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vro0m · 5 months

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vro0m's rewatch - 173/332

2016 Monaco GP

(Buckle up there’s a lot of gifs in this one)

Well now that Spain made me lose my mind it's only fair for the follow-up to be the dullest race on the calendar. Oh wait actually maybe not?

It's wet. They're talking of changeable conditions. Also weirdly, it's Ricciardo on pole. Huh. I can only hope this race surprises me. Interestingly, Max crashed in Q1 so he's starting for the pitlane while Daniel is starting from pole. I'm gonna be interested in that dynamic.

The Mercs have fuel pressure issues if I understand right? Of course we're gonna have a segment on them after what happened in the last race. We see images from Monaco 2014, the controversial quali mistake from Nico. "We're not friends." Lewis leaning on his shoulder and Nico getting away from him. The Belgium 2014 crash. Merc's 2014 title win. Lewis' 2014 title win. China 2015, when Nico thought Lewis backed him into Seb during the race. Monaco 2015, when the team lost Lewis' the race. Merc's 2015 title win. Lewis' 2015 title win. The cap throw. And of course their last crash.

Johnny interviews Lewis on the truck. He claims Lewis has been grumpy in the past few days. Lewis is surprised, or he feigns to be. He asks how he's been grumpy. Johnny says there's been people saying he doesn't look happy. Johnny hypothesises that it might be frustration because he wanted to be on the front row and it didn't work out. "Okay," Lewis says, half amused. Johnny says that's him still being grumpy with him. Which is insane. Lewis interrupts him. He says he's in a great mood, he's in Monaco, where he lives, and he gets to drive. As he waves to the crowd he points to children from the starlight foundation for hospitalised children. He says to Johnny not to listen to all the noise, "that's the problem with people, they just listen to what other people say." Johnny says in 2008 Lewis won from starting 3rd on the grid, where he's starting that day. Lewis says he got lucky that one time but he'll do what he can and get points.

The journalists are talking team orders now. Apparently Lewis hinted that they might have to rely on that if Nico and himself came together again. Brundle says of course if it turns out the Ferraris or the RedBulls become a threat for the title the team is gonna have to make decisions.

On the truck Seb says he thinks they have a good car but we also hear him say it got worse and swearing during quali so. Yeah. Not too sure about that.

Mmh and there's a problem with Max's car. They are hammering something on or off the car. Not good.

I'm gonna skip Brundle's grid walk because it's never as annoying as in Monaco.

The grid : Ricciardo, Nico, Lewis, Seb, Hulkenberg, Sainz, Perez, Kvyat, Alonso and Valtteri.

And it's a safety car start!

It's just that wet. They're all on full wets then of course. Kvyat says his Toro Rosso is stuck on constant speed. He drops down the field even under safety car. He's back in the pits and a lap down. But he goes again. But then he says it still doesn't work. Over radio, Magnussen claims it's time they go racing, the track is ready. Lewis is also calling it. Okay! Safety car in at the end of lap 7. Kvyat is not allowed to unlap himself though which is stupid.

Here we go! Ricciardo gets away and Lewis is close to Nico. Magnussen pits for inters! Crazy! Meanwhile Lewis almost put it in the wall in the hairpin AND A CAR HAS CRASHED?! Wait, is it on the other side of the wall…? I'm confused. It's Palmer. VSC. What happened? He's out and OK btw. The car is already hooked to the crane and lifted up, the two front wheels hanging pathetically under the car like a warm ball sack. Ohhh okay. Weird. So on the restart we see him coming down the hill with the two wheels already broken. He's just sliding down like it's on skis until it gets into the run off area and bumps against the barriers. Yeah he hit other barriers earlier. A lot of the midfield cars are getting on the inters.

On lap 10, they go again, AGAIN. And still Ricciardo is ahead while Lewis is sticking to Nico's back. He's looking to overtake for sure. But well. It's Monaco. Jenson sets the fastest lap on inters! Yellow flags… It's Grosjean and Raikkonen into the barriers with minimal to no damage it seems. Ah nevermind Raikkonen just lost his front wing, it's stuck under his car. He's trying to get back to the pit anyway but at the exit of the tunnel it seems impossible and he retires in a run-off area. On the replay we see Raikkonen crashed by himself, then as he went again Massa ran into his back and as he went off into the barriers, Grosjean found himself stuck behind him. Seb pits for inters. More and more of them on inters. What is Merc doing. OH AND WE DIDN'T SEE IT HAPPEN BUT LEWIS IS AHEAD! He has 13 seconds to make up for to catch Daniel though. Oh ho it seems to have been team orders… I mean he immediately put 4 seconds between him and Nico so it's clearly the right call but it’s icky. Seb got ahead of Massa by cutting the chicane unintentionally so he gives the place back. Shortly after Hulkenberg almost collides with his rear in the hairpin. Lewis sets the fastest lap of the race. Still 13 seconds to Ricciardo but Nico lost 2 more seconds on him.

On lap 20, Lewis is 12.7 seconds behind, then it's Nico, Sainz getting close to him, Perez not far behind, a big gap to Massa, followed by Seb, Hulkenberg, Alonso and Gutierrez still further down. The Merc mechanics are ready with inter tyres. But Lewis doesn't come in, so it'll be Nico. Yep. Out in P5. Massa pits as well. And that's two cars into the barriers! Kvyat and Magnussen, who almost backed away into another car. And Verstappen sets the fastest lap on inters now. Lewis needs to pit. Him and Daniel are the last ones on wets… And Ricciardo pits! And Lewis hasn't pitted?! WHY?! It's stupid af. Now Ricciardo is gaining so fast on him, setting fastest lap after fastest lap, while Ted reports the track is "bone dry". Daniel is less than 0.2 behind him… They think he's trying to go straight to the slicks.

It's lap 30. Lewis, Daniel +0.7, Nico 26 seconds further down, Perez, Seb, Hulkenberg, Sainz, Alonso, Gutierrez, and Max, who started from the pitlane, is in the points. And Ericsson is the first one to get on the slicks. Perez follows. Then Jenson, Magnussen… Lewis is struggling. HE PITS. Ultrasofts! Do they think he can go to the end on these?! It's 46 laps!!! Everyone is pitting. OH MY GOD. OH MY GOD. NO FUCKING WAY. Ricciardo came in for the slicks but they weren't ready! The tyres weren't out! What a mistake! He's sitting there… It's a 13.6 stop! Unbelievable! Just as he gets in the pit exit, Lewis flies by at full speed! They are wheel to wheel after the chicane but Lewis gets away fast and he keeps the lead! Is he finally, FINALLY, gonna win his second Monaco GP?! Well there's still half a race to go, and Daniel isn't giving up! He's catching on Lewis! He attacks out of the tunnel, but Lewis defends. It's close, damn. I'm gonna be so stressed out. And he's caught in backmarkers… Seb sets the fastest lap. OH AND MAX IS IN THE BARRIERS! Virtual safety car. Meanwhile Nico is in P6. He's been held up during his pitstop to avoid an unsafe release and he lost a place to Seb. They go again and Daniel tries a move before the tunnel but almost loses it. Then he tries in the tunnel. Lewis cut the chicane! They're wheel to wheel! But again, it's Monaco. On his on-board we see him waving his hands furiously. It's true Lewis defended aggressively. Especially given he'd just made a mistake. Radio : "wtf was that?" Daniel asks.

Lap 40. Lewis, Daniel +1.380. Perez, Seb, Alonso, Rosberg, Hulkenberg, Sainz, Jenson, Gutierrez. The incident between Lewis and Daniel is under investigation. Ricciardo is losing time slightly. Interestingly, the commentators point out, Perez and Seb are on the softs, not the ultrasofts like Lewis, not the supersofts like Ricciardo. It's pretty clear they can go to the end on these when we're unsure about the ultrasofts. Lewis sets the fastest lap. Ricciardo is gaining again. He's under a second away again. But Lewis responds. No further action for their previous scuffle. Lewis sets the fastest lap again. But Daniel responds! But behind them drivers are picking up the pace as well… Specifically Perez in P3 is faster than them both at this point.

It's lap 50. Perez sets the fastest lap. Lewis, Ricciardo +0.8, Perez +8.9, Seb +2.3, then Alonso is 30 seconds down, followed by Nico, Hulkenberg, Sainz, Jenson and Massa. And the two Saubers, that we just heard fighting over the radio about team orders, collided! They go again. VSC. One of them pits. VSC ending. Ricciardo is so close… Nasr's Sauber is back in the pits. Ricciardo attacks out of the tunnel again! But Lewis defends again! A few corners later, Daniel locks up. He loses time a bit. We breathe. Lewis sets the fastest lap. Nasr is out of the race. There's a train behind Alonso btw. Nico is still stuck half a second behind Alonso and must be getting as frustrated as Ricciardo. Ericsson, the second Sauber, also retires. Seb sets the fastest lap. 20 laps to go. Even when it's somewhat interesting this race is too long. Daniel picks up the pace but locks up again.

Lap 60. Lewis, Ricciardo +0.9, Perez +9.1, Seb +2.7, Alonso, Nico, Hulkenberg, Sainz, Jenson, Massa. Ohhh on a replay we see Nico overtook Alonso but then cut the chicane so he gave the place back. There may or may not be rain right at the end of the race… Seb sets the fastest lap again. Ohhh he made a mistake… He lost 2 seconds to Perez because of a lock up. 10 laps to go. Ted says he asked the pirelli guy if Lewis can go to the end on these tyres and the man answered idk I didn't expect them to make it this far so. Yeah. Reassuring. VSC : something has flown on the track apparently from one of the balconies above. It's over really quickly.

Lap 70. Daniel is 2 seconds behind and Perez and Vettel lost out with the VSC, they've fallen back a bit. Alonso, Nico, Hulkenberg, Sainz, Jenson, Massa. Of course it hasn't changed. Alonso reports some raindrops on his visor. Lewis is starting to lap the top 10! He's not under pressure from Daniel either. He's really gonna win Monaco again. 5 laps to go. Holding my breath. He's gonna be so happy about this. Seb is just one second away from the podium… That would be nice… Come on baby. 4 laps to go. Seb is 0.7 seconds away. 3 laps to go. Seb lost a bit of time. 2 laps to go. It's starting to rain, Sainz says. It's too late for it to make a difference, surely. Final lap!

It's the end of the race!

LEWIS WINS IN MONACO! And that's his first win in 2016 as well, damn. Somehow Hulkenberg ultimately finished ahead of Nico. He takes his time around the track, Lewis. Crowd pleaser.

He is so happy he's basically crowd surfing his crew. He receives congratulations from Justin Bieber and it's extremely cringe. He sets down his stuff, puts the cap on and then hugs his crew AGAIN. Goes back to chat with Bieber. Shakes Perez’ hand. Daniel is unhappy. Understandably. Face closed, shaking his head. Lewis gets his trophy. Throws it HIGH!

When Daniel gets his trophy Lewis also shakes his hand, tells him a word or two. Anthem time.

They pose for the photo.

Lewis gives the champagne to Bieber to taste then generously drowns the mechanics. Ricciardo is not taking part. Checo is hugging his guys. Lewis crouches on his step instead of coming down to talk to Brundle.

He thanks everyone and says he's at a loss for words, he prayed for a time like this and it came.

The stint length was crazy and it was close. He congratulated Daniel for how well he drove all weekend, he calls him one of the best drivers he raced against. He says he's looking forward to many more battles. He knows he's unhappy because it's always disappointing to start one pole and finish second but he should be proud of how well he drove.

While Ricciardo's interview starts, Perez and Lewis clinks bottles behind his head. The "tink" of the glass is heard loud and clear.

When they get back to Lewis, Brundle reminds him of the gap in the championship : 26 points. "Game on," he says. Lewis chuckles with a hollow voice.

He says he hasn't even thought about that yet. He says he forgot to congratulate Sergio, who did an amazing job to come up from where he was. He says of course they're still in the battle, there's a long long way to go. "Just when you feel it couldn't get any worse it gets better." You can't ever give up.

Apparently Horner refuses to give an interview. Toto is beaming though. He still says he's sorry about the RBR boys mishap because you never want this to happen to anybody. I mean. Sure Toto. He says they had issues with brake temperatures on both cars that caused problems every restart but Nico suffered more from it than Lewis. He also confirms Nico letting Lewis ahead was a team order. Simon says the gap is 24, not 26. He's confident for Montréal, but the others are catching up to them for sure.

Nico says the decision to let Lewis ahead was pretty straight forward. He doesn't make a big deal out of it. It was clear he was off the pace while Lewis still had a chance to win. From the team's point of view it's simple.

Lewis is asked how this win ranks in his career. He chuckles. It feels like the best race ever but he's had a lot of races and can't remember all of them.

He says this one he feels in his heart he earned. It didn't feel like a stroke of luck, he did the most. He chuckles again. He used every skill he had to stay ahead of Daniel, OH RIGHT. IT'S HIS 44TH WIN. IN MONACO. Ohhh symbols, symbols. He says it feels like a long time he hasn't won. About the call to stay out when everybody was putting for inters he says the mixed conditions are generally his favourite, although he wasn't the fastest in these conditions today, Daniel was, because they had more downforce this weekend. He says he decided to stay out. (Earlier Toto said the pit wall had a whole conversation about it and it was a team decision, Lewis being part of the team.) He says he was told to box and he said no because if he did he'd have to do it again 10-15 laps later given how fast the track was drying.

He says when he came out though it was like driving on ice. He's eager to get back to them and have a drink and enjoy.

The journalist says he said earlier in the weekend the ultrasofts weren't soft enough for him but now they're probably good enough? He says he's glad… He breathes out with this look of wonder he has when he's excited.

He says he had a long way to go on these tyres. The crazy thing is you don't know how long these tyres can go but there's a number of things you can do in the car to try to make them last longer. Daniel was picking up the pace and he was trying to speed up and slow down and "just tryna keep them sweet" but you never know when they'll drop off the cliff. It felt like it went on forever. He says it's a short lap here but 47 laps is a lot. Oh my god. He crosses his hands on his heart, raises his shoulders. "I'm grateful to got them…" He shakes his fist slightly, he's a child. "So happy!"

And then it's time for the final interview while Lewis is trying to walk through the paddock. For some reason he pushes Johnny away, "Hey get out of here man!" Johnny laughs.

"Good seeing you smile buddy," he says.

I guess Lewis was a bit grumpy after that pre race interview after all. Lewis says he doesn't know how the race looked but it felt incredible. "one of the hardest races." The rain is so tricky and Monaco is horrible in the rain. Johnny says he was under a lot of pressure fighting Ricciardo, the conditions, he must feel so relieved to finally win. He says unfortunately he doesn't feel relieved at all. He says he went out there and took what he needed to get. He doesn't feel lucky or… "No no no but it's been a long time," Johnny says. Lewis is still talking "... Or 'Thank God' , I don't feel like that. Of course it's been a long time but today – thank you man," he interrupts himself to answer a guy congratulating him on the way. "I just feel incredibly proud of the job we did, of the decision I made to stay out, not crashing, you know, with all the opportunities out there I could've for sure crashed but I just feel very proud." Eventually, prompted by Simon this time, he agrees it's been a long time. He says it's one of the hardest races to win. He's again interrupted by someone congratulating him on the way. "Merci," he says. "One of the hardest races to win," he continues. "I mean why is it so damn hard." They chuckle. "But I love it." – "You like hard," Johnny says. Which uh. 🥴 Anyway. They're doing this interview while walking up narrow metallic stairs, it's awful. He says he'll be celebrating with friends that night. He says they'll definitely party, the music is already going.

He looks at the camera. "Blessings to everyone, thanks so much for the support."

A few minutes later we see Merc taking the team photo. As Ted repeats, Nico really offered Lewis this win in a sense. And that's such an interesting thing to point out in their dynamic.

#f1 #lewis hamilton #vro0m's race reviews #2016 #2016 monaco gp

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baixueagain · 3 years

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The Gendo & Rei Question, Part III

For the Intro and Part I, go here.

For Part II, go here.

Part III: The Gaze of the Prodigal Son

Both Rei I and Rei III are “alive” for only a short period, and it is Rei II—the clone active from roughly 2014 through most of 2015—that we as the audience get to know the best. This is also the clone that has the most developed and complex relationship with Gendo, and we learn most of what we know about how Gendo views Rei as a whole from his behaviour with Rei II.

Rei II and Gendo’s relationship during 2014-15—especially how they feel about it for themselves—is nevertheless one of the more difficult relationships to understand, since they’re two of the most mysterious characters in Evangelion. We rarely get glimpses into Rei’s point of view, and Gendo only truly speaks about his own emotional and psychological state in the final moments of his life during EoE. Even then, he only speaks of his feelings about Yui and Shinji, not Rei. In fact, he virtually never speaks to others about Rei unless he is talking about her involvement with piloting or the HIP. We only get a few glimpses of their direct interactions, and while these are highly charged with multiple layers of innuendo, those same layers of innuendo make the situation all the more opaque.

One of the best perspectives we have on Gendo and Rei’s relationship, I argue, comes from Shinji. Granted, he’s the main character and most of the story of Evangelion is told from his point of view, but his perception of Gendo and Rei is just as valuable for another reason: he’s an outsider. NERV is by its very nature a place of secrecy and high strangeness, and it stands to reason that most of the people working there have long since become desensitized to their Commander’s odd personality quirks and the strange, solemn girl serving as his first pilot. Even Misato, who has only just recently started working in Tokyo-3 proper, has been in NERV/Gehirn’s general orbit since her childhood and thus seems fairly used to Gendo Ikari’s personality and the odd way things are done under his supervision. But now we have Shinji in the picture, who’s had minimal contact with his father and who has spent most of his life in the “normal” world, sequestered from the truth of the family business. His perspective is that of the everyman, and he is thus primed to see the unusual parts of NERV that other characters take for granted. Moreover, unlike virtually everyone else at NERV (except for Ritsuko, whose perspective I will be addressing in the future), he is uniquely invested in both Gendo and Rei as people: Gendo being his estranged father, and Rei being his co-pilot and thus someone with whom he feels a sense of camaraderie (even if he barely knows her).

Shinji arrives at NERV shortly after Rei has a serious accident—one that he does not yet know about. His first-ever interaction with Rei happens in tandem with his first interaction with Gendo in years, and this consists of Gendo dangling a wounded, crying girl over Shinji’s head to manipulate him into piloting Unit-01. It is a brutal, cruel tactic, and Shinji seems to recognize this for exactly what it is. He has already accused Gendo of just using him (something to which Gendo openly admits); from his perspective, it at first seems that his father cares just as little for the poor young woman on the gurney who can barely stand, much less pilot.

This viewpoint is only challenged when, unknown to Gendo, Shinji spots the burn scars covering his father’s palms in Episode 5. His reaction to being told the truth—that Gendo freed the wounded Rei from her overheated entry plug bare-handed (a scene I will discuss in later essays)—clearly stuns him after seeing the cold, calculating way Gendo used her condition to manipulate him earlier. “Father did that?” he blurts out. The concept clearly seems unbelievable to him, defying everything he thinks he knows of Gendo being a heartless, cold, selfish man.

