LovelyComplex

DWS [SHELVED UNTIL BETTER TIME]

This is an invite only rp. If you are interested, you can PM me and I'll consider more hands on deck. However, this is my first roleplay gming in awhile and this is a concept I care a lot about so I want to maintain my sanity and have a dedicated writer base starting with some of my friends. No hard feelings. Regular site rules: No godmodding, no mary sues and gary stus, no cybering, don't be a dick, etc, etc. No set posting order. Let inspo take you, even if you're writing flashbacks and waiting for the scene to move forward. High casual rp - quality over quantity. Real face claims in modern setting. When entering action-based scenes or confrontations, communication is key. We are here to tell a story that may mean sometimes your character will lose/be defeated. Discuss in private how you see the scene flowing, make sure each writer involved is okay with the result and go with the wind. This is a college and there are rules. You might have characters with powers but I will regulate it. Don't assume you can use your powers at any time, in any place. Like I said earlier, consider your weapon a gun. Choose when you want to take it out and understand there might be consequences. I will be permitting just about any power but I'll be looking for weaknesses, flaws, and limitations. I want to see you explore the growth of your character which means they still have a lot of learning to do. Please try your best to balance and moderate your characters. Any powers which gives you control over another character, similar to a fight scene, please talk to writer in private and paint an interesting scene together, understanding its okay for your character to feel defeat. Let me know if you're going on a hiatus. Communication is key. Please don't ghost me. I don't take that lightly. Post C.S. in the OOC and wait for approval. Do not post anything in the character tab until accepted. Tentatively we will have a three week posting period. I'm hoping we get to a place where a deadline won't be necessary and we carry the roleplay with momentum and inspo. In the discord server I'll be posting lore, locations, teachers, etc, etc. I want this roleplay to be a collaborative story and part sandbox. I have a general direction but you can influence the story, you can help me build the town, build the world, build the future, and create history. Together I hope we make something great. I trust that you've read the rules. No special requirement. If you want to do something, just poke me or something. I don't care.

⋙: Ｗａｒｎｉｎｇ

This story will explore controversial, mature, and dark topics. We will not stray away from subjects like: homicide, hate crimes, assault of any variant, substance use, terrorism, and many others. As a form of courtesy, please mention trigger warnings at the top of your post. This roleplay is influenced by many movies/shows (ie. The Boys, My Hero Academia, The Umbrella Academy) and universes (ie. Batman/Arkham City, Marvel, X-Men).

Edenridge

_{@LovelyComplex & @BrutalBx
Timestamp: Midday Monday
FT: Sylvester James
Victoria James
Clayton Costigan}

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On her desk at Well Loved Wonders laid all the letters thus far since Charlie Decker’s journal was taken. Including the one that was not Charlie at all. No, it was written by a young Northsider girl in love with the late David O’Hara. Victoria James sat at her desk drinking black tea waiting for her husband to show up. She had texted him prior to leaving the house. She was contemplative, dazed out... who knows how long she's been sitting here, waiting, wondering when, because the letters would, start targeting what was hers. It was only a matter of time.

Fixatedly, she stared at a picture of goats on her wall. Her small office wasn't anything worth note in terms of interior design. It was a room with a desk and a chair, with some thrifty decor like the picture of goats to add character. The woman didn't spend too much time in her office and it showed. Some rustic farm aesthetic in a dreary, plain room and call it a day.

When the office door opened, her dark, empty eyes went from the picture to her husband’s exhausted yet smiling face. He made his way to her and placed a paper bag from the popular bagel food truck, Schmear is Here, on her desk. It didn’t take long for him to notice that look on her face; the one he’s seen more times than he’d like to admit. The type of look that was unrelenting, unforgiving, and unwelcoming. Victoria’s gears were turning and one look at that face would make anyone feel like they were in a cold, steel prison and the only escape was to do what she said because she held the key.

On top of that, he saw the letters laying on her desk and her pocket knife stabbed into one of them randomly, piercing her desk. All the letters that were bringing emotional distress in his house, in his neighborhood, and in his town… she no longer was going to hold her tongue and patiently wait for a resolution. That much he knew. “What’s up, baby?”

Leisurely, Vicky took a sip of her drink, watching the heat inches away from her face. Placing her mug down, she glanced up at her husband and calmly asked, “Should we admit her?”

“Admit who?” Sly’s posture straightened and his expression changed from receptive to alarmed. “Penelope?” He questioned, his tone ever so slightly disapproving.

“Yes, our daughter. I think it’s long overdue, don’t you? And with these letters…” She placed her hand on one, sliding it on her desk in a circle, “... she’s not doing good, Sylvester. Who knows whose next after this string of who fucked David O’Hara letters. Do you want Penelope to find out the reason why Charlie never committed to her? I’m sure he wrote about that.”

“Vicky,” Straining at the leash ever since Charlie shot up the school to keep Poppy from getting sent away, Rocky exasperatedly sighed and went beside his wife, kneeling down so they were at the same level, “She’s getting better. She’s eating more everyday. She’s got her friends. She’s got us. She’s got Ronnie. Hell, even Shannon’s told me she’s improving. Said she’s gained some sense of clarity since she took it upon herself to see Charlie’s grave. Let’s not take that away from her.”

Tilting her head back slightly, making her gaze follow down her nose, Victoria attentively watched her husband, who did his best to comfort her worry. “And what if it gets worse? These letters..." She breathed, trying to contain the rising tide of emotions in her thin frame, “We have no idea what this fucker knows. We’re not always there to protect her. She might have taken two steps forward but what if she finds out, I don’t know, that Charlie had a fuck buddy or something and she meant absolutely nothing to him? What if everything she’s ever done for that worthless piece of shit she’s given her whole heart to turns out to be a waste? What if—”

“Victoria,” Sly interrupted in a commanding yet hushed manner, grabbing her hands from moving around, noticing her teeth gritting and her claws coming out. “Have you been taking your meds?” If his wife was digressing mentally, maybe he really should consider going on a sabbatical to protect them. That thought wasn’t on the forefront of his mind because he and the rest of the Edenridge police were already spread thinly. And as long as this person was still out there with these letters, he needed to continue to serve. He had no choice. He owed it to Rhonda for… well, for killing her son.

Defensively, Victoria pulled her hands away from her husband and brought them close to her chest, “I’m waiting for my refill but this isn’t about me, Rocky.” At this point, Victoria was standing up, her anger seething from every fiber of her being. Shortly after Sly followed suit, standing tall, a boulder between Vicky and the door. When she got like this, she became dangerous. Malicious and coldblooded. He would know. He’s been married to her for years and was put into situations where he had to bring her back, time and time again. That’s what he signed up for when he proposed to her. He knew her trauma and how she coped. He knew there was good in her, covered with so much pain, so much fear, and so much hostility. He knew she meant well and he loved her all the same.

His forehead creased and concern clouded his features. “What do you need me to do?” The one thing he would not do is send Poppy away. She needed her family now more than ever. She needed them. “Do you want me to take leave?”

“No. Don’t do that," Vicky furrowed her eyebrows, frustrated at everything and nothing at all, “And what? Let the other cops fuck shit up even more? They need you, that I know.” Victoria forcibly pulled her pocket knife out of the desk (and letter) and started twirling it with her fingers like a baton. “What’s taking so long anyways? Why is this shit still happening? I never thought you were incompetent, Sly. You’ve always gotten shit done in record time. You've never failed and look where we’re at. There’s still someone out there trying to get us!”

“Breathe, baby,” Sly soothed as he breached the space in between them, preparing himself just in case she used the weapon to defend herself from what she probably thought was an assailant. When she didn’t, he pulled the sharp weapon out of her hand and embraced her, letting his woman bury her head in his chest. As they took in the silence, he closed the pocket knife and put it in his pants’ pocket. “It’s going to be okay. We’re working around the clock to protect the town and find the culprit. I promise, baby, we haven’t slept in months. Me and Clay especially.”

“I’m growing impatient,” Vicky looked up from his chest, her deathly stare bringing shivers up his spine. “Stop it before it hits home or I’ll be left with no choice…” With her razor-sharp nails, she grasped his clothed chest, narrow eyed and resolute. “…I will lose my shit if I lose another daughter. I will not hesitate to do what I need to do to protect Penelope at all cost. You hear me? Don’t waste my fucking time, Sylvester James.” Vicky was scowling and trying to get out of his hold, no longer wanting intimacy the more her frantic mind controlled her words and actions. He didn’t let go. “Figure it out or I’ll take matters into my own hands.”

“Okay,” is all he had left to say. Their eyes met once more as he read into her paranoid, desperate, and angry gaze. The eyes were the window to the soul after all and he could see the raging storm in his wife fighting to escape. He let her initiate a kiss before it was time for him to leave. After a couple more exchanged words, regarding her medication and him reminding her to pick it up, Sly gave his wife a tender, reassuring kiss, left her side, and found himself back on Main.

Standing outside the thrift store, Sly closed his eyes, trying to set his mind right. He was Rocky from the SSS. Reformed gang member and a cop. What a great success story. Started from the bottom and climbed, kept climbing, until he got to a place he thought was high enough. A protector. A guardian. A role model. A huge part of the Edenridge community. Loved and respected. An unbreakable man who carried just about anything, including the weight of this town.

Once he gathered himself, Sly went to the driver’s seat of his patrol vehicle where his partner was waiting for him and slumped in. “Sorry, that took longer than I expected. Had to tend to the wifey.”

Clay had only heard bits and pieces about the James’s home life from Sly. He had never personally met Vicky yet or Penelope; though Roddy had mentioned her a few times in conversation. Based on his superior's stoic face being even more miserable than usual, the young officer could tell that whatever conversation that Sylvester had undergone with his wife was probably not a pleasant one. Considering his own relationship and where he had left it that morning, Clay thought best not to offer any sage advice. “It’s all good boss, I’m just glad to get back out there. I need to…we need to figure this shit out before someone gets hurt.”

“Yeah, no kidding,” Sly grimaced as he buckled himself in and started the ignition. He knew if he didn’t get to the bottom of this his wife’s mental health would undoubtedly get worse. She’s always struggled with these things. It goes back to her trauma from when she was a child and was raised by a bunch of sociopathic money launderers. Add the trauma of losing her siblings, one to the foster care system and the other to prison, Victoria didn’t handle change well. She didn’t handle loss well. She didn’t handle others overstepping their boundaries and trying to take advantage of her well. She didn’t handle much of anything she disagreed with well. And that was Sly’s burden to bear.

Even so, he knew his wife had come a long way from when they were young. All her hard work was for nought when Maxine died. From that point on it’s been a tug-o-war battle between her wanting to do what she wants and him telling her what she needs. As he drove away from the curb, he admitted, “She’s been psycho analyzing the letters. Thinks we’re failing at our jobs. I get it: she’s afraid it’ll get back to Pops, our daughter.” Stopping at the red light, Sly watched as a woman walked across the street with two little girls holding her hands. He smiled, thinking of the days life was simpler. Happier. Better. “Can’t say I blame her. We don’t got much and these letters aren’t even written by Charlie so what the fuck is up with that.”

“Best guess?” Clay leaned his arm out of the patrol car window and brushed a hand through his thick mane of hair. “Has to be a copycat right? Someone inspired by Decker’s letters and is using that whole gimmick to their advantage,” He looked out across the sky towards the oncoming storm. There was a big black cloud hanging over Boston and it was speedily making its way towards Edenridge. “We have to figure this out, Sly,” Clay lamented as his mind drifted to thoughts of his friends, David and Jamie, Coach. All would be torn to shreds potentially by the contents of these letters. He understood Mrs. James' mentality all too well. “This place is already going to hell in a handbasket, it only takes one spark to set the place on fire.”

The light turned green and Sly was off again, reviewing Clay’s words and revisiting that year where his work was cut out for him. Year 2018. Happy New Years! David O’Hara has drowned in the lake. Aside from all the interviews for the investigation, he remembered getting some downtime to go to their last games their senior year (years prior to David’s death). He got to see the Elite shine on court. It was a great time to be alive.

Before the Elite graduated, those were the golden years and now here he was with one of them trying to protect who they could, blindly. They had no idea what they were up against, what monsters lurked in the shadows and played these mind games. But if the copycat theory was true, that meant one thing, “You know we have to talk to all your friends right? The letter is a love letter. I doubt there would be multiples of the same letter laying about. I mean the original one. Not the photocopied ones we all got. David was one of your best friends and if he hid these letters to protect the one he loved, only a handful of people would know about it. Only one person would know where it was. I’m not going to assume anything, I’ll let you pick where we go, but this one is going to hit home, kid.”

“Trust me boss, I already feel like I’ve gone twelve rounds with Tyson,” Clay ruminated in his head upon Sly’s words. The older man wasn’t wrong; they would have to interview everyone. All the so-called Elite. Jamie and Russell would be easy enough to get a hold of considering they were in the eye of the hurricane. Rhett would be fine, he’d be at the bar. Fran, well last Clayton had heard from his auntie Edith, Francis was trekking through the Andes with Joaquin. So trying to get a hold of him might actually be an issue. “I guess we head to the Hole and speak to twenty one first. Save me, he was the closest to Duke.”

“I’ll do my best but I think he’d appreciate hearing this from you,” Sly glanced over to his comrade before subtly praising, “You’ll be fine. I’ve watched you long enough to know you’re stronger than most people give you credit for. They see a goofball, I see a man that cares about his town and all those living in it. Trust your instincts, Clay, and the rest will fall into place.”

It was nice to hear such kind words from Sly. Considering the best he ever got from his own father was “Nice block” when he was on the court, hearing something like that filled Clay with a warm feeling. Though it was quickly replaced by a cold, clammy feeling as he thought of the fact he now had to question the people that he was closest to, in connection with a crime that had haunted them all these years. “Well,” He turned to face his mentor for a brief moment before looking back out of the window at the town they called Edenridge. “Let’s do work.”

“All day, everyday, kiddo.”

