pink ribbon scars

closed starter for @alicealder​​

It wasn’t often that Elaine Archer felt jealous of anyone else. After all, she was the one people were jealous of- not the other way around. She was the one with the perfect looks, the perfect boyfriend, the perfect life. Or at least- she used to be. So as strange as it was for that little green monster to make a home in her chest, it was even more strange that it has its sight set on Alice Alder. The other girl usually wasn’t exactly on her radar, even before her total disaster makeover she’d been more of a friend-of-a-friend. But ever since Alice’s secret had been spilled, ever since Elaine found out she could see Lux, her throat had nearly closed up whenever they were in close proximity. And of course she knew it wasn’t real, but it didn’t seem fair that Alice could conjure her up whenever she wanted while Lux refused to visit Elaine even in her dreams. 

Elaine isn’t sure how they wound up sitting across from one another at the dining hall, or how long their silence had gone on, but she has that awkward feeling in the pit of her stomach, the one that forced unfiltered thoughts to pop right out of her mouth. 

“So… do you put your eyeliner on like that on purpose or what?” 

.

It was always a gamble, the tango with Elaine. A game of Russian roulette. And it was addicting. Where substance alone could not make a home, the inability to predict found its way in. Cruel or kind? -- She could not say it, and how hard she would try to avoid thinking it, but it was not unlike Lux. The real Lux. The Lux who didn’t just parrot her every thought -- oscillate between saying what she wanted to hear and saying what she truly thought (though the two often went hand-in-hand).  Cruel. Or, rather, petty. She should not have supposed much else -- had they so much as spoken more than two words to each other since Candy (hm...) dropped the bomb? There were complexities to Elaine and Lux, that much she... had a strong inkling about. So, if it were bad news bears™ around the folks less close to Lux? Very bad news bears™ around those who had orbited around her. “Alright.” Dismissive. Passive. Aggravated. Time for a dance. “Do you want me to give you a tutorial sometime? I mean, you could definitely use one.”

closed starter for @alicealder​

Freyja knew exactly how tonight would be going with Alice if there wasn’t this gaping wound of unexplained time away. Teasing her with the idea of matching stupid Spirit Makeovers. Actually going through with it if Alice seemed even remotely interested. It should have been the kind of witty and sarcastic she had grown used to from the other girl. Just like everyone else, it seemed like the universe didn’t care about what should’ve been.

Freyja stood in front of Alice on the bleachers, doing her best to juggle the two hot dogs and popcorn she had gotten from the snack house. “Hungry?” she asked, offering one of the hot dogs out as an olive branch. “Even if you’re not, it’s probably a good idea to have something anyways. Have you eaten today?” The kind of fussing over her friends that came naturally. “Since I’m heroically saving you from the awkward encounter-” Were things still weird with Indigo? “Filled with questions about if you’re enjoying the overly peppy activities and forgoing your family discount to do so, I think it’s only fair I get to steal that spot next to you, right?”

.

And, just like that, things finally got interesting. Freyja, a young woman so many seemed to be envious of in one way or another. Freyja, who had managed to leave Cherry unharmed. And it was a good thing, yes, that she had left unharmed... but how many of them had wished the same thing? Unable to leave the confines by some unknown force (oh, they knew the force)? Alice, herself, would have made a break for it right after Candy turned her into Daisy Buchanan -- she was fine not witnessing some... ghost, or whatever. But they were shackled... shackled in a way that Freyja was not. Was it who she was as a person? Did she have nothing to worry about? Was it this... thing they had all been affected by? -- Oh, but what a lovely twist! Those many months That month or so away could do a world of good for Alice’s standing in the other’s eyes! Oh, beautiful day! Accepting the hotdog (though it was destined to be regifted -- #NoMeatLife1999), she tried to mask her bewilderment and confusion behind exactly what she had been feeling not only minutes before: great boredom! “Yeah, sure.” ...Maybe acting ‘normal’ was easier said than done. Inspecting the hotdog, as if that were the most natural thing she could do in the moment as opposed to -- I don’t know! chat? -- she found herself forced to embrace a question Freyja had either: 1) gotten all day, or 2) would answer with ‘no?’ and Alice would be inclined to believe because, really, where had she been? “So, like... elephant in the room: did you actually fucking leave?” Curiosity? Yes. Envy? Perhaps a bit. Contempt? No.

A goddamn mess of a question. Lux or Zahra? Which old friend? Which first friend? Which first friend who had left, or been left, or... at a point, who knew the order of it all? It ended the same: hatred. Hatred -- and what could be worse than that? A cool indifference was the goal, but a fire ignited in its place.

