NeoAJ

Edenridge

_{A @NeoAJ & @LovelyComplex Collaboration, Part 2 Present Time || Featuring: Jillian O'Brien & Danilo Belmonte}

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The people around him had mixed feelings about his presence, including the girls he saw as friends. He could lie and say he didn’t care, but he did. He cared a lot. Danny used to be the king of this very court right here, but now? He was a highschool has-been, probably a future gas station attendant, or at least, a guy who had no idea what he was going to do for the rest of his life. Maybe, he’d settle with a food service job because conveniently his family owned two businesses. 

Sadly, Danny ruined his chances to join the big leagues and just lived the past couple years on auto-pilot, with routine and pattern, so he could always be there for his family and loved ones whenever they needed him. His life was on hold because it seemed the worst years had yet to come for the Belmonte family. His eldest sister was bound to get a divorce sooner or later, Elisa probably would overwork herself to death, Tiffanie would get fucked to death, and he was sure there were more issues behind the curtain of the Belmonte show. 

If he was being honest with himself, even younger Danilo knew basketball wasn’t his future, but part of him wanted to believe basketball was everything he loved and dreamed of doing. Part of him wanted to believe life was that simple and he had everything planned out from start to finish. Part of him believed he would be a star forever. But, he wasn’t a complete idiot and he knew that wasn’t a life meant for him. 

He knew even on the court, sure, he made the girls go wild and everyone praised him, but he didn’t feel fulfilled. It was like he was walking this meaningless life, always trying to impress and make his parents proud. He tried to justify this feeling of emptiness. Did it root back to when his twin, Natalia, started distancing herself? Or when Cece came to him crying and he realized there was more to life than looking cool? Or did it happen when he met Marco and found that up until he met this goofy boy he was just playing pretend? Like the real him was stuck in a box and only Marco could open it… 

He had no idea but he knew, after the end of sophomore year, with Francis, Rhett, and all those in Allison’s year already gone, her ghost lingering in the hallways of Edenridge High, that basketball wasn’t his forever. He just knew... there was something more for him, but what was it? What was his forever? He had no idea of his destination but it certainly wasn’t being in the NBL, which he was told he would be part of ever since he was a little kid.

Now in his feelings, when his eyes locked with his childhood friend, Jillian, Danny cleared his throat and approached her. Kylee had walked away, leaving an open space beside her. Placing his hand on the back of his neck, like he had done at Marco’s house, he offered an olive branch, hoping she would take it. Danny knew she was still mad that he slept with her sister, Grace, the same year when he no longer had Francis to look up to, but he also wanted his friend back. 

Even an inkling of what she used to be, he missed, and so he approached her, with no hesitation. Hoping things could be like it used to be, but knowing very well it can never be, he asserted,  “It’s good to see you, Jillybean. Um,” He could smell the strong stench of booze coming off of her and he gave her a genuine concerned look,  “... are you sure you can handle this?” He didn’t want to discredit his friend, but she’s been through so much already and this might just add to all her inner turmoil. Unfortunately, before she could respond the montage of Allison Davies started playing. 

Her attempts to put up some sort of psychic wall or call the ghosts to her aid to block Danny Belmonte had failed, and now Jillian O’Brien had a lot more to deal with than how many hits Aaron Cox could take from a vodka bottle and which one would break first. She wanted to scream at Danny. She wanted an apology for what he did to their friendship when he did her sister. She wanted an apology for not even bothering to check in while she was recovering from the attack that dashed her hopes of having a family of her own to look forward to. She wanted an apology for stealing the Pokemon cards out of her Happy Meal when they were nine. She wanted Danny to be fucking sorry. 

But there was no time for any of that. Apparently the ghosts were busy rigging up the audio/visual tech in this shell of a school, blaring the projection of one of their own. Allison Davies in happier times, with a future to look forward to that was seemingly limitless with its possibilities, her smile beaming. Back before that mouth was filled with foam and death. That optimistic look was one that Jill used to have herself. Now it filled her with pain to even imagine smiling that wide. As much as the strains of “Summer Long Gone” that filled the room. She couldn’t think about that song anymore. It was like someone had designed a PowerPoint of torture. Like most PowerPoint presentations. Jillian closed her eyes shut, not wanting to submit to it anymore. Not wanting to give whoever was doing this the satisfaction of drawing emotion out of her. Emotions were a thing of the past. They had to be.

As the gunshots rang out, Jillian opened her eyes again as the music video came to an end with the cryptic “Callahan 16-7-5” message. It had to be Roddy. Roddy was the last person to see Charlie Decker alive. He had to be tied to this. But Jill couldn’t be sure. Those emotions that were supposed to be a thing of the past? Anger was still a very prominent part of her present.

Danny though. Danny was still standing there, seemingly looking for an answer from her. Unfortunately, the one that came during the video wasn’t great. So Jill needed another one. “Handle this?” she slurred. “The only handle I gotta worry about is tha handle of this bottle not breaking while I beat the shit out of whatever braindead motherfucker thought this was a fucking funny joke! Dragging us here for this bullshit! Dragging up shit from the past like it’s a fucking game!” Hanging out with Mei as much as she did now had clearly given Jillian some of her bravado, and her penchant for swearing. “Fucking A/V nerd here being an asshole. What the fuck even happened on July 5, 2016?”

As the once star jock observed his friend with one hell of a sailor mouth now, Danny found himself cupping his chin and covering his mouth with his left hand. For a moment or two, he was stuck in a state of shock. Shock of what was projected on the wall and shock at how horrible his old friend’s state was. Jillian was barely understandable and living life in her primitive brain, behaving accordingly.  

More often than not, Danilo Belmonte had encountered his friend, and her family members, on numerous occasions since the fall out. Rarely was she sober and if she was, at least up until sophomore year, she wanted nothing to do with him. This though. This Jillian was ten times worse. When did her perpetual state remind him of poison? When did it get so bad? Six months ago? When she lost... 

That feeling, that turned his emotions jagged, curled up in his stomach and chest. This feeling that seemed to be his new normal as of late continued to make his insides tight. And he felt powerless. Guilty. This was all his fault.

When Danny looked at Jillian, who peered at him with emptiness in her eyes, those eyes that refused to connect and let him in, he could only stand there and watch. Her emotional pain, as much as she tried to hide it, seeped out in her words and he could feel her hurt. He could see her invisible scars so raw, with no skin to cover up the pain. 

He only had himself to blame. None of his gifts were received, either thrown out or refused or stolen right off her porch. All Grace suggested was to give her sister space and time to heal, as if she had done nothing wrong and this was all on him. When really, it takes two to tango, but that one mistake made Jillian feel the ultimate betrayal so maybe Grace was right, this was all on him. Maybe he was a fool for thinking with his dick instead of his heart at the age of sixteen. 

Danny wasn’t pleading to be the best guy in the world, especially not during highschool, but this felt drawn out and he hated seeing her get worse and worse by the day. It seemed no one cared about her state, not her family, not her so-called friends, no one. She was drowning herself in alcohol, cursing and yelling at the world because hurt people hurt people, and just… looking sickly. Slowly killing herself. 

He royally messed up. He knew that. Danny had thought, at the time, that Grace would be a big win not only in his and Quinn’s game but also he thought, maybe Grace could cure him of his ‘disease’. He was wrong and if anything, he lost Jillian and found men more attractive than he had before. That was neither here nor there because what he was presently witnessing was Jillian’s skin looking dull and grey, her eyes being completely bloodshot, and her hair clearly thinning. Did no one know that too much alcohol dehydrates you? 

Just when he was finally going to respond, his green eyes went back to the still image on the wall and those numbers. At that point in time, his mind was taken away from worrying too much about his old friend who hated his guts to the numbers before him — the feeling of nostalgia flooding over him. Why were those numbers so familiar? Why did he feel like this clue was only possible if he had come tonight? Who knew he would come tonight? Lost in thought, but still directing his words to Jillian, Danny freed his mouth from the hand that was covering it and snapped his finger, as if this would help jog his memory, “I think, I think I know those numbers.” 

Knew those numbers? That would mean Danny knew something meant something, and that was not a track record he had established in the past. It meant he would do things like not sleep with a friend’s sister.

It seemed petty for Jillian to still harbor such a grudge over something so long ago that apparently meant more to her than any of the other parties involved. But it still hurt. Grace was the closest sibling to her in age and with the other three now moved out of the house, it should have been the stronger bond. Instead, in the wake of their dad’s passing, dishonor happened. Her relationship with Grace had gone from a frenemy sibling bond to a frost-coated bridge that neither of them had been willing to cross since. She didn’t even know what Grace was doing to support herself or if her mom was charging rent. Jillian didn’t care to find out. Grace clearly didn’t care either.

