conrad b. aldridge

@1coronado

[intheseaofred]

Conrad Blake Aldridge, 28, has called Paloma City, Coronado, home for all of his life. As a mechanic, their world is steeped in trembling fingers reaching out to turn on the light after waking up from a nightmare, clothes permanently ruined by oil stains, and a stray dog baring their teeth to anyone who tries to pet them. Often found smoking a hand-rolled cigarette by the docks while chatting with whoever passes by, they move through life with bloodflood pt II by alt-j in their ear.

Click on this link for a more in depth intro (susceptible to changes at any time), please message me here or on discord for plot purposes!

[intheseaofred]

Late night drama;

LOCATION: Fat Cat TIME & DATE: 30th, August, late at night CLOSED STARTER: @rxdianced

"No, you don't need to text them that's why I took your phone"

[intheseaofred]

LOCATION: who knows yet TIME & DATE: again who knows CLOSED STARTER: @misflung

"What are you doing?"

[blndspots]

she hears him say her name and for a second she thinks it's enough to undo her entirely. there's something steady and something familiar in the sound of it, almost like the company inside hadn't worn her name out and she was hearing it for the first time all night. it nearly pulls the air right out of her lungs. maybe it's the tension of the last hours finally dissipating. maybe it's just him. his compliment lands somewhere she doesn't want to touch and her gaze locks on his with equal parts ease and intensity. "you always did have a way with words," she says lightly, the words laced with humor. she does a little spin even, showing off the low back and throwing him a glance over her shoulder. "you like it?" she's quick to face him again, lips curved into a smile. "thank you." she steps a little closer at his question, a sigh falling from her lips as her hand instinctively reaches for him. it settles on his shoulder, smoothing over a spot like she's trying to iron out a crease in his shirt and not just looking for an excuse to hold on to him. "the night was..." she hums thoughtfully, following the movement of her fingers before she meets his eyes again, "too long. questionable company. even more questionable talking points." she exhales, some of the tension she's been carrying slipping loose now that she's finally standing in front of him. "what about you? how did you end up here?"

[intheseaofred]

He rolls his eyes, but the smile still remains on his lips, face flushed from the teasing, "not all of us are gifted journalist, with the whole world eager to drink in their words" he replies, feeling confident with their bickering until the words are wiped off clean from his mind. His gaze falls down, rests on the curves of her bodies, lingers in the small of her back for more time than he should, tilts his head wondering just how she will look once she steps out of it, before he reminds himself that this shouldn't be his first thought, reminds himself to bring his eyes back to her face - even if that won't exactly help diffuse the thoughts - completely missing her next words.

He steps closer, wishes for her to do the same, even if this isn't the right time or the right place to be doing such a thing. He stares at her lips for a moment, doesn't speak, let's her do her own thing, lightly touching him but not really. "That bad, huh?" it doesn't surprise him exactly, he would never be a part of such events, not as a guest anyways and thus far he had been grateful for that. "Boss got a call, wondering if he had any nice cars available and some employees that wanted to make an extra bit of money - I volunteered" that's the shortest version of it "have regretted doing so like five times after the last couple I drove here" he sighs "these people are fucking weird, Ari" it comes as a whisper, but a very irritated one.

[blndspots]

she releases a shaky breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding, the sound small in the quiet between them. the tension in her shoulders loosens just a fraction at his nod, at the follow-up questions that don't come. he's letting her keep her secrets, gracious as ever, at least for now, and some of the anxiety wound tight in her stomach eases because of it. but the guilt stays, heavy and unyielding, gnawing at her insides like punishment she knows she deserves. her eyes flutter shut, not to avoid him this time but to surrender to the relief of not being forced to explain what she can't yet put into words. when she leans into his touch, it's slight, tentative, as though she's testing whether it's safe to allow herself to lean on him, if she can do so without placing the burden she carries onto him as well. her free hand lifts almost unconsciously, mirroring the earlier motion, fingers curling lightly around his wrist where it rests against her cheek. the uneven texture of her other palm against his skin says what her lips don't and confirm what he's already noted aloud. there's more. "i'm sorry." the words are quiet but unwavering, soft enough they could disappear into the space between them if he weren't so close. when her lashes lift, her gaze catches his, like she needs him to see the truth there, to prove she means it, so he’ll believe it even if she can't give him the rest. she nods in answer to his question about the cuts, though the confirmation does not come out verbally. she doesn't move his hands away. she keeps them there, grounding herself in their steadiness, before leaning forward until her forehead comes to rest lightly against his shoulder. the closeness makes her voice come out even softer, muffled but certain. "i didn't want you to be mad at me." the confession is fragile, laced with remorse, but it carries something else too. exhaustion, maybe, from holding so much alone for so long. it's not an excuse, she knows as much. she shouldn't have lied to him. but it is the honest reasoning he's looking for. a beat passes before she adds, even quieter, "didn't want to make you worry, either." her fingers tighten just faintly around his wrist, the smallest reflex, like she's bracing herself for him to tell her she's failed at both anyway.

