Brntout - * — 𝐛𝐞𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐝 / 𝑦𝑜𝑢 !

"already? i'm not done smelling the candles." he's been at it for fifteen minutes now, moving from one jar to the next like he was shopping for a new scent at a home goods store, not browsing the shelves of a psychic shop. "you know," he says, "i used to see this girl a couple years ago that was seriously obsessed with this shit? had a rock collection and everything. kept saying she was going to curse me if she ever found me cheating." clearly in no rush to leave, he looks up from the displayed candles to flash nadia a grin, amused by her accusation. "you're still here aren't you?" there it was again, that playful challenge in his voice, the same air of flirtation he always slipped in, whether or not she acknowledged it. "locking me up isn't the only way to have fun with me, nadia." his grin lingers. always hinting, always offering. he has yet to make a move to leave. instead, he resumes the task of sniff testing every candle the sisters of the moon has to offer "hurry up and close up then. i'll give you a ride home." his tone gives little room to argue but he'd never turn down an opportunity to. "unless you have plans after this?"

○    NOW DELIVERING TO . . .    ⏤ @brntout !

" we're closing up . " nadia announces to salvador , looking him up and down as she flips the sign on the door . if anyone should know sisters ' moon hours , it'd be HIM . nadia rests a hand on her hip , jutting it out as she turns to face him properly . " and there's nobody here left for you to hit on , which i know is the real reason you're here . " her voice is drier than ever . she knows salvador , because he is everywhere , all the time . with a smile , a glint in his eye . HE'S A FLIRT and not even a good one . the amount of times nadia rolls her eyes while hearing him try his way with hana could make her eyes permanently stick . " chop , chop , salvador . locking you inside here does sound fun but i need this job , and something tells me holding you hostage inside would get me fired . "

"good save, babe. you had me worried there." they tease. as if hana could do anything to make her look ominous. kennedy thinks she could commit a murder and still find a way to make it endearing. something they might have to consider a little deeper about after tonight's events. fingers easily interlocking with hers as kennedy leads them out from the dancefloor. not without giving hana another twirl of course. "is it just me or is this party... actually fun?" especially for how low their expectations were to begin with.

☾ ❝ eee ! ❞ she nearly squeals at kennedy, nodding enthusiastically at the suggestion. ❝ yes please. i want one of those things that look like a lab experiment. ❞ she pauses, then laughs at herself. ❝ like, one of the tube drinks. not the people. ❞

Czeslaw Milosz, New and Collected Poems: 1931-2001

"what if i said that i thought it was you?" he asks, nonchalantly folding freshly dried clothes into his basket. after a pause, he breathes out a chuckle. "i feel like you and the rest of your family would be the type to pay for some poor soul to kill in exchange for money. like those rich people in the purge." do the talbot's even have that type of money? salvador assumes they do and if he sees any of alaina's relatives running around town with a new set of wheels, he'll know exactly who to blame. "who do you think?" he asks, finally looking over her way.

open to : any where : silver coin laundry mat when : after the questionings

avery is sprawled out on a bench inside the laundry mat, newspaper covering her face. she's been quiet for a good five minutes when she finally rips the newspaper away from her face and turns to the innocent person doing their laundry. " who do you think did it? " her own clothes long forgotten, probably hogging a machine.

"if it makes you feel better, i think that you'd be better at a fight than me," admittedly, tthat isn’t saying much when the biggest risk they face at the office is a paper cut. "hey, wait—" they bend down to snatch the bag of peas off the floor but before they can nag him to sit back down, he's disappeared from the room. kennedy scoffs, sinking back into the sofa in a grumble and taking this moment to close their eyes. with a sigh, the adrenaline of the night drains away, replaced by exhaustion. what a fucked up night. the sound of the laptop thudding onto thetable jolts them, followed by santiago plopping back down on the sofa "what, did you have to clean your browser history or something? you freak." they reach out for the laptop and charger, quickly connecting the device before they forget.

the way santiago wrinkles his nose at the mention of their boss bring them to chuckle. it's nice to know that they might not be the only one offended by ricardo's antics. "yeah, him. he's a prick. i suppose all rich pretty boys are." how the hell he ended up in red creek is beyond them. they offer a lazy shrug at santiago's resistance to coming to new york with them. "dunno. think it might be good for you to go to the city. see that there's more to life than this shitty town." they have their attention focused on booting the laptop up now. "mom is... yeah. i think she's happy. i think jon is too, actually. you should have seen how hard he hugged me when they picked me up from the airport. thought the man was gonna break my ribs." kennedy shoots santiago a quick glance. "trying to get rid of me, already?" they ask, scrunching their nose in jest before offering another shrug. "i don't know. mom and jon would kill me if i didn't at least stick around for the holidays. i'm hoping i won't be long after that. i'd hate to give them the impression that i was here to stay for good." they pause then, before adding. "they wanted me to check how you were doing. if... you were planning on attending any family dinners."

