I like the view right now.
Lillian Vale allowed her thoughts to wander back to the days, weeks, months, years, time when she did not quite like the view, when the view was less of a sight for sore eyes.
She remembered quite well, a fading memory, huddled in her own empty vessel, every joint and fiber for themselves, in her seat, seeking warmth, winter fire, the sun's kiss that follows every spring rain, coffee by the autumn lake, just about anything summery, in herself, she seeked, tried, reached out - in - at least for a ghostly hug, alone as she always did. Always. Her oversized cardigan and hood, grey, pale and empty grey, and worn out, nevertheless being the only closest thing she could call comfort, a protective layer, a shield, over her insecurities.
'Why do you wear cardigans?' 'You seem to love cardigans so much don't you?' 'I see it's your style', she remembered plain, bland, eternal flame green persona Lucy Hearthstone say, as though she knew Lillian Vale like the back of her hand, oh so well, when in reality it was quite the opposite. Oh how very little she knew, how very little they knew about the emotional baggage, the sack weighed heavy of body shame, beauty stereotypes, and the name calling even from the most random strangers that passed by - their words, their faces clear as day, slowly descending back into the fog where they came from as the view gets more likeable - that had built the extra fabric skin of a misty grey cardigan that camouflaged ever so well with rain and its sad thunderous clouds. Her only comfort zone, where the downcast rain, behind all eccedentesiastic smiles mislead for pure rays of sunshine, was welcome. The heat in the summer, the sweat that trickled down her back and growing chest didn't matter as long as everything was in hideaways. Just a little less of her imperfections to show outside. Just a little less playful - hurtful - banter. Just a little less criticism. She was safe, stuck, in her pile of worn grey fabric.
August.
One fine August morning. Another day followed by yet a new - yet, so routined, summertime sadness - slumber party where she was always 'the quiet one' , the one left out, the last black pawn among all the white pieces of power, the black swan, the listener - the fixer - and listener alone with no favour in return, unheard and forgotten, a suppressed voice and oppressed tears where gold would rot into rust for once, and where metal would bleed crimson and scarlet at the tip of her tongue, where she'd walk back home, knowing very little that this was the last time she'd see them as a ten-year-old, or possibly ever, a long gone memory she'd never miss, along the trampled edges of the street, the brown waves of fog, a damp soul with empty joy and unfilling aimless smiles, eccedentesiastic as ever, that cover up her scattered pool of fluid emotions, thoughts that turned to anxieties, unwanted phobias, swirling up like whirlpools, tornadic waterspouts as lightning and wind collide at the ocean's horizon that carry potential murder genes, like typhoons and monsoons. Just another slumber party where Lucy Hearthstone was suddenly not the same as when they were alone, when it was just them and everything was okay. Suddenly, Lillian Vale's enthusiasms didn't matter at Lucy's presence anymore, as though they were never valid, just because her interests and comforts did not quite align with Lucy and the rest of her friends, simply because she loved what they hated.
'Why are you always so quiet!' 'Be more open!'
Suddenly, she was pulled and pushed between told to be more open and forced into silence.
August. One fine August morning, going on afternoon, a brunchless stomach, a weighing lumping, limping throat, clogging nasals, burning brown orbs, so blue and red at the same time, where tears that threatened to ooze, a scream where only a painful mute escaped, for years and years and years, just about anything and everything her mind and wounded heart bore the weight of. A silent cry, she was. Every bit of many unsaid things gathered in the form of a ghostly luggage hovering over her weakening shoulders, at the tip of her tongue - sick and tired of their attitude, of Lucy playing pretend to never know her, telling her she loves her but cutting her down - like venom held on for too long it was deathly, as she walked along the foggy damp streets of New York, a haunted lost soul.
She wished she were in California.
Two seconds away from getting lost, losing it, and telling herself that these were just her petty thoughts - the lack of warmth even in spring completely ignored, the icy thorns, frost, pinning her mind and sealing her lips for a lifetime, pushed away, away, away - that Lucy Hearthstone and the rest of her friends had their initials tattooed on a chain around her neck at chokehold not because they owned her, but because they knew her, but because they loved her, her ten-year-old self, they loved her and she believed it. Her gut deliberately ignored, she believed them.
She needed it, a little Californiacation. Where she'd listen to the waves hum, and where the waves would listen to her soul too, even on thunderous summer nights. She knew she could find the beat of her heart once again among the waves. Just about somewhere she was free to be herself. Back then she never knew the reason behind her enthusiasm and vivid emotional attachment to the prior.
She was about to find out.
August. It was one fine August afternoon when Rhea Thornewood, first cousin to Vale, showed up quite literally out of nowhere like a hurricane before the latter could reach home - a house - to another chamber where understanding was unknown and mental health was ignored, where nothing but criticisms and false smiles exist. Young Rhea Thornewood and her wavy curls slowly growing, her tan skin, sun-kissed freckles and soft dark orbs for eyes, and a questionable set of arrows tide to her back, a dagger hidden at her combat boots, a quite extraordinary outfit and equipment for a New Yorker in summer, took Lillian back by surprise and gasp at the sudden unexpected visit.
And that's when everything changed.
She remembered quite well, ever so clearly, being dragged by the hand along the streets of New York, with no explanation, unanswered questions, hiding in buildings, and running again, hiding, running, running, hiding and running to Rhea's reckless driving and back to running, and down the rabbit hole - 'Rhea Thornewood I need answers! You show up out of nowhere and you have the audacity to drag me!? From what? From what are we running from?! ' Not now. I can't tell you their names. Names have power on monsters.' 'Monsters- what?! Rhea tell me what's going on!' 'Hush! Besides our scent, they'll hear you.' - and into wonderland. Oh poor ten-year-old Lillian had nothing in her head but at least twenty raw questions, her prior anxieties the least of her priorities at that moment.
Lillian Vale still remembers, as clear as Apollo's rays through trembling yet so still water against the sand at the bottom, running up and down the north shore of Long Island and Half-Blood Hill, past the infamous pine tree, the golden fleece that guarded it, being absolutely terrified and letting out a slight yelp seeing Peleus the dragon for the first time, soundly asleep. She remembers quite well how she couldn't put a finger which was more terrifying, seeing a dragon living and breathing right in front of her very eyes, or the sudden realisation that dragons actually exist. She remembered stopping and thinking then and there, baffled, her feet frost, if she was going paranoid. She remembered Rhea running back to her, shaking her out of her trance and dragging her down the hill before murder was about to happen. She remembers running past the magic border's, that protected the land from mortals and monsters, and into Camp Half-Blood, finding everything and anything unable to believe, knowing very little she'll be regretting not paying attention to her Greek Mythology lessons in a couple of months, processing everything in her own pace along the way as the activities director, Chiron, the centaur - half-horse, half-man - gave her the warm welcoming of a tour around the camp. She remembers walking past the volleyball pit where several campers and satyrs were occupied in a game. She recalls walking through the strawberry fields for the first time, where campers were picking bushels of berries while a satyr played a tune on a reed pipe, the brass eagle weather vane on the four story farmhouse. The forest, that took at least quarter of the valley, tall and thick trees, the archery range, the canoeing lake, the stables that clearly got Chiron's face twisted a wee-bit, the javelin range, the sing-along amphitheatre, and the arena where non-lethal sword and spear fights were held. The cabins, nestled in the woods by the lake, arranged in a U, looking absolutely nothing alike, unique to one another, like every diversity and misfit come together at the dawn of world peace .
