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nationalharryleague · 3 years

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Two for the Show

Summary: Jeff plans for Harry’s new opening act to be more than that.

Genre: Famous Fake Dating!

Word Count: 17.1k!

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A/N: Hey babes!! This is something I’ve been working on since December now and I’m so fucking proud of it and how it turned out!!! It’s the longest thing I’ve ever written and I’m so so so excited to hear what everyone has to say!! Giant thank you’s go out to the incredible soph (@theharriediaries) and Lu (@meetmymouth) bc this never would have come to fruition without them and their help!! Please let me know what you think!! More of my writing can be found in my masterlist!! Happy reading y’all :)

***

Keeping appearances in the public eye is a delicate balance.

If Y/N was being honest with herself, everything Full Stop Management had ever suggested to her had worked, and very well. When they suggested her music took a more pop direction, they set her up with a team of fantastic producers and her music sales and popularity skyrocketed. And when they set up an appointment with a celebrity stylist to figure out her signature style, it worked; they turned her into the 1970’s inspired goddess she had always dreamed of being. Even the hours of media training that she had been put through worked, helping her learn how to bob and weave even the most intrusive of interview questions.

But this time, she thought they might be going too far.

“Jeff,” she began with a sigh and a doubtful shake of her head, “I don’t know about this one.”

“It’s just a few months before and during the tour,” explained the man sitting across from her at the long conference table. “You’ll be seen in public a few times to drum up publicity for the tour and your album, maybe do an interview or two together, and some light PDA.”

His expression was honest and earnest. In the time he had represented her, he had never done anything to her that didn’t help her succeed. It was not hard for her to believe that he just wanted what was best for her and her career.

But something kept holding her back.

“I just got my heart broken in the most public way,” she said softly, absentmindedly fiddling with the base of her ring finger where an engagement ring once sat. “Isn’t it a little too soon to be seen jumping back into a whirlwind romance?”

“I don’t think so. If anything, it will make James look even worse than he already does after what he did to you.” She had to admit the idea of a little revenge did perk her ears up a bit. “And it doesn’t hurt that Harry is so universally loved and known for being such a good guy.”

That was another reason she was skeptical of this entire plot. This was Harry Styles they were talking about; Harry fucking Styles. She had only met him once or twice while working out details for her to be the opening act for his upcoming tour, but she had been a big fan of his and idolized him since she was a teen. Just meeting him threw her inner 16 year old self for a loop, let alone trying to pretend she was in love with him.

In all honesty, it probably wouldn’t be too hard on her end once she got over being starstruck; she wasn’t so sure she still wasn’t kind of in love with him, or at least the version the public saw.

“Listen,” Jeff began again, his voice taking on a bluntness, “no one cares about the opening act. No one bought tickets to see you; they’re there to see Harry.” His words stung but she knew it was the truth. “But if they think you are a part of Harry’s life, they care about you too. And they will keep on caring about you after they leave the show.” Her apprehensiveness must have been clear on her face when he put on a gentle smile. “He’s a really nice person. I promise.”

“I know,” she breathed, a small pout finding its way to her lips. “Fine,” she conceded after a moment, throwing her hands up in the air dramatically to signal surrender. “I’m in.”

A triumphant grin spread across his face. “Thank you. I’ll go call Harry and tell him you’re down.” She watched as he got up from his chair and came towards her, pressing a brief and friendly kiss to the top of her head. “You won’t regret this, Y/N.”

“I better not, Azoff,” she chuckled while shaking her head slightly.

Soon she was alone in the conference room, basking in the light from the floor to ceiling windows that sat before her.

“What did I just get myself into?” she mumbled quietly to herself.

***

The answer to that question came two weeks later when she was sitting across a table from the Harry Styles at a small outdoor brunch spot in LA. Their meeting place was strategic, a small restaurant, not too flashy so it didn’t look like they were seeking attention, but outdoors where anyone could see. It was only a matter of time before he was recognized, and the sighting was almost guaranteed to be trending on Twitter only minutes later.

She couldn’t say that she wasn’t nervous. The inside of her mouth had been chewed raw and the bags under her eyes showed she had been having trouble sleeping in the nights leading up to their first appearance together. By the end of the day, she would most likely have countless articles written about her and possibly have millions of angry fangirls coming after her; even though their “relationship” wouldn’t be officially confirmed for a few weeks.

If all went to Jeff’s plan, she would become an A-lister overnight.

She stood in front of her closet for over an hour, trying on and taking off outfits before finally settling on her favorite pair of bright red corduroy flares and a crisp white textured halter top. She paired the outfit with a new pair of heeled leather boots. They were a flashy pair that were split down the middle, bright yellow on one side and white with yellow stars on the other, hoping Harry would appreciate the bold colors.

She meticulously did her makeup, sure to match her lipstick color exactly to the shade of her pants; and spent far too long in front of the mirror fussing with her hair, praying it would lay the way she wanted it to.

She knew that she was going to be photographed in some way shape or form, and with the fashion icon himself. She had to look good. He had been on the cover of Vogue for god’s sake.

When she finally arrived at the cafe, Harry sat quietly across from her. He looked casual, or as casual as Harry Styles gets. A yellow t-shirt, that was tight enough to look as if it was painted on, showed off his muscular chest and arms. His iconic tattoos illustrated his arms and she hoped he wouldn’t notice as she covertly tried to examine closely. He uncomfortably ran his palms down the legs of his high waisted denim flares that had been paired with his signature pearl necklace and ratty, but well loved, white vans.

And she couldn’t forget his rings. His signature gold ‘H’ and ‘S’ looked back at her as he gently grasped his flute filled to the brim with a mimosa, bringing it to his pink lips that were surrounded by the short stubble he had been wearing lately.

The pair sat in a slightly awkward silence, both seeming to down their mimosas quickly just because it was something to do with their hands and could occupy their lips so they didn’t have to talk.

To say she was panicking, wouldn’t be too much of an over exaggeration. She was sitting across from one of the world’s biggest stars, and as one of his biggest closeted fans. The things he could do for her career were astronomical and it was hard to ignore that, but she also had a hard time getting over the way his hair seemed to fall into perfect tousled curls and his dreamy green eyes.

She had been in love with him (or at least the idea of him) since she was 16. She couldn’t help it.

But the bottomless mimosas helped to break her anxiety, and apparently his as well, as they both began to feel a slight buzz.

“So how did Jeff end up talking you into this?” Harry eventually broke the silence, the alcohol lowering his naturally shy inhibitions just enough to kick off their conversation.

She let a playful eye roll take over her face before she began. “Oh Jeff,” she said jokingly, letting out a long sigh. “I was convinced somewhere in between ‘it’ll make your ex look bad’ and a stern ‘no one ever cares about the opening act,’” she chuckled, while sarcastically wagging her finger in the air, dramatically re-enacting his scolds.

He sucked in a breath through his teeth, letting out a dramatic ‘ouch.’ “He’s not always gentle, is he?” matching her chuckle.

“He knows where to hit you where it hurts,” she laughed, while nodding in agreement. “How did he convince you?”

“Coincidently, he also took a low blow involving my ex. I believe his words were ‘You wrote an entire album about her and haven’t dated anyone since and it makes you look kind of pathetic.’” He dramatically used air quotes and did his best impression of Jeff’s American accent. She couldn’t hold back the giggles that erupted from her.

“Oh my goodness,” she let out through slightly buzzed giggles, “you definitely win.”

From that point, their conversation began to flow more easily, easing her anxiety as she learned he was generally easy to talk to. He laughed at her jokes, and she laughed at his. He really did have the calming and disarming quality that people always said he had, like could melt down any walls and convince you to be honest with him, even if you didn’t really want to be. She was shocked to find that she wanted him to genuinely be a friend to her so badly. He was just so nice and such a good listener.

Their conversation took a turn when Harry’s super power of knowing when his picture was being taken kicked in. “Give me your hand,” he said to her, diverting from the pleasant conversation they had been having about their families. “Don’t look but there’s someone across the street taking photos of us.”

His instructions brought her back to the reality that they weren’t really friends and that all of this was for show.

She brought her hand up to meet his, strategically resting on the side of the table that faced the street, giving the camera the best view. The cool metal of his hand full of rings felt good against her skin that had been baking in the hot LA sun and he passed his thumb over her knuckles with faux affection.

She couldn’t help but feel a dishonest weight pulling on her heart. She knew everything was going to plan and this was all for the best, but it also felt slightly wrong. She played with her small heart shaped earring to distract herself from the sinking feeling.

“Harry,” she began, knowing the people across the street were out of ear shot. Her voice brought his attention from her hand back up to her eyes. “Does this feel wrong to you at all?”

“How so?”

“It just feels dishonest, like we’re lying to millions of people, our–well, mostly your fans.” She couldn’t help but correct herself.

His eyes softened at her words, like he was taking in the innocence she still held onto after only being in the industry for a short time, compared to his decade in the spotlight.

“I try not to think of it as lying,” he spoke slowly after a moment of thinking. He nodded along softly to punctuate his words. “When you think about all this as lying, it starts to weigh pretty heavy on you as a person. I try to be as honest as possible in my music and daily life, but that’s not always what people want to see. They want a show that will entertain them, and it is our job to give it to them.”

“I see,” she mused.

They sat together for another hour or so, allowing their small mimosa buzz to wear off enough for them to drive the short distances to their homes. The pair eventually found their way back to a comfortable conversation, but Harry’s comment about being in the public eye still weighed on her.

Suddenly, she wasn’t sure if all of this was worth it. Y/N was a master at dodging a question and turning the charm to 10 when it was needed, but she wasn’t a liar and she definitely wasn’t an actress. She hoped she (or Jeff) hadn’t bitten off more than she could chew with all of this.

Harry eventually walked her back to her car that was parked a few blocks away, and while she was sure he was doing it for the cameras, she didn’t doubt that he would have done it even if they weren’t there. He just seemed like that kind of guy to her; caring and trustworthy.

“Thank you for a very nice date, Harry,” she said, winking and chuckling along with the extra emphasis she put on the last word.

“My pleasure,” he smiled down at her. He moved along with her as she walked to the driver's side door, opening it for her like a perfect gentleman. The two stood close, his body hovering over her’s as they stood inside the open door. Her heart rose to her throat as he leaned down to her and pressed a gentle kiss to her burning cheek.

Y/N looked back up at him with rosy cheeks and a tightlipped bashful smile. She watched as he walked backward carefully, taking her hand that had been locked with his until he was too far and let it fall back to her body.

She situated herself in her drivers seat and was ready to leave when she heard a knocking on the passenger side window that startled her. Harry had bent himself over and was motioning for her to roll the window down. When she did, he leaned himself in, an honest look in his eyes.

“Before you go,” he said gently. “A word of advice from someone who had been in the public eye for a long time,” he spoke with a tender yet serious tone, eyes locking with hers. “When you go home today, don’t go on social media. People are mean, and it’s just going to hurt.” She nodded along with his words and watched as he pinched his bottom lip. “And when you inevitably can’t resist, text me if you need to talk about it.”

***

They must have done a good job putting on their show because within an hour of her returning home to her apartment, they were all anyone was talking about. Their names were trending worldwide #1 on Twitter. Streams of Y/N’s debut album were up by 800%, and even Harry’s streams had taken a considerable jump. Y/N had gained 40,ooo new followers and views on every interview she had ever done were steadily rising.

All was going according to Jeff’s plan.

Harry’s words circled her brain for hours. “Don’t go on social media,” she heard him say over and over again as she paced her apartment, only stopping to look at the phone sitting on the kitchen counter every so often.

She had taken a shower, done her hair, tried to watch TV, cooked herself dinner, and even tried to sit down and write a song; it all got her nowhere fast. The unknown was eating at her inside.

Y/N broke when she heard the small ding signaling she had gotten a text message. She had all but sprinted to see who it was, reunited with the outside world through her touch screen. Unsurprisingly, it was from Jeff; the message sent to her and an unknown number she assumed to be Harry’s.

Good job, kiddos., was all it read but there was a photo attached to the message. Her heart stopped while she waited for the photo to load, cursing her slow wifi in the process. After a few breathless moments, the photo came through.

It was a screenshot from the website of one of the biggest entertainment magazines in the country. A picture of him kissing her cheek was the front page of the website.

Harry Styles and Y/N Y/L/N Rumored To Be Music’s New Power Couple Ahead of Tour

She was honestly speechless. This was huge.

She would like to say the sheer shock blurred her judgement, but the curiosity just got the better of her. Harry’s words repeated over and over again in her head, telling her not to, even as her finger connected with the icon of the little blue bird.

She was the most talked about topic in the entire world, her name hovering in bold letters on the trending page. She did everything she could to not click on her name, but her fingers did it all on her own.

The first few tweets were nice. Someone said they liked her style and that they looked cute together as a couple. Another said that they had always enjoyed her music and that they were happy for them.

But as she scrolled, it became harsher and just mean. People commented on her weight, said she couldn’t sing, and criticized her personality as seeming fake and forced. Her eyes were locked on the screen, unable to look away, as her heart began to break and few tears began to roll.

It took one final, and the most painful, tweet for her to consider deleting her account completely. She swiped out of the app fast, but the words were still burned into her brain.

Y/N is using Harry, just like she used James before he got rid of her and found someone better.

The words knocked the wind out of her, pouring salt on an open wound that had yet to heal.

She also had the little blue bird for that heartbreak as well. When she opened the app two months ago, the first thing she saw was pictures of her (former) fiance, James, with his tongue down some girl’s throat. At the time she had been devastated, her heart broken beyond repair.

It felt like no one else in the world could understand the way she was feeling. If she was in this position because of another person, they must get it too. The text to Harry was already sent before she had time to think it over.

I looked and I shouldn’t have. I’m sorry that I didn’t listen.

His response came only seconds later.

Don’t be sorry. It’s hard not to. Are you alright?

She had to think about his question, unsure if she knew the answer. Tears were still running down her face and she felt like she was a target the entire world had decided it was open season on. Logically, she knew these people never thought she would see these awful things, but it didn’t excuse the hurt she felt when she did.

I don’t know. I just don’t understand how people can be so cruel.

She felt like she was bothering him, even though he had offered to be there for her. He wasn’t her best friend, or a close confidant; he was her fake publicity boyfriend. He had real friends he wanted to talk to or maybe even a real girlfriend underwraps somewhere. Her body was wracked with guilt as she thought it over.

People are just mean on the internet, okay? They think they can say whatever they want without repercussions. I’m so sorry that you are being targeted because of me.

Before she got a chance to think through a proper response to him, her phone dinged with another text. It was from Jeff again.

Really good job, kiddos.

Y/N was confused. They hadn’t done anything else but be seen together today. Her sick sense of curiosity got her again before she opened Twitter again and looked up Harry’s name. He had tweeted for the first time in six months only a few moments ago.

@Harry_Styles: We treat people with kindness.

***

The next time she saw him was two days later at yet another public meet up Jeff had arranged for them. Unfortunately this time, she had become just as famous as Harry seemingly overnight, the flames of her new found fame growing even larger after he had sent that tweet.

While the fame had grown, the hate had calmed since his statement, which most had taken as an official declaration of their relationship. Now, that was not to Jeff’s plans.

She had to fight her way out of her apartment complex, wearing a pair of massive dark sunglasses with circular lenses and shielding her face with her hands the best she could. But she did have to admit that the electric orange fabric of her jumpsuit probably didn’t do much to help her blend in and avoid the attention of the paparazzi that had now found out where she lived.

Harry was sitting at the table by himself facing the back of the cafe when she arrived, two cups of coffee waiting before him to be drank together placed delicately on the table. He had his head down, buried in a book, before she startled him with a hug from behind. Her cheek connected with his warm neck where she buried her head into him and she took in his dizzying cologne.

She felt him jump beneath her as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, pressing a dramatic and cheesy kiss to his cheek, feeling his light stubble prick her chapsticked lips. “My hero,” she joked, trying to bring at least a little humor to the man who had just about jumped out of his skin at her touch.

It felt like she was crossing a boundary, and she was pretty sure she was, but she just needed to thank him and a hug felt like the best way to do that while in a semi-crowded coffee shop. Also, playing up that they were madly in love didn’t hurt.

“Jesus Christ,” he breathed, a hand flying over his chest in surprise to feel his racing heartbeat. “You scared the shit out of me.” Once he settled for a moment, his arm moved across his chest to rest on her arm. His touch was gentle and soft, holding her there gently like he didn’t want her to release him from her grasp. She tried not to think about it too much as she slipped her arms off of him, making her way to the seat that was clearly meant for her across from him.

“I’m sorry that I scared you. A little jumpy today?” she teasingly questioned.

“Hey, watch it,” he playfully threatened. “I believe you called me your hero about thirty seconds ago.”

“I guess I did,” she quipped over the mug she was bringing to her lips. It was sweet but not too sweet, with cream but not too much, and still piping hot; just the way she liked it. “I don’t think it’s too far off,” she smiled before turning back to the coffee. “Good coffee,” she mused. “Just the way I like it.”

“Good. I texted Jeff for your order,” he informed her, the gesture being so thoughtful and sweet she could have melted into a puddle right there and then. “And I think ‘hero’ might be a bit much,” he tacked on.

“Don’t be humble, Harry.” While her voice was still light and held a jesting tone, she meant her words. “You made the entire internet leave me alone, for the most part,” she clarified as there were definitely some nasty messages still floating around Twitter, “in five words.”

“It was the least I could do,” he said while shaking his head slightly, seeming to deflect her words.

“You could have done absolutely nothing.” She reached across the table and grabbed his hand in hers like they had staged at the cafe a few days earlier; but this time, it was an honest gesture, not one for a role they were both meant to be playing. Her words were serious, punctuating each with a gentle nod of her head. “I mean it. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” His eyes held the same truthfulness and honesty she hoped she was mirroring in her own. “I know all of this,” he paused and gestured between them with his free hand, “is for publicity, but I consider you a friend. It was hard to watch it all go down like that. You’re a good person and you didn’t deserve all that. I had to do something.”

There was a warmth that flooded her chest. He called me his friend, she thought to herself, fighting back a big toothy grin. She had been under the impression that all of this was just work for him, something he was doing just to drum up publicity, with no personal connections at all. But him calling her a friend meant so much to her. It meant she was not alone in all this terrifying and overwhelming attention.

“I’m glad you think of me as a friend,” she said, still holding back her smile. “You’re my friend too.” He matched her close-lipped smile that had fought its way onto her face at her words.

They sat in silence together for a few moments. Harry returned to his book and Y/N answered emails; but their hands stayed connected across the small table. This silence was very different from the silence on the day they first met. It wasn’t an uncomfortable silence that sat on your tongue, begging you to break the quiet; it was peaceful and safe.

Their silence was broken when a young woman wearing a jittery smile and nervous eyes approached their table. Her voice squeaked out a mouse-like “Hi,” towards the both of them, bringing their eyes up to meet hers and instinctively breaking their hands away from each other.

“I’m so so sorry to be a bother,” she began, cheeks red and hot. “But I’m a really big fan of both of you and I would never forgive myself if I didn’t say hello.” She rambled excitedly, mostly looking at Harry, as she held her slightly shaky hands up to her chest.

“Hello,” Harry said with one of his million dollar smiles. “What’s your name?”

“I’m Emma,” she breathed.

“Well, it’s so nice to meet you Emma.” He spoke gently with her, clearly sensing her anxiety, extending his hand for her to shake. “Thank you for all of your support.”

Y/N watched closely as he spoke with her. He spoke to her like she was the only person in the room, giving her his whole undivided attention, and repeatedly thanking her as she flooded him with compliments about how his music and message of kindness meant so much to her. She was so entranced that she nearly didn’t hear her own name being said as the girl turned towards her.

“I love your music as well,” she grinned, clearly more comfortable after her short conversation with Harry. “And your jumpsuit is just incredible.” Her nervous giggle was contagious, Y/N releasing one as well at the compliment as her cheeks heated slightly. She was shocked she even knew any of her music, clearly being the less popular of the pair.

“Thank you so much, Emma. It means a lot.”

Emma took a few quick selfies with the both of them (that would be everywhere within a few hours), said goodbye and went to leave the two, but not before she paid them one last compliment. “You two are really cute together. I’m rooting for you.”

Both of their cheeks warmed as they looked back at each other. They were quiet for a moment, unsure how to respond, before Harry turned his attention back to the girl with a coy smile. “I am too,” was all he said.

***

The next three weeks passed in a blur of tour rehearsals, fittings, and public meetings with Harry. And then all of a sudden, it was the night of the first show.

Y/N had never been so nervous in her entire life. She would be the first face seen by just over 19,000 people, tasked to warm up the crowd and prepare them for Harry, which was enough pressure. And then there was the chance that they all hated her guts.

She stood behind the curtain, listening to the loud and inpatient crowd as she paced back and forth. She white-knuckeld her guitar, trying to keep her violently shaking hands from being too visible to the crew around her. Her stomach swirled and her palms were clammy, constantly having to rub them on the pants of her icey blue jumpsuit. It fit her like a glove, the wide legged pants and slight shoulder pads, creating a perfect hourglass silhouette; the only thing she was confident in at the moment was how good she looked in it.

Her heart leapt out of her chest and she almost hit the ceiling when a small voice appeared over her shoulder, whispering “You’re going to do great,” in her ear. If her heart wasn’t about to give out before, it was now. She swung around to face him, almost hitting Harry with her guitar, letting out a small breath of relief when her eyes met his own. They always seemed to calm her down a bit.

“I’m kinda freaking out, H,” she anxiously babbled, using the nickname he had told her to call him. “This is the biggest crowd I’ve ever played in front of, and they probably all hate me because they think I’m dating you, and I have to make sure I do a good job so they start listening to my music; and I just…” she trailed off for a second, uncomfortably scratching the back of her neck, “I just can’t let you down.”

His face softened at her words, seeming to take pity on her. “Y/N,” he began, resting his hands on her shoulders and looking so deep into her eyes she felt like he could probably see her soul. “We picked you to open because people love your music and the way that you perform. You just have to go out there and do what you do best: sing your heart out and put on a good show. It’s only 25 minutes. I know you can do it.”

Every word that left his lips was laced with honesty and encouragement; just enough for Y/N to relax her furrowed brow and give her lip a break from her constant chewing. “I can do it,” she softly repeated back to him, still not breaking contact with his striking green eyes.

A stage manager passed by them, running to some other important task, but not before tapping her shoulder. “You’re on in 30 seconds,” he spoke, just as she heard the roar of the crowd begin, signalling the dimming of the lights in the arena.

“Go kick some ass,” he winked, stepping backwards from her and releasing her from his grasp. “I’ll be watching.”

Walking on stage, she wasn’t met with ‘boo’s that had plagued her nightmares, or mean looks from the audience, or rotten tomatoes thrown from the crowd.

They were screaming in excitement, screaming for her.

From the second she started playing, the crowd had her back; the ones that knew the words to her songs sang them along with her, and the ones that didn’t, happily danced to her voice. Before long, the smile she had forced onto her face was genuine, and her set passed by with ease. When her 25 minutes were up, she wasn’t sure if she wanted to get off the stage.

She took her final bow as the crowd roared, running off of the stage into the wings, looking for one person in particular. And when she found him, she threw herself into Harry’s open and waiting arms. “I told you that you were going to do great!” He spoke excitedly into her ear and he held her close to his body, his arms wrapped around her waist tight.

She liked the way it felt to be in his arms.

Pulling away from him, she saw the massive grin that he wore for her, noting how adorable his dimples were and how the excited look in his eyes made him look like a little kid. But there was more to his face than excitement, he looked proud.

“They were so nice to me, and they knew my songs, and they were screaming so loud for me, and it just went so well. I can’t believe it!” Her previous anxious chatter had become an exhilarated rambling and she felt on top of the world.

“I can,” he grinned, looking down at his watch quickly. “I have to go get changed.” If she wasn’t so amped up, she might have noticed the disappointment that flashed over his features. “Promise me you’ll watch the show?”

“Pinky swear?” She stuck up her little finger in the air.

“Pinky swear.” He kept their pinkies locked for a moment too long, then released her hand and ran backstage to get dressed.

She kept her promise and watched with excitement as the building shook when Harry took the stage.

She had never heard something quite so loud, sure her ears would be ringing when she snuggled into her bunk on the tour bus that night. Watching him perform was mesmerizing; he knew how to work a stage in every way and make every person in the arena feel like he was singing just for them. He was larger than life while performing and his little dances and mannerisms only got more pronounced the more comfortable he got on stage. He messed with Mitch, who she had only met a few hours ago (he was very nice), and constantly praised Sarah on the drums behind him, while he looked over to Adam and sent him smiles often.

Everyone in the building came for a show, and boy, did he give them one. It was amazing to watch. There was a reason she was a fan.

Bouncing off the stage, full of adrenaline and in a post-show high, he came to find her. It wasn’t hard, as she had never left her spot on the side of the stage, unable to rip her eyes away from the man before her.

“Oh my god, Harry! That was incredible!” she said with delighted amazement.