Danilo Belmonte? Even now he seemed as clueless as ever. Rubbing the back of his neck trying to figure out what to do next. How many times had Jillian offered him advice? How many times had she kept him in check for his own good? Except the one time there was going to be no chance of her involvement, and he failed. And kept failing. Was there anything behind those eyes? It didn’t seem like there was for a while. Until he decided to snap his fingers and proclaim he knew the connection.

“Know what? What the fuck those numbers have to do with anything? And how are you knowing shit? It’s Roddy’s family up on the board! Why isn’t he coming up with tha number one answer? Huh?!?” Jillian wasn’t worried about volume control at this point, so the Callahan boy probably heard what she was yelling about. Good. Him and Lanie can bond over how much they hate her. Might as well join in with the cosmos. “What the fuck happened that fucking summer?”

Jesus Christ. All these curse words and the pressure of Jillian yelling at him was reminding him how the coach or his father would talk to him when they countlessly told him to pass the ball. To say he was getting increasingly annoyed by this was an understatement. He was trying to do a good thing but she was treating him like garbage. Jillian had changed and honestly? He was wondering why he cared about her in the first place. 

“Would you shut up!”

Edenridge

_{A @NeoAJ & @LovelyComplex Collaboration, Part 1 Flashback || Featuring: Jillian O'Brien & Danilo Belmonte, small feature of Grace O'Brien}
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Not that she was expecting a party upon her entry into the old stomping grounds of Edenridge High, but one of the people at the bottom of the list of Jillian’s desired welcoming committee was Aaron Cox. It didn’t take a rocket surgeon to figure out why. Mei hated Aaron. Jillian would die for Mei. Ergo, Aaron was now Jillian’s enemy as well.

Not that she had many opportunities to let him know. In terms of personality reversals, Aaron walked… well, hobbled, so Jillian could run. He seemed all right enough in freshman year, but after Ally’s death, he retreated hard. At least Jillian understood the process now. It took a long time to get her there, but she understood. Didn’t make him any less of an asshole though. Especially given the rumors that he was the one who led Charlie Decker down the path of mass murder. He didn’t even have to pay for it with his life. Just people who mattered covered the charge for him. Fucking Aaron.

Aaron apparently felt the same way given his flying finger to start the proceedings. Clearly intended for the Demon Dream Girl, but Jillian briefly extended her own middle finger from her death grip on the vodka bottle in return. Sister solidarity and all. But the numbers were starting to turn. Decky’s appearance in the doorway was unwelcome, as well as the arsenal of weapons he seemed to be packing. But Jillian outmatched him on vodka and the redhead didn’t care about that bat at the moment. A day full of drinking eliminated any fear she might have had from someone notorious as the Serpent. Being afraid was not on her agenda tonight. Not here.

Being sentimental? That was possible.

Jillian was doing her best to portray that image of a woman with nothing to lose and everything to gain via the bottle in her hand, but that was still tough to do as the crowd in the gym grew larger. Especially given she had warmer feelings for this group than was ever possible for Aaron or Decky. At least for one of them…

Of course the fucking doof is here…

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December 4, 2016, Edenridge, MA
A little after school...

”Why are you here, Danny? I thought you’d be at the gym or something?”

It wasn’t strange for Danny Belmonte to be in the bedroom of Jillian O’Brien. Trying to count the amount of times that Danny had been sitting on that bed would be like trying to count the grains of sand on a beach. Since kindergarten, it seemed like there would be a good enough reason for the boy to come over, deliver another batch of baked goods that never seemed to last long when swarmed by the various members of the O’Brien household, and settle in to Jill’s room to do… well it varied. When they were younger, it was mostly just playing with whatever toys they had. Danny would bring his DS and let Jillian have a look at his accomplishments, while Jill would show Danny paintings and various creations. Later it became more for advice as the two navigated the middle grades.

Still didn’t explain what Danny’s most recent call was for. The Celtics’ season started tonight. It was Danny’s first game as the freshman had made the varsity squad.

“Don’t tell me the pressure is getting to you, Danny boy? Worried about the big game?”

Danny worried? Yeah right. He just needed to kill time before he met up with the team. Basketball was his life and taught him a thing or two with how to deal with it. One step at a time, like running, but with the end goal of making the shot. In his case today, his focus was to win. Winning was always a priority for a Belmonte child, especially for the only son of Taz and Silvia. Losing was never on the agenda.

His basketball shoes and sweet threads were a good show of his dedication to his sport. Danny knew he was top tier because he lived and breathed his sport. He didn’t need new shoes. Even with second-hand shoes, for a good price, he ruled the court. It didn’t matter what was on his feet because it wasn’t the shoes that made him shine. It was his competitive and driven spirit that did. As for his threads? What freshmen can say they were on a varsity team? Well, aside from his twin, Natalia Belmonte. She was intense in volleyball and he would hate being on the receiving end of her spikes. They were both stars in the making, they knew it, and one day, everyone would remember their names.

With his gym bag on his friend’s bed, his team’s hoodie on, and black shorts, Danny stretched his arms and had a smug grin on his face. The young jock’s body assumed this world was one where strength was the only thing that mattered and ever since he joined Edenridge High Varsity team, their style of play leveled up to run and gun. Heavily offensive, where they rely on fast breaks while getting many points in. To say it was getting to his head was an understatement and perhaps, that’s why he was here.

He was soaring in the sky but deep down, even if he would never say it outloud, he didn’t want to go so high that he got burnt by the sun. Danny had wings and when he jumped on the court, he was living in the moment and all the cheers and the girls, oh-the-girls, just made him want to show off even more. He loved it and couldn’t live without the attention. Still, he knew that wouldn’t make him a winner. He needed to win. Not even for himself, but for his father.

All his father’s hopes and dreams were on his only son’s shoulders and he couldn’t let his old man down. Danny had wondered if it wasn’t for the past life that Taz lived prior to Edenridge, would his father be a big basketball player too, instead of a lowkey chef in a small town? It was his father, after all, who taught Danny everything he knew.

That was neither here nor there because whatever Danny was doing was clearly making his father happy, so the young Italian boy would continue to optimize his skills in his passion. Coach told him that his flaw was his need to be cool, but being cool doesn’t win a game. If he wanted to reach the next level, and have a chance in the NBA, he needed to think about the team. He had to think of his team. Maybe, just maybe that’s why he needed to see Jillian. She cared fiercely about people and when she thought of the cheerleaders she thought of them as a unit, not just her on the top of a pyramid. To succeed, you need support. Doesn’t matter how high you go because what if you slip? What if you fall? If you fall, having trampled on everyone that believed in you to get to your destination, who’s going to be there to catch you?

Instead of answering his friend’s questions, Danny went to her window to look at their neighborhood and chuckled, recalling his middle school years on the court, “You remember when I touched the net last year? I didn’t care I was in the middle of a game, I just screamed ‘MOM I TOUCHED THE NET!’ I was so happy that I finally achieved something I had been thinking about for years. All that training and hard work paid off.” He nodded, impressed with himself before adding, “I’ve been working on my dunks lately.” He turned around to look at her, intense determination in his eyes, “I think I’mma do a 360 windmill. Just imagine how cool that’ll look?”

Jillian just stared into Danny’s eyes for a moment. Danny would have these gazes, gazes where it seemed like not even Wonder Woman would be able to stop whatever it was that the Belmonte boy had set his mind to. Danny was stubborn, but in that good way where he wouldn’t quit until he succeeded. How many times had he worn Jillian down in order to put Phineas and Ferb on the TV instead of Teen Titans? How many times did Jillian have to tell him to leave the driveway so they could go to the movies instead of trying to make that 10th free throw in a row? How many times did Danny have to be told how many 11 times 13 was? It was rare that Jillian gained a win in those head-to-head battles.

But maybe that was why Jillian was in the position she was now? All those friendly clashes with Danny stealing her own resolve to allow her to be more assertive with others? She effortlessly claimed the captaincy of the freshman team with the support of Liv and Kat and surprisingly Mei given she didn’t think Mei had that much of a preference for who was the leader, and was starting to take charge of some aspects of the squad. Even Allison… ALLISON FREAKING DAVIES herself! She was taking notice of how Jillian was handling her fellow frosh. Would she have been able to pull this off and land herself at the top of the pyramid without the consistent sparring with Danny, and for that matter Grace and Ronan, but mostly Danny? It was hard to say. She was an O’Brien, after all. She was meant to be this kind of leader.

