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lucacangettathisass · 4 years

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how the light gets in (ch. 8)

SUMMARY: After your home is ransacked by a group of strange men, you and your cousin are taken in by a group of outlaws. And that’s when the trouble really starts.

PAIRINGS: John Marston x Fem!Reader, Arthur Morgan x Fem!Reader

ONE, TWO, THREE, FOUR, FIVE, SIX, SEVEN

TAGGING: @mountainhymn if you would like to be added to the tag list just lmk!

NOTES: so sorry for the slow update! ive been doing some full on hours at work (my manager literally told me that im doing full time hours despite being part time lmao rip) so that’s been leaving me a little drained lmao but hey at least we got there!

more mentions of low self esteem, those are gonna be a lot more prevalent from here on out actually.

on another note, i’ve been wondering if i should rewrite this as an oc fic rather than a reader one. thoughts? i might not even do it, but im curious to hear what you guys think.

anyways, hope you all enjoy! and dont forget, likes are nice but reblogs are what motivate creators the most!

p.s. pls check out waking up slow by mountainhymn!!!! it is so wonderful im still crying

“Well, it really all started with my momma.” You felt yourself begin to fidget and made an effort to stand completely still. “She got a job working for a wealthy Russian widow, Mrs Zamolodchikova.”

Mr Morgan let out a low whistle. “Now that’s a name.”

You couldn’t help but smile. “A lot of Russian names are like that. As I was saying, she hired my momma to be a maid when I was still very young. Mrs Zamolodchikova treated us very well, we even lived in a little cottage she had on her land.”

Despite all the years that had passed, you still thought of that cottage fondly. It had been small and not impressive by any means, but it had been your home for most of your childhood. You had a lot of good memories of it.

“I...I lost my momma when I was seven.” Even now, twelve years later, it hurt to say. Your mother had been your whole world, everything began and ended with her, and it had never once occurred to you when you were a child, that you would one day have to face the world without her. She loved you too much to do that to you. And then it happened anyway.

You had never experienced a heart break like it before, or since.

“I’m very sorry to hear that.” Mr Matthews said gently.

“It’s alright.” You assured him, trying to speak around the lump that always formed in your throat whenever you thought about losing your mother. “She had been ill for as long as I could remember, it was only a matter of time.”

“I imagine your aunt and uncle took you in?”

“They wanted to, but Mrs Zamolodchikova stepped in. She said that she saw it as her Christian duty to take me in as a ward, and that’s what I became.” It had stunned you at the time to learn that Mrs Zamolodchikova cared for you that much. You would always be grateful for her kindness, it had changed your life. “She had no children of her own, so I think she wanted me to fill that gap.”

“That was very kind of her.” Mr Matthews sounded surprised, and you supposed that it made sense. You couldn’t imagine that he had come across many people willing to take in the child of an employee, particularly among the rich. You certainly had never seen such a thing in your time among them.

You nodded in agreement. “She taught me etiquette and how to behave in upper class circles, and as I got older I became her companion. That was how I met Mr Cornwall.”

A spark appeared in Mr Van Der Linde’s eyes, and you knew that you really had his full interest now. “How did that come about?”

“He was looking for investors in his business, he was just starting out you see, and he needed some capital.”

“So he went to Mrs Zamolodchikova?” Mr Van Der Linde asked. “She must’ve been rather rich.”

“Exceedingly so.” You said. “Her family is very old Russian money, and when she came to America with her husband, her wealth only grew, even after he died. I imagine Mr Cornwall thought that if he could convince her to invest, he would have an easy time of building his empire.”

“Did he?” Mr Van Der Linde’s eyes sparkled with a kind of devious curiosity, the kind most often found in children. “Convince her to invest that is.”

“I’m afraid not. Mrs Zamolodchikova found him rather...disagreeable.” A part of you still cringed on the inside just thinking about that meeting. It had started off well, and Mr Cornwall had certainly been polite enough, but once his true character came out, it all started to go downhill rather rapidly.

“In what way?”

You hesitated slightly. “Well, I mean, one doesn’t wish to disparage others when they don’t have the opportunity to defend themselves.”

A chuckle came from Mr Van Der Linde, and you even saw a corner of Mr Morgan’s mouth twitch.

“We just want your honest opinion, that’s all.” Mr Matthews assured you. “No need to be disparaging.”

You paused, trying to think of the right way to phrase it. “Mr Cornwall...well, Mrs Zamolodchikova and I found him to be rather...brusque and arrogant. When Mrs Zamolodchikova turned down his request, he got rather upset and he seemed to take it as a personal affront.”

“She must’ve grown to regret that.” Mr Van Der Linde mused.

“Not at all. Mrs Zamolodchikova was happy for him of course, but she was also happy she rejected him. She said she couldn’t imagine being in business with someone so...tasteless.”

“Tasteless in what way?” Mr Matthews asked.

“Well he was...very new money.” When you saw the looks of confusion on the mens’ faces, you tried to think of a better way to phrase it. “He was something of a show off, and a little gaudy. He wore a lot of gold, I imagine to try and impress, but it came off as vain and rather insecure. Mrs Zamolodchikova was very critical of that kind of thing, and when she saw how self aggrandizing he became after his success, she grew to dislike him even more.”

Mr Van Der Linde nodded slowly, and you could almost see the wheels turning in his head. “It sounds like you’ve lead a rather interesting life.”

“I suppose you could say that.” Your eyes roamed over the two older men again. “I imagine that wasn’t the kind of information you wanted, my apologies Mr Van Der Linde.”

Despite your fears, the black haired man smiled and waved a hand. “It’s fine Miss [Last name]. I was just curious, that’s all. Javier, why don’t you walk her back to where she’s staying?”

“Sure thing boss.”

You turned to leave with Mr Escuella, but you hesitated just as he put a hand on the door knob. “Wait.” All eyes were back on you, and you felt yourself flush, but you felt that you needed to get this out. “I just-I just wanted to add that Mr Cornwall is a very powerful man, and in my opinion, and in the opinion of mutual acquaintances that he and I share, he is lead more by pride and ego than wisdom. He doesn’t take insults lightly and can be rather harsh.” You were very careful and deliberate with your words, not wanting to seem like you knew better, but still wanting to convey your feelings of apprehension.

Mr Van Der Linde raised an eyebrow, and you got the feeling that he understood what you were trying to say. “Duly noted Miss.”

You nodded, and turned back to Mr Escuella, this time actually following him outside.

“You must’ve lived a pretty good life for a while.”

You shrugged and felt yourself blush heavily. “I suppose.” It always somewhat embarrassed you, knowing how different your life had been from other people, especially those who were born into the same class as yourself. “I honestly just think I got lucky.” You looked down at your feet. “Don’t feel so lucky now though.”

A heavy silence hung between you two, and you had to bite the inside of your cheeks to stop yourself from crying.

“Sorry.” You said softly. “I’m sure you don’t want to hear about my woes.”

“It’s ok.” Mr Escuella assured you, his voice kind again. “Considering everything you’ve been through, I’d say you have a right to let your feelings out.”

You looked at Mr Escuella in surprise. You hadn’t really thought about it like that. “You’re very kind.” You said sincerely. “Sadie might not think so but I certainly do.”

That brought a bright smile to Mr Escuella’s face, which made you smile in turn. You always enjoyed making people smile, it made you feel good, and you felt that it proved that you were useful and worth something for once.

“You’re a sweet kid.” Mr Escuella’s eyes were shining, although you couldn’t hazard a guess as to why. “Don’t let anyone beat that out of you, ok?”