“I’m glad you liked it.” He was smiling down at her with a big toothy grin, a hand running through his sweaty hair and pushing it off his forehead. “They only get better from here.”

***

He was telling the truth. The shows only got crazier and more exciting as the tour went on, and so did their “relationship.”

About five shows in, Jeff had Harry given her his “H” ring to start wearing. Harry didn’t seem too phased by it all even though she thought it might be too much, saying “it’s like a friendship bracelet.” But it was too big for her fingers, not because she had small hands, but because Harry’s were absolutely massive. She wore it on a chain around her neck from then on and made sure to always be seen playing with it.

Fans took notice and loved it.

A little after that, Jeff sent them off to get matching manicures. Both had a melting rainbow of oranges, pinks, and browns on their fingertips, which looked amazing in the paparazzi photos of them walking around with their fingers intertwined.

The fans loved that too.

But when she “accidentally” posted a photo of Harry on her story, the entire world lost it’s shit. In the photo, he laid sprawled across a bed in only a white hotel robe that was creeping dangerously high up his thigh. He looked sleepy and slightly sweaty, in a post-fuck haze, and clothes that looked very similar to ones she had been seen wearing in public only days before were strewn across the floor. The caption read “I love getting to love you.”

The photo had strategically only been up for about 30 seconds, but by the time it was deleted thousands of people had seen it and screenshots had been taken. They quickly circulated the internet, creating a bit of scandal. But more than anything, people began to love the two of them together even more. Harry looked genuinely happy in the photo, and for most of his fans, that was all that mattered.

They were creating a fairytale love story for an audience, but she would be lying if she said she wasn’t enjoying her role. She quite liked being his “girlfriend.”

Harry and Y/N had a way of clicking as they grew closer–quite literally as they were crammed together on a tour bus most of the time. They seemed to be able to finish each other’s sentences and always beat the other to the punchline of a joke. The pair had begun to pick up on the other’s mannerisms and habits; Y/N always teasing that Harry was going to rub his nose off one day if he kept rubbing it while he was thinking and Harry always knowing when she got enough sleep by whether or not she had put on eyeliner that morning. They swapped playlists back and forth in their bunks as they tried to doze off and always grabbed a cup of coffee for whoever had decided to sleep in the next day, now knowing the other’s order by heart.

There was only one thing she didn’t know about him that she longed to discover: what his lips felt like against her own. She could never think too hard about it though, or she may just explode.

He had become a calming presence and was currently helping her keep her cool, even though she knew the pair of interviewers across the table were getting ready to grill the pair for every detail they could get. His hand had settled on top of her knee to quell it’s nervous bouncing, but remained after she had stopped, even though no one could see his touch under the table. She watched as his thumb ran itself back and forth along the leg of her flashy orange and yellow patterned overalls and she had a hard time pulling her gaze away when the radio host across the large table began to speak.

“So Harry,” the bald man began. “Fine Line has been one of the biggest albums of the year and I just have to say I love it. It’s truly incredible.” She listened as the man continued on to sing Harry’s praises, going on to list his grammy nominations, sold out world tour, and other accolades. She couldn’t help but smile as she watched his cheeks tinge pink with the praise. She knew anyone watching would pick up on her adoring look and people fawn over it, but she knew her gaze was nothing but truthful.

“Thank you very much,” he said shyly, shaking his head slightly as he spoke into the microphone suspended in front of his face. “You’re too kind.”

“Stop being humble,” she teased him, playfully tapping him on the arm. “All of his music is fantastic,” she said turning her attention back to the man across from them, “especially Fine Line.”

“And there’s Y/N, being the supportive girlfriend,” the man chuckled.

“I support him in everything he does,” she smiled back, not having to embellish the truth at all. “He is an amazing talent and I think Fine Line shows that.”

It wasn’t hard for her to gush about him. It was actually quite easy. She absolutely adored him, as an artist, a friend, and the focus of her affection. She felt an equal warmth in her cheeks as she watched his get even pinker with her compliments.

“That’s actually something we wanted to ask you about,” the blonde woman sitting next to him piped up, a mischievous glint in her eyes that sent nervous butterflies flying around Y/N’s stomach. “One of the songs on Fine Line, Cherry to be specific, actually features the voice of Harry’s ex, Camille. How does that make you feel as his new girl?”

Y/N did her best not to gag at the woman’s question, gritting her teeth as she plastered on a polite smile. “Well, I think Cherry is a really great song and her voice at the end adds a lot,” she spoke as smoothly as she could, refusing to let on that the question rattled her. Harry’s light squeeze on her knee signalled to her that she had answered the question well.

“It’s also been three years since the song was written,” Harry cut in. “Things are obviously a lot different now.” He connected their eyes for a second while he was leaning back into his seat, sending her a short smile, but she knew him well enough to know it was genuine.

“Oh, definitely,” the woman eagerly agreed. “You’re in a great new relationship with a beautiful girl on your arm.”

“Y/N,” he emphasized her name as the woman had referred to her as a possession of his for a second time, “and I are very happy. Thank you.” To an onlooker, he was calm. To her, he was visibly uncomfortable by her words.

Y/N began to notice a clear pattern as the interview went on. Harry was asked exclusively about his music and the tour, while Y/N only became relevant to their interviewers when they wanted to mention their relationship.

When the man asked Y/N if she felt uncomfortable playing to Harry’s mainly female fanbase every night that are “so obviously jealous of her,” something snapped inside of her, sending all her hours of media training out the window. “I’m not uncomfortable at all,” she said curtly. “His music is great and he puts on an awesome show. I don’t think the audience’s gender really has anything to do with the music.” She watched the man’s face fall before she decided to go on. “And I would like to think that at least a few of them are there for me too. You do know I make music too, right?”

An indignant smirk found its way to her lips as the man stammered out, “yes, of course.”

“Okay. I was just wondering since you have only asked me questions about our relationship since we got here.”

She knew Jeff wouldn’t be happy, but at the moment, she couldn’t care less. They may not have really been dating, but the interviewers didn’t know that. All of their dismissal of her and her career was 100% real.

She had been so worked up that she didn’t even realize Harry’s hand had left her knee until it found its way to rest on her back. She leaned into his touch as he rubbed her back softly while she crossed her arms in front of her.

The interviewers looked at the two of them across the table, jaws both lying on the floor. It was quiet until Harry nonchalantly spoke. “She has a point.”

The last few minutes of the interview passed in an awkward blur that felt suffocating. She felt like she could finally take in a deep breath once they were in the back of a massive SUV being driven away from the studio.

“Jeff is going to have my head,” she mumbled under her breath, nose stuck into her phone as she scrolled Twitter to see what people were saying about her outburst. But before she could read any opinions, Harry's tattooed arm blocked her view as he gently pushed her phone down onto her lap.

“Look at me,” he murmured, beckoning her attention to the other side of the back seat. When she connected her eyes with his, his usual calming aura took over her, softening the stressed crease between her brows. “It’s going to be okay.”

“Harry, I just blew my career up into smoke because I couldn’t deal with a rude interviewer,” she huffed at him.

“No,” he disagreed softly, moving the hand that rested on her arms to interlock his fingers with one of hers. “You stuck up for yourself to people who were ignoring your work and whittling you down to your relationship.”

“But it was rude.”

“It was necessary.”

The car ride to the venue for that night’s concert was quiet, but Harry never let go of her hand, brushing his thumb over her knuckles in a comforting touch. She wasn’t sure if she ever wanted him to let go.

***

It was the early hours of the morning by the time the pair returned to their tour bus and went to crawl into their bunks.

Her performance had gone well and Harry was mesmerizing (as always). He was truly hypnotizing to watch while he performed and she hadn’t missed watching him yet, even as they drew close to the end of the tour. It was the best part of her day and she would miss it dearly after the last show.

She was almost asleep, curtain drawn and cuddled under a pile of blankets, when her cell began to ring. Her heart sank, knowing only one person who would know when she had a sliver of free time (even though it’s debatable if sleeping counts as free time). She was going to get scolded like she was a little kid in the principal's office and she knew it.

“Hi Jeff,” she answered with a sigh as she pulled the curtain back and slid from the bunk, the cold air of the tour bus nipping at her legs.

Her gaze was met by a snuggled up Harry wearing a concerned face across from her in his own bed. He never closed the curtain, not even when she asked politely to muffle his snores, always saying something about how it made him claustrophobic. He sent her a tired smile and mouthed “good luck,” extending a hand for a fist bump as she passed. Knocking their knuckles together put a brief smile on her face before she buckled in for the chewing out she was about to get.

Harry watched her intently as she paced up and down the front of the tour bus as she spoke to Jeff, too far away for him to listen in. Her face gradually turned from anxious, to surprised, to something that would have probably been happiness if she wasn’t so tired.

“Alright, thank you for everything.” She spoke softly when she finally returned to be within earshot for him. “Goodnight Jeff.”

“So?” he murmured groggily at her, brows raised in question at her.

“People loved it,” she said shocked, like she didn’t fully believe it herself. “They think I’m some kind of badass for shutting down a sexist. Which is, like, a lot,” she spoke with a disbelieving chuckle, unable to find the right words in her groggy state. “I don’t really know what to make of it.”

Harry seemed to spring up from his spot in his bed, smacking his head on the top of the bunk in the process, prompting them both to dissolve into a puddle of giggles.

“Don’t get too excited for me,” she laughed. “I cannot be the reason that you hurt yourself and have to cancel a show.”

“I was just too excited to say ‘I told you so,’” he smirked, now rubbing the side of his head through his curls.

“Cocky bastard,” she sarcastically murmured under her breath while dramatically rolling her eyes.

She watched with confusion as Harry left his bed, and after a short and frantic search for his pajama pants so he wouldn’t “offend her eyes,” he moved towards the front of the bus. Her eyes trailed him as he bent down to the small mini fridge and pulled out two beers.

“We have to celebrate.”

It was 2 AM and she had been so ready for bed after a long day. But she knew she could never say no to him. She thanked god that they had a day off tomorrow.

After retrieving her massive and lovingly worn Grateful Dead sweatshirt to protect her from the chilly air, she nearly ran to the front of the bus. His painted pink fingers moved with skill as he popped the bottle caps off with one of his rings, handing it to her and gently nudging his bottle against hers.

“Cheers,” he murmured softly as he looked down at her with a kindhearted smile.

“Cheers,” she seemed to whisper back to him, a flutter in her stomach reminding her how badly she wanted to reach out and connect her lips to his. Instead she slid into the small booth across from him, taking a long sip from the bottle as she watched him do the same.

“I want you to know that I was really proud of you today,” he said as he put his beer down on the table. “Rude interviewers are never easy and you handled it like a champ.”

“Thank you, H,” she nodded, suddenly bashful and unable to make eye contact with him. Her cheeks burned hot as she put all her focus into tracing the rim of the bottle with her finger tip.

“Hey,” he called for her attention and her eyes snapped up to meet his. “I mean it, Y/N.”

“I know you do,” she gently nodded at him. “I’m just really happy they didn’t ask about my ex,” she chuckled as she took another sip. “That would have gone very poorly.”

“Oh yeah, I was a little annoyed they brought up my ex but not yours,” he teased. “Not fair if you ask me.”

“Well, then I’m glad no one asked you.”

“Can I ask you?”

“What?”

“About your ex.”

She should have been prepared to talk about it with Harry at some point. Half of this plan had been devised to get back at James anyway. She should be able to talk about it by now, especially with someone she had grown so close to.

“I guess so,” she shrugged, trying to seem casual like the mere mention of him didn’t still hurt her heart a little bit. “What do you want to know?”

“As much as you’re willing to tell me.”

He looked soft like this, eyes slightly sleepy with a tenderness in them as he looked back at her. His hair was unruly and puffy and he was wrapped in the powder blue blanket that lived on the tour bus’ couch. She would have told him anything that he ever wanted to hear if he kept looking like this.

With a deep breath, she began to recount everything that went down.

“I met James while I was still working as a waitress. I recognized him from his movies and started a conversation, and then–to my surprise–he asked me out on a date. I had been in LA for three weeks and this insanely famous actor is asking me to go out with him, so I obviously said yes.” She paused to take a swig of her beer, before mumbling under her breath, “I should have said ‘fuck no’ to that.”

A smile ghosted over her lips as she listened to Harry’s laugh across the table. She swore that laugh could cure cancer.

“But I didn’t,” she continued. “He introduced me to the right people and helped me make the right connections in the industry, which I guess made me feel indebted to him. Does that make sense?”

“Of course,” Harry nodded, eyebrows furrowed and listening intently.

“I should have broken up with him after I signed with Jeff and the label, however awful that sounds. But he just always knew the right things to say to make me feel special and like I was the most important person in the world. Even after I found out he was talking to other girls, he was somehow able to talk himself out of it.” She shook her head as she recalled it. “You wanna hear something fucked up?”

“Always,” he said with a gentle smirk.

“He proposed to me using lines from a romcom he was working on.”

Harry nearly spit out his drink. “Holy shit, you’re kidding!”

“I wish. I didn’t find out until I went with him to the premier a few months later and the proposal scene sounded surprisingly familiar.”

“What a dirtbag.”

“I know, right?” she laughed. “Then a few weeks after that, he got papped with his tongue down another girl’s throat. That finally knocked some sense into me and I ran for the hills.”

“Fuck,” he sighed as he finished his beer. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay,” she breathed. “I don’t even feel hurt by him anymore, ya know? I just feel angry at myself for trusting him.”

“I understand but it’s not your fault he was a piece of shit,” he said as he rose from his seat and traveled to the mini fridge once again. “Another?” he asked, holding the bottle up about his head.

“Fuck it,” she shrugged. “Sure.”

She watched him skillfully pop off the tops again using just his rings, making a mental note to make him teach her how he did that, before he flopped back down in his seat.

“At the risk of sounding like a Facebook mom, ‘you grow through what you go through,’” she chuckled, taking another long sip as she finished her first. He matched her high pitched giggle across the table and she nearly drooled beer down her front from smiling so wide.

“Amen, sister,” he agreed, raising his beer in the air.

“Oh, that was awful.” She shook her head as she descended into giggles. “Please never say that again.”

“Noted.”

“Anyway,” she began again after another sip of her drink, “I was well prepared to get my heartbroken by untrustworthy men after you, Styles.”

“I’m offended–tell me more,” he spoke quickly, his signature narcissistic smirk settling onto his features.

“I need you to know that Zayn leaving was my first real heartbreak.”

“Were the rest of us chopped liver?”

“You weren’t Zayn, I can tell you that.”

“Ouch!” He let out a loud belly laugh.

“Put yourself in my shoes for a minute, H. So first, the hottest-”

“Rude-”

“-I’m speaking. So the hottest one leaves, and then the rest of you are all like ‘we’ll be back in 18 months,’” she mocked him in a high pitched impersonation with a wave, “and then 6 months later you all mysteriously have solo careers.”

“I do not see you complaining about my solo career now, ya fame leetch.” He spoke with such humor and charisma, she couldn’t have even wished to be offended by his joke.

“Absolutely not, sir,” she said sternly, giving him a dramatic salute. “Deepest apologies from the fame leetch.” The two collapsed into giggles, laughing until their sides began to ache.

“Wait, I have a question for mega superstar Mr. Harry Styles of former One Direction fame,” she announced.

“I believe that’s me,” he bowed his head and raised his hand into the hair. “Shoot.”

She barely could get the question out, laughing too hard at her own joke. “Is Taylor Swift a good kisser?”

“Oh god,” he exasperatedly threw his hands in the air, chuckling while rolling his eyes dramatically before grinning wide as he thought over his answer. “I don’t kiss and tell,” he finally smirked.

“Wait, I have another!”

“Watch it, smart ass.”

“You think I’m smart?” she teased as she feigned flattery. “Have you ever heard of a song called ‘English Love Affair?’” He narrowed his eyes at her, a knowing smirk crossing his lips as he shook his head at her. “Also, when do I get to meet Gemma?”

“I’ll consider it when you stop bringing up her sex life, perv.”

“We’ve been dating for a few months now,” she teased as she continued to prod, emboldened by the liquid courage running through her veins as she was now half way through her next beer. “I think I should be allowed to meet the family soon. They seem delightful.”

“They would love how you have decided to rip into me like this,” he said with a cheeky smile, dimples on full display.

“Rockstars have to get knocked down a peg every once in a while.” She sarcastically shrugged. “Consider it a favor.”

She couldn’t help but think about how right this felt. Their back and forth flowed so smoothly, the banter falling from their lips without effort. Their laughter joined together in a delightful melody and she imagined they could go on this way all night.

Spending any amount of time with him made her so fucking happy; and time spent teasing each other over beers caused her to nearly explode with joy. How much she was enjoying herself was too hard to put into words.

He was safe and he was kind and he made her laugh no matter how bad his jokes were.

He was her best friend.

And for the first time, she was willing to admit that she was in love with him.

“Harry,” she hummed softly as their laughter died down to a comfortable silence. “Thank you for everything. You’ve changed my life forever and I can never repay you.”

“Just remember me when you get famous.”

“Oh shut up, I’m being serious,” she playfully scolded before letting her tone drop back into honesty. “You’re a very good person and I’m eternally grateful for you letting me be your opening act and then agreeing to this whole relationship charade.”

“I didn’t ‘let’ you be anything, Y/N. I picked you myself.”

Her brows furrowed in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“I listened to your album when it came out and fell in love with it,” he shrugged, his casual tone contradicting the surprised raise of her pulse. “When I found out Jeff also managed you, I knew I had to have you on the tour.”

Y/N was honestly stunned. She had always assumed that the tour was Jeff’s doing, a careful arrangement pairing Full Stop’s new up-and-comer with their most famous and established talent. Being offered the tour had been the biggest opportunity and honor she had ever been presented with; but she had never considered Harry himself being behind it.

“Oh,” was all she could manage to get out.

It was now his turn to be confused. “What’s so surprising about that?” he asked, reading the shock on her face like she was an open book.

“I just,” she stammered, trying to find the words in her slightly hazy state. “I never would have thought you knew who I was or listened to my music.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t know,” she trailed off. “You’re you, and I’m just... me, I guess.”

He didn’t respond right away, just looking at her intently and slightly amused, sea glass eyes boring into her with a pink lip held between his teeth.

He scanned her frame, from the way her hair sat messily on top of her head and the way the massive sweatshirt swallowed her body enough to where she had pulled her knees up to her chest underneath it. Her shoulders were slumped slightly, making her appear smaller as she held her legs close to her torso and her eyebrows were knitted together in worry, slightly nervous under his intense gaze.

She downed the rest of her beer in an attempt to forget his intense attention. It didn’t work.

“You really don’t know how incredible you are, do you?” he finally asked, the corner of his lips twitching into a small smile.

She felt her whole body burn with his compliment, wanting to shrink into herself and disappear completely from his view. She finally shook her head slightly in an attempt to deflect his words, breathing his name under her breath as if to scold him for being too kind.

“You are,” he insisted, ignoring her objection. “You’re so talented and your music deserves all the attention that it gets. I am honored that I get to play a part in helping expose the world to you and what you have to offer.”

“Thank you.” Her words came out as a whisper.

“You’re welcome, love.”

His pet name made her stomach turn in a nervous excitement and a wide grin involuntarily came to her lips.

“I like it when I make you smile like that.” His words only made her beam further. “You look very pretty when you smile.”

“Stop it,” she said softly, cheeks burning hot and having a hard time making eye contact with him.

“Stop what?” He feigned innocence as he lightly teased her, smirk still prominent on his features.

“Are you flirting with me, Styles?”

“Just practicing.”

His words rang through her mind long after they had left the table and crawled back into their bunks for the night. She wished she could see inside his head to understand whatever thoughts were running around his brain.

But for now she could just peak at him through the gap she had purposely left in her curtain, wondering if she ever popped into his dreams as he slept.

He was always in hers.

***

There was a sadness mixed in with her usually thrilled mood as she took the stage for the last show of the tour. While there was an element of relief as she looked forward to some well needed rest, the adrenaline and joy of being in front of a crowd was something that she would miss dearly. She had grown into a real performer over the last two months as they zig-zagged across the US and this period of time would have a special place in her heart long after it had ended.

But there was another reason why she was so sad to see this chapter come to an end. As far as she knew, a staged breakup was not far away and the thought of being without Harry was heartbreaking. He had become her person and soon their feux falling out would be on the front page of every magazine. She wanted nothing more in the world than for their relationship to be real, but it would be forced to end before it had even truely started.

She got choked up as she sang her final song that night, letting a few tears escape as she took in the thousands of people singing her lyrics back to her, flashlights swaying in the air to the beat of the music. Taking a move from Harry’s own playbook, she took her mic and directed it to the crowd to sing as she cried. The vibrations of the drums and bass behind her nestled it’s way into her bones and the chorus of singing voices in the crowd surrounded her in a bittersweet melody.

The past two months she had been on top of the world, and as soon as this song finished, it was the beginning of the end.

She took her final bow, watching as the small tears fell forward onto the dusty stage below her. She waved and blew kisses to the crowd, then nearly ran off the stage looking for the only person she wanted to see.

Harry was right where he always was, just out of view behind the curtain, holding his arms out for her to fall into.

“Awe, babe,” he hummed sympathetically when she settled her head onto his chest, surely ruining his crisp white t-shirt with her now wet makeup. “It’s okay. Final shows are always tough.” He rubbed her back gently, in a soothing rhythm.

He smelled so good. He smelled like home.

She tilted her head up to connect her glassy eyes with his. “I just don’t want this all to end.” She knew she wasn’t just talking about the tour.

“Neither do I,” he said as his lips curved into a devilish smirk that sent her heart into palpitations. “That’s why I have one last surprise for you.”

“Oh, Harry,” she sighed while wiping the remaining tears off her cheeks. “What have you done?”

“You said you liked surprises!” he defended.

“Not surprises in front of 20,000 people!”

“I promise you’re going to love this one, okay?” His voice was softer now, encouraging and supportive. “You’re going to come out and sing an extra song with me during my set,” he revealed.

“Sing what?”

“That’s the surprise.”

“Do I even know the words?”

“You definitely know the words,” he chuckled.

“I just finished sobbing. I can’t go out there like this.”

“You can fix your makeup. I believe in you.”

“What am I going to wear?” she asked, grasping at straws at this point, doing anything she could to get out of this.

“I had Lambert put something together for you.”

“Of course you did.”

She peppered him with a few more questions, but he had a smooth and charming answer to every single one. He had thought every detail out, and as always, she couldn’t say no to him.

“Fine,” she finally exasperatedly agreed, immediately met with his excited and dimpled smile that she had fallen head over heels for.

“Perfect,” he breathed. “I have to go get ready and so do you. I already put everything you need in your dressing room, okay?” She nodded, still biting her lip anxiously. He held her by her shoulders, lowering his head to match their eye level as he leaned in close, before he spoke. “You’re going to have fun. I promise.”

“Pinky swear?”

“Pinky swear.”

Seconds after they locked their little fingers together, he pressed a quick and protective kiss to her forehead that set her whole body ablaze before running off in the direction of his dressing room. She remained stunned and frozen in her spot for a few moments trying to process what it felt like to have his lips on her for the first time since that very first day they had met.

There was no audience to perform it for or an act to keep up behind the curtain. He kissed her because he wanted to.

She was finally snapped out of her daze when a stagehand bumped into her by accident, prompting her to begin the short walk back to her dressing room. But the ghost of his lips remained on her forehead, an incessant tingle placed there by his touch.

The dress she found waiting for her was one of the most beautiful gowns she had ever set her eyes on. Made of a light purple chiffon, the wrap dress’ long sleeves and floor length skirt flowed freely. A belt cinched the wispy fabric close to her waist and a deep-v exposed her neck and chest. But the most dazzling part of the dress were the red sequined hearts that dotted the fabric and reflected the light of the dressing room like a million little mirrors.

Slipping into it, the light fabric was soft against her skin, opaque enough but still slightly sheer to let light through and show off her legs and the bright red shiny pumps Lambert had left for her. She felt the most beautiful she had ever felt in this dress, boosting her confidence and quelling her nerves about whatever the hell Harry was planning.

“One minute to curtain,” was announced in an ominous voice over the arena’s backstage speakers as she finished fixing her makeup and she all but ran to make it back to the stage in time. She only had one more chance to watch him perform and she refused to miss a second of it.

Harry dazzled as the lights focused in on him, his deep blue and fully sequined suit reflecting the light and turning him into a human disco ball. He stood close to the edge of the stage as the beginning notes of the first song began being played by the band, but he made no move towards his mic stand to sing. His eyes were closed and his arms were outstretched to the audience, taking in every scream, every tear, and the thunderous shake of the building; but also giving himself to them.

Then the show began. As usual, he was electric, but tonight was like he had turned himself up to eleven. Every note he sang was full of his heart and every dance move was done with his entire body, even his bad jokes seemed funnier tonight.

She was so mesmerized she almost forgot about his ‘surprise.’ Almost.

