#there's always a dramatic exit followed by them showing back up without comment 5 hours later too

[ballroomnotoriety]

continuously flummoxed by the people who get on a public social media site and make public posts and then...try to moderate who interacts with those posts further than just blocking the shitheads. unless you turn off reblogs or make a post private or have a password locked blog or do literally anything to personally take responsibility for containing your post, you sign a contract that says "if this thing breaks 45 notes you get idiots". them's the breaks! i do not understand people who seem to enjoy being stressed out monitoring every dumbass comment and tag on their 10k shitpost. ESPECIALLY when people get salty about fictional character tags on the fictional character website. there's a super easy way to avoid all of that and it's called "private blog" but there are some of y'all who like to do the online equivalent of standing in the cul-de-sac, shouting, and then gettin mad when the neighbors look at you.

[calzona-ga]

In her unauthorized book, Lynette Rice explores the stories behind some of the ABC drama's biggest moments, including — in this exclusive excerpt — the factors that led to McDreamy's shocking death.

In How to Save a Life: The Inside Story of Grey’s Anatomy, author Lynette Rice recounts the ABC medical drama’s eventful 16-year history, revealing new details behind some of the show’s biggest departures. Included in the unauthorized, 320-page oral history (St. Martin’s Press, Sept. 21, $29.99) is a chapter that offers new insight into leading man Patrick Dempsey’s shocking exit in season 11 of the Shonda Rhimes-created drama. In the chapter, Rice speaks with Dempsey’s co-stars and exec producers who were present during filming of his final days on Grey’s Anatomy, and reveals claims of “HR issues” that contributed to the death of his alter-ego, Derek “McDreamy” Shepherd.

“There were HR issues. It wasn’t sexual in any way. He sort of was terrorizing the set. Some cast members had all sorts of PTSD with him,” recalls exec producer James D. Parriott, who was brought back to the series to oversee Dempsey’s exit.

In more than 80 interviews with current and former cast- and crewmembers, Rice, an editor-at-large at Entertainment Weekly, also explores the show’s early days, recounts the thinking behind some of its more polarizing storylines and offers exclusive details about the show’s behind-the-scenes culture.

“After 17 seasons, fans still can’t get enough of Grey’s Anatomy,” Rice tells THR. But what went down behind the scenes was just as dramatic as what viewers saw every Thursday. I’m excited for fans to read what I learned about those early days, along with what it was like to work for Shonda Rhimes, and why the drama was so freakin’ headline-prone.”

Below, The Hollywood Reporter shares an excerpt — the full eighth chapter — from How to Save a Life, and tune in Friday to TV’s Top 5 for an interview with Rice about her book and the other big reveals she uncovered in her reporting for it.

(Reps for ABC, ABC Signature, Shondaland, and Dempsey declined comment on the reveals in Rice’s book.)

“He’s Very Dreamy, but He’s Not the Sun,” Or, How Grey’s Anatomy Loved — Then Learned to Live Without — Patrick Dempsey Ellen Pompeo may have played the titular role, but for many fans over many years, Patrick Dempsey was the real draw to Grey’s Anatomy. Some of it had to do with his celebrity: Dempsey was the most famous member of the original cast at the time of the pilot and brought with him quite a cult following from his 1987 movie Can’t Buy Me Love. But a lot of it was due to the way Rhimes wrote her McDreamy and how Dempsey depicted him. James D. Parriott I would say, “The guy would never say that,” and Shonda would say, “He’s McDreamy. He’s the perfect man. He would say that.” I’d say, “Okay. It’s your show.” Eric Buchman Shonda had a very clear idea of how important it was to keep Derek as this almost idealized love interest, not just for Meredith but for the audience. Naturally, the writers—especially writers who had been working on one-hour dramas for a while—were like, “Well, maybe have McDreamy make a big mistake in surgery and kill somebody. Or he develops an addiction of some kind. What is his deep, dark secret?” Shonda was very insistent: that’s not the character we do that with. Even when you find out he’s married, that was done in a very sympathetic way that kept him being a hero. He was wronged by his spouse and in spite of it all he was still gonna give his marriage a second chance. Stacy McKee Shonda was protective of McDreamy, but it was really with an eye toward being protective of Meredith. I don’t think the two were separate from one another. I don’t think she wanted to put something out there that maybe on the surface might seem a little frivolous. At its core, there was something really substantial that she wanted to say. She wanted to be very specific about the type of relationship values that she put out there. Tony Phelan I was in editing with Shonda once, and it was the scene where Meredith and Derek had broken up. He comes over and she’s like, “I can’t remember the last time we kissed.” And he says, “I remember. You were wearing this and you smelled of this …”

Joan Rater “Your shampoo smelled like flowers, you had that sweater on …” He described their last kiss. Tony Phelan Typically in editing you start on Derek, then you cut to Meredith for a reaction, and then you’ll go back to him. I noticed that we weren’t ever cutting back to Meredith. I asked why. Shonda said, “Because the woman in Iowa who’s watching this show wants to believe that Patrick is talking to her, and if you cut back to Meredith, it pushes them out of it.” In those special moments, we would just lock into Derek and let him do his thing. Joan Rater And he was a master at it. Patrick Dempsey He’s the ideal man, and that’s what Shonda constructed. There’s a projection [of him] onto me when you come in contact with fans, certainly with the younger and older fans. There is a certain amount of expectation. There is a responsibility to it. It made me grow, too. There were good qualities [of his] that you work on to obtain. Off camera, Dempsey was equally as charismatic to his fellow actors, crew members, and anyone who would come to visit the set. Lauren Stamile I was going in to meet him, and I remember I had this little cardigan sweater on and I took it off before I got into the room. Dempsey is one of those people—it’s almost like there’s a light shining around his body, and you feel like you’re the only person in the room. I got so hot and I remember saying, “Gosh, I would take off my sweater if I had one on because I’m so hot, but I took it off.” I was just babbling. He said, “You look nice,” and I said, “You look nicer.” I felt so awkward and he was so gracious and lovely. I was having a nervous breakdown. It’s like this “it” factor. I was like, God, whatever he has, I wish I had. I think it was very obvious how nervous I was, and he went out of his way to make sure he introduced me to everybody and made sure I felt comfortable, which he certainly didn’t have to do. But he did. Joan Rater He knew I had a giant crush on him, and he loved it. And when we’d go to table reads—I was an actress at one point in my life—they would always give me Meredith if Ellen wasn’t there. And I’d be getting my chicken tenders at craft services before the table read and he’d come up behind me and say, “Are you reading Meredith?” in my ear, like, so sexy. I’d be like, Oh my God. I mean, I could barely … I could not look at him. Tina Majorino I worked with Patrick a ton. I love him so much. We had a really great time working together. I think he’s such a great actor and he really made me laugh a lot. I feel like we had a good dynamic in scenes together, and it was always fun to play opposite him. Yes, he’s that charismatic in real life. Yes, his hair is that awesome. Yes, he is dreamy up close.

Chandra Wilson Patrick Dempsey will forever be known as Grey’s Anatomy’s McDreamy. Derek Shepherd is a permanent part of television history.

Norman Leavitt He is a big, personable guy.

Jeannine Renshaw We all love Patrick. Patrick is a sweetheart. If I saw him on the street, I’d give him a hug. I love the guy.

Mark Wilding I’ve always had a soft spot for Patrick. He really does try to do the right thing. Brooke Smith, who played Dr. Erica Hahn, remembers how Dempsey defended her when the decision was made to fire her from the show in 2008. Brooke Smith I remember calling him and saying, “Oh my God, they said they can’t write for me anymore, so I guess I’m leaving.” And he was like, “What are you talking about? You’re the only one they’re writing for.” Which at that time, it kind of did feel that way. But I guess someone didn’t like that. They gave me a statement [to release, about her departure] and I never said it. Patrick said that he actually took it out of his jacket on The Ellen DeGeneres Show and read the statement. He won’t let me forget it. He was like, “I defended you, see?” And it was true.

By season eleven, however, fans saw a disturbing break in MerDer’s once unbreakable bond. Six episodes had gone by without a peep from Derek, who was supposedly in Washington, D.C., where he had apparently made out with a research fellow. Fans began threatening to bolt if their hero didn’t return soon to Seattle. “I have never missed one episode,” wrote a fan on Dempsey’s Facebook page. “But I swear if [Rhimes] kills you off I’m done.” But there was a critical reason for Derek’s strange absence: behind the scenes, there was talk of Dempsey’s diva-like fits and tension between him and Pompeo. To help manage the explosive situation, executive producer James D. Parriott was brought back in to serve as a veritable Dempsey whisperer.

Patrick Dempsey [That] was the first year that I haven’t been in every episode. I [was] in every episode since the pilot— close to 250 episodes. That [was a] huge run. James D. Parriott Shonda needed an OG to come in as sort of a showrunner for fourteen episodes. There were HR issues. It wasn’t sexual in any way. He sort of was terrorizing the set. Some cast members had all sorts of PTSD with him. He had this hold on the set where he knew he could stop production and scare people. The network and studio came down and we had sessions with them. I think he was just done with the show. He didn’t like the inconvenience of coming in every day and working. He and Shonda were at each other’s throats.

Jeannine Renshaw There were times where Ellen was frustrated with Patrick and she would get angry that he wasn’t working as much. She was very big on having things be fair. She just didn’t like that Patrick would complain that “I’m here too late” or “I’ve been here too long” when she had twice as many scenes in the episode as he did. When I brought it up to Patrick, I would say, “Look around you. These people have been here since six thirty a.m.” He would go, “Oh, yeah.” He would get it. It’s just that actors tend to see things from their own perspective. He’s like a kid. He’s so high energy and would go, “What’s happening next?” He literally goes out of his skin, sitting and waiting. He wants to be out driving his race car or doing something fun. He’s the kid in class who wants to go to recess.

Patrick Dempsey It’s ten months, fifteen hours a day. You never know your schedule, so your kid asks you, “What are you doing on Monday?” And you go, “I don’t know,” because I don’t know my schedule. Doing that for eleven years is challenging. But you have to be grateful, because you’re well compensated, so you can’t really complain because you don’t really have a right. You don’t have control over your schedule. So, you have to just be flexible.

