wouldn't it be nice

❛ c'mon. i got a wrapper. ❜ it's easy to lead them both away from what could only be described as a macabre sea. everywhere you were to look, you'd see patches of soil being overtaken by a pack of black shoes, silent weeps, breathy wails. no one is a judge to grief, especially not him. were the people performing or being genuine, he couldn't not tell even when his opinion was so easily handed — hanging from his sleeve to whoever might graze it. still, even to him, the scene was getting unbearable. overtaken by an emotion that would not be welcomed in the midst of the remaining relatives, he needs a break. as much as her, now, that's to be debated. for vastly different reasons, definitely. nut does it really matter when the end goal is common ? burak doesn't think so.

Iris placed the blunt between her lips, then leaned her head toward Burak for him to light it up. She gently sucked in a little air to help with the process, then finally took a real hit. Inhale, exhale... she watched the smoke travel up through the branches above their heads. Hard-boiled Fred. She made a face, coughed lightly into her elbow, then held the joint out to him to take a turn. Part of her was a little embarrassed, surprisingly. Loud, yappy coworker—that was the charm, wasn't it? Not so much fun when she was sullen and tense. Blowing an errant lock of hair out of her face, she crossed her arms and watched him closely. Not unkindly, she continued, "So what kind of guy brings weed to a funeral, you think?" And if they were going to be fair: what kind of girl hoped he did. She smiled something infinitesimal. "Reprobate behavior."

time was ticking and marianne knew that iris's offer should have been simple enough to accept.

and yet she couldn't help her hesitation.

back when they had been friends, mari wouldn't have thought twice about asking iris to do something for her, and she would have gladly offered a favor for the future. but it had been years and on some level mari had concerns about what a favor for iris could entail.

not that she thought iris would ask for anything bad, of course. she may have no longer been privy to the details of iris's life, but deep down she did still know her. mari was confident that iris would ask for something harmless.

no, it was another problem altogether.

they were living in ignorant semi-bliss at that point, with no major reminders forcing them to acknowledge their history. there wasn't time for nostalgia to fester and too late apologies to follow when their exchanges were as brief as a hey, the manager told me that we need to remember to refill the salt shakers before we leave tonight or a your table's order's ready.

to have a favor of any kind looming over them gave their delicate balance a better chance of shattering. gave marianne more opportunity to let iris down yet again. even the very offer, given in a new tone, was already a gentle breeze ruffling the components of the house of cards that was their current reality. and mari wasn't yet ready to watch that structure come crashing down, forcing her to confront all of the mistakes she'd made in the past.

"deal," she finally offered, maybe a beat too late. "as long as you don't need a million dollars down the line. unfortunately i really don't think that i can turn the ten i'm saving on this into quite that much."

maybe it wouldn't be so bad to confront all of the terrible things she'd ever done while she was still spiraling?

attempting to perk up, she also offered a quick thought iris's way before the girl could go off to do her job. "if it turns out that him being intolerable is simply a personality trait and it wasn't a little something just for me, i am open to tag teaming."

When Mari offered up potential tag-teaming, Iris briefly felt bad for turning the entire interaction into a transaction, just fully opportunistically twisting it into a selfish endeavor. But when needs must—etc etc. She'd let Mari get away with the weird, unexplained distance between them for long enough; she'd been given a little reprieve from the poking. They were due for a little revisit to the topic, Iris thought.

She shot the girl a quick thumbs up, though she doubted she'd take her up on the offers, and headed to the man's table. After all, that'd be giving away a bit of her power, wouldn't it? But all it took was a total of 4 interactions with the customer for Iris to fully realize why Mari was ready to give up the tip. A little harried between the dying lunch rush and the guy's weird, sort-of-definitely sexist comments, Iris was pink-cheeked and pulling her hair into a ponytail when she walked up to Mari again.

"So first I went up and was like, oh hi! How are you?" she started, not providing context. "And he just very monotone-ly went, 'Coffee, please.'" She finished tying off the ponytail and dropped her hands, fanning them out as she painted the picture. "So I jokingly went, 'Hi, Coffee-Please, how are you today?' Like, ha-ha. Because—hello, I'm a human being? Say hi back?" She rolled her eyes. "He really wasn't a fan. He told me I was rude and unprofessional. Just... right out of the gate."

