𝗁𝗎𝗌𝗁 𝗅𝗂𝗍𝗍𝗅𝖾 𝖻𝖺𝖻𝗒 𝖽𝗈𝗇'𝗍 𝗌𝖺𝗒 𝖺 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗇𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗆𝗂𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗻𝗼𝗶𝘀𝗲 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗋𝖽 ... a dependent blog for @redcreekfm tortured and traumatized by rie.
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@enternights
𝗁𝗎𝗌𝗁 𝗅𝗂𝗍𝗍𝗅𝖾 𝖻𝖺𝖻𝗒 𝖽𝗈𝗇'𝗍 𝗌𝖺𝗒 𝖺 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗇𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗆𝗂𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗻𝗼𝗶𝘀𝗲 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗋𝖽 ... a dependent blog for @redcreekfm tortured and traumatized by rie.
𝘄𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲. redstone bar, shortly after 9:30pm. 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵. lachlan rose. @clandestone
〔 🦢 〕 ... “ 𝗼𝗵 𝗺𝘆 𝗴𝗼𝗱, 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗮𝗿𝗲! 𝗶'𝘃𝗲 𝗯𝗲𝗲𝗻 𝗹𝗼𝗼𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝗻𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁! ” josie exclaims over the noise of the crowd, wrapping an arm around lachlan's. the night's events have clearly shaken her, and her father refuses to return any of her texts, so for the rest of it she's been left alone wandering until she found herself at the bar, the lockdown announced just as she entered the establishment. still, she manages to put a smile on her face at the presence of a friend, hoping it'll at least distract her from her worries. “ i feel like i'm slowly losing my mind, and being trapped here because of a goddamn blizzard is not helping my case. ”
𝘄𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲. weldon family ranch popup, around 7pm. 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵. lennon cole. @tresp4ssing
〔 🦢 〕 ... 𝗮𝘀 𝗷𝗼𝘀𝗶𝗲 𝗽𝗲𝗿𝘂𝘀𝗲𝘀 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗽𝗼𝗽𝘂𝗽𝘀 𝗮𝗿𝗼𝘂𝗻𝗱 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗰𝗹𝘂𝗯𝗵𝗼𝘂𝘀𝗲, there's a lingering feeling of anxiety that refuses to leave her ever since the memorial. it gnaws at her like maggots on rotten flesh, like a migraine that no painkiller could stave off. “ so, what's the difference between oranges and clementines? ” she asks, pointing towards the fruits on display, but she could only keep the act up for so long before heaving a deep sigh. “ i know, it's a stupid question, but humor me, please? i'm in desperate need of normal conversation after ... whatever the hell that was. ”
𝘄𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲. deer lake, around 8:15pm. 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵. bash cannon. @pclarcld
〔 🦇 〕 … 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙣𝙪𝙢𝙗𝙚𝙧 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙝𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙙𝙞𝙖𝙡𝙚𝙙 𝙞𝙨 𝙪𝙣𝙖𝙩𝙩𝙚𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙙, 𝙥𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙚 𝙩𝙧𝙮 𝙖𝙜𝙖𝙞𝙣 𝙡𝙖𝙩𝙚𝙧. a huff escapes angela's lips as she tries to dial kazimir's number again, but to no avail. she catches bash in the crowd and hopes he could be of at least a little help as she runs up to him. “ have you seen your brother? ” she asks, not bothering with greetings when there are more pressing matters to attend to — at least, in her mind. “ i've been trying to call him for the past ten minutes but he won't pick up his goddamn phone. ” she looks down at her phone again, and as expected, finds no updates. “ look, if you see him, tell him to call me back, okay? i have a really important question to ask him. ”
he looks up, eyebrows lifting slightly at angela and the bag of rocks, "shopping spree?" though, he slips the bracelet onto his wrist without question and doesn't state the obvious - that he doesn't think any of this will protect him if the killer really wants him dead. "do i have to keep the stone in my pocket for it to protect me? or can it protect me from my desk at home?" he picks it up, running his fingers over the surface of the black rock, "i dunno anything about this crystal stuff." he admits. then, he gestures to the bag, "i hope you got some protective rocks for yourself in there too. otherwise, i'm going over there and buying more." and despite the recent loss of his cousin, all the victims thus far point to angela being a much more likely target then him, especially with daniela still gone. "and, y'know, maybe some pepper spray for good measure? a taser? how hard do you think it is to get a functional taser around here?"
