[IC] Recollections: Where the Folds Meet

[Evil Ghost Note]

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Coming soon...

[Evil Ghost Note]

Before the crack. Before the shift, before anyone looked down, Cornell is quiet. Not peaceful — just paused. Something lies beneath it.

Not sleeping.

Waiting.

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September 7th. Labor Day. 10:02 PM. The day of the tear.

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“... Try not to be in your head the whole time for once?”

Elsa grins, bumping Kari’s shoulder, teasing her like she’s pulling her out of a book she isn’t even holding.

Kari exhales through her nose, pretending to be offended, while she rolls her eyes.

“I’m always present.”

“Uh-huh,” Elsa responds. “Sure you are.”

Gravel crunches under their shoes as they step off the cracked road toward the warehouse. The old rail lines run beside them like exposed bones, half-swallowed by weeds and dirt. Ahead, the brick building stands heavy and square against the night sky, its windows glowing warm gold under the moon. Music spills out in all directions, bass thick enough to feel in the ribs. Laughter rises and breaks like waves against concrete.

Kari adjusts the strap of her crossbody bag and touches the woven bracelet on her wrist absentmindedly. She tells herself this is normal - just a party. Just noise. Just high school pretending to be invincible. As they approach, the building seems alive. A single light hums faintly over the steel door, moths circling in frantic loops.

Someone stumbles out laughing, and heat hits them - sweat, perfume, cheap liquor, summer air charged with adrenaline.

Inside, the warehouse transforms.

Extension cords snake across the floor, powering mismatched lights that flash red and violet against brick walls layered with graffiti. A speaker stack rattles near a column wrapped in caution tape. Someone is hyping up a dance circle from a folding table. The bass vibrates through exposed beams and into bone.

Elsa grabs Kari’s hand and pulls her into the crowd.

Bodies everywhere - motion, noise, energy. Kari slips into it carefully, dodging elbows, sidestepping spilled drinks, smiling automatically at familiar faces. She reads them instinctively who’s nervous, who’s trying too hard, who’s pretending they don’t care.

Threads hum faintly in her awareness — excitement, relief, the desperate need for something beyond school. Beyond tension. Beyond whispers no one wants to name.

“...Kari, mami!”

The voice cuts clean through the bass — bright, sharp, impossible to ignore.

“¡Por fin! You showed up!”

Lupe Sánchez is half-standing on a folding chair near the makeshift bar, with one sneaker on the seat and the other on the table, striking a mid–victory pose. She raises a red plastic cup dramatically in one hand, with a neon-pink bandana tied around her wrist.

She looks vibrant even without trying — her curls bounce, her grin is wide and reckless, and her eyes sparkle as if she swallowed the strobe lights. A few people are already laughing at her theatrics. Someone attempts to steady the chair, but she completely ignores them.

"I want to make this a night to fuckin' remember!" Lupe shouts, "Because I make every night a night to remember!"

Cheers erupt around her.

She hops down without missing a beat — lands light, balanced, already moving to the rhythm like the bass is wired into her spine. Her body finds the tempo instinctively, shoulders rolling once, hips shifting, energy coiling and snapping loose in perfect sync with the song.

Then she spots Kari properly.

Her grin shifts, softer for half a second. Real.

“And there she is,” Lupe says, pushing through the crowd with effortless confidence, “Thought you were gonna ghost us and go journal about the vibes or something.”

Elsa snorts beside Kari, bumping her with her elbow. “See? It’s not just me.” Who merely rolls her eyes again.

Lupe reaches them and hooks an arm loosely around Kari’s shoulders, warm and buzzing with movement.

“You’re late,” she declares, mock stern — then immediately breaks into a laugh. “But I forgive you, mami. I’m in a generous mood.”

Her eyes gleam — mischief, challenge, something sharper buried deep where no one looks too long.

“C’mon,” she says, already tugging Kari toward the dance circle. “Before someone plays a sad song and ruins the vibe, y'know!”

The crowd around them grows larger.

Someone shouts Lupe’s name. Someone else tries to drag her toward the speakers. The bass tempo shifts, and she reacts instantly, weight adjusting, grin widening like she’s daring the night to keep up.

For a moment, it feels like the room is bending around her.

Orbit correcting.

And Kari realizes there’s no slipping through unnoticed now.

The circle parts.

The music builds.

And Lupe is already moving.

[NoriWasHere]

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Current day
Interactions: No one
Outfit: Normal

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Street lights passed by one after the other.

Lynn pressed her forehead into the window of her Grandmother’s car. She watched as the scenery changed around them as they traveled down the road, but could not help but notice that nothing seemed to change outside. Each house seemed to be the same mid-century home that was both too big for a single person to live in alone, yet too small for a family. From the two-car garage that was not built for the larger SUVs and trucks of today, to the smaller yards and fence in a state of disrepair, the homes may have been the same old bland design that populated this part of town, but it was also ones that reminded her of her family home out west. She remembers vividly fighting her siblings, and even her parents, for time in the only shower in the house, which, for some reason, was located right down the hall from the living room. While the bedrooms may have had their own bathrooms, they were cramped, and it was difficult to get ready in these rooms. A smirk crossed her face as she remembered having to dodge, duck, dive, and weave her way around her family in the mornings as everyone moved in a chaotic pattern as they got ready for the day.

Street lights continued to pass by, one after the other, and all they could do is steal the smile from her face.

Lynn shifted her eyes towards the driver's seat and took in her grandmother. She was a little older than one might expect for a grandparent. She was seventy three years of age and had started to finally look it. Wrinkles became the dominant feature one might spot on her face, and right after, one would see the sea of gray that had begun to dominate her hairline. Her fashion was muted shades of pastels, with a large, thick rimmed glasses over her eyes, and large pearls around her neck. Her neck and spine as a whole were curved, giving her a hunched look as he gripped the steering wheel with a surprising amount of strength. The way her eyes squinted suggested that she was struggling to drive at this time of night. This was surprising to Lynn. When Lynn received the text from an unknown number, she brought it up to her grandma. She had figured that she’d have told her to ignore it and get ready for school the next day. Yet, for some reason, she was all too excited to take Lynn to a place that was undoubtedly breaking several laws. Was this some desperate Hail Mary right at the start of Lynn living here to make friends? Or was there some other reason that she wanted Lynn gone for the night? Lynn suspected it was a little bit of both.

From the countless photos of her mother that dotted the wall of her grandmother's house, there was no denying that Lynn was the spitting image of her. As an only child as well, that meant that when she died, her grandmother was without anyone. Grandpa had died a couple of years back of heart failure, and Lynn’s two Great Uncles had gone out in the war long ago. Thus, there was truly no other family that her Grandma had left. And when your only child dies long before their time, it can be a little hard to see her spitting image every day in your home again.

The car suddenly began to decelerate. Lynn looked over to her grandma, before her eyes darted out the front windscreen. She did not really know where she was. Had she visited this part of town in the two weeks she had been here? Lynn’s eyes darted from building to building, yet she could not make heads or tails of that question. Eventually, they returned to her grandma, and she offered a small smirk. “Do abandoned warehouses look different in the rust belt or,” Lynn paused as she looked out the passenger window again, leaning her head against the cool glass as she did, “did you see something in the road?”

“Oh, I can’t drive you right up to the door. There’s a bullying problem at the school, last I heard, and I don’t think little ol’ me dropping ya off will help with that,” she raised her right hand off the steering wheel and pointed at the road they were parked right before, “go right at the sign. That road will take you all the way to the party. I don’t want you to do anything you’d regret, but I hope you can make some good friends to start the school year off strong, okay? When you’re done, you can use my card to take a ride home. Now, I don’t want you out too late but please take your time. Have a little fun, you know?”

“Alright,” Lynn paused as she offered a weak smile. It was the former. She just wanted Lynn to be a teenager, in a controlled way. Lynn wondered if she was this relaxed with her mother? Lynn opened the door and put her right foot out, before she paused as she turned towards her Grandma. “Thanks, grandma.”

---

As Lynn walked through the doors of the warehouse, she couldn’t help but close her eyes and feel the music impact her body. Even though the rest of her senses were getting bombarded by the smell of body odor, the touch of bodies brushing past her, and the bright lights breaking through the weak barrier of her eyelids, she could only focus on the beat. She felt the rhythm enter her bones, and a small smile spread across her face. This was not her first party. She had snuck out about six months back when the weather was colder to go to one. It was held at some highschoolers house when his parents were out of town. She had tasted her first drink of alcohol that night. She remembered how freeing it was back then. The music hit better, the jokes were funnier, and the experience as a whole was a bright light that was blinded by the encroaching darkness. Her eyes opened.

She wondered if the drinks tonight would have the same impact the drinks back then had. Maybe they could strip away all the negative emotions that consumed her thoughts. Or allow her to relax and enjoy a crazy party and make some friends. That could wait. For now, she maneuvered through the crowd towards where the dance circle had formed. From the outskirts, she watched as two beautiful women began to dance and build the vibe around them. They seemed so free in everything they did. From her perspective, neither had a singular care in the world at this moment and that liberty seemed intoxicating. Just being near them lifted Lynn's spirits ever so.

If she were in a class with women like that, she could get used to going to school here.

[FernStone]

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Interactions: Kari, Lupe, Elsa @Evil Ghost Note
Nora’s House > Street Corner > The Warehouse

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The crash of glass hitting wood filled the air. A second later, a loud “sukinsyn” followed as Nora’s father reacted to his own mistake. He was drunk. Already. Nora knew all too well that he had a good five hours of drinking ahead of him before sleep pulled him to the dreamless abyss. He was sitting in an old reclining chair and had knocked his empty vodka bottle to the ground when he reached for the new bottle right next to it. Once he saw that the fresh bottle was unharmed, he shrugged his shoulders and continued with his march towards an early death. Meanwhile, Nora knew that their mother was right next to him on the couch. She preferred a beer over the vodka, but was hard-pressed to truly care too much what she consumed. As long as the brain rotting tv shows were playing, ones that you could simply turn off the thinking portion of your brain and just exist when the story was spoon-fed to you. The room reflected the mental state of the two, with not a decoration or photo on the four walls. The couch, and chairs, were all old and found at the second hand, second hand, store and had various patchwork fixes to the many dings they’ve seen over the past many decades of existence. Several stubborn stains stuck out like a sore thumb, despite repeated efforts to clean them up. Despite this, the floor was relatively clear. It was easy to see that someone took the time to sweep, mop, and clean up the debris from these nights of drinking.

Nora knew all too well that this was going to be their parents' night tonight, but maybe Nora could make theirs better. They closed their door, jumped into their bed, and turned their TV up. Their room was small, no bigger than a large closet in some richer homes. Their bed was small, and it was pressed against the wall to the left of the doorway. To the right, next to the small standalone bathroom door, there was a bookshelf turned into a TV stand. The shelves were filled with various light novels, in order, manga, and comic books. There were a few plushies of their favorite characters tucked into the corners, facing out, and they stood watch over the small room. Next to the bookshelf was a desk, with two shelves above it filled with even more light novels and manga. Across the free spaces on the walls, various posters filled the void. Their bed was also neatly made, with a vibrantly colored blanket that had the faces of the two main characters of their favorite anime strewn across. Under the bed, and as a part of the frame, the various drawers contained every last piece of clothing that they owned. They were packed both neatly and orderly. Nora themself was dressed comfortably. They wore fluffy pajama pants tied at the waist, with an oversized shirt that once again contained an anime character from their favorite anime.

As they watched their TV, their phone buzzed again. Nora’s eyes slowly shifted towards the screen, and they saw that it was another message from Ella. A second later, the phone buzzed again, and another message from Ella floated across the screen. Every couple of seconds, a new message popped up, buzzed the frame of their bed, and distracted them from the episode that they were watching. This was fine. If they looked at the messages, Ella would be no doubt able to convince them to get dressed and head out. There was a party somewhere in town that Ella wanted to go to, and they would not accept no for an answer from Nora. Thus, they ignored the message. If they never opened them, they could gain plausible deniability with the lack of the ‘read’ notification. This would allow them to pretend they simply got lost in an anime and never noticed the messages. It was a perfect plan. It was a foolproof plan. It was what they wanted. And nothing would ever change it.

