* * 𝐦𝐚𝐳𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬.

"Did I strike a nerve?" She questions, a faint smile appearing on her face. Gabbie, who always seems to pick the wrong crowd for her thoughts, isn't the type to backtrack and apologize even when its the right thing to do. No, instead she keeps pushing until whatever piece of friendship is left to hang onto is completely gone. And what better time to do so than the moment a killer shows up. Less people to care about if they meet their end. "Wow, are those the whispers that go around town about me?" Her arms cross over her chest as she leans back, letting herself laugh. "It's a tough world, a girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do. But since you're wondering — no, people I haven't fucked made the list too."

"There aren't any nerves left to strike, unfortunately," Kyle says, rolling his eyes at Gabbie's expression. He didn't really care whatever her worldview or morals were, and if they were skewed in any way. He was just pointing out the obvious because it takes a hypocrite to know one. Kyle likes to say he doesn't like rich people, but she might just be one of the poorest friends or acquaintances, he's ever had. "Sure. When there aren't people dying, they like to gossip, what else can anyone do around here?" he adds with a shrug, not concerning himself with whatever people liked to do. It wasn't his fault everyone had a big and loud mouth because Kyle hardly cared for half of the shit talk anyway.

"Fuck you, Kyle - you don't know me." Is all June can manage to spit out - because Kyle speaks nothing but the truth, as much as she hates it. "Everyone wears a fucking - ankle monitor at some point in their life. Lindsay Lohan did it." Inside the gym - unexpectedly, June isn't attempting to throw around the weights and cause a massive scene, she's just stood a few feet away from the entrance, bouncing on the balls of her feet, like she's prepared to run again. "Why do the cops hate you? Is it because you've got a serial killer face?" Can't argue that the cops like her better - because even though they all know her by name, it's not like they're getting cute and cozy. They don't buy her presents for her stockings, even though June so graciously spends half of her paycheck ordering animal shit to their doorsteps every holiday. "If you can beat me on any of these fucking, machines - I'll go. I'll leave on my own fucking, accordance."

"I don't care." It's the truth, because he really doesn't. It's exhausting, everything about Juniper is exhausting and not in any remotely interesting way. He doesn't care that she's poor and feels entitled to a handout, because he's been in her position and never wanted the same. "Because I used to beat people up when I was a kid," he replies honestly, shrugging his shoulders before his expression grows annoyed, and slightly angry. "You'll leave without me doing shit. Get the fuck out while I'm still being nice, June," he says, gesturing right towards the day. Kyle isn't in the mood to deal with any of this. "Nobody in this town takes you seriously or gives you the time of day because you act like a fuckin' kid. Get a grip."

"It's funny because some of the homes are so old that sometimes they need to rewire the structures or reposition the plumbing as well, but the owners don't seem to worry about it." Issy said with a chuckle. The wealthy had no problem their money couldn't fix. "That's right." she said remembering that he was the owner of the gym. "You own the gym, right? How is that? Do you guys have special classes and trainings over there? Like zumba and spin."

He didn't really get what was funny about it, but Kyle nodded anyway. "Right, yeah." Truthfully, he didn't care very much for fancy things or extravagant homes. He'd seen a lot of them as a kid, even if he'd always been an outsider. It never really impressed him as much, because they usually had as many problems as they had money. "It's fine, pretty much runs itself besides bookkeeping. There are some classes, yeah. Self-defense, yoga, pilates, I think I've seen a Zumba class once or twice."

"Don't gaslight me. I know you do 'cause I gave you a pity follow." But whether or not he deleted it, she wasn't sure. Hardly one to keep track of any socials aside from her own. "That's actually pretty rude," an her expression mocks "I do care. I came all the way over here willing to listen to you complain about your day, week, life." Though, as she thinks about it, Jieun wonders if it's actually worth it. Kyle was her friend and there's an understanding for why he's always so ... down. But this was a good day—like it was the first day in a while where she's actually woken up in a decent mood. Did she really want to ruin it by letting his negative energy cling onto her? It takes a few moments, but she finally concedes. "And okay.. fine. I did want you to take a picture of me," with a roll of her eyes, the brunette presses her back against the booth's seat. "Are you really not going to? This is my job, Kyle. How am I suppose to make a living if I don't have anything to post? You know what it's like to be poor, so it should be in your nature to want to help. That's not a lifestyle you should wish on anyone," she continued, saying just about anything if it means she doesn't have to drive all the way home to get the one thing she'd forgotten—her tripod.

