secndbest

[secndbest]

EACH WORD OF PRAISE WAS ANOTHER slash across reeve's skin, every play at humility another drop of poison in a freshly opened wound. the worst part ? none of it was surprising. it didn't matter that reeve worked his ass off over the last two weeks getting the party together, spending hours upon hours workshopping theme ideas and playlists and suffering through eliza's 'contributions' all because he wanted the night to go off without a hitch. it didn't matter that luke's only real contribution was the flash of a black card the night before, when one of their junior members spilled a beer all over the stereo and forced them to replace it last minute. beyond that, luke spent the last two weeks jerking off who knew where—— certainly not anywhere near the party planning. none of that mattered, though. not when luke sinclair was u-dubs own personal jesus-fucking-christ, turning water into wine and lead into gold. if something on campus was good, it was only because luke had made it good. god forbid anybody else get any of the credit.

really, the only actually surprising part of any of this was that reeve thought, if just for a moment, that this time might be different.

beside the golden boy, he does his best to drown out the gaggle of fans, fingers absently fiddling with the white gold hoop in his freshly pierced ear as his gaze stuck stubbornly on a fixed point on the opposite side of the room. it's only when a pair of baby blues come into view and a steady arm falls over his shoulders that he's pulled from his internalized spiral of self-pity. a blink-and-you-miss-it moment has him meeting luke's praise with a flash of ire, swiftly replaced by a grateful smile and a swell of pride in his chest. it was ultimately better for everyone that he just accept the situation as it was— as it always would be. besides, the unfortunate truth was that luke's praise meant more to reeve than the praise of half the people at that damn party combined.

( the doubly unfortunate truth was that he suspected luke knew that too, going so far as to wonder sometimes if that was partly why he took all the credit to begin with. to create an artificial scarcity that only he could fill. in the rare moments reeve decided to be honest with himself, he wondered if that was why he let him get away with it. )

❝ you know i have a strict no spoilers policy, sinclair, ❞ reeve snorted, freeing himself from luke's hold as he made to stand from his seat and turn around. ❝ but— i might have an early showing. that is, if you think your adoring public won't miss you too much ? ❞ a brow arched, something bordering on a challenge in his words as he looked down at luke from this higher vantage point. after a beat, he held out a hand, ready to help the other man up should he choose to take him up on the offer.

CLOSED , @secndbest .

' yo , this party fucks ! '

' hell ya . shit's —— epic ! '

' luke , man , you're a legend . '

a thousand and one compliments rained down upon the golden boy , showering him in glory and feeding the perpetual hunger of a greedy ego . despite the darkness which fell outside , neon lights and the fractured reflection of copious amounts of glitter bounced off of ivory canines . the muscles in his jaw ached from hours of smiling .

a hand clapped against the back of his most recent admirer , followed by a casual shrug — as if to say ' its no big deal , really ' . a subtle act of humility to offset the growing pride swelled within a puffed chest . as the individual melted back into the shadow's and , luke twisted , his ice blue eyes falling to reeve . lips pressed together , offering a softer smile . one without fangs . a coy simper . " it is a great party . our best yet . "

luke's toned , sun-kissed arm fell over the other's broad shoulders before leaning in — to be heard over the music without being heard by everyone . a whisper of praise for reeve's ears alone . it was luke's party after all ( alpha delta's fearless leader ) , even if he hadn't planned it . still . . . " couldn't have done it without you . i mean — shit — how'd you pull this off ? . . . any other surprises up those sleeves ? "

[secndbest]

WAS HE STUDYING ART ? his kneejerk reaction was to say no. though art was often in the title of what he did, he'd never really seen it as such. performance, theater, media ... every production was more a puzzle to figure out than a blank canvas designed for limitless possibilities. in most cases, he was just following a set of memorized patterns in order to get a desired result or emotional reaction. was that really art ? he didn't think so, but he also wasn't sure he should say as such given the wild energy she was throwing his way. ❝ directing, ❞ he corrected, allowing her to decide if she saw that as 'art' or not. ❝ i have to go to the art building sometimes for props and stuff. i've seen a few other pieces by him there. i like the patterns in those ones, but this one, ❞ he trailed off, turning back to look at the piece in question. he clicked his tongue at it. ❝ maybe i just need a change in perspective. ❞ he gestured from her to the painting, a silent response of by all means.

