BYTESIZED.

INTRODUCING.... RILEY LORDE JACKSON.

Riley Jackson ( Quintessa Swindell ) had the ‘destiny’ of nothing short of greatness thrust upon them before they even were out of the womb: to their parents, they were a miracle child, and that was what they were expected to be. While their intellect left their parents feeling confident in the goals and visions they both had for young Riley, their child’s rather unruly and mischievous group of friends and controversial extra-curriculars such as joining an online hacking community, skateboarding, drugs, and pulling pranks on unsuspecting locals left them less than satisfied in their child. One thing was clear to Riley, their parents would never accept them for who they really were, and so, after the church fire that took two of their friends, they left to Atlanta for a new start. With the untimely death of their father, their time away was cut short, and now they are stuck back in Mystic, still dreaming of their escape. // @mysticroleplay // template credits: @wildrpt 

How did this happen? How did Ella Bird end up in someone else’s apartment with her makeup smudged and hairline sweaty? One thing is clear: she is not in her twenties anymore.

She’s too happy to realize that there’s an ache building in her head. At least s“Did you stir it enough?” The blonde asks as she looks over Riley’s shoulder. “No, those definitely look fucky. I think we messed up somewhere.” She says we though she isn’t certain that she was at all helpful during the mixing process. She was too busy laughing about something that she’s already forgotten. “It must be the spoon — yeah, let’s blame the spoon. Fuck that spoon!” She’s too loud, but she doesn’t apologize. Hopefully no one is trying to get any sleep.

With a fitful groan, Ella accepts her new duty and bumps her hip into Riley’s to get them out of the way. “I’ll save the day,” she promises, “or at least try to.” Jury’s out of she’ll be successful. Not that it’d matter in the end. They’re probably too drunk to care.

Riley makes an attempt to identify whatever it was that Ella was saying about stirring. “Are you sure? My arm’s pretty fucking tired, dude. — Oh shit... that sounds so pathetic, please don’t tell anyone I just said,” they practically plead, lower lip puffing out as if they are a seven year old rather than a twenty-seven year old. 

With the blame now being focused solely on the spoon rather than their bad pancake making skills, Riley gleefully plays along into Ella’s theatrics. “Yeah! Fuck that broken spoon! Who does it think it is? You, my dear spoon, have been CHOPPED.” They don’t even take a moment to consider that Matt might be woken by intermittent exclamations about a faulty pancake making spoon; they are far too enamored with their new best pal. 

“Oh my!” they proclaim with their best attempt at a Southern accent, though in their drunken state it comes out sounding more like a bad attempt at an Australian accent instead, “I do declare, I believe you are my hero!” Flopping on top of the kitchen center island, Riley nearly tips over before catching themself. “—I think you’re my new favorite person. Where have you been all my life, Ella Bird?”

Mara raised an eyebrow at they started their “boo” advice. “Why do you say that? Worried I might eat him alive?” Her eyes returned to Riley’s friend. “Don’t worry sweetheart, I don’t bite. Well, okay, I do, but you’re safe. You’re very cute but I’m into more of a Tom Hardy than a Shawn Mendes, if you get what I’m saying.” Matt looked perplexed and gave an awkward “uh, thank you?” before she brought her attention back to Riley. Her eyes then went to where they were pointing – at the town’s mayor. Mayor Holder? Seriously? “The Mayor? Isn’t he married – bad question, that hasn’t stopped me before. Why him? The age thing isn’t an issue. He’s just… well, a politician.”

Riley was well beyond considering entertaining the idea of Matt and Mara, now finding themself fixated on the idea of her and the mayor. The fact that their finger had landed on the mayor was all by chance, but yet, the promise of just how entertaining that relationship could be was better than any alternative that they could imagine. “But don’t you see?” they begin. Their eyes go from her, to the mayor, and back again, “That’s why it’s so perfect. He is the definition of a lawful evil dude. If there’s one thing in this town that could take that monster down, it’d be your love,” they reply with a batting of their eyes and dramatic wave of their free hand. 

