( felix mallard, cismale, he/him, oc ) oh snap! is that CHASE RAYNOR? they work over at high volume where some of the other employees have labeled them as THE CREPEHANGER. that’s probably because they can be a bit ( pragmatic ) but also pretty ( stoic ) they’re TWENTY-THREE and they’ve been living in woodstock for THEIR WHOLE LIFE. it must be their shift because i totally hear ALICE IN CHAINS blasting from the record store. ( aesthetics: worn out black converse, blasting music to block out people’s voices, midnight walks, discarded graffiti spray under his bed, dull eyes ) [ JIA, 27, GMT+3, SHE/HER ]
muse’s anthem: in the end by linkin park
INTERVIEW | PINTEREST
STATISTICS.
NAME: Chase Andrew Raynor
AGE: 23
BIRTHDAY: May 19
ZODIAC SIGN: Taurus
GENDER & PRONOUNS: Cismale, he/him
FACE CLAIM: Felix Mallard
PARENTS: Harry (deceased) & Josephine Raynor
SIBLINGS: Dallas (25), Violet (18), Jacob (17) & Kimberly (15)
PLACE OF BIRTH & CURRENT RESIDENCE: Woodstock, Illinois
SEXUAL ORIENTATION: bisexual
HEIGHT: 5′10″ (1.78 m)
TATTOOS: the word surrender on his right wrist and two thick black arm bands on his left forearm
BACKGROUND.
Things weren’t always so messy for Chase. Born to Harry and Josephine Raynor, it was just him and Dallas for quite some time while their father was on deployment, making the brothers best friends. It’s safe to say that after Violet, Jacob, and Kimberly came into the picture, the house was loud and rowdy more often than not, but the Raynors were always tight and loving and as simple as you could expect.
Tragedy struck when their father died while on deployment when Chase was fourteen years old, and from there it all went downhill for the Raynors. What was once a happy family, became one plagued with trauma and grief. Their mother never really recovered from the loss of her husband, and she became a ghost of herself. While physically around, she was completely disconnected and it was Dallas and Chase who had to shoulder the responsibility of not only taking care of her, but also look after their young siblings and the house, both of them working while also studying in an attempt to make ends meet.
His plan to leave Woodstock came to life not long after his father died, and he tried to save up while helping Dallas out. Despite the hardships the eldest Raynor brothers encountered, they found support and understanding in each other.
It was them against the world. Till it wasn’t.
Roughly two years ago, Dallas decided it was time to make his dream alive and leave Woodstock to go on tour with his band, Van Buren. This had come as a big shock to Chase who felt both betrayed and abandoned, as he was left to pick up the pieces on his own. While that showed Chase that the dream of leaving was feasible, it also made things ten times harder for him and hit the brakes on his own plans to leave town because he would never leave his mother and his siblings on their own to fend for themselves when the latter were still so young.
PERSONALITY.
As his label says, he’s a pessimist (however, he’ll call himself a realist). That’s not to say he doesn’t try and work towards his goals, but he isn’t hopeful that anything will happen in his favor, often believing things won’t work in his favor. He believes it’s smarter and easier to navigate life that way. He wasn’t always that way, but with his father’s death and the never ending chaos that ensued afterwards, he became one. He’s direct and straight to the point, not one to waste time or beat around the bush, which makes him a little brutally honest and blunt sometimes and can make him come across as someone who doesn’t talk much. He’s the type that needs to get used to someone before he can comfortably talk to them and joke around. He’s also not one to show his emotions, regardless of what’s going on inside of him, which has given some people the impression that he’s more on the heartless end of the spectrum. His father’s death traumatized him to no end, and he’s never been able to grieve the loss properly.
HEADCANONS.
He’s a very skilled graffiti artist, and has been one since he was thirteen. It’s not something he readily or often shares about himself with people, opting to keep it to himself.
Ever since Dallas left, he hasn’t been able to keep a job to save his life. He’s worked four different jobs, most of which he quit early on.
He skateboards sometimes.
He played a little soccer in high school, but it wasn’t something he particularly cared about.
WANTED CONNECTIONS.
Friends who bicker for the fun of it
Childhood friends
Someone who likes to annoy Chase to get a reaction out of him <3
Someone who knows about his graffiti art (additionally maybe they like it and support him and even watch him while he does his art??)
