𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐂𝐔𝐋𝐓

ㅤ
ㅤㅤ
Sometimes when we're feeling creative about our red carpet's attire, we chose each other's outfit from our brand stylist and keep our options a secret until fitting day and what a delightful coincidence that our choice are always perfectly match for us to stand side by side. Our mind connection is pretty immaculate. :D
ㅤㅤ
ㅤ
𓏲࣪◜#𝐇𝐄𝐃𝐎𝐍𝐄 #𝐄𝐑𝐎𝐒
ㅤ

my first red carpet after a while, with my beloved family, Literate Cult. I am so grateful to standing here, side by side with these people that I love and loves me too. so here's for tonight's premiere of our new play, and for the night that I think that I'm not going to get too much drink because Luther's not here to sweep me off the floor. and please don't forget to visit our amazing channel on T.me/bIeedingwords <3

Warm chatter immediately filled the whole room along with the constant sound of cutleries. A few soft chuckles can be heard occasionally, though of course none of them forget their table manners and still keep it to a minimum. A warm flush seems to fill everyone’s cheeks and each of their eyes are lit with liveliness and adoration for each other.

“Hey, why aren’t you eating your food?” Gabrielle could make out Hunter’s voice in their moment of awe. Gabrielle shook their head and smile warmly, slowly digging into their own plate. This family never ceased to amaze them with their spirit.

A clap of thunder is heard from afar, but nothing could faze them when all of them are together in this state. Let the storm rage on, they said. The night is theirs and nothing could take that away.

All is well.

If they didn’t know any better about the quality of the mirrors in that ballet studio, they would’ve thought the glasses would shatter in the thunder’s wake. Luckily, Salem and especially Elián made sure that every single thing built in this manor are of the high end materials.

The sudden loud pattering of raindrops made Gabrielle smile in delight and all negative thoughts went out of the window. All this manor need is a dinner filled with delicious cuisines made by Josette to complete the perfect evening.

As if reading their thoughts, the sound of Gymnopedie No. 1 of Erik Satie’s masterpiece somehow managed to invade their hearing amidst the noise of the storm—signaling that it is indeed time for dinner. It has become a habit for the lot of them to signal dinner time with musical instruments. It might sound regal and classic to strangers, but the reason behind it was quite funny, considering it involved Phoebe screaming at Josette for ringing the bell too many times and too loudly that it hurt her ears. One day, Josette just played the violin so perfectly that the whole occupants of the manor came down just to see what’s the occasion, only to be greeted by her sassily telling Phoebe that, “It’s dinner time, Your Highness.”

However, Gabrielle could tell that this one is a product of Damien’s skilled fingers dancing upon the black and white of the grand piano’s tuts by how smooth and gentle it sounded. They smiled warmly to themself, their family are truly a bunch of amazingly talented people.

Gabrielle took off their ballet shoes and head to the dining room, not even bothered to change out of their ballet clothing. They were greeted instantly by Josette’s very own twins, “Gabby! Gabby! Gabby! Is it true that you are training ballet to play the fallen swan?” The two of them said in perfect unison with their cute accents, it seems that they’re in a phase where they are quite confused whether they should speak in Italian, English, or Spanish, not to mention that they’re also still trying to get familiar with speaking properly. Gabrielle raises an eyebrow, “Who told you that?”

“I bet my books that the mom is the source of the gossip,” Juliette joined in on the conversation with a light chuckle. Gia and Cia are the epitome of pureness among the devils in this manor, it’s not a rare thing for them to spit out random words out of doctrines from the adults as a means to prank each other—which pisses Josette a lot while Joel would often ended up becoming the ‘jolly third party’, as he seems to enjoy the chaos. A loud ‘I did no such thing!’ came from the kitchen where Josette resides, which earned a chuckle from everyone.

“It was me actually,” Hela chimed in with a mischievous look on her face, befitting of her name. “Just watch me kick your ass with a grand jéte next time you pull something like this,” Gabrielle said half jokingly, almost snorting loudly when they heard a smug ‘would you like to try this?’ which was uttered by Carey to Mx. Ghost Painter, an inside joke about how ghosts supposedly cannot stomach foods, which immediately countered by Mx. Ghost savagely taking the food into their mouth. Gabrielle could see Dorian struggling to not choke on his wine as it seems that he saw it too.

To their right, Hunter is carrying the youngest star in the manor, Jío. The way they coo at him made the atmosphere feels warmer and Jío’s cute inaudible response is enough to make the whole room melts with a chorus of ‘aws’. Gabrielle could see Jaehyun visibly swooning due to the wholesomeness on their peripheral vision.

