HEY, i think i just saw KAIA ZHAO walking down the strip. stop by to catch up and you’ll learn the THIRTY THREE YEAR OLD is working as a/an FOOD TRUCK OWNER & DIRTY CITIZEN FOR THE WEISS FAMILY and lives in SHADY DELL RV PARK. given they are MAGNANIMOUS but FANCIFUL, it’s likely that they ARE NOT a vampire. on the flipside, rumor has it that SHE'S INHERITED DEBT OWED TO THE WEISS FAMILY FROM HER FATHER'S GAMBLING ADDICTION AND RISKS LOSING THE FAMILY BUSINESS TO THEM and it keeps them looking over their shoulder. i bet you can find them tearing up the dance floor to STILL THEY RIDE - JOURNEY and you’ll know why they’re called THE FANTASIST.
trigger warnings for intro : dementia, heart attack, pregnancy, miscarriage
pinterest : link
Born as an only child, there was still no lack of love earned by her family from who two parents who didn't have a lot to provide her with financially but had plenty of adoration to present their daughter with, as well as an abundance of devotion for one another. While her family struggled during her childhood years, often having to move with little forewarning when evictions they thought they would be able to pay off at the last minute couldn't be met. There was no lack of work ethic in her family, but her mother was commonly restricted with mystery medical issues that as many doctor appointments as the family could spare still couldn't find an explanation for, leaving them with more bills while she was often too sick to work.
The family had at one time, when her mother's health was at its best, ran their own family restaurant, a local takeout and delivery place that served the family recipes her mother was so proud of and her father cooked up with excitement. Eventually, it would become too much to handle for the family, downsizing to the food truck that is now in Kaia's name, as her father could bare to give up his pipe dream of running his own food service but had his hand forced by the circumstances life had handed their family.
Other than frequently working at the restaurant, and then food truck later in her teen years, after school every day, which worked against the friendly teenager's blossoming social life, Kaia's childhood was one she would consider quite positive, but she had a bad habit of blocking out the moments from her memory that frequented her mother collapsing or impatiently waiting in a panic outside their small abode after having to call emergency services. That had always been a bad habit of Kaia's; her mind tended to morph reality to fit best what she wanted it to, instead of taking things at face value.
While her mother had scary moments that littered throughout the years, when their daughter was met with an opportunity of going away to college with the grace of a generous scholarship, they refused to hold her back despite her father then needing to balance his time between the truck and watching over his wife. With some apprehensions, Kaia would go, being the first to earn a college degree in her family and there meeting Cassandra Weiss, who she would become best friends with.
It was only when she would return home after graduating, that she would realize her father wasn't holding down the fort as he had implied on all their phone calls, but instead drowning in bills from both the business and the family, with seemingly no way of surfacing for a breath. It would be then that Kaia would make the decision to take a loan out from the Weiss family, figuring it trustworthy and their only saving grace. That loan would succeed in keeping them from having to close the truck and their business forever, but she hadn't thought through on what the affiliation would then mean: a large chunk of every month's profit going into the pocket of the powerful family.
Her mother's medical issues would worsen; she was diagnosed with early on-set dementia, and despite the best efforts made by Kaia and her father, she needed constant aid that they weren't able to provide. Not long after her mother was moved into a facility that provided her constant care, a month later her father would pass away from his own heart attack. Running the food truck for nearly fourteen hours a day had left him exhausted, though, if anyone ask their daughter, it was pure heartbreak she would blame for his death.
Despite these tragedies, they continue on with their life, now keeping the food truck alive for the sake of it being what her parents always took so much pride in, and as she is still on the Weiss' lists of debts. She's been in a longstanding relationship with Drake Hawkins, having written him up a letter while he was serving his time behind bars and falling for his written word, only falling further when he was released. The two have been trying for a baby of their own for some time, but the complications they face mean they've yet to be able to succeed.
Nikitha had her arms crossed, letting the sounds and sensations wash over her as if in doing so she could stretch her awareness to encompass everything within the boxed in space. She counted up to a hundred, sifting through memories and impressions. Then when she had, she let out a long breath. For good measure she breathed in again, held it there for four seconds, and then let it all out, emptying her lungs of anything that could hold her back.
It didn't truly happen, but it felt like her vision cleared, like everything was brought back into hyper focus. She did this once every time she entered a new space, centering her to the present. Because the past was a heavy cloak that needed to be lifted off her shoulders and dropped, only to be donned as soon as she left for a new place.
"Are there bets going on on the bull riders?" she asked, face remaining still as she turned to the hyped up audience. "Or is it over so quickly that nobody has the time." She slipped both hands into the pockets of her bomberjacket and started counting again, a hit for every criminal she saw. Tonight was not the night she found intell, but it was hard to break this new habit. She knew how to bide her time, she'd learned patience from the best. "We could bet between the two of us?"