Interestingly enough, as Ritsuko describes Gendo’s heroic deed to Shinji, the “camera” momentarily moves outside the limits of Shinji’s perspective and shows us what Gendo is doing at that very moment. He is bare-handed (a rarity for him during the A-plot) and for once he has an open, receptive expression on his face as he examines the Angel’s core in obvious wonder and fascination. His lips almost form an excited little smile and the harsh lines of his face are softened. His naked hands touch the core gently, practically caressing it with just his bare fingertips. Considering Evangelion’s repeated use of hand- and touch-related symbolism, it is likely meant to reflect something of his inner emotional world. This is the first time during the A-plot (that is, the plot following Shinji’s perspective and experiences) in which we see Gendo with his emotional guard down. And it comes at the exact moment Shinji learns of his father’s act of self-sacrificial vulnerability for Rei’s sake.

The idea that his father might allow himself to be hurt for anyone is utterly alien to Shinji, and this in turn is what prompts him to become more curious about Rei. Notably, the next scene is one of immediate contrast: “The burns on his palms are from then,” says Ritsuko, recalling the searing heat of the plug. The shot instantly cuts to a young girl’s body plunging into water. It’s just a small touch, but yet another masterful moment in the way Evangelion uses visual language and careful word choices to create an unspoken discussion on themes. This, we are being told, is going to be an episode about contrasts and subversions. It will also be an episode about sex.

The poolside scene is the first in which Rei is first explicitly treated as a sexual being—at least from others’ points of view. Shinji is teased twice about his interest in Rei, the first time by his friends Toji and Kensuke, both of whom clearly see Rei as a beautiful (if unapproachable and intimidating) girl. The two of them (being high school boys) describe her body in explicitly sexualized terms, much to Shinji’s embarrassment. At the same time, we’re treated to shots of Rei sitting quietly in her bathing suit, oblivious to their chatter. She is small and vulnerable, but her bare skin and curvy form has still been made into something with sexual energy and potential.

Back at NERV HQ after school, Shinji watches Rei without her knowledge, still clearly curious about her. Notably, up until this point he has never seen any emotional expressions from her (unless you count her agony in Episode 1). She has kept her distance entirely, and he realizes that despite working together for at least a couple weeks now, he knows virtually nothing about her. There are no relationships in which he can observe her behaviour with others…except for Gendo.

As he secretly watches within his cockpit, Shinji watches his father approach Rei. Rei suddenly begins acting her age in her body; instead of moving stiffly, she skips and hops eagerly down onto the walkway and begins chatting with Gendo, a cheerful smile on her face and her eyes bright and alert.

What’s even more shocking to Shinji, however, is Gendo: unlike the scene with the angel core, here Shinji can actually witness his father’s change in demeanour for himself. The Gendo that Shinji knows is a stern, unfeeling man whose rare expressions are that of irritation or a cruel smugness. But as Gendo chats with Rei, his eyes are soft, and a happy smile is on his face. His cheeks even look a bit flushed. Just as important is the way they’re both speaking to each other: although we can’t hear them, we can see their body language and their interaction. They are standing face-to-face, gazing into each other’s eyes, each speaking in turn. They are practically interacting like equals.

Is it little wonder that Shinji’s jaw is on the floor?

As always, Anno’s masterful direction creates an unmistakable atmosphere laid across what might otherwise look like a pleasant scene. Shinji’s hidden vantage point, the oblivious radio chatter from the control room, the low single chord of background music, and the fact that we can’t hear a word that Gendo and Rei are saying: all these things contribute to the sensation that we, along with Shinji, have just witnessed something intensely private. Something that neither we nor Shinji were meant to see.

The scene immediately following this is, once again, Shinji being teased for showing an interest in Rei—this time by two attractive older women. Again the pressure to see Rei as a sexual being is mounted, and the additional overtones of a discussion about sex between a teenager and adults is added. This rapid switch back and forth between Shinji learning about the relationship between Gendo and Rei and being repeatedly asked if he’s interested in Rei himself (all the above scenes take place over the course of about ten minutes) creates an uncomfortable dissonance that charges the episode with a confusing, unnerving sexual tension. At the same time, Rei and Gendo are explicitly brought up and compared to one another: both are terribly awkward, we are told, at life in general.

And that’s when the climactic scene of the episode drops on us like a N2, bringing all these interweaving themes to an awkward, disgusting, hilarious, and horrifying head. Shinji goes to Rei’s apartment to drop off her new NERV ID card. Nobody answers the door, which he finds unlocked, so he enters. The room is filthy and spartan; the girl who lives here clearly does not care much about her surroundings or her possessions.

But Shinji is drawn to the room’s one treasure: a pair of broken glasses carefully set on top of Rei’s dresser. We as the audience are let in on a higher degree of discomfort by knowing something Shinji does not: those once belonged to Gendo, who dropped them when he recklessly pried open the plug door to rescue Rei. Gendo is thus made extremely present in the scene to the audience, even if Shinji cannot sense him.

I should note here the significance of Gendo’s glasses as a part of his personality. I have noted before that they are an additional layer that he puts on himself as a means of separating himself from others. Though he used to wear clear lenses, after those break he switches to tinted ones, making his expressions even harder to read and representing the increasingly rapid withdrawal of his personal investment and motivations from the rest of NERV and SEELE. His glasses frequently reflect the light, making it difficult to see his eyes even when he’s wearing the clear lenses. The direction of his gaze is thus frequently hidden, and with it his thoughts, feelings, and motives.

And yet the glasses reflect other things on occasion, too, informing the audience of what Gendo is looking at and what he’s concentrating on. Shots of his face thus have a doubling effect of simultaneously hiding and revealing his gaze: we can see glimpses of what he is gazing at, but only by looking directly at his face and into the glasses which reflect his vantage point. His perspective is simultaneously revealed and hidden.

So as Shinji approaches the broken glasses on Rei’s dresser, his face is reflected in them—something we rarely (perhaps never?) see happen when Gendo is actually wearing them. His gaze on his son is thus simultaneously present and absent, accentuating the deep dichotomies of their relationship.

That’s when Shinji does something that feels even more shocking (almost taboo) from the viewpoint of the audience, based on our prior knowledge: he puts them on. It is an incredibly childish gesture, reminding us once again that he’s nothing more than a curious fourteen-year-old boy, but at the same moment he—in the audience’s eyes—becomes his father (emphasized by their similar physical appearance).

And what is the first thing he sees through his father’s eyes after he turns around and looks behind himself?

It’s Rei, fully naked, staring back at him.

Yet at the same time, his view of Rei is blurred and cracked, reminding us definitively that these are not his glasses.

This, the shot suggests, is not his sight to see. This sight of Rei’s nakedness “belongs” to someone else. Already we are being told exactly what Gendo has seen, how much of it, and that he owns this sight—or at least thinks he does.

The events that follow are on their surface hilarious due to the awkward nature of the situation, but the staging and shots used (for lack of a better word) are a recollection of the scene down in the cage: Shinji has entered in on something that he should not be witnessing, something that is not for him. Rei strides forward to seize the glasses from him, Shinji slips and topples onto her, his tote catches on her dresser drawer and sends bras and panties flying everywhere. He lands on top of her, covered in her private items, in a slapstick missionary position with a hand on her breast—and in showing us this, the introductory focus in the pan is of her own hand clutching the glasses. Gendo’s presence is again invoked, even in this deeply awkward, intimate, and violating moment. He is the third, invisible character in this deeply sexually charged scene.

At the same time, this is the moment where we as an audience begin to see what makes Rei tick. She seems to have no reaction to Shinji seeing her nakedness (leading us, of course, to wonder why), but it is the first moment in which she has a direct emotional reaction to Shinji: anger. But instead of hiding herself, she walks towards him and seizes the glasses away. Shinji walking in on her bathing was not a violation in her eyes, but his wearing his father’s glasses is. Once again, we are given the uncanny message that Rei’s body is treated as a commodity—including by Rei herself. This time, however, we are given an alternative source of her identity. She does not derive her sense of self from her embodiedness, but from something more intangible, represented by the one item in her life treated with reverence: the glasses. She is given her sense of identity through Gendo’s gaze, and it is Shinji’s appropriation of this gaze that she finds violating. Even as Shinji lands on top of her, a hand on her chest, her anger is gone because the issue is resolved: she has the glasses back in her possession and Shinji is no longer invading that space (even as he inadvertently invades other spaces).

Shinji’s next violation provokes an even stronger response. Despite the horrifically awkward event, it has at least broken the ice, and as they travel together to NERV HQ he begins trying to make conversation about their commonality: Eva piloting. This then invokes the silent third party in this entire exchange: Gendo. Rei asks if Shinji has faith in his father’s work, and when he furiously denies it, she turns, looks him square in the eyes, and slaps him hard across the face.

And this, of course, seems odd (even humorous) until one realizes why she perceives this as such an insult: she is his father’s work. An insult to her person is of no consequence in her eyes, but an insult to Gendo is an insult to something far more intrinsic to her identity and her emotional world. Between these two scenes, we have seen just how wrapped up Rei’s sense of identity is in Gendo, and in further essays I will argue that the reverse is true as well. Gendo cannot conceive of Rei as existing outside of himself, her identity is so deeply wrapped up in his own. If he ever did conceive of her as a separate being, he will have lost this ability by time Instrumentality arrives.

Yet at the same time, between all these questions of identity and sexual violation, we see toward the end of the episode that there is a layer that is far more simple and human: Rei takes Gendo’s glasses with her into the entry plug when it’s time for her resynchronization, and she hangs them where she can look at them when she feels afraid.

Because she is, in the end, also a fourteen-year-old who wants someone to make her feel safe.

To be continued in Part IV: Green-Eyed Monsters

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#gendo ikari #rei ayanami #shinji ikari #neon genesis evangelion #nge #meta #bai xue writes

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mickey-millagher · 3 years

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Mickey stepped out onto the Gallagher front porch, his current search for his husband had been so far been fruitless but the ladder leaned up against the porch roof was starting to shed some light on his whereabouts.

Making his way down the front steps and looking up, Mickey was greeted by the shock of red hair belonging to the one and only Ian Gallagher.

“Ian the fuck are you doing up there?”

Ian looked down, seemingly unsurprised by Mickey’s presence, which really in itself wasn’t shocking, the two of them had hardly spent any time apart since they got married.

“Liam and Franny’s frisbee got stuck up here, said I’d get it back for them.”

Mickey rolled his eyes at his do-gooder husband. “Ain’t you meant to have someone holding those things?”

“Worried about my safety Mick?” Ian grinned down at him.

Mickey was about to reply that no, he absolutely was not, and fuck you for thinking so, when a gunshot rang out from around the corner. Ian with his soft centre that no years of hardship seemed to ever quite have stamped out of him, jumped at the noise, the motion causing him to lose his footing and go falling to the ground, ladder right after him.

“Fuck, Ian.” Mickey yelled, rushing to the younger mans side, pushing the ladder off of him where it had landed on his face, a cut to start swelling up in its wake.

“Hey, hey you okay?”

No response.

“Fuck.”

Mickey, quickly checked for breathing, letting out a sign of relief when he felt his husbands steady breath still coming through. Pulling Ian’s head onto his lap he then got out his phone to call for an ambulance.

“911, what’s your emergency?”

“I need an ambulance, my husband hit his head and he’s not waking up.”

“Okay sir, can you tell me your location?”

“Err shit um.” He quickly looked up at the house number. “2119 South Wallace.”

“Okay an ambulance is coming. I need you to answer a few questions for me. Is your husband still breathing?”

“Yeah, he’s breathing fine.”

“Good, that’s a really good sign. And his pulse?”

“Fuck, I don’t know, he’s the one who knows all the medical shit.”

“Take his wrist and place your thumb on the outside corner.” The voice guided him through.

Mickey placed the phone on the grass to follow the woman’s instructions. Clumsily attempting to pinpoint Ian’s pulse, a nurse of sheer panic flew through him when he couldn’t immediately find it, his breath coming out in quick, jagged pants when he did locate Ian’s, thankfully, steady pulse.

“Yeah, his pulse is good.” Mickey breathed down the phone.

“Okay, these are all good signs. The ambulance should be with you soon but your husband should be okay in the mean time.”

“Should be?” But the phone line was already dead.

“Shit, c’mon Gallagher, get up you stubborn son of a bitch.”

Maybe he heard him or maybe it was coincidence but at that moment Ian let out a groan.

“Ian?”

“Mickey?” Ian blinked, confused, back up at him. Unsteadily pulling himself up from the shorter mans lap.

“Woah, easy, you took a fucking nose dive off the roof.”

Ian stared back at him, drawing in on himself slightly.

“What?” The younger man asked.

“You don’t remember?”

Ian shook his head, immediately wincing and bringing a hand up to his head.

“What are you still doing here?” Ian asked after a second.

The question took Mickey aback.

“Where the fuck else would I be?”

Ian shrugged, crawling back to lean against the chainlink fence.

“Most people don’t stick around after a breakup.”

It was Mickeys turn to stare, not understanding a word that was coming out of his husbands mouth.

“What the fuck are you talking about? That fall knock a few screws loose? We just got married, that was the end of our breakups.” Mickey said, wiggling his ring finger in front of Ian to prove his point.

Ian stared at the ring wrapped around Mickeys finger before lifting up his own left hand to examine his finger ring. He touched the ring with such a mixture of emotions, Mickey couldn’t even pinpoint them all. Confusion, disbelief, shock, fear, and awe, being among them.

Ian’s eyes flickered back up to Mickey’s, mouth open no doubt to ask another strange and confusing question when the sirens sound came blearing down the street.

“We got a call that a man had suffered a head wound at this address?” The first paramedic out of the ambulance asked.

Mickey pointed them over towards Ian.

“My husband. He just woke up and he’s been acting fucking weird since.”

The paramedics came over to where Ian was hunched by the fence.

“Hello, sir. We heard you had an accident.”

Ian shrugged, not paying much attention to the people in front of him, his focus still on the ring on his finger.

“Sir, could you tell us your name?”

“Ian Gallagher.” He replied softly, having yet to look up at the paramedics.

“Hi, Ian. Would you mind if I looked at your head?” The male paramedic asked.

Again Ian shrugged, moving slightly away from the fence to allow better access.

While the male paramedic examined Ian, the female one crouched within his eyesight.

“Hey Ian, could you answer just a couple of questions for me?”

“Okay.”

“Great.” The woman replied, way too brightly for someone who was meant to be making sure Ian was okay, at least in Mickey’s opinion. “What do you remember prior to the impact?”

Ian’s eyes flickered up to meet Mickey’s before looking back at the paramedic.

“Umm, I’d just gotten back from a trip with my mom.”

Mickey stilled, Ian’s answers earlier had been strange but not thinking he’d been hanging out with his dead mother strange.

“Do you remember what lead to you hitting your head?” The paramedic asked, this time using a light to shine into Ian’s eyes while she waited for his answer.

“No.” Ian replied, wincing slightly as the other paramedic continued his check of Ian’s skull.

“Okay that’s perfectly normal. Can you tell me what year it is?”

“2014.” Ian’s answer came with no hesitation but the simple date brought Mickey’s world grounding to a halt.

2014, that was the year Ian had been diagnosed with bipolar disorder. The year Mickey had been sentenced to fifteen years behind bars. And the year Ian had torn his heart to shreds in this very front yard.

No wonder Ian had been confused by his presence, why he thought they were broken up, why he didn’t know they were married.

The paramedic however seemed to just take this answer in her stride. “Do you know where we are?”

“This is my house.”

“Do you know who the president is?”

“Obama?” Ian asked, getting confused by the random questions.

“okay, and finally, can you tell me the days of the week backwards?”

“Umm, Sunday, Saturday, Friday— fuck it’s um.” Ian’s eyes flickered back to Mickey in a panic.

“Hey, it’s okay, there’s no wrong answers here, we just need to access how best to help you.” This came from the male paramedic, who had apparently finished his head assessment.

“It’s um— Thursdays, Wednesday, Tuesday, Monday.”

“That’s great Ian.”

“So I’m okay?”

“Ian, have you heard of the condition amnesia?”

“Yeah?” Ian replied, a slight questioning lilt to his voice, not yet understanding what Mickey was just starting to piece together.

“During my questions you said you believe it’s 2014 and that Obama is President. Do you still believe that?”

“Yes?” Ian replied, nerves now clouding his voice.

“Ian, the year is 2020.” The paramedic informed him gently.

Ian looked between the two health workers before looking up to Mickey, as if to ask for confirmation.

Mickey nodded and Ian let out a shuddering breath, closing his eyes while leaning back against the fence while he took it all in.

“We’d like for you to come down to the hospital so we can run some routine tests to make sure you’re okay. Amnesia is common after head wounds and usually goes away on its own but it’s important we check nothing else is going on.”

Ian nodded, getting up slowly from his position to follow them to the ambulance.

Mickey made to go after him.

“You don’t have to come, you don’t owe me anything.” Ian said when he heard the footsteps following him.

Mickey was glad Ian was facing away from him so he couldn’t see how much those words broke his heart.

“Fuck off Gallagher, I know I don’t owe you shit, still gonna make sure you’re okay.”

“I don’t need a nurse.” Ian complained, now turning to face the older man.

“Think the doc said the opposite.”

Ian huffed at his answer but made no more moves to stop Mickey from following him into the ambulance.

~page break-

The L ride back to the house had been spent in silence, the walk from the L didn’t seem to be faring any better. The doctors at the hospital had cleared Ian of any major damage, just a slight concussion and told them to come back in a week if his memory still hadn’t improved. Stupid doctors go to all their fancy medical schools but still couldn’t help Ian when he was hurt.

“You don’t have to come back to the house you know.” It was the first thing Ian had said since they left the hospital.

“Considering I live there I kinda fucking do.”

“Right.” Ian started fiddling with his wedding ring, going back to looking between Mickey and the ring like he still couldn’t quite believe it.

They fell back into silence for a couple more minutes.

“Why did you want to marry me?” The voice came out small, the words so vividly reminiscent of Ian’s fears before their wedding. Words and worries that they’d moved past, but only Mickey remembered that now.

“Jesus fucking Christ.” Mickey laughed, there was no joy in it but once he started he found it incredibly hard to stop.

Ian stood there in alarm, watching Mickey have his, breakdown? Was this a breakdown? It felt like a breakdown. All there years of life constantly pulling them apart was meant to be over and now Ian couldn’t even remember it. He should’ve known not to get too settled.

“Have you gone fucking crazy too?”

That just made him laugh more. Mickey shook his head at his husband, taking a couple of minutes to calm himself down.

“You’re not fucking crazy.”

“Yes I am. There’s too much wrong with me, why would you choose to tie yourself down to me? I have nothing to offer you.”

“We got married cause we fucking love each other.” Mickey replied, Ian’s words from the diner proposal ringing in his ears.

“What so we really did go down to the courthouse in some tuxes like a couple of old queens?” Ian asked with a small joyless laugh.

“Polish Doll actually.”

“Aren’t they homophobes?”

“Worked around it.” Mickey replied, lips twitching upwards just at the memory of that day. “C’mon man, let’s not do this here.”

Ian sighed but seemed slightly more accepting of Mickey coming home with him now, or at least he wasn’t outwardly fighting it as they continued the short trudge back to the South Wallace house.

“I’m tired, think I’m gonna go to bed early.”

“You sure that’s okay? They said you had a concussion.”

“A mild concussion. And it’s fine, as long as I can walk straight and keep a conversation I can sleep.”

Mickey’s heart leapt up in his chest at those words, was he starting to remember?

“You remember all that medical shit?”

“What medical shit? Carl’s always getting concussions so I remember that stuff.”

Mickey tried to hide his disappointment but probably not well enough as Ian gave him a weird look before shaking his head and climbing up the stairs.

Mickey sighed as he watched the retreating form of his husband, tears prickling in the corners of his eyes that he refused to let fall as he headed to get a beer from the fridge. The first of likely many this evening.

