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* for some reason, beau didn’t realize who he asked. ‘nice job, dumass’, he thought. in his defense, it was dark. but he stood in attention, waiting for the answer he knew he would get from minkyu. “yeah, sorry. i didn’t recognize you for a second.” he muttered, knowing he wasn’t making the situation any better for either of them. “i – uh – how’ve you been?” he asked, putting the cigarette away for the moment.
at least he hadn’t been called by his twin’s name. that hurts worse than anything and was the main motivator in dyeing his hair platinum and maintaining it fastidiously. as much distance as he could put between himself and the past, barbed and aching. “n--no worries!” he’s quick to assure, a blush born of shyness dusting his cheeks. the small talk is... uncomfortable but not unwelcome. some of jae’s old friends didn’t even try no matter how many times minkyu had hung out with the group. “okay -- i mean, could be better, well...--” eloquent as always, “trying to find my own place?” you and what money, minkyu.
maya has always liked going down to the rec center to volunteer. especially since she’s been back in irving. it was something that made her feel good about herself. like today, for example. an off day turned to the rec center calling and asking her to come substitute the art class offered that day for the kids. 20 kids, 1 adult; water colors. what more could a person ask for? as hectic as it was, she was able to send them all home with something to show off. after class, as she was cleaning up, she heard the door open behind her. “ sorry! the class is over for today! ” she said, back still turned towards them. [ @irvingstarters ]
“sadly, i’m not here to glue macaroni onto paper plates or sprinkle glitter onto wet paint,” hinata sighs, making a dramatic show of pushing her bucket and mop duo into the room. “i am here as hired assistance.” hired might be an overstatement. being forced to do community service at the rec center in exchange for not having the cops called on her most recent act of boredom vandalism is hardly equivalent to someone making a decent wage. hell, she’s even a step below volunteering but still. best not to air out her dirty laundry in front of total strangers. “are you ready to have me start mopping or would you rather have a hand cleaning up all...” hina gestures vaguely to some remaining supplies, “that.”
Poised cross-legged on the beach, Frankie had put together a haphazard and frankly sad looking sand castle. It consisted of more sticks than actual sand, tilting to the point where it looked as if it could collapse at any second, but if he was worried he didn’t show it. Instead, he spent his time slapping a leaf off it and grumbling under his breath - would have continued with the method if he didn’t notice someone close by approaching. Probably wouldn’t have been able to notice the lighter shoved in the middle of it until they were close enough, “Hi,” he greeted, still staring at the castle, “I’m, uh… I’m manifesting my lighter starts working. It died but… I want a cigarette, so. If you know how to, uh, manifest properly, I could use the help.” @irvingstarters
“mani...festing?” daehyun mutters with a confused look, brow furrowing and head cocking to one side. it’s not that he doesn’t understand the word -- though some do still trip him up from time to time -- but rather he doesn’t understand why a pile of wet sand was going to do anything for the stranger’s desire for a cigarette. “looks more like you’re hosting a burial -- perhaps say a few words? memories, you know?” it’s delivered flatly but with an amused edge, combat boot digging down into the sand (as something to focus on; he’s had his staring mistaken for something intense before). “i have one though, if yours doesn’t magically revive.” he doesn’t smoke often, carrying around the matte black lighter more for the aesthetic than anything else.
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* “alright, kids, last song of the night! remember to leave me some tips of the money kind in the jar by the DJ booth and return your skates – yes, that means you dick-head!” beau announced over the speakers as he points to a random kid who honestly didn’t look like he wanted to be there. his lips pulled themselves into a small smile assuring the kid he was joking. looking over his playlist, he plays maneskin’s version of ‘beggin’ as people crowded off the rink. he took his time gathering his study tools into a small sachel and exited the DJ booth – humming to himself along with the song, beau passed a few kids who waved him along for the night. as he reached outside, he went around to the side of the building to smoke, trying to wait out the masses that are attempting to clear the parking lot. standing under a single street light, he waves down someone passing him. “gotta light?” he asked.
