#listen where there’s a will there’s a way but i just finished my degree audit and looks like i will only be able to manage a classics minor | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

nugnthopkns · 3 years

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i wish i could disappear

word count: 3.6k

warnings: explicit!fem reader, cursing, feelings of anxiety due to social media harassment, invasion of privacy that border on stalking

recommended listening: brutal | olivia rodrigo

series masterpost: here

a/n: and we're off to the races!! i love this album and olivia so much. there's a shoutout to goon by tobias jesso jr. in here bc it's my favourite album to cry to lmao (highly recommend giving it a listen!). i'm on the fence about this one but am posting it anyways because i don't think i can make it any better

How the fuck do people find your social media?

All of your accounts are private and Kevin makes sure to never tag you on the rare occasion he posts a picture of the two of you together. The wives and girlfriends who have public accounts make sure to never post about you, and you’re careful not to comment on posts often. You’re a private person and though you understand that due to the nature of your relationship with Kevin you intrigue some fans, you don’t want to give them more than you have to.

Despite making no attempt to open up to the public or media, every day you wake up with hundreds of follow requests from complete strangers. At first it was a little exciting knowing that people were curious about your life but after years of the same routine it’s become draining. It takes you nearly twenty minutes each day to weed through them and accept only the people you know personally. Kevin doesn’t actually know how many people want to catch a glimpse of your daily life because you do your best to keep it from him. Knowing would only bring him stress, and you want him to be able to focus on winning games and loving you with his entire heart.

☼☼☼☼

The phone on your desk rings loudly, pulling your attention away from the computer screen that has way too many numbers on it for your liking. The finance department needed someone to proof their audit before sending it away and since you’re the only one in human relations that has a business degree the job landed on your shoulders. Eager to take a break, you pick it up and press the receiver against your ear.

“Hello?”

The voice on the other side laughs gently, but you immediately know it’s Kevin. “Hi sweetheart,” he says warmly, “How’s work?”

“Fine I guess. It’s work, Kev. Nothing terribly exciting happens here,” you explain but continue to fill him in on all the coffee pot gossip you got this morning. Kevin listens as you complain about forgetting your lunch on the counter and chuckles at how upset the situation makes you.

“What if I told you I’m outside your window with a burrito bowl?”

Excited at the possibility of seeing your boyfriend before dinnertime, you whip towards the window and spot Kevin on the sidewalk, waving like an idiot despite knowing your office is on the fifth floor. You hang up quickly after telling him you’ll be down in two minutes and let the receptionist know you’re stepping out for lunch. There’s a line for the elevator so you head to the stairwell, taking them two at a time in your haste. You’re crossing the street to the small park where Kevin has set up a picnic before your co-workers are even out the door.

You plop down on the blanket beside Kevin and lean into him. He presses a sweet kiss to your forehead before passing you the food he brought. You take a bite, sighing at the taste. Kevin knows you better than you know yourself and knew exactly what to get that would satisfy your mounting hunger.

“Thanks babe,” you smile, holding up your fork and offering him a bite. He takes it graciously but makes a face. “What’s the matter?” you laugh as you take the utensil back.

“I fucking hate avocado.”

The two of you eat in relative silence, speaking only when you remember a detail from your morning. Kevin tells you about the drills he’s going to lead at practice in the afternoon and what he plans on cooking for dinner since he’ll be home before you. You insist you can whip something up when you get home but Kevin shakes his head. He reminds you that relationships are give and take, and that you’ve made dinner the past three nights because he had a string of games. You manage to reach a compromise that has you doing the dishes before you have to return to work.

Kevin insists on walking you back to your office even though you protest vehemently. Your relationship is far from secret, and has been the topic of workplace gossip more times than you can count, but after five years you’ve learned to ignore most of it. However, you don’t want your co-workers to think you flaunt your NHL player boyfriend to prove you’re better than them. They all love Kevin, and a couple of them congratulate him on last night’s goal as he follows you down the hall. A few of the newer hires stare in awe and shake his hand, completely blown away that one of Philadelphia’s biggest stars is asking how they like their jobs.

“Pretty soon they’re going to approach you to do PR for us,” you chuckle as you flip the light on and close the door of your office.

His laughter echoes off the walls as a pair of strong arms find a home around your waist. “It would be kind of fun to hear myself crush those radio commercials.”

“Since when do you listen to the radio?”

“Checkmate,” Kevin sighs, pulling you closer. He kisses you quickly, not wanting to give a show to anyone who could be walking past, but it still sends you reeling. You don’t want him to pull away and kiss him again.

You get your way for a few more moments and then Kevin’s leaving with a promise to not burn the house down and wishes for a good rest of the day. Focussed on giving the audit its final once-over you don’t bother pulling your phone from the drawer you had placed it in when you got to work that morning. You turn up the small radio at the corner of your desk and get to work scanning the document for errors. There’s a mistake halfway through that skews the rest of the data and fixing it takes a bit of time, but it isn’t a huge deal. You have nothing else to do except answer a few emails and organize meetings for after the weekend.

An hour or so later you’ve completed all your tasks and debate what to do. It’s too early to leave for the day, so you decide to kill time by checking your phone. You’re expecting a few notifications, perhaps two or three memes in the group chat you share with your friends, but not the hundreds that greet you.

The majority of them are instagram notifications, and assuming they’re just more fans requesting a follow you ignore them, instead heading to your text messages. There’s a picture from Kevin of a dog he found walking home and another from your mom asking why you haven’t called home in a few weeks. However the one from Claude’s wife is the one that piques your curiosity.

Just a heads up that someone posted a pic of you and Kev to one of those stupid wag pages. I filed a request for Instagram to take it down but it’s gotten a lot of traction. Sorry :((

Your heartbeat increases rapidly and a million thoughts fly through your head at a rapid speed. Fingers shaking, you respond with a thanks and open up the dreaded app. You don’t see it immediately, your feed being full of photos belonging to friends and family, but it’s in your messages almost two hundred times. Many of them have text attached and you know there will be a comment about your relationship regardless of which one you open.

Tapping on the most recent message you brace yourself for the worst. The new window opens a photo someone took of you and Kevin while eating lunch in the park across from your office not even three hours prior. It’s grainy and the camera angle is strange, but you’re eating and Kevin is looking somewhere out of frame. The accompanying caption reads Kev and his girlfriend out for lunch today! Follow @philllywagupdates for more :).

You let out a sigh of relief – it could have been a lot worse. Personal pictures of yourself have made it onto pages like that before and most of them they’re paired with mean-spirited captions about your appearance or other trivial matters. Assuming you’re in the clear, you head back to the page of the original message to thank the person for bringing the post to your attention. However, the message accompanying the post is anything but positive.

He can’t even fucking look at you. It’s only a matter of time before he leaves you

The blood in your veins runs cold. You know it’s not true – Kevin’s made it clear you’re the one and truthfully you’re just waiting for a ring – but it doesn’t stop the sting you feel. What could possess someone to say such horrible things? You decide not to respond despite, possibly opening another can of worms with the seen function, and close the app. Leaning back in your office chair you focus on anything but your phone, looking out the window at passersby while regaining your breath. It works for a while, but eventually not knowing what others said eats away at you. You go through every single message to see hundreds of similar comments to the first, with only a few saying they’re glad you’re happy or how posting the picture is a violation of your privacy.

By the time you’re finished your spirit has been crushed. However, it’s also an acceptable time to start the weekend – at least no one in the office will have to see you cry. Things are hastily packed into your bag and you wave a few quick goodbyes before once again taking the stairs. You curse yourself for deciding to walk to work that morning and set off in the direction of home wiping away tears. The last thing you need right now is for someone to recognize you, but you have to get home. Tobias Jesso Jr plays at much too loud a volume through your headphones and Kevin will most certainly remind you it’s bad for your hearing, but the melancholy piano riffs of Goon overpower the thoughts swirling around your head.

Do people really feel that way about me?

Are my friends just too nice to stop inviting me places?

Does Kevin really feel trapped?

Hundreds of similar sentiments and situations cross your mind as you stumble through the streets of downtown Philadelphia, but you force them as far back as possible before opening the door to the apartment you share with Kevin. Hoping to slip inside undetected, you take your shoes off slowly and throw your jacket on the end table instead of hanging it in the closet. Your plan fails somehow and Kevin hears you, greeting you in a goofy apron covered in flour.

“Hey sweetheart,” he smiles, but it drops once your eyes meet and he sees the hurt on your face. “What’s the matter?”

“It’s nothing,” you insist, trying to step around him in pursuit of the bathroom.

Kevin doesn’t buy it and sees right through your feeble words. “It’s not nothing if you’re this upset. If you don’t want to talk now that’s fine, but I think you should get it off your chest.”

You know he’s right, but you also know you can’t tell him the true cause of your despair. “Just some work stuff,” you sigh. “The audit got all fucked up and I had to fix it even though it’s not my job.”

It’s not technically a lie, which makes you feel better, and Kevin buys it. He presses a sweet kiss to your lips in sympathy. “Go take a shower and the gnocchi should be ready by the time you’re done. We can spend the night cuddling on the couch.”

“And watching Selling Sunset?”

“We can watch whatever you want sweetheart,” he chuckles. You part from him with a final kiss and head to the bathroom. Hopefully the steam from the water will carry away the negativity brought on by that damn post.

☼☼☼☼

Time passes but the hateful comments on social media don’t stop. In fact, you’re pretty sure they get worse. It’s so bad that you’ve deleted every app except facebook because you need it for work. Kevin doesn’t notice your abstinence from social media, but he picks up on how you spend more time criticizing yourself or staring off into space. When he pushes you either brush him off or feed some bullshit excuse about how work is getting you down. You know he doesn’t believe you but trusts you enough to come to him when you’re ready to talk.

You aren’t sure if you’ll ever be able to tell Kevin what’s been going on. There’s been scrutiny from social media before, when you first started dating, but it quieted down after the initial media frenzy. He helped you through that but it’s different this time around. Never before have you had strangers tell you your life is worthless or that your boyfriend should end your relationship. Some of the other wags notice your absence on instagram but chalk it up to you just taking a break. They reach out via the group chat and send wishes to see you at the next home game. It’s nice to know they care, but the voice in your head that has grown much larger in recent weeks tells you they don’t truly mean it. This leads you to decline the invite as politely as possible, citing extended work hours for your absence. In reality you’re too anxious to be anywhere that isn’t home or work, petrified someone is going to post something that will add fuel to the flames of those who interrogate you.

It’s another Friday afternoon, and you’re leaving the office early once again. There’s a small craft exhibition taking place around the corner from work and today is the last day it’s open. You had been meaning to go all week, hoping to find something small to add to Kevin’s birthday gift. As you step out of the building there’s a small group of young women, who don’t look old enough to have graduated college, standing off to the side. It fills you with dread, worried that somehow someone found out where you work and the insults are going to start occurring verbally, but you force yourself to be rational. You work fairly close to one of the artsier districts in the city and it’s more than likely they just want to find a cute mural to take pictures in front of.

You pass by and swear you hear them snicker, but you remind yourself you’ve just been jumpy lately. When they peel from their place on the wall and follow behind at a distance you think the coincidences are running out. It seems a little too strange how their movements line up with yours, and you go down a few winding side streets in an attempt to lose them. Part of you feels ridiculous because what group of barely legal girls would track a full-blown adult around a city of nearly two million people, but your life is currently strange enough you can’t be sure. They don’t follow you, and by the time you reach the market your heart rate has returned to normal.

The first few stalls have little to catch your eye, but a few rows in you find a leatherworker who makes adorable wallets. Kevin’s is ridiculously old and falling apart at the seams – his mom bought it for him before the two of you got together. You think a new one will make a perfect addition to the concert tickets you already bought and browse the table for something simple and elegant. A deep brown one with tan braiding around the edges catches your eye and you know it’s the one for Kevin. Checking the price to make sure you have enough cash in your wallet, you approach the shop owner to purchase. The older man has a kind smile that reaches his eyes as he thanks you for purchasing from him.

“No, thank you for making something so beautiful!” you gush. “My boyfriend is going to love it.”

It’s then you hear it – snickering accompanied by the click of a camera. You look over your shoulder to see the same group of girls from before laughing as they huddle over a cell phone, no doubt already starting to broadcast the photo across the internet. Tears prick at the corners of your eyes but you refuse to let them fall. Those girls don’t deserve to see their mission accomplished, but the longer they laugh at you the harder it is to swallow your feelings.

Head held high, you thank the owner one more time before holding your head high and walking past the group. The only way out is past them so you hold your breath and pray they don’t notice you. Unfortunately you aren’t that lucky, and one of them looks up just as you come into earshot.

“If Kevin doesn’t leave you after that sorry excuse for a gift I don’t know what’s wrong with him,” she sneers.

Another one chimes in, “You’re honestly so pathetic.” They all cackle in amusement, and you speed up. The tears flow freely now, and you call an uber even though it will be a ridiculous amount of money. You just want to get home.

The uber driver doesn’t say anything when you get in, though you know it’s strange to be bawling your eyes out at four in the afternoon. You can’t help it – weeks of keeping all the hate to yourself finally got to you and being followed with the sole intent of ridicule is the final straw. At one red light he silently passes you a box of tissues, which you accept gratefully.

Luckily the lobby of your apartment complex is empty and you manage to get to your floor without encountering a familiar face. There’s a few hours until Kevin gets home from his final roadtrip of the season, and if you play your cards right you can get all the tears out and be as normal as possible before he comes through the door. You don’t even bother to put anything away, just head straight to the bathroom to slump against the tub. Sobs rack your body and you lose all sense of time. All you can feel is the hurt you’ve been holding in releasing itself and soaking the material of your blouse.

Kevin finds you laying in the position hours later. He tripped over your shoes coming in the door and immediately knew something was wrong – you always place them neatly on the rack in the closet upon arriving home. Peering through the quiet house for a hint at where you are, he sees the bathroom light on and makes a beeline for the room. It breaks his heart to see you like this, and even more so because he doesn’t know what spurred it on.

“Sweetheart, hey,” he coos, maneuvering his body to sit beside you and pull you into his lap. “What’s the matter?”

You bury your head in his shoulder and clutch the material of his dress shirt as you cry harder at the sound of his voice. Kevin takes your reaction in stride, rubbing circles on your back and working on evening out your breath. He doesn’t pressure you to speak and provides the stability you desperately crave as the world around you spins. An unknown amount of time passes before your tears run out, but spend it all on the bathroom floor curled into Kevin.

“I guess I should have told you sooner,” you mumble, “But I didn’t want to bother you.”

Concern laces Kevin’s features and his eyebrows knit together. “Tell me what?”

“I, uh, have been the subject of some internet hate for the past little bit,” you say sheepishly. It feels stupid to not have told him now, but you can’t change that. “But you were really busy with the season and I wanted to make sure your head was completely focused on the game so I just dealt with it myself. I deleted the apps and tried my best to go about my life. And then today after work I was followed by some people and they said some really hurtful stuff and shit became a little too real.”

“I’m so fucking sorry.”

It’s your turn to be confused. “Why are you sorry Kev? You're Not the one sending me death threats.”

He tucks a loose strand of hair back into your ponytail. “Maybe not, but I still made you feel like you couldn’t talk to me about what was going on. What kind of partner am I?”

“The best one,” you say confidently. “It’s okay, I’m okay. I just want to forget about it right now. Can we just disappear for a little bit?”

Kevin wraps his arms around you tighter, as if he can engulf you to protect from the cruel outside world. “We can do whatever you want. If you want to get out of the city for a bit if you want, or just spend the next few days here away from prying eyes.”

“I love you.”

You say it because you mean it, and if you could scream it from the rooftops you would. Kevin is incredibly easy to love, even when you make it difficult for him to love you back. You know another much longer conversation is coming about everything that has happened recently because communication is the only way to solve problems and Kevin deserves that, but you’re thankful he’s willing to put it to rest for a few more moments.

He cracks a smile for the first time since he’s been home and kisses the crown of your head. “I love you too sweetheart,” he whispers, “Always and forever.”

Things are far from over and though you still never want to show your face in public ever again, you know that Kevin is going to do whatever he can to make things better and that’s enough for you.

☼☼☼☼

taglist: @ricohenrique @tortito @boqvistsbabe @iwantahockeyhimbo @himbos-on-ice @2manytabsopen if you want to be added just shoot me an ask :)

#i don't love this but here it is!!!#one day i'll like the stories i write #kevin hayes imagine #kevin hayes x reader #kevin hayes fic #philadelphia flyers imagine #nhl imagine #nhl fic #hockey imagine #hockey fic #cwrites #sour

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spidey-sophie · 4 years

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Tangled In The Sheets | Tom Holland One Shot

Pairing: Tom Holland x Female Reader (exes to lovers)

Warnings: angst-ish, smut, unprotected sex, fingering, oral (female receiving), overstimulation, squirting, ass play, angsty sex

Summary: You were the one who told him it didn't mean that you guys were back together. "I agree," he said as his lips reached for the weak spot on your neck, "it's just for the fun of it."

Word Count: 5.6k

Notes: The biggest THANK YOU ever goes to the immensely talented @worldoftom. She made this 100 times better and I’d be lost without her!

It was just another Friday night. Ever since you got your bachelor’s degree, you had yet to get used to having no paperwork to be done. It was a big achievement for you, but somehow you still didn’t manage to properly celebrate it. You just wanted to stay home, listen to some music, go through one of your favorite books or movies. But the sound of your roommates getting ready for yet another party was distracting.

You were just about to put your headphones on when you heard your friend Zoe calling your name. She entered your room, looking excited, all dressed up and beautiful, which made you chuckle because you were sitting in your room, your hair in a messy bun, bags of chips all over your bed.

“Come over Y/N, Alex and I need your help!” she practically pulled you out of your bed. What could they possibly need you for?

“Hello, Y/N! Welcome to your intervention!” Alex proclaimed while she held a couple of dresses in her hands.

You opened your mouth to object, but she interrupted you.

“We decided to finally get you out of bed. We won’t take no for an answer. It’s the biggest party of the year. After studying so hard this whole semester, we think you need to relax. You were like the best student in our class, and it’s finally time for you to celebrate it!”

“And we made sure he won’t be there," she added. "You need to have some fun, ever since you broke up with…”

“Don’t say his name Alex!” Zoe hissed through her teeth, angry eyes on Alex. “So what do you say?” she quickly turned back to you.

“I really appreciate everything you girls did, but I really need to finish some laundry and I have some stuff to pack and…” you trailed off.

You were glad your friends cared this much about you, of course, but the thought of going out, the crowd, the loud music, alcohol, cigarettes... No, you wanted to skip all of that. Both Zoe and Alex were also single so there was a chance they’d hook up with someone which then would mean you'd be left all alone. So thanks, but no thanks.

You still weren’t interested in dating. It kind of felt like it was too soon after your last attempt. Even though you knew he might’ve moved on.

“Pleaseee Y/N, this will be our big graduation celebration party! I’ll borrow you my black backless dress that I know you love!” Alex said and showed you the dress she was holding in her hands.

“If I say yes, will you both leave me alone for the next like two months and stop blackmailing me into going to pubs and parties?” you asked, swiftly seizing the dress Alex was holding.

They both started screaming and hugging you at those words.

The rest of the evening went by pretty quickly. Zoe helped you with your hair and you applied some makeup. Nothing drastic, just something to enhance your features. You didn’t want to go all out with hair or makeup because the dress Alex borrowed you was the star of the show. It was a short, black dress with spaghetti straps that cross on your back. For the first time in a while, you were actually happy about how you look.

“Okay, let’s go,” you said as you joined your friends in your living room. Zoe just nodded at you, since she knew how compliments made you feel.

“Look at you femme fatale.” As Alex said this and went by your side, she slapped your bum.

“Stop it or you’ll never see this dress again,” you threatened. And with those words you were already in your uber, heading to the club where your friends from university were throwing a party.

It was a big club, on two floors with a big balcony area. As you arrived you recognized some faces, but there were many that you’d never seen. As it turned out, the word of the party got spread through town really quickly.

You found a place where you could sit and one of Zoe’s not-so-secret admirers kept sending you drinks. As night went by you felt yourself getting a bit lightheaded. There was a warmth going through your body, a spurt of energy that made you grab Alex and head right to the dance floor. It’d been a long time since you felt this carefree. You had no idea if it was because of the alcohol or because you were finally done with your studying, but you felt free. After a few songs went by, you left Alex with some of her friends and went to the bar to get another beer.

“Hi, I’m Mark,” you heard a deep voice behind you and as you turned around you noticed a cute blonde-haired boy.

“Hi, I’m Y/N.” You grabbed your beer and had an internal debate about whether you should stay here and talk to this cute boy. On the one hand, it wouldn’t hurt to flirt a little. On the other hand, flirting and talking didn’t have to lead into anything more with this guy. (Or anyone.)

Just when you decided you should give Mark a chance, you noticed someone familiar. It felt like you would always recognize those light blue eyes. You stopped listening to whatever this guy next to you was talking about and focused on another blonde boy. It was dark in the room, but as far as you could see, he was alone, just some girls around him.

You excused yourself away from Mark and went back to Alex on the dance floor.

“So much of you making sure he won’t be here. Guess who I just saw – Harrison!”

“Really? Well, he told me he and Tom were going to another party! Was Tom with him?” Alex started justifying herself.

“Why are you talking to Harrison? Nevermind, where’s Zoe?” Alex was just about to hug you, her eyes filled with empathy, but you had to change the subject. And as much as you tried, you started to feel nauseous. You couldn’t face Tom now. Not yet. The crowded room started suffocating you, you had to go outside to get some fresh air.

“I’ll just go out on the balcony for a bit and I’ll go home, okay? I’m feeling sick, must be because of all the booze. Thank you for finally bringing me out.” You hugged her and started fighting your way through the crowd.

While you were walking, all the memories about your relationship with Tom infected your mind. If anyone asked you right now, you had no idea why you two broke up. You were together for a year and a half. You met him through Zoe. There was a time when she wanted to be a model and she found an aspiring photographer, Harry, who had a brother named Tom. One night, Zoe decided the four of you should go out, and that’s all it took.

Your relationship in the beginning felt like a dream. That first year of your relationship was the best year of your life. The two of you were inseparable. He was everything you ever dreamed of. Handsome, charming, funny, honest. But there was one thing that always scared you about him. He was adventurous and wild, two things you did not have in common. At first you guys worked out. Some nights you would stay home and watch movies and cuddle, which was delightful. Other nights you wanted to please him so you went out clubbing, and sometimes you even went on trips with him and his family. All of this was fine, but as time went by, all of your differences started to become more and more obvious.

It’s like he was the light, the warmest, nicest person you ever met. And you were the complete opposite, often called a “tough one” by everyone who knew you. During the early days, his light was strong enough to bring out the best in you. You started going out more, you were smiling more often and more sincerely. No one knew you like he did. Every time you had a big exam, he was the one encouraging you and going through your notes with you. When you were sick, he was there to help you. And it wasn't like you never reciprocated. You were going through his scripts with him, driving him to auditions. You were his first and biggest fan.

He was an aspiring young actor so he had to have a big social circle. You were just starting your last year of studies, so your main goal was your education. He started filming more and more often outside of Europe, and you slowly started to drift apart. As his career skyrocketed, you felt like the distance wasn’t helping your relationship. He always made sure you were fine. And sometimes you were, sometimes you weren’t. Especially when he was out there, somewhere across the ocean, filming or doing who knew what. He was surrounded by beautiful actresses and models, so some days the jealousy got the best of you. You’d call him and get mad if he didn’t respond right away. Then you’d make up. But after that, he’d get mad at you because you never wanted to go with him to wherever his new film was getting made.

After six months of trying to work things out, you both made the most painful decision of your lives. You both decided to go your separate ways. Sometimes love is just not enough. There were too many things standing in between you. A promise to always check up on each other was made.

The first month without him was the hardest one. You would wake up and check his social media, sometimes you would even text each other. Those were mostly friendly texts, sometimes flirty. But those were the crumbs that kept you up during that whole day.

A month later, he came back to London. And that was when you received a message saying he’d come by your place to pick up some clothes he had left there. However, from the moment he walked in, you knew it wasn’t just about the clothes. Your skin was flushing at the sight of him. Both of you just stood there in silence. You saw the same urge you felt beneath your fingertips in his honey eyes. The aftermath was a battle to see who would cave first.

It was only the first time you had sex after breaking up. You were addicted to his touch. To his tongue. His hands. No one had ever made you feel the way he could.

The second time was after you accidentally met at a pub. There was a magnetic force that led you to him. It was messy, full of excuses and flirty innuendos. In the end, you almost did it in the bathroom, but you were both sane enough to drive back to his place instead. You both insisted there should be no strings attached. Just doing it for the sake of old times. You were the one who told him it didn't mean that you guys were back together.

"I agree," he said as his lips reached for the weak spot on your neck, "it's just for the fun of it."