KAIA HADN'T BEEN PARTICIPATING IN THE CHEERS OR BOOS, depending on what was going on inside the padded ring the mechanical bull sat in the center of, practically a spectator to the crowd that had gathered around it as much as they were to the main event itself. It was interesting to say the least, and they couldn't help but try and imagine whether their partner had taken in the same sight at any point during his evening, only further leading the thought of whether the head of the Weiss family would be equally amused with such a spectacle, though such a thing was near impossible to imagine. This type of night out was hardly what they would top their list with a fun time being, though as much as they did wish to be on the collecting side of all the profit that they could only imagine being made by food vendors, they would be remiss to say it was nice to be outside the four walls of the food truck that could begin to get stuffy once they had worked over nine days straight within them. "Oh, I'm not much of the betting type. Ironic place for me to live, huh?" The rhetorical question was meant as a joke, soothing over the bitterness that any sort of gambling left over the surface of their tongue. No, after all the mud their father's gambling addiction had left the cook in, paying back a debt they only inherited and hadn't even gotten to reap the enjoyment of accruing, there was no such chance they would try laying down money themself. Surely, her father had tried that himself only to dig himself further deeper into the hole. "But if I were, I would say anyone in that line stumbling about is someone I wouldn't want to put my money on. "Besides, how do I know you don't have a friend who's a mechanical bull riding pro standing in line right now?" This was meant as an even bigger joke, as they would never presume someone was trying to swindle them. Perhaps if they had been a bit more skeptical of all things, they never would have shaken hands to enter a Weiss deal. Then again, if they weren't so starry eyed, they may never have taken a chance on a criminal behind bars who turned out to perfect for them, either. "That's a joke, though I think I've been burned by enough bets for a lifetime. I'm only here to watch...no matter if the last few that had hopped on were a bit disappointing. I would think more people would be able to last more than fifteen seconds, provide a bit more entertainment."
jibril stares at the mechanical bull in front of him, watching as other patrons try and fail to stay on it. they've never seen this sort of ride in person, only ever heard of it, so this was new to them. from what they could tell, the objective was staying on for a certain period of time. jibril had never considered himself one to back down from a challenge, so this seemed like a perfect opportunity.
he looks at one of the people in the crowd, making sure he understands the purpose of the ride. "so...is there some kind of prize for if you don't get thrown off?" they ask, voice soft with a little hesitance. "have you ever ridden one of these before? is it hard?"
NEEDING TO SEND THEMSELF AWAY from the selection of foods lest they spend their entire night nitpicking the presentation, taste, and creation of each and every one, and inevitably only further drive themself insane, Kaia had instead decided a better form of entertainment while they waited for their partner to chaperone around the head of the Weiss family to be watching people wipe out on the rickety contraption shaped as a bull. "Actually, I'm not sure. I would think they'd be offering something to whoever has the longest time remaining on it, but I haven't seen a prize advertised anywhere, not that I was looking for one. Judging by the lines at the bar, though, I'd say there's enough people just tipsy enough to be convinced to climb on without the promise of a prize." The cook had been mindfully sipping one of the themed cocktails, if only to numb their annoyance, but would likely switch over to something to soda after one or two. Getting drunk wasn't on their menu for the evening, or rarely ever. "Oh, uh, no, not personally. I know plenty of the themed bars in Vegas have them year round, though. I've always been too afraid that once I go flying off, knowing me, I'd manage to land on my arm or hand wrong and hurt something, putting me out of work for God knows how long. I'm sure it's all padded in there, but just imagine...one limb bent the wrong way on a crash landing and it's game over for trying to work with your hands." Wincing as the current participant had their own round ended, thankfully without the type of landing they had just described, their gaze turned to the brunette. "Not to talk you out of it, or anything. I'm sure that rarely happens."
lauryn + ??? : may 30, day @ the doll house burlesque club
@boneyardstarters
rodeos weren’t a thing lauryn attended. in fact, she’d never been to a rodeo before, but it reminded her of the times when she would go to coney island. or just to central park to spend a day there. sure, it was a big city like vegas, but it felt like a small town, seeing these businesses come together and make something unique and fun. she was dressed her very best for the occasion, an all denim ensemble with cowboy boots and the hat to match. but something she knew, was dancing. sunday morning clean ups in the nears home made for a family bonding that always seemed to end up in dancing around the living room and singing into brooms. she had music in her life again, but in a different way. cosmix was something she loved, let's be real. she loved coming up with melodies and figuring out slant rhymes that would make jay-z proud. but at times, she missed just singing and dancing for the fun of it. she had those moments with the girls, but they were few and far between. she found herself in the burlesque club, sipping on a homemade lemonade and watching the dancers, trying to maneuver her feet the same way the more competent dancers did. these cowboy, west coast line dances were something that lauryn wasn’t used to. sure, it had been a few years since she properly danced, but she wasn’t afraid to try. settling down her lemonade, she turns to a person sitting at a nearby table. “join me for a dance? or are you one of the ones with two left feet who can’t keep a tune?” her tone is playful as she tips her hat towards them and extends a hand.