Longtime Crew Member Poor Patrick. I’m not defending his schtick. I like him, but he was the Lone Ranger. All of these actresses were getting all this power. All the rogue actresses would go running to Shonda and say, “Hey, Patrick’s doing this. Patrick’s late for work. He’s a nightmare.” He was just shut out in the cold. His behavior wasn’t the greatest, but he had nowhere to go. He was so miserable. He had no one to talk to. When Sandra left, I remember him telling me, “I should’ve left then, but I stayed on because they showed me all this money. They just were dumping money on me.”

Patrick Dempsey It [was] hard to say no to that kind of money. How do you say no to that? It’s remarkable to be a working actor, and then on top of that to be on a show that’s visible. And then on top of that to be on a phenomenal show that’s known around the world, and play a character who is beloved around the world. It’s very heady. It [was] a lot to process, and not wanting to let that go, because you never know whether you will work again and have success again.

Jeannine Renshaw A lot of the complaining … I think Shonda finally witnessed it herself, and that was the final straw. Shonda had to say to the network, “If he doesn’t go, I go.” Nobody wanted him to leave, because he was the show. Him and Ellen. Patrick is a sweetheart. It messes you up, this business.

James D. Parriott I vaguely recall something like that, but I can’t be sure. It would have happened right toward the end, because I know they were negotiating and negotiating, trying to figure out what to do. We had three different scenarios that we actually had to break because we didn’t know until I think about three days before he came back to set which one we were going to go with. We didn’t know if he was going to be able to negotiate his way out of it. We had a whole story line where we were going to keep him in Washington, D.C., so we could separate him from the rest of the show. He would not have to work with Ellen again. Then we had the one where he comes back, doesn’t die, and we figure out what Derek’s relationship with Meredith would be. Then there was the one we did. It was kind of crazy. We didn’t know if he was going to be able to negotiate his way out of it. It was ultimately decided that just bringing him back was going to be too hard on the other actors. The studio just said it was going to be more trouble than it was worth and decided to move on.

Stacy McKee I don’t think there was any way to exit him without him dying. He and Meredith were such an incredibly bonded couple at that point. It would be completely out of character if he left his kids. There was no exit that would honor that character other than if he were to die. Patrick Dempsey I don’t remember the date [I got the news]. It was not in the fall. Maybe February or March. It was just a natural progression. And the way everything was unfolding in a very organic way, it was like, “Okay! This is obviously the right time.” Things happened very quickly. We were like, “Oh, this is where it’s going to go.”

So that was that: McDreamy would die in episode twenty-one of season eleven, even though Dempsey was in year one of his recently signed two-year contract extension. Rhimes wrote a script that was befitting of her lead’s heroic persona: she began “How to Save a Life” by having Derek witness a car crash and helping the injured. Once it appeared everyone was out of harm’s way, Derek continues on his road trip but is suddenly broadsided by a truck.

Rob Hardy (Director) The paramedics leave. He’s there by himself. He’s having a moment. The nice music is playing, and all of a sudden, bang. It comes out of nowhere, which, you know, is how accidents happen. So as opposed to watching it as a viewer, we saw the accident happen through Derek’s perspective. Derek ends up at Dillard Medical Center, a hospital far from Grey Sloan and the talented doctors who work there. His eyes are open, but his brain is severely damaged. No one hears his plea for a CT scan; he can’t speak. To help keep the episode a secret, the scenes were shot in an abandoned hospital in Hawthorne, California, about twenty-two miles from the show’s home studio in Los Feliz.

Mimi Melgaard It was really hard on all of us because it was so secretive and we had so many different locations. We shot at this closed-down hospital that was absolutely creepy haunted. All the scenes there were so sad anyway, and in this yucky-feeling haunted hospital? It was really weird. His whole last episode was really tough. Patrick Dempsey It was like any other day. It was just another workday. There was still too much going on. You’re in the midst of it—you’re not really processing it. Rob Hardy Here’s a guy who’s immobile. Now you’re inside of his head. We were trying to make that feel scary from the perspective of a person who’s used to being in control, from a person who usually has the power of life and death in his own hands. But now he doesn’t have the ability to speak on his own behalf.

Samantha Sloyan When I went to audition, I didn’t recognize any of these doctors’ names. I assumed they were just dummy sides so people wouldn’t ruin the story line or anything like that. All we knew is that we were dealing with a man who’s been in a car accident. I had no idea that it was going to be Derek. I just figured I was going to be a guest doctor and that whoever this person was who was injured, was going to be just a character on the show. Once it became clear what we were working on, I was like, Oh, my gosh. I can’t believe this is the episode I’m on.

Mike McColl (Dr. Paul Castello) I signed an NDA before they would release the script to me. I was reading it in my house, and I was like, “Oh, my God.” I didn’t tell anyone, including my agents. I just said, “This is a really great booking. It’s a great role on Grey’s.” And they didn’t know anything until it aired.

Savannah Paige Rae (Winnie) The first scene I shot was actually the sentimental scene when I’m saying, “It’s a beautiful day to save lives, right?” I’m in the hospital room with Derek and talking to him. Even though I never watched the show, I recognized the value of the episode I was in and just really took it to heart. It was so special that I got to be a part of it.

Rob Hardy [Patrick] had a lot of emotions during the whole shoot, which evolved. I think when we first started, he was very calm and cool … the same Patrick that I remembered when I worked on the show a year or so before. With each passing day, he was a lot more emotional. A lot more was on his mind, and that would show itself in different ways. The finality of the episode and for his character was setting in. You’ve become a global icon on this show and then in five, four, three, two, a day … it’s over.

James D. Parriott Patrick was very cooperative and good.

Mike McColl When I met Patrick, he’s lying on a stretcher and we’re rushing him into the ER. I just introduced myself, shook his hand, and was like, “Man, I cannot tell you what an honor it is to be the guy to take you down.” He loved it. He could not have been nicer to me and was funny through the whole shoot. He was on the table in front of me there when I cut his chest open and all that stuff. He gave me a hug at the end. It was a real privilege to be a part of TV history in that way.

Samantha Sloyan I remember him being incredibly kind. They had his neck in a brace, and he’s strapped down to the board, so there wasn’t a ton of chatting. I remember him being really kind, but it was clearly intense for him.

Stacy McKee It was such a beautiful piece of storytelling. I knew this event was going to be a really sad, horrible event for Meredith, but I also knew it was going to be the beginning of such an incredible chapter for Meredith.

Dempsey completed his final hours of shooting on a rainy night. There was no goodbye party, no goodbye cake. Maybe that’s because some cast members were left out of the loop. James Pickens, Jr., told ABC News that the cast “didn’t know a whole lot. It was kind of on the fly. So whatever information we got, we pretty much got it kind of right before it happened.”

Caterina Scorsone (Dr. Amelia Shepherd) I didn’t get to say goodbye to Patrick when he left. I do think that helped, because I’ve been using the character of Derek in my internal landscape since Private Practice. Derek was the stability in Amelia’s life. He became a father figure after they watched robbers shoot their father. When he was suddenly gone from the show, we didn’t have that closure, so I got to play it out. She’s about to use drugs again before Owen confronts her in a way that she finally talks about her feelings about losing Derek. She doesn’t end up using.

James D. Parriott The day he left, that was my last day. There was a certain sadness to it, but I think he was relieved. I mean, I think it took a toll on him, too.

Rob Hardy I didn’t see other actors showing up and saying, “Hey, it’s the last day! Wanted to come and wish you well.” I didn’t get that. It was more the Patrick show. We were in the Patrick world, and then Ellen came, and there was definitely a lot of emotion that both of them had individually … not necessarily together. It was more so her being there on the day that he died. He had his own way of being with that, and the same thing with her. It was like two people who grew up together and … here we are. They had their own way of reflecting.

Patrick Dempsey I very quietly left. It was beautiful. It was raining, which was really touching. I got in my Panamera, got in rush-hour traffic, and two hours later I was home. Big news like this doesn’t stay quiet for long. Both Michael Ausiello—who left EW in 2010 to launch the news site TVLine—and Lesley Goldberg of The Hollywood Reporter learned two weeks prior to Dempsey’s final episode that he would be leaving the show. No reporter worth their salt wants to sit on a scoop—least of all one as huge as this—but Ausiello and Goldberg didn’t want to spoil the outcome for fans, so they agreed to hold the story until after the episode aired. I eventually found out, too, but in the nuttiest way imaginable: I was standing on the set of CSI: Cyber, watching Patricia Arquette talk about some droll techno-criminal. Unfortunately, the publicist also cc’d Dempsey’s manager and ABC publicist while trying to give me a major story, so I couldn’t immediately report the scoop. But I did use the information to successfully negotiate the one and only exit interview with Dempsey. Two weeks before his final episode, I met him and his publicist at Feed Body & Soul in Venice, California, for a story that would hit newsstands on April 24. He seemed a little shell-shocked and at one point choked up, but at the time he said nothing about how his on-set behavior may have contributed to his ouster. My editor, Henry Goldblatt, wanted to put him on the cover of Entertainment Weekly, but he couldn’t guarantee to ABC that no one would see it before the episode aired. Good thing we didn’t: some subscribers got the issue on the morning of Dempsey’s final episode— and one actually tweeted the story. Our PR department tried to get the tweets removed, but the cat was out of the bag: some fans found out early that McDreamy was about to be McHistory. Outlets like Variety reported how the story got out early, while our PR department released this statement: “We are surprised that an EW subscriber may have received their issue a day earlier than planned. We always try our best to bring readers exclusive news first. We would like to apologize to fans of the show that learned the news ahead of time.” Dempsey’s final episode was watched by 8.83 million viewers—the show’s largest audience since the premiere that season. Variety even pontificated whether the ratings boost was due to my exclusive with Dempsey.

Lesley Goldberg (The Hollywood Reporter) I’m used to working with networks to hold news as part of their efforts to guard against plot spoilers. But the way Patrick Dempsey’s exit was handled involved a layer of paranoia and secrecy that has been unlike anything I’ve seen in my reporting career. News that he was leaving, and his character being killed off, would have been a major story considering how big the show is domestically and internationally. However, it also would have meant spoiling the episode and, more important, damaging key relationships I’ve worked hard to build. At some point, publishing the news of Dempsey’s exit before the episode aired became an ethical question of what was more important—a big story and its subsequent traffic, which would have come no matter what, or the relationships and trust that it took years to craft. Ultimately, I still published early because EW subscribers received the issue with Lynette’s Dempsey interview before the episode aired.

