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stellar-imagines · 5 years

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SCENARIO REQUEST: ❝nightmare quirk.❞

[ Fandom: Boku no Hero Academia ] [ Characters: Class 1-A ]

「Scenario featuring S/O with a Nightmare quirk.」

As a person who aspires to become a Hero, UA is definitely your first choice to go for high school. The written exam went well and you were confident that you passed it but the practical exam was a tough one. Since your quirk wasn't really an offensive one, you trained a lot to make up for it. You were aware of your weaknesses and worked hard to make up for it. Initially, you lacked direct combat abilities but before applying for UA, you trained a lot. But that still wasn't enough for you.

Luckily, you had managed to secure a bit of points in the practical exam and honestly, you barely made it to UA. It was expected that you didn't get to the Hero Course but it still frustrated you. There were tons of people who had quirks more associated with Hero Work and unfortunately, you were born with a quirk not suitable for combat. So you were forced into the General Studies department. Even so, that didn't stop you from wanting to become a Hero.

The first friend you made was Shinsou because of the similarity. You don't have that many friends with how your quirk was perceived. A quirk that makes people relieve their worst nightmare, cause hallucinations, that's pretty much evil in everyone's book. A majority of your classmates feared your quirk, along with those who are aware of your power tried to stay away from you. Shinsou was the same and the two of you befriended each other when you were coincidentally teamed up for a group project.

Together with Shinsou, you made your debut in the Sports Festival, earning praise and an immense amount of support from your classmates who look up to you and Shinsou now. It's nice to be accepted and admired after a long time of being shunned. They were really supportive and helps you in any way they can to get you to the Hero Course. Class 1-A is more than happy to have you in their class. The girls are excited to have another female in their group and some of the boys—especially Kaminari and Mineta, are excited. Having a new student in the middle of the semester is a bit refreshing. But of course, this class tends to over-welcome people unconsciously.

"[Last Name]!" Mineta and Kaminari screeched in unison when you stood in front of the class to introduce yourself. The last time you saw them was during the joint training and they seem well. The two boys seem to be too excited to your liking though.

Unlike most people you've known, the students from the Hero Course accepted you quite easily. They think it's amazing that your hard work and dedication. Students from 1-A are super friendly and it was easy to befriend them. At first, it was a bit unnerving to have people accept you so quickly. Years of being shunned had given you the ability to read people's behavior. The one who's interested in your quirk the most is tied between Tokoyami and Midoriya. It's because Tokoyami is fond of darkness and other related concepts, often going off saying that he's a creature of the dark. Not to mention, he makes dramatic speeches. As for Midoriya, everyone knows he's a nerd and is genuinely interested in your quirk.

"So how does it actually work!? Can you control how far your smoke extends and can you see what your opponent is dreaming about? Where does the smoke come from? Your hands?" Midoriya had his notebook open and actively asking you questions. Uraraka and Asui had invited you to each lunch together. Midoriya, Iida, and Todoroki had come after the three of you settled down.

"Um, well....." you rubbed your cheek, clearly overwhelmed by his questions. He looked like a fan who has known you for a long time.

Everyone is pretty chill with your quirk, mainly because they've seen how hard you were doing during the joint training. As it was an entrance exam for you to see if you have the potential to be in the Hero Course, you went all out. You've received training from a lot of teachers who saw your potential, to be precise, Midnight took you under her wing and whipped you into shape.

"I want to see what Bakugou is afraid of."

"I'm not afraid of shit!" the mentioned male shot back before downing whatever drink he had in his mug.

"Come on, Bakugou! There has to be something that even you're afraid of!" Kirishima said, suddenly curious.

"Even if I do, why would I need to tell you extras." Bakugou scoffed.

"We can even do a haunted house with [Last Name]-chan's quirk as its main attraction!" Kaminari pointed out with a smile, looking like he had suggested a brilliant idea. Everyone makes this kind of talk from time to time and it's nice to know that no one thinks that your quirk is too villainous.

"Well, everyone has something they're afraid of. It might be over something so ridiculous that it embarrasses you. I'm sure Bakugou is afraid of something that he doesn't want anyone to know so, we should respect that." you said calmly, turning your attention to the ash blonde who clicked his tongue.

"Like I said, I'm afraid of nothing."

The boys began teasing him for being so shy and the calm night you expected to have, became a lively one. Living in the dorms with the students from 1-A was different from when you were with your old classmates. Most of the time, you spend the night in your room but here, you were dragged into things. Especially by the girls. They were nice people but being the person who barely talked with anyone and avoided most of the time, you always feel uneasy. When they had a conversation, you stayed silent. They invite you for girl activities but you usually just sit at the side awkwardly until one of them drags you into their antics. It takes a lot of time to get comfortable but they were really patient and nice throughout the entire time.

"[First Name]-chan! We're friends so don't be shy!" Ashido tugged your arm and leaned her head against your shoulder.

"But I've never done this kind of thing before, it's my first time, what am I supposed to do?" you questioned when the Asui and Uraraka came back with a handful of snacks.

"We eat, we watch some videos, gossip, play some games, share secrets and many more! There's nothing you're supposed to do. This is a girls' night where we girls just gather in the common area and we pretty much have the whole space to ourselves for tonight because of the agreement we made with the boys when we moved in." Uraraka explained whilst opening a bag of chips.

"What's most important is that you enjoy yourself." Hagakure said to you.

"Come on, [First Name], let's play something together." Jirou urged.

The Nightmare quirk is capable of a few things. First, you emit smoke from your body which is black in color which surrounds your target and traps them in some sort of illusion where they can see hallucinations of their nightmare. During this state, they can't pinpoint your location and are immobilized. You need ultimate concentration to see whatever they're hallucinating which often leaves you vulnerable. Second, you can shift into their nightmare, if its a fear that has a physical form, you can take that form. But if it's something like a nightmare of a bad experience, you will turn into smoke and continue to make them relieve it.

The proper way of using this is to figure out their nightmare first before shifting. The only way to break out of the illusion is to have someone snap you out of it or overcome the nightmare itself.

"Yikes....I saw my life flashed before my eyes." Kaminari shivered.

"It was like a true horror experience." Ashido muttered.

"Sorry guys." you mumbled apologetically.

"It's not your fault that these two got caught in your quirk. Bakugou ended up carrying them. We almost won, too." Kirishima chuckled, pointing at the ash blonde who looked exhausted. Today was team practice, you were paired with Kirishima and Jirou going up against Kaminari, Ashido, and Bakugou.

"You're always worried about your opponents that it makes you vulnerable at times. If it weren't for Kirishima, Bakugou would've already whooped your ass." Jirou sighed with a small smile.

"Don't you fucking hold back next time, idiot." Bakugou narrowed his eyes at you when you shuffled to the spectator's side.

"I'll do my best."

Total: 1437 words Published: 21.09.2019

We’re open for some limited edition prompts featuring Fall and Halloween! Read more here!

Thank you for requesting! *｡٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و*｡ I hope when you say imagine, you mean scenarios..... Originally, this was supposed to be headcanons but we changed our minds. I have a small project that I’m supposed to complete in a few days but here I am, publishing requests. Internet is being so slow or is it my internet? ― author Hibiki/Lou

Thank you for requesting! As usual, we put too much thought on this that it delayed our publishing time. We’ve been getting a lot of requests, it makes us so happy that there are people who are happy to share their ideas with us. So, sorry to make you wait, we’ll do our best! ― author Natsuki

Please do not mind the grammar mistakes and typos.

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pandemicthestory · 4 years

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4: tethered

The game has a name.

The game is called Universe. And it matches the map.

Thanks Iz.

Emma sits at her desk, mainlining espresso to the bloodstream, and readying herself to do a deep dive on the internet. Since the beginning of high school, this is how she’s spent many nights--high on caffeine, slouched over her computer, and ravaging the internet for information. Except historically she hadn’t been looking for a faceless man, but researching for the essays of her classmates.

At up to $300 a paper, Emma had been cleaning up and saving up for two years. Saving for a new life with Julian, away from the family that seemed to have a problem with everything she did. Once she was gone, they could finally turn her bedroom into a gym, or an opium den, really the possibilities were endless.

Emma has nearly $20,000 in a bank account that no one knows about. No one except Julian. And this means she has almost reached her goal, and that they can finally leave. Get a car, drive somewhere south where it’s warm. Or maybe somewhere north where it’s Canada. They haven’t actually figured that part out yet, but once they get the car, the rest will fall into place. That’s what he’s assured her. And she has chosen to believe him.

Emma is the kind of best friend who lies. She’s not proud of it, but it’s true. And she feels like she has no other choice. Zoe, Olivia, Madison...they might as well be her sisters. They understand her more clearly than her own sister does. The four of them were connected by the holiest of ways: playing tetherball at recess in first grade.

In 2020, they had grown into a grungey aspiring comic book creator (Madison), soup-kitchen volunteering empath (Olivia), Harvard-bound jailbait (Zoe), and criminal internet troll (Emma)...but before this, they were four little girls who had one important thing in common: hitting a ball that was tied to a poll. Every day, they’d wait in line together. Madison would always get there first (back then she played soccer and no one could outrun her), and she would “save a spot” for Zoe, who was the most talented player at the time, and her key rival. Olivia, given her sense of morality, would often be called upon to referee any suspicious moves. Wasn’t it remarkable that a sport (that wasn’t even a real sport) could form a sisterhood?

Sisters. Sisters were supposed to know everything about you. But Emma had chosen not tell them about her illegal business. How could they ever understand? All of them with their aspirations and goals, wouldn’t they look at her differently if they knew hers was...money? And a future that in all likelihood would not involve them? That thought was something that caused her a lot of pain and guilt, and one that she made a mental note to talk to Julian about. They hadn’t settled on the terms of their new life together, but they knew that it would have to be a secret from anyone. Otherwise they would be caught and returned. Emma was hoping she could find a way to not cut off her sisters. That he would understand.

*crack*

Emma is startled by her bedroom window opening. Julian has this way of popping up whenever she’s thinking about him. Which happens to be often.

“Dude, can you please text me before you’re gonna come over? Aghh you’re all wet!”

Julian playfully shakes his hair like a dog.

“It’s raining,” he smiles.

“No it’s not. I can see out the window.”

“But wouldn’t that be so romantic if I climbed up the side of your house and snuck into your window through the rain?”

“You know, it would, but you didn’t.”

Julian sighs, giving Emma the look that means, “ok stop being an asshole and act like you love me.”

“Alright I just showered. Look, I brought you flowers.”

“You brought me one flower, and it’s a dandelion from my front yard.” Emma cracks a smile, despite herself.

Julian groans and throws himself down on her bed.

“Ok, so am I gonna just lay here by myself? You punishing me for something I don’t even know that I did?”

He smiles at her in that “you can’t say no to this smile” type of way. Emma concedes and flops down next to him. He wraps his body around hers, holding her tight. It makes her feel both safe and like she couldn’t get away if she wanted to. Julian is tall and lean, but strong. He has curly hair that always flops in front of his face, and his eyes are dark and wide. He smells like the shower, so that wasn’t a lie. He kisses her neck. She sighs.

“I missed you.” She says softly. Because she really, really did.

“I had to go away for a while, to make sure I had my half. And it...took longer than I thought it would.”

Emma sits up. “But you have it?”

He smiles and nods. “What about you, Em?”

Emma gazes off distantly. She’s basically there. If this virus bullshit hadn’t gotten in the way, she would have passed her goal in three weeks, tops. But now…

“I don’t have all of it. Since there’s no school, I’m not sure how I can...but I’m really close.” Emma braces herself for him to be mad, but he isn’t.

“That’s ok, babe.”

“It is...?”

“Yeah, we have more than we need. I said 40 because having some extra doesn’t hurt. But we’ll be ok. And we can leave tonight.”

Emma half chokes, half laughs. “Tonight? Are you insane? I already know the answer to that.”

“Well why not?”

“Um, I mean there’s things I have to do before we go, Julian...lots of stuff actually, I mean I need to pack, square away my accounts, and say goodbye to Isabel, and…”

“Then how bout tomorrow?”

Julian has a bit of a manic look in his eye, like he hasn’t slept in days, like he’s been doing something he shouldn’t. Emma takes a deep breath, she doesn’t want to know.

“Give me, um, one week. Ok?”

Was that a flash of anger that just crossed Julian’s face? It couldn’t be. Those days are past. Julian hides anything that might have been, then just pouts dramatically and nods.

“One week.”

Emma lays back down with him and they begin to make out. Is one week enough time to sort everything out? To figure out Universe? To find Mason?

“You haven’t even re-asked me to be your girlfriend yet…” she murmurs. He hushes her.

They continue to kiss, as Emma’s anxiety grows. Julian’s hand begins to slide under her shirt, but she stops him. Abruptly.

“Julian, I want to tell my friends that we’re leaving.”

He sits up next to her, immediately serious.

“You know we can’t, Emma.”

Emma slumps forward. “Am I really just going to disappear without telling them where I’m going?”

“Yes, that’s exactly what you’re going to do. Anyone who knows what we’re doing is a potential threat to us being discovered. Honestly, what is the point of running away if you’re pretty sure that you’re going to get caught?”

“But Julian, they’re like my sisters. It isn’t right. They’ll worry.”

But worse than worry about her, they could forget her. They could close their little circle and be ok with just three sisters. They could be just fine without her. And that is, strangely, the worst fate that Emma can imagine.

“Emma, no. And I don’t want to talk about it anymore.”

He gets off the bed and straightens his clothing. He puts his shoes on.

“Where are you going?”

Julian flashes her a look. This time, the anger lingers.

“There is a fucking virus that’s going to kill half this country. Right now, people are quarantining because they agree to it. But what happens when there are cops in the streets, saying they’ll shoot us if we even leave our houses? What happens when there’s no food left? I’m getting out of here before it gets that bad, because I want to be in control of what happens to me. If you wanna come with, great. If not, don’t waste my time.”

And with that, he has disappeared back out the window from which he came.

Emma tries to catch her breath. She’s not going to cry over him tonight. No. Absolutely not. This is the right thing to do. He’s going to save her. They’re going to save each other. He loves her. He loves her.

*buzz*

Her phone lights up on her desk. The group chat.

Emma rubs her face and examines her phone.

OLIVIA: does anyone wanna watch a movie? Netflix does this party mode thing now where you can watch stuff with other people

ZOE: i was just thinking about how i’ve never seen gossip girl. Binge?

MADISON: if we watch something less cringey I’m in. back me up Em?

But Emma can’t respond. And now, is when she begins to cry.

Because they don’t know so many things. And they wouldn’t forgive her if they did.

The last time Julian was her boyfriend, he cheated on her with someone Isabel’s age. And when Emma found out (through an unforgettable fight with Isabel), she confronted Julian immediately. Surprisingly, he made himself the victim, claiming that Emma hadn’t been a loving enough girlfriend, and that he was desperate for attention. He made her feel like she wasn’t enough, something she already struggled with, and something that she has carried with ever since.

So after he started texting her again six months ago, she told the first lie to her friends. A lie of omission, really, as she just didn’t tell them about him at all. And then came the next lie, when Emma opened up her anonymous writing service to her schoolmates. Everyone knew about the sophomore ghostwriter, but no one knew it was Emma Bradford.

Except Julian. And this knowledge is something that he has over her, but that she is 100% sure he would never use against her. Because he isn’t like that anymore. He wouldn’t hurt her again.

Whether Emma is able to look herself in the mirror and make the judgment or not, she’s smart. Technically, brilliant. It’s always been easy for her to label Zoe as “the smart one,” unable to recognize her own intelligence. But Emma built her own PC when she was 12 years old. She learned Python when she was 13. She wrote her own research program that combs sources for students’ papers, allowing her to have an incredible turnaround rate. While Zoe might be the star of AP Biology, Emma’s intellectual strengths just haven’t been required of her yet. So she can’t see their worth.

Emma sits down at her laptop.

Universe.

After a quick Google search, she is able to find it rather easily. Although, the game is from 1983? This can’t be right...the graphics she saw over Isabel’s shoulder looked modern. But then again, she didn’t get a good look.

After Emma is unable to find any other Universe games, she decides to download this one. As she starts the download, she sees that the game takes up an absurd amount of memory--about 20x that of a normal game. Very weird. Luckily, Emma has a spare external hard drive that she can download the game onto. Huh. What the hell can possibly be taking up so much space?

The computer determines that the download will be completed in 24 hours.

What?! Truly unheard of. Ok then, well, seemingly she pounded all this coffee for nothing. Nothing to do but, wait.

*ping*

A new message to her ghostwriter account. Mason. Her heart skips a beat.

MASON: Don’t worry, the time will go quickly

And now her pulse begins to quicken. So this means that she’s right. The map is leading to Universe. Or rather, the map is Universe.

EMMA: are you watching me?? seriously wtf

MASON: No matter what I say, you won’t believe me.

EMMA: ok well… i just ingested enough caffeine to give myself a heart attack, and now i’m gonna be up all night. will you at least talk to me?

A long pause. Emma knows this is weirdly forward but hey, it’s been a crazy night. So why not.

But then, he’s typing?

MASON: what do you want to talk about?

Pause.

