A New and Not-So-New Beginning

Alright! I've been in Scotland for 6 whole days now, and in that time I've furnished my flat and bought groceries to get me through the next few days. I've been feeling pretty under the weather lately, partly because jetlag is finally catching up to me, and partly because Glasgow's tilted streets have awakened an old ankle injury. So, since I'm curled up in bed watching Disney movies, I figured this would be a good time to get this going again.

I know I said in my last post that I'd be starting a new book called Rudolph, but as I started writing it, it just wasn't as much fun as I wanted it to be. With that said, we're going to skip that book for now and go straight into ELJ's original Fifty Shades trilogy, beginning with Fifty Shades of Grey. This series is told from Ana's perspective, which usually provides for more humor and less horror than being inside Christian's head. Usually.

And so, without further ado, I present to you, Fifty Shades of Grey.


Chapter 1.

"I scowl with frustration at myself in the mirror. Damn my hair - it just won't behave, and damn Katherine Kavanagh for being ill and subjecting me to this ordeal. I should be studying for my final exams, which are next week, yet here I am trying to brush my hair into submission. (foreshadowing, perhaps? he does sort of brush her with a whip thing in the movie...) I must not sleep with it wet. I must not sleep with it wet. Reciting this mantra several times, I attempt, once more, to bring it under control with the brush. I roll my eyes in exasperation and gaze at the pale, brown-haired girl with blue eyes too big for her face staring back at me, and give up. My only option is to restrain my wayward hair in a ponytail and hope I look semi-presentable." -- isn't it interesting how Ana talks about her hair the same way Christian talks about Ana?

As we're all aware, Katherine Kavanagh is Ana's roommate, and "has chosen today of all days to succumb to the flu." Ana, clearly, is the kind and compassionate roommate with whom everyone hopes to live. Ana continues to be an ungrateful harpy about doing a very nice thing for her very sick friend ("I have final exams to cram for and one essay to finish, and I'm supposed to be working this afternoon, but no - today I have to drive 165 miles to downtown Seattle..." -- honestly, do you complain to your friends like this? Why does Jose have a thing for you? You're horrible.), even though Kate is remarkably apologetic. 

"'Ana, I'm sorry. It took me nine months to get this interview. It will take another six to reschedule, and we'll both have graduated by then. As the editor, I can't blow this off. Please,' Kate begs me in her rasping, sore throat voice. How does she do it? Even ill she looks gamine and gorgeous, strawberry blond hair in place and green eyes bright, although now red rimmed and runny. I ignore my pang of unwelcome sympathy." -- yes, Ana. Good. Ignore all feelings that make you seem like a decent person. It makes it much easier for me.

In the car, Ana reflects on the drive.

"Fortunately, Kate has lent me her sporty Mercedes CLK. I'm not sure Wanda, my old VW Beetle, would make the journey in time. Oh, the Merc is a fun drive, and the miles slip away as I hit the pedal to the metal." -- Merc? You say Merc? Does anyone say Merc? I feel like shortening the name totally devalues the fact that it's a Mercedes. Also, it's an ugly car.

In the lobby of Christian's building, Ana is overwhelmed by all the steel and glass and sandstone ("I walk into the enormous - and frankly intimidating - glass, steel, and white sandstone lobby."). And also by the professional-looking receptionist.

"I'm beginning to wish I'd borrowed one of Kate's formal blazers rather than worn my navy-blue jacket. I have made an effort and worn my one and only skirt, my sensible brown knee-length boots, and a blue sweater. For me, this is smart." -- See, Ana. This shit is why you forgot to bring a fucking pen to the interview. And why you work at a fucking hardware store. You have no idea how to be professional. For fuck's sake, you want to work in publishing. In an office. With people. And clients. Open a fucking magazine once in a while.

Christian's receptionist helps Ana check in and directs her to an elevator. While waiting, Ana notices that the two security guards are dressed much more smartly than she is, as they're both wearing suits. She then steps into the elevator.

"The elevator whisks me at terminal velocity to the twentieth floor." -- does it? at terminal velocity? that's a term generally reserved for objects that are falling through space, but okay.

Once in the lobby, Ana is seated in a leather-clad chair. She's nervous and overwhelmed by the construction of the building again.

"To be honest, I prefer my own company, reading a classic British novel, curled up in a chair in the campus library. Not sitting twitching nervously in a colossal glass-and-stone edifice."

Ana continues to focus on the appearance of the building and Christian's receptionists (wondering if he requires that they all be blonde, and if that's legal... not that legality really matters to Christian, but I'm getting ahead of myself). Finally, Blonde Number Two (as Ana calls her) summons Ana into Christian's office.

"Gathering up my backpack, I abandon my glass of water and make my way to the partially open door.

'You don't need to knock - just go in.' She smiles kindly.

I push open the door and stumble through, tripping over my own feet and falling headfirst into the office.

Double crap - me and my two left feet! I am on my hands and knees in the doorway to Mr. Grey's office, and gentle hands are around me, helping me to stand. I am so embarrassed, damn my clumsiness. I have to steel myself to glance up. Holy cow - he's so young." -- Ahh, yes. The "double crap." The second highest level of crap, right before "triple crap." Unless there's a "quadruple crap" that I've forgotten about, but I don't think so. Also, why has no one giffed Dakota Johnson's ridiculous fall into Jamie Dornan's office yet??

Thanks to his incompetent assistants, Christian thinks Ana is Kate. 

