[IC] Edenridge (Page 2) — Roleplayer Guild

She’d had her snack, and Anna was on her way to the restroom to wash her face when father dearest called. They both talked for a moment, primarily about Clarice’s condition. She still remained stable, so that was a good sign. David advised Anna she could go home to get some actual rest since he was on his way to the hospital. Anna was relieved, and thankful. She could change out of her clothes and take a much-needed shower, though the raccoon eyes would remain until she had her proper sleep.

On her way home, Anna had stopped by the store when she ran into none other than Nikolai. She saw him standing at the check-out, paying for a few items, and she immediately did a 180 and started to walk the opposite way. Unbeknownst to her, however, Nikolai had spotted her through the convex mirror positioned over and behind the cashier.

“Well, look who it is. Are you avoiding me now?” he remarked with a smirk, looking over his shoulder at her. Anna stopped, closing her eyes for a moment and sighing before facing him. This on-and-off thing they had had taken its toll on her, and if she was being quite frank with herself, she wished it wouldn’t repeat again. Of course she had feelings for Nikolai, but he was a little too carefree when it came to their relationship in the past, and so Anna felt like she was the one putting in all the effort and doing all the work.

“Please Nik, not now. My mom’s in the hospital.”

His face immediately dropped, and he turned around as well. Nikolai forgot about his surroundings for a moment as he provided his undivided attention to Anna. Deep down, he truly was a caring person, despite oftentimes playing the opposite role. The drinks behind him on the counter were going to be purchased with his fake ID as he was still a few months shy of being 21, but that didn’t mean he was a hardened criminal. Absentmindedly, Nikolai took a few steps forward to embrace Anna in a hug. “I’m sorry to hear that, what happened? What’s wrong?”

Anna nodded in response to his words. “She had a heart attack, but she’s okay for now.” She couldn’t lie to herself, in those brief few seconds he was holding her she felt safe. The warmth radiated off of his body and that was one of the things she missed, but she had to be strong and not allow herself to be drawn in again. At least that’s what she told herself because in the past she had been quite careless. Though the more she thought about it in that moment, the more indecisive she grew as to whether this brief embrace was something she longed for in general or she truly did miss him. “Thank you for asking,” she went on, pulling away from him. “I’m on my way home now to rest so I’ll see you around.”

“Sure thing, it was nice seeing you. Give me a call sometime to let me know how she's doing.”

With a half smile and a wave, Anna made her way towards the door, completely forgetting about the fact that she was there to buy some stuff.

**********

After Anna had had some sleep, she was on her feet again. Failing to notice earlier that day when she got home, this time she glanced over at the counter to see another unopened letter. Great. She grabbed it and took it to her room, tossing it on the dresser. The girl wasn’t sure when she would get around to reading it, but she was having a few busy days.

With her stomach growling, Anna tidied up a bit around the house before stepping out. Despite the fact that she was waking up at odd hours throughout the day, her appetite didn’t seem to suffer one bit. In fact, she believed she was stress eating from everything going on in her life at the moment. Her plan was to stop to grab a bite, because obviously she didn’t feel like waiting any longer to have something to eat, then she would go back to the store to get what she needed. 

In the midst of her being completely distracted by a recipe video she had found online, Anna didn’t notice the person in front of her and accidentally ran into him, dropping her phone and cursing as a result.

“Shit! Sorry, didn’t see you there...”

The girl bent down to reach for her phone and winced in pain. The last thing she needed then was a sprained wrist.

Interacting with: @Metronome

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Hidden 4 yrs ago → 4 yrs ago Post by Hedgehawk

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This was it. The return journey. His prescription painkillers were at this point we're in full effect and for the first time of the day, Aaron felt a soft spring in his step. It wouldn't last long. After an hour the effects of the tablets would wear off and he would be due his next dose. Still the weather was alright and it was rare that he was so pain free while outside. He might as well attempt to try and enjoy himself. The sun was shining and the clouds seemed to be staying away, at least from the sun. 

The bonus effect to having the painkillers finally take hold was the fact that he could walk somewhat faster now, and not rely on his cane to take as much of the weight as it normally did. While he wouldn’t be able to make it home before they weared off, it would at least give him a head start. He knew of a small park close to his house. He used to go there regularly with Amanda…

Amanda. That was a word that Aaron didn’t want to hear in his head. He regularly used his painkiller fueled high to ignore those kinds of thoughts and suppress them. Aaron had managed to keep his entire sanity together using this most certainly not healthy coping mechanism. Aaron had been using it to run away from having to unpack and deal with the emotional damage of everything that had happened to him that fateful night. His heart still ached for the woman. Her locks of hair, that smell she had that Aaron could never quite figure out what it actually was. Everytime he guessed she simply laughed and said that he was way off. But for every single happy memory lodged in his brain, there was another more sinister or more harmful thought there too. For each point of love, there was one of hate. It was a confusing thought process to follow, swinging between the duality of these conflicting emotions. It was why Aaron tried not to think about them. While everyone was pining around Amanda to see if she was okay, and how she was doing, no one stopped to ask if Aaron was okay. The answer was no. Thanks for not asking.

His thoughts had successfully managed to eat away at his enthusiasm to go to the park. Now he just wanted to go home. Climb back into bed and stay there. Perhaps stare at the glow in the dark stars that were stuck to his ceiling above his bed. Edenridge was not a place for Aaron to be in. The community had decided that long ago. 

Aaron began to make the trip back towards home, this time his pace slowed. Despite not being in pain, his mood only exaggerated his bad walk. It was almost as if his body was trying to deliberately shut his legs down. It didn’t help that the prescription bag was in his only other free hand. He had managed to make it down half the main street when he was abruptly and rudely stopped by a male. The male looked in his young 20’s, maybe a few years older than Aaron. He wore a black leather jacket, blue jeans, big boots. He was trying to look all care-free and intimidating. Aaron would be lying if he said he noticed the male, or even remembered him in some way. Living a good portion of the last year under a pseudo house arrest was a great way to forget what anyone looked like. Besides, he didn’t have to wait long for the male to make himself known.

”Oh look, someone let the firestarter out of his house.” It was such a cheesy line. It made the corners of Aaron's face grimace. If someone was going to try and make Aaron’s life hell, then at least be original or at the very least, experimental with it. Either way the male had successfully blocked his path. Aaron attempted to walk around, only for the male to simply adjust his body and block him, At this point they were practically chest to chest. The male had noticed the prescription bag as well and went in for his next jive.

”You set fire to the pharmacy on the way out huh?” Again. Subpar insult. Aaron’s facial expressions began to express more and more anger. Before Aaron could react the male had lifted his arms and shoved Aaron from the shoulders, causing Aaron to stagger backwards. His balance was gone and the only reason he managed to stay standing was the fact that Aaron was able to use his cane as a backstop to keep him upright.

”Someone should have set fire to you. Put a miserable little runt like you out of your misery.” That was it. Aaron wanted to say something. Words formulating in his brain:

”The 50’s called and want their Danny Zuko impression back”

See that was an insult. Sharp, witty. Aaron went to go speak. The words began to form in his mind, firing off towards his tongue. Nothing. No matter how hard he tried, the words wouldn’t come out of his mouth. Visible frustration plastered over Aarons face as he stood upright. He tried once more to speak, to get that tongue to move and produce sounds. But no. Nothing came. Aaron simply charged forward, using his shoulder to bash the male out of the way, who proceeded to yell cuss words at him and warned him to watch his back. Aaron couldn’t give a shit now what the guy was saying. Aaron was angry at himself. Once again he attempted and failed to conjugate.

Aaron needed to get inside and away from the world right now. He was only a minute walk from the family diner, which had become his new destination. Entering the classic diner, He was greeted by his mother standing behind the counter, looking tired and haggard. Her expression dropped when she saw Aaron infront of her. Both worry and tiredness. She went to speak but Aaron simply lifted his pinky finger and rubbed it down his nose in a single streak. That was all she needed to know. This message had been conveyed many times before. She gave a small smile as she let Aaron sit down at a booth and stare out of the window and wallow for a moment.

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Hidden 4 yrs ago Post by NeoAJ

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The morning was a blur. The room was a blur. The clothes were a blur. Everything was a blur.

Probably because Jillian was still somewhat reeling from the wake-up call, but it was an apt description of the past... month? Two months? It was hard to tell at this point. Everything ran together.

Knowing that she could probably expect a response at some point from Mei, she went through the motions of getting ready to be outside of her room, while not expecting to do so for long. In the old days, this was a meticulously choreographed routine. From how many brushes her lashes got from the mascara wand, to the right amount of peanut butter to smear on her toast, the Jillian O'Brien of the Edenridge days was a well-oiled machine. Now? Jill glanced around the scattered clothing on the floor, wondering if she could get away with wearing anything for a second day. Nah. Mom's seen me in all of these at this point... She begrudgingly went to her wardrobe to pick out a fresh outfit of an oversized black Bruins tank top and a pair of jean shorts, both salvaged from a thrift store when she thought she would need clothing more for comfort than style. It was all she really cared to put on at the moment. Makeup? That was a joke question, right?

She trudged out of her ground-floor room and into the kitchen where her mother sat at the table, clearly in the midst of getting ready for work, but Shannon O'Brien's ears worked just fine. "Hey Jilly! Help yourself to whatever is left on the stove. It'll probably be ice cold by the time Grace gets to eating. She turned around for a moment, but after confirming her youngest daughter's presence, went back to presumably scanning whatever paper she had in front of her.

Jillian stared down at the melange of hash browns, scrambled eggs and the couple strips of bacon that had been left out. In lighter times, there wouldn't be a scrap left after Ronan and Kieren had gotten through the offerings. But of course, they had moved on to bigger and better things. For Jillian, that better thing was the idea to avoid having to put much effort into making this a meal. She fished a tortilla out of a pack from the pantry, placed it on a plate, and dumped all the contents from the stove onto it.

The sound of the fridge opening made Shannon turn around again, spotting the pile Jillian had made. "Honey bean, what are you doing?"

Jillian stood defiantly with the jar of salsa in her hand. "What? It's a breakfast burrito. If anything, I'm being very efficient."

"OK, Rachael Ray," she answered as she sipped the last of her coffee. "Not going to argue. Just, don't get it all over your room, OK? Don't need ants again."

"I won't. I'll just get it on me. Then the ants can have me."

Shannon sighed in resignation. "Just... try to get outside for a bit, OK? It's a beautiful day today. You don't want to waste it cooped up in your room."

That earned a shrug and a retreat from Jillian. "Seems like a great time to me..." she mumbled to herself as she took her breakfast hall back to her room. 

A couple of bites hit her mouth as she plunked the plate down on her dusty vanity, the mirror long faded over with detritus, much like the pictures that refused to come down. She went back to her phone and saw the message from her best friend and drinking partner. "Least someone understands me." She looked around her room for a second time, this time wondering if any bottles still held what she needed. It looked like half the Smirnoff somehow survived yesterday's battle, so that was a start. Still, she would probably need more. Maybe Ronan's skeezy friend Kevin was working at the convenience store today. That would be an easy way to restock. She stuck the vodka in a backpack as she nibbled at her breakfast while scouring the area. The only thing that stopped her was the pebble that came flying at her window.

While secretly hoping another dumb bug pinged itself off the glass, Jillian looked out and saw her friend, ready and waiting, answering the call for another round. Mei seemed to be the only one left in the town that Jillian could actually talk to about, well, anything and everything. Certainly not her family. They just wanted happy Jilly back. That girl was gone. At least Mei embraced her for who she was, and for that, she had the O'Brien girl's absolute loyalty. 

Jillian lifted the window of the room, struggling at first given how long it had been since she allowed fresh air to breeze through her room, but eventually lifting the heavy pane up to grant access. "Hey there, Midnight Rider. Glad the daytime ain't stoppin' ya. You wanna come in, or should I join ya out there? I can share my breakfast burrito if you're dying for a snack."

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Hidden 4 yrs ago Post by Prosaic

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@Aces Away


He drove in relative silence towards the bakery, worry gnawing at his brain like a dog with a chew toy. He didn't like the tone of Decky's message, it could imply a lot of things. It wasn't that Nolan kept many  secrets or that he had much to hide but no one was upfront about everything, especially when he'd been asked not to tell Decky everything. He, at least, couldn't be blamed for everything Decky didn't know. He, however, absolutely could be blamed for things Lanie didn't know. 

In a way, he felt bad for not being upfront about the fact that he and Decky had stayed tight over the years but he knew it would only upset her and he liked to pretend that there was something to the saying what you don't know, won't hurt you. He knew that the sky would fall inevitably, that was the nature of secrets, they snowballed until they barreled you over entirely. He just hoped they wouldn't barrel him over directly into the base of a tree.

Wishful thinking.

He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, waiting for Decky's response. Seconds passed, minutes passed... and finally he heard the cheerful chime of his phone in the console. He grabbed it immediately, idling at the red light to scan over the text. He knew he shouldn't panic but it was hard not to. The words that jumped out at him first were "I was pissed" and he found himself fixated on that for a moment before forcing himself to read the rest.

Anxiety was like that, it liked to pick and choose what information mattered, but he knew better. He understood why the letters would upset him. They upset him and he hadn't even lost anyone to that maniac. He swallowed down his panic and responded perhaps a breath too quickly, fingers flying over the buttons before the light changed overhead, the result of this was multiple texts in a string sent to Decky.

- Oh. The letters.
- I didn't know that he'd show you those, to be honest. They've had me freaked out, I've been kind of pretending they don't exist.
- Someone's idea of a bad prank, I think, I hope.
- I'm sorry I didn't mention them.
- I don't have a shift today, they want me to come in to arrange some stuff. I should be done in no time, but don't hurry on my account.Nolan

He knew he was coming off nervous, but it was hardly anything new. Decky had known him long enough now to know that he tended to way over think things. He was quick to arrive at the bakery but he was left to muddle through his thoughts as he set to work on fixing up the displays inside.

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Hidden 4 yrs ago → 4 yrs ago Post by LovelyComplex

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FT. Charlie Decker @BrutalBx

The hues of the early morning unraveled as a promise kept. Sun rays of brilliant colors eased their way through one of the windows of the James household bringing the freshness of a new day to a restless girl. Her hair was rich and deep, full of pure waves of the Earth. Her skin was that of enchanting snow, which only made the rose in her cheeks stand out strikingly so. Her hands, though dainty, had smeared lead and small calluses. Clearly, she was a girl who spent her days with a practical love and didn’t mind getting her hands dirty.  

Her name was Penelope James and this was how she liked to spend her mornings.    

Taking in the fall air, as she leaned against the window ledge, the understated gem, who wore nothing but a thin tank and plaid shorts, found herself turning to the next page of a book of someone that was dead, but not really. Someone that understood the situation of living through such terrible times, yet is an inspiring testament to the human spirit and how we all, regardless of where we come from, have a right to freedom.  Books, where pen meets paper, wait to speak their truths and welcome you to a conversation of preserving ideas. Ideas that could be fleeting and elusive as dreams, but if you let it, they could be a philosophy that shines a new way of thinking, ultimately living on forever, in the heart and mind of the reader. 

Serene and in the peace of her solitude, surrounded by perfect temperature, ambience, and a treasure chest of nature’s colors, Penelope whispered to herself a quote out loud, “As long as this exists, this sunshine and this cloudless sky, and as long as I can enjoy it, how can I be sad?” Call her a nerd or whatever, but without knowledge and a bold heart, how would positive change happen in history? The catalyst of change was caused by those whose minds were racing between education and catastrophe. Maybe this is why she preferred non-fiction genres, especially biographies, autobiographies, and memoirs. These stories show that while you have little control over who lives, who dies, and who tells your story, there can be at least one person that keeps your memory alive. The flame that could go out continues to burn because someone is thinking of you. 

Smiling to herself, her mind and heart completely invested in the story of Anne Frank, she sat down on the window ledge, savouring every bittersweet, joyous, and heartbreaking part of this autobiography, in no rush to go to the ending, simply living in the ‘in-between’ — the good, the bad, and the ugly. She had time to spare, knowing well enough that her mother was in the kitchen drinking coffee and reviewing her monthly expenses, her father was already gone for the day, catching up on paperwork at the station, and her sister was still sleeping like a dead man. 

Penelope loved the morning.

“You know, if any other pervert saw you in the window looking like that, they’d probably put you in the back of a van, you know that right?”

The deep voice came from behind, followed by a tall, lanky frame pushing his way through the small window and not so gently pushing Penelope off of her ledge. Crumpling to the floor face first, ass up in air, the “intruder” did a not so graceful forward roll that would make the Edenridge Cheerleaders hate him even more than they already did.

“Uh-huh.”

“Lucky for you, I’m your own personal private pervert so you’re fine.”

“Is that lucky though?” She teased, staring at her next door neighbor through her peripheral vision. “If anyone is going to kidnap me, it’ll probably be you.” Poppy dramatically rolled her eyes, bringing in more sass than she intended, before reaching for her bookmark. Once her book was closed, she left it on her dresser and made her way to her best friend. Gazing at him, Poppy amusingly eyed his movements as he struggled to get back on his feet. “One day you’ll stick the landing. When that day comes, I'll let you in on a secret, but until then…” The half dressed freshman mouthed, “...My lips are sealed.”

Standing at his full recent six foot frame, the raven haired boy bowed like a failed magician at the beautiful brunette. The mention of a secret was not lost on him but he decided not to acknowledge it. With Penelope it could’ve been anything. It could be what she had for lunch yesterday or perhaps it was the last great mystery of the universe solved by a freshman high school girl from Massachusetts? Or maybe, just maybe, it was three little words, three syllables that he had been waiting to hear for ten years. Words he longed for but feared oh so terribly.

Charlie had been climbing through Poppy’s window for the better part of those long ten years but not once has he ever stuck the landing. The last time he used her front door was in second grade at her birthday party and even then, that was only because Logan had pushed him off of the bouncy house and he had cut open his cheek. Nurse Poppy made it all better though. A little kiss to take the pain away and a sick Power Rangers band aid to make him feel like a badass ignited feelings that he has held close ever since. 

Breaking away from time long past, he began, “I brought breakfast,” Charlie slung his bag off of his shoulder and unzipped the large back section to take out an obviously piping hot brown paper bag. “Fresh from the Pancake Diner, four Grammy nominated bagels with an assortment of toppings for m’lady, just leave me the one with cream cheese. You know I do love the shmear.”

“Aw shucks!” Penelope went to the bag he was holding up and took a peek, getting a nice waft of toasted bagels, “A man after my own heart,” she beamed. 

