#do i continue

[apollos-boyfriend]

OH WAIT RIGHT ITS PRIDE MONTH. should i bring back fagtainsparklez again

[horny4hetfield]

Just smile and wave boys

This one just popped outta me!

Anxiety attacks prominent

I hate these!  The award shows.  I can usually dodge out of them, but not this one.  This is a biggie.  The Oscars.  My novel has been made into a movie.  And it’s been nominated in several categories.  Including – surprisingly - Best Picture.  I arrive in LA two days before the show.  My agent, Phyllis, has been glued to my side since my flight from Seattle landed.  She’s from the deep south.  With a heavy drawl.  “Just making sure that you have everything you need, honey!” 

I mentally roll my eyes as I look out the town car’s window.

Arriving at the hotel, I know that the luggage will be sent to the room.  Phyllis already has the room key, so she escorts me to the elevator.  Getting to my room, I’m thankful for the A/C.  It’s hot outside.  I go to the window and stand over the unit blowing cold air.

“Honey, how ya doin?” I can see the grin in Phyllis’ voice.

“Melting.”

She laughs, resting a hand on my shoulder, “Now Kira, you c’mon over and have a seat.  Get your blood out of it’s flood and you’ll cool right down.”  She turns to collect the luggage from the bellhop when he knocks.  She puts my case up on the luggage stand.  “You have a dinner to night at 7pm with the movie cast.  Then there’s the book signing in Hollywood tomorrow mid-day.”

“Hey Phyllis.  It was a rough flight.  I think I want to take a shower and check my emails” I smile – hopefully – kindly.

“Oh goodness!  Of course!  Of Course!”  She collects up her satchel filled with notebooks, binders, computer tablets, phones, cords, snacks, vitamins, hairpins, band aids...I think if she dug deep enough, she’d pull out the Crown Jewels.  “I’ll be back about 5:45 to collect you.  I’m being told that traffic will be absolutely horrendous until Monday.”  She pats my arm, “Now.  You go unwind.”  As she heads towards the door, “Oh!  The basket is from the director.  He was so nice!  He delivered it himself!”

“I will have to look at it” as I gently usher Phyllis towards the door.  “Thank you for getting things organized.”

“Ohhhoh Honey!  This is what I do!” Phyllis giggles.  She pulls open the door “I’ll be back later!”  I watch her almost flit down the hallway.  I have no idea where she’s staying as I close the door.  There is only one bed in the room.  So, hopefully, she won’t be staying with me. 

I’d kill her.

Locking the door, I heave a sigh and go check out the goodie basket.  It’s massive, and it's filled with lots of cookies, chocolates, nuts and candies.  There’s a large bottle of champagne.  The holes between the containers are filled in with roses.  There’s a note:  Kira,  Thanks for the wonderful novel!  Thank you for trusting it to me.  We’ll see you tomorrow!  Hugs and Kisses!

I set the note down and collect a small box of shortbread cookies.  I find a long movie on the TV keeping the volume low, but enough to fill the room.  From my luggage, I grab my bag of bath salts and the cleanout cover.  Then the big ass fluffy robe from the hotel closet.  In the bathroom, I leave the lights off.  I start the hot water, dump in the salts and put the plastic device over the tub cleanout which lifts the water level.  Dropping all my clothes, I grab the cookie box and step into the tub.  It’s a deep tub.  When the water is deep enough, I turn off the taps.  And lean back into the waters.  And munch the cookies slowly.  I might have to actually watch this movie.  I like the dialog.

When the waters cool, I open the drain and step out of the tub.  Wrapping the hotel robe around me, I go out and sit on the bed.  Changing the channel on the TV, I check the news.  The heat is the lead story.

About 5, I start getting dressed for dinner.  Since this is in a restaurant that will be closed for the event, I go for the business casual.  Tailored slacks, blouse and strappy short heels.  All black.  I rebrush my hair and touch up the makeup. 

As I’m putting some things into my clutch bag, there’s a knock on the door.  Smoothing my blouse down, I answer the knock.  It’s Phyllis.

“Oh Honey!  You look adorable!”

Turning back into the room “Thank you” I smile gently.  Grabbing my clutch and room key “I’m ready” I smile.

“Time’s a-wasting” Phyllis grins.

I follow the woman down the hallway, she can be annoying as hell, but she has a good heart.  And the deal she landed me for the movie had a lot of zeros in it.

Dinner is nice.  The food excellent.  I decline the wine.  “You ok Honey?” Phyllis leans into me.

“I’m fine.  Just dehydrated from the flight.”

Phyllis pats my arm and returns to her conversation.

When dinner is finished, I get a hug from the people near me.  That I happily return.  We all wander to the exit and collect our car service sedans.

Getting back to my hotel room, I quickly change and climb into the sheets.  I curl around a pillow.  Missing my cats.

There’s a ringing.  I blink.  And grab the hotel phone.  “mmmyeah.”

“Good morning Honey!” Phyllis’ voice is almost as bright as the sun.

I look at the clock.  “Phyllis.  It’s 7:30” I groan.