Impulsivity was all too natural when it came to Riley. They seldom took a moment to sit down and think about consequences when it came to their day to day actions. However, as days slip by and the nature of their friendship with Layla becomes more muddied, Riley finds it difficult to not make a plan. This leads them directly to where they always seem to land when there doesn’t seem to be a clear answer for a problem in their life: music. 

Playlists and mix tapes have been made for many of their friends, some with ultra specific themes such as: ‘Music to write your The Bachelorette application to’, some crafted specifically with music that reminds them of their friend, and others made just because. The first playlist they make for Layla falls safely within the bounds of the first category, and yet the second, the second only seems to personify the murkiness of their thoughts and feelings Riley holds for Layla the longer they attempt to perfect it. 

In the day that follows their secret drop off, Riley finds themself riddled with regret over what they had done. It’s a foreign feeling, one that fills their throat with a sour, acidic taste the longer they allow themself to linger on all that could go wrong with their decision. Taking to the front of their apartment, Riley attempts to put all of their pent up emotions into learning a new trick, but the surprise visit of the one person they were trying to forget about sends their board straight up in between their legs and them flying down hard into the concrete. Ouch. 

“Think Tony’d be proud?” they offer with a cold laugh, after biting down the pain.

"Okay.... listen....” they begin, hoping he wasn’t having any post-tattoo regrets from the night prior, “I’m going to be completely honest... we could have done a lot worse. Our tattoos look fuckin’ rad, and we have a great story to tell folks when we’re two old pals in rocking chairs you know? Better yet? It’s totally a party story. Besides, you make that black cat tattoo look so bad ass, so... I guess what I’m trying to say is: what do you think?”

They had made questionable decisions before, many of which resulting in embaressment, but they had never done something this stupid when it came to an ex. Drunk and high texts was one thing, but going to your ex’s tattoo event while drunk was a new low that even they couldn’t really make an excuse for. 

When they see Carolina mere hours after having her give them a matching tattoo with Jesse, Riley was ready to run the opposite direction, but even they knew it would only make things worse. Swallowing their pride, Riley heads straight for her, pausing only when they’re a few steps away, “Hey! Um, can I talk to you for a second? About last night? I just wanted to apologize. I’m sure that wasn’t really comfortable for you, and well... I should’ve said something to Jesse or at least given you a heads up." 

when : halloween night , 12pm !

where : everly farm !

 “ i came here for the cider , and to watch OTHER people carve the pumpkins . “ hana finds herself saying , as she stares at the pumpkin before her . IT’S HUGE AND UNTOUCHED . she’s got a carving knife in her hand , and has no idea where to start  , or how to . she’s never been a pumpkin carver . honestly , she’s never even TRIED . “ is that still an option ? to drink the cider and watch YOU TWO carve the pumpkin’s instead ? i mean , are we even sure i should be holding a knife ? i once cut myself with a teaspoon . it was quite an extraordinary feat . “ she glances over to riley , then to suraj . both of them look far too happy and satisfied here , to be carving , in comparison to hana . maybe because both of them would actually be GOOD at it .  “ i saw people riding around in the tractor before ! doesn’t that look fun ? i think that looks fun . “ she really is trying to wrangle her way out of this , any way she possibly can .

An exasperated and dramatic sigh is released: one fit perfectly, Riley believes, in response to the dramatic exclamation made by Hana. In the short time that they had known the couple, these two had become something akin to family to Riley. What better way to show those feelings than, as any healthy family ( they assumed ) did, throw it right back at her? “Could you be any more dramatic? Come on! You just have to... I don’t know... close your eyes and be the knife, embody the knife, feel the knife! My Jack O’lantern looks like Freddy Krueger’s newest victim, but who cares. We can go on a cute little family tractor ride and sing Monster Mash after you finish your pumpkin. Except... ground rules now: I sit between you two, and if there’s any smoochin’, it’s you two kissin’ my cheeks. I cannot be that close to true love, or I fear I will start having dreams of my potentially finding own soulmate, and no one wants that. Pretty sure it’s the antichrist if it’s anybody.” // @dawnbroke​