Fixedly looking up him with her big, fun-loving eyes, purposely for a moment too long, she decided to pull away and walk backwards. Stretching her arms up high, revealing more of her stomach, she casually ordered, “You know the drill, if you want to eat on my bed put a towel on it. If not, there’s always the floor. I’m going to throw some clothes on real quick.”

Charlie tried and failed not to look at his friend as she stretched. They were hidden together in her room like they always had been, just the two of them. In their own private world how could he not notice her? It was a fated kind of thing; Charlie and Poppy were meant to be together, everybody knew that except for them, apparently. He lay a towel down on the bed as requested and took a bite out of some toasted goodness.

”Don’t be long, I got English with Beau first class today and he will kick my ass if I’m late again.”

With that, she nodded and scurried to her bathroom, which was connected to her sister’s room too. 

In the bathroom, she had some clothes waiting for her on hanging hooks. If her mom walked in on them with her wearing something this skimpy that would be the end of her. Her nipples were showing through the tank too. Ugh. She had to do better. 

”Fuck, get it together Decker...”

Charlie sat down onto her bed with their breakfast and reached into his bag again, pulling out his latest read. Many might consider it a great juxtaposition that someone who looked like him, dirty flannels, black jeans, and a leather jacket that he didn’t know who Mark Twain or F Scott Fitzgerald were. Yet if one were to venture to the other side of Penelope’s window and into Charlie’s own bedroom you’d see a collection of books, grabbed from yard sales, thrift stores, and e-bay. First editions of forgotten classics and poetry. There were times where Poppy would look for some attention, knocking on his window trying to get him to go on some adventure but Charlie would be too engrossed in his literature to notice. She hated that and he knew she hated that.

He turned the page of his book, taking another bite from his bagel. ”If you don’t get a move on, Pops, I’m eating your breakfast. I don’t even give a fuck.”

“Don’t you dare!” Jesus. No chill at all. He never gave her enough time to get ready! Then again, she had a whole hour to get ready but instead she chose to read her book. Before changing into anything, she knocked on the door that connected to her sister’s room, “Max! You better be up.” Ever since her sister got her driver’s license, she’s been sleeping in later and later. Well, it doesn’t help that she stays up all night being an overachiever. 

Groggily on the other side, her sister muttered, “I’m up, I’m up. I hear Charlie. Tell him I said hi.”

“Max says hi!” Poppy called out to the boy waiting on her bed. Fortunately for the impatient boy, she only needed to throw on a big t-shirt dress, black knee-highs, a jean jacket, and her overly used boots. Poppy was usually a jean kind of girl. Ripped or not ripped, she just liked pants. However, this year, she felt like taking a page or two out of Jade’s book and exploring the grunge style to look cute (maybe even sexy one day). Quickly, she applied makeup to give her eyes more of a pop, put a mid-tone warm nude matte lipstick on her lips, and finished her ensemble by adding a choker on. 

Eh.

Not anything the cheerleaders would notice, but she liked it. It was simple, yet still made her look attractive, in a comfy kind of way. Finally, she opened the door and rushed to the bed, hopping on it to get her bagel with strawberry cream cheese. Not starting up a conversation just yet, Poppy focused on devouring some of her bagel. After she chewed what she swallowed, she asked, “How’s your mom? She doing okay?”

“Some days are better than others,” Charlie sighed as he closed his book and put it to one side. “Yesterday she had full vision, today she can only see out of her left eye. She’s trying to play it down but…” He began to fiddle with the ring on his left index finger, as he often did when he was uncomfortable or stressed out. Normally he wouldn’t divulge this kind of stuff but Penelope had always been different to most people. “The bills are stacking and working in the chop shop with Rey Rey isn’t cutting it. Decky mentioned he might have a spot on the corner for me.”

For as long as he could remember it has always just been Charlie and his mom. She worked day shifts at the Pancake Diner, nights at the Hole in the Wall or Edge of Sin and everything else she could in between to pay the bills. Charlie’s father was long dead and it was his actions that brought shame to the family. He was the reason the Deckers struggled. Charlie did what he could but it was never enough. 

“But that’s a last resort obviously,” He backtracked as much as he could, despite seriously considering the offer from Triple S. “Anyway, you want this book after I’m done? It’s Infinite Jest by David Foster Wallace.”

Frowning as she listened to him, hating the sight of Charlie feeling like this and struggling so much, but also glad that getting involved with Triple S was a last resort for him, Poppy muttered to his question, “Yeah that’s fine.” She knew very well he didn’t want to continue to talk about this topic, but she cared too much to stay silent. Wiping her hands on her towel, Poppy got off her bed and went to retrieve something. 

Gradually going on her knees to the floor, she pulled out a box from under her bed. When the lid was off, there rested a medium sized, old piggy bank and a few jars filled with coins and cash. Charlie would know this to be Poppy’s savings, from when she was small, all her allowances that she never spent, in order to help her family with emergencies and prepare for college. Placing it on the bed in front of him, she apologetically offered, “I know it probably isn’t enough but every penny counts, Charlie. And—”

”Put it away Poppy!” Charlie snapped back. He was never short with Penelope, never unless something was wrong. He didn’t want her charity and he could never ask her to give up something for him. It’s not like she was a millionaire herself. ”That's yours. I’ll figure something out.”

Frustrated but unwilling to show her, the Native American boy followed her off the bed and moved towards the window where he first entered the room.

”The smallest act of kindness is worth more than the grandest intention; Oscar Wilde. I appreciate the thought, Pops, but you already do enough for me. You give me a reason to get out of bed.” He smiled at her before opening up the window, preparing to climb out. 

”Last person downstairs has to eat the mystery meat for lunch!”

●

When Charlie started to climb out, his voice faded away and his image disappeared in thin air. Charlie was no longer here. He was gone. It was as if he never visited and she was standing by her bathroom door looking at a room, unlike the one she remembered. The vibrant colors of years before didn’t seem to hold true anymore. Even if it was summer everything looked and felt bleak. The sunlight was only a mirage because if the sun was actually out, if there was warmth and light coming through her window, she wouldn’t feel so tired and empty. She would want to go out and play. At least that’s what the Poppy of yesteryear would do. 

A throbbing migraine, both bitter and sweet, ran from her head through her veins and to her heart, causing her chest to swell. Most days no therapy, no pill, and no person could make this overwhelming sensation go away. She surveyed her room. A colossal amount of clothes, puzzle pieces, and memories blocked her sight from seeing the floor. Her bed, the only discernible thing in this room, was left untouched. It felt like someone hadn’t slept on it for days, months, maybe a year even. 

Time evaded her, but that was okay. It was her day off. Stumbling her way to her closet, she forcibly pushed it open, the door seemingly stuck because of the surrounding mess. There she knelt down looking at a couple of boxes with Charlie’s name on it. Opening one, she shuffled through it, trying to look for another hoodie, since his other ones needed to get washed, and pulled out his leather jacket instead. 

How long has this been in here?  

Curiosity crossed her mind and she tried it on. Heh. Charlie is so big in comparison to her. Lethargically pushing herself up, she walked to her wall, by her entrance door, where a mirror used to be and stopped in her tracks, “Oh.” That’s right. She no longer had access to mirrors anymore. Lifting her right hand up, she examined the healing wounds of cuts from shards when she tried to hurt herself. 

Sighing, not thinking too deeply into it, Penelope found her feet moving on its own accord and there she was, looking at a letter she placed on her desk. An unread letter addressed to her. How much did time pass since she went downstairs to check the mail and see any notes on the fridge left by her parents? Thirty minutes? An hour? Two? Who knows. It wasn’t like time mattered. 

This was all just a bad dream and Charlie? Charlie was out with Decky probably getting into trouble. Those two were double trouble, but that’s part of why she loved them so much. Opening her side drawer, meant for files, revealing a novel written by Charlie himself and a pile of letters on top of it, Poppy swept the other letter into the void and closed it, ignoring its existence completely, like she always has.

Grabbing her almost dead phone off the hard surface of her desk, Poppy went down to her knees once more but this time, she dropped to her side to look at her messages. Her fall was softened by her clothes. She was wearing an outfit she picked out for yesterday, which included sweatpants, a big t-shirt of Eeyore from Winnie the Pooh, and the teardrop necklace of her sister’s ashes. A new addition for the moment, Charlie’s leather jacket, but she would likely change into a hoodie before she left the house. He would tease her if he caught her wearing his jacket and she would be damned if she gave him the satisfaction. 

Instead of looking at new messages, she found herself opening a text from Charlie asking her to meet up at the gym. Her eyes glazed over at the texts after that, where she had frantically messaged him throughout the year, his phone still being in service but paid by her parents. Exasperatedly sighing, she sent a message: Let’s meet tonight. 

Hesitantly, she started adding ‘I miss you’ but was quick to delete it and instead sent: Do you remember the secret I never told you?

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Hidden 4 yrs ago → 4 yrs ago Post by Metronome

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He wasn't sure where he was. It was foggy and dark, and almost certainly not the brightly lit street he'd expected to step out into. He'd...left the store, right? Orren squinted as he glanced around, and took a few cautious steps. When nothing happened, he continued on into this strange new world. 

Words echoed from around him, but he wasn't sure what they were saying. They didn't seem to be talking to him, so Orren decided to mind his own business as per his usual policy. That was until one voice called his name. It was warm and familiar, and the world began to spin. He felt like he was on a tiny boat being sucked down a tub drain. He stumbled and whack!

His path led directly into another person. "Cora?" He mumbled softly before he fully awoke from the sleepwalk he'd slipped into. Orren blinked. He was outside the cafe. How did he get here? He'd just been at the store...Time and space were still real, right?

"Oh!" He finally noticed the young woman he'd run right into. "I'm sorry, I was..." Hallucinating? Tripping balls? What the hell was that just now? Neither sounded like a good response. "...uh, lost." He blinked slowly, his dull eyes filled with exhaustion and marked with dark circles under each. Orren was barley recognizable from the boy that had graduated just a year ago. He was thin, pale, and looked like he could be a poster child for meth, all while not even getting to experience the high. At this point, Orren just assumed everyone thought he was on drugs. And, for the most part, he was right. 

"Is your phone okay?" The last thing he needed was to be held liable for damaged property.

@Fever Dream

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Hidden 4 yrs ago Post by BrutalBx

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Waiting for her friend; Mei scanned through the latest of the not so beautifully departed Charlie’s journal entries. She had never been particularly close with Decker; they grew up together and were always civil and courteous. She found him to be polite and well spoken and she couldn’t lie, he was hot. At six foot and change with muscles and bangs framing his face were he not a serpent he would’ve fit right in with the Francis’ and David’s of the Basketball team.

Thinking back as she stared at the page in front of her; Mei could remember all the times where she would see Charlie around town, scribbling into a little brown leather book. At the time she never thought much of it but in hindsight it was obvious that he was trying to express his feelings on a page because he couldn’t do it in real life. He was always flanked by that girl...what was her name? Pippa? Poppy? Most would assume she was his girlfriend though as someone who prides herself in knowing everything, to Mei’s knowledge that wasn’t the case. 

Interrupting her train of thought was the sound of a certain fiery redhead calling out from a window. “Hey there, Midnight Rider. Glad the daytime ain't stoppin' ya. You wanna come in, or should I join ya out there? I can share my breakfast burrito if you're dying for a snack."

With a rare smile on her face, the gothic priestess waved towards her friend ”Get your sexy ass down here. We’re going out and we’re staying out!” Mei called back toward her girl before returning to the letter.

The subject of Charlie’s latest journal was something that was all too sadly close to both Mei and Jillian’s hearts; Allison. December 4th 2016 was a horrid day for many reasons. It was cold, it was snowing, Reagan and most of the other cheerleaders were sick with the flu so Mei and her freshman cheerleading squad were forced to join Allison at the Shining Star competition. Something was different about Ally that day though, she seemed off, not herself. She was desperate to beat those damn Pinehurst Monarchs like her life depended on it and considering how the night ended, with Allison in a body bag, Mei often wondered, did it?

As she raised her head from her phone, a set of dark eyes locked with her own. Rey Rey Gonzalez was a scourge amongst Edenridge society. He was the current leader of the South Side Serpents, a twenty something whose daddy didn’t love him enough so he’s gone a little insane. Big Rey may have been a criminal but he was a part of the community, giving to charity and protecting the area from offcomers who attempted to break the harmony. Rey Rey was an entirely different monster; violent, vile and vicious; all of which he masked behind a handsome face and charming demeanour. Mei was sure he knew more of this town's secrets than anyone else; how else would he get away with the things he did? The horrid man winked in her direction before walking into the nearby park; a short cut to his little slice of hell on the south side; the Edge of Sin.

One ReyRey had vanished into the overgrowth of the park; Mei moved her attention to her friend who was leaving her home; a rarity unto itself. ”Hey Queen, you ready to get fucked up?”

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Hidden 4 yrs ago Post by Aces Away

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Aces Away Phantom by Circumstance

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Collab with @BrutalBx
Mentioned: @Prosaic

Mordechai came back to about ten minutes later, draped across Sonny and feeling...well, warm. the next hour or so was spent talking to the crew and telling them what he'd been up to the past 2 years. He wasn't surprised to hear that drug sales have been up, that tends to happen when towns suffer tragedies and the shooting wasn't even the first. Everyone here was so happy to see him, and he didn't even realize how much he missed the Family that came with the Serpents. Eventually, after several more shared blunts and a few shots of alcohol, Sonny got his attention by waving his phone around.

"Hey Mob, I told Rey Rey you were back! He wants ya ta come ta the Edge an' say hi." Sonny told him. That reminded Mordechai that he was waiting on a text from Nolan, and he quickly pulled out his phone for a glance. With a bit of regret, he realized he had let his phone die again and couldn't see if Nolan had replied. He slipped his phone back into his pocket and smiled at Sonny.

"Sure Sunshine, I'd love to see Rey Rey. I'll have to charge my phone when we get there, yeah?" He allowed Sonny to pull him up and out of the house. Before leaving, Sonny stopped at the door and kissed two fingers before touching them to a photo on the wall almost subconsciously, and Mordechai looked up in confusion before feeling his heart stutter. "What…what's this?" He asked while wincing at how strained his own voice sounded. Sonny looked at him and his eyes softened at whatever he must have seen on Mordechai's face.

"Sorry, I guess we didn't think about that. We put him up after the funeral, and we show him love every time we leave. It's sorta become a ritual for us." Because on that wall was a picture of Daniel Aaron Boaz, the frame well worn from touch but the glass still shining and well maintained. He took a moment to compose himself and let the fist sized lump in his throat calm down.

"It's awesome you guys," he said quietly in the heavy silence, raising his own two finger kiss to the frame."Thank you." Sonny gently tightened his grip and started pulling again, and they walked together down the street to the Edge of Sin, knocking against each other and laughing while the tears dried in the breeze.

Sonny pulled him through the doors that he once used to burst through with confidence, and his first breath was like breathing in a new life. Or rather, an old life that he'd missed like...like a brother. He'd brought Danny here to clean them up after another attack from their parents so many times he'd lost count. The girls that weren't working yet or were on break loved talking to him and coddling him, and every Serpent treated him like a little brother, getting Danny accustomed to affection and touch in a way Mordechai never would have been able to do alone. He tightened his grip on Sonny's hand as the other man pulled him to the back doors that led to Serpent Business, and he didn't even hesitate to pass the threshold.

And there, in all his scars and glory, was Rey Rey Gonzalez.

Circling a bloodied and beaten up gang member like a shark eyeing its victim, Rey Rey held a mask aloft with his hand “When I was kid, my Papi always used to take me back to Mexico. Normally he had some business with the cartels down there so he’d leave me with my Uncle Pedro…” As he spoke, the leader of the Southside Serpents caught sight of a figure in the doorway, one he had not seen in two years. 

Licking his lips, he continued  “He used to take me and my cousin Rico to the Consejo Mundial de Lucha Libre and I was enamoured. The Luchadores were flying everywhere, their costumes were colourful, it was like real life superheroes, yet it wasn’t until I went home with my old man that he dropped some knowledge on me..” Throwing the mask onto the lap of his tied up compatriot, Rey Rey sucked the air through his teeth and threw off his leather jacket. ”He taught me about the history and the power of the mask. A Luchadores mask is his identity, his lifeblood, it’s what makes him, him. They wear them in public to hide their identity but that was their mistake. You see, that mask you have in your lap belongs to El Cuerno...the Hunter...my grandfather. You probably wonder why I’m telling you all this…”

Rey Rey took the Cuerno mask back into his hand and slipped something out of his back pocket. ”It's simple really…” Placing the object into a slip on the mask, Rey Rey donned the hood and his dark, remorseless eyes went feral “I wanted to give you some culture before I kill you.” Within seconds, Rey’s head came crashing into the defenceless face of the tied up man. Over and over again he smashed skull against skull, holding the poor saps head in place with his increasingly bloodied hands as he opened up all kinds of wounds upon his victims' visage.

Finally coming to a halt, he spat blood through a hole in the mask and darted his wild gaze over to Decky. “You still got it in you Boaz?” Reaching behind his desk he tossed Mordechai a baseball bat. “Or have you gone soft?”

"Fuck, have I missed watchin' you work." he replied breathlessly, pausing a moment to look at the bat before gripping it tight in his hands. He knew he didn't need to ask what this guy had done, Rey Rey always had his reasons behind things and it never was very smart to question it. Mordechai used to have a little give with his loyalty and status in the hierarchy, but he wasn't fool enough to think he could push at all after having just returned. He approached the bloodied man, who had amazingly retained consciousness throughout the beating. He looked the man dead in his swollen eyes and tilted his head, completely disconnecting from his emotions in the way that made him so valuable as a Corner Captain and sometimes Enforcer. It's not like he had Danny to worry about anymore, he could give into his baser instincts without risking losing his little brother now."Yeah Rey Rey, I think I got more'a it in me than before."

He lined the bat up and swung out, catching the man in the side so hard the chair scooted over an inch. Over and over, he made sure he targeted the spots that won't kill you but won't let you move too easy either, ensuring that this guy has a lasting reminder of whatever Rey Rey wanted on every part of him. When Mordechai finished, he turned back around to Rey Rey with a feral grin, some blood splattered across his face. "Thanks, I needed that." He said,licking his lips and smearing a bit of the blood.

"Fuck, that was hot," Sonny breathed from his place by the door, before wincing. "Sorry, Rey Rey."

”Sonny get the fuck outta here before I kill you my own damn self.”