〔 🦇 〕 … 𝗮𝗻𝗴𝗲𝗹𝗮 𝗶𝘀𝗻'𝘁 𝗿𝗲𝗹𝗶𝗴𝗶𝗼𝘂𝘀, but she could be classified as spiritual. despite her practices, she isn't sure she completely believes in it a hundred percent, but having something to believe in gave her comfort, at the very least, especially during a time where the only other thing she could feel was trepidation. “ carrying it around with you would be stronger. but i guess you could keep it on your desk, i'm sure wallace and gromit would appreciate the protective energy, ” she quips. “ oh, i did. the reading i got before that wasn't really ... in my favor. ” angela isn't one to put blind faith in the cards, but when every reading is ominously telling her to be careful, then that has to mean something, right? “ i mean, i guess, if this was your old run-of-the-mill psycho, but i don't know, griff. it feels ... more than that. like they're after something specific. ” and i don't know if it has anything to do with me, because usually nothing has.
🗓️ february 15 , 7 : 10 p.m. 📍 redstone bar 💬 sienna + carlos ( @enternights )
the bar is too quiet . the usual hustle & bustle is missing tonight , replaced by the kind of quiet that hums with unsaid things . sienna feels it settle on her shoulders as she moves through the room , eyes flicking over the faces of people she’s known practically her whole life , their expressions tight and uneasy . she doesn’t want to bask in it , doesn’t want to drown in the same cycle of hushed voices and sidelong glances .
she finds carlos and slides into the seat across from them , bracing her arms on the table . “ it’s too dark in here , ” she murmurs , not just about the lighting . “ i need a laugh . or some gossip . preferably both. ” the dim bar lights flicker against the sheen of her rings as she drums her fingers , and she offers him a small smile . “ i’ve seen your standup before . you made me laugh when i really needed it . is it too much pressure if i put you on the spot like this ? ”
〔 🐿️ 〕 ... “ 𝗼𝗵, 𝗺𝗮𝗻, 𝗮 𝗹𝗶𝘁𝘁𝗹𝗲 𝗯𝗶𝘁. ” carlos laughs, taking a sip from the slowly warming bottle of beer that they've been nursing since they got here. the vibe of the bar is unlike what it typically is, with tension thick enough to cut with a knife. he heard what happened at the memorial through the whispers going around, shock and confusion painting the faces of patrons coming through the door. god, this town is so fucking cryptic. “ you telling me you don't get enough gossip from that theater of yours? thought you guys lived for the drama or whatever. ”
✦ ⌢ dedicated to @enternights' carlos 𓂂 ✦ ⌢ @ deer lake clubhouse, around 8pm 𓂂
❝ just a second ! i know a packed like, little spell jars in here. ❞ back turned to the steady traffic of fundraiser attendees, hana rummages through one of the boxes she had haphazardly packed. ( should've listened when they told her to keep it minimal. ) it's a win in her book when she manages to pull out a vial that's meant for protection. she spins on her heel, ready to present it to an older woman who just received a particularly bleak reading— carlos medina faces her instead. talk about a jumpscare ! ❝ oh, it's you. ❞ she deflates, moment of victory leaving just as quickly as it came. ❝ did you need something ? ❞
〔 🐿️ 〕 ... 𝗻𝗼𝗻𝗲 𝗼𝗳 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗽𝗼𝗽𝘂𝗽𝘀 𝘀𝗽𝗮𝗿𝗸𝗲𝗱 𝗮𝗻𝘆 𝘀𝗼𝗿𝘁 𝗼𝗳 𝗶𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗲𝘀𝘁 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝗰𝗮𝗿𝗹𝗼𝘀. he should've stayed at redstone, had a few more drinks, but curiosity was strong, and they thought there might be something for him at the clubhouse. but their trip isn't all for nought, not when he catches sight of one hana sayoc from the corner of his eye, strutting up to sisters of the moon with no other intention than to be a nuisance. “ no, if i wanted a couple rocks i'd go looking around the lake, ” carlos quips, picking up a crystal and inspecting it between his fingers. they didn't believe in any of this, tarot, astrology, witchcraft, or whatever the fuck it was — but of course, hana did. there was absolutely nothing they agreed on or had in common. “ i'm not surprised you work here. ”
⸻ 𝙨𝙚𝙩𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 , deerlake clubhouse / feb 15th, 20:05.
