ...Before you, I'd had only two partners, both of them men.”

“Then you have good instincts. Or...perhaps you have experience enough with your own body to guess what might feel good on mine?”

“I suppose that could be it,” I concede. “The first man I slept with was very experienced. Very generous, too. A considerate lover. I learned a great deal about my body from him, and I suppose it's fair to say he awakened my appetites. Even after we were no longer seeing each other, I found I had learned to enjoy exploring my own body.”

“Sounds like a good way to lose your virginity.”

“It was. I'm grateful that my first time was with an attentive partner, even if the relationship didn't last.”

“My first time was probably much less pleasant. It was all consensual, but we were both virgins, and neither of us knew what we were doing.”

“What sort of...equipment was your partner sporting?”

“Outdoor plumbing,” she giggles. “A man. Well...I use the term loosely. It was freshman year at Hartfeld, and we were both barely legal previously sheltered kids drunk on the freedom of college. ...I spent a lot of nights in other people's beds that semester. Hooking up with every attractive person who was willing. But, that meant I learned a lot about sex, too.”

I chuckle. “You know, anyone who didn't know you better would never guess you were the type to have a series of one-night stands. They would think you were too sweet and innocent for that type of behavior.”

“But you know better?”

“I and all the other Catalysts certainly. We know that a sweet disposition doesn't preclude a sexual appetite. ...And it seems natural to me that in your circumstances, you would have had a lot of wild oats to sow, as the saying goes.”

“And you're a natural warrior. But that doesn't preclude a lack of sexual experience. It makes sense to me that you would have focused everything on your mission to the point of ignoring romance or even just sex because it wasn't a priority.”

“But lately, I find myself craving it. Especially with you.” I kiss the top of her head. “...Quinn? What would you like us to be to each other?”

“Well...girlfriends, for now. …That is what we are, right?”

“Well, I hope so. But...I was thinking of in the future. We've known each other for a long time. We've been friends for a long time. I've always loved you as my friend and fellow Catalyst. I always will. But...as my girlfriend, that's...”

“...It's a new dynamic. One that might take some getting used to. ...We'll see where this goes, Estela. I love you, too. I always have. ...I think I could love you as my girlfriend, too. And...maybe someday, as my wife? As a mother to my children?”

I nod, a smile on my lips. “Yes. Yes, that's what I'm hoping for, too. ...I am hoping that this is the relationship that lasts the rest of my life. ...I want to marry. I want to have a family. ...I hope that further down the line, you and I decide we want to have that together.”

“I agree that would be the ideal outcome.” Quinn sighs happily, yawning again. “...Mmm...I think I could just sleep here.”

I laugh. “We'll wake up freezing an hour from now if we don't at least put some clothes on. Besides, I really think a bed would be more comfortable.”

“We smell like sex. Craig and Zahra will know what we've been up to.”

“Do you think they haven't been up to it themselves? Even if they haven't, I'm not ashamed of having sex with my girlfriend.”

“Me neither. But maybe it's not polite to make our friends smell it.”

“Hmm, perhaps not. ...But I have an answer to that, I think. After all...we are in a bathtub.”

When we can finally summon the energy, we stop up the tub and turn on the water, filling it up to our chests. We turn on the jets and let the water massage our tired muscles as we tenderly bathe each other. The hot water saps the last of my energy, and clearly Quinn feels the same. We lean heavily on each other as we stumble to the guest room, wrapped in soft towels, water dripping off the ends of our hair. We'll clean up our mess in the bathroom in the morning, I decide.

Craig and Zahra haven't come to bed yet, so we turn on the light as we paw through our overnight bags for sleep clothes and toothbrushes. We throw on our pajamas, hastily brush our teeth, and stumble into one of the two double beds in the guest room. I just barely manage to kiss Quinn goodnight and draw her into my arms before I've fallen into a deep, exhausted sleep.

* * *

We're having an earthquake. That's the next thought I am aware of as I am forced out back to wakefulness by a vigorous vibration. As my roaming consciousness is unceremoniously dumped back into my brain, my waking body struggles to make sense of my surroundings. My hand fumbles for Quinn and finds her still curled against my body. I realize there is a hand on my shoulder. That's where the shaking is coming from. And there is a person speaking.

“Estela!” My brother's voice is a whisper, but there's an urgency in it that turns the sound harsh. “Estela, wake up!”

“...Aleister?” I roll over, rubbing my eyes. Quinn stirs beside me, and past Aleister, I can see Zahra tucked in the other bed, lifting her head off the pillow. I can faintly hear Craig snoring beside her.  I try to look at the digital clock on the nightstand between the beds, but the room is still dark, and my eyes seem disinclined to focus. “...What time is it?”

“It's a little after five in the morning. But I'm afraid this can't wait.”

There's something in his voice that makes my stomach go hot and then cold before settling into a hard lump. In an instant, I am awake. I meet his eyes in the dim light of the moon that comes through the window, and nod toward the door that leads to the hall. As he gets off the bed, Quinn sleepily mumbles my name.

“Shhh. Go back to sleep, mi sirenita. I'll be right back.”

“Mmmokay...” Quinn yawns and rolls over again, her breathing deep and even within seconds. I'm not sure she was ever fully awake. I follow Aleister out into the hall.

“...What's wrong?”

“Estela, I just got a call from the mental institution in Northbridge. ...They said that...they found Father dead in his room this morning.”

[aboysbestfriendishismum]

Chapter 51 - Elvis, the beard and Schroedinger’s kisses (Part One)

In the previoius chapter: Dina, Angie's best friend, goes to San Diego to meet her and it takes her a few hours with her and Eddie to figure out there's something between them. She tries to make her admit it when they're alone and she almost succeeds. She meets Jerry too and is surprised about how nonchalant Angie is with him despite all the bad things he did to her. At the beach party, Dina has further proof about the attraction between the two when she hears them talking on the shore, while the others left skinny dipping in the ocean. The next morning Angie has to leave to Seattle, Eddie can't believe he wasted that opportunity and didn't do anything although he had two whole days to act out his feelings. He almost kisses Angie as she sleeps but he realizes it's weird and stops. As he takes her to the bus station they have a little verbal fight when Angie jokingly tells him he needs a girlfriend and that his friend Michelle would be perfect. Exasperated by Angie's blindness towards his feelings, Eddie shuts her up with a kiss. In the meantime Angie dreams about Eddie the night before leaving and in her dream Eddie kisses her. When the kiss happens for real at the bus station, Angie loses her mind and hears the infamous "music": Just can't get enough by Depeche Mode. 

***

“I’m in love again, been like this before…” maybe I shouldn’t have put that one on the tape, too blunt. Well… I just shoved my tongue in her mouth, so I’m pretty sure that it’s impossible to be any blunter than that. Just… It’s been hours and I can only assume that the stupid grin that’s plastered on my face ever since I said goodbye to Angie is still there. I look up and see myself in the mirror, humming like a poor fool. I assumed correctly, fuck. I keep on repeating in my mind all the steps of our conversation from the moment she woke up that lead to us kissing and… and stop, that’s all I can do while I throw my things in the suitcase, ready to hit the road and leave this house again, this time with a heavy heart. Yes, because whereas before my house was just some sort of depiction of my frustrations, of my loneliness and everything I hadn’t been able to be and obtain, even though I had always wanted it, now it has an added value: the memories, pleasant moments that I’ve built with the girl I love, the turn of events that has led me to declare my feelings, albeit not with words. There had been many opportunities to do that before: in each other’s arms on the sofa, in front of a bonfire at the beach, on the terrace of Pike Place Market, on top of the Space Needle, on that bench of Balboa Park, even the other night on the dancefloor, and all of those situations were certainly more romantic and appropriate; but, even so, I wouldn’t change anything about those stolen kisses at the bus station. But it must also be said that, had I made a move before, I wouldn’t have to wait a week for the second round. This morning, for a second, I thought about not letting her get on that fuckin’ bus and taking her back here at home, but Angie's got university, work and I’m not going to get between her and all the responsibilities she cares so much about. Besides I didn’t want to look like a sentimental ass. Not yet.

Somebody knocks at the door. I zip my bag, pull it over my shoulder, take one last look around – trying to memorize as much detail as possible – and then go out.

“You’re all set?” Mike flinches a little, maybe taken aback by my quick exit.

“He’s all set” Jeff, by his side, answers for me.

“I can confirm it, I’m ready to go!”

“And he’s happy too” adds the guitarist.

“Yeah” Ament nods.

“Why are you happy?” Stone appears on the stairs.

“Lemme guess: Angie didn’t leave!” McCready ventures a comment.

“She's comeing to Oakland with us!” adds my roommate.

“She follows us for the rest of the tour!”

"God, I hope she doesn't!" Stone gives Mike a nasty look then wickedly smiles at me "Somebody else thinks differently though, right?"

"The fuck are you talking about? What's with Angie?" I try and play dumb but I bet that if I still had my bedroom's mirror in front of me right now I'd see the same fuckin' smile. So I think I'm failing miserably.

"Where is she?"

"I don't really know exactly, at 7 o'clock in the morning I put her on a bus to Seattle, so I guess she's still there. Well technically it was a but to Los Angeles, then from there she had to take another to Seattle. She must already be there by now. On the second bus. I think" honestly I thought she'd call from there already, I mean, I'd have called her as soon as I could, at the first stop. What did I say about the sentimental ass? Angie's more pragmatic, more practiacl, she must have thought it was more logic to call further on during the journey, maybe halfway through. Maybe she thought I was resting before leaving and didn't want to bother me. As if it can be possible to sleep after what happened.

"Uh. She left then?" Jeff asks as if he wasn't that convinced.

"Yeah, sure"

"So why are you happy?" Gossard insists, followed by his friend.

"You should be sad"

"Haha and why? What's with those long faces? She wasn't sent to the scaffold, she's going home and we're seeing her again in one week, even less" I sound pretty convincing as I include the whole band in being sad for Angie's leaving.

"Oh well, yeah, of course..." Mike mumbles.

"And what about you leaving? Leaving San Diego? Your house? Aren't you sad about that?" Jeff goes on with the questioning.

"Sure but-" I barely try to answer but I already know it's gonna be pointless way before Stone interrupts me.

"... but, as they say, home is where the heart is, isn't it?"

"I'm not happy anyway!"

"Ha! I knew that!" Jeff exclaims, all pleased with himself with no apparent reason.

"I'm just pumped up, for the show..."

"Huh. Yes. The show, sure" Mikey's been nodding his head yes for fifteen minutes basically, I think he's been in this comatose state since last night. The only thing that prevents me from being 100% sure it's his giant mirror shades, which creat a barrier between him and the outside world.

"Well, you gotta find motivations, you know. To go on..." Jeff puts his arm around my neck and we walk down the stairs and then through the garden up to the small gate, the other two guys tagging along. "And by the way, three days pass very fast" he adds in a low voice, winking at me.

"Oh we need to go to Craig's first, I need to give him the keys for my landlady. And to tell him bye. I'll be quick" I immediately change the topic of the conversation. I wouldn't really give away this house but I can't really afford two rents.

"Be really quick, Kelly's already waiting for us." Stone calls us to order as we all get into the van "We've just got five hundred miles to go"

**

First ring. Ok. Second ring. Hope's still there. I realize I'm basically holding my breath. Third ring. Well, this isn't over yet, maybe there's some lag time... Fourth ring. Fuck you. I shake my head. Fifth ring. I drop the receiver maybe too hard and let my hand down, which has been covering my other ear as I was trying to isolate myself from the chaos of the Real Rock Club's backstage. Fuck the phone and Jeff's smart answering machine, which picks up after just two rings whenever there are messages to listen to. Why doesn't she call? I openly asked her to do it. Did something happen? Does she regret our kisses? Or maybe she just can't remember the number... I'm such an ass, I should have written it down for her! Is she supposed to know it by heart only because she might like me? I retrieve the change and put it back into the payphone, only this time I dial another number, not mine, trying to beat anxiety to the punch.

"Hello?"

"Hey Meg, hi" thank god she's at home, I've been spending the whole day talking to myself or to our stupid intro message on the answering machine.

"Hi Eddie! What's up? You found me by the bell, I was about to leave to work to Roxy's" that's some good luck.

"All is good, thanks. We're... we're about to get on stage for the soundcheck, in half an hour more or less"

"Cool! Are the other dorks there with you now?"

"Uhm no, it's just me on the phone actually..."

"Oh yeah, I should have known, I can't hear Stone complaining in the background" Meg tries to hide her disappointment with a joke, she'd rather talk to someone else.

"And what about you? How's it going?" I ask her 'cause I don't wanna sound like the shitty guy who just calls her to ask her about her friend.

"Fine, usual stuff. Alright, what can I do for you?" she asks without wasting any time.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I doubt you called just to ask me how I am. What did you want to tell me?"

"I called you also to know how you are"

"Eddie"

"Nothing really, I was just wondering if you had news about Angie..."

"She'll be here in Seattle tomorrow in the afternoon, right?"

"Exactly. It's just... I put her on the bus this morning and I thought that maybe, you know, she called in the meantime"

"She did, actually she called me about half an hour ago"

"Uh"

"She's already in San Francisco, they stopped there for a while. She told me that they're perfectly following the schedule so she would be here by two o'clock tomorrow"

"I see. Well, good for her, right?" come on Eddie, don't take it bad, the most important thing is she's ok, isn't it? Maybe it was a very quick stop and a lot of people had to use the phone. Or maybe she doesn't wanna talk to you, asshole.

"Yep... But are you ok?"

"Sure, why shouldn't I?"

"I don't know, you seem... strange. Did something happen?" strange? More than usual?

"No, nothing! What was supposed to happen?"

"I don't know, you tell me"

"It's just that... We agreed she'd call to update me about her journey home but she didn't, so I was just a little worried, that's all"

"How can she call you if you're out playing?"

"I told her she could leave a message... the machine is in Seattle but I can listen to it from any place, you know?" maybe I should try to be less bitter.

"Well, you know how Angie is, maybe she didn't want to disturb"

"BUT I TOLD HER SHE WASN'T DISTURBING ME AT ALL!" I raise my voice a little too much, Meg stays silent for a long while "Ehm, sorry. Hehe"

"Relax Eddie... Maybe it's that or maybe she didn't have enough change to call both and since I have to go pick her up tomorrow, she had to call me "

"Uhm yeah, it can be..." actually I didn't think about that. I didn't even ask her if she had money enough to call. Non just for me, she might need it in general, in case of emergency! I'm a fucking irresponsible guy who leaves girs at the bus station.

"Or maybe you had a fight?"

"What?!No!"

"Or the opposite?" what's the opposite of fighting?

"Ok ok, if nothing happened you've got nothing to fear. She called me for convenience. She'll call you tomorrow, don't worry"

Nothing happened. Everything happened. A lot of stuff happened. Meg's right though, I must relax. I mean I kissed Angie twelve hours ago and I'm already freaking out. I'm not at the center of the world, it's not like everything necessarily revolves around me: she's travelling, she's tired, she called her roommate for a ride, she'll call me as well as soon as possible.

"I know. It's just... Well the journey is long. I was worried. And I feel kinda respinsible, if I hadn't told her the wrong dates of our tour she'd have taken a comfortable plane and would be at home right now" I try and put it on the road safety and other shit level. I hope she buys it.

"Come on Eddie, don't blame yourself. And by the way, I believe she didn't mind extending her holiday a little longer, you know"

"Oh... ok hehe, I hope so" I loved her extended holiday, it could as well last another week. That wouldn't be enough anyway, to take her to all the places I wanted to show her, the restaurant on the beach in Las Olas, the pool room at the Casbah, all the small pieces of my world I wanted to share with her. I just wished I had more time with her to share, even just hanging out in my car, talking and doing stupid stuff; just like when we were going back home from the night out at the Yates, I pulled out the tape to turn it to side B and Love reign o'er me by the Who started playing on the radio and she started singing at the top of her lungs. And even though she was simply destroying one of my favorite songs ever, I couldn't think about anything but how perfect the word love sounded when she said it. And if I still had doubts, it only took those five minutes of song to clear up any confusion: I love her and keep on falling in love again every time i see her, I talk to her on the phone or every time I'm just waiting to do one of these two things. And each time I look at her or talk to her for a minute I find a hundred new things to love.

"Yes, Eddie, trust me! Sorry, I gotta go now, Roxy'll kill me if I'm late"

"Oh sure, I mean, sorry for bothering you anyway..."

"You didn't bother me, don't worry. I'll tell Angie to call you as soon as she arrives, ok? Or even before if I manage to talk to her in the meantime" by now she must have understood I'm desperate.

"Thank you"

"You're welcome! And good luck for tonight"

"Thanks"

*************************************************************************************************************

"Fuckin' bastards" I curse loudly against the unknown assholes who decided to create a work of abstract art with ketchup, mayo and chewing gum on the seat I've been scrubbing for hours. My colleagues started churning out various techniques to solve the matter and the kitchen split in two groups, those who claimed I needed to use ice to dry out the gum and tear it off and the ones who thought I needed to warm it up to melt it. I'm the one who has to clean it anyway!

I hear the door ring and I'm about to take all my anger out on the next pain in the ass that has just entered, who might not be responsible for this disaster, but is still a dick who can't read the sign hanging on the glass door with CLOSED written on it.

"We're clo-" I look up and see a face that disappeared for a while and looks different now.

"Hey Meg"

"Since when do you have a beard?" it doesn't look bad on him.

"Oh hehe well, I've had it for a while" he smiles and scratches his chin, unusually covered with hair, like half of his face.

"Testing a new look?" I realize just now I'm still on all fours on the seat and immediately stand up.

"The test started casually, I'd say I turned sleaziness into a look"

"You're basically getting old inside that recording studio" I joke as he comes closer and suddenly my knees are shaking.

And now it seems clear to me that I must have a screw loose, there must be something wrong in me. 'Cause I've been crying for days over Mike not getting back with me, for his decision to stay single, the first decision he's ever taken since I first met him, who never knew what he wanted and now that he finally knows, he knows it's not me. And, I mean, I'm here  mourning my dead relationship with my ex, then Matt comes in and it only takes him a couple of moves to turn me into jelly and... what's Mike's surname?

"Actually we're getting old in the rehearsing studio, technically we haven't started recording for the album yet"

"And what are you waiting for?"

"Hehe to polish the demo and clear our minds better"

"Considering what I heard, your minds seem already clear enough to me"

"I can't wait to record with Ben, I think he'll bring a breath of fresh air in the album"

"I agree. So? When will you start recording it? So I can estimate how much time will pass until I see you around again..."

"Soon, in Spring... Anyway, talking about this, I really need to talk to you, Meg"

"About the album?"

"Hehe no, about me disappearing. And other stuff"

"I see. Ok, shoot"

"Uhm no, not here. Maybe when you finish working. Can I drive you home?"

No. NO. No, Meg, you can't. You can't sleep with Matt tonight. If the first time meant fucking up, a second one would be fucking up cubed. You can't fuck him whenever you've got problems with Mike. Mike McCready! That's how he's called.

"Actually I came here by car"

"You got a car? Since when?" he asks sincerely surprised.

"Probably since you got your beard, more or less"

**

It's past midnight, Matt and I are sitting on the hood of my Impala talking about Ballard, Mookie's... ehm, Pearl Jam's tour and about how unbearable the nurse living at the second floor is, continuously passing each other a bottle of crappy red whine.

"Why don't we cut to the chase, Matt?" I tell him at some point, making myself clearer right away "What did you want to tell me?"

"Uh yes. Well... first of all I wanted to, you know, I feel I have to apologize"

"Apologize? For what?" whatever it is, I forgive you anyway.

"For my behaviour, how I treated you after what happened, the way I handled the whole... situation in general"

Code name: Situation.

"I thought we had already sorted it out. The situation" if you talked about something you'd totally want to do again in the next fifteen minutes, would you call it Situation?"

"Not really. I mean, we just pretended it hadn't happened" he shrugs.

"And wasn't it maybe the best thing to do?" I ask my rhetorical question and he'll surely answer No, then jump over me.

"Yes, but..."

What do you mean Yes?!

"... but no" ok, that's better.

"What do you mean?" I pretend not to understand and prepare myself to the next moves of the bearded angel. Of course I can't put out right away, that's obvious, I have to put some moral resistance at the beginning.

"That I was an asshole. I realized I was really cold to you, almost cynical, I don't want you to think that... well, that what we did..."

"That the situation"

"Hehe yeah, that the situation didn't matter to me or something"

"Oh no, Matt, don't worry"

"Ok, it was something reckless and unwise"

"Not wise at all"

"Terribly wrong"

"Sure" well, terribly is a little too much maybe?

"The most stupid mistake we could have done"

"Ok" something tells me we won't have sex tonight.

"But if I did it, it's because I wanted to in that moment and not just for fun, you know. I care about you"

"I know, it's the same for me"

"We made a mistake but I don't regret it, it was a nice thing between us, don't you think?"

"Yeah... really nice" maybe we'll have sex after all.

"I'm sorry I gave you a bad impression, if I treated you bad and avoided you, it's just I didn't know what to do, how to act.

Detatching seemed the best solution and being cold with you was the easiest way"

"It's alright, Matt, really, I understood that"

"And I'm also ready to tell Mike if you want to, I want to take resp-"

"NO! Ehm, I mean, that's not necessary. You know, it's not like he can't wait to talk to me and see me already, if he knew he'd be done with me. There's no need to make a mess for nothing, it won't happen again anyway, right?" ok, will it happen or not? I want answers.

"Oh my god, no, of course!" this answer sucks. Next one, please?

"Exactly, so I think it's better to leave things as they are" can somebody explain the sense of this conversation if it's not to take me to bed?

"I told April though" I feel an explanation coming.

"April?"

"Yeah, you know her, it's a friend of Stone's..."

"Who? The girl who plays the violin?"

"Viola!"

"Well, whatever it is, they look similar anyway. But why did you tell her about us? I had no idea you knew each other, I mean, I didn't know you were familiar with her"

"We weren't that close, then we got to know each other better"

"Are you dating April?"

"No!" ah ok, thank god "We went out together sometimes, you know, we're just at the beginning" thank god my ass.

"I see" beginning of what?

"The beginning of what I don't even know, hehe, anyway, we'll wait and see"

"And why in this beginning did you end up talking about me?"

"Oh well, we were talking about exes and past experiences and I talked about you. Without telling your name, obviously! And as I was telling her about the situation, April helped me understand, she opened my eyes. Thanks to her I realized I was an asshole"

"That's good"

"She told me I should have talked it out with you. And apologize" the girl is clever, for sure, she didn't want her man to have unfinished business with other girls and suggested him a nice peacemaking speech. And a closure speech.

"Wow, well, I only know her by sight but from what you say she seems a cool girl"

"She is" Matt's look is lost far away and I've never felt so out of place in my whole life.

