Devil's Effect

The Morning After

Notes:

Hey everyone, happy Sunday! Surprise! And welcome to the longest author's note ever.

We know there's been a lot of up and down feelings/distress over the last few chapters. We totally get that this story (as well as DD) is very heavy and in depth for a fanfiction. Believe us when we say, we never meant for it to go that way. It just sort of happened, and now we're working hard to stay true to the characters we created and let them play out their lives.

With that in mind, we wanted to share an email that we sent to one of the readers who was fretting over the direction this story has gone. We think this might help some of you, too.

This is what we sent her: As full-on Bennoda girls, we KNOW how hard this story is right now. Trust us. And it's going to get worse. It's going to get bad. BUT. And this is an important BUT, what comes after all the bad and the hurt, is SO much better than it was even back in DD. We can't go into detail, but let us tell you this. There was a moment (way down the line) after everything was settled that we both went - woah. We could feel the difference between Mike and Chester, after they came out the other side of everything. It was actually kinda amazing and a huge relief for us both. We know it's hard to tell sometimes, but we stressed through all of these middle chapters. We still stress over them. When we go back and read (and we do a lot) over the upcoming chapters, we still cry. We still text each other and talk about how awful this part is or how that part makes our hearts hurt. It's a lot. But we also talk about the results of all that hurt, and all the benefits that came from them (which you guys will get to see play out over the last part of the story). From an honest point of view, the current Mike and Chester relationship is not healthy. There's a lot that's broken, a lot that hurts them both. A lot of misunderstandings and desperation on both sides. Looking back over things after finishing the story, we decided things really needed to go the way they did to end up in the place they land. If certain things wouldn't have happened, other (worse) things would have, and there would have been no return from them. So hang in there. We totally get if you need to stop reading, but we really hope you stay with it. We know it's hard, but the hard is important for what's coming.

Sometimes it takes something massively painful to make you realize how much you love someone. That's the takeaway from this story.

We really like how everything plays out, and we're hoping it doesn't come off as cheap. We really don't. A lot of emotion from both sides went into it, and we hope that shows.

Hopefully this will give some of you some reassurance. Yes, this IS a Bennoda story. Because the next handful of chapters are really, really hard on all the Bennoda hearts out there, we've decided to update twice a week (Wednesday and Sunday) to get you guys through the hard stuff faster. We know that's a lot of updating and a lot of reading, but we've had people ask us to speed it along, and we think that for now, that's best. Everything is already written, so updates are easy to stay on schedule.

It was too quiet in the loft. Mike lay on his stomach on the end of the bed, his feet hanging off, with Chester an arms length away. They were facing each other, with Ryan close behind Chester, his hand on Chester's hip. Jason was behind Mike, against the headboard, his back resting against both pillows as he slept with Ryan's pajama pants balled up under his head. Nobody moved as the sun came up, spilling light unapologetically into the loft, shining on the forgotten cups from the night before. Chilly ocean air blew in from the windows that had been left open as clothing was shed and tattoos were examined, and things got out of hand.

Mike slowly became aware that he wasn't comfortable. The arm resting under his head as a makeshift pillow had fallen asleep, and his head was aching. He was cold. And when he opened his eyes a sliver, the light actually hurt. He groaned, pulling one arm over his eyes as he tried to move the other one, and pins and needles pricked under his skin while the blood started to flow again. It's cold. My head is hammering. Fuck. This is why I don't drink.