⸻ 𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙩𝙪𝙨 , closed for nathan talbot / @enternights.
the clubhouse is suffocating — full of people, but dead silent as the mayor's words hang thick in the air. rebecca doesn't hesitate. " what a coincidence, huh ? " she shouts out, pushing through the crowd, eyes locked on her brother as she storms toward him with conviction. " you. in the middle of it all. again. " her voice isn't calm. this isn't the composed investigative journalist who picks apart the truth in her books or podcast. this is a mother whose daughter is dead, listening to her own brother on that recording, sounding like a man with far too much to hide.
she ignores the stares, the whispers as she finally reaches him. she's used to it by now. always been the talbot outcast, the one people talk about, the one people expect the worst from ... but nathan ? he was never on the wrong side of public opinion. the man who's spent years running this godforsaken town, always hiding behind that carefully curated facade. she's seen it before; the smiles, the demeanor, like butter wouldn't melt. seems he's gotten away with it again — pointing the finger towards cooper riley just as he did with jacob thorne all those years ago — but she's not going to let that happen. not this time.
" why were you there, nathan, hm ? — what exactly did cooper walk in on ? " tries her hardest to stay strong, demand answers, but her voice breaks, tears pooling in her eyes. " tell me you didn't have something to do with this. "
〔 🦂 〕 ... 𝗰𝗮𝗹𝗺, 𝗰𝗼𝗹𝗹𝗲𝗰𝘁𝗲𝗱, 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗶𝗻 𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗿𝗼𝗹. that's the face mayor nathan talbot puts on as he stands before the crowd, a million-dollar smile on his lips and a practiced speech resting on his tongue. however, beneath his undisturbed exterior, fear and anxiety bubble like a pot of boiling water. he knows the names must be bigger than a sick prank, but he couldn't tell the people that. he couldn't let them feel the same things he's been feeling, can't let the town spiral out of his grasp and lose faith. he opens his mouth to speak — but his own voice beats him to the punch. crackling through the speakers, a private conversation aired out for everyone to hear. nathan's blood runs cold, eyes searching for his family in the crowd. for charlotte, for his kids, but it feels as though the world is spinning. he wonders if cooper had set him up, but the moment he catches darshan cuffing him he feels as though he's been vindicated.
still, he has to keep his hands shaking as he stares stares back into the crowd, no longer under the spell he'd cast on them as they break out into whispers. but then nathan hears her through the noise, like a knife cutting through butter, and his gaze falls directly onto his younger sister. a talbot through and through with the way her voice catches everyone's attention. grief and anger punctuate her every word, like little stabs of accusation as she steps closer to where he stands. he knew he had to tell her sooner or later the predicament he found himself in that night in town hall, but he didn't want it to be like this, not in front of hundreds of people watching his every move.
nathan steps off the podium, tries his best to keep his facade up. “ you know damn well i didn't, ” he whispers throught gritted teeth, voice beginning to shake. “ she was de — ” if there's anyone on this earth that could get nathan to truly break, it wouldn't be anyone else but rebecca. “ — she was already dead when i got there. ”
About Time (2013) dir. Richard Curtis
@enternights
𝘄𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲. early rise popup, around 7pm. 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵. cooper riley. @f0xtrots
〔 🦇 〕 … 𝗵𝗮𝗻𝗱𝘀 𝗱𝗲𝗹𝗶𝗰𝗮𝘁𝗲𝗹𝘆 𝘄𝗿𝗮𝗽 𝗮𝗿𝗼𝘂𝗻𝗱 𝗮 𝗰𝘂𝗽 𝗼𝗳 𝗵𝗼𝘁 𝗰𝗵𝗼𝗰𝗼𝗹𝗮𝘁𝗲, a quiet thank you leaving angela's lips. the crowd at deer lake is polarizing, a mix of misplaced cheer and hushed whispers mingling in the air. the names on the memorial haven't left her mind since they were unveiled in town hall, curiosity thoroughly piqued. but this time she's much less inclined to figure out who carved those names, but rather why. “ i wonder if they're suspects, ” she muses out loud, taking a sip of her drink. she looks up at cooper with a raised brow, as if challenging him for his own theories.