Lux and Zahra, who she still possessed the friendship necklace of. Lux and Zahra, who she still thought of as happy children. Lux and Zahra, who she had played schoolyard games with. Lux and Zahra, Zahra and Lux.

Lux, who she would caress in the darkness. Lux, who would assure her of her love, even despite those she held hands with in public. Lux, who drifted away come Elaine (an unconfirmed hunch). Lux, who stayed. Lux, who blamed her. Lux, who shunned her. Lux, who did not leave until death.

Zahra, who she never risked it all with. Zahra, who remained a good friend throughout all of their years. Zahra, who drifted away come college. Zahra, who left. Zahra, who did not know. Zahra, who gravitated back only in the wake of their dead friend.

An impossible decision. What she had done to see Lux one more time... It would be a lie to say she would not have done it to see Zahra one more time.

But, when it came down to it, was there any real choice in the matter? An unfair loophole. One that would not have existed a year and a half ago. -- Though she would have had just as much difficulty.

"Zahra." Zahra, who, one day, could perhaps meet mutual forgiveness. Zahra, who was still breathing.

What a question! On one hand, Mac was her roommate. Not to mention the mutual understanding they had... On the other hand, Zev was her son. Her Jason-cheering son. "This is a super touch pick..." It wasn't a lie! How was she to choose between her roommate-of-almost-two-years and her son? "I think I'm gonna go with Zev, like, just a little bit, though." ...Tragically, he was her son.

"Easy: shark. I mean, to start, you've gotta be in the water for the shark to have the advantage." Going in the water? Easily preventable. "But, like, say you are in the water and you do manage to draw a shark in. Bop him on the nose to distract him, then poke his eye!"

who: open! what: winnie? annoyed? shocking! where: band club request line

In a break between songs, Winnie took a moment to stand and stretch out her back. Keeping good posture at her piano exhausted her after a while and she needed to feel like she was cracking her vertebrae. What she really wanted was a cigarette (damn past Winnie for picking up the habit while trying to look cool) but she didn’t have any. As she leaned forward to try to touch her toes (and hopefully crack her back) she didn’t notice someone approaching her until their shoes entered her field of vision. “If you’re here to request Free Bird,” she spoke, strained from her leaned over position. “I’ll tell you what I told th-the last guy,” as she spoke she straightened back up, looking the other person in the eye. “It’s not on th-the list, and it’s not even a good song. Stop asking.”

.

The last time Alice had come across Winnie in the wild had ended in something... less than desirable. Had ended in some hot water that, as far as she knew, Winnie was unaware of. Nonetheless, it was not the time to dwell on that (or, more specifically, not the time to bring that up. Suspicion might arise, and what good would that do her? Hell, what good would that do for either of them?) “Someone’s requested ‘Free Bird’ already?” Not that she was there to request it. “God -- how many times has ‘Wonderwall’ already been requested then?” Not that she was there to request that either, but if one staple had already been suggested, then the staple of their generation was bound to have been requested... dozens of times!

who: open what: stress <3 where: back behind the equipment shed

Homecoming always looked fun in the movies. It was a quintessential college experience, and here Rory was, a complete nervous wreck hiding behind the equipment shed just to get some air. But she hadn’t really expected anyone else to come wandering back there. “Oh my god- sorry-” she blurted out. “I was just, trying not to hurl! Don’t mind me!” It was meant to sound like a joke (even though it was totally true), but nothing about her wavering voice sounded convincing, even to her. Her chest felt too tight, like her ribs were collapsing inwards under the pressure. “Sorry, I won’t puke if you want to hide out here too.” Her stomach turned again and she paled unconvincingly. “Probably.” 

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It had been... hm... predictably boring...  But more-so than she would have thought (which, actually, should also have been predictable... Alas, foresight was no friend of hers at the time)! Thus, perhaps venturing behind the shed -- a nice place to smoke without any of the fun ‘can I bum a cigarette?’ requests (which may have been alright to handle among very few people -- but a student body? geez, get your own damn pack!) -- was the move!  Which was where Rory was hiding out which, once again, should have been predictable... to a degree. Large and loud crowd, timid Rory... yes -- to a degree! “No -- you’re alright.” Hm... that didn’t sound quite right... ‘you’re hiding behind a shed, so you feel fine!’ - not what she meant. “Like, it’s a lot, I get it. Anything I can do to, y’know, help?”

who: open what: maddie is obviously tired of thinking about sports where: homecoming

“So, what happens if the guy in the Grapes needs to take a leak?” Maddie asked openly, loosely gesturing to the rival team’s mascot as she did so. “There’s no way they wash that costume either, right? Like- how would you even fit the head in a washing machine? You’d have to go to an industrial laundromat,” she wasn’t even sure if that was a thing.

