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brookston · 1 month ago

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Holidays 11.22

Holidays

Alice's Restaurant Massacre Day

Arbor Day (British Virgin Islands)

Bank Workers’ Day (Armenia)

Black Entrepreneurs Day

Conspiracy Theory Day

Day of Justice (Azerbaijan)

Day of Music (Spain)

Day of Remembrance for President John F. Kennedy

Day of the Albanian Alphabet (Albania)

Day of the Andalusian Gypsy (Spain)

Family Day (Palau)s

Go For A Ride Day

Good Married Couple Day (a.k.a. Good Husband & Wife Day or Good Spouses Day; Japan)

Good Twin Tail Day (Japan)

Hockey Day

Humane Society Day

International Chick Tract Day

International Ewing’s Sarcoma Awareness Day

International Musician’s Day

Isfahan National Day (Iran)

JFK Assassination Day

Justice Workers’ Day (Azerbaijan)

Kanakdasa Jayanti (Karnataka, India)

Love Your Freckles Day

Love Your Own Country Day

Music Day (Spain)

Musician’s Day (Mexico)

National Agriculture & Related Industries Day (Australia)

National Amelia Day

National Aron Day

National Dental Dam Day

National Dental Nurses Day (UK)

National Housing Strategy Day (Canada)

National Jukebox Day

National Larimar Day (Dominican Republic)

National Nathan Day

National Poetry Day (Philippines)

National Senior Dog Day

National Stop the Violence Day

National Yeti Day

Phonograph Day

Pajama Day (Ireland)

Prosecutors’ Day (Kyrgyzstan)

Psychologist Day (Russia)

Repentence Day (Sachsen, Germany)

Skywriting Day

Slumber Party Day

Start Your Own Country Day

Substitute Educators Day

Teacher’s Day (Costa Rica)

Turnip Day (French Republic)

22q Awareness Day

White Album Day

World Day of the Schnauzer

World Vasectomy Day

Xanthippe Asteroid Day

Food & Drink Celebrations

Cranberry Relish Day

Danish Pastry Day (Wienerbrödets Dag; Sweden)

International Stilton Day

Kimchi Day (South Korea; California)

National Cashew Day

Independence & Related Days

Anniversary of Portuguese Aggression (Republic of Guinea)

Duvalia (Declared; 2015) [unrecognized]

Lebanon (from France, 1943)

Regelis (Declared; 1999) [unrecognized]

4th Friday in November

Comfort Food Friday [Every Friday]

Five For Friday [Every Friday]

Flapjack Friday [4th Friday of Each Month]

Flashback Friday [Every Friday]

Flirtatious Friday [4th Friday of Each Month]

Friday Finds [Every Friday]

Fry Day (Pastafarian; Fritism) [Every Friday]

National Day of Thanksgiving (Turks & Caicos Islands) [4th Friday]

Stars in Our Schools Day (UK) [4th Friday]

TGIF (Thank God It's Friday) [Every Friday]

Weekly Holidays beginning November 22 (3rd Full Week of November)

Deck the Halls Weekend (Seneca Lake region, New York) [thru 11.24]

National Farm-City Week (thru 11.28) [Week Ending On Thanksgiving]

Festivals Beginning November 22, 2024

America's Hometown Thanksgiving (Plymouth, Massachusetts) [thru 11.24]

Beaujolais & Beyond (Saint Paul, Minnesota)

Beef Tongue Cook-Off (Eunice, Louisiana) [thru 11.23]

Bruges Christmas Market (Bruges, Belgium) [thru 1.5.2025]

Cayman Brac (Cayman Islands) [thru 11.24]

Denver Christmas Show (Denver, Colorado) [thru 11.24]

Downtown Baraboo Wine Walk (Baraboo, Wisconsin)

Downtown Raleigh Tree Lighting Celebration (Raleigh, North Carolina)

FOBAB [Festival of Wood & Barrel-Aged Beer] (Chicago, Illinois) [thru 11.23]

Mountain Mandarin Festival (Auburn, California) [thru 11.24]

National Biodynamic Conference (Phoenixville, Pennsylvania) [thru 11.24]

Night of the Proms (Antwerp, Belgium) [thru 11.24]

Plant City Pig Jam (Plant City, Florida) [thru 11.23]

Salute to Ranching Holiday Dinner-Dance & Auction (Workman's Creek, Arizona)

Silver Bells in the City (Lansing, Michigan)

Tallinn Christmas Market (Tallinn, Estonia) [thru 12.27]

Whiskies of the World (Chicago, Illinois)

Feast Days

Amphilochius of Iconium (Christian; Saint)

André Gide (Writerism)

Blackbeard Memorial Day (Pastafarian)

Cecilia (Christian; Saint) [Music]

Christian Rohlfs (Artology)

Clone Day (Church of the SubGenius)

Colbert (Positivist; Saint)

Descending Day of Lord Buddha (Lhabab Duechen) [Bhutan]

Dispute-Settling Assizes (Shamanism)

Feast of Artemis (Moon Goddess; Ancient Greece; Starza Pagan Book of Days)

George (Eastern Orthodox; Georgia)

George Eliot (Writerism)

Herbert (Christian; Saint)

Ignaz Günther (Artology)

Jon Cleary (Writerism)

Light Snow (Chinese Farmer’s Calendar)

Marjane Satrapi (Artology; Writerism)

Miguel Covarrubias (Artology)

Olga Kisseleva (Artology)

Philemon and Appia (Christian; Martyrs)

Pragmatius of Autun (Christian; Saint)

Sagittarius zodiac sign begins

Samonios (Seed-Fall; Celtic Book of Days)

Theodorus the Studite (Christian; Saint)

Vernon the Grizzly Bear (Muppetism)

Ydalir (festival to Ullr, god of archery & skiing; Ancient Norse)

Lucky & Unlucky Days

Sensho (先勝 Japan) [Good luck in the morning, bad luck in the afternoon.]

Premieres

The Addams Family (Film; 1991)

The Air Hostess (Phantasies Cartoon; 1937)

An American Tail: Fievel Goes West (Animated Film; 1991)

Back to the Future Part II (Film; 1989)

The Beatles [The White Album] (Album; 1968)

Beauty and the Beast (Animated Disney Film; 1991)

Bettie Page Reveals All (Documentary Film; 2013)

Blue Hawaii (Film; 1961) [Elvis Presley #8]

Boléro, by Maurice Ravel (Orchestral Work; 1928)

Captain Kidd (Film; 1945)

Casino (Film; 1995)

The Check’s in the Mail (Money Rock Cartoon; Schoolhouse Rock; 1996)

Clambake (Film; 1967)

Coco (Animated Film; 2017)

Convict Concerto (Woody Woodpecker Cartoon; 1954)

Darkest Hour (Film; 2017)

Die Another Day (US Film; 2002) [James Bond #20]

For the Boys (Film; 1991)

Frida (Film; 2002)

Frozen (Animated Disney Film; 2013)

Frozen 2 (Animated Disney Film; 2019)

Goofy’s Glider (Disney Cartoon; 1940)

The Hunger Games: Catching Fire (Film; 2013)

Hypnotize, by System of a Down (Album; 2005)

Jack and the Beanstalk (Betty Boop Cartoon; 1931)