"'Miss Kavanagh.' He extends a long-fingered hand to me once I'm upright." 

Thank you, Supernatural, for having a gif for everything.

Ana looks at Christian, somehow able to take her eyes off of fingers so long that they require commenting on, and is dazed. She begins to tell him that Kate is ill, but gets distracted when she shakes his hand.

"As our fingers touch, I feel an odd exhilarating shiver run through me. I withdraw my hand hastily, embarrassed. Must be static. I blink rapidly, my eyelids matching my heart rate."

  

IT LIVES

She goes on to introduce herself and explain that she's studying English Lit with Kate. Even though Kate is a Journalism student. Whatever. Christian invites her to sit, and she is once again preoccupied with the construction of his office. After silently critiquing Christian's design aesthetic, she begins to set up her recorder. This takes an extraordinarily long time, and she gets clumsier the longer it goes on.

"When I pluck up the courage to look at him, he's watching me, one hand relaxed in his lap and the other cupping his chin and trailing his long index finger across his lips." -- is it really that noticeable? like. does the index finger stick out from his hand like a fucking aye aye? because that's what I imagine. and it does not make for an attractive man.

It's not fucking pretty, is it?

Ana asks Christian if she can record the interview, even though she's just spent the better part of a page setting things up, and we commence with perhaps the most awkward conversation the entire series has to offer. Asking the most obvious question for a millionaire (To what do you attribute your success?), Ana doesn't like the answer Christian gives and suggests that he's just lucky - which, by the way, is super rude, and you can bet your ass that Kate would have more respect for someone who is taking the time out of his day to talk to her. She then calls him a control freak, to which Christian responds, "Oh, I exercise control in all things, Miss Steele."

"I look at him, and he holds my gaze steadily, impassive. My heartbeat quickens, and my face flushes again.

Why does he have such an unnerving effect on me? His overwhelming good looks maybe? The way his eyes blaze at me? The way he strokes his index finger against his lower lip? I wish he'd stop doing that." -- and we all wish you'd stop mentioning his freakish fingers, but we can't all get what we want.

The interview continues to get worse, with Ana asking Christian if he's gay, which we all know he is not. She laments not employing a filter when reading the questions, but I feel like if she had simply looked them over even once beforehand, she wouldn't be having any of these problems. Unfortunately, Ana doesn't know how to hold her own, even one on one, so the interview soon flips, and Christian is asking the questions - all of which she should be able to answer, none of which she really can. 

"'What are your plans after you graduate?'

I shrug, thrown by his interest. Move to Seattle with Kate, find a job. I haven't really thought beyond my finals.

'I haven't made any plans, Mr. Grey. I just need to gt through my final exams.' Which I should be studying for right now, rather than sitting in your palatial, swanky, sterile office, feeling uncomfortable under your penetrating gaze."

Somehow, after sitting with Ana for something like 20 minutes and witnessing her fumble around, both verbally and physically, Christian decides she might be a good fit at his company. 

"'We run an excellent internship program here,' he says quietly. I raise my eyebrows in surprise. Is he offering me a job?

'Oh. I'll bear that in mind,' I murmur, confounded. 'Though I'm not sure I'd fit in here.' Oh no. I'm musing out loud again.

'Why do you say that?' He tilts his head to one side, intrigued, a hint of a smile playing on his lips.

'It's obvious, isn't it?' I'm uncoordinated, scruffy, and I'm not blonde.

'Not to me.' His gaze is intense, all humor gone, and strange muscles deep in my belly clench suddenly." -- BREAKING: Ana has discovered her sex drive.

Ana is suddenly very uncomfortable, and decides to leave, even as Christian asks if he can show her around. She mentions that she has a very long drive and is bewildered when he demands that she drive carefully. As she's leaving, Christian bids her farewell.

"'Until we meet again, Miss Steele.' And it sounds like a challenge, or a threat, I'm not sure which. I frown. When will we ever meet again?" -- oh, Ana. you have no idea. also, aside from stalking you, he did just tell you that he's speaking at your commencement ceremony. that's why you're interviewing him. so yeah, you're going to see him again.

Christian opens the door for Ana and makes a snide remark about how he wants to make sure she actually makes it out of his office without injury, which makes Ana blush. Because you know - when a boy makes fun of you, that means he likes you. In the lobby, Christian gets Ana's jacket.

"He holds it up and, feeling ridiculously self-conscious, I shrug it on. Grey places his hands for a moment on my shoulders. I gasp at the contact. If he notices my reaction, he gives nothing away. His long index finger presses the button summoning the elevator." -- there's an Amazon review that says there are 7 references in total to Christian's abnormal index finger, and chapter one contains 4 of them. I'm not entirely convinced there aren't more.

Finally, the elevator arrives.

"I hurry in, desperate to escape. I really need to get out of here. When I turn to look at him, he's gazing at me and leaning against the doorway beside the elevator with one hand on the wall. He really is very, very, good-looking. It's unnerving.

'Anastasia,' he says as farewell.

'Christian,' I reply. And mercifully, the doors close."

Annnnnd that's chapter one, everybody! It's likely I may start an "inner goddess" count, complete with her many actions, as soon as she makes an appearance. 

Grey: Chapters 21 through 25

Or, Sunday, June 5, 2011 through Thursday, June 9, 2011.

