#watching the movie is like watching a kid grow up and the emotional rollercoaster ride i go on every time i watch it is chefs kiss

[unbreakmyhead]

everyday i fight the urge to watch Luca for the 625301927369376228939th time

[ve1vetyoongi]

wherever you will go | jjk

Pairing: Jungkook x female reader

Genre: actor!oc, director!jungkook, smut, angst, humour.

Word count: 21k

Summary:  Not much happens when you grow up by the coast. Tourists come and go, the theatre where you work shows the same shows over and over and there’s always sand and salt in the air. Your dreams of making it big in the city are exactly that: dreams. When your hopes of becoming an actress are shattered into a million pieces, you find yourself getting drawn to a captivating up-and-coming movie director by the name of Jeon Jungkook. With his bright eyes and charming smile, he seems determined to glue your pieces back together -- even if it means leaving Ocean City behind for good.

Warnings: themes of loss/grief, mentions of death of a parent, dom!jungkook, dom/sub themes, spanking, squirting, unprotected sex, oral sex (f recieving).

Rating: Mature.

A/N: Hello loves! HAPPY JK DAY!! This fic is a lil celebration of our golden boy Jungkook so I hope you enjoy!! This whole fic is sickeningly fluffy and reads like a pretentious YA novel but ya girl wrote this while she was stuck in quarantine a few weeks ago and I debated not posting this bc I lowkey love it lowkey hate it so pleasedonthateme if it’s bad LOL. Also -- just incase you haven’t read the warnings already there is a running theme that deals with the loss of a parent (a topic very close to my heart, hence why this piece was especially healing to write.) so reader discretion is advised if that is triggering to you in any way shape or form!!!! P.P.S Largely unedited so pls bare with any mistakes!

Prelude.

You're late for your work shift, you note, as you catch sight of your watch face glaring up at you menacingly from the arm clutching the handle bars of your bike. As if your mood couldn't get any more miserable -- the dreary morning drizzle that falls from the sky and drips icily down the back of your nape was bad enough.

Goddamn, you groan to yourself as you will your feet to pedal ever faster. Now my hair is gonna be frizzy.

It's a Saturday and the theatre where you work always opens earlier at the weekends. You promised you'd be on time today, but yet here you are, speeding down the worn in sandy sidewalks of your seaside town a whole block away when you should've been opening up half an hour ago.

It's a habit of yours, being late. And as hard as you try, you just can't change a habit. But it can't be helped you suppose. Continuity is all you've ever known. That's the thing about living in a tiny seaside town. Things never change.

The view from your bedroom window has been the same for as long as you can remember — Ocean City — Aka, block after block of rainbow coloured houses with flaky paint leading up to the harbour where boats bob nonchalantly and fishermen reel in their catches beneath the gull filled sky. Beyond it the beach; greyish rolling waves and upturned pebbles nestled atop of hard sand in the winter and clear water and brightly coloured beach towels and brave surfers in the summer.

Nobody ever leaves, and the tourists that arrive in summer never stay. Life becomes a predictable practice, just each day lived out to the next in an endless cycle of never ending continuity. It's suffocating and endless and sometimes you feel like you're just a pawn on a giant chess board, destined to move one agonising square forward at a time, never diagonally. It's hard to change directions when you've been taught to stick to what you know.

You didn't always live here, in this town of continuity. You lived in the big city for a while, where no day was the same as another. But after your mother died you and your older brother were shipped off to live with your dad, who wouldn't know the definition of adapting if it hit him square in the face. He's always been the same square shouldered, balding dude in his forties who never wanted kids and never quite got over losing your mother to the big buck actor she ran off with when you were two.

So that's how you ended up here. Late for work at your job in the country's most prized vacation spot. And your boring reality.

You roll past the beach huts on the shoreline that alternate between vibrant pink and muted blue, barely paying attention to the boardwalk with its little boat house that stretches out into the horizon like a crooked finger. When it gets dark, you can spot the pier carnival lights flashing in the distance from here as they dance across the reflection of the pale white moon and play among the waves.

Even now, the yellow lights of the ornate street lamps that line the water's front shine like tiger's eyes against the sky just like they always have when you turn down the familiar route that takes you past the winding lanes of trinket shops and the happy hour bars and the carnival that feels strangely empty at such an early hour, not a single rollercoaster ride in operation.

Before long you're skidding to a stop outside of the The Crestmont, the old theatre where you work. It's everything you'd expect from a vintage cinema; pink and blue neon lights and a gold trimmed ticket booth out front with a three-sided marquee that extends from the front of the building like a brightly lit airport runway. You hurry beneath it, grateful for the protection it provides from the rain that has started to come down in lashes now, before heading over to the rack around the back of the building where you can chain your bike.

The Crestmont used to be somewhat of a hotspot back in the day or so your told, but these days it only shows cartoons at a discounted price for the neighbourhood kids and the occasional local production of some worn out musical everyone has seen a hundred times before. It's lost all it's magic, everyone says. But you disagree; you probably spend more time here than anyone, and there's magic in every inch of this place.

From the red velvet curtains to the grand chandelier, The Crestmont is one of a kind. Sometimes you disappear into the theatre by yourself for a while unbeknownst to your manager. You can almost taste the laughter and the tears and the love that has been spilled and shared unapologetically amongst these seats. Pure magic.

Your mom left a piece of herself here, too. If you close your eyes you can hear her laughter spilling out into the theatre, or her lilting singing voice filling every nook and cranny like a haunting siren. She was the Crestmont's star. Ocean City's sweetheart.

There's a wall of fame in the lobby. It's covered in portraits crested with gold frames, all filled with pictures of the Crestmont's greatest performers. You've spent hours there — (turns out it's the perfect hiding spot from your manager) — fingers tracing the plaques beneath each one, all inscribed with names that townsfolk whisper with dreamy looks in their eyes. Some are black and white, some colour, but all of them depict pretty faces with beaming smiles that never seem to fade.

Not even your mom's. Her smile is pearly and bright, right above the plaque with her birthdate. And her death date.

And right there at the end, an empty frame. Your frame. You can feel it. You already know how you'll pose for your picture. Hair over one shoulder, hand on hip, smile so convincing that it'll be like every happiness in your heart is written right across your forehead proudly, and you won't have to dull it any longer.

You finish hooking a chain around the handlebars of your bike, catching sight of your reflection in the darkened windows. Staring back at you is a girl dressed in a maroon v-neck with a preppy dicky bow tied around her collar. You frown. The white shirt itches and the high waisted pants make your crotch look weird but the uniform is compulsory. The only thing uglier is the sour expression on your face, which you try to smooth out with your thumb, experimenting with plastering a sickly smile to your face instead. It might be convincing if your lips didn't strain and your eyes weren't so prone to rolling without your permission.

You need to learn to hide your emotions, your father said. You have your feelings written across your face. Customers don't like that.

It's true; customer's didn't usually like you, your unforgiving face or when you spilled cola down their blouse or spat in their popcorn. One more complaint and you were on the path to being fired once and for all, and although in some ways you would be glad to say goodbye to the stupid slushie machine that always gets stuck and the ungrateful customers and the goddamn uniform, you can't loose this job.

Not when it's your ticket to making it big. Then customers will point to your picture as they pass and clutch their chest with a snide superiority, Oh! Can you believe she served me a cola once? I always knew she was gonna make it! instead of Would it kill you to smile a little, honey?

So you swallow a sigh and make your smile as convincing as possible and march inside of the ornate theatre doors of The Crestmont, hoping that today may be the day where things finally change for once.

Where it begins

"I'm going to work!" You call as you you pull a baseball cap down over your hair to cover it's unbrushed wildness. "I won't be back for a while so don't wait up, okay Taehyung?"

You pause with your hand on the door, listening carefully for a response; the small house you live in pulsates with the bass of some indie rock album your brother and his friends are obsessed with at the moment, and your eyes roll when you peer up the staircase and find Taehyung's bedroom door firmly closed like always.

With a shake of your head you scribble out a message on a sticky note — GONE 2 WORK. — and leave it for him to read when he eventually emerges from his man cave in search of sustenance and finds you gone.

You brush away the funny ache that nestles in your stomach. This is nothing new. You're used to not being heard. Your dad is always gone for trips you suspect involve more play than work, and your older brother pretends he's not broken by hanging around with the neighbourhood cool kids and barraging himself in his room for days on end. Despite living under one roof it feels as though you're miles apart, an invisible barrier separating you indefinitely.

You weren't always like this; distant, always stepping on eggshells around each other. You were a family once. A happy one. But since the accident there's been an absence in this house, and nothing has been the same since.

Still, you know that beneath Taehyung's standoffish persona, he's still your big brother. He worries about you. So you tack the note to the fridge and make your way outside.

The lawn is already brown despite it only being late May, and summer is shaping up to be hot and sticky, though you live two blocks away from the beach so the coolness of the ocean still thankfully pervades against your perspiring skin, the gulls already calling you with their high pitched squaks from down at the shoreline.

You've barely made it to the end of the drive before there's the sound of knuckles rapping against glass. You look up and your heart jumps into your mouth. Staring back at you is a pair of dark eyes from behind the upstairs windowpane. Even from this distance you can see how they shine, deep and dark like a cup of black coffee, and you'd recognise the annoyingly cute smirk that matches them anywhere.

Jungkook. Jeon Jungkook. Taehyung's best friend, and, unfortunately, your crush for as long as you knew what the word love meant.

"Hey, Y/N!" Your heart sinks when the window slides open and a messy head of brown hair sticks out through the gap and points at you with a pout. "You're leaving already? Without me?"

Oh; another thing about Jeon Jungkook. He's also your co-worker, which means you spend 16 hours a week in his company, much to the glee of your heart and the dismay of your conscience.

You weren't exactly surprised when you turned up to the Crestmont theatre for your first shift and were left in the capable hands of none other than Jungkook to teach you the ins and the outs of the popcorn machine and the ticket booth.

For as long as you've known him he's been somewhat of a film buff. He practically grew up holding a camera. You always used watch him and your brother making home movies in the backyard, fit with ketchup sachets for blood and endless costumes from your mom's closet. And the one time you stayed at his house when your dad went away for a while after the accident, you saw all the classic movie posters on his bedroom wall; Casablanca, Singing in the Rain, Jaws. So it made total sense for Jungkook to be at the Crestmont. In fact, you couldn't imagine him anywhere else.

That day you were mostly just surprised that he knew who you were at all. While you had spent years watching him from your bedroom window while he kicked a ball around with Taehyung or avoiding his eyes at the table when he stayed for dinner, he had never so much as glanced in your direction.

Deep down you think the reason he was so quick to take you under his wing is because he knew first hand how hard the accident hit your family. You suppose he feels he owes it to Taehyung to keep you in high spirits.

Although if you weren't you and he wasn't him, you'd swear Jungkook's attentions had become almost flirtatious as of late. He always goes the extra mile to spend time with you, and you even though you know it'll end up with you getting hurt you can't bring yourself to stop him.

You see, Jungkook has a gift for subtle charm. Like how he always sneaks you sodas out back on your lunch break, never forgetting the extra syrup — tooth rottingly sweet just how you like it — slipping one of his own dollars into the cash register to avoid a telling off from your manager. Or how he insists on helping you clean up after the theatre is empty, showing you the best secret places like down the back off seats to find misplaced trinkets and the creaky floorboard where your manager hides his cigarettes. How he insists on walking you home after the evening shift, even if he says he's going this way to see Taehyung anyway.

You've spent countless hours pondering over whether his sweet talking words mean as much to him as they do to you. And as much as you know it's unlikely for someone like Jeon Jungkook to ever have feelings for you, you can't help the way your heart speeds up every time he shoots you one of his signature bunny smiles that light up his whole face like he's happiness personified. And you can't bring yourself to hate him for it.

"I did call," you respond matter of factly, finally sucking in a breath of courage to turn around and squint up at him through the afternoon sun with a shrug. "But that trash you're listening too was too loud for you guys to hear me."

Jungkook's eyes widen as he fumbles around beneath the windowsill and pops up again holding up a shiny vinyl record sleeve. You recognise it instantly; it's from his favourite film — Submarine. He hardly ever shuts up about it.

"This is not trash. This is, like, the best movie soundtrack ever made!" He shakes his head as he takes the needle off of Taehyung's vintage record player, music ceasing with a scratch, and slips it into the sleeve with a grin. "Good thing I have it downloaded so we can listen to it on the way to work, hm?"

You roll your eyes and tap your foot impatiently, and at that, Taehyung appears behind him.

"You're leaving already?" He frowns, words directed at Jungkook even as he glances through narrowed eyes at you stood awkwardly on the front lawn.

"Yup. My shift starts in twenty." Jungkook shrugs, disappearing into the room for a second before he emerges again with a backpack slung over his shoulder. "Sorry dude. I can come back afterwards though, if you want?"

Taehyung purses his lips. Even from here you can see the stress lines embedded in his forehead that make him look older than his humble age of nineteen, somehow weak unlike how you always saw him as a kid. Big and strong; untouchable; your brother.

His blunt eyes never quite meet Jungkook's as he shakes his head softly. "'S good. I was gonna try and sleep, anyway, before the sun goes down. Didn't get much shut eye last night. Not with the..."

Nightmares. Taehyung trails off, but you know that's what he's alluding to. The nightmares that turn your big strong brother into a sniffling mess in the dead of night, kicking around mercilessly until you sneak into his bed and whisper to him until he slips into slumber again. Not that you ever acknowledge it in the morning over your bowls of cereal and vacant good morning's.

"Okay." Jungkook's face momentarily falls; a rare occurrence from the boy who seems to be perpetually cheerful. He pats Taehyung on the shoulder gently. "Take care of yourself, okay man?"

Taehyung just nods, letting out a yawn as he rolls into a stretch. "See ya tomorrow."

You're jolted from your thoughts when Jungkook throws his left leg out of the window, then the other, arms bulging in just the right way where they poke out of the sleeves of his plain white tee as he climbs down the drainpipe and lands with a thump on the soles of his high top sneakers.

"Hey kiddo." He grins as he wipes the palms of his hands on the thighs of his ripped jeans, before messing up your hair despite your groan of protest.

"Don't call me that. You're only a year older than me."

You're startled when you meet the pair of warm eyes that glint golden brown in the summer evening light, chest contracting as you look away and break into a fast walk towards the street.

"And you know you can just use the front door right?"

You hear him snort behind you, neglecting to use the front gate and instead launching over the fence so he lands directly in front of you on the sidewalk.

"How am I supposed to impress my best friends little sister if I can't show off my guns?" He flexes his arm, but you just brush past him with a roll of your eyes.

"You're an idiot."

You hear the clunk of his bike chain unhooking from the gate, before a set of wheels pedal up on the sidewalk beside you. "Hey! Where are you going?"

"Uh, to work?" You offer bluntly, squinting at him through the sun. "You should be too, we start in fifteen minutes."

"I mean why are you walking? What happened to your bike?"

You roll your eyes. "Some tourist kids slashed the wheels at the beach."

"Shit. Really?" Jungkook tuts, but you don't miss the glint in his eye as he nods towards the pegs on the back of his bike that were made for carrying a passenger."Then I guess it's my lucky day. Hop on, we can ride together."

You come to a standstill, arms crossed tightly. "I'd rather walk."

"Oh come on!" He wiggles his eyebrows. "It'll take double the time if we go on foot, and I recall it being you who got a final late warning last week."

"If we go on foot?" You laugh breathily, determined to stand your ground. "Just go on ahead, I'm good here."

"Well, I'm not exactly going to leave you here alone on the side of the road now am I? So I'll be forced to walk with you. And I'm older than you remember? Look, I'm already out of breath! My legs aren't what they used to be, y'know."

"Fine!" With a pout you take the helmet resting in his front basket and hook it underneath your chin, biting your lip to stop a smile from gracing your lips at the excitement that lights up Jungkook's features. "But only because I want you to shut up."

"Your wish is my command." He says with a pat to your head. "Hold on tight, okay?"

And as you wrap your arms around his waist, you're sure his ears heat up a deep shade of red, even it could just be the evening light playing tricks on you.

The theatre at the Crestmont feels eerily quiet when its empty.

You know that because even though your shift was supposed to end at 5, you offered to stick around to help clean up after today's performance. Phantom of the Opera.

"Jesus," You groan as you pick up another sticky soda cup that someone had kindly spilled all over the ground for you to clean up, dropping the offender into a black trash bag. "Doesn't anyone around here know how to use a trash can?"

You fall into one of the theatre seats with a sigh and run your fingers over the scarlet velvet, worn yet plush, the texture soothing you instantly. You tilt your head back and let the silence engulf you. No orchestra, no musical numbers, no stage crew shouting directions. No whirring cotton candy machine. Just you and the stage.

From here you can see every detail on the high ceiling littered with renaissance-style paintings of mermaids and babies armed with heart shaped bow and arrows. Your mom was an actress. When you were a kid you used to spent hours staring at them while she rehearsed. You were convinced they came alive once the theatre closed up for the night, their cheeky smiles evidence of a secret only you knew.

A trail of rainbows is cast by the grand chandelier hung in the center, and it draws your attention all the way down the aisles and up to the stage.

The Crestmont is only small, fitting perhaps 200 people at most. It's hardly Broadway. But the fire in your chest ignites as you glance side to side before sidling up the creaking wooden steps that wind up to the Crestmont's center stage. Your favourite part of the whole theatre.

It's not the first time you've done this. You often like to come up here after everyone has gone home, even though you technically aren't supposed to. There's a certain magic about being alone up here as you collect the lone roses that were thrown on stage by tonight's audience. Breathing in the musty smell of butter popcorn that lingers on the velvet curtains, feel the warmth of the bright stage lights glazing your skin. Something about it feels like home.

The first time you ever saw the Crestmont stage was on tv, watching a grainy camera shakily capture your mom in the very same spot you find yourself right now.

Your mom used to have a cardboard box filled with her old audition tapes. Everything from Hamlet to A Streetcar Named Desire, she'd starred in it, and you spent hours together in front of the television set trying to memorise the way she spoke your favourite lines and listening to her lilting voice recite backstage anecdotes about her rendezvous with foreign directors who dined on her in Paris or underground parties with celebrities you had never even heard of as she stroked your hair.

It wasn't until you got a little older that you realised that, just like you, your mom was a dreamer. Sure, she'd visited a couple different states and starred in some makeup commercials once, and that was enough to make her a celebrity in a town as small as this.

But really? She was just a small town actress with dreams larger than herself and way larger than the Crestmont where she made her name. And suddenly the gaps in time where she would disappear for weeks — sometimes months — on end no longer made sense to you. If she wasn't drinking cocktails with the prince of Monaco or clubbing in London, then where was she?

"Down town with those no good roadies," Taehyung told you once. "They made all these empty promises. Told her she'd make it big if she just did what they said. But look how that turned out."

That was the day you realised your mom was a better actress than you ever knew.

She always thought that her dreams would come true. She believed it so hard that you believed it too, naively. But who knows? Maybe they would have if she didn't get into an accident on her way to New York for her big break.

It's easy to imagine how your mom felt up here. She always looked so alive and free in those VHS tapes as she danced effortlessly across the stage with an ethereal weightlessness, the theatre silent except for the melodic sweetness of her monologues that drew tears to the eyes of those who listened eagerly.

If you close your eyes you can hear the roar of the crowd, hands clapping furiously. The orchestra tuning their brass in the pit, bows melodic against strings. Flowers landing at your feet. The deep breath of satisfaction as you take your final bow and the curtain closes.

Just like that you're moving across the stage, reciting the lines you know so well...

"You're gonna be a star like me some day," A voice whispers against your ear, soft and gentle. A memory. Your mom. "Just like me."

And just like that, she's there. In the audience, clapping. For you. And you feel invincible.

The sound of applause breaks you out of your trance. Real applause. You find yourself stood center stage, broom in hand, staring out at row after row of empty seats that gape with the same emptiness that was here when you arrived.

Except one of the velvet lined seats is filled now. Right at the front.

"Encore!" Jungkook whistles, the harsh thwacks of his palms clapping together clanging inside your ears. "Do it again! That was amazing!"

Your chest seizes painfully, a sudden bout of panic turning your blood cold. You feel the colour leave your face. How long has he been here? How long has he been watching?

Jungkook is watching you attentively, eyes soft at the edges with wonder. It makes bile rise in your throat. You can't be up here. Not when there's a pair of eyes looking at you, judging.

"I..." You begin, but the words get caught in your throat.

"I can't do this."

The way Jungkook's eyes widen and he lurches forward to catch you is the last thing you see before your vision goes black.

The boardwalk is strangely quiet for a summer evening. It's happy hour so you suppose most vacationers are already in the bars in their I LOVE OCEAN CITY T-shirts drinking cocktails or whatever. Not that you're complaining.

The smell of hotdogs and vinegar from the vans that line the strip still fill the air, snatches of conversations from children begging their parents to let them go on the waltzer one last time barely audible above the tinkling bells of the carousel. The ride operators drink soda's as they fan themselves with rolled up newspapers, grateful for the gentle hubbub on such a sticky evening, and then there's you, caught up in the middle of it all.

The wooden boards of the pier are warm against he backs of your thighs. You're sat with your legs dangling through the peeling guard rail that lines the strip. It was painted pastel blue at some point but years of sea spray and grubby hands made it fade to a sickly green tinge that matches the ocean.

Speaking of, the ocean would usually be directly below your feet, murky and wild, but today the tide has receded right back to reveal a large strip of sand. The stands suspending the pier rest on top of it so that you could walk right under and around them if you wanted to. You and Taehyung used to do that all the time when you were kids. Searching for barnacles. Exploring the dark places.

"Here. Eat up. You totally passed out on me back there. You could probably do with some sugar."

The soft voice beside you is the only thing loud enough to permeate your daydreams. You don't have look up to know who it belongs to. Jungkook.

He peers down at you, sun beating down against his back. He's holding two vanilla ice cream cones, double scooped, and he thrusts one into your hands before mirroring your position at the edge of the boardwalk.

The walk down here from the Crestmont was more or less silent, and your stomach twists now you realise Jungkook wants to talk.

"What are you thinking about?"

"Nothing." You lie. The ice cream is cold and sweet and covers the bitterness. "I just think it's funny."

Jungkook's tongue sneaks out to lick up the melted cream dribbling down his cone. "What is?"

"How this place stays the same but I feel so different." You were born here, raised here. This place was your whole life once, with it's salty air and bustling casino's. But since the accident, something's been bubbling inside you, swelling and crashing like the ocean below that taunts you and you've never felt farther from home in your life as you do now, looking out over the town that just won't budge, just like the funny ache in your chest. "Forget I said it. I don't know why I'm even telling you this."

Jungkook fidgets beside you and runs a hand through his hair with a sigh."It's okay, y'know. To miss her."

Your mom. You know that's who he means. Just the mention of her stings.

"Mhm." You snort. "Tell that to my family. If we all carried on missing mom then we'd be in pretty hot shit by now."

"If it's Taehyung you're worried about, then don't be. He's stronger than he looks."

"Until he's not anymore. And we lose him again just like—" You pause. You hate how you can hear the pain in your voice so you smooth it out. "Just like before. And I can't let that happen. I won't."

Jungkook shifts. As Taehyung's oldest friend he was there for everything in the aftermath of the accident. He was there when you put on a brave face for the sake of your family. He was there when Taehyung couldn't be any more.

"That doesn't mean you have to be strong all the time. Think about it this way. The ocean isn't always this calm right?" He gazes wistfully out over the ocean that swells and crashes against the shore, fingers twirling the gold chain around his neck. "Last winter when we had that huge storm, the waves were so big they smashed right through the pier support beams."

You furrow your brows. "What about it?"

"The ocean was just too much for the pier to bare and it would've come crashing down forever if half the neighborhood didn't come down to the beach in the dead of night, despite the rain, and hold it together until the storm calmed and the emergency repair boats could get to shore."

It's true. You remember how unforgiving the rain was as it pelted down against your back and froze you through to the bone that night as each and every familiar face from your neighborhood came down to the seafront to lend a hand, your family included.

Jungkook was there too. He was the one who knocked on your door in the early hours to spread the word. He got given free churros for life by one of the pier stall owners as a reward.

"What I'm trying to say Y/N, is that Taehyung has you to lean on, right? So who do you have?" Jungkook says, staring at you head on now. His sincerity almost makes you blush.

You bite your lip. Deep down you know that your beams are just as broken as Taehyung's and it's only a matter of time before they come crashing down into the water, and this time there'll be nobody to hold the pieces together.

"I don't need anyone. I'm just fine on my own. I can handle my ocean."

Jungkook brushes your hand. You flinch, so he pulls it back into his lap. "Well if you ever need a life boat, then you know where I am okay?"

You don't believe him, but he's staring at you so expectantly that you just tell him what he wants to hear. You're good at that.

"Okay." You whisper. "Okay."

Children's laughter bubbles up from the beach. You watch their distant silhouettes dancing among the waves. It's Jungkook who breaks the silence before it settles between you and becomes uncomfortable.

"Anyway, what were you doing up there on the stage today?" He smiles, like he's trying to lighten the mood. "You looked like you were having the time of your life before—"

You feel your cheeks start to burn. How long had Jungkook been watching you at the Crestmont? Had he seen the whole thing?

"It was nothing. I was just being dumb."

"Nothing?" Jungkook cocks his head to the side and punches you playfully. "It didn't seem like nothing."

"It just...it makes me feel close to my mom when I'm on the stage." You admit. "I loved watching her when I was a kid. She was always larger than life in my eyes. She had this way of making you really believe she was someone else. It was like she wasn't just acting -- she was becoming. Sometimes...sometimes I think I liked her better when she was in character."

You shake your head with a small smile. "I like me better when I'm in character. I used to dream about going to New York one day and becoming an actress just like she wanted to. Small town girl making it big in the city and all that." You scoff. "But I'm nothing like her. It's just fun to pretend sometimes."

"You're good. At performing. Like, really good." Jungkook's eyes are wide. When he places a hand on your forearm you don't shake it off this time. "You take after her. Everyone says it."

It's true. There's one photo of your mom in the house. It's in Taehyung's room. When you were younger you thought it was your face staring back at you from behind the glass. Sometimes you'll be walking down the boardwalk or serving soda's at work and you'll hear the whispers. See their heads turn. Is it her?

"Pfft. Looks mean nothing." You scoff. "She was fearless. I can't even speak in front of one person without passing out, let alone a crowd."

Realisation crosses Jungkook's face. "Oh. So that's what happened back there? Stage fright?"