---

“I can’t believe that you changed my plans,” Nora pouted as they crossed their arms. Gone were the comfy pajama pants, fuzzy slippers, and cute oversized shirt. In was the jean shorts, converse shoes, and old oversized shirt with some random sports team name across the front.

"You totally believe it, cause you’re here!" Ella squealed, jumping forward and hooking Nora in for a big hug. This involved lifting her smaller friend up into the air and spinning them around before putting them down with a big grin.

Here was the corner of the street that was the exact midpoint between both of their houses. It was their meeting spot, even if it wasn’t a very secret one. But that didn’t matter! Ella was as cheerful as normally. She wore a cute, off the shoulder crop top with frilly sleeves and a strawberry design, matching her pastel pink plaid skirt. She had a small, cute and matching shoulder bag. Her makeup was even more vivid than normal, with white eyeliner flicking into hearts on bright pink eyeshadow. The top half of her hair was pulled up into two buns, with the rest falling in neat coils to the bottom of her chin.

"Everyone’s going to be there! Elsa even said she was going to drag Kari along… We’ve barely seen her this summer! I know I normally say anime is, like, way more important than anything else, but not this! This is a party like in all of our anime, Nora! We get to live a highschool anime!" Ella continued, hooking her arm into Nora’s and practically dragging her in the direction of the abandoned warehouse. It was a fair walk, but not that bad. Everything in town was walkable… And neither of them had parents free or caring enough to drive them.

A sly grin crossed Nora’s face. Ella was right. This was like the two of them were in a super cute slice of life anime set in a rural, rustic town that had a charm hidden beneath the layer of grime. In those animes there was always that series-defining party that would either be the culmination of the story itself, or set the tone for the rest of the season. Nora knew that for them, it would be the latter. This was needed; their anime could wait. Instead, they returned the hug and jumped up, wrapping their legs around the sides of Ella’s hips, nearly driving their friend off their feet. “Everyone is going to be there to witness the first, and I mean the first, appearance of the most legendary and awesome friend duo! And with our fearless friend Kari, and Elsa, and everyone else there we will be on track to have a great… no, a legenry year that we look fondly on as we grow old together!”

"It’s gonna be magical!" Ella grinned, throwing a fist into the air, not having much problem with supporting her friend's whole weight. She only stumbled because the tackle was unexpected, after all! "They aren’t ready! I bet nobody’s expecting us, which means we can make a dramatic entrance! Our junior year is gonna be awesome, Nora, I can already tell… And then senior year will too! Nothing’s gonna ruin our super awesome anime moment, not even all those popular guys who I bet will be shocked we turned up… But a magical girl never lets that kind of thing get to her. It doesn’t matter, anyway, cause there’ll be plenty of good company. Oh, oh, I bet we can take over whatever speaker they’ve got and blast anime songs!"

“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god what if, and hear me out, what if we hijacked the speaker, blast either Unravel, or Black catcher, or something like that and then we make our dramatic entrance! It is going to be such an awesome year, Ella, I can feel it in my soul that it will be awesome. And not even that ugly idiot Tyler can ruin it,” Nora paused as they released their grip on their massive hug and dropped their feet to the ground, “if he tries to ruin it wouldn’t it be so funny if we ruin the night for him instead?”

"We’re only ruining his night with a fist to the face if he decides to be an asshole!" Ella valiantly declared, brandishing a fist. But she didn’t want to think about something like that. She remembered once when she was younger and cried to her mom about being bullied… Her mom said that bullies were just sad people with their own problems. She had been right that they were sad, and Ella pitied them, though she wouldn’t let them get away with hurting her friends! Just, having fun was more important!

"Otherwise, we’re just gonna have the best time. I think we should go with Unravel! Then Moonlight Densetsu right after! Oh, but how are we gonna put it on for our entrance?! We’d have to go inside to hijack the speaker!"

“My fist is ready to defend you, if your fist is ready to defend me,” Nora paused as she held her fist up high in the sky, “call me Saitama because I will be like, one punch, man. He’s done.”

Ella tilted her head back and laughed, a bounce in her step as she tugged Nora in the direction they had to go. She didn’t want to be too late! "I’d love love love to see that! You take him out and I’ll take out whats-his-name… Vicky’s boyfriend! Just one punch before he’s gone for good- Haha, we’ll vanquish all the evil jocks together!"

Still laughing, she grinned. "But first, we gotta get there, and have loads of fun! Show off our dance moves and our great taste in music!"

---

“There it is! There our future starts! They are so not ready for the two of us,” Nora paused as she once again gave her taller friend the biggest hug she could. There was genuine excitement in both her smile and her tone.

"By Sailor Moon, they aren’t! I can’t wait to give Kari the biggest hug ever! And Elsa too, obviously!" Ella grinned, arms wrapping around Nora to squeeze her tight… Almost too tight. She was stronger than she looked, after all. She was glad her best friend was actually excited now. She knew she’d end up enjoying this! "C’mon, let’s go inside… I can already hear the fun!"

“You come in from the left, and pin her down with your big hug that we all love, and then I will come in from the right and complete it. They will be so surprised to see us both there,” Nora grinned widely but paused as the breeze carried the strong scent of body odor, sweat, alcohol, and regret hit their nostril. “oh my god, it smells like the last day of con in there..”

"Oh sweet, sweet con stench, I’ve missed you!" Ella declared dramatically with a laugh. She grabbed Nora’s hand, tugging her towards the entrance. "Alright, game time! I will pin her down!"

It was busy inside, filled with drunk teens partying. The whole junior and senior year to be really had showed up, hadn’t they?! It took Ella a moment to actually spot who she was looking for. But luckily she was tall- taller than most people here, a few of the boys aside. There she was! On the dance floor. Kari on the dance floor! It truly was a day blessed by Sailor Moon! And not just Kari, but there was Elsa off to the side, and Lupe! She’d missed her bright energy!

"Kaaaa-rrriiiii!" Ella shouted loud enough to be heard over the music as she surged her way forward. She didn’t quite follow the going from the left plan, instead making her way straight for her friend. She didn’t really weave through the crowd so much as she pushed through it. Soon she was in the dance zone, pulling Kari into a tight and inescapable hug. "I’ve missed you so much! It’s been, like, weeks! I can’t believe you actually came, I thought you’d be like Nora and totally pretending you didn’t wanna come at home- Oh my Moon, hi Lupe, Elsa!"

She had to resist the urge to immediately hug her other friends, holding Kari in place for the plan.

Nora also forgot the plan as soon as it was in motion. They came in from the other side, waiting only a second after Ella had pinned Kari. “Yeah, who would want to stay home when there are such amazing friends here! I’ve missed you Kari!” Nora held Kari tight as their head shifted towards Lupe, “and Lupe, you look soooo good tonight,” their head shifted again and spotted Elsa, “and so do you Elsa! I am so glad Ella told me about this!” Nora eased off the hug as they began to do their best white girl dance moves to the music, joining the crowd in the dancing.

"They were gonna sit at home all night and miss this. This! The best party in the world!" Ella grinned brightly, seeming to ease off Kari, only to pull Lupe into the hug too. She did a little sway as she did along to the music. "The start of the best season of our highschool life! This year I swear, I’m going to get the back seat by the window!"

“It’s not that I didn’t want to go,” they didn’t, “or that I had somewhere more important to be,” anime was life, “but I am so glad they made sure I came! This is amazing!”

"I’m so glad too. This is like… All of the sailor soldiers getting together after beating the bad guy! Well, more like them getting together before going to beat the bad guys- Either way, it’s awesome!" She paused before she truly went off on a rant, grinning at Kari and Lupe.

"So… Tell us everything exciting you’ve done this summer! Well, the stuff we don’t already know about! Unless you can’t talk while dancing- Oh, we should get drinks!" She glanced between all her friends, statement turning into a question. "Drinks?"

[Drag]

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Interactions: Lynn
Daniel’s House

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Stirring in her crib, little sounds of discomfort began to emerge from young Jerusha Mars. Suddenly, just as soon as the noises began, they quieted as a pair of hands gently pulled her blanket up to just beneath her chin, comforting the infant and letting her drift off fully to sleep.

"Don't worry, Jerusha. I won't be gone long." Daniel Mars whispered, leaning over the crib and looking down at his sister with a warm smile. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small walkie-talkie with the "call" button taped down, gently placing it in the crib a few inches from Jerusha. "Just in case, if you need anything or you have a bad dream, mother and father will be able to hear you."

As he tiptoe'd out of the room, Daniel, yet again, began to internally question himself. Was this all worth it? What was he hoping to prove? How irate would his father be if he ever found out? When Daniel reached the door and flipped on his sister's nightlight, he allowed himself a moment to recompose, taking as much solace from the soft blue light himself as much as his slumbering sister. Then, after slowly shutting the door with a barely audible click, it was time to prepare.

Showering, brushing hair, washing hands, de-linting his sweater and, for some reason, brushing his teeth, Daniel felt comfortable he'd checked all the bases for what would be his first ever party. Now he was ready for the final and most important step, grabbing the other walkie-talkie from his bedroom and sneaking over to his parents, Daniel peeked through the door, finding his mother sprawled out across the entire bed and drooling onto the pillows.

'Drat!' He thought to himself, adrenaline coursing enough for him to use a normally too-harsh-for-him expletive. He couldn't leave the walkie with just his mother, he'd forgotten that around this time was when she normally took enough sleeping pills to knock a rhino unconscious.

Thus, only one route was left available. Daniel descended towards the living room like a master of espionage, back against walls, slipping between cover, watching out for nonexistent guard patrols. Finally, he'd made it down the stairs and to his destination, having expected to put his stealth abilities to the absolute test and instead seeing that it wouldn't be necessary. Michael Mars, instead of upright and alert, sat slumped in his favourite chair, snoring softly as his limp hand dribbled the thimbleful of bourbon left from his glass directly onto his sweater vest.

Daniel stood there for a moment, quietly taking in the pathetic sight of his father - illuminated by a still active television and with the trail of spilled alcohol traveling down from his chest to the front of his pants, making it appear as if he'd urinated himself.

"Phew!" Daniel happily exclaimed, wiping some imagined sweat from his brow. Questioning absolutely nothing about this scene, he walked over and left the walkie-talkie by the foot of his father's chair.

"Good night, father!" Daniel cheerfully waved as he casually left through the front door.

"Ugh." Michael Mars burped in reply, eyes firmly shut as the foul stench of his consumed drink continued to waft around the room.

---

Warehouse

---

This might've been a mistake.

It wasn't quite as simple as calling the experience "overwhelming", that likely applied to even the expert partygoers. The music, which felt as though it shook bodies down to the skeleton, the sensory overload of lights and noise as voices screamed over each other for dominance, the wall-to-wall mass of humanity from what seemed to be every single person and then some from Cornell High decided to attend tonight's festivities, the stench of body-odour, alcohol, extremely generously applied perfumes and colognes. No, for Daniel Mars, this was the equivalent to someone who's never even seen a body of water being tossed into the ocean and forced to learn how to swim.

The first time he stepped in he had to leave immediately just to catch his breath, journey's two and three hadn't fared much better. Now, on his fourth expedition, he'd managed to steel himself enough to withstand the immediate onslaught, at least enough to get a lay of the land.

"I want to make this a night to fuckin' remember!" Lupe shouts, "Because I make every night a night to remember!"

Lupe

He winced, first at the cussing and then the extremely loud cheer that followed. However he took this as a good sign, he was still here, among the bodies and taking everything in. The one good thing to be said about the madness surrounding him was that it took his mind away from the doubts, he was so wrapped up in trying to make sense of everything that he was no longer questioning why he made the journey in the first place.

If anything, he was getting strong enough to take proper stock of his surroundings. He knew the girl who yelled, Lupe, well, knew was a strong word, she was a vibrant girl who everyone at least noticed. He saw Danny Graham, who'd once "accidentally" shoulder checked Daniel into a locker for the crime of having the same name, an act that had Daniel seeing black circles in his right eye for several weeks, he wisely gave Graham a wide berth. Moving closer where there was less mingling and more dancing, Daniel could not help but spot the loud and assertive yells of Ella Brooks, a girl Daniel only knew by appearance on account of her phosphorescent pink hair. Even still, it made him smile to see someone having fun without appearing to drink themselves stupid, in fact she appeared quite sprightly as he charged forward, getting closer and closer and-

"Oof!" Daniel yelped as Ella separated the sea of drunken teenagers to reach her friend, inadvertently knocking the skinny young man aside in her rush.

