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wxshing-aep · 2 years

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I really want to kiss you (pt 2)

andrew garfield x famous! reader

One Rule Series

pt 2 to We were not eye-f*cking!

In which you shouldn’t get involved with your costar but you and andrew have a lot of trouble keeping your hands to yourself

rating: ??? mainly pg 13 but it gets a tad smutty (swearing, sexual themes, once again horny andrew and horny reader)

all characters are ages 20-22. Andrew is 21, Reader is 20. In this universe only Tobey’s spider-man movies have been made so Tom and Andrew are not spider-man. I also use current young Hollywood actors as characters so it’s basically present day except Andrew is the same age as them if that makes sense! reader’s friend group/ costars consist of andrew garfield, zendaya, florence pugh, hunter schafer, tom holland, and timothee chalamet. There’s also some background tomdaya for the sake of the plot

a/n: omg okay hi? thank you guys so much for all the love on pt 1! i’d like to make this a series but i’ll probably keep it in the sort of hc bulletpoint format and if anyone had any suggestions or requests for the andrew x costar! reader escapades or would like to be tagged in the series feel free to let me know! Also i will be making a masterlist as soon as I figure out how to do that lol.

You like to think you have pretty good self control and you do

that is until the 2 A’s are involved: Andrew and alcohol

You and your costars are currently scattered around your living room in the middle of a Cars marathon and because of Florence’s brilliant idea of taking a shot every time you hear the phrase ‘kachow’ it’s safe to say that everyone is fairly wasted

You get touchy when you’re drunk and maybe that would explain why you’re currently resting your head in andrew’s lap, platonically of course, and he’s an equally touchy drunk which would probably explain why he’s taken your left hand hostage mindlessly drawing tiny shapes in your palm and playing with your fingers, platonically of course

Somewhere between the first and second movie everyone else had fallen asleep on your couch or on the floor and as the credits roll you look up to find that Andrew’s already looking at you

“hi” he whispers and you respond with a hi back before adding an “are you tired” to which he just shakes his head and after a pause adds “I’m a bit hungry though”

So that’s how you ended up in your kitchen with andrew eating little generic sugar cookies with Christmas trees printed on them

“These cookies are quite festive but it’s a bit early don’t you think?” Andrew comments with a nudge to your side

“It’s never too early”

“It’s literally June. By all rules of holiday timing that is entirely too early”

“Yea but rules kinda suck.” Your statement immediately reminded him that he probably shouldn’t be doing what he’s doing right now as your director’s words play back in his head. ‘Don’t get involved with your costars. Keep it in your pants’

So he definitely shouldn’t be standing this close to you. Or looking at you like that. Or thinking about you way he is right now. “Yea rules kinda do suck” but he takes a step closer to you anyways

It’s right about then that you realize how close he is to you but neither of you make any moves to distance yourselves

“We could uh- we could go watch another movie” you offer to try and get your mind off of how close he is and how good he looks and how he’s now sporting a black tank and some shorts and his biceps are on display and shit since when were his arms that-

“We could. We could. Or ya know not because I’ve uh I mean I’ve seen them all already so it might just be a waste of time” his voice was low and gravelly and god he’s so hot

“You’ve seen all the movies?” You ask causing him to nod his head up and down

“mhmm. mhmm I’m really really into movies. Big movie guy but um didn’t you say you got that new Spiderman video game we could play that if you want” he is kinda just rambling now because at some point his hand had found your hip and you once again made no move to distance yourself and his eyes keep trailing down to your lips and he thinks you might have the prettiest lips he’s ever seen and-

“We could. Or not because I’m alarmingly good at that game so compared to me you’d suck and I wouldn’t want to hurt your ego”

“Oh, how kind of you” he teases

“I know I’m a saint, but if they ever decide to make another movie you’d probably make a hell of a spiderma-“

“I really want to kiss you” oh. He nearly surprised himself with how bold his statement was and you realize that you’re now nose to nose. And your eyes travel from his eyes to his lips and back. don’t get involved with your costars. don’t get involved with your costars. don’t get involved with your costars. “but if I kiss you” he continues “I don’t know if I’ll be able to stop kissing you”

Fuck it

You grab him by the shirt and pull him into you closing the gap as your lips meet

He responds instantly and suddenly he’s everywhere: his hands on your body as he backs you up against the counter, his lips on yours, and his hands drop down to your ass giving it a light squeeze as his tongue enters your mouth

Andrew thinks he’s died and gone to heaven. His mind has gone fuzzy: being this close to you, actually holding you in his arms, finally getting to know what your lips taste like after months of sneaking glances at them when you’d talk with him for hours on set

His hands travel down to your thighs to lift you onto your kitchen counter without breaking the kiss

Your lips move down to his neck earning a whimper from him that makes you weak in the knees

“fuck y/n” he moans barely above a whisper and you think you might spontaneously combust on the spot

His hands find the buttons of your pajama top before lifting your head up so you’re face to face again

“Is this okay?” He asks playing with the buttons of your shirt and you nod giving him the okay to remove your top

“Wow” he says with wide eyes when he discovers that you’ve decided to go braless for the night and his eyes are glued to your bare chest

“so are you just gonna stare or-“ you tease. He takes in a deep breath before responding “sorry they’re just like perfect so I feel like I just need to commit them to memory” after a pause he adds “okay I’m good” and brings his right hand up to grope at your boobs, kneading them in his palm, thumb brushing over your hardening nipple as he returns lips to yours occasionally kissing down to your chest to suck a nipple into his mouth

You slide your hands under his shirt and he takes the hint that you want it off and separates from you briefly to pull it over his head

“Wow” you return back ogling his shirtless body. “you want a minute to commit it to memory?” He asks. You wrap your legs around his waist and pull him back into you and drag your hands down his chest resting them on his abs. “Mm I’m more of a hands on learner myself” you respond pulling him into another kiss

You’re not sure how long you’ve been making out at this point but his hands are starting to play with the waistband of your shorts causing you to giggle and pull away from him. “Maybe we should move this somewhere else. People eat on this counter ya know.” You suggest and without missing a beat he counters with “oh don’t worry, I definitely plan on eating something” your eyes widen and he just continues “but I kinda really want you to sit on my face and I guess that’d be kinda hard on the counter”. You weren’t expecting him to have such a casually dirty mouth but you definitely were not complaining

He’s just about to lift you off the counter when you’re interrupted by a light turning on in the hallway and the sound of footsteps and you are suddenly aware of how naked you are in your kitchen with a man that you’ve been making heart eyes at for months: definitely not a situation that you can ‘it’s not what it looks like’ your way out of because frankly it’s exactly what it looks like

There’s not much time to look like you weren’t just doing what you were doing but you manage to hop off the counter, Andrew shielding your body with his as he hands you his shirt to put on

In a few seconds, a shirtless somewhat disheveled looking Tom rounds the corner letting out a startled “oh shit” when he sees the two of you, not really expecting you to be standing in your kitchen in the middle of the night. “Sorry guys I was uh- I was just uh-“ it’s at about this moment that Tom fully registers that Andrew is just standing there, shirtless, and his attention is then brought to you who just so happens to wearing the shirt that Andrew was wearing earlier. You can practically see him putting the pieces together in his head as he takes in both you and andrew’s flustered appearance and spots your discarded pajama shirt on the floor before returning his attention to the two of you with a slight smirk on his face knowing that he’s been teasing Andrew about his crush on you for months but he didn’t know if he’d ever make a move. Andrew is red in the face looking guilty as ever and you wonder how this is the same guy. that had just shamelessly told you he wanted you to sit on his face.

“Any reason why you’re shirtless in y/n’s kitchen, Andrew?” He asks smug as ever. Andrew is quick to try to come up with an excuse. “Look mate, we were just-“ “oh I know what you were doing”. Tom interrupts sending a wink Andrew’s way. It’s not until now that you begin to take in Tom’s appearance.

“Is there any reason why you’re shirtless in my kitchen Tom?” You ask. Tom suddenly fumbles for a response “oh uh ya know just uh wandering around, such a lovely house the show runners put you up in y/n. Love what you’ve done with the place. Looks real ni-“ Tom is interrupted by a voice from the hallway “Tom what’s taking you so lo- oh shit. Heyyyyy guys” Zendaya says entirely too suspiciously as she enters the room wearing Tom’s shirt.

You and Andrew shared a look. oh you were gonna have some fun with this.

“I like the shirt Z, where’d you get it” Andrew starts. Tom is quick to jump in “Look, we were just-“ “oh we know what you were doing” you interrupt now with the same smug attitude tom had earlier.

“Okay how about this” Z starts “we didn’t see you. you didn’t see us.”

“Deal.” You respond immediately but also shoot each her a look that says ‘we will talk about this later’. “Guest bedrooms are upstairs”

“Oh we already found them but uh could you get me a water from the fridge” tom asks and Andrew opens the fridge and tosses a water to Tom. “Use protection” you comment teasingly as they turn to leave.

“We’re just sleeping y/n, but as for you hope you don’t choke on his dick” Z teases back. “Hope you do choke on his” you respond earning you a laugh from. Tom and Andrew and a middle finger from her as she follows Tom up the stairs mumbling a “there’s nothing going on between us my ass” in reference to your earlier conversation.

After a moment you go to pick up you shirt from the floor and stand back up to feel Andrew’s strong pair of arms wrap around your waist and his lips meet the shell of your ear

“so... where were we?”

read part 3 here!

#andrew garfield #andrew garfield x reader #andrew garfield x female reader #andrew garfield x you #andrew garfield imagine #andrew garfield x famous! reader #famous!reader

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fortunatelylori · 5 years

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People are not what they seem – Thoughts on episode 7

This episode was a bit of a mixed bag for me. There were moments I loved but overall it left me more than a little frustrated.

Sparks joy

Arthur Parker

Arthur has always sparked joy for me. His pineapple takedown was one of the most iconic moments of this show and he does not disappoint in episode 7. A lot of people were surprised to see him make the salient points to both Sidney and Georgiana. But I would argue that’s because they haven’t paid attention to Mr. Heywood’s warning back in episode 1.

People are not what they seem in Sanditon and you shouldn’t let what other characters think about one person or another influence your opinion of them. Arthur might be a hypochondriac but, by and large, he has been considerably less trouble to anyone than the likes of Georgiana or Tom. He has also always been, in his own way, incredibly wise and brave. He asked Georgiana to dance when everyone was staring at her in a state of shock and he taught Lady Denham a lesson when even Sidney remained silent.

So it’s no small wonder that the task of reminding Sidney that Eliza Champion might not be the most trustworthy person in the world falls onto him.

It could hardly fall onto Tom … Listen I’ve tried my best to be as understanding with Tom Parker as I could be, making excuses for him left and right. But no more! In this episode alone, he tries to pass off his passive aggressive bullshit onto Mary when she rightly makes him see that hanging around Lady Denham’s drawing room like a carrion crow makes him no better than the likes of Edward Denham. He fallows that up by trying to push his younger brother into a quickie wedding to a woman that abandoned him in favor of a richer husband and sent him on a self-destructive path that almost killed him. What a bozo!!!

At the very least, as his older brother, it was up to Tom to advise Sidney to be a little careful in restarting his relationship with Eliza. But no, that task falls unto Arthur because Tom can’t be trusted with anything more challenging than miniature house building.

Esther and Lord Babington

Speaking of people not being what they seem, these two are by far the biggest surprises Sanditon has to offer. Esther started off as a combination of Mary Crawford and Caroline Bingley and she’s turned into freaking Ingrid Bergman in Gaslight over here!

Don’t ever let anyone tell you Sanditon is just a shallow bodice ripper because the way it went about effortlessly depicting a woman struggling through an emotionally abusive relationship with a narcissist is masterful! And her setting herself free of Edward in this episode was glorious!