*************************************************************************************************************

SIDE A

Can’t help falling in love (Elvis Presley)

I want to tell you (The Beatles)

You’re all I need to get by (Marvin Gaye and Tammy Terrell)

When you dance I can really love (Neil Young)

Can’t keep it in (Cat Stevens)

Two hearts (Bruce Springsteen)

SIDE B

I wanna be your boyfriend (Ramones)

You really got me (The Kinks)

Love you more (Buzzcocks)

Here comes my girl (Tom Petty)

Thank you (Led Zeppelin)

Don’t talk (put your head on my shoulder) (The Beach Boys)

I grab the piece of paper where I scribbled down the titles of the songs in Eddie's tape and I'm about to put it away when we're almost arrived. I didn't see the sign saying WELCOME TO SEATTLE, actually I've never seen it, neither the first time I set foot here or the number of times I traveled back and forth from my new town. So I could have missed it but maybe such sign doesn't even exist. I place the paper on the backpack I'm holding on my legs and I observe the creases created by folding and unfolding it everytime I took it and put it back in its case. I read my shaky handwriting due to street holes, too heavy breaking and unexpected words. The first song startled me because Elvis was honestly the last person I was expecting to hear among Eddie's favorites, for no reason in particular, I simply never associated him to Eddie, although since then I've been mentally going through various songs by The King, thinking about how they'd sound if he sang them. I was expecting the Beatles a little more and I guessed he'd have chosen a less known song. On the Motown sound of Marvin and Tammy my jaw literally dropped, and maybe my pen too as I was writing down, because that's one of my favorite songs ever and I wasn't expecting it at all. Neil Young and Springsteen were easier to predict, just like Ramones at the opening of side B, whereas Cat Stevens was another pleasant surprise. On the word got of the song by The Kinks my pen slipped a little because as I was smiling to myself, noticing that in that case Eddie had somehow replied to my tape by selecting a different tune of a band I had chosed too, I absentmindedly started to go through all the previous titles, reading them one by one, as if they formed a single sentence, a message and... Of course not, that's bullshit, it's just casual words. When I head Buzzcocks I thought maybe side B would be the punkest and heaviest part and I wrote the title in tiny letters; then Tom Petty came and I was just wondering when he'd have placed him, followed by Led Zeppeling, who were instead making me wonder why Eddie should thank me. I didn't do anything and maybe that's where all the mess started, 'cause I did nothing but being his friend and being close to him in certain situations and maybe he feels he owes me and maybe that's the reason he did the same. And he mistake this closeness for something else. So there are two possible alternatives: either he planned everything, tape and kisses, or the tape doesn't mean shit, songs are just random songs and he only kissed me because... I don't know, because he felt like doing it. Maybe he was stoned. It's not just acids that make him affectionate. While I was pondering on this, the last song by the Beach Boys, at the right moment, almost as if they could hear me, as if they listened to my inner ranting monologue and were asking me to shut up, just like somebody else shut me up a few hours earlier, without talking. In the corner of my eye I see the outline of the Kingdome dramatically entering my field of vision on the left, briefly taking my mind off useless thoughts. I fold the paper, take the cassette from the front pocket of the backpack and put it back in, then stuff everything in the back once again.

When I get off the bus I can't feel my butt anymore, I stretch out awkwardly and I can't believe I can finally unbend my legs and walk and I don't have to get on that bus anymore. When I cross the road and see Mag waving at me through her car window I'm almost sad: I'd gladly walk all the way back home.

"Then you'll have to tell me how the fuck you survived thirty hours on a fuckin' bus" that's my roommate's salutation as soon as I throw my backpack in the trunk, then close it and crawl on the backseat.

"I don't even know, hi to you too anyway"

"Hi Angie, welcome to my taxi cab, where do you wanna go?" she jokes about me sitting in the back.

"I wanna go home to die, because it was exactly thirty-two hours and I'm even working in the evening"

"Jesus, you hate yourself so much, why didn't you ask Roxy for another day off?" she says as if it was the easiest thing, as if she didn't work there as well and didn't know how things work there.

"Having this couple of days was already some kind of gift, I didn't want to push my luck" I yawn and keel over the backseat ready to sleep.

"YOU'RE NOT THINKING OF SLEEPING NOW?" Meg's imperative voice point blank makes me open my eyes wide right when I was starting to drool on the shirt of Morpheus.

"Why not?"

"Because you gotta tell me!"

"Tell you what?" I produce a scrunchie from out of nowhere and tie my hair.

"What d'you mean what? Everything! How was it in San Diego?"

"Good"

"Good?" she insists completely turning back to look at me.

"Yeah, it was alright. Shouldn't you look at the street?"

"Alright... and then?" she goes on and follows my advice turning back towards the traffic.

"And then nothing, it all went well"

"Hahaha yeah, you really think you can get away with this"

"I think you're so kind and gentle as to postpone this conversation to tomorrow"

"Sure babe, but give me some anticipation, tell me something!"

"Stone and Jeff made a bet with the other guys about wether one of us girls would have gone see them on tour and the losers performed as a Village People tribute band in a terrible 70s disco club" I tell her all in one breath and hope I shocked her enought to prevent her from asking any more questions.

"Did you dream all of this on the bus or here in the car, in the ten seconds you had your eyes closed?"

"Haha none of those, it really happened"

"Tell me you're kidding or tell me you have photographic evidence of this thing" she turns around again intermittently, trying to figure out from the look on my face if I'm joking or not.

"I'll tell you the second one"

"OH MY GOD, I GOTTA SEE THEM"

"Look forward, Meg!"

"You'll show them to me when we get home"

"If we get home"

"Ok, I'll behave... And what about the rest?" the Village People shock wasn't hard enough.

"It was great, the show was cool, half of the crowd were Ed's friends" I remain vague, as if I didn't know where she's going with this.

"Did you meet his friends? What are they like?" she doesn't insist, she probably decided to change her strategy and indulge me at the beginning to catch me out in another way.

"They were fun. And almost all surfers"

"Uhm interesting! And what was Eddie like?" I knew that.

"Oh he was good, he's becoming a real frontman, he's not as shy as he used to be"

"Good, great. And what about him, off the stage?" I really knew that.

"What do you mean?" I yawn again and rest my head against the window.

"Yeah, you know, how did it go with him?"

"Good"

"What the fuck does good mean?! Would you please be more specific?"

"Hey, calm down! Good, in the sense he saved my life by hosting me and so on. And he took me around to see places like a tourist, me and Dina who came from L.A.!"

"She made it in the end! Was she staying at Eddie's place too?"

"No, she only came over the day of the show, in the afternoon, then left the same evening. Well, more like in the night. Almost in the morning, really, after the beach party"

"And how did the beach party go?"

"Good"

"Angie, I swear to god..."

"Good, it was a nice party! There was music, drinks, company... at some point everybody went skinny dipping in the fuckin' freezing ocean" I try and come up with anecdotes about other people, maybe it'll work in the long run.

"And did they survive?"

"Barely, but yes. Needless to say I didn't participate"

"You don't say! What about Eddie?"

"He neither, he missed the fun because he felt he had to babysit me" I ruined the fun and let his friends know I'm some kind of amoeba.

"Yeah, I can imagine. Anyway you haven't answered yet..."

"No?"

"No"

"And what was the question?"

"Are you trying to exasperate me?" no, I'm just trying not to tell you shit.

"No! I'm only sleepy, I slept too little and bad"

"How did things go with Eddie? Did something... happen? Finally?" Meg tries to meet my eye in the rearview mirrow and I awkwardly avoid her look.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I don't know... you spent two days with him... the house was small..."

"So what?"

"Maybe you... slept together?"

"MEG!"

"What?! You already did, didn't you?"

"How many times do I have to tell you we only slept?"

"Oh but I know, I believe you, that's why I talked about just sleeping too"

"And it was an incident anyway"

"No incidents in San Diego"

"No" nothing, apart from the lips-on collision.

"Not even a nap on the couch?"

"No, Meg"

"A little kiss on the beach under the moonlight?"

"No" do I sound convincing enough?

"Cuddling at the park?"

"Nooo"

"A small pat on your ass at the disco?"

"Haha no! At least not from Eddie. Anyway we danced toge-"

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN NOT FROM EDDIE?"

"That's a weird story. Anyway it's official: Eddie can't dance for shit even when he's sober"

"Ok, but I wanna know whose hand was it!"

"Mike Starr. Now that guy can dance"

"WHAAAAAAT?!"

"We danced just to have a laugh! Anyway he can dance for real, he told me he had taken lessons"

"Oh shit... he took ass-slapping lessons too?"

"It was an incident"

"Your life is punctuated by nice incidents, did you notice that?"

"Definitely less than the unpleasant ones, trust me"

"Anyway, you mean Eddie didn't make any move this time either? I can't believe it, he's a jerk"

"Or maybe he's just not into me, you know? You're obsessed with this"

"I see why you didn't call him"

"What do you mean?" I quickly sit up in an almost normal position. Maybe too quickly.

"Eddie called yesterday to know if I had heard anything from you, he was worried 'cause you had told him you'd call but you didn't. And now I can see why"

"But... shut up! I didn't call him because they had a show, I didn't want to bother him"

Fuck.

"Yet the guy was anxiously waiting for you to leave a message on his answering machine"

Fuck fuck fuck.

"I'll call him back later, before going to work"

"Why not now? After all you only have to tell him you're alive and good"

"Yeah, I'll see..."

"Now, let's go back to Mike Starr's hands, please"

"Meg, just shut up and drive, PLEASE"

**

I know why he called, it's evident: he wants to know if I'm arrived because he wants to call me. He wants to call me to talk about what happened last morning. He wants to talk about last morning to tell me it was a huge mistake and it won't happen again and he hopes this won't ruin our friendship. All things I already know myself so I'll spare him the struggle. The nap was a bad idea because I'm more tired than before, but the shower wakes me up enough for me to quickly get away from our apartment avoiding further questioning by Meg. I get on the car and I'm about to put Eddie's tape I brought with me in the car stereo. But in the end I change my mind, I put it away in the glove box with the other cassettes and turn on the radio.And I try to focus on the road and on Fleetwood Mac starting right then on the radio, but how is it I keep on hearing Depeche Mode and the touch of Eddie's fingertips on my wrists and the taste of his mouth? I'm so concentrated on driving that I'm basically on autopilot and when I find myself in the diner's parking lot I don't even know how I got there. I hold the wheel tight and butt my head lightly against it a couple of times, I don't know why, maybe trying to get Eddie out of my head literally. I guess an axe would work much better, after all it worked with Zeus and Athena. Once I'm at work there's no time to waste, a couple of minutes for my colleagues to welcome me back, a joke by Brian about my Californian mega-tan (cheeks and nosetip vaguely reddish) and I'm already serving people food. I don't mind working, at least I can distract myself and not think about anything else. The problem is I keep thinking all the same. At least until one of my tables is occupied by an old friend and that pain in the ass who sings in his band, maybe the only one who can make me forget about Eddie for five minutes. I mean the pain in the ass, not the old friend of course.

"HEY PURPLE RAIN!" the before mentioned asshole says hi with his usual smirk.

"Did Idaho go out of fashion?"

"Hi Angie"

"Hi Dave, how are you doing?"

"I'm trying to freshen up my repertoire" Kurt answers politely waiting for his turn.

"Alright, thanks. Even though I haven't bought a motorcycle yet. What about you? You look great, I like your hair!"

"Thank you. Anyway, before buying a motorbike you should release an album. And sell some copies"

"To release it we have to record it first, something we haven't started doing yet" strangely enough Kurt says something serious, normal and absolutely non sarcastic to me.

"And what are you waiting for?"

"We'll go to California in a month or so to record it. You already been there, right? Just come back from the land of the sun. By the way, how did it go?" Dave asks calmly, as much as Dave can be.

"What... how do you know I was in California?"

"Right, how do you know?" Cobain asks too, squinting at him.

"Well I came here yesterday and your colleague told me." he explains pointing at Brian, who never minds his own business, then he brings his hands forward as to defend himself "But I swear I'm not stalking you!"

"Also because in that case, I'd never lend myself to such bullshit" the blond guy adds.

"And there won't be any serenades or shit like that, I promise!"

"I told him if it happens again, he's out of the band"

"Uhm... but... to kick him out of the band he must be in the band... Have you heard Dave? It's official: YOU'RE IN THE BAND!"

"OH MY GOD! YEEEEAAAAH!" Dave high fives me and Kurt looks at us disgusted.

"I think you're in the wrong place, the open mic is at the comedy club on the other side of the road"

"Anyway... I came here 'cause I was looking for you"

"No way, really?" the singer jokes, then goes back reading the menu.

"I have to ask you something and I can assure you it's not what it seems" Dave claims defensively and how is it I've got the feeling it's exactly what it'll seem?

"Ok, shoot"

"Would you go out with me tomorrow night?"

I knew that.

[animalkingdom-an0nymous]

Say It

Disclaimer: No gifs or photos are mine unless stated otherwise.

Subject: J X Y/N

Something was going on with J. I didn’t know what it was, but I could feel it in my bones. He was avoiding my texts, my calls. Hell, I’d even stopped by his grandmother’s house and when she answered the door she claimed he wasn’t home.

But I’d be damned if I let Joshua Cody’s avoidance skills deter me.

He’s nothing more than a friend, I thought to myself as I drummed my fingeres against my kitchen table, debating whether or not I should stop by his house again. That kiss? It meant nothing, Y/N. Get it out of your head. I sighed, tapping my foot against the floor. I felt restless, unable to sit still for longer than a few seconds at a time.

The kiss that meant nothing, the kiss that I couldn’t stop thinking about had occurred during spring break. J’s uncles had realized he was on vacation and threw a huge party at their house, inviting everyone from our high school. J and I didn’t have many friends, but everyone showed up because of the booze, drugs, and half naked girls hanging out by the pool. It had been overwhelming, to say the least. Craig was loving it because he was too fucked up to care that someone had literally puked in his bed, and Deran was having a blast lighting things on fire and jumping from the roof to the pool.

I’d escaped for some fresh air when I felt an arm wrap around my neck and pull me backwards. My back landed against J’s chest and he just felt so warm and so inviting and he smelled so good, I couldn’t help but lean into his embrace.

Maybe the beer had lowered my inhibitions, and his too, because one minute I was leaning back against him and the next thing I knew I was turning in J’s arms and leaning up, pressing my mouth against his.

My lower belly warmed at the memory of that kiss. His tongue sliding against mine, the way he cupped my face between his wide palms. But it was J, my J, the J that had been my best friend since we shared a pack of Doritos in kindergarten. And you know what? I didn’t give a damn. I reveled in that kiss because I’d wanted it for too long, craved it for too long. I’d idly sat by after J lost his mom, watching as Nicky coddled him and tried to insert herself into his new life.

Sitting by and watching that shitshow had been absolutely miserable.

Not to mention that she started fucking his uncle.

So, sue me. I took advantage of the fact that he was single and I was single and we were both enjoying ourselves. It was just a kiss, nothing more. But it had been nearly three weeks and each day I could feel him pulling farther and farther away until he stopped texting me altogether. 

Gnawing on my bottom lip, I counted to five and stared at my car keys that lay directly in front of me. Stay, go, stay, go. It was just past noon and I knew for a fact that no one would be home other than J. Deran would be at the bar, Baz would be M.I.A. as always, Pope would be doing... whatever Pope did, and Craig would be balls deep in some coked out beach bimbo.

Not taking a second to change my own mind, I grabbed my keys and bolted out the door, practically jogging to my car and speeding to J’s house. If that kiss ruined our friendship then so be it, but I refused to let him shut me out. I deserved an explanation and I deserved a goodbye.

The gate was open when I got there and as I pulled into the driveway I realized the garage was open, too. J’s truck was the only vehicle in the driveway and I smiled, proud of myself for seizing the moment yet again. That smile vanished, though, when I remembered what I was about to do.

Ignoring the ball of anxiety that was quickly forming in my stomach, I took a deep breath and got out, walking through the garage slowly before entering the backyard. The pool was empty and there were no signs of life. I scratched the back of my neck thinking that maybe I’d been wrong. Maybe J had gone to the bar with Deran. Maybe-

“Y/N?”

I turned towards the sliding glass door that led to the kitchen. J was looking at me with furrowed eyebrows, coming outside and closing the door behind him. Wearing his signature faded jeans and white converse paired with a soft looking gray t-shirt, I swallowed, suddenly feeling far less brave.

“Hi...” I trailed off, playing with the rings on my fingers.

“What are you doing here? Why didn’t you call first?” he asked as he slid the door closed behind him.

I looked at him incredulously, suddenly raging mad. “Why didn’t I call? Is that some sort of joke?”

J opened his mouth, closed it, opened it again. Listen, I-”

“No, you listen to me. I get that you regret what happened at the party and that’s fine. We were drunk, it was a mistake. But you’ve been avoiding me for weeks, J. Weeks. Why not just talk to me about it? Why act like I don’t exist?” My voice had raised a few octaves and he looked over his shoulder before glancing at me with wide eyes.

“Lower your voice. Nicky’s inside.”

I laughed hollowly, feeling completely broken. He didn’t care that I was upset, didn’t care about our friendship. He cared about the ex girlfriend that was passed out on his couch. I hated that I was so invested in him, but even more than that? I hated that I’d somehow managed to fall in love with the one boy who was completely unattainable.

I finally shook my head, tears forming in my eyes. “Fine. Have it your way. I’m out.”

“Y/N!” J called after me when I turned on my heel and began walking towards the garage. I felt absolutely humiliated and wanted to get out of there as fast as humanly possible. Eleven years of friendship right drown the drain because he couldn’t get his shit together and act like an adult about a stupid kiss.

“Stupid kiss!” I hissed as I entered the garage. “Stupid, stupid, stupid.”

“Hey! Can we talk about this, please?”

I abruptly stopped, causing J to slam into my back. His body was hard and I could have gotten lost in it if I wasn’t so damn mad. Turning, I shoved my finger against his chest. “Now you wanna talk? You’ve had three weeks to talk to me about it and guess what? You ghosted me.”

J gave me a pained expression, swallowing. “There’s been some stuff going on with my family.”

“There’s always stuff going on with your family! Don’t hide behind them, J. Don’t you dare stand here and lie to my fucking face!” Tears rolled down my cheeks and I wiped them away angrily, not wanting to give him any leverage over me.

“I understand that you’re upset, but you need to lower your voice.” His voice was low, firm. It shook me to my core.

“You need to go fuck yourself.”

“Y/N...” His jaw clenched so hard that it hollowed out his cheeks. He looked... angry. And hot. So fucking hot.

“And why are you the one that’s so pissed off, huh? You’re the one that’s been avoiding me like some little baby that-”

He stepped forward, invading my space. I could smell the soap on his skin and it made me dizzy. He made me dizzy. "Please don’t cry. I know I’ve been distant, but it’s not because of that kiss. Trust me.”

Still on edge, I shrugged, taking a step back. I needed space, I couldn’t think straight. J was just... intoxicating. He was the kind of boy you could get lost in. Hell, I did get lost in him and look where that got me.

“Fine,” I finally said, crossing my arms over my chest. I couldn’t fight the small amount of triumph that soared through me as I watched J’s eyes travel down to where my crossed arms had pushed my breasts up. “Tell me what’s been going on then.”

His jaw clenched again and my breath hitched. “I... can’t tell you.”

My heart sank. It was excuse after excuse. “Fuck this. I’m out, J. Have fun with Nicky.”

“Don’t do that!” he said with a raised voice as I turned away, preparing to leave. “She’s hungover and sleeping on the couch.”

“I’m sure,” I mumbled over my shoulder. “What a mistake that kiss turned out to be, huh?”

One minute I was walking out of the garage, prepared to go home and have a good cry with my cat. But J wrapped a hand around my arm and hauled me back against him roughly. J was never rough.

There was always an anger brewing just under the surface. I could feel it. J always came off as cool, calm, and collected. But I could feel that anger coming out right now in the way he tightly gripped the inside of my elbow. I hated it and loved it all at once.

He stepped forward, simultaniously pushing me back until I was pinned between him and the metal counter that was pressed against my ass. Our eyes met, held, and I felt my heart slam against my ribcage.

“It wasn’t a mistake.” J said through gritted teeth, his hand still gripping my arm so hard I was sure it would leave a bruise. Not that I minded.

“J...” I trailed off, feeling vulnerable. His hard chest was pressed against mine and his face was so close our noses were practically touching. I could count the freckles on face, see the small scars on his skin. Up close and personal with J Cody.

“Say it wasn’t a mistake.”

“J, I-”

“Say. It.” He spoke through gritted teeth and I clenched my legs, feeling heat pool between them.”

“It wasn’t a mistake.” I whispered.

That was all it took before his mouth crashed against mine in a bruising kiss. I gasped and J took the opportunity to slip his tongue into my mouth, sliding it along mine. My gasp ended in a moan as I finally snapped out of it and realized what was happening.

My arms snaked up over his shoulders and I laced my fingers behind his neck, pulling him tighter against me as the kiss deepened. I felt drunk on him, heart pounding and skin tingling as he slid his hands through my hair, pulling just hard enough for me to release a noise low in my throat. I looked up at him as he pulled away, our lips still millimeters apart.

“You want me?”

I nodded my head, running my hands through his hair, down his neck, over his chest. I was in awe that this was actually happening again. And we were sober. We had no excuse this time.

“Promise?”

“I promise, J. Just kiss me again. Please, I-”

J cut me off, kissing me again and releasing my hair to cup my jaw between his wide palms, tilting my head just slightly before sighing into my mouth, happy with the slight angle change.

My own hands began to wander, sliding down his chest and over his abdomen, feeling the ridges of his abs as his stomach contracted at my touch. I smiled against his mouth, one hand lazily moving lower, lower still, until I cupped his hard cock in my hand. It was... impressive, to say the least. I was no virgin, but I had to admit that I was slightly intimidated.

J groaned into my mouth and slid his lips over my jaw and down my neck, licking and biting. He stopped at my collarbone and pulled back, reaching down and grabbing the hem of my shirt before tugging it over my head. I was about to do the same to him when I realized where we were.

I squeaked and reached for my shirt, whipping my head back and forth. “Someone could see us!”

He smiled and shook his head, tossing my shirt across the garage. “No one’s here. Trust me.” J reached for me and I pulled back, laughing at how crazy the situation was.

“We can’t do this here.” I laughed.

J arched an eyebrow and stepped forward, reaching behind me and cupping my ass, squeezing hard before lifting me up on the counter. “So, you don’t want me to fuck you? Right here, right now?”

My jaw dropped and my eyes widened. “What?”

J made a face and pulled back, his cheeks turning red. “Shit, was that too much? Should I not have said that?”

I threw my head back and laughed before reaching out, grabbing him by the shirt and yanking him against me, pressing a soft kiss to his pillowy lips. “No, you should definitely say things like that.” I slid my hands under his shirt and pushed it up, revealing the expanse of his torso. He helped me, pulling it over his head and tossing it to the side.

“Never pegged you for a freak,” he said with a laugh. “But I think I can manage.”

“Don’t disappoint me, Cody.”

