AN:
Cheire – Yeah I agree. Controlling his emotions is his weakness, especially when it comes to Padme.
Guest – Yeah haha Anakin always looks good being bad. He looks exceptionally well in the battle of the heroes with Obi-Wan. Yeah I like that Padme and Anakin have grown to understand each other better. Palpatine is such a brilliantly intelligent villain but so evil! And yup, he's getting his claws into Anakin. This is the final arc before Padme finds out you-know-what... :D
Angie – Yeah I like the idea of her just closing the door and cutting him off. She had nothing to prove to Clovis. And yeah Padme's is always trying to encourage people not to resort to violence.
Guest 2 – I love this comment. What you said about their love is a perfect description. Yeah Mozart, another tragic, manic genius. Yeah I find the Tartakovsky CW fits well with the story in the movies.
Champagne Supernova
The walls were covered with tough truths. Critical – as Clovis paced Palpatine's large office. His boss was sitting calmly behind that mahogany desk making a steeple of his fingers. Clovis clung to his distress, unable to gaze at any one thing in the room. He moved with the rapidity of a lightning strike. A splash of black and blue and purple shaded his eye, put there by Anakin's punch. That was his face right now. Bruised. But it was Palpatine who really wore a new face. Clovis clawed and dug to find the vaguest trace of his old encouraging boss. But Palpatine was intent on staying out of it.
"So you're going to do nothing?!" Clovis' words swarmed with fury.
Palpatine hunched his shoulders. "He wants you fired..."
"You're not taking his side..." Clovis insisted with disbelief. "Your assistant attacked me!"
Palpatine shot him a doubtful look, a rejection further angering Clovis. It dawned on him what Palpatine's silence really spelled out. A curse, a betrayal.
It is a cycle of which he was warned. The nature of high society. The thin thread connecting good and evil. It starts with their generosity, their empowerment. You feel you are stitched into the community. The fabric is made of surface manners and material wealth. You are met with encouraging gestures and words of wisdom. You are in the club. They want you to succeed. They let you in on the secrets, the tips, the building blocks of business.
And then you watch the first hysterical man storm out of his boss' office and you pity him. They tell you that some people in this world just can't handle the pressure of a fast-paced empire. And the man is escorted out of the building, screaming at the top of his lungs about how he was deceived, and he prays that a form of karma exists. He calls his former boss the devil. He goes on and on about their avarice, their cruelty.
And yet still. . .you never believed it could happen to you. Because you were who they call family.
"I've given a decade of my life to this company!" Clovis growled. "You were supposed to make me partner! I've done everything you asked and I did it better than anyone. I even went and brought Padme back when you asked!"
"But you didn't." Palpatine's slimy words snaked out. "I did. You failed at that."
Clovis scoffed at him. His chest puffed. "You have no loyalty... You use people. Everyone said that. Gunray said that."
For a moment Palpatine was incensed at the sound of that name. "Loyalty? Pfft. You sleep with other men's wives. What were you hoping to get out of showing up at Padme's door and harassing her? Don't come preaching about loyalty." Palpatine managed to turn the ugly, repulsive thoughts into a renunciation, followed by weariness. "I'm sorry, Rush. Don't take it personally. This is just business. And Anakin is an important part of this company's future."
"And I'm not?" He juggled shock and quiet desperation.
The walls carried the duration of the silence. The longer Palpatine refused to answer, the worse Clovis felt. Life was proving too much for him, mentally conquered and mastered by disappointment. It sparked the obvious question:
"What's he got that I don't? He has no law degree, no education, no experience! I've poured all my expertise into this job! I've earned my place here – I've sacrificed a personal life for it! What can he possibly offer?"
Clovis needed something tangible to work with. Some closure. He was losing strength with each word exerted. His whole future felt threatened. It was too easy for Palpatine to separate from their history. A history of merits and mistakes that ultimately led them to success together.
"What's he got?!" Clovis repeated with a roar.