After that night, you met a few more times. Almost every time you guys would end up breathless, feet tangled in the sheets. And every time you both insisted it was just that – a purely physical release and that there wouldn't be a next time. But as those meetings became more frequent, the more you started thinking about him. You finally realized the only thing you wanted was him. You thought you were ready to change for him. With only one more exam left to pass, you thought to yourself that maybe it was time to start over. Since you wouldn't be under so much pressure, you could follow him while he was filming, travel and get to see what the world had to offer.

You called him only minutes later and told him you should see each other that night. Tom agreed and said he had something important to tell you. You let him go first, since you were too nervous to come clean about your feelings. And that was your biggest mistake.

He told you he was going away for a few months.

And he told you that you should start seeing other people.

Hearing that was a hard punch to the stomach, but you only let yourself gape at him for a few seconds before you shrugged it off.

You wished him luck and that was the last time you saw him. It took you a lot to pick up the pieces. A lot of failed first dates. Some drunk nights. Countless crying nights. It’s been another six months since you last saw him. You knew he was back in London, but you ignored his calls. If you wanted him out of your life, you needed to get him out of your head first. And your phone.

Your hands were wrapped around you as the fresh air caught you. Just as you were about to step out on the balcony, you saw him. He was talking on the phone with someone, smiling. When he looked up at you, his smile grew wider and he winked at you. It was too late for you to just turn around and run away. How could you, your knees felt like they were some overcooked noodles.

He looked different. Dressed in all black. His body was even more muscular than the last time you explored it with your mouth. His curly hair was gone. Short hair looked really good on him. It was a hot summer night so he was wearing a black shirt with a few of his buttons unbuttoned.

“Well hello there,” he said as he finished his phone call.

“Hello to you too.” You didn’t want to risk it, so you kept your distance. If you came any closer to him, there was a chance you’d run into his arms, which was the last thing you wanted.

“So… how have you been?” he asked, hands running through his head. Everything he did it looked so precise, magnetizing, so much so that it kept pulling you closer to him. Every move he made attracted you even more.

“Okay… Good. I finally have my degree. And how about you?” The nervousness you felt was starting to fade. You tried to keep it together and you were sure that there was no way he could feel how his presence made you feel.

“I just finished filming a very emotional movie. So I’m taking a break for a few weeks, maybe months. I missed being home,” That was another thing that drove you crazy about him - how confident he looked while speaking.

“How is everybody?” You finally decided to approach him a little bit. Now you were on the balcony too, but still far enough from him.

“Oh they’re fine. Dad just wrote another book and he actually said he’d like you to read it.”

“Really? Thanks, I'd like that,” you said. You'd always got along with his family and it was another thing you missed about him.

“Also congratulations on your degree! What are your plans now?”

“I don’t know, the sky's the limit. Speaking of plans, I see you decided to join the military!” you pointed at his head and he smiled again.

“It was for the film. I kind of like it now that I got used to it,” he said, running his hands through his head. It made you wonder how it would feel on yours.

Standing here, facing him, watching his every move, you couldn't help but feel like you were trying to tell each other how you were feeling with your eyes. You knew he was glad to see you, because you were too.

“Well it looks really nice on you.” You looked him in the eyes. The alcohol you drank prior this meeting gave you the courage to come a little closer to him. And he looked right back at you. You knew that look he used to give you. It was usually when he was infatuated with you.

“And you look gorgeous tonight.” He took one step closer to you. All of your senses were focused on his perfume. Tom didn’t break eye contact with you. A few moments passed, filled with silence, but it wasn’t awkward; it was comforting. Something about his presence felt so familiar, so warm and sweet.

“Do you remember how you used to dress up for me?” he asked, and you knew very well what he was thinking about. Sometimes you would put on your best lingerie under a sheer lace dress or a robe. This was something you did after he was away for too long, just a little gift for him.

“Yes I do, and I remember how many times you ripped my underwear.” It was something that both annoyed and turned you on.

“And how about that time when we did it in your parents' basement?” he said softly and he was so close now, there were only a few inches between the two of you.

“We only did it because you initiated it,” you decided to play his game. You moved your hair on your shoulder, making sure he could see your neck.

“It was because you did this…” and he did the exact thing you did back then – he put his hands around your waist and brought you closer to him. You could hear him breathing heavily in your ear.

“And you did this.”

You kissed him. Your heart was pounding, you could feel it in your throat. His lips were addictive and after six months, you were finally taking another hit. His hands were still on your waist keeping you flush against him. It was like you couldn’t get enough of him. You knew you shouldn’t be doing this, not after all the promises you made to yourself. But your body and heart wanted him. His tongue was warm and tasted like beer, too irresistible.

He ran his fingers down your back, all the way to your bottom. Tom had never seemed so needy. As his hands finally grabbed both of your ass cheeks, you felt yourself getting wet. You moaned into his mouth and you could feel him smiling. When you finally remembered to breathe, you both stopped kissing, but your heads were still next to each other.

“Your place or mine?” he said, voice deep and needy.

“Yours is closer.”

The drive to his place felt like it lasted for hours. There was music playing, but you weren’t paying any attention to it, you were just watching him drive. He looked so hot when he was focused on the road, slightly smiling because he knew what was about to happen. The longer you looked at him, the more your thighs trembled in anticipation.

As soon as you entered his house, he slammed you into the wall and started kissing you again. His leg was between yours, keeping them apart. Your hands were wrapped around his neck. You were so needy for a release that your hips started instinctively going up and down his leg. You could feel the wet trace you left on his pants. The kiss got messier, and you needed him to touch you.

“I want you so much,” you breathed into his mouth. He tried to get you out of your dress, but the knot on the back was too tight. As he couldn’t wait any longer, he ripped it apart. An old habit of his that you hated right now.

“Alex is going to kill you, this was her dress.”

“I’ll buy her a new one.” He smiled into your neck and left wet kisses where the straps used to be. You held his face between your hands and started kissing him again. You bit his bottom lip, as a punishment for doing something you didn’t like. Everything he did drove you crazy. The way he hummed in your mouth, the way he kissed your neck, the way he cupped your breasts.

You were naked in front of him. He stripped you down all the way. You were exposed but you didn’t feel that way. He stepped back, to look at your whole body. You took this moment to move backwards, trying to find something for better support. You stumbled upon a pair of shoes, but before you could chastise Tom about it, your hand hit the top of the console table. It would have to do.

You could tell by the look on his face he was enjoying himself, smirking at you as you moved. If it was anybody else, you’d probably feel ashamed and would try to cover yourself with your hands, but you didn’t need to do that with him. Besides the many times you hurt each other over the years, he was always the one you felt like you belonged to.

And another thing you knew about him was that he liked to be in control. Which was something you loved. But not tonight.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he blurted out and he smashed his lips on yours again. The kiss was needy and raw, filled with all the lust you still have for each other. He held you by the back of your neck the way he always did, it was like he'd never even left. The twinge between your legs felt just as familiar, especially as he replaced his lips with two of his fingers. He was moving them in and out of your mouth until your saliva started dribbling down your chin. You took his hand and moved it from your mouth all the way down to your pulsating core. There was a slight surprise on Tom’s face, it wasn't usual for you to be this bossy in bed. You were looking him straight in the eyes as he started to fuck you with the two fingers he had had in your mouth just a few seconds ago.

Your pussy was even wetter than your mouth. You used his shoulders to steady yourself and jammed his face against yours, eager to kiss him again. Slow and hard. As he paced his fingers, you started touching his already rock hard dick. You were barely touching his head, but you could hear him moan and he started to gently thrust his hips into your hands. He wanted to be touched and he clearly wanted it now.

“You like that?” you asked him, neither of you stopping your movements.

“Yes,” he moaned in your mouth. He was melting under your touch.

“Good. Go down on me and maybe you’ll get more,” you told him between kisses and stopped touching him. Without any words, he obeyed and kneeled in front of you.

You touched the side of his head gingerly to test his reaction, and he was quick to lean into your touch. Your hips rest against the table, and as he put your left leg over his shoulder to keep you in place, his head moved back too. His buzz cut tickled your skin and you felt pathetic about how much it turned you on. It made your hips tilt forward and without any teasing, Tom went straight to your clit with his tongue. A loud moan escaped your lips. Both of your hands were going up and down his shaved head, all the way down to his neck. He was looking up at you. Just looking at his eyes was enough to make the fire in your clit into an explosion. His tongue was flicking and pulling around your swollen clit until your legs started shaking.

“That feels so good, please keep doing that,” you instructed. His mouth was open wide and he stuck his tongue out. Your hips were buckling, practically riding his wide tongue. You needed more, so you used your arms on the console to hold you steady. It was wobbly, but cradled his head awkwardly between your thighs, letting the prickle of his growing hair spur you on. Your moans only got louder, but you didn’t care if anybody could hear. You just wanted to release the tension in your body. As your movements became more and more eager, he suddenly pulled his head away from you. He helped you hop off from his shoulders and stood up, his face covered in your juices. You were so close to cumming you could barely function.

Stopping was his way to pay you back.

“Turn around,” he whispered in your ear and now it was your turn to obey. From the first moment since you turned around, his hands were wrapped around your waist. Your pussy was throbbing so hard so you instinctively spread your legs apart for him. He unzipped his pants and pulled down his boxers. You arched your back even more at the sound of his belt falling on the ground.

Your elbows were between two flower vases, next to the bowl where you knew he usually left his keys. He was about to enter you from behind, you could sense the heat from his cock, twitching against your skin. But he didn’t move any further. It seemed like this was his moment to tease you, and you let him. He started by rubbing the crown of his head between your shoulder blades. You felt his hand snake around your waist like he was holding you in place. The other was stuck in between you as he guided his dick between your legs until the tip found your clit, rubbing it in small circles at first. His movements were so slow that you wouldn’t even feel them if you weren’t already this swollen and sensitive. He cupped your breast with his free hand, moving his dick across your folds with the other. Every time he moved, you could feel your belly clenching. All your muscles were tensing, waiting for him to do something more. You were so close to orgasming for so many times that you couldn’t take any more teasing.

His movements on your clit became faster and faster. Your wetness was spread all the way from his head, down his length and on his hand. His movements became too intense for you, both of your legs were shaking and at one point you felt like you were about to faint. Your clit was overstimulated, but at the same time you felt so empty. You needed him inside you.

“Tom… just stop,” you said breathlessly.

“Stop what?” he said as he finally stopped moving.

“Just stop teasing and fuck me already.” And at those words, he slammed into you. You gasped at the strength of his thrust. It hurt, but it hurt so sweetly. He was so, so deep inside you, and you were wet. Welcoming. Pleased by the stretch of his member. Your screams were mixed with his loud moans. He was never very vocal in bed, so this turned you on even more.

“Do you like that?” Tom asked you.

“Yes, just keep doing that.”

He was thrusting into you. His dick was getting all the way out and then back in, balls deep. His groans were filled with pleasure. You were clenching and tightening around his length. Waves of immense pleasure hit you as his movements became faster.

The hand that was cupping your breast fell down on your ass. His free hand went back to your clit, helping you to finally achieve your climax. His touch this time was light, he knew just what he previously did to you and that you didn’t need much stimulation to explode in his hands. You could feel it closer than ever. His hands were all over your ass and hips, guiding them fast and hard into him. His fingers were so wet so he was spreading the wetness up and down between your cheeks with his thumb. If he wanted, he could just put it in with ease. It was something that always excited you anyway.

After so much teasing, a warm crash of pleasure hit you from high above. At that moment, Tom let his finger slip into your ass. The unexpectedness and the pleasure of it all made you cry out loud. And with a few more shallow thrusts you were about to finally come.

“Tom… I’m gonna…,” but you couldn’t finish your sentence. Your orgasm hit you hard and you started shaking. You finally lost control over your body. The immense pleasure and the urge to pee were the only thing you could feel. You’d never felt like this. He wasn’t moving now save for his thumb, helping you come down from your high.

“It’s okay,” he told you while holding you as you started to calm down. Your wetness was leaking on both of your legs. “How do you do this to me, Y/N?” he asked while starting to move again inside of you, slowly this time.

“I don’t feel like this with anybody else,” you whispered, drawing your hips forward so he would slip out. Then you turned around and kissed him. He slid his tongue into your mouth and you sucked it. You hopped onto the table, facing him, your legs wrapped around him instinctively. His lips left yours and started kissing your jaw all the way to your ear.

“Me neither,” he whispered in your hair while he kissed your ear.

“Come inside me,” you whispered back and he slid back in. Your hands were on the small of his back, guiding him into you. He was already deep in, but you somehow wanted more of him. You wanted this moment to stay forever. He was hugging you while thrusting slowly and deeply. It only lasted a few more seconds and he couldn’t hold it anymore. With moans and grunts, you watched and felt him let go. He was shivering and pulling you close.

Once he finished, you were both quiet. He licked his lips and kissed you again. His sperm was starting to leak out of you so he had to pull out, even though you both didn’t want this feeling to ever stop.

“Wait I’ll bring you a towel,” he said and started to pull up his pants, but they were all wet from the way you'd squirted when he was fucking you. You even felt a little ashamed since this was the first time you'd made this big of a mess, but Tom was quick to reassure you. Just as you were about to say you were sorry, Tom put his finger on your lips and told you, “It’s unbelievably sexy how hard you came, don’t worry about this.”

“I’ll buy you new ones,” you mimicked his previous joke, and you both smiled at each other. He took one moment just to look at you, silently and then finally went to get some towels.

You both cleaned yourselves in silence, smiling at each other from time to time or stealing glances. Tom also brought you his shirt and shorts. Once you were both dressed, you hugged each other again. For the first time in months, you felt happy. It was like you expressed all of your emotions through sex. All of your anger and sadness were gone. He cupped your chin and pecked your lips.

But his eyes went from smiling to looking very sad. You could feel the tears forming in yours as well.

“Why didn’t you return any of my calls?” he asked, breaking the comforting silence.

“Fuck Tom, do we have to do this right now?” you asked and stepped away from the hug. He didn’t answer so you continued, “I don’t know, maybe ‘cause you wanted to see other people?”

“I only wanted that because you were the one who broke up with me and insisted that everything after the breakup was just sex.”

“And you were the one travelling around the world!" you boomed. "You got scared. You decided that we should try to be with someone else instead of talking things through and finding some way to work things out.”

Another silent moment. But this time it wasn’t comforting at all. You were standing on opposite sides of his room. You were scared he’d hurt you again.

“Okay, I got scared,” you were just about to leave when you heard him, “I got scared that I’ll be the one holding you down. That maybe you’ll find someone who you can be with, someone who will always be here for you and fulfill all your needs. I want you. I’ve always wanted you. And you were the one who always wanted us to hook up casually, so I thought maybe you didn’t want any strings attached while I’m away. And that was my stupid way of letting you go. But I can’t let you go. I keep thinking about you. When I’m alone, when I’m with someone else… It’s always about you.”

“I wanted to go away with you,” you were finally able to say something back. After all this time, you told him what you'd wanted to say that night he left. The night he took your heart and shattered it. And now here he was, snapping the pieces back together at last. Fixing the puzzle he had scrambled before, pumping it back to life until it was pounding hard in your chest. So hard you could barely hear your own thoughts.

“What?” Tom asked, but you couldn’t repeat what you just said. “Do you still want to?” He approached you, his eyebrows furrowed. He wasn’t too close, like he was afraid to pull you back in and touch you. You nodded.

After that nod, he hugged you.

You smiled into his neck. And a strong tug in your gut made you daring enough to think that you two might work out this time.

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eggtoasties · 3 years

Text

Chapter One: I. Allegro

Pairing: Kuroo Tetsuro x Reader

Rating: G

Word Count: 3.2k

Summary: Kuroo used to think the best sound in the world was a volleyball hitting the court on the other side of the net. Now, he has other things on his repertoire.

Counter point: Good counterpoint requires two qualities: (1) a meaningful or harmonious relationship between the lines (a “vertical” consideration—i.e., dealing with harmony) and (2) some degree of independence or individuality within the lines themselves (a “horizontal” consideration, dealing with melody).

It was illogical really, Kuroo thought to himself, having to take a mandatory arts class. He was an athlete. He would probably major in STEM or business the next year if he didn’t go pro. But here he was, staring at the course catalogue, deciding between different bands, choirs, art classes, and orchestra. Irritatingly, Kenma had finished his arts requirement last year, taking a video editing class which Kuroo thought was definitely cheating since he figured Kenma already knew the basics. Plus, he not-so-secretly believed that Kenma would benefit from another non-electronic hobby.

Sighing, he assessed each class. He knew he was tone deaf and did not want others listening to him sing. Plus, he’s seen the red cummerbunds and bow ties the choir had to wear for concerts and refused to give his teammates the blackmail fodder even if Yaku thought it looked “refined.”

To be honest, Kuroo didn’t know much about the arts. He only had the vaguest understanding of the differences between Watercolor 101, Figure drawing 101, and Oil Painting 101. While he thought of himself in the studio, palette in hand with an apron tied around him, working intently at the easel on the next generational masterpiece, he remembered when Kenma threw his pencil-drawn mockups of promotional posters in the trash and told him not to show the rest of the team.

While maybe he could try digital media, he couldn’t help but imagine himself against the romanticized backdrop of more traditional arts.

He had to choose between the several band electives and orchestra. He couldn’t do marching band—he wouldn’t be caught dead in those uniforms, wind ensemble had auditions he surely wouldn’t pass, jazz band had mandatory solos, but symphonic band was for rookies. ‘Beginners welcome,’ was typed out with an asterisk under the listing. But, so did orchestra. Doing a quick search to figure out the difference between band and orchestra, Kuroo weighed his options.

He took piano lessons from ages four through ten before finally convincing his parents to let him quit—wearing them down by crying every week and throwing a mini tantrum at daily practice—not that he intentionally did it as an elementary school student. But, even from an early age, he knew volleyball was it for him.

While he wasn’t well acquainted with classical music, he had grown up with it from his parents. Well, when they were irritated with the bickering matches between him and his older sister, their parents would crank up the car radio, drowning their yelling. His mom would tell him she used to play Mozart for him when he was a baby which is why he grew so tall—which he would always say makes no sense—and occasionally, a film score would make the hairs on his arms rise even when he was trying to focus on the scene.

So he decided. He’d enroll in orchestra for the year, make himself unnoticeable in the back, and fulfill his arts requirement so he could graduate high school and maybe apply to university. Plus, he figured, as he ticked the box next to orchestra, he’d finally be able to wear his suit his parents bought him, saying that he’d need it eventually.

Folding the course registration paper and sliding it into an envelope to be sent to Nekoma High, he stood up from his seat at the low dining room table and decided to go to Kenma’s, figuring they could squeeze some volleyball practice before summer vacation ended.

The first day of his third year was unextraordinary. He woke up tired, coaxed his bed head into something manageable, and started his commute to school, picking Kenma up on the way. Double and triple checking his course schedule on his phone and reminding his teammates that they all had to help out in advertising the volleyball club—well, maybe except Yaku—he tapped his toes with a mix of nervousness and anticipation.

His classes were nothing special, most of them a continuation of the year before or courses he carefully picked with the advice of his seniors. But, walking towards the orchestra room at the far side of the building where all the music classes were, he felt a familiar rush of nervous adrenaline spike—not unlike the nerves before a big match. But this time, he couldn’t be confident in his own skills or rely on a team to back him up. Counting the room numbers until it matched the one on his registration, he found the room with its double doors propped open.

Striding in, the large open space was in various states of organized chaos. Other students were already moving chairs in uniform columns, two to a row, and were pulling instruments out of cases. Unsure of what to do, he immediately found the teacher.

“Hi Jouda-sensei, I’m Kuroo Tetsuro,” he introduced. “I’m new—where should I sit?”

“Hi Tetsuro-kun, it’s nice to meet you,” she said warmly. “Ah, yes I see you enrolled as a beginner.” Flipping through the pages on her clipboard she hummed, “Is there a particular instrument you’d like to play?” sweeping a hand across the room. “We could always use more violas, we have enough cellos, weirdly too many basses, but we could also stick you with the second violins?”

Kuroo didn’t quite know the difference between violas and violins but figured ‘second’ violins implied that there was also a ‘first’ violins group and that he’d be more likely to be able to hide in the back in a bigger group.

“Yeah,” he drawled out confidently, “I actually wanted to learn violin.”

“Okay, perfect. Here—” she motioned another student over. “Tetsuro-kun, meet Daisuke-kun.” Daisuke greeted Kuroo with a shallow bow and Kuroo responded with a head nod, mentally rolling his eyes at Daisuke’s subtle disapproval.

“He’s first chair of the second violins,” Jouda-sensei continued, “he’ll get you set up. Daisuke-kun, have him take one of the rentals and teach him the ropes. Today’s mostly getting people set up if they don’t have their own instruments and playing through potential setlists,” she explained while twirling her pen in her right hand. “Testsuro-kun, you’re our only new violin which means everyone can help you learn—take today to be comfortable with an instrument in your hands and observe your classmates!” she finished, walking away.

“I’m Sato Daisuke, a second year,” Daisuke reintroduced, emphasizing his year.

“Kuroo Tetsuro, third year,” he said smugly.

“Ah—okay,” Daisuke said standing straighter, “Kuroo-san, follow me,” turning towards the back of the room.

Chuckling Kuroo said, “Just Kuroo’s fine—you’re technically my senior here since I’ve never played violin before.”

Stuttering a bit and covering it with a cough, Daisuke nodded once. He stood in front of a wall of neatly labelled cubbies and pulling a black rectangular case out, he handed it to Kuroo. Explaining the rules of the rental and making him sign a form, Daisuke taught Kuroo how to properly tighten the bow, use rosin, clean the instrument, and taught him simple exercises to practice posture.

Fiddling a bit with the shoulder rest as Daisuke excused himself for a second, Kuroo ran through the exercises to get himself acquainted with the feel of the violin under his chin and a bow in his right hand. It was uncomfortable, he noted. His left shoulder wanted to scrunch up towards his face, his left wrist wanted to press towards the neck of the violin, and he couldn’t comfortably hold his bow. For the first time in a while, Kuroo felt out of his element—he felt as though his body couldn’t do what he wanted it to do. He felt awkward and unsure and the back of his neck prickled as he caught other students look his way.

Finally, Daisuke came back. Holding a thin blue book in his hand he explained, “This’ll teach you the basics of reading music. The thickest string on the left is G, followed by D, A, and E. Notes go in order of A through G and it just repeats.” Making sure Kuroo was following along, he continued. “So, If we start on the G string and put a finger down,” he moved over to place Kuroo’s index finger on the first tape, “what note is this?”

“A?”

“Yup, great. Follow the tapes for where you should put your fingers, I taught you how to tune and you need to study and practice every night so you’ll be able to partially follow along in class.”

Head a little dizzy with the new information but also proud to have understood some of the basics, Kuroo nodded. Daisuke took Kuroo to the back of the group, explained to a student who Kuroo was, then took his place towards the front.

Kuroo’s stand partner was a first year—Hayato. He’d been doing orchestra since middle school, didn’t take private lessons like many of the other students, but enjoyed orchestra enough to continue in high school as a hobby. Although a little awkward, Hayato was patient when giving Kuroo a more detailed explanation of reading music, since six years of piano lessons had completely left him, and set him up with basic exercises.

“You need to make sure your left wrist is down and relaxed,” Hayato said, tapping a pencil to Kuroo’s inner wrist. “Also, your bow grip is atrocious, but that’s one of the hardest things for a beginner.” He showed Kuroo how the bow was supposed to be held, stressing how it should look relaxed and curved.

Making small adjustments while Kuroo shakily moved the bow across the strings, Hayato said, “Sensei will probably have you come during study hall to practice, but you need to practice at home too or Sato-san and the concertmaster will probably chew you out.”

Bow stuttering crookedly across the strings, making Sato tut at him, Kuroo paused. “The concertmaster,” he asked disbelievingly. “What is that?” imagining some despotic conductor in long tuxedo trails and a clipboard.

Laughing at his confusion, Hayato explained. “The concertmaster is the first chair violinist. In orchestra they’re like the leader of the group. They tune the group, come out second to last before the conductor during concerts, make decisions on bowings, and everyone kinda follows their lead.”

Nodding to himself Kuroo said, “Okay, so he’s like,” he trailed off, “the captain of the team?”

“Exactly. Except she’s a third year like you and pretty well known in the music scene in our area, y’know.”

Frowning at his assumption he admitted, “Ah, okay so,” he trailed off, “concertmistress? I play volleyball, I don’t really know music.”

Hayato laughed and Kuroo raised a brow. “I mean obviously—you don’t really look like a violinist.”

Affronted Kuroo said, “Oi, what does that mean?”

“Kuroo-san, you’re like, huge,” Hayato squeaked out.

Trying not to preen, Kuroo waved his hand and turned his head towards the front of the class.

Jouda-sensei stood on her podium and tapped her baton on the raised stand in front of her. “Hi everyone, good to see all of you again. We have a few new faces so make sure to welcome them and help them out. I’m super excited for our potential set list this year, but before I pass out the folders, let’s a hear a few words from our concertmistress!”