She remembers meeting Connor Stoll, head counselor of the Hermes cabin, for the first time. She remembers sitting at the corner at the Hermes table at seven thirty just in time for dinner, and the offering for the gods before that, Connor Stoll going on about how things function at the cabin, and something about his brother - Travis? - was in college. She remembers attempting to sink in every detail of the days events, her grip on her grey cardigan tightening, clinging onto it like a lifeline, unable to comprehend which life she preferred better, New York or Camp Half-Blood. But then, she remembers taking the first glimpse of the evening sky of August, hues of pink, yellow and orange, the sweet hum, the calm lull of the ocean, its waves against the golden beach just a few feet away. The ocean. She remembers Poseidon claiming her as his daughter, just a few days later, the rest of the campers and satyrs bowing down, Rhea Thornewood giving her the proudest and warmest smile, defeating nectar and ambrosia, from the Artemis table, with the rest of the hunters and their eternal youth. She remembers blue eyes, a hint of seaweed green, and layers of jet black hair, reaching arms to her ever so welcomingly. The infamous Percy Jackson, head counselor of the Poseidon cabin. She remembers sitting with her few half-siblings at the Poseidon table ever since, shy and awkward at first but realising they shared a lot more of her persona than with Lucy Hearthstone and the rest back in New York. Her trust issues held her back. She found it hard to open up. The cardigan felt ever so interesting once again, a little less grey. It was wide-eyed, bunny-toothed, coconut-haired, ever so smiley Jungguek Jeon, who spoke to her first, after Percy. Judging from his demeanour, the way he rarely made eye contact, the way he played with his thumbs, it was pretty obvious he wasn't the most extrovert person out there. An introvert, quite like her. It was safe to say that it was quite endearing when he spoke in that small voice of his, next to her, 'Hey look! We have the same colour for cardigans'. And indeed they did, gender-neutral, grey and warm, suddenly a little less sad. It was indeed the start of something new. Little did the two siblings know they were born to make history, chaos, and wars that involve gallons of water and friendly sibling-friendly bullying. Time would be in their favour. It was nice to have a friend, a brother.
Then came July, along with little invitations hooked to owls guided by goddess Athena. Hogwarts. Lillian Vale being a muggleborn and an eleven-year-old broken child , who was just beginning to learn that Greek mythology was definitely no myth, had zero wizarding knowledge. Of course, she had heard about Hogwarts as she knew Rhea attended the school, who was now a fifth year Slytherin. But Rhea had a father back home to educate her on the wizarding background, someone who'd accept her for being a witch, unlike Lillian. Her mother was a muggleborn. 'This must have been a mistake', she remembers her eleven-year-old self say. But then instantly settled as she saw the adrenaline rush in Rhea, the enthusiasm written all over her, genuinely overjoyed hearing that her little cousin sister will be attending Hogwarts with her. 'You don't have to have wizard or witch blood in your veins to get the invitation, silly!'. She was reassured. She remembers as clear as day, reading her very own invitation to Hogwarts as a student. She remembers Jungguek, all bunny smiles and giggly running towards her, with his very own letter. She remembers smiling, feeling content. At least she had Jungguek to go to. It was indeed nice to have a brother, a friend.
Lillian Vale remembers, excited and nervous, walking straight past the barrier between platform nine and ten - platform nine and three-quarters. Uniform, three plain sets of black robes, pointed black hat, protective dragon gloves, winter cloak and its silver fastenings, books, The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 1 by Miranda Goshwak, A History of Magic by Bathilda Bagshot, Magical Theory by Adalbert Waffling, A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration by Emeric Switch, One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi by Phyllida Spore, Magical Drafts and Potions by Arsenius Jigger, Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them by Newt Scamander, The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection by Quentin Trimble, wand, Sycamore wood with a unicorn hair core, 11 14", cauldron, crystal phials, telescope, brass scales, all packed in a trunk. She had her dear grey cardigan on her, and so did Jungguek, whom she met at the station with his own trunk of equipment, an absolutely beautiful Ural Owl, who she'd learn later was named Celeste - his mother, whispering the most encouraging words and warm motherly smiles - a sight for sore eyes -, never taking the fabric off, at least until they arrived at Hogwarts. They had Rhea as well as Mrs. Jeon for guidance, to relax the two first years' nerves before they teleported themselves through platform nine and three-quarters. She remembered the day ever so well. Her first train trip to Hogwarts, having an absolute thrill with the Chocolate Frogs, and Rhea pranking the two young ones into tasting the absolute worst flavours of Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans, a constant piece of mischief Lillian would most definitely be using against the all too oblivious Jungguek Jeon in the years yet to come, as they grow.
She remembers seeing the castle and its glory for the first time, perched atop a high mountain, surrounded by a great black lake, its windows sparkling in the starry sky, many turrets and towers. She remembers running up the many stairs, excitement driving her petite self almost insane. She remembers feeling small yet empowered under the stern eyes of Head Mistress Miverva McGonagall. Her emerald green robes and black pointed hat were definitely spiritual links to potential power.
'Slytherin!'
She remembers being sorted into the house that could lead you all the way to greatness, the house of ambition, thus, noted as one of the rare mugglborns in the house. And for the second time since Lillian Vale received her letter from Hogwarts, the greatest school for witchcraft and wizardry of all time, Rhea Thornewood was once again doing her happy dance. The younger one felt belonged all over again, among a bunch of housemates, who were abundant of potential, chaos, and mischief. Little did the eleven-year-old Lillian Vale know, she'd find most of her real friends among the many unfamiliar faces, strangers in black robes and green ties. They were still strangers. Starting with Hades kid, Thea Jay. She remembers the day quite solidly, walking down the dungeons, rooming with a younger Thea Jay, little pig tails and glasses. She was definitely an extrovert back then, and slightly taller than Lillian. Back then, they were just roommates. They were just mutuals, just two housemates. A few small talk here and there, knowing very little of the love-hate relationship of driving each other absolutely crazy, the late night rendezvous in the hallway, the playful height bullying, the random pick-up lines they'd throw at each other just to see the other one flustered. They were yet to know.
And then came along, Newt Hope.
She remembers meeting Newt for the first time. Maybe it was the way his soft persona brought out so much warmth in him, maybe it was the British accent and the constant swearing - 'bloody, hell'. Maybe it was the blonde waves of hair cut long, the endearing brown orbs and the smile you can only find in the afterglow. Maybe it was the way he was effortlessly good at archery, and even offered to give her lessons. Maybe it was the Hufflepuff energy in him - there's always something about those Hufflepuffs and their yellow and black badger behaviour. Either way, she mistook him, like many others, for a child of the sun, when in reality he was a child of Hades. She was falling for him. It was definitely the Hufflepuff effect. A few summers, when the campers were back, a few more autumns, springs and winters meeting in the hallways past curfew at Hogwarts, hauling up in Minho Park's room and attacking his bedroom in the Slytherin dungeons, simply to gross him out, passed on as days turned into weeks, months and years. They were both fourteen. They had both grown on each other. Fond. She found him fond, and vice versa. He was the first boy she took off her cardigan for, one fine December night.
He was gay.
And she knew, pulling back up the cardigan, grey, she knew. She had always known.
A hug of acceptance, tears of true comfort and a hand to hold were all that was needed to seal up the door of unwanted awkward tension. They were okay. Lillian needed time to heal, to move on, they both did. And they were okay all over again. She slowly noticed every bit of Hades in Newt ever since he came out to the public, she got to see every little endearing step of his growth, as he grew more confident in him self. He strongly reminded her of the ghost king himself, Nico Di Angelo, who she'd often watch and adore from afar , seeing him happier than ever with Apollo child, Will Solace. Not that Lillian had ever spoken to Nico, but from what she'd heard from Rhea, Percy and Annabeth Chase, head counsellor of the Athena cabin - and Percy's girlfriend, who Lillian thought was cool, definitely cooler than her brother- , the young Hades kid had been through hell, literally and metaphorically. Seeing him genuinely happy and smile was immaculate character development. And Lillian Vale definitely saw that character development in Newt Hope, a powerful demigod who was definitely someone you shouldn't mess with. Not even son of Zeus Minho Park, his best friend who had an immaculate level of sass that never failed to tie along with Percy, dared speak back at Newt. The latter was definitely the best at it. Lillian was absolutely loving this new and true form of Newt. Soon enough she found herself feeling less romantic love for Newt. A new form of platonic love was definitely blossoming. The two of them were making history like partners in crime. It was nice to have a friend.
August. It was one fine August all over again. One fine August evening when Rhea Thornewood was back at camp with the rest of the hunters again, and ranting about this new boy band she had found out about, surely an influence from punk-rock, boy band enthusiast, blue highlights and leather jacket, Thalia Grace. She'd rarely see Rhea, especially after she completed her seven years at Hogwarts and spent half her time in the Ministry of Magic, or on the hunt. Hence, each time the hunters were back, it was always good. Good times. All Lillian had in remembrance of her cousin was the little black American Curl cat , its adorable ears, which curl back like a miniature lion, Rhea had gifted her in her third year. He'd follow her around most of the time, around the Poseidon cabin and the Slytherin dungeons. Some days she'd find him asleep in the most unexpected places, or playing with her silver and green ties. He was definitely a playful bundle of joy. A strange creature indeed, but all Lillian Vale could do was fall for those neon green eyes each time. Quite an adoring sight for sore eyes. Lillian settled on naming him 'Satou'.
