#this is the same fanbase that started shaking in their boots when people were questioning why everyone defaults to white for cecil its like
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hotel blue moon
"There are a lot of people in this world who deserve to die. And some thoughtful freaks kill them for us in secret. That's why clueless civilians can sleep peacefully at night, completely unaware. Which one do you think I am?"
“Which one do you think I am?"
part 2 | read on page (not for the mobile app, but prettier)
There were a lot of things Moonyoung did not enjoy doing. Smiling unnecessarily. Being touched. Having to censor her books for the general public when their intended audience had no problems with her content. Meeting with obnoxious directors of large hospital chains that took advantage of people's suffering to make billions while looking like great philanthropists.
Ham and Gam hospitals hosted the largest paediatric wards in all of South Korea, with the country's best (highest paid, inflated, overconfident) paediatric doctors and surgeons on their staff. The ugly posters of smiling doctors (couldn't they have hired models?) and smiling children with assorted bullshit statistics stared at her as she sat there, doing one thing she hated so she wouldn't have to do another thing that she, unfortunately, hated more.
The earliest reviews of Zombie Kid were not looking good. Sangin was crying or yelling every time he spoke to her. The art was too gruesome, the story was too violent—of course it was too violent for the timid reviewers that read it from the safety of newspaper positions that afforded them the right to have no critical thinking whatsoever. Themes? Metaphors? These were the people who ate Cinderella up and pretended no feet were harmed in the making of this fairytale.
Still, she had a fanbase. Her books would sell, and, per Sangin, if she went to a hospital and read her books to children who needed money and medicine and possibly new organs, everyone would clap about her good deeds and forget all about the child that ate his mother.
If that had been all, Moonyoung wouldn't have minded. She liked readings; the terrorised but delighted little eyes staring up at her, eating up every word, learning something that a good many adults would never understand. The reading of this book did not have nearly as much drama as she would like, and any more cannibalism-based artwork had been ruled out, but it was still a good read. She made chewing noises as she read, and the children were delighted.
But it was not all.
And the truly generous Ham Kojeon had then had the audacity to postpone their meeting.
Moonyoung had nearly turned around and walked for the stairs, but Sangin was getting scarily fast at keeping up with her; his arm had popped up in her way before she could take a step down, and he'd dodged when she'd gone for her purse, then said something and gone to argue with the secretary.
"The director's been called into an urgent meeting," the secretary had told Sangin half an hour ago. "But the director has arranged snacks for you in the waiting room."
The waiting room in question surrounded the director's office, separated by frosted windows that gave a nice view into the room itself. Nothing was clear, but she could just about make out a pair of nice broad shoulders walking around the room. "Oh my," she said when the shoulders visibly walked around the desk to stare down at where the director was presumably sitting. "Has he delayed us to meet with a personal guest? How impolite."
Sangin glared at her. On the other side, his makeshift assistant giggled into her folder.
"Well, maybe I should go join them. Better view from inside. I deserve some entertainment too if he's going to keep me waiting."
Sangin hissed something about the people listening, even though it was just them and the director's secretary. Moonyoung rolled her eyes and turned away. Sometimes—just sometimes—she almost wished she valued her creative autonomy less than she did.
She shifted to relieving her frustration with all of this by grinding the metal heel of her boot into the metal leg of the chair and enjoying Sangin wincing every time she did it. The trick to something like that was variation. A few seconds of relief meant he wasn't expecting it when—
A thin distant alarm bell began to peal throughout the building, and Moonyoung laughed. "Can this day get any worse?"
Sangin groaned. "Wait a minute, let me go find out what's happened. Don't go anywhere!" he commanded, then gave the art director a look that said make sure she doesn't go anywhere. Then he ran off, presumably to interrogate someone poorly.
Moonyoung gave it a second, then got up and left. "Ms. Ko!" Poor little Seungjae called, but didn't make to follow. Moonyoung ignored her and went down the stairs. If nothing else, she needed a smoke break, especially if she was really expected to shake hands with Ham Kojeon after this.
She was halfway down the stairs when she saw it; a man in a patient's uniform dragging a child into what looked like a supplies closet. She followed at some distance, eyes narrowing, mind whirring uncomfortably. The girl was crying, but the alarm bells were loud enough on this floor that she wasn't audible over them—was that smoke she smelled? Had the man taken advantage of the fire, or had he started it?
When she slipped into the still-open closet door, the man was on his knees in front of the sobbing girl. "I'm your father!" he insisted. "I'm really your father! Why are you crying?"
"My father's dead!" the girl was repeating, eyes screwed shut, "You're not my father!"
"Listen to Daddy! I'm not dead! We both have to go together, do you hear me? Children can't live alone without their parents, that's why we both have to go at the same time!"
Moonyoung clicked her tongue. "What is this? Some kind of personality disorder? Delusions? I didn't realise it was that kind of hospital." She did hope the contempt came through. It worked; the man dropped the girl's arms, and turned to glare at her.
"Who the hell are you?" the man's voice faded between ordinary and not-quite-ordinary. Moonyoung frowned despite herself as his face seemed to shudder into something grotesque for a second—but when she blinked, it was just a grey-haired man with yellowing teeth. "This is between me and my daughter! Stay out of this!"
"She said she isn't your daughter," Moonyoung said. "If you want to die, die alone. If you want to live, don't steal others' children."
The man scrambled off his feet and came towards her. "Do you want to die? What the hell do you know? This is my daughter, and I'll do whatever the hell I like."
"Hearing problem?" she yelled, making an exaggerated gesture towards her ear. "I said, she—"
The man lunged towards her, and she slammed the hard end of her purse into his face, knocking him clean to the ground. The purse flew open, and her knife—too pretty for this place, with its carved handle and its surgical sharp tip—flew out of it to land somewhere beyond the man's hand.
He reared towards it, but he was on the ground, she was faster, and she stamped on his hand, keeping him from reaching the knife, and kicked it out of the way but somehow the man was up again. He jumped, and reached for her throat, grabbing her in a violent choke and banging her head onto the tile. A storage shelf crashed to the ground somewhere behind him. Her legs froze. The hands on her throat went from warm to cool to warm to cool to warm. "Die! Die! Why won't you just die!" a familiar face screamed. Hair floated in her vision, and the face blurred out.
The pressure on her throat lifted abruptly. She grabbed at her throat, air coming in way too fast, the imprint of cold—cold? warm—no—they had been cold, hadn't they?—hands around her throat still stinging, along with every uncomfortable nightmare they drew up.
When her vision re-adjusted, the man was wrestling with another man in a waistcoat. Consciousness returned. She was in Ham and Gam hospital. She was awake. She was an adult. And a piece of shit had just—fucking—strangled her—
She got to her feet and grabbed the knife.
Waistcoat had won, but that didn't help her. "I'll kill you all! All of you!" the man was shouting, even on the ground and clearly restrained by something. Her ears were still buzzing; the man's voice phased again, into something wrong, before it came back.
She lifted her arm, and brought the knife down—
It was a sharp knife. Moonyoung always ate her steak rare, red and raw enough to bleed if she cut into it too quickly—tough enough that no dull knife would cut through cleanly, without ugly ragged edges. This knife cut through her meat perfectly, even with little pressure. That was why she liked it.
It sliced cleanly through flesh, catching on bone too tough for it. She felt the fingers that closed around the knife in her own grip on it, surprisingly sensory. Blood dripped down a forearm and stained the cuff of a sleeve.
Waistcoat stared at her, and she stared back.
"I'd appreciate if you stayed out of this," she said.
The man with the knife currently embedded in his palm said, "Do you know how difficult it is to get stains out of a suit like this?"
"Are you with the hospital?" she asked. "There's a vermin infestation. I was just helping." she glanced down at the man whose arms were bound behind his back —by what, she couldn't see. He started shouting again as he realised her meaning, then promptly fainted, mid-word. She frowned, about to say something, when Waistcoat wrenched the knife from her palm, wringing his arm like a dog shaking water out of its fur. Little drops of blood landed around her heels. He began to wrap a bright silk handkerchief around the knife.
Moonyoung scoffed. "What, is the knife hurt? Why are you wrapping that around the knife?"
He didn't respond. She opened her palm in front of him. He looked up—finally. "Your hand," she said, "not the knife."
Waistcoat smiled. "Haven't you injured me enough right now?" he asked, and slipped the bandaged knife into his pocket.
"That's mine. "
"You tried to kill someone with it," he said.
She shrugged. "If he's Non-Compos Mentis, I can say I acted in self-defense. I was only going to give him a small cut with the knife, but you overreacted and injured yourself," she said, placing her unnerving smile on her lips. The man's lips quirked up, too—he had little dimples at the very corners, which made the smile far too cheerful for his otherwise unsmiling face.
"It landed in my palm, so it's mine now," he said, then cocked his head. "That was a lot of power for a small cut."
She smiled, and grabbed a handkerchief from her own purse. "There are a lot of people in this world who deserve to die," she said, grabbing his palm—apparently, she hadn’t injured him enough just yet. She began to wrap that around his hand, and it stained the red immediately, creating a deep blush in the center—blood in blood. "And some thoughtful freaks kill them for us in secret. That's why clueless civilians can sleep peacefully at night, completely unaware." She tugged the handkerchief shut, smiling when he shuddered. "Which one do you think I am?"
Waistcoat's smile widened. He looked to the unconscious man on the ground, then to his hand, and then to her. "Just a clueless civilian,” he said, after she had stabbed him clean through the palm, held hard enough that the steak knife would go through skin and artery easier than meat. “But which one do you think I am?"
#kdramanetwork#psycho but it's okay#it's okay not to be okay#it's okay to not be okay#pbio#mine#minefic#pbiofic#im so excited about this little plot bunny hehe#it's based on hotel delluna but like. soohyun's little cameo at the end there#significant credit for the idea goes to that manwol/moonyoung fmv on youtube#ik kangtae seems a little ooc. that's because he's hundreds(?) years old and has had some personality changes#i had fun writing this so i hope anyone who reads has fun with it too#pbio fic
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Caught in a Blizzard - Part 1
Summary: Luna is going to perform at the Graham Norton show, but little did she know that Chris Evans is going to be a guest as well.
Pairing: Chris Evans x Luna Hwang (Asian OFC)
Warnings: Mentions about sex and some alcohol
Wordcount: 4.5k
A/N: if you want to be on the taglist, just let me know! Also, I love to read your guys’ thoughts and feedback xx
Masterlist // Introduction // Part 2
Tonight I’m the musical guest on the Graham Norton show and I was too lazy to check who were going to be the other guests. I mean, I was severely jet lagged and a bit hungover, because they were serving some real good wine on the airplane and I might have finished an entire bottle and then some more sips from another bottle.
Normally my new agent Gia would be with me when I go to these types of things, to make sure everything is handled correctly and I’m up to date to the most important things, but since she has come down with a flu, just like her two youngest kids, she obviously stayed in New York. She told me I would be doing fine, however I wished that she was with me now, because she could’ve told me that finishing that entire bottle of wine myself wasn’t exactly a good idea (I have no self control, that’s obvious) and mentally prepare me for the other guests.
Now I have exactly five minutes to prepare myself, because I have wasted at least thirty with hyperventilating.
Because of the tough weather, Viola Davis couldn’t be here unfortunately, which is a shame, because she herself is a whole new level of awesome. But on the couch sits the queen herself Reese Witherspoon and THE handsome ass Chris Evans is there as well!
I mean, I obviously have an unhealthy crush on him, because who wouldn’t? He is handsome, he is funny and he is exactly the type of man that I’d like to drag in my bed for some mature activities. Seeing him sitting right there, makes my heart do all sorts of different things. And I realize that when I’m going to join them, I have to sit next to him. I have to sit next to the man who thought that wearing grey plaid pants and a fitted sweater would be appropriate.
Normally I would’ve known who the guests are on the shows that I perform at when I was still with my group Brave Elegance, because we had agents and a few members that actually listened to them when stuff like this was being told. I relied on them mostly, because I was making sure I could perfect my performance, by practicing the dance moves and hum out my rap. Now I’m all by myself and the first time Gia is supposed to be with me, she is sick.
And now I have to eat up the consequences of my own stupid choices.
I wish there was a guide available, that could help me out with one of the biggest problems I have ever encountered in my life: how to NOT embarrass yourself in front of the Chris Evans?
‘So, I have a question,’ Graham Norton starts. ‘Our musical guest Luna is backstage and—’ The audience erupts into a loud applause and whistles. ‘Goodness me, I wasn’t even finished yet!’
The crowd starts to laugh and from the looks of it, Reese Witherspoon and Chris Evans are amused. I take another sip of my water, because my throat feels painfully dry.
‘What I was going to ask is if you two had heard from her,’ Graham continues.
‘I do, actually,’ Reese says. ‘My daughter was a huge fan of hers back when she was in Brave Elegance. I went to three concerts of them actually.’
‘Oh, so you know quite a bit about her?’ Graham asks.
Reese nods. ‘Yes, I do. Back when she was in the band, my daughter was such a big fan of hers. Even had posters of her in her room. I do know that she is really killing the game with her solo projects.’
‘She totally is,’ Chris Evans says. ‘I downloaded her album the second it came out. I loved it.’
I think I forget how to breath. He downloaded my album? Holy crap, this isn’t helping with my nerves.
‘Really?’ Graham asks. ‘I never thought you were the type of guy that would listen to her songs, if I’m being honest.’
‘Well, my niece was a Fairy once, so I knew about the existence of them and heard some songs. But I only started to get really invested in their music during their Golden Globe performance, little did I know that that was going to be one of their last performances. A shame really, I was ready to become a Fairy.’
The Chris Evans Captain America Chris Evans was ready to become part of the fanbase? Oh shit, is this how it feels to have an out of body experience? How am I supposed to act normal after this?’
‘Really?’ Graham asks with a smile. ‘Well lucky you then that she is going to perform here.’
A woman ushers me with her and I follow her through the tiny halls. It’s nearly time for me to get on stage, but how am I going to deal with this? The sound is pretty loud, so I continue to hear what is being said.
‘She has something,’ Reese continues. ‘Like she forces you to watch her. My daughter once showed me a compilation of her on the X-Factor and I was genuinely impressed. She was only seventeen and knew exactly how to pull the audience in. Amazing.’
‘Please, everybody, please give it up for the one and only Luna!’
The audience start to clap and whistle, causing me to smile. I always love it when I hear the whistles and the screams of fans. Graham holds out his hand and I kindly take it, but all of the sudden I feel a little self-conscious about my tight red dress and my over knee boots, but I can’t change now. I must hold my breath the entire time I’m sitting my ass on that couch.