Jelly Roll Blues, recorded by Bunny Berigan (Song; 1938)

La Forza del Destino, by Giuseppe Verdi (Opera; 1862)

A Lyell Geste of Robyn Hood, by Winked de Word (History Book; 1495)

King Solomon’s Mines (Film; 1985)

Man of La Mancha (Broadway Musical; 1965)

Olaf’s Frozen Adventure (Disney Cartoon; 2017)

Once Upon a Studio (Disney Short Film; 2023)

Pink S.W.A.T. (Pink Panther Cartoon; 1978)

Power and Terror: Noam Chomsky in Our Times (Documentary Film; 2002)

Prefabricated Pink (Pink Panther Cartoon; 1967)

The Producers (Film; 1967)

Shanghai Woody (Woody Woodpecker Cartoon; 1971)

Shine (Film; 1996)

Star Trek: First Contact (Film; 1996)

Swann’s Wy, by Marcel Proust (Novel; 1913)

Throne of Blood (Film; 1961)

Toy Story (Animated Pixar Film; 1995) Vitalogy, by Pearl Jam (Album; 1994)

Wish (Animated Disney Film; 2023)

With the Beatles, by The Beatles (Album; 1963)

Yogi Bear and the Magical Flight of the Spruce Goose(Hanna-Barbera Animated TV Special; 1987)

Today’s Name Days

Cäcilia, Salvator (Austria)

Cecilija, Cilika, Dobrila, Filemon (Croatia)

Cecílie (Czech Republic)

Cecilia (Denmark)

Cecilia, Säsil, Silja, Silje, Sille (Estonia)

Cecilia, Seela, Selja, Silja (Finland)

Cécile (France)

Cäcilia, Rufus, Salvator, Silja (Germany)

Cecilia, Filemon, Filimon, Philimon, Valerios (Greece)

Cecília (Hungary)

Cecilia (Italy)

Aldis, Aldonis, Alfons, Alfonss, Alfs (Latvia)

Cecilija, Cilė, Dargintė, Steikintas (Lithuania)

Cecilie, Silje, Sissel (Norway)

Cecylia, Marek, Maur, Wszemiła (Poland)

Arhip. Filimon, Onism (România)

Cecília (Slovakia)

Cecilio, Filemón (Spain)

Cecilia, Sissela (Sweden)

Cecelia, Philemon, Yaropolk (Ukraine)

Abbey, Abbie, Abby, Abigail, Cecelia, Cecil, Cecilia, Cecily, Cecyl, Celia, Gail Gale, Galen, Gay, Gayle, Philemon, Philo, Shayla, Sheila (USA)

Today is Also…

Day of Year: Day 327 of 2024; 39 days remaining in the year

ISO: Day 5 of Week 47 of 2024

Celtic Tree Calendar: Hagal (Hailstone) [Day 27 of 28]

Chinese: Month 10 (Yi-Hai), Day 22 (Geng-Yin)

Chinese Year of the: Dragon 4722 (until January 29, 2025) [Wu-Chen]

Hebrew: 21 Heshvan 5785

Islamic: 20 Jumada I 1446

J Cal: 27 Wood; Sixthday [27 of 30]

Julian: 9 November 2024

Moon: 50%: 3rd Quarter

Positivist: 19 Frederic (12th Month) [Pombal / D’Aranda]

Runic Half Month: Is (Stasis) [Day 1 of 15]

Season: Autumn or Fall (Day 61 of 90)

Week: 3rd Full Week of November

Zodiac: Sagittarius (Day 1 of 30)

Calendar Changes

Is (Stasis) [Half-Month 23 of 24; Runic Half-Months] (thru 12.10)

Sagittarius (The Archer) begins [Zodiac Sign 9; thru 12.21]

#calendar #Holidays

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brookstonalmanac · 2 months ago

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Holidays 11.8

Holidays

Abet and Aid Punsters Day

Aboriginal Veterans Day (Canada)

Aicardi Syndrome Awareness Day

Colorism Awareness Day

Day of Baku Metro Employees (Azerbaijan)

Days of History and Memory (Kyrgyzstan)

Euterpe Asteroid Day

Feast of Pamphleteers

Global Day of Action Against Waster Incineration

Going Ramos Day (Aklan, Philippines)

I Hate to Cook Day

International Cleaning Woman Day

International Day of Radiology

International Hug an Exchange Student Day

International Human Animal Bond Day

International Vampire Day

Intersex Day of Remembrance (a.k.a. Intersex Solidarity Day)

Leadworts Day (French Republic)

La Almudena (Madrid, Spain)

Merchant Sailing Ship Preservation Day

Moon Festival (Elder Scrolls)

National Aboriginal Veterans Day (Canada)

National Adam Day

National Ample Time Day

National Ashley Day

National Canine Companion Graduation Day

National Christopher Day

National Dunce Day

National Elevate Day

National First Generation College Student Day

National I Read Canadian Day (Canada)

National Irene Day

National Journalists Day (China)

National Kyle Day

National Leon Day

National Loneliness Awareness Day

National Parents As Teachers Day

National Shot Day

National Signing Day

National Spatial Planning Day (Indonesia)

National S.T.E.M. Day (a.k.a. National S.T.E.A.M. Day)

National Thalassemia Prevention Day (Pakistan)

Nice Boobs Day (Japan)

Octave Day of All Saints (Anglicanism)

Personal Liberty Day (Chicago celebration of Prohibition's repeal)

Plastic Free Lunch Day

Rorschach Test Day

School Sport Jersey Day (Canada)

Scylla Asteroid Day

Shakespeare Authorship Mystery Day

Symphonic Metal Day

Talk Money Day

Victory Day (Azerbaijan)

Vietnam Veterans Memorial Day

World Day Without Wi-Fi

World Gift Day

World Pianist Day

World Radiography Day (a.k.a. X-Ray Discovery Day)

World Town Planning Day

World Urbanism Day

World Ventil8 Day

X-Ray Day

Food & Drink Celebrations

Cook Something Bold and Pungent Day

Harvey Wallbanger Day

National Cappuccino Day

National Pupusa Day (El Salvador)

National Roast Dinner Day (UK)

Sandwich Day (Earl of Sandwich’s Birthday)

Try a New Recipe Day

Independence & Related Days

Montana Statehood Day (#41; 1889)

Pohnpei Constitution Day (Micronesia)

2nd Friday in November

Comfort Food Friday [Every Friday]

Domino Day [2nd Friday]

Fish & Chips Friday [2nd Friday of Each Month]

Five For Friday [Every Friday]

Flashback Friday [Every Friday]

Follow Friday [2nd Friday of Each Month]

Friday Finds [Every Friday]

Frugal Friday [2nd Friday of Each Month]

Fry Day (Pastafarian; Fritism) [Every Friday]

International Mushy Pea Day [2nd Friday]

National Donor Sabbath Weekend begins [2nd Friday]

National DTC (Direct-to-Consumers) Friday [2 Fridays before Black Friday]

National Walk to Work Day (Australia) [2nd Friday]

TGIF (Thank God It's Friday) [Every Friday]

Weekly Holidays beginning November 8 (1st Full Week of November)

Jersey Shore Restaurant Week (Jersey Shore, New Jersey) [thru 11.17]