Above all, it was definitely strange being almost the same age as Rhea Thornewood, who used to be five years elder than Lillian, then four, then three, then two. Soon enough they would be the same age and then the latter would be the eldest. It was definitely weird.
'What was their name again?' '"Why Don't We". Four of them are here at Camp Half-Blood, while one is at Camp Jupiter for your information. Now listen to the song I'm about to play I swear you won't regret it.'
Surely, she didn't.
Listening to '8 Letters' for the first time one fine August evening, under the demand of her cousin sister, as Apollo painted the sky pink, orange and the prettiest shade of purple against the blue, dark to light to white shades, of the ocean, as Artemis brought silver and hope in the moon and the little celestials around it, was the best decision Lillian Vale ever made. That's exactly when everything took a turning point for the best part of her life. From then on, in her own pace, she took the time to listen to their songs one by one from 8 Letters on repeat, to Talk, to These Girls, to Hooked, to Trust Fund Baby, oh how the latter sent new waves of empowerment, self-confidence through every living fiber in her body the first time she listened and each time she'd listen ever so on. Raw, fresh waves. A fresh feeling she'd grow to love and embrace.
Their names were still unknown to her. She hadn't come to that phase. She was yet to know. Their faces were just faces, yet to recognise, all she knew was that one had the bluest of eyes, ever so blue the ocean, Poseidon, Percy would have been jealous.
Daniel Seavey. His name was Daniel Seavey, she had learnt. Ocean eyes, that her father would most definitely envy ,now that she'd seen them in person she was quite sure. Brunette when they'd first met at the stables, she remembers him struggling to tame his Pegasus, not even the apple in his hand did any help. Daniel Seavey was indeed lucky to have Lillian Vale there just in time with a hand full of biscuits and apples for Blackjack, and blessed with the ability to communicate with the equestrian family. It was indeed a start of something new and platonic.
'Lillian Vale'
'Daniel Seavey'
'You...Oh wait you're from Why Don't We, aren't you? I've been listening to your music since lately, and its been helping me quite a lot to keep going. Kudos, to my cousin Rhea, for demanding me.'
'Oh really?! Your cousin, did well there. I'm glad it helps. We're trying our best here too.'
Maybe it were his smile, the sense of growing confidence he carried with him, the way he spoke, that made her awkward approach to a conversation seem less clumsy. Maybe it were the little gap between his teeth that made him, him. Maybe it were the ocean eyes, the dark layers of hair that would definitely look ink black at sunset. Either way, he resembled so much of Percy. Percy with a touch of more gen-z energy. It was definitely the start of something beautiful.
It was not long before the boy with a unique voice invited her over to the Apollo cabin, where secret harmony sessions were held among his siblings. Daniel Seavey was definitely the life of the party, confidence in him threatening to ooze and unleash into the best version of him. Their shared enthusiasm for apple juice would most definitely be a core key to their friendship. It was nice to have a friend. It definitely was.
She would once in a while notice Nico Di Angelo among the crowd with Will Solace.
It was one night like that very day, when Nico Di Angelo, shy and timid, came up to her and spoke for the first time. Lillian Vale couldn't help but form fond feelings for the kid. For someone who most definitely couldn't tolerate children, the bond she knew she would have with Nico was an exception. She felt protective of him, and instantly understood why Rhea and Percy adored him. He was definitely a precious bundle of joy. It was nice to have a friend.
And then, she met Corbyn Besson. It was one fine evening in September, when she and Daniel Seavey were scurrying back to the Apollo cabin after archery practice. Scurrying to scribble down a random beat that had knocked him out of the blue, a beat that would definitely one day be legendary. They had reached cabin seven and Daniel's compartment only to find two of his siblings and a boy, in a purple top, words her dyslexia couldn't figure out straight away, written in gold, who seemed vaguely familiar, yet she was sure she had never seen around camp, singing karaoke. Daniel, being neat as OCD comprehended, was definitely screaming bloody murder, going at least eighteen octaves higher, throwing a fit over the mess they'd made and accusing them of illicit invasion. But Lillian Vale, long brown hair and bangs, brown eyes and long lashes was too busy walking down a memory lane. Oh Corbyn Besson had to pull the stunt now didn't he. Corbyn Matthew Besson, the epitome of madness and beauty, eyes that turned green in the summer, and blue in the winter, and red in the dark, had to be the one, the one to pull the stunt of singing at the top of his ever so elysian lungs, the one song that brought back the only form of euphoria she had in the mortal world.
They were just kids. Lillian, Rhea and Katrina, cousin to the prior, half-sister to the latter. They were just three broken and beautiful kids, while their parents were out partying and all they wanted was to have a time of their own. Hence, they sneaked up to the rooftop, to watch the stars, up all night. They decided, agreed, that Airplanes was definitely their song. It was their song, to pretend that airplanes in the night sky were shooting stars, where only children were allowed to make wishes, and they were indeed just kids. Airplanes was definitely their song. Airplanes hit way back home. Airplanes definitely gave little beats to her heart, ever so euphoric with waves of warm nostalgia. It was a golden feeling words could barely compose. And Corbyn Besson brought back that euphoria in the form of a new found serendipity. She was smiling. And so was he. He smiled. And giggled, not laughed, but giggled. And Lillian swore she'd never heard a prettier sound in her life, not even Newt could form such a beauty -She made a mental note to apologise to Newt before he throws yet another fit, but of course she'd forget her own reminders. Blame it on the ADHD -. She didn't have to be told twice, Corbyn Besson was definitely a son of Venus. He was definitely not from camp half-blood and the gold written on purple that felt less of a swirl pool read 'Camp Jupiter' .She was growing fond. It was definitely the start of something beautiful and endless.
From Trust Fund Baby to What Am I, the warm blanket of nostalgia it bore, campfires, smores, falling in love with someone and yourself, its emotional link to the comforting waves. She was definitely growing fond, falling in five similar yet closely different versions of love.
September. By mid September she had grown to know all their names, recognise their faces. The inside jokes.
She knew she was growing on them, all five of them, Daniel Seavey, Corbyn Besson, Jonah Marais, Jack Avery and Zach Herron. Little did she know, she was yet to be their friend, not just Daniel Seavey and Corbyn Besson but all five of them. Not just part of their fandom, limelights as they call them, but she would be their friend, and they would be hers. She remembers her fourteen year old self thinking at some point "oh this will be just another obsession that will pass". But oh how wrong she was. Friends. She was making friends.
Soon enough, Summer was almost over. Most of the campers, were preparing themselves to head back to their wizarding and mortal lives, and that included Daniel Seavey, Jack Avery, Zach Herron and Jonah Marais.
She remembers, as clear as dawn, dawn that Apollo never disappoints to shine, Daniel James Seavey, son of Apollo, inviting her over to stay over at his place, until the new semester at Hogwarts starts.
'We could practise spells at my place. If you'd like?'
And for once, she knew, she knew, she would have the slumber party she had always wanted, where she was finally not left out, finally somewhere she was not labeled the 'quiet one who never opens up', finally where her enthusiasms mattered, finally somewhere she was free to be herself. Finally a sleepover where she belonged.
She remembers smiling.
'I'd definitely like a little Californiacation'.
She knew, and she was right.