I shake hands with Reese Witherspoon, who compliments me on my outfit and tells me I’m so pretty. Why is this woman such a nice lady?
I quickly wipe my palm when I have to shake Chris Evans’ hand. When I’m with my producers or even back when I was still with the girls from Brave Elegance, I’d tell them how Chris Evans literally bite me wherever he wants, choke me during sex and that every hole I have is right there for him to use.
Now I’m standing in front of him and those things have turned into nothing but idle talk.
I somehow manage to extend my hand without shaking like an idiot an he holds mine in his large one. Oh my, those fingers… Imagine them insi— No, Luna, don’t even go there. You are in public!
‘It’s so nice to meet you, Luna,’ he says with a charming smile and me knees nearly give out. His eyes are glued on me and oh my, he is even more handsome from up close.
‘Yeah, it’s nice to meet you too.’ Okay, good, I managed to say seven words to him, in an acceptable order. Progress!
I sit on the left end of the couch, next to Chris Evans and I sure hope the microphone doesn’t pick up on my heartbeat, since I can feel it beating with a force that it actually hurts me.
‘Luna, I’m so happy that you’re here,’ Graham says.
‘Thank you for having me.’
‘Are you excited?’
I nod. ‘This is my first solo interview on television, so I’m a bit nervous, but other than that, I’m very excited. I just hope that I won’t say anything stupid.’
‘You probably won’t,’ Graham says and I don’t feel necessarily assured. ‘I have to say, Luna, you are such an interesting woman.’
‘Is that good or bad?’ I ask.
‘Well, I mean,’ he says, looking at his cards. ‘At the young age of seventeen, you participate in the X-Factor, didn’t win, but did gain four friends. Is it hard to now do your own stuff?’
I think well about this question. Our disbandment was quite messy, though the public doesn’t know about that. The reason we split up was because of the amounts of jealousy between the members and… Me actually. I miss my members every single day and I wish that they were here with me. But I have to realize, that the disbandment was all my fault and if I was just a team player back then, I would still have them around me.
‘It’s hard to be by myself, sometimes. I mean, I have dancers with me, but… It’s different. It can’t be compared to being with four amazingly talented girls with the same dream. So yeah, it’s hard, because I have to figure out how I’m going to do it alone. We were together for six years non stop, so it’s kinda weird.’
‘Your disbandment came as a huge surprise. Did you guys knew that you were going to disband soon?’
‘Well, 2018 was really a rollercoaster of a years and the after shocks of that, went with us to 2019. We were all kind of struggling with our psychical and mental health. I won’t really go into details for the rest of the girls, but I was hospitalized for two months, because I totally overworked myself. Being in a group is hard work and our record label was really putting a lot of pressure on us and after six years, it can be hard to keep up. So, our last two performances… We didn’t really say that it were the last, but deep down we all pretty much knew, you know?’
‘Right… You are the only one that is continuing in the music industry. How come?’
‘Well,’ I say, ‘it’s the only thing I’m good at and I love to do it. I love interacting with fans, being on stage. My new record label is really laid back and they continue to say that we are going at my pace, that my health is the most important and I shouldn’t overwork myself ever, so that really is comforting and I know it’s for the best.’
Graham nods and asks: ‘Did you know that Chris Evans was ready to become a Fairy?’
I shake my head. ‘No, I didn’t.’
‘Tell us, Chris, what was your favorite song and maybe Luna can sing a bit for you.’
I’m going to fucking vomit. Is this truly happening? I bet Gia is watching this right now (or tomorrow, since she is still sick) and she is going to laugh her ass off, just like all the producers and God who knows. I just know.
I carefully look to the side and see Chris Evans smirking. Seeing it in gifs is such an experience, but seeing it in real life… Goodness me.
‘I truly loved ‘You Know, He Did It Too’, especially because it showed how society is really fucked up. It takes two people, but of course only the woman in this story gets the blame, which is not fair.’
‘I’m not going to sing that,’ I say to Graham. ‘Or rap my part.’
‘Why not?’
‘Because…’ I can’t even think of a very good reason to not do it.
‘Come on,’ he coaxes me. ‘When can you say that you rapped in front of Chris Evans? Captain America!’
I sigh, knowing I can’t get out of this.
Remember Bieber, had that fever?
You tiny man, you fucked it up
You should come clean
No need to fake
Your fiancé leave you no matter what
So be a man, suck it up
Take the blame, she ain’t alone.
You little fucker, just spit it out
We do this over and over
Till we fucked up your entire career
‘Damn!’ Graham exclaims. ‘We all watched the news obviously and knew what happened, but you really didn’t hold back with the rap.’
‘Well, funny story,’ I say, ‘originally we wanted the song to be a diss track to society, for only blaming the girl. But then he released a statement, saying that he had nothing to do with it, that she was seducing him and basically that it wasn’t his fault. So that’s when I got mad and changed the entire rap.’
‘Dragging him,’ Chris Evans adds.
I chuckle, feeling all too happy that I can agree with Chris Evans on this. ‘Yeah, dragging him.’
‘I love this,’ Graham says. ‘So, you were just out of high school when you auditioned for X-Factor.’
‘Right,’ I say.
‘You wrote all your raps by yourself. Did you write songs back then?’
I nod. ‘They weren’t any good. I started with really bad poetry and that turned into cringy songs, that were trying to be deep, but it high school cringe. Thanks to the mentors on the X-Factor I was taught about flow and beat and all that good stuff. So I’m really grateful for that.’
Reese says: ‘What always surprised me, was how the raps you wrote matched the songs you girls were performing. But you did that all by yourself, with some help of the mentors?’
I nod. ‘You know, our time being on the X-Factor was hard, but it was so worth it. I feel like my song writing skills have improved over time and I do hope that the album showed my best writing skills and rap skills and sing and dance.’
‘You sure did,’ Graham says. ‘Can you tell us a little about who one of your songs is inspired on?’
I shake my head. ‘My songs aren’t necessarily inspired by anyone or any event really.’ Then I realize that I’m lying. ‘Wait, that is not true. One of my songs was sort of inspired on someone.’
‘I want the details,’ Graham says without skipping a beat, ‘and I want them now. Spill.’
‘Well, Ditch The Boys, Use Your Toys is inspired on someone I had sex with, back in the X-Factor days. We were already going to the next round as Brave Elegance. I had heard some rumors that he was pretty great in bed, causing me to think that if I ever had sex with him, it was going to be mind-blowing, so I had pretty high expectations.’
Graham nods, making it obvious he is really interested in hearing the rest of the story. I look at Reese and Chris, who have amused smiles on their faces.
‘I think we were two minutes into the foreplay, when he… You know… Can I say this on television?’
The host shrugs. ‘I have no idea and I honestly don’t care. I want to know how this story ends, though I might have an idea.’
I chuckle. ‘Well, he penetrates me and I’m like, oh, okay, he really wants to have sex with me. Obviously I was a bit flattered, but I think it took less than thirty seconds before he came already and made really loud and weird noises. And I was confused, because for starters, he came real quick, but I also didn’t understand why so many girls were raving about him. Then, this guy looks me right in the eye and has the audacity to ask me if I enjoyed it as much as he did.’ My eyes widen, while I hold out my hands, as the audience starts to laugh.
‘I really want to know what you said to that,’ Chris Evans says, who seems to enjoy my story a lot.
‘So I stared at him,’ I continue my story. ‘And I said: “Well, if we were trying to be in the Guinness book of World Records for fastest male ejaculation during sexual intercourse, sure, but I wasn’t aware that we were going for a world record”.’
Graham starts to laugh, Reese places her hands on her face to hide her visible gasp and Chris Evans places his hand on his chest while he laughs, a trait that I love with all my heart.
‘But on top of that,’ I go on, ‘he got mad and said that I was an ungrateful bitch for not being happy we had sex.’
Reese scoffs. ‘What an idiot.’
‘So anyways, it was during our X-Factor days, so I got dressed and told him I was going back to my dorm and masturbate, because I obviously couldn’t count on him for some pleasure. Fast forward to two weeks later. We’re waiting for our dance training and the teacher wasn’t there yet and this time around there weren’t camera’s to film anything. So me and some other girls were chatting about orgasms and stuff like that, as one does. Since this said guy was like a few feet away from us and had been telling the other competitors that I was a slut and ungrateful and all, I decided to take my change. I say in a pretty loud voice: “Well, if you want orgasms, you have to skip on sex with… Let’s call him Peter,’—his name was Cole Springs, but I’m not totally heartless and he is doing pretty okay in the country music industry now, so I don’t want to ruin his reputation entirely—‘you have to skip on sex with Peter, because he’ll nut inside of you within thirty seconds. You better ditch that boy and use your toy, because no orgasms for you when having sex with him. So that song was heavily based on someone.’
‘I’m so glad I asked that question,’ Graham says in a giddy voice, causing the rest of the audience and Chris Evans and Reese Witherspoon to laugh as well. ‘I admire you, Luna,’ he adds. ‘You really have the guts to sing about these topics.’
Chris Evans nods. ‘I totally agree.’
‘What is in stores for Luna?’ Graham asks. ‘What can we expect?’
I lean back in the couch. What can they expect? I never thought that far ahead. I was just thinking about promotions for this album. ‘Hopefully a world tour one day,’ I say. ‘I am still working on expanding my back up crew, but I want everyone to feel represented, you know? So, that’s totally what I’m working on and for the rest… I think just more music, more controversies, because it turns out that’s what I do best.’
‘I’m here for it,’ Graham says. ‘Is it hard to sing about certain topics like sex, masturbation and female empowerment?’
I shrug. ‘I feel like someone should do it,’ I admit. ‘I know that people—especially men—have certain opinions about it, but you know… I feel that there is someone out there, that listens songs and feels a bit empowered and that’s all I care about.’
Chris nods. ‘I admire you,’ he says, causing the audience to aww. ‘I bet it can be hard sometimes.’
Are we having a moment right now? I’m lost in his eyes for a few seconds. ‘Sometimes, yeah.’
Graham interrupts this whatever it was by asking if I’m ready to perform.
‘Oh, yeah, totally am.’
‘Please give it up for Luna, who is going to sing a mashup of Inside and Silky Ribbon!’
✘ ✘ ✘
‘You have one new message,’ the robotic voice of the woman says when I want to check my voicemail on my phone. I’m at a pretty chill bar, with a nice bartender who gave me two drinks on the house already, since he liked my album and my appearance on the Graham Norton show.
‘Luna, what the actual fuck?’ Look at that. Cole Springs decided to call me. ‘Do you honestly need to tell that fucking story on television? I already got five texts from people who either ask me if this is about me or simply know it’s about me.’
I click the voicemail away mid sentence, since I really can’t use this right now. I already feel tired and like shit, no need for Cole Springs to make things even worse. ‘Could I have one more please?’ I ask with a pout, as I push my empty glass to the bartender.
‘Sure thing,’ he says. ‘Who was that on your voicemail?’
‘Cole Springs.’
‘The boyband member gone country boy?’
I nod. ‘He wasn’t all too happy I exposed him like that.’
‘That was the Peter in the story?’ The bartender’s laugh fills up the entire bar. ‘This is amazing. He looks like the type of guy that would nut in two seconds.’
I can’t help but laugh, as I feel the vodka already making me feel a bit lightheaded. That feeling however doesn’t stop me from drinking up some more. I stare outside and see that it’s snowing pretty heavily. I’m still wearing the outfit I wore to Graham Norton, but with the thickest coat worn over it. I know that I have to get back to my hotel, but for now I’ll just stall that moment and enjoy it here.
‘How long are you going to stay in London?’ the bartender asks.
‘Dunno, man. Think I’m heading home somewhere tomorrow or the day after that. I honestly don’t know. Normally Gia, my manager would be with me, but she’s sick now.’
The door opens and some guys are yelling something, but I’m too tired to look up. I place my head on my arms, hoping that I can gain some energy to go and hail a cab.
‘Hi there, can I have…’
I look up and see that Chris Evans is standing right next to me, ordering a drink. He looks really handsome, but that is pretty easy, since he is really handsome. Everything he does is simply breathtaking. I bet he has sex every weekend with someone else. I mean, I bet there is a line waiting to have sex with Captain America and I’m somewhere in that line too. ‘Hi,’ I say and he looks up, a smile appearing on his beautiful face when he recognizes me.
‘Hi, Luna, how are you?’
‘Tired and a bit annoyed though.’
‘Oh no.’ He sits on the stool next to me and his knee bumps against mine. ‘Tell me all about it.’
I start to rant about Cole Springs, exposing to Chris as well who the story was about and during that rant, I go on about my past, about the foster care system and how that is bothering me. I rub my face, not caring that my make-up is all smudged over and the alcohol that I just drank is really kicking in now.
‘I think I just have a kink for controversy, you know,’ I say, staring at me empty glass. ‘I love being in the spotlights for everything that is not exactly how it’s supposed to go. When I got arrested at that protest, boy, I liked the attention that got.’
Chris smiles. ‘Well, I hardly think what you do is that controversial. I think you are just a bit ahead of your time.’
‘That is so deep,’ I admit, absolutely in awe by him. ‘Wow, not only are you handsome, but you are pretty much an intellectual as well. You should consider writing. Bet it would be a bestseller.’
‘I think,’ Chris laughs, pulling the drink from my hands, ‘you’ve had enough to drink.’
‘No,’ I whine, but Chris gets out of his chair. ‘I’m boring you, aren’t I?’
‘Not at all, but I think you need to get back to your hotel,’ Chris says. ‘Hearing from your stories, you have to catch a flight tomorrow and I bet you don’t want to be completely hungover then.’
‘I was already hungover this morning,’ I say, sliding off the barstool. Chris holds up my coat and helps me to put it on. ‘I could use a cigarette, you know.’
‘I bet you do.’
I wrap my arm around his broad shoulders and with my other hand, I hold his face. I place my thumb on one cheek and the rest of my fingers on his other cheek. ‘You have such a beautiful face, that you could just lick and not regret it,’ I admit. ‘Has anyone told you that?’
He starts to chuckle. ‘Not with those exact words.’
‘Well,’ I continue, ‘have you ever read fan fiction about yourself?’ I don’t give him time to answer that question, as we walk out of the bar into the cold, Chris’ arm wrapped tightly around my waist. ‘I have,’ I say, ‘especially the real dirty ones. According to those stories, you know exactly how to please a woman. I bet you are really good in bed, a whole lot better than sweet Cole Springs. I bet you can last for hours.’
