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Clean Up on Aisle D by Six de los Reyes

Written by Six de los Reyes for #RCReadathon2020 Prompt and Pairing, Please! Challenge. Jett and Adrian are characters from Feels Like Summer and may or may not appear in other de los Reyes band/summer romance books near you.

Prompt: Comic con and fun banter / laughs every time they see anything star wars

***

Jett was laughing even before Adrian got the joke, but one look at the general direction she’d been looking at and he was steering her away from the display of lightsabers down the hall of the convention center. It mocked him, almost. Neon blue against red all lit up throughout all iterations across the franchise. But it was the green one that was the worst.

Just the absolute worst.

At least in public. 

In private, well, Adrian was one to choose his battles.

“Aisle D,” Jett snorted, tugging him back toward the middle of the main walkway, squeezing through the crowd and getting him slapped in the face with the papier-mâché wings of a Deathscyte passing by. “Lightsabers on aisle D,” she giggled, curling into him to check on his nose. “They cannot not be doing this on purpose.”

“You’re the only one who thinks that,” he muttered.

She pulled him down by the collar of his shirt to kiss the tip of his nose. “I can’t be the only one who thinks that lightsabers on aisle D isn’t funny. And you know what? I can prove that. Let’s ask the Yellow Ranger. Hey! Yellow!” 

“I believe you,” he said, letting himself be dragged back into the fray, this time successfully dodging the giant swords, spears, and the occasional horns and tails. “Try and contain your excitement,” he deadpanned. “Try not to get us kicked out of the convention center.”

Not that Jett paid him any mind. “I feel like I should chase after Yellow. I feel it in my bones. I have to talk to her. I need to know how she feels about aisle D.”

“Right behind you, darling.”

Jett spun on her heel and jabbed a finger at his chest. “Did you just call me darling?”

“How did you even hear that?” he asked, raising his voice above the white noise of a comic con crowd, the live event wherever the stage was, and the gaggle of conversation floating around them.

She poked him again. “You’re trying to distract me from my mission.”

“Am I?” He nudged her to the left just a little bit, just enough to not get in the way of a whole group of cosplayers and their support team. “Whatever your mission is, I’m being supportive.”

“No,” Jett shot back, eyes narrowing at him. “You’re trying to do that thing—” Her head shot to the side. “Is that Kylo Ren? I should ask him about lightsabers on aisle D. I should ask him about his lightsaber. You think he’d let me touch it?” 

Adrian sighed a sigh that felt like he’d aged ten years in the span of two seconds. “If you’re going to ask him about his lightsaber—”

“Baby,” she lilted, leaning against the post with the big D on the top. “Your lightsaber is the only lightsaber that matters to me. You know that.”

He cleared his throat to buy him some time. Jett using the B word on him sent a chill down his spine but the whole lightsaber business shot a whole other kind of jolt straight to other non-family friendly places. “Sure, say stuff like that out loud. That’s fine. This is fine.” He searched the crowd. “Who do you want to accost first? Yellow Ranger? Kylo Ren? How about that kid staring at you? I think he has a crush on you.”

“Accost?” she scoffed, clutching her chest on mock offense. “Accost is such a strong word. Me? Accost anyone? I would never!” Then her lips twisted into a smirk that had no business being so sexy. “You’re a little worried, aren’t you?”

“No.” And he meant it. He joined her under the sign. “Whatever you want to do, let’s go do it. You want to make a mess at aisle D? I’ll bring a mop. I’ll follow you around with a mop.”

She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him close. “You’re sweet. Here’s an idea. Do you want me to, like, dress up as Princess Leia?”

“No.”

“What about Rey?”

“No.”

“Jyn Erso?”

“No.”

“I guess it doesn’t matter what I’m wearing if it all ends up on the floor anyway.”

“Sure. That’s stuff you say out loud in the middle of all this.” He gestured vaguely around. The madness was enough to drown out the little conversations if the swelling video game music blasting from speakers didn’t. When the curious eyes stopped to stare, Adrian found that he didn’t care much for them. Though he probably should. Just a little bit. Maybe.

Jett grinned at him, maddeningly teasing and so sure of herself. “You’re super into me right now, aren’t you? Admit it. You’re hot for me. It’s okay. You can say it out loud.”

