#work was hectic yesterday but today was nice and calm ... i am thankful to whatever was out there listening for me

[mitterstorm]

Dance For Me

Chapter 1

“Finally we are here today to seek and to receive comfort. We would be less than honest if we said that our hearts have not ached over this situation. We are not too proud to acknowledge-

You couldn’t take it anymore, just by standing here listening to that preach addressed his departure. Your knees feel weak and your eyes burn, but you refuse to make a scene, taking deep breaths while clenching your fists is helping you calm down.

Still, it’s not enough.

You want to scream again just as you did when you saw his body limp against yours, scratch your arms in attempts of making the pain and hurt go away. To drift your mind from these ugly feelings.

A sick way of coping indeed, teensy bit of self-harm ain't going to kill you. It helps you somehow, preventing yourself from breaking even further in a public place like the cemetery.

Finally, you regain control of yourself and shift back to the preacher. Unfortunately, he concluded, now you have to prepare for the worse.  

Henry, who is your most precious friend, is dead. His body was being carried away in the concealment of a coffin; he said his last farewell to you early in the morning when you ate breakfast with him, offering your company so he wouldn't feel alone, regain some strength by appreciation itself.

Something was up that morning; the old fart was more talkative than usual and flashed a smile here and there. You are at fault for not noticing from the start. You should have been more perceptive and observant; you are keen on people after all, especially when he gave you that look as if he was parting ways with you. He didn’t fight death, accepted it as embracing a hug from an old friend. That thought alone fills your head with doubt.

Was he even happy when he left?

 Did he feel satisfied with the life he lived?

 Were you enough?

 Fuck, you never would've imagined his passing will affect you this much.

<<You old geezer, why were you so kind to me? Why did we let ourselves get attached?>>

The time is near, you will eventually have to confront him with all of these people staring at you, but you need to be strong for sake. You are what’s left of his loved ones. Linda died long ago. They never had a chance to procreate and bring a new life, Joey went mad or something along those lines.

Just like the rest of the crew, and he didn’t make any friends while he was on service for the military. If he did, they were dead. He didn’t like to talk about it.

<<I tried to make you happy, make you feel at ease as you did for me>>

Yet he kept secrets from you, of course, you respected his wishes and didn’t pry any further.

However, it stung.

<<Now it’s not time to reminisce, there’s nothing to reminisce for me at the moment>>

They called your name to the front; you ran out of time. It’s your turn. Is your first time burying someone, yes, you have assisted other burials besides this one, but now you are who’s lost a loved one. Those past times were favors people close to you had asked a long time ago; they said it felt nice to have somebody there when someone else is missing in their lives. In other words, you were there as comfort. A shoulder they could use to cry and lean on.

Hesitant, you take away from the burier’s grasp his shovel and with a gulp. You start shoveling some dirt into the hole were Henry’s coffin lies.

<<Shit, I can’t stop trembling! Come on, stop being a pussy and get over with this!>>

Despite that, your body wouldn’t obey, it made you look clumsy. No matter how much you lied to yourself.

You are scared.

After burying Henry, your vision goes black.

Waking up tomorrow morning at home without a clue of how you got there made your mind fuzzy.

How fun.

You try to get up, but end up failing.

“Fuuuuuck! Why do I feel like absolute shit! Everything hurts!” These feel just like a hangover. Why does it feel like one? Did you go to a bar once Henry’s funeral ended? How much did you drink?

“Enough to blackout it appears,” You say under your breath. Of course, your dumb ass would go to a bar and get drunk to cope with the pain! An upcoming headache awaits you for being arbitrary, instead of showing apprehension towards the situation and mourn, as you should, your voice of reason zonked out. “I reek of booze. Agh, it stinks”.

No more addressing what happened yesterday; feeling like trash isn't doing you any good. Henry would have called you out on your bullshit.

"Stop whining like a whore and man up, chum! I'll buy you a drink. Later we can relax and cut you some slack, nothing a magsman like myself can't do".

“Ok boomer,” You said in a humdrum tone, at least it made you laugh internally. “lo and behold, this will be a shitty morning-err afternoon, it’s 1 PM, I thought it was too early to be awake”.

