delaneyliu

[delaneyliu]

‘nocturne op. 9 no. 2’ by chopin but you’re in a hotel lobby avoiding the rain on a cold night in an unfamiliar city, captivated by the soft piano music that reminds you of home. (youtube)

[delaneyliu]

DELANEY 📲 ANNABEL

DELANEY: Hey. I came by the hospital to visit Ángel, so I figured while I was there I could drop off the package that came to the house for you. I left it with Claudia at your station.

DELANEY: Thank you again for your help the other day. My hand is still killing me, but I know I would've been worse off if you hadn't been there.

[delaneyliu]

ÁNGEL EMMERSON.

“Hey now, I know you’re not calling Jan and Dawn bitches,” he teased, though her statement would be accurate for his bio parents. He could see the concern in her eyes and he wanted to reach out and embrace her so he could help it disappear. He was so grateful he couldn’t see himself, sure he looked like shit and even with his jokes he probably looked absent of the life and energy that usually poured out of him. “I was just trying to help, alright? I admit that I was a little drunk, if I wasn’t I would have been safer but,” he sighed, not really sure he could apologize beyond that. “Yeah and if they weren’t Jan would bring down hell on them so, it’s been good. The nurses are cute,” he added with a soft laugh and patted the spot on the bed next to him. “You gonna keep being mad at me or come give me a hug? I’m alive, D, I’m alive,” he repeated and met her eyes. “I’m gonna be okay.”

A whisper of a laugh slipped between Delaney’s lips at his inference that she’d insulted his mothers, her aunts. Ángel’s sense of humor was a mercy at a time like this, when every corner that was turned was met with disquieting news. She hated to see him like this, laid up in the hospital bed, surrounded by wires and machines. The fact that he’d compromised his own personal safety to aid others in a moment of crisis made her proud, but the cost of his efforts could have been so much more dire ⏤ that was the thought sitting in the forefront of her mind as she looked him over now, her smile widening as he made mention of the cute nurses. There were some things in this life that just couldn’t wear him down. “I can multi-task,” Delaney said, moving around the hospital bed to embrace him, tapping his cheek lightly with the open palm of her uninjured before she hugged him. “Don’t ever do this again. I’m getting older; my heart can’t take it,” she said, pressing a kiss to his temple. “And now we have to get you some new Nike pants. Do they still make breakaway pants? We should get you some.”

[delaneyliu]

SANEM REID.

In hindsight it was probably one of the last places she should be, and really it wasn’t as if she had a formal plan to pop in anyway. Being at home too much had begun to make her fidgety, of course she had Isaiah to keep company now, which was nice, but he had his own recovery to deal with as well. Only days had passed since her discharge from the hospital, and she was expected to do this for the next few weeks ? They might as well have just kept her in there. While she could also go to the studio, and had already sat in on a class or two, it was all Sanem had been allowed, no dancing, just another tick of ever growing frustration. So after an aimless walk, she found her legs carrying into shaken and stirred, in part too because her arm was starting to bother her, supporting it on top of the bar gently, while ordering a soda, because if she was gonna make at least one smart decision ever. Brow quirks at the question, turning attention over to Delaney sat not too far away. ❝ So I’ve been told. ❞ Answering first with a partial smirk, shrugging faintly. ❝ I can rest perfectly well on these stools, and depending on how drunk, they’re a bed to some people. Not gonna tattle on me are you ? ❞

The truth of the matter was two-fold: one, Sanem was her own woman, capable of making her own decisions about her health; and two, Delaney wasn’t a doctor. There was no place for her to be administering any tough-love lectures about bed rest and taking it easy, though she was someone who regularly enjoyed taking the high ground. “I heard about what happened. Not in excessive detail, but enough detail. I’m glad you’re okay.” A thick blanket of grief had smothered the town in the preceding days as news of the town’s three deaths and other injuries spread quickly, as information always did. “Who, me? C’mon, Sanem ⏤ do I seem like the tattling type to you?” Feigning hurt, she moved to pantomime closing a zipper across her mouth before pretending to throw away the key. “My lips are sealed. Promise. Now tell me, what are we drinking?” 