KAIA WAS, ADMITTEDLY, SALTIER THAN THE BAG of popcorn they had earlier picked up from Cupid's Arrow, and for once it had nothing to do with their partner being on the clock for the evening. Instead, the annoyance had arose from the fact that they weren't working that night and couldn't manage to score a way of getting their own business involved with the event. So many people all in one place was practically a goldmine just waiting to be tapped into for a food truck, especially when it was added in that alcohol involved meant her filling, homemade recipes would've been an effortless sell, but instead they hadn't managed it and the closest streets were closed for the function, meaning it would've been impossible to get a street spot that was close enough to be noticed by all the foot traffic. Shoulders drooped again as another two pieces of popcorn (notably, less impressive than anything they could make) were deposited in her mouth, eyes upon the dancers who seemed to be enjoying the night and catchy country music. Eyebrows rose when the other piped up from the closest table, needing a moment to clarify what they had said over the guitar and pounding steps upon the floor. "Huh? Sorry, it's definitely a real--what is it they'd say, 'hootenanny'?" An attempt at a smile was made but it barely made it past the very corner of their lips. "Oh, I'll dance with you. Wouldn't say I'm the best, but I think I know my way around a little bit of rhythm. Guess I should finish this popcorn first, though, what with cowboys and bandits running around." They offered it to her from across the space between the tables. "Want some yourself? I have to be honest, it's not actually very good. Real artificial butter taste and all." Not that they were biased or anything.
with: @resilicncies
where: shady dell rv park
when: late february 1997
"I have to get going again." There was an apology threaded into his voice, reserved for his lover alone, when he pulled back the comforter and inevitably disturbed their beauty sleep. "I don't think I'll be back anytime soon." In fact, it must have been less than an hour ago that he had laid his head down, and incredibly dubious that he had managed to complete a full REM cycle. Drake was already in the midst of popping a couple of B12 supplements from the aluminum-wrapped packages he'd picked up at the Cartwheel Convenience drugstore, in the vain optimism that it would shock his system with enough adrenaline to pull through another shift.
This time, it wasn't Romi's lack of picking up her landline that alerted him to go looking — the call came from up the ladder, and he presumed it had something to do with the inclement wedding; the Weiss patriarch didn't want to hear that his daughter had pulled a grandiose scandal and stolen the fifteen minutes of spotlight and newspaper and air time that they were going to gobble up from the lavish spectacle. Rubbing a hand across his eyes after he'd swallowed the supplements dry, he reached behind him to massage Kaia's arm. "You don't have to get up, I'll be quiet while I leave. Is there anything I should pick up for you on the way home?"
THEY COULD FEEL IT the minute he had pulled away, that that horrid hour was upon them when the two of them would be pulled apart to start their days, and they tried to swallow down the sigh that was on the cusp of their lips just at the thought of Drake crawling out of bed. "Mm, are you sure you didn't read the clock wrong and you maybe have five or ten more minutes?" She asked in vain, a valiant effort to what she knew would possibly be a failing cause. How he stuck to his word was a trait they would always find appreciative, especially how many prison penpals were dropped when the recipient found freedom, but he had never made them feel that way. Every single promise he ever made to them was kept, no matter how goofy; it was one of the aspects she adored about him most. The heel of their hand rubbed against their eyes, finally turning their gaze on him. "I know you're going to say no, but maybe just this time you can fool me and say yes when I ask you to stay in bed longer?" It was a possible hopeless question and yet their arms wrapped around him a bit tighter to encourage his thought on it. "I hate hearing that, that you'll never be back soon. If you're going to be gone that long, at least let me make you some food to take with you first." It was how they knew to show love best, to send it off with a meal. Pushing up on an elbow, their fingers wrapped around his arm before he could fully escape their bed. "I wanna get up and make you something. It'll make going to sleep easier for me if I know you have something." they promised, knowing the truth in it but also trying to play to his emotions to fall in their favor, as they stretched their legs from where they were comfortable in bed. "What sounds good to you? If you're going to be forced out of bed in the middle of the night, I can at least send you off with something. You know I'm not gonna rest if you leave here with no food."
kansas + ??? : may 4, early morning @ jeff's joe
@boneyardstarters
there was no rest for the wicked—or, at least, that's what kansas was always preached. it wasn't so rare to find them occupying a space in vegas' smaller owned establishments at ungodly hours, whether it be light or dark out. oftentimes, they were crouched in a corner over their notebook and laptop, their pager on standby beside a tall black coffee which disgusted them as much as it supplied them an ample amount of energy to continue working. that morning, now occupying the bar so they could more easily get refills on their coffee, kansas was adamant on solving the mystery of one man's infidelity. they were hired by a housewife who was oftentimes dismissed as histrionic, though, kansas could tell by the desperation glinting in her eyes that she had a suspicion found on real clues she couldn't decipher herself. those kinds of cases may not have been as exhilarating as the missing person ones, but they still found a rush of adrenaline in upending bad men's lives regardless of the capacity. besides, they'd found more scandalous secrets hiding from the wife; like the money embezzled from his work to pay for the mistress' cartier necklace and bracelet purchased on the thirtieth of april mere days ago. juicy. while dancing their nimble digits over the keyboard, they eventually dug up the man's bank information and slammed a fist on the countertop. "got you, bitch!" they exclaimed, only snapping out of it when they noticed someone that'd come to sit beside them now staring instead of approaching more. "... uh, my bad. just... got an email?" they guessed to say. clearing their throat, they swept away all their notes from where they overlapped. "you can still sit. i'll, um, use my inside voice. want a coffee? i've still got some spare change for another cup."