𝘄𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲. deer lake, around 7:30pm. 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵. griffin talbot. @chappcdlips
〔 🦇 〕 … 𝗮𝗻𝗴𝗲𝗹𝗮 𝘀𝗲𝘁𝘀 𝗮 𝗯𝗮𝗴 𝗼𝗳 𝗰𝗿𝘆𝘀𝘁𝗮𝗹𝘀 𝗱𝗼𝘄𝗻 𝗼𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘁𝗮𝗯𝗹𝗲, having gone to the sisters of the moon popup for a reading, only to come away with much more despite her disdain for the fundraiser in general. why should she give the sheriff's department her money? she doubts that they'll make good use of it, her trust in them has been dwindling with every second that passes without any updates on daniela. “ here, ” she mutters, handing griffin a hematite bracelet and a black tourmaline stone. “ it's for protection. i wanted to get you a few more things, but i thought it'd be overkill. ” she'd never admit it, but there's a small part of her that's a little paranoid. her sister is missing, her former babysitter is dead, and now her best friend's cousin is, too. despite the pattern, the killer is still unpredictable in ways, and she didn't want to risk anything before it's too late.
LOCATION : the candlelit memorial , sometime around 5pm . open to everyone .
there was something so surreal about the things that were happening in red creek , for the first time the thoughts touching her in more than just a passing way . when she was younger , she had been so idealistic , protected by her parents and looking forwards to life . she thought now that maybe her eyes were opening little by little to what was really going on and how those losses must feel , empathetic heart bleeding more and more for those left behind . she isn't there for personal mourning but to think about the lives that have been lost , to consider the hole they left in the world and all their lives . then , the veil is pulled back and there's more writing than she remembers , a second for her brain to catch up to the foreign thing that is taking place ... she doesn't make a noise as others seem to have some kind of reaction . blink once . instinctually , she reaches out and grabs onto the hand of the person standing beside her , having came alone , separated initially from anyone . it is almost a knee jerk reaction but she doesn't let go , least of all trying to comprehend the presence of her sisters name . not a word spoken . fight , flight ... freeze .
〔 🦢 〕 ... 𝗻𝗼 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱𝘀 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗹𝗱 𝗱𝗲𝘀𝗰𝗿𝗶𝗯𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗲𝗺𝗼𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝘀 𝘀𝘄𝗶𝗿𝗹𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻 𝗷𝗼𝘀𝗶𝗲. it's tough to even acknowledge, especially when she'd rather be anywhere else doing anything else. but she had to show up, she'd be heartless not to, but seeing the names of all those they've lost causes the knot in her stomach to tighten inexplicably. and then more names are unveiled, names of people who still roam the streets of red creek, names of people who are still alive. a involuntary gasp escapes her, head twisting to look at the reactions of everyone around her, seeing if there was any chance the people in question were in the vicinity, but to no avail. was this a joke? a prank? or something more than that? josie nearly jumps out of her skin when alara grabs her hand, the action wholly unexpected, but josie doesn't let go when she realizes why. she squeezes her hand, hoping to give her the comfort she's clearly seeking. “ are you alright? ” she whispers. it's a stupid question, and she knows it is, but the surprise had taken the words out of her mouth.
❛ ⅋ 𝐢. 𝗽𝗿𝗶𝘃𝗮𝘁𝗲 ( @enternights ) ━ setting description : 02 / 15 @ 7:35 pm !
