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sweetsmellosuccess · 3 years

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The Best Films of 2020

The 15 Best Films of 2020

Normally, when I assess a full year of cinematic offerings, I consider both sides of that coin — the outstanding entities, and the least successful — but the year of our lord two thousand and twenty provided more than enough misery for all of us, I do believe. Ergo, in my own small way to bring better vibes into the universe, for this year’s round-up, I’m staying solely on the positive tip, highlighting those films whose unfortunate release date during the Year of the Hex shouldn’t preclude them for being fully appreciated. Let’s take a year off from negativity and schadenfreude, shall we, and just stroll amongst the poppies and bright sunshine of some of the best releases of the year.

15. The Invisible Man

“Leigh Whannell’s film is thoroughly modern in approach and sophistication, but the film it most reminded me of was made back in 1944. George Cukor’s Gaslight starred Charles Boyer as a loathsome husband who attempts to convince his already anxious wife (Ingrid Bergman) that she’s going insane by secretly rearranging things in their house and taking things from her so she thinks she’s always misplacing them. He preys on her emotional vulnerability in order to mask his own pathology and emotional detachment. The effect is absolutely enraging: Onscreen, he’s one of the more hateful villains ever committed to celluloid.”

Full Review

14. The Killing of Two Lovers

“From the opening sequence, with a distraught, estranged husband standing over the bed of his wife and her new boyfriend with malice in his heart, and a gun in hand, the film spirals out into incredibly well structured compositions, taking us inside and outside of David’s recurring psychosis, utilizing a bevy of techniques: The framing shrinks down around him, the sound gets muffled, as if underwater, save for the incredibly unnerving metallic sound of cables being stretched taut, and the sickening kathunk of a heavy car door slamming shut.”

Capsule Review

13. Another Round

“Typically, Vinterberg avoids simple conclusions — and God help us all if this film gets picked up by a U.S. studio and remade with, say, Vince Vaughn, Kevin James, Steve Buscemi, and Chris Rock — providing more or less equal examples of the delirious fun drinking with your friends can be (the film opens with a group of high schoolers gleefully doing “lake races” whereby teams compete to drink a case of beer while running around the nearby body of water; and closes with the same teen crew, and some of their teachers, whooping it up in celebrating their graduation); and the horrorshow it can become (one teacher ends up peeing the bed, and on his wife in the process, another wakes up bloodied and out of it in front of his neighbor’s house), leading to very real and horrible consequences.”

Capsule Review

12. Soul

“Co-director Pete Docter is the creative force behind many of Pixar's best titles, having a hand in the Toy Story franchise, WALL-E, Up, and also directing Inside Out, a brilliantly moving treatise on the subject of emotional upheaval. This film, which he co-wrote and made along with fellow co-director Kemp Powers, is his first film back at the helm since that high-water mark, and he has again dug into the fertile earth of our mortality and come back with a particularly vibrant crop.”

Full Review

11. The Burnt Orange Heresy

“Based on the novel by Charles Willeford, the film briskly moves through its paces, clouding the waters with the schemes of duplicitous men, who have sold out any love of art for their greater obsession of cash and prestige. A literary thriller in the vein of The Talented Mr. Ripley, it’s become a genre all too rare in the era of blockbuster bravado. This film will remind you what a mistake that is.”

Full Review

10. Lovers Rock

“In the course of the party, the fuses blow while the house DJ is spinning Janet Kay's "Silly Games," a fan favorite at the time. Undaunted, the guests continue dancing away, singing the lyrics a capella in delirious unison, as McQueen's camera swirls around the living room as if nothing happened. Such a heartfelt moment of unbridled togetherness, putting into distinct bas relief the sense of community we've been denied as a species in 2020, feels like a benediction, an epitaph for the year, and a salve for what we've all been so desperately missing.”

Capsule Review

9. Time

“Ostensibly, it’s about the strain of incarceration on even the most grounded of families (an experience naturally disproportionate for POCs); but, on a deeper level, it’s also about the manner of our use of the limited number of revolutions we get to enjoy situated on this earth. It is a profound knock-out.”

Full Review

8. New Order

“Meet the new boss, only in Michel Franco’s damning portrait of a society locked forever in cycles of oppression, revolution, and new oppression, it makes no difference who you are, what your belief system is, or whether or not you subscribe to a moral set of ethics.”

Capsule Review

7. Dick Johnson is Dead

“Utilizing stunt people and special effects, Johnson kills her father off a number of different gruesome ways, as a means of softening the blow of actually losing him as his mind slowly slips away. This eventually culminates in a final gambit, both acutely painful and deeply moving, in which our sense of things gets seriously upended. As Johnson put it during the post-screening Q&A, the film serves as a “doomed experiment trying to keep my father alive forever.” This film won’t make him immortal, alas, but it does make him indelible.”

Capsule Review

6. Martin Eden

“Marcello packs the film with offbeat bits and pieces of other films, including strips of what appear to be vintage home movies, sometimes in juxtaposition to what Martin is feeling — a group of kids swinging wildly from the bar of a fence, to a full galley ship taking in water and suddenly sinking like an iron ingot – which adds a more winsome, timeless element to the narrative. It’s clearly set in the past, but avoids being too dependent on that particular sense of place and time. Martin is a young man, at first, just coming into himself, and the actions he takes, what he goes through, the film seems to suggest, would be similar in any age.”

Full Review

5. Minari

“The film is certainly charming, but that’s not to diminish its straightforward approach to its characters’ plight. It doesn’t shy away from their difficulties, and as a result, it doesn’t cheat towards smarmy emotional closure.”

Capsule Review

4. Collective

“The breath of hope in the film, when the inept Minister of Health resigns, leading to the placing of a new, emboldened director who works quickly to clean the quagmire left by his predecessors, is just as quickly expelled after the next round of elections, in which the Social Democrat party — the very ones in charge of this catastrophe in the first place — gets re-elected with an even greater majority than what they had before. A perfect reflection of what happens when a government is allowed to exist without any meaningful oversight, other than from a bedraggled press and a disenchanted electorate.”

Full Review

3. First Cow

“Reichardt, a naturalist at heart, is not known much as a humorist, but there is a lightness to her screenplay -- co-written by Jonathan Raymond, her frequent collaborator, who wrote the original novel upon which its based -- that keeps it as sweetly airy as one of Cookie's fried confections. The two friends are so out of step with their surroundings -- the party of men Cookie initially travels with are little more than brutish thugs, and the fort upon which they end up is no better -- they almost had to find each other. They are reunited in the local bar of the fort only because literally every other patron runs out to egg on a brawl between two loutish combatants.”

Full Review

2. Never Rarely Sometimes Always

“Hittman’s eye for detail and emotional complexity — her characters can rarely articulate anything they’re experiencing — is incredibly acute, and she pulls tremendously understated performances out of her two leads.”

Capsule Review

1. Nomadland

“Perhaps no American director since Terrance Malick has made more of the collapsing light of dusk and twilight than Chloe Zhao. Much of her new film, which stars Frances McDormand as a transigent woman (“not homeless, houseless”), who traverses back and forth across the west in her beat up live-in van, doing seasonal work, takes place in that particular kind of vibrant half-darkness that shrouds the desert and its mountains with a magic kind of mystery.”

Capsule Review

Other Worthy Mentions: 7500; Assassins; Bacurau; Beanpole; Beginning; Black Bear; Bloody Nose Empty Pockets; Boys State; Come Play; Emma; Gunda; His House; Horse Girl; I Am Greta; Jacinta; La Llorona; Let Him Go; Limbo; Mangrove; Mayor; MLK/FBI; One Night in Miami…; Palm Springs; Possessor Uncut; Red, White & Blue; Relic; She Dies Tomorrow; Shirley; Shithouse; Shiva Baby; Some Kind of Heaven; Spring Blossom; Swallow; Tenet; The Dissident; The Invisible Man; The Nest; Sound of Metal; The Vast of Night; The Viewing Booth; The Way I See It; Vitalina Varella; Welcome to Chechnya

Inexplicably Underrated: 7500; Shithouse

Biggest Welcome Surprise(s): The Vast of Night; His House; She Dies Tomorrow

The Best Two Films I Saw This Year, Period: Satantango (1994); Harlan County, USA (1976)

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twentiethcenturymoviesandtv · 4 years

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Dead Poets Society: The Story

Dead Poets Society opens in a pretty traditional way: with the first day of school.

It’s the beginning of a fresh school year for transfer student Todd Anderson (Ethan Hawke), new, shy kid on the block at Welton Academy, a prestigious prep-school for boys, located in Vermont. At the opening ceremony, older recruits march through a church, down the aisles full of other students, carrying banners that display the words: Tradition, Discipline, Honor, and Excellence. New students light candles, and, most importantly, headmaster Nolan takes to the podium to welcome the new students, and shy, quiet Todd Anderson sits in the pew, looking nervous as Headmaster Nolan begins his speech, discussing the four Pillars of the school, the prestigious nature of the establishment, and introducing the new English teacher: John Keating (Robin Williams).

The panel of teachers, sitting behind Nolan, is notably older and grayer than Keating, who, while not a terribly young man, is considerably more lively and animated than his new colleagues. This will be important later, but not right now. (Spoilers below!)

After the ceremony, the courtyard in front of the school is full of parents saying goodbye to their sons. It is here that we learn something interesting about Todd: he has, as Nolan puts it, “big shoes to fill” . As it turns out, Todd’s older brother was a student here, and a pretty good one. Even more nervous, Todd files out of the courtyard with the rest of the students, where we meet Todd’s to-be roomate: Neil Perry (Robert Sean Leonard).

Neil Perry seems to be Todd’s complete opposite in personality. He’s confident, and out-going, and is expected by Nolan to be doing ‘great things’ this year. He takes Todd up to their dorm room, and there, Todd meets Neil’s friends: Knox Overstreet (Josh Charles), Richard Cameron (Dylan Kussman), Stephen Meeks (Allelon Ruggiero), Gerard Pitts (James Waterson), and Charlie Dalton (Gale Hansen). The boys get comfortable in Neil and Todd’s room, teasing Neil for being made to take chemistry courses over the summer. The laid-back nature of the introductions is cut short, however, by a knock at the door.