San Francisco Restaurant Week (San Francisco, California) [thru 11.17]

Festivals Beginning November 8, 2024

ArmeniaFest (Carrollton, Texas) [thru 11.10]

Big Boy's Main Street Cook Off (Thibodaux, Louisiana)

Bilbao International Documentary and Short Film Festival (Bilbao, Spain) [thru 11.15]

California Wine Festival Huntington Beach (Huntington Beach, California) [thru 11.9]

Cayman Brac (Cayman Islands) [thru 11.17]

Eat Drink SF (San Francisco, California) [thru 11.17]

Garagiste Wine Festival (Paso Robles, California) [thru 11.10]

Lake Erie Maple Expo (Albion, Pennsylvania) [thru 11.9]

New England Christmas Festival (Uncasville, Connecticut) [thru 11.10]

Ricefest (Riceboro, Georgia) [thru 11.10]

Santiago International Book Fair (Santiago, Chile) [thru 11.17]

Sebastian Clambake (Sebastian, Florida) [thru 11.10]

South Carolina Peanut Party (Pelion, South Carolina) [thru 11.9]

Tallinn Black Nights Film Festival (Tallinn, Estonia) [thru 11.24]

Tarpon Springs Seafood Festival (Tarpon Springs, Florida) [thru 11.10]

Waterfowl Festival (Easton, Maryland) [thru 11.10]

Feast Days

Adeodatus I, Pope (Christian; Saint)

Appreciate Your Loved Ones Day (Pastafarian)

Arduino Cantafora (Artology)

Big Bird’s Daddy (Muppetism)

Bram Stoker (Writerism)

Charles Demuth (Artology)

Clarence Gagnon (Artology)

Cybi (a.k.a. Cuby; Christian; Saint)

Demetrius (Orthodox Church; Saint)

Deusdedit (Christian; Saint)

Elizabeth of the Trinity (Roman Catholic Church; Blessed)

Erika Abels d'Albert (Artology)

The Feast of the Four Crowned Ones

Feast of the Kitchen Goddess (Pagan)

Festival of the Mania (Ancient Rome)

Four Crowned Brothers (Christian; Martyrs)

George Bouzianis (Artology)

Godfrey of Amiens (Christian; Saint)

Fuigo Matsuri (Honoring Hettsui No Kami, Kitchen-Range Goddess; Shinto; Japan)

Intersex Day of Remembrance

Isabella of Castille (Positivist; Saint)

Johann von Staupitz (Lutheran)

John Duns Scotus, Blessed (Christian; Saint)

Kazuo Ishiguro (Writerism)

Lighting the Twin Flame Day (Starza Pagan Book of Days)

Mae West Day (Church of the SubGenius; Saint)

Mania Festival (Old Roman)

Margaret Mitchell (Writerism)

Martha Gellhorn (Writerism)

Masashi Kishimoto (Artology)

Mundus Patel (Ancient Rome)

Saints and Martyrs of England (Church of England)

Samantha Shannon (Writerism)

Synaxis of the Archangel Michael and the other Bodiless Powers of Heaven (Eastern Orthodox Church)

Threefold Tripling (Sacred #27; Celtic Book of Days)

Tysilio (Christian; Saint)

Willehad of Bremen (Christian; Saint)

Wish-Granting Championships (Leprechauns; Shamanism)

Yam Offering Day (Haiti; Everyday Wicca)

Lucky & Unlucky Days

Taian (大安 Japan) [Lucky all day.]

Premieres

Ace of Spades, by Motörhead (Album; 1980)

Buddy’s Circus (WB LT Cartoon; 1934)

Carol at the End of the World (Animated TV Series; 2023)

The Complete Stories, by Flannery O'Connor (Short Stories; 1971)

Days of Our Lives (TV Soap Opera; 1965)

Doctor Sleep (Film; 2019)

8 Mile (Film; 2002)

Everybody’s Talking’, recorded by Harry Nilsson (Song; 1967)

The Goodies (UK TV Series; 1970)

Henry V (Film; 1989)

Invisible Cities, by Italo Calvino (Novel; 1972)

Jailhouse Rock (Film; 1957) [Elvis Presley #3]

Klaus (Animated Film; 2019)

Led Zeppelin IV, by Led Zeppelin (Album; 1971)

Life with Father, by Clarence Day Jr. (Play; 1939)

The Little Wise Cracker (Barney Bear MGM Cartoon; 1952)

The Mechanical Handy Man (Oswald the Lucky Rabbit Cartoon; 1937)

Metropolitan (Film; 1935)

Midway (Film; 2019)

Mutiny on the Bounty (Film; 1935)

Night School, 21st Jack Reacher book, by Lee Child (Novel; 2016)

Oh, Kay!, by George & Ira Gershwin and P.G. Wodehouse (Broadway Musical; 1926)

Quo Vadis (Film; 1951)

The Robber Bridegroom, by Eudora Welty (Novella; 1942)

Robin Hood (Animate Disney Film; 1973)

Sacred Arias, by Andrea Bocelli (Album; 1999)

Sheer Heart Attack, by Queen (Album; 1974)

Stairway to Heaven, by Led Zeppelin (Song; 1971)

Surfin’, by The Beach Boys (Song; 1961)

Thor: The Dark World (Film; 2013)

12 Years a Slave (Film; 2013)

Today’s Name Days

Gottfried, Willehad (Austria)

Angel, Gavrail, Gavril, Mihaela, Mihail, Ognyan, Ognyana, Plamen, Plamena, Rada, Radka, Radko, Rafail, Raia, Raika, Raina, Rangel (Bulgaria)

Bogdan, Bogoljub, Gracija, Gracijan (Croatia)

Bohumír (Czech Republic)

Cladius (Denmark)

Nele, Nella, Nelli (Estonia)

Aatos (Finland)

Dora, Geoffroy (France)

Gottfried, Karina, Willehad (Germany)

Angela, Angelos, Gavriel, Michalis, Stamatis, Stamos, Taxiarchis (Greece)

Zsombor (Hungary)

Goffredo (Italy)

Agra, Aleksandra, Sandors, Sandra (Latvia)

Domantė, Gotfridas, Severinas, Svirbutas (Lithuania)

Ingvild, Yngvild (Norway)

Dymitr, Godfryd, Gotfryd, Hadrian, Klaudiusz, Sędziwoj, Sewer, Sewerian, Seweryn, Wiktor, Wiktoriusz, Wiktoryn (Poland)

Gavriil, Mihail (România)

Bohumír (Slovakia)

Godofredo, Segundo (Spain)

Vendela (Sweden)

Michael, Michaelina, Raphael (Ukraine)

Geoff, Geoffrey, Jeff, Jefferson, Jeffery, Jeffrey, Mercer, Montana (USA)

Today is Also…

Day of Year: Day 313 of 2024; 53 days remaining in the year

ISO: Day 5 of Week 45 of 2024

Celtic Tree Calendar: Hagal (Hailstone) [Day 13 of 28]

Chinese: Month 10 (Yi-Hai), Day 8Bing-Zi ()

Chinese Year of the: Dragon 4722 (until January 29, 2025) [Wu-Chen]

Hebrew: 7 Heshvan 5785

Islamic: 6 Jumada I 1446

J Cal: 13 Wood; Fryday [12 of 30]

Julian: 26 October 2024

Moon: 41%: Waxing Crescent

Positivist: 5 Frederic (12th Month) [Sixtus V / Charles V]

Runic Half Month: Nyd (Necessity) [Day 2 of 15]

Season: Autumn or Fall (Day 47 of 90)

Week: 1st Full Week of November

Zodiac: Scorpio (Day 16 of 30)

#Holidays

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flieslikeamoron · 11 months ago

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WIP Wednesday

I've posted a couple snippets of this before, but I finally feel like I'm getting somewhere with it. So this is the first two chapters of my Steddie Schitt's Creek AU. I'll start posting it on AO3 once I'm far enough into it, but if you want a preview...