Mike McColl The morning after Derek’s last episode aired, my daughter sent me a link that was on YouTube or Facebook or something. I actually pulled it up to look at it, and it was a Grey’s Anatomy showbiz cheat sheet. It asked the question “Who is the attending doctor who killed Derek ‘McDreamy’ Shepherd?” It included a photo that I posted from the set. I had on a bloody rubber glove and was in my scrubs and mask. I never obviously would have posted this before it aired. I posted it well after the episode aired, and I [captioned it] “McDeadly.” This writer said something like, “Kill McDeadly.” Maybe that’s why the producer didn’t choose a big-name actor to be the one who killed our beloved McDreamy! I want to be ultrasensitive to these hard-core fans because it means so much to them, and I certainly didn’t mean in that case to make light of it. It’s just, I’m an actor, and I recognize it for what it is. Is everybody clear on the fact that this is just pretend and Patrick knew he was going to be leaving the show? It was just like, “God. He’s okay. He really is okay.”

Peter Horton Derek was going to be there forever with Meredith because you went through a whole journey with them. That was incredibly fulfilling. So even if he’s not there, he’s there. I don’t think any of us really worried about that going away because by then you were so invested in it. The show can last as it has for years.

Patrick Dempsey Lots of people [miss him]. “It’s good to see you alive” is the comment I get. I’m like, “Yes, I’m very much alive in reruns.” People were really invested in that relationship. I knew it would be heavy. Very happy to have moved on with a different chapter in my life.

Samantha Sloyan The montage just killed me, when Meredith says, “It’s okay, you can go.” God, I’m getting choked up just thinking about it. The chemistry they have as a pair and the way they were able to build that and sustain it! So many of these relationships are, like, “Will they, won’t they,” and then it wears thin. They sustained it for the duration of their relationship on the show, and it’s just, I think, a testament to what those two created. It was just unbelievable.

Pompeo addressed Dempsey’s departure with a tweet that focused solely on his character, not on how she spent eleven years working side by side with him: “There are so many people out there who have suffered tremendous loss and tragedy. Husbands and wives of soldiers, victims of senseless violence, and parents who have lost children. People who get up every day and do what feels like is the impossible. So it is for these people and in the spirit of resilance [sic] I am honored and excited to tell the story of how Meredith goes on in the face of what feels like the impossible.” Meanwhile, fans futilely created a Change.org petition to reinstate McDempsey, while other, more desperate ones simply tweeted “We Hate You” to Rhimes.

Shonda Rhimes Derek Shepherd is and will always be an incredibly important character—for Meredith, for me, and for the fans. I absolutely never imagined saying goodbye to our McDreamy. Patrick Dempsey’s performance shaped Derek in a way that I know we both hope became a meaningful example— happy, sad, romantic, painful, and always true—of what young women should demand from modern love. His loss will be felt by all.

Talk about the mother (father?) of all postscripts: In November of 2020 Dempsey reprised his role as McDreamy in the season opener—but only in Meredith’s dreams. Stricken with COVID-19, an unconscious Meredith “imagined” reuniting with her husband on the beach. After talking exclusively to Deadline and saying how it was “really a very healing process, and really rewarding,” Dempsey would return for more beach-based episodes that would ultimately stand out as the best moments of season seventeen. “It was a second chance thing,” one ABC executive told me at the time. “Shonda likes a comeback. Also, they wanted him in their last season.”

[daebakinc]

Hero Among Thorns - Pt 5

Pairing: Hyunwoo x Reader Genre: Undercover Detective AU, Action, Romance Word Count: 2.5K Summary: When a mistaken connection results in your kidnapping by one of the city’s most notorious gangs, the undercover detective Hyunwoo has no choice but to rescue and protect you, and, most dangerously of all, fall in love with you. Warning: Mentions of violence and blood. Parts:  1, 2, 3, 4 

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Even the most hobbit-like homebody has their limits. You really thought your tolerance for staying inside the apartment with no job and no bills to worry about would be high. You really did.

Hyunwoo stayed with you for a few days, then handed over the majority of his babysitting duty to a rotation of his team members, minus Minhyuk. He’s still avoiding you.

In contrast, the others have ensured you want for almost nothing. Kihyun and Hyungwon delivered what they could of your apartment, moving furniture and other items into a spare room at their shop. Those they couldn’t salvage, they replaced. Jooheon and Hoseok never seem to run out of stories of their team’s adventures and misadventures alike. Changkyun has procured a digital copy of any and every movie and television show you ask for to fill your days. When you asked if they were all legal, he’d only winked.

Despite your wheel of protectors, every night, Hyunwoo returns. Some nights, it’s so late he has to wake you up from the couch so you can go to bed. You do try to stay awake, but it doesn’t always work. As much as you like the other members of his team, it’s your time with Hyunwoo that you look forward to the most. If you spent time thinking about how much you anticipated his return, you might be embarrassed.

At first, you’d awkwardly moved around each other like two newly-assigned dance partners. Overly polite, careful of each other’s space. Eventually, you felt each other out and fell into a routine that fits the two of you. He makes dinner with your help or brings takeout, which the two of you eat while only talking to comment on some aspect of the food, sometimes followed by a movie that Hyunwoo usually sleeps through half of, before heading to your own bedrooms. Hyunwoo drops little details about his days that he spends away from you, but never too much. He tells you most of it is too boring to bother with.

That hurt a little at first, but you always remind yourself of your situation. You’re his charge, his witness. Not his girlfriend or confidant. You like to think you’re becoming friends at least. Never mind that you harbor the secret fantasy of becoming more.

Maybe that internal conflict helped contribute to the fact that it only takes two weeks before you get stir crazy. Two weeks, three days, and only God knows how many hours, minutes and seconds. You now catch yourself staring out the window, heart sour apple green with envy at the people walking down the street. Getting to do normal things like shop at whatever stores they please, feel the wind and sun whenever they want, see something other than the same gray walls and window view.

If you were in the basement of the apartment building, you’d be seriously considering pulling a Count of Monte Cristo and dig your way out with nothing more than a spoon. Or tie your bed-sheets together and rappel down the side of the building. Though both the crawling and rappelling would be hard with one arm out of commission…

“Whatcha thinking about?”

Hoseok’s voice startles you, but this time, you don’t fall off the window seat. For such a big man, he can move as quietly as a cat when he wants. Very, very slowly, you’re getting use to that.

“Can you rappel down a building with one arm?” you ask, not taking your eyes from the window.

“Technically, but I wouldn’t recommend it. One slip and you’re a pancake on the pavement if your rigging isn’t properly set up. And that’s if one arm can handle your whole body weight with gravity pulling on it,” he answers candidly. He sits on the opposite side of the window sill. “Why?”

“I don’t mean to sound ungrateful,” you sigh, “but I’m sick of this apartment. I want fresh air.”

“Open the window then.”

By now, you know when he’s teasing and sure enough, when you look at him, that smile is on his face. You push his foot off the sill with yours. “You know what I mean. I want outside. Isn’t keeping someone in a single space for an extended amount of time a form of torture?”

He gasps dramatically, a hand over his heart. “My presence is torture?” When he grins at your giggle, you know that was his whole point.

“You know what I mean. If I have to look at these same walls for any longer … I feel like I’m going to go crazy.”

“In my defense, I did try to convince Hyunwoo we should paint the place. Make it more homey. I suggested blue, but –”

“Hoseok.”

“I know. I don’t think I could do it myself,” he admits with a sigh. Solemnly, he adds, “We’re just trying to keep you safe. Yew has been quiet since your kidnapping. That could mean he’s decided his threat worked or he’s planning something worse.”

“I know. I appreciate it, but wouldn’t Yew think it’s weird that Hyunwoo’s not letting me go anywhere? Like even if I’m a kept-woman or baby-mama or whatever gangsters are supposed to have.”

“A kept-woman?” Hoseok bursts out laughing. He puts his foot back up. “How old are you, grandma? Who says that anymore?”

“You know what I mean. That’s why I added ‘baby-mama’,” Childishly, you stick out your tongue at him. “I’ve been on an old Hollywood binge lately.”

“Still,” he says, wiping the tears that had leaked from the corner of his eyes. “Look, you kind of have a point. I don’t think Yew is going to try to get to you again as long as he believes you’re with Hyunwoo and not a witness. I’ll can talk to Hyunwoo.”

“Really?”

Hoseok holds up his hands at your ecstatic expression. “I’m not promising anything. Like I said, keeping you alive is the biggest priority next to bringing Yew down. Hyunwoo is the ultimate authority in that regard. He makes the final decisions.”

“I’ll take anything, Hoseok. Even just a walk around the block or the roof.”

A few days later, Hyunwoo doesn’t leave directly after breakfast like usual. Instead, after he rinses your cereal bowls, he stays in the kitchen.

Glancing at your arm, he asks, “Would you like to go out?”

Go out? The water you were drinking rebels, shooting down your windpipe. You splutter and cough, trying to get a hold of yourself. That’s a little difficult with Hyunwoo pounding on your back a little too hard to be really helpful. Did he really say 'do you want to go out?’ With him?

Finally gaining control, your voice hoarse, you repeat his question, “Go out?”

Hyunwoo backs away, still eyeing you worriedly. “Yes. It’d just be to the shop and back, but Hoseok said you needed to get out of the apartment. Something about the Geneva Convention.”

“Yes!” Any regret at your misinterpretation is forgotten at the prospect of breathing new air and returning in some capacity to the outside world. You have an excuse to wear real clothes, see real people! “Hell yes!”

You jump out of the chair, tripping in your hurry to get dressed. Hyunwoo steps in, saving you from falling flat on your face. Naturally, your good arm hooks itself around his waist.

He’s so warm. And solid, too. And smells like heaven on steroids. Even better than those fuzzy memories of yours. You feel your own body heat in response to the contact.

God, when did you get this easy?

“Are you okay?” Hyunwoo asks.

His words break the spell and you realize he’s stiff against you. Damn it, he’s probably thinking he never signed up to have some wounded, touch-starved woman clinging to him like a stoned koala.

In an effort to lessen the awkwardness, you turn the accidental embrace into a hug, immediately releasing him. “Yeah! I’m just really excited about going outside!” Without waiting for a response, you run out of the room.

