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i-did · 3 years

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what would make renee angry in your opinion?

I had a really hard time answering this one actually. I thought about it for a while and asked a lot of my friends to see if they had any ideas, and here's what I came up with:

1) A professor or TA who is super shitty to her

Just a really shitty teacher.

as she goes through college, she’s bound to run into some assholes, and I don’t think Renee has perfect grades in the past or present. her not knowing academic terminology and feeling out of place in the college setting would make a lot of sense for a lot of the foxes, and Renee is good on putting on a smile, but she still eventually gets that one professor or TA that scoffs at her questions and “doesn’t have time for the likes of her” and the constant complete dismissal digs painfully under her skin and brings out her anger.

2) People who are intensely rude to her despite her best efforts to be as kind as she can be

Renee is patient, but we all have our limit. similar to the one above, but Renee dealing with someone who is just rude all the time and she struggles to keep reminding herself “we all have bad days, I don’t know what they’re going though.” Renee working in a coffee shop and a woman bumping into Renee and spilling her coffee on herself, only to yell at Renee for an hour, ignoring all of Renee’s pleasant customer service smiles. said customer later on becoming a regular and repeating this behavior, cutting off people in parking lots and flipping them off, Renee being kind and trying to give her a free scone only for the woman to tell her she hates scones, Renee offering something else only for the woman to tell her to shut up. that shit wears you down, and Renee still dumping her kindness onto someone every time only for it to backfire or be dismissed would make her have to take a few deep breaths in the back room before deciding, fuck it, she's cut off from active kindness, now only passible neutrality and not being aggressive is enough.

3) someone who refuses her help

her knowing she could really make a difference, but some people just don’t want help, and she feels helpless and angry. she's not angry at the person, but the situation of them not being ready to accept help or even able to accept help makes her so frustrated she would start to grind her teeth in her sleep. She understands how it is, how hard it can be to take the first step to change or giving up pride or whatever the hurtle may be, but that doesn’t make it any easier than her thinking in her head “just let me fucking help you!!! or anyone!!! just let anyone in to help you!!!! fuck!!!” inside her head. she knows not everyone needs help or saving, but some people do, and when they shove her back, unwilling and not ready for it over and over while she’s trying to save them, she gets frustrated that she can’t.... do anything. and just has to wait. but Renee can be patient, and she’s willing to wait.

4) Someone actively trying to wear her down and get under her skin

okay so this isn’t something that happens often, the closest Renee has really come to it is with Andrew when he first was scoping her out. but– if someone was actively trying to aggravate her, laughing at everything she said and making fun of her, pulling at her looser strings and picking at her ticks, watching to see what brought out her reaction, they could eventually do it and get under her skin. i think she wouldn’t let herself blow up at them since thats what they want, but she would silently excuse herself from the situation to take a breather. no one really does this with her, and Andrew only does this to size her up and even still his interrogation isn’t the type of harassment i’m imagining. i mean like old school bullying, not locker shoving, but the middle school girl shit that leaves emotional scars. and them being older, they’re less afraid to show it and be more straight forward mean. people don’t really do this to her tho, its too much effort to get a reaction, and when they do, its never what they would have wanted, like crying, but instead is her smile falling and then finding a way to make them feel like shit. Renee is kind, but she also knows how to play on a similar level as them, not just with fists. i HC Renee as plus size, and fuck it is hard to be different in anyway as a kid. but childhood bullying was the least of her worries and these people dont see how deep her personal self assurance has grown and how she has learned to stand with her head held high and her face serine. her and dan are quite similar in this, but dan is much more active and direct while Renee is passive in her letting it glide over her, dan has even gotten annoyed on Renee’s behalf and then annoyed that Renee was not affected and why she didn’t fight more directly back.

5) People who are overtly cruel and she struggles to sympathize with

okay so, you ever see someone so mean and rude for zero reason to someone else and you’re just like... what the fuck??? Renee doesn’t let others get to her really, but damn.... someone going after someone else in ways that are just so uncalled for and so harshly.... it gets to her. She once watched an episode of catfish where the catfisher laughed at the girl, uncaring that he crossed so many emotional lines and manipulated people without really any care. and she wanted to throw the remote and punch the tv right where the guys face was on the paused screen. nothing like someone just, kicking someone else while their down with no mercy, or making fun of someone behind their back and them not knowing, making fun of the deaf kids voice behind his back and he doesn’t see them doing it, and she’s like, man, Fuck. You. in her head. I don’t think she was like, always a nice person, in fact, i think Renee used to very much so not be the type to sit with the alone kid at lunch but instead ignore him and think “yea he’s weird, kinda ugly” without thinking much of it. But then she decided to change, and she took everything she thought it meant to be a good person, and became that. she started sitting with the alone kid, she started doing charities, she started to smile instead of punch, and she started going to church. and so when she sees cruelness she was once passive in the face of, maybe even active in, she uses kindness. Renee is she good at using taking the high road in such a graceful way it makes others feel bad. like when she tells Nicky calmly “thats not very nice” after he jokes about Seth dying in a car crash on his way from the airport book 1, and Nicky feels like shit. it feels like shit to get called out sometimes, and while its not her goal, she does know it is an effect of it. (i don’t think she’s mad at Nicky in that scene, but she did say something since she is there to protect hers and she redraws that line in that moment, especially without Allison or Seth there yet to say fuck you themselves.)

6) Injustice and systems of oppression

for these i feel she gets more frustrated, overwhelmed, and sometimes resigned. she knows how dark and shitty the world is, but she stays up at night with her hand on her heart as she breathes deep, thinking about how... utterly fucked everything is. its pretty easy for me to HC that Renee is politically far left and has seen the dark side to lack of resources and systemic issues that are just... so overwhelming she doesn’t even know what she does as just one person. world pollution, corruption, class divide, flint water crisis, the homeless crisis, the prison system, functioning segregation in school systems, just... it all. she’s had nights after volunteering where she thinks “i did something, i did.” and she has days where she realizes “...i’m doing nothing, in the end... its all for nothing, there’s just too much.” just a bad day where she sits there, thinking about how much is wrong and wont be fixed and how ‘doomed’ things are, how broken, and she doesn’t feel at a loss, but rather this deep anger that comes from who she was before.

7) herself.

Her being unable to live up to her own standards. she still thinks mean things, she has mean and cruel urges, and when she has them, she remembers that she’s still a bad person trying very hard to be a good one, and she thinks she’s still a bad person at her core. she’s not self loathing with it, but she does think to herself “i’m a hypocrite.” and sits with that thought for a minute. sparring with Andrew has helped her, to balance the two sides of her in a way that feels both self indulgent and honest to her path forward. but sometimes while sitting in that church pew, she thinks of her dead mother, her dead step father, those she turned in without batting an eye, stabbing in the back to save herself, and she thinks “i should feel something.” but she doesn’t, she wasn’t sorry then and she’s not sorry now. and she thinks, “the others call Andrew a monster, and they don’t realize that i’m one too.” and she tries to muster up something deep inside her, but she cant. and it can frustrate her, how after all these actions, all those hours of beach clean up and homeless shelters and building houses in some other country and going around clapping her hands to the songs, but she’s still the person she is deep down. and it gets to her. i think her having a conversation with Neil one day, on what it means to be a real person, is she pretending who she is? is she her thoughts or her actions? which is the real her? and Neil saying, it’s all of it. every facet of the self is still the self, he is Nathaniel and Neil and Abram and every other person he has been and will be. we change but we are also always ourselves, and her actions are just as true as her thoughts.

#renee walker #aftg #all for the game #tfc #the foxhole court #ask #mailob

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enigma2meagain · 3 years

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RWBY Thoughts on Rhodes: To Be Lawful or Good

Rhodes is someone I had quite a few thoughts in regards to him a while back, and while some bits have had time to be rethought due to there being a fair bit of time between that episode and now, thus I had more time to think my points through, the general gist is the same.

Rhodes is interesting in how he's framed throughout the backstory. He did go out of his way to help Cinder, probably much more than anyone else ever did in her entire life up until that point.

But the question is: did he really do enough, and is he really the good guy in the backstory?

The thing is, for all of his help in training Cinder to be a Huntress, it should be emphasized that he started when she was 10 years old, and the Exam could only be taken when you're 17 years old. The thing is, for him, that's something he can always walk away from since he's just a customer at the very high class (and racist, given the anti-Faunus sign near the end before he finds Cinder murdering her stepfamily), so for him the wait isn't an issue.

Additionally it has to be noted, Rhodes was a customer at the place Cinder worked at, and given that he clearly had people he knew there and the first time he was showing off his weapons to the local elites who frequented the place (given that the place looks very expensive and has high class food, it's probably an upperclass establishment; more on that later), probably a frequent customer. And to reiterate, it also had that anti-Faunus sign near the end, which paints it as being openly racist.

All of these tidbits paint an interesting picture (to me) of Rhodes, and also acts as another view of the type of Huntsmen in the world of Remnant.

The Types of Huntsmen We’ve Seen So Far

Dee and Dudley from Volume 6 were a demonstration of Huntsmen who, while not necessarily weak, were essentially middling to average nobodies nowhere near the par of our heroes, but who nonetheless also exhibited arrogance and a willingness to extort potential marks for "better" services. Showing the first of the shadier aspects of Huntsmen life.

The Ace Ops are Atlesian Huntsmen who chose to throw away the independent nature of the Huntmen to merge with the military and creating what is essentially a secret police in service to Ironwood, who for what they gain in limitless access to technology and weaponry, they lose in terms of independent thinking and willingness to stand for what is truly just to "just follow orders".

But how about Rhodes?

Rhodes seems to be the average Huntsman who is doing his part to stop Grimm, but he's also the kind of person who doesn't go out of his way to shake up the status quo.

Rhodes' actions in the hotel show that for all the help he gives Cinder to TRAIN her, he never once tries to address the true source of her misery (her stepfamily), nor throughout the entire years he's been with Cinder has he ever seemed to try to find out the true extent of what Cinder went through, even though you'd think with how much he was there he'd have at least seen Madam use that shock collar on Cinder at least once before his last night alive. And given that he's mingling with Atlas' elite and seems to be willing to tolerate the "No Faunus" sign only reinforces him as someone who treats the whole thing as "just how it is", not rocking the boat.

This in many ways could be reinforced by his Semblance, which hardens his skin into metal. Given his personality and the way he interacted with Cinder, it could be interpreted as him being capable of being vulnerable, but at the same time keeping a certain distance by steeling himself, similar to how despite he tries to help Cinder, he never does more than what was shown. It's also notable that even though Cinder looks towards the door whenever he comes in or returns, he never once looks back in her direction, which can have very negative implications depending on how charitable you feel.

Rhodes vs Cinder

As I said earlier, Rhodes certainly helped her, but only in training her. He didn't try to find out how bad her circumstances really were despite being there for years, and wasn't willing to rock the boat, figuring that the 7 year wait would be tolerated and Cinder would be free that way, since he can just leave the establishment whenever he wants.

But it's an entirely different story for Cinder. By that point she was already essentially a child slave, and was being tormented and abused with little if any chance of escape outside of the Huntress path, and while it was definitely a light at the end of the tunnel, it was an extremely distant one, and while Rhodes can afford to leave whenever he wishes, Cinder COULD NOT. She was the one who had to endure cruelty after cruelty while she trained and had to endure this for SEVEN YEARS (ultimately she snapped at anywhere between 3 to 5 years, the latter of which puts her at least at roughly the same age as Ruby when she was boosted to Beacon early incidentally), all the while her sanity was likely on the edge of a knife the entire time.

In all honestly, when the Madam and her daughters found out about Cinder having a weapon, it wasn't simply a matter of Cinder crossing a line and going too far by murdering them or something like that.

That weapon, for her, was a symbol of her potential freedom, a chance for her to finally get away from the pain and misery. And when the source of her pain and misery found out...

When you combine the sheer terror of your only possible means of freedom from slavery being taken away from you, combined with years of torture and abuse slowly but surely destroying your sanity...is it any wonder she snapped and murdered them? There's gonna be arguments about whether the stepsisters deserved to die, but the Madam deserved it for simply enslaving Cinder and shock torturing her the way she did.

And then Rhodes shows up.

Keep in mind that Cinder, up until that point, saw Rhodes as her hero, her fairy godfather, her Prince Charming or whatever. Someone who was trying to help her, her only real friend in that awful place.

When she's smiling at him after murdering her abusers, it seems to be more out of sheer relief that her pain is finally over, that she's with someone who she felt cared about her, and would hopefully understand why she did what she did.

And Rhodes handles the situation in the worst way possible.

Rhodes, instead of understanding her situation due to the distance he kept from her, instead threatens to take her freedom away, choosing to side with the law and escalating the situation by drawing his weapons. Maybe it made sense from his perspective, him now dealing with a person who killed 3 people, but given his relation to Cinder, it also comes off as very poorly thought out and incredibly blind to the suffering she had been through. It's even more notable given that he had likely clearly seen Madam hammering the button for Cinder's shock collar right before she died, which would have at least given him an indication of just how bad things really were.

Drawing his weapons against a person who trusted him and is currently mentally unstable was also a really poorly thought out thing to do.

And you can see just how badly Cinder takes it.

Her face transitioned from relief, to hope, to shock at him essentially implying he was going to throw her in prison for punishing her abusers...

To anger and fury because she felt betrayed.

From her perspective, before she became who she is today, this was a deeply broken child/teenager who had the one person who she thought cared for her now choosing to become another obstacle to her freedom instead of understanding her situation.

Yes, she killed him, and it was a tragedy because it was due to bad decisions that could have been avoided. And she shed tears afterwards, which depending on how one sees it, as you put it, could be her accepting the cost for freedom, or it could be showing remorse for what she had done at that moment. It's admittedly tough to say.

In Conclusion

Make no mistake, Adult Cinder is a monster and a dangerous person who needs to be taken down before she can cause more damage. But child to pre-teen Cinder is a different matter, and the events of Midnight can easily be seen as a tragedy on many aspects.

And in this case? Rhodes to me comes off as a case of being too lawful over being good.

It doesn't make Rhodes a bad person persay, but it definitely shows that he was a flawed huntsman who made a lot of poor decisions at the wrong time, and arguably comes off as him allowing his own privileges as a freely roaming Huntsman and a person who did not deal with the cruelty that Cinder suffered to distort his perspective on the situation.

His greatest mistake of all however, was ultimately him giving her a sliver of hope, only to attempt to take her chance away at the end, because he valued the law over the person he cared for.