Edenridge

^{Timestamp: Before Good Morning Edenridge, early as fuck in the morning.}

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“Who’s gonna’ be your date tonight, Mein Mensch?” Eiran Goldstein, one of the many employees under Niles’ uncle’s jurisdiction, chewed on his toothpick at Dom’s Body Shop & Garage. Location, East Boston. He leaned up against the wall as he surveyed the Doctor’s son strolling through the secret underground garage that Dominic Tyler liked to call his very own ‘batcaves’. It makes sense that a highly innovative techie like Niles’ uncle would have state-of-the-art technology to create a secure retreat away from the hustle and bustle of the city. The actual codeword to find these garages was “sanctuary”.

There were at least twenty six of these throughout the United States. When Dominic Tyler wasn’t working remotely for The Hoffman Sachs Group, Inc, based in Dallas, Texas, he was managing his mod/auto repair shops. Consider it a passion project of his. On top of him making good money as a software engineer with the leading global investment banking, securities, and investment management firm, having clients with some of the highest net-worth, he also collected art, constantly attending auctions and private showings. In addition to that, he loves, absolutely loves, motor vehicles. Does love even justify his obsession with the fast and furious world?

Niles took interest in his uncle’s business at a young age - before he knew much about it. Fortunately, his father wasn’t against it. The prospect of his son investing his time learning a family trade was a much better deal than his son ending his life. Since the Doctor’s son gained his permit, he made monthly visits to Boston to help his uncle out. How so you may ask? Well, by racing. An earnest way to get things other people worked hard for and branding it with the Tyler name.

Dom’s BODY Shop & Garage was a good cover for what actually happened underground. Truth be told, Dominic Tyler was someone in the crime world that people highly respected. No men in blue have caught onto his game and that’s because he was unaffiliated, unbiased, and seemingly uninvolved. If you looked at his business papers, his bookkeeping, and his places of business, he was clean. He wasn’t aligned with any top dog, there was no sign of illegal transactions, and if you walked in the shop? Even to the keenest of eyes, it looked like a normal garage. Dominic Tyler was a smart man and those who were big players in the Underworld knew that.

All that matters to Dom was providing amazing customer service to well paying clients, while offering a reformed program for ex convicts. There’s an unspoken rule when it comes to the name Dominic Tyler. He’ll offer you the best services for your rides and clean up (emphasizing on BODY shop), the only thing he asks of you is to leave his immediate family out of the business. Niles was an exception. That’s his nephew, not his sons. Leave his wife, his two sons, and his daughter alone and he won’t be forced to retaliate. You don’t want to make a smart man angry. Let’s just say Dominic Tyler knows how to ruin lives and it doesn’t usually end in death. He prefers long, agonizing suffering. Death is a kindness in his book.

Playing a dangerous game is part of the Tyler name not because Dominic has anything to gain from the game but because of the thrill of it all. He’s good at what he does and can manage like a boss, having implemented strong individuals in each of his shops. People he considers family, in charge of taking care of their domains and giving him reports when things go astray.

Before Dom built his resume as a successful techie, he was a mechanic and an engineer first and foremost. An excellent one at that. Now he has garages where his team of infamous gearhead junkies, well known full-throttle, ex-convicts, and legendary racers run and build on top of his legacy, creating their own. He takes good care of them and they obtain parts, connections, and hot wheels, through any means possible, flipping what they get and building on the value and worth.

That was the Tyler way of life and Niles was part of the reason why the Boston branch was booming. Niles raced, illegally, and brought home some of the rarest finds. Was it immoral to strip them from everything they had if he beat them fair and square?

Who cares if it was.

He was winning in the end and that’s all that mattered.

“You know I have to take her out,” Niles strolled beside the red 2,500+HP Lamborghini Huracan. They called her Desire. “She never fails me, and she certainly won’t tonight.” Hearing the keys coming his way, fast, and with no warning, Niles shifted his body and caught them like a baseball. There was no hesitation or flinching, like he expected it and used his fast reflexes to respond. Turning his head, he smirked at the sexy asian girl, “Hey Hiriko, does daddy know you’re out?”

“No more than your dad knows,” Hiriko Styles in a midriff top and pink ripped jeans blew a large pink gum bubble, mischievously looking at the Doctor’s son. Sucking the gum in, she snapped it, chewed, and glanced at her boyfriend, Goldstein.

“You takin’ her this time. The guy you up against ain’t the most ethical; he’s from Pinehurst, you know how they play. So, I’m sending insurance. If things get dirty Riko will take care of you like you take care of this babygirl here.” With his toothpick in his mouth, Goldstein glided his finger on the red beauty, proud of her journey. She's been here the longest and Niles was attached.

“A streetcar named Desire.”

“Clever ain’t I?” Goldstein smirked while making his way to his girl, briefly taking his toothpick out of his mouth. Pulling her in, he deeply kissed Riko in front of the boy, giving no fucks of the PDA. The family she was adopted in controlled a huge part of Edenridge National Laboratory but unlike the rest of her family, she chose to learn the art behind cars. She either commuted from the Styles mansion or slept at his apartment. They had a good thing going and her spirit was absolutely on fire. Goldstein trusted her with his life and he knew she would protect Niles from any harm if a race went wrong. She came in clutch in the most opportune moments. Pulling away from the kiss, he brushed her hair behind her ear and smiled, “You bring him back home safe, yeah?”

“I always do,” Giving a teasing wink, Riko blew her man a kiss, which he responded by catching it. He watched her longingly as she swayed her hips from side to side and went into the passenger’s seat.

God, he was a lucky man.

“Hey, Pink Slip. Take all they got!” After returning the toothpick in his mouth, the older man casually saluted with his pointer and middle finger. In silence, Niles nonchalantly nodded and entered the car. Goldstein went to a door pad and put in a four digit code. Soon after, a secret garage that was camouflaged with its surroundings went up and revealed a secret tunnel. This tunnel would lead to a platform that would bring Niles up to the East Boston Skatepark.

Desire was gone in seconds.

“Get ‘em boy.”

There was no time for rest. Immediately as the car vanished from sight, Eiran’s phone rang. When he saw who was on caller ID, he answered, “Ayo boss. Uh yeah, yeah. Shipment went smoothly. Got another one at 6 AM? Shit, you love keeping me busy. Oh! For real? I’m sure Hector would like to see you. Yeah, I think that’s great—” Goldstein surveyed all the expensive street cars in his garage as he listened to Dominic jump between his personal life and his game plan for the coming months. The quota he wants his branches to hit. “— Consider bringing your wife and kids. I hear Edenridge is a fucking mess. When is it not? I mean... you right. You totally right."

If there was one thing Goldstein learned was this man never slept and if he called you at 3 AM in the morning, you fucking answered. His time was precious and honestly, he did too much. He was the guy who balanced his personal and work life by micro napping and just always on the go. For an old guy, Dominic Tyler still had way too much energy. Must've been the good sex his wife gave him. GOALS.

"You got business partners in town? No shit. I'm sure that means good things, Dom."

Once the lights were off Goldstein turned on his heel with furrowed eyebrows realizing his work would be picking up soon if he wanted to meet his boss’ expectations. Something was brewing in the Underworld and he was a reformed convict simply trying to survive and provide for his family. He had a better deal than most goons. Dom was a good boss, just ambitious. Stil, he treated everyone that worked for him like family and that meant everything to the Jew. His family was limited, his past was dark, and he's been five years sober. That's got to mean something. Working for Dom was Goldstein's way of choosing his family. If his sister wasn't such a psychotic bitch, he'd likely have more family, which reminds him. He needed to call his brother, the one that lived in Seattle not in Boston with him, and see how the fucker was holding up with his business endeavor. He missed him.

Family, man.

They were everything to him.

Edenridge

200 posts!!!!

I know keeping at a roleplay throughout the seasons can be challenging. We go in and out of inspiration, feeling burnt out, exhausted, defeated, depressed, and everything in between; just trying to make it through the day. I’m taking this moment to show my appreciation for all of you. You are phenomenal writers and Edenridge wouldn’t have gotten this far without all of us. Edenridge has transformed into something captivating and I know if we keep at it, supporting each other through thick and thin, we can create something beautiful.

As the world continues to expand the more chapters we explore, we hope we’re creating a place where everyone feels important. Valued. Safe. We want everyone to be part of all the layers this world has to offer. This isn’t just one person’s story. It’s all of ours and I’m amazed at what you bring to the table. We will go out of our way to integrate you and your ideas in everything this town is, was, and will be. By book 2, maybe you’ll weave your own tale and take us on an emotional journey.

In all honesty - we hope we can keep Edenridge going for a very long time. Our first goal is book 1. And we are still workshopping book 2 which will have everyone’s chaotic minds involved. Beyond that? Edenridge is our oyster.

So - thank you. Thank you for sticking around. Thank you for being here for us. Thank you for writing so beautifully. Thank you for existing.

We love you.

Let’s kick some ass and get to the next hundred!

LovelyComplex, over and out.

Edenridge

_{@BrutalBx & @LovelyComplex}
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Timestamp: a memory and in the present, after homecoming collab

Sitting in a pew beside her mother, Vivia Belmonte boredly turned the pages of a bible. Her sunlit waves were in a lovely lace braid and she wore a black collar dress that hid her blossoming womanly figure. Fourteen at the time with no attachment to the beautiful departed, the distracted, young Belmonte looked around the sanctuary of the soul, over the heads of her siblings and father sitting in the same pew as her. She brought her eyes filled with passion in ice to the architecture, ambience, and atmosphere. It didn’t take long before Vivia realized how dimly lit this church was. How gloomy it felt. Spacious, yet depressingly impersonal. Lonely.

They had lived in Edenridge for ten years now so returning to the Big Apple always felt weird. The world expanded outside of Edenridge. She found herself not liking the city much. She preferred the quaint, small, and charming feeling her home gave and by home she meant Edenridge. She was four when they moved so she didn’t much remember her time here anyways. Truthfully, she barely remembered half of her cousins’ names.

Running her pointer finger on one of the verses, Vivia mouthed to herself, “He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away. Revelation 21:4.” Closing the book, she shook her head, not understanding how people desperately sought out such basic words.

These words were to comfort the soul during these trying times but to rely so heavily on this imaginary being and thinking He would give the gift of eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord baffled the teenage girl. Faith in the unknown was so not her style. How did her parents expect her to trust that all her sins would be absolved and that she would be ready to walk through the valley of the shadow of death, with no fear? That’s the thing. They didn’t. All they could say was they had faith.

Viv hadn’t paid much attention to the liturgy of the mass. She did get up for communion and now they were waiting for the priest to put the sacrament in the tabernacle. Feeling her phone vibrate beside her, Viv glanced at her kneeling mother who was praying with her eyes closed. Quietly, she grabbed her phone and smiled when she got a text from Allison checking up on her. They were going to start highschool soon and Viv knew, she just knew her friend would shine bright like a diamond.

“I need you to be right here with me. Right here, right now—” The hoarse and brittle voice of her mother caused her to jump in surprise. “—Can you do that for me, babygirl?” Vivia laid eyes on Silvia's pain-stricken face, her heart sinking at how shattered her mother looked. Quietly observing her get up from her kneeling position, the middle child of the Belmonte 7 watched her mother take a seat beside her and bring up the kneeler. On the other side of her, Mira (7) and the twins (10) in between, her father had his hand out waiting for his teenage girl to give him the distraction.

Sighing to herself, Vivia dropped her phone in her father’s hand. He had reached over her siblings, capturing his daughter’s gaze with his harsh and stern expression. The person in the coffin was her grandmother on her mother’s side who she barely knew because she could’ve sworn that her mother had stopped talking to most of the family on her side. She had told her that family wasn’t always blood.

We may not be able to choose our relatives but we certainly can choose our family.

Families were people that wanted you and you wanted them too. Those that would do anything to see you smile and who would love you no matter what. The woman who was going to be six feet under by the end of the hour was her mother’s aunt, Rosa Caparelli. A woman who her mom had said was more of a mother than her own.

Vivia knew very little about this woman that rested in the coffin. Regardless of how she felt, part of her unfazed, she didn’t assume the stranger’s story. She didn’t get in contact with people she shouldn’t be talking to, solely for the purpose of digging up her family’s history. It was none of her business and it was clear as day her mom was hurting. Seeing her softhearted mother almost cry, or hold back the tears, royally sucked. Funerals, wakes, and good people dying royally sucked. This whole mass was dreadfully long and royally sucked.

The young minded teen leaned back in the pew and sighed in exhaustion and thought. She could at least try to be present for her mother, not thinking of the past or the future. Just be here, right now. That’s all her mother wants.

Leaning her head against her mother, Vivia softly and tightly questioned, “Why does this happen, mom? Why do people die?”

“That’s a very good question, baby,” Silvia placed her hand on top of her daughter’s as she watched mass come to an end. All things do. Soon they would watch the coffin leave the building and have to follow the hearse to the burial site. “Sometimes it’s okay to just look at the world and not understand. Sometimes it’s okay to find your own answers, but I know you and I know that answer isn’t good enough.”

The matriarch of the Belmonte family stood up, along with the rest, bringing Viv in a standing position too. As the procession began. there was a somber Christian song playing in the background. Silvia continued, trying her best to answer in a way where her daughter would be satisfied yet still curious. “I believe when we die, we turn into stories. It is more than just life after death. We are saved because Jesus died for our sins and our last breath becomes the birthday of our eternity. To me eternity is the stories our loved ones share that keep our memory alive. Really why we died doesn’t matter, Vivia.”

Silvia squeezed her daughter’s hand in comfort, “What matters is I love you completely and you love me. And if you feel like you don’t have love, that you’re all alone and you just want to disappear, just remember you are His princess. He is your protector, your truth, the one that holds your hand when I can’t. You aren’t ever alone and He, our God, will always love you. Death needs no reason, life does.”

The image of her mother faded and Vivia Belmonte, no longer a teenager, held onto a paintbrush. Her eyes fixed on her art piece that sat on an easel. Her painting was the back of Allison staring at the sky in a field of sunflowers. Gone but not forgotten.