Even Rush Clovis, the most refined man lost his composure when he realized all he had worked for wasn't worth it. Insecurity must have been waiting long and hard to finally creep in — the day he lost everything. When you stop moving, that's when you finally feel your pain.
Palpatine rose from his seat and rounded the desk toward Clovis. "You have given everything asked of you, that's true... But not an inch more! You've become complacent. You have no passion. You believe you already know all there is to know. And Anakin. . .he's younger... He's hungrier, and eager to learn. And there's something poetic about you being swapped for someone younger... A taste of your own medicine perhaps."
Now an enduring energy called, interminable. Clovis felt caught in a vortex of doubt; every incident he feared loomed over his head. You hear stories at drunken gatherings, whispers about these things every so often – of feeling keenly alive one minute and then buried beneath self-destroying skepticism and speculation the next. The man who built himself from scratch, crawled up to the top, doing unspeakable things to get there, was welcomed and persuaded by the elites, and then one day, he disappears. He went crazy; he got messed up with drugs, they'll say in the dark corners of their cubicles. They'll say anything but the truth, that he was chewed up and spit out by the establishment.
Those abandoned that were used and have fallen in a treacherous shadow. Those forgettable faces people vaguely remember passing through their halls, their parties, their so-called charities.
Those cases that Clovis was certain would never be him.
Anakin along with everyone else in the office watched Clovis stumble through the reception furiously with his box of belongings. The eyes on him were discreet. And Clovis made it a point to avoid looking at them in turn. But one person didn't shy away. One person, in fact, relished in Clovis' departure.
"What the fuck are you looking at?" Clovis snapped at Anakin, who stood tall, with the wit to find this whole thing amusing, like nothing could disturb his victory.
To Clovis' transient interpretation of obstinacy, Anakin responded: "That one black eye, it looks a little lonely."
Clovis adjusted the box under his arm and sprinted over, getting right in Anakin's face. But now, looking at the smug youthfulness, he realized he was mad at himself. His own foolishness and the arduous toiling of life. He used to believe there was nothing more to it than gaining everything your ego could ever want – and look where it got him. Look who it left him with. Look what fame turned him into.
His voice came out of the swelling of his throat, carving ice with a grim, strong pitch. "I know you're living the high life right now. You got the girl; you got the job. So you're probably thinking you won and can take this further, as far as you like. I've been there. Racing to the top... You'll take all the necessary steps to gain all the success you supposedly need to have as a man. And it feels great at first. But let me tell you something, kid. Man to man. Stop when you have what you need rather than what you want. Because the more you get, the more you'll want. And what you think you want is not what you really want... And once you finally get there, sacrificed your dignity in ways you never thought possible to reach the pinnacle of success according to everyone around you or whatever culture dictates is success today. . .it won't be enough."
Anakin watched him walk away. He felt no sadness, no openness for him. Why would he consider listening to the man who kissed his wife? Who forced himself on his wife. The man who was hooked on exterior attention for a quick hit of validation. A man wasting away with no meaning in his life. He was just mad that the man he pretended to be, the image he curated to replace every internal sickness was found out.
Someday you will find me caught beneath the landslide
In a champagne supernova in the sky
Anakin popped his head round the door of Palpatine's office. "You wanted to see me?"
"Yes Anakin. Come in, I have good news!" Palpatine greeted him with smiles and Anakin took a seat.
"Thanks for having my back with Clovis. I really don't want that guy around Padme."
"Don't thank me. These days Clovis brings more problems than he solves. You're saving me a few visits from HR." Palpatine's chuckle soon ended and he grew more serious. His jaw had a sharpened, finer edge as he looked out the large glass window and back at Anakin, eyes sparkling with the power of a new vision. "You did wonderfully in our meeting with the sports agent. He's not a friendly man, but your knowledge of sports paid off. You a big basketball fan?"
Anakin hooked his feet around the chair legs and folded his hands on his lap. "I like sports in general but my drug of choice is racing."
