Gunner smiled softly when Wyatt insisted that animals were better at reading people than humans were. But there was a tiny shrug when Wyatt praised Rafe. "He really doesn't like when you compliment him..." Gunner said in a soft voice, sighing. "I wish he wasn't so grumpy."
Taking one last glance at the horse, Gunner waved before walking alongside Wyatt. "Skipper needs a brother! Not replaced. A brother..." He gave a very bold and confident nod. "We can come back and visit him." he agreed, settling that maybe visiting would be just as acceptable as living with.
Wyatt nodded slightly when Gunner explained that Rafe didn't like him when he complimented him. He gave Gunner a small smile. "Don't worry. He doesn't trust me yet but I'm not giving up. I'll win him over." He smiled, watching as he waved goodbye to the horse.
He laughed softly. "Well, Skipper might like a brother but I don't know if I have time for another pet, especially one that won't really fit in the house." He pointed out. He smiled when he agreed that visiting him would be okay. "Have you ridden a horse before?"
She loved how he talked. How he thought. He saw the world so beautifully. A way she hadn't in so long and she felt as if it gave her world life and color. She felt warmth filling her when she was with him. She hadn't felt this in almost two decades and she was scared how fast she fell fearful that if it fell apart it would hurt just as much. "Perhaps I should have kissed you. Would that have removed any doubt of my intentions." she teased softly. "Well yes your charm and bone structure are magnificent but I've had good looking men hit on me before. But no it's how you were so open to the just being yourself. You weren't putting on some act just enjoying yourself and it made me enjoy your company even more." She told him. "And I doubt you could be insufferable. Or are you some preening peacock and I've just missed that side of you."
Atlas let out a small laugh at that. “Gia,” he said, shaking his head slightly, “if your solution to my uncertainty was to kiss me, then I have to say your conflict-resolution strategies are significantly bolder than mine.” He smiled softly. "Though it would certainly be nice to be kissed by you." When she explained what she meant by different, however, his expression softened. “That's one of the nicest things anyone's ever said to me.” His thumb traced absentmindedly along the side of his glass. “I spent a lot of years feeling like the odd one out in a room. Eventually you get tired of performing normalcy for people. Being yourself becomes less exhausting.” His eyes met hers again. “So I'm glad you like the real me.” He studied her for a minute. “Can I tell you something? When you first started talking to me, I assumed you were being friendly because that's who you are. You have this way of making people feel welcome. Seen. It never occurred to me that someone might choose to do it specifically for me.” He looked up as the server approached, giving a glance toward the menu, clearing his throat. "Do you know what you're going to order?"
Valerie felt nervous. More than she ever had before to be up on the stage. She half wondered if she deserved to be here or if she was up on this stage because Greyson wanted her to be. She appreciated him if that was it but it made her even more worried that she'd make a fool of herself. Still she made sure her guitar was tuned before stepping on the stage and the minutes the lights hit her every lick of fear melted off. She smiled as she started playing a couple songs she'd written on her own that she hadn't sold to make sure the power or water stayed on. Ending her set with a love song she'd just written about a certain blonde haired boy that made her so giddy she couldn't breath most days.
She was stunned at the applause and smiled giving a bow her cheeks heating up and a smile on her face as she heard Greyson. Looking up she caught eyes with him and while it looked like it could be to anyone she blew a kiss to him. "Thank ya'll and have a great night." she said getting off the stage wanting to run straight down to Greyson. She was so excited and she just wanted to share it with him as she put her guitar in it's case leaving it safely backstage as she rushed out looking for him. "Greyson Harper you better not'a run off." she mumbled to herself
Greyson hadn't moved. Partly because he wanted to be the first person she found when she came off that stage. Partly because the drug had settled into his bones and made standing there feel easier than doing anything else. He leaned against the fence as people filtered away from the crowd, still grinning like an idiot. The second Val appeared from backstage, scanning the crowd, his face lit up. "There she is." He pushed away from the fence and started toward her. "Hey, superstar." The grin on his face was impossible to hide. When she reached him, he immediately hooked an arm around her waist and pulled her in. "You were incredible." Greyson bent down long enough to press a kiss against her forehead before pulling back to look at her. "No, seriously." He shook his head. "I mean it."
