#we have like nine million sales backed up because of that this is our first sale in a long time

[spooky-z]

Leaving the Mask Behind

Warning:

This story contains language, OOC, Asian bamfs and moral ambiguity.

Maribat by @ozmav​

9.3K

Translations for this story:

妹妹 (mèi mei) – young sister

姉貴 (aneki) – older sister

anh - elder brother / em – younger brother

混蛋 (hún dàn) – bastard

やりまん (yariman) – slu*

女武芸者 (onna-bugeisha) – female martial artist

瓢虫 (piáo chóng) – ladybug

竜 (ryū) – dragon

con khỉ - monkey

大人 (dàrén) - used for an official or a person in authority

meaning "chief" or "leader" -  رئیس (raʾīs)

さま(sama) – respectful to higher rank person

悪 霊(akuryoo) – demon / biblical type

▫▪▪

"I don't believe that... That... Ugh!" Marinette screamed angrily at the walls of her room.

It had been almost twenty minutes since she had been walking back and forth grunting in anger and cursing Lila Rossi's existence. Marinette couldn't believe the audacity of that freaking Italian! She really did that.

“妹妹(mèi mei)! What happened this time?” Kagami invaded the nervous girl's room, without bothering to knock on the hatch door, after all, Kagami Tsurugi was part of the family.

"She did it again, 姉 貴(aneki)!" Marinette replied, throwing a paper ball into Kagami's hands. “That 混蛋(hún dàn)! If I get my hands on that Italian, I'll kill her!”

Ignoring Marinette's outbreak in the background, Kagami carefully stretched the paper, trying not to tear it. She thought it was just another bad joke that Lila had made again; like the one from the previous week, where she wrote a letter all in Italian offending Marinette and lying to the class saying it was a letter praising the girl.

Of course, not even in a million years, she expected to find the "ULTIMATE WARRIOR" in thick letters, painted in red and gold on top of the paper. Much less the words “SELECTED” and the names of Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Kagami Tsurugi and Lê Chiến Kim.

Kagami had to read and reread what was written on the paper because she was too stunned by what she was seeing. She couldn't believe that Lila had the courage to enroll them in a combat competition program.

Even more because it was no secret that the program was the extreme of the extreme. Kagami still remembered a competitor who had to be forcibly removed from the competition, for having left three teams - nine people - disabled beyond measure; one of the victims had almost lost his leg movements because he was hit hard by the guy's blade.

For God's sake! Competitors had to sign documents exempting the program from any liability in the event of a fatality.

And Lila signed them up for it. Even though she knew everything, she signed them up because she wanted to see them suffer.

“That や り ま ん(yariman)!” Kagami spat, crumpling the paper again and throwing it to the floor in anger. "Let me get my 短刀(tantō) and we can cut her throat without having to get our hands dirty with her rotten blood."

Marinette sighed in devastation.

"I knew that defending Chloe from Lila's lies would have consequences, but that?" She pointed to the paper ball on the floor. "This is sadism."

Kagami sat on the chaise, pulling the girl with her. She was still simmering with anger, but remembered that she was the oldest there, by a year, but older. So Kagami had to show maturity and comfort her younger sister.

"What she’s doing- what did she did... This is no longer about revenge, mèi mei." Kagami put her arm around the girl's shoulders in comfort. “She's doing it all just to hurt you. Even if you didn't defend Chloe, Lila would find another way to attack you.”

Marinette dropped her head on Kagami's shoulder, tired of it. Tired of Lila Rossi.

“If it were just me, that's would be fine. I would accept it because it wouldn't make a difference to me, but it involved you and anh.”

Kagami laughed. The truth and certainty in Marinette's words made her happy. Knowing that she had a person beside her like Marinette - and Kim - was a gift that she would never be able to pay her parents.

"But at least it's me and em." She answered. "Have you ever thought if she put Chloe and that girl- Rose?"

Marinette snorted, imagining that. "That would have been a colossal disaster."

The two sat on the chaise in a comfortable silence. It was normal, when the two were without Kim, for silence to be part of their day. Both Kagami and Marinette expressed their feelings better through actions.

They were both sitting for a few minutes when the sound of doors slamming and heavy footsteps running downstairs caught their attention. Both recognizing the rhino that was tap dancing around Marinette's house.

It wasn't long before a very smiling Kim's head appeared in the open hatch.

He paced the room in a familiar comfort. Kim practically lived there.

"Mèi mei, aneki!" He said excitedly. "Why do you two looks like death?"

Kagami pointed the paper ball to the floor. "Read."

The boy frowned at Kagami's tone. She hardly spoke like that when it was just the three of them, keeping her cold behavior only to people outside the family.

He picked up the crumpled paper and stretched it without care, his eyes skimming over the written words.

Kim looked up at them. His expression was unreadable.

"You who signed us up, mèi mei?"

Marinette snorted insulted, and pulled her head away from Kagami's shoulder.

“Of course not, anh. This is the work of our dear and beloved, Lila Rossi."

'Hm' came from him. The eyes going back to the paper, analytical. Probably thinking about something that Marinette and Kagami hadn't thought of yet, as they were both too angry for that.

Many believed that Kim was a silly boy. Obviously, he made a point of acting like the jester with his classmates and in a way, he was, but no one but the family knew about the real Kim.

The smart, cold, strategist and merciless Kim. Of the three, Kim was the most likely to participate in a carnage and still make it look like a trip to the mall.

"I think we should accept this opportunity, 灌(Guàn)." He said clinical.

Kagami shuddered in surprise at the boy's words. Marinette beside the girl, had the same reaction. Of the three there, Kim was the most heavily camouflaged, so for him to suggest that meant...

"... You don't intend to pretend anymore." Marinette said Kagami's thoughts aloud.

The boy sighed, looking older and more tired. The paper was still firm in his hand.

"Technically, we are not pretending, just... not being completely sincere." He pointed. "But yes. That's exactly what I'm saying.”

"But Kim-Giáp, you know that as soon as we are 'sincere', things will change." Kagami said, hope growing in her heart. She hated having to put on a mask to leave home and interact with people. "There will be no turning back."

“There is nothing else for us here. Guàn has been suffering to remain civilized in order not to attract the attention of her parents, I am tired of having to make a fool of myself for those idiots and you, Kagami, also do not like having to put on the ‘girl without friends’ mask, to keep the peace." He sat down heavily next to Marinette. "Mars, if you agree, I want to do this."

Marinette stared at the floor, lost in thought.

Kim was right, of course. None of the three could take it until they were eighteen or finished the lycée to get rid of their classmates, Bustier or Lila. But Marinette also feared, because of the three, she was the person who would have the most changes in life.

After all, the agreement was that as soon as she decided to become Cheng's head, the engagement- her engagement, would be understood as accepted. And maybe Marinette was still a little afraid to leave the comfort, because she didn't know who her promised husband was.

But then she thought about the hell that Dupont was being and how just changing schools would not solve the problems of the three. They were suffocating being something they were not.

She lifted her head and looked at the boy.

"So, you better say goodbye to that blond hair." And smiled. Kagami practically vibrated with joy beside her.

Kim rolled his eyes before shoving her with his shoulder.

"At least I won't be forced to see those awful pig tails anymore."

"HEY!"

"He's right."

“Aneki!”

Now they just needed to finish enrolling for the program, let families know about the change in plans and what the expected consequences are.

They only had a month to settle everything and compete in the program.

▫▪▪

For a month the trio did not appear in Dupont.

In the first week, Lila was easily the first to notice the lack of a certain girl in the classroom, internally congratulating herself for breaking another one.

Next were Max and Alix, believing that Kim was sick. They went to the boy's house only to come across a “property for sale” sign. Needless to say, they came back to school confused and sad.

The third person to notice was surprisingly, Chloe Bourgeois. The girl only realized that Dupain-Cheng and Lê Chiến were missing when Lila started spreading lies about her and Marinette was not there to act as guardian of morals.

Nino and Sabrina noticed at the same time, but neither of them paid much attention because they knew the duo and knew that sporadically, Marinette and Kim (and Kagami) would disappear for a while and then return as if nothing had happened.

The rest of the class noticed at the same time as Bustier. One Wednesday, in the middle of the third week absent, the teacher entered the classroom with heavy eyes and hunched shoulders. The word "transferred" and the names "Marinette, Kim" were all they got before Alix became a berserker.

Alya didn't even blink at the announcement. Glad that Lila was safe now that her mother managed to get rid of her daughter's bullies.

Adrien failed to maintain the perfect model expression. When he arrived at the Dupain-Cheng bakery, he was greeted with employees never seen before. No sign of Marinette or her parents.

He also realized that Kagami was strangely absent from fencing classes and that the calls went directly to voicemail. The blood ran cold in his veins.

▫▪▪

Meanwhile, on the other side of the world, on a strangely sunny Monday in Gotham; a letter with a thick envelope and sealed with a ladybug coat of arms arrived at Wayne Mansion.

They were all together for breakfast when Alfred, the butler, handed the red, black wax-sealed envelope to Damian Wayne, Bruce Wayne's youngest son.

His father, his brothers and his almost brothers, curious about the unusual situation.

When he opened the letter and realized its contents, a deformed smile took over the face that until then, was always frowning.

Everyone was able to hear the ‘Finally’ coming from the boy, before he disappeared upstairs without exchanging a word with the family.

“Damian Al Ghul Wayne, we would like to announce that Cheng Guàn will finally be taking over the Cheng head next month. She accepted her role as head of the family and will be announcing through her participation in Ultimate Warrior, accompanied by the heads of Tsurugi and Lê.

We would like to challenge you one last time, as a demonstration that Cheng Guàn is more than able to walk and fight alongside you.

Best regards,

Cheng Hua.”

Not very traditional, but it would do.

As he read the program rules, the only thought in the boy's mind was that he and his brothers were going to have a lot of fun ending up with anyone who wasn't even minimally decent.

▫▪▪

Marinette was just finishing tying the laces on her boot when Kim fully armored came in with the phone to the ear.

While he was finishing talking to what was probably his ‘war assistant’ - if the Vietnamese indicated anything - she watched her brother well, now that he wasn’t trying to hide under the jester mask.

Giáp had dyed his hair back to its natural color, removing the blonde once and for all. He preferred not to cut his hair completely, leaving the sides and nape shorter than the top, combed with gel to the side. Like a businessman.

His tactical military suit was identical to that of Kagami and Guàn, only further reinforced in places of impact such as fists and knees. The face had full protection to prevent accidents, only the eyes uncovered, but only because he had taken off his glasses since they were not yet in the field.

He would fight only with fists at first.

Kagami was sitting on the floor with her legs crossed, meditating. Her tactical suit was a little more mixed with her kendo suit, since she was wearing her armor over her clothes. The 胴(dō) on her chest, 小 手(kote) on her wrists, 垂 れ(tare) on her waist, and the 面(men) lying comfortably on the floor beside her, along with her twin 刀(katana) with red blades and the 十 文字 槍(jūmonji yari) that she had won for her sixteenth birthday last year.

There was also a cloth mask covering her nose and mouth, and sports glasses over her eyes to keep out dust.

Guàn wore the totally pure military tactical suit. A little more pulled into an anti-riot suit, but not as bulky, because she didn't want to impair her mobility and her mask was a totally black ballistic mask.

On the table in the tiny waiting room - a tent - there were two types of rifles: A Colt M4 and an Arctic Warfare; two Glock and a Revolver with tranquilizer ammunition ready to reload. The five were airsoft guns. In addition to two training Cold Steel. The armament just for her.

It was as soon as Giáp hung up the phone and Kagami opened her eyes, that a staff appeared at the door of their tent warning that the competition would start in five minutes, saying it was time to finish getting ready because they would soon come to pick them up.

The three looked at each other with equally bloody smiles.

▫▪▪

ULTIMATE WARRIOR is a war-type competition program.

With each team consisting of three (3) competitors, they will have to fight against each group in order to redeem the One (1) Million Euro prize. That is, the team must defeat all other teams in order to redeem the prize. Only one team leaves UW undefeated.

The competition takes place once a year and is hosted in ghost towns around the world and recorded live for TV channels. It has no minimum duration, with the maximum reached being 5h.

UW is a very prestigious event; participants are usually military or combatants of some kind.

The minimum age for participation is sixteen (16) and the maximum is thirty (30).

Non-lethal weapons are allowed.

Competitors are eliminated by voluntary withdrawal, if they are knocked out or by serious injuries.

Any type of aggression that results in fatalities or near fatalities is completely prohibited. The punishment for breaking the rule is jail.

▫▪▪

As the UW was something really important worldwide, almost like the Olympics or the World Cup, the day was given as a holiday by all countries in the world; then everyone would sit in front of their televisions and watch the competition cheering for their favorite or those from their country.

In Paris, the city hall set up a screen under the Eiffel Tower and the population came with their families to watch with the rest of the Parisians.

That was no different that year. Mlle. Bustier’s class all together, some accompanied by their parents or siblings and others - like Lila - alone or with their bodyguards - like Adrien -.

They were sitting on the lawn having silly conversations when Mylène's voice caught everyone's attention.

“... Isn't that Adrien's friend? Kagami? I guess." The blonde raised his head to look around, but couldn't find the girl.

"I don't see anyone like her." He replied confused.

"Oh." Rose sighed. “On the screen. It's Kim.”

And everyone turned to see that it was actually Kim, Kagami and Marinette on the screen, being announced as Team B.

"What..." Alix sighed in disbelief.

"... And in team B, we have Lê Chiến Giáp, only 16 years old." The camera focused on who Kim should be - they were not sure, as the person was completely camouflaged in tactical clothing and a mask, and the hair did not appear to be blond -, standing with a broad chest and quite intimidating.

Half the screen was divided, one that filmed Kim and the other with his info and a 3x4 photo of his face.

"He will be the fists of team B. The boy knows how to throw a punch, Will!" One of the narrators continued.

"Yeah, Smith! But have you seen his teammate, Tsurugi Kagami?" The camera started to focus on Kagami, dressed as a Japanese warrior, but also totally unrecognizable. There were two swords stuck in her back - camera showing details of the armor - and in her hand, a trident-like spear. "She is 17 years old!"

Like Kim, there was a 3x4 photo of her with the written info.

“The girl is a real 女 武 芸 者(onna-bugeisha)!” The first narrator, Will, said excitedly.

"But let's not forget about 16-year-old Cheng Guàn!" The footage changed to the third person, fully dressed as a military soldier, a plain black mask that left only her blue eyes uncovered. She, Guàn, had two rifles attached to her back, a Glock attached to each thigh, a Revolver just below the Glock on her right thigh. In addition to a black knife attached to each boot.

The 3x4 photo of Marinette Dupain-Cheng appearing on the screen with the info.

"She'll be the team's sniper!" Smith announced. "This year's contestants..." And they started talking about the rest of the participants, but Mlle. Bustier’s class stopped paying attention.

They were unresponsive.

Or at least almost everyone.

"Wow, I didn't know they were going to participate." Nino commented surprised, but not shocked like the rest of the class. "Did you know that, Chloe?"

The blonde - who for some reason had accompanied them, even without being invited - looked at the boy shaking her head. "No. I was not informed that they would participate. Only that they wouldn't be available for a while.” She sighed. “Did you hear anything, ‘Brina?”

Sabrina looked up from the tablet, shrugging. "Only they'll be back in a week." She replied softly. "Mom has been getting busier and busier, but she told me that soon they would tell us."

Nino nodded, seeming to understand what Sabrina meant and Chloe leaned back in the beach chair she had taken. The conversation dying there.

"Since when are you close to Marinette or Kim?" Ivan asked confused. He never saw any of them minimally close to each other.

"And the ice queen." Alya commented acidly, eyes narrowed on Nino.

"Ah, our parents work for them." Sabrina replied disinterestedly.

"We've known each other since diapers, dude." Nino shook his head.

"What- and why I never heard about it before?” Alix asked with their disregard. "I'm Kim's best friend and he never told me about it."

"Maybe because he didn't want to tell." Chloe murmured, not loud enough for Alix to hear, but loud enough for Adrien and Lila, who were closest to her besides Sabrina and Nino.

Adrien winced at the sharp edge of the words. He didn't like that at all.

Lila, on the other hand, was excited to watch Marinette suffer live for the whole world, but was also a little irritated by the attention she was receiving.

"But I don't understand..." She sighed in delight; they were once again focused on her. “Marinette's parents are just bakers, Kagami's mother is just a fencer and Kim's... What do Kim's parents do? I don't think I've met them before.” She frowned.

She had never seen or heard of Kim's parents.

"Now that you mention it, I also never saw Kim's parents." Max said shocked. "Every time I went to his house, he was alone."

Alya looked back at the atypical trio. Chloe, Nino and Sabrina.

"You are going to tell us right now what is happening!"

Chloe raised her eyebrow, not liking Alya's demanding tone. "Or what, Césaire?"

Alya opened her mouth to reply, but Adrien was faster.

"Nino?"

“My bad, dude. It is not something I am allowed to tell.” The boy shrugged guiltily.

"Yet." Sabrina said out of the blue and everyone looked at the girl waiting for her to elaborate, but she kept quiet.

"-Oh, it's starting." Rose pointed to the screen and the students soon calmed down, their eyes avid on the screen.

▫▪▪

"... 竜(ryū) there are two heading your way." Guàn said in the communicator, her voice muffled by the ballistic mask.

The trained eyes on the street below her, providing cover for Kagami and Giáp to eliminate the other competitors.

"Understood." She heard Kagami respond through the headset. “Con khỉ goes on the right and I on the left. Do any of them have weapons, 瓢虫(piáo chóng)?”

She watched Giáp hide against the stone walls of the hut across the street and Kagami disappear into the hut a little further from where she and Giáp were.

“One unarmed and one with knives. I'm trying to find the third, but no sign of him." She breathed heavily. “Con khỉ the target is fast approaching. Ryū, target at ninety degrees.”

Guàn didn't need to see to know that both Giáp and Kagami had ambushed their targets, but even so, she didn't take her eyes off them.

It was always beautiful to see how gracefully Kagami handled the jūmonji yari or how Giáp did not hesitate to reach the pressure points on the enemy's body, never using too much brute force, only skill and knowledge.

That was why she was almost a little too late to notice the presence in the ruin in which she was hiding. But it was only almost.

The competitor - Team E, she read on the stripe attached to his arm, not much older than her -, didn't have time to react. She was flexible and had the knowledge. Even though he was a combatant, he was no match for her at full capacity.

Guàn was quick to take the knife out of her boot and throw it at him as a distraction. The sniper rifle forgotten in the previous post. She ran while he fumbled with the gun in his hands; she didn't think twice about kicking the back of his knee and when he fell heavily on the clay floor, she didn't hesitate to shoot twice with the Glock.

One dart in the thigh and one in the arm. Where protection was less effective, since the Kevlar did not cover and was just the fabric of the suit covering.

"The third has been neutralized." She said as she put the Glock back in her thigh holster.

"The second too." Giáp replied a little breathlessly. That mask was probably restricting his breathing. Even more because he was a heavy fighter.

"The first one gave up." Kagami said with a mocking tone. The girl hated it when she started to cheer up in a fight and then the person just gave up, for not being able to keep up with her.

“Calm down, Ryū. There are still three- “A siren sounded; the team alert cleared.

"Team E, Team A, Team C eliminated." The announcer's voice loud enough for all the competitors in the Craco ruin - Italy - to be able to hear. “We will have a ten-minute break for competitors to hydrate and replenish their energy.”

"What were you going to say?" Kagami snorted.

It hadn't even been an hour of combat and three teams had already been eliminated. They had taken team E and team A.

Team A was a bunch of filthy elitist pigs, acting contemptuously with them as if they were Asian, were worth less or were easy to beat.

Guàn loved to break the jaw of the leader of the three, Kagami may have stabbed the third a little more violently than recommended and Giáp may have broken the tibia of the second. But it wasn’t like they got a reprimand for it.

Perhaps the producers have turned a blind eye to the rules, only to see the three white supremacists having their asses delivered by three Asian teenagers.

"Okay, we have two to eliminate yet."

She expected them to be a little more challenging.

▫▪▪

In Paris, the class was at different levels of breathing difficulties, but of all, Lila was the most affected.

She didn't know that Dupain-Cheng could be so scary.

"How can she move like this, if she can barely walk straight without falling or hitting something?!" Alya seemed personally offended by Marinette's recent acquired skill.

Chloe snorted mocking the girl.

"Are you serious, Césaire?" She crossed her arms, without patience. "You said you were the girl's best friend for almost a year and you don't know that she can knock someone out with her eyes closed and her hands tied?!"

Alya opened her mouth, but nothing came out in her defense.

"Chloe!" Nino scolded the blonde and Alya felt her heart heat up for being defended by the boy. "It is not their fault that they are ignorant about Guàn's life." And Alya's heart ached with the harsh words.

"They can't talk about it, remember Chlo?" Sabrina asked sweetly, trying to calm Chloe.

The blonde turned her face in a tantrum. There was a pout there.

"I didn't know that Kim knew how to fight." Nathaniel said softly, almost without a voice.

“There is a lot that you don't know about Kim. Or Marinette.” Sabrina said enigmatically.

Adrien was starting to think that they didn't really know anything about the two classmates and the only three who did for some reason wouldn't open their mouth at all.

But he had faith that when the two returned, everything would finally come together. And he would have a very serious conversation with Kagami about hiding things from him.

▫▪▪

Damian was growing more and more impatient. Until that moment he had not yet found his fiancée.

Sure, he had a brief glimpse of her and the other two heads, but all three were armored to the top and he couldn't even make out what color her eyes were. Only that her hair was long and so dark that when the sunlight hit, the color changed to a deep blue.

He, Dick and Jason had eliminated two teams - C and D - with only team B missing. Her team. But somehow, they couldn't find the team anywhere in the ruins of Craco. It was as if they had evaporated with the air.

"I spotted them Demon!" Jason's voice came over the communicator. “They are at the highest point on the e-ek hill! Shit I almost got hit by a dart.”

Damian didn't think twice about leaving his post and running the streets of Craco, closer and closer to the top. On the way, he spotted Dick fighting the man of Team B.

He found Jason crouched behind a rock that was supposed to be the wall of one of the houses, trying not to be hit by the tranquilizer projectiles.

"I'm going up!" He signaled to Jason. "Cover me."

He ran to the entrance to the tower, barely avoiding the projectiles being fired at him. Jason right behind him and Dick alone fighting the other guy.

Damian barely stepped on the top floor when he had to block the yari's blade with his katana. He was fighting the Team B swordswoman and Jason going head to head with Cheng Guàn, Damian's fiancée. The two of them in a shooting contest.

▫▪▪

The Parisian population was quiet. All barely breathing with their eyes glued to the screen. The class was not much different from them. Even Nino, Chloe and Sabrina watched the final confrontation with glazed eyes.

They watched as both Marinette and the other competitor- Jason ran out of ammunition and weapons, without thinking twice about throwing themselves into a fist fight.

They held their breath when it looked like Marinette was finally running out of stamina, Jason taking more and more of the girl's escape routes. Until-

"Piáo chóng!" Kagami screamed, distracting Jason momentarily, while throwing the trident towards Marinette before blocking the sword of the other competitor- Damian, with her own sword.

The girl was not at all surprised by the call and took the trident effortlessly, looking used to the movement. And before Jason could hit her, Marinette threw herself out the window.

"IS SHE CRAZY?!" Surprisingly it was Juleka who screamed. The shy girl was paler than normal.

But no one looked away from the screen. Everyone watching the way Marinette stuck the trident in the clay wall of the house, stopping her fall and the way she landed on the shoulders of Team F’s third competitor-Dick, strangling him with her thighs.

"DO YOU SURRENDER?!" She shouted at him, squeezing his neck even tighter.

"..." Dick was still standing, slapping his hands on her legs and trying to dislodge the girl off him, but the guy had no chance.

As soon as he managed to loosen her grip and breathe properly, three projectiles hit one on the butt, and the other two on each thigh. He fell hard to the ground, Marinette barely having time to jump out of the man. Kim standing behind them with Marinette's revolver.

“Thanks, Con khỉ-“ She didn't finish speaking before running away from Dick's body, Jason arriving like a bull. "GIÁP!"

Kim threw the revolver at Marinette and she fired at the enemy without even thinking. They blinked in time to see five projectiles lodged in his neck before Jason passed out. Avoiding Dick's body for just a few inches.

"Wow, they were a lot more trained than the others." Marinette commented to Kim, neither of them looking worried about Kagami, who was still fighting Damian inside the house.

The split screen showing Kagami's fight and the street where Kim and Marinette were.

“Well, he managed to hit me five times. That means something.” Kim replied relaxed.

"Oh really? This is surprising.” Marinette whistled, impressed.

There was an awkward silence.

"Shall we help aneki?"

“Nah. Let her have fun.”

And the two sat on the floor, watching the group of rescuers on the show take Jason and Dick away.

"I wish I had brought a book." Kim sighed in disappointment and soon Kagami and Damian's fight took over the entire screen.

What the hell?!

▫▪▪

Tsurugi and Wayne were walking in circles, analyzing the level of danger and skill.

Kagami knew who Damian was, she knew this was Guàn's fiancé, because it was her idea to send the letter inviting him to participate in the competition. Because she wanted to make sure he was able to accompany Guàn when she demanded.

Of course, Kagami knew that it was impossible for Damian to be completely useless because he was the son of Bruce Wayne and Talia Al Ghul, grandson of Ra’s Al Ghul; but she wanted to personally test how good he was, because she would accept nothing but the best for Guàn.

Then she convinced Sabine Cheng-Cheng Hua to send the letter.

"I'm glad you accepted our invitation, 悪 霊(akuryoo)." She said, the tip of the katana towards the ground.

Damian tilted his head, intrigued by the way he was called.

It was not popular knowledge the way his family called him.

"I'm grateful." He nods. "It’s always good to test my skills with experienced people."

"Let's finish this."

"D'accord."

▫▪▪

Damian had given up.

Damian Al Ghul Wayne had given up.

After Tsurugi declared defeat, Damian lowered the katana and said 'I give up' directly to the camera, leaving the clay house with her.

That was a shock to Damian's family. But Alfred's discreet smile said that giving up had a much deeper reason than just giving up a fight.

▫▪▪

Guàn and Giáp got off the ground as soon as they saw movements coming from the house where Kagami was fighting with the other competitor.

Guàn had the revolver hidden behind her back, cautious. Until the fireworks went off in the sky.

"Team B is the winner of Ultimate Warrior!" The announcer shouted excitedly. “For the first time since Ultimate Warrior debuted, a group of teenagers won the contest! What a day my friends, what a day!”

The announcer was speaking something, the program staff showing up from where they were hiding, Giáp was snorting with pride as he took off his mask and glasses, but Guàn was more focused on the teenager who accompanied Kagami.

In the middle of the dispute she barely had time to analyze him while running away from his teammate's punches, but at that moment, without imminent danger, Guàn's eyes were solely focused on him.

And he was not much different from her.

Guàn barely had time to pull the ballistic mask off her face before he was standing inches from her, forcing her to lift her chin so she could look him in the eye.

"It’s a pleasure to finally be able to meet my fiancée." The boy took her hand to his mouth, placing a kiss on her knuckles without caring about the glove. "You were magnificent against my brother." He said as he lowered her hand.

Guàn raised an eyebrow, a charming smile taking over her expression.

“Oh? I am flattered." She replied, the words sliding sweet as honey. "Cheng Guàn, head of the Cheng." Inclining her head, as an informal bow, Guàn didn’t look away from him for a second.

"Damian Al Ghul Wayne, current Demon’s head."

Demon's head, huh.

She liked the sound of that.

▫▪▪

Adrien was feeling strange.

Marinette's team had won and so she was fraternizing with the enemy in a very non-Marinette way.

"It’s a pleasure to finally be able to meet my fiancée.” And he kissed her hand, his greedy, sticky eyes on the girl.

They still had communicators, so everyone was able to hear what they were talking about.

"Fiancée? Did I hear that right?” Max murmured.

"Oh, so this is him." Chloe said disinterestedly.

"He still looks like a serial killer." Nino said, an amused tone in his voice.

"Cheng Guàn, head of the Cheng." Marinette's voice cut through the confused murmurs.

Cheng Guàn? Cheng's head? What the hell was Marinette talking about?!

Classmates seemed increasingly lost.

"Damian Al Ghul Wayne, current Demon’s head." The boy with Marinette replied.

... they were really confused.

And Adrien strangely homicidal.

▫▪▪

After receiving the check of one million-euro, Guàn, Kagami and Giáp were in the car driven by Bai, the driver of the Cheng family.

There was a car in the front with Cheng's bodyguards and another in the back with Tsurugi and Lê's.

After her fiancé introduced themselves, they talked for a while without tactical microphones, being formally introduced to his brothers.

The warning had been given.

Cheng's head was engaged to the demon's head and anyone who tried anything against either of them should expect retaliation from Tsurugi, Lê and Wayne. In addition of Al Ghul.

▫▪▪

It had been a week.

A week since Ultimate Warrior, since Kagami, Marinette and Kim won the competition exhibiting skills that no one knew they had.

The situation in the classroom was a little more tense than usual.

Alya having argued with Nino because he refused to say anything about what happened and ended up breaking up with the boy, thinking he would reconsider for loving her, but he hadn't even blinked twice before leaving the girl talking to herself.

Since then, he sat in the back with Chloe and Sabrina. The three of them sitting comfortably in one seat.

Adrien had tried to extract something from Chloe, using the excuse of best friend wanting to spend time together; but the girl was not fooled by the trick, dismissing Adrien as soon as the boy opened his mouth to speak.

Lila was strangely sulky and silent. Even Alya was unable to cheer up the Italian. She was constantly having to answer mysterious phone calls that only made her more and more furious. Nobody knew how to bring it up, fearing that she would fight with them for meddling in her private affairs, so they just kept their distance.

It was on a Wednesday, exactly a month and fifteen days after they disappeared from Paris, that the class got their first glimpse of Kim, inside a luxury car accompanied by three men twice as big as him. But it had been too quick for them to be sure it was really the boy, so in the end they ignored what they saw.

But it was on Friday, a month and seventeen days, that they actually saw Marinette coming out of the Dupain-Cheng bakery.

Alya didn't think twice before running up to her, dragging the entire class along - not that they didn't want to go -. She wanted answers and she was going to get it!

"Marinette Dupain-Cheng, you're going to tell me right now what's going on-" She shouted at first, not caring how much attention she was drawing from the people around her, but the words died in her mouth. For the first time noticing what Marinette was wearing.

The girl was wearing something that Alya had only seen in the Chinese dramas that Marinette watched with her when they were still friends. She remembers the name, hanfu, when the girl explained the different types.

The top was pearly white, the neckline crossed in a 'y' shape. The pleated skirt was a light blue with embroidery of white roses on the hem, the length reaching above the foot - maxi, she remembered Marinette saying -. At the waist, the white lace of the skirt wrapped around the waistband, holding the skirt in place; the same embroidery on the hem of the skirt was also on the ends of the white fabric. Above the hanfu, a thin transparent peach tunic.

On her feet, white kitten heels and the hair, was loose reaching the middle of her back.

She looked ethereal.

"Oh, Alya." The girl sighed as if she had barely recognized Alya. "How are you?" She asks.

Besides clothing, Marinette's way of talking had changed abruptly. There was a delicacy, but also a certain kind of power. As if she were a very important person who had cleared five minutes of her busy schedule to exchange a few words with her classmates.

"Wwhy are you dressed like that, Marinette?" Rose stammered.

It wasn't a strange outfit, not really. It was very beautiful and sophisticated, but very different from what Marinette used to wear normally. Not even the familiar pig tails were in sight.

"Family business." Marinette replied without going into details.

Suddenly, a man wearing a black suit stepped out of the BMW parked on the sidewalk and approached Marinette nimbly. Not sparing even a glance at the group of teenagers around her.

“Guàn 大人(dàrén) I was informed that Al Ghul dàrén is on his way.” The man said to the girl. He put a finger to his ear, where everyone noticed a discreet phone - like those American movies about secret agents -. "Lê and Tsurugi dàrén are accompanying him."

“Thank you, Bai. I will wait inside.” She smiled softly at the man who, after a complete bow, went back inside the black BMW.

"Who is he? And why is he calling you that strange way?” Alix asked, annoyed. She was sure the man was talking about Kim.

Marinette looked back at the class, focusing on Alix.

"This is Cheng Bai, my driver and bodyguard." She responded politely. "I wish I could stay and talk, but I really have to get in." Marinette pointed to the Dupain-Cheng bakery.

The girl didn't wait for anyone to answer, before turning around so she could enter the bakery. She was totally insensitive to her classmates.

"Dàrén!" They recognized Sabrina's voice before they even saw her leaving the bakery with Chloe and Nino right behind. “I have updates from- oh! Hey guys, what are you doing here?” She changed the subject when she noticed the class frozen on the sidewalk.

"... We saw Marinette." Juleka replied blandly. She was feeling super uncomfortable with that situation.

"Oh, I understand." The redhead waved mechanically, looking just as uncomfortable.

Chloe ignored the class completely, talking quietly to Marinette and Nino just waved from a distance, showing no desire to approach, even with Adrien in the middle of his colleagues.

Alya seemed to wake up when she saw the three around Marinette. A feeling of betrayal burning in her stomach, but not knowing if it was about Marinette or Nino.

“Girl, what's going on? Why did you disappear?” She asked. "You went missing for a month with Kim, came out of nowhere on a show that I didn't even know you liked, and you were acting different!"

