[img]https://i.postimg.cc/L4VHNwhP/Header.jpg[/img][hr] [indent][color=808080]Putting the bottle of Mike’s Hard Lemonade with strawberry in it down, he positioned himself up against the tree, and he began to tune his guitar. Gently stringing the cords as he made sure they all lined up with the song that he wanted to play — [i]E A D G B E[/i]. As he plucked the cords a few times to get the proper sound, he was ready to play, and he began to hum the tune while closing his eyes. A habit of remembering exactly how the song goes and the lyrics. Hitting the cord [i]Am[/i] with a pause before hitting a second cord, [i]F[/i]. With memory and precision, he began to play the intro cords before adding the lyrics. ‘[color=8A9A5B]There was a time, I used to look into my father’s eyes, In a happy home, I was a king, I had a golden throne, Those days are gone, now the memories are on the wall, I hear the songs from the places where I was born,[/color]’ throughout the intro, he was hitting the cords [i]Am, G, and F.[/i] And he continued hitting these cords while moving into the chorus. ‘[color=8A9A5B]Don’t you worry, don’t you worry child, See heaven’s got a plan for you, Yeah~ Don’t you worry, don’t you worry child, See heaven’s got a plan for you, Don’t you worry, don’t you worry now,[/color]’ He continued to hit those same notes on beat. His eyes opened so he could look around and focus on what was happening at the party. Anatoliy was trying to figure out if he wanted to join in on all the festivities or not. It was a difficult situation even though he knew it shouldn’t be. And he took a deep breath as he continued to play. ‘[color=8A9A5B]There was a time, I met a girl of a different kind, We ruled the world, I thought i’ll never lose her out of sight, We were so young, I think of her now and then, I still hear the song reminding me of a friend,[/color]’ he took a breath and closed his eyes again. Anatoliy was using his hands to make sound effects with the music, tapping his guitar, and other things in a fashion that brought his baritone voice and the strings of the guitar together. ‘[color=8A9A5B]Up on a hill, across the blue lake, That’s where I had my first heartbreak, I still remember how it all changed, My father said,[/color]’ a longer pause followed these lyrics as if he was truly thinking about his father. He was. ‘[color=8A9A5B]Don’t you worry, don’t you worry child, See heaven’s got a plan for you, Don’t you worry, don’t you worry child…[/color]’ A faint smile was on his face as he was playing this song because he honestly loved the songs from the early to mid-2000s. They were great vibes even though he felt like no one listened to them much anymore. Everything was rap or club music to an extent. However, he knew how to play most on acoustic. Anissa idly swirled the liquid in her glass – cranberry juice mixed with fizzy club soda and a slice of lime, deliberately avoiding anything alcoholic. The bar was already humming with life, and a few others had already claimed their spaces along the counter or drifted in and out, including someone in a striking emerald-green dress who had just slipped in near the edge, moving with an air of someone who hadn’t intended to be late but absolutely had been. Not that Anissa could judge her for that. She’d done the same, albeit for far more selfish reasons. Though truthfully, she’d needed the extra time to…breathe. To recalibrate her mind as close as possible to what it had been since there was no way that she would have two good conversations in a row with someone who did not regard her as broken for not knowing who her father was, and weird because she was, well, [i]her[/i]. …Right? Anissa remained there for a few more minutes before finally giving in, moving away and towards her intended target. A quick scan of the crowd revealed his silhouette still by the oak tree where darkness bled into frost. It wasn’t until she got closer that she realized he wasn’t just standing there anymore; he was sitting with a guitar in his hand, playing it. She slowed her pace enough that by the time she reached the outer edge of his space, the last notes were still fading in the air. She hesitated, then took a breath and stepped fully into view. [color=5a3e85]“Hi again,”[/color] she offered, her voice lacking its usual confidence, sounding almost shy, a tone that felt foreign even to her own ears. A small smile touched her lips as her eyes darted towards the instrument resting against him, then quickly lifted back to meet his gaze. [color=5a3e85]“Didn’t know you played.”[/color] Which, in retrospect, once the words had left her mouth, was a stupid thing to say. She didn’t really know him at all. He sat there against the oak tree and looked at her when she got closer and began to talk — [color=8A9A5B]the girl with no name[/color] — and he instantly felt stupid. The few cords that he struck sounded awkward and faint before they faded. He stopped playing the guitar. His mind didn’t know if he should respond with sarcasm, sass, or be open-minded. She walked away from him early so why was she walking up to him now? He was naturally suspicious because of the lifelong trauma of negative interactions he had with people. ‘[color=8A9A5B]When you walk away from someone, you usually don’t get to know anything more about them,[/color]’ he quietly replied while looking up at her eyes before his eyes fell to the ground. It was as if he was trying to distance himself and get comfortable instead of feeling like he was right there in front of her. Anatoliy still didn’t know what he did early to make her walk away but he was already 0 - 2 for the night. Two people have walked away from him without him fully understanding how he messed up. He knew she didn’t know that a second person walked away from him already but it was still internally embarrassing. [color=5a3e85]“Yeah, well.”