Randomly, shockingly, in this moment, Emma decides to be honest. Which is something she hasn’t done in a long time. To this person who can’t possibly judge her.

EMMA: I have three best friends, and I really miss them. I miss being close to them. Seeing their faces in person, and telling them the truth.

EMMA: Too much?

MASON: maybe you should tell them how much you miss them

EMMA: I’m scared to. I don’t know what will happen if...well there’s a lot they don’t know. And I’m scared if I tell them, they won’t look at me the same. And nothing will be the same. And then I’ll be gone, and no one will miss me

MASON: It sounds like in some ways you’re already gone, and i bet they miss you too

Emma sharply exhales. She sits back in her chair. She isn’t use to being read like that, especially by someone who’s never met her.

She doesn’t want to be gone.

She picks up her phone, and opens the group chat.

As she begins to craft the message that will open the door to an explanation, she stops herself. Deletes what’s been written.

EMMA: i’m down to watch gossip girl

ZOE: Yesssss queen

MADISON: traitor

She can’t tell them. Not tonight. But it’s possible that somehow she might. And she has one week to figure it out.

Back when recesses were spent playing tetherball, Madison would challenge, Zoe would defend, Olivia would judge.

And Emma, oddly enough, would watch. She would sit on the sidelines while most of the girls in her grade lined up to face the defending champion and she would admire it was so easy for all of these girls to play together, to be instant friends. She wondered if she would ever have that.

* * *

In a different room, far away:

A boy sits at his computer. He thinks that the neurotic compassion one girl has for her friends is shocking and intriguing.

He stares at the sky, wondering if she might be doing the same.

#writers on tumblr #writers #writer #write #writing #my writing #excerpt from a story i'll never write #pandemic

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kimnamjooonz · 5 years

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Blank Space - Episode 9

PBlank Space

Showing up in this episode:

Karlie Kloss

Tom Holland:

Taylor Swift:

Chris Evans:

Basically everyone is here.

Songs that inspired this chapter:

Break Up With Your Girlfriend, I’m bored - Ariana Grande. (Morgan’s song)

I’m a Mess - Bebe Rexha (Also Morgan’s song)

Don’t Hurt Yourself - Beyonce

I Did Something Bad - Taylor Swift

Hands To Myself - Selena Gomez

Mambo N. 5 - Lou Bega

Dancing Queen - Abba

Africa - Toto

Hey Ya - Outkast

Blank Space - Taylor Swift.

Okay, this is a hot mess but I had a lot of fun writing it.

''Oh my God, who is she, I get drunk on jealousy, when you come back is time you leave, cause darling I'm a nightmare dressed like daydream.''

After the Madison Square Garden outing, the two weirdest weeks followed. Morgan and Sebastian had rescued a cat and almost kissed but after that, Sebastian came back to his senses and Morgan went into a spiral of anger without any precedent. The thing was that for a moment she had thought that she had achieved something after the moment they had shared while rescuing Thirteen so, it was a disappointment of the size of the Empire State when on the next day pictures of Sebastian and his girlfriend splashed the Internet. Morgan was as livid as the majority of Sebastian's fans. But, just like in the old times, she kept her emotions to herself and went on with her life. Only Taylor noticed that something was off and that Morgan was ready to snap. Not of stress or pressure but of anger. But Morgan was taking revenge in the best way she could: by landing her first Vogue cover, being invited to every show at the New York fashion week and hanging out with the most popular models afterwards. And being loved by apparently everyone on the Internet. On set, everything was as normal as it ever was. Morgan and Sebastian kept their outstanding chemistry but when the cameras stopped rolling, they went back to their brooding selves, hardly sharing a word. At least they weren't shouting at each other anymore even though Sebastian could see a shadow of anger in Morgan's eyes every time she looked at him. There were only two people that knew the reason why Morgan had been like a chained monster the last couple of weeks: her assistant Lucas and her new friend Karlie Kloss. She had met Karlie at the New York Fashion Week and they had immediately clicked. They were often pictured together leaving events or hanging out around the city. Morgan hadn't had any other option but to tell Lucas as he had found her smashing a glass of water to the floor after a new set of pictures of Sebastian and his girlfriend had surfaced the Internet, this time kissing. Lucas was a bit alarmed by Morgan's attack of jealousy and decided to call Karlie to help him handle her. He decided to not tell Taylor who was going to give Morgan an earful, without any doubt. Together decided to distract Morgan with an sleepover and a Harry Potter marathon. Taylor joined them, even though she found the situation curious. Morgan just lied and told her that she had had a bad day at set and they were helping her to relax. But Morgan needed help to release that anger. The best solution was to get over Sebastian but everyone knew that this was not going to happen any time soon. Morgan's solution was to run him over with her Porsche but Lucas had pointed out that this was probably getting Morgan to prison and would end her career in a heartbeat. Luckily Karlie proposed Morgan to do kickboxing with her and she had liked the idea. She already knew how to do rugby tackles and now she was learning to punch and kick. Lucas and Taylor were a bit reluctant. The were starting to fear for Sebastian Stan's well being. Taylor still remember the words that Clint had told Morgan at the airport: 'If they break your heart, you break their necks.'. She prayed that Morgan didn't took that piece of advice to heart. But after a week doing kickboxing, she could feel the difference. Anger wasn't clouding her thoughts anymore and she could feel her wits getting sharper and more calculating. Or that was what she thought. Many others had noticed too. Taylor, Lucas and Karlie were proud of her as she was in a much better mood. Even Sebastian had noticed. There was no anger in her eyes anymore but sometimes she caught her staring at him in a way that made him wonder if she knew something he didn't or if she was planning to give him an slow and painful death. That Friday evening Morgan was with Lucas and Karlie at the gym. Don't Hurt Yourself by Beyoncé was blasting and Morgan was punching a punching bag with all the force in the world, and the song was motivating. They were even singing some lyrics. ''I am the dragon breathing fire, beautiful mane I'm the lion, beautiful man I know you're lying...'' Punch. Karlie was impressed. In a week Morgan's workout was noticeable. She looked even more stunning, if that was possible. ''Morgan, sing the next part because it's absolutely epic.'' said Lucas, laughing.

''We just got to let it be, let it be, let it be, baby'.. HEY BABY'' Punch. ''WHO THE FUCK DO YOU THINK ARE YOU?'' Punch. ''I SMELL THAT FRAGANCE ON YOUR LOUIS V BOY'' Punch. 'JUST GIVE MY FAT ASS A BIG KISS BOY'' Punch. ''TONIGHT I'M FUCKING UP ALL YOUR SHIT BOY'' Punch. Punch. Punch. Punch. Morgan was punching that bag as it had personally offended her.

''This is so cathartic'' said Lucas, who was lying on a mat, tired. ''It is'' the song had stopped and Morgan was on a little break to drink water and rest. ''Brilliant, Morgan, brilliant'' said Peter, Morgan and Karlie's personal trainer. He was a lovable big guy, who was always flirting with Lucas. And Lucas shamelessly flirted back. Morgan always thought that he was the reason why Lucas kept going to the gym with her and Karlie. ''I wouldn't like to be the person you're angry at.'' ''You're right. You wouldn't like to.'' Morgan looked at her reflection on the big mirror and she loved what she saw. Her back was more muscular and her arms more defined. ''Are you sure you're not training for an action movie?'' he asked. ''Something Marvel related? After all, you work with Sebastian Stan and he's from Marvel.'' Thinking of the DEVIL, there he was, mentioned again. ''Not at all. Maybe I take on the mantle of Captain America now that Chris Evans is leaving.'' she said with sarcasm. ''It seems that you're enjoying being Stan's partner way too much that you want to do it again.'' Karlie teased her again and Lucas laughed out loud. Peter was the only one that didn't understand. ''Keep teasing, you two'' Morgan rolled her eyes at him. ''Let's do something else.'' ''Let's try to combine your kicks with your punches, okay?'' Karlie was searching for another song to motivate Morgan. Taylor Swift's I did Something Bad was the chosen one. Morgan was thinking exactly the same. Peter was guiding Morgan in everything that she needed to do, and of course that the song lyrics were helping her. They say I did something bad, why does it feel so good? Punch. They say I did something bad why does it feel so... Punch. ...good? Kick. Most fun I ever had and I'll do it over and over and over again...'' Punch. If I could... Kick. It just felt so... Punch. Kick. ...good. Punch. Kick. Karlie and Lucas were having a lot of fun, watching Morgan kick and punch, totally possessed with the song. ''LIGHT ME UP! LIGHT ME UP! GO AHEAD AND LIGHT ME UP!'' they sang, trying not to laugh. She finished basically submissing Peter. ''Okay, okay, you were good Morgan. Anger motivates you.'' he ruffled her hair. ''See you newt week and don't punch anyone, okay?'' She just nodded. She was so tired that she was lying in a mat, breathing heavily and trying to get some energy and get up. ''So... ready for tonight?'' Karlie asked. That night there was going to be a cast party but everyone knew it was more than that. Many people was going to go, and they weren't related to the movie at all but Damien had invited them for publicity. Morgan herself had invited Taylor, Lucas and Karlie. Everyone knew that Sebastian was going to bring his girlfriend and everyone was asking if Joe Alwyn was going to bring Taylor Swift. For all of these reasons, Morgan was excited. ''More than ever'' she was still lying on the mat, moving her hands sensually at the rhythm of Selena Gomez's Hands To Myself. Lucas jumped from the mat with Morgan's phone in his hands. ''Can I film this for your Instagram? This is too priceless. Post workout Morgan Llewellyn lip synching and looking devastatingly sexy. Perfect.'' ''Perfect to PornHub'' commented Karlie. ''Shut up, Kloss. Now, do what you were doing, Morgan. Remember, you can't keep your hands to yourself. Taylor is going to kill you but not before you kill a certain someone of a heart attack. Now, action.'' At the other side of Manhattan, Sebastian was opening the new Instagram notification from Morgan only to end up weak on the knees with his eyes almost bulging out of his skull. He had to sit down to call himself a little and watch the video again. ''Damn'' was the only thing he could mumble.

''You are absolutely out of control.'' Taylor reprimanded Morgan once they were at home getting ready for the party. ''I told you not to post sexy stuff.'' ''It was good.'' Morgan was ready and she was sitting on the table, looking bored. ''Did you see how many likes it got?'' ''Yeah, including one from your co-star.'' Taylor kept curling her hair. Lucas giggled. He was straightening the front of his shirt. He and Morgan knew that they had achieved their purpose. And it was just he beginning. Lucas couldn't wait to see what else Morgan had in store. She looked spectacular, with a metallic short, loose dress, that had a star in the middle with an inscription in Welsh. It highlighted her long legs to perfection. She accompanied the look with high heels, snake themed jewellery and her signature red lip. ''Beth bynnag y mae'n ei gymryd, rwyf bob amser yn ennill.'' Taylor read the inscription in Morgan's dress. ''Isn't that a bit threatening?'' ''It depends how you take it. And no one except you understands Welsh.'' ''What does it say?'' asked Lucas. ''Whatever it takes, I'm always going to win.'' Taylor translated the sentence. ''Childish.'' however, Taylor was a bit weary of Morgan, who was not going to give up in whatever she was planning. Taylor didn't want to know. So, Morgan was going to go there making statements and no one was going to understand. ''Let's go, remember we're picking up Karlie on our way there.''