Josette put the last cuisine down on the table and take a sit beside her husband, her eyes swept through the table—silently making sure of everyone’s presence. Just by looking at the way the foods are presented itself cause their mouth to water, even Gabrielle who’s terrible with cooking could tell that it’s going to be delicious. “Chop chop, people. Let’s dig in!” Elián clapped his hands to signal the start of dinner and just like that everyone indulged in the perfectly cooked and richly seasoned Risotto.

Gabrielle felt their smile slowly dissipate along with the disappearance of Mx. Ghost Painter. The atmosphere became less chilling than when the ghost was around, albeit cold all the same. A storm is brewing after all, but Gabrielle somehow found themself unbothered by the frigid air.

It’s warm, because they know that they are exactly where they need to be. However, they could somehow align themself to what the ghost was feeling.

They let out a loud snort as soon as those thoughts came forth.

What a bizarre thing to have in mind, isn’t it? To relate to a ghost. People must think that they’re all bonkers for living with a ghost—one who’s a painter as well—but they’ve all grown quite fond of that spiritual entity, strangely enough. Besides what can they do? Salem said that the ghost has lived in the manor for ages and would present themself to the people who lives inside it, especially when they deemed those people worthy of seeing them—whether those people like it or not. It would be rude to just shoo them away and frankly none of us are fit to be a ghost hunter. Most of us are artists after all.

Gabrielle could only think of how lonely it must be to live that long, and they often say that they’re no stranger to loneliness, but they couldn’t lie about how it almost drove them to the peak of insanity. They shook their head violently as despairing thoughts starts to resurface and resort themself to turn on the music instead. They draw in a long deep breath before performing a pas seul from Giselle. One, two, three...

...their thoughts couldn’t help but wander back to the memory of how they were first introduced to the people in this manor. It was a lively night in Paris after such a lovely theatrical play. However Gabrielle was not celebrating that night, rather they were overwhelmed by lament. They had just gone out to find some fresh air after being bedridden for months due to a fatal injury, which leads to their retirement as a prima ballerina—the world of ballet is cruel to non-binary dancers after all. You either became a ballerina or a ballerino, there’s no in between.

The injury was not fatal enough to make them stop functioning altogether, but the healing was complicated enough to get them out of the stage long until the memory of them would be buried by new shining stars. People called them The Fallen Swan and Gabrielle called those people insipide in return. Gabrielle hate the nickname. However, they found themself in awe of the theatrical play that night and it made them remember their love for art once more. They crave to write and act as good as those people, they wanted to visualize fantasy and just create... art—with words, with music, with expressions, with every inch of their body dedicated solely to create a masterpiece.

It just so happens that Salem—which was the writer of the play—was nice enough to offer a hand and introduce Gabrielle to the rest of the group, which leads them to where they are right now. A thirty something years old art student, a ballerina retiree, and a true devotee of the group who’s ready to follow through with every adventurous path they’re going to take to create masterpieces.

Choosing to live in this manor with these people is the best decision Gabrielle had ever made. These people taught her that the world may be a stage, but it doesn’t always have to be a competition for the performers to stand on the so called stage—for everyone have their own roles to play and their own moments of glory, and it truly works wonders for Gabrielle’s previous bitter way of thinking—a product of spending years in the ballet world and being told that striving for perfection is always a must by their parents. Gabrielle is still learning of course, but they have nothing to worry as long as they’re surrounded by the people they love.

Their movement and their wandering thoughts halted abruptly as the booming sound of thunder cut through the music.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

What was a sane person thought when the air was cold enough to make them jitter. As a decent human, Mark sat on the bar chair, holding a mug. He blew a hot chocolate before sipping it. The taste of warm chocolate wrapped him to comfort. However, a ghost mind was different from than usual human. The strange person—that lead Mark to the dining room—grabbed a bowl of ice and their favorite drink, mango juice.

Perhaps, the cold didn't make them feel something, since they were long enough to feel things, and their memories short enough to remember their past life. They were unlike the other members in this mansion. Being an entity that lives with humans felt as weird as it sounded.

The person held their beverages. "I'll be back to the art room," They said. The sleepy pup only hummed in response. Ghost painter, they named themselves, walked around the mahogany table. Step away from the dining room.