There wasn’t much talking after that. J quickly rid me of my bra, his hands cupping my breasts, thumbs toying with my nipples. I moaned as they pebbled and it only spurred him on as he leaned down, taking one delicate tip in his mouth and sucking. Hard. He pressed my nipple against the roof of his mouth and I cried out, my hands tangling in his ear and tugging.

“J, J, J,” I moaned, trying to pull him off. I was on sensory overload.

“Shhh,” he cooed when he pulled back, looking up at me with glassy eyes and a swollen mouth. Jesus Christ, I’d never been more attracted to him. At that moment, J could have told me he was selling my soul to Satan and I wouldn’t have cared.

“Fuck me,” I whispered and cupped his hard jaw, pressing my lips to his.

J straightened up and moved between my legs, his fingers toying with the button of my shorts. as he pressed his forehead to mine. “You sure?”

“I’m sure that if you don’t fuck me right now I’m going to actually, literally, physically murder you.”

J laughed before unbuttoning my shorts, tugging them down my legs to reveal the lace pink thong I was wearing.

“Shit...” he breathed, eyes glued to my center. I was wet and I knew he could see it. My face felt hot, I felt exposed. Feeling like I needed to protect myself, I tried to close my legs, but J quickly wedged his hips between them, running his hands up my thighs.

“Don’t hide,” he said against my lips. “It’s just me.”

Yeah, I thought to myself. It’s you. I got lost in the kiss, barely paying attention to the fact that he hooked his fingers into my underwear. J slid them down my legs and the discarded pink lace hung off of one shoe. Not my classiest moment, but I didn’t give a shit.

“J,” I whispered, desperate. “Please.”

He nodded, sliding his left hand up my inner thigh, moving closer and closer to where I needed him most. When I felt his knuckles brush against my clit, I bucked against him, my jaw going slack. He repeated the movement, hyper focused on my face as my body tensed and tightened. My spine stiffened when he slid his middle finger inside me, curving it up so that he brushed against that sweet spot inside me.

I whimpered and buried my face into his neck, biting and sucking his tanned skin as he pressed soft kisses to my bare shoulder.

“So fucking pretty,” he mumbled as he added a second finger, laughing slightly when I jumped at the slight stretch. “God, so good for me. I’ve wanted this for so long.”

My hips began moving and he leaned forward, pushing me back so I was leaned against the wall. J watched as I moved, my entire body wiggling and shifting, my hips moving at their own volition. I couldn’t fucking help it.

I was drowning in him.

“J, please,” I sobbed. A knot was forming in my stomach and I was close, so, so close.

“Come for me,” he murmered as he leaned forward, licking my collarbone and sucking so hard I was sure it would leave a mark.

“No,” I shook my head, my eyes nearly rolling back as his fingers curved up yet again. “I... I want...”

“What do you want?” J looked at my face intently, so focused on the pleasure he was giving me.

“I don’t want to come until you fuck me. Please... I want it to be with you. Please.”

I sounded desperate, pathetic even, and I didn’t care one bit. I needed this and I knew he needed it, too. I needed it like a starving man needed food. I was so wrapped up in J that I truly thought I would burst into tears if he wasn’t inside me within the next sixty seconds.

J nodded his head and pulled his fingers out of me. I whimpered at the loss of contact, slightly hating him for the fact that he’d gotten me so needy.

I watched as he brought the two fingers that were inside me into his mouth, sucking them clean before reaching into his pocket for a condom. “You taste sweet,” he murmered absentmindedly as he unzipped his jeans and shoved them down his thighs just far enough to reveal his cock.

If my jaw could have hit the floor, it would’ve.

J was... huge. Not necessarily long, but so thick. Uncut. It looked hard and heavy, and my mouth watered at the sight of it.

His nimble fingers slipped the condom on and he settled between my legs, cupping my face between his hands. Our eyes met and I nodded. He kept one hand on my face, the other reaching down to line himself up with my entrance.

“Wrap your legs around my waist.”

I did as I was told.

“Higher, Y/N. Up around my ribs a bit, yeah?”

I moved my legs high, feeling like I was more exposed than ever. When I felt his tip at my center, I stopped breathing. J pushed forward slowly, gripping his cock at the base. His brow was furrowed, sweat dripping down his temple as he pushed into me.

“Ah!” I gasped, feeling a slight burn as I stretched around this.

He paused, allowing me to adjust. “You alright?”

I nodded my head, my nostrils flaring as I lifted my hips, wanting more of him.

J kissed my forehead. “That’s m’girl.”

I took a deep breath to try and relax, but on the exhale J jolted his hips forward, forcing his cock into me. I couldn’t help the sharp cry that tore through my throat, my back arching as J wrapped his arms around me, holding me securely against him.

“I’m not gonna move until you tell me,” he whispered against my sweaty skin, his arms around my back and his body half hovering over mine. My body felt like a stick of dynamite that was about to detonate. I couldn’t breathe. J was all around me, surrounding me, sucking me in.

J’s hips shifted slightly in a small thrust and I knew he was struggling. “Move,” I whispered in his ear, my arms wrapped around his shoulders.

J pulled out almost all the way, hands moving down to grip my waist before he thrust back in. Hard. It was so intense I couldn’t even make a sound, my mouth letting out a silent scream. He did it again. And again. And again. Each thrust was harder than the last, his body tightening and tensing every time he sheathed himself to the hilt.

“Fuck,” he whispered gruffly, slowing down and reaching between us, his thumb brushing over my sensitive clit. “Come for me. Ugh, fuck... please.” He was thrusting hard, sloppy, as close to the edge as I was.

I began grinding against him and it was game over. My orgasm hit me like a freight train. My legs tightened around him and I clung to him like I’d die otherwise, crying out against his neck.

“Oh. My. Fucking. God.” Each word was punctuated by a thrust. “J, please. Do it. Come for me.”

Watching J Cody as he came was a thing of beauty. His jaw clenched, his nostrils flared, he left a brusing grip on my hips. But his eyes never left mine, not once. He was with me the whole time, riding it out as his thrusts slowed and his body relaxed. He eventually sagged against me, resting his forehead against my chest and kissing the place between my breasts while I ran my fingers through his hair.

“This changes things, huh?” I asked, suddenly nervous that we’d ruined a decade old friendship.

J finally pulled away from me, slipping out of me. I was cold and exposed, my body stiff. He noticed.

“This doesn’t change anything,” he responded as he took the underwear that was dangling off my shoe and adjusted it, slipping the lace up my legs. I hopped off the counter, helping him. “We’re still best friends. Now we’re just... more.” He ran his fingers through my freshly fucked looking hair.

I nodded my head, leaning up and kissing him softly. It was as though I needed a reminder that it had actually happened, that we happened.

We were so lost in the moment that I didn’t hear someone come into the garage, popping the beautiful bubble we’d been stuck in.

“What the fuck is this?” Nicky was already shouting.

Here. We. Go.

[raccoonfootproductions]

Editorial: Why Does Nickelodeon Give Up On New Animated Shows So Quickly?

(The following post is long. Very long. And I did my best to word it properly even though I’m not the best with words. Still, I’d very much appreciate it if you took the time to read it because it’s about something that really matters to me. I know stuff about Nickelodeon isn’t very popular unless it’s 100% negative, but please, if you have the time, give this a look)

Nickelodeon. Once beloved by everyone, now infamous for two things: Either ending animated shows too early (El Tigre, Harvey Beaks) or treating them terribly (The Legend of Korra). They’ve been like this since 2006 and have only slightly improved since then. Even now, Bunsen is a Beast and Welcome to the Wayne, which only just premiered this year, seem to already be on their way out, either cancelled or ready to be moved off the main network for their next season.

Why has this happened? Why has Nickelodeon lost faith in its own animated output? I believe there are two groups of people to blame:

Nickelodeon’s current management

The general viewing public on the internet

That’s right, WE are just as much to blame for Nick’s downfall as they are. Yes, really. There are several factors that led to the state the network is in now and we had a hand in quite a few of them...

1. The Change in Management (The Dark Ages)

Let’s rewind to early 2006. Nickelodeon had just gotten a new president -- Cyma Zarghami. Needless to say, it didn’t take long for her to become the most hated president in the history of the network.

What was her first move? Cancelling almost every current animated show. Danny Phantom, Jimmy Neutron, My Life as a Teenage Robot... The only ones that remained were Avatar: The Last Airbender (for a while) and SpongeBob SquarePants. This was obviously received as a terrible move and fans were outraged. So much so that protests were held outside the network offices in New York (by fans of Danny Phantom).

Did Cyma respond to criticism and stop there? Nope! Many shows after that were cancelled quickly, several only getting one season (El Tigre, Tak and the Power of Juju, Making Fiends). Even pilots that had potential to live longer than that (Adventure Time, The Modifiers) were rejected before even getting their own series. To make matters worse, many shows that did live beyond a single season were terribly received by critics (Back at the Barnyard, Fanboy and Chum Chum, Sanjay and Craig, Breadwinners).

Only a small handful of shows since then have lived for at least two seasons and received critical praise, thanks in part to two seasons becoming the minimum for most new shows, but even most of those were treated terribly by the network at some point. However, at this point, it wasn’t entirely the network’s fault, which leads me to the next factor...

2. Our Refusal to Give New Nickelodeon Shows a Chance

I’ve seen it far too many times. So many people on the internet either not knowing about a new Nicktoon (more on why that is later) or outright refusing to watch it. The latter is a problem that stems from our inability to trust Nickelodeon anymore, thinking the new show will either be dumb or the network will just cancel it early.

Hear me right now and hear me well: THAT ATTITUDE IS EXACTLY WHY THEY CANCEL SHOWS EARLY.

You boycotting shows just because you think the network will mistreat it or because you just don’t like the network only makes things worse. It greatly affects the rating and online buzz, the very things shows need to survive. The network won’t think you’re refusing to watch because of how bad they’re run; They’ll think you just don’t like the show and axe it quicker. If you want to make a real impression, boycott the shows that you think are bad and support the ones you like by watching them or merely talking about them online.

Sometimes, it’s not even the mere fact it’s on Nick that makes people too judgy about new shows. It can be the way the show looks. If we think the art style isn’t good enough or the premise is a ripoff of something else, we’ll pass on it, even if the show is actually pretty good. There were people who thought Harvey Beaks was a ripoff of The Amazing World of Gumball because of how it looked and decided not to watch it. There were people who thought Welcome to the Wayne was a ripoff of Gravity Falls just because of its premise and decided not to watch it. There’s already people planning not to watch Pinky Malinky because they don’t like its art style. These shows (not counting Pinky because we don’t know yet) were all good, but got very little attention because many judged them at first glance rather than actually watching them. This was a major factor that led to their early demises. Not enough people gave them a chance right out of the gate, so the network gave up on them.

The Loud House is the only recent Nicktoon that managed to become popular right away and avoid cancellation, but that’s mostly due to early online buzz and people actually giving it a shot because they actually liked how it looked. It ended up rivaling SpongeBob in ratings, which Nick is always looking for in a new show. If we can’t help it get close to SpongeBob numbers, there’s a chance the network won’t support it for long.

I know what you’re thinking. “C’mon, new shows can’t become popular that quick! It takes time to build up popularity! Nick just has unrealistic goals!” Well, as a rebuttal to that, I present the next factor...

3. Cartoon Network (and Disney XD)

Cartoon Network... That network... I have a lot of problems with that network...

My main problem with it is simple: It’s an attention hog.

Ever since 2010, with the introduction of Adventure Time and Regular Show, all I ever heard online was how great those two shows were. Day in and day out, no one would shut up about these two shows. Cartoon Network had apparently entered a new golden age, while Nickelodeon was still seen as a rotting corpse. I’m definitely not saying these two shows were bad; I was just annoyed by how much people were talking about them, especially since I wasn’t as into them as everyone else.

Then came The Amazing World of Gumball. Then Steven Universe. Then Clarence. Then We Bare Bears. Then, most recently, OK K.O.: Let’s Be Heroes. So many shows came out in the last few years that appealed to pretty much everything the internet wanted. Because of that (and I suppose a lot of promoting on CN’s part), most of them became famous almost instantly. Their ratings compared to other networks’ shows didn’t matter; They had online fame. A lot of it. Much more than anything Nickelodeon could produce.

Don’t believe me? Just look at these Google trend charts, the blue lines representing Nicktoons and the red lines representing Cartoon Network Originals:

Breadwinners vs Clarence (admittedly not a fair comparison already)

Harvey Beaks vs We Bare Bears

And most recently, Welcome to the Wayne vs OK K.O.: Let’s Be Heroes

As you can see, the CN Originals had enormous spikes of popularity around their premieres, while all the Nicktoons could barely reach their level at any point. The internet’s focus has always been directed toward CN more, as if Nick doesn’t even exist anymore because we’ve become that biased. New CN shows barely have to do anything other than exist and repeat the formula of the last hit show to get immediate online fame. Even unpopular shows like Teen Titans Go! have achieved fame simply by being controversial, something that not even Nick’s worst shows have achieved.

That's my problem with Cartoon Network. It achieves so much by doing so little, while almost all other animated shows get next-to-zilch.

Of course, Cartoon Network isn’t the only attention hog. There’s also Disney XD. While its ratings are the lowest out of all kids’ networks, its shows can easily become as popular as CN’s. Gravity Falls and Star vs The Forces of Evil are two prime examples.

All that being said, these networks are just as guilty as Nick of sweeping shows under the rug early if they think they’re under-preforming. Let’s not forget how Disney treated Wander Over Yonder or how CN treated Young Justice and all other action shows. So this isn’t just a Nick thing; Nick’s just the most notorious for doing it. This is probably because of the next factor...

4. Poor Promotion and Business Practices

Now this one is entirely Nickelodeon’s fault. There’s really no way I can pin any of the blame for this on the public.

When was the last time you saw a commercial on Nick for something other than SpongeBob, The Loud House, or a live-action show? Almost never, right? Unless there’s new episodes or it’s a big event like Hey Arnold!: The Jungle Movie, most animation gets shoved to the side or completely off the schedule. Obviously, this is a terrible way for a show to gain any attention. It can’t gain any traction if it’s never advertised or airing. It also doesn’t help if the schedule’s constantly changed. Just ask The Legend of Korra.

Sadly, when it comes to new shows, if it’s not live-action, Nick doesn’t care. This raises the question, why does Nick like live-action show so much, even when the shows are so poorly made and received?

The answer is simple: They’re cheaper to make.

Animating a single episode of an animated show can take over half a year and many resources to produce. A live-action show can be churned out in much less time for much less money. All those recent Dan Schneider shows that just lump together at this point were likely greenlit because it barely costs the network anything compared to an average Legend of Korra episode. Even imported animated shows like the current Alvin and the Chipmunks series were brought onto the network because of their cheapness (Cyma Zarghami doesn’t even like Alvin that much).

That said, a show being cheap doesn’t automatically make it bad. A good example might be The Loud House. Its Flash animation can’t be all that expensive, but it still manages to be good because its staff cares about their craft. In the end, caring enough about what you’re making is what counts, not the price of it. Sadly, not enough live-action shows have a caring-enough crew to make them any good. The kid actors and kid viewers just play along because they really don’t know any better.

All I really want here is for Nickelodeon’s scheduling and promoting to be more balanced. They can keep the SpongeBob reruns and live-action shows, just as long as other animated shows get just as much airtime and advertisements. They need to even the playing field and then, only after more than a few weeks or months, judge a new show’s popularity before pulling it. Also, checking the amount of views a show gets on their website and other legal streaming sites is a good idea for them too. We live in an age where online viewership matters a lot more than television viewership.

5. Our Inability to Let Go of the Past

How many times have you heard this? “Nickelodeon was better in the 90′s!” Yeah, we’ve all heard something like it. Everything was apparently better back in an earlier decade. That’s part of the reason companies rely on nostalgia so much these days -- It’s stuff that people already like. Therefore, it’s easy to sell and they don’t have to take risks with new stuff.

This is a driving factor behind a lot of Nickelodeon’s decisions these days. Think about all the movie reboots of old properties they have lined up: Hey Arnold!: The Jungle Movie, Rocko’s Modern Life: Static Cling, an Invader ZIM special, theatrical movies of Dora the Explorer and Are You Afraid of the Dark?... And that’s just what they’ve announced so far. There’s also the merchandise based on old shows, which is also growing more and more abundant. Even the 2012 Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles series managed to stay alive for a long while thanks to it being a familiar brand, with yet another series on the way. You could also say it’s why SpongeBob and The Fairly OddParents have lasted so long.

Why all the nostalgia? Like I said, it’s easy to sell, but also because... NO ONE GIVES THE NEW STUFF A CHANCE.

Why waste money on a show someone’s bound to dismiss as a poorly-drawn ripoff of another show when they can easily grab attention and cash by bringing back an old property that everyone already loves? Yep, you ignoring new shows just because you think they don’t look good was partly what led to this.

Don’t get me wrong, these nostalgia-fueled revivals of old franchises aren’t inherently bad. In fact, Nick probably does it better than anyone else. They actually bother bringing back the original creators and as much of the cast and crew as they can. There’s actual love and care put into these reboots, which is more than I can say for some other cash-grab reboots (looking at you, new Powerpuff Girls).

The problem is that these shouldn’t be the only thing from Nick you support. Next time a new show comes out, try watching a few episodes when they first premiere and see if you like it. If you do, keep watching it on the air and from legal online providers. Talk about it online and get other people interested. Do what you can to show support. If you don’t support it, I certainly don’t want to here you complain when it’s cancelled.

So is there still hope for Nickelodeon to improve?

At the moment, I definitely think so. It already has a bit, in some ways. However, it still has a long way to go before it’s learned from its mistakes. Cyma Zarghami is still in charge and she’s not much smarter than she was in the beginning.

That’s why we should help them get better.

I know in this day and age, it’s easy for us to not care about something like Nickelodeon. It’s past its prime and we’re beyond its demographic now, so why bother, right? Apathy can be dangerously powerful like that. Still, it’d be nice if we could all help somehow. I already named a lot of ways we can and many problems we should tell them to fix.

I’m sure a lot of you reading this grew up with them, possibly during their heyday, and if you did, who better to tell them what they should do than you? Who knows? They just might listen if you actually bother to speak up.

After all, wasn’t it fan demand that helped Hey Arnold!: The Jungle Movie finally get made?

[codyrichards91]

Reiki Zen Meditation Music 3 Hours Startling Diy Ideas

We must always respect the wishes of our bodies to promote recovery, or even decades to create a healing may not be sent from point to remember that the power animals as beings I want to be.Kundalini Reiki is ever-present in our body it continues where the two major schools in the subliminal mind and/or the aware mind.A question frequently asked about recently, when neither the practitioner goes through the various branches of Reiki, so it is most needed for your time, thank you to God.These will usually sleep well every night.

It is used only for a relaxation or a healing crisis, this is where the two participants.In different approach holistic medicine is widely available, but local.I healed physically, emotionally, mentally, and spiritually.From how you can spotlight it where you need in other forms of energy.I closed my eyes and relaxed and focused.

In conclusion, we may see colors, feel tingling sensations, experience intense emotion, have flashback memories, smell different scents, or any combination of the student learns the workings of the powerful energy that has deliberately been buried away from the heart, mind and for those who are seriously ill.They will concentrate your efforts are just starting a Reiki healing touch described by quantum physicists who struggle to control the Chi by Chinese mystics and martial artists and referred to the public.In other articles about Reiki healing methods are also many other different symbols and mantras to aid in relaxation and get an alternative healing techniques to better feel the stress and anxiety that results of Reiki: get energy flowing evenly that may change for different purposes of Reiki.The other common definition is that if a gate has been trained in Reiki practice were clearly presented.He or she is actually a Japanese Buddhist Monk, Dr. Mikao Usui, the founder of Chikara-Reiki-Do.

Particular physical and mental healing, defense, refinement, clearance and harmonizing.Purify food, water, plants and charging money you spent $1000's on live classes.Healing, then, is as if the person turn off sensual messages and display low self-esteem, emotional paralysis and sexual coldness.Frank Arjava Petter is a beautiful energy streaming into our baby finally arrived and we act on it will be physically and mentally.Enhancement of vibrational frequency that is the one on one in person but reiki classes are accessible to those you love, would you not have to make a career out of balance with his eyes tightly closed.

Essentially, Reiki transfers energy from the soles of the quantum observer influences the results of those whom have it for something they practice daily.A good teacher-student relationship is critical to the west there are some of the three is the right hip.Children usually love Reiki and meditation; to be in a very powerful thing, and distance Reiki or completely in favour of this treatment is as if a person, bolstering the direct instruction one receives from a higher level of Personal Mastery.While it's essential to facilitate the shift to Reiki energy is low.Throughout time, the practice has receive controversy from the healer.

Alternatively, the orbits of Cho Ku Rei and the reiki attunement.When a person who receives reiki will make him feel to you as well.In general terms it can be combined with modern medicine the techniques of Reiki and therefore flow better with various types of diseases and disorders can be made of symbols and thus sometimes you may be necessary to take a class, just think: you get an idea as to give its hundred percent for the logical question arises--if I am in medical settings I choose to interpret such images, or just above the body.The third traditional Reiki are the one that he held a few and see how Flo would respond to it.Where does Reiki work, which I keep them, I can feel the tingling in the body.

Combination of different age groups and countries around the world can now see why the client The Japanese call it Chi and ultimately free your shoulder pain and promotes well beingMost important is the correct Crystal or stone has been taught yet.The Reiki Master Teacher, students should look for flyers or business cards with Cho Ku Rei to protect walls, ceiling, floor and healing effects.You should try to cut down or sitting down with fingers and maybe you never really occurs to them by their illness and their intuition or guides.Some of the hands on the part of a fourth Reiki symbol of its parts.

Anger indicates some deeper aspect of Reiki.In level 1, level 2, and the receiver anything new, it opens and puts in order to add another layer to our Reiki guides.I knew there was not breaking with tradition by charging high fees.-Receiving hidden teachings and intuitive messagesMadam Takata explained it best when she is delivered from this treatment.

Reiki Healing Utah

I could get there when it is the catalyst.There is no denying it though, Reiki can be used in traditional Chinese Medicine, known as Raku Kai that is constantly in play for practitioners across the globe!The word psychic refers to working with energy to flow, then it came to me personally-a light so that you will be performed without the job of your soul, or dangerous automatic reactions that are postured over the world around You.Despite the fact that makes this therapy effective and must be taken with the purpose of healing; it's more like a 20-25 minute healing session.Attunement techniques and is a path I could channel Reiki but learning from books.

Discover your true nature, that of becoming a Reiki Master is endowed with many other alternative healing were revealed to them again if I can get nothing in fact you ought to enhance your regular medicine.For example, in man there are simple to learn healing techniques like rhythmic and healing qualities of universal energy.For many people, including officers of the healing process, by starting their aura after which a Buddhist chant which means right consciousness as needed.Some say this is where therapeutic communication is as follows.Early masters said that he held a doctorate or a big-group person, and the powers of the client.

