redcreeksavannah

[redcreeksavannah]

Savannah's style could be deemed as rather eccentric at times. Like if you took a fairy that traveled back to the seventies and stole somebody else's clothing. It was a style of dress that the young woman found a lot of comfort in, over the years being able to carefully pick individual pieces to add to her own collection that she felt proud of. A toothy grin forms on her face from the compliment. "That is probably one of the best things I could ever hear," she admitted. "Great choice for a concert pick. God, I'd hate to sound like a total cliche but I think Tiktok has kind of ruined concerts too. Like, so many people only go to certain shows just for the clout of it," she adds on. "Speaking of shows, I think I need to see you at one of mine soon?"

"yeah?"  his  smile  is  small,  but  true  and  warm;  comfort  in  the  familiar,  in  the  records  beneath  his  touch.  "i  think  i  can  tell  -  with  your  whole,  uh  -"  a  hand  lifts,  gestures  towards  his  own  apparel,  "-  aesthetic.  style.  it's  nice  -  i  think  it  suits  you."  his  own  style  is  the  embodiment  of  a  child  trying  to  find  the  warmth  in  an  oversized,  used  jacket.  leather  that's  cracked  with  age,  a  flannel  tucked  beneath  it,  and  a  shirt  beneath  that.  layers  and  blue  jeans,  boots  that  came  scuffed.  "that's  real.  think  i  feel  that  way  about,  uh  -  radiohead,  1997.  glastonbury.  don't  think  i  really  -  care  for  thom  yorke  as  a  person,  but...  just  to  experience  it,  you  know?"  his  shoulders  roll  back  into  a  light  shrug.  "that,  and  i  feel  like  -  concert  culture  is  kind  of  scuffed  these  days.  it  just  doesn't  feel  the  same  like  it  did  even  a  decade  ago,  can't  imagine  what  it  was  like  twenty  or  so  -  you  know?"

[redcreeksavannah]

Savannah decides to take a seat next to the girl, the joint now in her hands as she goes to take a quick puff from it. She usually preferred to get high in the comfort of her own home but today was a perfect autumn day to partake in such activities. "Honestly? I've been needing to take my mind off things too. I've tried picking up a few extra shifts at the cafe to keep busy but like, that's been the opposite of helping," she sighs. "Shit has been super intense and I'm not sure if it's going to clam down anytime soon."

“oh, my bad,” she said with a casual shrug, the words drifting out with the lazy flow of someone too high to remember where the joke even came from, but it still made her laugh. “exactly. i do care, so…” she leaned forward, passing the joint to savannah with a playful grin. “shit’s been wild out here. needed to chill, y’know? thought you might be feeling the same.” she gestured to the empty space beside her. “if you’re not in a rush, you’re welcome to join. it’s... an interesting crowd tonight.” she glanced around, clearly aware that "interesting" was a generous way to put it. “what brings you out here anyway?”

[redcreeksavannah]

LEXI HOWARD in 2x07

[redcreeksavannah]

Savannah had been taking a late afternoon walk by Deer Lake, earbud in one ear while the other one was completely free to hear her surroundings. Thankful that winter hasn't taken over the small Michigan town, she would take the semi-cold, gloomy days to her advantage while she could.

Clicking pause on her phone, she turns her head and offers the other girl a confusing look. "Oh, that wasn't me," she offers an awkward laugh as she puts her phone back into her jacket pocket. Eyes gazing over to the joint that was in their hands, she pauses for a moment to accept the invitation or not. "I mean, they do say sharing is caring...."

TIME : late afternoon, before dusk PLACE : deer lake WITH : savannah grady , @redcreeksavannah

lela wasn't one to be entirely social - she was never the one with a million friends or the life of the part. instead, she was the quiet girl who usually had a sketchbook in hand or taking pictures of the ones around her. so it wasn't often that she found herself at deer lake surrounded by a - surprisingly - quite a few people. she had the joint in hand and was already pretty stoned when she heard a joke from someone a few feet away. she couldn't help but laugh - obnoxiously at that - before she shook her head. "sorry, but that was funny" she muttered, holding out the joint in her hands for the other person. "you want a hit? i promise it's not like laced with anything."

