Soon As She Unblocks Me The Wedding Is Back On

"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 ? ❞

"eh, you're not missing about much. beer's just... you know, cheap." it fit his nature of taking things slow. shots were too quick, too reckless, and much harder to nurse on those nights when he simply didn't want to be alone. but quinn's offer was kind and as a man who could use a little more of it himself, it was only natural for him to agree. he taps her shot glass with his, then downs the shot. the burn is strangely soothing. it gives him something to focus on. "oh! yes, that's me." any reminder that vikram is not invisible to others makes him nervous. "yeah, i think I've seen you around too. i usually work with the mortuary so i don't really um, get to meet other people. what do you do there?" she seems a little young to be a doctor.

the  brunette  let  out  a  laugh,  “  unfortunately  ,  i'm  gluten  free  …  so  beer  and  me  don't  usually  get  along  .  ”  she  responded  ,  sending  the  taller  male  a  friendly  grin  .  quinn  had  recognized  vikram  from  the  hospital  ,  but  it  was  usually  during  a  moment  where  she  was  quite  busy  and  stressed  .  quinn  wasn't  super  outgoing  ,  but  she  wasn't  super  introverted  -  she  was  somewhere  in  the  middle  .  if  she  didn't  know  someone  ,  she  didn't  always  say  hi  ,  but  when  alcohol  was  involved  …  her  extroverted  side  had  an  edge  .  “  yeah  !  i'm  quinn  .  ”  she  responded  ,  holding  up  the  shot  glass  and  cheersing  .  “  vikram  ,  right  ?  i've  seen  you  a  few  times  at  the  hospital  ,  i  believe  .  ”

"hmm that you did." they muse, a smile tugging at the corners of their mouth. "man, you always had the best stuff." she was discreet too, which was something kennedy always appreciated about nadia. they can't even imagine what trouble they would have gotten in if their parents had ever caught wind of all the times the two smoked beneath the school bleachers, giggling about whatever nonsense was relevant at the time. they were a match made in heaven. nadia needed their book smarts to pass class, kennedy needed her street smarts to make this godforsaken town remotely bearable. an unlikely duo, but a friendship that kennedy didn't realize how much they've missed until tonight. distance ihas a watt of testing relationships and kennedy, of all people, knew that all to well. despite the years apart they still felt a little corner of their heart reserved for nadia. they didn’t know how to navigate moments like this, though. they knew she wasn’t the type to look for sympathy and it didn't feel right to bash her parents when nadia still clearly held some attachment towards them. would kennedy feel the same if they were in nadia’s shoes?

so they don’t say anything. instead, offer a solemn nod. they are sure they will ponder this later, when their brain finally manages to come up with something remotely wise. the glamorized pictures that nadia paints of their job description are far more exciting than the reality that is a gray cubicle and the sound of typing filling the air like elevator music. a laugh breaks out at nadia’s anchor-like voice and they follow suit, unhooking their arm from nadia’s to sit up straighter, raising a fist to their lips as if it were a microphone. “thank you nadia, for the local hottie report. we cut back to announce that unfortunately for everyone back at home, the glamor will end the moment the liquor leaves your system. we recommend thinking twice before sending that ‘u up?’ text.” not exactly the type of reporting kennedy does, but definitely more amusing on a night like this. kennedy’s smile falters a little as they cheer once more, nadia’s words stirring something inside kennedy. something they don't particularly want to put a label to yet. the pause between them is brief, but heavy and it seems they are both happy to choke it down with the tequila rather than addressing the unspoken truth – that despite rekindling their friendship, the years have placed them on different paths, two worlds apart. “you wanna go dance?”

kennedy's reaction is exactly why nadia finds it as indulging to tease them about santi . nadia would be lying if she didn't inwardly cringe at it , too . her grin stays large and present on her face as the two laugh . she feels like a teenager again , which is only elevated at the mention of study guides . " did i not offer you weed and alcohol aplenty in return ? " she pretends to scoff , as if the exchange wasn't still WHOLLY UNFAIR to kennedy . " i wouldn't have passed any classes without those study guides . " nadia's grades were as abysmal as anything else that requires her to spend time on it .

the warm contact of their arm around her makes her smile , almost abashed , down at the floor . they're both not huggers , but there's familiarity there . " i hear from her every now and then . " nadia replies and hopes to god they leave it at that . her phone burns in her pocket , silent and abandoned . a reminder of how her parents view her generally . " i mean your duty in the same way the royals talk about their crown . " in a way , kennedy and their job is comparable to the monarchy . nadia offers them her sweetest smile and is pleased when it works when kennedy eases up . " a fluff piece , huh ? what will that constitute of ? the night was young , and the town people were hot . . " she fakes a news anchor tone . honestly , nadia can't remember the last time she read the register , but she'd be more prone to pick it up now if it meant supporting kennedy . nadia beams , all teeth , as she clinks her second shot glass against kennedy's . " cheers to us drinking together again . who woulda thought that would happen ? 22 year old us would refuse to believe it . " it's meant to be said in a positive way , but it sounds like a horrible REMINDER OF FAILURE even to nadia's ears . she busies herself with clinking the shot glass again , with more determination this time , and swiftly downing it .

