Horror And Amusement Meet In Kennedy's Shriek As Nadia Carries On About Santiago. "ew, Don't Say That!

location : the dance floor @ the warehouse

time : approximately 10:30pm.

open : to anyone!

“are you thirsty? wanna grab a drink?” kennedy half yells into the other’s ear, yet her voice is barely audible over the music pumping around them. fingers flutter down the other's arm, ready to grab hold of their wrist to lead them out of the dance floor or loosely interlace her digits with theirs to twirl them around. depends on their answer!

MARIA 2024 | Dir. Pablo Larraín

"yeah, believe it or not this is about half of it. at this rate i'm going to have to start eating reeses pieces for breakfast." so he's grateful when nathan is kind enough to relieve him of his burden that is too much halloween candy. "thank you, mayor. you're saving me from some hefty dentist bills." vikram poses a la standing emoji as nathan looks him over, unsure of what to do with his hands now that the bucket of candy has been taken. "that's nice. i'm not big into musicals either. i just really like this one. i've never uh, seen it live though." but he wants to. someday. " the music's great. think you still remember the lyrics? should i suggest karaoke for the next council meeting?" he asks, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

“  oh,  please,  you're  too  kind.  i  feel  like  i  might  have  more  than  enough,  even  if  halloween  lasted  a  whole  week!  ”  nathan  kids,  but  he  accepts  vikram's  offer  anyway,  because  of  course  the  mayor  would  have  too  much  candy  to  hand  out;  it's  why  everybody  stops  by  every  year.  there's  a  glint  of  recognition  in  his  eyes  when  he  puts  the  mask  on,  a  small  ahh  escaping  his  lips  as  he  nods.  “  i  wouldn't  say  i'm  an  avid  watcher  of  musicals,  but  i  have  seen  my  fair  share  of  them  —  it  was  my  mother  who  loved  them,  ”  he  shares.  “  and  she  did  take  me  to  see  the  phantom  of  the  opera  in  broadway  all  those  years  ago.  i  vividly  remember  having  the  songs  stuck  in  my  head  for  weeks  after  that.  ”

salvador  emerges  from  the  heavy  back  doors,  both  hands  clutching  oversized  black  trash  bags  that  reek  of  grease  and  kitchen  waste.  the  shift  from  the  suffocating  heat  of  the  kitchen  to  the  sharp  chill  of  the  night  air  sends  a  shiver  up  his  spine,  making  him  painfully  aware  of  the  sweat  clinging  onto  his  brow.  he  exhales  sharply,  annoyed  that  his  hands  are  too  occupied  to  swipe  it  away.  then  his  gaze  lifts—and  locks  on  her.  henrietta  nivan.  the  woman  of  the  goddamn  hour.  salvador  had  clocked  the  moment  she  walked  into  the  diner,  could  hear  the  commotion  of  surprised  patrons  through  the  sizzling  of  the  stove  and  the  blaring  baseline  of  his  coworker's  shitty  playlist.  even  he  couldn't  resist  peering  through  the  ticket  window  to  catch  a  glimpse  of  her  as  she  left  the  diner.  she’s  back.  he  doesn't  expect  to  see  her  out  here  though.

her  greeting  is  quick  to  fill  the  silence  between  them  and  a  laugh  from  him  shortly  follows.  "please."  he  scoffs,  the  corner  of  his  lip  twitching  upwards  as  he  turns  away  from  her  to  finish  his  task  of  hauling  trash  over  a  grimey  commercial  garbage  can.  "nah,  hen.  no  kids."  none  that  he  knows  of  anyway.  he  shoots  a  sideways  glance  her  way,  full  of  feigned  expectancy.  "⏤  unless  you  have  news  for  me?"  the  last  bag  is  tossed  over  and  the  lid  is  closed  with  an  echoing  thud  against  the  metal.  he  wipes  his  hands  on  his  apron,  uses  his  forearm  to  finally  clear  his  forehead  before  stepping  back  towards  her.  “i’d  give  you  a  hug  but  i’d  hate  to  ruin  that  fancy  blouse  you  got  on.”  an  outfit  he  never  once  saw  her  wearing  if  he's  honest.  prim  and  proper  and  so  unlike  the  girl  he  remembers  fooling  around  with.  it  wasn't  a  bad  look.  just...  different.  “are  the  city  cops  after  you  for  raiding  hilary  clinton’s  closet  or  something?  that  why  you’re  back  in  town?”