It’s Neil Perry’s father (Kurtwood Smith).

Mr. Perry tells Neil that he has spoken to Mr. Nolan, and has cut all of Neil’s extra-curricular activities for the year, including the school yearbook, as he doesn’t want Neil distracted from the end-goal of medical school. Neil tries to argue, but is quickly shot down.

After Mr. Perry leaves, the other boys encourage Neil to stand up to his father, but he refuses, resigned to doing what he’s told. The other boys leave, inviting Todd to join them for a Latin study group the next day.

The next day, on the first true day of classes, the boys pass through lesson after lesson, taught by wizened, distinguished men who bore their students to tears.

And then comes English class.

Mr. Keating enters the room, passes his entire classroom, and heads for the opposite door, telling his class to follow him. Confused, the class obeys.

Keating takes them out to the hallway, encouraging them to look at the case full of pictures of Welham alumnus, and tells them that those who first attended Welton, explaining that these people who were once young, are now old, or even dead.

“Carpe diem, seize the day. Gather ye rosebuds while ye may.”

He also recites to them some poetry:

“O Captain, my Captain. Who knows where that comes from? Anybody? Not a clue? It’s from a poem by Walt Whitman about Mr. Abraham Lincoln. Now in this class you can either call me Mr. Keating, or if you’re slightly more daring, O Captain my Captain.”

After class, Cameron remarks that Keating seems rather odd, but the rest of the boys seem to like him, or at least, find him interesting. While the boys hit the showers, Knox reveals that he has to attend a dinner at the Danburys’ (whoever they are, more on that later) explaining that he can’t meet to study with them tonight. The boys pick on him a little and then invite Todd, who doesn’t seem to be on board for the plan.

That night, the boys meet to study, and Knox comes in late, elated. See, he’s met the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen: Chris. The bad news is that she’s engaged to a guy named Chet, but that doesn’t seem to deter Knox that much. He remains completely smitten.

The next day, Keating’s class remains as unconventional as the day before. This is no course where the first class is fun and then it’s down to business the next day: Keating seems to mean business about seizing the day.

He opens class by requesting that Cameron reads the first page of the introduction of their poetry book, an introduction about how to rate a poem’s ‘greatness score’. As he reads, Keating writes on the board, allowing him to reach the end of the page before telling Cameron, and the rest of the class, to rip out the introduction.

At first, the class hesitates, but after a moment, many of the students gleefully obey. As they tear out the pages, another teacher, Mr. McAllister stops to investigate. Keating explains that he is teaching the boys to think for themselves, to enjoy the use of language and the power of words.

“No matter what anybody tells you, words and ideas can change the world.”

The boys contemplate this as Keating adds:

“We don’t read and write poetry because it’s cute. We read and write poetry because we are members of the human race. And the human race is filled with passion. And medicine, law, business, engineering, these are noble pursuits and necessary to sustain life. But poetry, beauty, romance, love, these are what we stay alive for. To quote from Whitman, “O me! O life!… of the questions of these recurring; of the endless trains of the faithless… of cities filled with the foolish; what good amid these, O me, O life?” Answer. That you are here – that life exists, and identity; that the powerful play goes on and you may contribute a verse. That the powerful play goes on and you may contribute a verse. What will your verse be?”

At dinner, McAllister sits next to Keating and chastises him warningly about his choice to educate the boys to think for themselves, encouraging them to be creative.

“Show me the heart unfettered by foolish dreams and I’ll show you a happy man,” McAllister quotes.

Keating smiles and replies with a verse of his own: “But only in their dreams can men be truly free. ‘Twas always thus, and always thus will be.”

At their own table, the boys unearth an old yearbook, searching for Mr. Keating’s page. They learn that he was involved in a group called the ‘Dead Poets Society’.

Curiosity piqued, the boys ask Keating about the Dead Poets Society after dinner. Keating explains that it was a secret society, inspired by the words of Henry David Thoreau to ‘suck the marrow out of life’. This group would gather in a nearby cave and read poetry aloud, and write some of their own.

Neil suggests to the rest of the boys in private that they should revive the Dead Poets Society and meet that night. In his room, he finds a book called Five Centuries of Verse, with an inscription from Keating: the opening to every Dead Poets Society meeting.

“I went to the woods because I wanted to live deliberately. I wanted to live deep and suck out all the marrow of life. To put to rout all that was not life; and not, when I had come to die, discover that I had not lived.”

That night, the boys all sneak out of the school and meet in the caves. Neil begins the meeting, reading the opening, and then the group takes turns reading poems and talking, getting progressively more spirited. After a while, they conclude, heading back to the school and singing.

The next day, in English class, Mr. Keating shows the boys how to read Shakespeare: not dull and stuffy, but full of life, (doing impressions of Marlon Brando and John Wayne to illustrate) and then does something even stranger.

Keating climbs onto his desk and asks the class why he does this. Charlie suggests that it is to feel taller.

“No! Thank you for playing, Mr. Dalton. I stand upon my desk to remind myself that we must constantly look at things in a different way.”

With that, Keating encourages his class, one at a time, to stand on his desk, looking at the room from a different perspective. As class comes to a close, Keating announces that the boys are to write, and then read aloud, their own poems, privately telling Todd that he is quite aware how much this assignment must scare him.

In his room, Todd attempts to write a poem as Neil bursts in, full of excitement. He has discovered a flier for a community play of A Midsummer Night’s Dream, and intends to try out, realizing that he wants to be an actor. He says:

“For the first time in my whole life, I know what I wanna do! And for the first time, I’m gonna do it! Whether my father wants me to or not! Carpe diem!”

The next class, Keating takes the boys out to the field, handing them each a line of poetry. He begins an exercise where each boy must read aloud the line before running up and kicking a ball, one after another, while he plays classical music. Directly after, Neil blazes through the dorm, shouting that he’s secured the part in A Midsummer Night’s Dream, his enthusiasm undaunted by the fact that his father will never write the approval letter necessary. He forges the necessary letter from his father for the theater and the school principal as Todd looks on.

It is the next English class, and it is time to read the poems from the class. Knox, who has ridden his bike to Chris’s school to watch her at least once, reads aloud a poem dedicated to her. Other students read, and finally, it comes time for Todd’s turn.

Todd, as it turns out, hasn’t written a poem.

Undaunted, Keating brings Todd to the front of the class, covering his eyes and encouraging him, helping him create a poem on the spot. Todd’s spontaneous poem brings the class to applause, and Mr. Keating moves the class outside for some more ‘poetry in motion’.

At this point in the story, we’ve got a lot of information about quite a few characters.

Protagonists Todd and Neil, originally apparently the opposites of one another, are similar in pressures from home: Todd to be like his older brother, and Neil to follow the carefully laid plan that his father has set out for him. Neil is already moving outside of that plan, pursuing acting, and Todd, with some encouragement, manages to come up with an intense poem in front of an entire class, despite his shyness.

Even the other boys in the group have unique characterization: Charlie, the anything-for-a-joke class clown, Knox, the hopeless romantic, and Cameron, the reluctant tag-along. (Meeks and Pitts are there too, but they have far less screen time and personality than the rest of the DPS.) We as an audience are watching their growth and personal arcs after the catalyst that is John Keating.

Oddly enough, Keating is the main character that we spend the least amount of time with, and know the least about. We don’t know a lot about his home life, or what his background is, or what his thoughts are. All we see is his direct influence on the boys at the school, and his unintentional inspiration to restart the Dead Poets Society.

Speaking of which:

At the next Dead Poets Society meeting, Knox seems uneasy, announcing that he’s going to kill himself if he can’t be with Chris, and leaves the meeting to call her. The boys follow, cheering him on, as he makes the call, hanging up at first, before working up his nerve (Carpe Diem) to call her again. Chris invites Knox to a party, saying she was thinking about calling him, and elated, Knox accepts the invitation.

The next night is the night of the party. Knox heads off to the Danbury house, where he’s swallowed up by a rowdy crowd of teenagers. Soon enough, Knox (and everybody else) is at varying levels of intoxicated. Inhibitions loosened, Knox kisses the forehead of a passed-out Chris, enraging her boyfriend and starting a fight, ending the party abruptly.

Meanwhile, Todd is given the exact same birthday present as last year: a desk set that he didn’t even like, yet another sign of his parents not really paying attention to him. Neil, noticing Todd’s disappointment, cheers him up, throwing the desk set off the roof, before taking him to another Dead Poets Society Meeting, where Charlie (now insisting on being called Nuwanda) has brought girls in to impress them with poetry.

Charlie also announces that he published an article in the school newspaper demanding that girls be admitted to Welton, signing it the Dead Poets Society. The rest of the group is justifiably angry, afraid that this will put the school’s administration onto them.

Sure enough, at an assembly, Headmaster Nolan demands to know which of the students was responsible for the article. At first, none of the students come clean, until a phone rings.

Charlie picks it up, and announces that it’s from God, saying they should admit girls to Welton.

This prank inevitably ends with Charlie getting paddled in the Headmaster’s office (1959, remember?) and threatened with expulsion. Nolan wants the names of the other members of the Dead Poets Society, but Charlie won’t tell.

After dismissing Charlie, Nolan calls Keating in, questioning him about his teaching methods. Keating explains that he’s trying to teach the boys individualism.

“I always thought the idea of education was to learn to think for yourself.”

“At these boys’ age? Not on your life!”

Afterwards, Keating approaches the boys, specifically Charlie, and gently scolds him for his stunt.

“There’s a time for daring and there’s a time for caution, and a wise man understands which is called for,” he says, explaining that being stupid is not the same as being an individual.

This is a common theme of the entire story, actually. As much as Keating encourages free-thinking and exploration of ideas, he knows the difference between bucking authority for the sake of it versus nonconformity. Each of the boys is exploring this aspect in their own way, from Todd’s slow-growing confidence to Neil’s direct disobedience of his father’s oppressive plan to Charlie’s defiance, even to Cameron’s caution against ‘disobeying rules’. Dead Poets Society is a story about encouraging people to think for themselves, but to be wise about what they do once they start, and while some are more obvious than others (Charlie’s foolishness and Knox’s overzealousness contrasted with Cameron’s blind following of ‘the rules’, all portrayed as kind of problematic), some examples are more ambiguous.