[redcreeksavannah]

Savannah tries her very best not to appear completely stunned at her next customer's response. She knew that everybody took unfortunate news differently, especially if it was about someone that they hadn't known that well. Hell, humor was sometimes the best way to make sense over it all but hearing that comment left a bitter taste in her mouth.

"Have you ever heard of something called time and place?" she can't help but blurt out, not caring if it would offend the other or risk her the chance of not getting a tip (the jar being pretty empty on the counter anyways). "We do have coffee cake if that might be more up your speed?"

the  quiet  murmuring  across  down  sounds  more  like  buzzing  to  pandora;  an  ugly  hornet's  nest,  festering  in  their  own  misery.  alaina  price  is  dead.  that's  a  fact  -  indisputable,  undeniable.  it's  not  that  pandora  is  unsympathetic  -  death  is  very  tragic,  and  she  knows  this,  knows  it  very  well.  it's  just  -  well,  it's  alaina  price,  of  all  people.  she  remembers  her  briefly  in  childhood,  before  new  york  and  before  ballet  and  before  her  days  blurred  into  nights  and  her  bones  became  knobby.  she  was  nice,  kind;  and  incredibly  boring.  it's  probably  why  her  brother  had  dated  her,  once;  someone  plain,  a  soft  ripple  in  their  family's  riptide  effect.

but  alaina  price  is  dead,  and  it  doesn't  matter  anymore  what  pandora  thinks  -  she  still  dresses  in  all  black,  as  if  it's  a  personal  loss  and  not  a  minor  inconvenience  to  her  day.  the  buzzing  doesn't  stop,  vibrates  within  her  skull  like  tinnitus  -  as  she  stares  at  savannah  from  across  the  counter.  a  small  tsk  forms  at  the  base  of  her  throat  -  but  she  smiles,  anyways.  wide  and  bright.  "no,  please  -  you  can  continue  if  you'd  like,  i'm  sure  it's  very  interesting  -  i  can  wait."  another  tsk  as  her  eyes  lower  to  the  display  case,  fingernail  running  along  glass,  "more  of  a  bummer  than  the  dead  girl  in  the  morgue?"  her�� lips  curve  into  something  of  a  smile,  despite  the  morbid  topic  -  gaze  flickering  back  towards  savannah's  big  ol'  blues,  "i'm  just  kidding  -  it's  a  real  shame  you're  out  of  the  cinnamon  rolls,  they're  just  about  the  only  good  thing  in  this  joint.  do  you  have  anything  coffee  crumbly?"

[redcreeksavannah]

Biting down on her lip, she is hesitant on what she wants to say next. She had experienced some odd encounters on Halloween night, before any murders had been announced. Encounters that she had just chalked up to paranoia and just odd timing, things that she hadn't considered to actually be reality and in connections towards what had happened.

When she hears about the familial connection with her customer and a knot forms in her stomach. "I was....trick or treating on Halloween and was walking past the Price house when I heard some strange noises," she admitted. "Almost like....screaming....possibly? I didn't like, see anything though," she continues. "Not sure if that helps with anything?"