[delaneyliu]

SANTIAGO CASILLAS.

Maybe it was the fact that he hadn’t been touched so tenderly in almost ten years, maybe it was the fact that he had drank a half a bottle of vodka before he showed up or maybe it was all the fear that had manifested the night before but when she touched his cheek he felt something in him finally start to break. The chip in the wall of ice around his heart creating a greater crack and she was saying exactly the words he had dreamed of hearing Daniella say for years. Daniella who he couldn’t stop thinking about, who he had sworn he saw a glimpse of in the middle of the fire, who’s voice stayed in the back of his head like a curse. How could he still want a woman he had come to hate? But she was his last memory of someone loving him, someone holding him and being a support. He had convinced himself for years that he needed no one now, that he would just push along until one day he couldn’t. So instead he leaned into her touch and he closed his eyes as a few tears started to fall down his cheeks. He couldn’t remember the last time he cried, it had to be in the weeks after Dani left until he felt numb enough to not even bring himself to get that emotional. He hung his head and let the tears fall a little more, not entirely sobbing but he felt like the only way to release what he felt was to cry and a hand fell to her waist as he pulled her closer so he could rest his forehead on her shoulder, so he could remind himself that he wasn’t alone, that he was there, that someone was holding him. He stayed like that for minutes, not having words to say but eventually pulled away and wiped at his face, clearing his throat as he looked at her. “Uh, can I take a shower or something before we eat? I smell like shit.” He cleared his throat as he got to his feet and started towards the bathroom, stopping in his tracks as he turned around to look at her. “Te amo, Del. Espero que lo sepas.”

Delaney’s breath hitched at his response to her touch. She wanted so badly to care for him, to extinguish his anger and sadness, to help him purge Daniella’s toxicity from his system. She wanted to see him happy and healthy again. It was possible; he just had to want it, too. Moving slowly, studying his responses, she swiped her thumb across his cheek, catching the tears that fell freely. This release of emotion was a long time coming ⏤ she could see it in his eyes, sense it in the way his hand grasped her waist, drawing her closer. As Delaney wound her arms around him, she could feel his tears dampen her old Harvard alumni shirt at the hollow of her collarbone, his breath coming in warm rasps against the fabric. Her heart ached. How could one person break someone so severely? 

When Santiago leaned away, she followed his lead, not wanting to crowd him. If she was going to be there for him and support him in whatever capacity he needed, she needed to respect that he would open up to her in his own time. One step at a time, she thought as she watched him wipe the tear tracks from his cheeks. She wasn’t aware of just how much she needed the comfort of his presence until he stepped away, asking if he could clean up before dinner. "Of course you can. I’ll keep the food warm.” Leaning back against the counter, Delaney looked over at him, eyes immediately welling with tears as he told her he loved her. “Siempre, Santiago,” she replied, hoping he knew just how much she loved him in return. Their relationship was a complicated thing, but she wouldn’t give up on it ⏤ or him ⏤ again. “Do you remember where to find the towels?”

[delaneyliu]

ANNABEL CASTILLO.

Annabel was sure she’d practiced this same song and dance about a thousand times. She’d stitched up various practice dummies, pig skin, and done quite a few in the hospital’s emergency room as she trained to be the nurse that she currently was. She’d had to sweet talk children into letting her do her job, distraction older residents, and even had to persuade drunks every now and then. Still, nothing felt like more of a challenge than stitching up her ex-wife. There was no small talk in the world that could’ve eased either of their pains. If anything, saying more than was needed would only make it worse.