[intheseaofred]

He watches her closely - as he often does even if this time it feels different, more attentive, heavier - the truth, some glimpses of the reality that had been hidden from him until now behind short messages and silence begins to peak through in the form of bruises and sad eyes.

It kills him a little, not to know what truly happened or who did this to her. It kills him even more to know that he is unable to fix it all for her or to at least make it a little better. Nothing about the situation feels right to him, it makes his chest hurt, mind begging for answers he knows she is not ready to give him just yet. But, it all fades quickly, forever a victim to her gaze, only finding a little bit of reprieve once she closes her eyes.

"I know," he nods again, he can see just how bad she is feeling and he knows she had the choice to lie to him, to spin some story and yet despite it all she chose to let him in, chose to be truthful in every way that she could. This time he chooses to believe she won't lie to him again, not like this.

And she proves him that he was right to believe her, gives him a nod, confirms his suspicions when it would be easier to just shake her head at him instead. He doesn't hesitate once Ariya makes the first move, his hands slip away, one holds the back of her neck while the other grasps her waist, holding her closer to him.

"I would never be mad, Ari" he speaks softly, just enough for her to hear, his head falling down, crouching a little just to rest his lips on the top of her head, gives her waist a comforting squeeze - more to pacify himself than her, "tough shit, Ari, I'm always going to worry, there's nothing you can do about that" and it sounds rough, but the softness and the feeling remains, this is what friends are supposed to do. Even if friends don't feel things this deeply.

"C'mon on, I've brought you some chicken soup and some of your favorite snacks" that's what he had prepared anyways when he thought she was still just ill "we won't talk of this anymore, but I'm not going to leave you alone until I know you're absolutely okay"

[blndspots]

for a moment, she almost folds under the weight of it — his hand on her chin, the brush of his thumb, the way his voice dips lower without losing its gentleness. it's too much. too grounding. too conrad. her eyes well up immediately. she manages to blink the tears away without letting them fall for the second time since he's entered her apartment. ariya forces a small breath around the lump in her throat, gaze steadying on his like she's willing herself not to falter, yet still not succeeding. because there's a flash. a faint, betraying glimmer in her gaze that speaks to the storm of it all: the ache sitting in her rib cage as her heartbeat spikes, the spiral of guilt threading through her veins. "you make it sound so easy," she murmurs, quieter than she intends. her hand lifts instinctively to catch his wrist, holding him there without really meaning to. if it hadn't been practically reflex, she might have worried that he'd notice the uneven texture of her scraped palm. but alas, she can't seem to think straight when he's this close to her, demanding answers. it's yet another slip up to add to the count. "there's…" but she can't seem to finish. there's what? too much to say. too much to explain. none of it willing to make its way across her lips. "i'm okay," she therefore settles on instead. this lie isn't so much meant to convince him, as it is aimed at convincing herself. "you don't need to worry, okay? i'm here. i'm fine. a few scratches won't kill me." a few. another tally on the list. her voice wavers just slightly, enough to betray her, no matter how practiced her restraint. "conrad," she adds after a moment, softer, almost pleading now. she can't lie to him but the truth weighs on her chest like a ticking bomb ready to explode, threatening to do damage if she allows herself to share. it's too much. too soon. too risky. she can't hand it over, clutching at the invisible weight to keep from it spilling onto him. "can't you just... can't you let it go? just this once?"

[intheseaofred]

His heart breaks easily underneath her gaze. It is not an unfamiliar feeling as he watches the storm that quickly forms in her eyes and for a second he is grateful, probably more than he should be, for her ability to reign it all in before he falls a victim to every emotion threatening to come out of her.

