"I'm so hungry and I feel like I'm 'bout to die," she pouts, leaning her head back against the booth, "And I know people say that all the time to be dramatic, but I actually mean it. It feels like my stomach is gonna start eatin' itself any second."
He knew people often expressed themselves, but he wasn't sure if this was just an expression people would say or---clearing his throat as he watched from across the booth. "Please, do not say such a thing." concern on his features, watching her intently "As for your stomach," he paused “What you are feeling is your body asking for fuel, not turning on itself.” He reached for his drink but didn’t take a sip yet. “Eat something. Even small. Panino, bread—anything.” A faint exhale, almost a quiet concession. “Your stomach is not the enemy. It is just… impatient.” he lightly chuckled.
as sienna took a sip of her wine, she kept her eyes glued to the screen of her phone. the headlines all were reporting on the arrest of one daniella st. james. she had heard about the events of the festivities from tommy but had still been in new york city at the time. none of them disclosed who was representing her. or who the city would be assigning the case to. but what she really needed to find out was how others reacted to this development. did they believe she had done it? questions were racing in her mind when another joined her in the open seat next to her. " were you at the festival? "
After a long shift, Eren found himself at the local bar, more out of habit than necessity. He wasn't looking for company, just a quiet drink and a few moments where the constant stream of headlines couldn't follow him. Lately, peace had become a rarity in this town. Every day seemed to carry another incident, another tragedy, another reminder that something beneath the surface refused to stay buried. He could shoulder that weight; years of service had taught him how. For everyone else, however, he imagined it was becoming exhausting.
He ordered a beer and let his attention drift toward the television mounted above the shelves. Another news report. Another grim update. A quiet breath escaped him as he gave the screen a small shake of his head. The sound of a voice nearby drew his attention away. "Briefly," he replied, turning toward them with an easy calm. He'd left earlier than most because work had called him elsewhere. His expression softened into a polite smile. "Were you?"
"If all this life leaves behind is the way we made others feel, then I'd rather be remembered for bringing someone peace than fear."
(Deniz Can Aktaş, cismale, he/him) Someone said they saw [EREN MARINO] around Rift Valley the night of Miles Logan’s murder. People are wondering if they had something to do with it. The [32] year old claims to be [INSTRUCTING A SELF DEFENSE CLASS] at the time of the murder. They are said to be [SINCERE], which can play to their innocence until you consider they are also [OVERPROTECTIVE]. But who knows if they are telling the truth? Rumor has it, they [ARE NOT] a witness in the investigation. Regardless, the [CIVILIAN] who happens to be the [SECURITY AT HIGH WATER HOTEL] is a suspect, but so is everyone else.
BASICS
Full Name: Eren Marino
Nickname: ---
Age: 32
Occupation: Security at High Water Hotel (knows there is shady business happening and sus) also works as a self defense trainer
Location: Rift Valley, California
Languages: Portuguese, Italian, learned Turkish later in life,
Family: He grew up in Brazil, his last name fits his adoptive family, but also he knows his real parents were Turkish. Therefore his surname to fit his adopted parents and his first name to fit what name was given to him by birth.
Eldest Sister (Helena is the light of his life. He loves her dearly, and never stops thanking her for raising him to be the person he is today.)
Parents (deceased) passed away in a horrible accident.
BIO - TW MENTIONS OF DEATH, MENTIONS OF ADOPTION
Eren Marino never questioned where he belonged. Though he was adopted, his family never treated him as anything less than their own. He spent his early childhood in Capitólio, nestled within the countryside of Minas Gerais, Brazil, surrounded by rolling hills, waterfalls, and the kind of freedom only a small town could offer. Despite growing up in a wealthy household, his parents never raised him behind gates or expectations. They encouraged curiosity over status, allowing him to experience life as any other child would. He spent his days exploring the streets with friends, swimming in the lake, wandering nature trails, and returning home only when the sun disappeared beneath the horizon.
His older sister, Helena, became one of his earliest teachers. She introduced him to English, history, art, and the habit of asking questions rather than accepting answers at face value. She never sheltered him from difficult conversations or underestimated his ability to understand the world around him. As a result, Eren developed an independence uncommon for someone his age. He learned to look beyond appearances, to separate emotion from fact when necessary, and to approach problems with quiet objectivity without ever losing his compassion for others.