So Rob had mentioned it, to some degree. Her ears were burning as she realized her mistake. But she couldn’t bring herself to confess the whole story – wouldn’t it be worse? A casual date that went nowhere was better than making them think she was a coward. But then they started talking about putting in a good word for her, and her brow furrowed. She wasn’t sure what she had wanted their reaction to be, but certainly not that – had she actually been misreading everything that like she was afraid to do? “O-oh um…” Before she could come up with any kind of answer, Riley had quickly moved on about the balcony. She stood there, even more confused than before Rob came into the conversation. Maybe Layla had been right. Maybe they just had too much to drink at the wedding. Maybe, as usual, she was being an idiot. She gave a slight nod. “Yeah, sure.”

—

It was arguably the longest two hours of her life. She had been barely paying attention to the movie, despite her eyes glued to the screen the entire time. She only kept them there because she had to fight off the urge to turn her head towards them. All she could think about was replaying that moment at the wedding over and over, morphing it into several different ways it actually went. Had she actually been wrong? Of course, it was more likely than the alternative. How foolish she was to entertain the idea that they could ever want to be more than just friends. But what made it worse was that it didn’t deter her from wanting to be around them. Same old cycle, Layla, she thought to herself. Suffering in silence. She felt guilty being relieved when the credits started to roll. She sat up to grab the plate where the cookies had once been before they were devoured from the coffee table. “I tried really hard, but, I still don’t get where the attraction to Steve Carrell’s coming from,” she teased as she stood up. Mentally she scolded herself for that silly ache going on in her chest right now. The all-to-familiar feeling of defeat. She was quick to head to the kitchen to wash the plate. Cleaning always gave her the illusion of feeling better. “Maybe if they took out everyone in the cast except for Kevin Bacon. Then I’d finally get it.”

It could have gone worse, much worse, Riley attempts to silently remind themself after the credit screen begins to roll and Layla rises from her place on the couch. They had been good. Keeping a respectful distance between themself and her, they had maintained their distance, timed their grabbing for cookies, and even catered their normal endless stream of movie commentary so it was all respectful, objective. Nothing was said and done to push the fold. Nothing was said or done to ruin their perfectly constructed line between friend and something else, not after what was revealed tonight. No, even Riley with their tendency to air on the side of impulse, knew that this was a line they could not cross.

Besides, when it all came down to it, they had to believe this was just a temporary thing. When all was to be said and done, they would eventually get over this urge to listen to their feelings, or rather ( they hoped ), hormones. They always had in the past anyways, one way or another.

And so, like they would with any other friend after a days worth of activities behind them, Riley rise from their place on the couch and follow her into the kitchen. “Dang, so I take it you’re not a Footloose fan either? Poor Kevin Bacon... he seems like an alright guy to me, even if he doesn’t seem as nice as Steve if you know what I mean. He’s aged like fine wine okay? I can’t help it,” they retort. The air that hangs between them feels stale, sucked dry of the ease that used to shroud their prior interactions. There’s not much more they can take of this, and so they, like they would with any other friend, wrap their arms around her for a brief goodbye hug accompanied by a chaste kiss on the cheek. “I, uh, should get going. Matt’ll be wondering where I am, and I’ve got work tomorrow anyways, but thank you for today, really. You’re a better friend than I could ever hope for,” they begin before adding, “You let me know about my offer alright? Thanks again for the impromptu Cookies & Carell fan club meeting, Lil Broderick. I’ll be seeing you.” With that, they turn on their heels and head for the door, only pausing to give a small wave goodbye before leaving.