Sunday, June 5, 2011
“I gaze up at the bedroom ceiling. Sleep eludes me. I'm tormented by Ana's fragrance, which still clings to my bedsheets. I pull her pillow over my face to breathe in her scent. It's torture, it's heaven, and for a moment I contemplate death by suffocation.
Get a grip, Grey.” – yes, get a grip. a very firm grip. on the pillow. and hold it over your face. forever.

He gets up to get some water, wanders over to the piano, and somehow wakes up again, in bed.
"I glance at the clock: it's 3:30. I head into the kitchen and after drinking a large glass of water I make my way to the piano.
I wake again with a jolt and it's light - early-morning sunshine fills the room. I was dreaming of Ana.
. . . . .
The evidence of my desire presses into the mattress." -- the mattress that you keep next to your piano?

In his despair, Christian decides to go for a run. I guess I'll give him credit here, for at least being able to get out of bed. He begins his run with Prokofiev's "Arrival of the Montagues and Capulets" (really?), but soon finds he needs something different.
"I cannot run from this pain, though I'm trying. I stop to change the music and drag precious air into my lungs. I want something . . . violent. "Pump It," by the Black Eyed Peas, yeah. I pick up the pace." -- ahh, yes. The oh so violent lyrics of BEP:

"La-da-di-dup-dup die dy
On the stereo
Let those speakers blow your mind
(Blow my mind, baby)
To let it go, let it go
Here we go
La-da-di-dup-dup die dy (c'mon, we're
there)"

So violent. Much angry. Wow.

In his rage, or whatever emotion the Black Eyed Peas evoke, Christian gets the brilliant idea to run by Ana's apartment.
"I find myself running down Vine Street, and I know it's insane, but I hope to see her. As I near her street my heart races still harder and my anxiety escalates. I'm not desperate to see her - I just want to check that she's okay. No, that's not true. I want to see her. Finally on her street, I pace past her apartment building.
. . . . .
The curtains of one room are closed, the others open. Perhaps that's her room. Maybe she's still asleep - if she's there at all. A nightmare scenario forms in my mind: she went out last night, got drunk, met someone . . .
No.
Bile rises in my throat. The thought of her body in someone else's hands, some asshole basking in the warmth of her smile, making her giggle, making her laugh - making her come. It takes all my self-control not to go barging through the front door of her apartment to check that she's there and on her own." -- something tells me you're a few months late for a meeting with your therapist, hun.

After Christian's run, he returns to his study and gets a surprising amount of work done. Ros, his assistant person, has sent him the first draft for the business plan to take over the publishing company for which Ana will be working. ("At least I'll be able to keep an eye on Ana." -- eughhh.)
Christian leaves his study for the change of scenery offered by his kitchen, and runs into his housekeeper. They speak very briefly about what she's cooking, and it appears she wants to say something, but she quickly changes her mind.
"'What, Gail?'
'It's nothing. Sorry to disturb you.' She turns to the stove to stir the chicken, and I head off to have another shower.
Christ, even my staff have noticed that something's rotten in the state of fucking Denmark." -- pleeeeeeeeease stop comparing yourself to Hamlet. I know ELJ needed a Shakespearean play to latch onto in this series because Stephenie Meyer vomited Romeo and Juliet all over Twilight, but lorrrrd. Hamlet is a tragic character, and one of my favorite plays. You are not him. Ana is not Ophelia. And the two of you are not going to die ridiculous deaths perpetuated by the murder of Christian's father.


Monday, June 6, 2011
"I dread going to bed. It's after midnight, and I'm tired, but I sit at my piano, playing the Bach Marcello piece over and over again. Remembering her head resting on my shoulder, I can almost smell her sweet fragrance.
For fuck's sake, she said she'd try!I stop playing and clutch my head in both hands, my elbows hammering out two discordant chords as I lean on the keys. She said she'd try, but she fell at the first hurdle." -- are you kidding me? ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME? the first hurdle, Christian? the FIRST? it wasn't when you tracked her phone? or sold her car? or when you spanked her and then fucking left without talking shit out? none of those count as hurdles to you? because they're fucking deal-breakers for the rest of us. and while we're here, HOW FUCKING DARE YOU say she didn't try. we've been here for a month, and she's done everything you've ever asked her to do. she asked you to show her how bad it could be. how is the fact that she couldn't handle it not trying? you told her you'd never put her through more than she could handle. you said you'd never inflict more pain than she could take. and you did. so fuck you.

Continuing in his thoughts, he wonders why he hit her so hard. The words he uses to describe himself are "impetuous" and "selfish", stating that he "seized the opportunity to move us on to where I wanted us to be."
"...and I hurt her more than she could take - when I promised her I'd never do that.
What a fucking fool I am.How could she trust me after that? It's right that she's gone.
Why the hell would she want to be with me, anyway?" -- she loves you, you fucking bagel. despite all the bullshit you put her through, she loves you. and that's why she wants to be with you. how many times do you need this spelled out for you?

The next morning, he calls Ros to congratulate her for her work on the publishing house acquisition proposal.
"'Great work on the SIP material, but the business plan needs some revision. Let's offer.'
'Christian, this is fast.'
'I want to move quickly. I've e-mailed you my thoughts on the offering price. I'll be in the office from seven thirty. Let's meet.'
'If you're sure.'
'I'm sure.'
'Okay. I'll call Andrea to schedule. I have the stats on Detroit v. Savannah.'
'Bottom line?'
'Detroit.'
'I see.'
Shit . . . not Savannah." -- well no, Christian. you can't just takeover Ana's employer and the colonize the city her family lives in. you get one or the other, asshole. also, I really hate the way the dialogue is written. Not having any dialogue cues is sloppy and, if it were to go on much longer than this, confusing. Jasper Fforde does this brilliantly in his book, One of Our Thursdays is Missing, during an exchange between Thursday and her robot friend, Sprockett (see photo).