"Uh huh." You roll your eyes. "So don't give me the follow your dreams spiel or whatever."

"Hmm." Jungkook uses his arms as a makeshift pillow so he can lay back against the ground. You mirror him, peering through your fingers to watch how the golden rays of the sun swallow his frame. "Remember that play they made us do in middle school?"

"The Nativity?" You raise your eyebrow. It was the first theatre production you were in, before the accident and way before you had stage fright.

"Yeah." He grins. "I was the sheep. Taehyung made fun of me for months afterwards because of that stupid costume my grandma made."

"Yeah." You snort. "You did look sorta dumb."

Jungkook bumps your arm with a playful pout that makes you giggle. "And do you remember how I forgot my lines on stage and nearly pissed myself with stage fright? God, I still remember how mad my dad looked in the front row. We'd practiced that part for weeks. I don't know why it happened. I just froze—" A small smile forms on his lips. "But you didn't. Next thing I know there's a kid in a gold star of Bethlehem costume running on stage to recite my lines for me. You stole the show, remember that? Everyone loved you."

"That was then." You murmur, but you can't suppress the smile tugging at the corners or your mouth. "I'm not the same person."

"You were a year younger than the rest of my class but you auditioned anyway, because you knew that you were the only person who could play the star. Because you were a star."

Jungkook turns so that his head rests on his elbow and you're suddenly so close you can feel his breath ghost across your cheek. Your heart pumps in your ears as you gaze dips down to his rosy lips and back up to his sparkling eyes which bore into yours.

"You still are a star."

The words echo in your ears, soft and sincere. His tongue snakes out to wet his lips. You lose your breath. And then you jump away, placing a safe distance between your bodies before you can do something you regret.

"And what about you. Are you still a sheep?" You tease, turning your face so he can't see how it burns rosy red.

"Nah. Figured out pretty quickly after that that I was better off behind the camera." He chuckles.

"Oh right. You still have that thing?" You nod to the camera in his lap. It's one of those old ones that looks like the type that needs a film reel and a projector, but it's been modified so there's a little viewfinder at the side to check the footage instead. "Can I see?"

"What?" Jungkook blinks.

"Some of the stuff you've filmed?"

"Oh! Right!" It's his turn to flush now, scratching the back of his neck as he anxiously thrusts the camera into your hands and pays close attention to the hangnail at the edge of his thumb as you watch the footage.

Your eyes widen when a familiar scene rolls out on the tiny screen. You, on stage at the Crestmont. Jungkook filmed you.

"This is..."

"You." He rushes."Yeah, I know. Sorry if this is awkward—"

"No. Not at all. I just—" You watch in awe as the you inside the camera moves across the stage with an effortless grace. How the lights make your eyes shine and your skin brighter than you remember it being in the mirror this morning. "How did you do that?"

Jungkook's forehead creases. "Do what?"

"Make me look like...that."

"I didn't do anything." Jungkook shrugs. "That's just how I see you."

You could listen to him say that all day, but you stop yourself mid swoon.

"Don't say things you don't mean."

"I do mean it. And I'll show you." He wiggles his eyebrows.

"How?"

He grabs your hand and squeezes it. Tight. "I don't know how yet but I will."

You roll your eyes. "Good luck, Jeon."

"You know I like a challenge." Jungkook laughs, and the melodic sound goes right to your chest. "I'll make you see yourself how I see you. Just wait."

"Since when did you have four wheels?" You call to Jungkook with a quirk of your brow, resting your elbows on the window ledge of the beat up truck he pulls up in outside the Crestmont.

It's a sticky August afternoon and the rusty red vehicle purrs— or more like splutters — in the parking lot as Jungkook untangles your bike from the rack and lifts it into the cargo bed like it's weightless. Just yesterday he came by with his pump and a patch to fix that goddamn slashed tyre, and now he's stealing it?

"Hey! What are you doing with my bike?"

He is clad in nothing but a white vest and board shorts, and you can see perspiration glimmering at his temples as the salty breeze blowing from the beach ruffles the dark curls that flop over his forehead.

"This is my dad's truck," His eyes flash with pride as he hops into the open drivers side door and makes the engine growl. He nods to the empty seat beside him and pushes his dark round sunglasses down the bridge of his nose, fanning his face with his hands. "And you won't be needing your bike today. Now hurry up and get in, loser. I've been waiting ages for your shift to finish and the AC is broken."

You raise a brow. "We're going somewhere?"

"Yeah. Why else would I be waiting for you to get in my truck?"

"I mean, we're going somewhere in this?" You nod towards the truck's worn tires, the fumes that wisp from the exhaust pipe like a lit cigar. "Are you sure it's safe?"

Jungkook notices the way you bite your lip. You don't even have to tell him the worries that are running through your mind. It's as if he can read them like an open book.

"Are you still scared of riding in cars?" He questions, softly.

You nod. That's what an accident does to someone. Makes them scared of something they ordinarily wouldn't even question.

"A little." The breeze ruffles your hair and you hide behind it. "I'm getting better." You add, so he doesn't feel bad because you know he does. His face tells you as much.

"It's a short drive, if that helps." He rushes. "And I asked Taehyung and he said you'd be okay, but if you aren't then I can just walk you home—"

"No." You shake your head firmly. There's a funny fizzing in your stomach that's been there ever since that day on the boardwalk, and it's only growing stronger and stronger now you're inches away from Jungkook and his warm eyes and gentle smile. You don't want it to end just yet. It's enough to outweigh the wriggling fear that's always inside you just a little. "Where are we going?"

Jungkook's face lights up and your heart flips when you realise it's because of you.

"I told you I was gonna make you see what I see, didn't I?"

"Oh that was today?" You tease. "Must have missed it it in the calendar."

"Stop asking questions! Just get in. Please?"

"Fine." You walk around to the passenger door, sliding in beside him and throwing your bag into the back seat. "But I need to be home by midnight or Taehyung will worry."

"No problemo." Jungkook salutes as he switches on the engine and the truck roars to life. You clasp your hands tightly in your lap and breathe through your nose. You're okay. You're safe."Home by midnight. It's a promise."

You gaze out of the window to stop your thoughts from running wild. Jungkook turns left, away from town and the beach and everything familiar. You watch it get smaller and smaller in the mirrors, strangely relieved. Strangely excited.

"Now will you tell me where we're going?" You ask.

"Nope." Jungkook chuckles when you pout. "Just sit back. Relax. Take in the view. Listen to the music."

He leans across the dash, making a point to keep his eyes on the road as he fiddles with the stereo. A familiar string of guitar chords fill the truck. You recognise them, even if vaguely. Probably from Taehyung's vast collection of records.

"The Beatles right?" You ask, resting your chin on your knee as you dare to take a peek at him, blushing when you find him already staring at you.

"Pfft, yeah. Of course it's The Beatles! Only their greatest soundtrack, like, ever."

You shrug. "I've never listened to them before, so I wouldn't know."

"Oh come on? You haven't seen A Hard Day's Night?" His eyes widen when you shake your head. "Super Fly? Pulp Fiction? Purple Rain?"

You stifle a giggle at the look of pure shock he's sending you. "Nope. Should I have?"

"Absolutely!" He splutters. Passion shines in his eyes. "You're missing out on some of the greatest cinematography known to man!"

"I guess you have a lot to fill me in on, then."

"I sure do." His eyes soften. "Open the glove box."

You open it. Inside you find an assortment of cassette tapes, old and new. You send him a curious look.

"Close your eyes and choose one." He nods. "Go on."

You do as he says and shut your lids tightly, feeling around until your fingers curl around a tape you're strangely drawn to. When you open your eyes you find a worn box in your palm, yellow at the edges, and you're momentarily disappointed until Jungkook hums in approval beside you.

"Good choice! Dirty Dancing. A classic." He takes it from you and slides the tape into the stereo. It crackles a little before the music starts. "Trust me, you'll love it."

The stereo tracklist flashes amber. 01: Do You Love Me?

"You broke my heart 'cause I couldn't dance," Jungkook sings along in a deep voice, eyebrows bouncing as you loll your head to the side to send him an eye roll. "And now I'm back to let you know I can really shake 'em down!"

The song starts, all vibrant guitar and drums. It has a funky 60's groove, like it belongs in a swing dancing club instead of on the highway at sunset. It's a happy song and you think it suits Jungkook just right.

Speaking of Jungkook, he starts to bob his head in time with the beat, fingertips tapping in rhythm against the steering wheel. He looks adorably dorky, losing himself to the song, like he's forgotten you're even sat beside him.

"You look like an idiot." You deadpan, though you can't cover the laugh that escapes you as he sings along louder.

"No, I look like I'm having fun!" Jungkook rolls down the window and turns up the music so loud he has to shout for you to hear him. "Don't you ever do this? Just give in to the music for a while? Let your body do what it wants?"

"Uh, no. I prefer to just listen." You shout back. "Besides, your body should be focused on driving this car right now--"

"Oh come on! Just try it."

"Try it?" You blink, stomach suddenly knotting."Like now? In front of you?"

"Well duh. Look. Copy me."

He starts to shake his shoulders from side to side, fingers clicking as he nods for you to do the same.

"I...okay." You start to copy, but you catch yourself in the rear view mirror and you just look stiff compared to how effortlessly Jungkook moves to the rhythm.

"See you're doing it!" Jungkook grins, throwing his head back. "Feels good huh?"

"Kinda..." You have to admit there is something liberating about just letting go. "Like this?"

Your knees volunteer themselves to the beat, and then your arms, and before you know it you've got your eyes closed, hair whipping around your face as you speed down the interstate

"That's it. Feel the music!"

Before you know it, the song ends and you realise all at once that you're laughing. Loud and free, enough to make your belly hurt. Jungkook is too, the sound better than any song you've ever heard, and neither of you can seem to stop.

"Oh my god." You pant, covering your face with your fingers, embarrassed. "Now we both look like idiots."

"Don't hide from me." Jungkook bites his lip. You're suddenly aware of how close he is. His arms grab your wrists, pulling them away from your face, but he doesn't drop the one closest to him. Instead he links your fingers and uses your shared grip to change the gear as he turns down a winding road.

"I'm shy." You say, and you can feel the heat in your cheeks.

"Why? You're beautiful." Jungkook puts the car into park. You realise all at once that you've been driving for ages and you didn't even panic once. "Besides, we've arrived. And you're not gonna wanna miss seeing this."

The destination Jungkook seems so excited about turns out to be a concrete parking lot.

"Where are we, Jungkook?" You ask, looking around but finding nothing but tyre tracks and dirt.

Jungkook has already hopped out of the drivers side, sliding over the hood of the car to tug open your door with a quirk of his brow.

He holds out his palm, upturned and calloused. "Do you trust me?"

You bite your lip, heart pounding. Do you trust him?

Your body speaks for you and you slide your hand into his. His thumb traces your knuckles reassuringly.

"Yes." You breathe. "I trust you."

"Good."

You yelp when an arm wraps around your waist and hoists you out of the car, tightly interlocked fingers blocking your vision like a makeshift blindfold. "Don't open your eyes until I tell you to."

"Okay." You giggle, feet stumbling as you try to find your balance with the help of a sturdy hand beneath your elbow.

Jungkook hums gently beneath his breath as he guides you up a path that turns from concrete to loose rock to dampened grass beneath the soles of your beat up sneakers. There's a voice in the back of your mind that tells you to be nervous; who knows where he could be taking you right now.

But as you breathe in the musty notes of his cologne and feel your heart flutter in your chest when he comes to a stop and rests his chin on your shoulder, just close enough to feel his laugh ghost across your neck, you don't care where in the world you are right now as long as it's beside him.

"Now, open."

The sun is startlingly bright when you open your eyes for the first time and see the vibrant meadow that stretches as far as you can see.

Wait — that's not the sun. It's sunflowers. Clusters of them, cheerfully waving with the breeze from where you stand on the path that continues for a few steps before it disappears among their stems.

The sunflowers are a burst of golden colour against the fading green of the meadow, and the horizon beyond that which boasts the silhouette of beach rock against the soft blue of the ocean at sunset. There's tracks here and there where the uncut grass is trampled, like some children had played hide and seek.

You reach out a hand and brush your fingertips over the velvety petals; breathe in the botanical scent of the fresh sunny blooms that dances through the meadow. It's breathtaking, you think. There's no coordination, just freedom choreographed by the wind as the tall stems sway back and forth in their gentle dance.

Before you know it you've taken off into a run, grinning with childlike glee when the tall grass tickles your nose and the sun whispers against your neck.

"Jungkook, this place is—"

"Beautiful right?" You nod breathlessly, blushing deeply when you come to a stop and find him staring right at you. He squeezes your hand and that's when you notice your fingers are still interlinked. "I come here a lot. When I need to think."

"How did you find this place?"

"Taehyung and I stumbled upon it a few summers ago by accident." He says. "Nobody knows about it. It's our secret."

"It's so beautiful." You whisper. "The whole world needs to see this."

Jungkook kicks at a stone with the toe of his boot. "I kinda like it being a secret. This place...is special to me."

"Then why...." The words get caught in your throat. You swallow and try again. "Why did you bring me here?"

"I wanted to show you the things I find most beautiful. Remember?"

"The sunflowers?"

"Well yeah..." He scratches the back of his neck. Swallows thickly, like he's preparing himself. "But I was thinking of something a little different..."

You close your eyes, a smile appearing on your lips as you let the crisp breeze caress your face. "Then what?"

There's a sharp click of a shutter, and when your lashes flutter open in surprise, Jungkook is shaking a Polaroid picture back and forth, his eyes glinting with something mischievous.

"Hey! Give me that—" You reach for the Polaroid, stomach churning with a sudden shyness that makes you hug your arms.

"Just — don't do that okay?" He holds it out of reach, pleading with his eyes. "Please."

"Do what?"

"Give up on what makes you happy just because you're scared." His palm cups your cheek. "You said it yourself. Being in front of the camera is where you belong. Don't you see that?"

"I'm not scared." You feel the heat rise in your cheeks when Jungkook sends you a knowing look. "Okay maybe I am scared. And so what if I am? You've already given me the face your fears spiel and I told you. I'm perfectly happy avoiding every camera known to man for the rest of my life if it means I never have to face them."

"But you've already faced one of your fears today. You got in my car, remember?" He raises an eyebrow, smug. "Well, two technically, 'cause you're here with me now and I know how nervous you used to get around me--"

"Did not!"

"Do too! Every time we talk outside of work you get all shy and--"

"Shut up."

"See! You're doing it right now!"

You don't know what compels you to do it. Maybe it's the heat rising in the apples of your cheeks or the way your heart quickens when Jungkook closes the gap between you, but before you can stop yourself you're reaching up and grasping his face with both hands.

"Oh just shut up and kiss me, doofus."

The smug smirk on Jungkook's face is replaced with wide eyed surprise, his lips falling still for a moment when yours crash against his. But then his steady hands find your waist and he supports you on your tip toes so he can pull you ever closer, melting into the plush press of your lips.

When you pull back, you're smiling. You can't help it. You've been dreaming of this moment since, like, middle school. And goddamn, he even tastes how you imagined. Like black coffee and toothpaste.

"See." He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. "Happiness suits you."

"Whatever, Jeon." You smirk. "Don't let it go to your head, but it's thanks to you."

Jungkook flashes you the biggest bunny grin you've ever seen, eyes sparkling at your words.

"Wait...stay like that." He reaches for his camcorder in his backpack and points the lens at you. The smile falls from your lips. You place a hand on his arm, grip tighter than you intended.

"Jungkook stop."

"What's wrong? Just keep smiling like that, the shot was perfect—"

"I don't know what to do." You shrug, the lens boring into you like a judgy aunt at Thanksgiving dinner. "The camera makes me nervous."

"Just pretend I'm not here."

You sniff. "I don't want you to not be here..."

"Listen," Jungkook cups your face, thumbs tracing your cheeks fondly. "The reason I brought you here? It's because this place reminds me of you. Beautiful."

"Jungkook--"

"Just like you said, the world needs to see this place. Just like they need to see you."

"I..." Your heart is on the verge of exploding, you would swear it. "Okay." The word rolls off your tongue before you can stop it because somehow you trust him. And deep down, there's still that fizz of excitement mixing in with all the nervousness. The Jungkook Effect. You don't want to lose it to the darkness like everything else.

"I'll try. Just-- don't laugh at me okay?"

"You have my word, sarge." He salutes with a thoughtful grin. "Hold on a sec. I know exactly what you need to get you going."

Jungkook jumps to his feet and you watch with your chin tucked between your knees as he jogs down the rocky path and opens all four of the truck doors, even the trunk, before his head disappears into the vehicle and the same pumping bass from earlier starts blasting into the quiet serene of the sunflower field.

"There," He grins as he returns, out of breath, and sits back down beside you cross legged, holding his camcorder to his eye. "Now do what you were doing before again, but over there. Just pretend you're on stage at the Crestmont, okay?"

You feel the music wash over you and the urge to move hits you like a wave. Jungkook nods encouragingly and there's something in his eyes that flips a switch inside you. And for the first time in a long time, all the passion and spirit and feeling inside you fizzes up to the top and you can't contain it any longer.

"That's it!" Jungkook calls, shutter clicking uncontrollably. "I knew you could do it!"

An oak tree provides sun-flecked shade, a cool sanctuary from the sun that sets on the horizon and splashes the sky's canvas magenta.

Jungkook laid out a checkered blanket from the trunk of his truck which you both lay upon, shoulders pressed together as close as humanly possible, surrounded by your devoured picnic consisting of his mom's fruit punch and bags of snacks he took from the concession stand at the Crestmont when nobody was looking.

"Holy shit, Y/N." He says through a mouthful of popcorn, jabbing his finger at his favourite shot of you in front of the sunflowers. "This is what I've been saying! You're a natural in front of the camera."

"No, you're amazing, Jungkook." You feel for his hand. It's funny how natural it feels already when his pinky links with yours. "Behind the camera."

"You think?" He chews his lip, eyes searching yours for approval.

"I know. You should do something with these. People need to see them."

"I'm thinking of becoming a filmographer, actually"

"Like at the pier?" You think of the tacky photo booth that overlooks the sea in town, fit with all the silly cardboard cut outs that tourists come and take a photo with for a dollar.

"No, I mean a real filmographer." He shrugs, and you're sure there's a trace of a blush on his cheeks. "Y'know. Movies and stuff."

You nod. It makes sense for Jungkook to spend his life with a camera glued to his right hand. You can't imagine Jungkook anywhere else, and you have to ignore the sinking feeling that comes with the realisation that he would eventually leave Ocean City -- and you -- behind for the big screen.

"Well you bet your ass I'll be front row to watch each and every one, Jeon Jungkook."

"My lucky star." Jungkook smiles.

"Always."

He must see the sadness brimming inside you, his body shuffling closer so your knees brush. It's reassuring somewhat.

"Actually...there's something I should tell you."

He shifts under your gaze. The nerves rush back. "What is it?"

"I guess I finished writing my first screenplay..."

"That's like a movie script, right?" You ask eagerly, and he nods. "That's great, Kook!"

"Yeah, it's great it's just --" He pauses, and clutches your hand tighter like he's scared what he says next will make you let go forever. "It's about you."

You pale. "M-me?"

"I mean, it's about you and...and Taehyung! And your mom." Jungkook rushes. "I was inspired by your story at the boardwalk and it just happened! I'm sorry, I know you probably hate me now and think I'm crazy but--"

"Burn it." You deadpan.

Jungkook blinks. "W..what?"

"I said burn it." You pull his hand into your lap and he lets out a sigh of relief. "I don't hate you, Kook. I just think you were right earlier when you said I need to face my fears. And the only way I can do that is by forgetting my past. The last thing I need is a whole freaking movie about it."

He joins in with your strained chuckles. "Sure you aren't mad?"

"Not mad." You assure with a smile.

"Then I'll burn it."

You avoid his gaze shyly. "I'm kinda honoured you wrote about me, though." You admit.

"I guess...I guess I could call you my muse." Jungkook blurts hurriedly. His nose is a deep shade of pink and it makes you want to tease him forever.

"Yeah." You nod to yourself with a smile. "I like that. Your muse."

And then his lips are on yours again, like he can't quite help himself, and you start to forget where yours begin and his end.

This time it's not delicate and sweet. It's slow and languid, hot and heavy. The sunflowers break your fall, Jungkook's lips never leaving yours as he climbs on top of you, one hand tangled in your hair, the other planted beside your head so that his chest hovers above yours. You're almost certain he can feel how hard your heart is pounding in your chest, but you don't care, too lost in the bliss of finally feeling Jungkook's plush lips against your own.

"Come to New York with me." He says breathlessly between kisses, and your heart stops.

"What?" You can hardly drag your lips away from his but you have to be sure you heard him right. New York?

"I mean, in the future. I'm gonna go to New York. Get a job at a film production company or something, I don't know--" He tucks a piece of hair behind your ear. "Come with me."

"I...I can't."

"Why?" He frowns. "Is it me?"

"No! God no."

"Then why? You said it was your dream right?" You nod. "So what's stopping you?"

"I..I have to take care of Taehyung, and my job at the Crestmont and--"

"Okay. Lets pretend none of that exists. It's just you and me." His breath ghosts against your forehead. "Y/N, will you come to New York with me?"

"Yes." It comes out breathless, but you mean it. With every atom and nerve and fiber in your body. "Lets go to New York."

Where things change.

3 years later.

A postcard sits on the Welcome Home! Doormat you and Jungkook bought before you left for New York. You recognise the picture perfect image of Ocean City on the front, and Taehyung's messy scrawl on the back that tells you he's doing fine at his new management job at the Crestmont and he will be sending a housewarming gift imminently.

— Stay smiling, Y/N. Miss you already! Taehyung. :)

With a small smile you tack it onto the bare fridge. It brightens up the empty kitchen somewhat, a little piece of home and a reminder that you don't need to worry about leaving your brother behind to fend for himself so much any more. Since he pulled his life together and got a job at the theatre, it's like he came alive again. Found his purpose.

Speaking of purposes, you suppose that's how you found yourself here. In your very own apartment in a nice complex on the east side. The east side of New York City.

There's a pair of satin curtains hung over the balcony doors, probably left behind by the old tenant as it's the only form of furniture in the whole apartment. They rustle in the morning breeze and you tiptoe across the room barefoot to rip them open, letting your eyes flutter shut when the early morning sun filters through the glass and cascades over your face like a warm embrace.

You press a hand to the glass, studying your reflection; the messy lump of hair atop your head, the soft shadow of your lashes atop your cheeks. And beyond it, New York. Your new normal in all it's familiar glory from your dreams, yet still so deliciously foreign it makes your heart leap whenever a cab horn rings out in the distance or you breathe in the smell of fresh bagels from the shop down the street.

Home. You could finally call it that now. But New York is just a city and this apartment is just a house. The real reason you get to call this place home is because of who you came here with.

Jungkook.

You've been dating for two and a half years by now. He let you borrow one of his old much-too-big t-shirts to sleep in last night. There's a hole in the shoulder and the hem brushes your knees but it's warm and smells like his cologne and your heart expands when you close your eyes and remember this is just the beginning. You have so much to do, so many things to see here in New York. So many things to learn. And there's nobody you would want to explore life with more than Jungkook.

His camera equipment lays in a cardboard box by your feet, and something compels you to take out the old-school camcorder he loves. The leather strap tightens perfectly around your hand and the red RECORD button flashes as you open the doors wide and lift the lens to take in the view. Something tells you you're gonna want to remember this moment forever.

It's not long before a pair of arms wrap around your waist, chin tucked cheekily into your shoulder. "There you are." Jungkook husks, stilly groggy with sleep as his lips ghost across your cheek.

Turning around in his grasp, you find him still shirtless, sweatpants slung low around his hips. He's been working out recently, and you can't deny you don't love how firm his shoulders feel when you brace yourself on them to stand on your tip toes and leave a peck to his lips.

"Morning sleepyhead," you say, running your fingers through the strands of his silky bed hair. It's longer these days, whispering across the nape of his neck and falling across his round eyes sweetly. They flutter closed when you massage his scalp just how he likes it. "I was wondering when you'd finally get out of bed."

"Missed you." His lips turn up when he sees the camera pointed at his face. "Whaddya doing with that?"

"Making memories." You say simply, zooming in on him as he rubs his sleepy eyes. "So we never forget this."

A cheeky smirk appears on his lips as he wraps you in his arms, a surprised giggle leaving you when he spins you around and grabs the camera so he can point it at the both of you, his chin resting on your shoulder now as his bare arm snugly wraps around your waist.

"Hey stop! I just woke up, I look bad!"

"Hello us of the future," Jungkook chuckles, pulling your fingers away from your face when you bury your face in his chest to hide from the lens. "It's our first day in New York and Y/N is being all camera shy--okay, okay fine, lets show them the view instead!"

Jungkook finally flips the lens around so it focuses on the distant silhouettes of tall skyscrapers skimming the blue skyline, before he turns it back onto you guys once more with a mischievous look this time.

"But we have to go now because we have far more interesting business to attend to..." He lowers the camera as his lips start to trail up your collar bone and he smiles when your eyes flutter shut and you gasp at the feeling, but it's quickly replaced by a pout when you wriggle out of his embrace with a stern look.

"Not now. Later."

"Mmf? Why?" He whines, making grabby hands towards you. "You're so warm, jus' wanna cuddle for a bit."

"No time!" You call over your shoulder as you grab him by the hand and drag his heavy feet behind you. "We've got an apartment to decorate."

Before you know it you've enlisted Jungkook's help in laying tarps across the living room floor, two pots of bright white paint plonked in the center. It's not like you could afford a decorator after all. You are two broke twenty-something's trying to make it big in New York, and all that cliche stuff. So you would just have to do it yourselves.

Jungkook's over in the corner, miming along to the guitar solo from some rock song playing from the radio balanced on the windowsill, the paint roller his instrument as he dances around the room with giddy impulse. There's paint all over his butt where he accidentally leaned against one of the wet walls and he's got his hair tied back into a bun at the crown of his head and you watch him out of the corner of your eye while an affectionate smile creeps onto your face no matter how hard you try to curb it.

That's when you notice the camera in his other hand. He zooms in on the stepladder in the corner, the paint spillage in the hall, the heart with Y/N + JUNGKOOK FOREVER written inside it on the back wall. Documenting everything as usual.

He was always filming you, too. Whether you were making coffee in the morning or drying your hair. He'd even slow down beside you on the sidewalk to get the perfect shot.

You find it cute, even though you pretend to hate it. It makes your heart flutter every time you catch him rewinding the footage with a contented smile on his face, like he just captured the whole world with his lens.