As the door slammed shut behind a fleeing Sonny; Rey Rey with gazelle type speed darted over to Decky and punched him straight in his bloodied mouth, sending the smaller man reeling for a moment. He tore off the lucha mask to reveal his own blood soaked face and pulled Decky into a deep, firm hug. ”Welcome home, kid,” The leader of the Serpents pressed a kiss to the boys neck as he held him close. ”Don’t you fucking dare leave us again. We’re family”

He'd swear up and down to anyone else that he was tearing up from the punch, but as he licked his bloody lip Mordechai gripped Rey Rey tight as the older man held him in his embrace, and he began shaking. 

"I- I couldn't. I couldn't be here and go to the funeral and see him gone like that. I couldn't look anyone in the face when I knew I'd failed him. I was right there and couldn't do anything." he unloaded from the safety of his face pressed against Rey Rey's chest. "I'm sorry Rey Rey," he choked out, trying to hold in the sobs. "I'm sorry! I'm home now…"

Rey Rey shushed the sobbing boy and held him in silence; the only sound around them coming from the club downstairs and the rabble of ruffians planning out their daily grind to earn the gang some money. ”I got you, no blame Deck.”

A sputtering cough from the man tied to the chair awoke Rey from his momentary distraction. ”Really? You’re really going to interrupt me when you can see I’m having a reunion with my brother here? Shame on you, don’t you have a heart?” He sighed before releasing Decky from his grasp and moving over to his victim. Calmly as he began to reach into a tool box, Rey Rey continued to speak ”Lots changed since you went away young blood, you know I can’t just give you your corner back. Rules is rules. Ain’t that right, Oscar?” With a swing of a hammer he had plucked from the box, the newly identified Oscar’s knee was shattered by Rey.

Reaching once again into the tool box, he pulled out a handful of nails and laid them on the side, save one which he lined up against Oscar’s shoulder. ”Take a day or two to yourself. Spend some time with the boys, I’ll hook up with you another time to sort out what’s next for you.” He drove the hammer down into the nail and dug the rusty iron into his shoulder. 

"I understand Rey Rey," Decky replied, wiping his nose with his arm and heading for the door amidst Oscar's screaming. At the threshold, just before he opened the door, Mordechai looked back one more time at his big brother figure. "Thank you. For everything."

Sonny was on him the moment he closed the door, looking a little jittery. He took in Mordechai's new bruised and swollen lip, his bloodshot eyes and tear streaked face, and threw himself on the other. Decky caught him with ease.

"He seemed pissed today, are you ok?" he asked, cupping Decky's jaw softly. Decky leaned into the touch and closed his eyes, taking a deep breath before adopting a wide smile, splitting his lip a bit more.

"I'm great Sunshine, it was a welcome back punch." he replied, dipping in for a rough kiss with the other man. When he pulled away, his blood was smeared on Sonny's lips and Sonny's pupils were blown wide.

"Y'know," Sonny said weakly before cleaning his throat. "there's a room open down the hall."

Mordechai grinned. "Well, we do need to wait for my phone to charge," he said, gripping Sonny's collar tight and dragging him in the direction of the private rooms, the other man following willingly. "How's about you give me a proper homecoming?"

Later, after both of them have been satisfied and Decky has come down from his adrenaline buzz, he finally turns on his now charged phone and checks the texts with a small frown.

"What's wrong?" Sonny asked, sitting up behind him and molding against his back. 

"Just some shit going down. Apparently I'm supposed to go to the old highschool in a couple hours after having just found out about these fuckin' letters-"

"Whaddya mean letters?" Sonny cut off, hooking his chin over Mordechai's shoulder.

"I fuckin' mean what I said, Sunshine, someone's sendin' out letters with shit people shouldn't know, from something no one should have, and now they want whoever gets the letters to go to the school at 8 tonight. I don't wanna fuckin' go there," he ground out. "It was the one rule I gave Santora before coming back."

Sonny blinked, adjusting to the vague information. "So go and make it stop." he said simply, causing Mordechai's head to whip around towards him. "No seriously, listen: someone is sending you shit you don't want? Thinkin' they're all sly or some shit? Go meet 'em tonight and put a knife in their chest. At least beat their ass or somethin', that's what the Mob I used to know would do."

Mordechai thought about that as he worked his phone around in his hands. He did want to know who was doing this, but it's hard thinking about seeing any of his old classmate's faces, what if Poppy, Bradley or Jade were getting the letters? Or Quinn? What if Lanie was there?

In the end, however, violence won the war in his mind and he set his shoulders with Sonny still hanging off of him.

Outgoing Messages
To: So You Need to Learn How to Punch...
3:00pm

I lost track of time and let my phone die
My bad
But listen…
I'm going to the school tonight
I'm gonna fuckin figure out who sent this shit
And I'm gonna hurt them like they seem to wanna hurt us
Either I'll see you there or I'll see you tomorrow. Hold tight man

"There, y'see? Now we have five hours to kill and a lot for me to catch you up on…" they went the next few hours rotating between giving each other information and making out, letting themselves get lost to the day in a way neither had been able to in a long time.

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Hidden 4 yrs ago → 4 yrs ago Post by Venus

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coGM

Venus So long, and goodnight. ♡

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Venus

So long, and goodnight. ♡

2671 posts

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A @BrutalBx & @Venus Collab
Featuring Roddy Callahan & Lanie Lancaster
Location: Café Beauregard
Interacting With: Each Other, Erin @HaleyTheRandom

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Before Rod could respond to his former teacher's words of warning, the cafe door bell would ring. He turned to see who was entering and Roddy’s eyes lit up as soon as he caught sight of his baby girl. 

"Hey!”

The little blonde was soon in his arms and pulling at his shaggy beard as she often did. He kissed the top of her head and held her tightly in one arm; whilst his other one reached out to Lanie, gently caressing her shoulder for but a second before pulling away. ”As long as you’re both ok, that’s the main thing”

At the mention of a red motorcycle, Rod knew exactly who the so-called ”asshole” was. Edenridge was a small place, everybody knew everybody and a lot of the cars and bikes in the town had been there for as long as Roddy could remember so it wasn’t a stretch to guess who they belonged to. Jade Taylor was the only person he knew in the area with a bike like that and it would just be her style to cut Lanie off. That was a conversation that he didn’t want to have.

”How’s school?” Hs asked as he sat Rylie onto his lap and handed her his phone to play with.

Elaine couldn’t help but let out a loud snort. Leave it to Roddy to kick off the conversation with the very topic she was hoping they could build up towards (considering it would be followed by an even bigger one)... He’d always had a strange sixth sense of being able to pinpoint and bring up the exact topic you were feeling particularly strongly about. “Funny you mention that…” the blonde began, chewing on her cheek as she tried and failed to come up with a better way to say things. She was thankful for the brief interruption of Mr. Beau handing her off her order, as it bought her a little extra time. But in the end, Lanie decided it was best to just rip the Band-Aid right off. “I actually decided to drop out,” she told Roddy, taking a long sip of her latte.

Rod had to do his best not to let his jaw hit the floor. She dropped out of school? Really? He would be lying if he said it didn’t take him by surprise. Rylie was slobbering all over his phone but he didn’t mind so much considering it kept her quiet. ”Well I wasn’t expecting that…” He reached around to the small table by his side with his spare hand and took a sip from his warm drink, being careful not to spill any on the kid. ”What prompted that decision? I thought things were ok there?”

“I mean, they were--” Lanie started to explain, plopping down in the available booth chair in front of Roddy and taking a bite of her food. “But, like, let’s sit down and really think about it for a second. Is it really a good idea for me to be a social worker or a guidance counselor after the amount of shit we’ve gone through? There’s, like, so many unresolved issues I’ve got going on in my life at the moment. I seriously think it’s in everyone’s best interests if I don’t go out and try to help someone else,” she elaborated, taking another sip from her drink. “Not to mention that anytime I try to help the shaggy-haired, broken boys, I somehow end up falling in love with them. God knows that’s the last thing I fucking need right now…” she trailed off, momentarily shooting Roddy a dirty look before taking yet another bite out of her muffin and shrugging her shoulders. “It’s not that big of a deal, though. I think I found something I’m a lot more suited for anyway.”

A pang of guilt struck the man in the heart like a bolt of lightning. That one hurt. She talked of best and in Roddy’s mind, the pair of them ending their relationship was for the best; that didn’t mean he didn’t regret it every single second of every single day since. She was going off to college and pursuing a future; he was stuck, unable to walk or do anything without the aid of someone else. He could barely be the father that he so desperately craved to be. Lanie deserved more. Rylie deserved more. And it was his hope they would find it.

”So what’s this new thing?”

"I'm getting my real estate licence!" the young woman declared excitedly, a hint of pride in her voice. "I think I have the passion, the interest, the right skills and the attitude for it. I've already talked to Di, and she's said that she's going to help me with the school applications, hands-on training experience and anything else that comes up. Mom and Dad are fine with it too. They said that they support me even if they'll miss having Rylie around, but they know it's for the best…" she trailed off, letting the implication of her words hang in the air as she stuffed her face and looked anywhere but at Roddy right now. 

”Wow.” Roddy nodded as he tried to comprehend what she had told him. Did this mean she was moving to Texas? Seeing as that was where her cousin Diana was based it wasn’t a tremendous leap to make that conclusion. No, surely she would tell him straight away. It wouldn’t be the worst thing; after all before what happened, Roddy was actually supposed to be attending college in Austin. Maybe they could make it work? He wasn’t sure what to think or where to go next. ”That actually would be a good fit for you.” All he could do was be supportive, that was the least he could do.

When Roddy’s only words to her announcement were that her new chosen career path ‘could be a good fit for her’, Lanie couldn't help but feel a little bit disappointed at his reaction. She was thankful that he’d been so supportive of her decision, of course: after all, she was only doing what was best for herself and Rylie. But there was still a small part of her that had secretly hoped that he’d be a little more heartbroken over the news-- perhaps hurt enough to make him realize that he was about to lose her. What he said next, however, immediately blew all of those negative thoughts out the window.

Bouncing Rylie on his knee, Rod looked down at the little blonde girl with pride and a smile. He kissed the top of her head before returning his gaze to Lanie. ”So, I got some news too. The Doctors have said that I’ve made decent enough progress that I can pretty much continue my rehab on my own time instead of going to the center...”

“Oh my God, that’s great news!” Lanie cried out, forgetting her bitter feelings just long enough to jump up from her chair and wrap her ex-boyfriend in a tight hug, being careful to not squish their daughter in the process. After what felt like forever, the blonde pulled away, and tears of excitement were already pooling up in her green eyes. Leave it to her to be so damn emotional all the time… She affectionately cupped Roddy’s face in her hands, giving him one the brightest, most blinding smiles she had ever mustered before planting a kiss on his forehead. “Oh my God, Roddy! That’s so amazing! I’m so freaking happy for you!”she repeated, brushing some strands of shaggy dark hair out of his handsome face. “I am so fucking proud of you, Rod. See, I told you you could do it!”

There was a warm feeling as Lanie kissed him that made Rod think of days gone where she was the best thing in his life; days where she was the only reason for him to even get up in the morning. Those days were gone and that was his fault. He wanted nothing more than to make up for his mistake but it was too late; he had made his bed now he had to lie in it.

As their sweet moment was interrupted by the kid trying to knock over his drink, he moved her little hand away. ”Ryles, stop it,” He sighed with an almost laugh before returning to his train of thought, trying to distract himself from the peppering of kisses he had just received. “That said, I wanted to broach the subject of moving closer to you guys. It’s not fair for you to always keep coming here and since I’ve got the go ahead from the docs, I thought why not?”

Roddy’s last words stopped Lanie in her tracks, her face going from joyous to crestfallen in a matter of seconds. “But Rylie and I are moving to Texas…” she mumbled morosely, defeatedly sinking back down in her chair. What were the odds that just when she was trying to make decisions for her little family to move forward, something would happen that would make her question if she was indeed doing what was best for everyone involved? Sure: that was what life was all about, but it didn’t make the circumstances any less sucky.

”Then I’ll come to Texas with you. It’s not even a question,” Roddy interjected almost immediately. There was no way he was going to let Lanie move that far away with Rylie. He already felt like he had missed so much being stuck in Edenridge and if they were to move across the country he would only miss that much more. ”Don’t forget, before…this… I was supposed to go to college in Austin. They let me defer, my spot is still there if I want it. If this is something you want, Lanie-- like, you really want it-- I’m not gonna stop you. I’m just gonna make sure that I’m there for this one and you. Like you’ve been for me.”

No matter how hard she tried, there was no hiding the way Lanie was positively beaming now. She knew she shouldn't be getting her hopes up of their relationship status changing in any way, but just knowing that Roddy was willing to relocate so the entirety of their little family could thrive was more than Elaine could've hoped for.

There was something else Roddy wanted to talk about. He was somewhat hesitant since he didn’t know how Lanie would react but he had to bite the bullet. He brushed his longish hair back before continuing to speak. “That said, my parents want to look after Rylie tonight, if you’re cool with that?” Rod polished off his drink and handed the empty cup to a passing Beau. “And I think you and I should go out tonight. Not a date, just us taking some time to get on the same page again, for her.”

“Leave it to your parents to come up with a sneaky plan like this to try and get us talking again…” Lanie joked with a small chuckle, feeling happy and comforted by knowing Roddy’s parents held such love for her and her daughter.

”Well, honestly you know my parents adore you so you can’t be that surprised.”

“You’re right about that!” Lanie laughed, flashing her ex-boyfriend a bright smile. If Roddy would have proposed the two of them go out for something that didn’t involve Rylie at any other time, Elaine would’ve laughed in his face and asked if he was high on his pain meds. But considering how surprisingly fantastic this interaction had proven to be, the young woman was open and willing to give this little excursion a chance for the sake of their daughter. “And, I mean: sure. Let’s do it! Do you have any details you can give me, or is it going to be a surprise? I’d at least like to know how I’m supposed to dress up in case I need to run by Main Street to get myself something to wear.”

He wasn’t going to lie; Roddy was terrible at planning stuff like this. It wasn’t that he didn’t try or that what he did so was bad, it was just the limp and circumstances of it all. He wasn’t a song and dance man and preferred everything just that little more simple. Rather than some fancy restaurants, Roddy was happy to go to a diner; rather than a big party, he would prefer time in the house with some music and a few candles. Yet this wasn’t that type of occasion.

“I dunno. I guess we could grab some food and a few drinks at Hole in the Wall and go from there?”

The blonde snorted and shook her head, thoroughly amused at this turn of events. From the way Roddy was acting, she could tell that the idea for them to go out was definitely orchestrated by his parents (the youngest Callahan wasn’t exactly the best at planning things of this nature). Yet knowing the father of her child as well as she did, Lanie knew he wouldn’t have brought it up to her in the first place if he didn’t believe it was a wise move. It was the thought that counted, right? “You know what? Dinner and drinks at the Hole sounds like the perfect plan to me. God knows I’ve been craving their Shepherd's Pie for a while now,” the girl confessed, her mouth already watering at the thought of finally consuming the second best shepherds’ pie within a 50-mile radius (the first place in her list belonged to Edith Callahan).

”Great!” Elated by Lanie’s agreement, Roddy got to his feet and swung Rylie around like an airplane, something the little girl loved. Both Lanie and Rylie giggled. ”I was thinking as well, maybe we can head over to the park before we go out, let the little one enjoy the sunshine while it lasts.” The shaggy haired man watched as another young couple entered the café; they looked familiar but he couldn’t place them, at least not the woman. The man he did recognize as an old friend of his brother Francis; Russ Lord. Roddy nodded at the man before returning to Lanie. ”What am I thinking you probably want to get settled after your trip. We can take her tomorrow.”

"C'mon, Rod, you know the trip down here's not long. Today, tomorrow: I really don't have a preference! Though I can say I don't think tomorrow morning would be a good idea if we end up getting wasted during our 'date-but-not-really-a-date' thing…" she joked, inwardly cringing at the idea of going to the park early with an active, vocal baby while nursing a pounding headache and bouts of nausea.

He chuckled a bit as she referred to their outing as a date. "Well, if we’re hanging out of our asses then we’ll send her with my parents, it’ll be fine,” To be honest, Rod was quite weary of how much he should drink whilst they were out. He tossed a few back with Marco fairly regularly but he always knew a limit. With Lanie and the way she made him feel, it would be way too easy to pound a few more to take the edge off.

As Lanie laughed at the idea of her and Roddy with their arms around each other giggling as they stumbled their way back into the Callahan home, a familiar voice interrupted them, and the blonde’s body immediately tensed up. Erin Blake wasn’t someone Elaine Lancaster was particularly fond of. Aside from the fact that they had way too many similarities for her liking, there was no shaking off the vibes she felt. Lanie and her family had opened up their home to Decky and Danny, and the Lancasters had done everything in their power to provide both boys with a safe, comfortable, happy lifestyle. Metaphorically, they had contributed in extending their lives. But when it really came down to it, Erin had been the one to, quite literally, save Decky’s life… And that was something that, no matter how much she had done, Lanie would never be able to live up to. 

Fueled by the insane amount of pent-up rage and jealousy she felt towards the girl, Lanie cupped Roddy's face and planted a kiss on his cheek, making sure that it looked like it had been on his lips from Erin's point of view. It was equal parts petty and immature, but Edenridge always seemed to bring out the worst of Lanie. "I can’t wait for our date tonight, Rod!" she declared, just pointedly and loudly enough to (hopefully) dissuade any ideas this Erin girl might have. She'd already one-upped her once: no way was Lanie letting her get away with it again-- pregnancy photo shootings to gain her trust be damned. "You got this?" she asked him, motioning to the little girl still sitting content in her father's lap.

”I got this.”

"Alright!" Without warning, the young woman swooping down on her daughter and began peppering her little face with fluttering kisses. "Oh my goodness, you’re so freaking cute! I love you!” Lanie cooed to the giggling Rylie as she kissed her. "I'll see you soon, sweetie! Mommy's gonna get herself a nice little nap at Nana and Papa's house." That being said, Lanie stood up from her booth chair, shot Erin a parting ‘don’t even think about it’ glare before turning on her heel and gracefully exiting the café.

Meanwhile, Roddy got wind of a foul stench and immediately his face scrunched up. “Good Lord, what on earth is your mother feeding you, girl?!” He looked as even Beau and Colleen behind the counter caught wind of the smell. Rylie raised her hands up in the air triumphantly and giggled. She had truly won the day.

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Hidden 4 yrs ago → 2 yrs ago Post by AlteredTundra

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☼   LOCATION   ☼  Castillo-Brady Home
☼   FEATURING   ☼  Mom@Venus
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Tap tap tap

Marco’s left fingers hit his white gaming keyboard at such a speed that the tapping noise was almost like a mild click. His room had posters all over it so the sound didn’t echo as much as it would have had he not decorated it with his K/DA poster that spread from one end of his wall to the next and, if you were to ask him, that was his favorite thing about the amount of LoL merch he has, which includes his Draven shirt and hoodie.