Ghost painter placed their drinks as far as possible from their workspace. Learned from the mistakes hundreds of years ago, they spilled milk upon their paintings that took them two weeks to finished. Ghost painter stood in front of their newest piece that was finished, but the never enough feeling that persisted on his work would be their eternity enemies. It needs more details, they mumbled.

They grabbed a paintbrush, blemished every color on their pallet to the canvas. The ghost hands flow creating abstract yet precise shapes. No details were being left.

Ghost painter looked at their right table. Something was missing there. Their sketchbook was supposed to lay beside their guitar miniature. Yesterday I was drawing in the library, it must be there, they remembered.

Ghost painter left their comfort place. Passing by corridor after corridor. Their steps stopped im the third corridor. Melodies enticed their ears. Lured them to follow the sounds, that proved to be from the ballet studio.

A lean figure strode to the right side of the room. The intense melodies gave them moments of power before they hovered in the air. A few seconds and the gravity pulled them again. Their black hair waved to all sides as their body circled, gashed the breeze fiercely tender.

The ghost stood there, watching their performance was causing inevitable admiration. The violin rhythm paced down. Gabrielle, the ballet dancer, synchronized their movement with the melodies. They bent their legs to the floor. And the tones perished with the smiles on their sweat face.

"I can see why you love ballet that much," Ghost painter took a few steps closer.

Gabrielle got up from the floor, drift their attention to the ghost. "As well as I see why you love painting." They said. "Do you dance, Mx. Ghost Pinter?"

A soft chuckles left from the ghost painter's mouth. "A deadman can't dance, Mx. Ballet."

There was a moment of silence. Gabrielle’s eyes wandered through the room, looking for the right words to say. Up till they stared at the ghost again.

"Poems never left their poets by themselves, Mx. Ghost. The poems are still alive even though their writers passed away. The writers live among those verses. And you," they paused, "you still have the chance along with every masterpiece that you painted." A thin curved up lines formed on their lips. Satisfied with what they just professed.

"Ah, your words always fascinated me," Ghost Painter agreed. "Thanks for that, but I'm afraid my sketchbook feels lonely without me now, they're in the library. Maybe next time you can teach me."

"I'm ready anytime, but a dance comes with a price."

"Sure, get as much coffee as you like!"

Ghost painter turned his back. Entered the library and grab their sketchbook. Spend the evening locked up in the art room. Like they always used to.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

On the other side of the mansion, there was the newcomer, Jung Jaehyun. The boy was setting up his messy bed from last night. After setting it up, he lied on the other side of the bed, taking up his phone to call his bestie. "Everyone's been very nice to me here, you should visit me here sometime"..." ah you gotta go?"..."see you later!!"..." I love you too~" with that he ended the call smiling at his phone.

The man stood up from the bed, took a refreshing bath, changed into some clothes, and looked at the mirror, thinking to himself.

"What should I do today"....after a few minutes of thinking, an idea popped into his mind. I should continue my essay...yeah I probably should.

Taking a quick sip of water, he grabbed the laptop and started typing, he started on when he last left. A few hours came fast and the pup finally decided to take a break from the screen.

He rushed to the kitchen, greeting the others Good Afternoon, Jaehyun went to the refrigerator, taking a big package of ice cream he bought yesterday.

Taking the package to his room slowly, he sets the snacks on the coffee table and walks towards Mr.Brown, the teddy bear who was sitting on the floor surrounded by blankets. The pup coos at the sight, happy with the setting he put up. He happily snuggled on the pillow fort, turning on Netflix. Well, the funny thing was, an hour didn't even go by, his eyelids were betraying him and he quickly drifted off to dreamland.

"Jae darling, it's dinner time. Let's go grab dinner together" a mysterious person tapped his shoulder. Sleepyheaded, Jaehyun nodded and followed the person to the dinner table.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

It’s been a while since she's back to their lovely mansion after she decided to have a very long long time of summer vacation outside the country, and now she’s ready to get back to reality.

Phoebe just finished calling her boyfriend who’s currently on his world tour concert, instead going with him on his tour she decided to come back to her family’s mansion. I've been gone for few months, its time for me to comeback to that big scary but lovely mansion, she thought. Well after calling her boyfriend, she decided to have a little time of her life in this mansion, well it means she wants to get back to her favorite room here, the training room.