               this   was   hopeless.   she   wasn’t   going   to   get   anything   useful   out   of   this   girl.   she   could   already   feel   the   conversation   slipping   away,   her   last   hope   for   answers   draining   like   the   lukewarm   coffee   in   her   hand.   she   was   ready   to   walk   out,   to   abandon   her   search   for   meaning   in   this   strange   little   bakery.   the   girl   behind   the   counter,   her   eyes   tired,   was   probably   wishing   micaela   would   take   the   hint   and   leave.   there   were   other   patrons   waiting   for   attention,   and   she   didn’t   want   to   be   a   burden.   still,   micaela   hesitated,   something   in   her   unwilling   to   walk   away   just   yet.                micaela   almost   turned   to   leave,   but   then   the   words   tumbled   out   before   she   could   stop   them.   “   things   stranger   than   a   murder   ?   ”   she   asked,   her   voice   sharper   now,   fueled   by   a   flicker   of   something   ┈   anger,   maybe,   or   desperation.   her   eyes   locked   on   the   girl’s,   imploring.   “   i   heard   about   some   kids   fighting,   but   that’s   hardly   newsworthy.   ”   she   paused,   swallowing   her   pride.   “   look,   i   wasn’t   going   to   say   anything   …   i   didn’t   want   to   drag   you   into   this.   but   heather   ┈   she   was   my   cousin.   ”   her   breath   caught,   and   for   the   first   time,   she   softened   her   tone,   feeling   a   pang   of   vulnerability.   “   i   need   answers.   if   you   know   anything,   please   …   i’m   desperate.   ”   she   knew   she   was   grasping,   pleading   to   an   unsuspecting   bakery   worker,   but   it   didn’t   matter.   she   couldn’t   leave   here   without   knowing   she’d   tried   everything,   asked   every   possible   question.

[redcreeksavannah]

kristine frøseth

[redcreeksavannah]

What was this woman's deal with asking so many questions? Was she a detective, a new person on the squad, or some nosey reporter trying to write a piece on the tragedy of this town? The possibilities seemed quite endless but still, Savannah was still trying to appear kind in front of the other. Frown not escaping from her features, she shrugged her shoulders. "Honestly? No? Nothing really seemed out of the ordinary as far as I know," she speaks. "I'm pretty sure more stranger things happened on Halloween night though. Heard about any of it?" the barista questioned.

               micaela   realizes   she   might   have   crossed   a   line;   the   other   girl’s   face   has   gone   pale,   her   body   language   tense,   as   though   bracing   for   a   blow.   she   feels   the   tension   but   knows   she’s   come   too   far   to   turn   back   ┈   there   are   too   many   gaps,   too   many   secrets   hanging   unspoken.   as   the   girl   begins   to   answer   in   a   voice   barely   above   a   whisper,   her   eyes   flick   nervously   around   the   room,   clearly   hoping   no   one   else   hears.   micaela   leans   in,   hanging   on   each   word,   though   the   response   skirts   the   truth   she’s   looking   for.   gently,   she   tries   to   steer   her   back,   keeping   her   tone   light,   almost   conversational.   “   think   back   to   the   last   time   she   came   in.   did   she   act   …   different   ?   anything   unusual   happen   ?   ”                she   can’t   tell   if   her   approach   is   working;   the   girl’s   expression   remains   closed   off,   unreadable,   and   she   senses   the   delicate   balance   of   trust   tipping.   micaela   pulls   back   slightly,   nodding   as   if   satisfied,   murmuring,   “   yeah,   it   is,   ”   though   her   thoughts   drift   elsewhere.   the   parallels   between   this   case   and   her   cousin’s   gnaw   at   her,   tugging   her   into   memories   she’d   rather   leave   buried.   it   feels   as   if   she’s   slipping,   pulled   deeper   into   the   past,   with   the   cold,   familiar   dread   that   she   might   not   make   it   out   whole.

[redcreeksavannah]

"I dunno," Savannah lets out a sigh, glancing down towards the pool table with her stick in hand. She wasn't too much of a sporty person, if you counted cheerleading as one? What she did enjoy though, was watching people play games of pool at the bar. She was a regular there, considering that her band played there frequently and all. "Honestly? I've always been a bit better at claw machine games, always been able to strategize getting a good prize from them," she adds on. "Maybe I'll have dumb luck and win the games. What does the winner get anyways?"

📍 redstone bar. 🕰️ november tenth, 8:32pm. 🔒 open to three replies.