@irvingstarters
minkyu used to love the roller rink. as a child, he had assumed that being a dancer would lend him a sense of balance that would translate well onto skates. he had been gravely mistaken and his skateboarding twin mastered the craft far before minkyu stopped bobbling and falling every which way. once jae had his fun skating circles around his brother, he took the time to help teach minkyu how to keep upright at the very least. they went together up until it wasn’t cool anymore and even then, minkyu would tag along as jae hung out with his friends around the rink, loitering and doing whatever it is teenage ‘cool kids’ did on the weekends. while he has no explicit reason to be there now -- knowing even a tiny tumble would cause his injuries to flare up -- he had food to pickup nearby and even muffled and only spilling out as the door opened and closed around crowds of younger kids, the music drew him in. he doesn’t expect to be noticed, preferring to fade into the background, so he startles at the sound of a voice. he briefly considers acting as if he hadn’t heard and continuing his walk home but they’ve made eye contact easily over the heads of much shorter bodies and if there’s one thing minkyu hates more than crowds its awkwardness. or, more specifically, the fact that he’s nearly always the cause of it. “i - uh, sorry,” kyu shrugs as he comes to a stop. he blinks at the speaker, processing, until his brain connects a name to the face. beau. minjae’s friend. he pats his pockets as though he was going to find his twin’s spare lighter stored away after all this time but, naturally, turns up empty. “you know i don’t sm-- er, sorry.” eloquent, as always.
ruizza: Never! It's not that easy to get rid of me.
ruizza: Well, come on, we can talk about it still! I think it's alright to complain about days that could be worse. They're good to have sometimes too, huh? Cause it really makes you appreciate the good days :)
ruizza: "Gorgeous" makes me blush haha. It's been alright, a little stressful. My parents are making the drive from Salt Lake pretty soon which I think is fun, but I may disappear again. Oh and I met some pretty cool people so far. :) Yes to the heavy lifting. I can skip out on the gym for a bit because of it.
honeyboy♡: i sure hope not! i don't want to be rid of one of my favorites!!
honeyboy♡: i'm not usually paid to complain. whine? yes. complain? no. i suppose you're right though. if it means anything today is a much better day since you're back online!
honeyboy♡: that's what i'm here for!! i can't believe you're going to let your parents steal you from me! but it's nice that they care enough to help. moving is rough but especially when you do it alone. i had to hire big strong men to help me when i did it last - sadly they were nothing to look at AND pretty pricey! you'd have helped me, right?
ruizza: Honey, hey! I meant to chat you a few days ago but I've been so busy with moving everything in to my new apartment that I haven't had time.
ruizza: Things have been hectic on my end, but it's nothing I can't get through with the strength of God. How are things with you?
honeyboy♡: i was beginning to wonder if you'd gotten tired of me! i'm very glad to hear that's not the case. i've missed you!
honeyboy♡: i've had better days but i've also had worse so i suppose i can't complain. but how was your move gorgeous? not too stressful, i hope? any heavy lifting? ;)
there are very little moments in her life that dayana found herself somewhat… insecure ( ? ) but when she does cuddle herself under that emotion, it’s likely when she’s around sunny. she’s gone from hanging on their coattails because of the luxurious life she thinks they live - yes, she’s shallow as fuck - and the man-eating attitude they show, to actually enjoying their company . who knew ? whether or not the platonic feeling was mutual meant very little to her, of course . “ human shrek was fucking horrifying, sunny, he looked like the physical embodiment of a fucked up polaroid. ” and if that answer wasn’t obvious enough for them, she confirmed. “ ogre shrek, obviously. g’head, let me have it . ”
it’s not a conversation they thought they’d be having -- with anyone really and especially not sober. fuckable animated characters seems like a topic to loudly debate over cosmos while getting side eyes from the pta moms at the bar for happy hour. “let it be put on the record that i would absolutely not let ogre shrek rail me under most circumstances,” -- they don’t clarify most --, “but sadly you’re not wrong about his human form. maybe if he had a beard his terrifying maw could be disguised but as is -- you’d be better off bedding the jolly green giant.” they make an exaggerated gagging sound, visibly shuddering. “i am sincerely questioning your taste in men now though, i hope you know. at least if you’d come to me with the hot take that the guard who tortures gingy could get it, i couldn’t chalk it up to a healthy interest in bdsm.”
