* into the endless night !

now that she had them, marisol didn’t think she would be complete without say say and tulip. they brought light and music back into her life, and there was no doubt about it. the second she walked into the apartment for the first time and saw the drawings on the walls, and all of say say’s trinkets,  she knew that the other girl would be someone she stuck by for a long time. it’s strange, knowing that you’re supposed to be with someone from the moment you see them. her grandma always talked about “her meant-to-be”, the person you know is your soulmate, the one made for you. your person. at one point, marisol would have said that she didn’t even believe in love at first sight, that it was something that only existed in rom coms with sidney poitier. but  say say was her meant-to-be, and she wasn’t spending any second of her life without her. they had a steady thing going, but marisol was scared to define it. she worried that if she did, say say would be overwhelmed, and run away. ever since the deaths of her grandma and ms. liza jane, she had this dread in her heart that everyone around her would leave, and she would be all on her own, and she couldn’t have that, so she was going to hold on as tight as she could and not let go. not for a long time.  seeing that grin on say say’s face? that was all she wanted to see every day for the rest of her life. she stepped closer to say say, and tucked the flower behind her ear. “perfect.” she let out a fake groan at the mention of reciprocation. “say… you don’t have to. i’ll escape it, i will. i’ll be like harry houdini in the straitjacket. watch me.” 

The first one in line was a lanky older man with bowboy boots and purple streaks in his dark hair. He seemed to be someone who was eager to get on. To prove something to himself or to prove something to others, his gaze flittered everywhere, never landing on a single person. So maybe just to prove something to himself.

"And while I do like to bet you out of your money, spending it on a guitar doesn't sound to bad," she opted. "Are you any good? Or do you most play for yourself?" She remembered fondly the time when she believed she and her veera were artists, when she thought she could make her own songs and maybe get famous one day.

thoroughly impressed by the unique visage of the man approaching the bull next, ellie took another swig of his drink, a grin pulling like thread through cloth on the corner of his mouth. he hoped he could be that brave when he was that old; and god knew he would be. he could only change so much about himself before he undid his entire personhood entirely, and that had never worked out for him before.

"y'know what, thank you for saying that. my siblings would probably smack me over the head with a newspaper for even entertaining the idea," he said, seeming truly appreciative at her words. whenever he was inquired about his skill, he was eager to boast. "i like to think i'm pretty good. i've been playing since i was eleven, so. i've got a lot of practice in over the last twenty years. not in a band or anything—i guess i do play for myself most of the time," he felt the need to return the curiosity as the older man mounted the bull. "what about you? what do you get up to when not betting on old men's lives?"

mac lets out another laugh, it seems like laughter was one of the only things mac could really do around kenny vitelli. “if perfect’s a stand in for horrid, then they’re perfect alright,” they say, looking down at the menu. while they could recite the breakfast options at the waffle cottage as easily as they could recite the periodic table thank you jones, they were in the mood for something a little off the beaten path. there were milkshakes that had accoutrements stacking up to the heavens, with things like cookie cakes and full cake slices on top of them. who would even order something like this? let alone make it? just looking up at the pictures sent a shiver up their spine. “sometimes,” they lightly punch kenny on the shoulder. “you’re not the only girl on my mind,” they joke. “exactly. every time i see him, i want to freeze up and run away. it’s actually my biggest regret coming back to haunt me.” there were three things in mckayla’s life that they regretted: leaving sj being the one at the top of the list. they often wondered what would happen if they never left the house that day, but then, would they have the life they have now? with a pseudo-friend in a vitelli, while trying to uncover the various sprawling mysteries of las vegas. “i disagree on the too crunchy part,” they say, waving a fork in the air, “the crunch is the best part. but i do love the softness of pancakes.” listening to kenny talk about her health, mac leaned in, as if they were getting a scoop. “ken.” they chide, pointing the fork at the youngest vitelli, “i’ll take really good care of everything. they’ll act like my child that i didn’t abandon.”

These days, she sings at home and in public, at work (both the club and the hospital), to her dog and to her plants, wherever she pleases. It's garnered her a little fanbase in some parts, and tonight, they cheer loudly and drunkenly for her.