Such is the case with Neil.

After a rehearsal for the play, Neil comes back to his dorm to find his father, very displeased with him. He’s incredibly angry about Neil joining the play, and instructs him to quit the play the next morning, the same day as the first performance. Upset, Neil goes to Mr. Keating’s office to ask him for advice.

Keating listens to him, and suggests trying to talk to his father, for Neil to show him how passionate he is about acting so that he will allow him to do the play, encouraging him to come to his father earnestly before the play.

On a slightly lighter note, Knox enters Chris’s high school and follows her to class with flowers, trying to apologize for the previous night. She’s understandably embarrassed and tells him that her boyfriend, Chet, is still upset with Knox and is out to get him. Undeterred, Knox follows her into class and reads a poem about Chris aloud, in front of all of her classmates.

Remember what I said about ‘wise’ ways to deal with free thinking?

A little later, Neil lies to Keating, telling him that he’s talked to his father, and that he’s allowed to stay in the play.

The next night, Keating and the boys prepare to go see Neil perform, with Chris even turning up and deciding to accompany Knox to the play. It’s well worth it. Neil is in his element, comfortable and dynamic on stage, and his classmates and teacher cheer him on, awestruck by his talent.

Before the last monologue, Neil spots his father, entering the theater. Clearly daunted, he goes out and sells his final monologue anyway, to the wild applause of the audience.

All but his father.

After the performance, Neil’s father brings him home, informing him that he is being pulled out of Welton, and enrolled into a military school, immediately followed by medical school. Neil attempts to argue, to plead his case, but his father shuts him down, and Neil stops arguing.

Later that night, after his parents go to bed, Neil sneaks into his parents’ room wearing his costume, opens the drawer, taking his father’s gun, before retreating to his father’s study and killing himself.

It is right here that the movie goes from a good, even average film about ‘seizing the day’ and living life to the fullest, to a great movie about the consequences of doing it.

In another movie, Neil’s father would have seen the performance and realized his son was right. Or if he hadn’t, Neil would have finally stood up for himself, and his parents might have seen the light.

In another film, Neil wouldn’t have died. Especially not like that.

It is this moment, this gear-switch, that the audience is forced to contend with the implications, the fallout of these actions, and that sometimes, even ‘seizing the day’ is impossible, depending on your circumstances.

It’s not an easy idea to swallow. It’s not one we’re used to in movies. But it’s here, nonetheless.

Back at Welton, the boys tearfully wake Todd up to tell him the news. Upset, Todd runs out into the snow, as the boys follow. He remarks on how beautiful the snow is before throwing up and breaking down, rushing into the snow alone. In the classroom, Mr. Keating paces empty desks, arriving at Neil’s and removing the poetry book he left for him with the Dead Poets Society inscription.

The next morning, it turns out that the fallout affects more than Neil.

Headmaster Nolan announces that he intends to conduct an investigation into what happened. The boys gather to talk as Nolan interrogates Cameron, the rule-abider. The remaining Dead Poets are certain that Cameron is going to sell them out, and sure enough, that’s exactly what he does. Cameron enters, telling the group that he told them everything, and that they all should too, as it’s too late to save Keating, but not to save themselves.

Charlie reacts to this by punching Cameron in the face, getting him expelled.

The next boy called in is Todd, who enters Nolan’s office to find his parents there, too. Nervously, he sits as Nolan tries to get Todd to sign a document blaming Mr. Keating for Neil’s death. Todd glances at the page: the rest of the Dead Poets have signed too.

Later, in English class, Headmaster Nolan arrives and announces that he will be teaching until they can find a permanent replacement for Keating. As he opens class (encouraging people to read the ‘excellent’ ripped out introduction from the book) Keating enters the room to collect his things. After long moments of silence of the boys keeping their heads down as Keating gathers his belongings, Todd finally breaks, calling out to Mr. Keating and telling him that the school forced them to sign the confession.

As Nolan tries to get him to sit down, Todd shouts out: “O Captain, My Captain”, and stands on his desk. Many other students follow, one by one, as Keating tearfully watches.

Keating gratefully thanks the boys, and the film ends on a closeup of Todd’s face, after he’s finally stood up for himself, and seized the day.

Make no mistake, this is not a happy ending. Keating is forced to leave the school. Neil has taken his own life, trapped into a lifetime he didn’t want. Charlie has been expelled, and it’s likely the rest of the boys will be too. This is a movie based on, and ending with, great uncertainty. Not every boy stood up. Not everyone is coming out of this okay.

The question is, what are we supposed to take away from this?

The message of the film, the core theme that people remember, is Seize the Day. And yet, of those who ‘Seize the Day’, very few come out of it unscathed, if any. Instead, people are left with heartbreak, making bad decisions or, even if the decisions may have been morally ‘right’, or what they felt they had to do, consequences must follow. Charlie’s overzealous sense of humor and bucking of authority gets him expelled. Knox’s over-the-top romanticization of Chris nearly drives her away and gets him in trouble. Neil kills himself because the restricting nature of his family won’t allow him to ‘Seize the Day’.

And Todd?

Todd finally speaks out, but too late to fix any of the damage.

Despite the focus on Mr. Keating in most of the promotional material, the protagonist of the movie is, of course, Todd. Once Neil dies, Todd is who we are left with, and it is Todd who changes from shy boy who won’t speak out to the leader of a final daring farewell to a teacher that changed his life. He’s the one that grows. He changes.

It’s just too little too late.

The story of Dead Poets Society is a sobering one, and not exactly a story you’d expect. The first two-thirds could have been part of any typical, ‘feel good’ teen drama about self-discovery, but the last third takes expectations and turns them on their head. This is real life: it doesn’t always work out. People get fired for trying to do the right thing. Parents don’t see the harmful impact they have on their children. People value rules and tradition over the dreams of the young.

It is in this devastating third act that Dead Poets Society earns its place as a classic: by refusing to allow the cliched beginnings to define its ending.

It would have been so easy to allow Neil to convince his father to allow him to act. It would have been simple to allow Keating to change the mind of the establishment, for the Dead Poets to take Welton by storm.

But real life doesn’t always work out like that. Sometimes, the way we go about ‘seizing the day’ can end badly depending on our circumstances and the wisdom in the method we choose. The film isn’t telling us how to do it right. It’s showing you the lives of people who did it wrong, or at least, who seized the day, tried to make their lives extraordinary, and failed, due to many different reasons.

But.

That doesn’t mean we should stop trying.

For every failure, for every mistake (Neil sneaking to do the play, Charlie’s pranks, etc.), Todd’s example stands above and beyond. Yes, he might get into trouble. But this moment, this act of telling a beloved teacher that his work was not in vain, that his students will remember him, that he was not to blame, feels right. This is what he is supposed to do.

We cheer for that moment, we feel the weight of the movie lift just a smidge, because in the end, we have to seize the day. We have to try to make our lives extraordinary, but we have to find the right way to do it, the wise way to do it.

Because, for all of the mistakes made, Keating is right: Words and ideas will change the world. It is up to us how to use them, when to use daring, or caution, and in the end, try to find the meeting place between doing what is right, and doing what is true to yourself.

The ending is uncertain, yes. But it’s the only satisfying ending that an honest movie could give us.

Dead Poets Society is an emotional story, bringing up questions about non-conformity and following the rules that go beyond a surface: ‘yes or no’. A gripping story full of great performances, a warm atmosphere, and immortal dialogue, Dead Poets Society will continue to be a testament to words as long as we care to use them.

In the articles ahead, we’re going to be taking a look at some of the other important elements of Dead Poets Society, so if you enjoyed this one, stick around and join us! Don’t forget to leave a comment, like, or some other form of love if you enjoyed it, and follow for more! Thanks so much for reading, and I hope to see you in the next article.

#1989 #80s #Dead Poets Society #Dead Poets Society 1989 #Comedy #Drama #Dylan Kussman #Ethan Hawke #Film #Gale Hansen #Josh Charles #Kurtwood Smith #Movies #Peter Weir #PG #Robert Sean Leonard #Robin Williams

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cupidmarwani-archive · 4 years

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CISHETS DNI //

Just because Eddie can’t enjoy the day doesn’t mean he’s going to take it away from his son. He’d do anything for Christopher, that’s no secret or surprise, and if that means spending the evening dealing with his flashbacks alone, he’s more than okay with that. Christopher deserves to have fun like everyone else- he deserves good food and a bottle of soda and a blanket spread out on his school’s football field while he watches their firework show. Buck agreed to take him before Eddie could even ask because he always knows. At some point, he’s going to have to do something about how much his heart aches every time Buck does something that makes their lives better without a second thought.

“It’s not a party without s’mores,” Buck says seriously, throwing a bag of jumbo marshmallows into the cart. They’re going to be eating at the school when they go, not long into the evening, but the s’mores are a treat for when they come home after the fireworks are over. Buck said this morning that it was important that Eddie get to be a part of something today, and hip-checked him as he flipped a pancake. “I promise I’ll teach you how to make the best ones, Chris.”

All the supplies, including skewers, are together, which makes the grocery trip a little easier. Unfortunately, however, that’s the seasonal section, which Eddie would do anything to get out of. It’s too much. The flag is printed on everything, from paper plates and napkins to apparel with a silhouetted solider on it, alongside a cursive “God Bless the Troops.” Eddie kind of wants to buy it just to light it on fire, but that’s a waste of money and time. Burning things isn’t going to erase his trauma or his anger. He glares at a hat emblazoned with “USA.” It reminds him of the recruiters at his school who promised that college would be so much easier after he served.

Buck glances at him as he considers a bag of candy. There’s worry written all over his face, but it’s gone almost as soon as it appears, and Buck says they need to go to the snack aisle right away. Christopher nods seriously and walks alongside his cart, fast enough to get them away, but slow enough that Chris has no trouble keeping up. At the very end of the aisle, however, something catches Eddie’s eyes. Ear plugs. They’re probably not that great, since they’re $5 on an impulse buy rack, but they’re better than nothing, so Eddie throws them into the cart as well. It’s not a big deal. Buck doesn’t make it one.