Sebastian was already in the place accompanied by his girlfriend and his friends. Damien Chazelle was around as well as some of the cast, pop music was on the background and the place was peaceful only because Morgan Llewellyn hadn't arrived yet. ''Are you sure she's not here yet?'' Florence asked. ''Yes. If she were here you'd notice that. She's chaotic and this place too peaceful.'' Florence wanted to meet the infamous Morgan Llewellyn once and for all to see if she was as bad as Sebastian said she was. Sebastian glanced at the windows. A horde of paparazzi were outside that didn't pay much attention to him when he got in. They most asked questions that were asked went like: ''Are you and Morgan dating? Because you should, you look gorgeous together'' (and they had asked that IN FRONT of his girlfriend), ''What do think about Morgan's latest Instagram video?'' or ''What do you think about the rumour of Morgan Llewellyn leading the live action Wicked movie?''. They just wanted to ask stuff about Morgan. Suddenly there was a commotion outside and there were flashes everywhere. ''What the hell...'' Florence mumbled. ''There she is. I told you she was chaotic.'' Florence suddenly wanted to leave. She hadn't even seen Morgan yet and she knew that she was whatever but good news. She was too overwhelming and she hadn't entered the building yet. And her feelings were justified when Morgan entered the place. Immediately, Sebastian's group knew that he had been right: pictures didn't do her justice. Morgan in person was ten times more gorgeous and with that metallic dress that exposed her long legs she looked like an exotic flamingo. In Florence's opinion she looked like a beautiful snake. ''I think I lost my ability to breath'' Chace mumbled. ''If you don't want her for you, set me up!'' ''Shut up, Chace!'' Sebastian desperately hissed. But he was with his eyes fixed on Morgan in a not so subtle manner. But Florence was staring at Morgan too. She was built like a Victoria's Secret Angel and she walked like one. She was pacing the room with feline steps, like she owned the place. She was vibrant, magnetic, full of life and absolutely chaotic. Morgan wasn't looking at them but Karlie Kloss was and Florence didn't like her expression. When Florence finally took her glance off of Morgan she saw Sebastian, Toby, Will and Chace staring at her with their mouths hanging open. ''Snap out of it!'' Florence reprimanded them but none only Will took notice. Morgan walked straight to Damien who was waiting for her. ''My dear Morgan! I was waiting for you! Finally the star of the show is here! I want you to meet a couple of people...'' In five minutes she was surrounded by a circle of influential people. From Greta Gerwig, Patty Jenkins, Kevin Feige (that no one knew what was he doing there) and many more. Only after half an hour she was free. ''I think I'm meeting my cast mates'' she said to Karlie and Lucas (Taylor was still talking to Greta Gerwig). Firstly she went to greet Michael and Alicia and then Emily and her husband John Krasinski. They talked for some minutes until Morgan decided that she couldn't keep avoiding the inevitable and approached Sebastian's table before she had any chance of chickening out and running away. Florence felt a pit in her stomach when she saw Morgan approaching. But there was no way to avoid her. But Morgan wasn't looking at her, she had her impressive blue eyes fixed on Sebastian. ''Nice co-star you make. You're here hiding while I have to deal with everyone.'' Florence was surprised. She was expecting Morgan Llewellyn to hiss or to speak Parseltongue. Instead, she had a silky voice that combined with a standard British accent that made it sound completely irresistible. ''What's the deal with you, mate? You always act like you don't even want to be here.'' Florence absolutely detested her. She just needed a couple of seconds next to Morgan to see that she was even worse than what Sebastian said she was. ''You have the whole stage to yourself, Llewellyn. Go and shine.'' Florence wondered if that was banter or if they really were used to say snarky things at each other. ''It tears me apart to say this, doll, but you may be right. With that sour face you won't charm anyone. Why don't you leave? TacoBell is having discount night. You can have a nice dinner there.'' Wait a second... since when Morgan Llewellyn called Sebastian 'doll'? ''I told you two weeks ago, princess. I'm not leaving, I'm staying.'' Florence was about to blow up. He was shamelessly calling Morgan 'princess'. He didn't even called her like that. What was the game they were playing at? ''That's on you, Stan. Have fun if you like or do whatever the hell you want, I don't care. Remember we're on the public eye and we're supposed to be friends so at least smile when you're talking to me. I don't want a Madison Square Garden 2.0, believe me, doll'' Florence couldn't stand it anymore. ''Hello, I'm Florence. I'm Sebastian's girlfriend.'' she had to intervene before Morgan tore Sebastian apart with her words. And she couldn't stand her calling him 'doll'. ''Oh, hi'' Morgan looked at her with a sweet expression. Nothing on her beautiful face revealed a drop of animosity but her eyes told a complete different story. They were cold as ice. ''Sebastian talks a lot about you.'' Sebastian couldn't believe that Florence was saying that. But his girlfriend was still angry because he had called Morgan 'princess'. ''How nice'' Morgan said with an unemotional voice. ''Can't say the same, but we almost never talk, so don't worry.'' Florence was reading the words on Morgan's dress. They were in some strange language that she didn't know. It wouldn't surprise her if it was a curse. Nothing would surprise her about Morgan. ''What does it say?'' she asked with a fake smile, pointing at the dress. ''To be or not to be, that is the question'' she lied without wincing. The message was to Sebastian, not to Florence. ''Shakespeare's Hamlet in Welsh. Balmain customised this dress for me with this quote.'' ''So you are Welsh. I thought you were British.'' Florence meant to say 'English' but she couldn't think clearly with Morgan in front of her. Morgan blinked a couple of times in confusion. ''Wales is part of Britain.. but maybe I'm not the best person to explain this... you can always go to the Wikipedia. It's pretty clearly explained.'' she turned around, making it clear that the conversation was over. Then she noticed Chace. ''You're Chace Crawford! Oh darlin'! I love you since Gossip Girl!'' Sebastian almost dropped his glass to the floor. He could see that Chace had got numb. ''Thank you. That is... a wonderful compliment.'' ''I have to go now, see you later.'' she smiled at him in a nice way, not flirty or anything of the sort. They all watched Morgan leave and take a seat in a table with Lucas and Karlie. ''She hates me'' Florence said, out of nowhere. ''She doesn't'' Toby showed up out of nowhere after he and Will had vanished when Morgan appeared to the scene. But they had been listening to everything. ''She hates Sebastian, you're just collateral damage. And she was pretty nice to you.'' Will laughed out loud. ''She literally said 'Can't say the same' and sent her to look up stuff in the Wikipedia. In which world that counts as being nice? Sebastian was right, she's a snake.'' ''She's not!'' apparently Chace was caught in the Morgan spell. ''I don't know what did you see. But she's really nice. She's just angry at you because you got two hours late to the first read through and invented she was on a date with you, Florence'' Sebastian wanted to punch Chace on the face. That was one of the things he wasn't supposed to tell anyone. But apparently justifying Morgan was more important to him. ''But you weren't! Sebastian!'' Florence looked at him with anger. ''Thank you very much! She was right after all! Where were you by the way?'' Sebastian couldn't think of an explanation that made sense. He had had a mental breakdown that fateful morning but he was not telling that to Florence. ''It doesn't matter'' ''Yes, it matters because thanks to your stupid lies now Morgan Llewellyn loathes me and wants me out of the picture'' Sebastian, Chace and Toby looked at her with their eyebrows raise. ''C'mon! You can see it all over her fake sweet face.'' ''You're just paranoid'' Sebastian kept his eyes glued to Morgan's back, who was with her friends and some other people. ''If she hates someone here, she hates me.'' ''The thing is...'' Will looked at him, straight in the eyes. ''...she doesn't hate you, Sebastian. And you know it.'' Many more people had arrived and some of them had joined Morgan and her friends who were just talking about harmless stuff like pets or what was going to happen in the next season of Game of Thrones. Between Morgan's new company were Tom Holland, Zendaya, Jacob Batalon and Harrison Osterfield. No one knew why they were there but their funny personalities gave life to the group. Tom Holland started to tell anecdotes that had everyone in tears. Sebastian couldn't kept his eyes away from her for a second. And she hadn't looked at him once. He got distracted only when Chace stood up. ''Where are you going?'' he asked. ''With them.'' he pointed at Morgan's group. ''They're a young and lively bunch.'' ''So you're on her side, now. Wow, thank you, Chace.'' ''I'm in nobody's side, stop being so immature. They look like they're having a great time and we're here in silence watching them have fun. I'd rather be there.'' And without any more words he left and second later he was installing himself between Zendaya and Karlie Kloss, being all smiles. The only thing Sebastian wanted was to follow him. After a while Toby's loyalty to him was over and he followed on Chace's footsteps. Morgan received him with a huge smile. Only Will and Florence were still with him. ''I'm getting a drink'' he almost ran to the bar. Michael Fassbender was there and Morgan was near, mysteriously talking with Karlie and Tom. Maybe they were talking about him or maybe he was as paranoid as Florence. He asked for a beer and was going to get back to his table when Michael approached him. ''Finally I get you alone... I'm going to be direct with you because you look painfully unhappy... just, once and for all, make up your mind'' ''What?'' he knew that what Michael had just said made perfect sense but he was not going to admit it. ''Don't try to deny it. I've been watching you and you could take your eyes off of her for a second.'' it was pretty clear who 'her' was. ''Just...clear that head of yours. Once you do that, you'll be a happier person, trust me.'' Michael went back to his table, in which his wife was talking to Morgan's agent. He was still processing Michael's words and looking at Morgan, who was talking only with Karlie, who after getting a drink was going back to the table. It was now or never. Without overthinking too much he approached her. He knew that what he was doing was wrong but he didn't care. Suddenly he was feeling reckless. ''So, you've been working out, Llewellyn?'' Morgan looked at him with suspicion. ''Glad you watched my Instagram video. I guess you enjoyed it.'' ''Yeah, half the world enjoyed it.'' he got one step closer to her. ''But that's not how I noticed. You look different. Stronger.'' Morgan had a side smirk on her face. ''Thanks for the compliment. There's nothing better than strength in this world. Physical strength and strength of character get you ahead in this universe. You feel powerful.'' He got even closer to her. ''What the hell are you playing at?'' Morgan looked at him with a side smile, without no hint of shame. ''My own game, Stan. It's not my fault you're bitter because you're not involved in it.'' He looked at her with the same smile. ''Are you sure of that? I'm pretty much sure I'm well into your game.'' ''Why don't you... prove it?'' she said the last words very slowly. She knew he couldn't. She was never evident about her feelings in front of anyone, let alone, him. He got so close to her that they were almost touching. Morgan needed all her self control to keep herself level headed. ''I thought something had changed between us after MSG. But no. You went back to being the insufferable person you were before.'' ''Look who's talking! I didn't see much of a difference in your behaviour, Stan.'' He had his eyes glued to her. Even though the room was full, this moment was just theirs. ''We shared a moment, Morgan.'' ''And? You come here talking about moments, when your girlfriend is right there looking at you. You have no shame, Sebastian. You thought we shared a moment but, I'm sorry to tell you that nothing of what I told you was of much importance''. But he didn't give up. He closed the space between them, placing her hand softly on her shoulder and leaned in order to whisper something on her ear. ''Keep lying to yourself, Morgan.'' his lips were almost brushing her skin. ''It meant something for you and it meant a lot to me.'' he placed a short and soft kiss just below her ear, leaving Morgan absolutely disarmed. He left with a smile and winking. The bastard knew that her had won this round. At least Morgan had the consolation that his girlfriend was going to give him hell and erase that winning smile from his face. But she was needing all her self control because her insides were screaming. She was obviously very shaken. ''What did he tell you?'' asked Karlie when she was back at the table. ''Nothing of importance.'' she said with all the calm in the world. ''Some crap about my Instagram video. Idiot.'' she didn't know why she was lying to Karlie. Maybe because there were many things that she liked to keep to herself. Like the sensation of Sebastian Stan's lips brushing against her skin for less than a second. Sebastian kept the winning smile for a good while. The magic lasted until Florence spoke. ''Are you going to explain what happened with your co-star? You two were pretty close.'' ''I was just telling her something about Tom Holland. Nothing serious'' he wasn't very focused on giving a strong excuse. The only thing that ran around his head was the softness of Morgan's skin and how good it'd feel to place more kisses in that neck of hers... Will, who had spent the night basically in silence, noticed Sebastian's absent minded and dreamy expression. ''Sebastian!'' Florence said in a loud voice that scared him a little. ''I was talking to you.'' ''Yeah, I know and I wasn't hexed by Morgan, we were just talking.'' once again, he was talking before thinking. '' She's a person by the way, not a creature from Mordor...'' then he noticed Florence's expression. ''Do you think I'm having an affair with her? Trust me, I'm not.'' ''I don't trust you'' she blatantly said. ''But I trust Morgan's ego. She'd never accept to be anyone's side chick. She has to be in the spotlight, she demands full attention, she has to be the one and only. I kind of pity the poor guy that ends up with her.'' Sebastian didn't share that view. ''She's not that bad, you know.'' ''Sebastian!'' he got yelled for the second time in ten minutes, this time by Will. ''You were the one that told us that she was a snake and we believed you. We're on your side, not like Chace and Toby, who are there laughing and having fun.'' But they couldn't finish what they were talking about because someone was making his way into the place: the one and only Chris Evans. Before Sebastian could even wave at him, Damien had already caught him and a second later he was introducing him to Morgan Llewellyn. ''What the hell Damien!'' he hissed. The only thought he had on his head was 'Not Chris, not Chris, not Chris, anyone but Chris.' He had to control himself for ten minutes while watching them talk. Thankfully someone had got the idea of dancing and Morgan had grabbed Jacob's arm and jumped to the dancefloor. Sebastian was starting to hate the Mambo Number Five only because he just wanted to be in Jacob Batalon's place so hard it hurt. Some minutes later she was dancing to Dancing Queen with Chace. But the worst was yet to come. It seemed that the world was testing how much jealousy he could bear before snapping. The first notes of Africa by Toto started to sound and he was absolutely scandalised when he saw Chris inviting Morgan to dance this particular song. And she accepted. Of course she was going to accept. Who on earth would reject dancing with Chris Evans? ''I can't believe it!'' he hissed. ''This is our song!'' ''What? Do you have a song with Morgan Llewellyn?!'' Florence just couldn't deal with this situation. She was discovering a side of Sebastian she had never seen before. The side that was very similar to Morgan's chaotic personality. And she didn't like it one bit. ''Just ignore him'' Will answered for him because Sebastian was too concentrated looking a Morgan and Chris. ''He's bewitched. It seems like that woman's exclusive fragance was poisonous after all.'' ''Well...'' Florence said bitterly. ''I don't see Toby, Tom Holland and his friends or Chris Evans bewitched. Not even Chace looks like a dreamy idiot anymore. Only Sebastian is acting like a fool. What does she have anyway?'' ''What she doesn't have'' it seemed like Sebastian was listening after all. The song ended and Morgan and Chris stayed a bit further apart from the rest of the group, sitting alone in a table. Sebastian was fuming. ''I have to stop this.'' he stood up and went towards Chris and Morgan. ''Sebastian, don't!'' Florence was getting desperate. ''Just don't do it!'' but he didn't listen. Chris and Morgan were having a normal conversation. None of them was flirting, that was absolutely out of the question. They were just talking about their pets. Chris was telling Morgan all about his dog, Dodger. ''...I love him. He's like my son. He's so unique... do you have dogs?'' There was nothing that Morgan liked more than talking about her animals. ''I have two corgis. Well, one is actually my brother's. We named them after Doctor Who characters. Mine's Doctor River Song and Clint's Captain Jack Harkness. I also have cats.'' ''Oh, I like cats too, no more than dogs but they can be nice. Are yours named after fictional characters too?'' ''No. I named them after Elizabethan people. I have Sir Francis Drake, William Shakespeare and Lady Elizabeth Tudor, who was Queen Elizabeth's name when she was Henry VIII's bastard daughter. It's impressive the amount of history you can learn through Shakespeare plays. Oh, and I rescued a cat here in New York. I named him Thirteen because of the thirteenth Doctor, who's finally a female, and I was born on a thirteen.'' She didn't mention Sebastian in the story. He had been the one that had actually found Thirteen after all. But Chris, or anyone else, didn't needed to know that. ''I was also born on a thirteenth. But of June.'' And also Sebastian, Morgan thought. But of August. Great. The triumvirate of the Thirteens. ''And I also have a sheep'' she added before making the mistake of blurting stuff about Sebastian in front of Chris Evans. ''Lady Macbeth....'' she was about to explain why she had chosen that name when she was interrupted by Sebastian. ''And here comes the Grinch.'' ''Chris, we need to talk.'' Chris was as surprised as Morgan by his attitude. ''Well, hello Sebastian. I had no idea that you were here. I haven't seen you yet.'' ''Yeah, yeah, we need to talk'' he basically dragged Chris away from Morgan, who wondered if he was jealous of her as she was talking with his beloved Chris Evans. ''Seb, are you okay?'' Chris was a bit concerned. ''What are you doing talking to her?'' he asked with bothering to answer Chris' question. ''Sebastian, are you drunk?'' Chris grabbed Sebastian's face and looked at his eyes. ''You're not. Not on alcohol at least. On jealousy, maybe. What the hell is wrong with you, Sebastian? You have a girlfriend and you're being a jerk to me because I was talking to Morgan about pets! Be honest, do you like her?'' Sebastian was a bit ashamed. He had gone there with the intention of call out Chris but the tables had turned in a second and Chris had got him straight in the wound. ''She's my co-star'' ''And? Do you think you're entitled to control her life just because she's your co-star?'' Chris laughed. ''Please, do me a favour and calm yourself down. I know you like her and you're conflicted so I'm letting this one pass as it never happened but... make up your mind.'' Sebastian found it weird that he was told the same by two different people, Michael and Chris. ''Do it sooner rather than later because you'll lose your girlfriend, Morgan Llewellyn and who knows who else, okay?'' Chris patted his shoulder with tenderness and a bit of pity. ''Chris, one more thing...'' he looked as if he was fearing the answer. ''Do you like her?'' ''I met her half an hour ago. She's a nice woman. Interesting to talk to, very charismatic. Now I know why the general public likes her so much.'' Defeated, he went back to his table. Chris went back to Morgan who was very intrigued to know what the hell Sebastian wanted. ''He was jealous'' said Chris before Morgan asked anything. ''What an idiot. Does he fear me to be a bad influence on you?'' ''He wasn't jealous of you. He was jealous of me talking to you.'' Morgan looked at him with her eyebrows raised. Her face remained unemotional. ''That is even worse. The guy has a girlfriend.'' Chris didn't believe her for a second. Maybe her unemotional voice, relaxed body language and the expression of her eyes were pretty convincing but Chris was absolutely sure that there was something else between these two. ''Whatever Sebastian feels for you, is mutual, isn't it?'' There was no need to keep lying. Chris had caught her. ''How do you know? Nevermind... look, it's weird. We hardly ever talk let alone touch if it's not strictly scripted. So, I have no idea what the hell is going on.'' She was being honest, there were days that she was really confused about what the hell was going on. ''There's something implicit between you two and you'll never admit it to each other because you're too proud for that. And he also has a girlfriend, which complicates things even more. And he's scared to leave her because what if everything backfires and he ends up staying alone. And he's probably very confused. Nice situation he got himself in.'' ''Wow, you're good in this. Anyway, I won't do anything as long as he has a girlfriend. Cheating is always wrong and he should know it. And I'm no one's second choice. Well, maybe the second woman to play the Doctor after Jodie Whittaker who's amazing. Anyway, I won't ever be 'the other woman'. That's simple humiliating.'' and she wasn't counting on the fact that she had been his fan for years. Embarrassing stuff to the limit. ''Of course it is. You deserve...'' He was about to say 'better' but Morgan wasn't listening anymore. She was looking at the door, where Joe Alwyn was making his entrance (late, by the way) accompanied by a woman that everyone in this room knew. Taylor Swift. ''Oh my God.'' she mumbled, looking at Joe talking to Damien and introducing Taylor to him. ''I've loved this woman since 2009, and I can't believe she's in front of me.'' ''I saw her live once'' Chris commented. ''She's really good.'' She was going to tell something to Chris but it was too late because Joe was already there. ''Hey, Morgan!'' he cheerfully exclaimed. ''And... Oh My God, Chris Evans. Captain America. Wow.'' he was a bit dumfounded for a minute and he wasn't the only one. He was fangirling with Chris just like Morgan was fangirling with Taylor. The difference was that Morgan didn't let it show and Joe's eyes basically shouted 'I LOVE CHRIS EVANS'. ''Hi, I'm Taylor!'' Morgan was surprised that bloody Taylor Swift was introducing herself in such a simple manner. ''Joe told me a lot about you. Believe it or not I've seen you before! I saw Lady Macbeth with Joe in 2016. I had to put on a wig just to pass as a normal person. But you were fantastic, really moving and wonderful. When Joe told me who you were I basically clapped like a seal.'' Morgan was sure that she was looking as starstruck as Joe. And she had performed in front of Taylor Swift in 2016 and she was learning about it in 2018. Nice. ''I've admired you since 2009. I know all of your lyrics, they've helped me out so many times to count.'' They were praising each other for a while and then went on talking about whatever that crossed their minds. Acting, cast mates, Hollywood, childhood stories. Anything. On his table Sebastian was with a wide smile. She had never loved Taylor Swift as much as at that moment. He wanted to stick a poster of her in his room. Thanks to her, Morgan had moved away from Chris. ''Someone should call Lord Voldemort to come and pick up his people.'' said Will, pointing at Morgan and Taylor with his head. ''They kind of look alike except from the hair colour.'' Sebastian disagreed with everything he had said. ''No. They don't look similar at all.'' once again he was making the stupid mistake of talking before thinking, ''Morgan has no comparison. She's the most beautiful woman in the world, hands down.'' He knew immediately that he shouldn't have said that. At least not in front of his girlfriend. ''You know what?'' she asked with coldness in her voice. ''Enjoy the rest of your night.'' Without saying a thing more, she stood up and left. ''Florence, wait, I'm sorry!'' ''Just, stay here, okay?'' Will was taking the situation under control before Sebastian made more of a mess causing a public scandal. ''I'll drive her home and make sure she's okay. You screwed this up.'' On the way out Florence didn't want to look at Morgan Llewellyn because she was sure that she had her signature sarcastic side smile, buy she did it anyway. And she had been wrong because Morgan was immersed into a conversation with Taylor Swift and hadn't noticed anything at all. Florence hated that harpy more than anyone she had ever met. Sebastian was looking around, making sure no one had noticed that fight with his girlfriend. But there was only Harrison Osterfield on a near table, typing something on his phone, not aware of anything. Morgan only noticed that something had happened when she had got a text from Harrison with all the gossip. And Taylor had also noticed something. ''I think your co-star is in trouble'' she said. Of course that Joe had told Taylor all about Sebastian and Morgan's constant bickering on set. ''I think he is'' Morgan was still looking at her phone. ''Are you two still fighting?'' she asked and Morgan wanted to laugh. Not even in her wildest dreams she could have imagined that someday she was going to be a topic of conversation for Taylor Swift and her boyfriend. ''Sort of.'' she simply said. She glanced at Sebastian who was looking a bit miserable and lonely. And she felt pity for him. Curse the fangirl feelings. ''I don't know why I'm doing this but... do you want to meet him?'' she asked Taylor who simply nodded. She made her way towards Sebastian's table with Taylor closely following. When they got there, they sat at Sebastian's side. ''I don't know what's happening to me, Stan but... I feel sorry for you.'' ''I didn't know you were capable of feeling, Llewellyn. This is a nice surprise.'' ''Oh, and... Sebastian, this is Taylor Swift. Taylor, this is Sebastian Stan.'' For some reason Sebastian wasn't very excited at meeting one of the most famous persons in the world. He was more busy guessing why Morgan had decided to talk to him at all. ''Nice to meet you. I really like your songs.'' it was the most stupid thing he had ever said but luckily for him, Taylor didn't seem to mind. ''And I saw you in I, Tonya. You were absolutely fantastic. It was outrageous that the Academy snubbed you. As outrageous as Morgan not getting nominated to the Lawrence Olivier.'' ''And Red deserved a Grammy'' Morgan and Sebastian said at the same time. It was the first time in his life that he admitted to liking that particular album. Morgan kept her intense gaze fixed on Sebastian. ''Look, I'm going to be honest here'' she suddenly said. ''I mean it when I said that I was sorry for you. You look so unhappy and lonely here that it makes me feel bad. You should be with us, dancing, talking and having fun. Make up your mind, Sebastian.'' this was the third time he was told of this in just one night. And somehow Morgan Llewellyn was more convincing than Michael or Chris. ''It's time for you to do what you want, not what you need. Just like I do.'' He looked at her with raised eyebrows. But what Morgan had just said made perfect sense. ''And does it work?'' he asked with genuine curiosity. He couldn't believe he was planning to follow Morgan's life advice. ''Just look at me! I've always done whatever the hell I wanted and look where I am!'' she got closer to him. ''I think it's worth a try.'' she whispered on his ear. ''Let's take a picture together! For sure it'd get attention! Can we kiss you on the cheeks?'' ''Go ahead'' he tried to keep calm. Morgan placed her head on his shoulder and he almost got dizzy with her fragance. She smelled like diamonds, fun, excitement, the city after dark and passionate nights. Before he knew she was 'kissing' him on the cheek, but barely touching him. Taylor had just wrapped an arm around his shoulder and making a face. And that was the picture. Just in this moment, Hey Ya by Outkast started to blast throughout the place. Even Damien was dancing. ''This song!'' Taylor exclaimed with a big grin. ''We have to dance!'' ''This song is my childhood'' Morgan and Taylor stood up at the same time. Sebastian thought that Morgan was exaggerating when she had said that this song was her childhood as he had been in his early twenties when that song came out. Then he remembered that Morgan was just twenty five and she was like ten or eleven when she was listening to Outkast. Yeah, that song was her childhood. He saw Morgan making her way to the dancefloor but she stopped in the middle of the way and came back to where he was. ''Come'' she suddenly said. He was expecting anything from Morgan but not this. ''What?'' he blinked a couple of times, confused. ''Come with us and have fun''. She extended her perfectly manicured hand and without thinking it twice he took it in his, with a smile on his face.