So when Danny detailed his plans for his entry into whatever slam dunk competition he imagined was taking place at the Edenridge High School gymnasium tonight, for a few seconds after he stated his mission, Jillian believed him. All the work he put in over the summer. All the effort she saw him throw into the 1-on-1 battles with Taz, while she watched from the sideline, trying to talk to Danny’s sisters and watching as Talia seemingly wished nothing but death upon her. Maybe, just maybe, that Belmonte boy was going to touch the sky and dazzle the crowd so hard that even Allison Davies had to turn and stare at what she just witnessed.

Then the redhead remembered that Danny barely got to the net as he said, and was going to need more than a two-foot growth on his vertical to make that happen. And she did her best to suppress a laugh. Danny also gave Jillian a lot of practice when it came to being polite in that regard.

“Oh, I can imagine you looking pretty cool out there hanging from the rim after you pull that off,” she confirmed. “Of course, I can also imagine not seeing you for a while after the FBI comes to take you and your Flubber-enhanced shoes away for testing. And while I’m sure that would allow Talia to enjoy not having to see me hanging around with you all the time, I’d miss having you around here, Danny.” Jill finally allowed that laugh to slip through and stood up from her bed. “So I’m going to suggest saving the windmill dunks for the playoffs and sticking with the good old-fashioned two-handed putback for now. Just to keep the heat from the feds off, eh?”

This wasn’t what he wanted to hear. Danny wanted Jillian to believe he could, so he would. Believe in him so he’d have enough fuel to make the great leap happen. It was how their relationship worked! She gave him encouragement, so he could succeed. If she didn’t think he was ready, he probably wasn’t and would get injured by being too ambitious. He hated to hear it. Sure, Danny knew he could use a bit more height, he was still a freshman and had time to get over six, but people were going to be there watching him.

Francis was going to be there watching him!

Francis Callahan, Allison’s boyfriend but more importantly, the best goddamn football player Edenridge High had ever been blessed with. Even before Danny joined the school, he made sure to come to the games with Viv. Like, what basketball was for Danny, was football for Francis. It felt like only yesterday when seventh grade Danny ran off the bleachers, away from his family, just to have the football team run past him, out of the locker room, and Francis looking down at him and giving him a gleam and a high five.

There was no one feature that made Francis so nice to look at. His eyes had this honest gentleness, his smile had this intense glimmer, pearly whites, and his voice was like music to his ears. It quickened when he sparkled with passion and talked about things he loved. There was so much depth behind Francis’ face that stopped Danny in his tracks. How could Danny NOT do something cool? Was he going to waste this game by playing it safe and losing his chance to impress Francis?!

Dramatically sighing, emphasizing on the dramatic, Danny shuffled his way to his friend’s bed and tossed himself over it, where his body was in a plank, and his face was planted in her pillow. His heavy body caused his bag to jump in the air and out of his way, falling onto the floor. Muffled, he whined, “How do you expect me to be cool if I don’t do a dunk?!”

Jillian thought of her first answer, which would be to point out how Danny couldn’t expect to be cool while being such a sook, but that would be impolite to say out loud. Besides, Danny was someone who thrived on encouragement, who needed that belief that people thought he could do things beyond the realm of the normal bonds. Managing to knock his bag off her bed with just a thump fit that bill. At least in Jill’s world. But she had other ways of pumping Danny’s tires.

“There are plenty of ways to be cool while playing basketball without dunking, you know?” she offered. “It’s not just slams that are on the highlight reels my dad watches every day! You could deliver an ice-cold 3-pointer from the corner! You could make a sick no-look pass to Colin Redmond that leads to an easy bucket. Shoot, you know what the biggest, coolest play from the NBA Finals this year was? LeBron James. Blocking. Andre Iguodala. I know because my dad wouldn’t shut up about it!”

This was true. Shane O’Brien was a huge Celtics fan, both Edenridge and Boston, and he encouraged most of his children to pursue athletics. It’s why Kieren played soccer and Ronan played basketball and Heather played hockey. Grace and Jillian were the only two that never actually stepped onto a competitive field in the O’Brien patriarch’s eyes, but at least Jillian’s cheerleading skills got her on the sidelines. Grace always seemed to be the black sheep of the family to Shane, although Jill’s mother usually picked up the slack in supporting the middle daughter’s artistic side. Still, hearing the O’Brien males dissect the night’s action over the day’s breakfast was as regular as clockwork. It was natural Jill picked up a little via osmosis. Plus it helped tailor specific cheers depending on the sport she was pepping up.

“So many ways to change the course of a game, Danny boy. I mean, would dunking be talked about? Sure. But stuffing a ball back in the face of a stuck-up Monarch? Making that punk eat that shot like an egg-salad sandwich? That would be pretty cool.”

With his face buried in her pillow, Danny listened to his friend making a lot of sense. Dunks weren’t the only cool things in basketball. Still, the reluctant side of him wished he had a growth spurt so he could be flashy. Lazily, he pushed himself up and grumpily crossed his arms, “That sounds dope, I guess.”

He didn’t like that she made a lot of sense but it was for the best that he got over himself and took in her advice. As LAME as that felt, perhaps playing a safe move, but still doing a cool move, could lead them to victory AND impress. If her plan failed and Francis didn’t even bother giving him a wink let alone a smile tonight, then, THEN he’d be upset but until then her suggestions to be cool could do the trick. Deciding this was enough focus on him, he glanced up at his friend and cooly inquired, “How about you? Nervous for your girls? Isn’t tonight like that… shiny sparkle star thing?”

Jillian thought for a second, before shaking her head. “Not really. I mean, you know Ally right? You know she’s been drilling the entire squad for months waiting for this moment. I’m sure her and the others are going to be just fine. Better than fine even. The Monarchs are going to take so many Ls tonight!” She shoved Danny’s legs over on the bed so she could retake her seat at the foot. “It’s going to be important on us to set the tone, sure, but we’ve done really well in such a short time. Cece’s come along nicely, Mei just brings this raw fire, Liv and Kat and Lanie are pros at this point, we’re going to set up Ally’s crew really well.” A bright smile beamed across Jillian’s face, thinking about the prospects of eventually being in Allison’s spot, trying to get that Shining Star trophy for Edenridge and making sure they had a dynasty secured. It sounded like a challenge. It sounded like fun. “Between me and Lanie, I think we’re going to have enough ideas to make sure we keep that title in Celtic hands when we get our shot.”

The conversation was interrupted by a knock on the doorframe. “Jill, you haven’t seen my green top with the lace hem, have you? I could have sworn you borrowed it.”

Jill didn’t answer the question yet, merely slightly annoyed by the presence of her older sister in the doorway. Grace would know that even if Jillian had borrowed that top, which was possible. It was a very cute top and worked well with her deep blue skinny jeans. But even if she did, it would have been in the laundry and back in Grace’s dresser a while ago. No, it was likely there was a different reason for her intrusion.

“I haven’t touched that top since homecoming like two months ago, Grace. You sure it’s not still in with your stuff?” The annoyance was well hidden at this point. Jillian was a pro at putting a fake layer of glitter on almost anything she said. “Or you know, not in my room?” The keyword was almost.

“Nah, couldn’t be sure.” Grace shared the trademark red hair her sister had, although the older O’Brien was willing to experiment a little more. A couple streaks of green and purple could be seen in the bangs, for the school colors and … a color she liked. They swayed slightly as she leaned on the door, the bright shades up top muted by the black tank top and leggings she was currently wearing. The top would be doing some work if she could find it. “It’s kinda important. I told Finn I’d be wearing it for his good luck, you know.” The mention of Finn Yates, the junior forward on the basketball team, and the latest in a long string of boyfriends she had in her time at Edenridge, didn’t deter her from taking a long look at the athlete in the room. “Hey Danny,” she cooed in a voice that was too sing-songy for Jillian’s liking. “You ready for tonight?”

By now, one would think Danny was prepared for all encounters with Grace O’Brien. But when he looked at her, he found himself stunned. No matter the day. No matter the season. She was like a sexy drug he imagined having, but had to behave because, like… this was his friend’s sister. When she was growing and he watched her, when he was in middle school and learning more and more about the kingdom of sex, Grace was like a goddamn wet dream. Still is.