This is about 5K words. Rated T so far for kissing and slightly impure thoughts.

Steve Harrington is in hell. Granted, he's not wanted for tax crimes, insider trading, money laundering and whatever else his parents were getting up to. So it's not like he needs to flee arrest like they did. But is he really better off?

They put away a nice little offshore nest egg, fled the country for the Maldives as soon as they realized the heat was about to come down, and never said a word to him about what was coming. No heads up. No maybe you should come on vacation with us. No here’s an account we set up for you in the Caymans. Nothing.

And that's what Steve has left to his name. Nothing. Just a handful of clothes. And a ludicrously small amount cash. It's the kind of money he used to drop on lunch, or drinks at the club. Nothing. The cars are gone, and the New York apartment, and the house in the Hollywood Hills, and the beach house, and the other beach house, and the European beach house, the jet, so much of his wardrobe it makes him want to cry... The only thing left, the only thing that wasn't in his fugitive parents' name, the only thing he actually owns is a Family Video store in the middle of bumfuck nowhere.

Of all the pointless things. Why couldn't his parents have given him a sweet little boat or a cute little ski cabin or something the day he was born? Why did it have to be a useless video store?

He knows why. At the time they'd only owned about fifteen or twenty video stores. The start of a regional chain that grew into a national monster that grew into a media conglomerate. At the time it had been a way to welcome their new son into the family business. A new store. A new kid. Both born on the same day. It was symbolism, not a real gift. He's never seen the store. He doubts they have either. He completely forgot he even owned it until the lawyers sat him down and laid out the complete devastation of his life.

He doesn’t know who’s been running it, but someone has because it’s still open. Somehow. The Family Video part of his parents’ empire went under years ago, thousands of stores shut down all over the country. Just this one lonely shop left shambling along like some kind of zombie. An obsolete relic of a bygone era. He might as well own a Model T factory.

But it’s all he’s got. So now. Instead of whatever resort his parents fucked off to, instead of a fun little yacht or a Swiss chalet, he’s heading for Hawkins, Indiana. On a bus. A Bus! Where he has been trapped for over twelve hours with the absolute dregs of humanity and the pervasive smell of literal shit wafting from the disgusting excuse for a toilet.

He emerges. finally, with four suitcases, the last precious remnants of everything he holds dear, into the absolute worst place in the world.

The bus station seems to be right on the edge of what the sign across the street proclaims “Historic Downtown Hawkins.” There’s a row of quaint brick store fronts. Faded awnings over old-fashioned window displays. There's a restaurant called Mabel's. There's a Laundr-o-matic. There's an honest to God "General Store" like something out of a black and white movie. Like Steve's time warped into the actual past. Do these people even have cell phones? Has he discovered a land cut off from modern society like some explorer uncovering a hidden tribe in the Amazon? That would explain why they still have a video store.

His head is pounding. Everything is so fucking quaint. Someone says hi to him, giving Steve a cheerful wave as he passes. A disturbingly casual friendliness that puts Steve on edge. He waves back anyway, pasting on a big, fake smile. This is a nightmare, but he’s been in bad spots before. He just needs to sell the store and get the hell out of here.

But first things first, he needs a place to stay.

He pulls out his phone. Does this place even have Uber?

The car pulls up surprisingly quickly. A big boat of an Oldsmobile that’s seen better days. Not exactly Uber Black, but beggars can’t be choosers. Steve wheels his bags to the trunk. The driver doesn't seem like he's going to help, which is not going to do his star rating any favors. There's no porter so Steve pops the trunk himself. Only about two of the bags will fit. He puts the other two in the backseat, and climbs into the passengers seat.

The driver is a shaggy haired guy about Steve’s age. He just sit there. Staring at Steve, wide-eyed. "Hawkins Motel?" Steve says, annoyed. It's all in the app, isn't it? The guy opens his mouth, and closes it again. Is there something wrong with him? Does he not speak English? His haircut looks like he did it himself without a mirror. Steve mentally docks another star. "Anytime today," Steve snaps. He could maybe stand to be a bit more polite, but he smells of bus, and this has been the worst day of the worst week of his entire life.

The guy shrugs, still looking a bit surprised that driving an Uber means having another person in your car. "The motel you said?"

So he does speak English.

"That's right."

At least it’s a short drive. The motel’s toward the outskirts of the town, not that it seems like they get a lot of tourist traffic around here. As his driver pulls up to the check in office, Steve hesitates. The place looks- It’s a long row of dilapidated rooms with blue painted doors. Haphazardly tilted air conditioning units in the windows. A couple windows with cardboard taped in where the glass should be. An overflowing dumpster. It looks like it has been, or will be, the scene of a murder.

“Are you okay?”

“Be honest. Do you know of any murders that have happened here?”

The guy thinks about it for a second, rather than just rattling off a no. Which Steve appreciates. “Not that I know of,” he says. “But there’s a B&B back in town if this isn’t your speed.” He gives Steve a small smile. “Byers’ House. Really nice place.”

Steve can’t afford really nice. He mentally adds a star back to the guy’s rating for his honesty. “No, it’s- It’ll be fine. Could you just wait one second while I check in though? I need to get to Family Video after I drop off the bags.”

“I’m kind of in the middle of-”

“Five minutes, I swear. And you’re going back that way anyway, right? I’ll pay cash.”

The guy gives him a long look. “You can’t just-” the guy says, losing steam halfway through. Steve smiles as the guy caves with a muttered, “Fine.” It’s the Harrington charm. Works every time.

Family Video is on the other end of “Historic Downtown Hawkins” from the bus station. It seems to be getting into a less historic area, surrounded by a strip mall on one side. The video store has that classic brick look though. A mural on the side of the building with a mashup of movie characters from Elle Woods to Darth Vader. It could easily be removed, wouldn’t affect the sale price. There are large windows on either side of the door, the classic coming attractions posters surrounded by lights. But as Steve climbs the stairs he notices the posters are made by hand. Some of them look like well done art by someone who knows what they’re doing, some of them look like the scribblings of a five year old.

How quaint.

He grimaces, pushing the door open. Cringing at the cheerful tinkle of a bell. "Welcome to Family Video." The girl at the counter looks up from her magazine, bored. "Can I help you find something?"

"The manager?" Steve says.

"That's me." She straightens up. "Is there a problem?"

"I'm Steve." Steve tries out a smile as he makes his way over to the counter. He has a great one. But she seems unmoved, not smiling back. "Harrington." He points in the vague direction of the Family Video logo on the wall. "As in, the family in Family Video."