Exes: could be during high school or more recent and we can discuss specifics!
Sibling like relationship
A one night stand they pretend never happened?? Idk I think it’s funny
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A SMILE SPREADS ON HER VISAGE the moment chase walks over to her. well, to be fair she has a lot of reasons to smile today. « i don’t know, maybe we should ask the husband first, » max jokes, eyes glancing at kem who’s in conversation with another wedding guest. she turns her attention back to chase and without missing a beat she reaches for his hand and tugs him with her out on the dance floor. « neither is the bride, » she laughs, but even if he were to step on her toes she’s not sure she’d even notice, so blissfully blind to any flaws this night inhabits. « i’m really glad you came. »
“That’s right... You’re married now,” he says the word married like it’s some weird thing, though his tone is laced with playfulness. It is weird, he didn’t think any of the people in the store would be up for something as huge as marriage any time soon, yet here they were, all attending a wedding of two coworkers. “You think Kem will mind?” He follows the direction she’s looking, eyes landing on Kem, a ghost of a smile forming on his lips as he looks back at Max. He follows her to the dance floor. He’s self conscious of his moves, not wanting to accidentally step on her toes. To be fair, he did warn her. “Congrats. You look good... Happy,” he notes. Well, obviously. “Are you ready for all that? Being married.”
– “THE WAY YOU TIE A TIE MAKES YOU LOOK LIKE A TODDLER, it’s embarrassing, ” blair remarks cooly, taking her drink from the bar. it’s probably not even a true statement, but she doesn’t know how to open a conversation with him without insulting him. the most relaxing thing about tonight is knowing that it might be the LAST that she ever has to lay eyes on chase raynor. it’s a relief. “ i didn’t know you were that close with kem or max, ” she adds, not that she pays remarkably close attention to chase. but he didn’t seem like he’d come out to a party for no reason, the loner that he is.
“Stop checking me out, Shapiro,” he retorts with ease, bringing the glass to his lips to take a sip. The conversation with her is always easy, in a way that the words slip out of his lips without needing to think about it, in a way he knows that she’ll accept whatever he says and retort back with equal ease. Does his tie look bad? He has no idea; it’s a miracle he’s even wearing a suit. “Closer to Max, yeah. Didn’t think weddings were your scene.”
as he takes a seat, kem removes his bowtie, releases a couple buttons from his shirt and takes a sip from his shoot — it’s that cheap champagne that’s not really champagne at all, but asking kem to find a fault today would be near enough impossible when just a few feet away is his wife.
he’ll watch max as she’s on the dancefloor, unable to prevent his laugh anytime he hears hers, bopping his head along to the music while he rests his feet a moment. he’s a terrible dancer — he would say the worst — yet all he wants to do is dance today. whether he’s bad or not, he literally couldn’t care less tonight.
he’ll catch the silhouette of another only when they come closer, a warm smile on his features as he turns to them, his gaze slowly following. “ you gotta invite me to yours now, it’s only fair. ”
Happy gatherings are things Chase tends to repel from, but after a mess of bad events, which had surprisingly ended in a good way, an event like this is well deserved to everyone. Hey, they all made it out alive. He moves to take a seat next to the groom, needing to rest a bit—the tuxedo’s bothering him for one. “Mine? As in... my wedding? Jesus.” That makes him chuckle lightly. “You’re talking to the wrong person. I’d try Blair, seems like someone who’d get married next.” They both know he’s bullshitting. “How do you feel, man?”
status : open to all // @volumeupdates
setting : woodacre barn wedding reception
WITH THE MYSTERY OF JERRY’S disappearance solved, a murderer back behind bars, and an oppressive court case finally over with, it’s starting to feel like the end of a movie. there’s a palpable sense of finality in the air, relief and anticipation in equal measure, and as he wanders through the barn - turned - reception - hall, trip can’t shake the feeling that this is probably the last time the remaining employees of volume records will all be in the same room together. he plans to make the most of it, immortalize it, for if this truly is the end of a movie, they’re going to need something to segue into the where are they now sequence.
he approaches each attendee individually, preferably alone and unbusy, with his cassette recorder in one hand and a mini - microphone attached to it in the other. a box of blank tapes holds his spot at one of the round tables in the center of the room, enough there to accommodate one 30 minute side per person. as he moves towards the next one on his mental checklist, trip punches the record button with his thumb, greets the other by name, and slips into his best paparazzo impression. ❝ got any words for this momentous day ? ❞ he asks.
