“you Are Bleeding." Vikram Is Too Stunned To Offer Anything Other Than The Truth Right Now. Getting

location : the register

time : early afternoon

for : ricardo( @inadeqcies)

in response to this

it was kennedy’s day off. they had plans to unwind. do some grocery shopping. take themselves out on a date to the movies like they had been meaning to. maybe even try not to think about the murder that had been weighing on their mind since halloween. the last thing on their todo list? a literal manhunt... yet there they were, storming into register, stomping past familiar cubicles and any coworkers that might still be lingering in the area. if anyone had said anything to her, kennedy couldn’t hear them over the blood roaring in her ears. “what—” the door slams behind them as they barge into his office. they knew ricardo was in there—could practically smell his cologne from the moment they walked into the building. intrusive. out of place. like the rest of his presence in redcreek. . “—in the ever-loving fuck—” a copy of the newspaper is slammed on top his desk, the sides wrinkled from where they had dug their nails into it, red ink scattered angrily across the print. almost like a bloodstain. “—were you thinking? quickly.”

while micaela studies her wine, vikram keeps his gaze on her. solely on her. he doesn’t rush to fill the spaces she leaves open, doesn’t move to urge her to speak again. never one to push for someone to reveal more of themselves than what they were comfortable with. when her eyes finally lift to meet his, he offers a small, almost imperceptible smile—not cheerful, not trying to fix anything. just there. present. he holds her gaze, something he normally struggles with, but not in moments like this. not with her. he takes notice of how the candlelight further softens her features, adding warmth to her mournful eyes. it's beautiful. it's devastating.

vikram has seen grief in every form—raw, quiet, angry, numb—a tangled mix of it all. he’s seen how it hollows people out. how losing someone also meant burying fragments of yourself with them. mourning both the past and the future. memories lost and never gained. “grief doesn’t have a handbook,” he says, his voice quiet, steady. “not really. there are tips, things to try, stories from people who’ve been through it so you don’t feel so alone... but a guide?” he shakes his head slowly, “it’s too layered for that. it doesn’t follow rules, doesn’t care about time or logic. one moment, it lets you breathe, the other it just... knocks the wind out of you. that doesn’t mean you’re doing it wrong.” he shifts forward slightly, his hands resting lightly on the table, his voice dipping lower, gentler. “it’s okay not to know what to do with it mic. really. sometimes, just feeling it—letting yourself feel it—is enough.” if there is anything he can offer micaela, it's the affirmation that she is doing her best and that he sees it. "—and if i can be someone to help you carry it, micaela. i would gladly do it." he hopes she knows that.

𝖯𝖫𝖠𝖢𝖤   :   lakeside   grill. 𝖶𝖨𝖳𝖧   :   vikram   shah,   @brntout.

               micaela   stared   into   her   glass,   watching   the   light   from   the   candle   flicker,   the   soft   glow   bouncing   off   the   red   wine.   she   let   her   fingers   trace   the   rim,   trying   to   focus   on   the   rhythm   of   the   motion,   anything   to   distract   her   from   the   heaviness   of   the   conversation,   the   burden   of   the   grief   she   carried   so   quietly.   she   hadn’t   expected   it   to   feel   like   this   ┈   so   easy   to   let   her   guard   down,   so   easy   to   be   honest.   with   everyone   else,   she   had   to   keep   the   walls   up.   she   had   to   keep   moving   forward,   smiling,   pretending   everything   was   fine.   but   with   vikram,   it   felt   like   the   air   was   different.   it   was   like   he   understood,   even   when   she   didn’t   say   a   word.   his   silence   wasn’t   uncomfortable,   it   was   ...   safe.   she   didn’t   have   to   fill   it   with   explanations   or   forced   words.   for   the   first   time   in   so   long,   she   didn’t   have   to   fake   anything.                her   eyes   flicked   up   at   him,   his   calm   presence   holding   her   steady.   “   i   still   can’t   believe   she’s   gone,   ”   she   said   quietly,   the   words   heavy   on   her   tongue.   she   felt   her   breath   catch,   but   there   was   a   strange   comfort   in   just   saying   it   out   loud.   “   some   days,   it   doesn’t   feel   real,   ”   she   continued,   her   voice   faltering,   a   lump   in   her   throat   she   couldn’t   swallow.   “   and   other   days,   it   feels   like   everything’s   too   much   to   bear.   ”   the   words   were   raw,   but   they   didn’t   feel   like   they   were   ripping   her   open   the   way   they   did   when   she   kept   them   locked   away.   she   thought   about   the   days   since   her   mom’s   death,   all   the   days   she’d   carried   it   alone,   trying   to   be   strong,   to   keep   it   together   for   everyone   else.   and   now,   with   vikram,   she   didn’t   have   to.   she   realized   she   hadn’t   allowed   herself   to   truly   feel   it,   not   until   now.   she   wasn’t   sure   if   it   was   his   quiet   understanding   or   the   fact   that   he   didn’t   expect   her   to   have   the   answers,   but   she   suddenly   felt   the   freedom   to   just   ...   be.   “   i   don’t   know   what   to   do   with   all   of   it,   ”   she   murmured,   her   voice   barely   above   a   whisper,   her   gaze   dropping   back   to   her   wine.   “   but   i   think   i’m   learning   that   it’s   okay   to   let   someone   else   carry   some   of   it,   even   if   just   for   a   little   while.   ”