Now he was in highschool and he could enter the playing field, but… would she? With him? No. Stop that. Even if he and his buddy Quinn had this game going on and even if he had Grace on his conquest list, this wasn’t where his head should go. Not the night of a game. God, he could shove it in Quinn’s face that he was better if he did have Grace on his list though.

Sexual frustration aside, Danny snapped out of it and goofily grinned, “So ready.” Man, no game at all. Unfortunately it was non-existent in the O’Brien household. How embarrassing. Clearing his throat, he eyed the older girl, as her gaze invited him in, and stumbled on his words, “But hey, if you got some extra luck in you…” Danny’s voice trailed off, looking between Grace and Jillian. Sometimes, he wondered why he hadn’t tried getting with either. Then he remembered, he cared too much about the redheads in his life, specifically Cece and Jill, to ever see them as a lover would.

Glancing at his smartwatch on his wrist, he muttered, “Damn.” He had lost track of time. To add to the alarm of the mass text messages because his family had no chill, he could hear honking outside. Jumping back off the bed, retrieving his bag, his phone vibrated, being spammed by his family. “Thanks for the talk, Jillybean. And uh-hm, hope you guys find that green top… for Finn’s good luck.” Yeah, just Finn. Rushing to the door, he found himself stopping for a short moment to look at Grace’s flirtatious smirk. This was unfair. No one should be this hot.

As the Belmonte boy rushed out the door, no doubt to find an ice-cold bucket of water to dunk his head in, Jill’s gaze followed him during his exit and remained fixed on her older sister even after her friend departed. “So Grace, want to explain what that was about?”

Grace just offered a chortle in response. “Relax, Bean. I’m just trying to give your boyfriend some extra motivation to beat Pinehurst tonight.”

“You know Danny is not my boyfriend.”

“I know a lot of things. Like I know Janelle James wasn’t in last period History today. Word is she caught something that was going around after Lauren Hicks hooked up with some Bay boy with a bad case of the ick.”

All Jillian could do was roll her eyes. “That makes no sense.” Janelle may not have been the brightest bulb in the cheerleading squad, but the upperclasswoman would know not to risk anything on this day. Shining Star day. “I bet she just dipped early to help Ally prep for tonight.” A buzz on her Galaxy distracted Jill for a moment from her battle with her older sister, especially considering who sent the message. “See, that’s Ally there. Probably just checking in on how the frosh routine is coming along. So if you don’t mind, I’ll just…” Jillian trailed off when it became clear this was much longer than a simple check-in text.

Grace smirked as she figured out before her younger sister that there were things brewing with tonight’s performance. “Trouble in paradise after all?”

The pale shade of white Jillian’s face had turned confirmed there was trouble. Grace hadn’t seen that kind of look since Ronan swung her around the living room and broke a lamp with her head. “Um… yeah… Ally says all the upper-class cheerleaders are out with some sort of virus and aren’t going to be able to compete and… we’re going to have to do the routine tonight... HOLY SHIT!!! GRACE! AHHHH! WHAT AM I GOING TO DO?!? OH MY GOD! I’m not ready for this! I’m frosh scum! I can’t be the Shining Star tonight! None of us are ready! What are we going to do? I don’t even know what lipstick shade I’m going to wear! Should I just go natural? What do I-”

Jillian was cut off for a second time, but this time it was her sister bringing her back to reality with a forceful clap beside her ear. “Jill! Calm the fuck down, OK? You’re going to be fine. No one gives a shit about your lipstick.”

“Ally will.”

“NO ONE gives a shit about your lipstick! Look, Allison’s been running drills with you since the fall, right? She’ll be able to get you all through this. Girl’s got some will to her, that’s for sure. You’re not as hopeless as you think you are. You’re going to be fine. Just stop undermining yourself and get ready to rock tonight, OK?”

Grace’s mini pep talk seemed to snap Jillian out of the frenzy the news of the impromptu call-up sparked. “OK. OK. You’re right. This is fine. This is going to be fine. We’re totally not going to screw this up for Allison. She’s not going to hate me at all. It’s fine.”

“Jill! Focus! Now, where is that green top?”

The brief moment that Grace took her older-sister role seriously had ended. “I don’t know where it is. Maybe Heather stole it when she came back for Thanksgiving… Grace, tell me you aren’t going to try and sleep with Danny.”

“No! Sis, no. I saw eight-year-old Danny Belmonte squirt a combination of orange Kool-Aid and milk out his nose. Nothing will entice me to give him the Amazing Grace experience.” Jillian wished she didn’t go third person in reference to her reputation like that. It raised expectations on her that she didn’t necessarily want yet. “Now stop focusing on that and focus on getting in gear and getting to the gym.”

“Right. The gym. That’s where I need to be…”

____________________________________________________________________________________________

Why the fuck is he here? Why the fuck am I here?

With Danny now present, and apparently another former friend who abandoned her in Lanie Lancaster popping up behind him, it was clear that there were more ghosts here than in Mei’s last year’s worth of podcasts combined, and Jillian really didn’t care for it. Her grip shifted on the vodka as she screwed off the top and took a long pull from what was remaining. If it wasn’t for the friends she had remaining, she probably would have taken off, withdrawn from this situation and retreated back to her room. But she had to stay. For Mei’s sake.

Jillian O’Brien didn’t say a word as the top went back on the vodka bottle. All she could do is curse the fates that made this situation happen.

...and the letter writer. Fuck them.

Edenridge

_{A @LovelyComplex, @BrutalBx, & @NeoAJ Collab}
Featuring: Kylee Grimm, Mei Ramsey, & Jillian O'Brien
With Guest Star: Hailey Grimm
^{and a little bit of Garrett "Rhett" Cleary III}
▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

Kylee Grimm spent her day having a date with her ‘mother’. On days that she didn’t have much to look forward to, the sugarbaby that was trying to call herself ‘mommy’ went out of her way to use the youngest Grimm, that still lived in the nest, as a source of entertainment. To summarize Kylee’s day, they went to the mall, which was more Kylee watching Miss. Frenchie trying on many, many, many outfits, they got their nails done, and they grabbed a bite to eat at Palermo. Throughout their day, they got plenty of stares, as per usual, but this time there was a mixed pot of feelings towards Kylee, who chose to start her day with valor. From what she could see, there was disdain, confusion, and hope. At least now she could guarantee she had listeners.

At some point during that day, Kylee had texted her sister and the moment she stepped in the house, she turned right back out, dropping the shopping bags on the floor and leaving the blonde woman behind. Hailey Grimm pulled up in her 2015 Ford Mustang Convertible and the moment she came to a full halt, Kylee slipped in and hissed, “Thank GOD. That woman is so goddamn needy.” She huffed and puffed and when she was finally done being extra, the brunette grinned at her sister, “Haileyyyy, thank you! You are the absolute best.”

“Uh-huh.” Hailey nonchalantly responded before snapping her gum, “You’re lucky I have some time,” Her sister, a natural sex ba-bomb, with perfume that created a welcoming haze, shook her head at her youngest sibling while shifting gears, leaving their father’s estate at full tilt. The baby princess knew Hailstorm had work tonight at Edge of Sin, so asking this of her last minute was an inconvenience, but she also knew that her sister hated that woman too. It wasn’t that hard to state her case and convince her sissy to help her out. ‘Just this once.’

“They’re at the Hole in the Wall, probably drunk as hell,” the mischievous gossip girl absentmindedly skimmed her socials, while her blue haired vixen of a sister sped through the streets.

Glancing over to the girl in a pink berat, the promiscuous girl probed, “I’m surprised you’re sober honestly. You sure you got this? Whatever this is tonight.”

“One of us needs to be the sober one, Hails, and I have no choice but to ‘have this’. I can only assume tonight will bring up Allison. My girls need me,” Kylee sighed, placing her phone on her lap, “Plus, if I don’t show my face, after all the things I said this morning, I’ll be called a coward or whatever unclever thing my peers can come up with.”

“Do you need a gun?”

“W-what?! No, no it’s fine. I think the last thing we all need is a gun in that place.” Jeez, sometimes she wondered if her sister’s screws were loose. If someone brought a gun at this event that was focusing on Charlie’s letters, that would just be sad and dumb. Very dumb. There probably would be cops not too far away from the scene anyways.

Quickly changing the subject, Kylee started to talk about how crappy her day was. It got to the point that Hailey decided to drown her sister’s voice out with music. Her music. Hailey adored her sister, don’t get her wrong, but sometimes… she just didn’t know when to shut up.