“—What?” Trip catches him a little off guard. “What’s that for?” he wonders. Regardless of whatever it’s for, Chase’s not great with words, he’ll probably just end up saying the most basic things known to man. In a way, it is a momentous day, things are okay again, everything was solved and fixed and they can all breathe again, and they’re all gathered together for what may be the last time for a wedding. It’s been a tornado of events, and Chase never thought any of them would make it here, especially him. “Don’t tell me you haven’t written your speech and you want help.”
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“So how possible is it to to dance with the bride?” He walks over to Max, giving her a small smile. He almost doesn’t believe that he’s actually attending a wedding of his colleagues. It seems a little too surreal. Like everything is normal again—which it totally is. When he first found out Kem and Max were getting married, he had thought Max was pregnant. As far as he’s concerned, why would anyone want to get married so young? Regardless, he is happy for the pair! “Don’t tell her though, I’m not the best dancer out there.”
there’s a light scoff directed at chase’s question. they scrunch their nose, scratching their eyebrow as they think of what they want to say. “probably not.” definitely not. but that’s a worrying answer and chase has got more important things to worry about. “i’ll let you know when i figure it out,” they comment, huffing in amusement at their own words. marty sighs, shrugs at chase’s words — if he’d asked weeks ago, maybe marty would have a better answer for him other than, “shit, i don’t know, okay?” marty’s frustrated with the whole thing. someone died, there’s a gang but it’s a bunch of people that did something less than legal just to keep afloat the place they work at that have to worry about some court date. “some… fuckin’ law loophole or something that can help us get out of this shit storm without landing our asses in jail for somethin’ stupid. i don’t even know if he’s still at it.” marty shrugs, fingers picking at dry skin.
marty takes chase’s hand, squeezing it slightly. “it’s fucked up, i know.” there’s no way of sugarcoating it, even if marty wanted to do it. their eyebrows furrow at chase’s answer and they wonder just why he denies the help. “i don’t see why not.” it’s not like it would make things any worse — they’re in a debt, along with jamie, that they can never pay back and their name is on the list for a court date they see no point to. one more mess would make little difference ( both in the grand scheme of things and her relationship with the sheriff — or lack thereof ) and marty would be able to, at least, give chase something less to worry about. “i can play the worried i-was-there-and-it-was-scary step-child part better than you think, chase.” on top of the fact marty doesn’t really give a shit whether or not that brings heat down on them.
—
That’s Marty Tsui code for definitely not. A silence hangs for a few moments, not sure how to go about this. He wants to help, but at the same time, he doesn’t want to come across as pushy. He nods. “Yeah, let me know or I’ll come bothering you about it,” he warns with a shadow of a smile. “And if there’s anything I can do, you know the drill.” His brows furrow at their understandable frustration, and another silence hangs for a bit. He’s still confused, unsure what exactly Marty even did to get into this mess, but he’ll take what he can get from the other. “For fuck’s sake.” He lets out a sigh. “Who would’ve thought we’d be both potentially end up in messes that involve the law?” It’s a rhetorical question. If anything, he always figured his graffiti hobby would get him in trouble with the law, and if he and Marty were to get into trouble, it would be for things less severe. He can’t say he’s surprised life has taken such a fucked up direction for him, though.
He appreciates their gesture, and squeezes their hand right back, nodding at their words. Fucked up is an understatement, he thinks to himself. He can’t even find the right word to describe the situation he’s in. “You’re already dealing with your own shit, Marty. You don’t need more on your plate, especially when it involves the law,” he answers with a sigh. He’d never forgive himself if Marty ended up in a bigger mess because of him. He scoffs in amusement, turning to look at her. “You’re not that great of an actor,” he jokes, in an attempt to deflect from the situation at hand, but even he knows there’s no running away from it—as much as he tries.