“I-Ok.” You weren’t sure how else you should respond, being so unused to compliments from strangers. You watched as he held the door to the house with the other women open. “Are you not coming in?”

“Nah.” He smiled. “You stay warm ok?”

“Of course, and you as well Mr Escuella.” You went inside, and no sooner was the door closed that you were practically swarmed by Miss Jones, Miss Gaskill, and Miss Jackson.

“What did they want?”

“You weren’t gone for very long, did everything go alright?”

“Are you allowed to say?”

You felt yourself flush as you tried to keep track of who was asking which question. “It was nothing special.” You said. “They just wanted to know how I knew Mr Cornwall.”

Of course they all also wanted to know, and so you told them what you had told Mr Van Der Linde, Mr Matthews, Mr Morgan, and Mr Escuella-omitting your warning at the end.

Much like the men, they were stunned to hear your story.

“So you grew up pretty well to do.” Miss Jones said, in a tone that sounded impressed and envious.

“I-Well, yes, I suppose.” The embarrassment from earlier had returned. “I was extremely privileged.”

“What was it like?” Miss Gaskill asked, sounding wistful. “Being in that world?”

You paused, trying to think of a good way to describe it.

“When I was a little girl, it was dazzling.” You confessed. “All those men and women in their finery...it looked like an entirely different world. Like a fairy tale.”

“Oh yeah?” Miss Jackson raised a brow. “Meet any prince charmings?”

You laughed. “I met some well to do gentlemen if that’s what you mean.”

“I think she means suitors.” Miss Gaskill said with a giggle, and an eager look on her face. “Well, did you?”

“Oh!” A scorching heat unlike any of the others from before overcame you, and you felt your throat dry up. “I-Well-no.” You stammered, looking askance out of embarrassment.

“Really?”

You looked up and saw Miss Roberts looking at you with surprise. “You mean none of them tried to…” She trailed off, leaving you to fill in the blank.

“Not at all.” You said, your flush worsening. “After all, I was just a maid’s daughter.”

And therein lies the rub.

No matter how much you learned or how you dressed or how you behaved, everyone knew that you were just the daughter of a maid who Mrs Zamolodchikova had taken pity on. Most of them had been polite enough, but that boundary had always been there, and always would be. You had grown accustomed to it, the way one would grow accustomed to a permanent limp. And it left you with what you imagined would be the same level of alienation. It was one of the many unfortunate side effects of being born as yourself, and one you had learned how to deal and navigate the world with.

But it would always be a fairy tale to you. Beautiful, grand, never within your reach no matter how well you knew it. And you would always be that little girl that chased after it with every breath in her chest.

#arthur morgan x reader #john marston x reader #rdr 2 #red dead 2 #red dead fic #fic: how the light gets in

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usuallyrics-blog · 5 years

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Fire In The Booth

New Lyrics has been published on usuallyrics.com https://usuallyrics.com/lyrics/fire-in-the-booth/

Fire In The Booth

[Drake:] Yeah I been waiting on this one Charlie, for real [Charlie Sloth:] I’ve been waitin’ Driz I’ve been waitin’, let’s get ’em bro [Drake:] Nah, for real Shout out Boi-1da too Mm, I like that [Charlie Sloth:] Let’s get ’em Driz [Drake:] You don’t have a drink, you’re not drinking or what? [Charlie Sloth:] I got a drink bro [Drake:] Hahahaha, I like that [Charlie Sloth:] I got my drink right here. Cheers my bro [Drake:] Toast up man Yeah, okay, yeah

Goldman Sachs, they wanna hold my racks Hedge fund investors talk to Adel like he the expert I hear it in they tone when they address him We way too connected Tom Ford assistant texted asking if I want classic or double breasted I flex with broad shoulders When I walk through the halls they move over Stories about how we handle ours start to travel like a lone soldier I told you You hold your girl the same way that I hold composure Or hold the wheel of the Fuji white Rover Silverstein dinners, all kosher Never rushin’ My niggas really made somethin’ from nothin’ Dodge sentences like they don’t wanna discuss it, change subject Got the Benny Yang chains rubbin’, never tucked in Waiting to inhale Things that I own will sell at auction as proof we did well My house museum-scale The only skeletons here are the ones from the nights I raised hell Make sure the staff are paid well Make ’em think twice ’bout the stories that they tell No one knows when the plan is hatchin’ I’ma let ’em walk on eggshells Tiptoe, niggas better know

[Charlie Sloth:] Wow, man like Drizzy Drake! [Drake:] Yeah [Charlie Sloth:] Got his foot on your neck man [Drake:] What time is it? What time is it? It’s like two in the morning right now. [Charlie Sloth:] Yeah, well it’s real late over here [Drake:] It’s me and Charlie, that’s it, you hear me? We got the whole building to ourselves. [Charlie Sloth:] We got the building. Kill them again, kill them again Driz, kill them!

[Verse 2: Drake] Y’all keepin’ the score while watchin’ me score Y’all keep the awards, I’ll take the rewards If y’all goin’ for fun, I’ll stay and record But if y’all goin’ to war I’m there for sure Wouldn’t miss it I’m living next to Michael, Bobby, Ralph, Johnny My neighbors soundin’ like New Edition That’s these guys Us guys don’t wear New Balance or Levi’s Key West retirement plan Grippin’ the Callaway club in my hand Hittin’ balls off of the balcony into the sand Tryna see where they land October Firm the new chain of command El chico, this verse is the explanation for the large ego 100 mill’ hands free like Ronaldinho I go from Star to Venetian in a small speedboat with girls we know Take your pick, Brooke or Tanya Both those shorties’d leave their GPS on so I can find ya Drop location Spring break trips, I’m in hot rotation I took a lot of my brothers from B and E licks or the pot rotation To ridin’ shotgun in a Picasso painting Tricks up sleeves, have ’em playin’ innocent to get the shits I need Loyalty is priceless to me and this I see Before I ever seen this shit tatted on P and tatted on C and tatted on me I speak truth and get to shatterin’ dreams So it’s best to tiptoe, niggas better know, yeah

[Charlie Sloth:] Drizzy Drake! You’re an animal Drake! You already know that you an animal bruh! Animal! [Drake:] I’m saucy! [Charlie Sloth:] Saucy! You just stepped out of the club straight into the booth like it’s light. Tear up the ting in one take! [Drake:] Showed up for you, you know what I’m sayin’? [Charlie Sloth:] My brother Drizzy [Drake:] My brother, you already know [Charlie Sloth:] Wow. And you know what it’s like. You stepped out the club into the booth to prove to everyone why you number one bro. Why you got your foot on their necks! [Drake:] Nah for real. I stepped in here, SN1, OVO, Fire in the Booth, Charlie Sloth. Come on. The official. I rock with the official. I’m on official ting, you know what it is man. Come on, come on [Charlie Sloth:] Ayy bro, it feels like that’s another moment there, you know what? Like, I got to say this to you on the real bro. The way that you’ve embraced British culture will be remembered forever. And the UK love you. The real G’s over here, you know that bro. When you go to your parties, you see who’s in your parties. [Drake:] Nah, you know what it is, of course [Charlie Sloth:] It’s the certies [Drake:] Nah, listen, but listen. It’s a family and it’s a big family, you know what it is. I’m just happy to be home, like I said man. [Charlie Sloth:] My brother, man. Foot on neck time. [Drake:] Yo, are these guys dumb? You see the big man Charlie too, oh my goodness. [Charlie Sloth:] My brother Drizzy. I can hear these rappers’ prayers man. [Drake:] Nah, I’m heated for you right now [Charlie Sloth:] They’re like, “Yo, please tell Drizzy to take his foot off my neck!” [Drake:] Nah, I’m heated right now man, oh my goodness. Shout out French Montana, my brother, you know what I’m sayin’? The big wave, yeah. Shout out Huncho, Quavo. Shout out Offset, blessings on the new ting. Oh my goodness. Shout out, yo–. I could go for hours. Charlie, come on man. [Charlie Sloth:] Ayy, you could go for hours. I was at your party the other night, I’ve seen who was there. I’m like, “Woah!” There’s a lot of people, there was a lot of faces in that party. [Drake:] Nah, I don’t wanna hear no chat for the whole 18 about Charlie Sloth. Are you dumb? Alright. Jheeze, jheeze. [Charlie Sloth:] And that right there: one take. A real moment right there. [Drake:] Yeah, jhee! [Charlie Sloth:] And that’s Fire in the Booth my guy! [Drake:] And I’ll be back January-February part two, you know what time it is. Come on! [Charlie Sloth:] Okay, okay [Drake:] Shout out all the G’s too, man. Shout out all the artists man. Everybody from here doin’ their thing. I’m telling you. Big inspiration. London, England, come on man. [Charlie Sloth:] Come on! You know I’ve applied for your passport, right? [Drake:] Hahaha. I need that