Tap tap tap

“Cover me!” Marco said into his headset.

On his screen, Marco stared intently, his fingers tapping away while on his dominant hand, his hand right clicked and clicked and clicked some more.  He mained Master Yi. Might’ve been outdated, but in the four years Marco has been playing League of Legends and the almost two years he’s been taking it seriously, which in the process created a bit of an addiction, he knew his way around him. He could effectively kill other players while taking minimal damage.

And he did.

Alpha Strike and Highlander was always a guaranteed strategy to ensure victory.

And he got it. His team, that is. While he took out most of the enemy players with his perfect timing, his team took out the final turrets and the enemy nexus.

In a moment of triumphant victory, Marco did what he always did.

The Pancake Man: ggwp
DeezNuts: Report Pancake Man
DeezNuts: they cheated

“They’re always so negative.”

With a sigh, Marco closed out of the LoL window and stood him. His limbs ached and cracked, though his left leg had genuine, grunt-worthy pain. The same leg that was a month off of full recovery. The same leg he got shot in, though it didn’t ache in that way, every time he stood up, Marco felt a certain stiffness in his shin. Sometimes it was mild but other times he felt it in his entire leg.

“Wow, what time is it?” Marco looked to his clock on the wall and immediately grimaced when he realized he had been playing...all night. 

And then he shrugged.

It was totally worth it. He racked up at least ten wins in a row, which was a nice small improvement on last night’s win streak of seven. Surely, Marco was on his way to reaching Gold III. It would be a first since he started playing. The furthest he achieved had only been Silver I, so that was something he was looking forward to.

After a few moments of stretching out his limbs, the same stretches he learned from his time at PT, Marco took a spot on the edge of his bed. He yawned at the same time his stomach began to growl. 

And so he was faced with a tough choice: ignore his rumbling tummy and sleep away the morning and early afternoon or go out into the kitchen. Both presented their own risks.

For option A, of course, there was the disservice he was giving himself by not eating. Marco wasn’t his brother or sister or even parents when he was hungry. Sure, he was a bit grumpy and yes, even Marco Brady, patron saint of Northie Boston felt that, but he wasn’t an asshole or even an insufferable cunt.

...Not that he would ever say that to Marcy’s face. Marco just healed from an injury, so he’s not stupid enough to risk another and he knew his sister’s kick was almost as precise as his was, so if he said anything meaner than bitch to her face (agian he wouldn’t), he could say goodbye to any future kids he may or may not want.

But more importantly: he wasn’t a dick when he was hungry.

But that brought him to the other end. If he went out there and his mother found out he stayed up all night again... Well, he shivered at the thought of it.

Now, it wasn’t like his mother was going to yell at him or anything. It’s not like he has any classes in the morning or anything. It was more the fact that if he was up now, she’d made him do stuff as punishment.

“It’s early though. And it’s her day off. She wouldn’t be up, would she?”

Now whether it was a larger power forcing him to or just coincidence, Marco glanced over to his door and his heart sank to his bottomless stomach, rumbling as it was, as he saw her in the doorway. She didn’t seem angry but pleased was not a word he’d describe his mother’s face right now.

“Oh! Ma, what’s up? You’re up early!” He said, greeting her with a smile as he stood up somewhat sluggishly. Not exactly what you would call convincing.

“I could say the same thing to you, Güero.”

In regular circumstances, Marlena Castillo-Brady was nothing short of a sweet, kind and warm mother-- the kind that would smother her kids with copious amounts of affection at a moment’s notice. But right now, the lavender silk robe-clad Mexican woman stood in the middle of the boy’s doorway, arms crossed in front of her chest while blocking Marco’s exit. Although her oldest son was significantly taller than her, the level of commanding authority that oozed out of her made it clear who was the clear boss of the house.

“How was your sleep last night? Did you get a good rest?” she asked him with a fake smile, knowing fully well that Marco had spent yet another sleepless night behind his computer monitor playing his life away. The evidence was painted all over his dark circles, heavy eyelids and the way the blue of his irises stood out from his bloodshot eyes.

“Oh, yeah! Totally!” He laughed, which honestly was all the energy he could muster at the moment. Both tired and hungry, Marco’s ability to put on a convincing lie was almost as good as his brother’s attempt at making anything other than cereal. “How about you?” He asked, smiling.

"It was wonderful!" she answered, the smile still in place. "You know, when I woke up to get a glass of water at like 1 AM this morning and then later at 5:30 when I came down here to make your dad some coffee before he left for his shift, I thought I heard you shouting something about 'cover me' this and 'cover me' that. Were you just having a nightmare, sweetie?" she asked him innocently, faking concern. Marlena knew that wasn't the case, but it always amused and entertained her to see just how much Marco was willing to lie to her face. 

She heard that? Marco’s laugh dipped a few levels as it became spaced out and dominantly nervous. He didn’t realize just how loud he was, but then again, those noise-canceling headphones his Tio Mateo bought him for his 19th birthday must have worked better than he thought they would. “Oh. No, I didn’t have a nightmare. Or at least, I don’t remember.” When in doubt, Marco played the dumb, clueless son role almost as well as he did Master Yi. 

The dark-haired woman tilted her head and raised an inquisitive, perfectly arched eyebrow. "Oh? Then what was it, then?" she curiously asked her son, giving him one last chance to admit to what he'd done before she brought it up herself.

Marco sheepishly hummed, momentarily looking down at his aching feet. For a moment, he considered exactly what he should do. Coming clean might make the blow less embarrassing for him. But on the other hand, he really didn’t want to face the music right now. He didn’t want to hear her usual disappointed tone, especially when it came to this not-so-healthy habit of staying up all night.

As he brought his eyes back up, Marco said, “a very intense dream?”

"Hmmm… Okay…" Marlena looked at her first-born son with an almost thoughtful expression on her face. "So you mean to tell me that every intense dream that you have also happens to include the glare of your computer monitor shining through the crack under your door?"

“I-” Crap, I didn’t even think of that. “Would you believe me if I said I fell asleep at my desk?” Marco asked, giving her a half-assed grin.

The way Marco stumbled over his answer and the twinge of guilt visible in his smile  was all the confirmation his mother needed to know that she was right. She flashed him a knowing Chesire cat smile. "I'd believe it if I was born yesterday and didn't know about you playing all night and sleeping all day," she told him, dropping the fake niceness in an instant and settling into her 'I mean business' mode. "And since you clearly feel well enough to be behind a computer screen yelling at a game until your dad wakes up to go to work in the mornings, then I'm going to assume you're also feeling well enough to go outside, walk the dog and fetch the mail while you're at it."

And there it was. Hidden behind the soft hints of the Mexican accent his mother always had, her graceful posture and the eyes that always were full of so much love, trapping him like the idiot he was.

This was the reason why he wanted to avoid going out...anywhere. Why he wanted to sleep despite his stomach that roaring for food, screaming to be fed pancakes and bacon.

Marlie wouldn’t leave until she knew Marco heard what she said. And even though he grimaced through the tension in his legs, he walked over to her dresser and heard the sounds of his mother’s bare feet smack lightly against the smooth wooden floors and he cursed a few times in a subtle murmur. He was so close. So close to being able to sleep and now, because he got so caught up in his game, he had to do a few errands.

“Knowing Ma, it’s not going to stop at just the dog and mail.”


______________________________________	^{______________________________________________________________________________________} ^{☼ LOCATION ☼ Castillo-Brady Home} ^{☼ FEATURING ☼ Mom@Venus} ^{______________________________________________________________________________________}

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Hidden 4 yrs ago Post by LovelyComplex

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An Awkward-Fun-Silly Collab with @LovelyComplex & @metanoia

Everything in Marco hurt.

As the bright morning rays hit him on his face, practically blinding him, the brisk chill that came with it only served as a reminder that Mother Nature was often unforgiving to those who abuse it.

Or in his case, Mother Nature was living vicariously through his mother, Marlena Castillo-Brady.

He stayed up long past when his body was begging him to sleep. He remained awake long past when his brain advised him to sleep. Both were screaming louder than a bloodhound when it was upset, more violent than an abused pit, yet he couldn’t bring himself to quit the game. 

And then another. And another and another.

Before long, Marco was neck-deep into double digits when it came to how many games he played, how many matches on Summoner’s Rift and even ARAM just for the kicks. He loved that game so much that when it came time for him to finally sleep and when he decided he had, had enough, that’s when all hell broke loose. And that’s why he had just come back from taking Buster, the family Golden Retriever back in.

Woof woof

“At least someone’s having a good morning,” Marco commented, looking down at the slobbering hound as he let him back inside through the side gate door that led to the backyard.

As he closed it, he could hear the not-so-silent footsteps Buster made against the concrete, the relieved sounds of his barks filling the silence of that his immediate presence left behind. In some way, that provided Marco with the peace of mind as he dangled the mail keys around his left index finger, twirling successfully and slid it into their mailbox when he got there.

Looking inside, there was nothing but junk.

Well, Emil’s Muscle Fitness came in, but Marco wasn’t in the mood to fetch that for him.

As he turned around, the scent of something familiar in the air, though it was probably just the brisk summer morning air, Marco found himself gawking at a familiar sight.

Across the way, wearing a simple tank and shorts, albeit doing way more than it should have, there he was: jogging through the neighborhood like clockwork.

Danny Belmonte.

How long had it been since Marco saw him? Well, probably not long since he’s seen him jog regularly for the past few weeks. Of course, Marco never stopped him. The wound from when he left Marco in a state of deceptively-hidden heartbreak, though not as fresh as it was last year, was very present. But time healed that wound somewhat and he was in a place emotionally where he could see Danny without being painfully reminded of that day when his former lover rejected him.

And as he ran by, off in the direction of Godmother’s Sandwich Shop, which was a bit of ways away but it wasn’t that far of a walk, jog, wobble if you happened to be recovering from a savagely bad leg injury. But really! Who is actually keeping track?

With a curse escaping his lips like the breath that Danny stole as he strutted by, Marco grimaced into a pace that was at least three-times faster than his doctor recommended he walk. Coming off of his injury, he was advised to take it easy, to not put so much pressure on his leg.

Trust me, Doc. It’s not his leg that’s having the work out here.

______________________________________________________________________________________

Maybe a half mile later and practically all of the excess energy that Marco had leftover from the three or four cans of Dr Pepper now gone, a bell dinged over him as Marco rounded the corner.

Out of breath and leaning against the brick foundation of some building, Marco had to take a breather. Brisk walking wasn’t something he should be doing, but in the few weeks he’s actually been able to walk without a cane or crutch, it was freeing in a way. But that didn’t mean he was in any condition to keep up with a hell of a jogger that his ex-lover was.

Speaking of which, Marco took in a few deep breaths and scanned for him.

And low and behold, sitting about ten feet away, at a table that had an enticing chair opposite of him, Marco sighed as he took off into a walk again.

And as the chair screeched across the concrete pavement of the sidewalk, Marco plopped down onto it like his entire body was a sack of flour that was carelessly dropped on the floor.

“Whew.” He breathed out, lifting up the menu, scanning it as if it was why he took an uninvited spot across from Danny. “I’m-po-oped!” He commented, his words spacing out as his racing heart didn’t allow him to speak his thoughts completely without deep inhaling and exhaling.

Up until this point, Danilo Belmonte had no idea there was a puppy tailing him. Even at this point, he thought this was all coincidental. His sister’s shop was open to the public. It wasn’t like he could claim it as his own private sanctuary of sandwiches. Still, was he expecting this? Was he mentally prepared to hear his ex’s voice? Especially this close in proximity. As his mind stuttered, his attention going from his phone to the boy hiding behind the menu, Danny found himself at a loss for words. Instead of saying anything, he paused Hail & Fire’s new single on SoundCloud, placed his phone on the table, and reached forward. Letting his hand have a mind of its own, he steadily pressed the menu down so he could see his face. 

When his eyes confirmed the person in front of him, because even though Danny knew who it was, he still had a hard time believing it, the once great Casanova stood still and stared. He found himself unexpectedly in shock and there was a stillness within him. His inability to react made him feel all the more stupid. He should’ve known this day was coming. He did. He just didn’t think it would be today, or tomorrow, or this week even! 

His eyes locked with his ex’s over the breakfast table and for a moment, he could imagine some of the best memories he shared with him. Memories Danny did a fantastic job on burying up until today. The boy in front of him was a goofball, with a phenomenal smile. Marco put his whole heart in whatever he set his mind to. Most importantly though? He looked past Danny’s flaws, which unfortunately, were many.  

Fuck. 

As if God knew he needed a savior, Cat came out and hit the back of her brother’s head. Whack. “Marco! It’s so good to see you!”

“...” 

“I seem to be interrupting something...” Caterina was quick to deduce, all the while smirking with her natural sex appeal. 

“You’re not,” Danny was quick to interject. He wasn’t going to let his sister get carried away with her theories of how her baby brother spent his days and all the drama that ties into it. Leaning back, trying to hide how uncomfortable he felt, Danny cleared his throat and tried to speak up. Unfortunately, he was too slow and his loquacious, minx of a sister was back at it again.  

“It’s been so long since you’ve visited the main house. Mom asks about you all the time! Did you know that Danny—” 

“And that’s enough from you. I’ll just have the classic, porchetta di ariccia. As for him,” Danny glanced over and instinctively found himself going back to old habits, “Irish reuben? Or… something new?” Internally, he found himself screaming. He remembered his usual AND he was acting like junior year never ended. Instead of showing any signs of panic, he simply gleamed a forced smile at this evil woman that liked toying with him. 

“Is that what you want, hun? Seems like my BROTHER forgot his manners,” Cat sassily crossed her arms, not really wanting to hear Danny talk. She heard enough of his voice daily. It was clear that this Belmonte woman, who exuded dominance and temptation, had not seen Danny’s friend, at least not like this, for months. A year even. Probably even longer. She lost track of time, seeing how her home life wasn’t perfect and she was too busy using her business as an excuse to not deal with her problems. 

Relieved. Danny was relieved that his sister lost her train of thought and was back to focusing on her job instead of spreading LIES. Or whatever it is she wanted to tell his ex. Danny knew it was nothing but trouble. SHE was nothing but trouble. 

“Has he?” Marco laughed, taking a moment to platonically admire the beauty that was Cat. Hard to believe she was only his sister. It was truly a wonderful thing, life that could have people so far in age yet connect them on the same branch. Marco being the oldest between him and his two siblings, he didn’t necessarily have the pleasure of having such an older sibling. “But yes, your brother knows me like my Ma does.” Another laugh and he set down the menu. “Irish Rueben with extra sauerkraut.” He was already imagining consuming that sandwich the minute it was set down in front of him.

With a comforting family vibe and a charming yet firm way of speaking, Cat grabbed the menus from the two boys and politely asked, “Water for the both? I don’t want to take up too much of your time, Marco. I’m sure you and my brother have a lot to talk about—” 

“—we don’t,” Danny exasperatedly sighed. 

“Danilo Valerio Belmonte.” Curtly, the older woman hissed. What has gotten into him? Their mother taught him better than this and if she was here she would be utterly disappointed. There was no reason for her baby brother to be uneasy and on edge. It was just her and Marco. “And I thought I was on my period.”  

“Oh-my-god,” Okay, okay. Chill. He needed to chill. Marco seemed too distracted by his need for food to notice Danny’s plight. “Just get us water please and thank you.” At this point, the siblings had electricity releasing off of them, as they both coldly stared at one another. 

Clearly ignoring her brother’s pleas for her to disappear, bringing her attention to the sweet boy across from him, Cat went from a glare to a beaming smile as fast as she could get a guy off, “Just water?”   

Marco was doing his best to contain the excess bits of laughter that passed through his lips as Danny and Cat exchanged banter that only siblings could, but hunger and exhaustion made that a difficult task. Nevertheless, looking up at Cat, he nodded, seemingly agreeing with Danny’s water-only solution. “Yeah, I’m fine with just water,” he said, smiling at Cat.

With Marco’s response, Cat was finally satisfied and went on her way back into her place of business. Thank Christ. At least while Cat was present, Danny had forgotten about the heartbreak he caused to the boy in front of him. The further she walked away, the more he realized why he needed her there. He was now alone with his ex, who probably had plenty of questions for him. Pulling out his wireless earpieces, placing it on the table where his phone was, Danny could feel his nerves building from his chest to his throat. 

Get a grip, Belmonte. 

Absentmindedly cracking his knuckles, a little tick of his when he’s stressing, Danny did his best to break the ice, “So running, huh?” They both were involved in sports at one point in time. Marco getting back into running wouldn’t be off the table if they were still in school and he didn’t suffer from a severe injury. It still felt kind of soon for his ex to put that much pressure on his leg, but Danny had no right to jump to conclusions so instead he simply watched the boy in front of him with care and concern. 

”Oh, yeah…” 

There came something of a laugh that staggered between slow breaths. Even as Marco had been sitting there for a few moments, he still was trying to catch it and Danny’s half-question didn’t help. And he knew it wasn’t his intention. Danny never meant to make Marco feel awkward. He wasn’t that kind of person. But what could Marco actually say? I saw you across the street and decided to follow you would only go over so well. Especially with how things were left off between them, but Marco never was angry. Hurt, sure, but never angry.

Another series of slow inhales later, Marco found himself able to speak without being interrupted by his stupid lungs. “I thought I would test how much I could do.” Another laugh.

“And?” Danny firmly asked. Not one to hold back his worry, he pressed on, the nerves dying out at least for the time being, “Are you in pain? Do you need an ice pack? I hope you warmed up before you ran. Do you have a physical therapist?” Before any more questions could leave his mouth, his sister brought out the waters. 

“Your sandwiches will be out soon.” She read the table and saw how… serious her brother was staring at Marco, so instead of intervening, she let them continue their conversation. 

“Drink,” Danny eagerly demanded, even going out of his way to push the glass closer to his ex.  

Save for the echos of Marco sipping from the glass of water, silence was the only thing that remained after Danny’s rather...assertive suggestion came following Cat’s second departure. It was strange. With the questions about how he was feeling and then what he knew Danny caring about his hydration levels, Marco felt like, that is to say how Danny was acting reminded him back when they were together. The way he was interested, how he seemed, and just.., God just how it was like nothing had changed between them.

And Marco smiled at that thought.

