𝐬𝐚𝐥𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐚.

[ LORELEI ’RORY’ HOLT. 30. CISFEMALE. SHE/HER] is here! They’ve lived in Silver Lake for [ 30 YEARS ] and are originally from [ SILVER LAKE ]. They are an [ EMPLOYEE AT READY PLAYER ONE ] and in their downtime love [ READING BOOKS IN FRENCH ] and [ WRITING POEMS SHE’LL NEVER SHOW ANYONE ]. They look a lot like [ PHOEBE TONKIN ] and live [ ON REDCLIFF ST ]. 

“You’re to be okay. ” Ophelia says softly, titling her head to the side while watching the brunette from her seat. She wants to tell Rory how it’s not worth it, being like this over a guy, but at the same time the blonde knows how it feels. It’s not the best situation to be in. “Honestly… I love Brando. Like seriously, the guy’s great, but he’s still a guy. Doesn’t mean he wouldn’t freak out if you tried to have a serious conversation with him.” the blonde explains, pressing her lips together. “Just talk to him. Give him a little time and talk to him. The Brando I know is not a heartless piece of shit. So, if you want my opinion, you should tell him how you feel and see if there’s a chance between you two. If not.. maybe that’s for the best. Either way, you’ll be doing the right thing for yourself.” 

-

Rory managed a smile at Phe’s reassurance, somehow believing the words since they came from her mouth. She wouldn’t lie to her, wouldn’t sugarcoat things. Staying away from romantic relationships for such a long time had spared her some heartbreak, but also hadn’t prepared her to deal with this kind of disappointment. She never thought she’d be the type to get so fucking upset over a man, but here she was. “You’re right, obviously. I know that. I’ll just give it time. Maybe apologize about what I said and let him do whatever he wants with that.” It was the mature thing to do, no matter how hard. She missed him. “I think we both know I don’t know what’s best for me.”

“He’s not stupid by any means,” Bowie agrees, unable to shake the high regard he held Brando in even in the face of Rory’s hurt – and the fact she had even admitted that made it clear to him that it ran deep. Feelings were never easy to discuss, it didn’t come second nature to most people he knew and his recollections of her reminded him of how she could be downright reluctant to it. 

( With that in mind and as delicately as he can, he probes. ) 

“If you asked him what you guys were then you obviously wanted to be something or else you wouldn’t feel so hard done by, before you two got into or whatever, did you actually say that you wanted to be with him or whatever? Or did you leave that call all up to him? Cause my guy gets overwhelmed pretty easy, being direct helps.” 

It had sure helped Bowie when it came down to the wire with Orla, twelve years of being up in the air and he had managed to finally ground them with a simple admission: I want to be with you. I want to give this a real shot.

-

“Yeah, well, he can’t read the room obviously. I mean, correct me if I’m wrong, but it’s pretty obvious when I like someone. My personality changes drastically,” she pointed out, knowing Bowie could relate. He was one of the few people she tolerated back in high school. He still was. “Fine, maybe I did want us to be something. I had fun with him. I liked that he did my hair in the morning and let me read him shitty poetry. He never once seemed embarrassed by me around other people. I don’t remember exactly what I said. I think it was more something along the lines of... so, what are we doing here. You know.” 

Maybe being more honest might’ve helped, but it was too late for honesty now. Especially after the way she snapped at him afterwards.

His eyes had remained on his phone, using it primarily as a distraction— not wanting to pay much mind to where she was walking to. If it wasn’t for her calling at him again, Brandon wouldn’t have glanced up. But here he was, still standing there, and listening to her final parting words. She was trying, and he could see that— Bowie did admit that she had trouble apologizing. So if anything, there was more of a shock to it all. However, in the state which he was currently in, it wasn’t an apology he could accept. “Yeah, well,” Brandon paused for a long moment, eyes falling and only peeking in her direction for the quickest moments; head nodding, lips pursed. His goal here wasn’t to be cold, but just to be honest. 

“It was still said, and maybe there was some truth to it. I dunno. Have a good one, Ror.” With a final nodding salute, Brandon decided to collect his basket and just venture off down the aisle.

     Over the years of seeking out other writers, Joseph had learned about the many kinds there were out there. Some were kind and quiet about the worlds they built. Others were neurotic and aggressive about their passion. Whatever the type, he young man did his best to get past barriers and to the core of each one. He liked to think that there was something worth knowing in all of them. 

