THE LOVERS

while the water boiled, he grabbed his own glass of wine and took a sip, eyes resting on liza's face — it was the kind of moment where you just want to take a picture or, maybe, stop time for a few extra seconds. not that he could say that out loud. musa had come to terms with his attraction to his friend. he had also come to terms with the fact that nothing could ever happen between them. "it's sauce from a jar, though, i'm not that complex. but i did swing for the eight-dollar jar. balling out." he set his wine down to grab said sauce from the cupboard, "how've you been since the party? basking in your now old age? feeling wiser?" he teased. he had a birthday present to give her, but he figured he'd wait until after dinner for that.

she hides behind another sip of wine as she thinks over his question. considering her and william had found actual recording devices in their apartment and she'd decided to take a break from her photography career, she hadn't been having the best time. she decides not to mention either for the time being, not wanting to totally kill the vibe. "sooo much wiser," she says sarcastically, "definitely not exactly the same as i felt when i was still twenty-four."

it was out of pure spite, now towards a man that was dead but before it was towards a man that was alive. handling shit on his own was wren’s thing. it always had been in the long run. but he was more than willing to take a little help offered, “thanks,” he murmured, going to the jar and placing a dollar in the money jar. taking two scoops and placing it in the water he had the clothes from the dance soaking in. the rest of the laundry got tossed in the washer, he never separated just cause he wore dark colors anyway. his own homemade detergent tossed in before paying and starting.

“do you know what’s in the mix?” he questioned softly, a hand gesturing to the jar. “or is it a family secret?”

"your guess is as good as mine," she shrugs, "i don't even think he's told my dad, and they tell each other everything. it's a twin thing, probably. i'll be lucky if he leaves it in his will or whatever."

it gave william finch zero pleasure to tear apart his apartment in search of listening devices. the space had been carefully curated over the past nine months to perfectly suit his needs, and they'd just gotten to the point where he felt comfortable with the small changes that had occurred after liza moved in. better safe than sorry, though!

his room had been the first to be disassembled, his minimalistic approach in his private quarters allowing for a quick discovery. from there he'd moved onto the kitchen, which had quickly fallen into a state of disarray but had revealed yet another horrifying discovery.

now, it was onto the living room. william was in the middle of removing books from the bookshelf one by one, shaking out each as he did so, when liza walked in. and though he hated to be the bearer of bad news, it felt important to update her on what he'd found as soon as possible.

"okay, so, do you want the good news or the bad news first?" he asked, pausing his search to address her. maybe she'd found something too, so it wouldn't be as distressing?

"jesus christ," liza huffs as she tumbles out of her room, already overwhelmed from the state of it and now even more so now that she sees their disassembled apartment. this was going to take forever to clean up, even with two of them.

"bad news first, always," she says as she joins in william's search, starting with the couch, "i didn't find anything in my room."

but the people of wrensted never cared about who he actually was. not when he was a shy but bright kid nor when he was a haunted young adult. the same story but a different chapter, he supposed. wren refused to let them claim his life. make him hide. he had enough with a fucking stalker. one that was toying with him and some people he cared about. tossing his smoke in his ashtray, he slipped his mask up and finally got out of his car.

grabbing his laundry from the back, he walked into the soft spin only to be greeted by a face he hadn’t expected to see. eliza medina. the woman who didn’t deserve the shit she was being put through. for a brief moment, he just moved his mask slightly, so she saw his face and decided he didn’t want to talk to her. not because he didn’t want to. but she probably didn’t want to speak with him. he was no stranger to silence. taking his small bag of laundry, he moved to get about his business quickly.

as quietly as possible, wren made himself seem as small as he could while he went to one of the washing sinks. he was going to get the damn blood and grim out of his sweetheart dance outfit, damn it. or at least end up with raw hands for his efforts before tossing it in the dryer. using his own homemade detergent, he started scrubbing like he had a vendetta against the clothes… maybe he did…

"you've got to let them soak with a stain remover," the words are gentle and her head nods toward a big jar of the powder, labeled '50 cents a scoop' with a smaller jar next to it for change. an honor system for one of tio's concoctions, the stuff had never failed her before, "there's a soak cycle on the washer. i usually do that and then spot treat afterwards if i need to. just don't put it through the dryer until everything's out."

jordan was already inside the apartment, sitting on the couch when liza appeared. it was probably an odd way to find a guest in your home under normal circumstances. but it wasn't unusual at all when it came to jordan and this particular apartment. "i don't know about you, but i'm in desperate need of a girl's night... a little relaxation and pampering is in order." jordan had brought a backpack full of supplies. snacks, face masks, nail care items, foot masks, etc. the fact that jordan happened to be in need of a girl's night right around the same time as liza's birthday was purely coincidental, of course.

she'd managed to accumulate more clothes than she could reasonably wash in her and william's shared in-unit laundry, so she'd taken a few baskets of her own along with her. it was a slow day and she got the family discount (aka free), so why not. she had spent enough time dragging both baskets in that she was still relatively close to the buttons, so clicking the 'open door' one was easy enough. she hadn't recognized the voice who asked her to hold it, but seeing justice wasn't an unwelcome surprise.

