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In Edenridge → 5 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
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A @LovelyComplex & @Venus Collab
Featuring: Danilo Belmonte & Tiffannie Taccone

Watching his mother grapple for the happiness she once felt before, trying to find her path and peace, Danny found himself taking deep breaths in the bathroom, building up the courage to do his routine visit. He knew how scared she was. How terrified of the idea of her breast cancer getting out to the public because she truly didn’t want her battle to be twisted. If anything, she wanted people to see the real and authentic her, that they’ve seen at her restaurant. The one and only Silvia Belmonte, from the Big Apple, who served the best homemade pizza in the whole goddamn neighborhood. Not the dying woman she was now.

In Edenridge, unless you had cruel intentions, you do not control the narrative. She wasn’t blind to the world around her and how most of her life her husband was involved with something that could’ve gotten her and her kids killed. Even if you can be saved, you’re innately drawn to sin.

Silvia knew a sinner when she saw one. That’s why she wanted to help them. Each person deserves the chance to be saved. However, she wasn’t naive nor was she short-sighted. She knew some people were beyond redemption, as sad as that sounds. They couldn’t be saved because that defining moment was long gone.

In chaos theory, there is this thing called the butterfly effect and it is the idea that a small change can make much bigger changes happen. One small incident can have a big impact on the future. Would her death help her family or break them? Silvia truly believed that there were moments in people’s lives that could change everything, and that perhaps, we do live another timeline, in a parallel universe.

Prior to her cancer escalating, her husband thought she watched too much TV. Cinema gave her all these fantastical ideas of time travel, time loops, and alternate timelines. This year, Taz latches onto those notions in fear of losing his wife, forever. If she could continue to lift up such a shattered community, she would. Sadly, she knew she was weak. Each and every day she could feel her body, her mind, and her soul become a little more powerless.

Silvia was tired.

Approaching the door, Danny all dressed up for his night with his ex, and their peers, for an event he can only assume would be emotionally charged, the future man-of-the-house stopped in his tracks. He stared at the door and swallowed deeply. Don’t cry. After knocking on it, he could hear a faint, yet serene voice beckoning for him to come in. Nodding to himself, he reached for the doorknob. Once he entered, Danny closed the door behind him.

No one in the Belmonte family was ready to accept losing their rock. It was so much easier to act like the pain didn’t exist. It was so easy to push all the dark bullshit on the back burner and act like nothing has changed. That you were in control and your life wasn’t so incredibly unpredictable. It wasn’t just Danny refusing to acknowledge that something was wrong. No. Everyone in his family was extremely vulnerable right now, but when they left those front doors, they brought their sense of control back, even if it was clearly fleeting.

There was no way in hell they’d break. There was no way in hell they’d have the community worry about them. How could you seek security when you’re so used to being security for everyone else? If only they could let their mind escape. Go to a tropical paradise and forget all this pain that filled their hearts, but Danny knew, he just knew, the only way to get better was to face this beast mano-a-mano. No matter how terrified he was himself. He, his sisters, and his father could no longer bury the despair and with their mother constantly begging for morphine, not wanting to feel the hurt anymore, and the letters, these stupid fucking letters, they can’t forget. Life doesn’t want them to.

After thirty minutes, Danny quietly exited his parents’ bedroom. Instead of despair, he wore a face of apathy. When he felt triggered, and the loving bond he desperately needed, a tender kind of love, was nowhere in reach, he decided to survive. Cool and indifferent. Consistent in his morality. Consistent in his way of living. Consistent in being strong, because he had no other choice. After making his way downstairs, he followed a sing-song voice, in hopes that could help lift his spirits before being in a car, alone, with his ex.

The voice led him to the home's ample kitchen, where a blonde girl in bright pink hot-pants and a black T-shirt one size too small was mumbling a song under her breath and dancing in front of the stainless steel refrigerator while opening the lid of her favorite ice cream pint. His cousin Tiffannie was the type to be in good spirits the majority of the time, but today she seemed to be a little more chipper than usual. She placed the lid on the granite countertop, grabbed a spoon from a nearby drawer and took a few bites of the chocolatey concoction, never once pausing her singing and matching choreography. It was only after she stumbled mid-twirl that her eyes fell on Danny, and she jumped and yelped a little in surprise.

"Daaaaannyyyyyyy!" she whined, her cheeks flushing lightly. "Why do have to be such a creep, standing in the corner all silent like that? You scared me!" she told the man, pouting and taking another bite out of her ice cream pint.

Raising an eyebrow at the vibrant blonde he was blessed to call his cousin, Danny crossed his arms and leaned up against the rim of the kitchen archway. Disregarding the stalker comment because he wasn’t one and even if there was part of him that did investigate some things he would never admit that to her, Danny smiled, “I heard a pretty song. It led me to an overly happy Lil’ Peach. What’s got you in such a good mood, anyways?”

A mischievous smile spread across Tiffannie's face. "Oh, you know! Life. It's wonderful, isn't it?" she answered in a singsong voice, giving another little shimmy before taking another bite of her ice cream. It was then when his appearance downed on her, and her perfectly arched brows furrowed together. "Are you going out tonight?" she asked him, her tone growing suspicious. "You better not be going off to a party without me!"

“You know I wouldn't.” Danny was quick to protest. Was it so wrong of him to not wear active wear and look good in front of his class? Yeah, he even put the good cologne on because it’s been a minute since most of them were under the same roof, assuming they would all attend tonight. “I’m picking up an old friend and we’re going down memory lane.” Okay, that sounded weird and misleading, and it fuelled the fantasies of the overly-imaginative cousin currently wiggling her eyebrows at him.

Clearing his throat, he left the archway and stood beside the island. Nervously releasing a cough, he breathed, “The letters, Tiff. I guess someone has some answers? So yeah, I’m going. I think I need to? I don’t know. Do I look okay?”

The girl nodded enthusiastically. "Mhm! You look amazing," she sweetly complimented her cousin, skipping over to him to wrap him up in a quick hug, trying to not get any ice cream on his polished clothes in the process. "You smell good, too," she noted in approval, deeply inhaling his spicy cologne. Tiffannie had the nose of a bloodhound, so it was easy for her to pick up on the fact that Danny had upped the ante for the night by using his expensive cologne. Whoever this girl was, she was really lucky. Her cousin was clearly planning on getting laid tonight.

"Who's the lucky girl?" she asked curiously, digging into her frozen dessert pint again.

Tiffanie had this nature about her that caused Danny to lose his train of thought faster than she made any men get hard. Without even thinking, he started saying his ex’s name, “Mar—” but when he realized what he was doing, he finished his answer with a lie, “—cela.” Fuck. Uncontrollably blushing now, Danny decided he needed to back away and leave the premise immediately. “So yeah, thanks for the compliments, they’re great, you’re great. I’ll… I’ll see you later! Bye!”

"Nuh-uh!" Tiffannie cried out, slamming her ice cream pint on the countertop and racing after Danny, her bare feet barely making any noise against the cool hardwood floors.

Thanks to the girl's long legs and her quick instincts, Baby Peach caught up with Danny before he could reach the door to the garage. And before he could stop it, Tiff was wrapping her pink-manicured hand around his arm in a surprisingly strong, vice-like grip and turning him around.

"You don't get to lie to my face and think you can get away with it!" she argued, the pout back in her lips now. "Marcy's been over here to hang out with Mira thousands of times, and you guys have never said anything to each other beyond the blandest of 'hey's. You really expect me to believe you're dressed like that and smell like that to go out with Marcy? I call bullshit."

With how intense Tiff was prying in his private love life, Danny found himself biting his tongue out of frustration, conflict, and anger. He didn’t like the feeling of being cornered and this is exactly why he would never tell his cousin about Marco, or Francis, or any crushes he’s had of the same sex. She didn’t know when to close her trap. “Lie or not, it’s none of your business.” His voice went down an octave, as he threatened, “Get. Off. Of. Me.”