The passive aggressive response and immediate slammed-shut notebook was enough to tell him what kind of writer he had just approached. Never one to be intimidated or off-put by bitterness, Joseph simply chuckled and turned slightly to look back at the large and blocky games before returning his gaze back to her. “Maybe,” Joseph’s eyes flickered down to the now covered words, curious to read what she was hiding. “But shouldn’t you be working instead of writing?” His retort was clearly lighthearted–playful even–so that he could offer a meaningless challenge. “If you share your scribbles, I won’t tell.” Then he picked out the pocket-sized notebook he kept on him at all times from his back pocket and offered, “I’ll even go first, if you want?”

-

Rory couldn’t remember the last time she’d let anyone look at her writing. Maybe Bowie, as a teen, but even then... It was hard to believe this random guy in RPO thought he could get her to share her inner thoughts with him. No matter what he did for a leaving. “Maybe? That’s usually why people come into an arcade. I’m assuming you didn’t see me through the window and think to yourself ‘oh, let met harass the mean looking woman at the counter’.”

He had a point, she probably should be working, but Rory somehow managed to avoid most of the menial tasks at RPO by making the younger, newer employees do it for her. It was a talent, she thought. “I am working. I’m sitting behind my counter and selling coins to people who need them.” She scoffed as he threatened to tell on her (as if Bowie didn’t know). “Blackmail now? You’re really not winning any points here.” She had to admit she felt slightly curious when he pulled out a notebook of his own, her eyes flickering down momentarily to look at it. She met very few writers, mostly because she avoided them. Blame it on her crippling fear of judgement. “Fine. I’m bored and always down for a laugh.”

The awkwardness that continued to linger was enough to increase the desire of dipping. Brandon just stood there, looking at her; but his vision constantly ended up moving around. Holding eye contact for this long of a moment ( even on a regular occasion), just wasn’t ideal. It made it all feel worse, honestly. As if he was trapped here, being forced into civilities. “Yeah…” And clearly his goal wasn’t to be rude, but Brandon had to look at his phone— he needed some sort of relief from whatever the hell this mess of a situation was. “Uh,” He paused again, words almost being rattled by the glottal tone to his voice, “I, uh— I gotta— Sorry, I gotta get going soon. Barkley’s got a vet appointment, so—” A lie. It was a white lie, in a way. But still a lie. Brandon just… really didn’t want to be here right now. He wanted to gather up the rest of his things, and go. That was it. “Uh, yeah—” He glanced at his phone once more, feigning some sort of importance towards the time being displayed.

-

She hadn’t expected him to stick around for very long and, honestly, was a bit surprised she’d gotten small talk out of him at all. From what she gathered from Phe and Bowie, without them going into details, her parting words to Brandon had cut deeper than she had intended, so she guessed he was possibly a bit upset with her. Much like she was with him. “Yeah, go ahead. I hope Barkley’s okay,” she said with a shrug, clutching the handle of her basket a little too hard. She turned away from him, ready to walk away, but stopped herself after just one step. Apologies weren’t her things. She was stubborn and, even now, believed she was rarely in the wrong. But this was Brando. She liked him a lot and causing him pain wasn’t something she had intended, not really. What she had said had been meant as a little zinger, nothing more. She turned to face him again, her eyes staring intently at the floor. “Hey, wait. I’m not gonna keep you, I just wanted to say I was sorry about what I said. It was mean and I shouldn’t have said it. I was hurt and I lashed out. It’s what I do. So, yeah... Sorry. For what it’s worth.”

luke: you are one of a kind

luke: 😂 i mean sure, you can be the first thru the finish line?

rory: isn't that a good thing?

rory: then you do that!! ill be rooting for you

Her expression changes, because that’s not true. “I’m not mean. Since when did you turn into a softy?” She just didn’t think it could be considered a break up if they were not officially dating. Things could surely get complicated, and it did sound like that was the case here. “So, it started as a casual thing but you both caught up in it? I’m sorry, I’m jus t trying to get the bigger picture. Like, I was aware of some things, but I don’t get involved with Brando’s love life, especially when other friends are involved.” Ophelia explains, sighing softly. “It wasn’t a mistake, Rory. You had every right to ask, especially if you wanted to know where it was going. Do you want something more?” 