That means it’s time for brunch.

Must compel your stomach desires, eat a lot little of food. Therefore, you'll have to leave the bed, go downstairs where the kitchen is; you force yourself out of the comfiness that are your covers. So you walk out of the room barefoot towards the kitchen. You open the fridge faking interest with whatever is inside and close it, then repeat, only that this time you pay a little more of attention.

You grab the water pitcher and pour some in a glass, then look for oatmeal and toss three spoonfuls of it at the water, after that you chuck a spoonful of sugar and mix it. A simple drink full of roughage. It’ll suffice for now.

*Clink clink*

Metal hitting porcelain serves you as a white noise to rearrange your thoughts. Yesterday was hectic and had your mind high wire, you were thinking about the old man; how long have you two been friends? Five or six years more or less, you met each other by autumn at a hospital. On that occasion, you were merely an intern in the middle of their practice and had to change sheets, deliver meals, give them their meds and reassure they took them at the time the doctors had said. Like a nurse or carer (the difference it’s you possess more knowledge than one and can prescribe medication, it was also part of your duty as a trainee assisting the doctors with whatever you could). That’s how both of you came face to face with.

Mr. Stein was sick and injured. He needed to tend some wounds since they required special treatment. Battle scars, you didn’t know at the time, however, as days passed, you became close to him, he told you how he got them; the biggest can be found on his back.  

Unfortunately, a sharp pain arose, preventing you from wandering further in the past. You had forgotten about your headache, which it’s more noticeable now, you are sure there aren’t any pills left.

“I ain’t leaving being this crappy, besides I don’t feel like moving right now…” Your eyelids are heavy and keeping them open, it’s such a pain, so you shut ‘em in hopes of relaxing for a little bit. Leaning your back on the kitchen island while drinking your beverage, its coldness helping you somehow with the throb.

Once again, your mind wanders.

Thanks to it, you know where to find some ibuprofen.

“Are these the ones?” You asked while holding a box for him to see, squinting Henry finally recognized the packet.

“What’s it called again?” He questioned, rubbing his head to ease the ache a bit. His voice raspy because of a dry throat. His normal soft tone replaced by a croaky. He’s clearly suffering.  

“Ibuprofen.” You read aloud as you’ve been asked and turn back to look at him.

“Yup, that’s the one, lass. I know I’ve bothered you enough, but could you serve me a glass of water?”

“You old coot, not a bother at all. I’ll be back with your water in a jiffy”.

The pills are somewhere inside Henry’s studio. You can do that, going upstairs isn’t as demanding as buying them, cuz leaving home means changing clothes that look presentable and aren’t dirty. Henceforth, you don’t feel in the mood for seeing the outside.

“I should stop thinking of how lazy I am and look for those meds…” Talking to yourself it’s quite common, so you ain’t no stranger to these situations.

Therefore, you took a break from your bullshit and went upstairs where Henry Stein used to draw; he passed most of his time in there, secluded from the outside world, before military service, he worked at an animation studio owned by the man he once considered his best friend, Joey Drew was his name if your memory doesn’t fail you.

Your friend called him a bastard, never explained why only responded by saying: “He lost his mind.”

Nevertheless, Henry kept drawing cartoons, and sometimes, he would let you watch him sketch and answered your questions. He carried on with his old comics he left unfinished long ago. The same he had drawn back thirty years ago. The main characters are three little fellas: Bendy, Alice Angel, and Boris. Henry said they animated their adventures and later on, added side characters. The Butcher Gang, if you recall, also consists of a trio: Charley, Barley, and Edgar.

When Henry started storytelling, you felt like a kid back again, he could’ve marked your childhood just as the rest of animators who made those toons while you were a child. Oh, how you treasured these memories, you’ll never forget the time you spent together.

Evoking past times has helped to soothe your headache an itty-bitty, yet you still need to find the ibuprofen.

“Where could it be…” You asked to no one, hoping the walls may respond, even though it’ll never happen.

Seeking everywhere you soon turned the room upside down, papers on the floor resembling a carpet, art supplies rolling across the table (pencils, colors, pens, paintbrushes, blending stumps, etc.) and some books based on anatomy and animation were disorganized on their bookshelves. It all ended after you opened a drawer (this one didn’t need your touch, it was already a disorder) and found what you were looking for, and because of your rashness, more papers fell on the floor.