Time was no longer something Viv was able to keep track of.

Ever since she moved in with ReyRey she found herself going through the motions. Doing errands for him when he asked, refraining from making contact with her family, trying to keep her distance for her own mental health, and just enjoying the solitude and peace she found herself in (more often than not). Something she rarely had when she lived under her father’s roof.

Placing her paintbrush down on the table beside her, she grabbed the rag resting beside her palette, her paints, her brushes, and a photo album of her and her friends throughout the years. There was a goldmine of pictures of Allison in there. Habitually, she and R2 would look through them together and reminisce. They loved her so deeply. What matters is I loved you completely and you loved me all the same, Baby. Vivia thought to herself as she cleaned the paint off her hands with the dirty rag.

Her gaze locked on her hands and the brown paint shifted to red, like blood on her hands. She was seeing things again. Fervently and frantically, she roughly rubbed the rag against her left hand, trying to clean Allison’s blood off. It wasn’t her fault her best friend died.

No, no. Death didn’t need a reason. It just happened.

Death ripped her best friend away and Vivia had to accept it. Despite that, she kept thinking of Allison everyday, replaying her mother’s words, and trying to convince herself that she could heal from this. God was going to make her strong. That’s what her church preaches. God makes you strong. He was her protector. Her purpose. Her truth. God was supposed to help her. Then why? Why did this hurt so much? Why was she so fucking weak? Why did it feel like His presence was nowhere to be found? Why?

She hadn’t felt the same since her best friend died. She loves to honor her memory through stories but all those memories haunt her head. Now that she didn’t have her family to distract her, Vivia could only think about the one fucking person that saw potential in her, not damage. She took Allison for granted and she couldn’t get her back. She was dead. Allison was dead. And all she could think about was the blood on her hands.

ReyRey sat in his parked Firebird outside of his home. He had bought the house with his first big money deal; a weed connect that had paid dividends. He had decided on the small conclave between the Southside and Westwood as it still meant he was close enough to his turf to make the waves that he needed but it also meant that the quality of living increased significantly. His home was modest, not flashy and for the longest time it was empty but now he had a guest, Viv.

He wanted his place to be a safety net for her, to keep her close. R2 had claimed the Belmonte girl years ago as his own. He had claimed her best friend, Allison, as well but now she was gone and it stuck in his heart like a jagged knife. Earlier that day, he had taken Allison’s young sister and made her his as well. Everything about Alexandria struck Rey hard and reminded him so much of Ally. Her chocolate eyes, her voice calling out his name when they were embracing each other’s bodies, the feel of her skin. But that’s all it was, reminders of that which was no longer here.

Lex wasn’t Ally and she never would be.

He reached over to the cup holder and picked up a bottle of water. He needed to wash her taste out of his mouth. ReyRey swilled the liquid around in his mouth before spitting it out of the open window. He climbed out of the car and made his way up the stairs to enter the house. Making his way into the living area, the King Snake dropped his keys on the coffee table before walking over to the house sitting at the easel. He dropped a light kiss onto her head.

“Mi Corazon.”

Snapping out of her trance from cleaning her hands, realizing it was only paint not blood, Vivia clutched onto the rag and looked up to her man, forcing a half hearted smile on her face. She was relieved he was here. She didn’t do isolation well. From staring into his brown eyes to going back to her painting, Viv absentmindedly placed the rag back on the table. Her tired blue eyes rested on the brown hair in her painting. She missed Allison so much, it hurt. Her memory was constantly on her mind and days like these, it became hard to breathe. “Did you get what you needed done?” The blonde Belmonte softly asked.

“Some of it, it’s gonna be a long day.” He wouldn’t say where he had been. Vivia was not a fool, she knew that ReyRey had other girls but to tell her that he had spent the morning with the departed’s little sister, that would be a lot for the fragile Viv to take right now. R2 rested his hands on the blonde’s soft cheek as he looked at what she had been painting. Allison, a field of sunflowers, her favourite. Everywhere he went he couldn’t escape her. The Queen of Clovers had penetrated every aspect of his life, every aspect of his being and had done the same to Vivia. They both loved her and they were both utterly haunted by her. “It’s beautiful, mami.”

“We were so excited to start highschool,” Vivia gave a half smile. “Before you and me, before Allison and Francis, before she fell apart, we were innocent and happy. I had returned from New York the day before our lives were going to change forever.” She brought her hand up to grab his — never looking away from her painting, “Before the boys, before the thought of our futures, before the distance of her leading the Clovers and me focusing on making my dad proud… I’d like to think that summer was the happiest for us because we were still kids. I remember her begging me to become a cheerleader but I was so determined to not end up in the shadow of my older sister. Cat was the cheerleader and while dad was extremely hard on her, I just know without her, dad would be lost. I wanted to be good enough. I wanted my dad to see me. But because of that, I didn’t see how sad she was,” Vivia frowned. Her grief was hard to bury when she had all this time to think. “I didn’t see her hurting.”

“We never know what’s happening behind closed doors,” Rey looked down at the painting again and the deathly feeling it gave him in the pit of his stomach. “Nobody saw her hurting. She hid it well.” Moving away from his lover and her canvas of pain, ReyRey made his way to the nearby couch and dropped himself down. He understood Viv’s hurt, the difference being that he was probably the cause of the pain in Allison being exasperated by supplying her with the chemicals and the drugs that would eventually take her life. It was his fault. “I’m going to be heading out of town tonight, I probably won’t be home until tomorrow.”

“Busy boy,” Vivia acknowledged, before following suit. Getting up from the stool, she let the painting sit there and take in the somber air. In feathery steps, she walked towards him and sat on his right side. Leaning her head on his shoulder, she closed her eyes, desperately wanting sleep but unable to give in to the weight in her chest, fog in her brain, and tug in her eyes, “You’ll be safe, won’t you? I don’t know what I’d do if you became a story.”

She hated him. She loved him. She couldn’t live without him. Vivia knew that what kept them together was a wish. A wish to bring Allison back. She knew she wasn’t his soulmate. She knew he wasn’t her’s. She also knew with absolute certainty that in their relationship she needed him as much as he needed her. At the end of one’s tether, she prayed for this feeling to stay a little longer. They were each other’s rock and they both were stuck in this endless storm. Without him she knew she’d be slipping, more so than she already was. She was lost and all she needed was to be found. She needed him.

“It’s just routine stuff, mami,” R2 leaned his head down atop Viv’s for a brief second, his way of acknowledging her feeling; a rarity usually but since that night on Carlisle, he had felt his heart softening somewhat to the girl's plight. “Just heading to Blue Hill, pick up the gear and then I’ll be back. No drama. Falls on a good day too since the Monteros are in town and I’d rather avoid them.” He reached out for his phone and dropped a message to Jalyn so she would know what time to expect him. It was coded for eyes only of course, so Viv would have no idea he was going not just for weed. “It’ll be ok.” He placed an arm around the Italian woman and gently caressed the point just below her ear. It was something he did with Allison as well, all his lovers, a tender spot he knew made them feel safe. “I miss her too.”

“Can we just sit here until you leave?” Vivia didn’t want to talk anymore. Talking took a lot out of her. The more she talked the more she realized how empty she felt. “I need you to be right here with me,” No talk about business. No talk about their pain. No talk about anything. Just him and her, holding onto each other. “Right here, right now. Can you do that for me, ReyRey?” She needed a break from the past and she had no idea where her future would lead her to. Maybe dead, right next to Allison. That would be a dream.

For now, she wanted to be present with the one comfort keeping her together. The one person that reminded her it was okay to feel what she felt and that there’s nothing worse that could happen to them because they’ve already gone through their nightmare. They already lost the person they loved so, so dearly. So, so deeply. They were already broken beyond repair and she’d rather sit in this pain than talk about it. She needed him.

ReyRey didn’t say anything back, he just squeezed her closer to him. Wherever he was, he was surrounded by pain, guilt and hurt. He felt like Caesar, succumbing to a thousand stab wounds albeit slowly. His strength, his fire, it was leaking out of him slowly like blood from a bullet to the head. His father was an old broken man. His sister, the first to ever name him ReyRey, was tormented by the devil himself. Vivia, the one that should have his heart but whom he is unable to give it to because it was buried six feet underground in the hands of Allison Davies; she was barely human anymore. She was a husk. Nothing like she once was.

They say only God forgives, in Rey’s mind, God only forsakes.

Edenridge

_{Shortly after Keep My Head Above Water - Monday Afternoon
A Collab with the Heartbreakers, Nina Belmonte, Avery Kaine, and Rosie Hawthorne-Drake @metanoia}


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Sitting in the parking lot of Palermo, Caterina leaned back in her seat, replaying her last moments with Clay. Closing her eyes, her heart aching at her stupidity, she tried to gather herself, settle her emotions, and focus on the now before seeing her sister. Ninetta had this scary intuition and was the only person who could see past Cat’s mask. That is what the eldest Belmonte child did not want.

It was Monday afternoon at Palermo. There might be a customer or two but Mondays were rarely busy. If it was busier than normal, it usually was because it was a holiday. Struggling to put his face out of her mind, seeing how quick he threw on that token, dumb grin of his before leaving the apartment, her heart broke at the realization that Clayton Costigan was so much like her. She was terrified at how raw everything felt with him and how much she so desperately wanted to be with him. In such a short span of time too.

All this time, she thought he was happy. His lifestyle was so carefree, so jovial, so… simple. This past week, though? Broke down her idea of him. She didn’t see him anymore as the boy next door who liked to joke and flirt. No, she saw Clay as a lonely soul who so desperately, like her, wanted to feel loved and needed.

In reality, he wasn’t the only one that built a fantasy around the other. Cat somehow convinced herself that no matter how old Clay got, no matter how many times he made advances, no matter how much time he spent being there for her, even if it was small moments at her sandwich shop, somehow she convinced herself he was not a man. It made it easier to deal with the attraction.

This feeling, the spark, the chemistry, the overwhelming adoration, she wanted to avoid because it scared her. It scared her to no end. In this moment, as she sat here thinking about him and only him, she realized she might’ve always felt something between them. Everytime she found out he slept with one of her friends, she got jealous. Even way back when, when he was an Elite and he slept with that Pinehurst girl, she had some kind of sensation that she needed to bury because she was married and ten years older than him.

When the crowd went wild and she was sitting on the bleachers for his last game, she saw him alone and she gravitated to him, instantly. There was a natural pull, like magnetic attraction. Cat hated seeing him alone and deep down part of her always knew he wasn’t being completely honest with himself. Someone who should be happy… she caught sight of the exact opposite. She saw her own reflection through Clay and she found herself running into him, over and over again throughout the years. Did it really take a night at the Afterlife to realize how attracted she was to him?

This was why she needed to slow things down and think twice. This is why she needed to search for the reasons it wouldn’t work and avoid the hurt completely. It was selfish of her to take advantage of his kindness. It was selfish of her to lean on him so much and be a burden. It was selfish of her for wanting him. He could be happy with anyone else. He certainly looks good with just about anyone he’s ever dated…

But he chose her.

He loved her.

Why?

Coming back from the depths of her mind, Caterina patted her cheeks and put her game face on. In a matter of minutes, she was out of her car and carrying a brown bag with italian cheese, ricotta cheese, porcini mushrooms, and anchovies inside of it. Making her way inside of Palermo, she grinned when she saw her darling sister behind the bar checking inventory, making sure it was well stocked and clean. Surveying the general
area, Cat only noticed two girls eating pasta in one of the booths. Other than that, it was a quiet Monday. “Hey you, I got the goods.”

“You’re a lifesaver,” Nina excitedly waved at her sister, before gesturing with her rag toward the kitchen, “You know where to put it, then come back so I can fix you a drink.”

“Oh, day drinking?” Placing her free hand on her chest, in honest shock and awe, Cat curiously inquired, “Since when did you condone that behavior?” Making her way inside the kitchen, Cat’s eyebrows rose, wondering if her vanilla sister caught a fever. Was Nina enabling her problem? Or could she already tell that her older sister was severely depressed and no smile could hide that from her? So much for trying to play pretend.

Damn empath.

Nina shrugged as she put the rag away, washed her hands, and started fixing her sister a classic Aperol Spritz, “We haven’t seen much of each other since my trip to Cape Cod with our babies. I thought we could celebrate!”

From the kitchen, Cat started putting some of the ingredients away and loudly replied back, “Celebrate what?” While not one to deny a drink, Cat found it hard to believe that her sister wasn’t up to something.

What was Nina up to?

“A new era, of course!” Nina called back.

Returning to the bar, the eldest Belmonte grabbed the gorgeous golden-orange drink and took a ginger sip. Bubbly, refreshing, and slightly bitter. Instead of saying anything, she watched her sister she was closest to lean against the bar, observing her with gentle, yet contemplative eyes. Taking another sip of her drink, Cat expressed her feelings through her face: what?

Puzzled and a little nervous that Nina had a good read already of her emotional turmoil, Cat guzzled down her drink. Stop looking at me like that.

“You know, you don’t have to down every drink that gets handed to you like that. It’s okay to savor it.”

“Hey, you gave me this. It’s your fault.”

Cat wasn’t wrong about that.

“That’s true, but I wanted to see something,” Nina admitted, her agenda steadily coming to the surface. “How are you feeling? Since the fight.”

There it was. The worry. “Like shit, but it only gets better from here. We haven’t seen each other since I dropped the kids off, but even then it was brief.” Pushing her glass to her sister, expressing with her eyes for another, Cat watched as Nina took the glass and rolled her eyes. She did make her another drink and this sparked a question that Cat thought she’d never ask Nina specifically. This was more of a Brooke and Harpy thing to do. “Are you trying to get me drunk?”

“Just helping you ease a bit because I know you and I know the news you heard about mom last week is killing you, on top of plenty of other things.” In three minutes, another Aperol Spritz was made and pushed toward her sister. “I don’t usually condone this but you’ve been… scattered lately. Your store hours have been sporadic, you don’t visit me as much, and I can tell you’ve just had a lot on your mind. The test is soon too, are you nervous?”