It was Daniel Seavey who got her into quidditch. Now Lillian Vale was always swift and a pro when it came to flying a broomstick. She had always had the potential. She had always lacked the interest. She had always had the insecurities, her grey cardigan clutched tightly. She had always lacked the confidence. Until Daniel Seavey and his constant pestering - 'Come on, Give it a try! Besides we need more women on the team. We all know they're the powerful ones' 'You speak like you're the quidditch captain' 'I could be the next, you never know' - and bribing, and blackmailing her into apple juice. She remembers Jungguek Jeon, one of the few people who had made an effort to get her into quidditch over the years, and current quidditch seeker of the Ravenclaw team, running up to Daniel and full on bowing down at his feet, even kissing them, thanking him like there was no tomorrow. He was definitely making quite the scene, being a complete embarrassment to the Ravens. Not that Lillian could care any less. But she did care about the Poseidon cabin's reputation. She remembers dragging her brother by the ear and down the hallway, away from the quidditch locker rooms, his complaints about pain and red ears, deliberately ignored. Future Ravenclaw quidditch captain, and roommate to Jeon, Corbyn Matthew Besson was definitely watching, looking pretty, smiling, giggling, not laughing but giggling - stupid giggle - but Lillian Vale couldn't care less. She had a brother to traumatise. He was definitely growing comfortable in his hormones. They were both growing confident. A good confidence. Dripping in confidence. And by her fifth year, the same year she had learnt her Patronus was a hound dog, she was the quidditch keeper, and one of the very best, under the leadership of Daniel Seavey.
She remembers meeting ravenclaw Samara Grace Acquilina for the first time. Tan skin, pretty waves of dark hair that settled into calm auras even the ocean failed to radiate. She was definitely ethereal, Aphrodite would have been jealous. Intimidating, yet ever so ethereal. Lillian remembers being absolutely terrified of her when she first came to camp half-blood. She was definitely cool and definitely harmless in general. Lillian longed to befriend her, but her anxieties and socially awkward demeanour held her back. The first time she spoke to her ever, was one fine winter afternoon , when the two Poseidon siblings, and the slytherin and ravenclaw quidditch captains decided to have a butter beer, at the Three Broomsticks, Hogsmeade. They were definitely not expecting to see Jonah Marais , current captain of the Gryffindor team and prefect, and Samara Grace, a ravenclaw prefect. Both future head boy and head girl next year, without a doubt. Both without a doubt coffee enthusiasts. Definitely skinny lovers, no doubt, you could hear it in the silence, on the way home, in the way they looked at each other. She was definitely the moon that guided him through the darkest of nights, allowing him to find genuine comfort in her siren's call, beautiful without a doubt, falling in too deep. It was of course, Daniel Seavey, signature playful smile and 'upto no god' etched all over it, who decided to play pretend and sit with his band mate, who most definitely looked as though he was about to murder the slytherin beater. It was definitely the Slytherin-Gryffindor tension rising. Next went Corbyn Besson, definitely polyamorous and flustered, gesturing for the two introvert siblings of the sea to join. Lillian ended up finding her seat next to Samara, clinging on to the cardigan, only to loosen her grip minutes later seeing that her awkward tension was much unwanted. She had rarely spoken to Jonah Marais in person before, her introvert self had always held her back. Not much to her surprise, he was just as comforting and sassy as how he presents himself on screen. She was definitely looking forward to more comforting conversations with Jonah Marais. And oh how her fear for Hades kid Samara Grace was unnecessary, very, very unnecessary. Samara Grace radiated the finest waves of reassurance, she held the calmness of the ocean, the white noise on thunderous summer nights. She radiated the same energy as Jonah Marais. Definitely had a way with words, pretty savage and was one not to mess with. It was the Hades energy, intermingled with the wit of a ravenclaw. Lillian Vale definitely liked that about her. And what surprised Vale the most and got them both into fits of laughter was that Samara too, at first, found Lillian Vale quite intimidating, regardless of her desire to befriend her as well - 'I thought you were too cool for me! I was scared that I might offend you' 'No way for real?! Why! I'm just plain old me' 'Oh you don't know that, Lil. "Plain old you" is pretty cool!'. It was the start of a something beautiful, reflected in a mirrorball. It was nice to have friends. Friends.
It was not so long before, Thea Jay became an important part of Lillian's life. She remembers struggling with Charms, a core subject for her O.W.L.s. She remembers hauled up in her room, by the window, book and wand in hand, attempting to memorise every single charm written and make them practical. She was definitely getting frustrated, and Thea Jay and Apollo child Yeonjun Daniel Choi were just in time, back at the dungeons with their usual very platonic battle of Who was The Best Flirt, and Thea Jay had to duck down just in time, and Yeonjun Choi had to be the victim of Lillian's misspelt charm. It was safe to say that no one was harmed, just a little transfigured. In the place of bleached and soft pink layers, in the place of fox eyes and sharp features, in the place of 1.82m tall Yeonjun Choi, stood a 1.82 inch frog, swamp green and webbed feet, little croaks that turned panicky and rapid. Miranda Goshawk's threat was becoming very real.
'Oh my gods- no no no no how- how did I end up using a transfiguration charm?! Oh no Yeonjun I'm so so sorry- '
Thea was doubled over laughing hysterically, and it was definitely not easing her panicked roommate. Nor did it ease the croaking Yeonjun, he was definitely complaining , neither had to know frog to understand.
'Thea, you're not helping!'
'I- I'm sorry, love. He's just never looked better in green'.
Another infuriated croak from Yeonjun Choi. The croaks were definitely getting on Lillian's nerves. And having to keep Satou away from attacking the frog was another challenge.
As if things weren't already bad enough, Daniel Seavey had to show up looking for his broomstick in her room - him and his stupid excuses, all he wanted was gossip.
'Whose frog is that?!'
'Apparently yours'
'Since when did I-'
'That's your roommate'
It took quite a few seconds for him to process this new information, and when he did,
'Daniel Choi my brother my roomie that you?!'
Soon enough he had joined Thea in their little world of hysteric laughs. And the Daniel who was a frog was back at croaking.
'Guys, please! Knock it off! I'm here literally two seconds away from potentially getting suspended! Or worse, expelled!'
'Kiss the frog.'
'I'm not kissing slime! You kiss him, he's your roommate'
And before either of the Daniels could argue,
'Okay okay, listen, love. No one's getting suspended. Nor expelled.'
Then she pulls out her wand - ' Dear best friend, Jun Choi, I would have let you stay like this for some time. But for the sake of my dear roommate, Lillian Vale, I will undo this curse.'
She muttered a few words, and with a wave of her wand, Yeonjun was back, in black robes, green tie, pink hair, fox eyes and 1.82 meters tall.
He definitely looked as though his inner winged-demon was about to unleash.
'Thea Jay you're lucky it was Lillian and not you.'
'Oh come on. You know I love you.'
He went back, muttering profanity, along with Daniel Seavey who was holding back all humour and comebacks. It was needless to say that Yeonjun Choi wasn't going to hear the end of it.
It was just Thea and Lillian in the room again, with Satou.
'You see there, Lils. We're all good now'.
'Wait!' she remembers clinging on to the taller girl's robes, 'Teach me'
'What?'
'Teach me charms. I don't want to fail'
And that was definitely the start of something absolutely chaotic, yet so so beautiful.