And that led to his downfall.

#rwby rhodes #rwby v8e6 #rwby v8 analysis #rwby Cinder fall #rwby cinder #to be lawful or to be good

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kootenaygoon · 4 years

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So,

Before changing ownership a decade previous, Tony’s Taphouse had been a biker bar called the Civic. Notorious for its rough clientele and routine bouts of violence, and for harbouring regulars who acted like nocturnal animals, most locals knew it as the Zoo. It had been the preferred haunt for the Hell’s Angels, who had long since been banned from the premises.

“It took us a long time to turn things around,” my boss told me one night, while I manned the door for a Val Kilmer and the New Coke concert. A crowd of twenty-somethings were smoking all around us.

“Whenever we tried to get people to behave they’d say ‘don’t you know this is the Zoo?’ And I would say ‘yes, and I’m the new zookeeper’.”

My boss reminded me of a small child in an enormous body, slightly immature and with a propensity for breaking stuff. He had a reputation for overdoing things, to the point that the Nelson Police Department had nailed him for multiple assault charges. The other bouncers told me he was well known for choke-slamming unruly patrons into unconsciousness, which was the reason he was no longer allowed to assist us when we ejected the city’s shitheads and drunks. The guy was easily 300 pounds, and scary as hell when provoked. The rest of the time he was an amiable teddy bear, quick to laugh and always game to sing “Chocolate Salty Balls” from South Park at karaoke, much to the chagrin of his embarrassed wife.

Most of my shifts were spent alongside a fellow ginger beard named Luke who liked playing bad cop to my good cop. During the day he worked at a pet food store, and he was well-known as a huge softie when it came to animals. While I had a tendency to treat Tony’s like my own personal Cheers, he was monosyllabic and ominous. Late into the night we would hang by the entrance swapping jokes and taking turns shovelling back lettuce wraps and chicken strips, clad in all black.

Eventually I suggested we should update our uniforms. There was a local barber named Chris Brach who bounced at Spiritbar and I admired how he dressed and carried himself like an old-school gentleman. We ultimately settled on matching vests with dress button-down shirts, with each bouncer choosing their favourite colour. I chose a blood red that was almost purple, while Luke went with sky blue. Eventually the whole team adopted this new look, making the whole place that much classier.

Working at Tony’s gave me a whole new perspective on Nelson. I knew who was doing drugs, who was cheating on their spouse, and who was banned from the premises until they came grovelling back to the owners. The Nelson Leafs were preening and omnipresent as peacocks, and in the early hours of the evening I’d encounter the more wholesome members of society as they engaged in events like paint night. Sometimes people would approach me with the latest issue of the Nelson Star, commenting on stories or complimenting me on the cover photo. The print edition was becoming increasingly irrelevant, but Tony’s was one of the few places I could regularly see people consuming it alongside their beer.

From where we stood during our shifts, we looked out at a sports bar that took up the ground floor of the Adventure Hotel. Because we were open later than any other establishment in Nelson, we would watch as the late night crowd funnelled in our direction. Crowds of drunk twenty-somethings would march diagonally across the intersection, ignoring the cross-walks, and it was our job to interpret whether or not they could come into Tony’s based on their lurching gait. Some would nod solemnly when we denied them access, while others would whip themselves into deranged frenzies. They would scream their threats to the uncaring black sky, or demand to talk to the owners. These people pissed me off.

“You’re a good bouncer and everyone loves you, but the other staff have told me you have a tendency to go from zero to sixty pretty quick,” my other boss told me, during a performance review. She was the owner.

“We don’t think it’s a problem, but it’s something we want you to watch out for. Obviously this job can be stressful at times, so it’s up to you to keep your temper in check. It’s about customer service.”

Though there were plenty of threats of violence at Tony’s, it was rare that we actually had to put our hands on people. Most were cowed into submission by our size, and knew they had to play nice if they wanted continued access to the bar. We tried to kill them with kindness, calling them cabs and reassuring them that they’d be welcomed back once they sobered up. More than once I found myself consoling despondent drunks who were horrified by their own behaviour, going through a break-up, or grieving. Some were so confused and inebriated they didn’t know how to get home. I came to love these idiots, or at least most of them, because I considered them part of the Tony’s family.

The most interesting employee was a behemoth brute named Gordo, a holdover from the days of the Zoo, who looked exactly like a bearded Bobby Baccala. The female staff adored him because of his gentle, benevolent presence. He made people feel safe. He wasn’t a bouncer anymore because, like my boss, he’d gone overboard a few too many times. He lived downstairs and oversaw the daily operations, and was only called to help during emergencies. He was the type of guy you didn’t want to fuck with, ever. He loved Tony’s and everyone on staff intensely, and if violence was needed he was more than capable of dispensing it. I’d never met someone with such a fascinating mix of kindness and malevolence to his personality, and I admired how effectively he funnelled his anger in appropriate directions.

One night, during a slow period, he stood out on the street and regaled me with stories of his bouncing days in Toronto. During those years he’d been stabbed and shot multiple times, a fact he delivered with a shy chuckle.

“This one guy was shaking my hand, right? And with his other hand he stabbed me right here,” Gordo said, pointing to his rib cage.

“So I pulled him close to me and snapped his elbow backwards, just like this.”

Gordo recreated the scene with a smile on his face, demonstrating how the guy’s arm had bent the wrong way while the bones snapped and popped. He’d regained control of the situation while the knife was still plunged hilt-deep into his side. He laughed and wiped his eyes, remembering.

“I was a lot bigger back then, if you can imagine that. So the knife didn’t end up doing much damage. It didn’t hit anything significant. Meanwhile this guy’s a puddle on the ground in front of me, whimpering like a little girl.”

When I wasn’t on the door, I would work my way slowly through the lounge area and out to the back patio where people were allowed to smoke. There was a row of comfortable couches and a long counter where people could pull up stools and drink under the gaze of Elephant Mountain. At times I couldn’t believe I was being paid to socialize, and the dance floor playlist introduced me to a new favourite artist: a young Swedish woman named Tove Lo. If we’re talking body, she sang, You got a perfect one so put it on me. If you do me right, we’ll fuck for life, on and on and on.

Paisley had finally moved home to be with her parents, and her absence had proven to be a boon to my mental health. I still missed my dogs desperately but I was finally free to move on without her constant surveillance and gossip. I decided early on that I wouldn’t date anyone on staff, but there was no shortage of young women who would find excuses to linger by the door or stand outside smoking, sizing me up. Most nights I was still ending up at Natalya’s, where I would crawl into her bed and cap the night off with an early morning fuck in the dark. She’d leave her front door unlocked and we’d pant through our routine without speaking a word. She’d resigned herself to the fact I wasn’t interested in anything beyond that, and she never bothered me with small talk. We had what we had, and that was it.

The sleep deprivation involved with working at Tony’s ended up meaning that I spent most of my weekends asleep, recovering in Brendan’s basement and only leaving the house for necessities. Sunday was my only day off, and I needed that down time to get in the right headspace for the Star. I had a couple of ambitious series going on, including one about the Columbia River Treaty, and I needed my mental faculties operating properly to adequately approach these subjects. I could sense that Ed was growing tired of my rock star attitude and reluctance to put in a full 40-hour work week. I kept finding myself asking why I was still there, but I didn’t have another option available. Both jobs and housing were scarce in Nelson, and I was barely holding on.

“I don’t know how much longer I can do this,” I told my friend Tia one night. She worked at the Hume Hotel but had started her own business called Wurst Dog. We’d been discussing whether I could find some sort of entrepreneurial gig to transition to once I was finished with journalism.

“You just have to take a chance and jump, kid,” she said. “Then see where you land. I’m sure there’s all kinds of people in this town who would give you a job doing social media or something.”

“Or maybe I could be a full-time bouncer and write on the side? Finally finish my manuscript? I dunno.”

Tia smiled and mussed my hair.

“I believe in you,” she said. “You’ve got this.”

The Kootenay Goon

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quarterfromcanon · 5 years

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Unexpected

Heather & Valencia - Femslash February - Day 12 - Surprise [3,003 words]

Heather was not in the mood for company. Thankfully, the usual Home Base crowd at that hour of night was not a chatty bunch. Most just caught her eye when they wanted a refill. At least it eliminated the need for small talk. Weekend time slots were already something Heather preferred to avoid, but filling in for Greg while he and Rebecca attended Jayma Chan’s wedding left her feeling especially averse to the social requirements of customer service.

Heather was cleaning glasses when she heard the determined clack of heels approaching where she stood. She couldn’t really say who she’d expected when she turned around, but it certainly wasn’t Valencia Perez in a strapless pink gown.

“I want a drink.”

“People who come in here usually do.” Heather set a tumbler aside and draped the rag over her shoulder. “So, like, a cocktail? Martini? Mimosa?”

Valencia shook her head, which made her disheveled hair slip further from the grip of the metal clasp intended to hold the style in place. “Something straight out of the bottle.”

“Okay, that’s a start. Vodka, brandy, whiskey --”

“Sure. That sounds fine.”

“Whiskey?” Heather verified. “Do you want scotch, Irish, bourbon, or rye? We don’t have Tennessee or Japanese.”

“Why are there so many choices?” Valencia impatiently smacked her hands against the bar. “I just need to get hammered. Surprise me.”

“I’ll get you bourbon.” Heather tucked her lower lip into her mouth, prematurely dreading the response she might get to the next thing she had to say. “How much?”

Valencia spread the thumb and forefinger of her left hand as far as they could go. “I’m thinking about this much. Maybe times two.”

“Whoa, there. You really don’t drink, do you?”

“Not usually, no.”

Heather stretched across the bar and adjusted the measurement between Valencia’s fingertips with the pressure from her own, pushing lightly until they were one finger-width apart. “Let’s start with about... that much. See how it goes.”

Valencia let her hand drop. “That works.”

Heather prepared the order and returned a few seconds later. Valencia slid a bill forward and set her clutch purse beside the drink. “Keep the change.” She took the first sip and leaned back in surprise. “Interesting. Different from what I thought it would be. Is that nutmeg?”

Heather’s shoulders lifted. “It might have similar flavor notes. People don’t usually ask about that stuff. It’s called Angel’s Envy.”

Valencia shrugged disinterestedly and took another drink.

“Cool. Enjoy.” Heather went back to the used dishes.

Valencia attempted to hike herself onto a stool, but the dress was too restrictive. She settled for a chair instead and kicked out her legs, crossing them at the ankle.

Not even five minutes later, Heather heard her voice again.

“Men suck.”

Heather rolled her eyes. She focused her attention on the present task and did not engage with the conversation starter.

Valencia glowered at some nearby barflies who were studying her. “That means you, too. Turn around.”

Heather’s lips twitched at the exchange she heard but did not see. Despite her effort to ignore Valencia’s outbursts, Heather internally conceded that she was curious what Josh did now. Recent observations suggested that it likely had something to do with a proposal or, rather, a lack thereof. Though she had her suspicions, Heather had no intention of voicing them. She was on the outskirts of the group’s interpersonal drama, and she intended to keep it that way.

“Can I get another?”

Heather dried off her hands and grabbed the bottle. She poured Valencia a second serving, double the measure of the first. While she did so, Heather kept her eyes averted to deter additional interaction.

“I know you, don’t I?” Valencia asked. The inquiry sounded semi-rhetorical as if she knew full-well this was not their first encounter, and yet it was clear that she expected verbal acknowledgement.

Goddamnit.

“Kind of,” Heather replied. “We met on that super dramatic party bus ride and then hung out at the beach? Also, I’m in here when you pick up your little sister, so, there’s that.”

“Right!” Valencia feigned a light bulb recognition. She pointed at her and nodded. “Greg’s date. Sporty. Lots of bracelets.”

“I mean, I’m wearing the same accessories right now so I don’t know if that really counts in your favor, but yeah. That was me.”

“Wait, did he throw you over for Rebecca?” Valencia tried to move into Heather’s line of sight as the latter went about her routine procedures. “I saw them tonight at the reception, on the other side of the room. I didn’t say hello, obviously. But did he?”

Heather busied herself with a stack of utensils.

Valencia gasped. “He did!” She angled against the bar and gripped the far side. “Hold on. You called her ‘neighbor’ before, didn’t you?” She popped onto her tiptoes, eyes wide. “Were you friends?”

Heather stopped what she was doing, crossed her arms, and finally looked at Valencia. “We still are. I wasn’t gonna let some CW-style love triangle change that.”

“How can you forgive her after what she’s done?” Valencia demanded incredulously. “She completely betrayed your trust and tried to steal Greg when she knew you two were together!”

Heather’s brow furrowed. The undercurrent of projection was evident, but she couldn’t exactly say that Valencia was incorrect either way. She sighed and tossed her towel beside the register. “I was upfront with her that it hurt my feelings when I first found out but, like, at the same time, she couldn’t really steal him from me if he didn’t wanna go, y’know?” Heather gave Valencia a meaningful look. “I had to deal with that. I had to accept that he didn’t have strong enough feelings for me to make him want to stick around.”

A rapid succession of emotions flickered across Valencia’s face. One instant, she appeared geared up for an argument. The next, she deflated and her shoulders sagged wearily.

“You’re right,” Valencia murmured. “That was the bigger problem.” She dropped back onto her feet and hiked the top of her dress more securely into place. Valencia drank and put it down with a rough thunk. “I called him on that tonight. He was never going to truly commit to our relationship.”

Heather edged away and purposely wiped down flat surfaces in the opposite direction from where Valencia stood. “Yeah, I feel like this isn’t about me, so I’m just gonna--”

Valencia rotated her glass between her hands and continued speaking, undeterred. “I don’t see how you’re supposed to fix a thing like that. If you’re giving him your perfect body, the perfect relationship, the perfect future right on the horizon -- what more could he want? What part of drinking gross tapioca balls with a backstabbing little lawyer from out-of-town fulfilled a need of his that wasn’t being met?”

“Maybe he needed someone who listened to him?” Heather suggested pointedly. “Someone who wasn’t gonna talk over him or say something judgy?”

Valencia drew up short and gaped at her. “Did he talk to you? Did he tell you that’s what was wrong with me?”

Heather wrinkled her nose. “What? No. I don’t really know the guy that well.”

Valencia shook her head in bewilderment. “It’s just that he said almost that exact thing right before we broke up. That I never listen to him.”

“Huh. What a weird coincidence.”

Valencia lifted her gaze to Heather’s face with shame. “Am I really that awful?”