“And the sedan will be downstairs in an hour.  I have already ordered you breakfast.”  There’s a knock on the door.

“It’s here” I mumble setting the handset on the bed and waddle to the door.  Opening it, the waiter pushes the cart in.  I sign the room charge and go back to the bed.  “Ok. Phyllis.  What time do we need to leave.”

“In an hour Honey.”

“Then I need to go.”

“See you in an hour!”

I hang up.  Eat my breakfast.  Put the cart in the hallway.  Take off last night’s makeup.  Wash my face.  Get dressed – classic slacks, flowery light weight blouse.  Put on fresh makeup.  I’m changing purses when the knock on the door announces Phyllis.  I open the door and she almost hits me in the face with my coffee.  Yet another reason, why I won’t kill her.  “Thank you!!!!” as I take the cup and chug about half of it.

“Now, Honey.  The store has everything setup.  There will be some local reporters there …”

As Phyllis jabbers – thinking that I’m paying attention – I gather up my purse and put on shoes.  Making sure I have my room key “Ready!” I chime.

Phyllis plants her hands on her hips “Did you hear a word that I said, Honey?”

I shrug as I walk into the hallway “There will be local reporters?”

Phyllis snorts out a short snappy breath as she closes the door.  “It’s a wonder you get anywhere on time” she grumbles under her breath.

Turning to walk backwards a couple of steps, I give Phyllis a big smile “That’s what I you for!”

Phyllis chortles “Ohh paashaw!” and blushes slightly.

It takes about ninety minutes to get to the bookstore.  Morning weekend LA traffic, road blocks for construction, a couple of accidents slow us down.  Getting to the store, there’s a line down the block.  My heart rate ramps up.  I practice the yoga breathing my therapist taught me.  Meeting lots of people at one time triggers anxiety in me.  Sometimes bad.  The more people, the bigger the attack.  Once parked and in the store, I ask to use the bathroom.  Once in the stall, there goes breakfast. 

And my coffee. 

Leaning on the sink after flushing, I look at myself in the mirror.  “Just one face at a time.  Just one face at a time” I whisper to myself.

“Kira, honey?  You ok?”  Phyllis does not know about the therapist.  She does know about my anxiety.

“I’m ok.  It’s just hot” I whine softly.

“I have some electrolyte waters.  C’mon honey.  Let’s get one into you.”  She gently takes my elbow and leads me to the store managers office. 

I chug the bottle.  While I sit at the managers’ desk, I sign some promotional posters, a dozen books for an auction to support the local women’s shelter, and one for the store Owners daughter.  Clapping his hands, the manager’s eyes sparkle “Are you ready Miss Mooreland?”

As I stand “Please.  It’s Kira.”  I let him escort me to the small platform that has been set up.  The line of people applaud and cheer.  I give a wave.  Then take the chair behind the table.  With a massive stack of books to my right.  All of them pre-orders.

I let out the breath I didn’t know I was holding.  Just one face at time.   Just one face at a time  My mind mumbles.  Collecting a new sharpie, I smile at the first person in line.  “Hi!  I bet you have been in line forever” I chortle.

The next two hours I spend signing books.  Phyllis and the manager keep each person to two minutes.  I apologize to a couple that with the number of people and my schedule, I wish I could spend more time with each person.  I do stay to make sure that every pre-ordered book gets signed for those that couldn’t attend.

I finally depart the platform and use the toilet again.  Sitting down this time.  When I exit the bathroom, Phyllis almost slaps me in the face with another bottle of sports drink.  I think she might have a depth perception problem.

Then it’s back in the car and headed towards the Dolby.  There’s a stop at the store for the final fitting of my gown.  The thin little shoulder straps need to be tighten up.  It will be delivered tomorrow by 8am to my room.  Getting back into the car, my right knee starts bouncing.

“Honey?”  Phyllis put her fingertips on my knee.  “You ok?”

I shake my head “It’s all just a little overwhelming.”

“Oh honeychiiild, the show will be so worth it all!” Phyllis pats my knee.  The big car turns into a shopping arcade.  Filled with people.  “Now, just a couple of quick chats with reporters!”

I honestly think that Phyllis is enjoying all this hoopla.  I have been to other awards ceremonies.  Been awarded a couple.  But nothing like this.

The big car pulls to a stop inside the garage and Phyllis pulls me out.  She leads me to a table – under a rather large umbrella – and plops me into a chair.  Then hands me a sports drink and a bottle of water.  I chug half the water and mix the two bottles, handing the empty one back to Phyllis just as a national reporter sits in the seat across from me.  The lights and camera setups have all been pre-arranged so that the reporter(s) can just sit and start asking questions.

I manage to get four sessions done before I stand “Phyllis, I need a break.”  And walk towards the parking garage.  I’m desperately looking for a quiet nook.  A hidden cranny.  Trying to slow down my racing heart and panting breaths.  I whimper when I find a little spot tucked in beside two empty vending machines.  I squat down and lean on the machine.  The warm wall on my left side.  I close my eyes … and breathe … concentrating on my breathing.