As much as he wishes to be her safe haven whenever the clouds start coming in and the tides get too strong, he has a feeling that maybe she is the fortress after all, one he is still trying to understand, to get to know all over again.

She reaches for him and his breath catches, a wince just barely making its way out of his lips when he feels the touch of her hand - he had dealt with a lifetime of bruises not only on himself but in others, he could recognize that feeling anywhere and yet he doesn't pull away, he pulls her even closer, his other hand making its way to the other side of her face, holding her there - steady. "There's more," he doesn't ask, she has already confirmed it and in that moment it scares him what he would do for her, the limit he promised himself not to cross again suddenly feels within reach - his chest feels tight, the secrets in between them that is not completely aware of weight down on him.

He can't bear the thought of not knowing what happened, of her keeping things from him, of him not knowing who did this to her or what caused her all those injuries, but above everything he can't have her pulling away from him, not because of this. So he compromises, he nods once, a small gesture, even if his jaw is set and even if his eyes are serious and even if his mind is begging him to do the exact opposite. But his mind can't win, not when his heart is so deeply attached to the woman in front of him, begging for him not to ask any more question. "Alright, but don't lie to me again" she can hide all she wants from him, that won't be enough to make him leave, he respects her and he hopes that one day he will be able to make sense of what happened right here. He just can have her lying to him like that again.

He sighs, the pads of his thumbs stroke the skin of her face in a gesture that's more intimate than it should ever be between two friends, something he is not willing to read into too much at this point. "Have you taken care of it properly? Cleaned the cuts?" that's all he can offer now, take whatever she wants to give him.

[blndspots]

⋆ ⁺ ₊ ౨ৎ @intheseaofred. LOCATION: outside isolde by chef josefina's. TIME : as the night of coronado eterna draws to a close.

she barely remembers walking down the front steps. not really. one minute she's inside, running on autopilot, skin prickling with the aftermath of too much performance and too little truth and the next, she's in the thick night air, her heels clicking against the stone path as she exhales for what feels like the first time in hours. her head aches from holding her expression too carefully all evening. her throat feels tight. she just needs a breath. a moment to come up for air. a sign she hasn't lost the plot entirely. and then, like a lighthouse through fog, she sees him. it takes a beat to register: conrad. standing just off the drive near a line of cars, handsome as ever, looking like the first clean inhale after being underwater too long. she's not sure how he ended up here but she doesn't stop to question it. "i'm clocking out," she murmurs under her breath, fingers brushing her jaw as if adjusting an earring. smoothly, she slips the tiny listening device from behind her ear and tucks it into her purse. no final goodnight to leon, just silence. he'll get the message. then she starts walking. no — hurrying. "con!" she calls out, not quite loud enough to carry. her fingers curl tighter around her bag. it's probably a little undignified, the way she rushes toward him, but she doesn't care. for the first time all night, she's not chasing something uncertain. she's heading towards something safe.

[intheseaofred]

It had been a busy night and certainly not a boring one, even if the only thing Conrad had been wishing for all night was to just drive home, get out of his suit and just go to sleep. The amount of conversations he had to overhear, each subject more crazy than the other and each person more out of their mind than the previous one, the things people left in the car, the rudeness and the fake politeness, he was just eager to finish his shift.

The moment he hears her voice it becomes evident that the night is over for him. He had made more than enough money, put up with enough, he could afford to leave earlier. He wanted to leave with her. Even more so after seeing the dress she was in, his breath stops for a second, so far from the image he is used to and yet still not different enough to the point that she stops being the Ariya he knows.

Even if it is evident that they both belong to very different social circles now, that thought doesn't seem to consume his mind just yet. "Ari," he sounds like the breathless one even though she was the one who had to walk towards him "you look -" the color in his faces betrays his thoughts "you look really beautiful" he can't help but tell her the truth, it's a simple but genuine compliment, he had never been the greatest man with words, not like this and not when he feels like his heart wants to jump out of his chest and offer itself at her. "How was the night?"