Sighing to herself, not oblivious to her sister’s annoyed expression, Kylee looked out the passenger seat window, at all the houses passing them by, waiting to get to their destination. She didn’t know how she felt about this but she hoped it wouldn’t be too painful of an experience for her friends.

---

A couple hours before...

Rena: “I know a little bit. Me and Jill will be at the school tonight to catch this fucker! You should come by and bring your foxy cousin xxx”

Mei hit send on the message and then placed her phone back onto the damp wooden table which had been soaked by the spillage of one of her or Jillian’s many drinks. The Hole in the Wall was a great bar. The booze was cheap, the wings were to die for and the music wasn’t half bad and that was saying something considering Mei’s eclectic tastes. She pounded down her shot of vodka before chasing it with the Holes signature ale; Hazy Banshee; a mango and guava IPA that blends perfectly with those damn tasty wings.

”You want wings? I want wings. RHETT!!!” The girl called out to the poor assistant manager of the bar. Rhett was a nice guy, they went to school with his sister. The dogged young man turned up at their booth looking tired. He would never understand why his father insisted on opening early and these girls had been there for hours. To be fair, he probably knew that the booze hound former cheerleaders were going to be his best customers. ”More wings. Twenty-five plate, thank you handsome.” The poor server headed back to the kitchen to cook up some of those famous chicken wings whilst Mei threw back another shot.

”I got a few requests for you to be back on the show this week, think you’d be down?”

The first thing that was down was Jillian’s glass. It had made the trip from her lips to the table countless times since the girls arrived at the Hole. The condensation from the glass had made the landing a bit of a splash down at this point. The redhead had lost track of which number vodka cran she was on. It never really mattered in the end. All that mattered was that she stuck with the vodka. Mixing grains this early in the day was a recipe for mistakes.

The second thing down was her elbow as she used her hand to prop up her head while she looked at her best friend. She was surprised to hear there were calls for the Ashes to rise again on Mei’s podcast. Granted, she was better equipped to tackle some of the darker subject matter nowadays compared to when her nickname was something more positive. Ashes was a pseudonym she came up with on the spot when Mei asked if she wanted to be on an episode. Now it was a thing.

She laughed slightly. It was harder to do these days, but Mei was the one most likely to be able to pull them out of her, aside from maybe Danny on one of his absolute doof days. “Hard to believe I’m that much of a hit. I didn’t think I added that much to things, but I guess people like to hear two people talk about the mysteries of the macabre even if they have that fake Irish accent going on, huh?” The soothsaying banshee voice was also created on the spot, based on her grandmother’s lilting tones. It was a little slurred given Jill’s desire for G&Ts while recording, but it worked well enough for people to want her back apparently. Plus, it gave Jill a little bit of space between her real life and this world where she had answers from beyond.

The glass made another round trip back to the table, but sounded hollow this time as another beverage was emptied. “But you’re lucky I take payment in wings, so I’ll be on the show anytime you’re offering.” Jill looked up at where Rhett was running back to the kitchen. “And another VC, Rhett!” she shouted as loud as she could muster. It wasn’t much these days, but it was something. Those wings were going to taste great in the shadow of her makeshift breakfast though. “So what’s the topic, anyway? Are you still planning on talking about Amanda? ‘Cause I mean, I’ve heard some shit, but I dunno how much you want out on the airwaves,” she warned.

”You know me Jillybean. I got nothing that scares me and people deserve to hear the facts about what happened. There are too many damn lies floating around this town.”

Mei didn’t really consider herself a journalist by any means yet it seemed to be the role that she acquired. She was a better looking Veronica Mars in leather and fishnets and felt things just a little too much. Of all the tragedies to befall this town, even those in no way connected to Mei, she felt them hard. One might describe her as an empath, attracted to the bitches, bad asses and broken things that the winds of darkness left behind in this godforsaken place.

Perhaps this was why she and Jillian were as close as they were. Flashback but a few years and the two girls were worlds apart. If you were to line up the cheerleading squad of the Edenridge Celtics, you’d see what you’d expect. Bottled blondes, beautiful people and in the midst of it all, a fiery redhead and a wannabe goth. Through tragedy their bond was sealed and now at least on Mei’s side; she would die for the girl that sat before her, of that there was no question.

”You should have heard Kylee’s show this morning. She had the reporter guy on, he sounded hot to be honest, wouldn’t be surprised if she mounted him then and there. I’m talking mucho sexual tension.” The thought of any kind of sexual fun made Mei just a tad thirsty. It had been a while since her last encounter and the need for some release was growing stronger with each drink.

After yet another shot and a wing from the plate that Rhett has so graciously rushed from the kitchen, Mei looked her friend up and down and planted her hands firmly on the table. ”You know what? Here’s the plan. You and I are going to get dolled up, fucked up then we’re going to go to that fucking school, kick the shit out of whoever is sending these damn letters and then we’re gonna get laid. We could both do with it. Don’t even question me on this, Jill.” The small girl was a force of nature, even if Jillian argued, she wouldn’t listen. ”I’m gonna hit up Ky. We need a designated driver.”

With that she pulled out her phone and dropped Kylee a message to meet them at the Hole.

As Mei laid out the plan for the evening, Jill looked down at herself. Dolled up was going to be an effort to get to in her current state. Especially if it was a fighting-mode dolled up style. But there was no point in trying to change Mei’s mind. It was funny. It seemed Mei was more of a steadying influence in high school, keeping Jillian and her high-risk ideas for the squad in check before the redhead went too far beyond the team’s capabilities.

Now? Polar opposite. Mei was the one who was ready to go out and do whatever it took. In contrast, Jillian was not in the state to be denying that desire. Certainly not with as much alcohol as she had enjoyed already. At least she still had spare makeup in her purse so she wouldn’t necessarily have to go back home. Her current outfit was more than all right for fighting. Tank top + short shorts = total mobility.

“Why would I question you on this, Mei? Fuck that caligraphy asshole! Who the hell writes letters anymore anyway? IG it like a normal person!” Not that Jill would have had the desire to check the gram, but still. It was better than trying to hide those offending letters from her mother. Shannon was already a wreck after the shooting, unsure what she could have done to protect the baby or her friends. Jill had the levels of apathy needed to deal with it without more unnecessary care coming from mom. “I dunno if getting laid is in the cards for me though. I mean, more than happy to play wingwoman for ya, but I just dunno. Not a lot of guys in this town are worth it. I mean, if Danny is top-tier, what does that say about the state of Edenridge on that front? Especially if Kylee’s got the reporter on lock. You sure she’ll tear herself away from him to be able to pick us up?”

”Oh for sure, she owes me.” Mei grabbed another wing and in the least lady-like way possible, demolished it in about three seconds flat. Thems was some good meats. ”No one ever accused Danny Belimonte of being top tier talent, Jill. Maybe it’s time you came over to the dark side like me. Women rarely let you down, you know why? Cos women know women. Men are idiots.”

Jillian laughed at Mei’s statement. She knew her friend wasn’t shy about her openness for any kind of relationship regardless of gender, but for Jill? She had experimented a bit in the past, usually at the bar when it was easy for her and Mei to get a few free drinks from the idiot men in exchange for a few seconds of lip-locking. However, there was no indication one of those idiot men would be worth her while. Who would be a better candidate among the women of the town though? As Rhett delivered the latest in her procession of beverages, she took a long, hard sip from the vodka cran and put it back down. “I’m not going to argue that one. Can’t count many times Kieren put Ronan in the washing machine when we were kids. But… I dunno. Giving men up completely? I’d need a pretty good reason.”

”Who said anything about giving them up completely? Men are great for a distraction but for everything else? If I was to give my heart to anyone it’d be a woman.” Mei had uncovered her identity fairly early on in life. In fact it was probably after Allison’s death that she realised that her feelings for the beautiful departed went far beyond idolisation or sisterhood. In hindsight, it was purely infatuation but it was enough to convince her of what she was beneath the black clothes and make up.

Mei loved Jillian as dearly as anybody could love anyone. She would be lying if she hadn’t peaked at her in the shower after a gruelling cheerleading session or two as she did with pretty much most of the squad but that was pure curiosity. Relationships were a thing to be cherished, at least in Mei Midnight's eyes and she was comfortable being friends, sisters or more with anyone in her life; it was her blessing and it was her curse.

”We need more drinks. Rhett? Sweet pea? Mama needs another round!”

---

“Okay hurry your ass up. My phone is going crazy. Guessin’ I’ll be hard carrying tonight. Jade isn’t going to be in, and I’m sure other bitches called out. Fuck. We’re understaffed.” Hailey pulled up in front of the Hole in the Wall. As she put the car in park, she grabbed her phone to catch up on the text messages from her coworkers.

