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So what I’m taking from the mix-tape spoilers is that a few episodes ago, Dean was a thirteen year old girl, worried about his mom not texting back, and now he’s giving mix-tapes like a late-teen to early-twenty-year-old who wants to share his feelings but doesn’t have his own words yet.
Holy moly, that’s a lot of emotional growth! He’s actually growing at about the same rate Amara did last season, I think.
Interesting, yes?
His emotional growth might actually catch up with his real age soon. Possibly by the end of this season, but more likely next season.
Here’s a convenient list of films with mix-tapes in them: https://letterboxd.com/soundturnedlow/list/i-made-you-a-mixtape-mixtapes-cds-in-film/
Im still living in the shadow of 2012's Pokemon piece. I fear I peaked there. But At least it gave me more freedom in the recent years to do more collage.
The last christmas for the boys before the defection.
December that year was hard on Felipe, hell the whole year was. Arpeggio could see it in the languid lines of his shoulders, the often distracted answers, forgetting things. Even coloring his hair was lazy these days, a flat red color for the last couple months.
He was just....tired.
"Fel?"
"Hm??"
"...never mind."
Arpeggio was trying to clear time for them to enjoy the holidays but it was hard. As the illustrious Trancer 42, the hardest of busts and the most important of control situations usually went to them. Gigs for election rallies. World series games. Tree lighting ceremonies being lined up like figurines in a collection. He could reduce their office hours to only clocking in on gigs but even that felt exhausting. Arpeggio had to admit it to himself one day as he glanced in the bathroom mirror.
Darkened circles beneath his eyes told a story of little restful sleep. Even he felt his skin was paler than a clump of snow.
"Jesus, I look like death warmed over," he said to his reflection. He recalled that Felipe had the same signs of exhaustion, and sighed.
"We both do."
~~~
Felipe lay across their couch that night, languid arm over his eyes as Arpeggio was making dinner. Despite the fact they had made it back earlier than usual, 6 pm, it felt like 10 to the both of them.
"Fel, how much bacon do you want on this sandwich?"
"Uh...whatever," he replied. His voice had the husk of soreness.
He came out of the kitchen and set 2 plates with large sandwiches on their coffee table. The faux redhead didn't even bother getting up for nearly a minute.
Arpeggio chewed his slowly as he spaced out by watching their window. It had begun to rain, and the light caught the streetlights. Amber beads rolled down the dark window.
"Pege," whispered Felipe.
"Yes...?"
"I'm...I'm tired." His voice sounded just....dead.
Used to deeper meanings to even the simplest of words, the Tchaikovsky's Child put his sandwich down and looked at his partner. Feeling there is more, he stayed quiet.
"I....I'm tired. I'm so damn tired." His whisper had a small hitch in it.
Arpeggio got up and sat next to him on the floor. He, after nearly 16 years with someone who wore his emotions on his sleeve, still had trouble trying to find the right actions, words, or even music to communicate. His shoulder rested gently against Felipe, the physical contact was what he hoped was the "right" response. It bothered Arpeggio. That he constantly had to question which responses to people, especially people close to himself, were "correct".
His partner moved his arm, looked down at Arpeggio who stared at him with his usual placid face though the eyes were concerned. He took a deep breath and sighed.
"I'm sorry. ...I shouldn't complain. You've been tired too." He reached over and brushed some of his jet black hair from his forehead. "You look practically clear these days, Pege." He gave a half-hearted chuckle. "You're gonna look like the visible man if you're not careful."
Arpeggio took his hand and gave it a squeeze. "Fel. You don't have to pretend. Not around me. Please. Its....its heartbreaking...."
It was the last word that got Felipe. That he used the word "heartbreaking". His face quickly crumpled and he took a deep, shuddering breath before he started to cry. It wasn't body wracking, but it was so full of despair.
The fact he's so tired that he can't even cry as hard as he can see he wants to hurts Arpeggio to the core. He gets off the floor to hold him, and he just pulls him into his embrace. They sit in the living room, food cooling, just holding each other. The raven-haired musician cried to himself too. He couldn't tell if it was because he too felt so despairing and tired....or if he was feeling Felipe's emotions right through him. Felipe ended up crawling into bed, and Arpeggio wrapped their dinners up, setting them next to the last 2 nights of dinner half eaten. He crawled into bed behind him, and they both fell asleep.