The little dish on the diner counter that was usually filled with coffee creamers was empty, so she grabbed it to restock. "And that was just the beginning."

Like monks but without the rigmarole of a sacramental ceremony. Iris should consider contributing to an upcoming edition of a dictionary. Did they still even come out with dictionaries? He wondered. With the internet around, they seemed pointless. He didn't quite know how to respond to 'eight of them live at the school', so he just nodded. Polite. For information he didn't care to know, he was positive he also wouldn't forget it.

"Just like the way it looks," Levi answered. If he were in the mood to divulge, he'd tell her that he found colors distracting. He liked that it was easier to appreciate the entire photo without specific colors drawing your eye somewhere. But he wasn't in the mood to divulge. So Iris would just have go without it. However would she survive not knowing a random opinion from some guy she didn't really know.

It was a bit impressive how quickly Levi did away with Iris's preconceived notion that artists were always passionate and eager to talk about their work. She learned quite swiftly that some artists—not naming names, but maybe ones with names rhyming with Shmee-vi, she thought—instead preferred to reveal the absolute minimum amount of information possible.

Any other day, she might've continued to poke at that. Not meanly, but certainly not delicately. But on that day, she realized she'd used basically all her brain power on bird calls and counting change. Just like the way it looks. Sure, why not, she'd take it. She pressed the Follow button, then tucked her phone back into her pocket.

Iris adjusted the tote bag over her shoulder again when he assured her he'd delete the photo. She rolled her eyes a little, then quickly answered, sounding a little amused at his expense, "Okay." She crossed her arms as a breeze blew by. "And you're welcome..." She let out a good-humored huff of an exhale before she continued, feeling a little robotic in her okay's and you're welcome's, which was only worsened with her: "And thanks." She hoped things would be monumentally less weird and sucky soon, but didn't count on it. "For that, I won't say his legal name, but—" She nodded toward his camera. "I look forward to seeing your future photos of You-Know-Who."

he's got plenty of one hand to count the people he's not annoyed to see. with the whole town being here, it's kind of a feat to even be on that shortlist. he's not sure if that makes iris lucky or not, but the b - line towards one of the persons he showed up for is happening nonetheless. friends might be a loose term, yet coworkers seems too restrictive. the bottom line is that, even if he didn't care for the willows when they were alive ( even less dead ) he knew it wasn't the case for iris. show of support isn't shown traditionally, merely a gentle gaze as he approaches her. ❛ there's a nice spot behind that oak, away from the crowd. if you want a break. ❜ he's stolen his fair share of her pen, offering a joint from his personal stash is the least of things.

To say that Iris was ill-equipped for a 6-person funeral would be an understatement. She was ill-equipped for anything that required her to be confronted with her emotions for longer than an hour. Maybe some people could zone out and successfully dissociate their way through, but every time her eyes landed on a floating speck of dust and her brain wandered out of self-preservation, someone in the church would cough or sneeze or sob and bring it right back into her body. And then she'd feel so guilty, or maybe just guiltier. Between that, the heat of a fully-packed church, and the eyes of Jesus staring down at her in disappointment, she was afraid she'd start sweating through her $40 dress from Nordstrom Rack. In short, she was on edge.

"It's…" Levi began, briefly considering lying until he realized Iris would look up the username once she got it since her phone was already out. "Levi takes photos. All one word." He pressed his lips together, bracing himself for judgment when she inevitably pulled up his profile. "I'm not," he added, the response slipping out a moment later. He only had a little over 400 followers, but it was 400 more than he ever thought he'd have.

She distracted herself from the sad reality of little old Brothers keeling over with Levi's Instagram page. He came up quick — already followed by Caleb. She resisted the temptation of clicking on his username just because it popped up and instead scrolled through Levi's posts. When she came to one that struck her, she clicked it and then flipped through the carousel of images. "I like the monochromatic theme you've got going on," she said. "Very cool, very Ansel Adams." Iris didn't actually feel a particular way about that choice especially, but she slipped him another modest smile half in hopes that it might make up for rejecting his earlier offer. "Any specific reason for it?"