He brushed a piece of hair back off her cheek, tucking it behind her ear. "You get up there actin' all nervous beforehand and then suddenly you're out there makin' everybody else look stupid." He smirked slightly, shaking his head. "I thought old Mrs. Jenkins was gonna throw her bra on stage during that last song." His thumb brushed absentmindedly against her side. "That one at the end..." His smile softened. "That was new." A pang of guilt flashed across him as she looked up at him like he was worth writing songs about while he was standing here high as hell and pretending everything was fine. His jaw flexed briefly before the smile returned."You're gonna make it real hard for me to keep my ego under control, Moore." He leaned closer and lowered his voice conspiratorially. "Though I do think yellin' 'that's my girl' in front of half the county was a pretty fair trade." He flashed her a crooked grin. "So I reckon we're even."
Brant leaned into his hand and Scott sighed softly as his heart fluttered gently. Obviously he wished Brant wasn't feeling this way, wished at the very least that he could switch places with his husband, but even after all this time these small tender moments still got him sometimes. Still meant the world to him. Just a few years ago Scott had accepted that he would only be to share moments like this with Brant in his dreams. Even now, this was only possible because Brant had been brave enough to take a leap of faith and pack up his life and travel to tiny little Cypress Cove based on a connection the two of them had shared. Scott was beyond grateful that he had and while he knew he didn't have to, he would spend the rest of his life trying to prove to Brant in little ways, in small gestures like this that he had made the right choice. Scott noticed the way Brant's eyes began to close softly at the touch and began to rub the side of Brant's face gently with his thumb. "Okay, I guess that's not too long." He said.
"What good boys." Scott cooed encouragingly as he used his free hand to reach over and scratch each of their heads affectionately. "Good. It's nice to know someone's here to make sure you don't push yourself when I'm not around." He teased gently. Obviously Brant was in no condition to do anything other than lay on the couch and rest but Scott knew him well enough to know that that wouldn't stop him from trying. Especially the instant he started feeling even a little bit better. "Making sure you're taken care of. Especially when you're sick is always a rush home from work situation." Scott insisted gently. "Reid would've let me come home early." He murmured softly.
Scott frowned at the way Brant pouted. "It's okay babe. Once you're feeling better I'll take you out for a nice dinner." He promised "Or I could make you something special. Anything you wanted." Scott offered. "Yeah I can do that." He said reaching over to gently caress Brant's cheek again. "Just sitting with you is always my favorite way to spend the day." Scott uttered affectionately.
Brant's expression softened immediately. It always got him a little, hearing things like that from Scott. Maybe because Scott never seemed to realize how devastatingly sincere he was when he said them. "You're ridiculous," Brant murmured, though there wasn't much conviction behind it. His hand found Scott's wrist, fingers curling loosely around it as he kept Scott's hand against his cheek. The cool touch felt nice. Everything felt a little too warm and a little too uncomfortable right now. "You know most people would've heard 'stomach bug' and maintained a safer distance. Instead you're over here tellin' me you would've left work early and that sittin' on the couch with me while I look like death is your ideal afternoon."
He shifted slightly beneath Astro's weight and immediately regretted it as another wave of nausea hit him. His thumb brushed absentmindedly over Scott's wrist. "I don't deserve you sometimes, you know that?" The words came quietly, without his usual humor to hide behind them. For a moment he simply looked at him. "I love you." He murmured softly.
He looked at Scott as he mentioned taking him out. "The worst part is I can't even properly appreciate the dinner bribery right now." He sighed dramatically. "Do you understand how serious this is? I don't even want cinnamon buns." He let out a small groan. "I think medically that means I'm dying."