- DATE: november 1st, 2018 (but of events occurring october 31st, 2018)
- LOCATION: song residence, irving nc
- OTHER NOTES: tw underaged drinking, emetophobia (brief), dubious consent (non-sexual), slight mention of death
there’s never been a time that minkyu wished he engaged in his brother’s penchant for teenage drinking so much as now. head throbbing for reasons that have nothing to do with a hangover, he huffs out a breath and buries his face back into his pillow. on the other side of the queen bed, he can hear minjae snoring peacefully. good. after spending most of the early morning hours crouched near where his twin was bent over the toilet, cold compress held to his neck, it was good to see him sleeping soundly.
prickles of guilt slide up kyu’s spine, keeping him from closing his eyes and settling back in for a few more hours of gilded sleep. he stirs restlessly, tousling dark locks as he seeks solace further in the pillow’s softness. although he’d always take care of his twin without hesitation, last night had felt more urgent. he needed to atone.
secrets between brothers were wrong, but secrets between twins was betrayal.
the night had begun like any other ‘halloween party’ might’ve. oh-too-trusting parents had agreed to let their sons host the bash of the century (or at least of the autumnal season) and made themselves scarce by visiting a family friend. the day had been spent adding to the already impressive fake cobwebs and witches cauldrons strewn around the home in decoration. minkyu, of course, found himself doing more of the work while jae spent most of it texting his girlfriend but, still. by the time costumes were on, the song residence was ready for debauchery
minjae was in charge of that much. he knew how to score them a plethora of cheap beers and various mixable liquors which combined questionably with gummy eyeballs and green powerade to keep with the holiday’s vibe. kyu was convinced his brother had more tricks up his sleeve, harder drinks and other intoxicants, but he wasn’t going to ask. it was better not to know.
once it got late enough, the house filled quickly. minkyu didn’t even know if he could name all the people coming and going, drawn to the thrum of the bass and the promise of free alcohol. he held his place at the outskirts of the crowds. a wallflower and perfectly lovely host, he’d refill glasses, politely answer questions about his costume (the peter pan to his twin’s captain hook; jae’s idea plus it repurposed some of his old ballet tights), and fuss about trying to make sure no family personal effects were damaged in the revelry.
some instinctive part of him wanted to dance, body desperate to get on the same frequency as the music making their whole home rattle. however, he wasn’t quite brave enough to get in the middle of the grinding and jumping teens called ‘dancing’ and he certainly wasn’t about to embarrass himself on the edges by dancing on his own. it was still fun, in its own way. he got to watch minjae in his element, laughing, drinking surrounded by friends, girlfriend on his arm (dressed as wendy, of course). the more raucous the party got, the more jae’s painstakingly kyu-applied makeup smudged and his pirate hat was discarded at some point, but all were signs that he was having a good time.
minkyu, for his part, made menial small talk with passing school friends, proudly accepted compliments on the ‘sick party’ and ‘cool decorations, man,’ picked up after minjae, and would’ve been content to leave it at that. some of his dance crew even made it out which brightened his night considerably though he’s not sure any of them stayed (about their scene as much as it was his). halloween was a success and as it creeped past one, kyu’s social battery was running on low. physical exhaust weighed on his slim tunic clad shoulders as well -- he’d been up since 5am for dance practice, after all. a few more smiles and waves and he was ready to turn in.
first, he’d check on minjae one last time. a gauge of his state would tell kyu whether or not he’d be napping, prepared to take care of his drunk brother later on in the evening or fully sleeping, confident he could leave his twin to his own devices. instead of finding jae, though, it was his brother’s girlfriend who found him. if her breath was anything by which to judge, kyu would most definitely be up with jae if he’d had even a fraction of the cocktails she’s consumed.
despite their height difference, she has an arm looped comfortably around minkyu’s neck before he can even process quite what he’s stumbled upon. “jae baby!” she delights, drawing in close to minkyu’s side.