Everything changed when he was six years old.
An accident claimed the lives of both his adoptive parents. They died protecting Eren and Helena, a truth that became both a comfort and a burden. For years he questioned whether things might have been different had they chosen another road, left a few minutes earlier, or simply stayed home that day. The answers never came. With no reason to remain in Brazil, Helena brought him to Levanzo, a small island off the coast of Sicily, where their grandparents welcomed them into the family home. Italy was unlike anything Eren had known. The cliffs, the Mediterranean Sea, and the slower rhythm of island life became a second home. Although he never forgot Brazil, Italy shaped the man he would eventually become.
His grandfather, a man who believed discipline built character, took an active role in his upbringing. Manners were expected. Excellence was assumed. Responsibility was never optional. Yet beneath the strict expectations was genuine care, and Eren grew to respect the lessons rather than resent them. At fifteen, he enrolled at the Teulié Military School in Milan. The transition from island life to military structure was demanding, but it suited him more naturally than anyone anticipated. The academy refined qualities he already possessed: discipline, patience, resilience, and an ability to remain composed under pressure. Leadership came quietly rather than loudly, earning the respect of both instructors and classmates.
Upon graduating, Eren chose to continue his military career rather than pursue the comforts his family could easily provide. He enlisted in the Italian Army and, through determination and exceptional performance, earned selection into one of Italy's elite special operations units. There, he underwent advanced training in reconnaissance, close-quarters combat, intelligence gathering, executive protection, tactical planning, and high-risk operations. His instructors often remarked that Eren's greatest strength was not his physical ability, but his way of leading others. In a tactical group setting, and on missions. His marksmanship was top of the class. It was a reputation that would eventually draw the attention of people operating far beyond the boundaries of military service.
At the age of twenty-six, Eren chose to see more of the world before deciding where he truly belonged. He spent several years traveling between countries, immersing himself in different cultures, languages, and ways of life. Rather than passing through as a tourist, he believed every place had something to teach him. He listened more than he spoke, observed how people carried themselves, and found that no matter where he went, humanity shared more similarities than differences.
Eventually, his journey brought him to the United States, where he settled in New York City. With his military background and reputation for professionalism, he found work in executive protection, providing security for high-profile individuals within elite social circles and the entertainment industry. His calm demeanor, discretion, and ability to anticipate danger before it unfolded earned him the trust of clients whose safety depended on remaining one step ahead.
His work would eventually lead him west to Rift Valley, where he accepted a position as head of security at the High Water Hotel. On paper, it was a quieter assignment. A fresh start in a growing city built on opportunity. He also wanted to help others defend themselves and signed up to be an instructor for self defense class. The recent violence surrounding Rift Valley—the murders, the disappearances, and the growing tension that seemed to settle over the city like a storm waiting to break—didn't strike him as isolated incidents. Something beneath the surface wasn't adding up. And if experience had taught him anything, it was that the most dangerous threats were rarely the ones standing in plain sight.
PERSONALITY
He is warm, kind, the type of person that people gravitate towards, and people tend to trust him without even knowing why.
Observant — Notices the smallest details about people, environments, and changes in behavior before anyone else does.
Patient — Rarely rushes decisions. He's comfortable waiting for the right moment rather than forcing outcomes.
Protective — Feels responsible for the safety of those under his care, often placing himself in danger without hesitation.
Composed — Maintains an even demeanor under pressure. Panic is something he simply doesn't entertain.
Compassionate — Beneath the discipline is someone who genuinely values life and prefers preventing violence over resorting to it.
AESTHETICS
Style: Classic Italian tailoring with practical military influence. Crisp button-downs, linen shirts with rolled sleeves, fitted trousers, wool coats, leather jackets, polished boots, quality watches, and understated accessories. Off duty, he favors simple knit sweaters, dark denim, and neutral-toned clothing that prioritizes function without sacrificing elegance.
Color: Olive green, navy blue, charcoal, black, warm ivory, stone, forest green, muted burgundy, and deep ocean blue.
Textures: Worn leather, brushed wool, crisp cotton, linen, suede, aged wood, polished steel, natural stone, weathered canvas, and soft cashmere.