He laughed softly to himself, allowing just the slightest melt into her warm touch. “You’re doing that Jedi mind trick on me again.” 

“What trick?” she asked, batting her lashes at him. Nothing about the act was innocent. Especially not the way her nails scratched the back of his neck. “Whatever do you mean?”

“Fine,” he said, giving up the war. “If it’s lightsabers you want, it’s lightsabers you’ll get.”

 

End

 

Note: Jay has nothing to do with this but she was used with her consent.

#RCReadathon2020 Prompt and Pairing, Please! Challenge thread this way and here too for more ficlets of your Romanceclass faves.

 

Writing Now

30th

Written for #RCReadathon2020 Prompt and Pairing, Please! Challenge. Jill and Shinta are characters from the Playlist series, starting with Songs of Our Breakup and also in Songs to Make You Stay.

Prompt:  Shinta plans Jill’s 30th birthday party

 

***

Shinta Mori took birthdays seriously. Specially the landmark ones, like the 30th, which was turn-of-the-decade important.

Since he’d made Manila his home base, he had been hearing it referred to as the advent of the tito-slash-tita stage of life, where one would get excited about purchasing rice cookers and tea. Fascinating, really.

When he turned 30 he already had an interest in household machines and errands, having moved out to his own place early on. And tea, while it was not sake or beer, was always nice.

Anyway, this wasn’t about him. This was another person traversing into an exciting new decade, and this person was important.

This person also nursed a firm dislike of birthday parties.

Tricky.

His palm fell on Jill’s thigh, squeezing. “Do you want to go to Sapporo?”

One eyebrow rose. “Randomly?”

“Not right now.”

“Yeah, cos I’m supposed to be up there in 5 minutes.” Her mouth curved to his favorite smirk. She tilted her head towards Commute Bar’s floor where Nino was testing a beat on his drums.

“I actually can’t go on a trip next month,” Shinta muttered, gaze dropping on the sticky table.

Why did he have filming schedule around this important birthday? It was an extra challenge but he was up to it.

Jill was looking at him with narrowed eyes, which meant she was figuring him out, which meant she would get there soon, with the way she knew him.

He needed a distraction.

He leaned over and captured her lips, her face in both his hands, thumbs tracing her cheekbones. His kisses ran deep, bordering on inappropriate in public despite the dim lights of the bar.

He felt her smile against his moving mouth, palm smacking his chest.

“Fine, be that way.” She broke away from him and she stood up, aiming for her bandmates, fingers through his hair as she went. “I’m going to pretend I don’t know what this is.”

***

“She hates parties.” Miki’s tone was as flat and no-nonsense as Shinta imagined his expression would be.

“It’s not a party,” he said to his phone. “It’s an intimate congregation.”

“Also hates surprises.”

“I am walking a tightrope, I know.”

Shinta flopped face down on the sofa, his feet dangling from the edge. He raised his head to peek at his door in case Jill was coming in, but he had only imagined the faint jangling of keys.

Birthday planning was fun but he was making this year’s extra stressful for himself, with how much he wanted it to be perfect. Also with how he was involving more people. It was usually a trip or a quiet day of just the two of them, how she preferred it.

But really, one did not turn 30 every year.

“What do you have?” Miki’s voice called him back.

“Sushi, guitars, Tokyo, Trainman, girl squad, me. A list of things she likes.”

“No better place to start.”

Shinta sighed. “Hai.”

He reached for his laptop, open on the side table. He had been searching for inspiration, for a hint of something that would be the perfect not-quite-a-surprise, not-big-enough-to-be-a-party idea.

He had been searching for weeks, thinking about this for months. He’d thought of a lot but nothing was sticking. He swiped his finger on the trackpad and typed some more, going back to his usual website haunts for possible clues.

He was scanning on social media when he saw the announcement. He and Jill had been waiting for this. And for it to fall on this date.

His face stretched into a grin.

“Yatta.” He shifted his cheek to speak to his phone where Miki was holding his end of the call. “I think I got it.”

***

“Perfect seats.”

Jill released a low whistle as they dropped on the cushioned seats, eyes scanning the arena’s many floors, the rows filling up with fans bearing light sticks and banners. She turned to the stage, to the flashing lights around them, then to his face. He thought her eyes sparkled the most then.

