musa aku ( strength ) for lastseenhq
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he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
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@strcngth
musa aku ( strength ) for lastseenhq
intro ā pin ā main

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the look on musaās face sends a rushing wave of guilt through anthony. the voiced concern for him and liza, followed by tell me how i can help just made ant want to go back into the diner and act like nothing was wrong. he wished he could act as if he wasnāt about to drop the biggest bomb on his friend. his best friend.
āno, no, iām fine. lizaās fine,ā anthony reassures musa quickly, shaking his head, ānobodyās hurt. what i need to tell you, it happened a while ago, and i want you to hear it from me before this psycho uses it against us.ā he pauses, takes a deep breath. fuck, his hands were shaking. ant quickly stuffs them into his pockets. here goes nothing, the secret he thought he would take to his grave. ālast year, after me and amelia broke up, i hooked up with blythe. and again, after amelia died.ā
he relaxes momentarily when he says he and liza are both fine, but the look on anthony's face doesn't change. and he keeps going, musa's brow furrowing deeper with each uttered word.
musa freezes, an uneasiness creepy over him. it's not anger yet, it's an ugly, crawling feeling creating a pit in his stomach. he shakes his head, "man, that's not fucking funny, okay? don't bullshit me like that." he says, standing up from the hood of the car. he lets out a sharp breath, "is tag putting you up to this? is this one of the fucking 'challenges?'" but from the look on his best friend's face, he's not entirely sure. but the anthony he knows wouldn't do this to him, right? not his best friend who knows what blythe means to him, what that relationship was for him. he falls back a step, "tell me you're joking right now."
When Musa sat down, Justice couldn't help but to smile. As miserable as everything had been, getting back in touch with Musa was a bright spot in the dark. It felt like lifetimes between their blossoming friendship and his rise to athletic superstardom, where he ended up seeing more of her sister than he would her. But what was there to be mad about? If she'd had the opportunity, she'd have taken it. The desperation, however, emanated from her like a stench everyone else in Wrensted was allergic to. "Allegedly," Justice repeated back to him. "If you believe those weirdos from the class of 2019."
So much had happened since graduation, since the Peyton incident, and they wondered what Musa's involvement could possibly have been. He was too kind to have done anything like that, and he didn't seem to be under the same spell that Ant and Sarah had fallen for - the admiration of one Amelia Castro was hardly on his radar when he had Blythe. Maybe it was for Blythe, then, that he'd participated? Or Ant, as a comforting friend. Maybe he hadn't even been involved directly, had only done something like provide an alibi or hold onto someone's phone. Thinking of which, they picked theirs up off the ground and turned it off, making a show of it to Musa. "Well, can't listen now," they joked wryly, wishing that were the case. Their mind drifted back to the cabin, where they'd called out to Tag and assured it they weren't trying to escape the trap of a party they'd all "set up". Tossing the phone back into the cold wood chips and dirt, they leaned into the seat fully and started swinging, enjoying a minute of silence with an old friend. "We're probably safer out here than in our own places," she said sadly, glancing over. A disturbing thought: Anthony could have told Musa about Wren. Musa would certainly understand, Justice thought, that she was trying to keep everyone else out of jail, too. And on the topic of Anthony telling people things - "Have you, um... Has anyone told you my little theory yet?"
"Mine too." He patted his pocket where his powered down phone lay safely, not to be turned on until he was safe back at home. And even then, what exactly was considered safe now? At least at home he was alone, no conversations being had. He watched their phone land in the mulch before his eyes flicked back to them, "You're probably right." He tried not to think about it when trying to fall asleep at night. Musa shook his head, "Nah, haven't done much theory talk lately," Out of self-preservation, mostly; he knew he needed to stay informed, but things hadn't been so straightforward lately, "Tell me about it?" He asked, swinging creaking quietly as he shifted his feet. Despite everything, he felt as if he could trust Justice. Maybe it was the fact that it felt like she was more on the outside, like she was someone he could show more of himself to. He had, long ago, but they were both different now. Different and yet, so much of who they once were permeated the air the between them, the memory of their childhood sitting heavy upon Musa's shoulders. Justice, who knew his childhood secrets and played with him when no one else had, and Justice who sat next to him now, the one he hadn't had a real conversation with in over a decade ā the same but different.
a small, half-hearted laugh escapes antās lips as he finishes up the rest of his meal. āyeah, everyone is physically fine,ā he concedes, shaking his head, ābut mentally? weāre all a little more fucked up than we were before.ā anthony wipes his hands on his napkin before pushing himself up from the booth. āiāll go pay and meet you outside?ā
he doesnāt wait for an answer from musa before heās making his way towards the cash register sitting on the far end of the bar. anthony fumbles with his wallet, his hands shaking from nerves as he taps his card and stuffs a few bills in the tip jar.
the cold air is enough to shake a little of the nerves anthony feels once he steps outside. fuck, he needs to get this over with before he completely chickens out or has a panic attack. or both.