“Since tonight is unfortunately our last show,” he pouted. “I thought I would do something special,” he spoke to the crowd as they roared, but quickly connected his eyes with her’s in the wings. By the smirk plastered on his face, she knew she was in for it.

“I recently found out that someone very close to me was a very big fan of…” he trailed off as he dramatically pretended to search for the right words, “my previous work.” He finished with a smirk and his words prompted the loudest reaction since he had been on stage.

“Now, I told her that she would be coming on stage to join me tonight, but I didn’t exactly tell her what we would be singing and I haven’t performed this song in a very long time, so cut us some slack if we mess up. This is very unrehearsed.” He kept sneaking glances back to her, as her eyes grew wider at the stunt he was currently pulling. “But I know for a fact that she knows all the words. I listen to her sing them in the shower quite often.” He wore a cheeky dimpled grin as he looked back at her once again.

The building was shaking due to the suspense he was creating, and looking down at her hands, she realized she was to. She gripped hard onto the mic a stagehand had just shoved at her, pleading with her hands to stop their tremors.

“Now, I would love it if you could all give another warm welcome to one of my favorite people on the planet, Y/N Y/L/N!” He turned his body to her for a final time, extending his hand out for her to take. Her legs felt like jello as she walked out into the bright lights towards him, interlocking her fingers with his as a way to keep her on her feet.

The audience’s screams were deafening at seeing the two of them together and she thanked god she had her earpieces in to protect her ear drums or they would have surely burst. She could only imagine the articles that would be written about this and the thousands of tweets that were probably already being sent.

“I’m gonna kick your ass,” she mouthed at him threateningly, but she couldn’t even get through the sentence before his dazzling smile began to quell her anxiety.

“The look on your face is 100% worth getting my ass kicked,” he answered smoothly before turning his attention back to the audience. “Everyone, sing along if you know the words,” he commanded their attention. “This is Ready to Run.”

Her jaw dropped and the crowd roared as the band behind her began to play the first few chords of the song she loved and knew so well. She had admitted it a few days ago that it was one of her favorites of his ‘previous work,’ but apparently he already knew that from the few showers she had taken on the tour bus.

“There’s a lightning in your eyes I can’t deny,” he began by himself, her brain still too shocked to jump in yet. He sang the first few lines to her with a giant grin plastered on his face, hand still holding tight to hers. His eyes had a playful glint in them that seemed to say ‘just have fun.’

“There’s a devil in your smile, it’s chasing me,” she finally began to sing, Harry fading his voice out so she could take the next few lines by herself as he admired her.

He did have a devilish smile, but it was one she loved with her entire heart. As she began to sing, she felt her muscles begin to relax into the song she had sung to herself so many times before, letting her body begin to bounce to the growing rhythm as her dress flowed around her.

The stage vibrated as Sarah beat her drums to introduce the chorus. “This time I’m ready to run, escape from the city and follow the sun,” the pair sang together, eyes still locked as their voices combined into the most perfect tune. “Cause I wanna be yours, don’t you wanna be mine?” they continued the lyrics. She felt herself meaning the words leaving her mouth more and more as they went on. She did want to be his, she couldn’t deny that. “I don’t wanna get lost in the dark of the night.”

Her apprehensiveness eased further as the music picked up and the hook went on, finally allowing herself to have a bit of fun. “Wherever you are is the place I belong,” they insisted towards each other, leaning in close before Harry grabbed her hand to dramatically spin her, the beautiful shining fabric of her dress splaying out around her. The next line was mumbled through giggles by both of them, but their laughter only added to the perfect moment they were having.

They danced across the stage together like there weren’t 20,ooo pairs of eyes watching them, both singing their hearts out to each other. It began to feel like they weren’t even there. It was just Y/N and Harry, serenading each other to one of her favorite songs.

“There’s a future in my eyes I can’t foresee,” she sang to him to start the second verse.

“Unless, of course, I stay on course and keep you next to me.” Harry grabbed her by her waist and pulled her into his side as he sang the words, prompting more giggles from her. She loved the way he smiled so wide as he sang, never breaking his eye contact with her and emitting pure joy. His eyes looked honest as he sang, like he meant every word just as much as she did.

The pair made their way through the rest of the verse and second chorus, flawlessly moving around the stage like they owned it. Y/N selfishly decided to let him have the bridge all to himself, needing to hear the way his beautiful voice hit the high notes. “This time I’m ready to run,” he sang passionately, executing the downward moving riff perfectly. “I’d give everything that I got for your love,” he pointed across the stage towards her, beckoning her back close to him. She quickly skipped to him at his request.

Like she had blinked, the song was already nearing its end.

“Cause I wanna be free and I wanna be young, I’ll never look back now I’m ready to run,” they belted the last lines out to each other. The band fell quiet on their last chord and the crowd exploded, but their noise fell on deaf ears as the pair stood so close their heaving chests were almost pressed up against each other. His eyes stared down into hers and she watched as his eyes flickered quickly down to her lips.

The world ceased to exist when he pressed his mouth to hers, even if it only lasted a second. It was nothing more than a peck, but it was everything to her. Her body igniting with heat and eyes full of shock, she looked back at him in simultaneous confusion and adoration, before realizing they had been staring at each other for too long. She needed to get off the stage so he could continue with his show. She walked back slowly towards the wings, letting the hand he had still been holding fall to her side. She waved and smiled to the crowd the best she could in her clouded mind.

“Thank you everyone!” she shouted into her mic as she moved out of their view. She shoved her mic into the first set of hands that would take it as she wobbled her way over to a table with water bottles. She nearly choked as she tried to suck one down, hoping it would ease the dizzy feeling he had created with his lips. Her lips burned just as her forehead had earlier in the night.

He had kissed her. He had sang a love song with her and then he had kissed her. She couldn’t decipher if that kiss was a confirmation that he shared the same feelings for her or if it was just another act for the cameras. But his mouth felt so right against hers. They fit together like a pair of puzzle pieces. She tried to suppress the optimistic hope that rose in her chest, but it began to swallow her whole.

When she heard his next song begin, she made her way back to the spot that had become hers at the side of the stage. She watched him perform the rest of the show in a loving haze, doe eyed and hypnotized, lips still buzzing from his contact.

He gave it his all. By the last song he was out of breath, drenched in sweat, and looked like he was about to pass out at any second. The crowd applauded for minutes after he left the stage and they were still cheering when she finally caught sight of him again. His curls were stuck to his forehead and his skin was shiny and flushed. He was panting, still trying to recover from his workout of a finale show; but he was beaming. His smile seemed to turn him into a beacon, emitting a light and positive energy that drew everyone backstage towards him.

She was so transfixed on Harry as he thanked the crew and accepted congratulations from all around that she just about jumped out of her skin when Jeff slinked up behind her and whispered ‘boo’ in her ear.

“What the fuck, Jeff,” she chuckled as she caught her breath, resting her hand on her chest and feeling her racing heartbeat.

“I just wanted to congratulate you on being half of the best fake couple out there,” he teased. “That kiss was perfect. People are losing their minds over it.”

“Oh,” she said softly, feeling every emotion she was distracted from while watching Harry rush back into her. Her heart sank as she remembered all the questions that continued to haunt her since she got off stage. “Thanks,” she murmured, plastering a smile onto her face. “I’m glad we could make you proud.”

“If you two could convince me, you can convince anyone.” Jeff walked off moments later, leaving her to sit in her confused thoughts as he disappeared into the hoards of bodies waiting for their minute with Harry.

She knew that she didn’t ‘convince’ Jeff of anything on her part. Everything she did with Harry was authentic and truthful. Including the thrilled grin that appeared on her face when she finally made eye contact with the exhausted man across the room. She gave him a shy wave that he sheepishly returned, biting back a shy smile. He pointed in the direction of his dressing room and mouthed “meet me in 15.”

She could never say no to him.

Fifteen minutes later, she was knocking on the large wooden door that had a single piece of paper that read STYLES haphazardly taped onto it. When it finally flew open, she was met by a soaking wet Harry with a towel hanging dangerously low on his hips. Her eyes trailed down his body without permission, taking in the toned torso that was decorated with his beautiful tattoos. Her eyes hovered over the two ferns that sat on his pelvis, too fascinated with the dark ink to pull her eyes away just yet.

She had obviously seen him in various states of undress before. They lived together on a tour bus without much space to exist with privacy, but this was different. He wasn’t rushing to get dressed or quickly changing his outfit. And he wasn’t moving away from her gaze at all.

If she hadn’t been so entranced by him, she would have noticed he was looking her up and down in the exact same manner.

She had changed since she had seen him last. The skin-tight black velvet romper she had brought along for the afterparty now fit her snuggly and held her every curve. The dark fabric was tight and appeared almost painted on, a rainbow racing stripe making its way down either side of her chest. The short shorts of the outfit exposed nearly all of her legs and the deep neckline put much of her chest on display as well. It’s long sleeves were her favorite part, as a strip of fringe dangled from below her arms any time she moved.

“You look great,” Harry finally choked out, his voice pulling their eyes back up to the other’s face.

“Oh, thanks,” she said, slightly awkwardly. “You too.”

“Well, I’m hopefully not going to the after party dressed like this,” he chuckled before stepping aside and ushering her into the room.

His dressing room was much larger than hers and she settled herself on the brown leather couch in the corner as she waited for him to get ready, sneaking glances up from her phone often. She chuckled as she watched him spend far too long fussing with his curls in the mirror, but was quickly distracted by the way his back and arms flexed when he reached up to muse his hair. Once he was satisfied with the way it fell, he disappeared into the bathroom at the back of the room. When he emerged, he was finally dressed, allowing her to take a deep breath and to focus on something other than his bare skin for the first time since he had opened the door.

The black satin suit was simple for him, but the tight white tank top that sat underneath hugged every muscle in his torso. She knew as soon as he got in the hot club, he would lose the jacket, and she would be devastatingly distracted once again.

The narcissist took one final look at himself in the mirror before turning to her and extending a hand. “Ready, darling?”

“You just spent 15 minutes exclusively on your hair and you’re asking me if I’m ready?” she teased as she took his hand, weaving her fingers between his as they exited the room together.

He leaned down close to her ear as they walked down the now mostly empty hallway, lips brushing over the hollow of her ear as he spoke. “I could have done it faster, but you were so obviously enjoying the show.”

“Relax yourself, Magic Mike,” she muttered indignantly, but hung her head in a way she hoped he couldn’t see how flustered he made her. Was she really that obvious?

They walked hand in hand out to the parking garage, now caught in a back and forth about whether or not Harry could be a male stripper. He said yes. She said no, although she did admit at one point that he worked his mic stand like a pole.

“Hey Jeff,” he called when they finally reached the parking garage where Jeff and Glenne had been waiting for them to head to the club. “Do you think I could be a stripper?”

“I think people would pay a lot to see it, but they may be disappointed in your dancing skills.”

“Come on,” he playfully whined. “I have some moves.”

“You have one move,” Y/N cut in with a chuckle, “and it’s the wiggle.” She brought her hands up near her chest, tilted her head back while dramatically biting her lip, and swayed her arms by her sides, earning a chorus of laughter from the people around her.

She hadn’t even realized she had done the move without releasing Harry’s hand first, dragging his arm into her dance as well, until their manager commented on it. “You know, you two don’t have to be holding hands all the time and keeping the show up back here,” he said with a slightly suspicious quirk in his eyebrows.

Her smile had been in the process of fading, like they had been caught doing something wrong, before Harry answered smoothly. “We know. Just practicing.”

There were those words again. Just practicing, she thought over to herself. But was he practicing anymore? How many flirty comments, heartfelt compliments, and warm touches did it take to cross the line of practicing to the real thing?

She wasn’t sure about Harry, but she knew that she wasn’t just practicing anymore.

She knew that the way they sat nearly on top of each other in the large SUV on the way to the club felt more than friendly. And the way he hadn’t stopped touching her in some way since they left his dressing room insinuated far more than something with business-like intentions. And the way he looked at her everytime he caught her eye the entire way to the club, always with a bright smile and adoring gaze that she always returned, pulled at her heartstrings far more than they should have if this was all an act.

A sloppy and cheeky grin settled almost permanently on his features after he had a few drinks in him, his arms moving in a lazy and fluid manner as she took in his many tattoos that he had exposed when he ditched his jacket (just like she knew he would). His butterfly was visible through the tight ribbed fabric of the white tank top and the little birds that peaked out from underneath seemed to be inviting her even closer to him in her now inebriated state.

All she wanted to do was to connect her lips with his as she watched him make conversation with someone from his management, entranced by the way his perfect mouth moved as he spoke. She once again craved the shocks of electricity that were created between them at the contact and could not stop thinking about it no matter how hard she tried. The protective hand that had settled onto her hip and continued to hold her close to his body just wasn’t enough anymore.

The pair had been drinking far too much; martinis turning into vodka sodas that had turned into straight tequila shots. She believed it was tequila shot four that did her in. The last thing she remembered was licking the line of salt off the back of her hand, downing the shot, and being entranced by Harry’s eyes as she bit down on the slice of lime he held carefully with his jeweled fingers.

***

The next morning, Y/N woke up in a hotel room that she didn’t recognize with a pounding headache and a swirling gut. It felt like she had been hit with a truck and she could barely pick her head up off the pillow.

She had so many questions about what had happened the night before. Where was she? Who let her drink that much? Whose clothes was she wearing? But most of all, what the hell happened after that fourth shot?

But she realized the worst was yet to come when she heard soft snoring coming from beside her. She knew that snoring well. It was the snoring that kept her up half the night for the last two months and the one that had almost driven her to suffocating her bus-mate in his sleep; the snoring that matched the crumbled black suit she just noticed in a ball on the floor.

It took every ounce of strength in her body to pull herself from the pillow and turn around in the bed to have her suspicions confirmed.

There he was.

His dark long eyelashes were fluttered down across the tops of his cheeks and his hair was going in every direction, skin clammy like his body was trying to rid itself of all the poison he had ingested the night before. The crumpled comforter was pushed down his stomach, his bare skin holding a sheen that helped define every dip or curve of his muscles and the tiniest bit of the band of his boxers peaked out to assure her that he at least wasn’t fully naked next to her.

Why were they in bed together? And why did he look so good? Oh my god, she thought as a possibility dawned on her. Did we sleep together?

“Harry,” she murmured softer than she intended, voice scratchy and mouth dry. The soreness at the back of her throat clued her into the copious amounts of screaming she must have done last night. He didn’t stir at her gentle coaxing, the light streaming through the windows making him look angelic as it covered him in a blanket of soft light while he continued to sleep.

It was a hard nudge to his chest that finally made him open his eyes, immediately releasing a groan she was sure she made when she regained consciousness too. He looked at her puzzled, still rubbing sleep out of his eyes as he propped himself up on his elbows. He took an equally confused look around the hotel room before looking back at her. She watched as the gears slowly turned in his head until his eyes opened wide and he spring up into a sitting position to mirror hers.

“We didn’t,” he whispered hopefully. “Oh my god, did we?” he asked, a look of horror crossing his face that matched her own.

“I have no idea,” she anxiously replied. “I was hoping you would know!”

“You don’t remember anything?”

“The last thing I remember was doing tequila shots with you.”

“I remember those.” He rubbed his eyes hard like it would somehow jog his memory. His eyebrows knit together, buried in thought as he searched his brain for a timeline. “I can follow the night up until we did karaoke.”

“We did karaoke?” she repeated incredulously and was met with a somber nod. “Do I even want to know what we sang?”

He shook his head slowly, shame clear on his face, before he finally mumbled. “We did ‘It’s Raining Men.’”

“Oh my god, no,” she whined, holding her head in her hands and rubbing her temples. There were surely videos of them sloppily singing on top of a bar circulating online and she wasn’t sure how Jeff would be able to spin that one in a positive light.

“Where’s your phone?” he asked, a hopeful glint in his eye as he reached for his own. “Maybe there’s something on there that can clue us in.” It took her a moment but she finally spotted it on the ground in the corner of the room. She said a silent prayer that it wasn’t dead or broken.

Forcing her heavy limbs out from under the covers she made her way towards the device, but not before she heard a confused sound coming from Harry. “How did you get my clothes?”

Looking down at herself and taking in the red lettering that read But Daddy I Love Him across her chest, it clicked that the t-shirt and baggy basketball shorts were his. But how they hell did she get into them?

“I think we’ve established at this point that I don’t know anything that happened after about midnight, Harry.” Her words came out laced with slight frustration. She hoped he knew she wasn’t annoyed with him, just their situation.

“Just a question, princess.”

She ignored his quip and began to search through her texts, call history, and photos, hoping to find anything at all that could help trace their steps through the night. She found nothing but a few selfies of them still at the club. One was the pair casually smiling, the next was one of him kissing her on the cheek that made her skin warm, but the final one made her snort out a laugh.

“What’s so funny?”

“I have a picture on my phone of you with two martini olives shoved up your nose,” she spoke through hysterical laughter. “Definitely birthday post material if you ask me.”

“Let me see,” he demanded with an adorable scowl.

She passed her phone over to him, still letting a few chuckles fall past her lips. “I’m gonna change your name in my phone to ‘Olive Nose Styles.”

“You're cruel.”

“You’re the one that put olives up his nose and then posed for a picture!”

“Whatever,” he grumbled, turning attention back to his own screen to continue his investigation. “There’s nothing of use on my phone either.”

The two flopped back on the bed, staring at the ceiling in the frustrated confusion. There was so much of their night that had gone up into smoke, completely unaccounted for with no clues as to what they did. Each traced their steps over and over again in their heads as they hoped desperately for a single detail that would lead them down a path to bigger memories, but it never came.

“Are we going to have to call Jeff and ask him what happened?” she finally murmured.

“I think so.”

“He’s going to put us both in client timeout, isn’t he?”

“We’re probably already there,” he groaned as he picked up his phone and hit Jefe Jeff-e in his contact list, putting the call on speaker and resting it on his still bare chest. The man on the other end picked up almost immediately.

“Morning Sleeping Beauty, I was wondering when I was going to hear from you.”

“Hi Jeff,” he groggily started then stopped, searching for the words that would make this all less uncomfortable. “Y/N and I have some questions about last night.”

Jeff let out a strained chuckle. “Yeah, that doesn’t really surprise me after last night’s bar bill.”

“Um,” Harry hummed, stammering but unable to form any real words.

“You sing about sex for a living,” she hissed at the man next to her before yanking the phone off his chest. “Jeff,” she started, taking over the conversation for them both. “Do you know if we slept together?”

“Probably not. You both were pretty unconscious when I put you in the hotel room.” His words prompted a massive sigh from both of them, looking to each other to share a relieved smile.

“Oh thank god,” they mumbled in unison.

“Jinx,” he smirked under his breath, prompting a ‘shut up’ from her.

“How did I get into Harry’s clothes?”

“I stopped by the tour bus when I realized you two probably shouldn’t be trusted not to roll out of your top bunks. I got you some clothes to sleep in before we took you guys to the hotel.”

“But why Harry’s?”

It was Jeff’s term to get squirmy. “I felt weird going through your things.”

“But you were perfectly fine with going through mine?” Harry asked, only half joking.

“Absolutely,” he deadpanned. They were all quiet for a moment before Jeff began again. “You two really don’t remember anything else that happened?”

“Everything after about two is unaccounted for,” she confessed.

“Oh,” Jeff chuckled. “So, you don’t remember when you stuck your tongues down each other’s throats on the ride home?”

Fuck.

Her eyes raced up to Harry’s from the phone she had been staring at like it held all the secrets of the night before. His easily readable features displayed all his emotions that surely matched hers. His pupils had grown in surprise, taking over nearly all the green in his wide eyes, and an embarrassed blush tinted his cheeks in a red hot flush that had reached the tips of his ears. His eyes flashed to the blank wall in front of them, running a stressed hand through his curls, like if he wasn’t looking at her, he would be able to focus better on the newly revealed information.

She couldn’t say that she didn’t relate. Her mind often went blank when she looked at him too. But right now, it was racing, occupied by anxious thoughts and intense emotions she couldn’t quite place, but felt with her entire being.

Her inevitable downward spiral was interrupted when Harry stiffly cleared his throat. “Uh,” he started, scratching the back of his neck uncomfortably. “We’ll see you later.”

“Sounds good, love birds,” Jeff replied, a clear snark apparent in his voice. Neither of the pair dignified his teasing with a response, Y/N quickly ending the call.

Silence hung heavy in the air and she let her eyes hover over the phone for too long when she settled it down on the bed, unwilling to connect her eyes with his just yet. Harry always had a way of staring into her and revealing all her cards to him before she even knew them herself. She wanted to hold them close to her chest for a moment, protecting the heart that longed for him more than anything else in the world.

There were no words exchanged between the two for a while as they silently took turns in the bathroom and occupied their hands and thoughts by their phones. They walked on eggshells anytime one neared the other. A tension like this hadn’t existed since the very first day they met, the first day they had begun to pretend.

Maybe that's why Harry was being so quiet. Maybe he never wanted to cross that line of pretending like she did. Maybe she had been blinded by his generally friendly personality and tricked herself into thinking there was anything more than a charade between them. Maybe last night really was just a drunken mistake, no matter how much she wanted it to be more.

“Maybe it’s a good thing that we don’t remember what happened last night,” she finally murmured from the opposite end of the room. She rested the side of her still heavy head and muscles against the wall, arms crossed in front of her as if they could keep her safe from the tension they had created. Her fingers nervously played with the hem of his t-shirt she was still dressed in.

“Why is it a good thing?” he almost immediately responded from the chair on the other side of the room he had settled himself into, running his hands along the satin pants of last night’s outfit he had put back on during their awkward shuffling around the room. He had even put physical space between them since they found out what happened, causing her heart to feel as if it was teetering on the edge of disintegrating.

“Well,” she stuttered, refusing to look at him and continuing to pick at her nail polish. “We’re just pretending so it would be weird if we really remembered it.”

“I don’t think it would be weird.”

“I don’t know,” she tried to maneuver her way around his response. “It might just be embarrassing to think about it.”

He let out a long and frustrated sigh, running his hands down his face. There was so much going on behind his eyes and she wished he would say something, anything, to break down the wall that hadn’t existed between them in months that was slowly reappearing.

“Do you regret it?” he asked bluntly, the abrupt question shocking her body to attention. “Do you regret any of this? Any of us?”

Did she regret drinking too much? Yes. Did she regret making out with him in front of their manager? Yes. Did she regret denying her feelings and pretending they didn’t exist for so long? Of course. But, did she regret falling in love with him? Never, not even for a second.

“No, I don’t,” she let out with a gentle shake of her head, no louder than a whisper.

“Neither do I.”

The words had barely left his lips before he crossed the room and crashed them into hers. The same fire she had felt on stage returned ten times over as his lips moved smoothly over hers, every neuron in her body lighting up like a switchboard. Her fingers reached up to curl into his hair and pull his lips impossibly closer to hers as her heart hammered in her chest with a passionate love she had kept under wraps for so long.

He tasted like the spicy peppermint toothpaste the hotel stocked in the bathroom and smelled like the tiny bottles of shampoo that rested on the side of the bathtub; but there was so much else about him that was completely unique–wholly irreplaceable and indescribable. He was just Harry.

Teeth clashed, lips were bitten, and hair was pulled as they took in every sensation the other created. His lips had been the only thought that captivated her mind since they were on stage the night before and her return to them did not disappoint. If her head wasn’t dizzy and her lungs not screaming at her for air, she would have stayed in that moment forever

When they finally disconnected, they stood against each other in a heaving and disheveled mess of heavy breathing and adoringly dazed smiles. She swore she could feel the pounding of his heart under her fingertips that rested on his chest.

“That was nice,” he eventually murmured down at her through heavy breaths, a love drunk grin finding its way onto his swollen lips.

“Yeah, I agree,” she hummed breathlessly, her anxious thoughts quiet and calm for the first time she could remember since she met him.

“I’m kind of disappointed I don’t remember doing that the first time,” he chuckled softly at her, shaking his head lightly in embarrassment with his pink tinged cheeks on full display.

“That’s okay. We were ‘just practicing’ then, right?” A giggle left her lips as she used the words against him. The same words he had used every time they let a glimpse of their true affections for each other slip past their guarded and friendly facade.

His dimples were exposed when he smiled a giant grin and let out a knowing huff, piecing together that she had caught onto his trail of excuses. “Yeah, just practicing,” he repeated softly, before his tone turned sincere and genuine. “I don’t want us to pretend anymore.”

“Good,” she said softly as her fingers slid up his neck to beckon his lips back down to hers. “I never was.”

“Neither was I.” She watched a soft smirk appear on his lips as they hovered over hers. “Do you want to keep not practicing?”

“Depends,” she quipped, lips brushing over his as she spoke. “Am I better kisser than Taylor Swift?

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING!! REBLOGS AND FEEDBACK MEAN THE WORLD!!!

An extra for our babies can be found here!