If you haven't read his Thursday Next series, go out and do that right now. Don't even finish this blog. The first book is called The Eyre Affair and you owe it to yourself to read something so wonderful.

Finally at his office, Christian barks at his many receptionists to get him food and coffee and to call a bunch of people. He goes into his office and thinks about Ana. Again.

"She'll be starting her new job this morning, meeting new people . . . new men. The thought is depressing. She'll forget me.

No, she won't forget me. Women always remember the first man they fucked, don't they? I'll always hold a place in her memory, for that alone. But I don't want to be a memory: I want to stay in her mind. I need to stay in her mind. What can I do?"

Andrea (receptionist #1) comes in with his coffee and croissants and he asks her for the number to a good florist.

"'Sir, we use Arcadia's Roses. Would you like me to send flowers for you?'

'No, give me the number. I'll do it myself. That's all.'

She nods and leaves promptly, as if she can't get out of my office fast enough. 
. . . . .
Between meetings I call the florist and order two dozen white roses for Ana, to be delivered to her home this evening. That way she won't be embarrassed or inconvenienced at work.
And she won't be able to forget me."

On his way home from the office, Christian instructs Taylor to detour by Ana's apartment and to drive very slowly past it. Her light is on, and Christian wonders if she got his flowers. Taylor offers to double back and drive by again (how many times have you had to do this for Christian, man? you're awfully good at being creepy), but Christian declines. Back at his apartment, Christian thinks some more.

"Taking a sip of cognac, I wander listlessly into my library. It's ironic I never showed her this room, given her love of literature." -- that's because you literally do not give a single fuck about anyone but yourself. it's not ironic. it's 100% expected.

"I survey all my books, neatly shelved and cataloged, and my eyes stray to the billiard table. Does she play billiards? I don't suppose she does.

An image of her spread-eagled over the green baize springs to my mind. There may not be any memories in here, but my mind is more than capable, and more than willing, to create vivid erotic images of the lovely Miss Steele.

I can't bear it.

I take another swig of cognac and head out of the room." -- seriously, man. where's that therapist guy you've been talking about for 536 pages?

Tuesday, June 7, 2011

We begin Tuesday with yet another nightmare (he's had one at the beginning of almost every chapter but I stopped caring about 500 pages ago). The dream begins with lots of Ana sex, obviously, and ends with her running from him, horrified at whatever it is he's just done. Then, Christian wakes up.

"Hell! I'm a sticky mess. Briefly I feel that long-forgotten but familiar sense of fear and exhilaration - but Elena doesn't own me now.

Jesus H. Christ, I've come for Team USA. This hasn't happened since I was, what? Fifteen, sixteen?"

He falls asleep again and has ANOTHER dream, but this one isn't nearly as exciting as the first. He wakes up, startled for a second time, and decides to go for a run.

"Her building looks gloomy; it's still in shadow, untouched by the early-morning sun. Fitting. It reflects my mood. Her apartment is dark inside, yet the curtains tot he room I watched before are drawn. It must be her room. 

I hope to God she's sleeping alone up there." -- honestly, Christian, in the entire month you've known her, have you not paid any attention to her life at all? she was 22 before she lost her virginity or even had a boyfriend. does she seem like the kind of person who is going to break up with a guy and immediately crawl into bed with someone else? I mean, come on. I think the only other guy she even knows aside from you is Jose, and she's made it very clear she doesn't want anything to do with him. and even if she did have someone up there, it's really none of your business. 

"Pulling my hood up and leaning against the granite wall, I'm hidden in the doorway of the building opposite. The awful thought crosses my mind that I might be standing here in a week, a month . . . a year? Watching, waiting, just to catch a glimpse of the girl who used to be mine." -- you know you could get arrested for that, right?

Finally, Christian has an appointment with his therapist, Flynn. It's mostly more of Christian moping and recounting his last month with Ana. Eventually, Flynn suggests maybe trying a relationship the way Ana wants one, and Christian is horrified. He says that he's never considered a real relationship with her because he didn't think he could have one (also he's not too keen on not being able to control her, but I digress). 

"The last month flashes before me: her tripping into my office, her acute embarrassment at Clayton's her witty, snarky e-mails, her smart mouth . . . her giggle . . . her quiet fortitude and defiance, her courage - and it occurs to me that I have enjoyed every single minute. Every infuriating, distracting, humorous, sensual, carnal second of her - yes, I have. We've been on an extraordinary journey, both of us - well, I certainly have. My thoughts take a darker turn. She doesn't know the depths of my depravity, the darkness in my soul, the monster beneath - maybe I should leave her alone." -- Let's get one thing straight, Christian. You're not a monster. You're a person. A really, truly, terrible person. A monster would absolutely do the shit you've done to Ana. A person, apparently, would, too. The difference is that people expect it from the monster. Let's not go trivializing the shittiness of what you do by making yourself appear less than human.

Christian tells Flynn that he's given him a lot to think about and leaves. Standing on his balcony, he considers the possibility of trying a relationship Ana's way and it scares him. What if she doesn't want him? 