Mickey was halfway through his second one when the front door opened, Carl, Debbie and Franny coming into the house, with the two siblings arguing about some dumb shit or other. The noise soon bringing Liam down from his room.

Not for the first time Mickey was grateful for how self obsessed the majority of the Gallaghers were. Liam had acknowledged him before being dragged into whatever drama his siblings had going on, while Franny was too invested in her cartoons to notice much. Meaning Mickey got away with mostly staying out of it while he finished his beer before deciding it was time to check on his husband.

Slowly pulling the accordion door open, Mickey swore his beat stopped when he saw that the room was empty, remembering teenaged Ian’s tendency to run when things got hard. Pulling back quickly, Mickey scanned the first floor of the house before landing on the slightly ajar door to the old boys room.

Rushing down the hall, Mickey only felt like he could breathe again once the rickety old door was open and he could see Ian curled up on his old bed, having forgotten he ever moved rooms.

Mickey went back to their bedroom, digging around under the bed to find the wedding album he’d created with Franny not that long ago. His young niece insisting she’d be a big help. The overall look ended up being slightly childish but it would still hopefully have the desired effect today, to get Ian to realised what he hadn’t been able to six years ago. That he loved him and wasn’t going anywhere.

Back in the boys room, Mickey carefully placed the album down on the side table. Leaning over he ran his fingers through Ian’s hair, the younger man nuzzling into his hand even in his sleep, looking so peaceful all the while.

Mickey couldn’t bring himself to wake him up, if he didn’t have his memories back, all being awake would bring him was pain and misery. At least in his sleep he he could be happy.

Mickey grabbed a pillow from the abandoned third bed and lay down on the floor to wait, he didn’t want to be too far away from Ian, not right now but the days events had been too exhausting. He just needed to close his eyes for a few seconds

~page break-

When Ian woke up the room was lit only by the moonlight streaming in through the window. He could hear snores coming from the other occupants of the room, Carl up in the bunk bed and— Mickey sleeping on the floor? Ian remembered the events of the day, the doctors who told him he’d forgotten six years of his life, and Mickey who had stayed by his side throughout all of it, not caring about the breakup. Although, he supposed, to Mickey that must seem like ancient history by now.

Leaning over to properly look at his now husband, Ian’s eye caught something resting beside the bed that hadn’t been there before.

Picking it up he couldn’t help the small gasp that left him once he realised what was in his hands. The photo on the front was of Mickey and himself, dressed up in fancy tuxes, flipping the camera off with their other arms wrapped around each other.

Ian brushed his finger against the photo Mickey softly before slowly turning the page. The album was filled with photos upon photos of them, dancing, laughing, kissing. The ones that must have been taken while they exchanged their vows made him pause the most. The serious looks on their faces, followed by the utter joy in their grins from the pictures of them walking down the aisle together.

They fucking loved each other. After everything, they really fucking loved each other.

Ian pulled the album to his chest, tears leaking from the corner of his eyes. He wanted to keep looking but his head was hurting now more than ever and it helped to close his eyes.Still it wasn’t long before he fell asleep, soothed by the images of his wedding to the love of his life.

~page break~

Waking up groggy hours later, Ian sat up with a groan, looking around his old room and the down at the album still in his arms confused.

“Hey you’re awake, how are you feeling?” Mickey asked, sitting up from his place on the ground.

Looking at Mickey, Ian suddenly remembered everything that had happened yesterday. It was strange to remember a time that he didn’t remember so much of his life.

Ian quickly moved off the bed to wrap his arms around his husband, not being able to go without holding Mickey any longer, they’d lost enough time and yesterday only proved that.

“I’m so sorry Mick.”

Mickey tensed in his arms.

“What you sorry about?”

“Yesterday, fuck, I’m sorry. I don’t know how I’d manage if all you remembered was from one of our breakups.” Ian breathed into his neck.

“You remember?” Mickey asked, not quite ready to let his guard down after the hell that had been the day before.

“I remember everything Mick.”

Ian couldn’t be sure but thought he heard a slight sob before Mickey’s arms tightened around him, bringing him as close to his body as possible.

“Don’t fucking do that again Gallagher.”

“I promise Mick.” Ian replied, kissing Mickey’s neck where his head was buried. “I’m not going anywhere.”

#amnesia fic #ian gallagher #mickey milkovich #gallavich #shameless #shameless fanfic #shameless fanfiction #gallavich fanfic #gallavich fanfiction #it’s set some time between 10x12 and 11x10 I dunno when tho #this is 100% full of medical inaccuracies but I wrote it across two bad days of long Covid symptoms #and like my dissertation is due in a week so I’ve got no time or energy to properly research #I might edit this in the future and make it more realistic to post on ao3 or something #Freya’s fics

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ceaseless-enemy · 3 years

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TURNTABLES AU: THE KRIEGHAUS CORRESPONDENCE LETTERS

CONTENT WARNINGS: mentions of torture methods, evil RHM content, death, corpses, trauma, very vague descriptions of medical procedure

you have been warned

February 27th, 2014

To: Hubert Galeforce

From: Wilhelm Krieghaus

I’m surprised you decided to contact me. I was under the impression the Toppats were an “every man for himself” sort of group.

That said, I think you were right to be concerned this time around. The impression General Copperbottom gives off is of someone that believes Toppats are tantamount to war criminals.

I’ll talk with The Lieutenant soon and try to assure things remain as civil as possible in this situation, although I can’t exactly guarantee he’ll be receptive. He seems to be very irritable since Canterbury’s arrival.

April 2nd, 2014

To: Hubert Galeforce

From: Wilhelm Krieghaus

He wasn’t very receptive. In fact, he got angry at me for even suggesting that we try for more peaceful resolution. I didn’t expect him to agree with something fully nonviolent of course, but it was like he couldn’t fathom a solution where it wasn’t required.

He went as far as to mention the idea of enhanced interrogation. I reminded him that people are debating about it right now; that a majority of people in the US find it barbaric, and him enacting it would cause unneeded controversy.

Usually The Lieutenant is a very practical and logical man, but I’m worried that what I told him won’t be enough to sway him.

May 17th, 2014

To: Hubert Galeforce

From: Wilhelm Krieghaus

He enacted the first set of interrogation techniques that I mentioned in my last letter. I didn’t exactly expect him to do it, but now that he’s crossed that line, I’ll have to shift my goal.

I can’t prevent him from breaking ethical codes, but I’ll try to dissuade him from going into more physical interrogation methods. I don’t have much else to say.

I can barely register it all.

January 23rd, 2015

To: Lieutenant R. H. M.

From: Wilhelm Krieghaus

I read what you’ve written down. Your recent activities, and your thoughts behind them.

What’s wrong with you?

I’m serious. I never expected all of this to come from you. Sure, you’ve never been the most expressive person, but you’ve always had a good core. You’ve always cared about people.

The way you talk about it is all I can think about. Like you’re doing menial housework. Like you’re cleaning a window. You hate it, but once you’ve done it, you sound so proud.

I can’t believe that you’d just do that. There has to be something I’m missing. We need to talk about this as soon as you have time off.

February 7th, 2015

To: Hubert Galeforce

From: Wilhelm Krieghaus

I talked with The Lieutenant again the other day. I’m a little out of sorts. I’m sorry if this isn’t as succinct or formal as usual. I failed at dissuading him from more unsavory ideas again. It’s like he’s determined to do this.

What does he even have to gain? What does he want from the Toppats? Do you know? Is there even anything specific, or does he only have venom for you because he’s General Copperbottoms sycophant?

I’m sorry. You don’t even know what I’m so upset about. Next week, he’s incorporating more barbaric enhanced interrogation techniques. I can’t guarantee Canterbury’s safety (mental or physical) anymore. If there’s anything I can think of that I can do aside from giving you updates, I’ll let you know.

February 15th, 2015

To: Lieutenant R. H. M.

From: Wilhelm Krieghaus

You haven’t come by my office lately. I assume it’s over our disagreements? Look. I don’t want our friendship to end over political differences.

I may not agree with you, but why is that a problem? Please consider: If you understand my perspective, and I understand yours, it can be beneficial to the both of us. As people, as friends, and as military workers. Just food for thought.

I don’t think having only the general as company is good for you.

April 3, 2021

February 29th, 2015

To: Hubert Galeforce

From: Wilhelm Krieghaus

The more time passes, the more this escalates. From what I’ve heard, Canterbury’s jaw is broken. There isn’t much I can do for him at the moment. I have no way to access him.

This entire situation; The Lieutenant, The General, having to lie to the higher-ups, having to see my colleagues lie for their own sakes: It’s FUBAR.

This surpasses the legality of what you do. This surpasses legal jargon in general. This sort of thing is ethics.

The most I can do is document, although I don’t know how helpful that is right now. I’ll keep you posted if anything new comes up.

To: Lieutenant R. H. M.

From: Wilhelm Krieghaus

I’ve been thinking about the Canterbury situation, lately. More specifically, about his broken jaw. I don’t think he’ll be able to confess anything in that state.

I know it’s pointless to ask you to stop the enhanced interrogations, but may I suggest stopping the waterboarding? It’s impractical.

I just want you to think about it.

May 27th, 2015

To: Hubert Galeforce

From: Wilhelm Krieghaus

This will be brief. Not much new has happened, just more torture. It brings me no pleasure to write that so flippantly.

Today, though, was a lot. Several hours ago, everyone in the camp heard screaming. Not just yelling, or your standard screams of distress we’d almost grown used to; this was different. It was inhuman shrieking.

I asked The Lieutenant what happened, but he just shrugged and said “nothing”. He’s never lied about what he’s done before. I believe him.

… What was that, then?

June 28th, 2015

To: Hubert Galeforce

From: Wilhelm Krieghaus

Canterbury’s brother was threatened, according to the Lieutenant’s logs. I would recommend checking on him, or keeping an eye on him in general.

The Lieutenant hasn’t crossed that line yet, but I don’t know how long that will last.

[12:23 AM]

July 20th, 2015

To: Hubert Galeforce

From: Wilhelm Krieghaus

The Lieutenant has become unrecognizable to me at this point. I never thought he’d go this far. At this point, he’s stopped caring whether or not Canterbury ends up dead.

At first I thought he was never this type of person. A big part of me desperately wanted to believe that General Copperbottom took something small in him and twisted it into something horrible.

The fact of the matter is, The Lieutenant was like this all along. He just never got the opportunity to show it until now.

September 7th, 2015

To: Hubert Galeforce

From: Wilhelm Krieghaus

The Lieutenant came into my office today. He looked so tired. There wasn’t anything else there. He announced: “I killed him.” And sat in front of me in silence for an hour, before leaving.

After an entire year of torture, horror, lying and corruption:

This can’t be how it ends.

The Final Canterbury Log

-Wilhelm Krieghaus

September 9th, 2015

This is the last I’ll write or speak of the matter. After this, I’m done, I’ll wash my hands of this affair, and strive to get court-martialed. Two nights ago, Thomas Chestershire brought H.J. Canterbury’s corpse to me.

I asked him what for, and he told me “The body’s our best chance of getting those two in trouble”. He seems more tired of them than I am. I never really noticed how he felt before I guess. It never mattered.

On top of the conditions Canterbury had been subjected to for a year, rigor mortis had already set in quite a bit. There wasn’t much chance of being salvaged, but dammit I was tired of the constant stress.

So I did what I could.

There was so little left of him at the end of the day, but there was enough. All you really need is a brain; who you are, how you feel, and all your memories. I could have had nothing but a brain.

I had his brain functioning pretty early on, but most of his organs, all his limbs, and his mess of a bottom jaw had to be replaced with advanced augmentations.

It cost me two nights of sleep and basic self-care, but that’s a given.

I have him strapped to the bed currently, for his (and my) safety. His condition is stable but I don’t know when he’s going to wake up.

When I’ve sufficiently explained the situation, I’ll need to find a way to get him to the Toppats undetected and unsuspected (pardon the rhyme.) That is, assuming he will even be able to function that well.

It’s also a possibility that he’ll wake up, with very heavy physical and mental impairments.

I’ll need to make a plan for that.

#turntables #turntable au #turntables au #turntable toppats #turntable government #turntable wilhelm #turntable Lieutenant #turntable Canterbury #etc etc

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nights-legacy · 4 years

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I’m Here - TMNT

how would the boys react to a s/o who is depress and harmful towards herself 2014/16

Requested by @moonlightprime

Leo:

Leo is very observant. Not very surprising. Being so, he picked up on his girlfriend’s strange behavior the moment it started happening. But he didn’t know how to completely react to it. Or more like had no clue what to do. When Donnie said he didn’t know emotions very well, he was right. So it confused him, stunned him, and overall scared him. Especially when she stopped eating.

“Pizza! Pizza! Pizza!” Mikey chanted as Y/N, Casey, and April brought in the multiple boxes. Raph and Donnie both wrestled with their younger brother as he went for the boxes.

“Oh no! Last time you got there first. There was barely enough left for the rest of us.” Raph jokingly chided. Leo shook his head and laughed as he took the boxes from Y/N.

“Hello love.” She smiled but he saw it didn’t reach her eyes. He sighed before setting the boxes down on the table. “Mikey, Raph. Knock it off and come eat.”

“Alright Fearless.” They all sat at the table and dug in. Chatter, stories, and everything but the kitchen sink was going on at the table. Except, Y/N was silent and it didn’t go unnoticed by Leo. Her getting up without a word and walking away caught everyone else’s as well.

“What was that?” Casey asked as they all were silent while watching her walk away. Leo looked down at her plate and saw barely a bite taken out of one slice after sitting there for half an hour.

“Not sure but I am going to find out.” Leo got up and followed the direction she went. He thought back and realized that her eating habits have been getting worse and worse in the past couple of weeks. He walked for a few minutes until he heard shuffling. He looked and saw a pair of converse clad feet. He walked up and leant against the corner she sat.

“Hey Leo.” She greeted quietly. She didn’t look up, she didn’t move, hell if you didn’t just hear her, you would question if she was breathing. His eyes analyzed her, taking in the looser fitting clothing, dark circles, and pale skin.

“Y/N.” He knelt and gently turned her face to look at him. “How long?” She closed her eyes and bit her lip. She opened her mouth to say something but was cut off by a sob. “Oh love.” He gently picked her up and sat down in the same spot, setting her down in his lap.

“It hurts.” She whispered. She took his hand and placed it over her heart. “In here and I don’t know why.” She gripped onto his hand. He took a shaky breath and held her tight. “Please help.”

“I will. The best I can, with my entire being. You’re not alone. You have all of us. We can help you in different ways. Buuut…You need to eat. You can’t keep hu…hurting yourself like this.” Leo’s voice broke. He closed eyes. He felt her nodded her head.

“I will.” She said, calming down a bit. “It won’t be easy.” He nodded. A hand was set on his shoulder. He looked back and saw Raph knelling behind him and everyone else standing there solemnly.

“I know. But we will be there every step of the way.” He said kissing her head.

Raph:

Raph can pick up things. Especially things that affect the people he cares about. So when his normal sassy and sarcastic girlfriend started to turn more quiet and unresponsive, he grew very worried. As soon as he noticed, he kept a close eye on her. Always watching her when she was at the lair, checking on her at home while he was out on patrol, and constant phone contact.

“Dude you are smothering her! Leave her alone!” Mikey said from his spot on the floor. He was playing video games. Raph rolled his eyes and threw his empty Orange Crush can at his head.

“Shut up.” Raph sneered. He sat on the couch with his legged prop on his knee, arm thrown over the back, and phone gripped tightly in his hand. His leg bounced.

“Raph. She’s a big girl and…”

“Mikey.” Leo cut him off, walking up behind the couch. Mikey turned surprised. Leo set hand on Raph’s shoulder. “Anything wrong? Are you and Y/N okay?” He asked concerned. Raph sighed, running a hand down his face.

“We’re okay but she isn’t.” He said. Mikey and Leo shared a look at the worried tone in Raph’s voice. Mikey got up and darted for Donnie’s lab. The two came out quick. Leo sat down next to his brother.

“Anything we can help with?” Leo asked as the other sat down.

“She’s just been quiet. There’s nothing wrong with that but it’s unlike her. She has been acting off for a while and I’m not sure why.

“I have noticed it too. I was wondering was going on.” Donnie said. He pulled out his phone. “She has seemed to be a shell of herself. Her actions and sudden change in behavior all correlate with signs of…”

“What Donnie?” Raph asked, setting both feet on the floor. Donnie sighed, pushing up his glasses.

“With depression.” The word feel heavy on Raph. He looked away and set a hand on his mouth. He only sat for a second more before he was up and running for the exit.

“Raph!” He skidded to a stop.

“Please don’t stop me, Leo.”

“No, of course not. I just want you to here for you for her.” The oldest gave Raph a smile before Raph nodded. “Now go.” Raph was gone before the last echo dissipated. He ran from the sewers and into the night. He made it to her window and looked in. It was open and he ducked through only to see Y/N sitting on the floor next to it.

“Y/N…” She sat silently with tears streaming down her face. Her hair was a mess and he could see scratches on her arms. Only few were bleeding but his throat constricted when he realized they weren’t accidental. “I’m here, baby. I’m here.” He sat down and wrapped her in his embrace. She immediately latched onto him and he started rocking her. “I know this is going to be hard but I’m here. We all are.”

Donnie:

Although Donnie is a technical genius, he doesn’t always catch on to the not so technical stuff. It took him awhile to see the drastic change in his girl. But the moment he found out with haunt him forever. One, because he didn’t realize his girl was hurt and two, how he found out. He felt useless and horrible when he found out and how also because he had to be pursued to even go see her.

“Donnie! Donnie! Donatello!” Mikey was continuously yelling in the door of his lab. Donnie was growing very annoyed. He finally cracked when Mikey nearly yelled in his ear.

“Okay What?!” He yelled. Mikey just smiled and booped him.

“Where’s Y/N been?” That blindsided him. He looked around.

“She was just here.” He told him. Mikey’s face dropped.

“Yeah, nearly a week ago.” He said. Donnie blanched. “Did you really not notice? She was acting way off last time she was here too. Maybe…you should go see her. Like right now.”

“Yep.” Was all he said before he got up, grabbed his Bo, and was out of the lair. He carefully made his way out of the sewers and across the city to her apartment. He slipped down the fire escape and into her room. As soon as he entered something didn’t feel right.

“Stupid.” He heard a mutter. He set his Bo against the wall and walked toward her conjoined bathroom. The door was cracked and he could hear muttering.

“Y/N, sweetie?” He pushed the door open and froze. Red was dripping down the sink. She didn’t respond to his call. His eyes traced the red trail up and to her arm. His blood froze when he realized it was hers. “Y/N!”

“Donnie!” She screamed and turned toward him. She looked like a deer caught in head lights. Donnie’s eyes traveled down to the cuts that assaulted her arms. His gaze then caught a blade on the counter.

“Y/N, wha, what?” He stuttered into action grabbing a towel and putting pressure on the cuts. She tried to explain but couldn’t. He immediately went into medic mode. He scurried around getting stuff to bandage them. It was utter silence while he did. All Y/N could do is watch him. When he finished, he pulled her into his arms and carried her out into her room.

“Donnie?” He didn’t answer as he set her on her bed. He took off his gear and sat back against her pillows. He pulled her to his chest and buried his face in her neck. He cuddled her softly. He sniffled.

“I’m sorry. So, so sorry. I should have noticed.” He kissed her hair. He felt terrible and Y/N could sense that. A little joy broke through the dark. Someone really did care about her. She looked at her arms before wrapping them around Donnie’s neck.