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swimmingleo · 3 years

Text

HS1 // THE WALL : A MESS

I love love LOVE HS1. When it came out, I had absolutely no idea what it was about as a whole and that’s the best thing ever because then you basically spend a lifetime (nah) trying to make sense of it and it’s SO MUCH FUN. Here it is, a monster post text about how Harry is the biggest Pink Floyd fanboy ever and we kind of share that really.

Before I start here are some Pink Floyd parallels posts I really love, courtesy of @bluewinnerangel: here and here. The second one is mostly clownery on my part I apologize but it’s a warning of what’s to come in this long ass post.

... this won't make the cut to my professional portfolio.

THE WALL: WHAT IT’S ABOUT

DISCLAIMER just so we're clear, I don’t think this wall has anything to do with someone else’s walls. I think the inspiration and creative process behind both their albums are really different so what I'm saying about HS1 doesn't necessarily apply to Walls. But hey, as someone once said, a wall is a wall.

The Wall is a concept album by Pink Floyd with a narration: it tells us the story of Pink, a rockstar on the verge of a breakdown. He ends up building a metaphorical wall around him. Each brick represents a trauma (the passing of his father during the war, his upbringing, his school education, the Blitz, his love life). Pink isolates himself in a hotel room and the wall is absolute. From there it's a free fall into depression and madness before he makes his wall fall eventually.

Now let’s talk about HS1. We know the sound of some of it kind of reminds us of Pink Floyd, as pop tabloids said (they do love forcing down parallels as much as I do). We also know that with this album, Harry wanted to say things he couldn’t before, and it's all about him, his struggles. Sad stuff.

“I don’t want to hear my favorite artists talk about all the amazing shit they get to do. I want to hear, ‘How did you feel when you were alone in that hotel room, because you chose to be alone?'”

Harry really really likes the idea of being alone in a hotel room for this album.

What we also know is that the album was supposed to be named "Pink". Let’s take a look at the album cover real quick:

Harry is not facing us, he's naked and curled up on himself, surrounded by pink water.

My interpretation regarding this whole analysis: he doesn’t let us in by turning his back on us. Yet he’s still vulnerable and exposed because he’s naked. Pink water is not pure, it's a result of toxic waste. Therefore it could be the form his wall takes: Pink's wall is made of bricks/traumas, Harry's is made of toxic substances/traumas. Here an interesting interpretation by billboard that helped me.

Harry trapped underneath blood water on the SOTT cover:

Harry above water in SOTT's mv standing taller than it

SO this once named “Pink,, album cover could be his own take on Pink’s character. From the get go, he compares himself to the protagonist of The Wall.

HS1 begins and ends within 4 walls: Harry is waiting for someone to come out of their room in MMITH and ends up alone in a hotel room in FTDT. Another bedroom in Only Angel. A room (kitchen) in Two Ghosts. Walls are also mentioned in ESNY (Understand I’m talking to the walls). Regardless of the whole album progression, the setup barely changes, which makes me think that while Fine Line tells us a linear narrative, HS1 is more of a reflection on past traumas with no resolution in the end. Swimming in a fish bowl, a glass half empty. Contrary to Pink who gets to make his wall fall at the end of the album, Harry’s walls are still up. His first album is just the beginning of his solo career, of his story.

For this post I'll focus on some parallels that strike me as LOUD, whether it’s a specific theme, lyric or imagery.

MOTHERHOOD AND WAR

It’s SOTT appreciation time. What did Harry say about it ? It’s inspired by a mother dying after giving birth and basically warning her child about life in the span of 5 minutes. It’s also about various political and social issues, as he said once, vaguely answering a very pointed question in the midst of post 2016 political climate.

There is also a nice death imagery going on with the angelic choirs, the idea of seeing things from above, the bullets, the escapism. I don’t think it’s literally about a mother dying after childbirth. But I don’t think the mother explanation should be dismissed as just 'Harry talking out of his ass to get himself out of a delicate situation'.

I find a lot of interesting parallels with Pink Floyd’s song Mother. It’s about Pink remembering his overprotective mother, who projected on him her own fears and traumas and contributed to the building of his wall.

Just stop your crying it’s a sign of the time, SOTT

Hush now baby, baby, don’t you cry, Mother

… to point out the obvious. But it doesn’t stop here, there is also a lot of war talk going on:

Why are we always stuck and running from the bullets ?

Mother do you think they’ll drop the bomb ? / Mother, will they put me in the firing line ?

Of course the nature of the war differs from one song to another. Mother’s about WW2 and SOTT, well, oppression of some sort? me thinks closeting. Still in both cases the speaker feels trapped and is asking why. They’re seeking answers because the cruelty they suffer from is undeserved. Pink was a child caught in the war and Harry was a child caught in the money machine. Both are at the beginning of a long, tiring, dehumanizing journey. And a protective mother figure warns them about it.

Basically in both songs we have a voice who asks a dreadful question and a voice immediately attempting to soothe them somehow.

Why are we always stuck and running from the bullets ? > Just stop your crying.

Mother, will they put me in the firing line ? > Hush now baby, baby, don’t you cry.

Once again, I don’t think Harry is having a conversation with his mother the way Pink does. But I do suspect the use of motherhood as opposed to the violence and uncertainty regarding the future. He’s using a motherly tone as a way to cope, a made up inner voice to reassure himself. While Pink associates motherhood to trauma, Harry associates it to comfort. It tells him to Go forth and conquer.

Quick additions to the SOTT parallels with The Thin Ice, another song about Pink in relation to his mother:

We never learn, we’ve been here before, SOTT

Dragging behind you the silent reproach of a million tear-stained eyes, The Thin Ice

This voice of the reason reminds them they're carrying history somehow, a legacy. The weight of it adds on the pressure. This war isn’t only about them, it’s about a lot of people and it’s been going on for a long time.

And another addition regarding the war imagery in SOTT with Goodbye Blue Sky (Pink remembering growing up during the Blitz).

Why are we always stuck and running from the bullets ? / Breaking through the atmosphere and things are pretty good from here, SOTT

Did you ever wonder why we had to run for shelter when the promise of a brave new world unfurled beneath a clear blue sky ?, Goodbye Blue Sky

AND LAST BUT NOT LEAST a parallel between SOTT and Stop (where Pink the rockstar is exhausted and begs for his misery to end).

Welcome to the final show, hope you’re wearing your best clothes, SOTT

I want to go home, take off this uniform and leave the show, Stop

ISOLATION

As mentionned before, HS1 starts with MMITH: Harry waiting outside someone’s bedroom and almost begging for that someone to come out. More precisely, H just left the bedroom: he used to share that space with that person, but now there’s a wall between them.

In The Wall’s storyline, Pink completely cuts his ties with the outside world and locks himself in a hotel room: his wall is complete. From there, he wonders if he actually made the right choice isolating himself in Hey you.

Yeah, tons of MMITH and Hey you parallels ahead:

Meet me in the hallway, I just left your bedroom, give me some morphine

Hey you, out there beyond the wall, breaking bottles in the hall, can you help me ?

Is there any more to do ? Just let me know I’ll be at the door/on the floor

Would you touch me ? / Would you help me to carry the stone ? / Can you help me ?

I walked the streets all day

Hey you, out there on the road

Hoping you’ll come around

Don’t tell me there’s no hope at all

Maybe we’ll work it out

Together we stand, divided we fall

Is this not... A dialogue ? MMITH’s speaker is outside the room, staying around just in case the person inside needs them. They’re desperate to prove their unconditional support. Hey you’s speaker is inside the room, trapped behind the wall, and questions whether or not the person waiting for them outside would actually be ready to assume the responsabilities that come with helping them with the load.

Which leads us to the end of HS1, FTDT. Now, Harry’s alone, inside his hotel room as well. After a succession of songs expressing frustration, anger, despair, jealousy, which are as many bricks, he built up his own wall, just like Pink. He distances himself from the "you" in MMITH even more. Now they’re in the same situation:

Played with myself where were you ? / Even my phone misses your call, by the way

Hey you, out there on your own, sitting naked by the phone, would you touch me ?

Still going strong with the hopeless dialogue.

Right after Hey you comes the song Nobody Home, where Pink, fully isolated, gets more and more depressed and can only list the material possessions he bought with that rockstar money. More parallels can be made with FTDT:

Maybe one you’ll call me and tell me that you’re sorry too, FTDT

Ooh, babe when I pick up the phone there’s still nobody home, Nobody Home

AND REAL QUICK I’M SO ANNOYING SORRY THIS IS NOT EVEN HS1 BUT we can all agree that FTDT and Falling have a similar start right ? Alone in his bed, drunk and very sad. Allegedly Harry is at his lowest. Ok. This from Nobody Home…

All down the front of my favourite satin shirt / I’ve got a grand piano to prop up my mortal remains

… looks a bit like this ? Though it’s not satin hm.

… And of course he’s in a richly decorated room where he drowns in his sorrow again and again. This room is like a trap he can't escape.

ANYWAY what's interesting is: if Harry identifies to Pink so much throughout this album, to the point where he theoretically almost named the album after him, why is Harry the one beyond the wall in MMITH? Is there someone else who shares similar life experience, traumas, emotional bagage and who could also relate to Pink to some extent ? Someone so similar they could be the ''you'' in the ''we'' of SOTT ? The one Harry wants to get away from here with? Them against the rest of the world ? SOMEONE WHO’S QUITE FAMILIAR WITH A WALL METAPHOR ?

WAR AND KIDS

Another big part of The Wall is the famoso Another Brick In The Wall part 2. The song protests against the abusive school system that works like an industry : it formates people and rips one's individuality off... turning them into a copy of a copy of a copy...

“Hey, teachers! Leave them kids alone!”

“If you don't eat your meat you can't have any pudding...”

“All in all you're just another brick in the wall”

mh why is that blackboard there, what's on it?

…Maybe ?? I can't see very well so it's convenient but.. maybe?

AND I KNOW this is not about Louis but those melted smooth faced masks which all look the same also remind me a lil bit of the concept of the masks in Walls' mv..? a tiny tiny lil bit? coacoac anyone?

… and this is just a white brick wall and I suppose white brick walls are very common but it’s still there so I’ll take it.

In Another Brick In the Wall part 2, the kids are kept under control by the teachers with pudding as a carrot and stick approach (If you don’t eat your meat, you can’t have any pudding). In the film adaptation of The Wall, Pink dreams of the kids rioting and burning down the school. In Kiwi’s MV, there are no teachers or any adult (except H, who also self inserts as a kid). All the children are gathered in a school gymnasium around a gigantic pile of cakes.

So Kiwi the MV could be Harry’s sequel of ABITW p2: the kids successfully got rid of figures of authority and seized the cakes/pudding which were once used as a weapon against them. The MV feels like a dream sequence because it’s so random, therefore it could be Harry’s fantasy just like the kids rioting were Pink’s fantasy.

What's also interesting is that the persons who make their bread on the speaker's behalf (the woman in Kiwi and the teachers in The Wall) both have a sad love life at home:

When she's alone she goes home to a cactus, Kiwi

When they got home at night, their [...] wives would thrash them, The Happiest Days of our Lives

... Whereas ''home'' is basically Harry's only safe place, his constant, where he always go back to when he feels lost. This love Harry has no matter what makes him superior to them in that regard. "Them" is that external factor that is trying to take his love, his strenght away: the ones that are going to find him soon in Stockholm Syndrome, that made his lover walk away in Happily, that try to force him into submitting by telling him that nothing's ever easy, that the end is near. It's a powerplay between them and Harry, a war.

TO MAKE IT SHORT-ISH, what strikes me is that between the HCU (Harry Cinematic Universe lol) and The Wall, there is this common idea of a war that starts very early in life and results in absolute self-isolation. War corrupts kids, war makes money, war makes the world go round. Pink/Harry were exposed to it very young, had trouble understanding it and accepting it, and had to protect themselves with this metaphorical wall which eventually alienated them from everything.

It would also not be the first time Harry associates with the concept of being involved in a war of some sort: see the tattoo "won’t stop ‘till we surrender’’…

… or even a war involving kids: see the tattoo "I can’t change" inspired by Make It Stop of Rise Against. Bang, bang from the closet walls…

I don't really know how to conclude this properly so tchuss

#been writing this in 2 days #reading it again I have the 'damn ive been in my own head too much I need to get outside'#tbh from the moment H insisted on the color pink in that one French interview #I've been having thoughts like mmmm #'pink is the color of rocknroll' yeah miss me with that shit bluegreener king #I can't see colors for what they are anymore because of u #harry styles #song analysis #i always fear that people been discussing it all already and I wasn't aware aaa #my analysis #terrapin

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melohax · 3 years

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I’ve seen some people who finished Omori talking about how they don’t understand the game’s plot, what happens in the good ending or why the protagonist even decided to change his ways. So then, here’s my thoughts on Omori’s story.

Warning: SPOILERS AHOY. Only read this if you’ve already finished the game and seen the good or true ending. Or if you don’t plan on playing the game at all but still want to know the whole story.

I’ve seen some people around the internet talk about how Sunny’s character isn’t clear to them or how they feel Sunny doesn’t deserve a good ending. Here’s some thoughts I have on why I think Sunny’s growth was well depicted.

There’s two main routes you can go through in the game: the “Reality” route and the “Hikikomori” route.

In the “Hikikomori” route, Sunny stays in Headspace forever and we get to learn many additional details about him. Sunny’s parents are implied to have known what Sunny did to Mari all along. It’s also implied that Sunny’s mother covered the whole thing up and chose to present it as a suicide as well cus, in her own words, she can’t bear the thought of losing both of her kids.

Sunny’s mother insinuates her son isn’t a “good boy” even though she begs him to be good but she still sees him as her little boy (as seen by the overly-sweet and positive messages she leaves around the house and her voice mails) and needs him alive so she can survive her own grief. Sunny’s father is shown cutting down the hanging tree and telling Sunny he isn’t his son, presumably disowning Sunny. The father keeps being absent forever afterwards.

Fast forward to the present and the “Reality” route, Sunny’s moving in 3 days. He knows his time is up in the real world and the biggest catalyst for his personal growth is that he’s finally seeing his old friends in the REAL world after 4 years of only seeing their loving, idealized child version in dreams. For the first time, he gets to witness the collateral consequences of what he did to Mari in his now teenaged friends: Aubrey spirals into delinquency after feeling like she was thrown aside by everyone she loved. Hero is guilt ridden, can’t even go near Mari’s grave and gives up on his dreams of being a chef. Kel wants to make things better but feels powerless, useless and like a screwup. Basil lives in a miserable state of almost constant fear and psychosis.

Sunny finally gets to see the huge toll his lie took on his friends’ entire lives as they keep blaming themselves for not knowing about Mari’s supposed suicidal ideations. He’s finally forced to face reality and he still tries to hide in dreamworld but he can’t. The inhabitants of Headspace are all people or fictional characters he knows or likes in real life (that he changed in his dreams, like how Kim’s brother is a sweet gentle giant and Sweetheart looks just like the candy shop owner at the supermarket) and their quests end up leading him to events where he’s reminded over and over again his dreams will end soon (the end of the underwater highway, the tree near the whale, the shadows of Mari and Basil) and that he needs to delve into Blackspace.

This shows how his own subconscious mind knows well what needs to be done; he’s putting the mental and emotional effort of making himself face what he’s done, shown through the contrast between the whimsical nature of Headspace and the dark surrealism of Blackspace.

As this happens in Sunny’s psyche, in the real world he can try to “atone” a bit by doing good things for his little community like completing requests people around him have. He still has a lot of trouble being near Basil in the real world but considering his entire subconscious mainly revolves around finding and rescuing Basil, he wants and needs to face Basil sincerely before he runs out of time.

We’re shown through memories that Sunny’s personality was always quiet, wary, a bit distant and very bad at dealing with pressure. Some people even describe him as cowardly or mediocre but he was just a small kid who’s entire world ended when he was 12. Since then, he never left his house, spending most of his days asleep rather than awake. It’s no wonder his personality isn’t as developed as his friends. His friends, although they were also in immense pain, at least still continued to live beyond Mari’s death. Sunny didn’t. He only lived through sleep.

Subconsciously, it’s shown Sunny both loves and hates Basil. This is seen in Blackspace with the dialogue he has with the “strangers” walking in the void. They talk about how Sunny (as Omori) does horrible things to Basil in the darkness of Blackspace because he struggles with facing the truth of his own actions. It’s also revealed through datamine of Blackspace’s metaphorical photo album that Basil, in his attempts to save Sunny from the judgement of others and to get him to come out of catatonia, was the one who come up with the plan to hang Mari.

Sunny describes Mari as looking as if calmly asleep when he drags her up the stairs. Her eyes remained peacefully closed until Sunny and Basil hung her. Then, Sunny turned back to look at Mari’s corpse, her previously closed eyes were wide open. She might have even been still alive, might have opened her eyes during or after the noose was tied to her neck. Or the belief he saw her eyes open could have been a manifestation of Sunny’s guilt, instead.

Either way, the horrifying possibilities surrounding Mari’s death lead to Sunny handling his emotional pain by subconsciously taking it out on Basil. It’s why Basil in Blackspace is shown constantly suffering and dying in many different ways. It’s the only way Sunny has been able to deal with himself; by forcing Basil into the darkest corners of his mind, his perfect colorful dreamworld can’t be ruined by the ugly reality Basil’s mere presence represents. It’s less painful to try to forget Basil and to forever blame him for both of their sins.

Still, even with all these conflicted feelings, Sunny’s tried to come to terms with love he still feels for Basil many times before. The shadows point out how this isn’t the first time he’s tried to save the Flower Boy; how all the previous times before ended in Sunny failing to find redemption and so his mind turns back to torturing the Basil of his dreams instead.

However, one of the Blackspace shadows also mentions a very important detail that changes almost everything this time around: his time is almost up in the real world. Whether this means he’ll commit suicide or move away, it’s almost time for him to leave the friends he’s always loved so much behind.

Sunny is forced to do a lot of internal work and self-reflection in what little time he has left. It’s shown through his dream actions, the surreal imagery surrounding him and the characters with all the sub plots his subconscious makes up.

In the route to the good ending, he traverses Blackspace and manages to listen to every harsh truth Basil’s shadow has to tell him. His attempts to save Basil mean he’s fighting his own mind, forcing himself to accept the truth.

To achieve redemption for his greatest mistake, Sunny needs to start with accepting Basil entirely; he has to stop making Basil take the brunt of their combined regrets. It means being willing to finally face the REAL Basil instead of permanently burying him in the most painful place within Sunny’s mind.

So basically, it’s obvious to me that Sunny is forced out of his “comfortable” hikikomori misery the moment he opens the door to meet the REAL Kel.

Sunny and Basil have a confrontation in the real world. When Sunny entera Basil’s room, we see poor Basil suicidal and at his limit. He’s clearly in the throes of a psychotic episode and at the mercy of hallucinations and delusions he can’t escape from (“There’s no way out of this is there, Sunny?”). Basil attacks you in an attempt to save you by killing the “thing behind you” but as we know, there isn’t actually something behind you.

There was never any monster to take the blame for Basil’s regrets, nor yours. It’s always been just you.

Meanwhile, Sunny is trying his best not to completely lose his shit so he can save Basil and stop him from potentially killing the both of them. Sunny likely loses an eye in the fight, shown by the blood coming from your socket and the bandage over it in the hospital.

Incidentally, the eye you lose is on the same side as the eye that can be seen peeking through the hair of Mari’s face as she’s hanging from the tree.

In the good ending, the song at the end talks about how even after confessing the truth, Sunny is alone once again, so it’s not actually clear if Aubrey, Kel and Hero actually forgave him. I feel like this is deliberately left up to interpretation by the writers. The lyrics then continue on to say Sunny still finds it hard to wake up, still finds himself plagued some days with lingering regret, but that he still tries to take it all one step at a time to carry on living.

With the song’s lyrics in mind, the end scene that shows Basil and Sunny smiling at each other while Mari’s shadow leaves them doesn’t mean they’re completely fine all of a sudden. Whether their friends forgave them or not, they at least finally have the relief of honesty. The burden of their unbearable shared secret is now off their shoulders. It’s finally out in the open, which means they both can now start healing and working to find the redemption Sunny was looking for in Blackspace. It also means they can go back to loving each other again without the crushing pain they both felt in each other’s presence.

I agree that Aubrey and the gang get pretty left out in the good ending, though. I wish there was more of them and their reactions to the truth BUT I think it’s sadly a deliberate choice by the writers to leave their reaction up to the player’s interpretation. This can feel extremely unfulfilling to many people (me included, I hate when authors do that tbh) but also to many others that’s a good thing cus they get to apply their own personal meaning and feelings.

I personally feel like the friends forgiving Sunny and Basil right off the bat would be incredibly unrealistic. I think they would need a lot of time (especially Aubrey) for them to forgive the lie that wrecked their lives for years. Forgiveness isn’t impossible but it would probably come in the form of a slow, difficult, heartbreaking process. Bittersweet.

Redemption isn’t just about forgiveness, anyway.

Even if a person is never forgiven by the people they’ve hurt, they can still find redemption for their actions through doing good for the people around them and the world at large. An example of this is shown through what Sunny can do on his last days in his neighborhood. The gratitude and additional flowers he receives in the hospital from each person he’s helped are proof he can still do good for others even after something as horrible and unforgivable as accidental murder. In a way, it’s proof that his life is still worth living.

But ultimately that’s just my own interpretation of the ending and I understand other people would interpret it all differently. Some see forgiveness as a given in the story while there’s also others who think Sunny doesn’t deserve forgiveness or those who think Sunny is a sociopath/psychopath or that Basil is the true villain of the game. I think this is why the ending was left so open, to favor all the different interpretations people have of it.

ETA: Here’s a different take on Sunny’s parents. This post argues that, despite the initial implications, they actually didn’t know about the attempted coverup. It’s a really good writeup explaining the whys and hows and has me reconsidering that part of the story!

https://www.reddit.com/r/OMORI/comments/kr9nvx/major_spoilers_regarding_sunny_his_parents_and/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=ios_app&utm_name=iossmf

#omori #omori game #omori sunny #omori basil #omori spoilers #spoilers #i said id wait before doing a post like this lol #but here i am #omori meta

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son-fuori-di-me · 3 years

Text

"I had no idea I could change someone's life."

One Shot. Word Count | Around 3300. Description | <French female pov> you're visiting Rome for the first time, and you casually meet Damiano David the day before the Circo Massimo concert. The conversation takes a unexpected path.

Content | Real talk. No romantic development. * Expect French idioms and italian approximations from automatic translators

---

"Bordel, c'est immense !" ("Holy cow, that's big !") I said, looking at the Circo Massimo.

It was my first time in Rome. Knowing Italy a bit, I expected a hell lot of sun, a delicious bunch of ice cream for each meal, and tons of pretty things to snap with my phone. Well, that was the plan for my first two days there. Cause Saturday would be a very different day. Saturday would be Måneskin day.

I've been waiting for so long to do this trip. And what a blast it has been for now. Took only a bag, my external battery, some makeup and my favourite clothes to finally discover this astonishing city. This was my first solo trip. I've always travelled with my family or my ex, but never on my own. For once, I could decide what I wanted to see, what I wanted to eat, when to take a break. And as there are plenty of things to see in Rome, i wanted to enjoy every second of my trip. I could focus my last day there solely to the Måneskin concert happening that Saturday night. But as I didn't want to leave anything to chance, I decided to precisely organize my last day, so I could visit a bit more - a get a last fantastic meal before the concert.

I got myself a gold pit ticket. I guessed that would mean I had a special queue. So on Friday night, as I was back from a late tour in town, I decided to watch more closely the Circo, to check for the entrances, and see how I could sharpen my organization and schedule for the next day.

"J'espère que je vais pas avoir à poireauter toute la journée, avec la chaleur qu'il va faire." ("I hope won't have to hang around here all day tomorrow, the weather's gonna be hot as hell")

It was almost 10 pm. I was getting closer to the Circo, trying to read the boards, but all was written in italian and didn't seem to concern the concert. And a year fangirling over Måneskin clearly wasn't enough to become fluent. I saw no sign mentioning "gold pit". So I decided I would ask around, with Google translate ready in my phone in case I couldn't find anyone speaking English.

I saw a guy sit on a bench, smoking. He was dressed in an ugly dark sweater, with the hood over a cap. He was either a drug dealer or a hobbo. My instinct as a girl living in Paris got the uphand and I decided to ignore the guy and try to find a woman instead, or maybe a group of locals, to get me the information I wanted. Unfortunately, after a good 20 minutes walking around and asking people, no one could tell me how to make sure I find the right queue for the concert. I was about to give up and head back to my airbnb and I saw a silhouette still sitting on a bench, near the Circo. It was the same guy from earlier. "Bon, je tente, s'il est trop chelou, je me barre." ("Well, might as well take the risk, if he's too much a weirdo, I clear off quickly.")

"Scusi, do you speak English ?" i said, getting closer to the guy, but still from a good distance in case it turned wrong.

"Pretty good. You need something ?" He was searching something in his pockets and reached his pack of cigarettes. His voice was deep, but gentle. He did look funny but didn't sound dangerous - i still didn't get too close as I hate the smell of smoke.