Shimmying out of your pajamas and into a skirt is easy. Then comes the shirt. Jooheon had let you start moving your shoulder a few days ago, but you still have to be careful. With one hand, you manage to wriggle out of your tank top. You chose a clean one, but not before casting a longing look at a shirt with sleeves. Your choice proves wise though. Even lifting your arm to slide it through the top’s armhole makes the healing muscles scream at the stretch. They continue to ache as you readjust the shirt, but you ignore them. The intoxication of freedom, no matter how limited, mutes the pain.

You run back into the living room. “Ready!”

Hyunwoo nods and grabs his car keys. He opens the door for you, but catches your arm as you move past him. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah. Why?” you ask, puzzled. You may not have bothered with makeup, but you haven’t since you got here. Hyunwoo’s only seen it running down your face with tears.

“You’re sweating.” He points to your forehead.

You wipe at it, instinctively using your injured arm. The pain is instant. Hoping Hyunwoo didn’t notice your wince, you shrug it off. “Getting the shirt on was more work than I thought, I guess. I’m fine.”

He looks like he wants to say something. However, he doesn’t stop you again as you walk out. Hyunwoo takes the lead down the stairs after locking the door. As you follow him down the stairwell, he says, “We’re just going to the shop, staying a few hours, then coming back. Yew’s been too quiet for me to trust any side stops. When we’re outside, stay right beside me.”

“That’s fine,” you instantly reply.

You don’t meet another soul on the stairs and the lobby is similarly abandoned. It’s not surprising given the hour though. Those who work are long gone and just as far from returning home.

At the door, Hyunwoo pauses. You assume it’s to scan the street before exiting. Instead, he turns back to you. “Yew has at least one person watching this place. We want him to keep thinking you’re my girlfriend. That will keep you safe.”

“Okay.” You’re not quite sure where he’s going with this.

A hint of pink sprouts on Hyunwoo’s cheeks. He smiles, but it’s a different smile than you’ve seen before. It’s apologetic, with a hint of embarrassment.

“We’re going to need to make it believable. So, if you agree, I think we should engage in displays of physical affection.”

You can hear the echo of your jaw hitting the floor. “What?”

“Nothing you don’t consent to,” Hyunwoo rushes to reassure you. “All professional. Just physical touch on arms, waist, and hands.

“All that and no kissing?” you blurt out. Instant regret slams into you. “I mean, wouldn’t it be weird if we didn’t?”

Luckily, Hyunwoo laughs. He shifts his weight. “Yeah, I guess… Kisses on the head, forehead and cheeks should be okay. Right?”

Your eyes fall to Hyunwoo’s lips. You can’t help but feel robbed of the opportunity to kiss him there. Before you fell punch-drunk into your fantasies, you stop yourself. You need to look at this as some kind of weird, elaborate, dance-less ballet. Hyunwoo is your dance partner, not a boyfriend. This is a professional relationship, one your life actually depends on. You can’t fuck this up.

“Right,” you say.

“Good.” With one hand, Hyunwoo pushes open the glass door of the building. The other reaches out to you, palm open and ready.

With a fortifying breath, you take it.

That breath turns out to be about as useless as gulping for air in outer space without a helmet. As you step through the door, Hyunwoo pulls you into his side, his arm encircling your shoulder. From shoulder to hip, you’re glued against him.

You feel his lips graze against the top of your head. The touch is so light you almost think you imagined it. But then Hyunwoo whispers into your hair, “Ready?”

Heart thudding wildly, you look up at him. The smile on his face is full of affection. It’s so natural, you almost believe it yourself. You can only nod and smile, belatedly remembering you have a part to play too. Dazed, you let him guide you down the steps and down the sidewalk.

Hyunwoo stops halfway down the block. He keeps his arm around you like a shield the whole time. If the air hadn’t held a crispness, you would have definitely overheated. The chirp of a car unlocking and Hyunwoo easing away from you to open the door is enough to bring you back to reality. When you actually look at the car, you immediately wonder if you’re hallucinating.

Even to someone who isn’t a car enthusiast, the car breathes class. It lacks the bulk of most modern cars, instead celebrating sleekness from its slim, rectangular nose to mirror-image tail. Yet like its driver, you know beneath all that jet black metal is pure muscle. From the outside, the only hint of this is the silver head of a supercharger sitting on the hood.

The parallel is so perfect, you can’t help but laugh.

Hyunwoo backs away from you, startled.

“Dude, you’ve got to be kidding me. This is your car? This one?”

Hyunwoo looks at the car with its open door, then back to you. “Yes. Why?” he asks when you start laughing all over again.

“It’s a 1970 Dodge Charger R/T.”

Surprise is evident on Hyunwoo’s face. “Yeah. You know cars?”

“Not at all, but holy crap.” You slide into the front seat. Hyunwoo closes it behind you and circles the car to get in as well. “You don’t see why this is funny?”

“No. It’s a good car. Put your seat belt on.” He waits until you do so, then pulls away from the curb and into the street, but you can’t let it go.

“An undercover agent posing as the head of a mechanic shop that also deals with 'stolen’ cars and drives a black 1970 Dodge Charger R/T that’s been modified?” You watch his face, leaning forward so your seat belt presses into your chest. “Doesn’t sound familiar at all?”

Hyunwoo shakes his head.

“This is the exact model car driven by Vin Diesel as Dominic Toretto in The Fast and the Furious!”

“Never seen it.”

“Shut the damn front door. You’ve never seen The Fast and the Furious? Not one?”

“There’s more than one?”

At first, not a sound comes out of your mouth, too frozen in disbelief. You’re about to launch into a full geek rant when you notice a slight curve to the corner of Hyunwoo’s mouth. He’s not looking at you, his gaze purely on the road, but it’s there.

“You’re teasing me, aren’t you?” you say slowly.

A smile fully cracks through, broken by a low laugh that fills the car. “Of course I have. Minhyuk was obsessed with them. He made the entire team watch all of them one night after we got this assignment. I did own this car before I watched them though. It’s a good car.”

“You made it through the entire series in one sitting?” You whistle appreciatively.

“I saw the first one, but after that, they’re fuzzy,” Hyunwoo confesses. “I fell asleep.”

“Can’t blame you.” You shrug. “They’re like 16 hours altogether.”

Your bodyguard-slash-roommate nods, making a small sound in agreement.

Quiet settles between you after that. Where once it would have been tense or clumsy for you, it feels right. Comfortable. You don’t feel any need to fill the empty space in between the street noise and the engine’s sleek purr. Instead, you lean back against the leather seat and watch Hyunwoo with slight side glances.

You’re learning to read Hyunwoo’s silences. Sometimes, they can be just as articulate as if he had spoken with words.

His shoulders are relaxed beneath his dark jean jacket and his hands hold the steering wheel with the easy confidence of someone who knows they can handle the horsepower. Despite the mellowness of his body, Hyunwoo’s eyes keep a careful watch on the passing streets. They flicker left to right, then straight, then back again. Car, bus, and pedestrian get a quick threat assessment before being dismissed. He’s not very worried about an attack, but he’s not being stupid about it either.

Hyunwoo turns his head to turn down a street, facing you for a brief second. You notice suddenly that mouthed lyrics flow steadily from his lips right in time with the radio. The song is some oldie, the singer belting about freedom and fast cars. You wonder what his singing voice sounds like…

Out of nowhere, Hyunwoo says, “You should thank Minhyuk.”

“Minhyuk? Why?” you ask cautiously. Based on your last and only parting, you’re doubtful he’d give you the few seconds saying 'thank you’ would take. He’s the very last of the team you’d expect to be your advocate.

“He’s the one who finally convinced me to let you come with us.”

“Not Hoseok?”

He shakes his head. “Minhyuk,” he says with finality.

“Why?”

“Ask him yourself.”

Hyunwoo turns onto the curb and honks the horn three times. You glance out the window. The building is plain, gray concrete, a number of cracks showing its age like fine wrinkles. There’s a line of windows high in the front wall, but no sign to speak off. Nothing other than the two long, dulled and dented silver garage doors to indicate this is anything other than a warehouse.

One of the doors slides open. Hyunwoo pulls inside, the door closing just behind the car’s tail.

He only has time to turn off the car and slide the key from the ignition when Minhyuk appears at his window.

“We’ve got a problem,” he says, glancing at you.

[hannahharrington]

CRYING IN EUROPE (postcards from italy)

I struggled with whether or not to post this; I still am, honestly, because it is very raw in every sense. This is something I wrote a year-minus-two-weeks-ago, holed up in an AirBNB in Rome, about losing my good friend Jaymee and the bizarreness of having the best and worst time of your life simultaneously. I did not look at it ever again until a few days ago. It wasn’t written to share with anyone, only because I needed to put thoughts down at the time. Any editing has been very minimal.

The last section I wrote yesterday.  

CRYING IN EUROPE (postcards from italy)

1. The first time is on the first day. I land at Heathrow only to find out the express train isn’t running because of the snowstorm and the tube is beyond fucked. I nearly cry out of frustration and jet lag exhaustion but I don’t. I end up emerging from Shepherd’s Bush Market half a mile from the hotel and have to drag my suitcase through blustery snow that whips me so hard in the face it makes tears leak out of the corners of my eyes.

2. The second time is the next morning, five minutes after I first find out you’re dead. I guess the first five minutes are a mix of me just having woken up, an hour before my alarm, still on New York time as I scroll idly through my phone messages only to see it blowing up with the news; and maybe shock can be used as an excuse, even though we all knew it was coming.

3. Over the Hilton London Kensington breakfast buffet for Hilton Honors Members. I’m telling Barry how I was supposed to see you before it happened. My voice cracks and eyes overflow with tears, and I’m apologizing and Barry is being so kind about it even though I can tell he’s not really sure what to do or say, which is okay because I don’t know either. It occurs to me later that in all the years we’ve known each other, this is the first time I’ve ever cried in front of him.

You said you were terminal, and released to home hospice care, and I told you I would fly to California if you wanted and read you mean celebrity blog comment sections, like how I did for you when you visited me in Brooklyn (I’ll never forget how we laughed until we cried like middle schoolers at a sleepover). I followed your lead in trying to blunt reality with a joke because that’s what you always did. The last thing you posted on any social media was a repost of our Facebook “Friendaversary”, saying how you were due for another one of my dramatic readings. I was going to buy a plane ticket when I got back from this trip. I was supposed to be there.