ꜜ ﹙ 🪞  ﹚ ﹕ homecoming was its own specific kind of hell⸻ sat on the corner booth of dolly's, the cracked leather of the seat pinching at the back of her thigh with every shift. the clatter of forks & plates punctuated the low hum of conversation that seemed to crescendo with each passing minute, whispers and glances sliding off the walls and settling right on her shoulders as they finally recognized her. church friends of her parents, high school classmates who had never left town, people well-aware of the nivans name, all of them orbiting, pausing at her table with bright smiles and the mind-numbing idle chit-chat. do you remember me ? you've grown so tall now ! is that a wedding ring on your finger ? didn't think we'd see the day, hen ! fingers drummed against the chipped tabletop until the small talk finally clogged her throat, jaw finally hurting from her everlasting polite smile, appetite shriveling beneath all the tedium of smalltown reunions. henry excused herself to attend some imaginary business, throwing down enough money to cover the pancakes, lukewarm fires and watery cola ﹕ the door's bell shrilling her departure. but henry didn't get anywhere too far, the alley behind dolly's was cooler, quiet, gravel crunching underfoot as she leaned into the rough brick wall and reached for her lighter. that silence didn't really last very long however, smoke curling from her lips as she noticed the backdoor swing open ﹕ and there he was, salvador, an apron splattered with grease tied around his waist. “ so, ” hard stare pressing against him, lips slowly tugging into a smile, almost as if trying to formulate a theory on salvador's life during the last eight years she had been away. “ did you ever manage to knock someone up ? got all sorts of welcome, only thing that's really missing is someone telling me i'm the godmother of a child i haven't met. ” @brntout

❝ 𝙸𝙵  𝙸𝙼  𝚁𝙸𝙶𝙷𝚃  𝙰𝙱𝙾𝚄𝚃  𝚃𝙷𝙸𝚂,  𝙸  𝙲𝙾𝚄𝙻𝙳  𝚂𝙰𝚅𝙴  𝙰  𝙼𝙰𝙽'𝚂  𝙻𝙸𝙵𝙴.  𝙳𝙾  𝚈𝙾𝚄  𝙷𝙰𝚅𝙴  𝙰𝙽𝚈  𝙸𝙳𝙴𝙰  𝚆𝙷𝙰𝚃  𝚃𝙷𝙰𝚃  𝚆𝙾𝚄𝙻𝙳  𝙳𝙾  𝚃𝙾  𝙼𝚈  𝙱𝙾𝙾𝙺  𝚂𝙰𝙻𝙴𝚂?  ❞

 // (  destiny  ryan.  non-binary.  she/they  )  . ⸻ KENNEDY  STUART  ,  a twenty  eight  year  old,  has  survived  another  day  in  red  creek  where  they  have  lived  for  eighteen  years  and  has  been  back  a  couple  of  months . THE  PRODIGY  is   known   for   being  ambitious  and calculative and  is  often  associated  with  murmured  self-affirmations,  a  creeping  curiosity,  doing  whatever  it  takes  to  exceed  expectations,  picture  perfect  smiles,  pristine  trophies  on  full  display .  in   a   small   town   where   they   work   as  a  journalist at  the  register  and  an  author,  word  travels  fast  .     it’s   hard   to   keep   a   secret   ,   and   it   looks   like   the   boogeyman  knows   that   [  REDACTED  ] 

 𝚃𝙷𝚁𝙴𝙰𝙳𝚂 | 𝙼𝚄𝚂𝙸𝙽𝙶𝚂 | 𝙼𝙸𝚁𝚁𝙾𝚁 | 𝙴𝙳𝙸𝚃𝚂 | 𝙿𝙻𝙰𝚈𝙻𝙸𝚂𝚃 | 𝙿𝙸𝙽𝚃𝙴𝚁𝙴𝚂𝚃

𝐀 𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐃𝐘 𝐈𝐍: being the golden child, a gnawing ambition, restless nights, being a pawn in your parent’s game, the need to be ten steps ahead, doing whatever it takes, always comparing yourself to others, when will it ever be enough? 