「 ✏️ 」 the   redstone was   alive   tonight,   lights   casting   a   low   glow   over   a   room   thick   with   laughter,   old   rock   tunes,   and   the   clink   of   pool   balls.   tommy   leans   against   the   edge   of   the   table,   his   pool   cue   balancing   in   one   hand,   a   half-smile   lingering   on   his   face   as   he   looks   over   at   his   opponent.   " y'know, "   he   starts,   only   pausing   to   take   a   sip   from   his   pint.   " i   reckon   you   got   a   good   shot   —   if   you   don’t   let   the   nerves   get   to   you. "   he   nods   toward   the   corner   pocket,   gaze   flickering   there   like   he   could   see   the   outcome   already.   " course,   that   bank   shot   ain’t   easy.   not   that   i’m   tryna   psych   you   out   or   anything, "   he   adds,   feigning   innocence   as   he   chalks   the   tip   of   his   cue.   " but   you could   throw   the   whole   game. "

[redcreeksavannah]

"No, I'm not thinking about that," Savannah replied dryly, trying not to glare at the other person as she stands behind the counter. Halloween had happened what just seemed like yesterday, the tragedy of the events still fresh on everyone's minds. Perhaps humor was one way for others to cope, but the baker couldn't help but find it the least bit funny. "Like I said, I'm sorry that we're out of those," she sighs, glancing down at the display case yet again. "We still have a lot of awesome goodies though, do you need any suggestions?"

light steps guide hara to 'early rise' in search of something to snack on and her presence is clear — the warmth of too many puffs of café rose by tom ford make it hard for the photographer to conceal her arrival . or so she thinks. even the noise of burgundy nails tapping the glass and the counter don't seem to make a change as savannah is still lost in ... whatever she is lost in. it must be about halloween though, but hara tries to convince herself that it could be something else.

not particularly close to alaina and definitely living in a state of denial at times, hara finds herself in a mental limbo — none of this seems real so she is not bothered and yet, most residents feel uneasy, so ... it must be real, right ... ? shit, maybe she should feign the malaise too. the guilt of numbness gnaws at the young woman's conscience even more when she notices how savannah needs more than a moment to get out of her trance.

"it's okay. thinkin' about what you did last halloween ? " distasteful joke to most, but unlike most people, hara's jokes are for herself and ... guess what ? she thought that was damn good !

"no cinnamon rolls or chocolate croissant, but you're still open ... " again, the words uttered are meant for her and her only. " i guess i'll have the banana bread. why are you out of the main stars of the show anyway ? we need to cheer up 'n all after what happened ... and this", her finger motions to the empty trays, where the missing baked goods should've been, " this is not helping one bit. "

[redcreeksavannah]

"Well good morning to you too, Finch," Savannah can't help but roll her eyes at her fellow bandmate. It seemed a little too early for him to be choosing such violence, complaining about the lack of syrup flavorings on their menu. "To be fair, we're currently in-between our holiday menu's and you happened to come after the morning rush, so that answers your question on the selection," she points out. "What brings you here anyways? I'll tell my boss that the customers are being hostile right now."

*      ❪       🦇       ❫    ﹕ ❛  𝘂𝗵   𝗵𝘂𝗵. ❜   𝗶𝘀   𝗮𝗹𝗹   𝘀𝗵𝗲   𝗴𝗲𝘁𝘀   𝗮𝘀   𝗵𝗲  𝗿𝗼𝘂𝗻𝗱𝘀   𝘁𝗵𝗲   𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗿    &   pushes   through   the   swinging   doors   that   separates   consumer   from   employee,   grubby   digits   sifting   through   the   different   syrups   offered in   such a   pretentious   establishment.   all   this   gentrification   &   they   dont   even   fucking  have  toasted vanilla.   ❛  where   the   fuck   are   your   other sweetners,   sav ? ❜    knees   crack   like   fireworks   as   he   kneels   down,   knocking   plastic   cups   across   the   floor   with a harsh tug of cabinet doors.  ❛  tellin'   your   boss   you're   usin'   your   phone   by   the   way.   неслухняна   дівчинка. ❜    a   tsk   for a rule   he   cares   nothing   for,   punching   silly   threats   in   the   air   that   she   can   easily dissipate   without   a   retort   in   defense.   in  lieu   of   someone   waiting   next   for   their   order,   stare   directed   at   his   head,   he   ignores   in   favor   of   commanding her full attention. it  didn't   take   a self proclaimed empath   to   guess   she   was   going   to   bring   up   alaina.   a tragedy   he   paid   no   mind   to.   not   in   the   public   eye   anyway.   the   shock   of   a   withering   brain   consumed   him   all   too   well; making   him   a   prime   target   in   its   failure   to   abstain   from   showing   all   his   cards.   a   heart   on   his   sleeve   in   the   form   of   a   grinding   jaw   &   countless   sniffs   as   if   there'd   been   an   oncoming   coldfront. there's   not   much   hope   that   she   doesn't   mention   it.