Who is Drake

Aubrey Drake Graham – Canadian actor and musician. Degrassi: Jimmy Brooks from the next generation. As a rapper, Drake uses his stage name.

#Drake - Fire In The Booth Lyrics #Drake LyricsArray

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smartoptionsio · 5 years

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Why Crypto Might Have A Boring 2019

Waiting for the Bull Run? Waiting for a ’17 revival? Personally, I think it will not happen in 2019. “Why delusional?” “Why FUD?” I hear some folks yelling, already searching for the forks and torches. Frankly, just because I think Crypto does not deserve it – yet. Take a step aside, take a deep breath and get your mind clear. Take a look in the mirror and if you don’t see $$ in your eyes, we can start talking…

First off, I think – without a technical analysis perspective – we will see a year of consolidation. Maybe 2 or 3k ups and down as a range (in a wider timeframe), but no 4k, 6k, 8k, 10k, 2ok,10000000k jumps. However, this is just an opinion, no prediction or anything, just a bare thought-driven impression, I’d like to share with you.

What we saw in 2017 has been h-y-p-e on steroids. Millennials that saw their chance to jump into the next internet – and an industry was there to cater them. Crypto has been the first touch with the world of finance, investing and trading for many young folks. No entry restriction, quick, fast gains, and much thrill and excitement – nice ingredients for a good hype. And the industry was there, oh boy, it was there – embracing the mob which runs their doors, waving with dollar notes. A tokenized potato ICO exit scamming with the word Penis is just one example of many weird ideas and scams, that made crypto a persiflage. Lord knows, the tech – it has the potential to change our world for the better, but our glass bowl mentality let us stick to the price development. The media was there, Bitcoin in Big Bang Theory, Bitcoin in the Kardashian webshop, Rapper singing crypto songs and chicks decorated their nails with Monero and Litecoin logos for Instagram pics. Ugh. Is the sustainable mass adoption? Nah, it is a fancy fad – and not what smart money is looking for.

Recently, I wrote a small narrative on our telegram channel, where I wrote, I’d even like a $1 Bitcoin. Got me some laughter and I can deal with it. I was not meant, that I would not like a price increase for my own holdings investment-wise, but at the same time, it meant that Bitcoin means more.

Besides trading the coins on the blockchain, there is so much more important in Crypto. Sure, I’d like to see a 20k Bitcoin again, but considering the tech and the opportunities it brings in a micro and macro economical sense, I would love Bitcoin as a $1 coin as well. Regardless of its price, it contains an option, a possibility of freedom. Bitcoin is a symbol. A symbol for freedom from the power of banks and the shady games they play on the little man, freedom of the phucks politicians are creating with their currencies and their gamble with our wealth. Think about it and you might agree that the price is less important. Many people out there, often referred as nocoiners, say that crypto is just a passing phase, a recent frenzy. They are like a guy sitting on a beach with his back to the sea. The blockchain is like a fast-rising tide. No matter how comfortable the guy feels right now, the tide is rising with each crashing wave, and very soon, one of those waves will come crashing down over his head and engulf him.

I am long-term bullish on Bitcoin, but we will need time to clear the market and polish a shit show to a glamour gala. Because, this is what the crypto industry is right now – a brutal shit show. What did the ’17 hype left over? Some techies, gamblers which are desperately trying to cover their loss and some idealists. All waiting for the smart money to come back and make Crypto great again. But I don’t think we will see this kind of immature hype again. Crypto will grow, but I can imagine slow and steady – once the market has been washed all the scams and fast money mumbowambo. We need shops accepting crypto, we need crypto to become a normal part of our lives. On the other hand crypto will always be a good tool for scammers and shady individuals – it will remain dangerous for the people on the street, because of the responsibility which is given to the user itself. But, well there will be regulation, there will be increased user-friendliness and much more that is actually against the nature of Bitcoin. It was born as an anarchist, self-sufficient tool for people that take care about their own actions and don’t give all responsibility to an institution to handle it for them, but it seems exactly that is needed for a healthy price development.

We saw NEM go, we saw the ETC team taking a hard hit, small coin companies are leaving the field daily, not to talk about all these shitty tokens. So few ICOs have shown MVPs and working products a company would be proud to show off to its investors. So many ICOs creating products nobody would ever use, hence trash projects are vanishing every day. And this is a good thing, we need a clearing, we need the capital condensed in proven projects, where big communities are working on and have chances to become mass-adopted in the daily use. Right now, there is no space for a gazillion of garage projects with no further value, then the Binance price to become exchanged against Bitcoin. Crypto has to prove itself, and smart money sees this already coming. You see the bullish news all around, but you still wonder, why it does not reflect in the price, right? The answer why it does not do that, is easy – they positioned themselves, but their horizon is not 3-6 months, it is 5-10 years, and especially Bitcoin with its limited/decreasing supply will become very interesting.

Crypto might need more time to take a breath, to kill its parasites and to grow up. We are collecting more and more long-term bullish fundamentals for a mature market. All we need to do is to stay here and observe, mimicking smart money and build a strong position over time. You might have some time to increase your BTC stack. To close this little pamphlet with Bon Jovi, whose music I really, really dislike, I will use the title of a terrible song:

“Keep the faith”

The post Why Crypto Might Have A Boring 2019 appeared first on Smart Options.

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oselatra · 7 years

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HIA Velo brings bike-building back home

The Little Rock manufacturer says the heck with Asia, builds carbon-fiber bicycle frames in Little Rock.

You may think it has nothing in common with the bike that Bicycling magazine has proclaimed the "hottest bike of 2017," Allied Cycle Works' Alfa, a sleek racing ride practically as light as air thanks to its carbon fiber construction.

But it does. Like AMF's old Roadmasters of the 1950s, '60s and '70s, the Alfa is manufactured in Little Rock. The factory, on Brookwood Drive in Riverdale, doesn't turn out 3,000 complete bikes a day, as the AMF factory did on West 65th Street, but what it does is special this way: With the exception of billion-dollar bike-maker Trek and artisan builders, Allied Cycle's is the only carbon-fiber frame manufactured in the United States, and Trek is making 99 percent of its bikes in Asia.