While Levi didn't think the photo was anything special, he had to admit it still stung a little to hear Iris say 'no'. He tried not to take it to heart; it's not like her not wanting it made it a bad photo. It was just a little bit confusing if anything because she'd said she liked it. He listened to her stumble over her words a little, remaining patient in the hope that her explanation would eventually make sense.

It did. Taking into account what's befallen their town recently, Levi wished he'd known better. After all, who would want to immortalize a weird day? Hell, a weird week. Most people were just trying to cope and move forward. Something he was sure was more difficult for some than others. "That's alright," he assured her. "I don't want to make a weird day weirder by giving you a photo of you having a weird day." He frowned a little, confusing himself by saying the word 'weird' so much.

"I'll probably delete it. I don't you to feel uncomfortable about me having it if you don't have a copy too." Plus, he took the picture without her consent. It'd be creepy if he kept it. "No, I, uh... I usually I pick a handful I like from the bunch and make a little post for Instagram." A carousel of 10 photos, with the date as the caption. "Then I transfer everything into a thumb drive, mark it with the date and toss into a pile to forget about. I don't really print them unless I'm giving it to someone as a gift or we need art on the wall at the apartment or something"

Iris fidgeted again with her sunglasses, pulling them from the top of her head to hold in her hands. She did realize, after a moment, that her answer might've been a bit rude—that maybe she should've just said yes, received the photo, and just never looked at it. That might've been one of those things people do just to keep things from getting awkward, which was a conclusion she came to just as it sort of teetered. Iris was always the last person to realize it. The corner of her mouth pulled to the side, a little anxiously, and only softened when Levi frowned to himself. Weird weirder weird. "Say that five times fast," she said, exhaling a silent sight of relief when he seemed to take it in stride.

She shrugged, not surprised he would delete it but generally uncaring if he didn't. "I'm not uncomfortable," she said honestly. Her anxieties liked to rear their head for the more unserious, stupid moments in life. And if he somehow ended up being a creep, then it might be a good story to tell her friends. If he wasn't, then, maybe she'd look at the photo again someday and remember this week without feeling like her stomach would drop. When he mentioned an Instagram account, Iris perked up. "Yeah?" She pulled her phone out of her back pocket. "What's your username? I want to follow." It was a quick thing to unlock her phone, and once she was done she looked at him expectantly. "I feel like I'm about to find out you've secretly been internet-famous this entire time."

"Might just be his own personal hell," Levi agreed. While his voice didn't carry a ton of enthusiasm, that didn't mean he didn't feel any. It was just how he sounded — being expressive didn't come easily to him. Beneath his subdued demeanor however, he promised he actually appreciated the unconventional topic of conversation. He didn't expect to be taken for a ride when he approached her, but he didn't mind it. He didn't mind most things.

"Oh, it's the worst," Levi played along. Though all things considered, he wasn't doing too bad on the survival front. Considering the fate of the Willows, he'd even go as far as to say he was doing pretty good. Maybe even great. As the thought of the Willows crossed his mind, he wondered how Iris was coping with the situation, given her friendship with June. "...Sure," he found himself saying, despite his distaste for the term 'hit you up'. "I like to get compensated in obscure bird noises so you might want to brush up on your calls before you reach out to me."

A slight frown creased his brow when Iris moved the camera out of his reach, momentarily puzzled until she mentioned the cat. Something of a smile crept on his face then before he took the camera back from her.

Taking a moment to consider her question, Levi paused. No one had ever asked him that before. "I think I'm gonna have to give the cop out answer and say all of them are," he revealed after a moment. "Can't hurt their feelings, you know. They're not gonna develop right." Of course it wasn't true. But revealing his favorite photo from the collection he had on there now felt too personal.

"Do you want the photo I took?"

"Boring," she said low and blandly, though admittedly charmed by the pun. God forgive her, but she did love them. "How's this, who's the better model: me or our Kittcent van Gogh?" she asked, once again referencing the half-eared cat. She did often see him on her walks. A cat allergy prevented her from getting too close, but she did like pbbst-pbbst-pbssting her way into getting his attention and then tossing him a small piece of her snack—if it was cat-friendly, according to Google. But her question really meant another thing: do you prefer human subjects or animals?