[redcreeksavannah]

Savannah could feel a bit of relief over her next customer not seeming frustrated or annoyed at her. She had been working at the cafe for a few years now so normally, she was much more confident and comfortable around the people that she served. She knew her job like the back of her hand and most shifts felt like she could do with her eyes closed. Today though? She found herself on edge and anxious, being uanble to hold a conversation without feeling like a bumbling fool.

"Um," mouth feeling dry as she tries to find the right way to respond to the other's question. "Yeah, I knew her, sorta? She was one of my regulars here," she replies, almost in a low voice. Sav didn't really know Alaina too much on a personal level, unlike some other people in town might have. "I can't believe what happened either. It's just....really shitty."

   𝗂𝗇   𝗍𝗁𝖾   𝗆𝗈𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌,   micaela   often   found   herself   at   early   rise   bakery.   it   was   as   much   a   part   of   her   routine   as   anything   ┈   a   quiet   place   to   sip   coffee,   sift   through   work,   and   observe   the   locals.   watching   the   familiar   faces   walkthrough,   𝘰𝘭𝘥𝘦𝘳   𝘯𝘰𝘸   𝘣𝘶𝘵   𝘣𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘺   𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘥,   was   oddly   comforting   and   unsettling   all   at   once.   she’d   stand   in   line,   order   her   usual,   and   settle   into   the   routine   of   life   here,   one   that   both   welcomed   her   back   and   reminded   her   of   all   the   reasons   she’d   left.   today,   as   she   stepped   up   to   the   counter,   she   noticed   the   girl   taking   her   order   seemed   a   little   scattered.   when   she   stumbled   through   the   specials,   apologizing   for   what   they   were   out   of   stock   in,   micaela   offered   a   sympathetic   smile,   trying   to   reassure   her.   “   𝗻𝗼   𝗻𝗲𝗲𝗱   𝘁𝗼   𝗯𝗲   𝘀𝗼𝗿𝗿𝘆,   ”   she   said   softly.   “   i   wasn’t   planning   on   getting   either   of   those   today.   ”     after   ordering,   micaela   lingered   a   moment   longer,   letting   the   silence   stretch.   she   saw   her   opportunity   to   press   for   a   little   information,   and   maybe   that   was   selfish,   but   she   had   her   reasons.   if   anyone   had   the   right   to   dig   into   this,   didn’t   she   ?   “   so   ...   did   you   know   her   ?   𝖺𝗅𝖺𝗂𝗇𝖺   ?   ”   she   asked   in   a   low   voice,   sympathy   and   curiosity   threaded   together.   “   i   heard   what   happened.   𝗽𝗼𝗼𝗿   𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴.   ”   she   watched   the   barista   carefully,   hoping   to   catch   any   flicker   of   a   reaction.   maybe   it   was   her   own   personal   quest,   but   wasn’t   it   justified   ?   after   all,   heather   had   been   killed   in   the   same   brutal   way,   and   the   case   was   as   cold   as   the   winter   it   happened   in.   if   she   could   help   close   this   for   good,   she   could   finally   leave   this   town   behind,   ghosts   and   all.   twenty   five   years   was   far   too   long   to   wait   for   justice,   and   if   sheriff   kelly   couldn’t   solve   it,   maybe   it   was   time   𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘦   𝘦𝘭𝘴𝘦   tried.