Morgan Llewellyn during this whole chapter:

P.S. my Morgan is painful to deal with but I love her.

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restuillahi · 4 years

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Incompetence. Sekarang aku bisa meneriakkannya keras-keras di depan cermin.

Harus kuakui, butuh waktu yang cukup lama untuk bisa mengakui bahwa I am incompetent in this field, waktu yang sangat lama mungkin. But I let it all out tonight. Aku tidak becus di bidang ini.

Selama ini berpura-pura bisa di depan orang lain, berusaha terlihat mampu, walaupun sebenarnya aku sangat kepayahan. It was not about to impress everyone, it was just me covering my true weakness. Itu juga yang membuatku memiliki keyakinan bahwa semua orang membenciku, aku hanya takut they will point out all my lies.

Did I consciously lie? Not really, aku tidak pernah sungguh-sungguh berniat menipu siapapun, sungguh. But I have to admit, how on earth someone who is unable to code a fully functioning program is even allowed to work at a network operation center? I mean, this is a place where everyone deals with server, internet, etc. and suddenly there is this new guy who doesn't even understand what a network is.

Rasanya seperti mencuri, digaji sebesar ini hanya untuk menjadi a piece that doesn't fit. Trust me when I say I'm a complete useless, kehilangan aku tidak membuat institusi ini rugi sedikitpun kecuali pada waktu dan biaya yang mereka investasikan. If they fire me, they aren't losing a talented worker or a future leader, I'm neither.

Aku sudah sejak lama jadi procrastinator. Menunggu sampai detik terakhir, atau bahkan past the deadline, untuk mengerjakan sesuatu. I used to be that kind of dilligent and obedient student but series of failures get the best of me. Sampai setelah mulai bekerja ini, aku masih terus menunda untuk memulai pekerjaan, let alone finishing it. Am I trying to be a cancer? Nope, I was just wasting my time trying to strengthen myself mentally.

How did I end up here in the first place? Aku yakin karena orang-orang kasihan padaku. Dosen-dosen yang sering aku dekati dan aku ajak bicara, dengan harapan agar aku dapat tambahan materi atau a little extra explanation, mereka pasti kasihan melihat anak kecil ini lambat sekali otaknya untuk memahami pelajaran yang bisa diterima oleh orang lain, sehingga mungkin memberiku tambahan nilai yang seharusnya tak pantas kudapatkan. To be honest, sampai sekarang aku masih selalu merasa anxious tiap melihat pertanyaan atau rumus matematika. Sampai detik ini pun aku selalu kehilangan percaya diri tiap melihat baris-baris program yang dibuat orang lain apalagi itu rekan seangkatanku. Oh ya, sekarang aku bisa memahami kenapa ada yang bilang aku pencitraan karena banyak bertanya, atau menyebutku penjilat karena banyak mendekati dosen.

Empat setengah tahun lalu, saat aku memilih untuk mengikuti seleksi sekolah yang mengubah hidupku ini, aku tidak berambisi apapun kecuali hanya ingin lift my family off of poverty. I was not that brilliant high school kids who wanted to be the best, who wanted to be the number one. Damn it, I was barely sane saat aku dinyatakan bisa naik ke tingkat dua, di akhir tahun pertama perkuliahan yang nyaris membuatku took my life. I was never that kind of bright youths who want to change the world for the better or to be the one who inspires everyone else. Aku hanya ingin bekerja dan dapat upah, bisa membantu keluargaku, atau at the very least aku bisa mencukupi kebutuhanku sendiri dan tidak menjadi beban. I just don't want to be a parasite in society.

Sekarang, impian kecilku berbalik memburuku, menghantui setiap lelap dan sadarku. Jadi pegawai, digaji layak, but I don't feel like I deserve it all. Tanpa bermaksud untuk menjadi makhluk hina yang kurang bersyukur, sampai detik ini aku masih seringkali berimajinasi, membayangkan hal-hal kecil yang serba nyaris di hidupku. Bagaimana jika ketika seleksi aku tidak dipanggil sebagai peserta cadangan untuk ikut tes tahap terakhir? Bagaimana jika aku tidak mendapat dosen kalkulus yang begitu murah hati memberikanku nilai minimum, yang menurutku seharusnya aku dapat D atau E dan kemudian D.O.? Bagaimana jika aku tidak mendapat dosen pembimbing yang begitu mengusahakanku agar aku tidak perlu mengulang skripsi, padahal aku sudah menyiapkan diri untuk menjalani tahun kelima? Bagaimana jika aku ditugaskan di bagian yang mengharuskanku memahami pemrograman secara mendalam sebagai inti pekerjaanku? I was just lucky, too much luck. Tuhan sangat sayang pada keluargaku sehingga tidak membiarkan mereka melihat orang payah ini benar-benar gagal.

Apakah aku ini orang yang kurang bersyukur? I'll tell you what, I'm so grateful of the chances God gives me to avoid the worst things to happen in my life. Namun aku menyadari, I was and am just too lucky, and became too comfortable, until I ended up like this. Totally useless and insignificant, having no skill whatsoever. I still don't deserve all of this, I'm wasting precious resources that should've been given to someone else.

I thank everyone who helped me through all the impossibility I faced. I am very sorry I am not what you've all expected me to be. The shame is on me.

— I finished writing this on April 10, 2020. Hours after somehow I put the sharp side of a knife against my left wrist. I can never forget how I suddenly remember that God would give a harsh punishment in the afterlife, had I proceed.

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artificialqueens · 7 years

Text

Finding You (Witney) - pureCAMP

A/N – I, like a horrific government employee, enjoy capitalizing on things that are stressing us all out in order to gain attention.

(this is a note from nymph for the light of my life pureCAMP to say i love you the most and i hope everyone reads this because i cried and as we all know i am heartless)

Right when it had all kicked off, Alaska had told Willam and Courtney fair and square. She wasn’t going to take sides, she wasn’t going to get involved, she’d sit back and let them do their thing. Interfering never worked – this was something Alaska knew well. If they wanted to fight, fine. They could fight. As long as it didn’t get in the way of Alaska’s main priority, their newly-formed band, they could fight as much as they wanted.

And it had worked. They argued when Alaska wasn’t around, caused stirs on social media, hashed things out the way drag queens do best – dramatically. Alaska was content to let them just deal with it, uninterested in their petty, mysterious drama, until it had gone too far.

Something had happened on the tour bus whilst Alaska was out picking up some snacks, she knew it. The air was filled with that tense silence, the one that not even Alaska could break. As much as she could try and start a conversation with one of them, or bring up a universal topic they could all chat mindlessly about, nothing happened. Both were clearly fuming over something, but Alaska was fucked if she knew what. Their whole fight meant nothing to her. She, along with everybody else on the fucking internet, had no idea why they were fighting. But she’d had enough of it.

So it had been tense. That was fine, Alaska could cope with that. Hell, she’d been the source of months and months of tension, way back when on the BOTS tour. Whether Willam and Courtney had broken up, that she didn’t know, but their behaviour certainly reminded her of her own. Still, she made the foolish mistake of assuming they’d remain professional, as they had so far, and continue with the show.

Oh, how wrong she’d been.

“Courtney, do you have any more of that super pretty rainbow glitter? I lost mine back in Colorado.” Alaska drawled, amused at her half-painted face in the mirror.

Courtney handed hers over. “Don’t use it all, I still want some.”

“Thank you! Willam, isn’t this glitter so pretty?”

Willam barely glanced at the makeup product in Alaska’s hand, nodding stiffly and resuming her beat. The two blondes were seated either side of Alaska, facing away from each other, with Alaska left in the middle like the single child in the midst of a divorce. At the very least, Alaska thought to herself, her and Sharon didn’t have any tragic lovechildren left behind in their wake of their breakup.

Their stupid fight was causing more stress than Alaska wanted to admit. She felt torn between wanting to smack them both upside the head, wanting to shake Willam until she stopped being a dick, and wanting to throw out their phones and lock them in a room together. They’d unwittingly dragged Alaska into the feud with every mention of the AAA Girls that cropped up, leaving Alaska to feel strangely alone and distressed. If she spent too much time with Courtney, would Willam get pissed at her? If she went to Willam for a chat before Courtney, would Courtney think she was taking sides?

It was ridiculous. They were grown men – though none of them were particularly masculine, the point still stood – and yet they were arguing like teenagers. They had fans to please, shows to perform, a perfect facade of fame and friendship to keep up.

Alaska didn’t know who she was more annoyed at, despite trying her best to look at them both in the same positive light as she had before. Willam, for one, had made the feud known to everyone. She was the one openly claiming she was pissed at her, unfollowing her social medias, throwing shade in that cutesy trademark Willam way. On the other hand, Courtney hadn’t said anything, somewhat playing the angel in a situation Alaska knew involved her as much as Willam. If the nightly screaming matches were anything to go by, Courtney had played her part too.

“Willam, can you lace me up please?” Alaska turned her back to the queen, gesturing to her loose corset.

“Sure. Let me know if you want it tighter or looser. Love the wig, bitch.” Willam commented.

Alaska ran her fingers through her hair and smiled. “Some give like fifty blowjobs for a lacefront like thiiiiis!” She sang in a low voice, hardly even thinking.

Behind her, Willam stiffened. “Done.” She said abruptly.

Of course, Alaska thought. She’s so fucking touchy that if you bring up the song you’re going to be singing later, which happens to be about a wig company that Courtney co-owns, Willam will get pissed. This is just great.

The entire time they’d been getting ready it had been like that – cold, awkward. Alaska felt as though she were walking on eggshells in high heels, an elevated version of the usual idiom. Nothing she said was right. One thing upset Courtney, another irritated Willam. There was just no winning.

Regardless, she pushed on. For the most part, the show had being going well, other than the fact that her two counterparts had refused to interact on stage, at all. It wasn’t like Alaska hadn’t expected it; she was willing to put in the extra legwork and be energetic enough for both of them if it meant some of the drama would die down a little. Then things had taken a turn for the worse.

See, Willam and Courtney had been playing an unspoken game. On stage, they acted as though their fight was a joke. Willam would read Courtney, and Courtney would smile wide – the kind of smile that deliberately indicated bitterness and hatred. It was something akin to a Sharon vs Phi Phi dynamic, only cuntier and more dramatic. Fans went wild watching them, and Alaska would laugh to herself… until she came off stage, and the dynamic worsened to full on arguments.

That was exactly what they’d been doing that night, until it went a step too far.

“Thank you so much for all the love!” Courtney called out. “You’re all amazing, and-“

Willam cut her off. “How is she though?!” She tossed her head, the fans screaming as her wig flipped over her shoulders.

Obviously irritated by her vanity, Courtney spoke up. “You just interrupted me!”

“Whatever, bitch.” Willam laughed, snorting the way she always did. “Someone had to. You know in the end of Tuck Tape, where the song trails off to Courtney talking? That’s actually how this bitch talks. It’s never ending. Someone has to shut her up.”

The laughter that followed was nervous, like the fans didn’t know whether they should be laughing or not. Alaska stood in the centre of the stage, her heart pounding. Was tonight going to be the night they blew up in public? If so, she wasn’t sure how she was going to deal with the fallout. She gripped her microphone nervously, twisting it between her fingers as she watched the interaction.

“How is everyone tonight?” Alaska butted in, desperate to ease the situation in the only way she knew how. Talking to the fans, addressing them and practically begging for their love. When there was a problem, she could always rely on crazed fans to fix it.

The loud cheering that followed her question appeared to have worked to silence the argument. Both of the queens either side of her fell quiet, letting the audience scream their love towards the three.

“Oh, shut up Willam.”

Fuck. Alaska couldn’t control her features in time, her face contorting into a wince as she watched Courtney – sugar-sweet, typically kind Courtney – snap back at Willam.

Willam’s eyes narrowed. “You really think I’m gonna listen to you? Cute, that’s real cute.”

“Fuck you.”

Of course, to fans the argument didn’t sound that intense. Sure, it was a little awkward, but it was just forced, right? They were just drumming up some excitement for their tour, trying to get talked about on social media, that was all. However, Alaska felt her heart drop into her stomach. She was the one noticing the subtle changes in the tones of voice, the angry glances, the cocked eyebrows and clenched fists. Things were definitely going to escalate – and quickly.

With her parting blow, Courtney tossed the microphone to the floor, the sound equipment emitting a horrible squeal as it landed, and stormed off the stage. A loud gasp swept across the arena as it dawned on the crowd that maybe, just maybe, this wasn’t fake after all. Panicked, Alaska set down her own microphone in the stand and bolted after her friend, not bothering to check if Willam was going to follow or not. If her prediction was correct, Willam would be behind her shortly – most likely to continue the argument.

Upon the frantic questioning from Alaska, the crew behind the scenes managed to provide her with some vital information. One, Courtney was angry. Two, she wasn’t in the dressing room. Three, she had ran outside, which meant she was most likely fuming in the tour bus. Brilliant. There was nothing like an enclosed space to bring out the worst in a fighting drag queen. Again, Alaska knew this well.

“COURTNEY!” Alaska made the mistake of yelling, bursting through the fire doors that led out into the car park. Instantly, a horde of fans were upon her, descending down in an unholy chorus of ‘Hieeee!’s and outstretched hands clutching Sharpies.

Alaska pushed through them as best as she could, stammering apologies and excuses as she fought her way out. Usually she would never say no to a fan wanting an autograph, reasoning that it was a minute or two of her life that may seem trivial, but meant the world to those dedicated kids. Even so, the logic this time dictated that if she didn’t refuse and run to the bus, she might have to arrive to a destroyed tour bus, an angry Courtney, and an equally angry Willam squaring up for a fight.

Finally, the fans ceased their swarming, Alaska forcing her way through the last of them as the tour bus loomed ever closer. As quickly as she could in her huge shoes, she ran up the steps to the door, typing in the passcode with her nails and dashing inside.