Arpeggio wept softly, holding Felipe. It was a long, hard night.
~~~
They took the next 2 weeks off, and while Emi gave them a lot of grief over it, when Arpeggio told her it was final and set their armbands and badges on her desk, she accepted it with a grumble. It was for show but it was a show she bought.
"She works through every holiday, even Christmas," Felipe muttered. "She ain't human, I swear."
"Agreed. Now let's clean up the desks, we won't be back til after New Years." Their office was pretty clean anyhow, but they packed up a few things from the desks. Felipe was packing a secret, small, frankensynth into a box that Arpeggio pretended not to see, then stopped. Like a jump cut, his body language changed from lighthearted if tired, to exhausted and completely drained. His face was anguished. He leaned on his desk, his head bent down as his flyaway hair obscured his eyes. Small tears began to hit the desk.
"Fel?" Arpeggio asked, his voice really concerned.
"Its...its not even done," he says between sobs.
"...What...isn't?"
"Your...your song. I haven't gotten a single thing...not a single note." He cried, softly, so no one would hear. "I haven't gotten a single thing done....and I've tried. I've tried so damn hard, Pege...but....nothing. Nothing comes out."
Arpeggio takes a few seconds to let it sink in before he sets this box on the other desk and pulls him into another embrace. He can't recall a recent time when he's felt he's had to hold Felipe so often. Even his last nightmare cycle didn't require the amount of reassuring he had been doing lately.
Or was he trying to reassure himself? That by holding him, it would make things better, even for a short amount of time?
Or was he trying to keep his partner from falling to pieces?
"Let's go home, Fel. We're tired."
Felipe nodded, dried his face, and after a few breaths, seemed to be calmer. But the depressed aura around him hadn't evaporated, even a little. If anything, it felt as if it had grown thicker.
~~~
Felipe let himself feel inconsolable for the next day or so. Arpeggio could finally see how hard he must have been working to pretend he was just fine, if tired from the month, to everyone else. Even to Trancer 8392. Enough to even fool Tungsten. He tried to get to the laptops, his synths, to try to get something out but he'd simply sit there and stare at the machines, his eyes faraway.
Arpeggio ended up entirely scrapping the song he had started himself. He admitted privately as he shredded the music sheets, that he hadn't liked a single thing he'd put down. He kept working, as if it would resolve itself but it wasn't until Felipe had his small anxiety over his that he realized it wasn't really what he wanted to do with it.
They moped around the apartment for a few days, listlessly going about the motions of living, but neither of them really spoke much. They gave up on the music for the time being. It was the first time Arpeggio actually felt a rut he couldn't escape from. Something told him that while it wasn't Felipe's first rodeo, this also wasn't a normal occurrence.
Christmas Eve, they were sitting in the living room, instruments on the table. They had been sitting next to each other, and everything had been listless, unproductive work.
Felipe finally cut to the chase, his voice deadened. "You think...we're tapped? Like...this is it? We're...we're through?"
Arpeggio's heart skipped a few beats because he isn't sure what Felipe means by the word "through". He looked at his partner and the alarm in his eyes must have made Felipe rethink what he said because his black eyes blinked in surprise.
"Not us," he said rushed. "I mean....us. Music. I mean. Work is...work." He tried motioning with his hands. "Work...you don't think, you just...do what they say you do, with the pieces they give. Doesn't feel like making music. So I don't mean that. I mean...making music...." He drifted off because he was frustrated that he can't articulate what he means.
But its something about what he said that made the TC put his hands up.
"Work...you don't think, you just...do what they say you do, with the pieces they give."
Felipe stopped talking. Waited.
Arpeggio can hear it in his mind's ear. He couldn't pinpoint the actual "when" it had started but he could hear it clearly. When Trancer 42 had started, Felipe would bend the rules, bend the samples, making music but toeing the line between sanctioned Music Corps work and music. There was life in their pieces, its what made them recognized, efficient....untouchable it seemed.
Then....after a long, long time...Felipe's hand was left deft. More automatic, almost robotic. Like the children's game where someone starts a gesture and everyone follows in such a way so that eventually you can't tell who started and who's just miming, he couldn't tell if it was the Corps "style" from his own training leaking into their style, or if he was taking cues from Felipe.