Little Rock native Tony Karklins, who founded and is CEO of the manufacturing company HIA Velo, which created the Allied Cycle Works brand, says the company will have produced between 800 and 1,000 bikes by the end of this year and plans to double that number in 2018.

So not only does the Alfa model have a "Made Here" label on it, Arkansans also can take pride that it's made in Little Rock. That's thanks to Karklins.

"What separates HIA Velo from anybody else setting up a bike company comes down to Tony Karklins," says cycling journalist Patrick Brady. Brady, who writes about cycling on his blog, "Red Kite Prayer," came to Arkansas from California in May to see the operation and try out the Alfa All Road, the multisurface member of the Alfa family. "I don't have any reason to build up the legend of Tony Karklins — it doesn't do me any favors," Brady said, "but he's one of the most interesting people in the bike industry right now."

Plus, Brady said, he's smart. "He understands what it takes to make a quality bicycle."

So here's how you become a quality bike frame manufacturer in Arkansas: You raise close to $3 million from some well-heeled folks — they trust you because of your 36-year career in the bike business — and buy at a bankruptcy auction a factory that had been in business for 24 years (Guru) in Montreal. (The $400,000 loan you get from the Governor's Quick Action Closing Fund and the $50,000 grant for training helps, too.) Then you haul the factory to Arkansas in six semi tractor-trailers. You fly Specialized bike company engineer Sam Pickman to town from California and put him up at the Capital Hotel ("with all the upgrades," Karklins says); Pickman immediately buys a house in Hillcrest. Guru's mechanic, Olivier Lavigeuer, decides he'll join you, moves from Montreal to downtown Little Rock. Jim Cunningham, founder of CyclArt, knowing nothing about humidity, agrees to move from San Diego to Little Rock to create the amazing paint finishes on the bikes. You spend your first year in business putting in about 100 hours a week developing the frame, hiring and training dexterous workers to place the 351 small and weirdly shaped pieces of carbon fiber that go into the making of the frame. Then you hire another 25 to cure the frames, machine them, sand them, paint them, put them on a rotisserie so the paint doesn't drip and ship them out, either fully assembled with parts ordered by the customer or the frame alone.

The process — from bringing the factory to Arkansas in March 2016 to putting out five to six bikes a week now — has been accomplished at "hyper speed," Pickman said.

But the business is still ramping up, tweaking the technology and production time and proving that the investment was a good one. Karklins envisions a factory that one day will employ 250 to 300 people and sell several thousand bikes a year. But right now, marketing is taking a back seat to catching up with the orders that "clobbered" Allied after Bicycling magazine wrote that the Alfa "absolutely rips."

Why in Little Rock? Because it's Karklins' hometown, where he's been in the bike business since he was 11 years old, when he had a job at Chainwheel fixing flats. And because investors wanted it here.

"I knew it could be done very economically here," Karklins said. The factory space "costs $6,000 a month to rent here. That would be $50,000 to $60,000 in Southern California."

Why bikes? "Because I was a troublemaker growing up," Karklins said. "My parents had been saving money for a minivan — they were both social workers — but instead they figured out a way to buy a small piece of Chainwheel so I could get a job. They knew I was going to get in trouble in the afternoons if they didn't plop my ass in Chainwheel. It gave me structure. So I grew up in bike retail in Little Rock."

By age 16, Karklins — who didn't even ride a bike before he began working at Chainwheel — had purchased a third of the business and become manager. "It gave me a home and it was really cool. The people were cool in the bike world. And I loved the equipment and I loved selling bikes. ... I loved selling bikes to people like you," he said, nodding to this reporter, "because I'd teach them about bikes and see that that customer would come back and buy a better bike and then a better bike and within two or three years be doing the Big Dam Bridge 100. I'd think, 'I did that to that person.' I love that."

The annual Big Dam Bridge 100 is in its 11th year. By the time it rolled around, Karklins had been in the bike business more than two decades: He'd bought and sold Chainwheel and brought the U.S. headquarters of the Spanish bike brand Orbea to Little Rock. He was Orbea's North American managing director from 2004 to 2014.

"Then," Karklins said, "I went off on this quest on what to do next." After visiting 20 bike companies that he thought should be in the United States, he decided he didn't want to do that again. "I had this sort of epiphany," he said. "Nobody makes anything here. It's really kind of sick." So, rather than marketing a bike made in Asia, Karklins decided to create and manufacture a brand here.

Bikes aren't manufactured in the United States for the same reason nothing else is made here either: It's cheaper to manufacture abroad. "It's hard," bringing manufacturing back to the U.S., "and after being involved in this project, we know how hard it is," Karklins said. To make it in the U.S., "we have to be smarter, faster and do it in a place like Arkansas," he said.

But if it's hard to build here, it's equally hard to be innovative when you don't, engineer Pickman said. The 36-year-old — one of the fastest amateur cyclists in the U.S. before he got married and settled down — began working at Specialized right out of college in 2004. Unlike at Specialized, for Allied he doesn't have to fly back and forth across the Pacific Ocean to meet with manufacturers, and he doesn't have to convince his company to invest to come up with something new. "You're handcuffed" at big companies, Pickman said. "You say, 'I want to try this,' and they say, 'Nah.' ...

"If you really want to evolve, take bicycles to that next step, you have to break out of that model. That's what drew me to this."

At HIA Velo, where he is hands-on during the whole frame-making process, Pickman can not only improve on the Allied brand; he can also improve on "literally every unit" of the Alfa the plant turns out.

"Our business model," Karklins said, "is to identify all the things that the big companies that manufacture in Asia cannot do, and that's exactly what we are doing."

The Alfa, which comes in 12 sizes and can also be custom-sized ("in case you have extremely short arms, or something," Pickman said), sells for between $4,000 and $10,000, depending on the needs of the buyer. Allied Cycle Works will fit the frame out with the gears and handlebars and seats, etc., of the buyer's choice; the buyer chooses the color, as well.

The bikes are competitive with those sold for $2,000 to $4,000 more, cycling writer Brady said. "The Alfa All Road — it's a bike that I put alongside the best from the biggest companies in the world." And, he added, he's reviewed thousands of bikes. "So this Alfa that I'm reviewing, I'm going to make it mine."

What makes the bike so good, Brady said, is the quality of fiber work going into the frame: "It is an order of magnitude more complicated" than other work he's seen.

Carbon fiber is both light and strong, which is why it's used in aviation, but the fibers run in only one direction. For strength, they must be laid into the frame form in pieces in varying orientations — Brady compared it to papier-mache. In addition to coming up with the strongest fiber recipe for each frame, Allied has partnered with polypropylene fiber manufacturer Innegra Technologies of South Carolina to add another layer of strength to the carbon.

For Little Rock cyclist Traci Howe, however, the reason she decided to buy an Alfa when she wanted to replace her old Orbea bike, was not just its quality, but because "I wanted a bike that was made here in America. I thought, 'How cool is that?' "

Howe, 45, who rides with the bike club CARVE (Central Arkansas Velo, no connection to HIA Velo), also likes the look of the bike. "There's a little symbol on the downtube," she said, referring to the eagle logo, and the word Allied in small print on another part of the bike, and that's it. Other bikes, she said, have their names all over them. The Alfa has a clean, sophisticated look.