[blndspots]

the moment she sees him smiling at her, something inside her shifts, like tension breaking under its own weight. relief hits first, fast and staggering, then a flood of everything else: the exhaustion, the fear, the guilt still curdling at the pit of her stomach. her grip tightens on the doorknob without meaning to and the action stings her palms, causing her to let go instinctively. for a second she can't speak, can't move, can only blink too quickly to stop anything from spilling over. it's stupid, she thinks, how one familiar face can make her feel like crying. but it's him and for some reason, that matters more than she wants to admit.

it feels like she's frozen for ages but it can't be more than a long heartbeat. when she finally gathers as much composure as she can muster, she gestures for him to come inside and averts her gaze. if she looks at him for any longer, the emotions in her chest might choose to combust. it's much too hard to turn him away when he's standing right there. any excuse dies at the tip of her tongue. she barely managed to lie to him through text. lying to his face is impossible. "as much as i'd love that, i don't think i should be giving my neighbors front row seats," she says at last, her voice a little rough around the edges like she's still catching up to the moment. the comment is teasing but as she moves aside, she can't quite meet his eyes yet. it's that damn guilt clawing at her, worsened by the sweetness in his features and his actions.

"you shouldn't have gone through the trouble." she forces a smile, hoping it passes as halfway relaxed at least. "what's next? adding nurse to your list of talents? i thought chef was already plenty impressive. people are going to think i'm working you too hard."

[intheseaofred]

Everything seems absolutely normal at first, clouded by the momentary relief he feels just by seeing her standing there in front of him. It started with her absence, then came the short text messages, ultimately there was silence and at last, nothing, which resulted in him going down a spiral of picturing the worst case scenarios before finally giving in and coming to see her.

He walks in, laughs softly at her remark, weight lifting off his shoulders while he has yet to notice the signs that sometimes seems off, busy organizing the things he brought on her kitchen counter and just at ease after noticing that she is alive and well and then it's when he replies, eyes falling on her "it's no trouble, ari, c'mon" he tilts his head, gaze still soft, he hates that she thinks she is bothering him in any way when in fact he just couldn't stay still knowing that she was feeling unwell.

"I would be an awful nurse -" and it's on this sentence that he never gets to finish, when his gaze lingers on her and when his ears finally catch on to the fact that her voice sounds just the tiniest bit different that he starts to look for what is really going on. He doesn't notice it right away, but what he notices immediately is her strange smile and how she is failing to meet his eyes - that's a problem right there, because that's when he knows she is hiding something from him.

His hands lifts, finger catching her chin softly just to raise her head, enough to make her look at him, her temperature seems normal and yet he is frowning still trying to put the pieces together, just in time to see the small cut on her cheek, his thumb brushes it before he can stop himself, stopping himself in time to smother the anger that grows just thinking about what might have happened "do you want to tell me the truth, now?" his voice deepens, but the softness remains, he can never be truly mad at her, and especially not when he still hasn't figured out what happened "keep your eyes on me when you speak" that's how he will know, her eyes have never been able to hide a single thing from him. Her lips can distract him, lie and he will still fall deeper for her, like a sailor crashing his ship and drowning happily when lured in by beautiful voices and sweet words. But her eyes could never do that to him, that's what made him fall in the first place, her eyes will never betray him.

[blndspots]

⋆ ⁺ ₊ ౨ৎ @intheseaofred. LOCATION: classia tower, ariya's apartment. DATE: a few days after the happenings of this night...