Marinette stopped talking to Chloe to look at Alya. The blank expression, hard as marble.

“Does this have anything to do with Lila? Is that why you are doing this?” Alya continued, not caring about anything else. “We can help you, Marinette. If you leave us, we can help you get over it!”

Chloe, Sabrina and Nino had incredulous expressions on their faces. None of the three believed in Alya's lack of awareness. The blogger seemed unable to think rationally before acting or speaking.

Perhaps that was why Lila had clawed at her so deeply.

"Why would mèi mei need your help?" Someone behind the class asked and they turned around in alarm, only to find Kim, Kagami and- was that Ultimate Warrior contestant Damian Wayne?!

There were also five men and two women in the same style as the man before, Bai, following them closely.

"Kim?!"

"Kagami!"

"What the hell is he doing here?" Adrien murmured poisonously. The look piercing Damian.

The three newcomers were wearing traditional clothing from their culture, as was Marinette.

Kim was wearing slim fit pants, probably cotton, as it didn't look rough. Over his pants, there was a - ao dai, Alix thought. Having seen Kim wear them before, but the old ones were much simpler than what he wore at that moment - which reached knee-high, with buttons on the right side of his chest - like a chef's jacket - and golden embroidery along the sleeves, hem and along the left shoulder to the end of the rib on the right side. There were two slits, one on each side of the body. Derby shined on his feet.

The entire set was black, except for the golden embroidery of ao dai.

Kagami's style was vaguely similar to Marinette's, but with very noticeable differences and a little ‘heavier’. Kimono was the name? Ivan was not sure.

The top part was made up of two layers. The first was white, visible through the collar of the second, which was black with a floral print that varied between purple, white, pink and orange. Both 'y' shaped collars. The sleeves were relatively large, with pieces falling by the side even though the girl had her arm raised between Kim's. The skirt as well as the top was in two layers. The first was a dark green, only two inches showing and the second was red. Pleated and tied right below the chest.

It was less flowing than Marinette's.

On her feet, white socks and wooden sandals.

The third- Damian Al Ghul Wayne, the demon head, was wearing a... dress? No, Nathaniel did not know the name for that outfit, but he did know that most men in the Middle East wore it.

The fabric was pure white - looking quite expensive -; in the throat there was a detail that went down to the middle of the chest, it was probably hiding a zipper or buttons; there was a discreet pocket on his right chest and long sleeves, adjusted on the wrist with the same detail that was around his neck. The hem of the garment reached to the middle of the shin, where it was possible to see centimeters of cotton trousers also white and on his feet, beige Oxford.

Finally, he had a scarf squared with red and white, wrapped around his hair.

"I’m waiting, Césaire." Kim asked again, not looking happy with the lack of response. "Why would she need help?"

Alya snorted, annoyed by the question.

"For what else, Kim?" She asked petulantly. "I'm talking about this obsession and envy that Marinette has towards Lila."

While Kim kept a blank expression, Kagami raised an eyebrow, a scornful smile opening on her lips. Damian hadn't even stopped to greet them, he just walked right past them before pulling Marinette into a tight hug.

Kagami gently tapped Kim's arm that was wrapped around hers and he let her go, while maintaining his haughty pose.

"Why would mèi mei envy Lila, when Lila is just a cockroach?" She asked, Adrien winced at the hardness of her words. “Who is Lila compared to Cheng Guàn? No one. So, I don't know why you insist on this idea of envy.”

Mlle. Bustier's students were in various degrees scandalized. They were used to Kagami's abruptness, but she was always a blunt-non-aggressive type, where words came out rude without intention.

But here she was, being rude and deliberately aggressive.

Lila was soon putting on her best victim mask. With tearful eyes and a fluttering pout.

“Wwhy would you say something like that, Kagami? I never did you any harm, so why are you being a bully?” She sniffed, her voice shrill and fake.

Alya wrapped her arms around the Italian, Rose following closely, sandwiching the girl between them.

"Kagami, don't you think you're being too harsh?" Adrien asked, a pleading gleam in his eyes. "This is just a misunderstanding, isn't it?!" He smiled hopefully, believing that Kagami, like Marinette, would let Lila through without a hitch.

"Why the hell would it be a misunderstanding?" Kagami countered, her eyes growing colder and colder. Kim beside her had a disgusted expression. "She knows pretty well that she is on a tightrope, so she shouldn't be feeding Césaire's stupidity."

And Lila stiffened between the two girls, her face going pale.

"What does that mean?" Mylène asked.

"It means that mother Rossi found out about baby Rossi's antics after she was demoted from her embassy position." Kim replied, satisfaction dripping from his words.

Alya's eyes widened, Adrien gasped in shock and the rest of the class was incredulous.

"Did you dare to conspire against Lila's mother, Marinette?!" She turned to the girl who was talking privately with Nino, Sabrina, Chloe and Damian. Alya's voice caught their attention, again. "Have you gotten so mean, to the point of destroying an honest woman's career?"

Marinette's expression hardened, her gaze sharpening in a way they had never seen before.

"Have you ever in your life stopped to think before opening your mouth?" She asked acidly. "Eventually you're going to piss off someone not as benevolent as me and the results will be disastrous for you."

"... That seemed like a threat." Ivan murmured, his eyes darting nervously over the men and women in suits and possibly armed around them.

"The Cheng don't make threats, Ivan." Marinette looked at him. The icy blue of her eyes pierced him. "They just go and do it."

"That right there! What is this about Chengs, the Demon's head? Why are you acting this way? And why did you move out?” Alix asked, already irritated by everything. Frustrated by the lack of answers.

"You were born in Paris and live here, but have never heard of the Three Families?" Damian asked skeptically. "I understand that you don't know what the Demon's Head means, but not knowing about the Three Families is at least stupid."

"Is this about that legend of France's three richest families?" Nathaniel asked confused. ‘Three Families’ was no stranger to him, but he couldn’t remember exactly where he had heard about it.

“Not exactly... The Three Families are, as the name says, three families. The three main families of the global mafia." Max replied, his eyes wide as he understood the general situation. "The Three Families are composed of Tsuruchi- or rather, Tsurugi." He looked at Kagami. "Lien-Lê," He looks at Kim. "And the Chang-Cheng." And finally, he looks at Marinette.

"Alternative names have been used to hide the real identities of families, but valid information is available to those who are really looking." Kim nodded, enjoying Max's intelligence.

"And if I'm not wrong, the Demon's Head correlates with the League of Assassins, a highly trained clan of hired assassins." The boy spoke again, his eyes flicking over Damian.

Damian smiled scarily. "This and much more." He says in response. "It’s good that there is someone with brain cells in this class."

"So, you mean you four are part of the mafia?" Rose asked shakily.

"We are not part of the mafia." Kagami replied.

"We are the mafia." Marinette completed.

"Then again, why the hell would Guàn be jealous of an Italian girl who only gets attention by lying every second she breathes?" Kim crossed his arms, demanding a response from Alya.

The girl flinched, instinctively turning away from him and Lila.

"III-" She closed her mouth, not knowing what to say. For the first time using reason before emotion.

“Well, while this little meeting has been good, Guàn, Giáp, Damian and I have a place to be. So, if you would excuse us, we’d like to go now.” Kagami said rudely, before dragging Kim and Marinette by the arms to the bakery.

Damian, Chloe, Nino and Sabrina following behind with the bodyguards.

"Ah!" Marinette stopped abruptly, turning back to the class. "Adrien?"

The model jumped, surprised to be called.

"Yes?" He asked cautiously.

"Let Gabriel know that his presence was requested at an audience with the Three Families." She said. Adrien felt like there was a glacier in his stomach. "We have some pending issues to deal with."

Marinette looked at the model waiting for confirmation that he understood what she had said and he nodded mechanically. Fear licking his bones.

She smiled at him before looking at Lila, who was strangely pale next to Rose.

"And Lila?" The girl barely looked up to face her. "Behave. You and I know that you don't want my wrath.”

The girl looked down at the floor, completely subdued and Marinette went back into the bakery without looking back. Everyone coming in soon after, just Sabrina staying behind.

“Max, you will receive an email with important documents about Mlle. Rossi.” She said to the boy. "I hope you make good use of it."

Lila saw her reign collapse like a tower of cards.

And there was no way to escape because she knew she wouldn't be safe anywhere.

▫▪▪

"Cheng-さ ま(sama), was it really wise to expose yourself like that?" Tetsuya, one of Kagami's bodyguards, asked respectfully. "You are at risk of them opening their mouth to someone who might be really problematic."

Guàn smiled kindly at the man, finding his concern cute.

"They are not going to do that."

"How can you be so sure?"

"First because they are too scared of possible retaliation, second that they are too busy now tearing up Lila Rossi." She replied nonchalantly. "Sabrina sent a compilation of all her lies with evidence and facts to Max. They will keep themselves busy for at least until next month with this."

"The only persons we should be concerned with at the moment are Lila Rossi and Alya Césaire." Giáp said seriously. The hard line of his mouth showed how uncomfortable he was with the two girls.

"... Can't we just disappear with them?" Damian asked condescendingly. Caring nothing for the implications of his words.

"No." Kagami was succinct. "If they disappeared now, we would be the prime suspects and even if justice cannot touch us, we would be in evidence." The frown said how bitter she felt about it. "More than we already are."

Kagami would be the first person of the three to suggest getting rid of the problem, but because the three of them in evidence - for having participated in the UW -, that would not be possible.

"Why don't we leave Lila to the police to handle?" Sabrina asked uncertainly, everyone turning to look at her. "She's old enough to be judged by the justice both here and in Italy."

"Wait-" Nino looked at Sabrina in surprise. "Is Lila a criminal or are we planting evidence?"

"Oh, please!" Chloe rolled her eyes. “Rossi doesn't need us to do the dirty work. Her file is dirtier than the sewers in Paris.”

“So, we have a solution for Lila. Thanks Sabrina.” Guàn smiled at the redhead and the girl screeched, before hiding her red face behind the tablet.

Kagami and Guàn were two frighteningly charming young women and Sabrina's gay heart was too weak to withstand such direct attacks.

"Now we need something about Césaire and her gossip blog." Giáp said.

They all sat in silence pondering possible routes.

"Oh!" Nino sighed, an idea forming in his head.

"What is it, Nino?" Kagami asked.

"What is the best way to destroy a journalist?"

Everyone looked at each other in confusion until Damian smiled badly. "A journalist is destroyed by his reputation." He replied. "Spreading fake news, being a tabloid writer and things like that."

"Exactly." Nino nodded his head.

"If Alya tried to expose us, her blog would be enough for all credibility to fall apart." Damian continued. "I've seen one of my dad's associates use this to stifle any news about our... Activities, that escaped to the media."

"Not to mention that she is just a teenager." Qadira, one of Damian's bodyguards, said it out loud. She opened her eyes wide when she noticed everyone looking at her and then she lowered her head to Damian, her expression chastened. "I'm sorry for my boldness, رئیس(raʾīs)."

The sharp edges on Damian's mouth softened.

“Relax Qadira. We are among friends.” He replies and the woman straightens up, slowly nodding at him. "Now elaborate what you said to us."

She hesitated for a few seconds before speaking again.

“I meant that she is just a teenager. No adult will take her seriously, even if her blog is not brought as evidence of her inability to judge or check the facts.”

"Not to mention that she seemed to be a very troubled teenager." Oma, Damian's second bodyguard, pointed. “I don't think she is an immediate risk here. She’s too volatile to be taken seriously.” She shrugged.

"Well, it looks like everything is settled." Giáp raised his arm to check the time on his wristwatch. "Just in time for us to kick Gabriel Agreste's ass."

Marinette turned to Kagami's bodyguard, a sweet smile on her face.

"See, Tetsuya?" She said. "Nothing to worry about."

▫▪▪

"So mèi mei is engaged to the Demon's head." Giáp said suddenly. "That means we have to find our own, aneki."

He and Kagami were sitting on the leather couch, reading some important documents about companies belonging to the Three Families.

The girl looked up from the paper in her hands, no reaction beyond that.

"... I call dibs on Sabrina and Chloe." She responded quickly.

Giáp smiled conspiratorially.

"Great, because Nino is mine."

And then the two went back to reading the documents lying on the table.

... Totally ignoring the people around them, including the three mentioned, who were at different levels of embarrassment.

[tag list]

@justafanwarrior​ @ash-amg​ @neakco​ @g-arya​ @loveswifi​ @actual-disaster-human​ @wannajointhecrabcult​ @lozzybowe​  @iamablinkmarvelarmy​ @saays-bitch @xxmdsxx​ @nicknnie​ @damianette-is-life​ @thegirlwhosawdeath

[jmnjmnjmn]

Celebrity Crush| part 1 | BTS x Reader mini series

Pairing: BTS x Celebrity!Reader

Key words: celebrity crush, singer, idol.

Word count: around 8,000

Masterlist

Okay, this one is just regular fluff, but it definitely has potential to become more juicy, maybe even angsty... I had many ideas when I was writing it, but decided upon cutting it where I did. Maybe there will be part two to this story, maybe not. If there will be it will also probably be able to functionas a totaly separate one shot. Also I couldn’t decide on a ship here! Initially it was supposed to be RM, but I kept coming back to JK (my bias xd). That’s where possibility of an angst story lays... Anyway tell me what you think of this piece!

“AH!” Namjoon exclaimed, dropping his spoon down into his soup.

“Hey, watch it! You’re spilling everything!” Seokjin yelled back at him as some of his friend's soup splashed out from his bowl.

“What happened?” Hoseok asked, sipping his soup slowly and looking at Namjoon with curiosity.

“It’s-It’s (Y/N).” He stuttered out, his eyes still glued to the screen of his phone. He was scrolling through Twitter when he noticed a tweet from his favourite female artist, (Y/N), announcing her world wide tour.

“What? Did she message you?” Seokjin asked him with a chuckle, knowing well that wouldn’t happen.

“I wish.” Namjoon scoffed and clicked on a link to an article some music site posted immediately after reading (Y/N)’s tweet. “(Y/N) has announced details of her long-awaited world tour.” He read out loud to  his friends already feeling his heartbeat pick up. “The singer has continuously updated her fans on the details, promising them that she was working on the announcement. Now, via a short video on Instagram simply captioned ‘Hello world’, she has finally revealed when and where the No Limitations tour will be starting off. You can see the full dates, which she simultaneously posted on her Twitter account, below.” He quickly scrolled down to take a look at the dates and locations. His jaw dropped as he scanned down the list and noticed the Asia leg of the tour. “Soul is on the list.” He muttered. “In January. Seoul is on the list.” He repeated looking at his friends with wide eyes.

“Finally!” Hoseok exclaimed reaching across the table to pat him on the shoulder. “You can go see her then.”

“It hasn’t been announced when tickets will go on sale.” Namjoon said in panic as he frantically searched the internet for information about the tour.

“I’m sure our staff can get you in there without a ticket.” Seokjin said casually, but Namjoon took the matter very seriously. (Y/N) wasn’t just someone who’s music he liked. He also had a huge crush on her as a girl in general and he wasn’t about to pass on an opportunity to see her perform live.

“I have to talk to our PD about that.” He said in an excited tone and clicked his Messages app to draft up a passionate yet professional text saying how much he wants, no, needs to go to (Y/N)’s Seoul concert.

“Now?” Seokjin asked, taken aback a little by his fast pace.

“No time to waste. It’s (Y/N) we’re talking about.” Namjoon chuckled. “If all goes well maybe we could work on some music together.”

“Yeah and maybe something more.” Hoseok teased him, earning a loud laugh from Seokjin. Namjoon only smiled up at them from his phone, because among those who followed the news about BTS it was a well known fact that he had a thing for (Y/N).

Whenever they would get asked about their celebrity crushes in interviews he would say (Y/N)’s name. Ideal girl - someone like (Y/N). A song they could listen to on loop - (Y/N)’s latest single. Fashion inspiration at the moment - (Y/N). Favourite movie - that one (Y/N) had a cameo in for like three minutes. It would happen so much that ARMY’s started making compilations of him talking about her on YouTube called “Namjoon drooling over (Y/N) for 7 minutes straight” and so on. At first he was embarrassed about it, but after some time that awkward feeling turned into hope that maybe she’ll see it and fall for him as well. He knew it was wishful thinking, but he still liked to imagine the moment you would message him saying you would love to collab on a song.

-

“I’m going to go talk to our PD.” Namjoon said, as he took off the bright pink sunglasses with Happy New Year written on top of them in a silly font. He wore them for the small photoshoot they just had for BTS’s New Year’s Eve post on Twitter.

“Now?” Jimin asked him, raising his brows.  He was still wearing his party hat he put on for the session. “It’s New Year’s Eve.”

“I know. I just-” He was interrupted by Taehyung’s loud cheer. “I’ll be right back.” Jimin just shook his head at his eagerness to find out whether (Y/N)’s staff has already answered BigHit’s request for letting Namjoon go to your show with a backstage pass as a celebrity guest of sorts.

Since they were already at the BigHit headquarters for the photoshoot and a little celebration for the beginning of the new year Namjoon had to walk just a couple of doors down to get to PD’s office. He took a deep breath before knocking on the door. After hearing a faint invitation he pressed on the handle and opened it.

“Oh, it’s you. Why aren’t you with the others celebrating?” The PD asked, obviously surprised to see Namjoon.

“Ah, yes. I’ll be joining them in a minute.” He said, remembering Jimin’s words. “I just came here to ask about the No Limitations show. It’s in January and since it’s already first of the month I wondered-”

“Ah, of course.” PD cut him off with a smile. “You're going.”

“Really?” Namjoon asked in shock.

“Yes, all of you are.” Namjoon must have looked very confused for a moment there, because PD rushed with an explanation. “We got an answer saying they were going to issue a formal invitation to the concert and an after party to the whole band anyway. Go and pass on the news to the rest of the boys. We’ll have a proper meeting about this next week.” Namjoon thanked him accesively and assured he’ll let the rest of the members know about the situation. As he walked down the hall he heard their voices from the dance studio they had the photo shoot in. He was speechless.

“It’s happening.” He thought, leaning on the wall to catch a breath before coming inside. After a moment he pushed the door open and joined his group members with a bright smile.

“Guys, guys. Listen” He called. “We’re going to (Y/N)’s concert!” He exclaimed and they cheered, gathering around him, smothering him with hugs and tugging on his cheeks teasingly.

-

“Look at him.” Jimin chuckled pointing at Namjoon who was pacing around the room. “So excited for the concert.”

“Of course he is. He’s going to meet his crush.” Seokjin added, also laughing.

The whole group was teasing him about (Y/N) all throughout January. It was seventeenth today, the day of her Seoul show and he couldn’t wait. They already got their hair and makeup done. They were dressed to the nines. All that was left was to get to the show.

“The car is here.” Someone from the staff announced and all the boys got up from their spots. As they walked down the hall together they all took turns patting Namjoon on the shoulder for encouragement.

“Do you think we’ll have a chance to talk to her?” Jungkook asked with excitement when they were all in the car together.

“Of course!” Hoseok exclaimed.

“No, but like, for real talk. Not just: nice to meet you, let’s take a picture, goodbye.” The youngest explained quickly.

“Hopefully.” Seokjin said, patting Namjoon on the thigh as that was something he was worried about. He would definitely be happy if he got even only a second with (Y/N), but he wished for more.

After a short drive the car stopped in an underground parking lot under the venue of the concert. As they got outside they could hear the cheers of the crowds gathered outside. Their staff took them on an elevator explaining once again how the night will go. First a before party with other guests, then the concert itself and after that the after party at a hotel. Namjoon repeated the sequence of these events in his head a million times already. Technically he was prepared, but practically he was a mess. His hands were sweating and his heart was racing like crazy. He looked around the small elevator at his closest friends and the familiar faces of BigHit staff who were accompanying them. Realising he has so many people around him for support eased his nerves a little.

“I can’t believe we’re in the same building.” Namjoon muttered under his breath.

“Yeah, she was also in the same building as us at the VMA’s and AMA’s and so on.” Yoongi teased him and everyone chuckled.

“That’s true, Namjoon.” Taehyung agreed with a grin. “You shouldn’t be so worried.”

“Easy for you to say.” Namjoon added right as the elevator door opened.

“Yeah, she already saw us perform at one of the award shows. She knows who we are. It’s going to be fine.” Jimin said in a nervous tone. Namjoon just nodded to himself trying to make the anxious thoughts go away as they approached the area where the before party was held.

They were all excited to see (Y/N)’s show and attend her after party, but with the tremendous enthusiasm also came the stress of meeting an A list celebrity from overseas. 

-

“I can’t believe she’s still not here.” Namjoon whined to Taehyung and Jimin as the rest of the group scattered to chat with other invited idols and celebrities. “All the dancers and her band are here already.”

“It’s still early.” Taehyung tried to cheer him up. “She’ll show up any moment. I’m sure.”

“Definitely.” Jimin agreed with him energetically.

Before Namjoon could voice another concerned thought lingering in his brain everyone in the room started cheering and clapping. He looked around wondering what caused this reaction as he noticed the obvious reason.

“Thank you all so much for coming.” (Y/N) said stopping somewhere in the middle of the gathered crowd of celebrities and staff. “It means a lot. Really.” She put her hand to her chest as she spoke. “If all goes well the show will be starting in a couple of minutes. Wish me luck and have fun.” 

“That’s it?” Taehyung asked as (Y/N) was rushed away by her staff to the stage entry. “I thought she was going to chat with everyone or something.”

“Do you chat with guests before the show?” Jimin asked. “That’s what the after party is for.” He explained and Namjoon hummed in agreement. Just the quick glimpse he caught of her was enough to leave him speechless.

“Let’s go watch the show.” Hoseok said approaching the three from behind with the rest of the group following close behind.

There was a big screen in the backstage lounge and a couple of smaller TV’s located at the stage entries for those that wanted to glance at the stage during the show to see the real deal. They watched the first half of the show in the lounge and later relocated to the left entry area. Namjoon’s eyes were glued to the screen as everyone around him chatted away. He tried to pay attention to the conversation and partake from time to time, but his focus quickly went back to (Y/N). She looked stunning singing and dancing on stage.

Suddenly a group of staff dressed in all black rushed into the area they were hanging out in with some other guests.

“Wardrobe change, left.” One of the staff said as she clicked on her earpiece.

Namjoon almost jumped out of his seat when he saw (Y/N) jogging down from the stage and into the swarm of her people from her team.

“Woah, that gave me chills.” Yoongi commented as (Y/N) passed by them surrounded by her wardrobe, hair and makeup team.

“Say something.” Hoseok whispered, elbowing Namjoon’s side.

“Like what?” He asked following (Y/N) with his gaze as she disappeared behind her dressing room's door.

“Great show, looking good. Anything really.” He encouraged him with a cheeky smile.

“No.” Namjoon shook his head, already feeling the blood rushing to his head.

“Do it. Do it.” The rest of the members repeated after Hoseok, but he only shook his head once again.

“She’ll come out any second.” Seokjin added in a warning tone.

He was right. The dance number performed by her backup dancers was getting to an end and (Y/N) should be running out onto the stage soon to sing the next song.

“Great show!” Jungkook yelled out in English.

All the boys’s heads snapped in his direction and then onto (Y/N). She was walking out of her dressing room in long strides. As Jungkook yelled out his praise she turned to look his way without stopping,

“Thank you!” She answered quickly before being escorted by her staff into the understage corridors.

All the boys started shoving and pushing the youngest member teasingly.

“Namjoon was supposed to say that. You took over his part. Jungkook, you’re so eager.” They yelled with laughter.

-

“What time is it?” Taehyung asked the group as most of the guests gathered in the backstage lounge to watch the encore of the show.

“It’s close to eleven.” Seokjin answered, looking at his phone.

“Before we finish off the show with this last song I just wanted to take a minute to say: Thank you so much.” (Y/N)’s voice echoed from the stage and through the speakers in the lounge. She was standing in the bright lights holding the mic to her lips. “Thank you for choosing to come see the show and spending the night here with us. I really can’t even begin to express how grateful I am for all of you, here in the audience and back at home watching and streaming my music and the shows. Thank you so much.” 

“Ah, she’s so nice. Never forgetting about her fans.” People around muttered.

“I really, truly appreciate you guys. I cannot imagine how this year would’ve gone if I hadn't spent it with all of you, all of the people on the stage and behind it. We’ve been away from our homes for so long.” (Y/N) voice got higher with nerves and sadness that came over her as she spoke about her home. “We’re coming close to ten months on the road now. That’s a long time.” She said, bringing her hand to her chest to show her gratitude. “Thank you so much for putting up with me.” She chuckled and the staff cheered. “I feel so lucky and so fortunate to be working with all of you and to be able to perform in front of all of you.” She sighed deeply, undoubtedly masking a cry. “So thank you. I love you so much. Thank you.”

-

The audience was shouting and applauding loudly as (Y/N) walked off the stage waving to them. As soon as she was out of the view she handed her microphone to one of the sound people and took a big gulp of water from the bottle one of the staff handed her.

“Thank you.” She breathed out. “I need to get out of this hair as soon as possible.” She chuckled tiredly as she walked into her dressing room.

“We’ve got about twenty minutes to get you ready for the after party.” Her assistant, who was waiting inside, spoke calmly as the beauty and wardrobe team gathered around (Y/N) quickly taking out the bobby pins from her hair and undoing the back of her dress. “There’s quite a lot of guests your manager would like you to talk to, at least for a minute.” She said and quickly moved on to listing all the most important people attending the party.

“Have any of those people been informed that I might want to reach out to work with them later?” (Y/N) asked, getting into her oversized sweatshirt dress with the help of some staff so that she doesn’t ruin her makeup.

“No, that’ll be done after tonight. Sometime this week though.” She explained scrolling through something on her tablet.

“What time is the flight to Osaka tomorrow?” (Y/N)’s voice sounded tired as she thought of getting on another plane.

“Actually, there’s been a change of plans.” Her assistant said casually. “You got surprise booked for a daytime show tomorrow, so we’re staying in Seoul for that for the whole day and flying to Japan the next morning. The crew will be already there setting everything up for Saturday.”

“Two days in Seoul?” (Y/N) was surprised.

“Mhm.”

“What’s the show?”

“King of Masked Singer. You’re going to be the surprise opening act. I’ll fill you in on everything tomorrow morning.”

“Perfect.” She said smiling at herself in the mirror as the hairstylist was fixing up her hair.

“Heels or sneakers?” One of the wardrobe girls asked.

“Heels.” (Y/N) answered without hesitation. She wanted to look her best when surrounded with so many new faces at the after party and pairing sneakers with an oversized sweatshirt didn’t seem like the greatest combination for that.

“Ready.” The head stylist stated as one of the staff helped (Y/N) get into her thigh high booties.

From there, accompanied by security, (Y/N) and her assistant walked to the elevator that took them to the parking lot located under the venue.

-

As (Y/N)’s car pulled up in front of the hotel a swarm of fans and paparazzi started yelling out her name and waving to get her attention. She stopped to get her pictures taken, walked up to a couple of fans to sign their albums or pictures and walked inside to get to the after party. With her assistant following her every step and the three body guards right behind them she took yet another elevator to the hotel bar rented for the occasion. 

“Let’s do this.” (Y/N) whispered to herself as she pushed the bar door open.

When she walked deeper into the crowded room random hands touched her shoulders and unknown voices spoke words of praise directed her way. She smiled and thanked the faceless mass making her way towards the DJ’s stand.

“That’s her.” Hoseok whispered as (Y/N) passed by the group of boys.

“Woah. She’s dressed cool.” Taehyung gasped, eying down her figure.

When she stepped onto the slightly elevated stage the DJ stopped the music and handed her a microphone. A wave of cheers erupted from the gathered guests as everyone noticed the star of the night had arrived.

“Hi.” (Y/N) spoke sweetly into the microphone and let the crowd yell or whistle back at her for a moment. “It’s so nice to see all of you here.” She chuckled. “Eat, drink, have fun. It’s all on me tonight. Just tonight.” She joked and the crowd clapped and yelled in excitement. “I know you all came here after the concert, but it’s not all about my music tonight.” Her tone turned mysterious all of a sudden. “It’s actually a very special day for someone else as well. A very funny guy, an inspiration in the studio, a dance mastermind and a dear friend and coworker of mine.” With every endearment term she listed the cheers got wilder. “Johnny Campbell. Where you at?” She asked looking around the room.

“Here!” Someone called out in the front of the room.

“Johnny, this is for you.” (Y/N) said in a low voice and started singing a very sexy adaptation of the birthday song.

As she finished someone in the crowd whistled and Johnny joined her on stage.

“Happy birthday Johnny.” (Y/N) finished off her wishes and hugged him tightly. “Let’s party, everyone!” She exclaimed into the microphone earning a loud cheer from everyone gathered at the bar.

-

(Y/N) made her way to the bar, stopping to chat and take a picture with someone every couple of steps. More than twenty minutes had passed from the moment she got off stage to when she finally got to the counter and grabbed herself a glass of expensive champagne. She sipped on the bubbly liquid and chatted to members of her dance crew. Looking around the room she locked eyes with a guy she recognised from somewhere. It took her a minute to realise it was BTS’s Jimin she was looking at. She smiled to herself, remembering that his group was on her manager’s to-talk-to list. Being halfway done with her drink she decided to down it and get another one before walking up to the group of boys.

“Oh my god.” Jimin exclaimed. “(Y/N) just looked here.” 

“Where is she?” Namjoon asked, feeling his panic and excitement blur into one.

“At the bar.” He answered through gritted teeth.

“She’s coming here. She’s coming here.” Jungkook said quickly as (Y/N) made her way towards them.

“Hi, guys. I’m so glad you could make it.” She said in a sweet tone. “I’m (Y/N).”

“We know.” Jungkook blurted out which would normally earn him a shove to the shoulder from the older members, but the sound of (Y/N)’s chuckle at his comment made them relax and join her with nervous laughter. “I’m Jungkook.” He added extending his hand.

“I know.” (Y/N) answered with a smile and went for a hug and kiss on the cheek instead of a simple handshake.

“You know?” He asked in shock.

“Yes, I saw you guys perform at award shows, your music is everywhere. I know BTS.” The members smiled widely as she explained and started greeting the rest of them in the same way one by one. The hugs were quick, but still sincere. “I’m so happy you found time in your busy schedule to come see my show.” 

“We wouldn’t miss it.” Namjoon said, trying to sound cool and collected. He wasn’t going to mention that he practically begged their PD to get them backstage.

“Oh, thank you.” She smiled and Namjoon’s knees almost went weak at the sight.

“Yes, great show.” Jungkook added and the group laughed.

“Oh, it was you.” (Y/N) also laughed realising it was Jungkook who yelled the words of praise her way halfway through the concert.

“Yes, I… Liked your dance with… By Your Side.” Jungkook said slowly making sure he picked the right words. “Great choreography.”

“Thank you.” She answered, bringing her hand to her chest as she accepted his compliment. “It’s nothing compared to your routines though. Those look hard.”

“Ah, yes. Thank you. We work hard. A lot of practice.” They muttered with modesty.

“Honestly!” (Y/N) exclaimed. “I was trying to learn the routine for your song with Halsey with my girls… So hard.”

“Boy With Luv?” Jimin raised his eyebrows.

“Yeah, but the foot choreo was killing me.” She complained jokingly.

“Hyung, ask her which member’s part she learned.” Jungkook asked Namjoon in Korean.

“He wants to know which member’s choreography you learned.” Namjoon explained.

“Yours,” (Y/N) pointed to Jungkook.

“Me?” He asked and she nodded energetically. “Hyung, say I can teach her the choreography.” He added in Korean with a wide smile, still shocked he’s talking to such a huge star. Namjoon and the rest of the boys laughed at the youngest member’s bluntness.

“He’s saying he’ll teach you.” Namjoon hurried with an explanation as (Y/N) looked confused by what they were laughing about. 

“Watch out, ‘cause I’ll take you up on that offer.” She raised her brow at Jungkook cheekily who looked at Namjoon for a translation.

“She says she might take you up on that.” He translated to his friend and he laughed, feeling a blush creep up onto his face.

“I sang your song during soundcheck today.” (Y/N) stated and all the members raised their brows at her.

“Which one?” Jungkook asked.

“Sweet Night. V’s solo.” She said pointing to Taehyung. “It’s such a sweet song and you sound amazing in it.” She said, touching his shoulder.

“Thank you so much.” Taehyung smiled, bowing to her slightly.

Not in many moments Namjoon was glad that his members couldn’t speak English as well as he did, but right now he couldn’t be happier about it. They were all so excited to be talking to (Y/N) they forgot their tongues. The alcoholic beverages that they already consumed didn’t help either. They asked him for translations every other sentence, meaning (Y/N) needed him to translate for her as well, meaning he was talking to her more than any other member, meaning she looked at him more than at any other member. Despite the language barrier the conversation flowed so easily between them. He felt ecstatic.

“(Y/N).” Her assistant called her name and brought her to the side for a moment.” It’s showtime.”

By saying “showtime” she meant that it’s time for (Y/N) to perform a song or two to entertain the guests and keep the party going.

“I’ll be right there.” She answered her and walked back to the group of boys.

“V, could I borrow you for a moment?” She asked with a sweet voice.

Unsure of what she might want from him, but still excited Taehyung followed (Y/N) into the bar.

“You said you love Underneath and know the lyrics by heart.” She said, glancing at him as they walked side by side through the crowded room filled with chatter and music. Taehyung hummed in agreement, feeling his heartbeat grow faster and faster. “You know them well enough to sing it live with me now?”