status : closed for @chaseraynor
setting : the skatepark
IT’S BEEN A HOT MINUTE since trip’s visited the skatepark, mainly because it’s been the exact opposite of hot the entire time he’s been back in town. but now with summer around the bend and a weeks worth of free time on his hands as jennifer sorts out security systems or whatever, trip finds there’s no time like the present to go back to his roots. in a lot of ways, the place feels exactly the same. chase is with him for one thing, reminiscent of many, many summers spent busting shins on the ramps with him and dallas. there are some things trip doesn’t recognize though, and he marvels up at one such thing now, letting out a long, low, impressed whistle as he does so. ❝ yo chase, how long has this been here ? ❞ he calls for the other’s attention, pointing at the wall he’s standing at where a large, spray - painted bird takes roost. ❝ i woulda thought this graffiti artist had moved on from woodstock by now. ❞
Every since the hoedown throwdown party, Chase knew High Volume wouldn’t see a moment of peace—and he was right. The robbery was only the start of it. Strengthening the security system is a good step, but from what he’s seen and heard about the people they’re dealing with, it’s going to take much more to control and stop them. To no one’s surprise, he’s hanging out in skate park, just taking some time to himself before he heads back home. He can’t remember the last time he’s seen Trip here, his presence naturally taking Chase to a trip down memory lane, all involving Dallas, of course. He looks over at the art he’s pointing at, which happens to be the raven Chase had done a few weeks ago. “Not sure, a few weeks maybe? It’s definitely new.” He shrugs. Not many people know he tags these walls, no one knows he even likes to graffiti. He prefers to keep it to himself. “Doesn’t look like it. Maybe they like the town too much.” Hardly.
“sure,” she nods. “also a possibility. that’s too bad. i was really hoping maybe i’m just part chameleon.” a part of her has always thought this to be true. or maybe she’s just good at disappearing, which would make her something else entirely. she notices his face turn in her periphery, and she stifles a smile. “oh, there’s nothing there. just checking to make sure my vision’s still perfect.” her gaze returns to chase.
“no.” a strained expression crosses her face at the admission. “i don’t really know him, it would feel a little self-serving, i think.” sloane cocks her head. she’ll probably still go, to be honest. “i do, i never leave home without them.” she affirms, rocking back and forth on her heels. “so do you ever go anywhere besides the skate park? your house doesn’t count, and neither does work.”
“Sorry to break it to ya, you need to better work on that,” he lightly jokes with a shrug. Maybe he’s just someone who tends to be hyper aware of his surroundings, which made it easier for him to notice her. He doesn’t know why, but even after she tells him there’s nothing there, he takes another look. He doesn’t even realize he’s done that till it happens. He shakes his head, mainly at himself and eyes her. “And? Is it still perfect?” He quirks an eyebrow at her, as if he’s waiting for something big.
He nods, letting a silence hang for a few moment. “Is it really? Self-serving, I mean." He doesn’t believe it is, not when they were one of the few people who know what went down and had a big role in the way things unfolded. A shadow of a smile curves up his lips. “Share with the crowd then.” The crowd being him. “You just narrowed it down quite a lot.” He shrugs. “It’s my go-to place. But uh, the Wild Rover’s cool, too. I sometimes hang out there.” He rubs the nape of his neck. “You? House and work don’t count, too.”
“Hi Chase.” She greets Chase back with a friendly smile and a little energetic wave. After spending so much time cooped up in her room or High Volume, Josie welcomed any kind of outing, no matter how small. “I’m good. What about you? How’s Violet?”
“I’m alright,” he lies effortlessly, and gives her a smile for good measure. “She’s doing well, too. She’s been in classes all day.” He felt better knowing Violet’s college schedule (given his youngest two were still at school and their schedule was obvious). He naturally worried about his siblings, so knowing their whereabouts at all times helped control that worry to an extent, especially when he’s at work or with friends. “She mentioned the other day that now I see you more than she does,” he jokes lightly.