From practising charms, to passing their Ordinary Wizarding Levels together, to Samara Grace sneaking out from the Ravenclaw tower where the sixth years were, and tiptoeing into the Slytherin dungeons where all girl slumber parties were held, with just the three of them, celebrating the little joys of life, prefect duties long forgotten for the Ravenclaw and Thea, in their little room, leaving the two Daniels on guard patrol outside. From driving each other absolutely crazy, Thea mostly getting into her own shenanigans, especially with Choi Yeonjun, and Lillian and Samara having to cover everything up for them. Daniel Seavey was definitely no help and often ended up being temporally petrified, literally, by the wands of the prior two. What was life without a little chaos and crime. From the real struggle between showing affection at its finest to rarely showing affection, Lillian and Samara being the latter, while Thea was the prior, to the endless playful flirting until either of the Slytherin girls got flustered, to gay panicking over their favourite straight ally, Samara Grace. From sharing a bed instead of laying in their own, kicking the taller girl in the shins right before Lillian showered her with kisses, when no one else was looking, and going back to sleeping next to Thea, each time the Slytherin keeper was going through her feelings. A little gesture simply to show affection in her own way. From that to comforting group therapy sessions, when either Samara, Thea or Lillian was having a rough day, struggling with something on their mind. From cuddling together, in the Slytherin dungeons or the Ravenclaw tower, the Poseidon cabin or the Hades cabin, when the nights got colder, thoughts were louder and when anxieties took over, allowing the comfort they themselves built to take away all their worries, allowing the world to be okay all over again. From Thea Jay, begging, whining, complaining, wooing her way to Lillian's heart, for permission to date her brother, in the most platonic way possible, to infuriating the Slytherin keeper for days and days and days, to Thea's request - plea - being constantly rejected, to finally being accepted, and blessings given seeing how comfortable her polyamorous brother was with her equally polyamorous and aro-ace roommate as well as the latter's unlabeled Slytherin music producer boyfriend, Yoongi Min, whom Lillian Vale's younger self would dare speak to, whom Lillian Vale had grown to call him her 'potential pan bestfriend' - it gave her comfort, to know that she could have another panromantic comfort person to speak with. From Samara and Lillian baking apple cakes, lots and lots of them, only to attack Daniel Seavey right on that pretty face of his, simply as a sweet, extra sweet revenge against his constant song teasing and causing fresh phobias for question marks and the word 'soon', from that to pushing him into the canoeing lake, sometimes only to be dragged along with him, until everything was a watery mess and hysteric laughs where only genuine joy existed. From Lillian Vale swooning over Thea Jay's skateboard, to Thea herself fondly offering free skateboard lessons, to falling, quite literally, to getting up and falling, to smoothly riding her skateboard, to Thea gifting her skateboard to Lillian, internally flustering the latter, to the prior buying herself a hoverboard, to going on late night skateboard dates in Hogsmeade with Daniel Seavey and Yeonjun Choi, their favourite Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor Myul Mang, covering up for them. From Thea and Lillian being a mint-chocolate enthusiast and non mint-chocolate enthusiast, respectively, to Samara having to be the middle unbiased one, having to deal with their arguments, the slander Thea got as a mint chocolate lover, their love language, and having to hold them by the leash before either of them threw a hex at the other. From that to, Lillian having to deal with Samara and Thea and their not-so-secret gushing over professor Myul Mang whom almost every student was head over heels for. Its students like Lillian Vale who saw their eternal teacher in a platonic eye, who had to suffer among all the heart eyes. From stargazing at the quidditch field with Thea Jay, simply because the latter wasn't comfortable with the astronomy tower and its height, while listening to Lillian's stargazing mixtape, every second screaming nostalgia, and little microcosms. From fifth years ascending to their sixth year, from sixth years ascending into their seventh year, to a certain Ravenclaw prefect becoming head girl, to a certain Gryffindor prefect, resigning his quidditch duties to Thomas Murphy, impulsive best friend to Minho Park, and the boy only Newt Hope can settled and be fond of - Lillian thought they were absolutely adoring - and becoming head boy. From following her down the dungeons, stealing Thea from her prefect duties in the middle of the night, past curfew, running around the hallways, taking her places that could potentially tear up the prefect's reputation - 'This includes you too, Miss keeper of the Slytherin team!'. Lillian pretended to not hear - by virtue of Samara covering up for Lillian, the latter promising midnight snacks at the astronomy tower while they stargaze, to Thea getting extra duties from the head girl, regardless. It was all part of the playful bullying. Their little love language. They were definitely making history, definitely something beautiful. A chaos chapter that felt ever so eternal. Forever and a day. It was nice to have friends.
Soon enough she had met sweet compassionate, child of Elios and Hufflepuff Soobin Choi. He was timid and shy at first, a trait in her she saw in the fifth year prefect, but was definitely growing scarily confident by the day. He had the prettiest owl eyes that would crescent as he smiled. He smiles. A lot. He was indeed a sight for sore eyes. It was quite understandable why Yeonjun Choi was head over heels in love with the younger one, why Thea Jay would try and flirt with the boy, simply to make him flustered, why Rhea self-proclaimed him as her brother and cooed at his existence, why all critters and fantastic beasts loved him. He was a pleasant soul and without a doubt a less naïve version of Snow White. He was endearing. Soon enough she had met Beomgyu Choi. He was the definition of a disaster, a narcissist little son of Venus and fourth year in Gryffindor that carried a hand mirror everywhere he roamed and took pleasure in imitating and annoying the shit out of his best friends, Yeonjun Choi and Lillian Vale inclusive. He was definitely the epitome of self-confidence and beauty, and definitely a victim of Lillian Vale's friendly pranks, her significant way of showing affection. Next, she met third year Ravenclaw Taehyun Kang. No doubt he was a child of Athena, a genius in everything especially potions, an obvious aftermath of looking up to -,admiring, just like half the school - the infamous Jungguek Jeon. And if anyone was infuriated the most from Beomgyu Choi and his shenanigans, it was Kang Taehyun. It was yet again the love-hate tension and the constant arguing, reflecting a solid epitome of a constantly divorcing and remarrying couple. The third year had a constant habit of swearing under his breath, that without fail scared off most of his classmates, even seniors. It was definitely the anti-romantic in him, the no-affection hours in him, the Aquarius in him that aligned closely with Lillian Vale, finding a common ground. She was definitely terrified of Taehyun "Terry" Kang, but she was most definitely fond of the younger one. She remembers Taehyun, who she'd grown to call as 'Tyun' just like every one of his close friends, and coming up with the idea of their very first wand battle in the chamber of secrets with rest of their friends, teams divided as Lo$ers and Lovers, the non-affection enthusiasts like herself and Taehyun versus the affection enthusiasts like Thea and Beomgyu, just a friendly non-lethal midnight squabble, and Lillian absolutely loved the idea. Of course, it was simply to annoy Beomgyu, who only ended up loving and hating the idea at the same time. Good times. A middle person was definitely needed for Taehyun and Beomgyu's love-hatery, and in the end Lillian Vale ended up being very blessed with that position, blessed with the leash that held both lovebirds by chokehold, opening yet another chaos chapter, ever so beautiful.
She remembers her brother, all smiley, excited wide eyes, and definitely taller than her by then, rushing into the Poseidon cabin along with two more boys who she was sure she had seen before. Taehyung Kim, child of Hades, sixth year and a beater in the Hufflepuff quidditch team. He was definitely a Greek sculpture, a painting done by the hands of Van Gough himself. She remembers him, being the extrovert he is, never failing to smile and give compliments to strangers. No doubt, he was a fashion enthusiast. She remembers herself being a stranger to him once upon a time and receiving compliments on her outfit. He was the first stranger to not point out her cardigan specifically when commenting on her outfit. Above that, she'd noticed how he knew his way with people, how to avoid toxic energy, to choose his comfort crowd, with care, so well. Comfort crowd. He definitely had a strong resemblance to his half-brother, Nico Di Angelo. Lillian knew, then and there, that he would definitely be good company. Jimin Park was the other boy. He was definitely petite, ever so preciously, next to the Hades child and the son of Poseidon. She recalls seeing him among the hunters of Artemis sometimes, the only male, she recalls Rhea mention. There was no surprise to why he was an exception. The Slytherin terpsichorean was definitely the epitome of masculinity and femininity. He was definitely selene, silver, ivory, and snow. The absolute best at archery. An ethereal child of Venus, raised by Artemis. Jimin was the feminine, delicate, fragile, a soft elysian white vocal chord, touched by an angel to Taehyung's masculine symphony, the deepest blue of the ocean and its ever so soothing hum. And Jungguek definitely brought balance in between, altering ranges into perfection beyond all earthly laws. It was nice to have friends.
Soon enough, she was introduced to Seokjin Kim, Namjoon Kim and Hoseok Jung. Oh everyone knew Seokjin Kim. He was the Hogwarts heartthrob, embraced it with such love, called himself 'World Wide Handsome', and carried a mirror around him - Beomgyu had definitely picked up this trait from the seventh year prefect. It was either something among Aphrodite, Venus kids, or it was just the Gryffindor narcissism radiating at its finest. The both of them just made Lillian want to love herself, regardless of the latter still finding it difficult. Oh how little she knew. The Gryffindor prefect was definitely a five star chef - ' a bloody fair competition for Frypan Sigmund' as Newt would say. Corbyn and Yoongi and their cereal "cooking" couldn't come any close. He could cook a whole god's menu, and there was no more consoling sight than watching Seokjin cook to his self-made playlist. It was definitely comforting. But of course, no one, not even Namjoon Kim - especially not Namjoon Kim who could barely hold a knife without passing out - was allowed into the kitchen while he created the absolute best Tteokbokki dish ever to exist. And no one wanted to hear full-time vocalist Seokjin on stressed mother mode and rapping eighty syllables per second. The latter was definitely funny to watch, regardless. And Namjoon Kim was definitely a victim of Seokjin's scolding for the most of it. The Ravenclaw prefect was definitely one of the brightest among the seventh years, but he was without a doubt the worst at keeping secrets. Lillian remembers how he was the first to unintentionally reveal Taehyun's little crush on his senior, yet again the infamous Jungguek Jeon, in explicit detail right in front of the latter. The third year was definitely flustered. It was definitely the Zeus energy in him. Other than that, Namjoon was definitely comforting to talk with, and Lillian could understand why Thea and Jungguek went to get the best advice from him. She understood why Rhea looked up to him as an elder brother. And then there was Hoseok Jung. He was definitely a ray of sunshine and hope, who could make you laugh on the rainiest days, him and his brightest of smiles and enthusiasms. It was the Aquarius energy in him that caused all the betrayal in the little games they played at slumber parties. It was nice to have friends.