Vibe: Quiet confidence. Mediterranean gentleman. Stoic protector. Military precision softened by genuine warmth. The calm before the storm. Someone who blends into a crowd until it's time not to. Equal parts disciplined soldier and compassionate guardian.
Environment: Coastal cliffs overlooking the Mediterranean. Historic Italian villages with cobblestone streets. Sunrise over the sea. Mountain trails. Quiet cafés before opening hours. Libraries filled with old maps and history books. Shooting ranges. Vineyards at dusk. Small fishing harbors. Rain against stone buildings. Places where silence speaks louder than conversation.
Details: Fresh espresso in the early morning. Salt carried by the ocean breeze. Calloused hands that contrast with impeccable manners. A well-maintained leather notebook tucked into his coat. Fresh rosemary, cedarwood, bergamot, tobacco leaf, and sandalwood. Always aware of entrances and exits.
PLAYLIST
Getsemane - Sleep Token
Logu Eu - Jorge & Mateus
Incerteza -Na Praia- Jorge & Kauan
Arcade (Feat. Fletcher) - Duncan Laurence
Wrong - Chris Grey
Killin' It Girl - JHope
Love you like that -Canaan Smith
CONNECTIONS
You are my light - Taken by Helena - his sister and person he treasures the most in this world. she is his reason for being the person he is today and is fiercely protective over her.
The duo - Taken by Tommy - this is his best friend, while everyone knew Tommy as the second son in the Donatelli family. Danyal saw him as his confidant, someone that understood the world around them. He grounds Tommy, and looks out for him and the family.
Can you see through my eyes? - open - someone who likes to challenge his kindness, and banter with him. He has a good heart, and maybe they don't want to be swayed by it.
You've captured me - Taken by Kitty - She has caught his interest, while she may be the complete opposite of him, he's intrigued by her presence. He can't help but be drawn to her.
We are a team - open- someone who works in the same business as him, can be a fellow coworkers. Maybe even friendship with the local law enforcement.
Allow me - open - from time to time your muse sees him helping locals around town. Carrying groceries one day, then volunteering. Perhaps your muse is intrigued by him.
more to come, we can def plot!
Was she surprised that people cared? Yeah, she was. Jia had always been used to being the one taking care of the people she’d made room for in her life. Ryker had been her equal. He’d been the one to have her back as much as she had his, so now that he was no longer around, she was feeling the blow. It felt like a huge part of herself had been snatched away, too. ❝ Yeah, I am. ❞ She found herself answering with honesty. There was something about Seojun’s presence that cracked her walls a little. That small crack in her foundation, that moved all the way to the ceiling and that allowed parts of sincerity to slither through. ❝ It’s weird to realize that I have people on my corner. ❞ After all, Jia didn’t even have a proper family until she was found by her adoptive mother, that weird day in LA.
His next question made her shoulders move in a shrug. Her fingers threaded along her short hair, still damp from the shower she’d taken at the gym as she moved her dark strands away from her face. ❝ I don’t know, Seojun. You always look very… I don’t know, annoyed? Bothered? By my presence. ❞ And yet, from their first encounter, to their meet up at the photo booth, it seemed like fate wasn’t going to stop putting them in each others’ paths. ❝ And it’s not like I make anything easier by being in your face all the time. ❞ That was one way to put it. It also didn’t help that Jia wanted to kiss that face all the time. Or those broad shoulders. That massive chest…
She looked away for a moment there. That urge to wrap her arms around his neck and kiss him so she could feel something again, made her fingertips tingle. That strange urge, the feeling to fill the void in her chest, the same one that had been gone for an entire night a year before, and she’d been desperately looking for it in other people’s beds.
Yeah, being his neighbor was going to be a problem. Especially with how he’d say her name and make Jia feel so putty in his hands. It had happened with Giada, too. A problem, indeed. Just maybe not the way he thought it would be.
❝ No, Seojun. ❞ The brunette said. ❝ Of course it won’t be a problem. ❞ It felt like a battle lost of some sort. There was no hint of interest in his tone (not that Jia had ever been good at reading tone and intention), there not have been. Not since that night. Maybe she remembered it differently. Maybe it had been just that: just sex. Great sex nonetheless, but just sex. ❝ Have a nice day. ❞ Letting out a sigh, Jia walked around him. Her arm accidentally brushed against his arm and it reminded her of the last time she’d touched him. The heat that had emanated from his skin, the dire need to get lost in whatever he could offer, and then it hit her… that time, she hadn’t asked for permission. She hadn’t asked if it was okay. And chances were, it ended as awkwardly as it had because Seojun had something going on with the pretty girl he was always around with and Jia had crossed the line.