She cocks her head. "I think my family is the family in this Family Video. We've only been running the place for 28 years." She adds, "Buckley." She points to the nametag on her suspenders that says Robin. She's wearing suspenders. Somehow they kind of work for her.

"I'm sure my family appreciates all your family has done to keep the store up and running."

"Last one in the country."

Steve gives smiling one more go. She looks at him stone faced. So much for the famous Harrington charm. Steve supposes what he's about to say isn't going to give her a lot to smile about. "I guess this is awkward," Steve says. "But the fact is I own this building, and the franchise license."

"The hell you do." She crosses her arms over her chest, lifting her chin.

"I do though," Steve says. "I don't know what deal my parents worked out with your parents. Obviously, we've been- I've been- Hands off. So that's thirty years of profits you haven't had to share and rent you haven't had to pay. I won't be seeking to recoup that, by the way."

She snorts. "Go ahead and try. There aren't any profits to share. We barely keep the lights on."

"Maybe this is an opportunity then," he says. "To turn this-" He makes a motion, encompassing the worn counter she's standing behind, the overflowing shelves of Blu-rays and DVDs, the scuffed floors. The general aura of decline in this shrine to an outdated form of media. "Into something profitable."

"What exactly are you talking about?"

"Well, the building has value. If the business doesn’t."

"The business has value," she argues. "It's just not in profits."

Steve cocks his head. "I don't follow."

"It has value to the town. We host movie nights in the town square all summer. We have groups that meet here to talk about film or books or writing." She motions at a couple squashy chairs in the corner with another mural on the wall. It’s the Gremlins doing a dance from Singing in the Rain. "We have an annual film festival. It’s happening next month. There are-"

"That's great," Steve interrupts. "But I need actual money. Not feel good small town vibes." He has to get out of this hellhole. And if that means selling this building out from under this stranger he doesn't give a shit about, he'll do it. That's business. That's how the world works.

“And I need you to go be delusional somewhere else.” She frowns at him. “You don’t own this place.”

“Really?” he says. “Because I have a copy of the deed in my bag back at the hotel and another on file with my lawyer. How about you?”

“I’m sure it’s around here somewhere.” She manages to sound confident despite the fact that Steve knows for a fact she doesn’t have the goods.

“I’m happy to come back tomorrow with my extremely legal paperwork that will hold up in any court of law,” he says. “And you bring… Whatever you can dig up to help your case. If that doesn’t settle it, you can spend the profits you don’t have on a lawyer.”

“Great,” she says, voice flat. “Is there anything else I can help you with.” The amount of rage coming off her would be intimidating if he wasn’t completely sure he owns this place. And if she wasn’t wearing suspenders.

Steve heads to the diner down the street from the video store for dinner. He feels sort of shitty. Maybe he should have made his lawyer do this part, but he can’t really afford the retainer. So fuck it, fine. He’ll be the bad guy. It's not like it's his fault Robin’s parents put all their eggs in the basket of a store they didn't even own. What is Steve supposed to do about it? He needs the money. He owns the place. It's not on him to preserve some weird non-profit video store, just so kids can hang out there and talk about movies or whatever she was going on about.

"Anything I can get you?" a pretty blond asks. Steve grabs the menu, gives it a scan. The last few weeks have been one indignity after another. Steve didn’t really think he had any farther to sink, anything left to lose. But looking at that menu a lead weight sinks to the bottom of his gut, his throat suddenly going tight. He wants his salad with truffle vinagrette, he wants wagyu beef not meatloaf, he wants hiramasa not tilapia. He doesn’t want chicken fried anything ever.

"How about you bring me your favorite thing on the menu." He tries his smile out on the waitress just to make sure it's not broken. It’s probably not his best effort, considering how desperately he wants to cry about toro tartare. But she smiles back, charmed. He takes a second to notice how well she fills out her apron. Chrissy, her name tag says.

"Anything?" she says. "You don't have any food allergies, or-"

"Surprise me, Chrissy." She blushes at the sound of her name in his mouth.

“It’s so weird that you’re like… Here.” She shakes her head, wrinkling her nose. Very cute. “I’ve never met anyone famous before.”

“I know what you’re going to say,” Steve teases. “I’m more handsome than the pictures.”

She laughs. “Are you here for a while?” He can’t tell if it’s a come on or just curiosity.

“I have some business to wrap up,” Steve says. “But I’ll be here for a week or two.” Not more than that, surely. How long can it take to sell a stupid building?

"I'm really sorry about what happened. With your family and everything." She leans in, like she thinks he might be embarrassed for anyone to overhear her talking about something that was all over the news, all over twitter, all over tiktok, all over everything. The charges being made public. The feds turning Steve’s New York apartment inside out. Steve getting escorted out into a sea of flashing cameras. Every microsecond of his misfortune documented.

"Thanks," he says, clipped. The last thing he needs is pity from some girl who probably peaked by captaining her high school cheerleading squad, some waitress who's probably never left her home town. Steve's fucking broke, but he's still better than this town. Better than these people. He doesn't need her pity.

She senses the shift in his mood, the smile no longer directed at her. And straightens up. "Anything to drink?"

Steve fishes his phone out of his handbag when she's gone. He knows he shouldn't, but he checks his Instagram. He has friends all over the world. Had friends all over the world. And now look, he can watch them having fun without him in real time. Watch them not thinking about him. Not missing him. It's all right there in the palm of his hand.

There’s Kassandra sun bathing in Ibiza. And there’s Oliver clubbing in Toyko. And there’s Stavros. His boyfriend of a record breaking three months. Kissing some guy on the private plane he was supposed to be using to fly Steve out of here. And there’s Stavros kissing that same guy on his yacht with a breathtaking Mediterranean sunset behind them. Steve zooms in on a carpaccio with a jealousy so intense he feels sick to his stomach. Fuck Stavros, honestly. But he would kill for that carpaccio.

"Here you go," Chrissy chirps. She puts down a plate. "It's not actually on the menu, but it's my favorite. It’s like avocado toast, but it’s hash browns instead of toast. The kitchen makes it for me special." She puts down a second smaller plate with a few huge onion rings. “Mabel’s famous for her onion rings. Or- It’s the sauce, really.” She adds a milkshake. “You can use the shake for dipping too.”

Steve looks at the food. It’s all so… Fried. He looks at her face, the tentative smile there. He feels a flush of something uncomfortable. Feels sort of small, air knocked out of him by the way she bounced off his coldness and came back with a little piece of herself and a smile. Something hooks into his chest, and tugs.

“Thank you.” It sounds- Pathetically sincere. “It looks delicious.” That’s a lie, but he’s fucking doing his best.

Her smile grows to a bright, wide thing. Her pretty face lit up. She tilts her head, taking a breath. "Listen. I know you probably have- It's probably not what you're used to," she says. "But if you want to meet some people, there's a party out by the lake tonight." She shrugs. "I know it's hard to be new in town." She smiles again. So cute. "At least you could get a couple beers out of it."

"Will you be there?"

She blushes and nods. Pretty. Tempting. A nice distraction. Maybe even something he could put on his Insta.

“I’ll see you there.”