āi have something i need to tell you.ā
"venmo request me." he nods, rising from the booth. musa walks outside, leaning against the hood of his car. he checks his phone, remembers he turned it off ā a habit he's gotten into lately. he keeps it off when he doesn't need it since the party. he powers it on to check for any missed notifications.
when anthony comes out of the restaurant, he can feel the energy coming off of him, followed by words you almost never want to hear. musa's brow creases, concern flooding his face, "okay... what's goin' on? are you alright? is liza alright?" his mind runs through every issue that could be looming. and lately? there are a lot of options. he fixes his gaze on his best friend, "tell me how i can help."
closed starter for @strcngth location: wren's nest, a few days after the party
after his talk with wren and his scolding (for lack of a better word) from georgia, anthony knew that he needed to come clean. continuing to keep this secret from musa was only going to hurt both of them in the long run. and a... public space was probably the best place to tell your best friend that you slept with his ex, right? the diner was slow, at least, so there wasn't anyone around to hear the confession that he was about to give.
ant swirls one of his now semi-cold fries in the ketchup on his plate. "so," he starts, popping the fry into his mouthing before he continues, "that party was crazy, right?" okay, definitely not the topic he was intending to broach right now, but maybe anthony could find a way to segue into what he really wanted to say. "i can't believe it was just that-- a party. can you?"
musa nods, humming, "it's kind of insane. i'm still waiting to figure out what the catch is..." he hopes there isn't one, but he also knows better by now. he takes a sip of his dwindling soda, leaning back in his seat with a small smile, "for now... i'll just be glad no one got killed or maimed. that's maybe the best we can ask for, huh?" he lets a soft snort leave his lips, shaking his head, "if i would've known it was a party, i would've brought liza's present with me." he keeps his eyes on ant. the energy between them is a little weird, but he doesn't question it. everything's been pretty fucking weird lately.

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location: sullivan park (the playground area, specifically the swingset) characters: justice & open (2/5)
When nothing felt safe, the risk of going out in the night and maybe getting conked by a masked nightmare weighed out evenly with the risk of the aforementioned nightmare inviting itself into their apartment while they slept. So, instead of spending more time restlessly categorizing items from bed, they hopped on their bike and rode to the park. After locking their bike to the side of the swingset, Justice took a middle swing (the one that, if she were still a kid, would be the best one because then people were on either side) and backed into the seat. Leaning against the seat, the blonde tossed their phone to the ground and properly sat. For years, swingsets were prime real estate that Justice never quite had access to. She was slow, and she didn't have friends to "hold her place", and some kids got more time on the swings even though they were supposed to be taking turns. As they all grew up, less of her peers were interested in the swings, and she found herself at some point alone on the set in the playground for those 15 minutes. Defiant as ever, she'd kick and pull and kick and pull and swing until she was out of breath. She wanted to swing so high she made a full loop, and then people would notice her. Then they'd wish they were her friend, and she'd get to play with whomever she wanted. Now 25, Justice felt a sense of calm on a lonely swingset. They'd have been perfectly content in the silence only disturbed by the occasional creaks, but then they noticed someone else. Narrowing their eyes, Justice finally recognized who it was. "Y'know," they called out, "there's two empty swings here if you wanted to join."
"I was mostly wondering if you wanted a push." Musa shrugged, hands slipping into his jacket pockets as he walked closer. Seeing Justice there, on a swing, brought back the memories of their middle school friendship, of Musa the New Kid finding his way with Justice more than happy to help. It felt so long ago. It was so long ago. But still, he could feel that same fear he did then, his fear of not being able to fit himself in where he needed to. Of course, he had, but nothing ever felt completely stable. Even now.
He walked over and plopped down into the swing to their right, "Y'know, it's pretty dangerous to be out here by yourself. There's a masked guy throwing parties and chasing people through cemeteries. Allegedly."