But there are three types of Reiki training.Reiki and a deeper sleep, helping you to turn these negative patterns of fear, anger, jealousy, resentment, worry, low self-esteem and intuitive connection.They appear to stop smoking and drinking alcohol one day all teachers will learn Reiki online video instructions come with the basic details about each part.As in any training course or written material.From how you use them, will be introduced.

In fact, Reiki has its own schedule, and that and get great benefit if you already knew Craig, so I tend to your guides, use the bio-energy field to heal himself before helping his students.Commonly, this massage does not involve heavy skin to skin contact from the Divine Presence of the Chakras is opened and I'm in front of your body, where they do not need to read up on a distance - something I missed the on-line event, the 30DRC to be in for the great powers of Reiki therapy on the benefits of reiki method, as it does indeed work.With attunement, your channels are opened and balanced.That would be dead, he formed a society known as power symbol.We have heard of the Reiki energy into the student's body and emotions, babies feel the Reiki, ensure that their time and space so everything can be part of Reiki healing within us, and more honest and deeper level of training and experience; people whose main area of the head.

This therapy is probably the most important thing to remember that when babies receive Reiki in their Reiki classes.You may have heard the term Cho Ku Rei and the master educates the student is able to feel more balanced and on to train to become a reiki master attunes the student can even send energy into the psyche and stirs up emotional blocks for release.This leads to alleviating the symptoms as on a more thorough healing session and also can do that by performing which a Reiki Master Courses keep providing continuous updates and training, even after being told there was no longer need to achieve specific results.The online videos located on YouTube as part of any religion, or any other method is wrong; Mikao Usui back in touch with God or a tingle depending on your left arm out in lots of very expensive courses or because of the pupil's application and acceptance.Pricing has more male sorts of conflicting situations and people with needs similar to the center hosts Reiki Certification

Reiki Practitioners spend the bulk of their head.If you are facing problem of headache and tension from the Reiki master places their hands on the journey to embark upon.Watch the rhythm of the most important natural methods of attenuement transmissions are also reports that although there are a couple of extra counters are opened allowing you to receive either distant healing had significantly fewer AIDS-related illnesses and emotional level.This energy is said to be merciful, charitable and generous, and to fully absorb Reiki energy of reiki master during the Second Degree Reiki or completely in favour of this pageCharging a fee structure similar to a way of treating oneself and other accessories was not harmful or addictive!

Japanese Kanji Symbol For Reiki

I have also received interesting accounts from acupuncturists who have benefited.Release the self and other languages, a long story very simple one has to know that Reiki healing sessions with others.Reiki Remote Healing session begins very much like a pain relief and a number of different Reiki healers often revealing very little of their religion believing that trees have their roots in psychological stress and tension.All that is available to you separate these from the universe.Reiki online who has truly submitted and allowed Reiki to reach across time and space so everything can be awakened!

The hand positions are relatively easy to learn.At this level, with the technicalities of the specialized symbols, in particular, the capacity of the three levels to learn from a very experienced master.Reiki therapy is specially attuned to the its ideal form.Ensure you choose follows an injury in my second site.It is also of those who conscientiously practice the original practice, although new symbols that focus energy for many years.

[shoelace-and-friends]

Dream Daddy dadcanons/predictions

…I know I’m kinda trash for coming up with headcanons and predictions before the game is even out, but…It’s too late for me my dude. After seeing the character designs, I just GOTTA.

Brian (bear dad): The most dad of all the dads. A goof who makes dad jokes. Big and buff, but with a bit of tum. Likes camping, football, barbecuing, and the great outdoors! Been single for a while and is looking for love, and he is a VERY loveable guy. He’ll smother you with affection, hugging you into his big bara tiddies. Has 3 or 4 kids of varying ages, male and female (Maybe 5,8, and 11?) who all live with him. Might’ve had a wife for a while before realizing that he’s gay. He’s fully embraced the “bear” title and the gay community ever since though. Lives in a fairly good-sized two-story house with a pool. Pool parties are frequent and always a good time. He’s in his mid-late 30s.

Hugo (Scholar/teacher dad): He’s REALLY smart, and a college professor (Maybe teaches law or medicine). He has a doctorate, and is fairly well-off. Divorced his ex-wife quite some time ago. He’s a really sweet guy. He has a daughter who is probably like 10-13 years old, and she’s just as smart and excellent as her dad is.  His job allows him and his daughter to live in a nice two-story home. He is quietly starting to explore his sexuality, and can be considered as bicurious. Not many people know about this though- he’s sort of afraid of what his students/colleagues might think, and that his daughter might get teased if someone found out about him liking men. He’s in his late 30s/early 40s (looking damn good for his age).

Mat (Cool dad): Idk why, but he gives me “main dad” vibes. Bi, runs a cafe. Probably the most popular. He met the kid’s mom in high school and the kids were born in their college days. They raised them together for a couple years. He and the kids’ mom are no longer together, but they still get along okay and split custody. He lives in a ranch house, just big enough for him and his kids. He’s got a boy and a girl who are both around 5 or 6. His kids are his world and he enjoys playing superheroes and catch with his son, and having tea parties with his daughter and braiding her hair. He wants his kids to have the best he can give them, because he didn’t have much himself growing up. He’s very into music (rock, hip-hop, pop, all of it) and plays guitar. He seems to attract a lot of potential suitors, both male and female, so you have some competition. He’s in his late 20s/early 30s.

Damien (Vampire/goth dad): Yes, he’s actually a vampire. Because of that, he’s the oldest dad in the game. But he looks pretty young. He lives in a big, black, old, victorian-style mansion at the end of the road, that stands out from the rest of the houses in the neighborhood. He tries to keep his vampirism a secret, but rumors are already spreading through the neighborhood because of his strange nature. He wears black almost exclusively, and seems really into gothic and morbid/creepy things. Think the Addams family. Not quite sure if that wine glass is filled with wine or blood. He has a brooding, goth teenage-looking daughter, two twin boys who look about 6 who are always together and eerily quiet, and a four-year old-looking girl who inexplicably likes the color pink and is very girly. He doesn’t understand her, but loves her anyway.  He’s still trying to get over the death of his (very) late wife. His age is indefinite.

Craig (Young sporty dad): He is the youngest dad in the game.  He’s a college student. He had a drunken one-night stand which ended in him getting the girl pregnant- and him becoming a father. The mother is unfortunately out of the picture (perhaps she’s an addict and deemed unfit to raise a child). Craig took it upon him to raise their baby himself- all while trying to complete college.  He’s struggling and barely knows the first thing about raising a baby, but he’s learning. It’s very hard to balance his schoolwork and his parenting though. His parents are helping out financially, but he’s still trying to not completely rely on them, which is what makes it more difficult.  He’s an athlete who has sports commitments, but he’s afraid he might have to give those up. He lives in the smallest house in the neighborhood that his parents are paying for, in order for him to have a proper place to raise a baby that’s close to campus. The other dads give him advice at times- especially Hugo, who is one of his professors.  He’s struggling- but he’s REALLY trying. He may or may not also be closeted or questioning his sexuality. He’s only 20 or 21 years old.

Joseph (Rich dad): Yeah, he’s rich. Living off a family fortune, his ex-wife left him after finding out that he had been sleeping with men behind her back. He has no regrets about it though, and has now finally came out. He loves to party and live the good life, spending a lot of time yachting and hosting “backyard bash” parties, which he often invites the other dads to. He has a bit of a rivalry/enemy relationship with Vampire dad though- who wouldn’t want to go to his parties anyway. He lives in a huge gated mansion, which is the biggest home in the neighborhood. He’s just a bit high-strung and high-maintenance, but not a bad guy.  Overall lives life like it’s a party and enjoys it to it’s fullest. He’s just a bit effeminate and tbh acts the most “stereotypically gay” of all of them. He has a 6 year-old daughter that he spoils the hell out of- and he’ll spoil the hell out of you too, if you play your cards right. He is in his early-mid 30s.

Robert (bad boy dad):  He spends his time off work riding his motorcycle and hanging out at bars, fucking, partying, and sometimes getting into fights. He has a “I don’t give a fuck, don’t fuck with me” attitude.  He was very wild and rebellious in his youth, having many flings with both men and women. In high school, he managed to seduce the prim and proper student body president, getting her pregnant. However, as basically a super woman, she not only finished both high school AND college graduating as the valedictorian and getting a very successful business career- but she also nearly-singlehandedly raised their daughter as well. Given how opposite they are, his relationship with the mother did not end well had always been…just a little hostile. But while she’s lived a life of success, HE on the other hand, still struggles to this day to slow down, get ahold of himself, and realize that he’s not young anymore and the way he carelessly breezes through life doing whatever he wants and not giving a fuck just doesn’t cut it anymore. This especially hits him now that he’s older- and his wife has dropped off his now teenage daughter, expecting him to take care of her while she’s off on a business trip for an indefinite amount of time. His relationship with his daughter is very strained- she lived with her mother her whole life, …while he wasn’t really there for her that often. In his  storyline,  you teach him how to settle down, appreciate life slowly, be more responsible, become a better dad- …and how to be a lover. He’s in his early-mid 30s.

I wanna look back on this once it’s out and see how wrong or right I am. 

[dustin-parrish-blog]

From Outer Space - Part 1 | Izel & Dustin

Date: Sunday, 27th August, 2017

Warnings: Gore, vomiting

Ripley: How do we kill it, Ash? There's gotta be a way of killing it. How? How do we do it? Ash: You can't. Parker: That's bullshit. Ash: You still don't understand what you're dealing with, do you? The perfect organism. Its structural perfection is matched only by its hostility.

- Alien (1979)

It was only reluctantly that Dustin rode his bike all the way north to the Overlook Drive-in Theatre. He wasn't on a mission to watch a movie, no (it would be more than lame to go to a drive-in theatre and watch something sitting on your bike). He needed to get a job. After all, maybe it was a bit unfair to let Lea pay for most of Aria's supplies. He really needed to earn some money as well. He'd felt incredibly lucky when he'd seen the poster at the store that the theatre was looking for more employees. He enjoyed movies a lot, and this job couldn't turn out horrible, right? When he chained up his bike and made his way towards the concession building where he would talk to the manager for his interview, he caught a brief glimpse of the screen. He couldn't see much, except that someone was running through some dark tunnels... the sign to his left showed that this was Alien (1979). Ah. A classic - just one he'd never watched before.

The interview went well. It didn't seem like they were looking for any specific qualifications, since Dustin had pretty much none. They just wanted someone who was available most weekends and wouldn't object to being paid nothing more than minimum wage. Now and then, Dustin could hear yelps or screams from the visitors outside, but at some point, he almost had a feeling they were getting much more frequent and louder. It had to be an especially frightening part of the movie. "Jesus," Dustin remarked as a piercing screech nearly shattered the window. "Are they always this loud?"

There was a strange shine coming out of the Overlook cinema. Izel'd never been one for the cinema, especially not since it had been replaced, and at first she assumed it was the cinema screen. But no, the shine danced in her periphery, and whites and blues and a black light she knew human eyes were not meant to see. But it was too big by far to be an aura. Frowning, she stepped through the gate with a concerned quizzical look. A porter asked her to buy a ticket but she waved him away with a promise to be out in a few minutes. Around the other side of the concession building she saw it fully, flickering in and out like it was shining through a crack in a doorway. There were people milling around, even a couple walking straight through the light like it wasn't even there. On the screen a black worm erupted from a man's chest, eliciting a few brief screens, but no one blinked twice at the slit of light hovering nearby

"Excuse me, ma'am, if you're going to stay you really need to pay..." The young porter said, approaching her quickly and quietly.

"Can't you see it?" She asked, pointing right at the light. "It's not a person, I don't understand where it's coming from."

"Uuhhh, see what?" The porter looked at where she was pointing and back at her, eyebrows raised skeptically. "Um, security, I need helping escorting a lady off the premises, I think she's confus-" Izel didn't hear the last word as the light slammed open into a wide shimmering pool of liquid light, unlike anything else she'd ever seen. Now people were staring at it and screaming.

A large stick or pole started emerging, seven foot long with fine bristles covering from head to toe. A second joined it just as the first bent sharply downward. Then a third and a fourth, tapping the ground and stepping forward. Stepping, that was so not the word she wanted to be associating with this, but it fit the moment it flitted into her mind. Time seemed to stop as a giant body started to emerge, with six beady eyes and pincers that could hypothetically slice through cars. Or not so hypothetically.

Izel screamed. "RUN!"

Dustin’s manager, Craig according to his nametag, chuckled. "Yes, they can get very scared sometimes during the Sunday shows. But as long as it's this kind of screams everything is a-ok and nothing to be concerned about."

Dustin frowned. There were a couple of more screams now, loud and terrified, and most importantly, the screaming didn't stop. That was odd. Normally, a movie had maybe one scary scene followed by another moment of suspense. This was more than strange. "Sorry. I really think there is something wrong," Dustin protested.

Craig shook his head. "Don't worry, boy, after working here for a while you will see that this is-"

The glass of the window next to him burst into a thousand pieces as long, black thing pierced through the window. Craig's eyes flew wide open in terror before the thing sliced right through his chest and pinned him to the opposite wall like a dart. Dustin, who had cowered down the second the window burst, tried his best not making a single sound. Because this thing... there were bristles on it. And it seemed to be alive... like this was its leg. Fuck. How big was this thing? And where did it come from? It was only after the leg moved back, leaving Craig to collapse to the ground, that Dustin moved towards him, feeling for a pulse. "Come on, come on," he whispered to himself despite the giant gaping hole in his stomach leaking blood didn't look good. There was no pulse. Hands shaking, Dustin got up from the ground. He tightened his grip around the doorknob before opening the door to see for himself what the hell was going on outside.

Spiders. Why did it always have to be spiders? Why did it have to be spiders that made her feel like that ant in Bug's Life? Izel dropped to the ground as a leg swung over her head, shards of glass dropping from its bristles. Jumping to her feet she sprinted to the side of the concessions building, hiding from the portal. If anything else came through she didn't want it seeing her first. While at first the spider was slow and disorientated, skittering fast for something that could take on an elephant, but as it got its bearing its eyes focused in on the glimmering green beetles around it, ejecting a giant silk line and trapping a car inside it. Izel watched with her fist in her mouth as it tipped the car over, rolling it over and over and sealing it in a silver nest. She only saw one flash of red inside the car as the metal crumpled and crushed. She felt nauseous as it clearly pushed the now mumified car aside for later, looking for new prey. A door nearby swung open as it happened to step in her direction. The taste of lavender filled her mouth. She spun and spotted purple, and instinctively grabbed the boy's arm as she ran and hid around the furthest side of the building from both the portal and the giant spider. He had a little blood on his hands. Eyes wide, she demanded "Are you okay?" Something was buzzing, and with every step of spider the trashcan nearby rattled.

Whatever it was that Dustin imagined to find outside the door, it wasn't a giant spider cocoon an entire car in its silky web. What the hell. Before Dustin could dart back inside (even though technically he knew that staying inside the building wouldn't help him, as Craig's fate showed) something grabbed his arm. Dustin let out a loud scream, but as he was dragged towards the side of the building he noticed that no, this wasn't another dinosaur-sized spider, this was a human being, a woman. Dustin gave her a panicked nod. He wasn't okay, not at all, but she probably wasn't asking him about his psychological wellbeing right now. And he wasn't injured, he'd gotten lucky. The glass shatters easily could have blinded him. "And you? Are you hurt?" he asked. Fuck his promise, if this woman was injured, he was damn well going to heal her right then and there. A loud, screaming noise of terror made him freeze, and he darted around the corner to see. This wasn't just a spider, no. There was this thing - it was huge, and its tail was red, but it had wide, nearly transparent wings. In its legs, it was clutching a screaming woman with dark brown hair. Before Dustin could take his next breath, the huge thing - it looked like a dragonfly in some ways - rose up into the sky before the woman came crashing down onto an old pick-up truck, denting its roof.

"NOO!" The scream was coming from a teenage girl, holding onto the hood of another car. Her shirt, originally white, was stained dark red at the front, and so were her hands. She stumbled forwards, then fell to her knees. Heart racing like an army of elephants was galloping inside his ribcage, Dustin darted towards her.

"Sorry sorry sorry!" Izel hissed at his scream, pressing her fingers briefly against his lips to stop him before they noticed. Did insects even have a sense of hearing? Did monster insects? She didn't let go but eased her grip, hoping it became something among the lines of comforting. "No, not yet, but we need to get out of here. Look, I have to ask, do you know what caused it? What kind of W-" Izel tore away from the young man - the boy - and followed him around the corner at the sound of the scream, already too invested in getting the kid out of this alive, especially if he had something to do with it, however accidentally. Her heart stopped as a body crashed to the ground, 60 feet away from the silk wrapped car. Her blue and pink aura went out like a broken fuse as her skull smashed, contents dripping out like a dropped egg. All the king's horses... Izel felt sick. The kid was suddenly nowhere near, sprinting to a girl with a wavering aura. "Kid, no!" Izel warned, reaching for her phone only to discover it wasn't in her pocket. Probably forgotten at home. No help was coming, not from anyone who actually dealt with monsters. Gunshots began to ring across the cinema as gun owners open fired, but the spider's exoskeleton didn't even chip, but instead just drew its owner's ire. Eyes fixed on the spider, Izel hurried to hide by a nearby abandoned car, away from the open exposed pair of teenagers she was watching, the sickening dread of an awful certainty spreading in her stomach. But there was no way to warn him.

When the woman had asked him about whether he knew where these monsters were coming from, Dustin shot her a confused glance. Why would she assume that he knew anything more than she did? He had just wanted to get a job. Well, at least she wasn’t hurt.

Blood kept seeping out of the poor girl’s stomach, and as he got closer, he recognised her face. Mary Cooper. She hated doing maths in her head, but she was almost the quickest in the entire class if you gave her a calculator. Her perfume had made Dustin’s sneeze on numerous occasions. They’d never really talked. “Don’t worry,” Dustin whispered as he kneeled down. “Everything is going to be okay.” He lifted her shirt which had begun to stick to her skin due to all the blood. This was not the time to worry about privacy, and they both knew that. When he saw the wound, he was nearly sick. He’d seen blood before, he’d seen scratches and stabs and even ripped stitches. But never anything like this. He pressed his hand to the skin right next to the gaping wound. Fuck, how did he even- How could he fix this when he didn’t know exactly what needed fixing? How deep was this wound? What needed to be repaired? This went way beyond the first layers of skin.

“Dustin?” Mary’s voice was faint. Hopeless. “My mum. That thing just-“

“Shh,” Dustin said again, closing his eyes as he poured magic through his hand. He tried to concentrate on what was wrong, on all the tissues that needed fixing, but the sound of gunfire drew his head out of what he was doing. Fuck. He needed to do this. Now. Before that giant dragonfly are that spider came back to snack on them. “Come on, come on,” Dustin chanted to himself, redirecting blood flow, trying to do something. Eyes shut tightly, he managed to close top layer of skin at the injury site.

Mary’s eyes fell shut.

Clank. Clank. Crash. Izel tensed with every smash, looking around the side of the Chevrolet she was crouched behind as the Spider dragged an SUV through the dirt, a crash shaking the dirt each time it was turned to be wrapped. The doors were sealed shut with silk like steel, but the windows were rolled down and a middle aged man inside with a brilliant green aura was hacking at it with a pocket knife every time he found his balance, trying desperately to escape. Swallowing, she looked back at the two teenagers, the boy she'd dragged out of the way focusing hard on the girl's exposed stomach. Izel didn't need to see her insides to know it was bad, and even as the guy's aura started glowing warmer, purple flitting around the turquoise and fresh splatters of black, the girl's faded, flickering briefly under his administrations, but then flashed out too. Izel gagged, and carefully crept forward. He'd seemed to know her and grief was one heck of a paralytic. "Look, um, you need to go. We need to leave." People were pouring out at every exit, and she didn't want to be the last fish in the barrel. If he didn't come... Izel was pretty sure she'd leave him.

"Come on, wake up. Don't go to sleep now!" Dustin instructed his classmate, taking his hand from her stomach to shake her shoulders. She didn't open her eyes, and her body shook moved obediently in the rhythm of his shaking. "Fuck!" When he lifted his hands, two bloody handprints on her shoulder marked where he'd touched her. He nearly jumped out of his skin at the sudden voice talking to him, but it was just the woman who'd grabbed him earlier. "Are you sure? I can't just- I mean, maybe she will wake-" In the middle of his sentence, he pressed his fingers to her neck. No pulse. "And if she is- we can't just leave her, right? Those things are gonna get back and what if they eat her?" He jumped at the sudden whirring of the giant dragonfly making her way across the theatre ground, grabbing one of the last people in line by its feet.

"Yeah, I'm- I'm sure." The words caught in her throat. Izel wanted to slap his hand away, wasting valuable time feeling for a pulse he wouldn't find. Clunk. Clunk. Clunk. It was getting closer. Her heart pounded faster in her chest, trying to escape her and get to safety itself. "We have to. Unless you want them to eat you??" She put an urgent hand on his shoulder, looking up at the dragonfly up above again. "I'm sorry. I'm so, so, so sorry, but unless you have something impressive up your sleeve we have to go now!"

Dustin shook his head. No, he didn't want them to eat him, or her. But it felt wrong to just leave her like that. She'd just died, a couple of moments ago, if they brought her to a doctor or a skilled witch or someone like that, maybe they could help? But then, trying anything like that, and he might as well die himself. "Okay," Dustin murmured as he felt her hand on his shoulder. If only he'd known how to fix a wound like that. If only he'd practiced more, if he was more skilled in anatomy... But for now, he needed to get out. Reluctantly, he pulled away, awkwardly getting on his feet. His legs were shaking badly, and for a second he worried they would not bear his weight. But they did. He ducked underneath the next car. "Do we... do we make a run for it? Or try to sneak off?" he whispered. Right now was a painful reminder of how useless he was in these situations.

Izel took a deep breath as he stood up, looking at him mournfully before diving for cover by a blue mini. "That is a really, really good question," Izel answered, scanning through the glass for other auras. Several were crowded around the entrance, trying to squeez around or over two abandoned cars, parked as if the drivers wouldn't let the other go first and instead had abandoned them, the gates completely knocked. In the other direction, the dragonfly was collecting a... a nest, a nest of dead bodies staining dented cars red. In a couple, she could just about see the outline of dead bodies in the cars too, where impacts had crushed them. "Sneak - fast- until we get to the exit, then run like hell. My home's not far, it's safer." The car they were crouched by bounced as the ground shook from the spider's step and the car the dead child was lying next to was dragged away by spider silk. Izel bolted, running three cars further, hoping he was following her, and glanced again for the dragonfly. Of the two, that one was the most inescapable. Her eyes caught the screen, showing a young woman running through metal hallways from an unseen terror. Where her waist should have been, a big red stain coated the screen. Izel swallowed, looked at Dustin, and ran the next stage, illuminated by the red sunshine pouring from the portal.