❛ ⅋ 🐇 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝘄𝗮𝘀 𝘀𝘁𝗶𝗹𝗹 𝘄𝗮𝘅 𝘂𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗿 𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆'𝘀 nails from the vigil , and she wasn't sure why that unsettled her so much . maybe it was because it reminded her how easy it was to leave a mark — how easy it was for something to melt away completely . mary sighed , crossing her arms as she eyed the fundraiser crowd . " you ever get the feeling that no one here actually gives a damn ? " she muttered , half to herself , half to whoever was standing close enough to hear . " like . . . they show up , pretend to care , and then tomorrow , it's back to normal ? "
〔 🐿️ 〕 ... 𝗰𝗮𝗿𝗹𝗼𝘀 𝗱𝗶𝗱𝗻'𝘁 𝘀𝗵𝗼𝘄 𝘂𝗽 𝘁𝗼 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗺𝗲𝗺𝗼𝗿𝗶𝗮𝗹. they don't these people, much less care about them, so he was sure his presence wouldn't matter. but he heard of what happened through the whispers, the names carved onto the memorial that shouldn't have been there. he'll admit it piqued his curiosity, but that was about it. they'd rather spend the rest of their night gorging themself on early rise's croissants. they turn to the sound of mary's voice, shrugging in response, mostly because he was one of those people. he didn't care. “ dunno. i'm not a mind reader, ” they answer. but they wouldn't doubt it, everything seemed so mundane despite the murders that plagued the town, not to mention the fact that everyone seems to have forgotten about the missing girl. in a gruesome way, it seems like they've all gotten used to it, a twisted routine that everyone's adapted to. “ do you? give a damn? ”
𝙽𝙰𝚃𝙷𝙰𝙽 𝚃𝙰𝙻𝙱𝙾𝚃 𝚆𝙰𝚂 𝙼𝙰𝙽𝚈 𝚃𝙷𝙸𝙽𝙶𝚂 — 𝙱𝙻𝙾𝙾𝙳𝚈 wanker right at the top of the list — but one thing cooper couldn’t quite figure out was whether the man had it in him to kill kirby sloane, his own flesh and blood. what was obvious , though , was the fear radiating off him wasn’t for show. nathan was genuinely rattled , and cooper couldn’t help but wonder how the hell he hadn’t called in the king's guard to drag him off by now.
𝙲𝙾𝙾𝙿𝙴𝚁’𝚂 𝙴𝚈𝙴𝚂 𝙻𝙾𝙲𝙺𝙴𝙳 𝙾𝙽𝚃𝙾 𝙽𝙰𝚃𝙷𝙰𝙽’𝚂 , 𝙷𝙸𝚂 grip on the collar tightening just enough to make it clear who was in control here. his expression was hard , unreadable , but there was something else — frustration , maybe even pity. he leaned in , their faces inches apart , the air thick with tension as he spoke , his voice a low rumble , thick with that unmistakable mancunian drawl.
“ 𝚈𝙾𝚄’𝚁𝙴 𝙻𝚈𝙸𝙽’ , 𝙽𝙰𝚃𝙷𝙰𝙽 , ” 𝙲𝙾𝙾𝙿𝙴𝚁 𝚂𝙰𝙸𝙳 , 𝙷𝙸𝚂 words heavy, like they’d been pulled from the very depths of his chest. “ i don’t know what you think i saw … but i see enough to know you’re hidin’ somethin’. you don’t get to play the innocent card with me , not after all this. ” he dug his fingers into nathan's collar one last time , shoving him back with a sharp push. cooper didn’t flinch , didn’t move a muscle , his gaze unyielding as he stepped into the room , boots solid on the ground , curious to see if anyone else was home.
" 𝙸'𝙼 𝙶𝙸𝚅𝙸𝙽' 𝚈𝙾𝚄 𝙰 𝙲𝙷𝙰𝙽𝙲𝙴 𝚃𝙾 𝚃𝙰𝙻𝙺 , 𝙽𝙰𝚃𝙷𝙰𝙽. " cooper’s voice was a little colder now , steely with impatience. " don’t think for a second this is about me bein’ generous. this ain’t about being polite or playin’ nice. this is about you tellin’ me the truth before i lose my patience , and stop pretendin’ you’re anythin’ more than the piece of shite i know you are. ”
𝙲𝙾𝙾𝙿𝙴𝚁 𝙿𝙰𝚄𝚂𝙴𝙳 , 𝙻𝙴𝚃𝚃𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝚂𝙸𝙻𝙴𝙽𝙲𝙴 𝙷𝙰𝙽𝙶 between them , oppressive and thick. the tension was enough to choke the air out of the room , and still , nathan didn’t crack. not yet. cooper’s hand twitched at his side , itching to grab nathan again , to force him to speak. the exhaustion in nathan’s voice hadn’t escaped him , but it didn’t make him feel any softer about the situation. not when there was so much on the line. “ you know , " cooper continued , his voice a low growl , " i’m tryin’ to be reasonable here , give you a chance. but you’ve gotta stop treatin’ me like i’m thick. "
𝙷𝙴 𝚃𝙾𝙾𝙺 𝙰 𝚂𝙻𝙾𝚆 𝚂𝚃𝙴𝙿 𝙵𝙾𝚁𝚆𝙰𝚁𝙳 , eyes narrowing, assessing nathan’s every move. the fragility in his stance , the way his words wavered — it all spoke volumes. and cooper couldn’t get kirby sloane’s face out of his head. was nathan guilty of murder ? maybe. but whatever the hell was goin’ on here , cooper knew it wasn’t just about a woman’s death. it was bigger.