Musa sighed, shoe digging gently into the dirt below his swing. His legs were too long for it now, knees nearly to his chest fully seated. "Think they're watching us right now?" He asked, voice lifting in a teasing way, though he wasn't really joking, "Seems to have eyes and ears everywhere." Even in private conversations in the comfort of their own homes.
šššššš ššššššš š šš:Ā @strcngth
ššššš:Ā musa's apartment
from an outsider's perspective, this whole thing might look like a date. liza, propped up on musa's counter with a glass of the wine she'd brought in her hand, supervising rather than actually helping with anything. she's quite the cook herself, but musa had offered, after all. friends did this kind of stuff all the time though, didn't they? it wasn't uncommon for liza to hang around the kitchen pestering william when it was his turn to cook, though she usually did so from their table rather than close enough to reach out and touch him. and there usually wasn't wine involved.
still, this was a totally friendly hangout. something they'd discussed before he'd slept over or they'd held hands at the party. both things, by the way, that were totally friendly as well. it's not their fault that their friends want to read more into things. if her eyes sometimes lingered a little too long? if she enjoyed being able to study the curves and lines of his face from this close? if she was comforted by the warmth radiating off of him, if it made her want to move in closer? that's none of anyone else's business. it's not even her own right now.
"so what's for dinner, chef?"
musa dropped some salt into the water that was starting to boil, glancing over at liza with a soft grin, "going easy. pasta." musa was good in the kitchen generally, but he didn't want to try anything too out of the box and embarrass himself. it had nothing to do with the fact that embarrassing himself in front of eliza felt a little different than embarrassing himself in front of say... anthony or sarah. it had nothing to do with want to impress liza, obviously.
while the water boiled, he grabbed his own glass of wine and took a sip, eyes resting on liza's face ā it was the kind of moment where you just want to take a picture or, maybe, stop time for a few extra seconds. not that he could say that out loud. musa had come to terms with his attraction to his friend. he had also come to terms with the fact that nothing could ever happen between them. "it's sauce from a jar, though, i'm not that complex. but i did swing for the eight-dollar jar. balling out." he set his wine down to grab said sauce from the cupboard, "how've you been since the party? basking in your now old age? feeling wiser?" he teased. he had a birthday present to give her, but he figured he'd wait until after dinner for that.
musaāsĀ reassuringĀ wordsĀ settledĀ overĀ her,Ā spreadingĀ neosporinĀ onĀ aĀ woundĀ sheĀ hadnātĀ realisedĀ wasĀ stillĀ open.Ā hisĀ armĀ aroundĀ herĀ shouldersĀ wasĀ aĀ familiarĀ weight,Ā aĀ comfortĀ sheĀ hadnātĀ knownĀ sheĀ neededĀ untilĀ itĀ wasĀ there,Ā pullingĀ herĀ backĀ intoĀ hisĀ gravity.Ā sheĀ leanedĀ intoĀ him,Ā lettingĀ herĀ headĀ restĀ againstĀ theĀ solidĀ warmthĀ ofĀ hisĀ chestĀ forĀ aĀ moment,Ā herĀ eyesĀ closingĀ asĀ sheĀ absorbedĀ hisĀ confession.Ā
ā soĀ whatĀ youāreĀ saying, āĀ herĀ fingers,Ā whichĀ were now intertwinedĀ behindĀ hisĀ back,Ā beganĀ toĀ traceĀ idleĀ patternsĀ againstĀ theĀ fabricĀ ofĀ hisĀ shirt. ā isĀ thatĀ iāveĀ completelyĀ andĀ irrevocablyĀ ruinedĀ youĀ forĀ everyoneĀ else ?Ā thatĀ iāveĀ setĀ theĀ barĀ soĀ impossiblyĀ highĀ thatĀ noĀ oneĀ elseĀ willĀ everĀ compare ? āĀ sheĀ tiltedĀ herĀ headĀ backĀ toĀ lookĀ upĀ atĀ him,Ā grinĀ wide.Ā ā iĀ think i might just wantĀ thatĀ onĀ myĀ tombstone. ā
musa snorted, humming as he rubbed her shoulder gently, "yeah, that's exactly what i'm saying. i'm completely fucked, blythe, what am i supposed to do?" he teased, looking down at her with same warm, familiar smile he always did. and maybe he was completely fucked, but that was hardly blythe's fault. he had a lot of baggage besides the 'only ever loving one person' thing.
his eyes flicked over her face, searching for something, he wasn't sure what exactly. maybe a trace of what they used to be, of how she used to look at him. he forced his eyes back into the darkness beyond the fire, "and this... i want us to be okay. i want us to be on the same side. because we can't do this shit alone. whatever's happening and whatever comes next? i need you."