"I need her.

Something startles me - a movement, a shadow at the periphery of my vision. I frown. What the . . . ? I turn toward the shadow, but find nothing. I'm seeing things now. I slug the cognac and head back into the living room."

Wednesday, June 8, 2011

Chapter 24 opens, yet again, with a nightmare from his childhood. Honestly, I skipped most of it. The use of dreams is supposed to make me feel bad for Christian, but it does not. Especially since he's now having them at the beginning of every chapter. Take some Nyquil or something, dude. Melatonin is great for dreamless sleep. OR, you could stop being the world's worst twenty-seven-year-old and I imagine the dreams would take care of themselves.

After going back to sleep, Christian wakes up, once again with the feeling that someone has just touched him. I doubt I'd be sleeping without security in my apartment at this point if I had that kind of money, but whatever. I guess he can handle himself. Now that he's awake, he decides to go for a run.

"Her street is quiet except for the rumble of a delivery truck and the out-of-tune whistling of a solitary dog walker. Her apartment is in darkness, the curtains to her room closed. I keep a silent vigil from my stalker's hide, staring up at the windows and thinking. I need a plan - a plan to win her back." -- and I'm assuming it's going to start with supernaturally climbing to her window, opening it, noticing the squeaking and vowing to bring oil next time, and then watching her sleep. oh, wait. wrong book.

On his way to the office (I think?) Christian calls his receptionist and asks her to go over his schedule. She had cancelled all of his engagements that week, aside from the one he was supposed to attend with Ana - Jose's photography show. At his desk, he begins to craft an email to Ana.

"Dear Ana.

No.

Dear Anastasia.

No.

Dear Miss Steele.

Shit!

Half an hour later, I'm still staring at a blank computer screen. What the hell do I say?

Come back . . . please?

Forgive me.

I miss you.

Let's try it your way.

I put my head in my hands. Why is this so difficult?"

Finally, he gets something.

"Dear Anastasia

Forgive this intrusion at work. I hope that it's going well. Did you get my flowers?

I note that tomorrow is the gallery opening for your friend's show, and I'm sure you've not had time to purchase a car, and it's a long drive. I would be more than happy to take you - should you wish.

Let me know." -- in what world does he even think Ana would want him there?

Surprisingly, she answers rather quickly.

"'Hi Christian

Thank you for the flowers; they are lovely.

Yes, I would appreciate a lift.

Thank you.'

Relief floods through me; I close my eyes, savoring the feeling.

YES!" -- oh. alright then. I guess she does want you there.

The emails go back and forth a few more times, hashing out the time that Christian will pick up Ana. After Ana's final email, he notices that she works for a man named Jack Hyde (he will be important in Book 2), and calls Ros to get background and whatnot on him. He meets Taylor outside, and has an interesting transport request.

"'Where to, sir?' Taylor asks, as I stretch out in the back of the SUV.

'The Mac store.'

'On Northeast Forty-Fifth?'

'Yes.' I'm going to by Ana an iPad." -- sure, because she's always taken so kindly to you throwing money at her.

I think he's back at his apartment now - this chapter jumps around a lot so I can never be sure - and he is putting a playlist together for Ana on the iPad she never asked for. He isn't sure what music should be added, and naturally, his mind strays to other things.

"I recall her impassioned plea the night I introduced her to my parents. 'I want you to make love to me.' How shocked I was by her simple statement - and yet all she wanted was to touch me. I shudder at the thought. I have to make her understand that this is a hard limit for me - I cannot tolerate being touched." -- take it down a notch, man. 

"I shake my head. You're getting ahead of yourself, Grey - you have to close this deal first. I check the inscription on the iPad.

Anastasia - this is for you.

I know what you want to hear.

This music on here says it for me.

Christian

Perhaps this will do it. She wants hearts and flowers; perhaps this will come close." -- I mean..... telling someone "This is what you want to hear, so here it is." is not exactly what anyone would call romantic. But okay.

Thursday, June 9, 2011

This chapter - again - opens with a dream. This chapter is also only 3/4 of a page long. There are only 2 sentences in the whole thing that are not part of his dream. It begins with Christian at the doctor, then transitions to piano lessons, and then finally, Ana.

"Beautiful Ana, sitting with me as I play a fugue, a prelude, an adagio, a sonata. She sighs, resting her head on my shoulder, and she smiles. I love listening to you play, Christian. I love you, Christian. 

Ana. Stay with me. You're mine. I love you too.

I wake, with a start.

Today, I win her back."

Anticlimactic, I know. I wasn't sure what to expect in the final chapters, so I can't really say I was disappointed. Even though I totally was. Christian's moping didn't deserve the 45 pages it got. 

This blog will be continuing after a brief hiatus so I can move to Scotland. The next book I'll be going through is called Rudolph and was written by a local author in Washington State. It will be a very short recess from ELJ and her terrible characters. After, I will resume the World of Fifty Shades, and blog the entire trilogy from the beginning. If you've stuck with me this long, I truly appreciate it. Have no fear. Ana and Christian will be back.

Until next time, my darlings, adieu. 

You're welcome, Kelsey.

Grey: Chapter 20

Or, Saturday, June 4, 2011.

Get ready, kids.

