[color=darkgray][center][img]https://i.imgur.com/uJ5eoQ5.png[/img] [sub]A [@NeoAJ] & [@LovelyComplex] Collaboration, Part 2 Present Time || Featuring: [color=fd9100][b]Jillian O'Brien[/b][/color] & [color=005d9e][b]Danilo Belmonte[/b][/color][/sub] [b][color=#FD9100]▃[/color][color=#F89003]▃[/color][color=#F38F06]▃[/color][color=#EE8E09]▃[/color][color=#E98D0C]▃[/color][color=#E48C0F]▃[/color][color=#DF8B12]▃[/color][color=#DA8A15]▃[/color][color=#D68918]▃[/color][color=#D1881B]▃[/color][color=#CC871E]▃[/color][color=#C78621]▃[/color][color=#C28524]▃[/color][color=#BD8427]▃[/color][color=#B8832A]▃[/color][color=#B4822D]▃[/color][color=#AF8130]▃[/color][color=#AA8033]▃[/color][color=#A57F36]▃[/color][color=#A07E39]▃[/color][color=#9B7D3C]▃[/color][color=#967C3F]▃[/color][color=#917B42]▃[/color][color=#8D7A45]▃[/color][color=#887948]▃[/color][color=#83784B]▃[/color][color=#7E774F]▃[/color][color=#797652]▃[/color][color=#747555]▃[/color][color=#6F7458]▃[/color][color=#6B735B]▃[/color][color=#66725E]▃[/color][color=#617161]▃[/color][color=#5C7064]▃[/color][color=#576F67]▃[/color][color=#526E6A]▃[/color][color=#4D6D6D]▃[/color][color=#486C70]▃[/color][color=#446B73]▃[/color][color=#3F6A76]▃[/color][color=#3A6979]▃[/color][color=#35687C]▃[/color][color=#30677F]▃[/color][color=#2B6682]▃[/color][color=#266585]▃[/color][color=#226488]▃[/color][color=#1D638B]▃[/color][color=#18628E]▃[/color][color=#136191]▃[/color][color=#0E6094]▃[/color][color=#095F97]▃[/color][color=#045E9A]▃[/color][/b][/center] [indent]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 [i]a lot[/i]. 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,  [color=005d9e]“It’s good to see you, Jillybean. Um,”[/color] He could smell the strong stench of booze coming off of her and he gave her a genuine concerned look,  [color=005d9e]“... are you sure you can handle this?”[/color] 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. [color=fd9100]“Handle this?”[/color] she slurred. [color=fd9100]“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!”[/color] Hanging out with Mei as much as she did now had clearly given Jillian some of her bravado, and her penchant for swearing. [color=fd9100]“Fucking A/V nerd here being an asshole. What the fuck even happened on July 5, 2016?”[/color] 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, [color=005d9e]“I think, I think I know those numbers.”[/color]  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. [color=fd9100]“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?!?”[/color] 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. [color=fd9100]“What the fuck happened that fucking summer?”[/color] 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.  [color=005d9e]“Would you shut up!”[/color][/indent][/color]