As he toppled backwards, he collided with a girl he'd never met before, certainly a girl he'd never accidentally slammed into before. Catching a shock of her ghostly blonde hair shimmering against an orange light overhead and the jet black eyeliner that gave her gaze an especially piercing quality. These were all perceptions that did not come immediately to Daniel Mars as he instead stumbled over himself in embarrassment.

"I'm sorry! I didn't mean to knock into you! That's my bad!" Daniel exclaimed, voice modulating a little too loudly and a little too quiet as he tried to voice a genuine apology over the music.

[Atrophy]

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Interactions: Mentions Lupe, Tuyen, & Tyler
Warehouse

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There’s no good way to say this: Vicky hated parties.

Now, wait! Stop, stop, she’s not some kind of monster or, worse, an introvert—Vicky didn’t hate partying. She loved partying. If she could she would party all the time, only that’s how people ended up turning tricks like that psycho’s mom and meanwhile Vicky actually had a future. Still, that didn’t mean it wasn’t nice to temporarily drown out the future’s ceaseless drone with loud music and skunked beers. Anyway, she was fun.

She was having fun.

She was fun to be around and everyone around her was having fun.

It’s just that when she heard the cheering and saw the dance circle forming on the other side of the warehouse it kind of seemed like those people over there were having way more fun than her and—see! This right here was why she hated parties! Everybody was focusing on Lupe being a fricking idiot and hardly nobody was even aware that Vicky was about to make history. Even Vicky was hardly paying attention anymore, her head tilted towards Lupe as the woman balanced on a folding chair. Vicky’s eyes beamed a signal command directly into the annoying loudmouth’s empty brain, ordering her to fall! Fall! Fall!

Instead there were cheers. Jesus Christ, was everyone over there high or something? She wanted to be high. Right now she wasn’t even drunk. It wasn’t even her fault. The problem was that she was too good and she kept winning and the more she won the less she drank, which ultimately made the competition sloppier. That in turn made winning even easier although, listen, it didn’t change the fact that Vicky had run the table since she got there and this had to be some kind of record so, like, why the fuck weren’t they cheering over here?

Out of nowhere, her hand struck out like a cobra and swatted a bright orange ping pong ball as it bounced dangerously close to the rim of a red solo cup, smashing the ball across the warehouse from the potentially record-breaking beer pong game.

“Aw, nice bounce, little bitch. Playing with balls is, like, your entire personality. Shouldn’t you be good at this? ” teased Vicky as the jock opposing her chased after the ball. Okay, maybe she was a little drunk, but it wasn’t like she was shit-talking. This was playful banter. She turned her head to her partner. “It’s just so embarrassing. Isn’t it just so embarrassing?”

“Super embarrassing,” confirmed Gwen.

Gwen dressed and sounded and acted just like Vicky. A couple of years ago Vicky would’ve been the one who was a carbon copy of Gwen, but, well, now Vicky dated football stars while Gwen got dumped by the guy who worked drive thru at the Slappyburger. Imagine getting rejected by the dude who makes minimum wage to ask strangers over a loudspeaker how they would like their meat slapped? Vicky couldn’t, and that was why Gwen now looked like her.

“Soooo embarrassing,” hissed Vicky with a little added grunt as she jerked to the side to catch a ball that was nowhere near the table.

“Fuck!” yelled the center for their school’s abysmal basketball team.

“Oof, just like playoffs.”

“Shut up, Vicky,” snapped the point guard.

“Make a shot, Jackson,” said Vicky, and she wasn’t talking about beer pong. She sunk her shot. Gwen missed, she was getting sloppy, and when the boys missed too Vicky threw her head back, stomped her foot, and let out a long, drawn out, “Uuuuuugh, oh my God, just give up. This game is taking so loooong. I want to driiiink.”

Where was Tuyen? She was supposed to get them drinks, so why wasn’t she here? Did she—no! Vicky snapped her head back to the dance floor. This was such utter bullshit, man, first they steal the spotlight, now they take her drinks (and her best friend)? No, no, no, there had to be a good reason for this. Vicky knew Tuyen. Tuyen wouldn’t do that; she’d get the drinks.

“Oh, Chef!”

Vicky waved at her boyfriend who was already heading her way. He was being weird tonight, really weird, like being a total moody bitch kind of weird. Earlier he’d been annoyingly pushy about her wearing his dumb letterman jacket even though it was massive on her and covered up her cute outfit. Then he kept on trying to hangout with her despite them having spent almost the whole weekend together. It was so annoying, like, he had barely just left for college and now he was already back to visit. Vicky felt like she was being smothered, although that might’ve been just because of all the extra fabric that smelled of Old Spice and Slim Jims weighing her shoulders down.

Since Tuyen had been kidnapped (because it was the only logical reason why she wasn’t back), Brayden Chef could get her a drink. And then maybe start a search party. Vicky was actually almost getting worried.

“Hey babe,” said Chef.

Without hesitation Vicky threw her arms around his neck, stood up on her tiptoes, and gave him a long kiss to really make Gwen feel like a total loser for getting dumped by the burger guy. Around the table, feet shuffled, the voyeurs almost as uncomfortable as Vicky was making out with someone who tasted like an old bowling alley. She could feel him sway backwards. How many Yuenglings had this idiot already crushed? He wasn’t even kissing back right. She pulled back with a loud exhale, as if Chef had taken her breath away instead of merely making her hold it, and moved in for a second assault but stopped short as he asked, “You gotta moment?”

“Right now? Babe, I’m in the middle of a game,” said Vicky.

“It’s kinda important.”

“Kind of means that it can wait,” said Vicky, missing her shot. Goddamnit, Bray Chef. He was throwing off her rhythm. “Could you get me a drink?”

But he didn’t get her a drink. He just stood there like a stupid idiot, staring at her, making a face. What did that face mean? His eyes were a bit red and watery. Was he high too? Was everybody here but her on drugs and/or drunk?

“Vicky, we need to talk.”

Oh. Vicky turned her attention from the game and stared at Chef. Oh, that bastard. That stupid bitch. He was going to break up with her. She didn’t really care about that. She wanted them to break up. She just didn’t want it to go down like this. Not now. Not tonight. Not at a party. Not in front of people who she would have to see for one more year. What a jerk. What a douchebag. What a total asshole.

Vicky felt her chest tighten. And seriously, were those motherfuckers over there still dancing and celebrating? It was like they wanted this to happen to her. She could feel the heat already starting to rise in the warehouse. Her eyes began dissecting Chef, peeling back the sunburnt skin on his face to crack open his thick skull and investigate the caverns beyond it. She was going to fucking murder him. Scientists would study his remains, unable to determine how a boy could be so stupid.

“But I’m winning,” she said as if that would stop the inevitable.

She wasn’t watching, which meant Gwen had to defend, and at the sudden outburst of excitement from the other end of the table it was clear to Vicky that Gwen fucked it. Vicky turned to see two ping pong balls nestled together in one cup. They lost. They were up six cups and they had lost. It was difficult for Vicky to drink the warm beer that Gwen had passed her way through a clenched jaw, but she somehow managed it. With no excuses left to avoid this, she spun towards Chef with a snap.

“What!?”

They disappeared outside. A few beats later and Vicky was already back inside, storming to the bar, muttering feverishly to herself as she wiped her eyes while fighting to free herself from Chef’s massive jacket and it’s stupid, broken fucking zipper. Defeated by the stuck zipper, the letterman jacket hung off of one shoulder as Vicky snatched a plastic bottle of something from the bar, sent the cap spinning to the floor, took a shot, and made a face like someone who had just been stabbed in the liver. She squinted at the liquor. Why was it so blue? Why was it so sweet? Why was liquor misspelled on the bottle? Oh, 30 proof? Well fuck those other questions, this would do. She was absolutely going to become someone else's problem tonight. She took another shot, made the same face, and turned to scream at Chef.

"God, you’re such a fucking idiot. It was a game. I don’t even like Tyler! I hate Tyler. Just like I hate—” yelled Vicky, startled to see that he hadn’t followed her in. “—you?”

Why hadn’t he—what the fuck, was he actually serious? This was so embarrassing, oh man, and everybody was looking at her. In this context, everybody meant the few kids around the drink table who could hear her outburst that was otherwise drowned out by the music, but if even one person saw her crying it wouldn’t be too long before it became local, no, perhaps even state news. She bolted with a sniff. Not here, not here, stop that shit. Oh, god, she choked on her quivering lip, she was like Gwen now. No, worse. What if Chef actually made it to the NFL? Her shoulders shook as she made some kind of horrified noise that most definitely wasn’t a suppressed sob, hid her face, and bolted for the bathroom with an ever so slight stumble because, seriously, she wasn't even that drunk it was just suffocating in here and there were too many bodies and, and, and—

Oh god, she *really* hated parties.

[FernStone]

---

Interactions: Vicky @Atrophy
Warehouse

---

Deep breath. Smile. You can get through this.

Tuyen didn’t want to be here. There were too many people, too much noise, and too many eyes on her. She’d rather be at home, even if it meant being alone with her thoughts. But she wasn’t at home. She was here. And she had to pretend she was enjoying herself, because otherwise Vicky would get upset at her. Then she’d have no friends. That would be worse.

Maybe it wouldn’t matter, since she couldn’t even do a simple thing like get drinks for them quickly.

“–So I thought, why not come back too? Since Chef did it ain’t weird, is it?”

Tuyen's smile wavered as she realised he was waiting for an answer. Her eyes focused on the guy in front of her rather than over his shoulder. John Miller, her ex-boyfriend, who’d trapped her into a corner as she tried to skirt around the walls to get to the drinks table. It had seemed like the safer option, avoiding the increasingly busier dance floor. She regretted it now. She never could make the right decision, even for something as simple as this.

”It isn’t.” She said quietly, barely audible above the music. She didn’t understand why he was talking to her. He’d broken up with her after only a month, and that had been long before the summer holidays even started. Was he hoping to get close to Vicky, who was the real reason he’d even dated Tuyen in the first place?

“Right, exactly. See, you always got me Tuyen. So I was thinking, maybe we could try again?”

Oh. What? Why?

She didn’t want to. She’d only dated him in the first place because it was normal, and she was trying to be more normal. Nobody else would ever ask her out anyway. She assumed that she’d develop some kind of normal feelings. But she hadn’t. She was left with the realisation that there was just something deeply wrong with her. It wouldn’t be any different a second time, would it? No, she’d only hate herself more at the end of it. If that was even possible…

But how did she reject someone? She tilted herself to one side slightly to look past him. Lupe was off her chair now, and the heaving mass of teens blocking the drinks table seemed to be easing off. At least they weren’t so tightly massed that she couldn’t see a way through. She had to get Vicky’s drink. That was more important than this.

”I’m sorry. I told my Aunt I’d concentrate on my studies this year. I’m really sorry, John. You’ll find someone-” better- “else soon who understands you. You’re so lovely… But I can’t. I’m so sorry.” Tuyen managed to get out. The disappointment was clear on his face, something she really didn’t understand- unless it was disappointment in her. It must be that. He was disappointed about how ungrateful she was being, rejecting someone kind enough to want to date someone like her.

But it would be worse if she said yes. She didn’t have a crush on him, and never would. Not like she did–

Tuyen felt sick. She shouldn’t feel that way, and she shouldn’t think about it.

“Fine, I was just tryna do something nice- whatever,” John grumbled, stepping back enough that Tuyen could easily slip away with another mumbled sorry.

Not making the same mistake again, she weaved through the crowd as best she could. It was made difficult as a loud, pink haired girl- Ella from the year below, Tuyen remembered- pushed her way through, which had a chain reaction through the crowd. Tuyen narrowly avoided people falling into her- someone she didn’t recognise wasn’t so lucky, nor was poor Daniel for falling into said stranger. She managed to make herself as small as possible, weaving between people rather than shoving through like Ella had. At least she was good at blending in. It made it easier to get through.