"I wake suddenly, confused. My bedroom is shrouded in darkness, and beside me Ana sleeps, her breathing gentle and even. I prop myself up on one elbow and run my hand through my hair, with the uncanny feeling that someone has just done exactly that. I glance around the room, peering into the shadowy corners, but Ana and I are alone.

Strange. I could swear someone was here. Someone touched me.

It was just a dream." -- I mean, probably it was your escaped and unstable ex-girlfriend, but whatever.

"I stare at the ceiling, the flashing light of the smoke alarm taunting me once more. We have no contract. Yet Ana's here. Beside me. What does this mean? How am I supposed to deal with her? Will she abide by my rules?" -- first of all, inanimate objects cannot taunt you. and be fucking glad the smoke detector is blinking. maybe when someone inevitably tries to burn down your building you'll have enough warning to get out. also, YOU TOLD HER SHE DIDN'T NEED TO SIGN THE CONTRACT. THAT WAS YOU. YOUR FAULT. YOURS. 

Unable to sleep, Christian gets out of bed in favor of playing pretentious music on his piano. Ana gets up, and wants to talk. Christian would rather have sex. Cue shock. Cue awe. Thankfully, Ana manages to ask him one question. 

"'I want to get something straight.' She speaks quietly in my ear.

'Always so eager for information, Miss Steele. What needs straightening out?'

'Us,' she says, and the simple word sounds like a prayer.

'Hmm. What about us?' I pause. Where is she going with this?

'The contract.'

I stop and stare down into her shrewd gaze. Why is she doing this now? My fingers glide down her cheek.

'Well, I think the contract is moot, don't you?'

'Moot?' she says, and her lips soften with the hint of a smile.

'Moot.' I mirror her expression.

. . . . .

The v between her brows is back. 'So, let me be clear. You just want me to follow the rules element of the contract all the time, but no the rest of the contract?'

'Except in the playroom. I want you to follow the spirit of the contract in the playroom, and yes, I want you to follow the rules - all the time. Then I'll know you're safe. And I'll be able to have you anytime I wish,' I add flippantly.

'And if I break the rules?' she asks.

'Then I'll punish you.'

'But won't you need my permission?'

'Yes, I will.'

'And if I say no?' she persists.

Why is she being so willful?

'If you say no, you'll say no. I'll have to find a way to persuade you.' She should know this." -- nope. nooooooope. NOOOOOOOOOPE. Dear Christian: 'NO' DOES NOT MEAN 'PERSUADE ME'. 

So, Ana tells Christian she'll need to review the rules. He goes to print them off and when he returns, she's drinking a glass of water. She asks him if the "obedience thing" still stands and he says yes. In return, she rolls her eyes. *gasp* Christian calls her on it and she says that if he wants to punish her, he'll have to catch her first. After a little faux chasing around the counter, Christian still has not captured her. Disclaimer here: there's gonna be a lot of book text. You need to get it straight from the source right now.

"I stalk her around the kitchen island. 'It'll be worse for you if I have to come and get you.'

'That's only if you can catch me, Christian. And right now, I have no intention of letting you catch me.'

Is she serious?

'Anastasia, you may fall and hurt yourself. Which will put you in direct contravention of rule number seven, now six.'

'I have been in danger since I met you, Mr. Grey, rules or no rules.'

'Yes, you have.'

Perhaps this is not a game. Is she trying to tell me something?"

. . . . . 

"I frown. 'Anyone would think you didn't want me to catch you.' 

'I don't. That's the point. I feel about punishment the way you feel about me touching you.'

And from nowhere the darkness crawls over me, shrouding my skin, leaving an icy trail of despair in its wake.

No. No. I can't bear to be touched. Ever.

'That's how you feel?' It's like she's touched me, her nails leaving white tracks over my chest.

She blinks several times, assessing my reaction, and when she speaks her voice is gentle. 'No. It doesn't affect me quite as much as that, but it gives you an idea.' Her expression is anxious.

Well, hell! This shines a whole different light on our relationship. 'Oh,' I mutter, because I can't think of anything else to say.

She takes a deep breath and approaches me, and when she's standing in front of me she looks up, her eyes burning with apprehension.

'You hate it that much?' I whisper.

This is it. We are really incompatible.

No. I don't want to believe that.

'Well . . . no,' she says, and relief washes through me. 'No,' she continues. 'I feel ambivalent about it. I don't like it, but I don't hate it.'" -- Okay, so I have a lot to say about this. First, I'm sorry for making you read so much of the book. There really was no way for me to accurately portray what was happening otherwise. Moving on. This bothers me a lot. We've all been inside Christian's head for 500 pages now, and we're all very aware how much being touched upsets him (even though we STILL don't know why...). He's all but refused to let Ana touch any part of his body but his dick, and every time she brings it up, he goes into panic mode. We know this. More importantly, ANA knows this. If I'm gonna call out Christian on his emotional manipulation, you'd better believe I'm gonna give Ana hell for it too. YOU DO NOT DO THIS. She starts out saying she feels just as bad about punishment as he does about being touched (and you see his reaction - he's horrified), and backtracks until we arrive at "ambivalent." The definition of ambivalent is being stuck in the middle. Feeling one way about something, but also feeling another way. She's neither here nor there. She doesn't like it, but she doesn't hate it. So no, it doesn't give him any idea about how you feel because the two situations are completely different. You're just telling him you feel like that because you don't want him to punish you. And it's FINE that you don't want to be punished. But jesus, just fucking say no.

You guys fucking belong together.