.

“Hopefully he doesn’t. That would be a bitch to take off.” -- was about as much as Alice could come up with. Games were always rather boring... even more-so now. Was this what they were like to most people? Jesus. “The head’s probably pretty easy if it’s plastic. Can’t say I’ve ever been in their place before, though.”

“Oh, fuck off, you know what I’m talking about.” That’s what it’s all about, isn’t it? You know. Alice knows her, and maybe that’s why even this feels like the easiest conversation she’s had all day. Yeah, the bar is on the fucking ground, and there’s still all that turmoil boiling under her skin, but it’s different to sitting on a couch listening to people talk about putting things away and bedroom arrangements and fucking Elaine and Zev. 

She glances into the room Alice indicates, then raises her eyebrows at her - somewhere between surprised and annoyed. She releases Alice’s shirt slowly, as if worried she’ll bolt the second she gets a chance.

Alice knows her - she must know her - but to Zahra… Alice is entirely the same and completely different. There’s hesitation, distrust, where there never would’ve been before. There’s an understanding of the old Alice (her Alice, that part of her that can’t let go says, hers) that’s been fractured by the new one. She’s a stranger, except for all the ways she’s not. Who knows what she’s gonna want to talk about? Who knows how she could hurt Zahra, if she really wanted to?

Zahra steps into the room anyway, pulling Alice with her by the arm and shutting the door behind them. She feels childish and nostalgic and vulnerable for it, but she doesn’t turn back. One step after the other, Jackson. “Well?”

.

Half of herself still laid bare, exposing itself to Zahra. How could it not? What goes away in the end? What stays? Nothing really changes. Two years now, give or take, of hating each other so that they never had to leave each other’s orbit. It was so much easier that way -- so much easier to hate and stay than allow and leave. In the end, Lux did not exist without Zahra. That hole did not exist without Zahra. That vitriol did not exist without Zahra. That love did not exist without Zahra.  And who could ever risk denying that love? There were so many things Alice would come to regret -- ironically, a statement she knew. It made sense now, the puzzle pieces were put together now, being Candy’s little helper made sense now (what was in the envelopes? who cared? -- apparently they’d get one step closer). But when there was no mother’s little helper left? So funny. So funny to know, and to execute, and to think: premature amends, or there may be none left to give. Inside the room, pleased that Zahra had reluctantly agreed, she had to shake off every damn piece of herself that wanted to bite back. What the hell was there to bite back at? Zahra had asked ‘well?’ -- a simple question about what her actions had indicated, ignore the tone and it was to be expected. She could launch into a spiel about the lack of proof! No way to prove it! But that wasn’t the goal. Others, perhaps, but the one person she would have everything to lose or gain from? Funny, right? That she was the one who had to see her laid bare? -- Because she could already see half of it. She could launch into a spiel about how it came to be. She could ignore the elephant in the room entirely. She could play off of that awful truth or dare game. But none of that would fly the same way, would it? None of that would fly the way the real question would -- what sat at the heart of it all: “If you could see her one more time, would you?”

Was it better or worse that Alice instantly knew exactly what she was asking about? It threw her off, a little. It relaxed her, a little. It rubbed salt in the wound - though she couldn’t really pinpoint which wound. It was always hard to tell, when it came to Alice and Lux. “Wow, got it in one, Al.” It would almost sound - is normal the right word anymore? When it’s been so long? It would almost sound the way it used to, playful and teasing and fond, if Zahra were capable of saying anything without it coming out sharp and bitter right now.

“Tell me, what does Lux think of all this, hm?” She gestured vaguely at the house. Really, she’s gesturing to the fact they were here at all - she can’t get Casey calling it Harvey’s happy holiday out of her head - and at the stupid game of truth or dare, and at the way everyone seemed to be just… not feeling it. The Lux-shaped hole. Is it true? she’s asking. But she’s also asking what would Lux think? And then, on a layer beneath that, what do you think?