It's no surprise when you finish putting the final coat on the wall and step back to admire your handy work that you find him wandering around the apartment with his hand curved around the lens of one of his bigger cameras like it's natural to him. You always joke that thing is like an extra limb, but he looks so calm as he looks through his lens at the room that is now drunk on the afternoon sun pouring through the window, the golden rays like honey on his skin, that it's easy to see that the camera really is a part of him. Passion lies in the soft lines of concentration on his face, in the plump lip tugged between teeth as he fiddles with the settings.

Jungkook sees beauty where others don't, where others can't. It might as well pump through his veins. And it's one of the reasons you love him so much.

You shake your head when you see how a small smile finds his lips when he leans a shoulder against the door frame and lets the camera land on the thing he swears is most beautiful.

"Hey." You warn, shooting a side wards glare at the camera lens you spot Jungkook not so discreetly pointing in your direction. "Stop it."

"Stop what?" He runs a hand through his hair, lips pulling back into a sly bunny smile when you bend down to reach a spot you missed at the bottom of the wall. "I'm not doing anything."

Your upper lip twitches. "Are you zooming in on my ass?"

"What? No!" Jungkook scrunches his nose with wide eyes, a habit you knew meant he was guilty, a pout forming on your lips as he snaps the viewfinder closed and shoves the offending piece of his equipment behind his back.

You narrow your eyes affectionately. "Perv."

"I don't know what you're talking about." He blows a strand of hair out of his face innocently but there's a playful glint in his eyes and you can hardly keep a serious face as you plant your hands on your hips in what you hope is a menacing manner.

"Then lemme see it." You challenge with a nod to the camera behind him.

He feigns indifference, cocking his head to the side like an overgrown puppy. "See what?"

"That's it!" You shake your head, charging towards and him making grabby motions towards the camera. Jungkook looks down at you fondly as he holds it above your head, out of reach, and it only makes you you pout harder. "Hey! Give it!

"Never!" You jump pitifully, fingers grasping around nothing. A melodic chuckle spills from Jungkook's lips when you cross your arms over your chest in defeat and blink up at him crossly. "You have to say the magic word first."

You scoff at the teasing look on his face as he wiggles his eyebrows and waves the camera just above your head, before an idea strikes you and within seconds you're wielding a paintbrush, Jungkook's eyes widening when you point the paint coated bristles at his face.

"Give it up." You hold out your palm with a smug look. "Or the walls are not the only thing getting a fresh coat."

"You wouldn't." He smirks, despite being backed into a corner now.

"Oh yeah?" Without further ado you swipe the brush down the bridge of his nose, swallowing a giggle at the white smudge it leaves behind and his shocked expression beneath it. "You underestimate me, Jeon."

Jungkook pushes his tongue into his cheek, eyes dancing up and down your body before they lock with yours daringly. "You shouldn't have done that."

"Or what?" You taunt playfully, a laugh escaping you, but you quickly bite down on your lip when you see the glint in Jungkook's eyes as he submerges both his hands into the nearby bucket of paint.

You don't run when he steps closer. Instead your breathing quickens, heart doing a funny somersault when he brushes your hair to the side and clamps both of his wet hands on the sides of your jaw to bring your face up to his.

He tastes like coffee and desire when your lips crash together in a delicious tangle of teeth and tongue, all the thoughts racing through your mind dripping away like honey until all that's left is the thump of your heart against your chest and Jungkook's warmth as he backs you up against the wall.

When he pulls away he rubs his paint covered nose against yours, cocking his head and smiling sweetly when he leans back and admires his handy work.

"You have paint on your face." He looks down at his white hands innocently with a shrug. "Whoops?"

His hands trail down to your hips. You reach to your side and grab a fistful of paint, wiping it down the centre of his face and giggling when he groans and scrunches his eyes closed . "So do you."

"Okay, that's it. This means war!" Jungkook growls, strong arms wrapping around your waist, and before you know it you're stumbling over to the mattress in the corner, Jungkook's body hovering over yours.

"You wanna play dirty, huh?" Desire-filled eyes trace your face, travelling down the expanse of your neck before zeroing in on your collar bones. You gasp when Jungkook's lips attach themselves to the sensitive skin, every inch of you set alight when his burning fingers slide beneath the hem of your tshirt and find your thighs. "Always being such a bad girl, huh?"

"So? What're you gonna do about it? Punish me?" You say teasingly, and he stiffens, lips leaving a mark behind on your neck with a pop. Jungkook's narrowed eyes meet yours and you feel your heart speed up with anticipation.

His lips twitch, like they're dying to turn up. "Brat."

With that, you're being flipped over onto your knees with a yelp. Jungkook's hands work quickly and before you know it your tshirt is over your head and the sudden breeze from the open balcony doors against your hardened nipples makes you gasp.

"You love it." You laugh breathily.

"Too much," Jungkook confirms, before his large palm presses you down into the bed firmly between the shoulder blades so that your ass is thrust up in the air. You wiggle is teasingly, though the breath catches in your throat when the first spank lands on your bare skin. Then a second, the sound ringing out through the empty room like an echo and making a damp spot appear on your panties.

"Hey!" You chastise when you remember the paint on his hands that just left two glaring handprints right across your ass.

Jungkook just smirks. "What? Now everyone knows it's mine."

A third slap and you have to bite the blanket to stop from groaning, then a fourth, and a fifth and by then your eyes are watering but in the best way. Calloused hands smooth over the burning area, soothing it.

"Good girl," A raspy voice whispers next to your ear. "Such a good girl for me, taking your punishment. I think you deserve your reward now, hm?"

"Please." You moan as he reaches around to grasp your breast, tweaking your nipples in a way that has you writhing beneath him.

"Don't say I didn't warn you though," Jungkook chuckles as he rips your panties down your legs, gasping at the sight of your dripping slit like it's the first time. He runs a finger down your folds, biting back a groan when it makes your legs fall open a little further, desperate for his touch. "I'm not gonna go easy on you."

"Jungkook, what do you-- oh!." Before you can finish, Jungkook is pushing your face back into the comforter, spreading your cheeks with his palms and licking an agonizingly slow stripe up your throbbing core. His tongue finds your clit easily, toying it with the tip playfully until you're gasping for air.

"Mmf, tastes so good." He murmurs against your folds, the vibrations of his chuckle making you moan so hard your legs start to shake. His tongue finds your hole, swirling around teasingly before it slips inside and you can't handle it anymore.

"Jungkook!" You gasp, reaching behind to grab his hair. "I..I can't-"

"You can." He says, almost a command, mouth leaving your pussy only so he can slide over onto his back and pull you back down onto his face by the hips.

"Oh g-god!" Your hand reaches for the headboard, landing on the wall to steady yourself when you remember you still haven't bought a bed frame yet. Your legs are starting to ache from holding yourself up but you don't care, too lost in the feeling of Jungkook's tongue lapping at your swollen folds as you grind in lazy circles on his face.

"C-close, Kook." You manage to splutter, head thrown back with pleasure when he slides two of his fingers inside you and starts to pump in time with his tongue, the sensation of being filled enough to send you over the edge into a shuddering climax that is unlike anything you've felt before, the only thought on your mind the way your hole clenches around your boyfriend's fingers.

It takes a few moments for your legs to stop shaking, your hearing slowly coming back into focus as you hear both of your heavy breaths intermingled. You look between your legs to find Jungkook staring up at you with a grin, eyes filled with wonder. His chin gleams with your juices, the front of his t-shirt damp as you realise with a gasp what just happened.

"Did I--?"

"Yup."

"Holy fuck." You swing your leg over his shoulder so you're beside him, Jungkook sitting up to look at you, still mesmerised. "I...I'm sorry, that was--"

"The hottest thing you've ever done." Jungkook finishes, grinning at you like he just won the lottery.

You raise a brow, surprised. "Really?"

"Yeah. Can I fuck you now?"

You can't help but laugh at his eager puppy dog eyes, hands practically twitching at his sides to touch you. A quick glance at his crotch confirms the biggest tent in his pants you've ever seen, and you crook a finger towards him with a sultry smile and a nod.

"Let's see if you can make me do that again."

"O-Okay!" Jungkook pulls his shirt over his head eagerly, and then he's on top of you, burning skin meeting burning skin. Your palm runs down his chest, Jungkook's eyes falling shut when it reaches the hem of his sweatpants. You cant help but gasp when your fingers wrap around his length through his boxers, core already throbbing again to be filled. He shivers when your finger circles his tip, admiring the wet patch on his boxers.

"Eager?" You smirk.

"You squirted on my face, Y/N, of course I'm goddamn eager."

"Get these off then." You tug at his pants and he kicks them off without a second telling.

"Your wish is my command."

When he returns to hovering over you, both completely bare now, he pauses. His eyes meet yours, a gentle smile appearing on his lips as he tucks a stray piece of hair behind your ear and grips your jaw protectively.

"I love you, y'know."

You close the distance between you, pressing your lips against his but barely able to keep yourself from grinning with the elation swirling in your chest. "I love you too, doofus. Now hurry up or I'm gonna have to fuck myself."

"That sounds kinda awesome--"

"Kook!"

"Okay, okay, on it!"

Palms spread your legs, and you both gasp when Jungkook runs the blunt head of his leaking cock up and down your slit, coating himself in your juices before he lines it up with your entrance.

"Ready?" He checks, thumb tracing circles into your inner thigh.

"As I'll ever be."

And with that, he pushes inside, his head falling into the crook of your neck with a sigh of relief at finally feeling your walls clenching around his throbbing length. The stretch of his girth stings, but it makes you feel so deliciously full, so perfectly whole to be connected to Jungkook like this that all you can get out is another soft I love you that earns a blissful smile from your boyfriend as he starts to move.

Each stroke makes you lose your breath, the tip of his cock hitting your sweet spot just right. It's when Jungkook takes your nipple into his mouth that you feel a second orgasm start to build, one hand gripping the sheets as the other drags scratch marks down his muscular back in blissful agony.

It's not long before Jungkook spills inside you with a deep growl, your own high hitting you as you feel him coat your walls. He collapses onto your chest, breaths deep and exhausted, and wraps you in his arms before you can even catch your breath.

Jungkook pulls the sheets up over your shoulders and places a kiss to the top of your head. He's so warm you feel yourself start to drift off into a blissful sleep, the smile on your lips never faltering.

"I love you too." Is the last thing you hear him say before sleep takes you under, and you're safe wrapped up in each other's arms.

When you open your eyes, the room is warm with sunset's rose tinted blush, and Jungkook's body is no longer beside you. Rubbing your bleary eyes, you sit up on your elbow and find him on the ground in front of the freshly painted wall, intricate petals and stems flowing from the end of the paintbrush he delicately waves across the surface to paint the prettiest sunflower you've ever seen.

"I'm home!" You hear your boyfriend yell out as he shuffles into the apartment, quickly followed by a yelp. "Hey, Gureum, stop trying to lick my face!"

You can't stop the smile that spreads across your features when a ball of white fluff comes bounding into the living room, the puppy that excitedly jumps into your arms tracking a trail of muddy paw prints over the script in your hands.

"Hey Gureum," You coo, scratching him behind the ears where you know his sweet spot is. "You're such a good boy, huh?"

"Don't praise him! He totally ran away from me in Central Park and I had to chase him all the way home!" You can practically hear Jungkook's eye roll, shaking your head fondly at the mock annoyance in his voice. It was Jungkook who begged you to adopt a puppy for months in the first place, and they've been more or less inseparable ever since — the little guy hardly ever leaves his side. It's safe to say Jungkook is definitely Gureum's favourite.

The smell of coffee and fresh bagels wafts through the apartment, a warm sensation settling in your stomach as your boyfriend rounds the corner and waves a brown paper bag.

"Still got us enough coffee to stay up all night learning lines though." Jungkook grins, dumping the contents onto the coffee table and raising his eyebrows when your hands dart straight for the chocolate cookies. "Speaking of learning lines, how is it going, pretty?"

He nods towards the script in your hand. It's worn at the edges and ferociously dog eared from all the nights you have stayed up until sunrise reciting the words littered across the pages over and over, until it's like your lips are moving by muscle memory and the words are a part of you.

After what felt like hundreds of failed auditions, you had started to lose hope. With every letter that landed on the porch with another SORRY or MAYBE NEXT TIME, you felt all the confidence in the dream you worked so hard to uncover start to dwindle.

But Jungkook was always there, by your side no matter what. Encouraging you when you forgot your lines or holding you when you didn't get the callback. Reminding you to eat whenever you were too absorbed in your work to cook or cheering you on from the crowd at your weekly improv performances.

It was Jungkook who cried with you when the director of the small theatre downtown called and gave you the lead part in his upcoming stage production. Your big break. And you were determined to make sure everything ran smoothly at opening night tomorrow, which is how you find yourself snuggled up on the couch rewinding your VHS copy of Dirty Dancing over and over again until you have every word memorised by heart.

"Pretty good." You say as you pop a salted peanut into your mouth while Jungkook slips out of his tweed jacket. He's been trying to dress more New-York-ish these days, or so he says. More dress pants and less sweats. "Final rehearsals start at five."

"Aren't you nervous?" Jungkook squishes into the space beside you, Gureum cuddling up between your bodies.

Tomorrow night's show is sold out, along with every night after that for the next week. You heard there were going to be at least 700 people there each night.

"Terribly." You admit, stomach churning at the thought of 700 pairs of eyes staring right at you. You try to focus on the fizzing excitement that lingers there too, growing stronger and stronger. "But I think I'm more excited".

"I'm excited to see you up there doing what you love." Jungkook smiles, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. "My star."

"Well don't get too excited because I still keep messing up this one goddamn scene," You flip the script to a page covered in bright highlighter scribbles and run your fingers through your hair exasperatedly. "I'm totally gonna mess it up and then I'll never get another job and—"

"Shhh," Jungkook takes the script from your hands and runs his eyes over it quickly. "Don't talk like that. You're gonna be amazing — hold up..." He raises an eyebrow. "Is this...the kiss scene?"

You feel your cheeks redden, voice small. "Yes."

"Then you're in luck because who better to help you practice than the best kisser in all of New York?"

You snort. "Wow, I sure could use some of your expertise Good-Sir-Makes-Out-A-Lot."

"Then you're in the right place..." He runs his finger over the script, jabbing at one line in particular.

[Johnny and Baby kiss.]

"Let's start here, hm? For practice, obviously."

"For practice." Your eyes roll but your heart still beats a little faster as he closes the space between you, hand pressing into the wall so his sturdy body hovers over yours, hands instinctively pulling him closer by the collar.

"Come give me a kiss, m'lady..." Jungkook murmurs, but before he can tilt your chin up towards his lips there's a sudden series of frantic knocks at the front door.

"What the heck?"

You both jump out of your skin, Jungkook's eyes narrowing as he glances over his shoulder at the shadowy figure outside, fist pounding the glass fervently, like they're trying to break it down.

"Okay, damn, I'm coming!" He yells with a roll of his eyes. He wraps the blanket around your shoulders as he hops up from the couch with a sigh. "Probably just some dumb marketer again or something — dude, chill! I said I'm coming! — be right back."

The lock slides open and you hear Jungkook gasp. Your stomach drops. "Who is it?"

"Uh, Y/N..." You hear the door click shut and the sound of squeaky shoes shuffling inside. The anxiety in Jungkook's voice makes your heart skip. "You might wanna come see this."

"Huh?" Your legs feel shaky as you follow him out into the hall, chest seizing when you lay eyes on the dripping wet hair and chattering teeth of the shivering man stood before you, eyes dark and grave like they used to be.

"Taehyung?" You splutter, ripping the blanket from around your shoulders and swaddling him in it as quickly as you can, Jungkook already bounding into the other room to get dry clothes and towels after shooting you a terrified glance.

Taehyung grabs your shoulders and pulls you into a tight embrace. His cheeks are wet against your shoulder, but you can't tell if it's because he's been crying or because he's been out in the freezing cold rain — hold on, did he walk here?

"Y/N," He murmurs frantically, eyes darting back and forth but never quite focusing on anything. You knew this look. This is how he looked that day you found out about the accident. Murky, far far away. Devastatingly sad. Something wasn't right.

"What is it?" You ask, pulling him into the living room and sitting him on the couch before his shaking knees buckle beneath him. "What are you doing here, Tae?"

"It's...it's the Crestmont." He whispers.

"What about the Crestmont?" Jungkook appears behind Taehyung, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder, but it's like your brother doesn't even feel it.

"They're tearing it down." He mumbles. "They're tearing down the Crestmont. Forever."

"Okay, now let's start from the beginning."

Jungkook's calm voice lilts from beside Taehyung who, after a warm shower and two cups of cocoa, has stopped shivering and seems to be ready to talk.

A hand reaches across the coffee table to tug on your wrist mid-lift to your mouth, a reminder from Jungkook to stop biting your nails. An old nervous habit you thought you'd left behind in Ocean City but apparently more than just Taehyung showed up here unannounced tonight.

"I...I got a call this morning." Taehyung begins, pausing to take a sip from the mug he cradles in his lap. His hands are shaking so he places it on the coffee table for safe keeping, right beside your discarded script. "It was from a construction company."

"And?" You prod, somewhat impatiently, making Taehyung jump.

"And apparently the owner of the theatre is behind on rent and...and..." He swallows hard. "And they're buying the rights to tear it down and build an apartment complex in its place."

"What?" Both you and Jungkook exclaim at the same time.

Jungkook's fists clench. "I always knew that old man was shady."

Taehyung fumbles in the pocket of the coat he arrived with, retrieving a brochure which he thrusts towards you.

The image on the front is of a metal skyscraper, far too shiny and new to belong in a seaside town like Ocean City. Fusion Apartments — modern living.

Jungkook rakes a hand through his hair, eyes sorrowful as you pass it over to him. "This sucks. Big time." He murmurs. "The Crestmont is the heart of Ocean City. How can they just bulldoze it like it means nothing?"

"That's why..." Taehyung swallows. "That's why I came here. I thought maybe you guys could help me, and we could do something before they—"

"We?" You furrow your brows. "You want us to help stop them from tearing down the Crestmont?"

"I mean yeah, I guess? I figured you guys would understand how important it is—"

You bite your lip. Taehyung flinches when you place a hand on his knee. "Tae. It seems like they've already got it figured out I mean...what can we do about it? The Crestmont has had a long run and maybe it's time for something new in Ocean City..."

"Y/N?" Jungkook warns, but there's a betrayal in his voice. How could you say that? It pains you, but you continue anyway. "What are you saying?"

"I just...I think it's time to let the Crestmont go."

Taehyung stands up so abruptly his mug smashes onto the marble tile.

"How could you?" He roars, but his bottom lip trembles. "The Crestmont is mom's place! It's all we have left of her in that fucking town and you want to just let them burn it to the ground?"

You tut, kneeling to pick up the broken pieces of china with a sharp glance at your brother. "For goodness sake, Taehyung. Mom isn't there anymore. She never was. She was always running off with some roadies and leaving us behind because she thought she was something special."

Taehyung scoffs. "What? Just like you?" He grabs the cocoa sodden script, crumpling it up in his shaking fist. "You are exactly the same as her. Running off to New York and leaving me behind to get your big break."

Jungkook steps forward warily. "Taehyung, you don't mean that—"

"Yes I do! If Y/N had just gotten in the car that day she wouldn't have died. It was all her fault. And now she's just gonna let them take what we have left of her."

"What?" Jungkook blinks.

Your stomach sinks. Is that really what Taehyung thinks? You wouldn't blame him. Deep down, his words strike a nerve. Because you know they're true.

Taehyung's eyes are hazy, unfocused. You reach for him dizzily, but he backs away into the hall.

"I shouldn't have come here." Taehyung whispers. He looks between you and Jungkook one last time before he's grabbing his coat and running down the steps to the first floor.

"Taehyung, wait!" You hear Jungkook's footsteps follow him out into the stairwell, but you're trapped on the ground, heaving for air.

Your hands shake as you pull yourself up to the window pane and watch Taehyung disappear into the gloom of the city, the sorrowful raindrops that lash against the glass mirroring the ones on your cheeks.

YOU: Taehyung??? YOU: [CALL IGNORED] YOU: please Tae YOU: can we at least talk about this? YOU: we're worried about you

It's been nearly 12 hours since you watched Taehyung disappear among the hustle and bustle of New York from your apartment window.

You and Jungkook were out all night searching for him. By the time you gave up the sun was rising and the birds were chirping and Jungkook somehow convinced your shivering form to return home to rest with a Taehyung shaped hole in your heart.

"It'll be okay. He'll be okay. He always is."

A phone call to your dad revealed he hadn't returned home that night; so where did he go exactly?

The weight of that question sits heavy in your chest as you sit backstage at the theatre, staring into your own vacant eyes in the dressing room mirror.

It's opening night. The show is due to start in fifteen minutes. Your lips are painted a deep shade of red, hair backcombed to perfection by one of the makeup artists. Beneath the harsh lights of the exposed bulbs that line the mirror, you look almost unrecognisable.

Confident, strong, successful.

Anyone would say your dreams had come true, or something sappy to that effect. But even as you sit among the hustle and bustle of the costume team and breathe in the fragrance of perfume and powder blush, you couldn't feel further away from the New York version of yourself if you tried.

Staring back at you is a reflection of the shy, terrified girl from Ocean City you worked so hard to forget. Yet here she is, mind whirring with worries for her brother instead of the lines she should be rehearsing to death before curtain call.

This should be your big moment. One which you will remember forever. But all you want to do right now is hold Taehyung close like you used to and tell him you're sorry and that you won't leave him again.

"Y/N!" You're snapped out of your thoughts by a familiar hand on your shoulder. You cover it with your own, instantly eased somewhat when you glance up and lock eyes with Jungkook in the mirror.

"Y/N, I found him."

"What?!" You jump to your feet, chair scraping obscenely. It draws the eyes of the people around you who quickly register Jungkook's polite smile as their cue to shuffle out of the dressing room and leave you two to talk. "Where is he? I need to talk to him—"

"He's not coming."

"What?"

Jungkook sinks into the chair beside you, forehead creased. He runs a hand through his hair and momentarily you catch a glimpse of the old Jungkook. The Jungkook that always took care of his best friend Taehyung.

"I...I gave him a ticket for the show tonight and told him to come. To see how much this really means to you...but—"

Your finger nails press half moons into your palms. "But what, Kook?"

"He was already leaving for Ocean City."

A sob wracks your frame. "Do you think he hates me?"

Jungkook's arms engulf you before the first tear can roll down your cheek, his chin tucking perfectly into the cleft of your shoulder. "Of course not, he's just...he's hurting right now."

"I can't lose him — not like this, Kook..."

"Shh. It'll all be okay."

You jump back and start to pace. "But it's not okay! What he said last night is true!"

Jungkook sucks in a breath. "What?"

Your knees buckle and you crumple. You can hardly breathe, shame washing over you as you admit the truth for the first time.

"I caused the accident! I'm the reason my mom's...she's..."

Jungkook wraps his arm around your shoulder, voice soothing. "What are you talking about?"

"The night of the accident she got a call from some big buck director. She was cast in this huge movie. Her big break." You're speaking to fast, but Jungkook nods to tell you he's listening.

"So she told Taehyung and I we were leaving for New York that night. And we were packing our bags before my dad got home and...and I said I wasn't coming. I didn't wanna leave Ocean City behind."

"I kicked and cried and said I didn't want to go, so her and Taehyung took off by themselves and that's when they got into the crash. She was upset and going too fast. It was all because of me." You start to sob. You've never admitted this to anyone before. Not even yourself. It tears your heart in two to say it out loud. "I'm the reason Taehyung's broken."

"You can't think like that." Jungkook clasps your face in his hands, thumb wiping away a stray tear. He looks scared, but his voice stays calm and convincing. "What happened was an accident. You were a kid. None of this is your fault."

"That's why Taehyung must hate me so much." You choke. "I'm doing what mom always wanted to, but she never had the chance because of me."

"Y/N?" A crew member steps into the room awkwardly with a cough. "I'm sorry to interrupt but the show is about to start. The audience is getting restless."

"Go. I'll take care of Taehyung, okay?" Jungkook pulls you to your feet, engulfing you in a final hug before he pushes you towards the stage entrance at the small of your back. "You're needed out there. Show them what you're made of."

Your eyes widen. This can't be happening. Not now.

"I...I can't."

"You can." Jungkook grabs your face and captures your lips, hard. It tastes salty with tears. "You're my star remember?"

"I love you." You whisper when you pull back, fingers reaching for him weakly as a costume designer hurries you towards the door.

"I love you too." Jungkook calls. His smile is the last thing you see before the door slams shut and there's no going back. "Now go break a leg, pretty!"

Particles of dust float in and out of your vision beneath the blinding stage lights.

Everything feels different from side stage. Your heart races as you press your ear to the velvet curtain separating you from the world, listening to the hubbub of laughing children and chattering adults filtering into the theatre. You imagine them taking their seats, buying icecream from the vendors, alive with anticipation.

The lights dim. You hear the director behind you, shouting something about places please! but it's like you're underwater, limbs weighted as you move like a ghost to your position for the opening number.

Your palms are clammy and you wipe them on your dress.

Show starting in 5...

Your legs turn to jelly. You close your eyes and try to calm your racing thoughts.

4...

Taehyung. Is he okay? Why didn't he come tonight?

3...

Shit! What was your opening line again? Goddamnit, Y/N, think!

2...

Mom. Would she be proud?

1...

You open your eyes.

The curtain is gone, and a pair of hands pushes you out into the harsh white spotlight. You shield your eyes with your fingers, heart dropping when you look up and find hundreds of eyes staring. Staring right at you.

It's like you're on the edge of a cliff, about to dive into the cool water below. Or fall.

Everything starts to blur. You're a teenager again, stood on the stage at the Crestmont. Panic rises like bile in your throat, and you don't know whether to scream or to run.

Run. Run. Run.

Your mouth opens, then closes. There's an awkward cough from the audience. Words run your mind in circles, but none of them are right, and before they can reach your lips they evaporate on your tongue.

Your panicked eyes roam the sea of seats that zoom in and out of focus. Your knees buckle, and you're sure you are going to pass out right here in front of everyone, but then your eyes meet a familiar pair of brown ones that makes the room stop spinning for a moment.

Jungkook. He's smiling at you, fingers crossed in his lap. There's not a trace of nerves in his gaze as he nods for you to go ahead.

I believe in you.