STRENGTHĀ ā¶ MUSA ABENI AKU
thatās the problem with being the strong one. no one offers you a hand.. ā m.t.
ā itĀ justĀ madeĀ meĀ feelĀ aĀ bitĀ shitty,Ā isĀ all. āĀ blytheĀ admitted,Ā ā iĀ donātĀ know... iĀ knowĀ weāreĀ notĀ togetherĀ andĀ weāreĀ notĀ inĀ love,Ā butĀ iĀ stillĀ loveĀ you,Ā yāknow ? āĀ sheĀ gaveĀ aĀ slight,Ā helplessĀ shrug.Ā ā like,Ā obviouslyĀ youĀ donātĀ oweĀ meĀ anything,Ā butĀ itĀ stillĀ feelsĀ likeĀ aĀ slapĀ inĀ theĀ faceĀ seeingĀ youĀ allĀ closeĀ withĀ oneĀ ofĀ myĀ bestĀ friends. ā
aĀ beatĀ ofĀ silenceĀ stretched,Ā tautĀ andĀ humming,Ā filledĀ onlyĀ byĀ theĀ cracklingĀ ofĀ burning logsĀ andĀ theĀ distantĀ whisperĀ ofĀ windĀ throughĀ theĀ trees.Ā then,Ā theĀ smileĀ returnedĀ toĀ herĀ lips.Ā sheĀ leanedĀ inĀ justĀ aĀ fraction,Ā reachingĀ outĀ toĀ giveĀ hisĀ armĀ aĀ gentleĀ squeeze.Ā ā itāsĀ stupid,Ā iĀ know.Ā butĀ myĀ brainĀ isĀ aĀ mushyĀ messĀ rightĀ now. āĀ sheĀ tookĀ aĀ smallĀ stepĀ closer,Ā sighingĀ heavily.Ā ā iĀ just donātĀ thinkĀ myĀ nervesĀ couldĀ takeĀ itĀ ifĀ iĀ sawĀ youĀ lookingĀ atĀ eliza theĀ wayĀ youĀ usedĀ toĀ lookĀ atĀ me. ā
musa took in a breath, humming, "i still love you too, blythe." it was impossible not to, after all they'd seen each other through, after how in love he had been. he was afraid that he may never feel that way about someone else again. "liza and i are close, but not like that." he told her, "i've just been trying to be there for her with all this shit." and being around her made him feel better, safer, but that wasn't something he could say out loud ( especially not to blythe ) or even just to himself.
"it's not stupid." when she moved closer and squeezed his arm, he wrapped his arm around her shoulders ā first of all, she was probably pretty cold in just her pajamas. "i don't think i've ever looked at anyone the way i looked at you." musa murmured, "our relationship is... it's the only serious romantic relationship i've ever been in. i don't know what love even feels like outside of a what we had." it was his only point of reference. and even if he fell in love again, he knew it would be different than his relationship with blythe. you never forget your first love, that much was true, but it was especially hard to forget when your first love was blythe gonƧalves. "and, for what it's worth, a relationship is the last thing on my mind right now," he admitted, "too much other bullshit keeps comin' our way."

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it feels selfish, the thought that she doesn't know if she's capable of watching even her own back tonight, let alone anyone else's. the only things stopping her from drowning her sorrows in alcohol is the fear that everything inside might have been tampered with and the car keys weighing down her pocket. it's hard to believe that there was a time, not all that long ago, that she didn't crumble so easily, but now she always feels unsteady. she's broken down more times than she can count in the past few months, she's not sure how many more times she can put the pieces back together.
"me either," she says with a shrug, though she knows damn well that having the time had nothing to do with it, "but i'm glad you're okay. and like i said before, i'm here if you need anything. and i'm not going to stop reminding you. doesn't matter how easy you think you have it."
now it's her turn to deflect. her mind flashes back to her most recent conversations with ant, the comments he'd made a few weeks ago about therapy, the depression screener she'd taken and failed (or passed, if you were a glass half full kind of person). "i talked to ant a little, but i'm good. really," she insists, though now she can't look him in the eye, "i've got it all under control."