“Monnika!  Did I wake you?”  There are pacing footsteps coming from the sound of the voice.  “Did I wake the baby? ….. I’m sorry.      Really, I am.  I know its hard to get her back to sleep.       A walk on the beach sounds relaxing!      That cuddle bag should be in the back seat.  I left there when I got back from grocery shopping.”  The pacing foot steps stop.   “Yeah.    A walk sounds wonderful.    Don’t forget the sunblock.    I love you” the voice purrs.   The footsteps get louder and closer to me.  “Hey?  You ok?” the voice quiet and kind.

I open my eyes slowly, my head wobbling some “Anxiety attack.”  I realize I’m looking at Kirk Hammet.  Kirk ‘The Ripper’ Hammet.

“God dammit those suck!  My best friend suffers from them.”  He kneels down “How can I help?”

I realize that I can’t stand up on my own.  “Uhmmm.  I’m stuck.”

“here” he chortles and takes both my hands.  I manage to get to my feet.  “I’m Kirk by the way.”

“Kira” I smile at him.

“Kira?”  he looks at me.  “Like in the author? Kira?”  I just nod.  “Monnika – my wife – loves your book!”

“Thanks!”  I crinkle my nose at him gently “I kinda like your music” as I brush off my slacks.

“Thanks!”  He looks at me, “Are you sure you’re ok?”

“I’ll let you know after the show tomorrow” I give him a weak smile.  “Would you like to give your wife a signed book?”

“Fuk yes!” his eyes light up.

“C’mon!” I snicker.

Getting back to Phyllis, she’s calming the new reporter.   Heaving a sigh, I dig into her bag.  Sure enough, there’s a book in there.  I take it, personalize it and sign.  Then hand it over to Kirk.  “Thanks for the hand up.”

Kirk gives me a smile “Any time.”

“Kira!  Honey!  Andy is here!”

I give Kirk a small wave and re-take the chair.

It seems like a zillion hours later, Phyllis is taking me back to the sedan.  She’s rambling on about more chats and a dinner and a cocktail party tonight.  I beg off on all.  “It’s my first Oscars.  I’d really like to get to bed to enjoy tomorrow” I smile at her.

“Of course honey” she kinda pouts looking at her notepad.

“But hey, you go.  Make my apologies.”

Her face brightens “Of course honey!  I will be happy to make your apologies!” she almost bounces in the seat.

At the hotel, I beat a hasty retreat to my room.  I close the curtains, drop all my clothes and turn on the TV.  The news is nothing but Oscar coverage.  “Nope” I grunt and find a movie.  Then go take another small packet of cookies from the basket and pull myself another full tub.

I never in a million years thought that something that I wrote would be so popular.  I write what I like - romance, porn and vampires.  I write just to fill my time.  Having a pair of blown out knees doesn’t lead to many good work situations.  And I get to have my cats close by.  I almost brought the big one.  But decided that he would hate the heat.

Draining the tub when the movie ends, I pull on a pair of sweats and a tank top.  Then order myself a pizza.  The next movie is just getting past the intro when my dinner is delivered.  I curl up into the bed and let the world disappear.

The phone is ringing.   “nghyea” I groan.

“Oh honey!  Last night was amazing!  Now.  I have ordered you breakfast.  I will be down with your coffee shortly!”  And the call ends.

I slide off the bed at the knock on the door, collect the pizza box and hand it off to the bellhop standing there with my breakfast.  I leave the deadbolt out so that the door doesn’t close all the way.  I’m just getting the toast buttered when Phyllis blows in like a hurricane hitting the Gulf Coast.  Six people follow her into the room.  And all start hounding me immediately with questions, asking me to move to the bathroom, to open the drapes …

“Can I please finish my breakfast!” I snap.

Phyllis puts a large cup into my hand “She hasn’t had her coffee yet” she purrs.  Four of the people nod in understanding and step back.

“Thank you” I tell the room.

Twenty minutes later, I’m being dressed like I’m a princess late for the ball.  I hear two of the hair technicians saying that they can’t believe that they get to do someone’s hair.  I can’t hear whom because the blow dryer is pointed almost directly into my ear.

After technicians finish their task, they leave my room to go to someone else’s room.  The last thing is the dress.  It is pretty.  But a little fussy for my likes.  I did have them remove about two tons of ruffles from it, much to Phyllis’ dismay.

The last guy in my room helps me put on my shoes.  “Thank you” I grin at him. 

He fusses with my dress some.  “I heard that this is your first Oscars, mamma” he whispers conspiratorially at me.

“It is.”

“I hope you win!  I just love that rogue Roland.  Although, the man playing the role in the movie was good looking, he just lacked something.”

“I totally agree.  But I didn’t have any say in the casting” and we both snicker.  Leaning in a little closer “Would you like a signed copy?”

“ohhhh!   Yes mamma!” he almost bounces.

On the dresser beside Phyllis’ satchel is a box of books.  I pull one out and sign it.  Handing it to the lad “Happy reading!”