And then little Kai Huening came into the picture. Oh the third year was definitely a little field of dandelions that held all joys of the world and every reason to stay. The warm touch of afterglow. Daisies at sunrise, when the sun kisses them at the perfect moment. The laugh of your sister's kid. Children running along meadows, ever so green. Kai Huening was every bit of it. It was definitely the Hufflepuff warmth that made him everyone's little one. It was the Hermes blood in him that unleashed the chaos chapter in him. Him and Zach Herron were the epitome of chaos, 'The Next Weasley Twins' or 'The Next Stoll Brothers' as they like to call themselves - 'who says a Hufflepuff can't be mischievous' 'and who says a Slytherin and Hufflepuff can't be partners in crime'. Little did the seniors know, they were in for a wild ride with the best adventures with Zach Herron and Kai Huening. She remembers one time they tried to lure Namjoon into giving away the ravenclaw passcode, knowing very well the senior couldn't keep a secret. If it weren't for Samara Grace, the wiser one, Zach and Kai would have won in their little mischief madness. And little did Lillian and Samara know, Zach Herron would be their favourite third year to pull pranks on the rest of their friends, especially Daniel Seavey. And soon enough, Jack Avery would be the person Lillian would go to for free therapy, painting each other's nails, trying on the most rebellious outfits, dresses, lots and lots of dresses, and doing makeovers in the middle of the night. It was nice to have friends.
Lillian Vale had friends. She had friends.
The Nastily Exhausting Wizarding Test.
Lillian Vale remembers being in a dark spot. Seventh year was definitely no fun, with every one of her peers being hauled up in the library or their chambers, and she was definitely missing Samara and Jonah after they graduated, leaving Thea and Yeonjun responsible, in the most chaotic way possible, as head girl and head boy. Samara and her words of wisdom, platonic coffee dates with Jonah, that would only intensify jealousy in professional therapists. She was definitely missing them. She was in a dark place. A really really dark spot. While everyone else was busy engrossed in a book, she remembers just taking a ten minute break to recall the good times she made with her friends at Hogwarts and in camp half-blood, to re-watch Why Don't We's old video clips, simply to give her twitching eyebrow a break, to silence her rising anxieties, simply to smile all over again and find her heart beat. She remembers one time having a quite unstabling panic attack, alone in her room, out of stress for her N.E.W.T.s. She was shaking and couldn't focus on her breath nor the study material in front of her. Tears prickled at the corners of her brown eyes, reddening, burning in the uneasiest way possible. She remembers running her trembling fingers into her brown hair, cut in short layers that reached her shoulders, the final layers bleached and dipped in the colours the galaxy possessed, holding on the strands in a tight painful grip. A silent cry escaping her quivering lips, losing her heart beat all over again, forgetting what breathing felt like all over again. She remembers just pushing away all the books in front of her away and reaching to play their songs, their music.
"Oh this would be another obsession that would pass". Her fourteen-year-old self was so so wrong!
It helped. It helped almost instantly. She felt so much at ease. She remembers, oh so well, the mixtape shuffling from one song to the other, from Just to See You Smile to Don't Change, and so on the list went as it pleased. She was feeling better and the world seemed okay all over again.
Maybe it was the instant serotonin boosts the five of them never failed to radiate. Maybe it were their smiles that radiated so much warmth and winter fire, their little giggles that sent waves of euphoria, the harmonies, the absolutely beautiful five voices that blend together creating tunes beyond all elysian laws, beyond this world's existence. Maybe it was the endless love they shared for music. Maybe it were the positive words they said every time, the good energy, the manifestation. Maybe it were the lessons they taught her. To keep going. To drip with confidence. To love and prioritise herself. To care for herself too, the same way she did for her loved ones. Either way, she knew, she had always known, deep down, that they were not "just an obsession" that will pass. They were more than that. They had grown to be more than that. She had become fond of them with each song, with each video clip of them, each memory she made with them and their goofy behaviour, with each speech of nothing but love for their dear loved ones, including their fans. Either way, they were five endearing pieces to Lillian Vale's puzzle, that she finally, finally found.
She remembers that very day, going through the book where she wrote down positive quotes uttered by countless people, or sometimes, random self-made quotes. She flipped through the pages, one by one and smiling, realising that during the last three years, most of those quotes were from the five of them. Starting from what all five of them, as a band, said, about how school - muggle schools more specifically - can be tough, how the 'popular crowd' was merely a temporary title, and to just find yourself with a group of people who genuinely accept you for you. She was instantly reminded of Lucy Hearthstone. When you are young, they assume you know nothing. But Lillian knew Lucy, and she knew how she was only struggling to fit in with the 'popular crowd', confusing Lillian, confusing herself. Lucy went chasing two directions instead of one and lost the one. Lucy Hearthstone lost a friend.
She remembers gently closing the book filled with words that could touch hearts. She remembers closing the book and locking eyes with the little paper notes she'd attached to her cupboard in the dungeons. She had a few more back at the Poseidon cabin. She was smiling. There , in her cursive writing, were more positive words. Her eyes first meet with the most recent one Jonah had said, in a Howler - "You bring something to the world that no one else does". She was smiling. Her brown eyes instantly switch back to her study notes, where she had scribbled down more encouraging words, at the back and in the corners, just to keep her going. The whole speech Zach, little Hermes kid Slytherin fourth-year Zach Herron ranted about occupying yourself with something, anything, that makes you happy without staying in bed with all those circulating negative energy. The beautiful speech Jack Avery, Hades kid and fifth-year Hufflepuff, gave on anxiety, how to cope with it, and that it's okay to not be okay. There's just much much more to that. She was smiling.
They all kept her alive through her N.E.W.T.s. Through her darkest times. Through her struggles and anxieties.
And if not in person, their soothing words, music, and the absolutely beautiful, chaotic but beautiful, memories kept her alive, as though a little heartstring of hers were attached to them, that held so much telepathy, as though they heard her call. And as the song says, they came out of nowhere like a hurricane. They found her. She found them. At the right time, when she needed them the most.
They helped her find her comfort crowd.
Comfort. What a splendid word.
Comfort was definitely there. Comfort, fondness and the eight letters she ever so dared say.
It was there in the group therapies they had together, where mental health was never a taboo subject, where stereotypes were never normalised, holding onto each other in a warm reassuring group hug when at least one was having an absolutely terrible day. It was there in the first time they ever saw her cry. In the playlists made specifically for each other. It was in the large comfortable blanket that wrapped each and every one of them, that screamed togetherness forever and a day. It was there in the rebellious teen things they did together, in the late night skateboarding tours, in the midnight squabbles at the chamber of secrets, in getting lost for five days that only felt like one hour in the Lotus Casino and having Percy and Thalia save their arses and covering up for them. It was in the late night parties at the Dionysus cabin that drove everyone into a drunk daze. It was in the genuine enthusiasm they shared at their loved ones' success, in the genuine happiness at every winning.