“Damn, what a mess…” You muttered under your breath a little irritated with yourself for being so careless while searching. You collected the papers and put them in order back again one by one, because of it you grew curious and read some of them, a letter grabbed your attention.

It was one of those fancy letters with a seal and all (what does it say? Seems of importance).

You don’t consider yourself nosy, just interested in its contents.

<<From Joey Drew? Huh, looks like your old buddy send you his salutations after all this time>>

Oh, you had no idea.

Henry knew about the letter, he already read it and did as they told him. The old studio where they used to make dreams come true transformed into a living hell.

‘DEAR HENRY

IT SEEMS LIKE A LIFETIME AGO SINCE WE WORKED ON CARTOONS TOGETHER.

30 YEARS REALLY SLIPS AWAY, DOESN’T IT?

IF YOU ARE BACK IN TOWN, COME VISIT THE OLD WORKSHOP.

THERE’S SOMETHING I NEED TO SHOW YOU.

YOUR BEST PAL, JOEY DREW’.

You finished reading the letter.

*Snrk*

Well shit.

Did you just read a confession or a love letter? Why not both? You don’t know why, but it feels like one.

“Okay, let’s stop right there. I can’t make jokes on circumstances as these ones”.

What could be so urgent for Joey to write a letter after thirty years of silence?

Should you investigate?

<<The letter could’ve been sent years ago! Henry surely read it; otherwise, it wouldn’t be inside a drawer of his studio, though there’s a possibility he didn’t, I doubt it. He must have seen his friend has written message>>

Okay, sure. Let’s suppose he didn’t pay any mind to the damn thing, you can pretend, now the real issue it’s the location. Joey Drew Studios must be closed (or broken down into pieces, you didn’t know if they decided to demolish the whole building).

“Wake up ___! Face reality, you shouldn’t be fantasizing, this ain’t some silly story with you as a heroine…instead of wasting my time, I shall swallow that damn pill and take some zzz’s”.

You left Henry’s solace and went to bed once again after you swallowed the pill with some water. A dreamless sleep greeted you.

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

Bendy’s POV

“ん乇'丂 ムの刀乇”.

Even though he should be celebrating, the Inkarnate can’t seem to find any joy in his being, no emotion tried to overtake him. Why? He doesn’t feel anything. True, he may not possess all the emotions a human has, but anger, joy, sadness, and hysteria weren’t unbeknownst him. There’s no satisfaction nor sorrow towards his creator’s death, not even an ounce of regret. Ok no, he won’t sense any guilt for what happened to Henry, he deserved to die just as much as Joey, but he was grasping straws in here!

How’s it possible to not perceive the slightest of emotion within himself?

The Ink Demon was turning apathetic in regards to the subject; he didn’t have an answer as to why. One thing he’s sure of, his world turned dull no longer exciting as he thought.

It was as if the little dancing demon had opened his eyes for the first time, after all those years blinded by the dripping ink, before that, he only saw what his mind showed him. He finally realized how monochromatic his world truly is.

All is black and white for the demon’s eyes.

A wave of indifference invades his mind and his mind is fuzzy, he dissolves into his inky form and rests.

However, not for much.

“-aHahaHAhahaHahaHAhaha!”

Alice.

That bitch.

He despises her nearly as much as those liars, yet the little devil darling couldn’t give a damn about her right now. Let her laugh all she wants as the malady she’s. The Angel probably got the word, celebrating, unlike him.

Immersing himself even more inside the ink, he found…peace. He can work with that, serenity aids his jumbled thoughts; darkness envelopes him and swallows his body whole.

<<In the end…I feel empty. Is this how revenge it’s supposed to be like?>>

He can’t respond to that, how could he? He doesn’t even know what’s life supposed to feel like.

<<Their imagination cursed us all with life, they couldn’t take responsibility for their actions and show us how to drive through it>>

Back when he was the small little imp everybody loved, there were all kind of colors, unlike now. The studio felt warm in contrast to all the ink that surrounds it now.