‘I sure hope so,’ he laughs.
‘Tell me, do you have sex with a new woman every other week? Because I was wondering that and personally, I’m gravitating towards yes, because honestly I think you are a walking sex machine.’
Chris holds out his hand to hail a cab and says: ‘No, I don’t actually. I barely have sex nowadays.’
‘Shut up!’ I yell. ‘No, no, no, that can’t be true.’ I wiggle myself out of his embrace and crouch down on the sidewalk. My fingers touch the snow, a cold sensation that makes me shiver. ‘What happened to the world that you, Chris Captain America Evans, barely has sex nowadays. If you don’t have sex, what is the rest of the world doing? Oh my, you poor thing.’
‘It’s really not that big of a deal, Luna,’ Chris laughs. He holds out his hands and says: ‘Come on, we need to get into the cab.’
‘You hailed a cab?’ I take ahold of his warm hands and jump up. ‘That is so cool. You are so talented.’
He helps me into the cab and I want to pull him on my lap, so he can sit comfortably there, but weirdly enough, he insists on walking around the cab and sitting next to me. ‘So, can you tell me where your hotel is?’
‘I don’t remember,’ I admit. ‘I barely remember anything that happened today. I was pretty hungover when I arrived here.’ I let myself fall to the side, placing my head on his legs. ‘Mister Evans, have you been working out?’ I squeeze his tight muscles in his thighs, admiring what’s in between my fingers. ‘Damn, I bet chicks love to ride your thighs.’
He burst out in laughter. ‘How much did you have to drink?’ he asks.
‘Just a few shots,’ I admit. ‘But I don’t really handle alcohol that great, to be honest. I’m wasted like that.’ I attempt to snap my fingers, but I fail miserably. My hands look for his and when I finally have one in my hand, I admire his beautifully shaped fingers. ‘You have lovely hands. You have spanked a girl’s ass with these? Or anyone’s ass for that matter’
He starts to laugh. ‘You are unbelievable,’ he says.
‘I’ve never been spanked,’ I confess. ‘I’d love that though. You know, I sing about sex a lot, but to be honest, I haven’t had proper sex in like a year. I mean, my toys do miracles, just like my hands and all. But I just want to have hot and heavy sex.’ I look up and hold out my hand, to touch his beautiful face. His beard pricks against my skin, but I’m not complaining at all.
In the background I hear Chris say something to me, but I close my eyes and fall asleep.
Taglist: @diegos-butt
#chris evans#chris evans x ofc#chris evans x original female character#chris evans fanfiction#chris evans fanfic#caught in a blizzard#chris evans x luna hwang#chris evans x singer#chris evans x luna
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🔥 ℝise Ⱥbove I̾t ◈ Chapter 026 [Robo-Inferno!]
📑 Table of Contents | ◂Backward
Word Count: 2,771
⊱ ────── {⋅. 🔥 .⋅} ────── ⊰
〈“We are young, not for long.
Life is fun! It only goes downhill.
We gotta make the most of it, or you’ll regret it.”
TheOdd1sOut & Boyinaband, “Life is Fun”〉
⊱ ────── {⋅. 🔥 .⋅} ────── ⊰
“Hey! Make some noise, you rabid sports fans! Get those cameras prepped, media hordes! This year, we’re bringing you some of the hottest performances in the sports festival history guaranteed! I’ve only got one question before we start this show – are you ready?! Let me hear you scream as our students make their way to the main stage!” Present Mic’s voice boomed over the cheering crowd.
I readjusted the band across my forehead as class 1-A walked down the darkened hallway toward the center of the stadium. “Oi, Bakuhoe. The logo is visible, right?”
He glanced at me. “I can’t believe you’re wearing that stupid ass thing.”
I scowled. “Tacos are the food of the gods. Don’t hate, appreciate.”
His eyes narrowed at me, lips pulling back into a scowl. “You better fucking take this shit seriously, Winchester!”
“Oh yee of little faith,” I wagged my finger. “I’m comin’ for yo ass, Bakuhoe. Hope you’re ready.”
“Keep dreamin’, bitch.” He was silent for a moment. “Yes, the logo is visible.”
I grinned, throwing my arm on his shoulder.
We reached the end of the hall, stepping out in the bright sun that shined over the open stadium. Goddamn, that’s a lot of fucking people.
“This first group are no strangers to the spotlight! You know them for withstanding a villain attack – the dazzling students light up your TVs with solid gold skills! The hero course students of class 1-A!”
“Uhh… I-I didn’t know there’d be so many people…”
I patted Izuku’s shoulder. “Same, bro.” To be honest, I can’t stand it when people stare at me. Even when Aizawa’s cat stares at me while I’m playing games or trying to eat, that shit pisses me off. Now there’s a fuck ton of people staring at me. Well, at least I’m not alone. Just gotta let them shine brighter.
“I hope we’re still able to give our best performances even though all these eyes are watching us,” Iida commented. “I suppose it’s just another aspect of being a hero we all have to learn to get used to.”
“Present Mic sure did talk us up a lot… Kinda makes me nervous.” Kirishima kept looking around at all the people before turning to me and Bakugo as we walked in front of him. “How you feeling, man? You nervous, too, Winchester?”
“I’m not worried. It makes me want to win this thing even more!” Bakugo grinned.
“It makes me want to die.”
Izuku sweatdropped as he looked over his shoulder. “Please don’t die, Jen-san…”
“No promises.”
“If she dies it’ll be because I killed her! Face forward, Deku!”
“They haven’t been getting nearly as much screen time, but this next group is still chock full of talent! Welcome hero course class 1-B! Next up, general studies C, D, and E! Support classes F, G, and H! And finally, business classes I, J, and K! Give it up for all of U.A.’s first-year contestants!!”
All of the students gathered in front of the platform Midnight stood on top of. “Now, the introductory speech!”
The men in the crowd started to go wild at the sight of her and I rolled my eyes. “Seriously, who thought letting this bitch teach hormonal teenagers was a good idea?” I felt Bakugo shrug his shoulder under my arm.
“Someone should talk to Midnight-sensei about what she’s wearing…” Kirishima commented softly, his cheeks pink.
“Yeah, that costume should come with a warning.” Sparky agreed, his cheeks just as pink.
“Is it really appropriate apparel for a high school game?” Fumi questioned with a hint of disgust in his voice.
“Fumi, my beautiful bird child!” I held my fist out to him and he blinked in surprise, tilting his head and looking at my hand for a solid five seconds before lightly tapping his fist against mine.
“Silence, everyone!” Midnight cracked her short whip. “For the student pledge, we have… Katsuki Bakugo!”
I snickered. “This should be fucking brilliant.”
“H-He’s the first year rep?” Izuku panicked.
“I guess that hot-head did finish first in the entrance test.” Kirishima mused.
I raised a brow at him. “Did you just say entrance test? That sounds so wrong, Kiri.”
“Don’t tease me, Winchester!” He pouted, poking my arm.
“He only got first for the hero course exams,” Some girl on her right said, sending us an annoyed look.
“Oh… right…”
“That girl obviously hates us,”
“Yeah and we’ve got Bakugo to thank for them not liking our class.”
I scoffed, glancing back at the yellow-haired dope. “If you really think that, you’re dumber than you look, Sparky.”
His face flushed.
“What do you mean?” Kiri tilted his head.
“Ever since the USJ incident, class 1-A has been all over the media. By now, most people know who we are, even if it’s just ‘the first years that took on real villains and survived’. While it may be true that the idiot fueled the fire, he didn’t start it. They already disliked our class because of the praise and attention we’ve been getting. Blaming Bakugo is just a cop-out, an easy solution. Besides,” I narrowed my eyes at the girl, who shifted at the attention. “If someone is childish enough to judge the majority for the actions of one person, that’s on them.”
“I just wanna say,” Bakugo’s monotone voice was amplified by the microphone he stood in front of. “I’m gonna win.”
“Boo!”
“What did he say?!”
“So full of himself!”
“Get off the stage!”
I laughed loudly, resting my arm on Fumi’s shoulder. “I totally fucking called it. I shoulda placed a bet!”
Fumi simply sighed, shaking his head.
“Why would you be so disrespectful?!” Iida cried. “You’re representing us all!”
“Not my fault the rest of you are just stepping stones for my victory.” He pointed his thumb down.
“I’m gonna crush this overconfident jerk!! I can’t wait to knock him down a size!!”
I chuckled as Bakugo approached, holding my hand up. “You sure ruffled some jimmies there, Bakuhoe.”
He humphed, slapping his palm against mine.
“Without further ado, it’s time for us to get started!” Midnight spoke up. “This is where you begin to feel the pain. The first fateful game of the festival is…” A screen appeared behind her, the words spinning like a slot machine. “What could it be~?” It stopped on Obstacle Race. “Ta-da~ All eleven classes will participate in this treacherous contest! The track is four kilometers around the outside of the stadium! I don’t wanna restrain anyone – at least not in this game,” She licked her lips and smirked. God, she’s creepy as fuck. “As long as you don’t leave the course, you’re free to do whatever your heart desires! Now then, take your places, contestants!”
The crowd cheered as the gate to out left buzzed, three green lights lighting up above it. The students gathered around the gate and a drop of sweat rolled down my cheek as I scanned the large crowd. Oi oi, there’s no way in the nine hells that all of these students are gonna fit through that narrow ass hallway and I know damn well everyone is gonna rush forward as soon as it begins. That means I either need to get ahead before the jam or fall back and wait for an opening. Sheesh.
The first green light faded.
I glanced up at the stands where the U.A. faculty members were sitting. Toshi looks nervous as hell, his icy blue eyes darting around as he tried to find me and Izuku. God, he can be such a dad sometimes.
The second light faded.
I let out a breath. I’m gonna try hard. After all, if I don’t place well, then old man Shimatsu won’t get much business for his taco stand during lunch. Can’t let that happen!
The third light faded.
It was like that fucking scene from Jumanji, everyone rushing toward the hall at the same time and getting stuck from the sheer amount of students. I winced at the poor kids being smooshed against the wall.
“And~ we’re off to a racing start! How about some color commentary, mummy man?!”
“How did you talk me into this?” Poor Aizawa sounds exasperated, poor guy.
“What should we be paying attention to in the early stages of the race?!”
“The doorway,” he responded blandly.
I hummed, eyes scanning the backline of students as I kneeled down. Alright, let’s get it! I took off toward the hallway, jumping off the ground and landing on the back of a rather large student. Yells of protest reached me as I hopped from student to student, using them as stepping stones. I should thank Bakugo for the idea later.
The temperature suddenly divebombed and I suppressed a shiver as Todoroki activated his ice quirk, covering the end of the hallway and the students with ice. Cocky sumbitch. I hopped from a frozen student’s shoulder, increasing the temperature in my boots before landing on the ice. It sizzled as it melted. Good thing I put in a request to wear these fireproof boots!
“Nice trick, Todoroki!”
“I won’t let you get away so easily you icy hot bastard!!”
I snickered at the students slowly making their way across the frozen ground. One of them slipped and fell onto his ass, letting out a groan of frustration. I almost felt bad for him. Almost.
Mineta jumped into the air. “You think you’re so cool, but I’ve outsmarted you! Ha! How pathetic, Todoroki! Eat this, my special attack -!”
Wham!
One of the robots from the entrance exam came out of nowhere, slamming its arm against his face and yeeting him across the field. That’s karma, you disgusting ass grape.
“Ooh~ Enemies have shown up out of nowhere! I bet we’re in for a treat here! A test of strength and cunning, it’s a robo-inferno!!”
“Are those the zero-point villains from the practical test?!” Sparky cried, nearly running into my back.
“So this is what the other students faced in their entrance exams,” Todoroki commented.
“Where does the school even get the funding for these things?”
I glanced at Momo. “Girl, that’s what I’m sayin’. I’m gonna go out of a limb and say they’re using gorgeous students to form musical groups that tour across the world and get these extremely crazy fanbases that will do anything for their idols even if it means murdering people or invading their personal space thus making millions of dollars off of their rabid love because they throw their hard-earned money at a shit ton of merchandise that has their favorite idol’s face on it.”
Momo sweatdropped. “That’s… oddly specific, Winchester…”
“Yes.”
Todoroki covered the ground and his right arm with ice. “They obviously went through a lot of trouble, but I wish they’d prepared something a little more difficult.” He placed his palm on the ground. Ice shot up, swirling around him. “Especially since my dear old dad is watching,” He flung his hand forward, sending a massive wave of ice toward the zero-pointer.
“Pfft, cool it edgelord, now ain’t the time for your daddy issues.”
He glared back at me before taking off between the robot’s frozen legs. Other students tried to follow. “Careful, now. I froze them while they were off their balance. On purpose.”
“That’s Todoroki from class 1-A pulling ahead to an early lead with a devastating display! Amazing! He’s one we should watch! It almost seems unfair! Thoughts?!”
“His attack was both offensive and defensive.”
“No wonder he was let in on recommendations! He’d never even fought those robo-infernals before, but they didn’t stand a chance against his chart-topping moves! The stakes are high! We’ve got a whole school of top-notch students trying to be heroes, but do they really stand a chance against our heavy metal swarm of robo-infernals?!”
Che, guess I should get a bit serious. That move of his seriously pissed me off, and it’s fucking cold!
Limit release!
My shirt shattered as power flowed more freely throughout my body. I rushed forward, fire engulfing my hands as I kicked off the ground, jumping toward one of the robots and cocking my arm back. “Go to hell!” I grinned, slamming my fist against his face. The metal dented inward, head sparking before exploding. It set off a chain reaction of explosions, the metal creaking as it swayed backward. Fuck yeah, I’ve definitely gotten much stronger than I was!
“Class 1-A’s Winchester smashes through the robot with a single firey punch! The first-year students are already off to one rockin’ start and it’s only the first round! Talk about a cruel obstacle course~ Our players are racing against each other in a vicious battle where anything goes as long as they stay on the track! We’ll continue to bring you live updates and pulse-pounding action thanks to the camera robots placed around the course! Kirishima from class 1-A! What a hardcore debut for this rookie! Woo~ Tetsutetsu from class 1-B was also stuck underneath! What are the odds, folks?!”
I flew through the opening the giant robot had created, clearing the robo-inferno zone. What the fuck is happening back there? And who the fuck names their kid Tetsutetsu?! I glanced over my shoulder to see an angry chihuahua charging through the air. Oh boy…
“Don’t you dare think you’re gonna leave me behind, bitch!”
