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irenethewoman · 6 months

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Mrs. Shelby- Chapter 18 - The Russians

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I grabbed Tommy's sleeve, whispered, "Tell Arthur no one blames him. I actually thought his speech was okay."

Tommy seemed to smile, a twitch at the corner of his mouth. I sat at the head, watching my husband and a guest lock eyes, the man looking away before turning towards me.

"Serve the dinner," I said, signaling the maid. I arranged the seating myself; I didn't know that man, definitely not within the guest range. Better not be Churchill; if he ruins my wedding night, there will be trouble.

"Good evening, Polly."

"Good evening, you look dazzling, dear." Polly handed me a drink; we chatted by the bar. "You were late because... hmm? Oh, you're still so easily embarrassed."

I touched my warm cheeks, murmuring, "Tommy ruined my favorite dress."

I could tell Polly hesitated, feeling I had the right to know what would happen tonight but not wanting to spoil my wedding night.

Seems like today is truly unforgettable.

"Is something going to happen tonight?" I asked. "Tommy has been anxious all day."

"You're too sharp, Darby. It makes people feel inadequate." Polly shook her head, sadly smiling. "Russian royalists, you know."

I nodded, aware of the exiled Russian aristocrats wandering in Europe, seeking support for a futile attempt to reclaim their lost power.

"Is Tommy doing business with them?" What kind of business? Alcohol, horse racing, or heroin?

Polly nodded. "Starting tonight."

Heavens! After all this time in exile, couldn't they wait one more night!

"Dani, Tommy didn't tell you to avoid worrying you. He prefers facing things alone." Seeing my strange expression, Polly explained.

"Not anymore, Polly. I'm Shelby, Diana Shelby."

Polly looked at me with a mix of warmth, pride, and concern, like a mother watching her just-married daughter. "Thomas Shelby made quite a catch, dear."

"Ladies and gentlemen, time for the newlyweds' dance." The announcer's voice interrupted; I adjusted my dress.

"Go, Diana, you can at least enjoy this dance."

Tommy held my waist, almost making me lean into him. I loved being close to him, just like how Charlie loves sticking to me.

"Do you hide some little secrets with your wife, Mr. Shelby?"

Tommy quickly responded, explaining and confessing, "They came uninvited."

"Don't make too much noise, Tommy. This involves secrecy; don't let those drunken bags of wind notice. Do you need me to do anything?"

"Enjoy the dance and our wedding night, Mrs. Shelby." He kissed my lips. "I'm sorry this happened on your first day as Mrs. Shelby."

"It's not your fault, Tommy."

As the announcer allowed everyone to join the dance, Tommy was about to leave.

We exchanged a kiss. "Stay safe, and smoke less, Tommy."

"You too."

I watched his solitary figure with worry.

I wanted to advise him to stop because once we entered the game of power, there was no turning back. We'd become pawns, climbing the peaks of power to survive. But I didn't want to worry him, disturb his thoughts.

I'll be with him. Even if hell awaits, I'll jump with him.

This is why I chose Mei Carlton and Edward Collins as our children's godparents—to protect Charlie if anything happened to us. "It's over, right?"

I hugged Tommy from behind; he covered my hands with his.

"Yes."

I wanted to ask about Churchill and the king's stance, what kind of business they were getting into, and the possibility of us extricating ourselves from the political mess afterward. But what came out of my mouth was different.

"So, it's finally our wedding night, right?"

When he entered my body, I could see his face clearly. His blue eyes were filled with apologies and tenderness. I raised my hand, touching his face. He must be tired, planning and worrying. There were traces of white hair at his temples. He's only 31...

He's tired enough. Let's talk about tomorrow another day.

I leaned back, kissing him.

"You've worked hard, my husband."

I held Charlie, watching Tommy and them leave at the door.

"Say goodbye to Dad, Charlie." I waved Charlie's chubby little hand. "And Uncle Arthur, Uncle John, and Aunt Polly."

"No need to wait for me recently; get some rest early." Tommy kissed me, patting our son's head.

I didn't expect to end up being a housewife so similar to my mother.

Tommy was determined not to involve me in their illicit income, and he kept political matters from me. With Charlie being our only child and a target for many, I couldn't trust a nearly stranger to care for him.

I wanted to work alongside my husband, manage the business, negotiate with politicians. But for now, my role was to provide a stable rear, ensuring he had no worries.

Looking at the mountain of letters on the desk, remembering last night, Tommy rejected my request to join the company. He wanted me to run the Shelby Charity Foundation.

"Tommy, you know I want to help..."

"Building the Shelby Charity Foundation is a huge help, my dear."

"You can assign the legitimate business to Michael, or Finn, or ask Ada to come back..."

"Dani," he cupped my face, looking into my eyes, "if our son ever wonders about our work, let him despise me alone."

"You're a Baroness in the clear, the perfect mother for our child. Leave all the troubles to me. If I'm not around..."

I quickly covered his mouth. "Don't talk nonsense on such a joyous day."

"You go back to London or Yorkshire, live a clean life with Charles." Tommy removed my hand, gently kissing it.

"You won't... we're going to live a long life together, remember? You'll be fine, nothing will happen..."

He just looked at me.

We were both afraid of death because it was within reach now. It was real, so it was terrifying.

Desperately, I thought.

John has stirred up trouble with the Italians.

Tommy didn't tell me, so I pretended not to know. But, in reality, I have my own sources in both Birmingham and London, providing information about politics, social affairs, and "business."

"How was your day?" Tommy, unusually home early, lay on my lap, eyes closed, enjoying my massage.

"Not too bad. Charlie was well-behaved today." I raised an eyebrow, even though he couldn't see. "Oh, I think we can make some changes to our courtyard. I want to plant a rose garden and set up a swing. The charity event had a good response; everyone I wrote to replied." Well, isn't that normal? Tommy rules Birmingham, and I'm the Baroness from London. A powerful alliance, making the Shelbys the most sought-after.

"A busy day, huh?" Tommy sat up. "To reward your hard work, my dear, close your eyes."

"Oh, come on! After all these years, you still come up with these odd surprises." I said it, but I obediently closed my eyes.

"Just because we've been married for ages doesn't mean we don't need surprises, Shelby. Okay, open your eyes."

Before me lay a Tanzanite necklace, a large uncut Tanzanite hanging beneath a diamond necklace.

"Where did you get this?" I'd never had such jewelry before. Usually, I carefully cut gemstones into beautiful patterns and set them in gold or silver grooves. All the diamonds on my most precious diamond necklace were cut from a large diamond.

"You can wear it to the charity dinner." Tommy embraced me from behind.

"Charity event? Tommy, this is too grand." I turned to him, smiling, then looked down at the gem on my neck. It looks like a miner's windfall... but it's really beautiful.

"This is damn Birmingham, Dani. Only those unfortunate folks care about taste. When meeting the king, I won't let you look like a nouveau riche."

"What should I give you in return, Tommy?" I pushed him onto the couch, then pinned him down, fingers circling his abdomen. I watched the movement of his Adam's apple with satisfaction.

He glanced at my chest, not with good intentions. "Anything will do."

The next day, Tommy pulled me out of bed.

"I'm tired..." I waved my hand with my eyes closed. "Don't bother me."

But he persistently woke me up. "Aren't you going to work?" I sat on the bed, looking at him gloomily with disheveled hair.

"I'm off today, accompanying you and Charlie."

"You don't have to..."

"I know you won't be a resentful wife, I know you won't blame me, you can handle Charlie alone..." Tommy held my face, "but I need to do this. I am your husband, Charlie's father, and this is what a husband and father should do, right?"

"..."

It made me uncomfortable. Tommy's love for me was always silent, seen in the details. Now it's like a last-minute request before death.

"Tommy," I stopped him, and he turned. "What's wrong?"

"I won't let you die. I swear, we can start over from scratch if necessary." I hope he lets go of this matter.

I'm serious. If Churchill or others dare to harm Tommy, with my own strength, I can save him. As long as he's alive, there's hope, and we can start over from scratch.

His gaze softened. "I believe you, Dani, I believe."

... He doesn't believe, he's just comforting me.

"The police from London came to the office and took Tommy away?"

"Tommy said it was the Russians." Although Tommy warned John not to call me, he still did.

"... Tommy will come back, don't worry."

It's just a threat. They'll release my husband; they still need him to work for them.

After hanging up with John, I called Churchill.

For Tommy and me, as long as there is no danger to life, doing business with anyone is no different. We don't care about each other's identity. But the king, and Churchill, are different. They staunchly oppose the Bolsheviks. Besides fearing their political system collapsing like Russia's, they don't want a government with different demands to exist. In the recent war, Russia and Britain stood together. If another war broke out, no one knew if today's Russia would stand opposite Britain.

But these things can't be known to the public. So they found Tommy, wanted him to act secretly.

Arms, or money. I lean more towards the former.

Just like what Tommy did before, rob arms, then sell them.

Even though I've always thought my sister-in-law Linda is a bit of a charlatan, she said one thing right, "Devil's work is done in the dark." Doing things in the dark means safety can't be guaranteed. You can kill in the dark, and someone might be waiting to kill you from behind.

"Madam, young master Charles is looking for you again." Jenny's appearance interrupted my thoughts.

I followed her to Charles's nursery, picked him up, and soothed him. Charles's pillows and blankets were all wrinkled by his fussiness. I handed my son to the maid, started tidying the bed, and unexpectedly found a piece of paper. I picked it up, read the words on it, and felt my blood freeze.

It was a card from the crematorium, with "Rest in peace, Charles Shelby" written on the back.

Tommy came back, rushing into Charles's bedroom.

I followed him, standing by his side.

"Are you looking for this?" I handed him the note I found this afternoon. "We are being watched, Tommy."

"They threatened my son, Tommy. To be honest, Tommy, if I could, I really want to kill them all. Damn Russians, monarchists, Russo-British War." I leaned on Charles's small bed, looking out of the window, softly speaking. "What a nonsense about restoring the monarchy, and they have to resort to threatening a child. Restore? Hmph..."

"Nothing will happen." Tommy hugged me.

They know each other, and I think I know where the gem on my neck came from.

"Your lady is beautiful, just like the gem on her neck."

"Thank you." I smiled confidently, accepting the Duchess's ambiguous compliment. I'm not the delicate rose protected so well by Tommy. She doesn't even know me but wants to provoke me.

Rest assured, as long as I'm alive, Thomas Shelby won't sleep with you. He only loves me.

Tommy tried to get me away, called Ada to take me, and I obediently went elsewhere to talk to others.

"You have to take off the necklace." Tommy suddenly said to me.

"Why?" I stared at him.

It's not that I'm unwilling, but this big gemstone disappearing from my neck will surely cause endless inquiries. I hate trouble.

But he insisted.

"Okay, if it makes you feel better." I lowered my head, letting him help me take off the necklace.

"I just want you safe, Dani. I need you." Tommy kept using sweet words to comfort me.

"I'm not angry, dear," I kissed his lips, "I know... I know, Mr. Shelby, all I ask for is

this." That we all live peacefully.

Unconsciously, people in the hall are almost gone.

Suddenly, a waiter shouted, "For Arthur!" Holding a gun, he aimed at Tommy. Arthur lunged, but the man still fired.

It can't be Tommy! No...

After the gunshot, I lay in Tommy's arms with one hand covering my bloody shoulder.

"Tommy, it hurts... Tommy... hurts..." I smelled the gunpowder in the air, along with the scent of blood, mixed with the perfume on my body, Tommy's tobacco, champagne, and floral scents.

"Tommy..." I felt my eyelids heavy...

You have to live well; this family needs you...

#cillian murphy #tommy shelby #tommy shelby x reader #peaky blinders #thomas shelby #peaky blinders fanfiction #tommy shelby imagine #fanfiction #thomas shelby x reader #tommy shelby fanfic

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shimmershae · 4 years

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Remember all the ship imagery we got in the early episodes of this season? Carol literally sailing toward Daryl in a boat, the ships all over her bedding, the helm in the background as Daryl takes her dinner and a flower, and Daryl’s comments about poking holes in any boats she might use to leave him again? Well. It just occurred to me, when Carol had her emotional breakthrough and decided to fight and stick around and work toward putting her demons to rest, i.e. go home to Daryl, it was after a boat literally fell on top of her. And maybe it was an odd little coincidence, but somehow I don’t think so.

I mean. The first instance, with Carol literally sailing toward a waiting Daryl was lightly tossed about as our ship finally, well, setting sail. I know I had a lot of fun with the idea personally. But shining a different light on it, I think Carol ‘coming home’ to Daryl was twofold. One, she was literally coming home, albeit somewhat reluctantly because she still hadn’t figured out a way to reconcile her feelings on Henry’s death and all the traumas it pushed to the surface nor all of the emotions being back in the circle of those who know her best kept ever present. And two, it showed that Daryl is not only her person or place of stability, but that he perhaps has already reached the point where he knows exactly what he wants and that’s Carol herself. I mean, he’s literally right there, ready and wanting to be her port in the storm.

Yeah, I don’t know if I’m explaining myself well. I’m sure someone else can piggyback on this and do a much better job, but I’m going to keep spit balling okay? Okay.

The boats on Carol’s bedding were a nice little touch, don’t you think? Especially since Carol’s been shown to dream about Daryl in that bed. Not in exactly the way that some of us might want her to, lol, at least not onscreen because our girl did say to Michonne that her dreams were good and that’s why they hurt so very much--why oh why they cut that scene from the aired episode I’ll never understand, unless they wanted to play close to the vest with their hand for a little bit longer (unneeded IMHO since those that don’t want to see are not going to see what’s staring them right in the face until it bites their noses off, but I digress) but still. It’s been shown and suggested she dreams about Daryl when she sleeps in that bed. Basically, she only allows herself to semi-admit what she most wants in her dreams, and I don’t remember if we see that bedding again later or not but I did find it kind of weird at the time that she was sleeping on top of the covers. It’s almost like she doesn’t want to embrace (cover up) the comfort that her subconscious offers her, huh? Psst. Daryl. Or, you know, literally stop running and relax enough to truly let her mind and emotions settle.

I’m digging a little deep aren’t I? Oops. Sorry if I sound semi-delusional. I am somewhat sleep deprived. But truly. My brain cannot accept that all of this is mere coincidence so the hamster wheel is trying to theorize and this is what you get. Sorry not sorry, lol.

So where was I?

So basically Daryl’s had his epiphany. The years Carol spent by another man’s side weren’t something he reacted to with the usual or stereotypical signs of jealousy because he’s Daryl. He wants the best for those he loves even at his own expense, but there was some deep-seated stuff there he maybe didn’t recognize right away or likely, as with Carol, didn’t want to immediately confront.

Sigh. These two and their shitty self-esteems. Whatever are we going to do with them?

Putting the rest behind a cut because this is about to get even longer. Read at your own risk. ;)

Shit may not be settled, but Daryl’s more settled and mature than he’s ever been and he knows what he wants: Carol. So he’s there waiting on Carol’s boat to sail in. He’s right there. Waiting on Carol to have the same epiphany or reach the same conclusion or not, whatever may come, because Dude loves her. He might not have put words to it, but he’s shown her and us in so very many ways. Carol might have come to him on the boat, but make no mistake. At this point in time? Our man is the captain of this ship. He’s standing at the helm. Get it? The helm in the background? Er, I’ll shut up before I make myself sound even nuttier, lol.

Let’s talk a little bit more about Carol, shall we?

So Carol. She knows what or who she wants too. She just hasn’t dared to voice it. Even in those woods, when her subconscious in the form of Alpha pressed her to admit the truth she wouldn’t say the words out loud. It’s almost like her keeping those feelings secret is her way of protecting Daryl from the ‘monster’ she feels like she’s become.

Oh sweet baby girl. My heart aches so much for her. She just has no idea. Really and truly no idea.

Listen. Daryl was completely serious about poking holes in all them boats. And call this a reach if you want to, but I think that little comment of his was twofold as well. More on that a little later.

Dude isn’t all that well-versed in matters of the heart, especially with somebody that means so very much to him. So understandably, he’s not going to automatically get everything right. And let’s be real here. He’s still so much more of a show than tell kind of guy so that’s what he’s been doing. Showing Carol how much he cares. Demonstrating his love by being there for her, by having her back, and by calling her on her bullshit (but only after she’s taken up all the slack and put them both and their communities in an arguably untenable position). He wants her to stay and he’s done everything within his power to make her want to stay--except say those three little words.

Which circles me back around to the two-fold part of the holes in the boat comment. You know where I’m going with this don’t you? Don’t you, lol? There’s someone else Daryl hasn’t said those three little words to or about, even after Carol herself tried her best to put them in his mouth. Our guy went so far as to tell our thick-headed Queen that it’s not like that, not at all, effectively poking the biggest of many holes in the most present ship. I say present for lack of any better moniker. Let’s just say that it’s the most threatening in Carol’s mind and subconscious because literally the only person acting like it’s a real thing is Carol. Kelly’s little wink and nod isn’t something I’m going to take on gospel because let’s just say a thousand and one ships could be launched at a teasing sister’s behest and only one or two be manufactured out of more than popsicle sticks and imagination. How many cute guys did your little sisters have you in love with when they simply offered you a smile or kind word? I literally cannot keep track of how many would-be suitors my little sister would have had me have, lol. The list is simply too long. It’s one of the things little sisters are so very (obnoxiously) good at--spinning fantasy into a reality of their own making. But yeah, I’m going off on another tangent. In case you haven’t noticed, I’m very good at that.

My point is this, hahaha. Daryl’s not just willing to poke holes in all the literal boats to keep Carol with him. The man has also, in his Daryl way, poked holes in the notion that he could feel something romantically for another woman. Because it isn’t like that. Not for the captain of this ship. He knows what he wants whether he’s managed to use his words yet or not.

Carol’s trickier because she’s not reached the same sort of zen Daryl has yet. She’s still operating under the erroneous assumption that she’s not good enough for her Mr. Crossbow and has been doing her level-best to steer him toward what she considers his perfect match even though her subconscious has been baiting her to just fess up to her buried truth--that she wants and loves Daryl just as much as he wants and loves her.

But you know what happened?

A literal boat fell on top of our girl’s hard head and knocked some sense into her. Honestly. While the circumstances were actually heartbreaking--our baby girl’s emotions have been so fucked up for so long over something that couldn’t necessarily be helped in the world she’s been surviving in--I have to laugh now,putting it into this newfound perspective. Kang literally bashed my baby over the head with her demons and the truth of her feelings. Seriously. She held all her so-called ‘failings’ up in her face and had her confront them before confronting her with her biggest fear. That fear being, you guessed it, that she lose Daryl.

You know what happened from that point.

Deciding that she could never let that happen, Carol had her own epiphany--it’s never too late--and she decided to fight and she went home to Daryl. Really went home to him and yeah, things are still up in the air because Angela Kang wanted to blue ball us just a wee bit more but I can’t be the only one hearing those drums break for their big solo in that old Phil Collins song, lol.

I can almost taste canon on my tongue and hoo boy is it sweet. A little bit spicy too.

Damn the coronavirus. Seriously. Send that thing right back to hell.

I don’t know about y’all but I need that finale yesterday.

Anyhoo. If you found your way to this last sentence after this mega stream of consciousness hooey, bless you. If you feel inclined to add your own thoughts to my sleep-deprived thoughts, be my guest.

Later, lovelies.

Keep calm and Caryl the fuck on.

#The Walking Dead #Caryl #Carol x Daryl #Carol Peletier #Daryl Dixon #Melissa McBride #Norman Reedus #gorgeous people #my precious babies in love #things that make me smile and cry #and giggle and giggle #for reasons #oh my heart

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ofsinnersandsaints · 3 years

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palate cleanser (aka rebound sex)

rating: E total word count: 5596 one shot

Raven divorces her cheating husband, and after everything is finalized, she fucks her divorce attorney who is none other than John Murphy.

AO3

Raven hated that she was here, that she had to do this at all, but after finding out her husband of eight years was cheating on her, what else was she supposed to do? He’d begged her to stay, to work it out, telling her over and over how he was willing to fight for them.

She’d almost been convinced by that until she remembered he was the reason all of this had happened in the first place. If he’d really wanted to fight for them, he wouldn’t have given into temptation and broken his marriage vows.

Jesus, he’d signed a fucking rental lease with his girlfriend and now he wanted to fight for their marriage?

Bullshit.

Feeling more certain about her decision she texted Bellamy to let him know she was there. He was the one who had recommended the lawyer she was about to see, they’d apparently gone to school together and Bellamy said he was the guy to go to.

I’M HERE. JUST WAITING. ANYTHING I NEED TO KNOW BEFORE I MEET HIM?

BELLAMY: HE CAN BE AN ASSHOLE, BUT SOMETIMES IT’S GOOD TO HAVE AN ASSHOLE IN YOUR CORNER

Raven smiled as she typed out a response.

THAT’S WHAT I TELL PEOPLE ABOUT YOU!!

He sent back an emoji rolling it’s eyes and Raven was plotting a response when the receptionist called from her desk. “Mr. Murphy will see you now.”

Grabbing her jacket and big purse she walked down the short hallway to the door which said MURPHY on the frost glass, but before she could knock it opened. The man in front of her was a few inches taller than her, his posture relaxed, but his eyes were serious. For some reason when she looked at him, she thought of a 1950s greaser in a leather jacket and combat boots lounging in a booth diner.

“Raven Collins?”

She nodded and took his offered hand before he gestured for her to come into his office. “Bellamy told me you were looking to get divorced, is that right?”

Divorced, what an awful word, but she nodded again and finally found her voice. “Yes. Do you do a lot of them?”

“Enough of them,” he answered as he settled at the little table in the corner rather than his desk. Grateful, because it made the entire thing feel less formal, Raven sat across from him. “I’m a jack of all trades type of lawyer. I do a little bit of everything. What’s the reason for the divorce?”

“Infidelity.”

He nodded, but she was pretty sure she heard him mutter ‘ass’ under his breath as he made a note on his legal pad. She’d always pictures lawyers as cold and heartless, maybe a little formal, but she wasn’t getting any of those vibes from him. She wondered how long it would take for him to be an asshole.

“How long were you together?”

“Fifteen years, but we were only married for eight.”

“You meet him when you were twelve?” he joked.

“Eleven, actually.” He’d been the only person in her world for years, and Raven was just now beginning to understand how bad that was. “We married when we were eighteen. I worked, I’m a mechanic.”

“That’s hot.” The observation was so casually tossed out Raven almost missed, and he was grinning at her when she met his gaze. “That’s not professional to say.”

Okay, that was a little assholey because it wasn’t an apology, but Raven decided she wasn’t offended. Whoever this man, he didn’t appear to be the kind who kept his thoughts to himself which was refreshing after years of trying to understand Finn. “He went to college, I helped pay for some of it, and now he’s a strategist for a politician.”

She didn’t know why she was telling him this, he didn’t ask. He probably didn’t need to know her life story in order to get divorced but she was feeling particularly vulnerable and he was nearby. It probably wasn’t the first he’d had someone dump emotional baggage on him.

“Wife in town, girlfriend in DC?” he guessed.

Raven hated how easy it was for him to figure out what had taken her years. “Yes.”

He nodded and leaned back in his seat, resting his hands on his stomach as he watched her. “How badly do you want me to kick his ass?”

The question was enough of a surprise she blinked at him. “What?”

“There’s a more polite way to word the question, but you don’t seem the type to want to tiptoe around.”

“No,” at least she wasn’t anymore.

“What’s the endgame you’re looking for,” he asked. “After you file for divorced do you want to split everything down the middle and call it good? Or would you rather do whatever you have to do in order to get it done quickly? Or do you want to squeeze his balls until he calls uncle?”

“I don’t know, to be honest,” Raven said even as she laughed at the image. “I didn’t know squeezing his balls was an option.”

“It is.” He pushed his notepad to the side. “You paid for him to go to college, and now he’s what, spending the money on his girlfriend? That’s a dick move. If you want to get out quick, I get it, and we can make that happen, but if you want something else let me know.”

“I want my own shop,” she told him, shocking herself.

That had been her private dream, something she had mentioned to Finn only once or twice, something she hadn’t even told Bellamy about. And yet for some reason she was telling a complete stranger.

“Your own shop?” he repeated, making more notes. “You mean your own mechanic’s shop.”

“Yes,” she answered because he had taken the admission in stride, hadn’t looked surprised or wary of a woman owning her own place. Raven was beginning to wonder if anything phased him. “I was hoping once Finn, my husband, got a job we could start paying down some of the student loans so I’d be able to start my own place. It never happened.”

“How much does he make?”

“A lot.”

He nodded and made a note. “Do you have financial information?”

When she’d made the appointment she’d asked what she should bring and they’d basically said everything you’ve ever done during your marriage so she pulled out the manilla envelope from her massive purse and handed it to him. “Yes.”

“Prepared, I approve.” He took the package and leaned back to drop it on his desk, then leaned back in his chair to grab a business card. “And I’ll get started on the papers. What address would be the best place to serve him at?”

She knew the address of his apartment in DC, the one he’d shared with his girlfriend, but she didn’t know if he was still staying there. She wondered what he’d tell his colleagues about the divorce. If even told them about it at all. “Can you serve him at his job?”