HIA (which stands for Handmade in America) Velo (bicycle in French, deriving from the Latin for speed, as in velocity) owes a large part of its success to cofounder Doug Zell, Karklins says. Zell, the founder and CEO of Chicago's Intelligentsia brand coffee and a bike enthusiast, co-founded HIA Velo. The Times couldn't get an interview with him, but Karklins described him as "one of the most interesting persons I've ever encountered. He lives in Boston, Chicago, bought a house in Napa and now he lives [in Little Rock] in the Heights; he relocated his primary residence to North Jackson Street."

Zell, who founded Intelligentsia in 1995, sold a majority stake in the company to Peet's Coffee in 2015; Karklins knew he was looking for a new project. "I really went to him because I wanted his help in crafting a brand. That's hard stuff. I've been in other projects, you create a brand and present it to the world and it's like crickets. Doug was very instrumental in bringing the Allied brand together."

When Karklins took the first finished Alfa to Philadelphia to meet with the editors of Bicycling last year, he was nervous. "We were flying to Philadelphia with this bike that was going to be on the cover and no one had ever seen it." He took it out of its case, "and everybody went, 'Oh, my god.' It was the coolest, most genuine moment."

The bike — which had come off the line only three days before — was chrome red and classy. "The bike industry has been in this Nascar graphic thing: How many times can you put your name on a bike?" Karklins said. He'd once sold a bike that had its brand name on it 21 times.

The look of the bike was important because the old way of selling bikes had changed. "When I was with Orbea," Karklins explained, "the way it used to work was you would find the fastest rider and he would be in every one of your ads and your catalog. And then they'd all get busted for drugs. So we thought, 'Shit, we've got to come up with a new way.' "

The eagle logo on the bike is just like the eagle on the Intelligentsia coffee packaging, only its wings are lifted; it's in flight.

Zell is also the founder of The Meteor coffee shop, which opened in June at the corner of Kavanaugh Boulevard and Markham Street, in the same building as Spokes bike shop. Zell also bought Spokes, which is now known as Spokes at The Meteor; it will gradually coast away from the Spokes name. The Meteor is co-owned by Chris St. Peter, a lawyer and friend of Zell's from Chicago.

St. Peter said coffee shops and bike shops complement each other: "There's a general sense of community. Coffee houses bring people together and cycling also serves that purpose." So it made sense to him and Zell to combine the businesses. It also made sense to do it in Little Rock: Zell was involved in HIA Velo and Little Rock had a "vibrant" community of cyclists, St. Peter said. The historic building that Spokes is located in — the old Little Rock Paint and Wallpaper Co. — also seemed perfect. The Meteor has renovated the famous Little Rock Paint sign and will restore its neon.

St. Peter, who enjoys racing, was surprised at the number of bike enthusiasts in Little Rock. He participates in the once-a-week "Velo lunch ride" that sets off from the Brookwood office and heads to Burns Park over the Big Dam Bridge. It's as fast a ride as any St. Peter participates in, he said, with cyclists zipping along at 30 miles per hour.

Not surprisingly, St. Peter rides an Alfa, which he calls one of the best all-around racing bikes, "proficient in all categories," from stiffness of material to aerodynamics to comfort. "It's among the best bikes I've ever owned," he said. He hopes to be able to sell them in the bike shop when Allied Cycle is geared up to get ahead of its orders.

Arkansas may be flyover country, but it is in the early stages of becoming known as a destination for cyclists. There are a number of biking clubs in Little Rock — Mello Velo, Major Taylor Cycling Club, Arkansas Heels on Wheels, the Arkansas Bicycle Club among them.

"I had no idea that the cycling culture was so strong here," Pickman said. He finds it curious that Little Rock doesn't do a better job of selling its River Trail to tourists. Little Rock's cycling is known regionally, but not nationally yet.

That's not the case in Northwest Arkansas, where the Walton Family Foundation has poured money into creating bike trails. The trail system — which includes more than 200 miles of mountain biking as well as the Razorback Regional Greenway from Fayetteville to Bentonville — "scrambled my brain," said cycling journalist Brady. "It's colossal. And the cost of living there ... I could move to Bentonville tomorrow and all my money woes would disappear." (Brady lives in Santa Rosa, Calif.) "The imagination used in creating those trails is world class," he added.

The Big Dam Bridge, which opened in 2006, has undoubtedly contributed to Arkansas's biking and hiking culture. It has given Arkansas an identity other than the place where Orval Faubus called out the troops to keep nine black children from desegregating Central High, a reputation happily replaced by its being the birthplace of Bill Clinton. The Big Dam Bridge 100, the Tour de Rock and the Little Rock Gran Fondo may not be as famous as the Mt. Tam Century in Marin County or the Leadville 100 in Colorado, but they do attract cyclists in the thousands.

But Arkansas's noncyclists have a long way to go, noted members of the CARVE group gathered last week at the Clinton Presidential Center for an evening ride along the Southwest Trail to the Terry Lock and Dam. A woman named Sheila — this writer didn't get her last name before she pedaled off — said she's had bottles of water thrown at her from passing cars, once in the Rockwater riverside neighborhood in North Little Rock and once in the parking lot of the Two Rivers Bridge, which is dedicated to pedestrian and bike traffic. Sheila's companion said cars have gunned it behind him and passed with little room to spare; they do not understand, nor do they want to understand, road etiquette. One of Little Rock's rides, the Wampoo Roadeo Metric Century, honors the memory of cyclist Marilyn Fulper, who was killed by a driver who just didn't see her on the road. Upholstery tacks have been scattered on Highway 300 and Pinnacle Valley Road, a popular biking route northwest of Little Rock.

But if Little Rock could get its motorists educated, it would find that having a cycling infrastructure improves the quality of life in a city. It's a way to not just attract tourism or new business but, Brady said, to convince people who might otherwise move off to literally greener pastures to stay.

That bike trails increase the appeal of a region is an idea that seems to have finally sunk in at the Pulaski County Quorum Court, which in June turned down a $2.6 million federal grant to engineer a 65-mile trail between Little Rock and Hot Springs, part of a "rails to trails" program. A few justices of the peace said the grant's match — $520,000 to be split between Pulaski, Grant and Garland counties — would be better spent on highway improvement. A study's conclusion that the trail would be a multimillion-dollar boon to the economy by bringing tourist dollars and jobs to the county did not convince them. Last week, however, the JPs reversed course and voted 10-3 to accept the grant.

Central Arkansas Water is also studying putting a mountain bike trail around Lake Maumelle. "That would be huge," Karklins said.

In the meantime, Allied Cycle Works will build its business. Karklins hopes to get ahead of orders and have a showroom in six months or so. The company, which is working with distributors in five companies in Asia, has also worked out a deal to distribute the bike in Scandinavia. The United Kingdom and Spain are next.

HIA Velo brings bike-building back home

#HIA Velo brings bike-building back home

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blackstarlinebrewing-blog · 7 years

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They told us we wouldn’t win...

They told us we wouldn’t win…

Last night and all morning, Ekua and I have been thinking about our experience at #bbsession, Brew Bound’s Startup Brewery Challenge. There’s so much to share and probably many pieces we’ll write about our experience. At the end of the day, we knew we weren’t quite ready to be on the stage. We’re not going to be in bottles or cans anytime soon, so we don’t have marketing that we could display on the stage. We can’t legally sell quite yet, because we don’t have the cash/financing, to get that stuff in place; so we’re in limbo. We can’t get a damn financing or know investors who will take a chance on us. The local CDFI is even like, “nah, we’re gonna have to pass homies.” Ok, that’s not a direct quote, clearly. Then, it’s like there will maybe, kinda be funding for less than what we need and we’re just gonna have to figure it out. No, these aren’t excuses, just the reality.

