Saturday, 31 May 2014

Saints Preserve Us 2

“Hey dad, you think John celebrated blow job day at a gay bar, then?” Alex makes me snap out of my coma as I look at the presidential candidate wondering how the fuck do I tell him to get out of Grindr. It’s odd when you discover what people actually do in the privacy of the bedroom, it’s not even that I don’t want to know, it’s more of because well, myself as well, try to censor sex so badly that once it’s mentioned we are all like nine year olds, thinking that it’s the latest drug to try on the streets. Only much less harm, supposedly. 

“What?” I don’t even raise my eyes as I keep looking at his profile, trying to believe that it’s not him with the frizzy curly hair. I even maximize to make sure it’s the next president’s damn face. 

“It was international blow job day, yesterday, dad. So-” Alex decides to explain himself in much more detail, which I clearly seem to lack, I glare softly at him. 

“I’d rather if his wife did it for the sake of his own election.” I mutter. 

"I’m sure you celebrated it with Miles, then." I smirk, adding, not thinking as I try to get my eyes off grindr and I flirt with the idea who else is not concerned about their career. Or who else is with him in this rendezvous with bears and otters and all of mother nature’s strip clubs. 
"Yeah, he congratulated as well." Al makes a click with his tongue and I just glance at him before wincing at the information. "We did it at the same time."
"Fuck, don’t go into details. I really didn’t fuck your mother standing to conceive you for this." I smirk, closing my eyes laughing, too much information even not allowing me to show my full disgust of knowing my son’s sex life. 
"That’s disturbing. I’m not interested, dad."
"I wasn’t inviting you. But trust me, neither of us are as disturbing as…" I flick through a few photos until I find the gold. Literally a photo of John from behind naked. "This."
"Miles had a similar one." Ok, I’m not just wounded, but killed, I glance at Alex’s smirking face and roll my eyes. I need to take the crown. I need to handle the affairs within the family, not just outside the country which is literally me saying how much I hate everyone while eating crackers. 
"One more and I will tell you in graphic detail me and your mothers sex life." Not that ours is too colourful but he doesn’t have to know. I grab a drink as we walk in. To cure anxiety before my speech and I wish I smoked more in a row. I can’t help but keep glancing at John and he notices me. I also have Alex’s iPhone in hand.


“Y’know, maybe I do want Gillis to win. He’s kinda hot.” Alex can’t stop his underground smirking festival and I just shove the iPhone in his hands as John seems to wave off someone who I can’t recall who heads off to Liam. 

“Turn Grindr the fuck off.” I quickly hiss at Alex who mouths a ‘no’. In his eyes since John has grindr on, why shouldn’t he and I see his logic as the candidate approaches us and I happen to know his sexual preferences and how he is looking for a young athletic top. My eyes cringe even before he says hi and Alex seems to check him out. I just widen my smile like I do when I actually don’t think we’ll make it out of some crisis where everyone hates us. 

Depression swells me, as I realize how many idiots seem to pollute the party and I seem to be regretting the decision, but I guess Josh was right, your life is still the same, you don’t change wives or children, you go on, strolling, just with much more money. 

“Heterosexuality is a social construct we must pursue, then.” For some reason springs to my mind as I still see Brian and me on the balcony as we seemed to be stuck in time, back in college, still musing on how would life unravel itself, that I’d have to take dad’s business and keep expanding until Josh offered me to join politics. It’s funny to think he had said it, mockingly, the break up only building its sourness later, months later and even years as his face would still be with me, something had shut down in me, until I had met Kate and even then it wasn’t a gracious dance like it had been with Brian, Kate just reminding me how to let myself loose and soon enough we both found ourselves with a child, exhausted, my wife’s make up smudged and now holding Alex’s mouth from coming out of the closet, which could damage the ideology I hold for the people of America. 

“James, good to see you, again.” John smiles and shakes my hand, as I am a bit too out of it as I glance at his dark eyes, my eyes undressing him not due to attraction but because I’ve seen too much and I feel a bit distubed of knowing how he looks naked, then I watch him shake Alex’s hand and as soon as he opens his mouth.

“My son, Alex.” John nods, smiling. He seems very picture perfect someone who you wouldn’t imagine with a whip at all or someone who would risk blowing their cover, but maybe that’s the one you think would do it, the less likely one to commit murder as I can’t help but keep looking at his neat hair, his dark tie which seems to match his eyes. 

“Sorry, I didn’t have time to talk to you properly before. We should really meet up and get to know each other better, since we’ve got this election in the bag.” John continues smiling as Alex keeps a smirk on his face, muttering ‘erection in the bag’ under his breath, which the next president seems to be oblivious to his face and words and he just lets out a small noise, something like a satisfied giggle and I try to ignore it. Alex just nudges me lightly with his foot. “But from what I’ve heard we’ll make a great team.”

“Sure you will.” Alex mutters under his breath, already back on Grindr. John raises his eyebrows, not catching Alex’s pun as I wave it off, already wondering how big would the scandal be if someone actually realizes who Jack White is on Grindr, how do people get through with this? Wouldn’t their glass ideology fall and then they wouldn’t vote for us, nagging that we had betrayed Jesus and maybe then Liam would run for president since whenever you go down, you have to choose the most appealing conservative and Liam’s idelogy seems to be attractive to most of the population which like us lie to everyone about their sex life, not matter if they have it or not, we always hide it, as if there is too much or too little sex to share. And since Casablancas appeared with a typewriter, typing that he approves of this message on the last elections, we don’t seem too favourable anymore. 

“Would you like to come tomorrow for dinner to discuss the campaign because we decided that we should have everyone in our ad do something like an American would.” Alex holds his hand over his mouth and I’m positive he wants to say like Americans fuck, but he decides to keep silent as I glare at him and John just watches us, amused. 

“We’re not having Julian with a typewriter again, are we?” I say before I even hold myself and John starts laughing as Alex starts messaging random politicians. I notice Doherty nod at me very slowly. I quickly glance at my son, who seems to be discussing something. 

“Oh, no, no, that backfired. No innovations, I’ll be speaking straight into the camera.” Alex gives a smirk at the word straight, I don’t hold and grab his phone, smiling at Jack as I see the conversation closed and my own name and a dreadful photo of me in trainers as the profile pic.

I got three messages.

“Excuse me.” And I harshly grab Alex by the shoulder, my hands shaking as I yank him out of the building and throw the phone in his hands, past a bunch of men who might just end up being in the coffee app or musing on the seeings of Jesus as told by Liam. Josh gives me a brief wave, as he drinks water, but I ignore him. 

“I’m not gay and I’m surely not fucking interested in fucking Pete Doherty, who ended up in a cocaine scandal last month!” I actually yell at him, as I see a few men exit the building and I just get a pack of cigarettes, Alex grabbing one as well, before I even mention anything. I don’t bother to mask my voice, since apparently everyone here seems to be on grindr, by the looks of it. 