“Courtney!” She yelled again, her voice desperate. Her eyes landed on the Australian queen, red in the face and breathing heavily. Some papers that Alaska guessed had once been on the table were now scattered in disarray across the floor.

“COURTNEY!” Came another yell, this one angrier rather than desperate. Willam wasn’t far behind.

Shit. Alaska had to act fast. Her mind started racing, but before a solution could come into fruition, Willam burst onto the bus.

“Do you have any idea what you’ve just done, you stupid little slut?! You’ve basically ruined this entire fucking tour and our careers as we know it! Are you fucking happy yet, Courtney? Have you done enough? Or is there something else you’d like to fuck up?” Willam’s eyes were glowing with hatred, her skin mottled with fury.

Courtney scoffed. “Oh, I’m the stupid slut here?! Have you ever looked at yourself, or is it too confusing to see someone who looks just like you in the mirror? Can you even comprehend the function of a reflective surface, or do you just see something shiny with your face on it and go ‘Ooh, pretty!’”

“Stop changing the fucking subject! You know exactly why I’m fucking mad at you, don’t try and pretend this has anything to do with fucking vanity or some shit!”

Try as she might, Alaska couldn’t muster a single word. She stood in between the pair, watching them fight.

“Of course I know! How could I not?! You’re so fucking see-through, Willam!” Courtney shouted, raking her hands through her hair in frustration. “You’re jealous because I decided to do something about my lonely love life and find somebody with MTV! That’s why you’re so fucking pressed!”

Alaska frowned. “Wait-”

“Shut it, Alaska.” Willam cursed. “You think I’m jealous?! Oh, sweet lord above, give me strength. Why the fuck would I be jealous of you?! What do you have that I don’t?!”

Courtney was trembling. “A life outside of the fucking friends-with-benefits bullshit, that’s what I have that you don’t! You’re obsessed! We hashed this out a long time ago, Willam! You said it yourself! No feelings, no strings, no nothing! You’re not my fucking boyfriend! I’ve done nothing wrong!”

There it was, the truth. After so long of arguing, so long of not knowing why they were so angry at one another, it was coming out. It was as if a plug had been pulled, and now everything was spilling out of Courtney and Willam beyond their control.

Alaska couldn’t believe it. What was she even supposed to focus on? Her best friends and their – supposedly former – friends-with-benefits contract? The fact that Willam was jealous of Courtney going on dates? Courtney’s sheer anger?

“I – what? This is what this arguing is about?” Alaska cried in disbelief.

Willam ignored her. “Christ, Courtney, I know I’m not your fucking boyfriend! But we talked about this! Anything relationship-y happens, we break this shit off for good! You don’t just – you don’t just run off to go be single on MTV and then still get to reap the benefits from me, fucking leading me on!”

“Leading you on?!” Courtney mocked. “Well fuck me, now I’ve heard it all! How am I leading you on?! Do you have some kind of fucking crush on me?!”

Willam faltered. Alaska seized the opportunity.

“GUYS! Will you shut the fuck up? I can’t believe you’re arguing over a fucking friends-with-benefits pact gone wrong!” She exclaimed, looking between the two.

Willam’s face twisted into an evil snarl, her fiery gaze honing on on Alaska. “Oh, don’t pretend you don’t know what I’m fucking feeling.” She spat maliciously. “Everyone knows about you and Sharon, and I know for a fact it tears you up inside to watch her flirting, kissing or fucking with other guys. You know exactly how this feels.”

Alaska froze.

That was a low blow. How did Willam know about her and Sharon? Had she been told? Did she just pick up on the chemistry between them? A mixture of panic and anger bubbled up inside her, creating waves of nausea in the pit of Alaska’s stomach. If Willam knew, who else knew? Who had she told, if anyone?

“I-I-” She stuttered, suddenly shell-shocked. “ H-How did you – but we’re not – and –”

“That’s right.” Willam sneered. “It’s common knowledge to everyone with a functioning brain that you and Needles haven’t been able to let each other go. But you’re the one with the emotional ties, aren’t you? She doesn’t care about you. That’s why it ended all those years ago.”

Tears filled Alaska’s eyes. “You’re lying. She does care about me.”

“Oh, really? I think you care about her more than she’ll ever care about you.” Willam laughed cruelly. “I bet it killed you seeing us together. You saw us kiss at West 5 during London Pride, I know it made your blood boil. But she cares?”

“She does!” Alaska insisted, a pain in her chest. “She does care about me, I know it.”

“Funny, she said the exact opposite when she was inside me. Guess she’s as good as Courtney when it comes to lying to get what she wants.”

The tears that had been threatening to spill over finally broke free, rolling down Alaska’s cheeks as Willam’s words appeared to have their desired effect. Her hands flew to her mouth, trying to cover her trembling lips as the carefully-shaded eye makeup she’d applied earlier disintegrated into black tear-tracks that stained her foundation.

At the same time, Courtney saw red. “Are you done ruining lives?! Look at what you’ve done to Alaska, look how much you’ve upset her! She was the one thing keeping us two afloat in this fucked up little dispute and now you’ve gone and hurt her, too! When will enough be enough?!”

Alaska’s vision was blurry from her tears, her shoulders shaking, but she heard the telltale choked-up quality to Willam’s voice that indicated she too had cracked.

“Why don’t you tell me, Court? Why don’t you tell me?” She replied, her previous anger fading into what sounded like sadness. “Why has it taken me hurting Alaska for you to see that I feel the same as she does?”

Courtney’s mouth opened in a silent gasp. “You… you what?”

“It hurts. It hurts that you don’t care about me like I care about you. Why is it that you didn’t see that until I’d hurt Alaska in the same way?”

Then, “Come here, girl.”

Alaska didn’t need telling twice, latching onto Willam and letting out the rest of her sobs. The older queen sighed and hugged her close, barely holding back her own tears as she rubbed Alaska’s back to try and comfort her. A little way across from them, hardly ten feet, Courtney’s gaze softened.

“I… I was afraid of looking. I was afraid if I looked to you I’d see something that I didn’t want to. I couldn’t – I couldn’t let myself get worked up on false hope that maybe, just maybe, you’d…”

She trailed off. “…care about me.”

There was a long pause. For one, prolonged moment, everyone took the time to process what they needed to. No jumping to conclusions. No arguing back. Just a moment of quiet, profound understanding. It was broken by Willam letting out a teary laugh.

“You bitch. Get over here.”

And then Courtney was running towards them, her arms wide open, enveloping both Alaska and Willam in an enormous hug, apologies spilling from her lips faster than any of them could comprehend. Just like that, in a moment, all of the pent-up anger and heartache was released. Both blondes wrapped their arms around Alaska, using her as a link like they always did, reuniting.

“I’m sorry, Lasky.” Willam sniffed. “I’m a h-horrible friend. I shouldn’t have – shouldn’t have lied and tried to hurt you like that. We all know that when it comes to you, Sharon’s as whipped as cream. Of course she cares.”

Alaska giggled in spite of herself. “Can I wriggle free so I can call her? Pretty please?”

Willam and Courtney shared a look, before laughing weakly and nodding. Untangling herself from their grip, Alaska made her way out of the embrace and smiled at her friends, watching how naturally their hands slipped into one another’s to be held. She collected her phone from where she’d left it on the middle of the table and dialled the familiar number.

“Any reason you’re calling me at five in the morning?” Came the grumbled greeting, blaring out of her phone’s speaker for the whole tour bus to hear.

Alaska pulled a face. “Oh shit, sorry! Did I wake you?”

Sharon must’ve noticed how thick Alaska’s voice sounded, because she didn’t answer the question. “You okay, doll? You don’t sound too good.”

“I’m – I’m fine.” Alaska reassured her. “I just – I wanted to ask something.”

She could hear the sound of bedsheets rustling. “Go ahead, baby.”

“Do you love me?”

Alaska instantly winced. Had she really pressed on about asking such a heavy question at five in the fucking morning? She was officially worse than all of Willam and Courtney’s fighting combined.

“Of course, pumpkin. Is something wrong? Everything okay? You can talk to me.”

Across from her, Alaska saw Willam start to laugh. “I’m fine. That’s all, but I gotta go now. I’ll call you back.”

After Sharon had said her goodbyes – another ten minutes down the phone, of course – Alaska hung up, turning to her friends with a smile.

“Well,” Courtney said. “There’s your answer. Pretty conclusive.”

Alaska’s phone buzzed with a twitter notification.

Willam - @willam – Aug. 24th

All’s well that ends well, I guess.

#willam belli #alaska thunderfuck #courtney act #aaa girls #witney #shalaska #purecamp #rpdr fanfiction

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dowagerintraining · 7 years

Text

Asking For Help

Hello everyone

I have posted this on facebook, but I am hoping that some of the people on Tumblr, even though we have never met, might have a little sympathy for my story, and may be willing to help me out. If you can’t, or don’t want to, I don’t blame you. After all, for all that I write #Banna fanfic and share silly memes and cat pictures, I am just a random bunch of pixels on the internet to most of you. Some of you know me from Tumblr, a handful of you know me in real life, and many of you known me from fanfiction.net, where I write under the same username. Some of you don’t know me at all. I am at my wits end right now. And frankly willing to try anything. Anything at all. So here’s the story. My husband and I have been trying to move to New Zealand for the past two years. I have an interview for a job there tomorrow, to start at the end of January. It might all be about to come together. And in those few moments, it all might be about to fall apart financially. I don’t know how to make this work any more, for him, for me, and for our beloved fur babies, our beautiful cats. I need to ask for help, and so this is what I’m doing. Here is the link to the GoFundMe that I have set up. But if you want the details, you can also access them under the cut.

https://www.gofundme.com/help-the-halls-get-to-new-zealand

I’m not truly believing that I am doing this. But I guess that nobody who starts a ‘GoFundMe’ ever imagines themselves in this position. It’s 1 o’clock in the morning and I can’t sleep, and can’t get my brain to switch off and wind down because I can’t see a way through this right now. So hello everyone. I am asking for your help. Many of you may already be aware that we, my husband Spike and I, have been investigating moving to New Zealand. We’ve been pursuing this for many reasons. We’ve been looking into this for two years now and this is absolutely the right thing for us to do, to secure our future prosperity, to guarantee our own going health and well-being and to give us the life that we need in order to be healthy and happy people.

And I need to ask for your help towards making this happen.

This is not a honeymoon. It’s not a wild dream holiday, trekking through beautiful middle earth wilderness. It is not the trip of a lifetime. It is a solid, well researched and absolutely necessary change to our lives.

1) we need a clean break from the UK, to leave our old lives behind and build a future. We both have so much baggage and we know that this is our best hope to make a firm and final break and get on with building our lives. My husband Spike has worked hard to overcome a rocky start in life. Those of you who know us personally know that he has fought a brave battle against mental health problems, and with support and encouragement he can defeat this and life a healthy and wonderful life. However, living here in the UK is like living in a personal haunted house, full of many of the worst memories and fears, and we need to move away in order for him to gain his emotional and mental freedom.

2) the brexit process and changes to FE funding means that funding for my job (English and Maths in adult education) may not be so plentiful or readily available as it has been before and I need to make sure I can work in a career to support my family. I have already had to change jobs every 1-2 years as companies can lose funding and go bust, or hand back contracts, with very little notice. Job stability does not exist in my sector, and after 7+ years of this, I am exhausted and not sure how much more I can take.

3) the education system in NZ is an excellent match for me. I didn’t choose NZ because LOTR was pretty, I chose it because I read their national curriculum and fell in love. I realised I had been teaching on the wrong side of the world. This isn’t speculation, I know this. I have already completed my NZ teaching course. I excelled at it. My professor told me that so far in my career I had been ‘a fish in the wrong ocean’ and I needed to ‘get out to NZ and start working there as soon as possible.’ I had a brilliant experience working at a NZ high school, far better than any other place/sector I have worked in while in the UK. I passed my course with flying colours, scoring ‘Highly Developed’ in two categories of criteria and ‘Well Developed’ in the third. This is where I am supposed to be.

4) NZ is an excellent match for us. A better work life balance, good future prospects, a healthcare system that works for our needs, and education system that works for my career.

Many of you knew this already, but it never hurts to write it down. And now I am going to ask for your help.

So why are you asking for help now? What’s changed?

Well, in short, I’m starting to get offered interviews for positions in New Zealand, and suddenly the clock is ticking awfully loudly.

I have one coming up tomorrow, and the chances of me being offered the job are looking EXTREMELY promising. There are another three schools who have asked for my references and been in touch about potential interviews. After two long years of trying, these people want me to go and work for them. The schools are looking for someone to start in late January 2018.

All of the hard work so far has paid off, and it has been a long two year slog. This stuff is long and complicated and costs so far have included:

1) Applying for passports for both of us (£145)

2) Applying for two different police certificates (approx. £100)

3) Assessing all of my qualifications to have them accepted by New Zealand’s Education Council (£370)

4) Enrolling on and completing the TERP (Teacher Education Refresher Programme). This included fees of £2000, Flights to NZ of £1200, living expenses for the month, including £400 rent, £400 food and £200 travel costs. I also had to cover our rent at home and Spike’s living costs for the month, which were the same again. All in all, completing the TERP has cost me more than £5500.

5) Applying for my registration as a teacher with the education council. (£150)

Due to the strict rules on exporting animals, we’ve had to start planning for Boomer and Athena to come with us months in advance. This has included Rabies vaccinations (£100) and blood tests to confirm the success of the vaccinations (£220).

This process, so far, has cost over £6000, and we are barely half way there.

Talk about what the support will mean to you

Sitting down tonight, knowing that I have an interview tomorrow, I am suddenly faced with the true facts of how much money we need to find in the next three months and I don’t know where we’re going to get it.

We had hoped that we were going to get some help financially relocating. But this support is not available to non-Kiwis.

I had been pursuing a legal case against an irresponsible lender, but after six months I have still not heard whether my case is going to be fully investigated, and even if it is, the outcome could take months more. One by one our avenues of income are closing off, and just as things are looking likely, my hopes for ways to pay for them are looking close to non-existent.

I am already working as hard as I can. I work full time, in a demanding job. I run my own tutoring business, offering private maths and English tuition. I have, at the moment, 13 clients on top of my full time job. I teach, on average, two people per day for intensive 1-to-1 support, on top of working full time, and three people have sessions with me each day on weekends, sometimes for two hours each. I don’t have days off unless someone cancels an appointment. I used all of my paid annual leave to go to New Zealand and work full time for my placement. On top of that, I took on a third job this year marking 720 GCSE examination scripts over the summer. At peak season, I worked from 7am until 10pm Monday to Friday, and 9am to 10pm Saturday and 9am to 6pm on Sunday. I felt guilty for taking Sunday night off, but I needed some time in the week to do my university coursework.

I wish that was an exaggeration. It is not.

I cannot physically squeeze any more pennies out of my time. Everything I have that is worth something, that I can physically bear to part with, has been sold. The car will be sold to cover the remaining finance owing on it before we go. We are in rented accommodation. Our furniture and fittings are second hand and falling apart, but will have to make the trip with us. We don’t have any more assets that can be liquidised.

Your support will mean that we can do this, that I can stop working myself into a state for hours at a time, unable to sleep in the small hours of the morning, on a hair trigger temper every time someone reminds me what all this is going to cost, frightened that this dream, this chance of a healthy and happy life, is going to slip through our hands and leave us stranded because I cannot make the numbers add up.

Describe who will benefit

In short … we will. Me, my husband Spike, and our two beloved cats.

Not only will this make our dream come true, it will:

· Offer my husband a genuine chance to overcome his past and secure his health for the future

· Keep our family together, preventing us from having to surrender the cats to a lifetime of rescue centre care. Athena is a three legged cat with complex future needs, Boomer is a black cat, and they are a bonded pair. Their chances of being adopted are statistically extremely low. And even leaving that aside, they are our family, and we cannot leave them behind. They belong with us.

· Allow me to make the move with my physical and mental health intact without driving myself down and through exhaustion and a possible physical breakdown, before arriving and going straight into the equivalent of an NQT year.

Detail what the funds will be used for

At present, this is the breakdown of what we need.

As soon as possible, we need to get our immigration medicals done. These are likely to be complicated and referred to New Zealand for second opinion, as Spike has both physical (diabetes) and mental (PTSD) health issues. I also have physical (asthma) and mental (anxiety) health histories which will need to be referred. The longer this takes, the tighter the deadlines get, and we are now up against a ticking clock.

They cost up to £400 each and can only be done by a specified list of consultants, in a limited number of locations. We need to raise £800 for this as soon as possible

Assuming that I can get an essential skills VISA, this will cost me approximately £200 to apply for. This also needs to be started the day I get a job offer, or as soon as possible after that.

We have received a quote for how much it will cost for us to take Boomer and Athena to New Zealand. The quote is £1700, via one of the very few companies who work with New Zealand’s department for dealing with importing live animals. On top of that, they both need to be in quarantine in Auckland, which needs to be booked and paid for before they can be booked on a flight out. We are looking at costs of up to £2000 to take our furry family members with us, not including going back to Auckland to collect them and transport them to wherever we end up.

Then there’s our own stuff. This is going to have to be (in the case of our outdoor gear) professionally cleaned (to meet rules on contamination prevention regarding organic matter), packed and shipped, and then transported by road to wherever we end up. Including insurance, cleaning and the packing/shipping/delivery, this is going to cost in the region of £2000.