The remains of those old days lurk inside the deep abyss as ink creatures, husks who replaced the humans that worked here.

Thinking about it got him tired, Bendy finds himself drifting from consciousness, he’s falling asleep.

“Was it worth it?”

<<Again that cunt>> Despite his thoughts, the Inkarnate didn’t feel irascible towards the narcissist woman. Actually, there isn’t much for him to perceive.

She’s not in here, she wouldn’t dare to step a foot on his domain. The wench had the nerve of placing her cutouts and posters; he destroyed a few just as she did the same. She is communicating with him using a damaged poster with her face.

“I know you can hear me, demon, don’t fake pretend.”

“Wんﾘ りの ﾘのひ ᄃﾑ尺乇?” He hopes to scare her, even though he knows it won’t work while using his beast form for some reason his speech turns nightmarish. Yet he doesn’t wield it often because of how difficult is controlling his instincts. Thoughts become more primal, talking it’s hard after a few hours transformed in it gets tiring, and he can’t measure his own force. He favors his inky form best: practical and gets the job done.

“I don’t”. So she’s just shitting with him, insufferable.

“Then why ask?”

“Spirit of inquiry. Your relationship intrigues me, up there in Heaven, we get curious as to why you didn’t kill him yourself. And don’t even try to justify your actions. You had many opportunities. The little errand boy nearly ends up killing you, he tried the same with me”.

After listening to what the Angel had to said, his permanent smile turned slowly into a frown. It’s never a good thing when the Lord ain’t wearing one.

“…”

“Well?”

The fallen angel is laughing at him.

“Not even you know the reason behind your acts of mercy!” He remains silent, it’s not like she’s wrong, the little devil does not why he was so resilient with Henry.

After that fiasco, she left him be.

Thanks to Alice’s short visit, Bendy finds questioning why she dropped by. They hate one another, true. She has eyes here and there, but it’s to keep him in line, so he won’t cross an inky limb on her domain. Unlike the female cartoon, he does not have any cutouts, posters, plushies, or ink servants near her place. He wants nothing to do with her. That’s why he finds it so unusual, it’s not like her.

Unless…

She fancies something he has.

<<If that bitch knows what’s good for her, she won’t be picking her nose in my business>>

Later he’ll do his rounds throughout the studio, maybe, the imp will find what she’s searching before she does, whatever it may be, he won’t let her have it.

He’ll make sure of it.

Who knows what her deranged mind has planned; he’s tired of the gruesome scenery this place is in, corpses all around, clones of his ol’ friend bring back unsavory images from the past. Oh, Lawrence, he’s a madman, made satanic circles as a way of showing his devotion towards the black devil. Thanks to Sammy, he has eyes in nearly the entire place.

Yes, he’s aware the musician it’s alive, but Sammy Lawrence continues being of use for him.

<<I’ll take care of him when I wake up…>>

He’s exhausted. However, he stays on his beast form sunken in ink.

The demon’s slumber it’s a peaceful one…

.

   .

   .

   .

   .

   Until you enter his kingdom.

 An animalistic rumble shakes the tinted walls.

 He’s coming for you.

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

Three days.

You paced on the issue for three days, until you finally had an answer.

“I’m gonna pay a visit to your ol’ pal, maybe he’s still alive…or not…” You lowered your voice in the last part; Henry called Joey a bastard and accused him of being mentally unstable, you trust his word, but what if…what if he changed? There’s a possibility he redeemed himself and went through a rehabilitation process to help him with his instability.

<<I need to look for the address and from there I’ll see what can be done>>

You googled ‘Joey Drew Studios’ on your phone and within seconds Google Maps showed up, you were going to click at it, but then something catches your eye.

An article and it’s quite old.

‘Joey Drew Studios, also known as the workshop. Is an American corporation and an animation studio of the Bendy franchise, established in 1929.

Founded by Joey Drew and Henry Stein in an unknown full date other than the year of 1929, Joey Drew Studios is located at Broadway, Brooklyn, New York City, New York.