MAJORITY OF THE TIME, Kaia ate from her own food supply, mostly the remnants of what she was otherwise cooking up within the truck, reminiscent of how she watched her dad eat the scraps of his own handmade dough when there wasn't enough for a whole dumpling. But there were times when even she wanted something not cooked up by her own hands, especially so if there was time in her morning to drop something off to her boyfriend who was destined to less late nights now, but not none at all. Today's choice for him was an everything bagel with strawberry cream cheese and an iced coffee, though when she was going to grab it from the pickup area, they had practically knocked over the coffee instead, somehow managing to find enough footing to save it after half of it had spilled out onto the floor counter next to the person who exclaimed. "Crap," they mumbled, blinking up at the apology. "You're okay. Sounds like it had to be a hell of an email, though. Or you're the most joyous person I've ever seen when looking at their inbox," they joked before clearing their throat. "I would honestly love to sit, especially if it means I get to know about what has you so excited, but I got a sleepy someone I need to get breakfast to. Do you think they'll remake this iced coffee for free or make me buy a new one? I wouldn't care if I was just planning on drinking it myself, but I'm so gonna get shit for stealing most of it for myself if I bring it like this."
with: @resilicncies
where: the doll house burlesque club
when: early april
April was aflutter with a congestion of tourism and gawking faces huddling around the ticket booth for the Doll House. It was overwhelming, but not as overwhelming as partaking in the spectacle of singing, dancing, and flirting their way through an audience. Arms crossed when there came a lull in the patrons coming in, a shadow cast over the notebook in front of them in the dying sun. Journaling was a hobby that didn't particularly inspire them, but recommended by their therapist to work through the thoughts of what was daunting about easing their way back into a functional member of society — so far it felt objectively pointless, and a state-issued support person who was being paid the bottom of the barrel to listen to all their woes probably couldn't give less of a shit about her. Mocha hues peeking upwards from the pages where their thoughts had drawn a blank, Ivy said flatly, "We're closed for tickets right now. The next show is in like, an hour." They didn't bother craning their head to scan for the time on the wall clock directly behind their back. "You can pay in advance, if you wanna come back later. Got a name for that?"
GOING THROUGH HER FATHER'S BELONGINGS that had been left in her care was an activity she had promptly put an end to when it had brought his gambling debt to her attention; Kaia hadn't held it against him, but if they were entirely honest, it was practically the checkpoint where everything began going downhill, especially when those debts were ones that had been handed down the family line to land in her own lap. (As if she hadn't been struggling enough to keep a food truck business surviving without his expertise and her head above water when it came to paying bills for a full time care facility for her mother.) Alas, there wasn't an abundance of space in an RV that was housing two people, and hopefully soon to be a guard dog, and holding onto more of the meaningless clutter wasn't doing anyone any good. What they didn't expect was to happen upon even more secrets their father was seemingly keeping, but when there were pictures of a baby, clearly not themself, they knew they had to get to the bottom of it. There was a sense of betrayal, but harboring bitterness towards her father when he had already left the world would do them no good. Instead, they set out on a search for the child he failed to keep in contact with, choosing to right it herself if he never had. "Oh, I'm not interested in a ticket. I was actually looking for an...Aiying? Does someone of that name work here?" Calling around had provided a work place but their hands had failed to get on a picture besides that of when they were young. "Last name Chia?"
⠀⠀⠀⠀──ˋˏ ★ with @boneyardstarters
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ WHERE: 𝘙𝘈𝘛𝘛𝘓𝘌𝘚𝘕𝘈𝘒𝘌 𝘗𝘈𝘞𝘕 𝘚𝘏𝘖𝘗
the pawn shop had been open for two hours. two hours of nothing—no sound of the bell dinging to announce others, no phone calls to appraise old engagement rings, not even a delivery package from a postal service member. boring, old, nothing was happening to him, and he had almost convinced himself to close up and call it a day. slow business was the perfect excuse to retire to the single bedroom he kept, renounce an unremarkable lunch, and catch up on some baseline downtime.
but productivity stretched its ugly claws and sank into his shoulders after his eyes scanned one of the watches in the display case refusing to tick.
the entrails of said watch were laid out on the counter in no time as the tiger shark began to try and diagnose an issue in its functioning. he was so engrossed in making it work that he hadn’t noticed the person at the counter, staring at him.
if he was another being entirely, it might have jump-scared him.
instead he rolls his neck—slightly sore from hunching over the watch—and sighs. “you’ve been standing there long?”
his attention drags itself out of the mechanism, and it takes a moment for the room to reassert itself as something he has to participate in.