Heather’s features softened. “There were some major communication issues between you two, but it wasn’t all coming from one side.” She drew closer to stand across from Valencia again. “Most of my information is secondhand, so I might not be the person to ask, but I always felt like you and Josh were not on the same wavelength, like, at all. You clearly had a life you were trying to build for yourself and Josh was like this buff, clueless puppy who kept running around the neighborhood. He was supposed to fit into your big picture, but he didn’t. Or didn’t want to.”

Valencia threw back the remainder of her second round.

Heather’s mouth twisted at the corner. “Sorry. I kinda suck at sugarcoating. I was just giving you an outside perspective.”

“It’s okay.” Valencia waved the apology aside. “I’m the one who asked you. And you’re not wrong. It just...”

“It sucks,” Heather supplied.

Valencia’s laugh carried the hint of a sob. “Yes, it does. Fifteen years gone down the drain.” She reached reflexively for her glass but realized it was empty.

The majority of the patrons had wandered toward the parking lot during the course of their conversation. Heather left the bar and tidied the vacated stations.

“Better fifteen years than the rest of your life.”

The words washed over Valencia and she dropped her head to rest on her arms. “I don’t know what life has left for me without this.”

Heather awkwardly patted the back of Valencia’s dress as she crossed behind her. “Hang in there... pal... You’ll get through it.”

“I guess so.” Valencia stared into the middle distance with bleak uncertainty. “But I have no clue where to begin.”

“Well, wherever you start, it can’t be with our alcohol,” Heather told her. She jerked her head in the direction of the clock. “We’re past last call.”

The only other customer, a man in a corner booth, tossed down a few dollars beside his empty bottle and departed. Valencia cast a look around the vacant room and landed on something fixed to the wall.

“Do you have darts?”

Heather gathered the money the man left behind and wiped down his table. “I know I literally did that exact thing after my breakup, so it makes me a hypocrite, but you really don’t wanna be throwing pointy objects right now. Okay, actually, put it this way: you might, but our walls don’t want you to.”

‘I need to let out some of my anger,” Valencia protested. “Like you said, you just went through this; you get it.”

Heather considered her for a moment. She circled behind the bar, ducked out of sight, and stood once more with three darts in her fist. Heather set them down in front of Valencia. “Just while I’m closing things up, okay? Technically I’m supposed to be ushering you out the door by now.”

Valencia accepted the offer and positioned herself in line with the board. “Thank you.”

Heather made a noncommittal noise at the back of her throat.

Valencia took aim and threw, but the dart left her hand too late on the curve and swerved right, narrowly missing Heather’s shoulder before it embedded into the wall.

Heather stared at it for a fraction of a second and simply arched her eyebrows. “I can’t tell if this means you were way off or almost right on target.”

Valencia nearly smiled but protruded her lip in a fake pout instead. “Don’t make fun of me.”

“How many times do you get to try to impale me before I’m allowed to say something?”

“At least one more.”

Heather laughed and continued flipping chairs onto empty tables.

Valencia’s second dart nicked the baseboard but was otherwise harmless. Her third lodged into a single scoring space near the top. She gave a triumphant cry, but the accompanying bounce of joy proved hazardous to her health. Her balance was briefly thrown off and she had to grab onto the edge of the bar to steady herself.

Heather hip-checked the register closed. “Is it starting to catch up to you?”

“I think maybe a little.”

Heather upended one of the overturned chairs and scooted it directly behind Valencia. “Wait on this. I’ve gotta do a quick sweep -- the checking the bathrooms kind and the broom-across-the-floor kind -- and then we can figure out how to get you to your apartment.”

Valencia sat swaying in place while Heather rushed to wrap up the last duties. “At least I don’t live too far from here. It’s impossible to live far away from anything in a place this small.”

“Yeah, no, you’re not driving.”

“You have a ride service?” Valencia removed the decorative clasp and winced from the faint ache as her heavy hair was allowed to fall naturally beyond her shoulders.

“No, but we should.” Heather tucked her foot behind the dustpan to keep it from sliding.

“So what am I supposed to do? Sleep this off in my car? That’s not safe either.”

“Leave it here. Have someone bring you by to pick it up in the morning.” Heather dumped the detritus into a waiting trash can. “I’ll swing wide and take you where you need to be.”

Valencia blinked and tilted her head to the side. “Why?”

“So no one gets hurt. Duh.”

“But I’ve been bugging the crap out of you for the past hour.” Valencia rubbed her fingertips along the oval of metal in her palms. “You could just leave me here. Why help if you don’t have to?”

Heather briefly vanished to check the men’s restrooms. She reemerged and caught Valencia’s eye with her brows knitted together. “People don’t have to want something from you to treat you like a person who matters. I mean, there are totally dickheads out there who act that way, but like... Basic human decency shouldn’t be transactional.”

She disappeared through the door to the women’s stalls, leaving Valencia to mull over her statement. Neither spoke for the remainder of Heather’s shift. Valencia observed the blue moonlight dappled across the floor and scratched her heel against the back of her ankle.

“Ready?”

Valencia looked up to find Heather holding out her forgotten clutch purse. She took the bag, put her hair clasp inside, and tucked it under her arm. “Yeah, I’m ready to call it a night.”

She stood and Heather put her chair on its designated table. “Same here.”

They left the building. Heather fished the keys out of her cargo pants. She locked the door, turned around, and held out an elbow.

“Are you good to walk, or...?”

Valencia looked at her feet. Admittedly, it would be easier if she removed the heels and went barefoot, but there was no way that was happening. She tested one exhausted, wobbly step. The parking lot seemed so far from where they stood. Valencia sighed and took hold of Heather’s arm. “I’d better play it safe.”

“Yeah, I think that’s a good call.” Heather proceeded with small strides. Her gaze repeatedly darted in Valencia’s direction, monitoring her steadiness. It took them at least thrice the time it would have ordinarily, advancing at such a faltering pace, but they made it to their destination without disaster. Heather pushed the button to unlock the vehicle and helped Valencia get situated. “You can just throw that notebook in the back.”

Valencia cleared the cushion as Heather suggested and settled comfortably. She reached for the seat belt and Heather climbed in beside her. “Why does the inside of your car look like you bought out a yard sale?”

Heather lifted her eyebrows, but her tone was unfazed. “You kinda have a habit of insulting people who are being nice to you.”

“Sorry.” Valencia’s expression became genuinely apologetic. “That was rude.”

Heather twitched her shoulders. “It’s just a thing you might wanna think about. Maybe figure out where that’s coming from.”

She draped an arm across the back of Valencia’s seat while she twisted. Heather reversed out of the parking spot and turned toward the exit.

Valencia provided a quick set of directions to the apartment, and Heather gave a nod of confirmation that she knew how to reach the address. Valencia removed her hoop earrings, added them to the contents of her clutch, and used the purse as a rather uncomfortable pillow against her window.

Heather adjusted the dials on the radio to fill the silence. She tapped her fingers against the steering wheel and occasionally glanced over to check on Valencia, who fell into a fitful sleep before they’d even reached the end of the road.

A while later, Heather gave Valencia’s shoulder a gentle shake. “You’re home.”

Valencia jolted awake and sat upright. She swiped a hand across her cheek. “Oh. Okay. I’ll, um --”

She started to unbuckle herself from the seat, but her volunteer chauffeur left the car. Heather walked to the passenger side and pulled the handle. “You said second floor, right? You’re gonna need a hand on the stairs.”

A possible refusal appeared to form in Valencia’s mouth, but the instinct to fend for herself faded from behind her eyes. “Yeah, probably.”

They linked arms, just as they had before, and made a clumsy but safe journey to Valencia’s front door. Valencia sifted through her belongings for the keys and shoved them into the lock.

“You should sleep on your side. Tuck some pillows so you don’t roll over,” Heather advised. “I’m not sure if you’ve had enough to get sick, but it’s an important precaution just in case, especially if you’re here alone.”

Valencia nodded and stepped through the doorway. “I will.”

Heather hooked her thumbs in her belt loops. “Good. Well, bye.”

Valencia’s grip tightened on her purse. She leaned one arm against the door frame. “Thank you for doing this for me. Seriously. I’m lucky you were there.”

Heather flashed a polite smile. “No problem.”

"I don’t know if it helps coming from me, but Greg’s an asshole.” Valencia caught hold of the door handle and brought it slowly to a close. “Bye.”

Heather’s breath puffed out in a weak laugh. “It does a little, yeah. I’ll see you... whenever.”

They lifted their hands in parting. Heather reached the stairwell just as Valencia’s door clicked shut. She wound down the passageway and crossed the parking lot to her car. When Heather slid behind the wheel again, she looked at the upper floor of the apartment building. She shook her head with a bemused chuckle and started the engine.

“What a frickin’ weird night.”

#H+V FF #CEG Writing by Me #Helencia #Heather x Valencia #Gonna work up to the current prompt bit by bit #she says while finding herself adding the longest installment yet #???#It'll happen though. :P

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ikesenlemonadestandstories · 6 years

Text

Five Star Restaurant

Hey everyone! How’s it hangin? I feel like it’s been 800 years since I’ve posted anything. Life has been a mess lately and I’ve been chugging along through those ‘Trick or Treats’ and sort of just forgot that I write other things lol (whoops).

Anyways~ here is the next installment of ‘The Part Timer Series’ which is the tag you can use to look up the other parts of the story. You can also slide on over to my Master List for a comprehensive catalog of my Ikesen works.

Like I said earlier the Trick or Treat’s will start rolling out on October 18th and you’ll get a post every day, twice a day, for 13 fright-tastic days!

WARNINGS: Harassment in the work place. A large majority of this situation stems from a real life ass I dealt with a work. I won’t go into a great amount of detail but be forewarned that there’s some uncomfy stuff peppered in here.

Continuing with the lovely give-away cameos, in this and all subsequent chapters you are going to see @elievalentine‘s OC - Akiharu Natsuyuki and @one-eyed-captain-kinky ‘s OC - Zhari joining the gang.

This series is the food baby of @ikesenhell and I. We had an in depth discussion over this concept while sharing a meal, though it happened before the release of the most recent Gatcha event, so most of this AU is now Non-Canon...but oh well..

Story under the cut to avoid dash clutter!

Happy reading everyone!

Five Star Restaurant - p4

[YN]

You had been working at Azuchi long enough that you could tell when something was going on outside of the typical day-to-day. The only tip there might be an issue came from a very frantic Zhari and Hideyoshi pulling the host aside to chide him for placing a group of men in your section.

“Is something the matter?” You inserted yourself between the bickering pair.

“Not necessarily, The guys that were just seated in your section are a bit difficult. We usually have them sit at the bar and let Ieyasu take care of them.” Hideyoshi looked on apologetically “I wasn’t at the stand to help the new host, so they were accidentally given to you.”

“Oh, well, I’m okay to wait on them.” You paused, waiting for objections “If that’s alright with both of you?”

“May as well. If you have any problems, give a holler, and either Hideyoshi or I will come running.” Zhari patted you hard on the back. “Good luck!”

She skipped off, leaving you alone with Hideyoshi, his brow crinkled showing his displeasure and without thinking you poked him between his eyebrows. “You’re thinking too hard. If you’re not careful your face’ll get stuck like that. Don’t worry, I’ll come get you if I need help.”

His eyes widened in surprise before his face fell into a calm smile. “Alright.” Smoothing the stray hairs that had made their way out of your elastic hair tie “I’ll be right up front if you need anything at all.”

You were readying a tray of waters for the table in question when Nobunaga came up to the counter beside you. “They’re grabby, watch their hands and let Hideyoshi know the moment something happens.”

He didn’t give you time to respond before walking back through the door to the kitchen calling after Akiharu.

“Good afternoon. My name is (YN), and I’ll be the one taking care of you today. Can I start everyone off with something to drink?” Six sets of beady eyes turned, giving you a one over.

“Well hello there, never seen you here before, Missy.” The man directly to your right spoke up.

“Ah and for a good reason, I’ve not been here before. So drinks?” You turned with a smile trying to get them to put in an order.

These men, not that they deserved to be called that, were infuriating, but it takes all kinds of people. Digging deep into your patience reserves you continued giving service with a smile. Between all of the garbage on the floor, the throwing of straws, ‘accidental’ drink spills, incorrect food orders, dropped utensils, and don’t even get you started on all the attempted groping you barely managed to evade. You were nearly at your wit's end.

It was near time to bring out their checks, not that that task had been any more comfortable. They kept switching back and forth between single, split, and group checks, you had half a mind to give them one and tell them to take it up with Ieyasu on their way out, but you were determined to see this one through.

“Missy if you would?” The man who seemed to be the ringleader of the group snapped, literally snapped at you, finally earning your ire.

“Yes, how might I help you?” You tried to keep your eye from twitching as you forced a cheerful smile.

“You see, we feel like the service today has been pretty questionable. We know you’re new so we’re willing to cut you a break.” He grabbed your free hand as he stood. “Such soft hands.”

Hello, creepy. Alarm bells were sounding in your mind as you tugged, trying to free yourself from his grip. “Excuse me, I’m uncomfortable. I need you to let go of my hand now,” You said with finality in your voice.

“And see there’s the problem sweetie. You’re not very friendly.” He let go of your hand stepping forward. As you backed away, he grabbed a strand from your ponytail bringing it to his face as he kissed it openly.

“Hideyoshi” You screamed. Hand drawing back poised to strike as you brought it around quickly. It connected but not with the intended target.

Hideyoshi stood in front of you protectively, glaring openly at the customers as your hand laid flat against his face where you had walloped him. “I think it best you boys pay and be on your way.”

“I don’t think so. The lady was gonna hit me. I’m not paying for anything until you do something about your staff.” He smirked as the entire table chuckled menacingly, moving to step around Hideyoshi towards you again. In seconds the advancing male was on the ground before you.

“Hey! You okay man!” Two of his friends leaped over to him as the looked up in horror.

“Excuse me, sir, if you could, please refrain from such harassment and violence while you’re here.” Nobunaga came up behind you placing a protective hand on your shoulder as he offered you a tense smile. All the while the men looked on in shock, as the rest stood abruptly from their seats.

“What kind of employee roundhouse kicks a customer! I want to speak to the manager!” the man on the ground screamed as his friends helped him up.

“Present.” Hideyoshi stepped forward glowering at the group of them. They jerked back.

“Not you, bring us the owner! Call them if you have to.” he shrieked again.

“How can I be of assistance?” Nobunaga smirked as he squared his shoulders to them.

Jumping back they screamed at the group of you. “What kind of place is this that the employees attack the customers! We’re never coming back here again you damn geezer!” You saw Nobunaga’s eye twitch as Akiharu scurried over handing him his phone while they fled from the restaurant.

