"A Lot Of Competitive Spirit," She Laughed. She Hadn't Been Here Very Long, But That Was Clear. "Me Too,

As much as she had originally been not the most enthusiastic about being here, Leyla had to admit it had been a really nice weekend. Having spent so much time in New York, it was strangely refreshing--and equally terrifying--to be seen. She had never been a small town before, and it was a bit like a movie the way people were kind. "You're not bothering me," she assured as she set her book aside and extended her hand for the lotion, "the back's the hardest part. Always better with two. Are you enjoying your weekend?"

who: LIBBY & LEYLA! @leyla-tehrani

where: beach bash.

when: sometime during the late afternoon (August 26th).

Libby was reading one of her spicy romance novels and listened to Hozier's new album in her earphones, and it was her perfect way to spend a day on the beach. Especially after the big volleyball game. An hour or so passed before she realized that she needed to reapply her sunscreen, wanting to avoid her already pink-tinted skin getting sunburned. The squirt of the lotion bottle sounded and Libby massaged some between her hands, trying to get every bit of skin she could. Libby struggled a moment to get a certain area on her back and when she couldn't fight it anymore, she decided she needed to ask for a little bit of help. "I'm so sorry to bother you, but could you please help me put some sun lotion on my back? I've tried to do it myself and I've learned that I don't have long enough arms."

"I agree," she hummed, "they're just...majestic." Smiling as Elise mentioned cats, she admitted, "you have cats? How many? I've been spending more time than a normal person should at the cat cafe. If I'm not careful, I'm going to take one home." Leyla could talk about animals all day. People? She wasn't so sure about most times, but animals? Animals were trustworthy. "That makes sense, sounds like something you'd have to really dedicate too, like no other jobs. Doesn't sound like a bad sports career option, though. I bet it was fun as a kid though, to grow up that way?"

"There's a large and quiet elegance about horses," Elise said, nodding along. "I have cats and those are...fake elegant, whereas the horses are the real thing." She smiled at the interest, most people did not care about dressage in the least. "Nah, you have to be really good and have the time to do it as an adult, it's kind of like many other sports, except it's hard to do for fun if you're not competing."

#serving looks

"Yeah, simple switch for that one," she said. Being self-taught in the most of the ways of mixology in the last couple of years when she decided on her business idea, she was happy to share the knowledge. "I'd be happy to teach you," she offered, "which is probably terrible as a business model, but if you're wanting the alcohol version, it's not direct competition." The flight option was one of her personal favorites, but she liked the ability to sample a menu. "There's no alcohol, not a drop in the whole place," she assured, "we are fully non-alcoholic, so no back up plans needed, no hangovers the next day, just a great time."

"Oh, that's easy enough to remember." Ryn nodded, listening at the comment of replacing the syrup with the liquor. She wasn't the most knowledgeable when it came to alcohol or mixing things together, but the other seemed to be much more knowledgeable and Ryn was thankful she'd gotten to listen to her. "I'll have to see if I can find the stuff and make my own at home." she spoke. "Though, I'm thinking you'd just be much better at it then I would, so, maybe I just need to come out there anytime I want something fancy." she laughed. At the mention of the flight option, Ryn inhaled in excitement. "Ooh, yeah. Definitely have to come out and try that. Though, I need to ask, do you do flights of mixed non-alcoholic and alcoholic there? Because if not, I may need to be sure I have a backup plan." she laughed. "I haven't drank anything alcohol related in awhile, so, I can't promise I won't be a lightweight."

CINNAMON ROLL DAY! -- @aishathevar @emelineviolette @leyla-tehrani

Because you guys are the best adopted dog parents that Walter and Gale could ask for, and also because you deal with me being a man... and that makes you cinnamon rolls in my eyes.

xx Dare

Leyla knew there had been a concert about a month ago, but she hadn't gone. The idea of really being part of the town, opening herself up to people again, it sort of scared her. It was much easier to do it all in the context of work. Still, she had seen the posters and thought she remembered seeing his face in one somewhere. "Do you mind if we talk a little business then?" She asked, "because I want to put on some events in the bar, and I thought live music would be a great option. I know you're more of a...louder band, but do you ever perform any acoustic sets?"

"Thanks!" he offered up a warm smile as she began working on his drinks. At the question of being in a band, he confirmed with a nod. He wasn't entirely sure which band she was referring to, but he could probably safely assume she wasn't a devoted fan of any sort and just had heard around town. "I am, yeah."