With scattered applause and stomping, a girl rose to the podium as Jouda-sensei stepped off. Holding her violin and bow in her left hand she beamed at the class. Briefly introducing herself and sharing her excitement for the year to make music with everyone, Jouda-sensei interrupted her return to her seat.

“For the first rehearsal, how about you formally tune us?” Jouda-sensei offered.

“Aw, no it’s okay—some people are beginners and all the section leaders already took care of it right?”

Next to her, her stand partner threw an eraser at the podium making her scowl. “Just do it, her stand partner complained,” drawing laughter from the class.

Giving her partner the finger, hidden from their sensei’s view, she laughed good naturedly and straightened her shoulders.

All of a sudden, Kuroo noted, the atmosphere in the room changed. Students were no longer whispering to each other, playing random tunes, or shuffling in their seats. Everyone’s eyes were on her at the podium. She offered an open palm and nodded towards the back of the room. A single note penetrated the silence.

She swept her hand towards the back and Kuroo was suddenly flooded with the sound of the deep and rich brass section. After a few seconds, she repeated the process and the woodwind instruments close to Kuroo in the back began to tune.

Hayato leaned towards Kuroo. “Before concerts and rehearsals everyone should’ve tuned beforehand. This more for last minute checks and also a show for the audience. The order and how many sections tune at once is usually decided between the concertmaster and the conductor—Kuroo-san, we’ll tune last.”

Nodding in appreciation, Kuroo turned his attention back to the podium. The woodwinds trailed off and after a beat of silence, she nodded once again for the tuning note to be played and she waved her hand towards the cellos and basses at her right. The gravelly resonance of the strings filled Kuroo with a strange sense of full contentment and marveled at the size of the basses, whose strings seemed to be quadruple the thickness of his own.

Finally, the concertmaster gave one last nod and tucked her violin under her chin. Hearing the drone of the pitch, everyone around Kuroo began to tune. Unsure of what to do, he stumbled to mimic Hayato who was adjusting his tuners. Since Sato Daisuke already tuned his instrument, Kuroo just played open strings and waited for the rest of his section to stop. Glancing to his left at Kuroo’s right hand, Hayato whispered sharply, “Keep your pinky curved!”

After tuning, folders were passed out to each student, filed with sheet music. Hayato organized the sheets on their stand.

“Since you’re on the inside—the left hand side of the stand—your job is to turn my pages,” he explained. “It’ll be good practice to see if you can follow along even if you can’t read, but no worries if you want to spend today just watching and listening.”

Thanking Hayato and teasing when he fumbled in embarrassment, Kuroo spent the rest of class in awe. Although the group was seeing the pieces for the first time, he couldn’t help the goosebumps on his arms as the orchestra came together. Even when he heard Hayato miss a note, noticed when the conductor would glare at a section, or when they had to stop and regroup, listening to individual instruments try come together as one left Kuroo wanting to be a part of it. From the inside, he watched as bows moved in unison and fingers slid up and down the necks of stringed instruments. He was hyper aware of the instruments behind him providing support to the main melody, and leaned towards them to catch their individual parts.

He set his gaze towards the front of the room and watched the concertmaster. Powerful yet graceful, her bow made sure movements across the strings, fingers moving quickly and accurately. Her body swayed with the music and her face, unlike Hayato’s, was not one of extreme concentration. She seemed focused as she watched the conductor and indicated entrances to her section through her body, but despite the multi-tasking, it was clear to Kuroo that she was having fun.

She trusted her section to follow along, for her stand partner to flip the pages at the right times, and for the rest of the orchestra to do their parts. When Jouda-sensei made the class begin again, she would lean towards her stand partner and share whispered giggles and Kuroo caught the glint of shiny pink polish and traced the way her hair fell across her shoulders.

He knew what being a captain was like—he had been captain since he was voted in at the end of his second year and he wondered how long she’d been playing for, how much she practices, and how she encourages her section. He wondered what the differences and similarities were between leading a team and an orchestra were—the differences and similarities between them, even.

At the end of class Kuroo promised to himself to practice a little every day to be able to play with the group and hold his own. For the rest of the school day, he idly hummed the melodies they had played in class and replayed images of bows and hands moving in unison.

In the club room before practice, Kuroo came in with his violin case. Greeting his teammates, he started to change.

Loosening his tie and pulling his sweater over his head, Kuroo heard Lev ask about his case. Swapping his school top for his practice one, Kenma responded.

“Kuroo’s taking orchestra for his arts credit.”

“Why would you take a band credit, you should’ve taken sculpture like I did,” Yamamoto exclaimed proudly.

“Your sculptures were ugly,” Kenma said evenly, over the sounds of his video game.

Before Yamamoto could respond, Fukunaga menacingly shook his water bottle at the two of them causing Kenma to turn his back and hunch defensively over his game.

Narrowing his eyes at Kenma, Yamamoto turned his attention back to Kuroo who was idly flipping through the practice book Daisuke had given him.

“Yeah Kuroo, band classes are so much work when you’ve gotta learn the instrument, why’d you enroll?”

Before Kuroo could respond Yaku jumped to Yamamoto’s side and jabbed him. “Band and orchestra are two different things you uncultured swine!”

Doubled over and grasping his stomach, Yamamoto glared tearfully at his senior, then directed his glare towards Lev who was slapping his knee in laughter.

“Kuroo-san,” Lev shouted, “can you play us something?” he asked excitedly.

Gaining the interest of the rest of the team, everyone crowded around Kuroo, nodding in unison. He rubbed the back of his head in uncertainty.

“I’ve literally just learned how to play. I don’t know if you’d really want me to.”

“We really want you to!” Lev said, encouraging him to open his case.

Begrudgingly, Kuroo went to his violin and briefly explained how to setup and tune, to the amazement of some of his teammates. Even Kenma peered curiously over his video game in the corner. He tucked the instrument under his chin, carefully held his bow and placed the hair on the A string and played. Kuroo focused intently on ensuring that his bow grip was loose, but secure, that his pinky and thumb were curved and that his bow was making straight lines across the string.

As Kuroo looked over to his teammates, he noticed Yaku’s shoulders starting to shake while he pointed a finger at him.

“I-Is that the best you can do?” Yaku nearly screamed, howling in laughter. “You’re not even moving your f-fingers!”

To Kuroo’s embarrassment, the rest of the team tried desperately to hold in their laughter and Lev deadpanned, “That kinda sucked, senpai.”

Stuttering out an indignant scoff, Kuroo’s brow furrowed, “I told you I just learned this today! A-and posture is important you heathens!” shaking his bow at Lev and Yaku.

#kuroo tetsuro #kuroo tetsuro drabble #kuroo tetsuro oneshot #kuroo tetsuro x you #kuroo tetsuro x reader #kuroo tetsurou #kuroo tetsuro scenarios #kuroo x reader #kuroo x you #haikyu x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyu x you #haikyu x y/n #haikyuu x you #haikyuu x y/n #nekoma high #nekoma haikyuu #kuroo tetsuro fanfiction #kuroo x y/n

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bitchapalooza · 3 years

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Hetalia actor AU(yes, inspired by the BNHA actor AU specifically)

• Alfred and Matthew are irl twins that got their start in acting as children. They both at first tried out for the roles of Northern and Southern Italy but they were seen to be better fits for the North American brothers. That and their Italian accents were not the best. No one cared they have an Italian uncle. Literally no one asked them. In fact their bad accents prompted the casting list to go more international faster than it already was. They both look exactly the same without the addition of the cowlick or ahoge so it's pretty good Matthew grew his hair out for this role. Otherwise they'd constantly have to correct everyone like they used to in the other shows they worked on.

• Arthur thought he was auditioning for the newest James Bond movie but turns out his agent tricked him. Arthur ended up liking it however and stayed. He managed to drag his son Peter in to audition for the role of Sealand, as Peter wanted to get into acting in something bigger than school plays. His character may be annoyed by his son's character but irl you can catch Arthur being a loving and caring father. Peter however is embarrassed to be around him, just as many kids are to their parents. Arthur is much more relaxed than the character he plays. And Peter isn't as annoying as Sealand is. He's actually always on his phone or doing homework when not working.

• Francis did not know a lick of English when he auditioned. He went into this blind. And yet he got the part after staying up 3 nights in a row beforehand listening to the Google translated script(from English to French and back) to memorize it that way. Presently he may be on par with a 10 year old's basic knowledge of English but that doesn't stop him from frequently speaking only French on set when no one else but Yao and half the writing staff understand him. He even only does his interviews in French because WHY put effort into a second language??? Y'all he's the epitome of lazy.

• Ivan is the prankster on set. He teams up with Kiku, Basch, Peter, Alfred, and Mathias very frequently to prank everyone else in the cast. He also purposefully messes up his lines when his character is being creepy. He'll say the weirdest shit while in the most intense scenes. During the magical pipe of pain scene, Ivan caused almost 20 retakes because he kept making bad innuendos causing everyone to lose their shit. He's the exact opposite of his character.

• Roderich really is a former pianist and former child actor coming back to acting because gosh he missed it. He's actually SUPER irresponsible with his money despite the character he plays. The first paycheck from the show he spent on a bulk of 200 rubber ducks just so he could set them up in his bedroom on his and his wife's 3rd anniversary. All for a chuckle. And to get a use out of them. That was an impulse buy. And he does not regret it. The scenes where Austria is playing the piano really is Roderich playing it, and he asks there to be almost no sound editing to those takes whatsoever. He's extremely forgetful so the staff has resorted to sticky noting his lines into the scene then green screening it out later. He's a good actor but someone help this man's poor memory.

• Timo basically already was Finland before ever auditioning. His friends already called him the dad of their group to begin with. He's a sweet guy and he bakes cookies and other sweets the night before just to bring them in to the set the next morning for not just the cast but the entire film crew too; he has two ovens for this and really knows how to speed bake. He just wants to make sure everyone's morning is as good as his own is. He's just a darling. Everyone is glad Berwald recommended Timo for the part of Finland and even happier that he got the role.

• Gilbert is a brunette with brown eyes irl so no one recognizes him without the white wig or red contacts. Fans meet him and are like "You remind me of that Prussia guy from Hetalia! You'd make a great cosplay of him!" and he just accepts it every time by this point. Every convention he goes to, every interview he does he is in costume. At least he isn't constantly bombarded by fans like Ludwig or Ivan are.

• Feliciano is a very mature and professional guy despite the bubbly and goofy character he plays. Feliciano does have his relaxed and fun moments though, learning to let go from his time acting as North Italy. He's a really pleasant guy to be friends with but it can be a little tough to break through his shell. He's kind of shy, different from North Italy's friendly nature.

• Lovino is a nice guy. He's kind but not super kind, but also not an asshole. He does a lot a Instagram live streams after episode recordings, mostly of him hanging out with the other actors. He and Feliciano get along well but Lovino tends to hang around Ludwig more because he feels so bad for how he screams at him and insults him on set, even though its purely for the show. He apologizes immediately after filming is finished.

• Ludwig is pretty orderly but he isn't exactly mature. He's the one to recite bad jokes and puns to everyone, his favorites being dad jokes. No one likes this. At all. He's a fun loving guy that everyone can get along with. He has fun acting. He's very grateful Gilbert pointed him in the direction of the auditions.

• Kiku is glad his very first acting gig will probably be one of his most successful and popular. He's freshly graduated from college and completely chaotic. He's got a degree in business he's never going to use. He collects weird Japanese products as well as gifting them to his coworkers every Christmas without fail. He once walked into Ivan's trailer and tossed a whole bag of hard boiled eggs at him and ran off. The eggs all had individual faces drawn onto them. Ivan still does not know why he did this and he's honestly too afraid to ask at this point.

• The actor for Chibitalia also plays chibi Romano! His name is Emilio and he's Lovino's nephew. Emilio is a sweetie that pretty much stole everyone's heart. He loves working on the show, especially when he gets to curse and not get in trouble for it.

• Holy Roman Empire's actor was originally a kid who had no prior experience in acting neither had he really been near a camera before. He ended up freezing up his first day. He was recasted by Ludwig's son Otto, especially since Otto had been around a film set dozens of times before. The dad jokes really escalated once Otto was brought on set....

This is all I'm going to do for now without the post getting too long. Plus I'm tired and have a headache. But I really wanted to get this out lol I spent 3 hours figuring this all out with a really bad glaucoma headache please at least appreciate this for my eyes' sake lmao

#hetalia #hetalia au #hetalia actor au #not gonna tag em all

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mikauzoran · 3 years

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Lukadrien: Zebras Can’t Change Their Stripes: Chapter Two

Read it on AO3: Zebras Can’t Change Their Stripes: Chapter Two

Luka looked different.

Not exactly in a bad way. Sure, his appearance was a little disheveled, and he didn’t look like he’d been sleeping or eating well lately, but Josie had said that he was going through a breakup, so that made sense. He didn’t look like he was a perpetual wreck…just that he was having a hard time at the moment.

He was slightly more muscular than Adrien remembered and maybe a little taller too. His hair was jet black now and kind of long on top with an undercut just in back. He had more ear piercings, and Adrien was sure he’d probably picked up another tattoo or two in the past four years.

The eyes were the same cool, relaxing blue, though, and his face was relatively unchanged save for a few lines here and there that either hadn’t existed or hadn’t been as noticeable before.

Adrien would recognize Luka’s face anywhere, though. You didn’t just forget the face of the person who made you rethink your sexuality.

“Luka?” he whispered, fear and dread and excitement lighting up every nerve in his body.

He was screwed. Luka knew who he was. Luka could tell the rest of the band before Adrien was ready.

He’d just had an epiphany about fixing his life and reconnecting with old friends and reaching out for help, but he wasn’t actually prepared to do anything about those things yet. This was too soon. He couldn’t—

“—Whoa there,” Luka interrupted Adrien’s runaway train of thought, holding up his hands in a placating gesture. “I come in peace, I swear. I didn’t want to make a scene back there because I figured, if you were using a pseudonym, you wouldn’t want me to out you, but I wanted to talk to you.”

Adrien’s shoulders started to hunch up defensively, expecting the worst.

His father had hurt Luka and Luka’s family, and while it had never occurred to Adrien that Luka might take out his grievances on Adrien, it certainly wasn’t outside the realm of possibility. Adrien had seen perfectly nice people turn into ogres as soon as they found out Adrien’s true identity.

“How are you doing?” Luka asked, voice overflowing with concern as he took in Adrien’s appearance at close range, scrutinizing.

Adrien blinked in surprise because that was one of the last things he had expected to come out of Luka’s mouth.

“I’m…okay,” he answered disjointedly, still trying to get his thoughts together. “Why are you asking me that?”

Now it was Luka’s turn to blink at Adrien incredulously.

“I mean…I haven’t seen you in four years, and I’ve been worried sick,” he scoffed, hand going to his hip. “Adrien, you disappeared on us. No one got to talk to you and make sure you were okay before you left for London. You didn’t reply to any of our texts or emails. You didn’t pick up your phone, and then we found out from your cousin that you’d run away and no one knew where you were.”

Adrien averted his gaze, staring down at the sidewalk. He’d always felt guilty for disappearing like that, but…he just couldn’t deal with anyone at that point. Only now was he beginning to feel like he might be ready, but he still wasn’t completely sure.

“Of course I want to know how you’re doing,” Luka continued in exasperation. “I’ve spent the past four years scared that you were dead or-or worse. I care about you.”

Adrien’s eyes snapped back up to Luka’s to see the earnestness there.

It just about knocked him flat.

“You do?” he whispered, wanting to believe it.

“Oh my God, Adrien,” Luka hissed, stepping in and roughly pulling Adrien into a tight hug. “Yes. I love you. You’re a precious friend. A lot of people are worried sick and want to know you’re okay.”

“Oh,” Adrien breathed, letting himself sink into Luka’s arms. “I didn’t realize… I wasn’t thinking about…”

“It’s okay,” Luka whispered, giving Adrien’s hair a comforting nuzzle. “The important thing is that you’re safe. I’m just so glad that you’re safe.”

Tentatively, Adrien let his arms wrap around Luka, returning the hug.

The relief he experienced then was almost overwhelming. The warmth of another person, the protective shelter of Luka’s arms…it felt so good.

It had been so long since the last time Adrien had been able to relax his guard like that.

Luka pulled back with a warm, fond smile. “Want to get lunch together and catch up? Or did you have something else you needed to do?”

Adrien hesitated, thinking of his dwindling funds. He didn’t have money for food and lodgings.

He bit his lip. “I actually already ate before the audition, but I could just get a coffee or something. I’d like to talk.”

“Awesome,” Luka responded with a dazzling grin, feeling better than he had since The Breakup.

“You’re sure you don’t want to get a pastry or something?” Luka arched an eyebrow when Adrien really did just order an expresso. “I seem to remember you having quite the sweet tooth.”

Adrien forced a smile.

In truth, he’d kill for a hot chocolate and a pain au chocolat or something. He’d even settle for a fresh croissant, but he had to budget if he wanted to make it to his first payday with the band.

“I’m good, really,” he insisted.

Luka easily shrugged the matter off, far more interested in getting Adrien’s story out of him. “So where have you been these past four years?”

Adrien fingered his waterglass nervously as he tried to decide what to share. “I’ve been around,” he informed vaguely. “After I left London, I headed to Marseille…Nice, Lyon…Strasbourg. I’ve just been travelling around, seeing the country.”

“Huh,” Luka hummed. “That sounds nice, actually. I’m glad you’re finally getting to travel. I know you didn’t get out much before.”

Adrien nodded, keeping his polite smile in place.

Part of him felt dishonest for purposely misleading Luka into thinking he’d just been off gallivanting, but he wasn’t quite ready yet to confess how destitute he was.

“I just needed some time on my own,” he explained. “I’m kind of…you know…finding myself, I guess?”

Luka nodded. “So how long are you back in Paris, do you think? Have you been back long?”

Adrien shook his head. “I just got into town two days ago. I’m hoping to stay long-term, but I don’t really know yet.”

“What do you do for work?” Luka inquired, gazing at Adrien with interest as he leaned his elbows on the table. “You were getting your degree in Business, weren’t you?”

Adrien looked away. “Uh…I do this and that. I move around a lot, so having a stable job for more than a few months hasn’t really been a thing. I…”

He chewed on his lip, debating. “…I actually didn’t get to finish school. I was right in the middle of my degree program when my father was arrested, and things just…” He shook his head. “My world got a little upended, and I never made it back to school.”

He couldn’t afford it. The Agreste fortune was gone, and the money that Gabriel had said he’d been putting in trust as payment for Adrien’s work as a model for the company had never existed. There had been no accounts in his name, only his father’s, and that all got sapped up with the rest of the assets.

“I’m sorry,” Luka responded with a worried frown. “Do you think that’s something you’ll do now that you’re planning on being in one place for a while?”

“I’d like to go back to school,” Adrien answered truthfully. “Maybe someday…. But tell me about you. How are you? How’s your family? What are you up to nowadays?” he asked in rapid-fire succession, anxious to get the focus off of himself.

More than that, though, he really wanted to know what Luka had been doing the past four years. He wanted to catch up with his friend and get back in the loop so that he could start feeling like a part of Luka’s life again.

Long ago, they’d been thick as thieves, and Adrien craved that kind of intimacy. He would love to be close to someone again.

He listened intently as Luka told him about the bands he’d been in, about picking up violin and piano, his reconciliation with his biological father.

“At first I was thinking I didn’t want anything to do with him out of principle,” Luka explained. “I mean, he didn’t bother acknowledging me for twenty-three years; why should I acknowledge him? But then I started thinking, ‘Well, why shouldn’t I take his money? Don’t Maman and Juleka and I deserve it? It’s not just for me. He owes us this’.”

Adrien nodded in agreement. “Absentee parents are the worst. It’s not like money is enough to make up for the gaping hole in your life where he was supposed to be, so I don’t see a problem with you taking as much as he’ll give you. You’re not sacrificing your principles; you’re just taking a small fraction of what he owes you.”

“Yeah, I felt better when I started thinking about it like that too,” Luka confessed. “…Though…I’ve actually been having dinner with him and his family occasionally.”

Adrien’s eyes widened. “Oh? And…how is that going?”

A sheepish smile started to stretch across Luka’s lips. “Pretty well? I mean, it’s really surreal, but…” He shrugged. “Penny is awesome. She’s been invaluable as far as giving advice for my own career and making introductions and stuff like that. Their kids are also really cute. I kind of love them.”

Luka pulled out his phone and quickly found a picture of his half-sisters. “Michelle and Eleanor.” He pointed to the five- and three-year-old girls with cappuccino skin and big, expressive brown eyes. “Named after the Beatles songs, of course.”

“Aww,” Adrien cooed. “They’re adorable.”

“He’s actually a really good dad to them,” Luka admitted, even though it pained him. “That helped me forgive him somewhat. It makes me think that, maybe, if he had known about me, maybe he would have been a good dad to me too.”

Adrien smiled sympathetically and nodded, handing back the phone. “I’ve only interacted with him a couple of times, but he doesn’t seem like a bad, malicious person. Careless and distractable maybe, but…not bad, so…maybe you’re right.”

“But we’ll never know,” Luka sighed, shrugging again as he put away his phone. “I guess all I can do is see what he does going forward. Maman and Juleka were always enough family for me. It sucked sometimes not having a dad in my life, but I never felt like I needed him to complete me or anything. I don’t need him now either, but…it’s nice to be able to reach out and talk to him if I feel like it. I like that it’s on my terms.”

“I’m really happy for you,” Adrien replied with a sincere smile.

His own life and relationship with his father were rubbish, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t happy for Luka. He wanted good things for Luka. Luka was a wonderful person, and he deserved happiness in his life.

“Thanks.” Luka returned the smile, thinking about how lucky he was to have things that Adrien never would. “Seriously. That really means a lot.”

Adrien shrugged and was about to say something when the food arrived, completely distracting him.

Catching sight of the ravenous look on Adrien’s face, Luka arched an eyebrow. “Are you sure you don’t want to order something?”

Adrien quickly snapped his poker face back into place. “No. I’m good. I just ate.”

He smiled innocently and took a sip of his espresso.

Adrien’s stomach let out a loud roar of protest.

Luka frowned.

Blushing, Adrien drained his water glass, hoping that giving his stomach something at least would make it shut up.

Luka pursed his lips. “…I think your stomach is ready to be fed again.”

“I’m really not hungry,” Adrien mumbled into his glass.

He could feel his ears starting to heat up in shame.

“…Are you sure? Because I don’t actually think I can eat all of this croque madame on my own,” Luka tried an alternative route, beginning to suspect the problem. “If you could split it with me so that it doesn’t go to waste, that would be awesome.”

Adrien looked up at Luka suspiciously. “You’re not going to eat all of it?”

Luka shook his head, pushing the plate across the table.

“Well, if you’re sure.” Adrien only hesitated a moment before taking half of the admittedly large sandwich.

It took an enormous amount of self-control not to scarf it down like a starving wolf because that was exactly what Adrien felt like.

Luka picked up his own half of the sandwich and chewed at it as he watched Adrien thoughtfully.

He waited until Adrien had finished to say anything. “…When was the last time you actually had a decent meal?”

Adrien blinked at Luka in surprised confusion. “I…I just ate earlier.”

Luka shook his head. “Adrien, you’re even thinner now than when you were a model. What’s going on? Why aren’t you eating?”

“I am eating,” Adrien argued fruitlessly, unwilling to drop pretenses and let Luka see what shambles his life was in.

Luka gave Adrien a look that told him that Luka could see right through him. “You’re a vegetarian. For the six years I knew you, whenever you had any say about what you ate, you always ate vegetarian because your mother traumatized you when you were little. Yes, you would eat chicken or pork or whatever if it was put in front of you, but you never enjoyed it, and you always picked at it. I just watched you inhale a ham sandwich like it was the most delicious thing you had had all month. Now, what’s going on?”

The hair rose on the back of Adrien’s neck, and his shoulders scrunched up to his ears.

Tears began to sting back behind his eyes as he realized he’d been tricked.

Still, he didn’t have it in him to admit defeat. He couldn’t stand to have Luka look down on him. That was why he’d never wanted to turn to anyone from his old life for help. He couldn’t bear for them to know how bad it really was and think less of him for it.

Everything else had been taken away from him; he couldn’t give up his dignity too.

“Nothing is going on,” he insisted, voice trembling.

Luka took a deep breath and reached across the table, resting his hand on top of Adrien’s. “Perfect Fifth?” he pleaded gently, using a nickname Adrien hadn’t heard in years and hadn’t realized until that moment how much he’d yearned for it.

“Talk to me. Please,” Luka entreated, eyes soft and inviting. “I’m really worried about you.”

The tears started to fall as Adrien’s resolve shattered completely. He couldn’t do this anymore. He needed help. He needed to feel safe. He needed Luka to wrap him up in another hug and make things feel okay again.

“I don’t have any money,” Adrien hiccupped. “Like…none.”