He set down the half-full glass, which if that wasn’t symbolic to the way he was feeling right now, then nothing would. “But, uh, to answer your earlier questions, nothing hurts. I mean, nothing that I can’t handle.” Technically, he wasn’t lying. His leg hasn’t been aching since he sat down and his chest wasn’t feeling heavy since he was able to take a few dozen relaxing breaths. “You don’t need to worry about me, Danny!” He smiled cheerfully at his ex. “Really, I’m not in any pain!”

Leaning back in his seat, crossing his arms, Danny muttered, “Is that so…” Clearly not buying the high-spirited act. Was this meeting actually coincidental or was there some ulterior motives? Danny wasn’t clever enough to read between the lines but he had this deep-seated feeling. Something telling him that things weren’t right. 

Why would they be? He didn’t give this kid closure. He dumped his ass like he tossed that mystery meat away without much thought or care. Why was Marco sitting with him? Why was he giving him the time of day? Their relationship junior year was intense and passionate, but that doesn’t mean it was perfect. It was far from perfect. The culprit to all their problems? It was Danny. 

Danny couldn’t come out. Danny was the one who purposely toyed with girls in front of Marco, knowing that an hour later they’d both be in the janitor’s room getting down and dirty. Danny was the one who asked him out to prom only to take it back and break up with him the day before. To add salt to the wound, he had a random girl linked to his arm for an event that they should’ve celebrated together. After Decker went mad, and Danny came back from camp, instead of checking on his ex, he pretended he didn’t care. 

Now that he was thinking about it, this. Whatever this was. He just didn't get. Danny’s eyebrows furrowed in frustration, getting more and more annoyed by the minute, as his ex just sat there. Smiling. This stung more than he thought it would. He would prefer if Marco cut the bullshit and just interrogated him, or yelled at him. Anything that wasn’t this. They were dancing around the tension as if it didn’t exist and Danny had no idea what Marco expected from him. “Well, good to hear.”  

Before both boys knew it, their sandwiches were in front of them. Danny had been so stuck in his head that he didn’t see his sister come and go. Grabbing his food, he took a giant bite out of his sandwich, but ultimately kept quiet. Munching away and just looking at the neighborhood around them. 

“Oh boy!” Marco’s eyes lit up when he saw the dripping reuben in front of him. He practically had his tongue out, panting with excitement. Food was something that was close to Marco’s heart. One of his great passions and, well he had a soft spot for sandwiches. Almost anything could be made into a sandwich if you were creative enough. And as he took a bite, sounds of approval left his lips as he took that first bite. The tangy crunch of the rye bread, the sour, yet-kind-of-sweetness of the kraut, and the meatiness of the cornbeef — honestly, Marco was in heaven. 

With a mouth half-full, he said. “-is s-o food! -at rwafy oufid ferself!”

As much as Danny wanted to stay grumpy, he couldn’t. All the questions racing through his mind halted the moment Marco started devouring his sandwich. After deeply sighing, his lips rose into a smile. Some gazes were emotionally distant and cold but Danny’s eyes, the type of green that reminded anyone of new spring growth, bright and soft, were protective and kind. 

Once a minute or two of silence passed, as they both ate their sandwiches, Danny glanced over to his vibrating phone, seeing his cousin spamming him to bring her a sandwich. Rolling his eyes, he shoved the rest of his food in his mouth, chewed, and swallowed. Quick to run and quick to eat, he cleaned his hands and mouth with a tablecloth and replied, “I mean, she does make the best sandwiches, but you knew that already. Now, what’s your plan? For today, I mean.” 

After he finished, Marco wiped away the excess of mayo and deli mustard off of his lips and glanced down at his empty plate. Drippings of kraut and the cornbeef resting on a sloppy bed of crumbs was all that remained. ”Oh, probably not much,” Marco admitted, leaning back. He felt twice as fat as his slight gut implied. ”Spent most of the night gaming. I’m pretty much ready for a nap.” Marco laughed as the laugh was exaggerated into something resembling a relaxed moan as he stretched his arms over his head, cracking limbs releasing their gathered pressure. ”How about you? Anything special you’re gonna do today?”

“I’m going to walk you home,” Danilo said calmly and matter-of-factly. That would be something different and special. Not part of his usual routine. In addition to that, there were those letters that practically the whole town got. The most recent one of his was on his bed and there seemed to be something tonight that he felt like he needed to go to. Or he felt too guilty to avoid.  “Then I’m going to pick you up tonight around 7:15 PM, so make sure you’re up and ready.” 

Standing up, too impatient to wait for his sister, Danny looked at Marco and ordered,  “Don’t move.” Once he did so, he went inside the shop to pay the bill or maybe get two free meals for him and his ex. 

He tried to get a word in. Both to decline that obviously-gracious offer that Danny made about walking him home. He felt fine and could make it back, but there was a moment when their eyes met that Marco knew it would be a losing battle. His ex had a way about him that made it nearly impossible for him to fight him on it. He was stubborn, passionate, and just amazing in the way that he could be so stern like a brick wall, but as caring to Marco’s not-so-well-hidden fragility. That in itself made Marco accept the defeat in silence with a nod. 

And when his ex left and came back from paying, he couldn’t help but smile as he grunted standing up. Beside him, Marco was brought back to when they had been together. Back to a time that neither of them were reeling from the tension brought upon them nor the terror that Marco went through after getting shot.

It was just them and Marco weirdly, though probably so much, felt like he wasn’t even thinking about how tired he was. “Well, I’m ready when you are.”

Swiftly, Danny grabbed his cellphone and his headphones. Once his things were pocketed, he proceeded onward to the stop sign, right at the corner. Maybe tonight would be the night he could properly apologize and give the Puppy the explanation he deserves. Then again, who knows what was waiting for them at Edenridge High at 8PM. The truth? What the hell did that even mean? He’d need to ask Quinn what his theories were. Looking back at Marco, over his shoulder, the Italian lover boy boasted with finality, “I’m always ready.”


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Hidden 4 yrs ago → 4 yrs ago Post by BrutalBx

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BrutalBx

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BrutalBx

822 posts

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Seen 15 days ago

December 4th 2016;

“Erwin Schrödinger once wrote; No self is of itself alone. It has a long chain of intellectual ancestors. The "I" is chained to ancestry by many factors… This is not mere allegory, but an eternal memory”

We got a genealogy task at school today. They want us to retrace our family history as far back as we can. I imagine most people are going to just go on Ancestry Online or something like that. Then there’s the likes of Callahan or Cleary who basically own this town and can literally trace their family back to the people who got off the boat and settled here. Personally I have all kinds of documents and records, mostly because my old man kept files of that shit. For a catholic priest he was die hard into his Native American roots which is a strange dichotomy.

I haven’t read too much of his stuff yet, hell I’m just surprised that my Mom kept it all considering they were never really a couple. She just got stuck with his stuff when he shot himself. 

James Strongbow Winters; that was my fathers name. It’s a name that I do not share but I carry around like a noose around my neck. Every step I take in this world it tightens and steals my breath away. It is because of his inability to do what was necessary that my mother and I are treated as such. Had he just been able to muster up the strength to break down that door, lives would not have ended and mine wouldn’t be as torturous as it is. 

Bastard. That’s what he was. That’s what I am. He claimed direct descendance from the Massachusett tribe or that’s what his letters claim. If I am to believe the words of a pariah, then the very lands I walk today are mine by birthright. My people are all but extinct, replaced by the Irish and the Italian. I owe nothing but hell to my father yet I must carry his sins and the legacy of my ancestors into the future. 

This will be an interesting project.

It’s the Pinehurst v Edenridge grudge match tonight. There’s also a cheerleading competition between multiple schools, what was it? Sparkle? Shining something? Poppy wants to go for some reason. She probably wants to fuck Francis Callahan or David O’Hara like everybody else...God I really hope not. I’d rather fuck my self in the ass with a sideways chainsaw but I’d do anything for her; so if this is what she wants then this is what will happen. I’ll have to leave early though, Decky is trusting me on his corner. I might bring Jade along for some company. I darent bring Penelope. She doesn’t belong in this world. I don’t want to do this. I don’t want to be slinging dope. Drugs are a terrible thing but my Mom cannot afford her treatment and I can’t just let her struggle. ReyRey is giving me a chance, I can’t fuck it up.

I love my mom.

There’s the door bell, it’s probably Pops. I wonder which tale of Rocky and Reaper she’d like to hear tonight?

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Hidden 4 yrs ago → 2 yrs ago Post by AlteredTundra

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AlteredTundra

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AlteredTundra

10692 posts

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______________________________________________________________________________________
👠   LOCATION   👠  The South Side
👠   INTERACTING WITH   👠  Random Drug Dealer #1 (NPC)
______________________________________________________________________________________

______________________________________________________________________________________

The roaring sound of a red Harley Shorttail Cruiser parted with the I-195, majestically purring as it zipped past honking cars, to which a fiery blonde flipped them off. The honks became a distant noise among the passing cars, the rubber on the road that she heard as the wind howled around her, syncing perfectly with the loud thoughts Jade Taylor had pounding her head.

The entire between leaving the prison and driving along the I-195, Jade’s head had been pounding and pounding and pounding with thoughts about how close it was to that day. She couldn’t get Charlie out of her mind, but not the one who raised her since she was young enough to know that the ones who brought her into the world weren’t made to bring her up in it. No, Jade hadn’t been thinking about her tatted up, corny dad joke-teller, reason-she-loves-men-in-leather Uncle Charlie, but the one she abandoned. The one who found her in a time of darkness but couldn’t see he was drowning in his.

The Charlie who changed her life in childhood.

Yeah, that Charlie Decker.

She kept thinking about him even as she cut off several cars, took spots that sedans and SUVs thought were theirs. Even as she came into town, there was no stopping these regrets crawling up her spine, sending it crashing into the descendent of the iceberg that killed Leonardo DiCaprio and several others. The sinking ship that was her mental health was floating mere inches above the service.

“And it’s not even ten yet. Way too early for this shit.” Jade cursed herself into a right turn, leaving Northie territory. This wasn’t what she needed right now. 

Revving over the tracks, Jade was on familiar grounds. Today was her day off, so there was no need for her to slow down as she saw Edge of Sin to her left. She chuckled as she noticed it was already full. 

Yup, that seems right.

That thought carried her for a few more blocks.

Familiar territory brought a smile to Jade's lips. She remembered the days when she would just casually walk down these streets. It was strange because even though they were technically dangerous. Everywhere you looked, there were at least one of Rey Rey's corner boys, though back then it was Big Rey's corner boys. Regardless, if Jade literally anyone else, she would be targetted. The South Side wasn't a safe place for a young woman like Jade to be alone on, but everyone knew who she was. Even if they never met her, they knew. And that was because her Uncle Charlie had a great relationship with the Serpents. The Fallen Angels MC and the SSS were as close to being family as it got for gangs.

And that's why Jade felt safe lowering her guard when she came home.

But she wasn't going home.

Well, at least not yet.

Seven blocks from the rundown house that Jade has been calling home for the past seven years, Jade found herself slowing down on the intersection that was known as "Trinity Way". It was dubbed that for its unique triangle makeup design. Jade's Harley engine clicked off and as she got off and walked over to someone she didn't recognize, but they immediately knew her.

"You're Jade, right?" 

With a laugh, Jade confirmed as she nodded. She stood about three feet in front of the man. He wasn't old old even by her standards. He wasn't as old as her uncle, but older than Rey Rey. But there was something about the way he spoke that made the blonde not feel threatened. He had the sort of visage that told you everything you needed to know: inconsistent facial hair, bags under his eyes, and cuts around his face. He was a brawler and he didn't always win. His blue eyes were faded in one eye. The color was more of a muted grey-blue. JAde took that as a reason to feel sorry for him.

"The one and only," she said, half-smiling, reaching into her back pocket and pulled out three twenty-dollar bills held together with a rubber band. "You got what I need?" Jade asked.

She could feel the man staring at her. It wasn't something she was unfamiliar with. Being a stripper, that happened. Being a girl who grew up in the South Side, she was used to it. But what struck her as strange was that, even as he reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a small bag of white powder that was small enough to fit between his index and middle finger.

"Just what the doctor ordered!" The man laughed and coughed when he did so too hard.

And an exchange of money and bag later, Jade was off, speeding down the streets.

And then when Jade was home, the door smashing behind her, she parked herself on the couch. Her place was a mess. It wasn't like a pig pen where cockroaches would be invited to bunk with her, but Jade exactly the kind of person to do spring cleaning. She couldn't afford the supplies she needed. 

And of course, she says that as she spent sixty bucks on some coke.

Jade's priorities were clearly set straight.

As she sat on her couch, despite the age showing from how stiff the cushions were, Jade felt relaxed. Honestly, it was just great to be back home. It was a long morning for her. And that's not just counting her almost three-hour commute to the prison and back. That's not just counting the sexist correction officer who checked her out or how she had to fake a smile for her uncle. 

No, that wasn't why. 

"Those letters."

A thoughtful, drawn-out sigh left her lips and Jade dumped a quarter of the coke onto a glass plate in front of her, lining it up into a straight line. She rolled up a roller bill, packing it as tight as she could. With it in one hand and a rubber band in the other, she wrapped it around it making sure the bill was secure in its new form.

She stared down at the coke and as she did, she kept thinking about the first letter she received. And how she had teared up when she read them. Maybe it was to have a few moments, regardless what the reason was, to hear his voice in her head again. To know how his deep bravado sounded in the words she read. The context was hard for Jade to handle and even harder because...

"Because I let you down," she heard herself say, snorting the line in one go.

And the rush came.

And then it stayed, sending everything from Jade's golden roots to her manicured feet on fire with excitement and in a rush that was like feeling a dozen bolts of static course through her body. It was both a dangerous speed that she had longed for since she read the most recent letter and a yearning to feel something that wasn't the pain of guilt, that wasn't gnawing beast eating at her soul for...everything she didn't do or didn't say. 

For however long the euphoric high lasted, Jade was free from the smell of ash that remained of the bridges she burned.


______________________________________	^{______________________________________________________________________________________} ^{👠 LOCATION 👠 The South Side} ^{👠 INTERACTING WITH 👠 Random Drug Dealer #1 (NPC)} ^{______________________________________________________________________________________}

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Hidden 4 yrs ago → 4 yrs ago Post by Venus

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Venus So long, and goodnight. ♡

Member Seen 4 days ago

Venus

So long, and goodnight. ♡

2671 posts

in 3586 days

Seen 4 days ago

Bio

A @Prosaic & @Venus Collaboration
Featuring Quinn Lloyd & Tiffannie Taccone
Location: Edenridge Motel
Interacting With: Each Other
Mentions: Danny Belmonte @LovelyComplex

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The funny thing about flying was how indistinguishable it felt from falling.

Quinn Lloyd had never had much impulse control, he wasn't wired right and he knew that. He had figured this out in the freshman year of highschool when he'd started pounding down beers nightly and waking up with little memory of it. It hadn't meant much to him at the time but as the years went by and the headaches got less frequent, he started to wonder if he had a problem. Of course, while lacking the impulse control to stop, he wasn't even sure he wanted to stop. 

These days his life could be pretty hectic, between juggling jobs and trying to make it to those jobs, he scarcely had time to tackle scary thoughts like "what would I be doing if I wasn't drinking?". Although in the past, those thoughts had been quickly put to rest by his assurance that he'd never stop drinking and thus the vicious cycle continued. It continued and it continued until he got so dizzy trying to imagine tackling it that he usually gave up on the thought process altogether. ADHD could be a bit of a bitch when it came to that sort of thing.

He had spent that night crashed out in a hotel room, face buried in his pillow and his arm haphazardly slung over the frame of the blond beside him. It was a familiar sensation, to be crashed out somewhere with someone, less familiar was the anxiety settling over him when his eyes opened. 

For a moment, all he saw was the darkness of the fabric against his face before he pushed himself up on his arm and-- yep, still feels like I did something horrible.

It was not the first time Quinn and Tiffanie had ever tangled, although it had never been an overnight affair. Except for last night. He had maybe been a bit too drunk or maybe a bit too bold and they had wound up at a motel room where things had… escalated. He never felt entirely okay with himself after excursions with Danny’s cousin, mostly because… she was Danny’s cousin and he considered Danny to be one, if not the only person, in this world who he didn’t hold any sort of grief with.

Fuck.

He scrubbed his hands over his face, trying to get his hair out of his eyes.

As if sensing that her companion had woken up, the blonde next to him began the slow process of waking up herself. 

“Good morning, Quinnie!” Tiffannie cooed in a sleepy, singsong voice, scooting closer to the curly-haired man to give him a fleeting kiss on the lips before nuzzling her face into his chest. “Did you have a good sleep? I know I had a good sleep. You wiped me out last night!”

Quinn had never been a morning person, he was far more prone to drinking into the early hours of the morning and then sleeping until the late afternoon sun forced him out from beneath the blankets. To say that her chipper greeting had caught him off guard would be an understatement.

I am possibly the worst best friend around. He thought grimly. 

”It’s way too fucking early to be that full of life.” He responded, blinking owishly against the light in his eyes. It was an answer enough to the question, at any rate, he never slept well. “I don’t suppose you know where my cigarettes ended up.”

Routine called, after all.

The girl beside him pulled away just enough to shoot him a dirty look. “Probably in the same place that your good humor ended up,” Tiffanie snapped, her luscious lips puckered up in a bubblegum pink pout as she turned over to give him her back. She would’ve thought that Quinn would be in a better mood considering the amazing time they had spent together. Waking up to him being nothing short of rude and ungrateful was not something she had been expecting.

“I-” He stumbled over his words for a moment, not that it was terribly uncommon for girls to get fed up with him when they spent too much time with him. “It’s too early for that too.” He responded gracelessly, aware of how utterly grouchy he came off. 

Tiffanie looked over her shoulder, pouted and glared at Quinn again and turned back around.

After a moment of consideration, he tried again, maybe a bit gentler. “I’m sorry, I’m fucking exhausted.”

Is that nice? I can’t tell.

He wasn’t really cut out for the touchy-feely after-sex shit. He didn’t exactly know how to break that to her nicely. “I’m glad you slept alright.”

Now, that’s nice, right? Right?

He couldn’t exactly see himself getting up any time soon, so he reached over the edge of the bed and felt around for any sign of his jeans and his missing cigarettes.

Although she wasn’t ready to forgive his initial unlikable remarks so quickly, the fact that he caught onto her displeasure and attempted to make amends did earn him back some of the points he’d lost. Letting out a dramatic sigh, Tiffannie rolled around in bed to face Quinn again. “Is there anything I can do to make you feel better?” she asked, looking up at him with big, blue doe eyes.