After changing her clothes with some training costumes, she went to the kitchen to get some foods before begin her training. “looks like everyone still sleeping” she said right after she stepped in to the kitchen and saw the clock, well it's 5am ofcourse everyone's still sleeping. opening the fridge, she grabs some green apples and orange juice then make her way to the training room.

opening the training room, damn, it looks like hell In here, someone must be using this room yesterday and just leave after that without cleaning their mess. after putting her food away, she makes her way to clean the room first, then warming up her body a little before starting to punching and kicking things.

her body feels a bit heavy, and she admit it. she's been on a vacation for three months, no training only eating, no wonder it's kinda hard when she started it this morning. it's been two or three hours after she started to train, doesn't really cares about time, of course. Typical Phoebe.

feeling tired, she's finally resting her feet after three hours of kicking off the punching bag, checking her phone and noticed that she has three missed call from her boyfriend and another three from her brother, not really bothered with the calls, she decided to swipe up the notification and checking the time instead. 2pm, she missed the lunch.

feeling enough with the break, she got up and looking for something new to get kicked, and found the training dummy on the corner of the room, right before she kick the poor dummy, she heard the door cracked open and a lovely woman popped up her head from behind the door.

“In the mood to kick some asses?” Josie,— the woman who opened the door, asked. makes her stopping her movement and turning her eyes at the woman. “Or sack?” she continued with her wide grin, makes her chuckles a bit then nodding her head. after Josie's left, she continued her training while waiting for her friends call her to have their dinner together.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

Damien had spent the entire morning on their co-working space in the mansion, deep in thought as they edited an upcoming video for one of their clients. They were nearly done, just adding the last touch of effects on the video.

They pushed the render button and leaned back, sighing as they stretched their arms. Now that the hard part was over, he was able to relax. They rose, wincing at the tightness of their shoulder as they made their way to the refreshment table. God, they need to work out more, apparently.

They popped a pod into the coffee maker, a caramel latte pod from Starbucks, to be exact. Damien leaned against the table, brown eyes trained into the glass window that brought natural light into the room. The window is large, showcasing the beauty of the landscape. The mansion is a stellar thing, it is. They had picked a right spot—secluded enough to calm their minds, beautiful enough to satisfy their eye of aesthetically pleasing scenery.

Sadly, it is a bit far from the nearest society, literally a half-hour drive. Well, they suppose nothing is perfect, right?

(At least no one is mad enough to order in food with like, GrubHub. Yet. They’ll make sure to pay the guy more if they did, it'll be fiiiine.)

The ding of the coffee machine brings Damien’s attention back to it. His coffee is ready! They pushed their cup into the machine, watching as the thing poured a perfect cup of coffee. They crouched to get some ice cubes from the mini fridge under it and plopped it into their drink.

Damien sipped on it, humming happily as he does. “Oh, God, nothing matched a nice cup of coffee,” they muttered, returning to their seat to check on the rendering process. 67%. It is a miracle that Adobe didn’t kick their ass for once.

They waited once more, wathing the scenery beyond the glass sindows. He's bored, and his phone was still charging in his room. We should've stocked more books and board games at the break space, Damien thought as they watched the trees sway with the wind.

Their break space consisted of a sofa, a soft rug, two big bookshelves arranged in a way to create some kind of a separation between the working space and itself without sacrificing natural lighting. It is nice, and it’s rarely used by their friends. Damien would often stay in that space instead—either watching some films, playing games on the game consoles, or just calling-and-FaceTiming their husband whenever they missed him (which is a way of saying that they called and FaceTimed him nearly every day).

They sighed, leaning back against their chair. Thinking about his husband only makes him miss him more.

Damien glanced at their monitor again, smiling slightly as the popup informed them that the video is now fully rendered. They quickly pulled up their Discord, sending the project and the fully finished video to their client. The client was apparently online and trusted his process enough to reply to him with a thumbs up and a PayPal receipt. Ah, he apparently had paid Damien earlier.

Well, his job was done, now. He'll return to his room to take a quick nap before dinner to prepare himself for another inevitable impromptu session of brainstorming later that night. He sighed, shutting off his PC. They had joined their little group they call a second family nearly a year ago, but they’re still not used to, well, staying up late to discuss projects or doing script reading sessions in their bimonthly meet-ups.

But hell, do they love it very much.

They passed the training room as they made their way to the mansion’s sleeping quarters, hearing rough sounds of a person exercising. Huh, must be Phoebe training again, then. Damien wanted to pop their head into the room and greet her, but they figured that she might be busy. They shrugged. It’ll be okay, all of them will meet again at dinner tonight, most likely.

They yawned, walking into their assigned room and flopped into the bed. A morning well-spent, they thought, before dozing into sleep.