Again.
Three maybe steps after, she turned around, a frown etched in her forehead as she was unable to keep her confusion and discomfort from showing. ❝ Hey, listen… ❞ The brunette said as she stopped and looked at him. ❝ I know it’s probably too late for that but um… what happened at the photobooth? ❞ A beat. ❝ You know, the kiss and all that shit I said. Sorry about that. Hope that didn’t cause any problems between you and your girl. ❞
He hadn't been expecting any particular response. People often said things they didn't mean, softened their words out of politeness, or hid behind habit. Hers didn't feel rehearsed. If anything, it sounded genuine. As though the idea that someone might check in on her—might care enough to notice if she disappeared—was foreign. Something about that sat poorly with him. It was enough for him to shift his weight ever so slightly, the change nearly imperceptible. His mind drifted back to the conversations they'd shared before. The person standing in front of him now wasn't quite the same one he'd met then. There was something quieter about her. More distant. His gaze remained steady. ❝Is it such a strange concept,❞ he asked evenly, ❝that people care about one another?❞ A brief pause followed before he tilted his head. ❝Or is it simply unfamiliar to you?❞
It wasn't a question he normally would have asked. Personal matters were rarely his concern. Yet she seemed so detached from the idea that it drew the words from him before he'd thought better of it. It was almost as though he were speaking to someone who had long since stopped expecting anyone to stay. For reasons he couldn't quite explain, that unsettled him more than it should have.
Was this how every encounter between them was going to end? A few exchanged words, a measured glance, and then they continued on as though nothing had happened. He supposed he shouldn't have expected anything different. That had become their pattern. One of them would inch toward understanding, only for something to shift and place the distance between them again before either could make sense of it. Her have a nice day answered the question he hadn't realized he'd been asking himself.
That was all this would be.
His gaze followed her as she moved past him. The faint brush of her arm against his sleeve was accidental, fleeting enough that most people would've thought nothing of it. Seojun did. Without thinking, he took a measured step back, creating the space between them once more. His expression betrayed nothing, though his mind lingered on the moment longer than he cared to admit. Curious. He was usually the one leaving first. But then she turned around to face him once again, speechless. She mentioned the photobooth. He did say they had to finish that chat. ❝so it took you this long to remember to apologize.❞ he stated as a statement rather than a question, he was about to say something else when he heard her say your girl.
What?
It was like he was spacing out for a moment, because he has never indicated anything of the sort. At the same time trying to figure out what she meant and whom she was referring to. ❝No.❞ he shook his head and cleared his throat. ❝There is no 'my girl.' I suggest you choose your words more carefully. Who, exactly, are you referring to?❞
"do me a favor? don't be like me when my brother died." leyla had held everything in after emre died. and then there was the fact that she had pushed aside her own grieving to be there for other people. something she never should have done in the first place. "if you need to cry, cry. just let it all out, okay?" if there was one thing she could tell those who were dealing with the loss of someone, it was that. to just let out all of their emotions instead of bottling them up.
Her words stirred something deep inside Arisa. It wasn't that she was holding everything in. She just learned to not be overwhelmed with it all. She appreciated Leyla's words. "Thank you." she stated reaching over to give her friend a hug. Something she needed. "Right now, I just need a hug, from a great friend." she stated holding her "I will." she stated in response to her words, if she needed to cry she would. She would do her best not to let the sadness in.
"no, clairvoyant would imply you have supernatural abilities, and you're really not the spiritual type. no offense," hani retorted, almost patient in the way she drew out the no. eventually, she let out a sigh. "coffee wakes me up and food makes me sleepy. i know which one i'll pick in these really fucking trying times, sue me." it had its downsides, too. whenever she did go home, she barely slept. body too strung on caffeine, heartbeat too erratic to be a decent basis for restful sleep. it was that, and thinking about evidence. or rather the lack thereof. the next comment drew a genuine snicker out of hani. "you know what? you're right. i'll hit up becky in hr tomorrow and get that going asap. you should have those business card within the next 3-4 business weeks."