Everyone was having a good time, and that's what was important. She just wasn't sure she wanted to be in the middle of chaos. It made it hard to keep a distance from people, made even harder by the approaching roommate who appeared to have a look to make her do something. Still, she smiled back and waved her hand over her book, drink, and beach chair, "is this not a beach activity? I like this one."

who: aisha & @leyla-tehrani

where: the beach bash ( august 26 )

Even though Aisha wasn't participating in the volleyball game, she still wanted to experience everything else the beach bash had to offer. Including spending an unhealthy amount of time in the water. She'd only gotten out to get a drink, and maybe chat with a few friends when she noticed her roommate in a beach chair. She wandered over to her, drying herself off with a towel as she eyed the book she had in her hands. "Hey, Leyla!" she gave a bright smile. "Not a fan of any of the beach activities?"

"I'm at a good stopping point anyway," Leyla offered, but her smile was so sweet it would have felt like kicking a puppy to not meet her at least halfway in her desire to be friends. "Because it's more fun to enjoy the sweaty, sculpted views than to get hit in the face with a ball?" She answered the rhetorical question with a bit of a laugh. Maybe it was the warmth of the sun or the zen of the ocean waves, book reading, and mocktail combination or maybe Aisha's jovial nature was a bit infectious, but Leyla was not exactly miserable. "No, but let's go anyway," she said, readying herself to chase this thing into the water when she inevitably missed.

"Really?" her expression brightened when Leyla had finally relented to hang out with her, and she shook her head. "I definitely won't laugh, considering I'm probably just as bad as you are at it. Why do you think I'm not playing in the Volleyball game?" she was as uncoordinated as it got, but tossing a frisbee wouldn't be as pressuring as the competitive nature of the upcoming game. She dug in her beach bag for her frisbee, trying to find it before she changed her mind, and got it out, putting her bag on the ground near Leyla's chair. "Ready?" she gave a grin.

She wanted more for him, same as she wanted from him. It was six months ten years ago, and she could still remember every bit of it. If she let it, her mind would trick her into believing he was safe again. That was the thing about Vitus, though. She would push him, say things that would piss off any other person, and he'd only acknowledge it in his own quiet, self-destructive way. Sometimes, she almost wished he wasn't sorry because it would make the truth so much easier to bear.

But he was. It just didn't take it away: the pain, the anger, the feeling that if she'd been somebody else it wouldn't have happened. She wasn't the first, though, and by the looks of his face, not the last. He left a wake behind him, and that's what she fought against. It's why she couldn't forgive him. "So you've already done your damage, haven't you?" She asked, venom draining momentarily from her words. She almost wanted the anger back, then she wouldn't feel so...sad.

Once upon a time, he'd have held her when she felt this way and all the broken pieces would have just slid right back into place. Like a puzzle. But that's all it was...a Once Upon a Time, a fairytale, a happily ever after that never gets finished. The book just closes on all the unanswered questions. "Yeah," she muttered, "it's a safe place. The kind of place I wanted growing up--the kind of place we would have benefitted from. Where people are kind, know you, accept you...it's warm." It wasn't a reflection of her, thank goodness, but it was the dream. It was the little girl she'd been once. It was for her.

How did he do that? Even when she hated him, she told him things. "Listen, I know I said some things last we talked that I--I shouldn't have said," in the closest thing to an apology he would get, "but you broke me. Do you know what it's like to go to bed one night the happiest you've ever been in your life and the next day, it's...gone? Trust doesn't grow back the same when it's ripped from you, the innocent, naive belief that the person who loves you can't possibly hurt you--would be absolutely incapable of it--it doesn't come back. And whether I get hit by a bus tomorrow or live past 100, I think I'll hate you forever for that. For saying you loved me and all the ways that wasn't enough--for making me believe that meant I wasn't enough."

He'd lost entire days with Leyla, but he hadn't lost her. He remembered small details, and they came into sharper focus the more she talked, reaching with her voice to tug them loose. Details like her father's name, Rahim; her birthday, late May; the roses he had woken her with the morning she turned twenty-four. Vitus rubbed his sternum while she spoke, like he could still feel her after all these years.

And she could still feel him too, it seemed, because she turned the last sentence into a projectile and struck him right across the face with it. A wince tangled his expression.

"I'm..." Sorry. But he'd already said that, so many times, and she'd never wanted to hear it. He couldn't ease Leyla's pain like he used to, but he could give her the truth, at least: "I moved last August. Been here a full year now. I—" Cheated on my girlfriend and lost her and needed a change of scenery. Another blink, at that, as he realized what he was about to say. Ten years, during which time she'd opened that business she always wanted for herself, and what had he done meanwhile? The very same thing that had destroyed their relationship. Even after arriving here for his fresh start, he'd broken multiple people's trust. Her reminder of that lodged itself in his throat, clawing down into his ribcage, until all he could do was laugh incredulously at himself. Or try to, at least. The sound grabbed his guilt on its way out and morphed into something painful. "God. Fuck."

He forced his eyes to stay on her, lest he run again. She really did look the same—that same strong nose he'd once admired, the same hands he'd once held between his own. A few bits of tenderness, aching and bruised, pushed through to the surface. "That's... really good. That you opened your own place."