“What?” He asked, almost tripping over his own feet.

“I’m supposed to perform a couple of songs now. Would you like to perform one with me?” She asked stopping and looked him in the eyes with hope.

“Of course.” Taehyung answered, giving her his signature box smile.

“Great!” She exclaimed and grabbed his hand to lead him backstage. “This way.”

-

“Where do you think she took him?” Seokjin asked as (Y/N) disappeared with Taehyung in the crowd.

“I have no idea.” Namjoon answered, also curious about the whole ordeal.

“She’s very nice.” Jungkook commented.

“Yeah, nicer than I imagined.” Yoongi added.

“We have to get a picture together.” Hoseok said and the rest of the boys agreed.

“Look, there’s (Y/N).” Jimin pointed towards the stage where the DJ’s booth was located.

“Welcome to the stage, the one and only, (Y/N) and Korea’s very own, V of BTS!” Announced the DJ and all the boys’s jaws dropped to the floor.

“What?!” They screamed in unison.

“Hi.” (Y/N) said in a low voice. “V and I have a very special cover for you tonight. Please enjoy, Underneath.”

The rest of the members sang along to the fast paced pop song as V and (Y/N) performed. The lyrics talked about hidden feelings and the tension that can build up if you don’t give them a way out. Even though (Y/N) and Taehyung never sang together before their voices blended perfectly in the duet. When they finished their performance the crowd applauded loudly. (Y/N) put her arm behind Taehyung and he did the same. Joined in this side hug they bowed to the audience.

After a minute or two Taehyung got back to his friends with the widest smile on his face.

“Can you believe this?” He was still in shock.

“Congratulations. You were so good. Woah.” All the boys chattered at the same time.

“I recorded you.” Seokjin added as he pulled out his phone from his pocket. They gathered around the small screen watching Taehyung and (Y/N)’s performance once again.

“Where is she?” Namjoon asked Taehyung as the video came to an end.

“Last I saw her she was talking to MAMAMOO.”

“Ah, so cool. She’s probably busy. We didn’t even take a picture together.” The group chimed. After a moment of sulking they went back to obsessing over the fact that they met (Y/N) and that one of their own members sang with her.

Surrounded by music, food and alcohol the time seemed to fly by very fast. Accompanied by their staff they left the party around two in the morning without having a chance to talk to (Y/N) one more time.

-

Mornings after concerts are usually pretty bad for both the audience members and the performing artists, but mornings after concerts combined with after parties, meeting new people and mingling with every music producer possible are even harder.

(Y/N) woke up with a headache and a bitter taste in her mouth. From her bed she walked straight to the bathroom to take a shower. When brushing her teeth she scrolled through her Twitter feed reviewing every other caption or photo on the endless string of posts from last night she was tagged in. She liked a couple of tweets posted by her friends and was about to lock her phone when she noticed a simple caption.

“Great show #정국” (Y/N) pressed on the picture to see it whole. She immediately recognised Jungkook, one of the members of BTS, a band she met last night. He was standing in front of the big monitor backstage with her tour logo on it, making hearts with his fingers and smiling at the camera. She smiled to herself remembering how easily yesterday’s conversation flowed with the group of boys.

“Ah, I wish I had his number.” (Y/N) muttered. “I could take him up on that dance lesson offer.”

-

(Y/N) rushed to open her hotel room’s door to the room service. The hoteboy brought in the big breakfast she just ordered minutes ago and set it on the table. As she got ready to dig into the scrambled eggs her phone started vibrating. She looked at the called ID and quickly picked up as she saw it was her assistant calling. She gave her a quick rundown of the day’s events and informed her she’s free to rest and relax until three in the afternoon.

“That’s when they’ll pick us up for King of Masked Singer.” She finished explaining.

“I have one more question.” An interesting idea popped into (Y/N)’s head. “Is there a way you could get me the number of BTS’s Jungkook?” 

-

(Y/N)’s phone chimed as she was finishing up her breakfast. She picked it up reading the message she just recieved.

“I got it.” As she read the message from her assistant another one appeared on the screen. This time it was a string of numbers.

“Ah, what should I say?” (Y/N) pasted the number into her contacts and waited a minute before pressing the dial button. The phone beeped a couple of times before going silent. Jungkook didn’t pick up. “Hm. Let’s try again.”

Meanwhile, on the other side of the city, Jungkook was hanging out with his friends in their shared apartment. He was typing something up on his phone when the screen lip up with an unfamiliar number. 

“Hyung, do you know this number?” He showed the ringing screen to Taehyung sitting beside him on the couch.

“No. Pick up.” Jungkook just shook his head at his answer.

“I don’t pick up unknown callers.” He rejected the call and went back to what he was doing. “This person is calling again.”

“Pick up.” More preoccupied with switching through TV channels, Taehyung encouraged him tiredly. Jungkook swiped right to take the call and put it on speaker.

“Hello?” He asked in Korean.

“Ah- Hello.” Jungkook and Taehyung locked eyes in surprise and curiosity as the person on the other side spoke in English. “It’s (Y/N). From yesterday.” Taehyung almost screamed in shock. Jungkook felt all his blood rush to his head.

“Ah, sorry. Hello. Sorry.” He stumbled over his words, trying to explain why he didn’t answer her call at first ring. “I don’t pick up if I don’t know the number.” (Y/N) chuckled on the other end of the line.

“It’s fine.” Her voice was sweet and calm. “Actually, I’m calling, ‘cause I’m still in Seoul-” Taehyung stood up from the couch covering his mouth with his hands, still in deep shock. “-and I was wondering- I was thinking about what you said last night, so…” Jungkook scrunched his eyebrows, trying his hardest to remember what he said that made (Y/N) call him the next morning. “If you have time we could meet and dance together.” Taehyung gasped. “You could teach me the Boy With Luv choreo and-” Jungkook couldn’t control himself and answered her before she could even finish asking the question.

“Yes.” He blurted out. Taehyung jumped back on the couch and pushed his shoulder with a huge smile.

“Really?”

“Yes, yes.” He assured her.

“Should I come to your-” Eager to see her he cut her off again.

“You can come to our studio. I will text you the address.”

“Great. I’m free until three in the afternoon so text me the time as well.” She added.

“Okay.”

“Okay. I’ll see you there.” (Y/N) added after a moment of silence.

“Okay. Bye.”

“Bye.”

“AH!” Jungkook threw his phone, which felt red hot in his hands right now, on the other side of the couch.

“What was that?!” Taehyung yelled, shaking on his shoulders. “How did she get your number?!” 

“I have no idea!” Jungkook felt his body relax as he was no longer on the phone. “Oh my god. I have to text her now!” He reached to dig his phone out from under a stack of pillows and blankets on the couch. “And I have to go see her!”

-

“You’re doing great.” Jungkook praised (Y/N) with laughter as she jokingly overdid the moves and gestures in the choreography. “Like that.”

“Okay, but in all seriousness how did I do?” She asked, cutting the jokes short. Jungkook raised his thumbs up with a smile and she chuckled again.

“Let’s do it again and record it so we can review. You vs me.” He set his phone up on the floor by the mirrors in the studio space at BigHit.

“Teacher vs student.” Jungkook just hummed in agreement before playing the music.

-

Tired after practicing Boy With Luv for an hour and freestyling for almost two more (Y/N) and Jungkook sat down on the floor of the dance studio panting. She stood up to get herself some water and immediately regretted it.

“Ah, my legs.” Jungkook smiled at her words. Although (Y/N) danced in her music videos and during live performances her routines were far more relaxed that BTS’s regular dances. Their moves were sharp and strong and her’s more sexy and slow. Chucked her emptied water bottle back into her bag and turned to face Jungkook again. “Are you hungry?” He raised his brows, knowing what will come next if he says he is in fact hungry.

“Yeah.”

“Let’s go eat something.” Her proposition was so blunt and free. He could not refuse her, but the excitement that filled his chest at that moment didn’t overshadow the fact that the rest of his group would be so bummed they didn’t get to eat with (Y/N) as well.

“Ah, can I do this to them?” He whined in Korean. (Y/N) gave him a confused look since she didn’t understand a word he just said. “My members will be jealous.” He explained with a slight smile.

“Oh, I didn’t think about that. Should we invite them?” That Jungkook wasn’t expecting.

“You want that?” He asked to make sure he didn’t just hear something wrong. (Y/N) smiled sincerely at his unsure expression.

“Yeah, why not?” Jungkook quickly got up from the ground and dug his phone up from his pocket.

“I’ll call them. Wait a second.”

“Okay.” (Y/N) answered as he walked out of the studio to call his friends.

Jungkook dialed Namjoon’s number, knowing he was at the apartment right now enjoying his day of rest. The line beeped a couple of times before he finally picked up.

“Hello?” His voice was low and sleepy in contrast with Jungkook’s, which was excited and fast paced.

“Hyung, listen. Get the rest of the guys and put me on speaker. I have something to tell all of you.” 

“What is it?”

“Are they all there?”

“Wait a second.” Some shuffling and name calling was heard on the other side of the line before Namjoon spoke up again. “Okay, go.”

“So I’m with (Y/N) right now. We just got done dancing and all that and… She’s invited us all to lunch.” 

“What? Oh, wow. Really? How cool.” The group erupted in chatter as they heard Jungkook’s news.

“Yeah. Can you come?”

“Of course. Yes. I can’t.” Another bundle of statements was heard.

“Who can’t?” Jungkook asked, saddened.

“Yoongi.” Seokjin said.

“I already have plans with our producers, but you all should go.” Yoongi explained, still encouraging the rest of the boys to go out.

“You sure?” Namjoon asked.

“Yes, go.”

“We’ll take a picture for you.” Hoseok joked.

“What are we going to eat?” Taehyung asked out of the blue.

“I don’t know.” Jungkook answered, not really having thought about that yet.

“Since we know Seoul maybe we should pick the place?” Seokjin proposed thoughtfully.

“Good idea. I’ll tell her that. When will you come here?”

“Thirty minutes? We need to get dressed.” Namjoon said and murmur of agreement was heard.

“Okay, okay. Don’t overdress though, we’re both in sweatpants.” Jungkook added with a chuckle. After exchanging goodbyes he hung up and sighed deeply, letting his shoulders relax a little before going back into the studio.

When he opened the door he saw (Y/N) stretching her legs in a sitting down position. He joined her on the floor before speaking.

-

As Taehyung pulled into BigHit’s parking lot Jungkook and (Y/N) were already waiting outside. Both dressed in large black puffer jackets going over their knees, they stood beside one another. Jungkook was looking over (Y/N)’s shoulder pointing to something on her phone.

“Now you can add a picture.” He said, swiping his finger on her screen. (Y/N) nodded and pressed on the camera option.

“Take a selfie with me.” She asked, raising her phone up to take a picture of the two of them.

Jungkook smiled shyly and pulled his mask down half way. (Y/N) did the same before snapping a cute picture to set as her contact photo. Jungkook quickly pulled his mask back up to cover his cheeks that started to turn bright red. He glanced over her shoulder as she manipulated the photo to fit both of their faces into the small square.

“And synchronise your contacts, so I will be there.” He added as she finally accepted the placement of the picture.

“Oh, great.”

“Yeah.” (Y/N) pressed on the ‘synch contacts’ button before looking up at Jungkook.

“Thank you.” She said sweetly and pulled her mask back over her nose.

“You’re welcome.”

Taehyung noticed the two of them standing in front of the building exit and slowly pulled up. As he got closer he rolled down his window.

“Hello!” The sudden greeting made them jump up slightly.

“Hi!” (Y/N) called back sweetly.

“Come in!” Shoulder to shoulder they walked towards the car after Taehyung's invitation.

Namjoon was already sitting in the passenger's seat making it so that Jungkook and (Y/N) had to sit together in the backseat.

“How was dance practice?” Namjoon asked them.

“What was it?” (Y/N) tapped Jungkook’s arm. He whispered something to her and she clapped her hands in realisation. “Daebak.” Namjoon and Taehyung laughed at her harsh pronunciation.

“It was good. Great.” Jungkook added after the chuckles died down. “Where are the other guys?” He asked Namjoon in Korean.

“The rest of the guys will meet us at the restaurant.” He explained in English, so (Y/N) could understand. She was still doing something on her phone when he glanced at her from the front seat.

“Jungkook.” Her shy tone echoed in the car. “I synced the contacts, but you’re not here.” She showed him her phone with a concerned expression. “Look.” 

“Maybe I will just add my number like normal and then it will be saved in the contacts.” (Y/N) hummed in agreement, giving him her phone.

“What are you doing?” Taehyung asked in Korean, eying the two in the rearview mirror. Jungkook glanced at him, thanking god that (Y/N) doesn’t speak their language.

“I made (Y/N) a Kakao account.”

“And you’re putting your number in?” Taehyung continued in a teasing tone. Jungkook smiled at (Y/N)’s screen and typed in his ID.

“It’s not like that.” 

-

The boys picked out a traditional korean diner with private rooms and floor level tables. They ordered mountains of meat to fry and tons of side dishes, soups and rice. At first (Y/N) widened her eyes at the amount of food concerned there will be leftovers, but within thirty or forty minutes she realised that those six boys’s stomachs can intake much more food that she can.

The conversation within the group flowed swiftly and comfortably as it did the night before. There even was some talk about possible musical collaborations. No one was looking at the clock, but at two o’clock sharp (Y/N)’s phone buzzed.

“Ah, it’s my assistant.” She announced with deep sorrow in her voice. “Unfortunately I will have to get going soon, guys. I have a TV appearance this evening.”

“TV today?” Seokjin asked in English. He seemed really shocked. When he spoke again he directed his words to Namjoon and spoke in Korean. “She shouldn't have eaten so much noodles and rice. She’ll be bloated and puffy. That’s very bad.”

“He says noodles and rice is bad for TV, ‘cause you might get puffy.” Namjoon explained to (Y/N) who just waved him off and chuckled.

“Ah, I’ll be wearing a big dress and a mask anyway.”

“What show are you on?” Namjoon asked, curiously.

“Something called King of Masked Singer.” The boys started talking over each other in Korean and patting Jungkook on the shoulders. After a moment of that Namjoon translated the jist of it to (Y/N).

“Yeah, so JK also was on that show.” (Y/N), who was sitting opposite to the youngest member of the group, looked up at him with a smile.

“Really?” She asked after swallowing another sip of hot soup. “What did they put you in? What costume?”

“I was…” He wanted to tell her everything in English, but was missing the most crucial word. “Hyung, how do you say fencer?” He asked Namjoon who looked confused for a second before answering him with a shrug. Jungkook reached to his pocket and pulled out his phone. “I’ll show you.” He typed the right words into YouTube and passed (Y/N) his phone. As soon as she looked at the moving screen she nodded in realisation.

“Ah, fencer.”

“Fencer, yes.” Namjoon agreed. (Y/N) skimmed through the video listening to Jungkook’s clear and beautiful vocals in the cover of BIGBANG’s If You.

“Woah, this is good.” She said, looking up at him.

“Thank you.” He accepted the compliment as she passed the phone back to him.

“You know what you will have?” Hoseok asked.

“What I’ll be dressed in? Yeah, I’m singing Beauty and the Beast, so I’ll be a princess.”

“Ah, cute.” Seokjin called out with a chuckle as (Y/N)’s phone buzzed once more.

“Ah, I really have to go.” She sighed deeply as the boys whined at her early leave. “I have to get myself intact before going to the studio.” She said gesturing to her laid back outfit. Since she was meeting Jungkook earlier for dance practice she was wearing a pair of branded sneakers, high waisted sweatpants and a hoodie - an outfit most of the boys in the room thought of as very pretty, but to her it was just workout gear.

“Do you need a ride?” Jungkook asked, all of a sudden realising she drove here with them and might not have a ride back to her hotel, but (Y/N) shook her head.

“No, my security is already parked outside.” The boys nodded at the professional sound of that statement. She was an A list celebrity after all and couldn’t just run around town by herself.

Everyone stood up from the table as (Y/N) slipped on her shoes and jacket.

“It was so nice to see you again.” Namjoon started as (Y/N) turned towards them before going out the door of the private dining room. She smiled sincerely and swung her backpack onto her shoulder.

“I’m so glad we got to hang out.” She looked at them with a shine in her eyes before going in for a hug with each of them. “And that we got to dance.” She added stopping in front of Jungkook. He smiled and chuckled as she hugged him goodbye.

“Yes. Me too.”

The group exchanged a couple more words of goodbye before (Y/N) walked towards the sliding door. As she was about to close it behind herself she slipped her face mask down and smiled at the group once more.

“Hopefully that’s not the last I see of you.” She added and the boys erupted with negating statements and chuckles.

[ladydarklord]

The Mighty Boosh on the business of being silly

The Times, November 15 2008

What began as a cult cocktail of daft poems, surreal characters and fantastical storylines has turned into the comedy juggernaut that is the Mighty Boosh. Janice Turner hangs out with creators Noel Fielding, Julian Barratt and the extended Boosh family to discuss the serious business of being silly

In the thin drizzle of a Monday night in Sheffield, a crowd of young women are waiting for the Mighty Boosh or, more precisely, one half of it. Big-boned Yorkshire lasses, jacketless and unshivering despite the autumn nip, they look ready to devour the object of their desire, the fey, androgynous Noel Fielding, if he puts a lamé boot outside the stage door. “Ooh, I do love a man in eyeliner,” sighs Natalie from Rotherham. She’ll be throwing sickies at work to see the Boosh show 13 times on their tour, plus attend the Boosh after-show parties and Boosh book signings. “My life is dead dull without them,” she says.

Nearby, mobiles primed, a pair of sixth-formers trade favourite Boosh lines. “What is your name?” asks Jessica. “I go by many names, sir,” Victoria replies portentously. A prison warden called Davena survives long days with high-security villains intoning, “It’s an outrage!” in the gravelly voice of Boosh character Tony Harrison, a being whose head is a testicle.

Apart from Fielding, what they all love most about the Boosh is that half their mates don’t get it. They see a bloke in a gorilla suit, a shaman called Naboo, silly rhymes about soup, stories involving shipwrecked men seducing coconuts “and they’re like, ‘This is bloody rubbish,’” says Jessica. “So you feel special because you do get it. You’re part of a club.”

Except the Mighty Boosh club is now more like a movement. What began as an Edinburgh fringe show starring Fielding and his partner Julian Barratt and later became an obscure BBC3 series has grown into a box-set flogging, mega-merchandising, 80-date touring Boosh inc. There was a Boosh festival last summer, now talk of a Boosh movie and Boosh in America. An impasse seems to have been reached: either the Boosh will expand globally or, like other mass comedy cults before it – Vic and Bob, Newman and Baddiel – slowly begin to deflate.

But for the moment, the fans still wait in the rain for heroes who’ve already left the building. I find the Boosh gang gathered in their hotel bar, high on post-gig adrenalin. Barratt, blokishly handsome with his ring-master moustache, if a tad paunchy these days, blends in with the crew. But Fielding is never truly “off”. All day he has been channelling A Clockwork Orange in thick black eyeliner (now smudged into panda rings) and a bowler hat, which he wears with polka-dot leggings, gold boots and a long, neon-green fur-collared PVC trenchcoat. He has, as those women outside put it, “something about him”: a carefully-wrought rock-god danger mixed with an amiable sweetness. Sexy yet approachable. Which is why, perched on a barstool, is a great slab of security called Danny.

“He stops people getting in our faces,” says Fielding. “He does massive stars like P. Diddy and Madonna and he says that considering how we’re viewed in the media as a cult phenomenon, we get much more attention in the street than, say, Girls Aloud. Danny says we’re on the same level as Russell Brand, who can’t walk from the door to the car without ten people speaking to him.”

This barometer of fame appears to fascinate and thrill Fielding. Although he complains he can’t eat dinner with his girlfriend (Dee Plume from the band Robots in Disguise) unmolested, he parties hard and publicly with paparazzi-magnets like Courtney Love and Amy Winehouse. He claims he’s tried wearing a baseball cap but fans still recognise him. Hearing this, Julian Barratt smiles wryly: “Noel is never going to dress down.”

It is clear on meeting them that their Boosh characters Vince Noir (Fielding), the narcissistic extrovert, and Howard Moon (Barratt), the serious, socially awkward jazz obsessive, are comic exaggerations of their own personalities. At the afternoon photo shoot, Fielding breaks free of the hair and make-up lady, sprays most of a can of Elnett on to his Bolan feather-cut and teases it to his satisfaction. Very Vince. “It is an art-life crossover,” says Barratt.

At 40, five years older than Fielding, Barratt exhibits the profound weariness of a man trying to balance a five-month national tour with new-fatherhood. After every Saturday night show he returns home to his 18-month-old twins, Arthur and Walter, and his partner Julia Davis (the creator-star of Nighty Night) and today he was up at 5am pushing a pram on Hampstead Heath before taking the train north to rejoin the Boosh. “I go back so the boys remember who I am. But it’s harder to leave them every time,” he says. “It is totally schizophrenic, totally opposite mental states: all this self-obsession and then them.”

About two nights a week on tour, Fielding doesn’t go to bed, parties through the night and performs the next evening having not slept at all. Barratt often retreats to his room to plough through box sets of The Wire. “It’s a bit gritty, but that is in itself an escape, because what we do is so fantastical.”

But mostly it is hard to resist the instant party provided by a large cast, crew and band. Indeed, drinking with them, it appears Fielding and Barratt are but the most famous members of a close collective of artists, musicians and old mates. Fielding’s brother Michael, who previously worked in a bowling alley, plays Naboo the shaman. “He is late every single day,” complains Noel. “He’s mad and useless, but I’m quite protective of him, quite parental.” Michael is always arguing with Bollo the gorilla, aka Fielding’s best mate, Dave Brown, a graphic artist relieved to remove his costume – “It’s so hot in there I fear I may never father children” – to design the Boosh book. One of the lighting crew worked as male nanny to Barratt’s twins and was in Michael’s class at school: “The first time I met you,” he says to Noel, “you gave me a dead arm.” “You were 9,” Fielding replies. “And you were messing with my stuff.”

This gang aren’t hangers-on but the wellspring of the Boosh’s originality and its strange, homespun, degree-show aesthetic: a character called Mr Susan is made out of chamois leathers, the Hitcher has a giant Polo Mint for an eye. When they need a tour poster they ignore the promoter’s suggestions and call in their old mate, Nige.

Fielding and Barratt met ten years ago at a comedy night in a North London pub. The former had just left Croydon Art College, the latter had dropped out of an American Studies degree at Reading to try stand-up, although he was so terrified at his first gig that he ran off stage and had to be dragged back by the compere.

While superficially different, their childhoods have a common theme: both had artistic, bohemian parents who exercised benign neglect. Fielding’s folks were only 17 when he was born: “They were just kids really. Hippies. Though more into Black Sabbath and Led Zep. There were lots of parties and crazy times. They loved dressing up. And there was a big gap between me and my brother – about nine years – so I was an only child for a long time, hanging out with them, lots of weird stuff going on.

“The great thing about my mum and dad is they let me do anything I wanted as a kid as long as I wasn’t misbehaving. I could eat and go to bed when I liked. I used to spend a lot of time drawing and painting and reading. In my own world, I guess.”

Growing up in Mitcham, South London, his father was a postmaster, while his mother now works for the Home Office. Work was merely the means to fund a good time. “When your dad is into David Bowie, how do you rebel against that? You can’t really. They come to all the gigs. They’ve been in America for the past three weeks. I’m ringing my mum really excited because we’re hanging out with Jim Sheridan, who directed In the Name of the Father, and the Edge from U2, and she said, ‘We’re hanging with Jack White,’ whom they met through a friend of mine. Trumped again!”

Barratt’s father was a Leeds art teacher, his mother an artist later turned businesswoman. “Dad was a bit more strict and academic. Mum would let me do anything I wanted, didn’t mind whether I went to school.” Through his father he became obsessed with Monty Python, went to jazz and Spike Milligan gigs, learnt about sex from his dad’s leatherbound volumes of Penthouse.

Barratt joined bands and assumed he would become a musician (he does all the Boosh’s musical arrangements); Fielding hoped to become an artist (he designed the Boosh book cover and throughout our interview sketches obsessively). Instead they threw their talents into comedy. Barratt: “It is a great means of getting your ideas over instantly.” Fielding: “Yes, it is quite punk in that way.”

Their 1998 Edinburgh Fringe show called The Mighty Boosh was named, obscurely, after a friend’s description of Michael Fielding’s huge childhood Afro: “A mighty bush.” While their double-act banter has an old-fashioned dynamic, redolent of Morecambe and Wise, the show threw in weird characters and a fantasy storyline in which they played a pair of zookeepers. They are very serious about their influences. “Magritte, Rousseau...” says Fielding. “I like Rousseau’s made-up worlds: his jungle has all the things you’d want in a jungle, even though he’d never been in one so it was an imaginary place.”

Eclectic, weird and, crucially, unprepared to compromise their aesthetic sensibilities, it was 2004 before, championed by Steve Coogan’s Baby Cow production company, their first series aired on BBC3. Through repeats and DVD sales the second series, in which the pair have left the zoo and are living above Naboo’s shop, found a bigger audience. Last year the first episode of series three had one million viewers. But perhaps the Boosh’s true breakthrough into mainstream came in June when George Bush visited Belfast and a child presented him with a plant labelled “The Mighty Bush”. Assuming it was a tribute to his greatness, the president proudly displayed it for the cameras, while the rest of Britain tittered.

A Boosh audience these days is quite a mix. In Sheffield the front row is rammed with teenage indie girls, heavy on the eyeliner, who fancy Fielding. But there are children, too: my own sons can recite whole “crimps” (the Boosh’s silly, very English version of rap) word for word. And there are older, respectable types who, when I interview them, all apologise for having such boring jobs. They’re accountants, IT workers, human resources officers and civil servants. But probe deeper and you find ten years ago they excelled at art A level or played in a band, and now puzzle how their lives turned out so square. For them, the Boosh embody their former dreams. And their DIY comedy, shambolic air, the slightly crap costumes, the melding of fantasy with the everyday, feels like something they could still knock up at home.

Indeed, many fans come to gigs in costume. At the Mighty Boosh Festival 15,000 people came dressed up to watch bands and absurdity in a Kent field. And in Sheffield I meet a father-and-son combo dressed as Howard Moon and Bob Fossil – general manager of the zoo – plus a gang of thirty-something parents elaborately attired as Crack Fox, Spirit of Jazz, a granny called Nanageddon, and Amy Housemouse. “I love the Boosh because it’s total escapism,” says Laura Hargreaves, an employment manager dressed as an Electro Fairy. “It’s not all perfect and people these days worry too much that things aren’t perfect. It’s just pure fun.”

But how to retain that appealingly amateur art-school quality now that the Boosh is a mega comedy brand? Noel Fielding is adamant that they haven’t grown cynical, that The Mighty Book of Boosh was a long-term project, not a money-spinner chucked out for Christmas: “There is a lot of heart in what we do,” he says. Barratt adds: “It’s been hard this year to do everything we’ve wanted, to a standard we’re proud of... Which is why we’re worn to shreds.”

Comedy is most powerful in intimate spaces, but the Boosh show, with its huge set, requires major venues. “We’ve lost money every day on the tour,” says Fielding. “The crew and the props and what it costs to take them on the road – it’s ridiculous. Small gigs would lose millions of pounds.”

The live show is a kind of Mighty Boosh panto, with old favourites – Bob Fossil, Bollo, Tony Harrison, etc – coming on to cheers of recognition. But it lacks the escapism to the perfectly conceived world of the TV show. They have told the BBC they don’t want a fourth series: they want a movie. They would also, as with Little Britain USA, like a crack at the States, where they run on BBC America. Clearly the Boosh needs to keep evolving or it will die.

Already other artists are telling Fielding and Barratt to make their money now: “They say this is our time, which is quite frightening.” I recall Vic Reeves and Bob Mortimer, who dominated the Nineties with Big Night Out and Shooting Stars. “Yes, they were massive,” says Fielding. “A number one record...” And now Reeves presents Brainiac. “If you have longer-term goals, it’s not scary,” says Barratt. “To me, I’m heading somewhere else – to direct, make films, write stuff – and at the moment it’s all gone mental. I’m sort of enjoying this as an outsider. It was Noel who had this desire to reach more people.”

Indeed, the old cliché that comedy is the new rock’n’roll is closest to being realised in Noel Fielding. Watching him perform the thrash metal numbers in the Boosh live show, he is half ironic comic performer, half frustrated rock god. His heroes weren’t comics but androgynous musicians: Jagger, Bowie, Syd Barrett. (Although he liked Peter Cook’s style and looks.)

“I like clothes and make-up, I like the transformation,” he says. Does it puzzle him that women find this so sexually attractive? “I was reading a book the other day about the New York Dolls and David Johansen was saying that none of them were gay or even bisexual, and that when they started dressing in stilettos and leather pants, women got it straight away with no explanation. But a lot of men had problems. It’s one of those strange things. A man will go, ‘You f***ing queer.’ And you just think, ‘Well, your girlfriend fancies me.’”

The Boosh stopped signing autographs outside stage doors when it started taking two hours a night. At recent book signings up to 1,500 people have shown up, some sleeping overnight in the queue. And on this tour, the Boosh took control of the after-show parties, once run as money-spinners by the promoters, and now show up in person to do DJ slots. I ask if they like to meet their fans, and they laugh nervously.

Fielding: “We have to be behind a fence.”

Barratt: “They try to rip your clothes off your body.”

Fielding: “The other day my girlfriend gave me this ring. And, doing the rock numbers at the end, I held out my hands and the crowd just ripped it off.”

Barratt: “I see it as a thing which is going to go away. A moment when people are really excited about you. And it can’t last.”

He recalls a man in York grabbing him for a photo, saying, “I’d love to be you, it must be so amazing.” And Barratt says he thought, “Yes, it is. But all the while I was trying to duck into this doorway to avoid the next person.” He’s trying to enjoy the Boosh’s moment, knows it will pass, but all the same?

In the hotel bar, a young woman fan has dodged past Danny and comes brazenly over to Fielding. Head cocked attentively like a glossy bird, he chats, signs various items, submits to photos, speaks to her mate on her phone. The rest of the Boosh crew eye her steelily. They know how it will end. “You have five minutes then you go,” hisses one. “I feel really stupid now,” says the girl. It is hard not to squirm at the awful obeisance of fandom. But still she milks the encounter, demands Fielding come outside to meet her friend. When he demurs she is outraged, and Danny intercedes. Fielding returns to his seat slightly unsettled. “What more does she want?” he mutters, reaching for his wine glass. “A skin sample?”

[slothgiirl]

the trash pile: alex turner x reader

The cybernetic augmentation juts out from her temple, leading down to her chin, the metal a dull grey. Nothing says belter more than slap job augmentations, Alex thinks as she smiles at him, reaching out with her hand to him.

He takes it.

She's pretty from what he can see from the dim yellow lights in the club. The augmentation somehow complementing her already well formed cheekbones. A mess of bleached blonde hair falling down her shoulders.

And she's already offered, dragging him out onto the floor shamelessly. He'd rather dance with a beautiful woman than stand around drinking and having to listen to all his friends talk about people, things, he's unfamiliar with.

They've moved on.

The floor flashes bright blue to the beat of the music. Too loud to carry a conversation. Too loud to think. Alex can finally stop overthinking, what he's done since he landed on Tranquility base six hours ago.

Her touch is solid and confident, hands on his shoulders as she laughs, one hundred percent in the moment. He doesn't think he's ever been like that. Her ease is as natural as Alexa's charm.

His gaze flickers back to the table they'd been sharing, but they've dispersed into the club. He can't see a trace of any of his friends. Matt had long since left, having a ceremony to wake up for. "Tomorrow," he'd grinned, promising a night of debauchery.

"Hey," Taylor calls into his ear, bringing his attention back to her, blue eyes like the sky back on earth. None of the gaudy recreations of sky broadcasted through the colonies. Mars was said to not even bother, letting it's people grow up with an orange sky.

She smiles, tilting her head, before leaning in.

And wow, Alex really has been alone for too long, as her lips on his send his heart beat into a frenzy. Blood rushing in his ears like a teenage boy all over again. It isn't real, but he thinks in that second he loves her.

Alex always has been a romantic.

They leave the club together. The corridors are still red for the night. The one thing he hadn't missed. Even Ceres had better artificial lighting mods.

"I've got to go to work," Taylor tells him bluntly, "but you should give me your number. I think we could have a lot of fun together." She looks at him with hopeful eyes, biting her lower lip. He wants to kiss her again.

But, he'll be gone the day after tomorrow. The entire base holds too many ghosts for him to feel entirely comfortable. It makes him keep looking over his shoulder, expecting Josh or Julian. Two people he's long since lost touch with.

"I'm actually not staying that long," he admits as she leads them through the corridors. Alex can still recognize the alcoves he and Matt would take smoke breaks in. Which turn would lead them back to the lifts. Another life.

"That's a shame."

He chuckles. Before his mind catches up with his tongue, "wait, did you say you're going to work now?"

"Yeah. Its so fucking boring," Taylor says, stopping besides the lifts. "Coms graveyard shift." She rolls her eyes.

"I don't blame ya," he admits. Alexa had worked the coms. She'd always complained about having to go thirty seven floors below, bundled up in jackets. Since it was less populated, the government enacted more energy saving features.

"Maybe we'll see each other again in the drift," she grins suggestively, right as she steps into the lift.

Alex watches the doors closed, before he turns around, deciding to go find an open store. He could go for some more coffee while he's here. Maybe even stock up on it. It shouldn't be hard. The Base wasn't a residential area. Tourists were coming and going as well as SFN members.