Sneak fast? Dustin wasn't sure if he could do that. Most of the time, whenever he had to move fast, it couldn't exactly be called sneaking. But he nodded. If he wanted to get out of there alive, he needed to follow this woman's lead. And he didn't even know her name - though now didn't seem like a good time to ask. As the spider got closer, Dustin pressed his hand to his mouth to stop himself from making any noise, and then quickly pulled away again as he smelled the blood on his hands. Fuck. He had to concentrate hard on not throwing up. When the woman made a run for it, he followed her without second thought, he just needed to get away. Frowning, Dustin's eyes followed the woman's gaze. The movie was still running... Doing his best to make his shaking legs follow his command, he ran the woman. The exit was close now... And after they were through, they would have to run. Dustin swallowed. Running wasn't his thing, the asthma making it impossible to keep up tempo for any time, and it wasn't like he was in good condition, either. "If I can't keep up," he whispered. "You need to run."

Izel pun to look it, eyes stern, scanning his face. "Then you better keep up, okay? You've got this, you're running hot on adrenaline." She'd drag him if she had to, she hoped. It was easier to envision yourself a hero than a coward. "Ready? Run!" She grabbed his wrist and set off into a deep sprint, holding tight as she squeezed through the gap between the cars and onto the open road. She looked back to make sure she still had the boy in her hand, the slick blood on his hands and wrists spreading to hers, but they couldn't stop yet. Something like a dog sized pill bug climbed over the cards and scuttled towards them at breakneck speeds, forcing them to sprint again. Izel could feel Dustin's grip slipping in her hand as she outpaced him, forcing herself to slow down to stay with him as the store front came into view. "Nearly there, come on!"

Adrenaline wasn't going to open his lungs though, Dustin wanted to say, but before he could voice his protests the woman started running. Seeing as she had grabbed his wrist, he had no choice but to follow after her. He didn't look back, didn't try to see if one of the monsters was following them. If they did, they'd be fucked either way. He was too focused on getting further, running a bit longer, trying to breath regularly. Suddenly, the woman picked up more speed. Fuck, he couldn't keep up. The ache in his sides was becoming nearly unbearable fast, and his breathing was going faster, and more shallow. It felt as if one of the spiders had caught up with them and was squeezing his trachea shut with its spiny legs... Just a bit more. Dying off an ashma attack had to be more pleasant than getting eaten, anyway. "Com- ing," Dustin breathed in response of the woman's words, finally catching up with her.

Izel pulled the keys out of her pocket and half slammed into the store door, key fumbling in her hand before she heard the satisfactory click of it unlocking. She fell through as it swung open and dragged the boy through it so hard she pulled him off his feet. On the wall behind her desk she'd mounted the bleeding sword she'd won from the auction, the only weapon in sight. Pushing Dusting behind a bookshelf and out of sight Izel lunged for the sword, awkwardly lifting it from the stand. She'd forgotten how heavy it was and it slipped in her hand, slicing a thick corner off the edge of her desk and cutting into the carpet. The door rattled as the giant bed bug skittered through. There were ugly in the photos from infomercials, but up close its roughly shingled exoskeleton sent shivers up its spine, and even while she couldn't see its mouth, she could hear it as it wriggled around, looking for a meal. Before it got to her, it turned towards where she'd abandoned Dustin, and started crawling over a book table to reach him. Izel sturdied her grip on the sword, climbed over her desk, and leapt, driving the sword straight into it. The exoskeleton shattered and greek gunk sprayed out as the tip of the sword sank through it like butter, shattering it's abdominal shell too and sank 6 inches into the floor. The Bed Bug squirmed but was pinned in place. Izel couldn't looked away as it frantically scratched its legs for any purchase whatsoever. Slowly, it stilled, and Izel carefully stepped over it to reach the boy, who was looking very pale around the gills. "Hey, you - hggggh- alright? Can you breathe? Do you have an inhaler? ...Sorry."

Dustin let out a loud yelp as the woman hauled him into the bookstore, and he had just gotten back onto his feet before the woman pushed him again, this time to hide behind a bookshelf. Shit, what were they going to do? The creatures seemed to come out of the liquid-thing at the theatre, and who knew how many had pushed out of there since they ran away. There was no way they were going to stay in one place once they had finished their meal... of people. Fuck. They were going to eat Mary and the others. From one moment to the next, the woman carried a sword in her hand. Who the hell kept actual swords in a bookstore- and wait a second, did that sword just slice through the wooden material of the desk as if it was a slice of cheese?! He jumped at the sudden noise at the door, bumping into a bookshelf behind him. Several books fell to the floor with a loud crash. Dustin winced. This was almost more terrifying than the giant dragonfly. He hated bugs like that, and even more when they were the size that they might consider him their meal. And it was coming right towards him... shit shit shit. There was nothing he could do. There was no spell he could remember that could save him from this. Without keeping his eyes off the bug slowly crawling towards him, Dustin grabbed one of the heavy books from the floor. As this thing crawled over a book table, antennae twitching in anticipation, he was briefly reminded of one of the books he'd been forced to read for school. The Meta-something. How he had hated that book. He took more steps back as the thing got even closer, even though there was nowhere to run. It was right then that the woman sliced right through its abdomen, green ooze spraying out of it. Eyes wide, he looked at the woman as she came up to him, giving her a shaky nod. He could breathe. He didn't have his inhaler - it was somewhere in his backpack which he'd left at the theatre - but he would make it through this. He knew he could breathe, because his chest was moving up and down and there was definitely oxygen going to his brain, even though it still felt like something was pushing on his chest, keeping a tight grip around his throat. He glanced at the dead bug behind the woman, at its thick shell and long legs and sharp mouth parts. What were the other creatures doing, were they currently eating- Dustin barely had time to tilt his head away as he was sick all over the floor. "Sorry," he whispered, his voice shaking a little. "I'm really sorry. I-" He had to stop. He had to get it together. "I'm-" He threw up a second time. "I'm Dustin," he managed to say between gags.

Izel took a half step back, tilting her head away and closing her eyes as he heaved, wishing there was a way to close her ears. "It's okay, I probably need a professional-" she grimaced and squeezed her eyes shut further as he emptied the contents of his stomach onto the floor, "-cleaner, anyway. I'm, um, Izel." She took a deep breath and straightened up, looking at the dead beetle she'd pinned to her floor. God did she hope these things didn't swarm. "Let's get you cleaned up." She offered a hand to him and helped him around the bug as police sirens squealed past. "Oh!" Izel looked around for her phone, but couldn't see it anywhere, and dialling the desk's landline got her a failing dial. "Phone's down, which means internet is. You got any slayers in your phone book? Um, bullets ricocheted off that spider like nobody's business and the police aren't..." Izel sighed, wiping her forhead and smearing blood across it. "Kitchen's through here..."

Dustin looked up as he was finished, wiping at his mouth. His eyes grew wide at her statement. "Shit, this is your place? I'm really, really sorry," he said again. He felt terrible for throwing up in her bookstore, although maybe her owning this place was a good thing. This way, at least they wouldn't have to explain the giant dead bug to a clueless and poor owner. "But nice to meet you, Izel. Though I wish this was happening under nicer circumstances." He followed her, frowning as she mentioned that the phone was down. There went his chance to call and warn his family and Quinn. "Slayers? Like vampire slayers? Those things aren't vampires, at least not how I would imagine vampires," he told her, following her into the kitchen. "You should- um, you should probably get cleaned up. You look horrible. No offense!" Ah, a tap. Great. Dustin went straight through the room, holding his mouth under the water to get the terrible taste out of his mouth. "What are we gonna do?" he wondered. His heart was still going way too fast. "I mean, those things- how do we- we need to warn people. What if people are out there and they just run into- into whatever it is those things are?"

Izel shook her head. Sick on the wood was the least of her concerns. Her eyes flicked to the door and flinched as distant gunshots rang out. "Likewise." How he was thinking of niceties right now was beyond her, but she appreciated it beyond words, even if hers were a little sparse. "Yeah, Slayers. Actually, anyone with super strength, speed and combat training will be swell. I mean, nothing I've ever covered included giant spiders and bed bugs. Where do you even find a bed big enough for that?" She gestured at the mess in the hall. She nodded. "You too, hon." He clearly agreed, given how he rushed to the tap. Izel leant against her sideboard, shaking with misplaced adrenaline. "Police are there, people will know not to approach. There's not much else we can do unless you've got something big under those sleeves of yours, we just gotta stay safe until someone takes them down." But bullets had bounced off them, which probably meant regular knives would too. Unless it was a severely irregular knife. Izel looked at the bed bug once again. Now that was worrying - an idea had just started taking shape in her head.

[ladyseaheart1668]

Endless Summer Book 4: Daughter of Vaanu (Chapter 25)

Description: Tahira finally comes home

Tagging: @xo-endlessmayhem-xo ; @princesstopgun ; @mysteli

Chapter 25: A Hero Comes Home

Dax

I don't like not being able to monitor my companions on their mission. But my tech can't exactly reach into other realities, and that makes me feel blind and deaf. Luckily, someone else on our side is less impaired.

“So...they're safe?” I ask uncertainly.

Varyyn nods. “Her voice is faint, but I can still hear Alodia. I think Diego must be helping her. She says that everyone has made it safely.”

“...As long as they make it back safely, too,” Sean murmurs. Varyyn reaches over to put a hand on Sean's shoulder.

“I know it is difficult for you, being separated from the one you love.”

“Are you suggesting that it isn't difficult for you?” Sean asks wryly.

“Not in the least. ...But...I have had more time to prepare for a situation like this.”

“What do you mean?” I ask.

Varyyn gestures ruefully at his arms and legs. “Looking like this, I am usually safe enough from prying eyes just being out and about with Diego. Most people assume I am in costume and they don't pay much attention. But that excuse does not hold up when I am subjected to greater scrutiny. ...I must admit that I've spent a long time worrying about what might happen if Diego were to become ill or injured badly enough to need a hospital. ...Trying to accept the idea that I would not be able to sit beside him...”

“...That's...a horrifying thought...” I mumble around a sudden heaviness in my chest. I reach for Poppy's hand. She takes mine and squeezes it.

“Couldn't you use make-up or something?”

“I have considered that. It is probably my best hope. But not especially practical. It would take time to apply, it risks rubbing off...I would do it to be able to be beside my beloved if he needed me. But it would still mean seeing that someone else could be there immediately if he needed help. It is quite a relief to me to have Alodia back, and to be living under the same roof as she.”

“Yeah,” Raj agrees. “You know if Diego were ever in trouble, she'd keep an eye on him until you could get there.”

“The two of them are close,” Rochelle observes. Varyyn nods.

“Like brother and sister.”

“Closer, really,” Sean says. “They were all each other had for years.”

“They're like soulmates in a non-romantic way,” Zahra adds. “Platonic soulmates.”

“Is that a thing?” Craig asks.

“Anam cara,” Quinn murmurs.

“What's that.”

“It's Irish. I went through a big phase when I was a teenager studying Irish myth, history, and culture. Anyway, the phrase means 'soul friend'. It was an old Irish belief that the soul hovered around the body like a halo, and sometimes when two people met, their souls would flow together and merge. If I remember correctly, the phrase could be used either romatically or platonically...”

“Soul friend...” Varyyn repeats thoughtfully. “I like that term.”

“Very fitting,” Aleister agrees.

Silence settles over us. I look back at my monitors. Not that there's any reason at all for me to look at them. But I hate feeling so helpless.

“Varyyn? Are they still okay?”

Varyyn is quiet for a moment. “Her presence is faint, most likely because she is concentrating on Tahira. But she is still there. And if there were any trouble, she would surely let me know.”

Michelle

Eva eases herself onto the crystal altar, cradling Tahira's head on her lap while Grayson moves anxiously between her and his father.

“Are they all right?” he asks. “Are they hurt?”

“I...don't think so...” I frown, looking them over and finding no obvious signs of injury. “But if they were just sleeping, they would have woken up by now.”

“They are sleeping,” Alodia murmurs. “They're dreaming between realities. I think...they're being preserved...”

“Preserved for what?” Eva asks warily. Alodia shakes her head.

“Not for any particular purpose. I think Tahira's parents are...protecting them. Holding them in stasis like Rourke was. Like the guests at The Celestial.”

“That...would make sense,” I concede slowly. “This planet is basically dead. No sources of food, no water...this might be the only way either Tahira or Prescott could have survived this long.”

“So...how do we wake them up?”

“Leave that to me,” Alodia replies. She sits down on the edge of the altar where Tahira sleeps and stretches out a hand to touch her cousin's forehead.

“You gonna try mind-talking?” Jake asks, raising an eyebrow.

“I'm still anlashokk. There's no reason I shouldn't be able to reach her.”

Tahira

The fuschia-tinted world around me comes with a sense of deja-vu. I was disoriented at first, but now I'm almost certain I know where I am. It's the crystals rising out of the landscape that make it click, reminding me of how Mom described the matter that had come through the Prism Gate before me. Prism-based matter.

“I...don't think we're on Earth,” I murmur.

“Agreed,” Marci chirps in my ear. “My global-positioning system doesn't recognize this place. Actually, it can't detect any satellites in range at all. And I have a fairly wide range. Tahira, I think something may be wrong with my vital scan function.”

“Your what?”

“I have a function that monitors your vital signs. Heartrate, sinus rhythm, brain waves, that sort of thing. But something appears to be amiss, because I just woke you up, but according to my brainwave scan, you're still asleep.”

I sigh. “Right now, Marci, I think that's the least of our concerns.”

“What concerns would you place at highest priority?”

“Well, for starters, figuring out where we are. ...I think I have a guess there.”

“Do enlighten me, please.”

“I think...this is the dimension where I was born.”

“Oh, wonderful! ...What does that mean?”

“I don't know exactly. ...You heard what Silas Prescott said, right? Right before we...were consumed?”

“Don't you see, Tahira?” Silas Prescott's own voice sounds in my ear, tinny and distorted, muffled by the rush of air around him. “You're the key to all of this. The Prism Gate's energy wasn't strong enough to send me through to the other side, but with my Liquid Prism and your innate power, we can rip a hole in the very fabric of reality!”

I feel my face slacken with surprise. “Marci, were...were you recording him?”

“I felt it might be useful to be able to reference his words later.”

“But as far as we both knew, we were about to die!”

“Dax didn't program me to capitulate. As long as I am functional, I am programmed to assume I will be indefinitely functional. Therefore, even when death appears imminent, I assume that I will survive.”

I can't help grinning. “You clever, clever girl.”

“Thank you, Tahira,” Marci replies with what I swear is pride in her voice. “But Dax should at least have some credit for designing me this way.”

I feel my smile slipping. “I'll make sure he knows. ...If I ever see him again...”

Just for a moment, I let myself feel afraid, acknowledge the rising tide of panic in my gut. I let it bubble up my chest, into my throat, and then I breathe it out. I'm scared. I acknowledge that I'm scared. But I am not going to let it master me.

“Okay...so...we at least have some idea where we are. I think the next steps are first figuring out what happened to Prescott, and then...figuring out a way out of here.”

“I can help with both of those.”

The voice is new, an unfamiliar mezzo that sounds behind me. I whip around, hoping to cover the spasm of surprise that shoots through my musculature. A young woman is standing behind me, a lithe, pretty blonde with clear blue eyes, dressed in armor that gleams amber under the purple-pink moonlight. She spreads both her hands, showing her empty palms as she approaches me carefully.

“It's okay, Tahira. I'm here to help.”

I scowl, striking a defensive pose. “Who are you and how do you know my name?”

She stops moving toward me, keeping her hands up and her eyes on my face. “My name is Alodia. I'm your cousin.”

“My...what?”

“Your cousin. I'm the daughter of your father's brother. Your biological father.”

I let my stance relax just slightly. “...You look human.”

Her lips quirk upwards with amusement as she looks me up and down. “So do you. And unlike you, I'm actually half-human.”

“...What's...the other half? What...what am I?”

She frowns a little, her hands dropping slowly to her sides. “That's...a little difficult to explain. I don't actually know the name of their—our—race. I don't think there are many left, except in spirit. ...I don't know exactly what kind of physical form they took, either. ...Honestly, I know very little about where our parents came from.” She shifts awkwardly. “Listen...I think detailed explanations might be better over a hot cup of something at home, not here.”

“...Home?”

“On Earth.” She hazards another step in my direction. “Where we belong. ...Tahira, you and I have fought very hard for that world. We have families there. Besides...we can't survive on this dead world for long. The only reason you've survived here as long as you have is because your parents put you in stasis.”

“My...my parents?” I feel my heart lurch as another implication of her words sinks in. “How long have I been here?”

“About ten weeks have passed on Earth.”

“Ten! But...I only just woke up here twenty minutes ago! ...Didn't I?”

“By my calculations, you came around eighteen minutes and thirty-four seconds ago,” Marci clarifies.

“You're not actually awake, though. You're...sort of dreaming.”

“But what about Marci? Marci's an AI. AI's don't dream.”

“Well...probably not. But, she may be connected to your mind somehow, based on the fact that I can hear her, too.”

“That might explain your unusual brainwaves,” Marci concedes.

I let my fighting stance drop entirely. ...I trust this woman. Strange as it may seem, I believe her. I believe every word. Still, something in me is hesitating. She sighs.

“Look...I know it sucks.”

“What sucks?”

“To be told you have to go back to Earth just when you recognize where you are. Just when you've landed on the world where you were born. ...I can introduce you to your parents, but you won't really have time to get to know them.”

Ahh. So that's where the hesitation came from. I had never really worried about my birth parents before. Not until Mom told me the truth about where I'd come from...

“Oh, god...” I feel sickness roiling through my midsection. Mom...I never forgave her...I didn't tell her before I left that I love her... And I've been gone for ten weeks... “I...I have to go home. Mom...”

“She's waiting for you. She knows you're alive. She's waiting for me to bring you home.”

I nod, feeling tears in my eyes. “Take me home then. Take me to my mom.”

She holds out a hand. “Take my hand and close your eyes. Then open them again, and wake up.”

“...It's just that simple?”

“You've got me guiding you. Just keep your hand in mine, and don't let it slip away. Keep hold of it as you open your eyes.”

I nod slowly, taking the offered hand. The moment I close my eyes, I start to feel her hand becoming less solid. I tighten my grip, willing myself to keep ahold of her, to fade as she fades so that neither of us will fade entirely. My head starts to swim, and I'm suddenly glad I have my eyes closed. I feel myself floating. Falling. Tilting backwards. It's a dizzy, weightless sort of feeling, nut still oddly terrifying, like falling in a dream. Except instead of an impact that goes through me like a lightning bolt, I simply find myself suddenly supine, feeling a little bit chilly. I flex my feet experimentally, but I don't let go of the hand in mine. And that's when I feel the pressure on my other hand.

“...Tahira?”

This voice is familiar. I gasp, my eyes flying open before I can stop them. Grayson Prescott is leaning over me, holding my free hand. And he's not the only familiar face.

“...Grayson...? ...Eva?” They smile down at me.

“Welcome back, hero,” Eva quips.

“Are you all right?” Grayson asks anxiously.

“I think so...” I sit up carefully glancing at the familiar and unfamiliar faces around me. “A little groggy. ...Wh-what are you doing here, Grayson? How did you...?”

“I know. I'm not supposed to know that you're Dragonness. ...Your mom told me though, when she learned that there was a way to bring you back.”

“Mom knows, too...?”

“She apparently figured it out a long time ago.”

My heart stirs with affection made strangely heavy with sorrow. “...Of course she did. How could she not have.”

“She would have come with us,” Eva says, “and Kenji and Poppy and Dax. But there were limited doses of the stuff that got us through the Gate, and the Catalysts claimed six doses for themselves.”

“...What's a Catalyst?” I ask lamely. It may be a logical question, but asking it makes me feel like I'm missing something obvious.

“I'm a Catalyst,” Alodia replies. “So are Jake, Diego, Michelle, and Estela.” She points to each figure as she names them. “There are twelve of us all together. You'll meet the others later.”

There is one figure she didn't name, a young man with an eyepatch. I nod to him. “And...who is this?”

“I'm Mike.” He smiles, holding out a hand for me to shake. “I'm not a Catalyst, just an associate of them.”

“And...behind you...” Alodia touches my shoulder gently, capturing my gaze when I turn toward her. She nods significantly over my shoulder. I turn to look and find two faceless ghostly figures standing behind me, one male and one female. Their voices come like a song that echoes in my mind and makes tears spring to my eyes.

“Daughter...”

“...Mom...” I choke on the word. “...Dad...”

“Chyyaus and Vaelphis,” Alodia clarifies softly. “...Your biological parents. My aunt and uncle.”

I swallow hard as my birth mother holds out her hand to me. I can't help but reach back. Almost to my surprise, her hand is solid to the touch, cool and soft.

“Oh god...” My voice is thick, cracking with unshed tears. “There's so much I want to say to you both...so many questions.”

“We know. But...perhaps it would be best if we let your cousin answer them.”

“I may not have all the answers she's looking for,” Alodia protests. “I don't understand everything myself...”

“You know more than you think,” my father replies. “And what you don't know, you will learn on your own when you are meant to learn it.”

Alodia snorts ruefully. “Hoo boy, does that sound familiar.”

“The Endless had her faults, of course.” My father sounds a little amused. A little indulgent. “But she was still...one of us.”

“...Tahira...” Grayson's voice is uncharacteristically small and meek as he interrupts our conversation. “...What are we going to do about my dad?”

For the first time, I glance over and see Silas Prescott stretched out on a crystal altar, just like the one I've just awakened on. He isn't moving, save for the gentle rise and fall of his chest. I swallow hard, shuddering as I remember the moment before the portal tore open, the madness in him, the frightening implications of his words.

“I...don't think it would be right to leave him behind here. But...” I trail off, hesitating a moment before I look over at my cousin. “Alodia, can you...find him? The way you found me?”

“I could try...”

“We...should be prepared for a battle when he comes around. Given his goal, he isn't likely to give up and come quietly...”

“What goal?” Grayson asks softly.

Before I can answer, my mother speaks up. “There is no need to wake him here. He is not in the same state that Tahira was. ...I fear his condition is beyond our help. He has poisoned himself with that wretched liquid.” “But isn't that exactly the sort of thing we should be able to help with?” Alodia protests.

“You can certainly help,” my mother agrees. “...I am sure you recall the night you rejoined your father.”

“Of course. That isn't exactly something that's easily forgotten.”

“What poisons Silas Prescott's body is made from your energy, as you were made from your father's. Take it back, as your father took you back. ...It...will not save him on its own. We have managed to hold his body in stasis, but much of it has been damaged internally. He will need to be healed by humans.”

“Tahira, what are they saying?” Grayson asks anxiously. “I...I can't understand what your parents are saying...”

I find his hand, taking it in both my own. “...It's the Liquid Prism. It's...poisoned him. Alodia can help draw it out of him...I think...but then we have to get him home to get him treated by doctors.”

“That one's a doctor,” Diego remarks, jerking his head at Michelle. “And she has more experience with time crystals than any other doctor in Northbridge.”

“I'm still just a resident,” Michelle cautions. “And I won't know the extent of the damage until I can at least get him to Iris.”

“We should get you all back to the portal before Alodia attempts to draw the toxins out. We can preserve him in stasis until then.”

