VIHILUM / bait fishop.
Parties had a way of making her feel pretty out of place amongst her peers. Kate wasn’t shy by any means in a group setting, but she fluttered from conversation to conversation, hardly sticking around long enough to pitch in a different topic - when she did contribute, she was met with discouraging weird stares that didn’t relent until she retreated from their circle. It felt like a bad video game, and she kept losing points.
Maybe she didn’t have anything in common with anyone here.
It was hard to branch out when her inner circle was other lonely superheroes eager for a stake in the real world. It wasn’t all it was cracked out to be, but at least the playlist was a vibe - specifically when jimbo hijacked the set and that was when she really felt the tension crack amongst all the partygoers. When the music was good, it was easier for the conversation to be about nothing in particular.
She’d given up on idle chatter, posted up by the pool, head wavering side to side when she saw Jimbo making a beeline for the pool - she knew she was too late in offering a warning the second she laid eyes on him. He was propelling at the most impossible speed, that she hoped he wouldn’t concuss himself on the way in - luckily he didn’t, his landing splashing her in a mist of chlorine. He re-emerged, and she couldn’t help the fit of laughter that overtook her.
“Always know your exits,” it was advice she took herself
She knew this stunt - it was the oldest trick in the book. His hand reached for hers, and while she knew it was in her best interests to let him flounder on his way out, Kate never turned down someone when they asked for help.
“Pull me in,” her hand clasped around his, “and I won’t hesitate drown you.”
NO HORSEPLAY, reads a sun-faded sign along the perimeter. but this isn’t no play, officer poolside; this is serious business. ( you either drown or live long enough to see yourself become the life-guard. ) ‘ duh-ly noted. ‘ jimbo adopts a look of naïveté, knowing full well that what he’s saying is at once precocious and endearingly idiotic. he has a gift for being charming in the way that only boys raised in circuses can be, blinking at everything like the world is a dazzling and confounding stage. it helps build trust; most people can’t help but be wooed by clowns. it’s got a little to do with their whimsy and a lot to do their shameless deviance. kate strikes him as the type of girl who can’t walk by a wasp on the sidewalk without picking it up on a leaf, setting it down on the grass, and apologizing for the inconvenience. she understands the subtext of that shark-toothed smile of his and helps him anyway, not because she’s charmed, but because she understands the risk and chooses to be kind despite it. ( oh well, too bad! rookie move. you’ll learn today. )
‘ anyway ––– ‘ he hoists himself up with his elbow, fighting against the weight of the water just to get a second grip on her forearm. the look about his face becomes something dangerous, every tooth and freckle and reflection in his eyes a warning. ( GAME OVER, BISHOP. ) jimbo pulls her closer ––– too close, until their noses almost touch, and whispers his next words for her ears only. ‘ ––– always know whose hand you’re holding. ‘ it’s the oldest story in the book: a wink, a tug, and an anticipatory flinch at the splash to come. ( not since the holy motherfucking bible has anyone witnessed a betrayal of this magnitude. )
