"i know," musa confirms with a nod, "and i've got your back too." and it's not that musa thinks he has it easy, because he's had it harder than most in a lot of respects, but right now? a lot of people in their circle, liza included, have it worse. and he knows it may only be a matter of time before he's lumped into the worse off group too, but for now, he's just glad he's well enough to be there for the others. to be there for liza, if she needs him.
he gives her a small smile as he jokes, "ant is great, but he's not a licensed therapist." not that he's going to therapy either at the moment, "i used to be in therapy. for a year or two as a kid. it... helped. well, i think it helped with some stuff." he tells her, about all he thinks he can admit about his childhood right now, "but i know it's not for everyone." his parents never went. they should have. but that was a battle musa would never win. "if you ever feel like it's not under control... there're options. though, i'm a medical professional, so maybe i qualify in some way. and like i said, you can always talk to me." he laughs quietly, "maybe we all need group therapy after this is all over." though, he can only picture that going disastrously. they might all kill each other in that scenario.
ććā”ććā no kool - aid , right ? āĀ georgiaās eyes grazed over the table for a moment, trying to see if that actually was an option. thankfully, musaās offer turned her attention to grabbing a cup instead of searching for punch bowls to tip out. if anyone could do it without setting for alarm bells, it was georgia ! ā since youāre offering. ā sharing the drink with musa on new yearās eve hadnāt been bad. it was something that would have happened regardless. right this very moment, for example. yet it was still nice to be doing it without any external forces at play.
valentineās day. maybe she should have asked for more information, because that really seemed like something. of course, her first instinct wasnāt that anyone was playing with anyoneās heart intentionally. they were all good people. just a miscommunication had happened somewhere. ā like, you talked on valentineās day ? ā and then went into elizaās room.
well there was the miscommunication ! mark that with red string. maybe. she wasnāt entirely sure on how to contribute to a conspiracy board.
ā yeah, sheās . . . ā georgia should know better. she shouldāve known on valentineās day. maybe it could have been a non issue by now. ā sheās okay. with tilly right now. ā at least, last time georgia saw her. ā iāll take her home tonight. let her blow off some steam now. ā
"definitely no kool-aid." musa replied with a soft snort, pouring some wine into another plastic cup and handing it to georgia. he bumped his plastic cups against hers gently, "cheers, i guess." cheers to nothing being horribly wrong yet.
"we talked at the dance, danced together a little bit," musa explained, "then we saw each other at liza and will's for a little." before he had gone to bed with liza ( platonically, of course ). "then," he paused, letting out a sigh, "i got a text from her tonight, but not actually her, y'know? the fake text to get me here was 'from her.'" which, anyone would know, would be enough to send him out into the woods. "i'll find her later, talk to her." clear the air? there wasn't even air to clear, really, at least not if you asked musa, but he wanted to make sure she was okay ā that they were okay. whatever okay meant between the two of them these days. "are you doing alright?" he asked georgia. it seemed like she was doing a lot of making sure other people were doing well tonight, he wanted to check in with her too.
once musa was close enough to him, anthony clapped a hand on his friend's shoulder, shaking him slightly. he was trying to keep up the charade that this was a perfectly normal situation for them to be in-- at a mysterious surprise party that they all apparently planned but definitely had no part in it.
"the odds are very fucking low," he says, voice just as quiet as his friend's, "why send fake texts to us if there isn't something more waiting for us at the end of the night?"
ant looks around for a moment, taking in the group that had accrued inside the cabin. his gaze snaps back to musa, brow furrowed, and shakes his head. "don't worry about it. thank god it was a party, right? but you should know-- blythe was not happy about you guys holding hands."
"yeah, but i can't figure out what the play is here..." maybe he should ask william or justice, both of them probably had a viable theory, "why a party? everything seems so... normal. well, besides the location." that part? a little bit terrifying. "i feel like we can't text ever again." he jokes, but there's also some really worry there. it seems they can't even communicate in person without being spied on.
he nods at anthony, trying to keep the casual grin on his face, practiced and measured, so that no one thinks anything is out of the ordinary. musa clicks his tongue, "yeah... i need to talk to her later." he looks at anthony, "nothing is happening between liza and me, for the record." and that's true, even if things feel a little different lately, "we're friends."