“Class 1-A’s Bakugo is rocketing over the obstacles! Clever!”
“I wouldn’t dream of it, Bakuhoe~” I grinned as he flew over me.
“Class 1-A’s learned not to hesitate.” Aizawa stated calmly. “They’ve seen what the real world is like. They’ve felt the fear of facing villains, yet they fight on, trying to overcome that fear. They’ve grown, all of them, and they know that they have to act quickly if they want to stay alive.”
I smirked. Aizawa, soft dad hours are playing~
“For those of you that thought the first obstacle was easy~ Let’s see how you feel about the second one! If they take a spill, they’re out! If they wanna pass this test, they’ll have to get creative – it’s the fall!!”
I slid to a stop at the edge of the canyon, eye twitching. Oh come on, the fuck kind of obstacle course has a fucking canyon with a fifty-foot drop?! How is this allowed? Come on, J, stay focused, idiot. How can my fire help in this situation? It fucking can’t! Uh, can I jump from one pillar to the next? No way, the distance is too far. I can jump far, but I ain’t a fucking titan, man.
Wait a second… no, no, there’s no way in hell I could do that, but… Zawa made it look so easy when he did it. He did it a bunch of times when we were training together. My hands clenched at my sides. I spent ten fucking months, day in and day out, watching that man, training with that man. I’ve seen him do it dozens of times. Come on, let’s go!
I stepped back, taking a deep breath before I took off running, lowering my lower body. I went straight toward the thin roping connecting the pillars and started running across it like I had seen Aizawa do on powerlines. This rope is really fucking slack, but as long as I keep my speed up and don’t hesitate, I’ll be fine! Extend my arms out behind me for balance… oh no…
“Look at Winchester from class 1-A! Looks like she’s been studying your moves, Eraserhead! Wait, where are their crocodile tears streaming down her face?!”
“Are you okay, Jen?” Tsu questioned as she climbed across the rope beside me with her hands and feet.
“I can’t believe I’m Naruto-running! I’m a disgrace to my generation! Zawa, this is all your fault!” I cried, pushing myself to run faster.
“What did I do?”
“I have no idea!”
“What is ‘Naruto’?” Tsu asked, tilting her head.
Sweet, innocent Tsu. May you never experience the meme that is Naruto.
“In the world of heroes, it can be hard to get popular without a flashy quirk, right Eraserhead?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, idiot.”
“Ooh~ Looks like Todoroki is still skating by easily! The leader is putting distance between him and the students stuck at the fall. It hasn’t been announced how many competitors will make it through to the next round so there’s no time to relax!”
I groaned as I finally passed the fall, breathing heavily. Man, this sucks so much ass. How is Todoroki so damn fast? Like boi, do you even breathe? I just wanna go home and sleep. Dadzawa, save me~!
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Hmm maybe something about Liv’s first real gig and Noah literally standing in the front row shouting her name because he is, of course, her biggest fan ;)
First of all: thank you so much for this super cute prompt! I read it and then I was like “how can I make this even more emotional” lol. I hope you like it!
Rating: T
1600 words
also on ao3
of love and encouragement
“How are you feeling?”
Liv let out a breath, trying to tame the nerves racing through her body. Her palms were sweaty, her heart was beating fast, her hands were just the slightest bit unsteady.
Noah watched her with a tilted head, his hair fell slightly, and his hand immediately followed to put it into place again, but his eyes stayed on her.
She could only give a truthful answer, he knew her too well to believe her lies.
“Nervous.”
Anyone would be nervous in this situation; it wasn’t every day she had to perform as the only headliner. And okay, it was only a small venue that lay far from the city center, it was only a Tuesday evening; there was free entry, but that didn’t change the fact that it was still her name on the poster, her name and her name alone.
“There’s no need to be.” He sounded so sure of himself and Liv wished she could borrow some of his faith in her, because the only thing she could think of was disaster scenarios: she forgot her lines, the power went out, no one came. “Liv, you’re going to be great. We’re all here to support you tonight.”
She looked into his eyes and felt the earnestness that emerged from his blue eyes. Liv nodded as her gaze moved to her boots.
She just didn’t want to disappoint anyone, they’d come here for her, to see her, to listen to her and if she fucked this up… well, let’s say fucking up was not an option.
“Look,” he said, claiming her attention again. “If you don’t feel like performing, I can always go on stage and sing my rendition of Miley Cyrus’ hit song ‘Best of Both Worlds’.”
Liv blinked in surprise, shaking her head along as she processed his words. It didn’t look like he was joking, not at all.
So, she told him something she had to tell him at least once a week. And, although the fondness that accompanied her words had grown over time, each time she uttered them she was as bewildered as the last.
“You’re so weird.”
Noah didn’t let it faze him, on the contrary, he just continued talking. “Or maybe I should go for ‘Gangnam Style’,” he pondered with a serious face. “I’m sure the crowd will go crazy once I start to do the dance.”
“Oh, shut up,” she told him, trying to suppress the laughter that was bubbling up. And at that moment, the moment that she completely forgot about the stress, that the love for him vanquished anything troubling her, it was okay. She was okay.
The corners of her lips rose in a smile with the realization.
“Did it work?” His eyebrow rose as he asked.
“Maybe,” she replied coyly and with a shrug, but her smile would be enough of an answer for him.
“Good.” A satisfied look graced his face. “Now go amaze everyone.” Noah squeezed her hand and winked before he left her in the backstage.
Liv watched him leave, thinking about how lucky she was that she had him. That he knew her as well as he did. Any doubts she might’ve had– about him, about them– had long vanished into thin air. They were in such a good place and she’d never been more certain.
Her phone buzzed, and she picked it off the table to check it. It was a notification.
SHOW, today at 9 pm
Pulling her skirt a bit straighter, she took one last big breath and went on stage.
The spot shone bright—too bright even— and Liv had to squint as she made her way to the microphone meant for her. She could barely discern any people in the dark room and she wasn’t entirely sure if that helped or if it made things worse.
She guessed she would soon find out.
After quietly clearing her throat, she spoke into the mic. Her voice resonated through the venue. “Hello everyone, thank you for coming today. My name is Liv and I’m going to sing a couple of songs for you.”
Once her eyes had gotten used to the harsh spotlights, she could start to vaguely make out the faces in the crowd. Her friends, her lovely friends, were all standing in the front row. Engel and Isa were holding the most adorable banner splattered with pink heart and golden stars– Engel’s doing most likely.
Noah was there too, standing with Ralph. But she didn’t even have to see him to know he was standing right in front of her, because she could hear him. Loudly.
“Woohoo Liv, you’re amazing!”
“Yeah!” Other voices joined him.
“I’m happy to see I’ve got such a fanbase tonight,” she said into the mic before laughing. Her fanbase whooped in response.
“My first song is called ‘Never Be Yours’, I hope you enjoy.”
The music began and she grabbed ahold of the microphone stand. She’d sung this song many times before. It was almost like muscle memory taking over, the words flowed out of her without thinking about it and before she knew it, the song had finished again.
The crowd applauded and she bowed her head in gratitude.
“For my next song, I’m going to sing a cover of a Jorja Smith song called ‘The One.’”
“Great song choice!” Noah yelled.
Liv rolled her eyes; he had been the one to suggest it.
One night, he heard her sing it as she was preparing dinner for them. That had begun a quest on his part to get her to sing it as often as possible. She refused most of the time—she didn’t want to get sick of the song—but when they were discussing her setlist and Liv wasn’t completely certain which song she should cover, Noah had simply shrugged and said that she should sing Jorja Smith. For once, Liv couldn’t deny it was the perfect song to sing and Noah had been smug about it ever since.
So, she sang it and Noah seemed as content and smug as could be, showering her with even more shouted compliments the moment she stopped singing.
By the almost end of her show, Liv was certain everyone who didn’t personally know them was wondering who that very vocal spectator was.
“This is my last song–”
“Nooo,” was the immediate reaction.
Liv smiled. “I know, sad right? But I truly think I left the best for last.”
She had.
Because this song, this song was special.
It had grown out of a hum, something she’d subconsciously do every time they were together. Every time the same melody. He had noticed, of course he had noticed. He would watch her with his gaze that made her feel too exposed sometimes and smiled before saying her name softly. Sometimes it was a question, sometimes just a remark. It was always just her name. No pressure, no demand. Just “Liv.”
The hum became clearer, more voluminous in her head, a distinct melody repeating itself over and over again. It had, unbeknownst to Noah, become their song. The song that played on a loop when she watched him in the mornings she woke up before him, when they visited museums and he gave her a meticulous explanation of the works there; it even played when they kissed as if they were part of some cheesy rom-com soundtrack.
“I’d like to dedicate this song to all of the incredible people in my life.” Him. “All of the artists.” Him. ” All of the weirdos.” Him.
It was for him.
He didn’t know she was planning on singing it here; he didn’t even know of its existence. It had been her own top-secret project. It had been a challenge because he was always around—she wasn’t complaining in the slightest— and writing a song wasn’t a particularly easy thing to hide. She’d sent him away with excuses of homework, of Skype calls with her parents in Spain, of date nights with Isa, which was actually true, but she then proceeded to let Isa listen to the song. (“Liv, you’re going to make him cry.” “Is it weird that I kinda want to?”)
This was important for her to do, because she was maybe not always the most vocal about how she felt about him, and she could be stubborn and frustrating, and they fought sometimes. But she loved him. And he deserved this.
The room was so silent you could hear a pin drop and then there was a hum. It started with a hum. And Liv decided that she was happy to be able to see the faces of the crowd, because the expression on Noah’s wasn’t something she’d ever forget. His face lit up as he recognized the familiar sound and there was only amazement and curiosity in his eyes.
She didn’t break eye contact with him while she sang and she saw his surprise transform into something sentimental, more and more touching as the song progressed. And while for her first song she could sing on autopilot, now she was paying attention to every word that came out of her mouth, every emphasis she put, because it all mattered so much.
Liv sang her final note and she was about ninety percent sure that Noah was on the verge of crying. And she’d managed to shut him up. While his cheering had completely stopped, the other people in the crowd were clapping and whistling as loudly as they could, creating a thundering and overwhelming noise.
She did it.
Liv bowed one last time before exiting.
It took him less than three minutes to find her afterwards.
“Liv?”
“Yes?”
He just kissed her.
No words needed.
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Merry Christmas-ish (Trixya) - Remeny
This was for the Christmas Fic Exchange but I thought I’d share here too. Thank you to Eevee, Missy and Care for betaing and encouragement. TW Major Character Death, Recreational Drug use, Hospitals
Katya’s hand had gone slack in Trixie’s but he was too afraid to pull his hand away with the fear of waking him. He rarely got much rest which was something he desperately needed. Trixie studied the angular lines of his face, his already pronounced cheekbones and jaw were now almost razor sharp in his gauntness. He grimaced in his sleep and tightened his grip on Trixie’s hand, making him glad he had not pulled away.
The dishes and laundry could wait but time to spend with Katya was ticking down at far too alarming a rate: his lips were blue constantly now, even with the steady supply of Oxygen flowing and a hospital bed had been unceremoniously plunked in the middle of the living room when it became too difficult for him to climb the stairs of their LA condo. At least it was a wider one generally meant for bariatric patients so they could both curl up together.
The apartment was a flood of colour, since both Hallowe'en and Christmas decorations vied for your attention. It was October 29th but they had decorated for Christmas early at Kat’s insistence. “Trix, I don’t want to miss what could be my last Christmas.”
“You’re not going to die Bri, they’ll call, and a heart will come.” Trixie reassured, but he was no longer sure if he was saying it for Katya or if he even believed it or it was just by muscle memory at this point. Katya secretly hated when Trixie said this because he felt like it was setting Trixie up for the inevitable crash but he never said so. One of them had to hold on to hope and Trixie had enough hope for the both of them.
Dark thoughts milled about in Katya’s manic brain and he no longer had the frenetic energy he used to use to distract himself so he now often found himself brooding. “I broke the traditions. I ruined my family. I destroyed my friends and it’s entirely all my fault that they have to go through this. Trixie is entirely too good for me, he was right to run away from me, he would be better off if I had never called him for help.”
It had all happened right after Drag Race had been taped but not released yet. The cheque had cleared and Brian suddenly had money at his disposal. He had been racked with anxiety at how the editors would portray him. He worried that the fans would hate his constant nervous energy or make fun of his penchant for problematic patterns and quirky clothes.
He and Trixie had gotten close during the show. Well as close as two people could get when you were either being constantly monitored or had a camera in your face anyway. They talked every day after the taping, Trix seemed to sense that Katya was struggling and encouraged him to get out and always reminded him to eat and take his meds but he did it in such a caring way that it was endearing not overbearing.
As the date of the cast announcement loomed, Katya got more anxious and then depressed. When Trixie was away for a week, he slept too much and ate too little and didn’t take his meds. He didn’t know how he was going to make it through all the premiere and cast reveal parties. He felt the familiar itch of burning desire for just a little pick me up. Then he happened upon a man he knew when he was using and he thought he could just do it this once, he was in control now. He had a handle on it - on everything - he just needed a break.
He was wrong, of course. He didn’t just fall off the wagon, got dragged along a gravel road for a few miles. He started with coke, and that first line was like coming home. He got so much done, he cleaned his apartment and cranked out a few new outfits for premieres, mostly cat suits because they would be easy to pack and were easy to move and dance in.
Katya hated sneaking around when Trixie got back and they started their daily routine of video chatting, his using had quickly escalated back to meth and he hated that itching paranoia that would settle in his chest at the thought that Trixie was going to find out. Or worse, Fame. He started wearing his sunglasses inside when they chatted so Trixie couldn’t see how blown out his eyes were, and he covered by saying he was having a hard time with migraines.
Trixie always asked, “hey, how’s your head?”
“I dunno, ask Fame.” Katya would joke and then scream-laugh. That joke would never get old to him and it obviously didn’t in some little part of Trixie’s heart because he always set the joke up and let out a little giggle while he shook his head. Trixie would always sober, brows furrowed and pull his bottom lip between his teeth, “no seriously though, did you go to the doctor yet?”
“No, I’m sure it’s just stress and once they release the cast list and start the show and I find out if people love me or hate me, things will go back to normal.”
“Oh please! They are going to love you! I’m the loser with the polarizing makeup people love to hate who went home early, then came back and got booted again. I’m the one who couldn’t out lipsync Pearl and her fucking robot zombie smash dance moves.”
Katya snorted, “True.”