As was Lord Babington proving to be a better Darcy than Darcy himself. His deep empathy for her, his complete rejection of Edward’s bitter gossip mongering and his unconditional support was truly moving. Bless him and his orange handkerchief!

PS: Give this man a first name, Davies! He’s earned it!

The Heraclitus of it all

Again, I firmly believe that the people who are dismissing this show as just a spot of shallow entertainment, aren’t really paying attention because the whole scene of Charlotte’s assumed humiliation is so carefully and masterfully built it’s delightful to watch

Charlotte takes Sidney’s “I’m certain Charlotte would prefer to be reading Heraclitus” line as an insult that depicts her a country bumpkin who is not fit for the fashionable London crowd.

But should she? We already know that Sidney reads Heraclituss himself. They were just bonding over that on their little boat ride. And look where his line comes into play:

Eliza: There must be a boy in your village that’s caught your eye.

Lady Susan: Why should Charlotte be limited to her village?

Eliza: I always think it helps to share a common background, that’s all. Miss Heywood is hardly likely to find a kindred spirit in this company.

Lady Susan: Why not?

Eliza: I just imagine she must find our London talk unspeakably tedious. Wouldn’t you agree, Sidney?

Sidney: I have no doubt Charlotte would rather be sat somewhere, quietly reading Heraclitus.

What Sidney is actually saying is that there is someone there who is a kindred spirit to Charlotte: HIM! He isn’t insulting her or laughing at her. He’s making a call back to their London ball scene where they both felt out of place but found solace in each other. What he’s telling her is that he doesn’t belong amongst Eliza’s crowd either.

This kind of subtle, clever writing is actually a lot rarer than you might think and, for me, drives to the core of why Andrew Davies is such a fantastic writer. He not only understands how to present a period drama to a modern audience in a way that is fresh and interesting but also how to create these moments of brilliant writing complexity almost effortlessly.

Georgiana Lambe

Georgiana, the character, isn’t really sparking joy for me as she’s behaving like an utter brat but the writing for her character is. She’s been terribly hurt for the first time in her life so she’s lashing out anyway she can. Also this line is brilliant:

Sidney: I am all too aware that I have fallen short as your guardian. But please believe that I am sincere in my desire to make amends.

Georgiana: Men like you cannot change.

Why is that brilliant? Well because Georgiana is engaging in one of the oldest and most popular forms of toxic anger: transference. What she’s really saying is that Otis will never change enough for them to be together. But Otis isn’t there, Sidney is so he gets to be the punching bag du jour.

The reason why depicting her grief in this way is so compelling is because it’s so natural to her story. She was already feeling like an outcast in England, not loved or wanted by anyone. Otis let her concentrate all of her self-worth entirely on him (one of the worst things he did and not the only one but that’s a subject for another meta) and then failed to live up to his inherent promises. Georgiana feels that no one cares for her and so she pushes the people who are trying to help her away so she can have her very own self-fulfilling prophecy.

And while her interaction with Sidney might be somewhat understandable considering his cold attitude towards her in the beginning and also the fact that whether or not Georgiana likes it, he’s the closest she has to an actual parental figure, her attitude towards Arthur absolutely is not.

Her insults, thankfully, fall on deaf ears because Arthur knows he is a precious lily of the field and we are all very happy he’s here!

Does not spark joy

Sidney and Eliza

From what I see in the tags, no one is really all that fond of Eliza … I wonder why … lol …

But protectiveness over my ship isn’t really why this storyline didn’t spark joy for me. It’s actually because it failed to live up to its potential. The writers chose to make Sidney and Eliza’s reunion all about how that affects Charlotte and dedicated very little time to the Sidney/Eliza dynamic.

And it started so well too. I had high hopes when Sidney said this:

Sidney: A man cannot step into the same river twice.

What Sidney is talking about in very poetic terms if what in my country we call “reheated soup”. That’s what Eliza is … a chance to reheat the soup. Except that the saying goes: reheated soup never tastes the same which is absolutely true when it comes to relationships. Tempting as it might be to rekindle something, it very rarely works out because the reasons why you broke up in the first place will eventually rear their ugly heads again. Which they do in their case as well, when Eliza needlessly attacks Charlotte, proving herself petty and superficial.

But because we never stay with Sidney enough to figure out what his attraction to her might have been once upon a time, because we don’t get to see how reuniting with her is stirring not only his feelings of long lost longing but also of the trauma she caused and because we don’t even get to watch their last conversation together, it all fails to make the impact that it could have made. Which is a shame …

IMDB has Ruth Kearney listed for episode 8 as well and a part of me hopes Eliza will be back next week and we can have a bit of a do over.

Lady Susan

I know everyone likes her and the actress is delightful. However as much as I might enjoy her in isolation, within the context of the story she remains a poorly introduced character who is only on screen to push Charlotte and Sidney together (we never find out why she’s so invested in this) and to act as a deus ex machine for the regatta.

The “half agony, half hope” that is …

Charlotte

I really hate to do this because I love her but most of my frustration this episode came down to Charlotte.

Her behavior was confusing, dissatisfying and at times quite thoughtlessly cruel. Most of that was directed at poor James Stringer.

As you know, I am a Charlotte/Sidney shipper so I don’t have a problem with Charlotte not returning James’ affection. In fact I’ve made the point in the past that the whole Tem Stringer vs. Team Sidney promotion was silly because it was clear there was no rivalry there.

However, Charlotte behaves very poorly to him in this episode. It’s the second time now (the first was in episode 4) where she’s used James as a stand-in for Sidney. Every time she’s talking to this boy, her mind is miles away and she ends up missing all the signs that she’s stringing him along (no pun intended but the clue is in the name, I suppose).

What Charlotte really wants is for Sidney to give her the same undivided adoring validation Stringer gives her and because he isn’t, she ends up engaging with James in a way that is less than ideal. That’s not so say she necessarily realizes she’s doing this but her thoughtlessness is starting to be frustrating.

Which brings me to … her behavior towards Sidney. The way unrequited love seems to work for Charlotte is that it makes her less than generous and she looks for any opportunity to cut Sidney loose, so to speak.

She doesn’t attempt to put up a fight for him at any level, despite this being the girl that fights for everything that matters to her. And it all comes crushing down during the conversation with Eliza, when she takes the smallest opportunity to completely shut him out.

It’s also kind of hypocritical of her to still be angry at this comment at the end of the episode, when she did far worse. I mean if you want to talk about someone being someone else’s “source of amusement” look no further than:

Charlotte (imitating Sidney): You see, Georgiana, this is exactly why I locked you away in Mrs. Griffths’ dungeon. To keep you out of mischief, while I, Sidney Parker, gallivant around London with my high society, dandy friends.

So while deciding that Sidney was an ass to her is tempting, I’d like to point out that, as I’ve shown earlier, there is nothing mean spirited or negative in his comment at all. So is it fair to say that Sidney hurt her when the most obvious explanation is that Charlotte is insecure? She has been since the moment she met Sidney and Eliza instinctively preyed on that insecurity. And Charlotte not only let’s Eliza hurt her but she also transfers her insecurity firmly onto Sidney’s shoulders, instead of owning it or resolving it.

The reason why this is in the half agony, half hope category is because I’m not sure if the above is the writers’ intention or if I’m trying to make this more interesting than it actually is. If their intention is to paint Charlotte as completely right about everything, while Sidney is the fool who needs to repent and Stringer is the guy who got ahead of himself, I’m going to be pretty disappointed.

For the moment, we’ll have to wait and see, I guess.

#sanditon #sanditon 2019 #my meta #charlotte heywood #sidney parker #young stringer #arthur paker #georgiana lambe #eliza champion #charlotte x sidney #sidney x charlotte

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ravenvsfox · 5 years

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what’s up what’s up what’s up, here’s rockband au chapter nine as promised!!!

Andrew hands Neil his t-shirt. It’s Saturday, and they’re in Neil’s room, shoulder to shoulder, moonlight quivering above them like a ladle-full of mercury.

“Walk me through it again.”

“Walk yourself through it,” Andrew says. “It’s not that complicated.”

Neil holds the shirt in a ball against his bare chest. “Closed venue. Metal detectors. Sixteen songs. Quick encore.”

“Riko’s not coming.”

Neil swallows, thinking of the number seven in bold, underlined. “He might.”

“I told you to stop believing everything he says he’s capable of,” Andrew says. Neil strums his fingers on the messy wad of his shirt. “He threatens ten people before breakfast. He doesn’t realize how defended you are.”

Neil turns his face into the pillow and screws his eyes shut. “It’s not really about him. It’s just—I don’t know. I trust my instincts.” He doesn't mention the final numbers in a drawn out countdown. He doesn’t rehash the details of Riko’s threat. It won’t change anything.

Andrew shifts and splays his hand over Neil’s jaw. “Don’t,” he says. “They lie.” He scrapes his teeth over Neil’s neck. His half-hour old yes hangs in every corner of the room like smoke. They’re so close, he feels like a shadow being painstakingly gathered up and rolled on.

He licks his lips so close to Neil that his tongue flickers against his skin, and his pulse reacts to the feeling, thunderously fast. He feels the brief pressure of Andrew’s hand on his wrists, and he makes himself go boneless beneath him.

Every time they do this, Neil replays everything a moment after it happens, stockpiling the taste of the frantic breath trapped between them, the hot, calloused hands up under his clothes. His mouth is perpetually gasping open, Andrew’s wet hair choked in his fists. He never used to want anything like this, so badly it could kill him. It could really kill him.

“Neil,” Andrew says. Neil chases his mouth, but Andrew sits up over him, slouched against his hip. “Don’t do this if you think it’s your only option.” “What do you mean?” Neil breathes.

“I don’t need this,” Andrew says, holding a hand down hard on Neil’s chest. “Neither should you.”

Of course I need it, Neil wants to say. I kiss you and I feel — the way music feels before it leaves my mouth. When it could be anything.

“I just want to,” Neil says, shrugging. Just. Like there’s something nonchalant about admitting it, like it’s nothing to him. He waits for Andrew to call his bluff.

He doesn’t. He just looks down at him, slides his index and middle fingers over Neil’s hipbone, and kisses his chest.

Oh no, Neil thinks. We’ve been so stupid.

His hands make the shapes of the chords, but he can’t seem to play them. His vision swims white.

He can hear what his part should sound like, the dark wind chime cacophony, big-band style backgrounds underneath the grind of furious twin guitars. He should be the food colouring bleeding into their batter.

“Play,” Kevin says bluntly. “This isn’t a read inside your head kind of deal.”

“Yeah,” Nicky says. “Share with the class.”

“One second,” Neil mutters.

“I’m serious, get out of your head,” Kevin says.

“Give me a fucking second,” he snaps. There’s a cool moment of silence.

“We’re never going to be ready for Saturday,” Aaron says, ducking out from under the strap of his guitar.

Neil’s ears burn. He plays some simple inversions so it seems like there’s something musical going on behind his eyes other than alarm bells.

“The rest of us are going to play,” Kevin says. “Catch up.” He slides his fingers down the neck of his bass like he’s slitting a throat. Andrew launches himself at the drum-kit, and Neil blinks at the time signature on his music, the little 6 stacked over the 8.

One, two, three, four, five, six. Play. Play. Play.

He plays a natural A instead of a flat, and the structural integrity of his first chord crumples. He blinks, disbelieving, at his hand, hunched over the botched note. He straightens all of his fingers. The song gallops on without him.

“Are you okay?” Nicky mouths. Neil frowns. His head is full of numbers.

It turns out the song isn’t very good without vocals or keys. Kevin is obviously aware of it, and his face is sour, clenched like a fist. Neil watches his pursed mouth, then Nicky’s concerned brown peach-pit eyes, and Andrew and Aaron’s uncannily synced expressions of disdain.

