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Cyrus wasn’t even sure he wanted to be here. Gatling was so… somber. And it made sense to him, after all, one of their golden children had fallen — and fallen early. He and his wife came back, not because either of them wanted to… well, Cyrus could only speak for himself, but he certainly didn’t want to be back here. The reality of the situation was, a sense of dedication had dragged Cyrus back here, because he’d failed Roxy before by never coming back to visit, and he wasn’t going to fail her again by letting her [i]die[/i] and not come back to be there for the funeral.

He’d thought he would cry, and get sad about it, but between his best friend in college, and now his best friend in high school up and [i]dying[/i] before either of them even hit 30, he had to wonder if he even knew how to grieve anymore. Roxy’s death must not have hit him yet, but he was sure it was going to at the wake, where he’d have to look at her dead body, surrounded by the rest of her friends and family.

To be frank, he wished they were still in New York, New York — the city so nice they named it twice — and not back in this backwaters town, but… here they were. Staring out the hotel window, at a town he used to know like the back of his hand, and drinking a mix of club soda and crushed up Excedrin. What? He’d had too much to drink on the flight over.

[color=ff901e]“Di, are you ready for this?”[/color] He called out, glancing over his shoulder at his wife.

Sitting in front of the hotel room’s vanity facing the glass window, Diana Kingsley was adding the finishing touches to her makeup. Ever since the news of Roxanne’s passing, the iron-hearted woman had been nothing short of a mess. This had been her biggest loss to hit her since the death of her grandparents years previously. But when you lose a friend so suddenly and with no warning, no amount of previous experience with grief could ever prepare you for the excruciating pain and the guilt trying to swallow you whole.

At her husband’s question, Diana took in a deep breath. She gave herself one last once-over before turning to address Cyrus. [color=98FB98]“As ready as I’ll ever be...”[/color] the woman replied earnestly, sliding on her Dior sunglasses to shield her red-rimmed eyes away from sight and rising from her seat.

When Cyrus broke the news, Di didn’t believe him at first. She’d spoken to Roxy just a week previously: both women excitedly gushing about their upcoming yearly girl’s trip.  But when Jack Palminteri confirmed her best friend’s passing, the blonde had collapsed into her husband’s arms, sobbing loudly. The pills eventually helped dull the pain somewhat, but there was never a cure for the missing piece of her heart.

[color=ff901e]“Yeah,”[/color] Cyrus said, watching as she rose from her seat. He knew what she meant; it had hit him hard when Kieran had died, but that was… different than this. That had been like watching his present die, and this was like watching the remnants of his past crumble off. It was over, and he wasn’t sure he’d ever come back to this town after this. [color=ff901e]“It’ll be fine. It’ll be good, to see everyone again, don’t you think? It’s what she would have wanted.”[/color] Cyrus put a hand on Diana’s shoulder and gave her a thin smile. It was his best attempt at being ‘cheerful.’

Diana nodded, placing her own hand on top of his and resting her cheek against it for a moment. As much as she appreciated Cyrus’ intentions, they unfortunately didn’t do much to prepare the woman for what they were about to face. Roxy’s funeral was half of her worry. There was a reason as to why Di hadn’t set foot in Gatling for ten years, choosing instead to meet Roxy in all different parts of the country or even the world. Said reason still resided in her former hometown: one of Gatling’s favorite golden boys, who would undoubtedly be present at this somber event. And in all honesty? Diana wasn’t sure if she had the will to face him just yet.

[color=98FB98]“He’s going to be there too, you know?”[/color] she told her husband in barely more than a whisper, afraid that saying his name aloud would send her down another crying episode.

[color=ff901e]“Yes, I know.”[/color] Cyrus said, though he couldn’t think of anything to do to comfort her. Eventually, she’d have to face her past — just like he was going to do. It was just the reality of the situation, and he didn’t know what to do other than to encourage her. [color=ff901e]“You’ll have to face it eventually, you know. And I’ll be there. It won’t be so bad.”[/color] It was a weird situation for him; he knew his wife loved someone else, but he just… he just didn’t care. He was numb to it, but he still wanted to help her, at least as much as he can.