It started as a trickle, but once Adrien got going, the dam burst, and he found himself confessing everything: “Father never put money in an account for me like he said he would. After he was arrested, they froze all of our assets, and then everything got eaten up in the litigation. There’s nothing left. I couldn’t afford to pay for university, and my aunt was really resentful of me staying with her, and it hurt too much anyway because she and Maman are twins. Whenever she’d say passive-aggressive things with my mother’s face, it really messed with my head, so I stole some money from her and left, but it’s really hard to find a job where you don’t have to fill out paperwork, and no one wants to hire Adrien Agreste,” he lamented bitterly, “so I’ve been washing dishes and cleaning hotel rooms and working in laundry rooms and kitchens and-and I’ve thought about becoming a sex worker because then maybe I could earn some decent money and not have to eat out of dumpsters or sleep on the street ever again, but I’m asexual, and I just-I just can’t,” Adrien choked.

Luka sat there stunned for a moment, trying to process everything Adrien had said. He quickly decided that processing fully would have to wait until later because Adrien needed Luka to jump in and do something four years ago, so there really wasn’t time to spare.

“Shhh,” Luka cooed, taking both of Adrien’s hands in his and rubbing his thumbs back and forth against Adrien’s skin soothingly. “It’s okay. It’s going to be okay, so just take some deep breaths, all right?”

Adrien nodded slowly, making an effort to compose himself.

“Where are you staying right now?” Luka inquired pragmatically.

“A hostel,” Adrien replied. “In Pigalle. It’s just a couple blocks from the Moulin Rouge.”

“How long do you think you can afford to stay there and pay for meals?” Luka pressed.

Adrien looked away. “It’s one or the other. I can stay there one more night and get some snacks to tide me over the rest of the week, or I can eat regular meals and sleep rough.”

“Okay. No,” Luka decided. “You’re coming home with me.”

Adrien blinked at him. “Sorry…. What?”

“My apartment has an extra bedroom. I used to have a roommate, but she moved back to Nice to help out with her sick grandma five or six months ago, and she’s not coming back,” Luka quickly explained. “You’re coming to live with me until you’re back up on your feet and feel like getting your own place.”

Adrien pulled his hands back away from Luka, frowning and shaking his head. “I don’t want your pity.”

Luka clicked his tongue, taking one of Adrien’s hands back forcefully. “This isn’t pity. This is what friendship looks like…. I have a feeling it’s been a while since you’ve experienced it, so I’m reminding you of how it works. We’re friends; therefore, I care about what happens to you and want to make sure you’re okay. I have enough crap going on in my own life without having to worry about you sleeping in alleys and passing out from hunger. Do me a favour and make my life less stressful. Come live with me so I know for sure that you’re not lying dead in a gutter somewhere. These past four years have been really hard, Adrien.”

Adrien’s jaw went slack, and his mouth dropped open. “…You actually care about me, don’t you?”

Luka nodded, giving a tired smile. “Very much. So, what do you say?”

Adrien inhaled slowly, trying to piece together fragmented thoughts. “…If you really don’t mind. If I wouldn’t be in your way.”

“Adrien, you would be doing me a favour. I’m serious,” Luka insisted.

Adrien pursed his lips. “…Okay,” he finally agreed, still not certain this was a good idea but knowing that it would be better than continuing to try to go it on his own.

“Good.” Luka’s face brightened as he squeezed Adrien’s hand and then let go. “Thank you. Now, let me flag down a waiter and have him bring us another menu. I’m actually starving because I woke up at noon and haven’t eaten all day, and I have a feeling you could eat more too.”

Adrien frowned, not understanding. “But…I can’t afford…?”

Luka waved Adrien’s protests away. “Until further notice, your expenses are my concern. Order whatever you want.”

The furrows in Adrien’s brow deepened. “I couldn’t possibly—”

“—How long has it been since you had a hot chocolate? A crêpe with chocolate sauce and ice cream and whipped cream?” Luka tempted.

Adrien thought very hard for a moment, trying to decide if his principles and pride were worth more than the luxury of eating something just because it tasted good.

His stomach won out, and Adrien decided that maybe it would be okay to be kept by Luka. There were worse things in life.

“Okay,” Adrien agreed, making a big show of how reluctant he was to do so. “I think I see your point.”

Luka’s impish smirk turned affectionate. “Seriously. Get whatever you want, but don’t eat too much so that you make yourself sick. I’m not going to let you go hungry, okay? You’re always going to have food from now on. You’re safe.”

It had been a long time since Adrien had last felt safe. It was a huge relief to know that feeling again.

“Thanks,” he whispered weakly, tears threatening to overwhelm him yet again.

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ayuuria · 3 years

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Yashahime Translation: VV Magazine December 2020 Issue

Please do not repost this translation without my consent! This includes screenshots of any type and amount. If you wish to share this translation, simply link to this post.

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Interview with Matsumoto Sara

On VVM (VV Magazine) is voice actress, Matsumoto Sara, who plays the role of Higurashi Towa in the anime that started on October 3 on Yomiuri TV/Nippon TV channel, “Hanyō no Yashahime” (Every Saturday evening at 5:30pm~ *Some areas excluded)! What is the charm of this current work that depicts the efforts of the three daughters (Towa = voice: Matsumoto, Setsuna = voice: Komatsu Mikako, Moroha = voice: Tadokoro Azusa) of Sesshōmaru and Inuyasha, who appeared in Takahashi Rumiko sensei’s famous work “Inuyasha”? What do you keep in mind as you play a character who crosses over time and rampages left and right with the modern and feudal eras as her stage? What was your state of mind the moment you got specifically selected to play the role of Towa? We will be going behind-the-scenes of the new “Inuyasha world”!

Matsumoto: My name is Matsumoto Sara. Please treat me well today!

Ikeuchi: I am Ikeuchi Shinji of the Village Vanguard (abbreviated VV going forward) P strategic division. Please treat me well today.

VVM: This page is a specialty corner of this small magazine where we try to interview the person that the lucky staff members selected from the approximately 350 stores that VV maintains across the country, have said that they want to meet… This time, we specially had Ikeuchi-san from VV headquarters come as he is a big fan of not only the “Inuyasha” series of course, but Takahashi Rumiko-sensei as well.

Ikeuchi: I was part of the generation that read the “Inuyasha” manga in real time. Furthermore, I’m basically a big big big fan of Takahashi Rumiko-sensei so I took advantage of this opportunity and came today (laughs).

Matsumoto: I’m deeply honored!

Ikeuchi: No no, I am truly honored as well! Of course, I enjoy watching “Hanyō no Yashahime”, so just being able to meet a voice actor who takes part in a work that I love makes me happy.

Matsumoto: Thank you very much!

Ikeuchi: With that, regarding “Hanyō no Yashahime”. First, could you tell us what was going through your mind when it was decided that you would be cast in a work that continues the world of a big hit history work that makes someone from a generation like mine fired up?

Matsumoto: First I thought “No way!”. I was shaking. I had asked my manager over the phone in a corner of the train station building near the recording studio and I jumped for joy there (laughs).

Ikeuchi: It seems you auditioned, so you find out the results over the phone I see.

Matsumoto: I contact my manager via phone, email, and other different means, but so far good news tends to come over the phone (laughs). I knew that news had arrived regarding “Hanyō no Yashahime” and I was just in the middle of recording. I was always looking at an accent dictionary on my smartphone when recording. Then the screen suddenly flashed, and my manager’s name popped up.

Ikeuchi: You wanted to call back as soon as possible!

Matsumoto: That’s right. However, I really held myself back until after the recording was over. At this point, many days had passed since the audition so I thought “Could it be…” and when I called back at the station building near the studio, they said “You got the part!”

Ikeuchi: That’s going to be a memorable station building.

Matsumoto: Yes! (laughs)

VVM: Though you explained it on your blog, it seems you were not allowed to tell anyone that you passed until the day of the announcement?

Matsumoto: The only person I told was my older sister who I live with. I recorded a voice sample for the “Hanyō no Yashahime” audition during the self-quarantine period but it seems my sister overheard it. She said, “You seem to be saying Sesshōmaru this and Sesshōmaru that next door” (laughs). It seems she figured it out somewhat.

Ikeuchi: She probably thought “Maybe it’s an audition related to “Inuyasha”” (laughs)

Matsumoto: That’s how she found out. Hence, I told her “I passed that thing”. Then my sister rejoiced too.

VVM: The information was released on August 7th. This was the first lead role in your career so I’m sure your family was overjoyed.

Matsumoto: Everyone told me “Congrats! ~” “Do you best~”. I have a relative who’s an avid fan of Rumiko-sensei, so they lamented “Why didn’t you tell me~!” (laughs). When that person told me previously “It looks like they’re going to do a new “Inuyasha” story”, I had already auditioned but I couldn’t even tell them that. I really had to suppress the urge to tell them.

Ikeuchi: I’m also a big fan, so I totally understand how they felt (laughs).

VVM: Was there already social distancing at the audition?

Matsumoto: Yes. Normally you meet a lot of people at the audition site (studio), but I auditioned alone. That’s why I don’t know what type and how many people auditioned.

VVM: Thus, you passed with flying colors and apparently during the first recording, sound director, Nagura Yasushi, advised you that “You don’t need to make her so boyish” or something like that?

Matsumoto: Nagura-san gives me all sorts of advice, but he really places importance on Towa being a girl.

VVM: Was there a reason you were leaning more towards boyishness?

Matsumoto: When I submitted the voice sample, I only had the character design and setting document, so I didn’t know the character’s personality or details.

Ikeuchi: Do you fill in the missing information yourself?!

Matsumoto: Yes. I thought over a lot of things like the meaning of a girl in boyish pants… Or that it’s written Sesshōmaru’s daughter, but her surname is Higurashi… the result was a pretty strong toned voice sample. I was told “You passed” with that so I went into the recording with that and I was advised “You don’t need to make her boyish”.

Ikeuchi: What was the intent?

Matsumoto: She’s simply a 14-year-old middle school girl who grew up in the modern era so she’s not really conscious of things like her strength in fights or the blood relation to her parents. It’s possible that by going to the feudal era and getting involved with Setsuna and Moroha, she becomes conscious of that side of herself. That’s why I think they wanted me to be aware that at the beginning, Towa is just a normal girl.

Ikeuchi: I see. Now that you mention it, at the beginning, Towa was the only one who didn’t have any experience in battle. Even in episode 3, she didn’t land the finishing blow.

Matsumoto: She gets into fights but she’s never experienced defeating demons so when I think about things like “I wonder if by chance the part of her that’s Sesshōmaru’s daughter will awaken?”, “How is she going to change?”, or “I wonder if she’s going to become cool?”, I get excited. But there’s a part of me that’s a little unsure if I’ll be able to express that well (laughs).

VVM: Two months have passed since broadcasting began; what sort of girl do you think Towa is now?

Matsumoto: She looks cool as there are visuals that make her look like a boy, but I think she has a surprisingly absentminded side to her (laughs).

Ikeuchi: Although I can feel Towa’s kindness and strong heart from your voice, do you have any difficulty balancing that aspect?

Matsumoto: While I leave the character balancing to the directors, even if I think about my acting at home, I won’t know until I sync up with Komatsu Mikako, who plays Setsuna, and Tadokoro Azusa, who plays Moroha, so that’s where it gets difficult.

Ikeuchi: Like what sort of acting will the other person do?

Matsumoto: That’s right. There are times where the act I’ve prepared takes a 180-degree turn, so I put 120% into my real time acting for each situation.

Ikeuchi: Starting from Towa, Setsuna, and Moroha, each of the three different characters have voices that really suit them.

Matsumoto: The tone of voice for all three of them isn’t very high, so there’s an aspect where I feel they’re all similar. Especially when it comes to serious lines. However, when listening to it, this might be strange to say, but the “shade” of the voice is different like the mellowness, so while the voices overlap, I think there’s differentiation between the characters. (translator’s note: I’m not positive about this sentence).

Ikeuchi: Towa and Setsuna are twins, so I think that the part where they’re a little “similar” makes them realistic.

Matsumoto: Thank you. After episode 3, there are more scenes where Towa and Setsuna poke comments at Moroha, so sometimes sound director Nagura (Yasushi) tells us our voices sound the same. Apparently, there are times where they sound like one person, so I consulted with Setsuna’s voice actress, Komatsu Mikako, and changed my tone.

Ikeuchi: What sort of conversations do you have with Komatsu-san and Tadokoro-san?

Matsumoto: We talk about acting of course, but the three of us love “Inuyasha” and we were able to take part in “Hanyō no Yashahime”, so we fan talk like “I wonder if that demon from that time was…?” or “This was in “Inuyasha” too right?” (laughs).

Ikeuchi: What about personally? (translator’s note: Like in private life)

Matsumoto: The three of us made a group chat in LINE and we communicate there. For example, after I watched episode 1 prior to airing, I messaged them like “Did you see episode 1? It was amazing!!”. Then Komatsu-san responded “Ooo, I’ll watch I’ll watch!”. Tadokoro-san responded with “It would be a waste so I’m going to watch it on air!”.

Ikeuchi: To fans, that’s an incredibly extravagant group chat!

Matsumoto: It’s only been two months since episode 1 but the three of us are already close and we always hype on recording day.

Ikeuchi: Are the three of you in the recording booth together?

Matsumoto: The staff made distancing considerations so that the three of us could record together. There are a lot of scenes with the three of them, so as of now the three of us mostly record together.

VVM: Has Takahashi Rumiko-sensei ever come to watch the recording or said anything to you before?

Matsumoto: When recording first started, it was during a situation where meetings were being done remotely, so I didn’t have opportunities to meet not only Rumiko-sensei of course, but the other cast members as well. However, the other day when I went to the limited time “Inuyasha” Café that opened in Shibuya PARCO with director Satō Teruo and the other “Hanyō no Yashahime” cast members, Rumiko-sensei was there! I greeted her with “I am Matsumoto Sara, the role of Higurashi Towa!”

Ikeuchi: I’m genuinely envious of you! Since she doesn’t make very many appearances on TV and such, her existence is so far away that you wonder if she really exists…

Matsumoto: It was deeply emotional. Pardon me for saying this but I was also moved like “She’s really here…”. She was like a god to me when I was a child.

VVM: Did you have any sort of conversation with her?

Matsumoto: I heard that the cast and staff of the “Inuyasha” anime went on trips together every year since the broadcasting. I was moved that they still communicate with each other even now after 20 years since the broadcast. When I think about how I get to participate in a part of this work that sensei cherishes so much, my body tenses up.

Ikeuchi: Actually, to celebrate the broadcasting of “Hanyō no Yashahime”, VV is also releasing “Hanyō no Yashahime” merchandise in which the actual animator drew the illustration… (shows a rough sketch drawn in pencil)

Matsumoto: What?! That’s amazing!! The side profile (face) feels fresh.

Ikeuchi: This will be used as the cover for VVM and such.

Matsumoto: I’m so happy that you would publish it in such a magazine!

Ikeuchi: Not at all, the pleasure is ours!

Matsumoto: (while looking at the picture) It really is the world of “Hanyō no Yashahime”! I look forward to the colored VVM cover!

VVM: We would like to have you trace your memories back a little here, but we would like to ask you what made you become a voice actress and what kind of girl were you when you were Towa’s age (14)?

Matsumoto: When I was 14 years old huh… I was in an all-girls middle school for three years, so I never really interacted with boys the same grade as me. Hence, I grew up in a world of only girls. It was a classroom permeating with the characteristic emotions of girls going through adolescence (laughs) and I think I learned all sorts of things like how to interact with people. Until then, part of my personality was that I was somewhat too conscious of things and I casually learned to “let go”. (translator’s note: it literally said “抜く” in quotes which directly translates to “to remove or pull out”. It can also translate to fap… honestly this can go in any direction so interpret this as you will lmao)

Ikeuchi: In addition, during adolescence did you ever go to VV?

Matsumoto: I’m from Chiba prefecture and I always went to the nearby VV. I bought presents at VV when it was someone’s birthday.

Ikeuchi: Thank you very much!

Matsumoto: After becoming an adult, I went to buy a towel with a meat pattern on it. I bought a lot and went about giving them to people who’ve taken care of me (laughs).

Ikeuchi: The meat towel! It’s been popular ever since it went on sale (*unfortunately it is sold out at this time)

VVM: Around when did you start aiming to become a voice actress?

Matsumoto: In my elementary school graduation anthology, I wrote that “I want to become a voice actor”!

Both: Whaat, Wow!

Ikeuchi: So since elementary school?

Matsumoto: I was good at drawing when I was in elementary, so apparently my parents and relatives thought I would go towards the design route. That’s when my friend told me about the work of voice acting. They said they wanted to be a voice actor. Influenced by that, I said “I’ll become one too!” (laughs).

Ikeuchi: Have to thank your friend for that then.

Matsumoto: Yes. For me, I wanted to become a manga artist since I was good at drawing, but thanks my friend, I learned that there was a world where you act with your voice.

VVM: What did you want to be during middle school?

Matsumoto: Around the end of middle school, I suddenly thought “I want to do acting!”. I looked at the notices for acting schools that are usually on the back of magazines and I thought “I don’t really get it, but I have a feeling I can do this!” (laughs). Then I spoke with my parents.

Ikeuchi: What did your parents say?

Matsumoto: My parents made a living with music to begin with, so they understood. They were basically like “If that’s what you want to do, then why not give it a try?”. So they let me go to (acting) school and as I learned about acting and singing, I vaguely began to think “I want to work in this field in the future”.

Ikeuchi: From there, why did you choose voice acting?

Matsumoto: By the time I was a high schooler, I had done several auditions but for some reason my (acting school) teacher brought a lot of voice work. Then I suddenly remembered how in elementary school I made a big deal about “I want to be a voice actor!”. I thought of voice acting as one way of acting.

Ikeuchi: How did you ultimately decide what path to take?

Matsumoto: The moment I decided my path. Until then, I had thought about going to a 4-year university that was known for theatre, but my mother told me “Going to university doesn’t mean you’ll be able to do acting all the time?”. I realized that that wasn’t quite right. I want to think about acting all the time!

VVM: Indeed, a university would mean that you would have general study plus theatre study.

Matsumoto: It’s a no brainer but the only thing in my head was “Acting!” “Voice Actor!” so my thought process was genuinely “I want to do acting = a university with a theatre department!”. Ultimately, I went to the vocational school I graduated from.

VVM: Tokyo Announce Gakuin correct?

Matsumoto: Yes. By that time, I had decided “I’ll definitely become a voice actor!”. My parents also pushed me saying “If you’re going to go to that kind of a vocational school, you better become a pro!” (laughs).

Ikeuchi: That’s how your dream came true.

Matsumoto: Yes. I’m truly happy.

Ikeuchi: Your friend who told you about voice actors, your parents, your (acting school) teacher… through all those different encounters, you were guided down the path of a voice actor.

Matsumoto: I’m grateful of the fact that I have a job doing something I enjoy, but this time I got a big role in a work that’s connected to “Inuyasha” which I have loved for a long time. I’m truly thankful to the people I met.

VVM: Before you became a voice actress, which works of anime did you like and influenced you aside from “Inuyasha”?

Matsumoto: When I was little, I enjoyed “Card Captor Sakura” that was being broadcasted on NHK. There was also the one-hour time slot of “Inuyasha”, of course, and “Detective Conan” (Nippon TV). Then there was the one-hour time slot of “Hikaru no Go” and “Prince of Tennis” (TV Tokyo). “Chibi Maruko-chan” and “Sazae-san”. I loved “One Piece” and “Kochi Kame (Kochira Katsushika-ku Kameari Kōen-mae Hashutsujo)” (Fuji TV) so I watched them all the time. Not only do I remember the details of the works I watched back then but I still like them as well. Ever since I started making my own money, I’ve been repurchasing the original mangas.

VVM: On your blog, you recently wrote that you went to see “Princess Mononoke” at the theater, so do you like Ghibli works?

Matsumoto: I love Ghibli works and while I had a lot of VHS movies back home, “Princess Mononoke” was rescreened in June of this year so I went to watch it. I came to understand parts that I didn’t get as a child and once again thought it was an amazing work.

VVM: It was first shown in 1997. The content is a little difficult for a child to understand isn’t it?

Matsumoto: Now that I think about, this a little off tangent but at the time, my mother went to watch the movie and showed me the pamphlet. On the cover was the scene where the heroine, San, was sucking out blood from Moro’s wound.

VVM: It’s a well-known scene on posters and such.

Matsumoto: I thought the blood around San’s mouth was dirt. I remember thinking “We have to hurry and wipe the dirt off that girl’s mouth!” and scrubbing it.

Ikeuchi: (laughs) What happened to the dirt?

Matsumoto: I scrubbed too hard and tore a hole in it (laughs). I’m sorry, this was really off tangent!

VVM: (laughs) It would be great if you could make an appearance in a Ghibli work.

Matsumoto: Ever since I decided to become a voice actor, I always had the thought of “I want to be in Ghibli movie!” in my heart, so I definitely want to make that come true!

Ikeuchi: Speaking of movie theater, getting a little ahead but I want to see a movie edition of “Hanyō no Yashahime” just like “Inuyasha”!

Matsumoto: Absolutely! I also want to see Towa, Setsuna, and Moroha, in action on the big screen!! If we could see the parents and children fighting together at the movie theater… Aah~ just thinking about it makes the corner of my eyes heat up. Ever since I got the role of Towa, I’ve been hoping myself “Please let this happen!” (laughs).

Ikeuchi: We fans wish for that too!

VVM: Recently, you declared on your blog “I’ve become able to keep my word!” so please make this a reality!

Matsumoto: (laughs) Okay, we will do our best!

VVM: Alright then, lastly please tell us your goals for 2021!

Matsumoto: Let’s see, I don’t know if this will be possible until the world becomes more stable, but I would love to interact with “Hanyō no Yashahime” fans around the world. “Inuyasha” is popular worldwide so I get supportive messages in all sorts of languages on my twitter. Among them are people who comment using translation tools so I would like to meet everyone directly… even if meeting directly isn’t possible, I would like to talk to everyone in some way. This is what I think of “Hanyō no Yashahime”. I like this character. Anything is fine so I would love to hear them.

VVM: What about in your personal life?

Matsumoto: I want to move. I live with my older sister but because the state of the world has changed this past year and me becoming busy with “Hanyō no Yashahime”, we’ve had a few problems arise… The biggest problem is our bath times overlap. I say that but I do get along with my sister, so maybe living in the same apartment complex but in different units like the Asagaya Sisters (laughs). I’d like to talk with her and find the best possible solution!

Ikeuchi: Thank you for taking the time out of your busy schedule today!

Matsumoto: Thank you as well! I look forward to seeing both the “Hanyō no Yashahime” cover issue and article. Please support “Hanyō no Yashahime” next year as well!

#Yashahime #Hanyō no Yashahime #yashahime: princess half demon #translation

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wastelandcrown · 4 years

Text

logan lark’s adventures in trying to appease his parents

CHAPTER 3: i am actively trying to throw away my shot but it isn’t fucking working

Summary: Logan Lark is a fairly average high school student. By all means, he should be impressing his parents on all grounds. Except...he doesn’t exactly have a social life. So after his parents give him puppy dog eyes, he decides to join the local theatre's youth production. Good grief...His life is about to get weird isn’t it?

Warnings: Potential ooc behavior, Roman is a theatre brat to the highest degree (Sorry Roman stans), Remus being Remus, Anxiety/Panic Attacks, Talks of anxiety/medication, Throwing up (Not detailed)

Notes: This fic is based off an idea from @under-the-blue-moonlight. If you wanna be tagged in chapters, please dm me!! This chapter has a lot of anxiety and anxiety talk, so if you’re sensitive to that please be mindful!! Also lots of Logan and Virgil being friends, which I enjoyed writing! I also apologize for the delay, I ended up hating chapters 4-6 after I wrote them and have just rewritten them! Much more to come dw!

Pairings: Eventual Intrulogical, Eventual Rociet, Eventual One-Sided Logicality, Platonic Analogical, Platonic DRLAMP

Word Count: 2994

Tagslist: @under-the-blue-moonlight @why-should-i-tell-youu2

By almost all accounts, the next week got easier each day that passed. As Logan got acclimated to the chaos and worked on his notebook, things got much better. Part of this could be attributed to his time spent in the tech booth with Virgil.

Their goal for the week was to pick their audition song and perfect it so that by Friday they could perform and Thomas could quickly and efficiently cast the show. Their performance was in November, which was absolutely way too soon for Logan but Janus had assured him that it was more than enough time to put on an adequate performance. He took Virgil’s lifeline offer surprisingly often. Sitting in the booth and quietly practicing his audition worked out some of the stress in him. Sometimes Virgil would look up from his switch and make a comment on his performance or suggest something is changed, but aside from that, they were quietly comfortable with each other’s presence amongst all of the chaos that was the rest of the theatre.