-

“Since I put myself out there and got brutally shut down? I don’t know, I’m not myself right now, okay?” Rory muttered, twirling the straw in her drink absentmindedly. The only reason she was even being this honest was because Phe was the person sitting in front of her. She wouldn’t be saying shit if it were anyone but her. “I got caught up in it. I’m not so sure he did anymore. I mean, the conversation probably would’ve gone a different way if he did, right?” A frown settled on her features and she tried to suppress the tears she could feel were coming. She didn’t like to cry, even in front of the person who knew her the best. “I do.”

“I have a natural talent for picking up on people’s stuff,” Fallon laments with a half-hearted shrug. She can do plenty of half decent impressions of the various shades of Silverlake. Years of watching them all from an outsider’s view had made it easy to pick up on things.  When she mentions that things had ended between her and whoever she was seeing, Fallon gives a thoughtful nod before whipping out her usual advice for these situations. “Well fuck em. This is LA plenty of hot new people get off the bus daily.” 

-

“That sounds like quite the burden. Seriously, I’ve got enough baggage without carrying everyone else’s on top of it,” she said with a scoff, still trying to shift the focus off her shitty mood. The whole thing felt stupid at this point. She didn’t even know how to explain her relationship with Brando. They weren’t dating to begin with, so why was she upset? “I like him, though. I don’t like a lot of people, as you know, so it’s not like I can just pick up whatever dumbass I find out on the street.”

luke: i'd say i'm surprised

luke: but i have met you

luke: 😜

luke: that is always an option ms holt

rory: i'd be offended if i didn't totally own up to my shitiness

rory: awesome

rory: good luck tho i hope you win or whatever

luke: offence isnt really my go-to style

luke: do you want carrying to the finish line?

rory: good because i tend to put my foot in my mouth quite a bit

“wasn’t too much of a low blow?” marlow mused, smile tugging up the corner of their lips. honestly, there would have been no hard feelings if the woman said no, but marlow had to at least ask. “and yet again, i’m indebted to you.” a chuckle, marlow grinning. “nice to meet you. i’m marlow.” hands took the controls, triggering the ball. 

-

“Nah, it’s just the kind of thing I would do normally. Throwing paper at people lacks the subtlety I usually strive for.” But right now she happened to be pissed off at the world and taking it out on random people was easier than taking it out on the person that had angered her in the first place. “Careful there, don’t make promises you’ll regret. Seriously, I might come collecting.” Rory leaned against the machine, watching as they started playing. “I have to warn you that me working here does not mean I’m any good at these games.”

     Someone had said something about the arcade once and after that, it seemed as though it was all people could talk about. Maybe it was one of those things, where once you learned about it, then you saw or heard about it everyone.  

A year seemed to be a bit too long to have gone knowing about the arcade and not going, so now that Joseph had a do-nothing day, he figured it was now or never. 

When he first walked in, he couldn’t help but noticing the girl behind the counter scribbling in some notebook. After a spending about two dollars losing within the first couple of minutes at several games, Joseph decided he was more interested in what the staff member was writing than in passing any levels. He walked over to her and nodded to the notebook once she looked up at him. “Are you working on something for school?”  // @roryholt​

-

Another day, another dreadful eight hours spent behind the counter at RPO. She was jotting down random thoughts and ideas in her trusty notebook when a customer who clearly didn’t know of her terrible reputation risked everything by approaching her. She dragged her eyes up to meet his slowly, her displeasure obvious. Not only was he interrupting her writing, but he was asking about. Something she didn’t even discuss with her closest friends.

“I wish I could say yes. It’d explain why I’m still working the counter here at thirty years old, but alas,” she said with a long sigh, shutting her notebook closed unnecessarily loudly. Not many people here showed much interest in what she was writing down at all hours of the day, so she wasn’t sure he understood this guy’s angle. "Shouldn’t you be playing Pac-Man or something? That’s usually what people come in here to do.”

There was a difference in this attitude, anyone who knew Rory well enough would be able to tell. Ophelia wasn’t someone to bite her tongue or hold back for anyone’s sake, but that didn’t mean she cared any less for the brunette. “Nope – advices can be free, psychoanalysis though? Not so much.” A small smirk forms on her lips, watching her friend from her seat. Listening to everything, it all started making sense. “Seeing each other as in dating, or messing around?” she asks, taking a sip of her drink. “Because you know, guys perceive things on a totally different level. I love Brando, but that doesn’t make him an exception. Did you guys ever talk about it?” 

