#eldxrmckinley

[elderxprice]

@eldxrmckinley

The suit he wears is custom, costing him well into the thousand-dollar mark, but more than worth it. It fits impeccably, hugging each line and curve of Kevin’s body, ensuring his assets are accentuated. 

Normally, Kevin wouldn’t have bothered maxing out a credit card for the sake of a district reunion, but this one happened to call for it. He knows he’s walking into a wolf’s den; they didn’t even like him before; and now? --- well.  

Arnold told him to stay home; had begged him, even – but his pleas had the opposite effect, and Kevin found himself wanting to go even more.

I’ll show them, he thinks bitterly, fixing his tie as the elevator ascends sixty-four floors; - everything is fine now; just fine.

The doors open and Kevin emerges wearing the same, false smile he always does; the one that says: I’m okay, when the truth is he’s anything but. 

The last time Kevin Price was okay, he was nineteen years old, waiting to board the flight to Uganda.

A lifetime ago, by now.

The heels of his shoes click on the marble floor as he walks towards the private lounge; former District Leader Elder McKinley is apparently a famous Broadway actor, so he was able to pull some strings and rent a real nice space for his missionaries to coexist in. 

Civilly, with any luck.

And you’d think luck would be on everyone’s side, considering it’s been seven whole years, but the second Kevin pushes through the doors, he realizes he should have known better.

The few guys who look at him, do so with disdain and judgment; and maybe he deserves that, a little, but you think they’d be able to pretend for a handful of hours that Kevin is not the bad guy. 

Apparently not.

“Hello,” he says, offering a half-hearted wave, before sauntering off towards the bar. Someone – Neeley if Kevin had to guess – questions his decision considering; but his attention is soon diverted from Kevin as the man of the hour walks in, and everyone – literally everyone, but Kevin – swarms around him.

Hearing Connor’s voice after so long hurts; knowing he is purposefully being avoidant hurts even worse; but the most agonizing pain comes from the scar on Kevin’s shoulder, that throbs purposefully as Connor sits on Schrader’s lap.

It makes Kevin angry, how his fingers itch with possessiveness and a need to rip Schraders face off; and it makes him furious, that Connor seems to enjoy it. 

Don’t, he warns, tightening his hold around the gin and tonic. 

Looking over his shoulder, Kevin meets Connor’s gaze; his ex-lover was never very good at following directions, so Kevin wonders why he’s even surprised when Connor’s mouth meets Schrader’s in what very few would call an actual kiss.

Kevin projects his disgust, tapping on the bar for another drink, before he’s even finished the first one.

[a-mission-in-uganda]

@eldxrmckinley

Poptarts stared at the haunted house. Despite himself, he felt a shiver go up his spine. The blonde knew well enough that it was all fun and games and that no one meant anyone any harm.

Still, he hesitated going in. 

Mathias could feel -or thought he felt- stares from passerby's wondering if the short kid was going to go in or if he was just gonna make a line of people waiting for him to make up his mind.

[elderxprice]

@eldxrmckinley

It’s always the same routine: wake up, go to school, shovel family dinner down as quick as he can, and then stand here until eleven in the evening.

Here is a little convenience store a few blocks from Kevin's home, nestled between an indefinitely-closed Dry Cleaners and a King’s Wok.

Rafferty’s – stitched in yellow on his navy blue polo, just above the plastic name-badge that reads: KEVN. They forgot the “I” but the manager didn’t think it mattered all that much. It still sounds the same, had been all Mr Rafferty said, before dropping a set of keys on the counter and leaving for the night.

Kevin had been indignant at his name being deemed unimportant, and then even more so over feeling that way.

Our emotional health affects our spiritual and physical well-being; we must do our due diligence to safeguard our physical and emotional health so that we can fulfill our divine potential as a son or daughter of God.

Everyone living in the Old-Half has been subjected to that lecture.  Kevin received his at seven years old, when a Mr and Mrs Crosby from the Office for Emotional Health and Metrics showed up with a neon-green custom pill box adorned with his name in gold letters: KEVIN PRICE.

They’d spelled his name right.

The box was two rows deep; one labeled Monday through Friday, and one labeled with a Faces-Mood Scale, so at seven years old even Kevin could manage his own emotions.

You see Kevin, Mr Crosby had said; - if you feel like this frowny face looks, you just have to take one of whatever is inside. But just one, okay, son? It’s important to remember that.

Just one.

But Kevin takes at least three of those frowny-face pills per day to combat the stress of his everyday life. The blue ones. His father would condemn it for sure, but ---- Kevin works too hard, sleeps too little, and balances too much responsibility on his nineteen-year-old shoulders to get through the days without them.

He’d heard the word resistant used in conversations about him before; at the doctors, when Mrs Price thought her son was still too young to understand. 

You are perfect in every way, she used to whisper after tucking him in for the night. But Kevin doesn’t really believe that, anymore. People who are resistant aren’t perfect. They are labeled high-risk and watched. The security cameras scattered throughout Rafferty’s aren’t there for shoplifters; they’re there to monitor high-risk patrons, who pose a risk to everyone else.

Sometimes, Kevin thinks the only reason he hasn’t been labeled, is because of who his parents are; and if that’s the case, he’s glad for it. He knows how to behave, with or without the medication. And he isn’t completely resistant, anyway. It’s why he stopped taking the tiny little red ones, that look suspiciously like candy; because they made him feel uncomfortable, and sent his mind down a dangerous path it shouldn’t ever go down.    

“Whatever,” he sighs, leaning back against the counter. 

It’s a slow night, and a cold night; it hasn’t stopped raining since before he woke up, and there’s a stream of rainwater rushing down the sidewalk in front of the store. It soaked through Kevin’s Converse on his way in the door, and his hair fell shortly thereafter.

Three people have walked in since  his arrival: an elderly woman needing to use the bathroom; some kid who begged Kevin to turn the slushy machine on; and a man in a suit who drops a box of condoms, Benadryl, and licorice whips on the counter.

“Don’t ask,” the man says, handing over a twenty.  

“I wasn’t going to,” Kevin replies, stuffing the man’s change into the tip jar.  

Ten dollars and forty-five cents; he’ll get to take that home tonight, since he’s the only one closing.

Or, maybe I’ll just buy some Doritos. 

They are three aisles back, next to the Tampons and the windshield washer fluid. He stares at them for an absurdly long time, but --- deciding between Cool Ranch and Nacho Cheese isn’t all that easy when work is the only opportunity Kevin has to eat junk. His parents abide by the Word of Wisdom; so much so, that Kevin never had a taste of chocolate anything until he took this job. 

Mr Rafferty keeps a bowl of miniature Snickers in the break room; Kevin helped himself during orientation, and has been slowly working his way through the snack aisles ever since.

His fingers brush against the Cool Ranch just as the chime over the door starts to rattle. Kevin drops his hand, stepping back so he can see down the aisle. There is a boy standing there; drenched and hunched over, worryingly out of breath.

Oh great, Kevin thinks miserably. A drunk.

[elderxprice]

happy valentine’s day if you care about it (kevin doesn't)!

[elderxprice]

☕️ eldxrmckinley

send me  ☕️ for a mini playlist of our muses

divorce!au

Feitsh (feat. Gucci Mane) - Selena Gomez

Blades - FARR

In My Head - Peter Manos

I Still Wait For You - XYLØ

I Like Me Better (Cheat Codes Remix) - Lauv

on Spotify