❋ —— 「ꜱᴛᴀʏ ɢᴏʟᴅᴇɴ」

LOCATION: lollygag van TIME: thursday morning, during their shift AVAILABILITY: closed @ofxjacks​

With her cherry-red lips, heart-rimmed glasses pushed behind her ears and skirt hitched up way above uniform regulations, you would have been forgiven for thinking all was right in the world of Lacey. But cut inside of her - and you would have caught glimpse at a fevered beast, ricocheting between anxiety, guilt, rage and sorrow. Only one person was capable of drawing out such a myriad of emotions - Jack. Her twin brother. Today had to be the first time they were alone in…she couldn’t remember. At least half a decade. Wasn’t that supposed to sting?

The morning had dragged by painfully slowly. Without the usual crowd of yummy mummies and bored high school teens, customers were few and far between; leaving an uncomfortable vacuum Lacey didn’t want filled.

So, leaning against the counter, she glanced over at her twin, sighing as she broke the silence. “Feel free to leave.” Other than muted greetings, it was the first time they had spoken. “It’s pretty dead. I think I can handle whatever comes along ‘til mid afternoon.”

The deafening silence.

Jack chewed on the inside of his cheek as he desperately tried to keep his gaze anywhere other than his twin, praying for a customer or two to break the tension and offer a welcomed distraction. As Lacey appeared to do the same, a wave of heartache washed over him. Was this painfully obvious attempt at ignoring each other better than the alternative; what would start off as an argument that would quickly escalate to a screaming match? He honestly wasn't sure. They'd always had such opposite ways of communicating and expressing emotions that they could never seem to hear the other and their conscious effort to avoid scenarios exactly like this had only widened the gap between them.

Her question, which echoed as loudly as a pen drop in an empty room as it shattered the silence, startled him enough to cause him to physically jump. Widened eyes blinked at her for a moment or two in complete surprise. Not only did she offer communication, but she offered to take on his workload ( which was a proposition far more likely to come from him. )

"No thanks, the lunch rush will hit soon enough," he eventually answered with a slight shrug. Immediately after he spoke, though, his gaze darted back to the ground as he hoped she wouldn't take that response as his way of implying that he didn't trust her enough to handle it on her own ( even though that's exactly how he felt, at least a little bit. )

chester was dead.

billy would not believe otherwise – he’d never considered the owner of the lollygag to be a particularly responsible adult , & this sort of thing seemed to be a long time coming. it wasn’t that he disliked the man ; billy genuinely wished him no ill will. he was something of a legend around town , his presence constant in billy’s memories. both he & the lollygag were a monument in the history of screamer , neat figures on a small canvas.

but , there were two categories the former basketball star unconsciously sorted people into : those whose paths were golden , & those whose were made of copper.

chester belonged to the latter.

just like billy , he never had a chance. an entire life spent in screamer – a steady and mundane blueprint , the end & beginning already decided.

& he would be buried in the same dried out patch of dirt that his parents were buried in , & their parents before them , & their parents before them.

– now , whether or not his employer’s disappearance was supernatural - related … that was another matter entirely.

( supernatural adjacent , maybe )

through the dingy window beside him , billy had an excellent view of the cracked asphalt of the garbage plate’s empty parking lot. he’d stayed behind , after the rest of his coworkers & locals filtered out of the diner. the wait staff seemed content to leave him alone , so alone he stayed.

one might think that billy would have had enough of isolation , both self - imposed & happenstance. weeks in the hospital , months of recovery. he had systematically & matter - of - factly pushed nearly every one away in this time – something about penance , maybe , or more likely , shame.

but even just their voices … god , it had been like stepping in a time machine.

years ago , after winning regionals , billy & his entire team – benchwarmers included – piled into the booths of the garbage plate to celebrate. the jubilation had filled that old place with light & laughter , his friends exultant within their certainty & victory.

he wonders if he’ll ever feel that light again.

a figure hovers in his peripherals , approaching. billy tilted his face upwards to greet them. “ more speculation ? ” fawn - colored lashes soften his wary gaze. “ or did you just forget to leave a tip ? ”

genuinely, jack had no idea what he believed happened to chester. this new schedule, in his mind definitely posted by someone ( or something ) else, had everyone racking their brains. murder/mystery aside, jack would be lying if the idea of a ghost club of sorts wasn't appealing, especially when so many members had been friends he'd drifted apart from ( in one way or another. )

what did shock him, however, was who he found when he'd eventually circled back to the diner. he had a sinking suspicion he'd find at least one of the lollygag gang lingering behind, silently stewing in the theories tossed around hours prior, but billy? in the end, it'd all make sense, chester meant so much to every one of them-- but billy would've been towards the bottom of the list of coworkers jack thought he'd find.

“ i didn't mean to interrupt, ”  he starts with a sincere apologetic tone, " i guess i'm not the only one who can't seem to get this all out of my head. "  a light chuckle hums in his throat, regardless of the fact that there's nothing funny here. that's one of his major defense mechanisms; he lessens his own vulnerability by flashing warm smiles to try and keep those around him as comfortable as possible.

" may i? "  gesturing to the empty chair across the table, he waits for permission. " or i could definitely leave if you'd rather not have company? "  he effortlessly keeps his voice even, authentically asking and not throwing any semblance of condemnation in case billy really did just want to be alone.

LOCATION: garbage plate TIME: immediately after the meeting AVAILABILITY: open to all

It felt strange to go straight back to work after such riveting discourse. Almost as strange as seeing her Lollygag coworkers at her other job. Angel was used to customers sharing ghost stories with her, but none of them felt as serious as this one. Not that she was wholly convinced that what happened to Chester was supernatural — she played the mediator while the rest of the group went back and forth on theories. As usual, Angel made sure others had the chance to share their piece and kept her own cards close to her chest.

She could sense someone still lingering nearby. Angel’s back was turned to them, too busy stacking dirty plates from another table. “Did you want something to eat before you head out?” Not that she would recommend it, but it was her job. “I’ll give you the ghost hunter’s discount.”

If he was being completely honest, he didn't lag behind when the rest of his coworkers dispersed for any particular reason. Maybe he was just too caught up in his own thoughts ( which was a terrifying concept on its own, even when he wasn't worried about Chester. ) So when Angel's voice snapped him back to reality, he gladly jumped on any opportunity to pull himself out of his own mind. Choosing to blatantly ignore the fact that long gone were the days of their all-night conversations, he offered up a genuinely warm smile when she eventually turned her attention to him once more.

"The coffee here can't be possibly as bad as I remember it being," his tone obviously trying to convince himself rather than state a fact, "and I'm sure your boss wouldn't object to you taking the time off to enjoy a cup with me." Gesturing with his thumb to the otherwise empty diner, a light shrug rolled off his shoulders. "Ghost hunter's discount or not, a paying customer is a paying customer, no?"

JACK MITCHELL // fc. JORDAN FISHER

↳ twenty-two. he/him. preacher’s son.

+ attentive, compassionate, generous, merciful, sincere. - flighty, gullible, inflexible, self-righteous, workaholic.