Then, there are our flights. Current prices are looking at around £700 per one way ticket, and we are going to need two. This will enable us to fly economy to New Zealand, to one of the major airports, from Heathrow. For this, we need to budget approx. £1500 (which will include insurance for us both for the journey). We won’t be flying business or better – that would more than double the cost.

Finally, there’s the small matter of what we do when we get there. We need somewhere to live. You KNOW how expensive it is moving to a new house in this country. It’s the same abroad. You need agency fees, 2 weeks rent in advance and four weeks bond. Assuming we can get a place that is comparable in cost to where we currently live, we need to find £800 to pay up front, in advance, to secure somewhere for us to live, before our stuff arrives and before we go to collect our furry family members from quarantine. Our options are already reduced, as not everywhere allows pets, and we have effectively ruled ourselves out of shared accommodation with that clause. And so beggers might not be able to be choosers. We will have to take what we can get and not haggle.

This does not even cover some of the costs we will need to address once there. Such as getting a car, travelling from the airport to wherever we end up, finding a hotel room to sleep in when we land after a 30+ hour journey. I am hopeful that we can raise funds to cover that. We should be able to get (some of) the deposit back on the flat. I will have my final salary from my employer, and I should be entitled to some redundancy pay, but it won’t be much due to the caps introduced in 2017 and the fact that I am under 40. I am still pursuing the legal case, but the time frame on that has turned to jelly.

I am not giving up. I will keep working all of the hours that every God sends me. I will keep tutoring. I will keep scraping and saving. I will take the resit marking this winter if it is offered to me. But I am living in fear right now that this will not be enough.

Explain how soon you need the funds

I am currently interviewing for jobs to start in 2018 at the end of January. Ideally, we need to be in New Zealand by around the 20th of January. The cats can’t actually leave the country before that point, so they might have to follow us later, which is an additional headache to consider.

The thing is, everything needs to be done before then. Our medicals need to be done as soon as humanly possible. See above for reasons why.

Once that’s done, the VISA needs to be applied for, and they can take up to three months, so that also needs to be started the day I get a job offer.

The longer we wait, the more expensive and complicated things will become. We need to pay a 25% deposit for the cats’ international transfer 6-8 weeks before we leave, so by early December.

We need to contact a removal company for an accurate storage quote and pay a deposit to secure their services.

The longer we wait for the flights, the more expensive they will get. January is summer time in New Zealand, the flights are in peak season over there, as are all the accommodation options and internal transport options (car hire, bus, train, etc) to get us from the airport to wherever we end up staying.

In short we need to raise this money now. As soon as possible. Otherwise, the whole thing is potentially going to fall through.

Share how grateful you will be for help

I have absolutely no right to ask for any of this. I can’t promise that there is anything in it for any of you, beyond knowing that you have helped us to achieve this dream. Should you ever make it out to NZ and turn up on our doorstep, our welcome and hospitality is open to you. But that was already the case.

I’m really struggling for words to write this without sounding like a hackneyed X Factor contestant. This is our biggest shot at being happy and living a health life, rather than just surviving. This has been our every waking, breathing and speaking moment for the last two years. It will be until we get there. This will change our lives. And not in the sun-shiny Hollywood sense, but by giving us a shot at the future we want and need so dearly.

I have set the total for this to cover what we need to get out there. But in all honesty, if it raises anything at all, I will cry with gratitude, because it will mean that people are willing to help us and we don’t have to carry this on our own.

#help #request #gofundme #new zealand #moving #moving with cats #mental health #teaching

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sparkesink · 4 years

Text

Chapter 9:

Hot & Ready

(Shifting Through Loose Written Thoughts:

A Story Started,

Never Finished,

So Many Years Ago.)

No.

….No.

Fuck.

No.

Fucking Bullshit.

Blah, Blah, Blah.

Fucking TJ,

Goddamn Fucking Literature Nazi.

“Too Fucking Vulgar.”

You Know What Is To Fucking Vulgar?

Worrying About Your Fucking Vulgarity…

That’s What’s Fucking Vulgar.

She’s Been Putting This Chapter Off For So Fucking Long.

(It’s A Bunch Of Bullshit, Rather…)

Laughing On The Fucking Floor For This Fucking Shit.

I Wonder Why I Pulled The Lucky Strings And Got Handed This Shit Story.

(That Fucker Wasn’t Even Fucking Cute,)

I Was Just So Goddamn Desperate For Someone To Love Me,

(I Didn’t Even Give A Shit Who It Was.)

Doesn’t Help When It’s Your Greatest Desire…

You Know,

The Whole, “Prince Charming”, Fracture;

(That’s Victoria’s Bit.)

I Almost Lost Odin For Her…

Woulda Been A Shame;

(The Emerald Eyes Have Such A Significant Part In This Glorious Game.)

I’m Sure He Loves Her,

(He Did Make It Through Me.)

Very Well Then,

I Suppose I Oughta Quit Stalling.

(The Audience Has Been Stagnant, Long Enough.)

Now If I Were A Story,

Oh Where,

Oh Where, Would I Be?

Maybe Tucked Behind That Old Writing Tree?

No, No,

(That’s TJ’s Tale…)

Between The Pillows Of The Old Wooden Bed,

Littered With Cheap Tequila,

(Eternally Stained)

Within A Children’s, Spider-Man Sippy-Cup.

I’ve Waited So Long, And Now All I Can Think…

“How In The Fuck Am I Going To Fucking Get Drunk Tonight?”

I Suppose I Should Match Up The Timelines,

(You Know, The Lyrical Bullshit TJ Was Attempting to Write About Me.)

The Stupid Fucking,

“My First Cannabis Experience,”

(Her Goddamn, Favorite Story To Tell.)

She Makes Me Sound Like Such A Fucking Prick.

So Fucking Dull,

Like, My Friendly Neighbor…

Trying To Explain To Young Children The Dangers Of…

REEFER MADNESS!!!!

(Ahem…)

I Was Uninformed That When You Are That Fucking High,

It Is Not In One’s Best Interest To Attempt To Inform Your Parents;

(You Have Arrived Home Safely.)

SINCE I Was The Incredible Child I Was,

I Walked In My Front Door…

Thought To Myself,

"Well… I Am A Wee Late…They Are Probably Worried About Me.

I Shall Persist To Inform Them Of My Arrival…

Build Brownie Points.”

Realizing The Faults Within My Logic,

Decided,

(Within Sufficient Time,)

Against Informing,

(The Origin Of My Existence,)

Of My Arrival:

Stumbling,

Raiding My Kitchen,

45 minutes Time.

Eating,

Until I Ceased To Move,

Passing Out,

Waking Up The Next Morning,

Mom Making Breakfast,

Feeling More Accomplished Than A Horny 20 Year Old Getting Laid,

(Without The Help Of Alcohol, At A Party.)

This Is What Should Have Happened…

This Is What Actually Happened:

Walking Through The Door,

Hyperventilating,

(Laughing My Ass Off…)

Over Literally,

Nothing.

I Think To Myself,

"Well, I Am But A Wee Late…

(They Are, Probably, Worried About Me;)

I Shall Tell Them Of My Arrival With Haste!

(Solely To Build Brownie Points.")

Galloping Amongst The Formal Living-room…

Such A Radiant Gazelle I Should Be,

Proceeding With:

An Astounding Performance Of James Bond…

Spinning,

Rolling,

Downward The Parental Stairs…

Tumbling,

(Within Their Bedroom.)

Now,

You Must Understand,

The Mother Had Gone Bat-shit,

(Decided A Fourth Baby Was Great.)

Ten Months Prior:

The ‘Rentals Cruised During Hurricane Wilma,

(Smack-dab In The Center Of Their Trip.)

Sitting Within A Hotel Basement,

Three Days,

Tenth Story Room,

Thrown Across The City…

(Impossibly Of Thinking Logically.)

"Let's Have A Baby,"

(At This Point,)

Sounded Such:

"WE’RE GOING TO FUCKING DIE!"

Nine Months Past,

Very Much Alive…

(And So, A Baby Sister.)

Creeping Through Their Room,

(Clinging To These Exponential Chuckles,)

Slipping Beneath My Lips,

Playing The Roll Of Such Secret Spy,

(As Explained Before;)

Parentals’…Not Amused…

(Not In The Slightest…)

Been The Only Half Hour Of Sleep,

Within The Past Month…

My Brilliant Ideas….

(Surely: Not The Brightest.)

Turning The Light,

Walking Aside A Side Of Their Berth,

"HELLO,

(Emphasis On The Oh…)

JUST WANTED TO LET YOU KNOW….

I'M HOME.”

(Again, More Emphasis On The Oh,

Oh,

Oh,)

Mom Rolled Over,

(Stealing A Glance;

In Distinction To My Father.)

A Second To Look Within Each-other, (Gaining Reassurance Directed Towards My Intoxication.)

A Very Long Pause,

(To Me, A Fucking Century,)

My Father,

(Finally,)

Clearing His Throat,

(As To Prepare Speech,)

"I Was Gonna Go To Class,

Until I Got High,

(Major Emphasis On The Eye:)

BAH DA DA DA DA DA.”

-Shout Out To Afroman,

(You Dah Bomb-diggity)-

The Events Followed Are Rather,

(Fuzzy,)

Responsible To Ten Years,

Copious Alcohol,

“Drug” Consumption,

Assisted In Aging,

Stress,

Anxiety,

(What Have You.)

Speaking Though,

I Recall A Very Long,

“Heart-to-heart,”

Between My Father And I…

(Mostly About My Future Employment, 7/11, My Whole Life.

Sat Me Down To Watch The Movie,

'The Secret'.

A Whole Mess Of Universe,

“Stoner-talk”;

Mostly, I Could Not Follow.

(The Cat Licking Itself Is Far To Distracting.)

Long Story Short,

As I Awoke,

I Was Not Greeted…

Hot Breakfast,

Lovingly Prepared For My Wake.

Instead:

A Bedroom Door Removed,

A Computer Missing From Upon My Desk,

A Phone With Service Cut,

A Six-month Prison Sentence Within My Bedroom.

(Lot Of Good That Ever Did, LoL.)

Oddly,

My Demeanor Changed Drastically Through Maturity.

The Kind Of “Girl,” I Am Currently?

Untamed.

Know Anything About Astrology?

I Am A Cancerian With Boisterous Leo Traits.

Possessing Terrible Cancerian Qualities,

Wrapped Within Leo Magic…

(Though,

Thinking About It,

That “Magic” Was Only A Face.)

Leo: Such Craze To Live Within Spotlight.

Pigheaded,

Adventurous,

Spontaneous…Etc.

My “True” Astrological Sign:

Cancer,

Cancerian…

(Trust Me, I Know.)

The Only Cancerian Traits I Posses Currently:

Easily Hurt,

Come Off EXTREMELY Strong When I Have Chemistry With Someone,

Need Constant Attention,

(Of Course, Affection.)

We Are Hopeless, Romantics…

Bound Endless To Our Soul Partner,

(Loving Unconditionally.)

Adolescence:

Recluse,

Complete Homebody,

(To The Core;)

Shy And Quite Cannot Begin To Describe My Demeanor.

I Felt More Comfortable Flirting Through A Screened Filter.

Not Only Permanently Home Bound,

Shy…Intimidated Rather,

I Don’t Human Well.

MySpace was my dating sanctuary.

I Was Fucking JadeJuggernaut,

(From MySpace,)

As Far As Everyone Else Was Concerned:

I Was The Shit.

As An Adolescent,

I Became Accustom To The World Of Superficiality,

(Rather Quickly.)

I Many Prospects Held Attention For Me Through Social Flirting,

Only To Flee Once Meeting Me.

Honestly, I Was Never A Terrible Looking Girl.

I Put On Weight Easily,

(Thank You, Hypothyroidism).

In Grade Nine,

My Average Weight:

Somewhere Around 165 lbs.

(I Had Trouble Playing 'The League' I Attempted To Fish From.)

(Always The Orchid,

Basking Within That Dimmed Moonlight.)

Now, I Was Just A Young Girl,

This Was The First Time I Had Realized…

Everyone Was Staring At Me.

They Were Not Awing,

Nor Talking Highly Of Me;

More Like Gawking,

Making Fun.

You Start To Realize How Ugly You Are,

(As Claimed By Society.)

Those Underwear Models,

The “Beautiful” Women,

The One’s You Idolize,

(From This Day,)

Branded Upon Every Fragment Within Your Skull.

That Image,

(Their Image,)

Becomes The Only,

(Acceptable,)

Image For Yourself;

You Isolate Your Life,

Revolving Solely Towards Ultimate Perfection.

Sometimes,

The Most Beautiful Things In Life Are Found Within The Most Curious Places;

This Is Not One Of Those Things.

Your Obsession Controls Your Every Move.

This Is Not Something Beautiful,

(Found In A Remote Location;)

This Is Hideous…

It Will Control Your Entire Life For Over Ten Years.

At Fourteen-Years Young,

I Had Been Stood Up More Often Than I Can Remember:

That Is…Until I Met Peter.

We Started Talking, Casually.

(To Be Honest, He Was Never Really My Type.)

He Was More…

A Boy I Talked To Once-In-A-While,

(When He Was Online,

And I Was Bored…

Regardless,)

I Ended Up Giving Him My Number.

The First Time I Spoke To Peter,

I Was In The Shower,

(Naturally, Ended Up Leading To Inappropriate, Sexual, Innuendos.)

We Were Polar Opposites,

Floating Along,

(In The Same Situational Boat Of Life.)

Both Having Had One 'Relationship,'

(Before We Met.)

JR,

(My Internet Boyfriend Of A Year,)

'JR' From New York,

Was,

(In All Reality,)

A Girl From My School,

(Or, At least, I Believe So.)

Peter’s Online Relationship:

Some Girl From His School,

(Blew Him Off Every Chance She Got.)

Due To This,

The First Time We Made Plans To Meet,

He Was On The Edge,

(Thinking I Would Blow Him Off,

Such As This “Past” Girl.

I Was Fourty-Five Minutes Late.

Remember The Six-Month Prison Sentence?

This Event Just So Happened To Be Right In The Middle…

Imagine,

(The Fight Being Had,

Attempting To Convince My Parents To Take Me,

(To Meet This Boy.)

Talking A Hormonal,

(Recently Pregnant, Mother…

With A Crying Newborn Into Escorting You Anywhere,

(Especially Given The Fact:

Your Dumb Ass Came Home More High Than Snoop Dog On April 20th.)

We Walk Into The Theatre,

Yes,

I Said We…

Would You Like To Know Why I Say We?

(Of Fucking Course You Do…)

You Wouldn't Be Reading This Bullshit:

(Now Would You?)

I Say, “WE,” Due To:

The First Time Peter Saw Me,

(In Person,)

You Want To Know What Came With Me?

My Best Friend At The Time,

Both My Younger Siblings,

Topped With A Mother On A Rampage.

(Damn Kid,

Should Have Known At This Moment…)

Best Course Of Action:

Run Far,

Far,

Away.

This Is What Should Have Happened.

Instead,

He Comes Over To My Side,

Proceeds Attempt To Introduce Himself:

My Mother,

Pulling Cash From The ATM.

They Say First Impressions Are Key To Meeting Anyone New…

The First Impression Of My Mom?

"SO YOUR THE REASON I GOT PULLED OUT OF BED AND HAD TO PUT A SCREAMING BABY IN THE CAR. JUST LOVELY!"

Followed By,

(Extremely Aggressive,)

Transfer Of Money From Her Possession,

(To Mine.)

Storming Out,

Would Put A Sorority, Bitch,

(On Her Period,)

To Shame.

In Case You Failed to,

“Pick Up On It,”

She Stormed Out…

Alone.

That’s right,

Our First Date Included:

Both My Younger Siblings,

(As Well As My Tag-A-Long, Friend.)

Remember…

That Thing I Said…

About Needing To Appear Badass,

(In Order To Compensate For My Awkwardness?)

This Awkward Moment,

Followed By Us Sitting,

(More Awkwardly Than Before,)

In A Movie,

Next To Each Other,

(Dealing With My Ten-Year-Old Brother,

Eight-Year-Old Sister,)

Running Around Us,

(Obnoxiously.)

(This Boy Was Never Talking To Me Again.)

To My Surprise,

The Following Weeks Consisted Of:

Texting,

Calling Each Night,

Spending Time Together,

(Whenever The Opportunity Arose.)

Looking Back On It,

This Relationship Was Destined For An Apocalyptic End,

(Before It Even Began.)

I Had Introduced Him To My Only Other Girlfriend,

(Besides That One Who Joined Our First Date,)

I Accused Him Of Thinking She Was More Attractive Than I,

“She Was Nice,”

That’s All It Took.

What Type Of Insane,

(Insecure,)

Bitch Does That?

Remember,

(The Introduction,)

A Mention Of Lessons,

It Is Only Through Experience,

One May Obtain The Knowledge Of A More Great,

(Stable,)

Way Of Being.

He Was Understanding,

Thirty Minutes,

(Post Jealous Rampage,)

I Officially Was Diving,

(Head First,)

Into An Attempt At Love.