This is what Cat gets for telling her sister almost everything. Nina knew too much. Well, one thing she didn’t know was the reason behind her shop not opening at a consistent time the past week. It was hard to leave her boyfriend’s side when she didn’t have the kids around and she could cuddle with him until he had to go to work. Cat wanted to spend as much time as she could with Clay which was kind of embarrassing now that she thought back on it. He made her feel like a blushing bride. He loved her tenderly but also fucked her senseless. The best of both worlds. “I’m not nervous about the test. I’m more worried about—”

“—how dad would react?”

“Yeah. But I don’t really want to think about that right now. Or about mom’s time running out,” A lot sooner than expected. Silvia only had at most two weeks left and only her, Nina, and dad knew. Guzzling down her second drink, Cat was not only thinking about how things ended with her boyfriend but also now her parents.

“You know what you need?”

“More booze?”

Ha. Funny.

Cat did a funny.

“No. You need to dance,” Exiting the bar, Nina went to the TouchTunes Virtuo Smart Jukebox and swiped through the songs, “That’s something I haven’t seen you do in awhile. It’s part of who you are, sissy, so you should definitely make time for it.”

From the booth over, Avery Kaine, daughter of the owner of Swerve Arcana, silently chewed a mouthful of lasagna as she read the new Langley. Across from her was Rosalie Hawthorne-Drake, her fellow coworker, daughter of the Vice Principal of Edenridge High, and partner in crime when it came to them being bored out of their fucking mind. Glancing up from her book, Avery’s baby blues gravitated to Clayton’s dream woman’s ass and her attention was no longer on the next adventure of the Paper Warriors. With little regard to their privacy, Avery eavesdropped on the conversation between the two hot Italian sisters.

Rosie Hawthorne-Drake sat with legs crossed under the table, dividing her not-so-fixated gaze on both the issue of the latest Psylocke issue and the gathering of mature hotties that she noticed Avery just couldn’t stop drooling over. Giggling almost at the sight, Rosie tried to keep her nose out of it but Avery always managed to poke at her curiosity even if she didn’t mean to. So naturally, the blonde was also lending her ear to a conversation that they weren’t intended for.

Before Nina pressed on the song she decided on, she turned to Cat, who was already done with her second drink, and reminisced over the times when they were young, with no adult responsibilities, “You had a big test? Instead of spending the whole night studying, you spent two hours practicing a new routine. You wanted number 7 to notice you? You spent the whole weekend practicing new moves just so you could impress him at a party. If there’s one thing you need, it’s to stop your brain for a little and just dance, like you’re in the club everyday. Ain’t got time to cry in it.”

“Okay, NayNay, I get it. You’re worried about me, but I promise you I’m okay. I swear,” Furrowed eyebrows, frustrated and a little peeved, Cat crossed her arms to face her sister by the jukebox. What was she on about?

“How did your 2004 mix for the Shining Star tournament start? Oh yeah, that’s right,” While not a cheerleader, nor a dancer, Nina was the main sibling that helped her sister with her routines and gave her positive motivation when she struggled to learn new moves. Bringing the past back, she pretended to hold a mic (mind you, Nina was completely sober) and began to announce, “Ladies & Gents, it’s time to get lucky!” Unbeknownst to Cat, Brooke crept from behind her, hiding within the bar and made her way to the two girls eating.

“Hey babes, can you record us?” The sexy goddess whispered.

“Prepare for the next chapter of the Edenridge Clovers.” Nina went on.

Confused but distracted by the woman’s sex appeal and smooth, flawless skin, Avery grabbed Brooke’s phone and agreed dumbfoundedly. Whatever was going to happen, it was going to be gold. The comic nerd hoped it was what she was thinking. She prayed to something, anything, anyone that this would be one of her wet dreams come true.

This would be a live lesbian porno.

Only time could tell.

“Whoa, now that was unexpected.” Rosie’s interest doubled, a pair of blue eyes solely on Avery, though they diverted to the gathering of Edenridge’s hottest milf or would-be milfs that totally didn’t serve as the immediate inspiration for the next arc in her graphic novel series.

Beside her sister now, Nina dramatically posed and pointed to the ceiling, like she was Michael Jackson. “This is it, Sisters of Green, back to give you the best.”

Oh yeah. This was going to be good. Once she wiped her lips and fingers with her napkin, Avery started recording. First the video focused on Brooke’s mischievous smirk as she crouched in front of the young girls, waiting for her cue.

Rosie immediately pulled out her phone, though she hid it between the Langley latest that Avery brought and the Psylocke one that Rosie brought. She had to capture this for…research and there was no way in the unforgiveable summer Boston hell that she was going to let not only the objects of Avery’s wet dreams, but now hers, call her out for being a perv. Of course, they’d be right, but Rosie could be a sneak. So as the recording started, Rosie just started to rapidfire the shots. Good thing her camera on her iPhone was the best.

“The legendary Clovers—”

Quietly, Brooke took off her leather jacket to reveal her tight black tank. Unable to take her eyes off her, Avery thought to herself, ‘Gods, this woman is so fucking hot’ and was wondering if she was caught in some fever dream. Little did she know what was yet to come.

Brooke’s gaze went from Avery then to Rosie, all while a video was being recorded. “You two are about to experience a once in a lifetime thing. The Clover Heartbreakers, back at it again. Watch your hearts because we’re about to break it,” She said their cheesy slogan and even gave the camera a wink.

“—Let’s make the Monarchs kiss our…” Nina put her finger on her lips and gave a dramatic, loud, and expressive “Shuush.”

Cat was stunned.

Perking up, Brooke finally got her cue and baby was she ready. It was time for her to shine and cut in. Sauntering her way to her alluring mama friend, Brooke cheered, “We bleed Green: We’re stronger now!”

Cat was caught off guard as Brooke latched onto her and forced her into a tight embrace. “We got you, bitch. We’re always here for you, you know that.”

Then from out of the kitchen, Cat heard Vanessa. “We bleed Green: Can’t take our crown!” Her sister from another mister who too was unhappily married. Wait, did Cat miss her? Not too long ago she was in the kitchen. Was she in the kitchen this whole time?

“Nessi?” She questioned, almost in disbelief. No longer with her arms crossed, the eldest Belmonte covered her mouth in heartfelt shock.

What was going on?

“We live it, we breathe it, you better believe it!” Harper in her cute, tiny black dress poked up from behind the piano. HARPY WAS HERE?! The blonde of the crew jumped in excitement, her boobs bouncing with every hop. Harper pranced with her heels to the growing group and crashed into her friends, giving them a big bear hug and kissing Cat all over.

They were almost complete.

In unison, like the sisterhood that they were, Brooke, Vanessa, and Harper shouted, “Lucky Clovers!”

And finally, from the second floor dining area, Lydia with her fierce bitchface exclaimed, in the best attempt at a cheery she could do, “This is our NOW!” The moment her best friend, who worked an awful lot, came into the picture, Cat couldn’t contain her joy any longer. She started crying tears of joy, flooded with happiness. Like a wrecking ball, she ran to Lydia, who rushed downstairs and picked her tiny friend up and spun her around.

Cat did enjoy getting picked up… it was something Lyds learned in middle school. Once Lydia kissed her best friend on the cheek, she whispered something in her ear that no one else could hear. “What are you all doing here?!”

”We were sent an SOS,” Harper shrugged, adjusting her dress that was slipping down.

Vanessa tied her hair up, preparing for the next surprise, “Lyds texted us all so we all took some time off.”

“WE’RE GETTING FUCKED UP TODAYYYY!” Brooke shouted, pouring herself a quick shot of whiskey. Ready to get turnt.

“I can’t take all the credit, Nina caught me up so we wanted to do something for you. But that’s enough with being sappy. Let’s dance. I’m only doing this right now so make use of it. I’m too old for this shit.” Lydia explained.

The moment was interrupted when Nina started one of the songs that was on their cheer mix. She played Destiny Child’s Lose my Breath and without hesitation, Cat’s friends got into position in front of the bar and broke into the start of an old routine that was ingrained in their minds.

With the bar as their backdrop, Caterina took center, with Vanessa and Brooke to her left and Lydia and Harper to her right. The dance therapy was exactly what Cat needed. Her deep emotions as well as her overwhelming amount of sensuality, with no restraints, flowed out of her. Flowed out of all of them, honestly. And at least for this moment, Cat was smiling and enjoying herself.

For close friends, the Heartbreakers had undeniable sexual chemistry and together, when they danced, they were aphrodisiac, bootylicious, and dirty. Keeping the camera on these ladies as they danced, Avery looked at Rosie and mouthed, “What the fuck?” This was no joke. A dream of hers was coming true. The Clovers were known for their sex appeal but these five ladies, the Heartbreakers? They brought it up to another level. They broke the goddamn scale of sexy. Why wasn’t Avery born in their year? She would’ve killed to see more of their performances because now watching all this, she was hot and bothered. She was thirsty. Clay was going to want to see this, she just knew!

If she had one word to describe what both she and Avery just witnessed, it might just be a damn miracle. On their damn break, not only were they going to eat some damn good food that not even her father’s world famous Drake Dogs could top, but to be given the show of a lifetime. Avery was salivating, there was no doubt about that. She knew her bestie and if she wasn’t showing it, then it was happening elsewhere that even Rosie didn’t need to know about. Meanwhile, the blonde was getting so many ideas. How to articulate sexuality in a fun, unpredictable way. And those pictures? Yep, they’re going on her private blog as soon as she had a moment to…appreciate the photos intimately.

“All I can say is…wow.” Rosie, thy name is in awe.

Before the two observers realized, one song became another, but the next one was not in the Clover books and completely improvised (Cat and her friends choreographed this on their own). Something the Heartbreakers performed at the talent show (their senior year) and it was to Christina Aguilera’s Dirrty _{(watch the first dance set with the five girls)}. At this point, both Avery and Rosie were standing up and moving closer to the show. This was their own personal and metaphorical lap dance and they were living.

Clayton was going to be so jealous.

Edenridge

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_{Flashback: Same day as "Kids in America" flashback.
@BrutalBx & @LovelyComplex}

Violet Hawthorne, soon to be junior of Edenridge High, walked beside Francesca Belmonte (six years old), Nina’s little girl, who was in full girl scout wear, pulling a red wagon of cookies. The sweet summer child, a Scout Daisy, had a cold when the other scouts were in front of the Godmothers selling cookies, so she had to meet her quota with her Scoutmaster. They had already gone through Scott Street and now it was time to take on the business owners.

Cesca was determined! She wanted to hit this whole town by the end of the day, with the exception of the southside. Mommy wouldn’t like her going there. Too dangerous. There was a tiny grassy green portable kids radio in the wagon beside the cookies, blasting kid songs. Right now Why Should I Worry from Oliver & Company was playing in the background.

“... whoo, whoo, whoo, whoo, whooooo. I’m street smart, I’ve got New York City heart,” Cesca happily sang as they marched down the sidewalk. She was a girl on a mission but she was also a girl just having a fun day with one of the people she looked up to and strived to be. Violet had such a smart brain and pretty face. And she was friendly! She also had all the badges ever in the world and a heart made of gold. Mommy loved Scoutmaster Violet, so did Cesca.

The two girls walked down the sidewalk, greeting those walking past them with smiles and waves as they made their way to their destination. Swerve Arcana. As they approached the building, Violet timidly sang with her little one the chorus of the Disney song, “Why should I worry? Why should I care? I may not have a dime. But I got street savoire faire.”

“Why should I worry? Why should I care? It’s just a bebopulation. And I’ve got street savoire faire!”

Nina knew how to raise them, that’s for sure. She kept her children cultured. Most of the shows and movies Francesca knew were things Violet group on, like DuckTales. Cesca loved DuckTales. Cesca also loved the Mighty Ducks and the Swan Princess. A true geek in the making that had a thing for birds, it seemed. When they arrived in front of the comic book store, Cesca was quick to turn off her radio and straighten her vest.

Squeezing her shoulder, Violet whispered, “You ready?”

“I got this!” Giving her Scoutmaster the wagon handle, Cesca led the way, with Violet close by, and went straight to the tall counter. Standing on her tiptoes, she tried to reach for the bell. Alas, she was too tiny and could not reach. DOOM! Violet let go of the wagon handle, picked up the little Belmonte, and helped her ring the bell herself.

Coming out of the backroom, having stuffed her face with a glorious chili dog, Avery Kaine with mustard on her face saw at a distance one of her best friends and a little one. “Just a minute!” In a matter of seconds, the proud lesbian who was unapolgetically herself (a fool, a geek, and a weirdo) wiped her face, chugged down her cherry coke, and loudly belched. Okay, she was good. Making her way to the counter, she leaned over to see the grinning face of Francesca with a cute green beret on. “Well hey little girl, how can I help you?”

Violet took a step back to let Francesca practice her social skills and take charge of her sale. As she let the conversation unfold, she placed her hands in her jean jacket pocket and grabbed a hold of two bracelets she made.

“Hi! Hello! Yes!” Cesca nervously giggled, before introducing herself, “My name is Francesca!” The little Belmonte excitedly cheered, wanting to beat her fellow girl scouts in sales. She was going to be the bestest, she just needed to tell the world these cookies were delicious and they had to have it. She was going to sell the most! “And I’m here today to support the girl scouts, by selling cookies, uh…” She blanked for a moment before remembering, “Four dollars a box! Do you want some?”

“Sounds dope.”

“Really?!”

“Cookies are fan-fu--” Just when she was about to curse, Avery changed her course of words because Violet gave her a death glare, “--dging-tastic. Fan-fudging-tastic, yeah! What you got?”

Clapping to herself, happy this business deal was going smoother than her other ones went, Cesca speedily went to her wagon to showcase the flavors, “We got creamy mint treasures, English butter toffee, chocolate, banana, caramel, s’mores, pecan, samoas, PEANUT BUTTER! We got so much!”