They talk briefly about how Christian wants to hurt her but won't tell her why because he's afraid she'll run screaming for the hills. So, faced with a dilemma, Ana makes a choice.

"'Show me,' she says.

I don't know what she means.

'Show you?'

'Show me how much it can hurt.'

'What?' I lean back and stare at her in disbelief.

'Punish me. I want to know how bad it can get.'

Oh no. I release her and step out of her reach.

She gazes at me: open, honest, serious. She's offering herself to me once more; mine for the taking, to do with as I wish. I'm stunned. She'd fulfill this need for me? I can't believe it. 'You would try?'

'Yes. I said I would.' Her expression is full of resolve."

She explains that she's confused and trying to work things out. And apparently, the only way to do that is to put herself in a situation that she would likely never be in, ever. He takes her up to the playroom and tells her that after he's shown her how bad it can be, she can make up her own mind. He grabs a belt and tells her to bend over a bench. 

"'We're here because you said yes, Anastasia. And you ran from me. I am going to hit you six times, and you will count with me.'"

I'm not going to put the actual belting scene here. It's painful and uncomfortable and upsetting. Instead, we'll start with what happens immediately after.

"She dashes away her tears with the back of her hand. 'This is what you really like? Me, like this?' 

. . . . .

Why didn't she ask me to stop? She didn't safe-word. She deserved to be punished. She ran from me. She rolled her eyes. This is what happens when you defy me, baby.

She scowls. Blue eyes wide and bright, filled with hurt and rage and sudden, chilling insight.

Shit. What have I done?

. . . . .

'Well, you are one fucked up son of a bitch,' she snarls. 

All the breath leaves my body, and it's like she's whipped me with a belt . . . Fuck!" -- I mean. I hate to say Ana was asking for it, but she literally did ask for it. And she didn't need 6 lashings with a belt to know how fucked up he was. She should have known the second he was like "yes okay let's do it". Or from the moment he tracked her fucking phone 450 pages ago. But he's right. She didn't safe-word. She didn't tell him to stop. Should he have known to stop? Of fucking course. They've talked about how she feels about punishment before. He should have shut this down immediately. But that means ELJ would have to write Christian as a thinking and compassionate person, which we all know is just too much fucking work.

"Now that she knows what's involved, we can move on.

I told her. People like me like inflicting pain.

But only one women who like it.

My sense of unease grows.

Her reaction - the image of her injured, haunted look is back, unwelcome, in my mind's eye. It's unsettling. I am used to making women cry - it's what I do.

But Ana?" 

Christian resolves to let her cry it out - much like a toddler, except nothing like a toddler - and insists that when she's done sobbing, they'll talk things out and everything will be fine. As he's on the floor sulking, a thought occurs to him - what if she's not in the house anymore? What if she's left? Thankfully his fear is abated when he hears her crying from outside her bedroom.

"She's in there, crying.

Oh, thank God." -- I feel like this should not bring you relief, but whatever. Do you.

He lets himself in, after grabbing some cream and Advil (how thoughtful) and lays down beside Ana, drawing her into him. She turns and they exchange pleasantries (somehow she ends up apologizing to him????????). Then, in a single sentence, she brings Christian's world crashing to the ground.

"She swallows nervously. 'I don't think I can be everything you want me to be,' she concedes, her eyes wide with heartfelt sincerity.

The world stops.

Fuck.

We're not safe at all.

Grey, make this right.

'You are everything I want you to be.'

She frowns. Her eyes are red-rimmed and she's so pale, the palest I've ever seen her. It's oddly stirring. 'I don't understand,' she says. 'I'm not obedient, and you can be as sure as hell I'm not going to let you do that to me again. And that's what you need - you said so.'

And there it is - her coup de grace. I pushed too far. Now she knows - and all the arguments I had with myself before I embarked on the pursuit of this girl flood back to me. She's not into the lifestyle. How can I corrupt her this way? She's too young, too innocent - too . . . Ana." 

He decides it'll never work between them and that he has to let her go. She says she doesn't want to go (of course), and he says he doesn't want that either. Then, in a stunning turn of events that literally every person alive saw coming, she tells Christian that she's fallen in love with him. 

"I remember Carrick teaching me to dive. My toes gripping the pool edge as I fell arching into the water - and now I'm falling once more, into the abyss, in slow motion. 

There's no way she can feel that about me.

Not me. No!

And I'm choking for air, strangled by her words pressing their momentous weight on my chest. I plunge down and down, the darkness welcoming me. I can't hear them. I can't deal with them. She doesn't know what she's saying, who she's dealing with - what she's dealing with." -- you're being a little bit dramatic, don't you think?

He goes on to telling her that loving him is wrong, and ELJ somehow passes up the opportunity to make Ana say "If loving you is wrong, I don't want to be right." Ana insists that Christian makes her happy, which is interesting because I feel like she's been miserable for 400 of the 510 pages through which I've traveled. 

"She blinks, her lashes fluttering over her large, wounded eyes, studying me intently as she searches for the truth."

It's baaaaaaaaaaaack

Since Christian has decided that Ana is not allowed to love him, she figures she should leave - which makes total sense, by the way. But Christian is horrified and doesn't want her to leave, even though we've established three times in the last page that he apparently can't make her happy. Ana gets out of bed and tells Christian she'd like some privacy as she cleans herself up. Once she's in the bathroom, Christian is left alone to ponder her feelings for him. As he's moping, Welch calls with no information on Leila other than the fact that she left her husband, which really isn't news at all. 