“Good luck tonight!” he snickers, then grabs his tool kit and almost skips from the room.

I find the small clutch bag that came with the dress, tuck in my ID, credit card, room key and a couple of tissues.  Phyllis is holding court with her team around the table.  “Ready” I grin.

“Don’t you just look a dream!” Phyllis grins.  “Now” as she simultaneously grabs her notepad and looks at her watch “The sedan should be downstairs in about five minutes.  So!  Perfect timing!” as she escorts me to the door, then to the elevator.

Getting into the lobby, it’s complete chaos.  People everywhere.  Most milling around.  A couple hustling to get to the other side of the lobby.  All of them talking.  Loudly.  My heart leaps into my throat.  I try to do my breathing.  But I keep getting jostled.  I see the cast from the movie.  One waves to me.  Feeling some relief, I start heading over there.  Phyllis’ phone rings.  “Yes!    Uh huh    uh huh      Fine” she ends the call.  “Honey, something has come up.  You go on over to the cast.  I have something to take care of.”  She turns and dashes away.  My safety net is pushing her way through the crowd … away from me.  I know that fear is etched onto my face as I look around.  At the people filling the room.  It seems like more people are filling the room.  Completely.

A large pair of hands wrap around my upper arms “Come with me” is the gentle rumble.  I am being guided across the lobby and out the front doors.  Into the air.  Granted hot as hell air.  But air.  I suck in a shaky breath.  “Better?” comes the rumble again.

I turn to look at the owner of the hands … and find myself looking into the stunning blue eyes of James Hetfield.  Metallica had done the song for the big fight scene in the movie.  I had suggested them gently to the producers.  And that song is also nominated for an Oscar.  Best Song.  But I didn’t think they’d be here.  Like here … here.  I let out the breath I was holding “Yes.  I think so.”  I know I’m blushing “I don’t do big events … like this” I kinda point back over my shoulder.

“I don’t like them either” he gives me a wonky smile.  “Kirk told me that he’d helped you yesterday.  He saw that you were having … a problem in the lobby  ….”

“I have no idea where my agent disappeared to.  She took a call.  The last time she told me that ‘something came up,’ I couldn’t get into my house for a week because of a river flooding.”

“Where do you live?”

“In the foothills outside Seattle.”  James stands with me, talking.  About everything.  And nothing.  I finally look up at him “Aren’t you needed with the others?” as I point towards his band mates.

He gives me a wonky smile, “If Lars needed me, I’d know!  Hell, the whole lobby would know!”  I giggle.  “Besides, talking with you is keeping my own anxiety from triggering.”

“Glad I can help” I mumble.

The transportation coordinator calls out my movie.  James offers me his elbow with a lifted eyebrow.  Several large vehicles stand in the road under a canopy.  The cast gets into two.  The producers, director and others get into a second one.

Moving me with him to the last one “Guess you’re riding with the band” James grins.

As I approach the vehicle, Kirk is almost bouncing.  “I told Monnika about the signed book.  That made her day!”

“I’m glad!”  I hike up the skirt on the dress, James puts one hand on my back the other on my right elbow and makes sure that I get into the vehicle.  He steps up right after.  “Here” he points to a front seat “You take that one.”  I sink into the bucket high-backed seat next to the window.  James takes the one to my right … stretching his legs out between the drivers’ and co-pilot’s seats.  He looks at me with a grin.  Rob and Chloe get in taking the seats one row back.  Kirk and Lars take the seats in the third row.  The hotel staff closes the vehicle door and we start moving.

Kirk taps my shoulder “Let me introduce you to the others!”

“Kirk” I smile at him “I suggested you guys for that song.”

Lars looks shocked.  “You?”

“Is that so shocking?” I return a wonky, eyebrow scrunched up look at the Dane.

He shrugs, “I just thought that you’d be listening to classical or opera.”

Nodding “I like classical – at Christmas.  And I’ll go to the opera once .. in awhile.”

“When was the last time you went?” Chloe asks.

I slump some thinking.  “Ten years ago?”

There’s laughter in the car.  I look at James.  He gives me a glorious smile that reaches his stunning blue eyes.  The six of us in the big van chit chat on the way to the theatre.  I slowly sink a little deeper into the seat.  James literally drops his left hand on my right thigh palm up.  I look up at him, then his hand.  His fingers wiggle gently.  I slide my tiny little hand into his very large paw.  He doesn’t close his hand over mine, but uses his thumb to rub my knuckles gently.  I shiver and smile.  Neither of us talk the rest of the drive. 

The big vehicle pulls to a stop in front of the huge tent setup over the red carpet for the walkup.  James leans into me as he shifts his legs towards the door “Just stay beside me” he smiles.

“Thanks” I whisper as I let him gently pull me from the car.

As if he is working with James, Kirk comes up on my left side and takes that arm.  “Thanks” I whisper towards the other guitarist.  My breath hitches some as I see the large quantity of people lining both sides of the carpet that is also filled with people.  Lots of people.  Simultaneously Kirk squeezes my left arm as James fully engulfs my right hand in his, wobbling it gently with a small smile that lifts the corners of his mustached upper lip.  Kirk leans in “Just smile and wave” he chortles.