Just then the door to the theatre flies open and every head in the audience turns towards the darkly clothed figure shuffling through the aisles, mumbling sorry's and excuse me's until he reaches the empty seat beside your boyfriend.

He lets down his hood, shakes free a head of blonde hair that's still damp from the rain. He's out of breath, like he ran here.

Taehyung.

Your brother looks up at you, frozen in place, and his eyes soften. He flashes you a thumbs up and his lips curl around the four words you needed to hear.

You can do this.

And just like that, the panic disappears. The words come flooding back, and your body flies into action, moving across the stage

You forget all about the fear, and the anxiety, and Taehyung and the Crestmont. For now it's just you and the stage, together in harmony.

And you've never felt more alive than when you take your final bow and the crowd roars to life, just like you always imagined it would.

Your jaw hurts from smiling, and before you know it you're crying. Because when you squint against the theatre lights, you see Taehyung and Jungkook in the front row, holding each other and shouting your name.

Y/N! Y/N! Y/N!

"Hey! Be careful!"

The bouquet of congratulatory geraniums cradled in your arms gets crushed between your body and your brother's. He practically tackled you as soon as you entered the dressing room, carried on the cheering shoulders of the other cast and crew members.

"Holy shit." Taehyung holds you at arms length. His eyes are ringed red around the edges. "You were amazing, Y/N."

"You really think so?" Tears start to well and you're so happy to see him that you throw your arms around his waist. "I'm so glad you came, Tae."

"Yeah. You were just like her." He smiles. "Just like mom."

You share a small, sad smile. You've heard those words all your life but it feels different when it comes from Taehyung.

Jungkook pops his head into the room. He catches your eye over Taehyung's shoulder, and flashes you a small smile when he sees you cradling him in your arms.

Talk to him. He mouths, and you're suddenly reminded of why Taehyung came here in the first place.

"Hey listen—"

"Taehyung—"

You both start to talk, bursting into easy laughter when the other stops, seemingly hit with the same idea at the same time.

"You go first." You smile, encouragingly.

"Okay." He pulls you over to the couch. "I'm just...I'm sorry for storming out last night. I shouldn't have come here and expected you to help me—"

"No, stop. I'm sorry." You place a hand over his. "I want to help." You hold an arm out to Jungkook, who crosses the room and slides his hand into yours. "We want to help. We want to save the Crestmont."

Taehyung's eyes bulge. His voice drops to a whisper. "Really?"

"You were right. The Crestmont was mom's place."

You think about how it felt to be out there on the stage, in front of a crowd cheering your name. The excitement, the exhilaration. Your first stage.

The Crestmont is your mom's first stage. It's where she felt those same emotions for the first time. You can't let it be demolished. Not for anything.

"She deserves a legacy. We can't let them tear it down. I don't know how yet, but we'll save it."

"Thank you." A tear streaks his cheek, and his arms pull you and Jungkook into a tight bear hug.

"Thank you. For showing me what really matters, Tae." You whisper. "Let's do this together, okay?"

"For mom."

Taehyung holds out his pinky finger, and you link yours with his.

"For mom."

Where things go wrong.

Six months later.

Every second that passes is marked by a deafening tick from the kitchen clock.

Jungkook was supposed to be home 10 minutes ago. You're sat alone at the dinner table, a carefully presented meal for two spread across your mom's old polka dot table cloth. You even lit candles.

With a sigh you drop your chin into your hand, absentmindedly pushing your spaghetti around the dish while your eyes remain trained to the front door that will open any moment.

To be honest, it's been months since you and Jungkook shared a meal together. He spends most of his nights in his office, hunched over his laptop staring at the blinking cursor on some script he'll never finish. And ever since Jungkook's big script got rejected and he fell into a slump of no work, he had to get a job at a local convenience store all day for some spare cash to get you through the month.

You know he hates it. He hates the rude customers and how he can never shower the smell of grease out of his hair.

You know the bickering that turned into arguing that turned into fighting was just a result of his restless aggravation at being shot down too many times. Of watching his dream slip right through his fingers.

But you haven't exactly been as understanding as you should have been. You're overworked too, with the play, and The Crestmont, and you hate how easy it was to accept sleeping apart and missing dinner dates.

So you texted him to tell him you were making dinner tonight. A cease fire of sorts, or maybe just a feeble attempt at glueing back together the cracks that have appeared between you recently with pasta sauce and meatballs.

But he's late. Again.

And it makes you wonder whether there was any point in trying.

"Y/N?"

A gravelly voice jolts you out of your thoughts. Keys jangle onto the counter, shoes are slipped from feet and thrown into the storage cupboard with the creaky door.

"I'm in here." Your voice sounds meek, but you straighten and muster up a smile. To show at least one of you is making an effort.

Jungkook appears in the doorway, clad in his ugly traffic cone orange uniform. His shoulders are slumped, bangs limply stuck to his forehead. He looks tired, exhausted.

"What's all this?" He nods disinterestedly towards your untouched homemade buffet before heading to the sink to fix himself a glass of water.

"Dinner." You cough. He stiffens. "Remember?"

"Oh." He scratches the back of his neck. His eyes flash with something close to guilt momentarily, but then he smoothes it out. "Yeah. Dinner."

"It's okay, you're not too late. We can just heat this up in the microwave—"

"I already ate, Y/N." The glass in his hand slams onto the counter a little too loudly. "At the store."

You can't hide the way your face drops.

"Please." You whisper. "For me?"

Jungkook stares at you for a few seconds, unblinking, before he exhales shakily and pulls out the seat opposite you.

"What's on the menu?" He asks, hands already grabbing for the bottle of red wine in the middle of the table without so much as a glance at the food you worked so hard to prepare.

"Pasta."

"Right."

An uncomfortable silence settles. Jungkook nibbles at a meatball, and you suddenly feel too sick to the stomach to keep anything down.

You jump when Jungkook's fork clatters to the table. He wipes pasta sauce from the corners of his mouth with a napkin and you're sure you can see a slight tremor in his grasp.

"There's something I need to tell you."

His words ring out into the deafening silence that shrouds the apartment. You train your eyes to the candle in the middle of the table that flickers back and forth and carefully place down your own cutlery.

"Should I be worried?"

"No...I mean, I don't know. Maybe." Jungkook waves his hands around and when his eyes meet yours they're distant. Like the table that separates you spans oceans. "Just promise not to freak out."

"I'm not promising anything. Why are you looking at me like that?"

He shifts and the cheap flat pack dining chairs you bought when you moved in creak like they always do. "I...I got a movie deal. They loved the script I told them I've been working on and they want me to direct it."

Your heart fills with something sweet; pride. Even despite your downs recently this is still incredible news. You knew your boyfriend should be ecstatic...so why is he staring intently at the table cloth like it killed his whole family? "That's awesome, Kook. So what's the problem?"

"I gave them a different script."

Something shifts in the air. You hold your breath.

"Huh?"

"The script. The one you told me to burn before we came to New York. The one about you...your life."

Your blood runs cold and it's like your frozen. Just searching through the never ending blackness behind Jungkook's eyes that fails to falter, no matter how hard you pinch your inner thigh and hope you're about to wake up from a bad dream.

"You wouldn't." Your voice sounds strained and Jungkook doesn't even flinch. "You...I don't believe you."

"I'm sorry." He runs an exasperated hand through his hair. "It's just that they hated the first one and I wanted this deal so bad. It's a once in a lifetime chance Y/N, don't you see?"

The boy staring back at you isn't the sweet and sensitive Jungkook from Ocean City or the strong and passionate man from New York. His words get all mixed up in your head as you repeat them over and over and it's as if you don't even know him at all. All you can feel now is betrayal. And just like that all the anger that has been building inside you for months explodes.

"So my life is just a fucking plot for one of your indie movies, Jungkook?"

"It's always your life isn't it? Never mine." He slams his hands on the table hard enough to make your insides shake. "Ever since we came to New York I've supported you, sat back and watched as you achieved all your dreams. And it hurts, Y/N. To come home from my dead end job, and write another goddamn script that nobody wants to even read."

"I came to New York because of you!" You don't even realise you're crying until you taste the hot salty tears that won't seem to stop. "I came here so you could make it big! You're the one who encouraged me to audition for the play in the first place!"

"God, are you really that naive? Don't you see? I came to New York because I saw how much it meant to you." Jungkook lowers his voice, and there's something in his words that makes your heart twist. Pain. His eyes look watery and you long to reach out for him. Like the skin on skin contact will somehow make all of this okay. "And not once have you ever considered how it might feel for me to sit back in your shadow."

"So that's what this is? Jealousy?" You shake your head and get up from the table and turn to leave, but Jungkook grasps your wrist.

"Why can't you be happy for me?"

"I am happy for you Jungkook. And I always will be." Your heart softens and you're reminded of the boyfriend you know. The boyfriend you love. You want to believe he's in there somewhere so you place your hand over his, and for a second he looks hopeful. "But this was never your story to tell. That's what hurts."

He drops your arm, gaze cold and distant. "Then I guess that's it then."

"What?"

The room starts to spin.

"If you can't accept my decision to go ahead with the project then I guess we can't do this anymore."

"This?" You whisper.

"Us."

"Jungkook...Are you saying we're over?"

He drops his head into his hands and lets out a sigh. "Maybe. I don't know."

"You don't know?" You chuckle but it's hollow, empty. "You don't know if you love me any more?"

Jungkook's face drops and he lurches towards you, but you step back.

"No, shit Y/N I didn't mean it like that!" He looks scared. "I was just angry and it slipped out."

"Don't." His arms reach for you again but the brush of his fingertips feels scalding hot, wrong. "Don't fucking touch me."

"I'm sorry..."

"Don't lie to me Jungkook." Your vision is blurred with tears as you rip open the closet and yank out a suitcase. "You're not sorry. I was never your muse. I was just a stepping stool to the top."

"Where are you going?" Jungkook's crying now too. It comes out as a sob.

"Home." You say as you rip open your shared closet door and start throwing your things into the case. "I'm going home. Where I belong."

"I can't lose you like this. Please." He reaches for your wrist again but you're already half way to the door.

"Too late." You say. "I'm going home. And I'm never coming back."

The familiar scent of burned popcorn and candyfloss soothes you as you creep through the backdoor of the Crestmont. It always had a broken hinge which opened just enough for a body to squeeze through. Seems not a lot has changed since you left Ocean City.

It's dark inside. Silent too, without the popcorn machine running and the movie trailers playing on LED screens. You don't know what you expected. It's gone midnight by the time you get back to Ocean City, but you don't want to go home just yet.

Comfort washes over you as you run your fingers over the gilded edges of the counter, and slip beneath the hatch on auto pilot. It feels strange to be back here without the starched shirt and bow tie you used to hate. You've swapped out worn sneakers for heels that click against the tiles and you've performed on stages for crowd's bigger than the Crestmont's but here and now, you feel like yourself. Even though everything in your life has changed, you're still the same small town girl underneath it all.

Without thinking your legs carry you to the wall of fame. The faces smile up at you, like they're saying welcome back.

"Hey mom," You whisper, stopping momentarily in front of her portrait. You stared at it for so long as a kid that you have every detail committed to memory but seeing it up this close makes your breath hitch. "It's me."

With a sigh you force yourself past into the hall. Your hands tremble as you push open the door to the theatre. It's just how you remember it, sparkling gold and red velvet and mystery. But there's yellow tape strung up across all the seats and a sign has been propped up on the stage, red glaring letters burning a hole in your heart as you read them.

DANGER. DUE FOR DEMOLISHMENT. STAY AWAY.

All you can do is let your legs buckle, back sliding down the wall as you hug your knees to your chest and let out a throaty sob that echoes from the high ceiling.

When did everything go so wrong? You must be cursed. Everything you touch gets destroyed.

"Y/N?"

The lights flicker on, bathing the room in a soft golden glow. You wipe your tears, but that doesn't stop them from coming.

"Over here."

Your voice is small but a few seconds later Taehyung's face appears from behind one of the velvet seats. His eyes soften when he sees you curled up in the corner.

"What are you doing down here?" He clambers over the seat to join you, his long legs folded awkwardly in the small space.

"Having a one man party." You snort and point to your tear stained cheeks.

"Are you okay?" His hand covers yours and the contact makes you jump.

"Yes..." You sniff. He raises a brow. "No. Jungkook broke up with me."

Taehyung chokes. "What?!"

"I mean, we fought and then he...he said we were over." Your heart stabs painfully but you shrug. "So I came here. Didn't know where else to go."

He places an encouraging hand on your shoulder. "Listen...I know I haven't always been there for you when I should've. Hell, you always took care of me and I never even asked how you were doing." He offers a small smile. "But I'm here now. And you can tell me anything. If...if you want to."

A few seconds tick by in silence. You try to form a sentence but everything just comes back to the same three words.

"I miss mom." You blurt.

It echoes through the theatre, and you can practically hear the mermaids and the cupids painted on the ceiling gasp. It surprises you too, the combination of grief and relief that washes over you at finally admitting it.

"I know." Taehyung pulls you into his chest, lips whispering against your hair as you let out a sob and it's like all the sadness and denial is rushing out of you like a faucet, filling the whole room up like a water tank. You're terrified of the moment it gets too full, and you stop being able to breathe. "But you're a lot like her, y'know."

"That's exactly the problem!" Your words come out as a yell and it makes you both jump. "Everyone always says I look like her, I talk like her, I act like her. And I hated it for the longest time because I hated her for leaving us!"

"But without even realising it I became her, Tae. I did what I always said I wouldn't and became selfish. I hurt you, and Jungkook and even the Crestmont."

"That's not true."

"It is! And the worst part is I don't even hate her any more. I need her. To hold me, and tell me it's going to be alright. But she isn't here!"

"What does this have to do with Jungkook?"

"Jungkook wrote a script. A long time ago. About mom. And you and I. And everything that happened." You swallow, Taehyung's eyebrow raises though he doesn't look at all surprised by this information, nor as horrified as you that a record of your bleak shortcomings exists for anyone to read. "He got a movie deal. That's why we fought."

Taehyung hums. "You don't want him to make the movie?"

"It's not that I...I want to be happy for him. But I can't." You choke. "It's too painful. Remembering."

Accepting.

"When I said you were a lot like mom, I meant that you are headstrong." Taehyung pauses. "I felt that way once too. Like I hated mom and the goddamn world for taking her too soon. But in the end, the only person I hated was myself. Like however hard I tried I could never get over her, and all the pain I was pushing down into a dark place kept taunting me through the nightmares." He shivers, and you grip his hand tighter. "But one day I realised I don't have to be afraid of that pain any more. That pain is a part of me. But that doesn't mean I have to let it win."

"So what did you do?"

"I let myself feel it . I faced it. The only way I could let mom go was to stop running away." He pats your shoulder. "You need to set the girl in that script free, so you can move on."

And just like that, you're swimming...up, up, up, until you reach the surface of the water tank and you can take a heaving breath for the first time.

You throw your arms around his neck. It feels weird to hug him like this, but it's nice. "I missed you, Tae. Thank you.”

"I didn't do anything." He says. "The strength is inside you, you just need to find it. Just like you need to stop holding on to the past and let the new you shine for once."

You shake your head. "I need to talk to Jungkook. I don't know why I stormed off like that and..." You trail off. "Wait, how did you know I was here?"

Taehyung grins. "I didn't. I got called in to sort some paperwork and I noticed the back door ajar. Good thing it was you and not some crazy with a baseball bat, right?"

"At this time?" You nod to his still pyjama clad state. "Is it important?"

"Y/N," He laughs lightly. There's excitement shining in his eyes. "Someone just bought the Crestmont."

You scramble to your knees. "What?"

"We're staying open, and I get to keep my job."

And then you're hugging again, and laughing and crying because the Crestmont is going to be okay. You're going to be okay.

"That's incredible, Tae! Who is it? Who bought the Crestmont?"

"I don't know, it was an anonymous transaction. But the guy said he would be here...." He glances at his wrist watch, and as he does, the door creaks open. "Around now."

"Hello? Anyone here?" A familiar voice calls out.

"Jungkook?" Both of your jaws drop as you poke up from behind the seats. Sure enough your heart flutters when you see him, all wind swept and out of breath like he ran here.

"I thought you might be here." He scratches the back of his neck awkwardly. "Can we talk?"

The car ride to the pier was mostly silent. Jungkook borrowed his dad's old beat up truck -- it was that or his old bike with the pegs on the back -- and it still smelled like leather and petrol like it used to.

Everything about Ocean City is the same as you remember it. The pier stands strong atop the rocky sand, sea air deliciously fresh as it fills your lungs. The rolling waves shimmer like gold dust below the wisps of pink clouds that greet the rising sun. The beach is a peaceful view at this time. No tourists, all of yesterdays sandcastles swallowed by the sea spray. It took a couple hours to work through the paperwork so by now it's early morning — 5:30am according to your phone lockscreen.

It's chilly, and your skin is covered with goose bumps even despite Jungkook's suede jacket wrapped loosely around your shoulders. But you don't mind.

You've missed this. You've missed Ocean City.

"No ice cream, I'm afraid." The breeze ruffles Jungkook's hair as he emerges from the fairground and settles beside you with his legs poking through the rails. He flashes you an apologetic smile. "I guess the parlour doesn't open until 9..."

You feel a pang in your chest. Being here is like a serious case of deja vu. Countless hours spent in this very spot, eating vanilla scoops with rainbow sprinkles beside Jungkook used to be so normal. When did you grow so far apart that you're surprised he even remembers?

"Jungkook..." You swallow hard when you meet his eyes, hands longing to reach out and stroke the stream of sunrise on his cheek that makes his dark eyes sparkle. "We...we need to talk. About everything."

There's a moment of silence filled only by the calls of seagulls greeting the morning before he speaks. "I sold the script."

He sounds nervous. Like he's not quite sure what your reaction will be.

You swallow. "And you used the money to buy the Crestmont?"

"Yeah." He says matter of factly, scratching a phantom itch at his nape. "I guess I did."

"Why?" Your voice is small.

"I can't loose you, Y/N." He murmurs. "Just like you can't loose your mom. The Crestmont was her everything. But you are mine. And loosing the Crestmont would be loosing a piece of you, and I couldn't stand that."

The breeze ruffles his hair as he reaches for your hand and links your fingers and squeezes hard. You don't make any move to stop him. You know what it means, so you squeeze back and return the sentiment. I'm sorry.

Before you can stop yourself you lurch forward, arms curling around his neck and it's like coming home. His hands pull you flush to his chest, hearts beating in sync and you know everything is going to be okay now.

"Thank you." You whisper against his nape. A tear rolls down your cheek and soaks into his collar and before you know it you're blubbering. "Thank you so much, Kook."

"You aren't mad?" His voice is muffled but you can hear the quirk of his brow.

"Mad? No..no..." You lean back and wipe your eyes with your sleeve. "But what about the movie? And your dream to be a director and--"

Jungkook grabs your shoulders. His own eyes are glassy as he tucks a piece of hair behind your ear.

"That was never what mattered to me, Y/N. Not even a little bit. There's one reason I went to New York and it's the same reason I came back to Ocean City tonight. You."

"But--"

"No but's. As long as we're together, I'm already living my dream." His lips turn up into a smile, his eyes tracing your face like it's the first time and he can't get enough. "And I never ever want to wake up."

You shift in your spot to face him properly for the first time, and emotion hits you like a tidal wave. It's like all of a sudden you realize how stupid you've been; to fight with the man before you, a man who only knows kindness, about the trivial when the things that mattered the most were always right here, in front of you. The things that mattered most were always in Ocean City.

You brace your hands on his shoulders and lean up so your lips are inches apart. His eyes fall shut naturally, and you can't help but laugh with what you can only describe as one thing: happiness.

"I love you." You whisper against his lips. A warm palm cups your jaw and closes the distance between them and you're almost too lost in the way Jungkook's kiss takes your breath away to hear his response.

"I love you too."

"Sooo..." You bite your lip with a coy smile when Jungkook pulls away, the blush upon his cheeks scarlet beneath the sun which is rapidly rising. "I take it we're no longer broken up?"

"Well duh," He swats you playfully. "You think I'd do all this just to dump your ass?"

"Hey!" You pout. "I dumped your ass."

Jungkook shakes his head with a laugh.

"Besides," He glances out over the horizon nonchalantly and shrugs. "I'm gonna need help if I'm gonna start my own film company and run the Crestmont."

Your jaw drops. "A what now?"

"A film company." He explains. "A different type of film company, right here in Ocean City. For the outcasts like me who have a vision that even the biggest names in New York can't see yet." He smiles, so big and bright it makes your heart leap. "I'm gonna show them, Y/N. And everything I need to do it is right here in Ocean City."

"I know you will. I never doubted you for a second." You take his hand and link your fingers, squeezing hard. "And you bet your ass I'll be front row to watch each and every one, Jeon Jungkook."

Epilogue.

"Just keep your eyes shut!"

"I already know where we're going, so why can't I look?" You laugh, attempting and failing to tug Jungkook's interlocked fingers away from your eyes.

"Shush, it's a surprise! Just roll with it."

A surprise. That's what Jungkook said earlier too when he woke you up at the crack of dawn by throwing a dress at your head and telling you to meet him outside in the truck in 10 minutes or else.

By the time you pulled up into the familiar parking lot of your not-so-mysterious destination, the sky was already aflame with the glow of morning skimming the horizon, and Jungkook practically leapt out of the truck, palms unusually sweaty as he grasped your hand and pulled you towards the path quicker than your feet could carry you.

"What's the hurry, Kook?" You get out between heavy breaths, quads burning as the path gets steeper beneath your feet.

Come to think of it, your boyfriend has been acting strangely all week. Like hiding things behind his back when you walk into a room or talking in hushed whispers on the phone to Taehyung when he thought you were sleeping.

"You'll see." The path levels out and you stop. Jungkook wraps his arms around your waist, chin tucked into the cleft of your shoulder like a perfect puzzle piece. "Okay. Now you can look."

You round the corner, heart racing when your eyes flutter open and your vision is filled with a sea of yellow flowers. Your place.

The meadow is just how you left it, tall grass and sunny blooms dancing beneath the rays of morning sun peeking out from between the clouds. A warmth spreads through your chest and you both laugh when Gureum lets out an excited yelp, before bounding off between the stems playfully.

"I think the little guy wants us to follow him." Jungkook raises a brow and throws you a knowing shrug.

Excitement flutters in your stomach like a butterfly trapped between cupped palms. "How could I refuse?"

Fingers interlinked, you part the sunflowers and jog after the ball off fluff bouncing across the meadow, the breeze cool and forgiving as it ruffles the strands of hair that billow behind you.

Eventually you reach the clearing, and Gureum wags his tail at you proudly when you stoop down to scratch him behind his ears.

The sun reflects in Jungkook's eyes, turning them a warm golden brown. "Turn around."

You spin on your heels with a questioning glance. "Why?" That's when you see it. The spot where everything began. The tree where Jungkook kissed you all those years ago has bloomed with fragrant blossoms, and twinkle lights glow like tiny stars around it's branches. A blanket is laid out in the sun flecked shade beneath it, littered with feather cushions and lanterns and a trail of sunflower petals that begin at your feet.

"You did this?" You take his chin in your palms, face beaming despite the tears that have started to blur your vision. "Oh, Kook."

"Surprise." He smiles knowingly, grabbing you from behind and spinning you round and round until you both land with a soft thump in the middle of the outdoor cushion fort. "You haven't even seen the best part yet." He says with a nod to his right.

It's then that you notice the white sheet that's strung up a couple meters away between the trunks of two trees, Jungkook's vintage projector set up in front of it.

"What is this?" You ask, bewilderment evident in your voice.

"Gureum, would you do the honours?" Jungkook chuckles, extending a finger to point at a remote that your puppy obediently picks up with his teeth and drops into your lap with a wag of his tail.

Jungkook tucks a piece of hair behind your ear and takes a deep breath, like he's been waiting for this moment for a long time. "Go ahead. Press play and find out."

Your head shakes fondly, but your fingers tremble with anticipation as they find the PLAY button. You press it and the projector starts turning, a light flicking on at the top that makes a grainy image appear on the sheet.

The first scene is you. A teenager, dancing through the sunflower field, laughter spilling from your lips. The first time you hung out. And then it switches. You, again. Cleaning up a spill at the Crestmont, unaware of the camera. You. Paint in your hair as Jungkook chases you around the apartment in New York. You. Tears in your eyes as you hold baby Gureum for the first time. You. Asleep on Jungkook's shoulder on the subway, the camera panning to his face which lights up in a big grin, lips mouthing three words.

I love you.

Tears are hot on your cheeks, laughing as you remember the good moments and the bad, the funny and the sad, all immortalized forever through Jungkook's eyes.

The film fades out, and you throw your arms around your boyfriends neck. He chuckles when you tackle him to the ground, throwing a leg over his lap so that you can lean down and capture his lips between yours in a kiss that says all the words you want to say but you don't know how to. I love you too.

"I take it you liked it, then?" Jungkook says coyly, thumb stroking your cheek.

"It was beautiful Jungkook." You place your hand over his. "Now I know why you're always goddamn filming me."

"What can I say? You're my muse."

"Shut up." You punch him playfully. "You're gonna make me blush."

It's Jungkook's cheeks that flush pink. "Actually..." He starts to sit up, fumbling around in his back pocket. "There's something else."

"Oh?"

He clears his throat. "The first time we came to this place I knew I loved you. Back then, I said I wanted to show you what I found most beautiful. And it was you. It's always been you." He takes your hand, grip tight. "When we met we were just kids with big dreams. We might be older now but heck -- I still don't know what I'm doing. All I know is dreams come and go but you never left. You always stayed by my side. Which is why I want to promise you something."

"What, Kook?" You manage to whisper. Your heart is beating a million miles a minute in your ears. Is this what you think it is?

Jungkook swallows hard, eyes boring into yours.

"That I'll go wherever you go. New York, across oceans, up mountains -- you name it. As long as we're together, everything will be okay. So that's why I wanted to ask..." His fingers tremble as he produces a tiny black box, flicking it open to reveal a ring that sparkles see through in the sun. "Y/N, will you marry me?"

"Oh Jungkook," You throw your arms around his neck, overcome with emotion now as you capture his lips with your own. "Of course I'll marry you. You didn't even have to ask."

He lets out a sigh of relief, and then he's spinning you around in circles until you're both dizzy with love and belly laughter.

"I love you." He whispers, eyes shiny. His hand gently grasps your wrist as he slides the ring onto your finger.

You've heard him say it a hundred times before, but this time it's different. This time it's forever. Your heart flutters.

"I love you too, Kook."

Where there are new beginnings

Ocean City is the same as it always was.

