where the bloodline ends

↳INSTAGRAM: @edenhasinstanow uploaded a photo:

↳INSTAGRAM: @livvydlc uploaded a photo:

↳INSTAGRAM: @livvydlc uploaded a photo:

↳INSTAGRAM: @livvydlc uploaded a photo:

↳INSTAGRAM: @livvydlc uploaded a photo:

↳INSTAGRAM: @livvydlc uploaded a photo:

↳INSTAGRAM: @livvydlc uploaded a photo:

↳INSTAGRAM: @livvydlc uploaded a photo:

↳INSTAGRAM: @livvydlc uploaded a photo:

↳INSTAGRAM: @livvydlc uploaded a photo:

↳INSTAGRAM: @livvydlc uploaded a photo:

@livvydlc: sean carolan eat a dick that’s my pal now

Besides, she liked cycling. There was something so freaking electric about riding through the city, hair growing steadily more tangled as the wind whipped it to and fro, listening to Don Giovanni at eardrum-splitting volume. She didn’t even care that she looked kinda dorky in her helmet. And if she timed it, she could usually make it from Anna May’s house to Casa LivvyKaiFred in under twenty minutes. Glancing down at the her watchband, she smiled. Seventeen minutes was gonna be a new personal record. 

Of course, Anna May, in usual Anna May branded dramatics, had been kind of pissed at Fred for skipping out on band practice. She’d pursed her lips when Fred’s phone had started ringing, lines on her forehead appearing in a way that reminded Fred just why they’d broken up all those years ago. Fred had slipped onto the fire escape with an apologetic smile on her lips, shrugging her shoulders all devil-may-care and shit. It wasn’t like they needed Fred all the time, anyway. She was only the violin accompaniment, Anna May was the lead vocalist, the star. She liked to remind everyone of that at every given opportunity. And besides, Fred had made a pact with herself never to ignore a call from Kai or Livvy. 

She’d pressed the phone to her ear, reminding herself to keep her voice at a safe decibel for Livvy ears. (She and Kai often answered the phone to each other with an assortment of loud yells and screams, but the rules were a little different for Liv, on account of all her health stuff). It had been a short phone call - twenty six seconds, when she’d looked back at her call log - but long enough to set off alarm bells. Livvy’s voice had been strained, lulls in her sentences, like she was struggling to string anything coherent together. Fred could practically picture her at the other end of the phone, furrowing her brow, sitting in a dark room. And Fred knew Kai wasn’t home, he often came home hours later than the two of them, bag overstuffed with student’s papers about the non-existence of God, or whatever. 

It had been enough to make Fred head straight home. 

She wheeled her bike up the four flights of stairs, the tires thunk-thunking off every step as she went, her violin case banging against her back. She was sweaty and breathless, blowing damp tendrils of hair out of her face as she fumbled with the lock that always stuck. When she finally managed to get it open, the whole apartment was shrouded in darkness. 

Her mouth turned downwards as she tried to shut the door behind her as quietly as she could, cursing the rattling of her bike chain when she leaned it against the wall. She shed her jacket as she went, dropping her violin into the sagging armchair that inexplicably lived in their hallway. She felt her way along the hall in the dark, around the handle that opened up to Livvy’s room. 

Sure enough, she could make out the vague outline of her. She tiptoed over to her bed, feeling the mattress dip underneath her as she clambered in next to her, laying on her side so that they were face to face.

“Hey, Liv.” she breathed, keeping her voice low. She reached a hand out to gently push Livvy’s mass of dark hair off of her face, tucking it behind her ear. “I got your call. We finally staging that intervention for Kai?”

She smiled at her in the low light, hoping she could see it. Or at least, hear the warmth in her voice. 

“S’it your head again?”

Now, she was contemplating shouldering her way into Kai’s vacant bedroom, rummaging through his belongings and finding the aforementioned letter opener to see if she might be able to wedge it into her own skull and put herself out of her misery. Obviously, she and her roommates had actual knives in their kitchen, but she didn’t wanna ruin Kai and Fred’s future dining prospects by soiling their cutlery with her actual, literal brains. It just wasn’t very fucking courteous. 

Initially, her head had just ached a little. She figured the headache was just a result of her staying up late and binge-watching that new straight hockey show that Leona had been dick riding for, but her symptoms had gotten progressively worse throughout the day. When Kai had slipped out of their apartment that morning, the door slamming shut behind him, the loud crash had stirred her awake, sending a dull ache through her skull. Maybe half an hour later, Fred had been preparing dinner or maybe conducting a miniature orchestra made out of spoons – who the fuck could say – that had eventually triggered a tinny ringing in Livvy’s ears. The ringing had persisted throughout the day, occasionally dulling as her eardrums popped, the distant sound of their busy street becoming disturbingly muffled. On days like this, she couldn’t quite decide if she preferred the ringing or the near deafening silence. Both of them frightened her a little, and both were usually conceded with a wave of nausea rolling through her stomach. 

Absently, she’d recalled telling her best friends that she’d see them after work for a few drinks around Leona’s and her heart sank in her chest. She couldn’t think of many things worse than listening to Leona and Tanvi rattle on about whatever devastatingly beautiful man they had set their sights on – if a man could even be beautiful? She had no idea. She loved them both something chronic, but there was no way her head could endure that level of noise today. 

Pathetically, she’d tried to tap out a message to Kai, the bright screen of her phone lighting up her bedroom – she had yet to leave her room all day, despite the late hour, and her blackout curtains were working a treat – and immediately groaned as her eyes begun to sting. Wincing, she swiped away the text chain and instead thumbed her call log to phone him instead. She had barely glanced at her contact list and was surprised to find that it was Fred she’d phoned instead. Guilt had prickled beneath her skin as she recalled her other best friend had band practice today, and she’d mumbled through a useless excuse about how she’d pocket dialed her, her throat dry and voice strained, before hurriedly hanging up the call. She hadn’t wanted to bother her to begin with, but she really didn’t think she could endure the sharp sting of instruments in the background if she stayed on the line any longer. 

She wasn’t sure how long she’d lain there after getting off the phone, foregoing any attempts to contact Kai entirely. She’d slipped in and out of consciousness, only rising whenever she needed to stumble from her bedroom to their tiny bathroom, unloading the – already quite empty – contents of her stomach into the toilet bowl. By the time heard somebody slipping into her bedroom, she was three sheets to the wind and was struggling to get her eyes to focus on just one of the many Fred-like shadows that had spawned at the foot of her bed. 

“For the Sean thing or the Marcus thing?” she grumbled, words slurring and voice raspy. She opted to ignore the latter question, instead opting to downplay the situation altogether. 

As a show of normality, she pushed her elbows down into the hard mattress and tried to prop herself up into a seating position. Immediately, her entire body rebelled as she let out a low whimper of mother fucker as she slipped back down onto the bed, her head knocking clumsily against the headboard before landing on her pillow. 

“Get it over with. Kill me now. I left you my bong in my will,” she groaned, drawing her knees to her chest as she rolled over, curling into fetal position.