He nodded, proud of himself. He’d fought an intense online battle with fellow warrior fans to secure these tickets. The show was sold out in less than three hours and he was one of the lucky ones.

It was a special birthday gift. He was blessed.

“Not in the VIP, because that means standing in the mosh pit with energetic teenagers for 3 hours and that’s not fun for the lower back,” he said, slipping his fingers through hers. “Not too far that you have to rely on the big screen to see the band’s faces. They charged extra for the faces. This is—”

“Perfect. Just right.”

Jill planted a kiss on his lips and he knew it was meant to be sweet but no wait—his palm cupped her nape and pulled her back to him, making the kiss last. When her palm came between them, it cradled the curve of his neck.

“Happy 30th birthday in 3 more hours,” he whispered.

She wrinkled her nose at ‘30’ but was laughing when she wrapped an arm around his shoulder.

“Thank you. You don’t have a surprise party waiting after this, do you?”

“Only an intimate congregation with your favorite people.”

“There’s cake?”

“Of course. I made everyone promise not to sing the birthday song. They can just whisper or text greetings to you.”

“Okay.”

The lights had dimmed, spotlights bursting, dancing, then zooming in on the stage. The crowd rose, a single collective yelling, screaming their hearts out, light sticks waving in the air.

Jill and Shinta stood with everyone else, but her smile was on him.

He lifted their linked hands to nudge her chin. “Tomorrow I can help you look for the best rice cooker.”

“Perfect.”

When she laughed and kissed him again he knew she meant tonight, this birthday, his plans, the chaos and the music around them, and the two of them together, always. Perfect.

 

End

 

Note: Jill and Shinta were 21 and 24 in SOOB and STMYS lol so this was fun to write and also made my head spin cos a lot would have happened in the years in between. But for sure there were constants–like music and friends and Shinta.

Special thanks to Day6 World Tour 2019: Gravity in Manila and rice cookers.

#RCReadathon2020 Prompt and Pairing, Please! Challenge thread this way for more ficlets of your Romanceclass faves.

No one asked for it but I wrote a Jill-Rhys fic here.

Writing Now

JxR: First Meeting

Written for #RCReadathon2020 Prompt and Pairing, Please! Challenge. Sort of. Jill is a character from the Playlist series, starting with Songs of Our Breakup. Rhys is a character from Six de los Reyes‘ book Just For the Record and also appears in anthology Summer Crush

***

 

This was nice.

Silence. Calm. Being surrounded by band boys most hours of her waking life guaranteed noise, chaos, and fun too, sure. Music and hijinks abound. Son and Nino ganging up on Kim while Miki mediated. In the midst of that, productivity and songs happened somehow. It worked out.

Music could be quiet too.

From the corner of her eye she saw Rhys nudge her fork, spearing a piece of pancake. Jill mirrored the motion, taking a cut of bacon on her next bite.

She didn’t know what led to this exactly, a midnight pancake run with Rhys, DJ unicorn extraordinaire. Miki had said working with Rhys had been the strangest yet most efficient experience, a volley of files attached to emails. Abrupt, to-the-point emails. That worked out too, the Summer Crush theme song turned out nice.

Was this about work?

Jill shrugged, munching on another bit of bacon with some egg. This late, the pancake place was empty, aside from the sleepy crew behind the counter.

Earlier tonight Rhys had sent her a text. Pancakes? I know a place.

Jill had said yes. It wasn’t complicated.

They sat side by side instead of across each other, with enough space for another person between them. Rhys was now slurping down her iced tea. The girl seemed to enjoy sweet things. Jill slid her untouched glass to Rhys’s side of the table, preferring water.

Music was playing through the speakers. It was ‘Iris’ by the Googoo Dolls a minute ago. Now it was ‘Breathless’ by the Corrs. Y2K karaoke hits was the playlist theme maybe. Cool.

“So, your boys,” were Rhys’s words, bringing a quick death to their silence.

“I don’t have boys,” Jill said, surprised. “I have a Shinta?”

Rhys gave a nod and a brief second of eye contact, as if approving.

“One boy. Not your Shinta. The bassist. Curly?”

“What is Son up to now?” Jill groaned.

“What are they up to—is more precise. Curly, Fluffy.” She sighed, pointing a thumb to her chest as if claiming responsibility for the second name, albeit reluctantly.