You wake up each morning to the distant crash or waves, and you fall asleep each night to the tinkling fairground music that makes your heart sing. Tourists come and go, flooding the casinos and eating churros on the beach.

The Crestmont is doing better than ever. Once Taehyung took over as owner, the theatre became the heart of the city, attracting visitors from near and far to see the renowned plays directed by none other than Jeon Jungkook, the most sought after playwright and filmographer in all of the East Coast.

And then there's you. Ever since you starred in one of Jungkook's plays, about a girl from a seaside city moving to New York with big dreams, there's been no shortage of movie deals and acting opportunities thrown your way.

But in the end, you always find yourself coming back to Ocean City.

Tonight the Crestmont reopens for business after some much needed renovations. Taehyung is throwing a party, and there will be plenty of big Hollywood faces attending to see the brand new theatre and the updated __.

But one thing will always remain the same. The picture of your mom hung in the gallery. Her big smile is the heart of the Crestmont, greeting each and every visitor with pride.

And in the empty frame at the end of the wall of fame, there's a new picture.

You. Smiling, with your hair over one shoulder, just how you imagined. And beside you is Jungkook, with his arm wrapped around your waist and Taehyung holding Gureum and making a silly peace sign behind your head.

And you wouldn't have it any other way.

Okay so hi if you’re still here!! I decided to put this at the end because I didn’t wanna spoil the ending so please send love to @brekkiejeon​ !! They sent me the request for the ending of this fic all the way back in January and i’m trash and took like 7 months to finish writing it so i hope you enjoyed it even so lovely !!! <3 thank you for the request and sorry for the wait, this one really got me creative lol! 

Also I’d like to dedicate the smut in this fic to @atastefulwonderland​ because I know you love some good ole JK loving!! Hehe, ily~~

Also lemme know if this was bad because I never usually give OC so much backstory because I want it to be as relatable to the reader as poss obvi but these characters wrote themselves lmao like i’m just the writer i had no control okay???? I just do what these mfkers say. LOL.

[serenityseventeen]

Love & Letter: To The Thirteen Boys I've Loved Before

The First Letter

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

To: Choi Seungcheol

From: Y/N

Hi, Seungcheol.

I know that in your life, I've probably been a side character. A classmate in your autobiography or life movie. I don't expect to become anything more than that because now, I don't think I have a chance.

We've known each other since we were young. We've known each other for all of our life basically, right?

I can still remember what a cute kid you were back in kindergarten. You were such a nice little boy and whenever the other kids picked on me, you would stand up to them and say, “Hey! I'll tell the teacher and I'll also tell Y/N's parents about everything!”

I don't know if you remember that, but I do.

When we went to middle school, I think that's when I first began liking you. Even though we live just a block apart from each other, we didn't talk a lot outside of school. Since we were both classmates and knew each other's house location, it was a bit awkward for me, but thank you for talking to me when we waited for the bus at the bus stop together. Sometimes you would just briefly mention my hair or the small details like new shoes or socks.

Thinking about it still gives me hope that you like me.

Throughout middle school, you always fed me hope. Maybe because in general, you were just a charming, manly, attractive, and caring guy. Maybe I'm still misunderstanding too many of your actions.

I can remember so many times that my heart fluttered and my stomach filled with butterflies because of you, Seungcheol. Since this is a letter to you that I won't send, I guess I'll just write them all down here to keep as a memory, just in case I ever miss you or feel nostalgic. You're my first love, after all, Seungcheol.

There was this time when we were in 6th grade. In 6th grade, both of us didn't talk much, and surprisingly, we didn't get a lot of long-term projects together. I don't think we got any at all actually.

Anyway, it was the middle of spring and both of us were just hanging out with our group of friends. You were throwing around a paper ball, playing a game of catch with your friends during the break. I was just being the usual me, listening to my friends talk while drawing dancing cartoons in the empty spaces in my notebook. Sometimes I would glance up and catch a glimpse of you catching the ball.

Despite being in middle school, you had really large, muscular arms. I was watching you and your friend play catch for a bit. Your friend was right next to me, catching the ball, and you were on the opposite side. I turned back to my notebook then all of a sudden, the ball flew right in my face from your hands.

I let out a small “ouch” even though it didn't hurt. Your friend asked me if I was okay, to which I replied that I was fine. Just then, I don't know when you came, but you came in front of me and took my face in your hands. It only hit my forehead but you examined my cheeks, chin, nose, turning my face in all sorts of directions while asking “Are you okay? Are you hurt?” and saying “I'm so sorry” repeatedly. As I'm writing this, the lingering feeling of your warm palms holding my head and the side of my neck still makes my heart race. I didn't think my heart could beat so fast but it did. I think that's when I was sure I liked you more than a one-sided crush. It became a one-sided love for another two years.

There were way too many times my heart fluttered because of you but because this letter is already so long, I will only express my side of three of those times.

I hope this is an event that you remember. It was the day when you, me, and two other friends went to an amusement park. I think of this day as a double date. I can still remember my friend joking about how you and I looked so good together. I don't know if you noticed but I was so shy. She was also joking about how ‘this was a double date’ and because I was being paired up with you like that, I was just feeling over the moon. You didn't even say anything to deny it, you just laughed as I did.

I remember how your friend was convincing you to ride some rollercoasters but you were so afraid and whining. I remember just thinking you were so cute even though the memory is a bit blurry.

After that, because I wanted us to get closer, I said, “I'll ride it with you, it'll be okay.”

You were still skeptical but to me, it looked like you were giving in. I always wonder if it was because of me or if you were annoyed by your friend's continuous convincing. If it was because of me, then, I might regret not telling you my feelings.

Anyway, I rode the rollercoaster with you and I was, evidently, really scared. I was so scared to ride that thing that I was unintentionally screaming with you with my eyes shut. My hand was holding tightly onto the bar that secured us and I couldn't open my eyes at all. Just then, I felt your hand on mine and I could feel the courage to open my eyes. When I finally stopped yelling and opened my eyes, I saw that you still had your eyes squeezed, gripping my hand tightly.

You looked so cute, Seungcheol. If you opened your eyes, you would have seen how brightly I was smiling. Later that night, I remember, I rolled around in my bed and wiggled thinking back on it.

However, whenever I tried to get close with you, I always backed out because even though there are small moments like those I mentioned, there are more times where it seems like you don't like me the way that I like you. I don't know your heart and I know better than anyone that being friends with you would only make my love for you grow deeper.

It's the first time I'm feeling this way for anyone and I don't know what to do. I want to get closer and explicitly tell you that I like you and want you to date me, but at the same time, I don't know which decision is right. We're both still young is the only excuse I can think of, but still, I can't bring myself to tell you how I feel. All I know is that I might be in love with you and you make my heart race.

This is the last thing I'll share in this letter, even though you won't receive it. I just want to tell you my honest feelings that I can't tell you about physically. Yes, I'm being a coward and writing a letter like this.

You know, Seungcheol, you always had this strong aura to you. You can be so cute but you're so masculine too. I like how caring you are, always taking care of your classmates. I admire you for having such a great sense of responsibility. You always remind me when I'm on cleanup duty. Not to mention how charismatic you look when you rap alone at the bus stop. Your deep voice is beautiful when you sing too. I don't think you know how much I know about you. I don't want to seem creepy because these types of things are just things I can't help noticing. I don't even know why I'm writing this down, it just crossed my mind just now. I might as well pour out the rest of my heart to carve you out, right?

There was this one time last year, at the bus stop, when I arrived before you did. Usually, you always came to the bus stop first, and honestly, without you there made me feel uneasy. It made me realize a lot that your presence gave me feelings of reassurance and comfort. Without you there, I was so paranoid that I took out my headphones just in case my headphones would block out the sound of someone coming. I just remember feeling so scared, clenching my cold fists in my lap. The morning was gloomy and it was even raining.

I remember my mind racing, waiting for you to come. However, I was getting even more scared at the fact that I probably wouldn't be able to hear anything so I just wore my headphones again and listened to some music. I was looking down the sidewalk in the direction of my house, wondering if I should ask my father to drive me to school instead, when all of a sudden, you yanked out my headphones.

You were panting, covered in rain. I stood up because I was shocked and nearly wanted to hug you for coming but because we weren't close, I knew it'd be awkward if I thanked you or something. However, what you said to me, has always lingered in my head.

“Hey!” You shouted in a scolding tone, placing your hands on your hips. “What are you doing out here all alone? Why didn't you go back home and get an umbrella, it's raining so much! Plus, you could have waited until I came first until you decided to sit here alone with music blocking your ears! What are you, stupid!?”

At that time, I just stood, frozen. I was wondering why you didn't have an umbrella meanwhile my heart was fluttering. I was wondering why you were scolding me. Were you worried for me? Do you like me? Those questions still float around.

After scolding me, you sighed and apologized.

“No, it's okay,” I said quietly. I couldn't tell you that I was scared because I just didn't know how to say it without making it awkward. If I did say that I was scared since you weren't with me, would things change?

In the end, you were still soaking wet so you called your dad to get you an umbrella. Why was that? Why didn't you just come out with an umbrella?

I have so many questions about so many seemingly minor things you do to me. Are you worried just for me or are you worried for everyone, including all our classmates? Do you find me a source of comfort or were you just too scared to think on the rollercoaster?

Since the questions will never get answered like how this letter will never get mailed, I will conclude negatively, that you don't feel the same way. The main reason I'm writing this letter anyway is that I'm deciding to get over you. I know we're probably going to be stuck in the same high school but I'm going to stop loving you foolishly like this.

Thank you for being my first love. You being yourself made me feel so many different kinds of feelings, so many different emotions. I fell in love for the first time and I'm glad it was with someone like you, even if the ending is bittersweet. After summer break passes, I'll make sure to get over you.

I won't forget you though. I won't forget the way you cared for me. I won't forget the way you are.

You're an unforgettable first love, Seungcheol.

Sincerely,

Y/N

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

© serenityseventeen

6/18/21 - 3:39 pm

a/n: I'm in love with the entire Your Choice album!!! Ready to Love is such a beautiful song, gosh, I'm in love with it!!! Seventeen always has superior B-Sides and ANYONE is my new bias wrecker + The members posted on Instagram today for the first time in forever (except for Seungkwan)!!!

[havethetimeofyourstyles]

part three babies! my favorite one! enjoy <3

wc: 2.9k

taglist | story masterlist

part one part two

͙⁺˚*･༓☾　　☽༓･*˚⁺‧

The weekend had gone by way faster than you’d expected, and you were sad to see Anne and Gemma leave. 

You were sure that you were probably sadder than Harry as they were driving away from the house as you watched their car before it was nowhere to be seen. Harry chuckles beside you, and practically pulls you into the house as he tells you ‘don’t be sad’ and ‘I’m sure you’ll call them up to hang out again once you get home’, and he was probably right. 

It was already Monday, meaning there were five days left of this trip, more so four, since everyone was leaving on Saturday. The trip had made your emotion ride a rollercoaster, and it was an obstacle to say the least. You and Harry have been comfortable and doing well so far, and you’re glad for it. 

For the last week at the lake house, everyone decided to just go with the flow since Dan and Lina didn’t have anything planned. Everyone was pretty tired of doing the same thing, so they did their own thing. 

Dan and Jackson had gone out and took a boat ride somewhere. Minny was on her laptop, sitting on the lawn chair while Lina was right next to her, enjoying the sun. Harry was in the living room, watching a movie. And you were in the kitchen, learning a new recipe. 

You were learning how to make an entire cheesecake, so everyone can have it for dessert, and it’s going really well, which surprised you seeing you can’t cook for shit. But you think baking has the opposite effect; you thoroughly enjoyed baking. 

“Need any help?” You jump slightly from being startled by the new voice in the room. 

“I’m okay right now, thanks.” You smile softly, thanking him, and he nods. “So tell me, Harry.” 

“What do you wanna know?” He leans against the counter, watching you mix the wet ingredients in a mixer. 

“Are you excited to start touring?” You ask like you don’t know the answer. Of course, he’s excited to travel again. It was always his favorite part about being a musician. 

“Yeah…kinda.” You were surprised by his hesitation. 

“Kinda?” 

“Yeah, I mean, I love touring and all but…” he trails off. Yes, he loves touring, but that was when you were together. As much as he hated leaving you, it only gave him a reason to come back and come home. Now, he doesn’t have anyone to go home to. He hates walking into an empty house after traveling for months on end. 

“But…” you urge him to continue. 

“It’s nothing. But yeah, I’m excited.” He opted for a little white lie; something that won’t cause you both trouble after this conversation. 

You two talk about his upcoming tour outfits, the stage setup, and the set list, and you begin to realize again how easy it is to talk to him about things. Although Harry would usually prefer if people talk about things other than his work, he doesn’t mind with you. He knows he can tell you these things, and he loves hearing you talk in general, so it didn’t matter the topic, he just wanted to hear you talk. 

Talking to you has always been easy. Not only were you willing to talk, knowing Harry is usually the type of person that lets the other person talk, but you were also willing to listen to him when he did talk. With you, Harry can ramble for so long because that just shows how comfortable he is around you, and he really appreciates it, or rather he took it for granted. 

͙⁺˚*･༓☾　　☽༓･*˚⁺‧

Day ten of the trip, and you had slept in. 

With consistently waking up before or at 8 a.m, waking up early and sleeping late at night was beginning to take a toll on your body. Your body and mind needed rest, so you slept in until 11. You were even surprised that the bright light coming from the big window didn’t wake you up. You most likely would’ve slept past that, but when you opened your eyes, you were met with Harry’s green ones and his hand on your shoulder, gently shaking you to wake up. 

“What?” You grumble, not knowing why he’s waking you up, and you shut your eyes closed again. 

“Wake up.” He says in a soft and hushed voice, and you bury your head into the pillow. 

“Why?” 

“It’s already 11, you got to wake up.” His hands rake through your hair, and it is definitely not helping you wake up. 

“Still don’t understand.” 

“Everyone has been awake for an hour or two, and we’ve eaten breakfast without you already. So get your sleepy ass up.” He takes a seat on the edge of the bed, knowing that you’re always so difficult to get up in the morning. He also didn’t want to leave, knowing that you’ll fall right back asleep once he steps out of the room. 

You groan against the pillow for what Harry thinks is the millionth time. You eventually open your eyes wide, waking yourself up fully, and remove the covers. Harry notices that you’re only wearing your panties and a big shirt that he recognizes it’s your dad’s, and he gets slightly flustered, even though he’s seen you in less many, many times. 

You let out a throaty mumble, “I hate you.” Harry chuckles and pats your leg. 

“Alright, let’s go.” 

The two of you make your way out of your room and downstairs where music was slowly getting louder the closer you two got. You greet everyone and walk towards Minny who is sitting on the couch to give her a hug, which she gladly takes you in her arms, knowing that you’re affectionate when you just wake up. 

Everyone swayed to the music whether they were sitting on the couch or standing. Lina and Dan always loved playing music from their record player when they were inside doing nothing. The music jumped from artists, mostly Fleetwood Mac to Queen to The Zombies. 

You see Harry change out the vinyl, skipping a few songs before landing on one and walking back to where you were sitting. He takes his hand out for you to grab, and you recognize the song; one of your all time favorites. 

1973 by James Blunt. 

You gladly take his hand, and he leads you behind the couch so you two have more space to dance. Your hands are in his, putting a space in between you two as you both sway and Harry sings. 

“Your journey’s been etched on your skin.” 

He lets go of one hand to twirl you around, making you laugh, but you freely go with the flow. Lina and Dan are both dancing in their own little bubble and talking, most likely talking about their journey together and how far they’ve come with two kids. It was admirable, really. You loved watching the people in love, be in love. 

“I would call you up every Saturday night, and we’d both stay out until the morning light…” Harry’s singing brought you back to him as you were simply appreciating the love that was bouncing off the walls and across the room. 

The lyric took you back to when you and Harry were dating; when you would both stay up until the early morning to go on adventures and find places that were open late at night, or laying in bed talking until the sun came up, completely losing track of time, but not caring because neither of you were tired. Talking or making love until the morning light was shown through the curtains of his room, reminding you that you haven’t slept an ounce, but you didn’t care. 

The song that you and Harry always loved dancing to in the living room on a relaxing evening with wine in your hands that was replaced by his hand as he pulled you closer. You remembered the feeling of swaying and dancing with him in his living room as old lovers’ hippie music was playing in the background. And you remember it just like it was yesterday. The times you were so happy and everything was okay. He held you in his arms, and whispered soft and sweet words in your ear, telling you how you looked so beautiful and how much he loves you. 

The song that reminded you so much of your relationship with him, that’s why it was both of your favorites. 

“Simona, I guess it’s over. My memory plays our tune, the same old song.” 

Harry sings, but with a small frown on his face. And you think—no, you know, that he was thinking the exact same thing as you were. How you were taken back by flashback down memory lane, thinking of times during your relationship; how happy you both used to be. Harry had the realization that after everything, this song was still relatable to the current situation. 

He would play this song over and over again. In times when he missed you, which was always because he’s played it at least once everyday since the breakup. He would play the same old song, missing your touch and your love. And he’s not sure if he’ll have that again. 

The chorus plays again, and he’s taken out of his thoughts. He looks down at you to find you in your own head, and he gently pulls you closer to him so your chests are pushed together and his arms are wrapped around each other. You don’t wrap your arms around him though, not being sure if it’s the right thing, and he senses your hesitation. 

“Just dance.” He says one ear. “This will pass.” He says in the other. He pulls back so you’re face to face with him. “Love will find a way.” He says looking at your lips. “It always does.” He says, this time looking in your eyes. 

Shivers immediately ran down your spine with his hushed voice that caused goosebumps to grow on your skin, and made the hairs stand up. 

You were about to say something until a realization hit you. “You did not just quote Stevie Nicks’ Instagram post…” 

Harry throws his head back in laughter, causing everyone else in the room to look at him funny. You love when he does that; throwing his head back, showing the amusement in his laugh that echoed the room. “Way to ruin the moment.” You chuckle. 

“You would do that.” 

“What, it’s a good post.” He smiles. 

“Yeah, just because your name and album is on it.” You roll your eyes in amusement, and he shakes his head, thinking how crazy it was that you caught on to that. 

The song had ended and the next one played. You thought your dancing session with Harry had ended, but he stays still, keeping his arms wrapped around you safely. You don’t say anything, not like you want to, so your arms find their way back around his waist, holding him close and thinking how lovely it would be to make this moment last forever. 

͙⁺˚*･༓☾　　☽༓･*˚⁺‧

Day eleven and twelve was spent all together. 

Minny had suggested another boat ride, and everyone agreed since they were coming down to the last few days. Two weeks had gone by rather quickly, and it was a trip that was memorable. 

You’ve learned a lot during this trip about you, Harry, Minny, everyone. It was a bonding experience that you were grateful to have. 

The moment you had with Harry, dancing to the music that was playing softly from the record player, made your stomach flutter. The way you both held each other so tight and didn’t want to let go will forever be ingrained in your heart. You don’t know how you’re feeling or what you want to feel, but you know it’s something that you can’t describe. Being with Harry and the emotions that come with it was a whirlwind of many things, but you missed it wholeheartedly. 

After the boat ride, everyone was out in the water, and you decided to lay a towel on the shore, basking in the sun. You heard the laughter of your family as you watched Jackson practically tackle Minny into the water, making you laugh as well. 

A towel was set beside you and you see Harry lay on it. You look up at him through your sunglasses, and see his tanned body that was etched with tattoos and gloriousness. You thought of how beautiful he is, inside and out, and although he made some mistakes in the past, it doesn’t make him any less beautiful, just human. 

“Doing alright?” He asks, noticing your linger and making him blush. 

“Yup.” You respond, looking away. 

“Did you have fun on this trip?” His eyes don’t stir away from yours, and you feel the heat, that’s not from the sun, creeping up your body. 

“Yeah, it was a lot of fun. Learned so much about myself and all of you, and it’s nice to just let go.” Harry wanted you to elaborate on letting go, and he’s wondering if you’d let go of what happened a year ago. But he doesn’t push it. Not wanting to make a mess in something he can’t go back and fix. 

“That’s good. I’m glad.” You nod.

“What about you? Did you have fun?” You reciprocate the question.

“Mhm. Had a lot of fun. It’s nice spending time with everyone. With you.” You turn your head to look at him. Seeing if he genuinely meant what he said, and no lies were detected. But you don’t say anything, just acknowledging the fact that he enjoyed your company. 

It was silent for a moment, and the only thing that was heard was the water and the laughter. The sun had gone down slightly, but it was still bright and hot enough to stay outside. 

“I wanted to ask,” Harry suddenly says. You turn your head, giving him your attention. “I wanted to ask if you’re okay. With everything. How are you feeling?” You know he’s asking on a deeper level, and not how you’re feeling at the moment. 

“With you or with life in general?” 

“Uhh…I—both?” You nod. 

“I know there’s some—a lot of unresolved things that we might—should discuss, but so far so good. I’m fine with everything. As for life, I don’t know…” Harry’s brows furrow as you trail off, but he doesn’t say anything, rather letting you gather your thoughts and letting you finish. “It’s hard, y’know? I miss him so much. I just want him here. He should be here, and I’ve just never felt more alone than I did for the past year.” Harry feels guilty, but he can’t do anything about what he did in the past. But he does have the present time and the future to make it right. 

“You’re so strong, you know that? One of the strongest people I know. Don’t know anyone who’s getting stuff thrown at them and taking it like you. It’s why I admire you. You don’t give up. You keep going.” Your eyes well up with tears, and you’re thankful for the sunglasses and the coverage from your glossy eyes it’s providing you. 

“Thank you, Harry.” 

After dinner, the group was gathered around the coffee table in front of the fireplace. They all agreed to stay inside, instead of lighting up the fire pit since they all had already showered and didn’t want to go to bed smelling like smoke. 

Conversations had flown across the table with a glass of wine in front of everyone, and as always, music was playing on the record player. 

Everyone had a slight buzz to them, some more than others, as they proceeded to get louder and more fond of each other. 

“Oh my gosh!” Minny squealed, immediately getting up once she found out what vinyl Dan had put on.

 You recognize the first song once it starts playing it’s groovy beat, and you either want to cry or dance. You look down and smile fondly, taking a glance at the shirt you had brought for comfort and safety. Once you put your head back up, everyone was staring at you, but not in a creepy way, but more of an adoring and warm smile. You take a deep breath, and get up to join your best friend. 

‘I Wanna Dance with Somebody’ by Whitney Houston was playing, and a smile so big as Whitney’s matched your face. 

Your dad was the biggest fan of Whitney, and went to all of her shows every time she came to your hometown. Some people might’ve thought it was weird for a man to love Whitney so much, but he simply didn’t care. He just said ‘okay, and?’, and would carry on with his day. You loved that about him. 

Everyone else joined you and Minny; jumping, dancing, and singing practically vibrated the whole entire house, making you feel so loved and grateful. 

As the song was almost coming to the end, and everyone, except you and Minny, were still jumping and dancing, you two hung back, hugging each other. 

“I love you.” She says as her grip becomes tighter, more warmer. 

“I love you too. Thank you for everything.” You smile into her shoulder, relieved that you’ve got a best friend and sister like her. 

“He really did love Whitney, huh?” You let out a breathy chuckle and pull away. Tears threatened to fall, but they were happy tears instead of frustrated and upset ones. 

You nod, knowing how much your dad would love to be here in this moment with everyone he loves. But you also know that he is here, with you. With everyone. And in the comfort of his shirt, just like it always does every night, it eases your anxiousness all together. 

“Yeah, he really did.” 

just one more part left before the epilogue!

feedback is appreciated pls!

taglist : @pradaxstyles​ @iconicharry​

[shoggothkid]

Prompt - Write about an old friend.

My childhood best friend killed someone, or at the very least helped kill someone - according to official court records and her convictions.

It’s one of the most bizarre things to think about. We were friends in the first grade, and through most of elementary school. We had slumber parties where we’d stay up all night listening to Kiss (her favorite), playing with a Ouija board (my favorite), and watching that really awful 90s Shakespear movie (our favorite). We went to our first school dance together when we were 11. We’d spend our summers riding quads through the trails behind her house and looking for shark teeth and arrowheads in the river in the park. Years and years of birthday parties and field trips and family trips...and then we lost touch.

I moved and she moved and social media didn’t exist yet in the capacity it does now, nor did everyone carry around a cell phone, but once those things became more accessible I started looking for her.

It took 10 years and many messages to profiles that weren’t her, but when I finally did find the one, I was shocked at the response. Instead of her replying, it was her little brother who said yes, he absolutely remembered me, but had some bad news.

Now, he didn’t outright tell me what happened, and he had boiled the whole experience down to “she got into some trouble with her boyfriend and she’s currently in the county jail”. He gave me the boyfriend’s name and I was able to take it to Google from there.

It’s hard to explain the emotional rollercoaster that I accidentally strapped myself into. It didn’t seem real. This was someone I had (and still have!) happy childhood memories of and there I was reading things like “double homicide” and “shallow grave”. I still struggle now 10 more years later with the things that I know now.

I’ve looked back on the friendship we had as children and wonder if there were signs that this is the person she would become and frankly, I see it. Not in her behavior, but in her situation. She was the oldest of three and living with her single mother who genuinely was a good person and did everything she could for her kids. Looking back now with some life experience, it’s clear to me that they didn’t have a lot of money. I do remember the few times I met her father, who now looking back seemed to be in a much better financial situation than her mother was. I don’t remember much about her relationship with her dad, but I do remember a number of times that she had been upset that he cancelled plans with her and her brothers.

It makes sense to me that her relationship with men would be tainted. Not in a “oh she had daddy issues” way, but in the things we study in psychology way where our relationships with our parents frame the relationships we choose with other people. I know nothing about this boyfriend outside of the details of this case, but I do know that my friend had always been a follower. It makes the most sense to me that growing up during crucial developmental years without an example of a healthy relationship on top of being more willing to follow than lead that she could have been so caught up with this man that she’d do anything for him, or to protect him. Hell, I’ve been there myself. Who among us hasn’t experienced at least one toxic relationship, romantic or platonic?

I try to view the situation with empathy, but know that it’s mainly in part to the memories of my friend as a child, back when she was still innocent. It’s hard to imagine that the sweet kid I was so close with was a part of such a horrific event, and I think it’s natural to try and explain how someone you knew so well could do something so seemingly out of character.

I haven’t attempted to reconnect, and I’m positive I never will.