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“ I KNOW, I KNOW, ” he sighs. by now any advice about sera from his friends all sounds the same, to the point where eric’s beginning to think it might actually be worth following. “ look, i was just thrown off seeing her with that guy during the party, but i know what i’m doing now. it was the alcohol, man. you know how it can be. ” chase more than anyone else knows that eric’s not normally like that, only under the influence of a LOT of booze. he pauses for a few seconds before asking, “ do you really think she’s moved on ? ” it stings to hear chase use those words, as if it’s something eric should be moving on from, too. he makes a face when chase steals the joint from him. really, he should always expect eric to have pot on him, especially in his own home. hearing his friend’s laugh makes him smile slightly. and who says humor isn’t the best way to cope ? but eric should’ve known with chase, he wouldn’t let it stay light for very long. “ we’re not going to jail, ” his head shakes, and even if eric doesn’t feel very strongly about what they’ve done, he knows he has to be the positive one between them. he always is. “ we’ll be fine, as long as we don’t tell anyone. ”
He nods in understanding, knowing it was the result of the combination of alcohol and the surprise of finding Sera with someone else. Still, he’s concerned about his best friend and he wants him to move past this so he can get his shit together. There’s a pause at his question, to which he shrugs to. “It doesn’t matter what I think. She’s with someone else.” And that’s the reality of the matter. There’s no point of thinking of the what ifs and what they really think and try to understand things. That would defeat the purpose of everything he’s told him. “We’re not going to jail,” he repeats, as if he’s trying to convince himself and cope with the anxiety boiling inside of him. Even if nothing happens, the guilt he’s feeling over indirectly ending someone’s life—even though it was to protect and help a friend in danger—is one that’ll stay with him. That he knows. He takes another drag from the joint and gives it back, nodding. “Besides, letting anyone in on this mess is screwing them over, too.”
are you okay? every time that question leave someone’s lips, marty swears she feels claws lightly ripping down her back, causing her to uncomfortably shift in place, moving her neck from side to side in a vain attempt at releasing something in a way that doesn’t end up with her shutting down completely. “yeah, i’m cool.” with the trial, at least. marty chooses not to think too much about it, about what it could mean if things don’t go well. “ethan’s lookin’ into stuff, y’know, so i’m sure he’s going to figure something out to help us.” marty shrugs, gives chase a weak half-smile before her attention is fully on him. and the more chase shares, the more marty’s stance deflates. he doesn’t deserve to be in the middle of any of this — truthfully, none of them do. not like this, with someone’s death on their shoulder. “shit, dude.” he was right. marty does swallow her words. a few heartbeats pass, marty “you guys helped max, that’s a good thing, right? and if it makes it any better, that dude… the one that, y’know, he — well, he gave kc some nasty third degree burns back when he set fire to high volume’s backroom.” not that that would justify anything, marty supposes, but it’s better than to hurt someone that didn’t have some karma tallying up, right? it’s a weak attempt, marty knows that much — and they hate how bad they are at giving chase what they think he needs right there and then. “i can ask the sheriff about it, if you want me to. to try and understand whether they think it was just bad luck or if someone was involved.”
—
“Cool cool, or?” She’s deflecting and he knows it, partly because it’s something he would do too and partly because he knows her. “Into stuff? So what exactly’s the deal? I’m still confused.” She’s still only giving him bits and pieces, hardly enough for the full picture to formulate in his head. A silence hangs from his end as he lets the story sink in. It’s a lot, he would know. It feels like something straight out of a shit action movie, and yet, non of it is fiction, it’s all very real and jarring. He’s still wrapping his head around it even as he tells Marty all about it. It’s crazy—he only joined High Volume because he needed money and instead he has found himself in the middle of something bizarre going on. He had already known enough from Eric when he first got hired, but clearly not the full story with all it’s exhausting details. A good part of him thought that it was all in the past, even when he knew fully well why they were throwing that party, he didn’t expect any of those gang members to show up.
“Yeah. I mean, I don’t regret helping Max in the slightest. I’d do it again,” he says with vehemence. “Just—he’s dead, Marty.” They indirectly killed a guy. He shakes his head at their offer, not wanting Marty to interfere mainly because he’s worried their interference would get them in trouble and he knows how tense their relationship with their sheriff stepdad is. “No, no. Don’t involve yourself in this mess.” They’re already in one as it is. “And obviously, don’t tell anyone.” He already knows they won’t, but he feels the need to say it. “It’s just me, Eric and Sloane who know. I think Max and Kem sense something, but that’s about it.”
