[h1][right][img]https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/588109950006329429/604805284208050189/freya_header.png[/img][/right][/h1][table][row][/row][row][cell][img]https://i.imgur.com/JPWSTQe.gif[/img][color=2e2c2c]━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━[/color][/cell][cell][center][color=2e2c2c]━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━[/color]

	

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[color=dcdcdc][b][color=a9a9a9][i]W[/i] a y  D o w n  W e  G o ,  P a r t  I[/color][/b]
[b][color=a9a9a9]location:[/color][/b] Ocean's Edge Hotel → P. Johnson's
[b][color=a9a9a9]interacting with:[/color][/b] Sebastian [i]([@Lionhearted])[/i], Sara [i]([@banjoanjo])[/i], Meir [i]([@Severance])[/i]
[b][color=a9a9a9]◂◂  II ▸▸[/color][/b]  [url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-FF22uM3Ai4][color=dcdcdc]I'm Coming Home Today — The Dig[sup]§[/sup][/color][/url][/color][/sup][/center][/cell][/row][/table][indent][color=dcdcdc]From the balcony of her hotel room, Freya could see the horizon stretching into a blinding foreverness. The morning breeze lapped at her skin and tousled her hair, leaving in its wake the briny smell of the sea and vague memories of late night bonfires, lots of beer, and partying. Besides the rhythmic crashing of waves against the shore and the occasional bird cawing as it swooped into the sands for crumbs, there was a blanket of silence that enveloped the hotel. It was calming, almost enough to offset the stress piling up at the thought of the day's activities. [color=a9a9a9][i]But not quite,[/i][/color] she thought as she looked at her phone.

Five missed calls from mom. One email from her client, one from her boss. A facebook post from Jack.

Freya took a sip of her silver needle tea and glanced at the notifications that greeted her, already drafting responses in her head. Her mom would be saved for last – although [i]never[/i] would be more ideal. She had learned the hard way that dealing with her mother so early in the day only led to a migraine that would need nursing until sunset. It was the last thing she needed.

Work, on the other hand, was easy. Freya replied to her client, a couple with a newly opened boutique looking to establish their brand and develop their online presence, without having to spare much effort. They were sweet in that uniquely Delton way that practically drenched her in a wave of nostalgia when she first met with them. It was something she hadn't realized she missed after living in brusque New York City for so long. Their email, filled with gushing commendations and multiple proclamations of wanting to work with her again, was essentially an informal 5-star review.

To her boss, she'd simply emailed, [color=a9a9a9]"Done. Rescheduled this week's brainstorming session and everything else I had for when I get back."[/color]

[img]https://i.imgur.com/ozkBj8C.gif[/img]

Her phone buzzed with three more messages from mommy dearest just as the email sent, the paranoia lacing her texts impossibly palpable. Freya had been careful not to mention her week-long "business trip" to her former hometown, fully aware that her mom would yet again blow things out of proportion. Delton continued to be a sore spot for her mom; apparently so deeply damaging to her psyche that she would sooner give up half her estates than set foot back there. After they left so suddenly all those years ago, they never spoke about Ritman or Delton or anyone from there. Not about her friends, their neighbors. Not even about her father, still locked away in prison somewhere. 

That it remained such a mystery to her was what compelled her to finally return… well, that and the quiet, nagging regret that still lingered in the corner of her mind, of course. When she heard they had someone signing all the way from Maine, she immediately volunteered and passed up her usual high-profile clientele. It was the justification she needed; one she couldn't back out from if she happened to get cold feet, as she had many times before.

Freya took another sip of her tea, a long centering breath, then swiped up and away from the messages. No dealing with mom today.

[b][color=a9a9a9]"Can't wait to see what's inside ;)"[/color][/b] she replied to Jack instead. Her little reunion had been a happy coincidence – [i]kismet[/i], the silly, quixotic part of her would whisper, as though the fates or god or whatever higher being is up there actually cared enough about her feelings to orchestrate all these events to coincide.

[right]⇢ ⇢ ⇢[/right]

Their former chauffeur had offered to take her around when he'd heard she was coming for a visit. Once upon a time, Lloyd made car rides and road trips with her parents bearable; she had come to associate him with Altoids and warmth and doting stories about his newborn grandchild. When they met again in a nearby café a few days ago, he greeted her with a welcoming hug and a fond "look how much you've grown" and she worried she would have burst into a blubbering mess of tears right then and there. 

Lloyd had been taking her around town for the past few days, to places that were familiar but changed – except her old house, she wasn't ready for that, she decided – and happily updated her on the recent goings-on. Ritman was getting demolished, he'd mentioned sadly yesterday, and she told him that was partly why she was here for a visit.

Today, he drove her by an old bookstore she frequented whenever she wanted to be alone, surprisingly still in business. Lloyd had always known to look for her there, and it touched her that he still remembered. More than once, she wondered what would have happened if they stayed. In spite of all the trouble with rumors and her not so great reputation, she had managed to find a handful of people she could honestly, openly, talk to—no BS, no pretending. Perhaps she could have found even more. Perhaps she would have lost them too.
 
Freya didn't think it was wise to get all sentimental before meeting up with her old classmates, so she saved a visit to the bookstore another day and asked Lloyd to drop her off at P. Johnson's instead. Might as well get it over with. She scheduled dinner and desserts with Lloyd for the day after as well, knowing full well she would have to rely on his calming presence if the reunion turns out exactly how she imagined it would be.

The drive to the bar was quicker than she'd anticipated, barely enough time to prepare herself – although she wasn't exactly sure [i]what[/i] she was preparing for, or even [i]why[/i] she had to. It just felt like something she should be ready for, like a conference call with the board or a big presentation with the clients where she has to be in full control. No room for mishaps or mistakes or awkward silences. Freya stalled in her seat for just a moment to compose herself. Another long, centering breath did the trick, and as she stepped out of the car and waved goodbye to Lloyd, all of her nerves washed away.


[right]⇢ ⇢ ⇢[/right]

Inside, Sebastian was the first one she noticed, his face and stature all too familiar even after all these years. All at once she was stricken with affection, wistfulness, and guilt. He was tending the bar, which was rather surprising to Freya. Bartender in Delton would have been the last identifier she'd pick for him; NFL superstar and beyond had seemed more apt back then. It was difficult not to wonder what happened after high school then, to him and everyone else she knew. Did he leave and come back, did he never leave at all? They drifted apart even before she left; perhaps something had already happened then.

At the bar were two other familiar Ritman alum, although it took a bit longer to place who they were. Zhou was the only name her mind could supply at the moment; not part of the group she usually hung out with, but one of their targets. One of the smart ones. The other guy she also knew – another target of her so-called friends – but his name escaped her. He's changed a lot, Freya speculated. Her memory of him was conflicting with what she saw now.

Instead of trying to prod her memory further for names, she decided to wait for introductions, or reintroductions, to come up organically. Freya joined the two at the bar and ordered a drink before anything else.

[b][color=a9a9a9]"Hey, Sebastian,"[/color][/b] she greeted, smiling with genuine fondness -- and only the barest hint of something sadder -- as she got a better look at him. Whatever happened after high school, he still seemed like the Sebastian she knew back then. Sweet, reserved, completely unlike the rest of the people she had been surrounded by. She hoped the years had been kind to him. [b][color=a9a9a9]"Can I get an Old Fashioned?"[/color][/b]

Then as she waited for her drink, she turned to the two, waving casually in greeting. [b][color=a9a9a9]"Have you guys seen Jack?"[/color][/b]

[/color][/indent]