But at some point....Trancer 42 stopped making music...and had deftly fallen into line.
"...you just...do what they say you do, with the pieces they give."
This isn't the Felipe he knew. Not anymore.
"When...did we stop making music...?"
Felipe KNEW exactly what he was asking because he himself was questioning it. By the time he was able to notice....they'd been playing the MC's tune so long he couldn't tell when it started.
His face had a look of recognizing, melancholy, and something like relief. "...Its...its not just me then." It wasn't even a question. It was a statement.
They say it at the same time, as if rushing to reassure the other: "I'm sorry." It quiets them for a long time.
Then, as if something in Felipe woke up after a long sleep, he snapped, "Well fuck that." He took up one of the laptops and started on his music making program.
Arpeggio watched him for a bit before his partner glanced at him.
"What? Ain't we gonna jam?"
Arpeggio could see the barest of glimmers of that spark in his eye. He gave him a small smile.
"At least hook something up to record it."
It wasn't the most ideal Christmas, and the both of them knew something had changed. Maybe something had changed so much that going back to the days they couldn't remember was now impossible. But even Arpeggio knew something had changed. Not between them, just around them.
A few months later, Arpeggio was staring at his partner, his face facing the window as they watch police cars finally pull away from their latest bust. He's putting his violin back in its case after tuning it.
"I don't want to do this anymore."
They were the words he was expecting to hear. He had a script to say, he knew what he had to do to defer this urge. He knew what he was trained and told to say to keep him in the Music Corps, what he had to do to protect the Corps, protect its integrity, its grip on the world, at the cost of running their best musicians into the ground.
He's never told Felipe since they ran that he wasn't trying to see his resolve in leaving; he was planning this moment since that Christmas Eve. He just never thought he'd be doing it the way it turned out.
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Hey guys, been working on moving the series to a dedicated website, I’ll keep you all updated, but until then, here’s a sequel to the Early Water Side A halloween special.
The “morning” after Felipe and Arpeggio’s lives changed forever.
Felipe opened his eyes in the middle of the night. He hadn't been dreaming, but he had been sleeping. He couldn't see his clock but he could see the light of the sky from the window. It was still dark. Not yet that lightening deep indigo, the one he used to dub a "3 hour sky". Felipe, the sometimes lazy bedbug he liked to be, often preferred to sleep in well past 9 am, and would sometimes wake up on fitful nights only to roll over and go back to sleep. He refused to keep a clock in his room, as it would only remind him of what time he had left before he had to rise. But a glance at the sky could often tell him how many hours it would be before sunrise. A 3 hour sky would mean he had about 3 hours before needing to wake in the early morning, like 8 am.
The sky was far darker than a 3 hour sky, and he knew he hadn't been asleep long. He glanced next to him, where Arpeggio has curled against him. His arms were wrapped around him loosely.
It seemed the last few hours were something of a long dream. Their long coming spring. He replayed the moments in the elevator. In his bedroom. The heart rending pain yet overwhelming relief.
It was like a dream come true, a dream he hadn't even known he ever had. The end of a long, long fall. A fall so long that he'd never even realized he had been falling in the first place. And when he hit the bottom....the pain was soon outmatched by the love that was gained.
Arpeggio stirred a little in his sleep. Felipe of course had slept in the same room with his partner before, on gigs and other missions. They'd even shared a bed once or twice when lodgings were cheap. But now he was holding him. He was warm, and in the dim light from the city lights in the window, his alabaster skin seemed almost translucent. Like an opal. His jet black hair, tousled out of place from last night's events, looked like crow's feathers. Arpeggio always swept his hair back, keeping it neat with product and constant smoothing back. If he had any nervous habits, it was the tendency to smooth his hair down often. In its natural state, Felipe liked the look of his hair. It had layers to it that were generally unnoticed in his usual style. He never really noticed, and part of Felipe regretted it. The other part of him seemed content. He could take his time discovering him.
He rolled to his side to pull him closer and the young TC opened his eyes. Like perfect sapphires. It was hard for Felipe not to find himself lost in them.
"Yes...?" Arpeggio whispered softly. He wasn't used to being gazed at like this, not this close, but this time, Felipe's penetrating gaze didn't make him want to turn away.
His partner fumbled with words suddenly, his face reddening slightly. He sighed and leaned his forehead against his. "You're...just so frickin' beautiful."
