Jules had been aiming for teasing, but he sensed that he had seriously missed his mark. “Hey, I’m sorry,” he replied gently, “I don’t think that about you at all, Kai.” He wanted to say more, but he didn’t want to risk sounding insincere. He’d clearly touched a nerve, and what Kai had said resonated with him. They stood in silence for a moment. “Come on, let’s go inspect the beach situation,” he slipped off his shoes, heading down towards the sea. “We haven’t had a chance to talk about how you’ve been,” he added, without glancing behind him to see in Kai was following.
Kai turned surprised eyes on Jules. “Oh---I didn’t mean you, I just meant in general, that it’s a weird saying...” This was awkward. His skin really wasn’t that thin, never had been. Everyone’s attitude about their ‘former behaviour’ or whatever was frankly a little perplexing for him. There seemed to be a lot of overcompensation going on. Jules’s direction to the beach didn’t appeal much to Kai---he liked the wind and the waves, but the potential for sunburn he could take or leave. It didn’t sound like there was room for negotiation however, so he followed, only dragging his hand through his hair at the thought of catching up. “I mean, there’s not much to say---it’s all pretty boring,” he attempted lamely. “Work’s work, relationships are... brief.” With one notable exception, of course. “What about you?” Did he turn that around too quick? Whatever. He was sure Jules could fill the silence talking about himself.
The night already peaked by the time Kai’s turn was up. He had come down off the high off the lip sync battle---gracefully conceeded to Samuel, on the basis that one man sacrificing his dignity to Avril Lavigne should logically outweigh what essentially became a group dance-off with Lady Marmalade, and the excellence of that was in no way Kai’s doing---and he was slumped on the floor half-wasted already by the time he was poked in the ribs and forced back to attention.
He wasn’t looking forward to whatever people had planned for him. There’d already been a few curve balls, and he was, frankly, really worried about Salem, and Cleo. But, he couldn’t very well refuse after making most of the squad do whatever had popped into his head.
from cleo raja —
truth: what’s one thing you would change about everyone here?
dare: consume everything in the minibar, alcohol aside, in five minutes.
He could not afford the contents of the minibar at this point, even not including the alcohol. Nor did he want to.
“Simple. We’d all have colour-coded or elemental or animal super powers, à la Power Rangers, or Sailor Moon.” He shrugged.
“We have never been, nor can we ever be, a proper friend group, since we don’t have a transformation sequence.” He downed the rest of his drink. Tonight was the first night he was really letting himself consume as much alcohol as he wanted---it seemed fitting. Then he continued, before anyone else could take over.
“See, Salem would be something dark and edgy like a black motif with ice and a panther, Leigh would be like a sassy lion and the colour orange. Danny would be yellow and something that flies, an eagle? TJ would be green with like, an alligator or a snake, Cleo would be red and maybe a badass scorpion or spider or a biker thing going on. Jenny might also be red---I feel like you’d rock the pink outfit, though, and maybe have some secret like you can control time and are the most powerful of us and no one knows it. Skylar would be purple and wind powers, something pretty like a butterfly but like---deceptive, her wingbeats make hurricanes, I dunno. Sam’d be blue, cause it’s like “leader-y”, but he’d have like... sweet water powers or maybe a wolf thing going on... I dunno. Dakota would be white, and his power would be...” Here he blanked. “To perfectly slice a bagel, or he’d turn into an airplane? I don’t know what your deal is these days, I dunno who you are, dude. Jules would be gold and control the sun, probably. Kelley would be silver---not because she’s second best though, silver ‘cause she’d turn into like a thousand knives, or just a fuckin’ tank.”
“And I’d be the, uhhh... Turquoise Ranger. There’s never a Turquoise anything. But it’s cool, ‘cause I’d also have a sloth patronus or whatever, and you guys would still have to bring me along anyway.” He folded his hands and surveyed the circle seriously.
“The defense rests.” Lawyer-talk, bonus points. He mimed sinking a basketball, for good measure.
from dakota harrison —
truth: who do you dislike most out of all of us?
dare: arm wrestle me.