“Whatever, dad, I’ll message Mr. Jack here. You seem to be an athletic top...” He eyes me from head to toe. “Or just work out a bit.” 

“That should fly.” I don’t reply anything, continuing smoking before John ends up opening the door, smiling at us. I try to avoid his interested stare at me. He taps his iPhone, as Alex turns around, shoulders shaking. 

“Sorry... I should’ve been more clear.” He leans to whisper in my ear. “I am inviting you.”

I bite my lip until it bleeds. I don’t open my mouth to make sure my teeth don’t have traces of blood in them and I’m more than pale for sure. I can’t decline, that would mean engaging in why and my whole mouth seems to be metallic, as if my tongue had been poked by a blade a few numerous times. I just nod, forcing a smile, as Alex just doesn’t even laugh anymore, he seems to be enjoying himself awfully, as John just grabs my shoulder, squeezes it and holds my gaze for a while. He’s much taller and it’s not that his height or preference for men scares me, it’s his attraction to my fucking disastrous photo of me in trainers, because Kate thought it to be fashionable, attracts him or his belief that I seem to be interested. 

I don’t think we’ll be discussing politics. 

The rest of the evening is uneventful, John texting me to meet him tomorrow night, that we’d be alone and I just continue seeing Alex, as we get driven back, on Grindr, until I don’t hold and I scroll through the few messages which seem John asking for nudes, which Alex, thankfully declined with not the best of lines, implying that he’d get to see everything soon. I take off my suit, running hands through my hair, not bothering, as I loosen my tie and Alex just watches me. 

“You need intimacy with the next president of the United States, dad.” And he continues laughing. I watch him, smirking lightly, because I’m sure I’ve done that if I had the chance to my dad, but I was too concerned about my own problems and acceptance and trying to understand what should I do with life. I keep looking at him, as he exists Grindr eventually, cooling off his own joke, as I close my eyes, trying to keep John away from my thoughts, at least for now. It was around this age, that I kissed Brian. The memory crashes upon me with Brian’s chapped lips covered in red lipstick, as I had hurled him on top of my bed, locking, pinning him down, making sure he wouldn’t make a noise. 

I light a cigarette, Alex now letting me to myself, as we slowly reach home and Kate greets us with Archie ballistically jumping on both of us, as I keep my silence, Kate concerned with Alex’s rendez-vouz with Miles later tonight. I watch all three of them for a while, before I just push the door open to head in, not even Archie following me. 

I close myself in the office, closing my eyes as I rest on the sofa, forgetting that Kate had refurnished the room last month, so it still seems new to the eye, as I just sit there for quite a while, making sure that my appearance is surely after Kate’s bed time. 

The anticipation for tomorrow is far too odd, I haven’t been on a date with a man for a while, I sigh, recalling my talk with Kate many years ago, how she wouldn’t mind still seeing women, both of us not too thrilled with the idea of marrying, but each other seemed like something tolerating and we agreed to speak of if someone worthy appeared and years passed and our toleration just got better and Kate seemed to enjoy the life she had with me, she was pleased, not content, sometimes muttering things and we both had an affair with my secretary, who I ended up firing, because nothing seemed to be going anywhere.

Kate still sees her from while to while, as Alison would just glance at me, I ended up hiring her again and we still have some coldness among us, Alison’s confusion only being thrown into the pool as our own. 

I start recalling Brian briefly how I had walked from college, my lip bruised and split open, blood already staining my shirt from the trail on my neck, as I had stared at myself in the mirror, observing the bruised lip after the fight I had gotten in with whoever had called me and Brian fags during the brief period where we had decided to make out in front of one of the buildings and then we had both been hurled against the walls, in warning, but later that day I was the one pushed against a wall and pushed, I had managed to redeem myself and I hope had broken that person’s nose, but I had tripped while kicking him on the floor, only to stand up to be punched and have my lip split open, a coda to the fight, as I had went back to the dormitories, suit in hand, all body shaking

to see myself in the mirror with naked fear

and soon enough me and Brian would stop dating, so visibility was no longer an issue.

I close my eyes shut, telling Alex to talk to me tomorrow unless urgent when he knocked and eventually he left, music slowly playing from his headphones. 

I check my watch, still displeased with the time as I just open my laptop, wondering what else could be leaked of John, nothing on google and seems to be likely that he would cover up anything else. 

Confusion and some slight desire for the past seem to wash over me. 

It wasn’t the fall of innocence, it was fall of oneself, the fall of love really. He’d go through and forth in my mind, year after year, like a flower I was manually dismantling the petals, hoping that the memory would go ugly somehow. That all had collapsed on the night of dad’s death, as he had found out about Brian, I had known that I’d inherit the business but he kept yelling that someone as impure to touch another man would never be able to be a human being,

it’s metaphorical that when I recall his words I still see myself in that mirror, as if I would be banging against it, hoping that on the other side of my reflection there would be something else, if everything would be turned around, that there wouldn’t be any homophobia and I stopped caring if it wasn’t even me on the other side of the reflection, that I would change, I didn’t care-

I just wanted out.

Words strike you, even if you can’t recall them sometimes and I had met Kate then, who I had known slept with women and she had smiled at me, I wasn’t as shallow to say that she was good-looking, but we got along, she heard about how I had inherited, that I’d have to take over the business and she was fascinated by it, even if people thought that the golf club would just collapse, it was quite small even if it afforded the life of the entire family in quite a good way, it was still a local club. She was adorable and she could hold a conversation, either read or be about to read the books I’ve read.

We tagged along for a good while, becoming really close friends, Kate sore from her last break up and we seemed to be very refreshing to each other and soon enough, the idea since we got along and it had been a year, I was slowly bringing the business somewhere, graduation nearly behind, I had kissed her, it wasn’t fireworks, it was a mix of confusion, yet I still adored her, how she resembled a pixie with her blonde dyed hair and obsession with fashion, how she seemed to always check on me and soon enough we got our own place. 

It’s not that we’ve even had ups and downs, sometimes we’d just distance ourselves from each other and ended up getting old in our own ways. Kate had embraced the life of a Republican wife and I still struggled, she disagreed with nearly everything, but she enjoyed the conventions, the bored wives as she’d still fight to teeth and bone on outfits and sometimes I’d wonder if she’d mean it and by the end of the day, she did, but she was enjoying herself and we seemed to love each other, just not in the way you’d ever want to be loved. 