It was no surprise that Kody had gotten distracted. A new drink was in hand and a painting full of eyes, whimsey and all the right colors was the perfect combination to stop her in her tracks. Hearing a voice, and the name of the artist, she turned with a grin on her face. "Right! How did you know that? Are you studying art?" No matter what the medium was, Kody was obsessed with artists, they were her people and could understand the way her mind worked and her dedication far more than anyone else. "Well, I do see some faces in it, do you want me to show you?"

[secndbest]

𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐬 : closed for @orteskycam 𝐬𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 : by the pool

AT A PARTY, THERE WERE THREE UNIVERSAL TRUTHS : if there was a bonfire, there was a guy with a guitar at it ; if there was a bed, there was a couple fucking in it ; and if there was a pool, there was a group of shitheads throwing people into it. a trio of adp pledges had taken it upon themselves to fulfill that third truth, each one of them more terribly dull than the last. reeve watched their routine from the sidelines, camera out as more of a habit than anything : pick an unsuspecting target— usually a girl or duo of girls just minding their own business, swoop in, hoist them up, throw them into the deep end, pound another beer to celebrate, and repeat every ten to thirty minutes. it was all rather juvenile, reeve thought, but if nothing else, it made for decent b-roll.

when cam stepped out, he felt his stomach drop. out here, standing out was a death sentence, and nothing stood out quite like a fashion faux pas. it was like a time bomb had been set, the bright red and orange sunflowers decorating their torso creating a proverbial and literal target on their back. reeve watched as the pledges tapped each other on the chest, pointed her out, snickering as they geared up to serve another lamb to the slaughter. but before they could make their move, reeve cut them off, his warning glare powerful enough to burn holes in the sides of their thick-headed ( and apparently suicidal ) skulls. seeing that, their shit-eating grins faltered, heads dropping, a trio of over-enthusiastic dogs instantly heeled with a single, disapproving look. good. reeve covered up enough for camille already ; he didn't need to sour the party mood by letting her add murder to the list.

with that settled, he pushed past the trio to approach the younger ortesky himself, his tone caught somewhere between playful banter and genuine accusation as he called out, ❝ you know, i'm pretty sure i explicitly said no hawaiian shirts on the invite. ❞ stopping in front of them, he marked the words with a quick flick of the offending garment's collar. ❝ i'm surprised eliza let you leave in that. ❞

[secndbest]

IT'S SOMEWHERE BETWEEN "y'know, paul mccartney once claimed that one in four men are gay" and "paul and john were probably in some toxic on and off thing" that reeve starts to tune milo out. he knows he should just interrupt, throw the wad of cash in his pocket at milo's face and snatch the little bag of goods they toss between their palms before he can really unpack what he must have done to deserve this. instead, reeve opts to wait it out, allows himself to get distracted by the interesting angles of milo's face. at some point in the night, he took a tab that now makes the slope of milo's jaw particularly thrilling to look at, so he follows it from their chin to their gonial angle, marveling at the sharpness of the bend there, before stopping at their ear where his eyes linger. it's distracting, the way the lights from the party make milo's jewelry sparkle like stars.

it goes quiet, and it takes reeve a moment to realize he's been caught. ❝ oh, uh, ❞ his own voice sounds odd, way too scratchy and nervous— insecure . he chalks it up to the drugs and clears his throat. ❝ no, i was just— did getting all that hurt, or ... ? ❞ he flicks his finger against his own earlobe, completely bare compared to the plethora of huggies and studs decorating milo's.

𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐫 — reeve aziz 𝐥𝐨𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 — driveway

milo sort of feels like they're holding reeve hostage, but at the very least, it's funny. he's roped plenty of people into conversation mid deal, but this one was something of an accomplishment. they didn't get off to the best start, and though many people disliked milo, reeve's was a faster onset than they would have expected. so, they take this chance, smile dumbly at his drunken geniality, lean against their car with a cigarette and just yap. it's only after a while that they feel that burning sensation on the side of their face, eyes on them. a pang of insecurity manages to claw through the layers of intoxication, and a hand goes to absently fidget with the metal in their ear "uh, i have something on my face?"