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

Heavy TW for this link:

https://caselaw.findlaw.com/nj-superior-court-appellate-division/1649064.html

[kickasskody]

                          DAKOTA ‘ kody ’ PIERCE, a character study.  “just because i cannot see it, doesn’t mean i cannot believe it.” -- jack skellington

Character’s full name: dakota pierce Reason for name and/or meaning of name: kody’s parents met and fell in love in north dakota, and decided to name their son after the great state 💖 Character’s nickname: kody Reason for nickname: in middle school, kody didn’t think the name dakota was cool. but the name kody, the most generic white boy name ever , was definitely cool Birth date: december 13th, 2002. baby sagittarius 

Physical appearance Faceclaim: austin abrams Gender: cis male Height: 5″8 #shortking Build: scrawny boy body. looks like he couldn’t lift more than 30 pounds... PSYCH!!! he’s a vampire so he can actually lift several hundred pounds 🤪🤪🤪 Eye color: blue with little dark green specks Glasses or contacts?: not with that snazzy 4k vampire sight !! Distinguishing marks/scars: funny little frecklescape on his back that looks like this emoji 😦 Hair color: dirty blonde Type of hair: type 1, aka straight hair Hairstyle: gets up out of bed, looks in mirror. maybe tussles it a little bit. thats it Physical disabilities: none Mental disabilities: adhd Clothing style: sweaters sweaters sweaters. striped sweaters ( because the best time to wear one is all the time ), disney sweaters, sweaters with dogs on them. white collared shirts to go underneath most of them. denim jackets, a couple of them tattering with holes in the elbows. black skinny jeans -- like he owns four pairs of the same black skinny jeans. someone tell him that skinny jeans aren’t in style anymore. uses the same jansport backpack he’s had since the eighth grade with a sewn in epcot center patch on the front pocket. dirty checkered vans. falling apart high-top converse. it’s not that he’s poor and can’t afford new things, he just prefers all his old stuff.  Make up: has never worn any but wouldn’t be opposed to trying some !!

Personality Good personality traits: good at secret keeping, friendly and uplifting, loyal, thoughtful, great memory, cautious, playful. chaotic good energy  🥰 Bad personality traits: gullible, slightly obnoxious, constantly confused, easily distracted Mood character is most often in: cheery, happy as f, practically bouncing off the walls Sense of humor: goddamn hilarious!!! at least he thinks so lol Articulation: loud and occasionally stuttery. repeating himself pretty often. the type to get lost in the middle of conversation and have to take a second to mentally loop back and remember what exactly they were talking about. uses the word ‘ like ‘ way too much. talks with his hands a whole lot. constantly talking like he’s a kooky disney character on a mission. Character’s greatest joy in life: riding a mf’in roller coaster Character’s greatest fear: disneyworld getting blown up / physically hurting someone  Character is most at ease when: he’s curled up with his friends watching a disney movie Most ill at ease when: he’s laying in bed at night, pretending he’s sleeping since he can’t Enraged when: thinking about how there are vampires in bridgemead -- that they could turn other people, kill other people, or worse... harm his friends.  Depressed or sad when: drinking from a blood bag. watching disney pixar’s coco. thinkin’ about a disneyworld churro and how he’ll never be able to enjoy the taste of one again. Priorities: at the moment? trying not to hurt anybody.  Life philosophy: “Keep Moving Forward!” -- walt disney said that Greatest strength: his optimism / ability to take something sad or bad and turn it around! Greatest vulnerability or weakness: giving just about anyone the benefit of the doubt. 

Goals Drives and motivations: getting enough money to be able to travel the world and visit every disney park on the planet.  Immediate goals: graduating high school / helping the scooby gang solve mysteries Long term goals: roller coaster designer / engineer. create a haunted house / rollercoaster hybrid ride

Childhood Hometown: orlando, florida Type of childhood: the kind where he’s an only child, where his middle class parents live to please and spoil him, take him to whatever amusement park he wanted to go to and buy him all the best merch. the smile on his face was worth more than anything they ever could’ve purchased for themselves. kody probably would’ve had siblings, but his parents had complications getting pregnant again, and thus they lived to make sure he had the best life possible.  Pets: a cat named toulouse ( shoutout aristocats ), but he passed when kody was fifteen Most important childhood memory: waiting in line for five hours to ride harry potter and the forbidden journey at universal studios orlando. blew his little kid mind. Dream job: imagineer!! Religion: non-practicing christians. church on easter and christmas ONLY!

Present Current location: bridgemead, massachusetts Currently living with: his parents 💖 Pets: none Religion: agnostic Sexuality: currently questioning his sexuality. growing up he always felt attracted to both boys and girls, but has never been able to articulate it. he’s only ever expressed interest in women, but he has a fat crush on chris evans as captin america Politics: would be socialist if he cared enough to think about politics Occupation/education: bridgemead high school super senior Mode of transportation: his parents dark blue prius!! but only thursday - sunday

Family Parent one: marcus pierce -- drug store manager Relationship with them: kody and his dad are best buds! if it weren’t for his fathers love for rollercoasters, kody doesn’t know what his life would be like today. they used to play rollercoaster tycoon growing up and kody still cherishes those memories today. Parent two: tina pierce -- bridgemead city manager Relationship with them: kody and his mother have a very loving relationship. however, kody’s adoration for his mother dwindled when it was her job that forced them to move to bridgemead. he thinks of it as her fault that he doesn’t get to go to disneyworld anymore, and there’s a bitter part of him that thinks that if she hadn’t made them leave, he never would’ve become a vampire. he knows its wrong to attribute her to his curse, but sometimes when he’s really sad he cant help it.  Siblings: none Other important family members: his widowed aunt shirley who lives twenty minutes from disneyworld and occasionally would join them on their weekend visits to the parks. he misses her greatly 😩😩

Favorites Color: that bright electric blue color on the cinderella castle at disneyworld  Music: electronic Food: a disneyworld churro.  Film: the incredibles / scooby doo 2002 Drink: pink lemonadde mixed with sprite Form of entertainment: disney+ subscription. if that’s all he had, he’d be content. Most prized possession: a magic kingdom two day passport ticket from the 1980′s

Habits Hobbies: playing rollercoaster tycoon / designing rollercoasters on his computer. obsessively watching ghost club paranormal on youtube. bothering aj with the latest thing on his mind that she definitely doesn’t need to know about Plays a musical instrument?: nope. wishes he could though!  Plays a sport?: nope, but would be great at track now that he’s a vampire! How he would spend a rainy day: playing kingdom hearts II in his pajamas. Spending habits: great at hoarding all of his allowance! since he’s not spending it on food, he’s an excellent saver. pre-vampirism kody was not as cautious with his spending.  Smoking/drinking/drugs?: no way 🙅🏼 has yet to even try alcohol Extremely skilled at: cheering up his friends! finding the good in others and convincing them to see it too 🤗 Extremely unskilled at: stopping himself from crying when he’s sad / when he’s in the middle of crying. putting together pieces of their investigations. sure, he can find things -- but what the hell is he supposed to do with them once he’s got it?!?! Nervous tics: anxious picking at his cuticles. messing with his hair. aggressive foot tapping. scrolling through his phone without actually looking at anything.  Usual body posture: that boy has been working on rollercoaster code on his computer for YEARS. his body posture is absolutely RUINED! Mannerisms: constantly talking with his hands. bouncin’ around like tigger when something exciting happens. abbreviating things that don’t need to be abbreviated. the loudest in the room at all times.

Traits Optimist or pessimist? Introvert or extrovert? Daredevil or cautious? Logical or emotional? Leader or follower? Disorderly and messy or methodical and neat? Prefers working or relaxing? Confident or unsure of himself/herself? Animal lover? HELL YEAH.

Self-perception How do they feels about themselves?: before the year 2020, kody actually quite liked himself! he realized that he was goofy and sometimes not everyones cup of tea, but for the most part, he knew he was a good guy who was a little obnoxious! now, he has mixed feelings about himself. vampirism has elevated a lot of his emotions and more often than not now, he dislikes himself for what he’s become, or what he could become if things turn bloody.  One word the character would use to describe themselves: spunky What does the character consider their best trait?: his compassion What does the character consider their worst trait?: his gullibility  What does the character consider their best physical characteristic?: his fluffy hair !! What does the character consider their worst physical characteristic?: that he’s a short king. stream short kings anthem by tiny meat gang How does the character think others perceive them?: he’s pretty sure most people think that he’s wildly annoying, but that doesn’t stop him from being fully himself most of the time!  What would the character most like to change about himself/herself: his vampirism!! get this shit out of him just make him a normal aging boy again!!

Relationships with others Opinion of other people in general: kody is a big ole’ ball of love, and thus so, he tries to share that with everyone. strangers are treated with compassion, acquaintances are treated as old friends, and friends are treated like family. unless kody already knows someone to be a bad person, or is wary of them, he’s genuinely one of the nicest people one could ever meet. Opinion of the Scooby Gang: talented, brilliant, incredible, amazing, show stopping, spectacular, never the same, totally unique, completely not ever been done before, unafraid to reference or not reference, put it in a blender, shit on it, vomit on it, eat it, give birth to it. Does the character hide their true opinions and emotions from others?: it depends on the topic, but for the most part, yes. when it comes to most scooby gang related endeavors, kody will share his thoughts -- if it’s something related to movies or tv, he’ll be talking your ear off for hours. if it’s something that could result in it hurting someone else, he’ll be quiet, and if his vampirism was ever to come into question, he’d be absolutely be suppressing it.  Most important person in character’s life: oh god, not to pick scooby gang favorites, but probably aj. she’s the closest thing he has to a sister, and he doesn’t know what he would do without their banter, and her support. Best friend/s: aj darke, dylan frye, & arabella byrne Dating experience: absolutely none. kissed 2 girls in the span of 2 years over 3 years ago. Romancing: kody wouldn’t know the first thing about trying to get someone to date him. all he knows is the stuff he’s seen on tv, watched in movies, or experienced around him ( such as his parents successful marriage, or his friends dating people ), but if it were to come down to him, he’d be extremely awkward. picture tom holland’s spiderman trying to talk to zendaya’s mj in far from home -- because that’s extremely accurate. kody isn’t trying to date anyone right now for a couple of reasons: one being that he’s too nervous, and not exactly looking for love, but if it were to happen... he wouldn’t run from it necessarily. but two being that his vampirism creates a bit of a problem for him, and he’s not sure if he should subject anyone to the curse he’s stuck with.

Extra Physicality: if necessary, could probably lift a car and throw it down the street. as of right now, doesn’t know how strong he really is / is more concerned about hurting his friends with this supposed strength than he is finding out how many hundreds of pounds he could lift. kody in a fight? probably losing within the first five seconds, unless bloods drawn and the instinct to pounce takes over. Species: vampire How do they feel about it?: hates it. would do anything to reverse it. wishes he had just stayed a little longer at karma cafe that night. or had never gone at all. How do they look in their supernatural form?: pretty much the same, however when he’s hungry and near blood, his eyes go all dark and bloodshot, and the veins around his eyes start to pulse ( basically just like vampire diaries ), but kody is unaware of this since he’s never seen it happen to himself or another vampire

[beccasbigworld]

Blog Post #1 Examining Youth Culture

I loved watching the show Euphoria the best out of all of the assigned movies and shows. It’s been something I’ve been wanting to watch for a while so I thought this was the perfect opportunity to binge the whole season. The movies and shows assigned to watch were, Euphoria, The Breakfast Club, Mean Girls, Mid-90’s and KIDS. I know... That’s so fetch, right? Throughout each film, there were tons of astounding characters, some being well known throughout society. Perhaps Regina George rings a bell to anyone? However, despite all of the fantastic characters in each work, I feel as if I identify with Rue from the show Euphoria the most. I feel the most connected to Rue because she is a young teenage girl who has to deal with mental health issues but also the fact that she has fluid sexuality. She likes men, women and just gravitates towards anyone she feels connected to. I'm part of the LGBTQ+ community so the amount of representation I felt in the show was slightly overwhelming. Especially since many older shows and films lack representation so when something arises with more LGBTQ+ representation it makes me happy. I also know how it feels to be in Rue’s shoes, especially with her relationship with Jules in the show. The whole season is a rollercoaster of Rue and Jule’s relationship and as the season progresses Rue finally takes the leap of faith and kisses Jules. **Sorry if I spoiled it for anyone** I’ve been in situations with past relationships where I liked a girl for so long but never could make the move and it was interesting to see Rue’s confidence build and I think her becoming sober helped with that aspect. An article titled The Unicorn Scale written by bi.org it discusses the different sexualities and identities of the characters in the show. It states that Rue, “Rue’s sexuality seems to be unexplored but fluid, she is clearly interested in men, women, and everyone else. Rue’s bisexuality is not shown as the cause or causing her drug addiction, it is simply another facet of who she is. Her nerves seem limited to the normal anxieties we feel for our first love” (The Unicorn Scale: Euphoria) Rue’s character also goes through many ups and downs throughout the season. She struggles with drug addiction and staying sober. She lost her Dad to cancer and had to have her younger sister find her overdosed in her room. Three common themes I’ve noticed in each of these films and shows are one, family dynamic/struggles, sex, and, coming of age moment.

The first theme, family dynamic/struggles is relatable to youth culture because growing up as a young adult or teenager can bring a lot of family issues. For example, in the movie MID90’S the main character Stevie is physically abused by his brother Ian. In one scene, Ian barges through Stevie's room in the middle of the night and punches him repeatedly. There is also no father in the picture and his mother is a single mom. So this could contribute to some of the reasons why Ian abuses Stevie. He could be taking out his anger in the only way he knows how and that’s with violence. I feel that people, especially young men struggle with dealing with their emotions and healthily expressing them. This theme also relates to me because I struggle with family issues and throughout the years it has taken a toll on my mental health. We also see in the movie KIDS the family dynamic and how it affects the main character, Telly. In one scene they show Telly’s mom taking care of the baby in their small city apartment. Telly asks for money and the mom says she doesn’t have any to give. Telly goes out and says he will be back later. The mom is so focused on the baby that she is not paying close attention to her son and what he is doing. This negatively affects Telly because he gets into the wrong group of people. This happens often without young people, it's a form of negligence that can lead people down the wrong path.

Another example is the dynamic between Nate Jacob's and his father in the show Euphoria. From a young age, Nate has been intimidated and scared by his father. In one scene, Nate’s father comes into his room and tells him how he played in the football game. Nate and his father get into a physical altercation and Nate starts to beat his head repeatedly against the floor. The second theme of sex is a big issue in most of these films and tv shows. When viewing and studying youth culture I’ve noticed how sex is a big part of a young person's life. Especially when I was in high school, sex was a majority of what people were talking about and it always mattered who was hooking up with who. I didn’t necessarily care for it and I had my experiences later in my life and at the end of the day, I don’t think it’s worth the hype and stigma around it. There are more things to do and talk about than sex. In the movie KIDS for example the main discussion of the film was sex and how the main character Telly wanted to have sex with virgins because they were seen as pure and innocent and he had the power to take that away from them. In the movie MID90s, the character Stevie has his first sexual experience and it was very real for many young people. In the scene, he starts to shake and get nervous, in an interview conducted and written by Slate Culture, asks Jonah Hill, the director of the Mid90s film, about the scene. Jonah states, “To me, showing it as harsh and as honest as it was back then was the point. You know? The point that this kid is terrified and shaking during his first sexual experience. And we get to see that as the audience. And he only gets happy and excited once he realizes it’s his currency to raise up through the group And that’s a fucked-up lesson that a lot of people now are having to unlearn from this time period And to me, I just wanted to show how that was and let the audience see that for what it is” (Bloomer) When you have your first sexual experience it can be a very nerve-wracking moment and in youth culture, the sexual experience is different for many and I believe it's split between boys and girls. As portrayed in these films for the young men, when they have sex it’s a powerful experience that boosts their confidence when they tell the group of guys they are associated with. For girls, it’s a moment that is more kept to themselves and cherished in a sense.

Being that I identify as a lesbian my experience doesn’t follow the heterosexual story so it’s interesting to me to see how the experience can be for heterosexual people. Lastly the last theme of a coming of age moment. I feel that when you are a young teen there is always this hope that you will have this coming of age moment like in the videos. I feel that Hollywood does a good job of exaggerating what a coming of age moment is for a teen. The film that is a clear example of a coming of age moment is the iconic Breakfast Club. According to the source, Movies, “The Breakfast Club (1985) is perhaps one of the best examples of a classic ‘coming of age’ plot. The film details the lives of five high schoolers stuck in a weekend detention together, only to have the misfit gang bond together despite their differences. This cast of characters are delineated by the conventional roles they fill: the Outcast, the Princess, the Jock, the Basket Case, and the Brain” (Holderbaum) The Breakfast Club shows how highschoolers defeated the stigmas and social scale of highschool. This connects to me a lot because high school was a very difficult time for me. Just like the movie we watched Mean Girls, I was at the bottom of the social ladder because I was different from a lot of people. Being a lesbian, out in highschool isn’t fun especially when you have guys who say “I can change that”. Despite the exaggeration by Hollywood with this big coming of age moment, I believe that my coming of age moment just like the Breakfast club was defeated the social ladder and being a confident, strong, lesbian at the end of my high school career.

The soundtrack of a film, TV series impacts the narrative of a story because it can uplift any emotion or feeling a character is feeling or trying to portray. The soundtrack can make or break a film/show. The soundtrack is a narrative of the story and can bring chills down your spine when watching a film. If a soundtrack is not done well the movie is not as impactive. In the movie the Breakfast club mostly everyone knows the famous song Don’t You and the iconic last scene. If it wasn’t for that song I believe the movie would not have been as famous. The playlist I made called Adolescent experience is a list of 10 songs that define me and myself growing up as a young teen trying to figure herself out. The first song on my playlist is, Electric Feel by MGMT, this song was one of the first songs that I listened to when I got my first iPod. The feeling it gave me felt like I was in an indie film when I would listen to it on long car rides. The second song on my playlist is What You Know by the Two Door Cinema Club. This song helped me with coping with my feeling of being lonely and feeling like I had no one to connect with, especially with being a young teen still stuck in the closet. The third song on my playlist is Little Secrets by Passion Pit. The band Passion Pit was one of the first bands I ever discovered and fell in love with. The fourth song I have in my playlist is 1901 by Phoenix. Anytime I listen to this song it gives me this feeling that I can accomplish anything. The fourth song is All For Us from the show Euphoria and sung by Zendaya and Labrinth. I love this song because it reminds me of the love I carry to many people in my life and how it can be tiring doing things for love all the time. The next song, Work by Rihanna is one of my favorite songs to dance to and it reminds me of a great memory of my middle school best friend Nina and me. The seventh song is Butterflies by Kacey Musgraves, this song is very meaningful to me because it's me and my girlfriend's song and it’s a reminder of the growth I have made within myself and my love life. The eighth song is Cruise by Florida Georgia Line, this was the first country band I started listening to when I was younger and the band reminds me of a very traumatic experience in my life. The ninth song is Man I Feel Like A Woman by Shania Twain. This song strikes a happy memory in my childhood because when all of my siblings were little and would be in my mom's suburban driving down the road we would sing this with her. The last song on my playlist is The Less I Know The Better by Tame Impala. This song just gives me an overall feeling of happiness and it was a song I listened to a lot when I was in a really good spot mentally.

[beingmumandpuzzlemaster]

Hello world.

So here we are, we are six weeks in to a covid 19 lockdown in Wales 🏴󠁧󠁢󠁷󠁬󠁳󠁿

I’m teetering on the edge of - do I actually prefer this? The world is healing itself and life has slowed down so much. My brain says that I should be alarmed at the stand still that the globe has come to, but my actual personal feelings collide with that because despite the fact that I miss my family members very much. I think we as a family unit are built for this situation. It’s not that different to our life previous to this pandemic. My son is so accustomed to being acrophobic that I guess so are we. My children although disturbed by lack of physical contact with other humans, seem to be actually enjoying the whole “stay home” situation.

I guess I’ve tried to be pretty laid back about the whole thing, as not to cause them anymore stress and worry than is necessary. Now don’t get me wrong, it’s presented huge challenges for me, and my husband. Also the children individually. My eldest, my son who is technically an adult, he is nineteen, has autism and adhd with Tourette’s. He had only recently gone back to full time education after a break from it for other reasons.. all be it traumatic and had been a nightmare for us the last couple of years. He has now been thrown into isolation after he had spent a year trying to stop self isolating. He is driven by routine and had only just begun to return to some kind of normal. This has hit him hard because it confuses all he’s been told about what we humans are supposed to do. Go out and be sociable and try to get out into the world and spend time with others while learning life skills. What a gear change. Without any notice we are to stay at home. This has brought anxiety and stress and anger and confusion. My oldest daughter is a bright and academically driven young lady. With a strong sense of purpose and is generally a happy and kind person. She is on the governments shielded list. So this has had a much bigger impact on her. She’s unable to leave the house even for a walk. I think over the last six weeks the realisation of reality has dawned on her slowly. School return if and when it happens, may not apply to her as it may to her friends. That subject has been an emotional rollercoaster. One day the freedom seems such a blessing, sleeping in, working when she feels like it. The next day the loneliness has crept in like a dark force overnight and she wakes up in a panic about her life having been ruined. Doubled with feelings of hopelessness and a sense of being lost. A huge amount of independent learning is required from her to make progress with academic education at home. As we all know, self motivation is not an easy attribute to acquire. It’s become clear that what drives her ambition to do well is the feedback and response she has from teachers and her peers at school. I obviously play a huge role in this too, although I think it’s an amalgamation of all that keeps her cogs turning.

So a new dawn has broken and we are making steps forward in trying to assemble some sort of routine where she can feel accomplished learning at home. I also have a nine year old daughter. She is bright and funny with a an abundance of mischief rolled in! She has significant needs to meet. She is undiagnosed but I’m convinced she has hyperactivity and a host of sensory issues and is completely demand avoidant. This renders home schooling a mine field. She will not play ball. I usually manage her behaviour by trying to facilitate the tasks I need her to do. Instructions are met with absolute stand off and rebellion. So she’s needed 1:1 attention to actually do any set school homework. That’s on the days I successfully get her to attempt any without a meltdown. I then have my bright nearly five year old daughter, she is a slightly feral wildling with a heart of gold. Happy mostly to swerve in and out of learning and I’m happy with that. She is clever and I have no doubt she will be able to catch up on anything we miss. However missing her new friends from school is taking its toll. She is a little lonely. But with the devices we have we manage by FaceTiming a few friends frequently too keep her spirits high. I wonder how many other parents are feeling like me? This comes with its challenges to face, like trying to get out for a walk and being a afraid to be outside. With others carrying on seemingly as normal whilst we follow the rules to the letter. Struggling to get shopping in the online war for delivery slots. Managing income or severe lack of! Trying to keep some normality and a clean home! Also personal relationships and having no time for ourselves or our partners. Leaving us together around the clock with lack of decent sleep as my children are allergic to that. It’s a huge undertaking to manage and stay sane! Crazy times we say, oh yes, but in my home probably not as topsy turvy as one may expect. I was thinking the other day - in my head I remembered that Disney movie Wall E where the humans on a space station who had fled to space from a broken Earth, were just slumped on this kind of hoverboard seat whilst computers did everything for them. I imagined that if this kind of thing were to happen in the future, that is probably exactly how humans would end up. As currently my kids spend 80% of their time online and gaming. Watching life through a lens. The next step would be letting technology take over our physical activities. Isn’t that a scary thought. I have this terrible way of overthinking everything. In these desperate times we as humans have immediately turned to technology to help instead of life skills, teaching outside and being essentially human. That does fill me with worry. The world I grew up in is gone. This one seems to show that we are destined to rely on technology and others than being self sufficient. It’s made me want to teach my kids how to grow their own food and cook good food from natural ingredients. Taking the time to teach them real life skills. I have decided that is my way forward for us. To learn as much about life in this “Gap year” as possible. To enjoy my children while I have them with me. To teach them to embrace the slowing down of life around us. As they’re programmed to move and learn to fast in today’s world. We all need to learn to live in each day we’re blessed with. For now I’m signing off. With a positive and hopeful mood. Picking out the positives and riding the waves of the negatives. Embracing all the stimming and chaos swirling around me -that is my kids!

Check in soon. Stay safe and enjoy each day x

[futurestrong]

Self Awareness and Self Love: ‘What about me?’

By Dr Kathryn Murray

Education specialist, Author, Public Speaker.

“What about me, it isn't fair I've had enough now I want my share Can't you see I wanna live But you just take more than you give”

The words of Australian singer Shannon Noll resonate with many of us. I remember thinking this when I found myself without a job, broke after having to sell my house, car and more. My life had turned upside down – I found myself in a desperate financial situation because I trusted someone! That trust meant I had to sell everything to pay off debt—and some of the debt wasn’t even mine! So, many, many times, I found the lyrics of this song running through my mind: “…it isn’t fair! I’ve had enough now I want my share!”

We humans commonly default to blaming difficult times on the actions of someone else. We believe that it’s all their fault. I wouldn’t be in this situation if it wasn’t for them! Then we begin to beat ourselves up over what could or should have been. The self-recrimination tape plays: I should have known better. I should never have trusted him. I’m smarter than this.

Does any of this sound familiar?

There seems to be a common pattern that I’ve noticed in myself and in the process that my friends have gone through when “stuff” happens. It’s almost like a grieving process on our journey to a happier time.

In my experience, it went something like this:

1. Disbelief, fear and confusion. The acknowledgement of the situation coupled with the feeling that this is all a nightmare that I will wake up from. Such mixed feeling or disbelief and realisation. I must have misunderstood! How could he have done that? What does this mean for me and my future? How can I support my kids when I can’t support myself? I’m such a failure.

 2. Anger and betrayal.  A few swear words may or may not have been said! That feeling of getting even came over me. I felt determined not to be beaten. In this stage, I tried to remind myself: I am strong and can deal with anything. I have the whole universe working with me. That helped a little but didn’t change the reality.

3. Hurt and tears. I struggled to understand how someone could make such a negative impact on my life when I’m a nice person, and I’d never treat someone like I was being treated. I tried to understand his reasoning for the decisions he made and tried to identify my own part in this. In some ways, I didn’t want to face this and went into denial.  This can’t be happening to me!

4. Victim thoughts. This is where the Shannon Noll song came back on repeat: “It isn’t fair” along with the feelings of shame, foolishness, embarrassment, and disappointment for allowing this to happen. If I’m honest, there was probably a bit of self-destruction going on at this point. I couldn’t see that things would ever be better. I was always going to struggle, be poor, never trust anyone, and I never, ever wanted to date or have a partner again—ever! Poor me. It isn’t fair!