And this ended up being 3k xD it was a bit over 2k and I wanted to write more so I kept it and this is what happened xD 

I started writing it back on blow job day as I was informed of it's existence and I ended up chucking it here first before Fellatio (the milex story which is very graphic xD) and yeah xD 

I dunno I kept discussing it with Callie how much I love Jamie's and Alex's relationship because usually I end up shipping them one way or another and that's usual their bond rather than a family bond, so I quite enjoy that and their whole jokes and puns xD 

And originally I was wondering if I should just do Jamie as someone whose first attraction to men would unravel in the story, but it ended up being unrealistic in my eyes for Jamie in this case and in general I've been musing a lot about Jamie and Brian, so he was chucked into this story and as usual they had broken up by the beginning of it, not that he wouldn't come back though xD I dunno, I'll see xD

The erection joke came after that paragraph was written actually xD please forgive me for I am very sleepy at the moment xD I don't know what to comment, I find it funny and I hope other people too, since this is the second chapter, so you've put up with my humor so yeah xD

The image of Jamie looking at his bruised lip seemed to stick to me and I was thinking to stick it in Canteen, but I ended up taking it here and it just seemed like a strong lingering image of a younger Jamie. The whole idea with the mirror is inspired by a paragraph I had written for Blue/Jacket regarding being trans and I just applied it to Jamie's situation, because being queer in gender or sexuality is fucking hard and sometimes you wonder why does society struggle so much to accept.

And I quite love Kate here and in general I love Kate and I always call her a pixie in conversation with Callie, so I used that because dunno I just always liked her and I'm sad that the topshop collection is ridiculously pricey and the quality isn't too good either, as we've got pretty much nearly item of clothing here in Sweden in Topshop for ridiculously even higher prices. Oh, well, I'll be waiting for the colored mascara. I just can't stand people who do nothing, so I'm quite happy that Kate is designing a bunch of stuff, coz she's really cool and I've been a fan since… she dated Pete? And yeah funnily enough I didn't like Jamie when she just started dating him and I was sulking wishing for her to reconcile with Pete xD

I hope you enjoyed it and if you did please tell me so:3



Thursday, 29 May 2014

Blue/Jacket 3

I can’t help but look at his chilly state and how much of a contrast our attires our, our appearance in general is quite contradicting, even if our height is close to each other, we still seem like a broken reflection, two sides of a card. We keep walking and he doesn’t go deep into Gamla Stan, walking faster, now the pick and mix gone, either smiling at me softly, observing or asking me about what jobs do I do and I just feel myself start blacking out, wondering what does he even want of me, as I observe the paradox of entity. I feel odd as if all my life, all my dreams were leading up to the moment and even with shuffling a bunch of cards and being fortune told by different people he would show up, sometimes the fortunes told would be wonky, never done by people who knew what they were doing, but he would show up. I can’t help but keep staring at him up to the point that it’s even impolite.

Is he too airy for me?

Is he the one?

Are we supposed to shag and I just feel insecure and dysphoric about my body, but he doesn’t seem to be showing much interest, just some polite curiosity. 

“So... what bands are you into?” He asks for the third time after I ask him to repeat his question, as he actually zips his jacket for once, when it’s actually not that chilly and I look at his black boots. I wish I could pull mine off as well as he does. I scratch my head. We should have similar music taste. 

“The Jam?”

“Oh, I like the Strokes and 50 Cent.” I don’t think I want my dreams to come true. I just look away, I know I’m kidding. It’s aligned and I think I pretty much want it and it seems to be the blood within me, which I pump in and out of my heart. 

I think I’ve started the affair in my head already by the time he kept coming back in the dreams, already acknowledging my age and by seeing him still airheaded from myself gives me confusion. But doubt still seems to linger as I realize that we both know close to nothing of each other and he surely knows nothing of what I believe seems to be wrapped as faith in fate. I still can’t seem to keep staring at him, my cheeks warming up and too many doubts in my head, that I’ve still got a long way to go for surgery and I’m not entirely flat with my binder, that my hands are still small, my face shape isn’t the best and pretty much I’m only thankful for my voice already being deep as given and some facial hair which I pompously shave in the morning. It was odd to do for the first time, pressing the razor against the skin, a daily task which seemed to be not mine was now in my hands and shaving off something I want to grow. It’s an odd metaphor, killing off something you want.

And it’s surely not Alex I want to kill off.

I’m sure he wants more pick and mix as he slows near the 7/11. 

And he walks in, as I see that he has a bunch of quirks which I seem to have been tied in at the present as well, meaning I get to see him choose all the sour pieces all over again as he just walks in circles around the small section.

Do I want to be with a person who just bought a kilo of pick and mix?

But what is fate? Is it walking up to a person and saying that I’ve dreamt of him and his jacket? And where do I fit in? I’m sure he has friends and he is friends with doctors and I’m sure he’s taken anyway. I don’t even know if he’s gay or interested in men, actually, I don’t know if he’s transphobic, but then he never said anything and he doesn’t seem to mind me as we head out and I quickly buy a coke, annoyed at the price which is pretty much the same to a litre bottle of coke in ICA. He offers me it again, as we slowly make our way out of the old streets, past an English bookstore with a poster of Kerouac hugging someone else, but I don’t pay much attention, instead staring at the BUY THE GUARDIAN HERE sign, but I just walk past with Alex, who seems to look up and see the lights which still seemed to be hinting out Christmas, but they’re still pretty so they don’t seem to bother him. 

I can’t help but frown at the side and I don’t understand why would people hang onto something which forced them out, but instead I see a guy walk out, said Guardian under his arm, and smile briefly, looking at my companion. He’s much shorter than us and his skin is also a few shades darker, evidence of some long tan and he walks up to him, a dark blue coat which seems to stick out even here. 

“Hey, Al.” And he stretches a packet of cigarettes as the nurse takes one and the man’s attention is shifted towards me, as Alex greets him. He keeps looking at me, a bit too intimately and he glances at my chest, which is fucking well binded and my coat is over it, so I do give out a flat impression and I just stick my head closer to my scarf as he just shrugs and inhales, glancing back at Al.

“I’m Miles.” I say, causing both of them to glance at me and I just want to slap my gender before anything else is presumed and Alex just smiles, lightly, the other man lighting his cigarette as his dark eyes are still looking at me, not a glare, but something far too untrustworthy seems to be glued to my forehead which causes him concern. 

“Jamie.” The man says and looks down at his cigarette. I could nag about his gender neutral name, but I don’t, a bit too used of throwing back “compliments” at people who seem to think that something is wrong with me, so I point them out that maybe something about them is just as queer as I am. I feel a bit insecure as I look at him cleanly shaved and hair clearly styled and the coat, which seems a bit too much of a female fit, but he seems to be comfortable in his own shoes, while he catches me on the fact, that I don’t. 

We both take a side from Alex, as he seems to be the middle ground, as we start walking already out, the bridges in sight and soon enough the train station. We all keep our silence. 

“Miles, this is...”

“I’m Alex’s ex.” He interrupts bitterly, his heavy gaze now on Alex, who just starts searching his jacket pockets for the train ticket, as we all swiftly follow and I feel the blood in my ears pulsing.

He’s into men. 

Alex is into men.

But would he count me as one?

I feel myself grow cold and even shiver lightly as I wrap the gray scarf tighter around me, wishing I still thought it was cold enough to bring gloves. 

And Jamie is into men, as well.