There was the launchpad.

He lets himself wander. Too buzzed to be as tired despite the early call time he has in the morning. It would be just his luck to miss Matt's big promotion because he'd overslept after having traveled a month to be here.

It's not hard to find an open bodega. The open sign flashing green in the dim of the night.

Maybe he should've gotten the night vision implants after all. Miles never shut up about it. How easy it was to make his way about different colonies even during night cycles. And you could only tell if you were looking for the little silver ring around the iris.

Alex slips inside, making a bee line for the food. It's been hours since he last ate. At this point a cup of noodles and instant coffee sound like a dream. He gets the little powdered donuts as well. Then goes for the liquid milk creamer.

Who knows when he'll next have that option. No one had yet to figure out how to increase cows milk production in space. And powdered never tasted the same.

He looks at the fruit. Incredibly overpriced since it's a bodega. But apples and oranges. . .Alex could still remember the taste of fresh squeezed orange juice his mother would make. She'd cut them all open, let him squeeze the juice out before sucking on the pulp.

Alex grabs the smallest oranges.

There's no reason not to splurge. He has the money for it. And work is never hard to come by with his skill set. There's a large market for the skills SFN ensigns have, but most of those ensigns just stay with the navy.

He turns to go pay for his small haul, but the sight of a woman staring out of a faux porthole stops him in his tracks.

Her profile could not hide how beautiful she was, her gaze caught by the live feed of the earth on the other side of the moon. Romantic dark eyes gazing into the side of the bodega, her questionable egg salad sandwich forgotten in her hand. The bump in her prominent nose only served to make her profile more striking.

"That's not actually the earth," Alex starts gently, catching her attention. "Ya know." She turns to him, trying to hide the fact that she'd jumped, startled by his presence. And doing a damn good job at brushing off the surprise.

He was right. She's beautiful. Well formed full lips. Her dark hair tucked a braid, looking better in trousers and patched up hoodie than most people could dressed to the nines. Her shoes stick out from the casual ensemble, patent red leather with a split toe. There's the hint of dark circles under her eyes, probably from a missed nights sleep.

And a scattering of light scars like stars by her left cheekbone.

"I know," she responds, "I just never thought I'd ever be this close to the earth."

"You could take a trip to the other side and see the real thing," he muses, unable to hide the longing in his voice. Alex knew in his bones he'd never step foot on earth again. Never walk the streets in Sheffield or London again. But he couldn't help but wish for a miracle.

She shakes her head, the warmth in her eyes receding as she closes herself off. "Can't. Have to meet with a friend and then go back."

"Must be a good friend if you've come all this way."

She shrugs noncommittally, "He's more of an acquaintance of a friend. I've never actually met the man. But things being as they are," she explains, "it's best done in person."

Alex is now intrigued, a red flag raised in the back of his mind that still flies away information happening in the corner of his eye just in case. It makes him a damn good private investigator. "Mysterious."

"Forgive me for not spilling all my secrets to a stranger," she notes, arching a brow.

He can't help but chuckle. "Ya got me there love. Let's try something else."

"Like what," she asks, the corners of his lips turning up.

"How are you finding our moon?" The moon might not think it was the earth's, and the government sure wasn't, but the moon still spun around the earth the way it had for millions of years.

"Disappointing," she admits, frowning, "Ceres is livelier. And would it kill them to use brighter lighting?"

"Austerity measures," Alex shrugs. It had been the answer for as long as he'd been alive.

"From what," she asks, tilting her head, a smirk forming on her lips, "there's no war or reason for shortages."

"Just repeating the party line," he admits.

"Well," she raises her sandwich like a sad little white flag, "I've got to get going. It was nice meeting you."

"Can I get your number?"

Surprising him, she shakes her head, "No. I doubt we'll ever meet again. I don't plan to stay on the moon for long."

"Lucky for you," he counters, following her to the sales woman, built like a rugby player, "I'm not from the moon. So there's hope yet for our paths to cross."

She snorts, digging around her pockets for money, slowly building up a pile of change to pay with. "Let me guess," she says knowingly, as her eyes look him over, taking in his hair now curling past his ears, the navy blue sweater and white shirt combo that had felt smart earlier but had wrinkled in the course of the night. "you're from earth."

Alex answers bashfully, "born there." He always felt like apologizing for having been born on Earth. For having spent his childhood breathing in air without a care. For not knowing how precious an atmosphere was.

"Well I don't plan to go to earth," she trails off, waving her receipt away.

"Neither do I." He hands the lady a bill too large for what he's bought and follows her out the door, not bothering for his change. "But I take it there's no way I can convince you to give me a number?"

"None."

"How about a name," he offers. Alex had not seen one person that he'd bothered to chase in years. And here she was, indulging him as though he was a stray puppy she had fed once and now followed her around in hopes of more scraps.

"Yours first," she snipes back, not missing a beat.

"Alex." He doesn't ever bring up his last name. Too much weight. A famous family. And an infamous past. Being just Alex was a luxury.

"Tisiphone."

A name fitting for someone born in the jovian system. Maybe even Dione. But Dione, while a newer colony, wasn't bloody awful for someone to want to leave. It had to be-"Titian," he guesses. The wild west of space. SFN cadets hated getting assigned there. Johanna had said the worst part was the perpetual twilight.

Too many crevices to hide in.

"Yes," she responds, "and hopefully never again."

"If we ever meet again," the romantic in him already imagining them crossing paths in a Callisto settlement, planting trees for the rest of their lives and learning to work wood, "can I take you out for a cuppa?"

Tisiphone laughs, smiling tight lipped, "If it happens then I'll say yes earth boy."

** ** ch 2

The ceremony drags on.

They all sit, gathered around the Kennedy Hab, the first large permanent building on the dark side of the moon. The benches are as uncomfortable as ever, as Alex gazes down at a sea of navy uniforms all with various ranks on their right shoulders. He's seated right next to Alexa. The boys down there somewhere with Matt.

It's an SFN event so Alex's paranoia is right for once. The second glances the captains and commanders threw his way were knowing. They recognized him.

It sets his teeth on edge.

Alexa pats his knee, comfortable around him despite their shared history. Johanna besides him with her fiancé. They both keep glancing at each other, infinite in their whispering. He wants that.

"I'll throw hands at anyone who says anything," Alexa reassured him. Looking especially nice in a long red dress. She's not single. But it clearly isn't serious enough if she didn't bring him along to celebrate her friends.

"That would make it worse," Alex responds, keeping his gaze forward, careful to keep his face neutral. It usually wasn't a problem. That being his default expression. But this was bringing up events from his past he's long since buried.

"Derek was supposed to be here," Alexa says to try to distract him, "you would've liked him. Life of the party. Miles and him had a one night stand and now we're all friends."

"Well that's not saying much considering Miles will sleep with anything."

She laughs, "True. But even Nick gets jazzed to hang out with him and you know how hard it is to get close to Nick."

"He's just careful about who his friends are," Alex acknowledges. Unlike Nick, Alex was just terribly bad at opening up.

Nick was just picky. "That says something good about little old me." Alexa twirls her hands over her head. Sticking her nose in the air. "Not such a mess after all."

"You've never been a mess," he tells her, watching as they begin to call up all the newly minted commanders. Matt shouldn't take long. H being closer to the front of the alphabet.

"Yeah but I've never been particularly good at anything but charming my way into things," she shrugs shamelessly. Alexa wasn't the type to lose sleep over her insecurities.

The Admiral present at the ceremony, Marcus Kapoor, speaks clearly over the microphone, "Commander Matthew Helders."

Alexa and Johanna both stand up, yelling, "congrats!" Alex claps as loud as he can for a beat longer than the rest of the room as Matt shakes hands with the Admiral.

Alex remembers his own ceremony seven years ago now. It had been a smaller affair. His entire career accelerated by his talent.

He swallows back the bitter lump that forms in his throat. There's no reason to cry over spilled milk, his father had often told him back on earth.

Try telling that to anyone who doesn't live on earth: most milk is powdered in space.

He finally lets his eyes search through the crowd, trying to spy the man who'd once been his great mentor and friend. But if Julian is present, Alex doesn't see him among the uniforms. He's sure that he'd know Julian anywhere. His hair perpetually sticking out wildly like he'd just woken from a nap, streaks of color running through.

It was a welcome sight from the mandated navy and neutral colors the SFN preferred. Everything was done to keep the SFN neutral, trying to avoid any conflicts between the colonies. And especially between Mars and Earth.

Unable to wait, Alex asks Alexa, "did Julian come?" Julian and Matt had never been as close as Alex had been to the older man, one of the rare people to turn down a promotion. But Alex thinks Julian still would've come and cheered Matt on.

Drinking at bars until morning talking about life and chatting about their mutual obsession with vintage terran music cemented friendship like nothing else.

She frowns, lines forming between her brows. "Captain Casablancas?"

"Yeah," Alex nods, a nervousness creeping into the lining of his stomach. Julian had also been the only person present during the incident that had chosen not to testify. If he had, Alex had agonized long hours over that large IF, he'd probably have been given a far harsher sentence.

And it looked like the man had finally accepted the rank of Captain.

Alexa places her hand on his arm, doe eyes settling on his, before gently attempting to break the news, which given what she was saying, was impossible to break gently. "You haven't heard?"

"No."

"Julian's dead Alex," Alexa explains, her hand anchoring him to reality, even as his world lurches, "some accident with a faulty seal."

Fuck.

What the bloody hell!

Alex clenches his jaw. Julian deserved more than dying in a preventable accident. He was, and remained the only person to have jumped tracks at the SFN, going from maintenance to exploration.

"I'm sorry," she tries, patting his arm with her hand. "I know you two were close. This is sort of the worst way to hear the news isn't it?"

"How long ago," Alex asks in lieu of responding to her. Julian. Alex could hardly call him a friend anymore.

By the time he'd worked up the courage to message the man, Julian hadn't bothered responding at all. A cold message that Alex could understand.

He hadn't tried to contact him again.

"Three weeks."

Alex nods, fixing his gaze on the stage. The names being spoken, called up on stage, meaningless now that Matt had gone.

He'd been traveling to the Base.

No one had bothered to tell him.

They make their way down to Matt, navigating the crowd who are also here to celebrate their relatives and friends. Alexa led the way, cutting through the crowd like a knife through butter.

Jo and her fiancé hold hands. His eyes never leave her form as she leads on.

Alex frowns.

He'd thought. . .he'd thought, when Matt had first met him upon arrival at the base's landing pad, that he could slide back into his old life. Pick up where he'd left off. Maybe get a job here permanently.

Alex hadn't realized how lonely he'd been until he'd sat around and watched all his friends eat and drink. Easily communicating with each other they way only tightly knit groups of friends could. Finishing each other's sentences.

They had once been like that with Alex. But years in between meetings left him out of the loop. It didn't help that he had chosen to self isolate. Choosing to take jobs that left him without a permanent home, spending his free time tucked into various hotel rooms.

"Alexander Turner," a voice calls out.

He turns, faced with a black woman in a sleek khaki green suit, a moon police officer uniform. Her hair is as sleek as the press of her suit. Dark curls dusted with grey hairs.

"Yes," he asks, halting with great hesitation. The last time he'd dealt with the moon police, they were ensuring he was under house arrest during his trial. For his safety they'd told him over and over.

"I'm Major Gabriela Moss," she tells him, sticking her hand out with great formality. "If you'd please come with me," she continues, as he shakes her hand. "There's a job I'd like to discuss with you."

Swallowing any nervousness he has, he nods. How bad could it be? Probably some white collar crime that the police don't want to deal with. Alex could stock up on lots of coffee with the money. "Lead the way."

She takes him to the precinct, located next to the base. Tranquility Base fell under SFN jurisdiction. But the residential areas ringing the building were left to the MP 505 precinct.

Her office is just like every other police office. Bright disorienting lights. Cream walls, with no decor. A desk bolted down to the floor, in case the artificial gravity malfunctions. And a photo of her wife and kids tilted just out of his view.

"What's the job?" Alex wonders if some idiot tried to rob the casino that was right within the base’s building. Trying to steal from SFN was asking for it.

"A man was found murdered in residential bloc 571 this morning," she explains, lighting up her monitor. A photo of an older man with a walrus mustache came up on the screen.

"Isn't homicide your department," Alex asks, twisting his ring around his finger.

"Usually," Major Moss admits, back straight, hands on the desk. "But this man had a false identification bracelet. According to our records he was born on the Moon. But when my officers requested his file from the Bloc listed, nothing appeared."

"You think he was hiding?" Only criminals bothered to falsify ID bands. But why the moon? He could see why a fugitive from the law or a crime boss would come to the moon, but to stay here this long?

Even earth was easier to get lost in, among billions.

"Yes," she surmises, "and for quite a few months. How he's gone undetected this long is a mystery."

"So you'd like to save your skin and sweep this all under the cover." Alex can see a coverup as it happens. The MPs would be humiliated at having let a fugitive run wild for this long.

But, he probably wasn't a criminal if he spent this long without so much as a word. Probably fleeing loan sharks back on some asteroid. Maybe from Titan.

The murder must have landed yesterday. Within the week at most.

"Will you take the job on," Major Moss asks, "there's more information I have if you agree to take on the case."

Alex sighs. He's intrigued. But taking on this case would mean spending more time on the moon which is both a good and bad thing. He hasn't had a proper chat with any of the lads since he last saw Matt on Vesta nearly two years ago now.

But he isn't exactly at ease this close to SFN. At least in the belt, there's lots of stations with little to no navy presence. Callisto's base was generally isolated from the rest of the population due to the way in which the colony on Callisto had developed.

A man's dead.

And from what he can tell, Major Moss would be more than happy for the case to go cold and never have to explain to her superiors how a man went undetected for so long.

But why bother?

Alex can't understand why the man needed to falsify his identity only to sit around. Unless he wasn't a criminal but innocently caught up with the wrong crowd.

It happened easily enough.

"Why me," Alex asked, still considering how suspicious it looked that the MP were giving away a case just because of the implications the man's murder had. The IDB read Sidney Trojan which made Alex laugh a little inside. Whoever had made the ID had a certain sense of humor. "I'm sure you've read my record by now."

Major Moss nods, leaning back in her metal chair, "Mutiny and treason are certainly high charges. But Mr. Turner, If I am being frank, I am more concerned right now with keeping the peace in my precinct. The last thing I want is any belter extremist to start making baseless accusations about how someone who is more than likely one of their own was treated."

"I'm not a belter." Alex had spent enough time among belters to know, no matter how much time he spent on Vesta or Pallas, he'd never be one of them. Being born and raised there was what made you a belter for the rest of your life. Johanna never bothered to hide the augments along her spine, jutting out like filled out ports. Held her chin up proudly despite the harassment she got, and proceeded to destroy them all in combat training.

"But you have spent time among them," the woman argues, revealing how little she knows and understands about belters. Major Moss had probably never left the moon. Never spent time amongst people in the belt, in the places the SFN never went. "My men are mostly from here or earth. You're my best option."

He resists the urge to roll his eyes. It didn't seem like a trap to lock him up after all these years. Just a very ignorant MP major trying to do her job. "Alright," Alex nods. "Show me the surveillance tapes."

The older woman smiles, but no warmth reaches her eyes, a picture of cold professionalism, as she ignites the screen. The tapes start playing almost immediately. The night vision casting everything into grayscale in the corridors. The older residential buildings hadn't anticipated the amount of people that would live on the moon, the walkways connected the blocs only fitting three people at a time, a nightmare in an emergency. They were colorless concrete slabs, the metal having long gone dull.

Time stamped to 05:46 am.

A single figure appears, walking into bloc 571, looking like any person would after a long shift. In jeans and a loose hoodie, holding a very sad convenience store sandwich. A profile he wouldn't soon forget, complete with split toe boots.

Tisiphone.

Alex tries to justify her appearance. The death hadn't happened until 7 am. She must've been meeting her friend in one of the habs in the bloc. But he'd never been one to discount a coincidence.

It seemed that they would be having a chat sooner than anticipated under less than favorable circumstances. He just had to track her down.

His eyes watch the screen as the time ticks by, creeping closer to the time of death.

She claimed to be here to visit a friend which could very easily have been a lie to cover up meeting her potential victim. Tisiphone hadn't been here for very long, no one would willingly choose to eat convenience store sandwiches if they'd spent time here to get other food. Alex wasn't discounting the possibility of her commitment to looking inconspicuous at 5 in the morning, but then, if Sidney Trojan had feared for his life there would've been a struggle.

Someone would have heard in those older habs.

The time stamp reads 6:24am.

Tisiphone leaves the bloc, taking the passageway leading back to Tranquility. Mr Trojan would still be alive. Did she have an accomplice? Or is Alex making the wrong connection.

The time stamp reads 7:46 am. Mr Trojan would've been dead by now.

7 am was hardly the time for a murder to be committed. People going to work. So many witnesses. They must have been desperate. But the tapes proved useless to narrow down any suspects. Too many people, a perfect crowd to hide in. So there was that advantage. As well as, "I need all the records of the passenger manifests arriving for the last three days on the dark side of the moon and today's departures."

"Alright," she replies, holding out her hand.

Alex hands over his com. Letting her synch it up to her system and sending the files over.

"Good luck Mr. Turner."

This time, Alex does roll his eyes as he leaves her office.

Tisiphone had claimed to be from Titan, so that's the first thing he checks. Three days sound about right. He also highlights any belter arrivals. But apart from one family two days before, no one has come from the belt.

He finds the name he's looking for. Tisiphone Velazques, arriving from Hygiea the same night he had. Born on Titian twenty two years ago according to her IDB. It said a lot about how pathetic Alex was that he was currently finding a potential date on a suspect list.

She might still be innocent. But she was the only lead.

If she's a criminal, she'll be staying off grid, not wanting to leave her IDB just anywhere. But, being through, Alex checks Tranquility Hotel anyways, sending a message.

Want to surprise my girlfriend T. Velazques. It's our anniversary and I got back from a trip into Tethys four sols early. Has she checked in yet?

People were really stupid and easily fooled. Alex had learned that in the last few years.

Then he checks his messages. Twenty seven texts from his friends. Two missed calls from Matt. Shit. He'd forgotten all about Matt.

** *** ch 3

Matt clasps an arm over his shoulders, "I'm sorry I didn't say anything about Julian. I thought you knew and didn't want to talk about it."

Alex considers coming clean, but decides letting Matt think this is about Julian is easier. "No one tells me anything anymore."

The taller man sighs, "you must think I'm a wanker for not even telling you. Julian always asked me how you were doing you know."

Alex shakes his head. "I tried-It doesn't matter anymore. I just think it's bloody awful to have died so young in an accident of all things."

"The idiot engineers better have been court martialed," Matt comments, as they follow behind their friends to a bar in the casino. They've all been casting looks towards Alex when they think he's not looking, like he's a bomb about to go off.

Things can never go back to the way they were.

They get a few pitchers of beer. Singing Matts praises at every sip, taking the piss about how he's going to be the worst commander ever. Alexa's boyfriend, looking tall, dark and handsome, slips into the conversation with ease while Alex, drinks and checks his phone for a response.

"Alexa's boy toy," Johanna mutters under her breath to Alex. "Does the books for one of the gambling halls."

Alex nods. But finds he doesn't care. All that earlier anxiety about his leftover feelings for Alexa, his first love, gone when he realizes there's no sting as she turns to kiss her boyfriend.

He looks down at his com, refusing a refill of beer when he realizes the hotel's written him back. With a digital key and their congratulations. There goes the supposed privacy and protections hotels were supposed to offer their clients.

But this meant he was now leaning to Tisiphone being innocent. But he could tell she was connected to Mr. Trojan somehow. A gut feeling that t9ld him he was barking up the right tree. She might be able to tell him who would want the old man dead and why.

Alex excuses himself from the celebration, pointedly ignoring Nick's suspicious gaze as he leaves.

He stops and picks up a bottle of wine and a quart of strawberries, each the size of his smallest nail with a hint of red at the tip, just in case anyone in the hotel decides to verify any of his information. He can play the part.

Alex presses the elevator up to floor 10, brings up the key on his com, when the machine asks for verification.

The doors slide shut and Alex tries to formulate a plan.

He can't frighten his only suspect-link to the crime. A man was murdered and if he doesn't solve it, justice will never be served. It's his good conscience that's going to get him in trouble all over again.

The hallway is empty.

A tacky red coat of paint that's made worse by the orange lighting. The crimson hue edging towards black. Hardly a happy atmosphere.

Alex runs his hand over the rail, a vestige from the days before antigravity, as he makes his way to room 1004.

Unlike the lobby, the floor is still metal plates welded together. Shiny compared to the rest of the place.

The casino had seen better days.

And more occupied days.

Hesitating outside the door, he places an ear near the seal, hoping that Tisiphone isn't there. It would give her the advantage if she turns out to be the murder.

Better for her to be out. Gives him a chance to look around.

He takes a deep breath and unlocks the door with the key. It slides open smoothly, revealing mustard walls and a plush navy carpet flecked with gold. There's a small bed on one side of the wall, a black backpack laying carelessly on it.

The small cabinet looks untouched, but Alex still goes through every drawer, making sure he misses nothing, peaking into the bathroom and combing the medicine cupboard.

There's a needle and dental floss. A complimentary bottle of toothbrush tabs laying in its side.

Needle and floss.

For an injury, Alex surmises. Perhaps a fresh one that Mr Trojan had managed to inflict while defending himself? It wasn't the easiest way to treat an injury, but it was the way to go if you didn't want to draw any attention.

He slips back into the small main room, and begins to go through the backpack. It looks standard issue, the fabric a vegetable leather nylon mixture that wouldn't be out of place in an SFN pack. But he doesn't recognize it from any planetary police force.

Inside there's a plasma gun with two full charges. Shrapnel in a jar. An extra shirt along with a lined jacket, also black. And a small copper data box.

He checks the jackets pockets, finding two extra IDBs. Both blank.

It's all very incriminating.

And he didn't think to bring a gun along himself.

Alex removes the charge from the plasma gun, using the pillowcase to ensure he doesn't wipe away any fingerprints, tossing both of the charges into the bottom drawer of the cabinet. And leaves the gun on top of the blanket.

Then he takes a seat and waits.

No one would leave a gun with no plans to come back and get it. Plasma guns were hard to come by. Especially for civilians on the right side of the law.

It was just his luck that the first woman he feels any connection with, ends up tied up in criminal activity.

The whoosh of a door sliding open jolts him out of his thoughts.

Alex sits up straight, deciding he looks less confrontational if he's sitting down. Besides, years of training haven't left. His body still remembers combat maneuvers. He still wakes up at 0600 and goes through basic training like clockwork.

Even when he goes back to sleep right after.

A red boot steps inside.

Tisiphone holds a brand new pair of ear pods, still in their case. The moment she spots him sitting casually in her bed, her almond eyes narrowing in suspicion. Her grip tightens on the case, before she schools her features carefully blank.

In better lighting, the scars marring her cheekbones are more prominent. Flecks of silver against honeyed skin.

"'ello again," Alex says, giving a small wave, strands of his hair falling into his eyes with the movement.

She frowns, crossing her arms defensively in front of her. "Why are you here? Who even let you in?"

"I asked nicely," he explains, "terrible hotel service if you ask me. But as for why I'm here, you wouldn't happen to know who Sidney Trojan is?"

Tisphones lips form a tight line, her stance edging dangerously close to someone expecting a fight. Weight distributed well between her legs. "He's dead isn't he. Someone killed him."

" 'fraid so," Alex nods.

"Who do you work for?" Her eyes scrutinize him, as if waiting for him to strike.

Alex raises both his hands up in the air. "No one. The MP of the precinct where Mr. Trojan lived asked me to take the case on."

She doesn't move. "Earth then? Or some secret division of the SFN?"

It was a popular belief that the SFN held a secret military division. Especially among belters and martians.

"You don't seem surprised to hear he's been murdered," Alex observes, not missing a thing, trying to steer the conversation back on track.

"Lots of people wanted him dead."

Tisiphone must have decided he wasn't a threat. She takes a step closer, waking into the bathroom and grabbing the meager supplies, tossing them into her bag, unbothered by Alex's presence right next to her. He's incredibly aware of the small distance between them as her hands make quick work of packing, ignoring the wine and fruit he'd brought: the small distance between her hands and his thigh.

But he doubts that there's a chance in hell she'll go out with him after today. She has the same determined look on her face Johanna had right as she'd punched him day 1 of hand to hand combat. A woman who doesn't take anyone's shit.

Alex snorts, "mind telling me who wanted him dead?"

"SFN. Earth. Mars. The Children of Prometheus. Park Vader's cronies back on Titan. Maybe even Park himself. Take your pick."

"Why," Alex can't help but ask, standing up as she slings her bag over her shoulder. If he lets her walk out now, he'll likely never set eyes on her again. And she has become his only connection to this man's murder.

He can't just let her go.

"He knew too much," Tisiphone shrugs.

"I can't just let you disappear," Alex tells her, sliding between her and the door. It was a dangerous position to be in. He keeps his hands up, trying to reassure her.

"Whoever killed Ivan is going to be after me too," she states, weighing her options.

"Let me help you."

She laughs humorlessly, "I'm long past help. I’ll only drag you down. And you seem like a nice enough man despite everything."

"Despite being born on earth," Alex guesses. War hadn't touched the system in a hundred years, yet there was a lot of bitterness from the colonies over earth. Over the imagined bountiful resources. The air, breathable unlike in so many other places.

He'd lived in enough places in the system to know that it was hard living in every corner of the solarium federation.

"Good bye Alex." Her dark eyes hold his gaze, waiting for Alex to step aside. He isn't sure how long her patience will last.

"If you leave the moon now," Alex threatens, "I'll have no choice but to find you suspect under the circumstances."

Tisiphone glares at him, "are you an officer? Am I under arrest?"

"No."

"Then you have no jurisdiction," she counters.

"But I was able to find you. I'm the only person who could've made that connection." Her shoes had given her away. Too distinctive for anyone trying to hide out, Alex notes. "Everyone else would've written you off. You played the part of a tired commuter perfectly. Your face isn't visible enough for facial recognition. And the timing is wrong."

"So you have to know I didn't kill him," Tisiphone observes.

"I do." Alex nods. "And I also know that you came here for a reason. I'm willing to bet it's why Ivan is dead now. Help me catch his killer and get some people off your back."

“Why do you care so much about him? He’s just another nameless belter to you people.”

He shakes his head, “because a man’s dead. He deserves justice.”

"How do I know I can trust you," Tisiphone asks, her knuckles relaxing their grip on her bag.

"I could've arrived here with the MP," Alex states, "but I'm here all on my own. Because I believe you're innocent."

She sighs. "Alright. I'll stay. But only for another twenty four hours. That's all I can give you."

He can work with that.

"Okay now let's get out of here. If I can waltz right in so can whoever killed Trojan."

"Ivan," Tisiphone corrects. "His name was Ivan Schlossberg."

"And is Tisiphone your real name," Alex asks.

She doesn't meet his eyes.

** ** ch 4

His hotel room is on the top floor. A half circle window looks out into the expanse. The grey panorama, flattened by robots, is broken up by the tops of other bloc, jutting out of the landscape like hills. The sun is the only recognizable feature in the sky. All the other stars and planets are too distant to be visible.

But Alex has the map of the system imprinted into the backs of his eyes. He could tell where earth and mars fall, navigating by stars like explorers of old, even with the slight changes that arise depending on where you were in the system.

Tisiphone looks out into space, eyes full of stars, as Alex interrogates her.

"Why would the UN or Mars be after Ivan?"

"I already told you," she responds evenly, her gaze still fixed on outer space, a melancholic quality that held none of the wonder people usually had when staring into the stars, "he knew too much."

"About what," Alex presses. Earlier she had named all the major players in politics. That which all SFN members despised because it made doing their job a nightmare of red tape.

Tisiphone looks over at him, turning her whole head towards him. "He was involved with the children of prometheus. Selling information. And Park doesn't like when his people decide to leave him."

It didn't take a genius to know what kind of information would be of value to the children of prometheus. "And your mutual friend."

She swallows thickly before answering. "Told me to find Ivan. That he could help me. I don't know anything more than that. Ivan was going to leave the moon with me and explain this later."

Alex doesn't believe that for a second. Tisiphone wouldn't have left so easily that morning if Ivan hadn't given her something. But he also knows when to let things go. "And why would they also be after you?" The usual targets for the children of prometheus were high ranking UN members or members of the Martian Presidium: the operating companies on the belt that treated their workers as expendable.

Tisiphone was none of those.

She takes a seat on Alex's current bed, her knuckles white as she grips the covers, studying the much more pleasant purple carpet. Not as matted or stained as the one in her room.

Her now shoeless feet revealing mismatched socks.

"I saw something I shouldn't have seen." She bites her lip as her eyes water. Alex forces himself not to look away, wanting to give her privacy. "Someone killed my friend and covered it up. And now they want to kill me."

He takes a step towards her, kneeling down in front of her seated figure, "I'm going to help you."

"You can't help me." Tisiphone shakes her head, looking straight at him, "you can only buy me time."

She flips through the stations as Alex combs through the flight records once more. He's isn't looking for random thugs. If this is a high profiled cover up the way she is alleging, then he needs to find a slicker cover.

He checks for any terrans that've landed here in the last few days. Any native mooners with no permanent address on record: the types of people that would easily fly under the recons. The least likely to be scrutinized.

Alex finds three profiles that fit the description. Two had arrived together under the IDBs Gemma and Nick Ryan. Siblings on vacation from earth.

They were passingly related, the same brown coloring. But Alex's searching gaze found no similar features. The bone structure was all wrong. Gemma's strong, squared. While Nick had a delicateness to his features that was absent in Gemma's.

They had the look of UN division operatives. A learned blankness that helped them slip from memory.

The third was on a flight from Ceres. An older asian man: Hugh Shen. There was no way he was born on the moon and had no records of living here. Alex knew most people born on the moon didn't chance leaving.

Opening for new immigrants were few and far between.

Then there was an oily quality that reminded him of many UN cogs that surrounded his mother like gnats.

In order to be sure that they are division members, Alex'll have to go to the scene of the crime. He knows the UN’s playbook. The methods that division uses. Growing up around his mother, he couldn't not have learned something.

Though Penelope Turner was an idealist, she was willing to do what was necessary to get the job done. It's why she was such an effective politician.

He coms Major Moss, letting her know he'll need access to Ivan's hab.

"Stay here," he tells Tisiphone. "Help yourself to anything I've got."

"Anything," she asks archly, "because I could run a bath. Never had one of those."

"Then by all means," he shrugs. The water bill was bound to burn a hole in his pocket, but going through life without knowing the laziness that baths inspired was no life at all.

She rolls her eyes, shamelessly combing through Alex's meager possessions As meager as hers really. Though he didn't have the excuse of being in hiding.

Alex takes the plasma charges with him.

Major Moss, along with another woman of medium build and asian descent, meets him at the entrance to bloc 571, the white paint having long since peeled off the metal walls. The orange lights flickered, needing replacement, as he walks beside her into bloc 571. He can hear the pressure seals around the door, as it slides open, letting them inside.

While the oldest blocs on this side of the moon, their shortcomings in cramped corridors were nothing compared to the space of the older habs.

Unlike Tranquility base, and the rest of the blocs on the moon, the lights inside bloc 571 were LED and white, the costliest to maintain. A knot of tension eased up in Alex's shoulders. His mind, despite the years in space, always unconsciously yearned for earth's natural light.

"This is officer Cong Xi," Major Moss says blandly, "she'll be taking you through all our available evidence. We're receiving pressure to wrap things up as quickly as possible. There are lots of people who want to move into a hub as spacious as this."

Alex snorts. That's what they cared about.

Cong nods, smiling warmly at him as she drinks coffee from her hot pink tumbler. "Nice to meet you Alex Turner."

Which meant she'd been briefed and knew all about him. There was probably a non-SFN version of his file on her com as they spoke.

Alex had never gotten the chance to read his file after the trail. His dishonorable discharge had left him without any credentials to ask for his file without heavy redaction if he got any response at all. He'd have asked his parents if he hadn't been a coward and taken the first ship to Vesta, hell bent on drinking himself to death.

"Likewise," he responds, realizing he's waited a beat too long to respond.

With that said, the Major turns on her heel, and leaves.

"Shall we," Cong asks him, waiting for him to follow. How did such a pleasant person end up working for the MP? Had to be an idealist. Or hadn't been working for long.

He nods.

Alex takes in the bloc.

The floors dull from nearly four centuries of feet walking over it. Not a scrap of white paint left. But the walls are covered with green plexiglass, an attempt to make up for the lack of actual greenery that hadn't been planned for in old models. Even Pallas had some weeds growing among the tangle of wires.

Each door is painted a different color, giving the neighborhood character. Ivan's hab is red, with a pattern of florals overlaid.

Officer Cong hands him shoe covers and a pair of gloves, "standard procedure," she tells him with a tinge of apologies interwoven in her voice, before she unlocks the door, letting them both inside.

Like most crime scenes, the place is covered with tape and plastic to preserve the integrity. But Alex can see the coziness that Ivan Schlossberg had built inside his hab. A glass top table with mismatched but colorful plastic chairs. Books covering a side table ranging from subjects like "Bloom: a guide to space plant maintenance," to "Catching Fire."

His desk is covered with bits of computer parts. Motherboards and processor chips. Different size screens, some with cracks.

This was the picture of a man who believed himself to be safe. He wasn't planning on running at the drop of a dime. So how had they found him?