Most of the people in the store are dressed patriotically, wearing red white and blue if not outright flags. Shiny head pieces sway with the motion of their walking, flag patterned shorts stand out bright against the mostly beige color scheme of the floor and walls. It’s a little too much. Eddie pointedly doesn’t look at any of them, instead watching Christopher debate the merits of getting pringles instead of ruffles.

He flinches when something touches him, only to realize a moment later that it’s just Buck. His hand is light on Eddie’s hip, just touching as a way to bring him back to the moment. He’s safe here. These people don’t understand, but it’s not up to Eddie to make them, and he’ll be back home in twenty minutes, anyways. He’ll spend a few hours with his boys and it’ll be fine.

For the rest of the shopping trip, and probably the day, he’s quiet. It’s hard to put his feelings into words. Everyone is celebrating the country, regardless of the flaws inherent to its system, and using the military to do it. With them, Eddie is still the pawn he was overseas. Participating in a game he didn’t want to play, hurting people and watching his friends die for a cause he doesn’t know anything about, and left with bullet wounds in his skin, PTSD, and the faces of soldiers who will never open their eyes again. There’s nothing he could say that would feel enough to express all that in a succinct, non-confrontational way, so he processes it to the best of his ability internally. Frank would be proud. He doesn’t engage with those who give him and his clear stormy disposition a look, nor does he look at the red, white and blue mass-produced cupcakes that Chris begs him for. He says no, but mollifies Christopher with the promise of licorice.

The checkstand line is long, so Eddie picks Christopher up and holds him on his hip. He’s getting a little big for it, doesn’t usually give in to being carried anymore, but walking around the store can take a lot of energy and he’s clearly getting tired now. It makes Eddie feel a little better, too. He’s at home, he has his son, and he has Buck, who insisted on footing the bill for the snacks since “I promised Chris we’d get them, and you paid for the tickets to the school show, Eddie.” It’s almost alright.

But then they’re paying, the checker bagging up their snacks and making polite conversation. She doesn’t work late nights, which is when Eddie usually has a chance to do his shopping, so he doesn’t recognize her off the bat. She’s friendly enough though, laughing at a joke Buck makes until she picks up the ear plugs from the belt. With one look at Christopher’s child-size crutches in the cart, then at him in Eddie’s arms, she smiles in that patronizing “oh a special kid” way.

“The fireworks too loud for you, sweetie?”

“They’re for Daddy,” Christopher corrects cheerfully,

She gives Eddie a weird look, but doesn’t comment on it. instead, she finishes up scanning their items and returns her attention to Buck. “Your total is $34.67, would you like to round up to $35 to support our troops overseas? Every five dollars sends a home cooked meal to a soldier in Iraq.”

Buck looks at Eddie, the way he always does when it comes to these things. They talked about it, once. How most active-duty military funds are a scam. Eddie shakes his head.

“They don’t allow non-rations. Don’t.”

The checker seems irritated now.

“What’s your problem, man? Do you like, hate America?”

Buck jams his card into the reader to finish this interaction quickly.

“I hate people profiting off the images of soldiers, who are usually just cogs in a machine that serves to hurt innocent people because the government said so.”

Now the person in line behind them decides to join in, and Eddie wishes he could have just kept his mouth shut for once in his life. But that’s not the way he was raised, and this is a touchy enough subject to send his self control out the window.

“The troops fight for your freedom, son. Show some respect.”

Eddie turns around and narrows his eyes at the old man, wearing a tacky flag shirt. He feels a little cornered, can’t wait to get out of here, but he also knows exactly how satisfying it’ll be to open his mouth,

“I’m a fucking vet, man. I know what I’m talking about. You wanna talk about respect, I served overseas and nearly died getting my friends to safety more than once. Shut your fucking mouth.”

Chris cheerfully pulls dog tags out of his own little striped tee shirt. Eddie gave them to him shortly after they moved here, as though it’ll erase their painful connotations. Christopher has always thought they’re cool, and shows them off gleefully without really getting how tense things are at the moment,

“He has a silver star,” Chris adds smugly.

At that, Eddie leaves before things can escalate more. He needs air. His chest is hurting and this is exactly why he hates going out today, of all days. None of these people ever know what they’re talking about, what they’re really glorifying. What their fucking fireworks are doing to everyone they allegedly care so much about.

A few minutes later, Buck joins them. They sit there quietly on the bench for a while before Eddie decides to get up and go to the truck. He doesn’t need to defend himself, he thinks bitterly. Buck isn’t mad, Christopher isn’t mad. But it still sucks that this always happens when he says no to donating to those bullshit projects.

In the truck however, Buck holds his hand over the center console, and gives him a reassuring smile that helps his shoulders feel a little less tense.

#buddie #eddie diaz #mine #this is kinda rushed bc my mom says I gotta leave but here we go

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migleefulmoments · 5 years

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lmao Abby is losing her shit because Darren is gonna be singing White Christmas with Lea on her new Christmas album. Apparently that song is "sacred" and can only be sang by Darren and Chris. She seriously needs to get a grip.

Anonymous said: "I can be upset, I think it is a complete slap in the face. there are like 3000 christmas songs, there are THREE that are sacred. And yes, D should have sad no." Oh look Abby doesn't approve of something Darren is doing AGAIN. Seriously she claims to be his biggest fan but yet complains about everything he does.

Man, I didn’t see this coming. I’m amazed at how deeply emotional they are about a scripted, tv-show couple and a really old song! I might understand if Abby was a lesbian teenager and this was 2011. It was empowering for gay, lesbian and bisexual kids and young adults to turn on network tv and see people that looked liked them. But times they have a changed. Klaine and Brittana pushed boundaries, but in 2019 there are LGBTQ characters on many shows, Netflix has LGBTQ programing and Ryan Murphy continues to create shows that specifically tell LGBTQ stories-ie Pose and he has created LGBTQ characters for all of his shows because that’s life. He’s continues to normalize LGBTQ characters on his shows: 911 has a main character who is a married lesbian, The Politician has gay characters and its been reported that Rock Hudson will be a character in Hollywood.

So here we are in 2019 and Abby is devastated that the sacred White Christmas will be covered by Darren and Lea on her new Christmas album. First off, why is the song sacred? Abby mentioned the “Bryant Park riot”-a riot we know never happened. The people “holding the fandom together” were not in the cc fandom when Chris and Darren filmed in Bryant Park. Their “memories” of that day have all been created by watching a few moments of the 11-hour day. I’ve come to realize that the cc theory is built on slowed-down gifs and screenshots. Reality looks nothing like cc so they manipulate the facts to fit their needs. It’s a powerful method because it is so easy to con people into believing inane facts. I am sure that Abby and Flowers and Cassie and Leka fully believe everything they hold near and dear about CrissColfer. It’s all a lie but they fully believe they are throwing out tried-and-true proven facts. Abby in particular is really baffled why we can’t see what she see. The difference between them and us is that we don’t listen with our eyes. We don’t get information about Darren and Mia by piecing together gifs. That’s it-gifs and screenshots from videos! Can you imagine if a lawyer a police officer used a gif as evidence?

Nobody set out to con the tinhatters into believing a fantasy that doesn’t exits-in fact, nobody is conning the fandom-they are conning themselves. They don’t look at the evidence and form an opinion- they literally create the evidence. Zoom in a photo until you can crop out what you need or clip 1-2 seconds from a longer video, slow it down, add some text and suddenly *BAM* you have proof! Proof with all the drama and emotion to make it feel so much more important than it was.

How the shit hit the fan:

Leka:

jaci3

I will definitely be purchasing this album! So much talent! Cynthia!! Darren!! Jonathan and Lea!!

notes-from-nowhere

I’m going to take this as a good news👍🏻

ajw720

But no, no, no no. Do not get me wrong, I am thrilled D is on the album, but no, no, no, not a K/laine song. Why? There are so many Christmas songs out in the world and they chose a K/laine song?

I have no interest, it can never live up.

I hate 2019.

DRAMA MUCH?

Thanks, but it’s a hard pass for me.

ajw720

I actually have tears in my eyes. This feels like a complete slap in the face. Sorry, but it is and it should not have been this song and I don’t care what you believe, Those songs are sacred to the K/laine fandom whether you think he is married to her or with C or something completely different.

How many Christmas songs are there to choose from? If she wanted WC, she could have sang it with someone else.

With you @cassie1022 hard pass. It may seem silly to be this upset about something, but this actually makes me angry. I feel like K/laine fans are being discarded. That is his LEGACY, something he should be proud of, through that character and that pairing, he and C made a difference, and I do not understand why it needs to constantly be chipped away.

I have to say the thing that strikes me the most is how obtuse she is about what Glee was the end. It was a mess. I loved Glee but most of the fun by the end was the amazing fanfiction, Fanon Klaine and fandom itself. It was fun to get the song sneak peeks and BTS photos and videos. It was amazing to be a part of a fandom of people who loved what I did. It is amazing to be part of the Chris and Darren stanclub. But Glee...it was a disaster. .

Leka proves some context for “White Christmas is Sacred” and notice how how many are gifs:

leka-1998

Excuse you.

WC is so much more than just a song.

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youtube

(She does know this is a scripted moment right? Darren didn’t actually travel to NYC from Lima with Chris’s dad and someone told him when to skate, what to say, what to sing.).

“It’s been a whirlwind, but amazing. We got to film at the ice skating rink in Bryant Park, which was just incredible. It was one of the best filming experiences I’ve ever had.”

- Ch/ris Col/fer

(Yes, Darren laid down on the carpet and took a picture of Chris which was about the most cc thing that happened in 11 hours)

(I have no doubt that these three gifs were created from 1 or 2 seconds of real-time video. These images created the false impression that they spent the day together, gleefully skating and being intimate. Not too long ago, I read a cc post that claimed “Darren spent the day taking care of Chris”. No, not true- see the videos below for a more realistic representation of the day). )

#truly this really upsets me

(I guess she is reminding us of how much they mean to the world- eye roll.)