“Thank you.” Donnie looked up at her and cracked a smile after seeing life back in her eyes. They didn’t dare move, afraid the moment would end all too soon. In his peripheral, Donnie saw three figures on the fire escape. He looked at them. They all were giving him reassuring smiles. He gulped before smiling back and turning back to her.

Mikey:

Mikey is always the brightest in some situations. Even when it comes to his girlfriend. But he is the one that is best in tune with his feelings. So when he finds out, he probably is the best to deal with it. He was going to meet her on her rooftop when he saw her with a broken expression…and a lighter.

“See you later guys! I’m going out to see my Angel!” He yelled as he tucked his Nun chucks into his belt.

“Alright, just be careful. You know the drill.” Donnie said from the kitchen.

“Whhhyyy are you the one telling me that? Normally it’s Leo or Raphie?”

“Leo is meditating and Raph is working out. So my job today.” Mikey shrugged an okay and went for the exit.

“Don’t call me Raphie!” Mikey bolted as he heard Raph yell and a thud on the ground. He laughed as he skated down the tunnels away from the angry red bandana turtle. He made it in record time to the manhole next to Y/N’s building. He looked around before climbing out and climbing up.

“Angel!” he called as he got to the roof. He cocked his head in confusion when he didn’t see. He went back to the edge of the building and looked over to see if her window was open. It was so she had to be on the roof. It was their signal to let him know she was. “Angel.”

“Over here.” He heard a soft voice. He walked around and saw her sitting on an air conditioning unit. She was just sitting there, flipping something in her hand. Suddenly, a flash of a flame came from the object. It was a lighter. Now Mikey could see her face. Twisted, tear-ridden, and broken.

“Y/N?” He let the call hang in the air. She didn’t react much but he saw her start to play with the flame. Moving it in the air and too close for comfort to her skin and holding it there. He sighed and walked forward. He set his board on the ground before sitting down in front her. He gently took the lighter from her.

“Hey.” She half-heartedly reached for it. Mikey grabbed her hand and kissed it.

“No. Not while I’m here. Not while I am alive will you have a chance to do that to yourself. You’ll get through this.” Mikey reached up and set his hand on her face. Her eyes widen and became more watery. “I’ll be here every step of the way. I know you’re hurting, I understand but you will get through this.”

“Mikey!” She yipped before launching herself into his lap. He held her tight. She cried into his neck as he rubbed her back. He was unusually calm but he knew it’s what she needed.

“Mikey, I swear…” Mikey’s hand shot up as Raph came up onto the roof with Donnie and Leo following. They all froze as they saw Y/N sobbing in Mikey’s arms. They all shared a look and silently walked over. They knelt down next to the two.

“You’ll get through this with all of us by your side.” She took a big breath and peeked out through her hair, seeing the boys. She smiled and reached out. Raph took her hand and the other laid theirs on top, reassuring her they were there.

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ewfsdvsd · 3 years

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I think it's fantastic news

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iamjhosel · 3 years

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BAGONG YUGTO. New Chapter. This is Hope SG Filipino's 24th Anniversary theme. And while I just marked my 7th year with Hope this January, and now I am on my journey to 8 years, which is also the number for "new beginnings", I have been asking myself, what does this mean to me personally? What is my Bagong Yugto? "Behold, I am doing a new thing; now it springs forth, do you not perceive it? I will make a way in the wilderness and rivers in the desert." ~Isaiah 43:19 BAGONG YUGTO: A NEW FIRE Early this year, my core team member lost her job and had to go back to the Philippines. And so all the more I had to stretch myself, empower the life group and lean more on His leading - not mine but by His Spirit. This is still a work in progress but I claim new wineskin, new core team members, who would be on fire for God, and then eventually as we enlarge ourselves, fruitfulness will follow.

I pray that God continue to work in us, individually and as a life group, so that all the more we can experience how good, how loving and how faithful our God is! In the same way, the Lord has been stretching us in the ministry for the past year amidst this pandemic. He has done great things in the ministry and in how He is using social media as His platform. Day by day, we are learning and exploring new things on how we can make Him known all over the globe with this ministry He has blessed us with. I am just blessed and humbled to serve Him with all my heart, mind and soul, both in the ministry and in the life group. He is my fire! And all these is by Him and for Him! BAGONG YUGTO: A NEW PERSPECTIVE The past few weeks before the conference, I've been thinking a lot. I've been asking God what's His plan for my life. What's next for me? Should I move to the States too, when one by one my ward friends are leaving for US and a family friend's actually offering to help me should I decide to move. Besides, US was the original plan. Singapore was supposed to be just a detour. Almost 10 years after, I am still here. Plus that infamous question: Will I ever have my own family too? So, I was really praying that in the conference, I will receive a word from God or a clear direction where He wants me to go. The answer came fast. On the first day during worship, I heard it loud and clear:

And all throughout the conference, I was just reminded over and over again. God is faithful, so be faithful. Keep sowing. Keep planting. Keep reaching out. Keep loving. And He will take care of the rest. Besides, He never told me to move. It was just me. You see, comparison triggers jealousy and so never compare your life to others because God has His own story for you and me. Look unto Jesus. Fix your gaze and thoughts upon Him. “Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothes? Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they? Can any one of you by worrying add a single hour to your life? “And why do you worry about clothes? See how the flowers of the field grow. They do not labor or spin. Yet I tell you that not even Solomon in all his splendor was dressed like one of these. If that is how God clothes the grass of the field, which is here today and tomorrow is thrown into the fire, will he not much more clothe you—you of little faith? So do not worry, saying, ‘What shall we eat?’ or ‘What shall we drink?’ or ‘What shall we wear?’ For the pagans run after all these things, and your heavenly Father knows that you need them. But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well. Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own." ~Matthew 6:25-34 BAGONG YUGTO: A NEW HEART The first half of the year has been very painful for our family. I praise God that He has blessed me with a very loving and closely knitted family, and so the sudden loss of two of my Uncles in Papa's side, both I am close with, has left us bewildered, broken and very hurt. Early in April, Tito Erick, Papa's youngest brother, was hospitalized for COVID. In just a few days, he was transferred to the ICU because his oxygen level wasn't picking up and his biomarkers were all deranged. His wife, Tita Mitch, was then quarantined on another facility. Everyday we would all do video calls to check on Tita Mitch and get updates on Tito Erick. We would always encourage everyone in the family to keep on pressing on in prayer and keep believing that these too shall pass. That we've been through so much in the family before and we would be able to withstand all of these. I knew that God is a good God and He will never forsake us. I was anticipating that this will be our family's testimony of healing. But then one night, as if in a movie, there was a plot twist. Uncle Ahwee, Tita Shei's husband had a heart attack. He was pronounced dead on arrival. We were dumbfounded. I couldn't understand why all of these is happening, all together, at the same time. It felt like a dejavu. It felt like we were in 2014 all over again when Papa had an accident and he needed to go for a surgery and the next day Lolo Ama, Papa's father, passed away because of cancer. I questioned God why do our family had to experience all these pain again. Did I not pray enough for Him to hear my prayers? There were so many thoughts running on my head but we had to press on for Tito Erick. To still believe and keep praying that he will be healed. We kept Uncle Awhee's passing from Tito Erick. We even blocked him on Facebook so he won't see any post on Uncle Awhee's sudden death. During Uncle Awhee's wake, we were just amazed on how God poured out His love and provision through the help of the many people who loved Uncle Ahwee. Tito Erick's condition then was getting better. He regained some strength, enough to reply to us in our family's group chat. Every morning he would send some selfies to us to let us know that he is getting better. He found out about Uncle Awhee's passing when he saw a post from his high school batch mate but thank God during that time he was already able to take all the news in.

He then had a reswab and we were hoping that if it turned out to be negative, he will be transferred to a regular room. But the next day before dawn, on Lolo Ama's birthday, Tito Erick's oxygen levels dropped which then required him to be intubated. After two hours of being in critical condition, his heart stopped beating. The doctors tried to revive him but to no avail. It was so painful seeing his body lifeless through a video call. The whole day we were on iyak-tulala-iyak-tulala mode. We were so devastated. It felt like the enemy knew exactly where to attack me, that it found my Achilles heel, and it is succeeding. I already had thoughts of giving up and turning away from serving Him. He must have been punishing me for not being bold enough to do more for Him. But then I never heard my family questioned God. Yes, they couldn't understand why all these are happening, but they never once turned away from God. I thought I have the strongest faith, but theirs were stronger. God is still good, because despite of all what happened, He has made everyone in the family stronger in faith. He has reminded us how He has blessed us with a family that is so full of love, and that we are loved not just by Him but by the people that He has surrounded us with. I praise God for my spiritual family, ministry and friends who have helped me to stand when I couldn't, reminded me that I am not alone, and that God sees our pain and He is the only one who can turn it to joy. This wasn't the testimony I was hoping to share but God's thoughts are higher than mine. He has a different healing testimony He wanted me to share, not just for me, but for the whole family. Healing does not come in an instant. And until now, we are all still healing, slowly, taking it day by day. There are days that I still find myself dazed as if everything was just a dream. And same goes for them in the Philippines, in and out of loneliness and what ifs. But praise God we have each other to constantly remind ourselves that God is a good God and in Him, our broken hearts can be made whole again. As God promised in Revelations 21:5, "Behold, I make all things new," He is giving us a new heart. He is renewing our spirits day by day. He is making us lean more on Him, trust Him that all these are for our good, and draw closer and closer unto Him. He is our refuge and strength. At the end of day, He is a sovereign God. I may not have control on everything but He has. And He has me and my family on the palm of His hands. Here's a spontaneous song when I was pouring and crying myself out to God. It is only in His presence that we can find healing.

THERE IS MORE. Every year, I would always have a bible verse declaration for myself and just before 2021 entered, instead of a verse, He gave me a whole chapter, Ezekiel 47. And it dawned on me, how it is unfolding before my eyes, that all these things that has happened on the first half of the year is teaching me and molding me to lean more and more on Him so I could go deeper and deeper into my relationship with Him. I look forward that after everything, I will receive my inheritance! That all these is for my good and a preparation for what is ahead. This is a beginning of a new chapter of my life and my walk with Him! What a great and loving God He is and I will forever praise Him with my life! Oh praise and glory be upon Him, the King of kings, Lord of lords, Lover of my Soul, my Lord and Saviour, Jesus! "As the man went eastward with a measuring line in his hand, he measured off a thousand cubits and then led me through water that was ankle-deep. He measured off another thousand cubits and led me through water that was knee-deep. He measured off another thousand and led me through water that was up to the waist. He measured off another thousand, but now it was a river that I could not cross, because the water had risen and was deep enough to swim in—a river that no one could cross. He asked me, “Son of man, do you see this?” "Then He led me back to the bank of the river. When I arrived there, I saw a great number of trees on each side of the river. He said to me, “This water flows toward the eastern region and goes down into the Arabah, where it enters the Dead Sea. When it empties into the sea, the salty water there becomes fresh. Swarms of living creatures will live wherever the river flows. There will be large numbers of fish, because this water flows there and makes the salt water fresh; so where the river flows everything will live. Fishermen will stand along the shore; from En Gedi to En Eglaim there will be places for spreading nets. The fish will be of many kinds—like the fish of the Mediterranean Sea. But the swamps and marshes will not become fresh; they will be left for salt. Fruit trees of all kinds will grow on both banks of the river. Their leaves will not wither, nor will their fruit fail. Every month they will bear fruit, because the water from the sanctuary flows to them. Their fruit will serve for food and their leaves for healing.” ~Ezekiel 47:3-12

#bagongyugto #newbeginnings #healing #newheart #newfire #new perspective

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tswiftdaily · 4 years

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In the 2010s, she went from country superstar to pop titan and broke records with chart-topping albums and blockbuster tours. Now Swift is using her industry clout to fight for artists’ rights and foster the musical community she wished she had coming up.

One evening in late-October, before she performed at a benefit concert at the Hollywood Bowl in Los Angeles, Taylor Swift’s dressing room became -- as it often does -- an impromptu summit of music’s biggest names. Swift was there to take part in the American Cancer Society’s annual We Can Survive concert alongside Billie Eilish, Lizzo, Camila Cabello and others, and a few of the artists on the lineup came by to visit.

Eilish, along with her mother and her brother/collaborator, Finneas O’Connell, popped in to say hello -- the first time she and Swift had met. Later, Swift joined the exclusive club of people who have seen Marshmello without his signature helmet when the EDM star and his manager stopped by.

“Two dudes walked in -- I didn’t know which one was him,” recalls Swift a few weeks later, sitting on a lounge chair in the backyard of a private Beverly Hills residence following a photo shoot. Her momentary confusion turned into a pang of envy. “It’s really smart! Because he’s got a life, and he can get a house that doesn’t have to have a paparazzi-proof entrance.” She stops to adjust her gray sweatshirt dress and lets out a clipped laugh.

Swift, who will celebrate her 30th birthday on Dec. 13, has been impossibly famous for nearly half of her lifetime. She was 16 when she released her self-titled debut album in 2006, and 20 when her second album, Fearless, won the Grammy Award for album of the year in 2010, making her the youngest artist to ever receive the honor. As the decade comes to a close, Swift is one of the most accomplished musical acts of all time: 37.3 million albums sold, according to Nielsen Music; 95 entries on the Billboard Hot 100 (including five No. 1s); 23 Billboard Music Awards; 12 Country Music Association Awards; 10 Grammys; and five world tours.

She also finishes the decade in a totally different realm of the music world from where she started. Swift’s crossover from country to pop -- hinted at on 2012’s Red and fully embraced on 2014’s 1989 -- reflected a mainstream era in which genres were blended with little abandon, where artists with roots in country, folk and trap music could join forces without anyone raising eyebrows. (See: Swift’s top 20 hit “End Game,” from 2017’s reputation, which featured Ed Sheeran and Future.)

Swift’s new album, Lover, released in August, is both a warm break from the darkness of reputation -- which was created during a wave of negative press generated by Swift’s public clash with Kanye West and Kim Kardashian-West -- as well as an amalgam of all her stylistic explorations through the years, from dreamy synth-pop to hushed country. “The skies were opening up in my life,” says Swift of the album, which garnered three Grammy nominations, including song of the year for the title track.

She recorded Lover after the Reputation Stadium Tour broke the record for the highest-grossing U.S. tour late last year. In 2020, Swift will embark on Lover Fest, a run of stadium dates that will feature a hand-picked lineup of artists (as yet unannounced) and allow Swift more time off from the road. “This is a year where I have to be there for my family -- there’s a lot of question marks throughout the next year, so I wanted to make sure that I could go home,” says Swift, likely referencing her mother’s cancer diagnosis, which inspired the Lover heart-wrencher “Soon You’ll Get Better.”

Now, however, Swift finds herself in a different highly publicized dispute. This time it’s with Scott Borchetta, the head of her former label, Big Machine Records, and Scooter Braun, the manager-mogul whose Ithaca Holdings acquired Big Machine Label Group and its master recordings, which include Swift’s six pre-Lover albums, in June. Upon news of the sale, Swift wrote in a Tumblr post that it was her “worst case scenario,” accusing Braun of “bullying” her throughout her career due to his connections with West. She maintains today that she was never given the opportunity to buy her masters outright. (On Tumblr, she wrote that she was offered the chance to “earn” back the masters to one of her albums for each new album she turned in if she re-signed with Big Machine; Borchetta disputed this characterization, saying she had the opportunity to acquire her masters in exchange for re-signing with the label for a “length of time” -- 10 more years, according to screenshots of legal documents posted on the Big Machine website.)

Swift has said that she intends to rerecord her first six albums next year -- starting next November, when she says she’s contractually able to -- in order to regain control of her recordings. But the back-and-forth appears to be nowhere near over: Last month, Swift alleged that Borchetta and Braun were blocking her from performing her past hits at the American Music Awards or using them in an upcoming Netflix documentary -- claims Big Machine characterized as “false information” in a response that did not get into specifics. (Swift ultimately performed the medley she had planned.) In the weeks following this interview, Braun said he was open to “all possibilities” in finding a “resolution,” and Billboard sources say that includes negotiating a sale. Swift remains interested in buying her masters, though the price could be a sticking point, given her rerecording plans, the control she has over the licensing of her music for film and TV, and the market growth since Braun’s acquisition.

However it plays out, the battle over her masters is the latest in a series of moves that has turned Swift into something of an advocate for artists’ rights -- and made her a cause that everyone from Halsey to Elizabeth Warren has rallied behind. From 2014 to 2017, Swift withheld her catalog from Spotify to protest the streaming company’s compensation rates, saying in a 2014 interview, “There should be an inherent value placed on art. I didn’t see that happening, perception-wise, when I put my music on Spotify.” In 2015, ahead of the launch of Apple Music, Swift wrote an open letter criticizing Apple for its plan to not pay royalties during the three-month free trial it was set to offer listeners; the company announced a new policy within 24 hours. Most recently, when she signed a new global deal with Universal Music Group in 2018, Swift (who is now on Republic Records) said one of the conditions of her contract was that UMG share proceeds from any sale of its Spotify equity with its roster of artists -- and make them nonrecoupable against those artists’ earnings.

During a wide-ranging conversation, Billboard’s Woman of the Decade expresses hope that she can help make the lives of creators a little easier in the years to come -- and a belief that her behind-the-scenes strides will be as integral to her legacy as her biggest singles. “New artists and producers and writers need work, and they need to be likable and get booked in sessions, and they can’t make noise -- but if I can, then I’m going to,” promises Swift. This is where being impossibly famous can be a very good thing. “I know that it seems like I’m very loud about this,” she says, “but it’s because someone has to be.”

While watching some of your performances this year -- like Saturday Night Live and NPR’s Tiny Desk Concert -- I was struck by how focused you seemed, like there were no distractions getting in the way of what you were trying to say.

That’s a really wonderful way of looking at this phase of my life and my music. I’ve spent a lot of time recalibrating my life to make it feel manageable. Because there were some years there where I felt like I didn’t quite know what exactly to give people and what to hold back, what to share and what to protect. I think a lot of people go through that, especially in the last decade. I broke through pre-social media, and then there was this phase where social media felt fun and casual and quirky and safe. And then it got to the point where everyone has to evaluate their relationship with social media. So I decided that the best thing I have to offer people is my music. I’m not really here to influence their fashion or their social lives. That has bled through into the live part of what I do.

Meanwhile, you’ve found a way to interact with your fans in this very pure way -- on your Tumblr page.

Tumblr is the last place on the internet where I feel like I can still make a joke because it feels small, like a neighborhood rather than an entire continent. We can kid around -- they literally drag me. It’s fun. That’s a real comfort zone for me. And just like anything else, I need breaks from it sometimes. But when I do participate in that space, it’s always in a very inside-joke, friend vibe. Sometimes, when I open Twitter, I get so overwhelmed that I just immediately close it. I haven’t had Twitter on my phone in a while because I don’t like to have too much news. Like, I follow politics, and that’s it. But I don’t like to follow who has broken up with who, or who wore an interesting pair of shoes. There’s only so much bandwidth my brain can really have.

It’s sort of an amalgamation of all of it. People who aren’t active fans of your music, who like one song but love to hear who has been canceled on Twitter. I’ve had several upheavals of somehow not being what I should be. And this happens to women in music way more than men. That’s why I get so many phone calls from new artists out of the blue -- like, “Hey, I’m getting my first wave of bad press, I’m freaking out, can I talk to you?” And the answer is always yes! I’m talking about more than 20 people who have randomly reached out to me. I take it as a compliment because it means that they see what has happened over the course of my career, over and over again.