I snort a stiff giggle.

Getting to the first photo op marker, someone from the Oscars tries to pull me to the side.  Lars steps up saying that it’s all good.  Then we are shifted to the next.  I follow Kirk and James’ lead, starting at the left looking at the cameras, smiling.  Although the tent helps, it’s hot.  It feels like it’s getting hotter.  The photographers are yelling “Look this way!”  “Over here please!”  “James, whose with you?”  “Rob over here!”  We are shifted again.  The voices calling are incessant.  The heat feels hotter.  I start to tremble as I force the smile.  James looks down at me.  He leans into Lars’ ear.  Then he’s wrapping his left arm around my back, his right hand holding mine.  He almost carries me down the rest of the red carpet.  Just inside the doors to the theater, James takes me down a side hallway to a bench making me sit.  My breathing is starting to hitch.

An usher hurries over “Are you ok?”

“Water and a sports drink please” James rumbles nicely at the man.  Then he’s squatting in front of me “Kira.  Breathe in.”  He pats my knees “Kira” his voice a little sharp.  My eyes snap to his.  “C’mon follow me.   Breathe in” he rumbles gently.  “Exhale ……. Inhale …… exhale ……. Inhale …… exhale …”

The usher returns.  Seeing what’s going on he stands with his back to us, facing the main hallway.  Blocking the view of my anxiety attack.  He’s holding the bottles behind his back.  As my breathing slows, James takes the water bottle “Sip” he smiles.

I do.  Then look at him “I just made a fool of myself” I mumble.

“Now Miss” the usher turns.  “That heat gets the best of us sometimes” he turns slightly giving me a knowing look.  “At least Mr. Hetfield kept you from collapsing to the ground.”

“I did” he hikes an eyebrow at me.  Then looks up at the Usher “Please.  James.”

Nodding and offering the sports drink “James” the usher nods.

I take the sports drink and swallow some.  It’s not my favorite flavor and I guess it shows on my face.  “What flavor do you prefer?” James grins.

“Grape or fruit punch” I slump some.  The usher produces a grape one.  “Thank you” I mumble.

“James” Lars comes up the hallway.  “You two ok?”

The usher steps down the hallway some, still blocking the view.

“M’ok” I mumble.

Jame stands and gives Lars a knowing look “Heat.”

Nodding and looking at me with kind eyes “I understand.”

My shoulders sag  “This is my first time at an awards this …. Big.”

Chloe pats my shoulder “It is overwhelming the first time” her grin gloriously re-assuring.  Both she and James lift me from the bench.  James tucks my hand into his left elbow.  I’m still holding the sports drink.  Chloe takes my left hand into her elbow but takes the water bottle. 

I heave a massive sigh.  “I’m sorry ….”

“Stop” Lars looks at me.  “It’s ok.  We’ll help you get through this!”

I know I’m blushing “Thanks everyone.”

“Now” Kirk grins, “Let’s find our seats.”

The usher is a little un-nerved when we get to their assigned row.  Chloe goes into the row first followed by Rob.  Then Kirk, with Lars hard on his heels.  James puts me next and he takes the aisle seat.  Another usher kneels on the seat in front of me with a nasty look.  Lars stands and talks with the man, who makes some notes on his notepad and almost storms away.  I look at James then to Lars.  “It’s alright” he snorts.  “We’re Metallica.  We cause havoc where ever we go” as he retakes his seat.

James leans over and whispers into my ear “Welcome to the havoc!”  I giggle. 

When the opening of the show starts, I heave a sigh.  I look around at the stars sitting around me.  Three rows up are my producers, director, et al.  The row in front of them are the main actors. 

The Best Song category is about halfway through the show.  I fidget a little as there’s a camera now in the aisle pointing at this row.  I hold my breath as the envelope is opened.

They win.

James stands then leans into me “If you’ll step out it will make it easier…”

“Of course” as I stand and move into the aisle.  The others step out and head down the aisle to the stage.  The next thing I know, James has looped an arm around my waist and is ushering me with them to the stage.  I tense up some.  “I got you” he rumbles with a smile.

They are each handed a trophy.  Lars moves to the mic.  He thanks the Metallica people and the movie crew.  Then he points to me “And Kira Moorland!  She was the one who suggested that Metallica take on that challenge.  And we thank you!” he turns and looks at me with a massive grin.

“I’m glad you accepted!” I speak up.  People in the front row snicker.

James offers me his elbow as we all get ushered off the stage.  I take it with a small smile.  They step forward to do the quick Q&A.  Then we are escorted back to our seats.  Chloe and Rob get a little smoochy before retaking their seats. 

The movie earns three more awards: Best Leading Actor, Best Director, Best Supporting Actress.  I give all three a standing ovation.

Of course, the Best Picture is the last award of the night.  Again, I hold my breath.

The movie wins.

“Yes!” I bark out.