"How am I supposed to keep track of that? I haven't opened the app in forever," he says, rolling his eyes. He had better things to do, not to mention half of the people he followed anyway were probably long gone. Maybe if she was trying to convince someone else, she'd have better luck. But not only was Kyle a pessimist, but he also knew the girl in front of him well enough. "I'm not complaining, and we both know, you wouldn't want to hear it anyway," he lets out with a laugh, before rolling his eyes at her admittance, because it sounds much more realistic. That is until she continues to go on and he remembers that she is as dramatic as ever. "You have a trust fund," Kyle retorts dryly. He's pretty sure a few pictures at the local diner wouldn't break the bank. He's also very sure that Jieun couldn't even imagine what it was like to be of the lower-class. "Just give me the phone."

Nodding a thanks, Jaziel lead them towards the equipment picking up some weights to set on the bar. Satisfied with the weight, he clipped the ends to secure the bar in place and took his spot on the bench. "Alright." he tells him, fixing his powdered hands on the bar. "What's your take on that new murder?" Jaz asked before he began to lift, trying to fill the silence between the two.

Kyle's brows furrow, because the fact that the horrors aren't over isn't something he wants to talk about, let alone with Jaziel. He didn't like Mama Oh, remembering how she'd always picked on his flaws when he was younger. But she was still someone he'd known for far too many years. "We don't have to make small talk, dude," he mutters, keeping his hand hovering under the bar ready to lift it when need be. "I'm guessing you didn't know her well." Anyone who did wouldn't be all that shocked to learn that she had a target on her back.

"There you go again!" Her hands raise up in a tizzy; an exasperated, exaggerated sigh leaving her chest as if she's the one being bothered, "If I can't afford a fucking gym - I can't afford a hospital! Very classist, Kyle - for fucking shame." June 'tsks with a shake of her head. The list of reasons why she's banned barely register in her head - brows only furrowing at his reasoning, "What the fuck am I taking away? I'm not out here lifting machines out of the fucking - gym, I'm not taking weights or fucking, sweat soaked rags home with me." Her eyes flicker between him and the doors of the gym, contemplating pros and cons of what she's about to do before huffing out another sigh. "Fine - fucking, whatever." With one last glance - June crouches down and pulls loose the laces on Kyle's shoes before booking it towards the gym's doors.

"I don't care what you can and can't afford, June. With the amount of excuses you make, maybe your best bet is sticking with the car job and getting your exercise in through manual labor." She's like an annoying little fly that won't leave, or that can't be swatted away. Kyle grows more exasperated. "It's my gym, if I feel like banning you, I will. Your track record is shit, so that might as well be a good enough reason right there. Weren't you rocking a fuckin' ankle monitor or something?" Maybe her parole officer should've done him a favor and kept it restricted to her home. Watching her run off, he sighs again, rolling his eyes and walking back inside despite the untied shoelaces. "Get out, June. I'll call the cops, and even if they hate us both, they still like me better."

CLOSED — @kyleyangs

"I don't know, they're both pretty fuckin' gross." He's pretending this entire thing isn't happening for a third time. He doesn't comment further on any of what Gabbie is saying, because even if he hadn't been on the best terms with the late Oh, Charlotte was his best friend. "Are all the exceptions just dudes you screw?" Kyle asks, rolling his eyes. At least he had an excuse, and had grown up with rich friends. He didn't go out of his way to head over to Stoughton Estates as an adult and be friendly.

Location: Trident Fitness Closed Starter: @kyleyangs

He'd seen Jaziel at the gym a few times, and while Kyle didn't really care for the guy, he wasn't going to make a fuss about something that didn't matter. Every time they'd spoken, a certain woman tended to come up, and he had no interest in having that happen again. So he remains cordial, nodding his head to the other's request. "Sure," he responds, making his way behind the bench press. "Let me know when you're ready."