The party is exactly what Chrissy said it would be. Big bonfire. A couple kegs. A bunch of locals getting drunk, getting loud, hooking up. Steve looks around for Chrissy, pushing his way through the crowd. He doesn’t see her, and being around these yokels is bad for his morale. He grabs a beer and does another pass through the crowd, looking for anyone who’d make a good picture. He doesn’t need to advertise that he’s at a shitty party, but making out with someone hot might give Stavros second thoughts about taking that generic twink to Mykonos when he could have had Steve.

Steve looks past the rowdy center of the party to a guy standing a bit away from the fire. Long hair. Leather jacket. Shit-kicker boots. Steve can see a tantalizing bit of ink on his hand as he lights a cigarette. A bit more ink peeking out of the worn neckline of his tshirt. He looks like the kind of guy that'll sell you drugs or steal your wallet.

Perfect.

The camera is already open on Steve’s phone as he steps in close to the guy. Steve takes a fist full of his shirt in hand to keep him from stepping back as Steve plants one on him. The phone clicks and Steve' glances over at, about to take one more.

The guy cups Steve's chin. Warm fingers insistent, turning Steve away from the phone. Turning the hurried, awkward mash of their lips together into something that catches. Steve opens up, unthinking, for the heat of his mouth. The hand tight on his waist urges him closer, into the brush of leather, the heat of a body up against his. There's a lazy confidence to the way the guy slips him a little tongue. Steve leans into it, into him.

And the guy pulls back.

It takes Steve a second to let go of the grip he has on the guy's shirt. To remember why he came over here. His phone. Right. He never did get that second pic. He licks his lower lip. His eyes still on the guy. On his mouth. When Steve looks up enough to catch the guy's eye, the cocky quirk of his eyebrow, he can feel his face going hot.

Jesus.

Why is this guy even getting to him? He flirted his way out a Saudi prince's compound. He made it through two countries without a passport. He got into KissKiss without a lock of human hair. He does not get flustered. Especially not by small town guys with hair like they've been in a bunker since the 80s, and rough fingers and that infuriatingly amused look on their face.

"Um," Steve says. The guy's smile gets wider. Fuck.

“I have to-” Steve makes a vague motion, and starts walking in any random direction that’s away from how hard his heart is pounding, from how obvious it must be that he wants. From how easy it was to get under his skin. He tries not to picture that taunting grin being directed at his back while the guy watches him basically make a run for it.

Steve hitches a ride back to the motel, dreading taking an actual look inside his room. The bags are where he carelessly tossed him. The floors are worn linoleum. The air conditioner rattles like a plane propeller. The tile in the bathroom is chipped and discolored. He lines up his bags neatly in the closet. No point in unpacking. He won’t be staying long.

There are cigarette burns on the blanket, but the sheets seem clean at least. He slides gingerly into bed and pulls out his phone. He looks at the picture he took. It’s not great. A bit blurry. There’s the awkward stretch of his arm holding the camera. But if he cropped it- He zooms in on the guy’s face, trying to get a better look than he did at the party. It’s really only half his face. Steve can’t see that glint in his eyes, that curve of the grin that sticks so sharply in Steve’s craw. The soft focus blurry moment of his mouth against Steve’s still sends a thick pulse of arousal through Steve’s gut. The memory of the guy’s fingers against his chin, the demanding heat of his mouth.

He deletes the photo from his phone without posting it. It wasn’t Instaworthy.

CHAPTER TWO

Steve wakes up feeling worse than he did the time he accidentally roofied himself. A shower helps a little. The water temperature could charitably be called lukewarm. But Steve stands too long in the tepid spray, drawing in deep breaths, filling his lungs with the smell of his shampoo. One of a kind, made just for him. Because he’s the kind of person people want selling their brand. Because he’s the kind of person who has what other people want. He’s the kind of person other people want to be like.

Or he was.

No, he still is. No one will touch him right now, but that’s temporary. The next scandal will come along. People will forget about the bullshit, and remember that he’s Steve Harrington.

He fortifies himself with a look in the mirror. He hasn’t changed. He’s still got a face made to sell collagen spray and a body made for thirst traps. He takes a little extra time with his hair. He takes a little extra time choosing his outfit, running his hands through the couture in his suitcases, the thick wool and crisp linen, bumpy tweed, featherlight jersey. He pulls out a couple favorites. The gray pleated skirt. Thom Browne, of course. He hesitates between the matching sports coat and the red LV bomber. He always feels like hot shit in the bomber, but he should probably go for the look that says I’ll see you in court. His fingers trail over the soft leather of the bomber as he puts it back in his suitcase.

He snaps a couple pics when he’s done. There’s no way he’d post something with this hotel room as a background, but look at his hair. Perfect. His outfit. Impeccable. And there’s that Harrington smile.

There only seems to be one Uber driver in this town, but at least the guy was- Well, no, he wasn’t friendly. But he did help Steve carry his bags to the motel room. He knows the town too. Maybe Steve can pump him for the dirt on Robin and the store.

It’s a van than pulls up to the motel parking lot though, not the Oldsmobile from yesterday. Steve peers in the window, just in case he’s about to get kidnapped.

“Jesus Christ,” he mutters under his breath when a very familiar pair of brown eyes meet his. Long hair and tattoos. Leather jacket just like last night. Steve would almost rather walk. But he is dressed to threaten legal action. Probably best not to show up sweaty.

Steve opens the sliding door to the back. It’s full of an alarming amount of crap. Tools, and random metal parts of something. A car? Steve doesn’t know. Wood, a small plastic lawn chair, a lawnmower, an amp for some reason-

The guy pats the passenger’s seat. “Up here, big boy.”

Steve climbs in as smoothly as he can. Just because he humiliated himself last night doesn’t mean he has to do it again.

“I’m Eddie,” the guys says. “And you’re… Steve?” He reads off the phone in his hand. “I didn’t catch your name before.”

Steve could maybe pretend he doesn’t remember. Do the whole “I’m sorry have we met?” It can be devastating if you drop it on the right person. But he’s pretty sure all he’ll get if he tries it on this guy, Eddie, is a knowing smirk.

Fuck it. “Came on a little strong,” Steve says. “Sorry, I guess.”

Eddie pulls out of the parking lot. “No apology needed. You’re not that bad a kisser.”

Steve knows exactly what Eddie’s doing, but he can’t just not set the record straight. “I’m a good kisser.” Eddie shrugs, still with that teasing grin on his face. His eyes on his rearview. “I escaped from the Yakuza because of how good a kisser I am.”

Eddie shoots him a skeptical look. “If you say so.”

“I’m serious. I have literally been given a car because of how good a kisser I am. A really nice car.”

Eddie laughs. “I mean, if you want to prove it we could try again. See if I’m inspired to buy you breakfast.” He chucks Steve under the chin, condescending. Steve wants to eviscerate him. He also kind of wants to take him up on it, a surge of heat spearing through his gut. What is it about this fucking guy? He bats Eddie’s hand away.

“Excuse you.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. Are we asking for permission before we grab each other now?”

“That was a one time grabbing,” Steve says. “Temporary insanity. So how about we both agree to keep our hands to ourselves from here on out.”

“Your loss.” Eddie flashes his teeth. He’s such an asshole. It’s really unfortunate how bad Steve wants to touch his dick.

There’s a closed sign on the door of the video store, and no lights on. It’s well past nine. This is no way to run a business. Steve knocks on the door, but the lights stay off.

