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( making silly faces at babies in the grocery store line, avoiding cracks on the sidewalk, the light and clear sound of a windchime in the breeze, petting stray cats when you cross their paths, and mismatched silver earrings. ) / @volumeupdates​

         SEASON TWO!  ♫  𝐼'𝑀 𝐿𝐼𝐾𝐸 𝐴 𝐵𝐼𝑅𝐷.

🎸

“i wouldn’t snitch on you.” and for a heartbeat, the knowledge that marty knows about the whole… hoedown throwdown thing comes up in their mind. “i would probably have to mug you back, though. even it out,” marty remarks, hand with its palm down and a swift motion to drive the point home. “was it busy tonight with some trivia or whatever? or was it just a regular pub night?” they don’t quite know why they ask; they don’t go the the wild rover all that often but talking about a pub seems better than to let the conversation stir itself somewhere marty doesn’t want it to. “it’s fine.” there’s a tight smile on their lips, meeting sloane’s eyes for a moment before shrugging. it wasn’t, not really. well, it would be if not for everything else that made the stolen nerf gun feel like a fucked up cherry on top of a shit cake. “i’ll get a new one soon enough. don’t know what those fuckers want with a plastic nerf gun but i hope they’re having fun with it.” they huff, equal parts annoyed and amused. “i heard they took your jacket. hope it wasn’t like… a favourite of yours. they’re the weirdest robbers ever.”

         nisa grins against sloane’s shoulder at the picture she paints. “y’know i really should start paying more attention to the news. had i know, i totally would’ve joined the protesters. i bet i could make a mean sign.” what’s it even take to make a good sign for a protest? nice handwriting, eye catching colors, and a slogan? she can handle that. “oh, don’t worry about losing again. i’m devising a plan make sure we kick his ass next week as we speak. i hope you’re okay with cheating, because currently, my plan is to get the questions in advance. if flirting with bartenders is the sacrifice i have to make to keep my roommate, so be it.” not that it would be much of a sacrifice, considering that’s how nisa gets nearly half of her drinks, but that’s beside the point.

         there’s a chill in the woodstock air, but nisa doesn’t even feel it; warmed by the drinks she’d had at trivia and sloane’s company. her arm is looped through sloane’s, and her head’s resting on her shoulder as they walk home. the two have slipped into a casual closeness with an ease that’s surprised nisa, given how difficult most of her other relationships in woodstock have proven to be. “i know you’re not the type to scare easily,” nisa says as they come to a stop at a crosswalk, waiting on the minimal small town traffic for their turn to jaywalk. “but still, i’m really happy you didn’t decide to skip town after the whole boat explosion thing.”

there’s a strange sense of freedom that comes with not knowing where the fuck you are, even if just for a moment ( marty is… maybe seventy percent sure she’s somewhere near wild rover pub but that’s it ). the night has become a sort of blur for marty — long and yet not long enough, calm all around them but their chest still feels tight and their breathing never really feels weightless at any given moment — and they don’t know whether it’s the fact their day has been longer than most since they can’t really tell if they slept the night before or if it’s the weed they’ve brought as their only companion. their little bubble is burst by someone’s footsteps; it should be alarming, to be approached by someone at ungodly hours of the night, and yet all marty can do is slowly look up at the person that had come meet them. “i thought someone was gonna mug me or somethin’,” marty jokes as soon as she sees sloane’s face, trying to let out an amused scoff but all it comes out as is hollow and weak. they put the camera down, fully looking at sloane this time. “you coming back from some cool place?”

“Or maybe I’m just too distracted with this,” he counters, shaking the spray bottle in his hand before he throws it onto his bag, approaching her, as well, now that she has made the first step. He doesn’t think Sloane’s easy to overlook, not when he keeps noticing her every time they happen to be in the same area outside of the store. Besides, he’d argue that being easy to overlook is not a bad thing. If anything, he prefers being easy to overlook. Anything to not be perceived. He looks in the direction of where she’s looking, till he gives up and looks back at her, not sure what she’s looking at. “Uh—yeah, he is. I was there yesterday morning. Have you?” he wonders, letting out a light, short-lived chuckle at her following words. “Sounds like you have a lot of them in your pocket.”

          “sure,” she nods. “also a possibility. that’s too bad. i was really hoping maybe i’m just part chameleon.” a part of her has always thought this to be true. or maybe she’s just good at disappearing, which would make her something else entirely. she notices his face turn in her periphery, and she stifles a smile. “oh, there’s nothing there. just checking to make sure my vision’s still perfect.” her gaze returns to chase. 

         wes nods as if he’s listening. it’s more of a formality than anything. jennifer had lined out all the job entailed before his first shift and with her apathetic demeanor, sloane is the last person he needs around to remind him what he’s supposed to be doing. what he’s more concerned with is figuring out what she was doing bumming it in a small town. “what if my question for you, though?” he starts, situating his body to face her. without regard to how she might respond, he inquires, “are you planning on sticking around town much longer?” his tone comes off harsher than he intends. if she plans to stay in woodstock much longer, the last thing he needs is animosity between him and someone who could potentially have a say in whether his plans for a mayoral campaign end in success or disappointment. as a precaution, wes throws her deceptive clarification. “don’t get me wrong, i’m all for figuring life out by spending time in a place that’s not your hometown. i’m just curious. there’s not a lot to do here.” 