.

the pain, the burden, of being known. the pain, the burden, of nights long ago bleeding into the present. the pain, the burden, of memory. if she could trade that of an elephant for that of a goldfish, everything would be simpler. zahra’s frustration had nothing to do with the implications of it. she was known. but that would be easier, right ? easier than to finally talk about that wedge, easier than to finally talk as it stood ? “ well, should we go crack open a ouija board ? ask her ourselves ? i mean, i’m sure harvard has that shit lying around. ” if she would just swallow her pride... take zahra into a separate room, use this curse as an opportunity to create a stalemate in their war. all it would take... just a few minutes of the two not hitting back at each other, be it with biting remarks or sarcastic quips. it would be so easy. so fucking easy. and wasn’t making amends supposed to be a thing, anyhow ? 

𝗖𝗟𝗢𝗦𝗘𝗗 𝗦𝗧𝗔𝗥𝗧𝗘𝗥 𝗙𝗢𝗥 @alicealder​ 𝗪𝗛𝗔𝗧: just some bro bonding!  𝗪𝗛𝗘𝗥𝗘: the den

Since the Candy Girl’s post about Alice, he hasn’t actually managed to spend much time around her. The past few weeks have seemingly faded into a blur, not giving him much time for pause and thought to the point that even a check-in about the effect that her pills were having had seemed just out of reach. But they’re on vacation! With everything else that has been going on lately, it’s only right that he calls Alice down mid-afternoon to the den just before The Goonies starts playing, even if his head is still throbbing from more than just the alcohol. He’s determined to be organised (for once) but thankfully most of the main set-up has already been done. “So what are we feeling snacks wise? Think there’s still some like,” a hand reaches out to the snacks, “Doritos and dip? ‘Course I can get anything else from the kitchen too.” 

.

If there was no other upsides to the Hargrove lake-house this year (petty drama abound! -- though she would take people worrying about their relationships over the most recent Candy exposé any day), at least a few people were keeping their damn cool. Chief among them? Casey -- absolutely no surprise. Yes, snacking with him -- while being forced to stay in the lake-house by the fates that be -- seemed far superior to... any other given activity. “Y’know, with the Hargrove funding, you’d think they’d have, like... caviar for snacks.” Where would the fun in this forced ‘vacation’ be if she couldn’t poke fun at the host? “But I, personally, am always down for some doritos and dip.”

who: @alicealder​

what: the best time to ask about ur ex best friend maybe hallucinating your dead best friend is clearly right around the anniversary of that death, right?

where: a room. or a private alcove. somewhere in the lake house.

There was a lot going on in Zahra’s head. That wasn’t really anything special - there was usually a lot going on in her head. But, unfortunately, right now the things going through her head were Lux-related, which inevitably meant Alice-related. She’d been on edge all day, and hadn’t had enough to drink to lose that edge. She didn’t particularly want to lose it either - it was satisfying, in an indulgent kind of way. It made sense. It also meant that, when she grabbed a fistful of the front of Alice’s shirt and tugged her aside while everyone was heading off to bed post truth-or-dare bullshit, she didn’t bother to do it gently.

Her fingers, still curled in a white-knuckle grip, didn’t release her even when they were alone. If she closed her eyes, maybe she could imagine this was Lux. The same familiarity, the same ease of being, was there on the periphery. Between one blink and the next, she could almost see blonde hair. But she didn’t close her eyes. And, for all the childish little part of her wanted to, she didn’t ask why didn’t you come after me at the bonfire? Instead, she gave a pleasant smile that didn’t match her cold eyes, and didn’t let Alice go. Let her make of it whatever the hell she wanted. “Alice. Long time, no chat,” she greeted casually, with an almost innocent head tilt, “Anything new to share?” Maybe there were better times for this conversation, but Zahra had a wildfire under her skin and the longer she could put off going to sleep, the better.

.

Alice had had absolutely no longing to go to the Hargrove lake household -- alas, the fates that be forced it upon her, just as they forced a game of truth or dare... which was nothing but petty drama, further proving that everyone was letting meaningless bullshit get to them. Apparently they no longer needed Candy for that... which was annoying.  But, hey! At least she got to go sleep alone in some old fuck’s bed! Oh, but the fates that be once again had another plan! First her shirt was balled up, then she was face-to-face with Zahra. Wow. Was she going to need something for whiplash?  ‘Anything new to share?’ Oh boy, what wasn’t there! -- Yet, despite Candy being in contact with her yet again (or... now? She wasn’t sure, it didn’t feel the same), this time to use her as a pawn and not the object of her affection (oh, that was why it didn’t feel the same!), her mind shot to what the bitch had posted in that damn zine. What was there to say about it? A deep need for character development will change things whenever there is the slightest lull that May can write a personal few days with little Gang contact, but she must wait... “Fucking -- I take it you want to hear more about what fucking Kaczynski said, hm?”