The director walks up the aisle grinning like a madman.  “C’mon Kira!”  James stands to let me out.  “C’mon you guys!  You’re as much a part of this win as she is!” the director grins.  James tucks my hand in to his elbow again.  Up on the stage, he puts me in front of him.  His fingers gently molding around my waist.

The director thanks the usuals.  He too thanks Metallica for the song.  Then he points to me “And thanks to this lovely soul, I had the best story to make.  Kira.  Thank you for trusting me … us .. with your story.”

I press my fingers to my lips and blow him kisses.  James squeezes my shoulders.  Lars wraps his arm around mine “Congratulations!”

Again, we are all ushered off the stage.  I slow my steps making James slow down too.  He leans into my ear “You ok?”  I slowly shake my head.  Moving to stand behind me, he looks down the hallway to the mass of reporters crowding in the Q&A space.  The small raised area filled to beyond capacity with the others from the movie.  The director is talking to the reporters.

I slowly shake my head “I can’t.    I can’t.     I can’t” as I start to shiver.

“Hey Lars” James motions to his longtime buddy.  “Kira’s had enough.”

Pulling the fresh toothpick from his teeth “Go.”  His face filled with concern.  “I’ll cover.  Go.”

Kirk leans in “This heat just sucks the energy out of everyone” he smiles gently at me.

Lars smacks Kirk’s shoulder.  “Everyone but you.  It just makes you sweat more.”

James gently turns me away from the Q&A space as the others continue down the hallway.  Another usher points us towards where we can get a car service sedan – without being seen.  I get into the back seat and slide over behind the driver as James steps in.  He leans into the front seat talking with the driver.  Then he gently snakes an arm around my waist and tugs me closer to his side.

I don’t pay attention to where the car is going.  I just know that it’s away from the crowds.  The crush of people.  I finally lot a shuddering sigh.

“You ok?” he almost purrs at me.

I nod, “I think so.”  I look into his face.  “How about you?”

He shrugs “I didn’t have to sing, so not bad.”

When the sedan exits the freeway, I sit up some.  “Where are we?”

James gives me a wonky grin “My old stomping grounds.”  He looks out the window “I haven’t been in this area in about twenty years.”

“Have things changed much?” I watch his face.

“Some things have.  Some … not.  Wait!  Is that a Hopdoody?   Hey,” he leans over the front seat again “Mind if we stop!”

“Sure” the driver grins.  He parks the car and James climbs out of the back seat.

“C’mon!  I’m not going to make you starve!” he wave the driver to follow, just before taking my hand.  James gives me a wicked broad grin and almost skips to the entrance of the place.  My stomach complains loudly when we walk into the place.  “You hungry?” he snorts.

“Liddle bit” I snicker.   The menu is vast.  “You know this place.  What do you recommend.”

James just grins “It’s all good!”  Then he steps up to the register.  “I’ll take the Goodnight.  A shareable fries.  I want a soda.  Kira?” he looks at me.

“I’d like the Roosevelt and a soda.”

“That’s a big burger” James grins at me.

“I have eaten since 8am!”

“ok!”  James turns to the driver “Order up!”

“Serious?” his eyebrows merging with his hairline.

“Very.  Order” James nods.

“An El Diablo!”

“Good order!” James snorts.  Before the driver or I can get a card out, James has tapped his phone to pay.

Looking up at him “Thank you.”  I feel like I’m a teenager on a first date.

“Yeah, thanks!” the driver nods.

We find a table outside.  When the order is delivered I just look at the burger in front of me.   “Everything OK miss?” the waiter asks.

“Uhmm.”  I look down at the gown.  “I might need a shower curtain” I mumble.

James snorts then “We need napkins, please.”

“oh yeah sure” the waiter grins.  A minute or so later he reappears and sets a stack of napkins on the table.  “One of the girls offered this” and he holds up a plastic tablecloth.

Snorting in laughter “I’ll take it!” as I reach for it.  James’ eyebrows knot together as the waiter helps tie the cloth around my neck while I spread the plastic over my gown.  “It’s a $32,000 gown!”

Nodding exaggeratedly “I get it now.”  He picks up his burger, takes a bite … and a large plop of sauces lands on his thigh.  “Shit” he looks down.  “Can I get one of those?” he points to the cloth covering me.  I look at him.  “It’s a $5k tux.”  The waiter quickly disappears.

The driver’s eyes pop open wide “Is that the Bironi?”

“Yeah” as James wipes the goop off his thigh “it is.”

The waiter returns with another plastic table cloth, a kitchen cloth towel and some mineral water.  “uhhhm.”

“Here” as I take the cloth and the mineral water.  I work on the goop stain, trying to not think that this thigh belongs to James fucking Hetfield.  “There.  Those slacks will still need to be sent to the cleaners as soon as possible.”

James takes the second plastic tablecloth tucking a large wad into the collar of his shirt spreading the balance of it over his legs “Thanks” he grins at me.  Then takes another bite.  Followed by another plop.

I snort out a hard laugh.  So does the driver.  James just shrugs and continues to eat.