I tried finding a long video on YouTube-ideally much of the day or even just big chucks of the day but *surprise* nobody bothered to upload that snooze fest. If the day was actually the cc riot the posse believes it was, there would be an 11-hour complication video.

I did find some video that accurately represents what I remember. Basically just imagine 11 hours of the following:

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youtube

Chris was pretty shaky when they started skating but by the time they filmed, he was much better. I cannot imagine being on skates for 11- shaky- hours.

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youtube

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youtube

Chris skating alone, trying to get more comfortable with skating before filming.

That’s it! That s the totality of what is posted on YouTube from the “Riot”.

The conversation continues;

Anonymous asked:

White Christmas is literally one of the most cliché christmas songs. The album is just Lea's favorites. Darren has sung White Christmas before and he sounded amazing so it's only natural she would invite him to sing it with her. I get the a lot of things can be frustrating, but good god you all being THIS upset about it is the reason why everyone mock our fandom. It's not even baby it's could outside. At least we know for sure chris is going to be mentioned at some point during the promo.

ajw720 answered: (in victim mode)

Why do you care if I am this upset? Seriously, let them mock me, they have blogs dedicated to hating me and posts multiple times a day. I am over it, they are the ones with the sad lives who actually give me power.

(Nope, not dedicated to “hating you”, I simply debunk your “facts” and “proof” beaus they are not evidence of CrissColfer; Yes, this is unfortunately a negative side effect to disproving your lies- you don’t care if the attention is negative or positive- you just like the attention. But pointing out the lies and misinformation is more important to me )

I can be upset, I think it is a complete slap in the face. there are like 3000 christmas songs, there are THREE that are sacred. And yes, D should have sad no. We sit here and swallow everything, including having “D” himself mock and yell at our fandom on SM. And I virtually defend everything he does, probably to a fault, including holding out that person as his wife. This was easily avoidable.

(well at least you acknowledge that Darren calls out your fandom for their bad behavior on social media. Now would be a good time to really analyze why you think that is. Really sit down and think about why Darren would mock your fandom without a gif or a screenshot to zoom in on. What would drive him to be angry at a ccer?) .

Sorry, not sorry, don’t like, post on your own blog and stop reading mine if you don’t like the way i represent. Happy to pace the torch.

(Wow she is happy to pass the torch? Right. )

notes-from-nowhere

(Notes comes in and tries to soothe Abby’s fragile nerves).

So, I feel the need to say something. I’m not that much upset for the song mostly because I think it may be the song D picked out if those presented to him so I don’t fully like the idea but it could have been worse. At least all of the involved knows the meaning of the song.

What bothers me though is this kind of attitude, anon. This urgency to come here and to tell to another person what/how/when she should feel about something. Trying to put a weight on it or to dismissed the rightfulness of her feelings.

If this is how she (and everyone else) feels about this, she has the right and the freedom to say it out loud without having to face someone else’s judgement because maybe she has another opinion.

(and the anon has the right to say what she feels-see how that works?)

There are different ways to approach a person to communicate so please next time, think better.

ajw720

Thank you @notes-from-nowhere, hard to believe, the above was at least more respectful than this anon:

This is why I left the fucking fanbase. I still very much agree with the same views and ideas that all of you have, but jesus christ, it’s a SONG. Calm down. I’m just happy whenever D does something that doesn’t envolve PBB. Getting so upset because D is singing a song that he sang with C. Maybe he’s doing it because it reminds him of the Bryant Park shoot? Maybe? Good god, everything is the apocalypse to you guys. Leaving was the best thing I’ve ever done.

I want to remind everyone, I am the one, with a handful of people, keeping this fandom alive and supporting D&C daily,. And just like i can praise them, i can tell them when they hurt me. This hurt. Maybe I am being overly dramatic and if this was isolated, i would say yes. This is not isolated, it is a continued effort to erase K/laine and CC. As has been pointed out, not only did they offend K/laine fans in general, it is a knock at our fandom who still to this day celebrate the skating riot.

(Oh lord, she reminds us she is the HBIC, sacrificing everything to keep the fandom together. I love that she believes this is “supporting D&C daily”. Nobody needs to be told the suck everyday. She support them and so she can criticize them but nonnie cannot criticize her. That makes perfect sense)

Again literally THOUSANDS of songs to choose from. Not even sure why L would EVER want to compete with C, but in this case, the fault doesn’t lie with her. D should have said no.

(I don’t think Lea is too worried about putting up her vocal chops against Chris’. The both have great voices)

I am not going to say anything else and just accept that yet another of D’s 2019 projects is something i won’t ever see or hear.

(once again it’s all about her and her hurt feelings. But this response is at least rationale-if you don’t like the project- skip it. It isn’t Darren’s responsibly to provide 100% Abby approved content)

I really hope things are going to change, I really, really do.

(But they aren’t..they really aren’t. This is Darren’s life and I know it’s super stressful because you are trying to hard to make his life work with yours and it just won't You both have very conflicting and opposing goals for Darren’s life. Here’s a protip: Go on a gif-free and zoomed-photo-free diet for a few months. Analyze the information at face value. Learn what PR really means and see how things look.If for no other reason than your own sanity. Stop trying to shove the square peg in the round hole

#please do not send any more asks on this topic

#i am very upset

ajw720

My feelings aside, WHY in the world would LM EVER want to compete with this? Sorry, but it won’t be half as good. Stupid move and that is trying to remove my bias.

(Her thought processes never ceases to amaze me. Abby and Trump- they start criticizing and they just can’t stop. Lea gets to make her own decisions about what songs she sings, who she’s competitive with, whether she wants to take a chance and put herself out there or not. It just isn’t anyone else’s business. Chris has a beautiful voice but Lea has a stunning voice-she isn’t worried. This is right up there with her criticisms of TSG’s air conditioning, drink names, theme nights and every comment she’s made about a bar she will never go to.

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edensgay · 6 years

Text

Violets

Violets: A Joey Hudson Fanfiction

Relationship: Joey Hudson x OFC!Deputy

Rating: All Ages!

Summary: Joey is still figuring out who she is.

Warnings: Gay! SO GAY! Do not read if you’re not okay with that. Cursing, homophobia, slurs, death.

Word Count: 4928

Author’s Note: This is just the beginning of Joey and Madeline! This is mostly establishing who Joey is as a person. I’m so excited about this, y’all! The Deputy isn’t yet the Deptuy in this fic, but she will be.

It’s no secret that being gay in a small town is difficult. There’s maybe only two thousand people in all of Hope County, and that’s being generous. Joey Hudson grew up in Falls End, which had a grand total of about forty-five in it's entirety, again, being generous.

Joey’s thirteen when she first realizes that being gay is even an option. She'd grown up a bit sheltered, although it wasn’t purposeful. That’s just how it was in rural Montana, they were a little behind the times and it wasn’t something people talked about.

It’s October of 1998 and her families small television is on a random news channel, the two people on the screen are arguing about a boy who was the suspected victim of a hate crime in Wyoming. Her father is grumbling incomprehensible nonsense at the television. Her mother shakes her head and turns it off before heading into the kitchen to cook dinner.

Joey doesn't know what a hate crime is. She asks her mom about it and her mom tells her that it's when someone hurts someone because of a prejudice. All her friends are boy crazy, at least that’s what her mother says. She says that she raised Joey with a good head on her shoulders and that’s why she isn’t buying into the boy craze like all her friends. Her father says he’s glad because if any boy came near his precious daughter he’d have to put the fear of God into them.

Her friends are going over a copy of Dolly, reading about The 99 Hottest Guys to Watch in 99. She agrees without enthusiasm when one of her friends tears out a picture of Prince William and says she’s going to marry him. When two of her friends start arguing over who the hottest member of the new band N’Sync is she sides with one of them at random.

When she’s fifteen she has her first kiss, one of her friends is going on a date with a senior boy and wants practice. When Joey’s lips meet her friends for a few clumsy seconds she feels a puzzle piece slip into place and all of a sudden it makes sense.

Joey is gay.

Her father is sick, her mother says it’s lung cancer. The doctors give him eight months at the most, Joey is a few months shy of sixteen when she’s told her father will die.

In 2001 Joey realizes how fleeting life can be. The world changes forever when the towers fall from the sky, the world gets a painful reminder that nothing is forever. She watches as her mother calls Joey’s grandmother for the first time in almost seventeen years. Her mother’s hands shake as she dials the number and makes amends, life is too short to hold grudges.

It’s in that moment Joey makes a choice.

“Momma, I’m gay.” She blurts out, her voice feeling too loud in the suddenly deafening silence of the house. It’s the first time she’s said it out loud and she feels a weight lifted from her chest.

Her mother blinks at her, her eyes owlish as if she isn’t certain that she heard Joey right and is trying to process it.

“I’m gay.” Joey repeats, her voice is stronger now.

Her mother nods slowly. “Okay.”

Joey’s heart soars, for a split second her world seems brighter. Her secret is out and it feels fucking incredible.

“Don’t tell your father.”

Her heart sinks.

“This’ll only worsen his condition.”

Joey can’t stomach the thought of lying to her dying father, but she doesn’t want to make things worse. She nods her head and agrees to do as her mother has asked.

The idea of her being gay somehow making her father sicker puts a heavy burden on her. She watches everything she says and tiptoes around the man she'd once been close to. When she was little he would pick her up and play airplane with her. When she got older he took her hunting with him, teaching her everything he knew.

Her father dies two months later and Joey can’t help but feel guilty knowing that he died without knowing his daughter. She feels even more guilty that shes secretly relieved, she no longer has to walk on her toes at home.

Her mother has asked her a few times if she’s sure this isn’t a phase. She points out that Joey hasn’t even tried dating a boy yet so how can she really be sure? Their whispered conversations instill a sense of shame in Joey.

Joey promises to try, because her mother is all that she has left in the world.

She’s asked to prom by a boy named David. She wants to say no but she doesn’t because she can’t get the image of her mothers smiling face asking her to please just try out of her head. She allows him to take her to prom, she allows her mother to squeal over how cute the two of them are together and take pictures. She even allows him to stick his tongue down her throat, because she has to try.