Going in to the competition, we didn’t have any more beer. Quite frankly, we stopped brewing because we couldn’t afford it. We had to use a store credit we had from past purchases to buy some ingredients. Our flagships, Stokely Stout and Dat Dere, couldn’t make it because we didn’t have the cash to produce. We, as always, transparently let folks know the realities and started to raise funds, but they didn’t come quite quickly enough. Those closest to us were hesitant to support because they felt strongly we would not win. So, we did what we know how to do when we’re up against a wall, undercapitalized, poor, and bootstrapping… we made it work. We turned three batches of beer in 9 days.

As far as we know, there’s never been Black women on the stage. There’s never been queer POC on the stage. We knew, no real start-up had ever won the startup brewery challenge at #bbsession. Most of the winners were fully capitalized, had tap rooms, were in distribution, and at a stage we’ve been trying to grow too. It was a risk.

The folks at the local CDFI talk about how we would make it being undercapitalized… well, as Black folks on this land, we always do. Manning Marable said it was Capitalism that underdeveloped Black America. Right… Undercapitalizing, not funding, holding the purse strings tightly, squashing the economic liberation of a people; is simply called genocide. It is by design that the institutions and systems have “certain rules and limitations” with regards to who has access to capital. Most simply, it is called racism. We know it is patriarchy, white supremacy, and the intersections of all the other interlocking supremacy systems.

Let me be clear: We are so grateful for the funds that were received! We would not have been able to be on the stage had it not been for the widespread community support, #grassrootsreparations, and love offerings. Thank you, thank you, thank you. We’re sorry we only got the silver but know, it was our full intention to come home with the Gold.

No, I know that had we received the full $2000 in advance of our trip, we would have won. Really, we needed $2450. But we would have been victorious - Hands down. Is it worth spending half of the prize to get the W?! Absolutely. Bringing that W home meant we could come back and not have to worry about getting evicted, which is now ever pressing in our minds. It legitimizes our work. It lends us credibility, and perhaps, it would have let the folks at the local CDFIs know that we’re actually worthy. If we had the cash, this is how we would have used it:

· $150 would have been spent brewing our delicious flagship brews: Stokely Stout and Dat Dere Ginger Beer. These would have impressed both the judges and the crowd. There have been indisputably positive, overwhelming, and enthusiastic reviews for these two delicious brews.

· $50 would have allowed us to make enough of the Ginger Brew botanicals for all of the conference attendees.

· $350 would have allowed us to buy a jockey box so that we could have kept the brews fresh and served them fresh to participants, attendees, and judges. Admittedly, our head retention was super low because of the beer being in growlers for days. Since we’re on a budget (what an understatement), we had to pour the beer with us when we left NC on Tuesday morning. Not ideal for a competition where folks wouldn’t be tasting until 48 hours later.

· $175 would have been enough for us to print our marketing materials, business cards, and make sure that we had them in time for the conference.

· $250 would have been enough for our much needed logo re-design.

· $750 would have given us the opportunity to have the mock ups of the bottle labels completed as well as much needed new swag so that we could appropriately represent the brand. Shit, it would have been nice to have some branded growlers instead of print-at-home Avery labels, that didn’t stick, on the growlers. There’s just some marketing stuff we need to tighten up.

· $500 transportation – So, we needed an oil change, gas, and DAMN – NYC transportation is expensive!

· $150 for food – We’ve been super frugal and have some “government assistance” that we can use as individuals to help offset our costs. So grateful for this social program right now!

· $75 for spiritual supplies – Absolutely necessary. We would have loved to be able to build an altar at #bbsession. However, cash was tight and we were a rolling altar.

As is typically the case at things like this where either one or both of us present, they said we were the best. We had the best pitch. They were inspired. Some folks were in tears. They called us the “people’s beer.” Many folks were really apologetic and said that if they could have voted, they would have voted for us. Ekua and I (both collectively and individually) stood by the drinks being poured and listened to folks responses when they tasted our beers. They loved it. We loved the older white dudes saying “wow!” “This is good” “Haven’t had anything like this before.” “What is this? I like this a lot” “Where can I buy it.” Our security guard friend really loved hearing people’s responses and continued to give us encouragement throughout the day. After the pitch, he was very apologetic and encouraged us to keep going. He let us know we were the best and there wasn’t even anyone else who could come close.

It was so odd to keep hearing these comments throughout the rest of the day and evening. Later, after folks got a bit more liquored up J, we found out we were second place. Some of the judges wish they would have known more information. We wish they would have asked.

There was a moment on the stage where I was waiting for questions. I grew up in Bel Air, Maryland; in Harford County; in the suburbs. I went to all Blue Ribbon schools. I’m a woman. I’m a Black woman. I was waiting to be asked questions so I could respond. No one ever asked questions, so I sat silent. I feel like, ironically enough, Audre Lorde is kicking me in the ass… They were drinking The Lorde. “My silences never protected me…” FUCK! Then, I watched my male colleagues (mostly white) just start speaking and responding. What the actual fuck? Why didn’t I do that? Oh, right, I was raised to be silent, respect authority, and all that female subjugation bull shit. Wasn’t it the former Sales Manager Dan Dalton who told me not to ask for people’s time, just take it. Fuck, these dudes have grown up like that their whole lives and just created space to talk and interact with the judges. Why didn’t I? Fucking patriarchy. Shit.

So we won silver. Cool. I’m really excited for all of the collaborations, partnerships, and opportunities that are on the horizon.

However, I can’t stop thinking of other Black women who’ve been in competitions like this. They ended up not winning the competition, were clearly the best, and made great careers. Look at Jennifer Hudson. The most successful American Idol contestant. She lost to a (closeted at the time) gay white man and super sweet cuddly bear Black dude. Jennifer was clearly the best. J-Hud has gone on to establish herself in the industry and continue to push and inspire. Y’all know I love The Rap Game… Look at Nia Kay. She DEFINITELY should have won over Mediocre Mani (at best) and Keep it Together Key (I love you, Lil Key though). Nevertheless, she kept it pushing and is really becoming solid on the young rap scene. Of course, there’s my home girl: Deetranada. Dee had some challenges but needed the win. Nova, due to skill, arrogances, and his support crew, would have been able to make it in the industry. Deetranada inspires so many, grew so much, and really focused. But damn, she’s still on the So So Def tour.

Of course, there’s always the case of HRC – Hillary Rodham Clinton. After having to concede to the young Barack Obama in ’07, she came back kicking and did great things for our country. SHE WON the popular vote, after it has been confirmed that there has been Russian interference, and still she persists. Fucking badass. They told her she wouldn’t win, she won (but didn’t), and even in the wake of all these haters, including in her party, she continues to work tirelessly for a better place for all of us.

You know, this is not new. Black culture being told its second rate. Let’s look at “Living Single”. The white version of this became wildly popular and created stars. It was called, “Friends.” Or let’s look at “Waiting to Exhale.” I’ve never met a Black woman who hasn’t seen this movie. For us, it was a first. It pretty accurately captured our experiences. Of course, “Sex in the City” was the spin off. Our culture wasn’t enough, it was too different, too unique, and too authentic. But not so much so that white folks wouldn’t want to experiment with it and launch their own.