" 𝙸 𝚆𝙰𝙽𝚃 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝚃𝚁𝚄𝚃𝙷 , " 𝙲𝙾𝙾𝙿𝙴𝚁 𝚂𝙰𝙸𝙳 , again , his voice lower now , the tension thick. " tell me everythin’ — because i know you’re hidin’ somethin’. and whatever it is … ” he let the words hang in the air , like a dagger ready to fall. “ you’d better be ready to face it. you might not have killed kirby , but i’ve got a bloody strong feelin’ there’s a hell of a lot more to this than you’re lettin’ on. ” cooper leaned in , his breath hot against nathan’s skin , the distance between them closing like the walls were closing in. " now , " he growled , his voice like gravel , " stop lyin’ to me. what really happened that night ? "
〔 🦂 〕 ... 𝗶𝘁'𝘀 𝗳𝗿𝘂𝘀𝘁𝗿𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗵𝗼𝘄 𝗲𝗮𝘀𝗶𝗹𝘆 𝗰𝗼𝗼𝗽𝗲𝗿 𝗰𝗮𝗻 𝘀𝗲𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗿𝗼𝘂𝗴𝗵 𝗵𝗶𝗺, like a cadaver on a cold stainless steel table, carved open, organs on full display to be studied and dissected. he hates how palpable his fear is, vulnerability dripping off him like blood from an open wound. it's so unlike nathan to be this way, but the pressure of keeping his lips sealed all these years is putting him on the verge of implosion.
jaw clenches as tightly as the grip on his collar, staggering like a ragdoll under control as he's pushed deeper into the living room. nathan knows cooper isn’t stupid, that he can't be bought or manipulated like nathan does with practically half the town. and he knows cooper won't leave unless he gets an answer, a real answer, one that he can't provide unless he knows he can be trusted.
nathan remains silent, refusing to utter a single word before he has the chance to get his thoughts in order. cooper had seen everything, there's no worming his way out of it. he'll give it to him, at least — he's persistent, like a goddam cockroach, with a determination so unrelenting that even nathan himself wants to see if all his jabbing is enough to make him break. but he cannot allow it, won't allow it. his parents raised him to be many things, but weak wasn't one of them.
feet drag along the hardwood floor as he stumbles out of cooper's grip, hands reaching up to smooth down his collar where it had been wrinkled. “ i am telling the truth, ” nathan says, so thoroughly exhausted with cooper's refusal to believe him. it normally isn't this difficult for him to convince anyone, but in this case, cooper isn't just anyone. “ is that not enough for you, or are you just waiting for something you want to hear? some kind of gotcha moment? ”
despite his slowly repleting confidence, he takes another step back, brows furrowing as he tries to decipher cooper's true intentions, if he really wants the truth or if there's something else at play. looking at him now, he sees not the angry man that stands before him, but the man who caught him at somehow the most auspicious time, as if he strutted in right on cue. realization dawns on nathan like a flash of lightning.
another bout of silence lingers in the tension and all its density, like a bomb could set off if he doesn't choose his next words with a diffuser's precision. “ i'm being set up, ” he admits, finally, a confession that up until that point he'd only said aloud to charlotte — and here he is now, telling man he's not sure he can trust. “ and i had no idea who was behind it, but now i'm thinking ... ”
gaze falls back on cooper, this time more stoic, more encroaching as he steps forward, no longer backed into a corner, but standing interrogatively. “ what business did you have being in town hall at such an ungodly hour anyway? ” he's got his hand back on the wheel, he can't afford to let go now. “ because it's a bit of a coincidence, isn't it? that you managed to walk in on me at an opportune moment? ” almost like you'd been waiting.
savannah was too also struggling to wrap her head around the most recent happenings of their small town. performance nights with the band at redstone bar were supposed to be the highlight of her week, but she felt like she performed at half her typical momentum. everyone was on edge, even if they didn’t want to admit it.
“no, I wouldn’t blame you. i am kind of shocked we got the turn out we did tonight,” she sighs, taking a small sip of her beer that she has just ordered. “the dating pool might be like a small pond here, so your theory doesn’t sound half bad,” she added on. “i ghosted one or two people in the last few months, fingers crossed this isn’t some freaky sign or pattern?”