Kylee rolled her eyes and opened the passenger seat door, “I still don’t know why you work there. You don’t even need to.”

Not looking away from her phone, texting back people, the dynamite stripper criticized her little sister, “At least I have a job.”

“Hey! I have my show. And I help you! All the time.” Kylee protested as she stepped out in frustration.

Ungrateful, little bitch.

With an ice cold stare, the blue haired activist (or anarchist depending on who you ask) blew a large bubble with her gum, before popping it and taunting, “How’s that going for you?”

Nope! This conversation was over. Not having it, no longer interested in anything Hailey had to say, Kylee slammed the door and stormed to the front of the bar. Throwing the bar door open, the bell ringing to announce her presence, she scanned the room for customers that were very drunk, very loud, and very cute.

When she did see them, she didn’t approach immediately. Her dark gaze went to the man behind the bar first. He was wiping the surface down, being all cool and sexy and professional. No one feature made Rhett so handsome, though his jawline and eyes came close. It wasn’t fair how his kind of handsome just went through your bones, made you shiver and just ugh. Why was it so easy for her, to this day, to imagine his lips on her’s?

As Rhett’s gaze went to her, capturing her eyes and enslaving them, he smiled and waved. A charmer through and through. Letting her go, just as fast as he stole her breath away, Rhett went back to running his business and making the customers happy. Sighing in hopeless unrequited love, Kylee watched her first crush walk away, like he had always done in the past and then patted her cheeks.

That was enough.

Bringing her mind back on the priority, Kylee called out to the girls she knew all too well, “Mei! Jillian!” hiding any anger she had experienced with her sister moments ago. Energetically, the mayor’s daughter inquired, “You guys… good?” Once her voice double-made her presence known at this place of business, Kylee pranced her way to the cutie patooties that have not exiled her for being innately petty, judgy, and kind of a brat. The ones that loved her for her!

Upon the arrival of her friend, Mei stood up to her full, tiny height and pressed a beer and wing tasting kiss onto Kylee’s soft lips. Flashes of past evenings popped up in her mind for a moment before planting herself back down onto her seat. ”We’re all good, Goddess. We’re gonna blow this damn letter mystery straight out of the water. Bitch just call me Velma.”

“Not sure I like that making me Daphne by default, but I guess I resemble the remark,” Jillian added. In all honesty, the comparison made sense given some of the thoughts in her mind at the moment. She was pretty sure Daphne and Velma were doing something together, since Shaggy was too busy with drugs and food, and who would want to do anything with someone wearing an ascot? If it wasn’t for the honey-garlic flavor Mei applied to Kylee’s lips, she would have taken a shot at seeing if it was better than the tequila she usually got. Still, Ky was here. It was a good reason to not think about that sort of thing.

”Just saying you’d look fantastic in purple, Ashes.”

“And I’m just saying I’m not helping you take care of any giant great dane you find.” Jill punctuated this remark with a wink and a stuck-out tongue.

“Anyway, one more of these VCs and I’ll probably be good. Besides these wings are better eaten here than on the road, and I can’t try and get fully riled up for a beat down on an empty stomach. Thanks for the lift, by the way.”

“Anytimes, babes.” Kylee looked between her two friends, while licking her lips clean from Mei’s flavorful kiss. Hm. If Mei was Velma and Jillian was Daphne, what did that make her? A gender-bent Fred? Huh. Shaking the random thought away, she took her phone out to text her sister that they’d be out soon.

---

Me and your girlfriend playin' dress up at my house
I gave your girlfriend cunnilingus on my couch
She cute, kawaii, hentai boobies, that excites me
I think she really likes me, asked politely, can I (woo-hoo)

The car ride consisted of drunk girl laughter, a lot of questions and compliments towards Hailey, and a sing-along to Hailey’s cover of Slumber Party (by Ashnikko), among other songs on her phone. With how rowdy this ride was getting, Kylee had to roll her window down. The thirst and repressed sexual tension was just a lot. She needed air.

Part of her wished she let loose and got drunk herself, or gave no fucks like her sister, but if she did that, no one would take care of her friends. This was the burden she’d bear because she didn’t want anyone to take advantage of them. Kylee didn’t know how Hailey could be this way, never setting a good example as one of the mayor’s daughters, but then again, Hails had always been kind of this way. Wild, exciting, and cocky, with a bigger ‘sword’ than any guy she knew.

For as long as Ky could remember, her sister was many people’s wet dreams, especially in highschool. She recalled people approaching her freshman year, boys and girls, just to see if they could get introduced to the Hailstorm of Edenridge High. Maybe that’s why Roddy and her worked so well as friends. They both struggled in the shadows of their older siblings. When people talked to them, it wasn’t for them, it was for Francis or Hailey.

Hailey was a cheerleader in Allison’s year, rest in peace Allison, and considered popular like Miss Cheer Captain. Even so, she transcended her cheermates by not really giving a shit; not about her future, not about what people thought of her, and certainly not about rules. Hails had a way of brushing off all the rumors or squashing them when it involved people in her circle or herself.

On top of her not shying away from her intimidating. anarchy attitude, she openly shaked what her daddy gave her. A big ass and tits to match. You know Missy Pantone from Bring It On? A born trouble-maker that isn’t innately girly, whose abrasive, punkish, and dark. That was basically her sister. Someone that shouldn’t have fit on the cheer squad, yet really made it work because she was sex incarnate. It also helped that behind all the bitch, she was team-oriented, which was what Alison liked. But really, we all know what got her on the team was her sex appeal and her ability to twist, turn, flip, and fly, making others thirsty by simply existing. If Allison asked, Hails would flash her tits, if that meant they’d win.

Clearly, Kylee would never know how to use her body like her sister does, nor pretend to be above it all, because sadly, she cared deeply about a lot of things. So yeah, at this point in time, the youngest Grimm tried her best to numb herself to her sister’s existence. Be less insecure. This wasn’t highschool anymore and they were in two different worlds.

Thankfully.

When they entered the parking lot of their old school, a feeling of ominous nostalgia fell over the Grimm girls. They hadn’t been at this place for what felt like ages. It was weird to be back. When Hails pulled up in front of the gym, she offered, “Call me if you need me. If not. Link and Ken should be home from Boston within the next hour. Other than that, be careful and don’t take any shit.” If Edge of Sin wasn’t so understaffed, she would love to find out what this was all about and who was sending Charlie’s letters to the whole town. That was neither here nor there though. She knew eventually these girls would share their findings, whether privately or publicly. “Seriously though. If anything happens. We are a call away.”

Narrowing her eyebrows, Kylee surveyed her sister’s seriousness and surprisingly stern visage. She was being genuine even if she was kind of a bitch earlier (on their way to pick up Mei and Jill). I suppose I can forgive her… No one fucked with a Grimm kid and got away with it. If you expected to not have problems with the rest of them, you were clearly mistaken. They could pick on each other but the moment someone overstepped with their sibling, shit hit the fan. “Yeah, I know… thanks.”

Jillian was certainly in a better mood from the start of the day. From the wings with Mei, to getting to catch up with another one of her mentors from cheerleading, complete with singalong, to the fact that she had copious amounts of alcohol in her system (with the half bottle of vodka in her possession still untouched), things were on the up and up today. Plus reconnecting with Hailey Grimm had the chance to fix a cash flow issue she had been having lately. “Thanks for the ride, Hails! Let me know what they say, eh? I can start whenever!” It was time to get serious though. There was some letter-writing fool in here that needed an ass-kicking. She removed the bottle from her bag and held it in a manner that suggested either a drink or a clonk would be coming, and whoever was in the old school would determine which happened first.

A fire had been lit under Mei after that car ride. Between being around an icon like Hailey Grimm and the copious amounts of adult orientated beverages she had had, she was eating to go. The talk of dancing at the Edge got her all hot and bothered in multiple different ways as the mere existence of ReyRey fucking Gonzales made her blood boil but the thought of his dancing girls, well he sure knew how to pick them; Hailey, Jade and if Jillian were to sign up Mei would have to reserve a permanent booth at the Sin; to gawk and to protect. She should wear a badge.

Grabbing a nearby piece of wood from the floor, the goth girl began to swing it in her hand gracefully. She may be drunk but years of training never just disappear and Daddy Ramsey would not be best pleased if his baby girl couldn’t protect herself or those she loved. ”Let’s get this fucker.”