“didn’t hear the bell. that’s either impressive or a problem." a pause. "better not make it a habit…”
LIVING IN AN RV DIDN'T LEAVE KAIA with as many complaints as perhaps the average person would have surrounding it, though even they could relent that it had left a lot to be desired when it came to the topic of storage. They had been holding onto a bit too much of the leftover belongings of their parents; there were some items of theirs that the cook couldn't part with but majority of it was junk that was collecting dust and taking up prime real estate she should have been dedicating to her boyfriend's possessions. Considering the financial strains they were under, though, she refused to just throw them thoughtlessly in the dumpster, exactly how she had ended up in the pawn shop with a cardboard box in her arms full of an array of items, high hopes that some money could be scrounged up from at least some of it. The person behind the counter seemed deeply focused, leading her to stand idly by despite her arms beginning to exhaust from the weight they were holding, wobbling when he finally looked up at her. "Five minutes, maybe?" It felt like longer when her thin arms were struggling, finally pushing the box onto the counter with a breath of relief. "I think it rang..." Though now she was questioning her own memory of it, not paying much attention in the moment when entering. "I have some things to sell. Do you guys take watches? I'm not sure if any of them are worth much, or work, but the metal it's made of has to be worth something, right?"
location: the weiss wedding
time: march 20, 1997
open starter @boneyardstarters
The wedding was driving everyone mad - and honestly? Rightfully so. Half of the attendees seemed prepped to run at a moment's notice, and the other half seemed eager for something to go down. And go down did it ever. Raphael could sense the plastered-on smiles hiding the stress of Romi's meltdown and prompt exit.
Luckily, that barely concerned him. Raphael was stationed as a dutiful guard back in one of the hallways. He had half a mind that it led to some sort of kitchens, given the occasional person dressed in black (with proper credentials, of course) who pushed past him giving him dirty looks. It was a simple enough post, he had to admit, even if it was a touch dull. He had heard about Romi's speech through the cracks and whispers, rather than being in the banquet hall itself - but hey. He was a relatively new recruit into the ranks of the Weiss' entourage, so it was fitting that he would have a boring post.
Raph lounged against a wall, but quickly popped back up to attention as someone not in proper blacks poked their head around the corner. "Bathroom's down the hall behind you," he called out. "Unless you're coming to bring me something fun."
CONSIDERING THE VAGUENESS OF THE NOTE that was left for them, Kaia wasn't entirely sure what their move was expected to be. Were they being asked to simply start a rumor and hope it reached as many ears as possible that it would turn into a serious allegation? Their sociality only went so far, but that was something they considered themselves capable of. Or was a name expected to be submitted in some informal nature? Stepping out of the crowded setting of the party to get a moment of peace for a thought to themselves, wandering down the spiraling halls of the Weiss Manor only seemed to leave them more confused, especially when they hadn't left room on their mind to track every turn they had made. Looking behind themself, only what was to be found was glossy and immaculate halls, they jumped only slightly to turn back towards the direction of the voice, eyebrow arching. "Are you expecting something fun?" If it was coded speak, it was lost on them, unless this was the person they were meant to be speaking to. "Thanks for the directions, though. Do you know how to make it back to where the reception is being held? I wasn't paying attention; this place is a bit of a maze if you don't know it well."
Drake didn't desire to be one of the birds, as the saying went. Shrubbery shaped into animals and hearts and filet mignon that cost more than their grocery shopping trips rang as hollow to him as the sermons of his father. It would be a pretty dream for the two of them to accomplish a little more than ekeing by on the seat of their pants every time the bills rolled in, or someone came collecting another monthly payment for their various debts, but there wasn't a thing in the world that he would have traded if it meant it would have altered the trajectory that brought them together. A plexiglass wall between them and all. Kaia had that look in their eye that they shared when something in the food truck broke for the fiftieth time, and they were working overtime inside their own head to reassemble the moving parts back together. The optimism that they brought into the relationship unpacked the terrible habit of clouding his judgement with pessimism before the concrete outcome could present itself — they were a seesaw of balancing one another out. Somehow, they knew the right words to say that coaxed the remnants of irascibility to flee from the corners of his expression, and managed to draw a smile out of him. There was never guarantee that everything would be okay, but a silent promise that it would all work out in the end — it didn't have to be fine and dandy, in the moment. "I guess that's all we can do," Drake chipped in, reciprocating his partner's trysts to shave levity onto the situation at hand. Taking a drag from the cigarette before he answered was permissible for her words to truly sink in and settle underneath the red-hot iron of his temper. "I don't know yet. I might have to go around and see if anyone needs a bodyguard."