When he left the booth, he was nearly swarmed by the others. It became routine. In the morning, he would spend time with Virgil, Patton, and their friend Emile. Oftentimes conversation was light, and the commentary was helpful and constructive. At lunch, he and Virgil would move to the tech booth and eat there together to get some peace and quiet in before inevitably being bombarded in the afternoon. After lunch, someone (usually Remus) would make their way up to the tech booth and drag them out to the boy’s dressing room. Virgil would sit in the corner and occasionally mess with one of the twins, or hiss at Janus in greeting, and Logan would be worked to the bone. He had decided to audition with Hamilton’s rap from My Shot; Doing the first and second halves, but cutting out the middle. Janus was extremely dedicated to being sure Logan’s performance would make an impression. Logan wanted the opposite, but he couldn’t argue with Janus’ dedication to making the entire show perfect.

Though, Roman’s attitude didn’t really change that much. For four days, he stayed at a zero. By Friday morning, he actually enjoyed his routine in part. Aside from Roman. Actually, Logan thinks if Roman was completely removed from the situation he may actually be happy with his current predicament. All this has just been practice though. When Friday afternoon rolls around and his audition is getting closer and closer, he tries to focus on the other performers. When it’s Roman’s turn, he pays special attention. Now he sees why Roman has an ego about these things. His audition was very good, and he felt natural on the stage. He would make a wonderful Hamilton, and he really looked the part. Despite him and Remus being technically identical, he looked worlds different. His clothes were ironed perfectly, and he had obviously dressed a bit historically today. His wavy hair was combed to let his face shine through in the stage light, and he was...dear lord, was he wearing eyeliner? Logan shook it from his mind and listened to him sing. Just like the days he’d seen him practice, he was very good. Obviously star material. If he didn’t get Hamilton, Logan would eat a page from his notebook. Figuratively, of course. That would be bad for his digestive system.

On either side of him are Patton and Virgil. He’s not really focusing on auditions until Roman’s, and after he phases back into his overthinking. He’s not nervous, he would never be nervous. Logically, there is no reason for him to be nervous. He’s just being vigilant. That’s it.

Virgil nudges him, “I can practically hear your thinking. You okay?”

“Oh-Uhm-Yes,” Logan says quietly, staring up at the performer on stage, “I’ll be fine.”

Virgil digs into his pocket and pulls out a little cube, he hands it to Logan with a kind expression, “See if that helps your anxiety.”

“I’m not anxious, there’s no reason for me to be anxious.” Logan scoffs, taking the little cube and running his thumb over the side with a small silver ball. The movement does make him feel a little better.

Virgil smirks, and flicks his shoulder, “You’re smarter than that, Logan. C’mon.”

He’s right, and Logan knows it. Anxious feelings can be totally irrational and are oftentimes a result of doing something new or stressful.

If he bombed this, it could be very stressful indeed. Janus would certainly not be happy after he put all that work into helping him. Roman would probably laugh, or make some comment about how he knew this would happen. Why did he even care anyway? He didn’t. He was simply falling victim to a very stupid bout of anxiety. When his name is called, he hands Virgil back his cube and makes his way up to the stage. He takes a deep breath, says he is auditioning for no one in particular, and then is cued in. He performs how he was coached, completely ignoring his anxiety and doing the best he possibly could. When he’s finished, Thomas looks very pleased as the crowd claps. Someone even wolf whistles and Logan is fairly certain it’s Remus. He sits quietly for the rest of the auditions, Virgil passes him back the cube.

The cast list won’t be out until Monday, so all the kids have the weekend to spend enjoying their summer. Well, if they don’t enjoy theatre. Logan managed to be very productive on his days off. His chart was filled and he indulged in sleeping in on Saturday. For two days he was not checkmated by social interaction at all, and it was a paradise. He managed to burn through four books from the local library, and was working his way through the fifth when his phone went off. He picked it up, not expecting a text from Virgil.

‘hey. logan i just saw the cast list and...god i really hope you dont get straight-up murdered.’

This had confused him heavily, and then he realized what Virgil might mean and he felt anxiety bubble up into his stomach.

‘How did you see the cast list? Isn’t that classified until tomorrow?’

‘joan and i are tight, they let me see it.’

That makes sense, Virgil seemed close to Joan and Thomas. Closer than he was, at least.

‘Are you willing to tell me who I am playing?’

‘you have to act shocked tomorrow if i do.’

He started to panic, and he looked up at the sky as if pleading with God to make this a dream or a prank.

‘Okay? Please tell me I didn’t get Hamilton.’

‘...sorry…’

His phone goes off a number of times after this, but he had to put it down. The lead? He was playing Hamilton? Alexander Hamilton, the leading man of the hit Broadway musical Hamilton?

The bubble of anxiety in his chest welled up and made him so nauseous that he couldn’t speak for fear of throwing up.

He didn’t expect this, he didn’t even want this. He had been so anxious at the audition, and now he was the lead? What was he going to do? He couldn’t perform half as well as Roman! Why did Thomas choose him in the first place!? The idea of standing on that stage performing with an ensemble made him queasy, but Alexander Hamilton had solos. Songs where he stood alone and faced a crowd of eyes just pouring into him, staring at him. Staring into his soul and seeing that he was just a fake. A hack. The lights would be so bright that he would be able to see into the audience and make out faces. Then, after the audience decided they hated him, he would disappoint Thomas who had picked him to be the lead despite first hearing the songs on Monday. He would be hated by the other performers, a wildly untalented newcomer coming in and taking Roman’s spot as lead-And oh god, how would Roman feel? Virgil was right, Roman was going to kill him. It would be righteous too, Roman deserved it. He’d stolen away the lead role in a show he was passionate about. Why couldn’t the production have been something like Shakespeare? Or, even better, there should have been no production at all!

He manages to stumble his way to his bathroom before he throws up, and he hopes his mother didn’t hear him. His hands are still shaky as he cleans himself up and tries not to think about the play. He still feels nauseous and panicked. He spends thirty minutes calming himself down. His heart rate and breathing had risen substantially, and when he had finally calmed he realized he had even been crying. Managing to pick up his phone again, he looked at Virgil’s messages.

‘logan?’

Then a minute later, ‘logan are you okay?’

A few minutes later, ‘shit are you panicking?’

And a minute ago ‘text me back asap’

It’s nice to know it was concerning behaviour to Virgil as well. As he thought about his strange spiral of thoughts and forced himself not to think about them all at once, he realized what had just happened. What would continue to happen.

‘I am okay. I believe I just had a panic attack. I haven’t had one in years.’

‘youve had one before?’ Ah, right. He hadn’t discussed this with Virgil. He hadn’t discussed a lot of his past with Virgil.

‘When I was in middle school I had joined debate team, but I realized that public speaking gave me terrible anxiety. I used to take medication to help, as the panic attacks happened semi-regularly. Eventually, I stopped doing debate, and I stopped taking the medication as I thought that would be the end of it. I suppose that was reckless thinking, as it may just be a form of performance anxiety overall.’

‘why then, pray tell, are you fucking doing theatre?’ Logan smiles a little at that, he wondered too.

‘I thought it would go away.’ Logan can almost see Virgil rolling his eyes at the comment, ‘I will speak to my mother and get more medication.’

Then he thinks of Virgil's behaviour and asks, ‘Also, and I apologize if I am overstepping, do you not have an anxiety disorder?’

‘yeah ive got regular anxiety and social anxiety. its a bunch of bullshit. why do you think im on tech?’ He feels a little bad for Virgil now, anxiety disorders are not very pleasant. He only has bouts of anxiety situationally, he can’t imagine it being near-constant.

‘I assumed it was because you enjoyed it. I will go and speak with my mother immediately.’

‘was being sarcastic L. anyway, tell me how it goes.’ Logan stops when he reads this. Tell him how it goes? That is an invitation to message him regularly, right? It sounds like it, or at least to tell him about a problem that has been irking him. That...that is a thing meant for friends right?

‘Are you sure? I was under the impression that our speaking was reserved for the theatre.’

‘i mean, it can be. but we can be out-of-theatre friends too. if you want. no pressure.’

This...this was a very welcome surprise. He supposed that despite his rebound into performance anxiety, making one of his first friends in a very long time could prove enjoyable. Scheduling conflicts aside.

‘I would enjoy that. I will update you.’

When he asks his mother about going back on his anxiety medication, she immediately jumps into a very motherly mode. She pulls him into a hug, and pets his hair, asking if anything is wrong, if he’s okay, the whole nine yards. As much as any teenager would hate to admit it, he loved his mother very dearly. This affection was...a lot, yes, but he could endure it for her. She was only showing her care. It was late afternoon, so the doctor was still open. Out of some insane luck, they managed to get an appointment that afternoon and he had his medication by later that night.

‘Virgil, I am happy to inform you that I am now in possession of medication for my anxiety again!’

‘that was super quick, congrats, im happy for you L.’

They talked for much longer, and Logan felt pleased by his gain in mood. Surprisingly, he was even able to talk about the books he had read with Virgil. If Sunday was on his chart, Logan is certain Virgil would get a twelve for today. Even if that broke his scale.

He made it a point to ask his father to stop and get coffee the next morning. Partially for him, yes. The medication was new to his system again and had made him slightly groggy when it started taking effect. Though it was partially to get a “thank you” gift for Virgil. He had asked what kind of coffee he liked the previous night when they had talked, and ordered his favourite. He offered to pay for his and Virgil’s coffee, but his father simply shrugged.

“You’ve had a hard week, I’ll buy it for you.”

He smiled softly, appreciating his father’s kind gesture more than he would ever say out loud. When they arrived he even gave him a hug, which was hard with two coffee cups but he made it work.

Before entering the auditorium he took a deep breath, and reminded himself that everything was going to work out. Which may be a lie, but he would have to enter to find out wouldn’t he? With a push, he made his way in. He regretted it almost instantly. He could hear Roman yelling backstage, probably having seen the cast list. To be fair, Logan didn’t know who Roman was cast as, but he hopes it wasn’t all too bad. Quickly, he manages to avoid any kids who are in the auditorium seats and slinks his way up into the tech booth.

“Good morning, Virgil.” He says, setting down Virgil’s coffee in front of him.

Virgil looks surprised, “Morning, is this for me?”

“Who else would it be for?” Logan asks, making Virgil smirk.

“Thanks, you should hurry down and look at the cast list though. Roman might rip it to pieces.”

Logan nods and hurries out, but makes the decision to leave his drink with Virgil in case of any...emergency.

Ducking into the backstage area, he finds Patton trying to calm down Roman, who is very very angry. Remus is laughing again, but Logan doesn’t know what is so funny about his imminent demise. Janus is the first to notice his presence and gives him a sympathetic nod.

“Patton, he hadn’t even heard of Hamilton until a week ago! What kind of lead even is that!?”

“Look, I don’t understand it either, but when Thomas gets here you can talk to him! I’m sure Logan is going to be shocked when he gets…” Patton had noticed him and was now staring, “here…”

Roman notices and turns on him and shoves the cast list into his face, “Look at this, Logan! You! You are playing Hamilton! Are you happy!?”

Logan sighs deeply, taking the list and looking it over, “Not in the slightest if that makes you feel any better.”

“That actually somehow makes me feel worse!” Roman shouts then sits down in one of the backstage chairs to pout.

Janus holds back his laughter, “Wow Logan, this is totally not hilarious at all, Roman should totally be pouting like a little kid and throwing a fit.”

“Guys! Seriously! It’s not a bad thing! Logan’s audition was amazing!” Patton says as cheerfully as usual and walks closer to Logan to point at the cast list, “Look, I’m playing Eliza! That’s super awesome! We’ll be doing a lot of scenes together so I hope we can become better friends!”

Logan just nods, going back to reading. Him as Hamilton, with Roman as his understudy. Along with being his understudy, Roman was going to play George Washington. Logan liked George Washington’s part, and though he didn’t understand his being Hamilton, he’s glad Roman got a large role. Janus would be playing Aaron Burr, which made a lot of sense. Janus would be wonderful as Burr. Patton, as he already said, would be playing Eliza. This was...a bit of a problem, the more Logan thought about it. Patton would be playing his love interest. He...he would think about that when it mattered more. Remus would be playing King George, which Logan was glad about. Remus seemed to really want to play the villain. Though Remus’ name was next to another character’s name as well. Maria Reynolds. Remus Grimm playing King George and Maria Reynolds. He would be in a scene where Remus would have to actively seduce him.

Just as he started to wrap his head around this, Remus slung an arm over his shoulder.

“Ain’t it just great that I get to be a monarch and a whore!? I, personally, couldn’t be happier. Make money, get dick, I always say!” Remus says excitedly.

Logan chokes on his own spit, and has to cough a bit before he can reply, “I can see how the seduction angle appeals to you.”

“It won’t appeal to me if you get sick and Roman ends up Hamilton!”

Logan visibly cringes and Remus chuckles, “So you better not drop out or something, dork! I can do a lot of gross shit but acting out the seduction of my twin brother is way too gross.”

Thinking for a second, Logan turns to look at Remus, who is smiling at him. His teeth are so sharp. His eye shadow is bright violet and a mess. He really does look like he had recently been at a rave.

“I’ll be sure not to disappoint you, Remus.”

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dreamnants · 3 years

Text

These are snippets from pieces I wrote set in the Chiaroscuro Reflections AU that I couldn’t ever finish, but liked some parts enough to share.

(Each 3 periods is a different snippet!)

"Ugh...so bored..." Mayday groaned, slouching forward on the bench as the background noise of talking droned on. Currently, she was at a gallery Nadia was attending as an exhibitor and Mayday had tagged along.

Mayday would admit she found stuff like visual art boring, like classical music. She only attended art exhibits and galleries because of Nadia, either to support her creative endeavors or just a weekend away from practicing. Unfortunately, Nadia was currently being held up by various individuals wishing to talk to her about her pieces, so now Mayday was left to her own devices. Which considering her lack of 'artistic perception' as Nadia had put it, meant she was completely bored out of her mind. Mayday didn't deny that observation from her friend; she was a straight-forward person that took things at face value. She could appreciate the colors and the techniques involved, sure, but grasping symbolism and meaning from some painting or sculpture? Way beyond her. That fact was a huge reason for dispute back when she first met Nadia among other reasons - and why Nadia disparagingly called her pedestrian and Mayday countered calling her snobby. But nowadays, Nadia accepted that about Mayday. Instead, Nadia would tell Mayday her interpretations of the art in front of them whenever they visited galleries together. Mayday still couldn't fully get the pieces even with Nadia's commentary, but she wouldn't deny that Nadia's explanations made something that would normally bore her to tears into something she'd consider fun, even if it wasn't to her usual taste. Plus, something about how excited Nadia could get when giving her interpretations of other people's artwork, jade eyes sparkling with a joy that was both foreign and yet fitting for her made Mayday think it was worth hours of her time to make her best friend happy. Nadia always seemed appreciative of Mayday just listening to her talk without judgement and Mayday preferred it that way; early in their friendship, Nadia was self conscious about her thoughts because her perception of things were unique. So she would never talk about things like the ‘hazy gaze of Pluto in the gray’ or ‘the coupling of the sky and the ocean’ as she did now.

The current Nadia was far better simply because she was more herself. Of course, the current lack of Nadia and her Master's degree in Fine Arts and Music mind meant Mayday was stuck in a building full of people's art in an environment that didn't suit her and having no imagination with art interpretation to make her own ideas.

...Maybe she really should try to figure out how to do this art stuff on her own. . . . She wondered what happened between Han and his brother. Han didn't seem to hate his brother, but there was something she couldn't put her finger on. An unspoken frustration mixed with other things hard to say or articulate in a way that made sense. Yinu wondered if it was like herself with her mother. She loved her mother, playing her piano to make her happy. But sometimes, Yinu wondered if it was making her mother happy. Yinu often dreamed of the days gone of her father's piano lessons, back before BAKAT and NSR and filming in a forest backdrop. Back when she wasn't doubtful that her mother loved her whenever she listened to her play. At times, Yinu hated the piano that she and her father loved so much because of those doubts. But in the end, she loved it more than she hated it. Because Yinu simply loved music, the language she used to communicate with her parents before she could even speak properly. Perhaps that was why Yinu felt at ease around Han. And maybe that was why Han felt the same around her to show the slightest hint of vulnerability, some truth behind the artist known as Han. Han's real reason for playing was out of a genuine love for it and the memories associated with it. Both the good and the bad. .

"Excuse me, you two."

It was one of the judges.

"I thought you made your rejection of us clear?"

"Yes, but...I wished to have a few words with both of you."

"Your styles are incompatible."

There was nothing harsh about the words. Only a blunt honesty without any ambiguity behind it meant as good intention critique. Not that it lessened the sting.

Nadia's eyes were unreadable, but her clenched fists spoke enough for her silence.

"If I judged you both independently, you perform well on your own merits. But together, your styles clash and it cheapens your playing."

"Miss Nadia plays in a style like an earthquake; unpredictable and strong. The young man here...is akin to the ocean's surface, still and constant. But instead of accenting the strengths of both, your disconnect brings out the flaws behind both. The earthquake drowns out the sounds and depths of the drums. The ocean is silenced by the earthquake of the bass."

"Your point being?" Nadia asked through gritted teeth and a forced neutrality.

"Unfortunately, I don't think either of you will get far together."

"We can always try to-"

The disappointed look on the old man's face said enough as he shook his head.

"While I believe that's one solution to this issue, I'm afraid that's not an option for you."

Though he'd been looking at Nadia the whole time, Zuke noticed the man briefly casted his eyes at him as he spoke the words, staring straight at his soul.

"What?!"

He sighed, his tired eyes looking away from them as he turned back toward where he came.

"...If you're confused by that, then you've only proven my point."

With that, the old man departed, leaving the two in an awkward silent contemplation.

Looking back on that day in retrospect, the judge's comments was the calm before the storm, a warning omen his relationship with Nadia would not last.

Only a month after that audition, Nadia set his hair on fire and the rest was history.

(That judge had saw the truth long before Zuke ever consciously admitted it despite having known all along.)

#no straight roads #nsr swap au #chiaroscuro reflections

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artificialqueens · 4 years

Text

A Chip on My Shoulder (Crystal x Gigi) - Frankenvenus

Summary: After deciding that a childcare career just wasn’t for her, Crystal auditions for a theatre company who are putting on a production of Legally Blonde, and ends up falling for their lead, who happens to turn her nose up at everyone who shows any interest in her - however, she might have a soft spot for the new girl.

…

Crystal had been waiting all summer to find out whether or not she had been accepted into L.A’s prestigious theatre programme ‘Rupaul’s Academy of Performing Arts.’ Her audition had been in late May of 2019, and it had gone seemingly well. She sang the first minute of ‘A Boy Like That’ from West Side Story, as suggested by her mother, though she actually wanted to sing a song from Anastasia. Her mother had told her that Anastasia was far too babyish, and it would only be appropriate if she was auditioning for a role as a princess at Disneyland. She did what her mom said, and successfully hit each note in the audition room. The theatre director watching her seemed pleased. She was optimistic that she would land a place in the company.

She had been studying a college degree in childcare after leaving high school, but she quickly realised that she fucking hated it, she fucking hated little kids, and she really wanted to pursue musical theatre. Her family was overjoyed, to say the least. Her dad had had this ridiculous fantasy that they would become a family band and Crystal would be the next Selena Quintanilla, so he was very supportive of his daughter’s change in aspiration.

The letter arrived on the 1st of September, and Crystal’s mom snatched it out of her daughter’s hands before she could open it. The woman was insistent in finding out first.

She dragged her sharp nails across the top of the envelope, opening it in the most inefficient way possible. She had a large smile across her face, simply knowing that her daughter was going to be accepted.

“Mom could I-” Crystal tried to take the letter into her own hands but her mom slapped her fingers away.

“Basta ya, I can do it myself,” she sighed, yanking the letter from the envelope and unfolding it, “Dear Crystal Elizabeth,” she sang, her voice filled with hope, “We regret to inform you that you have been unsuccessful in the selection of this year’s cast…” her mom quickly slammed the letter against the table and left the room leaving Crystal alone to finish reading it through watery eyes.

“We were overwhelmed with this year’s talent and wholeheartedly suggest you try again next year. We urge you not to give up on your theatrical dream as there are always other opportunities- this is the letter they send to everyone who failed, why am I reading this?” she sniffled, pushing it down on the table as her mom walked back in.

“It’s that blue hair of yours, Crystal, I know it. Maybe if you had kept it brown then they would’ve accepted you.”

“Si mamá,” she sighed, wiping her eyes and picking up her phone which was face-down on the table in front.

In that next moment, she thanked the gods and Mark Zuckerberg for listening in to her conversations, because an advert notification popped up on her screen when she opened Instagram.

Stephanie’s Child School of Theatrical Arts - Walk-in auditions September 8th - Anyone is welcome - Headshots NOT obligatory - Bring your own sheet music!

Crystal kissed her phone and rushed to her laptop, printing out the sheet music to ‘Journey to the Past’ from Anastasia as discreetly as she could. This other theatre school was no Rupaul’s academy, evidently (their advert used comic sans in the title) but she still felt like it was a sign.

After many nights of rehearsing, practice and being told to shut the fuck up by her little brother, audition day finally came.

She was given a sticker with her name on it upon entry, as well as a number. The school’s studio, where the audition was taking place, seemed quite old and in need of a makeover, but it was homely nonetheless. There were only about ten other people auditioning, unlike Rupaul’s school with over a hundred auditionees. Crystal wondered how many people attending were Rupaul rejects, and it made her uneasy.

After warming up alone by blowing bubbles into her water with a straw for ten minutes, a gleeful looking girl bounced in with lilac-coloured hair.

Thank God - this meant Crystal’s blue hair wouldn’t be an issue when being accepted.

“Hey, people! My name is Jan and I am the theatre director here. So we are going to start with number twelve for singing and then work our way down, and then you’re going to learn some choreo for a dance call!” she beamed, gripping her clipboard aggressively.

A dance call? Have mercy.

Crystal was number eight, which meant that it wouldn’t be long before she was called in to sing. She bounced her leg tensely, watching one girl begin to stretch in the corner of the room. Her name tag read ‘Jaida,’ and she had come in a leotard and jazz shoes - more prepared than Crystal.

After a minute of staring, Jaida caught her, before smiling and approaching her.

“Hey, girl! You threatened?” the girl asked sternly, causing Crystal’s heart to drop. Oh no, she had already made a bad impression.

“I- no… sorry I-” she was cut off with a laugh from the tall brunette in front of her.

“I’m just fuckin’ with you. Hi, I’m Jaida. And you are…” her eyes trailed to the shorter girl’s name tag, “Crystal. Cute. What are you singing?”

“Journey to the Past from Anastasia,” Crystal spoke nervously, fumbling with the pages of her sheet music.

“Awe, bless you,” Jaida chuckled, placing a hand over her heart, “I’m singing Aquarius from Hair. Also don’t look so nervous, sweetie. My friends Heidi and Jackie go here, and they say it’s super chill. Plus - you look talented.”

Crystal blushed, “Thank you. So do you!”

Jan walked back into the room with her clipboard in hand, “Can number ten follow me please?”

Jaida’s breath hitched as she shuffled across the room to grab her sheet music. She quickly winked at Crystal before disappearing into the other room. The blue-haired girl could hear the large rumble of the grand piano, but was disappointed that she couldn’t hear Jaida’s voice. The girl seemed enticing.

It wasn’t long before Crystal was being called through. She smiled shyly while she placed her music down in front of the pianist, who was a cheerful-looking girl with heavy makeup on and large glasses. Her name tag read ‘Rock,’ and Crystal whispered a small thank you to her before taking her spot in front of Jan and another woman, who was taking notes.

“Hello, my name is Crystal Elizabeth and I will be singing ‘Journey to the Past’ from Anastasia,” she began, suddenly regaining her confidence as the soft piano began. She was Crystal Elizabeth, high school salutatorian and a killer mezzo-soprano. She belted the song with a passion she had never felt before, and she left everyone else in the room blown away after the final note.

“That’s some voice you have there, Miss Elizabeth,” Jan smiled, clapping softly, “You are very talented.”

“Thank you so much.”

Much to Crystal’s surprise, the dance call went well. She managed to pick up Jan’s choreography easily, and Jaida assisted her with the few moves she couldn’t quite get.

She left the audition that night with the biggest smile she had sported in a while.

…

Unlike Rupaul’s Academy of Performing Arts, the letter from Stephanie’s Child came quickly. It arrived in the mail less than a month after Crystal’s audition. Her mom wasn’t so eager to be first to open it after last time, so Crystal took the duty of prying open the envelope.

“Crystal Elizabeth, We at Stephanie’s Child School of Theatrical Arts are delighted to inform you that you will be joining this year’s cast and programme. We loved your audition and we would love to hear even more from you, so we can’t wait to see you in rehearsals for our winter production of Legally Blonde starting this Wednesday, and we’d love to see you audition for a role!” Crystal read it out shakily, fireworks exploding in her chest.

First of all, she got in! She was so thankful and even more thrilled that she was finally able to make her mom proud. Second of all, they were doing Legally Blonde which was beyond iconic.

…

It was the first day of rehearsals, and Crystal was almost more nervous than she was for her initial audition. She caked her face in makeup and put her hair into two low pigtails, hoping to impress her fellow castmates.