[/color] Anissa shifted her weight restlessly from one foot to the other, a physical manifestation of the discomfort coiling within her. Her fingers tightened almost painfully around the surface of her glass, and even through her gloves, she could feel the slick condensation it left behind.[color=5a3e85]“I tend to walk away from a lot of things.”[/color] People, she didn't say. [color=5a3e85]“Doesn't mean I don't circle back.”[/color] It was a weak reassurance, offered more to herself than to him, acknowledging a pattern within her without promising consistent change. And with that understanding of herself, Anissa couldn’t blame him for his response. His words were…true. Fair. She’d done exactly as he’d stated: walked away without explanation. Maybe she’d thought he wouldn’t care. Maybe part of her hadn’t wanted to care either. Regardless, she hadn’t come over here to defend herself, mainly because she found that she couldn’t. [color=5a3e85]“For what it’s worth…”[/color] the girl began, forcing herself to meet his gaze. [color=5a3e85]“I didn’t walk away because of you. So, I’m sorry if it seemed that way or if I hurt you.”[/color] The apology was simple, direct, and surprisingly difficult to voice. It acknowledged the potential impact of her actions, such as the perception she might have created and the hurt he might have felt, without sugarcoating her responsibility for creating the situation in the first place. Anissa glanced down at her drink again, suddenly finding the bubbles fizzing along the rim fascinating. [color=5a3e85]“Look, I’m not…great at this,”[/color] she admitted, a faint blush of frustration creeping up her neck. [color=5a3e85]“But I want to make it up to you somehow. I just…I don’t know what that looks like.”[/color] The apology didn’t make him feel better but it made him look up. It made him feel like he was getting pity. A part of him wanted to snap when she went on to explain how she wasn’t good at conversation. She sounded pretty good at it a few minutes ago when she and that one guy were discussing sunrises, anything coconut, rain, and lemon pastries. [i][color=8A9A5B]Stop with the pathetic excuses,[/color][/i] the harsh thoughts clouded his mind. He had heard so many people, especially girls lie through their teeth — I’m not good at this, I didn’t mean to, sorry, etc… etc… etc… Anatoliy wished he could disappear into the trunk of the tree that he was sitting against, ‘[color=8A9A5B]It really isn’t worth anything,[/color]’ he whispered those words under his breath. Then he spoke louder, ‘[color=8A9A5B]You don’t have to be nice to me. You know that right?[/color]’ he stood up, he was tall compared to Anissa, but he didn’t look down at her. He wouldn’t make eye contact and it was because he wanted to disappear and that was a way he could disappear. He wasn’t comfortable at all and he didn’t understand why she was apologizing either. It didn’t make sense to him even though she gave him an explanation. [color=8A9A5B][i]She’s just being nice[/i][/color]’ he thought and those thoughts were trying to encourage him to be nicer, but he didn’t want to be nice just because someone else might be pretending to. He wasn’t sure if she was just being nice out of pity or not, it was hard to tell, but his mind was so twisted from the past that he knew it was skewed at times. Anissa held her ground as he rose to his full height, refusing to visibly recoil even as her shoulders locked in a subtle rigidity. [color=5a3e85] “Nice?”[/color] she repeated dumbly, her gaze lifting to follow the line of his averted profile as he refused to meet her eyes. Her jawline twitched, betraying the frustration simmering beneath her calm exterior. His avoidance felt like a physical dismissal, the simplicity of his response stinging far more than outright anger would have. She should walk away. Shouldn't pry. That’s what her instincts were telling her now, as they always did. She knew better than to pick at wounds, even when they were bleeding all over someone else's sleeves. Then he sighed and glanced at her, ‘[color=8A9A5B]I’m sorry,[/color]’ he started off but he paused and looked away again. He was thinking out what he should truly say. ‘[color=8A9A5B]I’m sorry for not being very great in our first interaction but you don’t have to make it up to me at all. You don’t owe me anything.[/color]’ He didn’t like the feeling inside of his chest. It made him feel guilty. He didn’t like people owing him things and he didn’t like owing other people anything. It was an unwritten and non-vocal contact that he hated. It was being indebted for some reason… some emotional reason and emotions [i]always[/i] led you astray. His stormy blue eyes wandered over to Anissa to notice how awkward she looked as well. Anatoliy’s words hooked her before she could drift too far. Not because they fixed anything, but because they sounded like they cost him something to say. And when he went on, her expression didn’t change, at least not right away. But something in her jaw eased, and the instinct to bolt, so loud moments before, quieted just a decibel. [color=5a3e85]“I know I don’t owe you, but I still feel like…”[/color] Anissa replied, her voice trailing until pausing briefly to think about what [i]exactly[/i] had stood out during their interaction. Then, she stuck out her hand, smiling awkwardly. [color=5a3e85]“...like I should have at least given you my name. It’s Anissa. Anissa Quinn. Daughter of…Adrianna Elise Quinn.”