Iris didn't know why his query surprised her; it was the same one he led with. But now that she'd seen it—the knit between her brows, the shadows under her eyes, the way her fingers picked at her thumbnail—the question felt different. She scratched idly at the side of her nose, then crossed her arms. "Um..." she started. "No?" She squinted her eyes, aggrieved with her own answer. "I mean, no thanks. Or—I don't know. Not today." Maybe that was better. "I like it, it's great. You clearly know what you're doing and you're good at it." Yeesh. She had already said she liked it. "But it's been a weird day."

More like a bad day, a bad few days, and it was written all over her face in black and white—or it was in her memory now that she didn't have the screen right in front of her. As her surprise with Levi's talent waned, the picture in her mind's eye morphed into something cartoonishly depressing. Like a Frances McDormand movie. Maybe a few weeks down the line she'd be okay with it finding its way into her inbox. "What're you going to do with it otherwise?" she asked, quickly redirecting. "Or really any of those photos. Do you print all of them?"

"You know, for someone quick to call another person a nerd who's on bird subreddits, you seem to know a lot about bird subreddits," he pointed out. Despite the accusation, Levi found himself feeling somewhat amused by Iris ramblings. "That's one way to find someone to date," was all he had to comment. She was a single bird feeder, I was a single birdfeeder - it was meant to be, he mused in his own head.

One of his eyebrows arched slightly when he finally noticed Iris was going through more of his photos. She got comfortable quick, huh? Though after the initial shock of it, Levi found he didn't actually mind. It's not like she'd find anything scandalous. Just buildings, people, stray animals.

"The need to survive, mostly," he answered, sardonic tilt to his mouth. "Yeah, photos are pretty, but they don't pay the bills." Besides, it's not like Levi hated what he did for a living. He liked both. Thankfully, one of two of his hobbies paid off.

"And he was all, can you hear that?" She poorly mimicked a random bird call, cupping one hand around her mouth. "Quail. And that—?" She did another, equally poor bird call, then dropped her hand. "Red-tailed hawk. It was actually crazy impressive." She paused a second. "I just convinced myself that birders-for-birders is definitely a thing. Can you imagine a guy like that trying to date someone who truly did not give a shit about it?"

She kept clicking through the pictures, admiring some and amused by others. Iris sighed. "Survival's really inconvenient, isn't it?" she joked. Iris didn't have a hobby like Levi's, one that would be risky to place a life bet on. She wasn't very artsy either, despite having taken art all 4 years of high school. Her degree was a useful and oftentimes lucrative one. Once she finished her Master's, she wouldn't need a second job to help make ends meet. That kind of safety net was nice to think about when the student loan payments kicked in. "But... say I need a photographer. Could I hit you up?"

When he reached a hand out for the camera, she instinctually turned away a fraction — leaning just out of his reach. "You can't tell me you've got the cat with half an ear on film here and then try to take the camera away," she said admonishingly, then finally rectified her earlier movement. Belatedly, she handed the camera back over. "Which photo on that's your favorite?"

Sometimes it was just the colors, the way a shadow fell, the hook of the subject's nose... It was an innate, wordless feeling she got, like when a joke was funny to you and maybe not to someone else. There didn't seem to be any real logical reason for it. And there she was in black-and-white, just standing across the road. She liked it, her obvious dark circles and all. Maybe it was her ego, maybe Levi just had that Eye everyone talked about. It was a feeling.

Iris smiled down at her own face. "It's good," she started, glancing back at Levi. "Duh." Without asking permission, she pressed the left-pointing arrow that would direct her to the other photos he'd taken that day. "I've seen you around with this camera before, but I didn't know it was like, an actual thing you did. I thought maybe you were like one of those nerds who's on bird subreddits."

She didn't actually think birders were total geeks nor did she mean to imply that Levi was one, but it's where the current train of thought took her. Birders took pictures of birds and Levi had a camera, ergo there was a similarity. Besides, her first impulse was to say bird pervs, so she knew how to edit herself a little. "Like, r-slash-Orinthology. Can You Identify This Bird?" She pressed her tongue against the back of her teeth for a second, amused by her own ruminations. "Looking For Single Birders In Your Native Habitat?"