                Irritation threatened to change Warren’s expression but he, for once, had the forethought to know better and made a concerted effort at controlling his face. He knew above all things, he was grateful that Riley had supported Lip during that time, and if anyone else were in his shoes, he’d be praising Riley for coming so fiercely to his brother’s defense. Those were the thoughts he held onto, whilst Riley completely laid into him. And he listened, without interruption. It wouldn’t bode well with Lip if he allowed himself to get into a full-blown argument with them, anyway.

                                                     When they were finished speaking, Warren inhaled a quick breath. “Here’s the thing. I appreciate you being there for my brother. I appreciate it more than I will ever be able to tell you, mostly because you’ve kind of made yourself into my arch-nemesis. It’s cool. I respect it.” He would level his gaze on them, then, so that the severity and seriousness of his words was properly communicated. “But wherever my relationship with Lip does or doesn’t go is completely up to him. I don’t have to make you believe anything. Just him.”

Well, that was new. They weren’t exactly expecting him to thank them of all things, let alone tell them that he appreciated them. For once, they find their anger dissipating without having the last word. All they are able to do is sit in silence, shock visible upon their face, for a moment until he begins to speak again. They match his gaze easily because they too, while they despise what Warren has done, know that when it comes down to it, it’s up to Lip to decide whether or not Warren deserves any semblance of forgiveness. “And I agree with you, truly I do. Lip is my best friend, and I trust his judgement, but I’m letting you know right now, what I said before is also true. You’ve got nothing to back up these grand statements you’ve been making. Maybe you should do a little less running over and giving ‘grandiose’ speeches unsuspecting citizens and a little more repairing of your relationship with Lip. I’ll even do you a favor, and leave you with that so you can think long and hard about how you’re going to do that. Good luck, Judas.”

                                        “It is never the size of the gift, and always the thought that counts, y’know.” Nora extended a hand out to lay it upon RIley’s forearm, then giving them an affection squeeze before she released them from her hold. As the conversation shifted to Nora’s return, she felt uneasy about discussing it with Riley, as if that would somehow muddy the ease of their friendship. Groaning inwardly, Nora steeled herself for the display of pity that was sure to come next, after she’d explained. She knew people meant well, truly, it just began to border on exhausting after awhile. And then, Nora saw her out: talking about Nathan once more. Her favorite subject. “Oh, he is adjusting wonderfully. I sometimes feel like he fits in better here than back in LA.” 

The squeeze takes them completely by surprise. Physical affection had never been something shared within the Jackson household. Their parents received loved by Riley’s obedience and good grade, and they had only ever showed it with silence ( much better than the angry yelling as the alternative ). It’s all too brief however, because before Riley is able to process it all, Nora is moving on to their question about Nathan. “I don’t blame him. What’s better than a little small town charm?” They really didn’t believe that. In fact, even now they were plotting their next departure from Mystic, but that didn’t matter. If Nathan was happy, he was happy for them. 

Nick adjusts the sunglasses hanging low on the bridge of his nose when he sees Riley coming his way. “Oh… boo!” Now he gets it. He’d been trying to figure out what the second half of the booth’s name stood for. He thought he was paying someone to scare him. He’ll get plenty of that at the haunted house later, he decides. “I’d need a boo for that to happen first, so… what the hell, I’ll have booze, please.” And judging by the mild flush in their cheeks and the very loud way they’d attracted his attention with, the alcohol must be good.

Riley is quick to send a quick glance over their should to Matt at the mention of booze, “Booze it is? Know whatcha want? Our specials are the Zombie cocktail, Bloody Mary Margarita, R.I.P. MOFO, and the Mystery Machine Shot,” they pause for a moment, allowing him time to think over his order and them the time to think through an idea. “You know... if you would like a boo, Mr. Rocketman over there is very cute, don’t you think? He’s also very single.” Nick hadn’t asked, but unsolicited love advice from someone dressed up as Lil Nas X had to be percieved as harmless, right?