The cast announcement parties came in like a whirlwind, blowing Katya and Trixie apart so they were often not even on the same continent. Katya knew things would change once the episode of her breaking down with Fame or any of the other times he talked about his past with addictions aired.
Right then, he was always being offered a little something at the back of clubs or in the bathrooms. He felt his chest tighten with panic that people were going to stop offering or worse, that they would tell. He tried to make connections with local dealers at cities that had several drag bars since he knew he could be booked for a few days in one spot.
Smoking became too conspicuous, he couldn’t sneak out to the back alleyways at busy bars like he used to behind Jacques when he was relatively unknown, even locally. He would smoke a rock before leaving the hotel but after he did his makeup as his hands shook with adrenaline for the first 30 minutes or so which he always wrote off to others as nerves. But he didn’t get nervous, that was the thing, performing was like a drug in and of itself but now that he had a steady supply coursing through his veins, the shine was wearing off of it.
Katya would stay at the venue as long as possible but coming down from meth was like running out of batteries, he would sometimes come to a dead stand still in the hotel lobby for a good five minutes trying to remember his room number or sometimes to even decipher it from the key card envelope. Sometimes he was paused long enough that a worried hotel employee would come over to make sure he was ok.
But the pain was the worst part, always. He managed to make the joke he was the sweatiest woman in show business so no one questioned him when he would start sweating so hard that it was like having a constantly sprinkling rain cloud over his head, but when it started to feel like his joints were being filled up with gravel and it hurt to even breathe, he had to bail.
That and the fact that meth smoke, well the good stuff, smelled like a mixture of cat piss and hospitals made it hard to hide, people always complimented him on his perfume since he was paranoid someone was going to pick up the scent. So he did something he always vowed not to do, even in his most blottoed days when he was chasing a high that seemed to take more and more drugs to achieve, he started injecting. He’d secret away in the bathroom or lock the dressing room door if he was alone, it wasn’t as complicated as a lot of injectables, you didn’t have to heat it up since that could destroy it. He just carried a bottle of water with him which no one would question and hid his needles in a old eyeshadow pallet case, one of the magnetic ones so it had enough room for his needles and a tourniquet, which he stuffed down deep in his makeup bag.
He generally wore long sleeved catsuits so he didn’t have to worry if he DID end up bruising himself in his haste or because of the tremors. The first few times the high was so much more intense and he fumbled the needle and always had to try a few times to get a vein, now it had been a few months and he easily knew where to slide the needle in. Pulling back the syringe to find blood and know he was in a vein and his pain would soon be alleviated was a rush itself.
A few nights before the finale, he and Trixie were reunited and they admitted their feelings for each other. Katya’s heart was hammering in his chest with the paranoia that Trix was going to find out what he’d been doing. He was so consumed with anxiety that when Trixie tried to give him a blowjob, he couldn’t get it up. He apologized a thousand times but it made a mortified Trixie self conscious that since he admitted his affection first, that Katya was just too nice to turn him down. But that thought was wiped out of his brain along with any other thought when Katya put his magical mouth and hands to work to show just how sorry he was.
Later, Katya woke up covered in sweat and shaking, worried that his every move was going to wake up Trixie who was snuggled up against him. His breath was coming in tight little gasps, so he tried to hold it while he slipped off the bed, crawling across the floor and to the bathroom, dragging his drag bag with him, which felt like it was 5 times as heavy as it was a few hours ago as his muscles screamed at him. He managed to get in a bump and headed back to bed, now wide awake and heart thundering in his ears at the audacity he had to feel miserable while he had literally everything he could ever want.
He had an amazing fanbase he didn’t deserve, the worst was the people that would come up and tell him their sobriety story or that Katya had inspired them to get help. He couldn’t even look those people in the eye, he was so filled with shame but not enough to stop.
He had the ability to travel and make more money in one booking than he did in a month pre-dragrace. Now he “got the boy” but would he stay if he knew what a deplorable human being he really was? Probably not.
Then after the finale, Katya was tired and desperate and felt like he was going to fucking die, he got careless and forgot to lock the door to the bathroom. Him and Trix were just sharing a room and he still didn’t know to this day why but Trixie decided to walk in without knocking. Maybe it was because he’d seen him naked so it wasn’t a big deal, but Katya was currently sitting on the toilet with his head down, drug paraphernalia peppered along the room in his haste, a syringe still clutched in his balled up fist.
“Hey, sorry, I forgot to get my…” Trixie trailed off, turning completely white, still holding on to the doorknob with white knuckles. His eyes were wide with shock and his mouth flopped open, the pleasant warm buzz from a few post-show drinks that he had been feeling vanished as his blood ran cold.
“Brian, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I’ll stop. Please, I need help.” Katya broke then, breaking down into sobs where no sound would come out. Trixie’s arms itched to reach out and hold him but his heart was breaking and his brain was telling him to run far, far away. So he did.
“Damn you Bri!” He said in a whisper as his own tears fell. The broken whisper was like a slap in the face to Katya, who would have much prefered him to yell and scream and rail at him as opposed to the quiet disappointment and heartache that was thrown at him.
“Brian, pl..please st…stay!” Katya sobbed as Trixie took a step back and then another. He felt like someone was disemboweling him with a rusty spoon until he was hollow and dead inside. Trixie hesitated in the doorway before grabbing his wallet and walking out. Katya slid to the floor as he screamed after him until his voice was hoarse and security came to check if everything was ok after receiving several complaints from fellow patrons. When there was a knock on the door, Katya stumbled over himself in his haste to answer it, hoping beyond hope that it was Trixie. He felt even more hollow when he saw it wasn’t.
Trixie came back to the room early the next morning after a sleepless night to find Katya and all his stuff gone. A shakily written apology was penned across the hotel stationary. Trixie wondered where he was and how long this had been going on.
Then Katya went missing, he just dropped off the face of the planet. Trixie had to field angry phone calls from Katya’s manager for missed gigs. They all assumed that Katya was with him playing hookie while he was on vacation or that he knew where he was.
Trixie didn’t sleep more than 30 minutes at a time or eat anything for five hellish days of waiting with his phone clutched in his hand.
Trixie started scouring the local hospitals and rehabs after the first 12 hours of calling him constantly and getting no response and with a sinking stomach about the third day in, he started looking at the obituaries for Boston and area online. Trixie hoped that Katya had checked himself in somewhere and just wasn’t allowed his phone but you would think he would have gotten SOMEONE to call him to let him know that Katya was okay.
The call came in at 4:07 on the start of the 6th day, Trixie had just nodded off for a moment when the blaring of his phone ringing at full volume startled him awake.
At the beginning, there was only laboured breathing on the other end of the line from a number he didn’t recognise. "Who is this? I need to keep this line open so if you are just some pervert, hang the fuck up!“
He almost hung up when Katya breathed in a voice that sounded gravelly from misuse, "Trix?”
“Bri? Ohmigod! Where are you? Are you okay.”
“Need help,” he sputtered weakly.
“What do you need?” Trixie was already standing with his keys, stalking towards the door, heart beating so frantically it was like a small caged animal trying to fight it’s way out of his chest. “Do you need me to pick you up?”
Katya made an unhh sound that Trixie took as a confirmation, “Where are you?”
There was a rustling of material and a few loud bangs and an abrasive and out of it sounding girl came on the phone, “What d'ya want?”
“Uh can I get the address so I can pick up Brian?”
“Who’s Brian?”
Trixie heard Katya sleepily say “me.”
“Oh yeah, you should pick him up, he’s not looking so great.” She said bluntly, Trixie wondered how high a person would have to be to have no filter like that.
“Okay then I need the damn address!” Trixie barked, trying to get the girl to focus as he yanked open his car door.
“You’re not a narc, are you?”
“No! I’m not!!”
“Really? That’s exactly what a narc would say. Brian,” there was a rustle of fabric and Katya moaned, “BRIAN!” She screamed at him. “Is your friend a narc? BRIAN! BRIAN! Well, I’m gonna have to trust you aren’t a narc, he fell asleep and I tried shaking him but it didn’t help.”
She let out a little giggle that set Trixie’s hair on end and he was just about to lose it on her when she rattled off the address to a part of town he didn’t know. He looked around frantically but only found a lipstick so he wrote the street number and name across his arm.
“Thanks, I’ll be there as fast as I can, try to wake him up. I drive a silver jeep and my name is Brian too.”
She laughed, “well that’s funny! I can’t wake him up, I tried shaking him but he’s dead to the world. Did I tell you that? Ask for Ace. Lock your door.” There was a click.
Trixie’s hands shook as he put the address into his phone’s GPS, and even though he didn’t know the area he was going to but it said it was 30 minutes away. Trixie sped as quickly as he dared, it was a warm day but he couldn’t get warm so he turned on the heat. The words “dead to the world” and “he doesn’t look so great” chased each other around his head like overactive dogs. He slammed his hands into the wheel and cursed when traffic came to a dead stop. By this point, he was sobbing with worry and frustration and getting weird looks, which he didn’t give a single fuck about. He put his head in his hands for a moment before a lady took pity on him and let him cross over to the offramp. He didn’t stop, he just drove in what he thought was the general direction while his phone seemed to take forever to reroute.
Trixie tried to mentally prepare himself for what he was about to walk in on. He knew he was getting close, the buildings becoming more shabby then downright abandoned, windows boarded up or broken. Half clothed, dirty, shoeless kids wandering around.
He pulled up to the house, making sure to lock his doors. He basically ran up the hill to the door, adrenaline making his knock much more forceful than necessary, the door creaked open. He peeked in but saw no one, his panic level was rising.
“Hello?” He yelled tentatively into the house, taking a step inside and giving his eyes a second to adjust to the dimness. “Hello?” He took a step further in. The walls were filthy with the stains of tobacco and Lord-knows-what-else and Brian’s stomach jolted at what looked like splatters of blood halfway up the wall. He continued along, stopping every two steps to yell out. There was shuffling but he didn’t see anyone. He was just about to announce himself again when he heard a click behind him and turned to find a wiry white guy pointing a handgun at him. He momentarily forgot how to speak.
“Who the fuck are you?” The guy barked, shifting from foot to foot while his eyes darted around. “Are you a cop?”
Trixie slowly raised his hands out and cleared his throat, he felt like all moisture in his mouth had evaporated. “I’m not a cop.”
The guy jostled the gun and snapped, “that’s what a cop would say.”
“Listen, I’m looking for Ace. Maybe I’m in the wrong place?”
“Oh you know Ace!” The guy exclaimed, returning his gun to the waistband of his stained grey track pants. “Sorry man, shit!” He ran a hand through his unkempt hair, “Shit! Shit! Fuck! Don’t tell her I pulled a gun on you! I’m Sam. C'Mon.”
The house was like a beehive, there were nooks and crannies all along the way to wherever Sam was leading him, every once in a while they would pass by a person laying on a dilapidated couch, or a mattress in the middle of the floor. Trixie’s heart would stop until he realised it wasn’t Katya. He felt bad for them but quickly kept up with Sam.
Trixie was not as prepared for finding him as he hoped, it felt like a dropkick to the gut. He was sprawled out on his side on another dirty mattress that was covered in a threadbare sheet, a dark haired skinny girl laying beside him whom Sammy skirted around warily.
Katya was practically convulsing, he was shaking so hard, he was a pale grey and covered in sweat. He was completely naked aside from a pair of brown stained tighty-whitey underwear. He had soiled himself and his face was inches from a puddle of vomit. He had bruises up his legs and angry red lines Trixie assumed were track marks going up his arms. He looked like he’d lost at least 20 pounds in the past 5 days.
Trixie crouched down, putting a hand on Kat’s clammy shoulder. If he thought his heart was breaking when he walked in on him using, it was now ground to dust. “Bri?” He shook his shoulder slightly and said it louder. Katya didn’t move, he let out a little moan, he was barely breathing in short, shallow little gasps with far to much time in between. He leaned right into Bri’s ear and yelled his name, he didn’t care if he woke up Ace. Let Sam be afraid of her.
She stirred at the jostling of the bed. “What the fuck is with the earthquake?” She opened one eye and sprang to sitting up so fast that Trixie fell backwards in surprise but quickly scrambled back up. “Hi Ace, I’m Brian, here to pick up this Brian, remember we spoke on the phone? How long has he been like this?”
“Oh yeah hi! I dunno, the past day or two.” She said with a shrug.
Trixie pulled his phone out of his back pocket, “he needs an ambulance.”
Ace shared an alarmed look with Sam, who was behind him and he felt the cold metal of the gun against his neck, making his skin crawl, “sorry man, I can’t let you do that. They’ll bring the police.” Sam apologized.
Trixie held up his hands and phone slowly, “take it,” he breathed, “keep it, please just let me take him away with me.”
Sam took it but grumbled indignantly, “I don’t want your fucking phone man, I ain’t no thief! I’ll give it back to you at the door.”
The cold metal was removed from the base of his neck but the goosebumps remained, now that he knew his head wasn’t going to be blown off, he tried to rouse Katya one last time with no luck.
The first time he tried to pick up Katya, he didn’t get very far. He was like handling a cold, shaking wet fish. Katya was not heavy in general but Trixie struggled with the dead weight and trying not to drop him. He managed to finally pick him up bridal style and moved as fast as he could after Sam. He had to stop twice to lean against the wall and readjust Bri’s weight to get a better grip. His head flopped back sickly, letting out a crack at one point that made Trixie wince. He tried to move side to side til his head was no longer flopped straight back. Katya didn’t stir at all, Trixie wasn’t even sure he was breathing at this point but he couldn’t do anything about it until they were out and away from the house. Sam stuck his head out the door and looked around, letting Trixie eek out past him, he tucked Trixie’s phone in his denim shirt pocket. “Take care man, hope he’s ok.” Trixie got a few steps out of the door when Sam slammed it behind him, making him jump and almost drop his precious cargo. He heard the click of the door being locked and then Ace’s shrill voice screaming for Sam.
Trixie scrambled down the little dirt hill at the front of the house, he tried to adjust Katya to open the car door but he couldn’t even get his keys out so he had to lay Katya down while he yanked open the door.
Katya was still shaking so hard, Trixie wasn’t even sure that he wasn’t having a seizure. Katya was stirring up so much dirt, he was covered in a layer of brown in the time it took for Trixie to unlock and open the door. He reclined the passenger seat all the way and picked up Kat again, dumping him onto the seat just as he was about to lose his grip and drop him. He leaned his ear onto Kat’s chest, he was still breathing but barely, his heart sounded like it was skipping beats and it was way too fast. By force of habit, he reached over to buckle the shaking man’s seatbelt. At least it might keep him from falling off the seat.