Thaddeus’ brain stalled as he tried to process what was being asked of him. He couldn’t imagine Hayes would want to spend an entire day with him, but then he realized that was exactly what he was saying. He nodded slowly as he answered. He did really want to spend more time with him. Maybe it was time to branch out, make more friends, actually remember to live.
“The ranch?” Thaddeus asked, looking slightly confused. “I am from alligators and swamps. Voodoo shops and jazz. I cannot say I’ve ever been really on a ranch, or around… horses…” He confessed with a small little blush. He had always wanted to ride a horse, but he had never gotten on one. He had always just poked his head through fences and gave tiny little pets here and there. That was until his brother had gotten him bit that one time. Then he had stuck to his books and kept a good distance from the horses.
Hayes nodded when Thaddeus questioned the ranch. "Well, if you're going to be spending time with me, you're going to have to meet Grover. It would be unfair of me to spend thirty five hours with you and not see him at all." He pointed out like this was obvious.
He smirked slightly, leaning into Thad. "Grover is my horse. He's a sweetheart I'm sure you'll get on. Plus it will be nice to go for a ride with you. I'd like to have an excuse to wrap my arms around you..." he admitted.
When Aurora said his name, Wren pretended to flinch. His lips twitched into a smirk and he offered a small shrug. "I don't watch romance films. Titanic is not a romance film. It is a historical depiction... of two people, one of which did not love the man enough to move over and let him on the bloody door..." The straight face couldn't stand any longer. He immediately burst into laughter, giving an innocent little shrug. "What I mean to say is... I absolutely watch romance films. And Leonardo DiCaprio is a pretty fine specimen... as is Kate Winslet." As soon as he said it, Wren blushed. He didn't usually tell people he had only known for under a hour that he was bisexual, but Aurora seemed easy to talk to and judgment free.
At the suggestion that sugar cubes weren't British, Wren had to pause and consider this for a moment. "I suppose you can have a point of accuracy there..." he teased her, turning to grab the plate out of the microwave when the timer went off. He then replaced it with the second plate and held out the first toward her. "So... can I sprout off historical details if I do care...?" he teased her, smirking.
Aurora accepted the plate from him with a quiet thank you, balancing it carefully in one hand while the other settled against the warm ceramic of her tea mug. The confession about Leonardo DiCaprio and Kate Winslet immediately drew a laugh from her. His blush only made her smile wider. “You're absolutely right.” She pointed at him lightly with her fork. “Leonardo DiCaprio in Titanic? Beautiful. Kate Winslet in Titanic?” She pressed a hand briefly against her chest. “Life-changing.” She shook her head. “Honestly, that movie and The Mummy did more for bisexual awareness than most public service campaigns.”
She settled back onto the couch, taking a small bite before continuing. “And yes,” she said, gesturing vaguely with her fork. “You may absolutely sprout historical details if you care. That's different.” Her expression turned mock-serious. “The rule is specifically against pretending you don't care while secretly carrying around seventeen facts, three documentaries, and a personal grudge against maritime safety regulations.” She studied him for a second.“Which, judging by your defense of Jack Dawson, may already be a lost cause.” She let out a small laugh before she took another bite. “Though I will say, I've never understood how that's the debate everyone settled on. Thousands of people in the water and somehow we've spent nearly thirty years arguing about the dimensions of a floating piece of wood.”
She leaned in the doorway watching the two lovingly. Her heart filled so much before she walked in with a small plate of pizza cut into small bits and setting it on the coffee table before quickly disinfecting the feeding tray on the walker and placing the pizza on it. "Now I know you're going to be heartbroken to be taken from him but you need to eat sweetheart.." she said. She looked at Beckett. "Oh she hates when you put her down or when you leave at night." she said almost teasingly.
Beckett smiled down at Tara as he bounced her in his arms. "Ooh, look baby girl. Mama brought your pizza!" He carried her over to the walker, placing her down inside it. He looked at her when she mentioned that she acts heartbroken. "I hate her leaving her too." He admitted before moving his knuckles to run over her arm. "I hate leaving both of you." He said softly.