Ana arrives in the living room, carrying her suitcase. She returns the laptop, phone, and car keys, stating she doesn't want anything to remind her of him. Naturally, Christian takes offense to this ("Are you really trying to wound me?" -- fuck you, Christian, you just beat the shit out of her. let her have this moment to protect her psyche.). She asks Christian for the money that Taylor got for selling her Beetle - you know, the car Christian got rid of without her permission. This, for some inexplicable reason, also offends Christian.

"Money. It always comes down to the fucking money.

. . . . .

Sitting at my desk I call Taylor.

'Good morning, Mr. Grey.'

I ignore his greeting. 'How much did you get for Ana's VW?'

'Twelve thousand dollars, sir.'

'That much?' In spite of my bleak mood, I'm surprised.

'It's a classic,' he says, by way of explanation. 

. , , , ,

I hang up and take out my checkbook from my desk drawer. As I do, I remember my conversation with Welch about Leila's fucking asshole of a husband.

It's always about fucking money!

In my anger I double the amount that Taylor got for the death trap and stuff the check into an envelope." -- "Fucking Ana. I fucking hate her. What could I possibly do, short of beating her again, to show her how deep my hatred goes? Yes. I'll give her twenty-five thousand dollars. Take that, bitch." -- SAID NO ONE EVER. I'd also like to take this moment to say that if I have angered anyone in the past, please, feel free to send me twenty-five thousand dollars of hate money. 

After a couple attempts to get Ana to stay, Christian finally follows her out to the elevator. 

"The elevator doors open and Ana heads straight in. She looks around at me - and for a moment her mask slips, and there it is: my pain reflected on her beautiful face.

No . . . Ana. Don't go.

'Good-bye, Christian.'

'Ana . . . good-bye.'

The doors close and she's gone."

I open at the close.

The chapter (and the book) take a complete turn now, as Ana is pretty much no longer in either. Instead, the remaining 8 pages of this chapter, and the subsequent 36 pages of the book, contain lots of Mopey Christian. In Fifty Shades of Grey, the book ended after Ana left, because it was told from her perspective. But here, ELJ has created another 44 pages of what I'm hoping is plot.

So, after Ana leaves, Christian all but collapses in his foyer, taking particular notice of the paintings on his walls silently mocking him. Because that's what inanimate objects do. They judge.

"She's gone. She's really gone. The best thing that ever happened tome. After she said she'd never leave. She promised me she'd never leave. I close my eyes, shutting out those lifeless, pitying stares, and tip my head back against the wall. Okay, she said it in her sleep - and like the fool I am, I believed her." -- Believed her? You literally just said she said this shit in her sleep? What is there to believe? When I was fifteen, my friend was sleeping over and swears that I asked her to put pancakes in the dryer. Did she? Of course not because she recognizes that people say crazy shit when they're asleep. You didn't tell her what she said, even though she asked numerous times, so she never had the opportunity to confirm or deny her unconscious admission. Instead, you chose to "believe" the words of someone mid-REM. So don't go playing this, "I believed her and she betrayed me" bullshit. It is your fault.

Taylor arrives back at Christian's apartment after driving Ana home. Christian is confused because he's only been sitting in his foyer for 3 paragraphs, which doesn't seem like enough time for Taylor to have made it there and back. Lying there in his agony, which I assume can only look like this:

Christian decides to take a shower, hoping to wash away the pain.

"As I stand I touch the wooden table that dominates the foyer, my fingers absentmindedly tracing its delicate marquetry. I'd have liked to fuck Miss Steele over this. I close my eyes, imagining her sprawled across this table, her head held back, chin up, mouth open in ecstasy, and her luscious hair pooling over the edge. Shit, it makes me hard just thinking about it." -- this really isn't the time, Christian.

Christian gets out of the shower, melancholy as ever. As he's getting dressed, he sees a small box on his pillow. Opening it, he finds a model glider with a note from Ana saying it reminded her of a happy time.

"Some long-lost, ugly memory stirs, trying to sink its teeth into the here and now. No. That is not a place I want my mind to return to. I get up, tossing the box onto the bed, and dress hurriedly. When I'm finished I grab the box and the note and head for my study. I will handle this better from my seat of power."

Sitting at his "Seat of Power", Christian's thoughts turn to Leila, and where the hell she is. Soon, those thoughts turn to Leila in the playroom. And finally, we arrive at Ana. Again.

"Lord, that was so much fun - the equivalent of pulling her pigtails in the playground. Ana in pigtails . . . I shut down that thought immediately. I don't want to go there, our first bath. And all I'm left with is the thought that I won't see her again."

"Christ, that was fun: her girlish excitement during the flight, the squealing, and afterward, our kiss. It was my first attempt at more. It's extraordinary that over such a short time I have collected so many happy memories.

The pain surfaces once more - nagging, aching, reminding me of all that I've lost."

After this bout of pouting, Christian finishes building the glider and Elena calls. He doesn't want to talk to her because he doesn't want to admit that things are over. He hangs up, and goes to find food.

"I examine the contents of my fridge.

Nothing appeals.

In the cupboard I find a bag of pretzels. I open them and eat one after the other as I walk to the window. Outside, night has fallen; lights twinkle and wink through the pouring rain. The world moves on. 

Move on, Grey.

Move on."

36 pages left.