It only took one glance at Kota’s arms before Kai scoffed. “Yeah, right. That’s happening---real suspense in who’d win, you clearly just want to look good. I’ll take truth... Who I dislike most...” He thought about it for a heartbeat, squinting around at the assembled group. Sure, there were some there he could take or leave, but no one he truly, deeply disliked more than... “Myself, obviously. Not that you’re not all terrible in your own special ways.”
There was a deafening silence, and he glanced around. “What? Too edgy? It’s called a truth for a reason---” Someone helpfully pointed out that answering yourself was against the rules, and he grew slightly more irritated with all of them. But only for a second. “Fuck you guys, let me be the emo one for once.” He sighed. “Whatever, let’s just... give the people what they want.” He rolled up his right sleeve, and leaned forward to plant his arm in the middle of the circle before flashing Dakota a wide smile and saying, “Bring it, Beardface. And I mean it---you throw this out of pity or something and I will destroy you some other way when you least expect it.”
from jenny jordan —
truth: what was the cause of your weirdest boner?
dare: put five ice cubes down your pants and leave them there.
“Saying no to the ice dick, thanks, darlin’.” It was a little hard to look at her longer than a second without remembering what she’d said about his eyes and... all that. He still hadn’t quite recovered from the stuff people had said on their turns. Skylar thinking he had a good personality was... misguided, but okay... Salem’s was intentionally weird (as he’d requested, so that one was probably on him.) But Jenny’s confession had taken him utterly by surprise and he still wasn’t sure whether she’d been entirely serious, or if she’d had some other reason for praising him.
He cleared his throat. “Weirdest boner? Mr. Fuller’s math class, apropos of trigonometry. Isosceles triangles just do it for me, I guess. Or, it was the hell that is puberty, and a light breeze could have the same effect, so.” He was answering a lot of truths, it turned out. Whether that would grow uncomfortable in the near future, he wasn’t sure, but at least for once it was a game of embarrassment for everyone, not just him.
from julian campbell —
truth: who in the room has hurt your feelings the most, and how?
dare: do your best impression of three people in the room - really commit to it.
Well, he knew he wasn’t gonna touch that truth with a ten foot pole. He’s not certain who he’d answer, anyway. Most of the incidents kind of blurred together, and the ones that really stung weren’t things he was willing to admit under any kind of torture. Which left him eyeing the other individuals for targets.
Of course, the more sensible thing would be to separate the impressions. But once he’d settled on them, a scene was already forming in his mind---and they had a brief stint taking Drama in high school to thank for that, he figured. “Alright, but I need props...” With an effort, he pushed himself up, then travelled around the room collecting what would be most effective---a pair of oversized sunglasses, a phone, a scarf, a pair of big headphones from his own bag tossed in the corner, and... yeah, that’d work.
He then proceeded to enact a familiar situation to all of them, Jenny and Salem being catty at each other---sunglasses perched artfully on a dismissive smirk when it was her lines, scarf draped around his neck lazily for pretentiousness rather than representing any particular habit of Salem’s, but it worked, and Cleo in the headphones, snapping peevishly at the others as she looked at her phone at intervals.
By the end of five minutes his brain was stretched to capacity, he’d nearly strangled himself twice in headphone cords and the scarf, and the sunglasses were haphazardly pushed into his hair. “...in conclusion, you’re petty assholes who need to handle your issues better, and I don’t know why I love you,” he finished, breathlessly, before collapsing backwards on the floor.
from salem st. ives —
truth: did you cheat to get through law school?
dare: spend the rest of the game blind folded and wear ear plugs under headphones turned full blast (so that any other dares can get done to him and he’ll have no idea who did it).
He wrinkled his nose at the dare. “I would have to be horribly masochistic to be into that, I hope you know that. And I’m only like... maybe lightly masochistic most days, so you’ll just have to be treated to my full presence for the rest of the game.” It was hard to sweep a mocking bow while seated, but he tried to give one to Salem with minimal spillage of his drink.