“Wait! They didn’t pay their bill!” You started to chase after only to be grabbed around the wrist by Hideyoshi.

“Hello, Mitsuhide.” You stopped, turning in Nobunaga’s direction. “I need you to take all of the money from the customers that just left here.” he snickered as he hung up the phone. “Would you help Hideyoshi ice that? We can’t have the face of the restaurant sporting a black eye.”

You looked down taking a sudden interest in your shoes before you stalked off to the kitchen with Hideyoshi.

[Nobunaga]

It was clear Hideyoshi was troubled over the fact that a particular group of men had been placed in (YN)’s section. I was on my way over to give counsel, but it would appear you were much better at quelling his misgivings than myself. An interesting development. I watched on from my window above the dining area, making sure that everyone was behaving accordingly. You were a hard worker, and I didn’t need you being scared away by seedy guests. Especially ones we actively try to intercept and keep from female staff.

So far you were killing them with kindness, I had never seen someone deal with such rude guests with such a bright smile before. Between all of the thrown straws, spilled drinks, and dropped silverware you had done a marvelous job troubleshooting and dealing with their antics, though it was admittedly hard to watch. I think it was about time someone else took over. I was almost down the stairs when I heard you call for Hideyoshi and a large crack echoed through the otherwise empty restaurant.

I rushed around the corner as Masamune, Akiharu, and Zhari nervously poked their heads from the back. “That didn’t sound good.” Akiharu lamented

“I knew she was feisty, but I didn’t realize our lass was that spirited,” Masamune whispered to the group of them staring to gather.

“Akiharu,” I turned looking at her “Can you get some bags of ice ready. It appears our fireball may need a little help cooling off.”

It didn’t take long before Hideyoshi’s voice filled the quiet space. “I think it best your boys pay and leave.”

The men audibly scoffed or clicked their tongues at Hideyoshi “I don’t think so. The lady was gonna hit me. I’m not paying for anything until you do something about your staff.” You could tell he wanted to dispute it but the bright red mark on his cheek and her quickly shrinking figure was enough to keep him silent.

Now felt like the appropriate time to swing in. Literally. I kicked the young man who was advancing on (YN) quickly as a means to get him away.

“Hey! You okay man!” The scums henchmen leaped over to him as the looked upon me, to my sheer delight, in horror.

“Excuse me, sir, if you could, please refrain from such harassment and violence while you’re here.” I walked up beside you placing a protective hand on your shoulder trying to reassure you with a smile as best I could. Though I found it hard to manage through my general anger over the situation.

If they had been sitting before they were all out of their chairs now. You could see each of the man’s underlings weighing how they would fair against us in an all-out offensive. The thought of it was amusing.

“What kind of employee roundhouse kicks a customer! I want to speak to the manager!” the man I had kicked yelled from his place on the ground as his friends helped him up.

“Present.” Hideyoshi stepped forward glowering at the group of them. The surprise was clear as day on their faces, but they composed themselves again asking for me.

“Not you, bring us the owner! Call them if you have to.” He shrieked again. This grew more amusing by the minute.

“How can I be of assistance?” I smirked as and squared his shoulders to the group asserting my dominance over the situation as best I could.

“What kind of place is this that the employees attack the customers! We’re never coming back here again you damn geezer!”

‘Geezer’? That’s it. I would teach them to mess with my employees. I fumbled for my phone only to remember I had left it back in the kitchens with Akiharu. Damn. I felt a familiar tap on my shoulder and swiveled to find the very same girl innocently holding my phone out to me. I would say she’s an angel, but Akiharu knew full well who I was about to call, the mischief and anger in her eyes told me that much.

“Wait! They didn’t pay their bill!” Your cry brought my attention back to the situation at hand. Fortunately, Hideyoshi grabbed hold of you before you could chase after the group of ruffians. Quickly I punched his number into my phone, and he picked up after a single ring.

“Hello, Mitsuhide. I need you to take all of the money from the customers that just left here.”

“You mean the group of six men that came flying out the door a moment ago who always harass out female staff and guests? I thought you would never ask.”

I laughed knowing the situation would be sufficiently taken care of for now and turned my attention back to my employees.

“Would you help Hideyoshi ice that? We can’t have the face of the restaurant sporting a black eye.” It was evident you were embarrassed over the whole incident, but I was no longer sure how to reassure you.

I watched as you led Hideyoshi back to the kitchen to hopefully take care of the swelling, that had been quite the swing after all.

#ikemen sengoku #ikesen #ikésen #ikémen sengoku #The Part Timer Series #short story #my story #in conjunction with Yesha #cybird #ikesen reader insert #ikesen nobunaga #ikesen hideyoshi #cameos from one-eyed-captian-kinky and elievalentine #fan fic #this is a half true story #say something if you're being harassed

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argotmagazine-blog · 6 years

Text

The Art Of Being A Unicorn

“Look, all I’m saying is that I don’t believe for a minute she really wants to fuck women.”

Our first round of drinks arrived five minutes ago and already the conversation is on Candace and her recent induction into the Sapphic Sisterhood. I take a deep gulp of my Riesling. And another. Empty glass in forty-five seconds. Self-preservation in the form of wasted wine.

“It’s just some kind of phase. Maybe she skipped the ‘experimentation’ stage in college and wants a round two. Either way, no way she’s suddenly a dyke.” Kate takes a deep swig from her bottle of Magic Hat, confident she’s made her point. The alcoholic equivalent of dropping the mic.

“It’s just so weird.” Lisa tries to fish the cherry out of her Cosmo with the swizzle stick. She slowly pulls it up the side of the glass, and then loses it, the candy red sphere tumbling back to the little well in the bottom of the martini glass. She purses her lips as she stabs it and then pops it into her mouth. “She’s only dated guys, before. Though, I mean, it’s not like Dana is much of a chick. She’s so...” She trails off, twirling her hand in the air in front of her as she tries to find the word.

“She’s ‘so’ what?” I press, knowing the answer, my tone sounding more frustrated than I planned. The others at the table don’t seem to notice, but out of the corner of my eye I can see Kevin lean his head on his hand, so his face is ‘casually’ pointed my direction. He raises his eyebrows, his eyes reminding me of my promise to be nice to his friends. I give him my best ‘I know, honey, but I kind of want to stab them in the face right now’ smile in response, my lips almost painfully pressed into a thin, curved line, my eyebrows raised to mock his.

“Oh! Butch! That’s the word I was looking for!” Lisa looks satisfied. She turns toward her husband. “Right?”

Mark shrugs, dipping the complimentary pumpernickel directly into the included ramekin of butter. He scoops the off-white cream onto a corner of the bread, takes a bite, and double dips.

“Maybe she’s bi? Or pan?” I bring out the smile I usually reserve for annoying customers, hoping it will keep my voice even and friendly.

Kate scoffs. “People only say that as an excuse to be sluts.”

“I dunno, Kate. She was cheating on David with Dana before they broke up.” Mark points at Kate with his second piece of bread, his mouth full.

“Bisexual doesn’t mean slutty. And even if it did--“ My voice comes out an octave higher than I’d have liked. The customer service smile is not so much put back in its neat little compartment in my mind, as violently ripped away. Kevin takes in a sharp breath which evolves into a heavy sigh as he leans back in his seat, finding something interesting about the ceiling.

Kate speaks over me. “Yeah but David hadn’t had sex with her in, like, a year. So, that’s kind of his own fault.”

Mark helps himself to another scoop of butter. “You think Dana tricked her, somehow? I mean, like, Candace is lonely, vulnerable, and then this person swoops in and makes her feel desired. Yeah, the parts are different but if you close your eyes, it all feels the same.” He looks up at the rest of us, noticing the sudden silence. “What? It’s only gay if you give.” He pops the last bit of bread into his mouth. “Well, I guess except for butt stuff.”

I eye Kevin’s Captain and ginger ale. The server could come back any time, now. I really should have ordered something stronger than wine.

“Lesbians don’t do ‘butt stuff’, Mark.” Lisa rolls her eyes at her husband. “They use, I dunno, dildos and shit.”

“Cos all ladies really want the D.” Mark’s voice is smooth as he purses his lips in a cocky mockery of seduction, motioning with both hands to his crotch in the universal, ‘suck it’ sign. “Right, Kev?”

Kevin looks away from the lights on the ceiling. “Hmm? I, uh--“

“Oh yeah,” Mark interrupts, giving a slow, knowing nod, “Kevin knows.”

“Look, why--“ I clear my throat and lower my voice as Kevin gives me a light kick under the table. “Why do you care so much about Amanda’s love life? She’s dating a woman, now. So what? I mean I’m--“

“Wow, the salmon looks awesome!” Kevin interjects. He points at an expertly crafted photo of perfectly air brushed pink fish in the menu.

“Dude, you can’t order fish at Outback, that’s just weird.”

“I’m having the chicken.”

“Oh come on, why would you go to a steak place and not get steak?”

“I like chicken.”

“Blasphemers, all of you.”

I leave them to their bickering, reaching across Kevin to snag his drink. I stare at the side of his face as I down it in two chugs. Fuck it.

Later, walking to the car after goodbyes and promising to get together again soons are exchanged, I let out the hot, writhing put of snakes that have been in my stomach most of the evening.

“Dude, what the fuck was that?”

Kevin doesn’t even look at me as he pulls out his keys, pressing the button to unlock the car. His green Camry beeps, the interior lights automatically illuminating the cabin. “What the fuck was what?”

“Cutting me off like that when they were talking about Candace! I know they’re your friends, but they were being fucking assholes.”

He opens the passenger side door, stepping back and waiting patiently for me to sit down and reach for my seatbelt. “Because I knew you were going to play the bi card.” He pushes my door closed and walks to the driver’s side. His door dings when it opened.

“Excuse me? ‘Bi card’? Are you actually serous right now.”

The overhead light dims into darkness. He shrugs, inserting his key into the ignition. “I just don’t see why my friends need to know that about you.” He turns the key, reaching for the radio volume knob as the CD player come to life. Death Cab for Cutie pours from the speakers. “It’s not like it even counts, right now. You’re with me.” He turns up the volume and puts the car into reverse.

“Care to explain this?” Meredith throws the pink and blue notebook onto the black marble coffee table. It slides across the smooth, polished surface, before coming to rest in front of me. Half of it hangs into void between the table and the couch. The 3D yellow flower on the front bounces slightly on its small spring. Meredith glares down at me, the angry lines around her mouth betraying the age her perfect make up tries to hide.

“My journal? You bought it for me for Xmas.”

“Don’t be a smartass.” My dad’s voice holds barely controlled anger. I know that he will end up yelling by the end of this confrontation--he always does. And I will end up matching his volume as my words devolve into rage filled sobs. It’s a very specific script. But for now, he’s holding onto at least a shred of civility.

“I really don’t understand what’s going on right now.”

“What’s going on,” Meredith’s voice drips with patronizing contempt, “Is that you got ‘hot and heavy’ with Hope. What are you, some kind of dyke now?”

Pressure starts to rise in my sinuses. “You read my journal? What right do you have--“

“What right does she have?!” Dad jerks forward in his chair, his face red. “What right do you have?! You don’t own that journal, little girl. It’s under our roof, it is our property.”

“Why is this such a big deal to you?” My throat is tight and my words come out in a strange croak. I am determined not to cry this time. I won’t give her the satisfaction.

“The big deal,” Meredith’s lips purse in disgust, her coral lipstick fluorescent against her overly tanned skin, “is that it is wrong. And we will not have it under this roof.”

“Technically, I wasn’t under this roof. We were in Derek’s car.” I want to delete the words from existence as soon as they’re out of their mouth.

My dad sighs. I’m impressed with his composure thus far. I expected my inability to keep my mouth under control to spark the shouting portion of tonight’s entertainment. “You’re not even old enough to have sex with men, how could you possibly know if you want to have sex with women?” It’s the same line he’s given any time I mention my various gay friends.

“I’m sixteen.”

“Exactly.”

“The fact I exist proves that teenagers have sex, Dad.”

“I called her mother.” Meredith interrupts the debate on teenage sexuality to bring us this important breaking news. She crosses her arms over her off-white sweater, smirking.

Panic rises in my throat, followed by the acidic taste of bile. This panic is not for myself. “Are you serious? How could you do that?! Her parents held a freaking laying on of hands at her birthday party! They wouldn’t allow her to attend sex ed! What do you think they’re going to do with her when they find out she likes girls?”

“That is not my problem, but she assured me that this will never be an issue again. And you two are forbidden to see each other.”

There is a low buzzing in my head as my mind fills with a white, blank space. I don’t realize I’ve left the couch until I find myself sitting at my desk in my room. I’m surprised they let me leave without further judgment. I don’t even know if I’m grounded.

Later that night, long after my dad and stepmom go to bed, I sneak the cordless phone out of the living room, and dial Hope’s cell. It goes directly to voicemail.

The next day an overly polite computer voice informs me that the number has been disconnected.

Hope isn’t in school that Monday. Or Tuesday. Or Wednesday. Then, through the Humphrey High rumor mill, I hear the news.

“Her parents Baker Acted her!” I shout as I walk through the door leading into the kitchen from the garage. Meredith is at the island putting the finishing touches on a sandwich. She doesn’t bother to look up.

“Who are you talking about?”

“Hope! They lied and said that she’s a danger to herself! She’s in an institution because you told her mother about us! This is your fault!”

Her eyes meet mine, steel wrapped in brown silk. “I will not be spoken to that way by a dyke.” She takes a bite of her sandwich and places it onto a dark green plate. She carries it out of the kitchen, through the living room, out the sliding glass door, and onto the patio. She sits on the painted white concrete and dips her legs into the clear water of our pool.

“So you’re a lesbian?” My mother’s voice is calm and conversational. I hear her typing through the other end of the phone, multi -tasking between talking to me and participating in an ‘alternate-lifestyle’ chat room. She recently acquired a computer, launching herself into the late 20th century a year past Y2K. Her internet provider is AOL.

“No, mom, I still like guys, too. I guess I’m bi. I actually kind of like this dude in my Chemistry class. He looks like Ethan Embry.”

“I have no idea who that is.”

I sigh, exasperated in that way only teenagers feel when confronted by their parents’ ignorance of the really important things in life. “He’s an actor, mom. He was in Empire Records? Can’t Hardly Wait?”

“You know I’ve never seen these movies.”

“That Thing You Do?”

“Oh! I liked that one! Who was he?”