Did you have someone like that to reach out to?

Not really, because my career has existed in lots of different neighborhoods of music. I had so many mentors in country music. Faith Hill was wonderful. She would reach out to me and invite me over and take me on tour, and I knew that I could talk to her. Crossing over to pop is a completely different world. Country music is a real community, and in pop I didn’t see that community as much. Now there is a bit of one between the girls in pop -- we all have each other’s numbers and text each other -- but when I first started out in pop it was very much you versus you versus you. We didn’t have a network, which is weird because we can help each other through these moments when you just feel completely isolated.

Do you feel like those barriers are actively being broken down now?

God, I hope so. I also hope people can call it out, [like] if you see a Grammy prediction article, and it’s just two women’s faces next to each other and feels a bit gratuitous. No one’s going to start out being perfectly educated on the intricacies of gender politics. The key is that people are trying to learn, and that’s great. No one’s going to get it perfect, but, God, please try.

At this point, who is your sounding board, creatively and professionally?

From a creative standpoint, I’ve been writing alone a lot more. I’m good with being alone, with thinking alone. When I come up with a marketing idea for the Lover tour, the album launch, the merch, I’ll go right to my management company that I’ve put together. I think a team is the best way to be managed. Just from my experience, I don’t think that this overarching, one-person-handles-my-career thing was ever going to work for me. Because that person ends up kind of being me who comes up with most of the ideas, and then I have an amazing team that facilitates those ideas.

The behind-the-scenes work is different for every phase of my career that I’m in. Putting together the festival shows that we’re doing for Lover is completely different than putting together the Reputation Stadium Tour. Putting together the reputation launch was so different than putting together the 1989 launch. So we really do attack things case by case, where the creative first informs everything else.

You’ve spoken before about how meaningful the reputation tour’s success was. What did it represent?

That tour was something that I wanted to immortalize in the Netflix special that we did because the album was a story, but it almost was like a story that wasn’t fully realized until you saw it live. It was so cool to hear people leaving the show being like, “I understand it now. I fully get it now.” There are a lot of red herrings and bait-and-switches in the choices that I’ll make with albums, because I want people to go and explore the body of work. You can never express how you feel over the course of an album in a single, so why try?

That seems especially true of your last three albums or so.

“Shake It Off” is nothing like the rest of 1989. It’s almost like I feel so much pressure with a first single that I don’t want the first single to be something that makes you feel like you’ve figured out what I’ve made on the rest of the project. I still truly believe in albums, whatever form you consume them in -- if you want to stream them or buy them or listen to them on vinyl. And I don’t think that makes me a staunch purist. I think that that is a strong feeling throughout the music industry. We’re running really fast toward a singles industry, but you got to believe in something. I still believe that albums are important.

The music industry has become increasingly global during the past decade. Is reaching new markets something you think about?

Yeah, and I’m always trying to learn. I’m learning from everyone. I’m learning when I go see Bruce Springsteen or Madonna do a theater show. And I’m learning from new artists who are coming out right now, just seeing what they’re doing and thinking, “That’s really cool.” You need to keep your influences broad and wide-ranging, and my favorite people who make music have always done that. I got to work with Andrew Lloyd Webber on the Cats movie, and Andrew will walk through the door and be like, “I’ve just seen this amazing thing on TikTok!” And I’m like, “You are it! You are it!” Because you cannot look at what quote-unquote “the kids are doing” and roll your eyes. You have to learn.

Have you explored TikTok at all?

I only see them when they’re posted to Tumblr, but I love them! I think that they’re hilarious and amazing. Andrew says that they’ve made musicals cool again, because there’s a huge musical facet to TikTok. [He’s] like, “Any way we can do that is good.”

How do you see your involvement in the business side of your career progressing in the next decade? You seem like someone who could eventually start a label or be more hands-on with signing artists.

I do think about it every once in a while, but if I was going to do it, I would need to do it with all of my energy. I know how important that is, when you’ve got someone else’s career in your hands, and I know how it feels when someone isn’t generous.

You’ve served as an ambassador of sorts for artists, especially recently -- staring down streaming services over payouts, increasing public awareness about the terms of record deals.

We have a long way to go. I think that we’re working off of an antiquated contractual system. We’re galloping toward a new industry but not thinking about recalibrating financial structures and compensation rates, taking care of producers and writers.

We need to think about how we handle master recordings, because this isn’t it. When I stood up and talked about this, I saw a lot of fans saying, “Wait, the creators of this work do not own their work, ever?” I spent 10 years of my life trying rigorously to purchase my masters outright and was then denied that opportunity, and I just don’t want that to happen to another artist if I can help it. I want to at least raise my hand and say, “This is something that an artist should be able to earn back over the course of their deal -- not as a renegotiation ploy -- and something that artists should maybe have the first right of refusal to buy.” God, I would have paid so much for them! Anything to own my work that was an actual sale option, but it wasn’t given to me.

Thankfully, there’s power in writing your music. Every week, we get a dozen synch requests to use “Shake It Off” in some advertisement or “Blank Space” in some movie trailer, and we say no to every single one of them. And the reason I’m rerecording my music next year is because I do want my music to live on. I do want it to be in movies, I do want it to be in commercials. But I only want that if I own it.

Do you know how long that rerecording process will take?

I don’t know! But it’s going to be fun, because it’ll feel like regaining a freedom and taking back what’s mine. When I created [these songs], I didn’t know what they would grow up to be. Going back in and knowing that it meant something to people is actually a really beautiful way to celebrate what the fans have done for my music.

Ten years ago, on the brink of the 2010s, you were about to turn 20. What advice would you give yourself if you could go back in time?

Oh, God -- I wouldn’t give myself any advice. I would have done everything exactly the same way. Because even the really tough things I’ve gone through taught me things that I never would have learned any other way. I really appreciate my experience, the ups and downs. And maybe that seems ridiculously Zen, but … I’ve got my friends, who like me for the right reasons. I’ve got my family. I’ve got my boyfriend. I’ve got my fans. I’ve got my cats.

#taylor swift #interview #billboard #women in music #woman of the decade

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howwelldoyouknowyourmoon · 3 years

Text

Blessed Child podcast by Renrobot. Welcome and BITE model parts 1 and 2.

https://anchor.fm/blessed-child2/episodes/Welcome-to-Blessed-Child-Podcast-e10c8o8

May 6 Welcome to the ‘Blessed Child’ podcast (one minute) Our agenda on ‘Blessed Child’ is to deconstruct, learn helpful language, navigate the present moment and heal ourselves and our relationships with others. Let’s dive deep! If you would like to be on this Podcast, just message Renrobot 🖤 All custom Artwork created by Renrobot.art on Instagram and Facebook

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https://anchor.fm/blessed-child2/episodes/Behavior-control-explained-e102nsg

May 2

Behavior Control explained! (31:42)Listen here for a deconstruction of high control groups with Renrobot using Steve Hassan’s BITE model on authoritarian control. This is a live recording from Instagram live so there are comments made from other survivors throughout the episode. To join these lives find Renrobot.art on Instagram. We are dissecting Behavior Control first.

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https://anchor.fm/blessed-child2/episodes/Information-control--Bite-model-with-Jen-Kiaba-e10a5t0

May 5 Information control – The ‘BITE model’ with Jen Kiaba (61:23) Jen Kiaba is an award winning and nationally recognized artist who joined Renrobot in deconstructing “Information Control” in the Unification Church. Using the BITE model, this episode is laced with rich stories and useful information. Renrobot edited the Instagram live to insert a little more information to help members understand the factors that created the UC reality. You can find Jen Kiaba on Instagram and Facebook as Jen Kiaba. Enjoy!

Some additional information: In 1959 Miss Young-oon Kim and David SC Kim came to the US. Bo Hi Pak arrived in 1961. In 1965 Papasan Sang-Ik Choi came to the US after he was deported from Japan. He arrived in the US with Rev Moon for his first world tour. That spring, in Bo Hi Pak’s house, Rev Moon got Annie Choi pregnant. She was the daughter of one of the richest men in Korea. Rev Moon had sex with Annie for several months, and he only left the US when he was sure she was pregnant. Sam Park was born in January 1966 in Washington, DC, and was hidden in Pak’s family.

That information was kept controlled for decades.

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Here is a transcript of a short section. It has been lightly edited and updated.

11:00 “My step-mother told me that people were selling candles. Fourteen members of the newly formed permanent MFT arrived in Philadelphia to begin four months of candle selling. This team composed largely of the former Belvedere project team mobile team, including five from the Berkeley center. [Rev Moon’s Belvedere mansion was mainly purchased with money earned by members selling church manufactured candles.] This new team were to sell candles for eight hours a day for five days a week to achieve their goal of achieving $18,500 each month. My step-mother told me that, during this candle selling adventure, the leader was driving in the middle of the night and he pressed on the brakes. The candles were stacked up above two sleeping members in the back of the van. The boxes were extremely heavy and they fell on to the sleeping members below, breaking the backs of two of them. One member was paralysed. (It is believed the other left the organization.) So these are the kind of stories that are not told often, but they are important to tell. MFT was always dangerous and the members were always treated with disrespect and with no care for safety. As long as money was made, it did not matter who died. I think it is important to tell these stories because if we tell them, we can start seeing the pattern. Many MFT members died; many members were injured. The MFT efforts continued without the acknowledgement of the dangers involved. The use of members just continued.

I don’t think Jesus would do this. Would Jesus have members die to sell candles? Absolutely not. What would Rev Moon do? He would say it was spiritual providence that Satan claimed them for the progress of the providence of restoration. This is a gaslighting and a narcissistic technique to change people’s memories of what really happened. It is called euphoric recall. You want to remember the good things and not the bad things. But the bad things are actually fact, and they are things that need to be accurately remembered so what is happening now can be changed. …

These members on MFT were not paid, did not have health insurance and had no social security benefits. This is labor trafficking. This is the definition of labor trafficking. They were gaslit to believe this was missionary work… My step-mother was on MFT and was labor trafficked for seven years and has absolutely nothing to show for it.”

UPDATE The two members in the candle selling MFT accident suffered from broken backs – one was paralyzed. It is believed the other left the organization.

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Blessed Child podcast by Renrobot. The BITE model parts 3 and 4, and a story from Africa.

The BITE model developed by Steven Hassan, PhD.

Robert Jay Lifton’s Eight Conditions of Thought Reform (1963)

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March 24, 2021

Ares Meyer podcast

Tattoo Artist Join me in conversation with tattoo artist Ren Robot as we talk Art, The Unification Church, Summer Camp and so much more!

https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/tattoo-artist/id1549515902?i=1000514164666

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The Spectrum of Influence

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Boonville’s Japanese origins Papasan Choi moved to the Bay Area in November 1965.

CONTROLLED INFORMATION:

Pak Chung-hwa interviewed about Moon’s “SEX relays”

Moon’s first wife, Choi Seon-gil, and Kim Deok-jin interviewed

The six ‘wives’ of Sun Myung Moon

Hak Ja Han’s mother ansu beat an 18 year-old boy to death to get rid of evil spirits

Sun Myung Moon’s secret love child – Mother Jones

Sam Park, Moon’s secret son, reveals hidden history (2014)

Sam Park responds to feedback from his 2014 presentation

A huge Moon Church scam in Japan is revealed

Black Heung Jin Nim – Violence in the Moon church

Sun Myung Moon used a ‘Honey Trap’ – Choi Soon-yeong explains

Nansook Hong: In The Shadow Of The Moons book

The Fall of the House of Moon – New Republic

The Tragedy of the Six Marys website

Cult Indoctrination – and the Road to Recovery

Chung-hwa Pak did not write “I am a Traitor” (It was ghost written and published by the UC of Japan.)

#Renrobot #BITE model #Moonies #Unification Church #Sun Myung Moon #Hak Ja Han #Cheongpyeong #undue influence

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achaoticeternal · 4 years

Text

Grow As We Go

STEVE ROGERS X READER

sequel to the weight of words masterlist // taglist

Summary: After a mission directly impacts Steve, you help him pick up the pieces of himself. Being broken doesn’t mean you have to fix each other, just grow together. Word Count: 1.7k A/N: I got so many requests and asks to do a part 2 so here it is!!! Italics indicate earlier events or memories :) Warnings: Cursing, Angst, Steve crying

The communication between Steve and yourself remained just as cold and silent as the first night without him asleep by your side. He missed your warmth. He missed your good morning kisses. He missed making breakfast together. He missed the wedding planning. He missed your movie night. Steve missed you.

And you would be lying if you said you didn’t miss him just as much. Both of you had been close, ever since he saved you during the HYDRA takedown in 2014. You both had become so intertwined in each other’s life that both of you felt a piece of you was now missing.

But neither of you could admit that. Neither of you seemed to be able to swallow your pride and apologize or even attempt to speak to one another. And the team noticed.

They noticed how you both threw longing glances at each other from across the dinner table or across the gym. They saw how these past two weeks were tearing the two of you apart. And since Steve had suspended you, this dilemma luckily didn’t impact any missions for now. But you had two days before you were technically clear to return to agent training and mission involvement.

You were relaxing in your room which was a strange feeling without either Steve being around, or with you not spending the night in the Captain’s quarters. It never made sense why he kept your relationship so quiet but still insisted on you staying in with him or holding you just a little to close to be seen as friends in front of the team. But that’s just how Steve was, at least for you. Everything either made perfect sense with him, or it didn’t. He seemed to live life like it was black and white, while you saw the world in shades of grey.

Currently, you typed away on your laptop while sitting on the bar stools in the kitchen, dinner in front of you. It wasn’t anything too much, just a salad with some light dressing. If the others were around then maybe you’d all be enjoying a meal together. But everyone was out on a team mission, except for you.

“We need her on this mission, Rogers. She’s just as good as Natasha and we can get the intel twice as fast with two agents in the computers,” Tony testified for you.

“Absolutely not,” Steve spoke up, shaking his head as he gripped the back of his chair, “She made a choice not to obey orders, she has to face consequences. It’s the same for any other-”

“Cut the shit, Cap,” Tony cut him off, “I know that you love her, that you care for her, that you would do anything for her. I was so happy for you when you told Pepper and me that you were going to propose. Because you would finally get a taste of life outside of this job, something the pair of you desperately need. But she’s not your perfect little housewife, Steve. She’s been through the same shit as you and Barnes. You’ve got to accept who she is and why she chooses to do things. Benching her like a child instead of treating her with the respect she deserves not only hurt the team, but it’s taken a toll on your relationship... Just think about it.”

You overheard them speaking about the upcoming mission which they had left for yesterday around ten in the morning. They were supposed to be home by seven this evening, but that was two hours ago. It wasn’t unusual for a mission to run a little longer or the quinjet to be delayed, but that didn’t stop your concern for your friends and for Steve.

“Mrs. (Y/N), the quinjet will be landing within the next 10 minutes, will you be meeting the team on the airstrip or within the compound?” F.R.I.D.A.Y’s voice echoed into the kitchen.

A weird feeling in your gut told you it would be better if you met them sooner rather than later, “On the airstrip. I’ll make my way there now, but don’t alert the team.”

- - -

You stood with members of the air division in the hanger for the quinjet. The door lowered itself to reveal the team, your friends, all a little roughed up. But it seemed that Bucky received the worst of it, you knew his girl from the medical division wouldn’t be happy to see this. Bucky seemed to be tripping in and out of consciousness as Steve and Sam held him up. Together, they escorted him to a medical team waiting with Dr. Banner.

Wanda and Tony met you, also watching the men offering any assistance they could provide, “What the hell happened?”

“We met another enhanced individual who seems to be able to put men in a dream-like state. She was able to knock out Steve, Barnes, and Lang. Wanda here was able to stop her though,” Tony explained the situation.

“It easily could have been avoided though, there were warning signs all over the place,” Wanda shook her head, “It’s unlike Steve to be so... out of it. (Y/N), you know him the best. You need to check on him.”

“Wanda, you know he’s just going to push me away. I can’t risk an exten-”

“We found him crying, (Y/N)” Tony interrupted you, “He was calling out your name. I haven’t seen him cry like that since the passing of Agent Carter.”

Wanda took your hand into her and gave you a worried look, “You may be on shaky terms, but he needs assurance from you about whatever he dealt with in his little nightmare.”

- - -

When you finally saw Steve alone, it was 1 a.m in the study. He sat on the leather couch, staring out a window completely lost in thought. You wondered if it was a good time to approach him but from your understanding of Steve. there was never a good moment to really help him through his grief. You just had too.

“Steven,” you called out to him as you stopped in front of the couch, “May I take a seat?”

“Agent now is not the time to be asking about the condition of your suspension. I’ll gladly speak about it with you in my office tomorrow morning-”

“I’m not looking to talk about my suspension from the field with Captain Rogers. I’m here to have a conversation with Steven Grant Rogers, the man that I deeply care for.”

He broke his gaze from the window to look up into your eyes. Pain and guilt tore through him, all was evident in the blue of his eyes. HE could never hide anything from you.

“(Y/N),” your name rolled off his perfect tongue like a prayer.

You took a seat next to him, pulling your legs up onto the couch. You kept your eye contact with him, asking for permission. Once you knew you had it, you climbed on top of his lap and wrapped your arms around his shoulders. You proceded to pull his head down to rest in the crook of your next. You felt his breathing falter slightly as hot tears landed on the skin of your neck. He wrapped his arms around you and tugged you closer like he could never be close enough to you.

“Shh, I’m here, Steve. I’m ready to talk whenever you are,” You gently ran your fingers through his hair, “Deep breaths, my love. You’re here, you’re at home with me and nothing can hurt you.”

He lifts his to look into your eyes with his own slightly red eyes and tear-stained cheeks, “But I hurt you.”

You raised your sleeve covered hand to wipe away the tears as they fell from his beautiful blue eyes, “And we can work through that. But first, I need you to tell me what happened on the mission. You know that it helps to get it off your chest. We only do what?”

“We only talk through one issue at a time.”

“That’s right, my love. That’s how we earn to accept and heal ourselves. Take a few breathes and start whenever you're ready.”

His breathing was a shallow, but it helped to still his chest, “I knew it was fake, but it- it felt real, (Y/N). You went back to HYDRA, you exposed me, you exposed the team. You called me your mission. Not your friend, not your lover, not even your fiancee. But I wasn’t mad or angry with you. I was livid with myself for pushing you away, forcing you to return to evil because I made you think of yourself as evil when I know how good your heart it.”

“Steve, HYDRA is almost completely decimated. I could never betray our friends, our family, or you.”

“I know. I trust you, completely. I just- I don’t trust my own heart after everything with Peggy.”

You pressed a soft kiss to his forehead, “Then trust me with your heart. Don’t try and cage me or your emotions. We can grow past this together.”

“(Y/N), I’m sorry,” He takes your hands in his large ones, “For all of it. The suspension, the fight, the distrust, my reaction, the pain I’ve caused, my stupid expectation for you to just take orders like a soldier. The only other woman to push my buttons and pull me through all the shit thrown at me was Peggy. I never would have made it through the war without her, and it can’t make it through this modern world without you. If you still love me, please, let’s move past all of this. Let’s get married, go on a honeymoon anywhere you want, try to start living a life outside of all of this, and- and grow old together.”

At this point, both of you were sobbing, but smiling at each other through the river of tears. You pushed your lips against him and responded quickly with just the same amount of passion. This was love. Broken, defeated, and tired; but still true, human love.

“That sounds like the perfect life, Steve. Let’s do it, together, Mr. Rogers.”