 5. Blaming and shaming. Then I started to throw blame in his direction, allocating him as 90% responsible for where I was in life! I felt as though I’d been taken advantage of and control over my life had been taken from me. Now, I was at the tricky part of my journey. I had to recognise the victim behaviours and the blame mentality that was leading me to think, choose, and make decisions from weakness, not strength. I was living in a deficit mindset, focusing on all that I lacked.

 Realisation of the implications of the situation. Reality and a sense of urgency set in as I watched my financial and emotional state get worse. I started to recognise the type of role model I was being for my children. Ok, get a grip. This is REAL! This is how things are now, so what am I going to do. I need to pick up what I can and move forward. Being angry isn’t helping to get back on my feet. I don’t want to be that angry, bitter, and twisted woman!

6. Knight in shining armour. Because I was in such a down state, I yearned for someone to save me, help me, fix things—it didn’t matter who. Maybe I’ll win some money… someone has to, right? Maybe a friend will sort out the legal issues for me. Subconsciously, I was thinking that if I just ignore this long enough then someone or something will happen and sort it out for me.

 7. Self-empowerment. It seemed to take a very long time to get to this point, but it was actually only months to get to this realisation. Guess what - No one came to rescue me and nothing happened! I didn’t win any money, and all the problems were still there. This realisation created a shift inside me. No one is going to fix my life for me. Time to take back my power! Yes! Then came the turn around that made be grow and get better and better within myself. I became a powerhouse!

I’ve always been spiritual, very self reflective, and self-aware. I realised that I had all the tools within me to deal with this situation and deal with it for the best possible outcome for all concerned. I was reminded of the statistics that our actions are based on 10% of what happens and 90% of how we respond.

I chose to use my brain to work out a solution, even though I was very fearful of how to move forward. I was frozen with fear some days. I had to face some unpleasant tasks, deal with people I’d rather avoid, speak my truth, be assertive, navigate financial and legal issues, and more. None of it was easy or fun. It made me anxious and nervous.

Slowly, though, I began to see just how strong I was. My women friends became my cheerleaders and sounding boards. I began to go to business networking events and met some amazing people who had also dealt with difficulty and risen above it. I began to do more public speaking gigs with different audiences, customising the topics so the messages related to them.

I began to see ME! I realised that I quite liked ME!

While dealing with a rollercoaster of emotions during the past few years, I hadn’t given myself time to enjoy life. I was too busy surviving, or so I thought, stuck in a victim mentality while I waited for someone to rescue me. When I look back, I think that I was really just hiding from the world and avoiding what I knew I must do to clear this situation. I continued to work and no one would have known about the internal struggles I had with myself, trying to deal with things I just didn’t want to, or didn’t think I should have to.

Falling in Love!

So, I decided to date. I was ready. I wanted to go out into the world. I thought that I still had a reasonable figure, still looked ok, had a lot to offer, enjoyed lots of activities, and I really love people and love to laugh. Unexpectedly, I met this amazing person. We went to the movies, out to dinner, camping, on picnics, and this summer we will go snorkelling and spend a lot of time at the beach. Just like I used to before the rollercoaster ride. The person I met is a lot like me. I feel appreciated, loved, wanted, respected, and I look forward to our dates. I don’t feel alone anymore. It’s wonderful. I’ve found love!

Who have I found? Well… I found ME! I’m dating myself!

I’m showering myself with self love and appreciation. I choose to use positive words when I describe myself. I find the best features of me and focus on that, even though I acknowledge all of my features. We all have them, don’t we – the bits we’d rather hide? And it’s what makes us real. I tell myself how smart I am. I share my knowledge and skills openly. I give gratitude every day for the little, wonderful things in my life, like the washing machine that washes my clothes, the candle that smells divine, the dog who is always happy to see me, the sun on my face, the coffee in my cup—the simple things. I give myself time, care, and consideration. But most of all, I give gratitude for me. I love me! I’m so glad that I have met me again because I’m pretty awesome!

That childhood game that we have all heard when plucking flower petals from the stalk—“loves me… loves me not?”—doesn’t apply to me anymore. Because I know I love me. The anger has gone. The thoughts and actions of the victim, blamer, and martyr sometimes surface again, but my love for myself generally keeps them under control.

I have found that my change of energy is drawing people to me. Clients seek me out, people smile at me in the street, people want to be around me—and I want to be around me! One day, I might date someone else, but right now I am very happy with my date, my constant companion—ME!

Does this self-awakening sound like a journey you also want to take? Do you love yourself? Feel free to use my story for your own inspiration. 😊  

Give me a call. I’d love to chat with you.

 If you want to know more, then I’d love to connect with you! Contact me through my website www.futurestrongeducation.com OR join me on our Facebook page – Future Strong Education.

Dr Kathryn Murray has worked with children and families for 35 years as a teacher, researcher and university lecturer. Kathy is the CEO of Future Strong Education supporting parents and children through workshops and speaking engagements.

[maychorian]

Hey, so, i hope you're not bothered or annoyed by this, you can really just ignore me if you are... I just wanted to know if you could tell us about the future of yofa, bc I'm a shitty reader and too obsessed by your fic to sit and wait for the next chapter, although you're so amazing and super fast with the uploads. Like, is mcdaniels gonna play a role, or will tim have breakdowns or fights with the others, or anything else that would be okay to share? I'm really sorry for being like this

Ha, you're not annoying. I'm quite pleased to know that I have readers who are impatient for more, truly. The problem is that I don't really have answers for you, because I don't know. I've talked about this on my blog before, but I am very much a seat-of-the-pants kind of writer, or a gardener. I don't make outlines, because it's not fun for me to write like that. When I write a long, detailed outline, I lose all interest in actually writing the story, because it feels like I've already done it. It becomes work instead of play at that point, and fanfiction is very much my playtime.

I like to plant ideas and watch them grow, or dig the story up from the dirt of the subconscious like a big boulder (Stephen King's analogy for how he writes). One of my favorite writing quotes is about how writing a novel is like driving a car at night--you can only see as far as the headlights, but you can make the whole trip that way. I believe that's from E.L. Doctorow, and I don't know who that is, but I agree with that philosophy.

This has the downside of me having tons of WIPs that will probably never be finished, at least one in every fandom I've written more than a one-shot for. But the upside is that I have a lot of fun writing, and I go through the same emotional rollercoaster as my readers. I often feel compelled to keep writing because I want to know what happens next, just like you do.

That's also why I don't have an update schedule. That would require me to have, like, a backlog of chapters, or at least some idea of what's happening next. I tend to write a chapter over the course of three or four hours, give it a cursory reading for typos, and post it immediately. I usually only figure out what the next chapter is going to be about after cogitating on the last one I wrote for a few days. Right now, I'm thinking that the next chapter will be about Tim's friends visiting him at the manor, but I need to read more Young Justice before I feel comfortable writing Conner, Bart, and Cassie, so it might be a while before that chapter comes out. Or I could realize that something else needs to happen first, as has happened several times over the course of the story.

I do have...vague ideas about what might be up ahead in the future. Someday. Maybe. These ideas might or might not happen, or they might be in a different form by the time I get to them. I'll put them under a read more, just in case anyone wants to avoid even possible spoilers.

Edit: Frigging heck, tumblr won’t save the read more line. Whatever, if you don’t want to see possible spoilers, hit J on your keyboard now.

As for McDaniels, he will be returning to the story, but I'm not sure when. It might be at the end, as some sort of catharsis for Tim, or it might be in the middle as part of a plot complication. For now he's too much of a useful motivation for Tim to have anxiety and Jason to want to protect him, therefore keeping Jason in the picture when he might otherwise take off. The family and their allies will keep looking for him, and it's going to be a major frustration and source of friction that he's so hard to find. I definitely have a picture in my head of Tim going out in the city for the first time since the incident and thinking he sees McDaniels, then having an anxiety attack that Jason or someone else will have to comfort him through. That idea has been in my head since very early in the writing process, but who knows if it will happen.

Tim having breakdowns? Very probable. Fights? Maybe. Eventually he and Dick do need to work out the hurt between them. But Dick has promised to let Tim take the lead on that, so it will have to be on his terms, and I don't know when Tim will be ready for that conversation.

I have ideas about Damian. I'm thinking that Tim is going to be very bored, waiting for his body to heal enough that he can do things again. He can't even exercise until his ribs and knee heal up some, he can't swim with his casts, he can only type with one finger, and that kind of hurts...all he's going to be able to do for a while is sit around and watch TV or listen to Jason read to him, and that's going to get old, fast. So he might take an interest in Damian. Damian is puzzling, and Tim likes to solve puzzles. It remains to be seen whether or not Damian will appreciate the attention. Probably not.

But Damian's feelings are evolving, too. He hasn't been in prolonged contact with Tim...ever. And he has promised to be civil, as well. It's going to force them to find new ways to communicate, new ways to be around each other. Jason might also be helpful for bridging the gap there, since he spent time with the League and will probably understand Damian in a way no one else does.

Also, bored Tim results in Jason taking him on rides on his motorcycle. Great bonding. Tim likes to go fast.

Once the casts come off and the pins comes out, Tim's hands are going to be very weak and shaky. He's going to need a lot of therapy, and it's going to be frustrating and painful. Also: hand massages help. (Dick is also going to keep treating his back, trying to minimize the scarring from the whip marks. Because it really, really sucks for a teenage kid to have whip scars.) So they're all going to take turns massaging Tim's hands when they get cramped, and it's going to turn out that Damian is the best at it. Damian is going to be territorial about this, because it's something tangible he can do that is visibly helping, and as much of a brat as Damian is, he also has the heroic, helpful impulse as well. Once the dust settles and Damian and Tim are more like friends and brothers than they have been in the past, Damian will be just as protective of Tim as everyone else in this story. That's the end goal I have for them.

One thing that will happen relatively soon is Bruce enacting a Big Comfy Couch Protocol, or BCCP for short, in order to be a better dad to his children, all of whom have trauma of varying levels. When one of the kids is having a bad day, or feeling fragile, or suffering nightmares or flashbacks or what have you, or just needs their dad for whatever reason, all they have to do is tell Bruce that they need to activate BCCP, or BCC Protocol. Bruce will nod seriously, then set aside at least an hour in his schedule. And they will go sit together on a big comfy couch in a quiet room, just the two of them. It might involve cuddling, or talking, or just being together, whatever the kid needs. But it'll be just the two of them, no work, no books or movies, no distractions. Because Bruce needs to be very deliberate about connecting with and being there for his kids, and putting a structured protocol in place to make sure that happens is a very Batman thing to do.

Tim will probably drag Jason along for his BCCP time, because of the bodyguard thing. (And because Jason would never do it for himself, and Tim knows he needs it and is not even a tiny bit above manipulation to get his way or help other people.) Eventually they're all gonna like it, though.

And...that's pretty much it, so far. I think about this story a lot, so new ideas pop up and float away in my head all the time, but they're mostly about what's going to happen or might happen in the next chapter. Like, I imagined the conversation between Jason and Bruce going a bunch of different ways. Once I actually sat down and wrote it, though, it turned out differently than anything I'd come up with in my head before.

And that's why I like writing this way. It's always surprising. I let the characters go, and they do things I don't expect ninety percent of the time.

[moonmothmama]

anyway we finally got to the theater to see into the spider verse last night,

and as a grown woman, closer to Peter B. Parker’s age than the average tumblr user, i am just going to go ahead and say it: this is the best Spiderman movie i’ve ever seen. imho, best that’s ever been made. i haven’t been this excited about Spidey since i was a kid. 

the animation was amazing. just beautifully done, so clever... it was truly like being immersed in the comic books i loved growing up. the score & soundtrack gelled so seamlessly with the story that i only consciously thought, ‘shit, the music was awesome’ after i’d walked out of the cinema and was halfway through the parking lot. this film was fun, it was exciting, it was inspiring, it was moving. i almost ruined my eye makeup like half a dozen times. 

this reminded me of what i loved about Spiderman. 

i love Miles, i love Gwen, and i feel Peter B. Parker in my soul. also holy shit Spider-Ham

it’s honestly pretty rare for me in comic books and comic book based media that i’m more interested in the hero than the villain, but this? damn. i’d probably watch a whole movie of just the Spiderfolks hanging out (tbh Spidey was always one of the few superheroes i was truly interested in as a character).

honestly, this is everything that a superhero story should be. a lot of my favorite superhero media tends to be animated because, let’s face it, how much realism do we really want from this genre?? idk maybe i’m in the minority here bc all those live action superhero films seem to do alright*, but if you ask me, i want bright colors and shit, i want to laugh, A LOT, i want hope and optimism and levity balancing out the harrowing high stakes action and the emotional rollercoaster ride.

*- don’t get me wrong, there are some gems; Thor Ragnarok and Black Panther come to mind. Wonder Woman. et cetera. but the vast majority of live action superhero films are forgettable in the end, and kind of blend together into a symphony of grandiose sfx and a muted palette of How Supersuits Would Actually Look In Real Life. that’s my opinion, sorry.

anyway, i can’t wait to own this on bluray so i can watch it a million times: while i draw**, while i work on a new project, on pizza nights with my man where we talk about nerd shit for hours, and not least with my wee niece when she’s a little older. 

**- i taught myself to draw as a girl by copying my favorite panels in comic books. i walked outta that theater in the mood to Do Art. after i post this, i’m cracking open my sketchbook.

in closing, i would just like to say that this is the most in character shit i’ve ever seen, this is the essence of Peter Parker right here:

[scottstiles]

clarz

replied to your post

“hi divvy! i know you are MAD right now, so don't answer this until you...”

thanks so much for answering this! tbh i love the fact that you're religious and that you clearly love it so much. i went to a very catholic college, so that kind of thoughtful and deep connection with religion and tradition is important to me, and i love seeing it in other people. it's an important part of who you are! and part of the reason i asked is because you mentioned disliking the performance thing in your initial post, and i really connect with that. when i was growing up, the church i went to was pretty plain and traditional (despite very liberal politics and interpretations of scripture.) most of the other people i knew who went to church were evangelical and/or southern baptist, and i always disliked that their churches had like, full rock bands at services, and poppy contemporary melodies to "hymns." i understand that they're trying to make church fun, but it always made me suspicious and felt disingenuous.                  i don't think religious services should be a chore, certainly, but i also don't think that they should be "fun" in that way. that's not the purpose of religion. i don't think religion should become more like entertainment or performance, because it's supposed to be a space that's completely different from the rest of the world. it makes it feel less holy to me. so i definitely relate to how you feel there. also, how did you end up feeling about the service in the moment? (and i'd love to hear about the ma'apilim sometime)                                            

SORRY I DIDN’T ANSWER THESE BEFORE CUZ I REALLY WANTED TO BUT PROCRASTINATION IS MY MIDDLE NAME (jk it’s tzviya but try saying that ten times fast. or just one time. slow.)

HERE WE GO:

1- i love finding other people who feel close to their religion, no matter what it is. i remember in teacher’s college i just naturally gravitated to the only catholic girls in my classes i guess simply because i enjoyed talking to them? we weren’t there learning to teach religion, but i’m always fascinated by what other people feel about it. i’ve found myself thinking on more than one occasion that i feel more comfortable with people who have that side to themselves, like me, rather than people who don’t interact/think about/believe in any of that kinda stuff. (im being purposefully vague because it’s a huge generalization, but nonetheless true-ish for me, i often find myself sharing much more common ground with palestinian muslims, for example, than a french canadian montrealer). i guess especially because religion is not something i consider a defining trait of mine, and im just in constant evolution with respect to that. judaism is so much more than just a belief in god or a practice of the rituals and commandments.

2- how fascinating to find someone in my age bracket who feels the same way about music in prayer. my problem has always been that i LOVE music, and its so personal and emotional that i DO see it fitting seamlessly with prayer but... it’s the setting that has always bothered me. it just never felt right for me in a synagogue. like you said, it’s just a different space. i don’t know about church and ‘making it fun’ but i definitely can imagine plenty of religions use music to draw in otherwise disinterested people who find prayer “boring” or pointless. music is awesome! i just wish people could feel the music in their soul as a separate entity from external music, like from an instrument. idk i guess i just really love singing XD and i wish it wasn’t always a performance or a competition of voices, because i think prayer should be personal. even if it’s between a community, its still voices connecting to each other. i’m reminded of Hannah’s prayer, in the book of Samuel (the prophet- his mother), she’s at the temple on one of the annual pilgrimages with her family and she’s depressed because she doesn’t have any children and her husband’s other wife just keeps popping out babies left and right. so she goes to be alone somewhere in the temple, and she’s weeping and praying to god for a child. Eli, the high priest, comes in and sees her shaking and moving her lips real fast so he goes, “hey, you shouldn’t be drinking in here” and she’s like “im not drunk, i’m praying”. so that’s the first place we read about a person actually praying, and not out loud. this was like a huge revelation to the priest cuz clearly he’d never seen that before, and now the tradition has become to pray like hannah. (as an aside, if u ever see the propaganda videos made by the nazis, they use footage of synagogues to show how loony tunes those jews are with their muttering and their rocking back and forth). cuz like, prayer is supposed to be out loud? ahaha anyway i forgot where i was going with this but... oh ya, okay, so prayer didn’t really exist (as we know it, in judaism- and therefore christianity/islam/western monotheism) until that point- it was all about the sacrifices. and the temple ritual was replete with music and instruments like the shofar, timbrels, lutes, blabla other ancient instruments. but since then, we’ve been meant to use our voices alone. so says tradition, i guess.

3- so i did go to services on yom kippur (kol nidre) but not at my shul. i went with my sister to the chabad house near my parents, and it was....not great. but it was compounded by a lot of factors- i got a wicked cold the day or two before, so my nose was running a marathon and i was coughing like a 90yr old with emphysema. i got my period that morning so i was on an extra steep emotional rollercoaster that i just somehow could barely control. so we sat on the other side of the mechitzah (the separation barrier between men and women), the rabbi/cantor stood at the head in the middle so we could all see, and we all prayed out loud, no hush on the women’s side or anything (pretty typical from what i remember of camp/school prayer services). but of course the tunes were not quite what i’m used to, and there was a bit of annoying stuff that just irks me as a perfectionist (like they use a lot of yiddish pronunciation of the hebrew words, injecting a bunch of oy oy oys and ahoyhoyhoys in random places, in fact i leaned over to my sister at one point and was like ‘did ned flanders write this nigun (tune)?’), but altogether i guess it was better than watching an orchestra perform the prayer? idk it was pretty bad, on an emotional level, but not in hindsight. im very good at ruining things for myself through sheer stubbornness. i must have embarrassed my sister just by existing next to her, poor girl, she really wanted me to like it. i’m glad it’s over, and hopefully by next year ill be back in nyc or some other city so i wont have to worry about it.

4- MA’APILIM!!!!! okay so this was my absolute favoritest thing as a kid and i can’t wait to describe it to you. one night in camp, every summer, the counselors and cits would wake us up at like 3am by barging into our cabins chanting (screaming, really) “MA’APILIM, MA’APILIM BEH-MASSAD, BEH-MASSAD. MATCHIL HALAYLA MATCHIL HALAYLA BEH-MASSAD, BEH-MASSAD.” which translates to : “ma’apilim at massad (the name of my camp) starts tonight.” i’m singing it in my head as i type XD. so they’d be screaming and we’d be tumbling bleary eyed out of bed to grab our socks and sweatshirts and run over to the flagpole (keep in mind i was 8 when i first experienced this, and we’ve had kids as young as 6 at camp). once we had all gathered in line with our bunkmates, the counselors and cits put on a little “skit”.

basically they acted like they were nazis and jews, and did a little skit of some basic bad holocaust stuff (don’t ask me to remember the exact details we’re talkin at least 20 years since i last did this) to scare the pants off of us. kids would always cry already at this point from the shouting. we’d all kinda follow into this “play” (sorry idk what else to call it), and marched over to the gym where we watched a fake hanging on the stage. they literally. hanged someone. in front of us. a fake noose, of course, duh, i remember my counselor showing it to me, but traumatizing to say the least (i still remember the name of the counselor they “hanged”- not sure this ever happened more than once but ill never forget it).

then we’d all hustle down to the waterfront, again “playing” the role of holocaust victims/survivors after these little “skits” had sort of put us in the headspace, and we play along, imagining we’d just experienced these things and were now running from it. it was terrifying and exhilarating as a small child, and an even more unbelievably emotional thrill ride as i got older and became pseudo-obsessed with holocaust lit and facts in general in my life (it never did go away but everything changes with age). ANYWAYS so down at the waterfront we got a speech from another counselor playing a member of the haganah (the main jewish defense force in palestine leading up to independence, which ben gurion later turned into the IDF). sidebar for a little history: in the 40s the yishuv (jewish agency) and the haganah began a mission called aliyah bet, “the second immigration,” an illegal smuggling operation to bring refugees from the holocaust into palestine under the noses of the british, since almost all countries in the world had barred their doors to jewish immigration from europe (a high level member of the canadian government is famously recorded as having answered, when asked how many jews they should let in, that “none is too many”). volunteer seamen from the US and canada and other countries crossed the ocean on cargo ships hastily refurbished to fit hundreds of people, picking up thousands of refugees in europe to smuggle them onto the beaches of haifa and tel aviv. paul newman has a lovely half nekid scene of this in the movie Exodus when he jumps off the ship in the middle of the night and swims up onto the beach- one of my fave movies ever and pretty much the story of aliyah bet (albeit with tremendous hollywood embellishment and only mild accuracy). these refugees who became illegal immigrants (caught or not) were known as “ma’apilim”- the root of the word is to “climb” or to “rise up”, and is found in the bible referring to the israelites who were still eager to enter the land even after the negative report of the spies.

okay so basically this was the idea. we were “playing” these illegal immigrants who had just escaped the holocaust, and were now facing another threat in the form of the british who were doing their best to keep them out of palestine. k so we’re down at the waterfront. all the kids get divided into small groups of about 10 or so, with one or two counselors at the helm to be our “haganah operatives” and guides to the end. what end, you say? so the camp is spread out into 2 areas, the main camp where the younger kids cabins were, and the dining hall and the gym and the waterfront, etc. then there’s a road in the middle of the camp, and beyond it a hill leading up to the senior cabins and some sports fields at the top. the goal was for each group to make it through camp to the top of the hill without getting caught by the “british,” played by the cits who were roaming around camp.

idk if i have to describe camp further for people who don’t know the concept, but basically we’re all in the middle of the damn woods with nothing around us for miles except the lake and the camps on the other side of it or down the road. ill never forget my first ma’apilim (tbh most of my description is from then, which is why its so fuzzy cuz these memories are 20+ years old), i was so lucky to get the tripper as our group leader (the tripper is the “nature dude” in camp, the survivalist ;). he immediately led us underneath the gym (which of course was just insane to my small mind... UNDER the gym??) to plan our route and give us instructions. we organized a roll call and signals, we practiced walking in a single file line silently and dropping to the ground on his signal. we smeared dirt on our faces for camo in the woods. it was *mason voice* intense. k so then as you can guess, we snuck our way up the hill through the woods. sometimes we’d encounter other groups, once in awhile i remember getting caught by a cit, and they’d take all or some of us to the “jail” on the basketball court” where we’d have to wait for a jailbreak (idk how that worked but it did, i remember it happening but not in any detail). a famous prison break that DID happen was at acre prison in 1947 when the irgun (another paramilitary jewish group) blew up the prison and broke out 28 of their members and 214 arab prisoners. if im not mistaken they briefly refer to it in exodus by recreating a prison break. exciting times. ANYWAYS fuck im such a tangential bitch sorry XD, by the end of the night we’d all make it to the top- “jerusalem”- and we’d have hot chocolate and say morning prayers as the sun rose over the hill. 

i feel like my description is a little lacking, but hopefully u get the basic picture. ma’apilim wasn;t even the heaviest part of camp- that was tisha b’av- the fast day when we commemorate the destruction of the temple and every other traumatic destructive event the jewish people have gone thru. that night they’d prepare the camp with candles in sand filled paper bags lining all the paths. after dinner we’d walk with our bunks on the path and watch little skits in different parts of camp- scenes from these moments in jewish history, like the holocaust, pogroms in europe, the spanish inquisition, terror attacks in israel, etc. after walking the path we’d all convene back at the waterfront, where they’d set out a small reconstructed “temple” on a makeshift raft in the lake, and a banner on the beach that said “yizkor”- remember. then they’d light both on fire and we’d sit and watch them burn while singing appropriately somber songs like eli eli, by hannah senesz. after that we’d go back to the gym and lie on the floor in small groups huddled around candles. we’d listen as some people chanted the book of eicha (lamentations), and would slowly fall asleep (depending on our age, of course). anyone that was still up after that was over got to stay in the gym if they wanted to watch exodus- a 4 hour movie. the next day we’d fast all day (only those who wanted- 13 y/o +) and treated it basically like shabbat- no regular activities.

MAN did i get some wild shit imprinted on me from camp!! but i don’t regret one second. i only wish other people could have the experience i did, but i dont even know if they still do that there. they probably do, but this old lady has no excuses to step foot in a summer camp anymore :(

as a completely coincidental aside and not at all as a self promo, idk if u knew this but i’ve been working on a documentary for over a year now and this whole thing is a major part of the plot. i interviewed a lady who was a passenger on the exodus, and about 4 or 5 people who were volunteers from montreal/new york/new jersey/toronto that picked up and smuggled the refugees. the stories are incredible. i just hope the rest of the world will get to hear it from their mouths one day. all we need is 100k to finish the film XD

[the-maxrecords-blog]

where the wild things went

Vice: Hello Max. This is your first film in five years. What on earth have you been doing with your time?

Max: Just living, you know? Living, going to school, getting done with school.

Vice: Did you ever worry, "Hang on, what if I've forgotten how to act"?

Max: I didn't really think about it until the first day or two shooting then I was like, "What the fuck am I doing here?". For the first couple of days the learning curve was pretty steep again.

Vice: How does one even go about preparing to play a sociopath? Presumably it wasn't method acting.

Max: I kind of feel like there is no such thing as acting that isn't method to some degree because if you're not actually experiencing it, then you're a fucking liar. I was talking with Billy [O'Brien - director] about it and - I forget the word that he keeps using - but it's an intuitive process. You just kind of feel it out, you know? I was pretty miserable while we were shooting, just because you're in a super dark brain space all day. Especially living in a place like Minnesota where we were shooting, six days a week. You don't get the opportunity to turn it off, you know? And that's great as far as the actual creative process goes but it sucks as far as trying to be a person.