Voodoo Lanes was running a bit short staffed tonight, but honestly it wasn't too busy. So Thaddeus had done some basic inventory, did some paperwork in his office, and then wandered over to an empty bowling lane. There were some teenagers playing at the opposite end of him, but he didn't mind. He just liked keeping close proximity. Teenage boys could be reckless. He wanted to make sure nobody tried to follow a ball into the pins.
He had just finished bowling the ball when he turned to grab a drink. That was when he noticed Nico. He smiled softly at him and lifted up a hand to wave at him. Nico looked sad, but honestly it was hard to tell beneath the neons and the strobes. His brow furrowed and he moved to take a second drink before placing his glass back on the table.
Then the question came. Quickly, no bullshit. Thaddeus chuckled a bit, stepping back over to the ball return to grab his next ball. "Glitter and despair... I do like glitter, but not despair." He announced, angling his body half toward the pins and half toward Nico. "Do you want to be a bartender, a DJ, or an event coordinator? I don't know how often I need an event coordinator, but maybe we could come up with something. This place could really start popping if you plan us some events."
Nico tried to laugh, giving him a nod. "See? That's exactly the kind of attitude I'm looking for. Glitter. No despair." He pointed briefly at Thaddeus like he'd made a compelling business argument. "You're already a better manager than my last employer." The joke landed with a small grin before fading around the edges. He watched Thaddeus pick up the bowling ball, grateful for the fact that he wasn't immediately asking if everything was okay. Nico wasn't entirely sure he could survive that question right now. "Honestly?" he said, rocking back on his heels. "I can do all three." His hands slipped deeper into his jacket pockets. "I... was coordinating events for the country club. Weddings, charity stuff, holiday parties, rich people finding increasingly creative ways to spend money." His mouth twitched. "And Mardi Gras didn't completely explode, so that's got to count for something." The mention of the festival brought a small spark of genuine warmth. Working with Thaddeus had actually been fun. Which felt rare lately.
"But bartending?" he continued. "I can learn. DJing..." He tilted his head thoughtfully. "Depends. Are we talking actual DJing or pressing play on a playlist and pretending I'm responsible for the vibes? Because one of those is significantly easier." His gaze drifted briefly toward the lanes. The crash of pins echoed somewhere nearby. "Truthfully, I'm not even looking for anything fancy." His voice softened. "I just figured it might be smart to have a plan." Nico cleared his throat. "Also," he added, forcing some brightness back into his tone, "if you hire me, I can personally guarantee at least three extremely themed bowling nights a month." A grin finally pulled at his mouth. "I'm talking questionable decorations. Costumes. Weird signature cocktails. The kind of events people attend and then spend six months asking themselves why they had so much fun." He glanced back toward Thaddeus. "And if that doesn't convince you, it's my birthday."
Bastille chuckled a bit, putting a hand on his chest and pretending to look surprised. "I'm a music teacher? Really?" he teased her a bit. He could feel the warmth of her arm against his, but he didn't pull away. It was nice. He liked it. He gave a small nod. "I am sound and hearing. You are vision and seeing..." he agreed with her.
When she mentioned he was either very impressive or very annoying, Bastille chuckled. The laugh though vibrated his chest enough to cause him to begin to cough yet again and he made a bit of a face, reaching for his coffee to take a sip. He looked over at her when she mentioned his problem. He smirked a bit. "We do make a fully functioning creative professional... and an absolutely fantastic team. I couldn't imagine putting together these recitals without you..."
Mariposa's smile turned into a frown as his laugh dissolved into another coughing fit. "There it is again," she murmured, frowning slightly. "You're definitely getting sick." Without really thinking about it, she reached up and pressed the back of her hand against his forehead. "...You know, that would've worked better if I wasn't always cold." A small laugh escaped her as she pulled her hand back, though her concern lingered. "How long have you been feeling like this?"