Trixie swiped angrily at his eyes as he quickly ran to the other side of the car, pulling out his phone to locate the closest hospital with an actual emergency room and not just a walk in clinic. It was almost 20 minutes away! Trixie’s hand shook as he tried to jam the key in the ignition, he ended up driving towards the hospital. Katya scared the shit out of him about three minutes in when he muttered one word, “Trixie.”
“I’m here Bri, I’m here!” Trixie sobbed and reached a hand over to smooth back Katya’s sweaty hair when he was at a red light, he held Kat’s hand and continued to talk to him as he frantically tried to figure out if he should keep driving to the hospital or stop for help. “I’m sorry I left you alone Bri. I should have stayed.” Kat let out a wet little gurgle and then his chest stopped rising. Trixie was getting hysterical, “DON’T YOU DO THIS TO ME BRIAN McCOOK!”
He was never so excited to see a fire station than he was right now, he was never as excited to see ANYTHING before. He screeched up to a halt right in front of the doors, sprinting in to the open garage door and screaming his head off. “HELP! HELP!”
4 people came running, “hey, what do you need? Are you hurt?” The guy that reached the hysterically sobbing and doubled over Trixie first asked, Trixie gestured to his vehicle and panted, “boyfriend, front seat. Save him!” They ran ahead of him as he struggled to catch up. By the time he reached the other side, they had somehow found a blanket and laid Katya out on the ground, people were running from everywhere with big red first aid bags, a fire woman was screaming to dispatch through a 2 way radio that they needed a bus STAT.
A guy had straddled Katya and was pounding on his chest while another held a mask up to his face, squeezing the bulb attached. Trixie sank to his knees and prayed, actually prayed, out loud. Begged, “please don’t take him away from me! Please!!”
The firewoman trotted over, sinking down beside him. “Can you tell me what happened?”
“Um…uh….he was sober and then he fell off the wagon. I walked in on him 5 days ago, he was injecting something into himself, oh God I left him all alone, I ran away! Please don’t let him die on me. I left him alone! Why did I do that? Please don’t let him die.” Trixie was holding onto her sleeve like a child begging for a cookie before dinner.
“We’re doing everything we can sir, an ambulance is on the way.” She said to him and then yelled, “GET SOME NARCAN IN HIM!”
“You mean right now?” A young guy asked.
“No, McIntyre, tomorrow! OF COURSE I MEAN RIGHT NOW!” She screamed, the young guy shot back a curt “yes chief!” and started rifling through one of the first aid kits. The young guy that the captain had snapped at injected something into Katya’s arm while another buzzed around like a hummingbird, searching for a vein but not finding one.
The woman put a hand on Trixie’s back, he could hear the faint sound of a siren in the background. “Gimme your keys sir, I’ll park your car so you can leave it here and go in the ambulance. You shouldn’t drive right now anyway. Take a few deep breaths.”
Trixie couldn’t take a few deep breaths though, he felt like there was an ever tightening band squeezing his lungs. Every second that they worked on Katya felt like a small eternity.
To Trixie’s relief, Katya coughed like he’d been punched in the gut and tried to flail his fists at the guy on top of him, the guy quickly got off of him but caught his hands easily. Katya was still trying to hit the big mountain of a man, he was arching his back and screaming at the top of his lungs.
Trixie scrambled up and ran over to the group, he didn’t want to get in the way but Katya was flailing and going out of his mind.
“Bri, Bri, it’s Trix. You’re ok! You’re ok! They’re trying to help.” Trixie sobbed as the ambulance careened to a stop in the parking lot. Katya stopped flailing and Trixie let out a sigh of relief, he was coming back around. Or he thought so until the mountain of a fireman yelled, “he’s crashing again!” He resumed CPR and McIntyre once more injected something into Kat’s arm while the paramedics unloaded their gear and a gurney.
They got out a defibrillator and at the third zap they announced they had a thready pulse, sending a quiet cheer through the group. They put a still unconscious Katya on the gurney, strapping him in at the ankles, hips, waist and chest, leaving the defibrillator pads on him. The chief rattled off the situation and then handed him her card so he had the address so he could pick up his vehicle later.
“C'mon hun,” one of the paramedics pulled Trixie’s arm towards the ambulance and helped his shaking form up the giant stairs to sit against the wall. Katya crashed again on the way to the hospital, Trixie holding his breath while the paramedic worked to bring him back again. He still wasn’t back when they got to the hospital, they pointed Trixie towards the front waiting room, promising to come get him as soon as they could.
The wait was brutal, he didn’t know if Katya was even alive, one hour turned to two and he held out a sliver of hope that if Katya was dead, they would have come to tell him. He felt like he’d know.
He had never cried so much before in his life, he was either hunched in on himself or pacing the floor. An old lady in a volunteer smock came over at one point to bring him some water and tissues and sat with him for half an hour or so, whispering reassurance and empty promises while she rubbed his back which made his skin crawl. She meant well but he was relieved when she left all the same.
A young male in green scrubs finally came out, he looked around for a minute and headed towards Trixie, who stood up. “Hey I’m Dr Strand, are you the one that brought in the guy from the Fire Station on Kent?” Trixie nodded, he didn’t know if he had the ability to speak, his tongue felt like it was glued to the roof of his mouth. Why couldn’t he read this man’s facial expression? He was hoping to glean at least whether it was positive or negative.
“Walk with me?” The Dr turned and Trixie made his body follow.
“Is he…” Trixie started but faltered.
“What is his name?”
“Brian McCook.”
“Mr McCook is alive and in critical but stable condition at the moment,” Trixie let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding in, he waited for the other shoe to drop though, “The next 24 to 48 hours will be touch and go. He has a severe staph infection from an infected injection site that has attacked his heart, leading to endocarditis.”
“What do you…what can you do for that?”
“We have Mr McCook on IV antibiotics, the vegetation in his heart is concerning and normally we would get our heart surgeon in there but he just isn’t strong enough for a surgery of that magnitude right now. Plus he’s going to be physically withdrawaling from the meth and heroin in his system, we’ve pumped a lot of narcan into him, it blocks the opioid drug receptors in his brain but it’s also forcefully putting into a pretty nasty withdrawal process. We’ll keep him asleep for the next 8 hours at least and try to make him as comfortable as possible, obviously he’ll need emotional support and there are a few rehab programs we can recommend. Any questions?”
“Vegetation?”
“Masses, like tumours, of infectious and inflammatory cells and other tissues that are obviously not meant to be there. Here we are,” the Dr stopped outside of a double set of doors that read ‘INTENSIVE CARE UNIT’ in big red letters to swipe his card which allowed the doors to swing open. They stopped and sanitised their hands and then the Dr lead Trixie to the outside of Katya’s room. He was afraid to look into the room, he swayed in place and the Dr’s arm shot out to steady him.
“Are you ok? Let me walk you in Sir.”
“Just give me a second.” Trixie panted, feeling like all the air had been sucked from the room. He closed his eyes as the room spun, he felt too hot. Dr Strand clamped his hands on Trixie’s shoulders painfully as he steered him into a chair just inside the room.
“Put your head between your knees and take some deep breaths, I’m going to get something to clean up those burns.”
Burns? Trixie had no idea what he was talking about until he put his head down, he had sunk to his knees in the Fire station parking lot and hadn’t even felt the pavement burning him. Anywhere his skin touched, his knees and part of his right calf, was red and blistered. The largest of the blisters had popped to reveal what looked like hamburger meat underneath.
Trixie knew he couldn’t avoid looking at Katya forever, part of him had to to prove he was really still there. It would be better if he was alone when he did. He lifted his head and sucked in a breath, tears springing in his eyes.
Katya looked beyond weak, he looked frail. He was hooked up to a ventilator, Trixie taking some comfort in the steady rise and fall of his chest. He had a heart monitor, the beep, beep, beep of the monitor was reassuring even if it was too fast, a blood pressure cuff swallowed his whole arm. Trixie’s stomach flip-flopped at the sight of an IV coming out of the side of Katya’s neck. They had left the defibrillator pads on his chest and Trixie wondered if that was because they thought they would need them again. He still looked grey against the white flannel blanket that was pulled up on his bare chest.
Trixie stood up on wobbly legs and stood by the side of the bed, he put his hand over Katya’s heart as if to confirm he was indeed alive. “I’m sorry I left you. Please don’t leave me,” he begged, his bottom lip quivering. He picked up Katya’s hand, wincing at the dark angry red lines trailing up his arm. His other hand made its way to Katya’s sweaty forehead, pushing back his hair.
Katya still had a fine layer of brown dust on him and it was bugging Trixie, it couldn’t be comfortable and Trixie was filled with nervous energy so he went on the hunt for a basin and washcloths. He got them all together but then he was too afraid to touch Katya, too afraid that he would mess up the wires that were keeping him alive. He did wash off his scruffy face, being careful to avoid jostling the ventilator tubing that vibrated every time Katya exhaled.
Trixie was made very aware of his injuries as his nerves screamed at him when the Doctor came back to clean and bandage his burns.
Then Trixie watched and waited, tracing words into Katya’s palm. They tried to wean Katya off the medication to wake him up when his heart monitor let out a high, steady mocking whine, sending the room into a frenzy. A nurse punted a panicked Trixie into the hall just as they were jolting Katya’s heart. His back arched and then he flopped back down. Trixie stood in the hall, sobbing, realizing he couldn’t do this alone. He was going to go crazy.
He pulled out his phone, dialing with shaking hands.
“Hello?”
“Ginger.” Trixie managed to get out before completely breaking down.
“Trix? Is that you? What’s wrong baby? What’s happened?”
“Katya’s….sick. I don’t know what to do!” Trixie blubbered, letting out a wail as the Dr shocked Kat again. “He can’t die on me Ging! We just found each other.”
“DIE? Omigod! Where are you?”
“Cal… California. LA.”
“I’m in San Diego, I’ll be on the next flight out. It’s only an hour flight. What… what happened?”
“It’s his heart, there’s an infection, they have to keep resuscitating him. I’m…I’m afraid they won’t be able to get him back this time. I’m so afraid Joshua.”
“Oh God, I’m so sorry Brian. I’m on my way to the airport now, I’ll send you my flight details.”
“Ok, thanks.”
Trixie hung up and rested his head against the glass. They had managed to restart Bri’s heart, Trixie sighed in relief and got hypnotized by the squiggly line of his pulse. They let him back into the room and he sank back down into the chair by the bed.
Ginger arrived in a whirlwind of hugs and tears and comforting but empty promises. He could only stay for 24 hours but his presence was comforting.
3 days, 2 attempts and 1 more code later and they were finally able to wake Katya up. His eyes went wide as he flailed his matchstick arms and tried to pull out his breathing tube so Trixie grabbed his hands, putting his face directly above Katya’s.
“Bri, it’s ok! You’re ok! This is to help you breathe, they are just trying to help you babe.”
Katya calmed and they were able to remove the breathing tube about half an hour later and replace it with oxygen.
“You came.” Katya croaked and then hacked violently, turning blue and coughing up a pink foam. A nurse cranked up the oxygen and shoved a mask over Kat’s face. He took a few deep breaths, slid the mask off and tried to speak again.
Trixie placed the mask back on and smoothed his hand through Katya’s hair. “Shhhh! Don’t talk. Of course I came! I looked for you for days and days. I’m so glad you called me. I was going crazy! I’m so sorry, I should have never left you!”
Katya turned over their enjoined hands and released Trixie’s, he traced the words ‘I’m sorry’ on Trixie’s palm. Tears pooled and trickled down his cheeks as Katya’s shoulders shook with sobs. Trixie wiped away the fat tears with his knuckles.
It was obvious that even though Katya had only been awake less than an hour after 3 days of unconsciousness, he was exhausted and his eyes kept fluttering shut. He’d quickly jolt himself awake, grimacing in pain and rubbing his chest.
Trixie lifted their joined hands and kissed Katya’s knuckles, “close your eyes Bri, rest.” He whispered. He started humming the tune to a song he wrote long ago and was relieved to see Katya allow himself to rest.
The next day they wheeled Katya away to surgery after a tearful goodbye, both Katya and Trixie were very aware that this could kill Katya but to do nothing could also kill him. The antibiotics were not working as well as the Doctors had hoped. The 3 hour wait was unbearable, even with the arrival of the whirlwind that is Katya’s Mum Pat at the beginning of the second hour to distract him.
Pat came and crouched in front of the chair Trixie was sitting hunched over in, “Hi, you must be Trixie? I’m Brian’s Mum Pat. What happened? They wouldn’t tell me anything, I just got back from vacation to a message from some hospital in LA saying they had my son. They didn’t tell me anyone was with him and I’ve been going crazy all flight at the thought that he spent all this time alone. Thank you for coming, Brian has told me a lot about you. He’s really quite fond of you. Where is he? Where is my son?”
“He’s in surgery. He’s got masses of infection in his heart.”
“Oh,” Pat breathed and sat hard on the floor. Trixie scrambled to his feet and pulled Pat up, the tiny woman latched on to him in a surprisingly firm hug. Trixie did his best not to squirm, he wasn’t really a “hugger”, he just wasn’t used to it. Pat was crying, her knees were wobbling so Trixie was practically holding her up, he turned slightly and sat her down in the chair. “I’m sorry!” She apologized as he pulled up another chair, she put her hand over Trixie’s, “you mean a great deal to my Brian. Are you two together?” Trixie nodded but then started sobbing. “Oh no! Why are you crying dear? It’s going to be ok, Brian is a strong boy.”
“This is all my fault.” Trixie cradled his head in his hands, he took a deep breath and told Pat the whole story. Walking in on Katya shooting up, running away, searching for days, him calling and what happened after.
Pat was silent for a long, agonizing moment then she put her hand on Trixie’s back, “it’s not your fault dear. Brian has slayed this dragon before and he will again.” She said confidently.
They both stood up as the cardiac surgeon came in and introduced herself as Dr Gilmour. “I’m afraid I have bad news.”
“Oh God,” Pat fell backwards into the chair and folded in on herself, “is my baby dead? Please oh God no!”
“No, no no! I’m so sorry. Brian did fairly well during the surgery, we came into a bit of trouble with the left ventricle. We’ve removed what vegetation we could but we will likely need to go in again in a day or two. Unfortunately, the damage is extensive so we called UNOS and got him on the list.”
“What does that mean?”
Pat pulled Trixie to sit down again beside her and he was glad she did, “honey, she’s saying Brian needs a heart transplant.”
“Oh.” He said dumbly, feeling numb and getting goosebumps all over.