He eventually found his discarded jeans over the edge of the bed and very shortly after he also found the package of cigarettes in his pocket. Bingo. Sometimes a crippling addiction wasn’t so bad when it meant that he almost never went anywhere without his cigarettes. He gave the pack a shake to check the damage, noting that there were probably three or less in there. He didn’t exactly look forward to running to the corner store on the way… well, not home, it was unlikely he’d go home after this. 

Tiffannie had turned back to him but not before sighing loudly. This was also not all that unfamiliar when it came to people spending excess time with him. He swiftly opened the pack of cigarettes and fished one out before letting it drop on the bedside table. 

She was speaking to him again, not that the silent treatment had lasted very long. “I-” He started to speak and stopped himself for risk of coming off rude again, she was being nice, he didn’t always have to be such a dick in the morning. He was just naturally that insufferable. “I’m good, Tiff.” That was said, maybe less agitatedly. He was a lot easier to deal with when he had a cigarette in him. “I’m not used to uh- us spending the night together. Haven’t quite picked up on your morning habits yet.”

This was drawn out with an amused undertone, as he fumbled with his lighter, stuffing the cigarette in his mouth and taking a long drag. “And you haven’t had the misfortune of dealing with mine. Jesus Christ, what better way to convince a girl to come back then by snapping at her first thing in the morning?”

The playful self-deprecation was familiar, at least.

That last sentence immediately perked up the slender blonde. “So you’re saying you want to spend the night with me again?” Tifannie asked, an excited little smile playing around the corners of her full lips as she shifted around to rest her head on Quinn’s stomach. Tiff was well aware of the feelings of guilt that often plagued her lover after one of their entanglements, so to read between the lines and assume Quinn wanted to do this all over again certainly made her happy. She thoroughly enjoyed being his one weakness over and over again.

“God-” This was not great, he knew he was messing up. It would be one thing if he could just be upfront about all this with Danny, but he’d gone and went the shadiest roundabout route he could with it. He took a long drag on his cigarette, exhaled the smoke and sighed through it. The glance he passed Tiffannie was lingering, he knew exactly what he’d meant and so did she. 

Fuck, I really am transparent.

“We’ll see what happens.” It was a yes. A vague one. Still viable. “We really shouldn’t, but impulse control hasn’t gotten me very far.”

Tiffannie shot him a cocky smile. “This is the part where I would say I’m sorry, but I’m really not,” the young woman confessed, propping herself up just enough for her face to be inches away from Quinn’s. “I like playing with you too much…” she murmured seductively, letting her words hang in the air for a few seconds before pressing her lips to his. 

Tiffannie knew that going around her cousin’s back and sleeping with his best friend at any chance she could get was scummy at best-- especially considering him and his family were currently keeping her safe from some psycho housewife all the way back in LA. But the little peach wasn’t known for being the most upstanding young lady, or for having a lick of shame within her. When it came to Tiff’s approach to life, the girl was like Ariana Grande’s ‘7 Rings’ song: I see it, I like it, I want it, I got it.

When she kissed him, he pressed his free hand to her cheek and kissed her back. The taste of his cigarette was still heady on his breath and it was still burning away in his other hand, clutched between his fingers. He had never really had the required impulse control not to make decisions like this, part of that was the ADHD, the other part was probably just his childish and reckless desire for attention. 

Attention and drama kept life from becoming tedious, didn’t it?

He ran his fingers through her hair, leaning into her a moment before breaking the kiss and giving her one of those roguish half-smiles. ”You certainly like proving that, don’t you?”

Baby Peach nodded eagerly. “Always,” she drawled, leaning forward for another long, deep kiss. 

Eventually, Tiffannie pulled away from the kiss, and allowed herself to sit still in content silence as Quinn smoked his cigarette and played with her hair. As much as she enjoyed having the freedom to pick and choose who she was intimate with and not being tied down to anyone, she had to admit that this actually felt quite nice. The steady rising and falling of the young man’s chest, the feeling of his fingers running through her hair-- even the lingering smell of the cigarette smoke (an odor that normally had her wrinkling her nose in disgust) added to the comfort of it all.

Now, Tiff wasn’t a stranger to post-sex cuddles; though most times things ended with a simple goodbye, or a farewell brunch date before parting ways if she was lucky. But there was something different about what was currently happening between her and Quinn. Maybe it was the familiarity of it all, or the fact that he was the one guy she’d been hooking up with any chance they had for a few years now. Whatever it was, laying down with Quinn like this made her feel so happy and safe... And that was… Concerning.

Uh oh…

Before her brain even had the opportunity to start venturing down those unfamiliar roads, Tiffannie decided to put a halt to it. “I guess I should get going, then…” she said with a sad sigh, slowly rising from the bed and purposely making a spectacle of stretching her body in front of Quinn. There was one last thing she wanted before they parted ways until the next time, and it wouldn’t take a genius to figure out what it was.

He was admittedly much calmer by the time the girl rose to her feet and sighed in that all too world-weary sort of way. Tired or not, Quinn was usually better after a smoke-- more affable, at least. He hadn’t minded just sharing her company for a while, which was… a problem in the making. He didn’t usually overstay his welcome with people he had sex with. 

One and done, as they say.

He paused to watch her, about to speak but not quite sure what to say. The logical thing would be to send her on her merry way and try to sort through his own lingering guilt before checking out of the hotel. Quinn was not terribly logical. “Wouldn’t hurt to catch a shower before you headed out,” he said suggestively, the hint of a smile on his mouth.

Tiffannie flashed the lanky man a mischievous smile. Jackpot. “I guess I could do that… But it gets so lonely in the shower when I’m by myself…” she sighed dramatically, giving Quinn that little pout and puppy dog eyes she knew he couldn’t resist.

A laugh escaped him despite himself and he pushed himself to his feet. It was a terrible idea on top of terrible ideas, if he was already going to hell then he may as well have fun doing it. ”I’d hate for you to feel lonely,” he responded, voice light with amusement. ”Come on.”

As he took the giggling blonde’s hand and dragged her into the shower with him, he thought about how he really despised himself sometimes.

But it wasn’t like he could despise himself more.

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Hidden 4 yrs ago → 4 yrs ago Post by Venus

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Venus So long, and goodnight. ♡

Member Seen 4 days ago

Venus

So long, and goodnight. ♡

2671 posts

in 3586 days

Seen 4 days ago

Bio

A @HaleyTheRandom & @Venus Collaboration
Featuring Caitlin Cleary & Bradley King

Location: King’s Mechanics ---> The King Living Room
Interacting With: Each Other, John King (NPC)

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It really feels great to be home.

When she was a child and a teenager, Caitlin Cleary had wished for nothing more than an opportunity to have a fresh start somewhere else. Growing up in a small town where everyone knew everyone, it was easy to feel suffocated by the assumptions and expectations people had of you. As thankful as she was to be a part of one of the more privileged families of Edenridge, there was always a part of Cece that resented the unwanted attention she got because of who her relatives were. She always wanted to disappear, fade off into the background, go through life without having to worry about her every move being watched and scrutinized. But as they say: absence makes the heart grow fonder. And if her time away from Edenridge had taught her anything, it was to cherish the invaluable gift that was home, friends and family.

Of course, there was another reason why Caitlin had been so excited about returning home... And that was the person to whose driveway she was pulling up into at this very second.

As soon as she had parked and shut off her Beetle’s engine, Cece grabbed her homecoming gift from the passenger seat and exited the car. The sound of her sneakers against the gravel as she walked to the entrance of the shop were drowned out by the loud sounds of metal on metal that greeted her. A few short steps later and Cece was inside the shop, her eyes landing on two out of the three generations of King men doing what they did best: fixing cars.

"Good morning, Mr. Richard!" Caitlin waved at the dark-haired man behind the register, the two of them exchanging smiles before Caitlin turned her attention to the boss man himself. "Hi, Mr. John!" she said cheerfully, pulling the older King into a quick hug with him as soon as he was within reach. “How are things going? I brought you all some cupcakes--” she told him sweetly, motioning to the small basket she was holding in her left hand. “I figured it was a nice little way for me to make it up to you guys after being away for some time.”

With a slight smile and a grumble under his breath, John King returned Caitlin’s hug warmly. ”Now you know you ain’t gotta call me Mister,” he said, his expression going from stern to excited at the mention of cupcakes. “I’ll go grab the milk then. You here to see Bradley, I reckon?” 

The redhead’s face lit up at the mention of her bestest, closest friend. “If he’s around!” she answered, excitedly making her way around the garage and to the inside of the King household she knew so well. While awaiting Bradley’s entrance, Caitlin made a beeline straight to the mirror that hung in the hallway and checked her reflection. Although she wasn’t feeling her best, that didn’t mean she wanted Brad to see her looking anything less than presentable.

With the cupcakes in hand, John simply nodded his head and went deeper into the garage to find his son.

“Bradley!”

Still working on the Henderson’s mini van, Bradley nearly hit his head on the bumper when he jumped at the sound of his name. “Jesus Christ, Pop. You ain’t gotta scare somebody like that.” Coming out from underneath the van, Bradley grabbed a nearby grease rag and began to wipe off his hands. 

Completely unfazed by Bradley’s reaction, John already had one of Caitlin’s famous cupcakes halfway eaten. The truth was that the older man didn’t care to respond, but he also was too caught up in the deliciousness to give a damn. ”Someone’s lookin’ for you out front. Tried to handle it, but they specifically requested you.” 

With a deep sigh and an aggravated expression, Bradley got up off of the ground and did his best to continue trying to wipe his hands and arms clean. Frustrated that he wasn’t done with this morning's task of fixing the van, Bradley was even more frustrated when he didn’t see anyone in the lobby waiting for him other than Richard. 

Having followed his son, John quickly put two and two together. “Grab a cupcake, Brad.” 

“Where’s this mystery person at, Pop? I ain’t got time --” As Bradley turned back to look at his father, he finally noticed the container of cupcakes in his hands. That perfectly pink frosting could have only been made by one person. 

“She’s inside,” John said, chuckling. 

Rushing through the lobby and into the back door, Bradley’s mood had done a total one eighty. Calling out to Caitlin, Bradley did his best to straighten his shirt and make himself presentable. "Red?! You home?” 

“No! This is Scarlet, her evil twin sister. Caitlin’s not home right now, but she asked me to drop you a visit,” she joked with the brightest of smiles. Unable to hold back any longer, Caitlin raced across the room with her arms outstretched and ran straight into Bradley’s arms, wrapping the taller boy up in a tight hug. 

Wrapping his arms around her smaller frame, Bradley instantly felt himself relax at the familiarity of Caitlins touch. Giving her a quick kiss on the top of her head, Bradley didn’t wait too long to start with the questions. 

”So how is it being back in town? How long are you here for this time?”

“Eh, it’s fine… I just wish I was coming back under better circumstances…” she confessed sadly, her face still nuzzled against his shoulder. Cece took a second to envelop herself in the comfort of the young man’s presence and his spicy cologne before pulling away from the hug, still keeping her arms around Bradley’s taller, chiseled frame. “Mom’s health isn’t doing too good right now, so I decided to put the studies on hold and focus on taking care of her until she gets better-- however long that might take.”

Looking down at her, Bradley did his best to hide his concern, but could still feel the hints of a frown forming upon his face. “Is she gonna be okay? Are you going to be okay?”

“I’m not really worried about myself-- I’d feel pretty darn selfish if I was,” she told him, letting go of Brad just long enough to take a seat on the nearby couch. “She’s getting surgery next Tuesday--, so Dad and I will be driving her down to the city that day and we’ll take turns spending the days with her until she’s released,” Cece explained, trying but failing to sound like she was taking things in stride. “Like I said, I’m not really worried about myself. I’m mostly worried about her and the family, you know? I mean, Dad might be a grown man, but he’s useless when he’s without Mom most of the time, and he’s got the pub to run on his shoulders. Sure, Rhett helps a lot too, but he’s nowhere near ready to take on the responsibility of the pub on his own full-time yet. Brogan I know is more than happy to help, but she’s also got her plate full with classes, coaching and going to softball games all around the country. And Rowan’s only a kid. What fourteen year-old kid wants to watch their mother go through that sort of painful process? I know I don’t want to, so I can’t even imagine how she’s feeling right now...” she trailed off, tears starting to pool up in her emerald green eyes.

While Cece began to talk, Bradley made his way into the kitchen to wash his hands. Taking extra care to get the dirt and grime out from under his nails, the young man dried his hands off on a nearby kitchen towel before grabbing a drink from the fridge. He knew by the way she was rambling on that she was stressed. Coming back into the living room to take a seat beside her on the couch, Bradley took a drink of his Dr. Pepper as Caitlin trailed off. 

Looking over at her, Bradley could see the pain in her eyes. The frustration that she had at the world. The concern for her family. His expression quickly went from neutral to caring. Turning to the side so that he could look at her easier, Bradley took her small hands in his before speaking. 

“Hey, look at me.” Taking his right hand, Bradley gently grabbed her chin on either side and turned her face towards his. “Everything’s going to be okay. I know things are rough right now, but there’s always a light at the end of the tunnel.” 

Truth to be told, Bradley's outlook on things wasn’t the brightest - but he could fake it when he wanted to. Especially for a friend. 

“You’ve got me to lean on. I’m here for the rest of the family too - you know that. And if you want to, I can give you rides to the city. Maybe go on one of our old adventures and take your mind off of things, hm?” 

"Like the time we decided to find that waterfall in the middle of nowhere and ended up getting lost for hours without any phone signal?" she teased with a smile in an attempt to lighten up the mood, her eyes lighting up at the funny memory. After dealing with the influx of distressing updates about her mother's health by herself in her dorm room for so long, Cece had almost forgotten how easy it was to feel comforted and reassured whenever she was in Bradley's presence. It had been that way ever since their first encounter back at the graveyard years ago, and it was still that way today. He provided a feeling of safety and protection that was different from the one her father, brother, Danny and Quinn offered-- one that she had experienced only once before. 

Chuckling, Bradley leaned back on the couch. "Exactly. Maybe we could take a trip to the beach or something this time. Who knows?" 

Caitlin's smile widened, and she nodded vigorously. "I'd like that very much," she said softly, placing a gentle kiss on the hand Bradley had so tenderly holding her face.

As Bradley's smile faded, John reentered the house - box of cupcakes still in hand. 

“You're gonna get diabetes, ya know?" Bradley scolded his father, earning himself a chuckle from Caitlin.

"Worth it."

The older man took a seat in his armchair, reclining it back as he put the box of cupcakes on top of his lap. Bradley spotted something else in John's hands, his blood running cold. John looked up from the stack of envelopes and junk mail, his eyes sad as he looked at his son. 

"I’m sorry, son. But there's another one."

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Hidden 4 yrs ago Post by Sugar and Spite

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Sugar and Spite ☣ Hurricane Eyes ☣

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Getting out of her vehicle, Serena picked up her newly acquired bottle of Grey Goose from the passenger seat and tucked it into her purse. Did she care that the bottle of vodka was sticking halfway out of her purse? Fuck no. 

Walking into the diner, Serena watched the scene in front of her with a bored expression as she waited on her cousin's guaranteed-to-be-over-excited greeting. Heels clicking as she walked, Serena moved to stand beside Erin and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. Turning to watch as Lanie walked away, the young woman sighed. 

”Tragic,” she said, rolling her eyes and turning back to face her cousin. Her voice had been just loud enough to make sure that Lanie could hear her as she was walking out the door. ”Imagine being so insecure over - ” her eyes glanced over to Roddy ”that.” 

Embracing her other half with an overly bright smile on her face, Erin scoffed and rolled her eyes in return.

”As if he’s the one of them I’d choose to bang,” she sighed, already beginning to walk over to her and Serena’s favorite booth in the back right corner. 

Serena laughed one silent laugh. ”You have always had a thing for milfs.” 

Sitting down, the girls took their respective sides of the booth; Erin on the right, Serena on the left. Putting her purse into the seat next to her, Serena passed a menu to Erin before picking up one for herself. Nothing had changed. 

”So!” Erin said cheerfully. ”What’s been up in your mysterious world.” 

”Nothing much,” Serena responded, still looking at her menu. ”Finding love in all of the wrong places, making bad decisions, being hot - you know, my usual.” 

At that time, the waitress walked over to greet herself. She looked around high school age, with dark hair and eyes. She seemed sweet enough. 

”I’ll have a short stack of strawberry pancakes, a side of sausage, and a cup of apple juice, please,” Erin told the waiter, somehow still smiling. 

”A short stack of blueberry pancakes for me,” Serena followed up. ”Side of bacon. Cup of orange juice, and an extra cup on the side.” 

”Thanks!” 

With the waiter gone, Erin was planning on bugging her cousin about her latest adventures, but wound up checking her phone for the new message that had just came through seconds before. It was from her mother, Jasper. 

Her eyes scanning the paragraph, Erin’s facial expression went from bubbly and excited to worried and confused. 

Screwing the top back on her vodka, Serena looked up at the blonde. ”What is it, love?” 

”Serena…. I--” 

Just then the waitress walked back over, obviously nervous. 

“Excuse me, ma’am, but I just watched you make yourself an alc---”

Holding up a single finger, Serena silenced the younger girl and handed her a hundred dollar bill from her pocket. 

”Listen. We both know you don’t get paid enough to care about or deal with this shit, right, sugar?” Letting her flirtatious nature peak through ever so slightly, Serena smirked. ”Now. Do me a favor and go tell the manager that if they have any issues, they should come talk to me face to face and stop using you as the messenger, okay?” 

Both confused and shocked, the waiter simply nodded her head and walked back to the kitchen. 

”Now. What were you saying?” 

”We need to talk.” 

”About?” she retorted. 

”Uncle Ty and Auntie Junie and mom and dad and basically the whole family have been keeping something from you because we’ve been worried and --” 

Clearly beginning to become angry, Serena glared at Erin. ”Wha --?!” 

”Nope! My turn! Hush!” 

Taking a drink of her makeshift screwdriver, Serena still continued to glare at her cousin. Erin was the only one that Serena would listen to besides her mother, Junie, and she knew it. 

”We’ve been getting… letters. All of us. You… me… the boys… Mom’s been talking to some of the other parents and so have some of the other kids we went to school with. I… I don’t think it’s an accident. And the letters…. They…. Rena…. They have to do with the shooting - with Charlie.” 

Her blood turning ice cold, Serena kept her mouth shut as a nervous Erin tried to find the right words to use. 

”According to mom, the letters say to meet at the old high school at eight.” 

”Tonight?”

Erin nodded her head. 

Pulling her bottle of vodka from her purse, Serena placed it on the table between them. ”Looks like we’re both going to need this. Are you… do you want to go tonight?” 