"Do you know well il Circo Massimo ? I'm going to a concert here tomorrow and I want to make sure I find the right queue, but they haven't installed any sign yet". I asked, showing the structure of the stage behind me.

"Cute accent, where are you from ?" he answered, completely ignoring my question.

"Well, I'm French. So, do you know il Circo ?" I preferred to quickly repeat my question to let him know I wasn't interested in whatever he was trying to.

"Ah, Bonjour ! I speak a little French !" He said, now reaching for his lighter.

"Yeeaaaah cool, but how about the Circo ? I'd like to be here early enough, but I don't know wh-" I froze as he lighted up his cigarette. It was brief, but with the spark, I saw his face for a second.

"Hm ? You don't know what ?" He asked, with a smirky voice.

"Mais naaaan ?" ("Dont tell me -") I let out that typical French astonished sound without thinking. "You gotta be kidding me !"

He laughed as I was getting a little closer, staring at him. With one hand, he was putting his lighter back in his pocket, with the other, he lifted a bit his cap. It was him. It was Damiano.

I felt my spine shiver with that uncomfortable sensation of being around someone famous. As a journalist, I had my lot of interviews, so I knew there's no point in changing behavior around such people. But I still was flabbergasted to see him.

"Sorry, I didn't recognize you. Well, gotta say you're not dressed in your best outfit !" I chose the strategy of sass, to hide how impressed I actually was.

"That's my favourite sweater you're seeing me in, and I'm smoking hot in it" He said with a smirk, getting into the sassy game.

"Time off before the big day ?" I asked, completely forgotting about my initial request and switching to my interview mindset when I'm super focused about the conversation. "Shouldn't you be having a great night of sleep, to recharge your batteries ?"

"I don't feel like going to bed" He said, having no idea how the conversation would soon turn. Fortunately for him, I wasn't working in the music media industry. "That's quite a stage we're gonna play on."

I didn't know why he was talking to me about all of this. I didn't dare to ask him either. I just enjoyed the moment.

"Well, the Eurovision song contest was bigger, wasn't it ?"

"Hm, don't tell me about it, I still don't know how I managed that."

He suddenly had a strange tone in his voice. It didn't sound like the radiant and confident Damiano you see on Instagram stories or on TV interviews. I remembered where I heard him like that. In the 2019 documentary "This is Måneskin", the making of Il Ballo Della Vita album, in the sequence he's arguing with Vic on a train, as he tells her how anxious he can be get sometimes.

"Well, you did, didn't you ?" I put on a more serious voice. "And you had a ton more of pressure, representing your whole country ? So how a concert here in your home town could be worst than performing in front of all of Europe - not to say the whole world ?"

He was still smoking, listening in silence.

"Or maybe it isn't about how big the performance is but about performing in itself ? Why are you performing ? Why are you putting on a show ? All those fancy clothes and that makeup, who is it for ? For people to love you ? Or for you to love yourself ?"

Mais qu'est-ce que je branle ? Il va se barrer dans deux secondes, là c'est sûr (What the fuck am I doing ? He's leaving any second now.) I got a bit too excited about being able to share a few words with him. What's gotten onto me ? Well, let's go then.

"What is it you're running after ? Or running from maybe ? Some complex to compensate ? With all that smudge and confidence, that wouldn't surprise me."

He sat back on the bench. As he inhaled a deep breath of smoke, I saw a smile on his face. But I also saw his hand holding the cigarette shaking.

"Are you a psychiatrist or something ?" He simply said, as if he was trying to keep his voice as steady as possible.

I hesitated to tell him the truth. I was sure he would walk away the second he would know my actual job. Et puis merde, autant tout dire. (Well, fuck, might as well be honest.)

"Nope, I'm a journalist." I admited, as he looked right back at me with a surprised look. "Pretty much the same. We get appoitments with random people, listen to their life, observe their body language, and tell them our whole opinion about all of it, which might very well shape how they perceive themselves from now on."

"Only difference is that you don't have to keep anything secret. Right the contrary."

There. This was it. He was gonna leave now, for sure.

"Before you go, did I hit any truth ? Don't worry, I'm not in the music media industry, I won't write anything from our conversation." I hoped this information would save me a few more seconds with him.

He didn't answer right away. He didn't leave either. He kept looking at me, still smoking his second cigarette in a row now.

"Whatever it is you write about, I guess you must be good at it" he finally replied. "Cause you did score a few points."

Another short silence broke. As a fan, I was obsessed with his music, lyrics, and attitude. But catching a glimpse of what lied behind the glamour definitly caught my interest. I wanted to know more.

"Why are you here ?" I slightly deepened my voice, getting back to my interview tone, and kept on going with this as if that was usual business for me. "It's half past 10. You play on Rome's largest stage tomorrow. You surely better should be in bed, or be about to, before the big day."

In that moment, I had the upper-hand in the conversation. He was sat on the bench, I was on my feet in front of him, and therefore above him. Not the best approach to get someone's trust for an interview, but with a personnality like Damiano's, you gotta put your own show.

"I actually don't sleep much before big events like these" He finally answered, accepting his condition as an interviewee. "I don't sleep much at all."

"You're tend to insomnia ?"

"Not really, I just got used to 4-5 hours of sleep, that's it."

"Even during tours ? Cause this all sold-out European tour for Teatro d'Ira must have been exhausting".

"You have no idea, bellezza."

"So tell me." From there, I decided to change my strategy and sat on the ground, still in front of him, but giving him the upper-hand, to put on a more trustful atmosphere. "How are you doing ? And I don't mean, like casual 'yay, fine', I mean : how are you doing ?"

I still have no idea of my tactical move of giving him more space to express himself worked, or if he understood right away where I was leading him, but in the end, he still didn't seem bothered by this conversation we were having. In fact, it looked like he was enjoying it.

"I'm... content, I'd say." He paused, and I didn't interrupt him with another question this time. "I know I'm going through the life I wanted. The music, the tours, the praise. It's all I could have ever asked for."

D'accord, très bien, mais ? (Okey, very good, but ?) I stayed silent, but I couldn't help anticipating what he was saying.

"But surprisingly, sometimes it's still... unfulfilling. Like I can never be satisfied".

Repressing some Hamilton's lyrics from my mind, I innocently pretend I didn't fully understand what he meant - another journalistic technique, to get someone to repeat themselves with other words in order to get them deeper into their reflexion.

"What do you mean, "never be satisfied" ? You're on top of Spotify chart list, your albums are now platinum successes, you're winning awards. How is this not satisfying ?"

"It's just... What are all those things for ? Money ? Fame ? Yeah, I like those but..."

"Typical Capricorn" I muttered, to slide in the conversation that I actually knew pretty well my subject - my subject being him. He chuckled.

"Damn really ? Let me guess ? Aries ?"

"Pisces+Taurus, actually. So what, you don't like being famous ?" Getting back quickly into more questions - another technique to keep control over the rhythm of an interview.

"It's not that I dislike it. It's just... not always as fun as I thought it would be."

"What part of the job ? The writing and composing ?"

"No, that's the best part." He reached for a third cigarette. It was almost 11 pm now. "Vic, Thomas and Ethan. Måneskin. They're the best thing that ever happened to me".

"Then what, you feel like a fraud ?"

"Hell, no ! I'm exactly where I should be." He claimed, with a light pride tone.

"So, if you're proud of what you create, and if you love the people you create that with, then what is the matter ? If life is about getting the Bare Necessities, it seems like you got it all." Hitting with a universal - and musical - reference. Shoud do the trick.

"Hahaha ! Lo stretto indispensabile, si ! But life isn't that easy." He said laughing, as I felt he started to let go of the tension. "In real life, you get judged all the time, and people try to dismantle you, and spread rumors."

"I didn't think you'd be one to listen to people's comments about you".

"I'm not. I stopped giving credits to those. But it's still here, you know ?"

"From what I see, you're keeping it real, with lots of wisdom. I can't quite grasp what seem to bother you."

He paused, looking at his feet for a few seconds.

"I'm afraid it won't last." He finally confessed. "I'm afraid it all ends as quickly as it all started. I'm afraid people get bored. I'm afraid I become a caricature of myself. I'm afraid I can't write new songs. I'm afraid to be a shooting star, you see ? Very bright, but gone in a flash."

"Like, to be an Icare ? Or may I say "Ykaaar" like on your Instagram ?"

He chuckled again.

"Huh, I'm that obvious ?"

"Yeah, even a bit over-the-top, if I may dare say so."

"Well, I've always related so much with this mythological figure. I mean what's wrong with aiming for the Sun ?" He said, pointing a hand to the dark sky above us. From his attitude, I could tell he was way more relaxed than in the beginning. He even took his cap and hood off, so I could now see his face more clearly. His eyes were glittering. "Burning your wings... What's that morale supposed to teach us ? Be modest ? Be moderate ? Che noia !" (How boring !)

"Well don't be !" I felt almost like scolding him. "There's nothing wrong with seeking big dreams. As there's nothing wrong with this feeling of being outrun by your life. Savour the moment. Every second of it. It's because you can't know how long it may last that it tastes so good, so thrilling ! And you actually already are ten steps ahead ! Writing songs like ´Torna a casa' or ´Coraline' at, what, 19-20 years old ? You're the real deal, dude. And even if later on, you get blank page anxiety or write just good-enough songs, it's okey. You got plenty of time to make mistakes. Take the leap of faith. Failing and being a failure aren't the same. You learn, you grow from it. It's okey to doubt yourself, but please, don't ever doubt all the love and support you get."

I paused, hoping I didn't do too far and missed my point. But in a way, I could also feel I got it right. He was looking at the Circo, his eyes even more sparkling than before.

"I..." He got up, standing on the bench, looking as tall as a statue from my perspective. He came down and took a few steps. I got on my feet, starting to feel concerned about what I just said.

"I didn't know I needed to hear that." He finally confided. "I always wanna reach perfection. I'm aware I can be authoritative, sometimes even harsh, on the band. I can't accept to be a failure. But love and support, that, I can't get enough of."

I didn't respond. There was nothing to add. This instant felt like an hour. The wind was slightly blowing through the length of the Circo in front of us. His hair reflected the gentle light of the moon, only showing her first quarter. He broke the tranquility of the moment, turning and taking a few steps in my direction.

"Grazie mille" he said, his arms opened, calling for a hug.

"But, you're very welcome" I said approaching him, softly putting my arms on his back as he put his over my shoulders. The second before his face disappeared from my vision, i noticed a tear on his cheek.

"You've completed reset my mind. I feel like I can start all over again. I was anguished, trapped by my anxiety. But it's all gone now. You've changed me. Thank you, thank you so much" He affirmed full of hope, his voice shivering.

"Wow, well. I had no idea I could change someone's life." I answered, trying to hide how moved I myself was from the conversation.

------

It was almost midnight now. We kept talking for a while, comparing life in Rome and Paris, exchanging what was our best concert experiences. But he still needed to get back home to rest before the concert, and I didn't want to arrive too late at my airbnb - even if I could have spent the whole night talking with him. Yet, to enjoy our last few minutes together, he offered to walk me back to where I was staying. It was just a 15 minutes walk, along the Tevere river bank.

"So tell me." he asked with a smirk. "How does the Bare Necessities go in French ?" He started to muffle the melody.

"Oh no, you don't expect me to actually sing it ?"

"Hehe, you got me into a therapy session, so I can get a little song from you, no ?"

"Damn, you. This is blackmail !" But drunk on the moment, I took a deep breath.

"Il en faut peeeeeeu pour être heureux, ("Look for the baaaaare necessities,") vraiment très peu pour être heureux, ("the simple bare necessities") il faut se satisfaire du nécessaire !" ("Forget about your worries and your strife")"

I started dancing along, if I had to be ridiculous, might as well utterly be. But he actually followed my lead, clicking his fingers.

"In fondo, baaaasta il minimo, ("I mean the baaaaare necessities") sapessi quanto è facile ("Old Mother Nature's recipes") Trovar quel po' che occorre per campar ! ("That brings the bare necessities of life !")

We kept on singing Disney songs for a few minutes as we walked at a slow pace - I was shocked he never saw Tarzan and immediately made him promise to watch it as i told him Phil Collins recorded all the songs in five languages, including Italian. When we finally reached my destination, we exchanged a last timid hug as farewell.

"Well, I'll see you on stage tomorrow." I told him as I crossed the street.

"And I'll look for you in the crowd !" He shouted with the brightest smile on his perfect face.

** the end **

#maneskin #damiano david #maneskin imagine #damiano david x reader #maneskin x reader #my writing

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romanceboys · 3 years

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(interview) gq korea february issue 2021 — shinee minho “i’m still as passionate as ever”

1. i heard that your schedule ran until dawn today. you still look energetic. no matter how exhausted i am, my condition improves once i wake up and take a shower. because it’s like the usual morning routine. 2. you take pride in the fact that your stamina is second to none, right? it reminded me of something you said long ago. i wouldn’t go as far as to say that it’s my pride, but i do know my stamina is stronger than most. my energetic appearance is my positive characteristic as well. 3. moreover, it hasn’t been long since you were discharged from the marines. well, it seems like my stamina has gotten better. hahaha. 4. there must be a lot that you want to do. what do you enjoy doing the most these days? since it’s not the kind of situation where i can roam about freely, i’ve been spending a lot of time with my family. i was with them on christmas and new year’s. i’d barely done this since debut so i think it was a good thing. even in the military, i missed my people the most. 5. that must be why on the day of your discharge you made a surprise appearance at taemin’s music broadcast waiting room. in your military uniform. i rushed straight from pohang. the shinee members were gathered to support taemin, and the staff that had been with us for over ten years was present too. when i looked back on shinee’s activities in the military, the very fun and enjoyable memories felt vague, but on that day they became clear to me right away. this is why we’ve continued together for so long. 6. what do you talk about with your members? since we’re currently preparing for our album, we’ve been talking about us as a team a lot. things like shinee’s (future) direction and what we ought to show. 7. did you figure something out? up till now shinee has often attempted unique and novel challenges, musically and stylistically. there were times when things were derived from what we did first, or even times when we had to question ourselves “is this okay?” before taking a bold step. but because we're an idol group, we folded under inevitable stereotypes and could not ignore them. however, we now collectively agree on preserving our artistic aspect well in order to show off a more distinct musical colour. 8. agreed. can you tell us which song represents shinee’s identity? the title track of the 4th album ‘view’ was shinee’s turning point. prior to this, the group was mostly known for its strength in performance, but through this song we were able to show the type of musical colour we pursued. we tried deep house at a time when the genre was unknown to k-pop and though it was not done without reservations, we got the response we expected. it’s basically what the entire (odd) album stands for. 9. besides music or performance, is there any other scene that can portray shinee well? having overcome many obstacles, we can’t define ourselves simply by saying ‘yes, this is us.’ rather, if there were to be a documentary made on shinee, i wonder how it’d be like to have the opening scene unveil the members’ perfectly human state instead of their moments of glory. for instance, saying whatever i want to without hesitation. without worrying, without walking on eggshells. 10. are you a quiet person? though i do joke around easily, i try to be careful with my words. i’m more of a listener than a talker. 11. you lived entirely as choi minho in the military. did you live true to yourself or were you able to discover a new side? it’s both. i had a lot of time for introspection. i reflected on the time spent and thought about what was good or disappointing, it unveiled a side of me that i hadn’t even considered while working as shinee minho. rather than saying it changed me, i was able to understand myself more definitively as a person. what i could be honest about and careful with with people became clear to me, i also realised that my strengths can become my weaknesses. 12. what made you think that? i thought i had an outgoing personality, but in retrospect i was more concerned about the people around me than myself. the other party can only be at ease if i’m comfortable... i was so busy being considerate that i ended up becoming stressed without realising. 13. an upright and serious image comes to mind when we say minho, turns out there was a complicated reason for it. it’s because i wasn’t even aware of it. i believe it’s something i need to work on to become a better person. this is also why i’m looking forward to my thirties. i’m curious about the areas i’ll mature in. 14. among the expressions that describe minho are passion and giving it your all. when do you think was your most passionate era? when i debuted as shinee, practicing blindly and then promoting made me feel like i was lacking a lot which affected my confidence. after our first concert, however, i became less anxious and worried. i realised that there were many fans who supported me. all i could think of was that i had to give it my best. my passion from back then is still the same as ever. it’s my understanding that i’ve come all the way to the present without cooling down. 15. what meaning does passion hold for you? does it mean that you’re very ambitious/greedy? i used to think passion and ambition meant the same thing. i was very certain that you could achieve anything if you were ambitious enough and worked hard. i hypnotized myself into believing that because i wanted it so badly, not because i was being reckless. as i started gaining more experience, i began to differentiate between the two. if passion means doing what you can to the best of your abilities, then greed is limiting yourself when you try something new because you wonder whether you can do it well. and that is why confidence is important. if you’re confident, then you can carry greed with a positive energy. 16. have you now gotten used to acting and promoting as shinee at the same time? at first i thought i could do it even if it was difficult. turns out that wasn’t the case. killing two birds with one stone wasn’t as easy as i thought. i don’t want to let either go. instead of saying yes it’s hard or i’m disappointed in the results, i believe this is a problem i need to solve. 17. your first activity after discharge was acting. you made a special appearance in the drama ‘lovestruck in the city,’ what was your first line? “please wear this.” i cannot forget it. 18. why not? one of my favourite words is ‘first.’ your first experiences are always unforgettable. seconds are usually a vague memory. that’s why firsts are extremely meaningful. standing before the camera for the first time after discharge felt like i was starting anew. the scene wasn’t even that hard, but i was very nervous. just like the first time i acted, i vividly remember the day’s situation, people, the atmosphere, and the weather. 19. do you remember your first scene as well? it’s been more than a decade. it was a one-episode short drama; the scene was filmed inside a tow truck. i don’t remember my line very well, but the actors, the hustle and bustle of the staff outside the window, the glaring sunlight, the tow truck i sat in for the first time are all still very vivid. i try not to forget it. 20. do you remember the first praise you received for your acting? hm, many people around me say nice things, but i’ve never considered those as compliments. it’s because i don’t think i’ve done anything praiseworthy yet. so let’s just say my first praise doesn’t exist for now. 21. that is a very objective yet cool answer. then what do you think is something you need courage to do? everyday things.... like cooking. i can’t bring myself to even think about it, but i should attempt it before it’s too late. 22. by the way, you started sns. you did say in an interview that you did not see the need for socials, so what changed your mind? i received so many letters from fans in the military. i read every single one of them, and in most of them fans asked me to share my daily life through sns. though i did joke around saying that i’d rather hold a personal photo exhibition than create socials, i got one as a present for fans who spent two years waiting for me. but i’m not sure if i can manage it well. 23. do you tend to record your personal life through pictures like others? haha. not at all. i’m working towards it these days. 24. when was your sns profile picture taken? when i was three or four years old. i racked my brain over this too. whether to upload a sefie or to go for a cool vibe.

translated by romanceboys — take out with full credit (source)

#shinee #minho #interview #210121 #translations #gq korea february issue 2021 #e:the story of light epilogue

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cianishere · 3 years

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why richard robbins is a king among men, or an analysis of the maurice (1987) soundtrack

hello, i am gay, a former band kid, and a slut for classical music analysis…… so i’ve been wanting to do an in-depth analysis of Richard Robbins’ absolutely breathtaking soundtrack for Maurice (1987) for some time. it’s an incredibly emotionally moving work of art, but i also feel like there’s so much care and thought and soul put into the pieces of the soundtrack, and Robbins absolutely deserves all the credit in the world for writing the perfect accompaniment to the film. the songs have lives of their own, outside of the film, but they also breathe a certain life into the scenes when paired with the performances of the actors and the cinematography and camera work. the soundtrack means so much to me, so i wanted to take a moment (or a few thousand words or so) to expand on all of its intricacies. i’m not a professional musician or a music student, i’ve j been playing woodwinds for over a decade and can find my way around a guitar and piano, so these are my thoughts and interpretations as a musician. feel free to share yours! this was a bit of an undertaking, so i recommend reading while listening, and i hope u enjoy!

(the pieces are listed in order of their appearance in the film, not the album)

PROLOGUE - THE LESSON

The opening piece is a very traditional overture, setting the mood for the film and foreshadowing the (musical) events to come. It begins with a mysterious, almost eerie sound with pizzicato in the low strings and high woodwind and harp lines before opening into the dominating melody in the high strings. Though the melody is grand and moving, it also has an air of hesitancy, almost melancholy, and in this moment, we’re introduced to Maurice’s musical signature, the clarinet (specifically, the low clarinet line). The low clarinet triplets and the sets of five recurring notes in the low flute and violin create a sense of impatience and forward motion, as we can sense young Maurice’s uncertainty in his conversation with his headmaster. This section transitions into a solo in the English horn, which Robbins uses to represent the idyllic, pastoral English countryside. Here, it seems to signal both the natural surroundings that the scene takes place in, as well as the pastoral beauty of childlike innocence. This solo honestly gets me EVERY TIME, it’s so gorgeous and the gradual layering of other instruments underneath is mesmerizing. The piece ends with shrieking upward woodwind scales, capturing the sense of impending fear that we can sense in young Maurice.

AT THE PIANOLA

This piece is a bit strange to listen to outside of the film, as it plays in the scene as Clive and Maurice play Featherstonehaugh’s pianola in his Cambridge dorm room. The piece captures Clive and Maurice’s pianola playing, which echoes the thematic melody introduced in the opening composition, but the single piano line is quickly swept away by a traditional string orchestra before moving into a call-and-response between the high strings and high woodwinds. I always thought this piece was so beautiful in its development, growing from a simple piano melody into a fully orchestrated concerto. The melody, particularly in its piano form, always struck me as very French, reminiscent of the French Romantic pianists with some impressionist elements as well. The transition from piano melody into the full orchestra is welcome, but overwhelming—it evokes the excitement and intensity of falling in love, as the film reaches the precipice of Clive’s confession. The instrumentation is also fascinating here: as I mentioned previously, Maurice is musically represented by the clarinet and/or woodwind melodies, but Clive usually comes through as high strings. This piece is pushed forward by the strings, as the violin and viola take on the melody under the piano and are followed by the woodwinds. The woodwinds follow the strings in a call-and-response pattern, musically establishing Clive’s lead in their romance, with Maurice following along with his advances, especially at first.

MISERERE (GREGORIO ALLEGRI)

UGH I have so much to say about this piece. I want to start with its origins, which is a setting of Psalm 51 to music, at first for the exclusive use in the Sistine Chapel during Holy Week (a nod to this scene taking place in the spring, around Easter). We all know this piece and the scene it accompanies, as those shots of Cambridge (and that wicker chair) are forever immortalized in my heart (<333) The lyrics are incredibly significant, as Psalm 51 is a confession of sin by David—specifically, of his feelings of lust for Bathsheba.

Have mercy upon me, O God: after Thy great goodness. According to the multitude of Thy mercies, do away mine offences. Wash me thoroughly from my wickedness: and cleanse me from my sin. For I acknowledge my faults: and my sin is ever before me. Against Thee only have I sinned, and done this evil in thy sight: that Thou mightest be justified in Thy saying, and clear when Thou art judged.

David is asking for mercy for his act of sin, and to be “cleansed” from his lustful act by God.

Make me a clean heart, O God: and renew a right spirit within me. Cast me not away from Thy presence: and take not Thy Holy Spirit from me. O give me the comfort of Thy help again: and stablish me with Thy free Spirit.

He prays for God to return to his life, and to give him salvation again.

I think this choice of psalm is SO fascinating, as it can take on two meanings. On one hand, it represents the feelings of guilt that both Maurice and Clive feel for their attraction to each other, knowing that their feelings are considered to be sinful in their (and the societal) understanding of Christianity. In a way, this piece can signify both Clive and Maurice asking for that salvation and asking to be saved from their desire. On the other hand, however, I think the choice to overlay this particular piece with Maurice and Clive’s first moment of physical intimacy is critical in interpreting its meaning. Rather than asking for salvation from God, the psalm’s lyrics could also represent Maurice and Clive asking for salvation from each other through their desire. There are a few points in the psalm that could be read in a rather different light in this context, particularly “Thou shalt open my lips, O Lord: and my mouth shall shew [show] Thy praise.” The “high spirit” that they are searching for, in this case, is not the forgiveness of sin by God, but rather the intimacy and physical affection of a lover. (As Forster points out in a later section of the book, one’s God and one’s lover can be equal “incentives to virtue.”) I feel like this psalm is being used in both ways: as a reminder of the internal and external pressure that Maurice and Clive face, but also to musically express the reciprocal desire they are seeking from each other as they begin to explore the physical side of their relationship. This piece is also just so damn beautiful, the high C just gets me every fucking time. The specific vocal arrangement—and the excerpt of that arrangement—that Robbins decided to use highlights a solo female soprano, sounding almost like a Greek siren. As her voice emerges from the varying vocal textures, there is a sense of seductiveness, but there is also a loneliness there, as she stands alone among the choir. The choice to center the soloist was a beautiful way to show the loneliness that Maurice and Clive feel as they both continue to hold that fear and hesitancy about their feelings and desire.