"jesus, fuck, fine," she huffed out, ordering the first ramen that didn't make her stomach feel like closing up in protest at her change in coffee-diet. "is that it, then? you just want me to not starve? no ulterior motive whatsoever?"
A quiet hum left him, the faintest hint of amusement softening his otherwise composed expression. "I'll concede that." He gave a small nod, as though filing the information away. "Noted." There was no need for an actual notebook. If Hani said something worth remembering, it stayed with him. He already knew her habits well enough. She found comfort in routine, buried herself in work until the hours disappeared, and rarely remembered to take care of herself unless someone reminded her. If that meant he had to be the one insisting she eat something other than coffee and survive on more than determination, then so be it. Even the most diligent people reached a point where exhaustion stopped looking productive. "...Becky." The name earned the slightest crease of his nose. "I had a feeling they'd end up on my desk eventually." His gaze settled back on her. "I'll add you to my contacts." A brief pause. "If they can't reach me, they'll know who to call."
"You wound me." he stated tilting his head "is it that hard to believe? I don't want to drown in any more paperwork tonight. If I can get a moment to step away and enjoy a meal with a friend. I can't do that?"
At the sound of Jun's perfectly ordinary footsteps, Christian lowers the newspaper a fraction. "Must you stomp about the apartment as though you're attempting to trigger seismic activity?"
He walked in, and couldn't help the chuckle escape him at Christian's words. Seojun looked down at the hardwood beneath his feet before lifting his gaze again. "I'll be sure to apologize to the floorboards." His head tilted slightly. "They appear to have offended you." He then moved to take a seat across from Christian.
"I'm sorry, I should've--" He shakes his head, an arm settling across her shoulders as he eases her inside and nudges the door shut with his foot. "Fuck, I'm just glad you're here." The television is still murmuring somewhere in the living room, credits rolling over a world where continents drift apart and nobody dies. "You two were..." He trails off, rubbing a hand over his mouth. "Shit, I don't even know what to say." His hand lingers briefly against the back of her arm. "You been by yourself since?" He asks quietly. "Or... someone's with you?"
The moment she saw him standing there, some of the weight on her chest eased. Thank God. At least he was okay. Everything else, though It was a complete mess. Lucia hated not having control over a situation. Hated standing around while everything unraveled around her, especially when it meant losing someone they cared about. When he mentioned, you two were... she already knew where he was going. "He was my friend," she answered quietly, her voice steadier than she felt. "A really good one." She looked away for a second, quickly brushing at the corner of her eye with the back of her hand before anyone could make a big deal out of it. "He didn't deserve that. Nobody does."
She swallowed the lump in her throat before forcing herself back into the conversation. "No." She shook her head. "I've been with Kitty for a while... and I'm sure Tyler is somewhere." A small shrug followed. "So I haven't exactly been alone." Her gaze returned to him, concern replacing the grief she'd tried to bury. "What about you?" she asked softly. "You okay?"
glad you know I can fuck you up. that brings a small smirk to his features, counting on it on her better days. " appreciate it. that extra one goes a longer way than you know. " he jokes but he's aware he's treading the fine line of nicotine addiction and a simple joke. " well like i said, i'm not high. " he pauses. " anymore anyway. " it's spoken with nonchalance rather than emotion. the morning after ryker's death, he checked his phone expecting a text from him he could simply ignore and save until later, usually with some stupid bullshit in it that he strangely missed in his morning routine but overall, it was a simple and quick process for him which he recognizes is a lot faster than it is for kitty or lucia. " i don't care about me though— how's it going and don't even try to fucking lie and give me some cop out. "
He at least was coping with it in his own way. At his 'I don't care about me' Lucia raised a brow, "you should." she stated looking back at him. If he didn't care about himself, that would open a whole different discussion. Lucia didn't want to end up even more of a mess. Whether he knew this or not. She remained quiet at his direct question. How is it going? translation: how are you doing, don't bullshit me. She knew Tyler could see through her. Not that she would ever lie to him. She nodded her head "give me a sec." She stood up, went to go grab her weighted blanket, which was comfortable for her. She had her plushie around and made sure she brought all that to the couch. She then walked over towards him, taking his hand before leading him to the couch. Only when he sat, she then made herself comfortable next to him. Her legs resting over his lap as she turned towards him. Banana smoothing in hand, blanket over them. "I fucking hate how this all turned to shit." her voice was quiet, like she was exhausted from all the crying. "I haven't slept, and it feels like this is all but a nightmare I haven't woken up from." they had lost a friend, someone they all cared about. It wasn't something she could just forget about. It affected Kitty as well. "I can't help but think, it could have been Nicky, it could have been me." she paused looking over at Tyler. "I was suppose to be by the popcorn stand along with Nicky, but he told me to go to temporary tattoo stand." realization settled in, still, she didn't look away from Tyler.