After that Joey knows it isn’t a phase.

Her mother doesn’t ask about the boy after prom. They don’t talk about it but her mother knows.

It’s 2003, she’s almost eighteen now and she has to make a decision, she has to grow up.

Her and her mother are having breakfast at a local diner to celebrate her birthday. A rejected half melted candle sits on the edge of her plate of pancakes.

Her mother asks if Joey’s put in anymore thought about her future. She hasn’t.

In the diner a boy who she vaguely recognizes as a kid two years below her is eating alone at the breakfast bar. She knows of the kid, she’s heard the rumors. Joey’s never been one to care about rumors, but now that she’s graduating in two weeks she cares even less.

Further down sits Sheriff Whitehorse, sits a few stools down. He’s already on his second cup of burnt coffee.

Her mother reaches into her purse and hands her a wrapped rectangle with a smushed blue bow. She opens it slowly, trying to avoid making a loud noise as she tears the paper. It’s a book entitled If not, winter. She stares at it for a minute, trying to understand.

“Open it.” Her mothers encouraging voice says in a soft tone, as if she doesn’t want anyone else to hear.

She opens the book and flicks through a few pages, her eyes land on the word lesbian and widen into saucers. Her mother meets her deer in the headlights look with a soft smile, her mother accepts her.

The fact that her mother has done this small gesture brings tears to her eyes, she'd been okay with her mom knowing and not having anything to say. But to have her mom's full support makes a warmth spread through her chest. Her mother accepts her.

A group of boys who will walk the stage with her in a few weeks enter the dinner, their laughter is deafening in the quiet of the diner. The bell above the door jingles proudly, signalling their arrival. The group of boys snag a booth, shoving each other as they all squirm into the worn seats.

At the sound Joey snaps the book shut and sits it on her lap, terrified of anyone knowing it’s contents. It's her secret and she must keep it, she has to.

One of them notices the kid at the breakfast bar and his eyebrows raise, the group takes on an uncharacteristic silence as they whisper to themselves and look in the kids direction. Joey can feel the trouble coming, the boys exude mayhem. She sends a thank you to God that the Sheriff is there.

The Sheriff gets up and goes to the bathroom.

So it begins.

The boys shove one of their friends from the booth, laughing like excited children as they watch him approach the kid.

“Hey, Chris,” The senior says, pretending to be nervous. He shuffles his feet and plays with his hair in over exaggerated motions.

The kid, Chris, glances over his shoulder and mumbles something in acknowledgment.

“Well, I was wondering… If maybe you wanted to go behind the bleachers and make out?” The senior can hardly keep a straight face as he asks, his face growing red from trying to hold back his laughter.

Chris lets out a small sigh and gets up, leaving a few bucks on the counter for his half eaten breakfast. He makes for the door but isn't allowed to leave.

“Michael, please leave me alone.” Chris says, a desperate note in his voice.

Michael laughs, glancing over at his friends for encouragement. “What’s wrong queer-boy?”

Joey flinches at the word as if he'd directed it at her. Her knuckles are white from how tight she’s gripping her fork. She should do something, she knows she should but she doesn’t. Joey is a coward.

She nearly jumps out of her skin when she feels a gentle hand wrap around hers, she glances at her mom and sees the sympathetic look on her face. Her heart twists.

Her mother is asking her not to get involved, because she knows that if she did the same fate would befall her.

Michael jabs a finger into the younger boys boney chest. “Am I not your type?” It isn’t a friendly question, or even a joking one. His words are like razors, the boy flinching as the words cut into him.

Chris ducks under Michael and runs for the door, causing the group of teenage boys to let out loud whoops as they abandon their table. The chase is now on. He doesn’t make it two feet away from the entrance before he’s tackled to the ground. The older boys all gathered around him, shouting slurs as they gleefully landed kicks on him.

Those same words mar the metal of the boys locker, forcing him to wear his shame like a scarlet letter. It shouldn't be shameful, but it is.

With each word and each kick Joey flinches, had she not been so careful that could just as easily be her. But it isn't, it's someone else and she's standing passive-watching it happen.

When she sees red on the sidewalk she finally gets the courage to stand, but she’s interrupted by a low voice behind her before she exits the booth.

“Tha hell?” It’s the Sheriff and he’s staring at the spectacle with a confused look on his face.

It takes him a second but he’s out the door in a flash, yelling and scaring the bullies off. Chris lay curled up in a ball, his face isn’t visible but the small puddle of blood seems to be trickling from somewhere around there.

Sheriff Whitehorse gently brings the kid to his feet and helps him back into the diner. “Donna, grab me some napkins and a bag of ice, please.” He asks the waitress as he sets the kid into a booth.

The Sheriff starts analyzing the kids wounds as he waits for the napkins and ice. Chris is swaying in his seat as if he’s about to pass out. Joey’s a coward, she could have stopped them.

When she sees the Sheriff start cleaning the kids wounds she realizes she doesn’t want to be a coward.

“I’m gonna apply at the Sheriff’s Office, momma.”

She walks the stage two weeks later, and as soon as the ceremony is over she heads to the Sheriff’s Office.

She will help people, she refuses to live the rest of her life as a coward.

It’s 2004 when she completes her training and becomes a Junior Deputy. The first thing she does is work a Sheriff’s Office booth at the Testy Festy. She hands out stickers to the kids while they stand bored as their parents complain to Whitehorse or thank him for all that he’s done.

One of the kids accepts the badge shaped sticker and immediately sticks it onto his shirt, wearing it with pride. He swears that one day he’s going to become a Deputy just like her. Her heart swells as she pats little Staci Pratt on the shoulder and sends him on his way.

She gets her first tattoo in 2008, it is above her heart and says ‘It is what you love’ in flowing script. Under it is a violet, it’s long stem underlining the words. The artist doesn’t question it, instead he says it’s a pretty idea.

Her mother has happy tears in her eyes when she shows her. After all these years her mothers support brings her to tears.

In 2011 Staci Pratt becomes the newest Junior Deputy.

Joey is twenty-six now and has never told anyone but her mother about her secret. She has never had a boyfriend as hasn’t kissed anyone since she was seventeen. Earlier in the year an attempt to repeal the law prohibiting sodomy, failed. In the state of Montana same-gender sex was still considered sodomy.

Joey Hudson was a Deputy at the Hope County Sheriff’s Office in Montana. Her job was to uphold the law and she was gay, in Montana being gay was a crime.

The department throws a small birthday party for Sheriff Whitehorse, it’s held at Joey’s house. It's the first time she's let any of her co-workers into her house, she's nervous that they might uncover some of her secrets.

As her guests walk through her house they analyze everything, Joey is reclusive and none of them know much about her. They greedily drink in every item on her shelves in an attempt to uncover her secrets.

Nancy points out that she must really love poetry, considering the sheer volume of prose that litters her shelves. Joey is uncomfortable and quickly changes the subject by offering everyone beer.

Her secret is safe.

It’s mid 2012 when it’s not safe. She has just arrested Sharky Boshaw for setting off illegal fireworks. He keeps making passes at her and jokingly- or at least she hopes it's jokingly- offering up his body for a lighter sentence.

When she doesn’t so much as flinch or acknowledge his words he says “Are you a lesbian or something? ‘Cause the Boshaw charm always works.”

He must see it in her face, the instant panic that fills her eyes as her body stiffens with dread.

His eyes soften and he goes “Just kiddin. Though I ain’t got no problem with it, Dep.” He gives her a soft smile and a cheeky wink as she tucks him into the back of her cruiser.

Sharky maintains an uncharacteristic silence as they head back to the Sheriff's Office.

In 2013 she is at the Spread Eagle, drinking with Pratt. They’re celebrating his twenty-first birthday with a few of their other work friends. A bar fight breaks out and it leaves a man bleeding on the floor.

He’s groaning to himself and fighting off Pratt who had tried to help him. The drunk on the floor goes by Ace, though his birth name is Floyd. He frequents the drunk tank, sleeping there like it's his second home. Every time he sees Joey he grabs her ass, Staci is pinning him down and keeping him as far away from her as he can.

The other man is being held back by Joey, though he’s still swearing at the bleeding man. It’s a typical Saturday night, there are never any charges pressed, it’s just what happens in a small town.

“I’m fine, get off me, Joey.” He’ll be in the drunk tank tomorrow.

His name is Lonnie, they are on a first name basis.

Someone must have called emergency services because there’s EMT’s walking through the door, they’re a little late but considering the only hospital in the area is thirty minutes away it’s forgivable.

Joey walks back over to Pratt and sighs, bumping his shoulder with hers. Their life exists only in this cycle, Hope County is too small for anything exciting to ever happen. Sometimes she thinks about escaping and moving somewhere with bright lights and more than one or two paved roads.

Her mother thinks it would be good for her, maybe if she moved somewhere like California she could fall in love. Her mom has become almost suffocatingly supportive, she loves it. She has small potted violets all over her house, gifts from her mother, cultivated with love.

Sometimes Joey entertains the idea, but she knows she will never move. The drunk on the floor squirms as the EMT’s try to stop the bleeding and take care of him, his arms flail about causing the two medics to let out low swears. One of them groans as she stumbles away from the man, one of his flailing limbs had connected with her eye.

Joey immediately goes to help. She was in work mode, all hopes of having a good night forgotten. Mary May gives Joey a sympathetic look as she hands her a bag of ice and a beer.

The beer is a reminder that Joey is a person outside of being a Deputy, it's a reminder she needs.

“Here.” She says, offering the girl the bag.

The EMT looks up at her, squinting as she tries to figure out who Joey is. “Thanks.” She mumbles, accepting the ice with a grimace.

The two sit in awkward silence for a minute before Joey speaks up. “Do you want to press charges?”

The girl cocks her head and thinks for a minute before shaking her head. “Nah, it happens. Beats getting stuck with a needle that was just in someone else.”

Joey can’t help but look at the girls hair, the white streak standing out against the rest of her curly brown locks catching her eye. She makes eye contact with the girl and realizes that the girl had caught her staring, her face heats up as she looks anywhere but at the girls face. A few drops of blood on the girls pristine white shirt catch her eye.