The three of us talk about the awards as we munch our dinners.  Some of the technical awards are discussed at length.  The memorial section we all agree was tastefully done, especially since this year there were quite a few that had passed. 

The driver looks to me “What inspired you to write the book?”

It’s my turn to shrug.  “It was a story that I wanted to hear.  I hadn’t read it in any other books.  So I wrote it.”

The driver looks to James – who is finishing his soda  “Did you know the story when you wrote the song?”

“I didn’t.  But Jess and Chloe did.  A couple others in the office had also read the book.  So, we had a pizza party to discuss the book and consider what to write.”  He wraps up the burger paper – and belches loudly.  “Sorry.  That one slipped!”

I press my fingers to my lips and let out a good sized one myself.  “Thanks.  I’d been holding that one in.”

“Oh man!  Don’t do that!  That’s not good for you!” James chuckles – just as the driver lets one rip.

And three of us burst out laughing.

James takes the trash – including both tablecloths – inside.  When he finally returns, he’s holding three shakes.  “The chocolate brownie one is mine” He snarks.  “You two get to fight over the Tres Leches and the strawberry ones."  My hand flies out and snatches up the Tre Leches one.  James looks at me then the driver “Hope you like Strawberry.”

He grins “Actually, I do!”

“C’mon.  Let’s go!” James chuckles.

As I stand I lean into the driver’s ear, “Where is he taking me?”

The driver snickers around a sip of his shake “thssecreth.”

James spins back to face me holding out a hand “C’mon Kira!” he chuckles.

I take his offered hand as we walk back to the car.  We are quickly back on the road.  It’s only a short time later that the car pulls into a beach park.  Once the sedan is parked, James slides out and almost pulls me out with him.  He leads me across the parking lot.  The soft sound of waves lapping at the shore greets me.  As does the fresh salt air.  Still working on my shake, I lean into his side when James’ arm wraps around my waist.  He leads me down the Huntington Pier to the end.  Being tucked into his side feels … comfortable.  Natural.

The night sky is flooded with the bright full moon, which washes out the starlight.  The moon’s beams bounce around on the ripples of the ocean.  We are the only ones here.  No children screaming.  No arguments over space on the beach.  No boomboxes competing for who is the loudest. No seagulls screaming just to scream.  Just the waves.

James leans on the railing “How you doing?” he rumbles gently.

I look into the cup holding the last of the shake, then back to James and those damned blue eyes.  “Much better, thank you” I smile at him.

He traces a lazy pattern on the back of my hand “I have a question.”

“Yes.”

He looks deeply into my eyes.  There’s something hidden there that I haven’t noticed before.  “Several people have told me that they think … you modeled the lead man ….” he scuffs the soles of his shoes on the pier “after me” his voice drops lower still.  I look down in to the cup again, chewing on the corner of my lower lip.  His large forefinger gently cups under my chin lifting my face to his.  “I’ll take that as a yes” he purrs at me, his eyes glowing softly.

I nod slowly.  My nipples instantly, painfully hard.  I’m soaking my thong.  I shiver violently.

“How did you know?” he rumbles as he loops one arm around my waist, the other hand taking the cup and setting it down on the railing behind him.

“Know what?” I whisper.

His eyebrows flit together quickly as he stares into my eyes while his other arm wraps around me too.  “You really don’t know” his smile grows.

All I can do is slowly shake my head, my eyes locked to his, my body quivers gently, my hands resting on his upper arms as he pulls me closer.

James leans into me.  Kisses me.  I gasp into his lips. 

“This is what you don’t know” he purrs.  He closes his lips, tightens his grip on me.  Then smiles at me, his lips parting gently.

His fangs gleam in the moonlight.

[multihaven]

how I feel after the last 4-5 days writing

[mla0]

i like that no matter the ship or circumstance it is generally agreed that stormy is gayer than an actual rainbow

[firemarked]

He didn't realize he'd been driving in the opposite direction of his apartment until he pulled up in front of Eddie's house. At three forty-six in the morning. In fact, he didn't realize he'd been driving around aimlessly after that explosive dinner with his parents for five and a half hours, but who's counting, really?

Buck didn't know what drew him to end up here, on his best friend's porch, with daylight slowly creeping up below the horizon. (He did, actually. It's like there's this string that always leads back to Eddie). What he did know, however, is that his entire life had been blown to pieces with only a few words.

"You're not our son."

"Our son wouldn't have been queer."

"He wouldn't have needed therapy, either."

"You were supposed to fill the void from our loss, but you just made our lives harder to live."

"Our son was stillborn—you're adopted."

"We don't want you in our lives. We don't want you in Madeline's life, or the baby's life."

"Don't contact us. It'll only make things worse."

"You never belonged to us."

That's the feeling he'd been chasing his entire life; a sense of belonging. For someone to want him, for someone to want to stay.

For a family.

And as the last shred of what he believed his family to be slipped through his fingers, he found himself alone. Driving around until he ended up in the one place that felt like home, even if he didn't truly belong there. Eddie is his best friend, his partner, the person he trusts most in this world; but he is not Buck's. Buck has no claim to either of the Diaz boys, or any of their extended family, no matter how much he wishes for it to be different. Being Eddie's best friend is enough, he tells himself. It's enough, it's enough. It's enough.