Nonchalantly, Avery dug into her pants pocket, took out her wallet, and grabbed a fifty, “I’ll take five of each.”

Eyes widened and her jaw dropping, Francesca was stunned one person was buying so many! She turned to Violet to see if it was a good sale. Violet smiled and nodded and Cesca was quick to run back to the counter and reach for the money, “Thank you, thank you so much! You won’t regret it. I promise.”

“Girl scout cookies are my weakness, you came to the right place.”

Once the transaction was completed, Violet put all the cookies on the counter, which unintentionally hid Avery’s face, and laughed, “Your dad is going to kill you.”

“What? Nah. He’ll eat most of these before I even get the chance.” Both Avery and Violet’s attention went to the entrance when they heard a loud ruckus.

Stumbling into the large life size cut out of Spider-Man, no doubt Mr Kaine’s idea to help promote the new Homecoming film with new Spiderguy….Tom something…Clay tried to catch it before it hit the floor. He failed. And this was a high school athlete. As he picked up the friendly neighbourhood super hero, he realised that he had now bent it.

“Oops.”

Throwing the red and blue spider dude into the manga section, Clay dusted his hands off and swaggered over to the counter; jumping up and taking a seat onto it when he got there. He reached into one of the boxes of cookies that were randomly there and started munching down.

“Ahoy ladies!” He said with his mouthful.

Violet chuckled as she looked up at Clay. He was a goofball. Turning to the six year old, she pulled out a twenty, “Hey, why don’t you get yourself a comic? It’s a gift for all your hard work! That was a BIG sale.” Francesca was giddy, exchanging her earned money for the collective and taking her reward.

“Thank you, Scoutmaster!” The little girl was quick to disappear in the maze that was Swerve Arcana. A fantasy land for kids.

Exiting the register area, Avery went beside Clay and leaned against the counter, “Look who decided to show up, McDungus.”

“Ahoy!” With proper posture, Violet took one of her hands out of her jacket pocket and shyly waved at her only guy friend (Violet not only had two best friends that were two years older than her but she spent most of her days as a part time babysitter and a full time scout ambassador). As seemingly sad as it seemed, she had more kid friends than actual friends her own age. Even so, she was okay with that. Avery and Clay were extremely important to her. More than they’d ever know.

The dynamic goofy duo adopted her one day in the library. Avery had dragged Clay with her so they could work on their research papers. The first thing Clay did was try to flirt with her, but of course it was rewarded with Avery slapping his head and the two of them finding out that Violet was the VP’s daughter. That same day they found out that she was teased by people in her year for being a ‘school pet’ and her peers thought the only reason she got good grades was because of her mother’s authority. Not actually because she was a good girl and a smart one too.

From there, Clay and Avery taught Violet how to navigate through the school drama and politics, even taking her to her first party. Tha party was a lot of Clay shielding Violet from sexual harrassment and Avery getting high off her goddamn mind. Regardless, Violet balanced them and even if she didn’t realize how important she was to the now graduated seniors, she was. She centered them and made them feel loved, in her own cute way. Tweedledee and Tweedledum liked having a morally sound friend with them. Lord knows the rest of their friends were not this innocent. It gave them someone worth protecting, and it felt good to have her in their lives.

Upon finishing an entire box of cookies, Clay tossed the rubbish into a nearby trash bin and dusted the crumbs off of his shirt. “What’s going down in groove town? What’s with all the cookies?”

“I wanted them,” Avery clicked her tongue as she reached for the Samoas, “I’m being a good samaritan and supporting our local scout girls and whatever charity cause they’re donating to. I’m practically Jesus. The Lord and Savior of cookies.”

“Well, actually, you’re just helping us fund the program. We can only use the money earned through these activities for purposes of giving these girls the resources and tools they need. Like a camping trip, for example. This fifty dollars could go to that. It’s actually against policy to solicit money for other organizations. And immoral. Why abuse little girls to earn money for charity? This is their hard earned money, you know?”

There Violet went… over explaining.

“Got it, got it. These cookies are fucking good regardless of where the money goes. The money could go in a stripper’s ass and I’d be okay with it,” Avery shoved another cookie in her mouth.

“Avery!”

“I know, I know. Language. There’s a child somewhere in here. Blah, blah, blah,” with a full mouth of cookies, Avery glanced up at Clay and apathetically asked, “How are you, dude? Ready to pop a cap in psychos and pedos? Pew, pew.”

“Why do people keep saying this? I’m not a cop yet. I have to go through like four more years of school.” Clay looked at Violet, the smartest of the three and sighed. He loved Avery but sometimes she was the real McDungus, a name she had bequeathed upon him their very first month of friendship. “I’m all packed to head to Lowell if that’s what you mean. It’s a good job I’m not far away I don’t think you’d last five minutes without me.”

With all the grace of a trucker, Clayton did a sudden back roll off of and behind the counter. When he popped back up into view, he was now holding a Monster that his darling Avery had so many spares of in her secret mini-fridge. He cracked open the can and took a big gulp. With a satisfied sigh, he looked at the two girls starting holes through him. “Listen, I was partying with Sawyer last night and then I had to deal with my sister, Duke and Jamie all day. I need the pick me up.”

“Partying hard and then out you go, leaving us behind. Classic Clay,” Avery teased, placing her cookie box down and clearing her throat, “...and how’s Jamie doing?” Of course she was going to use this opportunity to know the whereabouts of her fantasy unicorn babe. Jamie never noticed her when she did attend Edenridge High, so it wasn’t like she stood a chance. Even so, Jamie O'Hara's face was engraved in her mind and as long as she was happy, Avery was happy.

As Avery probed to know about her crush, Violet anxiously moved back and forth on her heel and toes. She kept a smile on and didn’t say a word as her friends talked about their future adult adventures. Part of her hated that they were two years older than her. The rational side in her told her Avery wasn’t going anywhere. She’d be here, in this comic book store, but the irrational side of her said it wouldn’t be the same. Clay was going away and they wouldn’t be walking the halls of Edenridge High anymore. They wouldn’t joke around in the library and then get hushed by the librarian. They wouldn’t exchange snacks in the cafeteria. And she wouldn’t have two older kids to throw cartoon bandaids on when they were being dumb. She was sad at the thought that this was ending but she hid it behind a bright, beautiful smile.

“I can put in a good word for you, Avery,” Clay might have been God’s favourite idiot but in the language of love, he was a certified genius and he knew that his darling nerd friend had been in love with his amazing popular friend forever. “I have known Jamie O’Hara, literally, from diapers.” He took a sip from his drink before continuing. “I can probably convince her to give you a date. I’m good like that, like one of those little baby’s with wings that shoots arrows.”

As if on cue, Clay was struck by a balled up piece of paper. He turned to see his attacker and punched him square in the mouth but before he did, he recognised the face and the hair and that horrible taste in fashion that stood before him in the doorway. It was fucking Oz, flanked by one Quinton Woods.

“You mean a Cupid, you moron.” The long haired metal lord made his way into Swerve Arcana and patted his young charge on the top of his goriest Afro. “I submit for the approval of the Midnight Society, the tale of the infinite mullet.” He flashed the devil horns with a Gene Simmons like tongue wave before grinning. “Go get the game set up, Q, in the back room over there. The rest of the Society will be here soon.” As the boy followed his gamemaster's orders, he darted a dirty look at Clay which was understandable since the man they call ‘The Hair’ had slept with his sister not too long ago and not called her back.

Anthony Osso or to everyone else other than his father, Oz. With his long hair, denim jacket and leather pants, one would assume that he was a Serpent. Yet the actual truth of the matter was that Oz and his family came from Westbrook. He was metal, man. He didn’t have to play the games that those assholes on Carlisle and Scott Street played. No, he was the dungeon master in charge of a small group of high IQ’d and misunderstood teens like himself that he called the Midnight Society. They were the misfits, the outlaws, the ones that the great storybook called ‘Americana forgot about’ when all was said and done.

Oz had almost found his way into this other band of misfits by accident. He had decided to crash Francis Callahan’s seventeenth birthday party as a freshman. He didn’t much care for the Elite and what they stood for. Armed with paint guns and a Sabbath soundtrack, he invaded the O’Hara McMansion only to be swept off his feet by a mousy girl who had definitely had too much to drink.

He made his way over to the group of older kids by the counter and wrapped his arms around Violet's chest from behind. In a stark comparison to his appearance he gently laid a kiss to her cheek. “Hey idiots, what’s going on?” Oz greeted.

With the sudden appearance of her boyfriend, Violet’s gentle soul, modest nature, and delicate sweetness took surface in her face. Her cheeks peeked the pinkest of champagnes as she took her hands out of her jacket pockets and held onto his arms. It was still surreal that she had a boyfriend. A boy with a complicated attitude, trouble as most would put it, but who saw her through their large class of beautiful people. He was in her class too, which meant she wasn’t losing everyone. Her anxiety eased in his hold. She leaned back and looked up at him, before bringing her eyes back to Clay and Avery. People had their opinions on Anthony, but to her, he made her feel important. Wanted. Loved.

Dangerous, hot thing was what Violet thought when he directed her away from the drinking games that she could barely keep up with and led her to a quiet area in the backyard with a glass of water in hand. That night she found out they had English Literature, Physical Education, and Spanish together. For once, she could talk about anything and everything with someone her age and he didn’t judge her for it. This was honestly the best feeling ever and the night ended with her smiling, telling him she would tell her mom about him. And now, here they were, about to enter their junior year, going almost a year strong (she was shy and didn’t immediately jump the gun to date him).

“Well first off: Clay, you’re full of shit. The moment Jamie gives me the time of day is the moment you find yourself alone in a bedroom with Cat.” Avery teased before grabbing a new box of girl scout cookies.

Clay lifted his index finger to pause his friend. “Don’t bring my Kitty into this, Avery.” Using his unrequited love for the owner of the Godmother’s was a low blow.

“You’ll be aiiiight,” Avery smirked, as her eyes went from one friend to the next. “Secondly, gross you two. Save some love for the rest of us. Stop being so goddamn cute.” She proceeded to shake the box in front of the metal lord’s face, “Want some, Ozzy? I bought a shit ton and to answer your question, we just vibin’ here.”

“O-M-G!” Francesca hugged The Essential Calvin and Hobbes: A Calvin and Hobbes Treasury book as she looked at her Scoutmaster in an intimate embrace like her mommy and daddy do. “Are you two in loveeeeeeeee?”

Amused, Avery grinned and pointed to the youngster with her thumb, “I like this kid.”

Violet’s heart rushed at Cesca’s bold question and her blush was no longer only concentrated on her cheeks. Her whole face was beaming red as she said in a hushed, embarrassed tone, “I, um…” Was it silly of her to say this right here, right now? Her honest to god’s opinions, even if they were still young, was yes, but was that being too forward? “...do.” She could only speak for herself. That’s all she could do.

Suddenly, feeling a desperate need to change the subject, scared to hear his response, Violet dug into her pockets once more and pulled out four bracelets. Handmade and woven with love, by her. Green for Clay. Yellow for Avery. Purple for herself. Blue for Oz. “I wanted to show you guys how thankful I am for everything you’ve done for me…”

“Oh neato! Scoutmaster Violet, can you teach me how to make those?” Cesca was no longer looking at the cuddly boy with wide eyes. Now she was hyper focused on the woven friendship bracelets. The little girl’s gaze sparkled in excitement.

“Of course, sweetheart.”

“Well shiiiiii--” Child, there is a child right there, Aves. “--iiiiiitake mushrooms. We’re not going to be that far, Vi,” Avery’s gay heart was touched and with her free hand, the one not holding the cookie box, she grabbed her bracelet. So fucking sweet. What did she do to deserve a friend like Violet? Such a good natured, humble, and delightful girl. Definitely was way too good for them.

With one arm still wrapped around Violet, Oz slipped his wrist into the bracelet that his girlfriend had made. It wasn’t really his style as it wasn’t made from leather, denim or have studs that could kill a man attached to it but Vi had poured her heart into it so then that would mean the world to him. “Fits nicely next to my cuff, thanks little pet.” Ozzy knew the anxiety that Vi was feeling. Through conversations they’d talked about how very lonely she was before the Tweedles found her. Now they were growing up and leaving her.

Clay held up his bracelet to his eyes and narrowed them. He was confused. Not by the bracelet, green was one of his colors but by the entire events of the day. From a weird goodbye with Sawyer, to his time with the Elite and now this. Everyone he had encountered was acting like he was dying. He was going to be two hours away in Lowell. It wasn’t like he was moving across the universe. He tied the bracelet around his wrist and smiled at the demure girl who had fired them. “Thanks Violet, this is very sweet of you.”

“Ok ok ok ok okay,” Oz clapped his hands together to disrupt, a classic move. “Too much loving going on here, now I gotta go take these young kids through a campaign of terror and horror the likes of which no mere mortal has ever seen. That is if I can get Q to stop talking about this goth Asian chick in his class. Like we get it, dude. It’s a fetish.” He dropped a kiss to the top of his girlfriend's head. “I’ll see you tonight.” He looked at the Tweedles. “Catch you later, dweebs,” Ozzy turned and jumped over a plume of comics before making his way through a door into a game area.

“Avery, kid, if we ever get divorced you can have the kids.”

“I’m upset my son didn’t want any cookies. He’s missing out.” Avery placed the box down, the one she had offered to Oz moments ago before Cesca started gushing over the love fest. Lifting her arm in the air to look at her bracelet, she smiled, “You really didn’t have to do this, Vi, but thank you.”

“I know, but I wanted to,” Glancing at her wrist watch, with her own bracelet beside it, Violet sighed, knowing her time with her friends was coming to an end. “I need to go… we have a few more stops to make before I have to bring her to her mom.” At this point, Francesca was sitting on the floor by her wagon, reading her book she had yet to purchase because her Scoutmaster was having a moment with her friends.