“I’m sorry,” he says, before the last note has completely died.

“Useless. That’s utterly useless to me,” Kevin says.

“I’m distracted.”

“Obviously,” Kevin says tightly. “Let’s go again.” They play for a minute. Andrew puts his sticks down suddenly, and the tempo trips over its own feet. He stands up amid the clatter of directionless instruments. “Jesus Andrew, fucking participate.”

He sidles out from behind the drums and walks wordlessly out of the room. Neil immediately gets up to follow, but Kevin catches his arm.

“This distraction, Neil, it’s poison. If you let it progress I will never forgive you.”

“You don’t have to worry about anything progressing,” he tells him.

Kevin’s grip loosens. “This isn’t a joke to me,” he says quietly.

“I guarantee you I don’t find anything about you funny.”

Kevin sighs and looks at the ceiling. “Okay.”

“Five minutes,” Neil says. He shakes Kevin loose and stalks out of the room, feeling a little shock of adrenaline lifting his feet.

Andrew’s waiting for him around the corner.

“Don’t be an idiot.”

“Okay,” Neil says.

“You’re not careless like this. Not about music.”

“Don’t worry, it’s not about this,” Neil says, gesturing between them.

Andrew narrows his eyes. “Riko’s not going to hire a hit on you at a public gig, and the more you obsess about it the more I think you might actually be clueless.”

“You don’t already think that?” Neil asks, surprised.

Andrew ignores him. “If you’re so afraid of losing your voice, then why are you going silent now?”

“It’s not just about my voice anymore. It’s about all of us. You—“ He searches Andrew’s face. “You must know that.”

“I try to know as little about you as possible.”

“Right.”

He watches Andrew’s tightly closed expression and wants so badly to screw it open.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Andrew says.

“Just—distract me?” Neil begs.

Andrew considers. “From what?”

He steps closer. Andrew lets him. He doesn’t bend backwards in Neil’s blustering, wanting wind.

“From him.” He doesn’t say Kevin and his prying, or Riko’s posturing, or his father’s oppressive memory, but Andrew seems to understand.

He understands all the way into Neil’s space, and then he understands his mouth open and his thighs apart, and he gives him something to press down into, when the piano keys wouldn’t budge.

They sway. Music trickles through the halls from somewhere. Maybe out of Neil’s mouth.

“Oh,” someone says.

The interruption is a lightning strike, and it splits them in half. Andrew uses Neil’s chest as leverage to push himself backwards several feet. He’s overcorrecting, trying to close off his expression and hold his breath, wrenching a door closed over the vulnerability of being seen wanting something.

Neil sucks his bottom lip into his mouth, and tries to get his equilibrium back, shifting from being deeply kissed to being shoved halfway across the hall.

“Oh,” Nicky repeats. “Oh, fuck, um. Sorry. We’re just—starting.” He holds a hand to his face, half laughing. “Oh my god.”

Andrew wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, and Neil and Nicky watch him breeze past them both.

“What the fuck, actually,” Nicky hisses. Neil shakes his head, speechless. “You’re— no, I can’t even talk about this.”

“Good,” Neil manages.

“Actually, wait, I definitely can,” Nicky says. “That’s my—Neil, you know that was Andrew, right? My cousin Andrew?”

Neil bristles. “Unlike you, I do actually try to identify a person before I kiss them.”

Nicky ignores this dig, and says, “so that is what you were doing? I didn’t hallucinate that?”

Neil gives him a look, and tries to walk back to the recording studio, but Nicky catches him by both elbows.

“No, no, no, no, I’m nowhere near done with this, oh my god.”

“I am.”

“Neil,” Nicky moans.

“Practice, now,” Neil says, dragging him back with him.

“Then talk later, please, Neil, take pity on me.”

He ignores him, and everyone else, until he’s behind the piano.

He starts playing the sequence, pitch perfect this time, and one by one, the ensemble climbs in behind him.

If he doesn’t look up at them, it’s like nothing even happened. Andrew’s drums are full of space and Nicky’s guitar is urgent where Aaron’s is steady. Kevin’s bass is thick and sweet as syrup, and suddenly they’re good again.

In the shuffle of coming and going, he had completely forgotten to count himself in.

Before Monday can start, Neil tries to stop time.

He wanders the house in the twilight, hoping that the silence will somehow keep him preserved in place.

The oven clock blinks 5:00 am for what seems like a very long time. The humidifier in Kevin’s room makes a noise like wheels on asphalt, that silky, endless grind.

As always, Neil doesn’t have a destination. He pauses drowsily at the kitchen window and looks at the grey stucco of the house next door. He goes downstairs, pauses on the second to last stair, then walks back up again. He sits on the porch steps for a while, but it feels so exposed that he panics, fumbling loudly with the screen door on his way back inside.

He almost cries in the bathroom mirror, and then he pinches his fingers over his eyes until it hurts.

He nudges the door to Andrew’s bedroom open, but he’s soundly asleep for once, and it makes him want to cry again, to think of waking him. He eases the door closed.

“Hey,” Nicky says gently. Neil looks up, hand still curled around Andrew’s doorknob.

“What do you want?” he whispers.

Nicky looks sad. “Just checking on you. I heard you moving around up here.”

“How did you know it was me?”

Nicky smiles, crossing his arms and leaning sleepily up against the wall. “I listen pretty good, you know? It’s what makes me so invaluable.”

“Right,” Neil says. Then stronger, meaning it, “right.” He swallows. “Look, Nicky, I don’t really want to talk about—“

“It’s fine,” Nicky says, waving him off. He grins. “You’ll tell me everything eventually. They always do.”

Eventually. Neil tries to smile, or roll his eyes, or get angry, but he feels like he can’t move. If Nicky isn’t actively telling a joke he always looks like he’s about to, or like maybe he just did and you didn’t get it. It feels incongruous and cruel to do anything but laugh.

“Come sit with me,” Nicky says, nodding towards the living room. “We’ve got time.”

Neil peers around the dividing wall into the kitchen as they pass. 5:15, the oven reports. They settle into their usual spots on the couch and love seat, predictable as ghosts. Cold air presses in through the cracked window and makes the old leather crunch when he moves.

“Are you nervous?”

Neil looks back at him, distracted. “About what?”

“Saturday.”

Neil’s heart jerks, confused, before he remembers the concert. He feels like he’s been staring so hard at the details of the frame that he forgot the painting inside it.

“I don’t really get stage fright,” Neil says honestly.

“I know,” Nicky says. He’s smiling wryly, chin propped up on his knee. “You’re fearless. It’s obnoxious.”

“I’m not fearless. I just think it’s a waste of time to worry about the things I actually like to do.” “Sage wisdom,” Nicky snorts. “Trying to put Betsy out of a job?”

Neil shrugs. “I probably could.”

“Pff,” Nicky says. “I’m not sure you’re well-adjusted enough for that.”

“It’s a pseudo-science anyway,” Neil says.

“Uh-huh,” Nicky says, amused. His smile sags a little, and he looks away. “Um. I know I wasn’t going to make you talk about it, but—“

“Nicky,” Neil warns. “You didn’t even last five minutes.”

“I know, I know, I’m a gossip, whatever. Just tell me you’re not jerking him around, okay? Tell me it’s serious. I know it doesn’t seem like it, but I pretty much raised that rascal.”

“It’s not serious,” Neil says, confused. “It’s not really anything. It’s just—a distraction. For both of us.”

“Neil, come on.”

“What?”

Nicky’s looking at him with wide-open disbelief, and Neil’s skin crawls.

“It’s obviously something.”

“It’s not,” Neil argues. He thinks of Andrew, hot against him, saying I don’t need this, neither should you. “I know exactly where we stand.”

“Really, because it seems like maybe you don’t, at all. There’s no fucking way this means nothing to him. I think there’s been something about you from the very beginning. He only writes lyrics about shit that’s like, in his bloodstream—“

Neil shivers, annoyed. “We don’t have feelings for each other just because you want us to. We have a deal. He’s counting on me not to get attached.”

Nicky studies him appraisingly. “Did he tell you that?”

“Yes,” Neil says, trying not to dwell on it. “That’s what I’ve been saying.”

“Okay, fine,” Nicky says. “Believe what you want.” He pushes himself to the edge of the couch, and reaches out to pat Neil’s cheek. “Just be careful with each other, okay?”

“Andrew doesn’t need to be coddled.”

Nicky smiles, sideways. “Sure he does.” He stands, steadying himself on Neil’s shoulder. “We all deserve a little coddling, I think. Why not? It’s better than getting hurt for no reason.” He rounds the couch and makes his way over to the stairs to the basement. “I’ll try not to bring it up again unless you fuck up in a big way, okay?”

“Okay,” Neil agrees, relieved.

Nicky smiles. “Go back to sleep.” He nods back to the place where he found Neil skulking in the hall. “Believe me, waking Andrew up is more trouble than it’s worth.”

Neil shrugs. “I’ve done it before.”

Nicky wrinkles his nose a little, and scoffs, “I bet you have.” He doesn’t elaborate, and Neil narrows his eyes at him until he slinks back down the stairs towards his room.

He knows Nicky is wrong about this. Andrew agreed to stop writing about him, and Neil agreed to stop pinning his hopes on him in return. He would know, if Andrew wanted more from him. He thinks—no, he would know.

He sits in the chilly little sitting room, listening to that grumbling humidifier and watching the dark TV screen reflect the outside lights. Every corner of this place is familiar. It hurts to think of how much time he’s spent here, letting himself in, drinking and singing and kissing Andrew’s tired morning mouth. 5:30, the oven clock whispers.

He puts his hand to a crease in the couch, and thinks, hopeless, I want to stay.

Some nights, Kevin drags him back into the studio after practice. He forces him through vocal gymnastics and ear training until he can sing all of their songs a cappella and unwavering.

Kevin walks him through the empty halls with such purpose, like he’s fighting through a crowd that isn’t there. Neil wonders what it would be like, to have that self-importance baked into you. To feel like you’ve earned it.

He watches the arc of Kevin’s back as he tinkers with wires. As always, in the final days of the countdown, Neil wants absently to be somewhere else.

Of course he loves these sessions, honing his skill with Kevin, and he enjoys pacing through Palmetto when it’s a perfect empty labyrinth. But he doesn’t want to go through the motions of the same fight, and he doesn’t want to think about what they’re practicing for anymore, a tour that he is unlikely to finish.

He swallows stale bottled water and plonks his phone up on the piano where he won’t be tempted to check it.

“Are we ready?” Kevin asks. Neil shrugs. “Let’s try the harmonies in big blue.” Affectionately nicknamed by Nicky for its bluesy influence, a sound so rich and dark that it’s almost purple.

“Can we workshop the repeat? I’m still not sure what we’re doing with dynamics, there.”

“Not yet,” Kevin sniffs. “We need everyone here for that.”

“But I’m good on everything else,” Neil says.

“I decide when you’re good,” Kevin says, adjusting Neil’s microphone in front of him, like he’s a child who can’t fasten his own bib.

He can’t help it, his fists curl. “Right. Remind me why you get that privilege, again?”

“Neil,” Kevin says. “We don’t have time for this conversation.”

“For once we agree,” Neil says icily.

“I was one half of Evermore, remember? We weren’t the most popular duo in America because we wasted time bickering. We were an organization in every sense of the word. We each had our tasks and we completed them.”

“Do you think that’s what makes a good band?” Neil asks.

Kevin falters. “I—not anymore, no.”

“We’re better than Evermore because we fight. For everything.”

“We’re not better than Evermore,” Kevin scoffs.

“That depends on how you define better,” Neil says. Kevin looks away. He can’t seem to hold eye contact; his face always splinters under the heft of the other person’s gaze, like thin ice underfoot.

“I try not to think about before.”

“Yeah,” Neil says, feeling his stomach sink. “Yeah, I understand that.”