It was there in Rhea Thornewood. In the nights they pretended airplanes in the night sky were like shooting stars, in the first day she brought her to camp half-blood, the day she made her listen to '8 Letters' for the first time, the day she introduced her to her comfort band. It was there in Jungguek Jeon, in all their sibling wars, in making attempts to push the other from their broomstick when slytherin and ravenclaw were having a match, the first time they met and spoke at the Poseidon table, in the study sessions they'd have together when she was struggling with potions while he was good at it - the future potion master indeed. It was there in Percy Jackson, the first time he had warmly welcomed her with open arms. It was there in Samara Grace, in her encouraging words, in her enthusiasm to do just about everything, in the absolute best plans they came up together simply to cause a little playful chaos, in the little tours up to the astronomy tower simply to have midnight snacks, in the random conversations they would have together about life in general, in her voice that held the calmness of the ocean, the kiss of the sun, her voice that synced ever so well with the guitar she was emotionally attached to. It was there in Thea Jay, her reassuring words that gave new waves of emotional support, in kicking her in the shins only to replace them with kisses and cuddles seconds later, in their endless fight over mint chocolate enthusiasm, in holding onto her like a lifeline when she taught her to skate, in holding hands as they ran along the hallways of Hogwarts at three a.m., in the light pink skies that turned orange, blue, yellow and purple when the sun sank down as they sat together in silence on rooftops. It was there in Beomgyu Choi, whom she'd grown to call as 'Gyu', in his attempts to annoy her, in her attempts to pull a playful prank on him, in the little platonic insults they'd throw at each other - 'You're a piece of beautiful trash!' 'Oh yeah? Well you're a piece of beautifool tash.' 'Hey!' -, in each time either of them would knock loudly on the Slytherin dungeon or the Gryffindor tower and would make a dramatic entrance, like an uninvited guest at a party, like the fairy queen Maleficent - giving Seokjin Kim quite the scare at the Gryffindor tower-, only to look for the other for late night cuddles, simply because they were concerned about the other and longed not to be alone on insecure nights. It was there in Taehyun Kang, in his enthusiasm to show her new things he discovered everyday, in the potion lessons he'd give her and she'd watch simply to satisfy him, not because she was finding the lesson difficult - definitely the future future potion master-, it was there even in the non-affection hours with Taehyun Kang. It was there in the late night conversations by the ocean with Newt Hope, about his insecurities, his strengths, his gay thoughts, his Tommy. It was there in Minho Park and the endless arguments with Thomas, his endless sass only Newt can beat, in the secret playlists filled with less threatening songs he'd keep to himself only Lillian knew. It was there in Huening Kai and his chaos chapters and endless love for plushies. It was there in Taehyung Kim, his genuine fashion advice and fond smiles . It was there in the rays of hope Hoseok forever attempted to radiate, in the encouraging words and compliments he'd share without fail, simply to put a smile on his loved ones' faces, simply because seeing them happy makes him happy. It was there in Yoongi Min and his direct motivations, in the comfort space he'd build for his loved ones. It was there in Yeonjun Choi and his endless flirting battles, his passions. It was there in Soobin Choi, in his compassion and growing confidence. It was there in Jimin Park and little efforts to make his friends laugh, by throwing little aegyo stunts, in the constant arguments he'd love to have with Jungguek - to which sometimes Lillian would join and of course take sides with Jimin-, as revenge for the younger one's pranks, - 'Jungguek copies me!' 'You only say that because I was born in Busan after you' 'Nah I'm with Jimin-' 'Oh of course you are with him, Lils!' 'Tell that to the turquoise highlights that you deliberately copied from me' 'That was a coincidence-' 'In conclusion, Jungguek Jeon copies everyone' 'SIGH! I give up! You two are responsible for my emotional damage'. It was there in Seokjin Kim and his cooking and his efforts to make his loved ones smile and laugh when they are at their worsts, like that time Lillian first came out to him and his first response was 'I got you a watermelon...'Cause you're fruity' and Lillian swore that that was the best coming out reaction she'd ever got. Soon enough they were both in fits of laughter. It was there in Namjoon Kim and his comforting words of wisdom, even in the secrets he could barely keep. It was there in Nico Di Angelo and the small talk, that eventually grew longer, he'd have with Lillian while they'd share French fries only from McDonald's, in the rare genuine smiles he'd give. It was also in professor Myul Mang. Lillian Vale remembers quite well feeling intimidating and overwhelmed under those fox eyes as a first year. She was too busy feeling taken aback to notice the fondness he carried around him with his smile. It was not until her second year she actually had a proper conversation with him. She was having another episode of going through her body insecurities by herself, her grey cardigan feeling ever so interesting against her skin, old unremovable scars replaying painfully in her mind like post trauma syndrome. The immortal professor ended up being the only one to hear her back then. She remembers him taking his seat next to her petite self in the astronomy tower, listening, without a word, to her silent cries, giving her the time to find him reassuring, trusting, giving her all the time in the world to open up until she eventually did. She remembers him being quiet for quite a while until he smiled ever so gently and saying that he understood her. Twelve-year-old Lillian remembers thinking that she had never heard a more genuine confession - maybe he too had history. She remembers knowing then and there that professor Myul Mang was an important figure in her life. It was definitely there in professor Myul Mang.
And it was definitely there in the warm tight embraces, even in the ghostly hugs of the five boys that saved her, that pulled her up, gave her a second chance in life.
It was there in Daniel Seavey, in his apple juice enthusiasm, in his endless love to tease music, in being attacked with homemade apple cake and pushed into the nearest body of water, in the late night cuddles he'd have with Lillian, when at least one of them were going through their anxieties, sometimes the whole band would end up cuddling the two of them in the Apollo cabin. One night she remembers the whole lot of their group of friends, all twenty-five of them, invading the two Apollo Daniels' room in the Slytherin dungeons. Good times. It was there in the twenty instruments Daniel Seavey had learnt to play by ear, the archery practices together, the late night karaoke sessions. It was there in his paintings, his blossoming fond sentiments for mortal, absolutely ethereal Franny Arrieta. It was there in the platonic coffee dates with Jonah Marais, where his inner Athena would surface, in his reassuring smile that could only be found in the afterglow, in his comforting words, in his support for his loved ones. It was in the therapy sessions with Jack Avery, in the therapy sessions inclusive of painting nails and making flower crowns while blasting 'Boys in Pink', therapy sessions that Jack Avery preferred to call 'swagism therapy with Jack Avery', in his dad jokes to which only Seokjin would find funny most of the time. It was definitely the Hades energy that brought out the inner rebel and the Hufflepuff that gave comfort. It was in the endless chapters of mischief madness with Zach Herron, in his new discoveries, in his simple pleasures like annoying his bandmates, especially Jack Avery, and unintentionally pissing off Corbyn Besson for never being punctual. It was in Corbyn Besson, in the first time she heard him sing Airplanes, in their random attempts to flirt with each other in the middle of a quidditch match, in the conversations they'd have about space up in the astronomy tower, just the two of them. Oh he could go on and on about his most favoured planet, Kepler452B, and she'd listen, he'd get flustered and mutter an unnecessary apology for ranting, and she'd dismiss his apology, encouraging him to go on, not only because he loved to talk and talk and talk, but because he wanted her to know, but because listening to him was one of her favourite things in the world, him and his tattoos, him and his voice, him and his bass, him and his comforting words, him and his little giggles that never stopped giving little jumps to her heart and fresh waves of euphoria. He kept her heart alive, beating, beating, beating. The feeling just never stopped. Not once since she met him for the first time, being the epitome of madness and beauty, not when he dyed his blonde hair an ever so dark shade of brown. It was there.
It was there in the first underwater kiss they shared.
Its been a while since she had fallen, fallen in love, the feeling, a serendipity, a risk. Maybe it was the demisexual in her that held her back. Maybe it were the trust issues. Either way, it had been a while since she got lost back in wonderland since Newt. Not until that very moment, holding onto Corbyn Besson, below the aquatic surface of the canoeing lake, in too deep, in their camp half-blood and camp Jupiter shirts, as though he were her dear lifeline, which he was. She heard it in the silence, the hum in the waves, the water that surrounded the two. She saw it in his eyes, his smile. She felt it in every fiber of her skin, where he held onto her, as though she was his dear lifeline, which she was. She could hear it in his little giggle, his stupidly endearing giggle, that gave reason for her heart to function, a reminder that her heart beat never stopped, ever since they first met. She felt it, saw it, heard it all over Corbyn Matthew Besson, his tattoos that made galaxies dance with envy, in the stars in his eyes - those little drops of Jupiter, those Venus eyes that turned frost blue in the winter, and a spring green in the summer, and the deepest shade of blue under water. Those same eyes that wondered, observed the world, his dear ones, with every form of love, as though they held so many unspoken words that only his shyness heard - that Lillian would always, always count in secrecy, reaching infinity plus one.