…And So It Began.

This Attempt At Love,

(Peter, And Myself,)

The Classic “First Girlfriend, First Boyfriend,”

Each Other’s First Kiss,

(Bullshit, Bullshit, Bullshit,)

I Suppose,

I Couldn’t Discover My Full,

(Awesome,)

Potential,

(Until After-The-Fact.)

Though,

I Was Young,

(Naïve,)

I Found Myself Head-Over-Heals,

(In Love,)

With This, Boy.

I Had Wished To Give Him Everything Of Mine:

(Considering My True ‘First’ Kiss,

Stolen,

Sometime Before I Had Met Him.)

I Was Thirteen,

I Was To Stay-The-Night With A Long Time,

Family Friend,

(Kim.)

A Weekly Ritual, Rather.

This Night,

(Unlike The Rest,)

Deciding To Steal Her Parent’s Alcohol,

(Be Naughty While They Slept.)

Kim Had An Older Cousin Staying With Them,

Age Twenty-Three.

He Came Out,

Mid-Night;

Jumped In The Hot Tub With Us.

This Was The First,

(Only,)

Time I Would Have Ever Encountered This Man;

I Could Not Tell You His Name,

I Was A Child,

He Was A Grown Man.

I Remember Lying,

(In Their Guest Bedroom,)

Him,

Draped Upon Me;

Kim Laughing,

(Telling Jokes From The Edge Of The Bed.)

He Removed My Shirt,

Continued To Kiss My Neck,

(And Back,)

Repeatedly,

(As I Lie There…

Listening To Kim Ramble On,

(Regarding Some Peer In Her Middle School Class.)

My Bra Straps

(The Next To Be Unfastened,)

Followed:

A Continuous Battle,

(This Strange Man With Myself,)

Fastening,

Unfastening.

I Became Frustrated,

I Told Him To Stop Undressing Me…

Leading Kim To Begin Jumping Up,

Screaming,

“LET’S PLAY TRUTH OR DARE!”

Some Of These Dares,

An Innocent Game,

(Thirteen-year-old Innocence:)

Eating Dog Food,

Dancing, Ridiculously,

Our Favorite Song,

In Our Underwear,

(That Sort Of Nonsense.)

The Final Memory Of This Evening,

A Dare:

She Had Assigned To Her Cousin,

“I Dare You To Make Out With Jade.”

He Threw Himself Atop Me,

Began To Demandingly Kiss,

(Forcefully, Fondle,)

Roughly Thirty Seconds…

I Nervously Giggled,

Pushed Him Away From Me.

“I Dare Jade To Give Me A Blow Job,”

I Ran To The Bathroom,

Vomited Profusely,

Woke Up The Following Morning In Kim’s Bed.

This Story Has Never Found It’s Way From My Mouth,

(Until This Very Day,)

It Made It Rather Difficult To Look Peter In The Eye,

Pronouncing Him,

“My First And Only,”

For Over Four Years.

I Remember Attending My Summer Theatre Camp Session,

(The Morning Following That Night.)

I Remember My Instructor Telling Us That He Was Twenty-Three Years Old,

(Class Introductions.)

I Remember The Guilt I Felt,

How I Wanted To Crawl Out Of My Skin,

With Every Thought Of My Instructor,

Trying To Touch Me.

Attempting To Process The Age Difference,

With An Association To This New Class Instructor…

I Let Him Violate Me,

This Cousin Of My Friend:

I Chose To Drink,

Underage,

That Night.

I Giggled,

As If It Was Okay,

(While My Mind Desired Violence.)

I Tried To Tell Him To Stop,

I Failed To Relate The Message.

I Should Have Left.

I Should Have Called My Parents.

I Should Have Walked Away From The Situation.

Started A Fucking Riot,

Raged And Swung!

I Didn’t.

I Let It Happen.

I Allowed Myself To Be The Victim.

I Spent Years Attempting To Figure,

Why Sex Felt So Wrong,

(Throughout My Young Adulthood.)

Through Consenting Occasions,

My Mind Would Snap…

My Skin Would Begin To Crawl…

My Light Began To Dim,

A Little Girl,

Began To Sob.

I Was Peter’s First Kiss,

Obvious Upon,

(Eventually,)

Locking Lips With This Lanky,

Tall,

Large Lipped, Boy.

At The Beginning,

It Was Bound,

Someone’s Something,

(Would Be In Or On,)

Something,

Of The Other’s Body.

The First Time,

(I Actually Had ‘Sex’,)

Was Not When I Lost My Virginity.

Peter,

For Some Reason Or Other,

Refused To Lose His Virginity To Me.

No Matter How Many Attempts I Would Make,

He Would Respond,

Same Answer,

“I Want It To Be Special.”

God Knows Why,

I Chose The One Boy,

(Who Didn’t Want To Fuck Anything And Everything,

Just To Say He Had Sex,)

He Just Would Not Let Me Take His V-card From Him.

He Didn’t Seem To Have A Problem Laying Me On The Floor,

Your Hand On My Back,

Holding Me Down,

Sodomizing Me As I Cried;

Manipulating Words,

(Constantly Spewing Out Of Your Mouth)

Babbling On As My Pants Were Removed.

I Told Him I Didn’t Want To Again…

And Again…

I Was Never Aggressive Towards Him,

(Until Later In The Relationship.)

He Did As He Pleased To Me,

(Sexually,)

Whether I Wanted To,

Or Not.

I Walked Back Into My House,

That First Day You Held Me Down,

I Felt That Same Sick Guilt As Before:

Disgusting,

Used,

As If My Innocence Had Been Taken From Me.

I Believe,

Excusing Your Actions,

(As I Had Convinced Myself,)

You Had Ownership Of My Body,

(Payment For An Attempt At Love,)

As If My Wishes Didn’t Matter,

It Was Just “Okay”.

We Were Dating.

I Didn’t Realize How Fucked Up That State Of Mind Is,

(Until Just Recently,)

Actually,

(Tell You The Truth,)

I Am Ashamed,

Believing It To Be “Right,”

(In The First Place.)

I, Suppose This Was Not A One-Way Road,

In Fact,

Our Virginities Sacrificed Through Twisted Trickery,

(Of My Own.)

Soft Ambiance,

Reno911 Playing As Background,

I Informed Him His Sodomy,

Was In Fact Intercourse:

Romance At It’s Finest.

I Want To Remember The Reasons I Loved You,

I Just Can’t Think Of Any.

I Want To Say I Wasn’t Hurt,

(When You Had Me Pick Out Her Birthday Card.)

I Can’t Remember,

If I Loved You,

Or The Idea Of Falling In Love,

(Instead.)

I Am Not A Stupid,

(Naïve,)

Girl:

There Would Have Had To Have Been Reason,

(I Fell Madly In Love With You.)

I Will Never Regret The Lessons,

And The Growth You Gave Me,

Through The “Young Love”,

We May Have Had,

(With One-An-Other.)

The Human Mind Seems To Grasp,

The Darkest Of Memories,

More So Than Of Those That Light The Way;

Harder To Recover The Heartfelt Days,

The Ones Covered In Orange And Yellow Leaves,

(Those Falls’ We Shared Throughout The Years.)

I Believe Our Biggest Conflict,

Was That Of A Superficial Kind;

A Very Conservative White Collar,

Trying To Tame A Tie-dye Dress.

While Shopping In Wal-Mart,

One Fine Afternoon,

My Crazy Spontaneity Leaped,

Grabbing Peter By The Chest.

We Started A Waltz,

In The Middle Of Checkout Number Five.

This Did Not Last,

He Was Not Amused,

My Lack Of Suitable Public Action,

“For The Love Of God,

Please Keep Her Subdued.”

Personality Battles,

The Leading Cause,

(To Our Official Brake Up.)

I Ended Our Relationship,

January 1, 2011,

(Continued To Share My Bed.)

It Was Not Until Valentine’s Day,

A Month And A Half Past,

I Officially Kicked Him Out Of My Bedroom,

A Four Year Waste.

Though We No Longer Shared A Bed,

We Still Lived Under The Same Roof,

(Took The Same Classes.)

Environmental Science Lab,

We Were Required To Attend A Field Trip,

(One Of The Dams,

About Forty-Five Minutes From Campus.)

This Was A Class Activity,

We Rode The Bus All The Way Out There,

Walked Around With Our Thumbs Up Our Own Asses.

The Tour Guide Babbled On For Hours,

The Same Boring Dam Shit,

(We All Learned In Kindergarten.)

I Have The Attention Span Of A Five-Year-Old,

Guess Where Jade Was While Everyone Else Was Pretending To Give A Shit?

Walking Down The Car Rails,

(Participating In Her Own Balancing Act,)

Singing,

(At The Top Of Her Lungs.)

Again,

Peter Was Not Thrilled,

(My Adolescent Actions.)

Proclaimed,

“I Was Embarrassing Him,

Knock It Off!”

Peter Had A Curfew,

(Adolescent In The World Of Him,

And I,

Before The Studies,

(And The Parties,)

Before The Cheat,

(And Lies.)

Ten P.M.

Until Eight-een,

(It Finally Moved To Midnight,)

My Free-Spirited Family,

Curfews Were Something Of Non-Fiction:

A Folk-lore To Scare High School Girls.

(Their Daddies Found Them,

In The Back Seat Of His 98’ KIA Spectra.)

Thirty To Forty-five Minutes Past,

A Tapping At My Window.

Tap,

Tapping On My Second Story Window,

A Normal Person,

Ignored it.

“Look Outside,”

The Text That Arrived On My Phone,

Three Minutes Past.

There Was Peter,

Blanket Laid Upon My Lawn.

We Lay Upon The Starlit Cover,

Speaking Of Life,

The Future,

The Dream…

(He Had It All Figured Out.)

The Universe Had Finally All Come Together,

(In Our Heads,)

Every Dream,

(Aspiration,)

Could All Come True.

We Were In Love Under The Stars, (That Night.)

My Seventeenth Year,

I Was Going To Walk Down The Isle To You,

(Live Happily-Ever-After.)

(Not What Happened,

As You Can Sea,

(The Fun Has Just Begun.)

Peter Was A Grade Older Than Me,

In High School,

Towards His Senior Year…

A Conclusion:

You See,

He Decided,

Join Football,

The Summer Before,

Peter Started Bulking Up,

(Using Steroids,)

What A Bore.

I Was The “Pudgy Adolescent”,

A Grade Behind,

Working Towards Early Graduation.

One Conclusion,

Determined In My Life:

I Need To “Get Hot,”

(So I Could Keep Him Around,)

Come August Of 2009,

Forty lbs. Lighter,

Moving Into A Dorm,

(I Wasn’t Prepared For.)

University of Idaho,

(Go Vandals…)

I Rolled A Fucking Spare.

You Must Understand,

A Couple Of Things,

(About Me,)

In The Form Of My Greatest Pet Peeve.

When You Walk Into A Room,

And Realize,

You’re Running Through Everyone’s Mind.

Either A:

Being Looked At As “The Stupid, Slut,”

(By Those Who Drip Immense Envy,

From Every Orifice Of Their Body…

Or B: You’ve Become A Piece Of Meat,

(Placed Within The Center Of Vultures.)

They Can’t Explain,

(Why You Are Wonderful,)

They Tend To Degrade You,

To Fit You Within Their Perfect,

Cookie Cutter,

(Model,)

Of A Human Being.

Those Who Desire Simplicity,

(Those Fabulously Plain,)

Those Who Never Stand Out,

(Who Can Never Be ‘More’,)

Those Who Search For Outlets,

Religion,

God,

Abstinence,

‘Purity’,

Do So To Give Justification,

(For Mediocrity.)

If You Have Wronged Those Around You,

(If You Have Inflicted Pain,)

Do Not Worry One Bit,

(You’re A Good Person,

You’re No One To Blame.)

You Have Chosen To Be ‘Ratified’,

(By Said Outlet.)

You May See Me On The Party Circuit,

I’m The Pretty Little Blonde,

(Sitting In The Window.)

I’ll Act All Cutesy,

To Attract The Hottest,

(Dumb,)

Assholes Of The Lot,

Allowing Me To Use Them,

(Don’t Worry, You’ll Figure Out The Plot.)

I’m The Ditsy,

Stupid,

Pretty,

Little,

Blonde…

(Everyone Likes To Assume I Am.)

I Got My High School Diploma,

(Ripe Ole’ Age Of Sixteen,)

I’ve Been Drunk At U Of I,

Fucking Wasted…

Creating Havoc,

(Every Night.)

Three Years How?

And Yet NO ONE FUCKING BELIEVES ME,

WHEN I SAY IM A GODDAMN HONORS STUDENT NOW.

Dean’s Listed For Two,

(Three Honor’s Societies,)

Rarely Go To Class,

And Yet…

I’m Kicking College’s Ass.

Who Fucking Does That?

Sitting In My Honors Classes,

Hung Over As Balls,

(Barely Awake,)

Everyone Fucking Looks At Me…

“She Must Be In The Wrong Place.”

No Bitch,

I Don’t Look Like The Female Version Of Elmer Fudd…

(Get Shit Housed Every Night,)

I Did Not Arrive Here VIA Fluke.

IMMA GODDAMN GENIUS BIOTCH,

(GET OFF MY BACK.)

Now I’ve Ranted,

(And Raged,)

On Everyone’s Ignorant Idiocy,

I’ll Get Back To The Important Issues At Matter.

Peter Was A Pathological Liar.

One Time:

He Lied About Taking Down His Christmas Lights,

(With His Dad,)

He “Wanted To Play Video Games”,

Instead Of Hangout With Me,

He “Didn’t Have The ‘Heart’ To Tell Me The Truth”…

Would You Rather LARP?

Or Masturbate On A Cracker?

Staring At Your Warlock Mange,

Instead Of Fucking Your Girlfriend?

I Would Have Preferred The Later,

(Give Me A Little Credit Here.)

What Kind Of Psychotic Bitch Do You Think I Am?

I May Not Be Something,

Of ‘The Step-ford Wives,”

I Sure As Hell Am Not Going,

(Hannibal Lector,)

Eating Flesh Off Knives.

Peter Would Try To Go Behind My Back,

(With Other Girls,)

You Bet Your Ass,

I Had Eyes Where Ever He Was At.

When You Know An Abundance Of People,

You Can Sit On Your Bed,

Getting Reports,

(From People He Had Never Met Before.)

This,

(My Friends,)

The Reason I Died Single;

Not Even Batman Could Two-time My Ass,

(Without Me Knowing It.)

Long Story Short,

Peter Made Me Crazy.

Slap A Pretty,

White,

Vest On Me:

Lock It Up,

(In A Padded,

White,

Room…)

PSYCHOTIC BITCH.

Looking Back On It Now,

I Completely Understand,

(Why He Did,

What He Did.)

Whatever Fucked Up Justification You Can Get Out Of That,

(Sort Of Understand…)

Why You Would Fuck The Mammoth,

Sloth?

Love Child?

(From The Fourth Floor,

That Night After Halloween.)

They Say,

“Karma Is A Bitch.”

We Partied On Halloween,

That Year…

I Walked Upstairs,

(Finding A Bathroom,)

Literally Pushing People Out Of My Way,

(Just To Move.)

Place Was Packed,

Kegs Were Afloat.

I Could Not Explain,

(The Details Of The Whole Ordeal,)

I Remember Walking Into The Bathroom,

Being Welcomed By A Half-Naked Vampire,

Passed Out On The Bathroom Floor.

I Have Been Taken Advantage Of,

(More Often Than I Like To Admit.)

I Once Cried,

(In My Pillow,)

While My Boyfriend Just,

“Went At It.”

Telling Him Constantly,

“I Wasn’t In The Mood…”

(Didn’t Even Notice My Tears,

When He Wiped My Side Of His Cum…

(Or The Entire Way Through.)

Woken Up,

(Asking Same Boyfriend,)

“Why Am I So Messy?”

The Response:

“I Just Had Sex With You.”

(Weren’t You Such A Peach?)

I Had Just Gotten Use To It.

(I Suppose It Was One Of Those Things,)

I Thought,

“He Is My Boyfriend,

I Guess It Is No Big Deal.”

So Help Me God,

I Was Not Going To Let This Passed Out Girl,

Be Hurt,

(In Any Way.)

I Stayed By Her Side,

(Until Her Friends Were Found,)

Luckily,

She Was A Friend Of The Current Tenant,

(Got Her In A Room So She Was Safe.)

I Remember Thinking;

“Karma Has My Back For A While!”

To Beg Him To Stay The Night With You,

(Just This Once,)

To Hear Him Refuse,

No Matter How Hard You Mourn,

You Feel Inadequate.

Two Days Past,

Peter,

Sitting In My Dorm Room,

(On My Computer,)

I Walked Through The Hallway,

From Girl’s Public Shower,

Into My Bedroom.

Being A Mindless Drones In Today’s Society;

The First Order Of Business Post Shower,

(Check The Mobile Device.)

Those Fortunate Enough,

(To Never Experience Heartbreak,)

You Have My Greatest Envy,

(You Have My Greatest Pity.)

Envy:

Obvious Reasons Of Pain,

Sorrow So Great,

(You Tend To Lose Yourself.)