4. The first cigarette I smoke.

5. And the second, all while thinking about how terrible a person I am for smoking because you hated it and hated having cancer and hated that I would do something that could make me sick. You wanted me to stop, and if this were a movie I’d quit on the spot. But it isn’t and so instead I stand chain-smoking and hating myself.

6. In the shower.

7. We go see the Hamilton matinee hours after we find out, and it’s the cruelest twist of fate, experiencing this thing you loved so deeply and brought into my life and that we shared together. You’re the reason I saw it with everyone else at the matinee Obama attended. I lost the lottery, the lone one of all of us without a way in, and I was feeling a little sorry for myself and about to leave. I went to say goodbye to you, and immediately you pulled your Jaymee magic and got me a ticket at the literal last minute. And it really did feel like magic.

When you first saw it at the Public, I tried the lottery and lost, and I joked for you to go on without me, to die a million happy deaths. You said if I were being mugged and you were the only one who could save me, you’d still make me wait until after the show. I know if I skipped it you’d literally come back to life and kick my ass. But that doesn’t seem like a bad deal. I’d never see Hamilton again, I’d burn all of my playbills, even the one from the off-Broadway run I got signed by the original cast at the stage door. I’d tear the donut bag in half, the one we joked about being good luck, the one I had Lin-Manuel Miranda autograph. I’d do all of that if it gave me five more minutes with you.

I keep my shit together more or less until the second act. When Hamilton pleads to Washington with Why do we have to say goodbye?, I start crying and don’t stop until curtain call.

8. Right before I left on this trip, I threw together a playlist for my phone. The last song I added was Eva Cassidy’s cover of “Fields of Gold”, thinking it’d be pretty background soundtrack for train rides through lush, rolling Italian countryside. A year ago I went down one of my weird little Internet research rabbit holes and read all about Eva, her melanoma, how she died and her last performance, and wondered why there hadn’t been a movie made about that particular beautiful tragedy. After Hamilton I tell Barry I feel better, like it was an emotional release, but then the next afternoon we go to a pastry café and they play a jazz standard cover of “Fields of Gold” over the speakers and my chest seizes.

9. Friday night we’re supposed to meet up with Jen for dinner before she flies back to Philly. I’m sick to my stomach in the cab ride over to her hotel, and when we get to her room I drop my purse and hug her and don’t let go. That thing happens where I’m trying not to cry and it makes me cry harder and I can feel Jen crying too. We sit and Jen and Danielle talk about their travels and the whole time I feel on the verge of throwing up. Finally I say we need to talk about you, about what we’re going to do. Jen says June told her sometimes in Filipino culture they ask for donations for the family instead of flowers, so she’s not sure what’s preferred. I don’t know why I was expecting Jen to have more information, something to make me feel better, but nothing she tells me does. I take one of the Ativans my mom gave me for the plane ride because I can’t calm down. You said they gave you Ativan at the end. You said it helped. It helps me too.

I excuse myself from their room and get lost in the dimly lit maze of their hotel, until finally I find a side exit to the courtyard, and I light a cigarette and text my mom, who happens to be around. I try calling, but this stupid SIM card I got won’t let me connect to the US, so I wait until I’m back at the hotel and Barry is out at his show. The instructions to dial out don’t tell me the overseas rates, but I call my mom anyway, and spend twenty minutes on the phone with her sobbing like a child.

When we check out of the hotel, I’ll find out the call cost me over a hundred pounds, which probably with the obscene exchange rates approximates to three hundred dollars. I rationalize that’s what I would have paid out of pocket for an emergency therapy session anyway.

10. I find your aunt on Facebook and ask her what the family wants done. An hour later she messages me back to say flowers would be lovely. Your mother is beside herself with grief, she says. You were her best friend, she says.

It feels better to be doing something, to feel productive, so I make it my mission to organize the flowers for your memorial. The whole next day between sightseeing at Kensington Palace I’m looking up florists in San Mateo, figuring out who wants to contribute, making sure everyone is included. Bridget agrees to place the order. It’s midnight my time when I run downstairs for a smoke. Bridget and I are trading texts, trying to figure out what to write on the card. I’m not a writer, she says. You should do it, she says. I start crying because I don’t know how I’m supposed to do this. When I go to head back into the hotel, a British girl with blue hair sees me wiping at my eyes. She calls me love and asks if I’m okay. I’ve been in New York too long; my own public meltdowns don’t even embarrass me anymore. I’ve forgotten that the rest of the world doesn’t politely ignore you when you’re losing your shit on the sidewalk. I know how I must look, crying messily in my pajamas, walking around like an open wound just bleeding over everything.

I try to stop the tears long enough to assure her I’m fine, really, and when I stumble out the words that a friend of mine just passed away, she grabs me in a hug before the words finish getting out. She’s so nice that it makes me cry even more and I let her convince me to take the free cigarette she offers. She tells me she’s here with her gay husband and I joke through tears that I’m here with mine too. We stand and talk about Camden Market and the magic of New York at Christmastime, and when she’s satisfied I’m not a suicide risk she adds me as a friend on Facebook.

11. Things feel different in Venice. I start to feel like maybe I’ve hit the bottom of this, it’s only up from here, and even as I’m thinking it I know it’s delusional. I had the same feeling when my dad died, and I learned then that grief is not linear. There can be moments where it’s all temporarily bearable, only for a fresh wave of pain to knock you flat on your ass a minute later.

But for most of Venice I feel lighter, like the darkest clouds of the storm have passed. We get lost in the labyrinth of alleyways and eventually I duck into a Murano glass shop. Back in January when I went to Fort Myers, I took an Uber from the airport, and for the first time ever I had a woman driver. During the drive to the beach somehow the subject of this trip came up. I mentioned I’d be in Venice, and she told me how her day job was at an art gallery. They made jewelry from Murano glass, a Venetian technique. She made me promise to seek it out when I went.

The shop has all kinds of figurines, and in the back corner I discover these thimble-sized cows. Cows were your thing. Not just thing—borderline obsession. I still don’t know what it is about them you loved so much, but you did. When I was in Amsterdam I passed by an actual Cow Museum, snapped a photo of the storefront and sent it to you. You couldn’t believe I didn’t go inside. Now I’m here in Venice, looking at these little cows and thinking of you, and of course I have to get them. I scoop four of them into my palm and go to the cashier and whatever part of my heart that’s been healing over gets ripped open raw again. My throat burns too much for me to manage anything more than a cursory grazie as I watch him bundle them delicately in bubble wrap. It almost feels selfish to hurt this much, when there are people in this world who loved you longer and harder and better than I did. But I do.

12. In Florence Barry and I split up for the day. He runs off to the Duomo while I visit the Ambrogio market, the one the owner of our B&B tells me is for locals. I pick up random ingredients for my mother, whose burgeoning interest in the culinary arts still baffles me considering I subsisted on almost nothing but microwave dinners as a child, and two sweaters for myself. 

I’m back at our apartment-sized suite, arranging the packaged pasta and sun-dried tomatoes on the wooden table for an Instagram photo when I click some random button that takes me to my inbox.

There’s only one message in there and I realize it’s from you, from over two years ago. I click to see it’s a video taken in Marie’s Crisis. Some pitch perfect soprano sings bars from an unrecognizable show tune at the piano, and then you turn the camera to yourself, bobbing your head along with a coy smile. I can’t believe it. I click out accidentally and have to Google for instructions on how to find it again. The video is only fifteen seconds but I watch it ten times in a row and then put my head down on the table and cry until it hurts.

13. Bucket list items have a greater sense of urgency now than they used to. At the last minute I find a woman who agrees to take me to a horse farm in Tuscany. She meets me at the Piazza Cavalleggeri behind one of Florence’s countless gorgeous ancient basilicas and takes me to meet her business partner so he can drive. He’s an old guy who speaks zero English, and it becomes evident when he climbs into the driver’s seat that he has Tourette’s. Every ten seconds his tic makes him jerk the steering wheel so the whole car swerves. We lurch our way up narrow roads that wind up huge hills, endless greenery on all sides, the woman chattering happily about vineyards and olive trees as I brace myself in the backseat, positive the guy is going to tic us right into oncoming traffic and certain death. It rains on the way there, and the woman worries it’ll be too wet to ride, but sure enough we arrive and the sky clears up just long enough for me and two other American girls to go for an hour-long trek. It’s been ten years since I’ve been on a horse, and I’m nervous about it, but the second I’m in the saddle everything comes back to me. We ride through steep hills, surrounded by the kind of scenery that’s beyond picturesque. It’s so gorgeous it doesn’t look real, like an oil painting. For the first time in days I feel a weightless kind of happiness. I know as it’s happening that this is something I will remember for the rest of my life.

When the woman drops me back off in Florence, I trip over myself thanking her profusely, holding back tears because I don’t want to explain that that was maybe the most beautiful experience of my life and I’m so grateful that for three hours the Jaymee is dead, Jaymee is dead, Jaymee is dead track stopped spinning in my head.

14. Rome is a welcome change of pace. I like big, bustling, metropolitan cities; they make me feel comfortable. Safe. Even just through glimpses out the taxi window I can see Rome is bursting at the seams, vibrant and colorful and a startling clash of ancient and modern. Our driver asks where we’re from and I say New York. He laughs and tells us he doesn’t like America, but he likes New York.

On a tour of the Vatican museums, our guide shares all the juicy stories of how Raphael and Michelangelo loathed each other, and the illicit love between Antinous and Hadrian, and we marvel at the frescos on every wall and the breathtaking scope of the Sistine Chapel and the inside of St. Peter’s basilica.

I was skeptical as I always am of anything to do with organized religion, but you liked the new Pope. You thought he was progressive, refreshing. You’d joke all the time about your “Jesus problems”, how you struggled to reconcile your Catholicism with your personal politics.

Afterward Barry scurries off to scale the bell tower. I ask our guide if there’s anywhere in the basilica to light candles, like how you can do in St. Patrick’s. She tells me it’s not allowed—it’s too much of a hazard, especially after a crazy man declared himself the second coming of Jesus and attacked Michelangelo’s Pietà with a hammer, chipping off fifteen pieces in the mayhem, including Mary’s nose.

Instead of waiting for Barry outside in the square I retreat back into St. Peter’s, to the closed off chapel. The guard asks me if I will be praying. It forces me to confront what I’m really planning to do, and after a heartbeat of hesitation I stutter out a yes, slip through the parted curtains to the pews. I’ve never prayed in my life; I have no idea how to do it. I look to see how others around me kneel and try to imitate the stance, hands folded in front of me, knees against the padded rest. It all feels clumsy and awkward until suddenly it doesn’t. Suddenly I’m just crying. I watch my thick tears plop onto concrete and absently wonder how many people before me have spilled salt on these floors. Probably a lot.