“It’s called poliosis, my mom and grandma have it too.” She’s gotten the looks many times, she knew what they meant and had rehearsed her response since she was four.

When she was little her mom got phone calls every year from her schools, asking her to please not dye her child’s hair. She’d sigh and tell them she hadn’t dyed it and that she wasn’t going to dye it to match the rest of her hair.

Joey nodded, taking a sip of her beer to quell the embarrassment that was blooming in her chest.

“I’m Joey, I’m a Deputy for Hope County.” She said, giving the girl a tight smile.

“I figured you were law enforcement when you asked if I wanted to press charges.” The EMT grumbles, wincing as she rolls her eyes.

Joey’s face falls a little.

“I’m Madeline. I just moved here a week ago.” The girl gave her an apologetic smile.

That explained it, in a place as small as Hope County everyone knew everyone. She’d definitely remember seeing someone as pretty as Madeline.

‘That was gay, Joey.’ Her brain hums.

"Want a beer?" She asked, immediately cursing herself.

The girls brown eyes widened before settling into another squint. "Sadly I'm on the clock for another twenty hours."

Joey nodded, fiddling with the label on her beer. She didn't know why she'd asked, it was obvious that she was still working.

“So, uh, you get stabbed a lot?” Why did she ask that? Was it possible for her to not be stupid for five minutes?

The girl, Madeline, giggles. “It's shocking how many people resist when you’re trying to save their life.”

Okay, maybe, her stupidity wasn't that bad. Madeline's giggle was like music to her ears; she hadn't been to church in years but the sudden presence of an angel in front of her made her wonder if she should go back.

Joey snorts and shakes her head. “Trust me, I have some stories of my own.” She takes a sip of the beer and remembers the few wild things that have happened over the last nine years.

“Yeah? Maybe we should have some drinks sometime and talk about the dangers of being good people.”

She splutters at the invitation, beer dribbling down her chin as she tries to process what Madeline had said. Was she asking her on a date? Was Madeline gay? Had Joey finally met another woman who liked women? She could sing she was so excited.

“I could use some friends.” Madeline said, quickly correcting herself.

The small glimmer of hope she’d felt when she thought Madeline could be gay was quickly crushed. Joey’s heart clenched a little but she smiled nonetheless. “Sure, that’d be fun.”

“Ready to head out?” Madeline’s partner asks, saving Joey from having to stumble through anymore conversation.

Madeline nods, pulling the now half melted bag of ice away from her eye. “See you around, Joey.”

As she walks away Joey notices something on her arm poking out from under her sleeve, the dark ink contrasting with the pristine white of her shirt. The tattoo looked suspiciously like a bust of Sappho, one that sat on a shelf at Joey's home. Maybe Madeline was into women, or it could be that she just really liked poetry. Joey hoped it was the former.

Joey and Staci stay for a few more hours, during that time Staci ends up having more alcohol than he can handle. By the end of the night he’s standing on a table belting out the words to Jolene.

She ends up half carrying him out to her car so she can drive him home. He’s mumbling mostly incoherent things but as she tucks him into the front seat and is buckling him up one thing he says stands out.

“That EMT girl was cute.” He slurs his words but due to Joey’s own curiosity about the girl she picks them out with ease.

“Let’s get you home.” She says in response.

He grabs her arm before she pulls away, he stares at her through a fog but there’s an intensity in his gaze. “Y’know I love you no matter what right?” He mumbles before dropping her arm.

Joey pauses, wondering if Pratt knows too, and the idea doesn’t bother her. The realization floors her.

He’d been like a little brother to her for the past few years, ever since he was sixteen he’d started showing up at the office and helping out with whatever he could. He’d done a bunch of volunteer work with the department and as soon as he turned eighteen he’d applied. Joey had been his mentor and the two had reached family levels of closeness.

A week later Joey and Staci are having lunch in the same diner where Joey had realized what she wanted to do with her life. The place holds a special spot in her heart.

“Hey! EMT girl!” Pratt shouts, Joey’s head immediately swivels around to look at the door where a confused looking Madeline is squinting as she tries to figure out who Staci is.

Her eye has a faint bruise around it, but it isn’t swollen. The slight discoloration is the only thing that proves that last week actually happened. Joey had begun to worry that the angel that invaded her thoughts was a figment of her imagination.

She’s in casual clothing now, a green cardigan with light blue jeans and cowboy boots. Joey decides that casual is a good look on her. She wonders why she cares so much about what she’s wearing and her brain tells her that it’s because she thinks Madeline is cute.

“Hey?” ‘EMT Girl’ as Staci had called her, looks completely lost, Joey feels a bad for her.

Madeline takes her eyes off of Staci and looks at Joey, her eyes immediately lighting up with recognition. “Hey!” She says smiling at both of them as Staci waves her over.

As she approaches Joey notices that Staci is suddenly taking up his entire side of the booth, spreading out as much as he can. “Sit with us!” He says, her only option being beside Joey.

Madeline looks at Joey, asking for permission before sliding into the seat as soon as Joey scoots over to make room.

Joey mouths 'bastard' at Staci when Madeline isn't looking, he smirks in response.

“What’s your name again?” Staci asks, tilting his head innocently at her.

Joey knows that Staci knows Madeline’s name, because he’s been mentioning her to Joey nonstop for the last week. Joey acts like she doesn’t care but every time Staci mentions the girl her heart jumps a little bit.

“Madeline Reese.” She gave him a sheepish smile, “I don’t remember your name either.”

“Staci Pratt.”

The waitress comes over and takes Madeline’s order which is just a grilled cheese with fries and a cup of coffee. Staci and Joey have a conversation with their eyes, Joey is giving Staci a warning look while he waggles his eyebrows at her.

The three make casual conversation, the entire time Staci is asking Madeline personal questions and sending looks to Joey when he thinks Madeline isn’t looking. Joey is certain that Madeline has noticed because Pratt refused to be subtle.

After they’re done with their food Pratt gets up to go to the bathroom, leaving Madeline and Joey alone. Once he leaves Joey realizes he was being her wingman, or at least trying to. Considering that she’d never actually come out to him and that neither of them were sure if Madeline was into women he’d done his best.

The two sit in silence until Madeline speaks up.

“He’s cute.” She says awkwardly and Joey’s stomach sinks. Madeline chuckles and shakes her head as she stares in the direction of the bathroom.

“Straight people really don’t know how to act, huh?” She follows up, her voice low as she turns to look at Joey. She has a cheeky smile on her face as she looks over the woman beside her.

“What?” Joey splutters in response. She’s not denying it but part of her thinks that she hallucinated Madeline saying that because she can’t believe the girl she hasn’t been able to get off of her mind for the last week isn’t straight.

Madeline looks uncertain for a minute. “They always try to get the few gay people they know together.” She explained, there’s a look of fear in her eyes as she stares at Joey.

Joey stares blankly in response, still unable to comprehend that the beautiful woman beside her likes women.

“Shit, you’re not? Fuck. I’m so sorry, dude. I didn’t mean anything by it-” She starts backtracking, she looks genuinely scared now as she edges her way out of the booth.

“No!” Joey answers, her voice high pitched and strained as she forces herself to do something, to say anything.

Madeline pauses, halfway out of the booth, still looking like she’s going to run. “I am.” Joey admits. The relief in the air is palpable, as the two grin at each other like morons. That’s how Staci finds them when he comes back from the bathroom, if he had taken his sweet time time washing his hands and fixing his hair well, who cared.

“Do you wanna grab coffee sometime?” Madeline asks, ignoring the fact that Staci has slid back into his seat and is watching them with a shit eating grin.

Joey’s heart flutters. “I’d love to.” She has a date, her first since she was a teenager.

“Great! Here, I’ll give you my number.” Madeline pulls a pen out of the pocket of her cardigan and writes down her number in loopy numbers, Joey notes the way her sevens have lines through them. She writes hers the same way.

“I’ll call you.” Joey promises, beaming dumbly as she shoves the napkin in her pocket, taking care to make sure it's safe.

Madeline nods eagerly before saying goodbye. Joey watches in awe as she leaves, she doesn’t look away from the door until Staci clears his throat.

“You’re welcome.” He says. He looks like the cat that ate the canary, causing Joey to lean across the table and smack his arm.

“Shut up.” She grumbles, but she doesn’t mean it. She’s on cloud nine thinking about her future date with Madeline.

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welcometophu · 6 years

Text

Not Your Love Song: Chapter 4

Marked Book 2: Not Your Love Song

Chapter 4

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It’s easier to tell the story every time he does it. Even so, Pawel’s disapproval comes clearly through the screen. “You should have told me,” he says. There’s a shout somewhere in the distance, and Pawel holds up one finger. “Hold that thought.” He turns away, yells, “Conor, be careful.”

By the time Pawel’s attention returns, Rory hopes he has his expression schooled into some kind of remorse. Or apology. He’s not sure exactly what he should be going for here, but severe discomfort is probably not it.

“I didn’t mention it at first because I thought it would fade,” Rory says. It’s only partly a lie. He thought that night that maybe it would fade, that it was some kind of backlash from how things went wrong for Ángel and Hayley. “Then I just—” He shrugs. There’s no excuse, and he knows it. It’s been three weeks, and that’s three weeks too long. Longer, if he’s talking about the altercation with the shadow. “But now you know. All of it. So life’s kind of complicated magically right now. On the other hand, I’m surrounded by Mages and a lot of reading material.”

“Don’t put much stock in what the shadow said, Rory.” Pawel leans on his desk, intent on the camera, like he’s staring right at Rory. “You know it was trying to intimidate us. The way it talked about Alaric’s parents was specifically designed to goad Theobald into action. It wanted you to let go, so it tried to scare you into thinking you were taking something from it. It knows you don’t want to be coerced or potentially tied to it.”

“Her,” Rory says. “And I get that, but it all came out too easily. No one lies that well, and no one lies to Clan that easily. I lived with Alaric, and he smells lies, hears them in my heartbeat. I can’t get away with anything when he’s around.”