“I’m going to start. Just – tell me if it’s too much.” Then again, what the hell was she supposed to do if the other did just that? She didn’t have a painkiller, not that she’d hand those out even to someone she deemed trustworthy. She couldn’t just stop midway through. Truth was, there was absolutely nothing she could do to ease Delaney’s pain. Gentle fingers worked easily against her palm as Bel began the stitch work that worried them both. “You can do that. If you don’t mind, you can just send me a text and I’ll let you know if I’ll be there that day? If not, you can just leave them at the nurse’s station and I can get them.” Then again, maybe it was best she did that anyway. Lips parted to argue that the drive was something she didn’t mind, but small ounce of thought she was able to maintain told her otherwise.

With the cut being only but two inches, the stitch work passed somewhat quickly to the nurse doing the job herself. She’d gotten lost in her focus that she wasn’t even sure how much time it’d actually taken, or if Del had voiced any pain at all. “You’ll need to come by in a week or so we can make sure the stitches are still looking okay. If you notice anything that doesn’t seem right, please call me,” she paused, “or the hospital.” Once she’d covered up the freshly stitched area of her hand with a loose bandage, Bel pulled off her gloves and stood tall, or as tall as her small frame would allow. “Can I get you anything else?”

Delaney hissed in pain as Annabel set to work, the first stitch sending a blaze of pain crackling through her palm and forearm. For all of the mental preparation she had done in the moments leading up to this, she felt utterly hopeless as her ex-wife basically sewed her hand up. Closing her eyes, she conjured the wisdom of every meditation podcast she’d tried and failed to follow. It wasn’t that she couldn’t sit still long enough to breathe her way to inner peace, she just couldn’t fathom allotting the time necessary to fully immerse herself in it. There were simply too many other things to do in the day. Sitting on the floor for twenty minutes of silence just didn’t have space in her schedule. But now she had the time. Closing her eyes, Delaney did her best to focus on any other sensory experience than that of the sutures being threaded through her skin: the scent of Bel’s perfume, the sound of gleeful children playing beyond the medical tent, the taste of red wine on her tongue.

Her eyes opened only when Annabel rattled off instructions for care. The wound was already out of view, hidden under a layer of gauze and bandaging. “Thank you, Bel,” Delaney said softly, turning her hand over to inspect the work. She hadn’t missed the insistence for her to call Annabel for any issues before the other woman suggested contacting the hospital. “I think I’m going to sit here for a minute and get my bearings before I go.” There was no question in her phrasing; after sitting sitting at the mercy of someone else, she was clawing at some semblance of control. A look passed between the women then ⏤ borne of understanding, appreciation ⏤ and with a quiet nod, they adjourned; Annabel withdrew to dispose of the supplies used, leaving Delaney to sit with her wounded hand cradled in her lap, staring out at the people that passed. 

It’s a start.

fin.

[delaneyliu]

SANTIAGO CASILLAS.

Santiago was still in his clothes from the day before, never having made it home after spending the night at the hospital. He had almost gotten kicked out after harassing one of the doctors to give him an update on Sanem. But her brother had arrived and as the sun rose and he could more clearly see the families filing in and out of the hospital, he felt terrible out of place and had to get away. Of course his phone was dead and he knew he should have been more eager to call his family and the entire night had sent his head spinning and he was more sober than he had been in years. So instead of going home he had gone to the closest liquor store and started the walk back to Sunstone Beach. He had even gotten to the gate of the Casillas Estate but he couldn’t go in, instead sitting out on the beach until the sun went down and he found his way to Delaney’s doorstep. The smell of food was the first reminder that he hadn’t eaten anything since the morning before and she shrugged at her question, sighing as he took a seat in her kitchen. “I’m alive. Sanem is alive,” he told her and cleared his throat as he ran his hands over his face. “I woke up in the middle of the fire and I heard Sanem, I got her to the hospital. They won’t tell me how she’s doing but her brother didn’t seem devastated so I assume she’s okay.” He scratched at his chin as the scene from the night before flashed through his mind. “I don’t know, guess I didn’t realize I’d actually care about dying.”