She knew.
And when they looked at each other, like they were about to kiss, she knew.
She knew it was definitely not something in the water, but just them, them and their unspoken thoughts yet to be said.
She knew, it was the best underwater kiss, not even Percy and Annabeth could surpass.
She knew.
She was in love again.
When home stops being a place and becomes a person, when it becomes people. It was nice to have a comfort crowd. Comfort crowd.
Eight letters.
She loved them. Love, love, love!
She loved them all so much.
She was ready to love again.
She took off the grey cardigan.
She was ready to love again.
I like the view right now.
Yesterday, she felt stuck, void of light, the path less unfolded and black and misty in front of her, a mirrorball reflecting every version of her anxieties : uncertain, suppressed, closeted, her life before camp half-blood.
Yesterday, she was alone. Alone among a crowd of false laughter and smiles that seemed unreal. They were unreal. The grass on the football field. People, mortals, muggles, all made out of metal.
Yesterday, she had no family. Yesterday, she had no real friends. Yesterday, she had no comfort crowd.
But that was all yesterday.
I like the view right now.
September.
It was one fine September evening.
Her mind floated, on the blowing leaves, in the blue sky where white clouds danced like a submarine swim, before gently settling back on the view, the view finally more of a sight for sore eyes. She kept seeing them. She was back at the Dionysus cabin, tank top - the prettiest shade of green -, fishnet gloves, that she had definitely not stolen from Beomgyu Choi, and black ripped jeans -, and absolutely in love with every little imperfection that made her so so perfect, her dyslexia, her ADHD -, a few months after graduation, with them.
Oh she would have been lost in a crowded room with fake friends, if she had never met them.
Her comfort crowd.
Jungguek Jeon, her brother. The first introvert stranger that made an attempt to speak with her, her first company, and his band mates, Taehyung Kim, Seokjin Kim, Yoongi Min, Hoseok Jung, Jimin Park and Taehyung Kim.
Newt Hope, the first boy she could call a friend. Him and his boyfriend, son of Neptune Thomas Murphy, and the sassy Minho Park.
Beomgyu Choi, the first Gryffindor who taught her that having a little extra self-love won't do any harm, the first Venus kid who brought out the little harmless narcissism in her and let her own it, and his band mates, Taehyun Kang, Soobin Choi, Yeonjun Choi, and Kai Huening.
The ravenclaw and slytherin, who were the firsts to know her identity when she'd figured it out, the firsts to see the shade of lavender and purple in her that everyone else failed to see, the first two, who, after a long long battle with internalised trust issues, she settled on calling her best friends, and for once the term felt right. Samara Grace, shifting gracefully, like the moon that makes space for the sun and vice versa, between blue and white - blue, the deep marine blue, that deep blue right before descending to the darkest shade, the deep blue that barely passes the lighter code. White, when waves crash against the sand, a golden ring etched to its purity. Thea Jay, yellow, the softest yellow out there, sometimes white, and sometimes a summer green, melancholy yet summery and bright, but not too bright, sun-kissed, sun-kissed yellow over a field of dandelions and daisies.
Rhea Thornewood. The very first person who brought her comfort through all her existence. Her sister. The person she'd forever be thankful for, for saving her, for holding onto her, for finding her not one but two places to call home, for introducing her to Daniel Seavey, Corbyn Besson, Jonah Marais, Jack Avery, and Zach Herron, her comfort band. Her comfort band.
Daniel Seavey, Corbyn Besson, Jonah Marais, Jack Avery and Zach Herron. The five elysian made lost pieces to her, that she finally finally found. The five limelights, who picked her up and said she was their favourite limelight when she felt like an old cardigan under someone's bed, who her life very much needed, and vice versa. Her dear comfort friends, who came out of no where like a hurricane. Who gave her the happiest years of her life. Who made her favourite beats, music, songs. Who built her self-confidence, oh how her younger self would have watched in awe and baffle at the amount of confidence that dripped from her. Who helped her cope with her anxieties, unwanted insecurities and phobias. Who gave her reason to keep going and live. Who helped her accept herself and her identity. Who helped her find her comfort people, her true true friends. Who built families, who built her family, who became her family. Who guided her through the right path. Who she was beyond thankful for existing and for being her serendipity and the cause of her euphoria.
'Am I dreaming?'
A comfort crowd.
It was that beautiful. They were all broken - beautifully broken - fixers who severely needed fixing, who finally found each other, at the proper time, at the best time the universe could alter for them. Scattered broken pieces who eventually found the other and the other and another, building an entire family of misfits, healing each other.
Lillian Vale was left speechless, unable to move, yet ever so refreshed at the thought.
It was that beautiful.
Yesterday felt so stuck. But today, she was feeling fresh, ever so fresh waves of comfort, void of her past frustrating sentiments.
Yesterday, she didn't know the road in front of her. Yesterday was dark, simply because she found it quite difficult to let go, it drained her in every possible way, her emotional scars.
Today she felt comfortable, euphoric, warm. She felt the winter fire, the sun's kiss that follows every spring rain, coffee by the autumn lake, just about anything and everything summery, not just within herself but among a bunch of people who she could safely call home. She liked it, she loved it, and knew she'll never let go of the feeling today.
It was that beautiful.
She was smiling.
I like the view right now.
The view was dystopian, until she found her fond five missing pieces, who were thriving as the main characters of today's event, in the Dionysus cabin, celebrating their five years together as a band, half a decade of saving lives.
It was Corbyn Besson who had offered her the aux, to make yet another mixtape that did wonders, and screamed magic, as always. She and Rhea got together to curate.
Yesterday, back then, the place used to be vast like a desert. But today, now it was a wide field where Lillian Vale desired to run on. She could see the different colours in this place, among the family she found, where big and small futures were blossoming, alive and breathing.
Next to them, little Tasotti Nakamura was there, impatiently bouncing on their tiptoes requesting a long list of legendary rhapsodies by Queen. For a child of the roman god Mercury, they surely had rainbow hearts and fluttery admiration for Freddie Mercury, which everyone found adorable, especially Phillip Speaçar, a theater kid who had a lot to offer, believed in unlabeled rights, and most definitely loved to imitate Beomgyu with his hand-mirror of his own and dark wolf-bangs. His sibling, Sony Speaçar, had self-proclaimed her as the curator of the DJ set, to which no one argued. Her best friends, astronomy enthusiast Hecate child, Fae Ahn and, modernised hanbok loving ravenclaw, Hyewon Han were up front to support her. Adrian Hudah was in charge of brewing the drinks. As a son of Dionysus, the god of vine himself, he was the most flexible and trustworthy with what they'll be succumbing down. Russian kid and son of Ares, Yurio Plisetsky, Katrina Thorenwood - younger half-sister to Rhea-, daughter of Hades, and Nico Di Angelo were right behind Tasotti, waiting to request, demand, their preferences. She definitely saw Soobin hovering around them too. It was needless to say that he had a few Bebe Rexha songs in mind. And there was, son of Janus, Felix Lee playing UNO, just for old times sake, with Yeonjun and seven of the soft-freckled hufflepuff's friends, -'potential band mates' as Lee would say - whom Lillian was yet to meet - , and deliberately failing in the good old card game.
She was definitely growing fond of them, the fresh faces.
She was growing to love again.
The troubles that hovered around her yesterday, now gone, departed as soon as the gentle wind kissed her and she had followed, eight years ago. All she was filled with were visions that welcomed her anew. She was full, full, full. There were no steep hills left, and she was running comfortably, the wind spreading throughout all cardinal points, giving reason for her heart to beat, welcoming her, branches reaching out to her, giving her reasons to stay.
"Cheers to five years of Why Don't We"
Everything was difficult back then. No matter how much she waited. At that time, she would only find herself bumping into a blank wall, amidst the dizzy mess that happened to be her own mind. The wind blew through the dust and took it away, far away and towards the right people, where she would be okay, genuinely okay, wherever she went.
The rough and tiring typhoon had passed, and now she was able to see a thousand miles in front of her pretty brown eyes.
"Cheers to the good times and the bad ones".
Lillian Vale's vision was clearer.
I like the view right now.
Lillian Vale loved the view right now.
* * * * * *
~end~