“How likely is him getting a heart with his history of substance abuse?” Pat asked, looking like it was the last thing she wanted to ask.
“it definitely came up to the ethics board, I made sure they knew he had been sober for some time before this slip. I managed to get him a bed at a rehab program at a hospital here in LA. They have an excellent program for patients who may need a less rigorous and more flexible program because of medical fragility.”
Trixie’s heart sank, “how long is it?”
“Well, it doesn’t have a set time like most programs because of its unique nature. But the minimum stay is around 30 days.”
Katya ended up staying for an agonizing 3½ months while Trixie had to parade around the world, pretending everything was fine at Kat’s insistence. They had put out the story, at Pat’s insistence, that she was sick and Bri had taken a hiatus from travelling to go be with her.
It had been 10 months since he was put on the list, he was somewhere near the top since he continued to decline. Trixie remembered the call they had gotten a month ago in the middle of the night, Dr Gilmour announced that they had a heart.
Katya had joked on the way to the hospital that if Trix kept driving like an idiot, they would get in an accident and his organs would be no good to anybody. They practically floated into the hospital, Katya dancing with his oxygen tank they had named Charlie like a goof while Trixie went to the front desk to sign them in.
They knew something was up as soon as they saw Dr Gilmour’s fallen face. “I’m afraid that there was a problem with the heart. It wasn’t viable.”
The ride home was the longest and most silent 35 minutes of Trixie and Katya’s life. Katya had made Trixie go upstairs to sleep, saying he was in too much pain to have someone in bed with him. He refused to take pain medication unless he was delirious with agony. Then he permitted it since it was bad for his heart to be put through so much stress.
Trixie got halfway up the stairs when he heard Katya let out a sob. He put his head down, grabbed onto the railing, then gave it a thump with the side of his closed fist. He almost went back downstairs but knew that Kat needed to be alone. He climbed the rest of the stairs, flopping on the bed where he cried himself to sleep, still fully dressed.
Trixie felt Katya squeeze his hand, bringing him back to the present. “Hey there, you looked like you were far, far away. Where did you go Tracy?” Katya asked, smiling wistfully.
“Oh I was just strolling on the beach with my dead Dad.” Trix joked, “how was your rest?”
“It was ok, there weren’t any beaches though, nor dead Dads.”
“Bummer man.”
“So I was thinking…”
“Always a dangerous activity.”
“Oh shut up!” Katya laughed then grew serious, “we should move our Christmas up to November 5th.”
Trixie could run one of two ways with this, he could tell Katya that a heart would come or he could crack a joke. He chose the latter, “you just want your present earlier, ya big ol’ baby!”
Katya elbowed him in the shoulder. “Why do you know me so well? You’re so mean! But seriously can we?”
Trixie’s mouth hitched up on one side in a lopsided grin, “ok fine!”
He gave in just like Katya knew he would, playing perfectly into his plan.
They got the call on their special Christmas Eve, they were curled up watching a movie and eating lasagne, well more precisely Trixie was eating and Katya was pushing the food around on his plate before pushing the plate away all together and grumbling about not being hungry. He had been getting worse lately and had been hospitalized twice in the past 2 weeks.
Katy answered the phone with shaking hands, automatically putting it on speaker and setting it on his chest since he found it too taxing to hold the phone up without losing circulation in his hand.
“Brian, we have a heart for you.” Dr Gilmour announced, the excitement in her voice was almost palpable. “It’s in the air now, it’s been double and triple checked so we won’t have a problem like last time.”
“Ok, we’re on our way.” Katya said in a monotone before hanging up. He refused to get excited this time, the last time felt like his trashy heart was being crushed to smithereens.
Trixie squealed and hugged him gently before grabbing Katya’s portable oxygen tank and yanking the fully packed hospital bag out of the front closet and throwing their phones and laptop and their various cords in. It had been carefully packed for months in preparation for this moment. Trixie had found the list on Pinterest. It had the basics like toiletries, lip balm and lotion, magazines they hadn’t read yet, ear plugs and sleep mask, slippers and loose clothing. Then it had things they would have never thought of, 2 empty refillable water bottles, snacks for Trixie to stress eat while waiting, a battery powered fan for white noise since Kat couldn’t stand the beeping on his previous hospital stays and a stuffed Tenderheart Care-bear from Ginger. An adult colouring book and pencil crayons were suggested for the pre-surgery waiting jitters by a fellow heart patient whom they met on one of Kat’s hospital stays in the last 10 months.
Katya labouriously sat up in bed, switching to the shorter oxygen tubing to his portable tank, it was only 5:15pm but he was as exhausted as if it were 3am and he’d been working out for 10 days straight. He had to stop 5 times on the way to the car, breathing heavily and being supported by Trixie who had offered to carry him. He bristled and declined, it was totally emasculating to be offered to be carried like a child, even if it was by someone who loved him as much as he knew Trix loved him.
There were no jokes even though Trixie drove like a madman again. He was grinning madly, he couldn’t help it. Katya felt hope ignite in his stomach, he tried to suppress it but soon there was a small grin on his pale blue lips too.
Trixie pulled up to the front door, “wait a sec.” He ran into the hospital and returned pushing a wheelchair which he almost careened in the side of his Jeep in his haste. Katya opened his mouth to protest but closed it with a warning look from Trixie. Trixie brought him into the lobby, pressing Kat’s phone into his hand, “call your Mum while I park the car.”
Trixie rushed away, practically skipping and humming to himself. Katya looked at his phone for a minute before tucking it into his pocket. He had to make sure this was real, he couldn’t bear being any more of a disappointment to her. He was back to being numb, he had apparently successfully squashed that pesky flicker of hope.
“Hi Brian! You made it!” Dr Gilmour rushed over and hugged him, picking up his wrist to check his pulse as if by habit while she looked around. “Let’s get this show on the road, like I said the heart is in the air, should be here in 45 minutes. Where’s Firkus? You ready? How do you feel? When was the last time you ate and how much?” Her questions toppled out in her excitement, she had gotten attached to “the Brians” as she called them, she practically bounced in excitement. They were such a lovely couple and she had fought hard on behalf of Katya. He was a talented man that made a mistake and it shouldn’t cost him his life.
“He’s parking the car, one bite of lasagne about an hour ago because Firkus was giving me his puppy dog eyes and before that a boiled egg, ½ a piece of toast and ensure this morning at around 10. Haven’t had much appetite. So there’s really a heart?”
She put a hand on her cocked hip as she rolled her eyes and quipped sarcastically, “no, there’s no heart. This is all an elaborate ruse Brian.” She then did an uncanny impression of the soup guy from Seinfeld, “no heart for you!”
Katya let out a giggle, “aha! I thought so!” Trixie rushed up to them, pulling Katya’s hand into his and swinging them slightly.
“Ok Firkus is here, let’s go get you a new heart Brian!”
“One second, I just have to call my Mum.”
Trixie let out an exasperated sigh, “you didn’t believe it was really happening, did you?”
“He didn’t. Sceptical, sceptical man!” She tsked with a wink and then checked her beeping cellphone and let out a very nonDoctor-like squeal, “it’ll be here early, in 30 minutes! Let’s goooooo!” She tapped her fingers on the counter until Katya hung up with his Mum and then she grabbed the wheelchair handles and they were off.
——-
“Daddy, why do we celebrate two Christmases?” A tiny girl in a scarlet velvet gown crawled into Trixie’s lap. He chuckled at her and put his guitar down as he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close.
“Well, 6 years ago and 2 years ago, miracles happened on November 4th.”
“Oh really? What?” She bounced on his knee in her excitement, this story never got old to her.
“Well 6 years ago, a man in Florida unfortunately died, but he gave the ultimate gift by signing an organ donor card. Your Papa was really, really sick.”
“It was his heart, right?” She said seriously, her brown eyes wide. She pointed one chubby finger to the center of her chest. A wide pink scar was barely visible, peeking out of the top of her dress.
“Mmhmm, exactly right Barbara.”
“So Papa got a new heart right?”
“You know that the answer is yes.”
“What happened 2 years ago?” She asked with a twinkle in her eye.
“Oh it was very exciting! We got a new houseplant! That fern over there!” He laughed at her look of indignation.
“Daddyyyy!” Barbara whined and pouted, “tell the story right!”
“Oh ok! If I must,” he sighed in mock exasperation and then continued, “your Papa was feeling sick, his new heart was being grumpy so doctor Gilmour,”
“God-mommy Olive?”
He nodded into her hair and kissed the top of her head, “Yes God-mommy Olive, do you want to tell the story?”
“Noooo! I’ll be good, I promise!” She said seriously then squealed when Katya picked her up and tossed her in the air once before putting her down between them, she climbed up and he cradled her on his lap, Trixie scooched closer and put an arm around him.
“The Christmas-ish story? Again?”
“Mmhmm.”
“So I was sick,” Katya continued, “anddoctor Olive decided I should be in the hospital for a few days for some medicine. We were at the heart institute and when I was feeling a bit better, we went for a walk around the hall and noticed a teeny little 4 year old girl.”
“Me right?”
“Yes you! You were so small.”
“You were pretty sick,” Trixie took over the story like he did every night, “we found out later that you had been in and out of the hospital a lot and we felt sad that you were all alone. We didn’t know where your Mommy and Dad were so we’d sneak in and sit with you and talk to you, sometimes I would sing to you. Then we found out that your Mommy and Dad were very young when they had you and too afraid to hurt you because they loved you so much so we snuck in in the night and stole you and ran fast!”
“Silly Daddy!! Then doctor Mark fixed up my heart and you adopted me, right?” She let out a huge yawn and snuggled in deeper, blinking up at them sleepily. She didn’t need them to nod, she knew the story and had asked to hear it millions of times. “I’m glad,” she muttered as her long-lashed eyes fluttered shut.
Katya leaned over to Trixie and gave him a kiss, “Merry Christmas-ish dear.”
“Merry Christmas-ish honey, oh honey.” Trixie said with a giggle.
Katya sighed happily and thought ‘we started new traditions and we’ve made our own family because of it’ his newish-to-him heart filled with gratefulness and relief as he looked down at Barbara adoringly, ‘I didn’t destroy anyone.’
(hope the end wasn’t to floofy)
Thanks for reading my story! I hope you liked it and it just broke your heart a tiny bit but the ending glued it back together. Whether you liked it or hated it and want me to die in a fiery plane crash, feel free to send me feedback! Please?
On a serious note, please consider becoming an Organ Donor, it can even be put on your licence (or health card in Canada) if you think your family would disagree. It really is the ultimate gift and you can’t take it with you. I, myself, am a tissue donor recipient, I am very grateful that it was an available option for my parents. (I was like 4 when we started to age 7)
Organ donation is also close to my heart as my God brother and very best friend, Jeremy, died when I was 12 while waiting for a heart. He was only 8.
I know it’s a hard decision and I know some religions prohibit it, I would just be glad if this makes at least one person think about it.
Love and Glitter and Happy Christma-Hanu-Kwanza-Yule-ica!
Remény
#merry christmas-ish#trixya#tw illicit drug use#tw major character death#katya zamolodchikova#trixie mattel#rpdr fanfiction#remény
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Christmas-ish part 1
So this is for the @rpdrficexchange. I got matched up with @honeyedcurves and I really hope you like it. If you don't, I can write something different.
Thanks to @mistressaq @artificialeevee and Care (who's tumblr name I can't remember.)
TW Major Character death, hospitals, illicit drugs by name.
Katya's hand had gone slack in Trixie's but he was too afraid to pull his hand away with the fear of waking him. He rarely got much rest which was something he desperately needed. Trixie studied the angular lines of his face, his already pronounced cheekbones and jaw were now almost razor sharp in his gauntness. He grimaced in his sleep and tightened his grip on Trixie's hand, making him glad he had not pulled away.
The dishes and laundry could wait but time to spend with Katya was ticking down at far too alarming a rate: his lips were blue constantly now, even with the steady supply of Oxygen flowing and a hospital bed had been unceremoniously plunked in the middle of the living room when it became too difficult for him to climb the stairs of their LA condo. At least it was a wider one generally meant for bariatric patients so they could both curl up together.
The apartment was a flood of colour, since both Hallowe'en and Christmas decorations vied for your attention. It was October 29th but they had decorated for Christmas early at Kat's insistence. "Trix, I don't want to miss what could be my last Christmas."
"You're not going to die Bri, they'll call, and a heart will come." Trixie reassured, but he was no longer sure if he was saying it for Katya or if he even believed it or it was just by muscle memory at this point. Katya secretly hated when Trixie said this because he felt like it was setting Trixie up for the inevitable crash but he never said so. One of them had to hold on to hope and Trixie had enough hope for the both of them.
Dark thoughts milled about in Katya's manic brain and he no longer had the frenetic energy he used to use to distract himself so he now often found himself brooding. "I broke the traditions. I ruined my family. I destroyed my friends and it's entirely all my fault that they have to go through this. Trixie is entirely too good for me, he was right to run away from me, he would be better off if I had never called him for help.”
It had all happened right after Drag Race had been taped but not released yet. The cheque had cleared and Brian suddenly had money at his disposal. He had been racked with anxiety at how the editors would portray him. He worried that the fans would hate his constant nervous energy or make fun of his penchant for problematic patterns and quirky clothes.
He and Trixie had gotten close during the show. Well as close as two people could get when you were either being constantly monitored or had a camera in your face anyway. They talked every day after the taping, Trix seemed to sense that Katya was struggling and encouraged him to get out and always reminded him to eat and take his meds but he did it in such a caring way that it was endearing not overbearing.
As the date of the cast announcement loomed, Katya got more anxious and then depressed. When Trixie was away for a week, he slept too much and ate too little and didn't take his meds. He didn't know how he was going to make it through all the premiere and cast reveal parties. He felt the familiar itch of burning desire for just a little pick me up. Then he happened upon a man he knew when he was using and he thought he could just do it this once, he was in control now. He had a handle on it - on everything - he just needed a break.
He was wrong, of course. He didn't just fall off the wagon, got dragged along a gravel road for a few miles. He started with coke, and that first line was like coming home. He got so much done, he cleaned his apartment and cranked out a few new outfits for premieres, mostly cat suits because they would be easy to pack and were easy to move and dance in.
Katya hated sneaking around when Trixie got back and they started their daily routine of video chatting, his using had quickly escalated back to meth and he hated that itching paranoia that would settle in his chest at the thought that Trixie was going to find out. Or worse, Fame. He started wearing his sunglasses inside when they chatted so Trixie couldn't see how blown out his eyes were, and he covered by saying he was having a hard time with migraines.