It feels unsettling to see him with the Guardian, which is later passed onto me, like a muffler as he whispers something into Alex’s ear, his eyes still holding a cold stare, as if he’s with a hammer trying to shatter my wall to reveal me naked, but he sees me already and in the train I end up flicking it over, trying to block my mind with one poison to the other, as I flick through pages, which speak of different things and I keep flicking, my throat clogging up and I see people like me, graze the pages, an outbreak of transphobia and it feels like some sad irony to remind myself of how much I’m not wanted back home and I try to clog up memories of traveling to different small art stores and before leaving, how weird it felt not having a student ID anymore.

Jamie keeps looking at me, unbuttoning his coat, glancing at Alex who keeps looking at the darkness behind the windows. 

I look up to drop up at our Slutstation, which literally means last station and once we jump off, a man takes off his hat, mocking and I just see Jamie rolls his eyes as Alex smirks, as if all three have held hands once to realize that neither of them were lovers to the other and once I glance at the new man’s dark eyes something dark seems to yank me, like the hidden crack in the deja vu and I hear the noise of a train and I turn around to hear nothing.

Alex is into men.

The new man now exchanges cigarettes with the other three and I wonder if there is some hidden catch, behind the three, but no deja vu feeling came with Jamie who once I glance harshly exhales his smoke, throwing his arm around the new man, kissing his cheek as Alex awkwardly shuffles his feet and they all turn, as if torn to the escalator. 


Sorry, I've had this written for quite a while and I'm finishing the next chapter actually xD and it's nice to be in Stockholm where the story is set, it's good to be back XD and I can walk around, like today me and Callie passed the 7/11 where Al bought the pick and mix again xD 

I didn't post it because I figured that the prologue should really show Jamie, Alex and Jack better and yeah I wanted to post the first chapter of it as well :D 

Well, I fortune tell and I've been fortune told and it's weird to know what awaits you, yet soothing so yeah Miles confusion is quite understandable xD 

Originally Miles was going to meet Jamie and Jack in Alex's apartment but the idea was shifted. 

The bookstore doesn't have anything really and yeah, it exists and has a section dedicated to the Beats which is lovely though:) and the poster exists xD and the fact that they sell the Guardian, which I guess for me sticks out as someone who lived in the UK would want to buy and read, frankly I never liked it and I had to do a bunch of coursework on it which was quite boring because analyzing their articles from a writing perspective. And yeah, there's enough photos of Jamie with the Guardian xD 

Of course I had to shamelessly mention that Jamie is a nice gender neutral name, because it is XD :P and yeah, I have this thing for Jamie's double breasted female section coats :3 which he always wears pretty much. 

And Jack briefly shows up:3

I hope you enjoyed it as well, I just love the fact that Miles is trans and yeah, we should really stick more non-cis characters and myself as well. I dunno, I just really love this story and yeah :3

Please tell me if you enjoyed it as well as I was quite anxious, I mean, this is the only non-cis milex story so yeah:3 


Saturday, 24 May 2014

Start Finding Passion (Blue/Jacket Prologue)

“What’s this cunt doing here?” I ask and a smug smile follows, as Jack is entirely covered by a very thick layer of sunscreen making him vanilla ice cream pale and with the right thickness, all dressed in black shorts, a black shirt and a huge white umbrella covering him and he’s even in a straw hat with a black feather, a notebook on his shorts opened with some diagonal scribbles and doodles around. I glance at Jamie who smirks.

“I dunno, tagged along?” He rubs his palms against his thighs, eager to jump into the water. 

“Bom dia, Jaime.” Jack mutters with an awful accent that even I realize that is more than wrong is and I just glance at my boyfriend.

“Fuck off, not interested.” And Jamie flips off at him and I see that he’s itching to get a cigarette, but we’ve left them as we just head towards the waves. I keep observing him, wondering how much more will he tan, as his mother pretty much threw everything she could on me, saying how pale I am and how I shouldn’t burn, not as bad as Jack, though. I dive eventually. 

I forgot that Jamie isn’t even his official real name, it was given to him when he moved, as he wanted something less... Brazilian and that seemed fair, I don’t go by Alexander either. 

I dive out, gasping, Jack waving from the shore before lighting a cigarette, blowing a kiss and I dive again after Jamie glances at me once more. It feels odd and obscure, as I don’t feel anything underwater until I start running out of air and once I’m out I feel Jamie hug me and try to dunk me back in, laughing. I emerge and try to shove him in, as Jamie tries to wave Jack in, his short frustration with him long gone, as we keep trying to dunk each other and everytime I try to swim I get hurled underwater either by my boyfriend or by the waves, as they seem to be taller than usual and the sea is much more disturbed which doesn’t keep anyone off the beaches and Jack from glancing at us through his sunglasses, elegantly biting the tip of his pencil as a few pens already lay discarded at his feet. 

I can’t help but keep watching him, knowing at who is he actually watching and it’s not even that it disturbs me, it’s that I know far too much, Jack asking me much before I had known much about Jamie, all of us forming some bizarre love triangle and not just because we all seemed to be tucked away in Stockholm for our own piece of mind, Jamie running away so that he didn’t have to sneak in boys every single time to his bedroom after his parents would call obscenity a gay couple showing up on Globo. I just ended up traveling around volunteering until I bumped into Jamie, who was studying and we moved in and I continued my nurse training in the country. Jack, was met when he already moved just because he had been writing about a couple in Stockholm and we had all ended up tagging along at all times. 

I think jealousy shrouds the mind sometimes that when I glance at Jack, I just keep staring at him before he raises his eyes and maybe I am slowly descending by openly admitting that I am scared of him. Jamie never went for Jack, but the fear still clogs me up even if Jack had admitted his defeat, he still softens up if Jamie is taking his time lighting a cigarette, he’ll just light it and Jamie won’t even nod, until his input in the conversation is done and then he will just quickly pat Jack’s shoulder.

I keep going down under and I wonder if there is any card alliance in which they end up together. I wonder how come I even managed to sneak in, the fear gripping me once we had arrived in the apartment, knowing that even if it would appear to be small, it’s cost would be far disturbing, realizing that I was about to enter the poshest region in Rio and that seemed to disturb me and wonder what would happen later to Jamie and once I entered I would realize that Jamie, being an only child would inherit this and the view to the ocean, of course. 

We rinse and repeat, Jack’s eyes either being on the paper in front of him or the cigarettes Jamie would stretch out in front of him, checking out how the sky would slowly start blacking out. Once, it starts getting darker, Jack decides to leave to get coconut water which I’ve been unfortunate to try, which seemed to sting my feet that both Jamie and Jack seemed to enjoy. I refused it, as Jamie pulled me down besides him on the sand as I would look at the stars, only lightly ruffled by the city and the part of the sky lit by electricty of the souls. 

I hear footsteps and once I turn Jamie gets hissed something in portuguese and I just see a bunch of hands, ruffling, messily, as if seraching for something raiding our backpacks, titlting it over, smirking at the condoms, as I try to reach for mine and I get mine grabbed from my hands. 