He reached out a hand to lightly pinch their lips together, as if to stop them from speaking anything else into existence. "We're practically halfway to a common-law marriage, I'm not going to let you drown alone." Besides, he wouldn't think of himself as much of a partner if he left her alone to bear the burden herself. Perhaps neither of them could afford the life they deserved, but they could get on with the life that they did have. Watching Kaia sink to the ground as if gravity had forced them to it, he was troubled with letting go of the thought that something was pestering their mind — they had had the conversation of each other's responsibilities and roles before, and something was amiss about this one. Unable to put his finger on it, Drake opted to shuffle forward and lower himself down onto the pavement beside her, a hand sliding up her thigh to rest on her knee, imploring, "K, I love your mother, and I would never let you deal with any of that alone. Did someone say something to you about our debt?" It seemed like a rude topic to bring up at the wedding, but the Weisses weren't known for saving face like the Vitelli family — the family's dirty laundry was practically an open secret and friendly fire had been overheard at the dinner mere moments before he had stepped out. "Or... we can talk about it now." Without the pretense of muscular atrophy impending from stressors, palms spread flat against the concrete, the look that he gave her would put puppy dogs to shame. "Unless you don't want to. We could take a walk around the garden."
A handed carded underneath their chin, moreso a reminder that he was there than a wish for them to turn their head. Many eves outside their RV were spent in lawn chairs, consumed by the unobstructed view of the stars or spying on their transient neighbors in silence, bundled up together. Their simple living may have been apples and oranges to anyone else at the reception, but he'd like to think it had twined together two people closer than the sheer relationships that any of the socialites were putting on their masquerade for that evening. "We could ditch and go home, too. No one's going to be after me now that Romi's been thrown out, I suppose. Your choice." His hand slid into hers, another drag stolen from his cigarette in the opposite hand.
KAIA NEVER HAD A LOT OF ANSWERS. If they did, the two of them probably wouldn't have been caught up in a lot of the shit that seemed to creep up around their ankles and suck them in, figuratively except for the one unfortunate experience of not setting the RV plumbing up correctly at the park that was now their home, nor would money be owed each month from a business that didn't exactly have it to spare, no matter the hard work she put in. If anything, her bright side optimism seemed to oft lead them astray more than anything else, as they would always see the best possible outcome first while forgetting to weigh the risks. But if there was one avenue where such hadn't happened at all, where her sanguinity had been proven true by reality, it was by the one man standing in front of her, no matter how many warnings they had waved off like a pesky fly and refused to listen to about how diving right headfirst into a romance before he had even gotten out from behind bars. (They were given plenty of well-intentioned advice against even starting the letters in the first place, and yet from the first one, they could feel the chemistry rolling off the page, which was why despite the tight quarters of the mobile home, every single one had been kept throughout the years.) If their fanciful tendencies had brought them the one best thing in their life, then they had no regrets about following them every time, as that made every other mishap worth it, as long as it didn't pose any detriment to their relationship or his happiness. Earning a smile out of him despite the rolling currents of anger the night had brought him also made them feel less ridiculous about having no better answer, though it wouldn't last long when the admittance of what her own grievances of the night were. "There has to be someone; it is Vegas after all. And judging by all the people wearing outfits that look like they're off a runway, maybe they're closer than we think. Networking and all that." Not that she knew much about that.
Dutifully going mum, not that Drake had really left her with much other option, there was reassurance to be found in the vow. "I'm just saying, you're not exactly tied to all this like that." At least, not in the way she was with the gambling debt of her own father, only discovered after his death, had left her. "But I was kinda hoping we were more like...seventy five percent of the way there," was her follow up made out of jest, no interest in metaphorically pushing him away with her mentions, not if he had wanted to stand within the mess as long as it was beside her. There was a wince when he mentioned loving her mother, only bringing her biggest concern of the night back to the forefront of her mind. "No, not that. Or, I don't think it's related." Not that they were given much to go off of when it was a single two sentenced note and one of those sentences was to only inform them of what exactly was on the line. His rounded eyes and pout truly made it impossible for her to continue to try and weasel her way out of informing him, not that she would have lasted long regardless when secrets weren't something that existed between them very often, or at all. "I just don't want to add more to your plate tonight." Their gaze fell away from his face, though, a sigh leaving from their lips to take a moment to figure out the best words to make an explanation. "I don't think I'm allowed to leave yet." At least, not without suffering some sort of consequences. As far as they were concerned, they just wanted to do whatever the instructions said and keep their hide safe, at least for now. "Someone's threatening my mom if I don't do what they say." She reached to unclip her clutch, pulling out the note to hand over to him without another word, as it was easiest to paint a full picture in that way simply. "That's all I have, or I guess, all I know. Just only that being left for me with an envelope with my name on it." Without the heavy cardstock in their hands, they instead clutched onto his. "There's no real option but doing what it says."
Zakir thought weddings were beautiful. Whether it was because he had gone to his fair share both at home and here, or because his parents had married for love, he did not know. But he found himself basking in the luxury of the celebration. He’d taken out his notebook far too many times to write down small details and phrases. And he found himself to be exceptionally romantic. He felt the need to confess his undying love to someone. Anyone really. To serenade somebody - he’d seen Alice around but he instead tried to avoid her.