“oh, er, no, i’m looking for him?” applying a logic to the situation felt like the only possible out. minkyu could tell she was confused, bless her. “where’d you last see him?” he tried to pry his way out of her grip, gently but with feeling. the glassiness of her gaze as they connected eyes should have told him he wouldn’t be getting an answer and she wobbled precariously in her heels (why was wendy wearing heels, actually? didn’t suit the costume, in kyu’s opinion).
“come with me!” came her suggestion instead. if minkyu were any more versed in the art of coquetry, he may have seen her expression as a warning sign. if he had any experience from which to draw, he may have broken away from where she linked their hands, excused himself, and continued the search on his own. innocently, obliviously, he thought she’d lead him to minjae -- not to the guest bedroom.
“jae?” kyu called into the half darkness, now his turn at bemusement. did his twin crash earlier than him? not make it up to their bedrooms on the second floor? why was his hand still being held and -- oh.
with all his lanky height and typically pristine dancer’s balance, minkyu was knocked off center by his brother’s girlfriend crowding him up against the now-closed bedroom door. her posture had changed to loop arms back around his neck and he had just enough time to make an awkward squawk of a sound before lips found his in the darkness. his eyes remained open and his whole body rigid in painfully sober surprise. hands were dropped to his sides, palms flat against the door.
what? she had the twins confused. it was a case of mistaken identity. sure they were in drastically different costumes but it’s very clear from how she’s kissing, liquor soaked tongue not finding entry against minkyu’s clamped shut lips, that she has no idea he’s not minjae. fingers make their way up into his hair, tug with no response. he’s processing, panicking, begging it all to end so he doesn’t have to be the one to do so. it’s his first kiss, stolen, and by the girl that his brother told him might actually be ‘the one’. no no no no.
his usual softness be damned, he firmly grabbed her by the waist and pushed away. she stayed upright, thankfully, but her expression seemed heartbroken. no. don’t make this worse. “don’t you want me? you were saying you want me!” her voice wavered and he wasn’t sure if it was the alcohol or an immediate threat of tears. kyu wasn’t about to stick around to find out.
freedom found, he coached his paralyzed limbs into action, opening the door and darting out of the room. his heart hammered in his chest, no, and he was sure that people were staring -- no. as he sped his way past the party and sprinted up the stairs, he raised a free hand to his lips. there’s lipstick smudged there, he can feel it, sticky and incriminating. he had to tell minjae. he had to find minjae.
but that would mean returning back to the party, risking people getting ideas seeing him in this disheveled state and, even worse, running into her and having to explain. no. he couldn’t do it. not with his heart still flying at a hummingbird’s pace and his mind replaying the horrible discomfort of it all with striking detail. why did people ever kiss? why when it was so warm and wet and strange.
he’d stay sitting on the floor of his bedroom, eyes scrunched closed and head pressed against the door, for over half an hour, ruminating until the guilt felt entirely his own burden to bear. by the end of it, he didn’t think it’d matter that she was drunk, that she thought he was minjae, that he’d broken it off as soon as he could. his first kiss was with his brother’s girlfriend and there would be no changing that. ever. all he could do was hope that she was too drunk to remember what he’s too sober to forget.
the telltale stumbling of his twin coming up the stairs served as the end of his pity party and, with limbs heavy from disuse, he made his way towards the sound, ready to play the part of perfect brother.
“kyu?” comes minjae’s groggy query, voice as pale as the early morning sun rays streaming in through the window. “y’there?” of course he was there. he’s always going to be there, for so long as he can help it. kyu gives a hum of response, not yet trusting himself not to just blurt out his offenses. “some party, huh?”
one could say that again. he can hear a sleepy pride in his brother’s voice. aside from the unceremonious ending -- minkyu clearing people out after it was clear both hosts would be out of commission -- it had been a good night, in jae’s eyes. kyu just wishes he could feel the same. maybe he should tell him now, get it over with, let his twin decide culpability and consequences while he’s not yet feeling the heaviness of his hangover. but -- no.