The door to the gym was open; a fabled almost mythical place. The Edenridge Celtics were somewhat of a high school sports dynasty; a religion in this town and this was their church. Mei had spent four years of her life between these walls in a tiny white and green uniform, flashing her ass to keep the rowdy Irish invested. What even was high school? As she scanned the large echoing room, the familiar Snow White hair of a long held enemy.

”Well well.”

Edenridge

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."

Rosefell High.

---

Smug fucking pricks.

Of course, Melissa couldn't expect stuck-up pieces of trash to learn from the first interaction. Their parents probably paid other people to do the learning for them. It was clear there weren't any social skills on display. But having watched her fair share of Disney movies growing up, this was an opportunity for the Ohioan to do what none of those Mighty Ducks or High School Musical kids ever seemed to want to do to their rivals.

At least, until she was interrupted.

"Excuse me! Hi. Is the punch good? I just got here so... I'm a bit behind. The name's Trixie. Well, Beatrix, really. I think you're Melissa, right? and you, DeShawn? Please correct me if I'm wrong! I think you both have some classes with my brother."

Well, at least Trixie was showing a bit more class than these other fools. It was enough to get Melissa to snap out of revenge mode for a moment to play the gracious host she usually was at these sorts of things. "Hi Trixie! I can call you Trixie, right? Well, you are correct on your names, and you know what, I think Dee here can help you out and get you some punch." A devilish smirk spread across her face. "But be careful! she said quietly, not wanting to completely telegraph what was to come as revenge filled her mind once more. "It's got a hell of a kick to it."

After winking at Trixie to punctuate the warning for her, she turned around to her true target. A target that stupidly turned his back on her thinking that they were done. Not by a longshot. Not when had so much to be taught. Like that all boys have the same weakness. A weakness Melissa was familiar with. She reared back and promptly buried her cranberry juice-stained Aldo flat right into Jackson's junk, intent on kicking so hard the snake charm on the front would leave a permanent imprint on his scrotum. She could feel she hit paydirt too. Those shoes weren't that thick after all.

Content to let her boytoy crumple after such a kick, Melissa went back to Miki for another tongue lashing. "I'm sorry, did I not make myself perfectly fucking clear? This is my fucking universe. This is the Rosefell universe. There are no high roads here, you stuck-up little bitch! You think there was an opportunity to sneer down your ugly $2000 nose job at us? Fuck. No. So since you saw how my foot apologizes to absolute pissant little shits who wouldn't know a muscle if one slapped him in the face, you ready to actually fight for yourself instead of buying your way out of trouble? Cause you better believe this ain't over, yet. And if you've stalked me enough to know my Insta handle, you know the kind of fight you're in for. Or maybe you just can't wait to get physical with me, can you girl? Either way, I'm right here and your pathetic excuse of a man is down for the count, so put up or shut up!" Melissa raised her arms defiantly in front of the former Liberty student. "You want this fucking crown? Come and try to take it from me."

Rosefell High.

So far, Savannah's stint at this shindig had been rather dull by her standards. There hadn't been any brawls or cat fights. No one had offered her anything harder than a joint. It wasn't much, at least for her liking. Sure, she had been able to successfully intimidate a couple of boys who clearly thought they had a shot with her before learning otherwise. But she could do that anytime she pleased.

Still, it seemed like business was picking up. While making her way towards the drink table, she could easily spot one of her usual clients in the middle of something. Or at least, she could spot what she assumed was her boyfriend next to her. Melissa had gotten into something with what looked like a couple of rich kids. Savannah could get behind that kind of action. Or get some action going on the side.

With a hushed tone as to not attract the attention of the combatants, she started asking around, her Texan drawl slowed to try and entice some trusting fools to take her up on her offer. "All right, who wants in on this? I've got Melissa and her boy as the 2-1 favorites, but if there's some kind of martial arts training with the rich kids I don't know about, it's someone's chance to pick up some money here! Who wants in?" Not forgetting the reason she got close enough to this action, she more loudly turned to the crowd by the drinks table. "One of you dolls want to find me a bottle of whiskey and hand it over? Can't watch something like this go down without some beverages."

Rosefell High.

---

Inside, Alina let out a huge sigh of relief. There didn't appear to be any awkwardness between her two party companions. She should have guessed Hunter's seemingly endless natural charm would have seen to that, but Raven could be a little wild at times. At least wild compared to Alina now. But for now, things seemed to be going well. This was good for her?

But was it good for Raven? The noises caused Alina to turn her head and she could see that asshole Theo up to his old tricks. She said this as if she had intimate knowledge of everything, but really everything came secondhand from Raven. Girls got girls though, so Theo was an asshole, and if what Raven had told her about him was true, he had found himself another target to leech on to. Alina watched her friend and her face said it all. That was no tequila cringe. That was pure disgust.

She waited, unsure what to do. Old Alina might have just charged in and dropped a challenge to try and make Theo look enough like a fool that no girl would want him. However, she wasn't nearly confident enough to do that now. She'd muck it up for sure. Besides, the flight response hadn't been activated in Raven just yet. Besides, it seemed like the crowd was circulating around something else.

Alina reached over and put her hand on Raven's shoulder, as if to let her know she wasn't alone in sending all the negative vibes. "That's my girl. Thanks for the support, Ray." Content to let Hunter offer up a distraction, she turned to the boy who was helping both of them deal with their respective distractions at this point. "All right, Hunter. What's your game, and how do you want to play this?"

Rosefell High.

---

If you wanted to make Melissa Elliott mad, you badmouthed the Knights or insinuated something about her and Zoey’s upbringing given the lack of a father figure. If you wanted to make her irate, you called her Missy. While she adored the music, the bombardment of Missy Elliott jokes she had gotten over the course of her life because of her name had left her a tad sensitive to the subject, and she quickly put a stop to that upon entering the halls of Rosefell. No one dared use that nickname for her anymore.

Of course, it would stand to reason she would have to educate these Liberty fools about the price paid for using it. Double for this little trollope who dared insinuate she was the clumsy one! How dare she? She didn’t maintain the most serene grace on the balance beam and on the sidelines to fumble remnants of alcohol willy-nilly! Besides, she was probably the one who pushed this fool into her! Oh she was going to get it.

And her little boytoy too! Nice of him to apparently grow a spine when threatening a teenage girl. What a mouth on this one! Too bad he clearly didn’t have the muscles to back it up, looking like some boy-band singer, and Melissa was never one to let gender stop her from giving people a thrashing. It helped knowing she had the backup. It didn’t take much for Dee to announce his presence behind her. The perks of their relationship were apparent yet again.

Melissa looked back and smiled at her not-official-boyfriend as he let Jackson know who his dance partner would be if he wanted it. “Thanks Dee. I know you’ve got my back. But they’re going to need the help.” She took a couple breaths allowing herself to center as she stood in front of Miki and Jackson, interlopers that needed to be put in their place.

Miki fired the first shot, she could get the first taste. “Now you listen and listen good, bitch, because I’m only going to be this calm when I deliver this speech once. I don’t know who you think you are, and I don’t know if I care, but if you know I’m the queen around here, which congratulations on making one correct assumption, then you should know exactly what I’m about and what exactly I can do to you to make your life miserable. And you’ve already made two incorrect assumptions that are going to make you look like quite the ass. First, I can handle my drink better than you any day of the week, so while you may have been tipsy enough to shove this stick over here,” Melissa motioned towards Jackson. “into my path towards the beverages that I put on this table, I need more than that to put my feet in places where they don’t belong. Like you shoving yours in your big mouth. And second, you can put some god damn respek on my name when you say it. It’s Melissa, and you would do best to learn it if you want to do anything other than wear a mascot head at this school. And don’t think I won’t send Spike packing to make that happen! So if you want to offer me an apology, I’m all ears. Or I will be in about three minutes.”

Content with how she established Miki’s place in the pecking order, she turned to the larger Jackson. “And you! You talk to women with that mouth? Maybe you’ve been hanging around with this one,” she now motioned to Miki, “Too much, or maybe you just skipped the etiquette classes I’m sure you had over at Liberty, but guess what, beanpole? YOU AREN’T THERE ANYMORE! What the fuck did you do to make any of this happen? Fuck, what did you do to make anything happen, other than spilling my god damn drink all over the deck? I know god damn well I’m more capable than you of running a school, a bake sale, a lemonade stand and a lap, because you look fucking pathetic! Threatening a woman, what is wrong with you? If you’re looking for beggars, go check where your school stands empty, I’m sure they fucking moved in. But I don’t give a shit where you think you are, or what turf you claim to be on, you’re in my fucking universe now, and I will make damn sure you get blinked out of existence if you try and pull this kind of reverse bullshit maneuver on me! Step to that, you useless fuckstick!”