“Hey,” Avery shuffled her way to her unassuming friend and pulled her into a hug with one arm, “Don’t worry about a thing, okay? We’re a phone call away. We’re not going anywhere.” From playful with no class to soothing and calm, Avery did what she did best and calmed Violet’s storm, “I know you care. I know you care a lot, Dimples, but things aren’t going to change for the worse. You really think we aren’t going to make time for you? You’re the best of us, Vi, there’s no way in hell we’re going to let that go. I’ll make sure of it,” Resting her chin on Violet’s head, she side-glanced to the future cop-in-the-making and coolly asked, “Right, Clay?”

“Yeah sure,” At that point Clay had already tuned out of the conversation as a pretty brunette was perusing the DC section of the store. He polished off his Monster, tossed a stick of gum in his mouth and like a gazelle in heat, leapt over the counter and slid to the side of the would-be customer. He brushed a hand through his hair of legend and smiled charmingly.

“Hey there, anything I can help you with? I’m Clay.”

Edenridge

____________________________________________________________________


^{Monday morning, right around 6 AM
@LovelyComplex & @metanoia}
____________________________________________________________________

That dream came up again.

Danny was on the court shooting back to back to back at the free throw line. He’d toss the ball in, another ball would bounce to him from the surrounding darkness and he’d repeat. It was him, the ball, and the net. He wore his uniform, number 27, and he focused in so those watching were impressed.

There was no one watching.

There was only darkness.

His basketball shoes hugged his soles, his shoelaces were tied tightly out of fear of them loosening and him tripping, his uniform was pressed and unwrinkled. He was clean, untouched, and full of life. Danny was young. Danny was dumb. Danny was happy.

No luck but what we make. He repeated in his head as he continued to shoot consecutively into the hoop not missing once. He was on fire and he knew he’d make it to the big leagues. Danilo Belmonte was born great and was destined for great things. He just had to keep his head in the game.

That is until the mantra turned into a voice, all around him, and his ball bounced off the rim. The voice he heard was his father’s: “Some day you’re going to look back at this and want it all back again. Don’t ruin what you have, son. You have a good thing. We Belmontes, we don’t fail. We can’t afford to.”

Another ball bounced back to him. Every time it hit the court floor it resounded and echoed, taking over his heightened senses. Danny caught it and took a moment to wipe the sweat off his forehead. He was tired. He couldn’t breathe.

“Do it again. Shoot twenty five more times. Make all of them. If you miss, start all over again. Do it until you can’t feel your arms anymore, you hear? What is it I tell you, son?”

“Don’t get bitter, get better,” Danny exasperatedly breathed as his shoelaces tightened around him, strangling his feet, forcing him to stay rooted to the gym floor. This was all on him and he couldn’t let his old man down.

Listening to Taz give him constant criticism caused Danny to shrink into his child self. Exhausted but desperate to make his father proud, Danny refused to stop. There was no way he’d stop. Not when he’s made it this far. Not when the net was this close and if he made the shot, he’d win at life. He’d win and be exactly who he was supposed to be.

Little Danny tossed the ball once more but instead of it going to the rim, Coach O’Hara grabbed it, “What are you doing 27? You’re supposed to be running laps with the rest of them!” Fervently and nervously nodding, Danny rushed forward past John and saw the Elite marching like toy soldiers. Tailing behind them, he matched their movements as they went around the gym, going in circles. The darkness faded and the blaring lights came on. They were surrounded by the crowd and the cheerleaders were loudly chanting and crying for them.

“Come on boys
Don’t let us down
Remember the core leaves
and bring home the crown.

A dash of dedication
A bit of determination
Throw in some motivation
And a pinch of luck!

Let’s kick some (shuush)
And score, score, score!
We are the Lucky Clovers
And we want some more.

No luck but what we make!
Say it again!
No luck but what we make!”

The Elite broke off and jogged to people in the crowd, playing the part the town gave them. The shiny bright Stars in the night sky that everyone put so much faith and hope in. That was the Elite.

Aside from Russell and himself, the rest wore patches on their jacket sleeves to show they were not just stars, they were history. They were part of the founding families. Highly respectable, with so much to carry. The weight of the world, the burdens of this town, and the expectations from their families. They truly were toy soldiers.

The only weight on Danny’s shoulders was the shadow that followed him that resembled that of his father. The shadow that never seemed to leave him alone and was constantly watching his every move. The shadow of the man he knew he could never embrace and be. The shadow of his past.

Francis grabbed onto Allison, kissing her deeply, all the while glancing at Russ with lust in his eyes. Rhett was talking to his family and David. Rhett, who was a barricade of a man, made sure there was space in between David and Caitlin. He made sure that no one could get near his sister. He made sure David knew his place. He made sure Cece stayed safe, at his side, away from the male gaze. He made sure to be seen. Clay, on the other hand, was flirting with all the cheerleaders, like he usually did. He seemed happy and in absolute delight at being in the middle of all the beautiful creatures. He seemed happy.

The buzzer went off and everything flashed in front of Danny’s eyes. Allison was convulsing on the floor, Vivia holding onto her crying, Francis was making out with Russel, Clay was sitting on the bleachers by himself, and David…

Alert, Caitlin ran to Danny crying and the whole team looked toward the direction she was pointing at. The gym doors burst open and water came rushing in and as the gym overflowed with water, David’s dead corpse slid in front of the Elite, Cece, and Danny. His weeping best friend buried her face into his chest.

The water reached his knees.

“Don’t do this… Not now, Danny.” Cece, the Elite and David’s corpse vanished and now, Danny was holding onto Marco. He was in the tux he wore from junior prom. They both were. This was the night he broke up with him. Lifting Marco’s chin up, dejected and depressed, Danny tried to convince himself to kiss him but suddenly his shoulder was whipped around and there his father was again.

Screaming.

“You were benched?! What’s gotten into you? This is supposed to be YOUR year, Danilo. No longer will you be in the shadow of those boys they called the Elite. You're the captain now. Start acting like one.”

Instead of clapping back, Danny turned away from his dad and frantically looked for Marco.

Where was he?

When his dad tried to grab him again, to prevent his son from running around to find his lover, that is when Danny’s eyes snapped open and he woke up. His body was sweating. He anxiously searched his bed and when he felt the tousled hair beside him, Danny sighed in relief. Turning his body, he pulled Marco close to him and kissed the back of his boyfriend’s head. He was okay. He wasn’t hurt. He was here in his bed beside his boyfriend. Glancing past Marco’s head and to the clock, Danny noticed it was ten minutes before 6 AM, which means soon they would need to roll out of bed and go for their jog. Rather than aggressively wake Marco up, Danny started to trail his lips on his boyfriend’s body from his head to his neck to his bare shoulders. The sweetest of alarm clocks.

Marco groaned. He was deep in sleep and had muttered something about top, mid, bot. Words that may have sounded like “nexus” left his lips moments after the sensation of soft lips trailed against his skin. He kept muttering things relating to what was a dream on his end about winning and almost listing a series of matches in League of Legends. But the lips went from neck to shoulder and Marco groaned again, one of his eyes partially opening. He was still in a state where he hadn’t realized what was actually happening until he felt those same lips go further down to his right shoulder blade, a part of his body he was particularly ticklish.

“Mm…” Marco made a sound, this time both eyes were open and his awareness of what was happening started to become clearer. Danny was kissing him and he smiled (albeit lazily). “Well good morning…” He said huskily, his hand slowly coming up on the side and cupping his boyfriend’s face. “Best thing to wake up to.”

“Hate to ruin your beauty sleep, pup, but it’s almost time for our jog.” Even after all these years, Danny was dedicated to his workout regime. He wasn’t in basketball anymore and he didn’t do much with himself aside from work at Palermo and enjoying the town from time to time. His morning workout was the one thing that he had that was consistent and predictable. Nothing else in his life was either of those things. His family was chaotic. His relationship with Marco was fresh, even if they dated in the past. And at least once a year, something historical happens in this town which is more often than not followed by a death (or several). See? Unpredictable and inconsistent.

Contrary to the words he just said about getting up and getting ready, Danny pulled Marco close, burying his face into his lover’s back. Closing his eyes, the once-upon-a-jock replayed the dream, the images jumping between father yelling at him, Cece’s crying face, and David’s pale, rigid corpse. “You don’t hate me right? You still like me even though I’m not some huge basketball star?”

"What?" Alerted by what his boyfriend just said, Marco turned his head to face Danny, holding his lover’s face. "No! Of course not. You are one of the only people in this world I could never and would never hate. Nothing in the whole entire universe would make that even a slight possibility.” He kissed Danny on the lips. “Who I fell for wasn’t the athlete but, you, the person who broke every single stereotype one could imagine, not the huge basketball star.”

Staring intently into Marco’s eyes, Danny gave a half smile. His boyfriend’s words were sweet and kind. They always were. Still, that dream haunted him for a good two weeks now. He didn’t know how to react to Marco’s optimism. He didn’t know how to be - how to officially come out. Part of him died on that court and the other part of him was lost and afraid. “I have nothing going for me, Marco. I don’t know where I’ll be in the next five years. I don’t know what I want to do with the rest of my life… all I know for certain is I need you. Without you, what am I doing?”

It damn near broke Marco’s heart to hear Danny speak the way he did. Maybe because he was hearing similar words he said to himself six months ago. Before he and Danny rekindled any kind of relationship. Before he followed his then-ex on the jog, Marco was a husk of his former self - he still was, but he was getting better. He and Danny had been exercising together again. Like actual exercise and not what happened when the door closed and lights were dimmed, but he had a long way to go, so he knew the mindset that Danny was in, regardless how much it broke him to hear his boyfriend say that about himself.

Smiling gently, he kept Danny’s face in his hand. “You don’t need to know what you want to do. Listen, I have gotten so much clarity in my life in the past month than I have in the past year. I thought I wouldn’t find happiness and love again, but now I do and it’s because of you!” Marco’s eyes looked as though he was about to tear up just thinking about it all. “Don’t worry about the what ifs, Danny. You don’t have to think about any of that because I promise you, as long as I can control it, I’m not going anywhere.” He kissed his boyfriend again.

Once Marco pulled away, Danny turned on his back, resting his hand behind his back, staring at the ceiling. “I’ve been having this dream for the past week or so… it’s the same thing. Same visuals. Nothing changes. It makes me realize if we didn’t meet freshman year, I probably wouldn’t be the same person I am today.” He glanced over at Marco and gestured with his head for his boyfriend to place his head in the nook of his shoulder.

Today would be a later start than usual, but that’s okay, he wanted to spend some time talking with his lover. “My pride and ego… it’s something I was constantly told to protect. That would get me places. Not my heart. Don’t get bitter, get better, dad would say. Having been in the shadow of the Elite, all I could see were burning stars that I wanted to be. I look back and I realize, that whole time for us? That was like… the best time of our lives. A speckle in our past that doesn’t hold any importance to anyone that wasn’t us.” Danny’s brown eyes focused on the ceiling, as he continued to formulate the thoughts coursing through his mind, “Allison died. David died. The Elite… they went and lived their lives. And I stood there, waiting. I don’t know for what, maybe to grow up, maybe for another tragedy to hit, I don’t know. I’ve just been waiting to win at life like I did back then.”

Wrapping his arm around Marco, more open than he’s ever been with him since they’ve known each other, Danny admitted, “None of it matters. The winning. The game. The hardship. We just wanted to be young, dumb, and free. You taught me it’s okay to be sensitive, it’s okay to show some emotional intelligence, it’s okay to… love and not be ashamed about it. All that other stuff? The last game I had with the Elite? My father’s disappointment? That’s all confetti.” Who was it that taught him that? That love and enjoying yourself was the single, strongest most important factor in life? That the relationships were important, not the add-on celebration, the background noise, the icing on the cake?

He couldn’t remember.

Life is full of excitement that often comes to an end of a bigger journey. The last game of freshman year. Graduating Edenridge High. Finding out his mother has a terminal illness that was one hundred percent guaranteed to kill her. Good and bad, there’s always some kind of celebration to end the chapter. What mattered during that time was he got to play ball with people he loved. He got to spend most of the night trying to get home with the boy next to him. He got to dream peacefully before finding out the next morning Allison died. What mattered was he lived and took in the moment, like how forgiveness feels like standing in the rain, living life was kind of like a party. People came, people stayed, some left early, and some showed up late. In the end, after all the fun, games, and everything else in between, the people remaining there, help clean up the mess. They’re here to help sweep the confetti away, even if they didn’t make it.

Hm.

Danny had a lot on his mind.

All Marco did was listen to everything Danny said. He gave his boyfriend his undivided attention as he listened to the details of the dream. To all the things Danny admitted from who he would be if they never met to the many tragedies that Edenridge had to endure. Through it all, Marco couldn’t help but almost feel sad because he didn’t know that Danny had all of these thoughts in his head or that he thought about it. But then that sadness that he almost felt was reverse uno’d.

When Danny said that Marco was the reason he could love without shame, there was such a wide smile on his face that Marco didn’t even realize it until he met his gaze. “I’m sorry you had such a terrible dream, Danny…But thank you for telling me. Thank you for letting me know about it. We both have such horrific memories that haunt us, but..” He just stared at Danny for a few more seconds. He wasn’t just thinking about what he wanted to say but he took in the moment of his boyfriend. “..but it’s not something that should or would define us. We are better men than we were two, three, four years ago. And if I haven’t said it before, I’m just…so proud of you!”

“And I’m proud of you, Marco. For all I’ve put you through… for all the traumatic things you’ve been through. I’m proud of you.” Danny’s eyes, lips, and his spirit all shined at once, begging to come out and spend a day in the light, “You’re still here…” Danny leaned forward and pressed his lips against Marco’s forehead, “And I wouldn’t change that for the world.”

Marco had to let that sit for a long moment as he stared into Danny's eyes. It was almost ludicrous to think about everything that they went through and to not only be in a positive state in their relationship but that Marco wouldn't change any of it. Sure, one could make the argument that it was a lot of pain for both of them to go through and maybe it could have been avoided, but at some point pain is a hell of a teacher. Marco understood that more than anyone.