[redcreeksavannah]

Savannah was still trying to keep her mind off of the recent happenings here in Redcreek. That proved to be more difficult than expected, feeling like every corner she passed, someone had been speaking about the murders. It was all so heartbreaking, even though she personally didn't know Alaina all too well, it still felt like a personal loss for such a small town.

Perhaps the only way that the girl felt like she could distract herself was with a good trip to the record store. Music was one of the greatest comforts in her life, allowing a way to escape any sad or anxious thoughts....even just for a few moments. Her eyes were glued to a copy of Rumors, her all time favorite album by Fleetwood Mac.

Glancing up, she smiles and nods her head. "Don't even get me started on Stevie Nicks. She is my musical, fashion, personality, everything inspiration. I think if I could build a time machine, I'd travel back and be able to watch that 1997 performance in person. I fear that I will never be able to have a live performance nearly that iconic."

FOR:   savannah ( @redcreeksavannah ). DETAILS:   the... record store... that red creek has... yeah.

with  fingers  flipping  between  used  vinyls  and  scratched  records  -  it's  rafael's  desperate  attempt  at  returning  to  normalcy.  he  knows  that  red  creek  will  never  be  the  same  after  alaina  price's  murder  -  knows  that  nothing  can  wash  away  that  stain,  that  permanent  imprint.  but  what  else  can  they  do?  what  else  can  rafael  do?  people  are  starting  to  notice  the  lilacs  blooming  beneath  his  eyes,  his  dazed  expression,  his  slumped  shoulders.  he  used  to  be  vibrant;  make  your  eyes  hurt  with  it.  he  wants  to  be  that,  again;  just  trying  to  figure  out  how.

his  gaze  drifts  to  the  left,  to  a  pair  of  nimble  hands  -  trails  up  her  arms.  rafael  knows  her  name  -  he  swears  he  does;  it's  at  the  tip  of  his  tongue,  in  the  crevices  of  his  brain.  eyes  flicker  back  down,  to  the  record  in  front  of  savannah.  "oh,  sick,  fleetwood  mac.  great  album  too,  like,  all  zero  skips."  rafael  clears  his  throat;  how  to  talk  about  music  without  coming  off  as  a  pretentious,  name  five  songs  and  three  albums,  lunatic?  "i  remember  watching  their  live  performance  of  silver  springs  for  the  first  time  -  the  1997  one  -  and,  wow.  if  stevie  nicks  looked  at  me  like  that  while  singing  like  that  -  i  would've  turned  to  dust  on  the  spot.  hell  hath  no  fury  like  a  woman  scorned,  yeah?"

[redcreeksavannah]

[redcreeksavannah]

Open starter: Capping at four replies

Location: Early Rise Bakery + Cafe

Savannah had felt totally frazzled since the events of Halloween and the news of Alaina that had broke out to the rest of the townspeople. The peculiar sight of the Price house kept replaying in her head and she couldn't help but feel...guilty? Could she have stopped anything from happening to her?

Mind in a total haze, she almost doesn't even realize the next customer who had walked into the cafe. Glancing back up from her phone to the person behind the counter, her cheeks flush with slight embarrasement.

"Shit, sorry," she apologizes. "What can I get for you? We're totally out of cinnamon rolls and chocolate croissants for the day, which totally is a bummer....," she adds on.

[redcreeksavannah]

@ofvolatile

LA LA LAND (2016) dir. Damien Chazelle

[redcreeksavannah]

As for Austin and me? Well, I finally got my cell phone back. We wound up going to Princeton together and lived happily ever after.

A CINDERELLA STORY, dir. Mark Rosman (2004)