When the locks on the front door had been fastened behind them, Delaney followed Santiago into the kitchen. It was impossible not to notice that he was wearing the same polo and slacks from the previous day. Her suspicions that he hadn’t been home since they’d left for the festival were all but confirmed as he sat at the breakfast and unloaded, walking her through everything as she retrieved plates and cutlery from the cabinet and drawers. He had also been at the hospital earlier in the day. If only they’d crossed paths earlier, she could have intervened. While Delaney was relieved to hear that Sanem was receiving treatment, his uncertainty about the matter sent a flare of worry through her body that was only further amplified by the circumstances in which he had found her. He’d woken up in the fire? Regret stole the air from her lungs. (It was always going to be a part of their relationship, wasn’t it?) She should have stayed, should have kept her eye on him. She should have been there. Just like she should have all those years ago. “Oh, Santi,” Delaney exhaled, her voice filled with sorrow. It hurt her to see him like this. Abandoning the plates, she rounded the corner of the granite island and reached out to him, her good hand smoothing up his arm and over his shoulder, where she administered a gentle squeeze. “It’s been a lot to process today,” she said gently. Her hand moved to his face, brushing ash from his cheek. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there. I should’ve stayed.” 

[delaneyliu]

EMILIA KWAN.

Emilia was grateful that she wasn’t hurt during the fire that broke out at the festival. Unfortunately, other attendees weren’t so lucky in the situation. She had gone to the medic tent to help evaluate the situation of each patient before calling for an ambulance. There were some people who only had some cuts and bruises from trying to escape and they were able to go home. She heard word that people she knew were severely injured and after everything that had occurred in the last month, the last thing Emilia needed was to see someone she care about being seriously hurt. She pushed that thought to the back of her mind. She had come to the hospital to help out the doctors due to the influx of patients coming in from the fire. Though she didn’t work in the department, she was still one of the employees, which allowed her to help out. She watched people she knew getting wheeled into the hospital. She had to turn her phones off, trying to avoid all of the media coverage. The only text she had sent out was to her parents to let them know that she was fine and that she would be busy for the next couple of hours, if not days. She turned when she heard her name called, grateful that she saw Delaney. “I’m so sorry,” she hugged Delaney back. “Yeah. I’m totally fine. I was there, but I was far away enough from the fire that I was okay. I went to the medic tent to help the people out. Are you okay? Are you hurt? Is that why you’re here?”

Delaney exhaled in relief as she pulled away from her friend, trying to find the words to express her gratitude to the universe that the woman stood before her, who she’d always considered to be like a sister to her, was safe. But words failed at a time like this. Processing the news of Ángel’s injury and the deaths of Jacob and Lucy Abernathy had come as a shock to her system; she felt knocked off of her game, unable to fully form how thankful she was that no one else in her life had been grievously injured, or worse. “No, no, I’m okay,” Delaney replied in haste, looking down to her bandaged hand. “This happened yesterday, before the fire. I went home before the performances; popped an Ambien and knocked. I’m here because of Ángel ⏤ my aunt left me a voicemail saying he was being treated here.” Emotion bubbled up in her throat; confusion and fear swiftly coming to a head. “I’m so glad you’re okay, Em. What happened last night? I keep hearing it was the fireworks.”

[delaneyliu]

TIMELINE: Thursday, April 23rd, 2020.

LOCATION: Shaken and Stirred, Sunstone Beach.

STATUS: Closed for @sanemreid​.

