I tap a knuckle against the study door.
“Dad?”
There’s silence.
I knock again. “Dad? Are you busy?”
He’s moving around in there, I can hear him. Closing browser tabs, maybe. Shuffling around and rearranging things, in a blind panic trying to look like he’s doing something important. I huff out a tiny laugh at the thought of him hurrying to close the minesweeper window before someone can come in and catch him doing something unserious. I don’t really know what he does in his pokey little study all evening, but one of Jen’s crazy theories is that he’s chatting online to his twenty two year old YouTuber girlfriend, to which I need to remind her, once again, that my dad is too boring to have an affair. Mom says he’s writing reports and even that sounds too exciting for him.
“Come in,” he says eventually, and I let myself into his lair where he is sitting stoically at his computer, a stack of paper, no doubt with exceedingly dull information on them is right by his side, and his hand hovers over it so I'll know he’s especially busy, and whatever it is, I had better make it quick.
I close the door behind me and approach him while his eyes settle curiously on the stack of soft cover books in my hands. “What are those?”
“I spoke to the guidance counsellor at school this week. She gave me some college prospectuses, and I thought we could... um, look through them together”
He heaves out a sigh and gestures to the second chair. The guest chair, I suppose, not that there’s ever guests in here to sit on it. It’s uncomfortable like a lot of furniture in this house, all style but no substance, and I perch on its edge, my knee doing that annoying anxious jerking thing while dad takes off his glasses and swaps them with another pair. “Show me what you have.”
I pass the stack to him and he drops it onto his desk with a thud, picks up the first and immediately flips the front cover towards me with a completely uncalled for attitude. “What’s this?”
“A prospectus.”
“Rhode Island School of Design?”
“Yes.”
He tosses it aside without so much as a glance inside it and grabs the next, “School of the Art Institute, Chicago,” Then reads the blurb incredulously “‘Art and design change the world.’ Alright…” He raises his eyebrows and puffs out a breath as he chucks it into the discard pile. “CalArts, nope.”
My face gets hot.
He snatches another and flips over to the back, “‘Studying here is different,’” He reads, “‘It is about making a better world, about becoming a creative force and learning to change the world through bold and curious thinking…’” He mumbles the rest and then scoffs at it as if it’s some political argument he disagrees with inside the Sunday Times, and he goes on and on in this manner while the rejection pile builds and builds and so does the feeling inside me.
“What is this?” He says eventually. “These are all American schools. American art schools.”
“Yes.”
He scrutinises me like he believes I have gone mad yet says nothing because he doesn’t need to. I already know what he’s asking.
The words come out of me in a rush. I rehearsed this in the hall for five minutes before having the nerve to knock, “Because I think I would get a chance at a really great education there. It’d be good for me to be away and independent and to learn a lot of new things, not just education and art, but also travel and culture. I’d really like to go to college somewhere that’s exciting and dynamic and… and…” Damn, I forgot the other adjective I’d chosen, “...Um, fun, I guess. It’s just that whenever I think about college I imagine myself in the US. I really think that’s where I should be.”
“That’s because that’s what you see in those movies.” He says movies like one might say hardcore pornography, because Christopher doesn’t waste his time with such things as movies. Christopher works, and studies, and reads endless, endless books about World War II. “You’re not going to college in the states.”
“Why not?”
“Because it’s a waste of time and it’s a waste of money. Do you know what it costs to attend just a year of college in the US? Before your living expenses?”
“I know, but I spoke to the counsellor about it, and she explained that there are scholarships.”
He laughs, “You’re not going to get a scholarship,” and switches back to his other glasses and shakes his mouse to wake up his PC, which has some kind of thrilling spreadsheet open on it. This 2009 financial report must be rapturously exciting if he’s more interested in it than the future of his only son and firstborn child.
I inhale sharply, “But why couldn’t I get a scholarship?”
“Because,” He types some numbers into the sheet, “You’d have to have a pristine academic record, a long list of extracurriculars and a very persuasive personal statement,” he peers briefly at me over the rim of his specs, “I’ve been through the US education system, and I know the standard that these colleges expect of their scholarship students. You’re just not up to it.”