“go back to sleep, jae,” kyu returns gently instead, turning onto his side to face away from the other. “we’ll get you back in your own bed when it’s actually legal to be awake.” it’s said with affection and apparently it’s enough for jae to drift off, breathing evening out slowly. minkyu will take it to the grave, he decides.
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it didn’t take luca long to realize that the surf shop was an absolute mess. it was bad enough he had to stay in his father’s house: a bachelor pad that was verging on becoming a hoarder’s nest. at least he could throw most of that away. but when it came to surfing, he had no clue. a cloud of dust erupted when he opened the door and it’d taken him all morning just to clean.
“we’re closed,” he said as he heard someone come in through the door. he’d left it open to get a breeze going but forgot to put a sign out front.
the more time that passes, the more hinata feels like she may very well be trapped here in irving. she got a one way ticket from her parents -- which should have been her first clue -- and no means of paying for a return flight. familiarizing herself with the area had once felt touristy and like a way to kill the time but now seems like cataloguing her situation and the place in which she’s ended up (mostly against her will). she hasn’t been in this particular shop before and, as an avid skateboarder, she feels like that’s a crime.
“well damn, did i miss a sign?” hina offers in as near to an apology as she gets. she surveys the inside of the shop and can sense that it’s likely been closed for longer than just a night shift. “or do you mean, like permanently?” seems like a loss to the beachfront businesses, in her objective opinion.
checking emails is something routine aviva is used to — she’s got outlook, gmail, even fuckin’ yahoo ( which sent out of style in 2010. sorry to all the yahoo users. get with the times though ) . sent from some sort of burner account – or the username is just to ridiculous to be true — a mish-mash poster of all sorts of things, in the worst marketing campaign she’s ever seen. but it’s based in irving and while she’s made sure to never reveal her actual location online, it isn’t uncommon for people in the town to want promotion to a wider audience. so. hm. unsure. big summer bash in irving, north carolina, notable figures and plenty of surprises. that doesn’t sound as great as they want it to, she fears. turning to the other sitting beside her at cutie pies, she shows them the email. “you know anything about this?” probably not — doesn’t hurt to ask though. hasn’t seen any facebook posts, any flyers on light poles, nothing – maybe she’s been living under a rock. / @irvingstarters .
daehyun thinks the staff at cutie pies has a soft spot for him. practically always half dead on his feet, he knows he never pays adequately for the amount of black coffee and comfort food set in front of him. he feels cared for, above and beyond a regular customer-business relationship, which is probably why his tired legs always carry him there when he’s running on his absolute emptiest, insomnia and work schedule eating up all his time. he’s halfway through his first cup and feeling much more alive for it when he’s being brought into conversation. dae leans over casually, speed reading over the email. his gaze latches on two words in particular: notable figures? was that him? his following certainly made him notable but he’s not sure he’d consider himself a figure of irving origin, despite his longterm stay. maybe he should ask his agent -- an ‘appearance’ outside of the internet or a convention was not on his radar. “no... and i really hope i’m not supposed to.” dark eyes flick over the collage as a whole and he stifles a smile. “kinda gives off a graphic design is my passion energy, wouldn’t you say?”
PERHAPS FAR TOO EXTROVERTED dayana wasn’t a lady of few words - so lord have mercy on the poor person she had decided to engage in conversation with . “ look , i’m not one hundred percent saying i’d for sure lay shrek. ” a defensive stance on a statement she hadn’t been accused of, but she was passionate about proving her point. “ but the guy’s got some FUCKABLE qualities . i’m just being honest . ”& she is quite prepared to list them .
/ @irvingstarters
in their experience, dayana isn’t a stranger to making obscure, occasionally controversial statements. it’s often a source of idle entertainment if nothing else. sunny likes the sound of their own voice enough to indulge her, most times, but they aren’t so sure about this one. they sigh before bracing to take on the subject. “i’m absolutely not saying i agree with you,” sunny prefaces, the distaste written clearly on their features. “but i feel as though i have to ask: ogre shrek or human shrek? the answer will strongly impact how wrong i think you are for that.” regardless, they do not want to know but has a feeling she’s about to tell them anyways.