THE CAFE ROYAL

This piece plays during the infamous “to the ladies!” scene, during which the Halls and the Durhams are dining together, and Clive announces his decision to become a barrister and enter politics. This piece begins as a classic, grandiose waltz, representing the glamor and high society lifestyle that the two wealthy families live within. At the beginning especially, it seems almost overstated, hinting at the façade of British upper-class life that Maurice desperately despises. As the piece continues, a duet of low clarinet and oboe emerge with a woeful melody that is built upon on its repetition by a dark solo cello line. (I don’t play double reeds or cello but they’re two of my favorites, and all I can say is that Richard Robbins knew how to pick instruments that fuck, plain and simple.) The contrast in mood created between this grand waltz sound and the individual instruments emphasizes the trapped, isolated feeling that both Maurice and Clive feel as upper-class British men, expected to have careers, marry, and build families. Stuck in the middle of their constructed lives, Maurice and Clive are represented by the duet and solo lines, standing out among society and desperate for an escape.

IN GREECE / THE WEDDING

This piece opens with a haunting melody that sounds almost like a chorus—I’m still not entirely sure what the instrumentation of this section is, but it sounds like high woodwinds and strings layered together and/or an echoey, chime-like percussion instrument. The lone melodic line overlaid with harp runs (again, Robbins said I will exclusively highlight instruments that fuck hard, and ignore everything else) in the beginning brings the same sort of haunting loneliness as in “Miserere,” evoking the duality of the Greek siren as well as the hymnal church choir. Gradually, the piece builds into a waltz through the development of a pizzicato bass line as well as running woodwind and string harmonic lines. I think the use of a waltz in this section of the piece is a symbol of the bitter end of Maurice and Clive’s relationship, as the minor key and legato melody in the high woodwinds gives the waltz a mournful quality.

The opening section of the piece is quickly interrupted by the abrupt and angry sound of an organ. Rather than romantic, this interlude is loud and overwhelming, representing Clive’s overzealous transition into heterosexual marriage and family life. The interlude then transitions into a beautiful but incredibly sad melody, reminiscent of the music that might accompany a funeral service. This short but emotive section is probably one of my favorites in the entire soundtrack—as it plays, we can see Maurice exiting the wedding chapel after Clive and Anne, and that hidden pain and fear and loneliness is brought to life by this melody.

PENDERSLEIGH IN GLOOM

Simultaneously romantic and melancholy, this short piano interlude demonstrates the inspiration that Robbins took from classical French pianists. This composition reminds me of a transition section within a Debussy piece as the uneven tempo and dynamics exude emotion, conflict, and hesitation. In this moment in the narrative, between Clive’s marriage and Maurice’s meeting of Alec, Maurice is in a state of contemplation and uncertainty, and Robbins has reflected that perfectly.

MISS EDNA MAY’S SURPRISE / THE TRAIN

Though this piece is definitely not the most sonically appealing, I think it is the most texturally interesting on the soundtrack. The piano melody in “Miss Edna Mae’s Surprise” begins as a playful, jaunty, idyllic piece, but quickly builds drama and transitions into the surreal and eerie. The melody wavers between fun and nightmarish, never fully settling into one, but establishing tension through the contrast between the two. As the piece builds layers of woodwinds and strings, it continues this contrast between the expected, playful melody and something more sinister before suddenly merging into a screeching, forceful ending with high woodwinds and piano. Similar to “The Café Royal,” this piece represents the internal conflict that Maurice faces and his fear of settling down into the heterosexual family structure. While there is a sense of joy and happiness on the surface level, as Maurice acts the part to uphold societal norms, internally he is incredibly afraid of being trapped in a cycle of marriage and family that would be unfulfilling and dishonest to his selfhood.

The next section of this piece, “The Train,” is one of the most creative compositions I’ve heard in a long time, and I was honestly blown away when I listened to it closely (and LOUDLY). Rather than using train sound effects, Robbins uses the sounds of the orchestra to emulate the different sounds one might hear on a steam engine train. The rhythmic beat of the railway tracks underneath the train car are created by repetitive staccato notes in the strings and percussion. The airy, legato sound of the steam engine is actually created by single reed woodwind instruments played in a particular way. The woodwind players are blowing air into their instruments with a very loose embouchure, which is the muscle tension created by the lips around the mouthpiece that forces the wooden reed to vibrate and create sound. By loosening their embouchure, the players are blowing air into their instruments without the reed vibrating, resulting in a sound resembling air or stream escaping from engine pipes (can u tell im a clarinet player :-)). The melody of this piece emerges in the high woodwinds, including upper clarinets, flutes, and oboe. The melody line is eerie and tense, much like the mood of the train scene in the film, and the blended lines are erratic and dissonant. They seem to echo and fade in strange ways, mimicking the sound of an approaching or departing train whistle. Robbins is able to capture the sounds of a steam engine locomotive while also establishing the tension and conflict in Maurice’s character in this scene. As a woodwind player, I am in complete awe at Robbins’ creativity in building this composition, and I honestly think his ability to layer these sounds to create such a complex, textured sonic landscape is nothing short of genius.

THE MOONLIT NIGHT (a tiny bit nsfw, feel free to skip!)

Maurice’s nightmare of the “sinking ship” of heterosexuality is brought to life through an eerie, isolated English horn solo over tense string chords, eventually transitioning into a low clarinet melody, Maurice’s musical signature. Slowly, as Maurice’s nightmare fades away and he wakes up from his sleep, the low clarinet melody diminishes and is overtaken by low, warm chords in the lower woodwinds (bass clarinet, my beloved <3). These low sounds are interrupted by hesitant but curious flute runs, through which Robbins introduces Alec’s musical manifestation. The flute sounds grow faster in tempo and more intense in sound as Alec watches Maurice from outside his room but reduce to a single line of low strings, woodwinds, and percussion as he climbs through Maurice’s window. This ominous and minimal sound is gradually layered with sudden high strings, led by Maurice’s low clarinet, before fading away into near silence until the first touch suddenly takes the piece into swift motion. It develops into a beautiful and intricate waltz as Maurice and Alec embrace, representing their intimacy through the style of a partnered ballroom dance. The melody of the waltz, layered over staccato strings, is an ascending, fluttering scale that begins in the clarinet before finishing in the flute. Robbins’ choice to compose the melody as a shared scale between Maurice and Alec’s respective instrumental representation is a perfect way to express their first night together, and the airy, light, understated flute is a brilliant way to embody the spirit of Alec’s character. In the final section of the piece, as the melody grows irregular and begins to fade away, the ascending lines and rhythmic pizzicato strings begin to mirror the gasping breaths and soft moans of intimacy, constructing a gorgeously imaginative musical landscape for this critical scene.

ALEC’S FAREWELL

This short but expressive piece captures Maurice’s transition from dejected acceptance of Alec’s departure to a tentative hope as he realizes that Alec has missed his boat to Buenos Aires. Plucked bass and a fragmentary string melody overlay a tense, oscillating clarinet line, representing Maurice’s internal anticipation as he anxiously fidgets in the taxi ride back to Pendersleigh. At this point, Maurice does not have confirmation that Alec has purposefully missed his boat to reunite with him, but the suspense created by Robbins’ minimalistic composition leaves room for such a possibility, without completely revealing its certainty.

THE BOATHOUSE

This piece begins as Maurice makes his way towards the boathouse on the evening of Alec’s expected departure. He has just spoken to Clive, confessing his love for Alec, and now hopes to be reunited with his lover in the boathouse, the safe haven that Alec had promised Maurice after their first night together. Continuing where “Alec’s Farewell” left off with an oscillating clarinet line and minimal strings, the piece quickly erupts into motion as a solo clarinet begins a low triplet melody, accompanied by strings and a solo oboe harmony (the clarinet line is fucking FIRE and I would pay so much goddamn money for the sheet music). The clarinet solo moves swiftly, desperately, shifting between major and minor keys to represent Maurice’s restless search for Alec. As he enters the boathouse, the clarinet ascends a scale before lingering on a high A, as if he is calling for Alec. When the call is not answered, the clarinet line repeats, bringing Maurice’s anticipation to its height until he opens a second door and finds Alec resting within the room behind it. As the two meet and share a moment of reconciliation (“So, you got the wire, then?”), a lingering bass note (another one of Alec’s musical representations) swells into serene, legato woodwind chords that echo until their final kiss, and Alec’s “Now we shan’t ever be parted, and that’s finished.”

While listening to this song more closely, I was completely struck by its similarities to Leonard Bernstein’s “Somewhere” from the 1957 musical West Side Story. The final chords in “The Boathouse” are strikingly similar to the final high woodwind chords echoed by a low bass line in “Somewhere.” Bernstein also highlights clarinets throughout the musical, particularly to emphasize the vocals of the protagonist, Tony, while using flutes to underscore the voice of María, Tony’s love interest. Aside from the musical similarities, I think the thematic parallels between the story of Tony and María are worth mentioning as a source of musical inspiration for Robbins. A retelling of Romeo and Juliet set in 1950s New York, Bernstein’s West Side Story is a classic tragedy of an unconventional relationship that is unaccepted by society. Although not sharing in its tragic ending, Maurice definitely builds on the cultural trope of two star-crossed lovers desperate for an escape from a prejudiced society. Bernstein himself was gay, although he spent much of his career closeted, and West Side Story (particularly “Somewhere,” but also “One Hand, One Heart,” “Tonight,” and “Finale”) became emblematic of the struggles that gay couples face, especially with the popularity of musical theatre among American gay men. The lyrics (copied below, but I highly recommend finding the 1957 ballet version or the 1961 film version!) represent Maurice and Alec’s story beautifully, and the fact that Robbins was inspired by this piece of media that holds so much significance for queer people when composing the soundtrack for Maurice makes my gay little heart grow three sizes <3

There's a place for us, Somewhere a place for us. Peace and quiet and open air Wait for us, somewhere.

There's a time for us, Some day a time for us, Time together with time spare, Time to learn, time to care. Some day, Somewhere, We'll find a new way of living, We'll find a way of forgiving. Somewhere, Somewhere . . . There's a place for us, A time and place for us. Hold my hand and we're halfway there. Hold my hand and I'll take you there Somehow, Some day, Somewhere!

CLIVE AND ANNE

For Clive’s final scene, Robbins returns to piano and string instrumentation in the melody, representing a return to the traditional life that Clive now finds himself living with Anne. This variation on Clive’s signature melody, however, is significantly slowed down, almost to the tempo of a funeral march or dirge. As he shuts each of the windows, eventually stopping for a brief moment to reminisce on his time with Maurice, the melody grows increasingly loud and desperate as the high woodwinds are layered in. The sudden and dramatic development of this piece sound like a futile cry out for help, as Clive remains trapped in a prison of his own creation. The composition ends without a concluding chord, tense and unresolved. It’s fascinating to me that we can hear Robbins’ simultaneous resentment and pity for Clive—though the piece is deeply sorrowful, Robbins does not leave Clive with a satisfying ending, choosing to keep him suspended in the societal purgatory that he chose for himself.

END TITLES

Are you crying yet? No? I don’t believe you. Robbins establishes the ending to the story by building the piece off of a gentle, pastoral variation of Maurice’s low clarinet melody. The legato chords and balance of high and low instrumentation recall Robbins’ musical sampling of “Somewhere” before the melody shifts into a call-and-answer duet between the clarinet (alongside an oboe) and flute. Much like the clarinet and flute duet in “The Moonlit Night,” the two lines blend together—but in this final composition, Robbins has written the two parts as complementary, yet distinctly different, rather than imitations of one another or two segments of a single line. The melody becomes a conversation between two harmonizing entities who are sharing in the creation of something wholly new. The duet tapers off into an English horn solo over a harp line, bringing back the idyllic English countryside that we first saw young Maurice exploring in “Prologue – The Lesson.” In this final piece, Robbins adds on to this solo with the clarinet and flute before the melody spreads throughout the full orchestra and builds to a grandiose and rousing finale. I think the English horn solo is the part that breaks me every time because of its introduction in the very beginning of the story— through this understated melody, Robbins is assuring us that Maurice did stay true to himself, and he did find his happiness, though it may not be what Ducie or anyone else wanted for him. Maurice and Alec in the clarinet and flute, alongside the English horn, managed to find harmony in each other and peace in a life built on a love they shared, and nothing more.

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sgt-paul · 3 years

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Paul McCartney Is Still Trying to Figure Out Love – The New York Times Magazine

By David Marchese, Nov. 29, 2020

Paul McCartney, like the rest of us, this year found himself with an unexpected amount of time stuck indoors. Unlike the rest of us — or most of us, anyway — he used that time to record a new album. The pandemic-induced circumstances of its creation may mark “McCartney III” as an outlier in the former Beatle’s catalog, but as its title suggests, it does have precedents: Like “McCartney” (1970) and “McCartney II” (1980), the album, out Dec. 18, was primarily recorded by McCartney alone, with him playing nearly all the instruments and handling all the production. “At no point,” McCartney said, “did I think: I’m making an album. I’d better be serious. This was more like: You’re locked down. You can do whatever the hell you want.” Which was a gas, as always. “What I’m amazed with,” McCartney explained, “is that I’m not fed up with music. Because, strictly speaking, I should have gotten bored years ago.”

It seems to me that working on music by yourself, as you did on the new album, might allow for some insights about what you do and how you do it. So are there aspects of “McCartney III” that represent creative growth to you?

The idea of growing and adding more arrows to your bow is nice, but I’m not sure if I’m interested in it. The thing is, when I look back to “Yesterday,” which was written when I was 21 or something, there’s me talking like a 90-year-old: “Suddenly I’m not half the man I used to be.” Things like that and “Eleanor Rigby” have a kind of wisdom. You would naturally think, OK, as I get older I’m going to get deeper, but I’m not sure that’s true. I think it’s a fact of life that personalities don’t change much. Throughout your life, there you are.

Is there anything different about the nature of your musical gift today at 78 than in 1980 or 1970 or when you first started writing songs?

It’s the story that you’re telling. That changes. When I first said to John, “I’ve written a few songs,” they were simple. My first song was called “I Lost My Little Girl” — four chords. Then we went into the next phase of songwriting, which was talking to our fans. Those were songs like “Thank You Girl,” “Love Me Do,” “Please Please Me.” Then came a rich vein as we got more mature, with things like “Let It Be,” “The Long and Winding Road.” But basically I think it’s all the same, and you get lucky sometimes. Like, “Let It Be” came from a dream where my mother had said that phrase. “Yesterday” came from a dream of a melody. I’m a great believer in dreams. I’m a great rememberer of dreams.

What’s the last interesting dream you had?

Last night’s was pretty good.

What was it?

It was of a sexual nature, so I’m not sure it’s good for the Kids section. Pretty cool, though. Very interesting, dreams of a sexual nature when you’re married. Because your married head is in the dream saying: “Don’t do this. Don’t go here.” And just to let you know, I didn’t. It was still a good dream.

You know, I was conscious of not mentioning the Beatles early in this interview, and you’ve already mentioned them a few times. So let me ask you: The band broke up 50 years ago. You were in it for roughly 10 years. When you’re not doing interviews or playing concerts, how central to your own story of your life are those 10 years from half a century ago?

Very. It was a great group. That’s commonly acknowledged.

Generally speaking.

[Laughs.] It’s like your high school memories — those are my Beatles memories. This is the danger: At a dinner party, I am liable to tell stories about my life, and people already know them. I can see everyone stifling a yawn. But the Beatles are inescapable. My daughter Mary will send me a photo or a text a few times a week: “There you were on an advert” or “I heard you on the radio.” The thing that amazes me now, because of my venerable age, is that I will be with, like, one of New York’s finest dermatologists, and he will be a rabid Beatles fan. All of that amazes me. We were trying to get known, we were trying to do good work and we did it. So to me, it’s all happy memories.

“McCartney III” will come out very close to the 40th anniversary of John Lennon’s death. Has your processing of what happened to him changed over the years?

It’s difficult for me to think about. I rerun the scenario in my head. Very emotional. So much so that I can’t really think about it. It kind of implodes. What can you think about that besides anger, sorrow? Like any bereavement, the only way out is to remember how good it was with John. Because I can’t get over the senseless act. I can’t think about it. I’m sure it’s some form of denial. But denial is the only way that I can deal with it. Having said that, of course I do think about it, and it’s horrible. You do things to help yourself out of it. I did an interview with Sean, his son. That was nice — to talk about how cool John was and fill in little gaps in his knowledge. So it’s little things that I am able to do, but I know that none of them can get over the hill and make it OK. But you know, after he was killed, he was taken to Frank Campbell’s funeral parlor in New York. I’m often passing that. I never pass it without saying: “All right, John. Hi, John.”

And how about your perspective on the work you did together? Has that changed?

I always thought it was good. I still think it’s good. Sometimes I had to reassure him that it was good. I remember one time he said to me: “What are they going to think of me when I’m dead? Am I going to be remembered?” I felt like the older brother, even though he was older than me. I said: “John, listen to me. You are going to be so remembered. You are so [expletive] great that there’s no way that this disappears.” I guess that was a moment of insecurity on his part. He straightened me up on other occasions. It was a great collaboration. I can’t think of any better collaboration, and there have been millions. I feel very lucky. We happened upon each other in Liverpool through a friend of mine, Ivan Vaughan. Ivan said, “I think you’d like this mate of mine.” Everyone’s lives have magic, but that guy putting me and John together and then George getting on a bus — an awful lot of coincidences had to happen to make the Beatles.

People always ask you about John. I’ve noticed they rarely ask about George, who of course also died relatively young.

John is probably the one in the group you would remember, but the circumstances of his death were particularly harrowing. When you die horrifically, you’re remembered more. But I like your point, which is: What about George? I often think of George because he was my little buddy. I was thinking the other day of my hitchhiking bursts. This was before the Beatles. I suddenly was keen on hitchhiking, so I sold this idea to George and then John.

I know this memory. You and George hitchhiked to Paignton.

Yeah, Exeter and Paignton. We did that, and then I also hitchhiked with John. He and I got as far as Paris. What I was thinking about was — it’s interesting how I was the instigator. Neither of them came to me and said, “Should we go hitchhiking?” It was me, like, “I’ve got this great idea.”

Why is that interesting?

My theory is that attitude followed us into our recording career. Everyone was hanging out in the sticks, and I used to ring them up and say, “Guys, it’s time for an album.” Then we’d all come in, and they’d all be grumbling. “He’s making us work.” We used to laugh about it. So the same way I instigated the hitchhiking holidays, I would put forward ideas like, “It’s time to make an album.” I don’t remember Ringo, George or John ever ringing me up and saying that.

How strange is it to share an idle recollection from your youth, as you just did with that hitchhiking story, and then have the person to whom you’re sharing it — in this case, me — know the memory? It seems as though it would be weird.

It’s quite annoying, David. It’s like people at dinner yawning when I’m telling stories. This keeps happening to me.

I even know the details. You and George slept on the beach.

That’s right.

Some Salvation Army girls kept you warm.

Yes.

Then at some point you sat on a car battery and zapped your ass?

That was George who did that! I have a very clear recollection. He showed me the scar. Let’s set the record straight: It was George’s ass, and it was a burn the exact shape of a zip from his jeans.

Do you remember the last thing George said to you?

We said silly things. We were in New York before he went to Los Angeles to die, and they were silly but important to me. And, I think, important to him. We were sitting there, and I was holding his hand, and it occurred to me — I’ve never told this — I don’t want to hold George’s hand. You don’t hold your mate’s hands. I mean, we didn’t anyway. And I remember he was getting a bit annoyed at having to travel all the time — chasing a cure. He’d gone to Geneva to see what they could do. Then he came to a special clinic in New York to see what they could do. Then the thought was to go to L.A. and see what they could do. He was sort of getting a bit, “Can’t we just stay in one place?” And I said: “Yes, Speke Hall. Let’s go to Speke Hall.” That was one of the last things we said to each other, knowing that he would be the only person in the room who would know what Speke Hall was. You probably know what the hell it is.

Yep.

I can’t amaze you with anything! Anyway, the nice thing for me when I was holding George’s hands, he looked at me, and there was a smile.

How many good Beatles stories are there left to tell that haven’t been told?

There are millions. Sometimes the reason is that they’re too private, and I don’t want to go gossiping. But the main stories do get told and told again.

Can you think of one now that you haven’t told before?

Hmm. I will rake through the embers. Oh, I’ll tell you one! I thought of one this morning. It’s pretty good. I don’t think I’ve told it. You’re going to have to say in the article, “I forced this out of him,” because it’s a bit telling-out-of-school.

I am hereby twisting your arm.

So when we did the album “Abbey Road,” the photographer was set up and taking the pictures that ended up as the album cover. Linda was also there taking incidental pictures. She has some that are of us — I think it was all four of us — sitting on the steps of Abbey Road studios, taking a break from the session, and I’m in quite earnest conversation with John. This morning I thought, I remember why. John’s accountants had rung my accountants and said: “Someone’s got to tell John he’s got to fill in his tax returns. He’s not doing it.” So I was trying to say to him, “Listen, man, you’ve got to do this.” I was trying to give him the sensible advice on not getting busted for not doing your taxes. That’s why I looked so earnest. I don’t think I’ve told that story before.

Tax filings — that’s some deep arcana.

I have dredged the barrel.

I know that your goal with making music is to do something that pleases yourself. What’s most pleasing to you on the new album?

I’m very happy with “Women and Wives.” I’ve been reading a book about Lead Belly. I was looking at his life and thinking about the blues scene of that day. I love that tone of voice and energy and style. So I was sitting at my piano, and I’m thinking about Huddie Ledbetter, and I started noodling around in the key of D minor, and this thing came to me. “Hear me women and wives” — in a vocal tone like what I imagine a blues singer might make. I was taking clues from Lead Belly, from the universe, from blues. And why I’m pleased with it is because the lyrics are pretty good advice. It’s advice I wouldn’t mind getting myself.

There’s a song on “McCartney III,” “Pretty Boys,” that is kind of unusual for you in how the music is sort of unassuming but the lyrics have an almost sinister edge. What inspired that one?

I’ll tell you exactly. I’ve been photographed by many photographers through the years. And when you get down to London, doing sessions with people like David Bailey, they can get pretty energetic in the studio. It’s like “Blow-Up,” [the director Michelangelo Antonioni’s 1966 film thriller about a fashion photographer, thought to be loosely based on David Bailey] you know? “Give it to me! [Expletive] the lens!” And it’s like: “What? No, I’m not going to.” But I understand why they’re doing that. They’re that kind of artist. So you allow it. Certain photographers — they tend to be very good photographers, by the way — can be totally out of line in the studio. So “Pretty Boys” is about male models. And going around New York or London, you see the lines of bicycles for hire. It struck me that they’re like models, there to be used. It’s most unfortunate.

“Lavatory Lil” is another song I was curious about. That’s quite a title.

“Lavatory Lil” is a parody of someone I didn’t like. Someone I was working with who turned out to be a bit of a baddie. I thought things were great; it turned nasty. So I made up the character Lavatory Lil and remembered some of the things that had gone on and put them in the song. I don’t need to be more specific than that. I will never divulge who it was.

I have another bigger-picture question. In your experience, how is the love in a marriage different at different stages of your life and in different marriages?

I don’t think it’s different. It’s always a splendid puzzle. Even though I write love songs, I don’t think I know what’s going on. It would be great if it was smooth and wonderful all the time, but you get pockets of that, and sometimes it’s — you could be annoying. To Nancy I’m pretty complex, with everything I’ve been through.

In what ways?

I’m some poor working-class kid from Liverpool. I’ve done music all my life. I’ve had huge success, and people often try to do what I want, so you get a false feeling of omnipotence. All that together makes a complex person. We’re all complex. Well, maybe I’m more complex than other people because of coming from poverty.

And how do you think about money these days?

It has obviously changed. What has stayed the same is the central core. When I was in Liverpool as a kid, I used to listen to people’s conversations. I remember a couple of women going on about money: “Ah, me and my husband, we’re always arguing about money.” And I remember thinking very consciously, “OK, I’ll solve that; I will try to get money.” That set me off on the “Let’s not have too many problems with money” trail. What happened also was, not having much money, when anything came into the house, it was important. It was important when my weekly comic was delivered. Or my penpal — I had a penpal in Spain, Rodrigo — when his letter came through, that was a big event. When they had giveaways in comics with little trinkets, I kept them all. Some people would say that’s a hoarding instinct, but not having anything when I was a kid has stuck with me as far as money. You know, I’m kind of crazy. My wife is not. She knows you can get rid of things you don’t need.

You’re a hoarder?

I’m a keeper. If I go somewhere and I get whatever I bought in a nice bag, I will want to keep the bag. My rationale is that I might want to put my sandwiches in it tomorrow. Whereas Nancy says, “We’ll get another bag.” In that way, my attitude toward money hasn’t changed that much. It’s the same instinct to preserve. One of the great things now about money is what you can do with it. Family and friends, if they have any medical problem, I can just say, “I’ll help.” The nicest thing about having money is you can help people with it.