The TC pulled his face back with a look of pure confusion. It was adorable. "Wh-what?? Isn't that something you say to a woman?"
He chuckled and ran his fingers though the jet black hair. "I say it when its true."
"Romance doesn't seem to be your strong point either. How is it that you bedded so many with such cheesy lines?"
"Hey, I'll have you know guys and chicks love my cheesy lines."
He gave a small scoffing noise but there was the barest of smiles on his lips. "This...."
"This...?"
"This....is going to be...different, isn't it?" His voice was barely a whisper.
"...Yeah.... It is. And...its gonna be hard for both of us. I mean...you're gonna be feeling shit you've never felt before. And people are...prolly gonna treat you different."
Arpeggio was quiet as he glanced off past his partner's shoulder. "...I don't...really care how people treat me."
"I know. But I wanted to make sure you knew. There are people who used to fear you; maybe they'll see you as going soft. Maybe there are people who used to idolize you; maybe they'll see you as fallen and debased, or maybe they'll think you're even more attractive. I dunno, maybe I'm just talking out my ass, and maybe I'm flattering myself, but there are even gonna be people who'll think you're associating below you. That I'm going to ruin you....and...and, I don't...want you to feel bad about that or...."
Felipe realized he was talking faster and faster, his voice trembling. That dark fear bloomed over him again. Or maybe...maybe you won't want to be with me anymore....
Arpeggio reached out and touched his face. He could feel Felipe's fear in his chest, and it hurt so hard it made his fingertips ache.
"Fel."
He looked back into his blue eyes.
After a brief moment of silence, he said softly, "Get some rest, Felipe...."
It echoed softly in Felipe's ear, "Try not to worry" reverberating in those 4 short words. He nodded and leaned against him, shut his eyes and eased himself into sleep.
Arpeggio watched him, and followed him into the arms of sleep.
~~~
8 am and Arpeggio woke automatically. He shook his partner's arm gently.
"Fel. Come on. Time to wake up for work."
He groaned and rolled to his stomach and buried his head in the pillows. "Nyuuuooooo."
He sighed with mild frustration. There was wave of relief that this usual morning routine hasn't changed, but its replaced with exasperation. "Felipe....we'll be late."
The other young man groaned again and lifted his chin enough to talk unencumbered. "No."
"Please?"
"Let's just stay home and have sex allllll dayyyyyy." He glanced at him with a single, hopeful but lusty look. And it made Arpeggio burst out laughing.
"I'd....I'd love to....but...."
Felipe laughed as well, and it felt good. "Ok ok ok. But next time?"
"We'll...see.... I don't see how we can make that an all day affair."
"Believe me, I could make it a 2 day affair...."
Somehow, they get dressed, with Arpeggio bringing his clothes into Felipe's room so that he could make sure he was getting dressed properly. Tying his tie adroitly, he tutted as the other boy took his sweet time.
"Come on, Fel, we're going to be late." He reached over and helped him button his shirt and tie the dark blue tie.
Felipe leaned forward and kissed him, firmly but lovingly. His alabaster skin quickly broke out into a deep flush.
Shrugging his blazer on, with a much more alert and cheerful demeanor than his previously slothful movements, Felipe headed to the door as his partner grappled with the sudden PDA.
As Arpeggio reluctantly came to the door and getting his keys, he gave him a gently yet still nervous smile.
"Ready to start the first day....of our new lives?"
It was an absurd thing to say. Be he had to admit...it was startlingly true.
The boys enjoy another quiet Christmas, on the years before. And perhaps the years to come.
You take a drag off your cigarette as our song plays on the speakers next to us. Your hair is tousled; not that I can talk. You prefer mine just as messy, flaring out like...what did you call it? Crow's feathers?
I like yours. Its like...hammered gold. And your eyes. Like black holes that pull you in, but they're not dead or crushing. More like a magnetic pull.
"What?"
"Hmm?"
"You're staring at me."
"Am I?'
Another drag. "Heh."
"I can't help it. Sometimes I just....lose myself looking at you."
You chuckle. "You say you're not a romantic, but you are. You just say the kinda stuff you feel."
I can feel my face start to feel warm but its a comfortable feeling. "Perhaps. But I had a good teacher."
You blush back. I love how it looks on you.