[/color] Though internally she knew it wasn’t the same, it was easier to pretend, if only for this moment, that her mortal mother was the only parent that mattered. His eyes flicked over to her when she introduced herself and the name clearly by her mortal parent. ‘[color=8A9A5B]The only parent that I really know is my dad, Ivan Voronin,[/color]’ he tried to be comparable in a way and he really didn’t want to bring up how his father died when he was seventeen. He knew he stated his parent was Artemis but he wasn’t sure if that was the issue with their interaction early — he was not going to bring that up unless asked from now on either. ‘[color=8A9A5B]It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss Anissa Quinn,[/color]’ he added on with simplicity as his eyes locked onto her darker ones. ‘[color=8A9A5B]And da,[/color]’ he mildly replied. ‘[color=8A9A5B]Nice.[/color]’ he emphasized his words. ‘[color=8A9A5B]You didn’t seem very interested earlier and maybe that was a lot of my fault, but I’ve already had two people walk away from me today for reasons I still don’t understand, so I don’t understand why you are interested in being nice to me now. Be that pity or guilt. I don’t care about either. Maybe go back to the guy you were having fun with. Talking about sunshine and lemon pastries,[/color]’ Anatoliy began to walk away. Anissa's outstretched hand hung suspended in the unnaturally warm air, a futile gesture of connection that felt suddenly foolish of her to try. Because Anatoliy was right about one thing: she wasn’t a “nice” person. Not in any truly meaningful way. Nice girls didn’t lie to their mothers about the strange bruises blooming on their arms or sneaking off to faraway camps without a proper goodbye. They didn’t disappear during group projects or shudder when someone brushed past them in a hallway. Nice girls didn’t ghost their friends after blacking out in a bathroom stall with voices whispering in their ears, or wake up in graveyards with dirt under their fingernails and no memory of how they got there. And nice girls definitely didn’t hurt people just by touching them, whether they meant to or not. So, Anissa Quinn wasn’t “nice.” She was [i]careful[/i]. She was contained. And for once, earlier, just briefly, she’d let herself believe she didn’t have to be. Much like she’d done to others, she’d lied to herself, unintentionally or not. Seconds stretched painfully before her arm dropped limply to her side, and she remained utterly still, watching the rigid line of Anatoliy’s retreating back. Her paralysis wasn’t born from a lack of response, though. Gods no. Her mind churned violently, a chaotic storm of retorts, justifications, and defences rising like acid in her throat, thick enough to choke her as she refused to let any of it out. That seductive urge to simply turn away surged powerfully once more: let him choke on his bitter assumptions of her character, let him paint her as that shallow caricature of the careless flirty schoolgirl making pity rounds just to feel a fleeting moment of desired attention. It would be easy. It was her oldest reflex. But something about the way he said [i]lemon pastries[/i]...the venom behind it. The way it reduced everything that had been said between River and her to a joke. It flipped a switch. [color=5a3e85]“That wasn’t fair,”[/color] Anissa said, not even bothering to raise her voice. She knew he could hear her now anyway. [color=5a3e85]“You don’t get to eavesdrop on a private conversation like some kind of [i]vole[/i] and then use it against me like that. I came over because I felt bad. Because I thought maybe [i]I[/i] was the one who misread things earlier and hadn’t acted right. But you know what?”[/color] Her mouth twisted into something resembling a snarl. [color=5a3e85]“You don’t have to like me. You don’t even have to believe me. But don’t pretend you know anything about me and what I want or feel just because I laughed at someone else’s fucking joke. You don’t get to judge me when I [i]didn’t[/i] judge you.”[/color] He could smell the stress coming from her which honestly made him feel bad but he wasn’t going to get on his knees and beg for forgiveness at this point. Taking a few more steps away, he stopped, and he got eerily quiet and still. It wasn’t human like… it was more like an animal. ‘[color=8A9A5B]It wasn’t a private conversation when you were having it in a public space, right outside of a party, and right by me,[/color]’ he huffed out those words before turning and facing her. His eyes were sharp and focused on her. Anatoliy approached her, ‘[color=8A9A5B]And wouldn’t you refer to me as a rat? You didn’t know what a fucking vole was because [i]all[/i] rodents probably look like the same god damn thing to you,[/color]’ he hissed out those words with a threatening tone. Aggression. ‘[color=8A9A5B]Don’t call me a vole when you are the one being a snake,[/color]’ he got close to her. Right in front of her with barely any space in between them. ‘[color=8A9A5B]I don’t know you at all. I wasn’t