She finally reached the makeshift bar, taking a deep breath to try and ease the anxiety crawling underneath her skin. She’d apologise for taking so long. Vicky had forgiven her for worse. What drink had she wanted? She’d just said something strong, hadn’t she? Which meant the same for Gwen, then the same for Tuyen herself… At least she’d avoided being dragged into the beer pong.

She reached for a half empty rum bottle, pouring generously into two red plastic cups and a bit less into another. Where was the mixer-

"God, you’re such a fucking idiot.”

Tuyen stiffened, breath catching in her throat. She was a fucking idiot. Of course she was. Had Vicky got sick of waiting for her, and decided to follow? She couldn’t blame her. But the words that followed didn’t make sense. She was surprised to turn and find that her friend wasn’t looking at her, or even that close to her. She was at the other end of the bar… She was talking to someone else, though Tuyen couldn’t figure out who.

Of course. There’s no way Vicky would feel strongly enough about her for those feelings to turn into hate.

Did she still need to make their drinks? Vicky had got her own now. What did she do… And what had happened? Did she check up on her? Act like everything was normal, and just go over with the drinks she had to finish mixing?

The uncertainty that trapped her burned away as Vicky suddenly stormed off, shoulders shaking like she was about to cry.

”Vicky.” Tuyen tried to call out, but it was smothered by all the noise. She abandoned their rum only drinks to follow. For all that Vicky was clearly drunk and stumbling, she was fast. Like she didn’t want anyone to catch her. But Tuyen couldn’t just leave her like that, someone had clearly happened, someone had to make sure she was alright- was it just the alcohol? Had she lost beer pong? Had Gwen said something? Her boyfriend? Tuyen hadn’t seen him yet, but she knew he was here.

She hated herself for the stab of jealousy she felt in her gut, and sickening hope the worse had happened there. God, she was disgusting.

”Vicky?” Tuyen only caught up as Vicky reached the bathroom, following her inside. It meant she was finally loud enough to be heard, the door thudding behind her muffling the sounds of music and shouting.

She only realised that maybe Vicky hadn’t wanted anyone to follow her. The anxiety was back and stronger, trying to claw its way out of her throat. She swallowed it back down. She had to pretend to be fine and happy. She’d support her friend, even if that support meant any upset turning towards her. Surely that would be better, anyway?

”Are you alright?” Tuyen continued, shuffling closer without invading her friend’s personal space. She still spoke softly, as if someone might somehow overhear in the thankfully empty (and barely functional) bathroom. She bit down the reactive apology for taking too long. That would just be making this about herself. ”Did something happen after I left?”

She managed an apologetic smile- matched with a gentle, concerned expression that screamed someone who meant no harm and could be easily walked over. As much as she felt she’d deserve Vicky turning around and getting upset at her, the thought of it also scared her. She couldn’t handle being disliked like that, even though it was inevitable. So she was trying to walk the fine line of being there without seeming intrusive.

”Can I help with anything? Or- Or is it just the alcohol?”

[Blizz]

Current day
Interactions: N/A

---

Cornell was a sleepy place. For all the unease, for all the waiting, there was a yawn that began lifetimes ago.

A black Mercury Cougar rolled down empty streets. There was scarcely another car on the road at this hour, no one seeing the old thing turn off the main road and down the winding paths of the town. The interior was cast in shadow, not a sound from the radio or the signs of any life from Tommy's empty passenger seat. He turned this way and that, one arm propped against the door and the other on the wheel. The street lights were sparse, some of them were out and no one was bothering to fix them. Most people were out cold by now, the parents and older folks were indoors and all surely asleep. Meanwhile, half of a generation was up and at 'em at this godforsaken hour.

It wasn’t like there was shit else to do, anyway.

Tommy picked up some speed.

He was surprised anyone had even invited him. Most people didn’t really hang out with a guy like him, let alone bring him along for late-night activities such as a party. But it seemed like everyone was going, and miraculously, he was included. Tommy might not have even known there was a party going on otherwise. He had nothing better to do, and maybe it’d be fun. Maybe he’d have some laughs before he drove home. His mother and father weren’t that overbearing, they weren’t likely to begrudge a kid his age for going to a party anyway. As long as he didn’t get home drunk or beaten to shit, which he wouldn’t.

After long minutes down a dark road, Tommy turned off at a fork and pulled up to a warehouse. It was easy to spot from a distance, with the lights of the few other cars being driven here and the people. He parked near the door, and it was dark enough that no one saw him lean back against his seat. Once the engine kicked off, he felt the vibration of the music coming from inside. Tommy wondered if, maybe, just maybe, this was a fluke. Maybe he wasn’t invited and someone had just dialed the wrong number. Maybe that text message had to be responded to before he deleted the contact he wasn’t familiar with. Maybe someone had dug up an old case and was here to-

Nah.

He sighed, and popped the glovebox open. From there, he grabbed his switchblade. He bought it off some senior last year, and there was surely a lot of alcohol in that warehouse right now. Tommy stuffed it into his jacket and swung his legs out of the car.

Inside, the music was loud. It almost felt hard to breathe for a second. It shook the floor and filled his stomach with the sensation of being grabbed by a vice. Fuck, that was a lot. He didn’t expect that, and he didn’t expect this many people. There were drinks being slung around, people making out like flesh was the last edible thing in town, and… Oh, someone was dancing on chairs. Sure, why not? It dawned on Tommy that he had no idea who the fuck any of these people were. He recognized the occasional face here and there, but most of them were total strangers. Shit, he imagined bonfires and drugs, not half the alcohol in town and more noise than a den of foxes in heat. Tommy was way out of his league in here.

”Well…”

He sighed, and watched people bump into each other. So many of these kids were drunk off their asses.

”…Shit.” He stuffed his hands into his pockets, and just strode forward into the mess.

[Rekkuza]

September 7th, the day the Party of Doom happened
Bach Household
Interactions: Vicky mentionned

---

Kersten hummed a tuneless song to herself as she took out the steaming pan out of the oven. She deftly stuck a toothpick in the center of the pan, and watched with satisfaction as it came back out slightly sticky. The brownies were ready. They only had to cool down for a bit, and then into the tupperwares they’d go.

They took the time to finish their preparations for the evening. Their flour-stained hoodie was switched to a nice, clean lumberjack-y flannel shirt, and they put on their favorite, floor length pleated skirt. It would spin nicely if they ever decided to give the dance floor a go.

He ran inventory one last time too, just to be sure everything was ready. The baggies of mids were packed and ready for distribution, and so was the anti-asshole oregano. His smallest bong was carefully padded and secured at the bottom of his backpack, and he had a few pre-rolled joints of premium bud in his pocket to smoke on the walk over to the warehouse, y’know, for pregaming and everything. And with his brownies soon to join the mix, he’d be set for one hell of an evening.

"Ma! Pa! I’m leaving!" Kersten called back into the house as she left through the front door. "Be back later, I’ll be taking a taxi home!"

---

Warehouse

---

The music was bumping, the people were cheering, the dance floor was especially vibrant with Lupe leading the pack, and the vibe was goddamn immaculate. Kersten took another hit as he looked around the Stoner Corner he and his best buddies had formed.

Her arrival had been met with cheers from a couple of her friends, and she got settled pretty quickly after that. Richie Smith pulled out a picnic blanket and two jumbo bags of Flamin’ Hot Cheetos (and after demolishing an entire pot brownie, was well on his way to finishing the first bag), and Sloane Powell showed off the massive fucking beanbag she’d dragged across half of town, the one she was now lounging on like she owned the entire place. People would phase in and out, to chill and pass around a joint or the bong, and a few braver ones would snack on a brownie. Sweet, white smoke filled their corner, clearly marking their position to anyone that couldn’t track them by the smell alone.

This was Kersten’s domain, and they were the Lord of its manor. Or something like that. The metaphor kinda got out of their hands there, sounded way more pretentious than it actually is. The point is, they controlled the weed, so they also controlled their corner's vibe, and they only wanted good ones. Every visitor would get a couple puffs and a brownie if they wanted to. The chill ones would leave with a baggie slipped into their sleeve or pocket. The rude and pushy ones would get a nice pasta sauce-flavored surprise when they’ll try to light up at home.

A small commotion had him briefly look over to the beer pong table, and huh. Looked like queen of the tryhards Vicky arguing with her beau. Chef had passed by their corner earlier, looking pretty stressed out. Or maybe just kinda sad. Either way, he’d taken his fill and left, and seeing how Vicky was now taking shots of curaçao straight from the bottle, Kersten had an inkling as to why he’d needed the extra courage.

Kersten grabbed another brownie and started gnawing on it. Kind of a shitty move to dump someone right in the middle of a party. Better avoid the bar for now.

Welp. That’s not any of their problems. They’ve got green goodness to distribute. But first, a small pit stop on the dance floor. They finished their brownie, got up from where they’d been lounging, stretched a bit, and wandered over to the packed dance circle, hips swaying to the beat. "Make some space for me too, guys!" they called out cheerily as they made their way in.

Once she was done mingling with the dancing crowd, maybe she could convince Richie to go fool around with her in the bathrooms…

[NoriWasHere]

---

Current day
Interactions: Tommy
Outfit: Normal

---

This party sucked.

Tyler was leaning back against the drink bar, with both elbows on the top, and his face betrayed that he was utterly bored. The music was nothing more than basic party drivel, those who danced to it lacked rhythm and skill, and worst of all, the drinks tasted like they were prepared by someone who never tasted anything finer than a cheap bottom-shelf whisky. This was not the epic, end-of-summer party that Lupe had promised. This wasn’t the welcome to the new year he was hoping for. And yet he came because to these losers and ne’er-do-wells, Tyler was a hero. He was a hero because he single-handedly led their football team to an undefeated season and a championship ring. He was a hero, and what kind of hero would he be if he stayed at home? Especially after what had transpired last year.

Tyler had a code when it came to his bullying. He never bullied someone weaker than him, a disabled person, or a potential school shooter. The reasons for each one were simple. Tyler has always had a desire to be the best and the strongest, a desire that has been present since he was a kid. As such, he gets little to no joy from ruining the day of someone who was mentally weak or could not fight back. As well, to bully a disabled person was one of the lowest lows a person could sink. Only weak people targeted those who, through no fault of their own, don’t experience life in the same way. Lastly, he never bullied the usual suspects because this was America. School shootings were sadly a reality that every student lived in fear of, Tyler included. Others may have forgotten the day that Jared was arrested, but not Tyler. That day revealed how little about others he truly knew. While he had avoided bullying Jared and his little puppy like the plague, would they have realized the difference between their bullies and a bully?

That is where a hero like Tyler could step in. He could be the one to either catch or stop the next idiot who tried to solve their problems with a coward's weapon. That’s why he truly came here tonight. From the outside perspective, it made sense for someone like Tyler to be at a truly dreadful party like this. He was the generational talent who led their high school football team to a championship. His father was a local legend who filled the trophy case back in the day. Parties were where he was allowed to exist as the peak of the high school experience. Even now, he watched as random women looked his way, practically begging for the tiniest shred of attention from the star. While the rest of his football team drank their fill and leaned on their game on the field versus their actual game with the ladies, he sat at the bar with eyes sharpened by his years of training to see everything on the field. Tyler had set a plan in motion, and it was deviously simple. He had swiped a particular guys number from a mutual contact, and had sent him a message with a google number. It was not tied to his name and was created under a fake account that would never link back to him. He had sent him a message inviting him to the party, and it would be Tyler who….

Suddenly, the sound of two bodies colliding and one falling to the ground caught his attention. He quickly located the source and sighed. It appeared that the Jesus freak had knocked over… who had he knocked over? Tyler crooked his head as he looked at the girl on the ground and racked his memory to try to figure out who that might be. She had blonde hair, a heavy use of makeup, and was wholly unremarkable. Was this a new kid? Who the fuck had invited a new kid to a school party? That was most uncool. The fun of a party was it was typically filled with the people that you knew from class, activities, or other social means from the school itself. More or less, the people who were invited, or invited by someone invited, would not be a narc. Tyler hated the uncertainty that a new girl brought to the equation. They had no loyalty to the school, to the culture, to the heroes that walked the halls. He would need to get to the bottom of this.