@secndbest

[secndbest]

REEVE'S AWARENESS OF HIS CHAPTER'S vice president was tangential at best, their lives always in the periphery of the other's but never fully crossing. any interaction they did have tended to be superficial, centered only on frat dealings or their mutual friendship with luke and never leaving that specific bubble. this was in part because reeve didn't really care to learn much about kingston, but also because kingston didn't seem like he had much to learn about. his life was just too perfectly curated, the exact blend of ordinary and extraordinary to make it so he never stood out, but was never questioned either. it kept reeve from getting curious ( read : suspicious ), though it also kept the two of them from talking about anything personal— anything real.

maybe tonight would be the night that finally changed.

taking the bottle from kingston, reeve scoffed, ❝ please. from what i saw, you're going to be too busy to carry anyone anywhere. not unless that person happens to be isla wardwell. ❞ the moment he said isla's name, he reached up, tapping the cap of the bottle against kingston's forehead. while he hadn't seen most of their conversation on the couch, he'd seen enough. ❝ you can thank me for inviting her at any point by the way. ❞

LOCATION: the kitchen FOR: @secndbest

His social battery was running low. It really hadn't taken long, Marcus Kingston had never enjoyed parties the way his brother had. The novelty of big crowds and loud music was lost on him, the kind of guy who would rather be alone in his room with a book of Sudoku and dimmed lighting. But that wasn't the future he had signed up for, and it was a lifetime commitment now. Hiding out in the kitchen while everyone else seemed to be making out in the living room or laughing outside, weary eyes turned at the sound of footsteps, snapping back into his personality before Reeve could notice anything was off. He liked to think he'd gotten pretty good at it by now. ❝ Hey, man, ❞ he greeted him, taking a step backwards to grab a water bottle, holding it out to his . . . friend? ❝ Stay hydrated. I don't want to be carrying none of your asses back to your rooms tonight when y'all can't hang. ❞ But he would ; he knew what it was like when someone didn't get home safely.

[secndbest]

𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐬 : closed for @finalghost 𝐬𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 : a quick kiki on the upstairs balcony

❝ OKAY, FINE. I'LL ADMIT IT. ❞ her heel had barely made it up the last step when reeve, draped over the landing rail overlooking the crowd, caught eliza out the corner of his eye and called out. ❝ you had a couple of good ideas. ❞ more than a couple, but even with how unlikely either of them were to remember this conversation come morning, reeve had a hard enough time getting his own fair dues to feel comfortable relinquishing much credit. still, with the party stretched out before them— laughter sounding from the kitchen over shots of cherry schnapps, dance floor balloons exploding into showers of glitter confetti, a game of suck and blow gathering on the living room floor— he felt he had to give eliza something.

[secndbest]

𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐬 : closed for @g0dcountry 𝐬𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 : alpha delta phi fraternity house, on the outskirts of a makeshift dance floor

HE HALF EXPECTS HER TO BE AN APPARITION, the sight of her face in the same frame as a sea of red solo cups and vape smoke so genuinely unbelievable that he's sure she'll disappear if he blinks just one more time. it doesn't happen though. double take, triple take, quadruple, it didn't matter ; isla wardwell remained fixed in reality no matter how many times reeve took his eyes off her. with that realization, he no longer could.

❝ shit, you actually came ! ❞ the greeting came from the middle of the dance floor, reeve all toothy smiles and sharp elbows as he pushed through the throng of bodies to get to her on the fringes. there was a wickedly manic aura to him here, a far cry from the man she knew over textbooks and flash cards, who bitched and moaned over formulas and always seemed just that little bit off, like his mere existence had turned into something chronic, painful, and ill-fitting. even here, he couldn't hide that part of himself entirely— something still misshapen beneath his metamorphosis, though dulled, somewhat, beneath magenta light and the gleaming approval of others enjoying something he had made ( even if their words of praise were wholly misdirected ). were he standing next to luke, the discrepancy would be entirely too obvious. thankfully, luke was tending to his subjects elsewhere, his loyal guard dog left free to his own devices and away from any sort of immediate comparison. for now, at least, he could transform.

as could she, it seemed ! when he invited isla, the action born somewhere between pity and curiosity ( and, perhaps distantly, a smidge of gratitude ), he expected nothing short of a miracle for her to even show up. to see her not only here, but dressed up, fully immersed in a party scene ? well ... maybe it was time to start going back to church.