ariya is a mess. though she rarely admits it, not even to herself and surely not to others. she prefers to believe that, with a bit more childhood conditioning, she might have taught masterclasses in emotional compartmentalization. the art of setting your inner turmoil aside just long enough to appear functional had practically been her bread and butter since she'd been old enough to think. and yet, this time, it was undeniable. the storm that had unleashed itself within her ever since her brother's necklace brushed against her fingertips sat trapped in her chest, outdone only by the guilt of remembering simone's injury (which made the blonde the recipient of frequent texts checking in on her) and her own visual reminders of what had happened. her scraped palms and the now fading cut from whipping branches tracing her right cheekbone like a half-forgotten memory. the bruising from the fall she'd taken had been the easiest thing to hide of all. still, she wasn't exactly giving news anchor ready. even worse, she wasn't giving conrad-ready. it was this very reason why she'd taken it upon herself to use every feasible excuse she could think of to avoid bumping into him. how on earth could she begin to explain what had happened when she was barely beginning to wrap her own head around it? how could she have faced him without breaking down? last he'd heard from her, ariya had insisted she was feeling unwell. her last text containing some half-baked excuse about not wanting to get him sick before she'd silenced her phone altogether, trying to swallow the guilt of lying to the one person she least wanted to lie to. she should have known better. the thought hits her all at once when she hears the knocks followed by his familiar voice on the other side of her front door. of course he would show up. of course he wouldn't let her disappear with a flimsy text and radio silence. her heartbeat spikes, thudding against her ribs as if it too was trying to run. "just a second!" she calls out, her voice thinner than she intends. ariya spins on her heel, eyes darting across the apartment like she might find a version of herself lying around that looks a little more stable. her hair is twisted into a lazy low bun, strands that had come loose hours hours ago framing her features. she was still in her favorite matching pajama set, soft cotton in a muted blush tone, comforting in its familiarity but far too intimate for this meeting she hadn't rehearsed for. she lunges for the long-sleeved shirt slung over the back of the couch, yanking it on quickly. the sleeves swallow her hands. an intentional choice. if conrad couldn't see the scrapes and cuts, maybe he wouldn't ask. maybe he wouldn't look at her with that penetrating kind of worry she couldn't handle. ariya takes one more breath, smoothes her hair down with trembling fingers and unlocks the door. when it swings open, the words die in her throat. there he was — every piece of him she missed, every part she was terrified to face. her mind scrambles for something to say, something that will ease the tension in her chest, that will make this seem normal. and yet, all she can seem to muster is a soft and quiet "hi" as her lips curve into a tentative smile.

[intheseaofred]

Conrad stands at her door, inked hands stand at his sides, after knocking once - then twice. One of them holds a faded shopping bag, certainly not the most charming of choices to match his poor sense of style, featuring just a normal pair of jeans and an old navy sweatshirt rolled up into his elbows. His keys, cigarettes and phone occupy the space in his back pockets, the later remains silent just as it had been for almost all of yesterday, no matter how many calls he had made and no matter how many texts he had sent Ariya it came to a point where she stopped responding.

He decided to give her time. Maybe she had fallen asleep, maybe she was just resting, maybe she truly needed her space. But, he had enough, the worry had been eating him alive and he had been unable to sleep peacefully the past night, just thinking about her alone in her apartment. If she thought her being sick was enough of a reason for him to stay away, then, she must have not known him at all - he had basically raised two kids on his own (while being one himself), saw one of them being born, he didn't scare that easily, nor was he disgusted by a simple flu.

He breathes a sigh of relief before he can stop it after hearing her voice through the door. Thankfully another neighbor was coming in at the same time and let him in, but for a moment Conrad thought of the possibility that she might not even open the door. But, that all fades away once he sees her face, the worry that had settled in his chest eased away just a small bit - she looked comfortable, almost cozy, messy hair, in her pajamas and a sweater that was far too big for her, he couldn't help the tilt of his head or the little smile that peaks through, clearly just happy to see her "hey," he breathes, staring at her "I brought food and some other good stuff that might help, is that enough to let me in or do I need to get on my knees and beg?" maybe he had gotten too used to her presence again, her absence affecting him in ways he was familiar with.

[blndspots]

there's a sort of routine to the way he fills up the bowls for the cats that betrays his former claims about his lack of ownership over them and her eyes sparkle with the appropriate amusement at the quiet observation. the furball in her lap stretches, a quiet meow heard in passing before scout departs from his resting place atop ariya and the couch to collect his dinner. she follows suit then, rising from her former position to approach the table he'd set for them. "not even a little charred?" she hums, soft and teasing, though there's an evident warmth bleeding through, "we might have to start discussing your payment soon. typically only the first taste test is free. correct, chef?"

she slides into the seat as if she'd claimed it a million times before and, almost out of instinct, she finds herself pulling the chair just a few inches closer to where conrad had put down his own plate. it happens before she can think better of it, like her body is responding to a lingering gravitational pull. she inspects the tacos, lips curving into a gentle smile. when was the last time someone had cooked for her? not at a restaurant or fancy event but in the comfort of their own home without a major occasion. it had been a while, certainly. it had been a while since she had done more than half-heartedly throw something quick together, too. it takes her exactly one bite to release a noise of approval, eyes finding conrad's as she nods eagerly. "you're hired. name your price, whatever it is."