Then his other comment caught up with her. Her gaze dropped briefly to the phone still sitting in her lap before she looked back at him. "Yeah?" she asked softly. For a moment she just studied him, sitting there on the auditorium floor surrounded by schedules and coffee. "Good," she said, nudging his shoulder lightly with hers. "Because I'd be incredibly offended if you replaced me." The joke landed easily enough, but there was something honest underneath it. "I couldn't imagine doing them without you either, Bastille."
Keya laughed and shook her head. "I would never try to abuse my power to sway you or insider trade..." she teased him, folding her arms on the table and leaning into the edge of it. She chewed on her bottom lip, watching him close the menu and nodded when he said he would absolutely order both. "Also, it will not be a poor financial decision, because sitting with the owner does get you some perks..." she teased a bit, giving him a playful wink. "Sea turtles are very judgmental so I can see why you would not want them to know about your cannabilism."
Talking about Hawaii made her dreamy. She missed it, but not for the reasons most people thought she would. They all had an image that Hawaii was perfect, but it was just like anywhere. It had its problems, its drama. She missed the people, but even those people hadn't been as hard to let go as Lakota when he left. "Lakota probably does not see it your way. He probably sees it as suffocating. Big sister slash mom figure stalking him..." She laughed. She nodded. "Definitely less volcanoes and yes... the football obsession is insane. I prefer surfing myself. What about you? Have you been here your whole life?"
Brooks laughed, shaking his head as she tried to claim she wasn't abusing her power. "That's exactly what someone abusing their power would say." The playful wink nearly derailed his train of thought entirely, but he managed to recover enough to point a finger at her. "And now you're offering perks? This is getting ethically questionable." He couldn't help but smile. "Not that I'm complaining." The sea turtle comment got an even bigger laugh out of him. "See, this is why they judge me. They know." He lowered his voice conspiratorially. "You ever look into a sea turtle's eyes? They've got the expression of somebody who's already read your internet search history."
Brooks settled back in his chair, his smile softening as she talked about Lakota. "For what it's worth, I don't think crossing an ocean because you love somebody qualifies as stalking. I think most people spend their whole lives hoping somebody cares that much." He shrugged slightly. "And besides, he seems pretty happy you're here." When she asked about him, he glanced toward the rain-streaked windows for a moment before looking back at her. "I grew up in a small town north of Tallahassee." The corner of his mouth lifted. "My sister and I were constantly outside. My parents both worked a lot, so whenever storms rolled in we'd build these ridiculous blanket forts and pretend we were surviving some great natural disaster." He chuckled softly. "Looking back, we were basically hiding in a living room eating snacks." His fingers tapped lightly against his water glass. "Then we both came here.. she had a son. I help raise him." He looked at her, giving her a small smile. "I never got into football, though saying that around here can be dangerous." Then his eyes brightened with curiosity. "You surf, though?" he asked. "Like, actually surf? Because I've always thought it looked incredible."
Arachne felt a million different waves of emotions. She was not at all ashamed of being trans. She was very proud of herself and existing in the body she was given, but not in a public way. This was feeling too public. This was too much of a reminder that 'Adrian' had been a boy first. She felt a wave of nausea and she shook her head. She wanted to talk. She wanted to interrupt and tell her dad that she would think about saying something to him later, but the words wouldn't come out. The mention of being pushed out and thrown away only made her head spin worse. She opened her mouth to say something, but then realized that she wasn't even breathing. The panic took too much control. She squeezed Zay's hand as everything began to spin wildly. She swayed. Fuck, this was not the time to faint. She closed her eyes tight, forcing a breath through her nose and slowly out through her mouth.
Tobias' heart sunk when Arachne seemed to be shutting him out, but his sadness was pretty short lived. Her boyfriend, or whoever this might of been, was really starting to annoy him. He held out his hand, forcing a gap between him and Zay. "I need you to stop. This is between her and me. Not you. I understand you want to protect her, but that is what I want too. I am here, I am trying to make amends and shutting me out is unhelpful to both of us..." Tobias insisted, looking past Zay toward Arachne. "Have coffee with me. Public place. Neutral place. Maybe bring Lennon. We can talk. It will be good..." he insisted, but then he noticed that he wasn't talking to her anymore. He was specifically talking at her. He had seen this fainting game plenty of times when she still lived at home. Helena often insisted that it was attention seeking, a way to stop being yelled at. He frowned. He wasn't yelling at her. "Adr- Arachne...?"