“And I...” He paused, and covered it by sipping at the medley of alcohol in his cup---was it his? Had he just picked it up? It tasted like sour patch kids, and he was fairly sure he’d had something in the brownish family. “Is this someone else’s drink?” he asked, keeping the suspicion that maybe he was being pranked---extra bonus prank on Kai night, you know---a private one. “Anyway, it’s delicious, so thanks.” The potential prankster could have their laugh, his drink was delightful. “As I was saying, I did not cheat in law school.” It was, he told himself, the absolute truth. He’d never even been in law school---so how could he cheat? His smirk lost some of its pep when he remembered why that wasn’t exactly the triumph it should be. Someone, somewhere, had actually been in law school and not cheated---but it sure as hell wasn’t him. His mouth tasted bitter, and the stolen drink didn’t help any.
from samuel flores —
truth: do you still resent how the squad treated you in high school?
dare: prank call one of your coworkers.
And there it was. The kicker. ‘Cause he didn’t have coworkers to call---unless you counted Jeremy and Yolanda from the sandwich shop. Who would not take kindly to being disturbed---high priced lawyers might shrug that shit off as a laugh. Minimum wage dishwashers, or his manager, would not. And, believe it or not, he actually liked his coworkers. They thought he was good at his job---and he was, obviously, but they treated him like he was. He wasn’t going to subject them to the... Recapturing Lost Youth Squad. Yolanda had three kids, for fuck’s sake.
He swallowed the remains of his cup and studied the bottom. “I wouldn’t say I resent it,” he said, surprisingly calm and serious for the moment. “That makes it seem like I’m out for vengeance on everyone or hate you all. I don’t, at all. I just want... I dunno.” His voice dropped to a mumble. “Respect, maybe? Or... something...” And now, because of his stupid choice to pretend to be something he wasn’t, some of them actually did respect him, but it wasn’t even him, not really. They respected a complete and total fabrication. He’d almost gotten what he wanted, but it felt hollow and fake.
from skylar murphy —
truth: when was the closest you came to truly getting upset with the squad’s jokes on your behalf?
dare: spread a rumor about someone in the squad that really grinds your gears (i.e. whoever pokes fun at you too much from your perspective).
“Uhhh...” He tried to think, this time, of something specific. After a minute, he nodded. “I do remember one time...” Which in hindsight, might’ve been a precursor to things to come, but he hadn’t been too wise about that sort of thing until he started actively looking for them at his therapist’s bidding. “After we saw the Arcade Fire concert in junior year, and everyone had bought merch. Remember, it was like, a status thing? Wearing the shirts the next day if you’d been to the show? Teenagers are trash.”
“Anyway, they were actually pretty tame as jokes go, just about the shirt and how I had finally made a decent fashion choice, combined with like... the occasional jab about how now I looked like all the other indie pricks at school.” It really had been totally run-of-the-mill day, all things told---except he’d actually loved that shirt, and the concert had been a good memory. And it’d only lasted a day, because of their idiotic taunts, and his skin being surprisingly thin that week. “Went home and burned the thing in the fireplace. Of course, our fireplace wasn’t equipped for synthetics or whatever was on the logo, I dunno... Anyway the house filled up with smoke and I had to evacuate the munchkins to the lawn,” he said, referring to his siblings. “And got in complete shit for it. Never told any of you, but I think that’s the most pissed I ever got.”
from tj powell —
truth: do you like leigh or salem better?
dare: run out into the hall, knock on somebody’s door, and ask to use their bathroom.