Jill had to take a moment to try and pinpoint a Fluffy among Rhys’s crew. Curly for Son was self-explanatory, but was Fluffy supposed to be ironic?

“Michael Brian?” She ventured a guess.

Rhys gave a short grunt which Jill took as a yes.

“And Steven,” Jill finished, comprehension dawning. She wondered for a second what could be Rhys’s nickname for Steven but figured that was a question for another midnight.

Mikhail Learns to Brian. The surprise project group that two of their bandmates plus Steven of Korean rock band East Genesis Project fame had cooked up. Right under their stern leaders’ noses, an accomplishment the trio had been giddy about.

Rhys had moved on to sipping Jill’s iced tea. “Does Traindude approve of the name?”

“Traindude…?” Her bandmates were all Traindudes. Trainmen? Oh right. “Who—Miki? He didn’t have a choice. They told him to be grateful.”

“It worries me.”

“Have you heard their samples? They sound good.”

“I’m not worried about the music.”

“I get you.” Jill stuffed her mouth with pancakes, chewing to buy time. She felt herself smirk. “I don’t have energy for an intervention, if that’s where you’re going. Maybe this conversation should have been with Kim?”

“No, not that guy. Grumpy would…do things. And I’m just…”

“Worried. Gotcha.”

Jill really did. Most times the project group thing was funny, because separately, Son, Michael Brian and Steven were hilarious. Together, they were an explosion waiting to go off.

Case in point, dropping a single in the middle of East Genesis Project’s V Live session.

Second case in point, stealing—“borrowing” the poor Shinta Mori standee for their music video shoot.

Chaos. Energy.

Jill pulled out her phone and set it on the table between her and Rhys, finding a song. It was a new one. The boys had coerced Miki to supervise their rehearsal and Miki had recorded it, sending her the track.

It was a fast beat. Clip-clopping. Heavy on the bass and synths. Generous with the hi hats, the drums thumping its own rhythm. Michael Brian was crooning, the sweetness of the sound a surprising contrast to what she knew of his abs and to the energy of the track.

Rhys had closed her eyes. The song looped and neither of them stopped it.

“I will be in touch.”

She sounded so serious. Jill couldn’t help a burst of laughter.

“Is this you or the company speaking?” she asked.

“Me.” Rhys flicked her another look, another second’s eye contact. “The song is nice. I’d like to hear the next one. It doesn’t have to be pancakes next time.”

Jill shrugged, licking butter off her lips as she took another bite. “Pancakes are nice.”

***

That was fun, heh.

#RCReadathon2020 Prompt and Pairing, Please! Challenge thread this way for more ficlets of your Romanceclass faves.  

Music Dance and Lyrics Writing Now

He Bangs! She Bangs! New Book : Songs To Your Beat

I didn’t know what to do with Nino until we decided it’s time to move on. If you’ve known him since Songs Of Our Breakup, you’d know Nino didn’t have a good run with his last relationship. Not really spoiler alert: he messed up. He did try to win a heart back and tried a do-over, a prelude to which we see in the super short narrative of him flying to Singapore on a mission in the aptly titled That Thing Called Closure.

From there I waited, I tried, I asked him how indeed can he succeed in this do-over. And it just wasn’t rolling, because it can’t. Some things are un-fixable, and maybe the fixing has to be an inward thing and that is the lesson for today, Nino-wise.

So in his book Songs To Your Beat (unofficial/really official/some kind of canon alternative title Songs You Bang To), Nino tries again. Not to revive a dead relationship, a love he lost, but to forge on, scarred heart and lessons learned and all of that. Find love and love himself again. A single tear may trickle down when I think about this, because it wasn’t easy, and this dude, Nino, well I am proud of him.

And then there’s Santana. I see her through Nino’s flirty yet 20-20 lens, and she’s tough and exhausted and she needs a hug, even though she won’t ask for it. Even when she’ll tackle Nino to the ground to give him a clue. She’s a water plant treatment engineer, inspired by the toughest woman I know.

Songs To Your Beat is out on Amazon, only $0.99 for a few more hours as of this writing. Cover design by Tania Arpa, photography by Alexandra Urrea featuring Iking Uy.