Suddenly, the most beautiful sound caught his attention as his eyes located Vicky, who had begun to sob. A sickening smile crossed his face at the sight. She was babbling about something or another, and in truth, it did not matter to him what had caused her to enter this state. As long as she was feeling bad, that was enough to bring a smile to his face. It wasn’t like he hated Vicky. Far from it. The two had practically grown up together, with their parents being aquintances who fancied the idea of play dates. Instead of the cute, fun play dates that they had expected, their parents bore witness to the birth of a heated rivalry. Even from the very first meeting, where the two had competed to see who could create the most intricate and beautiful piece of macaroni art, it was clear that the two would never have a normal friendship. The two were simply two alpha competitors who just so happened to claim the same territory. If she were thrown off her game early on in the school year, that would make it much easier for him to win. Tyler blinked as the two distractions had pulled him from his thoughts, and he paused everything as he tried to remember what he was doing prior.

“Oh, that’s right,” Tyler whispered, aloud as his eyes narrowed, and his head moved slowly from left to right, scanning the crowd.

…it would be Tyler who would see if Tommy was going to be the next threat to the school and be the hero who stopped him ahead of time. Sure, Tommy gave no reason for Tyler to suspect anything nefarious. He was a hardass who would bitch and moan, but still stop to help someone if they needed help. Yet this did little to dispel the odd vibe he gave off. There was some unspoken ick that seemed to emanate from the kid, and Tyler did not like it. That is why he created the Google number, that is why he sent a text message to invite him to the party, and that is why Tyler was going to have a little chat with the guy if he did show up. Not because he wanted to become the bestest of best friends, but to ensure that the bad vibe was just a vibe and not his hidden intent to harm.

Tyler’s posture suddenly straightened as he caught sight of the blonde hair and tired eyes that he was looking for. Tommy had decided to show his face after all. Tyler knew he had to play this smart and slow. If he came in hot and fast with a “are you a school shooter” Tyler would be an asshole, and an idiot, and be the first one to go if a shooting went down. Instead, he had to be the perfect asshole. One that others expected for someone of his status, and one he was more than happy to shoulder. With that thought in mind, Tyler skillfully glided through the crowd, all the while his eyes remained locked onto his prey as if he were a hawk diving on it from above. Each step was deliberate, each near miss led to the next, and before long, he was right behind his mark. With a powerful jab of his finger, Tyler made his presence known.

“Wow. Who invited you?”

[Rekkuza]

September 7th, a few hours before all of Hell broke loose
Warehouse
Interactions: None

---

This was a bad idea. A very very very bad idea. Why did he even come? It’s not like he wanted to come. It’s not like he was even really invited in the first place, he just knew about the party because, well, everyone knew about it. Going off from the noise coming from the front doors, it’s not like anyone would notice him slipping in. Or would they notice? Would they notice the intruder? Would they spy his difference from the corner of their drunken eyes? Would they stare? Scorn him for it? Hide it behind sickly sweet cardboard smiles? They would, wouldn’t they. People always noticed.

His mother wouldn’t notice him gone, though. She never noticed, unless when she wants to. But this night she won’t notice him gone. Or if she does, she won’t care. She never cares. He could never come home and she wouldn’t care. He wouldn’t have to see her. If things go wrong he could just leave the party and spend the night at the park or near that 24h convenience store or—





—What was he thinking about…?

Dammit, his thoughts vanished again. He hates when that happens. Camille glanced over to the warehouse doors. He was probably thinking about the party. And how many people there was in there. His village was, what, 300 in population? 350 max? There must be at least a third that many, just in there. Probably more. And only people his age. Too many. Cornell is so big…

No, no, take a big breath. He came here for a reason. He came here because… because… because he can’t stay alone. It’s not good for him. His Papa would be sad to see him right now. He needs to… meet some people. He had friends back home. He could maybe have some friends here too? Or at least acquaintances. Or just… people he doesn’t feel like he needs to run away from. Just one person he can tolerate, that’s all he’s asking.

People are bad, but alone… alone like he is, is worse. When stuck between Scylla and Charybdis, you have to choose Scylla.

One last breath. Look up at the sky. Not a cloud in sight; that’s a good sign. Clear skies mean a clear mind. Steel yourself, remember when to smile, remember that you are strong, and… enter.

And immediately be hit by the sheer overwhelming atmosphere. The noise, the movement, the lights, the smell, the crowd. People were bumping into each other left and right, spilling drinks from those red plastic cups he’d have otherwise sworn were just a movie thing. People were climbing on chairs and shouting on the makeshift dance floor, and a strong smell of cannabis wafted from somewhere in the building.

Camille didn’t want to be there anymore. He wanted to run away, right now. But he couldn’t, he wouldn’t. So he did the next best thing and hightailed it for the bar, which was thankfully relatively empty.

Everybody must’ve already gotten their drinks.

He slipped through the crowd, quick and silent, keeping his hands shoved in his hoodie’s pocket, hiding his bruised knuckles. Get to the bar, grip the table-turned-bar-countertop a completely normal amount of hard, and grab the first can of whatever he recognizes. There. Budweiser. It’s shit, but it’ll do.

He looks normal. He looks like he belongs. No one is staring at him. He hasn’t seen anyone glance at him for more than to avoid bumping into him. He’s fine.

But try as he might to convince himself, he can feel it. The Gaze, burning a hole through his back. A drop of sweat rolls down the back of his neck. Someone is watching him. Someone has caught on to his charade. He can never catch them in the act, people have said it’s all in his mind, but he can feel them staring, a visceral, almost physical sensation.

He cracked open his can and took a shaky sip. Yup, tastes just as bad as he remembered. Still helps to settle his nerves though.

He found himself a spot on the room’s edge, where he had a wall at his back and a view of most of the crowd. He slowly sipped his beer, not too quickly since he hadn’t eaten dinner (again) and didn’t want to make himself sick, but enough to give himself something to do as he peoplewatched.

He watched the others dance, and talk, and laugh. He couldn’t pick out what people were saying, their words either too quick or too slurred or both for him to translate. The music was, well, he would be lying if he said he didn’t know any of it, a good chunk of the songs did occasionally play on the radio, so he’d heard them in passing a few times. But he didn’t really know it know it. American music was still a bit of a mystery to him, ignorant of music in general as he was. He didn’t especially like it, nor the way he could feel the bass resonate in his chest.

Maybe hoping to get out and talk to people was too much. Maybe just being there would have to be enough, would make his face a bit more familiar for when he’d start attending proper, real classes again. Maybe then he could start having something of a social life that wasn’t occasionally punching an asshole’s lights out in a back alley. Or his mother screaming at him.

Or maybe this whole thing would just put a bigger target on him. He could still feel the Gaze burning into him from somewhere unseen. Could feel how high strung it made him, how close to snapping his nerves were. Camille just… really hoped no one would talk to him. He wasn’t sure he’d survive an actual conversation.

[silvermist1116]

Time: 9:30pm
Location: Cornell Police Department Interrogation Room

---

The overhead lights were way too bright to be comfortable. The chair hell on her back and ass. A full water bottle sat on the metal table in front of her. On the other of it was a two way mirror. She couldn't see the agents on the other side of it, but she knew they were there. They'd been there for an hour. About as long as she'd been trapped in this room. She sat with her arms crossed over her chest. Hadn't moved from that position or turned her dead eye stare away from the mirror in just as long.

She wasn't under arrest. They just brought her in for questioning. Her dumbass boyfriend, Jared, went running his mouth about his plans on some loser Discord server, and now he's booked and being investigated. She's part of that investigation given she stayed at his house more often than not. Surely, his girlfriend would know something. Surely, she would. They wouldn't be wrong for thinking so, but she wasn't about to go running her mouth. She'd be implicated too and like hell she's going to jail before she gets her revenge.

At the 9:30pm mark, a woman walked in. White button up, black slacks, badge on her hip, looked like every FBI agent she'd ever seen on TV. The girl didn't move a muscle. Only her eyes tracked her from the door. The woman was spicy white. Maybe white latina. Or some obscure eastern European. Her black hair was pulled back into a bun. Her wire framed glassed sat on her nose. She held herself like this was another day on the job. Like she got calls like this all the time. Given how many shooting were documented a year, probably.

"Saylor Moon, sixteen, interesting name." The woman pulled the chair across from her out and took a seat. She placed the file in her hand on the table. "I'm Agent Miranda Novak. I take it you know why you're here."

Saylor shrugged.

Agent Novak wasn't fazed. Like she expected that type of answer from a teenager like her. "Interesting outfit you got on. My mom used to wear bell bottoms. Didn't think they still sold those." She leaned over to get a better look at them. "Blue with stripes. Cute. Where'd you get them?"

Saylor shrugged again. A thrift find that made up one weird item in her eclectic closet. She did her best to match it with something when the cops forced her to come down to the station. They were gracious enough to let her change out of her basketball shorts and sleep shirt. She had an orange lace up tank top that matched, but that was about it. It clashed with her black leather jacket and her combat boots. She's no stranger to going outside looking like a fool. She wore what they could afford. Either that or indecent exposure.

Agent Novak opened the file. "Alright, so your boyfriend, Jared Con-"

"Ex-boyfriend," Saylor said.

"Ex already. Smart kid. So your ex-boyfriend, Jared Connors, has been planning a school shooting for a few months now. Supposed to take place the week before graduation. What do you know about that?"

"Nothing."

"Nothing?" She looked down at the file she had of Jared. "Says here you've been living with him for some time. At sixteen, that's a lot."

"His parents have been living with him all his life. You ask them what they know?" She skirted around explaining why she was a somewhat live-in girlfriend at her age.

"Sure, but they aren't intimate with him like you are."

Saylor snorted. "Are you asking about our sex life?"

"No." Agent Novak clasped her hands together and leaned forward, staring Saylor in the eyes. "I mean like sharing secrets, telling each other things no one else knows, emotional support. Intimate."

Saylor nodded. "Well, he didn't tell me about this."

Agent Novak stared her down, and Saylor met her challenge. She didn't give anything away. Not in her face. Not in her eyes. Years of practice pretending she's okay after Ronnie beat her ass two ways to Sunday did that to a girl. The staring contest went long. Minutes ticked back. The second hand on the clock behind her ticked, ticked, ticked. Unflinching, unblinking. Agent Novak was the first the crack. She didn't have the dry of a teenager with too much screen time.

"I find it hard to believe." Agent Novak turned the file around to face her. There were pictures of the guns they practiced with in the forest behind the Connors's backyard. Along with pictures of the last target practice set up they had of glass bottles and painted targets on trees. One picture stuck out to her was of her and Jared, his brown floppy hair sweaty on his forehead. His arm around her shoulder, and her tucked into his side with his semi-automatic in his opposite hand and her borrowed pistol in hers. "You two seemed to know your way around guns. He teach you to shoot?"

"He did, under his dad's supervision. We were never alone with the guns and at the end of every practice, Mr. Connors would lock them back up. If Jer knew the code, he didn't tell me about it."

"Right."

Saylor wished this would end already. She left the hour wait and the last thirty minutes of 'interrogation' weighing on her, but she didn't let it show. Can't let them believe they have the high ground, when they don't.

[Atrophy]

---

Interactions: Tuyen @Fernstone
Warehouse, Bathroom

---

Don’t be a whiner. Be a winner. Winners don’t cry, not in public, not at a party, shit like that is for the showers where the tears can wash down the drain with the rest of the filth. Nobody liked the girl who cried at the party and Vicky had to be liked, because if she wasn’t like she wouldn’t win Homecoming Queen, and if she wasn’t Homecoming Queen she was just Vicky and just being Vicky apparently wasn’t—ENOUGH!

Vicky tore at Brayden’s jacket, fumbling with the stuck zipper, jerking violently as she moved on from attempting to free the zipper to trying to just break the damn thing. She slammed through the bathroom door with her shoulder. The second she caught sight that there was nobody inside she stopped trying to hold the tears back. She collapsed against the sink as she let out a choked, sputtering cry that sounded like a swarm of flies occasionally interrupted by one of them buzzing into a bugzapper.

"Vicky?"