The second photo she clicked on also caught her attention, keeping a small smile on her face. "What the hell, man," she continued quietly, thrilled by this discovery about him. "What gives? Why isn't this your full-time gig?"

Look out for one another. She could do that. She wanted to do that. Iris could keep selfish, kneejerk thoughts at bay — the demands, the questions. As far as she knew, no rule book guided you in grief, and that could also then guide you into being able to pinpoint when the grace period ended and you could then maybe, possibly return to those selfish, kneejerk thoughts. It was all vibes. Very murky, very weird, very unsatisfying vibes. And she felt the reminder of why they sat there hang heavily over her, a dark cloud ready to tear open and drown them. She pressed her lips together, afraid of what she'd say even when nothing was at the ready on the tip of her tongue.

there's an immediate hesitance. of course, this entire conversation had been littered with them. but this one, unlike the others, held an air of hope with it. his eyes met her's for a moment, before he looked away to silently do what she asked. carefully he shifted himself over, shrinking the space between them until he was beside her.

in this moment, he had no idea what that would be. he supposed the truth, but the truth wouldn't fix things. it wouldn't make june's death easier. his eyes had drifted from her face while he thought, watching where her hand wiped against her leg. less than two weeks ago he wouldn't have hesitated to touch that hand in an attempt to offer comfort. but now they were sat as far apart as they could on this couch. " sorry. " he said, not looking back up just yet, instead moving to his own feet. and he can feel the word's uselessness, but he was. he was sorry. " i didn't mean to– " he stopped that sentence, crease in his brow as he felt discomfort at his own words. that overwhelming feel to try and find the right thing to say, and knowing that wasn't it. " sorry. "

Iris cringed internally when he apologized — at her actions, the thing that made him say sorry twice. She felt awful, guilty for making him say it. It was like all her emotions were that snake eating its own tail, an endless loop of sad-angry-guilty-sad-angry-guilty. She still wanted to point her finger at what he had done; she didn't want to make him sadder than he already was; and on and on and on. She closed her eyes, breathing as steadily as she could manage as she counted down from 30 in her head.

it was easy to stand in front of her then and think himself unworthy, especially given the history and then one glimpse at her to start. and still, the pang of his heart convinced him to give it a try..

"you should text me now." his eyes continued to look into hers, confident. fuck, how he wanted to tick that mouth to a smirk. maybe he was just a glutton for attention. "unless i'm going to get you in trouble. just... checking in."

"All of my takes are incredibly on point, actually. Who else can make sure my shitbox stays on the road? You know all her ins and outs. She'd be slow to warm up to someone else," Iris said, then tapped at her own temple with the end of her pen. "See? That's high value."

She tucked the pen behind her ear. "But I'll get you your coffee." She slipped the notepad back into her apron. Coffee with creamer was an easy order to remember, and something she didn't have to pass along to the kitchen.

Levi was craving some sense of normalcy after the past couple of days around town. With a day off from work, he decided to stroll around, capture anything interesting that caught his eye. The passing of the Willows had left unique expressions on people's faces — some burdened with sadness, others seemed lost in thought. One way or another, it was evident something was on their minds.

While waiting to cross a road, Levi recognized a face on the opposite side. Iris. He always thought she had an interesting look about her. He wondered if it translated well in photographs. Raising his camera, he adjusted the lens's zoom right before he snapped a picture and made his way to the other side of the road.

"Hey," he greeted, acknowledging Iris, someone he didn't know too well but was connected enough through his roommate and his... um, ex? "Not to make things weird, but I just took your picture." Levi, aware of the awkwardness, continued, "I can delete it, but if you want it, I can send it to you before I do." Talking to people wasn't his forte. It was worse when they became the focal point of his photographs. Unfortunately, moments with people often yielded some of the most powerful captures so he had to suffer through the agony.