“Dickhead, they’re robbing us.” Jamie hisses at me as they yell something which I presume is sit down and I start shaking violently looking at the six black youths, which remind me of the ageless drug addicts on Brasil Avenue, just to be reached and dipped in the same poverty, only with a different fuel or maybe something else, because unless you’ve been touched, you believe that the filth wouldn’t touch you and when it does, your world crumbles, that Goddamn virginity of never getting robbed, shatters you and frankly you are being raped, as they start screaming,

“puxa a faca”

“Mostra a porra da faca!” Jamie fucking exclaims that even I shudder and that’s when one of the juveniles gets a knife from under his arm and Jamie pales. 

“Oi, you made friends! Hola, amigos. Coconut water?” Jack shows up walking closer and Jamie flips at him, mouthing something and Jack glances at his things before another youth takes out another knife and gets closer to Jack.

The same hands ruffle Jack’s empty bags full of souvenirs apparently as I still focus shifting from one knife to the other. They still take the bag. And his notes. 

“puxa a faca” is said through my head. 

They say something to Jamie and he just puts his head down and I see his shoulders shaking, fingers trembling against his swim shorts, he starts tapping random things as they walk away and Jack tries to aim the coconut once they turn their backs and I notice the ridiculous amount of locals around, how they all just stare, doing nothing

and my lip trembles. 

“Don’t.” Jamie whispers and Jack stops. He drops the coconuts and pulls Jamie into a hug as Jamie just starts crying. I stand up and I don’t hold and I yank both of them up, harshly and Jamie is shivering. 

“I don’t speak portuguese. Where’s the police station?” Jamie shudders and stands up, glancing around as some couple of wankers, who were watching say something and point as Jamie grabs my hand and we all three make a run, Jack fully clothed and both me and Jamie with our flipflops stolen and all clothing, as we keep running

and I realize that I’m running barefoot on the pavement, through the cars, as Jamie wipes his tears as we are near a booth. 

He starts speaking as Jack keeps rubbing his palms against his arms, looking down, sunglasses gone, I didn’t even realize they took them off.

Jack looks at me with his naked dark eyes and he pulls me into a hug, he’s much taller than both of us, as Jamie’s portuguese comes out rough, shaking and breaking in all moments, shattering, as eventually he just walks towards the telephone booth, starts dialing numbers before speaking and soon enough he motions us to follow him. We all raid our pockets, all cigarettes stolen with money. 

Jamie hisses not to ask locals and we keep walking on the pavement and he grabs my hand, harshly at first but then loosening his grip, stroking my fingers as we enter the police station after many blocks, all stalls mixing and digging into memory as a disgusting exotic blur which I want to shield myself from as we get inside, my head spinning and all I do is

“puxa a faca”

“puxa a faca”

“puxa a faca”

I get to the drinking basin, drinking greedily, as Jack stands next to Jamie, Jamie yelling at the police man as he starts crying and Jack holds him again. I watch them, water hitting my lips, bruising me slowly as shock seemed to be threading me like a needle, letting me fear myself and my memories, my mind or let myself burn in jealousy as he threads his hair, now dyed a darker colour than when I had met him. Jack’s lips touch his neck. 

“Cara!” A new bloke exclaims and I turn around to see someone else, taller, paler than a usual Brasilian, yet Jamie raises his head to see someone else, shaking, with dark hair and he releases himself from Jack and hugs the newcomer. He has one flip flop on. Also just in his orange swim trunks, which happen to have sharks all over them. I just keep watching as Jamie starts talking to the new bloke in portuguese before he calls me over and I feel terrible, that I didn’t offer him water or anything and I just put my hand across his shoulders, still anxious to hold his hand in the police station. 

When I started working as a nurse, I had a ridiculous amount of nightshifts which seemed to only feast out desire to stay up late all year, as Jamie started doubting education far long ago, knowing that he could simply continue living on what his parents had given him. I tried to teach him the basics, how to do injections and massages but he still struggled, not sure he would be able to snap out in a situation where he had to act fast.
It’s not that he had an existential crisis, he just seemed to be worn out of life, not sure where to spin and parent’s money seemed to cater his needs, giving him a fair share up to the point that we wondered if we should save up and get our own apartment. He had asked his parents who merely said that he as a Brazilian had to return to his land with a woman, never coming out to them, looking now at them and at the whole country I just see that sometimes your own heritage can suck you out, not like mine which is idle as a brick, just building it’s fort on ignorance.
It’s not that he didn’t know what to do, it was the trauma of everything he’d touch which would echo his parents desire which was funny considering his father was a scriptwriter as well.
Jamie’s plays seemed to be contradicting his fathers, once I had read them. He developed a tuitions of waking at seven, lightly stroking my hair, still asleep, lighting a cigarette and just grabbing a laptop, one hand still in my hair and his neutrality typing would sometimes wake me.
I’ve read it.
I’ve lived it.
I knew all the love there was written for me but I was always anxious of mentions of other men, scared that Jack would pounce among the letters to form love instead of words.
I wasn’t as talented as Jack, I wasn’t as talented as Jamie and their resemblance and my pure ability to keep the necessities alive sometimes seemed shallow, that the lives I’ve saved maybe smiled but my saving never went as deep as Jack’s or Jamie’s once he’d have the courage to write beyond seven a.m, an hour after we’d try to sleep.

I think fate is a ridiculous thing which happens to send Jack as the Grim Reaper, seeming to simply cut the thread which ties my hands to Jamie’s and it seems to shock me and I wonder who would be fate then, who is they, who walks choosing who to intertwine and who to shove to change fate and how bony would their hands be, decomposing from all the lives wasted and how they would carry everyone on their backs until we would all fall dead just to have someone pick us up, let ourselves melt, become sand so that we just fall into the the pit of nothing underneath the feet as fate and death would stand in the middle of it all, both faceless staring at each other as I would hang and sometimes eye Jamie and once I see him lean in to kiss Jack, my throat tightening I just pull Jamie into a hug and everyone stops talking as he just grabs onto me.

I don’t cry.

Jamie doesn’t cry.

We all just sit and wait, my mind now fuzzy as they let us head into the pharmacy (Jack scrapped something off) and I wait impatiently as they raid for something which could actually soothe us, Jack seems to try and talk to the taller lad, as I eye him. He doesn’t look like he’s further than first generation Brazilian, even if his accent is thickly covered and no Brazilian tint seems to be there, just some softness like Jamie’s. In the end we buy the pills as we start heading back, all of us hungry and muttering everything, as Jamie finally reaches his parents, agreeing to pick up Julian, who ends up being the other lad.

I offer to come with Jamie to the bathroom, but he tells me to stay as I just sit, watching Jack and giving myself an awkward silence as I seem to be fighting with someone who will eventually steal my boyfriend once he wakes up. 