On the intentional sweetness of our beers: We know our folks. Our folks love sweet drinks: kool-aid, sweet tea, and so forth. How many types of juice or soda (Fuck high fructose corn syrup), do you have in your fridge right now, folks of color? The industry depends on us having this sweet tooth. Folks capitalize on us having it and have made our folks addicted through the harmful additives. We know this and want to queer this a bit. AND, we know folks love smoking and drinking. The bitterness of the cigarettes or other rolled sweets necessitates something sweet and refreshing. But again, it’s not their market or culture to understand UNLESS it can make them money. Here’s the secret: it can and it will. We’ll be the beer pioneers on this front.

This mindset of the liberal whites at this conference helps me to understand the mindset of those who voted for Trump against their best interest, right? They were and are so tied in to the system that they literally cannot conceive another way. The misappropriations of their power were astounding. The cowardice was something I could never truly comprehend. It’s like its easier for them to uphold the system that do something as so radical as voting with what’s in the heart. To contextualize: what’s the worst that could have happened if we won? Empowerment of Black, queer folks living on the margins? Affirming the dignity and value of something that’s unique and distinctive that the industry just spent an entire day saying it needs? Supporting the authenticity that was so vividly described in discussed in the opening? Or perhaps, just taking a chance. Folks take chances all the time, especially as related to our freedom and liberation. Think about the folks that voted for Trump just because they couldn’t vote for a woman. “It just didn’t feel right”, they said. I heard these people say just that as I stood with them for hours outside of Lenoir-Rhyne University waiting to see him.

Look y’all, folks talk the talk about being authentic. But when you’re Black, you can’t be too authentic or too real because you’ll scare whites. Right? The back lash to white folks realizing their privilege and their agency to be change-makers, is and has historically been to uphold the status quo. It’s frightening to be the ones to be change makers and quite frankly, most folks don’t have the courage. It was so fucking awkward to be at the after party and overhear folks talking (in their quiet white circles) about how they thought we should have won, how inspiring we were, what could they do, did they know *insert X fact that we shared*. This happens so frequently in situations like this. Where we could have won, did not, or where we could have received funding, or a place to call home, whatever!... and then folks find out more and are deeply saturated in their white guilt and shame. 5 people literally began to tear up and cry on that roof top. How was I supposed to hold space for their sorrow, guilt, and shame while still processing that we lost, juxtaposed with folks saying we were the best, the best they’ve ever seen, etc.? Uh, what? I think about what my father told me… it is these types of folks who allowed lynchings to happen in his home state of South Carolina. It is these folks who may have voted for Trump. And it is these folks that we’ll continue building with because this is our work and the work of #blackstarlinebrewing. This is the work we’re being called too. This is why its imperative for Black Star Line Brewing to exist now, to radicalize these spaces, and to help us (as our new friends at Good City say) “seek the good”.

And yes, it’s pretty awesome that we cranked out these brews, in 9 days, on our homebrew equipment, and got the silver. That’s fucking badass. So yes, they told us we wouldn’t win. But I’m certain they weren’t expecting us to get the silver!

All of this to say, hell yes – we are so grateful to have been at the event, make connections, have a platform, and let the industry know we’re on the come up. We’re blessed beyond belief and never imagined even competing in something like this. We’re so grateful for the prayer warriors and those who held us in the light. Grateful for Gma’s prayers with Starla cooking in the background and Jo eating too many cookies. We’re grateful Bishop prayed over us and anointed us. We’re grateful my Pop (Larry) prayed fervently. My family held us in prayer and in the light. The community was on their knees, we felt it. Thank you. We’re so appreciative of all of the affirmations and commitments for collaboration, assistance, mentoring, and support. We’re following up with all of y’all! Black Star Line Brewing Co. is the new kid on the block and we’re changing the scene, y’all.

Well, folks kept asking “What’s next” for Black Star Line Brewing Co. Most immediately, we’re gonna figure out how to get this $ so we can pay rent and not be evicted. We’re gonna figure out how to get out here and start pitching more. We HAVE to figure out where this funding is going to come from so we can actually get out here and start brewing. Where are all these white, liberals, and progressives who voted for Barack Obama and Kamala Harris? Where are these kick ass beer folks who are so interested in transforming the industry and want to talk about diversity? Note: diversity is very different than inclusion or even intersectionality. Diversity is the polite white way to say we have a problem with all the homogeneity, and we don’t know how to fix it, but we’re afraid to do anything other than what we’re doing now, because there might be too much of y’all; what’s the minimal thing that we can do to not get ourselves screwed, sued, and look like white supremacists? And we certainly can’t have more of you than us! So help us diversify, good darkie.

What’s next is that we’re gonna continue to grind. After all, we’re a grassroots, family centered brewery launching a social movement rooted in self-determination, social entrepreneurship, collective economics, and our collective healing and liberation. We’re creating pathways out of poverty for folks, including us. We’re strong. We’re resilient. We are #blackstarline.

#bbsession #blackstarlinebrewing #blackbrewculture #blackpeoplelovebeer

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shalegas34 · 7 years

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bizarre love triangle chapter 5

“It happens,” Macquarie said with a shrug. “You take risks, sometimes you lose. No risk, no return.”

Jamie Sykes had called after the news with an earbashing, but Macquarie reminded him the portfolio was designed to offer an 18% return on average. At least a couple of the 30% companies were expected to become redundant.

Sundance had folded from poor management, not a falling oil price. The equity issue had been a last-ditch attempt to save 3000 SA jobs in the Bight oilfields, but creditors had gone ahead and forced the administration. ‘Involuntary voluntary administration,’ the press was calling it.

Macquarie was up to his eyeballs in work trying to salvage something for the fund investors from the wreckage. His options were worthless now the stock had been suspended from trade, though he argued against that for all he was worth. Despite all of this, he still took time out to talk to me about the EOFY investor presentation.

“I need you to make Northstar sound good,” he urged me. “Everyone’s spooked. We didn’t even sign Sundance a month ago. I can’t let these people run.”

“I’m not sure I can do this,” I said.

“Yes, you can,” Macquarie replied. “I believe in you. Talk to Rowan, see what she can give you. Morgan Stanley was paid to sell that stock. Talk to Jule, she’s got records of clients. Find out what their interests are, and pander!”

I was sweating. I answered the phones. I couldn’t hold this kind of weight.

“It’s administrative,” Macquarie urged. “I just need you to collate information. Please.” I’d never seen his eyes so void of life. “I was up until 4 last night, video conference with the management in Texas.” He rubbed his forehead, which was starting to wrinkle.

“Things are getting a bit tough, Aurizon,” he said, meeting my eye. “The ’37 crisis hit the Sydney property market harder than anything. We couldn’t get a cent over five hundred for the house.”

My jaw dropped. Macquarie had lived in a million-dollar suburb.

“Barely enough left for a down-payment here. Sydney’s job is covering most of the mortgage. I’m not going to lie – the fund is struggling; nobody wants to touch equity right now. If we lose Jamie Sykes, I have to move the kids into a rental.”

Macquarie was crumbling before my eyes. I wanted to reach out and give him a hug.

“Come on. Let’s walk to the train station,” he said one night the next week. I was still floundering, trying to wade through the impossible quantity of information I’d been sent by Rowan, half of which made no sense with my proletarian vocabulary. I’d only just finished googling what a tranche was by this stage, and Macquarie needed a convincing presentation by the end of the month.

“This presentation is nothing more than a sale,” he said to me, as we took the lift down from the 9th floor. We were squashed together in one corner; I hadn’t seen anybody go home before eight in days. I was feeling hot, but it was probably just the cramped space. I tried not to look at Macquarie in case he misconstrued my blushing for romantic feelings. He smelled really good though, god why.