Tisiphone had entered first.

Why not kill them both at once?

Or had they believed them both to be inside and cursed themselves when they realized the girl had gotten away?

As Alex looks about the room, noting no signs of struggle, Officer Cong studies him. Her gaze curious.

The mess of computer equipment makes Alex guess that Ivan tinkered with it to communicate with whatever group he was working with, likely using it to hack information from earth and mars. The rudimentary nature of his devices would have confused the much more advanced systems Earth relied on, massive data banks in the tundra chugging along. Ivan would've also had the flexibility of pulling the system apart and rebuilding it with different bits of code each time.

A waste of time, unless you were an old man with lots of time on your hands.

His collection of parts would've been written off as eccentricity.

"You can ask," Alex finally says, when he gets tired of the awkward silence.

"Are you really the mutineer?"

It was much better than being asked if he was that traitor. Particularly bitter belters had taken the liberty of making his days hell in the beginning, knowing he wasn't about to go get help from the SFN.

He nods, looking back at the door. Division wasn't above using chemical weapons. The seals on older habs built with the care of spaceships, no one outside this hab would've noticed. "The one and only," he finally says.

While there were lots of people who had problems with the SFN, it generally wasn't seen among rank and file members.

Cong hums, slurping her coffee.

Alex peels back the plastic over a particularly large pile of electronics, his eyes searching for something small, like a computer chip or drive that would be overlooked to the untrained eye. Toxic gases needn't be in large doses to pack a punch.

"I remember the trial on the net," she comments, "it was all my parents could talk about. My whole family really . . ."

A glint of copper catches his eye. Alex keeps his face neutral, letting Cong ramble on as he plays at looking at the body outline on the couch, as if he could magically find a guilty dust bunny, slipping the casing into his hand for later.

"-guess I was too young to care about that. Too caught up with boys and the latest hairstyles."

Alex nods, trying to pay attention. But with that casing, he's sure it was division. Certain mixtures created the same symptoms in the body as a heart attack. Given his age, it created the perfect cover.

But why come in and stab him after?

Who were they trying to frame-

They were after Tisiphone.

She had led them to Ivan, Alex's thoughts come together, each piece falling into place. They had watched her since she arrived. Which meant they knew she was headed to the moon, hence the two early dispatched division agents, purposely waiting for her to leave before killing Ivan, making sure she'd be the only suspect.

But their plan had gone to the pits.

They hadn't planned on Major Moss trying to burry the case. Or that Alex would be called on.

Instead of an easy frame job, it was a cold case waiting to happen. An MP officer would've just taken Tisiphone in. Assumed that the time of death was off due to some lab error and closed the case. But their plan had gone sideways.

"Find anything," Cong asks him suddenly, having given up trying to chat when it became obvious he wasn't listening. Though why he would make small talk about the event that had sliced his life into two distinct parts, he didn't have the foggiest idea.

Alex shakes his head, "thought the scene might hold a clue." He stands up straight, faking the appearance of disappointment channeling his mother's face when he'd come home with an F. "Whatever crime boss hired the hit must've hired a couple of top notch lads."

"Oh well them," Cong continues, holding up her com for him to read, "Major Moss needs us to come in. Apparently there's been a new development in the homicide."

Alex's chest tightens. God he hopes they haven't found Tisiphone dead. Or arrested her.

No. There's no way. He'd already be under arrest for harboring a criminal. No amount of goodwill would keep him out of prison this time.

Alex had to continue under the impression that she was fine. Because no one else had linked her to this case. No one had any reason to suspect her of anything at all. "Led the way then love."

Cong, like most girls (and some boys) since Alex had turned sixteen, blushes pink, before stepping around him and leading him back to the precinct--and to Major Moss's office.

The division agents who had landed on Tranquility base as siblings named Gemma and Nick, introduce themselves as, "Agents Barnes and Khan." They're already seated in front of Major Moss, only confirming Alex's conclusion.

The capsule in his pocket feels like a block of lead, weighing him down.

There's no way they know he knows.

Except they've been tailing Tisiphone since she landed. They might already know she's sitting in his room.

He needs to get off the moon. Alex had promised Tisiphone he'd keep her safe. And this case had just gotten much bigger than a homicide.

It was the type of cover up that required a neutral party to uncover. A High ranking SFN member that would do the right thing. Unfortunately Alex had learned the hard way that organizations were never as impartial and righteous as they claimed to be.

Bloody hell.

In between two impossible choices, giving Tisiphone up or calling his old mentor Vice Admiral Homme, he wasn't sure which was worse. Would Josh Homme even care?

Or was the UN's influence great enough to buy Homme's cooperation?

"I understand that Major Moss has made the mistake of handing a homicide to a private investigator," Agent Barnes says, smiling brightly as if she hadn't just flung shit at Major Moss, who to her credit, didn't even flinch.

"I'm the private investigator," Alex responds evenly.

"They've just finished informing me," Major Moss interrupts, smoothing down the lapels of her pants suit, "that they've identified the culprit."

Agent Barnes nods, then proceeds to do the very Earth thing of pulling out an actual paper file from a jacket and displaying it on the desk. "A career criminal from Titan named Tisiphone Velasquez. We believe her employer to be some drug lord that Mr Trojan was a long time customer of. When he got clean and moved to the moon, well. . ." Barnes trails off leaving a dramatic pause before clearing his throat, "Titian didn't forget his debts."

Ivan's hab was not the home of a drug user. Or a recovering drug user. He'd never been to Titan, to the city under the ocean, but he knew enough about drug lords to know that they had more to deal with than a customer with lots of debts on a colony as secure as the moon.

But Alex can see Major Moss eat up the story, her eyes gazing over as there's one less problem for her to deal with.

"Well Mr. Turner," Major Moss turns to him, "It looks like your services are no longer needed. I'll wire you the payment promptly. Meanwhile I'll circulate the perpetrators photo and have my officers be on the lookout."

"We will be taking custody of Miss Velasquez," Agent Barnes interrupts, "she has insider knowledge of a crime ring we have been monitoring for years."

"Of course," Major Moss responds, already typing out the paperwork.

He has to get off the base. He has to take Tisiphone far from here.

Alex turns to leave, reaching the door before he hears Agent Barnes mutter pointedly under her breath, "It's a wonder Ambassador Turner hasn't resigned out of shame. No clue how he can show his face in public."

Agent Khan coughs to hide a snigger.

A muscle in his jaw twitches. It's bait. And an obvious one at that. He has more than a few scars to prove how stupid responding to it would be, but they did just insult his mother.

"What did you just say," Alex asks through clenched teeth, not turning back to look at them, robbing them of the satisfaction. Mentally, he counts to ten.

He's not going to give them an excuse to place him under arrest.

Tisiphone is counting on him.

The fact that they're baiting him instead of just following him back to the hotel room is a good sign they don't know he's hiding Tisiphone. He tries to concentrate on the and not the sound of blood rushing in his ears.

Tisiphone.

Her petite figure sitting on his bed, scrutinizing everything with an arched brow. The look in her eyes as she'd stared with a refugee's longing for their ancestral home at the image of earth, the green returning to the land after hundreds of long reclamation projects initiated by the UN.

"Nothing to trouble yourself with Alexander Turner," Agent Barnes replies patronizingly, "There is no further use for your services here."

Alex clenches his jaw, and walks out the door.

He lights a cigarette as he makes his way through the dim corridors, the orange fading into scarlet, stopping only to pick up supplies he imagines needing as they travel to space together. Not all at the same store.

Alex will have to get everything out of her, if he's going to throw in his lot with her and hope they get to the bottom of the conspiracy before they're arrested and killed. Or just killed.

What could be bad enough that the UN felt it necessary to send division agents after a woman?

The problem is the IDB has been made.

He's going to have to hope she can get another one quickly. Tisiphone, whose name is more than likely not Tisiphone as all, wouldn't have survived this long is she was stupid.

Fuck.

He really should just turn her in. Or give her a heads up and be on his way. Alex could be on Pallas in four weeks, having the most questionable weed in the system, laced with the hell knows what. Take a case every now and then. Finally make his way out to Titan.

Logan had been his favorite western growing up. Right after The magnificent Seven. He'd made Matt have stand offs against him for days after seeing it, pretending he could manipulate metal. And Titan was the new wild west of space. And still people flocked out to carve their little piece of real estate.

Humanity is ever expanding.

Alex has to press the lift button twice, cursing and lighting another cigarette when the lift's lighting system dies as he ascends up, connecting with Tranquility's passageways.

More than once, he has to stop himself from glancing over his shoulder, sure he'll see an Agent following him. Hugh Shen had been absent from their little meeting. But that didn't mean he wasn't still skulking about.

Even the air changes from the corridors to the base. It's drastic compared to Ceres where the air quality is shit everywhere you go. The base has crisp clean air that didn't leave you all cotton mouthed for the wrong reasons.

From there it's easy enough to head to his room. Alex is already flicking through the net, looking for tickets to the belt. Or maybe they should go to Callisto. It was famous for being a no extradition zone: refusing to acknowledge any authority other than theirs and SFN's by extension. The relative safety was tempting, but he couldn't plan until Tisiphone told him everything she knew.

Alex wasn't stupid enough to think she wasn't holding something back. Her earlier explanation had been as vague as she could manage given the circumstances. He had no clue who her friend was. What she had seen other than a wrongful death.

There had to be a reason behind the coverup after all.

No government went around coverup murder for no reason. It just wasn't economical.

"You have to tell me everything you know," Alex tells Tisiphone in what he hopes is a commanding voice, as he tosses his bags on the bed, plopping down. His only shortcoming as a commander had been the complete and utter lack of confidence he had when giving orders. "Division has just shown up and thrown you under the bus."

Tisiphone's hair hangs down, damp as she listlessly scrolls through the catalogue of music offered by the hotel. She flinches at his words. "I should've left when I had the chance," she tells him harshly, uncurling from the settee and moving to grab her things. She jams her feet into her boots in one swift motion, clearly having been ready to make a run for it at a moment's notice.

"You're right," Alex tries, taking out the gas casing, ensuring the glint of metal catches her eyes. "It's a coverup."

"Obviously," Tisiphone scowls.

"I'm sure they've circulated your IDB by now," he continues, "they wanted to frame you for Ivan's death. I want to know what you saw so I can help you."

"Why so they can kill you as well," Tisiphone shakes her head, "No. . .no."

"What's so important that Division would risk breaking the treaty of Schiaparelli for," Alex asks, rubbing his temples. He wasn't a politician. The inner workings of government fell to the wayside of his thoughts.

There had been no major battles fought in a hundred years but relations between colonies were always fraught with tension over resources. Those skirmishes were usually fought in the Solarium Federations regulatory body, but Alex wasn't naive enough to discount the darker talk of division--their tendency to enhanced interrogation.

"Why do you want to help me so badly," Tisiphone counters, hands on her hip, glaring down at him as if he was the reason that Division had found her at all.

"Someone should," Alex shrugs, peering up at her. The line of her body fell naturally into a defensive stance, something that could only be so natural if she'd started training when she was very young. Tisiphone wasn't an innocent civilian, but she still didn't deserve to be disposed of. "And if I don't, they'll probably kill you and throw your body in some incinerator."

"Or they'll kill us both," Tisiphone replies archly.

"I'm offering you my help if you want it."

She peers down her nose at him, her lips pressed into a flat line, the slim line of her jaw fitting in perfectly with her feline features: a cat deciding if batting the toy was worth it. Turning on her heel, stepping into the bathroom, Tisiphone orders him to, "strip."

Smart girl.

It doesn't keep the burn from making its way up his neck as she turns the refresher, the low static drowning out any background noise as she takes a seat inside the fogged glass.

Alex kicks off his boots, gratefully that he'd actually kept up with his fitness all these years as he pulls his shirt off. There's still bruising in the crook of his elbow. He doubts she misses it as she stares up at him. It's a rush of relief when he notices the scarlet on her cheeks. This is embarrassing for both of them then, as he unbuttons his trousers, before taking a seat in front of her.

"Division blew up my crew." She starts with, staring at a spot behind him, her eyes welling up with tears. "They launched a missile and it tore their ship apart." She wipes her eyes with the back of her hand, shaking her head, "I'm sorry I just. . .let me start over."

"It's okay."

"Shut up Alex and let me tell this in a way that makes sense." She swallows thickly. Taking a deep breathe during which she closes her eyes before continuing. "My name is Vera Albaicin. I'm an agent of the Guoanbu. Sixty eight sols ago my crew was handpicked to participate in an interplanetary task force with the UN. It was supposed to be an easy retrieval mission. We met up with the other crew. Everything was normal."

T-Vera closes her eyes, her hands closed tightly by her sides, trying to suppress the shiver that runs down her spine. Alex wants to offer comfort, but he isn't sure there is anything he can do to make things better in this situation.

"I took an EMU suit to-it was a strange ship. More like a capsule or probe. I had just made contact when my ship was hit." She shakes her head, a desperation in her eyes at the helplessness she must keep on feeling. Not having been able to do anything to save her crew. "Space. They died in seconds. The thing is. . .the only people who would've known about the mission were the UN and MPC. Earth and mars."

Alex nods, trying to probe her as gently as possible because there is still one unanswered question, "how did you know to find Ivan."

The UN and MPC must have decided that the knowledge was better off lost after having sent a retrieval team. Something they didn't want anyone to know about it. That fact that mars and earth had cooperated at all was throwing Alex off. Weapons would make sense if it was just mars or earth. But together?

Vera shakes her head slowly, her gaze meeting his, an intense anger to their depth he had not seen before. She was digging because she was fucking mad. This was a woman seeking justice. "I can't."

"Vera," Alex utters, unable to look away, trying her real name out on his tongue. "My name is Alexander Turner. I'm kind of famous for breaking the law," he finished with a self deprecating smile.

Usually, the last thing he wanted a potential date to know was his past.

Her eyes widen, her whole body freezing up as she takes in the new information, pursing her lips in an attempt to suppress a telling gasp. But instead of recoiling in disgust as he expects her to, Vera reaches for her neck, revealing a necklace obscured by her hoodie. It's a cheap metal thing that must be of sentimental value.

She doesn't stop there, thumbing the ring at the end of the chain before meeting his gaze once more. This time there's no hard glint to her cognac eyes, but a woman at last having caught on to a life preserver. "Julian-Captain Casablancas told me to find Ivan. Trust no one-trust no one but Alex Turner," Vera admits, unable to hold his gaze. "He must have known what was coming."

It's a ring he recognizes well, a twin to his own commander ring. The classic exploration insignia: the atom. Every detail identical for Julian and Alex had received their rank at the same ceremony, only Julian had been eight years older. Already the man Alex wanted to be: wanted to be with. The man had inspired camaraderie the way a good leader should, and clearly he had managed it in a martian girl as well if she had come all this way on his word alone.

"Can I," he motions, aware of the closing distance between them. Between him and Vera. Vera. He had to get his head around that one. Same woman, different name.

No. Not the same woman.

This woman was a martian secret intelligence agent. Not some naive little girl.

She nods, closing her fist around the ring before yanking the chain in a quick motion. It snaps off. The sound like the hull of a ship nearing the end of its lifetime, creaking. Then drops the ring into his outstretched palm.

Without Alex having to prompt this time, still caught up in seeing Julian's ring, still warm from Vera's body heat, in his hand. Julian hadn't responded to Alex's messages. He'd assumed it was because of Alex's past, but now he was left to wonder if Julian had wanted to protect him by keeping away from him. Keeping whatever he'd gotten caught up in that had killed him away from Alex. Vera adds, "I was confused why he'd told me that, given me his ring as I got into the EMU suit but. . .Ivan told me that he was just the messenger. He'd worked for so many sides not asking questions. Earth, Solarium, Mars. They were all the same to him. So he decided that the children of prometheus had a point and got in contact with them. Relaid information. Ivan-he was going to tell me more."

But he'd died.

Vera looks at him meaningfully, "but he did manage to give me the coordinates that he was given by his CoP contact. In case he ever needed a safe house or extraction."

"He never-," Alex begins to ask, not taking his eyes off the ring. In his hand was proof that Julian had been killed.

"He never met his contact," Vera confirms. "But they're on Callisto. Some hippie hub." She rolls her eyes and what a martian thing to do. Look down on every colony not hell bent on terraforming.

Alex turns his gaze on her once more, seeing her in a different light for the first time. Trying to spot what made her a martian. As if he could spot in vitro augmentation just by looking her over.

But all he saw was a petite woman with a hollowness under her eyes. Her full lips pressed into a grim line. Hair slowly drying into waves, catching the light like oil on water. Despite Alex's new information about Vera, he was no less drawn to her.

There was no sadistic edge that spoke of oprichnik operatives who the Martian People's council refused to acknowledge existed despite all the mounting evidence about their methods.

His gut was telling him that Vera was telling the truth.

"One thing though," Alex points out, taking off his own ring for the first time since he'd first received command rank, a command long since stripped from him, and sliding Julian's ring on his finger in its place as he stands up. His mind was made up. He was going to help Vera uncover this conspiracy. Clear Julian and Vera's name. And maybe, just maybe, reclaim some respect on his name.

"What?"

"You said earth and mars sent you," he says gently, having encountered enough martians to know how loyal to their colony they were otherwise known as having bought into the propaganda, "but Division killed your crew.. ."

"Yes," Vera nods, tapping her foot on the floor.

"Then wouldn't both earth and mars have sent the missile that killed your crew? Or wouldn't have mars already used this as an excuse to advance their agenda?"

"No," she supplies, refusing to even contemplate the idea that Mars would've been complicit in such an act. "The Guoanbu wouldn't have killed their own. We're-they're not like that."

“Vera," he sighs, "there's nastiness under every corner, no matter how nice everything is on top you know."

She shakes her head again, averting her gaze, There wasn't much to look at on the walls, but she was making due.

"Let's just find ya another IDB and get to Callisto-"

There's a knock at the door.

Alex and Vera trade wide eyed looks, having taken the plunge off the same cliff with nothing but a string of brand new fucking trust between them. A dead man's word to go on.

Fucking hell.

Matt and Nick flank each side of the room's door. Nick's stone face offsets the mixture of parental concern Matt's features contain, sighing at Alex's appearance, sticking his head out the door. Vera hiding next to the door, alert to every word.

He has to wonder how good her hearing is. Martian's always messed with embryos biology, designing the next generation to be fitter. Could she hear down the hall? What the people in the next room were saying?

Matt steps forward, "jesus fuck mate," he shakes his head. "Can't respond to a bloody com now Alex."

"I told you I got a job," he protests, trying to remember if that was true. His friends had fallen to the bottom of his priorities quickly. Alex had a habit of self absorption with whatever obsession came his way. It had made him a terrific ensign, practicing the same maneuver for hours until he could do it with his eyes closed.

"No," Nick corrects, not bothering to move the curls out of his face, watching him carefully, "you didn't."

Alex sighs, but doesn't budge. They mustn't see Vera. Soon her face will be plastered all over the net as a manhunt begins. Her IDB must already be flagged for travel.

He had to make his rightfully concerned friends go away and quickly.

"Al," Matt levels with him, "I asked you to be here because you might as well be my brother. I knew when I did that it would mean coming back to the moon. That it would bring up a load of shit for you."

"We're worried about you mate," Nick explains. "You're still here. You won't talk to any of us."

" 'm fine," Alex mumbles, unable to hold eye contact with either of his friends. He looks at his shoes as he realizes how unfair he's been to them both in the last two days.

This trip was supposed to be about Matt.

He shouldn't be here worried that Alex finally went off the rails.

"Alex," Matt utters, placing his hand on the door frame, leaning in close to Alex. "You know you can talk to me. I don't care what you did or why."

"Really," Alex tries, because as much as he'd like to have this long overdue discussion, finally get to explain why--no one had ever asked him why, they'd just condemned his actions as w r o n g--he has to get Vera off the moon. "I'm fine. Just been in me head."

"That's what I'm worried about," Matt responds, eyes locked onto his, as if Alex could disappear at any moment. "You've always been in your head too much Al. And it didn't matter when I knew you were looking after yourself. Had me and the lads with you but-Alex you looked like utter shit back in Vesta last time I saw you, hopped up on who knows what."

Alex swears internally. They really knew when to pick the worst moments. He was actually doing good. "I know. . .," he tries to find the words that don't require him to have an emotional breakdown in Tranquility Hotel, aware Vera's listening in, "it's been rough. Some days worse than others but Matthew," he whines, "I really am good."

"For how long though," Nick counters, crossing his arms against his chest. It was a good point but Alex really hadn't been in the dark lonely place in months. Maybe closer to a year now. Progress.

Something about waking up missing shoes and jammed into the seediest by corners of an asteroid had lit a fire under his arse about moving on.

He hadn't even hit the agents earlier. They would've deserved it but who gives a shit. Alex will always be a mutineer but at least his hands were clean. His conscience is a white pearl like a meditating bodhisattva.

"Can we just go inside and talk man," Matt pleads, his shoulder resting against the door, clearly seconds away from shoving his way in.

Guilt wells up in his mouth. Despite having every reason to say no, Alex wants to say yes, the word making its way to the tip of his tongue at Matt's insistence.

It was Matt and he was Alex and he couldn't just deny him like this after everything.

Terrans were only allowed one child.

The law didn't keep Matt from being his brother any less.

"I can't," Alex sighs. "I just-you've given me a lot to think about."

Matt rolls his eyes, hurt flashing through his features as he takes a step back, "bullshit."

"Just open up the damn door Alexander," Nick tries, clearly having had it with trying to do things the nice way, realizing Alex wasn't going to budge on his own. "We're ya friends."

"It's been six years Alex," Matt added. "I thought you'd want to talk by now."

Alex shakes his head, "it's not always a straight line."

"Let's have this conversation inside," Nick insists, "who knows when you'll be around next Al. And now Matt has a command. . ."

Matt shoves his way in.

Alex had forgotten how hot headed he could be. The foil to his cool and calm temperament: translating Alex's lit to others. Not that Alex had much trouble verbalizing, necessity being the mother invention. He no longer took hours to get a sentence out of his mouth.

"Matt!"

"Don't Matt me Al," Matt retorts spying Vera in seconds, who's already fallen into a defensive stance.

Matt brings a hand to his face, pinching his nose bridge, before heavily sighing, "You've got to be kidding me Al. You're hiding a murderer now."

"She's no-"

"I didn't kill anyone," she tries, folding into herself, trying to appear smaller and innocent than she actually is. Vera tries to play at being Tisiphone once more. "It's all a misunderstanding!"

"Then turn yourself in," Nick challenges, closing the door behind him.

"Al," Matt says, placing his hands on Alex's shoulders, "what the hell are you thinking mate! They're going to lock you up for this and not even-"

"Matt," he interrupts, "trust me. I'd love to have a nice long chat but things have gotten. . .complicated and-it's safer if ya don't know. Just. . .trust me."

Matt stares back at him, mouth drawn. An entire childhood together on earth, their toes digging into the soil, tracking mud all over the floors. Later a shared adolescence, their accents charming the girls and boys at school, Matt doing all the talking and never leaving a painfully shy Alex behind.

He nods. "You better come back because we're having this talk even if I have to go visit you in prison."

"There are things far worse than prison," Vera unhelpfully points out, tugging on her jacket over her hoodie, the collar lined with actual animal fur. Given the martian rationing system, it was an untold luxury for Vera to own a leather jacket with fur at all. "I'd even take death over enhanced interrogation."

She pretends to tremble with fear, "anything but gravity."

Alex snorts in spite of the dark subject matter. "Not helping."

Ignoring the other two men in the room, Vera hands Alex one of the spare IDB's he'd seen in her bag earlier. Had it really been only hours ago? "Here's your IDB now. Alexander Collins. Born on Pallas. Married to Morgana Collins," she points at herself, already dispatching the old IDB off her wrist and throwing it in her bag. "Came to the moon to get married. Off to Callisto to make a living," she explains calmly.

"Short and sweet," Alex notes, looking down at his own wrist, the IDB a second skin. He hadn't taken it off since he'd left earth. Many colonies like Callisto chose to implant the ID chip.

It was the key to getting on any ship. His passport and last link to earth. His last hope at ever stepping foot on the big blue planet again, however slim.

Visas for foreigners pretty much nonexistent.

Nick hands him a swiss army laser, "I implanted mine." It's news to Alex who hadn't even noticed, Nick having always been a bit chilly, wearing long sleeves year round. " 's nice actually."

Matt dramatically covers his eyes.

Alex slices through the metal, leaving a band of unblemished creamy skin.

It doesn't last long, as Vera easily replaces it.

"You should keep it," she tells him, patting his arm like a parent half heartedly consoling their child after a pet fish dies. "We are planning on fixing things."

"Yeah," Alex answers, running his fingers over the band. He already felt less confident without it.

[lunarr-rrose]

Understanding and Increasing Facility Value - Fernando Angelucci, The Storage Stud

https://u109893.h.reiblackbook.com/generic11/the-storage-stud/understanding-and-increasing-facility-value-fernando-angelucci-the-storage-stud/

According to Fernando, when it comes to Self Storage, one of the most important things to understand is not only the value of the facility that you are purchasing today but also where that value can be once you’re done with your term of ownership.

It is also paramount to understand the current financials. Everyone runs facilities differently and it’s important to see the performance of a storage facility in 12 to 24 months.

You also need to learn where to add values. One of the things that you can do is to cut spending.

To understand more about Facility value continue watching this video.

Fernando O. Angelucci is Founder and President of Titan Wealth Group. He also leads the firm’s finance and acquisitions departments. Fernando Angelucci and Steven Wear founded Titan Wealth Group in 2015, and under his leadership, the firm’s revenue has grown over 100% year over year. Today,

Find out more at

https://www.TheStorageStud.com

https://titanwealthgroup.com/

Listen to our Podcast:

https://thestoragestud.podbean.com/e/understanding-and-increasing-facility-value-fernando-angelucci-the-storage-stud/

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

So, when it comes to self storage, I think one of the most important thing is to understand, not only the value of the facility that you're purchasing today, but also where that value can be. Once you are done with your term of ownership, let's say you're doing a value add on a facility. How do we go from point a today to this increased value, you know, 18, 36 or 60 months down the line. One of the very first thing is, understanding the current financials and not necessarily taking those, you know, built-in stone, if you will, carbon stone. So, everyone will run facilities differently. So, I think it's important to look at the trailing, you know 12 or 24 month performance of a self storage facility, but then also see where you can add value. So for example, the very easiest things to do is just to cut spending.

So for us, when we go look at a facility, the first thing we look at is the property taxes. And if there's any way that we can either contest, the property taxes or structure the sale in a way where we assign a lower value to the property and the improvements in a higher value to the Goodwill, thus dropping our taxable basis for the County. So for example, let's say I'm buying a $1 million self storage facility. I'm not going to write a purchase agreement for $1 million. When I'm most likely going to do is I'm going to write a, purchase agreement for $700,000 for the property itself, the land, and any improvements on the land. And then I'll write a separate purchase agreement for 300,000 towards Goodwill, which is like an imaginary value that's assigned to the business itself. The Goodwill can not be counted towards property taxes.

So, now the tax assessor is going to see that we bought the property, the land and the improvements for 700,000 and we'll tax us accordingly to the mill rates on that portion of the purchase. Now, that will help us drop our purchase or our property taxes pretty substantially. I've heard of some buyers, especially some larger REIT's getting really aggressive with the strategy and almost splitting the purchase price 50, 50 between land and improvements versus Goodwill. So, that's one method that we use. Another method is, you know, insurance and labor. We can always get better insurance quotes, especially if we're getting insurance policies that are specific to self storage, because they carry much less risk than say traditional commercial property. So, if you don't have a good insurance broker or risk advisor, they may not understand that and might just quote you general commercial insurance and the premiums can be much higher.

Another thing is, labor. What we've noticed is, it swings both ways. Sometimes, sellers do all of the management work themselves and don't pay them anything. So, all of a sudden what you thought was a 10 cap deal, because the expenses don't account for any managers, all of a sudden you put $50,000 back into the expenses to pay for a manager. And now all of a sudden your 10 cap deal drops down to 7.2 or a 6.5. And all of a sudden it's no longer as appealing. Now, one of the things you can do on the flip side say that you have a property that is just overmanned, they're using two and a half people, we'll say two managers rotating plus a part-time person when the facility doesn't warrant it, or maybe a warranted it while the property was leasing up.

But, now that it's stabilized and now just kind of humming along, you don't need people just sitting behind a desk playing solitaire going on Facebook. So, one of the things that we look at doing is number one, how many man hours do we actually need at this facility? And then, how much of that can we automate? Can we use technology for? So for example, one of the things that we can do is, we can go to on one extreme, you know, we can have the two-and-a-half managers for a, call it 80,000 or a hundred thousand square foot facility, or on the way other extreme as we go completely unmanned. We use a system of kiosks that almost looked like ATM machines that allow people to rent properties or rent units, pay for insurance, get a lock box, sign their lease, everything right there at the site.

We also so always mix this with a online strategy as well, where someone can just go to the website and rent a unit. They can sign the lease on website, or send it to their phone. They can sign it with their finger. These are all ways that we can drop the total labor load. What we found recently is that almost 80% of our reservations are done over the phone. About 10 to 15% are done online, and about 5% are actually done in person in the store. So, it's only 5%. If you apply the 80, 20 principle to this, we shouldn't have any managers because 80% of our revenue is coming from a phone call. So, one of the things that we can do is, we can just hire a call center and that call center will take all the calls. And if there's anything that needs a physical person at the site, we can schedule that on a one-off basis, pay that person hourly, or as an independent contractor, as opposed to putting them on salary and having them sit in an office for eight hours a day, in the off chance that once a week, somebody comes in for five, 10 minutes.

It's just not worth that time. Another expense that, we usually look at dropping obviously is going to be our mortgage expense. If you have really good loan brokers, you're able to pay more for properties because usually the way that we look at buying properties as a spread against the, interest rate. So, if we can get an interest rate on a property for 4%, you know, I'm willing to buy three, 400 basis points above that at let's say a 7% or an 8% cap rate, as opposed to, if I'm paying 6% on my money, a seven or an eight caps not going to work, and I'm going to have to start buying it at a nine or a 10% cap rate, which is very difficult in the environment we're in currently. And then on the flip side, how do you increase revenue? Maybe, the property when you do a competition study, the property is 20% below market rents.

Maybe all the existing tenants haven't, have never had their rent increased in the 10 years that the owners own the property. So maybe they're due to be increased up to say, 90 or 95% of what the street rates are. You can add and ciliary profit centers, you know, such as boxes and moving supplies or locks or shredding services or mailing services, U P S, or FedEx, wine storage. You can rent out moving trucks. You can rent spaces for storage, for cars, boats, RV's, there's all these little ways that you can just keep edging the gross revenue up. That after 12, 18 months, all of a sudden you've doubled your income and you've had your expenses, and now you're going to sell or refinance this property for four times what you bought it for. So, those are ways that we look at understanding and increasing our facility's values, just from a, like a non cap ex, capital expenditure model.

Another way that you can increase revenue or the value of that facility is by getting pretty creative, say, maybe you don't want to expand the facility cause you don't want to pay the cost to build new buildings. But you know that if the year facility had additional land to expand onto, that it sell at a premium to the next buyer. So, one of the things that you could do is, put lease options on all of the adjacent land and either execute it yourself and purchase that land while you own the property or assign that lease option to the new buyer. And that will increase the value of your property.

[writing-in-the-tiny-house]

The Gift of Beta Readers

The Gift of Alpha Readers

If you wish to become a patron of Writing in the Tiny House podcast, please visit www.patreon.com/writinginthetinyhouse today!

The following is a transcript of this episode. For the complete transcript, please visit the show’s website.

[00:00:00] So you did it guys. You have written the next best thing and you are so eager to get this out into the world that you have revised it, you have combed through it, and you have all of these things ready, but nobody has read it yet. So what do you do next? Well, let's find out today on Writing and the Tiny House.

[00:00:26] Hello. Hello. Hello. And welcome back to the show. Welcome to Writing in the Tiny House. I am your host Devin Davis, and I am the guy in the tiny house who is here to show you, you busy adults working a nine to five like me, that it is completely possible for you to write that work of fiction that you have always wanted to do.

[00:01:06] And you should. I just recorded 20 minutes of audio and didn't actually record any of it. So we're starting over and it's fine. Because now I get to say the things that I didn't save very well the first time, and it's okay to start over. We're still learning some of this new recording equipment and that's okay too.

[00:01:26] But many of you know, because I announced in last week's episode that I have been working on some smaller things as a way to get my writing more available, to get my writing into the hands of people who are eager to read it and to do it faster than I could do if I were to just write a book just because the time to produce a book is much longer and there are a million different ways to share your writing with other people.

[00:01:57] So I have been working on some smaller things and I am working on them in conjunction with Krissy Barton from Little Syllables Editing. She is going to be the editor on call or whatever, the editor in this whole project of writing a collection of short stories or novelettes. And so with this, I am writing these smaller works, and I'm going to be releasing them on a schedule, provided all of this works out okay. Right now we are on track with this first thing. And so I expect everything to be okay. And I think that this is something that we can reproduce right now. All of this is tentative stuff though. Like this is not gospel truth yet, but in doing these shorter things, I still need to go through the different steps of writing and revising and cleaning up these smaller works of fiction as I would have to do with a book.

[00:03:07] But because the thing is shorter, all of those steps don't take as long to do, which is kind of cool. It's fun to blaze through some of these different steps a little faster, and to get that progress done faster, to arrive there more quickly. And with this, I also hope to have myself on a regular releasing schedule, which means that there is kind of a stopwatch going for each of these projects.