“Together, Mrs. Rogers.”

- - -

TAGLIST:

@melannie77 @heyiamthatbitch @princess-evans-addict @elsasshole @givemebooksorgivemedeath @anhelz @underratedmisfit

#mattie writes #Steve Rogers #captain america #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers angst #steve rogers x y/n #captain america x reader #captain america imagine #chris evans x reader #chris evans #chris evans imagine #marvel #marvel imagine #marvel x reader #marvel one shot #Avengers #avengers x reader

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path-of-my-childhood · 4 years

Text

Billboard Woman of the Decade Taylor Swift: 'I Do Want My Music to Live On'

By: Jason Lipshutz for Billboard Magazine Date: December 14th issue

One evening in late October, before she performed at a benefit concert at the Hollywood Bowl in Los Angeles, Taylor Swift’s dressing room became - as it often does - an impromptu summit of music’s biggest names. Swift was there to take part in the American Cancer Society’s annual We Can Survive concert alongside Billie Eilish, Lizzo, Camila Cabello and others, and a few of the artists on the lineup came by to visit.

Eilish, along with her mother and her brother/collaborator, Finneas O’Connell, popped in to say hello - the first time she and Swift had met. Later, Swift joined the exclusive club of people who have seen Marshmello without his signature helmet when the EDM star and his manager stopped by.

“Two dudes walked in - I didn’t know which one was him,” recalls Swift a few weeks later, sitting on a lounge chair in the backyard of a private Beverly Hills residence following a photo shoot. Her momentary confusion turned into a pang of envy. “It’s really smart! Because he’s got a life, and he can get a house that doesn’t have to have a paparazzi-proof entrance.” She stops to adjust her gray sweatshirt dress and lets out a clipped laugh.

She also finishes the decade in a totally different realm of the music world from where she started. Swift’s crossover from country to pop - hinted at on 2012’s Red and fully embraced on 2014’s 1989 - reflected a mainstream era in which genres were blended with little abandon, where artists with roots in country, folk and trap music could join forces without anyone raising eyebrows. (See: Swift’s top 20 hit “End Game,” from 2017’s reputation, which featured Ed Sheeran and Future.)

Swift’s new album, Lover, released in August, is both a warm break from the darkness of reputation - which was created during a wave of negative press generated by Swift’s public clash with Kanye West and Kim Kardashian-West - as well as an amalgam of all her stylistic explorations through the years, from dreamy synth-pop to hushed country. “The skies were opening up in my life,” says Swift of the album, which garnered three Grammy nominations, including song of the year for the title track.

She recorded Lover after the Reputation Stadium Tour broke the record for the highest-grossing U.S. tour late last year. In 2020, Swift will embark on Lover Fest, a run of stadium dates that will feature a hand-picked lineup of artists (as yet unannounced) and allow Swift more time off from the road. “This is a year where I have to be there for my family - there’s a lot of question marks throughout the next year, so I wanted to make sure that I could go home,” says Swift, likely referencing her mother’s cancer diagnosis, which inspired the Lover heart-wrencher “Soon You’ll Get Better.”

Now, however, Swift finds herself in a different highly publicized dispute. This time it’s with Scott Borchetta, the head of her former label, Big Machine Records, and Scooter Braun, the manager-mogul whose Ithaca Holdings acquired Big Machine Label Group and its master recordings, which include Swift’s six pre-Lover albums, in June. Upon news of the sale, Swift wrote in a Tumblr post that it was her “worst case scenario,” accusing Braun of “bullying” her throughout her career due to his connections with West. She maintains today that she was never given the opportunity to buy her masters outright. (On Tumblr, she wrote that she was offered the chance to “earn” back the masters to one of her albums for each new album she turned in if she re-signed with Big Machine; Borchetta disputed this characterization, saying she had the opportunity to acquire her masters in exchange for re-signing with the label for a “length of time” - 10 more years, according to screenshots of legal documents posted on the Big Machine website.)

Swift has said that she intends to rerecord her first six albums next year, starting next November, when she says she’s contractually able to - in order to regain control of her recordings. But the back-and-forth appears to be nowhere near over: Last month, Swift alleged that Borchetta and Braun were blocking her from performing her past hits at the American Music Awards or using them in an upcoming Netflix documentary - claims Big Machine characterized as “false information” in a response that did not get into specifics. (Swift ultimately performed the medley she had planned.) In the weeks following this interview, Braun said he was open to “all possibilities” in finding a “resolution,” and Billboard sources say that includes negotiating a sale. Swift remains interested in buying her masters, though the price could be a sticking point, given her rerecording plans, the control she has over the licensing of her music for film and TV, and the market growth since Braun’s acquisition.

However it plays out, the battle over her masters is the latest in a series of moves that has turned Swift into something of an advocate for artists’ rights, and made her a cause that everyone from Halsey to Elizabeth Warren has rallied behind. From 2014 to 2017, Swift withheld her catalog from Spotify to protest the streaming company’s compensation rates, saying in a 2014 interview, “There should be an inherent value placed on art. I didn’t see that happening, perception-wise, when I put my music on Spotify.” In 2015, ahead of the launch of Apple Music, Swift wrote an open letter criticizing Apple for its plan to not pay royalties during the three-month free trial it was set to offer listeners; the company announced a new policy within 24 hours. Most recently, when she signed a new global deal with Universal Music Group in 2018, Swift (who is now on Republic Records) said one of the conditions of her contract was that UMG share proceeds from any sale of its Spotify equity with its roster of artists - and make them non-recoupable against those artists’ earnings.

During a wide-ranging conversation, Billboard’s Woman of the Decade expresses hope that she can help make the lives of creators a little easier in the years to come - and a belief that her behind-the-scenes strides will be as integral to her legacy as her biggest singles. “New artists and producers and writers need work, and they need to be likable and get booked in sessions, and they can’t make noise - but if I can, then I’m going to,” promises Swift. This is where being impossibly famous can be a very good thing. “I know that it seems like I’m very loud about this,” she says, “but it’s because someone has to be.”

While watching some of your performances this year - like SNL and NPR’s Tiny Desk Concert - I was struck by how focused you seemed, like there were no distractions getting in the way of what you were trying to say. That’s a really wonderful way of looking at this phase of my life and my music. I’ve spent a lot of time re-calibrating my life to make it feel manageable. Because there were some years there where I felt like I didn’t quite know what exactly to give people and what to hold back, what to share and what to protect. I think a lot of people go through that, especially in the last decade. I broke through pre-social media, and then there was this phase where social media felt fun and casual and quirky and safe. And then it got to the point where everyone has to evaluate their relationship with social media. So I decided that the best thing I have to offer people is my music. I’m not really here to influence their fashion or their social lives. That has bled through into the live part of what I do.

Meanwhile, you’ve found a way to interact with your fans in this very pure way - on your Tumblr page. Tumblr is the last place on the internet where I feel like I can still make a joke because it feels small, like a neighborhood rather than an entire continent. We can kid around - they literally drag me. It’s fun. That’s a real comfort zone for me. And just like anything else, I need breaks from it sometimes. But when I do participate in that space, it’s always in a very inside-joke, friend vibe. Sometimes, when I open Twitter, I get so overwhelmed that I just immediately close it. I haven’t had Twitter on my phone in a while because I don’t like to have too much news. Like, I follow politics, and that’s it. But I don’t like to follow who has broken up with who, or who wore an interesting pair of shoes. There’s only so much bandwidth my brain can really have.

You’ve spoken in recent interviews about the general expectations you’ve faced, using phrases like “They’ve wanted to see this” and “They hated me for this.” Who is “they”? Is it social media or disparaging think pieces or... It’s sort of an amalgamation of all of it. People who aren’t active fans of your music, who like one song but love to hear who has been canceled on Twitter. I’ve had several upheavals of somehow not being what I should be. And this happens to women in music way more than men. That’s why I get so many phone calls from new artists out of the blue - like, “Hey, I’m getting my first wave of bad press, I’m freaking out, can I talk to you?” And the answer is always yes! I’m talking about more than 20 people who have randomly reached out to me. I take it as a compliment because it means that they see what has happened over the course of my career, over and over again.

Did you have someone like that to reach out to? Not really, because my career has existed in lots of different neighborhoods of music. I had so many mentors in country music. Faith Hill was wonderful. She would reach out to me and invite me over and take me on tour, and I knew that I could talk to her. Crossing over to pop is a completely different world. Country music is a real community, and in pop I didn’t see that community as much. Now there is a bit of one between the girls in pop - we all have each other’s numbers and text each other - but when I first started out in pop it was very much you versus you versus you. We didn’t have a network, which is weird because we can help each other through these moments when you just feel completely isolated.

Do you feel like those barriers are actively being broken down now? God, I hope so. I also hope people can call it out, [like] if you see a Grammy prediction article, and it’s just two women’s faces next to each other and feels a bit gratuitous. No one’s going to start out being perfectly educated on the intricacies of gender politics. The key is that people are trying to learn, and that’s great. No one’s going to get it perfect, but, God, please try.

At this point, who is your sounding board, creatively and professionally From a creative standpoint, I’ve been writing alone a lot more. I’m good with being alone, with thinking alone. When I come up with a marketing idea for the Lover tour, the album launch, the merch, I’ll go right to my management company that I’ve put together. I think a team is the best way to be managed. Just from my experience, I don’t think that this overarching, one-person-handles-my-career thing was ever going to work for me. Because that person ends up kind of being me who comes up with most of the ideas, and then I have an amazing team that facilitates those ideas. The behind-the-scenes work is different for every phase of my career that I’m in. Putting together the festival shows that we’re doing for Lover is completely different than putting together the Reputation Stadium Tour. Putting together the reputation launch was so different than putting together the 1989 launch. So we really do attack things case by case, where the creative first informs everything else.

You’ve spoken before about how meaningful the reputation tour’s success was. What did it represent? That tour was something that I wanted to immortalize in the Netflix special that we did because the album was a story, but it almost was like a story that wasn’t fully realized until you saw it live. It was so cool to hear people leaving the show being like, “I understand it now. I fully get it now.” There are a lot of red herrings and bait-and-switches in the choices that I’ll make with albums, because I want people to go and explore the body of work. You can never express how you feel over the course of an album in a single, so why try?

That seems especially true of your last three albums or so. “Shake It Off” is nothing like the rest of 1989. It’s almost like I feel so much pressure with a first single that I don’t want the first single to be something that makes you feel like you’ve figured out what I’ve made on the rest of the project. I still truly believe in albums, whatever form you consume them in - if you want to stream them or buy them or listen to them on vinyl. And I don’t think that makes me a staunch purist. I think that that is a strong feeling throughout the music industry. We’re running really fast toward a singles industry, but you got to believe in something. I still believe that albums are important.

The music industry has become increasingly global during the past decade. Is reaching new markets something you think about? Yeah, and I’m always trying to learn. I’m learning from everyone. I’m learning when I go see Bruce Springsteen or Madonna do a theater show. And I’m learning from new artists who are coming out right now, just seeing what they’re doing and thinking, “That’s really cool.” You need to keep your influences broad and wide-ranging, and my favorite people who make music have always done that. I got to work with Andrew Lloyd Webber on the Cats movie, and Andrew will walk through the door and be like, “I’ve just seen this amazing thing on TikTok!” And I’m like, “You are it! You are it!” Because you cannot look at what quote-unquote “the kids are doing” and roll your eyes. You have to learn.

Have you explored TikTok at all? I only see them when they’re posted to Tumblr, but I love them! I think that they’re hilarious and amazing. Andrew says that they’ve made musicals cool again, because there’s a huge musical facet to TikTok. [He’s] like, “Any way we can do that is good.”

How do you see your involvement in the business side of your career progressing in the next decade? You seem like someone who could eventually start a label or be more hands-on with signing artists. I do think about it every once in a while, but if I was going to do it, I would need to do it with all of my energy. I know how important that is, when you’ve got someone else’s career in your hands, and I know how it feels when someone isn’t generous.

You’ve served as an ambassador of sorts for artists, especially recently - staring down streaming services over payouts, increasing public awareness about the terms of record deals. We have a long way to go. I think that we’re working off of an antiquated contractual system. We’re galloping toward a new industry but not thinking about re-calibrating financial structures and compensation rates, taking care of producers and writers. We need to think about how we handle master recordings, because this isn’t it. When I stood up and talked about this, I saw a lot of fans saying, “Wait, the creators of this work do not own their work, ever?” I spent 10 years of my life trying rigorously to purchase my masters outright and was then denied that opportunity, and I just don’t want that to happen to another artist if I can help it. I want to at least raise my hand and say, “This is something that an artist should be able to earn back over the course of their deal - not as a renegotiation ploy - and something that artists should maybe have the first right of refusal to buy.” God, I would have paid so much for them! Anything to own my work that was an actual sale option, but it wasn’t given to me. Thankfully, there’s power in writing your music. Every week, we get a dozen synch requests to use “Shake It Off” in some advertisement or “Blank Space” in some movie trailer, and we say no to every single one of them. And the reason I’m rerecording my music next year is because I do want my music to live on. I do want it to be in movies, I do want it to be in commercials. But I only want that if I own it.

Do you know how long that rerecording process will take? I don’t know! But it’s going to be fun, because it’ll feel like regaining a freedom and taking back what’s mine. When I created [these songs], I didn’t know what they would grow up to be. Going back in and knowing that it meant something to people is actually a really beautiful way to celebrate what the fans have done for my music.

Ten years ago, on the brink of the 2010s, you were about to turn 20. What advice would you give yourself if you could go back in time? Oh, God - I wouldn’t give myself any advice. I would have done everything exactly the same way. Because even the really tough things I’ve gone through taught me things that I never would have learned any other way. I really appreciate my experience, the ups and downs. And maybe that seems ridiculously Zen, but... I’ve got my friends, who like me for the right reasons. I’ve got my family. I’ve got my boyfriend. I’ve got my fans. I’ve got my cats.

Taylor Swift Discusses 'The Man' & 'It's Nice To Have a Friend' In Cover Story Outtakes

Billboard // by Jason Lipshutz // December 12th 2019

During her cover story interview for Billboard’s Women In Music issue, Taylor Swift discussed several aspects of her mega-selling seventh studio album Lover, including its creation after a personal “recalibrating” period, her stripped-down performances of its songs and her plans to showcase the full-length live with her Lover Fest shows next year. In two moments from the extended conversation that did not make the print story, Billboard’s Woman of the Decade also touched upon two of the album’s highlights, which double as a pair of the more interesting songs in her discography: “The Man” and “It’s Nice To Have A Friend.”

“The Man” imagines how Swift’s experience as a person, artist and figure within the music industry would have been different had she been a man, highlighting how much harder women have to work in order to succeed (“I’m so sick of running as fast as I can / Wondering if I’d get there quicker if I was a man,” she sings in the chorus). The song has become a fan favorite since the release of Lover, and Swift recently opened a career-spanning medley with the song at the 2019 American Music Awards.

When asked about “The Man,” Swift pointed out specific double standards that exist in everyday life and explained why she wanted to turn that frustration into a pop single. Read Swift’s full thoughts on “The Man” below:

“It was a song that I wrote from my personal experience, but also from a general experience that I’ve heard from women in all parts of our industry. And I think that, the more we can talk about it in a song like that, the better off we’ll be in a place to call it out when it’s happening. So many of these things are ingrained in even women, these perceptions, and it’s really about re-training your own brain to be less critical of women when we are not criticizing men for the same things. So many things that men do, you know, can be phoned-in that cannot be phoned-in for us. We have to really — God, we have to curate and cater everything, but we have to make it look like an accident. Because if we make a mistake, that’s our fault, but if we strategize so that we won’t make a mistake, we’re calculating.

“There is a bit of a damned-if-we-do, damned-if-we-don’t thing happening in music, and that’s why when I can, like, sit and talk and be like ‘Yeah, this sucks for me too,’ that feels good. When I go online and hear the stories of my fans talking about their experience in the working world, or even at school — the more we talk about it, the better off we’ll be. And I wanted to make it catchy for a reason — so that it would get stuck in people’s heads, [so] they would end up with a song about gender inequality stuck in their heads. And for me, that’s a good day.”

Meanwhile, the penultimate song on Lover, “It’s Nice To Have A Friend,” sounds unlike anything in Swift’s catalog thanks to its elliptical structure, lullaby-like tone and incorporation of steel drums and brass. When asked about the song, Swift talked about experimenting with her songwriting, as well as capturing a different angle of the emotional themes at the heart of Lover. Read Swift’s full thoughts on “It’s Nice To Have A Friend” below:

“It was fun to write a song that was just verses, because my whole body and soul wants to make a chorus — every time I sit down to write a song, I’m like, ‘Okay, chorus time, let’s get the chorus done.’ But with that song, it was more of like a poem, and a story and a vibe and a feeling of... I love metaphors that kind of have more than one meaning, and I think I loved the idea that, on an album called Lover, we all want love, we all want to find somebody to see our sights with and hear things with and experience things with.

“But at the end of the day we’ve been searching for that since we were kids! When you had a friend when you were nine years old, and that friend was all you talked about, and you wanted to have sleepovers and you wanted to walk down the street together and sit there drawing pictures together or be silent together, or be talking all night. We’re just looking for that, but endless sparks, as adults.”

Read the full Taylor Swift cover story here, and click here for more info on Billboard’s 2019 Women In Music event, during which Swift will be presented with the first-ever Woman of the Decade award.

[link to this tweet]

Was there ever a part of you that was like, “Oh shit, I like this darker vibe, let’s go even further down that path?” I really Loved Reputation because it felt like a rock opera, or a musical, doing it live. Doing that stadium show was so fun because it was so theatrical and so exciting to perform that, because it’s really cathartic! But I have to follow whatever direction my life is going in emotionally... The skies were opening up in my life. That’s what happened. But in a way that felt like a pink sky, a pink and purple sky, after a storm, and now it looks even more beautiful because it looked so stormy before. And that’s just like, I couldn't stop writing. I’ve never had an album with 18 songs on it before, and a lot of what I do is based on intuition. So, you know, I try not to overthink it. Who knows, there may be another dark album. I plan on doing lots of experimentation over the course of my career. Who knows? But it was a blast, I really loved it.

I mean, look, a Taylor Swift screamo album? I’ll be first in line. I’m so happy to hear that, because I think you might be the only one. Ha! I have a terrible scream. It’s obnoxious.

Why Taylor Swift's Lover Fest Will Be Her Next Big Step

Billboard // by Jason Lipshutz // December 11th 2019 - [Excerpt]

On why she chose to put together Lover fest: “I haven’t really done festivals in years - not since I was a teenager. That’s something that [the fans] don’t expect from me, so that’s why I wanted to do it. I want to challenge myself with new things and at the same time keep giving my fans something to connect to.”

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hyunjoochung · 3 years

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Raise Three Fingers for Democracy

Exhibition Information Board

Updated on May 4, 2021

Title: Raise Three Fingers for Democracy

An illegitimate takeover

On February 1st, democracy in Myanmar was taken hostage in a brutal coup. The proxy military party won a humiliating 33 of 476 seats in November elections that were declared free and fair by the election commission and international observers. After demands to seize the ballots to recount personally were rejected, they launched their coup in the early hours of the morning, arresting over 200 elected officials returning for parliament, including de-facto leader Daw Aung San Suu Kyi.

Unprecedented nationwide protests broke out in a country still finding its democratic voice after a half-century of repression. A civil disobedience movement (CDM) formed. Doctors, teachers and government employees refused to work, joined by other essential sectors. Peaceful, creative protests filled the streets: families banging pots every night at 8pm, days of silence, highways blocked by 'broken down' cars.