A booth titled “Booze and Boos” probably was not a booth she should be going to, but she wanted to observe the shenanigans Riley and their little friend were up to this Halloween before her party later tonight. She approached the booth, taking in the decorations that had been put up. It couldn’t be denied Riley was creative. She supposed their friend there too, but she didn’t know him too well so she didn’t acknowledge him much. He was cute, but a bit too boyish for her taste. She had to be in a specific mood to be a cougar, and that wasn’t tonight. When he offered a drink, she gave a small shake of her head. “I’ll pass, but I’ll come find you when I’m in the mood for a road trip back to rehab,” she winked. She turned to Riley. “Boo advice?” she smirked. “From Lil Nas X? This I have to hear. What piece of wisdom would you like to lay on little ol’ me? Should I finally cave in to Billy Ray’s nagging to have a threesome with him and Tish?”

The comments from Mara really shouldn’t shock them, and yet, there they are gawking as she has a quick back and forth between herself and Matt. Should they say something? It seems however that once again, Mara is only sharing things in jest as her attention moves back to them. Collecting themself, Riley gives their coworker a quick once over as if to analyze what love advice she actually might need, “Okay well... let’s start with your choice in boos. Lil ole sweet cheeks Rocketman? Bound for disaster. Whew! Terrible! If you really wanna strap on your cowboy boots and get a real date to the rodeo, we’re talking someone like...” their eyes glance over the crowd from the entire fall festival, finger landing on the first person they recognize, “HIM.” Of course, it was the Mayor, but who better for their little bit they had begun for her?

« 🎃 starter for @rileyjackscn​ »

        “I should’ve known you two could pull off something like this,” Alex approaches them over at the DJ deck with a drink in hand, thanks to Matt’s handy bartending skills. He takes a moment to look around at their stand, and the ever growing crowd with sheer wonder and amazement. It was quite the turnout, he concluded, taking a sip of whatever concoction had been pulled together. Damn, it was strong. “I mean, after all the shit you’ve pulled in the past, why am I even surprised?!” A smirk grows on his features as he turns back to Riley, giving them an assured smile. “Your taste in music has always been a winner.” 

Riley is practically beaming from ear to ear upon Alex’s arrival to their booth. It’s become rather crowded as the day continues on and people catch word of the booth, but Riley feels comfortable enough with the set they have queued to leave the music running by itself, so they can talk to their friend. “My golden boy! Look at you, Mr. Kent, looking all dapper and handsome as hell. Now, I know you don’t need any boo advise from me, so tell me... you got any song requests?” An idea crosses their mind, and though they’re unsure if he’ll actually take it, the liquor in their system tells them to try anyways. “Is there a chance that Mystic might be able to see a little boogie action from you tonight? For old times sake?”

Hey, say no more. Emilia was here to have a good time, and alcohol & advice from a stranger was more than enough to get her to take a B-Line for the distant voice. However, upon seeing who it was, she couldn’t help her face from lighting up. “Oh my god!” She cheers, her tassels swinging. “Look at you!” She pointed to their costume, then gestured to her own. “It’s like we’re meant to be.” You cry on someone’s shoulder once and then you’ve imprinted on them.

Emilia trots over in her little cowboy boots, grinning up at them. “I love it, you look so cute—” She cuts herself off, realizing that the only other time they’ve spoken, Emilia was a drunken mess, and she doesn’t even remember their name. “Shit, you know what, you’re going to have to forgive me, I can’t remember your name. I was so wasted, but I’m so thankful for you dealing with me.” She laughs.

“Well... Yee-haw! Look at you!” Their eyes light up upon the recognition of the woman in front of them. “Miss Belle of the ball I do declare, you have made my little old country heart so happy today!” Their hands are clutched gently into their chest as if it’s about to bust right out of their chest before Riley’s dramatics fade slightly with a burst of laughter at her question, “Golly! You know I knew weren’t in great shape, but I didn’t think you were that bad. Might be a silly question seeing as you’re here, but did you get home okay? Oh, and it’s Riley. It’s nice to be meeting you again, cowgirl.”