Vicky’s entire body tensed when she heard her name, her fake nails threatening to crack as she gripped the porcelain of the dirty sink. The flies were exterminated at once but tears were still shed over their massacre as Vicky’s shoulders quaked like they were trying to sprout wings of their own. She stared into the dirty basin as the droplets fell from her face and streaked towards the drain. She held her breath and prayed that when she looked up in the mirror she would see a ghost, because otherwise she’d be looking at a dead woman. Her eyes sprung up faster than Tommy’s switchblade knife as she flashed a freezeframe glare of murderous intent that broke the moment she saw the other girl in the reflection.

”Are you alright?”

Oh, thank God. Tuyen! She was alive. She had chewed through the kidnapper’s ropes. Vicky was alright now, except wait, no she wasn’t, her life was terrible. Everything was terrible. She resumed her sniveling zt-zt-zt-ZZT cries. ”Did something happen after I left?” Was Tuyen joking? Only like the worst thing in the world had happened, wasn’t it obvious? How could she always be so calm even in this time of crisis? Vicky’s attempt to respond was gibberish: ey-fhyukt-uhpt. ”Can I help with anything? Sure, just do some magic and make Vicky go back in time so she could unfuck it. Only magic wasn’t real. This wasn’t like one of her Japanese animes American romantasies.

Vicky saw Tuyen’s tentative step forward and launched at her, grappling her up in a hug as Tuyen asked, “Or- Or is it just the alcohol?”

Wait, why say that? Was this a repeat offense? Did Vicky do something like this every time she got drunk? Was she already known as the girl who cried at the party, and everyone outside the bathroom was out there snickering about her tragedy right now? So wait did that mean she wasn’t going to be the Homecoming—oh, nope, Vicky felt the bottle of curaçao in her hand. Tuyen meant the blue stuff. The crown was still Vicky’s and, hey, Tuyen was right. Another drink would definitely help calm her down. Still locked in a hug, Vicky pressed the plastic to her lips, raised the bottle, and waited to make the liquor face again. The face never came. The bottle was empty. How was that possible? She had only taken like…

“I fucked up,” said Vicky, the sobs stopping for the moment of lucidity as the bottle bounced off of the bathroom floor before returning as a muffled wail as she buried herself into Tuyen’s shoulder.

Perhaps pregaming on the way to the party had been a bad decision, but that bottle Gwen had stolen from her mom had tasted like green apples. It couldn’t have been that strong. She wasn’t drunk. She totally wasn’t that drunk. Vicky most certainly wasn’t just drunk.

She was hammered.

Smashed.

Shitfaced.

“Tuyyyen, I fucked uppp!” cried Drunk Vicky, or Dicky, the named uttered behind her back by the girls on the cheer squad on account of how after a few libations Vicky could become a total dick. “I broke up with—”

Whoa, girl. Time out. Vicky pulled back from Tuyen, holding her at arms length, scanning her like she was reading the nutrition facts off the back of a box of cereal. Sure, Tuyen was both her best and longest friend, which were two different distinctions but still equally important, but, like, Vicky couldn’t tell her the truth. Vicky would look like an absolute jerk if she did. What kind of awful person broke up with someone at a party? Vicky figured that if she had struck first then Chef would feel awful, and if he felt awful he would think that he didn’t want to break up with her. It had made sense in her head so why hadn’t it worked? He was supposed to chase after her. Why hadn’t he chased after her?

Her eyes started watering again.

“Chef broke up with me. He said, ‘Is it because of Tyler?’, I mean, ‘It’s because of Tyler’ he said, and I said, ‘What does Tyler have to do with me—with you—with you breaking up with…you’ and, uh, and I said,” Vicky trailed off, her sobs dampening as she stared up at the lights, trying to figure out which version of the story she was telling.

She exploded in tears as she remembered.

“He said I was in love with Tyler and I’m not in love with Tyler, Tyler’s like a brother to me, but the kind of brother that you wish your parents had put up for adoption or forgot was in the backseat of their car on a hot summer day when they went into the grocery store and came out two hours later to find a crowd and police cars and a news team and, anyway, you understand right?”

Vicky’s eyes narrowed. Her arms dropped from Tuyen’s shoulders as she folded them out in front of her chest. What was that? What the fuck was that? Perhaps she was wrong, perhaps it was because she had half-blinded herself by staring at the fluorescents, but she swore she had just caught a weird look on Tuyen’s face. Vicky wiped her eyes with a sniffle, the remorse in her voice starting to evaporate as her words started to carry with them a little heat.

“Why aren’t you more upset?” asked Vicky, her tone not just suspicious but on the edge of hostile, her nose upturned, her shoulders squaring before the tension released and her face fell into her palm with a loud clap. “Oh my god, you think I’m in love with Tyler too. I told you, it’s not like that! Does everyone think that? Tuyen, does everyone think that!?”

With a loud gasp, Vicky grabbed Tuyen’s shoulders again.

“DOES TYLER THINK THAT!?”

[Evil Ghost Note]

---

---

---

Kari barely registered the incoming collision before Ella’s arms encircled her tightly. For a moment, she instinctively stiffened-her mind racing to identify who was there, where they were, and the impact's origin—before she heard the voice.

"Kaaaa-rrriiiii!" recognition suddenly clicked.

"Oh!" The sound escaped her as she half-laughed, Ella's grip squeezing the air from her lungs. "Hi, Ella,” Kari managed, her voice soft against her friend's shoulder.

Her arms instinctively responded with a hug, even if she couldn’t move much else.

“I missed you too. I can't feel my ribs, but I missed you." Then Nora joined the hug. Kari’s eyes widened briefly as a second pair of arms wrapped around her.

"Oh my god—" she exclaimed breathlessly and surprised as the group hug intensified. "Okay-okay, the ambush worked," she said, trying and failing to wiggle free.

“You two really nailed the surprise." The bass vibrated through the floor and her shoes as she tilted her head to look between Ella and Nora.

"Also, hi, Nora,” she added, smiling warmly now that the shock eased. Her eyes briefly darted to Ella when the topic of drinks came up, a decision seemingly promising future trouble. Kari opened her mouth to reply, but Lupe moved first.

---

Lupe watched the entire ambush unfold like someone witnessing a natural disaster that happened to also be extremely entertaining.

The moment Ella barreled through the crowd, yelling Kari’s name, Lupe’s grin widened into something wickedly delighted.

“AYYY—!” she barked out a laugh as Kari disappeared into a wall of enthusiastic affection. “Look at this! The cavalry arrived!”

When Ella pulled her into the hug too, Lupe didn’t even resist — she just leaned into it, one arm hooking around Ella’s shoulders while the other ruffled Kari’s hair with exaggerated affection.

“Damn, mami, you’ve got a whole fan club tonight,” she teased, eyes sparkling as she rocked slightly with the music. “You bring these two everywhere, or is this a special event package?”

When the group hug finally loosened enough for breathing to become optional again, Lupe stepped back half a pace — though she kept one arm casually slung around Kari’s shoulders like she’d claimed her spot.

Her gaze bounced between Nora and Ella with immediate approval.

“First of all,” she said, pointing between them, “Ten outta ten entrance, mami. No notes. Very dramatic. I respect it.”

She gestured broadly around the warehouse.

“And second of all, you picked the right night to show up. The whole place has been going off since like ten.”

At the mention of drinks, Lupe’s grin sharpened.

"Oh, what's a party without drinks, mami,” she declared, already removing her arm from Kari’s shoulders and gesturing toward the folding-table bar. "Come on, rookies. Field trip." She didn’t really wait to see if anyone followed, just pivoted and weaved her way through the crowd with the same effortless confidence she had earlier. A few people greeted her as she passed—someone bumping her shoulder, another trying to hand her a half-empty cup.

Lupe ignored all of them.

“Nah, nah,” she chuckled, waving them off. “Professional at work.”

The makeshift bar looked exactly like it sounded: a folding table, two coolers, a plastic bin filled with ice, and a chaotic assortment of bottles that seemed to have been donated by someone’s older sibling with questionable taste.

Lupe hopped onto the edge of the table as if it were her own.

“Alright,” she announced, grabbing a stack of red cups and quickly setting them down with practiced ease. “Y’all are in luck.”

She opened the cooler, grabbing a bottle, then another, and finally a neon one that glowed oddly under the strobe lights.

“I make a 'special' mix, Mami," she said, voice suddenly conspiratorial. “House recipe.”

She poured without measuring.

Vodka.

Something fruity.

Something intensely blue.

Then a splash from a bottle that looked like it had been repurposed multiple times.

Lupe shot a sly glance at Nora and Ella.

“Don’t worry,” she said sweetly. “Only about... twenty percent dangerous, mami.”

She then shrugged before she slid two cups across the table toward them.

Then she poured another, offering it to Kari.

Kari watched the process quietly, head tilted, eyes tracking each bottle as if solving a chemistry puzzle that really shouldn’t be solved.

When Lupe slid the cup toward her, Kari raised an eyebrow.

“Only "twenty" percent?” she echoed, tilting her head.

She took the drink, swirling it to see the colors blend.

“That seems cautious for you.” Kari rolled her eyes.

Her mouth curved into a slight smile as she looked toward Nora and Ella, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

“Don’t worry,” she added softly. “Lupe’s experiments are usually... survivable.”

A brief pause.

Then Kari raised her cup slightly toward them.

"Usually," she said.

[Blizz]

Current day
Interactions: Tyler Fuck

---

Tommy moved through the crowd of dancing, drunken faces with caution. Anyone could bump into someone else, and get antsy about it. A simple watch it could turn into a drunken fight in front of everyone. And if a fight broke out, he'd just fuck off and go home. If someone tried to make him drink some of that blue sludge he saw at one of the "bar tables," as someone charitably considered them, he'd just fuck off and go home. If someone told him he wasn't actually invited, that he needed to leave before someone got embarrassed? Believe it or not, three tries to get it right, he'd just fuck off and go home. The thrum of the music was obnoxious, the sounds of wails and laughter threatened to give Tommy a migraine, and he was pretty damn sure he smelled something illegal in between the notes of booze and sweat. How did anyone tolerate this long enough for a party to begin and then finish? Did they just get so damn inebriated that they didn't notice the Check Engine lights in their brains? Did they just fucking tough it out? People were fucking weird.

He recognized a few faces. That softball girl, running into the bathrooms that a derelict warehouse seemed to have. Tuyen Doan, not far behind her. He didn't know either of them very well, why would he? He knew plenty of people, but not well. Not personally. They were just faces, not even really acquaintances.

He felt someone poke him, and turned around.

“Wow. Who invited you?”

Paleolithic caveman who throws things far.

Tyler fucking Fox. Tommy craned his head up to look at the taller guy, he didn't have a particularly amused expression on his face. Nobody gave two shits about Tyler beyond his ability to toss a ball and give himself concussions on the field. The guy had an ego he conflated for justification to be annoying in the general vicinity of people who couldn't be bothered to remember his name if he wasn't always shouting about the team. Tommy, being someone who didn't really care about sports, didn't typically hang around in the same circles as Tyler.

So why was he being singled out here?

”Dunno. Must have been a ghost or something,” Tommy remarked. Probably some kid who didn't want the cops blaming them for this, and thought anonymous numbers were good enough for that. ”What about you? Your coach a fan of underage drinking, Fox?” Honestly, who invited him? Tommy could've understood being left out himself, but Tyler? Tyler was just a punk with a half-decent arm. He sure as shit wasn't bringing drugs, he'd get kicked off the team for it. What kind of good vibes was his bitch ass bringing?

[FernStone]

---

Interactions: Kari, Lupe @Evil Ghost Note, Nora @NoriWasHere
Warehouse, the ‘bar’

---

Ella grinned brightly, glad their entrance got the approval of both Kari and Lupe.

She slung one arm around Nora as they followed Lupe to the bar, a bounce in her step and a shake in her hips. After all, it wasn’t a party if she wasn’t dancing at least a little bit!

"Of course she takes us everywhere! Except, y’know, most of summer and all of the classes we don’t share cause she’s much smarter than me at least." Ella said brightly in answer to an earlier question that hadn’t even been directed towards her.

Her eyes widened as Lupe began pulling out all sorts of alcohol, before mixing it together. That was a lot of alcohol. But it was a party. That was the time to drink!