Delaney sat at the bar, eyes trained on her phone. For nearly an hour, she’d waited on the arrival of one of her colleagues. One martini had turned into two, and by the time the text message apology had arrived, announcing that the intended babysitter had fallen through, Delaney had a buzz going. It seemed like such a waste to spend the effort put into selecting a dress and fixing her hair and make-up, so she plucked up her phone up and began to cycle through her contacts, searching for someone to join her, lest she spend another hour drinking by her lonesome. As she narrowed her options, a figure approached the bar a few seats down and placed their order with one of the impeccably-dressed bartenders. The voice was unmistakable. Sanem. “Shouldn’t you be at home on bed rest?” Delaney asked in place of a proper greeting, only vaguely serious but regretting the remark as soon as it left her mouth. She’d heard of the woman’s injuries in passing from Santiago. And, well, gin had a way of loosening her tongue, which only enabled her nosiness.

[delaneyliu]

ÁNGEL EMMERSON.

Location: Ángel’s Hospital Room 

Tagging: @redwoodstarter

hospitalization tw, injury tw 

“You gonna stand here and hold up the door all day or you gonna come and give me a hug?” His voice was still pretty hoarse since they had only taken out the ventilator a few hours ago and he didn’t have a great amount of energy but he was alert enough for visitors. There were so many things going through his head but he was just glad his moms and Brady were safe. “They said the only thing they can prescribe me is a little TLC so come over here,” he told them with a laugh that turned into a cough, sighing as he lay back. “I’m better than I seem, promise,” he lied.

Delaney stood frozen in the doorway of Ángel’s room, heartbroken at the sight of her cousin. Normally reserved, her cards held close to her chest, she felt a wave of emotion breaking over her, tears forming in her eyes as her gaze followed the curve of the IV drip line before moving up to his pallid face. “You son of a bitch,” Delaney said softly, her voice imbued with a mixture of sadness and anger as she crossed the threshold into his room. “I just ran into your moms downstairs; they said you were out being a hero, pulling people from the fire. You could have died, Ángel.” She was certain that he’d already heard a similar speech from his mothers and Brady, but given the circumstances, it was a lecture worth repeating. Her good hand closed around the railing at the foot of his bed as she surveyed the room. She was ready to wind up and smack him for his heroism; keeping her distance was the only thing stopping her from acting on it. “Are they taking good care of you in here?” 

[delaneyliu]

ANNABEL CASTILLO.

“You’re allowed to be freaked out,” she countered, genuinely wanting nothing more than to ease her ex-wife’s mind. She was sure that the thought of getting stitches alone was enough to freak the woman out, but having to get them in a makeshift tent by someone who had just divorced her? Bel could only imagine, well, partly. She wasn’t sure what she was allowed to say, or what needed to be left in the past with their marriage. Part of her wanted to crack a joke about how big of a baby Delaney had been several times throughout injuries, but it didn’t seem appropriate. They’d barely talked in months and the lack of words showed. Was it pathetic that all Bel wanted was a conversation? Or that she wanted to capture the female’s attention the way she’d done five years ago? It was incredibly dumb considering the facts, but part of her would always want the stubborn attorney. 

 “Can anyone?” It was a joke, the corner’s of her lips etching upwards without warning before eyes hit the floor. “That’s why I volunteered to work the tent. I was supposed to be off, but I knew I wouldn’t come if I didn’t work it.” Then again, maybe that wouldn’t have been such a bad thing. The words stung the more they settled on her mind, but it didn’t matter now. Delaney had made her choice clear and Bel had followed suit. “If it’s too much, I can go ahead and start,” she offered, already knowing damn good and well they’d be waiting the fifteen minutes. Lips parted as a quiet sigh left her lips. That would explain why her order had been delivered, yet not. “I was ready to write a strongly worded email, but that explains why they never showed up at the apartment. You can drop them by the hospital if you want? Or I can come by your office?“

Either seemed easier than having to go back to a home they’d once shared. “I’ll make sure I change it before I order from there again.” Which, would probably be soon. She loved scrubs, adored them actually, and had been quite the collection over the years. It was her weakness; some girls liked shoes, Bel liked scrubs. “Just let me know whatever works. And when.”