ā i'mĀ fine. āĀ sheĀ turnedĀ herĀ gazeĀ backĀ toĀ theĀ fire,Ā lettingĀ theĀ flamesĀ lickĀ atĀ theĀ cornersĀ ofĀ herĀ vision.Ā ā just...Ā stressedĀ overĀ allĀ thisĀ shitĀ goingĀ on. āĀ itĀ wasĀ aĀ convenientĀ excuse,Ā aĀ blanketĀ toĀ throwĀ overĀ theĀ realĀ monsterĀ at the party.Ā amelia'sĀ death,Ā theĀ messages,Ā theĀ constant,Ā gnawingĀ fearĀ -Ā itĀ wasĀ allĀ real,Ā butĀ itĀ wasn'tĀ theĀ reasonĀ herĀ heartĀ feltĀ likeĀ aĀ clenchedĀ fist.Ā ā iĀ justĀ feelĀ soĀ woundĀ up.Ā like,Ā soĀ onĀ edge.Ā it'sĀ makingĀ meĀ feelĀ fullyĀ psychotic. ā
herĀ attentionĀ remainedĀ fixedĀ onĀ theĀ flamesĀ andĀ theĀ smileĀ thatĀ hadĀ beenĀ aĀ fragileĀ shieldĀ dissolvedĀ completely,Ā leavingĀ behindĀ onlyĀ theĀ raw,Ā unvarnishedĀ landscapeĀ ofĀ herĀ bitterness.Ā ā youĀ know,Ā iĀ wishĀ youĀ wouldn'tĀ treatĀ meĀ likeĀ i'mĀ stupid.Ā you'reĀ totallyĀ addingĀ toĀ myĀ cortisolĀ levels, babe. ā
he kept his gaze trained on the side of her face, illuminated by the orange glow of the flame and the light seeping from the cabin behind them, "yeah. yeah, i definitely get that. all the valentine's bullshit and this fucked up surprise party... whatever the catch ends up being." it was enough to keep him on the brink most of the time, teetering on the edge of his fear. he felt like sometimes the stress was practically seeping out of his skin.
musa frowned and furrowed his brow then, shaking his head, "i don't think you're stupid, blythe, why would you say that?" her tone made him stand up straighter, shoulders tensing. he relented just a little, not outing what he knew or how, but acting as if he was simply picking up on context clues, "if this is about... me holding liza's hand, we're just friends." though, the words somehow felt wrong on his tongue, "we thought we were about to get murdered or something inside. wouldn't be the craziest twist."
sheĀ shouldĀ holdĀ himĀ toĀ aĀ higherĀ standard.Ā thatĀ wasĀ theĀ truth,Ā wasn'tĀ it ?Ā heĀ wasn'tĀ eliza.Ā no, heĀ wasĀ theĀ oneĀ whoĀ hadĀ tracedĀ patternsĀ ontoĀ herĀ skinĀ andĀ whisperedĀ loveĀ yousĀ intoĀ theĀ dark.Ā heĀ wasĀ theĀ oneĀ whoĀ hadĀ knownĀ theĀ architectureĀ ofĀ herĀ heart,Ā everyĀ beamĀ andĀ joist,Ā theĀ preciseĀ locationĀ ofĀ everyĀ faultĀ line,Ā everyĀ crackĀ thatĀ ranĀ deepĀ beneathĀ theĀ surface.Ā heĀ hadĀ beenĀ insideĀ theĀ houseĀ ofĀ herĀ soul.Ā andĀ yet,Ā sheĀ couldn'tĀ blameĀ him.Ā thisĀ wasĀ simplyĀ whatĀ menĀ did,Ā andĀ sheĀ couldn'tĀ faultĀ himĀ forĀ beingĀ soĀ terribly,Ā achinglyĀ predictable.