Maybe some things are too shallow to be coincidence but sometimes you see those who actually gave you some low harm, which caused you to bump your head against the wall in frustration and I glance at the black youth which is dragged inside, his eyes empty and his bones seem to be sticking out too freely, but never giving the sense of fragile, but of a unbendable wire, which seems to be chucked out. He glances at me and holds his gaze. 

I palen up.

“Jack, I think... he was one of them.” Jack blinks and then leans to talk to Julian, who blinks quite a few times and only stands up when we both nod and leaves us alone to be sitting across the room of the filth. He keeps staring at us and Jack just stares back and eventually he puts an arm around my shoulders, but when I glance at him, he doesn’t look back, in a ridiculous fighting contest with someone who I wish would be hanged, because he could’ve killed us and Julian entertained us by saying that we should be lucky because usually they just stab, because the dead can’t tell.

I look at his shallow eyes, knowing how many he’s killed, how his stained hands will leave in years with a clean sheet due to Brazilian politics, a government which hails juveniles by letting them rob and stab, kill and thrill their empty lives and drench their elbows in someone else’s blood, that a killer is hailed above the victim. 

Jamie comes back from the bathroom, focusing on the juvenile whose interest seems to lay in my boyfriend now, I’d expect him to clench his fists, instead he has some shallow hatred and a prayer to the same God we pray. In the end they come to take him, his piercing glare among us as we sit, getting reports how they can’t prove that it’s him.

But when they emerge, I see a small box, but I just get my head pinned against Jamie’s shoulder as he strokes my hair, as if I was the one breaking down. 

All I understand is cara and assault then they address a question towards me. 

“What?” I glance at Jack, whose portuguese is as bad as mine. Jamie grins as his fingers still mess my hair, Julian laughing now hysterically as they show my pack of cigarettes with a nearly torn off Swedish label, telling you that cigarettes kill. 


This was fucking hard to write actually and I've been writing this for at least three weeks? xD Mainly the story was thought of actually when me and Callie were swimming before the assault actually. I kept thinking of how should I do an Alex/Julian as well, they are the main pairing here even if Alex/Jamie is very in your face here. 

This is the prologue to Blue/Jacket and I actually wrote the next chapter of Blue/Jacket but I decided that it's better to actually show this so that well, everyone would know the importance of this characters as they will show up in Blue/Jacket, so yeah:3 

I'm quite happy about this and I'm just happy to be exploring and pushing the boundaries here which I never really talked about in stories much, so I'll keep silent on that:3 the title actually came to me as I was looking for an appropriate title for Get Down On Your Knees In The Tunnel Of Love (which is a great story and you should check out :P) and I used it for this XD 

I dunno, I just really love how Alex/Jamie work and I ship them a lot in my stories and they end up being my favourite couple regardless of how they end up and yeah. I've talked about this with Callie, as I always end up putting them in a interesting relationship, like in Saints Preserve Us, Jamie is Alex's dad and they always take the pis of each other, which is fascinating to write about, I've also got about 1.5 k of the next chapter, so it should be up soon xD 

Ok, here we go analyzing xD

I was really laughing and having a great time and it was late and the exchange of phrases between Jamie, Jack and Alex came to me. Ok, Callie being Brazilian gives me a lot of insight on Brazil and it's culture which I've shed light on in the story and I guess just like I've shown how the UK really is, I've been itching to show Brazil, no offense to anyone, but for me and Callie it's been awful and the whole culture of 'born in Brazil, die in Brazil' is very harmful to LGBT people and not only. 

I wanted to set a story in Brazil before we got assaulted and all was cheery and all. And I was really thinking which story and what could I do, what could I show. I didn't really want to start a new story. And I like anyone who pretty much is in Brazil have came across the lovely bizarre soap opera on Globo called Em Familia, which currently has the weirdest plot ever and I've been keeping track of it, so point is, one of the characters is called Jaime, which is a variation of Jamie in Portuguese and it just sounds fucking nice really xD even if the character annoys me XD all characters annoy me xD but I've been keeping track, because it's impossible not to, c'mon even TVs in busses show it XD so I was thinking who the fuck can I make Brazilian and Jamie has less pale skin than the rest and actually giving his birth name Jaime seemed nice, because the name does sound fucking nice XD and I guess for those who are familiar with Rio, I decided to take the piss and Jamie's parents live in Leblon, a tacky shout out from me xD 

It's been awfully hard to write the assault and I've changed the details, like me and Callie didn't actually see the knife, so when they showed us the bag with the knife we had no idea if that was the same person. And what they found on the juvenile was my Forever 21 necklace which he thought was gold xD anyway XD 

The hands ruffling the objects is actually the scene which haunts me the most. 

And the phrase of showing the knife.

Shout out to Callie for helping me with Portuguese xD

And yes, no local helped us when the beach was crowded. I don't even want to talk of it.

The description is very fairly close to ours, just the actual assault changed a bit, we were never shown knives and it was just the two of us. 

I had actually no profession for Jamie until now and in Blue/Jacket when I'd think of the other chapters he seems to be very dim, shaken by life and now it made sense, because well frankly I think I've spoken enough about Brazil here and Callie is still very shaken by the whole shallowness, recklessness and the whole dystopia which the country seems to be. I don't think I've ever heard of such an incompetent educational system, which just drained her and I guess I just want to speak of it and show it through one of my character's. Also shed light on Brazil's homophobia. 

A big theme would be Alex's comparison to himself, Jack and Jamie and of course his jealousy. Oh, I'm shooting spoilers because it's a big theme XD

Also I dunno, me barely speaking portuguese the amount of 'cara' (which literally means face but is actually dude) used in conversation just strikes me xD I dunno, it stings to me as something so informal you wouldn't use unless close, but that's just me. 

So yeah, I like just showing the way things are and I'm happy I decided to make Jamie and Julian Brazilian xD I'll keep silent about Julian and yeah :D

I hope you enjoyed this monster because I'm really proud of it, so yeah, please tell me if you enjoyed it so I will post the next chapter faster :D and yeah

Thank you everyone for your kind words



Saturday, 17 May 2014

Untitled 5Silence Seems To Feed Us 12

Love seems to be a Christmas cracker which Brian barges in with, his mood with the pendulum around his neck jerking towards cockiness as he just walked in, taking his coat off and demonstratively shaking off the rain of it onto the cream carpet which is older than all of us combined. 

I watched him as he threw the crackers at me, more gifts in a fancy bag and he walked on, waving at Alison and his next phrase was just as obscure as the shimmery dress he was in. 

“Since when are you into women?” I stop stirring the coffee, which Brian seemed to dunk milk in and I just shift uncomfortably in my chair. He just smirks, his eyeliner far too perfect and something I had shown him how to do years ago, while he had showed me mascara as we would apply, giggling, thinking we were something or someone we would never be. I take a sip and I close to eyes due to my impatience and I open them to see Brian laughing.

“You said you’d never be with a woman. That’s why your parents kicked you out.” That’s when I kick out Brian, grabbing him by the thick straps of his shimmery mermaid dress, the fucker looking at me with an amused face. 