Delaney had to expect the wisecrack from Annabel ⏤ out of anyone in this town, her ex-wife knew just how stubborn she was, and how poorly she took to directives. They had been together long enough to witness the highs and lows and in-betweens. That knowledge didn’t just disappear when the ink dried on divorce papers. And that’s what struck Delaney most as they sat together, Annabel explaining about her own decision to volunteer her talents: the intimacy and insights they had collected about one another over the years ⏤ the details and idiosyncrasies uncovered, from food preferences to body language interpretation ⏤ wasn’t something she could pack up in a banker’s box and stow away. It all resurfaced, violently, as Annabel’s thumb had traced over the inside of her wrist and her eyes had darkened with concern; an old wound torn open as the woman she’d called the love of her life readied to stitch up a new one.

“Yeah,” Delaney said quietly, “you can go ahead.” In the abstract, whatever was next by way of pain seemed minimal compared to everything she’d shoved to the side in the wake of their divorce. “I can drop it off at the hospital. I’m supposed to have lunch with Emilia sometime this coming week, so I’ll leave it at the nurse’s station.” The last thing she wanted to do was to have Annabel show up at the Abernathy Pharmaceuticals offices; the thought of having anyone in her department come into contact with her ex-wife after the time she’d spent trying to brush off or explain away the woman’s absence was so thoroughly embarrassing, she couldn’t stomach having to do it all over again. “If that’s okay? It’ll save you the trouble of driving to Sunstone Beach.”

[delaneyliu]

TIMELINE: Sunday, April 19th, 2020.

LOCATION: Redwood Bay General Hospital (or whatever tf it’s called).

STATUS: Closed for @emiliakwan.

"I’m just walking in now. Let me know if you hear anything about when the Board is reconvening,” Delaney said as she strode through the automatic doors at the entrance of the town’s hospital, navigating the hallway with ease as she had any number of times before. Call terminated, she turned her attention to the people gathered in the emergency room, searching the faces to find one she knew. Of the voluminous number of text messages and voicemails she’d received while she was asleep, over half had been from frantic family members trying to place where their loved ones were as news of the fire spread across town. The voicemail from her aunt Jan about Ángel’s injuries had shaken her; knowing he was in the care of medical professionals was the only thing that had kept her steady as she’d readied herself in record time before rushing off to the hospital. What worried her was the lack of response from Emilia, who she knew in a rational sense would be busy by the influx of patients Still, the absence of a response set her on edge, the tension lifting from her shoulders only when she spotted the doctor at triage. “Emilia!” she called out after her cousin, ignoring the dirty look shot her way by one of the nurses at the desk. Delaney wound her arms around Emilia, hugging her close. “Oh, thank god. Are you okay? Were you there? I’ve been trying to get ahold of you.”

[delaneyliu]

TIMELINE: Sunday, April 19th, 2020.

LOCATION: Delaney’s House, Sunstone Beach.

STATUS: Closed for @santiago-casillas​​.

The sudden gentle toll of the doorbell startled Delaney. She hadn’t been expecting anyone to come by the house, and the normal delivery window for any deliveries had long closed. Reaching for her phone on the kitchen counter, she opened the security app buried in a folder on the home screen and selected the camera positioned on the front door. There, standing on her front step, was one person she hadn’t realized she needed to see after a long day of work calls and running around town, trying to make sense of the tragedy that had unfolded at the festival after she’d departed. Turning down the temperature on the stove top, she left her dinner to simmer and walked hurriedly down the hallway to the front door, unfastening the locks to open the door. “Santiago,” she said in greeting, immediately moving aside to allow him in. He looked worse for wear, but she was hard-pressed to produce the name of anyone in town who hadn’t been put through the ringer in the last 24 hours. “Come in ⏤ dinner’s almost ready, I’ll get you a plate. How are you holding up?"

[delaneyliu]

ZEHRA YILMAZ.