“oh, for sure. but, maybe not in north carolina. i don’t expect somewhere who’s biggest serial killer is called the ‘taco bell strangler’ to be …” she trailed off, realizing that giving her discourse on serial killers wasn’t something she should be offering during a first conversation. “anyway, don’t worry about it. i’m used to people looking at me with concern” she lied. well, about the attention part anyway. “i’d probably do the same thing if you were under the pier digging through sand and seaweed.” evan laughed. “i mean, yeah – i guess you’re right. thanks for drawing the silver lining for me. kind of lowers my embarassment level just a tad.”
“taco... bell?” interest piqued, he wants to ask for more info. then again, his black bean crunchwrap supreme may lose its novelty if he learns that it led to death so maybe it’s best to let the topic be. seems like something he’ll be googling later, at the very least. “can’t say i make it a habit to dig through sand -- my only stares tend to come from old ladies who are afraid of a few piercings or little kids who want to color in my tattoos. hardly the same audience.” dae offers a smile and the tip of his head in a nod. “all in a day’s work. could i have your name? in case i need to return any found keys to the hotel desk or whatnot. i’m daehyun.” polite. casual. he’s proving himself not a complete loss when it comes to ‘normal’ daytime socializations.
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felix struggles through the warm ups, and almost every few seconds finds the instructor going over to help him. although no eyes were on him as this happened he felt as if they were. the more this happened the more felix found himself disliking the class more and more. as people in the class were getting ready to do couples stretches felix remembers that this was the class he was invited to. his coworker said she wanted to make her boyfriend jealous by brining felix along. now that she wasn’t here he needed to find someone. going to a couples class felix knows everyone came with a partner. the only person standing alone in the room was his ex. the last person he wanted to get close to. not only is this awkward, would it be more awkward to leave sunny standing alone in class. as the instructor was motioning them to get together felix let out a loud groan. that didn’t stop him from approaching sunny with a mat in hand. “i guess we are doing this.” felix shrugged. “i should warn you i’m really bad at this.”
maybe you should have thought of that before following me here. it’s impressive that sunny manages not to say it aloud. honestly, though -- yoga was so much more their thing that it would ever be felix’s. athletic though their ex may be, it was always in much more of a ‘jockish’ sort of way than a lithe flexibility. “you don’t need to be good at it,” sunny sighs in exasperation (and they haven’t even started yet!), “you simply need to be... adequate. i’ll handle the rest.” in truth, from what they know about couples yoga, this was going to be a challenge for different reasons. one had to trust in one’s partner and, right now, sunny would hardly say they trust the man who broke their heart so many years ago. warmups already completed, there’s little fanfare before launching into the first pose. “i’m on top, obviously,” sunny sniffs decisively. “a first, for me.” their whole body is tense -- muscles coiled. “get on your back then.”
a laugh escaped circe’s lips as she huffed lightly over the glass of whiskey perched in her hand. “not so much the job —- solely the people.” she spoke lightly, amused by the other. the red head soon twisted to turn her heard playfully toward the other. “i’m a hostess of the night. the open arms the wind blows people into. a mender of the sorrowed figures in doorways.” she laughed once more. “officially given the title of palm motel night clerk.”
“people are horrendous,” hinata agrees even without clarification. no matter the industry nor the context, she’s sure that in a job that deals with people, they’re the worst part. feeling her companion’s attention shift solely onto her, hina turns to match, angling her sprawling perch in her bar stool to face the redhead. “mmm,” she hums with an amused smirk, particularly enjoying the theatrics. “you’re an angel then -- to people like me, anyways. vagabonds who find themselves in strange places at even stranger hours of the night. i would, of course, treat you only with kindness. sorry others don’t feel the same. they clearly don’t know your saintly status.”
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