“I—“ Kevin starts, twisting the plug at the root of his bass, rocking back so he’s sitting on the nearest amp. “I know you’re hiding—something. From us.”

Neil nods. “Okay.”

“And it’s weird because, there’s a lot of shitty stuff about you that you don’t bother to hide.”

Neil snorts, feeling unusually lenient with Kevin, almost enjoying his sharp mouth.

“So I’m kind of thinking… whatever it is must be really bad.”

“Interesting theory.”

“Are you denying it?”

“I can’t be bothered to lie to you, Kevin. Most of what I say goes over your head anyway.”

“Fuck you,” Kevin says, but he’s kind of smiling.

“All you need to know is that I’m committed to Ausreißer. I will be until the very end. Will you keep practicing with me until then?”

“Yeah,” Kevin says, reaching out and knocking awkwardly on top of the piano. “Every night.”

Neil has never had trouble telling the twins apart. The way they hold themselves is entirely different; Aaron’s shoulders are always at a contrary angle while Andrew’s are straight across. Aaron is sour where Andrew is bitter—there’s a crucial difference there. The armbands help, but he likes to think he could tell them apart in a snowstorm, bundled up across the street.

He also has disdain for Aaron where he has respect for Andrew, and he hasn’t teased those feelings completely apart yet.

When he walks out of the record shop on main street and sees Aaron walking with an unfamiliar woman, he stops short. His fingers bunch in the plastic handle of the bag swinging from one hand.

“I thought you had an appointment with Dobson,” he calls. Aaron looks around guiltily, and his arm shrivels away from the woman’s shoulders. “And unless this is her...”

“Neil,” he says stiffly. “This is Katelyn.”

She waves cheerfully. Neil ignores her. “Is there a reason you’re lying to the team?”

Aaron rolls his eyes, and makes a show of relaxing back into Katelyn’s side. “It’s none of your business, at all, as usual.” He tries to steer them past Neil on the sidewalk, but Neil sidesteps back into their way.

“Andrew doesn’t tend to like outsiders.”

“Do you honestly think I’ve forgotten that?” Aaron hisses. He seems embarrassed, and Neil can see his hand consciously gentling on Katelyn’s shoulder. “Can you—“ he looks at her apologetically. “Just give us a second, okay?”

“Of course,” she says sweetly. “Wave me over if you need extraction,” she says, quieter, and he smiles secretly back at her. Neil frowns as Aaron kisses her on the temple, and ushers Neil back under the awning next to the record shop.

“I know what Andrew’s opinions are on this, probably better than you do,” he starts.

“So why are you still doing it?” Neil asks.

“Why are you fucking my brother?” Aaron returns. His irises look exactly like Andrew’s do when he’s frustrated, more like an absence of colour than anything else. Neil shivers, though the noonday heat is still tense in the air.

“How is that relevant?”

“So you are then.”

Neil squints at him. “Just tell me what to think about this so I can stop talking to you.”

“Nice,” Aaron says sarcastically. “Don’t act like you’re above this. You’re breaking the rules just as badly as we are.”

“What rules am I breaking, exactly?”

Aaron looks nervously back at Katelyn. “You should’ve spoken to Andrew about this, not me.”

“Believe me, I would rather be talking to him, but you’re the one who just showed up here with a secret.”

“Look, just pretend you never saw us. I’ll pretend your obsession with my brother isn’t physically repugnant to me.”

“I don’t have time for pretending,” Neil snaps. A passing bicyclist startles at his raised voice, and one pedal briefly spins out. “I don’t have time for whatever is keeping you and Andrew apart.”

Aaron scrutinizes him for a long moment. There’s something surprisingly sharp about his expression. “Whatever problems we have were here long before you got here, and they’ll be here after you’re gone.”

“You’re right,” Neil says. He can feel the frustration bleeding out from his face, wetting his collar, flooding the street. “What a waste.”

He tugs his shopping bag up around his wrist like a bracelet and sets off in the opposite direction from the one Aaron had been walking in.

Later, when he’s listening to Ausreißer’s first studio album on a borrowed CD-player, he can’t stop thinking of the family they have so clearly always been.

Their sound was chaotic, angrier than it is with Neil. Andrew’s lyrics are about missing something you’ve never had, and Neil emphatically thinks yes, without really understanding why it resonates with him.

Nicky and Aaron and Andrew had only found each other six or seven years ago by Neil’s count. They had been slung together with Kevin from circumstances that looked entirely incompatible on paper, but harmonized when they were spoken aloud.

They hurled things at each other like pottery that shattered into colour and powder; they demolished their glass houses and stood hand in hand in the rubble; they flattened all of that gravel into smooth open road.

Neil knows they play better, now that the music is all pointed in the same direction, but there’s something about this snapshot of who they were that’s so compelling. Teenagers who didn’t know they were all feeling the same terrible things. Even though they sing about hollowness and regret, it’s so obvious from the outside that they weren’t alone at all.

Neil clutches the jewel CD case to his chest, lying in the dark, and wonders if the five of them look like that now, always at odds but completely in tune.

They have brunch at the Foxes dorm on Thursday.

Neil has long been charmed by the cream and sunshine corners of their house, the huge monstera plant in the kitchen, the teacups full of wrapped candies on every surface, the orange living room wall with a couple of framed music awards hanging above the couch.

It’s lived-in in a completely different way from the monsters’ strange storm-cloud pocket in suburbia.

Wymack and Abby have been invited to keep the peace. It’s interesting to see the way everyone from Foxes relaxes with them posted at the dining room table, while everyone from Ausreißer get the slightest bit stiffer, possibly out of some warped kind of respect.

Almost nothing happens, all morning. It’s a tableau so appealing that it’s almost ugly. It already feels like a memory.

Neil watches Renee and Nicky setting the table, and Matt threatening teasingly to pour coffee in Kevin’s lap. Wymack’s voice when he calls the rest of them to the table is commanding in a way that startles Neil less than it used to. Dan jumps when Neil does though, and they share a look.

“He has such a dad voice, it’s ridiculous.”

“Yeah,” Neil says, pretending to understand.

“No one even think about leaving this table without a good reason,” Wymack says. “Anyone bringing animosity to breakfast gets a boot in the ass.”

“You promise?” Nicky says.

“Don’t be gross,” Aaron says. Allison laughs. They tuck into french toast and peaches and whipped cream from a can. Matt made the bacon too crispy, and even the smell of it is nauseating.

“Neil, are you freaking out yet?” Matt asks.

“What? Why?” Neil asks. He can feel Andrew peering at the side of his face for a fraction of a moment.

Matt’s smile quirks, turning on its side. “Big concert on Saturday? Live debut of your very own songs? Ringing any bells?”

“A few,” Neil says awkwardly. “I’m in denial.”

“Mm, he is,” Nicky says around a mouthful of fruit. “About so many things.” He’d definitely smoked a little weed bright and early this morning, and it’s made his lips dangerously loose.

Neil glares at him, but Dan’s focus is already cranked in tight. She puts down her knife. “Like?” she asks.

Neil shrugs.

“What, is it a sex thing?” Allison asks.

“Uh-uh,” Wymack says. “Vetoed.”

“You can’t veto conversational topics in our house,” Dan argues.

“I can, I am, change the subject.”

“Boring.”

“How’s the mixing on the collab going?” Kevin asks, reaching across half of the table to get at the orange juice.

“Done,” Matt says proudly. “Chopped and screwed. Signed, sealed, delivered, etc.”

“Collab?” Abby asks, interested.

“Neil’s featuring on a Foxes track,” Renee says, smiling around her napkin.

“We’re set to drop it on Monday,” Allison adds.

He wonders if they’ll still release it, once he’s gone missing. He thinks again of his echo, the proof of his relationships with all of these people, fossilized in mp3 files and kicked around the radio forever.

“That’s exciting,” Abby says. “Kind of outside your rocker comfort zone though, isn’t it Neil?”

“My ‘comfort zone’ is pretty narrow,” Neil says flatly. “But music is music.”

“I suppose so,” she says, smiling sheepishly. “It’s not like you don’t have the voice for it.”

“And anyway, genre’s a beautiful thing,” Dan says twirling a fork full of pineapple in the air. “It’s made to be fucked with.”

Matt raises his glass in mock toast. “Here here.”

“I still haven’t heard this song,” Kevin complains.

“You haven’t earned it,” Allison says.

“Play it for him,” Neil hears himself say. He can’t catch the thought before it flutters out of him. They all look at him. “I want to hear what he thinks,” he admits.

He half looks at Andrew, who is slouched back in his seat, drowning his french toast in syrup and jam. Neil suspects that he’s the sort of person who would put ice cream on breakfast foods.

Neil can see a little moth-eaten hole in the shoulder of his t-shirt. There are mismatched seat cushions tied to the dining room chairs, and Andrew’s is orange and blue gingham.

“Play it, play it,” Nicky says.

“Okay, fine, but only because Neil actually asked,” Dan says.

Allison hums. “Neil’s superpower. Asking nicely.” He looks up at her, but she’s looking past him.

Dan starts to stand, but Renee scoots back from the table and waves her away. “I can pull it up for you,” she says. “I was just playing it while I made breakfast.”

There’s a little set-up in the far corner of the room, a couple of monitors and speakers, a keyboard, a microphone. Renee tugs her skirt primly underneath her and sits in the rolling chair, sliding home at the desk.

Neil watches her click through a few files and toggle the volume controls. The longer it takes her, the more his hands start to shake. He hides them under the tablecloth. Andrew’s knee presses against his, hard.

“Ready?”

Neil almost shakes his head.

“Just don’t offer unsolicited critiques,” Dan says. “It’s a done deal, no more tweaking allowed.”

“Yeah, Kevin,” Matt says pointedly. “If you comment on the timbre or whatever the fuck, you’re uninvited to brunch.”

“Please, he’d love that,” Nicky jokes. “He loves insulting people and hates social obligations.” He scruffs the top of Kevin’s head teasingly but his hand gets slapped away.

“Just hit play,” Wymack commands. Renee does.

The house floods with music.

kidnapped by two pomegranate halves

the seeds won’t let me go

walked thigh-deep in the ocean

I’ve never been this slow

I have to die tomorrow

but for a minute I could grow

here in your garden.

don’t don’t watch me go

it’s so much worse if you know

I really thought I was home

and the lights stay on

but there’s no more show

and don’t watch me go

it stays a yes if I don’t say no

it was dangerous to fly so low

But worth it not to be alone.

Neil sits through it, embarrassed and relieved at once. It’s like a love letter being passed around the room to be read.

He knows most of them will listen only to the tune at first, the same way he knows that Andrew is memorizing the lyrics as they are sung.

Everyone in Foxes had assumed that he was writing about something that had long since happened, so he managed to dodge their concern. They’d been excited, contributing, unspooling then re-spooling his rhyme scheme so it was tighter, vacuum sealing his ideas to the shapes of the notes.

And the music is exactly right, dark and rolling with the lushness of a thunderstorm.

Neil and Dan sing together, caught up in these tricky, wonky harmonies that almost grate but resolve sweet—like the burn and flush of hard liquor. Matt, not usually one to sing, is a counterpoint in the bass below them.

The guitar gallops next to the bass, pinched together with layers of electronic effects. Renee’s muted violin comes in halfway through, building up to a crescendo, making everything feel urgent and serious, and then the tension breaks — the instruments all drop out, but Neil is singing so hard that he’s almost shouting, Dan’s voice pinned up underneath him, the rest of them humming, like a machine, or like a mother soothing her child to sleep.

“Oh man,” Nicky whispers.

It’s not pop, but it’s not rock either. It’s an outlier on the album that Foxes put together and it’s meant to be that way, more of a marathon of sounds and feelings than a formulaic piece of music. It’s a risk, they keep telling him. Their audience might not ‘get it’.

