[table][row][color=#2e2c2c][sup][h3][b]
▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅[right]▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅[/right]
[/b][/h3][/sup][/color][/row][row][cell][center][img]https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/824488408562794527/967592442486460476/unknown.png[/img][/center]
[indent][color=d3d3d3][sub]Had the booze been on her tab, Jack might not be so drunk right now, even despite her current circumstances. As it is, she’s floating through a sea of people to get to the front of PJ’s, vision significantly tunneled by the fermented poison swimming through her blood. She probably should’ve eaten before she started drinking, but sacrificing her lunch break was the only key leverage she had in ending her shift at the Bistro early. Take notes—not even familial nepotism can get you your own free time at work.

Hanna looks to be at the same level drunk-wise, maybe even a little worse, stumbling and screeching all the way to the rental. Jack guesses it’s lucky that Ivy’s got a respectable amount of cash too, though after eavesdropping on the group’s total tab she wonders if Hanna’s bank account even dips below triple digits.

Once outside and free to feel the cold air on her skin, Jack double-checks her bike and then peels into the car, pushing herself into a far corner and nursing her half-empty beer bottle. With the state of one half of their de facto chaperones, she spends the ride in weary anticipation of some impromptu group carpool activity that never comes. It’s quick enough to drive to Ritman from Main Street, anyway, and the car rolls to a stop before she can blink. It starts again after Ivy unlocks the gate, the engine finally cutting dead once the field’s opposite them.

[b][color=black]“Don’t tempt me,”[/color][/b] she mutters at Ivy’s comment, filtering out behind the rest of the group and trudging through the turnstile.

She bounces from one foot to the other throughout Ivy’s spontaneous speech, the air having shifted from soothing her flushed cheeks to chilling her bones. She’s not sure if a Class President’s responsibilities extend to playing personal therapist to a group of melodramatic teenagers, but she can imagine the existential terror raised by realizing you’re not as outwardly fucked up as the rest of the people you spent your formative years with. She’s not even sure if the faculty could’ve changed a thing, as Lucas suggests in all his therapized wisdom. There’s no cure for Delton, Jack concludes, watching as Hanna paws away at fresh tear tracks.

The floodlights looming above light the scene with perfect clarity, leaving the empty main building shrouded in complete darkness. Its black outline looks far larger than Ritman had ever felt during her time there. The capsule, even while dwarfed by the scattered circle surrounding it, casts a harsh shadow on the dyed grass. Jack allows it to capture her attention, the long huff of breath that escapes her nostrils turning into steam against the nighttime chill. Jack had left nothing in there, as if the lack of physical evidence would absolve her of any connection to Ritman High. Instead, she remains tethered by the memories of others, unable to escape Jack Carpenter just as much as Jack Wilkerson.

Maybe graduation isn’t where it was supposed to end. Maybe once everyone else finally feels like they can put their high school lives to bed, Jack can take hers out back and shoot it, too. Once the first wrecking ball slams into the faded red bricks, this weight that’s been pushing against her whole life will finally crumble, and she can get the fuck out of here forever. In another five years, Jack Wilkerson will be gone for good.

[b][color=black]“If we find secret love letters in here or some shit, I’m out,”[/color][/b] she almost-slurs, taking a triumphant final swig of her beer. She drops the empty bottle at her feet. [b][color=black]“Or we can burn ‘em.”[/color][/b][/sub][/color][/indent]
[center][img]https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/824488408562794527/967592442486460476/unknown.png[/img][/center][sup][color=#2e2c2c]▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔[/color][/sup][/cell][cell][img]https://txt.1001fonts.net/img/txt/dHRmLjI0LjAwMDAwMC5Ta0ZEU3lCWFNVeExSVkpUVDA0LjA/montserrat.regular.webp[/img][img]https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/588109950006329429/1082165710219911300/image.png[/img]
[sub][sub][center][img]https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/824488408562794527/970154698390794250/jack_gif_2.gif[/img]
[/center][/sub][/sub]
[sup][color=black][b]█  [sup]   [/sup]#1.01 WAY DOWN WE GO[/b][/color]
[url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=67C6EHUxeG4][img]https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/588109950006329429/1082586783436525618/image.png[/img][color=a9a9a9]on we march — trent reznor[/color][/url][/sup]
[indent][sup][color=d3d3d3]p. johnson’s [color=black]▸[/color] ritman high [football field]
interacting with: class of 2017[/color][/sup][/indent][center][img]https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/824488408562794527/970459343667494932/unknown.png[/img][/center][sub][color=#2e2c2c]▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔[/color][/sub][/cell][/row][/table]