"No way?!" Her jaw drops, a large grin on her face. Sophia squints her eyes in the dim light, trying to put a name to the face beside her. She can't quite place the woman, maybe a newer artist? She'd admit her records were a bit dated, but obviously, she was open to newer tunes. She clicks her tongue, dropping the pen into the middle of the book and deciding this was much more important than singing again. "Oh, uhm... Thanks!" She laughs a bit, arm leaning against the high top table. "I was in choir as a kid, and my best friends mom really, really encouraged me to expand." It's a brief explanation, but it's a fond one. "I bet it would be just like ridin' a bike for you! What kinda performer? Like theater?"

It's not even truly being starstruck, at least, Sophia wouldn't classify it as such. But how often does someone meet another who has the same interest but also happens to be someone of influence in the subject? She counts herself blessed in the moment that they're sharing the space.

but maybe she'd just been out of the game for a while. that was likely it, still, she had no plans on stepping up and picking a song for herself to perform. she was more than glad watching others and beholding new talent rising before her eyes. "yeah, way," she confirmed, laughter punctuating the words as she crossed her arms, a way of blocking herself off so she didn't feel too vulnerable admitting something that was already public knowledge. "choir, that checks out. choir kids are some of the best. you know, they actually turned me down for it when i was in school. took some vocal training for me to be on that level," she continued praising. "oh, no, not theatre. god no. i'm, uh, nadine zhang. dina," on instinct, she offered a hand out in greeting with a crooked smile. "i used to do arena shows and stuff—released an album and all that. it was, uh, pop punk. toured with some other bands. but that was a few years back. i ran out of that life with my tail between my legs a long time ago."

and she hadn't missed it in the slightest. she was at her lowest when she was her most infamous, which had sent her into a spiral of drugs, alcohol, and disordered eating that impacted her already addled-mind for what would be the remaining duration of her natural life. but she'd made peace with that the day she fled los angeles, and now, she wouldn't change a thing if it meant she wound up with the life she was given with ava.

“i don’t know if they’re good enough to hang up anywhere,” he admits quietly, gaze drifting toward the walls of six strings instead—the instruments, handwritten signs, layered flyers. lived-in things. somehow all fitting together despite the clutter of them. and for a brief second, he thinks maybe it wouldn’t be so strange to leave a little piece of himself here too. something small. something quiet for his home away from home.

his attention shifts between them after a moment. “which do you think is harder to learn?” he asks. “piano or guitar?”

and when reina says they should do this more often, something unfamiliar settles quietly beneath his ribs: inclusion. not simply being nearby while other people existed around him, but being wanted there too. it still surprises him every time.

at the mention of the wedding his gaze lifts almost immediately toward her, surprise crossing his face before he can smooth it away. “you want me there?” the question slips out quieter than intended. almost immediately, embarrassment follows close behind it. “i mean—” his shoulders shift faintly. “of course i’ll come. i wouldn't miss it for the world.”

the suggestion of portraits draws another pause from him, softer this time. he pictures it briefly—small moments caught before they disappear. people laughing when they think no one’s paying attention. hands linked together. motion held still for a second longer than life usually allows. sketching the brides as they bask in their love. his expression eases around the thought.

“i could do that,” he says after a moment, more certain now. “i’d love to.”

whenever posed the question, say say's lips pursed in thought while nadine gave her ample time to respond first. "well, they're so different. i don't know if i could stretch my hands the way dina has to sometimes—but there's a certain finesse with piano that can't be replicated anywhere else. i dunno. what do you think, di?" she asked her sister-in-law, who had adorned a grin as she listened intently to the words exchanged.

"i'd say she's mostly right," nadine confirmed as she continued wiping down one gorgeous gibson hummingbird; something she'd been secretly plotting to purchase for herself at the end of busy season. typically, during the summer, all the kids she taught took time off to enjoy their free time at home. she couldn't blame them, even if she missed having so much work to do. it was a blessing in disguise, considering she had a wedding to plan. "i played some keys when i was making my album, but i left it to the pros when i was touring. i'd say its intricacies exceed my talents. plus, i have zero idea how to read sheet music," she laughed, a warm sound traveling up her throat.

the young guitarist grinned more whenever leo accepted the invitation. "of course i want you there. we're best friends, aren't we?" she tossed aside the cleaning rag and went to join him at his side, offering a gentle nudge. "sweet. i can't wait, personally. i know ava will love having something like that as a keepsake. and don't worry, you'll be paid handsomely. it's the least i can do after you've kept me company all this time."

