aspiring beam of light

OPEN START: @wilmingtonstarters​ LOCATION: kilwin’s ice cream shop, downtown

“What do you mean I’m at my toppings limit? Get a bigger cup. I just got out of a coma, and if I want oreos, fig newtons and sprinkles on this bad boy then that’s what’s happening.” Lips smacking, Jamie would then offer a smug smile as the person behind the counter turned to grab a bigger cup. Hands thrust into the pockets of their jean jacket, they’d turn their torso to look at the person behind them in line. “Ice cream scoopers, am I right?” And then a roll of the eyes, as if Jamie’s opinion was somehow universal, instead just one from a ‘sandwich artist’ with a superiority complex.

It’s just ice cream, Carmen thought to herself, although she would never say that out loud because she liked giving people the benefit of the doubt. That was her whole thing or at least it had been her entire life and despite how much she was beginning to question her views she couldn’t just suddenly shift them. So, instead she said, “Are you sure that’s enough toppings? The caramel sauce here is really good, it’s like, homemade not from those store bought bottles.” At least it was her favorite type of topping and truthfully the only kind that she added to her ice cream. “I’d love to see you be able to finish eating all of that.” 

Savannah: hey pretty girl.

Savannah: just wanted to check in that your night didn't go to hell after i left prom. how was it?

Carmen: It was actually pretty great.

Carmen: I even made it to the last song which was a shock.

LOCATION: Winnie & Emmy’s place, Downtown. WITH: @carmenpts​

He remembers LA as being a time of falling in love and holding his tongue. The latter was an art Winnie would like to believe he’d perfected, derived from an unwillingness to rock the boat by either admitting his feelings or bad-mouthing Carmen’s then-boyfriend. He refused to speak unflatteringly about Chase – despite the veritable goldmine of jokes his name alone provided – but that promise to himself has been tossed to a far-flung corner of the cosmos today. He blames it on time – it’s been so long that he feels as though he can be more open – but the introduction of alcohol certainly hasn’t helped his case. They’re currently sprawled out on his bedroom floor together, side by side, heads touching, wine-drunk and laughing helplessly. Carmen’s ‘Welcome to Wilmington’ gift, a bottle of wine, has swiftly been demolished, and they’ve since graduated to the rest of Winnie’s alcohol collection. Everything is hilarious. The once unsayable feels sayable.

“Not to speak ill of the dead —,” Chase is very much alive, but Winnie makes the sign of the cross anyway, clumsily dragging his finger over his heart, “– but Chase was… god, there’s no nice way of saying it. He was a twat, Carmen! A pompous, self-serving twat.” A sober Winnie would be appalled by his own honesty but, in his addled state, he cares precious little. In fact, he’d go as far as to say he thinks it’s funny. “I know this because I know everything.”

Everything apart from when to stop drinking and when to stop talking, apparently.

It had become a habit that she wasn’t terribly proud of but that was admittedly too much fun, getting drunk. It didn’t happen often, before this it had happened at prom, and while in Europe it was difficult not to get drunk when every meal had to involve wine. The bottle she had gifted to Winnie was one of the ones she’d brought back from the trip. It was something special and Winnie was someone special to her. Maybe in a different way now, maybe in the exact same way as always, but at the moment everything was too fuzzy for her to know for sure. “Oh my goodness....” Was her response to his words, a dramatic pause following soon after. “You’re so right.” Laughter, both of theirs, filled the room again. 

Chase, even the name should have been enough to bring laughter to anyone’s lips. She knew how the two of them had ended up together and why it was so difficult for her to make any sort of permanent friends in Los Angeles. Although she still believed that if she had stayed she would have been able to maneuver her way through the city well. “He was a surfing instructor.” It was a whisper, as if it was a secret instead of well known information. “That should have been enough to signal how that was going to end.” It hadn’t been well and the worst part was that Carmen, who hadn’t even cried when she realized her parents’ fate, showed no emotional reaction to that either. Not even alcohol could get her to let go of those bottled up emotions, though. 

For a brief moment, she looked at Winnie out of the corner of her eye, then back up at the roof. “It should have been you.” Carmen told him in a matter-of-fact tone. “I know you’re not supposed to live in the past or whatever but it should have been you.” 