He laughed so hard Raven was a little worried he was going to fall out of his chair. “Hell yes, I can. I think we’re going to get along just fine Mrs. Collins.”

“Reyes,” she corrected, knowing she was going to go back to maiden name the moment she could. “It’s Reyes.”

Murphy smiled like he understood, leaning forward with his hand out. “Nice to meet you, Raven Reyes.”

Murphy was walking through the bar on his way out when he spotted Raven sitting by herself at the one of the high tables. She was wearing a simple black dress and her hair was down, which he’d never seen before, and before he realized what he was doing he was walking towards her. “Raven.”

She looked up, a bright smile covering her face when she recognized him, and immediately Raven got off the chair and reached out to hug him. “What are you doing out on a school night?”

The casual affection surprised him, set him a little off balance, but he’d made a career out of pretending to be unaffected. “Job offer,” he answered.

“Are you heading out? Do you want a drink?” she gestured to the chair next to hers and without thinking too closely about why, he sat. “What kind of job offer?”

Murphy grabbed a waitress and put in an order for a beer before turning back to Raven. Her hair was much longer than he’d realized, nearly touching her lap as she sat next to him. Combined with the glossy lips and hint of cleavage, she was drop dead gorgeous. “There’s a firm here in town who wants me to join up.”

“Are you going to accept the offer?”

He thanked the waitress when she dropped the glass and bottle at the table, but he drank straight from the bottle. “Nope. I like being my own boss, and I have a problem with authority, so I’d likely just get myself fired. But it was nice to be asked.”

She laughed and lifted her martini to her lips.

“Are you out celebrating?”

“First chance to toast the divorce,” she explained. “I was working my ass off last week and was too tired.”

Murphy looked around the bar. “Are you here with anyone?”

“Nope,” she popped the ‘p’ as she answered. “I don’t have a lot of friends anymore. Bellamy would have come out, but he hasn’t been able to get away from work.”

“That’s depressing, Reyes.”

She grinned, as she always did, when he called her by her maiden name. “I’m aware, but I have mozzarella sticks coming so it’ll be less depressing then.”

“Got any plans for your settlement money?”

He’d managed to get more than enough from the cheating son-of-a-bitch to set Raven up for years. Instead of Finn paying back the money Raven had spent while he’d been going to school, Murphy had convinced him to pay the attorney fees, and then a large lump sum which was big enough to make her ex blanche.

“I’m still thinking about the shop,” she admitted. “There’s a place not far from here, it’s a good spot, good space. Wouldn’t take much work to get it up and running.”

“What are you going to call it?”

“I don’t know, Reyes?” she shrugged. “There’s no reason to get fancy about it.”

The food came then and Raven pushed the plate between them. “I know you just had dinner, but have at these if you want.”

Murphy ate one and could feel Raven’s eyes on him the entire time. “I know I’m sexy, Reyes, but the staring isn’t exactly subtle.”

“Is our professional relationship over?”

It wasn’t the question he’d been expecting but he nodded. “Yeah. Finn’s in charge of paying me, and you’re officially divorced, so my part is done. Why?”

She bit her lip which was distracting. “I came here to pick up someone.”

Every rational thought he’d ever had, and granted there weren’t a lot to begin with, disappeared as she made the admission. “Oh.”

“Finn was the only person I’d ever been with,” she admitted, meeting his gaze. “And – I can stop oversharing.”

He absolutely did not want her to stop because he had a pretty good idea what was coming at the end of the conversation and he desperately wanted to get there. “We don’t have attorney-client privilege,” he managed to get out. “But if you’re about to tell me about your sex life, you can’t just leave me hanging like that.”

She smirked and took another drink from her glass. “Sex with Finn was okay, and I thought our relationship was good enough the rest didn’t matter.”

“But you’re starting to think it matters,” and if he was half hard already, no one would be able notice from where he was sitting.

Raven nodded. “At the vey least I want a palate cleanser.”

Murphy put his arms on the table and leaned forward, keeping his voice down so anyone walking by wouldn’t be able to hear him. “Raven, if this conversation isn’t going to end with you asking me to fuck you, please tell me now. I’d rather disappoint my dick sooner rather than later.”

She rubbed her lips together and nodded. “That’s where this was going, yeah.”

He reached into his back pocket and dropped way too much money on the table; he’d been a waiter while getting through school, he knew how much it sucked. “Your place or mine?”

“Yours,” she answered, sliding off the chair. “Are you good to drive?”

“I didn’t drink at dinner and didn’t finish the beer,” he assured her, putting his hand low on her back to guide her out of the restaurant. “Did you drive?”

“No,” she shook her head. “I wasn’t sure how much alcohol it was going to take to get up the nerve to hit on someone.”

He stopped walking and studied her. “You’re not drunk, are you?”

“Just the one drink, and it takes a hell of a lot more than that to get me drunk.”

Satisfied he walked with her to the parking lot and stopped at his car, unlocking it as soon as he was close enough. “This is me,” and since she was already opening her door he wasn’t going to push her out of the way just for chivalry points.

“Did you have anything in particular in mind?” he asked as he started the engine.

“In mind?” she asked he pulled onto the street.

“For the fucking,” he reminded her and blatantly put his hand so high up on her thigh the only thing keeping him from cupping her was the stretch of the dress across her lap. “I’d hate for you to be disappointed.”

Her gaze was staring at his hand, but he didn’t do anything more. He wasn’t sure if she was skittish or just nervous, but he didn’t want to push it. Not yet anyway.

“I don’t know.”

“Come on,” he encouraged. “You’ve got to have had some fantasies. I’ll go first, my favorite thing to get off to is fucking someone in my office.”

She turned to look at him, and he couldn’t tell because it was too dark in the car, but he was pretty sure she was turned on. Something about the air between them had changed, electrified. “Your office?”

“Yeah, someone comes to bring me lunch and it turns out she’s not wearing any underwear and just came over for a quickie on the desk.” He lowered his voice as they came to a stoplight, “You have to be quiet, you know? Because there’s other people around you don’t want to get caught.”

The streetlights let him see her swallow and nod. “I always wanted to get fucked from behind.”

He was immediately hard as stone but tried keep his voice casual as he drove towards his apartment. “Dickwad wouldn’t do it?”

“Once, but he said he didn’t like it.”

“It’s an ego thing,” Murphy scoffed, because he’d met the man who was dumb enough to lose Raven Reyes. “If you’re not looking at his pretty face than you might forget who’s inside you. But don’t worry, you won’t forget who’s fucking you. I talk a lot.”

“Dirty talk?”

“Filthy talk,” he corrected with a grin. “There’s a subtle, but important difference.”

Raven shifted on the seat, her hand moving his until it was just under the hem of her dress. A wave arousal hit him so hard he nearly groaned. “Give me an example.”

“Dirty talk is like ‘I’m going fuck you with my fingers until you’re desperate to come,’” he explained, his finger twitching against the bare skin of her thigh. “Filthy talk is more ‘I’m going to bury my fingers in your wet pussy until my hand is soaked and you’re begging to come and then you’re going to lick your arousal off me so you know how good you taste.”

She was breathing hard, her hips moving so slightly he wouldn’t know except for the hand he had on her. “You’re right, there’s a difference.”

“Are you wet, Reyes?”

“Yes.”

“Good.”

Raven was almost unbearably aroused by the time Murphy opened the door to his apartment. After he’d asked her if she was wet they’d spent the rest of the car ride in silence, but his hand has been an ever present weight on her thigh. It was a tease, a promise, and it would have been entirely to dangerous for him to finger him while he drove, but she’d nearly broken and asked him to touch her.

“Want anything to drink?” he asked as he tossed his keys in the general direction of his couch.

“No.”

He turned to face her, “Nervous?”

Raven thought about the question seriously and was surprised to find she wasn’t. “No.”

“Raven Reyes,” he grinned with a shake of his head. “You’re a badass.”

“Thank you.”

“When was the last time you had an orgasm?”

“Last week.”

He snorted. “When was the last time you had an orgasm that made your toes curl?”

“A while,” she admitted.

“The original plan was to bring you here, bend you over the kitchen table and immediately fuck you senseless.” She liked how calm and casual he was about all this, like they’d been planning on eating in but he’d changed his mind at the last minute. He put his hands in his pockets and watched her. “But I have a feeling you’ve got a hell of a lot of need bottled up inside that amazing body of yours.”

Raven shrugged. She’d been honest with him earlier when she’d said sex with Finn had always been fine, but the kind of wild and rough sex he was talking about was something they’d never come close to. She was beginning to suspect there was a deep well of desire in her she’d never even touched, but she’d bet her divorce money Murphy would be able to find the bottom.

“You’re probably right.”

“Come here,” and it should have sounded like an order but instead it reached her ears like a suggestion, a seduction, and Raven pictured herself as the fly being lured into a web. She moved towards him, but he didn’t kiss her like she’d been expecting, instead he ran his hands over every part of her body. Down her back, over her ass, the briefest caress over her breasts.

“I’m not going to lie, I pictured fucking you in my office.”

She was surprised. She’d always been weirdly attracted to him, like the high schooler in her recognized had a former bad boy, but she hadn’t been aware the attraction and been reciprocated. “You did?”

His hand slid up between her thighs. “A couple of times. After you came by to finalize everything I went home and pictured you on your knees, but that’s a pretty basic male fantasy.”

“Do you want me to-“ she started but he was already shaking his head.

“You’re here to get fucked, Reyes, that’s the priority.”

Murphy reached under her dress and pulled down her underwear and she was just a little irritated because those had been expensive and sexy and he hadn’t even seen her in them. Then his hand was between her legs again the irritation melted away.

“I can’t wait to see my cock sliding into your pussy,” he told her and while she’d never pictured herself as the type to enjoy filthy talk, Murphy was quickly bringing her over to his side of thinking. The images his words conjured were enough to make her squirm. “But I want to see what you look like when come.”

She felt a finger brush against her and Raven swayed on her heels. “Let me take my shoes off.”

He didn’t move his hand so as she shifted to kick off her heels the contact moved and changed in unexpected ways.

“You’re soaked, Reyes,” he murmured against her temple, the tip of his finger finding the slit of her folds and shifting so gently and slowly it barely counted as moving. “Is all this just for me, or would you get this wet for anyone?”

Raven reached up to hold onto his shoulders, not trusting her balance. “Just for you.”

As if rewarding her for the answer he increased the pressure of his finger, sliding through the slickness and circling her entrance but going nowhere near her clit which was now needy for him. “You’re going to come so quickly, aren’t you? You’re not even going to make me work for it.”

Desperate to get more contact Raven reached behind her and slid the zipper down so she could push the fabric down to her hips. His finger paused for just a moment as he looked her breasts, barely encased in a nearly see-through lace bra.

“Fuck,” he murmured as he reached up to roughly touch her. His hand covered her, kneading the flesh, pinching the nipple. “Take it off, I want to see you.”

“Give me a finger,” she negotiated.

His grin was quick and sharp, full of amusement and hunger. “Fair is fair.”

The intrusion was slow and welcomed, her inner muscles instinctively trying to clench around him. It wasn’t enough, but it was more than she’d had in months, so she unhooked the bra and dropped in on a nearby chair.

“I’ve been wondering for weeks what color your nipples are,” he told her, and now that there wasn’t anything separating his hand from her body, the contact was nearly electric. The nail of his thumb scraped against the hard bud, and while she didn’t understand his fascination, she enjoyed knowing he’d fantasized about her too. “You’re gorgeous.”

When she reached for his shirt he shook his head. “In order to this off I’d have to move my hand and I’m not doing that until you come. How many fingers can your pussy take?”

She didn’t think that was a question which actually required an answer so she simply reached beneath his shirt to press her palms against his back. His skin was impossibly hot beneath her touch.

Murphy leaned forward and took one of her nipples into his mouth the same instant his finger began to move inside her.

All train of thought was lost.

She moved against him, but her rhythm was erratic because he wasn’t matching his movements. He’d lick her nipple and then drive his finger deep into her, but never at the same time. It was a constant stream of stimulation with the background of his voice telling her all the things he wanted to do to her.

“That’s right, Reyes, fuck my hand.”

“Another finger,” she told him. “I need more.”

She’d barely finished the sentence before two fingers began to slightly stretch her. Since she’d found out about Finn cheating on her she’d taken solace with her vibrator, but the little thing was meant just for clitoris stimulation. It had been a while since anything, or anyone, had been insider her.

When he pulled out and then slid back in again she didn’t hold back the moan.

“Fuck, that was hot,” he muttered half a second before he kissed her.

The contact was a shock, which Raven realized was ridiculous because he was literally finger fucking her, a kiss should hardly feel more intimate. His lips were dry and insistent, his tongue a warm pressure against the seam of her mouth.

She opened for him, the sweep of his tongue a demanding thing and she responded in kind. It was a sexy, sloppy kiss, and Raven wondered how he managed to do so many things to her at once. His fingers drove her closer to orgasm even as his mouth plundered.

“Another one,” he asked against her mouth and she nodded.

Murphy tugged at her dress, pulling it up so the entire thing was above her hips. “I want to see it,” he told her, and his voice sounded as wrecked as she felt. “Let me hear you, Reyes.”

Raven could feel his fingers sliding out of her, her fingers gripping so tight on his shoulders she wondered if she might leave bruises behind. Then three of his fingers were pushing in her and she gasped at the feel of them.

“You good,” he asked, voice tight as he dragged his eyes away from her pussy to her face. She kissed him and then nodded.

“It’ll be better when it’s your cock.”

His eyes went blazing hot, his fingers filling her so quickly and roughly she nearly came right then. “Oh my, God.”

“You’re so close,” he encouraged. “Another night, I might drag it out, make you so needy you forget how to talk but I need to be pounding into before I come in my slacks. If you come, Reyes, we both get what we want.”

Raven nodded but she needed more, “My clit.”

He wrapped his arm around her waist to keep her upright. “Do it yourself, I want to watch you touch yourself while you get off on my fingers.”

She moved her own hand between them, her fingers brushing against his wrist. When she touched her clit her whole body jerked at the pressure, “Oh my god.”

“That’s it, don’t be gentle.”

His fingers continued to pump into her as she pressed against the hard nub of her arousal, and her orgasm was like a tsunami, crashing into her with almost nowhere.

“Fuck,” she yelled as her entire body went tight with the force of the climax.

Murphy’s hand shined from Raven’s arousal, and while he’d told her in the car she’d lick it off of him, he knew he didn’t have that kind of time. Desperate need clawed inside, so raw and primal it felt like drowning; he needed to be inside her or he’d die.

He pushed the dress off her body and turned her around to face the kitchen table. “Bend over,” he ordered, as if he had any control over what was happening. When she put her elbows on the wood, her ass stuck out and the only reason he didn’t come right then was because he wanted to be inside her.

Stubbornness had always been his strong suit.

“Don’t move, I’m getting a condom.”

“My bra,” she said, her voice cracked. “I had a condom in my bra.”

Looking down he found the foil pack on the ground near his feet and tore it open carefully. Not wanting to waste any time, he pulled his cock out of his pants and left the rest of his clothes intact. Once the condom was on, he used the slickness on his hand to lube it. “Ready?”

“Yes.”

It was the only word he needed to hear.

Murphy stepped up behind her, put one hand on her hip and used the other to guide his erection to her entrance. “I’m going to try and give you another orgasm,” he promised. “But I’m so fucking turned on I don’t know how long I’ll last.”

“It’s fine,” she assured him, her hips moving back.

He moved the hair from her back so he could kiss the place at the base of her neck. “Do you mind if I pull on your hair?”

Murphy waited while she thought about it. “If I change my mind?”

“Just say stop,” he assured her, trying to remain just a little bit sane with the tip of his cock between the folds of her vagina. “That’s goes for everything.”

She nodded again and he ran his fingers down her spine so he could grip her hips with both hands. “Rough, right?”

“Don’t hold back.”

Taking her at her word he took a deep breath and buried himself to the hilt in one thrust.

She let out a strangled cry and he was about to check in with her when she moved back, pressing her ass into his crotch. “I don’t think you have to worry about me not coming again,” she managed to get out between unsteady breaths. “I’m so fucking close already.”

He could feel the muscles surrounding his cock flutter.

“Do you feel that? Feel how deep I am in your pussy?” he asked, rotating his hips to go just a little deeper. “Fuck, you feel good around my cock. So hot and wet, your pretty ass just begging to spanked.”

“Do that, and I’ll cut off your dick.”

He laughed but took the warning seriously.

Murphy pulled back and slammed into her again, the gasp of shock and arousal from Raven enough to spur him on. He fucked her over and over, the speed so quick and desperate Raven stopped trying to meet his thrusts and just took it.

In the car he’d bragged about being a filthy talker, but nothing he said could be as erotic and raunchy as Raven bent over the kitchen table taking his cock like they’d been born to fuck just like this.

He shifted her hips, pulling them up a little so she nearly on her toes and this time when he drove into her, he found her g-spot. “Fuck, fuck. Do that again, Murphy, I’ve never felt anything like that.”

Murphy repeated the action and she nearly screamed; the kitchen table moved with the force of their joining, but Raven didn’t appear to notice as she asked, “Didn’t you say something about my hair?”

She was flat on stomach now, and he hoped she wasn’t getting burns on her skin from the friction. He wanted to give her dick, not be a dick.

“Decided you were into it, huh?” He wrapped the long strands of her hair around his fist as he teased her. Murphy pulled her hair just a little until her torso was off the table. “I should have fucked you in front of a mirror.”

“I didn’t even think of that,” she admitted.

“I’d get to see your tits while I fucked you, your face while you come. You’d see how fucking hot you are while I drive into you from behind.”

“Fuck, Murphy. I’m close.”

So was he. Honestly, he should get a fucking metal for not having completely blown his wad by now.

He reached below the table, finding her clit with his hand. The movement forced Raven’s head back, her hair still held in his fist, her back arched and he was truly regretting the lack of a mirror.

His fingers pressed against her clit where he kept his strokes short and rough as he pleasured her to edge.

“There,” she moaned. “Fucking shit, you’re good at this.”

“I was inspired,” he told her honestly. He almost pulled out completely out, timed it so when he thrust in all the way he was pinching her clit at the same time.

“Fuck!” she nearly screamed, her entire body shaking with the force of the orgasm.

She was clenched so tightly around him he could barely move inside her, but he didn’t need much more incentive to come. Raven’s tight pussy was pulsing around him and a few seconds later he exploded inside her.

The orgasm was the strongest one he’d ever experienced and felt never ending.

When he finally managed to catch his breath and come back to his body he released Raven’s hair and all but petted her. He ran his hands down her back, along her ribs and waist, trying to soothe them both after what felt like a near death experience.

“Still with me?” he asked when she didn’t move.

“Yes,” she answered and took a deep breath. “I think I stars with that last one.”

There was more than a little male ego in his smile, so he was glad she couldn’t see it. “I’m going to pull out now and take care of the condom. Bathroom’s down the hall on the left.”

As he tossed out the condom he grabbed a towel and cleaned himself up, keeping an eye on Raven as she walked towards the bathroom. When he was certain she wouldn’t fall over he poured them both a glass of water and had already down his by the time she came back out.

Still naked.

“I don’t have the ability to fuck you again right this moment, but damn does my body want to.”

Her smile was amused but he thought he saw a little bit of a blush on her cheeks. “Right back at you.”

Murphy walked to her and handed her the water while he moved around the room to pick up her clothes so she wouldn’t have to bend over and do it. Getting fucked like that was fine, but no one felt cool picking clothes up off the floor.

“Thanks.” She got dressed in front of him, so he didn’t feel particularly bad about enjoying the view. When she pulled on her dress and turned away from him he took the hint and reached for the zipper.

“Is this a one-time thing, Reyes?” he asked, letting go of the dress and taking a step back.

She pushed her hair back over her shoulder, turning to look him straight in the eye. “I don’t know,” she answered, but there was a twinkle in her eye and mischief at the corner of her mouth. “Maybe I’ll come by for lunch at your office one these days.”

With those words, Murphy was fairly certain he had actually died during that orgasm and was now in heaven.

“Yeah,” and in that moment John Murphy realized he was no longer unaffected. “That’d be cool.”

#murven #the 100 #the 100 fic #murven fic

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allthingsfangirl101 · 4 years

Text

Gym Class Accidents

Gym class: a whole class period full of "healthy activities" that end in embarrassment.

Especially for people like me who have no upper body strength, no hand-eye coordination, and a lot of self-shame.

I groaned the second we walked into the gym and saw the two ropes hanging. Rope climbing was the ultimate test of upper body strength, which I have none of, and height, which I have a big fear of.

"Before you all try and come up with reasons you can't participate, don't bother. You are all required to climb one of the ropes. You will not be graded on how high you go but on participation. Let's get started."

Our teacher clapped his hands, making me jump. I looked over and noticed Noah Centineo watching me with a small smile on his lips. My cheeks burned as I quickly looked away.

I watched as student after student climbed or attempted to climb the rope. "Centineo and Collins. You're up!"

I chewed on my lip as Noah climbed the rope with ease. Right before he touched the ground, he looked over his shoulder, his eyes meeting mine. He smiled at me before jumping down. He turned around, instantly turning towards me and winked. I cleared my throat, looking away as our teacher announced the next two students.

After a few more students went, I knew it was my turn. When he said my name, I felt like I could vomit. I took a deep breath as I started to climb the rope. I tried to ignore the students staring at me as I pulled myself up. I was about halfway to the top when I started to get dizzy.

Suddenly, the rope slipped out of my hands.

I heard people below me let out surprised gasps. Before I could hit the ground, I felt a pair of arms easily catch me. I looked up and, when my mind recognized who saved me, that overwhelming feeling to vomit came back.

Noah Centineo gently put me on my feet, keeping his hands on my waist. "You okay?" He whispered. I couldn't respond. All I could do was focus on where his hands were.

I jumped when our gym teacher ran over to us. "Y/N, are you alright? What happened? Did you get dizzy? Did you slip? Are you hurt?"

The more questions he asked me, the more light-headed I got. My knees gave out, but thanks to Noah still holding onto me, he easily caught me.

"Centineo," our gym teacher instructed. "Take her to the nurse and tell her what happened."

Noah nodded as he wrapped his arm around my waist and helped me out of the gym. The whole way there, my head was spinning. I could feel my heart beating against my chest as I tried to get my breathing back under control.

"How are you doing? You okay?" He asked as we walked down the hallway.

"I'm fine," I stuttered. I looked up at him to see that he didn't believe me.

"What happened?" He asked, his voice lowering as the look in his eyes changed.

"I fell."

I heard him let out a sigh, clearly not believing me. "You could try telling me the truth," he said. "I won't judge you, I promise."

When I didn't say anything, he sighed. "You know, I was nervous to climb the rope too."

"Really?" I scoffed before I could stop myself.

He sent me a playful glare before laughing. "Yeah, smartass. I was nervous."

I stopped walking, making him stop too. I turned towards him to see him looking confused. "You don't have to lie to me," I sighed. "I don't need you to pretend that you were nervous in order to make me feel better about what happened. Can you just walk me to the nurse's office so I can lay down? Please?"

"Sure thing," Noah smiled, wrapping his arm around my waist and resuming our trek. I waited for him to say something as we walked through the empty halls, but he didn't say anything.

He briefly let go of me, long enough to open the door to the nurse's office. When we walked inside, the nurse looked up at us.

"What happened?" She asked as she walked over to us and helped me over to one of the cots.

"We were climbing the ropes in gym and she slipped," Noah explained.

"That damn rope," she muttered. "I tell Coach Jacobs every year that that thing is dangerous. What's your name, honey?"

"Y/N," I said, my voice soft.

"Y/N," she smiled as she repeated my name back to me. "What happened? Did you get dizzy or nauseous before you slipped?"

"I umm," I hesitated as I looked over to see Noah watching me. "I was dizzy and couldn't breathe."

"Wait," she stopped me. "You couldn't breathe? Y/N, are you afraid of heights?"

I bit my lip, the feeling of Noah's eyes on me intensifying. "Yes," I stuttered. "As I climbed, I got lightheaded and dizzy. When I got too high, I couldn't. . . I just. . . I fainted."

"That's okay," she said gently. She smiled as she walked over and grabbed a few things. She came back with a water bottle and an ice pack.

"What I need is for you to drink this water, slowly. Then I'm gonna have you lay down for half an hour with this ice pack on your forehead."

"Okay," I said softly. I grabbed the water bottle and took a small sip.

"You, on the other hand, can go back to class." I looked up to see Noah still watching me, studying me. He shifted his gaze to the nurse when she tried to get him to go back to class.

"Oh," he said softly, looking back at me. I tried to send him a reassuring smile. He returned the smile and hesitated before sighing. He sent me one last look before turning around and heading back to class.

Just like she said, I drank the water and laid down. When she was satisfied that I was better, she wrote me a note so I could go back to the locker room and change before heading to last period.

I walked out of the nurse's office but stopped when I noticed someone leaning against the lockers across the hall.

"Noah?" His name got caught in my throat. "What are you doing here?"

"I umm," he reached up and scratched the back of his neck. "I wanted to make sure you were alright."

"But," I stuttered. "You're missing class."

