"it Means You Didn't Break Your Nose." He Tries, Speaking Carefully As To Not Feed Into Her Panic. "we're

“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. ❞

the message behind rafael’s words only deepens kennedy's amusement. it’s such a stark contrast to everything she’s ever known. she’s used to plotting, to blending grit and determination with a little bit of elbow grease to get what she wants. the simple idea that sometimes all she had to do was ask? that feels almost foreign to her— even for something as inconsequential as having rafael buy her a drink. “careful— give me too much power and i can't promise i won't let it go to my head” she replies, a hint of mischief finding its way in their eyes as they tap a cautionary finger on his chest. when rafael leans in, kennedy does too, smiling at his critique. “you’re only saying that to make me feel better!”  they holler over his shoulder, allowing themselves to be pulled in by rafael's familiar and ever so careful lead.

the bar is not nearly as loud as the dance floor but it’s still lively enough to warrant them staying close. any more yelling as kennedy fears they won't be able to use their voice tomorrow. “wait— that is the cutest thing ever!" fondness flickers in her expression at the mention of rafael's parents. "i’ll have to hold you to that dance another time, then. preferably when we’re less likely to get elbowed in the face. oh— i'll just have a tequila sunrise or something." they should probably follow rafaels lead and stick to nursing a beer for the night but they have never been a fan of them. prefers their flavored cocktails.   their index finger hooks onto the strap of his wings, careful not to snap the elastic as she fixes it over his shoulder. “nice costume, by the way. … icarus? no — wait, don’t tell me.” their eyes narrow as they try to place it. “the guy from saltburn?” the one that people swear looks like kieran but kennedy thinks it's just the height.

"all  you  need  to  do  is  ask  and  i'll  obey,  kennedy.  i'm  only  semi  -  oblivious."  he's  always  been  a  compliant  person;  the  spotter,  the  watcher,  the  willing.  won't  put  himself  into  a  risky  position,  but  won't  let  his  friends  walk  into  danger  alone,  either.  almost  too  eager  to  accompany  them;  like  it's  his  duty.  rafael's  smile  only  widens  as  kennedy  laughs,  his  gaze  drifting  upwards  as  purple  and  orange  hues  wash  over  them.  "and  between  the  two  of  us  -,"  leans  in,  eyes  falling  onto  her  again,  "-  i  don't  think  half  the  people  in  here  know  how  to  dance  -  to  anything.  but  -"  his  hand  finds  her  wrist,  gentle  as  he  guides  her  away  from  the  floor  and  towards  the  bar.  always  delicate  -  always  cautious.  "-  your  wish  is  my  command.  personally  -  i'd  love  to  waltz  across  the  room  with  you.  i  know  a  thing  or  two,  y'know  -  my  parents  were  big  on  that  stuff.  probably  didn't  want  me  to  embarrass  them  at  my  first  school  dance."

any mention of marie never fails to make kennedy advert their gaze from santiago. it's subtle, usually under the pretense of being occupied with something else, like inputing a password into a laptop. "thank you." they say, not willing to comment on the two reminders that passweord held. 3126— the house the two grew up in. marie—that house was never meant for kennedy and their mother to begin with.

it takes them back to one of their earliest memories as a new 'family'. at the time kennedy was certain their mother's attempt of uniting their two families was just a ploy to make her own father jealous. a classic move: mom and dad split. mom and dad introduce new partners. mom and dad get back together again. but suzanne's affinity with jonathan herrera was of a different beast. when suzanne wasn't with him, she was daydreaming about him—his wealth, his gifts, his home—3126. the future he would provide her and by extension, his daughter... and kennedy absolutely hated it. so the first time santiago mentions his mother and how she was not coming back, kennedy responds with. 'well my father isn't dead so he is.'