Fingers clutching an empty shot glass as wide brown eyes surveyed the rowdy crowd, the taste of her liquid courage still burning at the back of her throat, Astrid reached up to fiddle absently with the flower adorning her hair—part of her uniform for the evening. With her shift drawing to a close, a night of serving customers in her usual place of work behind her, she debated getting out on the dancefloor and joining in on the festivities for once. You'd think for someone that danced for a living (and much more scantily clad than she currently was), Astrid would be a little more comfortable with the idea of dancing to country music with strangers. But that was exactly her issue... they were strangers. And even though the brunette felt a vague sense of comfort, being in the club that she largely considered her home away from home, she was still horribly out of her comfort zone. Though she projected an easy confidence on stage, the picture of grace and charisma during her act, this was different. She didn't have a flashy stage persona to hide behind. There was no space between performer and audience to protect her. No, this was something she had to do as herself, not as Scarlet, a thought almost as horrifying as the recent string of misfortune that had befallen her. Because she didn't want to think about all the things that had gone horribly wrong lately—her unfortunate run-in with the law, a missing family friend, and a penchant for stumbling across body parts. She wanted a reprieve, even if it was something as trivial as dancing with the locals. So, with a steeling breath, the former ballerina slammed down her shot glass, marching right towards the dance floor, determined to approach the first available dance partner she found. That is, until she bumped into someone crossing her path, she shoulder colliding with them. "Oh, I'm so sorry! I was just hoping to join in. Are you okay?" came her automatic apology, nearly lost among the sound of lively fiddles, a flush of embarrassment creeping over her cheeks.

Theirs was an unlikely friendship and she knew that in the past, befriending someone like Kenny would've put in her at odds with her own family--then again, so would dating Meera and that hadn't stopped her before. Of course, only a few people knew about that and her newfound friend wasn't one of them. Their love affair going public wouldn't hurt Romi--nothing could really hurt her anymore, now that she'd lost everything--at least, image-wise. But it would hurt Meera. She doubted the Vitelli family would just let something like that slide, even if they really did think their love connection had only started after the ex-heiress had been disinherited, which it certainly hadn't. So it was better to keep it all under wraps.

She chuckled when Kenny mentioned her brothers being good contenders for clown school. Of course, she couldn't relate to having brothers and she definitely wouldn't describe either of her sisters as clowns. It would seem that the Vitelli family had a lot more fun than the Weisses did--or at least, that was what it appeared like on the surface. Every family had their secrets. Romi knew that better than anyone.

pain and bliss could coexist in harmony, it seemed, at least in kineret vitelli's world. she had been painfully and blissfully oblivious of the happenings in her family's life for as long as she had the name vitelli to call her own. whatever affairs meera participated in were no concern of hers, which is the way she preferred it. while as of late she was forced into realizing the importance of their social standing and her obedience and servitude to their legacy, this didn't mean she had to necessarily care or pry inside her siblings' lives. god knew what alessandro had up his sleeve for the future of their family; spencer was always fucking off somewhere, stirring up trouble with their rival house whenever given the ripest opportunity; and meera, well, she was the best behaved of them all. it would've come as a great surprise to learn she had been romancing a weiss all this time—kenny might not have been any better, associating with romi as a friend, but at least she wasn't macking on her.

it was true that the vitellis knew how to have a good time. the weisses always seemed so strict and brooding. honestly, kenny would've put a gun in her mouth if she'd have been adopted by them. it was arduous enough, dealing with her own family, which came with enough strife as it was—but being a weiss? it sounded like unending torture. really, she wasn't sure how romi survived it for so long, and she was thoroughly impressed whenever she was cut off, whether or not it was intended.