"I don't care," he laughed as he kicked off the wall. My breath got caught in my throat as he stopped right in front of me.

"Are you okay?" He whispered.

"I think so," I said, my voice coming out soft. I held my breath as he slowly reached up and cupped my cheek in his hand.

"I'm sorry I left you," he said barely above a whisper. "I didn't want to, but. . . "

"I know."

I held my breath as he leaned closer. Suddenly, his lips touched mine. It took me a second before I started kissing him back. Once I had, he instantly wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling me into his chest.

We pulled away, both of us gasping for air. My eyes were still closed as I felt him lean his forehead against mine.

"Are you hungry?" He asked randomly. I leaned back and laughed.

"Yeah," I said hesitantly.

"Let's go," he smiled as he grabbed my hand. "You can go get your stuff then we'll get something to eat."

"But," I stuttered, stopping him from leading the way to the locker rooms. "What about last period?"

"Ehh," he hummed as he playfully shrugged. "I'd rather go get food with you than try and stay awake in Mr. Larson's history class."

I couldn't help but laugh as he smirked at me. I bit my lip before standing on my toes and pressing my lips to his. I pulled away, my cheeks burning.

"Then I'm in too."

#noah centineo #noah centineo imagines #noah centineo x reader

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hannahindie · 6 years

Text

We’re No Heroes - Chapter 2

Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, sister!reader, Tony Stark Word Count: 2,169 Warnings: Adult language, crochety Dean, and Tony Stark. I think that’s enough warnings. A/N: So this whole Avengers/Supernatural idea I had got out of hand, and this is the second part to it. There is no timeline for either universe; it’s most definitely an AU. As far as the Avengers go, it’s obviously before Infinity War (for reasons I’m sure you can guess) and I think, generally speaking, we’re just ignoring that Age of Ultron existed. (Unlike a lot of people, I didn’t mind it...but that’s just whole other level of me trying to fit stuff in, and it already hurts my brain. lol) Also, we’re just going to pretend that Civil War either happened and turned out better or it just didn’t happen at all. The Supernatural part is set sometime after they’ve found the bunker. What I’m saying is, I do what I want, and I want all of these people in one spot, and there doesn’t need to be an explanation. Doesn’t have to make sense. Just...let it happen, and bask in it.

Beta’d by @pinknerdpanda, because she’s been my lifesaver as of late. Well, always, but especially here lately. Thank you, twinny. <3 “ I love grumpy old man Dean.”

As always, tags are at the bottom. If you’d like to be added let me know! This fic will, hopefully, be updated every Wednesday until it’s over. Hopefully.

“So, Agent Springfield...Springfield, right?”

“Yep, that’s right.”

“Like Rick Springfield?”

“Yep. My friends call me Dick.”

“May I call you Dick?”

“Nope.”

“Okay, Agent Springfield, what I’d like to know is why you’re in New York. I’ve spoken with the local authorities, and not one of them can tell me why you’d be called in. Not a clue.”

“Hmm. Well, the locals aren’t always included in federal investigations, so there’s your explanation. I don’t report to them.”

“I don’t think you report to anyone. I think you’re impersonating a federal agent, and at the same time, lying to one. You do realize that I’m part of the organization, right?”

“I don’t even remember your name, much less your job description. No offense.”

“Let me refresh your memory, Dean Winchester. My name is Phil Coulson, and I’m the reason you aren’t in a jail cell in a high security lockup. You’ve done some pretty heinous things, so forgive me if I’m less than patient with you. Now tell me, what in the hell happened out there?”

“Why don’t ask you ask your merry band of men in tights? I seem to recall they had a hand in all of it.” He leans forward and Coulson sits back slightly, his eyes wide. “They certainly didn’t seem to be offended by someone like me. Maybe explain why the heroes of the universe would associate with such a heinous individual such as myself? You call me a serial killer? Looks like maybe you should do your job better. I seem to recall a few casualties at the hands of,” Dean rolls his eyes as he air quotes, “‘Earth’s Mightest Heroes’. Now my bro…” he clears his throat and leans back in his chair, “my partner, he’s the true crime expert so he would know better than me...and correct me if I’m wrong...but that sounds a hell of a lot more like a serial killer to me. And you just let them run around in high tech suits and without superversion…” he whistles and puts his hands behind his head, “Doesn’t sound like a good idea to me, although I guess the government has a lot of those-”

“They aren’t serial killers, and if I were you, I’d be very careful how far you step over the line. I’m not asking them, I’m asking you. What happened out there?”

“You’re not as much of a pushover as I thought you would be, Phil. What’s your last name again? Collins? I bet you can feel it in the air tonight, can’t you?”

Coulson glares at Dean, his knuckles white as he clenches them tightly. “It’s Coulson,” he manages to grind out, “and you’d do best to remember that. Now, tell me.”

“Awwe, I’m just having fun with you. I know your last name is Coulson, Debbie Downer. Anyway, it started about a day after we got to New York…”

“Well, that was a fucking bust, wasn’t it?” Dean grumbles as he takes his jacket off and tosses it in the backseat.

“Did you really expect it to go any differently? Since when do we ever actually get the answers we need?” Sam grabs Dean’s jacket off the seat, straightens it, then lays it gently on the bench seat with his own. “Maybe Y/N’s got something.”

Dean climbs into the car and shuts the door as Sam goes around to the passenger side, “Yea, maybe.” He starts the car, and after checking his mirrors, pulls out into the road and is quickly honked at by a taxi that seemingly appears out of nowhere. He sticks his arm out the window, flashes his middle finger, then continues into traffic. Sam rolls his eyes and sighs, and Dean looks over at him. “What?”

“Nothing.”

“Why don’t you call Y/N, see what she’s found?”

Sam is already scrolling through his phone, and he glances at Dean as he puts his phone up to his ear, “You know, you could go easier on her. She's an adult, and she grew up the same way we did. It's different with her, she can take care of herself.” He frowns when she doesn't answer and hangs up.

“What?”

“No answer. She's probably researching. Let's head back to the hotel and see what she's up to.” He taps out a quick text and hits send, then puts the phone back into his pocket.

“I know she grew up like we did, but that doesn’t mean anything. We just found her, the last thing we need is another Adam situation.” They both fall silent at the thought of the youngest Winchester brother still trapped in the cage. “Anyway, I’m just saying, we gotta watch out for her. Her mom will kill us if something happens.”

“She’s not going to kill us.”

“Sam, she could be Ellen’s twin. She will absolutely kill us.”

“Dean, you’re being ridiculous.” They pull into the valet parking and Dean practically growls when he hands his keys over. “What is wrong with you?” Sam hisses under his breath as he grabs their jackets and his bag from the backseat.

“If she so much as gets a thumbprint on a window…” he glares at the valet as he climbs into the driver's seat, Adam’s apple bobbing nervously as he swallows thickly under Dean’s hateful gaze.

“She’ll be fine. What is with you today?”

“I just don’t see why we have to stay in this fancy ass hotel. We could have stayed outside the city for cheaper, and I could park my own damn car. Maybe gone to a bar where I don’t have to pay to just sit down.”

“You don’t have to...you know what, never mind. It’s only for a couple of days, anyway. We’re scoping it out, then we’ll meet up with Garth and see what we need to do.”

Sam smiles at the woman at the front desk, and she blushes furiously before ducking behind her computer. Dean rolls his eyes as Sam pushes the elevator button.

“What?”

“Nothing, Mr. Universe, nothing at all.” They walk into the elevator and Dean jams his thumb into the thirteenth button. “Thirteenth floor. I feel like that's just asking for it.”

It is Sam’s turn to roll his eyes as they ride the rest of the way to their room in silence, other than the canned Muzak playing through the small speakers above them. The elevator finally slows to a stop and the doors slide open with a ding. “When we get to the room, please just...lay off her, huh? She's not a kid, she's a good hunter.”

They step out and begin walking down the hall. “Why don't you quit telling me what to do? As much as you're repeating it, it sounds like you're trying to convince yourself that she's fine.” He puts a hand on Sam’s arm and stops him outside their door, “She’s our responsibility now. We promised Alice that if she came with us, we’d keep her safe. Just being a Winchester is one strike, and I’m sure Y/N taking our last name is probably a second.”

Sam sighs, “Do you really think Alice would have let her come with us if she didn’t trust us? I mean, you’ve met her, right? She’s not exactly a pushover, and I’m also pretty sure she doesn’t care about the last name thing. Y/N did that before we even knew she existed. Nothing is going to happen to her, okay? Not everyone we care about dies.” Dean raises an eyebrow and Sam sighs again. “Alright, I see your point. She’ll be fine.” Sam unlocks the door and pushes it open, “Y/N, were you able to find anything-” He stops mid-sentence when he sees the that the room is empty and exactly the way they had left it that morning. “Y/N?”

Dean throws the bathroom door open, then walks into the connecting suite to find it also empty. He walks back into the living room, “You were saying?”

“I’m sure there’s a good explanation. Maybe she decided to work at the library instead of coming back here.” He pulls his phone from his pocket and frowns, “She’s not answered my text message.” He taps the screen, then quickly puts the phone to his ear. “Y/N, where are you? Call us back as soon as you can.” He hangs up, then looks at Dean, his brows knitted in concern.

“Okay, clearly no one came here...so somewhere between the police station and here, she went off course. It’s Y/N, so that’s not a surprise. And like you said, when she’s researching, she doesn’t pay attention to anything else. You’re probably right, she’s just at the library. Now, where’s that?”

“Do you realize how many libraries are in this city? She could be anywhere.”

Dean plops down on the couch and runs a hand over his face, “Yea, well, we have to start somewhere.”

“If you have a good idea, let’s hear it-” Sam is interrupted by his phone ringing and he quickly answers it. “Hello?”

“Hey, it’s me. Get anything?”

“Seriously? Where are you?!”

“Oh, yea, sorry, I got caught up. You’re never gonna believe-” A muffled voice in the background cuts her off, there is a moment of whispering, and then she comes back on the line. “Actually, can you meet me somewhere? It’s uh...it’s kind of hard to explain. But I think I’ve got some help on this little demon problem we’re having...well, not little. It’s not little at all.”

Dean grabs the phone out of Sam’s hand, “Where the hell are you? You were supposed to come back to the hotel room, what happened?”

“Like I said, it’s hard to explain. I need you guys to meet me at this address.” She rattles it off before Dean has a chance to answer and he grabs the notepad from the coffee table and hastily scribbles the information she gives him.

“But you’re okay, right? All in one piece?”

“Yes, Dean, I’m fine. Thank you for being worried. Now, hurry your asses up and get over here.” The line goes dead and Dean hands the phone back to Sam.

“She gave me an address, let’s go.”

“Where is she?”

“I guess we’re going to find out.”

Dean pulls up to the address Y/N gave him and slows to a stop, his eyes slowly traveling from the entrance to the top of the very tall building.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“What?” Sam asks without looking up from his phone. Dean grabs his face and turns it to the window and he looks up, his jaw dropping at the sight in front of him. “Are you... are you sure this is the address she gave you?”

“Yea, I’m sure.”

They both climb slowly out of the car, their heads turned upward at the sight, and close their doors.

“Mr. Winchester?” Dean looks down and sees a valet standing in front of him, his hand held out and smiling. Dean frowns and the valet laughs, “I’ve been told you’re very protective of...Baby. I promise, sir, she’s in good hands. I wouldn’t have this job if I wasn’t good at it.”

“He’s right you know, I don’t hire riff raff. Happy parks my cars all the time, top notch parking. As a matter of fact, he just parked my car, did it perfectly. Actually, we’ve got a deal, ideal parking in thirty seconds or it’s free.”

Both Winchesters snap their heads in the direction of the voice, their eyes wide. The man belonging to it walks casually down the stairs, sunglasses obscuring the upper part of his face. Dean drops his keys in the outstretched hand and walks around the Impala to join Sam. The man stops in front of them and pulls his sunglasses off, and Sam’s face transforms from disbelief to pure awe.

“What...we…”

“You must be Sam.” He looks him up and down for a moment, “You sure you aren’t part of the super soldier experiment? I mean, you’re huge. What year were you born? And where? I’d like to know what they put in the water there, maybe use it for something here. Science, you know. And you,” his eyes travel to Dean, “you must be Dean. I mean honestly, Y/N said you guys were large, but I think our resident super humans are going to be a little jealous. I’m not, because I’m comfortable with what I was born with, but you know how superheroes can be. Well, genetically enhanced superheroes, anyway.” He holds his hand out, and both Sam and Dean shake it half-heartedly, still confused by what is happening.

“Y/N...is here?”

“Yea, funny story about that. Anyway,” he waves in the general direction of the building, “welcome to Avengers Tower. I’m your host, Tony Stark. Food and beverages will be provided. Now, I think we’ve got some demons to take care of. Shall we?”

Like what you see? Would you like to see more? Check out my master list HERE.

Forever Tags: @trexrambling @pinknerdpanda @wheresthekillswitch @emilywritesaboutdean @arryn-nyxx @emptywithout @escabell @charliebradbury1104 @jarpadandjensenaremyheroes @deanssweetheart23 @canadianjelly @super-not-naturall @aubreyreadsstuff @dean-winchesters-baby @melissaj616 @fandomismyspiritanimal @keepcalmandcarryondean @assbutt-still-in-hell @owllover123 @rosie-winchester @amionthetumbler @duubaduu @hiimaprofessionalfangirl @goldenolaf25 @authoressskr @nanie5 @mrssamfuckingwinchester @zincomms @kathaswings @crazynerdandproud @barbedwireandbubblegum @sandlee44 @boxywrites @justanotherdeangirl @smalltowndivaj @captainradicalpassion @myloveforyouxx @atc74 @mrsbatesmotel53 @there-must-be-a-lock @masksandtruths @thelittleredwhocould @jotink78 @amanda-teaches @ilsawasanacrobat @squirrel-moose-winchester @mjdoc90 @anticipate1003 @mrswhozeewhatsis @mogaruke @speakinvain @linki-locks11 @wildlandfox @rhochradel @lostnliterature @eternal-elir @spn-ficfanatic @polina-93 @lexiiiii28 @poukothenerd @emoryhemsworth

Dean Only: @akshi8278 @valkyrieslament @lavieenlex @highonpastries @wholelottajackles @imascio08 @adoptdontshoppets

Sam Only: @bunnybaby121115

We’re No Heroes: @xalgaliareptx @primenumberscanbeintimidating @aubreystilinski @impandagrl @ludo4 @nikkilaf @babyimp67 @smi727 @lexiiiii28 @rideandwritethings @trunk-full-of-ideas @a-sad-excuse-of-everything @hetaliameow @gingermimi1975 @carryonmywaywardcaptain @contemplatin @tinyvelociraptor2319 @paintballkid711 @smandrews3 @waitwhatsrealityagain @adoptdontshoppets @marvelskitten-999 @frostingsfics @bookworm104 @ellen-reincarnated1967 @kararanae23 @dreamwhisper87 @hooked-onfandoms @sleepymessxc

#supernatural #avengers #supernatural x avengers cross over au #marvel #fanfiction #dean winchester #sam winchester #sister!reader

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randomfandomimagine · 5 years

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Here Comes The Sun. Chapter 1: Hero of the Day

Fandom: Supernatural

Setting: Alternative Season 13/14

OC: Brooke Bishop

Pairing: None

Chapter Index - Next Chapter

WATTPAD - AO3

WARNING: It can get a bit violent at the end!

Another day, another shift at the store. While the routine was kind of mind-numbing, the many different faces of strangers was somewhat refreshing.

I absently played with my necklace as I waited for any new customers to arrive. I had literally nothing else to do to kill time while I did – I had organized the shelves, counted the money on the cash register and braided my long hair several times now out of boredom.

Just as I thought about this, the door opened and the sound of the welcoming bell ringing filled the establishment. I turned to see a short man walking in, and he dedicated me an extroverted grin that I reciprocated as best as I could.

“Good evening, sir!”

“Hi there”

I observed him as he walked around the store, his brown eyes wandering around the shelves without interest. Then he made a beeline for the chocolate bars as soon as he saw them and began piling them up on his arms. I smiled a little at the sight. Then he walked over to me and dropped all the sweets on the glass counter. That was fast!

Noticing I was staring in amusement, he brushed his slightly long brown hair back and held my glance.

“You do know that Halloween just passed, don’t you, sir?” I grinned as I picked up a plastic bag and began putting the bars inside, counting them.

“I have a bit of a sweet tooth” He simply replied, already opening one of them.

“I can see that” I chuckled, shoving the last one inside the bag and mentally counting the one he was now eating as well. “It’ll be ten thirty, please”

“Nice weather, huh?” The man casually asked, getting his wallet out and sifting through the bills. “A little cold, but still nice”

“Yeah!” I gladly contributed to the small talk. “The clouds are fading, it looks like the sky will be clear in a few hours”

“I don’t think so” He wrinkled his nose in disagreement, picking out a twenty dollar bill and handing it to me. “I think there’s a big storm coming”

I curiously watched him as I took the money and saved it in the cash register. Then I briefly looked over my shoulder to the window behind me, noticing the blue sky, almost rid of any clouds. When I turned back to him, he was grinning.

“Keep the change, sweetheart” Winking an eye at me, he held out his hand, so I gave him his bag full of chocolate bars.

I opened my mouth and tried to reply with something, even if a bit taken aback by his familiarity. But he was already saving his wallet and moving on.

“T-Thank you for your purchase!” I finally said, forgetting about the odd weather chat. “Please come again!”

“Bye, Brooke” He said as he walked out the door, triggering the bell once more.

I frowned at the mention of my name, wondering how he knew. I never told him.

But I chuckled, feeling a little silly, when I remembered about my name tag. Not that I remembered him actually looking at it, but he must have without me realizing. Otherwise, how would he know?

Trying to forget about that strange interaction, I got back to playing with my necklace while waiting for someone else to come. The store was usually really calm, and except for random people coming to satisfy their cravings or buying a necessary item last minute, my shifts were pretty uneventful.

I honestly preferred having a breather in this small convenience store than working at the busy supermarket, which was usually way too frantic for my liking. I was kinda relieved any day they didn’t call me to ask me to fill an absence there, I was surely glad that it was something unusual.

The welcoming bell announced another client, so I stood up straight and prepared my friendly smile to greet the customer, but it wasn’t an ordinary customer. I nervously aligned all items in the counter as the man in the suit walked in like he owned the place, not really looking at me. Well, the joke is that he actually owned the place.

“Uh… Mr. Collins?” I timidly spoke up, noticing he held a cellphone to his ear. My boss finally turned to me, not even bothering to move his phone away. “Could I please talk to you for a moment, sir?”

“Not now” He just said, continuing on his way to his office. Or well, the storage room that happened to double as his office.

I watched him in silence until he walked in and closed the door behind him, his voice sounding muffled when he responded to the person on the phone.

Indecisive, I bit my bottom lip and drummed my nails against the glass counter. After a few seconds in which I thought twice several times, I convinced myself to do it and left my position behind the counter, walking with determination to his office and knocking on his door as I mentally went over what I wanted to say.

A sigh come from inside and the talking stopped until his voice was heard again.

“Hang on, the orphan wants to talk to me” He said in exasperation.

I frowned when that word uttered aloud always brought a stabbing pain to my heart. He could have easily said something different, like ‘girl’ or ‘employee’ or… I don’t know, anything else. But he had to use that word, almost with contempt.

“Come on in…” As he reluctantly invited me in, I forced a smile and obliged.

I stared at him for a moment, watching his expensive suit and his brand new phone. Even if he was just the owner of a small convenience store in a suburbs neighbor, he had to do things like those or buy his workers unnecessary name tags. I didn’t want to… judge him, despite being rude sometimes, but I just…

“What is it?” He rushed me, tapping the watch on his wrist.

“Oh! I, uh… wanted to ask for a raise, if that would be possible” I gulped as I made a pause, trying to control my nerves and trying not to think about the possible no. “I have been working here for a while now and I could use the money. Please, sir, I would really appreciate it”

Mr. Collins rolled his eyes and stared at me for a moment before finally speaking up.

“I’m afraid that won’t be possible, young lady” With a petulant gesture, he waved his hand in the air and asked me to leave.

“I see, okay…” I gave him a polite nod and smile. “Thank you for your time, have a nice day”

And with that I exited the office, walking back to my usual place behind the counter. I sighed as I picked up my necklace and carried on fiddling with it, inevitably waiting for any new customers that might come.

Closing time meant that I got to return home, have some delicious dinner and huddle under a warm and cozy blanket. I was looking forward to that, leaving another monotonous day at work behind, especially since it was still tiring.

I walked into the dark streets and looked up to the starry sky, buttoning my jean jacket to shelter myself from the night breeze. Huh, who would have known, that man was right – it seemed like there would be a storm, the clouds seemed to have gathered again.

Wanting to arrive home as soon as possible, I made haste, walking a bit fast. I shoved my hands in my jacket pockets, trying to decide what I could have for dinner.

I suddenly yelped when the loud sound of thunder echoed around me, surprisingly close. I kept walking, hurrying myself even more to get home before the storm worsened and it started raining. I didn’t like thunderstorms that much either, they made me nervous.

I continued walking, picking up my pace and getting startled every time a thunder echoed in the sky. It sounded so close, oddly enough almost like it was at ground level.

Wanting to get away from it as soon as possible, I started actually running. I jogged around the mostly empty streets as they were brightly illuminated by the light of the thunderstorm.

I stopped dead in my tracks, however, when a big lightning and thunder fell, so close by that I yelped very loudly. My whole body got overwhelmed with goosebumps and I was suddenly breathing heavily and shuddering. It had fell so close! Almost like it was surrounding me, like it could actually reach me.

“Okay, that was weird…” I nervously chuckled, trying to calm down. “But it’s okay, I’m okay, it’s just a storm…“

I told myself that several times as I made my way back home, briskly jogging when it started pouring with rain. Truth was, I had never been more scared about a thunderstorm before.

After that strange day, the next one wasn’t any better. It rained again, which ruined my mood a bit, and I was exhausted after spending the entire night having nightmares. There was no activity in the convenience store at all, and the monotony brought the apathy. I told myself that I was going through a rough patch, that things would get better and tomorrow would be a better day after those bad couple of days.

On my way back home, I was hoping nothing strange happened like the other night. Ever since then, I had felt restless and I couldn’t quite explain why. Maybe a combination of that strange man who against all odds predicted the weather and the actual frightening thunderstorm that nearly reached me with one of its lightning. But it would pass, it was just temporary.

I continued walking around the dim-lit streets as I did every day, only the far light of the tall lamp posts illuminating my way. Yet my heart raced at the sudden noise of voices in the alley I was passing by the entrance of. By the sound of it, someone was struggling. Could they be in trouble?

I looked around, noticing no one else was paying attention to it. I wondered if I should call the police. I thought about leaving too, but I just couldn’t keep walking! What if they needed help?!

I suddenly jolted up when a nerve-wrecking screech diverted my attention back to the alley. They were definitely in trouble, I couldn’t just stand there! Even if I called the police, they would never make it on time to help. I had to do something!

Before I could consciously send the order to my brain to move, I was already on the way. I ran at full speed, shakily sinking my hands in my pockets in search for any kind of weapon in case I needed it. The closest thing I could find was my keys, which I tightly held on to, blindly trying to find the sharpest end.

As I immersed myself in the dark alleyway, I froze at the scene before me. Two men were cornering a blond girl against the wall while she struggled to escape. The sight made the blood boil in my veins.

“Hey!!” I said, much louder than I intended, gathering their attention.

I gulped, taking a step back, when the men’s dark black eyes settled on me. My bottom lip was trembling, but I clenched my jaw and tried to appear brave.

My hand was clutching on to the keys inside my pockets so tightly that they were painfully digging in my skin. With my free hand, I subtly motioned for the girl to run while I distracted them.

Her light green eyes widened with realization and she began running at top speed, whispering a thank you as she passed me by. I was about to follow, but I found myself being mesmerized by their strange eyes. I couldn’t stop staring at them… They were of an unnatural deep shade of black that stirred something within me.

When I finally snapped out of it, and before I could try and escape, they were next to me. I yelped, walking back as my mind frantically tried to process it. How did they move so fast?! They were suddenly right next to me when a few meters separated us before. How was that possible?!

“What do we have here?” One of them said, eyeing me up and down in a way that made me deeply uncomfortable.

I felt my hand shaking in my pocket as I hesitated, trying to think whether I should use my ‘weapon’ or not. I didn’t really want to hurt anyone, but I could be the one getting hurt if I didn’t.

“A kid playing hero, huh?” The other followed along, extremely close to me.

My breath hitched in my throat when they held me by the arms, making it impossible to use my hands now. I struggled, trying to get them off me, but they were incredibly strong. Surprisingly strong, even for two grown men, as their hands felt like iron claws on my forearms.

I hadn’t thought this through. I was very glad that the girl was safe now, and maybe she would bring some help. But I hadn’t stopped to think how I would get myself out of that mess.

“Help!” I screamed at the top of my lungs, hoping someone could hear me.

My heart was beating even faster than before, so loudly that it echoed in my ears. That frantic feeling only made me panic even more. Their unexpected amused laughter caused a lump in my throat.