Something that has been a constant for you musically is your ability to keep coming up with melodies. It’s there on the new album — the melodies all flow. Is your facility for writing a catchy melody ever an obstacle to getting the songs to be more than just catchy? Because a good tune by itself is not always enough to make a good song. “Bip Bop” would be an example of that. Do you know what I’m saying?

No, I know. “Bip Bop” is not lyrically stunning. I was always embarrassed about that song. Literally, it goes, “Bip Bop / take your bottom dollar.” It’s inconsequential. But I mentioned that to a friend, a producer, a few years ago, and he said, “That’s my favorite song of yours.” So you don’t know what people like. It’s enough if I like it and enjoyed putting it on record and don’t particularly want to think of any more lyrics. I don’t want to sweat it. Sometimes maybe it would be better if I sweated it. Once or twice I tried to sweat it, and I hated it. It’s like, What are you doing this for?

Sixty-something years into writing songs, do you feel any closer to knowing where melodies come from?

No. There is something with my ability to write music that I don’t think I’m necessarily responsible for. It just seems to come easier to me — touch wood — than it does to some people. That’s it. I’m a fortunate man.

#paul mccartney #old paul #grandpaul #*m #(the start of the interview was pretty worrying (with him bringing up yesterday like after 5 seconds) but actually?#it turned out to be a decent one)#favourite bit hands down paul's dirty dreams. DUDE... he cannot keep it in his pants even when he is in his dreams #well actually he said he did but lmao #but yeah many other great bits. ''i'm a keeper'' ... loved that one #the complex man rant #and the john and george bits #him being the instigator #!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! i love this guy :)

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therappundit · 3 years

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Top 10 Rappers of 2020

The finish line of this long, surreal year is finally upon us...which means that it’s time for me to throw down the gauntlet in the ‘Best of 2020’ frivolous list race! 🙌

*Just to be clear*: this is a list of MCs who I believe turned in the best overall performances in 2020. ***This is NOT a list of the my top 10 favorite MCs***, or even who I believe to be the best MCs in the world at the moment...these are simply dope artists that put forth the strongest, most consistently interesting and important (to the genre) high-quality work in the perilous year that was 2020.

If you think your favorite MC was slighted....well, Michael Jordan is the greatest to ever play the game of basketball but even he didn’t win MVP every year, right? I encourage you to write your own list - it’s a cool way to dap artists that are too often overlooked by industry websites, and share the music you enjoy with others that may not have given the record a spin otherwise.

Even if 2020 didn’t bring you the “instant classic” you had been hoping for, I think it’s hard to deny that this year really had impressive depth when it came to showcasing some of the most diverse music that the genre has to offer. I can’t speak for music in general - sadly I’m just The Rap Pundit, not The Music Pundit - but I can say that it has been an impossible task to keep a playlist less than 500 songs deep at a time, because for every truly great release in 2020 there seemed to be 30 very good releases. 👌

So how did I come about these 10 MCs (and Honorable Mentions)? Before you get huffy about who I snubbed (and that is pointed directly at my jury of older head peers that consider themselves tastemakers, but also haven’t opened their minds up to any new takes on rap styles since the year 2000)...here are the five chief pieces of criteria that I put into finalizing my list:

- quality (whatever lane you’re in, how often did you ‘own it’?)

- quantity (at least 10 very good-to-great songs released, and 3-4 verses that stand out as a ‘must-hear’ for any rap music fan)

- consistency (not just 4-5 great features and a few forgettable solo tracks, will I want to keep at least 7 or 8 of your own new songs released in 2020 in my rotation for 2021?)

- impact (are you so vital to the type of rap music you make that if you stopped rapping tomorrow, there’s no one else in the game that could fill that void?)

- “it” factor (are you carried by a co-sign or an elite production team, or did you bring a style/talent to the table that could carry a record in and of itself?)

Got it? Then here we go...

1. Conway the Machine

I hope 2020 was the type of year that Conway the Machine had been hoping for since he first began his journey with rap music. After years of scraping and hustling towards music industry recognition (and not just cult figure status), at year’s end we see Griselda’s top Lieutenant holding down a rare balancing act: champion of underground hip-hop, and most requested feature by any mainstream rap star looking to add some tough-talking muscle to their album.

While much of Conway’s content has always been driven by surviving an attempt on his life in 2012, much like 50 Cent, Conway’s way with words and perspective manage to elevate the quality of his material to a higher tier than most. And where - at least in his heyday - 50 Cent benefited from an indestructible super-villain persona, Conway’s success can be greatly attributed to a larger-than-life heart. With every braggadocious act of gunplay, there are moments of gratefulness to still being alive to share success with his brethren, as well as a painful longing to be with close allies that are no longer with him (at least not in the physical form).

Above all else, in 2020 Conway the Machine did what he has always done throughout his career: delivered well written, passionate bars about coming up in an impossibly challenging environment and coping with loss...only now his craftsmanship and understanding of how to channel all of those feelings into a more polished final product have yielded the most well-rounded solo project of his career in From King to a God. Progress is a slow process, but the long and winding road has finally taken Conway a step closer to that G.O.A.T. status he will hopefully continue to reach for...

Best Evidence: FKTG, and a countless number of scene-stealing verses alongside rap acts ranging from deep underground to household names

2. Freddie Gibbs

I don't use the word "sauce" all too often (this may actually be the first time), but if there was any MC guaranteed to bring sauce to any rap record right now, it's Freddie Gibbs.

Forever existing somewhere between gritty gangsta and syrupy old soul, the flavor that Freddie brings to every verse is malleable enough to work on virtually any type of record, which was certainly proven in 2020. Anyone foresee a Gibbs & Alchemist Grammy nomination heading into 2020? It’s a testament to how high quality work, through consistent reliability and dues paid, can elevate a project from underground niche following to critical acclaim. While his work with Alchemist may not reach the lofty levels of his heralded collaborations with Madlib, Alfredo represents the best that “quarantine music” can offer...two talented friends saying one day, “hey we should finally drop a full tape together, why not?” - and then BOOM, it happens.

Too many fail to remember that Gibbs already has a long accomplished body of work behind him...so the fact that he may just be entering his prime now, is scary.

Best Evidence: Alfredo, Machinedrum’s “Kane Train”

3. Boldy James

Comeback MC of the year, and no it is not close (but big shout-out to Grafh, another dope MC who had an amazing year).

I'm old enough to remember when folks like Roc Marciano and Ka were seen as sleepy, monotone rappers with little hope of reaching permanent rap icon status (flash-forward to today, and they are widely consider geniuses). For some, the quieter, less hook-dependent approach to making rap songs, was....well, not great rap music. They were wrong then and they’re wrong now, but similar to how the coolest, smartest cat in the room is rarely the loudest, it can take some time and patience before everyone learns what’s what. Time is what is required to appreciate Detroit’s Boldy James, a veteran that has been through it - both in terms of the ups and downs of the music business, as well as the streets through which he draws his stories and inspiration.

Boldy makes it seem all too easy, rapping his verses with the cool, casual tone of telling old stories to a close friend over drinks. Dropping multiple projects (with one still to come) in one year can often lead to over-saturation. Even the most dedicated fans/stans can begin to feel less enthusiastic about new releases when they have already received a healthy portion of more of the same...but most rap fans are not necessarily Boldy James fans. Boldy fans (much like Roc Marciano and Ka fans) are already aware that knowing what type of material to expect from your favorite MC can be a blessing if that MC takes pride in the execution of the final product, rather than the noise leading up to it.

The beauty of his collaboration with The Alchemist (big year for that guy, huh?), The Price of Tea in China, is that it celebrates the more subtle nuances of boom-bap, proving that great MC and producer chemistry can trump the “shock & awe” of more uptempo rap music. The shock in Boldy James’ lyrics sits within the detailed descriptions of the cold world he grew up in...so monotone or not, how can any music could be more gripping than that?

Best Evidence: TPOTIC, Manger On McNichols, a long list of consistently perfect feature verses

4. 42 Dugg

I would say this is more of a longterm investment rather than the celebration of a rapper already within rap’s inner circle, but 42 Dugg didn’t just steal the show on every feature this year, he also displayed maturity in his ability to craft well-rounded, high quality rap singles. I’m talking joints that work just as well on the street tape level as they would at the radio level. That is especially rare to see from a rapper that is still relatively new to national conversations.

So much more than just a co-sign of Lil Baby and Yo Gotti, the Detroit eastsider has already proven that he can craft a full solo album with the swagger of a far more seasoned MC. 42 Dugg combines a Boosie-esque, "oh you think you’re better than me??” chip on his shoulder with the unpredictable bombast of Lil Wayne. What he may lack in punchlines he makes up for in musicianship, his voice bringing one of the most nimble touches to trap music that I have heard in a long time. 42 Dugg music is hard and soulful, with the natural hunger of a rapper that knows me might be one smash away from superstardom. By this time next year, I’m betting he will be.

Best Evidence: Young & Turnt 2 (Deluxe), features on high profile records like Lil Baby’s “Grace” and “We Paid”, and a growing stream of attention grabbing solo loosies

5. Rome Streetz

In 2020 it was almost impossible to be an underground MC with a great project unless you landed a Rome Streetz verse.

Rome has been bubbling for a while now, but in 2020 he unleashed an onslaught on the game. At times he seemed like the hardest working MC in underground circles, busting his ass to not only make as many appearances as possible, but also to own any song he guested on. He raps like every verse might be “the one” that gets him a huge contract, and that’s a level of hunger and consistency that will likely land him more than one huge contract someday. In spite of that laundry list of strong features, the young Brooklyn MC still managed to release multiple dope solo projects, all flashing a rap style that feels at once a throwback and the fresh voice NYC rap needs.

Rome is clearly from the same school as many of the New York City greats, because he has the capacity to deliver dark, potent bars with the sharp intellect of a Harvard lecture (think AZ before “Sugar Hill”). While he sounds most at home when he’s rhyming over instrumentals that run more coldblooded than a horror flick, it’s easy to picture him popping up in more places in 2021...if that’s even possible.

Best Evidence: Noise Kandy 4, Kontraband, The Residue, and at least 50 incredible features with a who’s-who of the underground’s finest

6. Stove God Cook$

No one saw this coming....well, maybe Roc Marciano, Lord Jamar, Busta Rhymes and a few more NYC heads in the know - but I guarantee you, no one else saw the Stove God coming!

Bar for bar, no MC owned more rewind-worthy rap quotables in 2020 than Stove God Cook$. Dropping a solo debut with VERY little fanfare and zero features (apart from the steady, reliable guidance of Roc Marciano - low key one of hip-hop’s most reliable producers), a slow bubbling word of mouth campaign on social media eventually got Stove God verses exposed to more and more high profile ears. Such a grass roots campaign is rarely seen...I mean, a rap album slowly becoming a critical darling simply off the strength of more and more random folks discovering the music and Tweeting about it, as opposed to the buzz being calculated before the product??? It feels almost too good to be true these days, as early reviews of Reasonable Drought typically lead with something along the lines of, “hey, have you heard of this album? I have no idea who this is, but it is 🔥🔥🔥”

It has often been said that Roc Marciano has a lot of “sons” in the game, implying that Roc Marci gave birth to a style that a whole generation of underground MCs run with today. So it’s ironic (or perhaps highly appropriate?) that the next level of progression for Roc might be to have a protege, a young Jedi to carry on the tradition on Roc’s own terms, and become the next new star to be embraced by the old heads. But Stove God isn’t a clone of Roc, or anyone else, he’s simply one of the most exciting artists to hit the NYC underground in a generation. Everything from his word choice, to his fresh references and sense of humor, to his delivery and the way he structures his verses, feels like a collection of “firsts”, there’s simply no one sounding like him. And if his work in 2020 is any indication, he will continue to be in a league of his own for years to come.

Best Evidence: Reasonable Drought, spotlight snatching features alongside Roc Marciano and Griselda’s finest

7. Lil Baby

Once viewed by some as just another “Lil”, Lil Baby had been rollin’ coming into 2020, but by the end of 2020 it’s clear that he has arrived at the forefront of rap music’s most reliable hitmakers right now.

A must-have feature on any rap album reaching for max exposure, Lil Baby’s dexterous flow, charisma, and pen that is significantly sharper than early reports indicated, made him one of the few shining stars in 2020 to consistently deliver good rap music to what in any other year would have been considered smash hits in any club.

What makes Lil Baby’s music standout is that he could easily be a “cookie cutter” MC, phoning in verse after verse just to get another check, but instead he continues to bring it - trying to squeeze in an extra catchy lyric, maybe flow in a way that breaks up a verse to make it stand out from the pack a little more - and even when he is featured over cookie cutter beats that sound like every other trap inspired beats that came before it, Baby seems eager to prove something. I think that’s what I like about him - he’s on a short list of mainstream-bred Young Thug disciples that seem to really want to put the work in to becoming one of the greats.

Best Evidence: I mean...did any rap star have more songs in circulation this year? Dude was everywhere, but “The Bigger Picture” got his name officially into the lyricist conversation (even though personally I don’t even think it’s one of his more impressive records - at least not stylistically)

8. Westside Gunn

No one denies that the Griselda Records team had a banner year, yet somehow the vocal leader of the group managed to drop a handful of dope projects without receiving credit for being a great MC in his own right. Great artist, great album curator, great business man - sure, but great MC?? That credit is rarely given to the FLYGOD. He might not even understand how natural he is as a solo MC, waxing unpredictable flows and half-bars that stick in your mind in place of catchy hooks or predictable song structure. He might call himself an artist first, but I still call him one of the most prolific rappers today (regardless of whether he retires after the ball drops).

I can’t believe I have to tell rap fans this in the year 2020...but......you all know that message and punchlines are just part of the art of rapping, right...and not the only thing that defines who is a dope MC and who isn’t?? Play any solo cut from Westside Gunn and filter out the “doot-doot-doots” and stream of conscious hooks and what you are left with is one of the most distinctive voices in rap music, attempting off-kilter flows and phrases over some of the most impressive production in rap music today, and to me that sounds like my kind of rap music. What the Buffalo floor general lacks in diversity of subject matter he makes up for with a relentless imagination.

That’s why it’s not all that surprising to me that Westside Gunn enjoyed more mainstream attention in 2020 than he ever has before. All he needed was a window of exposure and he certainly capitalized on it, pitching his sound and his vision in all the right places, without compromising his style or vacating his lane. So strictly as a MC, I would consider him the Young Thug of the east coast underground scene, and if 2020 does turn out to be his final year of recording solo projects, I am thankful that he already has a long list of quality projects with high replay value to revisit again and again. But don’t wait - give this man his flowers now.

Best Evidence: “Euro Step”, “Rebirth”, “327″, “Shawn vs. Flair”, “Michael Irvin”, and YES he even had a more than worthy verse on “$500 Ounces” alongside Freddie Gibbs and Roc Marciano

9. Benny the Butcher

Who else is more reliable to deliver a dope feature verse than Benny?

By now you must be muttering at least a few things about me, so let me just make two points: YES, I am a big fan of Griselda records, but NO I do not consider that an unreasonable bias because even on paper according to a large variety of sources, it’s clear that Conway, Boldy James, Westside Gunn and Benny are true specialists when it comes to the quality of the work they distribute. Its not a fluke or a trend, they’re just that good at what they do...I have been saying this for almost 5 years now, but in 2020 the rest of you sleepy heads finally just stopped hitting snooze.

Benny the Butcher already possesses the writing capacity, attention to detail, and skills of observation/personal reflection to put himself within special company as one of the nicest pens in the business today. But in 2020, he dialed things up even higher...or perhaps word of mouth just finally caught up with the rest of his peers? The tribute to the classic Roc-A-Fella era that was his Burden of Proof project with Hit-Boy helped expose Benny to a much larger audience, and it has been beautiful to see so many more folks quoting and sharing his lyrics on Twitter, because I recall when he had about the same amount of Followers that I do, because it wasn’t all that long ago (I just hope they go back to experience all of his prior work - I’m still partial to his incredible verses on “Shower Shoe Lords” and “Pissy Work”)!

In my not so humble opinion, I do think some of the more dramatic pomp and circumstance on the BOP album was more suited to a Rick Ross or Meek Mill than Benny, so I’m actually more excited to hear what Benny has in store for 2021. He truly sounds at his best over more minimalistic production that lets his lyrics fill the spotlight...but still, tracks like “Timeless” and “Legend” do remind me of some of my favorite moments from old JAY-Z albums...blasphemous, maybe, but true.

A shot to the leg last month seems to have done nothing to slow his momentum, so if you didn’t board the bandwagon by now, you are inexcusably late.

Best Evidence: Burden of Proof, mercilessly slaughtering every verse on every Griselda projects, and a ton of show-stealing features

10. Drakeo the Ruler

What a journey it's been for the L.A. rising star.

Flexing a penchant for placing local slang into his music and delivering dark verses with a clear sense of humor, it's easy to see the appeal of Drakeo's style. If Thank You For Using GTL was an inspiring attempt to do anything possible to keep his buzz going (in that case, recording his verses over a prison phone), the quick release of We Know The Truth shortly after he regained his freedom seems to have given him a 50 Cent-esque teflon aura at the moment.

But this is about more than just Drakeo himself, it’s about what he represented before incarceration, and what he represents now. As one of the more visible forces in a new generation of west coast hip-hop, Drakeo was a few key features away from exploding onto the national scene. Now after surviving his ordeal, likely with a great deal more to write about, his ceiling has only been raised - and along with his growth potential, so rises the potential for the current rap scene out in L.A. right now. Mark my words: by this time next year Drakeo’s flow will be one of the most flagrantly jacked flows in rap music coast to coast.

A sincere welcome home from the rap world, Drakeo the Ruler. Hopefully the worst is now behind you. 🙏

Best Evidence: We Know The Truth, Free Drakeo, Thank You For Using GTL

*Honorable Mentions*:

Che Noir, Ka, Ransom, Billy Woods, Royce Da 5′9″, Jay Electronica, Fly Anakin, Curren$y, Lil Uzi Vert, Roc Marciano, Skyzoo, Black Thought, Tee Grizzley, Your Old Droog, Flee Lord, Lil Wayne

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crybabysunflower · 4 years

Text

The song which reminds me of a Mystic Messenger character

Introduction

I have chosen this song based on how I have perceived this certain character from the otome game. I have chosen this song because the lyrics reminded me of him every time I listened to the song.

The character I have chosen for my blog is Kim Yoosung and the song which reminds me of him is Zombie by the South Korean punk pop band Day6 from their 2020 album, The Book of Us: The Demon

Before I write this blog I would give a trigger warning because it may have mentions of having suicidal thoughts so please read at your own risk.

The Lyrics

"What kind of day was yesterday

Was there anything special

I'm trying to remember

But nothing comes to my mind"

The lyrics above represents hopelessness and pessimism, the lyrics describes how the singer can't recall anything remotely positive happened to him on the previous day, he has been so used to the misery he has been dealing with. This reminds me of how Rika's "death" had severely affected Yoosung's life to the point that his life had come to a standstill, after that incident he had been waking up to face the same monotonous, miserable days which repeats over and over. He did not experience anything positive enough to affect him since the loss of his beloved cousin.

"Today goes by the same

Am I the only one struggling

How do I get through this

Would things get better

If I cry my heart out"

The first line of the lyrics again brings back our focus to the monotonous nature of the singer's life, just like the singer Yoosung too leads a monotonous, colourless life. Just like the lyrics mentioned above, Yoosung feels that he is the only one who is still not over grieving over his cousin since the other RFA members in his perception are seemingly doing well and are succesful in their careers while he is stuck in the past and wasting away his life. He is desperate to get over the never ending pain he had been feeling since the tragic incident due to which he finds comfort in playing video games which helps him to drown his sorrows but unfortunately it turns into a serious addiction and it actually does more harm to him than doing good. The last two lines also depicts the singer's strong desire to get over the heartache and thus he wonders if crying out loud would make his agony subside. This reminds me of how just like the singer Yoosung too had desired to cry out his pain several times, but he knows that it is futile since the rest of his friends are eventually going to invalidate his feelings in some way or the other.

"Yeah we live a life

Just running in circles day and night

Yeah we live a life

Though I try to change something

I cant seem to do anything

And I have got nothing left with me"

As the lyrics mentioned above Yoosung lives a life where he is just running in circles, he wakes up, goes to school (and can't pay attention to his lessons), comes back home, plays video games for the entire remaining day, and the cycle repeats. However he tries his best to change his situation, he joins various clubs in his school, the stitching club, the barista club and many more but, he quickly ends up losing interest in them and quitting them since they barely help him to cope up with his crippling depression. Just like the lyrics mentioned above, he found nothing to permanently get rid of his heartache. The last line reminds me of the void his cousin and role model Rika had left. After Rika's absence, there was no one for him to look up to, there was no one whom he would love to impress by performing well and finally there was no one to give him the type of emotional closure which he desperately craves for.

"I feel like I became a Zombie

With an empty heart and empty head

A scarecrow without a brain inside

Since when did I end up like this oh why"

Zombie is a person's corpse which continues to haunt the earth even after the actual demise of the person. Just like a zombie, Yoosung had been dead inside. He isn't living up to his fullest like he used to under Rika's guidance before, he is just surviving for the sake of it. A scarecrow is a term which is also used for describing a person in ragged clothes. Usually a person in ragged clothes is either not able to take care of themself and/or is not bothered about taking care of themself. In Yoosung's case, its both. He plays video games most of the time barely letting himself get a wink of sleep, he also does not give himself proper meals on time and happens to survive on convenient store foods and this is all because of his crippling depression which makes him hardly care about his own well being. Since he had been dealing with depression for quite a while and it has been a pretty long time since Rika's "demise" he can't recall for how long he had been persistently melancholic.

"I became a Zombie

I walk on drifting aimlessly

Tomorrow will be no different

I live counting the time

Till I close my eyes"

Initially Yoosung aimed to be a vet due to Rika's influence for which he worked hard to earn the top position in his class during his highschool years and he even joined one of the reknowned universities in the country with full scholarship, until the sudden disappearance of his cousin from his life. After her absence he had lost all of his sense of direction and aim in his life, he was no longer motivated to do well enough to accomplish his dreams. He had stopped expecting anything different would happen to him on the next day and is waiting for everything to end. The last lines reminds me of him in the Another Story routes. There it was very obvious that he had extremely dark thoughts where he wished to put and end to his sufferings (and thats why Zen kept him under his watchful eye to prevent the younger man from doing anything dangerous).

"Yeah we live a life

Eyes wide open in the dark

This meaningless life

Though I want to just let go

Though I want to just dream on

There is nothing I can do anymore"

The line "eyes wide open in the dark" can be used in the situation both literally and metaphorically at the same time. In the literal sense it reminds me of Yoosung's messed up sleep schedule where he barely sleeps at night. In the metaphorical sense it depicts that he can't see anything ahead of himself, except darkness, his eyes are wide open to see any possible beam of hope which he could not find at that moment. His future plans are luxury for him. When he sees the other RFA members, such as Jumin, Jaehee and Zen who are successful he desires to become as succesful as them. But whenever he dreams, he has this persistent thought that he will never be as successful as them, no matter whatever he does. That tragic incident had not only left him with crippling depression but also had shattered his self esteem.

"Get it all out, wanna cry

Let go of everything

Can I cry

Give me back my tears, they have run dry"

The lines above again depicts the desparate need to get over the crippling depression which is consuming the singer like a black hole. From the previous descriptions here, it is clear that in a similar fashion, Yoosung too is desparate to get over his sufferings. This reminds me of that one time when he told that he wants to cry so hard that he would blank out. He had already cried several times while grieving over Rika, yet he isn't satisfied.

Miscellaneous

I had also made a fanart on Yoosung based on this song because I was heavily inspired by the illustrated music videos I have seen of this song

Conclusion

I had been planning to make a lyric blog which would be related to a Mystic Messenger character. I am sorry that this took a very long time to come out. The only alibi I have to justify why I took so much of time is that, I was extremely nervous about it, I wanted to write a very good blog but I was not feeling confident enough about my project and hence I was extremely nervous about writing this blog. I an very glad for having instagram user @emilytheredone help me write this blog, she helped me to ease my nervousness over writing this blog. I am very thankful to her. Therefore, please let me know if this blog has turned out to be good.

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passionate-reply · 3 years

Video

youtube

This week on Great Albums, I finally do a video on one of my very favourite artists: Gary Numan! And I’ve started with a not-so-obvious choice, his second solo album, Telekon. What makes Telekon so great? Click and find out! Or read the full transcript, which is below the break.

Welcome to Passionate Reply, and welcome to Great Albums! Today, we’ll be talking about Gary Numan for the first time in this series, and most definitely not the last. Telekon, Numan’s second LP under his own name, is not a particularly obvious place to start tackling his enormous legacy, but I chose it partly for sentimental reasons: while I can no longer remember exactly what my first vinyl record purchase as a teenager was, there’s a solid chance it might have been this copy of Telekon. But, that aside, Telekon holds a pivotal spot in Numan’s discography, in that it’s basically the last entry in his very brief “imperial phase.”