⁑ he nods almost mindlessly, opting to trust that his friends made it home safe rather than spiral into a panic. ❝ yeah. guess i wouldn't be much help if i nearly get knocked out tryin' to split a bar fight. ❞ santi pushes himself off of the armchair, make-shift ice bag tumbling to the floor. ❝ i'll grab it for you. ❞ it's a welcome distraction from the pulse in his temple. he pulls the laptop from it's place on a (mostly empty) bookshelf. there's a dull ache in his chest as he peers down at long - abandoned textbooks; santi had loved nursing at one point & the end was so sudden. he spins on his heel before he can stare too long. he laughs out loud when kennedy suggests he may have signed an nda to work at heartbreak motel. ❝ you haven't been gone that long, kens. doubt they even know what an nda is. maybe i'll toss you somethin' if it happens. ❞ he drops the laptop on his coffee table with a concerning thump, then falls back onto the couch equally as careless.

❝ your boss . . . ricardo, right ? ❞ santi asks, wrinkling his nose. narcissistic may be the nicest way to put it. kennedy probably put up with far worse in new york. which— ❝ like you would've wanted me buggin' you in the city. ❞ there's no bite to his words, but they fall flat. ❝ suzanne happy that you're home for a bit ? how long are you stayin' in town anyways ? ❞

FINAL DESTINATION 2000 | dir. James Wong

Imitation of Life (1959) dir. Douglas Sirk

their eyebrow twitches at his ‘no’. how absolute it is. he leaves little room for debate and while it’s not hard to understand ricardo’s side of why he would push against their idea, kennedy has always been sure of themselves and their ability to sell a story so any time they are met with opposition, they can't help but wonder — 'who the hell does he think he is?' they're certain he can see it, too. the look of defiance that washes over their black eyes. they open their mouth to speak, then quickly close it. before turning away. "fine." they leave it at that because it seems that they still see eye to eye with the 'spread fear' plan. kennedy can work with that. they've spun gold with less.

“wow, how fortunate” they reply, fully monotone to properly display just how little they care about their boss’ sex life. as they walk, kennedy keeps their eyes set ahead as well, deviating only when they think they catch something moving from their peripherals. no doubt the darkness playing tricks on them. or maybe the prospect of a murderer in their hometown has shaken them up more than they're willing to realize. they chose not to examine that, instead shifting focus to ricardo’s dry reply to their mundane question. “is it cus you’re too busy having sex?” they stifle a snort at their own joke, hand rising to cover their mouth as they do so, lowering it only once they've regained composure. “i…" they clear their throat, "i might have had a little too much to drink, tonight.” they admit, and that's the best they can muster up as an apology. “what’s wrong with halloween?”  kennedy had already guessed ricardo wasn’t the biggest fan of the holiday based on the little, or rather, lack of effort he put in his ‘costume’, so there's no surprise or offense found in the question. just pure curiosity. anything to pass the time and make this walk as painless as possible. as they walk, they find themselves wrapping their hands around their bare arms to warm them up some. if they had known they were going to be skulking the streets around this hour they might have thought ahead and brought something warmer to wear. “how well do you think you can talk up a bartender?”

RICARDO IS ALL TOO AWARE of the missing estrada woman . it's been playing on his mind ever since he got the news . the coincidence of it all . the timing . it can't be ignored , least of all by him . his stomach feels like it's dropping and he has to remind himself that this is just a job . just a town . there is nothing here and nobody here . nobody that matters , anyways . he reattunes his attention to kennedy , like an instrument that may need TUNING . " no . " he says , voice firm . " until we know it's daniela , we don't say anything . intrigue sells more than fake claims do. " A FIRST FOR HIM . he doesn't dwell on it . ricardo doesn't care for being reputable , but there's a difference between being a gossip mag and spreading false news . " or simply say : could it be daniela ? are we next ? ask questions , spread fear . " he begins to nod now , his brain working alongside kennedy's , as if in sync .

the sickly over-saccharine way they say YES SIR has ricardo's lips twitch up for a second time . fine. kennedy amuses him at times , but that's it . " fortunately i've had too much sex to count as an incel . " he brushes the sentiment off , with another shrug . ricardo doesn't even notice he's walking in line with kennedy . he's distantly aware that they're moving into conversation that ISN'T work related . rather than think about that , he focuses on their question . he keeps his gaze ahead , eyes adjusting to the dark - the interruptions of people milling past every now and then . ricardo still can't fathom that redcreek exists . that it's a real place . even less that HE'S HERE in it . " i don't have time for movies . " he says easily . he's always been more of a reader , honestly . back in foster homes , it was rare to find a television , let alone one that was AVAILABLE and didn't come with high stakes . books were free and everywhere . it carried with him after being adopted , into adulthood . he's never really gotten on the train of movies or television or even POP CULTURE really - besides the bits and pieces he overhears at overly expensive LA parties . " i'll never understand the obsession with halloween . " ricardo says instead , distaste abundant on his tongue .

Hercules (1997) dir. John Musker & Ron Clements