I screamed when I took a good look at them. Their teeth… those… Those weren’t teeth, they were like fangs! An entire row of sharp teeth like… like sharks. Equally sharp and intimidating.

A new scream tore from my throat when he reached forward, getting his mouth dangerously close to my neck. I crazily fought against them, trying to break free from their grasp on me as their sharp teeth got closer to my skin, but it was all in vail. They were much stronger than me.

The teeth painfully graced my neck as I struggled like crazy. Everything felt like chaos – my breathing came in pants, my heart was beating so fast that it pulsated in my temple and a complete panic had taken over me. And then it all suddenly stopped.

The pain in my neck disappeared, and I felt them releasing me. I opened my eyes, just then realizing I had closed them tight, and saw something that made me cover my mouth with my hands in horror and scream against them, for the third time within a minute.

The man’s head fell off his neck and into the ground. His limp body followed soon after. Something shone under the moonlight, which I realized was a machete. The head had been chopped off with a clean cut.

The other one ran away, freeing me completely. More footsteps followed, and a voice broke the silence of the night.

“I’ll get the other, stay with her!” Yelled a raspy voice as the footsteps grew further from me.

I was shaking from head to toe, lost in my thoughts and my terror as I tried to make sense of what was happening. My body and mind felt numb and my stomach became queasy.

“Hey” A deep voice startled me just as two hands gently fell over my arms. “Hey, are you okay?”

“H-Huh?” I replied groggily, trying to focus on the green eyes that stared at me.

“Are you okay?” He insisted, this time slower, carefully helping me to my feet. I hadn’t even realized I had fallen, but my knees did find it difficult to hold my weight.

“I… I-I think so…” I breathed out, trying to even out my breaths.

“It’s okay, you’re safe now” His hands kindly rubbed my arms in an up and down motion.

“W-What happened?”

“Don’t worry, they’re gone now, it’s alright”

I took a few deep breaths to calm my speeding heart and looked at the man before me, trying to focus on something that wasn’t my state of panic. He was very tall, with broad shoulders. His hair was brown, long up to his shoulders and combed so it fell over the sides of his face. I took notice of his green eyes again, they held great kindness that brought me some sort of comfort.

I gulped, closing my eyes for a moment to keep breathing before I could hyperventilate. His hands never left my arms, and he shook me softly.

“Hey, look at me” I opened my eyes and did my best to hold his stare. “What’s your name?”

“Br-Brooke…”

“Okay, Brooke, you need to tell me… Did you drink his blood?”

“W-What? I don’t understand…”

“I know it’s weird, but can you answer the question?”

“N-No… I don’t think I did… No, I… I didn’t”

“Good” He let out an awkward chuckle that felt out of place.

The stranger gently patted my arm and straightened up, taking a quick look around him. The alleyway was now calm and quiet, almost like I hadn’t just been attacked.

“You…” I gulped when my eyes fell over the ground, watching the lifeless head there, sitting in a puddle of crimson blood, with wide-open eyes. “You cut that man’s head off…”

My stomach painfully turned at the sight, so I looked away with a grimace. I… I couldn’t even believe what was happening! I felt like I was watching a movie, like that wasn’t really happening to me. It… It couldn’t be…

“It… I know but… It’s not what it looks like” The man answered awkwardly.

I shook my head, losing focus again. I wasn’t feeling so good. My head was spinning.

My hand weakly fell over my neck once the adrenaline slightly wore off and I felt a mild pain there. Just in the spot that connects to the shoulder, my skin had been violently scratched and blood was gushing from it. I didn’t want to look at it, but feeling the crimson liquid made me sick enough already. Even more than I was before.

“H-Help me…” I only managed to whisper, as my voice was too quiet. I felt myself falling as the world turned dark.

Tagging: @thoughtfulcollectormaker, @snowfire71, @xionroxas

A/N: I hope you enjoyed chapter 1, I’m super excited about this story! I will probably post chapter 2 after I’m done with ships. Also, let me know if you want me to tag you in the story!

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darkestwings · 6 years

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Top 5 Wednesday: May 9, 2018

Characters You'd Want as Family

You can say this in a broad way or be specific (i.e. _______ would be a cool aunt, ______would be a great older brother, etc.) To participate in Top 5 Wednesday, head over to their Goodreads Group!

Almost every main character from The Tillerman books // The Tillerman Cycle by Cynthia Voigt

This is probably cheating to be like "oh yes the entire extended family unit from 7 whole books" but whatever! I love the Tillermans more than I've ever loved any characters from any media.

I don't even think I can properly explain it, but if a god came down from some heaven and was like "I will reset the world and let you invent a family for yourself, tell me what you want" I would just dump these books in their lap and just:

"I want Dicey, Sammy, James, Maybeth, and Gram first of all. And I still want my real Granny too because I think she and Gram would get along scarily well, so just keep that in mind. Secondly, Bullet needs to be alive and HAPPY and if you have the time to make Miss Liza not go crazy and die that would be great. No no, I have no need for John the abusive husband, that bitter prick can die. I don't want Francis Verricker either. He doesn't count as a part of that family and if you bring him to life I will kill him myself so don't waste your time. Feel free to throw in Mina Smith's whole family AND Tamer Shipp (and his family probably he seems to like them) and Jeff Greene's too. Actually wait, just Jeff, Brother Thomas, and the Professor. Melody's whole side of the family can choke. Okay great get crackin' on all that I'm going to go reread the series."

And whatever god offered me this option would completely regret it, but I would insist we shake on it as soon as possible so they'd be locked into that whole deal.

The Gangsey // The Raven Cycle by Maggie Stiefvater

Yep, I'm still cheating. But honestly after my last answer this one probably seems like nothing at all. In fact, you might even let me get away with having Blue's Fox Way family and the Gray Man? Yes. Excellent. So all the decent humans from The Raven Cycle. Check.

Ripred // The Underland Chronicles by Suzanne Collins

Who wouldn't want a GIANT FUCKING RAT who is excellent at killing as family?

Honestly though, he would be excellent to have around. He's sarcastic and rude which I can dig because I too am sarcastic and rude, he can kill anyone so Guard Rat, and he mostly just wants to eat shrimp in cream sauce and read books so like.... A nice companion all in all.

Dashti // Book of a Thousand Days by Shannon Hale

She's so kind and loyal and a great friend. Plus she has healing magic that can also help relieve the pain of chronic injuries so... Useful. Fuck you Mr. Chiropractor my new fam Dashti the Mucker can help me by just laying her hand on me and singing me a nice song. Eat it.

And like she's lovely and brave and I always thought she'd be an excellent friend.

Mr. & Mrs. Fitzwilliam Darcy // Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen

Okay so first I was torn between the two. The sassy lady or the most awkward man to ever live... And then I decided I'd just take them both!

I'd get to enjoy the sass of Eliza Bennet and the awkward kindness of Fitzwilliam Darcy AND if we were related...um....you know... HE'S SUPER RICH AND I WANT TO BE SUPER RICH BY PROXIMITY SO DEAL WITH IT. But mostly I just like them. The money is only a bonus.

Wow I am very demanding in my list of potential family... What about you? What book characters would you wish to have as family?

WordPress Book Blog | Goodreads

#bookish #booklr #t5w #top 5 wednesday #top five wednesday #op #pride and prejudice #the raven cycle #the underland chronicles #shannon hale #suzanne collins #book of a thousand days #maggie stiefvater #jane austen #the tillerman cycle #cynthia voigt

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rocky-alex · 6 years

Text

A Hunter’s Life For Me

Summary: Hunting demons, who’da thunk it? But fake FBI, a possessed parent and iron teapots will do that to a girl, and so that’s where I ended up. I’m not on the list of most wanted, by either friends or enemies, but I choose my own life whatever anyone says. I had to break a heart and leave home to do it, but honestly? I wouldn’t change it for anything.

A/N: I’m back! Took a while for the idea to take shape, but here it is. Hope no one thought I’d end up a one-hit wonder, because I love writing and want to keep at it. Motels was updated very often, but I can’t say the same for this one unfortunately. This one will be a bit different from Motels because it’s in first person POV, but I hope you’ll all like it anyway :)

Chapter 1: Oh papa, I’m in fear for my life

Word count: 2143

Pairing: You will have to wait and see :P (mostly because it’s not decided yet)

Warnings: A little violent and dark

Dad,

I know that this is the last thing you were expecting, and I know that you must have a lot of questions. I want to try to explain everything to you, but chances are you won’t believe me. To anyone sane enough this story would sound crazy, and the person telling it even more so. Before I begin I want you to know that I am so sorry for what’s happened, what you’re about to find out. It broke me, to do what I did, but please understand that I had to do it.

Before you start to wonder, I have to tell you that mom and Maria aren’t coming back. They’re gone. There’s no point in looking for them, because you won’t find them. I won’t be coming back either, and this is the last you’ll ever hear from me. I’m making sure I can’t be tracked, I will essentially be dead to the world. Please, don’t go to the police, they won’t be able to help you.

So, this all started three weeks ago, when two men came knocking on our door…

“Can I help you?”

“Yes,” one of them said, holding up an FBI badge. Special Agent James Ferguson, yeah right. “We’re here investigating the two murders that happened down the road from here, and were wondering if we could ask some questions.”

“You mean the demonic killings that the police have no idea how to solve?”

“Ho- How did you…?” the taller of the two trailed off, not finishing the question.

“How do I know it was demons, or how do I know about demons?”

“Both, I guess.” I looked around on the street. The middle aged couple next door was just going out for a walk, so I gestured for the two men to come inside.

“Get in.” They stepped in and I closed the door behind them. Crossing my arms over my chest I spun around to face them.

“It’s not important how I know about demons, just know that I do.” The two men looked at each other, shrugged, and then turned back to me.

“Okay, fair enough,” the shorter one said.

“Good,” I held out my hand. “Jules Collins.” “Dean Winchester,” the short one, Dean, shook my hand, and gestured to the man beside him. “My brother, Sam.” Sam shook my hand.

“I’d say pleasure to meet you both, but it’s really not, under the circumstances.”

I don’t know if you remember exactly, you only met them once, as far as I know. They weren’t FBI, like they made themselves out to be. They were… Hunters. And not the usual deer-hunting kind. They’d come to town because of a local newspaper article that caught their attention. Strange deaths here in town, you remember the first one. It was the old man, Mr. Gulbert, down the street from us. Granted, it could’ve been drawn up to his age, but it, and the one after, was strange enough to draw the Winchesters to us.

I led them into the living room and gestured for them to sit down. They did, if a bit warily, caught off guard by my insight to the situation.

“Coffee?”

“Yes, please,” they said, in perfect sync. I snorted and walked to the kitchen, the pot having just finished brewing. I poured three cups, not bothering with either milk or sugar. Back in the living room I put the cups on the table and sat down in the armchair across from the Winchesters.

“So, just to get things out on the table, you’re hunters, right?”

“Yeah.” It was Dean who answered, his brother preferring to silently blow on the coffee before taking a big gulp. “Could you maybe at least tell us how you know about hunters?”

“… No.”

“Why?”

“Not relevant. What you two need to know is that the demon doing the killing is about half an hour away from walking through my front door.”

You remember last year, when I was out of the country? I told you I’d be travelling with friends, which in a way was true. But it wasn’t a sudden desire to see the world that had me up and leaving. I was being followed, and I felt like leaving was the only way to keep you, mom and Maria safe. On the road I met some people who could help me, and they told me I had a demon after me. It took some convincing, but eventually I believed them. They killed it, and we parted ways. I didn’t feel safe telling you about it when it happened. After all, I was of age, and could leave if I wanted, and it seemed like the best way.

Even before the murders here at home started, I knew what was going on. Cliché as it sounds, there’s no easy way to say this. It was a demon who was killing people, and I knew who it was. See, a few weeks ago I noticed something was off about mom.

“Wait, what?”

“I know who the demon is,” I explained. Dean looked downright flabbergasted.

“How?”

“I saw the signs. For example, she’s the biggest tea drinker I’ve ever known and has this teapot made of solid iron. One day she stopped using it, wouldn’t even go near it.” “So who is it?” Oh right.

“My mother.” At this both of them just stared at me. “What?”

“Nothing, just that you’re basically telling us that your mother is the one we have to go after.” I stood up and started pacing the room. It was a big deal. In fact, I hated this whole situation, whether I acted like it or not. Had Dean and Sam not shown up I would’ve had to take care of the demon inside my mom myself. I didn’t know whether to be relieved or angry that I wouldn’t have to do it. I didn’t even know if it was really my place. But it seemed to have landed on my shoulders, since no one else in the family knew about demons, let alone how to destroy one. I knew enough to make it go away, but there was absolutely no guarantee that the demon had preserved my mother’s body.

“I know I am, but this can’t go on. Two people have died so far, and the rest of my family can’t be on the list of other potential targets. The demon has to go.” I turned I back on them, not wanting them to see my face. Hiding what I felt was something I’d learnt after the first demon incident in my life, but it didn’t mean it always held.

“Well alright then,” Dean said. I heard them get up from the couch and spun around.

“What else do you know about this demon?” Sam asked.

“It’s arrogant, dominant, narcissistic. Not openly, but I noticed. I would’ve chalked it up to good old psychopathy, aside from the fact that it was like a switch flipped and she became a completely different person. I guess demons aren’t always as good at acting as they probably should be, or they just don’t fucking care.”

“Do you know why it stayed here?”

“What do you mean?” I frowned.

His question caught me by surprise. It hadn’t occurred to me that maybe that wasn’t normal demon behaviour to stay with the family of the host. But this one did. Had it just up and left, none of this would have happened, and right now I wish it had, despite losing mom in the process. If it had, Maria would still be here. What the Winchesters ended up explaining, it crushed me…

“What do you mean they ‘usually’ move on?”

“Demons need a body to be able to operate topside. Without one, they’re a cloud of black smoke. The fact that it stayed here, in your mother, means it’s got business to finish in this town, and we need to know what it is.” “What are you…” I trailed off, seeing the answer on their faces. “You’re actually going to torture it? How?”

“You can find out, if you want,” Dean said, and I looked at him. “But I doubt you do. It’s basically wearing your mother as a suit, which means you’d see…”

“I’d see you torturing my mom. You’re right, I don’t want to see that.”

“But you’re still letting us do it?” I looked him in the eyes.

“Yes.”

Picking up the mugs from the table I walked back to the kitchen and put them in the sink. Glancing at the clock, I saw my mom- the demon, would be home in about twenty minutes. Sam and Dean were standing in the kitchen doorway when I turned back around.

“You’ve got twenty minutes until it’s back.” Dean looked at his brother.

“Sam?”

“Right.” Sam left and walked out the front door.

“Where’s he going?”

“We need to prepare.”

“Prepare” meant drawing devil’s traps on the floors and ceilings, lining every door and window with salt and blessing gallons of water. They asked to use the basement for the torture. I’d do anything they asked at that point. At the last minute, it occurred to me to ask about mom.

“Dean,” I said, grabbing his arm just as he was following Sam into an adjoining room to hide until the demon came through the door.

“Yeah?”

“Is my mom… Is she going to make it?” He turned to fully face me and looked me right in the eye.

“I think you know the answer to that, Jules.” I clenched my jaw, waiting for him to say it. He sighed. “If the demon hasn’t already killed her, the torture could.” That was the closest I were going to get, so I let go of his arm. He pushed the door almost closed behind him and Sam, and I went about business as usual. It wasn’t long before I heard my mother’s car in the driveway.

What happened next was gruesome. We hadn’t counted on the demon having the foresight to have brought Maria, and as soon as it stepped through the door it knew something was wrong. The Winchesters actually managed to trap the demon and get it down to the basement. But not before it killed Maria.

I didn’t follow them down, partly because when the demon realised who had trapped it, there wasn’t even a hint of mom left. Another reason was to keep watch of the house. For all we knew, Dean explained, the demon could have backup in other families. Unlikely, but it could be. I heard it though. I heard the screams, the crashes and… the laughter. The demon was laughing. It loved the idea of it’s “meatsuit’s” daughter hearing everything that happened. All of a sudden the whole house started to shake and rumble. Then everything went quiet.

Sam and Dean came up from the basement, hands covered in blood. Sam didn’t look me in the eye, and instead left the house immediately. Dean’s eyes followed his brother until the door slammed behind him. Then he turned to me. I didn’t say anything, just waited for him to say it.

“Your mom didn’t make it.” I let out a breath I didn’t realise I’d been holding.

“Was it the demon?” I’d expected him to look away, ashamed, but he didn’t. “I don’t know. It wouldn’t talk, at first, and we realised this demon had been around a long time. It was… enjoying itself.”

“Yeah, I heard…”

“We did find out one thing though. The demon was after you.” My eyes widened.

“Why?”

“No idea.”

“Oh, great.” I tossed my arms in the air. “What the fuck do I do now? I can’t stay here.”

“Why not? The demon’s dead.”

“If you honestly think I could keep living here with my dad after all this then you’re damaged beyond imagining.” He didn’t object to that.

The demon was dead, but so were mom and Maria. Sam and Dean were leaving after getting rid of the bodies. The police couldn’t find out what happened, and they were good at covering up what they’d done. However, all this left the problem of what the hell I was going to do next.

I’m sorry, dad. I couldn’t stay, and I hope you understand why. Twice now demons have come after me, and I can’t let them get to you too. I don’t know if me leaving will keep them away from you, but staying definitely wouldn’t. It’s my fault, what you’re facing now, and I’m so sorry.

It was the best day of my life when you and mom decided to take me in and adopt me. I couldn’t believe my luck! I’ve loved all three of you since that day, and I’ll never stop. I hope you can forgive me.

Love,

Jules

@carryonmyswansong

Note: Anyone else want to be tagged, let me know :D

#Supernatural fanfic #supernatural fanfiction #Sam Winchester #dean winchester #original female character #fanfic ofc #more tags soon #a hunter's life for me

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wildefiction · 5 years

Text

Of Course...Mr. Collins

TWELVE

With a soft click, the door shut behind Misha, and, as he walked towards the elevator the quiet swish of his shoes over the carpet accompanied him. Pulling his phone from the pocket of the loose denim jeans he wore, he scrolled through his contacts, skimming over Vicki’s phone number as he rose the device to his ear. Knowing the elevator would likely interrupt his conversation, he elected to take the stairs.

The resounding echo of the heavy iron door sounded behind him just as she answered the phone.

“Hey babe, just wanted to check-in. We’re all settled into our rooms and I’m on my way to check in with Creation.” “How are the kiddos?” Smiling at the sound of his wife’s voice, Misha began the long descent towards the bottom floor.

“So, I actually wanted to talk to you ab–” “Yeah..ha. You know me so well love.”

Vicki had been expecting the conversation since the first night she’d met [Y/F/N]. Frankly she was surprised it hadn’t come up sooner.

“Just remember the rules Mish. And if at any point it gets more serious for you than a casual relationship, we can talk through that too. I’m interested in [Y/F/N] as well ya know?” “Anyways, I’ve gotta get going - the kids need lunch and West has decided he’s not interested in wearing clothes all of a sudden. Like father, like son…” Her soft laughter echoed through the speaker as she said good-bye to her husband.

Sliding the phone back into his pocket, Misha mused over the rules of their agreement. There were three. 1. Be safe. 2. No un-discussed commitment and 3. Family comes first. There had only been one time in the last ten years that he had felt strongly enough towards a girlfriend to bring up the second conversation. Occasionally, his heart still twinged when he thought of her - but ending the relationship had been for the best when she had tried to take Vicki’s place.

Shaking his head to clear the fog that threatened to dampen his mood, he slid dark glasses over his eyes as he stepped from the stairwell out into the sun.

Back upstairs, you stood beneath the waterfall shower heads with your eyes closed, the steam rolling through the room releasing the tension from your aching muscles. Although the flight had only been six hours, combined with the early wake up call and lack of proper sleep, you were starting to feel the exhaustion.

Twenty minutes later, as you stood blow-drying the last of your hair, you heard Misha knocking on your adjoining door.

“One sec!” you shouted, turning off the blow dryer so you could run to find a pair of shorts before opening the door.

“Hey [Y/F/N], ready for lunch? The low rumbling in your stomach chose that moment to speak up and answer for you.

“I’ll take that as confirmation!” “Why don’t we order in and eat out on the balcony?”

“Sounds good to me,” you mentioned as you padded over to the large windows, drawing the thick curtains to one side before stepping through them.

The warmth immediately seeped through your skin, as the sun shone down on the table from above you.

“So, [Y/F/N] have you had time to think about the conversation we started earlier?” Your cheeks flushed as you nodded. Normally you weren’t this shy, but there was something about Misha that made you unsure of yourself.

“Actually, yes.” Sitting back in one of the wooden chairs clustered around the table, you committed to the idea of asking all the questions you had, regardless of how embarrassing or private they might seem.

“First though, I have one request. Just..just tell me if I ask or talk about something that crosses some line. Okay?”

“I’m an open book [Y/F/N]. Clear and concise communication is important in relationships like ours after all.”

“And just what does this ‘relationship’ of ours entail Mr. Collins?” Raising one eyebrow in a self-satisfied smirk, the curling of your lip spoke volumes, while out loud, you’d said only a simple sentence.

As much as you thought your challenging expression was good - Misha’s own left eyebrow raised a few inches, instantly making you shudder as his normally bright eyes began to darken.

“We’ve already covered this [Y/F/N], do you really want to test me? Sitting forward, the low chuckle that rumbled up from his chest sent bolts of lightning through your body and breathing became difficult as you slipped once again into your own imagination.

“No you don’t, missy.” Reaching forward, Misha wrapped his fingers around your own, pulling you from the daydream before it even began. A loud rapping on the door alerted the two of you to the room service that waited just outside.

“Why don’t you go get our lunch Ms. [Y/L/N]?” Nodding silently, you rose from the chair across from your boss, disappearing behind the curtain as you moved towards the door.

Stopping to grab your wallet from the bag wrapped up on the couch, you pulled the door open while staring down into its contents. How much were you supposed to tip room service?

“Oh..m’sorry I uh..mus’ve the wrong room.” Your hands stilled as the familiar voice curled around in your mind. Raising wide eyes to the man standing in the doorway, the wallet dropped from your hands as you tried your best to not stare.

“Fuucck m-me..” the whisper fell from your lips before you could stop it.

Obviously he heard, as one corner of his face pulled up into a slight smile. Blinking, you stooped to retrieve your fallen wallet, but he grabbed it first. As his hands tucked the contents back into the leather, he smirked “nice wallet.”

“Reedus! How you been buddy?” Thrusting an arm out from behind you, Misha shook the man’s hand as his other arm curled around your waist. Eyes widening, you looked down at the fingers digging into your skin and back up at Misha, who was still talking with Norman and hadn’t looked at you.

“Norman, this is my new assistant [Y/F/N], [Y/F/N] this i-”

“Is..Norman Fucking Reedus…” While you worked to get your expression under control, the man standing outside the door reached forward to shake your hand.

“Nice to meet you [Y/F/N].” Turning his attention back to Misha he explained that he’d been looking for Jeff, but must’ve gone to the wrong building.

“Nah man, it was good to see you - we should catch up sometime this weekend.”

As the two men said their goodbyes, you backed out of Misha’s embrace and retreated back onto the balcony - the sun warming your skin again as you waited for Misha to return.

Lunch was quiet, thoughts of Norman and of Misha’s unexpected grip on your waist invaded your mind while you talked with your boss. Of course they were friends, did you really expect anything else? With JDM having been on both Supernatural and The Walking Dead, it had made sense that the circles of friends would’ve mixed at some point right?

“So boss, is there anyone you don’t know?” You chided the man across from you as you finished the grilled salmon on your plate.

“You’d be surprised [Y/F/N], series actors usually run in the same circles, it’s a smaller community than you might think.”

Satisfied with your lunch, you were surprised at how quickly fatigue set in again. For some reason, you couldn’t shake the exhaustion.

Showering…eating..nothing had worked. Stifling another yawn, you excused yourself from the table.

“Hey Mish, if it’s cool, I’m gonna take a nap. Try to get caught up on sleep so I can actually function this weekend?”

“I could actually use a nap myself.” Rising from his chair, he reached out for your hand and pulled you into the darkened space of his room. Lowering himself to the large bed, he pulled you forward until you fell with a soft grunt beside him. Curling an arm around your waist, he drew you tightly in against his chest, your heart pounding at the contact. You still didn’t know what type of relationship this was supposed to be with Misha, but right now you just didn’t care, eyes drifting shut with the warmth of the man next to you as you cuddled into his body.

Several hours later, you groaned as you rolled over, eyes blinking open as you woke in the darkness. The bed next to you was empty and you sat up, looking around at the rumpled blankets and your wrinkled clothes.

Yawning, you reached over to the small wooden table next to the bed, flicking the screen on your phone and noting it was almost nine o’clock. So..midnight back home. Of course you’d be wide awake at midnight right? Ambling over to the balcony door, you slid the heavy glass open, and were pleasantly surprised as warm tropical currents danced through the curtains.

“Seventy degrees at midnight? Fuck this, I’m going to the beach!” Grinning to yourself, you skipped into the adjacent room and began rifling through your luggage to find one of your swim suits.