In 1946, Joey Drew Studios was under investigation after reports of hazardous work environments, missing employees, harassment, and excessive back pay, as well the company's danger of being bankrupt, all of which are a result of Joey's mismanagement of the studio. Anonymous employees threatened to make labor unions over the poor conditions, which included unpermitted buildings, hazardous electrical wiring, and a plumbing system prone to bursting. In addition, there were excessive work hours, most of which were unpaid and several animators were unable to see their families in weeks, after being threatened with disciplinary action and termination if they were unable to finish animations on tight schedules.

There were reports of barricaded offices, employees locked up in work spaces, and complaints of crazy malfunctioning machinery. Despite the evidence against the company, Joey Drew remained firm that the studio has done nothing wrong, calling the accusations "preposterous" and "ridiculous", dismissing them as either complaint from menial employees, or feeble attempts by competing studios to discredit Joey.

On August 16, 1959, the law firm known as Snooks, Spitner and Snooks sued Joey Drew, having heard the rumors of Joey's mismanaging of his own workers. 12 days later, the studio was closed down in accordance to legal regulation 11 U.S Code § 1125 (which forbids the misrepresentation of legally established companies) as evident by the bankruptcy report found in Joey's apartment, as well as health and safety concerns directly by the mention of a health and safety board meeting schedule found in the appointment lobby.’

Oof.

<<That’s a lot to take in>>

Why the fuck would Henry’s friend would want to meet at that nightmare show? Has he learned nothing after all this years? And not only that, the sucker it´s/was an abusive prick with his employees!

<<Man, you weren’t joking>>

You fear a screw lose isn’t Joey’s only problem.

<<He sounds like an asshole, I don’t want to put up with his shit...I’ve got enough dealing with people like him on a daily basis. Sure, not everyone it’s an ass and there’s some decent/kind people out there, but handling jerks as the likes of him tires me out>>

Sometimes you aren’t the most patient person, it all depends. But this whole ordeal it’s too much for you.

<<The studio is in the big city, New York it’s fucking expensive. I don’t have the money for travelling that far, I’ll have to bid on my savings and package supplies for the journey>>

Crap. Three days and you didn’t think all of this through! How can you be so stupid?!

Now this looks like one of those impulsive decisions you take for being careless and inattentive.

<<How could Henry put up with me when not even I can stand myself?!>>

You need an adult, that’s what you ought to have beside you.

Your life is such a mess sometimes…

“Before spending money on my idiocy I should read more and prepare myself.” You mutter angrily to yourself.

That’s exactly what you did the next two days, finally you are ready for departing.

You grab your backpack and the car’s keys. “Cellphone in the front pocket, all that’s left is open the door, lock it and call Abby, easy.”

During those two days you made a few calls and went up for gas, it was going to be a long trip from Miami to New York. Sure, it ain’t that extensive, but you’ll be driving by yourself for approximately 20 hours. A place to stay, money, gasoline and food are big girl’s problems. Not counting the money you’ll spend on a cheap motel to rest your head.

“That or make a few stops on gas stations…maybe sleeping in the car won’t be that bad…” The good thing is you have options; you aren’t tied solely to one alternative.  

<<Abby won’t charge me for doing me this favor, another plus>>

She’ll guard the house in your absence and will call if any emergency transpires.

Now, you are free to go.

<<I hope I made a good decision doing this>>

The first 8 hours were a torment, bored and your ass felt numb of sitting for that long, the last time you remained that still was in high school, since you made your schedule. Your feet hurt just as your arms did. You made a stop for eating and going to the bathroom, after that another 8 hours.

Overall, the journey was relaxing, while driving you admired the views offered to you, savoring each sight. It helped you keeping away some melancholy.

You miss Henry, no matter how much you tried to distract yourself with this excursion of yours, the emptiness stays in the back of your mind.

Your wounds are still fresh, you haven’t mourned properly, because you don’t want to. That’s why you are doing this, to keep yourself busy so you won’t think about it. You need it, you ain’t prepared for it yet.

Soon you’ll be.

After a short nap (before that you made many stops, ‘cuz you’re a whining bitch who ain’t strong enough to control her fucking bladder), you started driving again. You have three or four hours left on the road.

Time to listen some music, you activate Bluetooth and connect your phone to the car’s stereo, finally you found a song of your liking in Spotify and play it. You spent the rest of the trip singing along; sometimes you’ll speed up a little bit on the spur of the moment.