She was told by the receptionist to sign her name in at the door, so she doodled ‘Crystal Elizabeth’ with a heart on the ‘i’ before smiling at the sight of the name ‘Jaida Hall’ above her own. It was great that she had a familiar face going in.

When she entered the studio, she felt all eyes on her. It was a large dance studio with mirrors on two sides of the room, a grand piano in one corner, and tap dancing mats stacked up in another.

There were about four prominent friend groups across the room, but Crystal drifted over to Jaida, where she stood with a short girl with black hair and a large gap tooth and a taller girl with a hijab and high dancing heels on.

“Crystal! You got in!” Jaida squealed, pulling the blue-haired girl into an unexpected hug.

“Yeah, I’m really surprised. Everyone here looks so professional!” Crystal giggled, her voice cracking slightly under the pressure.

“Trust and believe - we are far from professional,” the girl with the gap snorted, “I’m Heidi! It’s great to meet you.”

“And I’m Jackie,” the girl with the hijab greeted, “Jaida was telling us how good your singing audition was.”

Crystal’s eyes widened as she looked to the brunette, “You could hear me?”

“I may or may not have stood by the door. You have pipes, girl.”

“So you have a high belt, hm?” Heidi asked with a glint in her eye.

“Yeah, I guess so…”

“Well, you’re gonna have to compete with Gigi for the part of Elle then…” Jackie smirked, pointing across the room.

Crystal averted her gaze to where the girl pointed, and suddenly she felt abruptly light-headed.

There stood a remarkably tall redhead with perfectly curled hair tossed over one shoulder, warming up into a belt box that she held to her mouth, as many surrounding girls watched, mesmerized.

“I just know she’s that girl,” Jaida rolled her eyes, “Let me guess - she auditioned with ’Don’t Rain on My Parade.’”

Heidi nearly spat out the water she was drinking, knowing that Jaida had hit the nail on the head.

“She has a three-octave belting range. She’s scary,” Jackie exhaled, patting Heidi’s back gently to stop her from choking.

“She’s hot,” Crystal thought, still watching the girl warm up. Gigi. That was like a model’s name. She wondered what it was short for. Georgia, Regina, Imogen, Virginia, Genevieve, Gianna - It could be anything.

“You’re right, she is hot alright,” Heidi said, causing Crystal’s stomach to plummet because she said that out loud, “But she barely lets anyone touch her. She’s nice and all but - we barely know anything about her - other than her insane range. Her mom is a vocal coach.”

The blue-haired girl frowned. Even though she was still yet to talk to this girl, she wanted to know more about her. She wanted to know everything - because she was a creep. Why did she think she would be different and would somehow succeed in weaving her way into Gigi’s personal life?

“More than half of the people in this room have asked her on a date,” Heidi continued, “But she turned them all down because - and I quote - She’s sorry, she’s too busy, she can get their number in case she changes her mind - but she never does. She could be from another country and we wouldn’t know.”

“She seems pretty bold for a theatre kid,” Jaida snickered, but she was interrupted when Jan began clapping, ushering everyone to the centre of the room.

Crystal followed her new group of friends to a circle of chairs that had been placed in the centre of the room. She was sure she recalled auditioning for a musical theatre school - not a group therapy session.

She took a seat between Jackie and Jaida, and Gigi sat across from them, conversing to a friend who Crystal recognised to be Rock - the pianist from her audition.

“Hey everyone! I’m so excited to welcome all these new faces to our company! There are about five new people in the room, so one by one I want you all to stand up and tell everyone your name, your favourite role you’ve ever played and your dream role,” Jan explained gleefully. There was something about the lilac-haired woman that brightened up the room a little bit.

Jaida was first to stand up, puffing her chest out like the proud woman she was. Crystal just knew she was a professional and she’d be in her element at this academy.

“My name is Jaida, the best role I have played was Deloris is my senior year’s production of Sister Act and my dream role is Bonnie Parker from Bonnie and Clyde.”

Everyone had small discussions about how they would kill to play Deloris or how Bonnie was the hottest role on Broadway, but then it was the next newbie’s turn.

“My name is Widow - the best role I played was Donna in my community theatre’s production of Mamma Mia, but my dream role is Regina George and I live by that.”

Many girls in the circle whooped and cheered for her, and Crystal already felt like she was part of such a tight-knit family. She wallowed in her happiness until she realised that it was her turn to speak. She stood from her chair with shaky legs, and Gigi watched her with a curious glance that she couldn’t quite read. She bit her lip, placed her hands behind her back, rocked back and forth on her feet, and spoke.

“Um, my name is Crystal and my favourite role that I played was Heather McNamara in Heathers and I think my dream role is Eva Peron in Evita or maybe Nina from In The Heights? I don’t know… I don’t have the best theatre knowledge. I don’t have a BFA or anything I-”

Jan chuckled slightly, smiling at Crystal, “I promise that you know more shows than some people I know. My mom only knows Grease, no matter how many show tunes I play her in the car.”

Crystal reacted with a soft giggle, a blush covering her face when she noticed Gigi resting her chin on her fist, staring up at her with a fascinated look. The blue-haired girl wanted to stare back, but that meant eye contact, and she wasn’t prepared for that. She sat herself back down as the next girl stood up.

“Bonjour, my name is Nicky,” her accent was heavy, and no one had to ask to know she was from France, but she brought it up anyway, “I moved here from Paris a couple of months ago, my favourite role I’ve played was Velma in Chicago, and my dream role is Velma in Chicago, except this time, on Broadway.”

Crystal heard Jaida say ‘I feel you girl’ and smiled at the thought of Nicky and Jaida being Roxie and Velma. It would be iconic.

The final girl stood up - she was tall and lanky but had the coolest hair Crystal had ever seen. She had pink dreadlocks, half wrapped in a bun at the top of her head.

“I’m Yvie. My favourite role I played was Elphaba in my community theatre’s production of Wicked but my dream role is probably Persephone from Hadestown.”

Crystal wanted to sink into her seat. Where she had grown up, in Missouri, she had been a big fish in a small pond. The girls at her high school just wanted to sing Britney Spears, and didn’t care for theatre - but Crystal had taught herself to belt. There weren’t any belters where she was from, but now, in New York, it seemed that that was all there was.

She had zoned out from the group’s conversation for a while, lost in her own many insecure thoughts. Now she was just a small speck of dust in a city full of dreamers. Everyone was fighting for a role on broadway. What made her different?

She was so focused on her own insecurities that she hardly noticed a hand being held in front of her. It was pale and delicate - so it wasn’t Jaida. Her brown-eyed gaze moved upwards, stifling a gasp when she saw Gigi in front of her.

“Hello?” was all she could muster out. She felt humiliated afterwards. Jan had definitely set a task that she hadn’t listened to, “Sorry I- I kinda wasn’t focused when Jan was explaining whatever we were doing could you, uhm, fill me in?”

Gigi smiled a toothy smile, and Crystal was so thankful she got to see her this close, even though the scenario was embarrassing. Her nose was slender as it went down but kissable at the bottom. Her eyes were large and blue and overwhelmingly bright, guarded by thin-framed circular glasses. Her features were quite androgynous, with a sharp jawline and defined cheekbones, and Crystal’s brain was short-circuiting.

“Yeah, I figured you zoned out,” she smirked, “Basically Jan paired all of the new girls with old members, and we have to give you a tour of the building and I got paired with you! I’m Gigi.”

Crystal thanked the Gods for the blessing that was this girl, “Lucky me!” she blurted, and quickly Gigi’s fair skin turned rosy.

From Jackie and Heidi’s description, the blue-haired girl had been quick to assume that Gigi carried a coldness to her. This wasn’t the case, as the redhead hadn’t stopped grinning since Crystal introduced herself.

“So, you seemed to like my dream roles,” Crystal chuckled, making conversation whilst Gigi showed her around the ground floor juice bar, “What are your dream roles? And what roles have you played? Where are you even from?”

“Lots of questions,” Gigi joked, buying two beetroot juices for her and Crystal, “I’m from L.A, but don’t tell anyone. New Yorkers hate us L.A folks. I’ve lived here for a year now, and it’s cool. My dream role is probably Audrey from Little Shop of Horrors or like… Penny from Hairspray. I’ve been in so many shows like Cabaret, The Last Five Years, Pippin, but the best role I played was Heather Chandler in Heathers.”

In the next moment, Crystal wished that she wasn’t such a deep thinker. Often she would think out loud by mistake, and this was one of those times.

“That’s hot,” she gushed, without a single formed thought

“So I’ve heard,” Gigi held back laughter, and Crystal wanted to succumb, “Unfortunately, I don’t remember the part when Chandler and McNamara get together.”

The blue-haired girl made a swift attempt to steer the conversation in a different direction, so she said the first thing that came to mind, “You don’t seem bitchy enough to play Chandler.”

Fuck. That wasn’t a good way to steer the conversation either.

“Well, there’s a lot you don’t know about me…” Gigi deadpanned.

Crystal sighed and looked down at her juice, “At least tell me what Gigi is short for.”

The redhead rolled her eyes before casually leaning in and whispering in the shorter girl’s ear, her cool breath hitting the side of her face.

“Giselle.”

…

Audition day for their parts in the show came quicker than Crystal had hoped. She was fully prepared the day she was given the materials, but her self-doubt caused her to be extremely nervous.

Crystal didn’t know what was worse; the fact that they had to watch everyone else’s auditions or the fact that practically everyone was auditioning for Elle.

Luckily for her, Jaida volunteered to go first. The blue-haired girl was terrified of being selected from the group. No one had heard her voice yet, other than Jaida.

Jaida fucking nailed ‘So Much Better’ as if the song was written for her. The girl carried herself like a Tony winner, and Crystal wouldn’t be surprised if that was the road she took. Her acting was dramatic and eccentric, evidently theatrically trained rather than for film. Her audition ended with applause, and it was Jackie’s turn next.

Jackie was one of the few people not auditioning for the lead and was instead auditioning for Paulette, the hairdresser. Over the few weeks she had been there, Crystal acknowledged that Jackie was the mom of the group - the glue that held the theatre divas together. The girl embodied the role of Paulette perfectly.

Crystal then realised that Jan was staring right at her, and as soon as Jackie finished her final note, the director called her up to sing next. The tanned girl nodded, fiddling with her script just to scan over one more line before placing it down.

“Can I quickly grab some water?” she asked, partly because her throat was dry but mostly because she was stalling. Jan nodded with a sigh, and Crystal rushed out of the room. What she didn’t expect was for Gigi to follow her.

As she was filling up the small paper cup with room temperature water, she felt a hand on her back. She turned around, careful not to spill her drink, and saw the redhead standing there with a look of concern.

“You don’t need to stall,” Gigi assured, her hand not moving from it’s position just below Crystal’s shoulder, “You’re here for a reason. They wouldn’t let you in if you sang like shit.”

The shorter girl scoffed, “I have my good days and I have my bad days. Today is not a good day.”

She found her breathing getting worryingly rapid, like she was verging on a panic attack. It was eased when Gigi placed her free hand on the other side of her back and held her there, going through some quick breathing exercises. The redhead told her to inhale and exhale before dragging her back into the audition room.

“I am Crystal Elizabeth and I’ll be auditioning for Elle Woods,” she glanced over at Gigi and saw the girl give her a discreet thumbs-up. The entire endeavour from the last few minutes just hit her. Gigi had spoken to her, touched her, and calmed her down, despite keeping her distance from her after that first day. The validation from Gigi bloomed butterflies of dignity in her chest, and she nailed her audition, personifying the strong, ambitious lady that was Elle Woods.

The fact that she hit each note perfectly boosted her hope that she could land this role, but what increased her faith the most was the smile Gigi sported the entire time.

Gigi’s audition swept Crystal off her feet, even though she was sitting down. Her voice was like silk, her vibrato was perfect and she hit and held the final high note like it was the simplest thing she’d ever done. Crystal was in the right mind to give the girl a standing ovation, but she didn’t want to discourage those yet to audition. Instead, she let out a gentle squeal when Gigi returned to her seat.

“That was insane,” Crystal mouthed to the girl, who was sitting two metres away, with Widow and Nicky keeping them separated.

The redhead mouthed something back, but Crystal couldn’t identify what it was. It was either ‘Thank you, honey’which was cute, or ‘Thank you, baby’ which would’ve literally killed Crystal.

…

If she was being honest, Crystal didn’t want to look at the cast list. Although she would always be delighted to be in the cast at all, if she landed the infamous role of shop assistant number two, she would see her theatre career to be over.

The list was going to be sent out at six in the evening through email, and Crystal found herself not leaving her apartment the entire day, trying to busy herself by vacuuming every room, dusting every shelf, watching everything on her Letterboxd watchlist and finishing an entire bottle of rose lemonade (after debating whether or not she should have a bottle of wine instead, but she didn’t want to be too drunk to read the list.)

She was in the middle of watching The Craft when her phone pinged from the coffee table. She groaned as she reached over, trying to grab the device without moving the rest of her body. It took an extensive stretch of her arm, but she succeeded.

Her efforts were almost futile when she nearly dropped her phone after seeing what the notification read.

Unknown hey girl, it’s gigi from theatre. i hope this is ur number crystal but idk??? anyways i’m super nervous right now..

Where the fuck did Gigi get her number from and why was Miss Aloof making small talk with her? She promptly saved Gigi’s contact into her phone before trying to conjure up a reply that didn’t make her sound too needy or too disinterested.

Crystal it’s me alright ;) i’m nervous too. u for sure got the part though. if not… it’s rigged.

Crystal also how’d u get my number???

Gigi i asked nicky, and then nicky asked jaida, and then jaida gave it to me

Crystal was flattered that she went to such an effort, though she still couldn’t understand why.

Gigi ohmygod it’s 5:50. ten minutes

Gigi they r gonna typecast me as nikos cuz i’m gay AND european

Hold on. Wait a second. Did Giselle Goode just come out to her casually through a Legally Blonde song reference? Crystal felt like hurling her phone across the room. Now her little crush was made more unbearable, knowing that Gigi did like girls - just not her. The last thing she wanted to do was address Gigi’s comment.

Crystal u r european?? also u are elle woods. period

Gigi part scottish! also no u are elle woods no further questions.

Crystal came to realise that Gigi seemed much more confident and comfortable texting than she was in real life. She was more talkative behind a screen.

Crystal it’s legally blonde. not legally blue-haired Mexican

Gigi it’s not legally ginger either bitch . like no one at the studio is blonde

Gigi SJCDSCBHCASKJ WAAAITTTT THEY POSTED IT!t&%^%%*

Crystal’s stomach plummeted like the fucking Tower of Terror. It wasn’t even six yet! It was two minutes to six! Her thumb nearly got a friction burn as she swiped open the mail app. The top email was from Jan, and it had an image attached. With a trembling finger, Crystal opened it.

CAST LIST FEMALE PARTS Elle Woods - Giselle Goode Pilar, Margot, Serena - Jaqueline Cox, Heidi Anthonie, Nicolette Doll Paulette Buonofuonte - Widow Von Du Brooke Wyndham - Jaida Hall Chutney Wyndham - Yvangeline Oddly Vivienne Kensington - Crystal Elizabeth

Crystal didn’t need to read any more after spotting her name. Her grin was wide and her heart was full because she got to play the mean one. The girl had consistently been placed in the cute, funny best-friend typecast, and over time it had become tedious and repetitive. It was going to be great to expand her acting skills, despite not having a mean bone in her body. She opened the messenger app back up and started to text Gigi once again.

Crystal called it!! nothing but respect for MY elle woods

Gigi i am in disbelief, but congrats girl!!! u get to bully me on stage for like 2 hours

Crystal idk girl. i’m kinda mad i didn’t get shop assistant #2

Gigi not this…

…

The read-through came and went successfully, as well as three months of hardcore rehearsals and trying to go off-book, and then suddenly it was tech week (also known as a theatre kid’s best nightmare.)

They were performing the show at the Laura Pels Theatre in New York, and the Monday of tech week was the first day they had a run-through on the stage. The rush that Crystal experienced when she first saw the rows and rows of seats that would be filled the next week was overwhelming. Almost every performance in the eight-show run was sold out.

Whilst the tech crew fiddled with the sound deck, Jan allowed the girls to roam around backstage and organise all their props and costumes, but Crystal wasn’t one for organising. She took a seat in the middle of the stalls, simply staring at the large stage in front of her and picturing herself belting her heart out in the centre, in front of a huge audience of people.

Her fantasy was startled when a sharp ‘boo’ was whispered in her ear. She turned around and saw that Gigi had sat in the seat behind her with a large grin on her face. Over the many months of rehearsing, Gigi and Crystal had become best friends, baffling everyone else at the studio. Crystal knew everything about Gigi there was to know now, and she had seen all sides of the redhead’s goofy personality that she would mask around others.

“You scared me,” Crystal cackled, flashing a toothy smile at her best friend.

“You scared me. You were just staring off into the distance like you were possessed or something.” Gigi reached up to fiddle with Crystal’s curls, which had now been dyed back to their natural colour - dark brown - for the purpose of the show, “I organised your dressing room for you since you didn’t seem to want to do it yourself.”

The brunette sighed, melting into Gigi’s touch, “I’m overwhelmed!”

“Okay and? I’m the lead.”

“Fuck off.”

“Watch this…” Gigi pulled her phone out from her jean pocket and opened her camera roll, showing Crystal a video she had sneakily filmed of the latter in the wings whilst Nicky, Jackie, Heidi and the ensemble rehearsed the opening number, ‘Omigod You Guys.’ The video featured Crystal on the other side of the wings, watching the girls singing and lip-syncing along, thinking no one was watching. She was dancing like an awkward mom whilst Heidi sang her part.

“Giselle Jasmine Goode delete that off your phone now.”

“Absolutely not.”

Crystal half-heartedly wrestled her for a bit, trying to grab her friend’s phone, but Gigi switched it off so she couldn’t unlock it.

“I hate you,” she groaned, sinking back into the soft auditorium seat.

Gigi slipped her phone back into her pocket and stared at Crystal with a look that flipped the mood between the two. Her eyes were sultry-looking and her lips curled up slyly, “You don’t hate me at all.”

It took everything in Crystal not to stare down at the girl’s glossy pink lips, but that didn’t stop her from imagining how they would taste.

It was frustrating sometimes, the way Gigi knew most people at the studio found her attractive. It gave her a sense of cockiness that she would utilize by teasing Crystal - making the innocent brunette believe she had a chance. Crystal knew she didn’t, though. Crystal was sure Gigi had her eyes set on Nicky. They were more similar, evidently. She had to accept that Gigi was always going to be her friend, and nothing more.

…

A week later, after many late nights and many mic-checks, opening night arrived. From her dressing room, Crystal could hear crowds of people filling up the auditorium whilst she straightened her wild curls with a flat iron. Her hands were shaky as she unbuttoned the top two buttons of her striped shirt. Her costume was bland, consisting of a black skirt, a black and white striped button-up and plain black stilettos - the token ‘law student look.’

Across the room, Gigi was staring into the mirror and warming up whilst Jaida tried to fix her blonde lace-front wig for her. Gigi’s costume was fashionable and early 2000s style: a cropped denim jacket over a pink Chanel patterned dress. Her heels were high and her makeup was bright, and everything was so very pink.

Jaida, Crystal and Gigi all shared a dressing room, and it sat practically under the stage, so they had to keep quiet. Jaida’s character didn’t appear until the second act, so after helping the others get ready, she sat in the corner and steamed her voice with Gigi’s very overpriced vocal steamer.

As Crystal was applying nude lip liner to her lips, her phone pinged, and a text from her mom appeared on the screen.

Mom The family has arrived, Mija! We are all in the front row and we are so excited for you!!!

The brunette smiled to herself, trying to send a reply back without getting pounds of stage-makeup on her phone screen.

Crystal thank u for the support mama, but remember, don’t clap or cheer unless it’s at the end of the song or during the bows, and no singing! theatre etiquette!!!

Mom Lo sé. Tell Gigi good luck from me.

The text was followed by many nonsensical emojis, but Crystal was smiling too hard to care.

“Chile, what are you staring at?” Jaida smirked at her through the mirror, “You’re talking to a girl?”

Out of the corner of her eye, Crystal saw Gigi’s expression falter. The girl now had her eyes squinted at the brunette, hoping she wouldn’t notice.

“Ew gross. It’s my mom!” Crystal snorted, placing her phone down on the table and making a dramatically disgusted look on her face.

Jaida strutted over to Crystal and grinned at her, “You’re way too happy all the time to be single.”

“Girl, what does that even mean? I’m just positive!”

“Mhm…”

The brunette averted her gaze back to her lip liner when she caught a glare from Gigi in the mirror.

“Whatsup?” Crystal mouthed.

“Nerves,” Gigi mouthed back.

“You’ll kill it.”

Ten minutes later, however, the roles were reversed. They were ten minutes to curtain, and Crystal was physically shaking on her dressing room stool. Jaida had gone to the bathroom, so Gigi took it upon herself to comfort her friend.

“I’m so fucking scared, G. You know, on the opening night of West Side Story, when I was Anita, my voice cracked during ’America,’ and it was the worst feeling ever. Opening nights are always cursed for me. I’m probably gonna fall over or something,” she started crying, and Gigi was quick to grab tissues, not wanting her to spoil the stage-makeup she had spent so long on. She dabbed the soft tissues below Crystal’s waterline where tears threatened to spill over and escape her glassy eyes.

“Hey, I’m not good at like… the whole comforting thing but, I know that you’re gonna fucking kill it. For the entire first act you get to be a hardcore bitch, and then at the end, you get to sing your big note and sweep everyone away! You’re so fucking fierce and beautiful and you literally ooze talent out like it’s fucking sweat I- I’m rambling,” the words spilt out of Gigi like a broken soap dispenser, but Crystal had never felt so much compassion for her as she did at that moment.

From being seemingly emotionless to rambling on about the respect she had for her best friend; Gigi had experienced incredible growth as a person since befriending Crystal.

“And before you doubt yourself for another second, just know that I fucking love you,” the taller girl added, and oh.

Crystal blinked a couple of times, trying to ease the new swarm of Gigi-caused butterflies that had since joined the stage-fright butterflies. She swallowed the growing lump in her throat, and looked in her friend’s eyes, begging for her to continue speaking before Crystal blurted I love you too.

And Crystal was sure glad that she didn’t get the chance to say the three words in return, because Gigi added something else, “You are the best best-friend I’ve ever had.”

Friends.

…

Despite the minor soft blow to the chest, Gigi’s pep-talk must have been working so far, because the rush Crystal gained from waiting in the wings, watching the audience, was another one of the greatest feelings she had ever felt. The brunette gazed as Gigi, Nicky, Heidi, Jackie and the ensemble all nailed ‘What You Want,’ and then it was time for her first scene.

She entered on stage alongside her castmate Finneas, the guy playing Warner, and they stood in line waiting for Drew, the guy playing Emmet, to receive their syllabi. Gigi, Finneas and Drew had a few lines of dialogue before Crystal delivered her first line.

“All that pink you’re wearing. Is that even legal?” her character questioned in the bitchiest way possible, eliciting a few chuckles from the packed audience.

“Pink is my signature colour,” Gigi gleamed.

“So I gathered.”

The scene went on smoothly, their Professor Callahan sang his song, and quickly it was Gigi and Crystal’s little bit of feminist dialogue. Gigi had it lucky - she got to smile whilst talking to Crystal - but the brunette had to act like she hated the girl, which was tougher than anticipated.

“Excuse me, but why would you do that to another girl?” Gigi’s character asked.

“Do what?”

“We girls have to stick together. We shouldn’t try to look good by making each other look bad.”

“I didn’t make you look bad, you just weren’t prepared. Try opening a law book. But I should warn you,” she smirked and sauntered towards Gigi, “They don’t come with pictures.”

At the end of Act one, Crystal watched Gigi sing ‘So Much Better,’ trying not to let tears run down her cheeks at how proud she was.

“I’ll even dress in black and white! See, I have not begun to fight. And you’ll go whoah, much better, hello, much better, and soon all y’all gonna know much better…” the redhead (or blonde, if you counted the wig) sang like it was her final performance, even if it was the first of eight shows. She earned a standing ovation for her final note as the curtains closed on the first act, and the first thing she did was run over to Crystal, trip over, and fall into her arms.

“That was fucking insane!” the brunette congratulated, gently placing a kiss on her best friend’s head. She wondered if she could feel it, considering the blonde wig was quite large.

“Can you believe we are fucking here?” Gigi gaped as a group of girls gathered around her. Jaida smirked and Jackie formed an ‘o’ shape with her mouth. The redhead quickly noticed what she said and re-worded it, “I mean we aren’t fucking here but, we fucking are here.”

Crystal laughed and pulled her in closer, but the word friend from earlier built a distance.

Act two went just as well as the first act, and Crystal spotted her mom and little brother in the front row, looking prouder than they had ever looked, and she almost felt complete.

She was shaky when she walked onto the hairdresser set for her big song. Widow and Gigi had some dialogue first, before the latter gave Crystal her cue:

“All this time I thought I was proving myself and making a difference… but it turns out I’m just one big blonde joke. That’s all anyone’s ever gonna see,” Gigi’s character sighed, and suddenly Crystal (or Vivienne) revealed herself from under the hairdryer, causing everyone on stage, as well as most of the audience, to gasp.