an apology had been given. indignantly. from behind her mother's legs. an 11 year old who knew the cruelty in their words but was too overwhelmed by their own emotions to worry about anyone else's. though the years had slowly managed to mend the bad foot in which the two started their sibling relationship, there is a part of kennedy that still replays that moment. they can still picture santiago's expression—the hurt in his brown eyes, raw and clear in their memory. he deserved a better apology and maybe tonight was the best night to finally give it—

"that's so depressing, santi. don't say that." they say instead, brows pinching together both at his words and at their own internal cowardice. "the city could suit you too, you know." now that they secured access to a laptop, kennedy's shoulders visibly relax. "you know what? after crashing in that disgusting dumpster fire that june, finch, and avery like to gaslight everyone into believing is an actual apartment... the guest room doesn't feel too bad." they say with a chuckle. if a zombie apocalypse hits kennedy swears that their apartment will be ground zero. "i was thinking of renting something closer to work for the time being." closer to santiago too.

then maybe jon's requests to 'talk some sense' into santiago would lessen to the occasional text or phone call. kennedy knew coming back to town would revert them back to the role they often played within the family— the devils advocate. if the oldest can't lead by example, they're expected to play the role of a third parent. "he doesn't mean it." there they go. "he’s just saying that cus he thinks it’ll... i don’t know. stir something in you.” a sigh escapes them then as they go pinch the bridge of their nose, the wright of the night settling in. "sorry, i know i brought it up but... can we not talk about our parents tonight? i don't want to fight." not when their chest still aches from the panic that gripped them earlier—the panic at the thought that the body found tonight might have been his.

⁑ he rolls his eyes at the comment, all in good fun. ❝ yup. i'm, uh, so well - versed in it, didn't even open the laptop to clear it out. ❞ all said while the dust on the laptop cover tells an entirely different story. as it hums to life, he presses the back of his hand to his temple – like added pressure could stop the pounding in his head. as an afterthought, he adds, ❝ password's marie three - one - two - six. ❞ ( small reminders of his late mother are constants throughout his daily life, if one was to look close enough. )

❝ sorry, freshly accepted i'm doomed to red creek livin' forever. the city suits you, though. ❞ a tired laugh escapes him. just 5 years ago, santi would've shrunk away from the thought. now, it's met with bittersweet acceptance. a life in red creek is— well, it's exactly what he deserves. a small sting ignites in his chest at mention of his own father's excitement. for all intents and purposes, kennedy was his child too. she probably saw his fatherly side more than santi ever would. ❝ noooo. just makin' sure they haven't roped you into a permanent residency of the guest bedroom or somethin'. ❞ he exhales sharply through his nose at the invitation, not quite in him to have a laugh over it. ❝ tell jon he can ask me himself. last i heard from him, i'm not welcome at the table. ❞

on the dance floor, they couldn't make much out of their newfound companion outside of their killer set of legs ( badum tss ) but now that they are in a quieter spot, kennedy takes the opportunity to quench her curiosity and look her over. "minnie? as in the mouse?" they ask, wanting to make sure they have it right. "that's so pretty. i'm kennedy." they introduce themselves with a smile. "yeah? are you saying we have the cosmos to thank then?" they can drink to that! they raise their shot glass toward her, angling their body to face her better. "me? oh i grew up here. born and raised like ninety percent of the town." they offer a one-sided shrug. they found their upbringing to be so mundane. "left town to pursue a career in writing— journalism mostly. i've only been back in town a couple months." a little detail that provides another practical reason as to why the two have never crossed paths before, but kennedy thinks they like minnie's poetic explanation better. "just the weekends? what do you do for work?"