He thinks he’s alone at the skate park—and it’s exactly what he needs. He can focus better, think better, especially right now, when there’s so much going on. He was already someone with so much plaguing his mind and thoughts, and right now, this has become even worse. He turns around to fetch another spray paint bottle when his eyes spot a familiar figure. Sloane. He has no idea how long she’s been standing there. Under normal circumstances, he would’ve found this amusing. It’s not the first time he and Sloane coincidentally end up in the same place outside of High Volume, but after the party, he hadn’t really talked to her about what went out. Looking back, he should’ve, as she was part of it, with him and Eric. He reciprocates her gesture after just staring at her longer than he should’ve. “Didn’t know anyone else was here.”

     SINCE MEETING HER, SLOANE JENNINGS has flown entirely under trip’s radar. he’d thought her figured out : unassuming, mundane, nice, of course, but nothing to write home about. however, in the span of less than a minute, she somehow managed to undo all of that. ❝ right, your mothers, ❞ he repeats, intrigued by the way she says it like there’s a story here he should already know. honestly, he’s a little bummed he doesn’t. sloane carries on, whirling through the scene like a tornado in both her words and actions. it leaves him blinking and befuddled, wondering how on earth he managed to write her off for so long until now. eager to have more of his preconceived notions about her rocked, trip grabs the lemon she requests and scrambles after her. ❝ okay, seriously, what are you on ? ❞ he asks, half joking, half not. ❝ ‘cuz whatever it is, you’re going to have to share. ❞ this part, at least, is said with a laugh.

WORKING FOR THE MAN,   ⋆   ❪  task seven.  ❫

@volumeupdates​. 𝐋𝐎𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍:  hospital,  a  few  days  after  the  hoedown  throwdown.

     IF  THERE’S  TWO  THINGS  MAXINE  SINCLAIR  has  learned  in  life  it’s  this:  life  is  such  a  fragile  thing,  and  people  are  meant  to  leave,  one  way  or  another.  being  here  revives  memories  max  has  done  her  best  to  tuck  away  and  though  they’re  all  telling  her  kem  will  be  fine  she  also  remembers  a  time  after  her  dad’s  death  when  they’d  told  her  she’d  be  fine.  she’s  not  so  convinced  she  ever  was  after  that.

     right  now,  max  is  staring  down  a  vending  machine,  knowing  full  well  she  has  no  more  cash  on  her  and  she’s  not  really  feeling  yet  another  kit  kat  bar  anyway.  in  fact,  the  mere  thought  of  it  makes  her  wanna  double  over,  but  both  trip  and  kem  have  been  adamant  about  her  trying  to  eat  something.  the  least  she  can  do  is  pretend.  

     sure  she  could  go  home,  trust  that  kem  is  in  good  hands,  there’s  not  much  she  can  do  here  anyway,  but  between  the  bench  in  the  hospital  lobby  and  the  immediate  proximity  to  kem  should  he  need  anything  max  feels  better  staying  —  this  despite  the  dried  blood  on  her  boots  and  her  greasy  hair.  

     max  decides  to  turn  on  her  heel,  headed  back  to  her  designated  bench  that  they’ve  told  her  to  leave  a  hundred  times  after  visitation  hours,  when  she  walks  straight  into  someone  without  so  much  as  glancing  at  them.  «  watch  it,  »  she  exclaims,  agitated,  out  of  character.

         sloane is at the hospital more out of obligation than any real worry. kem’s going to be okay, the doctors had made that clear. he was lucky— they all were. more and more often, she wonders if she’s standing on the right side of the line, if her loyalties are being kept with the right people.

christian placed his order, then nodded a short thank you when the bartender slid the glass over. he turned to sloane then, really taking her in for the first time since she started at the store…then he placed her. he always looked familiar, but he just figured it was the small town thing. “christ,” he ducked away, suddenly embarrassed.

christian didn’t remember everything he told her, but from what little he could recall, and from her comment, he knew it was nothing he normally would have told a co-worker. “you can just forget all that.” he tried with a shake of his hand. 

         “there you go.” she nods encouragingly, with as much enthusiasm as a grade school teacher. “hey, no shame, we’ve all been there.” not that sloane has; she finds herself somewhere between an open book and a tower with high walls, something closer to a house with the lights off, the blinds shut, and the door closed— but not locked.

       wes doesn’t really know sloane. they’re only familiar with each other because of trivia night and even then, he assumes she only knows him as the guy who yells at her partner from across the bar when things get heated. all in all, it may be from lack of initiative on his end. except he gets the feeling she doesn’t care for him all that much. it doesn’t bother him, not when the feeling is mutual. he can’t comprehend what sloane is doing in woodstock to begin with. with them working the same shift, his first shift, there’s an uncomfortable silence that hangs in the air. “so,” he clears his throat, attempting to make things less awkward. “you’re supposed to be training me?” he doesn’t do well with other people showing him the ropes, more inclined to figure things out on his own, but he’s willing to try if it means he gets to stick around the store longer to make a change around town.