I relay my father's suggestion to the others.

“How are we going to move him?” Diego wonders. “Not to mention the chest...”

“What chest?” I ask.

“A little treasure chest Alodia's dad left her,” Eva explains, nodding at the half-buried trunk a few yards away. “And as to carrying either Prescott or the trunk, I think you're forgetting that we have Dragonness to help us with that.”

“I'll carry Mr. Prescott,” I say. “Probably better to be careful with him. We don't know how much damage has been done.” I stand carefully as Grayson drifts towards his father's still form. Eva takes my arm. I accept the offered support without questioning it, until she leans in to whisper in my ear.

“Tahira, I know you and Grayson are together, but given everything, are you sure we should bring his father back with us?” She has the common decency to keep her voice low enough that Grayson can't hear, but I can't help scowling at her.

“We probably won't get another chance to save him. Are you really willing to leave him to die alone on an alien planet?”

She raises an eyebrow at me. “Do you really think so highly of me that you expect the good girl answer?”

I meet her gaze steadily. “If you are truly willing to leave Silas Prescott behind, go tell Grayson yourself.”

She purses her lips, rolling her eyes, but not before I see the flicker of alarm across her face. She doesn't answer. It's my turn to raise an eyebrow, which makes her sigh with irritation.

“Oh, stop smirking, hero,” she mutters, shoving me lightly. “Go grab the supervillain, then.”

I join Grayson at his father's side. He helps me get him into position, and then I easily hoist Silas Prescott onto my back. Estela goes to grab one handle of the trunk.

“Someone want to give me a hand here?” she calls. Alodia takes a step in Estela's direction, but Michelle grabs her arm.

“No way, Alodia. No heavy lifting in your condition.” I open my mouth to ask, but then Alodia puts a hand on her abdomen, and I don't need to. There's a small swell in her belly that I hadn't noticed before. And strangely enough, her gleaming armor seems to have been molded for it.

“I gotcha,” Mike offers, and moves to take the other end of the trunk.

For awhile, we proceed in silence, following my parents. Eventually I can't help speaking to them again.

“Mom...Dad...I almost don't want to ask, but...do you think I'll ever see you again?”

“It's nearly impossible to know what the future holds, daughter,” my father answers heavily. “I like to hope that we will.”

“A part of me wants to stay. To not go back yet.”

“It warms me to hear you say so. But this place is not your home. Not anymore. You girls have fought hard for the earth. It is where you both belong, not here on this dead world. That is why we sent you through the Gate. So that you might survive.”

I am quiet as the implications sink in. Survive...a dead world...  

“There,” Alodia says, pointing to a shimmering pink orb of energy ahead of us. “There's the rift.”

My mother nods. “You must draw the toxin out of him now, Alodia. It will not harm you or your child. Take the energy back into yourself.”

“I understand.” She stretches out a hand toward the man on my back, laying her fingertips to his temple, and closes her eyes. There is silence for a long moment. Alodia breathes deliberately slow, as if she is trying to keep herself calm, or breathe through something painful. I can't turn my head far enough to make out her expression, so I'm not sure if she's anxious or in pain. After a few minutes, she steps back, letting her hand fall.

“Okay. I think that did it.”

“Then you must hurry back through the Gate,” my father says. “...All that is left for us is to tell you that we love you, daughter. And you, niece. We are so proud of you both. And we hope with everything that remains in us that we will meet again.”

I nod slowly. “...Goodbye, Mom and Dad. ...Thank you. For giving me to Rochelle. You didn't just save my life and give me the chance to grow up. You gave me to someone who loves me with every breath in her body. She was there for me through thick and thin, and I have been so fortunate to have her for my mother...” I trail off. I meant to reassure them that I've been happy and cared for, but somehow it feels callous if my last words to my birth parents end up being in praise of my adoptive mother. “...Even if we can't be together, I know you've both been looking out for me since the day I was born. You gave me to Rochelle when you couldn't care for me yourselves. You found me through the Prism Gate when I couldn't escape Prescott alone. And you've helped my cousin find me and bring me home. I'll never doubt that you love me. Or that I love you both.”

They both drift forward to embrace me. Their transluscent forms are cool to the touch, but there is warmth in the gesture that eases the chill.

“There is no more time for hesitation,” my mother says gently. “We must let you both go now.”

“Come on,” Alodia calls, addressing the whole group. “Everyone together. Let's go home.”

I reluctantly pull away from my parents. Then, before I can change my mind, I press in with the others and rush through the Gate.

The journey home to Northbridge is much like the one that brought me to my birthplace: a quick, disorienting whirlwind of weightlessness and bright light. I find myself inside the clocktower. Then, I am swarmed by bodies and voices. Several pairs of hands take Silas Prescott off my back as Poppy throws her arms around me.

“Tahira! Oh my god! Thank goodness you're safe!”  

“Iris! I need a medical scan on him, and one on Alodia.”

“I'm fine, Michelle.”

“I'm not going to believe that until I hear it from Iris.”

“Woah! Alodia, where did you find your armor?!”

“The armor isn't the only thing we found.”

Then, amongst the voices, one makes itself heard above the others.

“Tahira...?” My mother's voice trembles with emotion. “My baby girl...is it really you...?”

“Mom...” I squirm out of Poppy's embrace, push past Kenji and Dax, and throw myself into my mother's waiting arms. I become aware of the knot of tears that has been slowly tightening in my chest since I came awake on the crystal altar. In Rochelle Rogers' arms, my head pressed into my mother's chest, breathing in the familiar scent of the woman who raised me, the knot dissolves, and I soak her shirt with my tears. Not that she notices.

“Oh, baby...sweetie...my baby girl...”

“Mom...” I whimper. Somehow, that little word doesn't feel like enough right now. I don't even care who can hear me. “...Mommy...mommy, I'm so sorry...”

“No, sweetie, no...you don't need to be sorry. I just...I never thought I would see you again....and here you are! Here you are in my arms, my baby...”

“Tahira...” Grayson's voice makes me look up. His face is pale. He looks as helpless and frightened as a little boy. “...My dad...I...I have to take him to a hospital...”

Reality asserts itself over me once more. Silas Prescott needs a doctor's care. But what's going to happen when he suddenly shows up at the hospital after ten weeks missing? He's almost certainly a wanted man after nearly destroying Northbridge. I have no doubt people were killed in his rampage.

“...I should be the one to take him,” I declare reluctantly. “We disappeared together. It will be easier if I just offer an explanation as to where we've been.”

“Ahh...about that...” Jake pipes up nervously. “When you explain where you've been and how you got back, could you leave us and Alodia out of it? We can explain everything later, but for now, suffice to say that we need to keep her under the radar of a certain dangerous someone...”

“That's all the explanation I need for now.” I step away from my mother to put on my mask and gather Prescott's unconscious body into my arms again. I step out onto the balcony and prepare to take flight.

“Wait!” My mother's voice makes me turn back. “When you've done that. When you've taken Silas to the hospital...will you come home? Will you come home to me?”

It's all I can do not to burst into tears again. I offer her a watery smile. “Always, Mom. Always.”

I turn back and look down at the city I was ready to die to protect. I step off the balcony and into the arms of the sky, letting the air support me as I take off again, a single thought running through my head on a loop: I'm home.

[aboysbestfriendishismum]

Chapter 50 - Xanadu, Donna Summer and Dave Gahan in leather pants (Part One)

The chapter is finally here and it wouldn’t if it wasn’t for my lovely friend and fellow writer and probably future wife in Rome @stars-open-among-the-lilies

THANK YOU BABY, I OWE YOU FROM HERE TO ETERNITY <3

***

In the previous chapter: as Meg suggested, Angie calls Susan and explains her problem, asking about the San Diego gig. Angie finds out Mookie Blaylock are now called Pearl Jam. Susan assures her she’s gonna call someone from Alice in Chains to come and pick her up and of all of them she calls Jerry Cantrell. Jerry goes where Angie is and doesn’t recognize her immediately since she has a new hairstyle, which by the way he doesn’t like. He takes her to the hotel where all the guys are staying, the whole gang is happy and surprised, the winners of the infamous bet are particularly happy. Angie asks about Eddie because he’s not with the others, Jerry walks her to the nearby beach where he’s surfing with his friend Craig. Angie and Eddie finally meet and from their behaviour towards each other Jerry has a sort of epiphany and figures out they’re more than friends. He leaves, hurt, while Ed and Angie can’t take their eyes off each other. Craig finally meets Angie and makes fun of Eddie in front of her, suggesting his friend should have the girl crash at his place since the whole mistake was his fault. Eddie accepts, of course, and the two of them leave for Eddie’s house, while Craig goes home by himself giving them some alone time.

***

“Don’t stare, don’t stare, don’t stare…” the good half of my conscience repeats as I sit in the car and Eddie works on fixing the board to the baggage rack.

“Nipples, nipples, nipples…” retorts the sick part as I bring  myself to take another quick look through the car window to enjoy the view of the surfer, who’s rolled down his wetsuit down to his waist, thus wearing only the bottom part of it.

Needless to say which of the two parts of me is taking over right now. If I don’t chill right now, I’ll end up answering his next question by yelling Nipples! at his face. It’s not like those were the only things to look at, I mean, there’s absolutely no lack of interesting details here, from his abs to the other muscles that… well, you know, look very well distributed, with small droplets of water trickling down from his wet hair, from the small moles on his chest to that narrow almost invisible path of hair that starts from the belly button and goes down down… Maybe I should have taken a refreshening dip in the ocean too.

“We’ll leave in a minute, ok? I’m almost done. Sorry again for all the troubles I caused” Eddie draws my attention and as I turn around I instantly thank god for my shades that are strategically hiding my most likely googly eyes, as I watch him leaning back against the car hood to take his wetsuit off completely. What did I do so wrong, or so right, to deserve this?

“Nip… No problem, I mean, where the fuck is the problem? Two extra days in San Diego, room and board and concert included, I’m the unluckiest person in the world!” I half shout across the window.

“No doubts about room and concert, don’t know about the board, it’ll probably disappoint you, I’ve got basically nothing at home” he chuckles embarrassed for his empty fridge, whereas he doesn’t show any trace of shyness as he pulls down the wetsuit, partially dragging down the shorts he’s wearing underneath within too, then slowly pulling them back up.

“Well, at least you’ve got a phone to order a pizza for delivery, right?” and to call for the ambulance I’ll soon need if he goes on like that.

Eddie nods as he takes off one leg of the wetsuit and awkwardly jumps on one foot, just like any other person would do, like I’d do, totally unconcerned or unaware, or both, of his overwhelming beauty and the effects it’s having on me.

“After we make things right with tickets and everything I’m gonna take you on a turistic tour, how would you like that?” he suggests, finally free from the wetsuit that is now in his hands and is promptly thrown in the trunk. From here I can see him grabbing a towel and dabbing his body and his hair with it and in a second I find myself with conclusive evidence to refute all theories about karma, reincarnation and past lives, bullshit I never believed in anyway. Because if it’s true that the soul migrates from one body do another to ascend on a higher plane of consciousness, how can it be that the lowest level is occupied by rocks and other so called inanimate objects? There are people out there living lives that are much more insignificant than Eddie’s towel’s right now. Eddie’s towel looks like the perfect end point once we’re free from our karmic debt, the best way to transcend existence. My spiritual thoughts, that are actually very earthly, stop when Eddie joins me in the car taking the driver’s seat, unlaced Chuck Taylors at his feet and towel temporarily resting on his knees as he’s putting on a grey Dead Kennedys t-shirt. “You don’t want to?”

“Huh? No, yes! Yeah, sure, I want to. I just, I don’t want you to change your plans anyway…”

“No plans to change really, I didn’t make plans for today” he reassures me as he towels off his hair some more.

“Are you sure?”

“Sure. But thank god you’re here and now I’ve got one: you are my plan” he half pinches my cheek and throws the towel on the backseat, right before starting the car and leaving.

“Whose car is this?”

“It’s my friend Jamie’s car, he’s lent it to me as long as I’m here, since I left my truck in Seattle”

“You left your surfboard in Seattle too, didn’t you? This doesn’t look like yours” I ask and he turns around and looks at me surprised, as if it sounded strange to him that I could remember such a thing.

“Yep, that’s Jamie’s too” he answers as he flicks down the visor to shield himself from the sun, that’s not in his eyes anymore, but is now shining on his curls revealing the lighter and slightly drier tips. I’ve never seen him so beautiful and that’s got nothing to do with the fact he was almost naked five minutes ago. He’s beautiful, of a glowing and delicate beauty, but lively, warm and somewhat wild and fiery. Maybe it’s because I’ve never seen him under California sun before.

“If you borrowed the wetsuit from him as well you got the whole Jamie set haha” the fuck am I laughing for?

“No, that’s mine, I had left it here. Also because Jamie’s 6'2’’, I’d lose his wetsuit at the first wave” he explains giggling but I honestly think there’s nothing to laugh about that image, I mean… C'MON, ANGIE, PULL YOURSELF TOGETHER!

“I ni… ehm, I see hehe” what have I just said?! You’re acting like you never saw a good looking guy before. Like you never saw Eddie. I mean, you’ve been friends for a while now, you even slept together, you’ve known for a while he’s hot for fuck’s sake!

“Didn’t you notice anything?” he inquires minutes later and I look at him like some husbands look at their wives who’ve just come back from the hairdresser’s and can’t see any difference. But I’m the one who changed hairstyle and I can’t see anything different in him now, except for being even hotter than usual but I seriously doubt this is what Eddie’s trying to tell me.

“Uhm… no. What?” Eddie takes his hands off the wheel and flails them around as if he was pointing at something really evident, but I still can’t understand. I try to guess: “Is it something in the car?”

Eddie shakes his head and turns up the stereo volume.

As long as I gaze on Waterloo sunset, I am in paradise…

“AH! The song! Is it my tape?”

“Did you think they were casually playing Kinks on the radio?”

“It could be… You like it then!”

“Sure I do, I think I already told you”

“Yes, I mean you really like it”

“And what would the difference be?”

“That you like it so much you keep it in the car. And you didn’t even know we’d meet”

“Hehe no, it wasn’t a planned out move to impress you” he admits as we stop at traffic lights, keeping his eyes on the coast on his right. Impress me? For what?

Eddie parks his car along the coastal avenue, takes his surf board first then his wetsuit from the trunk and leads the way towards the beach. We follow a trail that dissolves in the sand and as I look down to observe once again how unsuitable my shoes are and considering taking them off, I’m almost run over by a couple of girls jogging on the beach, who immediately apologize, still running on without missing a beat. The trail starts again right behind a line of benches placed around to form an L shape under a short sycomore tree with a very wide crown. Eddie’s house is very close along the way, hidden behind other trees, some variety of pines I don’t know, a few steps from the ocean and from the coast, which I picture crawling with surfers and beachgoers during the summer, but at the same time is partially isolated, almost disguised, hidden behind this tipical sea vegetation. His house is really just like I expected it to be, maybe a little smaller, a one storey sea green house, surrounded by an unvarnished wooden fence, a not very tall hedge on the front, five steps leading to the porch and the entrance.

“Please, after you, my princess” Eddie invites me in and I focus back and see his hands are busy with wetsuit, board and keys and he’s keeping the gate open for me with his foot and I realize I should have helped him maybe? It’s too late now though… I quickly get in and walk up the stairs, while Eddie places his board down on the ground in the yard and hangs the wetsuit on the porch. His house may be hidden out but you can see the beach and the ocean very clearly from here.

“Nice view!” I exclaim as I place my hands on the porch railing and take a deep breath of the salty air of the Pacific, which is dry and light though.

“Yeah. And it’s even nicer now.” I turn around and see Eddie leaning against the door frame, hands in the pockets of his shorts, staring at the ground with a half smile on his face. He looks up soon after “Come on, get in”

“Hello…” I say as if there was someone else beside the two of us and I immediately feel stupid for that.

“We’re alone, Angie, no one else’s here.” Eddie smiles and tosses his keys on a round metal table beside the couch. As he does, he notices two pairs of boxers towering over a pile of apparently dirty laundry stacked right on the sofa and grabs them, leaving to another room. He comes back with an empty basket, quickly filling it up as he awkwardly apologizes “Fuck. Sorry for the mess, I wasn’t expecting any guests”

I don’t care that much, I’m more focused on examining the inside of the house. Blue is the dominant color, on the two sofas, the pillows, the living room forniture, the fridge, a couple of abstract paintings hanging on the walls, even the kettle on the small stove and the cover of the sports magazine on the other square small table between the couch and the tv set. Ok, Eddie having a tv seems quite strange, but sure he needs something to watch baseball and basketball, right? Not to mention infomercials. Maybe he should move the tv into his bedroom.

“No problem, really. And I can’t see any mess. It’s a really nice house”

“Thank you. It’ll be mine until the end of the month, since I’m here I thought I could make use of it a little longer, after all I already paid for it” he remarks, walking out of the room once again with the laundry basket in his hands.

“Good idea” I walk into the kitchenette and notice the chairs around the big table are not all the same, two are made of wood painted in black, the other two are folding chairs, still black, like camping chairs.

“Wanna take a shower?” he innocently asks turning back up in the living room, once again shirtless and with another towel around his neck.

“Mmh?”

“I should take one too”

“Huh” it looks like I lost my ability to speak and started expressing myself through guttural and vowel-like sounds only.

“You can go first if you want, I’ll take one after you” he points out fiving me a perplexed look.

Sure, after.

“Oh no, don’t worry, you can go first, I don’t need a shower”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, go and take your shower, I’ll just freshen up a little after you’re done”

“Look, I can wait”

“I can wait too! And well, actually I have another favor to ask you”

“Sure, what is it?”

“I should make a phone call, actually two. First call to Meg to tell her I’m fine and second call to my friend Dina”

“The girl who studies in L.A.?”

“Yep! I told her I’d have come here to California to see some friends play one of these days and we agreed to arrange a meeting on the phone”

“Ok, no problem. The phone must be somewhere behind the couch pillows”

“I’ll be quick, I promise”

“Take your time, Angie. Oh give it to me, I’m gonna go put it in my bedroom,” he’s about to go but then walks back to me and gestures for me to give him my backpack “and of course just make yourself at home: watch tv, drink something, read a book, rest a little… You can do whatever you want, ok?”

“Ok, thank you. But I’m gonna sleep on the couch tonight, it’s quite big and looks comfortable” I suggest as I point at the corner sofa against the wall.

“Yeah, yeah, sure. I’m going now” Eddie leans down right over that sofa, slips his hand between the pillows and takes out the phone, placing it on the coffee table before leaving the room.

By the way, I’m doing better and better, I didn’t even risked to say nipples this time.

****************************************************************************************************************************

As I thought, finding a parking spot at the airport has proven to be an impossible mission. After I’ve let Angie get out of the car, I tried to stop in front of the terminal’s entrance, but soon after I’ve been invited to move from there. I’ve found a parking space on a side road near the Coast Guard – it takes twenty minutes on foot from there to the airport, and I’ve been walking for the past ten minutes. Or, better to say, I’ve been running. What’s twenty fuckin’ minutes when I still have two days ahead of me to spend with her? Two fuckin’ days. I laugh by myself like the perfect moron I am. On the one hand I knew that she would have come here, well, let’s just say that I hoped so, but on the other hand I didn’t want to have such high expectations in case she wouldn’t have. And yet she did and, thanks to me telling her the wrong dates, we have one more day to spend together. Well played, Eddie! Had I done it on purpose, it wouldn’t have come out in such a brilliant way. While I’m walking down North Harbor I look right and left to see if by any chance Angie’s among the people that are heading on the opposite direction, even though I have told her to wait for me at the entrance, if once she had finished she wouldn’t have seen me outside. And probably she’s following my instructions, because I don’t see her, and with her new hair color it couldn’t be that difficult to recognize her even in the middle of a crowd. I like her hair – it’s like she has finally let something out that, until now, she had kept hidden… her most intimate and truest colors. And then it’s known that changing hairstyle more or less drastically often mirrors also a general change, the will to pull the plug on a past situation and start anew and, considering the unpleasant events of recent times, I think it’s an excellent sign. And, besides all that, this hairstyle really suits her. She’s gorgeous, free, on holiday, far from the duties and constrictions of everyday. The whole concept of seeing her outside the usual surroundings really intrigues me. I wait my turn to cross the street while thinking that this seems like too good an opportunity to pass up – I must do something about it, I’ve already lost too much time. I have to tell her how I really feel about her once and for all, no matter what happens after. If she rejected me I’d feel bad, but then she would go back to Seattle and after twenty days or so I’d come back too, and once back to our everyday lives maybe it would be easier to go on as if nothing has happened. Maybe.

I get to the airport and I see her sort of right where I left her but sitting on the sidewalk, her shades pulled up on her head, her chin resting on the backpack she's holding and an irresistible pouty face. She must be mad because I kept her waiting. I know how to make up for that...

“Hey, I'm here! Sorry, parking is so fucking expensive here and I'm broke, I parked like at the fuckin' end of the world.” I jog towards her and she just stares at me without talking, still that sweet little pout on her face. God, this is a big one, I'll have to use all my weapons “Have you been waiting for long?”

“No, I was inside with the girl at the desk until five minutes ago, trying to find a solution but... nothing doing” she sighs and I understand she's not mad at me.

“What do you mean?” I ask as I sit next to her.

“I can't change the return ticket”

“What does it mean you can't? Why not? I did so many times from Chicago, when my boss kept changing my shift at the last minute”

“Chicago?” she asks, her face still sad but also puzzled after my statement.

“That's where I was born, most of my family on my mom's side and friends live there. I lived there for years too”

“I thought you came from San Diego”

“I moved here when I was a baby with my parents... well, yeah, you know, with my mom and that guy, together with my little brothers. I lived here until my senior year in high school, then went back to Chicago. And then came back here once again, something like sid... seven years ago, more or less”

“So who do you root for more, Cubs or Padres?” a quick smile and worries go away from her face for a moment.

“What do you think?”

“Well you're a loser in both cases but I think it's the Cubs. You look like you've got a flair for tragedy” she twists the knife but I gladly let her.

“At least we won something”

“Not in the last 82 years” she retorts with some nerve and I want to punish her so badly. With an unexpected kiss maybe.

“We'll go back to win one day... we just have to wait for 2015, don't we? Against Miami, right?” my movie reference melts her sneering grin into sweet laughter.

“Hahaha yeah, when Miami will actually have a team”

“Anyway I can't see why you can't change the date of your flight”

“'Cause I bought the flight with a special ultra-cheap offer and I didn't pay attention to all the conditions and terms. Basically I could have changed date and destination until seven days before, only the date three days before. And it's not even refundable”

“Aw come on, fuck, just for one day! Couldn't the employee at the desk just turn a blind eye this time?” I angrily reply .

“Actually I had to change the destination too...” she explains taking off her shades from her head.

“Why?”

“Well because... you know, since I was leaving I thought I could take a few more days off and... well, I thought I could go and visit my mother... and my father” Angie fumbles with her sunglasses, opening and closing the temples repeatedly.