Gradually, and then systematically, this was met with horrible brutality. The same military that perpetrated a genocide against the Rohingya now issued orders to shoot protestors in the head. They raid homes at night, and have arrested over 5,000. They have killed over 700 people, including over 50 children, like 6-year-old Khin Myo Chit, shot in the belly to teach her family a lesson. They have tortured over 20 people to death in custody. The internet has been shut down to all but 0.5% of the population. Media outlets that refuse to publish propaganda have been outlawed.

Freedom of the press (54 words)

This now-illegal newspaper can give you a picture of what is happening right now. It’s journalists continue to report while on the run.

[QR code & Screen set to: Mizzima reporting from a safe house]

To understand the nature of the military and their police stooges, you only need a few entries on the lists of this civil organisation tracking and verifying killings, arrests, indefinite detention and warrants:

[QR code & Screen set to: Link to PDF]

Freedom of expression

But there is still hope. The majority resists. People continue the fight every day. A symbol of hope is #threefingers. Used before in other Asian countries where democracy is under threat (the milk tea countries), it has gained major prominence in Myanmar. A group of Myanmar artists, illustrators and creatives used images of this symbol of resistance from the very first day. Since, you can see it in marches, at funerals, through the prison bars, in messages of defection, in the United Nations General Assembly, and where support can be found. It can be carried with you everywhere, and it can mean everything to those who show it.

These artists who first raised these totems of democracy in Myanmar are now putting out the call for support. Already artists, illustrators and cartoonists from around the world, from the UK to Korea, to Australia, Thailand, Hong Kong and farther have begun to return the call. Now, they need more people to join in. The fall of democracy is a worldwide phenomenon – this is just the latest front. They need YOU to stand for democracy, and help them delegitimise this brutal regime.

At night, after a day of beatings, shootings, horrors, frightened of gunshots and raids, losing hope, the young people continuing this fight can look at these artworks, songs, dances or messages, and see hope, solidarity and others that still believe in what they are risking everything for.

Every #threefingers raised builds awareness and support for human rights, freedom and democracy in Myanmar.

Message from our founder

(VIDEO: “We Will Win” by Latt Thone Chuang)

Quote

“At a very basic level, art plays a very practical role. It gets people energized, it makes people emotional, and it gets people to organise and get things done.

Art helps to frame the direction of the protest movement.

Art can also create hope and resilience. It takes people to another level and can help uplift the mood of the people.

I believe art – in all its forms – can give strength to people.

That’s what art can do.

It’s important to keep creating because you can’t handcuff ideas.

You can’t kill art with bullets.

– Maw Khun Thit, Latt Thone Chaung

Night arrests

At night, gunshots and flashbang explosives can be heard across the town. Security forces raid homes, trying to arrest and intimidate dissenting voices. Having suspended laws requiring warrants to search, they leave family members with no knowledge of the charges, location, or condition of their loved ones. Communities set up unarmed neighbourhood watch groups, local men and women who stayed up all night, banging pots to warn of approaching security forces.

Killing children (104 words)

On 23 March, security forces entered the home of 6-year-old Khin Myo Chit and her family in Mandalay. They asked her father if anyone was hiding in the house, and accused him of lying when he said no. When the girl ran to her father's arms, they shot her. She died before they could reach medics. Her last words were: "I can't father, it's too painful". Her brother was arrested and the family are yet to learn of his charge or whereabouts. Khin Myo Chit is one of over 50 child fatalities. All but one on record was shot.

Ethnic minorities

The coup instigator, Senior General Min Aung Hlaing, was found by UN Investigators as the perpetrator the Rohingya genocide and publicly stated he would 'clear up the Bengali problem'. The coup has led to the formation of a National Unity Government of protest leaders, a government that previously had to keep the military on side, and ethnic minorities targeted by the military including the Kachin, Karen and Chin. The Rohingya, the most known of these minorities internationally, are anti-military and are showing the three finger salute themselves.

Targeting poor communities

Since the start of the coup, many noticeable groups have been targeted: elected officials and election monitors, doctors for treating injured protestors, government employees and bank employees for refusing to work. But the violence has been worse in neighbourhoods where poor or factory workers live and work. With the least access to medical or legal help, and the least ability to escape or hide, they continue to risk the most for democracy.

Internet shutdown

Internet and mobile phones were inaccessible to all but the super rich until after 2014. A sim card cost over $3000. Then as democratisation opened up the country, it swelled to over 80% smartphone coverage. Over the last 2 years, Myanmar’s military has conducted the world’s longest internet shutdown over eight townships and a million people in Chin and Rakhine states, to suppress information about its actions there. Now this darkness is returning everywhere: just 0.5% of the population have access to the internet, only then to stop the banking system collapsing. And yet these short years of information have taken root – people know now that they deserve more.

Creative freedom in danger

For fifty years before 2012, art and expression was repressed in Myanmar. It left just one art school, teaching stuffy figurative pastiche. Censorship was visible every day, in newspapers with black bars, banned books, arrests of cartoonists or performers. Art lay dormant, but never died. In 8 short years, expression flourished fearlessly once more. Now over 35 artists, directors and performers have been arrested, and more than 200 are on the run from arrest warrants. Yet, they continue to speak out and use their expression to fight oppression.

Can you help them?

These artists need your words, pictures and actions to amplify their calls. They need you now to fight for democracy under threat in Myanmar and everywhere.

Message of hope

Quote 2 (with Nobel Aung artwork)

“The most inspiring thing has been the unity of people. We all have the same objective. This was apparent since the very first night of the coup. People continue to bang their pots and pans every night at 8 pm to make noise, every day even until now. We are not scared of guns anymore but the military is scared of the noise we make. We give courage and inspiration to each other.”

-Nobel Aung, illustrator and animator

Founder of Raise Three Fingers

Mandatories:

About:

Raise Three Fingers (formerly Art for Freedom MM) is a campaign founded by artists and creatives from Myanmar to bring the global art community together, stand up for democracy and highlight the humanitarian crisis unfolding since the military coup on February 1 2021.

Founders:

Art for Freedom MM

Using Art and Illustration to uphold human rights for Myanmar.

Latt Thone Chaung

We are here to celebrate all forms of creative protests against the military coup in Myanmar.

The Professional Cartoonists’ Organisation (UK)

Home to some of the UK’s finest cartoonists’ talent.

Collaborators:

Fine Acts - A global nonprofit creative studio for social impact

Human Rights Foundation - We partner with world-changing activists in creating innovative solutions to unite the world against tyranny.

Arts Help - Founded on the principle of art making the world a better place, Arts Help is the #1 art publisher, with a community of 2.5 million members.

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blogspersonal707 · 3 years

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katefiction · 4 years

Text

Revolution, Part 1

by katefiction (Maria) / 2014

It was a boiling hot day, the day before. I remember because George’s cheeks were bright red all day long. I’d had to resort to stripping him down to a vest and his nappy to keep him cool. It didn’t help that he’d recently discovered how to run. Every fourth step, he would lose his balance and fall to the floor, but he was so happy using his legs, chasing Lupo around the apartment and screeching as he went.

‘George, come here!’ I shouted, grabbing his arm as he ran past me.

I wiped his face and back down with a cold flannel, and made him sip on some water.

‘Ok, go’ I said, releasing him into the wild again.

The air conditioning had broken down a month back, or been switched off. We didn’t know which, but suspected the latter. We had been strongly advised not to open any windows, it would be “inviting trouble”, they had told us.

We’d had to make do with a few portable fans, but that wasn’t enough to cool down our twenty-room home. We decided instead to use only the rooms we needed and it was beginning to feel like a cage. Of course, I would never say that out loud.

With George occupied by Lupo, I sat myself down on the couch with a glass of iced tea. I never thought I’d be this kind of person. A housewife with nothing better to do than sit at home all day and watch daytime TV. But there I was expertly flicking through the channels, deciding between a DIY makeover show and a chat show. The news channels weren’t an option for me, I was sick to the teeth of the constant discussion; the repetition; the poring over of every detail hour after hour.

It was only when George commanded my attention that I snapped out of my zombie like state.

‘Da!’ he shouted, throwing his blue rhinoceros stuffed toy at my feet.

‘Georgie, don’t throw poor Ronald, that’s not nice’ I grabbed the toy and cuddled it to my chest, prompting George to reach out his little chubby arms.

I handed Ronald back to him and he smiled for a second or two before throwing him down again. ‘Da!?’

Ronald was a gift from William, and had quickly become George’s favourite toy. So much so, that he sat in George’s cot every night, standing guard over him.

‘Da? Da! Da?!’

‘Baby, he’s not home yet’, I scooped him up off the floor for a kiss and a cuddle, but he quickly wriggled out of my grasp.

Much to my annoyance, George had said ‘Da’ before he’d said ‘Mu’, which were his names for us. William had revelled in the fact that it was his first word, taunting me about it with the perseverance of a woodpecker.

Forcing myself off the couch, I decided to start on dinner. When I opened the fridge however, it was all but empty. A few vegetables sat limply in the bottom drawer and milk for George was lined up on the shelves. I sighed and slammed it shut. In the kitchen cupboard were a few cans of soup that we could eat with some bread. It riled me to see our kitchen so barren.

William came home at five, just as I was deciding between tomato and leek and potato for the third time that week.

‘Hey’ he said, leaving the door ajar for a few seconds to let some air in. His face was so tired, with dark patches under his eyes as if a storm cloud were shadowing his face.

‘Hey, how was it?’

He rubbed his worn face with his hand. ‘They won’t budge’

I sighed and turned away from him, ‘did you ask when our food would be delivered?’

‘I forgot’

For days I regretted how I acted next, wondering if it was that which pushed him over the edge.

‘William, I asked you to do one thing!’

‘I had more important things to think about’, he said, too tired to argue.

‘More important than feeding your son?’

‘Not tonight Kate, please…’

I slammed the can of soup down on the counter and tried to pull the ring pull back, but it wouldn’t move.

‘For God’s sake!’ I muttered under my breath.

William came over to me, his body hot from the searing heat, ‘leave it, we’ll order pizza’

‘We can’t live on takeaway’ I said unreasonably.

‘George’s got puree in the freezer; we can cope with pizza tonight. I’ll sort the groceries tomorrow, I promise’

I leant back into his chest and closed my eyes, ‘I’m sorry’

‘So am I’ he said, pushing his mouth into the top of my head.

‘So, what did they say?’ I asked finally.

‘The decision was final, all my engagements are cancelled, and I’m not to be seen in public until they say so’

‘Didn’t Jamie try and convince them?’

‘He was out-numbered; there was nothing he could do’

Over the last two months, our court had been slowly transformed with letters of resignation coming in every couple of weeks, until there was only Jamie left of our original staff. He was supposed to have all but left, but loyally, he’d stayed on. In place of our trusted advisers had come strangers who were now advising us that we shouldn’t even leave our home.

‘We need to get rid of them, we can do with just Jamie for now’ I said.

‘That would be admitting defeat; we can’t do without a court’

‘Do you trust them?’

‘I don’t know’. He pulled the pizza menu from the letter rack and sat down at the breakfast bar.

That was when I knew we were in trouble. William had always been so sure of the people around him. Like a sniper, he would seek out anyone he couldn’t trust and cast them out. But that night, he was worried and he couldn’t do a thing about it.

The history books will tell you that the Revolution began on May 6 2014, when the general election was called a year early. Britain had gone to the dogs with riots flaring up around the country over benefit cuts, energy prices and unemployment to name just a few.

Those of us that lived through it will tell you that it had started years earlier. The recession hit the country hard, and May 6 was the eruption of all those years of struggle. When the Green Party came into power that day, with its promise of a new prosperous Britain, it bought with it republican ideals.

The Republic had campaigned against the monarchy for years, but it wasn’t until that May that the British public stood up and took notice. The first months of 2014 were harsh and aggressive with rains and storms hitting our little island with no mercy. People were being forced out of their homes as the rain water crept in, ominously seeping under the doors and destroying everything it touched. Every penny was being whittled away by fuel and food, and the country had had enough of the government that had failed to protect them. By May, it was at breaking point, and the Republic seized their chance to use it against our family, so warm and dry in our fortified homes.

WE ARE PAYING FOR THE MONARCHY TO FEAST WHILE WE STARVE! They shouted, mounted on the lions of Trafalgar Square.

The protests intensified, with echoes of the 2011 summer riots rising once again. Outside all the palaces in London, masses stood, placards in hand, calling for the abolition of the institution that had served their country almost a thousand years. Little children who had once been so excited to meet us, now chanted along with their mothers and fathers. My little family of three hid behind our four walls, watching from the window as the police attempted to turn them away. But this wasn’t a violent protest; it was controlled, thought out and passive aggressive.

‘What do they think will happen?!’ I appealed to William. ‘We’ll just throw money out of the windows, chuck in some priceless paintings and jewels, and that will solve this country’s problems?!’

‘They want us to disappear’ he said gravely, stepping back from the window. ‘We represent sickening wealth, it doesn’t’ matter that we’re trying to help. Come away from the window before you’re seen’

We continued our engagements as best we could, our police protection bumped up just in case. But this only angered them more. The two princes, once so loved for their ‘normal’ personas and giving natures were now brandished all over the papers as spoilt and useless. No amount of PR could turn them back.

In June the Queen left for her summer holiday early under the cover of darkness. No one, not even William, knew if she was truly in Scotland.

That was when the Revolution hit us. With Her Majesty gone, our staff left one by one. Our engagements were cancelled and we were told to stay inside for our “own safety”.

It was the beginning of the end.

Unlike our groceries, the pizzas arrived promptly, Americana for me and Margarita for William. As I laid out the food on the table, I listened to him over the baby monitor putting George to bed.

‘Ok GB, it’s way past your bedtime’, he said, as George drank down his milk. ‘You are a greedy guts, aren’t you? Look how fast you’ve drunk your milk’

George babbled in reply.

William couldn’t wait for the day that he and George could have full blown conversations, and neither could I. I hoped it would stop William giving him a new name every week. There was ‘GB’ or ‘Team GB’, an acronym ‘Giant Baby’ in reference to our baby’s 8lb, 6oz weight at birth and ‘Grumplestiltskin’ was for when he was tired and grumpy.

Then there were the names he gave me. ‘Mum-a-tron’ was his current favourite.

‘Just like Daddy aren’t you, big appetite…now where’s Ronald?’

I heard him stand up, the creak of the rocking chair audible in our state of the art monitors.

‘Ah ha, there he is. Ronald’s going to look after you, isn’t he? He’ll protect you no matter what, I promise’

I heard him kiss George and put him into his cot. He didn’t leave the room right away, and I knew he was standing over the cot looking at his son as he so often did when he had something on his mind.

‘Dinner’s up’ I said when he returned to the kitchen.

We took it over to the couch and William immediately put on the news as he had done most nights for the last couple of months. I sighed inwardly.

‘Shall we put something else on tonight?’ I asked hopefully.

‘I just want to watch this for a bit’, he replied, ignoring me.

‘Will, please, can we just have one night without thinking about all this?’ I pointed to the TV, where a member of the Republic was arguing with the presenter about taxation.

‘This is my only source of information, they aren’t telling me anything’ he said scornfully.

I sat back into the sofa, defeated by William’s stubbornness. He was right, though, because an hour later, a breaking news bulletin flashed up on the screen.

PRINCE CHARLES AND THE DUCHESS OF CORNWALL LEAVE BRITAIN

I jolted up from my slumped state as the presenter read from the auto cue that had evidently just popped up in front of her.

‘Aides to the Prince of Wales have confirmed he has left Britain for an undisclosed period. They have declined to reveal his location but confirm that the Duchess of Cornwall is with him. It comes after the Queen left for her annual holiday two months early allegedly due to increasing pressure from the public and the campaign group Republic. Royal sources this evening have revealed that the Duke and Duchess of Cambridge, Prince George and Prince Harry remain in the UK’

The TV was the loudest sound in the room, but my ears were focussed on William’s breathing next to me. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and wordlessly called his father. I watched as his eyes darkened and his breathing intensified. After a few seconds, he ended the call.

‘What happened?’ I asked cautiously.

He didn’t answer me, and instead called Jamie.

‘Jamie, did you see the news? … I just tried, his phone has been disconnected … did you know? … Should we be worried? … OK, I will, bye’

‘What did he say?’

‘It’s the first he’s heard of it. He hasn’t heard from Papa’. His face was so full of worry, I just wanted to reach over and comfort him. But I knew when William was stressed, he needed time to himself.

‘What now?’

‘We stay inside until they tell us otherwise’

My phone buzzed on the sofa arm. It was my mum calling.

‘Tell her we’re ok, but nothing else’ William said, spotting the caller display, ‘we don’t know if our phones are being watched’

I reluctantly did as he said. I wanted more than anything to leave that place right then and go to stay with my parents. But something in William’s tone told me to leave my family in safety.

William, meanwhile paced around the apartment double checking every window and shutting all the curtains. He locked every door he could too.

‘Should we go to the panic room?’ I said anxiously when he returned.

The panic room was a high tech protected zone disguised as a normal room – in our case it was hidden behind our walk in wardrobe.

Suddenly he softened, coming over to me and taking me in his arms, ‘don’t be silly, you’re perfectly safe’

‘Then why are you locking us in here?’

‘As a precaution. As long as I’m here, you’re protected. The only time you’ll need that room is if I’m not’

I knew he was trying to placate me, and I let him because I didn’t want him to know I was scared. Looking back, I know he was doing the same thing.

We went to bed that night anxious but comforted by each other’s presence. After touching base with Harry, I insisted we bring George into our room for the night and we placed his cot as close to the bed as possible.

‘I’m sure your father’s tried to get in touch’ I began.

‘Tomorrow…we’ll talk about it tomorrow’ he said quietly, consumed by his own thoughts.

Somehow, we managed to fall asleep. It was a sleep so deep that I didn’t hear a footstep or a whisper that night, let alone hear him leave.

I woke up to silence. It was 6am and my body clock told me that George would wake up and demand breakfast in half an hour. When I looked to my left and right, neither of my boys were there.

It wasn’t unusual for me to wake up and find William not there. He was a light sleeper, and often he would get up before George so he could be there as soon as he woke, allowing me half an hour extra in bed. Recently, he’d been waking up before the sunrise, unable to stay in bed a moment longer than necessary.

I told myself that they were probably in the living room in front of the TV, watching the news so I lay there for a peaceful fifteen minutes, letting my body get used to being awake.

Eventually, I got up and went straight to the living room, only to find it was empty. The kitchen merely had the empty pizza boxes and menu scattered on the counter. Lupo was asleep in his basket in the corner.

Confused and trying to push down a rising sense of panic, I headed to the bathroom, which was cold and lifeless.

George’s room, I thought resolutely, chastising myself for overreacting. I would sometimes find the two of them playing in there, toys scattered all over the carpet because George only had to point and William would get whatever he wanted down from the shelf. Never mind the twenty cuddly toys already on the floor.

The room was vacant.

It was then that my heart shot into my throat.

‘William?!’ I shouted to no reply. ‘George?!’

I rushed back into the bedroom, looking for a note, checking my phone, anything. William wouldn’t have taken George for a walk without telling me, not in the current situation and certainly not without Lupo.

I felt the bile start to rise to my throat, my body breaking out into a sweat with the panic. Stay calm, I willed myself, taking deep breaths and letting my heart slow down.