I published this book on April 18, on Dawn Lanuza‘s birthday (lol yay Aries season!), and Japanese record release date of the album Favorite Worst Nightmare by the Arctic Monkeys.

More on the book below. And a song from the album called Old Yellow Bricks. “You’re a fugitive but you don’t know what you’re running from” heh yeah lol

“I am the drummer” — It usually works for Nino, beat master of rock band Trainman and newcomer DJ, but the usual hook fell flat on gorgeous, sleepy-eyed, water treatment plant engineer Santana. Still there’s attraction even Santana can’t deny, and despite her warning that she’s not exactly in the market for a relationship, they agree to take it one sporty date, one bacon haunt, one hot night together at a time.

Nino thinks it’s going quite well. So what does it matter that his ex is back in the country? Or that he’s weighed down with guilt he hasn’t been able to shake off for too long? With his brand new attempt at happy-finally-after, none of that matters. Right?

 

 

Writing Now

Latest Book! Songs You Come Back To

Finafxxkingly! — how I’d sum up this book’s journey in one word. I first finished Son and Alice‘s story in 2016, with the goal of getting to The End before I started #romanceclassFlair. I have since released Ringo and Kris (You Out of Nowhere, 2017) and Ringo and Kris’s Summer Episode (Second Wave Summer anthology, 2018), but alas, Son needed more time and a looot of work. Didn’t think I’ll ever trash an entire finished draft and start from scratch but we don’t really think of those kinds of things do we cos gah que horror, but that’s exactly what happened. Shelved 40k words, lay face down with my thoughts for periods of time, tried again, failed, tried again, succumbed to the need for rest from words, tried again. This time, I think, Son and I finally got it. The only goal for this book really is to write it, enjoy it, and get it out, pleaseandthankyoujustGO. It’s been with me for far too long and though I figure time and a hiatus was just part of this particular process, it’s also a psychic block of sorts that I’m glad to finally be able to push through.

Run wild and be free Son and Alice. Today you no longer belong to just me. And that’s freeing and scary and ultimately awesome. To all who were part of the madness, I hope I got all your names in the Acknowledgements. I am blessed, I am grateful. I shall have cake when cake is again available. This book is coming out at a strange time of escalating anxieties and very real fears, and it’s a small thing among the big, suffocating things. But it’s a good thing and I’m glad for it, and hope you will enjoy it.

 

Let me come home to you.

When Son meets Alice again after she disappeared from his life four years ago, he can’t wait to impress her. He is the oft half-naked bassist of indie rock band Trainman after all. But adolescent pain lingers, and headstrong actress Alice isn’t about to let Son off the hook for breaking her heart. Can he prove to her, to himself, and to people who matter, that he is capable of being someone she (and everyone else) can count on?

Cover design by Tania Arpa, with photography by Alexandra Urrea featuring TJ Roxas. Fourth book in the Playlist series but can be read as a standalone. Proudly a #romanceclass book <3

Songs You Come Back To is only 0.99$ until end of March 2020.

Son and Alice’s story first began in Promdi Heart.
Also, happy birthday Takeru Satoh! I heartchu.

Writing Now

Surprise! Draft Excerpt: Yes to You

Sometimes you think you’re just going out and joining friends for a celebration over food and drinks and next thing you know you’re talking tropes and weddings and wow look at that, you’ve all signed up to deliver an anthology and there are receipts. There weren’t even that many drinks that night? Pretty sure we agreed on this project while sober. Which means it will totally happen right? Right. Wedding anthology. Fake dating. #romanceclass. Coming at ya 2019. (Happy juju and pompoms for encouragement are solicited and very much appreciated)

No final anything on the output yet, but for now we’ve got excerpts. For accountability, of course.

Check out Mina V. Esguerra‘s here, and Carla de Guzman‘s here. Scroll down for mine, hee.

***

Yes to You by Jay E. Tria (excerpt from a draft)

“I’ll guess your favorite thing about weddings.”

“You’ve been trying to since the plane.” Jiji rolled her eyes at Ruiz’s stone serious face. “Know when to quit.”

“I really thought it would be the bride walking down the aisle.”

“Is it because I cried?”

“That was cute though not surprising at all.”

Ruiz did look like he’d been expecting it when Jiji burst into quiet sobs, seeing Rachel walk through the church’s double doors, glowing in her white dress as she floated towards her groom. He came ready with a pressed handkerchief for her and it didn’t even come with teasing.