He toyed with his lower lip, looking directly at the dimly-aware Salem as he tried to decide. It should be an easy answer, but his drink had been spiked after all---with indecision and philosophizing, apparently, because it occurred to him that for all his resentment of Leigh becoming joined at the hip with Salem instead, there was something that wasn’t quite... It wasn’t jealousy, really, because he also liked Salem. Genuinely. If he’d been in her shoes, he’d have opted to hang out with Salem, too. So he didn’t really blame her, and that’s what made it complicated. Leigh was his oldest friend, probably. They understood each other, and she’d never cut him out---when she could have. They became a trio instead. He eventually realized he’d been silently musing and staring at Salem for quite some time, and shrugged. “Fuck it.” He got shakily to his feet and went out into the hall, made a show of being choosy about which hotel door he was going to disturb before selecting one at random and knocking.
And then knocking at another when the first didn’t answer. Finally, the door was jerked open. A tall man with a handlebar moustache to rival most cowboy movies loomed over him from the doorway. “What do you want.” He snapped.
Kai blinked. “Uh, I---I lost my room key---can I use your bathroom?”
The man stared at him---then down the hall, where he no doubt saw the heads of several onlookers. “No.”
The door slammed inches from Kai’s nose and blew his hair back with the force of it. He was happy to retreat with his indignity and the thought of ‘I’m twenty eight fucking years old, what am I doing’ echoing shamefully in his head, until he realized he had an ace up his sleeve---or on his hand, rather. He grinned down the hall at his friends, took the bandage off his right palm from the failed blood oath with Cleo, and knocked again.
The door opened. “Fuck off---”
“Please,” he implored, clutching his bloody hand. “I just need to wash off the blood, and then I’ll go...”
The man’s eyes widened. “Shit! Yeah, come on---I know first aid. How’d you manage that, son?”
Kai followed, face serious. Ten minutes later he came back to the room, freshly bandaged and more or less triumphant.
in return for samuel’s moving lip sync rendition of avril lavigne’s classic masterpiece, girlfriend, kai will need to rope in several other people to get his lady marmalade off the ground, so comment on this post if kai convinces your character to be involved, and i’ll write you in as taking a verse. thank you all for your consideration. <3<3
“Kai!” Cleo exclaimed again as his slushy exploded on the ground, scaring the birds enough to hover just a moment before returning with more. She was still tugging and the bird she was fighting with was waving its wings frantically. “No!” She argued back and somehow managed to rip the churro from the bird’s mouth. There was no hesitation from her as Cleo was running on adrenaline and she made her escape. It was an ugly scene– Cleo couldn’t run, Kai was somewhere, abandoned (she was hoping he’d have the good sense to follow), so many people were watching, and there was just a flock of birds trailing after her and swooping below.
Throwing the door to the closest indoor location open and shutting it close, Cleo was finally safe, the birds just on the other side. “Kai? Kai!” She could see him from behind the glass and opened just a little to let him in.
It wasn’t hard to keep track of Cleo, due to the mob of gulls that seemed hellbent on getting one churro between the lot of them. She didn’t take his advice---which didn’t bode well for the two of them if ever a zombie apocalypse or horror movie scenario took place---and chose to fight before she darted off. He’d honestly never seen her so worried. Keeping close was a challenge, until she ran inside and then called to him. He pushed past the furious hoard and elbowed his way in next to her.
A few seconds passed in panting shock, before he actually looked around and brightened. “Oh, neat. Found the aquarium.” He pointed to a sign, briefly, before dropping back down to clutch his knees. “Fish. Fish are good. Fish are soothing.” He really needed to get back in shape.
Skylar can’t help but laugh in amusement at his words, teasingly rolling her eyes. “Oh, come on, Kai. You can’t be that down in the dumps right now. Just look around at everything!” Skylar spins around once slowly with her arms spread out perpendicular to her body. It – the – almost made her feel like Evie. “There’s so many fun things to do. She stops. “Here.” Her hand points out toward a large machine. “It’s one of those cliché ‘test your strength’ machines. I think I’ve only seen them in the movies. Let’s go and try it out. What do you say? I’ll even say ‘please’ if I have to.”