He waits five minutes, ten, before giving up and heading down the street toward the diner. He’ll kill some time having breakfast, then try again. Chrissy’s at the counter in her perky little ponytail. He smiles when she gives him a blushy wiggle of her fingers, and takes a seat at the counter.

“Did you have a good time at the party?” she asks.

“Would have been better if you were there.” She giggles, handing him a menu. “I looked for you.”

“I had to close up.” She bites her lip, scrunches her nose. “I got there late.” She leans in across the counter and lowers her voice like she’s telling secrets. “I looked for you too.”

Steve wouldn’t mind the distraction. A no strings fling with someone like her. Someone who’d be sweet on his tongue. Soft in his arms. Not like Eddie. Eddie’s too-

Eddie pops up from behind the counter with a screwdriver in his mouth. Fucking hell. Is the guy a living jumpscare? Why is he everywhere Steve goes?

He has his hair pulled back in a sloppy ponytail, and his jacket off. Tight Metallica tee that shows off the tattoos on his arms. Full sleeves of stark black ink that Steve doesn’t have time to pick apart before he’s making himself look down at the menu. He’s thinking about breakfast and not about rough fingers on his skin, a warm mouth wrapped around his- Nope. He’s not thinking about that.

“Flirt on your own time, Chris.” Steve looks up at the warmth in Eddie’s tone. It’s teasing, but without the edge he takes when he’s poking at Steve.

Chrissy rolls her eyes at him and smacks him on the shoulder. “Shut up, jerk. I’m not paying you to hassle me.”

“Where’s that replacement motor?” Eddie asks. She looks around, and snatches it up off the counter. He takes it, and holds on, her hand caught in his as he raises an eyebrow and says, “Be good.” They both look at Steve. He hopes they don’t think they’re being subtle.

Steve watches as they look back at each other, a whole conversation in the way Chrissy wrinkles her nose and Eddie gives his head a shake. They’re definitely fucking. So much for that distraction.

The store’s still closed when Steve gets back from the diner. This has to be deliberate. Is Robin avoiding him? Hoping he’ll go away? Joke’s on her. It’s not like he has anywhere else to go.

A bunch of kids are sitting on the steps of the store, arguing with each other about Minecraft or whatever kids like.

“Anyone know why they aren’t open?” Steve asks.

One of the kids, curly haired with a trucker hat shrugs. “We were wondering the same thing.”

“Maybe she’s sick,” a red headed girl offers.

“She seemed fine yesterday,” Steve says.

“Usually you’re not sick right up until you are, so-” The red head looks at Steve with a level of withering disdain only middle schoolers are capable of.

“What are you guys even doing here?” Steve says. “Don’t you have netflix?”

��Of course we have netflix,” a lanky, dark haired scarecrow of a boy says. He runs a close second on the withering disdain meter to Red Head.

A chorus of voices overlap each other.

“Robin has lots of stuff that’s not on netflix.”

“And she lets us play DND at the store.

“We’re making a movie.”

“What kind of movie?” Steve instantly regrets asking.

Five voices start clamoring. Steve gets about three words of it. One of the words is “Demogorgon,” which he’s pretty sure is not actually a word. A smaller boy with stick straight brown hair in a truly unfortunate bowl cut holds up several weird drawings that don’t help make anything clearer.

“Did you do the window?” Steve asks the kid, ignoring the rest of the useless non-information being yelled at him. He points at the poster for Ghostbusters. It’s one of the better ones.

“Yeah,” the kid says. “I’m Will.” He points at a signature in the corner of the poster. Steve’s having a hard time not looking at his haircut. He’s pretty sure it would qualify as child abuse.

Trucker Hat grabs the stack of pictures from Will’s hand and starts laying them out on the sidewalk. The other kids start yelling again, rearranging the order and calling each other stupid, uninspired, derivative…

“We still don’t even have a hero!”

“And who’s going to play Daisy?”

“Plus the third act and-”

“But the costume has to-”

“Guys,” a good looking, dark-skinned boy says, swinging a bat in front of him. “Come on. I can play the hero.”

“You’re not a hero, Lucas. You’re a shrimp,” Trucker Hat says.

“We already decided none of us would be the hero,” Scarecrow says.

“What about him?” Red Head asks.

Steve looks up from the pictures he’d been trying to puzzle through. It’s like a very confusing comic book with no words. “What?”

“Are you like, athletic?” Will says.

“He is pretty tall,” Scarecrow admits reluctantly.

“He’s obviously not busy.”

“Can you swing a bat?” Lucas asks.

Steve isn’t sure he likes where this is going, but- “Can I swing a bat.” Steve snorts. “I played polo against Prince William. And I won.”

“They don’t use a bat in polo,” Trucker Hat points out.

“Gimme the fucking-” Steve snatches the bat out of Lucas’ hand. He puts his handbag down and spins the bat around his wrist once to get a feel for it. Then swings at the closest thing to him. Which happens to be a mailbox. With a gnome sitting on top of it.

The gnome goes flying, and keeps flying.

“Holy shit,” Lucas says. The kids watch wide-eyed as the thing sails all the way down the block and across the street. Knocking through a window with the loud smash of glass shattering.

Oops.

But still. “I told you,” Steve says, flipping the bat up and catching it one handed.

“Jesus Christ.” Trucker Hat sounds a little bit impressed, and a little bit freaked out.

“That’s the police station,” Will says, sounding more freaked out than impressed.

A few cops burst of the building.

“Run for it,” Red Head says, taking off on her skateboard with a gaggle of bicycles in hot pursuit.

By the time the cops make it down the street Steve’s the only one there. Bat in hand.

“Fucking kids.”

#my working title is #hide your diamonds hide your exes #wip wednesday #my fic #my fic: schitt's creek au #steddie fic #steddie au

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truecrimethirdeyeblind · 1 year ago

Text

TYLER DOYLE, MISSING DUCK HUNTER LITTLE RIVER, SOUTH CAROLINA 1/26/23

Everyone deserves for their story to be told; no matter who they are, if they are not here to tell it, they deserve to have a voice. With this blog, I hope to be that listening ear to that voice in the darkness and make sure that their story is broadcasted to the best of my ability.

Coastal South Carolina is filled with beauty and wonder; marshlands that support an entire ecosystem of fish and birds and other wildlife. The low country streams and rivers meander into lakes and slough off into swampy marsh filled with turtles and heron and cayman. In summer, the air is heavy with brine and still except for the sounds of crickets and tree frogs and splashes of alligators. Spanish moss drapes wanton like forest green curtains hung haphazardly over live oaks that stretch into the sultry southern sky.

There are wide expanses of beach, sand and dunes, beach grass bending to the wind in a cadence matching the ever present tides. The blue green Atlantic beckons like a siren, calling in surfers and swimmers and boaters and fishermen. On stormy days and the skies turn grey casting a pall on the cerulean sea as it churns into blue grey whorls; those are the days the sea claims them all for its own.

Every year, over 20 million people flock to Myrtle Beach, South Carolina to enjoy the sun and sand by day and by night there are hundreds of activities and adventures to choose from. There are aquariums, amusement parks, over 2000 restaurants, and more mini golf than you can shake a stick at. If you should you choose, you can even take a cruise on a casino boat and try your hand with Lady Luck.