Satisfied, Melissa gave a quick flick of her hair to make sure it fell back in place following her tirade, and she turned to Dee. “Didn’t think I was going to need an escort to the booze table, Dee, but you want to head over there with me? Make sure no more pieces of trash drift into my path?”

Edenridge

Lockers. That's all she could see. Just a maze of lockers. It didn't make sense. There were doors somewhere around there right? There had to be. What good was storage space without any way to bring stuff in? But there were no doors. There was no escape.

She could hear the footsteps. They were coming for her. She kept running but there was nowhere to go. The footsteps were growing louder, surrounding her auditory field. Were they coming from in front of her now? She couldn't tell. Everything was confusing. This was school, right? What was happening?

Her shoes betrayed her, coming loose and sending her sprawling to the tile. Her hands try to catch her but they splay out, leaving her unable to spring up quickly. The footsteps are loud and ringing in her ears. She closes her eyes to shut them out before they stop. She opens them and sees two pairs of feet standing in front of her. She looks up. She can't see their faces, but they look familiar? Why? Why are they familiar? Why are they holding guns? No! No not here! Not he-

Before the bang comes, a loud knock on the door interrupts. The redhead who was certain it was her time to go bolts up in her bed, looking around in a haze.

"Jilly! If you want breakfast, you're going to have to show yourself and get it!"

That voice confirms that Jillian O'Brien's mother was the one to save her youngest child from another dream ending in death. Jillian grumbled and fell back down onto her bed. "...Whatever. I don't need any more hash browns." The grumble in her stomach contradicted that sentiment, however. Maybe some food was necessary.

It could wait though. Phone first. Phone was the primary method of communication, at least with those Jillian still wanted to communicate with. Granted it had shrunk by a wide margin since the days when she got that Samsung A51 just before senior year. She was due for an upgrade, but she knew nothing about getting phones, and then there was going to the mall and that was not where she wanted to be right now. Instead, she relied on her aging device to dash off a quick text to the one remaining person from the squad she maintained contact with.

"Hey, Miss Midnight. You awake? Dreams are assholes and I want to forget they keep happening. Could use a partner if I'm dancing this early."

Edenridge

Jillian O’Brien

Name

Jillian Aisling O'Brien

Nicknames

Jill, Jilly

Age

19

Gender

Female

Sexuality

Bi, but prefers men

Relationship Status

It’s way too complicated

Appearance Details

• Hair: Long red hair, usually worn straight down. She hasn’t had the energy to do much other than put it up in a ponytail lately.
• Eyes: Light Brown
• Height: 5’5”
• Body Type: Still fairly athletic given what she did in high school, but has shown signs of starting to slip a little bit.
• Clothing Style: Rather than dress up to the role she thought she had to play in high school, lately it’s been all about comfort for Jillian. She’ll stick to leggings and t-shirts most of the time, although she will still get dressed up when the occasion warrants it.
• Makeup Wise: Again, more about comfort now than anything, most of Jillian’s appearances are made without makeup. She’ll still put the full press on for social events, she still remembers her steps, but lately they have seemed less important. She does favor smoky eyeshadow and bright red lipstick.
• Scars, Tattoos and/or Piercings: Her ears are pierced twice in each lobe and once in her right helix. She is debating getting more. She doesn't have any tattoos yet, but has already offered her body up to Mei Ramsey as a canvas to work upon. She has a couple scars on her stomach and a deeper one behind her left ear related to the incident that sent Michael to jail.

Personality Traits

For someone who maintained such a positive attitude when she entered Edenridge, it’s been startling, yet understandable to see naught but tiny shreds of it remain. Jillian can still summon what she needs to put on a pretty face, and when in public, she does her best to be the person who can keep spirits up as she did in high school, but it’s become clear that it’s more a mask than anything else at this point.

In private, she has been left alone to mourn, to be alone with her sadness. It’s been difficult. She’s not been coping well, and her family has been trying to make inroads with little success. She’s withdrawn a lot, so she doesn’t have to wear the mask as often. Because it does not fit anymore. Not without the support she’s lost along the way. On all fronts.

Biography

CW: violence, death, domestic violence

Jillian O’Brien, of the Edenridge O’Briens as the family was usually keen to inform people before the events started happening, was born and raised in town. The youngest of five, she was always treated as the baby of the family, and she was happy to play the part most of the time, getting whatever she wanted in exchange for being her usual adorable self. She was enrolled in dance when she was going through grade school, and parlayed that into a spot on the cheerleading squad. Alison Davies was the pinnacle of everything Jillian was meant to be, and she was ready to follow that path. Until Ali was no longer there to light the way.

Jillian was crushed by the loss of an idol of Alison’s stature, but she pressed on. There were people on the team that needed her. She grew close with the other members of the squad as they pressed on in the shadow of Miss Davies’ demise. Lanie and Mei and Liv and Kat became like the sisters that hadn’t gone off to Boston College and other places that weren’t Edenridge for the moment. They helped deal with the passing of her father Shane to lung cancer in her sophomore year. It was tough, but they were able to move on. Until Charlie Decker happened.

Jillian didn’t even remember Charlie. Did they share a class at some point? They were both seniors, maybe freshman English? Anyway, she remembered his name after that. She remembered him shooting through the door of the barricaded science lab she and the rest of her Biology class were in, catching Mr. Lazovic in the shoulder and arm, and poor Matthew Carson in the head. Matthew didn’t make it out. Neither did Olivia Madden or Katherine Dunbar. Charlie got them both in the library. The last text in their group chat was about making plans for a weekend trip to Boston for some shopping ahead of senior year. Plans that never came to fruition.

Losing two of her best friends on top of her father and her role model took a lot out of Jill. It took a lot out of the squad. They all had their various breakdowns. Eventually, Jill was able to connect again, with a previous graduate of Edenridge named Michael Barrie who had come back following the tragedy to offer support. He escorted Jillian to the very subdued prom and eventually she moved into the Barrie’s house as Michael left his undergrad degree to stay in town with his new paramour.

However, Michael also had his own mask, and that was hiding the drunken lout he had a tendency to be at home. His own way of coping with the stress. Jillian joined in at first, as it seemed as good a coping method as any, but as things got serious and Jillian looked like she was going to join her fellow cheerleader in welcoming a child into the world, his drinking got worse. About 5 ½ months into the pregnancy, Jillian confronted Michael about what he was doing to himself, not wanting to lose another male presence to his own vices.

Michael responded by shoving Jillian down the stairs to the main lobby of the Barrie house. Michael’s sister Tamara heard the noise and called the cops. Michael was arrested, but the damage was done. Jillian lost her baby. Michael was sentenced to a year in prison. Jillian moved back in with her mother, who has been doing her best to comfort a life that Jillian is not certain she wants anymore. All the tragedy, the needlessly lost lives. Jillian doesn’t know what she did to deserve it. She still will come when called, she still responds to social responsibilities, but it was clear that losing baby Olivia (she wanted another to name Katherine) may have been the final straw.

Family

Shannon O’Brien - Mother - Veterinarian - FC: Amy Adams
Kathleen O’Brien - Aunt - Freelance Writer/Babysitter - FC: Isla Fisher
Heather O’Brien - Oldest Sister - VP Operations for Hudson Dynamics in Boston - FC: Bonnie Wright
Grace O’Brien - Older Sister - Artist - FC: Juliette Angelo
Kieren O’Brien - Oldest Brother - Brewery Manager for Bay State Brews in Lowell
Ronan O’Brien - Older Brother - Mechanic/Volunteer Firefighter - FC: Cameron Monaghan

Misc.

Madi Petsch | fd9100

• Lives with her mother along with Grace, as the others have moved out.
• Still drives the 2015 CR-5 she received as a graduation gift, although given her recent drinking spells, she doesn't drive often.
• Despite what Michael did to her, she still drinks regularly to deal with all the pain since she doesn’t know what else to do.
• Was planning on doing a pre-law degree at BC prior to getting involved with Michael.
• Has made appearances on Mei Ramsey's podcast under the pseudonym "Ashes", where she mimics the Irish accent of her grandmother and tries to divine traits of crimes while swearing way too much.
• Her favorite song is Royals by Lorde, but a more fitting theme song may be Lonely People by Orla Gartland.