They were doing so well up until now and this might have been an overreaction on his part, but what did she know? She didn’t know what he was going through. Tiffannie did what she pleased with hardly any repercussions and if her actions did have consequences? She had people always protecting her. He held back his urge to manhandle his cousin out of his way and gave one of the darkest glares he’s ever given her, showing she hit a spot she probably never knew he had in him.

Tiffannie's eyes widened as big as her mouth did, and she let go of Danny's arm out of pure shock. In the eighteen years she had known her cousin, he had never spoken or even looked at her in the way he was doing now. She could feel her face getting red with the million emotions going through her, and her blue eyes immediately filled up with hot, burning tears. Her lower lip trembled dangerously for a few short seconds before she ultimately burst into tears, turning on her heel and storming out of the room. Her quick footsteps echoed across the kitchen and up the stairs as she went, followed by the sound of the guest bedroom getting closed a little louder than usual. Meanwhile, the pint of ice cream stood abandoned upon the kitchen countertop, a small puddle of condensation forming underneath it.

Once his cousin was out of the room, Danny lifted his hands and ran them down his face, stretching it a bit, in exasperation. He wanted to scream. The Belmonte boy took his resentment for himself out on an innocent person. All Tiffannie wanted to do was root for him because he hadn’t gotten out in a couple of months. Instead of being honest that he was seizing this opportunity to rebuild a bridge with his male ex, he got defensive. What the hell was he protecting anyways? His livelihood? His honor? Why couldn’t he just be honest with her, with himself, and everyone else?

He was scared and that was pathetic.

This might’ve been irrational of him but he worried if he did reveal his interest for the same sex his mother would die unhappy and his father would blame him for her death. Why couldn’t he be like Francis? Open and upfront about his sexuality, regardless of what others think. Or Marco? That boy had no shame and it was so admirable.

Grumbling to himself, Danny turned back from the garage door and cleaned the kitchen counter, tossing his cousin’s ice cream away. He made a note to buy her more, as he wiped down the dirty surface. “You’re a fucking idiot,” he scolded himself.

One thing he did get lucky in was how no one was really around to hear any of that. If any of his sisters were around, or worse, his father, this would’ve been a bigger scene. Checking his wrist watch, he found the excitement he had once before, completely gone. Maybe this was stupid of him. The reasons he had to go to this thing tonight didn't matter anymore, not even giving closure to Marco was on his mind. Yet, he wasn’t one to change plans last minute so he forced himself to go to his car.

Time to get this night done and over with.

“A good day gone sour. Fucking great.”

In Edenridge → 5 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
FT. Journalist Wesley Silo @BrutalBx


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Pre timeskip, 5:59 AM on the dot:

When Kylee Grimm found out there was an audacious reporter from Boston in town, she was quick to ask her father for help. She could’ve found out where he was staying on her own, or even contacted Lincoln to use his sick computer skills to trace the exact coordinates of this guy’s cellular device, but that was more work than not. Her brother had yet returned from Boston and knowing him, he would ask for a favor. Kylee did not have time for a quid pro quo. Daddy had resources right at hand. He was fast and efficient. Why waste her time going through her brother when she could just go to the man that loved her the most?

The mayor’s youngest daughter didn’t want to lose this opportunity, nor did she want anyone to interview him first. Her father was surprisingly agreeable, even validating her, saying it would be a good idea to get to know this outsider, who might disrupt the peace of his town.

Taking a deep sip of her matcha tea, straight from Cafe Rochambeau, Mr. Beau knew how early Kylee got up so he made an exception to have something prepared for her before the cafe’s open hours, the self-involved princess prepared to go on her livestream, in one of the studios at Absolute Sound. Main Street Music of Edenridge was one of the businesses her father invested in, so the studios themselves were industry standard and she preferred to separate work from play.

Beside her, with an assortment of donuts in front of him, was the star of the day. Wesley Silo. Kylee would be lying if she said she didn't find this man appealing. Mr. Silo was that kind of handsome that started with the depth and intrigue in his hazel eyes and went to his perfectly sculpted face that got into your bones, causing you to shiver at how natural he smiled. From there, you start noticing other things, like how his voice quickened when he sparked with excitement, clearly thrilled to unravel the many tragedies of her home. Still, this was not the time to mix play with work. She would bury her admiration to uncover a bit more of this man. A man who wanted to get involved with something far bigger than him.

This episode she’d call: Cloaked Mysteries. He was already debriefed of how things went and for the most part, Kylee was all about having her conversations with her guest flow organically. She didn’t want to force anything. Truths cannot be found if there is a script. Of course, Kylee never came unprepared, she had questions on the back of her mind, but if she thought of something better, she would certainly scrap her notes if it meant delving into something compelling and worth the listen.

Turning her broadcast on once the clock striked 6 AM, she let her intro music fade in, with added sound design, when it was time for her to talk, Kylee gingerly faded the sound to a low volume, as she enthusiastically chimed in, “Hello everybody! Kylee Grimm here on Eden Angels for the next couple of hours of my show that’s all about keeping you informed, entertained, and involved with our post-apocalyptic home!” Pause. Giggling, she continued, “...Kidding! You know I love it here. As always, Edenridge is where our story begins and we’re on Dawn Patrol!” By the time she finished her spiel, the edit version of the song had vanished completely.

Glancing over at the reporter, giving him a cue with her eyes, which was her way of saying, you’re almost up, Kylee announced his presence, “Today is a special day. We don’t usually have someone from outside of town here, but today, today we do and I’m so excited! I hope you’re ready because I’d like to introduce you all to Wesley Silo, Mr. Boston Reporter.”

Clapping sound bit.

“Hey, Mr. Silo, why don’t you tell us a little bit about yourself and what brings you to our little home,” Kylee beamed at the man beside her.

"Happy to be here, Kylee.” Wes was not at all comfortable doing this type of thing. He was a nerd, a joke, a social outcast smothered in his Jewish curls. Yet if this was what he had to do to get his story, then that’s what Wesley was going to do. "Well, as you rightly stated I’m a journalist from Boston, born and raised there, go Patriots! I write for the Globe and I love a good mystery which is why I’m here.”

Wesley moved his mouth away from the microphone for a moment to take a sip from his water bottle before returning to face the brunette. "Five years ago, Edenridge was famous only for being the place where the Hangman Killer Alex Lewis was caught. That was it. Now here in twenty twenty one, it’s mere utterance brings feelings of dread and discomfort, like Columbine. In such a short space of time this place has had such a myriad of tragedy and I’m here to find out why. I don’t believe in ghosts Miss Grimm but if I did, I’d say this town has its fair share.”

Raising an eyebrow, engaged and curious of what the future holds for her guest, Kylee smirked, “I’d like to challenge your thoughts and quote Steve Crain, from The Haunting of Bly Manor, ‘Ghosts are guilt, ghosts are secrets, ghosts are regrets and failings, but most times, most times a ghost is a wish’. Are you truly ready to discover the many ghost stories Edenridge has to share and all the monsters lurking behind the veil? You do realize you’re going to make people angry, right?” When she finished her spiel, she took a contemplative sip of her drink.

"I’m a journalist, Miss Grimm. Making people angry comes with the territory.” Wes had spent much of his youth getting beaten down by bullies and much of his early journalism career being told no or that he wasn’t good enough. "There are strange things afoot here in Edenridge. Crime rates are ridiculously high. Kids are killing kids and the sheer amount of unsolved deaths alone would fill about five seasons of Cold Case. Case in point, the letter sitting to your right right now,” The Bostonian motioned with his eyes to a small slip of paper that was sitting just to Kylee’s left. "If I’m not mistaken, that is one of Charlie Decker’s journal entries which are being sent to Eden residents. I’d like to figure out the who, the how and the why behind that to start.”

“Whoever is behind these letters is kind of sadistic. You’re not the only one who wants to know. All this town is trying to do is heal, but someone doesn’t want us to forget,” Kylee reached for the letter, letting her hand run on Charlie’s handwriting, “It’s funny. How much Charlie Decker saw, yet kept inside. Sad, really. That it led him to wound this place in a way that no one can fix. I have a few theories of who it might be, or might know.”