[ Ⅰ ]  .  .  .  𝐁𝐀𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐒 

full  name.  kennedy  noelle  stuart.  nicknames.  ken,  kenny, .  age.  28.  race.  black. nationality.  american.  birthday.  may  20th.  zodiac.  taurus.  gender.  non-binary.  pronouns.  (  she  /  they  ).  sexual  orientation.  pansexual.  birthplace.  redcreek,  michigan.  occupation.  journalist

[ Ⅱ ]  .  .  .  𝐅𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐘

mother  :  suzanne  stuart  herrera father  :  marcus stuart   stepfather:  jonathan  ‘jon’  herrera stepbrother:  santiago  herrera

[ Ⅲ ]  .  .  .  𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐓

∗  kennedy  was  marcus  and  suzanne's  last-ditch  effort  to  stabilize  the  marriage  between  a  narcissist  and  a  small  town  primadonna.  the  attempt  lasted  for  a  few  years  on  and  off  which  resulted  kennedy  having  to  spend  their  early  years  alternating  between  two  homes ∗  kennedy  was  the  spitting  image  of  the  both  of  them  and  the  two  were  painfully  aware  of  it,  pushing  the  young  kid  to  be  the  best  version  of  themselves . .  .  they  just  had  different  definitions  of  what  that  was. ∗   for  marcus,  it  was  a  sharp  mind.  days  with  him  usually  consisted  of  activities  that  involved  intellectual  improvement  -  playing  chess,  reading  books,  watching  documentaries.  as  for  suzanne,  she  preferred  more  physical  charms  -  sports  &  beauty  pageants  mostly. ∗  the  combination  resulted  in  a  kid  who's  learned  quickly  that  they  earn  most  praise  when  they  are  not  only  good  at  something...  but  better  than  expected.  a  mindset  eventually  turned  to  a  desire  at  being  the  best  in  whatever  they  set  out  to  be. ∗   in  2006  suzanne  started  seeing  a  local  man  named  jon  hererra  and  before  kennedy  had  a  chance  to  process  their  mother's  new  relationship,  they  were  asked  to  pack  their  bags  to  move  in  with  this  stranger  and  his  son,  santiago  herrera. ∗   while  kennedy's  father  was  still  in  their  life,  it  was  apparent  that  he  had  decided  to  take  a  step  back  (  no  doubt  betrayed  by  how  quickly  his  former  wife  moved  on  )  and  began  only  taking  kennedy  on  the  weekends. ∗   life  with  the  herrera's  was  different.  suzanne  had  taken  to  bragging  about  her  child's  achievements.  an  energy  that  their  stepfather  quickly  matched  .  he  became  invested  in  advancing  kennedy's  talents,  perhaps  hoping  that  their  excellence  would  rub  off  on  his  son. ∗  unfortunately,  kennedy  had  a  hard  time  relating  to  santiago.  perhaps  it  was  the  age  difference  or  the  resentment  in  their  parent's  union.  whatever  the  reason,  it  made  building  a  healthy  relationship  difficult. ∗  kennedy  tended  to  focus  on  their  academic  pursuits  instead.  editor  of  the  newspaper,  head  of  the  speech  and  debate  team,  goalie  of  the  girl's  soccer  team...  they  had  their  hands  full!  eventually  they  graduate  with  honors  and  got  accepted  at  NYU  on  a  full  ride  to  become  an  investigative  journalist. ∗   after  college,  they  booked  a  job  at  the  new  york  times  amd  became  a  travelling  journalist,  moving  from  country  to  country  to  write  pieces  about  whatever  was  relevant. ∗   during  their  travels  they  came  across  an  interesting  case  that  was  ongoing  in  italy.  there  was  a  unexpected  string  of  murders  happening  in  a  small  countryside  town  and  with  the  help  of  the  local  police  department,  it  was  determined  that  the  local  catholic  priest  was  poisoning  the  offerings  during  their  mass  and  would  either  pretend  to  heal  them  with  the  power  of  God  or  let  them  die. ∗  the  article  kennedy  wrote  didnt  garner  much  attention  but  they  were  so  invested  in  the  story  they  decided  to  write  a  book  about  it  named  'death  at  the  altar'  and  lo  and  behold  -  it  became  a  best  seller! ∗  it  was  such  a  hit  that  kennedy  had  to  take  a  break  from  their  journalistic  endeavors  to  go  on  a  book  tour.  as  exciting  as  it  was,  kennedy  found  it  awfully  tiresome. ∗  after  some  thought  and  some  nudging  from  their  mother  &  step-father,  kennedy  decided  to  take  a  break  from  it  all  and  move  back  home.  they  took  up  a  job  at  the  local  newspaper  because  they  figured  it  would  be  easy.  some  fluff  pieces  here  and  there  while  they  focus  on  their  next  big  hit.  it's  red  creek,  michigan  after  all.  nothing  ever  happens  here.