– “WOW, CHASE RAYNOR, finding joy in someone else’s misery, ” blair taunts, “ could you try not to be so predictable for a change ? ” though there’s a quiet comfort in it. with the way he’s been so silent all morning, she finds peace in his usual griping. she actually has to try not to smile with some sort of relief. teeth drag across her lower lip for a beat as she mulls over the thought. “ well, you’re usually so meticulous, ” blair points out. “ you might not like it, but i have known you for a long time. ” so, maybe they don’t know each other in the way that friends do, she doesn’t know his favorite song or the place he lost his virginity. but she knows other things, stuff you pick up about a person over time, and for someone that’s spent so much of it being ANNOYED by it all – some of it sticks. “ i am not concerned. just curious, there’s a difference, ” she corrects. hair flipped over her shoulders, she smirks at him : “ just sit here. ”
“No, just finding joy in your misery. You get it wrong once again,” he corrects for her, clicking his tongue. It’s odd to find a sense of normalcy and relief in this antagonistic back and forth, find a sense of normalcy and relief with Blair Shapiro of all people, but he does. This whole conversation is normal, as opposed to what’s going on in his life right now. He’s not pleased he finds that here, but he’ll take it. She’s right—he doesn’t like that she’s known him a long time and what that implies. Granted, he could say the exact same to her. They both know it’s not merely about his meticulousness, no, it’s more than that. It’s years of knowing a person and catching some things that make them who they are. “Your curiosity isn’t getting you anywhere.” It probably would; he would know how incessant and persistent she is. It just won’t get her anywhere with him. “Wow, Blair Shapiro, being lazy and unhelpful. Could you try not to be so predictable for a change?” he drawls, imitating her own words.
for a second, nisa doesn’t know if chase’s expression is from shock she brought it up, or because he genuinely doesn’t remember her. but when he corrects his features, he settles on something challenging, not confused. which she takes as confirmation he wasn’t drunk enough — nor was she forgettable enough — for his question to be a genuine one. “maybe a different angle would jog your memory.” her head tilts in exaggerated consideration. “should i get on my knees?” he doesn’t shoot her suggestion down immediately, though, there’s a beat when she thinks he’s just coming up with the best way to scold her for her work habits. she’s pleasantly surprised that isn’t the case. “just once.” it’s a lie, but she figures she has to strike a balance between convincing him they won’t get in trouble and not giving him enough ammunition to snitch. “eric and i cut out a little early one shift,” she adds for good measure. she’s still figuring out her new coworkers, but it doesn’t take much to see how close eric and chase are; attaching herself to him should keep her safe. “but we can stick around and clean. if you really want to.”
If he thought was she said before was surprising, it doesn’t even come close to right now. He remembers Nisa being brazen and outspoken when they had first met, so maybe he shouldn’t be surprised. Except, once again, to his detriment, it shows that he’s caught off guard. It’s mere seconds and he realizes that it’s actually amusing. This whole thing keeps getting more and more amusing by the minute, knowing she’s more than ready to shoot back at whatever he says. Caught off guard or not, Chase isn’t giving her the satisfaction. Though it’s probably obvious to both sides right now that they remember way more of that night than they’re both letting on. “Must’ve been unmemorable if you gotta jog my memory, Nisa.” He tilts his head, too, mimicking her and keeps his tone neutral with just a hint of taunting in it. “Just once. You expect me to believe that?” He scoffs, a shadow of a smile curving up his lips as he shakes his head. He’s not surprised it had been with Eric of all people. “No, I don’t really want to stick around and clean.” He hates the night shift. “You say ‘we’ as if you’re going to help out.” But he’s already going to the cash register to lock it as he says that.
“yeah, and i’m never doing it again. that shit made me feel dirty,” jamie chuckles, leaning back against the wall next to where chase is at work. he reaches into his pocket for the pre-rolled joint that he usually has on deck, grabbing it along with his lighter as he nods appreciatively at chase’s response. jamie’s not much of an artist– always had more of a knack for math and practical skills than creativity– but he can definitely appreciate the type of art that comes out of breaking rules. tagging walls with chase is probably the most creative he’s ever felt, and jamie thinks most of it came from the rebellious nature of the act itself. it was freeing. and if he’s honest, he kind of misses that feeling. “nice. is that a poetry thing? i think i remember something about a raven from high school english class.”