Pursuing throughout the event had been a successful venture, from wine to food, to witnessing a stranger’s passion or hearing the laughter bubbling from numerous throats, it had all amassed to a sense of pride in her hometown. As she would continue, her next port of call would be the flower tent - the smell of it alone enough to lure her closer. “Del,” she speaks between a soft smile, the sight of her friend the catalyst. “Is it weird if I say not at all nervous? I think it’s because all of our friends are here, y’know. It’s like having my own little support system. Besides, if it goes terribly, I’ll just pull you up on stage and you can wow the crowd.” The sentence slips from her tongue as an air of professionalism expels from Delaney, a laugh, quick and short, comes out in response. “Wow, I’d love one.”

“You’re not nervous at all?” Delaney repeated in rhetorical fashion, impressed by the nonchalance with which Zehra regarded her upcoming performance. She couldn’t fathom it, performing for hundreds of people gathered together, a spotlight drawing everyone’s attention to her. She carried out her own performances on a somewhat regular basis in court, appealing to the judge with well-crafted submissions in lieu of song. Perhaps it was a matter of shifted perception. Still, she found herself in awe of the coolness Zehra exuded. “I’m keeping my distance from the stage if that’s your plan,” she laughed. “No one wants to see me on stage ⏤ not when they’ve come to experience your brilliance.” Extending her hand, she deposited the peony in Zehra’s hand, adding: “How are you finding it? The festival. It feels like they’ve really stepped up their game this year with the environmentalism push.”

[delaneyliu]

SANEM REID.

Upon her arrival to the celebration, there was a list, whoever short, of people that Sanem had wanted to do her best to ignore, for a multitude of reasons, despite toying with the idea approaching one, though perhaps not enough time had passed for that just yet. It wasn’t as though she’d terrified to, so to speak anyway, just having gone through plenty in the last month, it was best not to rock the boat. The woman next to her, hadn’t been a name among those of course, more along the lines of, someone she actually hadn’t expected to run into, even if in hindsight the size of the town and fact that majority were here, should’ve given way to the high possibility. 

There was certainly an ever present – not so much tension as more fidgety, sense in the atmosphere lingering between them, but the compliment still elicited a small, and authentic smile to curve regardless. ❝ Thanks, you do to. ❞ Easily returned with the same sincerity, one hand raking itself through dark locks, while the other still held a half eaten cupcake she had all but nearly forgotten about. ❝ Santi, I assume ? ❞ Questioned as an airy laugh billows passed her lips, listening intently then as Delaney spoke up, head nodding along some. The dancer’s smile might’ve receded in the slightest, but expression kept a softness about it, with only a brief pause till a response came. ❝ It’s okay, honestly, I get it and – I promise I wasn’t walking around harboring any sort of pettiness towards you either. ❞ She jested, merely an attempt to lighten the mood just a little at least. In fact of would’ve been hypocritical for Sanem, with her own log of one night stands or flings that ended with her becoming a complete stranger to the other person once again. ❝ But I do appreciate the apology. ❞

“The one and only,” Delaney said, confirming Sanem’s guess that Santiago was the good friend she’d referred to, and  the reason she was in attendance at the festival. “I couldn’t turn down the chance to spend the day around rowdy drunk people, you know?” It unnerved Delaney that she felt even the slightest slip in the mask she wore so well ⏤ the cool and collected demeanor of someone accomplished and revered, falling out of place just so slightly in the presence of Sanem. She wasn’t sure if it was the wine buzz working its way through her system or the embarrassment arising out of the situation, serving as a swift reminder of why she wasn’t the type to partake in hook-up culture. Apparently, it turned her into a bumbling moron, offering apologies to someone she’d only shared a bed with on a couple occasions. “Oh, I didn’t think that you would,” she said defensively, “I just wanted to clear the air.” Once she was satisfied that she hadn’t completely bungled the exchange, Delaney tried to pivot away from the awkwardness, albeit somewhat unsuccessfully. "So... are you meeting someone? Or just hanging out?” What the fuck, she thought, a blush creeping onto her face. Why can’t you talk to her like a normal human being?