"Well, I know a couple of the guys at the race track here, so whenever you want to go drive a few laps, drop my name. I'll tell them to be expecting you."
"Really? That would be awesome!" Anakin's eyes unpeeled at the possibility. Sometimes he longed to get behind the wheel again and remember the simplicity of his once vivid and clear dream.
"Now let's get down business. I didn't just bring you in to talk about sports." Palpatine sat forward, forearms bracing the desk. "I wanted to tell you in person that your probation period is over. You've proved yourself these last six weeks. So I want to officially offer you a more permanent position here."
"Thanks. I'm in! Any filing you want, I'm on it." He lifted his arms up, giving himself to the opportunity. There was something jokingly self-abandoning about his gesture in the most undramatic sense.
Palpatine laughed. "You're far too good for that. I'm offering for you to be my private investigator."
Anakin's confusion came with a scrunched nose and forehead. "Don't I need a license for that?"
The occupation sounded too big. Perhaps he would be better suited to something smaller, something inferior. Palpatine seemed to have faith in him, this uncritiqued, uninterrupted faith. And so far, Anakin could only handle it in small glimpses; it was blinding to be given power in your hand so easily. They say the devil gives you the easy path. But the more Anakin mazed through his journey, he wondered, was it easy? He's been through the most tumultuous paths in his head. Did he not deserve this relief?
Palpatine proved that to be a plain fact. Despite his faults forced upon him, he can outlive their clutches. Like him, Palpatine seemed to believe in illusions until they became real. Stop looking, judging, defining with your mind and instead do so with your heart.
He must stop digging up what displeases him, makes him afraid, and go back to being that bold 19 year old who jumps in with both feet. Remember your muse, your family, who inspire you to reach the heights of your kinder impulses, your nobility, your generosity.
"Oh that's just paperwork. I'll take care of that." Palpatine said with fatherly warmth and limpid eyes. "I've hired PIs in the past, but most work freelance, and I need someone I can trust in-house. Someone committed to this company. And Ventress reports that you value loyalty as much as I do."
"I have daily report cards?" Anakin let out a soft chuckle.
"She says good things." Palpatine rolled out a deal from the desk drawer and gave Anakin thick sheets of paper. A contract. "So take this home; it's everything the job entails. Think about it."
Anakin stared thoughtfully at it and uttered, "Will do."
How many special people change?
How many lives are living strange?
Where were you while we were gettin' high?
Slowly walking down the hall
Faster than a cannonball
Where were you while we were gettin' high?
Padme came home after an evening of fine dining, floating through the living room in a host of good feelings. It felt good to get dressed up and out of the house. It got a bit lonely with Anakin at work all day. He didn't have much free time to spend with her now he had a full-time position at the firm.
She headed to the bedroom, finding Anakin studying some papers clipped together. Looking at him was like finding your roots. There's no better way to decompress.
Her husband seemed spellbound by whatever he was reading. He was in full concentration mode, looking like sunshine with a lampshade casting a small golden circle of light around him. Everything beyond that faded into the shadow.
"Hey you." She cooed.
He hadn't noticed she had come home. His gaze lifted suddenly, like the sound of her voice groped him out of the trance. The room attracted her heat. Just the style of her dark velvet dress and gold earrings manifests unreasonable need. The pendant around her neck stood out in particular.
"Hello beautiful." He smiled at her, and that characteristic glance of turquoise intensity penetrates; being disarmed by it never got old. His gaze is selfish egoism; it steals you lovingly for itself.
"How was your dinner with Mon?" He asked.
"Good. We talked about work and not about work." Padme made her way to him, hiding her hands behind her back. "I got you something for your birthday..."
A slow-developing smirk appeared on his lips. "It's not my birthday yet."
"I know. But this couldn't wait." She giddily joined him on the bed and handed him a book. Modern Man In Search of a Soul by Carl Jung.