her eyes remain locked on him when he speaks as she hangs on every word he says. the sentiment was familiar. everybody needs somebody. it was a belief she'd echoed before and yet, somewhere along the way, the reality of it seemed to have gotten caught in the crossfire of the position she'd placed herself in. the list of people she trusted had dwindled significantly since her brother's passing, the list of ones she relied on had become even shorter. she liked to think of herself as reliable but when was the last time she'd actually let herself lean on somebody? today, she realizes, gaze studying conrad's features like she's trying to catalogue details into memory.

as long as it's the right person. ariya places the taco back on its plate once he finishes speaking, wiping her hands clean before reaching one out towards him, pinky extended in a silent request for him to loop his own through it, much like something she would have done when they were much younger. she meets those bright blue eyes, her gaze not shying away as she speaks. "pinky promise to be your person if you promise return the favor?"

[intheseaofred]

The softness in his eyes remain, a small glint of amusement showing through them at her little provocation "not even a little," he echoes back, finishing the task at hand, eager to please her. Conrad can't help the laugh that bubbles out of his throat at her choice of words "of course, as you wish" he replies even if never for a minute he thought about receiving something back, much less money.

He stops in the middle of a bite, just as soon as the noise reaches his ears, eyes focusing back on her figure and body frozen in anticipation as he watches her swallow the food he just made for the two of them. Ariya gives him her approval not too long after and Conrad is please with himself, feels his body lean closer to hers as well. "Hm," he seems to think for a bit as he chews his own food "anything?" he asks, seems to think of the options, some far too daunting to say aloud "No money needed, just keep my secret safe and you're good" he shrugs, finally admitting to what he has been denying all evening.

The conversation takes a turn, but it feels normal and comfortable, like nothing Conrad can ever say will ruin the moment they are having. Like their friendship had never been put on pause. Like they both didn't have other secrets that they were both keeping from each other, honest, but not completely and yet willing to be.

He watches her again, not one to get tired of looking at her, but reminding himself to mirror her actions before getting too lost in her features. His fingers loops in her just like they did so many times before in the past. "Pinky promise" but the truth was she was already his person long before this, she just didn't know it.

THE END.

[taileaten]

"you would be surprised," he said, earnest, "how little we actually know anyone. sometimes the people in your life know the least." it was easier, he had read, for people to talk to strangers than to their own family. katashi could even imagine that to be true... but he had never felt the urge to confide in anyone about anything. the desire was alien to him, trained out along with every other exploitable weakness that tended to plague human beings. he believed that made him emotionally infallible. conrad was not. he reeked with desperate loneliness, eager for someone to listen to his troubles. more importantly, forgiveness. people were always seeking forgiveness, the permission to assuage their own guilt. rarely did those words find their target. "i see," he said, taking a few bites of his meal. it was passable. "unfortunately, you've had to learn a hard lesson an even harder way. family is only ever stronger together." and he truly believed that, with ever fiber of his being. "but that only makes atonement more important. if you don't seek to do better, you might as well just give up and throw yourself into the sea." he paused again, hungry enough to continue. "but that would be wasteful. and selfish, don't you agree?"

[intheseaofred]

The words seem to hit a nerve and it shows in the way Conrad pauses for a small moment, a fleeting second that for the untrained eye looks like he is only listening, however that is far from the truth. He resumes his movements, takes another bite of his food, trying to focus more in the moment than his past, keeping some of his secret still hidden.

"Do you believe that?" not that it matters much now, he had made his choice back then and even if he had come to regret it, he never thought of it as the wrong choice. He could barely deal with himself after what he had done, couldn't handle the way everyone looked at him and was afraid to be looked at the same way by his family. More than anything, he was afraid to drag them down with him.

"Maybe," he shrugs a little, he was doing better fortunately, those kind of thoughts no longer plagued his mind "but sometimes doing better, if only with yourself in mind, that can be the wrong move to make" he could no longer picture his sister, she must have grown up so much, far from the kid he used to know.

[100boxties]

"Missed a spo--"

Conrad barrels past him, and his pointed finger is left hanging in the air. Lucky waits a beat or two, staring at the smear on his sleeve where Conrad's shoulder brushed him. Almost immediately after, the bar lurches back to its rhythm. Glasses are refilled and music blasts again like nothing happened. Only one person doesn't move with it: Lucky watches Conrad storm through the crowd.

