starter for // @jnkdrwr [ roland hewitt ] .
she’d always loved carnivals. not that she’d been to many—just a handful when she was little, back when her mama was still alive and the world hadn’t gone all strange and hollow. she remembered her daddy, sleeves rolled and determination set, trying every rigged game on the lot until he finally won not one, but two stuffed animals—one for her, one for baby caleb. a quiet victory, but it had lit her up like christmas morning.
so when the traveling fair rolled its way back into haven’s hollow, she wasn’t about to let the chance pass her by. nostalgia had teeth, and this memory was one she wasn’t ready to let get buried. surprisingly, caleb had seemed eager to tag along—until he caught sight of some friends and vanished into the crowd with barely a wave. typical. now it was just paige, cotton candy in hand, aimlessly wandering beneath strings of flickering bulbs and the scent of fried dough, letting her eyes scan over the booths in search of something that tugged at her.
the bottle toss. of course. it had always been her favorite—the satisfying clatter of glass on glass, the challenge, the sheer spite of it. she made her way over, planting herself in front of the stand with an easy grin.
“how much for a few rounds?” she asked, chin tipping up, gaze fixed on the absurdly large avocado plush dangling overhead. “or until I can win that,” she added, pointing up with a glint in her eye, smile cocked like a DARE. the fairground worker gave a short laugh, and as he moved, her gaze snagged on the tattoo inked across his shoulder—a tiny cupid drawn in fine lines, bow raised mid-flight. “cool tat,” she said, eyes flicking back to his with a casual sort of charm, amber-lit and bright beneath the strings of carnival light.