“I wouldn't either. We went through that so we could make our way back to each other and be here,” he said with an almost-grin.

That’s right.

They went through too much to let any of this go.

As much as Danny’s dream did suck and did spook him a little, he was feeling better. A lot of it was thanks to his boyfriend. What would he have done if he didn’t have Marco to lean on? That was a good question. Glancing over at the time, Danny acknowledged the fact that they indeed needed to rise and shine. They both had a day to conquer.

“Okay,” Danny graced Marco’s face with more love through tender pecks, something he couldn’t help doing since they got back together. “This is what’s going to happen. We’re going to get up, get our steps in, and then I’d like for you to come with me to see my mother.” Danny took a moment to observe Marco’s reaction, hoping it was only positive, before asking for confirmation, “Okay?”

Danny always had this superpower of leaving Marco speechless. Usually it was for something he said or did when the door was closed and locked and it was just them, but right now it was for a whole different reason altogether. Mrs. Belmonte (Marco felt weird even thinking about calling her Silvia) had always liked Marco, or at least he hoped she did. His own mother raised him the right way to always be respectful and his father doubled down on that. But even that aside, he always held Danny’s mother in high regard. She was amazing in every sense of the word, but there was also the fact that Marco only found out about her being sick when the two of them had become official, so there was that part of his mind that was entertaining a thought that this was a big deal.

And if that didn’t make Marco just love his boyfriend even more. “Sounds like a plan!” He smiled, sitting upright. “And Danny..” Marco kept his eyes on his boyfriend, holding his hand and squeezing it tightly. “I love you.” It was much more than a casual showing of his feelings. In his eyes, Marco conveyed that he deeply appreciated Danny wanting to go see his mother. Together. He couldn’t find the words how much that meant to him.

Whenever they exchanged those three words, Danny became ever more devoted, ever more certain, and ever more madly in love. One day, he was going to marry this boy. He just had to convince his father beforehand.

“I love you too.”

Edenridge

_{Right before ‘Keep My Head Above Water’
and after ‘Dawn Patrol: Seraphina’
Monday Morning
@LovelyComplex & @BrutalBx}

____________________________________________________________________


____________________________________________________________________

Kylee had kissed her girls goodbye, distracted and on a mission. Jericho had revealed a new letter, after a whole month of nothing, and now Kylee couldn’t stop thinking about the contents and about her friend. To be honest, the letter didn’t seem like it was written by Charlie Decker. If anything, the letter showcased a girl head over heels for one of Edenridge’s star basketball players. A young one who was hopelessly devoted to the deceased David O’Hara.

Mei offered to drop Lorelei home at the Mercer residence and Kylee gratefully accepted because she needed to focus. She needed to call her friend. Riding her bicycle to Cafe Rochambeau, with her laptop bag hanging from her body, Kylee with her earpiece on told Siri to call Clay C.

He might be driving around and unable to pick up but she could do her part as his friend. She wanted to know if he was aware of the letter and how it talked about his friend, which means any future letters would undoubtedly focus on him and his friend group. The Scooby Doo Crew needed to pick up on their investigation. Who knows what the next set would be about? What if someone found out about her father’s skeletons before she did?

When she went straight to voicemail, Kylee accepted the outcome, even though her stomach was twisting and turning in anxiety. “Hey, Clay. Call me? I have a feeling you already know what this is about… just call me. Please.”

Worried, Kylee was worried about Clay and no opinions she had over the controversy during her sophomore year with the ‘pedophile’ matter. What mattered was how he was holding up and how his friends were. There’s his story, her story, and then there’s a truth. No one knew the truth, not really, and she knew all too well that stories could easily get overdramatized, embellished, and changed entirely for the benefit of someone. Edenridgers would eat that shit up. People loved drama.

The whole incident that year didn’t sit well with Kylee. It didn’t sit well then and it didn’t sit well now. The Mayor’s daughter decided that was one shitshow she wouldn’t make worse. One issue she would avoid. The Elite were sacred and one had fallen from grace. Thankfully, at the time, Roddy pulled her away from all the drama and kept her focused on keeping him company and supporting him through his plights. He was a much needed distraction.

Kylee’s mind was blown away, baffled and dumbfounded, with how everyone seemed to forget how good of a guy David was. She recounted memories with him where he gave her some sound advice, especially during that one time he found her crying on the bleachers when no one else was in the gym. Crying about something revolving around her father. He understood all too well the high expectations of a man with influence. His father, Coach, her father, the Mayor. That talk made her see him in a light she didn’t have for many people. She respected David.

Unfortunately, all the good things he ever did was thrown out the door once they found out he was fucking someone underage. Don’t get her wrong, if it was indeed true, it was morally wrong but she could only imagine how the girl felt because Kylee completely understood when you want to be with someone, age meant nothing. If only they had waited until the girl turned eighteen. If only David didn’t die.

Once she got to the cafe, she secured her bike on the rack and sped into the cafe. She didn’t usually come back to the cafe but she needed a place to think, without the distraction of her house. Part of her hoped Wes wouldn’t come to the cafe… she didn’t necessarily want to see him nor did she want to go to his place like she usually did after Dawn Patrol.

The morning rush had been and gone, Colleen had gone out back for a cigarette and Poppy wasn’t working that day because finally the young flower had decided to push forward with life. All of which meant that Beau was by himself behind the counter when Kylee Grimm came sweeping in for the second time that day.

“Mon Cheri,” The former English teacher greeted with his usual jovial grin but the grimace on her pretty young face told a tale and unfortunately, Beau knew exactly which one. “Something to take the edge off Miss Grimm?”

“It’s a bit too early to drink, but I will have one of your yummy donuts,” Kylee beamed at her old English professor, hoping she wasn’t too easy to read with how she was feeling. “Chocolate frosting, rainbow sprinkles…. and mocha iced coffee. Let’s change up my usual.”

Beau was shocked to see her face again but he was sweet and never turned a customer, regardless if they may or may not have a pastry problem. Besides, this was one of his kids, how could he say no? “Coming right up.” He took a gorgeously decorated obsidian glass with intricate fleur de lis patterns from a nearby rack and began to mix up her Grimm heiress’s coffee order.

While Beau made her drink, she asked him if he had the letter on him - if anyone already knew what was going on, it would be Beau. “Can I please borrow it for a few? I’ll give it back before I leave. I don’t really want to trek home just to see if it’s in my mailbox.” Her work as Velma was never over and she needed to analyze the new lead.

The letter had been the first thing that Beau had read that morning. It was at the top of the pile of mail when he entered the cafe several hours ago. He recognised the stamp and his heart sank. It was happening again. The beautiful departed being dragged from the graves to inflict pain upon the living.

Beau knew every student that ever graced his English classroom inside and out. He knew how they thought, how they felt and what made them tick. He knew when he was fighting a losing battle and trying to get Kylee Grimm to drop a mystery was like asking a one legged man if he could win an ass kicking contest, it was pointless. “Soft eyes, Kylee. Don’t stare, don’t squint. Read it, absorb it, feel it.” He handed the letter over the counter along with the young girl's drink. “I’m here if you need me.”

Tapping her finger uneasily on the letter, Kylee stopped Beau in his tracks by clearing her throat, “Mr. Beau, I… I don’t usually go to you for things but,” Glancing around her, the Mayor’s little girl sighed in relief when she saw the only other customers leave the building. “What… no, how would you confront your wife if you found out she hasn’t been telling you the whole truth? What do you do… to show you’re trustworthy?”

Beau cocked an eyebrow, it was unusual for Kylee to ask him for advice. There were always certain students who needed his guidance all the time, some occasionally and a few not at all. Kylee fell into the latter. He poured himself a cup of coffee and leaned over the counter, just a little closer to his young charge.

“Well, as you know, I used to be homicide back in New Orleans. Back then, I saw a lot of things, lot of bad voodoo and whenever I came home, the first thing I did after I kissed my Colleen was tell her everything that had happened to me, every gory detail.” He took a sip from his cup of Java and his lips curled a little, damn the big man made some great tasting coffee. “On the rare occasions I didn’t tell her something, whatever the reason, it wasn’t good enough. If she thought I was lying, she would sit me down, put her hand on mine, look into my baby browns and say Sugar, everything now, all at once, I need to know. Honesty is the best policy. Even when we lie for the right reasons, it’s still wrong.”

“Is it a lie if he just didn’t tell me?” Kylee was in disbelief. What Beau had with Colleen, it was so genuine and pure. She was starting to realize maybe she took her infatuation with Wes too far. He wasn’t really into her. They drank. They had a good time. But he wasn’t into her. If he did, he would be honest with her. “I don’t know what my boyfriend is afraid of, maybe it’s because I’m a Grimm. I don’t know what I’m doing wrong.” Frowning, Kylee pulled her coffee to her lips and took a sip. This conversation only meant one thing. She probably should break up with him.

“It ain’t you honey,” Beau began. “Whatever hang ups or problems this boy has are his own. He’ll have a reason for not telling you something, whether it’s good or bad I don’t know and I can’t judge because that is not my place. It’s yours. Only you can decide what is worthy for you.” The elder man took another mouthful from his Americano before standing back up to his full height. “Speak to this boy, Miss Grimm. Ask him what you need to ask him, then make your call. You know your worth, he needs to know it too. All the pieces matter, baby girl.”

With an appreciative smile and a heavy heart, Kylee nodded at Beau’s good advice. “Okay, I won’t run away…” Another customer came in, causing her professor to bring his attention elsewhere. Before he walked off Kylee thanked him, wholeheartedly. She wasn’t one that needed therapy, or perhaps she was too stubborn to notice when she needed help, but this conversation was exactly what she needed to face her problem head on.

After her heart to heart with Mr. Beau, Kylee took a pen out and started dissecting the letter, annotating it, and listing names of people that surrounded David’s friend and family group in her notebook. She continued to write notes and make another list of the people she thought of when she looked at the handwriting. It looked so familiar. There weren't many people with this type of delicate, angular, and gracefully fluent penship.

Staring at some of the words, hovering over the paper as it sat on the bar, tapping her pen repeatedly on the counter, Kylee couldn’t help but think about the monthly deadline day where her class sent their written essays forward to pass down the line and land in Beau’s hands. Was the writer of this letter someone in her class? Her mind was running a million miles per hour when her phone buzzed and she rushed to grab it, seeing Clay’s name on her caller ID.

“Clay! Sorry for calling you during work, you free to talk?”

“I’m literally just finishing up,” Clay sat parked in his car outside of the O’Hara house. He had made his report and sent it to Chief Broadus and sent a quick text to Sly too to give him the heads up on the shit storm that was about to head their way. “I’m assuming this is about what was in today’s mail?”

“Yes. I read the letter during my show,” Kylee placed the pen down and stared at her donut. Not touching it or eating it, all she did was stare at it. She didn’t know if they were at this level of friendship yet, but the mayor’s daughter was starting to care about Clay like she cared about Roddy. Well, maybe not to that extent, but close enough. Enough for her to want to check on him and let him know he has someone in his corner, if he needs it. That he wasn’t alone. “... you okay?” She didn’t know how else to phrase it. Her worry was simple. She just wanted to be there for him. While she would never understand his pain from her sophomore year, Kylee was still a good person and could show compassion when she wanted to.

“I’m okay,” Clay responded. “Does it fucking suck worse than Pinehurst first five line up? Hell yeah but that won’t stop me from getting this motherfucker.” He kept the phone to his ear as he brushed his other hand through his famous hair. “What I can tell you is that this letter isn’t about David.” He picked up Jamie’s letter from the passenger seat and stared at it for a few moments in silence. “This letter is about the girl, the one they never named. David’s name is already mud. Whoever this is, they want to drag the girl down too.”

“The handwriting looks really familiar…” Kylee whispered in response, before shaking the random theories out of her mind. Grabbing the donut, she finally took a bite of it, calmly and quietly chewing, “I don’t think it’s that black and white, Clay. The letters target not just the people involved. The whole Allison show didn’t just hurt the cheerleaders and Vivia and whoever else was in her circle. All of Charlie’s friends? They were crying. Did you see the video that was posted online? That was such a hard watch.”

Her eyes grew distant as she stared into her drink, chewing her donut, “This is a public statement. Whoever sent this is angry. Why else would they expose something so close to the heart, a love letter, for the whole town to see and judge? They’re mad and I think it has everything to do with David.”

“Either way I’m gonna get this guy. This is my family.” Clay, the most easy going, chilled, most lackadaisical person walking God’s Green was pissed, he was angry. “Do whatever you can Kylee. We need to get them before someone gets seriously hurt. Give me a call if you figure out anything.” He hung up the line and threw his phone down. This fucking sucked.

“Oh… okay,” Kylee didn’t get a chance to say goodbye but at least she was able to check on him. He wasn’t doing okay. No matter what he said she knew he wasn’t doing okay. It was obvious though that he needed space. “Bye then.” She’d do her part and look into the letter and go around town to find more bread crumbs.

She was thinking of starting off on the northside, bothering a few girls who may have the same penship as the one in this letter…

Consuming all her donut, she wiped her fingers on the napkin and grabbed her phone. She opened the text thread she had with her boyfriend. After scanning through the text messages, she typed: We need to talk.

And sent.

Edenridge

_{Early Monday morning (current day of IC)
@LovelyComplex & @BrutalBx}

____________________________________________________________________


____________________________________________________________________

Adjusting the levels and receivers while Pierce's little sister prepared to go live, Kylee focused on her job and not her conversation with her father that happened almost two hours ago. Kylee had plotted to raid his office right before Dawn Patrol because more often than not he was out of the house by 5 AM. Why her father got up that early she didn’t know but it worked for him and she would never comment on his poor sleeping habits. She got it from someone, right?

Kylee was grateful she didn’t have too much time to sit in her thoughts. After her father dropped the bomb that Wes was from Pinehurst, something her boyfriend didn’t care to tell her, that made her feel some type of way. She went from sadness to anger to sadness again. Regardless of how she was feeling, this was a big day for her. Her new segment ‘Almost Famous’ was premiering and with none other than someone that was a little sister to her.