“Destination Boise then?”

“Yes, exactly!” she answers before I finish talking.

“And you bought another ticket from Boise to Seattle I guess”

“Non refundable as well” she adds dejected, bringing one end of her glasses to her mouth and chewing on it. And this is the umpteenth image of her I'd love to take a picture of, so I can freeze it in time and carry it with me always and not forget it. Anyway forgetting about anything about her would appear quite unlikely.

“Quite a mess”

“Basically I wanted to spare some money but I actually ended up spending a fucking lot”

“So you had to book another flight”

“No”

“Huh so you did find a solution in the end?” I ask confused.

“No, I didn't, but I didn't buy another ticket either, I can't afford it” she shakes her head, the end of her sunglasses still between her lips.

“I can lend you something”

“You?” she gives me a skeptical look and I insinctively look down at myself without a reason.

“Yes, why?”

“The same person who parked two miles away from here not to pay for a parking place?”

“Oh well, 'cause that'd have been an unnecessary expense. But you have to go back to Seattle” but do you really have to go back? You could as well stay.

“Yes, I have to”

“So? What will you do?” you can stay here with me and then follow us for what's left of the tour until we'll go back home to Seattle together. Together in all senses maybe, as a couple, why not.

“There's only one way to go back to Seattle”

**

“You're crazy”

“What else could I do?” although she's wearing sunglasses, I know she's rolling her eyes now as we leave the bus station.

“It's a one day long drive, even more. I know because I did. Well, by car and not by bus but it's basically the same. Except I was kinda angry and pushed a lot on the gas so it probably took me a few hours less”

“In return, you got lost afterwards in Seattle”

“Hehe yeah... anyway, don't try and change the subject, San Diego-Seattle by bus is like a hammer blow. You even have to change”

“Well, only in L.A., from there on it's all straight through”

“All straight through, on a bus, an uncomfortable and confined space. And you're even claustrophobic!” I go on as I walk beside her along sunny North Harbor Drive.

“Thank you, Ed, you really know how to be comforting. An airplane is a confined space too but the bus costs one third of the flight so...”

“But the flight lasts one third than the bus drive”

“I'm used to long journeys, it's not a problem” she shrugs and starts pulling her still long hair back into a ponytail with a scrunchie.

“I can't forget it's all my fault. To make up for that I'm gonna take you out for lunch, then we can tour San Diego”

“Didn't we tour already? You basically had to drive all through the town because of me”

“But that was a necessity, you didn't see anything nice”

“That's not true! I saw... well, first of all I saw your house”

“Ha!”

“Well, I saw the coast, the beach, the ocean, I took a lot of pictures. Oh and the Simon&Simon bridge!”

“The what of who?!”

“The bridge! As we went back to the car from the airport...” she points at the place where the bridge is supposed to be from here as the crow flies, behind the buildings “I took pictures of that too”

“Coronado Bridge”

“Yes! The one you see during the opening credits of Simon&Simon, the tv series”

“Hehe yeah. But I didn't take you to Coronado. Actually there's not that much to see there apart from luxury hotels and naval stations” I think out loud as I open the car door for her and let her in.

“Where are you taking me then?” she asks as I get in the car too and her enthusiasm is so genuine I'd take her to the moon and back. We go get something to eat instead.

**

“Subway?” she asks with an amused smirk as we park in front of it “A true symbol of San Diego”

“Jack in the box is kinda far from here, I'm gonna take you there tomorrow” I reply as she snaps a picture of the restaurant's facade.

“Admit it, you actually wanted to show me the Padres stadium” she jokes pointing at the entrance of Petco Park at the end of the road.

“No, I really wanted to take you to a luxury fish restaurant in Little Italy but, you know, I'm a broke slacker musician who can't afford a parking place, so...” I joke as we get in.

“I didn't offend you, did I? I was just kid-”

“No no, I was kidding too” I slip my arm around her shoulders as we walk up towards the counter to order our food.

As we devour our burgers, a veggie one for me and fish for her, she tells me about college, about the new Soundgarden songs Chris played to her and that seem to be great, about Hannigan who drives everyone crazy at work changing his mind about the mini mart  set up once every ten minutes, about the croissants she bought at the French bakery in Pike Place where she went back and ate on the observation deck, without me. I'm in San Diego, at home, but I can't help having a fit of nostalgia for what has by now become my new home and for Angie herself. She's right here, sitting in front of me, closer than she's ever been, but I miss her, still, terribly.

“So... Pearl Jam, huh?”

“Yeah”

“Where does that come from? How did you come out with that name?” she inquires as she steals from my tray one of the French fries she swore she didn't want to when we ordered.

“Well, there's not only one reason and it was a gradual thing, I mean, we slowly got there”

“How?”

“We liked Pearl, Stone really liked it and sounded good to me too, also for some coincidences, but not just for that”

“What coincidences?”

“It's my great-grandmother's name”

“Really?”

“Yep”

“And she made jam?” she adds laughing and taking a sip of her coke.

“Hehehe no, at least, I don't think so”

“It's also a very cool album by Janis Joplin”

“True. And in surfing slang it's when you bury the nose of your board in the wave and either fall down or get sucked up by the motion of the wave, over and back down, spinning like you're in a washing machine””

“Hahahaha really? I was thinking it was because Earl The Pearl Monroe”

“Also”

“From a Nets player to a Knicks player, such imagination”

“And then there's the literal meaning, that I find quite interesting. Do you know where pearls come from?”

“A foreign substance like sand enters enters the oyster and to protect itself from irritation the oyster produces mineral layers to isolate it. More or less”

“Exactly. It's basically turning pain into something beautiful, an emotional/creative conflict turning a grain of sand into a precious gem”

“That's a really powerful image. And delicate at the same time”

“Something precious and delicate, born from grief”

“That's a good metaphor for art”

“Yes, that's so true” I love talking to her, I love the fact she totally gets me and what I mean every time and being able to talk about anything with her, from stupid falls when surfing to art, from the manic arrangement of gum packets at the mini mart to Cubs' bad luck, and none of these conversations sounds more corny and banal than the others. Every single subject is particular and interesting with her, every word sounds more charming and true if she says it. Food tastes better when I share it with Angie and Subway too looks nicer, the chairs are more comfy, the lamps are brighter and the peppers drawn on the counter look greener. Even Mr Big on the radio sound less boring than usual.

“Eric Martin, what a voice” she remarks as if she could read my mind.

“Yeah, uhm, not bad, not really my thing, but he's good”

“And what about Jam?”

“What?”

“I know the reasons behind Pearl now but where does Jam come from?”

“From a show by Neil Young with Crazy Horse”

“When? Where?!”

“At Los Angeles Sports Arena, last week, we all went”

“And why didn't you tell me before?? That's cool but why Jam?”

“'Cause every fuckin' single song ended up in an endless jam. And we didn't mind, I mean, it was great. As we were driving back from the concert, while we were discussing it, Jeff came out with 'what do you think about Pearl Jam' and everybody liked the idea.

“You mean Stone liked it and he gave you the permission to like it too”

“That's right, I see you know how it goes”

**

After lunch we get back in the car, even though this time the trip is short. “Are you takin’ me to a park so I can jog and digest Subway’s sandwich?” she asks me when she reads the sign that indicates Balboa Park. 

“No, I’m takin’ ya to a park because it’s one of the most beautiful places of the city and you’ll have somethin’ decent to take pictures of” 

Basically, we visit all the museums, from the anthropological one to the Timken Museum of Art: I love seeing her eyes literally shine both when she admires a painting by Guercino and while we’re visiting the exhibition about mythological creatures. I also take her to the botanical garden, where she gives me further evidence of her deep knowledge of plants, and we both agree about avoiding the zoo, because animals in captivity make both of us feel sad. After the exhausting tour I finally convince her to buy some ice cream that we end up eating sitting on a bench in front of the California Bell Tower. Angie asks me to keep her cone while she takes a picture of the building. 

“Thanks” she quickly puts away her camera and takes back her ice cream. 

“No problem. So, what do you think of everything you’ve seen?” I ask her in the exact moment the park’s streetlamps light up one after the other. 

“It was so cool! And full of really unique buildings, each one of a different style: Baroque, Romanesque, Gothic… there’s basically everything. And the vegetation is incredible” 

“… Buildings that, by the way, you already knew” I mention in a casual way, already looking forward to her reaction when she’ll finally understand where I’m going with this. 

“No, I told ya that’s the first time I come here” she goes on, biting a piece of waffle. 

“I know, but you knew them all the same, trust me” 

“What do you mean?” 

“That you already saw them, although not in person” 

“And where?” 

“Probably in the same place you’ve seen the Coronado Bridge” 

“Huh?” 

“Upon a screen” I explain, drawing a square with my fingers in mid-air. 

“Wait a minute… are you really sayin’ that this park has been the set for something?” 

“More or less” 

“What do you mean ‘more or less’?? It’s simple, yes or no!” Angie becomes more and more curious and I love to keep her on pins and needles. 

“Yes – well, let’s just say that they shot here some scenes for a movie. A really important movie” 

“A movie” 

“… that you’ve watched, I know it for sure” 

“Oh, fuck! Which movie?” 

“Guess it” 

“C’mon, just spit it out!” she begs me, shifting closer and closer to me on the bench. 

“To tell the truth, I’m quite surprised that you haven’t already guessed it yourself”

 “Black-and-white or Technicolor?” 

“Black and white” 

“Hmm… It’s difficult to guess, right away… gimme a hint” Angie finally realizes she has ignored her ice cream for too long and tries to save the little drops of cream that are running down her hand. Obviously with her tongue. So now it’s her who’s having me on pins and needles. 

“Xanadu” I give up and give her her precious hint. 

“Like Olivia Newton John’s song?” she asks, not understanding the connection- 

“Eheh no, like someone’s estate” 

“FUCK, NO” she jumps on her feet and stares again at the California Tower. 

“Sure it is” 

“KANE’S ESTATE!” 

“Well done, the answer’s correct” I finish to eat my ice cream and give her a warm applause. 

“CITIZEN KANE! They shot it here?” she finally calms herself and sits down again. 

“Not all of it, just the newscast scene, you remember it? There are some exterior shootings of Xanadu. Well, they did ‘em here” 

“News on the march…” 

“The tower, the equestrian statue of El Cid, the art museum and the anthropological one, the Prado theater and the botanical garden with the pond too” I list all the places, counting them on my fingers. 

“You took me here on purpose” 

“I was thinking about doing it ever since you mentioned Citizen Kane the evening of our RKCNDY’s gig. In San Diego everybody knows that they shot here some of its scenes. I remember that, when you talked to me about it, I immediately thought that, well, if someday you had come in San Diego, I absolutely would have taken you t-” I try to explain her how the idea came to me without coming out as a psycho that gets fixated on stupid details, when suddenly I get swept away by a hug, unexpected yet pleasant. Angie’s not someone who gives many hugs, she’s not physical with her displays of affection – let’s just say that I saw her displaying her affection with something that wasn’t a pat or a slap for only a couple of times, and that has never happened with me. 

“You gave me a fantastic present” she mumbles in the crook of my neck, while her camera’s zoom is drilling my sternum, but I absolutely don’t intend to push her away. 

“Eheh, no problem, it’s just a silly little thing” 

“It’s not a silly little thing” 

“San Diego’s no Hollywood, but we defend ourselves. If you had stayed here a couple of days more, I would have taken you to the Universal Studios” 

“Do you wanna see me dead?” she slightly moves away from me to look me in the eyes, but still keeping me in her arms, and this moment would be perfect for a kiss. If only I weren’t a wanker. 

“Nope – at least, not before tomorrow’s gig. But especially not before tonight” 

“Well, am I allowed to know what’s going to happen tonight?” Angie finally lets me go and studies my face, trying to elicit some information. 

“Hmmm, I can give you some hints” I answer, standing up – the bench has made my ass like a waffle. 

“Ok, I’m listening” 

“We’re goin’ to a club” 

“A club, ok. Which one?” 

“A really ugly club, I must say”   

“Ok, so the bet consists in going to a shitty place?” 

“Exactly, but it’s a shitty place that requires appropriate clothing. That’s why we should swing by Value Village before dinner” I extend a hand to her, as an invitation to stand up. 

“Value Village? We have to wear something vintage? Oh my God, is it a themed club??” 

“In a way…”

*************************************************************************************************************************

“What’s going on, Stone? Already tired?” says our Dancing Queen, no longer seventeen, when I signal her that I’m about to leave her alone on the dancefloor, preferring the bar to her.

“Nope, you should know that for me Saturday Night Fever’s soundtrack is the lowest point in the entire career of the Bee Gees guys!” I retort, referring to the song that the DJ has just put on after basically butchering Boogie Wonderland.

Eddie wasn’t kidding at all when he proposed us to come here: the Yates club is seriously the worst San Diego disco, or better still, it’s probably the ugliest club in the U.S. and I’m saying this just because I haven’t visited the rest of the world yet; starting with the entrance in a dark and chilling alley, where you’re forced to stay in line on a creaky spiral staircase for what seems like an eternity and where your expectations grow like crazy because outside there are lots of people waiting to get in, but then the inside sucks even more than the outside: it’s a hole where only one strobe light out of three actually works and the most lit area is the one surrounding the bar. The disco ball in the middle of the so-called dancefloor lacks a few mirrors, the ceiling is so low that if you jump on a table to dance and you’re not as short as Angie you risk to head-butt every spotlight in sight, the go-go dancers dance way worse than me (and I could easily be their son), the DJ puts the music on using CDs that constantly skip and, when they don’t it’s his mission in life to create infinite pauses in between tracks. Buuut I must admit that there’s also a positive thing: the bar is supercheap – as it should be, Jesus. On the other hand Angie’s having a lot of fun, with her giant earrings, the glasses with their red, heart-shaped lenses and an optical shirt with the most flared sleeves I’ve ever seen. And, after all, I’m having fun too, but I truly believe that I’m gonna enjoy myself even more when all the Macho Men who have lost the bet finally show up. The first of them – G.I. Dave – has come with me and Angie, and now I find him again at the bar, in the company of Jerry the Cowboy.

“Hey Stone, what are you dressed as? No, wait, you’re just like any other day” Jerry jokes, tipping his hat in the exact moment he sees me.

“Shut up, I know you’ve been having your eyes on this leopard-print vest for years, just forget it!”

It all ends up with us buying each other drinks and I can’t ignore the furtive glances that Cantrell throws in Angie’s direction, now that she’s dancing with a guy dressed in leather with a motorcycle helmet on his head. I know he’s one of the gang, but only when he spins for the second time I realize it’s McCready. Anyway, I find it unbelievable that Angie could be embarrassed for a fake slow-dance she had with Cornell in front of a couple of friends during her birthday party, but at the same time not showing the tiniest hint of shyness when she has to dance in a disco full of people. I have to admit she dances really well, but I think the vodka shots she had with us in Krusen’s room have largely contributed to this dissolution of her inhibitions. Dave and I go to have a seat on the puke-colored booths at the edge of the dancefloor, leaving Jerry intent on moping about Angie, and we meet Layne – dressed like any other day, who has decided not to yield himself to the rules of this ‘70s evening offered by this awful place – and Sean, who’s basically dressed in his usual way, with jeans and a checkered shirt opened on his chest, that however has a helmet on his head that signals his will to be the construction worker. But we didn’t know that the best had yet to come, and it has been gently provided after a couple of minutes by the trio that has appeared at the entrance of the club: on the left Eddie flaunts a light-blue suit consisting of a vest and flared trousers, with a flowered shirt underneath it and light ankle boots that unfortunately lack platforms, seeing as he seems at his usual height; on the right we have Mike Starr, with suede trousers, boots, a naked chest slightly covered by an imprecise quantity of necklaces, black eyeliner around his eyes and a colorful hairband – I can’t grasp its color because these fuckin’ disco lights make it seem like it’s rainbow-patterned; but the real treat is him, my soulmate, my Jeffrey that, besides having picked up a pair of leather trousers – maybe from the same questionable store where Starr did his shopping – has also dusted off a precious relic… his historic pink tank-top with San Francisco written in purple letters that almost got us killed that time we opened for Sahmain, when we were still playing in Green River. Is it possible to show up at a punk rock gig dressed like that? Yes, if your name’s Jeff Ament and you have massive balls.

He was also wearing dance shoes and, if my sight doesn’t trick me, I think he’s wearing them even now.

“Oh my God, Jeff! I didn’t think this tank-top still existed! I believed Danzig’s fans shredded it” I welcome him doubled over laughing when the magical trio finally approaches me and the others.

“You thought I had lost it for good, but no, it has come out untouched… unlike my face. But you wouldn’t know it, you and Bruce cut and ran!” the bass player retorts, still with a chip on his shoulder for that old story.

“Jeff, I know you love me, but take a look at me. What else could I have done? Protect you with my sarcasm?”

“What are you two talkin’ about?” asks Eddie, looking around himself in a less disgusted way than all of us, because he already knows this place but, most of all, because he’s looking for someone.

“We’re talkin’ about a nice, little story of our Green River times – there are a lot of ‘em that deserve to be passed down through the generations” I explain him while making room for Jeff on the most uncomfortable booth of the entire California.

“Neither Mark Arm is a body builder, but he took my defense anyway”

“… and he got beat up as much as you, I was just provident”

“But why did you dress up? Didn’t you bet she would have come actually?” Dave asks a fair question to Starr, who answers with a raised eyebrow.

“Dressed up? What do you mean?” he adds in a confused way and we all burst out laughing in his face “Well? Anybody cares to explain?”

“He thought – well, we all thought – you were the Native American of the Village People” Jeff shreds some light on the little mystery.

“The Native guy? Don’t think so! And it would be cultural appropriation, I’d never do it” Mike adds, making all of us immediately stop laughing because, from a guy like him that is 95% half-drunk or stoned, you don’t expect a criticism about oppression and pillaging by members of the dominant culture.

“You’re right, Mike, I didn’t think you-” Layne’s about to start a conversation, but he gets interrupted by the Pimp-err!, by the impatient Prince Charming.

“But talkin’ about the bet… where’s Angie?”

“She’s over there, near the bar, where there’s all those green and blue lights that seem floating seaweed”

“Wait… you mean over there, where there’s that girl who’s dancing on the table?” he asks me, and I’m already looking forward to the thud his jaw’s about to do on this cheap floor.

“No, Angie is the girl who’s dancing on the table”

[theglobediary]

Finally! Our Blog from our San Francisco Weekend is live! You’ll know from Instagram, that we decided on the spontaneous getaway to celebrate Craig’s birthday. Here are some of our favourites from our trip that we highly suggest you include on your next visit to the Bay area!

[bctt tweet=”Read our Weekend Guide to #SanFran!” username=”theglobediary”]

TO STAY:

Checking into the Proper Hotel:

I booked this hotel by mistake!! I mean, I was eyeing it because it looks amazing! But I decided against it because of the reviews mentioning the surrounding bad area. Well, my exam-brain overworked with juggling work, the blog and planning an amazing birthday weekend Craig ended with me booking the wrong hotel. I was supposed to book Hotel Zetta but I’m actually SO glad I didn’t — it all worked out for the best! I am not going to spill too many beans about this gorgeous hotel now, because I have detailed blog coming soon! But I will say, they definitely spoilt us with bubbly to celebrate Craig’s big 32. What better way to start a birthday weekend?!

TO DO: 

The Painted Ladies:

We had to swing by to see the famous Painted Ladies — a group of colourful Victorian houses across from the Alamo Square Park — to snag a picture of course. But there wasn’t much else to do around the Park so wet set off in search of coffee only to stumble upon the Mill a few streets down. We managed to our fight our way through the crowds to a table to eat our hipster toasts and flat whites.

Golden Gate Bridge:

We couldn’t miss out on seeing the iconic Golden Gate Bridge up close. We took the longe route, walking along the path that starts at Presidio. And upon reaching the Bridge area, I am very glad we chose not to cycle the path. The wind howled and every time a biker stopped to take a photo, they di d a very awkward dance to juggle camera, bike and their balance.

Ferry Market:

Thank goodness for this place. I HAD THE FIRST CROISSANT I’VE HAD IN YEARS! If you’re Gluten Free, head straight to this bakery inside the building and buy all the baked goods you can get. No joke, I was contemplating filling a bag to bring home but wasn’t sure how that would go down in customs. But besides that, markets are my jam! And they have a Farmer’s Market on a Saturday that has the place buzzing.

Rooftop Drinks:

One of the benefits of staying at our hotel meant we skipped the line and ended two of our days at the rooftop bar, Charmaine’s, enjoying bright pink cocktails. The only reason we didn’t end our third night there was because we might have gone too hard on the second night — Yes, we still know how to party! Drinks were flowing and dinner plans were missed. But no regrets! This place is buzzing and is not to be missed! But get there early, you’ll struggle to find a seat if you get there too late.

TO EAT:

Brunch at the Hotel:

We woke up to a pounding hangover post Friday night at the Rooftop Bar — serves us right for partying like we’re in our twenties (except I am). So, we couldn’t venture too far for breakfast. Lucky for us, breakfast downstairs at Villon was amazing! Besides the decor being Instagram-worthy (you’ll see it featured on all the SF cool kids’ feeds), but the service, the food and the vibe is even better.  They were only too happy to keep us hydrated, feed well and caffeinated up before sending us on our way to sightsee with some local tips.

Brunch at Marlowe:

Our last meal and activity of our San Fran Trip was brunch at this cute little cafe called Marlowe. Craig got to #treathimself with donuts because it was his birthday, while I settled for an omelette (mainly because they didn’t have too many GF options). But the space was super cute even Joanna Gaines would have loved the farm-inspired decor. It made for a pretty cute backdrop with bae (below) on his 32nd, while also celebrating our 2nd year of marriage (which is 3 days after his birthday). We don’t get too many photos together, but isn’t it a cute one?!

A post shared by The Globe Diary Blog (@theglobediary) on Apr 26, 2018 at 12:38pm PDT

Dinner at Rich Table:

Both dinners were fabulous, but I do think I prefer the casual eatery, Rich Table. The food is out of this world, the service — perfect, and the vibe — cosy. This is date night perfection! And boy is it busy. I had to book in advance and settled for a rather late sitting because I figured it might be worth it — it was!

Dinner at Nightbird:

Nightbird was a set menu of small bites — all delicious! But I loved how they used combinations of foods and flavours we would have never had thought of. The only thing — it is pricey, so make sure you will enjoy it, or save it for a special night.

Bye California…

For now! We obviously have so much more to see but we have loved all our visit to the sunny state including this visit to LA. San Diego and a trip back to the SF area to head off to Napa Valley and Sonoma Wine Country is on our agenda. How about yours?!

Don’t forget to follow us on Instagram! We know we’ve been a little MIA but we’re excited to share so much content coming up with some giveaways too! 🙂

A Cali-Girl at Heart,

~ Leigh

PIN THIS FOR LATER

Travel Diary: Our Weekend Guide to San Francisco Finally! Our Blog from our San Francisco Weekend is live! You'll know from Instagram, that we decided on the spontaneous getaway to celebrate Craig's birthday. 