"Let me check this out. That's a serious camera." She fussed a little with herself, adjusting the strap of her tote bag and the sunglasses she had perched on top of her head. She'd been on one of her daily walks, which had grown longer and longer over the past few days. Aimless, mindless, meandering... Levi caught her well over an hour into it, and only a couple hours after her shift at the diner. She only just realized her feet were throbbing a little from all that standing and walking. Iris had been moving nonstop since 5 AM. "My hair's so frizzy today..." she trailed off absently, half-expecting to look like an ungroomed pomeranian in the photograph.

when she continued, initially he thought she was talking about the willows death. the fact they were gone. the fact that june was. but then she continued, and it was another hit to the back of the head. more effective this time. his face crinkled in confusion and hurt for a moment, eyes drawn back to iris. " that's a shitty fucking question, iris. " she was hurting, he knew that. he knew it and he didn't want to make it worse. and he could handle her being mad at him, but he didn't think he could handle being ripped open and examined from the inside out. " is that what we need to talk about? what you want to? "

It was a shitty fucking question, but Iris couldn't take it back now. Instead, she burned up inside; embarrassed at having asked it, embarrassed at being reprimanded for it. A harsh part of her wanted to say, it was a shitty thing for you to do. The kinder part wanted to say, I'm sorry. Iris felt her face go pink, her jaw set as she looked pointedly away from him. She stared at the walls without really seeing them, her heartbeat drumming in her ears. Did they need to talk about it? Did she want to talk about it? The answer to both questions to her was an unequivocal yes. But she also understood the additional context: did they need to talk about it now? Did she want to talk about it now?

closed starter for @irismitchells location: the sunrise diner

if someone had asked marianne at age eighteen if she ever thought she'd be back in willow's edge, waitressing at the sunrise diner for slightly above minimum wage, she would have laughed in their face. or at least scowled in their general direction.

and yet.

life rarely went the way one would hope, and at twenty-six years old she was offering practiced smiles and inquiring about fry versus onion ring preferences, drafting resignation letters in her mind any time someone complained to her about their order being wrong (it never was).

that day was just like any other since she'd started her forty hours a week, the customers mostly paying her no attention except for when they needed a refill of coffee or water.

until her worst enemy walked in and sat in her section.

was it appropriate to write your resignation letter on the order pad? would an email suffice? because she was willing to do what she had to do to pay the bills, but mari had every intention of doing so with her dignity intact. and if she ever had to speak to the man giving her an annoying little wave again, she was pretty sure she'd do something that would result in an immediate firing.

"last time he was here he waved a five dollar bill at me, hinting that it would be my tip the whole two hours he sat in a booth, and then he left me nothing because i didn't smile enough," mari confided in the waitress nearest her then, only realizing that it was iris after she'd already spoken up.

her voice only faltered for a moment, however. marianne had decided to take the act like she's a stranger approach to working with iris months ago, and it had worked in their favor thus far. their shared history occasionally made things awkward and mari kept finding herself almost letting apology after apology spill from her lips, but it was by no means a hostile work environment.

except at that very moment. due to the truly venomous vibes she was sending towards mr. smile more.

"if i give you the five that he neglected to give me, will you take his table?" she finally asked, her words interrupted only by the man calling out "waitress!" in order to get her attention.

"did i say five? i meant ten. ten dollars."

When they were on shift together, things were cordial. Professional. Whatever. Iris had grown accustomed to yapping with her coworkers when time permitted, but she gave up on that with Mari weeks ago at that point. So she was surprised when Mari addressed her out of the blue. It was about work, of course, but outside of their usual job-related script. Her brow raised as she looked toward the man Mari referred to, then snorted a bit when she took in his appearance. Bald-headed and narcissistic. Pick a struggle, she thought. Iris had been in the middle of unraveling a piece of spearmint gum, then finally crumpled the wrapper in one hand as she popped the gum into her mouth. It helped with the nausea of being around the smell of hot grease all day.

She tossed the wrapper into the nearby trashcan behind the diner's counter. "Keep the ten bucks," she started, already shifting to head toward the obnoxious man's table. "You can just owe me a favor instead." It was disguised as a little playful, a little lighthearted, but it was also kind of pointed. It made her stomach anxiously tighten a bit to get pointed, but she also couldn't help it. Still a bit stung, still a bit bitter. She shot Mari a passable smile. "Deal?"