“Oi, no need to get so heated, honey. There’s a reason to all. Maybe you decided to cling onto your worst fear.” And he burns my cheek with his kiss, as I grab the box of crackers, forgetting about the expensive gifts he brought in the Selfridges yellow bags under the table as I kick him back into the rain. When I walk past a dazing off Alison, I’m thankful my past is a bit off limits to her. 

“And fuck you too.” I say to Brian who smokes outside, the rain now gone and the flirtation always on when it comes to me and him from his useless side, I yell as I slam the window closed, Alison opening her eyes and I just stomp back to the kitchen, sexuality now no longer repressed. 


And I'm back with early The Kills :D and of course, I had to include Brian further into the story and I awfully ship them, but this isn't about them, he just shows up as an ex really, but yeah, he's a cheeky bastard here and it was interesting to write them in this setting when Jamie is in love with Alison solely. 

And yeah, I got inspired to write it by saying that well people still read it and recall it, because I really love this story but I just get shy and shift to other things which people read, so never hesitate to ask me about things, I easily pick up things and I love all my stories unless I say that for some reason I stopped, but I really don't xD 

And yeah, I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did and I quite like the format of short snippets in this story and I wrote a paragraph of the next, so please tell me if you enjoyed it :3

and yeah, everyone should check Scarfo and listen to angsty Jamie, which is interesting since you only hear angsty Brian usually. 

And yeah, it's more of a Jamie centered chapter:)

Please tell me if you liked it and feel free to request :3



Thursday, 15 May 2014

get down on your knees in the tunnel of love

I wake up and I wonder where has my life gone, why have all the decisions I’ve done long gone, there’s just the small traces left in the wood, there’s not even ash and I start thinking that it just might still be in my head.

The worries I’ve got sometimes seem small but around a bunch of couples and people divorcing, marrying and drinking the question is always


brought up again and when you’re single you start ruffling through your exes, I don’t even need a damn drink in my hand, I just have to cross the floor, kick the rug and raid through the vinyls to find the most used ones and wonder if the cigarette smell on them is my own or his.


It digs into my mind, just like I traces I don’t see, maybe I don’t even see them in my mind anymore. 

It’s not even that I don’t know his number anymore, I damn well know his number, it had been done as a joke in case I’d lose the phone and once I used it to call Jamie from a payphone, instantly regretting it while checking out all the hot strippers I could hire in my area, but that just made the number blaze in my mind.

There’s no point deleting something the mind can’t hide. 

We all believe in the illusion that we are still loved. 

It’s not that I can’t find people who resemble him, but they make me cringe because I get angry because they can’t do the things that he does and they can’t even dump me like he did, it’s like I wish I could get stuck in time and let myself slide deeper into the mattress as he leaves, fucking thinking that he loves me.

Jealousy and mistakes seem to run like salt through my fingers, fear becomes the steering wheel of fortune which seems to have blind desire as a diamond handle. 

The frustration plays on me like a violin, it seems to make me want to keep sketching lines on a piece of paper when my eyes are already rolling back, some tense anxiety pulling me by the elbows as I keep thinking of all the lovers who had chosen a gender opposite of mine and it gets even more frustrating when you think, bowing on the stage,

of your own ambiguous identity and how fluid it is, how unprecise compared to a lit cigarette and a fan always giving you tooth ache yet never beating the heat of the well powdered room. 

It’s the frustration, the fucking frustration of the first love even when it’s not the first. Jamie had screamed that at me, when we were both alone in the auditorium, he keeps shattering me and I keep finding his new number to dial only for him to realize who it is to block me again. 

I will never say to his face the anxiety he brings, because once I see him, it’s an injection, an instant relief with the pain attached to the needle once it pierces the peel of the skin. And the anxiety seems to ride me as the ticket seems to be beside me and already covered in my sweat, my eyes feeling diluted, watery, far too washed down to understand what’s going on as I slowly start dressing myself up to be the faceless giant of the crowd to be watching him, move his fingers on the neck of the guitar and plead that he would see me. 

I think I’m the flutist, who stole the flute from the lover and who people don’t want to listen to. 

It feels like dressing up to a date which I know will not attend, everything seems to strangle me as my fingers shake as I think of eyeliner but instead I just bite my lips and slowly start applying gray eyeshadow to my eyelids, shaking and fixing it with my fingers nervously all the time, watching my reflection as if I could see my hair grow in this small fragment of time. 

The biggest fall is your own when you look at your reflection, it’s not that you don’t recognize yourself, it’s that you know yourself too damned well, you know that the wrinkles are him tracing the knife upon my forehead, giving me the disgusting migraines, pushing me further to collpase onto my own operating table, already the autopsy done on the living body, the cuts to open and examine but doctor Jamie isn’t here. 

And I don’t even have the nurses.

It doesn’t rain as I get into the venue. Some people recognize me and I just quickly sign and get back in the end of the queue, until someone spots me and yanks me forward which leads me to many people who are much younger than me and Jamie will ever be in our bodies and they seem to destroy us with their presence, sinking Jamie in an illusion of love and granting me anonymity. 

And he emerges on stage, all eyes on Alison thankfully and I feel like I’m the only one with the real feast, recognizing his silhouette more than anyone, heard his muffled moans plenty times under my own mouth, felt his sweat originate, felt him pull me over the edge, felt his hands trailing down my skin, felt his hands around my neck, chocking, his pleading, his taste, his eyes fluttering shut, his exhale and the whole essence of his release. 

Love seems to wash over me, as if he’s looking at me again, a piercing yet soft stare like a post-sex kiss, lukewarm and shattering to build up strength again and once more later. It’s odd when you see someone who you love with your entire being, it’s always the same feeling only it’s covered in different layers, which cover you either with desire or anxiety of seeing them and right now, I’m not so sure anymore because I’m open to observe him, because I know that he doesn’t see me even when I get spilled with beer and I don’t even flinch, I only move closer to the stage, but never close enough, but I know I’ve seen more of him than all this room combined and Alison who has the same fate of on and off as I’ve had and I can only say that I have some advantage which she doesn’t have. 

I wonder if she knows, but it seems ridiculous if she wouldn’t know. 

I keep watching as they both seem to be putting fingers in each other’s mouth when the other isn’t watching and we all follow their endless tension which never breaks, an endless triumph of flirtation which tempts them both and keeps their careers going, allowing the blind lie that love between men and women exist. It’s too socially constructed and unreal to actually exist even if sometimes the bond develops, it still has too much accessibility and no fight which you should do for love. And when there was no fight, it still didn’t exist besides for recreation at least in my belief because the history you get fed is surely not real. 

The music seems to turn into vacuum noise sometimes, his own vision colliding with mine and for a split second, just like anyone in the audience I hope I am the selfish reason of his note split and I keep watching, his music tearing me apart as I wonder if any phrases were written about me, how much were my love knocking on his door and how many had opened his mind at least for a few seconds, a fair share of my misery shared with him at least for a while, at least some weight of lost love would lay on his shoulders. 