Kylee couldn’t do this alone so during Midnight Frequency the night prior, she had reached out to Mei to co-host with her today. If it wasn’t for Mei, Kylee wouldn’t have gotten this far. If anything, Kylee owed Dawn Patrol to Mei. She had a happy and positive outlet thanks to her friend.

It’s been awhile since they had alone time together. Both of them got into relationships and both got caught up with their own lives. This would be the first time they’ve seen each other since the Allison incident at that gym (since Kylee bailed before the truth was revealed at Carlisle). Kylee did text her congratulations when Mei finally told her about her and Jill dating but other than that? Scooby Doo shenanigans and spending many mornings, days, and nights thinking about Wes and being with Wes and loving Wes took all her time.

This would be the first time she didn’t text him good morning. The first time she would be leaving him on read. The first time he got 0 attention from her. He pissed off a Grimm. You don’t just piss off the mayor’s daughter! She was petty!

When the requested song Sur del Cielo by Rico Núñez was coming to an end, Kylee looked up from the broadcasting equipment, gestured for Lorelei to put the headphones on, and adjusted the mic in front of the young girl. Her hands went from her face to her chest (in a breathing motion) and back up again to show Lorelei it was going to be okay and to stay calm. Peace. Tranquility. Serenity. Absolute zen.

Lorelei was going to rock it. Kylee just knew it and she had the support of Mei Midnight too, who her darling Duckling always admired. Mei had attributes that Lala wished she had, especially the fact that she was innately bold (having no care in the world) and sported her aesthetic with certainty.

Lala nodded to her Sister, as she played her song in her head, running the lyrics over and over again. She wasn't Lorelei Mercer anymore. No. In the next moments she would transform into Seraphina and show people her voice, on a more public outlet. Confidant. Bold. Tantalizing. Desirable. A fortress of a woman. An angel of music who could sing to just about any genre but today, she would do a song of her own that Jericho helped pop it up. Usually, Kylee was her go to for music producing but Lala wanted to surprise her friend with a song she’s never heard.

When Rico’s guitar faded out, Kylee smirked at Mei, burying all her sadness to keep her attention on the light in her life. Pierce’s little sister. The last person she had left to make her a better human being and not feel haunted in the barren halls of her father’s gothic mansion. The last person to balance all her negativity and show her that there was more to life than getting even. The last person to love her without hesitation with no desire for anything besides Kylee’s company.

Having spent her morning assessing her friendships, Kylee adored Clay and was starting to consider him one of her best friends, but it still wasn’t exactly what she needed. His unspoken role was to give her advice from time to time and look out for her like a big brother would. As for Wes, there was far too much doubt to know if he was a saving grace or not. Then again, Kylee wasn’t a damsel.

Still, she wanted to know that he cared. That what they had wasn’t just a fling. That he actually wanted a future with her. Was that too much to ask for? Was it too much to ask him to be light at the end of the dark tunnel? A flashlight in a haunted mansion? He clearly didn’t trust her so why would she think he’d be anything more than just a man that likes to fuck her?

There was Jill and Mei, sure, but even they didn’t provide Kylee with what she needed. They were great for girl time and both enabled the shit out of her, but they still weren’t flashlights to her. Not like Roddy was. What Lala offered was the feeling of being needed and the feeling of not letting Pierce down by taking care of his Duckling.

Lala was so sweet and so positive, even though Kylee knew how much she suffered. A small girl that kept it all bottled up, covering up her scars and bruises with baggy clothes. Kylee wanted to help her but it was complicated. Pierce had told her that if she got involved with the Mercers, it would bring unwanted attention to her father, which she didn't need. Even so, Lala didn’t deserve whatever happened to her behind closed doors. Why couldn’t Kylee be her flashlight instead?

“Anddd we’re back. As you all know, today is a big day for us! We’re taking our story to great heights and that starts with finding people that want to be heard. Whether it’s comedy, philosophy, or music, I’m here to provide that platform on Eden Angels. Once again, I want to thank Mei Midnight for coming in today to help bring the hype.”

“That’s right it’s your demon dream girl, Mei Midnight alive and kicking out of my coffin on a Monday morning, here to entertain you, my ghouls and goyles with the hottest new acts in the New England territory and looking sexy as all hell. Beware, you’re in for a scare because our first act will melt your faces with how good she is.”

Mei’s painted black lips danced around the microphone she spoke into like she was made for it. She let her dark eyes fall upon her dear friend Kylee who seemed to be going through something. For the Wiccan to get a call before her show had been finished meant something was up. With the cracking sound bite of the Dawn Patrol intro, it meant that she had been awake for over twenty eight hours. Jill understood, she loved Ky just as much so knowing their fellow lip gloss bitch needed someone, she was ok with Mei staying at the studio.

“That’s exactly right, Mei-Day. Now I know you’re all excited so I’m not going to drag this out any longer than it needs to be. It brings me so much joy that she was able to make it this morning. Instead of introducing her, I'll have her say hi herself.”

While Kylee said her final bit, Lorelei had taken a couple breaths in and out before all anxiety went out the door. With her sophisticated, feathery accent and saccharine voice, Lala stepped into the spotlight and gleamed, “Kylee, Mei, it’s so great to be here. Good morning, Edenridge,” She enunciated her words and they were as smooth as caramel, with the perfect pacing and pauses. “There’s not much to say about me since I prefer to let my songs tell my story.” Clasping her hands together, resting them on her lap very lady-like, she focused on the blinking red ‘On Air’ sign as she took a dramatic pause. “Please, call me Seraphina,” She introduced herself before explaining, “And the song I will be singing today is something I wrote not too long ago. It’s called The Audacity and I hope you like it.”

Slipping on her own headphones, only covering one ear, impressed at her Duckling and the self assurance she was emitting from her soul, Kylee couldn’t help but tear up with how proud she was. Did all it take was a mask to bring out this side in Lala? If only Kylee knew she would’ve started this series months ago.

Without further ado, Kylee switched her and Mei’s mic off and started the instrumental version of Lala’s new song, the Audacity. The moment the song came on and eased into Kylee’s ear, she was taken aback. This hit harder than she thought Lala would come in for her debut song. In addition to that, Ky was surprised she had never heard it before. This was Lala’s way of taking a risk and hoping for the best, surprising not only her but all those listening in.

“You should buy a mic, start a podcast
Think your opinions should be broadcast
Even though no one's subscribing, listening or liking
But by all means, keep whining
Must be tough if life's so rough
You should buy a mic, start a podcast
Even though, wait, nobody asked (nobody asked)”

Kylee went from Lala to Mei, her eyes widened in wonder and awe. This was a banger. Did JP help her make this? After the first verse and entering the pre-chorus, the raven haired beauty held her left earpiece with one hand and the other hand motioned with the lyrics. To say Kylee was surprised was an understatement. Her little Duckling was an intense force to be reckoned with. This song slapped and she kind of loved the choice because it only made her think of how mad she was at her boyfriend.

“Cause I was crying, every night and you just stood there gaslighting
Nothing's working so I've been searching”

Mei was herself taken aback by the young beauty’s vocals. She placed a hand on her pentagram adorned chest as if her heart was ready to burst from her chest due to the power of the beat. “Fuck my ass with the Elder Tree!” She looked at Kylee flabbergasted. “She’s amazing, Ky.”

By the chorus, Kylee was jamming with Mei. Grabbing her phone, she took a short video of Lorelei (for herself and not social media) while her tiny friend was caught up in the heat of her song. Most people would think this song was about ex lovers (which can be seen as that) but in Lala’s case it’s a dramatized version of her opinion on her abusive father and her struggle with her daddy issues (seeing her father in every boy she meets).

“Where do all these men find the audacity? (yeah)
No actually, because I think I'm at c-c-capacity
Maybe I missed it, maybe I'm behind
No, really! Tell me where they find the audacity
No, actually so stunned by your stupidity
Cuz I've been looking, but I've yet to see
Where do all these men find the audacity?”

When she stopped recording, Kylee caught sight of text messages from Wes. Rolling her eyes, she placed her phone face down on the table. Not today, Satan. Reaching for matcha tea, she took a deep sip as she embraced the moment of Lala’s emotions. Was this series going to find those meant for the limelight? God, she hoped so. Because of her and Mei, they could change the game for many Edenridgers. They could help kickstart people’s careers. They could be the reason why stars were born here. They could make a difference. Wouldn’t that be something?

Mei furiously scribbled upon her notepad, sketching a rough image of Seraphina, adopting a more haunting aesthetic. Not only would it be a sick tattoo when she was done but maybe potential cover art for an album. At the very least it was going onto the dark priestesses wall of fame. Jillybean would love this. She hoped that somewhere out there her flame haired Irish temptress was listening to the show and was in just as much awe as she was.

“I've been on my own for a long time
Thought I could confront all the dumb guys
And teach them a lesson bout' grace and discretion
But they just looked dead in the eyes”

The last verse came and went and then Lala tied the song up with the pre-chorus, the chorus, the bridge, the chorus, and then the outro. It amazed Kylee how talented yet shy this girl was. Her voice was incredibly powerful and her songs were relatable. How many people would listen to this song and think of their own frustrations with the men in their lives?

Incredibly, really.

Seraphina was incredible.

Once the song ended and the girls said goodbye to Seraphina, in hopes that she would return (Lala wasn’t actually leaving the room), Mei played a few more songs before the end of today’s Dawn Patrol episode. With her mic off, Kylee tossed her now empty matcha tea cup into the garbage bin and leaned back, “Where did all that attitude come from? That was the most vibrant I’ve ever seen you sing, Duckling.”

No longer wearing her Seraphina mask and having taken off her audio gear, Lala twiddled her fingers and blushed, “I don’t know… I just pretended to be someone I want to be. I didn’t want to think about anything else besides the music. Did you really like it?”

“Girl, seriously,” Mei flipped a switch to play an advert for the Callahan butchers shop before spinning in her chair to face the young singer. “I am moist.” She leaned back and placed both of her hands on the back of her neck. “Your voice is so strong, it hits like a brick to the face. Fucking cunts. You’re tremendous.”

“Also-- I’m curious. What made you want to do a pop song? You don’t usually go that route. You’re more of a play some keys and sing kind of girl. I was expecting something hella’ softer,” Kylee reached over and grabbed Lala’s hand squeezing it, comforting her.

“Well it’s kinda’ like a tv show. Don’t want the starter to put you to sleep. Catchy melody, easy to sing lyrics, a chorus that’s repeated several times, it’s all an algorithm to draw people in. Maybe down the road I’ll throw in my songs with a bit more sentimental value and less reverb.” Lala returned the squeeze to her friend, before turning towards Mei and complimenting, “Song choice aside, I listen to you every night. I’m a Midnight kind of girl and love your personality. I hope one day I can carry myself just like you.”

“Damn, Mei, already stealing my baby from me,” Kylee teasingly pouted.

"Listen Linda, I can’t help it that the Goddess herself gifted me with a tight ass, a flexible body and come and fuck me or I’ll fuck you up eyes.” Mei crossed her long, fishnet covered legs and winked towards her old flame. She returned her attention to the young artist that had just performed wonders for them. "Don't try and carry yourself like me, carry yourself like you.”

Unfortunately, Lorelei didn’t know what that meant. She still had a lot of soul searching to do. She still had no idea who she was as a person. All she knew was that she loved to sing and she hoped she could get over her fear of the limelight, so that people could put a face behind the name Seraphina.

Before she could respond, grateful that she was saved by an interruption, Lala observed JP come strolling in. A man on a mission. Going straight to his girls, he dropped an envelope in front of them, “It’s starting again. The letters.”

Kylee’s eyes widened. She was quick to take the contents out, she placed it in front of her and Mei so they could read it together. JP let the two of them take in the words of some sad soul who was in love with David as he shuffled toward the futon and slouched on it, letting his body melt on the couch. He didn’t sleep well last night. At least Rye did.

What? How could this be happening? Mei was there! She was there when ReyRey Gonzalez admitted to the true facts about the death of Allison. How was this shit happening again? How the fuck was Decker involved in another death? Why David O’Hara? At least people loved Allison. David was a pedophile, a child molester. He deserves what he got….yet Mei also knew him as a kind, thoughtful and easy to like sort of guy. Why was the past being dredged up again? Why couldn’t whoever was sending these damn letters just move on?

”Hi diddly ho, here we fucking go again. Cumdumpster!”

“We should get going, Mei-Day,” Kylee had gotten up near immediately and started gathering her things, “I need to see if Clay is okay. This was his best friend, I can only imagine… Lala, you ready?”

Lorelei nervously nodded and followed suit. Before she followed the woman on a rampage, Lala rushed to Mei and handed her digits (that was written on a piece of gum wrapper) to the Goth Goddess, “I hope we can be friends…” she whispered.

Mei offered the young girl a genuine smile; a rarity from the usually stoic and dark woman. "Of course we can fancy pants.” She placed the gum wrapper into her bra and shot her eyes over to Ky. "Give me two seconds to wrap up this shit!” The Wiccan span in her chair again so she could face the equipment once more. She lifted the headset from around her neck and back onto her head as the On Air light flashed into life. ”Well it’s that time again my dearest freaks, your mistress of the night must go rest until the twilight hours but don’t fret, I will return, evil always does. For Kylee Grimm, the gorgeous Seraphina this is Mei Midnight signing off with Radiohead's Let Down. Stay spooky Eden and remember, the best things happen in the dark.”

Dawn Patrol was over and the three girls had left Absolute Sound. Jericho glanced up at the ceiling wondering why this town was so cursed. So haunted. So messed up. Why couldn’t the beautiful departed stay in their graves at peace? Why did someone have to bring their names up and put gasoline on a town that was already on fire?

Whoever was behind these letters needed to be dealt with.

It was only a recipe for more heartbreak and misery.

These letters sucked.

Picking his phone up, he texted Gavriel, tired and just wanting the day to be over already: Do you think you need to get checked? For those nightmares… I mean.