soon as she unblocks me the wedding is back on

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?"

"you know i was trying to flirt?" vikram is totally butchering this. it's painfully obvious he doesn't do this often. a mental note is made to run this scenario by his therapist next time he sees them. 'i approached this lady but she thought i was flirting and i was not, not flirting but she called me out and i made it awkward. so how do i do that better next time?' something like that. "to be fair... it was a good hiding place. i don't think anyone would have thought to look down there." he wipes whatever debris was left on his knee from bending down, a chuckle escaping them once more at kirby's words. to think that the phantom's sins could be washed away by finding someone their candy bucket is nothing short of amusing. "i'm glad i could help." he looks around, noticing they’ve wandered onto one of the less populated streets. "can i walk you home? or... back to the main road, maybe?"

was  her  flirting  off  ?  no  ,  she  was  good  at  this  ,  so  good  she  did  it  on  accident  sometimes  even  .  “  i  know  you  were  ,  i  was  trying  to  -  ah  ,  forget  about  it  .  ”  she  followed  him  ,  a  dumb  move  to  follow  a  masked  man  but  he  was  looking  for  her  pumpkin  and  that  made  him  a  halfway  decent  guy  in  her  book  .  “  oh  great  ,  holy  shit  ,  why  did  i  put  it  under  a  car  ?  ”  she  racks  her  brain  trying  to  make  sense  of  the  rationale  there  .  what  if  the  person  whose  car  it  was  decided  to  back  up  over  her  candy  or  just  drove  off  ?  was  she  as  smart  as  she  thought  she  was  ?  clearly  the  fuck  not  .  “  thank  you  so  much  ,  i  was  gonna  spend  the  whole  night  just  moping  around  my  apartment  ,  wishing  i  had  a  fuckin'  snickers  or  something  .  see  ,  the  phantom  was  the  good  guy  all  along  !  ”

there was a chill in the air — both physical and metaphorical. people filtering out of bars and diners, a sea of buzzing phones and slurred questions. ‘who’s body did they find?’ it was shocking, confusing even and while vikram did not fit the role of a hero nor did he like pretending to, the sight of a lone woman stumbling away from the crowd was enough to spring him into action. after all, he’s already got one body to embalm… best not make it two.

so he approaches, black cape flowing behind him, contrasting the white half mask he still has on his face. an eerie silhouette. it’s not surprising that she’s startled by his sudden presence. “sorry — uh, did you lose something?” quick to bring attention back to her behavior rather than how ‘goddamn quiet’ he moves. “i can help you look for it. i don’t think it’s uh, a good idea to be out alone right now.” 