“That’s not what I see,” Crystal exclaimed, and there was a short moment after delivering that line where the audience clapped. This was true happiness - this was what it felt like.

“Vivienne?” said Gigi when the audience had finally finished cheering.

“Maybe Warner saw a blonde who was sleeping her way to the top, but all I see is a woman who doesn’t have to.”

The band began playing under her line, and when it was over, she slipped into singing.

“I used to pray for the day you’d leave. Swore up and down you did not belong. But when I am wrong then I say I’m wrong, and I was wrong about you, so listen up!” she strutted over to Widow and Gigi, where they both stood with confused expressions. She placed her hand on Gigi’s arm and continued singing, “I see no end to what you’ll achieve - that’s only if you don’t turn and run. You proved it to me, now show everyone what you can do,” an ensemble member approached with a blue blazer and skirt for Gigi, “And you look great in dark blue!”

Crystal placed her arm on Gigi’s back and led her to the centre of the stage, staring into the large audience with a smirk.

“Get back on the game… back on the case… take a good look at my face,” she turned to Gigi and bit her lip, and the redhead mirrored it, holding back a smile, “I’m not a fool, and as a rule, I do not bond.” she sang the word bond with quotation marks, and she held the note out whilst her friend clutched her chest. “But I see a star, you’re my new muse; you’ve got the best freakin’ shoes!”

The audience cheered as she sang this, and the female ensemble came up behind her, dancing along as she sang like there was no tomorrow.

“And you lit a fuse, so go show ‘em who’s legally blonde!”

The number ended with tremendous applause from the audience, after Gigi’s costume change into her bright pink dress. Crystal pulled her friend into a hug, they exited the stage, and the brunette thanked every God in the sky for not giving her a voice crack, before quickly rushing back on for the courtroom scene.

The scene went on swiftly until Yvie delivered the climactic line: “Think I liked being older than my dad’s new candy wife? I didn’t mean to hurt my father! I didn’t mean to shoot him… I thought it was Brooke coming through the door!”

The final number blew everyone away. The crowd was up on their feet by the end, cheering when Gigi locked lips with Drew. Crystal smiled and clapped along with everyone, and watched as her entire extended family screamed their asses off in the front row.

During bows, Crystal, among others, were given immense amounts of the acclimation, but Gigi received the most. The redhead’s older brother stood in the front row with a bouquet of flowers, standing beside Gigi’s mom who was crying too much to cheer.

The brunette exited the stage with Jaida and Widow, but Gigi stayed on to give one last wave while the curtain closed.

Most of the girls made their way back to their dressing rooms to unwind, remove makeup and prepare to greet family members and acquaintances at the stage door, but Crystal waited in the wings for Gigi. Crystal’s bow gave her an enormous sudden surge of confidence, so as Gigi made her way towards her, she sucked in a deep breath and said everything she ever wanted to say:

“I know this is a lot to take in right now cause you just did that, but I am so proud of you and I’ve been thinking really long and hard about how, even though you’re the greatest best friend I could ever ask for, I want us to be more. I like you so much. I feel like I can’t have my cake and eat it since I’m already so lucky to be in your life just as a friend but it’s so hard not to kiss you when you look that fucking pretty all the fucking time and it’s making me feel crazy. The rush I got tonight makes it impossible for me not to say this. You can slap me, if you want, or just not say anything and go take your wig off-”

“-Shut up.” Gigi grabbed the brunette’s chin and pulled her into a passionate kiss that crossed every friendship barrier they had ever made. So many pent up feelings for such a long time spilt over and Crystal felt like crying when Gigi’s soft hands moved to her neck and pulled her closer.

They broke apart after twenty seconds, resting their foreheads against one another and grinning toothily.

“I like you too… Way more than I should like you. Opening up for me is impossible, but then you somehow made it possible… Like I can tell you anything! Plus, you’re so hot. Your ass… Anyways I’m backtracking. I like you so much,” she kissed the brunette’s forehead softly, “Now let’s go take everything off and then we can go say hi to our families, okay?” Gigi twinkled, reaching forward to grab the brunette’s hand.

Crystal was breathless, somehow managing to reply with a faint ‘yes.’

Crystal couldn’t believe she had said all that to Gigi but had forgotten to say I love you. Little did she know, she’d be whispering it into the redhead’s naked chest later that night.

#rpdr fanfiction #crystal methyd #gigi goode #crygi #lesbian au #musical theatre au #friends to lovers #happy ending #frankenvenus #concrit welcome #s12

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heythrrdelilah · 4 years

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Lights, Camera, Love (Tom Holland x Reader) Chapter 1

A/N: So, I’ve been wanting to write for Tom for a while now, I hope all the marvel fans approve. I have incorporated some of my personal goals; like acting since I did 7+ years of theater throughout my life and my certification in Radio/film broadcasting. Also, My nursing degree im working on. So this plot may seem cheesy because of it but… oh well. Also playing off the easter egg of Gwen in endgame.

Word Count: 1,642 (the next chapters will be better and longer sorry)

Warnings/tags: Fluffish, slow beginning (sorry.... it’s been a while since I’ve written anything), friend-zone

Pairings: Tom Holland x Reader

The cold winter breeze sent chills down your spine, making you regret not taking a bigger jacket or adding a few more layers to your outfit. Today, was your first day of work as a small part in the new Marvel movie. You hadn’t known much about it, because today was the first table read for your scene. The main cast had done their table reading months ago, however, for certain scenes, the small parts come in with the main cast as needed. You knew that you had more than one line, otherwise you would be placed with the extras. When you auditioned, you didn’t have a preference for a role, which was ideal for the directors. Directors usually want to have complete creative criticism over everything. Plus, you didn’t have an agent anyways, you had just heard of the audition through an online alert you set for google. Your regular day job was a nurse, which you were thankful that the hospital gave you days off for the filming.

“ID and reason for entry please?” The guard at the gates asked you when you arrived in your 2019 yellow and black camero. You nodded, reaching for your purse. Your nerves were causing your hand to shake as you passed your ID along. “Studio 9, Marvel. I play Mikayla, a small role,” You stated with a nervous, shaky tone. He marked you down on the ipad he wielded and passed you your ID along with a parking pass. He pressed the button for the gate to open and you went through, finding your way to the studio. You parked in the assigned spot, which was shockingly close to the studio building and exited.

Nervously gripping your coffee, you walked slowly into the building. There was a security guard in the doorway, who gave you a pass and directions to the reading table. You walked slowly through the building, seeing hundreds of employees rushing around to build sets, props, costumes, lighting, and several agents on their phones. It was seven in the morning and people were already working so hard. You dodged several people rolling giant wooden boards, along with piles of paint. From upstairs, where the reading room was, you could look down to the floor and see everything from above, as the rooms and offices were all around the sides of the building, leaving the middle open. You looked for office number 24 as instructedd in the email. As you reached the windowless room and door, you knocked gently before entering. The room was warm and smelled like a coffee shop. The lights were perfectly balanced between dim and bright. The tables were set in one big circle and the only other person in the room at the moment was a small blonde with rolled up knit sleeves, placing gift baskets at every seat. “Hello! You must be (y/n)! You’re early!” She smiled, placing another basket at another seat. I waved slightly, “Good morning, yeah sorry I actually thought I was running late. Would you like some help?” You placed your coffee and purse down on the table against the wall with the coffee pots, yes...plural. You rushed over to the two carts of baskets and began placing the heavy packets on the table. You hadn't even noticed the names on the baskets either.

"I'm Clara, by the way. I'm the Mr. Whedon's assistant," She placed her dainty hand out for you to shake. She was the same height as you, but probably weighed 20 pounds less given her viable bone lines. You were careful to lightly shake her hands. You didn't want to be objective when looking at her, guessing her weight, but your previous struggle with an eating disorder left a mark on your brain when it comes to this stuff. She was pretty in the way every other shy girl who moves to LA is. Definitely stuck out in this city, Atlanta that is.

"So the director gives gift baskets to even the smallest of roles? That's super cool," You walked over to the coffee stand and took your cup. She followed, pouring herself a nesspresso. "Small roles? No. There are too many characters with less than 10 lines. Why?" She took a second before her Raven black brows lifted, "oh shit! You don't know? They told you that you didn't get mIkayla right?" Wow-what a shot to the heart! You thought to yourself. You swallowed the lump in your throat and shook your head. "Well, you blew everyone away and they didn’t want to waste your talent on a classmate of peter. So, they decided it was time for Gwen Stacy to head into the Avenger world,” Clara informed. You scrunch your brows together, “Wait… is this why we saw a glimpse of Gwen in Endgame? That is honestly so sick!” You couldn’t contain your excitement. Your expression grew into a big smile. You were a big marvel fan, so this job was a double dream come true. It hadn’t actually hit you that you were Gwen Stacy until you found your seat. The gift basket in front of you had a place marker attatched, like one at an office, that read “Gwen Stacy/ (y/n),” you were reading out loud. “How many acting jobs have you had before this?” Clara asked cheerily. You placed your coffee down next to the basket, “This is the first professional one.” Just as Clara was about to state something, the door opened behind her.

Walking in was the tall blonde you could never not recognize, Chris Hemsworth. Your heart skipped a beat seeing him in person. Sure, you’ve met a few small celebrities before at concerts, but never someone with so much recognition. He was wearing jeans and a baseball Tee, his hair was spiked up and his smile was plastered on his face. He looked down at Clara and gave her a friendly side hug, “Nice to see you as always.” His accent was like cutting butter. Smooth and pleasing. She smiled up at him before motioning to the coffee. “As always, same to you. The coffee is set up and this film’s gift baskets are an assortment of pastries. Yes, this means apple fritters,” she smiled, pointing to his seat. You were frozen at your chair, hearing your heartbeat in your ears. “Oh I’m not the first one? This is different!” He began walking over to your direction. You found the courage to stand up, smoothening out the wrinkles in your shirt during the process. “Hi, I’m (y/n). I am apparently playing Gwen Stacy,” You placed your hand for him to shake. He towered over you, as you were pretty short. His firm grip on your heand suddenly calmed you, “i’m Chris. Nervous? I heard this was your first film?” You nodded slowly. This was just another person. Celebrities are people and you would just have to think that when everyone else walked through the door. “It’s so funny, I thought I had a small part, but Clara informed me otherwise just this morning. I thought you had all table read months ago,” You blabbed, taking a sip from your coffee. He chuckled, “They probably meant for it to be a surprise,” He spoke loud enough for Clara to hear that last part, “We read earlier than the small roles, but that doesn’t start until today.” You nodded smiling. This had to of been a dream. “Gwen stacy isn’t even an avenger though and-” Chris cut you off, placing his hand on your shoulder, “It’s the film industry. Nothing has to be accurate. Just accept it and welcome.” Chris walked over to his chair a few down from you, already opening his bag, placing the name card visible to the center of the circle. You placed yours in the same fashion. Shortly after, the door opened once more. Tom Holland walked through sporting a hoodie and jeans. When he looked up from his phone, he greeted Clara and Chris first, before finding his seat beside you. He turned to you, “You must be our Gwen? Im Tom.” He placed his hand out for you to shake, which you kindly did. He was much more handsome in person, in fact, it made your stomach knot up just looking at him. After introducing yourself, you removed the gift basket from the top of the table and placed it beside you, just as the other two had.

“First table read?” He asked, his british accent melting your heart. You nod slowly, “Yeah. I am honestly afraid I’ll be laughed out of the room by the end of the day.” You finished the last gulp of your coffee and pushed your chair back to stand up and walk over to the coffee station. Tom followed, to your surprise. “Listen, Can I tell you a secret?” He asked in a hushed tone, grabbing a glass mug from the table, giving you one after he tossed the paper cup into the trash. You nodded, “If they put you in a role higher than what you auditioned for, you must be good. I highly doubt you will be laughed out of the room.” Your face burned red as his kind words actually sunk into your mind. You shook your head. You had to be professional. These were the people you were going to see every day for a good year. No way could you be blushing at every Avenger walking through the door just trying to create a friendly environment.

“In fact, if you are laughed out of the room, I will walk out with you. Losing both of us. If not… you have to hang out with us after the table read? We all planned on going out for pasta. You aren’t one of those carbphobic ladies are you?” He asked, nudging you slightly. Friendly.

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anothernerdstudies · 4 years

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tag game

I always love doing these, and i’ve not done one in aaagggeeesss...Thank you so much @izobee-studies for the tag! 🌻

how tall are you? 5′10, so pretty tall for a girl!

what colour and style is your hair? Darkish brown, just sorta medium long and straight but super duper thick

what colour are your eyes? Dark brown!

do you wear glasses? Yes, and I have done since I was 9....I’m really short-sighted so get to watch the wonder on people’s faces as they try on my glasses and it just goes super blurry!

do you wear braces? No, I was told I could have them if I wanted (my bottom teeth are a bit crowded and wonky) but I didn’t want to have to struggle through grade 8 flute with the awful tone braces give you!

what’s your fashion sense? um whatever really, I wear a lot of jeans/skirts and jumpers, but I love wearing oversized shirts and combat boots!

full name? Isabel, but only my mum & grandma call me that (unless you’re one of my friends trying to annoy me)

where were you born? Leicester in the UK

where are you from and where do you live now? I’m from Bedfordshire, but I currently live just outside Birmingham for uni!

what school do you go to? The University of Birmingham!

what kind of student are you? a bad one I study chemistry, so perpetually busy when compared with most other students. I feel like i’m always finishing the next thing due, when I would like to feel like i’m caught up on stuff/revising!

do you like school? I love it, I love my degree and I love studying at uni 💛

favourite subject? Inorganic chemistry will always be my fave, we’ve just started a module on biomineralisation and materials which is really interesting and i’m loving that so far!

favourite tv shows? Brooklyn 99, The Good Place, Sex Education, Star Trek Voyager

favourite films? Any Pixar film, Scott Pilgrim vs The World, Star Trek (2009) has a very special place in my heart because I studied it in depth for A-level and the score is just amazing�� 💛

favourite book? uhhh I mean i’m currently reading the second book in the Villanelle series and it’s really good

favourite past time? I love watching TV with my friends, we all sit downstairs under blankets and binge watch something (currently Voyager). I also love knitting and baking!

do you have any regrets? I regret how I ended things with a guy last year, I don’t for a minute regret ending it but I think I should have gone about it in a different way

what’s your dream job? Something in audit/quality control? Maybe?

would you like to get married? Yes!

do you want kids? 100% Yes Definitely, and have known I do since I was 8!

how many? 3? Maybe? Definitely more than 1

do you like shopping? Yes, but my bank account.,,,,,does,,,,not

what countries have you visited? England, Wales, France, Spain, Germany, Belgium, Luxembourg, Austria, Liechtenstein, Switzerland! I’ve not been outside Europe yet, but I would love to go to Iceland and Japan!

scariest nightmare you ever had? probably just like generic death of everyone I love...I had a nightmare a few days ago that I had to write a philosophy essay with no preparation and that was terrifying

any enemies? no?? I don’t think so?????

self doubt? oh god so much

any significant other? I have so many significant friends in my life, I don’t really feel like I have room for a romantic relationship right now!

do you believe in miracles? No I don’t think so, but I do believe in luck and fate

how are you? I’m really great! I just submitted a placement application, and now I’m sat on my sofa in my pjs under a blanket listening to my housemates cook dinner! 🌻

I tag: @elliefluteelephant, @thoughtful-amicorn, @studeres and anyone else that wants to do it!

#anothernerdstudies #tag game #tag #get to know me #studyblr #uni #university #student #uni studyblr #uni student #university student #chemistry #chemistry student #chem student #studyspo #motivation #inspiration #productivity #positivity

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savsfm · 4 years

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madelaine petsch, twenty-three, cisfemale, she/her. — SAVANNAH WALSH was just spotted out and about in los angeles with their signature VINTAGE DENIM OVERALLS. the paparazzi tried to be subtle, but the ACTRESS caught them snapping pictures and DARTED INTO THE NEAREST SHOP. they jetted off to A SECLUDED, PRIVATE BEACHFRONT before getting asked about HER UPCOMING SERIES FINALE this time, which kinda coincides with their notorious WARY attitude towards fame, doesn’t it?

HELLO hello , i’m bay & this is my sweet lil savannah ! actress , sports fanatic , dog lover , confirmed adhd ball of energy ( as far as you know ) . if she had a label , it’d be the benevolent , and . . . well , let’s just get right into this !

· ☆ . 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚊𝚜𝚒𝚌𝚜 !

full legal name : savannah raine walsh . –– her mother had a hand in her middle name , and boy was that woman a hippie . age : twenty three . gender : cis-female . nicknames : sav , savvy , little walsh ( when in context with her older brother ) pronouns : ( she/her ) occupation : actress ; sophie turner career claim . inspiration : listen . . . there’s a reason i chose sophie . also jane sloane . details : growing up with just her father and her brother , for the most part , sav was very much the tomboy type , and despite her father’s history in the mlb , the walsh kids often spent time away from him and lived a relatively normal life . this made sav’s climb to fame a bit more of an adjustment , but people seem to love the down - to - earth way she has about her . after wrapping an iconic fantasy series ( think game of thrones ) and starring in a blockbuster ( think dark phoenix ) , everyone seems to be wondering what’s next for america’s favorite sweetheart .

· ☆ . 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔𝚐𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍 !

micah “mickey” walsh came from nothing . he was a natural born athlete with the drive of a kid who had nothing to lose and everything to gain , and he could’ve stepped right out of high school and onto a minor league baseball diamond , but his parents –– loony as they seemed –– insisted he go to college first , and he spent four years playing for vanderbilt , where he met his wife marnie . they fell in love , hard and fast , and by their senior year , they were throwing together a shotgun wedding in order to say their vows before her baby bump began to show .

the first few years were a whirlwind with mickey never giving up his dreams of having a family and having a professional baseball career. two years in , he was called up to the big leagues , and thus began the ICONIC career of mickey walsh , second baseman and a monster at bat . after three years in the mlb , the walsh family grew , and when SAVANNAH RAINE was born in chicago , illinois , wrigley field filled to capacity celebrated .

three years later , mickey was traded to the boston red sox , and the walsh family moved again . for some time , things were well , and they appeared to be living the dream . mickey loved boston , and boston loved the walshes , so much so , that contract after contract was renewed at fenway . when savannah was five , however , tragedy struck and her mother fell ILL . by the time sav was six , she’d succumbed entirely to her illness , leaving her and her brother , luke , to grow up without a mother .

the walsh family was devastated , mickey taking indefinite time off from his career to be with his children . his parents moved to boston shortly there after to help out with things around the house . mickey tried to keep a happy way about him , but after a season out , everyone could tell he was itching to get back , if only for the DISTRACTION of the game . . . so luke & sav grew up darting around fenway park . they attended every home game , stayed up to watch all of the away games , and they genuinely loved it . babysitters chased after them in exhaustion , and their grandparents did the most they could to raise them right .

savannah was always a FIERY little thing , and it had nothing to do with the red locks she’d inherited from her mother . she was joyful and playful , kind and a lot for any one person to handful . she asked too many questions and had QUITE a knack for theatrics . most of all , though , from a young age , she was simply good . . . and she really never expected to get into acting .

all of that energy had to go somewhere , though , and seeing as she was dramatic as is . . . she was enrolled in dance classes and school theatre projects . she took a liking to acting , starring in school plays and toying around writing her own short films . in high school , savannah was everywhere . . . spread far too thin . but hey ! keeping busy is what this girl lives for !

at sixteen , she enrolled at an acting camp during the summer in los angeles , and this is when she found out that her family and friends weren’t simply full of shit , like she’d assumed . she had talent , and she could make a career of acting . . . and unlike others , her rise was a bit too quick . she spent the summer going to auditions , and her BREAKOUT role was one of her first . . . v much a sansa on game of thrones type of deal .

sav finished off high school through a personal tutor and online schooling , but NOT going to college , for either of the walsh kids , was never an option . so she wagered a gap year from her father , so she could film seasons 2 & 3 of her show . other seasons were filmed during summer months , on breaks , and on long weekends . she SPED through her degree at new york university , and graduated in 3 , freeing up time to act full time .

there’s a GENUINE way about her that just . . . captures people , when she isn’t in character . in interviews , on talk shows , on red carpets . . . she’s just blatantly very soft , very sweet . skeptics think it’s an act , but anyone who KNOWS savannah knows that the only thing she fronts for the camera is constant energy . ya girl is tired . . . all the time , but will never admit to it !

after one of the most watched television series finales of all time and a franchise film –– along the lines of x-men/marvel –– stunning the box office , savannah is taking a moment to SLOW DOWN , because she’s never exactly done so . . . right now , she’s trying to figure out where to take her career next with a pile of scripts sitting at home and the world of the silver screen at her fingertips .

· ☆ . 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚘𝚗𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚢 & 𝚏𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚜 !

like i said , miss savannah is very outgoing , very bubbly . she’s good with people . . . but let it be known that she’s an introvert at heart . my girl is queen of leaving parties early .

definitely the lost-in-a-daydream type , and she’s always been a bit of a QUIET hopeless romantic . less grand gestures and magnificent romantic adventures , more of just . . . a genuine believer in love . which . . . CERTAINLY lines up with the way her life threw her for a loop , just after nineteen , and one (1) nate carpenter absolutely turned her world upside down . it took all of one chance meeting , and sav was completely smitten . despite the fact that their dads kind of sort of ?? hate each other , they are happily planning on spending the rest of their lives together , dipping out of Famous People Things by 9:30pm at the latest .

painfully honest . . . maybe a little too honest. if she’s not careful , she can occasionally say too much and put her foot in her mouth . no amount of media training can REALLY rein it in . . . so her publicist is well paid and honestly . . . she has a hell of a time keeping spoilers to herself , so a lot of interviews regarding big plot lines are often with castmates aksdjfha

has a dog named hercules ! not named after the greek hero . . . or the disney movie . . . but rather named after the massive beast in the sandlot . her hercules is a mutt she rescued as a pup . they’re not really sure what he is . . . only that he’s kinda big and definitely has some german shepherd in him .

sports fanatic af . her dad played professional baseball , and now he coaches for the new york yankees . her brother is a household name for hockey fans . . . and , well , catch her in a bright blue dodgers jersey with the name carpenter on the back , every baseball season !!

she hasn’t TOTALLY grown out of her tomboy-ness . she still wakes up early to go surfing , still does far better in beat up converse than she does in HEELS , insists on the thrill of doing her own stunts , curses like a damn sailor , and loves a good worn in denim . queen ! of ! rocking ! overalls !

thinks about her mom a lot , but tries not to do to the fact that it just fuckin . . . makes her sad and anxious . the grief , she can handle , but the nerves ? her mother died of breast cancer , and savannah STUBBORNLY refuses to get tested to see if she’s got the genetic marker for it .

still visits her grandparents in boston often

has a very .. . strange relationship with fame . she knows it’s fleeting , and she doesn’t really care for her private life being prodded into . in fact , that’s the worst part of it all . it’s taken a toll on her self - esteem , here and there , but for the most part. . . . she tries not to let it get to her . if she could do the acting thing without the fame , she honestly would .

ok that is . . . my girl savannah . i hope y’all love her as much as i do bc i am vERY EXCITED ok !! HIT ME WITH A LIKE & I’LL COME SWOOPING IN FOR PLOTTING !!

#luxuria:intro #* / . . . INTRO . / *#this is a DAMN mess y'all

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klaineharmony · 4 years

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Bring Me Love (This Christmas)

This little holiday fic came into my head while listening to John Legend’s “Bring Me Love,” which is such a cute holiday song. And my brain insisted that I should set in the Movie Stars AU, a Jack and Sarah AU that I have made a moodboard for - but I haven’t even written the main story yet! Just know that in this ‘verse, Jack and Sarah are both actors, and fell in love filming a movie together, and now split their time between California and New York. Kath is Jack’s agent and Spot is his publicist, while Davey is still Sarah’s brother and also her agent, while Race is her publicist. The rest, I hope, will explain itself. I know this is really past holiday time, but I hope you all enjoy it anyway, especially @radioactivepigeons, who very much wanted me to write it. :)

(Small warning: Spot and Jack swear once or twice in this fic. I can’t keep them from doing anything, honestly. Boys.)

Also tagging: @katherineisthebestpulitzer (I hope this makes your night better, hon!), @elozable, @wordshakerofgallifrey, @thelittleredheadedmusician, @whatstheproblembaby, @queenofbrooklyn, @waitformereprise, @allhailpancakelord. I hope you all had wonderful holidays!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A knock sounded at the apartment door, and Jack groaned from under his comforter on the couch.

Sarah was still away on a movie shoot, making a rom-com in Greece with Bill Hearst - Bill Hearst, for Christ’s sake, who was wealthy and charming and as gay as Rock Hudson - and Jack had been doing his best to ignore both Sarah’s absence and the holidays, save going over to the Jacobs’ once or twice during Hannukkah. (Esther would have been mortally offended if he hadn’t come when invited, and frankly, he couldn’t stand to think about how upset Sarah would have been as well. So he had gone, and Esther and Meyer had put up with his brooding, while Davey and Les tried to cheer him up, which had worked only to a degree.)