The second Zay felt Arachne sway, the entire conversation stopped mattering. His hand immediately moved from hers to her waist, steadying her before she could lose her footing. The anger that had been directed at Tobias a second ago vanished beneath something far more immediate. "Hey. Hey, baby, look at me." One hand remained firm at her side while the other came up to her shoulder. "Breathe. Nice and slow." Only when Tobias spoke again did Zay's eyes move from hers. His hand rubbed gently along Arachne's back. "If you actually want to make amends, then start by paying attention to what's happening right in front of you." His eyes locked onto Tobias's. "Because right now your daughter looks sick."
Zion smiled and laughed. “Lemonade is pretty sticky, especially fair lemonade since it’s like a cup of sugar.” He found it very endearing that she genuinely seemed concerned about whether or not he was covered in lemonade. Most would just half say excuse me and walk away. She was sweet.
When she followed his gaze to the horse, Zion couldn’t help but smile and nodded. “Yeah… it was just so beautiful the way he flicked his little head…” His brow furrowed a bit. The fact that he used the word ‘little’ to refer to a horse was probably amusing. “No, no, it doesn’t sound creepy at all. It sounds very, very realistic. It’s easy to get distracted and forget the rest of the world is around you. I do it quite often.”
As she offered him a piece of the funnel cake, Zion laughed a bit. He reached out to tear a small piece off the edge. “Thank you, Brontë. I really appreciate it. I’m Zion.”
Brontë smiled before she could stop herself. “His little head?” she repeated, amusement slipping into her voice. She glanced back toward the arena where the horse was currently towering over its rider. “That might be the largest animal here." Still, she understood exactly what he meant. Her gaze lingered on the horse for another moment. “They do have a way of knowing when someone’s looking at them, though,” she said. “Like they’re fully aware they're the main character.”
She looked back at him as he took a piece of the funnel cake, relieved that he actually accepted it instead of politely refusing. “Nice to meet you, Zion.” The name felt familiar for a second, tugging at something in the back of her mind. Then it clicked. “Wait.” Her eyebrows lifted slightly. “Zion as in the Cypress Beacon Zion?” Her expression immediately turned apologetic. “That sounded way more ominous than I intended. I just mean I know your name. Harbour Books gets copies of the Beacon every week, and I think I've seen your byline enough times that my brain made the connection.”
MALE, HE/HIM. Hey, is that Nicholas Galitzine? No, that is just Tucker Rothchild around Cypress Cove. I heard they are 26 years old, and their birthday is September 16, 1999. They rest their head in the Westside but can mainly be found working at the Cypress Grand Theater. Some say they are charming, dependable, and protective but can be overprotective, stubborn, and avoidant. If they had a theme song, it would be Northern Attitude by Noah Kahan & Hozier. I hear they are a NEWCOMER, either way Cypress Cove is home and welcomes you!
theme song: Northern Attitude by Noah Kahan & Hozier
PHYSICAL APPEARANCE:
face claim: Nicholas Galitzine
hair color: Dark Brown
eye color: Brown
height: 6'1"
weight: 190 lbs
build: Athletic
tattoos: A few, mostly hidden
piercings: None
FAMILY:
mother: Linda "Celeste" Rothchild (née Cox)
father: Michael Rothchild (deceased)
siblings: Two younger siblings
children: None
pet(s): None
BIOGRAPHY:
Tucker Rothchild grew up in a world where most doors opened before he ever had to knock. As the eldest child of Michael and Celeste Rothchild, he was raised in comfort, privilege, and the kind of financial security most people only read about. His childhood was filled with private lessons, family vacations, and every opportunity money could provide. But for all the advantages he had, the thing Tucker valued most was never the Rothchild name. It was his family.