theĀ fireĀ inĀ theirĀ viewĀ crackled,Ā aĀ livingĀ thingĀ breathingĀ sparksĀ intoĀ theĀ velvetĀ darkĀ sky,Ā andĀ sheĀ watchedĀ itĀ forĀ aĀ longĀ moment,Ā tryingĀ toĀ ignoreĀ theĀ presenceĀ behindĀ her,Ā aĀ gravitationalĀ pullĀ sheĀ bothĀ resentedĀ andĀ craved.Ā finally,Ā sheĀ turnedĀ andĀ aĀ wryĀ smileĀ touchedĀ herĀ lips.Ā sheĀ raisedĀ herĀ gazeĀ toĀ meetĀ his,Ā andĀ oneĀ browĀ archedĀ inĀ aĀ curveĀ ofĀ disbelief.Ā ā i'mĀ surprisedĀ youĀ madeĀ theĀ tripĀ out...Ā iĀ wouldĀ haveĀ thoughtĀ yourĀ handsĀ wereĀ full. ā
"hands full? with what?" he played dumb, having told liza that he wouldn't let slip that she told him about blythe's feelings about their friendship as of late, "like work...? i would call off work for you, if you needed me." he would do a lot for blythe if she needed him. even all these years later, there hadn't been a romantic relationship that had come close to what he'd shared with her. still, among everyone he surrounded himself with now, she knew the most about him ā his brother's death, his family's inability to process things related to his brother, his crippling self-doubt and self-consciousness, some of the lies he told to climb the social strata. it scared him how much she knew about him, how much of himself he had trusted her with. those weren't things he had taken lightly and her feelings weren't something he would ever take lightly. he just hadn't anticipated that she still cared enough to be upset over the idea that he could have something going on with liza. "what's going on, blythe? are you alright?" he repeated, head tilting a little.

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there's a piece of liza, buried deep down, that knows something has shifted between her and musa. it's something more than the flirty back and forth they usually share, the easy conversation that flowed between them. she finds herself gravitating toward him when they're in the same space, comforted by proximity alone. she can't face it though, she won't. ant's comment about her and amelia not being together anymore had sent her into enough of a spiral, she didn't need to add potentially having feelings for someone new on top of it. especially considering that that someone was such a good friend, not to mention one of her best friends' exes.
"i don't know what we're going to do," she admits, though she knows none of them do. besides, it's not like she's the one who people are looking to guidance. she's never been the smartest of the group, never been considered a leader. it won't stop her from searching for answers, but she's sure someone else will reach twice as many good solutions before she comes up with even one viable one. "i'm really hoping that this party isn't leading up to some, like, really twisted present," her stomach has been knots over it, imagination running wild with possibilities, "and i have the sense that leaving isn't an option right now."
the deflection doesn't go unnoticed. it brings her mind back to the conversation she had with ant a few days ago, his honesty, her own unwillingness to sort through what was wrong. liza's hand find musa's before she can think twice about it, but why should she? they're friends. "if you're ever actually in a dark place, please tell me you'll call someone," her eyes look up into his, as if she's searching for an answer in them, "even if it's not me."
"i don't either." musa admits with a tired sigh. he's always been one step ahead. it's how he got to where he is, how he survived school and got himself into a good college. he always knows who the right people to talk to are, what skills he needs to learn to put himself in a position for success, places he needs to go to help things fall into place, but he can't predict what's coming next. he doesn't know what tag could possibly have in store. but he agrees, he sincerely hopes there isn't a catch to tonight, though there always seems to be a catch, "yeah. we gotta watch everyone's backs tonight, just in case. i don't trust a damn thing anymore." not that he's ever been particularly trusting, but he especially isn't now.
his hand curls around liza's ā practically its only position all night. he grins, small but genuine, eyes meeting hers, "i don't have time to be in a dark place." and it's true, really. he can't afford to hide right now with everything going on, plus his job is demanding and he can't let that out of his grasp. he's gotten used to turning the feelings off, it's practically all he's ever been told to do at home. "but, no, i'm fine. and if i was... i would talk to someone." he knows better than to deflect again, he doesn't want to make any of this even remotely more stressful for liza. he gives her hand a squeeze, "i have it easy compared to a lot of our friends." compared to liza especially right now, "are you talking to someone about all this? you've... well, i mean, it's been a really fucking shitty few months. you don't deserve any of this bullshit."
for @sundrifts by the front stoop of the cabin
"hey," he approaches blythe, hands in his pockets, he can hear the buzz of the party behind the front door and the quiet crackle of the fire out in the yard, "are you alright? you ran out and i didn't get a chance to check on you then... i wanted to see if you were okay." of course, he knows it was due to the fact that he and liza walked in holding hands, but in their defense, they had thought they were walking into a murderer's plot. they're just friends. just like musa and blythe are supposed to be just friends these days. as if he needs more to be confused about. "y'know, that's why i came out here in the first place ā to the cabin earlier, i mean. you ā well, fake you ā texted me and said we needed to talk." the message was cryptic, but enough to make him drive all the way out to the woods to make sure blythe was safe.