He loves it in the particular way that you love the limb that’s about to be amputated. You have it, and you’ve always had it, and you won’t have it again.

Nicky leans over and fishes his hand out from under the table to be held. “You’ve outdone yourself, Neil Josten.”

“I haven’t heard you sing like that,” Kevin admits, nose in his drink to hide the compliment.

“You have,” Neil argues.

“He has,” Aaron agrees, unexpectedly. “You’re just too busy admiring your own playing to notice.”

Nicky squeezes his fingers. “Those lyrics—“

“Okay, give us compliments now,” Allison says.

“Well it goes without saying,” Nicky starts, but he says it anyway, lauding the production, Allison’s warm alto, Renee’s switch from drums and synth to violin, and the a cappella section in the heart of it all.

Andrew is silent next to Neil, but he is pulling a loose thread from his cloth napkin so it contorts around one tense point.

He’s never heard the conversation get so animated between these two groups, so much so that it kind of doesn’t feel like two separate groups at all.

At some point, Kevin says, “maybe we should all try working on a track, if it gets these kinds of results.”

“Seriously?” Matt asks.

“I’m not moderating that recording session,” Wymack says, looking exhausted at the thought of it.

“We can all take care of ourselves, it’ll be fine,” Dan says flippantly, and Neil thinks, yeah, of course.

They’ll be fine.

“Are you planning on going somewhere?” Andrew asks.

Neil looks up from his notebook. He’s been sitting at the kitchen table in his sweatpants while the rest of the band flits around the house collecting shoes and jackets and dugouts full of stale weed. The doors keep opening and closing, but he thought they’d finally left for Eden’s Twilight.

Andrew stares him down, backlit from the hall. He has the sudden thought that he can’t remember the last time he saw Andrew have a drink.

“I told you,” Neil says, “I don’t want to go to a club the night before our concert.”

“Don’t watch me go / it’s so much worse if you know,” Andrew recites. “I want to know where you think you’re going.”

Neil’s eyes flit towards the foyer. “Are they just waiting in the car for you?”

“I asked you a question.” His voice is dangerously close to colour.

“I don’t know,” he admits. “I don’t know what’s going to happen, or who’s going to come for me, but someone will, and I’m worried that it will end badly for more than just me.”

“Worried enough to write a song about it.”

A moment passes between them in which they both think of what else is important enough to write songs about.

“I never expected to be here forever,” Neil says.

“You should’ve thought of that before you signed with us,” he says. Neil shrugs, miserable. He had thought about it, and he’d decided they were worth every feverish moment of risk. “I’ve told you I won’t allow the Moriyamas to get to you,” Andrew continues.

“I don’t think you should promise me that.”

“It’s part of the deal.”

“Maybe we shouldn’t have a deal anymore,” Neil says, too loud. Andrew stares at him. “Maybe we should call it off.”

“You’re a special kind of suicidal,” Andrew says. “There’s no reason for you to let them win before they have even come.”

“I need to fight for myself,” Neil admits. “I need you with me, and behind me, but I can’t keep holding you in front of me.” Andrew stands perfectly still, a muscle straining in his jaw. “Let me go.”

“I think you’re making a mistake.”

Neil almost laughs. “For once, I’m not. There are people in my life that I want to protect. So I’m going to do that.”

Andrew steps just barely closer. “You can’t change your mind.”

“I won’t.”

“Okay,” Andrew says simply.

“Thank you,” Neil says, leaning back in his chair, wrung out with relief.

Andrew walks all the way up to him, and Neil’s loose neck tips back to keep him in view.

A hand slips up to hold the back of his head, a tight, familiar grip.

“Don’t make me regret trusting you.”

In a moment of weakness, Neil wets his lips and says, “you trust me?” His heart is so far up his throat that he imagines he can feel his molars digging into it when he talks. His hand finds the bottom of Andrew’s sweater and tangles in the hem.

Andrew winces, spectacularly, an entire chain reaction of eyebrows and lashes and wrinkled nose. He reaches down and pulls his hand away, but it takes him too long to let go of Neil’s flexed fingers.

For days afterwards, Neil will replay this suspended moment, in which they are connected at the hand, and Andrew can’t bring himself to deny that he trusts him.

He gets the last text in the countdown halfway through final rehearsal at the venue, but he doesn’t let himself dwell on it. There’s no follow-up, no phone call, no shadow in the window. He turns his phone off.

The more day that they manage to chew up and put behind them, the more the anticipation turns into confusion, and then droops and dissolves completely. They have a show to put on, and he is tired of being threatened.

They’re playing the same auditorium in Colombia where Neil saw his first Foxes show, the same place where he received the first text in the countdown. Backstage is exactly as he remembers it, cooler and darker than the rest of the building, lined with equipment and snaked with wires. This time though, their custom Ausreißer drum-kit is centre stage, and their set-up is as organized as a well-laid table.

He keeps making grinning eye contact with Nicky and remembering that under any other circumstances, he would be hyper-charged with good adrenaline, a wind-up toy trembling to be let go.

He warms up so thoroughly that he could pour his voice straight through a sieve and nothing would catch.

The sound check is a bit bumpy, and it’s always jarring to be mid-song and get the signal to stop. He never knows how much he should be performing, in practice.

Eventually, the curtain is dropped, and the five of them are corralled into the dressing room at the very end of a ropey backstage hallway. Neil sits cross-legged on a worn leather couch and lets Nicky apply make-up to his face. He often did his own before he joined the band, when he was concerned with sculpting his face and covering scars, but Nicky’s toolkit is entirely different — eyeliner and smoke.

Kevin shrugs on his custom jacket, fitted, leather. He’s warming up under his breath, always. Aaron’s been ready since lunch, and he sits with his combat boots dangling over the arm of a chair and a book balanced on his knees. Neil’s watching though, and he can see Aaron running through fingerings with his left hand. Andrew isn’t in the room, which means he’s smoking somewhere.

They’ve done so many shows, but it feels like a different art now, somehow. He thinks of the words that Andrew has written for him, the chord progressions that Kevin fed him every night until he spoke in notes instead of words. He thinks of the moment before you perform, when the crowd is a runway and you are a plane.

For the first time all week, he wants time to move faster.

______

The show grins and spits in the crowd’s faces.

It’s filthy and fast-paced and polished, and the sound and energy could prop Neil up even if his body gave out.

They’re sold out, and the audience never stops arcing up to try and touch them; all he can see is a forest of arms forever and ever.

He loses his mind a little bit, somewhere between their opener and their eighth song. His hair works itself out of the stubby little ponytail that he’s knotted it into, and his eyeliner melts off under the stage lights. Kevin does some improv so excellent that Neil holds his microphone up to the bass, and feedback screams like a sixth band member. Andrew hammers the snares so hard at the end of their third song that the momentum forces him up out of his seat.

They take a mid-show break, and a nervous employee tells them that the crowd is getting out of hand. Nicky replies that they’ve obviously never been to an Ausreißer show before. Kevin tells them to call in more security. Neil thinks, how did he ever think that Riko could get him here, through this thicket of fans?

The second half of their set is somehow even rowdier; songs devolve into sheer noise, and Neil has to grab at his ear piece and concentrate to stay on pitch. They’ve organized posters and chants, and action ripples constantly through the venue.

His anxiety spikes, somewhere under the thrill of performing. He looks back from the keyboard towards Andrew, who raises his chin at him. There’s a noise like something shattering, at the back of the hall. Something feels wrong.

Nicky’s laughing, unaware, spritzing a beer into the audience, and Aaron is playing fuller chords to make up for his absence. Kevin takes the melody in this one, and he’s holding the mic tenderly with both hands.

Finally, they play the song Neil wrote, and he’s half in and half out of the euphoria of it. He’s coasting from uneasy to sickly, but it’s the biggest crowd they’ve ever played, and the music is snapping together so perfectly. It might be better than their studio version. It’s the most frightening thing he’s ever done.

They careen through their final songs, to raucous applause.

Backstage is an ice-cold haven, and Neil droops gratefully into its open arms, accepting a water bottle and holding the back of his hand to his feverish forehead.

He blinks hard in the new darkness, listening, detached, to their fans begging for an encore.

They’re in a loose circle, debauched and exhausted. There’s no point in trying to talk through the noise, so they breathe together, and nod, and gather themselves back up.

Four fifths of them are back on stage in a riptide of joy that sounds painful, when a stage-hand gestures violently for Neil’s attention.

He jogs up and hands him an open flip phone. Neil looks down at it, then back into the person’s nervous face.

“It’s for you,” they mouth.

A shiver rakes viciously down his back. He takes the phone in one frozen hand.

There’s a text that reads:

Come find me in your dressing room, Junior.

And then,

You really should have answered my calls. Too late now.

He can’t see. His whole world falls on its side. He drops the phone. He can’t hear the noise it should make when it connects with the floor, like maybe physics isn’t working, and he thinks--I’m dreaming.

He manages to look out at the stage, where it feels like everyone in the world is looking expectantly at him. He looks back towards their dressing room.

For a moment, it’s hilarious. He was safe and invisible, and then he clambered up on stage and sang himself raw for months. He was constantly recorded, and photographed, and trackable.

He wonders if he could’ve even performed like he does, without the fear at his back, if part of him was using the band as another means of running away. He wonders why they let him live this long, what kind of mercy could possibly live inside his father.

He walks unsteadily towards the dressing room, ears ringing. His legs don’t belong to him. He tells the stage-hand—something. To vamp, or excuse him. He doesn’t even know.

He’s been pacing this hallway all day, he knows it creaks and moves with you, but the sound is all swallowed now.

He wrings the doorknob, and presses inward, expecting the barrel of a gun, expecting some impossible amalgamation of Riko and Nathan and all of their muscle combined.

The dressing room looks the same way they left it.

He scans the table full of their belongings, and the wall of mirrors. His breath is so loud in the stillness of the room. He thinks wildly that it was all a cruel prank, or a misunderstanding.

And then he sees her grinning, cheshire reflection in the dark. He whips around.

“Lola,” he chokes.

“Oh, good. You do remember me,” she says. There’s a gun in her hand with a silencer screwed into the barrel, and she’s holding it casually at attention, the same way one might hold a lazy cigarette.

“You can’t be here,” he says.

“I very nearly wasn’t,” she says. “I didn’t have a backstage pass. I can’t decide if you’re an idiot, for choosing to stand directly in the public eye, or if you were counting on your position affording you extra… protection.” She shifts, and Neil can see now that there’s a corpse at her feet. She nudges it with her shoe. “Anyone you know?”

He nearly throws up. His body roils with terror and fury, and his voice is thick when he says, “you’d better hope not, for your sake.”

She laughs, delighted. “Have you decided to fight back? Your father will be so pleased.” She stands up. “Hate to cut this short, but we’ve got places to be, rockstar.”

He shakes his head. “You can’t possibly think that you can get me out of here that easily. My band is literally waiting on stage for me.”

“That’s why you’re going to finish your little set, and then you’re going to come find me in the parking lot. Oh, and this guard was a dud,” she says, nodding at the crumpled body that Neil can see now is one of the hired security guards who had been controlling the crowd. “So I hired you some specialists.”

He shakes his head again, thoughts racing. “They won’t just let me go.”

“I think they will, with some persuading,” she says.

“Don’t touch them.”

Lola wiggles the gun teasingly against his chin. “Don’t make me.” She moves past him, trailing her nails along his shoulder as she goes. When she opens the door, he can see the looming figures of Jackson Plank and Romero Malcolm, decked out in all black. The thrill of music and cheering bursts back into his ears. He’d almost forgotten where he was.

Lola tucks her hair behind her ear and her gun into her waistband. She smiles at him, and he has the sick feeling that the whole time he’d been thinking of the daily texts as the dwindling digits on a time bomb, Lola had been relishing in every number.