“The bass player.”

“Oh, okay. Yeah, he’s cute.” She pauses. “But you like girls, though.” Back on topic.

I slouch further into the fuzzy blue overstuffed chair in the corner of the den. It’s the ugliest chair that ever uglied but I love every comfy inch of it. It was the only piece of furniture left over from when my parents were married. I have no idea why my dad lugged around for over a decade. I am equally confused as to why Meredith allowed it in the house, as it clashes with everything, even if it is banished to the den, the room company is least likely to see. All I know is that I call dibs when I move out after graduation in a few months.

“How did your dad and Meredith take it?”

I sigh, my breath causing static into the phone. “Not good.”

“Hmm.” She makes a noncommittal noise and I can tell she is trying to decide to play nice or let me know for the eight thousandth time how she feels about my father and his bride. “You know, I’ve experimented with women.”

My mouth could catch flies. “Wha--really?”

“Mmmhmm.” The keyboard continues to clack in the background. “That one convention I went to, I played with a couple female subs. It was okay. Boobs I could play with all day but anything below that, eh. Not really into vaginas. Dicks are much more fun. Oh, and Allen and I did have a threesome with that Mille girl who used to live next door to us. Remember her? She used to keep an eye on you when you were in middle school?”

I shut my eyes tightly, a sharp pain in my temple. My brain tries to process this outflow of information. The play dates with ladysubs weren’t really a big deal--I’d known about my mom’s kinky lifestyle for a while--but Millie? Beautifully damaged, dramatic, soft haired Millie?

“Y-You had sex with Millie?” I stammer when my mouth decides it can once again form words.

“Yeah. Kind of. Allen was there, too--“

“I had a crush on Millie, mom.” Actually, crush was a loose term. I was infatuated my Millie. I dreamed of Millie. She was the first real life girl I was ever interested in. My confused desires previously focused on beautiful actresses like Lucy Liu and Portia De Rossi, what with Ally McBeal being my queer gateway drug.

But Millie. There was something special about her. Something wild in the way her life was full of emotional turmoil and passion. She was a walking soap opera and it fascinated me. She was also the first person I ever smoked weed with, so there was something to be said about my mother’s choice of baby sitters.

My mother laughs. The typing sounds stop. “Really? You liked Millie?” Another laugh cuts off whatever I wasn’t going to say. “Looks like we have the same taste in women.”

“Oh god.”

The typing begins anew.

“I’ve seen her play five times.” The woman in front of me has dark hair and is beautiful. The dim lighting of the bar shadows her skin a darker brown and she wears her hair naturally, kinky curls springing from her head in every direction.

“And I thought I was bad!” I give a little self-deprecating snort. “I’ve seen her three times, I think? I try to make sure to get tickets whenever she’s in town. She really must love this venue.”

Arms reach around and above me as women crowd the bar to grab a drink before the end of intermission. Melissa Ferrick is already back on stage on the other side of the club, tuning her guitar and laughing at something her drummer said. The stage lights make her short brown hair look blue.

The woman takes a sip of her martini, her maroon lipstick staining the glass. I didn’t know anyone actually drank martinis. Everyone I know makes due with the cheapest beer they can dig up, and wine either in a magnum or a box. One day my friends will realize that being twenty-one means we are allowed to be choosy. I’m tired of pretending I like the taste of PBR.

“What are you thinking about?” Her lips are a smirk. I didn’t even realize I zoned out, staring at the dark green olive at the bottom of her glass.

“I want to eat your olive.” My answer is honest, but I wish I could take back the words. She raises her eyebrows for a silent second before bursting into laughter. It comes from deep inside of her.

“Is that what you kids are calling it nowadays?”

I’m glad for the bar’s terrible lighting as I feel my face get hot. I take a long swig of my Newcastle. Oh god, new subject. “I saw Doria Roberts open for her a few years ago. She was just fucking amazing. I just oh man so good.”

She gives me that smirk again and my insides feel squiggly. “I was at that show. Too bad I didn’t see you there, we could have met sooner.”

I can no longer meet her eyes. It’s just too much. “I was with my ex then, anyhow. He was reviewing the show for UCF’s newspaper. Trying to get a music column up and running. “

When I look back up, her eyebrows are furrowed. She pulls her head slightly away from me, looking at me out of almost the corner of her eye. “He?”

I shrug, not sure why she’s asking. “Yeah. Didn’t work out. Still friends, though.”

She shakes her head, sighing as she stands. “Sorry, chica, I learned a loooong time ago not to get involved with straight girls. To0 much drama.”

I spin fully towards her on my bar stool. “But I’m not—dude, I’m bi.”

She scans the crowd closer to the stage, making eye contact with someone and raising her hand in the ‘one minute’ sign. “Oh honey,” she says as she picks up her drink. She continues smiling at the woman in the crowd, not bothering to look back at me. “If you’re still calling yourself bi at your age, you’re straight. Sorry to let you know.”

She walks away, weaving through the crowd of bodies towards the front of the stage. Melissa Ferrick readjusts her mic, her black guitar reflecting the shadows of her fans. There’s a squeal of feedback. Everyone laughs.

“I’ve liked you since high school, I just needed to see what it was like.” Jane’s fair cheeks are red as she confesses, looking from me, to her hands, to the TV showing the DVD menu for Moulin Rouge. My lips are still tingling from the kiss she surprised me with a few seconds before.

“I--“ Ugh, I’ve never had to do this, before. “Look, Jane, I’m flattered and you know I love you, but not really like that. I just don’t—“

“It’s ‘cause you’re still in love with Ray, isn’t it?” She rolls her eyes, flinging herself against the back cushions of the couch with more force than I thought her tiny frame could muster. She blows an errant lock of blond hair out of her eyes.

“No, that’s not—“

“I liked you better when you were a lesbian.” She reaches for the remote.

“What is with you, today?” Kevin hurries to catch up with me as I hurry to keep myself a few steps ahead of him. I should have known better than to come to Pride. This was a stupid idea.

“What are you talking about? I’m fine.” I maneuver around a pretty girl with a pink crew-cut. Her t-shirt informs me that linguists do it with tongues.

I feel a tug on my arm and stop as Kevin uses it to hold me in place while he closes the last few feet between us. “No. I know what okay looks like and this is not okay. This is acting weird. What is going on?”

I gently pull my arm from his grasp and run my hand through my pixie cut. “I just--“ I pause to find the words. “I feel weird. Here.” I look down at the sidewalk. A fried and shriveled earth worm is stuck to the concrete. “With you.”

“What?” He sounds more hurt than angry. Damn it.

“It’s not really about you, I just feel like--” I shrug, looking up to scan the tops of the surrounding buildings. I never noticed that there was molding up there. Lion heads. Clichéd. “I feel like I’m an imposter. That I don’t belong here because I’m with a guy. Okay?”

He scrunches his nose and scoffs. “That’s stupid.”

“What?”

“No one cares that you’re here with a guy. No one is judging you for not being gay enough, okay? Everyone’s been enjoying the parade and the free candy. No one has even noticed. You’re being paranoid.”

I take a deep breath to keep myself from screaming. He doesn’t understand. He didn’t see the raised eyebrow the dreadlocked woman next to us gave when he caught one of the handfuls of condoms that were thrown into the crowd by muscled men in silver shorts. When he gave me a nudge with his elbow, saying “This’ll come in handy tonight!” with a wink. He didn’t see the man in front of us turn to look, pursing his purple stained lips, as Kevin stated with surprise that he didn’t realize the Polar Bear Club supported gay rights. The man rolled his eyes as I explained in a hurried whisper what the term ‘Bear’ referred to, and no, it didn’t mean they liked to jump into freezing cold rivers. He stood out in his black t-shirt amid the sea of rainbows. And it made me stand out beside him.

I slowly let out the breath I’ve been holding and take his hand. There’s no use in arguing. “You may be right. I’m just being insecure.”

We walk a few blocks, taking in the colorful crowd that surrounds us.

“Kev?” A voice from across the street stops our stroll. Candace waves, making her way through the crowd, Dana holding onto her hand protectively.

Kevin waves back and we meet in the middle of the sea of people. Hugs and "oh man how’s it been, haven’t seen you in forever"'s are exchanged.

“Wow, you’re the last people I thought I’d run into here.” Candace states, laughing.

Kevin returns the laughter, surprised. “What do you mean?”

“You don’t usually see a lot of straight couples at Pride.”

Jenna Swisher's work has appeared in Chatham University's literary magazine, Minor Bird, as well as Daikaijuzine, The Battered Suitcase, and Beyond Imagination. She lives in Pittsburgh with her boyfriend and their five cats.

#bisexuality #biphobia #relationships #emotional labor #pride #lgbtq #culture

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feelsgood-anon · 7 years

Text

Eros - Bar AU Chapter 9

DISCLAIMER: THIS PIECE IS A MYSTIC MESSENGER AU. IT IS HEAVILY INSPIRED BY THE AMERICAN SITCOM CHEERS, A SHOW CENTERED AROUND A BOSTON BAR CALLED CHEERS AND IT’S REGULARS. EVEN THOUGH I HAVE TRIED TO KEEP AS MUCH OF CANON PERSONALITIES WITH ALL THE MYSTIC MESSENGER CHARACTERS JUST REMEMBER THAT IT IS AN AU AND A FEW THINGS MAY BE DIFFERENT THAN IN GAME OR YOUR HEADCANONS. THIS HAS BEEN FUN TO PLAN AND I HOPE YOU FIND A BIT OF JOY READING IT!

PG13+ FOR SWEARIN’ AND BOOZIN’.

CH.1 PT.1 | CH. 1 PT. 2 | CH. 2 | CH. 3 | CH. 4 | CH. 5 | Ch. 6 | Ch. 7 | Ch. 8 | Ch. 9 | Ch. 10

Sometimes a man gets carried away, when he feels like he should be having his fun much too blind to see the damage he's done Sometimes a man must awake to find that really, he has no one So I'll wait for you..... and I'll burn Will i ever see your sweet return Oh will I ever learn Oh lover, you should've come over 'cause it's not too late

Oh Lover You Should Have Come Over - Jeff Buckley

“Not there, Cannon. It’s far too close to the stage. You’ll get in the way if you take drink orders. Everyone must be able to see clearly from wherever they sit.” Sugar had come in thirty minutes before the bar opened to make sure the place was to his liking for the show that night. Saturday had rolled around and he had yet to reveal who was playing but this didn’t phase the man as he barked orders to everyone.

Zen had conveniently made himself sparse to the point of being late to work as he didn’t want to deal with whatever Sugar had been planning. The idea that things were being done behind his back - or at least, that’s how he saw it - didn’t make him all that happy. He didn’t even know who was invited to play and he made a point to not ask out of sheer pettiness. Tonight the bar wasn’t under his care and he decided to show up whenever he felt like it.

This didn’t matter to Sugar one bit. In fact, he was happy that Zen wasn’t in the way of setting things up. He was also happy that things wouldn’t stir up as Sunny had volunteered to help in whatever way she could which would definitely rub the bartender the wrong way.

“This is quite the menu, Sugar! You have a lot of fancy drinks on here,” Sunny chattered as she studied it a bit more, “You really went all out for this! I’m impressed!”

Sugar sauntered over towards her with an amused smile, “The type of patrons that will come with this act will expect a bit more finesse. This place has never been a shabby tavern and it’s time people remember that it’s just as classy as that silly bar down the street. They may have mundane entertainment but we bring superb service along with top-notch acts.”

“I’m not wearing that stupid outfit, Sugar. I’m no butler, and I’m definitely not someone’s slave.” Cannon hissed as he finished moving around furniture.

“Everything looks great, though! I’m excited for tonight. We’ll have to work extra hard to keep up with the tables!” Sunny said cheerfully towards the other waiter, “And perhaps you should smile a bit more!”

“No.” Cannon responded flatly, “I’m not pretending to be someone I’m not. If they want to come here, they have to learn how to deal with how I am.”

“Perhaps you should think about being a bit more about customer service, Cannon. You may get better tips if you were friendlier.” Sugar walked behind the bar to start setting up more of the fancy glasses, “People appreciate a stunning smile. Take Sunny, for example. Customers feel welcomed and at ease when she approaches them.”

“I get all my drink orders right and get it to them quickly. My tips are just fine.” Cannon growled, “She still messes up and gets sympathy tips for being cute.”

“You think I’m cute?” Sunny beamed proudly, “You two are just giving me so many compliments! I appreciate it. I’ve been messing up a lot lately and I’ve been pretty down about it. Not just with drink orders. I still feel really bad about what happened with Zen.”

Sugar waved his hand, “Don’t worry about him. He’s just gloomy because someone finally challenged his ego.”

“No...I mean, I did something really bad.” Sunny squirmed a bit, “You see, I kind of-”

“What happened in the past should stay in the past. No use in dwelling on it.” Sugar cut her off. He wasn’t too interested in what type of argument they had as he was well aware what type of things would have been brought up to anger Zen so much, “I just hope that in the future you will take my warnings with more consideration. I have known him far too long to not know how he will react to certain things.”

She looked down at the menu in her hand as her fingers fiddled with the edges, “I suppose I should. But it still doesn’t change the fact that I think I can help him as well. I’ll take your words a bit more seriously, I just have to be a bit more careful how I approach him.”

Cannon rolled his eyes, “Or you could just drop the savior routine and listen when we say to back off. You’ve seen for yourself how quickly he can shift from being the most thoughtful person to the biggest asshole.”

“But I can change that! I know I can!’ She declared, “I just need a bit more time!”

“Do as you wish, but there will be a point where we will have to back away and let you suffer the consequences on your own. I have no qualms with defending you but if you insist on badgering him there is only so much I can do to stop him from overreacting. Like I said before, he has the right to his own privacy and if that is continuously invaded I will have to side with him eventually.” Sugar sipped from his wine, “There is a time and a place to help, but there is also a time and a place to just stop.”

Sunny let out a huff, “Yeah, I get that now. But it doesn’t mean i’m going to just drop it. He obviously needs someone to talk to about things or else he wouldn’t be in the situation he’s in!”

“Just let it go,” Cannon sighed, “He’s been relatively fine save a few isolated incidents but when you got here that all went down the shoot so maybe you should back off.”

“Hey! It’s not me that caused it! I saw the articles he keeps stashed away! I know he’s upset about-”

“Silence, Sunny. I’m going to have to stop you there. I understand that you want to help but I won’t stand by while you air out his issues to whomever listens. His privacy, respect it.” Sugar reprimanded a bit harsher than normal.