Trixie always asked, "hey, how's your head?"
"I dunno, ask Fame." Katya would joke and then scream-laugh. That joke would never get old to him and it obviously didn't in some little part of Trixie's heart because he always set the joke up and let out a little giggle while he shook his head. Trixie would always sober, brows furrowed and pull his bottom lip between his teeth, "no seriously though, did you go to the doctor yet?"
"No, I'm sure it's just stress and once they release the cast list and start the show and I find out if people love me or hate me, things will go back to normal."
"Oh please! They are going to love you! I'm the loser with the polarizing makeup people love to hate who went home early, then came back and got booted again. I'm the one who couldn't out lipsync Pearl and her fucking robot zombie smash dance moves."
Katya snorted, "True."
The cast announcement parties came in like a whirlwind, blowing Katya and Trixie apart so they were often not even on the same continent. Katya knew things would change once the episode of her breaking down with Fame or any of the other times he talked about his past with addictions aired.
Right then, he was always being offered a little something at the back of clubs or in the bathrooms. He felt his chest tighten with panic that people were going to stop offering or worse, that they would tell. He tried to make connections with local dealers at cities that had several drag bars since he knew he could be booked for a few days in one spot.
Smoking became too conspicuous, he couldn't sneak out to the back alleyways at busy bars like he used to behind Jacques when he was relatively unknown, even locally. He would smoke a rock before leaving the hotel but after he did his makeup as his hands shook with adrenaline for the first 30 minutes or so which he always wrote off to others as nerves. But he didn't get nervous, that was the thing, performing was like a drug in and of itself but now that he had a steady supply coursing through his veins, the shine was wearing off of it.
Katya would stay at the venue as long as possible but coming down from meth was like running out of batteries, he would sometimes come to a dead stand still in the hotel lobby for a good five minutes trying to remember his room number or sometimes to even decipher it from the key card envelope. Sometimes he was paused long enough that a worried hotel employee would come over to make sure he was ok.
But the pain was the worst part, always. He managed to make the joke he was the sweatiest woman in show business so no one questioned him when he would start sweating so hard that it was like having a constantly sprinkling rain cloud over his head, but when it started to feel like his joints were being filled up with gravel and it hurt to even breathe, he had to bail.
That and the fact that meth smoke, well the good stuff, smelled like a mixture of cat piss and hospitals made it hard to hide, people always complimented him on his perfume since he was paranoid someone was going to pick up the scent. So he did something he always vowed not to do, even in his most blottoed days when he was chasing a high that seemed to take more and more drugs to achieve, he started injecting. He'd secret away in the bathroom or lock the dressing room door if he was alone, it wasn't as complicated as a lot of injectables, you didn't have to heat it up since that could destroy it. He just carried a bottle of water with him which no one would question and hid his needles in a old eyeshadow pallet case, one of the magnetic ones so it had enough room for his needles and a tourniquet, which he stuffed down deep in his makeup bag.
He generally wore long sleeved catsuits so he didn't have to worry if he DID end up bruising himself in his haste or because of the tremors. The first few times the high was so much more intense and he fumbled the needle and always had to try a few times to get a vein, now it had been a few months and he easily knew where to slide the needle in. Pulling back the syringe to find blood and know he was in a vein and his pain would soon be alleviated was a rush itself.
A few nights before the finale, he and Trixie were reunited and they admitted their feelings for each other. Katya's heart was hammering in his chest with the paranoia that Trix was going to find out what he'd been doing. He was so consumed with anxiety that when Trixie tried to give him a blowjob, he couldn't get it up. He apologized a thousand times but it made a mortified Trixie self conscious that since he admitted his affection first, that Katya was just too nice to turn him down. But that thought was wiped out of his brain along with any other thought when Katya put his magical mouth and hands to work to show just how sorry he was.
Later, Katya woke up covered in sweat and shaking, worried that his every move was going to wake up Trixie who was snuggled up against him. His breath was coming in tight little gasps, so he tried to hold it while he slipped off the bed, crawling across the floor and to the bathroom, dragging his drag bag with him, which felt like it was 5 times as heavy as it was a few hours ago as his muscles screamed at him. He managed to get in a bump and headed back to bed, now wide awake and heart thundering in his ears at the audacity he had to feel miserable while he had literally everything he could ever want.
He had an amazing fanbase he didn't deserve, the worst was the people that would come up and tell him their sobriety story or that Katya had inspired them to get help. He couldn't even look those people in the eye, he was so filled with shame but not enough to stop.
He had the ability to travel and make more money in one booking than he did in a month pre-dragrace. Now he "got the boy" but would he stay if he knew what a deplorable human being he really was? Probably not.
Then after the finale, Katya was tired and desperate and felt like he was going to fucking die, he got careless and forgot to lock the door to the bathroom. Him and Trix were just sharing a room and he still didn't know to this day why but Trixie decided to walk in without knocking. Maybe it was because he'd seen him naked so it wasn't a big deal, but Katya was currently sitting on the toilet with his head down, drug paraphernalia peppered along the room in his haste, a syringe still clutched in his balled up fist.
"Hey, sorry, I forgot to get my..." Trixie trailed off, turning completely white, still holding on to the doorknob with white knuckles. His eyes were wide with shock and his mouth flopped open, the pleasant warm buzz from a few post-show drinks that he had been feeling vanished as his blood ran cold.
"Brian, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I'll stop. Please, I need help." Katya broke then, breaking down into sobs where no sound would come out. Trixie's arms itched to reach out and hold him but his heart was breaking and his brain was telling him to run far, far away. So he did.
"Damn you Bri!" He said in a whisper as his own tears fell. The broken whisper was like a slap in the face to Katya, who would have much prefered him to yell and scream and rail at him as opposed to the quiet disappointment and heartache that was thrown at him.
"Brian, pl..please st...stay!" Katya sobbed as Trixie took a step back and then another. He felt like someone was disemboweling him with a rusty spoon until he was hollow and dead inside. Trixie hesitated in the doorway before grabbing his wallet and walking out. Katya slid to the floor as he screamed after him until his voice was hoarse and security came to check if everything was ok after receiving several complaints from fellow patrons. When there was a knock on the door, Katya stumbled over himself in his haste to answer it, hoping beyond hope that it was Trixie. He felt even more hollow when he saw it wasn't.
Trixie came back to the room early the next morning after a sleepless night to find Katya and all his stuff gone. A shakily written apology was penned across the hotel stationary. Trixie wondered where he was and how long this had been going on.
Then Katya went missing, he just dropped off the face of the planet. Trixie had to field angry phone calls from Katya's manager for missed gigs. They all assumed that Katya was with him playing hookie while he was on vacation or that he knew where he was.
Trixie didn't sleep more than 30 minutes at a time or eat anything for five hellish days of waiting with his phone clutched in his hand.
Trixie started scouring the local hospitals and rehabs after the first 12 hours of calling him constantly and getting no response and with a sinking stomach about the third day in, he started looking at the obituaries for Boston and area online. Trixie hoped that Katya had checked himself in somewhere and just wasn't allowed his phone but you would think he would have gotten SOMEONE to call him to let him know that Katya was okay.
The call came in at 4:07 on the start of the 6th day, Trixie had just nodded off for a moment when the blaring of his phone ringing at full volume startled him awake.
At the beginning, there was only laboured breathing on the other end of the line from a number he didn't recognise. "Who is this? I need to keep this line open so if you are just some pervert, hang the fuck up!"
He almost hung up when Katya breathed in a voice that sounded gravelly from misuse, "Trix?"
"Bri? Ohmigod! Where are you? Are you okay."
"Need help," he sputtered weakly.
"What do you need?" Trixie was already standing with his keys, stalking towards the door, heart beating so frantically it was like a small caged animal trying to fight it's way out of his chest. "Do you need me to pick you up?"
Katya made an unhh sound that Trixie took as a confirmation, "Where are you?"
There was a rustling of material and a few loud bangs and an abrasive and out of it sounding girl came on the phone, "What d'ya want?"
"Uh can I get the address so I can pick up Brian?"
"Who's Brian?"
Trixie heard Katya sleepily say "me."
"Oh yeah, you should pick him up, he's not looking so great." She said bluntly, Trixie wondered how high a person would have to be to have no filter like that.
"Okay then I need the damn address!" Trixie barked, trying to get the girl to focus as he yanked open his car door.
"You're not a narc, are you?"
"No! I'm not!!"
"Really? That's exactly what a narc would say. Brian," there was a rustle of fabric and Katya moaned, "BRIAN!" She screamed at him. "Is your friend a narc? BRIAN! BRIAN! Well, I'm gonna have to trust you aren't a narc, he fell asleep and I tried shaking him but it didn't help."
She let out a little giggle that set Trixie's hair on end and he was just about to lose it on her when she rattled off the address to a part of town he didn't know. He looked around frantically but only found a lipstick so he wrote the street number and name across his arm.
"Thanks, I'll be there as fast as I can, try to wake him up. I drive a silver jeep and my name is Brian too."
She laughed, "well that's funny! I can't wake him up, I tried shaking him but he's dead to the world. Did I tell you that? Ask for Ace. Lock your door." There was a click.
Trixie's hands shook as he put the address into his phone's GPS, and even though he didn't know the area he was going to but it said it was 30 minutes away. Trixie sped as quickly as he dared, it was a warm day but he couldn't get warm so he turned on the heat. The words "dead to the world" and "he doesn't look so great" chased each other around his head like overactive dogs. He slammed his hands into the wheel and cursed when traffic came to a dead stop. By this point, he was sobbing with worry and frustration and getting weird looks, which he didn't give a single fuck about. He put his head in his hands for a moment before a lady took pity on him and let him cross over to the offramp. He didn't stop, he just drove in what he thought was the general direction while his phone seemed to take forever to reroute.
Trixie tried to mentally prepare himself for what he was about to walk in on. He knew he was getting close, the buildings becoming more shabby then downright abandoned, windows boarded up or broken. Half clothed, dirty, shoeless kids wandering around.
He pulled up to the house, making sure to lock his doors. He basically ran up the hill to the door, adrenaline making his knock much more forceful than necessary, the door creaked open. He peeked in but saw no one, his panic level was rising.
"Hello?" He yelled tentatively into the house, taking a step inside and giving his eyes a second to adjust to the dimness. "Hello?" He took a step further in. The walls were filthy with the stains of tobacco and Lord-knows-what-else and Brian's stomach jolted at what looked like splatters of blood halfway up the wall. He continued along, stopping every two steps to yell out. There was shuffling but he didn't see anyone. He was just about to announce himself again when he heard a click behind him and turned to find a wiry white guy pointing a handgun at him. He momentarily forgot how to speak.
"Who the fuck are you?" The guy barked, shifting from foot to foot while his eyes darted around. "Are you a cop?"
Trixie slowly raised his hands out and cleared his throat, he felt like all moisture in his mouth had evaporated. "I'm not a cop."
The guy jostled the gun and snapped, "that's what a cop would say."
"Listen, I'm looking for Ace. Maybe I'm in the wrong place?"
"Oh you know Ace!" The guy exclaimed, returning his gun to the waistband of his stained grey track pants. "Sorry man, shit!" He ran a hand through his unkempt hair, "Shit! Shit! Fuck! Don't tell her I pulled a gun on you! I'm Sam. C'Mon."
The house was like a beehive, there were nooks and crannies all along the way to wherever Sam was leading him, every once in a while they would pass by a person laying on a dilapidated couch, or a mattress in the middle of the floor. Trixie's heart would stop until he realised it wasn't Katya. He felt bad for them but quickly kept up with Sam.
Trixie was not as prepared for finding him as he hoped, it felt like a dropkick to the gut. He was sprawled out on his side on another dirty mattress that was covered in a threadbare sheet, a dark haired skinny girl laying beside him whom Sammy skirted around warily.
Katya was practically convulsing, he was shaking so hard, he was a pale grey and covered in sweat. He was completely naked aside from a pair of brown stained tighty-whitey underwear. He had soiled himself and his face was inches from a puddle of vomit. He had bruises up his legs and angry red lines Trixie assumed were track marks going up his arms. He looked like he'd lost at least 20 pounds in the past 5 days.
Trixie crouched down, putting a hand on Kat's clammy shoulder. If he thought his heart was breaking when he walked in on him using, it was now ground to dust. "Bri?" He shook his shoulder slightly and said it louder. Katya didn't move, he let out a little moan, he was barely breathing in short, shallow little gasps with far to much time in between. He leaned right into Bri's ear and yelled his name, he didn't care if he woke up Ace. Let Sam be afraid of her.
She stirred at the jostling of the bed. "What the fuck is with the earthquake?" She opened one eye and sprang to sitting up so fast that Trixie fell backwards in surprise but quickly scrambled back up. "Hi Ace, I'm Brian, here to pick up this Brian, remember we spoke on the phone? How long has he been like this?"
"Oh yeah hi! I dunno, the past day or two." She said with a shrug.
Trixie pulled his phone out of his back pocket, "he needs an ambulance."
Ace shared an alarmed look with Sam, who was behind him and he felt the cold metal of the gun against his neck, making his skin crawl, "sorry man, I can't let you do that. They'll bring the police." Sam apologized.
Trixie held up his hands and phone slowly, "take it," he breathed, "keep it, please just let me take him away with me."
Sam took it but grumbled indignantly, "I don't want your fucking phone man, I ain't no thief! I'll give it back to you at the door."
The cold metal was removed from the base of his neck but the goosebumps remained, now that he knew his head wasn't going to be blown off, he tried to rouse Katya one last time with no luck.
The first time he tried to pick up Katya, he didn't get very far. He was like handling a cold, shaking wet fish. Katya was not heavy in general but Trixie struggled with the dead weight and trying not to drop him. He managed to finally pick him up bridal style and moved as fast as he could after Sam. He had to stop twice to lean against the wall and readjust Bri's weight to get a better grip. His head flopped back sickly, letting out a crack at one point that made Trixie wince. He tried to move side to side til his head was no longer flopped straight back. Katya didn't stir at all, Trixie wasn't even sure he was breathing at this point but he couldn't do anything about it until they were out and away from the house. Sam stuck his head out the door and looked around, letting Trixie eek out past him, he tucked Trixie's phone in his denim shirt pocket. "Take care man, hope he's ok." Trixie got a few steps out of the door when Sam slammed it behind him, making him jump and almost drop his precious cargo. He heard the click of the door being locked and then Ace’s shrill voice screaming for Sam.
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