[00:03:35] And for this first one, I am hoping more than anything. And I am taking a leap announcing this on the podcast that this will be ready for sale by the end of October. I'm going to post it on amazon.com and it will be available to purchase there. It'll be affordable. Don't worry about that. But I wanted so badly to share my writing and I think that I'm going to do it.

[00:04:00] So what I'm doing is this collection of short stories ties into the larger books that I am also in the middle of that I have set aside for the moment. So the world that all those things take place in these smaller short stories will tie into that same world. And this collection is called Tales from Vlaydor, and this is Installment One, which is entitled Brigitte.

[00:04:29] And so, yeah, so we did it. We've written a manuscript. We've gotten, you know, a few revisions under our belts, but if you are like me, perhaps you don't outline things very well. I surely don't, I don't like to outline. I like to write and then make huge revisions to what I've written because I don't like to outline, but for this first installment, I did not get any feedback to begin with on the story itself. I wanted to sit down, I wanted to write the story, revise a couple of things just because I wanted to present it in a good way to a small group of people. So I sat down. I wrote the thing. I revised it a couple times. I sent it through Pro Writing Aid, which by the way, Pro Writing Aid is amazing.

[00:05:19] Especially if you are using Scrivener as your word processor, because it integrates into Scrivener. It was the easiest thing to do. I recommend sending anything you are working on through Pro Writing aid before you let anybody read it, just because the edits were easy to do. And because Pro Writing Aid made it easier to read.

[00:05:42] Everybody seemed to have a better time. Pro Writing Aid does not replace a professional editor, but it is a very good tool to use along the way. So I wrote the thing, I sent it through Pro Writing Aid, and then I gathered in a way, a group of people that I would want to get feedback on this first draft, I guess we can call it a first draft. On this first revision, I guess.

[00:06:09] And this is what we do, this is how we approach this. So I needed to get feedback because first of all, I needed to know if this was a story that anybody wanted to read. I wanted to know also if this was a story that people would be willing to buy, and I needed to know if after reading this, they would be interested in reading more.

[00:06:35] And if the results were such that, no, this story idea is not a good idea. You need to switch to something else. I didn't want to spend so much time and energy on something that nobody would want. And so I would sooner scrap the whole idea and start a fresh with a new story idea rather than try to simply make something work.

[00:07:04] And so, because I'm writing to market because I want this to be sold. And so I want there to be a certain audience appeal. I wanted to make sure that I was on track and on base with the very foundation of this story. So that's what I did first. And I recommend you doing the same thing with your shorter works of fiction also, or with your novels.

[00:07:29] So here's the deal. I'm sure that you have heard the term beta readers a million different times if you are engaged in the writer, community. Beta readers are basically the people who are doing product testing for your book. They get your book and you need to know that the book is working for them as books need to work for readers. Does it keep their attention? Is it easy to read? Is it entertaining? Can they keep track of characters? Can they keep track of places? Do they have a good experience? Are they surprised during the surprising parts? Are they scared during the scary parts, all those things.

[00:08:10] That is what beta reading is for, but there's a big step before that. Some people call it alpha readers. Some people call it, I don't know other stuff, but. I had this concept and I needed to make sure that the concept was okay. So I selected a few of my close friends and another person that I'll get into in order to share ideas.

[00:08:36] So I wrote this novelette called Brigitte. It is about 9,000 words long, and I included just some questions at the end as a prompt, as a way to help people give feedback. And I recommend that you do the same. In a novel I recommend actually that you include things like that in sections of the book, rather than just a big, long list at the end of the book, just as a way to get the gears moving so that people can be inspired or understand how to give feedback, just because, especially in this most recent round of feedback, I have found that so many people read just to be entertained and they don't read critically. And that is fine. And so the little bit of help for that is really good for them. And it's good. It's good to hear all sorts of feedback. I've also found that for many people. So with this story, the vast majority of the feedback was positive.

[00:09:45] People liked the story. It was pretty middle of the road, which is okay. But people liked the story. They thought that it was easy to read. It was easy to get to the end. They weren't confused by people or names or places. And so I took that as a good affirmation or confirmation that I was on the right track with this, and I should move forward.

[00:10:14] And that is great. With many of the people though, the feedback was simply, Hey, this is great. I like it. I would want to read more of things like this. And that feedback is valuable for a specific reason. If that is all they're saying, this is great. I want to read more. While that feedback is not going to help you iron out the kinks and dings and dents in your manuscript. And it's not necessarily going to help you with your craft. It can show you that producing work like this. There are people who want to support your craft. And that is very valuable. So even though the tools aren't there, even though the feedback isn't there to help you get better as a writer, it is really cool to know that people are there to support you as a writer.

[00:11:12] And like I said, that is valuable too. However, with a lot of people, they responded to the questions. And I liked that and I took notes and I paid attention. With those questions though, I found that with many of them, I didn't require seven people to answer each of those questions just because the same answers for many of those questions ended up showing up like seven different times.

[00:11:41] That's okay. We live and we learn. However, there were a couple peers a couple people that read it, took notes, re-read it. And then had a really long conversation with me about how it went about, what was working and what wasn't working. And I'll come back to that in just a second, just because people who are willing to put that type of attention and energy into my work, those are people that I hold near and dear. I mean, everybody who is supporting my work is held near and dear, but those are the people that I will go to with the first ideas, with the baby ideas that I need to grow from, the really underdeveloped things that need to grow that are still vulnerable and still scary and still underdeveloped. And working together we're able to come up with some cooler things for the next revision of this story. 

[00:12:47] With this, and I recommend this thing until the day I die. It is important to send your work, especially if you are writing to market, it is important to send your work to someone you don't know, or to many people that you don't know.

[00:13:02] When you are ready for that, you will know. I sent this first revision. I will likely try to find another person that I don't know to read this after this next round of revisions, but here's the reason why. The feedback that a stranger gives you is really hard to take, but it is super honest and it's usually really direct and it's really easy to understand, and that matters my friends.

[00:13:30] These people are not preserving a friendship. And so there is no holding back when it comes to what isn't working, what is confusing, what seems silly, but seems banale or stupid. I mean, what other words did this nice person include? But the points that this person brought to my attention were good points. It was clear that I had not conveyed so much of this story clearly.

[00:14:01] And like I said, because we weren't already friends, there was no reason to pretend like we were friends and try to sugarcoat anything. Most of the stuff that this person told me was really good and really valuable feedback. And so what I was able to do is take the key points from her feed back and talk about them with these other friends who were interested in helping me develop the story.

[00:14:29] So they didn't have to worry about stepping on eggshells. They didn't have to worry about offending. I got to say, oh, this other lady said this and this and this. And they're like, oh yeah, I guess that makes sense. And then we were able to discuss together ways to make it better. So with these conversations, some people tend to kind of freak out about it because they don't know how to have a critique conversation. So with these conversations, it is you and somebody else. And maybe a third person who are trying to improve a specific work. They're trying to make things better. If you or someone is coming to the table just in the attitude of saying this sucks. You need to leave it alone. You need to throw it away.

[00:15:16] Then you're not going to have this conversation with that person, but everybody has the common goal and the common understanding that this work is not finished and we are joining forces to make it better. The way that this conversation unfolds is much of the time the person will have notes. The person will have some ideas, but they don't really know how to get started about it just because Cohesion and hoping that everything links together and thoughts and different things like that.

[00:15:50] But this conversation is not going to be a dissertation. This conversation is not going to be like baring of souls. This conversation is largely brainstorming, which means a lot of the ideas and a lot of the topics don't have to mesh in the most beautiful way throughout the conversation. It's okay to jump from topic to topic.

[00:16:15] It's okay to say, oh, are we done with this? Because on the next page, this completely different problem is there. Let's talk about that now. And through those, I had two friends who were very interested in helping me improve this work of fiction. And that is exactly how the conversation went. They put aside an hour, we had a phone call and we talked about all the things that didn't work.

[00:16:42] And we talked about the things that this stranger critique partner brought to my attention, and we were able to iron out things and bring up some different ideas and some different approaches that I should try to incorporate into the next revision of this work. And that happened to me twice and it was beautiful and I felt enriched at the end and they were excited that they were included with this.

[00:17:11] And it was a really good thing. So I guess the takeaway here is when you are searching for feedback, it is important to help by supplying a list of questions. If it's a person who's already experienced with giving feedback, they likely won't pay much attention to those questions, but a lot of people don't read fiction critically.

[00:17:35] And so they they may need a little help with that. And that's great. Also, if you find those friends who are so engaged and so interested in helping you develop your craft, make sure to keep them near and dear. Take care of those friends. And lastly, If you have the people who say this is good, I want to read more, and then don't say much more than that. That means that you're on the right track and that what you have written is good. And while it may not improve your craft, it shows that there are people in the world who want to support your craft. So that's the quick take home for today. 

[00:18:24] Thank you so much for tuning in and listening to this episode. If you wish to become a patron of this writing in the tiny house podcast, go topatreon.com/writinginthetinyhouse. And I will have links to that in the show notes of this episode. Go ahead and follow me on Instagram. My handle is @authordevindavis and on Twitter my handle is@authordevind. And have fun writing. We will see you next time guys. Bye.

Check out this episode!

[cvid19]

COVID 19 PANDEMIC

COVID-19 Effects on the Philippines

    According to Pharmaceutical Technology Philippine is one of the high-risk countries from the Wuhan coronavirus outbreak. The first case of novel coronavirus (2019-nCoV, now COVID-19) in the Philippines was confirmed on 30 January 2020, in a 38-year old woman who arrived from Wuhan. Two days later, the Philippines recorded the first death outside China on 01 February 2020.

    The Philippines government declared a health emergency on 09 March, following a spike in new confirmed cases and local transmission. The COVID-19 Code Alert system was revised upwards to Red Sublevel 2 on 12 March.

    The Philippines government announced the entire country will be placed under a state of calamity for a period of six months. The declaration will enable national and local governments to quickly access relief funds to curb the spread of the disease.

    They started announcing local lock-downs (home quarantine) following the increase in global coronavirus cases. The entire Luzon island is locked-down affecting more than 50 million people. The lock-down prohibits people from going outside their homes except for getting basic necessities.

    Quarantining (lock-down) will be imposed in the Philippines barangays, municipalities/cities and provinces if at least two COVID-19 coronavirus cases are recorded in two different households in the respective locations.

https://www.pharmaceutical-technology.com/features/coronavirus-affected-countries-philippines-measures-impact-tourism-economy/

Economy

    Covid-19 make a lot of difference on the economy of the country. Philippines witnessed a slower economic growth in the first half of 2019, compared to 2018. The country saw a sustained economic growth of 6.3% between 2010 and 2018, while the growth slowed down to 5.5% in H2 2019. The World Bank estimates Philippines to witness full-year 2019 economic growth of 5.8%.

    The Central Bank of the Philippines (BSP) noted that the coronavirus outbreak could have a major impact on Philippine economy over the next few months.

    Ruben Carlo Asuncion, chief economist for Union Bank of the Philippines, noted that the coronavirus outbreak could cost the Philippine economy $600m or 0.8% of economic growth if it lasts for six months, as quoted by CNN Philippines.

    A series of unforeseen events caused an abrupt halt to the Philippines' strong growth momentum in early 2020. The Philippine economy carried its strong growth momentum from the second half of 2019 into early 2020 thanks to positive consumer confidence, robust macroeconomic fundamentals, and an improvement in the external sector. However, the eruption of Taal Volcano in early January, the spread of the Coronavirus Disease 2019 (COVID-19) outbreak in the region, and the rise of COVID-19 infection cases in the Philippines in March, forced the economy to a near halt in the latter part of March due to severe disruptions in manufacturing, agriculture, tourism and hospitality, construction, and trade. The economy contracted by 0.2 percent year-on-year in the first quarter of 2020, the first contraction in over two decades, and was a sharp reversal from the 5.7 percent growth over the same period in 2019. Leading indicators that track economic activity in real time suggest that the contraction would be even more severe in the second quarter as most regions of the country entered an enhanced community quarantine (ECQ) in mid-March.

https://openknowledge.worldbank.org/handle/10986/33879

Tourism

      PWC Philippines indicated that given the travel restrictions and closure of businesses, 88% of the respondents expect losses of over 50% of their 2020 revenues. Sixty-three percent of the respondents also say that they expect their businesses to normalize within six months to over a year. Such findings are worrying because the tourism industry contributed 12.7% of the country’s GDP in 2019, and provided 5.71 million jobs in the same year.

    Tourism industry is a major contributor, accounting for 12.7% of the Philippine economy in 2018, according to data from the Philippines Statistics Authority. More than seven million foreign tourists visited the country during the first ten months of 2019.

    Globally, the World Travel and Tourism council estimated that it could take up to ten months for the industry to recover.

    Nine months since the virus was first detected in China, there is still no sign that the spread is slowing down. The road to recovery can take longer than initially anticipated. Fitch forecasts that tourist arrivals and tourism receipts will not go back to pre-COVID levels even five years hence.

    The tourism industry, however, is expected to witness a major impact as the country closed its borders with China and other countries due to the coronavirus infection, Philippine Finance Secretary Carlos Dominguez noted. Dominguez added that the exact economic impact of the outbreak is too early to be estimated but remained optimistic that the country can sustain its economic growth.

https://www.pwc.com/ph/en/publications/tourism-pwc-philippines/tourism-covid-19.html

Business

   Drawing on a survey of more than 5,800 small businesses, this paper provides insight into the economic impact of coronavirus 2019 (COVID-19) on small businesses. The results shed light on both the financial fragility of many small businesses, and the significant impact COVID-19 had on these businesses in the weeks after the COVID-19–related disruptions began. The results also provide evidence on businesses’ expectations about the longer-term impact of COVID-19, as well as their perceptions of relief programs offered by the government.

    Firms in the East Asia and Pacific (EAP) region have been hit hard by the COVID-19 (coronavirus) pandemic, with dramatic and widespread falls in sales and employment. Firm sales in some EAP countries were 38 to 58 percent lower in April or May 2020, compared to the same month in the previous year. Small and medium-sized enterprises (SMEs) have been particularly affected.

    The pandemic will have a lasting impact on productivity growth as firm indebtedness and increased uncertainty inhibit investment, and firm closures and unemployment lead to a loss of valuable intangible assets. Support for firms is needed but must be based as far as possible on objective criteria, related not only to past performance or current pain but to the potential for firms, including new firms, to thrive in the future. To avoid unduly prolonging assistance, governments should build exit strategies into the design of support measures and commit to phasing support out by linking it to observable macroeconomic indicators of recovery.

https://www.pnas.org/content/117/30/17656

Lesson that We’ve learn during this Pandemic

"Not only does self-care have positive outcomes for you, but it also sets an example to younger generations as something to establish and maintain for your entire life."

CREDITS TO AARP ORG

    -This pandemic thought us to become stronger or having a courage in time of crisis. We must always be on a positive side that we will strive and cope this challenges that we are facing  because as the years will pass by this pandemic will be a reminder or a lesson that we must thought the next generation that no matter what happens as long as you will not give up and fight for everything that will come up you can reach your goal and strive. This also thought as about caring for others and working as one because once achievement will be more greater if there are people that help you to do great things just like our front liners we must learn how to cooperate by following the protocols that they give because if its not for them we will have more harder times that we even face before and we wont know what are we going to do.

 Ø  As a reminder if your experiencing the signs and effects of COVID-19 do not think of it that much just think on a positive way to feel better again. Positive mind could be a great help to cope anything that bother you even if it’s a deadly virus. We all know that we are all facing in the same situation but I believe that we can do it, we can wipe out this virus in this world for ones. Just follow the protocols that we are given and I know that we will all be better and we can do all the things that we’ve missed when the time comes.

[paths-of-my-childhood-candid]

Lover Conquers All

By: Mark Sutherland for Music Week Date: November 4th 2019 issue (published online on December 13th 2019)

She’s the world’s biggest pop star, but despite her global success, Taylor Swift is also the music industry’s greatest advocate for artists’ and songwriters’ rights. And, with a ground-breaking new record deal and a bold new album, Lover, she’s not about to stop now. Music Week meets her to talk music and business...

Around this time of year, the Taylor Swift anniversaries come at you thick and fast. Nine years since her third album, Speak Now, every note of which was written entirely by Swift, hit the shelves. Five years since she released her mould-breaking pop album, 1989, and went from the world’s biggest country star to the world’s biggest pop star overnight. Two years since her Reputation record saw her become the only musician to post four successive million-plus debut sales weeks in the United States. And so on.

But today, Swift’s mind is drawn further back, to the 13th anniversary of her debut, self-titled record, and the days when her album releases weren’t automatically accompanied by mountains of hype and enough think-pieces to sink a battleship. Her journal entries from the time - helpfully reprinted as part of the deluxe editions of her new album, Lover - reveal her as an excited, optimistic teenager, but also one with a grasp of marketing strategies and label politics way beyond her years, even if she was reluctant to actually take credit for her ideas.

“It always was and it always will be an interesting dance being a young woman in the music industry,” she smiles ruefully. “We don’t have a lot of female executives, we’re working on getting more female engineers and producers but, while we are such a drastic gender minority, it’s interesting to try and figure out how to be.”

And, of course, when Swift started out she was, as she points out, “an actual kid”.

“I was planning the release of my first album when I was 15 years old,” she reminisces. “And I was a fully gangly 15, I reminded everyone of their niece! I was in this industry in Nashville and country music, where I was making album marketing calls, but I never wanted to stand up and say, ‘Yeah, that promotions plan you just complimented my label on, I thought of that! Me and my Mom thought of that!’

“When you’re a new artist you wonder how much space you can take up and, as a woman, you wonder how much space you can take up pretty much your whole period of growing up,” she continues. “For me, growing up and knowing that I was an adult was realising that I was allowed to take up space from a marketing perspective, from a business perspective, from an opinionated perspective. And that feels a lot better than constantly trying to wonder if I’m allowed to be here.”

In the intervening years, Taylor Swift has released six further, brilliant albums, growing from country starlet to all-conquering pop behemoth along the way. She takes up “more space”, as she would put it, than any other musician on the planet: a sales and now - having belatedly embraced the format with Lover - streaming phenomenon; a powerhouse stadium performer; an award-garlanded songwriter for herself and others; and a social media giant with a combined 278 million followers across Instagram, Twitter and Facebook (which would make the Taylor Nation the fourth most populous one on earth, after China, India and the US).

But her influence on music and the music industry doesn’t end there. Because, over the years, Swift has also become a leading advocate for artists’ and songwriters’ rights, in a digital landscape that doesn’t always have such matters as a priority.

In 2015, she stood up to Apple Music over its plans to not pay artist royalties during subscribers’ three-month free trials (Apple backed down immediately). She pulled her entire catalogue from Spotify in 2014 in protest that its free tier was devaluing music, sending Daniel Ek scrambling to justify his business model. When she returned in 2017, it was a crucial fillip for the streaming service’s IPO plans.

More recently, her ground-breaking new record deal with Republic Records contained clauses not only guaranteeing her ownership of her future masters, but also ensuring Universal Music will share the spoils of its Spotify shares with its artists, without any payments counting against unrecouped balances. And when her long-time former label boss Scott Borchetta sold Big Machine to Scooter Braun’s Ithaca Holdings, taking Swift’s first six albums with him, the star publicly called out what she saw as her “worst-case scenario” and stressed: “You deserve to own the art you make”. She may yet re-record her old songs in protest.

In short, Swift has, for a long time now, been unafraid to use her voice on industry matters, whether they pertain to her own stellar career or the thousands of other artists out there struggling to make a living.

All of which makes Swift not just the greatest star of our age, but perhaps the most important to the future development of the industry as a more artist-centric, songwriter-friendly business. Hers is still the life of the pop phenomenon - she spent today in Los Angeles doing promotion and photoshoots (or, in her words, “having people put make-up on me”) as Lover continues to build on huge critical acclaim and even huger initial sales. But now, she’s kicking back with her cats - one of whom seems determined to disrupt Music Week’s interview by “stampeding” through at every opportunity - and ready to talk business.

And for Swift, business is good. The impact of her joining streaming, and the decline of traditional album sales, may have prevented her from posting a fifth successive one million-plus sales debut, but Lover still sold more US copies (867,000) in its first week than any record since her own Reputation. It’s sold 117,513 copies to date in the UK, according to the Official Charts Company.

Even better, while Reputation - a record forged in the white heat of a social media snakestorm over her on-going feud with Kanye West - was plenty of show and rather less grow, Lover continues to reveal hidden depths. Reputation struck a sometimes curious contrast between the unrepentant warrior Swift she was showing to the outside world and the love story with British actor Joe Aiwyn that was quietly developing behind closed doors, but Lover is the sort of versatile, cohesive album that the streaming age was supposed to kill off.

It contains more than its fair share of pop bangers (You Need To Calm Down, Me!), but also some gorgeously-crafted acoustic tracks (Lover, Cornelia Street), some pithy political commentary (The Man, Miss America & The Heartbreak Prince) and the sort of musical diversions (Paper Rings’ irresistible rockabilly stomp, the childlike oddity of It’s Nice To Have A Friend) that no other pop superstar would have the sheer musical chops to attempt, let alone pull off.

“Taylor’s creative instincts as an artist and songwriter are brilliant,” says Monte Lipman, founder and CEO of Swift’s US label, Republic. “Our partnership represents a strategic alliance built on mutual respect, trust, and complete transparency. Her vision is extraordinary as she sets the tone for every campaign and initiative.”

No wonder David Joseph, chairman/CEO of her long-time UK label Virgin EMI’s parent company Universal Music UK, is thrilled with how things are going.

“Love Story was a fitting first single release for Taylor here - she’s loved the UK from day one and has engaged so much with her fans and teams,” says Joseph. “She really respects and values what’s going on here creatively. To see her go from playing the Students’ Union at King’s College to Wembley Stadium has been extraordinary. Taylor is an artist constantly striving for perfection, and with Lover - from my personal point of view, her most accomplished work to date adore working with her and whilst it’s been more than 10 years this still feels like the start.”

And today, Swift is keen to concentrate on the present and future. She has a starring role in Cats coming up (and a new song on the soundtrack, Beautiful Ghosts, co-written with Andrew Lloyd Webber) and, after a spectacularly intimate Paris launch show in September, festival dates and her own LoverFest to plan (UK shows will be revealed soon). Time, then, to tell the cats to calm down and sit down with Music Week to talk streaming, contracts and why she’s “obsessed” with the music industry...

Unlike with Reputation, most of the discussion around Lover seems to have been focused on the music... Absolutely! One of the ideas I had about this record, and something I’ve implemented into my life in the last couple of years is that I don’t like distractions. And, for a while, it felt like my life had to come with distractions from the music, whether it was tabloid fascination with my personal life or my friendships or what I was wearing. I realised in the last couple of years that, if I don’t give a window into distraction, people can’t try to look in and see something other than the music. I love that, if you really pour yourself into the idea that an album is still important and try really hard to make something that is worth people’s attention span, time and energy, that can still come across. Because we are living in an industry right now where everyone’s rushing towards taking us into a singles industry and, in some cases, it has become that. But there are still some cases where clearly the album is important to people.

Does it matter that some new artists won’t get to make albums the way you always have? It’s interesting. Five years ago I wrote an op-ed in the Wall Street Journal and said, maybe in the next five years, we would see artists releasing music the way that they want to. I thought that each artist would start to curate what is important to them, not just from an artistic standpoint but from a marketing standpoint. It’s really interesting to see different release plans, if you look at what Drake did and then what Beyoncé does, incredible artists who have really curated what it is to drop music in their own way. We all do it differently, which is cool. As long as people dropping just singles want to be doing that, then I’m fine with it, but if it feels like a big general wave that’s being pressured by people in power, their teams or their labels, that’s not cool. But I do really hope that in the future artists have more of a say over strategy. We’re not just supposed to make art and then hand it to a team that masterminds it.

Were you worried about putting an album on streaming on release day for the first time? Well, there are ways that streaming services could really promote the [whole] album in a more incentivised way. We could have album charts on streaming. The industry follows where they can get prizes. So you have a singles chart on streaming services which is great but, if you split things up into genre charts for example, that would really incentivise people. It’s important that we keep trying to strive to make the experience better for users but also make it more interesting for artists to keep wanting to achieve. But I really did love the experience of putting the album on streaming. I loved the immediacy, I loved that people who maybe weren’t a huge diehard fan were curious and saying, ‘I wonder what this is like’ and listening to it and deciding that they liked it.

You’d resisted streaming for a long time. Have you changed your mind about the format now? I always knew that I would enjoy the aspects of streaming that make [your music] so immediately available to so many people. That’s the part of it that I unequivocally always felt really sad I was missing out on. There wasn’t ever a day when I woke up and I was like, ‘Oh, I’m really glad that multitudes of people don’t have access to my music!’ So I always knew that streaming was an incredible mechanism and model for the future but I still don’t think we have the royalties and compensation system worked out. That’s between the labels and their artists and I realised that me, to use a gross word, ‘leveraging’ what I can bring to cut a better deal for the artists at my record label was really important for me.

How big a factor were things like that in you signing to Republic/Universal? That’s important to me because that means they’re adopting some of my ideas. If they take me on as an artist that means they really thought it through. Because with me, come opinions about how we can better our industry. I’m one of the only people in the artist realm who can be loud about it. People who are on their fifth, sixth or seventh album, we’re the only ones who can speak out, because new artists and producers and writers need to work. They need to be endearing and likeable and available to their labels and streaming services at all times. It’s up to the artists who have been around for a second to say, ‘Hey guys, the producers and the writers and the artists are the ones who are making music what it is’. And we’re in a great place in music right now thanks to them. They should be going to their mailbox and feeling like they’ve got a pension plan, rather than feeling like, ‘Oh yay, I can pay half my rent this month after this No.1 song’.

Did you have more creative freedom making Lover than on your previous albums? In my previous situation, there were creative constraints, issues that we had over the years. I’ve always given 100% to projects, I always over-delivered, thinking that that generosity would be returned to me. But I ended up finding that generosity in a new situation with a new label that understands that I deserve to own what I make. That meant so much to me because it was given over to me so freely. When someone just looks at you and says ‘Yes, you deserve what you want’, after a decade or more of being told, ‘I’m not sure you deserve what you want’ - there’s a freedom that comes with that. It’s like when people find ‘the one’ they’re like, ‘It was easy, I just knew and I felt free’. All of a sudden you’re being told you’re worth exactly, no, more than what you thought you were worth. And that made me feel I could make an album that was exactly what I wanted to make. There’s an eclectic side to Lover, a confessional side, it varies from acoustic to really poppy pop, but that’s what I like to do. And, while you would never make something artistic based on something so unromantic as a contract, it was more than that. It was a group of people saying, ‘We believe in what you’re making, go make what you want to make and you deserve to own it too’.

You’re obviously not happy about what’s happened at Big Machine since you left. But will the attention mean artists don’t find themselves in this situation in the future? I hope so. That’s the only reason that I speak out about things. The fans don’t understand these things, the public isn’t being made aware. This generation has so much information available to them so I thought it was important that the fans knew what I was going through, because I knew it was going to affect every aspect of my life and I wanted them to be the first to know. And in and amongst that group, I know there are people that want to make music some day. It involves every new artist that is reading that and going, ‘Wait, that’s what I’m signing?’ They don’t have to sign stuff that’s unfair to them. If you don’t ask the right questions and you sit in front of the wrong desk in front of the wrong person, they can take everything from you.

Songwriters are in dispute with Spotify in the US over its decision to appeal the Copyright Board decision to boost songwriting royalties. Do writers need more respect? Absolutely. In terms of the power structure, the songwriters, the producers, the engineers, the people who are breathing magic into our industry, need to be listened to. They’re not being greedy. This is legitimately an industry where people are having trouble paying their bills and they’re the most talented people we have. This isn’t them sitting in their mansions going, ‘I wish this mansion was bigger and I would like a yacht please’. This is actually people who are going to work every single day. I got into writing when I was in Nashville and it was very much like what I read about the Brill Building. You would write every day, whether you were inspired or not, and in the process I met artists and writers. Somebody would walk in and someone would say, ‘Oh, he’s still getting mailbox money from that Faith Hill cut a couple of years ago, he’s set’. That’s not a thing anymore. Mailbox money is a thing of the past and we need to remember that these are the people that create the heartbeat that we’re all dancing to or crying to.

You were clearly aware of music industry machinations from a young age... Reading back on the journal entries, I forgot how obsessed I was with the industry as a teenager. I was so fascinated by how it works and how it was changing. Every part of it was interesting to me. I had drawn the stages for most of my tours a year before I went on them. That really was fun for me as a teenager! A lot of people who start out very young in music, either don’t have a say or don’t have the will to do the business side of it, but weirdly that was so much fun for me to try and learn. I had a lot of energy when I was 16!

Are you doing similar drawings for next year’s LoverFest? Definitely. And that’s why it’s still fun for me to take on a challenge like, ‘Oh, let’s just plan our own festival’. Let’s create a bill of artists and try and make it as fun as possible for the fans. I’m so intrigued by what that’s going to be like.

Finally, when we last did an interview in 2015, you said in five years’ time you wanted to be “finding complexity in happiness”. How has that worked out? That’s exactly what’s happened with this album! I think a lot of writers have the fear of stability, emotional health and happiness. Our whole careers, people make jokes about how, ‘Just wait until you meet someone nice, you’ll run out of stuff to write about’. I was talking to [Cats director] Tom Hooper about this because he said one thing his mother taught him was, ‘Don’t ever let people tell you that you can’t make art if you’re happy’. I thought that was so amazing. He’s a creator in a completely different medium but he has been subjected to that same joke over and over again that we must be miserable to create. Lover is important to me in so many ways, but it’s so imperative for me as a human being that songwriting is not tied to my own personal misery. It’s good to know that, it really is!

[howaminotinthestrokesyet]

All The Love in the World: A Tour History of Nine Inch Nails

Pretty Hate Machine Tour Series (1988-1991)

The first performance ever by Nine Inch Nails took place at the Phantasy Theater in Lakewood, Ohio on October 21, 1988. Their first performances came in support of the band Skinny Puppy, even before Trent Reznor had even signed to a label. The first major tour in support of their debut album, Pretty Hate Machine took place beginning in 1990. In a completely ridiculous occurrence, the band joked in an interview in 1989, probably while drunk, they would like to appear on the teen dance show, Dance Party USA. The absurd aspect of that statement came in the fact that the band actually did appear on the show after apparently mocking it in that interview. In support of the album, Nine Inch Nails would open for artists such as Peter Murphy and Jesus and the Mary Chain. For his part, Reznor began smashing all of his equipment on stage contributing to early success with rock audiences as they loved his aggressive persona. One should note that from the onset fans were probably not made completely aware that Reznor did everything in the studio, while he hired a touring band that had nothing to do with the album's creation.

Self Destruct Tour (1994-1996)

This full length tour came in support of The Downward Spiral released in 1994. A major change that occurred between this tour and previous ones came in the fact that each show was much more aggressive, angry, and even violent. Band members would actually try to injure each other during the performance. The curtains for the stage were completely filthy, while the dysfunctional lights on stage made it quite difficult to make out the band. The entire group would dress in all black leather while covering themselves in corn starch. They would change their hairstyles radically from show to show. Sometimes Reznor would bring out his protégé Marilyn Manson to sing with the band. The coming out party for them came at Woodstock in 1994. Through pay-per-view, their performance was seen by 24 million people throughout the world. This performance has become widely known among fans as the mud show because the group performed their entire set while completely covered in mud. Some have said that the band had preplanned doing so, but in truth they were only messing around backstage before the show. A reason why one should find this to be true was that all the mud made it hard for band members to see and Reznor to even walk around. Their set would win the band a Grammy award in 1995 for Best Metal Performance as Entertainment Weekly had this to say about it. "Reznor unstrings rock to its horrifying, melodramatic core--an experience as draining as it is exhilarating.” With The Downward Spiral and their performance at Woodstock, the band became a household name in the mainstream, so future shows could spend much more money production wise on visual effects and stage set ups. Later on the tour, Nine Inch Nails did 26 shows with David Bowie. The reviews said that they were not very good because the two musicians had music so vastly different that audiences did not respond very well to Nine Inch Nails. Trent Reznor does not remember that particular tour very well as he talked about in a 1999 interview. "On a lot of that tour, I don't even remember playing the shows. I got off the bus after two years going, 'Who am I?' That tour was really about excess… We were all drug addicts and full-on party machines, and that was one of the factors that led to me being in a very depressed state at the end."

The Fragility Tour (1999-2000)

This tour came in support of the 1999 album, The Fragile, which would be divided into two legs called 1.0 and 2.0 respectively. Each show saw a very high end video display developed by Bill Viola showing images of water and storms. Reznor would comment on increasing the budget for the tour on that end. “I don't want to do the standard 'rock band in a hockey arena' show. I want to up the par a little bit. I think our stage show has had a lot of thought put into it. It's not like a Korn or Rob Zombie show where they just go into the prop cupboard and pull out as much shit as they can. I hope, when people see our shows, they go, 'Fuck, that was smarter than that Korn tour I saw, but not in a pretentious way – it kicked ass.'” Rolling Stone would go on to name the Fragility 2.0 Tour as the best in music that year. In July 2000, the remainder of the tour was canceled due to band illness. Trent Reznor had overdosed on heroin while doing shows in London. He was addicted to cocaine at the time, so he snorted some heroin mistaking it for his drug of choice. Following the incident, the singer entered rehab and eventually got himself clean permanently.