Barbie (2023)

the silence between is heavy and the house seems to settle within it, wind whistling through the room as if to cut the tension. a shiver runs through them once more, the chill more physical than mental this time. kennedy is hyper-aware of their surroundings. of the dust particles floating in the air, the stray moonlight peeking into the room from poorly boarded-up windows, and kieran talbot. standing as the centerpiece.  illuminated by a warm light, lips parted slightly, a small twitch in his brow, dark eyes trained on them with a reflected caution. he almost looks like a painting. like something they would see in some museum, drawn by an unknown tragic artist, toeing the line between beautiful and unsettling. so kennedy does flinch when kieran moves closer, all instinct, eyes narrowing into daggers— a silent warning.

the mention of their book is unexpected and the wary glare softens into something kennedy can’t quite place, somewhere between amusement and surprise. they were sure that their parents did their best to spread the word about kennedy's achievement around town but they didn’t actually expect anyone care enough to pick up their book. they haven't spoken to anyone about it, not even santiago. so under kieran's mention of it, they suddenly find themselves thinking back on their time in italy.

a small church yet beautifully ornate with stained glass windows depicting idolized saints and dutiful angels. their eyes meeting his— the priest in their story. father caruso. the last murderer they were in a room with as far as they know .  the man who had the whole town wrapped around his finger. kennedy remembers looking around the cathedral, catching glimpses of the people in the pews looking up at him with teary reverence, clinging to his every word.

kieran’s voice pulls them back to the present, directing their attention to the battered bed nearby. sybil thorne’s bed. kennedy’s flashlight follows instinctively, skimming over the surface before snapping back to kieran, unwilling to lose sight of him. they feel disoriented, trapped between two worlds—the cathedral in their memory and the decaying thorne house.

kieran’s words settle in the room like the dust swirling in the faint light. more lamb than butcher. the phrase plays over in their mind, the weight of it heavier than they expect. "yeah?" they finally speak up, canting their head slightly, a slow-growing smile making its way to their features. "so what's a sweet little lamb like you doing out here then? hoping to find a purpose to bleed yourself into?" kennedy wasn’t fully convinced, they would be foolish to be, but they’ve never been the type to look to god or the universe for guidance. their gut was their bible and right now, it’s telling them that the kid who spent years buried in old articles and cold cases might be better used as an asset than dismissed as a suspect. they lower their flashlight some, and perhaps their guard as well. for now at least. "'cus i might just be on the same boat as you. " there's another pause then, only this time it doesn't feel so daunting. "do you think this place is actually haunted?" a sudden ask. they just can't help but shake the feeling that they were being watched. was it paranoia? god?

ꜜ ﹙ ⚰️  ﹚ ﹕ the questions hung heavy in the air for a few moments, met with kieran's silence as the thorne house creaked and groaned with every cold autumn breeze, almost as if the very walls were an audience reacting to this confrontation. he held his stance even against the blinding light of kennedy's flashlight, expression caught somewhere between surprise and something more akin to indignance against the returned accusation. it should be expected ﹕ he probably checked off multiple boxes in some litmus test for serial killers, but allegations felt like smoke sometimes ⸻ it could be suffocating if left unchallenged. he let the silence stretch out between them just for a few more beats, the weight of it pressing down on him like the dust that covered this old rotten place, before finally taking a small step forward. just to see if it would rattle them, just to see if they would flinch, just to see how much kennedy actually believed him to be red creek's newest murderer. then, a smile as he shook his head. “ i read your book, y'know ? great work you did there. but people look at it like it was an exposé on that priest, the oh so terrible things he did to maintain people's faith ... but the way i see it, it's more a revelation of the lies people tell themselves. ” kieran shrugged nonchalantly, casting his light on the bedside table, where sibyl thorne's weathered bible remained after all these years. and he wondered if she believed god would save her son from the misplaced wrath of this town. “ they need something to believe in, something bigger than their own insignificance. faith healing, prayers to some god, a big dose of hope and dopamine from the bible— because to live in a world without that, without the illusion of purpose, of salvation, would be too much. it's easier to believe in that whole weird apocalyptic scifi literature than accept we're just specks of dust drifting in a universe that doesn't really give a damn. ” and finally another step forward, hands raised in feigned surrender. he didn't always say much, sometimes not even enough, but kieran felt an affinity for kennedy ﹕ both of them only trying to make sense of what was happening in their town. “ guess what i'm tryin' to say is, i may not look like it, but i give too much of a damn to be an indifferent killer like this goddamn universe. i'm really just like all those people, ken. more a lamb than a butcher. ” a mess of belief, fighting too hard for meaning to ever be an empty murderer.