He had come home from his own movie shoot in New Zealand two weeks ago, shut himself into his and Sarah’s apartment, and done his best to become Ebenezer Scrooge.

He hadn’t put up any of their decorations. He had tried reading the new scripts Kath had sent him, but couldn’t focus on them, despite her repeated and insistent messages that he had to tell her (and Now, Please) if he wanted to audition for any of them - that was what she was there to do as his agent, after all. He had ignored Spot’s suggestions, as his publicist, that Jack do some kind of holiday fundraising and/or charity event - which normally Jack loved, as he always chose an organization involving children and loved to see their excitement over whatever he was able to do for them, or help do for them.

It was Christmas Eve today, and Sarah wasn’t home, and he was in no mood to do anything but sulk.

He shouldn’t be so pathetic, he knew. But he missed her - he missed her so much, and the holidays were dark and gloomy without her. They had been together for two years now, and being apart from each other for filming never seemed to get easier. This was the first holiday season they had been forced to be in separate places, and it hurt far more than Jack had expected, despite almost constant texting and Skype calls when they could negotiate the time difference.

The knocking came again, louder and more insistent, and Davey’s voice called to him from the other side of the door.

“Open up, Jack; I know you’re in there!”

Jack groaned again and tried to get up off the couch, landing in an ungraceful heap on the floor. Cursing, he untangled himself from the comforter and limped over to the door. When he opened it, he beheld not just Davey, but Spot, Race, Kath, and Charlie. Race and Spot were holding a large fir tree up between them, Kath had a box that was overflowing with decorations, and Davey had two shopping bags that were bulging with food. Charlie, improbably, was playing Santa Claus, as he was wearing a Santa hat and had two enormous bags that were stuffed with gifts.

“Wow, Jack, you look like shit,” Spot said, and Jack Jack rolled his eyes.

“Thanks so much for that, Spot. Isn’t it your job as my publicist to be a little more encouraging?”

“Actually, it’s my job as your publicist to tell you when you look like shit, and it’s even more my job as your friend,” Spot said, elbowing his way past Jack into the apartment.

“Come on in,” Jack said sarcastically.

“He’s right, you know, Cowboy,” Kath said, coming in next. “You look awful, and I agree - as your agent and your friend, it’s my job to tell you that. For heaven’s sake, go take a shower, would you?”

“Daaaaveeeey,” Jack whined, looking appealingly over at his best friend.

“Nope,” David said flatly, wearing his best Disapproving face. “You’re not getting any help from me, Jack. We’re here on Sarah’s orders not to let you wallow and ruin Christmas, which you’ve been making your best attempt at doing.”

“You might as well give in, Cowboy,” Race said from the hallway. “You know we all love Sarah more than you, and her orders come before yours.”

“Traitors,” Jack muttered, walking back into the apartment as Race and Spot began to maneuver the tree through the door. “Even you!” he said crossly, pointing at Charlie, who was maneuvering his crutches and the gift bags through the door. “My own brother!”

“Foster brother,” Charlie corrected him. “That’s all you get to claim when you’re being this much of an idiot.”

Jack threw himself back on the couch and folded his arms, pouting, while his friends went to work around him. Spot and Race managed to get the tree into its holder and in front of the large window in the living room. Kath began to carefully wind lights on it while Charlie unpacked the other decorations from her bag. Jack could hear Davey rummaging around in the kitchen, putting away his bags of food.

“Where are your and Sarah’s ornaments and decorations, Jack?” Charlie asked. “Kath brought some things we thought we might need, but part of Sarah’s directive was to make sure this place was decorated in full.” Jack glared at him, but Charlie just cocked his head and lifted his eyebrows.

“On the floor in the hall closet. Two big tubs,” Jack finally said, giving in. “They have both Hanukkah and Christmas ornaments in them.”

“On my way,” Charlie said, heading for the hall with Spot on his heels.

“Jack, in the name of all that is holy, go take a shower,” Davey said, reappearing from the kitchen. “Kath asked nicely; don’t make me play dirty.”

“And how do you think you’re goin’ to do that?” Jack said, challenging him..

“I have a whole tray of Mama’s rugelach with me,” David said. “If you do not go make yourself presentable, you do not get a single one.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” Jack said, staggered, for Esther’s rugelach were legendary, and Davey knew Jack’s weakness for them.

“I absolutely would,” David said firmly. “Shower. Now. And put on something nice, rather than those pajamas that look like you’ve been wearing them for a week.”

“They don’t just look like that,” Jack said under his breath, and Kath made a noise of disgust from her place at the tree.

“Eeeewww. I don’t know how I ever get anyone to believe you are suave and charming, Jack Kelly,” she said. “I don’t know how Sarah puts up with you. Ick.”

Spot reappeared with two boxes of ornaments in his arms, carrying them as though they weighed about as much as a box of feathers. “Jacky-boy, if you don’t come out of the shower looking like you are going to a photoshoot, I won’t help you do anything to repair the damage you’ve done by being a complete hermit over the holidays.”

“What damage? You can just say I’ve been taking a break, enjoying my family after finishing a film shoot early in December,” Jack said, glaring daggers at him.

“None of your usual fundraising and work with children? No appearance at Radio City Music Hall for the Rockettes show? No dinners out with your lovely girlfriend? Lack of sightings means lack of publicity, my friend, and you know it,” Spot shot back.

“No one expected me to be anythin’ other than a hermit before I met Sarah,” Jack grumbled.

“But then you did, and you changed, and so did she, and I know you wouldn’t have it any other way, so go get in the shower,” Race said in exasperation, coming out from behind the tree and pushing him down the hall.

“Fine, fine, I’m going,” Jack said, throwing up his hands.

He spent a long time in the shower, reveling in the hot water, washing his hair twice, and making sure the grime of the last week was off his body. By the time he felt clean, he was ashamed enough of his own behavior that he put extra effort into looking nice. He shaved carefully, styled his hair, and chose a pair of charcoal trousers and a light gray sweater that on the dressier side. His friends were here to try and cheer him up, because Sarah had known he would be missing her and told them to keep him company. The least he could do was try and be appreciative.

When he re-emerged into the living room, Kath had the lights on the tree and was busily adding decorations. Charlie was arranging gifts under the tree with Spot’s help. Race was carefully setting out Sarah’s menorah and glass Hanukkah ornaments on the mantle.

Charlie looked up and gave a whoop.

“There’s my brother! Your status has officially been restored,” he said sassily.

“Glad to know I haven’t been disinherited,” Jack chuckled.

“Well, look at that. Jack Kelly, movie star, decided to make an appearance,” Kath said, giving him an approving smile.

“I wouldn’t go as far as ‘movie star,’ but it’s definitely several steps up from ungroomed, sulky, and generally disgusting Jack Kelly,” Spot said, looking him up and down.

Davey emerged from the kitchen holding two rugelach. After doing his own once-over of Jack, he held out the desserts, which Jack took with alacrity.

“Much better. Sarah will absolutely not kill me now,” Davey grinned.

“Well, we can’t have that. It would be a bad look, Sarah killing her own brother and agent,” Jack quipped.

“Definitely a bad look,” Davey agreed.

“You two think you’re kidding, but heaven help me if Sarah ever decides to go on the rampage about anything,” Race said with a shudder. “She’s the sweetest person alive, until she isn’t.”

“That’s the truth,” Jack said, laughing fully. Sarah had a very long fuse, but when she truly got angry, her anger was a fearsome thing, and rather awe-inspiring. Jack, thankfully, had only had it directed at himself once or twice, generally with good reason.

A knock sounded at the door again, and Kath squealed, clapping her hands.

“Were we expecting someone?” Jack said suspiciously.

“We may have done some inviting before we all headed over here,” Kath called over her shoulder. She opened the door, and people began pouring in: Esther; Mayer; Davey and Sarah’s brother Les; Bryan Denton and Medda Larkson, who were two of their closest director friends; Mush Meyers, who was one of Jack’s closest actor friends and a fierce dancer besides; Specs (whose actual name was Mark but who made a living playing bookish character parts); Boots (who was Arvie, but famous for his parts in Westerns and crime dramas); Hannah, who had starred with Sarah in several period films, and a whole slew of others.

They all began greeting each other with hugs and exuberance, and Jack shot Race and Spot a look.

“You took this whole cheering up thing really seriously, didn’t you?”

“We told you, Jacky-boy, Sarah’s orders before all,” Spot said roguishly, and Jack rolled his eyes, but couldn’t help the smile pulling at his mouth.

“How did you get all of these people to come to my apartment on Christmas Eve?”

“We have magical powers of persuasion,” Race said, winking at him.

Jack shook his head. “I don’t want to know - but I appreciate it,” he said, smiling, and Race’s face relaxed into a true smile as he clapped Jack on the shoulder.

“We can’t have you bein’ lonely, Jack. What else are friends for?”

Jack reached out and gave him a hug, and they held each other for a moment before Race pulled away.

“You’re welcome. Come use your height to put the tree topper on, would you?” Race said, and Jack laughed.

“Always glad to be useful.”

The party was a smashing success from the start. Davey had laid out a massive amount of food in Jack’s kitchen, and Bryan and Medda immediately took charge of making drinks for everyone. Hannah helped Katherine finish the tree with alacrity, and Race took advantage of Jack’s large music collection, curating a tasteful rotation of holiday songs. Jack hadn’t seen many of the guests since before he left to shoot his latest film, and so he spent the next few hours catching up with everyone, amid much laughter and teasing. He was warmed through by everyone’s care for him; they had given up their Christmas Eve to come and make holiday cheer for him, and that meant the world.

By the time the third knock of the night came at his door, it was nearing midnight. Jack looked up at the sound and frowned; it was rare for anyone to just show up this late, but perhaps one of their other friends was a late arrival.

“Jack, you should get that!” Katherine called, winking and grinning at him from across the room. “It’s your house, after all.”

Her smile told Jack that she definitely knew who was at the door, and that did not necessarily bode well for him. Seriously, if she was playing some kind of prank on him -

He swung the door open and immediately felt all of the air leave his lungs.

“Merry Christmas, Cowboy,” Sarah said softly, smiling her smile that was just for him, the one Jack had been dreaming about for weeks. “Special delivery.”

“Sarah,” Jack breathed. “Oh, my God, Sarah.” He stepped forward and swept her into his arms, spinning her around as she laughed. “What are you doing here? You weren’t supposed to be home until next week!”

“We got done with shooting early,” Sarah said as he set her down. She reached up and stroked his face, and Jack leaned into her fingers. “We all wanted to be home for the holidays, and Weisel might be a temperamental jerk of a director, but he swore we could finish the shoot, and we did. Once I knew I could get here, I booked the first flight I could find.”

Jack pulled her back into his arms, burying his face in her hair and breathing in her smell, before he leaned down and kissed her. “Oh, Sarah, I missed you. I missed you so much. I’ve been a mess - I probably shouldn’t admit that, but I was - “

“I know,” Sarah said. “I was worried about you. Everyone was worried about you. It isn’t like you to be so depressed over the holidays, sweetheart.”

“It isn’t the same without you,” Jack murmured. “Holidays aren’t holidays without you, love.”

“Why do you think I had our family and friends bring as much of me as they could?” Sarah said gently, and the love in her eyes was unmistakable. “I’m always here, Jack,” and she placed her hand over his heart, “even when I can’t be with you, no matter what time of year it is.”

Jack kissed her again, and Sarah responded in kind. They kissed until they were breathless, and were finally interrupted by Davey, who stuck his head out of the apartment.

“There’s mistletoe in here that you two lovebirds can keep kissing under if you really want to,” he said, grinning. “But there’s a whole lot of people who would like to see you, Saz, and we have a holiday party to finish!”

“We’re coming,” Sarah said, smiling at her brother, and Davey nodded, winking at Jack before he withdrew.

“You set all of this up before you got home,” Jack said in realization. “Kath knew you were coming - Davey obviously did, too - did you have everyone in on it?”

“Yes,” Sarah admitted, her eyes sparkling. “I wanted to surprise you, and I was worried about you - I thought our family and friends and some holiday cheer would be the perfect way to lift your mood before I got here.”

“It’s the best present I’ve ever had,” Jack declared, kissing her one last time. “And you are the best part of it. Happy holidays, love.”

“Happy holidays, Jack,” Sarah said, and she took his hand in hers and led him inside, where their family was waiting for them.

#Newsies #Newsies 1992 #Sarah Jacobs #Jack Kelly #Jarah #otp: it's the same sun as here #fic #Klaineharmony writes #Bring Me Love #holiday fic

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jessahmewren · 5 years

Text

“One of Us,” Queen/Bohemian Rhapsody Fan Fiction/ Poly!Queen Week: Day Four

Summary: Roger joins Queen and realizes that means more than just joining a band.

Prompt: One of the boys is struggling with mental illness, and the other three are there to support them.

Rating T: for totally tame

Pairing: John Deacon/Freddie Mercury/Brian May & Eventually John Deacon/Freddie Mercury/Brian May/Roger Taylor

Words: 2505

Also on Ao3

--0-0-0-

Roger groaned into the pillow, cracking one eye open to find only the chill darkness of his bedroom. He reached over and grabbed his phone from the nightstand, swiping a finger across the screen. It was barely 3am.

“Bloody hell,” he muttered to himself. He’d hoped he would make it until daybreak. This time he’d slept only a few hours. The night before had only been marginally better.

He flopped back into bed, swiping through to access the calendar on his phone. There, in stark white against a black background was the appointment for his audition for a new band. “5:30,” he spoke in the quiet. “I’ll feel bloody awful with no sleep,” he said to no one.

And you’ll play awful, too, a little voice within him whispered. But that was just the beginning of his doubts, as a tidal wave of anxieties began to assault him from all directions…insecurities about his drumming, his intellect, even his looks. He pressed his palms against his ears to will them quiet before swinging his legs over the side of the bed.

Getting up would help. It always did. He could never rest in bed unless he was sleeping. He had to be moving. Always had to be moving.

Roger padded to the bathroom, then to the kitchen to get a glass of water. On the counter lay his bag from the pharmacy. He frowned at it, then headed into the living room where he sagged against the couch where he drifted into a fitful sleep.

When he woke up, it was half past nine, and he was late for art appreciation. He hurriedly scooped up his things and ran off to class.

The school day passed in a whirlwind…a dizzying array of lecture after lecture that left Roger drained and no less informed. He had trouble concentrating, and the lack of sleep only made things worse.

Before he realized it, it was nearing 5:30 and he was both wired from anxiety and dead on his feet. He popped into an on campus coffee shop for a quick shot of caffeine, hoping it would equalize him somewhat.

That bitter liquid made him jittery, but gave him the energy he needed to hold his eyes open. He tossed the cup and made his way over to the rehearsal hall where the auditions would be held.

He stood in front of the large double doors, his sticks in his back pocket. A cold sweat sprang out over his entire body, and he could feel a blush creep up his chest. It became harder to breathe, and he began to pray to God or whoever was listening “not now, please not now” as he felt the tell-tale signs of a panic attack. He closed his eyes and reminded himself that he would be playing soon, and playing music was the only thing that ever truly helped.

The double doors opened, cool air dusting his overheated skin. A tall, curly-haired man greeted him, a kind smile on his face. “Hi mate. You must be here to audition.”

Roger still couldn’t speak, so he just held up his sticks, a wry grin on his face. He’d gotten very good at faking it over the years.

“Come on in then…meet the boys.” The man gestured him inside the small auditorium space, and Roger’s eyes immediately settled on the very nice drumset setup…the drumset he would soon be playing. His throat began to relax.

“I’m Brian, by the way. And this is John and Freddie.”

Roger turned around, surveying the remaining men. They were all…beautiful. He wished he had another word for them, but it was true. It was as if they had all been grown on some freakishly experimental farm where only amazingly good looking people are produced. He felt sorely out of place.

“Roger,” he half croaked. “My name’s Roger.”

“Lovely,” one of them spoke. He had the blackest hair Roger had ever seen, and it shined like a mirror. “How long have you been drumming, darling?”

Roger stood a little straighter. “Since I was a kid.”

The other man, Roger believed his name was John, the one with the long brown hair and cute bum (yes, he’d looked), smiled at him sweetly. “Let’s see what you’ve got Roger.”

Without another word, Roger crossed to the drumset, settling behind it. Instantly, all of his anxieties melted away. A peace fell over him, and for a moment he felt like the only person in the room. He set about tuning the drums.

Brian frowned at him. “What are you doing?”

Roger looked at him curiously. “Tuning them? They’re really out mate. Have people been playing them like this all day?”

Brian looked at the others with an interesting expression, and then simply watched Roger as he made quick work of tuning the drums. Then he began his audition.

Roger quickly became lost in the music, lost in the way his body became an instrument to produce sound, how he could feel the vibrations of the drums through his hands, reverberating in his ears...with his lightning fast rhythms he created a wall of sound rising through the small auditorium that left the three men watching a little breathless.

Roger finished his solo, holding up his sticks and finally realizing he was back in the auditorium space. He’d been so lost in the music he’d forgotten himself for a moment. He looked up to see Brian, John, and Freddie staring at him, a bit of wonder on their faces.

Instantly, Roger became anxious. Was that good enough? Did he make a mistake? How did it even sound? The old insecurities came rushing back, self-doubt and anxiety a trusted friend that would never leave him.

Brian cleared his throat, interrupting his racing thoughts.

“Thank you Roger. Can we uh…have a few moments alone?”

Roger paled. “Yeah, sure,” he said quickly. That’s it you really fucked it up you really blew it “I’ll just be outside,” he said to the three of them.

He slid down the wall to sit on the floor, his knees pulled up to his chest. He needed a cigarette, but he was certain he couldn’t smoke inside the building. He began thinking about what he would do when he went home. Go to bed, his inner voice supplied. Go to bed and forget this day ever happened. Roger agreed.

Roger sat for a few more moments before the door to the auditorium hall opened and John poked his head out. He smiled sweetly, and Roger noticed for the first time he had a cute little tooth gap. No use noticing now, he thought. I’ll never see any of these chaps again.

He walked in with his sticks in his hand, facing the three of them. He shuffled his feet a bit, suddenly interested in the toes of his sparkly Converse.

“Welcome to Queen,” Freddie said dramatically.

Roger’s head shot up, and he blinked a few times, not understanding.

Brian laughed. “You’re in. We love you. Now let’s go to the pub and celebrate.”

---

Roger didn’t really do public places well, but he went along with his new friends because it was really important to him that he didn’t disappoint them. So he sat in a booth at the Lucky Horseshoe nursing a beer and hedging questions about himself.

“What are you studying,” John asked. His hair was more of a golden brown than a dark brown, and Roger wanted to run his fingers through it. “Um, Biology,” he said a little tight-lipped.

“Do you like it?”

Roger shrugged. He really hated himself, how boring he was. Maybe if he drank some more beer he could be engaging like Freddie, Freddie with the beautiful kohl-lined eyes who was laughing, high and sweet. Or maybe he could be charming like Brian, with the lustrous curls and pretty hands who was talking about the stars. God, he was boring as hell.

“It’s ok,” he elaborated, but not by much. Come on Rog…try. “I um, wanted to be a dentist, but that didn’t work out.”

John smiled at him, and something warm spooled in his gut. “And why is that love?”

Roger found himself smiling back. “Too many maths.”

Brian overheard him, and placed a hand on his arm. Where he touched him was warm and a bit rough…Roger could feel the callouses where Brian played the guitar, and it sent a thrill through him. He shifted a bit in his seat.

“Love, if you need help with maths, all you have to do is ask,” Brian said sweetly. He smelled of beer and of something uniquely him, like cinnamon and earth.

Freddie smiled, his toothy grin stretching over his soft plum lips. “Brian here is our resident genius.” Freddie teased a finger over Brian’s thin arm, rubbing it softly, and Roger’s mouth fell open. “Our little astrophysicist.”

Roger swallowed. Could they be together? The thought sent him spiraling. They certainly would make a beautiful couple. A pang of jealousy shot through him. Why couldn’t he ever get someone to love him like that?

Because you’re ugly.

His eyes welled with tears, but he hid them behind his mug of beer.

Brian grabbed Freddie’s hand, playfully toying with his fingers. “Not yet, darling. But one day. Besides, what would I do without my artist and my engineer?”

John grinned widely, falling into Freddie as he rested his head on his shoulder. He nuzzled him softly and then planted a soft kiss on his cheek. Roger gasped quietly, eyes wide. He had it wrong. They all were together.

And you’re the odd man out.

Roger clenched his fist to keep the intrusive thoughts at bay, but more often than not, they won.

Freddie nuzzled John back, his eyes locking on Roger. “So you got tired of dentistry dear…I don’t blame you. So what do you plan to do with your degree?”

Roger’s hand tightened on his mug. “I uh, haven’t decided.”

Brian touched him again, this time on the shoulder, and a shiver went through him. “There’s nothing wrong with that love. You’ve got plenty of time.”

John tipped his mug until it was empty. “Well you’re one hell of a drummer,” John said a little drunkenly. “You could always do that.”

Roger blushed, looking down like he always did whenever anyone complimented him.

Freddie playfully slapped John on the arm. “You’ve gone and embarrassed him now Deaky. And he’s so pretty when he blushes.”

You look like a tomato when you blush.

“You don’t have to say that,” Roger said hurriedly.

Freddie just blinked. “Say what dear? That you’re attractive? I bloody well might. You’re fucking gorgeous.”

“Freddie—“ Brian began.

“No, Brian…looks like our friend here might need to hear it.”

Roger wished the pub floor would open up and take him into hell. His face was burning, and tears were threatening to spill down his cheeks.

Freddie reached across the table and tipped his chin up. “Roger, darling. Look at me.”

Roger managed to look up, his lip trembling.

“You know how beautiful you are? Hmm? And I’m not talking about just on the outside, darling, but on the inside too. I know we just met but I can tell you’re a good person.”

Roger couldn’t stop the tears from flowing hotly down his face, and Freddie wiped them with his thumb. He sniffed miserably, trying to keep his head up under Freddie’s gaze.

“I think you’re beautiful,” John added, his little tooth gap flashing.

“So do I,” Brian said, warm calloused fingers wrapping around his arm.

No intrusive thoughts opposed.

---

The next day Roger couldn’t get out of bed. It’s not that he didn’t want to; he knew he had school, and he needed to eat and shower and he had band practice, but a heavy blackness had settled over him, sucking his energy and will to do anything other than sleep. So that’s what he did.

Until a knock came at the door. Several knocks, actually, and since the door was unlocked, they came right in.

Freddie, John and Brian entered Roger’s flat with worried expressions on their faces. When Roger refused to return their calls and messages, they decided to go check on him where they had dropped him off from the pub the night before. But as they entered the flat, all was quiet.

The flat was a little messy, with clothes strewn about the living room. There were no dishes in the sink, however suggesting Roger hadn’t been eating properly. And there was a bag of medicine from a week ago that hadn’t been touched.

“Found him!” Freddie cried out from a back bedroom as he stood over Roger’s sleeping form. He had the covers pulled up tight, and his blond hair was messily spread over the pillow.

Brian stood over Roger, shaking him gently. “Roger…Roger…it’s us. Are you ok?”

“Leave me alone,” Roger grumbled. “I just want to sleep.”

John came in with the bag of medicine. “Are you supposed to be taking these pills Roger? They were filled a week ago.”

Roger focused on the young man holding his bag of medicine, and he became suddenly angry. “Fuck off!” he cried out. “I didn’t ask for you to be in my personal business like this!”

Brian soothed the hair back from his forehead, the seething, spitting Roger shrinking back from his touch.

“Ah, love you are our business now. You’re in our circle. We care about you whether you like it or not. Now let’s get you sat up so you can have a bit of food, yeah?”

Roger scowled at him. “I don’t want anything, Brian. I don’t want you here. I just want to be left alone.”

John sat down on the edge of the bed. “I know you do. But that’s not what you need right now.”

Roger crossed his arms, looking at John defiantly. “And how do you know what I need?”

John looked at him sympathetically. “Because these prescriptions are for anxiety and depression love, and being alone only makes those worse.”

Brian leaned over and kissed his head, and Roger’s frown dissipated, his face going lax under Brian’s gentle touch.

Freddie had disappeared into the kitchen and returned with a sandwich and some juice, and he set it on a tray over Roger’s lap. He kissed him on the cheek. “When you’re feeling better, we’ll go out properly, but for right now, this is a start. Eat all of it darling. It was made with love.”

John stepped forward with a pill bottle. “And after your sandwich, you’re gonna take this medicine. And you’ll do the same thing every day. Eat. Take medicine. Repeat.”

Roger looked up, his eyes large. “Why are you doing this?”

Freddie smiled. “Because you’re one of us now darling.” He moved to put an arm around John and Brian, pulling them close. “And we always take care of our own.”

-0-0-0-

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