Vice: Have you ever done a psychopath test?

Max: I don't think so.

Vice: Would you like to do one?

Max: Yeah, let's do it! Is it legit or is it some Facebook nonsense?

Vice: Oh, Facebook nonsense probably.

Max: So you're not licensed?

Vice: We're not unlicensed.

Max: I'm pretty sure it's an either-or thing.

Vice: So there are eight statements. You either agree or disagree. First one: "You rarely catch me making any plans. I'm far too spontaneous".

Max: Yeah, absolutely.

Vice: "If I got a better offer, I wouldn't mind cancelling longstanding plans".

Max: Yeah, that's probably true.

Vice: "It would be fun to drive fast cars, ride rollercoasters or go skydiving".

Max: I've been skydiving. Fast cars are fun. I don't get the appeal of rollercoasters. I guess I haven't really done a true roller coaster. It feels artificial.

Vice: Shall we disagree?

Max: No, let's agree.

Vice: Alright. "I think it's okay to step over other people to achieve my ambitions".

Max: I don't know. I don't think you necessarily need to it. I can't think of many situations that I've been in where that's necessary, where there isn't some other course of action you could take. Let's disagree.

Vice: Do you have an ambition?

Max: In the broader context of my life, I just want to gain skills. Recently I was doing an outdoor programme back in the States through this thing called NOLS [National Outdoor Leadership School], so I was off doing that for a couple of months. Getting better at being outdoors and learning how the natural world works. And I love playing music so getting better at that. Just learning to be a better, more competent person. Trying to not be a dick.

Vice: It's a good motto. Okay: "I'm very persuasive and getting people to get what I want is a real talent of mine".

Max: Agree! I think I'm pretty good at that. I've been manipulating my parents for years.

Vice: The perks of being a child star... What was that whole experience like?

Max: Really awful! Especially for children, the film world is just terrible. You can't grow up in that world and still have a connection to reality. At least if you're, like, really in it. Especially the poor folks out there who have stage parents. It's just so sheltered. The creative aspect of acting is one of the more amazing things that I've gotten to experience but everything outside of that is pretty bizarre.

Vice: Was it enough to make you think you might not want to do it anymore?

Max: I think, probably, yeah. Especially once Where the Wild Things Are came out. And that was my first real acting role too. Being thrown in the deep end as a young, pretty vulnerable person. And then you have an experience like that and there's all this stigma around it, back in the "real world". I went to the same school since I was in second grade, through most of high school, and I knew all these kids and they were my friends before and after but there was, coming back, this weird stigma, these weird assumptions that if you're in a film, you're an asshole and you don't exist in a grounded real world way.

Vice: What are your memories of working on that film?

Max: It was really important to Spike that the set was conducive to a child. So we had a million kids on set. All the crew was kind of invited to bring their families. And as a way to kind of understand the vibe that Spike wanted to cultivate, there was always music on set. The Smiths, Cemetery Gates and Big Mouth Strikes Again, all those songs. I have really wonderful nine-year-old memories of romping around on set and that music playing.

Vice: How does one move past an experience like that and into the world of adult acting?

Max: I think you just grow up and learn to be a person. I think one of the biggest learning curves for me, as a result of those experiences and then applying that to the real world, was that it took me a long time to learn to take a compliment. From twelve through to however old, you just kind of shut down. There's this assumption of an agenda. But you grow up and you learn to be a person and you temper the experiences of working in the film world with what people are actually like and you balance that.

Vice: Is there one thing you know now that you wish you knew then?

Max: No, I don't think so. I am the person I am as a result of a lot of those experiences and I love the people that I met and especially those people that I have experiences with. It is what it is. Can't change the past!

Vice: Okay: "My ability to make quick decisions means that I would suit a dangerous job".

Max: [Takes long time to decide answer] I dunno... The idea of being a smokejumper appeals to me.

Vice: What's a smokejumper?

Max: It's a term for the folks in the US that are forest firefighters and jump out of airplanes. That appeals to me.

Vice: What do you think you'd be doing if you weren't acting?

Max: Working in outdoor education probably. Working with kids or being in the outdoors. Or both.

Vice: Do you have a desire to keep acting?

Max: Yeah. I mean, I like doing it and I think creatively it's really cool and the people you get the opportunities to work with are often really wonderful people. It allows me to do other things in my own life. My parents have kind of helped me gain this perspective of it, but I think it's best for me to view it as a hobby. I like acting but I don't think it's healthy to do films back to back.

Vice: What was it about this script?

Max: I love Billy and I love Nick Ryan, the producer. I love Robbie Ryan, our cinematographer and I think, aesthetically, just the, Midwest middle America vibe, that's really cool. And the humour of the script. It's genuine and it has real emotion embedded in it but it's funny! That Fargo humour really appeals to me.

Vice: Do you have a favourite movie?

Max: It changes periodically, of course. Birdman has been one of my favourite films ever. It came out a couple of years ago and I've watched it half a dozen times. The Cook, the Thief, His Wife & Her Lover. I rewatched that pretty recently and remembered how good it was. People keep talking to me about Donnie Darko in relation to this film and I like that one quite a bit.

Vice:"When others are crumbling under pressure, I'm usually the one with a cool head". Agree or disagree?

Max: Yes. I think so.

Vice: When was was the last time you lost your cool?

Max: I've been working on that skill and I think I'm getting pretty good at it. It's been awhile since I've been genuinely, deeply upset about something. One of my favourite things in the world is this scar right here [shows us a fairly impressive scar on his knuckle]. I got it punching walls. It was like the perfect teenage angst motivation. The first time, I was really upset in my house because I had read something about the use of American drone warfare and just how upsetting it was and how a bunch of civilians had just been murdered somewhere in the world. And then the second time was me being upsetting at my parents.

Vice: Alright, last one: "I'm rarely to blame for things going wrong, it's usually the fault of the people around me".

Max: I mean, yeah. But I'll disagree.

Vice: Okay, let's see your results… You're 61% psychopath! "Though your conscience is in the right place, you have a pragmatic streak and generally aren't afraid to do your own dirty work".

Max: I'll take that.

Vice: There's more! "You're no shrinking violet but you're no daredevil either. You generally have a little trouble seeing things from other people's perspectives, but at the same time you're no pushover. Everything in moderation, including moderation, might sum up your approach to life".

Max: I like that. I'll take it!

Credits: Vice.com

Source: https://i-d.vice.com/en_gb/topic/max-records

[lookiemyonlinediary]

who

I was born on sunny midday to infamous high school lovers. My first two names were given to me by my godmother and the bible. I am this couple’s first daughter and was raised in a small village in our hometown.

Having parents younger than most kids of my age, I grew up joining beauty pageants because my parents had the time, effort and energy for it. Now, I do not want to think of myself as an untalented child as that is very degrading, but in every talent portion, all I could offer was modeling (excuse yourself, Kendall Jenner). But you know, it was cool. So, whatever.

Although it was not a bad thing and has not been an insecurity (because why would it be?) of mine, strutting on the runway and looking pretty are not the sole elements a young girl should possess and have knowledge of. *hair flip* I recollect memories of being stuck in traffic because of the rain while we were on our way for a VTR of a shampoo commercial. Yes, that is right. My parents also tried to test out my acting skills. I became their little Barbie doll for quite some time. I have fond memories of waking up late at night seeing my mother and father make costume and props for me. It is still one of my beloved memories as a child. The various pieces of cloth, sequins, and glitters stashed in our living room were always a pleasant view for me because those were the days that my parents were still together.

I was seven-years-old and it was New Year's Eve when my father and I had "the talk." We were in the dining area of my grandparent's house on my mother's side; it was while the whole family was having their Media Noche at the terrace, it was while I was hearing the sound of fireworks and merry laughter of people outside the house. I sat there on his lap not knowing what to say. It was a mere blank stare at a distant.

Unfortunately, my younger brother who arrived three years later after I was born was still not enough to keep their relationship together. I felt broken and shattered but there was nothing that I could do as I do not hold the lives of my parents. They are individuals as I. No one owns anyone. I do not own them nor do they own me. (I remember a similar line was spoken in the movie Out of Africa, 1986, I just cannot find an excerpt of it for the love of God)

At the age of seven, I obliged myself to constantly keep an open mind and endure the fact that I am unlike every other kid that I knew at that moment. It took some time and although I am not entirely sure how that seven-year-old girl managed it so well, I am just glad that she did.

"What do you want to be when you grow up?" the principal of our school asked us on one of our daily discussions with her every week. She visits us in our classroom making sure we are all learning from our teachers. She has been really a second mother to me considering I have been studying in her school since I was in the nursery. "An astronaut!" I cheerfully answered. I heard it echo through the sea of voices saying, "I want to be a doctor!" A nurse!" "A teacher!" She noticed my answer and started to become concerned.

I kind of get it. I mean, a young girl in her first grade in a third-world country living in a small town without even having the technology that we have now, when did she even discover the word astronaut? "Your principal talked to me and said that you wanted to be an astronaut when you grow up. Why?" my mother asked. "It is because I want to travel through space!" And believe it or not but that is the truth. I have always been fascinated by clouds, skies, stars, and planets. I admire her paying attention to every single one of us and having awareness with our problems at home but no, I was not going through a psychological effect from my parent's separation. I did not want to travel through space because I wanted to be alone (although, maybe now I do.) *cue tears*

The revelation is, I was flustered to say that my actual aspiration in life is to be a cashier lady (right?!) as all of the other kids were speaking up about big careers so, you know? I knew I just had to level up my answer. I cannot be the poorest aspiring bitch in the class.

I started my first schooling years in that specific school located in our village. Alongside having medals for academics, I also have awards at home for winning declamation contests and beauty pageants. I was hailed as the first Queen of Hearts of our school. Everything was great for my little life until the day came that I had to transfer to a wholly different school.

It was when I was about to enter the fourth grade in elementary that I had to shift because my school only happen to provide education for until third grade. My parents decided it was time for me to grow out of my comfort zone so they put me in a school that is a tad far away from home. I remember being timid and discouraged because I grew up in a school where the floor had tiles, the rooms had air-conditioners, and the bathrooms had light bulbs. I was not a little princess anymore. Everything good has vanished since then. It was the start of a new chapter of my life. My fairytale story ended right there because it is where I first encountered bullies.

The school I transferred to was small and although it attempted to acquire some charming and genuinely admirable teachers, it was filled with the horrors of students who do not bathe regularly and seem to be more than happy to use offensive words on an everyday basis. No, I was not transferred to a public school. My parents were still paying a heavy amount of money for that Christian school and Lord is my witness with how disgusted I was.

I was not only bullied (and punched, too) by a boy who has never seen a toothbrush in his entire existence on Earth but also by an old teacher who says "pee-cha pay" instead of "pizza pie" and gets deranged every single time for no reason at all. She was the first teacher to shame me in class for my body and also the first person who screamed cuss words at us at the top of her lungs. Aside from having a mother who is at work most of the time, a father who resides in Manila and no one to talk to about my problems at school, I started writing in my diary and pouring all my emotions in it. One day, my mom read it and she became furious that she threw it at me because she cannot accept the reality that her baby girl is starting to bear the brutality of the world and no mother was found during those instants. Since then I have not written any poem nor essay about my sentiments because I am still fearful that people will look at me uncomfortably once they see me from a different perspective. It was at that phase of my life that I had no outlet for my emotions and all I could think of was how to escape from my self.

It was hell not only at home but also at school. After a year, I learned to settle as my focus was moved onto a different matter. I had crushes, boys had crushes on me, boys from the upper grade had crushes on me and then the prettiest girl in the classroom decided to make me her best friend as she was starting to get insecure with the attention I was getting. She unquestionably failed to make me her shadow as I gracefully stood there with medals delivering our graduation speech. I was a salutatorian with a new best friend, a keen suitor and an amazing friendship with our adviser.

If my elementary years were a rollercoaster ride, my high school life can be characterized as a painfully awkward bad romantic-comedy film yet with satire humor. It was a huge insulting mess.

I started my first year in high school at an academy. Just like any other freshmen, I was excited to finally live up to my Glee and High School Musical fantasies. Sadly for me, I was thirteen and those fictional characters were not. I cannot get pregnant with a football player and ask people what time is it. I joined the English club and continued with my artistry in acting. I also wrote poems and composed songs because my father granted me a guitar as a graduation gift.

Just as my life was going well, our school principal abruptly decided to mix students with better grades among the "rotten tomatoes." Also, these are not my own words, that is how he called them. So then as fate decided it, I am going to spend my year in a class with one of those rotten tomatoes a.k.a. my old best friend from elementary. I tried to have a decent friendship with her since I am by nature a good person but then I do not know how her mother raised her as she cold-heartedly betrayed me, flirted with my crush, made the girl who despised me her new best friend and no, it does not end there, steal my brand new watch. I am still amazed at all the time she had. I was one of those students with inherent bad luck that got moved to their section. It is where all the evil students lurk. Luckily for me, I still had the best time of my life as I tried to tutor some of them at the same time associate my studies with boys and new found friends from that section. As regretful as it may sound, I guess I enjoyed their company way too much and by the end of the year, I found myself blending in by becoming a rotten tomato as well.

Onto my second year in high school, my parents decided to move me again because I was not on the honorable mention. I spent my sophomore year in a college school. It was 2012 and this is when my life turned upside down. This is when I became one of those white high school girls born from chick flicks in the 20th century that I have grown to watch on cable. I was thrilled to eventually enter a school that is larger than life and farther from home. I finally became a stereotype.

I became free; too free that I started cutting classes just to hang out with friends. Too free that I adequately used my phone inside the classroom and had to get my grandmother to school every time I get in trouble. Too free that I had extreme fights because of nasty boys. I represented our section for Miss Earth and embarrassed myself by not knowing the lyrics nor the chords to the song I was singing (although I won Miss Photogenic.) I was not a rebel nor a cool kid. I just hated everyone and had frequent arguments with my mother. I met a lot of sexually active fourteen-year-olds. I had major counseling from our adviser.  I had sexual and paranormal experiences at school and for the first time in my life, I received a failing grade. I was 72 in Algebra and I fainted when I told my mother about the bad news.

On my junior year, it was time for me to repent. I knew what I have done and now they are transferring me to a school that is embarrassingly smaller than my friend's house. #Shook is an understatement for what I have felt. Again, I was moved from one section to another. This time I was from the rotten tomatoes. Our History teacher felt pity toward her three new pretty students that she decided to adopt us onto her star section. It was another year of adjustment and God knew how mentally and physically tired I was. The only good thing that happened that year was my consistency of a considerable grade and so my parents made me stay there for the senior year.

My last two years in high school went like a harsh breeze. I fought with someone (as usual.) I was asked to prom. I had a teacher aiming to me pull me down on his level (until this day, I still have no idea why he hates me for wearing my hair in a bun.) I was perfecting quizzes again and I managed to have a steady high grade. I graduated peacefully with no zygote in my womb and it was time for me to pack my bags and finally move to the city with my father.

As someone who grew up in a city within a province, the real city overwhelmed me. Catcallers are scattered everywhere. Smoke-belching vehicles and smokers do not take consideration of your life. Backpacks are not backpacks anymore since it is placed on your chest to avoid thieves and perverts. And a jeepney can lull its passengers to sleep because of this infamous traffic in a specific avenue.

I was ready to enter either this college or that university except I have my father who wants me to enter the university he went to. And to state the obvious, I failed. I took another entrance exam for this other university only because my father said it is the second-best of what he wanted and also that he will buy me a car. No, he did not. And no, it was not the second-best.

My whole life my parents tried to protect me and made sure I am safe and comfortable so I was provided with school service. You do not get any of that once you are in a university.

My first two semesters in our college I Iearned how to drink, party and go home at six in the morning while writing love letters to my crush who is an activist including becoming a consistent Dean's Lister. The next two semesters, I learned that the subjects are not getting easier, and the professors are only getting feistier. I fully shut down and resided in a dark place on my mind for the whole year. I was at that stage that I did not know who I was or who I wanted to be. I was scared. I was forcing myself to figure out who I am before I turn eighteen because I am frightened to go older each year and not see the life I envisioned for myself. I joined a mass organization to have a new light in my life. A musical play that I starred in also freed me from my mind during that phase. Life is not getting easier and I wish I could still simply say that I want to be an astronaut so that I could travel through space. Now, I am currently in my third year of college. I recently just finished an extensive workshop on theater arts and I am more inclined now to know the lives of the masses and the struggles of being a woman in a patriarchal society.

Cruel people can prowl anywhere. Bad memories are inevitable. I welcome sadness with a big hug and accept defeat with honor. And although I am only dancing to melancholia, the Universe has still chosen this sperm with an X chromosome to see what beautiful madness the world is. I ought to seize it.

[cashmierathoughts]

FEAR.

I’ve always been afraid of the dark. When I was younger, it was because I thought the murderous monsters from all the horror films I watched were hiding under my bed or lurking in my closet. (Hence why I still sleep with my closet door closed) But as I got older, I feared darkness for other reasons. The darkness that lives in people's hearts as they wish ill things on one another, plot on your demise, envy you, etc. Being in the dark about situations that you can not control; the unknown. Living in darkness. Even getting to a point where I allow someone to bring that darkness out of me; choosing darkness after being completely fed up or losing faith in humanity. 

I’ve always been afraid of heights. When I was younger, it was because I was afraid that I’d fall off the top bunk and bust my ass. As I got older, my anxiety about heights stemmed from those desperate thoughts about me not reaching certain heights and expectations that I set for myself. I worry that I might not make it to the top, or that when I do get there, it’ll just be me. Or even worse; I’ll find out that it wasn’t really what it seemed, a facade. 

I've always been weary of superstitions. Growing up, my grandmother was superstitious - had to be that creole running through her veins.  I wouldn't say that I was necessarily a believer, but I listened. When I was eight years old, l watched a movie called Eve’s Bayou. It added to my curiosity about whether or not granny knew what she was talking about. After watching that, I was more careful about not stepping on any cracks because I didn’t want to “break my mama’s back” and I never threw my hair away in the garbage, I always flushed it, like granny said. But, as I got older, I stepped on cracks and let my hair fall wherever it landed..and guess what? My mother was fine and so was I. However, every now and again, I gather my dead hair from my brushes and flush it and I never stop worrying about my mother’s health, so I consciously skip as many cracks as I can when I find myself walking down the street. 

I’ve always been terrified of rollercoasters. If the rollercoaster didn't have a friendly cartoonish or animated picture on the ride, I wouldn’t get on it. But as I got older, I stopped being afraid and could ride any rollercoaster at any park. Sure, I was still scared as hell, but I did it anyway. It’s these emotional rollercoasters that cause me discontentment; life’s rollercoasters that yank me into states of mind that I don’t always enjoy. One moment, you're up and screaming out of excitement, and the next you're spiraling down and crying, hoping and praying that at the end, you’ll be alright. 

I’ve always been conscious about germs. Having your first kiss can be a scary thing. I used to worry about whether or not I’d “do it right”. Or if his breath would stink. Oh my gosh, what if his lips were ashy? Would he try to stick his tongue down my throat and if he did, what would I do? So many reservations that I held off for as long as I could. But, as I got older, I found love, lost love, and dreaded that last kiss. The worst part about it is that you never really know that the last time you kissed someone, would be the LAST TIME. I wouldn't say that I’m afraid of a “last kiss” in the sense that I dreaded my first kiss; but it can definitely be a scary thing to image that you care so much for a person and one day, it won’t matter at all. They won't matter. 

I’ve always been afraid of getting lost. When I was a kid, I used to catch the school bus by myself to elementary school. Well, one time, I got off on the wrong stop and got lost on my way home. It was horrific, to say the least. To this day, I ask a million questions when I have to catch a bus, train, flight, spaceship, whatever. I make sure that I know where I’m headed. But what I fear most about seeking a destination is less about getting lost on the way. It’s more about not having a destination. “What’s the end goal?”, I ask myself. “Where will I end up when it’s all said and done? What’s the plan? What’s my purpose?”

They say the greatest illusion in life is FEAR. As I was listing out my fears in preparation to write this piece, I felt silly. Silly because I don’t know if anyone will be able to relate. Hell, I don’t know if anyone will ever read this. Furthermore, I felt silly because I’ve been holding on to some of these fears far too long and it took me actually writing them down to realize how imperative it is for me to let them go. I no longer want to be afraid of the dark, because I walk in the light. There’s no need to be afraid of heights or falling if I choose to take a leap of faith. I’ve accepted that change is a part of life and with change comes adaptation. Life is a rollercoaster and instead of dreading each and every bump, twist, and turn along the way, I choose to enjoy the ride while it lasts. 

[yourjesterus-blog]

THE GRAND CLICHE

Clichés such a typical term isn’t it? Used everywhere to define the most gross implication of typical behavior that has been done too much throughout the ages . It was always weird when I thought of this because the very definition of a cliché had defined every aspect of my life. And the biggest cliché of them all I guess came in the very last but as always we start from the first.

My name as given to me with ought my consent like most things was Wassemullah. I was a simple kid raised by a loving mother but (my first greatest cliché) not so loving father. It was around them that I had grown up and seen what no child but every one of my kind sees, you see my naïve friend my father was a drunk. And not those sad drunks that plague the streets he was a thriller drunk who as many of you would put it did it for the lulls. And it was during his thriller phases that he would grab something near him and beat my mom who (to my utter amaze) always took it with ought question. That put it to the question why? Well my mom was the loving type , and she as she put it many times would do anything for me. As did by her time and time again she was the one who put the food on the table and got most of the money to feed both her and him.

I was 3 when it happened. It happened during his thriller tantrums that I couldn’t take it anymore; I came between him and my mother. It was the first time I was hit, and it hurt more than I thought, the singing of my checks made m cry but I didn’t move. And then he said the words I will never forgot “you will die just like me, do you know why? Because you are no better than me and you never will be”. It was then the inevitable fight came, me weakly trying to defend mom while the slaps and the belt smacks came, I don’t remember much of it , all I remember is a lot of darkness a lot of people in uniforms screaming and the smell of hospitals.

Then came one of the happiest times of my life. Dad was no longer around and mom was all to me now and she would sing bed time stories to me and hug me to sleep telling me one thing every night “I love you Wassem”. Mom never told me where the money came from for the food or the clothes she would just say “Wassem just eat love don’t worry yourself over this “and I being a moron never did.

I was 5 when mom got enough to send me to school. And what a school it was being the one all the rich snobs got to go to , the first day went as good as most things in my life . The teacher being condescending thought I was great at Urdu literature which as it turned out wasn’t, I made an enemy simply by walking into him (Ahmed), a friend simply by sharing my food (Ali) and a love interest simply by looking (Sana).however as the day had gone on I had realized that I did not belong here that these people were better than me in every way and as later proved I was too right well at least I got to see Sana every day.

 Love as our teacher had taught is a powerful catalyst for a whole armada of unwanted and painful emotions , and for once he was true .It was during the time I was 14 that my mom had become sick , it was not the flu or anything else but something thing else apparently it had turned out to be STD. It was an emotion I had never felt before and could not explain , it was like someone had just shut the light on my head and I could do nothing….but at least on the bright side I knew where the money had come from.

Then came a very unexplainable time. I had taken a ride on an emotional rollercoaster that went for a long while. Life as I had known it just changed, I had to take responsibility , get a job and just try to help my family survive however school was not helping .the classes came during my job hours ,Ahmed who I had mentioned before had now become “active” finding me any and everywhere and would take every cent I had saved up for my mom, Ali was trying to stay away from me to save himself from the walking target and the most painfully I had still not talked to Sana the only one who could make it all better who could save me form all this , save me from myself. I tried to be the optimist, to see the silver lining but it could not stop the inevitability of everything, it could not stop the second greatest cliché of my life.

Emptiness was all I could feel as I lifted her , complete emptiness no grief , no anger nothing just plain as day emptiness . I could remember every good moment we spent together , the song filled nights the hug filled days the little games we made up that only we could share that were only ours . As they laid her in the ground I felt the first emotion I had felt all day loneliness, I was alone standing there watching her being buried by two people I had never known, even he had not come but I had no idea why he would though I had wished Ali would have come but he had an assignment, the one that had been going on for the last three months.

I had fallen in the hole with my mother, in the nothingness. I could see her face..There were no tears on it neither any grief she was just looking at me as we walked together into the abyss……..I’m sad to think it’s always a dream. Everything else went on as if nothing really maters the teachers taught the students talked and yet I didn’t listen….i was lost forever and the abyss was now my friend. It was then that Ahmed finally broke me….. and all it took was a single sentence “hey look here sits the son of a whore”……I saw only red after that and that was all I could remember from that moment other then the elimination letter handed to me……..karma is a bitch isn’t it?.

One of the greatest things taught to us humans other then breathing and eating is the importance of allies or friend and how they help you in time of need. Maybe it was because of this or because of my basic human instinct for comfort that I had decided to go to Ahmed’s house. On the way my mind hung on to this last shred of hope that maybe Ahmed would make this better that he would help. Walking up the foyer to the door I had the slightest glimmer of a smile for the first time in months. The door was slightly ajar and there were shoes were just lying there, there was no car parked so I moved in , what I saw next sealed what happened next , it was inevitable now  like everything had happened ….i moved away like a shadow with ought disturbing them and leaving the image of my only love Sana in the arms of my last hope Ahmed .

Life is not something that you choose it is something you just witness like watching a movie with a bad remote. You are given a name before you can speak a religion before you can pray and parents before you can learn to love. you become an infant they tell you the world is your sandbox ad everything you want can happen and unicorns can exsist.you grow into a teenager they tell you that the world Is not you sandbox yet a river they you merely float along . You grow a little older they explain to you the greatest thing the humans created the gold. They tell you to spend the rest of your life to earn it and you with ought to question spending most of your life chasing the untouchable dream of untold riches. That is when you find her , the one who would change everything the one who would love you forever but reality being a fickle teaches you she only gave you more mouths to feed. You grow old…they have no use for you now; you cannot earn or work anymore so they leave you in your prison of untold riches. It is sad that they did not know I still could find my way to the land of the unicorns I once loved and explored.

And on that thought is where I leave you my friend, a thought that was simply yours.To break through their chains….to walk the land a true free man , However I could not do it, they broke me my friend……they explored my only true emotion….the unpredictability for love. So I leave the battle to you my friend….find your own life, find true love, find true friendship because I never could. But I ask you of one thing…when you do this just remember me as a friend you once lost because no one else will .As a last word I thank you for reading my final thoughts or as you my friend through time would put it my suicide letter……..(my final greatest cliché )