But for every bit of paradise, there always seems to be a sinister side. For all that beauty and wonder, there is a matched darkness and evil. According to the FBI’s latest US Crime Report, Myrtle Beach, SC is now officially the 3rd most dangerous city in the United States (Charlotte Stories, 2019). These are high statistics and surprising because most would assume that larger cities like New York City or Los Angeles would fall highest on that list.

Crimes listed vary from murder to larceny to kidnapping. South Carolina Department of Natural Resources reported in 2022 (SCDNR.gov 2023) that missing persons cases went up by 131%. Again, these are high statistics and suggest that perhaps there is a trend given that crime in general is high in this city.

Just North of this crime mecca is North Myrtle Beach which ranked at number 30 on the same federal list. That is where this untold story comes in. North Myrtle Beach/Little River is some of the most beautiful raw nature on South Carolina’s coast. It boasts a small town running along the Intracoastal Waterway, rife with beautiful waterfront homes and sandy beaches that lead to the Atlantic. There are oyster beds on the intracoastal and long marsh-walks stretching across the vast waterways that course out to the Atlantic. The area is rich with history and family owned land dating back to the 1800s in the glory days of lumber mills.

On January 26, 2023, Tyler Doyle, a duck hunter from Loris, South Carolina went missing right there in Little River, South Carolina. As the story goes, he was going duck hunting that afternoon with a friend. He is said to have dropped the friend at the jetty rocks in order to go scare up some ducks to shoot. The friend calls 911 some minutes later stating that “I am in the ocean and my boat is drifting out into the ocean.” The 911 dispatcher asks for verification if anyone is hurt on the boat. There is a pause. He then states “I’m on the jetty rocks, Tyler, a buddy of mine; his boat is sinking.” He explains that Tyler had called him in distress and that the engine had cut off and the boat was taking on water.

The friend asks to hang up so that he may call Tyler and check on him. He has stated that he cannot see him any longer and that he had turned away and when he looked back, he was gone. The 911 dispatcher instructs him to hang up to call Tyler and call her right back. Several minutes pass and the friend calls back. On this second 911 call, he states that he was not able to reach him. Phone records later showed that he had not even attempted to call him. Instead, he had called a different friend for assistance stating that “If I need you, will you come.” Just tuck that little feather in your hat for later.

The 911 operator patches him through to the Coast Guard who is already on the way. He tells the dispatcher before the patch that he cannot see the boat. The dispatcher tells the caller that the Coast Guard should be there, as in they at least should be visible.

TLDR: The friend is picked up from the jetties by a rescue boat. He is transported to the landing. There is at first a report of two people being rescued, so there is momentary confusion. Did Tyler get rescued as well?

It turned out that he did not. A 911 call from a family member from that night reveals the anguish felt in learning that Tyler Doyle was indeed missing.

Remember that feather? Yeah, go ahead and pluck it out. At the landing, the friend who was with Tyler, now the sole witness of his disappearance, refused medical care even though he had to get in the water in order to be rescued by waiting officials. He denied treatment for potential hypothermia. He stated that he was waiting for his friend. Everyone assumed he meant Tyler, but he did not.

The friend that showed up, the one he had called instead of Tyler, was given possession of the gun and waders that was on his person during the time in question. No explanation was given for why these items were allowed to be removed by a civilian who then later refused to come to the station to give a statement. It was instead written by the lead investigator.

Hours pass, officials arrive and a search is made. It is suspended around 10:00 pm due to unfavorable conditions, stating that they would regroup in the morning.

Over the ensuing days and weeks, they searched over 600 square miles of ocean, all the way up into the Cape Fear River because some duck decoys had been found. Five days into the search, a family led search party found a pair of waders. They contained Tyler’s wallet with identifying information and cash. It is unclear whether the items were wet or dry; there is conflicting information that has been released at the time of this post. After that, the trail went cold. The search was officially called off after 43 days; ruled a boating accident and no foul play was suspected.

And yet there are questions. There are always questions when someone disappears but this case felt different to me so I stayed in tune. I began to research. I gathered my own evidence. I walked the beaches with which I was already so familiar. I had spent my entire life traveling to this area. And then I realize that is why this bothered me so much. I know the area like the back of my hand. The jetties are not some magical wall that occludes visibility. The friend should have been able to see Tyler at all times.

Immediately after Tyler went missing, posts began to circulate. Tyler Doyle Discussion groups began to form. These groups grew to over 100k in some instances. There was infighting in the groups. In the wake of no information being found and day after day, reports that Tyler had not been found, people started to speculate and it got a little crazy: Somebody came and stole somebody’s Daddy. Wild theories emerged. Tyler was in Mexico with a mysterious pop up go-fund me that grew to over 30K and was then cut off due to the speculations and criticism over the web-based charity pot. For a brief time, Tyler was thought to be on the run because he had been charged with attempted murder. On searching records, officials were immediately able to verify that those charges had been dismissed and expunged far prior to the incident in which Tyler went missing.

Family was not heard from during the early months of the search for Tyler and subsequent quest for answers. They started to speak up as their shock wore off and they have questions too.

The reports and statements submitted by the investigating body are sloppy and incomplete at best. However, it should be noted that this law enforcement agency is not designed to investigate foul play or even trained to recognize patterns or critical thinking in criminal situations. They are put in place to deal with land and endangered species preservation in times of accidents, give out gaming tickets and patrol the waterways for potential dangers.

Besides, it was a small Southern town. Everyone knows everyone; who could possibly want to hurt him? Living in the low country though, everything isn't as it seems sometimes. Not everyone has that idyllic white picket life.

As it turns out; things were not perfect in his life. There were echoes of marital strife with a baby on the way in a fairly new marriage. In June, the wife moved out of the home she shared with her missing husband; lawsuits were filed against her by Tyler’s family for allegedly removing items that she shouldn’t have. The case is still ongoing at the time of publishing of this post.

And what of the attempted murder charges which were said to be connected to a Snapchat argument between Tyler’s brother and some unknown individuals who later did not show up for the trial?

Could it have been a revenge killing? Did someone have something against Tyler? The bigger question in my mind was that I know duck hunters. When I ran this case by them, their first question was “why was he going duck hunting in the afternoon.” For myself, the area in question does not seem conducive to duck hunting. I’ve gone down there my whole life and again that’s why this case has always bothered e me.

There are more questions on this case than answers and as of December 5, 2023, SLED (South Carolina Law Enforcement Division) joined the case of missing Tyler Doyle. As of December 11, 2023; SLED officials picked up Tyler’s boat from SCDNR.

The family, the media, and thousands of interested parties now await what could be a months-long review of the investigation. Witnesses could be called back in for questioning and further statements could be needed in order to sort out the cloudy timeline of events surrounding the disappearance of this young husband and father to be.

I will be posting more about this case as it develops and filling in information that I have been able to find on my own. It has been nearly 11 months since Tyler went missing and Christmas is approaching. I am sure that his presence is dearly missed. Tyler is described as a thoughtful kind young man by all that knew and loved him.

We can only hope that answers are found soon and that Tyler can be found and laid to rest and his family and friends can gain some semblance of closure.

The question remains: What really happened to Tyler Doyle?

True Crime Journalist / Web Blogger

#true crime #missing persons #tyler doyle #scdnr #sled

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