"it was no problem," she assures, stepping closer to her laundry baskets to make room space for justice. there's a pause at their question, was she doing alright?

"yeah, i'm fine," she shrugs, "i mean... my brain is allegedly fully developed now, so that's gotta count for something right?"

THE LOVERS ⟶ ELIZA MARINA MEDINA

　　♡　　“ no , you don’t have to be sorry , ” georgia reassured .  there was something almost positive about focusing in on a small thing. a problem that could fit in their hands without spilling over. it wasn’t good that her friends were fighting. if she had the right words ( or a magic wand ) to make everything go away, she’d do it in a heartbeat. if georgia was a little less . . . georgia, maybe it wouldn’t have been such an outlandish idea that she would. wouldn’t have pushed blythe a little too close to forgiveness too fast. would’ve been able to say the right thing to reassure eliza.

she won't let herself believe that there's a correlation, people partied here all the time, didn't they? "yeah, really weird," she agrees, "guess they needed somewhere that felt freaky enough for us all to run to. and that could hold a bunch of people."

he lifts his hand, as if to reach out to comfort liza, but quickly thinks better of it, hand falling limply to his side. “she’s just upset,” anthony attempts, hoping it’s at least somewhat true, “this is such a small deal compared to,” he gestures vaguely with one hand, “everything else. you and musa are friends, great, amazing. blythe will see that, i’m sure. just let her cool off. i think we need to cool off too, yeah? want to make s’mores?”

"no, ant. i do not want to make s'mores," her voice is a little harsher than intended so she takes a deep breath. anthony isn't the one she's upset with, he's only trying to help, "even if i did feel like eating dessert right now, i'm not trusting anything here. who knows what could be in any of it?"

it may as well have been a slap to the face, the way liza recoils. this whole night has already felt like a target on her back, a sick send off that would most likely end in disaster. if amelia had been a fallen angel, perhaps she would be a real-life effigy in place of the piñata. "fuck you," she hates that the sharpness in her voice is starting to become a familiar sound, dusted off after years of swallowing her anger, "think whatever you want. i'm done."

he gives her a small smile as he jokes, "ant is great, but he's not a licensed therapist." not that he's going to therapy either at the moment, "i used to be in therapy. for a year or two as a kid. it... helped. well, i think it helped with some stuff." he tells her, about all he thinks he can admit about his childhood right now, "but i know it's not for everyone." his parents never went. they should have. but that was a battle musa would never win. "if you ever feel like it's not under control... there're options. though, i'm a medical professional, so maybe i qualify in some way. and like i said, you can always talk to me." he laughs quietly, "maybe we all need group therapy after this is all over." though, he can only picture that going disastrously. they might all kill each other in that scenario.

there's a brief flash of surprise on her face when musa says he used to be in therapy, considering he's one of the most put together people she knows. then again, isn't that what people who had their shit together did? asked for and accepted some sort of help when they needed it? "i probably could have used it as a kid," she admits, "but i think it's too late for me now. i'm way too stubborn."

after this is all over. it was an optimistic thought, considering that liza doesn't feel any closer to the end of it than she did at the beginning. "do you really think this is ever going to be over?"

"i keep water bottles in my car," she says it as an offer, head tilting in the direction of where she'd parked, "for, like, emergencies and stuff. i'd consider this that."

　　♡　　if it were any other night ( or they were any other people ) , blythe’s method of blacking out wouldn’t be the worst .  how else do you wipe an entire day from existence ? with all things considered, it wasn’t really an option for them. not with it being eliza’s party. there was no proof, but attention on georgia and william hadn’t gone too well last time tag was involved. “ she’ll come around, ” georgia reassured, despite having no evidence to back it up.

"i'll keep that in mind," she sighs, trying not to let her frustration seep into her tone, "i'm sorry i know there are... bigger things to deal with right now. like, why the hell we're all out here in the first place. are you doing alright?"