"S'good song this year. Good breakbeats."
"Mmm. I suppose. But it synergizes well with yours this year.
"I hate my vocals"
"You have some Flow. But I prefer you singing."
You blush again. I lean over to kiss you on the nose.
"Mnnnnn don't do thaaaat."
"Why?"
"Cuz that's my job."
You really do like to be the one on top in most of these situations, down to being more romantic. Its an oddly humorous quirk of yours.
"Don't you like it when I'm romantic?"
"Yes." The petulant lip pout makes you look childish.
I pull him closer and kiss him over some of that wild gold hair. "My, you're petulant tonight."
"Mm."
"....Felipe...?"
I feel your muscles ever so slightly tense. Your old name still illicits a reaction. Normally you prickle, and grow aggressive.
When I use it, however...you tense. As if bracing for something.
"....do....do you regret running....?"
You're quite a long time.
"Do you?"
Turning the question back, reflecting it like a mirror is something you do so often, I don't even get thrown off by it anymore.
I think a long time. Of what we've faced since the night we left. Of what we gained, what we lost, what we learned. What hurt. What was worth it.
And what we left behind.
"Yes."
You pull away to stare at me. You're not shocked in the traditional sense of the word; but you have the look of someone wanting to hear more. Pained curiosity.
"I regret...."
"....what we left behind?"
"....I regret not leaving sooner. Before...the Corps broke you so badly I was so...scared to let them break you further. That I got to a point where...I feared....I feared them breaking you to the point where >I< broke you...." I pause....I can't explain it, but I want to apologize for everything you'd gone through, seeing me regress to what they made me.
All because I was afraid of losing you.
You pull me closer. "You....you haven't broken me."
"I have. I made you doubt....us."
"Fleace tried to make me doubt us. The Corps tried to. Hell, even...even I let myself doubt it. But that wasn't because of you."
"I disagree."
"Disagree all you want, Pege. I got scared too."
".....do you regret it?"
"You do."
"I said I did. But I asked you first."
You're quite a long time too. Then you inhale very slowly.
"Sometimes I do."
I'm more openly surprised because I can see you glancing sideways at me as you stare at the ceiling, finishing your cigarette.
"Parts of me regret making you leave everything you ever knew behind. I hate myself for it. I made you do something you wouldn't have chosen to do on your own. And not because I told you to. Its because you felt you had to for me.
"I mean...jesus. The first couple night were I didn't let you make music? I have waking nightmares remembering that shit. The blood on the walls. How you went so off the rails I thought I'd broken you myself."
You sit up and hunch over your bent knees, hugging them. I don't think you're aware of doing it, but you seem so small.
"How....how I yanked you so far away from home that....that you and I were getting in punch ups. I mean...jesus christ. I was a fucking cunt to you....and you still....stayed by my side."
I sit up and mirror your pose, resting my chin on my knees. I'm looking towards the end of the bed, but inwardly I can feel all of that pain and regret. Your pain and regret.
Its exactly the same. I wonder if you know that.
"But in the end....if I was forcing you to do it, I'd know. And we wouldn't be here. So in that way...I can't ever regret it. Because its like I told you all those years ago after the elevator. Love hurts. And I don't want to hurt you....but I love you. And we're gonna get hurt. Cuz that's how love works."
"Exactly." I lean my head on your shoulder.
"Though right now, that's a shit way to spend a Christmas....talking about regrets...."
"New Year's is coming. We can jettison the baggage after."
"Still. Why did you even ask, Treb?" You look at me with eyes that seem sad. "I mean...shit."
"Because I wanted to say....even if I regret it, I'd still do it all again to be with you."
You wrinkle your nose. "That ain't real regret then."
"Now you're arguing semantics."
"You're pickin' fights."
"You like that about me."
"Since when??"
I chuckle. You chuckle.
"I guess even the best couples need to chat out their doubts and fears."
"Makes us honest."
"While we're on the subject..."
I look at your lecherous look.
"NO Bass. I don't want a threesome with Quentin."
You pout and roll to your side petulantly.
"You're no fucking fun."
I spoon you. "That's not what you were saying earlier."
"Merry fucking christmas, Treble."
"Happy christmas to you, Bass."
You let me rest my head against your back. Its warm.
Our songs repeat once again. A comfortable cycle I am content to continue for the rest of my life.