I don’t know how to pray. In my head I’m just screaming please forgive me, and I don’t know if I’m saying it to God or to you. I guess I know now what Catholic guilt feels like.

I should’ve been there. I should’ve brought Schmackary’s cookies and the good luck donut bag and flown out to California and seen you. Why didn’t you tell me how bad it was? Why did you have to make your yes a joke? (A quip about doctor’s orders, it comes as no surprise you embraced the gallows humor.) Why couldn’t you be earnest? Why couldn’t just say I need you right now, I don’t have much time, please be here? Did you even know? Because I swear I didn’t. I thought I could wait. I thought you had more time. None of it fucking matters because I can’t forgive myself, not ever.

…And that’s it. That’s where I stopped writing. I didn’t cry on European soil again after that. Not because the last cry was cathartic or healing; it wasn’t. The healing would come later, long after my plane touched down again in New York. It happened in ways I can’t explain, slowly, until one day the thought of you didn’t automatically bring me to the brink of tears or knock the wind from me like a sucker punch to the gut, where the tenderness of loving memory ran parallel with the heartbreak rather than being subsumed by it. Eventually the day came where I could think of you and how you were and what we shared, not only of the ways I failed you. A year later and I still think of those too, sometimes. And there are still tears, sometimes.

I feel like I always had this idea that you go through The Worst Thing and life just evens out after that. My Worst Thing happened when I was in my teenage years and I was supposed to be in the clear afterwards. But life doesn’t work that way. There’s no plateau, no neat ever after. And every so often we break in ways where yes, you can scrape the pieces together and carry on, but you’re never made whole again. You’re never the person you used to be. You become a new version of yourself, mismatched and full of jagged lines, and you find a way to forge ahead.

In the immediate soul-crushing wake of the 2016 election, someone created a Subway Therapy project in the tunnel of the 14th Avenue station that stretches from Sixth to Seventh. I went to see it then, a modern day marvel: the long tiled wall papered with thousands of bright post-its, each full of encouragement and commiseration from fellow grief-sick New Yorkers. The sight was a life preserver in the sea of misery I’d floated in that entire week. I was not alone in the feeling, however singularly devastating it felt.

Countless others have been here. I am not the only one to have shed my tears on ancient chapel floors, unable to imagine I would ever feel okay again. Experts painstakingly restored the Pietà after the attack, but if you were to find your way behind the bulletproof glass and touch the Virgin Mary’s cheek, you would still feel hairline traces of their work, a difference of texture; if you were to peer close enough, you would see the faint lines on marble that belie its pristine repair. It was broken once. It could not be remade exactly as it was. It’s no less a masterpiece.

That day in the 14th Street station, I peeled off a blank post-it and wrote out an Abraham Lincoln quote I’d read once: Perfect relief is not possible, except with time. You cannot now realize that you will ever feel better… And yet this is a mistake. You are sure to be happy again.

Time buffers out the rough edges. It is the only thing that does.

[chimswae]

Chapter 16

Foreword:

Some stories are better left unsaid.I couldn’t change anything for the world, although the fame part of this industry is tough to handle.Do i have a life? Yes I have my fans.Do i have friends? Yes the members that I cherish. Do i have love? No I have to let go.Life always offers you a second chance. It’s called tomorrow. But do i have any tomorrow?

Pairing: Jimin x OC (Other characters: BTS, OCs, Lee Taehwan)

Genre: Idolau, Fluff, Romance

Word Count: 2, 486

Author Note: I crosspost this story from my Asianfanfic account. Mind you, clicheness OVERLOADS

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Chapter 16:  There goes, freedom of choice

“Hush hush don’t make noise, they are in deep slumber” Jin hissed under his breath signaling others to stop shuffling their feet or making any kind of voice that might wake the lovebird up.

“I am not making any noise, you have been talking non stop” the younger boy scolded his hyung with a deep frown.

Unfazed Yoongi pushed the older boy off from the front door, pushing the key into the hole and within a second the door clicked open. Others let out a low snort disagreed with his action but of course Yoongi was ignorant to the core.

“Yah Min Suga.. Get back here” as soon as Yoongi opened the door and stepped inside everyone got cold feet not knowing how to react. They might be witnessing something unexpected or more like they expected that thing however being a nosy sonyeodan, they still wanted to see it with their naked eyes.

Hoseok clasped his hand together followed with a holy prayer “Dear lord, please don’t let us witness any naked human being inside. Even though we may still sin after watching hentai , we are not ready to see the real deal inside. Amen” he chanted it all over again while following others entering the room.

If Jimin found out they invaded his space without his consent every single soul in this room would be dead by dawn. Reaching for the light, Yoongi turned it on only to be welcomed by a sleeping Jimin and Yeoul under the thick duvet.

Judging from the clothes scattered on the floor, their assumption was right.

“So they had sex” Jin facepalmed dramatically.

"Dont be dramatic when you expected this" Namjoon scolded.

“This is wrong, Jimin hyung will be mad if he finds out we are here” Jungkook flushed at the sight and quickly exited the room. The golden maknae could not stop his racing heart since it was his first time to see a grown up man and woman under a duvet together when it was crystal clear why they’re under the duvet in the first place.

What a wild imagination you got there Jeon Jungkook.

Taehyung nodded in agreement “Chim would not like it. I am following Kookie…” with that he walked out leaving the hyungs inside.

“Okay I swear this is not my fault, I told you I can wait until they are fully awake to get my phone. This is your idea Jin hyung” Hoseok flailed his arms and whispered dangerously low. They did not want to wake the predator up, carnivore Jimin.

Jimin stirred in his sleep, pulling Yeoul close to his body as the four men froze in their spot while watching the younger guy closely. His head perked up after hearing such commotion in the room “What the hell…” he lowly groan.

“Shit..”Namjoon mumbled lowly, nudging Hoseok side urging him to take his phone quick so they could leave the room at this instant.

“Park Jimin wake up, we need to head out in few hours. Your written statement is much needed to fix the mess” unbothered Yoongi shook him up with his foot.

His eyes shot open as soon as he realized the voice he heard did not come from his dream, the members were in his room for real to witness his after sex urm face, just what were on their mind? Jimin pulled the duvet carefully covering Yeoul’s bare body, and he slowly turned his head to face the wolf pact.

“Finally you decide to open your eyes”

“I thought you are up for another round” Yoongi snickered sarcastically.

His brows burrowed deeply, as he dangled one leg out giving the latter a light kick on his calf earning a low grunt from him. “Bloody hell, why are you guys here? Get out!” he jeered.

“Ughh it is Jin hyung ideas, he wanted to use the reason of taking my phone just to check on you” Hoseok exclaimed.

“Hey hey don’t push the loads on me. It is not just me all of you are dying to know too” he called in annoyance.

“I don’t give a damn whose idea this is. So leave before you embarrassed Yeoul” Jimin glanced at sleeping Yeoul hoping that she would not be awake. Knowing Yeoul, their presence would cause her to lock herself in room for days.

“Guys lets leave before Yeoul wakes up, you don’t want to scare her” Namjoon reasoned. He gave Jin a hard stare tugging mommy Jin out the room before he argued. Guess, bickering was his real talent after all putting his misery in dancing behind.

Giving Jimin an apologetic look, Hoseok lips pursed into a slight pout before leaving the room with his phone.

“Okay Yoongi hyung are you planning to leave or not?” Yoongi lazily approached Jimin as he bent down to match his height.

With a playful smirk, he patted the top of his head “You could have tell me that you need a private moment with Yeoul. Great job Park Jims, guess you are still alive” he cooed.

Jimin gawked at the older boy disbelief as he watched his body disappeared from his vision, shutting the door close “Crazy hyungs” he exasperated a deep sigh. His attention was back on the sleeping girl in his arm, the smile returned on his face.

‘Gorgeous even in her sleep’ he mentally groaned with a big fat smile on his face.

A flash of memory of their intimate session gushed into his mind. It felt too good to be truth,and most importantly it was not just a mere dream. Yeoul and him were officially back together just like they used too.

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

  Hello this is Park Jimin,

First, I apologize for stepping out late when I am well aware of the rumor that has been circulating around causes an uproar and has tremendously affect Bangtan’s image.

Most importantly to my baby armys, I feel regretful and apologized to everyone who has been upset by my huge mistake. I am sorry for disappointing you Armys. I have no words to excuse myself.

I, Park Jimin is admitting to all the rumors to be true. Park Minyeol is my biological son.

Five years ago, I dated a girl whom I loved dearly. As a result of our careless rendezvous, an innocent kid was born. What was done could not be undone but I regretted our immature decision five years ago for breaking up without knowing the existence of the baby. I deserved to be punished.

Through this incident, I once again offer my apologies to my parents, my company, my members, our lovely Armys who have been supporting and believing in me since day one, and not to forget to the one i scarred the most Na Yeoul and Park Minyeol. I have let everyone down and hurt everyone.

I know a mere word is not enough to fix a broken heart but to make up for all the damages done to everyone and to return everyone’s support, I will continue to work hard to become a good son, a better version of Bangtan Sonyeodan’s member, and a good father to Minyeol.

I will reflect on what I have done again and I promise to become a better person in the future.

Thank you for the overwhelming support from lovely Armys, please continue to love us. Please do not blame others because I am responsible for all the troubles experienced by the members. I am sorry again for betraying your trust and breaking the promise that we made together. I hope you will continue to support and love us.

To my members, thank you for staying beside me. I promise to be a better friend in the future, thank you and I love you.

Lastly, I hope you will support and respect my decision and to love Minyeol and Na Yeoul as much I cherish them.

Thank you and I am sorry. I wont be tired to say this all over again.

Sincerely, Park Jimin

 Yeoul’s tears cascaded down upon reading Jimin heartbreaking written apology posted on the internet. And once again, Jimin and BTS names were trending on every social medias platform. Frankly speaking, Jimin was in no position to apologize but the perks of being an idol he had to get it done no matter how absurd it sound.

His parents was well informed ever since the rumors broke and they showed warm support for Jimin and Yeoul even though it shocked them at first. His parents had already met Minyeol and took a liking of the little boy so did to Yeoul. Jimin was grateful that he had the support from his family and friends in this tough situation. That was all matter.