Putting the letter closer to Wes, Kylee nonchalantly inquired, “Have you taken time to check out the Southside? That’s where his family is. It’s hard for me to believe none of them would know something. The girl that was practically his girlfriend, even if they never became official. Penelope James. She owns a few of his things. Or how about his, I think, best friend? Mordechai “Decky” Boaz. He was quick to leave town after it all fell apart, but I hear he’s back. There’s also that hot mess of a girl, Jade Taylor, that he kept close at one point in time. If I were you, I’d start there, but that’s just me.”

Wesley was impressed with the girls hutzpa as his grandmother would say. To name and shame on a popular broadcast such as this and risk the potential of alienating herself from everyone was a bold move. "You’re very quick to point fingers at those closest to Charlie. Yet whose to say it’s not someone from your side of town? Someone who discovered everything and felt different? If I’m not mistaken, your own father, the illustrious mayor of this place, his entire campaign was based around ridding this place of crime but the Serpents as they’re called are still going strong. There could be someone in his camp pushing this stuff out there to make his failures look better.”

When the reporter brought up her father, her eyes glinted with fire and spite, but she was quick to keep that fake smile on, beaming, and contest his thoughts, “Well if you think you can do my father’s job better, be my guest. As if cleaning crime in this town is just a hop, skip, and a jump away,” Kylee rolled her eyes, annoyed, but it was her job to press on, “It could very well be someone that lives in my neighborhood, I never said it wasn’t. But in order to find a lead I think it’s better to start from the beginning and work your way through the town. You can’t assume who Charlie Decker associated with on the northside, but you do know people who knew the ghost that still haunts us today. I applaud you if you decide to start with the founding families or my dad! That’s ambitious of you, but right now you got nothing. You don’t even know who Charlie was. So what makes you think you’ll actually figure out the case before any one of us?”

This was why he didn’t do media; Wes knew that he had messed up and by challenging the beloved mayor of this place that he was probably making himself into yet another Edenridge pariah. Still he could not keep his mouth shut, that just wasn’t his style. "I don’t pretend to know who Charlie was. I have seen all the same journals you have and I’ve read them and reread them and followed every possible train of thought that I could. If anything you and others like you have a one up over me when it comes to this considering you were there. The difference is, this is my job, to find the truth and the truth of the matter; in my opinion, this whole thing isn’t even about Charlie. Once again, somebody is using him and the things he knew for their own gain. Whoever is doing this, isn’t trying to redeem Charlie Decker. They’re using what he knew to expose everybody else.”

What was this? Some comic book story where there is a mastermind behind it all? Kylee, still young in her own way, just didn’t get why this reporter thought this was more than just bad luck. Edenridge was an unlucky town and death happened. It was part of life. “That’s one big conspiracy you have there,” She sipped her drink once more, before continuing, “I get that these letters are premeditated and have a clear purpose, but what if it really isn’t that deep? What if someone is just mad and trying to spread chaos? Based on the letters thus far, it makes this whole town out to be the enemy. We all failed Charlie Decker. We failed Alison Davis. Amanda Caulfield. Maxine James. All those that died the day of the shooting. What could someone really gain from some sad boy’s death? Even if he did know more than he should’ve, I still don’t get how that can help anyone. All it does is cause us to not trust one another.”

"Maybe that’s the point, as you say, to create chaos. Either way, this is what I’m here to figure out.” Wes took another sip from his water and glanced down at the letter once again. Those little slips of paper were the key to everything. The police had tried to track them. They had tried DNA. Nothing was pinging back. That was a mystery unto itself to unravel. "It’s my sincerest hope that the people of this town welcome me in. I’m not here to drudge up old feelings and bad memories. I just want the truth. I’m here to help.”

“I suppose that’s admirable of you. I’m sure, whether they’re ready or not, there are people who want closure. No matter how much it hurts, people deserve the truth so all I can do is wish you the best of luck,” scribbling a quick thought down, hardly readable because of how tiny she wrote (it had to do with her talking to someone about something), Kylee mused to her guest, “Can I assume you’re going to be at the school tonight?”

"Maybe. I’ve got a few other leads to check today besides…” He bowed his head towards the girl and smiled, "There’s already going to be one reporter there getting all the juicy details.” Wes casually glanced at his watch, knowing full well that the interview was nearly over thank god and he could get in with his investigation.

He did have a point. She would be there and if he was willing to share information with her, she could do the same for him. Still, Kylee did wonder if bringing an outsider into all of this would benefit anyone. Then again, maybe an outsider was just what Edenridge needed. “You’re right about that. I do appreciate you taking time from your busy schedule to talk to me. I hope we can stay connected. Who knows what the other may find! Now, listeners, we’re entering our intermission so please listen to some sweet vibes, starting with Ghost by Au/Ra & Alan Walker.”

After switching the broadcast to play a pre-prepared playlist, Kylee put her tea down, stood up, and apologized, “I’m sorry if I came off strong! Sometimes I get carried away and you mentioned my dad… I’m sorry!”

Following the smaller girl's lead, Wesley stood up to his full lanky height and smiled, "Please I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bring your father into this. Sometimes my mouth decides to write cheques that it can’t cash. I have a habit of letting my two hundred mile an hour brain dictate my words.” Scratching the thin fuzz beneath his chin, the reporter entertained a thought before reaching into his tan blazer and handing Kylee his card. "In case you have any information you want to share. I think with a talented insider like you, my job could be a whole lot easier. We could really make a difference together. Just think about it.”

Holding his card between her pointer and middle finger, examining it, Kylee twinkled in eagerness. The age difference was transparent between these two, from experience to attitude, but that didn't mean they didn't share a common goal. Plus, he made her feel like she could be a valuable asset to him and that’s what she cared about more than anything in the world.

“I’ll give it some thought, Mr. Silo. If I do give you a call, that’s a BIG IF, I want ice cream,” she winked at the journalist, before checking the time and as fast as she let him in, she kicked him out of the studio, “It’s been great having you! I still got a show to host. Have a good rest of your day, sir, and beware of all the ghosts watching you. OooooOoOoOooooo!”

After closing the door behind her, Kylee leaned up against it, dwelling on the interview that just transpired. She should be more worried about the repercussions, but she was too busy immersing herself in the emotional complexity of social ether and all the fascinating points that Mr. Silo brought to the table.

A man who didn’t believe in ghosts.

“We’ll see how long that lasts.”

In Edenridge → 5 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
In Edenridge → 5 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
@BrutalBx @Venus

In Edenridge → 5 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
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An Awkward-Fun-Silly Collab with @LovelyComplex & @metanoia

Everything in Marco hurt.

As the bright morning rays hit him on his face, practically blinding him, the brisk chill that came with it only served as a reminder that Mother Nature was often unforgiving to those who abuse it.

Or in his case, Mother Nature was living vicariously through his mother, Marlena Castillo-Brady.

He stayed up long past when his body was begging him to sleep. He remained awake long past when his brain advised him to sleep. Both were screaming louder than a bloodhound when it was upset, more violent than an abused pit, yet he couldn’t bring himself to quit the game.

And then another. And another and another.

Before long, Marco was neck-deep into double digits when it came to how many games he played, how many matches on Summoner’s Rift and even ARAM just for the kicks. He loved that game so much that when it came time for him to finally sleep and when he decided he had, had enough, that’s when all hell broke loose. And that’s why he had just come back from taking Buster, the family Golden Retriever back in.

Woof woof

“At least someone’s having a good morning,” Marco commented, looking down at the slobbering hound as he let him back inside through the side gate door that led to the backyard.

As he closed it, he could hear the not-so-silent footsteps Buster made against the concrete, the relieved sounds of his barks filling the silence of that his immediate presence left behind. In some way, that provided Marco with the peace of mind as he dangled the mail keys around his left index finger, twirling successfully and slid it into their mailbox when he got there.

Looking inside, there was nothing but junk.