〔 🦢 〕 ... 𝗮𝗻 𝗲𝘅𝗮𝘀𝗽𝗲𝗿𝗮𝘁𝗲𝗱 𝘀𝗶𝗴𝗵 𝗹𝗲𝗮𝘃𝗲𝘀 𝗷𝗼𝘀𝗶𝗲'𝘀 𝗹𝗶𝗽𝘀, looking around the crowded bar in bewilderment. alcohol is already flowing through the bloodstream of multiple patrons, one group in the corner hollering and howling and exhibiting behavior likely more appropriate for the warehouse. but she can't blame them when she's flagging the bartender down for another shot; anything to help her pretend that everything is okay and the whole town isn't falling apart all around her. “ let's get one thing straight, though — it's gotta be a man, right? like, for sure, ” josie theorizes. “ this is total mysoginist behavior — oh god, i dated a traditionalist weirdo once, what if it's him? i mean, he moved to canada a year ago, but you never know. ”
THE PROTEST CAUSED A smug grin creased bash's features. he didn't mind getting on people's nerves, it was quite the talent, really. plus, it was relatively harmless with josie, not like he was going to start a bar fight with her. that was improvement on his part. in fact, he silently rewarded himself by choosing light banter over throwing some fists at some bloke over most likely nonsense. ❝ if you want an excuse to shower with me , you could just say so , ❞ he reconciled with a slight cheers motion upward with his drink before he met the cup with his lips
〔 🦢 〕 ... “ 𝗼𝗵, 𝘀𝗵𝘂𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗳𝘂𝗰𝗸 𝘂𝗽, ” josie exclaims, every word dripping with disdain and disapproval. she didn't exactly have a reputation for being difficult to provoke, but bash always knew exactly where and how to push her buttons. she takes a sip of her drink, shooting daggers at the man through her glass with enough vitriol to probably kill him twice ( and if she were a worse person she would, cover it all up with help from her daddy — could blame it on the boogeyman too. ) “ you literally disgust me. dis-gust. ”
She clung to him like her hands were the only thing holding him together, like he might dissolve into ash if she loosened her grip. She was desperate to keep him upright, to keep him close, and yet, as they crossed the doorway into the guest room, she had to work to smother the feeling that he was intruding on her space. It was sickening- that even now, covered in blood and teetering off the edge of a cliff, she struggled to let her husband see any part of her private self. Her grip loosened as he moved in front of her, but she maintained contact, right hand clutching the stiff wool of his sweater, left hand cradled under his arm and gripping his elbow. There’s a long stretch of silence as she processes his words. Briefly, the worst-case scenario crosses her mind- but then she meets his eyes, and the thought is dismissed as quickly as it arrived. He may not be an innocent man, and he may not even be a good man, but she is sure of this: Nathan is not a killer.
“Tell me everything.” Her words were firm, and projected a version of herself that was far stronger than she felt. “I won’t tell anyone, but you have to tell me everything.” She let go of his sweater, reaching up to cup his face, to offer him some kind of comfort. "Whatever it is, we'll get through it. Together."
〔 🦂 〕 ... 𝘄𝗲'𝗹𝗹 𝗴𝗲𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗿𝗼𝘂𝗴𝗵 𝗶𝘁 𝘁𝗼𝗴𝗲𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿. words that do little to slow his sprinting heartbeat, the image of his dead niece still so fresh in his mind. but he knows, just by looking into charlotte's eyes, that despite everything that they've been through — the fights, the frigidness, the physical and emotional distance between them — he could still trust her, that no matter what, she was always going to be on his side. right here, right now, the wedge between them didn't exist. they were always going to be nathan and charlotte, the way he vowed it over two decades ago. for better or for worse, til death do us part. “ someone wants to frame me, ” nathan finally says, voice barely above a whisper. he tells her everything, from the murder board to the bloodied money, how he'd been caught by cooper and how he rid himself from the evidence that could incriminate him. everything, as she asked him, because if he had everything to lose, he might as well admit it to the only person he trusts. “ and i saw ... i saw ... ” he swallows the lump in his throat, tears welling up at the thought of the one thing he still hasn't said. “ i saw kirby's body lying there. i ... i was too late, char. she's dead. ”