Soon you got to your destination, didn’t waste time changing clothes, you collapsed on the bed in the motel and slept for an hour. After that, you washed yourself and got ready for visiting Joey Drew.

“Here goes nothing…”

You regret already coming here, silly you just ruined a change of clothes! Why is there so much ink? You’ll never get out the ink of your shoes, fuck! You have been here for less than ten minutes and all went to shit for you! It doesn’t help this place keeps giving you the heebies-jeebies! Every time you take a step on the creaky wooden floor it feels as if someone is following you, like a slithering sound. The ink splashes keep creeping you out, if it wasn’t black you would think it’s blood, Jesus Christ.

<<Thank God, the lights still work; it would make this place spookier if they didn’t>>

As you venture further deeper into the studio, a beast rumbles, shaking everything around you, more ink drops fall.

At that moment…

…you knew you fucked up.

So you hide.

Your mind provides you one last thought before going high drive

‘WHY ARE YOU RUNNING?! WHY ARE YOU RUNNING?!’

<<FUUU-

[liveoutimagination]

Sweet Escape I - Bob Morley Imagine

requested: no word count: ~2290 warnings: swearing pairing: none yet, later female!reader x bob morley summary: y/n works at nycc as a volunteer and while she’s not new to it, she’s still extremely nervous because this year, she actually gets a chance to meet and talk to her favorite actor - bob morley. A/N: so this is my first imagine since about two years so my english and writing might be a little rusty. anyway - this is definitely a slow one. gotta set some base for the next parts. also don’t mind the mistakes/failed grammar/misspellings/whatever. it’s way to late already and i wanted to throw this out right now.

feedback is most welcome! also, feel free to hmu if you want to be added to the tag-list for the next part

It was my 5th year working as a volunteer at new york comic con, yet I had never been this nervous. Over the past years, I had been working at different conventions and therefore got in contact with several celebrities, why one might think I eventually got used to being eye to eye with people like Jensen Ackles, Grant Gustin or Robert Downey Jr. - yet that was nothing but wishful thinking, considering this very moment.

During my second year, I got my first chance to work at both – the panels and the backstage/vip area. And I loved it! It was that moment I realized this was the kind of thing I wanted to do for a living. Unfortunately being a volunteer didn't pay off very well. Well, it didn't pay off anything at all – besides free access to the current con of course. But I was certain it was the best opportunity to gain experience before trying my luck in other areas.

So, again, one should think I got used to all of this over the years, but this time was different. As the schedules were sent out, my heart skipped a beat and as if he knew it, my comic con-best friend called only seconds after we received the mail.

“(Y/N), you okay?”,  Dan asked as soon as I picked up.

“This has to be a joke...”, I mumbled both – in shock and excitement.

We met during my first year, while he had been there the third time. After sharing our first shift we were basically inseparable. Dan and I clicked instantly – sharing the same interests and liking the same shows. During the following years, we always met a few days in advance, spending some time together before we would be stressed out as hell and sleep-deprived from the upcoming days working and running around. That's why I wasn't even surprised he called this quickly once we got the news.

“Nah, don't think it is.”, he chuckled, while I got up, unable to steady neither my pace nor my heartbeat.

“Dan, I'm dying. I'm literally dying right now. This can't be real!”, I exclaimed still running around like some hyperactive 5-year-old.

“Looks quite real to me. Calm down, (Y/N). Isn't that what you've wanted ever since the pilot aired?”, his voice was way too steady at this moment and it almost drove me crazy.

This was the only difference between the two of us. While I was head over heels over the actors of my favorite character, Dan just enjoyed some good storytelling. And that's exactly why I freaked out the moment I read I would be in charge of the vip and panel area during the whole con, which also included the one the cast of The 100 would be there. Not only was it a huge responsibility, no, but I would also meet the actors I had adored for years now.

“No... I mean, yes! Of course! But I can't do this. I'm going to fuck everything up!”

“Language!”

“Shut up, Captain E-Rated! This is some serious shit! How am I gonna keep my cool and be professional when I see Marie. And Richard. And Lindsey!”