Charlie loved when Carmen came into the shop. She was a close friend, and her company was always welcome. Especially in her favorite place, a musical wonderland. “Carmen, my love! There are so many things I could rec. Okay, okay. Fiona Apple’s new record, Fetch the Bolt Cutters. Gabrielle Aplin had Dear Happy which is wonderful too. Oh! And Color Theory by Soccer Mommy.”

“Can I buy, like, all of them?” Carmen wondered genuinely, she wasn’t the best at listening to new music or even at finding it but Charlie always seemed to know what was actually good at the moment. Sure, because she worked at the record shop but she had always been that way even when they were younger. “How’s your day going?” 

“Exactly. As thankful as I am that I got a good education, the same can’t be said ‘bout the food. This is why my friends and I always ditched dances early to go to Taco Bell,” he laughed along with her, remembering the late night car rides they’d take all dressed up. He remembered lying to his mother, telling her that he’d made it to a friends house safe and sound when he was actually going for joy rides and drinking in the back seat of someone’s car. He was certainly wilder back then, and didn’t imagine he would be able to have the same sort of fun now even if he tried. “Totally agree. Really loosens ya up, lowers your inhibitions,” Cesar nodded, though for him that wasn’t always a good thing to add on to his PTSD. A grin plastered against his cheeks, the former officer (along with the faithful pup) walked beside Carmen as they made their way out to the hallway. “Damn, I haven’t been back here in years. The paint on the lockers is still chipping away,” he pointed out as he passed a row, partly attempting to remember where his old locker was. “Oh, obviously. They don’t have the same Mexican flair,” he teased, eyes narrowing as they approached the teacher’s lounge. “And, would ya look at that? Unlocked.” Cesar opened the door, allowing the brunette to enter first before him. “Alright, so I see the coffee machine – but where’s the coffee?” he pondered, pursing his lips slightly. “Maybe one of the cabinets? I’m thinkin’ we make ourselves some mugs, take ‘em back to the bar and load ‘em with tequila.”

”You’d think with all the wealthy people who live in this town they’d care more about how the school looks.” As if she wasn’t roped right in there with that demographic. There was certainly something to be said, however, about the giant houses that seemed to exist everywhere in Wilmington and the poor selection of food and maintenance at it’s public schools. “Of course.” She laughed, agreeing with him easily. Carmen who had always followed the rules and done everything as she should, even when she didn’t necessarily have to, felt more excited about this particular small adventure than Cesar could even begin to imagine. It was a little pathetic but at least she was trying. “That sounds like the perfect plan. I can’t believe we’re about to have the best drinks here.” Searching through the top cabinets, she let out an audible triumphant yelp once the package of coffee had been found. Holding it out for him to look at, she proceeded to read the label. “It’s the Colombia roast from Starbucks, I’m sure not what you would call the best but considering it could’ve been some vanilla type of coffee, I think we can call it a full win.” Without much of a pause she began to move to get the coffee brewing. “So, you’re the expert, what alcohol goes best with coffee?” 

                       He might have jumped at the idea a little too quick for anyone’s liking, that he knew, but the cop could easily play that off on the fact that he was craving some fried foods and nothing went down better with a couple batches of firesticks like whiskey topped with cubed ice. So, Beckoned. Cal swiveled around and began that short stint toward the bar in question with the stranger he had just met. “Carmen, you’ve got a point.” He repeated her name, as if it was committing the name to memory, then whistled as if he had got it. “Calvin McCoy.” It was then that he extended a hand for her to shake, before he retreated into his own personal bubble. “So, Carmen, you’ve just got an inkling for a basket of food or something on your mind to make you hit up Beckoned in the middle of the day? Not that I’m much of a complainer. I uh, could use it myself.”  

Vinyl Resting Place was sincerely one of Charlie Noh’s favorite places on earth. Working for the place was a dream, considering music was and would always be Charlie’s first love. It was a fairly slow Monday, so Charlie sipped on her peach snapple, humming along fondly to the Bowie record spinning on the deck. People were milling about, taking their time perusing the records, and Charlie wanted to talk music. “2020 has already dropped… the dopest shit. If you need any recs, I got you. I’m full of ‘em, I swear.”

@wilmingtonstarters​

Carmen knew that she would be there and it was honestly the only reason that she had decided to make her way over. While she herself did own a record player and frequented the place regardless, she was mostly looking forward to being able to see Charlie. The girl wasn’t hard to miss as she paraded around the place humming along to the music. “Well, you know I’m always behind on music trends so I’ll always take any recommendations you give me.”