Well, Emil’s Muscle Fitness came in, but Marco wasn’t in the mood to fetch that for him.

As he turned around, the scent of something familiar in the air, though it was probably just the brisk summer morning air, Marco found himself gawking at a familiar sight.

Across the way, wearing a simple tank and shorts, albeit doing way more than it should have, there he was: jogging through the neighborhood like clockwork.

Danny Belmonte.

How long had it been since Marco saw him? Well, probably not long since he’s seen him jog regularly for the past few weeks. Of course, Marco never stopped him. The wound from when he left Marco in a state of deceptively-hidden heartbreak, though not as fresh as it was last year, was very present. But time healed that wound somewhat and he was in a place emotionally where he could see Danny without being painfully reminded of that day when his former lover rejected him.

And as he ran by, off in the direction of Godmother’s Sandwich Shop, which was a bit of ways away but it wasn’t that far of a walk, jog, wobble if you happened to be recovering from a savagely bad leg injury. But really! Who is actually keeping track?

With a curse escaping his lips like the breath that Danny stole as he strutted by, Marco grimaced into a pace that was at least three-times faster than his doctor recommended he walk. Coming off of his injury, he was advised to take it easy, to not put so much pressure on his leg.

Trust me, Doc. It’s not his leg that’s having the work out here.




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Maybe a half mile later and practically all of the excess energy that Marco had leftover from the three or four cans of Dr Pepper now gone, a bell dinged over him as Marco rounded the corner.

Out of breath and leaning against the brick foundation of some building, Marco had to take a breather. Brisk walking wasn’t something he should be doing, but in the few weeks he’s actually been able to walk without a cane or crutch, it was freeing in a way. But that didn’t mean he was in any condition to keep up with a hell of a jogger that his ex-lover was.

Speaking of which, Marco took in a few deep breaths and scanned for him.

And low and behold, sitting about ten feet away, at a table that had an enticing chair opposite of him, Marco sighed as he took off into a walk again.

And as the chair screeched across the concrete pavement of the sidewalk, Marco plopped down onto it like his entire body was a sack of flour that was carelessly dropped on the floor.

“Whew.” He breathed out, lifting up the menu, scanning it as if it was why he took an uninvited spot across from Danny. “I’m-po-oped!” He commented, his words spacing out as his racing heart didn’t allow him to speak his thoughts completely without deep inhaling and exhaling.

Up until this point, Danilo Belmonte had no idea there was a puppy tailing him. Even at this point, he thought this was all coincidental. His sister’s shop was open to the public. It wasn’t like he could claim it as his own private sanctuary of sandwiches. Still, was he expecting this? Was he mentally prepared to hear his ex’s voice? Especially this close in proximity. As his mind stuttered, his attention going from his phone to the boy hiding behind the menu, Danny found himself at a loss for words. Instead of saying anything, he paused Hail & Fire’s new single on SoundCloud, placed his phone on the table, and reached forward. Letting his hand have a mind of its own, he steadily pressed the menu down so he could see his face.

When his eyes confirmed the person in front of him, because even though Danny knew who it was, he still had a hard time believing it, the once great Casanova stood still and stared. He found himself unexpectedly in shock and there was a stillness within him. His inability to react made him feel all the more stupid. He should’ve known this day was coming. He did. He just didn’t think it would be today, or tomorrow, or this week even!

His eyes locked with his ex’s over the breakfast table and for a moment, he could imagine some of the best memories he shared with him. Memories Danny did a fantastic job on burying up until today. The boy in front of him was a goofball, with a phenomenal smile. Marco put his whole heart in whatever he set his mind to. Most importantly though? He looked past Danny’s flaws, which unfortunately, were many.

Fuck.

As if God knew he needed a savior, Cat came out and hit the back of her brother’s head. Whack. “Marco! It’s so good to see you!”

“...”

“I seem to be interrupting something...” Caterina was quick to deduce, all the while smirking with her natural sex appeal.

“You’re not,” Danny was quick to interject. He wasn’t going to let his sister get carried away with her theories of how her baby brother spent his days and all the drama that ties into it. Leaning back, trying to hide how uncomfortable he felt, Danny cleared his throat and tried to speak up. Unfortunately, he was too slow and his loquacious, minx of a sister was back at it again.

“It’s been so long since you’ve visited the main house. Mom asks about you all the time! Did you know that Danny—”

“And that’s enough from you. I’ll just have the classic, porchetta di ariccia. As for him,” Danny glanced over and instinctively found himself going back to old habits, “Irish reuben? Or… something new?” Internally, he found himself screaming. He remembered his usual AND he was acting like junior year never ended. Instead of showing any signs of panic, he simply gleamed a forced smile at this evil woman that liked toying with him.

“Is that what you want, hun? Seems like my BROTHER forgot his manners,” Cat sassily crossed her arms, not really wanting to hear Danny talk. She heard enough of his voice daily. It was clear that this Belmonte woman, who exuded dominance and temptation, had not seen Danny’s friend, at least not like this, for months. A year even. Probably even longer. She lost track of time, seeing how her home life wasn’t perfect and she was too busy using her business as an excuse to not deal with her problems.

Relieved. Danny was relieved that his sister lost her train of thought and was back to focusing on her job instead of spreading LIES. Or whatever it is she wanted to tell his ex. Danny knew it was nothing but trouble. SHE was nothing but trouble.

“Has he?” Marco laughed, taking a moment to platonically admire the beauty that was Cat. Hard to believe she was only his sister. It was truly a wonderful thing, life that could have people so far in age yet connect them on the same branch. Marco being the oldest between him and his two siblings, he didn’t necessarily have the pleasure of having such an older sibling. “But yes, your brother knows me like my Ma does.” Another laugh and he set down the menu. “Irish Rueben with extra sauerkraut.” He was already imagining consuming that sandwich the minute it was set down in front of him.

With a comforting family vibe and a charming yet firm way of speaking, Cat grabbed the menus from the two boys and politely asked, “Water for the both? I don’t want to take up too much of your time, Marco. I’m sure you and my brother have a lot to talk about—”

“—we don’t,” Danny exasperatedly sighed.

“Danilo Valerio Belmonte.” Curtly, the older woman hissed. What has gotten into him? Their mother taught him better than this and if she was here she would be utterly disappointed. There was no reason for her baby brother to be uneasy and on edge. It was just her and Marco. “And I thought I was on my period.”

“Oh-my-god,” Okay, okay. Chill. He needed to chill. Marco seemed too distracted by his need for food to notice Danny’s plight. “Just get us water please and thank you.” At this point, the siblings had electricity releasing off of them, as they both coldly stared at one another.

Clearly ignoring her brother’s pleas for her to disappear, bringing her attention to the sweet boy across from him, Cat went from a glare to a beaming smile as fast as she could get a guy off, “Just water?”

Marco was doing his best to contain the excess bits of laughter that passed through his lips as Danny and Cat exchanged banter that only siblings could, but hunger and exhaustion made that a difficult task. Nevertheless, looking up at Cat, he nodded, seemingly agreeing with Danny’s water-only solution. “Yeah, I’m fine with just water,” he said, smiling at Cat.

With Marco’s response, Cat was finally satisfied and went on her way back into her place of business. Thank Christ. At least while Cat was present, Danny had forgotten about the heartbreak he caused to the boy in front of him. The further she walked away, the more he realized why he needed her there. He was now alone with his ex, who probably had plenty of questions for him. Pulling out his wireless earpieces, placing it on the table where his phone was, Danny could feel his nerves building from his chest to his throat.

Get a grip, Belmonte.

Absentmindedly cracking his knuckles, a little tick of his when he’s stressing, Danny did his best to break the ice, “So running, huh?” They both were involved in sports at one point in time. Marco getting back into running wouldn’t be off the table if they were still in school and he didn’t suffer from a severe injury. It still felt kind of soon for his ex to put that much pressure on his leg, but Danny had no right to jump to conclusions so instead he simply watched the boy in front of him with care and concern.