He arched an eyebrow. “Is that a challenge? ‘Cause I assure you, I definitely can be this down in the dumps, and looking at all of everything might just be helping me do it.” He wasn’t fond of summer, or heat. Maybe that’s why moving to LA had ended in disaster? Not enough snow? Surely that’s the real reason---he’d just chosen the wrong climate in which to attempt to thrive. A grin hovered around his mouth anyway, as he dug his hands into his pockets. The complaints were growing more halfhearted, but he still had a lot of them stored up. “And you manage to choose the one thing that might reveal to the world that I haven’t really worked out since 2015? Sign me up.” Still, she had a sunny energy that cancelled his out, and undermined his inclination to be tired of most things in his life right now.
“yes, they do make nests. i think. i don’t know, but whatever version of the nest they have, they make it – and i’m sure it looks like your hair. if they sleep on the water, they’ll most probably get eaten by seals or sharks or whatever predators lurk in the water.” she took a moment to think about ducks – ducks of all things – then shook her head. “i’m not sure if they make a nest… maybe they dig… i don’t know.” she shrugged, and then smiled as she reached up and combed her fingers through his hair, effectively messing it up so most of his hair was covering his forehead. “i agree. don’t want you getting lost though. i don’t want to have to deal with a crying man on my shoulder, but i’d be open to trying some of the rides. you wanna come with?”
He tried to picture a seal eating a duck, and then wished he hadn’t. “We’re not going to win any prizes for marine biology,” he lamented, standing placidly as she played with his hair, before huffing a breath in an attempt to get his bangs out of his eyes. It was not very successful, but two hands pushing it back into its usual wavy mass did the trick. “Given how much boardwalk food I’ve eaten today already, I should say no for everyone’s sake, but I’m not going to. Lead on---but I make no promises not to cry on your shoulder anyway if I feel like it.” He was quite prepared for her to pick the most nerve-wracking, stomach-dropping rides---but going along with what Leigh suggested was like a factory default setting for him. Plus, he’d take this version of her over awkward-sincere-apologies Leigh any day. He’d accepted the one about ditching him for Salem, but it had left him confused and uncertain, and he was happily in denial about having anything major or deep still remaining to say about it.
“ you’re standing next to the right person, ” jenny takes the freedom to link her arm with kai’s as soon as she hears the words ‘ buddy-system ’, stepping in closer with a smile. she survey’s the area for any oncoming danger, though the only seagulls she can spot from here are a good twenty feet away from them. “ in the face of the seagull, i’m basically a trained martial artist. i once brawled with the seagull over a hamburger when i was drunk in santa barbara, ” an air of arrogance surrounds her, “ and i won. ”
“I absolutely believe you did that, and I’ve never felt safer,” he admitted. Regardless of all the drama that had surrounded her back in the day, Kai appreciated Jenny’s approach to things. Her confidence was reassuring, given that he rarely found his own on hand. “I can’t decide where to go,” he provided, expecting her to have an opinion when he felt like he couldn’t string two sentences together coherently regarding this whole trip. “I’m craving something cold.” It was something, even if it was vague. “To eat, to be doused in, to drink---don’t care. Just... refrigerate me, somehow, JJ.”
kelley chuckled. “just bring a bag of cheetos with you everywhere and throw them in the exact opposite direction of where you wanna go, and you’ll be fine,” she said with a shrug. adjusting her sunglasses to look at him properly, she added, “but if you want a buddy, i guess i can think of worse ones. where to, buddy?”
He blinked at her. “That’s fucking genius. Help me find the sacrificial cheetos?” On second thought, he back-pedaled. “Only if you feel up for it, truly---you look comfortable, and I’m never one to disturb comfort, even for a noble quest that could save my future meals from thieves.” Honestly, he was more than happy to room with Kelley, as it meant a minimum of drama---or so he assumed. And they owned an equal quantity of hair products. So he felt he owed her some rest if she wanted it, in exchange for being the chillest person he could probably interact with this trip.
This trip felt a bit impulsive from Skylar’s perspective, but she was excited at the same time that work was allowing her a few days off through her vacation days. She didn’t completely tell them that this is why she wanted the time off, but she didn’t feel like she necessarily had to either. After finally arriving and dropping her things off at the hotel alongside everyone else, the brunette found her way standing next to Kai. She laughed at what he had to say. “I don’t know if I’ll be much help against them. But I can try my best to defend us if they try and attack.”