It sits strangely with him. Christian had gone home before the first reports reached the newsroom. He had slept through the night, only to wake to demanding producers. The tragedy had arrived to him already translated into names, timelines, and casualty figures. He had not thought to claim it as a loss of his own.
His attention settles on Arisa again, and only then does another possibility occur to him. "...Did you know someone?"
She nodded her head slowly. "I did." she was quiet for a few moments. "It's hard." processing death and losing people you genuinely connect with. It doesn't get any easier. "It doesn't feel real in a sense. Here one day, gone the next. " she stated softly. "How are you?"
"what are you, my therapist?" he scoffed, but it was this dry noise, couldn't keep up this pretense of genuinely being invested. he sounded exhausted, if anything. yujin tended to find words like these unhelpful at best -- a lot of what he did, of who he was, sat at direct odds with the majority for whom it's okay to not be okay could've been encouraging. he couldn't afford to not be okay, that was the kind of stuff that would leave him distracted, and a distracted hitman wouldn't be very good at their job. he was 'a three packets of cigarette then move on like nothing happened' kind of man. no one cared to know he hadn't slept well in years. "yeah," he said, his next words dripping in sarcasm, "i think i just deal with my ever-present trauma by trying to make my lungs implode on me before i'm thirty."
She didn't take any offense to his reaction. She figured it would go one way or the other. "Do I sound like your therapist?" she raised a brow. She wasn't here to pick apart or analyze him, she was speaking from experience and what she had learned. He was at least being honest, he didn't seem at all engaged in the conversation. She could gather that much. "If that makes it easier for you, by all means."
A hair stylist. The thought brought a smile to Yasemin’s lips. Growing up, she had always wanted to be a model, maybe because her father had always been involved with beautiful women and there were always models at their house during parties and gatherings, so maybe, she thought that if she became one of them, her father would like her a little more. Her whole life had revolved around being a model and she had wanted it so hard that she allowed herself to make all the wrong choices while chasing that dream. ❝ I think sometimes our brain does this thing where it takes control of the situation for us, right? ❞ She asked while looking at her friend. ❝ Like you see a patient coming and you know exactly what you have to do. ❞ Maybe Yasemin was spilling nonsense, since she’d never worked in a hospital before, but given how much the brunette liked being in control of her own plans and the schedules she’d make, she figured that Arisa felt the same. ❝ I wanted to be a model when I was a kid. Actually, I did some modelling gigs and all. ❞
❝ Please, have you not seen me? Ris, I cry about strangers all the time. ❞ That was… movie or TV show strangers. It was easier for her to cry about people she didn’t know. It was easier for her to live through these experiences that she would watch or read about, because in all honesty, Yasmin didn’t think of herself as someone who had gone through many experiences in life. ❝ But yes, he was a good one, you know… ❞ And that was what Yasemin kept telling others whenever they asked her about Rhys, about whether or not they were together or something. That he was good to her. He was good and kind and he deserved a better fate than dying because some crazy person had this vendetta against the people in this town. ❝ He made me feel light. ❞ She sighed, feeling her chest tighten a little. ❝ Even though things had been mostly sexual between us, he didn’t make it weird. He had this smile that I was sure would have been able to make my heart skip a beat a few years ago. ❞ Before life had turned upside down and hurt Yasemin in so many ways. Before she discovered the real meaning of heartache. ❝ He would open doors for me, put his jacket over my shoulders if he noticed I was cold… you know, an old-fashioned gentleman. ❞ And given the fact that the last person she'd been with had been a certified a-hole, Rhys was definitely a breath of fresh air. ❝ What about Ryker? ❞
Upon seeing Arisa eat the pancakes, Yasemin smiled proudly. ❝ Good. My cooking classes paid off, then. ❞ She chuckled. It had been a way that she’d found to leave the house and see people. Although her ex still had someone on her tail at all times, at least the brunette was out, doing something to distract herself from her own life. ❝ Please, it’s okay. You know how much I love cooking and baking. Besides, seeing that smile on your face is enough payment. You don’t have to make me anything, Ris. ❞ Still, Yasemin smiled as she reached up to poke her friend's cheek gently. ❝ If you're not working today, we could lower the AC temperature and spend the day under the covers, what do you think? ❞