❝ what the hell, isla ! ❞ arms flew out in what could have been exasperation, if not for the grin still tugging at his face. ❝ it's like ... shit, i don't know. ❞ late. it was late, but he'd lost track of time ( and his phone ) somewhere between britney and the dare. ❝ how long have you been here ? ❞ better yet, ❝ what made you change your mind ?? ❞ even better yet, ❝ do you ever play poker ??? ❞

[secndbest]

𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐬 : closed for @kcdysb​ 𝐬𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 : alpha delta phi fraternity lounge room

CUTTING THROUGH THE LOUNGE ON his way to the pool from the dance floor, reeve stopped suddenly and, to be honest, not entirely sure why. sure, this was maybe the first time he’d ever seen kody suzuki-braun alone, with no thomas in front of her and no milo hanging off her back, but it wasn’t like she was of any particular interest to him. she was just the girlfriend of someone he happened to know, little more than a topic for playful banter whenever thomas was around, and locker room style consideration whenever thomas was decisively not. nevertheless, he does stop, specks of glitter scattering to the floor as he tossed a quick finger to the painting he'd caught her looking at. ❝ arreguin, right ? ❞ reeve asked, genuinely unsure. they'd received the piece a few weeks before— something about end of life care and paying respects to an old friend— but reeve didn’t know much about it. he just recognized the style from pieces in the art building. ❝ someone told me there’s supposed to be a bunch of faces in it, but i don’t really see them. just a lot of spirals. ❞ said spirals being incredibly dizzying to look at, amped up on a cocktail of booze and party drugs as he was. he turned to look at her instead, brow raised. ❝ what about you ? tommy mentioned you're an artist, so what do your artist eyes see ? ❞

[secndbest]

# 𝐓𝐀𝐒𝐊 𝟎𝟎𝟑 : 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐘𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐎𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐌𝐄

a bit of tasteful body paint and a shotgunned white claw never hurt nobody. ©

[secndbest]

HAD HE BEEN TOLD THE day before that he'd be bro-ing out with thomas ortesky at a beer pong table in 24 hours time, reeve would have snorted and rolled his eyes. as far as he was concerned, just because luke decided to turn the dope into his newest pet project didn't mean reeve had to do anything more than mildly tolerate it. and yet, there they were, a duo made : reeve aziz, a notoriously bad shot and even worse loser, and thomas ortesky, apparently the only soul willing to team up with that.

with every sweet syllable of encouragement, the bounce in reeve's step grew. between the alcohol in his system and the high of competition, his whole body thrummed with electric energy. under thomas' hands, he practically vibrated. ❝ jesus, ortesky, why aren't you like this all the time ? ❞ he teased, shaking the other off before throwing him a grin. maybe if he were, reeve would finally understand why luke insisted on dragging him around everywhere.

setting himself up at the table, he eyed the other end. only a few more cups and they'd have the cleanest win of the night so far— impressive, really, considering reeve's track record. he had to wonder if maybe thomas was just some freakish good luck charm. with that in mind, he stepped back, lining up to target a cup in the back row. he knows he's overshot before the ball even fully leaves his fingertips.

airball. a complete whiff. it soars past their opponents heads and lands, unceremoniously, at the feet of the crowd, never so much as skimming the table.

reeve's cheeks go hot immediately, lips pressing into a thin line as their opponents burst into thunderous, targeted laughter and buffoon-like hollers. a sharp, ruinous glare is turned their way, enough to shut up some of the snickers from the crowd at least, but not their opponents. they're young— sophomores maybe, don't know better. not yet, anyway.

❝ fucking morons, ❞ reeve huffed, lifting the cup nearest to him and downing it in one easy swoop as the rules dictated. being the cause for their first sunk cup stung, no doubt, but it paled in comparison to the realization that thomas now had to be the one to bail him out. he turned to him, tapping him two times on the chest with the back of his hand as he passed, trading places. ❝ up to you now, ortesky, ❞ he said, voice low, a warning in his words veiled beneath what could easily be read as simple expectation and 'friendly' team banter. ❝ don't disappoint. ❞

𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐫 — 𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘷𝘦 𝘢𝘻𝘪𝘻 𝐥𝐨𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 — 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘨𝘦

" FUCK MAN , YOU ALMOST HAD IT !! " their opponent groans as their partner's ball bounces just off the rim of one of the red solo cups arranged on the table , ricocheting off plastic and landing somewhere amongst the small crowd that has gathered to watch the game and , impatiently , wait for their turn on the table . crouching down to scoop up the ball ( the room spinning as he did so , alcohol working overtime to ensure the world in which thomas existed was nothing short of a blur ) , the eldest ortesky grinned as he pressed the ball he had just gathered into his partner - reeve's - chest.