[color=ff901e]“Don’t worry about it yet. This is for Roxy. After this… we’ll deal with the other stuff, alright?”[/color]

Di merely nodded again, turning around to face Cyrus and wrapping her arms around him. [color=98FB98]“Okay,”[/color] she said softly, planting a gentle kiss on her husband’s cheek. [color=98FB98]“I’m ready when you are.”[/color]

[color=ff901e]“We can head out soon. I’ll be honest, I’m not ready. I thought I’d be more upset. I’m not upset. I thought I’d be more… emotional. I’m not. The thing I’m not ready for? I don’t want to have to talk to people I haven’t seen in ten years. I haven’t come back here for a reason, and I don’t think any of them are honestly going to know who I am.”[/color] Cyrus wasn’t ready for that — there really was something wrong with him, wasn’t there? The impending awkwardness and introductions, and the somber feel… he wasn’t sure he could handle it. He took another drink from the glass. [color=ff901e]“I’m not ready to be… judged.”[/color]

Cyrus’ words definitely resonated with Diana. She’d left without looking back and without so much as a goodbye: opting to bluntly cut all ties that could remind her of Gatling and its people. In small towns like that, people often liked to talk about things they didn’t quite know about; the judgement would come regardless of whether they had been around more or not. But if something was for certain, it was that they wouldn’t face things alone.

[color=98FB98]“Tell me about it…”[/color] the blonde replied, a sad smile on her face. [color=98FB98]“With the amount of stories the tabloids have fabricated about us, I wouldn’t be surprised they think we’re members of some cult that keep their wealth by making weird rituals or something like that...”[/color] Di said with a laugh, shaking her head. [color=98FB98]“But no matter what happens, we’re in this together, okay? You don’t have to talk to anybody you don’t want to, and I’ll take care of anyone who dares to judge.  I’ve got your back no matter what, Cy. Always.”[/color]

[color=ff901e]“What, you weren’t there for the last ritual? It was a blast. We sacrificed a virgin.”[/color] Cyrus said, before he kissed the laughing Diana on the lips and nodded his agreement. She was right. They were a team, and a unit — they might not have been perfect romantically; they definitely [i]weren’t[/i] — but there was something there. A cohesiveness. A feeling of being in a unit, that both individuals needed. They weren’t perfect, but no one in this world was.

Especially not in this fucked up town. In fact, Cyrus would have put money on most people in this place being as fucked up as the town was. Being bullied when he was younger had soured his opinion of this town, even with Roxy and the others befriending him later in his high school career. [color=ff901e]“Can we agree on one thing? We get in and we get out. Fast. Home is calling my name.”[/color]

Diana vehemently nodded. [color=98FB98]"Deal. The heat in this town is already making my skin as leathery as these people's tacky cowboy accessories,"[/color] she replied, face scrunching up with distaste as if ten years ago she wasn't proudly wearing Dusty's cowboy hat at every chance she could.

[color=ff901e]“Hm.”[/color] Was Cyrus’s only response, not wanting to head down the road of Dusty. He didn’t want to deal with the conversation, or the fallout that would follow. Quite frankly, he just wanted to get this whole trip over with, and go home. He wasn’t even sure about the wake, but he was going to do for his friend — he owed her that much, even if he didn’t honor her request to come and visit once a year.

Cyrus stepped away from Diana and gestured for her to follow. He grabbed his jacket off of the bed and put it on. [color=ff901e]“We should get going. They’re probably waiting for us.”[/color]

Nodding solemnly, his wife followed suit. She gave herself one last look in the mirror, grabbed her Prada bag from the bed, took her husband’s arm and left the room.

Once they arrived at the bar, it didn’t take Cyrus long to pick out their group; after he’d gotten hit by the rush of nostalgia that came from walking into the building… the familiar faces, and even the familiar smells. He made a beeline for their group, with Diana in tow, and when he arrived, he looked around at the three at the bar. [color=ff901e]“Hey, guys. I wish we were getting back together for something… better, but… it’s still good to see you.”[/color]

Meanwhile, Diana said nothing, opting to keep a tight, shaky grip on her husband’s arm. The blonde woman kept her stare fixated on the worn-out hardwood floor, afraid of what would happen if her blue eyes found the face of the one who got away.[/color][/indent][/indent]