”Oh, yeah…”

There came something of a laugh that staggered between slow breaths. Even as Marco had been sitting there for a few moments, he still was trying to catch it and Danny’s half-question didn’t help. And he knew it wasn’t his intention. Danny never meant to make Marco feel awkward. He wasn’t that kind of person. But what could Marco actually say? I saw you across the street and decided to follow you would only go over so well. Especially with how things were left off between them, but Marco never was angry. Hurt, sure, but never angry.

Another series of slow inhales later, Marco found himself able to speak without being interrupted by his stupid lungs. “I thought I would test how much I could do.” Another laugh.

“And?” Danny firmly asked. Not one to hold back his worry, he pressed on, the nerves dying out at least for the time being, “Are you in pain? Do you need an ice pack? I hope you warmed up before you ran. Do you have a physical therapist?” Before any more questions could leave his mouth, his sister brought out the waters.

“Your sandwiches will be out soon.” She read the table and saw how… serious her brother was staring at Marco, so instead of intervening, she let them continue their conversation.

“Drink,” Danny eagerly demanded, even going out of his way to push the glass closer to his ex.

Save for the echos of Marco sipping from the glass of water, silence was the only thing that remained after Danny’s rather...assertive suggestion came following Cat’s second departure. It was strange. With the questions about how he was feeling and then what he knew Danny caring about his hydration levels, Marco felt like, that is to say how Danny was acting reminded him back when they were together. The way he was interested, how he seemed, and just.., God just how it was like nothing had changed between them.

And Marco smiled at that thought.

He set down the half-full glass, which if that wasn’t symbolic to the way he was feeling right now, then nothing would. “But, uh, to answer your earlier questions, nothing hurts. I mean, nothing that I can’t handle.” Technically, he wasn’t lying. His leg hasn’t been aching since he sat down and his chest wasn’t feeling heavy since he was able to take a few dozen relaxing breaths. “You don’t need to worry about me, Danny!” He smiled cheerfully at his ex. “Really, I’m not in any pain!”

Leaning back in his seat, crossing his arms, Danny muttered, “Is that so…” Clearly not buying the high-spirited act. Was this meeting actually coincidental or was there some ulterior motives? Danny wasn’t clever enough to read between the lines but he had this deep-seated feeling. Something telling him that things weren’t right.

Why would they be? He didn’t give this kid closure. He dumped his ass like he tossed that mystery meat away without much thought or care. Why was Marco sitting with him? Why was he giving him the time of day? Their relationship junior year was intense and passionate, but that doesn’t mean it was perfect. It was far from perfect. The culprit to all their problems? It was Danny.

Danny couldn’t come out. Danny was the one who purposely toyed with girls in front of Marco, knowing that an hour later they’d both be in the janitor’s room getting down and dirty. Danny was the one who asked him out to prom only to take it back and break up with him the day before. To add salt to the wound, he had a random girl linked to his arm for an event that they should’ve celebrated together. After Decker went mad, and Danny came back from camp, instead of checking on his ex, he pretended he didn’t care.

Now that he was thinking about it, this. Whatever this was. He just didn't get. Danny’s eyebrows furrowed in frustration, getting more and more annoyed by the minute, as his ex just sat there. Smiling. This stung more than he thought it would. He would prefer if Marco cut the bullshit and just interrogated him, or yelled at him. Anything that wasn’t this. They were dancing around the tension as if it didn’t exist and Danny had no idea what Marco expected from him. “Well, good to hear.”

Before both boys knew it, their sandwiches were in front of them. Danny had been so stuck in his head that he didn’t see his sister come and go. Grabbing his food, he took a giant bite out of his sandwich, but ultimately kept quiet. Munching away and just looking at the neighborhood around them.

“Oh boy!” Marco’s eyes lit up when he saw the dripping reuben in front of him. He practically had his tongue out, panting with excitement. Food was something that was close to Marco’s heart. One of his great passions and, well he had a soft spot for sandwiches. Almost anything could be made into a sandwich if you were creative enough. And as he took a bite, sounds of approval left his lips as he took that first bite. The tangy crunch of the rye bread, the sour, yet-kind-of-sweetness of the kraut, and the meatiness of the cornbeef — honestly, Marco was in heaven.

With a mouth half-full, he said. “-is s-o food! -at rwafy oufid ferself!”

As much as Danny wanted to stay grumpy, he couldn’t. All the questions racing through his mind halted the moment Marco started devouring his sandwich. After deeply sighing, his lips rose into a smile. Some gazes were emotionally distant and cold but Danny’s eyes, the type of green that reminded anyone of new spring growth, bright and soft, were protective and kind.

Once a minute or two of silence passed, as they both ate their sandwiches, Danny glanced over to his vibrating phone, seeing his cousin spamming him to bring her a sandwich. Rolling his eyes, he shoved the rest of his food in his mouth, chewed, and swallowed. Quick to run and quick to eat, he cleaned his hands and mouth with a tablecloth and replied, “I mean, she does make the best sandwiches, but you knew that already. Now, what’s your plan? For today, I mean.”

After he finished, Marco wiped away the excess of mayo and deli mustard off of his lips and glanced down at his empty plate. Drippings of kraut and the cornbeef resting on a sloppy bed of crumbs was all that remained. ”Oh, probably not much,” Marco admitted, leaning back. He felt twice as fat as his slight gut implied. ”Spent most of the night gaming. I’m pretty much ready for a nap.” Marco laughed as the laugh was exaggerated into something resembling a relaxed moan as he stretched his arms over his head, cracking limbs releasing their gathered pressure. ”How about you? Anything special you’re gonna do today?”

“I’m going to walk you home,” Danilo said calmly and matter-of-factly. That would be something different and special. Not part of his usual routine. In addition to that, there were those letters that practically the whole town got. The most recent one of his was on his bed and there seemed to be something tonight that he felt like he needed to go to. Or he felt too guilty to avoid. “Then I’m going to pick you up tonight around 7:15 PM, so make sure you’re up and ready.”

Standing up, too impatient to wait for his sister, Danny looked at Marco and ordered, “Don’t move.” Once he did so, he went inside the shop to pay the bill or maybe get two free meals for him and his ex.

He tried to get a word in. Both to decline that obviously-gracious offer that Danny made about walking him home. He felt fine and could make it back, but there was a moment when their eyes met that Marco knew it would be a losing battle. His ex had a way about him that made it nearly impossible for him to fight him on it. He was stubborn, passionate, and just amazing in the way that he could be so stern like a brick wall, but as caring to Marco’s not-so-well-hidden fragility. That in itself made Marco accept the defeat in silence with a nod.

And when his ex left and came back from paying, he couldn’t help but smile as he grunted standing up. Beside him, Marco was brought back to when they had been together. Back to a time that neither of them were reeling from the tension brought upon them nor the terror that Marco went through after getting shot.

It was just them and Marco weirdly, though probably so much, felt like he wasn’t even thinking about how tired he was. “Well, I’m ready when you are.”

Swiftly, Danny grabbed his cellphone and his headphones. Once his things were pocketed, he proceeded onward to the stop sign, right at the corner. Maybe tonight would be the night he could properly apologize and give the Puppy the explanation he deserves. Then again, who knows what was waiting for them at Edenridge High at 8PM. The truth? What the hell did that even mean? He’d need to ask Quinn what his theories were. Looking back at Marco, over his shoulder, the Italian lover boy boasted with finality, “I’m always ready.”
In Edenridge → 5 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
In Edenridge → 5 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
@BrutalBx@Venus

In Rosefell High. → 5 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay




Barely registering Christian, Ty, and Cade, when they all asked for a burger, or hot dog, or both, but still being able to address them, Spike Langley gradually gave each of them their orders. His responses, while seemingly natural, were on autopilot and mentally he wasn’t there, not really.

“Order up, host with the most!” He said enthusiastically to Christian.

“It’s going, it’s going. Eat up, pretty lady. No need to drink on an empty stomach,” He appreciatively smiled at Ty.