○    LOCATION   ⏤   red   creek   main   street   . ○    TIME   ⏤   11   :   57   pm  ○    STATUS   ⏤   open   to   all   !

warehouse  party  ?  shut  down  .  pumpkin  bucket  filled  with  candy  ?  stashed  somewhere  on  main  street  .  plan  to  go  home  and  write  this  night  off  as  a  minor  success  because  at  least  she  didn't  laze  around  her  apartment  in  ratty  pajamas  and  watch  practical  magic  for  the  third  time  this  week  ?  in  motion  …  if  she  could  remember  where  her  bucket  went  .  she  didn't  do  all  that  schlepping  around  town  for  nothing  ,  not  in  this  tiny  ass  skirt  .  and  now  ,  as  she  looked  around  the  quickly  emptying  main  area  of  the  town  ,  kirby  realized  that  maybe  she  was  an  actual  idiot  .  murderville  ,  usa  ,  was  not  where  she  wanted  to  be  caught  after  midnight  on  halloween  of  all  fucking  nights  ,  oh  jeez  .  as  she  quickly  looked  under  benches  and  behind  some  cars  ,  she  sensed  someone  slightly  to  the  side  of  her  and  jumped  only  slightly  .  “  shitfuck  !  you  are  so  goddamn  quiet  ,  jesus  christ  !  ”

vikram shah ​🇹​​🇭​​🇪​ ​🇵​​🇭​​🇦​​🇳​​🇹​​🇴​​🇲​ makes an appearance @ the warehouse, this halloween!

“i’m sure they are fine.” if she’s with taylan then kennedy feels a little better about selin's safety. what were brothers for if not to have some muscle when needed? or to provide a place to crash when the town decides to mandate a curfew all of a sudden? their smile only widens when santiago offers his laptop. "really? yeah, where is it?" it would be a good idea for them to check it out sooner rather than later. to this day, kennedy can’t fathom why he would leave his nursing job to work at a dingy little motel. it felt like such a waste and it was no secret that their parents felt the same way… but they don’t need to remind santiago of that—not tonight, at least. “maybe we should collab sometime. you hand me the fresh gossip and i see if there’s any story to be gained. did you have to sign an nda or anything like that? like, would you be allowed to tell me if someone was having an affair or something?” probably it wouldn't be newsworthy unless it was the mayor or the sheriff but still— “are you happier there?” kennedy can’t help but ask, perhaps against their better judgment.

santiago's question about how they’re doing at the register reminds kennedy of the interaction they had with ricardo earlier that evening. their expression shifts into something more sour. “my boss is about as narcissistic as it gets, which is… interesting, i suppose.” that’s one way to put it. you'd think they'd be used to dealing with them by now. "aside from that, it’s not bad. a little boring, honestly. tonight is probably the most newsworthy thing to happen in... well, 25 years." are they a monster for thinking that? maybe. "the parties in new york are obviously better. you would know if you visited me some time."

⁑ ❝ man versus chair, more like it. ❞ santi huffs, recalling the impossibly fast play - through of events. in all honestly, he may have acted with instinct over intellect, trying to pry the two apart and getting knocked back instead. ❝ don't even really know how that happened— one minute i'm chasin' after taylan & selin, the next i'm knocked flat on my ass. i'm sure she got home safe but it was so— . . . ❞ he puffs air into his cheeks, frustrated he slipped up on his one goal of seeing her get home safe. he tells himself he'll call first thing in the morning. at least kennedy doesn't push back on his offer to stay over; that's one less person he has to worry about falling into the hands of a knife - wielding boogeyman. even if they've never gotten along well, she's still his sister in all the ways that matter.

at the mention of her deadline, he feels a familiar twist of envy in his stomach — his step - sister, the best selling author, their parents are probably so proud. he tries not to dwell tonight. ❝ do you need a laptop ? i've barely touched mine since i graduated but– it probably still works. ❞ ( she might need to leave it plugged in, but still. ) there's the mention of his own work— the clerical position that he finally secured after leaving nursing. extremely dull in comparison. ❝ it's okay. i get to see what all the people in red creek are sneakin' to the motel for, which is fun. no shift tomorrow 'cos i covered the day shift today. ❞ he shrugs it off. ❝ how's workin' in red creek after leaving new york ? y'know . . . repeat of the boogeyman aside. ❞

“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? "