Feeling remorseful, Yeoul wiped her tears away as she sat on the bed quietly reflecting on everything that happened this past few weeks. She never dreamed of being reunited with Jimin again after their heartbreaking farewell. But, fate brought them together. Park Minyeol was the key to their relationship. Without him, they would not be having this dramatic reunion.

“That fool, he was not the one who suppose to apologize” Yeoul murmured, sniffing a little. She must be crying a little too much that she planned so she had to stop crying before the guys came back and bombarded her with questions.

Just how Jimin told her, she refrained herself from reading the comments on the internet. She was positive that most it would be positive but some negative comments could not be halted. There were people out there despised the idea of Jimin dating a plain girl like her let alone having a child together.

This was one of the rare cases in the industry. Most of idol scandal would be related to dating or lawsuit so considered Jimin’s scandal as one of the worst one.

Everything happened for a reason.

She rose to her feet and made her way to the kitchen. Yeoul decided to stop moping around and cooked something for the hungry boys once they got back. Rummaging through cabinets, Yeoul was looking for cooking supplies but to her distaste it was filled with ramen.

“Ugh don’t they cook” she grumbled in annoyance.

Pacing back and forth in the room, Yeoul finally came to a decision. She must go out for grocery shopping. It wouldn’t hurt right even for an hour?

In this circumstances, would it be possible that people recognized her.

She shook her head frantically in denial “Im not an idol, no one knows me please don’t get ahead of yourself Yeoul” she puffed her cheeks.

Yeoul inhaled deeply as her fingers typed a quick message to Jimin before leaving Bangtan dorm. She dressed comfortably and made sure to be careful with her surrounding. For some reason Yeoul feared that people would recognize her so along the way to the nearest store it felt super draggy.

The sight of the white building few meters from where she stood got her excited for no reason. She entered the building with a wide smile and took the shopping cart. There was a group of girls around her age were staring at her way, Yeoul ducked her head quickly and made a sharp turn to the left.

Grabbing all the items in her list while trying to keep herself out of people’s radar was not an easy job. From time to time there would be people scrutinizing at her as if trying to figure out who she was and it mortified her to the core.

Yeoul pushed her shopping cart passed the CD section and coincidently there was a group of high school girl lurking around the area. She overheard their conversation that caused her to slow down.

“Have you read Jimin oppa’s confession?”

“Yes Yes about the kid! He really admitted to it! I cant believe that”

“Do you think that is real? I mean that is very suspicious what if oppa did that because of the company”

“Ugh that would be horrible. I cant believe Jimin oppa slept with a girl and had a baby”

“Did you see the girl?”

“She is plain”

”Super plain for Jimin oppa” they laughed loudly and coarsely.

She grazed her teeth together holding back the anger in her ‘Rude kids’ now she regretted for using that path as her way to the counter. After she paid all the stuffs she bought, she exited the market making her way back home with hope she would not encounter any miserable human being who made comments on Jimin’s life and hers.

Come to think about it, Yeoul sucked in remembering unfamiliar road, now she was losing it. She had no idea where she was. Yeoul scanned the area around her, just an hour ago she was sure that was the exact path she used from the dorm to the grocery store.

Biting her lower lips, she tried to concentrate and remember every single details on the area just in case she forgot. Yeoul stood there for 10 minutes with no answers, then frustration took over her mind. She mentally cursed herself for walking alone without waiting for the boys to get home, now she deserved to be punished.

She clutched onto her phone contemplating whether to give Jimin a call but Bangtan was still practicing for their upcoming concert. With heavy heart, she decided to wander aimlessly hoping to find a sign of hope in the middle of the road or anywhere.

Yeoul used GPS in her smart phone and diligently followed the path shown by it as it would direct her back to the grocery store. That was the only way to find her way back home, she had to start from scratch then problem settled.

Footsteps behind her snapped Yeoul out of her trance, she glanced over her shoulder to witness three young ladies tailing her. Waves of panic pounded through her temples, and she could feel a sick feeling churning in her belly.

As she quickened her pace,the footsteps behind her sped up to match her pace. Her heart began to beat faster. Were those girls following her? More to the point, who was following her and why?

‘This wont do..’ she made a sharp turn to the right, and she blamed herself for choosing this quiet alley. Out of all days, why did she make such a bad choice today? Yeoul slowed deliberately and spun around which startled the girls at first.

“Why are you following me?” she inquired. Even though she scared of what awaits in front of her, she had to get over this for the sake of her sanity.

“We are right. You are Na Yeoul” a girl with bang smug. Her smile was disturbing and for so many reasons, Yeoul felt something was not right. The auras from these three were too dark, full with hatred and vengeance.

Oh oh here comes trouble.

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This work belongs to  Chimswae © 2019. All Rights Reserved

[deborahdeshoftim5779]

Questions for HSM III (Part XIII)

Caption: “Yes, Chad, I am going to Berkeley. No, it wasn’t my decision.”

In all seriousness, the above still comes from one of the few tolerable scenes throughout this entire movie. Troy and Chad at their best, the best of friends. 

On The Musical- Part II

1- So, as we can see, Troy has (finally) shown up for the musical, performed his piece, given the usual stack of undue credit to Gabriella and received approval from the watching crowd. Like I said before, all of this is heavily overshadowed by the absolute punishment he endured in order to reach this point. Now, the plot needs Sharpay to be resurrected so that she can assert her place as Queen Bitch in line with story needs. Some would say that Sharpay’s part could have been resurrected by giving her the thoughtful, consistent and measured characterization that she deserved, given that her redeeming traits are just as fascinating as her significant flaws-- in fact, I would even go as far as to say that her redeeming traits are the reason for her significant flaws. A passionate love for the arts gives birth to her desire to win at all costs. Instead, we have a risible and cringe-worthy Bitch Competition between Sharpay and someone not fit to buckle her sandals. 

During the truly childish display that follows, one has to wonder about the opinion of the Juilliard judges at this point. They have, presumably excused, Troy’s initial no-show earlier. I highlight this point, because during the Sharpay-Tiara scene, you can see Mr and Mrs Evans reading what I assume is the program for the musical. Therefore I make the reasonable assumption that the Juilliard judges must also have had one with them. Furthermore, they also recognized Troy Bolton on sight. So, what do they make of Sharpay not appearing at the beginning of her next set (although due to reasons beyond her control), but then squabbling with a complete nobody onstage? 

Thus ends Sharpay’s storyline in this story, and what a miserable ending it is, too. 

On Graduation

1- Somewhat confused at part of the graduation ceremony seemingly happening right after the musical. Am I missing something here? Was this a different night altogether? I’m at a loss. 

2- Kelsi Nielsen getting the credit she deserves always makes me smile! Jason’s jump-hug for graduating is somewhat endearing, although begs the question of why he thought Troy’s potential scholarship opportunity was so hilarious earlier. Anyway, kudos to him. Turns out he could study in the library and do a musical at the same time-- who would have known?! Taylor McKessie-- yes, there was never any question. Next stop: The White House. Again. Ryan Evans getting a scholarship to Juilliard is another highlight of the show-- if not for the Royal Sham, every scene with Ryan in has been a pleasure to watch. And we also get to see Sharpay congratulating him, which SHOULD have been the culmination of her character arc, but instead comes after her being upstaged by two complete idiots for no good reason. Why Tiara Gold seriously thought that she would become Head of the Drama Department after her childish behaviour and ONE appearance as understudy is beyond me, but her lack of motivation and her dramatic exit are once again a reinder of her intrinsic uselessness to the plot. 

3- “And now a Senior, whom I believe, has a decision to make! Mr Troy Bolton!”

Christ Almighty, how to watch this scene without cringing into a corner! Now of course, as I said earlier, theatre is as much a part of Troy’s identity as basketball, so it’s unsurprising that he chose the both. But unfortunately, this revelation comes off the back of little information. Which other colleges offered Troy a place? When did Troy get to do his research on what each college offered by way of a major? The latter half of this movie has been dedicated to him crawling after his ungrateful girlfriend entirely at his own expense. Not ONCE throughout this movie has Gabriella shown ANY interest in his further education apart from making a few casual comments about the Coach from U of A... right at the beginning of the movie. This lack of information makes it implausible that Troy would have carefully thought out his decision to attend UC Berkeley, as we will see in a minute. Once again, this is proof that the movies were less interested in Troy the man, and more interested in Troy as a subsidiary of Gabriella Montez. What was the point in building up all of the anticipation with regards to Troy’s future, which included a full-scale mental breakdown in the gymn after school hours, if we get no context or information as to how he weighed his options? Instead, we got glorification left, right and centre and several scenes for Gabriella, whose options were comparatively clearer for her, and involved little to no struggle to achieve. For goodness sake, we got a meaningless sequence involving Gabriella chewing her nails as she walked around Stanford, yet not so much as a scene involving Troy looking at university prospectuses! Lazy writing at its finest. 

Furthermore, as if this decision wasn’t invalidated enough, Troy doesn’t even sound all that excited or pleased at the prospect of attending UC Berkeley. Or is it just me? He looked far more delighted when his friend Kelsi won the scholarship to Juilliard. (TINY scene, blink and you’ll miss it, but he looks very pleased for her). Given that they were both contenders for the scholarship, a final “Playmaker” scene between these two seemed FAR more appropriate than the upcoming travesty we’re about to hear. Like I said, Kelsi’s evolution is down to Troy, and the script could have reduced my anger with this film by recognizing that with another Trelsi scene designed to epitomise what their bond has represented for the entirety of the movie series. Instead we get the absolute travesty coming next.

A flat tone of voice and quick nod to affirm this decision (definitely pulled off the top of his head) is surely no way to underline the validity of this “decision”?

More importantly, please remember that Troy didn’t know what he would do if Juilliard said yes to him. Therefore is it right to assume that he could not have been thinking of Berkeley at this point in time? One has to wonder what he might have done if Juilliard had chosen him for a scholarship-- would we still get the travesty of an ending that we actually received? Given Troy’s propensity to throw away opportunities that benefit him for the sake of validaiton from his girlfriend and friends, he would have thrown away the scholarship opportunity again (he is so beleaguered and ineffectual at this point, thanks to Gabriella’s horrendous behaviour) for the sake of this odious relationship. 