“An everything burger for you, bro!” He declared to Cade. It seemed Eleazor noticed Spike wasn’t in his usual sorts so he carried on the conversations, which was much appreciated.

More people came and went to grab food from him, right off the grill, and as time passed him by, Spike found his surroundings fading. Getting lost in his head, revisiting feelings he preferred to bury, he couldn’t help but feel empty on the inside. A feeling that resurfaces whenever something like this happens. His mother died, his father died, and now? The girl he thought he’d be with for as long as he thought he’d be alive for, which wasn’t long, but long enough, chose to leave him.

She was gone.

Without a word. Without a single goodbye. Without any care for how he might feel. Ghosting is what his friends would call it. Rejection without finality. She didn’t want to have this conversation. It was too much of a burden for her to give him closure. She liked leaving him hanging, just in case she changed her mind and came running back. Minty could have fun with his friends but when he wanted to explore, he was in the wrong. This had gone on for far too long and he kept letting her treat him like the last option instead of the first.

He wasn’t perfect. Yes, he does have a habit of not keeping his mouth shut and looking at other girls, saying exactly what’s on his mind, but if she wanted to commit, if she wanted him, he would’ve changed. If he could choose between any girl and her, he would’ve always chosen her. He wasn’t a complete piece of shit and when she had nights where she couldn’t sleep, he was the one answering her phone calls. Not Hunter. Not Dee. Not Lucas. Not fucking Mason. HE was the one. And yet, that meant nothing to her and she continued to take advantage of what they have.

His mind drifted further and further into the abyss of his imagination, as he started replaying a time that was a clear red flag.

____________________________________________________________________
“I’m not having this conversation right now, Spike. Please, just go home.”

“Why? Are you afraid to admit you caught feelings?”

“Don’t start this right now.”

“Answer the fucking question! Do you love me?”

“That’s not the point! That’s not why I asked you here.”

“How the hell is this not the point?! What the fuck are we, Aramintah? ”
____________________________________________________________________


She never did answer his questions. Not then, not now, and probably not ever. Shaking his head, Spike looked around and apologized to Eleazor. “Hey dude, just order pizza. I… I’m gonna’ go.” Not giving his grill partner any time to ask him what was wrong, Spike let his feet take him away. The party itself was chaotic and he knew right now, he needed to draw. If he kept this going, he would just keep sinking.

Avoiding interactions and any unfolding drama around him, Spike found himself going into Christian’s bedroom, awkwardly walking into lovers doing… stuff… and retrieving his things. The couple was quick to yell at him and cover up. Instead of giving them his attention, not even glancing at the girl’s boobs, he grabbed his backpack and left, unintentionally leaving the door open on them.

Once again, Spike let his feet lead him in a direction. Walking outside, he heard a familiar voice singing and strumming his guitar. On any other day, Spike wouldn’t welcome Rico’s voice because of his jealousy, but tonight he found himself drawn to the tune he was playing.

Joining the crowd, but keeping himself in the far side, to get a side profile of the big picture, which was a talented singer telling his listeners a story through song, Spike sat on the floor. Watching his musically inclined peer showcase his soul in front of everyone, Spike contemplated in silence and bobbed his head to the rhythm.

When Rico opened his eyes, he looked right through the crowd and straight to… Ellie. Or as Spike called her in his comics: Radiance. He knew they had a thing, and weren't afraid to show it, but he never felt comfortable asking Ellie the details. Plus, he preferred when she smiled and emitted her natural aura of life, love, and light. He didn’t want to risk bringing her down in any way, so he kept their conversation to idle chatter, focusing on art and books. This was the first time Spike took the time to watch them and all he could see was how intensely they looked at each other.

With fervent inspiration, Spike started sketching the scene, but in a more fantastical light. He hadn’t made Rico into a concept, but this song and the way he looked at his friend was enough for Spike to put his childish jealousy aside and enjoy the moment. His pencil flowed with the music and when the sad song stopped, with the two ex-lovers disappearing, Spike sat where he was and kept drawing.
In Rosefell High. → 5 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay





This was all getting rather ridiculous. At first, Trixie didn't want to interfere. She literally just got here but after watching the next five minutes of utter stupidity transpire, her patience was running thin. Having handed her untouched cup of punch to some random kid, while two boys joined the drinking table, she found herself thinking. Thinking of a way to defuse the situation without ruining the fun. Miki was one of her closest friends, and by proximity, Jackson too. However, she wasn't one to pick sides. Especially if neither side could be deduced as the winning side. It doesn't matter if you were her friend or not, if you're wrong, you're wrong.

Right now, both queens were wrong. She wasn't going to assume who started the fight, who poured fuel to the fire, and who was innocent. From what she gathered by watching things play out, they were all guilty. The two factions were both childish, but if this was painted into a narrative, the story would be that the Queen of Thorns and her Knight jumped the Queen of Hearts and her rabbit. Or using less imagery and throwing in buzzwords: Merge Shakes Up at Student Party. Rosefell's Head Cheerleader and Linebacker Get Violent, double teaming two Liberty Students.

Nudging the boy next to her out of her way so she can retrieve something, she briefly turned to him realizing it was Caspian and shouted over the crowd and music, “Sorry, Caspian!” Before she could scurry off, Miki kicked this nerd in the balls and was ready to throw hands, which was something new for her friend.

Time seemed to slow down when a... development happened.

This development went by Theodore Van Cise.

Raising an eyebrow, Trixie followed him with her eyes as he seemingly tamed the beast in front of a crowd of hundreds. She sidestepped her way closer while he was distracted by talking, gaining respect points with the audience and his counterpart. After Theo dispersed the raging beast inside of Dee, the charismatic man turned his attention to Jackson and gave choice words.

Hm.

When he walked away, Theo went close to her by the drinking table. As he approached, she chose to keep eye contact. With her feet rooted to the ground, she took a moment to check her nails when he poured a couple of drinks. The moment she looked back, he gave her a smug smile and a wink. Awe, intrigue, and suspicion transformed on her face.

Once Theo finally left and DeShawn looked absolutely defeated, an idea sparked in her mind. Theo influenced the results by making a move internally. Looking up, she surveyed the growing crowd around them and grinned. A light bulb blinked over her head. Not wasting anymore time, she walked a few distance away from the drinking area and called her brother, the one at the party DJ'ing.

"What?"

"I need an air horn or a megaphone."

"... where are you?"

"By the drinks."

Click. Without any questions, Noah hung up.

Seconds later, Noah was walking in the crowd, letting the DJ table just shuffle through a playlist, it wasn't like these drunk kids cared what he played, and blew an air horn. After breaking the crowd like Moses did with the Red Sea, he caught sight of his sister and gave her a megaphone. "Why not both?" After blasting the air horn once more but in consecutive beeps, he grabbed a fold up chair and kicked it towards Trixie. Once he felt accomplished, he went to a stoner circle and let his sister do her thing. He was on a 15.

Smiling at Noah's surprising efficiency, she walked in between the two factions and jumped on the chair so the audience could, well, see her. "How's everyone doing tonight?!" As expected, the drunks were quick to roar. "I CAN'T HEAR YOU!" The screams got louder. "That's more like it!"

Knowing how short their attention spans were, she went straight to it. Her proposition. Using her nights of watching American Wrestling Entertainment to impact her speech, she was ready to bring the heat, "There is clearly fire in these ladies' eyes!" Trixie gestured toward the two queens, hyping up the people. "There is clear blood on these men's faces!" She pointed to Dee, Jackson, and kid-she-didn't-know (Jax). "We know exactly who they are and they're extremely entertaining! I'm surprised you all don't have your phones out. Kudos to you three in the front, I'm sure those videos will go viral."

Intentionally, Trixie mentioned the lens that always watched everyone and anyone. Gossip was a bitch and she lived for it. If any of these individuals fighting cared about their reputation, they would think wisely their next moves because the pressure was on and more phones were getting pulled out to record. "Why don't we see them do more than just fighting? Why don't we see them get their drank ON! This is a party isn't it?"