Yes, I was definitely freaking out – more than I should.

“What, you're not going to mention your all-time sweetheart?”, Dan teased me, making me blush right away and I was glad he couldn’t see my face right now. I knew he was right and so did he. Yes, the thought of seeing Bob Morley in person was the actual reason for keeping me on my toes. Not that I'd admit it, though.

“Fuck off, asshat! You're so not helpful, it's like I'm talking to Isaac.”, I responded as I fell on my bed.

“Just tell me what to do...”, I muttered, face pressed into one of the pillows.

Laughter from the other side of the phone.

“How about you take a few deep breaths and then you're going to be as charming and quick-witted as always?”

“I hate you...”

BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.

Within a matter of seconds, I threw my pillow downwards next to my bed.

“Die...”, I grumbled, slowly coming to my senses.

It was still dark outside when the alarm went off and I didn't know who to blame for the most annoying start of the day ever – myself for wanting to get up hours before we had to leave or Dan's alarm, which was the most nerve-wracking thing I ever heard.

“Good morning, too...”, a male voice muttered not sounding any less tired.

For the past days, Dan stayed over at my place and actually managed to get my constant and quite spontaneous fan-girl-outbursts under control. While the first day at comic con went by smoothly, reality hit me again once we got back home last night. Even though it was late already, we stayed up way longer than we should have and only got a few hours of sleep. Mainly my fault but what should a girl do? Yet, no matter how grateful I was only a few hours ago as I finally calmed down again, now we had to take the bitter pill. Pulling my blanket over my head, I turned around, letting out a long, exhausted sigh.

“How 'bout we call in sick today?”, I asked – half joking, half serious.

“Nah, we're gonna make it somehow... and you don't wanna miss the party, do ya?”

I hated to admit it, but he was right. If I'd skip work today, but would show up at the party, I had been working at nycc for the longest time. It was probably the most exciting part of the con. Everyone – volunteers, organization, exhibitors and actors – they all came together for a few drinks, amazing food and some nice music. And there was not a chance I would miss out on that.

The next moment my blanket disappeared and I heard Dan walking towards the door.

“Don't. You. Dare. To ...”

Before I could even finish my sentence, the room turned bright – too bright. Shielding my eyes, I somehow managed to sit up.

“Bastard.”

“Jon or Ramsay?”

“Joffrey.”

“Ouch, that hurts.”

“You're welcome.”

“So, how about I make us some coffee and you take a shower? You reek.”, he suggested, well-aware that coffee was the only thing powerful enough to actually get me on my feet, literally speaking.

“I said Joff, not Ramsay.”, I responded, my words followed by a yawn. “But fine. Zombie awakener style?”

“Always. Now move your lazy ass before I have to kick it.”

Waving in his direction I signalized him to go ahead. I always wondered how Dan could be so energetic, even in the morning after a day like yesterday. Maybe he was a morning person but me? Not so much. After staying put a few more seconds, eventually, I got up, dragging myself toward carefully picked outfit placed on a chair. Even though we all had to wear the same shirts, it didn't mean I couldn't up my game at least a little. Even if it would be a first. Usually, I just wore some comfy sweats and sneakers, but today my favorite pair of jeans, a cute long-sleeve, which I would wear underneath the staff-shirt, and my not so cheap Converse would do. Still comfortable but not as Netflix and chill as my usual attire. I even managed to decide on what to wear tonight yesterday, so the most irritating part was already done.

After taking a quick shower I prepared my skin for another not so common part – putting on makeup. But before I would even think about painting on my face like an empty canvas, I had to get my own personal drug.

The rest of the morning passed rather uneventful – We both got dressed, I decided to keep my make up simple for the day and while Dan prepared everything for later when we got back home, I refilled our to-go cups.

Until midday, it felt like any other day. I ran some errands, briefly switched positions with some newcomers and the guys and girls working alongside with me finally got used to the hectic work. Thanks to everything on my schedule I didn't get any chance to ponder over what was to come in the second half of the day.

But once I met Dan for lunch, it struck me like lightning all over again.

“Shit! Shit! Shit!”, I exclaimed, checking my appearance in my smartphone's front camera.