Modeling. It was nice hearing her friend's interest, especially at a young age. Perhaps in another life she would have pursued being a stylist, open her own salon. She could still do it now if she wanted. Maybe her career could change. Turning her attention back to Yasemin's words, she nodded. ❝ It's amazing what the brain can do in any situation. The fight or flight response.❞ it was getting your body to cooperate with it sometimes that was the struggle. The effects of exhaustion hitting after. ❝But I understand what you mean. In most cases we know what we have to do. Know what to expect and to prepare for all kinds of situations.❞ She could already feel herself relaxing as she spoke with Yasemin. Arisa was grateful to have a friend like Yas, someone who understood her better than most people. ❝Ah, see that is cool. I bet you were very popular. ❞ she teased.
She was familiar with crying for strangers, and she knew Yasemin did as well. As Yasemin starting talking about Rhys, she could see that even though her friend didn't know him that well. She had a good heart, seeing the good in others. Arisa could tell from the way she spoke about him, that he was special. ❝ He sounds like he knew how to treat a lady the right way. I'm sorry for your loss Yasemin.❞ and it was a loss. Too many good people leave this world day to day. When she mentioned Ryker, she paused. ❝ He was also a gentleman. He took care of others, and had a very loving grandmother. He was the kind of person who put others before himself. Someone that knew how to make you laugh. It was easy to talk to him, and he had a nice smile.❞ she was quiet for a moment before she gave Yasemin a smile.
❝Oh but I want to. I'm going to make you something regardless.❞ she chuckled with a knowing smile. She couldn't have Yasemin making all the things here. This was her roommate, and she would help out as well. ❝That is music to my ears, cause I don't want to go outside. Indoor date sounds much better.❞ she poked Yasemin's cheek in return. ❝ We could watch a new show.❞
People watching had never been one of her favorite activities, and yet, ever since losing someone so dear to her, Jia had been doing just that: watching as people came and went, watching, but never interacting with them. Little by little, she started leaving her house; most of these times, was to drive to the cemetery and visit Ryker’s grave. Little by little, being alone felt more horrible than not, so she would go, hang by the cafe and go back to the apartment. Sometimes, she would bump into people who would ask how she was and make her retreat to her shell, others, she would find people who would offer comfort instead of asking.
It was weird… to feel cherished like that.
That morning, however, she wasn’t expecting to run into him. It would be just her luck that out of all the places in the world, Seojun Ryu would move across the street from her. And not only that, but he also shared a house with the cousin who probably didn’t even know she existed. But then, her name reached her ears and it felt like she was back at that damn hotel room, being fed touches she’d been starving for, kisses and sounds. If it was physically possible for someone to melt, she was certain she would have… which was pathetic to say the least.
Jia stopped walking when she heard her name. Her hair was still damp from the shower she’d taken at the gym, her gym bag hung on one of her shoulders and her fingers clung tightly to the sling. ❝ Kind of tried to, but apparently people missed me. ❞ The words left her lips in a mumble. It was supposed to have been a joke. It should have been a joke, but from being placed in a suicide watch, to having others send care packs, worried texts and stopping by to check in on her, the odd realization that people actually cared about her was starting to dawn on her. ❝ Neighbors, huh? I bet you’re hating that, aren't you? ❞
Seojun hated unanswered questions. The festival had come and gone, yet the city remained suspended in its aftermath. Security had tightened. Patrols were more frequent. Every shift felt heavier than the last, as though everyone was waiting for the next move instead of recovering from the previous one. Then came the funerals. One after another. Each one another reminder that they had failed to stop something before it happened. It sat poorly with him. Watching from the sidelines was never something Seojun did well. If anything, it left a constant irritation simmering beneath the surface, one he buried beneath long hours and routine. Reports became his evenings. Witness statements blurred into case files. More often than not, dinner consisted of a bowl of noodles eaten over stacks of paperwork while he searched for a detail everyone else had overlooked.