At this point, Trixie had completely grabbed everyone's attention and they seemed to like the idea of changing this competition into something more civil, yet hilarious to watch. People getting stupid-faced was always fun when you were the bystander. "Or are the most high all talk and no game? Have they left their balls at home or are they ready to play?"

To finish off her speech, she mischievously twinkled, "To even the teams, I'll join Liberty. If you're going to make bets, bet on this. Three games. Funnel race. Flip cup. Beer pong. Three players per team, which means more chances to win. The ones with the most victories will be tonight's champions. And the losers?" Intentionally, she paused, for dramatic effect, "WHO WANTS TO SEE US GO SKINNY DIPPING IN THE POOL?!! Oh? You all do? Excellent."

Dropping off the chair, she placed the megaphone on it and looked at the fight club, "Boys walk off the pain because we have games to play. Or... are you going to disappoint your people?" Her eyes went from Miki than to Melissa.

Slipping back into the crowd, Noah decided to support his sister by starting a chant, and together the crowd of people high on life and him cried out, "Drink! Drink! Drink! Drink!"

"What do you say? Bury this beef for the night and take a shot?" She finished her move by addressing the culprits that seemed to forget this wasn't their party to ruin.


At home, Marcos Kingsley found himself watching an Instagram live video. Whoever was holding the camera couldn't keep still but he was getting a decent read of the party. Looked fun. Not too much drama. At a distance, he saw a familiar redhead with his best friend and they looked... different. This grabbed the jock's curiosity. He didn't want to assume. Aiden wouldn't lie to him like that, right? Instead of letting his mind wonder, he continued to watch the video and suddenly, the party had his full attention. The camera girl squirmed her way to the front of a large group to show a fight between the ones who floated above it all, like him. The popular kids. And some kid he didn't know, but hey, good for him for trying.

He subconsciously stood up, rather forcibly, when he saw Trixie. "You fuckin' shitting me?” God, she got him cursing again and she knew he hated cursing. Once he saw Noah get involved, he knew he needed to get off his ass and get to this goddamn party.

All he wanted was a night of relaxation but now he had to get his sister out of this stupid predicament. What did he tell her about throwing herself in the middle of things? She will never learn. It was that nosy spirit of hers that got her into trouble. Inserting herself in places where her short ass didn't belong.

Only catching a little of Trixie's speech, Marcos went off this person's story and left the living room.

Time to get the bike out.


"Hey! Get some alcohol in these water guns and
lets get this party started!"
In Edenridge → 5 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
FT. Charlie Decker @BrutalBx




The hues of the early morning unraveled as a promise kept. Sun rays of brilliant colors eased their way through one of the windows of the James household bringing the freshness of a new day to a restless girl. Her hair was rich and deep, full of pure waves of the Earth. Her skin was that of enchanting snow, which only made the rose in her cheeks stand out strikingly so. Her hands, though dainty, had smeared lead and small calluses. Clearly, she was a girl who spent her days with a practical love and didn’t mind getting her hands dirty.

Her name was Penelope James and this was how she liked to spend her mornings.

Taking in the fall air, as she leaned against the window ledge, the understated gem, who wore nothing but a thin tank and plaid shorts, found herself turning to the next page of a book of someone that was dead, but not really. Someone that understood the situation of living through such terrible times, yet is an inspiring testament to the human spirit and how we all, regardless of where we come from, have a right to freedom. Books, where pen meets paper, wait to speak their truths and welcome you to a conversation of preserving ideas. Ideas that could be fleeting and elusive as dreams, but if you let it, they could be a philosophy that shines a new way of thinking, ultimately living on forever, in the heart and mind of the reader.

Serene and in the peace of her solitude, surrounded by perfect temperature, ambience, and a treasure chest of nature’s colors, Penelope whispered to herself a quote out loud, “As long as this exists, this sunshine and this cloudless sky, and as long as I can enjoy it, how can I be sad?” Call her a nerd or whatever, but without knowledge and a bold heart, how would positive change happen in history? The catalyst of change was caused by those whose minds were racing between education and catastrophe. Maybe this is why she preferred non-fiction genres, especially biographies, autobiographies, and memoirs. These stories show that while you have little control over who lives, who dies, and who tells your story, there can be at least one person that keeps your memory alive. The flame that could go out continues to burn because someone is thinking of you.

Smiling to herself, her mind and heart completely invested in the story of Anne Frank, she sat down on the window ledge, savouring every bittersweet, joyous, and heartbreaking part of this autobiography, in no rush to go to the ending, simply living in the ‘in-between’ — the good, the bad, and the ugly. She had time to spare, knowing well enough that her mother was in the kitchen drinking coffee and reviewing her monthly expenses, her father was already gone for the day, catching up on paperwork at the station, and her sister was still sleeping like a dead man.

Penelope loved the morning.

“You know, if any other pervert saw you in the window looking like that, they’d probably put you in the back of a van, you know that right?”

The deep voice came from behind, followed by a tall, lanky frame pushing his way through the small window and not so gently pushing Penelope off of her ledge. Crumpling to the floor face first, ass up in air, the “intruder” did a not so graceful forward roll that would make the Edenridge Cheerleaders hate him even more than they already did.

“Uh-huh.”

“Lucky for you, I’m your own personal private pervert so you’re fine.”

“Is that lucky though?” She teased, staring at her next door neighbor through her peripheral vision. “If anyone is going to kidnap me, it’ll probably be you.” Poppy dramatically rolled her eyes, bringing in more sass than she intended, before reaching for her bookmark. Once her book was closed, she left it on her dresser and made her way to her best friend. Gazing at him, Poppy amusingly eyed his movements as he struggled to get back on his feet. “One day you’ll stick the landing. When that day comes, I'll let you in on a secret, but until then…” The half dressed freshman mouthed, “...My lips are sealed.”

Standing at his full recent six foot frame, the raven haired boy bowed like a failed magician at the beautiful brunette. The mention of a secret was not lost on him but he decided not to acknowledge it. With Penelope it could’ve been anything. It could be what she had for lunch yesterday or perhaps it was the last great mystery of the universe solved by a freshman high school girl from Massachusetts? Or maybe, just maybe, it was three little words, three syllables that he had been waiting to hear for ten years. Words he longed for but feared oh so terribly.

Charlie had been climbing through Poppy’s window for the better part of those long ten years but not once has he ever stuck the landing. The last time he used her front door was in second grade at her birthday party and even then, that was only because Logan had pushed him off of the bouncy house and he had cut open his cheek. Nurse Poppy made it all better though. A little kiss to take the pain away and a sick Power Rangers band aid to make him feel like a badass ignited feelings that he has held close ever since.

Breaking away from time long past, he began, “I brought breakfast,” Charlie slung his bag off of his shoulder and unzipped the large back section to take out an obviously piping hot brown paper bag. “Fresh from the Pancake Diner, four Grammy nominated bagels with an assortment of toppings for m’lady, just leave me the one with cream cheese. You know I do love the shmear.”

“Aw shucks!” Penelope went to the bag he was holding up and took a peek, getting a nice waft of toasted bagels, “A man after my own heart,” she beamed.

Fixedly looking up him with her big, fun-loving eyes, purposely for a moment too long, she decided to pull away and walk backwards. Stretching her arms up high, revealing more of her stomach, she casually ordered, “You know the drill, if you want to eat on my bed put a towel on it. If not, there’s always the floor. I’m going to throw some clothes on real quick.”

Charlie tried and failed not to look at his friend as she stretched. They were hidden together in her room like they always had been, just the two of them. In their own private world how could he not notice her? It was a fated kind of thing; Charlie and Poppy were meant to be together, everybody knew that except for them, apparently. He lay a towel down on the bed as requested and took a bite out of some toasted goodness.

”Don’t be long, I got English with Beau first class today and he will kick my ass if I’m late again.”

With that, she nodded and scurried to her bathroom, which was connected to her sister’s room too.