" they're fuckin' garbage , dude . they haven't even gotten a cup yet , " spoken low , an eager and competitive purr wrapping around his words as he moved behind reeve , clasping both of his shoulders , and giving him an encouraging shake . lowering his voice to a whisper , thomas leaned in closer ; like they were sharing some kind of secret . " you got this . we each get a ball in then we can ask for a new formation and we'll fuckin' smoke 'em . " a coach , revving up a player he was counting on . releasing reeve , scooping up his own ball from the table , thomas grinned as he moved back beside his teammate .

" first shots all yours . "

@secndbest

[secndbest]

[secndbest]

# 𝐓𝐀𝐒𝐊 𝟎𝟎𝟐 : 𝐃𝐔𝐒𝐓 & 𝐃𝐔𝐅𝐅𝐋𝐄𝐁𝐀𝐆𝐒.

items lost: - luke's phone ( thrown into the river )

[secndbest]

IT ONLY MADE SENSE, her being there. any time something went wrong for one of them, the other always managed to be at the scene of the crime ready to rub it in and capitalize with an all too pleased smile on their face. he steeled himself in the face of her mockery, remaining silent against it save for the sharp, pained breaths through the nose as she slithered closer. how she still managed to reek of vanilla out in the middle of the woods was beyond him, but the stench made his stomach roll.

even her featherlight touch was enough to send his nerves on end again. razor sharp pain raced from his deltoid to his clavicle, forcing an unwanted show of vulnerability through his teeth. in a flash, his left hand gripped the wrist of her right, hard enough for the tips of his fingernails to press into her skin. ❝ need i remind you that you would have died in that cabin if not for me, ❞ he hissed, not even a little bit surprised she had yet to say thank you. were the roles reversed, he wouldn't say it either.

— ELIZA WAS A PARTICLE of dust , floating through the atmosphere aimlessly . without purpose . she'd slowly conceded to the rattling marbles that had replaced her brain — hopeless at holding on to a thought longer than three purposeful steps & two blinks of her long lashes before it was lost to the wind . even now , as she ambled through the winding trees , eliza was without a clue as to why she continued to follow invisible bread crumbs . then , a soft sound ( a hushed whimper , the cry of a pup ) fluttered through her ears , leading the woman further into the dense foliage with fresh intent .

a simper , dark & wicked against her pale , porcelain face , painted kittenish lips as she moved out from the shadows . her arms crossed over her chest , watching the scene silently — a sick sort of delight swimming in the depths of her large pupils .

" sounds like it hurts , " she hummed , a finger lazily pointing to his shoulder before folding back against her arms . " what ? did you try to fistfight our little ghost friend or something ? "

sauntering closer , the anguish on reeve's face becoming ever more apparent — like fine details in a somber portrait — his hulking shadow engulfed her , encasing all but the twinkle of her eyes in muted darkness . " if you need a helping hand , just -- " one arm fell to her hip while the other hovered in the air , inches from his face , as though she intended to wipe one of the budding tears from his red-rimmed eyes . " say . . . " instead , it diverted its course . two fingers lightly pressed into reeve's shoulder , teasing the taut muscles & tingling nerves . " 'please'. "

[secndbest]

w̸̓̑h̶̾͝ï̸̀ċ̵̏h̸͊͋ ̵̏͑o̷̓ne of you has been̓ ̶͛snooping t͐͒h̸̆͛r̶̐͑o̸͠ug̔h̴̒͝ my shit

ï̶̪f̸̈́͂ ̴̞̔y̴͋̒o̵̓̌ú̷̩ ̶̓want to know what's on ̷̘͌m̸̦͘y̶̆ phone ͚s̴̛o bad̈̄,̸ you̴̡̇ ̵̺́cou̸͝ld've jus̨̒t̵̢̍ ̴͘asked

it could have been anyone. maybe one of the others found out and was fucking with him, or maybe somebody outside the group was onto them. there was any number of reasons more plausible for those messages than the one that had first come to mind : that the vengeful spirit of luke sinclair was here, really here, and he knew what reeve had done.