"upped the budget? that sounds so for serial. i wouldn't know, i haven't been in town that long, i guess?" her nose wrinkled up. five years, give or take, could be a long time for some, but for minnie, it had passed in the blink of an eye. so much of that time wasn't remembered. she believed it though, and regardless, she twirls in the last song, and so does the other, and she thinks to herself: okay, yeah, this could be the whole point of this shit, and that's on that. eyes brightened at the rush of adrenaline, and the super change in the night, minnie sidles up to the bar, hand-in-hand, and look, it's the simple things. even this contact has them in a flush. oh, please blame it on the heat! "ooh, these are snazzy. we made a good choice. i'm minnie." is it a brilliant smile? at least the other can show it because her mask is over her shoulder, to avoid sweating her fucking balls off. "our orbits have totally chosen not to collide until, like, the time was right, and now's our time. that's just my opinion! or maybe it's because i work nights on weekends?" the nose scrunch returns. "okay, enough, what's your sitch?"

kennedy trains their gaze on the slit of the dress, as effie speaks. "that's a shame. i could stitch it up for you, if you'd like. do you work tomorrow?" it's only a halloween dress, so kennedy wouldn't blame effie if she just wanted to throw it away. a soft chuckle escapes them when their words are served right back at them. the two really did seem to share a knack for catching things, a vigilance that was no doubt cultivated by their profession. sometimes, it felt like effie shared every aspect that made kennedy a good writer and then some. the grace in which the blonde carries herself is something kennedy is not used to seeing from her fellow reporters. it's borderline infuriating really. journalists are like vultures after all and what business does a vulture have to pretend like they aren't starving for their next meal? it makes them equal parts intrigue and wary, because they are not fully convinced there isn't something of a darker side wrapped in the picture-perfect image that is effie floyd. even her description of her usual night is so... her.

"well, for a fish out of water, you can move." kennedy says with a smile, allowing themselves to follow effies lead in swaying to the rythm. "okay love. whiskey sours are definitely classy." way more than their preference for tequila sodas. a laugh escapes them at effi's words about her city girl antics. "it isn't my scene. not really. i only indulge in this kind of stuff once in a blue moon. figured my first halloween back in town counted as a special enough occasion" simply put, kennedy just wanted to show off tonight. 'sup, losers i'm back in town and not only am i successful but i also look hot covered in blood haha i win you lose.' "so i take it you weren't much of a party girl back home?"

" did something happen ... " she remembers the split of her dress in an instant. thin, sutured with a quick pin stolen from the bar. " oh, that. ugh, got it caught on someone's spikey belt. i think. " an exasperated sigh. " and you say you can't get anything past me ... look at you. " on the contrary, effie hasn't drank yet. she tries to stray away from the habit. finds being the role of the sober friend at the party to be more fulfilling. though, really, who is she to pass up the offer? the atmosphere here is different than the office, kennedy seems to feel lighter. she'll take it. another show of her good intent in picking at her pieces ; the small criticism. if effie thinks differently of kennedy she'd never voice it unless it becomes a necessity. it hasn't yet.

" my poison is usually a warm blanket and wine at home. i'm kind of a fish out of water here. " she grasps kennedy's hands in a steadying gesture, coaxes her to sway with the beat just a bit. " think ... i'll go with the classic whiskey sour though. classy. " she grasps kennedy's hands in a steadying gesture, coaxes her to sway with the beat just a bit. " but i think ... i'll go with the simple whiskey sour though. real classy. " and that's her personal cue to pull their sway towards the bar. " gotta say, didn't think this was your scene. though i guess i sold you too short as a new york girl, huh ? "

"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.

"overall, i think i might be more of a beer guy." vikram admits with a small smile, taking one of the glasses into his hand. "not the type to say no to a free drink, though." especially when its paired with such an amicable smile. "thank you, that's very nice of you. quinn, right?" he's seen her around the hospital during his visits to the mortuary. "do you, uh, want to do a cheer?"

the crowd at the bar was becoming a problem as quinn was hoping the person beside her was actually able to hear her words clearly . quinn's eyes shifted up towards the much taller male in front of her . " it's tequila . " she states , offering a friendly smile . " i know not everyone is a tequila drinker , so i'm hoping you're more of a tequila guy instead of vodka . " she responds .

SUCCESSION (4.10) | WITH OPEN EYES

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.

"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. ❞