”Neal and Damon are. They want to get to the bottom of it.” 

”Fuck!” Rolling her eyes once more, Serena took a gulp from the bottle. 

”You… keep drinking that. I think I might need to drive.” 

”Good idea.” Exchanging the liquor for pancakes, Serena ripped a piece of one off before shoving it into her mouth. After a few moments of awkward silence, she asked a question she already knew the answer too. ”So we’re going?” 

”Yep.” 

”Fuck.” 

”Yep again.” 

Deciding that she needed to do some digging, Serena finally messaged Mei back. 

’You know anything about these letters?

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Hidden 4 yrs ago Post by Helo

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Helo Wonderlust King

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Vin balanced himself on his skateboard deck as it rolled through town. The rhythmic noise helped clear out his thoughts until he was back home. Once he was back at his apartment, he stopped to grab the mail on his way in. He rifled through it, picking out those addressed to him and leaving the letters addressed to his roommates on a counter. Only one letter stood out to him, the one that looked exactly like all the others he’d been getting, the ones with things written by Charlie Decker. He’d read part of one, months ago, but since then he’d only opened them to check and see what they were and tossed the journal entries without reading them. It was just one of those things that were easier to not think about, or at least as little as he could help it. He opened the letter, glanced at it, and seeing that it was more of the same went to throw it away when he noticed Allison’s name on the paper. 

He didn’t want to read it. Nope. But instead of tossing it in the trash, he set it down and paced around the apartment. Until he would inevitably end up right back at the table it was on, and he’d glance at it, then continue to pace around the small room. If anyone else had been home, he knew they’d think he looked like a crazy person. He couldn’t just not read it now, it was all he was going to think about until he read it. When he picked the letter back up again, his eyes didn’t even want to focus on it. He had to force them, as he slowly scanned over the text, and it took a few minutes for the words to settle in his brain. 

Was Charlie Decker at his sister’s funeral? Just sitting there taking notes and watching the pain he’d caused? That was too creepy to think about, not that he could really think right now. The sound of his own heartbeat pounded in his ears. Every time he reread the letter it felt like a heavy weight was being placed on his chest but kept doing so until it felt like he couldn’t breathe. And he kept rereading, far more times than he really should have. He stared at the letter until his eyes burned and he felt like he couldn’t breathe. 

Vin didn’t cry; not when they carried Allison’s body out of the house, not at the funeral, and not really anytime that he could remember since he was a little kid. Even his dad had cried at the funeral, and people said that it would hit him eventually and that it wasn’t something to worry about. And the grief did hit him. At random times, it snuck up on him when he wasn’t expecting it but he never did shed any tears. He kept his grief, cemented it into his core just beneath the surface so he wouldn’t lose it. That was all he had left, and sometimes it made it hard to feel anything else. 

He hadn’t even been angry at Charlie after it happened; he knew it wasn’t all Charlie’s fault, he’d only been a part of it. So many other factors had been a part of it, and Vin was one of them too. But he was angry now, angry that someone would send him this, send everyone in town these letters to keep reminding them of all the pain Charlie had caused. Shit, he really hoped neither of his parents were getting these letters, he’d never thought to ask before. 

Eventually, he stopped reading the letter, he practically had it memorized anyway, and did the reasonable thing, and took it over to the kitchen sink. He fished around in his pockets until he found a lighter and burned the letter. 

Then Vin found himself on the couch taking bong rips until he felt like the anti-drug commercial where the girl just melts into the couch and the small apartment was basically one big hot box. There was a cartoon on the television, but eventually, even that got too complex to follow, so he just stared at the screen and zoned out. He didn’t want to think about Charlie, or grief, or the shooting, or Allison right now. He didn’t want to think about how he said nothing about how she partied too hard because he was just happy to be at his first high school party that night. He just wanted to stare, half confused at a cartoon dog and maybe laugh a little. Then, if he woke up from a weed coma in time, he’d think about if he wanted to show up at the high school tonight. 

Logan took a handful of the aspirin and swallowed them down with water. He then left the convenience store swishing the mouthwash about until he felt that his mouth was properly minty fresh before spitting it all out onto the sidewalk. Eventually, he made it back to his car, a lifted jeep with big offroading tires, he never actually went off-roading but it looked cool. There was a time when things like that made him happy, but now the car was really just more annoying to drive. His father hated the jeep, called it an eyesore and a waste of money, so selling it was out of the question. Logan wouldn’t give his old man the satisfaction of being right about the car even though it made his knee hurt every time he jumped out of it. 

He drove home, beer in the seat next to him, a fresh pack of cigarettes in his pocket, and nothing stronger to take the edge off the unsettling feeling Edenridge gave him. The whole town just bought a paranoid feeling that being here meant something bad was bound to happen. Was it even, technically, paranoia if it was based on experience? Logan was inclined to believe it wasn’t. Everything he drove past looked the same as it always had, so it stood to reason that the luck of this town was probably the same too. 

The house he’d grown up in looked more or less the same, and he was half surprised his key still worked. The response he’d gotten when he’d texted his father to let him know he’d be home for the summer was ‘good, clean your room.’ It wouldn’t have been out of character for him to change the locks just for the hell of it. Inside the house looked like a picture from a magazine; immaculately clean, organized, and cold. No one was home, which meant his timing was at least spot on and he wasn’t going to be forced to make conversation. Logan didn’t bother roaming through the rest of the house, he just took his bags and beer straight up to this room and tossed them on the bed. 

Logan’s room was left in the state of complete disarray he’d left it in. Clothes covering the floor, drawers pulled entirely out of the dresser and left sitting on top of it, and never finished homework assignments from high school scattered about. A box of hockey trophies, some broken, were collected in a box half shoved into a closet along with his skates and equipment which were half falling out of the closet. There were various posters hung intentionally croaked and even upside down on the walls, or more accurately rehung that way about a year ago. His bed was unmade, hell some of the piles of clothes were year-old laundry and the only part of the room that was organized was a single spot on a desk where his father stacked mail that had come for him while he was at college. It almost made him chuckle to think about his father having to walk into the absolute tornado of chaos every so often to put his mail here, and then carry about his day knowing that one room in the house was an absolute disaster. 

Logan had, very purposefully, left his room in such a state before he’d left last year. Knowing that it would irritate his father but that the man would never clean up after another adult. So, Logan had ignored several angry voicemails about it and had an excellent excuse for why he was never available to come home during the school year to clean it. There was really no escaping having to clean the room now, but this petty act of revenge, and knowing that it had gone on for a full year, brought him some joy. He sat down in the desk chair, placed his feet on the desk, and casually flipped through the mail, and tossed most of it into the overflowing trash can. Then all that was left was a small stack of letters with no return address on them. He wasn’t sure what he was excepting those letters to be, but copies of Charlie fucking Decker’s journal entries was about the last thing he would’ve guessed.

“Well, it’s way too fucking early for this shit.” He muttered and got up and grabbed one of the beers from the recently purchased sixpack. If he was going to spend the afternoon reading the musings of a psychopath it only seemed right that he should do so with a drink. 

They all read more or less the same to him, started with some pretentious quote, and then went on and on with Decker’s whining. Even though just thinking about Decker made his stomach turn in a way a hangover never could, he read all those letters. He even remembered the time he’d grabbed one of the guy’s journals and read some of it aloud in the middle of study hall. Sure he’d pushed Decker but he’d had no idea what an absolute time bomb the guy really was. In Logan’s mind, it was less of a question of ‘if’ and only of ‘when’ Decker would’ve done something truly horrible. Maybe if he’d just left Decker alone that ticking time bomb of destruction wouldn’t have exploded in school, and his violent tendencies could’ve stayed contained with the rest of the Southside shitheads. 

The knowledge that psycho-boy had a fan in town was not only bizarre but genuinely disturbing. Like those women who marry serial killers on death row disturbing. Logan especially hated that they were being sent to him. It felt like an accusation; like a year’s worth of buried guilt being ripped to the surface. Some of that was deserved, Logan was sure he was part of the reason Decker had targeted the school, but he was also sure Decker was a bad guy from the start. What else do you call someone who shoots up a school besides a monster? Hell, monster is a nice word for someone like that. 

He wasn’t exactly sure why he didn’t throw the letters out, but he stashed them in a drawer in the desk. 

The very last place in town he wanted to visit was the old high school, but he was going to be there tonight at 8 pm. He had to know; who was sending those letters, why, what they thought they were getting out of it.

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Hidden 4 yrs ago Post by Hedgehawk

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Samantha Cox had a tough and fatiguing few years. The past several years had been a roller coaster of one disaster after another. In the space of almost three years, she had seen her business go from the talk of the town, to a ghost town, Her marriage fall apart, and her son get ostracisied from the community. It was a tragic twist of fate that had meant the resilient woman had to buckle down and fight harder for the simple, good life that she wanted her and her family to have. More than anything else, she felt sorry for her son more than anything. She couldn’t begin to think about the thoughts that went through and demons that occupied his mind. The guilt, pain and suffering. No doubt she thought that he blamed himself for the fire, and for the consequences that he wrought onto the family. His mind must have been trying to process so much information that his brain literally forgot how to make words. 

It was this predicament that hurt Samantha the most; not being able to communicate with her son. She didn’t care if the diner got trashed, or if people never came. That could be dealt with. And she knew that Aaron could have handled himself against the Serpents if he hadn’t got shot. But the one thing she wished she could do was bring back Aaron's voice. She had become quite a lonely mother now, with no husband by her side; having a son that you couldn’t hold a conversation with, just made matters worse. She couldn’t hold it against him though. It wasn’t Aaron’s fault. She knew that he didn’t do it. She knew it to be true. She knew her son would never go around and attempt to burn someone alive. Even if no one else believed her, No matter how much evidence they tried to fabricate, she would never believe. The rest of Edenridge might be bitter and callous, but not her. 

Still, as she stood behind the diner counter looking at her son, She didn’t know what to say. How do you communicate with someone who doesn’t talk back? The duo had developed rather crude and simple methods of communication over the past few years. Aaron would sometimes use text to speech on his phone if there was a point that he struggled to communicate through hand gestures. Asides from that, Aaron would use certain signals to help convey his emotions. Putting his little finger down the nose meant Aaron was stressed or tired. A swipe across the left cheek meant he was in pain, while a swipe from the right cheek meant Aaron was happy and feeling fine. Though Samantha didn’t get to see that one very often. She walked into the diners small back office, and returned several minutes later with an old laptop. She put it in front of Aaron to give himself something to do, a thankful, but dismayed smile came over Aaron’s face. If he was going to hide here for a bit, he might as well do something that occupied him.

Aaron spent the first hour in the diner browsing over social media. He didn’t exactly have any friends on his profiles and a fair few people in Edenridge had blocked him, so for the most part he stuck to using incognito mode to stalk the public profiles of those whom he wished he had some contact with. If only they would give him the time of day. It was this exercise that led him to Amanda’s facebook profile. He spent a good twenty minutes looking at the profile picture. His heart was a swell of different emotions: pain, anger, regret, to name just a few. He browsed through her timeline, looking at the statuses about meeting friends, spending time with family, and her road to recovery. There was little to no mention of Aaron, or if there was, it was in disdain. People commenting on the statuses were definitely more aggressive than Amanda’s. He could have swore one of the commenters was Mei. Would make sense, she liked to get her nose in anything involving Aaron.

He couldn’t stay on the profile forever, The feeling of pain was just too much. He would eventually find his way onto Jade’s profile. He didn’t really look at the statuses as such, Not that they were boring, but he spent his time looking at her photos and revelling in the imagery that he saw. Aaron might have been a recluse, but he had urges just like everyone else. While they might no longer be in highschool, Aaron still had a massive school crush on Jade, not that he could actually tell her if he wanted to. He couldn’t even go see her at work without a threat of being bashed by Rey Rey. It wasn’t worth smashing his cane against the fuckers side. Moving on, before things got out of control, Aaron began to look at Instagram and fell right onto Erin’s posts. It was nice seeing all the things she posted. Aaron had always enjoyed nature, and Erin was basically the master of photography in Edenridge. Aaron had attempted to get into photography after the fire, but his only camera was smashed by one of the Triple-S who wanted to get back into Rey Rey’s good books. So for now he simply lived his life through the eyes of Erin and her photography.

Several hours had now passed, and the diner was starting to get a couple of tired travellers who were simply passing through town and needed a pick me up of coffee or perhaps some light food before heading off. Aaron decided to take his leave. It was now 5.30pm and Aaron needed to decide what he wanted to do for the night. His mother wasn’t going to be home before midnight, so he had a lot of time to burn. He decided that the best thing he could do was go to his hiding spot. The trip took just under an hour with Aaron’s slow ass walk and the fact he took several alleys to avoid people who might want to cause trouble. Even going down the street was a tough task of crossing and dodging various people. Eventually he arrived at his destination: Edenridge High. Well, the old Edenridge High. The one that held all the bad memories. Aaron had ironically grown fond of it after the shutdown. People avoided it like the place was cursed, and as a result, Aaron could safely hide away without anyone disturbing his peace.

Aaron entered the building through the main entrance, which had the lock conveniently destroyed on it. Upon entering however, Aaron accidentally forgot to close it, leaving it open for the whole world to see. It was then he was greeted with the dark shadowy image of the corridors they used to inhabit. It always left a weird, but calming feeling coming back here. The place was so devoid of life, but all the memories he had of the place, was when the place was bustling. While the sensation had not been as bad as when he first snuck in, it still gave him an odd tingle on the back of his neck. When he was here he always made sure to avoid the corridor where he was shot. He wasn’t exactly in a rush to relive that trauma again. Aaron began to sleuth around the corridors, the sounds of his shoes and cane echoing along the hallowed walls. He decided he would go to his normal spot in the gym, there was little point in going for a tour, he knew exactly where he needed to be. Entering the gym through the large double doors, Aaron looked around. The windows along the top of the walls and roof allowed the moonlight to light the place up if the night sky conditions were just right. This was the best place for Aaron to relax, clear his mind and generally just let his muscles detense. Walking into the corner, Aaron sat himself down on some of the bleachers, pulling out a pillow he had bought once and left stuffed underneath one of the seats. With the pillow now laid down, Aaron lay down himself, head on pillow, and stared at the ceiling, watching the reflections of light as they hit the glass.

This was Aaron’s zen zone. He was in perfect harmony. He had begun to notice how nature was slowly beginning to reclaim the abandoned building: plants were overgrown and the outside air had crept its way inside. The building itself was silent. So silent that the only sounds that Aaron could hear was those made by his own body. Thankfully it wasn’t so quiet that he could hear his own heartbeat, but the silence allowed the male to drift into a trance like state, a state of true happiness and contentment. Even with the fire surrounding every single aspect of his life, this was his true happiness. He didn’t need drugs, or alcohol to survive the darkness that kept trying to envelope his mind, he just needed this. He stayed like this for a further hour. Not saying, or doing anything, his mind just listening out to the sounds of the building, the building and him, in sync.

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Hidden 4 yrs ago Post by LovelyComplex

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FT. Journalist Wesley Silo @BrutalBx

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Pre timeskip, 5:59 AM on the dot: 

When Kylee Grimm found out there was an audacious reporter from Boston in town, she was quick to ask her father for help. She could’ve found out where he was staying on her own, or even contacted Lincoln to use his sick computer skills to trace the exact coordinates of this guy’s cellular device, but that was more work than not. Her brother had yet returned from Boston and knowing him, he would ask for a favor. Kylee did not have time for a quid pro quo. Daddy had resources right at hand. He was fast and efficient. Why waste her time going through her brother when she could just go to the man that loved her the most?

The mayor’s youngest daughter didn’t want to lose this opportunity, nor did she want anyone to interview him first. Her father was surprisingly agreeable, even validating her, saying it would be a good idea to get to know this outsider, who might disrupt the peace of his town. 

Taking a deep sip of her matcha tea, straight from Cafe Rochambeau, Mr. Beau knew how early Kylee got up so he made an exception to have something prepared for her before the cafe’s open hours, the self-involved princess prepared to go on her livestream, in one of the studios at Absolute Sound. Main Street Music of Edenridge was one of the businesses her father invested in, so the studios themselves were industry standard and she preferred to separate work from play. 

Beside her, with an assortment of donuts in front of him, was the star of the day. Wesley Silo. Kylee would be lying if she said she didn't find this man appealing. Mr. Silo was that kind of handsome that started with the depth and intrigue in his hazel eyes and went to his perfectly sculpted face that got into your bones, causing you to shiver at how natural he smiled. From there, you start noticing other things, like how his voice quickened when he sparked with excitement, clearly thrilled to unravel the many tragedies of her home. Still, this was not the time to mix play with work. She would bury her admiration to uncover a bit more of this man. A man who wanted to get involved with something far bigger than him. 

This episode she’d call: Cloaked Mysteries. He was already debriefed of how things went and for the most part, Kylee was all about having her conversations with her guest flow organically. She didn’t want to force anything. Truths cannot be found if there is a script. Of course, Kylee never came unprepared, she had questions on the back of her mind, but if she thought of something better, she would certainly scrap her notes if it meant delving into something compelling and worth the listen. 

Turning her broadcast on once the clock striked 6 AM, she let her intro music fade in, with added sound design, when it was time for her to talk, Kylee gingerly faded the sound to a low volume, as she enthusiastically chimed in, “Hello everybody! Kylee Grimm here on Eden Angels for the next couple of hours of my show that’s all about keeping you informed, entertained, and involved with our post-apocalyptic home!” Pause. Giggling, she continued, “...Kidding! You know I love it here. As always, Edenridge is where our story begins and we’re on Dawn Patrol!” By the time she finished her spiel, the edit version of the song had vanished completely. 

Glancing over at the reporter, giving him a cue with her eyes, which was her way of saying, you’re almost up, Kylee announced his presence,  “Today is a special day. We don’t usually have someone from outside of town here, but today, today we do and I’m so excited! I hope you’re ready because I’d like to introduce you all to Wesley Silo, Mr. Boston Reporter.” 

Clapping sound bit.  

“Hey, Mr. Silo, why don’t you tell us a little bit about yourself and what brings you to our little home,” Kylee beamed at the man beside her.

"Happy to be here, Kylee.” Wes was not at all comfortable doing this type of thing. He was a nerd, a joke, a social outcast smothered in his Jewish curls. Yet if this was what he had to do to get his story, then that’s what Wesley was going to do. "Well, as you rightly stated I’m a journalist from Boston, born and raised there, go Patriots! I write for the Globe and I love a good mystery which is why I’m here.”