he didn't know how he got to the river. one second he was looking at the group chat with shaking hands and a deathlike pallor, the next he was at the water's edge tossing the slick black casing of luke's phone between sweaty palms. there was intent somewhere, lingering in the back of his mind behind words spelled out on a ouiji board and spoken in isla's tongue, that he should throw it. be done with it. that it was more trouble than holding onto it was worth. occasionally, he would pause, clench his jaw, reel back his only good arm, phone in hand... and inevitably let it drop back to his side. again and again he tried and failed, growing increasingly more agitated with every attempt— every reason why not. if he threw that phone in the river, another part of luke would disappear. if he threw that phone in the river, his secrets would be lost. if he threw that phone in the river, reeve would no longer have a way of seeing what it was like to be so sorely missed.

pathetic, that's what he was. pathetic and sentimental and, as ever, a sore loser. no matter how hard he tried to reinvent himself and be someone worth noticing, these were things inescapable. stains on his very soul.

once more, reeve raised his arm, but instead of stopping the throw of his own volition, it was something else that kept him : a familiar voice. he spun quick on his heel, the force of the motion knocking him off-kilter and causing him to stumble slightly back on the rocky bank, closer to the water. ❝ what— ❞ he tried to speak, but the sound was little more than a choked wheeze in the face of a corporeal luke sinclair. he tried to shake his head, but the image didn't go away. without fail, luke's too-sharp, too-bright smile still beamed back at him every time he closed and opened his eyes, leaving him with the childish urge to hide the phone behind his back, like a kid caught with their hand in the cookie jar.

but then another instinct rose in response, stronger and born from ego. later, maybe, he could think on the insanity of the moment and how readily he had accepted the impossible. now, however, he found himself raising a chin to luke, meeting him with a combativeness that felt like embracing an old friend. ❝ oh, i didn't find much, really. enough to ruin your golden boy reputation with some people maybe, but, ❞ he sucked his tongue between his teeth and gave a loose, one-shouldered shrug. ❝ i thought the folder was interesting. i mean... you've got kody's nudes out in the open in your photos, but feel the need to hide something else behind a technological lockbox ? explain that one. ❞

CLOSED , @secndbest .

the river gurgled , bubbling on the bank harmoniously , its waters an almost glimmering onyx under the endless blanket of nightfall . it had not taken him long to sense reeve , finding him too quickly amidst the dense forests that covered monte cristo's mountain . after all , luke had been keeping an eye on him . reeve . his dear friend , one of his favorite's . . . at least , that's what he had thought the man to be . until reeve struck him , left him , stole his life — piece by piece . stole--

" my phone . " the polished toe of his shoe tapped against the pebbled floor , a manic tune that clashed with the coolness of his words . still , despite the composure he fought to maintain , the man's right eye began to twitch ever so slightly , emphasizing the sharp point's of smiling teeth . " how much have you seen ? how much do you wanna see ?? "

[secndbest]

FINDING A MOMENT TO APPROACH kody when milo wasn't orbiting around her quickly proved a difficult task. for once though, reeve didn't really mind. words, like the remnant particles of the nearby cabin now turned to blackened charcoal, felt stuck in his throat— too many to say and not a one of them good. around the outskirts he paced, spine aching with every unbidden flash of memory : cracking against the cabin's support beam, eyes opening blearily to kody's body on the floor / kody's body covered in blood / kody's body eaten by flames. just the week prior they'd lain beside each other in his luke's his bed as she talked about dreams and art while he marveled almost enviously at the passion pouring out of her, precious and sacred. what would he do if he came in and saw that that was gone ? that, like the others, one of the only people who had supported his idea now resented him for it too ? what could he even say ? there were no good words for something like that.

still, the moment eventually came. milo left, wandering off to fuck-knows-where and leaving reeve free to enter the cabin after only a moment's hesitation. even with the dried blood still stuck to her skin, the sight of kody upright and moving was a relief. ❝ i hope step two isn't 'develop telekinesis and destroy the entire town'. ❞ from the cabin doorway, he greet her with a hint of playfulness. levity— it seemed like an impossible thing after the night they all had, but he suspected she had more than enough fussing and fluttering hands from the others ; it'd be out of character if he started treating her like she was made of glass too.

`✦ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹ 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐨𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧: kody, milo & tom's tent

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎Whether it was a good or a bad thing, the blisters on her arms were a searing bright red only after a few hours against her skin and painful when she ran her fingertips over it, but she could see it. Not just feel it. She could see. Her vision wasn't fully back and Kody wasn't entirely sure if this was as much as she would get back but it was better than seeing nothing. When she hadn't been able to see, it had terrified her. Like the consequences of her past had finally caught up to her but were they even her consequences? The sin of the parent, the sin of the child.