The closer it gets to the end, when everyone’s sweat seems to be mass produced and the air stale and all beer spilt and everyone’s voice gone and they’re gone for the encore I can feel my blood pressure rising, my teeth shattering under my own tension, my fingertips feeling like some fabric pulled by all edges, as strong as a string, pulsing and they emerge and song by song I feel the ground start falling after my feet, I can’t help but glance around just to give myself the illusion that I’m not here but I still hear his guitar strumming, I still hear how he shifts pedals and I can just wrap myself under the illusion of Alison’s singing. 

Then Alison’s illusion and the curtains fall, revealing both of them not as God anymore but as my ex and his on and off girlfriend as they leave and people start slowly and I wait until the crowd sucks itself out and I slowly make my wait, too anxious to even buy water as I see someone also dragging themselves slower and I just walk even slower, some anxious decision to be last as I still need to catch him when everyone’s gone, to avoid people talking and to let myself be shot under the fire with the wounds open and not to be treated. 

I smoke two cigarettes one after another as I wait, all my bets placed on recognition as I slowly make my way, I’m sure my lips are blue and I just hug myself as I start hearing the bouncers discuss as I approach, they wave me over and I put on a fake smile, nodding, thankful for my own fame which I’ve stolen many years ago from Jamie and soon enough I’m in, letting a few fans out who seem to dazzled by the two star personas and I get in and I try the dressing room and it’s locked and I just hear voices from the small common room as I wait in the corridor, fidgeting with my hands, breathing heavier with each second as I try to calm myself down as my teeth start chattering and I try to pull the door of the dressing room, afraid to out myself to anyone besides Jamie. Maybe I should’ve bought a gift. I start panicking and I wonder what should I do as I keep glancing and the desire to leave seems to suffocating me and desire to hide myself somewhere seems to emerge, as I don’t feel like seeing anyone, even not sure I want to see the man himself. 

Then I see Alison emerge, already a cigarette between her lips, slowly fiddling and itching with the lighter as she sees me and smiles, giving a soft wave. 

“Hey.” She says to me, before turning back to the common room as it quiets a bit. “Hey, Jamie, Brian’s here.” 

I hear his silence. I’m sure he holds himself and soon I hear heels against the floor and soon enough he emerges, vest undone and scarf loosen and wine in hand. Alison just proceeds to leave the venue, humming after a successful concert as Jamie just looks at me before downing the wine, closing his eyes, maybe praying to the devil which brought me to take me away. 

“Look-” I start.

His eyes snap open and he takes out the keys from his pocket and he opens the dressing room silently, some regret showing up on his face, Jamie cringes but lets me in anyway. 

It’s not even that I feel naked, it’s the blind desire of me wishing that he’d pin me down, that he’d kiss me again, that he’d let himself loose, that I’d feel his tongue eager against my own, our clothes becoming something unnecessary, some burning desire consuming us, but what I expected is the thing which dawns on me, Jamie putting the glass down, looking at himself in the mirror before glancing back at me as if I am a devil which maybe won’t be seen in the reality of a mirror. But I see his broken look which a mirror can evilly reflect and I feel myself slowly unraveling, knowing all the pain I’ve caused. 

“What do you want?” And I know he has no patience as he turns around, his knuckles clenched and white. I can’t even speak up and he doesn’t move, my whole anxiety swallowing me into a hole as I can’t even ask myself what do I truly want. He still looks the same and also the glare he gives me has the same tired feel, because I just kept fucking things up one after another, the fear moving my hands and my own desire for Stefan making everything worse and because both me and Stefan were taken, we had the illusion that it was alright, but it wasn’t. 

I don’t know.

I honestly don’t know what to say, as I keep looking at him, Jamie not loosening, instead he tenses up even more and he looks the same, maybe needs his hair hair ruffled a bit. I glance backwards towards the door and I wonder how much do other people actually know about Jamie, but I’m sure maybe on the first tour while driving, eyes firmly looking ahead he just told Alison about his life, making sure that I would never be in the biography, to make his memories more artistic, he removed the sting from the bee which is already dead anyway. 

“You.” My mouth dries as I speak and he just looks down.


Ok, I literally had Callie hit me numerously with pillows for the ending of this chapter and I spent 30 minutes trying to get a title and I did XD yay XD at 6.30 am. Anyway

Funnily enough this story was initially and actually an Alexa Chung/Alex Turner but I got really ticked off at her sex-shaming, skinny culture to a gross extent that people starve themselves to look like someone who dresses worse than I would at high school when I had to look formal, shallow and pretty much fucking triggers me. So I dropped the request but I liked where this story was pretty much going and also Alexa's IT is the grosses thing ever and I've never been so ticked off and in general my hatred for that fucking piece of stapled paper seems to inspire me to write stuff xD and I looked at this story and I was like someone who is crying into a granola bar because they have a nice haircut because they think they got dumped for not being girly enough does not deserve this story and I had gotten her wrong.

So this thing pretty much was left for quite a while and I had wanted to write some other side of the heartbreak and I was thinking about writing something from Brian's point of view and pretty much now it's close to 2.5 k and it had just maybe 200 when it was about  Miss Shallow Granola (I'm sleepy and I hate people who shame me in any way, so I'm spitting this out) so yeah.

Also a big inspiration had been the fact that Brian went quite a few times to see Jamie live as The Kills and in general I can go on for hours on the evidence I've raided enough to prove that they dated. 

I actually stopped writing for a while, struggling what would Brian actually say and yeah, there it is and I'm off to think about it, but I know where it would go now and I kind of want it opposite to PDD as I kind of still… ship them heavily pretty much xD I love them together, my dear doomed OTP xD 

Ok, with the title it was awful because my original was You'll Die Here which echoes with You're Not Coming Back Again at least seemed to Callie and then I started watching a few Jamie interview to see if I could scrap something off and I ended up to use it for the Blue/Jacket prequel XD which is the Alex Turner/Julian Casablancas story which should be published in the next few days xD (it's much over 2k already :) ) and I dunno why but I recalled the sleeve of Tunnel of Love, gave it a listen and the line which is the title pretty much stuck to my head, as being an insane believer in Jamie's closet and Brian/Jamie it stuck out to me and I was fiddling with calling it Tunnel of Love, or Tunnel is Love which seemed nice but I figured that frankly no one really knows Scarfo unfortunately so I figured to shed some light on this lovely line so yeah:3

Also check out Blyth Power to see a dancing Jamie in dreadlocks. Best shit ever. Makes my day. 

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this and I'm fucking tired and I wanted this up and yeah, I love those two morons to bits and I fucking want to see a photo of them when they were dating preferably when Jamie had dyed blonde hair so that I'll have like a matching favourite photo of fetus Jamie to the dreadlocked Jamie videos XD 

I hope you enjoyed it and if you did, please tell me so and then we can both cry that they were perfect together.