DEV PATEL as GAWAIN THE GREEN KNIGHT (2021)

the sisters of the moon was the only place salvador ever felt remotely out of place in redcreek. the ambiance, the talk of spirituality and divination, crystal balls and fancy tarot cards... it all felt like bullshit to him. there was one thing that did pique his interest however, and it was the babes. nadia, hana, even vicente could get it if salvador ever managed to get a room alone with him. so if pretending to believe in whatever 'witchy' nonsense they represented was the best way to make a pass at any of them, salvador was willing to play along. he sees hana before he notices the card making it's way to him. "hmm totally." he hums back, the corner of his lip twitching in amusement. she was cute when she got excited like that—eyes sparkling with some sort of passion he couldn't quite understand. not anymore. he bends down for the card as well, or at the very least, to help her up. "is the message that you're finally gonna let me take you out sometime?"

📍 sisters of the moon, just before closing. 🗝️ open to five replies.

☾ the small reading room has become something of a second home to hana. the spot was easy to reclaim even after three years away, almost like the universe saved her a seat. at the end of it all, maybe it was exactly where she was meant to fall— a solo stage to hold her audience's attention, tucked into the back corner of sisters of the moon. she cares for the space like her own home, neatly packing every item into its slot at the end of every shift. as she works through the mental chores list today, a card slips from the deck & flutters from the back room. it lands by a familiar silhouette, to which she trails after; moth to a flame. ❝ totally a sign that you needed to be in here today. looks like you just got a message. ❞ she hums, kneeling down to collect the card. there's a cheery glint in her eyes, ❝ wanna know what it says ? ❞

location : santiago's apartment

time : sometime after 3:00am.

for : santiago @atonehart

“it’s borderline fascinating…” they had been going on a while now, from the moment they walked through the door. “...how you can’t seem to listen to save your life! i said go home and what do you do? you go to the fucking bar! seriously santi, it’s like you— no, leave the peas on for a couple minutes more. it’ll help with the swelling.” kennedy shouldn’t even be here. they should be out there. gathering intel,  securing interviews, writing that damn story for the register. tending to the wounds of the prodigal ‘brother’ should be at the bottom of their priorities right now. yet there they were, walking over with a glass of water, a dose of painkillers, and an awfully sour expression. there's a pause the transaction ensues and after a beat, they finally ask, "are you okay?"

under normal circumstances, the sight of a bustling redstone would have made vikram turn on his heels and find somewhere else to waste the hours away but nothing about today felt normal and it seemed like the whole town shared his sentiment in looking for a distraction from why. an audibly relieved sigh escapes him when he hears emilia's offer and he quickly makes his way over before someone else beats him to it. "thank you." he says, sinking into the seat beside her. "i thought i was going to stand there forever," only a partial joke. he would have sooner given up and headed home before pushing his way through the line of people. her comment about how depressing it is to drink alone earns a soft laugh from him. "that's actually what i do most nights." he admits, head casting down in a sheepish smile. "it's not too bad when you uh, just want to catch a game or make small talk with people. i usually go for a beer but—" he looks at the glass she just emptied. "—what were you having? looked strong." maybe he could use a bit of that today.

date : november first, around 9pm

location : redstone bar

for : open starter

" THIS SEAT'S OPEN, " she calls to someone, after taking a few heartbeats to watch the person standing struggle with finding a place at the bar to sit. the pub was surprisingly busy considering the news ; when emilia had headed towards the redstone bar after her shift at the diner, she thought for sure she'd be the only one here. as it was, she wasn't sure why she had to work a diner shift today anyway—shouldn't the murder of a townsperson, i don't know, mean some kind of town-wide day off ? but it was for the best, because if the diner closed, then the bar surely would be... and right now the only thing keeping her sane was the drink in her hand. her second of the past forty or so minutes. knocking the remains of her drink back, she motions to call over a bartender. " c'mon, what are you having ? it's kinda depressing drinking alone. " and right now, red creek was nothing if not depressing.

“did something happen today?” they ask, never missing an opportunity to be nosy. kennedy isn't sure why they invited efiie out to dance. they never made much of a habit to hang out with another journalist back in new york. maybe they were growing soft. a realization they will no doubt nurse along with a headache tomorrow morning at the rate they are going. that’s a problem for later though. right now? everything is good. the music is good, the ambiance is good, kennedy is feeling good, effie is looking good. it’s all good! effie’s observation earns chuckle from kennedy. “i can’t get anything past you, can i? okay — i might have a bit of a head start on you.” they admit, looking down at their hands for a moment before flashing her a rare, mischievous grin. “so let’s get you caught up! what’s your poison?” 

" you know what ... after the evening i've had ? why not. " she matches the volume over the music, smoothing down the front of her daphne dress. a small tear, poorly put together with a safety-pin at her side, proving to be the source of her frustration. the spin takes her off guard, makes her sputter off something close to a laugh. a squeeze is given to the fingers interlacing hers, but a brow promptly arches upward. " have you already started drinking, kennedy? "