“See you soon, Junior.”

#man I hope this is coherent this is the longest story I've ever written and it's uhh hard to hold everything in my dome #aftg #the foxhole court #andreil #rockband au #tfc fanfic #mine #long post

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dukereviewsmovies · 5 years

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Duke Reviews: Happy Death Day 2U

Hi Everyone, I'm Andrew Leduc And Welcome To Duke Reviews Where We're Continuing Our First Annual October Monsterween...

Last Week, We Talked About The First Happy Death Day Movie Now We Move Onto The Sequel, Happy Death Day 2U...

Taking Place After The First Film's Ending, This Film Sees Tree Gelbman Being Transported To Another Dimension, Where She Must Relive A Different Version Of The Same Day Repeatedly With A New Killer On The Loose While She Attempts To Go Home, Will She Succeed?

Let's Find Out As We Watch Happy Death Day 2U...

The Film Starts With Ryan (Carter's Roommate) Inside Of His Car Being Woken Up By Someone's La Bamba Car Horn As He Walks To The Campus To The Building Where His Room Is But Unfortunately He Can't Stay As Carter Is Making Out With Tree (Basically The Last Scene Of The Last Movie)...

Getting A Phone Call From One Of His Friends, Samar, He Tells Ryan To Come To Their Lab Now As Him And His Other Partner, Dre (Short For Andrea) Have Made A Discovery And That Is That Their Invention Known As The Sisyphus Quantum Cooling Reactor (Or Sissy For Short) Automatically Went Off At 12:01 AM Yesterday And They Have No Idea What Set It Off...

But As The 3 Try To Figure Out How It Happened, The Dean Of The College Marches In To That Their Project Is Suspended Due To The Rolling Blackouts And Broken Circuits And Bulbs That Have Been Throughout The Campus Also Because It Hasn't Been Making The Only Thing That The Dean Is Apparently Interested In...

After The Dean Storms Off, Ryan Gets A Picture On His Phone Of Him On The Couch, Looking Over To Where The Picture Was Taken, He Finds Nobody So He Decides To Go Outside In The Hopes Of Finding Whoever Did It But Instead Ryan Gets Another Message And Follows That To The Chem Lab...

There, Ryan Finds Nobody, But When He Checks The Supply Closet, He Discovers..

youtube

(Start At 0:59, End At 1:15)

Waking Up In The Same Morning Like Tree, Ryan Wakes Up In His Car And Does The Same Stuff He Did As Before Only When He Reaches His And Carter's Room, He Tells Carter That He's Feeling A Sense Of Deja Vu And That The Day Reset When A Guy In A Baby Mask Killed Him....

Despite Knowing It To Be Impossible As Lori Is Dead And That Toomes Is Dead (But I Know That Fact To Be Impossible As Tree Killed Toomes In The Perfect Timeline But When She Ate The Cupcake The Day Reset Hence Toomes Can't Be Dead) Tree Tells Ryan Her Story Through A Recap Of The First Film...

Grabbing A Bat, Tree Tells Ryan To Show Her Where He Saw The Killer To Which He Takes Her To The Scene Only To Find Nothing, But When Ryan Hears A Noise, He Ends Up Whacking Samar In The Head When He Thinks That He's The Killer When He Sees A Baby Mask On Him...

Saying That He Found The Mask In The Hallway, Samar And Dre Leave When The Dean Of The College Marches In To Tell Ryan Again That The Project Is Terminated, Asking To See This Project, Ryan Shows Tree And Carter Sissy...

Telling Them That It Was Made To Prove That Time Can Be Slowed Down On A Molecular Level, Ryan Shows Tree And Carter The Data And Tells Them That It Went Off Yesterday At 12:01 AM, Which Makes Tree Realize That Ryan Started The Time Loop...

Despite Knowing That's Not What Sissy Was Made To Do Samar And Dre See This As A Discovery Of What It Actually Can Do And That Maybe It Was An Unintended Reaction, With Tree Telling Them That They Need To Figure Out How To Close The Loop, Ryan Tells Her That They Have No Idea How As It Fired On It's Own...

Interrupted By Danielle, She Asks Tree Where She Was During Their Meeting As Since Lori's Death Their Sorority On Red Alert And Danielle Worries About How They'll Attract People With An Attempted Murder On Their Hands, After Meeting Samar, Danielle Walks Off...

With Ryan Not Wanting To Die, Carter Suggests The Perfect Place To Hide Which Is The College's Sports Arena...

(Sarcastically) Yeah, Good Choice, Carter, Perfect Place To Hide...NOT!

While At The Game, Tree Spots Tim, Who Took Her Advice Of Finding Himself A Piece Of Man Ass (Even Though It Happened In The Same Timeline Where Toomes Died) She Also Recieves A Picture Of Her And Her Mom On Her Cellphone Which Makes Her Wonder If All The Events Of The Last Movie Were For Nothing

But With Carter Telling Her That Even If It Was, It Wouldn't Mean Less, The 2 Of Them Kiss As Alarms Start Going Off...

With The Arena Being Evacuated, Ryan Is Confronted By The Killer Forcing Him To Run..

youtube

(Start At 0:43, End At 2:29)

Saved By Tree, They Decide To Unmask The Guy To Which They Discover That It's...Old Man Smithers, The Creepy Janitor! No, Just Kidding It's Actually Another Version Of Ryan...

I Know It's Weird, But Turns Out This Ryan Was Trying To Close The Loop But Somehow He Got Knocked Into This Dimension And That The Longer Him And Their Dimension's Ryan Exist In This Dimension The More Danger They'll Be In So. He Tells Tree And Carter That They Have To Kill Their Ryan...

But Not Wanting To Die, Their Ryan Ends Up Placing It In His Hands To Solve The Problem, So, He Activates Sissy To Try To Get Rid Of The Other Ryan, But Samar And Dre Enter Only To Be Followed By The Dean And 2 Security Guards, They Try To Stop Ryan But The Machine Activates With The Flower Duet Playing In The Background As We Fade To Black...

The Next Day, Tree Wakes Up In Carter's Room To Discover That She's Back In Her Time Loop...

youtube

(Start At 0:33, End At 2:51)

Arriving At The Sorority, Tree Notices That Something's Missing Which Leads Her To Realize That Danielle Didn't Confront Her About Who She Slept With But Moving Onto Lori, Tree Confronts Her About The Cupcake But She Tells Tree That There Isn't One As She Goes Off To Her Job As A Nurse...

This Gets Tree To Realize That Something's Not Right As She Takes Ryan And Carter To The Cafeteria To Explain Everything That Happened Up To Now. With Tree Wondering If There's 2 Of Her, Ryan Tells Her That That's Highly Unlikely As She's Probably Stuck In A Quantum Cyclic Dimesion, With Tree Here And The Tree Of This Dimension Trapped In Another Dimension Somewhere In The Multiverse...

Having No Idea What The Multiverse Is, Ryan Explains It To Tree...

And To Explain It To My Viewers, Here Is Family Guy's Own Little Genius, Stewie...

youtube

(Start At 0:15, End At 0:38)

Thank You, Stewie...

With Danielle Approaching, Tree Gets Ready To Face Her Wrath Only To Discover That Not Only Is She Somewhat Of A Nice Person Here But She's Carter's Girlfriend In This Universe...

Having Enough From Danielle, Tree Answers A Phone Call From Her Father To Remind Her About Their Birthday Lunch To Which She Tells Him That She'll Be There In A Little Bit After Which She Takes Off But Not Before Telling Ryan To Be At The Lab At 3:00 So They Can Fix This...

Going To The Luncheon With Her Father, He Tells The Waiter That Before They Order They're Waiting For One More Person, A Person That Will Change Tree's Perception On Everything....Her Mom....

Yep, Tree's Mom Is Alive In This Universe...

Happy About This Discovery, Tree Decides To Tell Ryan To Shut Off The Machine. With Carter Wondering Why The Change, All Tree Tells Him Is That Everything Is Different Here Before She Asks Carter About His Relationship With Danielle But He Figured That She Already Knew As They Live In The Same House...

Eventually Dropping The Subject, Tree's Sees This World As The Best Version Of Her Life As Her Mom's Alive And Lori Isn't Out To Kill Tree But After Seeing Gregory Benson Talking With His Wife, Tree Decides That She Needs Time To Herself To Figure Out What To Do...

Returning To The Sorority, Tree Looks At Her Phone All Day Only To See That None Of The Memories On It Are Hers, With Danielle Eventually Entering She Wonders What Time Tree Is Coming To The Party (Like In The Last Movie) But As Danielle Talks To Her, Tree Notices On Tv The News Report That Toomes Is In The Hospital, Meaning In This Universe He's Still Around...

Telling The Secretary To Call The Police, Tree Grabs An Axe So She Can Fight Toomes, She Discovers That Only The Police Officer Is There. Arresting Tree, The Officer Tells Her That Toomes Went Down To The OR With A Nurse But As The Officer Takes Tree Away, He Gets Killed By The Killer...

Making A Run For The Elevator, Tree Is Saved By Lori, Who Tells Her The Same Story That The Officer Did Meaning The Killer Is Not Toomes (Or Her For That Matter)

With The Power Out, Lori Bars The Elevator Open So Her And Tree Can Get Out, But As They Walk Through A Floor That's Under Construction, Lori Is Killed By The Killer Which Forces Tree To Run To The Stairs So She Go Up To The Rooftop Only To Fall Off Of It Like Wile E. Coyote...

With The Day Reset, Tree Gets Pants On So She Can Tell Ryan To Meet Her In The Lab In An Hour...

With An Hour Passing, Tree Tells Ryan That She Needs To Stay In This Dimension And Asks Him To Close The Loop, But Ryan Tells Tree That This Will Be A Trial And Error Situation Where They Have To Rule Out Every Variable In Order To Find The Correct Algorithm

But Samar Points Out That Even If They Do This, They'll Have No Record Of Their Progress Especially If They Have No Memory Of It Once The Loop Is Reset, With Tree Believing That She's Screwed, Carter Gets An Idea That Since Everything But Tree's Memory Resets, She May Have To Become A Living Record...

But Knowing That She's Not A Scientist, Tree Tells Them That It's A Bad Idea Especially If There's A Killer Who'll Be After Her Until The Loop Is Closed, This Leads Samar To Come Up With The Suggestion That Tree Just Kills Herself Before The Killer Does...

Tree Doesn't Like That Idea At First But Seeing That There's No Option, She Decides To Go With It...

And So, We See Everyone Working On Closing The Loop While Tree Spends Time With Her Parents And Spys On Danielle And Carter And Lori And Gregory While Also Resetting The Day By Electrocuting Herself, Poisoning Herself With Draino, Jumping Out Of An Airplane Without A Parachute, Getting Mulched In A Tree Mulcher (That Has A Back To The Future Reference) And Jumping Off Of The Belltower...

But All Throughout Those Kills She Has Stomach Pains And Faints Again, Landing Her In The Hospital Where Tree Meets This Universe's Gregory Benson, Who Has No Idea Who Tree Is But Is There To Tell Tree The Same Thing He Told Her The Last Time He Took Her X-Rays In The First Film...

Asking What Time It Is, Gregory Tells Tree That It's 9:30 To Which Tree Warns Him That Lori Is About To Die And He Needs To Stop Her From Going Down To The OR, Which It Appears Gregory Does As He Exits, But When Tree Gets Up, She Finds Lori's Dead Body On The Floor As Toomes, Dressed As The Killer Attacks Her...

youtube

(Start At 2:16, End At 2:40)

With The Day Reset, Tree Goes To The Lab To Give Carter, Ryan And His Friends All The Failed Algorithms, To Which They Realize That There's Only One Left And It Works...