“You haven’t come empty-handed either,” he points out, indicating the joint. It really does feel like nothing has changed. If it wasn’t them tagging things together, it was them smoking a quick joint during or afterwards. In the midst of all the chaos going on, it was appreciated having some semblance of normality. He looks back at his unfinished work a little too long. When he came out here tonight, he hadn’t planned to spray paint a raven, but with everything being worse than the usual, it took him a few short moments of contemplating to decide this is what he wanted to work on. “Symbol of bad fortune.” He clicks his tongue after he replies. It’s not the first time Chase tags things that have negative or gloomy meaning, given that his work was a reflection of his own thoughts.
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“ SHIT, ” he sighs out, air blowing into the beer bottle and making a short whistle noise. at this rate, sera’s gonna marry this ethan guy, if the alternative is getting back with eric’s crazy ass. even he has enough tact to know he went off the deep end. blair’s words still echo in his head : play it cool. clearly he didn’t do that. and right now, that wasn’t even the worst part of it all. after another swig of beer, he makes a face and puts it down. after such a drunk night, the beer isn’t particularly comforting. the joint he pulls out of his pocket, on the other hand, is another story. he told wes he’d stop smoking in the living room, but one more time won’t kill him, right ? “ i’m not looking to go to jail any time soon, ” eric says after a drag of his joint, leaning back into the couch. he silently offers it to chase. “ i’m too pretty to jail. those dudes would have a field day trying to tap my ass. and my mom would be pissed. ”
“You need to tone it down. Hardcore,” he begins, going straight for it. His tone of voice is calm despite the straight-forward words. Ever since Sera broke up with Eric, Chase has been watching his best friend act out, thinking it was just an initial reaction that would die out. While the news of her new relationship is surprising, Eric can’t keep acting that way. He’s not only worried about him, but also he can’t imagine Sera being comfortable with all of this. “You don’t want to lose her, right? But also she’s clearly moved on. Just... try to keep things civil, attempt a friendship with her.” He doesn’t know just how much he’s going to take his words to heart, but he’d like to believe Eric wasn’t proud of his behavior. “You have a joint and you wait till now to say something?” He scoffs, taking it from him and taking a drag. “No shit. No one’s looking to go to jail.” There’s a long pause as he registers Eric’s words before he starts to laugh—the last reaction he expects to have. “You’re a fucking idiot.” There’s another pause as the gravity of the situation finds its way back to the conversation, a loud sigh escaping his lips. “There’s no one to look after my mom and siblings if I end up in jail.” Saying it out loud is so much worse than just thinking about it, it actually makes him nauseous.
the law is fucked. marty can’t help but scoff at those words. “what else is new?” she’s amused by them but she also hates what it makes her think of first: the fact that the law now lives in the same house where marty grew up in, walking the same halls that she could navigate through in the dark without any hesitation. the law is fucked but marty also knows if there’s a system, you can fuck with it. they sure have fun fucking with the sheriff whenever they get the chance. for a moment, marty just looks at chase. their eyebrows furrow for a heartbeat, eyes kept on him before she shifts in place. “born ready, you know this.” even though there’s a playful tone lacing her words, there’s also a tinge of worry somewhere in there. “just spill it, raynor. i’m sure it’s not as bad as you might think.”
“What’s up with that trial? Are you okay?” His brows furrow, wondering just long Marty has been dealing with such a thing and he had no idea. He’s not exactly surprised they would keep it in—he’s known Marty for a long time and knows they have a strong tendency to keep things bottled in. However, that didn’t mean he wouldn’t give her a light and little push to talk, as a reminder of sorts that he is here. “You’re going to swallow your words, Tsui,” he points out and relaxes back, rubbing his face. He wasn’t planning on telling anyone, so he has no idea how to actually start this. He looks around to make sure it’s just them. “—Uh, that explosion that happened? It was me, Eric, and Sloane,” he begins, lowering his voice and looking over at her to see her reaction. “Eric had told me Max was in trouble and then we heard a gunshot. It was a no-brainer that we needed to create a diversion to help, you know? Sloane suggested fireworks and we started a fire.” A pause. “I just... none of us expected for things to fucking escalate that way.” Or for someone to end up dead because of it. He doesn’t regret helping his friends. He would do it again and again, in a heartbeat. It’s the the result and the aftermath and what it means if they get caught that has him anxious.