Now, while Ella counted Lupe as a friend through virtue of her being friends with Kari and both being friendly in general, they didn’t actually know each other that well. Being in different years and different clubs meant opportunities to hang out were limited… But Ella knew she liked Lupe a lot! She’d trust her with her life! Probably.

So she was absolutely happy to drink whatever crazy concoction she mixed up. It was just a shame it wasn’t pink… But that wasn’t going to stop her having it!

"A magical girl never backs down from a challenge!" Ella declared, taking her cup with a grin and raising it dramatically into the air in contrast to Kari’s subtle raise. "To the best school year and the bestest friends!"

She tilted her head back, taking a massive first drink. By the time she was done half of the cup’s contents were gone. It had a bit of a kick to it, but it tasted mostly sweet. Like spicy fruit.

"Whoa, it’s so good? How’d you figure that out, Lupe?" She asked with a wide grin, taking another big gulp. "Do you just mix stuff together till it turns out well… Like alchemy! Ooo, do you have any other house recipes? Any that are pink?"

Then she glanced between her two much smaller close friends. "And don’t you two worry… If you drink too much, I’ll carry you both home!"

---

Interactions: Vicky @Atrophy
Warehouse, Bathroom

---

Most people would be surprised to see Victoria Prescott profusely sobbing- Tuyen had heard one or two girls whisper about how the only emotions she felt were glee and competitiveness (which wasn’t even an emotion). They hadn't realised Tuyen was there, otherwise they probably wouldn't have said it in front of her. But Tuyen had seen a Vicky most others didn't see before. She assumed she let down her walls like this in front of all her friends- or maybe it was just Tuyen, because she was such a pushover. She’d never tell anyone and even if she did, no one would listen to her.

And unlike most people, Tuyen didn’t feel any joy in Vicky’s sorrow. She just felt empathy.

Tuyen awkwardly hugged her back, trying not to stiffen up and desperately hoping Vicky couldn’t hear her heart beating faster than it should. If she didn’t, hopefully she’d just think Tuyen was anxious- No, that wasn’t much better, was it? She didn’t want Vicky to think she was anxious, because that could lead to her discovering just how insecure Tuyen felt. She couldn’t let that happen. The best thing to be there for her only friend, and pretend to be as happy as she always did.

She rubbed Vicky’s back comfortingly, albeit somewhat awkwardly. But she was relieved when Vicky pulled back, even if the scrutiny was almost as difficult to deal with. (thoughts)

Tuyen’s breathing evened out again as Vicky actually explained what happened around her sobs, even if it was incredibly muddled and didn’t go with the start of “I broke up with—”. Tuyen didn’t question it. She was too focused on one thing to question it.

Vicky and Chef broke up.

She hated that she felt more than just sadness and sympathy over it. But there was a small burst of hope, disgusting hope, about it. Not joy, at least. Even if she suppressed her own feelings towards Vicky, ones she desperately denied even to herself, she didn’t think it was entirely bad. Chef may have been near the top of the school’s social hierarchy, but he wasn’t good enough for her. He wasn’t smart like she was, or as pretty as she was, or–

Tuyen clamped down on her thoughts, struggling to keep the conflict from her face. It flickered across her face before dying as it should.

“Why aren’t you more upset?” Tuyen’s breath caught in her throat. Had it been obvious? Did she know? She did her best to school her mixed expression into one filled with sympathy, dragging up a little bit of the sadness she normally kept bottled up. And she was upset for her friend. Vicky didn’t deserve this, whatever had happened. But Tuyen did deserve the suspicion. What kind of friend got distracted at a moment like this? She couldn’t even support someone properly. At least Vicky was kind enough to not hold it against her.

Or just drunk enough to come to an incorrect conclusion.

”N-No, he doesn’t think that, at least he probably doesn’t,” Tuyen stammered out, taken by surprise by the question and the vehemence it was asked with. She didn’t know Tyler well enough to say for sure. But he seemed confident enough that if he thought Vicky loved him, he would have said something. But nothing about how they treated each other screamed love. Not that Tuyen really knew what love looked like anymore. ”Someone like him wouldn’t keep quiet about something like that.”

She fumbled in the pocket of her wide legged jeans, pulling out a tissue and holding it up to Vicky to take. If she was willing to let go of Tuyen’s shoulders, at least.

”I don’t think you're in love with Tyler. I know you aren’t… I understand what your relationship with him is like.” Though was she in love with Chef? Did that matter? It shouldn’t, as long as she was happy. It didn’t matter what Tuyen thought about it in the first place. ”I don’t think anyone thinks that… Probably. I’d probably have heard something. You know how people always say stuff around me… But I haven’t heard anything like that.”

She was doing her best to comfort her, at least. Though she didn’t know what to say to help. Her own single breakup hadn’t helped with her barely existent self-confidence, but she hadn’t liked John. It wasn’t the same. What did she even say? She had to say more, at least, didn’t she?

”I’m so sorry, Vicky. You don’t deserve that. He’s lucky to- was lucky to- be with you,” she said quietly, trying her best to stay calm and present rather than shrinking away the longer Vicky held onto her shoulders and stared directly at her. ”I know it’s not the same as having him there, but I’ll stay with you the rest of the party. I won’t leave your side, I promise.”

If she was being honest, Tuyen had hoped Vicky would get drunk enough to forget her existence but not so drunk that she was easily taken advantage of. Then there’d be no one to notice when Tuyen slipped out and home- though Vicky only cared because Tuyen was useful. But now she was clearly too drunk for Tuyen to even consider leaving her. She’d probably have to help her get home later… But that was fine. Stuff like this was why Tuyen had been asked to come along in the first place.

---

Interactions: Camille @Rekkuza, Tyler (driveby) @NoriWasHere, Tommy (driveby) @Blizz
Warehouse

---

“Ugh, this is so lame. Why are we even at this shit ‘party’?” Corey Aquino, one of Lexi’s closest friends and her band’s drummer, groaned around a drag of his cigarette.

“Oh come off it, Corey, like you weren’t all excited thinking you could get with one of the popular girls when they’re sloppy.” Natasha Cooper, Lexi’s other closest friend and their guitarist, snorted. Her eyes narrowed at him, crimson eyeshadow vibrant against her dark skin. She ran one hand through her box braids, which went from black at the roots to bright red at the tips, brandishing a finger at him. “But you just can’t be bothered to wait around for the booze to get to them, huh? Impatient ass.”

“I've already slept with popular girls, there’s nothing to be impatient about!”

“Gwen doesn't count. She only did it cause that slappy burger guy dumped her. That was a pity fuck.”

“Like fuck it was. Tell her, Lex, I'm a catch.”

Lexi laughed under her breath, quite happy to let her friends chat shit while she smoked. She was half paying attention to them, half watching the door for anything interesting going on. She was dressed to make an impression, with a dark red corset crop top and a tight black leather skirt over fishnets. Her slightly oversized leather jacket was slung over her shoulders, keeping off the early autumnal chill while still showing off the figure enhancing outfit underneath. Her dyed black hair was left loose as normal, falling in messy waves past her shoulders.

She leaned against the grungy brick wall of the warehouse to the right of the door, near the corner that the rest of their group was gathered at to smoke. There was about eight of them, with the closest and lead trio near enough to the door to clearly see whoever was going in and out. They weren’t smoking outside out of respect for the people inside, obviously. No, it was so she didn’t have to deal with people wanting some of the ecstasy in her pocket.

“As a pity fuck, I guess.” She shrugged, blood red lips pulling up into a taunting smile. It was broken as she took a swig from a large plastic bottle, filled with a fifty-fifty mix of vodka and coke. She wasn’t dealing with fighting other teens for alcohol at the shitty makeshift bar this early into the night.

“Stop being a bitch, I know you’re lying through your teeth.” Corey shot back, smile matching hers. It was why she was friends with him, after all- why she was friends with both of them. They gave back as good as they got without actually letting it get to them, and gladly lived almost as wild a life as she did. “Just like Tash is lying about this shit not being lame.”

”Aw, did we hit a nerve?” Lex teased. This party was lame in comparison to theirs, with smaller numbers and wilder fun. But the appeal of this party was the fact most of the school was there, and drunk. She had the pick of who to tear down, or push into doing fucked up shit they wouldn’t while sober. She was used to her drink, but plenty of the other teens here weren’t. ”Do you really think I’d waste my time at this shit party if I thought I wasn’t going to have fun? And it’s no fun always doing messy shit without an audience. We’ve got a whole warehouse full of drunk people to mess with- that’s fun, even if we gotta tolerate shit music to do it. But first, let’s get high.”

Lexi smirked, pulling out a bag of discrete white pills from her pocket. Courtesy of her older sister visiting from college, who’d provided the one thing their mum didn’t just have on hand. She took one and popped it in her mouth before passing the bag to Natasha. Her two friends followed suit, and she graciously allowed the rest of their group of punks to have one too. There was still plenty left for another night when it got back to her.

“Speaking of people to mess with, did you see Devout Danny ducking in and out like God’d strike him just for being here? I’m surprised he’s even here,” Corey said.

”Oh, he’ll be here in the hope he can make some poor, drunken souls change their ways. Maybe he’ll even stand up on a chair and preach the word of God to everyone- now that would be fun to watch.”

“I think he’s cute.” Natasha giggled. “I’d love to be the one to corrupt him.”

“Gross.” Lexi fake gagged. “Have a little class, Natasha. At least go for a hot pious prick.”

“Well I did say I find him cute.”

Rolling her eyes, Lexi tilted her head away from her friends and back towards the door. Just in time too. The school's golden couple had just walked out, and it didn’t look like it was so they could find somewhere private to have some fun.

No, it looked like Vicky had brought him outside for a fight. Which was strange considering Chef had been the one leading them out… Whatever, Lexi didn’t care. It was clear Vicky had escalated things, and her boyfriend- ex boyfriend?- was just taking it like a confused little bitch. Then she just got louder and angrier over something.

It was difficult to hear over the blaring music inside and her friends chatting shit, even with Vicky shouting, but one word was said enough that Lexi caught it. Tyler.

Smiling to herself, Lexi watched as Vicky stormed back inside leaving a dejected, confused Chef. It was hilarious to see a football player like that practically deflate.

“Did I just witness what I think I witnessed?” Corey asked with a whistle.

”Oh yeah. Fun’s starting.” Lexi dropped her cigarette butt to the ground, heavy boots stomping on it before continuing on towards the poor, confused man. He was clearly torn over whether to go after her or not- which was probably what she wanted. Lexi wasn’t going to let Vicky get what she wanted.

”Wow, getting dumped at a party? I thought that only happened to losers... You weren’t going to chase after her, were you?” Lexi laughed mockingly. ”And here I thought you couldn’t get any more pathetic.”

She didn’t even wait for his response, heading back inside with Natasha and Corey in tow. Her gaze swept across the drunken crowd, hoping to find the other half of the now broken couple to kick her while she was down. But that bleach blond hair wasn’t anywhere in sight. Probably crawled into a corner to hide… Well, fuck it. She’d find Vicky later.

With a half assed comment Corey broke off to go hassle the stoner corner, while Natasha slipped away towards Gwen and a giggling group of cheerleaders. Undoubtedly to further spread the news, or maybe just get a bit of gossip out of them. Natasha was much better at being a little bit diplomatic compared to Lexi and Corey. Lexi could be if she really wanted to, but she never did. It left her alone, but perfectly comfortable with that. They’d easily find each other later.

Her eyes continued to rove, keenly hunting for other possible targets. Daniel had stumbled into someone Lexi didn’t recognise at all- she looked alt enough that Lexi decided to hang back to see how she reacted. Maybe she wouldn’t be a loser like most of the people here. Maybe she would.

The cringiest anime loving nerd was easy to spout thanks to her loud voice, with that whole group gathered together. Ella was, unfortunately, one of the few people that rarely rose to Lexi’s bait. Lupe too, though she’d succeeded with her a few more times. There was no point going in if the whole group was together. But if she could get Nora or Kari alone… It was worth keeping an eye out.

Another annoyingly impervious person danced close to the bar. Lexi was fairly certain Kersten’s brain had been so addled by weed that they could barely use it. It explained the shit that came from his mouth, at least.