Wesley moved his mouth away from the microphone for a moment to take a sip from his water bottle before returning to face the brunette. "Five years ago, Edenridge was famous only for being the place where the Hangman Killer Alex Lewis was caught. That was it. Now here in twenty twenty one, it’s mere utterance brings feelings of dread and discomfort, like Columbine. In such a short space of time this place has had such a myriad of tragedy and I’m here to find out why. I don’t believe in ghosts Miss Grimm but if I did, I’d say this town has its fair share.”

Raising an eyebrow, engaged and curious of what the future holds for her guest, Kylee smirked, “I’d like to challenge your thoughts and quote Steve Crain, from The Haunting of Bly Manor, ‘Ghosts are guilt, ghosts are secrets, ghosts are regrets and failings, but most times, most times a ghost is a wish’. Are you truly ready to discover the many ghost stories Edenridge has to share and all the monsters lurking behind the veil? You do realize you’re going to make people angry, right?” When she finished her spiel, she took a contemplative sip of her drink. 

"I’m a journalist, Miss Grimm. Making people angry comes with the territory.” Wes had spent much of his youth getting beaten down by bullies and much of his early journalism career being told no or that he wasn’t good enough. "There are strange things afoot here in Edenridge. Crime rates are ridiculously high. Kids are killing kids and the sheer amount of unsolved deaths alone would fill about five seasons of Cold Case. Case in point, the letter sitting to your right right now,” The Bostonian motioned with his eyes to a small slip of paper that was sitting just to Kylee’s left. "If I’m not mistaken, that is one of Charlie Decker’s journal entries which are being sent to Eden residents. I’d like to figure out the who, the how and the why behind that to start.”

“Whoever is behind these letters is kind of sadistic. You’re not the only one who wants to know. All this town is trying to do is heal, but someone doesn’t want us to forget,” Kylee reached for the letter, letting her hand run on Charlie’s handwriting, “It’s funny. How much Charlie Decker saw, yet kept inside. Sad, really. That it led him to wound this place in a way that no one can fix. I have a few theories of who it might be, or might know.” 

Putting the letter closer to Wes, Kylee nonchalantly inquired, “Have you taken time to check out the Southside? That’s where his family is. It’s hard for me to believe none of them would know something. The girl that was practically his girlfriend, even if they never became official. Penelope James. She owns a few of his things. Or how about his, I think, best friend? Mordechai “Decky” Boaz. He was quick to leave town after it all fell apart, but I hear he’s back. There’s also that hot mess of a girl, Jade Taylor, that he kept close at one point in time. If I were you, I’d start there, but that’s just me.”  

Wesley was impressed with the girls hutzpa as his grandmother would say. To name and shame on a popular broadcast such as this and risk the potential of alienating herself from everyone was a bold move. "You’re very quick to point fingers at those closest to Charlie. Yet whose to say it’s not someone from your side of town? Someone who discovered everything and felt different? If I’m not mistaken, your own father, the illustrious mayor of this place, his entire campaign was based around ridding this place of crime but the Serpents as they’re called are still going strong. There could be someone in his camp pushing this stuff out there to make his failures look better.”

When the reporter brought up her father, her eyes glinted with fire and spite, but she was quick to keep that fake smile on, beaming, and contest his thoughts, “Well if you think you can do my father’s job better, be my guest. As if cleaning crime in this town is just a hop, skip, and a jump away,” Kylee rolled her eyes, annoyed, but it was her job to press on, “It could very well be someone that lives in my neighborhood, I never said it wasn’t. But in order to find a lead I think it’s better to start from the beginning and work your way through the town. You can’t assume who Charlie Decker associated with on the northside, but you do know people who knew the ghost that still haunts us today. I applaud you if you decide to start with the founding families or my dad! That’s ambitious of you, but right now you got nothing. You don’t even know who Charlie was. So what makes you think you’ll actually figure out the case before any one of us?” 

This was why he didn’t do media; Wes knew that he had messed up and by challenging the beloved mayor of this place that he was probably making himself into yet another Edenridge pariah. Still he could not keep his mouth shut, that just wasn’t his style. "I don’t pretend to know who Charlie was. I have seen all the same journals you have and I’ve read them and reread them and followed every possible train of thought that I could. If anything you and others like you have a one up over me when it comes to this considering you were there. The difference is, this is my job, to find the truth and the truth of the matter; in my opinion, this whole thing isn’t even about Charlie. Once again, somebody is using him and the things he knew for their own gain. Whoever is doing this, isn’t trying to redeem Charlie Decker. They’re using what he knew to expose everybody else.”

What was this? Some comic book story where there is a mastermind behind it all? Kylee, still young in her own way, just didn’t get why this reporter thought this was more than just bad luck. Edenridge was an unlucky town and death happened. It was part of life. “That’s one big conspiracy you have there,” She sipped her drink once more, before continuing, “I get that these letters are premeditated and have a clear purpose, but what if it really isn’t that deep? What if someone is just mad and trying to spread chaos? Based on the letters thus far, it makes this whole town out to be the enemy. We all failed Charlie Decker. We failed Alison Davis. Amanda Caulfield. Maxine James. All those that died the day of the shooting. What could someone really gain from some sad boy’s death? Even if he did know more than he should’ve, I still don’t get how that can help anyone. All it does is cause us to not trust one another.” 

"Maybe that’s the point, as you say, to create chaos. Either way, this is what I’m here to figure out.” Wes took another sip from his water and glanced down at the letter once again. Those little slips of paper were the key to everything. The police had tried to track them. They had tried DNA. Nothing was pinging back. That was a mystery unto itself to unravel. "It’s my sincerest hope that the people of this town welcome me in. I’m not here to drudge up old feelings and bad memories. I just want the truth. I’m here to help.”

“I suppose that’s admirable of you. I’m sure, whether they’re ready or not, there are people who want closure. No matter how much it hurts, people deserve the truth so all I can do is wish you the best of luck,” scribbling a quick thought down, hardly readable because of how tiny she wrote (it had to do with her talking to someone about something), Kylee mused to her guest, “Can I assume you’re going to be at the school tonight?” 

"Maybe. I’ve got a few other leads to check today besides…” He bowed his head towards the girl and smiled, "There’s already going to be one reporter there getting all the juicy details.” Wes casually glanced at his watch, knowing full well that the interview was nearly over thank god and he could get in with his investigation.

He did have a point. She would be there and if he was willing to share information with her, she could do the same for him. Still, Kylee did wonder if bringing an outsider into all of this would benefit anyone. Then again, maybe an outsider was just what Edenridge needed. “You’re right about that. I do appreciate you taking time from your busy schedule to talk to me. I hope we can stay connected. Who knows what the other may find! Now, listeners, we’re entering our intermission so please listen to some sweet vibes, starting with Ghost by Au/Ra & Alan Walker.” 

After switching the broadcast to play a pre-prepared playlist, Kylee put her tea down, stood up, and apologized,  “I’m sorry if I came off strong! Sometimes I get carried away and you mentioned my dad… I’m sorry!” 

Following the smaller girl's lead, Wesley stood up to his full lanky height and smiled, "Please I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bring your father into this. Sometimes my mouth decides to write cheques that it can’t cash. I have a habit of letting my two hundred mile an hour brain dictate my words.” Scratching the thin fuzz beneath his chin, the reporter entertained a thought before reaching into his tan blazer and handing Kylee his card. "In case you have any information you want to share. I think with a talented insider like you, my job could be a whole lot easier. We could really make a difference together. Just think about it.”

Holding his card between her pointer and middle finger, examining it, Kylee twinkled in eagerness. The age difference was transparent between these two, from experience to attitude, but that didn't mean they didn't share a common goal. Plus, he made her feel like she could be a valuable asset to him and that’s what she cared about more than anything in the world.  

“I’ll give it some thought, Mr. Silo. If I do give you a call, that’s a BIG IF, I want ice cream,” she winked at the journalist, before checking the time and as fast as she let him in, she kicked him out of the studio, “It’s been great having you! I still got a show to host. Have a good rest of your day, sir, and beware of all the ghosts watching you. OooooOoOoOooooo!” 

After closing the door behind her, Kylee leaned up against it, dwelling on the interview that just transpired. She should be more worried about the repercussions, but she was too busy immersing herself in the emotional complexity of social ether and all the fascinating points that Mr. Silo brought to the table. 

A man who didn’t believe in ghosts. 

“We’ll see how long that lasts.”

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LovelyComplex Retired Zone

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A @LovelyComplex & @Venus Collab
Featuring: Danilo Belmonte & Tiffannie Taccone

Watching his mother grapple for the happiness she once felt before, trying to find her path and peace, Danny found himself taking deep breaths in the bathroom, building up the courage to do his routine visit. He knew how scared she was. How terrified of the idea of her breast cancer getting out to the public because she truly didn’t want her battle to be twisted. If anything, she wanted people to see the real and authentic her, that they’ve seen at her restaurant. The one and only Silvia Belmonte, from the Big Apple, who served the best homemade pizza in the whole goddamn neighborhood. Not the dying woman she was now. 

In Edenridge, unless you had cruel intentions, you do not control the narrative. She wasn’t blind to the world around her and how most of her life her husband was involved with something that could’ve gotten her and her kids killed. Even if you can be saved, you’re innately drawn to sin. 

Silvia knew a sinner when she saw one. That’s why she wanted to help them. Each person deserves the chance to be saved. However, she wasn’t naive nor was she short-sighted. She knew some people were beyond redemption, as sad as that sounds. They couldn’t be saved because that defining moment was long gone.  

In chaos theory, there is this thing called the butterfly effect and it is the idea that a small change can make much bigger changes happen. One small incident can have a big impact on the future. Would her death help her family or break them? Silvia truly believed that there were moments in people’s lives that could change everything, and that perhaps, we do live another timeline, in a parallel universe. 

Prior to her cancer escalating, her husband thought she watched too much TV. Cinema gave her all these fantastical ideas of time travel, time loops, and alternate timelines. This year, Taz latches onto those notions in fear of losing his wife, forever. If she could continue to lift up such a shattered community, she would. Sadly, she knew she was weak. Each and every day she could feel her body, her mind, and her soul become a little more powerless.

Silvia was tired.

Approaching the door, Danny all dressed up for his night with his ex, and their peers, for an event he can only assume would be emotionally charged, the future man-of-the-house stopped in his tracks. He stared at the door and swallowed deeply. Don’t cry. After knocking on it, he could hear a faint, yet serene voice beckoning for him to come in. Nodding to himself, he reached for the doorknob. Once he entered, Danny closed the door behind him.  

No one in the Belmonte family was ready to accept losing their rock. It was so much easier to act like the pain didn’t exist. It was so easy to push all the dark bullshit on the back burner and act like nothing has changed. That you were in control and your life wasn’t so incredibly unpredictable.  It wasn’t just Danny refusing to acknowledge that something was wrong. No. Everyone in his family was extremely vulnerable right now, but when they left those front doors, they brought their sense of control back, even if it was clearly fleeting. 

There was no way in hell they’d break. There was no way in hell they’d have the community worry about them. How could you seek security when you’re so used to being security for everyone else? If only they could let their mind escape. Go to a tropical paradise and forget all this pain that filled their hearts, but Danny knew, he just knew, the only way to get better was to face this beast mano-a-mano. No matter how terrified he was himself. He, his sisters, and his father could no longer bury the despair and with their mother constantly begging for morphine, not wanting to feel the hurt anymore, and the letters, these stupid fucking letters, they can’t forget. Life doesn’t want them to. 

After thirty minutes, Danny quietly exited his parents’ bedroom. Instead of despair, he wore a face of apathy. When he felt triggered, and the loving bond he desperately needed, a tender kind of love, was nowhere in reach, he decided to survive. Cool and indifferent. Consistent in his morality. Consistent in his way of living. Consistent in being strong, because he had no other choice. After making his way downstairs, he followed a sing-song voice, in hopes that could help lift his spirits before being in a car, alone, with his ex. 

The voice led him to the home's ample kitchen, where a blonde girl in bright pink hot-pants and a black T-shirt one size too small was mumbling a song under her breath and dancing in front of the stainless steel refrigerator while opening the lid of her favorite ice cream pint. His cousin Tiffannie was the type to be in good spirits the majority of the time, but today she seemed to be a little more chipper than usual. She placed the lid on the granite countertop, grabbed a spoon from a nearby drawer and took a few bites of the chocolatey concoction, never once pausing her singing and matching choreography. It was only after she stumbled mid-twirl that her eyes fell on Danny, and she jumped and yelped a little in surprise.

"Daaaaannyyyyyyy!" she whined, her cheeks flushing lightly. "Why do have to be such a creep, standing in the corner all silent like that? You scared me!" she told the man, pouting and taking another bite out of her ice cream pint.

Raising an eyebrow at the vibrant blonde he was blessed to call his cousin, Danny crossed his arms and leaned up against the rim of the kitchen archway. Disregarding the stalker comment because he wasn’t one and even if there was part of him that did investigate some things he would never admit that to her, Danny smiled, “I heard a pretty song. It led me to an overly happy Lil’ Peach. What’s got you in such a good mood, anyways?” 

A mischievous smile spread across Tiffannie's face. "Oh, you know! Life. It's wonderful, isn't it?" she answered in a singsong voice, giving another little shimmy before taking another bite of her ice cream. It was then when his appearance downed on her, and her perfectly arched brows furrowed together. "Are you going out tonight?" she asked him, her tone growing suspicious. "You better not be going off to a party without me!"

“You know I wouldn't.” Danny was quick to protest. Was it so wrong of him to not wear active wear and look good in front of his class? Yeah, he even put the good cologne on because it’s been a minute since most of them were under the same roof, assuming they would all attend tonight. “I’m picking up an old friend and we’re going down memory lane.” Okay, that sounded weird and misleading, and it fuelled the fantasies of the overly-imaginative cousin currently wiggling her eyebrows at him.

Clearing his throat, he left the archway and stood beside the island. Nervously releasing a cough, he breathed, “The letters, Tiff. I guess someone has some answers? So yeah, I’m going. I think I need to? I don’t know. Do I look okay?” 

The girl nodded enthusiastically. "Mhm! You look amazing," she sweetly complimented her cousin, skipping over to him to wrap him up in a quick hug, trying to not get any ice cream on his polished clothes in the process. "You smell good, too," she noted in approval, deeply inhaling his spicy cologne. Tiffannie had the nose of a bloodhound, so it was easy for her to pick up on the fact that Danny had upped the ante for the night by using his expensive cologne. Whoever this girl was, she was really lucky. Her cousin was clearly planning on getting laid tonight.  

"Who's the lucky girl?" she asked curiously, digging into her frozen dessert pint again.

Tiffanie had this nature about her that caused Danny to lose his train of thought faster than she made any men get hard. Without even thinking, he started saying his ex’s name, “Mar—” but when he realized what he was doing, he finished his answer with a lie, “—cela.” Fuck. Uncontrollably blushing now, Danny decided he needed to back away and leave the premise immediately.  “So yeah, thanks for the compliments, they’re great, you’re great. I’ll… I’ll see you later! Bye!” 

"Nuh-uh!" Tiffannie cried out, slamming her ice cream pint on the countertop and racing after Danny, her bare feet barely making any noise against the cool hardwood floors.

Thanks to the girl's long legs and her quick instincts, Baby Peach caught up with Danny before he could reach the door to the garage. And before he could stop it, Tiff was wrapping her pink-manicured hand around his arm in a surprisingly strong, vice-like grip and turning him around.

"You don't get to lie to my face and think you can get away with it!" she argued, the pout back in her lips now. "Marcy's been over here to hang out with Mira thousands of times, and you guys have never said anything to each other beyond the blandest of 'hey's. You really expect me to believe you're dressed like that and smell like that to go out with Marcy? I call bullshit."

With how intense Tiff was prying in his private love life, Danny found himself biting his tongue out of frustration, conflict, and anger. He didn’t like the feeling of being cornered and this is exactly why he would never tell his cousin about Marco, or Francis, or any crushes he’s had of the same sex. She didn’t know when to close her trap. “Lie or not, it’s none of your business.” His voice went down an octave, as he threatened,  “Get. Off. Of. Me.” 

They were doing so well up until now and this might have been an overreaction on his part, but what did she know? She didn’t know what he was going through. Tiffannie did what she pleased with hardly any repercussions and if her actions did have consequences? She had people always protecting her. He held back his urge to manhandle his cousin out of his way and gave one of the darkest glares he’s ever given her, showing she hit a spot she probably never knew he had in him. 

Tiffannie's eyes widened as big as her mouth did, and she let go of Danny's arm out of pure shock. In the eighteen years she had known her cousin, he had never spoken or even looked at her in the way he was doing now. She could feel her face getting red with the million emotions going through her, and her blue eyes immediately filled up with hot, burning tears. Her lower lip trembled dangerously for a few short seconds before she ultimately burst into tears, turning on her heel and storming out of the room. Her quick footsteps echoed across the kitchen and up the stairs as she went, followed by the sound of the guest bedroom getting closed a little louder than usual. Meanwhile, the pint of ice cream stood abandoned upon the kitchen countertop, a small puddle of condensation forming underneath it.

Once his cousin was out of the room, Danny lifted his hands and ran them down his face, stretching it a bit, in exasperation. He wanted to scream. The Belmonte boy took his resentment for himself out on an innocent person. All Tiffannie wanted to do was root for him because he hadn’t gotten out in a couple of months. Instead of being honest that he was seizing this opportunity to rebuild a bridge with his male ex, he got defensive. What the hell was he protecting anyways? His livelihood? His honor? Why couldn’t he just be honest with her, with himself, and everyone else? 

He was scared and that was pathetic. 

This might’ve been irrational of him but he worried if he did reveal his interest for the same sex his mother would die unhappy and his father would blame him for her death. Why couldn’t he be like Francis? Open and upfront about his sexuality, regardless of what others think. Or Marco? That boy had no shame and it was so admirable. 

Grumbling to himself, Danny turned back from the garage door and cleaned the kitchen counter, tossing his cousin’s ice cream away. He made a note to buy her more, as he wiped down the dirty surface.  “You’re a fucking idiot,” he scolded himself.  

One thing he did get lucky in was how no one was really around to hear any of that. If any of his sisters were around, or worse, his father, this would’ve been a bigger scene. Checking his wrist watch, he found the excitement he had once before, completely gone. Maybe this was stupid of him. The reasons he had to go to this thing tonight didn't matter anymore, not even giving closure to Marco was on his mind. Yet, he wasn’t one to change plans last minute so he forced himself to go to his car. 

Time to get this night done and over with. 

“A good day gone sour. Fucking great.”

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