He thinks nothing of it until he spots someone trailing after Conrad, so he follows behind them. It takes ramming their face into the wooden wallboards to stop them from entering the bathroom. Standing over the drunken body, he squints at the door Conrad disappeared behind, wondering what's holding him back.

Fuck it, he thinks, what's he got to be scared of? Under the heel of his boot, the door swings open.

"Always liked your dramatic exits." But the bite's dulled, trailing off as his eyes find Conrad hunched over the sink, and whatever sharp edge he meant to throw is drowned out in the fluorescent hum.

[intheseaofred]

Conrad barely registers all that is happening around him, his brain takes him back to a past he longs to forget. He stands over the sink, the water that drips from his hands and face is clean, different from back then. The memories come back, even when he tries to shake them off, the sound of a gun, the body in the kitchen, the dried blood under his fingernails. It makes him spiral, shoulders trembling just as his eyes fall closed, trying to fight it all back once again, but there is no escape.

Not until a familiar voice brings him back, it takes him a while to notice that someone is talking to him, a little longer to even notice who that voice belongs to and when he finally does he still fails to understand just what those words were. He opens his eyes, blinks twice before moving away from the sink, choosing the opposite wall to bear his weight instead just as he looks at person who used to be one of his closest friends.

"Fuck you" the words come out lacking the strength he wished he had in that moment, but instead it comes out sounding just as tired as he feels, head spinning more from memories than the drinks he had. "You have some nerve, coming to speak with me like nothing ever happened" he blinks once more, wishing he had left earlier, wishing for this conversation to end "If you want to hit me, go for it, but make sure to do it right - if I black out that would be fucking golden, I could use some sleep"

[blndspots]

"oh? so i better get used to it, hm?" she echoes, the words curling at the edge of her mouth like they are something she wants to believe. she watches the way he moves — still steady, still familiar, even with his attention split. "dangerous thing to say to someone who forms attachments easily." her voice is light, teasing, masking any potential weight of what she really means. but her smile lingers, softer now, tucked into the side of her face as she shifts again, resting her cheek fully against her arm. when he teases her about distracting him, she hums faintly, eyes half-lidded with something like contentment. "i wasn't aware existing in your general vicinity was such a hazard to your productivity," she murmurs, eyes dancing as they track him again, "good to know." his next question has her raising her brows momentarily. competition? she pretends to consider it for a second, like she's running through a mental list. "well," she drawls slowly, "there's the guy at the dumpling stand i frequent during short lunch breaks who throws in extra when i smile at him. but i'm not sure he can chop vegetables with the same emotional intensity as you." her grin reappears even brighter this time. "so i think your spot is safe. for now." a beat passes. "and anyway," she adds, quieter now, "i don't really have people take care of me. not like this." truthfully, she doesn't exactly let people take care of her this way. she doesn't say what this exactly is. she's not even sure she knows. for now this is simply him in his kitchen, her on his couch, in a space he's allowing them to share. so, instead of trying to come up with explanations, she reaches down and gently nudges flea's paw. the cat flicks his tail but doesn't move. when she speaks again after a moment, her voice is warm and low, like the kind of memory that sticks. "maybe you should burn the tacos just a little bit or i'm gonna starting to think i could get used to this in record time."

[intheseaofred]

He tilts his head just slightly, a small movement that shows just how attentively he listens to her, even when the words of a reply don't form on his lips. Their dynamic has changed, both of them have changed over the years and yet somehow in this place, it feels like nothing ever changed, it feels easy and normal, like falling asleep on your bed after a long day. The conversation flows and the small silences that linger don't feel uncomfortable.

His eyes flicker back towards her figure, his heart beating just in time to remind him of the dangerous feelings he is unwilling to admit, "don't get cocky now" it sounds like a warning but without the edge it is supposed to have, instead its softened, lost within his smile. If, Ari, only knew just how much she had distracted him in these past few days.

The phone he always used to lose around at work, the same one he often left at home simply because of how little attention he paid to it, using it mostly only for work and little less, was now always tucked in his pockets, just to make sure that if she needed him, he would be within reach.

He puts in the final touches, leaves the rest of the dirty dishes in the sink and washes his hand before setting up the table, the food ready for them to enjoy, just before he moves of again to feed the cats. All three of them looking at him with attention before moving to their usual spots, "c'mon, let's see if I did well enough for you, and unfortunately they are not burnt" he replies, trying to not engage with the little pang of jealousy he feels by picturing Ariya smiling at another man.