assuming anything. I was just saying what I have witnessed and you couldn’t keep your actual demeanor hidden for more than five minutes. And I don’t care if you laugh at other people’s jokes. I don’t fucking know you and at this rate, I rather not know anything about you,[/color]’ Anatoliy’s words were harsh but he truly didn’t want to know who she was [i]at all[/i]. She literally came over and was surprised he played guitar like she gave him more than a handful of minutes to talk about himself earlier before walking away. He leaned over and deeply inhaled right by the side of her face before straightening back up, ‘[color=8A9A5B]And I won’t pretend I know anything about you but you know what? You’ll give all that away by how you smell,[/color]’ Anatoliy snapped those words out of him. ‘[color=8A9A5B]So leave me alone and go bother someone else and stop acting like you are a saving grace that didn’t judge me at all. Your face doesn’t lie. You should have been looking in a fucking mirror when I introduced you to Ip, and you know what? Ip is a very lovely vole, so [b]I am glad I am more like a vole than a fucking human like you![/b][/color]’ Those words were shouted at her. His face was so heated, his whole body felt hot, and tears started to roll down his cheeks. Anatoliy turned away and began walking away. He wasn’t walking towards the party. He was heading back to his cabin — wishing that Rocco [i]never[/i] woke him up, so he didn’t have to experience this. His one hand came up to rub at his eyes as he totally forgot about the mascara and eyeliner he was wearing and it smeared on his face. Making him look dirty. Though he couldn’t find that he really cared at the moment, his throat was itchy and aching, his eyes stung, and he wanted to scream. He was so upset and distracted by his own mind, his head was beginning to throb from a tension headache, and he completely forgot that he left his guitar by the tree. Anissa didn’t move when he shouted. She did not move when he stormed off. She simply stood there, frozen, her glass still clutched in one gloved hand, the other limp at her side. Her pulse slammed against her ribs, and her breath felt too loud in her throat, like it didn’t belong to her at all. The air still held the shape of his voice, his anger, but more than that, [i]his nearness[/i]. The way he’d leaned in. The way he’d breathed her in like a predator memorizing something. Her scent. That was the detail that clung to her the most, sticky and cold. Not the insults or the cruel name he’d flung at her but the shocking, unwelcome intimacy of that single sniff. Uninvited. Deeply unnerving. A primal violation registered far deeper than mere words. Eventually, feeling returned to Anissa’s legs with a pins-and-needles rush, unlocking her frozen stance. Yet, rather than move towards the party, she pivoted, her steps carrying her towards the dark embrace of a few nearby trees. The shadows met her halfway. As always, they offered no demands for explanations, no expectation of apologies. They simply detached themselves from the tangled undergrowth and stretched towards her in a silent, understanding welcome. Anissa didn’t force them; she rarely commanded this retreat. She simply… stepped sideways from the tangible world and allowed her physical outline to soften and blur, her racing heartbeat to slow to a thick, sluggish rhythm. Her form shimmered, becoming insubstantial and ghostly, tucking itself seamlessly between thick tree branches and pools of profound darkness. And for a fleeting second, the ambient warmth of the forest night recoiled while a chill pulsed lightly outward from her hidden form, causing a bead of dew on a low-hanging leaf to instantly crystallize into frost. She held that faded state for perhaps sixty seconds or so. Long enough for her panic to dull. Long enough to draw one deep, shuddering breath that didn’t feel like broken glass dragging along the inside of her chest. And then, the dam cracked. Anissa buried her face in her hands, shoulders hunching, and a single, choked sob ripped itself from her throat. It escaped like pressurized steam bursting through a pipe, muffled, violent, and scalding. It was, however, the only release she permitted herself. Any longer and the clinging shadows might start leaching precious fragments of memory, the price for their comforting oblivion. Instantly, she stepped back out. The shadows slid off her vanishing form like layers of discarded, silken skin, abandoning her to visibility and solid weight once more. The cool night air brushed the side of her face, exactly where his breath had hit her skin moments before. Revulsion surged. She scrubbed roughly at her cheek with her glove, as if she could scour away the phantom sensation of his breath and the humiliating sting of having tried to be decent and utterly [i]failing[/i]. Anissa kept her head turned away from the other partygoers as she returned to the light, her eyes making out the guitar Anatoliy had left behind like an afterthought. She approached it slowly and crouched beside it, her fingers hesitating just above its neck as the strings caught the light with a metallic glint. And for a moment, she just stared. Because she didn’t know if picking it up would be kind or cruel.[/color][/indent][hr] Location: Near the outskirts of the party Interactions: Collab between Anatoliy ([@The Savant]) and Anissa (Me) Mentions: Rosalia, River, Sloane, Others at the bar in passing.