His parents built a home filled with stability, warmth, and genuine affection. Michael was the kind of father who showed up for everything, and Tucker spent most of his life wanting to be exactly like him. As the oldest sibling, he naturally slipped into the role of protector. He was the one helping with homework, breaking up arguments, and making sure everyone got home safely. Responsibility came easily to him. Maybe a little too easily.
When his father suffered a sudden aneurysm, Tucker's world shifted overnight. Watching the strongest person he knew disappear piece by piece was devastating. Watching his mother lose her best friend was somehow worse. The months that followed were filled with grief, uncertainty, and the painful realization that life could change without warning. When Celeste made the decision to leave their old life behind and return to Cypress Cove, Tucker didn't hesitate. He packed up his own life and followed her. Officially, he told everyone it was temporary. Unofficially, he couldn't stand the idea of his mother facing everything alone.
The diagnosis of Multiple Sclerosis only reinforced that decision. While Celeste insists she is perfectly capable of taking care of herself, Tucker has made it his personal mission to be nearby if she ever needs him. Sometimes that means helping around the house. Sometimes it means driving her to appointments. Most of the time it means hovering far more than she would like.
Despite inheriting enough money from his father's estate to never work a day in his life, Tucker quickly discovered that sitting around a house all day was its own kind of torture. Looking for something to keep himself busy, he picked up a job at the Cypress Grand Theater. Most people assume he's working there because he needs the paycheck. The truth is he enjoys it. He likes the movies, the people, and having somewhere to be. It gives him a routine. A purpose. A chance to build a life that belongs to him instead of simply orbiting everyone else's.
Now, for the first time in his life, Tucker finds himself somewhere entirely new. Cypress Cove isn't the town he grew up in. It's his mother's hometown. His aunt's hometown. A place filled with stories and history that existed long before he arrived. For perhaps the first time ever, nobody knows exactly who he is. And while he'd never admit it out loud, he's starting to think that might be exactly what he needs.
Sylas chuckled a bit, imagining a tiny little Maeve demanding the carnival and making her desires everyone’s problem. “It makes me think of that one TikTok… Are you going to be a problem today? I’m going to be the whole problem…” He smirked. He wondered if Maeve was here. If she had liked the carnival that much… maybe they should have invited her. Maybe Lucky would have invited her since he was an accomplice. “You both were too old and too cool for the carnival.” He gave Fionn a playful little nudge.
“Ew, a frog…?” Sylas considered this for a moment and nodded. “Yes, definitely would have to go be Seth’s… in his pool house or in his bedroom, I don’t care. Just not our room.” He ran his hand along Fionn’s ass from inside his pocket, smirking a bit. “Good…” He said in a sing-song voice, tugging him toward the line. He wanted to kiss Fionn at the top. It seemed romantic even if it was cliche.
When Fionn mentioned Arachne, Sylas looked over at him. “What about her…?” His lips twitched into something between anger and a frown. He let out a deep sigh. “That fucker…” he murmured under his breath. He shrugged. “I don’t think you have to worry about anything, but if he starts trying to put bans on things in Cypress Cove… then yes, we need to put a stop to him extremely fast.” He didn’t use the word ‘transgender’, but it was sort of implied. He remembered how crushed Arachne had been when she had come to officially move in with Ruth and him. He had been so mad.
Fionn let out a small laugh. “Being the only girl she really wrapped us around her finger.” He agreed, looking out towards the crowd. “I wonder who she dragged out to come with her this time.” He mused. “Da isn’t really a spring chicken anymore. Not that I would say that to his face..”
Fionn's jaw tightened slightly at the look on Sylas's face. That alone told him more than the actual answer did. "Right," he said quietly. The line shuffled forward a few feet and he moved with it automatically, his attention remaining on Sylas. "I don't particularly care what people choose to do with their own lives," he said evenly. "Never have. But I get very interested when someone starts deciding what everybody else is allowed to do with theirs."