He looked over at Skylar, then back to the circling birds. “I dunno if it’s worth the risk, even. I might just pass out on my bed for a few hours. Or in a sun chair and let the heat take me.” He knew he should try and be more optimistic about this whole trip, but really it was beginning to get stressful. The heat didn’t help anything, nor did concealing the basic facts of his life from his old friends. A pair of young kids ran by, startling him. “I’m an old man,” he admitted dolefully, pulling at his shirt which was decidedly too polyester for this climate. “All I want to do is sleep and yell at people to slow down.” He paused. “Am I a buzzkill? I feel like a buzzkill. Skylar, help me find joy again.”
“there, there, buddy,” leigh dropped two, hopefully comforting pats on his shoulder. “you’ll be fine. those seagulls won’t attack you unless you have a burger in your hand or… well, you know, if you fix your hair so it doesn’t look like a bird’s nest.”
“Do seagulls make nests? I genuinely can’t picture it. Don’t they just sleep on the water, like ducks?” The thought struck him. “Wait, do ducks make nests? Do I know nothing about birds, at all? Maybe I just fear what I don’t understand...” He glanced at her. “You like my hair---don’t even pretend. And we’d be lost if I cut it, you’d never find me in the crowds. Just another unremarkable white dude, forever adrift in a sea of bland tourists, lost on Coney freaking Island.”
“It always sucked that we are an odd number,” Jules grimaced, head racing ahead as he split the group into imaginary buddy pairs. He didn’t add that with him missing for most of his senior year, this had probably never been an issue. His odds were not looking good if someone had to go it alone. He played with his engagement band self-consciously, hands sticky from the heat. The boardwalk was heaving with bodies. “With all due respect,” he turned to Kai with a slight smile, “I think they could easily take you down.”
“We are?” Honestly, the head count of the squad had changed so much over the years, Kai had stopped keeping track of who was officially in or not in. And Leigh and Salem had always buddied up automatically, leaving him to go off on his own. He dealt with everyone the same, whether they showed up for some outings or not. But he did a quick tally in his head. “Huh, s’pose so.” He was too busy doing the math to catch most of the jibe, but then just shrugged. “You ever notice how people only ever say ‘with all due respect’ right before they’re gonna say something that’s really not respectful at all? And it’s kinda backhanded anyway. Like what if the respect I’m due is actually none?” It was asked sincerely, but he realized belatedly maybe he could’ve stood up for himself instead of... going off on a tangent.
Kai had always been funny. Not always nice, but still funny in a way that Leigh or Salem or even TJ didn’t quite get. Dakota laughed again at the explanation. “Yeah, alright. Just keep an eye on your hotdog and try not to need me to rescue you, alright?” His head tilted back as he basked in the heat, stretching his arms back onto the table behind him as they sat around the food court.
Kai narrowed his eyes at Dakota, before he realized it was a genuine laughing-with, not a laughing-at. Confusion made his hot dog taste like cardboard, but he kept at it, chewing slowly. “So. We didn’t really get a chance to catch up before,” he said, finally leaning back. “You didn’t turn into a criminal mastermind, I’m assuming?” He grinned, trying to sell that as a joke and not a legitimate concern he’d had. Though coming from an almost-arsonist it might be seen as hypocritical---Dakota had no way of knowing that fact.
“Kai! I don’t care about you, but help me.” Cleo tugged on the churro she’d just bought, trying to pull it from the beak of one of the seagulls. Another appeared. “Kai!”
The attack had already begun, but he wasn’t the target. Instinct took over, and he aimed a blow with a towel at the offending creature. “Dammit, Cleo!” Another bird landed nearby. His calm evaporated along with his bravado as he hurled what remained of his slushy at it, and missed. “We’re outnumbered---just drop the churro and go!”
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