Her nostrils flared as he had attempted to shut her down, “How dare you! I am no servant of yours to quiet whenever you don’t like what I have to say! I’m going to the bathroom, you guys can finish this up by yourselves!”

Cannon scratched the side of his head as she stormed off, “You know, I got used to Zen being dramatic but I don’t know if I can handle the both of them in one place.”

Red approached them as he had finished setting up the stage, “She’s not so bad. A fiery little thing, though. Hey Sugar, I finished up the lighting and connecting the sound system. Anything else yah need?”

Sugar shook his head without looking at the work Red had done. It wasn’t his expertise and it surely wasn’t his place to question things he knew little about, “As long as you are sure they will work you can go about your opening duties. You as well, Cannon. Thank you both for being diligent.”

The twins nodded and dispersed to their other work letting Sugar sit at the bar alone in his thoughts. From an outside perspective the man had many things to worry about: Zen having been even more irritable than normal after his second argument with Sunny, Zen being defensive that this performance was set up behind his back, the inevitable colorful conversation Zen would have with him once he found out who was performing.

Zen. The root of what Sugar should be nervous about.

But as he sat there with the two employees running around him to get Eros ready for the night, not a single care in the world was passing through his mind. The only thing he cared about was this night going smoothly, and the potential revenue that could come from it all.

Jingle~

Sugar’s attention was directed towards Zen walking in without a word. “Now darling, are we still throwing a tantrum?”

“Shut it, Sugar. I’m not in the mood.”

“Ah...I guess we are. Please, don’t let me interrupt your fit.”

Zen walked passed him towards his office, “Whatever. I just have some work to do.”

“Ah, which reminds me. I need to speak to you about tonight’s performers. You might want to know-”

“Look, you put this together so leave me out of it. If you have an issue then deal with it yourself. It’s obvious that I, even as the owner, had no say in it so I refuse to help.”

Sugar rolled his eyes, “Of course there are no issues, I do things thoroughly.”

“Then I don’t want to hear it, got it? Leave me alone. I’ll be out to help Red when it gets busy.” Zen stomped off to the room, leaving the door slightly open to hear anything going on.

Cannon came back around to the bar top and started wiping it down, “Well, at least he won’t be stealing the attention tonight. Hopefully it won’t be too much work for my brother and Zen can stay holed up in his office all night.”

“I sincerely doubt he will be quiet all evening, considering…” Sugar mused, “I will take care of him when the time comes. Isn’t it almost time to open the doors? Let’s get this evening started.”

************

The night was going well as many people had come in with the announcement of the performance. Everyone was busy, even Sunny had completely forgotten that she had gotten mad at Sugar in the first place, “Wow, whoever you invited to play must be pretty well known! This place is busy!”

“Of course they are well known, I told everyone I would only accept the best. Even Clicks couldn’t disagree with my choice.” He elbowed his friend who had arrived a bit earlier. Clicks nodded, “Ah yes, an excellent choice in terms of music. In terms of what may happen-”

“Is my problem and I will deal with it accordingly.” Sugar interrupted him, “Let’s all have a good time. Even if you are working, Sunny, I hope you enjoy the music.”

Her smile widened as her eyes sparkled brightly, “If you enjoy it, the music must be fantastic! You seem the type to have very refined tastes.”

Sugar’s face was plastered with a smug smile, “Naturally. I have no reason to subject myself to mediocre content when I can afford excellence.”

Clicks chuckled as he leaned towards Sunny to whisper, “He can be a bit stuck up, don’t you think?”

Sunny blushed as she didn’t know if she should actually answer that question or if it was only a joke. “W-well...I wouldn’t call it that, he’s just proud of what he has is all. Say, Sugar. Who is performing anyway? You never told us.”

He pointed towards the stage as a few people began to set up instruments, “You know them, just wait.”

The lights dimmed and the patrons hushed, knowing the show was about to start. The piano started to play lightly and the spotlight turned onto the person that began to sing.

Sunny looked towards the beautiful music playing and her jaw dropped as she saw the person at the microphone. “Is that…” Her head turned to address Sugar but she caught a glance at Zen who had emerged from his office, leaning against the doorframe of his office as he stared in disbelief at the stage.

He had been sitting at his desk completely disinterested in whatever was going on out in the bar but the moment he heard the song his legs twitched and as soon as he heard the familiar voice his body jolted from his seat. It was a voice he hadn’t heard in two years and it still caused his chest to tighten. It can’t be...it can’t be her…

Zen swung the door open and his heart seemed to stop when his gaze landed on the woman under the lights. The long flowing red hair that used to fan across his chest when she would lay with him on the rooftops of his apartment building. The deep green eyes that reflected brightly in every picture he would take of her. The perfect hourglass shape that he kept his hands on whenever humanly possible, or kept any clinging material off of. Those pouty lips that he loved to kiss; the same mouth that must have trembled while she had been crying over the phone telling him they were over.

She was just as he remembered.

But the music turned his stomach. Every breath he took was forced - as if he had forgotten how to do the most natural of bodily functions. Of all songs for her to open with, it had to be the one that sent him back to the first night he had met her. He had just finished an opening night of his newest role and went for a few drinks with the cast members. They managed to find a lounge near the theater that wasn’t terribly crowded on a Saturday night and settled in a booth near the stage.

A band had been playing which didn’t bother the actors much but Zen had taken a slight interest in the beautiful woman that approached the microphone. It wasn’t her stunning looks that grabbed his attention as much as the cute candid smiles she gave the band members as they started to play. The moment she began to sing, though, everything around him became a blur. He was enthralled by the smooth sultry tone that poured from her form and his body leaned forward as if he were being pulled towards her. Never once had he felt he was truly in love with anyone but as his pulse pounded in his throat he knew.

This was love.

That same magnetic feeling was what he felt that night in Eros as she swayed to the beat the same way she did on that fateful night. His heart still raced but now it was mixed with the overwhelming weight on his shoulders of how things turned out. No longer did the music bring him flutters, only reinforced the vice that was secured around his insides from every regret he had.

Sunny noticed the same pain in his eyes as he saw the afternoon after his vacation though she also noticed something unfamiliar. He’d never looked at any of the women that fawned over him at the bar this way. This wasn’t a man on the hunt for a one night stand - no. “He’s still in love…” She spoke softly to herself.

Clicks had noticed her staring and turned his head, frowning slightly as he leaned over to Sugar, “Are you sure this was a good idea? Look at him.”

Sugar shushed him as he watched the performance, “I haven’t heard her sing in a long time, and neither have you. I’ll deal with him later. Just enjoy it while you can.”

When the song ended Zen finally let out a breath as he had managed to hold it in during the last half. Shaking his head he looked around the bar now that he was back in reality and when he saw Sugar his gaze hardened. He made his way quickly over to the man and grabbed his suit jacket from the back, “Is this your idea of a joke, Sugar? What the hell is she doing here? More importantly, why the fuck would you do this to me? I thought we were friends but you bring Scarlet here to rub in my face? I want answers now!”

Sugar reached his arm behind to rip Zen’s hand off, “This has nothing to do with you, Zen. She happened to be in town and I know her presence would bring in plenty of customers which if you haven’t noticed,” He motioned out with his other arm, “was a good call. Of course, since you’ve been pouting in your office all night while Red has been running himself ragged you wouldn't know. How about you help him out?”

“I don’t want to be out here and you know why.” Zen growled.

“Suck it up, Zen. Be an adult and deal with it. She’s going to finish up her set and be gone. You are more than capable of getting through forty-five more minutes of her singing.”

Zen inhaled deeply and walked behind the bar, “We are having a chat in my office once the night is over.”

Sugar shrugged as he sipped at his wine, “As you wish. Also...Scarlet? Really? Your creativity is lacking when it comes to nicknames. I think she is far more deserving of something other than her hair color.”

“Shut up, Sugar.”

Zen got through the rest of the set in a disgruntled mood, but still worked orders flawlessly. He would steal glances towards the stage every now and then, careful not to engage in eye-contact with the woman singing.

After the band had finished packing up, the singer approached Sugar as Zen had wandered to the other side to service some patrons. “This place is lovely but I don’t know if I can get used to calling you Sugar.”

He smiled at her endearingly, “It’s a rather annoying nickname but when you say it I don’t mind it as much.” He stood up and gave her a tight hug, “It’s been far too long, Scarlet. It’s good to see you are doing well. Bravo on the performance. I didn’t think you could get any better but you have proven me wrong.”

“Scarlet? Is that what he decided to call me? Well, I suppose it will do.” She took his embrace willingly, “It’s good to see you too. You seem to be in good shape, but what else would I expect? What with the compliments and such you haven’t changed a bit.”

“You think he would change? He still wears the same type of suits after all this time!” Clicks chimed in, “You’re looking as beautiful as ever, my dear. It was an absolute pleasure and an honor to hear you sing.”

She let go of Sugar and walked around to hug Clicks, “And you! You old devil! It’s good to see you too.”

“Enjoying your family reunion?” Zen hissed as he finally found the courage to approach them, “It would’ve been nice to know she was coming, I would have taken the night off.”

Scarlet dropped her arms from Clicks and turned to look at Zen, offering him a smile, “Hi Zen. It’s been a while.”

He straightened up and stared at her blankly, pulling his pack of smokes to tug one out, “Hello, Scarlet. It has been a long time. You look well.” He casually lit one of the cigarettes, “Still singing, I see. That’s good. Have you been touring?”

Although she went on to explain to them all her rounds in other countries Zen wasn’t paying attention. His mind was exploding with every thought imaginable of their past. The words that came from her spiked pains through his chest. He wanted to know everything yet at the same time he wanted to kick her out of the bar. Her slight chuckles as she told little snippets of amusing events throughout her time overseas made it unbearable to stand there. I used to make her laugh that way, is all he could think. He just couldn’t handle it.

“I’m sorry, Scarlet. I can’t do this. Could you please just go?”

She fell silent at his request, “Oh, yes. I have overstayed my welcome. I apologize.”

“No need for apologies, Scarlet.” Sugar interjected, “Let’s go have dinner, shall we? There’s a lovely restaurant that opened up a few weeks ago and I have been curious to try it out.”

Zen slashed his gaze towards him, a fiery hatred piercing through the man, “Oh yeah, go ahead! Ask her out on a date! I see what you wanted to do here. Screw you, Sugar!”

“Zen, it’s not like that.” Scarlet reached over the bar to try to touch his arm, “I wanted to-”

“Don’t touch me.” Zen said softly as he backed away, “I don’t want to see your face again. Have a good night.”

Clicks let out an exasperated sigh as the bartender walked off. “He doesn’t mean it, Scarlet. He’s just upset, you know how he can get.”

“Yes, I do,” She pulled her arm back to her side, “Which is why I want to talk to him but it seems like he wants nothing to do with me.”

Sugar stood up and brushed off his jacket, “Come, we have much to talk about. Clicks, just call when you are ready to go home and I’ll send a car for you.”

Clicks nodded as he still kept an eye on Zen, “Of course. I just want to make sure he’s okay.”

Scarlet hugged Clicks once more and kissed him on the cheek, “Don’t be a stranger. It was good to see you.”

As soon as the two walked out of the bar Zen came back around and threw a towel towards Clicks, “Wipe that red lipstick off your face, you look ridiculous.”

***

Once Sugar and Scarlet were in the car, he spoke a bit more casually, “I’m worried. You know that.”

“Has he been drinking heavily again?” She asked aloofly, “He seemed composed tonight.”

He shifted a bit in his seat, “I’ve only encountered him completely drunk a few times these past two months but I am aware that he reserves the bulk of his reckless behavior for when I’m not around.”

“And what would you want me to do? He refuses to talk to me.”

“He still has feelings for you. There is unfinished business that he needs to put to rest so he can move on. I think once that happens he can take the proper steps towards dealing with things effectively.”

“He still has feelings for me?” She cooed as she looked out the window, “It’s been so long and he is the one that has ignored me.”

Sugar looked over towards her with concern, “Do you still have feelings for him?”

She brought her hand up to her face to bite at her thumb as she tried to formulate words to answer but sighed instead in failure. His eyes squinted at her as he tried to read her body language, “Perhaps it isn’t wise, then. I wouldn’t forgive myself if I were the reason for you to be hurt a second time.”

“It’s okay, I’ll talk to him. I just need to get him alone. He’s far too proud to show any sort of weakness in front of any of you.”

He nodded a bit and sat up straight as they reached the restaurant, “Just be careful, please. I cherish you as a friend and only want the best for you.”

“Oh Sugar, you always know the sweetest things to say.” She joked, “Are you sure you weren’t just wanting to ask me out on a date?”

Sugar chuckled as he got out of the car, walking around to open the door and offering his hand, “I don’t think I could handle such a woman as you, my dear. In any case, I always thought you two were a lovely couple. I’d never dream of stepping between that.”

She took his aide and stepped out of the car, patting his chest lightly, “You’re a good man and an even better comrade. Zen is lucky to have you on his side.”

“Let’s just hope he sees it that way as well.” Sugar mused.

******

After Zen had sent everyone home he took his time locking up. Normally he was more than happy to leave with the group but he chose to stick around the bar to collect his thoughts. It was obvious to anyone that came in proximity to him that seeing Scarlet had him shaken, especially since he ignored every woman that tried to hit on him that night.

“Shit, she’s just as amazing as she was back then…” He mumbled to himself. His back was turned to the door and when he heard the familiar jingle of the bell above the door he called out before turning, “Sorry, we’re closed.”

“I didn’t want a drink, just wanted someone to talk to.”

He froze in his place at the voice that once again coaxed every emotion from his being. Having been caught off guard he became more frazzled than he already was from his interactions with Scarlet earlier. Quickly composing himself he grabbed his glass of vodka tonic and proceeded to turn around smoothly to look at her and reiterate, “Sorry, we’re closed.”

Scarlet scoffed before walking towards him, “You can’t even entertain me for a few minutes? You owe me at that much, at least.”

Any sense of confidence the man had mustered up suddenly dissipated at her statement and instead a wounded mutt now staring down at the ground stood behind the counter. She winced at his reaction but continued to approach him with a gentler demeanor, “I didn’t mean it that way, you don’t owe me anything.”

“No, you’re right. After what I put you through and all the damaging words I said I should be grateful you would give me the time of day. Have a seat. Can I get you a drink?”

“No thank you, I just want to talk.”

“Last time we talked, I made you cry.”