Since it was dark outside and you had no intention of getting in the water, you opted for the new green one given to you by your sister, not bothering to close your door since Misha was apparently nowhere to be found. After tying yourself into the contraption, you slid dark jean shorts over the bottoms and grabbed a towel from the bathroom before tying your long [Y/H/C]hair into a messy bun atop your head.

The halls were quiet as you walked barefoot to the elevator. The glass walls filled with moonlight as you descended from your tower like some proverbial princess. Once on the ground, you skirted around the hotel pools, filled with families and drinking coeds, instead choosing to walk out to the relatively empty sand lining the beach; rolling waves crashing over each other a few yards away before sluicing across your toes as you stood at the edge of the water.

Stepping from the shorts you’d worn through the hotel, you set them further away from where you stood before folding your legs under you and lying back on the sand.

Norman had looked up from his conversation around the pool just in time to see you walk out of the hotel, eyes briefly lifting to the crowds of people before changing course and moving through a stand of trees flanking one side of the tower. Excusing himself from the people around him, he grabbed his drink and trailed after you. Stopping in his tracks when you slid the shorts from your hips, he sucked in a breath at the sight of the dark green swim bottoms hugging your tight ass. He very nearly turned back the other way, but decided at the last moment to go say hello again, his own bare feet quiet as he moved across the beach.

“Hey..it’s [Y/F/N]…right?” The deep voice made you turn to look over your shoulder at the person approaching you.

“Uh..yeah. Hello again Mr. Reedus.” Smiling up at the man as he stood next to you, the thought briefly crossed your mind that you were half naked on a beach in Hawaii talking to one of your celebrity crushes.

Perhaps it was the shroud of darkness or maybe it was how he’d found you, but you weren’t nervous like you had been earlier.

“Min’ if I join ya? ‘S gettin’ a bit crow’de by the pool.” Looking up and down the beach, there still weren’t many people around, and the sand stretched for miles. Clearly he wanted to be near you.

“Sure.” A soft smile lingered over your mouth as he lowered himself to the ground next to you.

“So, how d’ya like workin’ for Misha s’far?”

“Well, I mean, I’m on the beach in Hawaii, so I can’t really complain right?” Smirking as you raised your arms out in front of you for emphasis, he chuckled.

“Though truth be told, I haven’t really done much work actual work yet. Kind’ve expected to be running around and being at his beck n’ call. Guess it’s only day one though right?”

A quiet sound of understanding was his acknowledgement of your answer.

“This yer firs’ time on the islands?”

“Yeah, it’s amazing. And to think, two weeks ago I was upset about losing my last job.”

“Who’dya work fer before?” Norman was unconsciously playing with a pile of sand, stacking the wet grains into random shapes between his outstretched legs.

You and Norman spoke for a few hours, hidden away by yourselves on that little stretch of beach. He seemed content to have someone to talk to and you realized, like Misha, that he was just a normal person. You learned he was in Hawaii filming his newest television series while on hiatus from The Walking Dead.

“Well, you should take me for a ride sometime, Mr. Reedus. I haven’t been on a bike in years.” You’d said the sentence without giving it much thought and Norman considered you for a moment before agreeing, a shy smile ghosting over his features.

Pulling his phone from his pocket, he held it out to you, encouraging you to put your number into his contacts list. After sending you a text with his number, he turned off the screen and rose to his feet, reaching a hand down to help you up.

“So uh..’re ya with Misha then?” The question came suddenly and when you turned to look at him, he was staring off at the foaming waves as they crashed over each other.

“What do you mean?” Cocking your head to the side, you wondered why he was asking. The look on his face was answer enough - his meaning was clear.

“Oh! Uh…no? I mean, he’s married - ya know?” Your voice was quiet as you looked back at him, confusion evident on your face.

“Why would you think that?”

“ ‘S nuthin’. Jes was wonderin’.” “C’n I walk ya back?”

Turning, you began to walk with the man next to you, wondering what it was that he had been talking about just now. When you got to the elevator and stepped inside, you realized his room was a few floors down from yours as you both reached forward to press the relevant buttons on the display. As the elevator ascended towards the top floor, Norman turned to you and opened his arms.

“C’n I get a hug gu-nih sweetheart?”

“Uhm, yeah, of course! Who would say no to that?!” “Savin’ myself a nice chunk of cash, gettin’ hugs for free!” Laughing you stepped forward and he folded you into his arms, crushing you against his chest. His subtle cologne mixed with the heat of his body was heady and you inhaled deeply before stepping back from his embrace.

“This ‘s me.” He rumbled as the car eased to a stop, the entry smoothly opening. As he stepped out, he turned back and smiled before waving as the doors closed with a quiet hush.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

TAGS: @jamielea81 @wings-of-a-raven

#WildeFiction #Misha x Reader #Supernatural Fanfiction #SPN x RPF

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just-a-lonely-little-emo · 7 years

Text

As For Me, I’m Doing Okay

--This is a short story i had to write for English Class and i’d like to know your guys’ opinions--

Mental Illness is never an easy thing for anyone to handle. As for me, I seem to be doing okay. My name is Kelly and I suffer from Clinical Depression. I was diagnosed with Clinical Depression when I was 15. I’m currently an 18 year old high school student getting ready to graduate. Before I was diagnosed at 15, I started showing severe symptoms but my parents thought nothing of it. Until this one day; A day that I don’t remember much of. I remember waking up, going to school as if nothing was wrong, coming home and eating my normal snack of an apple and peanut butter, and then going up to my room. I don’t remember much of anything after that.

You see, the suicidal thoughts started happening at the age of 15. I thought nothing of them and thought they were something that every teen goes through. When I asked my friends, however, I found out they weren’t feeling the same way I was. My friend, Javier, said that if I needed to talk to him, I could but I was afraid he would think I’m an attention seeker. My friends noticed a change in my mood, my appearance, everything. Everything they were used to, changed. My school counselor, Ms. Woodworth, called me down to her office to “chat” about how things were going in regards to my school work and participation on the sports teams I was on, but I knew it was going to be about much more than that. As I stepped into her office, she said “Kelly! How nice to see you! Have a seat.” as she flashed her large, welcoming smile and motioned to a large chair on the other side of the desk across from her. I hesitantly sat down in the chair as Ms. Woodworth continued to talk. “How have things been going in school and on the soccer team?” “Eh. Okay I guess.” “Well is there anything in particular about either one of those that’s been bothering you?” “Nothing out of the ordinary. It’s just hard to handle both sometimes.” As I finished that last sentence, my friends walked into her office and she cleared her throat. That’s when I knew that she really didn’t want to talk about school or sports, she wanted to talk about my recent behavior. “Kelly, is there anything wrong that you’d like to share with us?” “No.” “Your friends here, especially Javier, expressed some concern to me about your behavior and personality as of late.” Ms. Woodworth gave me a sympathetic smile as I continued to insist that nothing was wrong and that I was very stressed.

Fast forward to the end of the meeting, and I’m released back to Chemistry 101. My professor, Mr. Collins, holds me back and starts to explain what we had learned in class that day. As I’m standing there listening to him to teach me, I start to cry. Mr. Collins, who is not only my Chemistry professor, but my soccer coach as well, noticed and we sat down. I explained to him every last detail. How I was feeling, what had been going on, how my friends have reacted to my hesitation and lack of participation in group activities, everything. Mr. Collins explained that he was always there in case I needed to talk. I asked to be excused from practice that day and he told me to take all the time I need.

I went home that night, had my snack, and headed up to my room. Instead of staying in my room to do my homework, I went to the bathroom and found a razor blade. I held it in my hand and spun it between my thumb and pointer finger. I stood there for 5 minutes thinking. Thinking about ending it. The last I remember, I’m dragging the blade down my arm, feeling the warm blood drip. I felt satisfied. Satisfied that all of it would end. All of the torture that had been going on in my mind for months. As a lay there, I start to black out. That’s the last I remember. My mom tells me she got home not too long after it happened because I was still making noise, mumbling “Mom, Dad, I’m so sorry i’ve put you through all of this. Sorry. Sorry. Sorry.” She called an ambulance, and as she sat waiting, she cried, begging me to wake up. The paramedics rushed me off to the hospital. They said if I was left there any longer, I could have died. I lost a lot of blood and they weren’t sure if a blood transfusion would do the trick. They told my mother to hang on and hope for the best. I survived, but they said they would have to hold me as soon as I was released to make sure I wouldn’t do anything else to harm myself. I checked up with a psychiatrist and got the diagnosis that I had Clinical Depression. Since then, I’ve gone and seen a therapist once a week, as well as being placed on antidepressants. Shortly after my school found out, they held an assembly on how to recognize the warning signs of depression and suicidal thoughts. My friends have been supportive through this and understand when I don’t feel like partaking in group activity.

I have a fairly large scar from where I made the attempt but the doctors were able to sew it up to prevent me from bleeding out. I’m thankful they were able to save my life but I also wished it would have ended my pain. To this day, this is never an easy topic for me to bring up, and usually whenever people bring it up, I tend to shy away and change the topic the first opportunity I get. I’m not sure how my parents are handling this, but as for me, I’m doing okay.

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martywurst · 7 years

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My First and Worst Year: Producing A Show

I get caught up in the gossip. Shitting on comedians that I barely know. I'm trying to stop that. Early on, I was one those guys that would say something negative because I was trying to start a dialogue and reinforce any negative feelings I had about someone. Usually based in nothing; maybe one lousy first impression or through the grapevine on Facebook. Unfortunately, talking shit is a major way to bond with other inexperienced comics. A lot of miserable, sarcastic, unmotivated, boring comics. Or 10+ year comics that bitch about how unfair everything is. They can't talk to you for 30 seconds without shitting on something.

Now I know that's not me. I never feel good about it and it never helps.

The comics I look up to are modest, rarely say anything bad about anyone because they're just focused. They don't feed the fire. I'd rant about something and they wouldn't have anything to add to it. Maybe something along the lines of,

"Yeah, that can happen," kind of response.

I'd see the look on their face. I'm the problem.

I was the same way in Junior High. Picking on the popular kids and being obnoxious because I was so desperate to be a part of their circle. Afraid to be myself. Afraid to put in that kind of work.

I'll be obsessed with some idiot for hours on a Facebook thread, so tempted to participate in the attack, but where is it going to get me? Fuck, I could've written something. I should be writing jokes now, but I think I know something about blogging and comedy! I feel like I'm just regurgitating boring opinions that have been voiced on hundreds of podcasts already, I'll try to pepper this section up! Check out this sweet ass pimp kitty vest!

I always want to prove myself to other comics. An audience of strangers is always amazing, but I do feel the pressure of an all-comic mic. It's way too important to me. I don't want to be written off, I know I can be funny. Maybe not the last 20 times you saw me, but I'll get there, don't write me off!

When I had a decent set in front of someone I respected, I felt like I could check that off. Okay, that person doesn't think I'm a piece of shit anymore. I proved myself. Getting closer to being an actual comic! Every good set is a stepping stone. My bad sets would just temporarily render me useless. Instead of doing my homework and adjusting, I would just write something new or beat a bad joke into the ground. Maybe it'll work the 27th time.

"The people that go to Burning Man only need these two words to communicate: Burning...man!"

*crickets slashing wrists*

I bombed in front of Sean Conroy and took it kind of hard. Intimidating dude, (like the Ron Perlman of improvisation) he was sitting in the front row at Echoes Under Sunset with his arms crossed, waiting for his set and just watching me hang myself. He'd probably seen a thousand variations of the heckler character I was doing. I picked on him in character, but he wouldn't roll with it. Why would he? It was more fun to watch me squirm.

Every time I asked him a question he would answer,

"Sure."

Which is sort of the "fuck you" version of "yes and," It's an improv thing.

I was berating the audience for being a bunch of hipsters. Yelling out,

"Well I got something for ALL OF YOU!"

Then I started handing out free coffee coupons from a local coffee shop. Sean politely declined.

I had my bombing routine where I would call up Claire afterwards and tell her I just ate shit. Or who I ate shit in front of. She would convince me that it was okay, everybody bombs, and remind me that I'd had good sets before. She would tell me that she loved me and make me feel better about what had happened. Oh, there is life after tomorrow, I forgot! Thanks, baby!

Claire understands the grind. She's a fan of a lot of the people I look up to and we listen to a lot of the same podcasts now. She got into Jen Kirkman and The Longshot Podcast early on and now she subscribes to more comedians than I do. We went to Power Violence and a number of shows at The Improv. Pete Holmes, Todd Glass, Ron Lynch, Eddie Pepitone, Maron, Sebastian, Ian Edwards, and Tig- we love Tig. She pushed me to go on the road. She encouraged me to stop using the train and take her car instead. She makes this all possible. It's unbelievable. She even made cookies when I produced my own show.

I'd done a couple of shows at The Lexington with Tony Bartolone where I did some character stuff. I played a wrestler, a heckler that takes on Mr. Goodnight and a squarish Steve Allen type talk show host. Anyway, the owner liked me enough and said if I ever wanted to use the space, hit him up.

Tony was nice enough to help me too, he ran sound for me. Uggh, I didn't even give him a fucking spot and he ran sound for me- that's how great a guy he is and how SELFISH I can be.

I think the best thing in comedy after doing standup is booking your own show. Reaching for the stars, pulling in friends, what a great position to be in! Compiling a fantasy list of mostly male comics and shooting them a message on Facebook.

So if you're a new comic wondering, how the hell do I get booked on a show?

Well, a moron like me could accidentally see you at an open mic and then end up liking you! And I'm the guy who did a shitty set before you, remember? You never know who could be running shows.

Most people got back to me pretty quick. Comedians love a full calendar.

I adored The Walsh Brothers. So original and twisted. They blew my mind at TigerLily and I finally met the guys through a mutual friend.

Brian Scolaro was someone I had talked to outside of The Comedy Store. He's one of the first comics to give me any kind of advice,

"Don't move To Long Beach."

I was a fanboy of Dean Delray. I heard Matty Goldberg on Danny Lobell's podcast and dug his book about his friendship with Angelo Bowers. Ron Babcock was one of the friendly guys on the scene, loved his standup. I'd worked on a webseries with Paul Danke. Just met a lot of the other comics at open mics. I worked with Jeanne Whitney at Arclight Hollywood and we started standup around the same time. I watched Timika Hall do her first set at Echoes Under Sunset and she was great! Ester Steinberg cracked me up at The Palace and then I wanted to book her after I saw this sketch. She just happened to be hanging out with Neel Nanda when I was booking him, so I got both of them right then and there.

Robert Vertrees was brand new like me, but I just dug his story.

I knew I'd never have to worry about Ken Garr.

Just read his awesome blog entry "One Year Later and Why I Should Quit"

I should've taken note and made my blog shorter! That dude is a complete professional and will never hesitate to give you his tour dates at the MGM in Las Vegas.

Jak Knight was edgy and exciting. Jon Durnell was the best thing about a bringer show I did at the Formosa. I didn't even know Lisa Landry, but Brian asked if she could be on. Same thing with Kevin James Moore, a buddy of Matty's.

Maagic Collins is one of the kindest souls I've ever met. I love his standup. He would show up to my afternoon Tribal mic on Saturdays. Very supportive guy.

I think I saw Rick Wood at Power Violence and he just blew me away.

Anyway, you get the fucking point, this was just an excuse to drop everyone's links. Jesus Christ.

One time I made the amateur mistake of messaging too many people at once and then having to tell one comic I'd put them on the next show. I got a lot of grief for that and I was pulling my hair out. I was getting a guilt trip from the disappointed comic and now I didn't want to book him at all. It was totally my fault, but I was just getting through the learning curve. Book carefully, and wait for your damn responses.

Another recurring thing that kept coming up is a comic wanting to bring a friend for a guest spot. It's a good rule of thumb to keep a spot open for a possible drop-in. Or just book less comics Marty. Aren't you glad you paid $200 for this helpful comedy workshop tip?

I was also planning on doing all these wacky sketches and transitions that had nothing to do with the stand-up comedy. I wanted to make it an event. I asked Chris Walsh if we could have an extended dialogue where the Walsh Brothers get in an argument with me and then pretend to shoot me from the audience...so now I'm suddenly on the level of The Walsh Brothers! Proposing bits. Chris was really nice about it and declined in the best way possible. He made me realize that I should only work on the hosting- not all this extra dressing. I'd be stressed out enough. Plus, The Walsh Brothers have their own thing going on and it's hilarious.

Claire helped me with some basic PR stuff; shooting out emails to various websites with LA calendars of events. Lot of people check online for free entertainment. I hit up LA Weekly early enough to get this delightful blip:

Did I pay anyone? I paid Dean Delray. I paid Brian Scolaro. It seems a little unfair now, I had The Walsh Brothers, Ron Babcock, Paul Danke, and Matty Goldberg, who all have a shitload of experience.

I got this dumb idea that I should write thank you notes to everyone else. Looking back, I gave comedians false hope of money in those envelopes, only to find a badly scrawled "thank you" with some shitty stick figure doodles. At least there were cookies at the gig.

Brian mentioned the 50 bucks onstage and I was really embarrassed. It exposed the inner-workings of my inexperience and that I was holding out on everyone else. I think I would do it differently now, but it was a free show.

Tony watched me have a mini-meltdown. I was stressing out because there was a band that was booked on a show immediately after and it was clear that I was going to run over their time. I thought if I gave up my own set and kept bringing the next comic up, we'd finish on time without cutting anyone's sets down.

Tony explained to me that I shouldn't of worried about that, that it was worse to bring the comics up cold. It's better to keep the audience warmed up, but I was hopping back on stage saying,

"Give it up for Ron Babcock, and now let's keep it moving- Matty Goldberg!"

I didn't get it. I thought running over my time would fuck things up and I'd never get to do a show again. I shouldn't of booked so many comics anyway- Paul Danke was going on dead last, and he'd been waiting around so long, I felt horrible. I should buy his album.

So don't sacrifice your time for the sake of the next show- be a good host, Wurst.

But that first show had a great turnout, especially for The Lexington. The comics were kind of impressed. That extra leg work paid off.

I remember I wanted to bring Dean Delray up to a Led Zeppelin song and I kept bothering Tony about it when the order changed. Then when the music came up, Dean was clearly stoked and that little moment meant a lot to me.

On his way out he yelled,

"Congratulations on your 1st year of stand up!"

Speaking of which, I asked Melina Paez if I could be in her "DropTheSoapTV" series, where comics do stand-up in her shower. It was a fun way to cap off my first year.

Okay, that was rather manic. Just a couple steps away from Denis Leary- uggh. Anyway, I STOPPED doing that. Here's a message to myself as I time-travel back to the shower,

Horrible jokes, asshole! Your taint is hilarious by the way.

I just want to thank the people that encouraged me or gave me useful information when I started bumbling my way through open mics that first year (July 2013-2014)

Brett Gilbert, Ric Rosario, Matty Goldberg, Tony Bartolone, Jason Van Glass, Ron Babcock, Dean Delray, Chris Walsh, Matt Walsh, Danny Lobell, Mollie Gross, Melina Paez, Brian Scolaro, Jamie Flam, Jeremiah Watkins, Mike Celestino, Justin Alexio, Neel Nanda, Mikey de Lara, Paul Danke, Ari Mannis, Lydia Robinson, Ryan Doolittle, Maagic Collins, Don Barris, Elissa Rosenthal, Rob Antus, K-von, Jarrett and Emily Galante, Christiane Georgi, Hiro Matsunaga, Greg James, Carly Craig, Matthew Hilton, Sally Mullins, Matt Sauter, Matt Gamarra, Donald McKinney, Ryan Kain, Jeremy Fultz, Del Weston, Derick Armijo, Alisha Morine, Nicole Malina, Devon Schwartz, Andy Salamone, Barbara Gray, Sean Conroy, Myles Weber, Ricky Winston, Frankie Ma, Rishi Arya, Brandon Birckz, Sean K., Mike Menendez, Jamar Neighbors, Mr. Goodnight, Erica Rhodes, Matt Champagne, David Gerhardt, The Martin Duprass, John Silver, Ryan Pfeiffer, Kevin Anderson, Whitney Melton, Kym Kral, Jared Levin, Kenneth Lion, Alex Croll, Adam Carr, Trevor James, Deon Williams, Amber Brashear, Pat Regan, Brad Silnutzer, Rob Weissman, Marty, Graham Curan, Eddie Pepitone, Quincy Johnson, Blythe Metz, Willie Dynamite, Freddy Morales, Marcela Perdomo, Nick Kaufman, Atelston Fitgerald Holder The 1st, Bruce Boiman, Tom Allen, Melissa Villasenor, Maria Bamford, Todd Glass, Lou Perez, Allison Anders, Jeremy Bassett, Tony Alfieri, Laura Niles, Tamoy Sherman, Chaliss Robinson, Eddie Whitehead Jr, Brent Weinbach, Jill Maragos, Jodi Miller, Luz Pazos, Brianna Murphy, Sasha Kapustina, Alain Villenueve, Brad James, Lauren Kiang, Yoav, Ken Garr, David Gregorian, Jordan Leer, Stefano Della Pietra, Down Under Comedy Club, Mike Garrison, Brad and Sara Harris, Thomas Hussey, Harold, Chino, Tiffany Gomes, Simon Gibson, Joe Wagner, Scott Luhrs, Jay Weingarten, Joe Kardon, Pedro Salinas, Willie Dynamite, Robert Vertrees, Amber Kenny, Karah Britton, Alison Tafel, David Hill, Andy Kosec, Micah Lile, Chris Putro, Kris Rubio, Jade Thom, Brodie Reed, Ryan Talmo, Kevin Lee, Kellie Ann, Jeanne Whitney, Jake Kroeger, Nikki Riordan, Tim Mars, Christian Chavez, Jake Adams, Louise Hung, Michael Donato, my Geffen peeps, all my Arclight friends, Stella friends, childhood friends and family that came out to support.

Or if you're just generally nice to me thanks. You gave me the strength to go out and bomb one more time.

Shout out to Mike Celestino's great documentary "That's Not Funny".

and finally To Claire:

For every time I called you up to moan out my discontent, only to be dissuaded from my stubborn misery because of your constant light, love, and gentle reasoning.

For those open mics you'll never be able to unsee.

I love you more than open mic comedians love pussy jokes.

And as you know, that's a hell of a lot.

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atomic-bob · 7 years

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After dark

I wrote this for my English subject. Did it in 15 hours and every hour was worth it. I hope you guys like it.

I came home from working feeling so tired. My whole body was aching and a headache was making it worse. I dropped my bag and my bulky folders as soon as I entered my apartment. I went straight to the bathroom and opened the medicine cabinet. An array of bottles of pills filled it. I took an aspirin and drank water straight from the faucet to push the pill down. I washed my face and my makeup went with the water to the drain. I studied myself in the mirror as I took deep breaths. My hair was a rat’s nest and my eyes were dark and droopy from sleepless nights. The color that made my face seem alive is all gone. The lack of color made the freckles on my cheeks look darker and noticeable.I pushed back the stray hair in attempt to straighten it. My brown hair looked gray against the bathroom light. I turned off the faucet, left the bathroom and went to the bedroom. Clutter of clothes and junk hit my foot as I reached the bed. I stripped down into my underwear and went under the covers. When my head hit the pillow, my body started to loosen. I caressed the end of my pillow. The softness and the warmth of the blanket against my bare skin helped me relax. A few minutes later, my eyes slowly shut then sleep consumed me.