Jia had disappeared. Not literally. She was simply... absent. Their paths hadn't crossed in weeks, and despite telling himself it didn't matter, he'd noticed the silence all the same. It wasn't something he lingered on for long. There were more pressing concerns demanding his attention. Still... When the list of victims had finally been released, his eyes found themselves scanning each name without thinking. Only after reaching the end did the tension in his shoulders ease. Her name wasn't there.
❝ Are you surprised? ❞ whether the tone in her voice implied her joking or not. Was she surprised if people had? he didn't see how that could come off as news. He wondered if she was used to blending rather than standing out. ❝ What would give you that implication that I would hate it? ❞ he tilted his head, if they were neighbors, nothing he could do about that. ❝ Is that going to be a problem? ❞
"yeah," luz muttered. mobile orders tended to be the way to go at the rolling pin, but when she'd walked past today and had seen no line, she'd almost thought it was closed. "i mean, i don't mind getting to the front in no time now, but it makes me feel real fuckin' weird. what are you getting?"
"I'm getting a small chai tea latte." it was when she was in the mood for something simple. She rarely ever drank coffee. "you?" she looked around the cafe, people were moving at least.
"oh, lovely," she muttered, rolling her eyes to herself, "you're clairvoyant now, too." hani pushed a hand through her hair, propping her elbow up on the tabletop and leaning her cheek up on the palm of her hand. "you're lucky i'm actually hungry, because otherwise i'd really fucking delight in making you do all that work, mr. i-know-everything-that-happens-always-and-it's-never-not-an-inconvenience-to-me."
it felt like a foreign concept, that there would be a moment for them to simply sit and eat. without case notes spread between them, without throwing hypotheticals back and forth. minds not split five ways for a change. "it's fine," hani sighed. "let's not add a hotplate between the two of us, i feel like that could escalate really fuckin' quickly," she snorted.
A quiet chuckle escaped him, accompanied by a slow shake of his head. "Clairvoyant would imply I'm guessing." He rested his forearms against the table, regarding her with the kind of look that suggested he'd already anticipated this entire conversation before she'd even sat down. "I'm not." A faint smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "You've had coffee instead of an actual meal... what, three times this week?" Maybe four. He'd lost count. "So no, I don't know everything." A beat passed. "I just know you." The statement came simply, absent of any fanfare, as though it were the most obvious conclusion in the world. When she dubbed him Mr. I-know-everything-that-happens-always-and-it's-never-not-an-inconvenience-to-me, he let out a soft breath through his nose. "That's... a surprisingly long title." His brow lifted. "I'll need a business card." The teasing lingered for only a moment before his expression settled into something more relaxed.
"For the record," he continued, "if you weren't hungry, I probably still would've made you come." He reached for the menu, though he barely glanced at it. "Someone has to ensure you remember food exists." Looking back at her. "Now..." He closed the menu and set it aside. "Order something before I start choosing vegetables for you." There wasn't an ounce of doubt in his voice. "And I promise you'll dislike whatever I pick."
"No harm done." Christian catches the door before it can swing shut, holding it open with a slight inclination of his head and the smallest gesture inviting her through first.
He had thought about calling. More than once. Each time, he found a reason to postpone it until postponement itself became the reason. Now, standing opposite her, the silence he'd left between them felt strangely tangible, impossible to acknowledge without first explaining it.
Once they're inside, the warmth of the café folding around them, he finally says, "I imagine you've had an unforgiving week."
Seeing Christian again brought a quiet sense of relief. He was safe. Somehow, he'd made it through the chaos of that night. Their first meeting at the festival had been cut short before either of them had the chance to really talk. A small part of her had hoped they'd leave with at least one pleasant memory from it. Perhaps it simply wasn't meant to happen that way.
As they stepped into the café, the warmth inside eased some of the tension she'd been carrying in her shoulders.
❝ Ah... with how many people came through the emergency room that day... ❞ Her voice softened, trailing off as the memories resurfaced. She paused, glancing toward him with a thoughtful expression. ❝ ...Or were you talking about everyone we lost that night? ❞
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