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NATALIE MILLER  █ act one: way down we go p. johnson's ▸ Ritman High [Football Field] Interacting with @Salsa Verde  |  The way it started was a conversation with Natalie's manager. He had said that the Ritman High reunion would be a good image for her brand. The instructions were to snap a few grams and do some silly dances with old classmates for TikTok. It would show that Natalie valued those times that everyone has such bizarre nostalgia for even if they hated it. He was also adamant that it would repair much of the old hatred and bitter endings between Natalie and her so-called victims. The time leading up to the event flew away faster than she could realize. Natalie had managed to speak to her parents about the spectacle, though. They were elated to have her home again for a couple of nights. However, the offer came with the stern stipulation that Natalie was to be ‘friendly’, as they put it. There was nothing she could do but agree. Natalie simply had to show that things were different now, to some degree. She wondered if anyone would even notice it, let alone give her a chance to make it noticeable. The flight from New York City to Portland had been uneventful. The old city was as it had always been. Natalie had been there on more than one occasion, just as every other kid from the Delton area who wanted to party or simply hang out. The first bump in the road came with the car rental guy. Natalie had no idea what the fuck he was on about when it came to insurance, so she had to call her manager. It turned out that there was no misunderstanding or problem—Nat was just plain old stupid, a dumb bitch with no life experience. When she managed to get everything in order, the drive to Delton had been just as uneventful as the flight. She was not used to that kind of long-range driving. Staying awake was a bit of a problem, but some music and a couple of energy drinks fixed it right up. The first stop in Delton had been her parents' house. Seeing as Natalie was an only child, it was a big deal when she came around these days. Her dad, Charles Miller, had taken a chivalrous role by unpacking the car and carrying all of his daughter's luggage upstairs. Her mom, Hillary Miller, had been the target of all gossip and catching up in regard to NYC and Natalie's work. The rest of the time between arrival and P. Johnson's had been spent in Natalie's old room, going through nostalgic things and pictures. Natalie did not deny who and what she was back then, but at least she has the capacity to be someone else. The initial spur at P. Johnson's had been a bit of a roller coaster ride, emotionally. Natalie had managed to get a somewhat clean, uncomplicated road set up with Meir after some banter and offering of drinks. She instantly recognized him when barging inside the establishment, which was surprising to her. Meir had been the 'hit list' of Natalie's buddies back then, at Ritman. Natalie did not quite do much to him herself, but neither did she stop any faulty play that was unmistakably visible to her. Hopefully, she would be able to make it up to him, and anyone else that showed up and would show up soon. ✱ ✱ ✱ ✱ ✱ "Does it matter if it's locked, though?" Natalie said and took another sip of her drink. "We didn't come all this way to be fucked over by some fence." She chuckled at the thought—ridiculous. Natalie was rather startled by Meir's next commentary, but not in a negative connotation. It was rather exciting to see an otherwise awkward recluse loosen up a bit. "I spent a lifetime partying already, Meir. And you're just weak in the knees. You BARELY had anything to drink." She sighed with a smirk on her lips and swept the last bits of sparkling alcohol before getting ready to move on. The way to the football field and its surrounding areas was not without a good splash of nostalgia and mixed feelings. Plenty of spots dotted around the school complex, the field itself, and surrounding nature had over the years been dedicated to all sorts of mischief and no goodery—not to mention all the times that after hours drinking on Fridays had ended up in this place for whatever reason. Natalie certainly felt that she had not partaken in the fence acrobatics for some time, going through that hole. A few strands of her hair got stuck, as per usual, but muscle memory never failed and it was a quick fix to free herself. And, then, there it was, that ugly ass bird in the middle of the field. "Man, that thing is as horrid as I remember." Natalie sighed, although listening to Billy's soothing chatter. Meir had, indeed, become a new man. Her phone kept buzzing. "Stop spamming the chat, Meir, fuck." She said and blurted out a bunch of random letters and numbers as answer to his text in the group chat. A playful smirk almost crept onto her lips. Banter aside, Billy looked like a movie star from the 60s with that cigarette case, that awfully appealing noir aesthetic, enough to make a gal swoon. With that image in mind, Natalie's train of thought was derailed by Trystan Salazar's entrance. She did not quite recognize him at first, but the closer the man came the more apparent it became that Natalie had some apologizing to do at some point. The guy had certainly received the sharp edge of the stick back then, the whole gang being unnecessarily hostile, Nat included. She felt slightly embarrassed, not sure of what to say. She stuck to a simple yet friendly but relaxed wave of the hand as a greeting. |
I powered through, need a cookie for this one.