At first I saw nothing, I wasn’t dreaming anything. Then my body suddenly felt weightless. I felt like I was being separated. “Am I flying in this dream?” I thought but all I saw was black. I opened my eyes and I saw myself sleeping on the bed. Surprised and confused, I inched closer to my body. “Am I dead?” I asked myself, “I don’t feel dead though” I continued. My body was almost translucent. I felt my arm and it was warm under my hand. My sleeping self shifted in her sleep. “Not dead” I confirmed, and examined myself for a while. I look so peaceful in my sleep, like nothing bothered me at all. How I wish I was this peaceful when I’m awake. My sleeping self snorted and drooled. I snickered a laugh but then stop. I forgot that this was me. I scanned my room. It was still a mess. Folders and files were everywhere on my desk. The trash can was overflowed with crumpled papers. The bedroom floor was almost covered with clothes and magazines. I walked towards the door. “Can I even touch the doorknob?” I asked, slowly I lowered my hand to the knob. It just went through. I should’ve known, I was practically a ghost in this form. I passed through the door and into the living room. Compared to my bedroom, the living room was organized. The only place that was cluttered was the coffee table. Today’s newspaper and a few books were on top of it. I didn’t stay long. I went out of my apartment. Faint music travelled to my ears. It came from Mrs. Roberts’, my next door neighbor, apartment. She has been my neighbor for two years now. Mrs. Roberts is 60-years old and a widow for twenty years. I went inside and saw her dancing to Clair de Lune. Her arms were held up as if she was holding someone. Her eyes were closed, her lips formed a smile, and her only guide was the music. She twirled and spun around the room with her imaginary partner. Beside the stereo was a picture frame. In the photo was a man and a woman in 80’s clothes. The woman must be Mrs. Roberts during the 80’s. The man had jet black hair and was styled. He had his arm around Mrs. Roberts and was kissing the side of her head. I was examining the photo when I noticed something at the corner of my eye. Next to the window sill, someone was standing. A man in a white tux was watching Mrs. Roberts. His eyes were fixed on her and his head was swaying to the music. He looked like the man in the photo. He saw me and gave me a warming smile. I simply nodded back. Mrs. Roberts didn’t seem to notice me or the man by the window. I left the apartment, leaving Mrs. Roberts and the man alone. The whole building was quiet so I decided to take my adventure to the streets of New York. The city was half-asleep. Most of the stores were closed except for a few 24-hour convenience stores. I strolled down the sidewalk and counted the street lamps that I pass by. I passed by an open diner. Out of curiosity, I went in. The diner had a nice warm atmosphere. There was a jukebox but nothing was playing. The clock behind the counter said it was 3 AM. The chef was the only one in the kitchen and a waitress was cleaning the tables. There were only two customers, one in a booth and one in the counter. The customer in the booth was a truck driver. He looked like his shift had ended and was taking a break before heading home. He was wearing a red plaid shirt and worn out jeans. He has a cap which was on the table. He was sipping his coffee and was in deep thought. In his hand was his wallet. A photo of a young girl smiled at him. He stared at the photo. His eyes gets a little teary. He wiped the corner of his then cleared his throat. He looked at the waitress and the other customer, hoping they didn’t saw him almost crying. After a while, he stood up, left a tip, and exited the diner. The second customer was a man in a suit. His jacket was off and his tie was loosen. He had a stubble working on and he looked stress. “Must be a lawyer” I guessed. The waitress approached him with a coffee pot in her hand. She offered him a refill and he nodded. He was reading a file. I went up behind him and peered over his shoulder. “Blacks versus Life insurance” it read. I was right, he was a lawyer. He had a legal pad next to his elbow. Written on it was details about the case. I leaned closer to read what was on the pad. Apparently a family was denied insurance for a son’s hospital bill. The son was dying and needed to be operated. The company refused to pay for the bill. I read it with disbelief. Some insurance companies are like sharks. They take your money, promising to take care of you, then they’ll refuse to pay your bills. I sat next to the lawyer. He was frowning so hard his eyebrows look like a monobrow. He looked like he hasn’t slept in a month, even worst than how I look in the morning. I stretched out my hand to pat his back but it just went through. “Don’t worry, pal” I told him “you can figure something out”. He didn’t hear me, of course, but I still wanted to assure him. I stood up and left the diner. I was back on the streets. I waited for the pedestrian light to go green. “Wait” I said “I’m a spirit, nothing can harm me”. I crossed the road and halfway there, a speeding car went right through me. It crashed into a fire hydrant. If I wasn’t in spirit form, I could’ve die. But then again, I’m not exactly sure if I was even alive. I remembered the car and rushed to it. The fire hydrant was bent and water was spraying everywhere. The front of the car was badly damaged. The windshield was cracked and a few pieces of glass has gone astray. I inspected the front seat. The driver wasn’t moving. His head was on the steering wheel. Blood stained his temple. At first, I thought he was dead but then he shifted. He groaned in pain and slowly lifted his head. He looked disorientated. He looked at my direction and his eyes met with mine. I turned around to see what he was looking at but nothing was there. Confused, I turned back to face him “Can he see me?” I asked to myself. To my surprise, he nodded to my question. It was impossible for someone to see me since I wasn’t in physical form. Well, I think no one can see me. “That’s not possible” I told him “This isn’t my physical body”, he simply shrugged. He doesn’t say much, he only answered in gestures. “Are you in shock? Is that why you can’t speak?” I asked him. He shook his head and tapped his lips. He was mute. His eyes were red and his pupils were fully dilated. His hand was twitching a little. “Are you high?” I asked again and he nodded. That must be the reason why he can see me. “I would love to help you but I can’t” I said “People can’t see me and I just pass through walls” I explained even further. I waved him goodbye and went away. I hope someone will help him soon.

I reached Brooklyn bridge. I walked silently, admiring the view, and appreciating the silence. At the distance, I saw a woman. She was wearing a blue velvet gown and a white fur jacket. Diamonds dripped on her neck and ears. She was wearing white gold on her wrists and fingers. She obviously just came from an exclusive party. She was leaning on the edge of the bridge. She tucked a golden strand behind her ear and I recognized her face. It was Natalie Collins. She was a known actress who starred in many films. I’m surprised to see her in Brooklyn bridge. Her hands were gripping the sides that her knuckles turned white. She was sniffling and tears rolled down her cheek. She wiped away a tear, smearing her mascara. She stared at the quiet blue waves below the bridge. She was mumbling to herself. I couldn’t understand a word she said. She would back away from the bridge as if she was hesitating but she’ll come back to the edge like she finally decided to do it. I came to her side. I wanted to give her a hug and comfort her. I wanted to tell her everything’s okay. I wanted to tell her that whatever she was facing will end soon. I wanted to tell her that she’s not alone. A cool breeze blew and she leaned off the bridge as if the wind pushed her. I reached out my hand but I couldn’t hold her. My hand just went through. I couldn’t stop her from falling off. I watched gravity took her down and the water swallowing her. I lost the feeling of my legs and fell down. I sat there for a few minutes. My mind slowly processed of what just happened. I could’ve prevented that. I could’ve stop her from jumping. But I wasn’t able to do any of those. My vision blurred and I saw the ground getting wet by my tears. I didn’t personally knew Natalie Collins, I wasn’t even a fan. But seeing her take her own life made me feel guilty. I slowly stood up, being careful not to fall down again. I held on the side to support myself. I walked off the bridge with the weight of guilt on my shoulders.

I walked aimlessly, having no sense of direction. My mind was blank and my heart was filled with remorse. The next thing I knew, I was in a little girl’s bedroom. I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going that I didn’t notice I walked into someone’s house. The room was dark but I could still see that it was pink. Toys were neatly organized in one corner. The walls were designed with flowers and trees. And one wall has a white castle painted on it. The little girl was wearing pink pajamas and a crown. This child is a pink princess. I felt embarrassed for barging into this girl’s room. I turned to leave when the lights turned on. The little girl was wide awake and sitting up. Her green eyes stared at me with great focus. She opened her mouth to say something but I quickly shushed her. I didn’t want her parents to wake up. I needed to think of something so she won’t be afraid of me. “Hey, there” I greeted her “I’m your imaginary friend”. Her face lit up and smiled. I smiled back “Don’t make any sound or you’ll wake up mommy and daddy, okay?”, she nodded her head. “You should go back to sleep” I told her “so you can grow up big and strong”. I approached her bed. She just watched me, didn’t even flinched when I went near. I watched as she tucked herself in and was about to leave when she took a book under her pillow. She handed it to me. I stared at the book in confusion then I realized that she wanted me to read it to her. “I can’t read it to you-” I tried to explain but was cut off because she looked at me with sad eyes. I sighed and gave up. I told her she’ll have to hold the book while I read it. I read her the book and a few pages later, she was fast asleep. Her rosy round cheeks and curly brown made her look like a cherub. I left the house and continued my stroll. I felt a little better after my encounter with the little girl. Two people already saw me so far, three if I included the ghost. The dead husband, the high mute driver and the little girl. The driver was on drugs so that could probably explain why he can see me. But the little girl wasn’t high or anything. She didn’t look like she hit her head. So why can she see me? I try to come up with reasons how can people see me but none of them add up. I need more information. I walked down to downtown. There were a few establishments open. One of them was a strip club. I never been into a strip club, fearing someone I know might see me going into one. This might be my only chance entering one without anyone recognizing me. I decided to enter at the back. Inside was a huge dressing room. Each dressing table was a woman applying makeup on her face or glitter on her body. All of them were in a hurry. A man came inside the room and announced that the next show was in five minutes. On the last dressing table was a woman wearing a red lingerie. She was struggling with her lingerie, trying to tighten it around the waist. The man came up to her and scolded her for being slow. He threatened to fire her. She begged him not to. She held his hand but he flicked it away. She kept tugging his sleeves and pleading not to fire her. The man had enough. He pushed the woman down. The room was still as this was happening. The man stormed away while warning the others that he will fire them if they slack off. The woman held her belly as if to protect it. She stood up and the laces were undone. I can now see that it was a little pudgy. Her co-workers asked if she was okay. She nodded and re tied the laces. I looked at her in pity. She was forced to take this job for whatever reason. Now she’s facing one of the results of this job. Her name was called and she went to the stage as if nothing happened backstage. I left the club and started to regret entering it. Surviving in this world is getting harder and harder. How can someone take pleasure while someone’s suffering? I shook my head in disgust and tried to think of something else. The sky turned from midnight blue into purple. Dawn was passing and it was almost morning. I went to the one place that I loved.

I entered the park and a calming energy flowed through my body. The trees were turning orange because of the change of seasons. Some trees started to change color, some refuse to change just yet. I walked down the path feeling calm. I saw a few squirrels on top of trees, ready to start collecting food for the winter. Birds were already on the hunt for worms. I heard a rustle to my side. The bush was shaking and rustling. I waited for something to come out but nothing did. “Must be an opossum” I thought. I went to the center of the park. The magnificent fountain was turned off. The carvings on its side were beautiful and mysterious. I traced my hand on the shaped stone. It was telling a story about a playboy who bewitches every woman he meets. But the most fairest woman wasn’t convinced by him. The playboy made it his mission to make her fall in love with him. They played the game of love, soon the woman found it difficult and falls in love with him. The playboy then casts her aside as if he was tired of her. The story always fascinated me and made me wonder what happened to the woman. Did she vowed to never love again or did she found better love? I’ll never know. I sat down at one of the benches and watched the sky lighten up to a day. I thought about the things I saw tonight. My next door neighbor dancing in her apartment while her deceased husband watched her. A truck driver, who just got off work, holding his daughter’s photo. A very tired lawyer working so late at night for a case. A driver that got in an accident because he was on drugs. A famous celebrity who came from a party jumped off the Brooklyn bridge. A little girl, in her pink princess room, asking me to read for her to sleep. A stripper, who was forced to take her job, is gonna be a mom if she’ll keep the kid. Only three people saw me, the first one was a ghost, the other was almost at death’s doorstep, and the last was young and innocent. I think the only people who can see me are either dead, dying, or innocent. But I can’t really prove this theory that I came up. I don’t know if I’ll remember any of this when I wake up. I don’t even know if this is a dream or not. If I did remember, my life would never be the same ever. If I’m dead, will I be able to go to the other side? I watched the sun rise up. I decided that it was time to walk back home.

I passed by the strip club and the little girl’s house. The club was just closing down. A group of females went out of the club. One of them was the stripper I saw earlier. The lights in the little girl’s house were turned on. I can see a woman in the kitchen making breakfast. I walked pass by the spot where Natalie Collins jumped off hours ago. The pedestrian light was red but I still crossed the same road where the accident happened. The street was wet but the hydrant wasn’t spraying water anymore. There was no sign of the car or the driver. I passed diner. There were already a few customers inside eating breakfast and sipping their first cup of coffee. All of them were about to go to their jobs after their meals. I recounted the street lamps that I passed by. I finally reached the apartment building. I entered the building and I can hear my neighbors getting ready for the day. I went up to my floor. Mrs. Roberts’ door was slightly open and I can hear her cooking bacon and listening to AM radio. She was humming along with the tune playing on the radio. Finally, I reached my apartment. I went through the door and the living room looked exactly the way I left it. I went to my bedroom and there I was on the bed. I was still sleeping soundly. The clock on my bedside table said it was 7:58 in the morning, two minutes before the alarm goes off and waking me. I went to sleep around 9 PM last night. I have been wandering around the streets of New York for six hours. This was the weirdest dream I ever had and I was ready to wake up. I examined my sleeping self one more time. My hair had gotten even messier because of the tossing and turning. One of my pillows was already on the floor. Drool was dripping on one side of my cheek. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. The alarm went off and woke me up.

#AfterDark #15hoursofwriting #worthit #shortstory

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anavoliselenu · 7 years

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Beautiful lies chapter 21

Selena trains her gaze on me and her challenging smirk tells me she knows exactly what game she's playing. Bad little girl. She'll be spanked later for trying to rile me up like this.

I raise an eyebrow in question and Selena shuts off the spray of water and wraps a towel around herself, covering up all of those beautiful assets.

A shriek pierces the otherwise peaceful setting and all eyes dart over to the patio doors. Kylie is toting a screaming baby on her hip and a beach bag overflowing with diapers and baby toys in the other arm.

I cross the stone walkway and take the bag from her shoulder – no way I'm offering to take a screaming baby. A calm one, I might attempt, but not this thing. He's taking lessons from a banshee, I'm sure of it. No other possible explanation for how he'd be able to reach those octaves, otherwise.

"Thanks. And sorry about Max," Kylie says, accepting my help.

"Not a problem. Is everything…okay?" I ask, lifting an eyebrow at the banshee, I mean baby, in question.

"He's been like this for days. Cries nonstop. He's teething," she explains.

"Then let's get you a glass of wine. Anything I can get for the little guy?" I ask.

She shakes her head. "No, hopefully he'll quiet down. I'm so sorry, I don’t want him to ruin the party."

"He's not, Kylie. Not at all. Come, please, relax." I lead her over to the bar, where Pace and Collins have been parked all afternoon.

Pace rises to his feet, assuming the role of bartender. "What can I get ya?"

"Pace, Collins, this is Kylie. She's the mastermind behind my charity organization."

Introductions are exchanged while Pace pours Kylie a white wine.

"Are you sure you don't want something stronger?" Collins asks, smiling at the still wailing baby in her arms.

"I'm pretty sure my eardrums burst two days ago." She explains, for their benefit, that the little guy is teething.

"Let me take him," Pace offers, crossing around the bar and stopping before Kylie. "Do you mind?"

Her eyebrows shoot up her forehead in surprise. I'm just as shocked. Pace is a tomcat on the prowl, but even he's not stupid enough to try and seduce another of my employees- especially not one who's a single mother.

"You can try…" No sooner than the words are out of Kylie's mouth and the baby's in Pace's arms – his crying stops entirely. The sudden silence surprises us all and we stand there, staring at Pace holding a baby.

"Hey little man," Pace says, bouncing the baby with one arm.

The baby stares blankly at my goofy brother, his giant blue eyes blinking against the sunlight as he takes it all in.

The baby grabs Pace's sunglasses, pulls them from his face and begins chewing on the end.

"I'm so sorry, he's got teething toys in here somewhere," Kylie says, rushing to dig through the giant bag at her feet.

"We're cool," Pace says, sauntering away with the little guy.

"What is he, the baby whisperer?" Collins jokes.

We all shrug and Kylie takes a giant sip of her wine, her eyes on Pace and her son.

Pace spends most of the afternoon with the baby, holding him, bouncing him on his knee, swimming with him in the pool… and Max remains quiet and content throughout the entire thing – his wide blue eyes pinned on the man holding him the entire time.

"Is he usually like this with babies?" Kylie finds me and asks.

"This is a first," I admit.

She chews on her lip and watches them splash around in the shallow end of the pool. I have no idea what she's thinking and frankly, I don’t want to know. Pace and Kylie would be a terrible idea.

Later we sit down to a perfect meal prepared by Beth, and Pace relinquishes his hold on the baby only long enough to eat, passing him over to Selena so that Kylie can eat in peace. Pace may have been fine babysitting all afternoon, but nothing will stand in between him and the pile of ribs on his plate. It's just as well, he'd probably eat the baby's arm off by mistake.

The sight of Selena with a baby in her arms does something strange to me. My heart flutters in my chest and I absently press my palm against it, trying to get it to beat normally once again. What the hell? Selena's babbling something to him, something I can't quite make out, but her voice is whisper soft and sweet, unlike I've ever heard before. I decide that I like it. Quite a lot.

She sits down with him on her lap and feeds him little bites of crackers that she's broken into tiny pieces. I never knew this could be so captivating, but for some damn reason, they have captured my absolute attention.

***

When Selena and I crawl into bed that night, we're both suntanned and lethargic from the afternoon spent entertaining.

"I'm glad our families met," she says around a yawn.

"Me too."

"What did you and my dad talk about?"

I guess she noticed that I commandeered him all afternoon.

"Mostly we talked about my work. A little bit about my family. Nothing too exciting. Just small talk," I lie.

I won't tell Selena, but I'd told her father that I'm madly in love with her. She's it for me. I asked for his blessing and told him I planned to spend the rest of my life loving her. He stood there with a serious expression as though he was sizing up not just me as a man, but also my intentions. After a tense moment, he smiled and shook my hand and then welcomed me into the family. Our mid-day fuck was actually a celebratory fuck, she just didn’t know that.

"Let's get some sleep, baby." I tighten my arms around her, hoping to stop any further questions.

Chapter Twelve

Justin

The following Tuesday at work, I get a series of phone calls from Kylie, then Marta and then finally Beth. I let them all go to voicemail and wonder if all of the women in my life have suddenly gone crazy. I'm meeting with my senior staff today, having a strategy session about trying to turn around the third quarter before the earnings report comes out next month.

When my phone flashes again, I glance down at the screen. The text from Kylie causes me to drop the stack of reports I'm reviewing.

Justin, answer your damn phone! Where are you?!

At the office, what's up? I type out, annoyed.

You need to come get Selena. Her sister passed away.

Staring at the words on the screen, I try and fail to comprehend their meaning. We'd just spent the weekend with Selena's family. Becca was fine. She was thin and complained of being tired, but she'd been fine. No. This had to be some type of mistake.

Excusing myself from the boardroom, I tap out a text to Kylie, confirming that I was on my way. I call Marta on my cell while racing down the stairs. There's no time to wait for the elevator, not while my girl needs me.

"Justin, where have you been? I've been trying to…"

"I know. Kylie just told me."

"Oh God, Justin, it's horrible."

***

I drive like a rocket all the way to Kylie's. When I reach her house, I don't bother knocking, I charge my way inside, my eyes seeking Selena.

Instead I find Kylie in the front room, her expression distraught. "Thank God you're here."

"Where is she?" I bark.

Kylie points to the back of the house. I rush down the hall and find Selena sitting at the kitchen table looking down at her hands, a now cold mug of tea sitting beside her along with a half dozen used tissues.

The room is silent and lifeless. I fucking hate it.

"Sweetness…" I murmur against the hum of the refrigerator.

Selena's head lifts and her expression is one I've never seen her wear and one I hope to never see again as long as we live.

Her skin is pale, her mouth is drawn into a tight line, but her eyes are the worst. They are blank and unresponsive – two haunted pools of blue that, despite her silence, scream of pain and trauma so deep my stomach lurches as I fear she'll never be whole again. Becca wasn’t just her sister, wasn’t just her best friend. She was Selena's twin. It's a loss that I can't even begin to understand.

"Come here, baby." I pull her into my arms and she rises easily, letting me pull her to my chest.

She buries her face in my throat and sobs.

I clutch her tighter, hating that she's in pain and I can't do a fucking thing about it. "I'm so sorry." The words feel hollow and so inadequate, I want to swallow them back down the second they leave my mouth. I want to ask what happened, but I know now is not the right time. So instead, I let her cry, holding her tightly against me and muffling the sounds of her crying with my suit jacket.

A few minutes later, her sobs quiet and I smooth her hair back away from her face. "Can I take you home?"

She nods and lets me take her hand and lead her out to the car while Kylie watches from the doorway with a sad, wistful look.

When we arrive home, I dismiss the household staff. Vacuuming and polishing crystal vases suddenly seems far less important. I lay Selena down in my bed, where she curls into a little ball, hugging my pillow against her. I take her cell phone from her purse and call her father.

"Mr. Evans?" My voice breaks and he makes the sound of a muffled sob on the other end.

"Justin, how is she?"

"She's in bed right now. Hasn't spoken a word yet." I wish I had better news to report, but it's the reality of the situation. "I'll take care of her, sir."

"I know you will."

"What happened? Becca seemed fine when she was here…"

I learn that when Becca returned home Sunday, she complained of mild swelling and pain at the site of her port catheter. Within hours, a fever had spiked and they rushed her to the ER. The doctors began antibiotics for an infection that was roaring, unchecked through her system. Within hours of being admitted to the hospital, she'd slipped into a coma as the aggressive infection took full advantage of her weakened immune system.

Her reduced health had contributed to the problem – and the deadly infection had a direct line of access to a vein in her chest, courtesy of the port installed to make her cancer treatments easier.

Her father has to stop twice to compose himself. I tell him it's okay – he doesn't have to continue, but each time, he takes a few minutes to get himself under control and carries on with the story. When he's through, I have no idea what to say. So I tell him we'll be there soon.

After ending the call, I call Marta, instructing her to ready the pilot and my plane and to make arrangements for me to be away from work for a while. It's the worst possible time, but disaster doesn’t plan itself around your calendar, it just sweeps in and punches you in the face, demanding your attention. And right now, this situation has my full and undivided attention – and my first priority is Selena.

***

A few hours later, we're aboard my jet and it's ascending smoothly into the night sky. I had to carry Selena to the car and help her board the plane. She's weak and disoriented and that haunted empty look hasn't left her eyes once. Not while she laid in the bed staring at the ceiling, not when I explained that we were flying home tonight, and not now – while she watches the little lights twinkling ten thousand feet below us.

I've packed our bags, which in addition to toiletries and random articles of clothing, each include formal black attire suited for a funeral.

I lift the bottle of bourbon from its resting place at the center console and pour myself a measure. Glancing over at Selena, I'm reminded of our first evening together –this plane, her somber mood for an entirely different reason. She'd been fighting to save her sister's life. My stomach tightens and I chug down a bitter sip of alcohol, needing its numbing effect now more than ever.

It's only once we're up in the air that Selena speaks her first words to me.

"Can I have some of that?" she asks, nodding to the glass decanter sitting beside me.

"Of course." I'd offered her water, tea and tried to get her to eat, all of which she'd refused earlier. And while I knew the strong liquor wasn't the best thing for her empty stomach, I wouldn’t deny her. Pouring a moderate amount in a glass, I hand it to her.

Her fingers brush mine and Selena's eyes lift to meet my gaze.

"I love you," I tell her.

"I know. I love you too," she says, then she takes a big gulp of her drink and grimaces.

We don't talk about what will happen when we land. I've never seen her childhood home, but now isn't the time for nostalgia. I want to provide her comfort and take away every ounce of her pain. This is the most frustrating, fucked up situation I can imagine. I hate it. I want Becca back. I want my sweet, full of life Selena back. I hate the thought that crosses my mind – without Becca's existence, does Selena's own existence dim?

She drinks two big glasses of bourbon, which I let her have against my better judgment, and then falls asleep against my shoulder.

Tightening my arms around her, I watch her as she sleeps, and vow that whatever comes next, I will be there for her.

Chapter Thirteen

Selena

I never thought I had to fear an infection. Cancer – the big, nasty C-word was my enemy – not some illness that crept in uninvited at the eleventh hour. It isn’t fair. And I don't understand. She'd been doing so well.

I hate how empty and lifeless our shared bedroom feels. Yet I can't help myself from laying on Becca's bed since it's the only place in the house I can still feel her.

I can hear Justin and my dad downstairs somewhere talking quietly. I don’t know what I'd do without him. He is my rock and my love for him has only quadrupled in the past two days.

My mom comes in when the sun begins its descent across the sky.

"Honey?" she taps on the open door and enters.

"Hi, Mom."

She sits down on the bed beside me. "As soon as we got to the emergency room, Becca asked one of the nurses for paper and a pen."

I wonder why she's telling me this, until she pulls a square of paper from her pocket and hands it to me. "Even though we assured her she'd be fine once they got the antibiotics into her system, she seemed to know something we didn’t. She wrote this in a fury while they attached her to an IV drip and removed her port. Then she folded it up and told me to give it to you. I haven’t read it."

I hold the paper in my hands. It's still warm from my mom's hand and I savor the image of a determined Becca in her one last rebellious act against the fucking sickness that took her.

"Can you leave me alone?" I ask my mother.

She nods and rises from the bed, giving me privacy for what is sure to be an emotional moment.

I unfold the paper and laugh at the drawing that jumps out at me from the bottom of the page. It's a poorly drawn penis with large balls and squiggly lines of hair jutting out from them. I smile for the first time in two days. Tears dart to my eyes and my love for her grows, if that’s even possible. I haven’t read a damn word of her letter, and my mood has already lifted. She knew I'd need this. She knows me too well.

Selena,

Thank you for taking me to Rome. Holy shit those Italian guys were hot. Thank you for being my best friend, thank you for every sacrifice you made for me, big and small. Thank you for always giving me your pink Starbursts.

I blink down at the words, recalling the countless packages of Starbursts I bought from hospital vending machines over the years. The pink were Becca's favorite, and even though they were mine too, I always forfeited them to her. Every single time. Without question. Without hesitation.

I love you without end. Don't you dare think for a second that that love is gone. Don't you dare mourn for me. Miss me. Every day, just as I will miss you. Then get on with living. Do it for me. Because I can't. I will be there in every starry night, in ever whisper of breeze against your skin when you jog, I'm in every package of Starbursts, smiling down at you when you eat the pink ones.

A single tear slips from my eye and I brush it away before continuing.