“It’s a shadow, Rory,” Pawel reminds him. “Insubstantial. It doesn’t have a scent or a heartbeat.”

“I think you’re underestimating exactly what she is,” Rory mutters. “But fine. Maybe she lied, or maybe she didn’t.” He looks down at the smudge on his wrist. It reminds him of the shadow in some ways, although not nearly as dark.

“You’re planning on being a part of Coven again this spring, right?” Pawel asks. There’s a crash in the background, and Pawel winces, starts to turn away before gritting his teeth into a stiff smile and keeping his attention on Rory.

“You have to go. I get it. I’ve got a bunch of cousins here,” Rory says. “You didn’t even meet half the kids here. You should remember to bring Conor up here sometime, let him get some of that energy out with a bunch of other Mage children. It might help.”

“It might.” Pawel’s hand clenches and relaxes on the table. “You’re right, I’ve got to go deal with—” He cuts off, glares at the door, then keeps talking while facing away. “I want to meet up with you once the school year starts. I’ve got a meetings on Saturday and Sunday right before the semester starts, for my independent studies. I’ve got six this semester, so most of my weekend will be spent with them. You can stop by on Monday during my office hours, or I’ll see you at Coven. If we do that, plan to stay a little late if you can.”

“Coven would probably be simplest.” Rory waves at the camera, gesturing at whatever’s happening out of his line of sight. “Go. Tell Conor I said hi and that he should stop blowing things up. Thorne lost fire privileges when we were kids every time he set something on fire.”

“I’d love to do that, but he can’t stop,” Pawel mutters. “Do you want to babysit when you’re back? Sit on him for a little while? Maybe if it just—shit.” Another crash, this one louder and closer. “I’m sorry, Rory. I’ll talk to you again when semester begins.”

The screen goes dark just as Pawel yells Conor’s name.

“Is that your advisor? He’s cute.” Stormy sits down on the bed next to Rory, bumps into him. “Isn’t he a little young to be a professor?”

“He’s got to be older than he looks,” Rory mutters. “He’s the foremost expert on Magical Studies, and he’s got an eight year old kid. He’s also kind of pedantic, and forgets sometimes that this is our life, not just a bunch of things he’s learning about, which is impressive considering he’s a Mage himself.”

“So you’re saying he’s intense and probably not quite as young as he looks, but he still sounds like he has a young attitude. And he is cute, you can’t deny that.” Stormy knocks into him again, grinning. “I bet he’s that professor on campus that everyone crushes on.”

“Not anyone who spends time with him,” Rory says. Or maybe it’s just him. Pawel’s too intense, and just a little too brusque for Rory sometimes. Which is funny, considering how close Rory is to Alaric. But that’s different. And while Pawel has become a friend—if he can use friend in the same sentence as professor—he’s just not someone Rory sees himself opening up to easily.

Which is exactly why it really took so long for him to tell Pawel what happened. If he’d had to talk to him about everything Alaric was dealing with, that’s easy. Keep it professional. But the personal things, where it’s about Rory’s magic and life in particular, that’s harder.

It’s a lot harder.

“Okay, so, forget about professor hottie. We’re going outside to play.” Stormy stands up, grips one of Rory’s hands and tugs. He manages to get the laptop stable on the bed before she pulls him to his feet. “It’s warm out and there are a ton of kids here who seem to think you must hate them because you’re ignoring them. Plus, Miranda says she has to show you her cape.”

Rory shoves his phone into his pocket, then grabs a hoodie and shrugs into it. No matter what Stormy says, it’s not really warm out, but it’s enough above freezing that he can probably convince his brain otherwise and get away without a heavier jacket. He didn’t bring gloves, and starts to head out without anything on his hands, but Gram makes them both take pairs of hand-knit mittens and waits until they put them on.

Miranda is standing on the lawn, hopping from foot to foot as she waits impatiently for them. As soon as the door opens, she spins in place, arms held wide to show off her cape before she wraps it around herself. “Alaric made this for me!” she yells. “He made the yarn and he emailed me just to show what it looked like!” It’s a bright purple base shot through with random zigzags of pink, and Miranda wraps it around herself gleefully.

“He emailed David,” Simon drawls lazily. “He didn’t email you, Miranda. You’re too little for email.”

“It was for me, he just sent it to David,” Miranda lisps angrily. “You’re just jealous because you didn’t get a cape like mine. Alaric likes me best. He’s soft.”

“She’s talking about your roommate,” Stormy whispers, and Rory nods because yes, that’s his gruff roommate that’s won over Miranda’s heart.

Caleb tugs at Stormy’s jacket. “Alaric let me pet him. He’s a dog.”

“Sometimes,” Rory clarifies. “Sometimes he’s a dog.” There aren’t as many children as he was expecting, just Miranda, Caleb, and Simon, with Shawn shadowing them silently. Shawn glances up from his phone, wiggles fingers that are slightly red in the cold.

Stormy crouches down, runs her fingers through the thin layer of snow on the ground. “Does anyone think we’ve got enough snow for snowballs?”

There isn’t enough snow, not really, but it doesn’t stop the kids from trying. Even Shawn gets involved when Stormy shoves a handful of snow down the back of his neck. Somehow at the end of it, Rory ends up lying on his back, arms and legs spread while the smaller children heap snow around him to make an outline on the ground.

Shawn stops, a handful of snow poised over Rory’s chest, his head tilted up. A moment later, a phone chimes, and Stormy bolts for the three phones that were placed safely out of range of the snow. “Rory’s,” she calls out, and Rory carefully sits up. Small hands help him make sure that he doesn’t disturb the outline he created. As soon as he vacates the space, Miranda starts filling in the outline of his head as if she’s making a very flat snowman on the ground.

Rory takes his phone from Stormy, a text notification in the center of the screen.

Chris said that he’s bringing Ric, Drea, and Corbin back to OPT for Drea and Ric’s birthday on Friday night. You want me to pick you up that day so you can be there?

There’s a part of Rory that thinks no, he shouldn’t go. There will be people there—possibly more than were there for the house show the other night. Plus he still has research to do, and he can’t possibly read every book between now and Friday.

But it’s Alaric, and he wants to be there for the birthday celebration.

Yeah, he texts back. What about Stormy?

What about Stormy? We could take her with us, then all go home after the weekend. Mom and Dad want to see you, and I think Dad’s worried about you.

Which is Thorne’s code for knowing that Dad’s worried but not wanting to worry Rory more by talking about it.

Rory sits on the step, long legs splayed out in front of him. The mittens are on the step, hopefully not soaking up melted snow. He pauses, reddened fingers resting against the cold screen. “Hey, Stormy. Want to go to a birthday party this weekend? Thorne can pick us up Friday afternoon, and says we’ll go home for real afterward.”

“PHU?” Rory nods, and Stormy grins, saying, “I am in. You and I have a spreadsheet to work on.”

Shit. “No.” Rory keeps his tone careful and even. “We really don’t.”

“We really do.” Stormy’s sitting on the wet ground with Caleb perched on one knee while he carefully molds snow into an awkward small ice sculpture. “It’ll settle your mind if you know who’s safe, Rory.”

“Is PHU not safe?”

Rory stops, mouth open, the answer held on his lips. He closes his mouth slowly, looks at Shawn, who is waiting for an answer to his question. “PHU is safe,” he says carefully. “This is a personal project.” When Shawn’s brow furrows, Rory waves a hand. “Don’t think about it. Band stuff,” he says, and Shawn nods like that actually makes sense.

Sometimes Rory wonders what his relatives think being in a band is really like. Reality is so much sweatier and more exhausting than pop culture would have anyone believe.

Shawn joins Rory at the back step, sitting once Rory makes room for him. “I applied to PHU,” Shawn confides quietly. “It’s not my top choice, but it’s one of them. If I get into Cornell, I’m going. Or well, it depends on the financial aid. I can’t afford any of them, really, except for maybe UVM. But I want to leave Burlington, not get stuck here like some people do.”

Rory knows Shawn has a point; it’s easy to go to the school in your backyard and just never move on.

“Do you like it?” Shawn can’t sit still, his knees wobbling back and forth, knocking into Rory’s stretched leg. “Can I visit sometime?”

“I like it, yeah. You met my roommate. Miranda loves him.” Rory huffs, as if Alaric wasn’t just a topic of conversation a half hour ago. “There are a lot of Talented people there, and a lot of humans. It’s an open campus, and very tolerant. I like that about it. But if you want to visit, they’ve got a whole program for that. They can match you up with someone in a major you want to shadow. Unless you’re planning on going into music.” He smiles slightly, bumps Shawn back.

“I actually really want to do Agriculture, but PHU doesn’t have that,” Shawn admits. “And yeah, I know UVM does, but I don’t want to be here. The Magical Studies program at PHU sounds cool, and it’s the only place that has it, so that’s a huge plus. I’m figuring if I go there, I could study Biology, maybe focus on Environmental Science. There’s always grad school back here, or just jumping in and apprenticing with someone.”

“Planning on coming back here after?” Rory looks out across the grounds, gaze skipping past where Stormy still plays with the kids. There are houses in the distance, and a long line of houses in a neighborhood that backs onto this farmland. This is his family’s home, even if it’s not where he grew up. It doesn’t really feel like his own home, even if he’s comfortable here.

“Eventually, yeah.” Shawn laughs a little, ducks his head. “I mean. I want to get out now. But I love it here, and I really love planting things and figuring out how to make them grow better. And caring for the animals. I want to know how we can do it better. We have all this land and the weather’s changing, and the ground is changing. Nutrients will die eventually; we’ll wear it out. And there’s a lot to be learned from the old ways of doing things, but maybe there are new ways, too. I just want to explore it all, learn everything I can, then come back here and start applying it.”

Rory spots David walking their way, raises a hand to say a silent hello. David raises a bag he carries, and Rory doesn’t have to ask to know that it’s an exchange being sent to Alaric. “You’ll find the right path,” Rory says, pushing to his feet. He offers a hand to Shawn, pulls him in and hugs him hard. “Whichever place you end up, it’ll probably be perfect for you.”

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#welcome to phu #welcometophu #not your love song #phu marked #marked

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