But With One Varient Closing The Loop And The Other Sending Tree Home And Closes That Loop, Which Means It's Decision Time And Tree Decides To Stay In That Dimension...

But As They Turn On The Machine It Shuts Off Because There's A Virus In The System And It'll Take Six Or Seven Hours To Fix The System, Telling Ryan That She's Living On Borrowed Time, Tree Walks Off...

Following Her, Carter Asks If Tree Is Sure About This Decision To Which She Tells Him That She Is, Despite The Fact That Lori Will Probably Die Tonight If Does Close The Loop Realizing This, Tree Tells Carter That She Can't Be Responsible For Everyone...

Telling Her That She's Sounding Selfish, Tree Tells Carter That To Not Make Her Choose Between Him And Her Mom Which Leads Tree To Tell Carter That In The Other Universe They Were Together...

Asking Tree What If She's Wrong? And That She's Meant To Go Back To The Other Universe Tree Tells Carter That She Can't Because She Doesn't Want To Lose Her This Leads Carter To Tell Her That She Already Did And That None Of This Is Real If She's Living Another Person's Life That Doesn't Belong To Her...

But She Has The Opportunity To Do Something Most People Only Dream About And That's Having The Chance To Say Goodbye. But Before Carter Can Say Anymore, Danielle Approaches Which Causes Tree To Leave...

Going To The Restaurant To See Her Parents, Tree Starts Feeling Chest Pains Again Which Causes Them To Worry About Her But Asking Them To Take Her Away From Campus, Saying That She'll Explain Later, They Do Just That...

Passing By A Power Plant In Their Car, Tree's Mom Talks With Her About Cinnamon Rolls At A Place Called Morrow Bay To Which Tree Doesn't Remember It As It's Wasn't Her That Did That...

Stopping At A Hotel For The Night, Tree Talks With Her Mom About If She Ever Wondered What Her Life Would Be Like She Couldn't Be With The One She Loves And If Being With That Person Meant Losing Someone Else To The Point That You Could Never See That Person Again.

To Which Tree's Mom Answers That That's Life, Sometimes The Past Pulls Us In One Direction And Sometimes The Future Calls Us Somewhere New. Wondering How She Knew That Her Dad Was The One, Tree's Mom Tells Tree That She Didn't She Just Took A Leap Of Faith...

Seeing The News Report From The Hospital, Tree Discovers That Not Just The Police Officer And Lori Are Dead But Carter Too, Tree Tries Calling Ryan To Tell Him To Stop Sissy But Unable To Reach Him, Tree Takes Off In Her Parents Car So She Can Go To The Power Plant To Kill Herself And Reset Time...

youtube

(Start At 0:53, End At 1:46)

With Time Reset, Tree Tells Carter That That Is The Last Time She's Dying For Him...

Later At The Lab, Everything Is Fixed For Tree To Go Home, But Before She Does She Decides To Do Some Things 1. Fix Everything With Lori And Telling Her To Break Up With Gregory, Saying That He's Not Worth It...

2. Talk With Danielle, However As Tree Goes To Do That She Finds Pleasuredome Nick In Her Bedroom Meaning That Danielle Is Not Little Miss Nice Girl As Everyone Believes And She's Cheating On Carter...

And Finally 3. Say Goodbye To Her Mom, With Tree Saying Everything She Has Always Wanted To Say To Her Mom, It Turns This Scene Into A Tender Moment And Honestly It Makes Me Cry...

Returning To The Lab, Ryan Turns On Sissy To Send Tree Home But They're Stopped By The Dean Who Pulls The Plug On Sissy And Wheels It Out Saying It Will Be In His Office Under Lock And Key...

With Carter Suggesting That Tree Just Reset The Day, Tree Tells Him That She's Getting Weaker To The Point That If She Resets The Day Again, She Won't Come Back, This Leaves Them With Only One Option And That's To Steal Sissy From The Dean's Office With Both Samar And Dre Believing That It's A Bad Idea, Both Carter And Ryan Tell Them That It's Their Fault All Of This Is Happening And It's Their Responsibility As Scientists To Fix It...

Coming Up With A Plan To Get Sissy Back In The Cafeteria, All They Need Now Is A Distraction To Distract The Dean, Luckily, Opportunity Calls Carter In The Form Of Danielle...

youtube

(Start At 0:06, End At 3:14)

Returning To The Lab With Less Than 3 Hours To Send Tree Back, It's Going To Be Incredibly Close, But Not Wanting To Leave Without Saving Lori, Tree Takes Off To Go Save Her...

Arriving At The Hospital, Tree Saves Lori From Toomes, Who She Shoots Before Her And Lori Run Into The Killer In The Hallway Where It's Revealed That It's Gregory...

youtube

(Start At 0:06, End At 3:33)

(Tree) Have A Little Bit Of Magnet Power, Morhertrucker!

With Gregory's Wife Alive For A Possible Sequel, Carter Saves Lori So Tree Can Get A Little Closure Before She's Taken Off To The OR...

But As All Of That Went On, The Dean Discovered That Ryan And Everyone Took Sissy From His Office And Is Trying To Break Down The Lab Door With 2 Security Guards...

But Even When The Dean Breaks In, He Doesn't Stop The Machine As Tree Says Goodbye To Carter Before The Machine Is Activated And Tree Is Sent Home, Ending Our Movie...

But It Doesn't End There As Tree And Her Friends Are Taken In By DARPA, Who Have Sissy In Their Possession But Have No Clue How To Run The Damn Thing To Which Tree Offers To Help However, There's One Left That They Need To Do Find A Test Subject And Luckily, Tree Knows Just Who To Get...

Looks Like Danielle Is Going To Go Through Hell In The Sequel (If There Is One) But That's Happy Death Day 2U And I Like It...

While Not As Good As The Original Film, I Did Enjoy The Story, Jessica Rothe's Performance And I Also Liked How They Answered Some Of The Questions From The Last Film In This Film But Sometimes It Gets Confusing (Despite Having A Special Feature On The Blu-Ray That Explains Everything) To The Point That Some Of The Information Gets Hard To Follow But Despite That I Deeply Enjoyed It And I Say See It...

Till Next Time, This Is Duke, Signing Off...

#happy death day 2u #happy death day #Jessica Rothe #blumhouse #universal studios #universal #movie review #movies #happy halloween

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spine-buster · 7 years

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Samhain in the City - 31 Little Wrestlings Fics Challenge

A/N: Halloween fic challenge based on the genius minds of @thewriterformerlytaggedas and @fan-fiction-galore! Thank you for including me, and I hope you all enjoy!

Please notice that there are some links included within the text to help you better visualize some things.

@wrestlewriting

@thegenericluchadora

@fan-fiction-galore

@anerdysouthernbelle

@spot-of-bother

@amaranthine-reign

@baleesi

@flnnbalor

@smuppies

@sarahmatthews7

@daintymissdevitt

@newjapan

@corey-renee

@running-ropes

@balorsomega

@karleedaniels27

@kazuchika

@ileana0300

@alexahood21

@imnobodiesbitch

@fembxt

@heelturn-timesten

@kaitlynwwefan

@50shadesofadamcolebaybay

@50shadesofkennyomega

@chasingeverybreakingwave

@thyestean-feast

@thecandicej

@devittsbalor

@sp00kylesley

@danahart

@sietefinns

@kaydee-kayyyy

@powerbombshell

@swedish-strong-style

@blondekel77

@irish-newzealand-idian-dutch

@nickysmum1909

@houndofjustice-imagines

@wwesmutdonedirtcheap

@wweximaginesxd

@indywrestlinglover-life

@mandi512

@kakakatey

@ourscratcheddreams

@sleeplessandcynical

It was a dark and stormy night…

Well, actually, not really. It was dark, sure, but stormy it was not. Not a drop of rain had fallen from the sky in three days – unusual for Edinburgh, especially in late October. It put everybody in the city in a good mood, just in time for Halloween and the Celtic festival of Samhain, celebrated every year.

Edinburgh was a medieval city at heart. It’s Old Town, a UNESCO World Heritage Site, was the stuff of wonders. Old buildings, winding streets, secret closes, the historic Grassmarket – it had it all. Tourists clogged sidewalks taking pictures of the old buildings; those who lived in the Old Town often couldn’t believe they were able to live in such historic structures. The Royal Mile, for all it’s ‘find-your-clan!’ shops and tourist buses, provided the Old Town with its link from Edinburgh Castle, perched upon an extinct volcano looking down on the city, to Holyrood Palace, the seat of the British Royal Family in Scotland.

But for Zadie, the posh New Town, also a UNESCO World Heritage Site, was the main attraction. Georgian architecture, streets (mostly) perfectly laid out in a grid, with parks and shops and cafes and anything you could ever want. Princes Street, with its view of the medieval Old Town and its buildings looking as if they were built on top of each other; Rose Street, the charming alley of pubs only known to locals (aka no tourists allowed); St. Andrew’s Square and Charlotte Square, the picture perfect parks to stop and have a picnic or get in some good reading on a sunny afternoon.

There were more neighbourhoods, of course, that Zadie adored: Stockbridge, Marchmont, Morningside in particular. Each had a uniqueness to it that couldn’t really be explained, only felt. Maybe she adored the city due to her background in architecture – also what she was currently getting a Master’s in at the University of Edinburgh. Maybe she adored it because it was unlike any other city she had visited. Maybe she adored it because of the people.

It was most definitely the architecture.

All of this was lost on Adam Cole, the man Zadie had been chatting up at her friend Hamish’s house party. He was cute, she was single, and Hamish knew him from work – best friends with a wrestler, he invited them all over to the house party last night after attending their show. Now, there were at least seven big burly men stuffed into a flat in Marchmont, along with the regular assortment of friends and acquaintances, drinking cheap wine and beer and eating hors d’oeuvres from Tesco.

“I’ve never been here before,” Adam confessed to her as they sat facing each other on the couch, Zadie’s legs tucked underneath her as she held her third glass of white wine.

“You’ve never been to Edinburgh before?”

“Nope.”

“But I thought you traveled around a lot for your job?”

“I do, but it’s mostly throughout America. Sometimes mainland Europe. When we come to the UK, we mostly stay down in England,” he explained. “Edinburgh was always one of those cities that we never got to. Sometimes we’d even plan to take a day trip, but we’d end up being so tired we wouldn’t go.”

Zadie furrowed her eyebrows. “Edinburgh is always worth it, even when you’re tired!” she protested.

Adam giggled. “Well I can see that now,” he said, shifting so nudged closer to Zadie on the couch. “Hey, why do you know so much about all the buildings in this city, anyway?” he asked.

“Oh, well, I mean…I study architecture at the university,” Zadie said.

She watched as Adam visibly gulp. “You’re in university?”

“Oh God, I’m not like, eighteen or anything!” she cleared up, knowing exactly what Adam was trying to get to. “I’m a Master’s student. I’m twenty-five.”

“Oh thank God,” Adam took a sigh of relief. “I can’t be thinking eighteen year olds are cute.”

Zadie arched her eyebrow. “You think I’m cute, then?”

Adam shrugged his shoulders playfully. “Maybe.” He took a sip of beer while still staring directly at her and Zadie could feel her cheeks blush at his intense stare. His eyes were the perfect shade of blue and her consumption of wine wasn’t helping her cease her thoughts.

“Why do you guys call Halloween Sam…Samh…Samson or whatever?” Adam’s voice interrupted her thoughts.

She snorted. “You mean Samhain [[sah-win]]?”

“Yeah. What’s the deal with that?”

“It’s based on an ancient Galic festival. Tonight marks the end of the harvest and the beginning of the dark half of the year,” she wiggled her eyebrows. “Fuck Halloween. We have a fire festival.”

“A fire festival?!” Adam asked. Zadie nodded her head. Adam leaned forward to whisper something in her ear; she could feel the goosebumps forming on her skin and a shiver run up her spine. “What the fuck are we still doing in this apartment? Let’s get out of here.”