Whatever happens, please know that I am with you. ALWAYS. Go love that hot man of yours, you lucky girl, you. You two are going to make some damn fine babies one day. And that makes me so happy.

At the bottom is the penis drawing and her name along with a heart. That's it. The whole letter. I read it twice more, then fold it neatly along the same creases and carry it across the room, tucking it into my purse for safe keeping.

My mom taps on the door and enters again. Her face is open and expectant. "Well? What did it say?"

I take my time, considering how to answer. "Everything."

She nods. "Good."

Crossing the room to sit beside me again, my mom reaches for my hand. "What are your plans after the funeral tomorrow?"

We're having a luncheon at the house after the funeral, but I know that's not what she means. I think we're all wondering the same thing – how do we go on living in a world where my bright, lovely sister no longer exists?

"I figured I'd stick around here for as long as you needed me. Justin probably has to get back to work, but…"

She shakes her head, stopping me. "Your dad and I will be okay. We've known this is a possibility for a long time."

Was I the only one so blind that I didn’t see what was going on, didn’t understand the risks? Becca continued wasting away while everyone fed me lines that the experimental treatment I'd miraculously funded did nothing. That word resonates far deeper than I'd like. Nothing. It'd all been for nothing. The auction, selling myself, meeting Justin...

No. As soon as I think that last part, I know it's not true. I'd be lost without him right now.

My mom continues, "Dad and I have each other. You don't need to stay here, Selena. You should go home with Justin. Becca was so happy you found him."

I pull in a deep breath and nod.

***

When we leave Northern California it feels so wrong driving away and knowing that my sister is in that cemetery. Part of my heart has been buried in the cold, hard earth. She doesn’t belong there. But then I remember her letter. She isn’t there. She is in every ray of sunshine that shines too bright, in the whisper of the wind against my skin as we board the plane. I know for certain that she is still with me. I see her in my mirrored reflection of the plane's window, in the stray thoughts that are too feisty to be entirely my own. I feel her presence in the squeeze of my heart and I feel whole again. Justin pulls me close and tells me he loves me, and I think maybe, just maybe I will have the strength to do this.

Chapter Fourteen

Justin

Against my better judgment, I returned to work. Selena assured me that it was important that we both resume our normal schedules. But as one week turns into two and Selena continues her descent into a woman I no longer recognize, I know I need to call in reinforcements.

There were a few days there that gave me hope she was getting better. She'd gone for a jog, had stopped by Kylie's to see the baby once, and had actually talked to the grief counselor I sent to the house. But as I arrive home from work tonight, my heart shatters at what I find.

Selena is sitting on the balcony that extends from my office. The wind is whipping her hair wildly around her face and goosebumps cover her flesh. A storm is coming, but she seems oblivious to that fact.

Her skin is pale, and her expression hollow. She's merely a shell of the girl I fell in love with. Giant blue eyes are staring blankly at the ocean and she's taking huge sips of my bourbon straight from the bottle. And the way she no longer grimaces at the taste tells me that this is probably a regular occurrence. Fuck.

"Baby?" I ask, approaching her with caution.

Her head turns in my direction and she blinks several times. "I'm losing it, Justin."

I kneel down on the deck in front of her and cup her face in my hands. "Losing what, sweetness?"

"Everything. The sound of her voice. The way she smelled. How it felt when we were together…"

I sit there, speechless, holding her cheeks and watch her eyes fill with tears. Fuck, Justin, think.

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tomeandflickcorner · 7 years

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Movie Review- RENT

Because I’m starting transfering my RENT fanfics from FF.net to AO3, I thought this would be a good time to post this review to the movie Rent.

My first introduction to RENT happened when I was involved in high school chorus. One of the songs we were made to sing for one of the school’s concerts was RENT’s infamous theme song ‘Seasons of Love,’ possibly more commonly known as ‘Five Hundred Twenty-Five Thousand Six Hundred Minutes.’ At that point in my life, I’d never even heard of RENT, and since it didn’t even occur to me at the time to actually do the necessary research on my own, I had no clue what we were really singing about. After I graduated high school and started taking classes at the local community college, all thoughts of that song were cast off to the very edges of my memory and I gave no thought to it again. That is until 2004 came along, and my mother brought me to see Vanity Fair. (Incidentally, I probably should give that movie another chance sometime. When I first saw it, the movie held my interest for a while. But after the jerk husband of the main character’s best friend dies in the Battle of Waterloo, the film shifted into the movie version of the Energizer Bunny. It just kept on going, and going, and going, and going….. I was sitting there thinking ‘Come ON, movie. End already!” Maybe now that I’m older, I might enjoy it more than I did back then, but that remains to be seen.)

Anyway, getting back on topic, my mother and I were sitting in the dark theater watching the trailers that preceded Vanity Fair, and I started to hear a surprisingly familiar song coming out of the theater’s speakers. Wouldn’t you know it; it was ‘Seasons of Love’, that song they made us sing in high school! As I stared at the screen in amazement, I watched as a trailer for the movie version of RENT began to play. Needless to say, I was quite excited, and immediately made a mental note to go see it, wanting to see the point behind that odd song about midnights and cups of coffee. Unfortunately, after Vanity Fair ended and Mother and I left the theater, I didn’t hear a single word about RENT after that. I saw no other trailers, and absolutely no TV spots. Thanks to what I ascribe to the poor marketing, I completely forgot that the movie RENT existed. That is, until I transferred from the community college to a four-year college roughly two hours away from my home town. At this particular university, there was a special movie night every Friday in the Student Union, where they’d show movies that were no longer in theaters and hadn’t made it to DVD yet. I happened to see that one of the movies they were showing was RENT. Well, obviously, this was a sign from above that I absolutely had to see this movie. Determined not to let this chance pass me by again, I made sure I’d be in the designated auditorium to watch it that Friday. Of course, when the film first began, with eight nameless people standing up on stage singing that infamous ‘Seasons of Love’ song, I was starting to wonder what exactly I got myself into, and began thinking “Okay, I didn’t just set aside two hours of my life to watch these people just singing on a stage. Get on with the story.” However, when the actual story did get underway, I was very quickly hooked, and when it ended, I was so enthralled in what I just saw, I was positively giddy as I rode the shuttle bus back to my campus apartment. Not only that, RENT holds the honor of being the first movie that actually made me cry. That’s not to say that I’m hardhearted when it comes to movies. I’ll admit that I did feel myself get choked up a bit at the endings for Dragonheart, E.T. and The Fox and the Hound. But RENT was the very first movie I ever saw that made actual tears fall from my eyes.

So anyway, the review. The film opens on, as I mentioned above, that scene with the eight principal characters standing up on stage, singing ‘Seasons of Love’. As you might have gathered, I am not particularly thrilled with this scene. I suppose it was put in the movie for the sake of the people who had already seen the stage musical or something. But I’ve seen the stage musical when the touring cast came to my area, and while the actors do sing this song while just standing on stage on one point, it’s at the start of Act 2 when everyone’s coming back from intermission and need to get back into the show. But this isn’t the stage musical, it’s a movie. Seeing those people on stage does not get you into the movie, it’ll just take you out of it. At least, that’s the effect it had on me. For that reason, I personally think that this wasn’t a wise move on the part of the directors and script writers. This opening scene just doesn’t work in the movie, and to this day, it’s always the part I skip over completely.

Once the stage recital thing is finished, the actual story begins. The very first image we see is one of those film countdown leader things, followed by various images from NYC. Although, the only recognizable landmark that’s shown to us is the Radio City Music Hall. Most of the footage features shots of homeless people. A disembodied voice informs us that it’s December 24th, 1989, 9:00 PM EST, and that from this point on, he’s shooting without a script in order to see if he can come up with something good. This voice belongs to Mark Cohen; an aspiring young filmmaker who we soon learn will film almost everything he sees with a 16mm Bolex. It’s clear to me that we’re supposed to conclude that the opening images we saw were from Mark’s camera, which I have to say I find a rather artistic opening for a movie. I tend to place this opening right up there with the openings of the Indiana Jones films, when that Paramount Mountain logo seamlessly becomes an actual mountain in the movie. The only thing that would make one scratch their heads is the fact that Mark will sometimes narrate while he films with his Bolex camera. From the quick research I’ve done on these cameras, they don’t actually record sound, so they won’t pick up Mark’s narration. But that’s probably just a nitpick, and I imagine Mark only really narrates to let people know he’s filming them as some sort of courtesy to them.

As the (real) opening song, ‘Rent’, is sung, Mark rides his bike back to his place, which is known as the loft within the fan base, pedaling past a pole covered with eviction notices. It is though this song that we get our first look at some of the other main characters in this movie. Back in the loft, we immediately meet Roger, Mark’s best friend and roommate, who is busy with an acoustic guitar. When the lights go out in the loft, Roger immediately tries to fix the problem with the fuse box, but soon learns that won’t do much, as Mark arrives home and shows him one of the eviction notices. I’m guessing that means that their power was actually shut off on them, but that’s not really relevant right now. Roger and Mark then immediately get a phone call from a payphone across the street. The caller is a man called Collins, Roger and Mark’s other roommate, who is returning home after some time away. Mark tosses Collins down the key to get back in the loft, but the second Mark ducks back inside, Collins is immediately attacked and mugged by some street gang.

The song continues as Roger and Mark try to keep warm by lighting a fire in an old garbage can, using various posters and some of Mark’s discarded scripts to fuel the fire. For some reason that I can’t really understand, they then take the garbage can and dump the burning papers over the side of the fire escape. I’ll admit I really don’t understand their motivation for doing so. I mean, as Mark informed us right before this song began, it’s late December in New York City, so it’s bound to be cold. And with their power off, they’d probably need that fire to keep from freezing to death and all. But I suppose they might have gotten caught up in the moment or something, as we see other people who live on this street are out on their fire escapes, too, and making a show of burning their own eviction notices. So, maybe Mark and Roger wanted to outdo their neighbors? I don’t know. Anyway, we then meet Benny, who has just driven up in his Range Rover. He calls up to Mark and Roger, instructing them to come down so he can talk to them. They wordlessly agree, but before Roger can follow Mark off the fire escape, he happens to meet the eyes of a young girl living on the floor below them.

With the help of Mark’s trademark narration as he films Benny, we learn that Benny married a woman named Allison Grey, whose rich father owns many buildings on the block. In addition, Benny apparently is planning to evict many of the homeless from this neighborhood known as Alphabet City so he can build a Cyber Studio. It’s here that we also learn, though a comment Benny makes, that Roger is a recovering drug addict. Roger, obviously not wanting to beat around the bush, asks Benny straight out why he’s there. Benny explains that his father-in-law heard about a protest against the Cyber Studio, which is being held by a woman named Maureen. Here, it’s also revealed that Mark once dated Maureen, but she recently dumped him for a lawyer named Joanne.

In retaliation of Maureen’s protest, Mr. Grey sent Benny out to Alphabet City to collect the rent money. Mark and Roger immediacy react with annoyance. Now, I’ve seen some people criticizing Mark and Roger here, saying that they’re essentially lazy bums because they’re mad at Benny for asking for the rent money. That’s not why they’re angry, people. They’re angry because when Benny bought the building Mark and Roger live in after marrying Allison, he had promised them that they could stay there rent free. Now, he’s showing up on Christmas Eve asking for an entire year’s worth of rent money. Who wouldn’t be angry?

Anyway, Benny presents Mark and Roger with a deal. He will keep his promise to allow them to stay there rent free if, and only if, they manage to stop Maureen’s protest. Actually, now that I think about it, I am a bit confused about the motivation of Benny and the Greys. I mean, I do sort of understand their reasons for wanting to build a Cyber Studio. As Benny explains with his signature musical number, ‘You’ll See’, this Cyber Studio would enable people like Mark and Roger to continue their passions (filmmaking and songwriting respectfully) and actually get paid for it. In other words, he’s creating new job opportunities for people. However, when the people who live on the site of the proposed Cyber Studio react negatively to getting evicted, with a full-blown protest being held, Benny and the Greys get all huffy. I mean, you’re essentially kicking a bunch of people out of their homes so you could build your precious Cyber studio. Of course they’re going to protest.

The movie now introduces us to our next protagonist, Angel. While sharp eyes will catch a quick glimpse of this character at the conclusion of the musical number ‘Rent,’ the real introduction to this character has him/her (this label will make sense later) sitting on a street corner drumming away on an empty pickle tub for money. When Angel hears someone coughing in a nearby alleyway, he/she goes to investigate and finds an injured Collins, who as I’ve mentioned had just been mugged. After Angel and Collins introduce themselves, Angel helps Collins to his feet and helps him walk out of the alleyway, offering to help clean him up a bit. He/she tells Collins that he/she does sort have to hurry, as he/she has a life support meeting to go to. This life support meeting is for people infected with HIV, something Angel and Collins both admit to having.

Here, we cut back to Mark and Roger, who are back in the loft. Roger is back to fiddling around with his guitar when Mark announces that he’s stepping out to see if he can find out what happened to Collins. (Remember that Mark last saw Collins when he threw the key to the loft down to him, and isn’t even aware that his friend was mugged immediately afterward.) Mark asks Roger if he wants to come along to help him look, but Roger refuses. Mark doesn’t push Roger to change his mind, but simply reminds Roger to take his AZT, revealing that Roger also has HIV. After Mark leaves, we get our next musical number, ‘One Song Glory’, in which Roger expresses his desire to write one phenomenal song in order to leave behind some kind of legacy before his inevitable death. As this song is sung, we get a series of flashbacks that show that Roger was once a singer in a band. At one of his gigs, his eyes meet those of a red-headed girl named April, and the two quickly become romantically involved. However, April either was already involved in or started taking heroin, and it’s implied that she got Roger to start taking it as well. Because April apparently shot up with a contaminated needle, she became infected with HIV. This also explains how Roger must have gotten the virus, too, as he probably either shared needles with April or caught it through sexual contact with her. As for April, Roger admits that she died a little later on. While it’s never stated how she died in the movie, the stage musical explains that she committed suicide by cutting her wrists in the bathtub after learning of her diagnosis. And again, while it’s never actually stated, it’s heavy implied that Roger not only quit heroin after April’s death, he hasn’t left the loft since then, because all he can see is the fact that he’s going to die before his time and therefore doesn’t see the point of actually living. Wait! I just caught something! Earlier, Benny commented how Roger was looking good after coming off a year of withdrawal. Maybe he wasn’t just referring to the heroin withdrawal. Maybe he also meant a withdrawal from life! Poignancy for the win!

After Roger’s soliloquy ends, he gets a surprise visit from that girl who he noticed earlier, the one who lives on the floor below. Though another musical number, ‘Light My Candle’, this girl explains that the power in her place downstairs was also turned off, and requests Roger’s help in lighting the candle she brought up. Although, we saw right before she knocked on Roger’s door that the candle had already been lit until she purposely blew it out, so we know that this girl is simply using that candle as an excuse to come up and talk to Roger. Throughout this song, there are a number of nuances that show that there’s an instant connection between Roger and this girl. For example, when Roger notices that this girl is shivering, he immediately whips off his leather jacket and puts it around her shoulders, trying to provide her with an improvised blanket. Roger insists he’s seen this girl somewhere before, but he just can’t place where until she states that she dances at an S&M club known as the Cat Scratch club. Obviously, this girl must have made quite an impression on Roger when he saw her at this club, as he remembers her after being shut away for a year. Anyway, as this musical number continues, we see this girl playfully flirt with Roger, with Roger acting completely flustered about the whole thing, which of course further shows that he’s completely blown away by her. This song number also reveals the girl is an active heroin addict when she realizes she dropped her stash of drugs while she was talking to Roger and proceeds to search the room for it, all while Roger tells her that she should really quit taking heroin. (This will be a pretty big plot point later on.) As this song number ends, the girl introduces herself to Roger, stating that people call her Mimi.

We then cut to morning, Christmas Day. The power is back on in the loft, and as Roger pours himself some coffee while reading a newspaper called The Village Voice, Mark is screening a phone call from his mother. And on a personal note, there are not enough words to describe how much I dig Mark and Roger’s answering machine message. You know how most people have their messages say stuff like ‘we can’t come to the phone right now, so wait for the beep, you know the drill.’ Well, Mark and Roger, like a regular pair of smart alecs, have recorded their message as a monotone command of ‘Speak!’ in the same manner as the characteristic answering machine beep. Even to this day, hearing that answering machine message gets a chuckle out of me.

Anyway, while Mark’s mother doesn’t say anything really awful in her phone call, and it’s clear that she loves her son, there is that certain undertone in her phone call that paints Mama Cohen as one of those overly-doting mothers. You know, the type that calls up their adult children every week to check if they still have clean underwear? After the phone call ends, Roger happens to glance over at the window and sees that Mimi has written him a message in the frost covering the glass, inviting him to a Christmas brunch in her pad downstairs. While his facial expression betrays the fact that he’s tempted, when Mark asks him if he’s going to accept the invite, Roger immediately says he’s not. Now, before people start trying to judge Roger too harshly because of this, please keep in mind that he’s essentially refused to leave the loft in over a year, and that he can’t bring himself to live his life because of the knowledge that he carries a rather serious illness that may very well kill him. In addition, he’s probably afraid that if he lets himself get close to Mimi, he might end up infecting her with the virus. That or he’s cautious about Mimi being a heroin addict and is worried that he might fall off the wagon if he spends time with her. Personally, I think it’s more of the former than the latter. But I digress.

At that moment, Collins enters the loft and is promptly welcomed back by Mark and Roger. Collins presents them both with Stoli in disposable paper cups and some food (not exactly what sort of food he brings over, but it almost looks like cheese and such) before informing his roommates that he has returned home from his teaching job at MIT after being fired for some reason. (The reason will briefly be mentioned in another musical number later on, but I’ll get to that later.) However, he has a new teaching job at NYU. When Mark asks if that’s how he was able to afford the alcohol and food he brought home with him, Collins states that it wasn’t him who brought that stuff, but it was in fact Angel, the person who had helped him after being mugged. He then opens up the loft door to reveal Angel standing outside. (So, was Angel just standing outside this whole time, waiting for Collins to introduce him/her with as much fanfare as possible? Guys, I’m starting to think this movie might be a bit weird.)

Anyway, Angel is now dressed as a woman, with a Santa Claus-esque dress and a black wig. This is the reason for me giving this character the he/she label. Angel, it turns out, is a drag queen. With the use of the musical number ‘Today 4 U, Tomorrow 4 Me’, Angel informs Mark and Roger that some rich lady paid Angel $1,000 to play his/her drums in front of a Gracie Mews apartment building, where the rich lady’s neighbors live with an akita called Evita. This particular dog’s incessant barking is keeping the rich lady up at night, so the rich lady is hoping that if Angel plays his/her drums outside, the dog will bark herself to death. Apparently, the plan worked better than expected, as Angel’s drumming got Evita so wiled up, she actually fell from the window of the 23 story apartment and plummeted to her death.

After the song ends, someone else calls the loft. This time, it’s Maureen, that woman who’s holding the protest against Benny’s Cyber Studio, and who dumped Mark for Joanne the lawyer. The reason for Maureen’s phone call is because she wants Mark’s help in setting up her protest. Mark is not happy that Maureen is asking for his help in fixing her sound equipment after dumping him for a woman, but he decides to go over to do what he can. Collins and Angel also make their exit so they can go to that life support meeting, the one that had been formed for people with HIV. They invite Roger to go, but like before, he turns down the invite, still refusing to leave the loft.

Down at the performance space, Mark arrives to help fix Maureen’s sound equipment, but finds that Maureen isn’t even there. Instead, he has his very first encounter with the infamous Joanne. The pair immediately have a whole awkward Mrs.-and-the-Ex moment before launching into another musical number, ‘The Tango Maureen’. Through this musical number, which includes a whole dream sequence with a good number of random couples performing the tango all over the room, Mark and Joanne form a bond-of-sorts over their mutual knowledge of Maureen’s flighty, flirtatious nature. After fixing Maureen’s sound equipment, Mark heads across town to a community center. This is the meeting place for the life support meeting Collins and Angel are attending, which Angel had told him he was welcome to come to as it wasn’t just for people with HIV/AIDS. This scene is rather short, but it does introduce us to one of the movie’s recurring themes, about not letting past regrets stop you from living your life by using the movie’s catchphrase: No Day But Today.

Immediately, we shift focus to the Cat Scratch Club, where Mimi is currently putting on a show for the club’s patrons. Throughout this scene, Mimi sings the next musical number, ‘Out Tonight’. There’s not much that really happens during this song. It’s essentially just Mimi moving about on stage, taking money from the club’s patrons and getting into various provocative positions before walking home from the club. (But if you look carefully, I swear you can see Albert Einstein’s long-lost twin brother in the crowd.) Basically, this is the movie’s party song. The song that doesn’t have any real message, but talks about having a fun night out on the town. Anyway, as ‘Out Tonight’ comes to an end, Mimi arrives at her apartment but then immediately makes her way up to the loft to see Roger, who is still messing around with his guitar. Roger, while he is clearly stunned to see her climbing in through his window like she owns the place, a brief smile does flash across his face, and when Mimi moves in to kiss him, you do see him give in for a few moments. However, Roger quickly pulls away and we immediately shift into the next song, ‘Another Day’. In this song, Roger berates Mimi for barging in and tells her to leave. While he teeters on the edge of explaining his reasons for pushing her away, he quickly decides against it. Mimi tries to convince Roger to take a chance, repeating the message we just heard at the life support meeting: life is short, so don’t let regret stop you from living. Roger, however, refuses to listen to Mimi and pretty much throws her out of the loft, telling her to leave him alone. This leads to what is essentially a shouting match between Roger and Mimi, which Mark, Angel and Collins end up witnessing as they return from the life support meeting.

The next morning, Mark tries to bring up the fight Roger had with Mimi, but Roger states he doesn’t want to talk about it. Trying another tactic, Mark announces that Mimi will be at Maureen’s protest, which is being held that night. He proceeds to try and convince Roger that being with Mimi might be good for him, as she might help him learn to live again. However, Roger once again brushes Mark’s advice off. Realizing he’s probably not going to win this one, Mark leaves the loft, leaving Roger alone with his thoughts. Across town, Mark is once again at the life support meeting with Collins and Angel. You know, I can’t help wondering how many times they hold these life support meetings. In the movie’s timeline, this is the third consecutive day. I mean, with Alcoholics Anonymous, the meetings are typically once a week, aren’t they? So why is this HIV/AIDS group meeting three days in a row? Is this life support group regularly a daily thing, or did they just temporarily schedule it like this because it’s Christmas, a time when people usually need to feel connected to one another all the more? But I guess I’m getting off the track again.

As Mark films the meeting for the documentary he’s working on, he is stunned to see someone else walking into the room. It’s Roger, who apparently has finally been convinced to step outside the loft for the first time since April’s death a year ago. Mark, Collins and Angel are all pleased and proud to see Roger there. When the four friends leave the meeting, Mark stops a couple of cops from harassing a homeless woman, but the woman thanks Mark for his help by practically biting Mark’s head off. After this confrontation, they get on a subway train where Collins and Angel sing the next song in this musical film, ‘Santa Fe,’ a song about their dreams to leave New York and move to Santa Fe in order to open up a restaurant. Again, I might be reading something into nothing, but what is it about Santa Fe that’s so attractive? This isn’t the first time I’ve seen a movie with people living in New York wanting to leave for Santa Fe. In the Disney musical Newsies, the main character, Jack Kelly, spends the whole movie with an aspiration to leave New York and starting again in Santa Fe. He even has a whole song-and-dance number about it. Seriously, why is Santa Fe so attractive to New Yorkers? Mind you, I’m sure New York is a rough place to live. I’ve heard all the stories about the mugging and the homeless community and all the other negative aspects about the Big Apple But even so, why Santa Fe? Why not Florida or some other warm place? I just don’t get it.

When their subway train ride comes to an end, Mark steps away to continue helping set up Maureen’s protest, dragging Roger with him. Once Collins and Angel are alone, they launch into another song, this one entitled ‘I’ll Cover You’. Like ‘Out Tonight’, this song doesn’t really serve much purpose in the overall movie, but it does reveal that Collins and Angel have both fallen for each other. Now, when I saw this movie for the first time, my reaction was essentially ‘Wha?! They’re gay?’ Now, I’ll admit that it’s nice they didn’t make the sexual orientation of these two characters all in-your-face and brutally obvious by utilizing any of those stereotypical behaviors by making them both all effeminate and obsessed with curtains and whatnot. Nevertheless, this plot point just seemed to come completely out of nowhere. When I first watched this movie back at that four-year college, I had absolutely no clue that Collins and Angel were gay/homosexual/whatever the current PC term is before this song popped up, so their mutual decision to become lovers caught me completely off guard. Sure, Collins did cast a few glances at Angel a few times earlier on in the movie, but if you didn’t already know that they’d enter into a romantic relationship with each other, those glances would have been very easy to overlook. Granted there’s a little more build up to this in the stage musical, but not much.