“It’s just a sale,” he said again. “That’s your goal. You only have to think about how you’re going to get there. It’s like a journey where you’re planning out truck stops.” I suddenly thought of Princess Monster Truck, who was recovering well in hospital. “Use your imagination. You’re rich and you want to get richer. What do you want to hear?”

I realised Macquarie was waiting for an answer.

“Uh…” I looked him in the face. Those eyebrows I used to love. “High returns?” I managed to rasp out, aware of all the highly educated bankers surrounding us and listening in.

“That’s definitely part of it,” Macquarie said. “And don’t be afraid to spit it out; you’d be surprised at how much you know. People want high returns, solid risk management, and legal assurance, and social responsibility is a bonus. Those are your truck stops. Put something together, then make it sound good, because the numbers only do half the job. You can make Northstar sound like a gold chest or a scam using the same numbers.”

We headed out of the building and began ambling towards Flinders Street station. I naturally wanted to walk faster than Macquarie, but I made a conscious effort to slow myself down. That was comfortable.

“You know, I was trying to explain to Sydney the other day, what it's like working with you," Macquarie said suddenly. "They didn't get it."

"Oh. It's been a while, I guess," I offered.

"Nah. They think you're fully straight and narrow... Uh, books-wise, I mean," he added quickly, considering my appearance. "But you're actually a wild card. You could do some really good shit around here."

I wasn't sure what to make of his assessment, not that I'd never been called a wild card before. It was just usually used as an insult.

"Just take some ownership of the project. I'm okay with that. It's not like I have time not to be."

We swiped our myki cards and split up at the top of the escalators. Macquarie headed for the Glen Waverley line, and I watched him disappear into the train, where he looked weirdly vulnerable without his spacious office flanking him. Times might've been hard, but that wasn't a bad direction to be heading in. I wasn't far out of the city, so I just jumped on whatever was leaving next. Frankston, maybe. I didn't even check.

---

We walked to the train together the next two nights too. I had really started labouring on this presentation when the phones were quiet. The structure was hardly a handout, but I tested it a few times on Leila until she could follow what I was trying to say. Macquarie had told me to keep it accessible to "plebs", which I assumed meant non-bankers.

My conversations with him became increasingly circular, but I stopped caring. Work became my excuse to talk with Macquarie, and I spent my days strangely passionate about interest rate hedges, and other things which had nothing to do with my life or my little side project.

"I took Travis to see Princess Monster Truck the other day," Macquarie said on Thursday night. "The nurse remembered me so she let me in. Travis loves cats." He started laughing like that was somehow an entertaining interest. "I thought of him when you yelled at me about Princess."

"You should come round and see the other one," I offered, then immediately regretted it. I realised I didn't want to see Macquarie with his family.

"We still have to catch up," Macquarie agreed. "Our schedules are crazy though. Sydney does weekend shifts, and I get to coach Travis through his debating tournament." The word "coach" was accompanied by an exaggerated wink.

"He always throws it if I'm not there. I just point at people to keep him on track, you know? Otherwise he rambles on and goes over time. It's not even cheating, but they keep threatening to lifetime ban me. Travis would throw a fit."

The corners of Macquarie's mouth lifted lazily.

"It's always the smart ones."

My face burned, but I couldn't deny the quality of that roast. I was crisping up. "Please, I won't have any skin left at this rate."

Although I bantered on the outside, I was really growing to appreciate how Macquarie had let my ridiculous breakdown, of which I was duly embarrassed, slide right off his back. No hard feelings, and he never dished me out an ounce of pity. Maybe he didn't care enough to treat me differently, but I hoped not, because I could really use a friend like that.

The week after that, after I'd knocked my presentation out on her, Leila invited me to an admin staff cocktail/quiz night on Friday.

"Come on, it'll be good. We have a banker table," she said, giggling.

"Oh yeah, who's going?" I asked casually, taking the bait.

"Jule, Macquarie, Kirk... Porter said she might."

"Macquarie..." I said, smirking as I thought of Travis's sacrifice.

"You are way too excited about him," Leila said, turning to Jo so they could laugh at me together.

"Ha," I said, rolling my eyes. So what if I wanted to hang out with him? Macquarie had been in Adelaide for a few days, going through preparations for the Northstar offer, and the office was kinda lonely. Neither Macquarie, Rowan, nor Sally was responding to anything by that point, so I figured things were heating up over there.

Meanwhile, the most action I'd seen was snatching up a pack of Bottlemen tickets that morning. I still wasn't sure how many kids there were, so I went 6 just to be safe. I could always sell one on downstairs if I'd fucked up.

Macquarie called in the evening, sounding like death warmed up. "Everything's almost ready over here," he said. "I want to get us a visit to the mine, to give you a bit of perspective, but I also need to meet with the manager." He took a deep breath. "Sally has been... well, weird. I mean, she was always keen on Northstar, but she's putting words in the directors' mouths now. About the expansion timeline."

He left it at that.

"Is there anything I can help you with?" I asked.

"Thanks Aurizon, but I've got this," he said. "I'll let you know when your stuff's organised."

Ouch, I'd needed that. I didn't remember when I'd started thinking of myself as someone important round here.

"No problem," I replied.

We left it at that.

---

The week dragged on slowly. I wasn't going to lie, I was holding out to see Macquarie again, which was ridiculous. I tried to focus on my work. It wasn't like I had nothing to do; with new deals in the pipeline, I was getting proper business calls at a dozen an hour, pinged over from Macquarie's direct line as he bummed around in Adelaide.

Friday afternoon, I left work early to help Leila and the others set up the cocktail night venue.

The bankers arrived at 6.30, Macquarie fresh off the plane.

"Hey Aurizon," Jule said brightly, like we were best of friends all of a sudden. "How's it going?"

"Good thanks. You?" I said, sneaking a glance at the weirdly reticent Macquarie. He glanced sideways back at me and smirked.

"There was that email I never got back to you about, I'm sorry..." Jule began, before launching into what she'd prepared. She walked me through our five biggest investors and gave me some tips on their values. Jamie Sykes liked to think he was playing it safe, while Victoria Super needed real assurance. Amanda Ling could be impressed with environmental innovation, but the Tate brothers preferred reckless profits.

"We're heading out for pres," Macquarie seized his chance when Jule stopped for a breather. "But I'll introduce you first. This is Aurizon, of course. Aurizon, this is Kirk from prudentials and Porter Cleeson, head of debt."

"Nice to meet you," I said.

"I've organised the Northstar site visit for us," Macquarie said. I pretended I didn't hear Porter scoff in response, and did my best to explain to her and Kirk what was I was doing.

"Ah, it's good to get Aurizon riled up sometimes," Macquarie said, with a wink to me.

"It's going to be a long night," I sniped in return, and everybody laughed.

"We'll be back before 7," Macquarie said, as the bankers filed out to hit the bigger bar upstairs.

The quiz night was a riot from the start, even though I spent most of the time on Jo's table staring at Macquarie's back. My teammates got smashed but I didn't feel like drinking.

Turned out, it was a good thing I kept my wits about me. We were placing a respectable sixth out of 14 teams when Sally Zhou turned up in a stunning cocktail dress, and sat herself down without asking at Leila's table.

#special tag 4 #i had to write all this shit down before it escaped my memory :P #sally and northstar are made up of course but that's about it #in other news my mind always goes blank and comes back to Jule and Porter when i'm naming minor characters #Rowan is a new one because I found out someone in my BV group's first name is Rowan and i thought that was cool #Travis is really the only name I thought out (yeah it is a port reference. if you know jason's son's name you'' understand lol)

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