His hand found the back of Sylas's neck briefly, thumb brushing there. "Arachne is family. If somebody starts making her life harder for the sake of a campaign slogan or a headline, then they stop being a political problem and start being my problem." The corner of his mouth twitched slightly. "Though I'd prefer if the solution didn't involve you committing a felony before consulting me first." He glanced sideways at Sylas. “At least give me the opportunity to help plan it." He gave him a small wink just as the Ferris wheel attendant waved them forward toward an open gondola. "Now come on. You've got a very important cliché to fulfill at the top of this thing."
As soon as Maia said he couldn't stand there and watch kids, Reid immediately laughed. "Excuse me, I was not watching the kids. I was watching you..." he insisted as she ushered him toward the metal folding chair.
He flopped down in front of her. "Also, I'm a football coach. I know half of these moms..." he chuckled a bit, sticking his arm out toward her. "I don't really want paint on my face, but I will let you draw on my arm, or my chest, or my back... just not the face.
Maia blushed when he said he’d been watching her. She knew he probably meant it just because she was painting and not in a way that he wanted to watch her. But he was very attractive and she had eyes. Though she was pretty sure all of her senses knew he was attractive. Great.. now she was thinking about touching him. The blush on her face only grew.
“I’m sure you do.” The words slipped out before she fully realized what she was saying and she let out a small laugh. “Sorry.. that was.. inappropriate.” She looked at his arm before he offered chest or back. If she was given the opportunity, she’d be crazy not to take it. “Alright, shirt off then.”
The answer to the question that Lucky never asked was yes. Saoirse took Lucky leaving them very, very personally. She pretended that it didn't bother her that Lucky didn't call, or want anything to do with them. She went about her day. She called Colm and Fionn. She occasionally called Lucky with a burner phone that he couldn't track the number. She just needed to hear his voice and then she always hung up, but sometimes people didn't answer blocked numbers. She sometimes forgot that Cypress Cove was not that big of a town and that Lucky was less than 10 miles from her.
When she waved, she was pretty confident he would glare and duck the other way. But he did the unexpected. He approached. He waved. He said 'hi'. The word mum hitting her like a knife in the heart. Her baby... "Maeve took your father off somewhere... Of course, traditions mean so much to her even more after the loss of her memory." She knew that Lucky didn't need her to tell him that. She knew that Maeve talked to Lucky often because Maeve told her all about it.
"I'm old and fat, Lucky. You are too generous with your compliments." She looked down. Her left thumb fidgeted with her wedding ring, spinning it around in slow circles - a nervous tick. When he asked to sit, she looked over at the empty seat beside her and nodded. "Of course..." she said in a soft voice slowly lowering herself back down onto the bench. She cleared her throat, looking out at the horses. The silence aching her to the bone, but Lucky was in her orbit and that was enough to allow her just a moment to breathe. She looked over at him after a moment. "Are you having fun tonight...? Did you come... alone?"
Lucky sat down beside her carefully, leaving enough space between them to respect all the years that had passed since the last time he sat next to her. His elbows rested on his knees as he looked out toward the arena. "Maeve would drag God himself out here if she thought he wasn't having enough fun," he said with a small smile. The smile faded a little when she called herself old and fat. "Mum." The word came out automatically. "You are not fat." He shook his head. "And if you're old, then I've got some terrible news about how I just turned forty.”
His gaze dropped briefly to her hands. To the wedding ring she was turning around and around her finger. He remembered that habit. Remembered sitting beside her as a kid while she did the exact same thing when she was worried about something. At her question, he looked back toward the arena. "Yeah. It's been nice." He nodded once. "Luciano came with me. That’s my..boyfriend. We walked around for a bit, ate entirely too much food." The corner of his mouth lifted before he sighed. "Then somebody at the law office called. Apparently the world was ending and only he could save it." He shrugged lightly. "So he had to go in for a few hours."
Lucky's fingers laced together loosely between his knees. For a moment he just watched a rider guide a horse around a barrel. "What about you?" he asked quietly. "Besides getting kidnapped by Maeve. How've you been?"