"What?!" There was a gasp. He soaked up the cover in those avid eyes as a wave of nostalgic delight came over him. He had been wanting to add this book to his collection for a long time. "I used to read this and freak out like, man, he's talking right at me!"
Padme got under the covers with him, tucking them in this electric current of his exultation.
"Read me something." She snuggled up to him, her warmth rippling outward from under the touch of her fingers tracing circles just below his collarbone. He flipped through the pages. The scent of her shampoo emanated upward, reaching his nostrils with intoxicating charm, making his knees weaken and awakening a manly comfort to hold her within while her leg entwined with his.
He read to her with that light voice drawing her in. She is powerless against it. It is a spell that touched her with its melodic, coddling resonance. She doesn't just hear it through her ears, she feels its strong caresses.
"At first we cannot see beyond the path that leads downward to dark and hateful things but no light or beauty will ever come from the man who cannot bear this sight. Light is always born of darkness, and the sun never yet stood still in heaven to satisfy man's longing or to still his fears."
If there was anyone who could make you become conscious of your shadow and the civil war within, it was Carl Jung.
Anakin felt he was on his own pilgrimage, about to make Coruscant his iconography. How Kerouac immortalized route 66 or the way you cannot think about Joshua Tree without thinking of James Dean. Glorify your life like it's art. He already found the beauty in it when he looked at his wife.
Padme just listened to him under the bright, obvious moon shining through the open curtains. This was dessert at the end of a night. When he spoke the written words, he made them his own, with his slow cadence and hypnotic drawl that reverberates through her body. The silent pauses were just as serene.
"Well..." Padme began once he finished, swept away by his breath of heavenly fresh air. "'Oscar Wilde once said, 'With freedom, books, and the moon, who could not be happy?'"
Anakin turned to her, bathing in the toasty sensations that ravaged his soul. "Padme, this... " He tapped the book cover. Her name on his lips is said smoothly, making her tingly. "This is the best birthday gift ever."
She showed her adoration with a full, tender-hearted hug and meaningfully touched her lips to his. "Better than this?" She said suggestively, deepening the kiss.
He moaned into her mouth. "Mmm... nothing's better than this."
"In that case—" She hovered over him, tempting him with a fiery kiss. He melted into it at first. Unable to keep his hands to himself as they framed her face. Then he gently pulled away and his fingers trailed down her cheeks, sliding past her neck before they parted.
"Not now babe." He whispered tenderly. "I gotta finish going over this before bed." He jabbed a thumb at the papers on his side-table before his palm cradled the side of her head and his fingers were buried in her hair. His touch asked for forgiveness while she stared at him, not good at veiling her expectations.
"I got a long day tomorrow." He rubbed his temples with one hand, reaching the distance with his thumb and index finger, warding off a headache. "Just wanna be prepared."
She saw the tiredness washing over his face. He had been busy a little too much for her liking. But she was willing to forgive and forget. "I understand."
"Knew you would..." He said teasingly with a not-so-innocent smirk. "Plus... I kinda need to save all my aggression. It helps me focus. A night with you and I'll wake up too. . .relaxed." He winked.
Anakin turning her down... As REM would put it, 'It's the end of the world as we know it.' She joked to herself.
But she understood. She acknowledged it was good and sensible of him to dedicate his time to something that made him feel accomplished. He'd been working so hard for their growing family. The only thing she wondered was whether he was too focused on work at times; she was worried he was starting to miss out on living. He was rising up fast and she was proud of him, but she was afraid he was getting caught up in chasing the big things.
She herself learned when she moved to Tatooine that it's the little things in life that are of value. Quality time with your loved ones, your heath, the simplicity of a humble life... These are worth growing old for. Life flashes by so quickly, it makes people change. She'd seen it happen a couple of times.
But Anakin wouldn't change. He was just up for a challenge. He was courageous. And she was simply. . .overreacting.
Champagne Supernova - Oasis