He stops, lets her sit down first before doing the same. There are many ways in which they are different, but in some they are identical. "It's strange, isn't it?" Conrad still remembers the first time his sister was able to cook dinner for the first time and even if he was a bit proud, he could not help the odd feeling of actually having someone do something for him. It was easier and natural to be the one always taking care of things. "But, not bad?" he asks before picking up one of the tacos and giving it a bite, still looking at the woman in front of him "I'm still learning that no one is actually meant to be doing everything on their own, it's okay to rely on someone, as long as its the right person" he had enough of trusting the wrong people in the past, however, something in his heart told him he could still trust her. The one that had never disappointed him, the one he had missed so much.

[glittergab]

where: chez greta when: half-past noon who: @intheseaofred

She finds him. The whole point is she doesn't want to be found.

First, in a number on a tattered scrap of paper clinging to a telephone pole. There are forgotten bits of people everywhere. In signatures on receipts, the disposable miscellany at the bottom of a purse, unanswered personal ads. Forgotten is where you go if you don't want attention, half the work is already done for you.

Second, in the lobby of her apartment building. Just give a name at the door, she had said over the phone. A name, not your name.

Greta comes in behind him half an hour late, heels clicking, purse swinging, pausing mid-stride when the doorman flags her down, which is when she finally notices him.

Her feet are as tired he looks, and she's developing a headache behind her right eye from wasting a morning that demanded she haul herself out of bed early. She shifts from one foot to the other impatiently. Her eyes, rimmed with a smudge of weathered mascara that's eager to be taken off, fall on his toolbox. It clicks.

"Oh shit, was that today?" In a blink, confusion and disinterest have scampered off her face, leaving behind an easy pleasantness. She tilts her head toward the elevator. "Come on, the TV isn't gonna hang itself."

[intheseaofred]

It had been a while since Conrad had received this type of call. He remembers needing a job and needing the money even more, even if he did not knew much back then, besides the little jobs he had worked at when he was a teenager and even after not pursuing any further studies, he was a had worker and a smart young man.

He had found someone, an older man who despite all of his experience, his age had started to weigh him down and thus he needed someone to help him with most of his task, so for a good while Conrad learned all kinds of trades, helping him out with anything he needed, until eventually, he was able to work on his own.

But now, he worked at a different field and had long forgotten the flyers he had left over the island to promote his work. It had been confusing, then surprising and even if has a stable life and doesn't need to do much extra work, he had never been the one to turn down a good deal.

It seemed easy enough.

He waits and then waits some more, following as it had been instructed over the phone. However, when he starts to debate if this is really worth his time, the person that had sought him out finally appears, clearly too lost in her thoughts and almost to tired to notice him, all negative thoughts disappear - he had had some days like that too.

He offers a tiny smile and nods, "yeah, but if it's a bad time, I don't mind -" but she cuts him off and he ends up only nodding again, following her while carrying the toolbox "is that all you'll need?"

[simone-montgomery]

"Oh," She starts, glancing back towards the revelry. "Yeah, it's promising to be anyway. I think dinner is going to be served soon, but I.." A puff of air escapes before she can truly overshare. "I needed some air."

A beat passes, then. "Are you working here?"

[intheseaofred]

Conrad nods, never the one who was able fully understand the need for such grand events, often standing more on the other side of it all instead of actually receiving an invitation. "Yeah, just offering some rides to whoever needs it" it was slow now, most had already arrived and had no need to leave so soon into the night, "you?" Simone showed no signs that she was on the clock, but maybe her attendance had more to it than it appeared.

[simone-montgomery]

Coronado Eterna; part 1 @intheseaofred

"Conrad? I thought that was you." Her face blooms with a warm smile, the familiar face more than welcome in her moment of anxiety.

[intheseaofred]

He hears the familiar voice, making him turn around "Simone" the relief seems mutual "You look nice," he says offering her a little smile and a small nod "good party?"

[intheseaofred]

Driving a 1959 Astro Regalia Conrad is one of the many chauffeurs appointed for the evening of the event of the year. Please don't forget your belongings or your dignity, this man is just trying to get through the night and finish his shift.