In the bathroom, she had some clothes waiting for her on hanging hooks. If her mom walked in on them with her wearing something this skimpy that would be the end of her. Her nipples were showing through the tank too. Ugh. She had to do better.

”Fuck, get it together Decker...”

Charlie sat down onto her bed with their breakfast and reached into his bag again, pulling out his latest read. Many might consider it a great juxtaposition that someone who looked like him, dirty flannels, black jeans, and a leather jacket that he didn’t know who Mark Twain or F Scott Fitzgerald were. Yet if one were to venture to the other side of Penelope’s window and into Charlie’s own bedroom you’d see a collection of books, grabbed from yard sales, thrift stores, and e-bay. First editions of forgotten classics and poetry. There were times where Poppy would look for some attention, knocking on his window trying to get him to go on some adventure but Charlie would be too engrossed in his literature to notice. She hated that and he knew she hated that.

He turned the page of his book, taking another bite from his bagel. ”If you don’t get a move on, Pops, I’m eating your breakfast. I don’t even give a fuck.”

“Don’t you dare!” Jesus. No chill at all. He never gave her enough time to get ready! Then again, she had a whole hour to get ready but instead she chose to read her book. Before changing into anything, she knocked on the door that connected to her sister’s room, “Max! You better be up.” Ever since her sister got her driver’s license, she’s been sleeping in later and later. Well, it doesn’t help that she stays up all night being an overachiever.

Groggily on the other side, her sister muttered, “I’m up, I’m up. I hear Charlie. Tell him I said hi.”

“Max says hi!” Poppy called out to the boy waiting on her bed. Fortunately for the impatient boy, she only needed to throw on a big t-shirt dress, black knee-highs, a jean jacket, and her overly used boots. Poppy was usually a jean kind of girl. Ripped or not ripped, she just liked pants. However, this year, she felt like taking a page or two out of Jade’s book and exploring the grunge style to look cute (maybe even sexy one day). Quickly, she applied makeup to give her eyes more of a pop, put a mid-tone warm nude matte lipstick on her lips, and finished her ensemble by adding a choker on.

Eh.

Not anything the cheerleaders would notice, but she liked it. It was simple, yet still made her look attractive, in a comfy kind of way. Finally, she opened the door and rushed to the bed, hopping on it to get her bagel with strawberry cream cheese. Not starting up a conversation just yet, Poppy focused on devouring some of her bagel. After she chewed what she swallowed, she asked, “How’s your mom? She doing okay?”

“Some days are better than others,” Charlie sighed as he closed his book and put it to one side. “Yesterday she had full vision, today she can only see out of her left eye. She’s trying to play it down but…” He began to fiddle with the ring on his left index finger, as he often did when he was uncomfortable or stressed out. Normally he wouldn’t divulge this kind of stuff but Penelope had always been different to most people. “The bills are stacking and working in the chop shop with Rey Rey isn’t cutting it. Decky mentioned he might have a spot on the corner for me.”

For as long as he could remember it has always just been Charlie and his mom. She worked day shifts at the Pancake Diner, nights at the Hole in the Wall or Edge of Sin and everything else she could in between to pay the bills. Charlie’s father was long dead and it was his actions that brought shame to the family. He was the reason the Deckers struggled. Charlie did what he could but it was never enough.

“But that’s a last resort obviously,” He backtracked as much as he could, despite seriously considering the offer from Triple S. “Anyway, you want this book after I’m done? It’s Infinite Jest by David Foster Wallace.”

Frowning as she listened to him, hating the sight of Charlie feeling like this and struggling so much, but also glad that getting involved with Triple S was a last resort for him, Poppy muttered to his question, “Yeah that’s fine.” She knew very well he didn’t want to continue to talk about this topic, but she cared too much to stay silent. Wiping her hands on her towel, Poppy got off her bed and went to retrieve something.

Gradually going on her knees to the floor, she pulled out a box from under her bed. When the lid was off, there rested a medium sized, old piggy bank and a few jars filled with coins and cash. Charlie would know this to be Poppy’s savings, from when she was small, all her allowances that she never spent, in order to help her family with emergencies and prepare for college. Placing it on the bed in front of him, she apologetically offered, “I know it probably isn’t enough but every penny counts, Charlie. And—”

”Put it away Poppy!” Charlie snapped back. He was never short with Penelope, never unless something was wrong. He didn’t want her charity and he could never ask her to give up something for him. It’s not like she was a millionaire herself. ”That's yours. I’ll figure something out.”

Frustrated but unwilling to show her, the Native American boy followed her off the bed and moved towards the window where he first entered the room.

”The smallest act of kindness is worth more than the grandest intention; Oscar Wilde. I appreciate the thought, Pops, but you already do enough for me. You give me a reason to get out of bed.” He smiled at her before opening up the window, preparing to climb out.

”Last person downstairs has to eat the mystery meat for lunch!”

●


When Charlie started to climb out, his voice faded away and his image disappeared in thin air. Charlie was no longer here. He was gone. It was as if he never visited and she was standing by her bathroom door looking at a room, unlike the one she remembered. The vibrant colors of years before didn’t seem to hold true anymore. Even if it was summer everything looked and felt bleak. The sunlight was only a mirage because if the sun was actually out, if there was warmth and light coming through her window, she wouldn’t feel so tired and empty. She would want to go out and play. At least that’s what the Poppy of yesteryear would do.

A throbbing migraine, both bitter and sweet, ran from her head through her veins and to her heart, causing her chest to swell. Most days no therapy, no pill, and no person could make this overwhelming sensation go away. She surveyed her room. A colossal amount of clothes, puzzle pieces, and memories blocked her sight from seeing the floor. Her bed, the only discernible thing in this room, was left untouched. It felt like someone hadn’t slept on it for days, months, maybe a year even.

Time evaded her, but that was okay. It was her day off. Stumbling her way to her closet, she forcibly pushed it open, the door seemingly stuck because of the surrounding mess. There she knelt down looking at a couple of boxes with Charlie’s name on it. Opening one, she shuffled through it, trying to look for another hoodie, since his other ones needed to get washed, and pulled out his leather jacket instead.

How long has this been in here?

Curiosity crossed her mind and she tried it on. Heh. Charlie is so big in comparison to her. Lethargically pushing herself up, she walked to her wall, by her entrance door, where a mirror used to be and stopped in her tracks, “Oh.” That’s right. She no longer had access to mirrors anymore. Lifting her right hand up, she examined the healing wounds of cuts from shards when she tried to hurt herself.

Sighing, not thinking too deeply into it, Penelope found her feet moving on its own accord and there she was, looking at a letter she placed on her desk. An unread letter addressed to her. How much did time pass since she went downstairs to check the mail and see any notes on the fridge left by her parents? Thirty minutes? An hour? Two? Who knows. It wasn’t like time mattered.

This was all just a bad dream and Charlie? Charlie was out with Decky probably getting into trouble. Those two were double trouble, but that’s part of why she loved them so much. Opening her side drawer, meant for files, revealing a novel written by Charlie himself and a pile of letters on top of it, Poppy swept the other letter into the void and closed it, ignoring its existence completely, like she always has.

Grabbing her almost dead phone off the hard surface of her desk, Poppy went down to her knees once more but this time, she dropped to her side to look at her messages. Her fall was softened by her clothes. She was wearing an outfit she picked out for yesterday, which included sweatpants, a big t-shirt of Eeyore from Winnie the Pooh, and the teardrop necklace of her sister’s ashes. A new addition for the moment, Charlie’s leather jacket, but she would likely change into a hoodie before she left the house. He would tease her if he caught her wearing his jacket and she would be damned if she gave him the satisfaction.

Instead of looking at new messages, she found herself opening a text from Charlie asking her to meet up at the gym. Her eyes glazed over at the texts after that, where she had frantically messaged him throughout the year, his phone still being in service but paid by her parents. Exasperatedly sighing, she sent a message: Let’s meet tonight.

Hesitantly, she started adding ‘I miss you’ but was quick to delete it and instead sent: Do you remember the secret I never told you?


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