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ Running a cloth over her skin as gently as she could, Kody was shocked to still see the dull red that came away from her throat, wondering if there had been any part of her skin that hadn't been tinged crimson. She had to be close to being done. Glancing at her, well not hers since everything she'd brought had gone up in flames, but Milo's phone, she checked her reflection and finally, finally, she didn't see any blood in the reflection. "Okay, okay that's step one."

[secndbest]

𝐒𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆: in the woods a bit outside of camp; somewhere no one can hear you scream... hopefully 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐒: open

THE FIRST TIME HE'D DISLOCATED A SHOULDER, he'd been nine years old sitting in the backyard treehouse of his grandparents' home when antonio, six, had climbed up in spite of reeve's protests. the ensuing argument inevitably turned into a scuffle, which then resulted in reeve shouldering the 10 foot drop off the edge after a particularly powerful kick on antonio's part. from there, it became hard to remember the details through tears and screaming and searing pain, though from his parents retellings ( who, despite not being present, still told the story any chance they could ), samuel had apparently raced over and, despite only being thirteen at the time, expertly popped the bone back into place. while reeve didn't remember that part as clearly, the moments that came after were as clear as daylight. sam got his pick from the treat cabinet—celebrated for his quick-thinking and ingenuity, toni got to play in the treehouse all afternoon, and reeve... reeve was made to sit inside all day while his gran lectured him on roughhousing. it was a full week before he was allowed in the treehouse again.

there were more injuries after that. sprains, breaks, more dislocated shoulders. the benefit of having a future doctor for an older brother meant a lot of it could be taken care of at home. quickly, he learned how to set a broken nose, stitch up a cut, disinfect bloody knuckles, and, importantly, pop a shoulder back into place. when he could no longer get samuel's help with it, he eventually learned how to do it all himself.

or, well. mostly by himself. the thing about a dislocated shoulder is that you should not pop it back on your own. not that reeve cared, particularly in that moment as he lined himself up with a tree, thinking only of 2 things: how little he wanted to be lectured again, and how cool mel gibson looked doing this in lethal weapon 2.

unfortunately, reeve was not mel gibson, and this was not lethal weapon 2. on impact, his senses blurred—just as they had when he was nine years old, searing pain ripping through his body and sending pinpricks of tears to the corners of his tightly shut eyes. his jaw clenched to swallow a scream that still leaked out in a pathetic whimper, quickly followed by an impassioned swear. at his side, his shoulder remained just as dislocated as before. if anything, it was a miracle he didn't make it worse.

[secndbest]

# 𝐓𝐀𝐒𝐊 𝟎𝟎𝟏 : 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐓.

everyone loves a good story, and luke tells the best. but, when he took to spilling reeve's most private moments as they all sat around the campfire, he couldn’t just sit back and listen. a fight broke out — quickly escalating from yelling to fists-flying. it was the last time the group saw luke before he stormed into the woods, nose bleeding. too focused on their dear friend, nobody saw reeve swipe luke’s phone from off the ground.

𝐌𝐀𝐘𝐁𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘 𝐖𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃 𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐃 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐈𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘 𝐊𝐍𝐄𝐖 𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐎𝐍 𝐈𝐓 . . .

okay so some info...

reeve has gone through the phone ! namely luke's text messages, media, and social networks. he found a password locked folder in his files named "blackmail material." after 5 failed attempts, the folder is set to delete itself. reeve has used up 3 attempts so far and has absolutely no idea what the password is as of yet. he has brought the phone with him to monte cristo.

connection idea : i think it would be really fun if someone knew that luke's phone had been active at some point following the trip. maybe reeve accidentally liked an insta post on luke's account, or forgot to turn off read receipts at first and someone noticed. if anyone would be interested in filling this connection, please please please hit me up because i think it could be really fun for things later down the road.

i have created a google form for people to submit any information they think would be on luke's phone. this includes having things in the locked blackmail folder. it should be noted that if you submit something that isn't in the locked folder, there is a very good chance that reeve has seen it. it should also be noted that things in the locked folder could eventually become unlocked, but i leave that in the hands of the admins and the group at large.

i pinky promise that no matter what gets submitted, i have absolutely no want or intent to metagame. if you ever decide to rescind something that's been submitted, just let me know and i will happily delete it from the responses and my memory ! also ! no one is expected to submit anything if they do not want to !! this is just a fun collaborative aspect for anyone that's interested :>