Live: With Teeth (2005-2006)

This tour supported the band’s With Teeth release, which successfully brought Nine Inch Nails back into the public's consciousness after Trent Reznor‘s rehab stint. The supporting acts during the tour were Queens of the Stone Age, Autolux, and Death From Above 1979. One notable tour stop came at the Voodoo Music Experience in New Orleans, where the band was joined on stage by Saul Williams. Reznor had made a point to support any fundraising for his former home area as New Orleans had been completely devastated by Hurricane Katrina. In the summer of 2006, the band would participate in an amphitheater tour with Bauhaus, Peaches, and TV on the Radio called The Beside You in Time Tour.

Other Tours

Performance 2007 (2007)... This tour eventually supported the release Year Zero, but initially it had been meant as a greatest hits tour before the release of the album. They dialed down the stage set up and video for these shows to keep it at a bare minimum.

Lights In The Sky (2008)...This tour supported initially the Ghosts I-IV release and eventually The Slip as well. Supporting acts for the tour included Deerhunter, Crystal Castles, Does It Offend You, Yeah?, Ghostland Observatory, A Place to Bury Strangers, and White Williams. This would include headlining the Virgin Music Festival and Lollapalooza. A unique addition to each performance came as the band would perform acoustic versions of well-known songs. In order to stop ticket scalpers, premium seats were only offered to registered members of the Nine Inch Nails fan club, which gave them access to a pre-sale before tickets became available to the general public.

Wave Goodbye (2009)... This brief tour came after Trent Reznor‘s decision to not perform live shows in the name of Nine Inch Nails indefinitely. The band did a short autumn tour of small clubs that they had not played in a long time concluding at the Wiltern in Los Angeles.

Twenty Thirteen Tour (2013–2014)... This tour was to support the band's first album in almost 5 years, Hesitation Marks. The support on the tour would come from Godspeed You! Black Emperor and Explosions. The group would play at major festivals during the tour including the Fuji Rock Festival, Rockin’ Heim in Germany, and the Reading/Leeds Festival in England.

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[nashofficial]

HOW TO BECOME A COMMERCIAL PAINTER (CASE STUDY)

I will be the one who will be helping you guys start, grow or expand your painting business. I want to tell you a bit about myself and how I got started with the painting business. I have been in the painting business for nine years now; and I started when I was eighteen, and I worked with the company for over six years. By the time I was twenty-four,

I had generated two and a half million dollars of businesses with painting, I trained sixty other people to start and run their own painting companies, and since then, I started my own company in the last three years.

I have helped about ten of my best friends start their own companies, and I also helped strangers and people I've never met around the country start or grow their painting businesses. So, I've been doing this a lot, I know a ton about different systems, and that's what I would like to get into sharing with you guys.

But first, I want to tell you why I think the painting business is such a great thing and why I helped ten of my friends here in Colorado start their painting businesses.

Many of them have become my competition and what has been exciting about that is that although I began to help some of my friends create their own painting companies in the same cities. As I am, we continue to grow when we compete. And the reason that is that the painting business is perfect competition, it's a straightforward business, and when you know what you're doing,

it's Straightforward to grow a painting company. So, to give you an idea, I started my painting business three years ago, and now it's a six-figure business; we do about $750,000 in revenue this year. Makeover six figures, you know, make over $100,000;

I work only about 5-10 hours a week on my painting business, and I only work ten months out of the year. So, every November and December, I take the year off, and in January, I work about 20 hours a week and then February through the rest of the year.

I'm only working 5-10 hours a week, and I want to show you how I do that. So, I'm going to start by showing you this is really how my business is set up. So first of all, there is three parts to your business and three central systems that you're going to need to develop and that I'm going to be teaching you.

So, the first one is marketing, and then we also have sales, so marketing is where we are generating potential clients, so leads that's what we will call that Marketing is legendary Leads. These people want SMS, people who are thinking about painting.

Sales is the process of actually, once you have got the information, contacting the customer through the end of the sales whether they decide to hire you are not.

So, I would say this is you know one side of the business, and then once you have customers, the other System that you need to develop is a system for production.

So that's going to be the other side of the business, so these are the three systems that we needed to create. To hear how my company is set up, here I am at the top. This is me, Eric, over here on sales and marketing. I have Ben. So, Ben has been working with me for a couple of years and Ben is in charge of all sales and Marketing,

so he is my sales manager. Ben's job is to manage our sales reps, so he has four sales reps who work underneath him.

So, sales reps their job is to do all the marketing and the sales. What that means, we a system for marketing, so when we hire a sales rep, we have a system that we are going to teach them, so they constantly get a nice flow of leads that they can go out and do estimates for. And we have a simple system to do that, and they actually will pay for and take care of both of these.

Things Ben's only job is to manage these four sales reps, and they are the ones who generate all of our marketing and all of our sales, so they go out every week, and they generate leads, and they generate sales, and every week they come back, and they meet Ben.

On Monday, they meet Ben, and they turn in all of their jobs to Ben, so they hand in all the jobs they book. Here is client Johnson Smith and all these jobs. Then what Ben does, is he sets goals and makes a plan for them to hit their destinations the following week.

Then Ben takes those folders and those new clients, and he takes them, and he meets with Paul. So, Paul, he is my production manager, so Paul's job is once we book a client, Paul is the one who contacts the client, he helps them figure out their colors, he helps them deal with a homeowner's association, answer any questions they have, but most importantly he manages all the scheduling. And so, once a client has their job, their house is entirely ready to go, Paul goes, and he meets with one of his six subcontractors.

So down here, we have Subcontractors, so these are people who own painting businesses themselves. They are usually not people who like to do marketing and sales; they want to do the production.

And so, they are generally willing to do this for a lower price than we sell the job at, so Paul has hired and manages all these subcontractors and deals with the schedule.

So, on a week-to-week basis, I meet with Ben on Monday to help him support his sales reps, and then I meet with Paul on Monday to make sure he is managing everything with the schedules. So that's about an hour and a half meeting with each of them, and then they take care of Everything else.

So, Paul deposits all of the checks when we finish jobs, he puts them right in my bank account for me, and when we book appointments, Ben goes and puts all the deposits into my bank account for me. So, besides meeting with these guys every week, the only other thing that I do is that every two weeks, I run payroll, which takes me about an hour, and I set up a straightforward system for that as well.

And the other thing that I do is I feel phone calls here and throughout the weeks. So busy weeks that might be a few hours of phone calls, not so busy weeks, like this time of year, I don't get many phone calls. So, this is as simple as the business can look. So, what you need to do to set up a company like this is creating a system.

This works because we have plans for our sales reps to follow; something significant to know is that our sales reps are the ones we hire every year. And have never made sales before in painting. We take people, usually like college students or young people who have never made sales, and we bring them in, run them through our marketing and training system, train them how to do it, and people are super effective. That was our journey to become a commercial painter.

[deadcactuswalking]

REVIEWING THE CHARTS: 15/05/2021 (Coldplay, J. Cole, Trippie Redd & Playboi Carti)

I’m awful at predicting this chart, I really am, but most of that is probably down to how I only make vague predictions at the end of each episode without even considering most releases that’ll actually chart. Let’s just say I didn’t expect nine new arrivals this week. At the top, however, little has changed as the absolutely huge “Body” by Russ Millions and Tion Wayne with a remix featuring whoever the hell is spending its second week at #1. The rest of the chart, however, gets a bit more interesting. Welcome back to REVIEWING THE CHARTS.

Rundown

The biggest story to effect the chart this week is of course 2021’s BRIT Awards happening this Tuesday, which I’m sure boosted a lot of songs during the mid-week. I also actually covered the awards show on that day if you’re curious, with some of my observations, predictions and opinions. We can very clear see – or hear, for that matter – the impact of the BRIT Awards in this week’s chart, as it did cause a lot of gains and new arrivals that shook up the chart right in the middle of the tracking week. Firstly, we do have some drop-outs from the UK Top 75, which is what I cover, only one of them, “Paradise” by MEDUZA and Dermot Kennedy, being all that important given it was a top five hit but we do have a handful that lasted five or more weeks or peaked in the top 40, like “Medicine” by James Arthur flopping embarrassingly, “Addicted” by Jorja Smith dropping out to prepare for the rebound next week given her album release and “Solid” by Young Stoner Life, Young Thug and Gunna featuring Drake.

Speaking of Drake, he also provides the singular returning entry as “Wants and Needs” featuring Lil Baby is proving to be the actual hit from that three-pack from March, coming back to #65. Scaling down the chart, we also have some notable losses, songs that dropped at least five spots on this week’s chart. Those that fell include “Your Power” by Billie Eilish dropping harshly to #15 off of the debut, as well as “Your Love (9PM)” by ATB, Topic and A7S at #18, “Confetti” by Little Mix to #21 off of the return (with Saweetie, the artist quite literally solely the reason it’s had this second wind, still bizarrely left without a credit by the UK Singles Chart), “My Head & My Heart” by Ava Max at #27, “Titanium” by Dave at #31, “Wellerman” by Nathan Evans and remixed by 220 KID and Billen Ted (yes, THEY’RE credited) at #36, “Patience” by KSI featuring YUNGBLUD and Polo G at #42, “Heartbreak Anniversary” by Giveon at #44, “We’re Good” by Dua Lipa at #47, “Way Too Long” by Nathan Dawe, Anne-Marie and MoStack at #49, “Head & Heart” by Joel Corry and MNEK at #51, “Beautiful Mistakes” by Maroon 5 and Megan Thee Stallion at #55, “Don’t Play” by Anne-Marie, KSI and Digital Farm Animals at #56, “Calling My Phone” by Lil Tjay and 6LACK at #59, “Commitment Issues” by Central Cee at #67, “You” by Regard, Troye Sivan and Tate McRae at #69, “Get Out My Head” by Shane Codd at #70, “Hold On” by Justin Bieber getting ACR’d at #71, “Streets” by Doja Cat at #73 and finally, “6 for 6” by Central Cee at #75.

Filling up the room for those losses, however, are the gains, always a tad more interesting, as the songs that rose at least five spots on this week’s chart – or make their first appearance in the top 40, 20 or 10 – are usually having the BRITs to thank to some capacity. The climbers include “Summer 91 (Looking Back)” giving Noizu his first top 40 hit at #31 (and I’ll admit, the song is growing on me), Griff also getting her first with “Black Hole” at #35 thanks to her win and performance at the BRITs, “WITHOUT YOU” by The Kid LAROI rebounding to #13 thanks to that once-again uncredited remix with Miley Cyrus and finally, entering the top 10 for the first time is “Anywhere Away from Here” by Rag’n’Bone Man and P!nk at #9, getting the boost from a perfect trifecta of gains: Rag’n’Bone Man released his album on Friday then on Tuesday had the closing performance of this song at the BRIT Awards with additional vocals from the Lewisham and Greenwich NHS choir, who are also now appearing on a new release of the song the day after, prompting a whole lot of sales, of which I assume and hope are going to charity. It’s Rag’n’Bone Man’s third top 10 hit, P!nk’s 21st(!) and interestingly enough, the NHS choir’s second top 10 hit as they had the Christmas #1 back in 2015. With all of that out of the way, I suppose it’s time to get to our varied array of new arrivals.

NEW ARRIVALS

#74 – “Dick” – Starboi3 featuring Doja Cat

Produced by Nius and SoFLY

This week is kind of a weird week if that wasn’t immediately obvious as our new arrivals are kind of all over the place, starting with... well, I think I could say less about the song than the title does. Starboi3 is this SoundCloud rapper from New Jersey who made a song with Doja back in 2019 – I assume she was more accessible for features back then –and it didn’t blow up at all, really, giving Starboi3 some additional traction but not until 2020, in which Doja Cat got her #1 hit and TikTok picked up this explicit single as a new sound. Sadly – or thankfully – the song was never released officially onto streaming until very recently, meaning, surely, the hype’s over by now? The answer to that is no, as it’s climbing up charts in both the UK and the Bubbling Under in the US... so there’s got to be something good about this song, right? Well, no. Not at all. Of course, that is subjective, but I do question your sanity if you’re honestly enjoying this unlikeable nobody shout “Dick!” over a basic, no-melody trap instrumental with heavy 808s not too dissimilar to drill, before going into a beyond basic chorus and verse about, well, you can guess, with rhymes sounding either like an awful freestyle or a kid with a rhyming dictionary. “She not with him tonight, she not with Jim tonight”? Of course, that’s in the post-chorus because if there’s one thing this song needs, it’s a freaking post-chorus. I also don’t think Starboi3 realises that making her scream for her parents is quite the opposite of sexy – or even raunchy and mindless, as it’s actually just creepy and terrifying. Speaking of terrifying, Doja Cat is here and not even she can add a less basic flow with a verse that just ends up going in one ear and out the other, even if I do like the seductive backing vocals that at least try to make this not a slow, joyless slog. However, I do NOT like the Pickle Rick reference. To be fair, this was 2019, but also to be fair, never reference that again, I am begging you. This is a disaster on all fronts and probably one of the worst tracks I’ve had to review in this series. Good start!

#64 – “Freaks” – Surf Curse

Produced by Surf Curse

This new song is actually even older, being released initially as a deep cut from this Nevada duo’s 2013 album. As you’ll probably tell, this is charting off of people streaming after hearing the song on TikTok and, I mean, at least the song’s actually good this time, careening off of a clearly surf-inspired clean riff surrounded by some basic drumming and a good bassline. It’s not great as it does feel increasingly basic as I said, almost like one of those local bands that don’t get much national attention or traction but do play some gigs and get some love at those places, to the point where it’s kind of big if they play shows outside of their region... which makes sense because that is exactly what they are. This is just some band from Reno but here it is charting on the UK Singles Chart and while it’s here, I should say whilst there’s not much here to discuss given how minimal it is, Nick Rattigan’s vocals are fittingly desperate for the theme of social alienation and particularly rejection as it’s pretty obvious he’s aiming venom at himself for a bad break-up, although given the sound and tone of the song, probably his first, with that double meaning of the mantra in the outro, “I won’t wake up this time”, potentially being a crushing line for someone in similar circumstances. That’s not me, exactly, so this doesn’t hit, but I’m glad that Machine Gun Kelly song from last week got replaced with some actually decent alternative rock on the chart. I hope this does well.

#60 – “One Day” – Lovejoy

Produced by Cameron Nesbitt

“One Day” is the biggest track from new English rock band Lovejoy’s debut EP, Are You Alright?, and whilst I was planning on not mentioning the fact that the band is fronted by Minecraft YouTuber Wilbur Soot, that is the only reason it’s charting – and he’s charted with “Your New Boyfriend” a couple months back, a song that I actually kind of liked. It’s also immediately obvious in the writing that this comes from an Internet personality, with some not-so-well-woven detail and increasingly gratuitous self-awareness that eventually cycles back and ends up as seeming like they have none at all... okay, like most indie bands but that’s beside the point. This happens to be Wilbur’s least favourite song on the release – one that I haven’t listened to because even if I’m not too old for mindless pop music, Minecraft YouTuber alt-rock may be where I draw the line – and I can completely understand the distaste for this given that it starts with the line, “Why’d you have to kill my cat?” I also have some qualms with the song sonically as it may be the most derivative rock single I’ve heard on this series, given how obviously it rips from indie rock bands of the 2000s, with an oddly clean mix that doesn’t exactly fit the obvious stream-of-consciousness lyrics and Wilbur’s erratic delivery. Also, there’s a whole lot of trumpet on this song, which I guess is a surprise, but that doesn’t make up for a drummer who can clearly play very well but has to chaotically play over a song with practically no groove. I do like that second chorus in how it builds up to a somewhat anti-climactic guitar solo but as a full song I do not really get the appeal of this that I don’t get out of other post-punk revival bands from decades back who are still pumping out music. This isn’t bad – I swear, don’t dox me – but I just want something more compelling from this. I will always be glad regardless of the quality that we have more rock on the chart, though, even if this’ll be gone by next week.

#57 – “It’s a sin” – Years & Years and Elton John

Produced by Stuart Price and the Pet Shop Boys

One of my favourite performance from the BRIT Awards this year was Olly Alexander of Years & Years sharing the stage with the iconic Elton John to cover Pet Shop Boys’ “It’s a Sin” which had renewed interest from last year as it was the namesake for a hit TV series about HIV/AIDS, for which this fittingly played a role and has kind of been recontextualised as a gay anthem, which makes complete sense if you look at its lyrics about the Church telling Neil Tennant “how to be”. It’s also one of the Pet Shop Boys’ most camp and theatrical songs, so giving it to Years & Years and Elton John to cover for the BRIT Awards make all too much sense. No, they’re not able to live up to the theatricality of the original, especially if Alexander’s vocals are going to be this clearly manipulated at points, but with Elton John’s piano laying a perfect foundation for the rising intensity of the track, we do get a sense of that original melodrama, with the synth-work and house groove coming in before Elton John’s voice, sounding smokier and wiser with age, and in my opinion, more compelling as a vocalist, especially if they’re both going to sell this song with the most convicted of deliveries. I don’t think a cover could ever live up to that original iconic track but if anyone’s going to get close, it’s Elton John. Expect this to rise next week.

#50 – “Never Left” – Lil Tecca

Produced by ThankYouWill, Taz Taylor and Cxdy

I’ll always be annoyed that Lil Tecca blew up as a rapper instead of a producer, as I don’t think this guy has any likeability or charisma about his flow, cadence or delivery, and that’s only after you get over how dry and whiny his voice can get. However, he can make some great and incredibly infectious beats for other rappers, including a song I see becoming a hit soon in SoFaygo’s “Knock Knock”, which I will bet on at least making the Billboard Hot 100 if not the UK Singles Chart. It’s unbelievably catchy. With that said, Tecca is here in the form of some SoundCloud raps over a boring synth pluck and vaguely tropical Internet Money trap beat, sounding and flowing way too much like Gunna for his own benefit, or Gunna’s benefit, if we’re honest, as this shows how easily he can be replaced. I usually don’t write off this type of rap and will absolutely defend it, but this song isn’t even catchy or unique. I mean, I don’t like “Ransom” either but at least it was kind of fun and I still know the lines in the chorus a couple years later. I’ll forget all about this by next week if it doesn’t stick around. At least he shouts out Chief Keef. God, I hope he charts sometime, that’d be funny.

#45 – “All I Know So Far” – P!nk

Produced by Greg Kurstin

So, P!nk is back but not with a studio album, rather an upcoming live album in which the two new, original songs are about or featuring her daughter. This is the second single from said album and is probably coasting off her appearance at the BRITs in terms of a relatively high chart debut. I’ve never been that big a fan of P!nk but she has her classics, none of which are in the past 15 years but that’s beside the point. This single in particular is an acoustic ballad dedicated to her daughter in which P!nk provides a rapid intensity alongside pretty great-sounding acoustic guitars, pounding drums and strings that sells the content about empowering yourself, with some nice lyrical detail about always being yourself, basically, which would come off as cliché and preachy if it weren’t for some oddly specific lyrics in those verses and the chorus that basically just tell her daughter that despite the fact the world will constantly try to crack down on her and everything she does much like life does to anyone but especially women, she should stand up for herself and what she believes in. However, none of that cuts deep when she’s being raised by a millionaire, huh? There’s little Hell to be put through when you’re born with a silver spoon, huh, Willow? Regardless, this isn’t a bad pop song and its content isn’t as misguided as it is just sang by the wrong singer, although I’d find it hard to get a singer with as much rasp and wisdom in the mainstream to sell this as convincingly as P!nk does – vocally, not lyrically. This is a couple steps above that last single, “Cover Me in Sunshine” at least, which was just insidious. Next.

#32 – “Miss the Rage” – Trippie Redd featuring Playboi Carti

Produced by Loesoe

Okay, so all of our last three new arrivals are in the top 40 and we start with... o-okay, well, it’s 2021, anything can and will chart and I should know this by now, but it’s still surprising to see a song by these two guys debut so high, especially since Whole Lotta Red produced absolutely no charting hits in the UK outside of “@ MEH”, which doesn’t really count. This is Trippie’s highest-charting song ever in the UK that isn’t fronted by KSI, so I guess streaming must have been that good – also, the charts are still weak. For what it’s worth, I do like both Trippie and Carti to their respective extents, and I am aware that this is only as big as it was because of the hype from the leak, which also featured Mario Judah, and that in itself was a big song but it took years for Carti’s feature to be cleared by the label, as is infamously true for much of Carti’s work and even his last official collaboration with Trippie that was actually deleted after release. I’m still hoping on an official release for his verse on Yung Lean’s “Yayo”, but whilst we have this instead, I might as well talk about it and... Well, let me explain to you what I see as the appeal of these two rappers. That appeal is, mostly, that they don’t rap even though they both very much can. Trippie yells, moans, growls, screams and spends most of his work singing in his typical raspy, venomous voice, whilst Playboi Cart spits and coughs his way through substance-less ad-libs to the point where any actual wordplay or lyrical detail gets you excited for that brief moment. In this song, Trippie and Carti don’t eschew the typical role of a rapper and both just... rap normally, which would not be a complaint if they weren’t so bland in that role, which is the whole point of their unique, phlegm-filled deliveries in the first place. As a result, this song just ends up feeling empty, even if this awfully-mixed, bass-boosted beat with some lovely distorted video-game synths and hardly audible trap skitters does go incredibly hard. Don’t get me wrong: this is still catchy and Trippie flows very well over a beat that sounds made for him and Carti. Hell, Carti has grown on me so much recently that my fondness for this might just be me eating anything he releases up. With that said, he’s the worst part of the song as his baby-voice style emphasises how lacking this song is in just anything. I do like the wordplay at the tail-end of the verse as, yes, that happens, perhaps not as iconic as some of his other oddly profound or clever lines on his last record but at least it’s something. At least this is some interesting American trap, unlike...

#25 – “i n t e r l u d e” – J. Cole

Produced by J. Cole, Tommy Parker and T-Minus

The pandemic has affected the music industry to the point where big-name rappers release album interludes as lead singles. Said album has songs shorter than this interlude, with most of its dull filler feeling like additional interludes, quite unbefitting for such a big and hyped-up album from Cole which frankly is just another boring addition to an already consistently dull catalogue. I’m just not interested in what Cole has to say because he’s never been likeable and I feel like there’s better rappers that bridge the gap between old and new like how Cole sees himself as doing, the “MIDDLE CHILD”, perhaps, like, you know, Drake? If we want to go for a more direct comparison from lesser-known rappers, the direct comparison I use for this new record is Aminé’s latest, also made up of a variation of trap bangers featuring massive, charting names versus introspective, conscious lyrics, yet Aminé is an interesting character with quotable lyrics that aren’t embarrassing, knows how to write an actual hook and whilst he also brings on both classic and modern features, he’s never out-done by them, creating an actual bridge rather than just some guy who thinks he can write his own role in the industry and culture without his own music backing his case. Unfortunately for me, it works – every freaking time – largely because of his continually loyal fanbase but also a general public interest in the guy that I do not understand, especially when more than a decade into his career, he’s still pushing out mediocre projects. He cuts his album’s length by a ton and still ends up with a bloated record. I barely need to talk about the track itself, right? Even if it has as much structure and effort put into it as his normal songs do, it’s labelled quite literally as an interlude. Sigh, well, in this interlude, Jermaine raps over a drowned-out soul sample and admittedly, sticks to the topic of reminiscing on where he came from, the violence in Fayetteville, a similar violence of which was what killed Nipsey Hussle, who he compares amongst Pimp C and Jesus as they all died at 33. Cole himself is 36 so I guess for once he doesn’t think he’s Jesus. It took him a while to realise.

#12 – “Higher Power” – Coldplay

Produced by Max Martin, Oscar Holter and Bill Rahko

I assumed this would debut at #3 until the BRIT Awards performance gave it a boost to debut at the top but I guess everyone else had the same opinion of that awful opening performance as I did, because here it is at #12. Well, that doesn’t matter, right? Coldplay’s last album similarly underperformed... but at least that time, they had a genuinely ambitious album for once in their careers with some genuine experimentation and themes I did not expect to come out of Coldplay. It was a better album but not an accessible one, with its only pop single being a bittersweet anti-war anthem which trivialises bombing in the Middle East to onomatopoeia. It’s a great song but it wasn’t going anywhere, so it’s no surprise that their next lead single is a soulless synth-pop track produced by Max Martin. Admittedly, the synth tone in the intro is kind of unique in all its nasal 80s nostalgia, but, man, I thought we moved past just rehashing for a hit, Coldplay. This is pretty obviously just a crap attempt at being “Blinding Lights” which trades in its machine-gun loco-motive drum pattern for one that is a lot more stiff, and its iconic, memorable lyrics for a forgettable set of love-struck laziness. Oh, yeah, and Chris Martin is far from the Weeknd both in the studio and live at the BRIT Awards – seriously, dude sounded half-alive. This isn’t offensive, just a bore that is clearly a desperate label move ready for when they can tour again, and if their last record proved anything it was that Coldplay seemed like they were finally above that.

Conclusion

Well, that’s our week – again, a questionable one at best and kind of a bad one at worst. Either way, this is a strange array of songs and I do like how the UK Singles Chart subverts everything you’d expect of it so often that chaos becomes the trend, even if not all of it is any good. I guess Best of the Week goes to “Freaks” by Surf Curse, with an Honourable Mention to Elton John’s cover of “It’s a sin” with Years & Years. Surprisingly enough, J. Cole actually doesn’t get Worst of the Week as the album gets a lot worse than that interlude, so he gets a Dishonourable Mention alongside Starboi3’s “Dick” being crowned Worst of the Week, and honestly probably Worst of the Year so far, not that I’m keeping track of that. Here’s this week’s top 10:

What’s coming next week? More J. Cole, Olivia Rodrigo’s newest single and probably – and hopefully – some album tracks from Jorja Smith and Nicki Minaj. For now, though, thanks for reading. It’s a big week next week, and I’ll see you then!

[myhauntedsalem]

Ghostly warning: Dead gangster Ma Barker doesn’t want her house moved

He called the newsroom with a warning: They can’t move that house.

“I’m worried something terrible is going to happen,” the man said in a thick New York accent. “I have to warn somebody.”

Then he told me a ghost story.

His name is Donald J. Weiss. He’s a 62-year-old retired police patrolman from upstate New York. He had moved to Ocala several years ago and visited the house where gangster Ma Barker had been killed. He had wanted to see the site of the longest shootout in FBI history: four hours, more than 2,000 bullets.

But when he wandered beneath the live oaks, a voice growled, “Get outta here, lawman!”

And when he took a photo of the front porch, a shadowy figure appeared.

“That woman is still in that house,” he told me. “And she’s pissed.”

He gave the photo to the Marion County Sheriff’s Office because he wanted to enter it into evidence. And because bad things started happening as soon as he had blown up the print. “I had a heart attack,” he said. “You think that’s a coincidence?”

The property has been sold, he told me. County officials want to move the house.

“They have no idea who or what is in there,” Weiss said. “That woman has the power to do a lot of things. We are dealing with the afterworld here.”

I thanked the caller for his concern.

“When are they moving it?” I asked.

He paused, as if to make a point, then said gravely, “By Halloween.”

Reporters get a lot of crazy calls. Many might have dismissed this one. But I knew this house, and so did my photographer friend John Pendygraft.

“Hey John,” I called across the cubicle wall. “Do you remember that story we did on the Ma Barker house?”

John’s eyes got big. “Do you remember what happened?”

Our story four years ago had been about real estate: historic home for sale on nine waterfront acres, eight miles north of the Villages, two hours from Tampa. And about the gangsters who hid out there until the end.

We had toured the four-bedroom house with a Realtor, whose assistant shivered and said, “I get the weirdest feeling when I’m in here.” We had reported rumors about flickering lights and an unsuccessful exorcism.

But we hadn’t written about what had happened to John. Or what he saw when he enlarged one of his pictures.

John has worked in war zones in Afghanistan and the Gaza Strip. He has photographed the dead from an Asian tsunami, a Mexican assassination and Hurricane Katrina. If he ever is scared, he won’t show it.

That fall day in 2012, in the Ma Barker house, he had gone alone into the front bedroom to take pictures through the window, looking out toward the lake where the FBI agents had crouched behind trees.

All of a sudden, John rushed out, cameras, lights, tripod flapping over his shoulders, nearly sliding down the 13 stairs. “I don’t know what happened, or what that was,” he panted. He heard the mattress fall, then saw it, dangling through the bed frame. “I didn’t touch it,” he insisted.

We left that afternoon, as dusk began to descend. From beneath the Spanish moss, John shot a few final frames. The next day, when he zoomed in on his laptop, he saw a strange figure on the screened porch: The silhouette of a stout woman with a bun, who looked like she was holding a machine gun.

Her story starts in Missouri, in 1873. Her parents named her Arizona Donnie Clark. She and a farmhand, George Barker, had four sons. As soon as the boys were grown, her husband left.

Legends vary about Ma Barker’s role in her boys’ gang. Some say she just cooked and cleaned. Others say she was the mastermind.

They began by robbing banks, then murdered a policeman. From 1910 through 1930, they are said to have stolen $2 million. And killed at least 10 people.

The FBI’s first director, J. Edgar Hoover, called them “the worst criminals in the entire country.” Ma Barker became the only woman to top the most wanted list.

In 1934, the gang split and went into hiding. One son fled to Chicago. Ma and her favorite son, baby Freddie, moved to Miami where, posing as a wealthy widow, she asked if anyone knew a secluded spot where she could spend the winter.

Someone introduced her to Carson Bradford, whose family had a lovely home in the center of Florida, on Lake Weir.

The house sounded perfect: fully furnished, set back from the road, with a boat tethered to a dock out back. Ma paid the full season’s rent in cash. Just before Thanksgiving, she moved in with Freddie and a couple of his friends.

In a letter to her son Arthur in Chicago, she drew a map of the lake and circled the closest town, Ocala. She mailed it from Ocklawaha’s little post office.

FBI agents found Arthur the following January, and with him, the letter, which led them to Ma’s hideout.

In the predawn darkness on Jan. 16, 1935, a dozen officers pointed their guns at the upstairs windows. “This is the FBI,” an officer shouted, according to an agency report. “You are surrounded.”

Some say the gun battle lasted as long as six hours.

When it was over, they found Freddie, 32, shot in the back of his head. Ma, 63, was curled on the floor, cradling her Tommy gun. That day, Hoover said, marked “the end of an era of violence.”

For nine months, the corpses lay unclaimed. Finally, a relative moved them closer to home.

But some say Ma still inhabits that two-story, cream-colored house with forest green shutters. The cop on the phone, my friend the photographer, the former and current owner all saw, heard or felt … something.

But how do you report a ghost story?

I started with the Marion County Sheriff’s Office and that “evidence” photo the retired cop mentioned on the phone.

Lt. Dave Redmond remembered some man bringing in the photo, but the deputy hadn’t seen anything in it.

Records only go back to 1990, said department spokeswoman Lauren Lettelier. “But since then, there have been no reports of hauntings at that house.”

I talked to Carson Good, 47, the great-grandson of the man who built the house. He has memories of swimming and sailing in the lake. And of countless sleepless nights, cringing in the dark. “I’m not a big believer of ghosts, but I heard a lot of sounds in that house,” he said. “Voices. Furniture moving. People walking up and down the wooden stairs.”

His grandmother didn’t like to talk about it, but she often heard spirits stirring. Years ago, he said, a psychic from Cassadaga held a seance at the house and convinced the ghost of Freddie Barker to move on. But the medium said Ma refused to move.

Good and his family sold the property for $750,000 and donated the house to the county, which hired a contractor to lift the home off its foundation and float it across Lake Weir to a park called Carney Island. County commissioners allocated $270,000 for the move. Private donations and fundraising will finance the museum.

County tax collector George Albright, who grew up next to the storied house, envisions an homage to the early days of the FBI, as agents set out to capture notorious gangsters like “Baby Face” Nelson, “Pretty Boy” Floyd, Bonnie and Clyde and, of course, the infamous Barker gang.

“We’ve already had calls from people asking about ghost tours. If they want something like that, or to hold seances, we’ll look into that,” said the tax collector, “as a revenue source.”

Some say the gang buried Mason jars filled with cash along the lake. Local children used to spend summers digging for the treasure, but came up with shovels full of sand.

As soon as the home is removed, before the new owner closes on the land, the tax collector plans to bring in a team with ground-penetrating radar to scan the soil.

“Let’s hope she’s a friendly ghost,” he said.

On a gray Wednesday in October, more than 81 years after the shootout, John and I returned to the scene. The house already had been lifted on jacks. The screened porch was gone; workers were carrying out lamps. A true-crime novelist was parked in an SUV, taking pictures.

Like John, he swore he had seen a face in a window.

“I think whatever’s in there doesn’t want us to come in,” said Tony Stewart, who had driven from Indiana to see the house in its original setting. “And it won’t come out.”

We had told the retired cop that we would meet him later. The tax collector didn’t want anyone else at the construction site. But Weiss pulled up in his white Cadillac, quaking in his tassled loafers.

“This is where their bodies were. They dragged ‘em right down this driveway,” said Weiss, clasping his arms across his chest. “She’s not at rest. She will never leave this property.”

He has felt this before, he said. “I sense spirits.”

The first time was in 1992, just before Christmas. He was on patrol in White Plains, N.Y., resting in his car between calls, when he had a vision of a sad teenage boy: long hair, pale, with a pug nose. Two days later, he was sent to a home where a teenage boy had hanged himself. “The same boy I’d seen.”