She ignored his invitation to sit, instead she stood at the gap that enabled the staff to access the bar, “Zen, that was two years ago. You were young and in a bad place. It doesn’t excuse the things you said but I understand how much stress you were enduring. I’d like to think that under any other circumstance you wouldn’t have been that way.”

“Of course I wouldn’t!” He exclaimed, “I loved you more than anything in the world! More than my acting, more than the stage! But damn it all, being weak and letting my drinking rule my life.”

“And it’s happening again?” her hand came up and placed a finger at his chin, lifting his head up to force eye-contact, “No one wants to see you fail.”

A warmth spread across his body at her physical touch, as small as it was. Out of the year and half they had been together not once did she not cause this. It soothed him, comforted him. She felt like home. “I have it under control, I promised Sugar I would. Is that why he brought you here? He thinks something’s wrong?”

“You have loyal friends that worry about you, friends that care enough about you to use their last resorts. Don’t be mad at him. He just wants what’s best for you. And well, he didn’t have to twist my arm or anything. After so long I welcomed the idea of being able to see you again.”

He moved closer to her, taking her hand in his and lightly kissing her knuckles, “I’ve missed you. I’ve missed you so much.” He whispered, “Sugar was right, there is something wrong. I was hurt thinking you’d finally found another person to be with. I saw the news articles. I felt every raging emotion and wanted to just numb myself from the pain. All this time and I’m still crazy as shit for you.”

His open palm was at her cheek now, rubbing his fingertips lightly over the delicate skin of her face. As much as she tried to hold it back and contain herself for his sake she couldn’t help but melt under his caresses. If she were to deny that she didn’t feel the same way she’d be lying. She too felt she had lost a part of herself that night she broke up with him over the phone. But here he was, looking just as handsome as she had left him and the tethers that had kept them together still remained although now frayed by the weathering storm that was their downfall.

“I’m sorry, Scarlet. I’m sorry for all the names I called you, for the way I treated you. You didn’t deserve it.” His words were more than apologetic, they spoke as if he were in confession trying to absolve himself of his sins, “I’m not mad that you left me. I’m glad that you had the right mind to leave when you felt uncomfortable. I didn’t want to talk to you because I felt I had no right, not after what I did.”

Her slender fingers fell onto his waist as she subconsciously pulled him closer, “I forgive you, Zen, but you have to forgive yourself too.”

Zen let out a sigh as he now couldn’t stop staring at the sparkling eyes that had always managed to grab his attention. Against his better judgement he leaned down without hesitation to press his lips to hers, hand setting firmly against the small of her back. The taste of her sent his head to the clouds remembering every time stole her lips throughout the days. This wasn’t a normal kiss; this was passion, this was love, this was longing.

He had spent most of their years apart trying to find someone that would have the same effect on him but night after night of chasing women he never felt the same thing. She was his everything. “Stay with me tonight,” he murmured into her mouth as she made no indication to move from his grasp, “I need you.”

“Zen...you know I shouldn’t.” She replied in a sorrowful tone, “We can’t do this to ourselves.”

His jaw clenched knowing she was right. Not only did his body yearn for hers but his heart beat wildly to have her back into his life. This woman, who did nothing but encourage him and support him, was what he thought he needed to solve all of his problems. But respecting her wishes he dropped his hold and backed away, “I understand. I wouldn’t want to be around me anymore than I had to either.”

Scarlet reached out to grab his arm, “I didn’t say I didn’t want to.”

Zen looked down at her hand, then trailed his gaze up her arm to her shoulders, to her neck where he lingered slightly, then back to her face, “The offer still stands, then.”

She pursed her lips as she tried to make a decision. She wanted him just as badly as he wanted her. “It could end horribly if we did this.”

“Things already ended horribly.”

Taking a deep breath she closed her eyes and nodded, “Then yes, I’ll stay.”

******

The clock chimed at six o’clock the next evening at Eros and Zen still hadn’t shown up. Red had been slightly worried but Sunny was the most vocal, “It’s not like him to even call! What if something happened? Shouldn��t we try to contact him?”

“If he doesn’t show up in an hour, I’ll call him myself. He’s done this before, he probably has a massive hangover and slept in.” Red played it cool as he lied through his teeth. The last time his boss didn’t contact them was about a year ago and it turned out the cab he took the night before to get home got in an accident and he ended up in the hospital. He didn’t dare tell Sunny this because knowing her she would be calling every hospital in the city trying to find out if he was there. “Just make sure to stay on top of the tables, hun. After last night we sure have been getting a lot of customers in.”

“Ah, so again I have come to save the day. I should be far more involved in this place.” Sugar mused as he had managed to take the evening off to check in on the place, “I wouldn’t worry about Zen. He’s probably still upset about seeing Scarlet last night.”

Sunny came around and wagged a finger at him, “Yeah! I wanted to talk to you about that. How come you get to squeeze into his privacy yet you reprimand me for trying to help? All I did was try to talk to him about her and you managed to bring her in person! How else did you expect him to react? Did you see the look on his face? It broke my heart, you could tell he was an absolute wreck.”

“If you don’t recall, Sunny, I have known him for far longer than you have so my actions have a different effect. I knew exactly what I was doing and I knew exactly how he’d react. You really think I didn’t think this through?”

She crossed her arms as her nose stuck into the air, “It was still cruel, and you know it.”

Sugar cleared his throat and set his glass on the counter, turning his body to give her his full attention, “One of two things could happen. He could either be destroyed about it and continue on his binge or their talk could have provided him with closure that will help him move on. I’m prepared to deal with the former but am hoping for the latter.”

“A fifty percent chance is rather low odds when it comes to a person’s emotional stability.” Clicks said as he sipped his glass of whiskey, “I’m surprised you took the gamble.”

“It was a risk I took for the sake of helping him out. Any other option had much lower odds. If you think I’m doing this just to make him more angry then you are incorrect.”

Sunny shook her head quickly, “I don’t think you mean to do it out of spite! You seem to really care about his well-being and I think that’s pretty honorable of you.”

“I don’t do it for praise, although it’s kind of you to give it. My loyalty is unwavering and I will do what I need to do to make sure everyone is set straight.”

Clicks chuckled slightly, “What he should be saying is, he wants to be a good friend. And indeed he is so. I don’t know where I’d be without this guy.”

“You’d be canoodling with that girlfriend of yours. Oh wait, you still do.”

“We broke up a few days ago, I forgot to tell you.” Clicks grimaced as he drank the last of his drink, “Another, Red?”

“Well color me surprised, Clicks. Who would have thought you’d break up with her for the..what? Twentieth time?”

As Red rushed over to fill the drink Click cleared his throat, “I stopped counting after twelve.”

“Honestly, it’s a bit much don’t you think?” Sugar started but before he could dive into a lecture…

Jingle~!

“Afternoon, beautifuls.”

“Zen!”

He waved unenthusiastically as he headed towards the bar, “Sorry, Red. I should have called. I slept in. Thanks for holding down the fort.”

“No problem, boss! Could you help me out with Cannon’s order, though? He’s got a table of seven in the back.”

Zen nodded and started filling the order, Sugar watching him closely, “And?”

“And what?” The bartender replied flatly.

“Were things resolved?”

As he finished the drinks Zen walked towards Sugar and Clicks, “She stayed the night with me.” His hand smoothed over the counter as reminders of the night before caused him to smile a bit.

Sugar let in a deep inhale and exhaled it slowly, “You’re an idiot.” His smile faded as he looked back up, “I’m aware.”

Clicks leaned forward, “Are you okay?”

Zen shrugged his shoulders as he looked around the lively establishment. Everyone seemed happy as the day continued for them normally but he felt more confused than ever. He sighed and poured himself a shot, taking it quickly before Sugar could scold him, “Honestly, Clicks, I don’t know.”

let the tags begin! @illneverrecover @zenscrotch @serensama @suzunesays @sinfulinsecret

#mystic messenger #Eros Bar AU #mystic messenger AU #mystic messenger fanfiction #mm fanfiction #Zen #Hyun Ryu #Saeyoung Choi #Seven #Unknown #Saeran Choi #Jumin Han #V #Jihyun Kim

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harmless-offering · 7 years

Text

"Excuse me." Joan waited for a second then frowned, lifting her arm and waving it above her head. "*Excuse* me!"

"I heard you the first time," griped the old man, shuffling across the floor towards her. He looked about as happy to be there as she was, which didn't say much. "What do you *want*?"

*Good customer service* thought Joan, and wisely chose not to say it.

"I need, uh, a thing for my mother." Under his withering glance she dug into her pocket, retrieving a crumpled scrap of paper that she smoothed out over the counter, squinting at. "She wants, uhm..."

"Well, spit it *out*," he grumbled, leaning on his cane.

"She wants this," she tried, giving up trying to make out her own writing and pushing the paper towards him. He squinted down, then looked back at her.

"This is terrible handwriting," he informed her.

"Sorry?" she suggested, more than a little offended by this observation, true though it was.

"No, really." He tapped the paper with one finger and frowned at her. "You should try *harder*, Joan."

She stared at him. He stared back.

"Aren't you omnipotent?" she demanded. "Can't you *read* it anyway?"

"Can *you*?"

"Nice," Joan snapped, crossing her arms. "Don't you have something more *important* to be doing than criticizing my penmanship? A plague, maybe? An earthquake? *Killer whales*?"

"You should work on your handwriting," God told her, and tapped the paper again. "Try writing a letter once in a while."

"A *letter*?" she demanded in disbelief. "What *is* this, the dark ages?"

"Write a letter, Joan," He repeated, turning and shuffling towards the back.

"What about the thing my mother wants?" she yelled, frustrated. He raised one hand, and waggled his fingers at her.

Joan snorted out her nose, and slumped against the counter.

"Some help you are!" she yelled after him. "You couldn't even give me the burrito first?!"

She paused, leaning down to squint at the scribble note.

"That *is* what it says, right?"

===

"Earth to Giradi!" Grace leaned in, waving her hand in front of Joan's face. "Are you *with* us, yet?"

"What?" Joan looked up, a little dazed. She held a pen in one hand and had been staring at a blank sheet of paper.

"Obviously *not*," grunted her friend, leaning back in the chair. "What are we even *doing* here?"

"Sorry," Joan uttered, making an effort to tune back in. "I was-- uh-- distracted...?"

"Oh, really?" demanded Grace sarcastically, and rolled her eyes at Adam. "Back me up here, will you? This is completely irresponsible behaviour from our great group leader, right?"

"I dunno." Adam looked back to the table, tearing his gaze away from the window, and gave a little shrug. "I'm sure whatever it is, it's important."

"I give up." Grace threw her arms in the air. "You're both hopeless."

"Hey!" Joan protested, irritation showing in her tone. "I don't *want* to do this."

"The assignment or the-- other thing?" Adam asked.

"Both," she griped, and sighed. "I have to write a letter, okay?" She threw the pen down and flopped back in her chair, groaning loudly. "Who even *writes* letters?"

"Your parents making you?" asked Grace.

"Something like that," she muttered, reluctantly.

"Who to?" Adam asked, tilting his head.

Joan hesitated.

"I don't know," she admitted finally, and ran her hands through her hair. "I can't even pick *that*!"

"I'm sure there's *plenty* of people that would just *love* a letter from you," Grace snorted. "Some doddering old grandmother locked away in some institution somewhere? An old boyfriend?"

The temperature in the room dropped several degrees.

"I gotta go," said Adam, standing up and swiping his stuff off the table into his bag.

"Adam, wait!" Joan jumped to her feet, reaching in his general direction.

He hesitated, turned, and shrugged vaguely.

"See you," he uttered at the both of them, and closed the door after him. Joan turned on Grace, frustrated.

"Thanks a lot!"

"What?" demanded the blonde, not about to back down *now*. "It's not like I said his *name*, is it."

"Ughhhhhhh!" Joan groaned, and collapsed back into her chair, thumping her face against her arms.

Grace sighed.

===

Joan stood in front of the chain-link fence, and stared in at the playground. The kids didn't care she was there, or that she had been for almost quarter of an hour.

The pig-tailed girl was nowhere to be seen. Typical-- when she *wanted* God around, He had better places to be! When she wanted a plunger, he criticized her handwriting!

"Something you wanted, miss?" came a voice behind her, and she choked back a gasp as she spun around, dropping her bag in the process. A groundskeeper stared back at her, idly.

"I was looking for someone," she blurted, bending to retrieve her bag and then standing up again. Then her eyes widened. "A friend! Just a friend."

"A friend," he echoed, mildly.

She sighed.

"I'll just go," she relented, dejected, and began to skulk away.

"You give up so easily, Joan," he told her, still mildly. "Have you written the letter yet?"

"You did this on purpose!" she accused, spinning back around. He didn't deny it. "And *no*-- I don't even know who to write it to!"

"Do you really have that many options?"

"That's real nice," she snapped, shifting her bag on her shoulder. "Grace said I should write to an ex-boyfriend. Adam ran out. Thanks a *lot* for that one, really."

"Free will, Joan." He tilted His head. "Do you *have* any ex-boyfriends?"

She flushed-- with shame, or maybe irritation.

"Was this your plan all along? To get me to write to Ramsay? Didn't I do *enough* already?"

"Is that who you *want* to write to?"

"I don't want to write to anyone! You're *making* me!"

God sighed, and raked up a few leaves. It was a pretty lazy gesture.

"Joan," he told her, patiently. "People write letters for a lot of reasons."

"Mostly because you owe them something," she muttered. He gave her a look, and she rolled her eyes. "You were saying?"

"I can't *make* you do anything," he reminded her.

"Then I'm leaving," she interrupted, flatly.

He smiled, vaguely amused.

"I'll see you around, Joan."

===

And she was still determined not to write a dumb letter, even when she walked in the door. By the time she reached her bedroom, any and all resolve she had was gone.

Joan sighed and flopped down on her bed. She grabbed a pen, some paper, and rolled onto her stomach, poised to begin.

*Dear Ramsay*

Yes, that was a solid start. A good, solid beginning to a good, solid letter. And it was even readable! Time for a break!

Joan sighed again.

*Hey? How are you?*

"In prison," she muttered in answer to her own question, rolled her eyes, and tore the paper off. The guy had *anger issues*, what kind of stupid question was *that*? He'd be lucky if he wasn't-- wasn't *shanked* or something.

*Dear Ramsay* she tried again. *It's Joan.*

"He's going to *realize* that," she corrected herself, irritated, and threw that sheet away too. She lay there, tapping her pen against her lip. There was a thought, lurking at the back of her mind.

*I was thinking of you* she tried, and another piece of paper went sailing away. No *way* he wasn't getting the wrong idea if she lead with that!