However, the pink cloud he was on quickly dissipated when Romi Weiss finished her speech. Zakir bit his lip and frowned as if he’d just eaten a sour apple.
“It doesn’t matter how fine the words are, if you fail to perform, they cannot save you,” he commented, mostly out of awkwardness for the speaker. “Not everyone is a born speecher,” he added.
IT WAS POSSIBLE THAT KAIA WAS the only person in the audience who wasn't wide-eyed and slack-jawed by the time Romi was pulled from the stage, and it was true that the chosen words had taken her by surprise as anyone else, especially considering the concerned words she had been hearing from her partner over the past few weeks. However, the card left for her was the larger issue still sitting center mind, one foot tapping anxiously against their other ankle, all romantic energy and pink clouds sucked straight out of the air the moment their fingers had opened the small envelope. Someone else at the table speaking up had their head popping up from where it was focused on their lap, grin latching onto their lips, albeit a weary one. "I'm not sure I would even describe her words as fine. Considering all she said, I'm not exactly sure her problem was the public speaking part; she seemed to have no lack of confidence to get up there and announce all of that." If that was what the blonde was willingly to say in front of a crowd this large, Kaia could only wonder what more her partner had to deal with her going on about just to his ears. No wonder he was crawling into bed exhausted and drained. "I haven't been to many weddings, but I think the key to making embarrassing speeches is to wait until everyone has had a few, or many, more drinks in them. I'm surprised no one else from the family has gotten up to give maybe...a more romantic one? I honestly don't know the couple like that to do so myself."
The piece of paper burned in his jacket pocket, demanding his attention and immediate action but Enders simply sat there fixated on the centerpiece in the middle of his table. Processing the words he read over and over again, as if he hoped they’d dance across the page and spell something else entirely. Certainly it was all some kind of a joke, no? Someone’s sick idea of a joke because out of all people to throw into a mess like that, Ender would have easily placed himself at the bottom of the list. He didn’t go around messing in anybody’s business long enough to make his presence known unless he was helping close wounds. He wasn’t even sure what arson was being mentioned, but the threat still felt too real to disregard. Too pressing and personal for him to bring up to anybody else, though…
There was another name on his paper that he could approach. Someone who seemed to have been thrown at the lions right alongside him, and who he barely even knew. Pushing away from his table then, Ender decided to find out where she was. Having had his own envelope for a good thirty to forty minutes by then, it seemed only rational that she would have received one too. Otherwise why mention her in his letter? “ Hey, uh - you got a moment? ” he said, motioning with his head for her to step away from her table and accompany him elsewhere. Ender didn’t linger to see if she’d follow, he merely turned on his heel to find a safe place to speak without a clue of how he’d even bring up the stupid letter. Its presence alone still burnt a hole in his pockets, making each step he took more nerve-wracking than the last.
THE THANK YOU CARD SITTING AT HER SEAT was one she thought to be customary as just another thoughtful detail put into the wedding that was seemingly full of them, but curiosity had immediately taken her when she realized no similar one had sat at her boyfriend's next to her nor at any others at her table when eyes peered around at the rest of the placed plates and silverware. Kaia hadn't any inkling why she would be singled out for gratitude; quite frankly, she didn't think the bride nor groom would even recognize her by face but only by the familiar named that signed checks made out to the Weiss family once a month containing approximately half the food truck's earnings. Answers—and plenty of more questions—were revealed once she had opened it, and her stomach dropped like a lead weight right through them at the words on the thick card stock, eyes glancing around her as if she expected someone to pop right out at her and give her further explanation. Stuffing it into the clutch was her only option, as if getting it out of sight would somehow solve the issue of it temporarily.
Drake running after the commotion Romi had caused left her alone at the table, everyone else seemingly caught up conversation to discuss what had just occurred on stage while her own mind reeled on what exactly she was supposed to do in response, a blank stare ahead covering up shooting thoughts on who would want to drag her mother into anything, a woman who couldn't even get up in the morning without aid from a nurse as she had lost cognizance of what a morning routine even was. Ender's appearance shouldn't have been surprising, as they were seemingly in this endeavor together, but she was startled nonetheless due to the target she was unaware was present on her back. "Of course." Excusing herself from the table, she dutifully followed without another word until the pair was in a more private spot without any other ears to take notice of their conversation. After a brief, awkward, beat of silence, she said abruptly, "I have no idea what any of this means." Possibly not a great start, which prompted her to continue, "I assume you got one, too. This?" She asked after rummaging through small clutch to pull back out the card and hold it up for him to read. "Nobody would...joke about something like this, right? It must be serious. We have to do this." Sure, there could be a wicked sense of humor streaming through a party half made of criminals, but there wasn't any part of this that seemed funny. Either way, she didn't want to find out the hard way whether the threat was true or not.