-

Rory chuckled, nodding with approval when Ophelia denied her. “I’m supposed to be the mean one here. Is this how you treat your friends when they’re going through a breakup? Well, a sort of breakup,” she corrected almost immediately. She couldn’t exactly pretend what she and Brando had been doing could qualify as dating, in all honesty. He’d made that clear. “Like, both? I don’t know, it’s hard to say. We were definitely messing around, but it got to be more than that, I think? We were hanging out all the time, going to parties and events together. We spent Valentine’s day together, which is what prompted me to ask what we were doing. What a fucking mistake that was, right? We never talked about it, which should’ve probably given me a hint when it came to his perception of the whole relationship.”

The longer that they were close to each other, the quicker that a tense feeling built up. It was in his chest, and it was uneasy. Pain wasn’t the exact word to describe it, however, it did sting. The last statement she made to him was that he had to grow up; and it shook him. Not in the greatest way, clearly. Maybe in more ways than one?

His upbringing had caused him to grow up pretty damn fast— a true sense of childhood never fully being relevant. But then again, how was she supposed to know that? Yes, they went to school together. And yes, they were in the same friend group for many years. But Brandon hardly spoke of his home life. And to this day, the person who knew everything was Orla. Second to that was probably Bowie, and then the list of knowledge kept decreasing from person to person. Most just knew that it ‘wasn’t the best.’ 

“I’ve been good. Same ol’, same ol’.” Clearly not the most descriptive response, but there wasn’t much else that he was going to offer. Being honest in their last conversation didn’t seem to go well, so why would he continue that streak? “—You?” 

-

After growing so close to Brandon over the past months, it felt really fucking terrible to be standing in front of him and feel like he was nothing more than a stranger. She had made it happen, she supposed, with her insistence to define their relationship and then her harsh parting comment. That was what Rory did when she was hurt. She didn’t cry, she didn’t beg, she didn’t eat her weight in ice cream. No, instead she got angry and went for the jugular. It was how she learned to survive when she was a kid.

“Good. That’s good,” she said with a nod, matching his short answers. She usually carried the conversations when she was in Brando’s presence, but it was clear he wanted to keep this encounter as quick as possible. Plus, he didn’t look too affected by their fight or by the time they’d spent apart and she didn’t want him to see that she was. She really fucking was. “Fine... Yeah, just fine.”

Bowie waits as he always does when he finds himself on the cusp of an honest conversation with Rory Holt. She was more outgoing than most introverts, but when it came to getting down to the nitty gritty of emotions, she could be gun shy. Being with her had taught him a sense of patience he had never possessed in adolescence, too excitable and distracted to really grasp the concept until he found himself in love with someone who would always need a minute. 

( Now, years laters, with perspective and a deeper sense of understanding he can see so clearly why Rory and Brando gravitated to one another. ) 

There’s a callousness to her tale that doesn’t quite gel with his idea of Brandon Cavallo, he had only ever known him as the embodiment of a gentle giant – a man of few words but the ones he did choose to share never seemed as cruel as the synopsis Rory offered. Like only a writer could, it’s enough to draw him in, spark further questions as he seeks a more rounded version of events. 

“Well, fuck, yeah. That’s gonna do it,” Bowie concurs, he wishes it wasn’t the case because her disposition did have a ripple effect on the vibe of his arcade, but he also wouldn’t force her to slap on a smile when she was genuinely dealing with someone. “Don’t take it the wrong cause I’m not saying I think either of you are in the right or the wrong, that’s all more complicated than I’m sure I know but Brando didn’t have the easiest time growing up, and he grew up pretty fast because of it. I know that was your version of some solid parting life advice but, I don’t think there’s any scenario where I can imagine he would have taken that well.” 

-

Rory stared at the ground stubbornly, her foot tapping nervously as Bowie stared at her and waited for her to stay something. He knew her better than most people did, but that didn’t make baring her soul any easier. How could she explain to him that Brandon deciding she was good enough to fuck, but not to date brought her back to a place she tried her hardest to avoid. It always came down to her not being enough. Bowie knew that.

“Yeah, well, he hurt me and I wanted to hurt him back just as hard.” It wasn’t that hard to figure out why she said the things she had. She couldn’t have known just how much it would hurt him, of course, but her intention had still been for her words to sting. “Maybe he shouldn’t have led me on then. He can’t just take me out on dates, do all the romantic, couple-y shit and then act surprised when I ask him what we’re doing. He’s not that stupid.”