She didn’t get too far through the mass of bodies before she paused, overhearing Tyler and Tommy talking. Two people she’d gladly dig into separately but didn’t want to deal with for long together. Throwing a third into a battle of wits just made things messy in a way that wasn’t enjoyable. But that didn’t mean she couldn’t do a drive by dig before finding someone else to sink her teeth into.

She whistled on her way past the two, lips pulling up into a taunting smile. Her eyes squinted up at Tyler, a languid pleasure like a large cat playing with its prey visible in them. ”So you and Vicky, huh, Tyler? Now that’s a match made in stuck up heaven! I’m surprised, I didn’t think you were bold enough to break up a couple like that.”

Lexi knew for a fact there was nothing going on between Tyler and Vicky, but the virgin idiots that made up the majority of the teens here wouldn’t be able to tell the difference between competitive friendship and simmering sexual tension. But it was enough to put the thought into Tyler’s mind. He was stupid enough to think Vicky liked him. She said it loudly enough for others to hear, but didn’t let him respond before her sharp blue eyes moved to Tommy.

”Don’t go trying to be the next school shooter now the spot’s empty, Timmy.” She continued, purposefully getting his name wrong. ”I know it’s appealing, but just put a bullet to your own head if you want to be that edgy.”

Still smiling, she didn’t bother waiting to see if either comment landed, slipping away into the crowd with little care for any words they had for her. She had a different goal right now for her own fun. She’d get to the edge of the room, where all the sad and lonely losers stayed away because they were sad alone. They were easy targets to bitch at, but also fun to pressure into doing shit they didn’t want to.

A pale, skinny teen with unkempt hair caught her eye. It took a moment to remember his name. Camille, was it? Someone who’d moved here recently enough… From Canada, she vaguely remembered. French Canada? The details were fuzzy, but that seemed right.

In a town like this, everyone knew everyone. Especially when you’d live here all of your seventeen years. People who moved there always ended up the talk of the town, because nothing else interesting ever fucking happened. So Lexi knew who Camille was, even though they’d never actually talked. She’d seen him around here and there. Heard rumours. He was trouble, or some shit. Lexi had heard that about herself plenty of times before.

Obviously it didn’t make her feel any sympathy towards him, or like they were kindred spirits. They clearly weren’t with how he was miserably standing alone nursing a beer.

But trouble was fun.

She moved in beside him, pulling out her packet of cigarettes and slipping one between her fingers. She held out the open packet to Camille, moving in so that she was close enough for it to be uncomfortable without completely invading his personal space.

”Want one?” She asked with a smile, rummaging for her lighter with her other hand. She popped her cigarette between her red lips to light it while still holding out the packet to him. She took a long drag, tilting her head away to blow smoke to the side rather than directly at him. For now. ”Smoking’s a more normal thing for someone like you, right? Or is that just a real french thing?”

She watched him as she talked, testing the waters. Not out of fear for a reaction- but trying to see what hit the mark. Maybe he’d surprise her, and turn out to not be a miserable loner like she’d categorised him as. Her gaze drifted to the side for a moment.

”Most people here are cowards. They act like one drag of a cigarette will kill them, or that they’re parents will catch a whiff and ground them for life. It’s pathetic.” Her eyes snapped back to him. ”Are you a coward like them?”

[Evil Ghost Note]

Lupe watched Ella slam half the drink in one go and let out a sharp laugh.

“Damn, Sailor Moon, okay!” she said, clearly impressed. “Most people test it first. But not yooou. You clearly built dofferent, mami.”

She tapped the side of one of the bottles on the table.

“Recipe’s simple, mami, mix booze, taste it. If it burns like gasoline, adjust. If it tastes like fruit punch that might ruin your life a little?” She shrugged. “Success.”

Beside her, Kari took a smaller sip, studying the drink like she was evaluating a science experiment.

“... Mildly drinkable,” she decided with a roll of her eyes

When Ella asked about pink drinks, Kari glanced sideways at Lupe with a faintly mischievous smile.

“Oh, she has one,” Kari said lightly. “It’s just... historically...” She trailed off with a shrug, “... a little catastrophic.”

Lupe grinned at that, not even denying it.

Then Ella offered to carry them home.

Lupe snorted, bumping Kari lightly with her elbow.

“Can you believe her? The AUDACITY.”

Kari lifted her cup slightly toward Ella, eyes bright with quiet amusement.

“Yeah,” she added. “We might be the ones carrying you in about twenty minutes.”

[Rekkuza]

September 7th
Warehouse
Interactions: Lexi @FernStone

---

He watched her approach from the corner of his eyes. At first he’d hoped she would do like all the other party goers, and simply walk by him on the way to the bar or the bathroom or whatever other corner they were heading to. Then she stopped next to him, and he switched to praying, praying she was just looking for a smoke spot, that this was all a coincidence. Of course, neither Mary nor God bothered to answer his prayers.

”Want one?”

Camille did not flinch. No, he simply… tightened his grip on his can a bit too much. It’s not really flinching if it’s just his hands that reacted, if his face didn’t change, if no one noticed.

He bent down quickly to put down his now crumpled, still half-full beer can. It looked natural, he thought. It’s not like he could have put it down on a table or anything, seeing as there were none near him. The ground would have to do.

The girl was still speaking to him. He only caught half her words, something about the French, and… was she calling him a coward…? His lips tugged down in a subtle frown. He’d give her the benefit of the doubt this time: he might have just misheard her through the obnoxiously loud music.

”...Please speak…” He stopped, frown deepening. What was the right word again…? He was fucking blanking again, goddamnit. He hated how easy it was to forget the right, exact word, it made him sound like an idiot. ”...morre, euh, slow. I am still not verry good wit English."

His eyes flickered down to the opened pack of cigarettes, then her face. She was very eye-catching, with bold makeup, and some admittedly very nice clothes. A small trickle of jealousy made its way through his mind. He wished he could have a nice jacket like hers. Hell, her jacket might even fit him as it is, she was a bit shorter than him, but not by that much, and their shoulder widths seemed pretty similar…

Ah, wait. She was offering him something. A cigarette. Why? What game was she playing? Why come to him out of anybody in the room? Did she want something from him? What it a trap? No, no, calm down, she might just be curious about you. Might just want to learn who the weirdo is, before ditching him to go back to her friends. Not everything has to have a hidden motive (except when it does—).

He blinked, still staring at her, as he considered his options. It’s not like he had never smoked before. He had, on a few occasions, gotten hold of a pack or two. They stank and tasted awful, but nicotine was nicotine, and healthy lungs be damned, they did calm him down somewhat.

Unfortunately, they were also surprisingly expensive. He’d only stopped when his meagre savings ran dry, and he couldn’t afford them anymore.

”...Tank you,” he mumbled, inwardly cringing at how even those two simple words sounded harsh and stilted. He picked a smoke out of the pack without looking, and placed the filter between his teeth with ease. ”I need a lacterr,” he pointed out, hand stretched open, waiting for the girl to hand over her lighter.

He kept staring, even while waiting, his eyes only occasionally flitting to the teeming crowds a small ways away. She was doing the same to him, only more subtly. He could both see and feel her own gaze, mixed with the hundreds of other pairs of eyes that would glance their way, most accidental, some perhaps intentional. What she was looking for in him, he didn’t know. He didn’t like not knowing. Probably, she was looking for the same thing everyone else was, a weakness, a proof of something wrong with him, something she could take advantage of—

No, no, no! Calm the hell down. The skies were clear outside, he saw them, and yet you’d think they were choked with clouds with how un-clear his mind was right now. He came here to meet people, and here someone was, meeting him. It could even be nice. He could play the social game, at least a little bit. Of course, he’d keep an eye on everyone, couldn’t let his guard down too much, that’s just good sense, but he could, like, introduce himself. Like a normal person.

”My name iz Camille.” See? That was easy. He even remembered to smile a little bit. ”How arre you call-ed?”

[Evil Ghost Note]

The warehouse door squeaked open with a tired metallic sound before shutting behind Isabelle. She wore a cropped rust-colored knit top, high-waisted dark jeans, and a light denim jacket, paired with scuffed black platform Converse that suited a crowded warehouse party. Minimal gold jewelry—a thin chain necklace, small hoops, and a simple ring-added just enough detail to make the outfit look deliberate without attracting too much attention. She hesitated inside the doorway. The noise hit her; as did the heat, the bass, the scent of sweat and cheap liquor mixed with old brick and dust.

Lights flickered irregularly across the walls. Someone shouted near the speakers, followed by brief laughter. Isabelle didn’t move right away. She carefully assessed her surroundings, noting the exits, windows, gaps in the crowd, and loose extension cords on the floor. Her gaze fixed on the center, where a familiar figure moved through the chaos naturally—Claire O’Sullivan. Even from afar, Isabelle could tell she was in charge, commanding subtly rather than loudly.

Host. Useful.

She stepped forward but paused, her body already in motion. She blinked, brow tightening as if she’d forgotten something. A fleeting, strange sensation like catching up to herself momentarily lingered, then vanished. “Huh.” She didn’t dwell on it.

Instead, she slipped smoothly into the crowd, navigating the shifting gaps without pushing or shoving. People instinctively moved around her. Reaching a pillar near the center of the floor, she stopped, resting her hand on the cool concrete, feeling the bass vibrate softly through it. She observed the scene: a couple arguing by the wall, someone spilling a drink near the dance area, the makeshift bar gathering a crowd.

Her reflection sparkled briefly in a dusty window across the room—then, for an instant, it seemed she was already watching herself. The thought disappeared before settling. Isabelle exhaled quietly, leaning against the pillar.

“Alright,” she whispered, “let’s see what this turns into.”

[NoriWasHere]

---

Current day
Interactions: Daniel
Outfit: Normal

---

Suddenly, the room was spinning, which was weird because Lynn had not yet had a drink.

Her vision caught the sight of kids all around her growing towards the ceiling, and she shifted her eyes towards the painful sensation on her side. She spotted a boy, a confused-looking boy, after he had already impacted her side. Everything was happening too fast to see the reason why this boy had decided that today was Lynn’s day to die. Was this a hazing ritual for new kids at this school? Was it more of an accident? Or was it because this boy had a habit of tackling girls, and if so she would need to quickly figure out who the protectors of the school was. One thing was certain, and that was this fall would eventually come to a painful end, and that painful end was coming any second.

Lynn impacted the ground with a soft thud. It was neither overly painful nor was it particularly embarrassing. Thankfully, the floor was only kinda gross at this point of the party, and not the dirty and sticky mess that the spilled drinks would bring before long. She would still need to wash these clothes thoroughly when she got home, but it was not like anything was visible or staining. Still. It sucked to be on the ground right now. Lynn rolled her body until she was sitting more upright, with her feet planted firmly on the ground and her hands pushing her upper body away from the mess. It was here she caught sight of her assailant. The guy before her had a very soft face and fluffy hair. He seemed out of place at a party like this. Lynn could only speculate why someone like this was at a party like this. Yet no matter which train of thought she rode, it never quite made sense. He could have been a nice guy who simply wanted to experience the thrill of a night filled with music and alcohol, but why would a nice guy not watch where he was walking? He could have been a nice guy who simply wanted to create a problem and then offer the solution. Her eyes lowered to his hands and… he wasn’t offering her a hand up. Really. After knocking a girl over he wasn’t offering her a hand. Really. So he wasn’t a nice guy.

"I'm sorry! I didn't mean to knock into you! That's my bad!"

Oh, he was just awkward. Awkward was fine with Lynn. That meant her earlier assumption about him being new to the party scene might have been right, and she instantly wondered if he was overstimulated. That would explain the lack of manners in offering her a hand, which she was clearly miffed about. Her eyes narrowed as she locked in on his hand, yet the intensity quickly gave way to a quick chuckle and open eyes. Of course, she would end up on the floor of her first party within the first month in a new town, which was happening only a few months after her entire family was brutally killed right in front of her eyes. Because why wouldn’t her life keep giving her hardship? The boy was innocent in this, this much she knew, and as such she decided to let him off the hook for not offering a hand up and hopefully get off on the right foot from here. She offered her right hand up with a charming smile as her eyes rose to meet his.

“You’re forgiven, party boy,” Lynn paused as her head crooked to the side and her smile lingered, “help a girl up?” It’s the least he could do.