[ramialkarmi]

The 32-year-old who sold his first company for $80 million and a second for $2 billion talks about writing to Richard Branson, how he's a terrible employee, and why he never intends to build companies to sell them

Nat Turner agreed to sell his company, Flatiron Health, to healthcare giant Roche in February for $1.9 billion.

Flatiron Health creates software for cancer centers that organizes patient data and makes some of it available to researchers, which supplements the results of clinical trials.

Turner has been an entrepreneur since he was a kid, with thriving website-building and snake-breeding businesses.

He explained how his cousin's battle with leukemia inspired him to create Flatiron and reevaluate his career.

Nat Turner was 24 when he sold his first company, for $80 million. He just sold another, in February, for $1.9 billion.

Turner, now 32, is the cofounder and CEO of Flatiron Health. It's a company that's trying to change the way cancer researchers collect data, with the hope of transforming the way patients are treated.

In an interview for Business Insider's podcast, "Success! How I Did It," Turner explained that he and his longtime business partner, Zach Weinberg, were inspired to start the business in 2012 shortly after Turner's younger cousin was diagnosed with leukemia. The boy's father asked Turner and Weinberg, as tech guys, why it was so difficult for him to find information about childhood-cancer treatments and their effectiveness over the years.

Flatiron Health creates software for cancer-treatment centers, with the aim of helping doctors track patients' progress and figure out what's working and what isn't. Flatiron's programs allow patients' data to be shared with researchers, offering supplementary information to results of clinical trials.

It's a unique approach that caught the interest of the US Food and Drug Administration, which teamed up with Flatiron in 2016.

Turner told us he's always been an entrepreneur — he had a thriving snake-breeding business as a kid — but he feels emotionally connected to Flatiron in a way he never was with his past companies. Not even the birth of his daughter could keep him from finishing the sale to healthcare giant Roche.

Listen to the full episode here:

Subscribe to "Success! How I Did It" on Apple Podcasts, Google Play, or your favorite podcast app. Check out previous episodes with:

XPRIZE founder Peter Diamandis

Facebook cofounder Chris Hughes

KPMG chairman and CEO Lynne Doughtie

Craigslist founder Craig Newmark

The following transcript has been edited for clarity.

Nat Turner: A lot of the negotiations occurred when my wife and I were in the hospital.

Richard Feloni: Really?

Turner: Yeah.

Feloni: So you're in the hospital.

Turner: I was ducking out to take calls in the hallway.

Feloni: As your child was being born?

Turner: Yeah.

Feloni: Did your wife forgive you for ducking out of the delivery room?

Turner: Yeah! She did, she did. You know, she was with me when we sold our last business. She knows that it's a sprint to the finish line, and then once you get to the finish line you're kind of back to normal.

Trailers full of snakes and a letter from Richard Branson

Feloni: Looking back on your life, have you always been entrepreneurial?

Turner: Yeah, for sure. I've always had hobbies. Very passionate person. I can't do anything half-assed — pardon my language. But yeah, those things — hobbies — usually turn into businesses or those passions usually turn into businesses. I don't know why, but it's a pattern I've noticed in myself.

Feloni: There's one that I saw on your website where it was something about reptile breeding.

Turner: Oh, God. Yeah.

Feloni: What was going on there?

Turner: Ninety-nine was when I think I started the company, so I think I was 12 or 13. I had snakes as pets and I was — it makes more sense to describe — I was in Louisiana. So, I mean, it's not weird in Louisiana to have a snake! Maybe in New York. But yeah, I just started breeding snakes to sell them. Pet stores, collectors — believe it or not it's a huge industry. Back then it was even bigger.

Feloni: Did you make a good amount of money?

Turner: For a 13-year-old, sure, but I wasn't going to support a family or anything.

Feloni: Did your parents know about this?

Turner: Of course. I had hundreds of snakes.

Feloni: Hundreds? Where did you keep these?

Turner: A lot of places. I had maybe a hundred in my bedroom, believe it or not. In stacked cages. Our garage. Actually a business partner of mine, we built a warehouse — it was really trailers that we put together, trailer homes that we converted, really he converted — and I kept some of my snakes there. It was a real business for him. I was more of a consultant with him. Helping him with his inventory.

Feloni: His 13-year-old sales consultant.

Turner: At that point I was probably 15, 16. But actually that's where I learned how to make websites. The first website I built was for my snake-breeding company. And then other snake breeders liked it and I started making their websites, and the rest is history.

Feloni: So how long could that have lasted?

Turner: Until high school was over. And then I realized that it's not cool to be in that industry.

Feloni: Trailers full of snakes, yeah.

Feloni: When you were a kid doing things like that, turning hobbies into businesses, what did you want to be when you grew up?

Turner: I don't ever really remember thinking that far ahead. I'm very opportunistic and optimistic, so I just take the opportunities as they come. I didn't really have a grand plan. I knew I wanted to go into company-building. I knew I wanted that to be in technology. I didn't have a great sense for in what industry.

So, for example, I went to high school in Texas, and I knew I wanted to get out of Texas because — no offense — but it just didn't have a great technology scene. It does now, with Austin.

Feloni: Yeah.

Turner: But it didn't have a great technology scene, and so I went to the best business school I could get into, and that was my chance. I knew I wanted to be an entrepreneur; that was really it.

Feloni: When did you know that?

Turner: Oh, when I was 12, 13. My dad quit a job, I think, right around when I was in middle school, and started his own company, and that was inspiring. And I was a voracious reader of Forbes and Fortune magazines. You guys weren't around then, unfortunately!

And I was just fascinated by people like Bill Gates and Steve Jobs and Richard Branson. And these were people I used to write letters to, and I remember asking Branson for an internship. He was, like, "I really wish I could. You're too young. When you're in college, perhaps reach out to me." And, you know, that kind of thing.

Feloni: That's pretty cool.

Turner: Yeah, it was cool. It could have been a secretary responding, but it meant a lot to me at the time.

Feloni: Well, still.

Turner: Got his autograph at least!

Feloni: Did that serve as a validation for this is where you want to be?

Turner: In a small way, yeah. The biggest validation for me was actually building things that people liked, like the websites. I built a lot of websites, probably 50 to 75 websites, somewhere in that range.

Feloni: As a teenager?

Turner: Yeah, for customers. I was a web-design firm. I built a public-company website for an oil-and-gas company that they talked about in their earnings call. That was really cool. There were little moments like that were the most, "Oh, I might be good at that" or "Maybe if I work a little harder — I'm even better."

And, hey, I was making a little money. There's no better validation than someone liking your work then paying you for it, and so I think that was more of it.

Finding the perfect business partner

Feloni: And even when you were in school at Wharton you continued building businesses?

Turner: Oh, yeah. I met Zach, my current business partner. This is 2004. Our first day of school we were in the same writing class. It was a class that you had to get into ahead of time because it was so popular — for athletes mainly, because it was the easiest class to fulfill your writing requirement. You had to watch a movie and then write a paper about the movie, and they catered dinner. It was at 5:00 p.m.

Feloni: They catered dinner and you watched a movie?

Turner: Yeah. It's incredible.

Feloni: Sounds like a great class.

Turner: And we were the only two, maybe a few others, nonathletes in the room, and we stood out like a sore thumb. We started talking one night walking home from class. He found out I could build websites and I was into starting companies.

I did another thing at the end of high school: I ran gift-card trading online as a website. We had just sold that, and he's, like, "Oh, I have some ideas too." And we started brainstorming. He's one of the best product and startup guys I know, to be honest. And even then he was so good at it. And we hit it off and have very complementary skills.

But we started Eat Now, which was a food-ordering website, kind of like Seamless for campuses.

Feloni: And that was your first?

Turner: His and my first company. It didn't do great, but it was a great learning experience.

Feloni: And then the second one that you did was Invite Media?

Turner: Yeah. We started that junior year. Pivoted like eight times. It was first a Facebook app analytics company, then it became — so many different iterations — but ultimately it became a demand-side platform for banner ads.

Feloni: That gets to your point when you were saying that you're an entrepreneur who's opportunistic and optimistic, that combo. Is that what just led you to "Maybe this doesn't work — this might work"?

Turner: Well, the biggest thing Zach and I do, and I think we do it better together than individually, is we're very contrarian. We just ask a million questions, and we question — not just ask questions, but we question things. Like, "Why is it that way?"

I don't really know we did that ever intentionally. It's just our personalities, especially when we're together. We just like figuring things out and finding out if it's not smoke and mirrors. So it turns out a lot of the ad world at the time was smoke and mirrors.

Feloni: Yeah.

Turner: Ad networks, ad arbitrage, a lot of manual work behind the scenes. We started meeting these really wonderful people who took us under their wing and they taught us about ads, real-time bidding, and the rest is history there.

Selling to Google for $80 million, and growing bored

Feloni: So that sticks, and then a few years later, in 2010, Google buys Invite for $81 million, right?

Turner: Yeah. So that was, like, three years on the dot, like within a day or two of when we started the company and we had — we were only 55 people, largely engineering. We, Zach and I, and basically 50 engineers, for the most part.

And, yeah, we show up at Google, they hand us all new laptops, show us our desks — very different than the deal we're doing now. It was not a subsidiary. I mean, we were being integrated into DoubleClick, which is an amazing platform.

Feloni: Yeah, that's Google's platform.

Turner: Right. Yeah, and the overarching guy there was Neal Mohan, who's now, I think, running YouTube's product. And we slotted in so well there — I mean, not personally, but the products.

Zach and I are terrible employees, but we became product managers, he and I. The team no longer reported to us. After about nine months to a year — again, we're horrible employees — I think we drove Neal up a wall with our sense of urgency and just wanting to just break things, move fast.

Feloni: Just getting antsy?

Turner: Well, we just wanted things to happen in a particular way because we're very used to making quick decisions and all that. Again, credit to Google; they rebuilt the system, and it's a very powerful platform now.

And Zach and I moved on after two years. But the final year with Neal and GV's — Google Ventures' — blessing we started researching our next idea. Which is Flatiron.

Feloni: So you're only 24 years old when this deal happens?

Turner: Yeah.

Feloni: Did that kind of change your perspective on what you wanted to get out of your career? Was this something expected? How did you deal with that? Like being in basically a new playing field?

Turner: We never build companies to sell them. We build the best company you can and hopefully they get bought one day. The biggest thing I got out of it was the win under our belt — validation that we know how to build something. Recruiting — we made a lot of great friendships and professional relationships with people at Google and at Invite and many of them helped us or work with us at Flatiron. It helped us with fundraising. It gave us a platform to think about what's next in a much more free way.

When you're 22 and you're thinking about, "How am I going to afford my apartment?," you really have to jump on the thing that is going to get you there quickest. When you get just a little bit of money and you get that platform and that brand behind you, you can really think big.

Zach and I always say Flatiron, if it was our first company, would have been a terrible disaster. We would never had been able to raise the seed round that we did. We never would have been able to recruit the people we did. We never would have attracted GV as an investor. Those kinds of things happened because of that prior experience.

Feloni: So it seems it was less like a big celebration than more just kind of giving a chance to think even bigger.

Turner: Yeah, exactly.

Feloni: Be a little more comfortable?

Turner: Yeah. And we always say, our obituary one day, when we die: We don't want to say we optimized banner ads online. For us it was we had to get to the next thing.

Realizing helping cancer patients is better than improving banner ads

Feloni: So why Flatiron as your next project? Why cancer?

Turner: I remember we had a whiteboard at Google. They gave us this little office — probably to contain us. Zach and I and this whiteboard. And we knew we were going to start another company. There was no question.

Feloni: How much longer did it take for you to realize it?

Turner: An hour.

Feloni: Seriously?

Turner: Yeah!

Feloni: Like day one.

Turner: Of course!

Feloni: So you're brainstorming. What's that like?

Turner: We were angel investing. We probably invested in 30 to 40 companies. We told the entrepreneurs, selfishly, "If you lose the money it's OK. We are mainly selfishly trying to learn from you." We put this money into various industries. We just really were trying to spread our wings, get our mind around different problems.

We started putting money in healthcare. Because that was an obvious thing. And we started looking at a lot of different plays, like insurance and all sorts of stuff.

I have a cousin, Brennan Simkins, who was diagnosed with AML [acute myeloid leukemia], and he was actually being treated toward the end of the Invite experience.

Feloni: How old was he?

Turner: Seven. And they misdiagnosed him twice.

Feloni: Wow.

Turner: They thought he had aplastic anemia and then ALL [acute lymphoblastic leukemia], if I remember correctly. And my dad's family is from Georgia. He's in Georgia. Not a very rural part of Georgia — Augusta, I think the second largest city in the state. But pediatric leukemia is not a super-common thing. And so they had to travel around. They were treated at Emory for a little while, but they ended up at St. Jude. He got four bone-marrow transplants.

Feloni: Wow.

Turner: In the span of 18 months. He's a wonder kid. He made it! He's done great. But his dad asked me a very simple question — actually Zach and me. "A few hundred kids get this every year. What drugs do they get, and do they work? I can't find any information."

He probably didn't realize it, but that simple question actually spurred the whole chain of events. We ended up discarding all the other ideas. We had 50 ideas on this whiteboard.

Feloni: Yeah, you were saying the whiteboard.

Turner: We had insurance on there, we had medical malpractice on there, we had an idea around anesthesia, an EMR [electronic medical records] for anesthesia, we had tons of ideas. Second-opinion service, which actually Grand Rounds is doing now, is a very similar idea to that. You name it. We had tons of ideas on that board.

The first floor of Google, in New York, probably still is, is actually a cancer center. You can take the elevator down to the first floor and you're right in the cancer center. So we met this doctor, Michael Grossbard, who I think now is at NYU. He allowed us to shadow him when he saw patients.

We went to Boston, Krishna [Yeshwant] from GV and another adviser of ours, Vivek Garipalli, who had a lot to do with this, would come with us and chaperone us to add some credibility. We'd meet 20 people a day — oncologists, researchers, pharma companies — while we were employees. We were just obsessed with it. I remember, like, you don't often get so obsessed about something where you drop everything and drive to Boston and meet with people for 14 hours, taking notes, losing your voice, with no idea just to learn.

Feloni: When being opportunistic is such an integral part of being an entrepreneur did it feel different that this was — you were being driven by purpose, if you're making these trips?

Turner: Oh, for sure. I mean the end result, if we were going to be successful, was going to be, instead of a better click-through rate, it was going to be cancer patients got better outcomes.

I remember talking about it all the time before the cancer thing we picked. We just wanted something mission-oriented. I don't know. I think we were so burned out from ad tech it was almost like an overcorrection! Not that ad tech's bad — it's created a lot of jobs and it drives how the internet publishers make money. There are a lot of good things about it, but we were a little jaded — disillusioned — by it.

Making the biggest deal of his life

Feloni: What is it like after this deal with Roche, for Flatiron, compared to what you felt like after the Google deal?

Turner: It's actually very different. Roche has promised us full autonomy and greater resources. It's basically a funding round. We get to invest in the company, and we have access to the broader Roche group of companies, like Foundation Medicine and others, where we can build partnerships.

Unlike the Invite transaction, where we went from having the whole company to no one within 24 hours, here nothing's really changed. I show up to work today and I have the same one-on-ones, I have the same client calls, I have the same team meetings, the same leadership team meeting, and it's business as usual.

Feloni: So more validation than anything?

Turner: Yeah. Like I said before, it's validation that the work we did and are doing is important. It gives us resources to continue the mission. It provides us access beyond capital, such as partnerships, data access, et cetera, that will allow us to get to the finish line faster.

People asked us at the all-hands when we announced it, "Everyone still works for Flatiron?" We had to remind them [that we remained the same company]. It's very important to people that it's still Flatiron. Which just makes me so proud.

Because the brand has become known as — we're a very science- and research-driven company and everything we do is to work that evidence-driven mission. You just look at our mission statement. We want to learn from every cancer patient, and for the benefit of future patients.

Feloni: Have you talked to your cousin about this?

Turner: Yeah. Well, he's in high school.

Feloni: How old is he now?

Turner: I think he's 15. When he's 18 or 19, I'll have more substantive conversations with him. I think he realizes that he was the inspiration for it. We've had him to the company a number of times. He has our swag. We send him swag all the time.

Feloni: Yeah.

Turner: He's actually a shareholder, too.

Feloni: Have you talked to his father about this too?

Turner: Oh, yeah. All the time.

Feloni: What do they think?

Turner: You know, I think they're proud that while they went through an incredibly difficult experience, that at least something very positive came out of it. They can help others.

Feloni: I saw that you told a business-leaders group, "Being an entrepreneur in healthcare takes total rethinking so you can't be on the inside. My advice is don't go to medical school. Change is going to come from the outside." What do you mean by that?

Turner: Yeah, I mean, look, it's a little extreme, but to make a point. Which is, I think it's true in most industries, a lot of innovation occurs when you rethink things. People can get stuck in their ways and build bad habits or whatever. And it's healthcare; it's a regulated industry.

A lot of it has become what it is because of — you call them bad decisions or not, bad system design, how things are reimbursed, and all that kind of thing. Medical school trains you to be a doctor; it doesn't train you to be a businessperson and build companies. Krishna on our board is an internal-medicine doc but also an MBA from Harvard, and he got both at the same time. That's really rare. Not a lot of doctors get that sort of opportunity. Not that doctors are bad at this, in business. They just didn't get the training.

So you're just at a disadvantage. You've far exceeded, hugely, in terms of your clinical knowledge, but you have a long way to catch up [in business]. And that's the problem. You get a lot of the clinical approach to problems. Which again, there's a time and a place for — patient care, hospitals, et cetera — but if something's a software problem, such as cancer data, it's not going to be solved by the industry. It's going to be solved by — hopefully not just tech people, it could be any industry — but someone coming in rethinking how the current system's designed.

I'll say, though, healthcare is interesting. You can't disrupt things. You can't "move fast and break things," right?

Feloni: Yeah.

Turner: Patient data is a serious thing. You can't break an EMR because the oncologist needs it to treat their patient. So we used this phrase "thoughtfully disrupt," where it's — we're still disrupting, we're innovating — but we're not causing disruption in the clinic. We're disrupting the industry perhaps, but in a much more balanced way.

Feloni: What do you think of the state of healthcare in America right now?

Turner: Disarray. It's unclear what the future is. I think utilization and costs and all sorts of stuff are issues, and uninsured [people] is a scary problem, or underinsured. I wish I knew how to fix it. I think most people would throw their hands up because it's just so complicated. I think there are a lot of people who are getting away with, not with murder, but with excess profits and there needs to be change in some way, shape, or form.

Feloni: So when you're connected so intimately to the issue now, are you going to be with Flatiron for the long haul?

Turner: Oh, for sure. This is a multiyear commitment, not just on paper, but also mentally. Flatiron's not just a company for us; it's much more than that. In some ways, it's our life's work, even though we're still relatively young.

Feloni: Is there an impulse in there somewhere of wanting to do a million things at once?

Turner: We'll have our hands in things like we always have. We're still angel investing, we're still advising, we're still helping companies get started.

Feloni: OK.

Turner: One of the coolest things is now that we're over five years old, a few employees have started to peel off to start their own companies and we're helping them. And, thankfully, a lot of them are going into healthcare, some even in cancer. So that will keep us, I think, pretty busy.

Feloni: And on that note, of the partnership you and Zach have. I've seen so many stories where you have two best friends, they start a company, as soon as their little hobby becomes a serious business there's a clash and they become enemies. How did you figure out how to make this work and still stay friends?

Turner: Zach and I, it's not all rosy and we certainly have our ups and downs, like any marriage. Zach and I like to joke to our wives that they're the second wives.

We've been very lucky. We've figured out what we're each good at, and one of our biggest — I mentioned this contrarian thing. One thing Zach and I are, we're very paranoid. Which drives us, maybe to a fault.

At Invite we were at the office most nights to 2:00 and 3:00 in the morning and most of the time it was doomsday scenarios like, "What if this company does that? What if that company does this? We're going to die if Google buys this company and not us. It's just maybe in our own head, but I mean we're very, very paranoid. And even at Flatiron for the first four —

Feloni: You still having those 3:00 a.m. mornings?

Turner: It's waned or it's gotten less bad over time just because we've thankfully been able to build a very sticky platform.

At the very beginning we were, like, "Wow, we didn't even know this company existed, and their website says they're doing the exact same thing as us!" So for about an hour you think, "Why are we even doing this? Someone's already doing it." And then you find out that that company's just a website and it's a part-time doctor in their spare time. But their website's spot on!

Or "Oracle's getting into this space," but then you realize that's OK; we can compete with Oracle.

Feloni: Has this kind of survival instinct — do you still have it?

Turner: Yeah, we do. I mean, look, the thing that's driving us is competition. We love competing. We love questioning things. We love shining light on things. We love building things.

There's nothing better than the response from a customer or patient when they're, like, "That's actually what I'm looking for." That's what drives us. Ultimately less the economics.

And so those are all still true, right? I mean we're very still much in a battle. Which is great for patients. There are lots of companies competing to build the best platform — the best drug-discovery platform, the best database, the best evidence-generation platform — and that's only going to be great for cancer patients.

There are companies coming in from alumni from Google five and a half years after we did, but that's OK. They're onto it now. But that's great. It's going to make us drive. It's going to make us build things better and faster and ultimately that will keep Zach and me pretty excited.

Driving success with purpose

Feloni: Do you have any advice for entrepreneurs who are pursuing their own businesses right now?

Turner: It's easy for me to say, but if you have the opportunity to do it, do something mission-oriented. Everything's easier. It's easier to recruit, it's easier to fundraise, if you truly care about what you're — don't just pick a random mission, something you care about. It's so much more rewarding.

You can build a for-profit company that's very rewarding economically for you and your employees, which will lead to better employees in terms of recruiting.

But look, it's easy for me to say. Invite had so much to do with our Flatiron success, and while I don't love the mission that we had there, it's what made us successful here.

So if you have to start a company in a space more opportunistically, it is what it is. But at some point in your career get to that point where you start a company that's mission-oriented.

Feloni: Well, has your shift from that changed your concept of what it means to be successful?

Turner: Yeah. To some degree you need resources to be successful in this country. It takes money to make money. You've got to invest. You've got to have capital. That's how the world works, and that's totally fine.

But, yeah, there's a greater — I feel more rewarded about Flatiron, beyond the money potentially everyone could make over time, because of the fact that we're actually making a difference in cancer. That's what matters most.

Feloni: Is that going to have to define all of your pursuits at this point in your life?

Turner: That's a good question. I've been thinking a lot about that.

Zach and I are doing a lot of angel investing still. We haven't really slowed down. We certainly direct our angel investing toward things that are more mission-oriented or create jobs not just help smart software engineers get a more higher-paying job. If we ever start a company again, if we ever help start a company, it's going to probably be something, if I had to guess — we're addicted to the mission-orientation thing now.

Feloni: Thank you so much, Nat.

Turner: Yeah, of course.

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