“I could be, if I worked hard. I’m already doing pretty well in all of my classes, like, I get Bs in most things-” I stop myself before unhelpfully adding, without even trying, “And I have extracurriculars, like, I play rugby and help out Jen with her maths work…”
“You have to understand that the kinds of people who earn these scholarships do a lot more than that.”
“Well I would do more things if I had more time to myself in the mornings, or in the evenings, or after school, or at any other point in my day when I have to ferry Ivy back and forth from-”
Dad barrels on as though he hasn’t registered that I am speaking, “And you know, as well as the extracurriculars, all of these scholarship students have exemplary records. They're well mannered, well behaved, they never get into trouble, never get detention, never mind suspension. Twice.”
I snap my mouth shut.
“Honestly, if I was the dean of one of these,” he plucks at the limp corner of one of the prospectuses, “Art college places, and I saw an application from someone with your record, I would simply toss it out. There’s not a chance, and before you ask, I am not paying for art school when you could easily do that here. For free.”
“Okay, I understand that, but I don’t really want to go to college here if I can avoid it.”
He doesn’t ask me why. He already knows but doesn't want to acknowledge it, and it’s easier, as it always is, just not to discuss feelings. Any feelings, especially mine, which are the most irritating and irrational feelings of all. “Why art school?” He hums, idly poking around with something on screen. “Couldn’t you choose a more academic course?”
I’m surprised he thinks I’m capable based on all the things he just said about me.
“You could apply for something in Trinity. Math, maybe?”
“Maths.”
“Or if you want something more artistic you could try English. Literature. That would be interesting, don't you think?”
“Or I could just… do art.”
“I would just hate to see you become one of those arty types. One of that NCAD crowd loitering around Thomas Street with their facial piercings and crazy haircuts.”
Oh no, a haircut. I sigh, “I’m not going to NCAD. I was kind of hoping you’d be more enthusiastic about my choices, but if you don’t think they’re right, I mean… what can I do.” I loathe the laugh that comes out of me, this strange, nervous titter that I didn’t even realise I was capable of.
I get up and begin to gather the stack of prospectuses laying forlornly on my father’s desk, my hopes and dreams bound for the recycling bin. “I’ll speak to the guidance counsellor again about my options, I suppose, and then I’ll try and choose something that’s more realistic for me.”
Before I let myself out I force myself to pause and turn to him one last time, “Do you… um, if I come up with more choices for colleges, do you think you’d want to sit down with me some evening and go through them? Like, I mean, really look over all of the options and help me decide what the best thing is?”
There is a lengthy pause.
“You know, Jude, I’m really busy, and-”
“Okay.” I leave the room and shut the door with a gentle click.
Beginning // Prev // Next
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The tragic disconnection between Lucrezia Borgia and Juan Borgia::
What I find sad and compelling about Juan and Lucrezia's relationship is that every time he genuinely makes a gesture to make her happy, it inevitably ends up being misguided, resulting in her getting hurt in some way. Like the debauched play he had prepared for her as a surprise at her wedding to make her smile, not realizing that it would anger her husband and cause him to hate her and her family even more. The Paolo situation is where their dynamic changed forever. Juan, as someone who was assigned as the protector of the family by his father and is already feeling inadequate and incompetent in his position, already saw Paolo as a threat. A guy who could expose his sister, calling himself the father of her child, making demands to see her? Had Juan known what Sforza did to her, the hell she was living, and how she found solace in Paolo, most probably, he would've let Paolo live. He legitimately believed getting rid of him (and he was motivated by jealousy as he has incestuous feelings for Lucrezia)—was the right thing to do—and expected applause for his misguided notions of protecting his family's honor. He didn't realize how much he hurt Lucrezia and tried to make her understand that he did it to protect her honor and didn't mean to hurt her. When he realized that she tried to avenge Paolo and kill him, he made a speech about how their family triumphed because they weren't dysfunctional when they came to Rome, that they should always stick together, and that he's motivated by wanting safety for all of them. After he came back from Spain a changed man, he gifted his sister something that positively represented her—a stunning rare panther in a gilded cage—a genuine gesture to reconcile with her and earn her respect. However, it bites her, and they're unable to make peace. And after Cesare betrayed him at Forli, he spiraled once again, and he realized that no matter what he did, he would never earn his siblings' respect, specifically Lucrezia's. This realization hurt him and made him act on his impulsive as by lashing out at her and dangling her baby from the balcony, which also gave Cesare the motivation to do what he always wanted and justify his jealousy by murdering him.