I Can No Longer Say,

“I Have Never Lost Someone Close To Me,”

(Someone I Loved Greatly.)

The Day My Heart Shattered,

I Died,

I Took A Hand Full Of Pills,

To The Bottom Of The Ocean.

(Experienced All Her Stages Of Grief.)

I Could Not Breathe,

I Could Not Eat,

I Could Not Sleep.

I Watched My Entire World,

Rot,

Turn To Ash,

(In Front Of My Feet.)

Most People Would Assume Figuratively,

(I Literally Felt My Soul,

Disintegrate.)

You Have My Pity:

You Will Never See The World,

(As I Do Now.)

Though Dark And Corrupt,

The Innocence Naively,

(Brainwashed,)

From The Day We Are Born:

Is Not,

(Will Never Be,)

Real.

Those Who Are Never Hurt,

Will Believe This To Be,

“This Is A Fallacy.”

Listen,

I Do Not,

Cannot,

Verbally Say,

Any Of This;

(Due To A Lack Of Trust.)

Trust For Anyone,

(To Care.)

Anyone,

(With My Heart,)

An Unfathomable Concept.

It Must Be Written,

(Someone Has To Know:)

My Story,

(And Understand.)

I Was Raped,

(My Innocence Stolen From Me,)

I Was Forced To See,

All Twenty-five,

Different,

Angles…

(Of A Girl Not Much Different,

You See?)

The “Love Of My Life’s Computer,

(Three Separate Times,)

The One To Think I Was Beautiful Before,

(I Lost Weight,)

Looked Me In The Eye,

(To Say How Ugly,

Stupid,

He Saw Me.)

I Finally Accepted My Heartbreak;

Fell Madly “In Love”,

(With My Best Friend,)

We’ll Call Him,

Paul.

When You Are A Child,

You Learn Discipline.

You Find,

“What Is Good?”,

And “What Is Evil?”;

(In Fear,)

Your Father Chasing You Through The House,

A spanking,

(From,

“The Belt,”

Awaiting,

(For Disobeying.)

You Become Adolescent.

You Fall In Love.

This Love Promises You His Future,

His Heart,

His Hand,

His Life.

This First Love Goes To College With You.

(You Are Excited For Independence:

Life As A Collegiate,

An Adult,

(With This Boy.)

This Is Where The Evil You Never Actually Grasped,

(As A Child,)

Starts To Show It’s Face.

He Starts To Leave Your Room,

Earlier,

And Earlier,

Every Night That Pass.

He Will Refuse To Stay The Night With You,

(During The Week Days,)

He Will Not Come To Your Room,

(Till’ Late On Weekends.)

His Phone Will Always Be,

‘Dead’:

(He Will Lose His Fucking Mind,

When You Search Through It. )

You Will Lie In His Bed,

(After Forgiving Him;)

You Will Stare At The Ceiling,

(Unable To Fall Asleep.)

Something Comes Over You,

(You Cannot Remember Having Control,

Over Your Own Body.)

You Remember The Events,

(Clear As Day.)

Sitting Straight Up,

You Will Grab A Notebook,

(Lying On The Floor;)

Your Hand Is Moving,

(In The Dark,)

But You Won’t Remember,

(What It Was,

You Couldn’t say.)

He Will Wake Up,

Ask,

“Are You Okay?”

You Respond By Throwing,

(The Notebook Across The Room,)

Lay Back Down.

He Will Walk Over Toward The Object,

(In Flight,)

Turns On The Light,

(Reads,)

Tears The Paper Out,

Throws It Away,

(Your Delirious,

Masterpiece.)

You Hear Nothing,

(Hysterical Laughing,)

You Must Realize:

You Are Making This Terrible Noise;

You Will Snap Out,

(Of This Possession,)

Referring To Yourself,

(In Third Person.)

He Will Go To Bed;

You Will Draw,

Music In Your Ears,

“Just Make The Thoughts Go Away!”

You Finally Pass Out,

(When The Sun Comes Up.)

You Never Actually Find Out,

(What Your Body Decided To Scribble.)

He Will Tell You,

“You Have Some Serious Demons,

Need Not To Hate Yourself,”

(So Much,)

“None Of This Is Your Fault Baby,

Stop Hating Yourself For Stupid Mistakes,

(I Made)”.

You Ever Realize,

How Much You Really Do Hate Yourself?

People Try To Play Off The ‘Cool’ Persona,

(They Have ‘Never’ Looked In The Mirror,

Been Disgusted With Whom They Had Become.)

Physical Disgust,

(Eleven Years Self Harm,

To The Inside Of Myself,)

Or Flat Out Disgust,

(Of Someone,

You Had Become.)

I Am No Longer,

(Solely,)

Disgusted With Myself Physically,

(For The Heart Break Has Made Me Vengeful.)

I Have Done Things,

(No One Would Want To Admit.)

This Is Not The Same Girl,

(I Was A Year And A Half Ago.)

That Girl Would Have Never Crossed,

(The Lines I Have Allowed Myself To Play Jump-Rope With;

I Broke His Heart,

One Week,

We Were Separated.

I Fell In Love:

He Taunts Me,

(Every Time I See His Face.)

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Text

This Is Ajit Pai, Nemesis of Net Neutrality

In March, Ajit Pai, the 45-year-old chair of the Federal Communications Commission, took to the internet—a community he joyfully inhabits and grudgingly regulates—to pay tribute to his favorite movie. “It’s not just, like, my opinion, man: 20 years ago today, #TheBigLebowski—the greatest film in the history of cinema—was released,” Pai wrote on Twitter. “Decades on, the Dude still abides and the movie really ties us all together.” And sure enough, the response to Pai’s cheerful tweet was united.

You’re out of your element Ajit. —@JohnsNotHere

Yes, Ajit. Stop trying to mingle with humans. —@Douche_McGraw

I hope you enjoy watching that movie alone since you have zero friends —@aseriousmang

No one likes you dork —@chessrockwell_

The insults, hundreds upon hundreds of them, accumulated in his replies. Some took the form of incredulous Jeff Bridges GIFs, others mimicked famous lines of Lebowski dialog. (“Shut the fuck up, Ajit.”) People debated whether Pai was more like one of the movie’s nihilist kidnappers or its corporate stooge.

The WIRED Business Issue

The competition is stiff, but Pai may be the most reviled man on the internet. He is despised as both a bumbling rube, trying too hard to prove he gets it, and a cunning villain, out to destroy digital freedom. (As one mocking headline put it: “Ajit Pai will not rest until he has killed The Big Lebowski, too.”) The anger emanates from his move, shortly after being appointed by Donald Trump, to repeal Obama-era net neutrality regulations. He called his policy the Restoring Internet Freedom Order, an Orwellian touch in the view of his critics, who see it as a mortal threat.

In the simplest terms, the principle of net neutrality prevents internet service providers, such as Verizon or Comcast, from manipulating network traffic for discriminatory purposes. Defenders contend that, without such rules, those companies could exert nefarious powers. They might slow down Netflix, making movies like The Big Lebowski unwatchable, in order to push captive subscribers to their own properties, a prospect that becomes more plausible as telecoms like AT&T and Verizon expand into content. They could charge tech companies extra fees to reach customers, giving a competitive advantage to those that pay. They could starve a startup or stifle a voice of dissent. Pai discounted such scenarios, calling them “hypothetical harms and hysterical prophecies of doom,” and pointed out that there was little evidence of such behavior before the Obama administration imposed the regulations in 2015. But the opposition, drawing energy from the broader anti-Trump resistance, was not persuaded by his reassurances. “If you’re not freaking out about net neutrality right now,” the activist group Fight for the Future warned its followers last year, “you’re not paying attention.”

Pai sought to defuse suspicions by presenting himself as an affable nerd, dropping conspicuous references to Star Wars and comic book heroes. But the internet wasn’t buying it. Last May, after satirist John Oliver delivered a scathing monologue ridiculing what he called Pai’s “doofy, ‘Hey, I’m just like you guys’ persona”—he focused on Pai’s habit of drinking from a giant novelty coffee mug at meetings—and calling on viewers of Last Week Tonight to stand up for net neutrality, the FCC’s website received an onslaught of comments against the repeal. Most simply voiced support for Obama’s policy, but some spat racist vitriol at Pai, who is a child of Indian immigrants, or even threatened his life. Trolls tracked down review pages for his wife’s medical practice and filled them with abusive one-star reviews. Perhaps unwisely, Pai kept trying to fight back on the internet’s own terms. He jousted with celebrities and nobodies on social media. He staged self-conscious stunts, like appearing in a video entitled “7 Things You Can Still Do on the Internet After Net Neutrality,” in which he posed as a Jedi and danced to “Harlem Shake” with a bunch of young conservatives. But the video just inflamed the internet. On Twitter, Mark Hamill—Luke Skywalker himself—jeered at Pai, calling him “profoundly unworthy” to wield a lightsaber. Someone else quickly identified a young woman dancing next to Pai as a right-wing conspiracy theorist who had helped spread “Pizzagate,” a hoax scandal from the lunatic fringe that linked Hillary Clinton to a child-abuse ring.

At a meeting of the FCC in November 2017, Ajit Pai drank from the novelty cup he finds so amusing—and his critics love to hate.

Zach Gibson/Bloomberg via Getty Images

On December 14, as that spectacle of Pai cavorting with the far right was zipping around the world, the FCC commissioners met to consider the fate of net neutrality. Demonstrators rallied outside the agency’s headquarters, but Pai appeared unperturbed as he and his four fellow commissioners filed into a fluorescent-lit chamber. By Washington tradition, the FCC’s membership is divided, with two seats picked by the opposition’s congressional leaders. His two Republican colleagues spoke in favor of the repeal, while the two Democrats offered harsh dissents. The chair had the final word. “The internet has enriched my own life immeasurably,” Pai said. “In the past few days alone, I’ve set up a FaceTime call with my parents and kids, downloaded interesting podcasts about blockchain technology, I’ve ordered a burrito, I’ve managed my playoff-bound fantasy football team. And—as many of you might have seen—I’ve tweeted. What is responsible for the phenomenal development of the internet? Well, it certainly wasn’t heavy-handed government regulation.”

As Pai spoke, there was furtive commotion in the back of the room. A hulking armed guard stepped forward. “On advice of security, we need to take a brief recess,” Pai said abruptly, and then stood up and hurried out a side door. A murmur went through the audience: bomb threat.

The room was evacuated and searched. Eventually everyone returned and Pai called for a vote. The repeal passed, 3–2. Pai took a satisfied sip from his much-maligned coffee mug.

People who know Pai swear that his nerdy persona is authentic. And even his adversaries will admit that he’s an anomaly in the Trump administration: a skillful practitioner of the Washington game. Pai has spent his entire professional life in the capital, acquiring influential patrons (Mitch McConnell, Jeff Sessions) and insider expertise. As Harold Feld, an ardent critic who works for the consumer advocacy group Public Knowledge, laments, “Why was my area of policy the one that got the guy who actually knows what he’s doing?”

Behind Pai’s brainy, technocratic mask, though, is an alter ego: ruthless conservative ideologue. In this sense, he is emblematic of Trump’s Washington, where all debates—even the bone-dry bureaucratic ones—have become so heated that they are fought like matters of life and death. Pai’s competence has allowed him to make quick work of undoing the Obama administration’s legacy at the FCC. But his polarizing politics assure that the battle over internet regulation will keep raging. “I like Ajit Pai personally, although I don’t want to defend him in public,” admits another net neutrality supporter. “But you’re not allowed to try to destroy the internet and then be treated well by the internet. The internet should hate him.”

Pai may be a creature of Washington, but he still presents himself as a provincial at heart. He grew up in the small town of Parsons, Kansas, where his parents, both Indian-born doctors, practiced at a county hospital. Pai’s connections to the wider world were AM radio and his family’s satellite television dish. Today many rural communities are without broadband internet access, an issue Pai often addresses publicly. “I’ve been to many, many towns around this country, and I’ve seen how people are on the wrong side of that digital divide,” Pai told students at his old high school in Parsons last September. (He declined to be interviewed for this article.) He told the assembly about a momentous occasion: meeting Trump in the Oval Office for the first time. “You walk out and you see the grandeur of the White House and you think about the fact that you just met the most powerful person in the world, and I couldn’t help but think about a kid I used to know 30 years before,” Pai said. “He was a shy kid, bushy mustache, bushy hair, really awkward talking to people, just didn’t quite know what was going on. He was, candidly, a dork.”

Pai could argue, though, that dorkiness was his ticket out of Parsons. He was a top-flight debater in high school and, later, at Harvard. He arrived in Cambridge as a Democrat, but under the influence of a professor, Martin Feldstein, who had advised Ronald Reagan, he adopted a conservative free-market philosophy. Pai was also put off by the racial politics on Harvard’s campus. After the 1992 race riots in Los Angeles, his residential house invited students to post their feelings on a wall—a literal, brick-and-mortar one. Though a minority himself, Pai was skeptical of liberal identity politics, and he wrote that “the real problem” when it came to race at Harvard was “voluntary segregation.”

“Pai is very much casting his lot with this Trump revolution.”

Pai graduated from Harvard in 1994, a year in which two developments emerged that would shape the course of his professional life. That October, Netscape released the first commercially successful web browser, opening the way for the modern internet. A month later, the Republican Party won control of Congress. The spirit of Newt Gingrich’s “Republican Revolution” was strong at the University of Chicago, where Pai had just started law school. He belonged to the Edmund Burke Society, a vocal conservative group, but also studied with Cass Sunstein, a brilliant liberal scholar of administrative law. (Gigi Sohn—a Democrat and net neutrality advocate who worked at the FCC when Pai was there—told me that after a controversial vote, she saw Pai vehemently arguing with someone who had disparaged his knowledge of administrative law on Twitter. Explaining his anger later, he told her: “I got an A in Cass Sunstein’s administrative law class!”)

When Pai later moved to Washington, he joined a cohort of young conservatives who were impassioned about curtailing regulation. “Ajit was a type, as were a lot of his friends from Chicago, that would geek out about the differences in originalist philosophy of Scalia and Thomas,” says a friend from the time, Ketan Jhaveri. “And how to use that to get the government to do less.”

In 1998, Pai joined the Justice Department as a junior attorney in the antitrust division. He was assigned to a task force overseeing the telecommunications industry, which was going through a period of upheaval. Deregulation had contributed to a boom in dot-com stocks, huge investment in broadband, and a wave of telecom mergers. In 2000, Pai took part in an investigation that eventually blocked the proposed merger of WorldCom and Sprint, partly because it stood to give one company a dominant percentage of the internet’s “backbone” infrastructure.

Protesters, like these in Chicago, came out in force to support Obama-era net neutrality regulations. But the Republican-majority FCC repealed the rules on December 14.

Scott Olson/Getty Images

The concern, then as now, was that the company that owned the pipes could also manipulate the flow of data. For practical purposes, some traffic management was essential, but the academics and engineers who pioneered the internet could already foresee how that control could lead to abuses such as blocking access to websites and “throttling”—or deliberately slowing—the connections of certain consumers. In 2002, a young law professor named Tim Wu wrote a short paper that he titled “A Proposal for Network Neutrality.” He framed the issue in modest terms, suggesting a standard that regulators could use to decide which methods of network management should be permitted (for the valid purpose of directing traffic) and which should be banned (for distorting the fundamental openness of the internet).

“I was sure it was a complete waste of time,” Wu recalls of that paper. But the phrase “net neutrality” caught on. Over time the concept has come to mean something far more sweeping, invoked to protect not just bits of data but free speech, personal privacy, innovation, and most every other public good associated with the internet. (Pai has called it “one of the more seductive marketing slogans that’s ever been attached to a public policy issue.”)

The world of telecommunications law is small, and Wu says he crossed paths with Pai around the time he came up with the concept of net neutrality. “Back in the day, he used to throw pretty good parties,” Wu said. Pai was active in the Federalist Society, the intellectual center of the conservative legal scene, but he was a bipartisan networker. He used to arrange large happy hour events, sending out mass email invitations that took the form of clever limericks. “Everyone knew his politics, but it was kind of like a joke,” says Jhaveri, who worked with Pai at the Justice Department and is now a tech entrepreneur. “A lot of our close friends were liberal and would give him a hard time about it, but all in good fun.”

After the Justice Department, Pai went to work at Verizon as a corporate attorney, but his foray into the private sector lasted just two years. He went on to Capitol Hill as an aide to two of the most conservative members of the Senate: first Sessions, from Alabama, and then Sam Brownback, who represented Pai’s home state of Kansas. Unlike his bosses, Pai was not a fire-breather on social issues, but he could see who was on the ascent in Washington during George W. Bush’s presidency. Finally, in 2007, Pai found his natural place at the FCC, taking a midlevel position in the general counsel’s office.

Established in 1934 to oversee radio airwaves and the Bell telephone monopoly, the FCC is one of those government institutions that conceals its importance behind an impenetrable veneer of boringness. The agency has historically had a dynamic of symbiosis—to put it politely—with the companies it oversees. FCC staffers deal mainly with lobbyists, and often become lobbyists, shuttling back and forth between K Street and the “8th Floor,” as the commissioners’ suites are known in Washington.