Joan rolled onto her back, and stared at the ceiling. It seemed like a lifetime before that they had gone to the prom-- and she hadn't even *known* him that well to begin with.

She knew he used to be friends with Adam, but Adam wasn't ever going to talk to her about *that*, and Grace refused to get involved. Joan wondered if Ramsay had always been that angry. She couldn't imagine Adam being friends with the Ramsay she knew any more than she could imagine Grace in a dress.

But then she thought about how awkward he'd looked trying to put the tie on, and how he'd smiled shyly when he'd dipped her in the dance.

She'd asked him to do it again, and she'd fallen over, and then everything had gone *wrong*. It didn't matter what *could* have happened, because she'd seen what *did*-- and there she was, in the middle of it, unable to stop anything or fix anything or *change* anything.

It was all still wrong.

She rolled onto her stomach, and chewed her lip as she stared at the paper. She could still see the faint indents of the previous letters, marring the page but definitely legible, and when she began again, she wrote very slowly.

*Dear Ramsay* Joan wrote, and for a long time, she just stared. Then, *I'm sorry I couldn't save you.*

This time, she didn't throw the paper away.

#joan of arcadia

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nchyinotes · 6 years

Text

AdWeek 2018 - GDPR Sessions

March 22 2018

GDPR Threat Versus Global Privacy Reality

Speakers:

Catherine Armitage: Senior Public Affairs Manager, World Federation of Advertisers

Dan Burdett: Head of EMEA Marketing Lab, eBay

William Long: Partner, Sidley Austin

Angelika Westphal: GDPR Marketing Lead Europe, Mondelez International

Notes:

eBay: we need to do a lot of organisation for management of data, because we are a business that really runs on data

AI powers a lot of decision making - ie. patterns between buyer/seller data for best search results/items to come up

a lot of data we have has been v unstructured - so now a big effort to create a taxonomy, structure it so we can compare

moving from listing base search results to a product graph —> seamless search, you just get the product you want + similar or accessories

Have been preparing for GDPR since 2016, auditing all departments around the world, use cases on all gaps (privacy teams), gap analysis. Since may 2017 have been working to close all the gaps to make sure its compliant.

We have binding corporate rules in place since 2012 - minimise risk faced by GDPR

binding corporate rules: way company can get their practices approved by regulators. data can be transferred from europe etc

GDPR is a forcing function basically

you’ve got to be doing right by your customers

impact on consumers and trust - less financially tangible impact, reputation of brand & business > fines

mondelez:

more classical FMCG company, data has always been at the heart because all campaigns are rooted in it + actionable insights

what type of data points do we have, how do we capture them? a lot of it is sitting in different departments/silos (like ebay)

GDPR is not just an administrative burden, but an opportunity to build more trust - important as marketing function

also started preparing in 2016, cross functional project team started in 2017, currently closing off all efforts (mapping, reviewing systems)

Data is a valuable asset in communicating to consumers in a meaningful way

william

fines are a huge driver

Will mean a much greater discussion between groups/departments in company, any campaigns involving big data will involve legal team ? much more emphasis in beginning of process, rather than at the end (privacy by design)

e-privacy regulation - not really talked about in general media, directly aimed at electronic comms

belgium - still sorting out what the regulator will look like with its new powers

top 3 concerns among marketing firms, in a survey: trust, brand reputation, consumers trust with brand —> all about trust

mechanisms, standards, industry codes

no benchmarking about how GDPR will pan out once it’s live - year after they go live is v important for everyone

examples of campaigns using insights from aggregated data sets to inform creative, in last 12 months:

campaign in australia by snickers

found that certain mood types (anger, annoyance) lead to certain snacks behaviours

used twitter to scrape emotional sentiment of australia for 3 months

reduced price of snickers when the sentiment monitored was predominantly was angry

campaign by links (??): is it okay for …

about masculinity today

aggregated search data from google, on topics that were front of mind for guys today. -- used common searches by guys that start with “is it okay for…”

spotify took commonly created playlists to create engaging outdoor campaigns - it’s the end of the world as we know it song (brexit?? we’re still here for you)

Possibility of moving away from really personalised approach using personal data, and using aggregated/pseudonymous data?

trying to look for other types of data sets that are more anonymous?

how should this function be split between marketing and legal?

Both ebay and mondelez have privacy champions from every function, who are the first line of defence - all are trained by privacy team in easy non technical questions

important for all depts to own the solution

But all have a privacy team that work on the issue predominantly

will definitely change brand/industry etc, but not sure if GDPR itself will genuinely change consumers behaviour.

but news may have higher impact, facebook in the press - will that affect people’s decisions in opting in, does the drop off rate look significant?

there should be enough of a movement that requests will come of GDPR

giving people their rights - right of erasure, portability. will we be exercising them? who knows

legitimate interest

in e privacy - you cannot use it for new cookie law.

not really about “can we being doing this with the info”, but should we.

about customer trust. - ethical questions being asked over time, not as much about lawyers to answer, but business.

eBay: a lot of unsupervised algorithms send out the emails ??

does future DPA have to be trained in data ethics as well, and not just the law?

What does GDPR mean for your business?

Speakers:

Somer Simpson: Lead Product Manager, Quantcast

Struan Bartlett: Founder & CEO, NewsNow.co.uk

Notes:

quantcast has been working with IAB to work on the framework for 3 months - publishers, advertisers, tech, mar/adtech companies came to a consensus

gdpr overview

universal truths:

1) consumers have a right to privacy - we’re all consumers, we don’t want our privacy to be abused

2) a free press is not free - in order for consumers to continue to have access they want/need to news/info, publishers need to have a way to pay for that (ie. digital advertising)

—> Need to balance: 1) consumers privacy rights & access to content, with 2) publisher ability to create & monetise content

—> business as usual is not an option (the wild west)

background

1) strengthens data protection for individuals

2) regulates the processing of personal data (including online identifiers) by companies

3) harmonizes data protection regulation in the EU

4) EU regulation with global impact (so any company with traffic from the EU)

themes

1) privacy by design - put privacy first in the way you develop all mechanisms

2) transparency about data practices - consumers need to know who is tracking them and for what purpose

3) choice and control over personal data

transparency, choice and control

GDPR expands the definition and regulates the processing of personal data

consent is one of 6 legal grounds for processing personal data (not always needed)

current privacy directive (cookie directive requires consent to set a cookie, access or store info on device - most cookie based data collection for advertising will require GDPR consent)

GDPR changes the consent standard under the ePrivacy directive

what is consent?

freely given, specific, informed, unambiguous indication of agreement by statement or by a clear affirmative action

robust info disclosure requirements - identifying data controllers and purposes

companies must be able to demonstrate consent through a record

easily revocable by consumer - clear, persistent ability to access and change their stuff

publishers

in the way it’s written, publishers are controllers

more responsibility

transparency for you and your users

opportunity from choice - to understand who your partners have relationships with, who they have relationships with, etc.

opp to understand who all is playing in the area and how that might impact revenue.

balancing revenue needs with transparency, control and understanding of who’s playing in your playground and how to control that

potential revenue impact

advertisers

transparency + consent for your websites and apps

retargeting, behavioural targeting - needs consent for cookies and pixels on your own site that allow that to happen

transparency + consent for your campaigns

3rd party providers hired for additional campaign info

have direct convos with publishers, this is who i work with, this is important to me, build up that list

adtech

we are why we are here

step up to do what’s right for the whole ecosystem

consumer rights

partner with publishers

revenue implications

we all make money off services we provide for advertisers/publishers

should i stay or should i go?

opportunity to clean up and build trust

industry transparency & consent framework

common industry standards: fragmentation will lead to inefficient and poor consumer experiences

effective efficient, neutral industry governance

simple policies around use of the new technical standards to ensure mutual trust and reassurance

core elements (of quantcast choice)

industry wide standard where digital content and ecosystems work together

open source, non commercial - for good of industry and consumer

publisher centric tool, giving transparency, control and flexibility to publishers

pro consumer tool, providing transparency, choice and control

quantcast choice

3rd party management - options for managing list of companies that can track consumers through a publisher’s site

customisable UX

easy implementation

free

important for quantcast/industry to get a solution out there with lots of adoption, so that business is disrupted as little as possible (taking weight off publishers, continuing to connect advertisers with consumers)

q&a

online behavioural advertising probably under a lot of pressure

“potentially an ass covering activity"

minefield of vagueness and uncertainty

nobody is really ready for this (DPAs), some legal advisors saying it’s not possible to comply totally?

PR advantage - credibility, trust, buy in from users

top 3 concerns from publishers

1) cost of everything - appointing DPA, legal counsel, advice fees

2) potential reputational damage for breaches (that may not be their fault - upstream parties that you don’t know, we have no idea who’s running what code. when people misbehave in that ecosystem, publishers are the one that takes the hit.)

3) not being ready in time + having systems in place (ie. basis on which you are processing some personal data - you decide it’s consent based, and later on want to switch to legit interest?? v tricky if impossible to do)

programmatic advertising - so many unknowns, we are only as ready as the industry partners we’re working with. we need ssp's, analytics suppliers to be ready.

working out what we need to rely on to get legitimate consent, how to best secure consent

where can we do without personal data altogether?

not just a UX thing, but a industry problem on how they’re actually using this data

bundling consent under very broad headings - agree on a common set of purposes where they are considered compliant, but not too many ??

Questioning partnerships: do we really want these people to be mentioned/shown on our website? is that good for our brand?

we don’t even know how much of our revenue currently depends on personal data - to quantify risk

#2018 #london #tech #advertising #law #GDPR #event

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pretty-prima-blog · 7 years

Text

Ahern and Associates Tackles Ethics in Business

New Post has been published on http://app2chart.com/ahern-and-associates-tackles-ethics-in-business/

Ahern and Associates Tackles Ethics in Business

How many times have you said, what happened to the good old days? How many times do you wish that life was simpler? When things are bad, have you reflected on the days of Ozzy and Harriet, I Love Lucy, The Ed Sullivan Show,and Alfred Hitchcock? Those were times when life was much simpler and less complicated. It was a time that relationships, commitment, loyalty, integrity and ethics defined who a person was and what a business was. It was a time when;

If you gave your word, regardless of the consequences, you lived up to your commitment.

It was a time that friendships and trust were built over time, and;

Those friendships and trust continued for many years.

Regardless if there was “a new guy in town”. In the old days, when a person shook your hand and you had a deal, you had a deal;

You didn’t need a fancy contract with every escape clause imaginable.

You didn’t need a string of attorney’s to write the contract so ambiguously that it could be interpreted in 18 different foreign languages, and;

Business ethics and integrity were the foundation of the relationship.

If you entered into a contract and it did not turn out as anticipated, you still honored those conditions because you gave your word.What happened to those days? What happened to honesty, integrity and loyalty? Why did business become so complicated that a deal is only a deal until the deal changes, regardless of the contractual terms? When did the business environment change to a point where people and relationships were not the foundation of a business?

What happened to shipper loyalty? With everything else in life, business cultures evolved; people evolved. Somewhere along the line, something happened to change the dynamics of the foundation of which our country was built upon.

I have been “blessed” in my business, to have relationships with many companies for 20+ years. Those customers (regardless of the circumstances) lived up to the terms and conditions of our agreement, regardless of the financial impact. Those customers are successful, today, because they instill their value systems to their employees and family members.

We have all had our experiences and our disappointments with customers and employees, and we’ve all dealt with the frustration and anger when that person, or that company, violated our trust.

Recently, somebody told me I was a dinosaur and I took that with great pride. That person stated, “You don’t have to like someone to do business with them”. In fact, he went on to say, “whether you believe that an individual is ethical or not, if you can perform the service, you should take that person’s money, but you won’t and that’s why you’re not a good business man.”

I thought about his comments for a long time and then recognized that we all have value systems that we have to live by, whether it’s on a professional or personal level;

I’ve always believed that once you make a commitment, regardless of the circumstances, you need to live up to that commitment, and;

If somebody violates your trust, then you must re-evaluate the relationship.

Why did the business environment change so dramatically? Why has value systems changed so dramatically? I believe the answer is—-business today has become much less personal. Communication is via;

Email.

Facsimile.

Teleconferencing.

When you try to contact a customer, a perspective customer or a large corporation, you get a response from a machine, then a response from another machine, then a response from another machine and then you get a response on a voicemail. If you try to file a medical claim, you speak to a machine that refers you to another machine, that puts you on hold for a half an hour, and then you speak to another robot. After an 1 hour or 2 of trying to accomplish a task of finding a status report on a claim, you still haven’t talked to a “living person”.

What I recognized is that our environment has become more impersonal which impacts the way we conduct business and the way we live our lives. We have also become more guarded. People don’t trust people the way they used to; people violate trust on a daily basis and justify it because of circumstances. Pressures to succeed are so intense, that (sometimes) ethics, integrity and loyalty are cast aside to earn that extra dollar.

Our personal and business lives have evolved to be, so;

Competitive.

Driven, and;

Materialistic, that many of the things that are truly important have been forgotten.

I’m not saying that this is in all cases, If you look at many of privately held family companies today, they’ve built their business and continued to build their business based upon honesty, integrity and loyalty. If you look at companies such as CRST, C.R. England, Crete Carriers, PAM Transportation, Warren Transport – these businesses have been built the old fashion way. Block by block, brick by brick, commitment by commitment, with loyalty, integrity and honesty.

The moral to the story is; sometimes you need to stand out from the crowd. My friend was right; I am a dinosaur. I have fired some of my clients because they breached my confidence. They breached their commitment, and/or they tried to take advantage of a situation. In some instances, it caused me a substantial monetary loss. However, at the end of the day, my grandfather instilled a very important lesson to me which was; “if a man does not keep his word, he is not a man”.

My grandfather lived to be 88 years old; some of his comments would not be politically correct today, but what he was saying is; if someone violates your trust, if someone violates your confidence, if someone violates their loyalty and commitment to you (whether they are male or female) it has a direct bearing on the relationship. The issue is how you address that breach of trust. If you accept that behavior, you are only fostering that type of behavior. If you take a stand, recognizing that it may impact you, financially and personally, you have taken the proper approach.

A person’s legacy is defined, not by how many assets they’ve accumulated, but a person’s legacy is based upon the impact they have in their community and their family. Anytime you stand out in the crowd, people may “cast” stones, make accusations and, in some instances, even attack your credibility. However, in those instances, that’s because those people do not have the fortitude to take a stand.

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thereaderscafenetwork-blog · 7 years