[delaneyliu]

ALLISON PELLISIER.

Though her identity seemed to be sealed away for the most part, one of the few people in town who she knew she couldn’t fool was Delaney. However, because of her affiliation with Quinn it seemed futile to try to hide it away from her. The woman before her was too sharp for that, and if anything she’d be too petrified to lie to her face. The thought of Quinn though sank down to the depths of her stomach, she wondered if it’d be weird to ask the woman for any updates about him or any of her other siblings. The years apart from them had taken a toll on her, though she was sure none of them wanted to see her ever again, or at least that’s what she told herself in order to make the separation easier. She let out a light whistling sound before she pointed at the Casillas Vineyard & Winery tents. “I’ve never been able to turn down wine, quite frankly I’m a sap for it.” Allison said with a small smile. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and continued to let the woman lead the way before mustering out, “How are things? Or is that too general to ask.” 

A smile bloomed on Delaney’s face as Allison indicated her choice, pointing to the wine tent. Full circle, she thought as she returned to the very place she’d spent the first half of the afternoon, passing out samples and offering education about the winery and its products to curious customers. “You that you have excellent taste ⏤ and I’m not saying that because I’ve been volunteering here.” Leading the way, she glanced over only as Alli asked after things. There wasn’t much else to say apart from the truth, however unpleasant it was to dredge up. “It’s not too general. In fact, I think I prefer general questions to specific ones,” she admitted with a sheepish grin, ducking under the side of the tent to grab two fresh glasses. “Things are... okay. My divorce was finalized last summer. I started redecorating the house, but that’s kind of been sidelined by work. We’re swamped.” Swamped was a nice way of generalizing the influx of legal issues and changes the company was undergoing. “Now it’s your turn to fill me in on everything. But first,” Delaney said, passing Alli a glass, “what can I get you? Red, white or rosé?”

[delaneyliu]

ÁNGEL EMMERSON.

“Okay well what’s exciting about them? Change my mind. Right, right, where’s that wild man at? Do you know I saw him last week talking to one of the statues in the park? In Spanish, too. That shit was hilarious. I mean worrying and kind of sad but funny. I got some video if you wanna see it.” It was a well known fact that Santiago Casillas was a bit of a mess and if it weren’t for Delaney’s friendship with him then Ángel probably wouldn’t have even really cared. Not that he had anything against him but he barely drank wine and he did his best to stay away from most people in Sunstone Beach, they had never been the nicest to him anyway. Plus he felt the guy was a little dramatic, not that he’d ever say it out loud. “It’s looking pretty good, you gotta swing by the face painting station that shit is so cute. Me? Escorted by security? You’re confusing me with Jordie, I don’t get in trouble like that and if I did I don’t get caught. But it’s been cool, getting to see all my favorite people. Moms and I took mad selfies so even cooler. Be honest though, this outfit, I look slick, right? Tryna get someone to check me out.”

“Something tells me there isn’t enough time or wine in the world to convince you of otherwise,” Delaney said with a laugh. Her expression sobered as Ángel explained what he’d witnessed, shifting suddenly from amusement to concern. “You saw Santiago talking to statues in the park? Santiago Casillas? Are you sure? Show me the video.” All subsequent conversation about the festival ⏤ the face painting station, his ability to skirt security, the selfies he’d taken with his mothers ⏤ and the importance of outfit faded out. She knew Santiago had been deeply affected after Daniella left, to the point of engaging in some questionable activities, but what her cousin was telling her now was unsettling. Paired with the behavior she’d witnessed herself, and his throwaway comments about his sobriety, she was beginning to build a worrying image of his well-being. “I’m glad you’re having a good time, Ángel, and you do look good, but you can’t just drop a bomb like that on me and move on.” Backtracking, she added: “Wait, who are you trying to get to check you out? Is this someone I know?”