“I do love that part,” she had to admit. “But nope, not my favorite thing.”

“Is it the slicing of the cake and the first toast?” Ruiz guessed again, trying this one maybe because that was where they were right now, at the reception, watching the newlyweds stand before the three-tier fondant, their knotted arms struggling with the cake knife.

“Because cake and wine?”

“Makes sense to me.”

“I’d rather they feed me the cake and wine.”

“You’re right.” Ruiz scratched the back of his head. “What a stupid guess. Don’t count that.”

At an earlier point in their friendship, Jiji would have worried that Ruiz was playing this guessing game because he was bored, being stuck in this island celebration knowing no one else but her. She knew better now.

This was him amused, excited and curious all at once. He wasn’t the type to require much mingling, or any mingling at all. Unlike Jiji, he wasn’t very fond of people, which was what the resting bitch face was for. Well, so it was in the office where only Jiji could safely approach his cubicle and not get grunts and deadpan stares for answers. He was better outside though, more sociable, at least with her friends that he’d met. And today he had met quite a few new ones since they’ve arrived in Cebu. The bride included.

‘No,’ Jiji mouthed to Rachel soon after she introduced them. Jiji and Ruiz had hung back after the ceremony to greet the newlyweds, in that pocket of time before the couple had to cross the church’s threshold and receive their customary shower of petals. Rachel’s eyes widened at Jiji from behind Ruiz’s head, hearts popping out. 

‘Yes he’s hot,’ Jiji’s thoughts had buzzed, responding to Rachel’s wild gaze. ‘So hot it hurts me, it physically hurts me.’ 

If it wasn’t bad enough that off-duty, island Ruiz was him in a V-neck white shirt and low slung plaid board shorts—as Jiji had learned when he picked her up for the airport—, he had to interpret the invite’s formal wear requisite by showing up in a midnight purple suit, his black hair slicked back in soft waves, looking straight out of a runway wet dream. Jiji was certain Rachel got her pained message.

Inappropriate, unnecessary thoughts aside, Jiji knew bringing Ruiz to the wedding remained to be a good idea. It was a small affair but it was a place to be seen, and by people she hadn’t in along time. She had been looking forward to reacquainting herself with old people, but she’d forgotten the annoying parts of how this worked. ‘Did you gain weight’ and ‘are you married yet’ were every other person’s token hello. How to unlearn that, society? Jiji had to hold in her procession of sighs. She couldn’t care less about the first nosy question. And while she could handle the second, she was glad she didn’t have to.

“Don’t ruin the surprise. I haven’tasked her yet.” Ruiz would say this to each prying person with his signature straight face and laser eyes.

It was more than enough to send people shuffling their feet and shifting to ‘so what are you up to now,’ which to Jiji wasn’t all that better but at least led to more meaningful catching-up threads.

From their view three rows of tables away from the stage, Jiji and Ruiz watched the husband give his new wife the first bite of cake, his shaky hand leaving a trail of icing on her airbrushed face. Ruiz made a soft snort, the tip of suppressed laughter.

Jiji nudged his arm with her elbow. “What’s your favorite wedding thing? Do you even have one?”

“Of course I do. I have a heart.”

“Well, then?”

“You’ll get that when I guess yours.”

“This game makes no sense.”

“It doesn’t have to make sense.” Ruiz’s gaze stuck to hers, making her wonder if they were still talking about the same thing.

From the front of the hall, the emcee’s voice boomed out, “CLINK YOUR GLASSES IF YOU WANT TO SEE A KISS FROM THE NEWLYWEDS” and after raising a chorus of silverware tinkling against glass,hollered, “Such a sweet kiss! Moving on with the program, let’s have one short game before dinner—”

“Speaking of games.” Ruiz’s eyes reflected blank panic. “I think the condom-blowing contest or some find-the-pin-on-the-coat idiocy is about to happen and I’m sure that’s a favorite thing for no one.”

Jiji shot out of her seat. “Get me out of here.”

***

End of excerpt. Pinterest board here, in case you appreciate visuals.

Thanks for reading and we hope to share more of this project with you really really soon <3

Photos sourced from Pinterest. Credits to owners.