It's not enough.

Buck doesn't get what he wants. He hides his true feelings while pretending that his heart's on his sleeve. In truth, it's exposed—his ribs have cracked and bruised and scarred over from the pain and anguish he's found himself in over and over again. There is no rib cage to protect the very thing that is keeping him alive. He wants Eddie; wants him like he's never wanted anyone else before. And the scariest part is that he has him—in all ways but the forever kind. Buck knows deep down inside of the darkest parts of him, that their friendship won't last Eddie finding someone. They'd go from best friends who spend every waking moment together, to casual work friends they see at work-related functions. But their friendship doesn't matter. The only thing that does matter, is Eddie's happiness. He deserves the stability and love from another, and so does Christopher. Chris deserves all the world and more, and Buck's not enough for them.

He's—not enough. Not enough for his parents to love him like their own. Not enough to be an uncle, or a brother, or a friend. Not enough to be a partner or a father or a son.

He never will be. He's alone in this world once again. Loneliness is frighteningly like riding a bike. You never truly forget it. Existing in loneliness feels like coming home to a cold, dead house; but coming home all the same.

So, Buck doesn't knock on Eddie's door at three fifty-seven in the morning. He doesn't wait on the porch until his best friend swings the door open, grumbling and rumpled with sleep, complaining about how Buck has his own goddamn key, why didn't you just use it? Buck doesn't spill all the truths he's been cateloging in his empty chest cavity—and he doesn't get rejected by the one person that he won't be able to bounce back from.

Chris has school in a few hours. Waking Eddie up comes with the risk of waking his son. And nothing could ever make Buck jeopardize any part of Christopher's routine.

Instead, Buck turns on his heel, walking toward his empty car, so he can drive back to his empty apartment and fall apart in peace. He has no one.

He doesn't belong anywhere.

...

"Buck? Buck!"

"He's in there with the bomber!"

"Evan!"

[ellen-reincarnated1967]

Honesty Hour

[

Does anyone who follows me want me to keep working on fics and producing them? Because i honestly feel like no one cares.

]

I'm not looking for pity or whatever, I'm just trying to figure out why I'm even doing this anymore.

[besogolden]

ive been reading throttled n i thought i would love it but loike………..no

[jawns-butt]

ok but ruination au of arcane ep9, where the nuke makes contact but so does the mist at the exact same time, and then its actually scary (sentinals of light event cough) and body horror shit happens and the boys. well. it doesnt go well, but it doesnt go terribly either:

They’d heard the whispers about the spread of the foul mist that permeated the Shadow Isles, leaving silence in its wake. It was crawling outwards, spoiling the edges of Runeterra with death and a plague of madness, and yet...it was distant. Too far away to even consider considering, not whilst the undercity rebelled and Piltover struggled to keep the power. The thick air that clogged lungs in the undercity and spread into topside’s fresh skies seemed a darker, more insidious threat than the one to the far east of the world’s landmass.

So whilst they were fighting over Hextech, over gemstones and politics and equality, the world became infected with The Ruined King’s dark magic, and not even the City of Progress could stop it.

Ironic, really, thought Viktor, as he wiped down the desk in front of him with heavy duty antibacterial. They’d had a dream to bring magic to Piltover, to harness it and use it for good. The Professor had warned them, but, young, foolish men they were, they’d elected to ignore him and press on. The great cogs of success had turned, and turned and turned and turned...until eventually, as all things must, it ended.

“Entropy,” murmured Viktor. He lifted a syringe, its contents glistening purple, flicked it and turned to his subject, strapped on the table, thrashing furiously. “I am sorry. Truly.”

Jayce didn’t reply, but then again, Viktor hadn’t expected him to.

***

Time didn’t slow, as the stories would suggest. Instead, it quickened. As soon as the grinning nuke made contact with the building, the world exploded. A bright flash of white stained Viktor’s vision, then noise, then absolute silence, then a high pitched ring as his body was flung backwards, slamming into something hard and then someone hard and then pain and pain and pain -

Jayce had caught him, twisted his body into a shield. But shields could be broken, and shattered, and Jayce was not an exception. They’d fallen through what seemed like floors - he still couldn’t remember, he’d blacked out momentarily and woken up, his cane missing and his body crushed into something wet and firm, Jayce’s arm wrapped tightly around him, but…

“Viktor-” whispered Jayce urgently, his voice a high thready impersonation, weak and shocked. 

They were floating. It was a cruel mimicry of their first night together, flying in dazzling blue crystalline, high from the wonders of discovery. The air around them was pungent, dark and sickly green, and it held them instead of cradling them, grasping at them tight with greed, with possession. 

“Viktor-!” whispered Jayce again, and Viktor finally turned, forcing his body past its limit to shove out of his partner’s grasp, heaving with shock and grief.

Jayce’s golden eyes were bleeding green.