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘 :  a  smart  kid  who  watched  their  parents  divorce  and  was  forced  to  join  another  family  along  with  her  outrageous  mother.  left  town  as  soon  as  she  could  but  recently  decided  to  move  back  home  after  writing  a  best  selling  true  crime  novel  named  'death  at  the  altar'.r'. 

[ Ⅳ ]  .  .  .  𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒 ───  all  connections  are  open  to  any  gender  unless  specified  otherwise.

wc  pinterest | wc  tag

[ Ⅴ ]  .  .  .  𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐘

＋clever  ＋analytical  ＋curious －unsympathetic  －stubborn  －judgmental mbti  :  ESFJ natal  chart  :  ↑  capricorn, ⊙  taurus, ☾  cancer inspired  by  :  gale  weathers ( scream   ),  nancy  wheeler ( stranger  things ),  monica  geller ( friends )

"it means you didn't break your nose." he tries, speaking carefully as to not feed into her panic. "we're gonna get you home. i just gonna clean you up first." he's almost done. the rambling tells vik that she’s definitely in shock, and honestly, he can’t blame her. she's handling it a lot better than he expected. "what? is that what you're worried about, right now?" he asks, the corner of his lips tugging into a small smile. it was endearing, actually. "don't be, avery. you still look very pretty." he reassures, finally moving his handkerchief away from every now that the wound is not bleeding as much anymore. "hold tight for a second, okay? i'm going to get you some ice."

“ what does ‘ not bad ‘ mean? " she appears doe - eyed for a moment the situation striking fear into her. " i should really get home -- well not to my apartment -- i should go to my actual home. my dad's probably worried. i don't live at home anymore but -- " she's rambling and feels the onset of a migraine. " head hurts, face hurts. am i still pretty at least? "

"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 ? ❞

“—and so my master plan to get you to buy me a drink tonight finally comes to fruition. about time you caught on.” they scrunch their nose in jest, playfully satisfied with his offer. “i mean, i don’t hate it…” they say, referring to the song. “i just— i don't know. between you and me, i don’t think i know how to dance to it very well.” the admission comes with a small laugh, a thin layer of sheepishness underneath. it's a reminder that this was never really their scene growing up. new york may have changed some of that, but the truth remains that they’re still no good with this kind of music. the beats were too amped for their usual swaying and with no lyrics to sing along to, kennedy was beginning to feel at a loss. confidence can only carry you so far. “that's why you have to get me out of here, rafael— before i resort to making us start ballroom dancing.”

truthfully  -  rafael's  been  nursing  the  same  beer  since  he's  gotten  to  the  warehouse;  no  liquor  needed  when  there's  the  remnants  of  a  traumatic  brain  injury  that  keeps  him  six  feet  off  the  ground.  still  -  there's  something  about  kennedy  (  her  smile,  maybe;  so  bright  he  has  to  squint  in  the  already  -  dim  lights  of  the  club  )  that  he  can't  quite  say  no  to  -  at  least  not  completely.  "no  -"  a  lopsided  smile  as  he  leans  in,  "-  but  i  can  buy  you  a  drink,  yeah?  unless  you  like  this  -"  a  vague  gesture  to  the  air  around  them,  "-  song?"

#me