It was obvious I hadn't just been sitting around doing nothing during the last hours.

Fortunately Dan already got used to these outbursts during the past few days, which was probably why he only let out an almost bored yawn.

“You're gonna make it someh    ”

Stopping mid-sentence, he suddenly unbent, his eyes averted from and looking past me.

“The fuck is it now?”, I asked. Not even annoyed, but nervous as hell.

“(Y/N)... promise me you won't freak out if you turn around.”

“Why would I   Oh! My! God!”

Turning the direction he was looking, my eyes set on Bobby – and not only him. No, the whole cast of The 100 sat only a few tables away from us, having lunch themselves.

Even after some seconds passed, I was still staring. Trying to clear my throat, I blinked a few times.

“I... I probably should stop staring like some crazy fan...”, I mumbled.

“Seems like a good    Nope, too late.”

I knew exactly what he was talking about, as Richard rose his glance, looking our direction. He must have said something to his co-stars because slowly they all turned towards us.

“Fuck...”, I said under my breath, pretty sure I ruined everything.

That’s until suddenly something came up my mind. Something that would either be my downfall or lifeline. A bright smile appeared on my lips as I turned back to Dan before getting up.

“(Y/N), what are you doing?”, he questioned, a skeptical expression on his face.

“Saving my ass or digging my grave.”

Taking a deep breath, I headed straight for their table, making sure my badge was in sight.

Professional. Be Professional. Come on, (Y/N), you can do it!

My smile turned bright and cheerful, the moment I arrived next to them.

“Hey! Sorry about the staring just now. I was trying to figure out whether now would be a good time to hit you up for a sec.”

My voice was firm, almost getting my hopes up, I could survive this without showing my inner fan-girl screaming loudly. That's until – out of all people – Bobby replied.

“Seems like you've made up your mind a little too quick.”, he said, leading me to make a face for a moment.

“Oh...”, was the only sound leaving my throat, as I stood there dumbfounded.

“I'm kidding. What's up?”

His expression softened and he gave me his breathtaking smile, which never failed to make my knees go weak.

Dammit! Get yourself together!

Coughing slightly, I briefly shook my head – lips pressed together in half a smile, half annoyance.

“Yeah, right... So, I... I just wanted to introduce myself quickly before you guys go backstage. I'm (Y/N) and I'll be your girl Friday in a few. Figured it wouldn't hurt if you knew my face beforehand.”, I finished, giving them a warm smile.

For a brief moment, everybody nodded, returning my smile, before Eliza playfully punched Bob.

“Guess you better hadn't said that before.”, she addressed him, grinning.

“Yeah, you really shouldn't hoax the one bringing you drinks and food.”, Marie joined in, laughing.

“Was nice knowing you, man.”, Richard added, not any less amused.

Their behavior was infectious, why I couldn't help but join in and therefore spoke before even giving a thought to it.

“Good thing I like my victims to see my face at least one time before they bite the dust.”

“My, my looks like we've got a feisty one.”, Lindsey laughed before the others joined her.

“You feeling alright buddy?”

Eliza placed her hand on Bobby's shoulder, who obviously had given up, shaking his head in silent laughter as it seemed.

“Absolutely. It's great to see you're all totally fine with me being poisoned.”, he said, both – playfully and devastated – at once.

Still chuckling a little, I clapped my hand.

“Alright. I guess I'll let you enjoy your last moments alive and I'll see you guys later.”

As much as I enjoyed the little chat, I knew I had to finish lunch before getting back to work in a few. Not to mention that I didn't want to take up their time any longer. Even though they didn't seem to mind my presence. Within seconds most of them said their goodbyes – though it wouldn't be for long – and I turned around, ready to walk away.

“See you, (Y/N)! And try not to kill me before the panel.” Bob spoke, making my heart skip a beat as I heard my name from his lips.

“Yeah, we'll see about that.”, I responded teasingly, one last glance over my shoulder, giving him a lopsided grin.

Heading back to Dan, I gave him a thumbs up, smiling stupidly happy and – what's more important – incredibly proud of how well everything went. It felt like this was exactly what I needed so I wouldn't freak out later again with no one to calm my nerves around.