The spectacular implosion of the youngest Weiss, and stability of Hawkins-Zhao household's financial standing, was an avalanche waiting to happen. It was a slow, silent killer — like scaling toward the ziggurat of Everest and failing to hear the ominous collapse of snow banks until the last second over the howling of the wind and the baying of the creatures that called it home. As people who were on lower rungs of the family, and not directly related by blood nor marriage, they were expendable pieces on the board of chess. It was something that Drake had come to accept a long time ago, preferable to the suffocating four walls of the church and the lonely pews that he would sit in after hours, picking at his fingernails and thinking of the other side of the stained glass windows, and how unnoticeable his absence might go. Or if he would litter the back of milk cartons in local grocers of their little corner of the Midwest, taunting southern belles shopping for their own children with the perils of stranger danger and some grand, fabricated tale of disaster. It had already been an impressive feat for the bodyguard to maintain consciousness during the ceremony — once the other shoe had fallen down, he was wide awake and steam rolling out of his ears like fog off the water of the swampy marshes that had once been home. Focusing on any of the festivities was an impossible ask, everything becoming background noise to the all-consuming drama that had been laid out.
He permitted for his partner to take him by the arm and tug him back outdoors, far enough ousting the city limits that a few stars might be seen. The wonderment of the vast vacuum of space didn't curb the melancholy that the evening had espoused, and he fished in his pockets for a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. The silent offer of a cigarette passed between them before the gift of spoken word, her chaste voice punching a hole through the dolor. "We need money and I don't have a job anymore," he blurted out without forethought, a refreshing change to how he otherwise operated, "What are we supposed to do?" Eventually, someone would be assigned to him, or he would agree to be contracted to another person in the family — it was a matter of time, as it wasn't Drake who had forfeited the family's trust in him. However, they were left scrambling to ransack the cushions of their bedraggled, saggy futon for coins to cover the cost of the laundromat, and then some, until then. Supplying food for the truck wasn't cheap. The nursing home was astronomical. The debt that she was in was a flood that scattered the belongings of their RV. The coupling was adrift, and had only one another — for all their loyalty to the Weisses, they were the two people who remained to cheat their way to their own survival. "I'm trying to think of ways to make it work..." A thumb and forefinger pressed against his temple, the bated breath of smoke from the cigarette reaching for the sky. "You look pale. Did someone say something to you?"
THIN FINGERS PULLED A CIGARETTE FROM THE OFFERED PACK, though it sat unlit between them for too long, wishing they could rather set a flame to the note that was burning a hole in the small purse at her side, empty only for that, an expired lip gloss, and a tampon, which was an ugly reminder in its own right. The voiced concerns were to be expected, and they probably could have known of the existence of them on Drake's mind without even receiving an answer to her questions, though his voice had ribbons of guilt tying themselves around her heart and pulling into knots. Majority of their financial issues had her name signed on the dotted line, and watching the stress born of prevalent on his own face didn't make her feel good, much less like a good partner when she was dragging him down with her in the issues that existed before letters were exchanged behind bars. She was stuck between a rock and a hard place: the care her mother required wasn't a choice made easily but there was no safe way for a single person to take care of her alone, nor even when her father was alive was it easy for two people when her mind had been reduced and a lack of safety seemed to wait for her around every corner. (And that wasn't even including anonymous threats.) The food truck was her choice, as the possibility of scrapping the business altogether and getting a job with a more stable income existed, but the disservice it felt like it would be to her father and everything he worked so hard to craft up in their family name kept her chugging along with hope that whatever big break it would get was on the horizon somewhere. Or maybe that was foolish hope created to defend the way her hands were clutching to keep hold at the family memories that only existed in tangible form in the walls of the truck.
"It's not as if you were fired...she was." Okay, the latter two words were possibly unnecessary to add, as considering the way Kaia herself clung to the remnants of her family, she couldn't, and chose not to, imagine the devastation that could be brought about by being kicked out by one's own father, but there were many times before that she struggled to put herself in the blonde's shoes. What are we supposed to do? "Our best?" she offered with a raise of brows, half unserious before her shoulders drooped a bit as the unfounded hopefulness wasn't exactly going to fill their stomachs when they growled or keep the lights on. "Surely they'll just assign you to someone new, right? Or something else entirely?" Not that relying on such an assumption would truly keep them treading water, and she stepped away, dropping to sit upon one of the concrete, garden walls in pensiveness. "At least you can get a good night's sleep for now. But I don't have an answer for you right at this moment. You know, what's causing our money problems, it's not yours to deal with." One of them may have come out from behind bars, but it seemed that they had managed to outshoot him in the department of coming with baggage, by a long shot. "I wouldn't blame you if it's too much to deal with." Especially considering he hadn't even known the half of it. Eyes raising from the shrub sheared into a complicated design at the question, her head shook immediately, as if giving her time to come up with an excuse that only avoided the truth but didn't hide it. "About the commotion? No one said anything to me. I just think it's best if it's something we talk about later; you're dealing with enough right now."
i made you breakfast (i love you) hey would you wanna go try that new sweets cafe? (i love you) make sure you eat something, ok? (i love you) you were sad earlier so i wanted you to come home to something nice (i love you) would you wanna try cooking with me? (i love you) i made your favorite recipe (i love you i love you i love you)