Numan’s first major hit was, of course, the unforgettable “Are ‘Friends’ Electric?”, the main single off of his second album with Tubeway Army, 1979’s Replicas. Replicas was a bit patchy and stylistically diverse, a snapshot of the artist emerging from punk rock, and just starting to meld that with electronics and forge something new. Later in ‘79, Numan followed it up with something more cohesive: his arguable masterpiece, The Pleasure Principle. This album would pull no punches in its attempts to blast you onto your back with its synthesised screeches.

Music: “Films”

But, where to next? While all of Numan’s music is distinctively “him,” he’s also never been one to get too comfortable in any particular style. If The Pleasure Principle was Numan leaning into the punk side of Replicas, and tracks like “When the Machines Rock,” then Telekon represented a return to the dark and ominous atmosphere of tracks like “Down in the Park.”

Music: “The Aircrash Bureau”

While The Pleasure Principle had been defined by its buzzing, gritty walls of texture, Telekon tracks like “The Aircrash Bureau” emphasize eerie, whining synth lines, and create a sense of delicate frailty with traditional instruments like viola and piano. Where The Pleasure Principle strove for a busy and full sound, bordering on overwhelming, Telekon is bleak, hollow, and haunting. But aside from its sound, “The Aircrash Bureau” doesn’t necessarily push new conceptual and thematic ground for Numan, being narrated by the titular entity, a hopelessly mysterious force of death and chaos that seems to threaten us listeners. Equally gothic themes pervade the rest of Telekon, including its lone single and opening track, “This Wreckage.”

Music: “This Wreckage”

In 1980, Numan also released two other singles, “We Are Glass” and “I Die: You Die.” These standalone A-sides were clearly intended to be part of the “Telekon era,” as their sleeves prominently feature Numan in his iconic black-and-red leather jumpsuit, like the album does. They were initially absent from Telekon, though--at least, before some releases added them to the tracklisting. I like a big hook as much as anybody else, but I can still appreciate the commitment to ambiance and crawling, slow-burning song structures on Telekon proper. Thanks to the dominance of slower-paced material, the more strident moments feel well-earned--as on “Sleep By Windows,” the track usually cut for “I Die: You Die.”

Music: “Sleep By Windows”

While it’s easy to praise the artistic integrity of Numan’s aversion to including those singles, it was certainly a somewhat bold career move. But Numan was more or less on top of the world at this point--and he’d been hitting the top of the pop charts, with both Replicas and The Pleasure Principle becoming number one albums. If he was a bit cocky, that was understandable...and it ended up paying off for him in the end, at least this time, with Telekon also achieving that number one spot. But Telekon would prove to be Numan’s last LP to do so. While there’s never one clear reason why an artist falls out of the spotlight, it’s hard to listen to Telekon without coming away with the impression that Numan was a bit tired of his sudden and unexpected fame, which had swallowed him up when he was hardly a legal adult. “Remind Me to Smile” stands out as a track whose lyrics seem to embody Numan’s desire for relief from so much public scrutiny.

Music: “Remind Me to Smile”

“Remind Me to Smile”’s strikingly upbeat melody seems to embody the titular request, putting on a stilted facade of emotion despite the misery expressed in its lyrics. Numan’s diffident demeanour and social awkwardness, which he later learned to attribute to autism, undoubtedly made his life difficult. His personality also contributed to his perception by the masses as robotic or alien, almost as much as the futuristic themes of his art, grounded in his lifelong interest in science fiction. The much-beloved track “I Dream of Wires” is one of his most famous dystopian narratives, spinning the tale of an elderly electrician who’s lived to see himself become obsolete, in a high-tech world with no more use for his skills. With its chorus ambiguously referencing “new waves,” it’s tempting to interpret it as an expression of Numan’s own fears of the world of music continuing without him someday.

Music: “I Dream of Wires”

The cover of Telekon is dominated by this bold black and red colour scheme, its criss-crossed stripes evoking the straps of Numan’s aforementioned jumpsuit without actually portraying him wearing it. The artist’s disembodied head appears to be floating, with a sort of ghostly halo behind it, adding to the album’s spooky feel. Equally mysterious is the expression on Numan’s face: his head is slightly tilted, and his eyes seem to drift away from meeting our gaze as viewers, which might be read as a symptom of his characteristic shyness.

While the title “Telekon” doesn’t particularly mean anything on its own, it seems to be derived from the word “telecommunication,” and could be interpreted as an outgrowth of Numan’s established association with things technological. Telekon is often concerned with ways of communicating with others, as on “Remind Me to Smile.” Phone calls are prominently mentioned on several Telekon tracks, as well as the aforementioned single "I Die: You Die." “Please Push No More,” perhaps the album’s most desolate moment, is anchored by what seems to be a call from a telephone booth.

Music: “Please Push No More”

After Telekon, Numan made yet another bold move: embarking on a “Farewell Tour,” and declaring his intent to retire from giving his much-lauded live performances. However, he quickly reneged. His next two albums, 1981’s Dance and 1982’s I, Assassin, saw him vary his sound even more drastically, adopting influences from jazz and funk. They also saw him decline ever further in relevance and commercial viability. To this day, Telekon is usually considered the last truly great album Numan made for a long time. I’m not a huge fan of his early 80s followups myself, but I do think that they’re at least a bit unfairly maligned. I’d challenge the notion that their stylistic shakeups came “out of nowhere,” and point to Telekon’s increasing emphasis on groovy basslines as a hint of where Numan would decide to go next.

Music: “Music For Chameleons”

My favourite song from Telekon is its closer, “The Joy Circuit.” While Telekon has a lot of pretty dejected-sounding tracks, “The Joy Circuit” seems to send us off on a more cheerful note, with a dramatic finish bursting with violin and viola. It’s tempting to see it as a sunbeam, parting the gloomy, grey clouds of the rest of the album...but Numan doesn’t let us off the hook that easy. The final line of the song, and hence the entire album, is “all I find is a reason to die,” which is a hell of a way to close the book. With that, I have to end my video--thanks for watching!

Music: “The Joy Circuit”

#music #albums #great albums #album review #album reviews #gary numan

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jonghours · 4 years

Text

ATEEZ Diary album and AR photocards analysis

Finally got my albums and got to see what all these asks I got about the diary were asking me about so I’m going to go through all the entries and try to make sense out of them! I’ll theorize about the AR photocard bonus stories at the end, since they all take place after the events of the Diary Film and the entries on the diaries.

A INTRO: The time passing by, our dreams

This entry takes place after the Diary Film. It mostly describes the memories the members shared in their hideout.

“This is our onw space. Laughing, crying, arguing, dancing, and singing. A space where our dreams came together. Our hideout, our own world, separating us form the adult world”

I highlighted the word adult because the main point of this new series is how much ATEEZ want to hold onto their youth and dreams.

“Right now, it is a moment void of compromises and tameness. It is the moment before we opened that door”

That last line indicates this entry takes place after ATEEZ opened the door to a new world.

01 HONGJOONG: I don’t want to be forgotten as if I never existed

This entry gives us more insight about Hongjoong’s reason to join the group. As I wrote on my Diary Film analysis, all the members stories introduce the reasons that brought them together to pursue their dream: music. Back then Hongjoong’s was too subtle, but it becomes clearer here.

”Once I become a bright star that can be seen from everywhere, like those people on TV, will my family notice me? Even if it were by coincidence, I wish I could meet them at least once. If my family could come together like before... I miss the warmth of my living room”

It seems like Hongjoong’s family broke apart time before the events of the Diary take place. He’s definitley not an orphan, as he wishes to meet them once again. We don’t know why but Hongjoong’s family abandoned him and left it alone. It seems like Hongjoong’s motive to pursue music is to be an artist, and get noticed by his family in the hopes that they can get reunited once again.

“My family scattered around and here I am with my new family I made while living alone... [...] My family, the music I love, our dreams... We must keep them”

02 SEONGHWA: She, who was dancing to the beat

Seonghwa’s entry doens’t give us more insight into his story than what I already wrote about on the Diary Film analysis.

“She was moving as if nothing mattered anymore. Common sense, Rules, and this though world didn’t have power over her moves. Right this moment, my world broke around this snowy road”

Is it weird that I was interested in the snow? I know is probably just a minor detail, but I find it interesting that they added it since there was no snow in the Diary Film. I think it serves as way of putting everything in chronological order, since the weather is mentioned a lot on the diary entries.

“Ever since that day, I went to the same place at the same time. But, she never came back. I didn’t know her name or her address. Just like the “Be Free” bracelet she wore, she freed herself away [...] Since then, music never sounded the same again”

As I mentioned before, the Girl becomes a source of inspiration to Seonghwa, and he’s moved by what she represents. He wishes he could find her again and grasp that feeling, but the time never comes, because that’s what she ultimatley represents.

03 YUNHO: Weather is clear

Unlike the others (except Yeosang) this is literally a diary entry. I believe Yunho is writing this diary to communicate with his brother. Obviously not literally, but is a way for him to put the things he wants to say to him in order.

"Hey brother, you look like you are in such a good mood today! The weather is so good as well. Even though I was running to see you, I didn’t feel the heat. [...] It has been a while since I took out your broken guitar. I wanted to get rid of it because it always reminded me of a broken side of you. [...] I just left it out of sight because it seemed like you abandoned your dream”

As it was confirmed during Air Con, it was indeed Yunho’s brother who had an accident, and to me this sounds like Yunho’s brother abandoned his dream before that happened. Yunho seems to have hidden that guitar from him when he abandoned his dream and didn’t want him to see it again, but after he had the accident, he put it out again.

“I have a friend like you in my team. His name is Hongjoong. He is the kind of person I would go to when things get tough [...] I avoid thinking about these painful memories and instead I am focusing on the dreams you couldn’t achieve. I will make them happen; the boys and I will make them happen.”

As I theorized before, Yunho’s brother’s dream was related to music. Yunho even mentions doing street performances together at Han River. At some point his bother gave up, so Yunho wants to make it happen for him.

Also good news, Yunho’s bother isn’t dead!!

“When the time time comes, you must wake up from the long hibernation. I want to show you all of it! I’ll be back tomorrow. Good night!”

Yunho’s brother seems to be in a coma, so Yunho goes to visit him everyday. I think maybe the message Yunho receives is either related to the acccident, or might be bad news about his brother’s state. Both of those theories could trigger Yunho’s recalling of the accident. Still have no solid theory about Mingi.

04 YEOSANG: Just like a midsummer night’s dream

Yeosang’s diary entry gives a lot of new details about his personality, and I think maybe a clue about his role in the bigger picture. Also is important to note that the FEVER: Part One track “Dear Diary: 2017.07.29″ belongs to Yeosnag’s diary. The lyrics fit his writing prompt, and ahead there is a part that also fits the lyrics.

But going back to Yeosang, he has a very perfectly planned life, and the only thing he finds personal pleasure in is fixing things.

“I was never too good with mechanincs. It all started when I dismantled the speaker. Everytime I felt stuffy, I would disassemble various appliances or instruments and then reassemble them back together.”

I highlighted the speaker part because it reminded me of Jongho’s Diary scene. Probably nothing but I found it interesting.

Yeosnag must have been looking for things to break apart in the area where the hideout was, and that’s how he met the members, and that’s how he found a new love for music.

“My parents had everything planned for me: doing the same routine at the exact time. The only time I could go out of this cycle was when I disassembled and reassembled things. Thanks to this weird habit I met the guys. That day in that shabby warehouse a group of guys I’d normally run away from, asked me if I knew how to work a drone. This whole encounter was a little strange! [...] The sound of music is what brought me to that place. From that day on, I went everyday”

Now here is where this diary entry connects to the “Dear Diary” intro. The words in bold are the ones that are part of “Dear Diary”.

“For the first time, hearts pounding like it’s about to burst and this tingling feeling coming up from my fingertips started to take over me. Was there a moment when I wanted something this bad? One by one more kids started to say my name. The path that I slowly walked with one antoher person became a path to many. Slowly, the word ‘I’, became ‘ours’ (us)”

This makes it official that Yeosang is the owner of the diary being read in the album intro. Also, the person writing the english parts seems a little bit off with it at times, especially in the AR photocards. I think what it was meant to say at the end is “us”, not “our”, since they are the same word in Korean, so it might have slipped the translator.

Now, I believe this is very important. Because Yeosang was forced to give up on the boys because of his parents.

“Dancing was such a mind-blowin activity. Even if I saw my parent’s worried faces flashing before my eyes, I just could stop. [...] However now I must leave the ‘our’ (us). If I back out everything will be back to normal, the scattered members and the stolen hideout. I’m sorry, guys”

I wonder if this is why ATEEZ is trying to rescue the trapped Yeosang in Say My Name. Following the Inception concept theory, they might have entered Yeosang’s dream to try and rescue him, because as it was said before, Yeosang is a central piece to the story. Maybe it has something to do with his ability to build things?

05 SAN: I don’t know

Oh boy do I have some things to ask to San. This is by far the story that annoys me the most and is probably stupid but.... well you’ll see. His entry starts with him complaining about being unable to connect with people before having to leave them.

“[...] I’ve never had time to open up. Every time I got closer to someone, I had to move. It’s happening again today. But this time is a little different. Now I have friends to talk to about my feelings. As soon as I saw them, I knew right off the bat, they were like me”

“Oh, Seonghwa was a little different. He never tried to do anything the traditional way, he was always “HIS” way”

This is in capital letters, and I can’t help to think that the members who are mentioned by others give clues as to what “side” they are on later on in the story. The way he mentions Seonghwa like that but doens’t bring it up again, could fit in my theory that Seonghwa takes a bigger role in another part of the story.

“Can I just leave like that now that I have a place of my own... What should I say to Wooyoung? Thanks to him, thanks to my friends, I was able to perfect my dance moves”

Wooyoung is a very popular member in the story, as expected of the person that so far has been proved to be the most central member to the storyline.

And now..... let’s talk about that

“Bobo, what should I do? What? You want me to do it “MY” way?”

Now, who in the ever-living-hell is Bobo. It’s a given name, since he refers to them as “Bobo-yah”. And if you think it’s just a passing comment, sadly for me, it isn’t!!! just wait and look at his AR card later!!

06 MINGI: the sound of his laughter

Here we have someone else talking about Wooyoung. Honestly I was surprised people asked me about Woosan as a ship being important because San mentioned him once (1) but Mingi’s story is entirely dedicated to Wooyoung and his laugh and people decided to ignore it for the sake of their own narrative but ANYWAYS

“Music was my haven, my escape, my one and only relief. When I feel like dying, I listen to music”

“Only a few friends names you remember through elementary, middle and high school. [...] No one talked to me, but that is mainly because I didn’t answer if they try talking to me. But Wooyoung was different. Not that I remember [...] Wooyoung would always come next to me during every break. Whether I answer or not. He would go on with his stories [...] and that music team he works with outside of school. He always tops it with a signature smile of his, which naturally made me laugh. Out of shyness, I started calling him “Woo-ong. Ah that laugh of his. He was the first friend I opened up to”

So we have someone else who owes a lot to Wooyoung. I wonder if this is why we see Mingi breaking the chains that restrain Wooyoung during WONDERLAND. This will come back later.

“[...] It was around that time too when I followed him to the hideout for the first time; the place where I could dream. They were friends who took me as I am. They accepted me as who I am, regardless of where I live who my parents were. But now I’m getting scared, can I really have a dream? Will it not be taken away from me?”

This is Mingi doubting if he’s allowed to have dreams since he’s not in a position where he can allow himself to have such lavish dreams. And so the fight with Jongho happened.

07 WOOYOUNG: It’s different this time

I love how Wooyoung’s diary entries are subtle flexes.

“Will I fail again? When I was practicing and dancing alone, I was pretty confident! My practice video on social media has reached over 100.000 views. Many people contacted me and even big entertainment agencies offered me to audition for them. But once I felt their look towards me, I just couldn’t move [...] I closed my eyes trying to escape, and then Seonghwa’s voice popped in my head. I felt their presence even though they were nowhere to be seen”

This is probably what we saw on the Diary Film, different setting but definitely what is supposed to represent on those flahbacks. Once again Seonghwa seems to stand out among the other members when it comes to his way of doing things.

"I had a habit of overchatting to overcome stage fright and I practiced laughing to hide my shyness. It was a defense mechanism of mine to focus”

I just found this cute because it means he was nervous about Mingi back then.

“The firs time I met Hongjoong, Seonghwa and Yunho were at the street performance [...] When I danced with them I wasn’t self-conscious. My legs are tense. The first step, the step that I was never able to do, the chain that was trying my body, was magically released"

The chain thing again! I mentioned in my Inception post how it’s tied to WONDERLAND, at least definitley by the concept of Inception in on itself.

08. JONGHO: I had it all planned

Finally we find out why Jongho beat Mingi on the Diary Film! Here Jongho recalls how he felt after he was forced to give up on basketball, his first dream.

“I felt like I was drowning. No matter how hard I tried, I was still stuck in the exact same spot [...] everything inside me was lifeless, as good as being dead”

“That lifeless look, before Yunho grabbing my hand, looked so much like me. My hand is throbbing from the pain. Mingi clealry saw the fist coming his way but didn’t try to avoid it. His lifeless eyes are still haunting me. When Mingi said he would quit, that our dream was a luxury, and that the time we spent together meant nothing to him, I couldn’t stand but to punch him. Funny enough, it was a heart-brekaing moment for me but also the time I started dreaming again. At that time, I didn’t know how to reach out to a lost Mingi. Where are we, where should we go?”

So Mingi decided to give up on his dream because he felt giving up on it before it was stripped away from him by the tough reality of his situation, and so Jongho couldn’t stand it.

Z OUTRO: Into the New World

The title here proves how ahead the staff was with thin concept even before ATEEZ was created. If you remember, ATEEZ was going to be named “New World”, so this proves that this concept already existed even before the group was created. Now, just like the Diary Film, this is told from Hongjoong’s prespective again.

“Even though I lost my dream and my family again, there was nothing I could do. Everyone left and here I am, lost again”

He recalls how little by little, all the members drifted apart.

“On a summer day [...] we decided to go our separate ways”

Now I wonder if this, the day they went their separate ways, is the date on the diary, July 29, 2016. This could also be the date of the entry in Yeosnag’s diary, as well as the “Dear Diary” intro, which as we found out, is the day he decided to abandon them.

“All because our dream of being together have become like shackles that hold us down. The scorhcing sun melted away even our dream of youth and made it disappear [...] Even if, not often, the promises we made were pushed back day by day, and we forgot about each other. It was around that time when I began seeing him in my dreams”

“The man in the fedora [...] a somehow familiar, but tired eyes”

Now, this is supposed to be Hongjoong, even if he himself said he wasn’t aware it was supposed to be him.

“You lost your dream not because of the tough reality, but because you guys decided to. Get rid of the idea that the world you see is everything. There are many dimensions and many relaities in this world. The world I am in, the world you are in, are all real. I want to tell you everything, but I don’t have much time right now”

so HALAteez really seem to be on ATEEZ’s side. At least here, because during SMN, Hongjoong said their role was to stop Real ATEEZ. And now, the big reveal! Turns out the hourglass has a name, and it’s The Cromer.

“The Cromer. The key to connecting the world. [...] Follow your heart. The map is there”

That’s when HALAteez disappears, and we go back to the end of the Diary Film.

“I fell asleep in the hideout where no one was looking for me. [...] Wasn’t it a dream? While looking at the Cromer I inadvertently turned it around. The sand in the hourglass started to flow from bottom to top. The iron door then opened and I could hear the footsteps coming closer one by one. The guys then gathered around me with the smae puzzled face”

The highlighted parts are what the secret code in the ANSWER albums say.

Now, onto the AR photocards. As I said before, these take place in the future of the Diary Film events. (thank you so much to @honggers for helping me find them!!)

HONGJOONG

"Cromer... The treasure that made us dream again. The one who appeared in our dreams, and because of Cromer lying in front of my eyes when I woke up from my dream, I was able to protect the members. Though it was difficult and lonely at times, I was able to endure these days thanks to our members. Therefore, everything became all of mine and when the members began scattering away I had a heartache so painful I wanted to die. Though I might not know what lies ahead of me, the most important part of my life than this new world is our members who I cherish like family and continue to protect in our dream”

Okay so all the things highlighted in there make me think that this version of Hongjoong seems very intense. The members are all he has and this sounds like he would go as far as he could to keep them together. Could he go as far as to keep them in a dream against their will?

SEONGHWA

“Those who knew me would have never thought that I will be in this place. In fact, they can’t even imagine the existence of this place... I am.. No! We are here with fear and also, excitement. Each day was full of mystery. What will happen today? My knowledge about common sense, different logic and numbers faded away, just like the day I first saw her”

This is the first time “this place” is mentioned, which I’m pretty sure refers to either a diferent dimension or the illusion they have sunken themselves into.

YUNHO

"Brother how is everything? Can you see this place where I am at? I’m going to believe you are watching me. This place is unique yet fmailiar. In no doubt I can assure you that this place is not the same place you and I dreamt of. You can’t really hear the music here. In fact, I don’t see anyone here who feels happy about lsitening to music. So, we want to sing to the people here and of course with great choreography. Brother, I miss you.”

Now, Yunho is the first member that seems unhappy here. He misses his brother, he really wants to go back to him at some point. And also, this is not the dream Yunho had in mind, this is not the dream his brother had, which was his main reason to join the group. Maybe Yunho is having second thoughts.

YEOSANG

"Father, I’m walking on a path that I might never be able to return from again. I used to only walk on a clear and pretty path, where there’s not even a single peck of pebbles to be seen. But now, as I walk down an uneven path, my feet keep throbbing. Though my feet are killing me, my heart is in a state of tranquility. I feel like I’m free from your world. I am able to express this new freedom that I’ve never experienced before. Though I love you and mother, I wasn’t happy at all the in the world that you and mother were in. With my friends, I am now going to the place that I chose.”

Yeosnag seems very happy whenever they are, but the part in which he says “might never be able to return from again” might be a problem for other members.

SAN

“I laughed all the time because I never relaly got too close. Actually, I had to say farewell before I even got close. Then I met again. This is what the word “friend” meant to me. Therefore, the only friend that I can open up to was my friend Bobo, who was always there beside me. I’ve never been away so long with Bobo. I’m worried if Bobo is eating well or not... Hopefully, Bobo is worried about me as well. Hey Bobo, I am on a starnge journey with my first real friends. I’m not too sure how I am here or where I am but don’t worry too much. I will be back. I promise.”

Who the fuck is Bobo. Who the fuck is Bobo who thE FUCK!!

At first it didn’t seem that important but San’s whole AR photocard is dedicated to them!! And just like with Yunho, San is determined to come back for Bobo, so he too might have trouble with the “never coming back” part of the journey. I think Bobo might be a pet, or a doll, an imaginary friend (?) he did say “real friends” so...

MINGI

“I want this moment to last forever. The moment I had with my friends and being able to feel joy and happiness. I almost ruined it all. If I had not been here, I wouldn’t be able to get it back. No matter where this palce is, it doens’t matter what happens from now on.”

Another member who doens’t seem to want this to end, ever. I wouldn’t be surprised, since Mingi and Hongjoong get a lot of visual shots together.

WOOYOUNG

"Today was the day I was supposed to sign the contract. It was actaully a good oportunity that people would envy. It was a chance to debut in a big company and a success story in front of my eyes. But what’s the point of doing this, when I can’t go back. What if I can go back? Hmm... Let’s not think about it. Friends will mock me.”

Okay, first of all. Flex.

Second, this is what Wooyoung meant by “taking the easy way out” on his prompt, he could have had it easy, but instead chose the memebers. Also... Wooyoung what are you thinking? Does he know about the Cromer? He said “friends will mock me” so does that mean he knew about a way of coming back before even Hongjoong was offered the Cromer? After all, Wooyoung is carrying the Cromer during ANSWER, and he seems to be attached to it. Once again, Wooyoung is a central piece of the story, but he’s teasing us once again.

JONGHO

"An empty court, basketball, teammates, everything during my teens. I saw myself when I gave up all this through the loneliness look in Mingi’s eyes. At that time, my eyes would have been the same. I wanted to talk to him. Don’t give up, and I’m sorry. I came here all of a sudden without even be able to talk to him. My heart aches more when Mingi showed his kindness towards me as if nothing happened”

So Jongho and Mingi are back to being friends. The girls aren’t fighting anymore. There is peace.

THE MAN WITH THE BLACK FEDORA

“What’s the point of keeping these dreams when we have to give up things that matter?” “Is this that worth even where I have to let go of myself?” Whatever the answer is, it is your own decision”

I believe these questions are being asked by either Hongjoong or the members. They have to give up not only their lives, but it seems that they have to give up a part of themselves. Could that be when their lyrics wonder about who or where they are, or if anyhting is real at all?

#ateez #my hands hurt someone please read this lmao #ateez theory

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