[phroyd]

Louis DeJoy’s prolific campaign fundraising, which helped position him as a top Republican power broker in North Carolina and ultimately as head of the U.S. Postal Service, was bolstered for more than a decade by a practice that left many employees feeling pressured to make political contributions to GOP candidates — money DeJoy later reimbursed through bonuses, former employees say.

Five people who worked for DeJoy’s former business, New Breed Logistics, say they were urged by DeJoy’s aides or by the chief executive himself to write checks and attend fundraisers at his 15,000-square-foot gated mansion beside a Greensboro, N.C., country club. There, events for Republicans running for the White House and Congress routinely fetched $100,000 or more apiece.

Two other employees familiar with New Breed’s financial and payroll systems said DeJoy would instruct that bonus payments to staffers be boosted to help defray the cost of their contributions, an arrangement that would be unlawful.

“Louis was a national fundraiser for the Republican Party. He asked employees for money. We gave him the money, and then he reciprocated by giving us big bonuses,” said David Young, DeJoy’s longtime director of human resources, who had access to payroll records at New Breed from the late 1990s to 2013 and is now retired. “When we got our bonuses, let’s just say they were bigger, they exceeded expectations — and that covered the tax and everything else.”

Another former employee with knowledge of the process described a similar series of events, saying DeJoy orchestrated additional compensation for employees who had made political contributions, instructing managers to award bonuses to specific individuals.

“He would ask employees to make contributions at the same time that he would say, ‘I’ll get it back to you down the road,’ ” said the former employee, who, like others interviewed for this report, spoke on the condition of anonymity out of fear of retribution from DeJoy.

In response to a series of detailed questions from The Washington Post, Monty Hagler, a spokesman for DeJoy, said the former New Breed chief executive was not aware that any employees had felt pressured to make donations.

After repeatedly being asked, Hagler did not directly address the assertions that DeJoy reimbursed workers for making contributions, pointing to a statement in which he said DeJoy “believes that he has always followed campaign fundraising laws and regulations.”

Hagler said DeJoy “sought and received legal advice” from a former general counsel for the Federal Election Commission “to ensure that he, New Breed Logistics and any person affiliated with New Breed fully complied with any and all laws. Mr. DeJoy believes that all campaign fundraising laws and regulations should be complied with in all respects.”

He added that DeJoy “encouraged employees and family members to be active in their communities, schools, churches, civic groups, sporting events and the politics that governs our nation.”

“Mr. DeJoy was never notified by the New Breed employees referenced by the Washington Post of any pressure they might have felt to make a political contribution, and he regrets if any employee felt uncomfortable for any reason,” he added.

A Washington Post analysis of federal and state campaign finance records found a pattern of extensive donations by New Breed employees to Republican candidates, with the same amount often given by multiple people on the same day. Between 2000 and 2014, 124 individuals who worked for the company together gave more than $1 million to federal and state GOP candidates. Many had not previously made political donations, and have not made any since leaving the company, public records show. During the same period, nine employees gave a combined $700 to Democrats.

Although it can be permissible to encourage employees to make donations, reimbursing them for those contributions is a violation of North Carolina and federal election laws. Known as a straw-donor scheme, the practice allows donors to evade individual contribution limits and obscures the true source of money used to influence elections.

Such federal violations carry a five-year statute of limitations. There is no statute of limitations in North Carolina for felonies, including campaign finance violations.

The former employees who spoke to The Post all described donations they gave between 2003 and 2014, the year New Breed was acquired by a Connecticut-based company called XPO Logistics. DeJoy remained at XPO briefly in a leadership role, then retired at the end of 2015. By a year after the sale, several New Breed employees who had stayed on with XPO were giving significantly smaller political contributions and many stopped making them altogether, campaign finance records show.

In a statement, XPO spokesman Joe Checkler said the company “stays out of politics but our employees have the same individual right as anyone else to support candidates of their choosing in their free time. When they do so, we expect them to adhere strictly to the rules.”

The accounts of DeJoy’s former employees, which have not been previously reported, come as his brief tenure so far at the helm of the U.S. Postal Service has been marked by tumult. After his appointment in May, he swiftly instituted changes he said were aimed at cutting costs, leading to a reduction of overtime and limits on mail trips that postal carriers said created backlogs across the country.

Democrats have accused DeJoy, who has personally given more than $1.1 million to Trump Victory, the joint fundraising vehicle of the president’s reelection campaign and the Republican Party, of seeking to hobble the Postal Service because of the president’s antipathy to voting by mail. As states have expanded access to mail voting because of the coronavirus pandemic, Trump has repeatedly attacked the practice and claimed without evidence that it will lead to rampant fraud.

The Postal Service chief emphasized to House lawmakers last month that the agency will prioritize election mail. Responding to questions about his fundraising, DeJoy scoffed. “Yes, I am a Republican. . . . I give a lot of money to Republicans.” But he pushed back fiercely on accusations that he was seeking to undermine the November vote. “I am not engaged in sabotaging the election,” DeJoy said. “We will do everything in our power and structure to deliver the ballots on time.”

During his testimony, DeJoy was asked by Rep. Jim Cooper (D-Tenn.) if he had repaid executives for making donations to the Trump campaign.

“That’s an outrageous claim, sir, and I resent it. . . . The answer is no,” DeJoy responded angrily.

DeJoy had retired from XPO management by 2016. He hosted Trump at his Greensboro estate, known locally as The Castle, for a birthday party and fundraiser in June 2016.

Earlier this year, DeJoy was leading fundraising for the Republican National Convention in Charlotte when he was selected by the Postal Service’s Board of Governors in May.

DeJoy was not originally on a list of prospective candidates for the job, Robert M. Duncan, chairman of the USPS Board of Governors, told House lawmakers in testimony last month. Duncan, a longtime GOP fundraiser, said he submitted DeJoy’s name as a candidate after his “interest, or availability, became known to me.”

A pattern of requests

Multiple New Breed employees said DeJoy’s ascent in Republican politics was powered in part by his ability to multiply his fundraising through his company, describing him as a chief executive who was single-minded in his focus on increasing his influence in the GOP.

In his office, DeJoy prominently displayed pictures of himself with former president George W. Bush; Sen. John McCain, who died in 2018; former New Jersey governor Chris Christie; former vice-presidential candidate Sarah Palin and others, according to former employees.

Several employees said DeJoy reveled in the access his fundraising afforded him.

At a local PGA tournament sponsored by New Breed, he played alongside top North Carolina Republicans such as then-Gov. Pat McCrory and Sen. Richard Burr, according to schedules posted online. “He always had to be the guy in the golf cart with the politicians,” said one person who worked with him who attended the tournaments.

As DeJoy’s profile as a Republican bundler grew, his wife, Aldona Wos, won presidential and gubernatorial appointments — first as an ambassador to Estonia in 2004, then as head of North Carolina’s health and human services agency in 2013. Trump appointed her in May 2017 to serve on the president’s commission on White House fellowships, and earlier this year, he nominated her to be ambassador to Canada.

DeJoy and trusted aides at the company made clear that he wanted employees to support his endeavors — through emails inviting employees to fundraisers, follow-up calls and visits to staffers’ desks, many said.

“He would put pressure on the executives over each of the areas to go to their employees and give contributions,” one former employee said.

While some employees told The Post that they were happy to make the donations, others said they felt little choice, saying DeJoy had a heavy-handed demeanor and a reputation for angering easily.

Plant managers at New Breed said they received strongly worded admonitions from superiors that they should give money when DeJoy was holding fundraisers. A program manager said that when he was handed his first company bonus, a New Breed vice president told him he should buy a ticket to DeJoy’s next fundraiser.

Several employees said New Breed often distributed large bonuses of five figures or higher. Bonuses did not usually correlate with the exact amount of political contributions, but were large enough to account for both performance payments and donations, according to the two people with knowledge of company finances.

Five former employees said DeJoy’s executive assistant, Heather Clarke, personally called senior staffers, checking on whether executives were coming to fundraisers and collecting checks for candidates.

Clarke, who now works alongside DeJoy at the Postal Service as his chief of staff, did not respond to repeated requests for comment. Phone messages left with Clarke’s husband were returned Friday by Hagler, who said she would have no comment.

Clarke was among several nonexecutive employees who gave substantial political donations, public records show: She alone contributed $47,000 from 2002 to 2014. Clarke has continued to donate since then, but at about half the annual rate as when she worked at New Breed.

Another longtime senior official in DeJoy’s company, Joe Hauck, also routinely contacted company employees urging them to contribute, former workers said.

In an interview, Hauck denied that the company reimbursed New Breed employees for political contributions. He said he never received any bonuses for that purpose, nor was he offered any. “That’s illegal — you can’t do that,” said Hauck, who was vice president for sales, marketing and communications when the company was sold.

Hauck did acknowledge approaching employees and asking them to contribute, but disputed that he pressured anyone.

“I created a list of people that had indicated that they were interested. And whenever there was an event coming up, I would let them know about the event and they would either say, ‘Yeah, I want to participate’ or ‘No, I don’t,’ ” he said.

Hauck said he sometimes did collect checks for candidates in the office, but only because some employees “happened to have their checkbooks on them.”

Another manager also said he was not aware of employees being reimbursed, but acknowledged that workers were asked to make donations.

William Church, a former New Breed vice president, said he handed out many bonuses to his employees in the company’s aerospace division and never had knowledge of such payments being connected to political contributions. He said bonus targets in his division were rigid and well-established.

Church, who donated over $21,000 to Republican candidates while at New Breed and said he received substantial bonuses, said he never felt pressured to make the contributions and was never reimbursed for them. “Ask my wife, boy, she would have loved that,” Church said.

Asked whether he believed employees could have felt pressure to attend fundraisers, Church responded: “Now, what’s in somebody’s heart when they’re doing it, when the CEO invites you to one of these things and they think, ‘Oh, I should do that?’ — I don’t know.”

Steve Moore, who took a job as plant manager of a New Breed facility in Bolingbrook, Ill., in 2007, said he felt pressured to contribute just a few months into his job. DeJoy sent managers an email announcing a fundraising event at his house for former New York mayor Rudolph W. Giuliani, then a candidate for president.

Moore said his manager, Philip Meyer, soon followed up, telling him that making a contribution was “highly recommended,” even if he would not attend.

“I took that to mean my job is on the line here, or things won’t go smooth for me here at New Breed if I didn’t contribute,��� Moore said in an interview. He donated $250. “I didn’t really agree with what was going on,” he said. Moore said he was terminated in 2008 after a dispute with his supervisors.

In a text message, Meyer declined to comment.

One of the biggest beneficiaries of donations from New Breed employees has been GOP Sen. Thom Tillis of North Carolina, whose campaign committees collected nearly $300,000 from people at the company in 2014, campaign finance records show.

When asked for comment on the accounts of employees who said they were pressured to donate to DeJoy’s favored candidates, Andrew Romeo, a spokesman for Tillis’s campaign, said in an email: “Neither Senator Tillis nor our campaign had knowledge of these findings.”

'You feel the pressure'

DeJoy did not always seem destined for a life as an influential GOP power broker. As a young man in New York working at his father’s trucking business, DeJoy donated to Democrats, including the party’s 1988 presidential nominee, Michael Dukakis, according to federal campaign finance filings.

After his marriage to Wos, a physician born in Poland who emigrated to New York as a child, DeJoy followed her into conservative politics.

Under DeJoy, New Breed expanded from trucking to logistics, managing delivery and returns of the first iPhones sold by Verizon, airplane parts for Boeing and Disney merchandise, including shipments of MagicBands, employees said.

By the late 1990s, as the family business flourished, thanks in part to contracts with the U.S. Postal Service, DeJoy moved New Breed to North Carolina — and closer to the work it was doing repositioning mail crates, folding mail bags, and other logistical work that the government had begun to outsource.

The move provided new political opportunities for the couple. Wos embraced North Carolina Republican politics and, by the early 2000s, was stepping into national campaigns. She helped lead fundraising efforts in the state for Elizabeth Dole’s 2002 Senate run, and then for Bush’s reelection campaign, according to campaign statements and news articles from the time.

DeJoy began to marshal his resources to support GOP candidates, as well. On one day in February 2002, DeJoy donated $50,000 to a Republican Party fund supporting Bush’s campaign, according to Federal Election Commission records. Another $10,000 came from DeJoy’s brother, Michael, who worked then for New Breed in New York. Another 10 New Breed employees also chipped in $1,000 each that day to Bush, and another $900 or $1,000 each to Dole, campaign finance data show.

In response to a request to Wos for comment, Hagler said, “Dr. Wos had her own career, and she was not involved with New Breed Logistics.”

Young, the retired director of human resources, said it was during the 2004 Bush reelection campaign that he saw DeJoy begin to “take advantage” of his power as CEO to move money for politics.

“No one was ever forced to or lost a job because they didn’t, but if people contributed, their raises and their bonuses were bumped up to accommodate that,” said Young, who gave more than $19,000 in donations while he worked at New Breed.

Ted Le Jeune, a New Breed project manager in North Carolina, said he made a $500 contribution to the Bush campaign in November 2003 after DeJoy took him aside for a discussion in a conference room about donating.

“I was of the same political orientation, so it was not coerced in any way and there was no quid pro quo,” Le Jeune said in an interview. Le Jeune said he has not donated to any political campaign since then.

In 2002, DeJoy and New Breed employees contributed more than $87,000 to support Dole, and before the 2004 presidential election, more than $121,000 to Bush.

Wos was named a Bush “Ranger,” an honorary term for those who delivered at least $200,000 for the Texan’s reelection bid. In a recess appointment before the election, Bush appointed her ambassador to Estonia, a post she held for two years.

Freddy Ford, a spokesman for Bush, declined to comment. Wos did not respond to a request for comment about her appointment.

By 2007, DeJoy was carving his own path politically. With Giuliani leading in early polls for the Republican nomination for president, DeJoy signed on as co-chair of the former mayor’s North Carolina finance committee.

New Breed employees quickly followed.

DeJoy kicked off his fundraising effort by inviting a group of senior New Breed executives who had previously donated to Republicans while at the company to contribute, according to one of those who wrote a check. Campaign finance records show that New Breed employees gave Giuliani’s campaign more than $27,000 in one day.

Giuliani did not respond to a request for comment.

Less than a month later, when Giuliani made a swing through North Carolina, DeJoy invited a broader group of New Breed employees to contribute and take part in a fundraiser, according to people familiar with his outreach. The second effort netted about $40,000 from employees, campaign finance records show.

Moore, the plant director in Illinois, said he received the email inviting employees to give — and he donated reluctantly.

Another middle manager at another New Breed facility said he received the solicitation, too, as well as encouragement in person from Meyer during a plant visit.

“He would come to me and say, ‘Louis is having this thing, and he really wants all the managers there, and you need to contribute,’ ” said the former employee, who spoke on the condition of anonymity, saying he fears DeJoy could sue him.

The former employee said he recalled Meyer saying that not contributing was “not going to have any bearing on your job.”

But he worried that the reverse was true, he said. “You feel the pressure. They tell you it’s not there, and then they put it on you,” he said.

In the North Carolina headquarters, Joel Shepard, who had joined New Breed as director of transportation after stints at Ryder and UPS, said he got a call from Clarke, DeJoy’s executive assistant, making sure Shepard knew that he, too, was invited.

Shepard had never donated to a political candidate before, and he wrote a check for $1,000. He said he did not feel pressured, however. He said he admired Giuliani and “wanted to do it.”

Shepard said he still recalls the donation because he mistakenly wrote the check from an account that was low on funds and it bounced. Clarke, DeJoy’s executive assistant, “came to me and said, ‘Joel, your check bounced.’ I had to write her another one,” he recalled.

In all, dozens of New Breed employees contributed more than $85,000 to Giuliani’s campaign during the primary, including a $16,000 in excess contributions that the campaign returned after Giuliani dropped his bid because multiple employees gave identical contributions that were twice the legal limit.

The only other GOP presidential contender to receive donations from New Breed employees during that year’s primary was Rep. Ron Paul of Texas, campaign finance records show. Together, two employees gave him about $550.

Expanding influence

After Giuliani’s campaign faltered, DeJoy pivoted and put his energy into backing the 2008 McCain-Palin ticket, organizing and hosting multiple fundraisers over the next year. Again, New Breed employees followed. Along with DeJoy, they contributed more than $180,000, FEC records show.

Four years later, an additional $193,000 flowed from DeJoy and other New Breed employees to the 2012 presidential campaign of Mitt Romney, now a U.S. senator from Utah.

Before the 2012 election, more than $170,000 in contributions from DeJoy and New Breed employees would also go to help lift McCrory to the North Carolina governor’s mansion, state campaign finance records show.

The following month, McCrory named Wos, DeJoy’s wife and a retired physician, as his choice for state health secretary.

In an interview, McCrory said Wos’s appointment had no connection to campaign contributions he received. “She was the most qualified person and I had to beg her to take the job,” he said.

Told of The Post’s findings, McCrory said: “I’m not aware of any of these claims.”

During her tenure, Wos drew scrutiny from Democrats after awarding a $310,000 state contract to Hauck, the New Breed employee who colleagues said had urged them to support DeJoy’s fundraising efforts.

At the time, Wos defended her pick, saying Hauck worked on a major restructuring of the department’s bureaucracy.

Hauck said he took a pay cut by going on leave from New Breed to work for Wos for 11 months. “I looked at it as serving,” he said in an interview.

By 2013, Warburg Pincus, a New York-based private-equity firm that had acquired a controlling stake in New Breed eight years earlier, had begun agitating for the company to go public or find another way to return value to its investors, according to three former New Breed employees with knowledge of the company’s finances. News articles in subsequent months quoted people familiar with the company saying Warburg was exploring a sale.

DeJoy tested the market for an initial public offering, filing a confidential draft prospectus with the Securities and Exchange Commission, according to correspondence detailing concerns about the offering flagged by the SEC, which remain archived on the agency’s website.

As the agency began scrutinizing the company’s finances, the SEC appeared to question a lack of information about New Breed executive bonuses and how the company decided they had met their goals for the payments in the previous year. “Please disclose the target and how the target was met or not met or advise,” the SEC’s accounting branch chief wrote in a June 2013 letter to DeJoy. It is unclear whether or how the company responded.

Ultimately, New Breed did not go public. Instead, Warburg Pincus sold it to XPO Logistics the following year for $615 million, according to company announcements and SEC records.

A spokeswoman for Warburg Pincus declined to comment.

The month the deal closed, New Breed employees made a slew of political donations in a two-day period — more than $407,000. Almost three-quarters of that went to support Tillis’s Senate bid.

Clarke, Hauck and DeJoy were among 10 New Breed employees who led the giving. On Sept. 29, each gave identical donations of $12,600 to the Thom Tillis Victory Committee, campaign finance data shows. The next day, the same 10 employees each gave $10,000 to the North Carolina Republican Party.

Since then, five of those individuals have significantly cut back their political contributions, and one has not given again at all, FEC filings show.

Young, who retired that fall, said he sent a note to DeJoy this summer congratulating him upon being named postmaster general. DeJoy may have the skills needed to improve the agency, Young said. But the fundraising that permeated New Breed will remain a mark on his legacy there, he said, adding: “He had an agenda, and would take advantage of people.”

DeJoy never replied to his note, Young said. One of the last things he heard from anyone at New Breed came about a year after he left. Hauck, who by then was working with DeJoy at XPO, called and asked Young to donate to Tillis and other Republicans. “I said, ‘No, thank you.’ ”

Jacob Bogage, Alice Crites, Dan Zak and Michelle Ye Hee Lee contributed to this report. Ken Otterbourg reported from Greensboro, N.C.

Phroyd

[bananaofswifts]

Around this time of year, the Taylor Swift anniversaries come at you thick and fast.

Nine years since her third album, Speak Now, every note of which was written entirely by Swift, hit the shelves. Five years since she released her mould-breaking pop album, 1989, and went from the world’s biggest country star to the world’s biggest pop star overnight. Two years since her Reputation record saw her become the only musician to post four successive million-plus debut sales weeks in the United States. And so on.

But today, Swift’s mind is drawn further back, to the 13th anniversary of her debut, self-titled record, and the days when her album releases weren’t automatically accompanied by mountains of hype and enough think-pieces to sink a battleship. Her journal entries from the time – helpfully reprinted as part of the deluxe editions of her new album, Lover – reveal her as an excited, optimistic teenager, but also one with a grasp of marketing strategies and label politics way beyond her years, even if she was reluctant to actually take credit for her ideas.

“It always was and it always will be an interesting dance being a young woman in the music industry,” she smiles ruefully. “We don’t have a lot of female executives, we’re working on getting more female engineers and producers but, while we are such a drastic gender minority, it’s interesting to try and figure out how to be.”

And, of course, when Swift started out she was, as she points out, “an actual kid”.

“I was planning the release of my first album when I was 15 years old,” she reminisces. “And I was a fully gangly 15, I reminded everyone of their niece! I was in this industry in Nashville and country music, where I was making album marketing calls, but I never wanted to stand up and say, ‘Yeah, that promotions plan you just complimented my label on, I thought of that! Me and my Mom thought of that!’

“When you’re a new artist you wonder how much space you can take up and, as a woman, you wonder how much space you can take up pretty much your whole period of growing up,” she continues. “For me, growing up and knowing that I was an adult was realising that I was allowed to take up space from a marketing perspective, from a business perspective, from an opinionated perspective. And that feels a lot better than constantly trying to wonder if I’m allowed to be here.”

In the intervening years, Taylor Swift has released six further, brilliant albums, growing from country starlet to all-conquering pop behemoth along the way. She takes up “more space”, as she would put it, than any other musician on the planet: a sales and now – having belatedly embraced the format with Lover – streaming phenomenon; a powerhouse stadium performer; an award-garlanded songwriter for herself and others; and a social media giant with a combined 278 million followers across Instagram, Twitter and Facebook (which would make the Taylor Nation the fourth most populous one on earth, after China, India and the US).

But her influence on music and the music industry doesn’t end there. Because, over the years, Swift has also become a leading advocate for artists’ and songwriters’ rights, in a digital landscape that doesn’t always have such matters as a priority.

In 2015, she stood up to Apple Music over its plans to not pay artist royalties during subscribers’ three-month free trials (Apple backed down immediately). She pulled her entire catalogue from Spotify in 2014 in protest that its free tier was devaluing music, sending Daniel Ek scrambling to justify his business model. When she returned in 2017, it was a crucial fillip for the streaming service’s IPO plans.

More recently, her ground-breaking new record deal with Republic Records contained clauses not only guaranteeing her ownership of her future masters, but also ensuring Universal Music will share the spoils of its Spotify shares with its artists, without any payments counting against unrecouped balances. And when her long-time former label boss Scott Borchetta sold Big Machine to Scooter Braun’s Ithaca Holdings, taking Swift’s first six albums with him, the star publicly called out what she saw as her “worst-case scenario” and stressed: “You deserve to own the art you make”. She may yet re-record her old songs in protest.

In short, Swift has, for a long time now, been unafraid to use her voice on industry matters, whether they pertain to her own stellar career or the thousands of other artists out there struggling to make a living.

All of which makes Swift not just the greatest star of our age, but perhaps the most important to the future development of the industry as a more artist-centric, songwriter-friendly business. Hers is still the life of the pop phenomenon – she spent today in Los Angeles doing promotion and photoshoots (or, in her words, “having people put make-up on me”) as Lover continues to build on huge critical acclaim and even huger initial sales. But now, she’s kicking back with her cats – one of whom seems determined to disrupt Music Week’s interview by “stampeding” through at every opportunity – and ready to talk business.

And for Swift, business is good. The impact of her joining streaming, and the decline of traditional album sales, may have prevented her from posting a fifth successive one million-plus sales debut, but Lover still sold more US copies (867,000) in its first week than any record since her own Reputation. It’s sold 117,513 copies to date in the UK, according to the Official Charts Company.

Even better, while Reputation – a record forged in the white heat of a social media snakestorm over her on-going feud with Kanye West – was plenty of show and rather less grow, Lover continues to reveal hidden depths. Reputation struck a sometimes curious contrast between the unrepentant warrior Swift she was showing to the outside world and the love story with British actor Joe Alwyn that was quietly developing behind closed doors, but Lover is the sort of versatile, cohesive album that the streaming age was supposed to kill off.

It contains more than its fair share of pop bangers (You Need To Calm Down, Me!), but also some gorgeously-crafted acoustic tracks (Lover, Cornelia Street), some pithy political commentary (The Man, Miss America & The Heartbreak Prince) and the sort of musical diversions (Paper Rings’ irresistible rockabilly stomp, the childlike oddity of It’s Nice To Have A Friend) that no other pop superstar would have the sheer musical chops to attempt, let alone pull off.

“Taylor’s creative instincts as an artist and songwriter are brilliant,” says Monte Lipman, founder and CEO of Swift’s US label, Republic. “Our partnership represents a strategic alliance built on mutual respect, trust, and complete transparency. Her vision is extraordinary as she sets the tone for every campaign and initiative.”

No wonder David Joseph, chairman/CEO of her long-time UK label Virgin EMI’s parent company Universal Music UK, is thrilled with how things are going.

“Love Story was a fitting first single release for Taylor here – she’s loved the UK from day one and has engaged so much with her fans and teams,” says Joseph. “She really respects and values what’s going on here creatively. To see her go from playing the Students’ Union at King’s College to Wembley Stadium has been extraordinary. Taylor is an artist constantly striving for perfection, and with Lover – from my personal point of view, her most accomplished work to date – her songwriting has gone to a new level. I adore working with her and whilst it’s been more than 10 years this still feels like the start.”

And today, Swift is keen to concentrate on the present and future. She has a starring role in Cats coming up (and a new song on the soundtrack, Beautiful Ghosts, co-written with Andrew Lloyd Webber) and, after a spectacularly intimate Paris launch show in September, festival dates and her own LoverFest to plan (UK shows will be revealed soon). Time, then, to tell the cats to calm down and sit down with Music Week to talk streaming, contracts and why she’s “obsessed” with the music industry…

Unlike with Reputation, most of the discussion around Lover seems to have been focused on the music…

“Absolutely! One of the ideas I had about this record, and something I’ve implemented into my life in the last couple of years is that I don’t like distractions. And, for a while, it felt like my life had to come with distractions from the music, whether it was tabloid fascination with my personal life or my friendships or what I was wearing. I realised in the last couple of years that, if I don’t give a window into distraction, people can’t try to look in and see something other than the music. I love that, if you really pour yourself into the idea that an album is still important and try really hard to make something that is worth people’s attention span, time and energy, that can still come across. Because we are living in an industry right now where everyone’s rushing towards taking us into a singles industry and, in some cases, it has become that. But there are still some cases where clearly the album is important to people.”

Does it matter that some new artists won’t get to make albums the way you always have?

“It’s interesting. Five years ago I wrote an op-ed in the Wall Street Journal and said, maybe in the next five years, we would see artists releasing music the way that they want to. I thought that each artist would start to curate what is important to them, not just from an artistic standpoint but from a marketing standpoint. It’s really interesting to see different release plans, if you look at what Drake did and then what Beyoncé does, incredible artists who have really curated what it is to drop music in their own way. We all do it differently, which is cool. As long as people dropping just singles want to be doing that, then I’m fine with it, but if it feels like a big general wave that’s being pressured by people in power, their teams or their labels, that’s not cool. But I do really hope that in the future artists have more of a say over strategy. We’re not just supposed to make art and then hand it to a team that masterminds it.”

Were you worried about putting an album on streaming on release day for the first time?

“Well, there are ways that streaming services could really promote the [whole] album in a more incentivised way. We could have album charts on streaming. The industry follows where they can get prizes. So you have a singles chart on streaming services which is great but, if you split things up into genre charts for example, that would really incentivise people. It’s important that we keep trying to strive to make the experience better for users but also make it more interesting for artists to keep wanting to achieve. But I really did love the experience of putting the album on streaming. I loved the immediacy, I loved that people who maybe weren’t a huge diehard fan were curious and saying, ‘I wonder what this is like’ and listening to it and deciding that they liked it.”

You’d resisted streaming for a long time. Have you changed your mind about the format now?

“I always knew that I would enjoy the aspects of streaming that make [your music] so immediately available to so many people. That’s the part of it that I unequivocally always felt really sad I was missing out on. There wasn’t ever a day when I woke up and I was like, ‘Oh, I’m really glad that multitudes of people don’t have access to my music!’ So I always knew that streaming was an incredible mechanism and model for the future but I still don’t think we have the royalties and compensation system worked out. That’s between the labels and their artists and I realised that me, to use a gross word, ‘leveraging’ what I can bring to cut a better deal for the artists at my record label was really important for me.”

How big a factor were things like that in you signing to Republic/Universal?

“That’s important to me because that means they’re adopting some of my ideas. If they take me on as an artist that means they really thought it through. Because with me, come opinions about how we can better our industry. I’m one of the only people in the artist realm who can be loud about it. People who are on their fifth, sixth or seventh album, we’re the only ones who can speak out, because new artists and producers and writers need to work. They need to be endearing and likeable and available to their labels and streaming services at all times. It’s up to the artists who have been around for a second to say, ‘Hey guys, the producers and the writers and the artists are the ones who are making music what it is’. And we’re in a great place in music right now thanks to them. They should be going to their mailbox and feeling like they’ve got a pension plan, rather than feeling like, ‘Oh yay, I can pay half my rent this month after this No.1 song’.”

Did you have more creative freedom making Lover than on your previous albums?

“In my previous situation, there were creative constraints, issues that we had over the years. I’ve always given 100% to projects, I always over-delivered, thinking that that generosity would be returned to me. But I ended up finding that generosity in a new situation with a new label that understands that I deserve to own what I make. That meant so much to me because it was given over to me so freely. When someone just looks at you and says ‘Yes, you deserve what you want’, after a decade or more of being told, ‘I’m not sure you deserve what you want’ – there’s a freedom that comes with that. It’s like when people find ‘the one’ they’re like, ‘It was easy, I just knew and I felt free’. All of a sudden you’re being told you’re worth exactly, no, more than what you thought you were worth. And that made me feel I could make an album that was exactly what I wanted to make. There’s an eclectic side to Lover, a confessional side, it varies from acoustic to really poppy pop, but that’s what I like to do. And, while you would never make something artistic based on something so unromantic as a contract, it was more than that. It was a group of people saying, ‘We believe in what you’re making, go make what you want to make and you deserve to own it too’.”

You’re obviously not happy about what’s happened at Big Machine since you left. But will the attention mean artists don’t find themselves in this situation in the future?

“I hope so. That’s the only reason that I speak out about things. The fans don’t understand these things, the public isn’t being made aware. This generation has so much information available to them so I thought it was important that the fans knew what I was going through, because I knew it was going to affect every aspect of my life and I wanted them to be the first to know. And in and amongst that group, I know there are people that want to make music some day. It involves every new artist that is reading that and going, ‘Wait, that’s what I’m signing?’ They don’t have to sign stuff that’s unfair to them. If you don’t ask the right questions and you sit in front of the wrong desk in front of the wrong person, they can take everything from you.”

Songwriters are in dispute with Spotify in the US over its decision to appeal the Copyright Board decision to boost songwriting royalties. Do writers need more respect?

“Absolutely. In terms of the power structure, the songwriters, the producers, the engineers, the people who are breathing magic into our industry, need to be listened to. They’re not being greedy. This is legitimately an industry where people are having trouble paying their bills and they’re the most talented people we have. This isn’t them sitting in their mansions going, ‘I wish this mansion was bigger and I would like a yacht please’. This is actually people who are going to work every single day. I got into writing when I was in Nashville and it was very much like what I read about the Brill Building. You would write every day, whether you were inspired or not, and in the process I met artists and writers. Somebody would walk in and someone would say, ‘Oh, he’s still getting mailbox money from that Faith Hill cut a couple of years ago, he’s set’. That’s not a thing anymore. Mailbox money is a thing of the past and we need to remember that these are the people that create the heartbeat that we’re all dancing to or crying to.”

You were clearly aware of music industry machinations from a young age…

“Reading back on the journal entries, I forgot how obsessed I was with the industry as a teenager. I was so fascinated by how it works and how it was changing. Every part of it was interesting to me. I had drawn the stages for most of my tours a year before I went on them. That really was fun for me as a teenager! A lot of people who start out very young in music, either don’t have a say or don’t have the will to do the business side of it, but weirdly that was so much fun for me to try and learn. I had a lot of energy when I was 16!”

Are you doing similar drawings for next year’s LoverFest?

“Definitely. And that’s why it’s still fun for me to take on a challenge like, ‘Oh, let’s just plan our own festival’. Let’s create a bill of artists and try and make it as fun as possible for the fans. I’m so intrigued by what that’s going to be like.”

Finally, when we last did an interview in 2015, you said in five years’ time you wanted to be “finding complexity in happiness”. How has that worked out?

“That’s exactly what’s happened with this album! I think a lot of writers have the fear of stability, emotional health and happiness. Our whole careers, people make jokes about how, ‘Just wait until you meet someone nice, you’ll run out of stuff to write about’. I was talking to [Cats director] Tom Hooper about this because he said one thing his mother taught him was, ‘Don’t ever let people tell you that you can’t make art if you’re happy’. I thought that was so amazing. He’s a creator in a completely different medium but he has been subjected to that same joke over and over again that we must be miserable to create. Lover is important to me in so many ways, but it’s so imperative for me as a human being that songwriting is not tied to my own personal misery. It’s good to know that, it really is!”