It was a festival unlike anything Adam had ever seen before…

They had left the party pretty easily. Adam counted only two pairs of eyes on them as Zadie slipped on her shoes at the front door, and Zadie was too excited, naming all the places she’d show him, to notice any eyes. ‘We’re in Marchmont, which means we’ve gotta walk north’ she told him, as if that meant anything to him. He just smiled and slipped his hand over hers, telling her to lead the way. He was pretty sure he saw her swoon.

Zadie wasn’t kidding when she said it was a fire festival. Some people had literal torches and were marching through the streets of Old Town, and there were many other fire sculptures on display; performers were doing tricks and busking at every corner, again, all dealing with fire; and everyone was singing songs in Galic and strong Scottish accents. Adam was overwhelmed with everything that was happening around him, but he was having fun nonetheless. He couldn’t keep the smile off his face the second he saw Zadie’s smile light up the night, too.

As she brought him right into the middle of the crowd, he grabbed at her hand so either of them wouldn’t get separated from each other. That, and for Adam’s own safety. Everyone was having a lot of fun, but the whole sight of people carrying torches and playing with fire and chanting things in an ancient and foreign language was…creepy, to say the least. “Uhh…is this the point where you hypnotize me, lead me to my untimely death, and everyone here sacrifices my body to the gods like some sort of lamb?”

Zadie let out an animated laugh at his question, moving towards a small pocket of less crowded space where they could breathe a little bit. “Maybe. If you’re good, we’ll find someone else to sacrifice. Your good looks and hot body would make the gods very happy,” she joked. Adam appreciated her humour in this situation, but he was pretty positive if they were in the medieval period, or whenever this festival started, he definitely would have been the sacrificial lamb. “Despite that, are you enjoying yourself so far?”

“Of course. Better this than some house party in Marchfield, right?” he winked. “Marchmont,” she corrected him, giggling slightly. “And yes. Way better than some house party in Marchmont. Even though some of the buskers are freaking me out.”

“Seriously?” For someone who was so excited to show him the festival, he couldn’t believe that the buskers, of all things, would freak her out. Not the chanting, or the fire…the buskers.

“Just the ones with those creepy masks,” she admitted. “I’ve always hated them…I’ve watched too many horror movies.”

“If they’re freaking you out, we don’t need to be here,” Adam said. “I can lie and tell everyone we stayed, but we can go somewhere else if that’s what you want to do.”

Zadie appreciated his offer. Other people would have probably ridiculed her for being freaked out by something so juvenile. Suddenly, an idea popped into her head. “Come with me,” she said, grabbing at his hand and dragging him out of the crowd.

Adam followed her without hesitation, but when he realized they were walking farther and farther away from the crowd he became sceptical. He thought she would maybe take him to a pub, not…wherever they were going. “Where are you taking me?” he asked.

“It’s time for your sacrifice,” Zadie deadpanned.

It was Adam’s turn to snort. “Seriously. Where are we going? I’m a foreign man in a foreign city and you’re taking me somewhere at night all alone!”

Zadie raised her eyebrow at him. “Foreign man? Foreign city? We speak the same language, you numpty.”

“Clearly we don’t, because I have no clue what a numpty is.”

“You’re going to find out by the end of the night, Adam Cole,” Zadie smiled coyly.

As they continued to walk up the Royal Mile and down George IV Bridge, Zadie led Adam through gate adorned with ‘Greyfriar’s’ at the top. Adam knew that everything about this part of the city was going to be old – super old, to his American standards – but this place was even older than he was expecting. It was as if nothing had changed for centuries. When he saw a tombstone, he stopped dead in his tracks. “Seriously…where are we?” he asked, looking around.

“This is Greyfriar’s Kirk,” Zadie said. Again, as if that meant anything to him. “This is the most haunted place in all of Edinburgh…save for maybe the vaults.”

Adam gulped. “Haunted?”

“Mhmm,” Zadie grinned. “So the church was built in the 1600s, and about 1200 Scottish Covenanters were imprisoned here. You have to keep to the paths because if you walk on the grass, there’s a good chance you’ll step on someone’s remains peeking through the eroded soil. Tom Riddle – you know, like Lord Voldemort – he’s here too. J.K Rowling used to write in a café down the street and she got her inspiration for his name from a gravestone here.”

Adam looked around. The place gave him the creeps. He didn’t doubt that everything Zadie was telling him was 100% true – that just made it creepier to him. You could step on someone’s remains just by veering off the path? No-fucking-thank you. “Yeah, cool. Can we go now?”

Zadie smiled. “Don’t you Americans love your graveyards and haunted things on Halloween?”

“Sure, but that’s like…fake stuff. That’s volunteers from your town dressing up and scaring you at the local rec centre turned haunted house. Not…stepping on some prisoner’s bones in a medieval graveyard,” Adam explained, shivering. Zadie grabbed at his hand. “Okay…next place I take you won’t be haunted. Deal?”

Adam smiled down at her, already dragging her out. “Deal.”

It was an adventure of a lifetime…

Cities at night were a journey all on their own. A city at night was completely different from its daytime identity. Adam was learning that Edinburgh had it’s own night time magic that came extremely close to surpassing its daytime beauty.

Much like New York City, Edinburgh seemed to never sleep. Zadie had taken him walking down The Mound and into the New Town, running into some rowdy teenagers drinking along the gates of the Scottish National Gallery. They held hands as they walked along Princes Street, on the park side, so Adam could get a good view of Edinburgh Castle perched on its ancient volcanic rock. He would lean down and kiss Zadie every time she told him wherever they were standing would make a great picture. After she got the hint, she’d make the comment every ten steps.

They weren’t just kissing though – there was actual talking involved. About his job, about her studying, about their passions. How she didn’t always used to live in Edinburgh but moved here for good when she started university; how her parents still lived in the same little house in some town called Pebbles – Pobbles? Peebles? Peebles. – in the Scottish Borders. How she had an older sister who recently got engaged. How nothing ever happened in her town, which is why she needed to leave.

“Where did it all begin for you, then?” Adam asked as they sat on a curb in Charlotte Square, overlooking the classic Georgian townhouses that gave this area of the city it’s distinct character. “Like…this love, this infatuation with architecture. Where did it all start?”

Zadie smiled shyly. “Right here,” she whispered, nodding her head towards the townhouses. “Charlotte Square.”

“These ones specifically?”

She nodded her head. “My school had a field trip to go see Bute House, which is the official residence of the Scottish First Minister…anyway, as we got off the bus, we walked along here and I just…fell in love,” she explained. “They looked so fucking regal…like something out of a fairy tale, or like, where a princess would live if she wanted to escape from her castle incognito. So I asked my teacher who built them, and she told me, and then I said, ‘I wish I could have built them’. And then my teacher said, ‘Well, Zadie, maybe one day you will’.” It was at this point she looked over to Adam to see him smiling. “And ever since that day, I’ve been hell-bent on building these things.”

It was the most endearing story Adam had ever heard. “Thank God for that teacher,” he commented.

“What about you? Where did it all begin for you with wrestling?”

Adam hadn’t taken his eyes off her. “With a house, too, actually.”

Zadie nudged him, thinking he was making fun of her. “You’re just saying that,” she accused as he grabbed at her hand.

“I’m not, I swear,” he told her. “My parents divorced when I was ten and my brother, my mom, and I moved back into my grandma’s house. My karate instructor lent me a VHS of the latest Wrestlemania and when my mom wasn’t around, my grandma let me watch it. I was hooked. I told my grandma that I wanted to become a wrestler and she told me I could do whatever I set my mind to. She’d let me practice on my brother when my mom was at work.”

“That’s the cutest thing I’ve ever heard,” Zadie swooned. “How bad did you beat up your brother though?”

Adam laughed. “It wasn’t that bad. There were never any bruises cause that meant my mom would find out. We got away with a lot around grandma, let’s just put it that way.”

There was a comfortable silence between them, Zadie enjoying the feeling of Adam’s thumb rubbing the back of her hand. After he had taken his eyes off of her, they settled back on to the townhouses. Of course they were beautiful to the naked eye, but he wanted to try and see them as Zadie saw them; as magical, as ethereal structures that had so much life, so much history.

They were silent for so long he thought she might have fallen asleep, but when she raised her head off his shoulder to look at him, he smiled at her. He leaned in and kissed her quickly, and just as he was about to say something, his stomach growled loudly, embarrassing him. Zadie laughed at the noise, but truth be told she was expecting it. They had only snacked at the house party and hadn’t had anything to eat since. She pushed herself up on her feet and held her hand out to Adam for him to grab on to. He did and almost pulled her down with him, but she had enough leverage and Adam had the decency to not put too much of the strain on her.

He wrapped his arms around her waist and held her close. She looked up at him with a smile. “You want to get some lamb kebab?” she asked.

At her suggestion, Adam side-eyed her hard. She started to giggle uncontrollably at the look on his face. She thought she was so funny. “You think you’re cute, don’t you?”

She pursed her lips playfully. “I don’t have to, you already told me you thought so.” He leaned down to kiss her again, unable to resist. “There’s one more place I want to show you,” she whispered. “You up for it?”

“Let’s go,” he smiled, allowing her to pull him in whatever direction she wanted.

“Okay, to be completely honest, I wasn’t ready for physical activity.”

“It’s not that much.”

“It’s enough.”

“You’re a wrestler! Aren’t you like, fit? Isn’t that your job?”

“I have a whole damn lamb kebab in my stomach, woman!”

“Okay, honestly, you would have definitely been the sacrifice to the gods.”

“Are we there yet?”

“Shush!” Zadie exclaimed, trying not to giggle. “It’ll be one hundred and fifty percent worth it, trust me.”

“At least I’m working off that lamb kebab.”

Zadie tried not to roll her eyes at Adam’s complaints. He grunted the entire way up and she was this close to trying to shut him up by kissing him the rest of the way up. But that was dangerous, and she wanted him to work for the view he’d inevitably see.

When they finally got to the top, she looked behind her. Adam’s eyes were wide as he looked at the giant field and ancient monuments in front of him covered in a very thin layer of fog.

“You bring me up Carleton Hill –”

“– Calton Hill –”

“— you bring me up Calton Hill, you beefed me up with lamb kebab, it’s fucking foggy…you really are sacrificing me, aren’t you?”

“It took you only a few hours to realize,” Zadie winked. “I’m serious, Adam. I know it looks like a giant foggy field with some old monuments right now, but it’s just the dew.”

“It’s not just the dew.”

“Okay, whatever. Just follow me,” she pulled at his hand for the umpteenth time that night. “And please…whatever you do, don’t look behind you. At least not just yet.”

“Why not?”

“Cause I want you to get the full effect in the perfect spot. Also because you might fall in love with the city like I did if you’re not careful.”

Adam smiled for the first time since they had started the climb. “Okay. I trust you.”

She led him a bit farther up, made a few turns, and held Adam close. To his credit, Adam hadn’t said a word and had even closed his eyes when she had asked him, for maximum effect.

“Are you ready?” she asked as she stood beside him, holding his hand and watching him to make sure his eyes were still closed.

“I’m ready,” Adam nodded his head.

“Okay. Open.”

Adam opened his eyes at her command and saw the city of Edinburgh in all it’s glory, in the dead of night, lit up in the most beautiful way. So medieval, yet so modern. So small, yet so large. So vast, yet so local.

He understood now why Zadie was so in love with the city. He understood now why Zadie wanted to be in the city, study the city, live her life in the city. He understood why she was so keen on showing other people the magic of the city.

He understood it all now.

He felt her squeeze his hand excitedly. She had been watching his reaction the entire time. “Have you fallen in love?” Zadie asked.

He looked down at her. “I think I have.”

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