So, yeah, Collins and Angel are in love now, and even engage in a full-on lip-lock. Okay, I guess I can accept that, even though I still think it came completely out of left field. After that point has been made, we fast forward to nighttime, where we see a brief shot of the New York skyline, with our eyes instinctively being drawn to the iconic Twin Towers. (Remember this movie is set in 1989, over a decade before the famous tragedy.) Once we’ve all been given the chance to stand and salute those towers and everything they stand for, the movie returns our focus to the protagonists, just in time for Maureen’s protest to start. Roger is standing outside the performance space, searching, as it’s quickly established, for Mimi. He soon spots her, but he sees her standing with someone he recognizes: the same drug dealer who April used to buy her heroin from. However, Roger manages to shrug off this coincidence and approaches Mimi. When he tries to ask her if they can talk, the drug dealer, known to the fans simply as The Man, steps in and threatens Roger, warning him not to steal his client. Roger retaliates by shoving The Man, angrily stating that The Man didn’t miss him, so he most likely won’t miss Mimi, also pointing out that he’s got plenty of customers. Not wanting the confrontation to escalate, Mimi pulls Roger aside, allowing Roger to apologize to her for the other night. He offers to try and make it up to her by telling her that he and his friends are going to the Life Café after Maureen’s show, and inviting her to come along as his date. With a smile, Mimi accepts the invite and then accompanies Roger into the performance space, where they meet up with Collins and Angel. At that moment, Maureen arrives, riding in on a motorcycle to begin her protest, with the next song, ‘Over the Moon’. This ‘song’ is… just weird. While the ‘Seasons of Love’ scene is the one I tend to skip over, this is the one when my brain zones out. ‘Over the Moon’ is like an interpretive art exhibit combined with a student film. I can sort of tell that Maureen is trying to discuss what’s happening with Benny and his Cyber Studio, and the threat of everyone being evicted, but her methods of doing so are just bizarre with her constant references to that old nursery rhyme, Hey Diddle Diddle, with heavy emphasis on the cow. The only thing that really stands out to me during this scene is when Maureen brings everyone’s attention to the fact that Benny is standing among the crowd, and there’s a brief camera shot of Mimi looking slightly uncomfortable. But we won’t learn what that’s about until later on.

At one point during Maureen’s protest, everyone suddenly starts mooing, which makes this whole sequence even weirder. But that’s when the police, who had been called in by Benny to be on stand-by, step in and try to force some of the protesters to back away from the stage. Despite Maureen’s efforts to break things up, her attempts ultimately fail as a full-on riot erupts. In an attempt to avoid trouble, Roger, Mimi, Collins and Angel all hightail it out of there.

Sometime later, Maureen and Joanne are seen walking up to the Life Café, with Maureen venting her annoyance with Benny for placing the cops at her protest to begin with, particularly because a good number of the protesters got arrested. Joanne reassures Maureen that the cops will most likely let everyone go in a couple of hours. Once they reach the Life Café, they are immediately met with Collins, Angel, Mimi and Roger. It’s only then that they realize that Mark’s not there. They decide to wait for him inside, which is kind of odd if you ask me, particularly because everyone knew Mark had been at the protest, too. For all they knew, Mark might have been among the people who got arrested, or he could have gotten hurt in the riot. But maybe they were trying to be hopefully optimistic that he just got hung up somewhere and are giving him a few more minutes to get there before breaking up into search parties. Thankfully, Mark wasn’t in trouble after all, as he enters the Life Café a short time later. He announces that some news station had bought his footage of the riot that had erupted at Maureen’s protest, and that they’ll be showing it that night at 11:00. As the seven friends join up with some other nameless people, who they all clearly know somehow, Maureen notices that Benny is also there at the Life Café, having a meeting with Mr. Grey and some other nameless business associate. The main group starts to tell Benny off for showing his face there after what just happened, but Benny tries to explain that he never wanted things to get out of hand. Everyone ignores Benny’s attempts, and Roger asks Benny why his wife, Allison, missed the protest, snidely referring to her as Muffy. Benny replies that there was a death in the family: their pet akita. Instantly, Roger, Mark and the others realize that Benny is referring to Evita, the same dog that Angel admitted to essentially killing earlier in the film.

Once again, Benny tries to get everyone, here on in referred to as the Bohemians, to see things from his point of view, stating that he’s trying to do some good He finishes off by informing them they’ll end up getting nowhere by clinging to their ideals so strongly. In response, Mark leads the others into the song ‘La Vie Boheme’, which is essentially the Bohemians pledging to continue living as nonconformists, making as many references as possible to various artists, poets and subjects that are essentially taboo in polite society. Their display alienates Mr. Grey and the nameless businessman so much they leave without a word, with Benny tailing after them. As the Bohemians continue to celebrate, with Angel finally stating why Collins was fired from MIT (he somehow wired some of the school’s electrical equipment to self-destruct as some sort of anarchist statement about fighting AIDS), Mimi approaches Roger, informing him that she’s annoyed that, even though he invited her to come to the Life Café with him, he’s been ignoring her all night. Again, Roger tries to apologize, stating that he has been trying, and that he’s got baggage. As Mimi tries to tell him that she’s okay with baggage, as she has some of her own, Roger is momentarily distracted when his beeper goes off. This beeper, from what I gather, is issued to people with HIV to remind them to take their AZT. Suddenly, to Roger’s amazement, he sees Mimi also pulling out some AZT of her own, revealing that she also has HIV. As was stated earlier in this review, Roger was pushing Mimi away mainly out of fear that he could infect her with the virus. But now that he knows that she’d already had it, he doesn’t have to worry about that anymore, and is perfectly free to let himself be with her.

And it’s here that we get Roger and Mimi’s signature love song, which begins after Roger leads Mimi outside into a snowy back alley. (Interesting choice of location, considering he just found out that she has a disease that essentially attacks her immune system, and that cold weather tends to further hinder a person’s immunity against illness. But that small nitpick aside, this remains one of my favorite scenes in the movie.) Within this song, ‘I Should Tell You’, Roger and Mimi basically try to express their growing attraction for each other. In general, the lyrics to this song are a bit intelligible and don’t make a lot of sense when you really take the time to listen to them, but I think that’s the point. When has love ever really made sense? You just agree to throw caution to the winds and take a chance, and that’s exactly what Roger and Mimi are doing here. Neither of them really have any idea where their relationship will go, but they’re both deciding to give it a chance. After Roger cements things by kissing Mimi, they go back inside the Life Café where the Bohemians are continuing their celebration.

We now get to watch a montage of Mark’s random footage, over a short segment of ‘Seasons of Love’. Again, this is why I think that opening sequence doesn’t really work within the movie. In the stage musical, this is where ‘Seasons of Love’ is performed, and since it’s still appearing here in the exact same spot, putting it at the beginning as well seems to be a bit of an odd decision. (I’m sorry, but I can’t get past the stage thing. What was up with that?)

When the montage ends, the Bohemians are celebrating New Years. After Mark asks Roger and Mimi what their New Year’s Resolutions are, he then gets into a conversation with Maureen. Through this conversation, we learn that Mark was offered a job with a news show called Buzzline, but Mark is completely uninterested in the offer, stating that he’d be selling out if he goes to work for Buzzline.

When the Bohemians return to the loft, they discover that Benny has had the building’s doors padlocked shut. With Angel’s help, they manage to break the padlock and walk in. But upon reaching the loft, they discover that Benny didn’t just stop with the padlocked door, he also completely cleaned out their place, removing all of their belongings. Mimi enters the loft, stating that Benny also completely cleaned out her pad. Joanne, utilizing her lawyer knowledge, informs everyone that now that they’re inside the building, they’re all technically squatters. Therefore, they can’t be arrested or thrown out onto the street. This, according to Joanne, should enable them time to get some money together. The problem is, how are they going to get money when Mark and Roger don’t have any income to speak of? With a casual shrug, Maureen reminds Mark that he could always go work for Buzzline. Realizing that he no longer has much of a choice, Mark reluctantly agrees and arranges a meeting with Alexi Darling, the head of Buzzline. Joanne, who obviously is friends with Mark now, accompanies him to the meeting as an agent-of-sorts. In the end, it is agreed that Mark will come work for Buzzline, who will pay him $3,000 per segment, but during the meeting, Joanne witnesses Maureen, who had tagged along, essentially flirting with a secretary. This does not make Joanne happy at all, and as they leave the office building, Joanne tells Maureen off for flirting with some other woman. Maureen insists that she was just being friendly. As the pair continues to argue, Joanne informs Maureen that what she wants the most from her is commitment. Maureen shows no sign of being phased by this, and they instantly decide to get engaged on the spot, paying no attention to poor Mark, who is simply watching everything transpiring like a stunned beast.

The action shifts to some hoity-toity country club, where Maureen and Joanne’s families have come together to celebrate the engagement. However, a leopard, as they say, cannot change their spots. At least not overnight. As Joanne is hugged and congratulated by the Bohemians, she once again notices that Maureen is across the room, acting rather flirtatious with a woman working at the country club’s bar. Joanne promptly pulls Maureen aside, begging her not to act like that, especially not today. Faster than you can blink, an argument is triggered between Maureen and Joanne, which quickly escalates into a fight that draws everyone’s attention. Throughout this fight, which occurs through the song ‘Take Me As I Am’, both Maureen and Joanne inform the other that neither of them can change who they are and, if they can’t live with each other’s faults, namely Maureen’s constant need to be the center of attention and Joanne’s rigid, unyielding nature, then maybe they shouldn’t be together after all. The fight ends with Maureen and Joanne deciding to break up, and both women storm out of the room, prompting Maureen’s mother, in a moment of comic relief, to hopefully suggest that maybe her daughter can get back together with Mark now.

After Maureen and Joanne’s public break-up, Mark, Roger, Mimi, Collins and Angel return home to the loft. Upon entering, they find that not only has all their stuff been brought back, Benny is also waiting there for them. He informs them that Mimi, whom he hasn’t seen in a while, had met him for dinner and that she convinced him to rethink the situation. Upon hearing this news, Roger is immediately on guard, which indicates that Mimi failed to inform him about this meeting. With no indication that he notices the sudden tension between Roger and Mimi, Benny proceeds to announce that he’s willing to make a new deal with his former friends, and presents them with a brand new lease, courtesy of Cyber Arts. Mark informs Benny that they don’t need his charity, and hands over his first advance from Buzzline. Benny, undoubtedly realizing that he’s overstayed his welcome, promptly exits the loft. After Benny leaves, Mimi cautiously walks up to Roger, informing him that while nothing happened during her recent meeting with Benny, they did indeed date at one point (which explains that awkward expression that appeared on her face during the ‘Over the Moon’ segment), but it was over two years ago, long before she’d even met Roger. Roger insists that he doesn’t care and gives her the cold shoulder. Thus, we’ve now got two of the movie’s couples going through a rough patch.

Now, I’ve put a lot of thought into trying to understand the reasons for Roger distancing himself from Mimi at this point, and I think I’ve got it figured out. It’s already been established that Roger clearly had no idea Mimi had met with Benny, so she obviously arranged the meeting behind Roger’s back. So, right there, we have a breach of trust. In addition, Benny said that he met Mimi for dinner and she “convinced [him] to rethink the situation.” While this does seem like a rather innocent statement, the fact remains that there are some people in this world who will say “why don’t we have dinner together” when what they really mean is “come and sleep with me” (e.g. that Charles Caiman bloke from Godzilla ’98.) So, is that what we’re supposed to assume Benny’s implying in this movie? Well, in the movie’s current format, I suppose that’s pretty much open to debate, but in the stage musical version, Benny does make a pronounced effort to make it sound like Mimi willingly seduced him. And, in one of the movie’s deleted scenes, Benny does make a snide comment to Roger about how Mimi can be very persuasive, which can easily be interpreted the wrong way. So, if we accept that this deleted scene actually happened within the movie’s reality, we can conclude that Benny has intentionally placed a seed of doubt in Roger’s head, forcing him to question Mimi’s fidelity.

Time once again passes through a rather packed montage, accompanied by the song ‘Without You’. This montage covers a lot of events that occur within the lives of the Bohemians, so I’ll try to sum it up as best as I can. Roger, possibly having calmed down enough to try and talk out their issues with Mimi, enters her apartment only to find her seconds away from shooting up. In disgust, he walks out without a word. Realizing that she has to make a choice between Roger or the heroin, Mimi decides to try and quit. Roger later finds Mimi going through what looks like a rather painful withdrawal and promptly carries her up to the loft, showering with encouragement and holding her as tight as he can. However, Mimi eventually falls off the bandwagon and is then shown outside the Cat Scratch Club, buying more heroin from The Man. As Mimi turns around after completing her transaction, she is horrified to find that Roger had seen the whole thing. Even though we can’t really hear what Roger and Mimi are saying to each other after Roger catches Mimi buying more drugs, as the song playing during the montage drowns them out, it’s pretty clear that Roger officially ends things with Mimi, as he throws the heroin back at her and walks off without looking back.

Meanwhile, we see various shots of the life support meetings, which Roger and Mimi both attend now. One-by-one, we see some of the life support members fading out of the picture, which I guess is meant to symbolize that the members in question have passed away due to an AIDS related illness. As the camera finally comes to focus on Collins and Angel during their life support meeting, the scene immediately shifts to a subway train, where Collins is holding a clearly-ill Angel. The montage continues to show Angel is now confined to a hospital bed as his/her condition grows worse and worse. (Maureen and Joanne also appear in this montage, in the scene when the Bohemians are all visiting Angel at the hospital. As their facial expressions and body language indicate, these two aren’t even speaking to each other anymore.) As the montage ends, we are left with the image of Collins crying over Angel’s still body, letting us know that he/she has passed away, a fact that is further driven home when the next scene shows everyone attending Angel’s funeral service on Halloween, complete with a reprise of ‘I’ll Cover You’, the song Angel and Collins had previously used to announce their undying love for each other.

As Angel’s funeral ends, with the Bohemians starting to leave the cemetery, Mimi hesitantly tries to talk to Roger, asking him if it’s true that he sold his guitar and used the money to buy a car in order to leave New York. Roger confirms this, stating that he’s leaving that very day for Santa Fe. He then tells Mimi off for having Benny accompany her to Angel’s funeral. For reasons that I can’t even begin to comprehend, Benny decides that now’s a good time to remind Mimi that she said that she wasn’t going to speak to Roger again. When Maureen berates Benny for acting like he has any say in who Mimi talks to, Joanne interrupts by telling Maureen to mind her own business. With that, a huge fight erupts between Maureen and Joanne & Mimi and Roger, with neither pair paying any attention to Mark and Benny as they try to break up the fights. Although, to be fair, it’s not really much of a fight in terms of Maureen and Joanne. With them, Maureen is just standing there without saying a word while Joanne shouts about how Maureen never put any real effort into their relationship. Mimi and Roger, on the other hand, both have things to say to each other. Mimi calls Roger out on how he was never really committed to their relationship while Roger yells at Mimi about her ongoing heroin addiction. Plus, he still isn’t completely convinced that Mimi didn’t cheat on him with Benny. It’s only when Collins steps in that the fights end abruptly, with Collins reminding them all that they’d promised they wouldn’t bring up any of their personal grievances up today, out of respect for Angel. He then states that he can barely believe that their family is now breaking apart, particularly after Angel worked so hard to help them all believe in love. While Collins’ words seem to reach Maureen and Joanne, as Maureen moves in to comfort a crying Joanne, Roger proceeds to leave the cemetery without sparing a glance at Mimi.

After Roger leaves, we get our next montage song, ‘What You Own,’ which focuses on Mark and Roger. Mark continues to work at Buzzline, but is finding that he’s not getting any inspiration for the documentary he’s been working throughout the course of the movie. It’s not from lack of trying, as he spends nearly every moment reviewing the various footage he’s collected, with the voice of Angel, who is apparently his muse now, ringing in his ears. As for Roger, he makes it to Santa Fe, where he sells the car that brought him there to buy a brand new guitar. (So, why not just buy a bus ticket if you were going to resell the car and buy another guitar? Are you telling me that buying a car and spending money at the various gas stations along the way is cheaper than a bus ticket?) Confusing monetary decisions aside, Roger starts working to earn money by being one of those street performers. However, he quickly finds that he’s being haunted by Mimi, with him constantly seeing her face everywhere. As time goes by, both boys come to realize that they can no longer continue on faking happiness. Mark, being struck by inspiration at last, decides that he needs to focus on his own film and quits Buzzline while Roger hops onto a bus to return to New York. (See Roger? You can afford a bus ticket without selling your guitar! There was no reason for you to buy a car!) During Roger’s return trip, he starts pouring over his notebook, also finding the inspiration to write his long-sought-for song.

So Roger is now back in New York. However, it might be too late. After Roger gets a message from Benny, informing him that Mimi had dropped out of rehab and might be using again, he proceeds down to her pad, only to find the place completely empty. We then hear through a collection of phone messages that Mimi hasn’t shown up to work in quite a while, and is now possibly living on the street. Through a brief montage, we see Roger, Mark, Maureen and Joanne searching the city for her. Maureen and Joanne start asking around in case someone had seen her, and Mark files a missing persons report before putting up missing posters all over the city. Roger even approaches The Man to ask him if Mimi’s been to see him, but to no avail. While Collins is apparently out of town again and can’t personally help with the search, he does call regularly asking for updates. As winter approaches and the weather gets colder, everyone starts worrying about Mimi all the more.

On that note, Mark’s narration informs us that it is once again December 24th, 10:00PM EST. We’ve now come full circle. Like before, Collins returns home and calls up to the loft for the key, which Mark drops down to him, this time instructing him not to get beat up. Upon entering the loft, Collins’s first thought is to ask if they’ve heard from Mimi, which Roger sadly admits they haven’t. Collins then notices that Mark has set up his projector and realizes that he’s finished his movie and asks to see it, but first, he pulls out a stack of cash and gives it to Mark and Roger, telling them to use it to get some heat up in the loft. When they ask Collins how he got the money, he informs them that he rewired the ATM at the Food Emporium, and that from now on, they’ll get as much money as they want if they type in the code A-N-G-E-L.

Right when the three friends are starting on their Christmas Stoli, which Collins has once again brought over, they hear Maureen’s frantic voice shouting up at them from the street. When they all step out on the fire escape to see what’s up, they are all shocked to see Maureen and Joanne standing there, holding an extremely ill and barely-conscious Mimi. Without hesitation, the guys immediately run outside and help Maureen and Joanne carry Mimi up to the loft, where they quickly put together an improvised bed using an old blanket and the metal table. (There was no room for her on the couch.) Mimi regains enough consciousness to realize that Roger is right at her side. After Collins hands over his coat (which, in a bit of movie trivia, is actually the same coat that Angel bought for him from a street vendor earlier in the movie) to provide Mimi with an improvised blanket, he runs over to the phone to call 9-1-1, leaving Roger to comfort Mimi. As Mimi tries to tell Roger that there was nothing between her and Benny, Roger insists that he already knows and then begins to apologize for leaving, insisting that it wasn’t because he didn’t care about her. The weakened Mimi cuts him off in mid-apology, stating that she already knows what he wants to say, and then tells Roger that she loves him.

Roger, visibly distraught over how ill Mimi has become since he’d last seen her, begs her to hold on because there’s something she has to hear. He then proceeds to sing the song that he’d written during his return trip from Santa Fe, which is entitled ‘Your Eyes.’ It’s pretty much a full-on love letter to Mimi. In this song, Roger tells Mimi he couldn’t get her out of his mind while he was off in Santa Fe, and that she had captivated him from the moment she entered his life. The song also states that Roger regrets letting her slip away, because he’s always loved her. The moment Roger makes his confession, Mimi’s body goes limp as she passes away. And for the record, this is the point in the film when I started to cry. You might find it weird that I cried at Mimi’s death when I got through the death of Angel completely dry-eyed. In my defense, I didn’t find Angel’s character to be really fleshed out, so I didn’t know that much about him/her before his/her death. It’s rather hard to shed many tears over someone you knew next to nothing about. That and, as I stated earlier, the whole romance between Angel and Collins practically came out of nowhere, making it hard for me to be really invested in their relationship. On the other hand, Roger and Mimi’s relationship had been a primary focus through most of the movie. We saw that romance go through highs and lows, with their love being put through some rather serious tests. So by the time we get to the whole ‘Your Eyes’ scene, I was really rooting for these two to be together in the end. The fact that these two characters have come so far since the start of the movie only to have Mimi die right when they finally confess their love was simply crushing to me.

As Mark, Collins, Maureen and Joanne keep a respectful distance, Roger sobs over Mimi’s lifeless body. At that moment, Mimi’s hand miraculously starts to twitch, and she somehow comes back to life. Needless to say, everyone is stunned to the point of silence. As Mimi gets her bearings, she explains to her reasonably confused friends that she was heading to a warm, white light, but was stopped by Angel, who, according to Mimi, looked good. Mimi then pauses and turns to look directly at Roger, stating that Angel told her to turn around and “listen to that boy’s song.” Roger responds by choking back a sob and pulling Mimi close. Maureen, upon feeling Mimi’s forehead, announces that her fever is breaking. As the six friends rejoice in the fact that Mimi is now back with them, a jubilant Mark strides over to his projector to showcase his finished documentary, which he has entitled ‘Today 4 U,’ an obvious tribute to Angel. The documentary is revealed to be a testament to everything the Bohemians had done throughout the past year. The movie ends with everyone watching Mark’s documentary, relishing in their friendship and vowing to live by the mantra ‘No Day But Today’ by not letting the fear of the future stop them from treasuring the time they have together.

To this day, RENT remains one of the most treasured movies in my DVD collection. I suppose it might be surprising that a movie with no actual plot beyond simply following a group of friends throughout an entire year would be so powerful and moving, but there are so many elements in this story that makes it very possible. We’ve got a character struggling to overcome a serious drug addiction as she tries to choose between the drugs and the man she loves, another character who is still trying to come to terms with the knowledge that he has an illness that will one day be fatal, yet another character who has to live with the fact that his friends are slowly dying around him, two different romantic couples who have their relationship tested due to their own insecurities and difficulty in accepting each other’s faults, and the very foundation of a seemingly close-knit family is shaken when one of their number dies. What makes this story even better is how real the characters are. All the characters in this story have their negative qualities. Not one character is perfect. Even the character of Angel, who is frequently spoken of as a saint after their death, had some questionable qualities. (Remember that Angel practically killed someone’s dog and pretty much laughed about it afterwards.) In spite of these negative qualities, each character is still likable and someone you could even root for. Even Benny, who is virtually painted as a bad guy, isn’t a true villain. He’s trying to work for the greater good, but his methods to accomplish that goal end up creating an estrangement between him and his friends. The whole Benny vs. the Bohemians element brings an interesting debate to the story. Is Benny right, or are the Bohemians right? Is it better to hold true to your ideals or to put more emphasis on receiving a steady paycheck? Could it be that both sides have a good point, and the right answer is something in-between? What if there is no right answer? RENT leaves it up to us to form our own conclusion.

As I’ve already stated, there are indeed some aspects in this story that are rather strange when you think about them, whether it’s the musical lyrics, as is the case with such songs as ‘Over the Moon’ and ‘I Should Tell You’ or issues with the passage of time, like the fact that the life support meetings are being held three days in a row in the beginning. Of course, with the musical numbers, the oddness is pretty much intentional for the reasons I covered earlier. As for the time issues, this is simply due the obvious difficulty of translating the stage musical into a movie format. And for the record, I do admittedly prefer the movie version of RENT over the stage musical. While the stage musical is good in its own way, I don’t think I would have followed the stage musical very well if I hadn’t seen the movie first. (Others may feel the opposite, but I suppose all RENT fans are inclined to prefer the version they saw first.) Besides, I think the movie version handled the scene when Mimi dies and comes back to life far better than the stage musical did. With the stage musical, Mimi practically pops right up again like a jack-in-the-box, and her delivery of the whole ‘I saw Angel and she looked good’ line almost comes across as a joke. When Mimi comes back to life in the movie, she still looks and sounds weak and lethargic, as one would expect of someone who had been very sick moments before. That, and her delivery of the above-mentioned line is much more believable.

Before I finish this review, I probably should address this. As was stated during this review, RENT is a stage-musical-turned-movie. The original stage musical was the creation of an American composer and playwright, Jonathan Larson. His intent on creating RENT, which is considered to be his magnum opus, was to create a musical inspired by Giacomo Puccini's opera, La Bohème. And for those of you who have seen this opera, you will definitely see the parallels between both stories, with one significant difference. In the original opera, the character RENT’s Mimi is based on did not come back to life. (After all, how many operas have a happy ending?) However, Larson chose to alter the ending, as he wanted his musical to end with life rather than death. While RENT started off as a staged reading at The New York Theater Workshop in 1993, after a three-year-long collaborative and editing process, the version of Larson’s musical RENT that is now known worldwide was ready to be performed. Tragically, on January 25, 1996, the morning of RENT’s opening night off-broadway, Larson died of an aortic dissection, which is believed to have been connected to his undiagnosed Marfan syndrome. Despite his death, it was decided that the show would be performed as-scheduled, and at the show’s conclusion, in the silence that followed the applause, an audience member called out "Thank you, Jonathan Larson." The identity of this audience member is, to my knowledge, unknown, but I wholeheartedly echo that sentiment.

#movie review #RENT

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