I closed my eyes, and organised my thoughts. I would go through every one of our twenty rooms methodically and then and only then would I allow myself to worry. Collecting the keys from the study, I went about unlocking every door that William had locked the night before, switching on the lights to make extra sure as William had drawn all the curtains.

When I finished without finding a thing, I went back to our bedroom and did what a panicked wife and mother would do. I tried ringing him.

His phone went off within seconds, still lying on his bedside table where he always left it. My face popped up on the screen as it rang, smiling brightly into the camera. I wanted to throw it against the wall.

What was I supposed to do next? Who was I supposed to call? My mind blurred with all the things I’d been told in my training for emergencies when I’d married William. He would know what to do, I thought, my frustration momentarily overtaking my fear. I had never felt as alone as I did in that moment, my child missing, and my husband not there to calm me down.

We hadn’t planned what I’d do without him. ‘As long as I’m here, you’re protected’, he’d said the night before as if it was so simple.

Then, as if from nowhere, and in the most inappropriate of circumstances, a memory flashed through my mind. Every year we would join my family on holiday in the Caribbean. What I loved more than anything was standing in the crystal waters, the sun on my back, waiting for the warm waves to wash over my legs. No matter what was happening in my life – an imminent break up or a tough pregnancy – that moment was like hope rushing in.

Standing in my bedroom that day, sweat dripping down my face, the same sense of hope washed over my body, a force so strong it nearly pushed me backwards.

‘The only time you’ll need that room is if I’m not’

I hurled myself towards our walk in wardrobe. The door was closed and I knew immediately someone had been inside. We never closed that door.

Switching on the light, I hurried to the end of the long narrow room, which was lined top to bottom with shelves and rails of clothes, shoes and accessories. At the back end of the room, William’s suits hung immaculately in a row and I pushed them aside roughly to reveal a small, barely visible panel concealed within the wall.

There was a brass latch along the skirting board, and I struggled to remember where it was, fumbling my fingers along it until after what felt like an age, my finger landed on the piece of cold metal. Pulling it up, I heard the panel click and it jutted out, allowing me to slide it to one side.

Behind it hid a thick, heavy metal door. The last time I’d seen it was when we’d moved in. Security had shown us just how secure it was, the loud clunk of the four door latches filling the room. It did so again as I pushed down the handle, and breathed a sigh of relief as I found that it was unlocked. Pushing it open, I entered the room. The lights were cut out and the darkness engulfed me. My other senses strained to make up for the loss of my sight.

After a few seconds, I heard him, his tiny chest heaving in his slumber.

I stumbled around the tiny square room, running my hands clumsily along the wall until I found the light switch.

George was lying in the middle of the room. I hadn’t noticed when I rushed through the wardrobe, but the bottom draw from the large chest in the closet had been removed. It usually held my knitted jumpers, and now it held my baby.

I almost screamed with relief when I saw him lying there in his makeshift cot. Next to him was Ronald. I pulled him out as gently as I could but couldn’t help but squeeze him tightly.

‘Thank God, thank God’ I whispered, kneeling on the ground. ‘How did you get in here baby?’

George fussed in my arms, displeased to be woken up.

‘Where’s Daddy?’ I said trying to stay calm. ‘Where’s your silly daddy gone?’

Taking the room in, it revealed two phones, a radio transmitter, a box of emergency unperishable food, and a small portable toilet in the corner. But no William.

Taking George with me, I circled the apartment again, looking in every single room again for sign of him. I tried to convince myself that he’d just gone out for an emergency meeting or something, but the cold silence in our home told me different.

Returning to the panic room with a bottle of milk, some food and my phone, I decided we should stay in there until I decided what to do. After all, would it be overreacting to call the office, the protection officers even? He had only been gone a few hours at the most. I took Lupo with us too, who by that time, was just as awake as George, and I hoped that they would keep each other entertained while we waited for word from William.

George now fully alert and drinking his milk happily, climbed back into the drawer. If William were there, I knew he would’ve pushed George around in it, pretending it was a boat or a tank. I knelt beside him and noticed my hands trembling.

It was at that moment that I saw it, just as George joyfully threw Ronald from the drawer. Nestled between my knits; a note written haphazardly on a scrap piece of paper.

Don’t come looking. I’m sorry.

Jamie arrived within half an hour of my call; as if he was expecting it. With him were two of our new “advisers”. Steven, a tall lanky man in his early forties with sandy blonde hair and sharp features was calm and controlled. In comparison, the new press secretary, Alec, overweight and balding, had been loud and brash every time we’d had the misfortune to encounter him.

‘Ma’am’, they all said, Steven and Alec bowing their heads reluctantly.

‘What exactly happened Ma’am?’ Jamie said kindly, noticing my obvious distress to which the other two were oblivious.

I explained everything from start to finish, all the essential parts anyway. ‘There’s no reason that he would leave like this, something must’ve happened’ I said calmly as I could.

‘Let’s not go over the top here’ Alec said, his voice booming around the room, ‘there’s probably an explanation – have you tried calling him?’

‘Of course I have! He left his phone here’

‘With all due respect’ Steven said, chiming in, ‘it has only been a few hours, perhaps we should wait before jumping to conclusions’

‘I’m not jumping to anything; he would not leave us like this, not after yesterday’

‘And of course we’ll do our best to help’ Jamie said.

‘But we do have a lot on, you understand, we can’t go on a wild goose chase’ Alec looked pointedly at Jamie. ‘Tell me, where’s the little one?’

‘Asleep in the nursery’ I said cautiously. I didn’t like strangers getting too close to George, and as far as I was concerned, Steven and Alec were just that.

‘I believe the duke has been under a lot of pressure recently’ Steven said coldly, ‘perhaps his leaving has something to do with domestic matters?’

I grew hot with embarrassment and anger, ‘what are you insinuating?’

‘Did anything happen last night that might have encouraged him to leave?’

‘We had a tiny disagreement about not having any food in the house, but it was nothing’

‘Sometimes small arguments can cause people to re-evaluate things, especially with the big changes happening of late‘

‘My husband has not left me’ I said with a shaking confidence. ’Something has happened to him, besides he hasn’t taken a single thing with him’

Steven nodded patronisingly. ‘We’ll look into it’

‘Give it a few more days though’ Alec added.

I realised then that they were going to do nothing to help me find William. I looked to Jamie for back up.

‘I’ll be right behind you’ he said to the other two, who were making moves to leave.

‘We can wait’ Steven said, halting on the spot.

Jamie looked right at me, his eyes unwavering. It was as if he were trying to communicate something to me without words. ‘I’m sure he’s just fine, Ma’am’.

The following days were filled with anxious waiting and little to no sleep. It had been seventy two hours since William had disappeared and I hadn’t heard a thing. I had tried countless times to convince Jamie that we should call the police.

At first he told me that we had to wait twenty four hours before reporting a missing person. When those twenty four hours came and I rushed down to his office to make the call, he was apologetic, telling me we should wait a bit longer.

On the third day, I was back in his office yet again.

‘The problem is Ma’am, he left a note, so he’s not technically missing’ he said, wiping his brow, the heat still searing.

‘He’s been gone three days Jamie. You know as well as I do, something isn’t right’

‘I’m afraid the police won’t see it like that, they’ll agree that he left of his own accord’.

Stephen appeared from the adjoining office after hearing my voice. I had managed to avoid him and Alec for the past three days.

‘Is there anything I can help with?’ he said, his voice sending uncomfortable waves of nausea through me.

‘Nothing’ I said shortly.

I glanced in the direction of his office, finding something to focus on that wasn’t his sharp, sly face. He stepped to one side as if to block the doorway from my view. Our old staff kept their doors open for us, happy for us to know what they were doing and discussing.

‘Where’s the little’un today?’ he asked with an informality that was clearly against every bone in his body.

‘He’s being looked after’

‘By whom may I ask? I didn’t see your mother arrive’

Stephen and Alec had CCTV monitors installed in that office. Ever since the protests outside the palace, the security had been intensified. George’s nanny had been let go too, we couldn’t let her stay with us in potential danger no matter how much George loved her. I wondered whether Stephen and Alec’s concern was not really about who was coming in, but who was going out.

‘George is fine. Thank you’ I said.

‘If you insist. Ma’am’ He nodded curtly and slid back into his office.

I bolted up the stairs the minute I left the office. How could I be so stupid to leave George with someone outside the family?

‘Antonella!’ I yelled when I got into the apartment. ‘Antonella, where are you?’

The comforting smell of tomato and basil wafted from the kitchen, followed by the shuffling feet of our some-time cook and housekeeper. Jamie had finally convinced Steven and Alec to let her return after weeks of her not being allowed “for security reasons”.

‘Yes Ma’am’ she said, her tone one of constant worry nowadays.

‘Where’s George?’ I said irrationally and out of breath.

‘In his cot Ma’am, where you left him’

Clearly, Antonella was confused by my sudden change of attitude. Ten minutes previously, I’d asked her to watch George while he was napping so I could speak to Jamie.

I ran into the nursery to check on him, where he was splayed on his front like a starfish, gentle snores escaping his mouth.

‘You should probably go’, I said to Antonella when I returned to the kitchen.

‘But what about the din-‘

‘I said go!’ I shouted this time, my steady façade gone.

She didn’t hesitate, gathering up her things and scuttling out of the door.

It was only when the door clicked shut that I let myself crumple into a heap on the floor. I gathered my knees to my chest and sobbed into them, great wells of tears that had been bursting at the seams for three days. I had no idea where William was and no hope of finding him. I had been convincing myself that he wouldn’t leave us, but spanning my mind back, my bitchiness over the food and his stress that night made me doubt myself. Maybe he just wanted out.

I picked myself up and tuned off the stove, where Antonella’s pasta sauce was close to burning. I couldn’t bear to eat anything now.

That night, I sat on my bedroom window ledge, unable to sleep. Scrolling through William’s phone for the fiftieth time, I flicked through his picture album. Before George was born, I would tease him for only having six pictures stored in his phone, compared to my two hundred. But now, his was as full as mine, with shots of George from the day he was born to just last week when he was trying to climb on top of Lupo.

I looked out into the black night, wondering how he could have left all this. I thought about where he might go to escape.

Scotland, Windsor? Too close.

Kenya? That was his favourite place on earth, after all. But people knew him there now.

William had once told me, ‘I’d love to move somewhere where I could lose my identity, to be small fish in a big pond, a nobody’.

I had just laughed at him and told him he’d have a hard job finding such a place.

I shook away the thought of him being far from me and focused back on the night he left.

Did he leave through the front entrance, the darkness of Kensington Gardens engulfing him so he wasn’t seen? Or perhaps through the back, scurrying into a car while we were all asleep?

As if knowing which exit he used would help me find him, I chided myself.

I stopped my thoughts in their tracks. There was a way I could know how he left, of course there was.

I wrapped George in a blanket, careful not to wake him and tip toed out of the apartment. It was almost midnight and all the staff had gone home, at least I hoped.

As I unlocked the office door, I silently thanked Jamie for giving me a key when William and I had married. Those days of transparency were long gone now, I knew that much. I headed straight to Steven and Alec’s annexed office, where this morning, Steven had been so unwilling to let me see inside. Mercifully, it was unlocked.

Suspended on the wall was a plasma screen split into twelve, each showing a different entrance of the palace. Now, there was no movement, but I knew if I looked for the tape from the night William left, I may just have something to see. Swopping George to my other arm, I pulled open the heavy drawer of the filing cabinet under the screen and found rows of cds all neatly labelled with dates. William disappeared on the 12th and my heart pace increased and I spotted the July section.

10th, 11th, 13th.

George whined in my arms as if sensing my distress.

‘Shhh baby, shh, Mummy’s here’

I knew there was no point looking for the missing cd, it was gone, most likely destroyed. It only confirmed my belief that I was swimming against the tide. Not only were these new advisers reluctant to help me, they were actively hiding information.

‘Yes it’s getting in the morning edition’ a voice said, coming from nowhere and startling me. ‘Ha! Runaway Prince, I like it’

It was Alec, and by the sound of it, he was out in the corridor.

I panicked, ducking down under Steven’s desk. George didn’t like the sudden movement and let out a cry.

‘Shhhh!’ I said holding his head close to my chest, my heart beating like a drum.

Alec continued. ‘What? Yeh I told them she’s frantic, prissy little bi-‘

George cried, louder this time.

I crouched lower, ‘please baby, be quiet for Mummy’ I whispered desperately.

I heard the outer office door creak and after a long pause, his breathing low and heavy, he finally spoke again.

‘Oh nothing…just a cat outside. Anyway, make sure you get the message to Redfern tomorrow, we don’t want him staging a comeback…’

Alec’s voice trailed off as he shut the door and left. I breathed a sigh of relief, planting kisses all over George’s face for keeping quiet when he really needed to.

Back in the apartment, I paced the lushly carpeted floor. Who was Redfern and what did he need to know? I’d never heard of that name, and desperately wanted to call Jamie to ask him. But I now realised the lengths Steven and Alec were prepared to go, and couldn’t risk using my phone.

My eyes were tired, deep bags forming under them, but I couldn’t sleep. Out of desperation and insomnia, I fired up the laptop and typed ‘Redfern’ into Google. The first couple of results were meaningless; a publishing house and a photographer with the name.

But the third caught my eye.

Redfern, Iowa

I clicked on the link.

Redfern is a town is Iowa, United States. The population in the 2010 census was 104.

I looked up from the screen, not daring to believe it, or to let myself hope.

‘I’d love to move somewhere where I could lose my identity, to be small fish in a big pond, a nobody’.

The sun had broken by the time I had worked out a way to contact Jamie without using my phone, which William warned me could have been bugged. A niggling feeling warned me to be careful. Maybe I couldn’t trust him either. But he was my only hope of finding William.

I hunted around in my underwear drawer and eventually found what I was looking for. Tucked into one of my socks was my old mobile phone, a Nokia to be exact. It was the very same that had been hacked all those years back. William would’ve been mortified if he knew I still had it, with all those messages still stored on there. But I couldn’t let it go, it was a potent memory of the days when our communication consisted of love yous and miss yous, unlike the last text I sent to him, which simply said Don’t forget to ask about the food.

I prayed that after all these years the old thing would be able to switch on, let alone make a call. By the time the phone had woken up, I had finished packing mine and George’s bags. I had started as soon as I’d decided that Redfern was the place I needed to go. Our bags consisted of a few clothes, as much cash as I could find, toys – Ronald of course – but mainly were filled with food and water.

It was only 5am, and feeling bad for Jamie, I delayed calling him for fifteen minutes by looking at some old text messages from William.

09/05/2006 : I can’t wait to see you baby

How true that was now. I felt a tinge of fear that maybe I was wrong, maybe Redfern was something totally unrelated to where William had gone. I pushed the doubt aside, it was all I had left to cling on to.

The car pulled up quietly at eight am. Jamie had been furtive on the phone, worried about my state of mind. But I insisted and pleaded with him, and something told me he didn’t think my idea was as crazy as he made out.

‘Ok Georgie, time to go’ I said to him as he sat on the kitchen floor rolling a ball into Lupo and then shouting as if he expected him to roll it back.

Distracting myself from the fact that I was leaving my home seemed so easy when I had packing and last minute calls to make. It seemed ironic that the same phone that was infiltrated was now being used to avoid that very situation. I had explained to my family what was happening but declined to tell them where I was going. My mother was frantic.

‘Catherine, you can’t just disappear! How will we know you’re safe?!’

‘I’ll get in touch as soon as I can, I promise mummy’

It broke my heart to hear her so worried and upset, but I reasoned that if would be safer for them to not know where we were. I still didn’t know what I was up against. Harry hadn’t answered his phone but Jamie had promised to let him know where his brother was once we knew for sure.

Lupo sat solemnly on the kitchen floor as if he had heard me ask my mother to take him in.

‘Ok boy, time to say goodbye’ I nuzzled my face into his fur but he didn’t respond. ‘Say bye bye to Lupo, George’

George waddled over and imitated me by patting him on the head. I forced back the lump in my throat.

Carrying all three bags and George on my hip, I opened the door and looked around our home for one last time. Lupo trotted up to us and started scratching at my legs.

‘No boy, it’s just me and Georgie this time’ I pushed him down and said goodbye to him and to the life we once lived.

After creeping through the servant’s corridors and out of a side door, George and I bundled into the car that was waiting for us. On the seat next to me was not Jamie as I expected, however.

‘Susannah, what are you doing here? Where’s Jamie?’ I asked, strapping George into his seat.

‘We thought it’d be safer if I came, I pretended I was going out for a morning jog and met the car on a side street’ she said.

Jamie’s wife sat next to me, a worried expression on her face.

‘You think you’re being watched?’ I asked.

‘Jamie thinks so, these ex-military types are suspicious of everyone though’, she let out a wry laugh.

‘I know the feeling’ I said, thinking of William and his intense dislike of Steven and Alec. That time he was right.

As we set off, I tried to make conversation, ‘how did Jamie organise all this? I thought the whole palace was being watched’

‘Let’s just say there’s still some loyal people working for your family’ she smiled.

We made our way through the streets of London, I had no idea where the plane was that I’d be taking to Iowa or how Jamie managed to get it, but I didn’t ask. I was relieved enough to be away from Kensington.

Driving around Green Park, Susannah handed me a newspaper she’d been clutching.

‘I don’t know if you’ve seen this Ma’am’

I unfolded the paper and read the headline. Exclusive! Runaway Prince! Prince William walks out on Kate.

I shut it with haste. So this was what Alec was talking about last night.

I said nothing and focused instead on our journey. The drive seemed to be taking us down the Mall and towards Buckingham Palace. As we got closer, a strange noise caught our attention. It was a mass cheering of some sort, but not the type I was used to when standing from that famous balcony. It was more like jeering.

Getting closer to the palace, my eyes connected to the sound.

Up on that balcony, which had been used for so many scenes of celebration was a large group of people waving their arms in victory.

Replacing the red and gold trimmed banner so often used on big occasions was something very different hanging from the the balustrade.

Blue, with a shocking pink cross struck through the middle. The Republic.

‘Good God, they’ve taken the palace’ Susannah gasped.

From the windows of the palace, Republic flags were dotted around, flying proudly.

On the ground, gone were the uniformed guards in their famous bearskin hats. People stood behind the golden gates cheering and shouting, and on the other side, members of the Republic pulled at the chains to let the masses in. News vans were just arriving to the scene.

We watched as the flag rose from the top of the building, where the royal standard used to fly, signifying their final victory.

‘We have to turn around, go a different route’ I heard Susannah say to the driver in panic ‘if they spot Their Royal Hignesses…’

‘Don’t call us that’ I said blankly.

Susannah looked at me but said nothing.

I kept my eves on the palace even as the driver turned the car around. Although I had only been royal for three years, the pain of watching the palace being seized throbbed through me. It was where we’d spent our first day and night as a married couple, where we’d danced all night on the wave of love and affection of the country. And now they celebrated, and no-one; no police, not even Her Majesty’s Armed Forces were there to stop them.

‘It’s over, isn’t it?’ I whispered to no-one in particular.

George let out a long yawn, snapping me out of my daze. I turned to smile at him, he was looking out of the window, with not a care in the world. He was the spitting image of his father. It was then that I finally allowed to let myself think the unthinkable – what if we never found William, what if he was gone.

I held George’s hand, enclosing his chubby fingers in my palm as we escaped from the city.

It was just the two of us now, we were going to have to do this alone.

‘Come on then’ I said, leaning in to him, ‘let’s go find your daddy’.

#katefiction #royal fanfiction #cambridge fanfiction #kate middleton

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