"I had an amazing personal journey to go on with that character and hopefully I presented it with a sense and reality and hopefully you will feel a bit sorry for the guy. I don’t think he’s useless. Everyone says he’s a useless coward. He’s just placed in some shit situations. He’s not afraid of dying in that sense, he’s afraid of not being liked or loved and being left by his family. Whether they know it or not, they have been ganging up on him from the very beginning of the first season. What’s the problem with him? I think he’s lovely. I think he’s really kind and compassionate and cuddly." — DAVID OAKES
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(HS anon, yes me, again. Thought you've seen the last of me)
Allow me to ramble about Plague for a bit. Because the author did her dirty from the beginning. I hated that she was not taken seriously. Oh, she's drunk and gushing over Malbonte. Because of course she is, Malbonte is just so. Cool 🙄.
Plague. Deserved. Better. 👏 She was that bitch who deserved to be a LI. In fact, she deserved it more than Astaroth or whatever his boring ass is called.
I was more than ready to welcome her with open arms and accept her as the fucked up queen she is. But let's be real, imagine if Plague was a LI and people had to accept her as she is. No redemption arc, just bad bitch doing bad shit, throwing sick parties and enjoying it. Bitches can't accept Amen is a sadistic fuck very sexy of him in this house we stan fucked up individuals no justification whatsoever. Imagine if they had to do the same with her when she's a woman. Hell, Austie gets destroyed by fans every time she apears and this sexy mama hasn't done anything besides breathing. Like what did she do, besides the fact that she stood 5 seconds next to Lucifer and Malbonte.
...
Oooooh.
This past update taught me that RC fans aren't ready for a sexy diabolical queen like Plague to be a LI. They don't deserve a bad mommy I do though. In fact, they don't deserve any bad motherfucker as a LI, when they still go pikachu mode when the evil LI does the evil thing. Shocking. I know.
my inbox is your abode anon feel free to talk my ear off always i'm living for your rants (and your taste) 💗
plague deserved so much better you're 👏🏼 goddamn 👏🏼 right 👏🏼 like she had the most potential for depth out of all the horsemen and it was completely wasted when the author chose to just depict her as an angry little girl making the entire world pay for her temper tantrum like. not even her connection with kira was explored or given any attention and in the end she died clearly because alice just didn't know what to do w her anymore smh
i never thought of the idea of her being a LI but you're so right that would have been really good i mean. vicky is out here running into the arms of lucifer/malbonte after they've spent the vast majority of the story emotionally abusing her so the same could have been done with plague ESPECIALLY because she and vicky have the mommy issues in common and they share the same temper and childish antics like pls... it would have worked and worked great especially because it would have balanced the fucked up ratio of LIs a bit by adding another woman besides mimi but this story is just too cookie cutter. i actually like to think that plenty of fans would have enjoyed romancing plague because we only get interesting femme LIs like every once in a blue moon 🙃 but i see your point for sure
don't get me started on the outrage against amen like HDKSHDKE it was so funny to me because ??? wow i guess evthys isn't the only one who needed to see it w her own eyes to know who she's dealing with HDKSJDK that was such a meta moment lol like evthys has spent an entire season and a half being terrified of this guy despite how much she's into him of fucking course there's a reason for that and he's actually as terrible as we all thought
i don't think it takes away at all from the kindness and consideration he's shown towards evthys and his genuine feelings for her because two things can be true at once and no character is ever just this or that. i still have gripes with the writing for him (a rant for another day) but i agree that the outrage was so unwarranted
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