4- “But most of all, I choose the person who inspires my heart... which is why I picked a school that is exactly 32... point 7... miles from you.”

Lord have mercy on this child. His doom is sealed. He has reached a point of no return in his quest for eternal servitude. What to say, folks? I must reiterate every event in the sinking of RMS Troy Bolton up until now: 1)- Gabriella’s insensitivity and lack of interest in Troy’s further education, 2)- Gabriella laughing at Troy potentially winning a scholarship to Juilliard, 3)- Gabriella withholding crucial information with regards to the Stanford Freshman Honors Program, 4)- Gabriella showing arrogance/rudeness when Troy finally found out, 5)- Gabriella rarely having any interest in Troy’s hurt when she leaves unceremoniously, 6)- Gabriella bailing on Troy for prom, the musical and graduation, 7)- Gabriella having to be persuaded to return, 8)- Every other time Gabriella has shown little to no interest in the effect of her actions on Troy, or anything that directly concerns him. After all of this, and all of her horrendous, cruel and selfish behaviour during HSM II, she is REWARDED by receiving Troy’s head on a platter for more of her abuse after graduation? I just can’t take this! 

What is more insiduous is that the whole crowd, including his fellow high school students are delighted by a “decision” that CLEARLY wasn’t voluntary! Every other student has either chosen or accepted a place based on their own academic merit. Call me old-fashioned, but this should be the primary, if not only, reason that one chooses to invest money in a higher institution. Also remember folks, that we don’t know whether Troy has been offered a scholarship to Berkeley-- I’m assuming not, given the reckless haste with which he made this decision. (WHEN, is what I’d like to know!!) So we have to assume that Troy will be FORKING OUT YET MORE CASH, which his parents were struggling to pay, on attending the UC Berkeley for ROMANTIC reasons which are prioritized over ACADEMIC reasons. Folks, this is pure tragedy. And because the audience are smiling, and sighing at this, we, the audience, are expected to consider this so very noble! Meanwhile, Gabriella would NEVER have made such a decision: she had always wanted to attend Stanford University, despite her whining to the contrary, since she was a child. Troy’s ambition had previously been the U of A. Even taking into consideration Mr. Bolton’s unreasonable pressure on Troy with regards to attending U of A, Troy did stand a good chance of getting said scholarship based on how impressed Mr Evans was with his practice. Why are we given no indication of Troy’s interactions with any other university during this movie? More importantly, why can NO ONE else in his class see the dreadful implications of this “decision”, despite having seen Troy’s descent into melancholy over the school year? For heaven’s sake, Gabriella dumped him over the phone-- isn’t that an omen? 

Chad should not have walked out in disappointment, but rather in anger, given that his best buddy was shackling himself to a girl who didn’t care two figs about him. But of course, Chad thinks Gabriella is one step ahead. 

What is the point of making Troy struggle about his academic future and pursuits if the most important reason for choosing UC Berkeley was romantic, rather than pragmatic/practical/reality-based/academic?

Furthermore, isn’t it absurd that Troy was so adamant against choosing a university that his father and Chad wanted him to attend, but then so blithely states that he will be following Gabriella to California? 

As for the claim that Gabriella “inspires my heart”, I have no words. If inspiring one’s heart means sending one into a pit of self-denial, self-destruction, instability, constant vulnerability, doubt and even depression, then I do not even know what the word “inspire” now means. Folks, there is NO WAY that these two continued to maintain a viable relationship after graduation. I have expounded on the reasons why throughout this “Questions” series and will continue to do so in future. Nevermind what the morally and technically deficient script claims. All the scriptwriters have done is just provide overwhelming and undeniable evidence that this couple is untenable, undesirable and downright alarming for Troy’s well-being and mental health, whilst believing that they were bringing a touching love story to life. Actually, they have just set the meaning of true love to burn on a bonfire. I can’t see them lasting even one semester more, let alone the implied years and years of romantic bliss. It’s just impossible. Meanwhile, Troy will still have a massive tuition bill over his head at the end of the three or four years of study, and precious little to show for his (latest) drastic “decision”. 

Why would the scriptwriters massacre their main protagonist in this way? How is this a happy ending, to have a young boy choosing his own path based on a RELATIONSHIP that hardly deserves the title, and not on the academic pursuits that have characterized his struggle? Again, on the first watch, I had completely lost the will to live by this point. 

An utter disgrace and an outrage by any decent standards. 

5- Chad Danforth has left the stage, people! As I mentioned before, Taylor relies upon Troy to reach out to Chad, thus demonstrating that despite all of her disloyal, unjust and quite frankly puzzling behaviour towards Troy, she does actually like him! Amazing. What follows is a far more palatable scene than the monstrosity we just witnessed. I like any and all Troy-Chad friendship scenes and this definitely does not disappoint. The brotherly affection and calm acceptance of the future is definitely worth watching, even if the patient viewer is still having seizures over Troy’s horrendous announcement. 

The way Chad reacts to Troy’s decision is representative of Chad himself, who is still bound by the Status Quo and very much reliant upon his friendship with Troy-- perhaps more so than Troy himself, who by now, is not afraid to try new things. Therefore, I think it is good in the long run that the boys attend different universities, as we see that Chad can shine on his own merits. Of course, there is some hypocrisy here, as is usually the case with Chad, in that he is disappointed (but presumably accepting) of Troy’s decision here, but always quick to jealousy when they are sharing the same opportunities. Anyway, I am willing to overlook this as the very least of Chad’s faults, in favour of the great banter and chemistry they share in this final scene. I also love their teamwork and yet friendly competition which is underlined by mutual respect and true brotherhood as well. Yes, a very touching scene. Pity that it alone cannot save this movie, which is taking in more water than the Titanic, but touching nonetheless. 

Likewise, I LOVE the hug between Troy and his father, highlighting mutual understanding, acceptance, love and loyalty. Again, more of THIS and less of you-know-what would have saved my faith. 

Troy’s Graduation Speech- The Parts You DIDN’T hear

1- As has been pointed out before (credit to BoltonEvans and others), Troy should not be giving the graduation speech. However, in a long line of questionable, outrageous and downright alarming script-writing decisions, this is one of the least offensive, so I just roll with it. During the first watch, I was barely listening anyway, having died shortly after Troy and Chad returned to the stage. 

2- “East High is a place where teachers encouraged us to break the Status Quo...”

Indeed, Troy. So what have you got to say for yourself?

This is a nonsensical statement, given that the Status Quo of Troy/Gabriella is never ever challenged, no matter the destructive effects, and the Wildcats largely, throughout the course of the series, continue with their dismissal, disloyalty and hypocrisy towards Troy and his ambitions. 

3- “...and define ourselves as WE choose...”

Did Troy write this speech before or after selling his soul? If he wrote it before, then this line is commendable. If he wrote it afterwards (which seems more likely), then he’s actually living on another planet. 

4- “Where a jock can cook up a mean crême brûlée...”

And then laugh at Troy for having aspirations in the Performing Arts. 

5- “Where a braniac can break down on a dance floor...”

Martha’s brain was largely abandoned in favour of casting her as a cheerleader, so this line rings hollow. But kudos anyway. 

6- “It’s a place where one person... if it’s the right person... changes us all.”

FOR THE WORSE. 

The only tolerable part of this involved Sharpay finally abandoning her disdain/Queen Bitch clothing to smile at Gabriella-- but it is a completely undeserved smile. If anyone deserves an encouraging smile, it should be Troy, who has endured hell in this movie, barely looks animated or excited whilst giving this speech, and has sold his soul in a long list of sacrifices for a relationship that only exists in his head. Gabriella has NOT changed everyone; Troy has. Troy has had much more to lose throughout the movie series, and has still gone against the grain. Troy is the one who reached out and made friends, brought people together and helped people to enjoy the performing arts. Troy is the one who has redefined his identity. (He’s also helped to destroy it). This is thoroughly false stuff. 

Why no line for Kelsi? I don’t really give two fucks about Martha’s breakdancing, and Troy barely interacted with her AT ALL. On the contrary, Kelsi is one of his best friends and their bond has been one of the few highlights throughout. We could have had a GREAT homage to the two Playmakers here, which would have signalled a fitting conclusion for one of the few decent relationships on this show. Why couldn’t he discuss how Kelsi had risen from being shy to realizing her worth as Playmaker? That would have been far more relevant to the show’s overall message. Or what about Ryan, who has risen from being seen as a Sideshow Bob to being valued on his own merit? What have either Zeke or Martha done that is so significant by comparison? Unjust exclusion by Troy here. 

7- “East High is having friends that we’ll keep for the rest of our lives.”

Troy continues his glorious trait of making grand predictions and assumptions based on little to no evidence at all. SOME friends should be kept, others discarded on the trash heap. *cough cough*

It is at this point that we get another cute Chaylor moment. Again, I am left stuttering that these two might not remain together, whilst the inevitability of Troyella is stamped across the screen. Anyone with a pair of eyes can see the effortless communication, sweetness, maturity and complementary nature of Chaylor supersedes every odious facet of the Troyella pairing. But nonetheless, a sweet Chaylor moment. 

8- “...once a Wildcat, always a Wildcat.”

Once disloyal, ungrateful, jealous, cruel and hypocritical, ALWAYS... You fill in the rest. Okay, I’m being mean. Yes, the Wildcats make a decent team when they are together. 

And, of course, everyone cheers because hey! Plot reasons. 

To cap it all off, we get a catchy song that it admittedly enjoyable. I was slightly resurrected from my death during the first watch so that I could nod along to the beat. Sadly, I was not “sad we have to let it go”, because of the heinous screenwriting and character crimes witnessed therein. Still, catchy. Like I said, this movie did a decent job with the music and choreography throughout; there were great tunes, great sets, great costumes, great scenes and so on. Visually speaking, this movie definitely lived up to at least the very first one. Unfortunately, the story so wore me down and eventually infuriated me that I struggle to give these other factors their proper due. Am I too sour and ungrateful? Perhaps. 

Nonetheless, I hope you have enjoyed this “Questions” series!

This was actually based on me watching the movie alongside writing these out, whereas I did the HSM II one based on memory. Depending on what you guys think, I might try the same for at least HSM II later, but I also want to work on other stuff, particularly my favourite relationships (Trelsi, thou shalt not be forgotten!!!) and dreaming up HSM headcanons. Feel free to make suggestions, and let me know what you think. 

Thanks for reading!