#maliaplayer1

Adrenaline was a feeling Jack had reserved for the past. You know, that raw, jittery feeling that he often associated with getting so high that he could burst through the ceiling of his mind. And yet, here he was, experiencing this rush in real time and all because of Malia Davis. 

He had spent the first hour of her party pacing his home, contemplating what to wear and what to do. Does he show up and keep to himself, allow her to enjoy the festivities without the reminder of what was? Or does he stay home and send flowers the next morning the way any polite, slightly domineering man might do? Both options seem easy but somehow also calamitous. 

By some miracle, he leaves his home, driving down to Descanso Beach at a steady pace. When he arrives, parks, and heads onto the sand, the blaring sound of music and mingling strangers envelops him. He gets stopped by some familiar faces and fans, some ask for photos and some simply want to chat away. Though his eyes keep lingering elsewhere, in search for Malia. The music gets louder as he heads deeper into the party, neon paint flying. A body painter stops him mid-walk, practically screaming in his face. “Jack Adler! Come on down, man!” He has no choice but to oblige, plopping down onto the small seat accompanying the booth. The painter draws a bright pink neon heart on his cheek with an M on the inside. “To celebrate the birthday girl!” He calls out, handing Jack a mirror. 

He was really in for it tonight. 

And then he’s off again, weaving through dancing patrons. Finally, he sets his eye on a head of braids he knows all too well. The singer’s adrenaline kicks in once more and suddenly he’s acting on pure impulse. He walks over, leaning toward the man she had been speaking with. “Mind if I borrow her?” Jack says over the noise, his gaze resting on Malia the entire time he speaks. 

Gabby: since I wont be making an appearance on your party but did not forget you...

Gabby: happy birthdayyyy

Miles had been here a few times to know the drill; there probably was new game that required testing and he was here for that. It still baffled them how he had gone from a fan to scoring this sweet sweet opportunity, he must’ve done something right. The closer he got to the front doors, the harder it became to maintain composure. This truly was the adult version of a kid in a candy store, though Miles would have a similar reaction in a candy store too. An attempt was made to curb the excitement he felt, after all he had to maintain some sort of professionalism now, even if the last time they made a virtual mess, this was still a professional environment, not the arcade. 

Walking into Davis Gaming Company with a poker face was successful right until he stepped into the elevator. It was pure luck that he was alone for the squeal that echoed in the confined space was loud enough to deafen anyone, but once the door opened he quickly smoothed down expressions back into a neutral smile, shooting finger guns at the familiar faces that walked by. 

Finding Malia’s office, he knocked and poked his head in, “You called for me, boss? What game we testing today?”

With a backpack filled with unfinished, unreleased games, Flynn plops down in Malia’s office, ​removing his bag from his shoulders. “I have many thoughts, Malia. Many.” He says, repeating himself as a form of emphasis. Malia had been a friend for years and years. It was a miracle they remained in each other’s lives, even after Flynn dated Maylee, Malia’s youngest sister. Perhaps their true bond relied in the likes of the late Tommy, someone Flynn missed dearly. Flynn had never lost a friend like that and a part of him believes that’s when he truly grew attached to Malia. Instinctually, he felt the needed to look after her in the wake of Tommy’s death.

So, here they were, years later. “The apocalypse style one was the best, honestly. The storyline was really good. I do think it needs some more cut scenes between gameplay. You know, to further the storytelling and all that.” Smugly, he smirks, “I also think there should be some character redesign in at least one of these games. I need a character to look like....well, me. I’d make a great video game character. What do you think?”

It was pamper day for Maya and Malia, the two taking this time to rejuvenate their tired senses. Maya certainly needed it, that she knew for sure, though her stubbornness may beg to differ. Malia was just behind her while Maya looked into the large bathroom mirror, rinsing some hair dye out of her dark hair. Thanks to age and mostly likely stress, she’s spotted a few random grey hairs decorating her scalp recently. “God, I can’t believe this,” Maya mumbles, leaning in closer to her reflection, stroking the newly dyed strands. “I’m starting to look like my father.” A sigh sounds from her before she turns to Malia, “How’re you doing, M? Should we print out a picture of Jack and throw darts at it? After we can have ice cream. I brought over every flavor you can think of.”

The rest ten minutes had been spent chasing the twins around, pretending to be a monster. He releases make believe growls, threatening to tickle them once he catches up. Though, he never goes, allowing the twins to stay ahead of him. 

“Jesus, do you do this all day?” Flynn asks, out of breath, once he reaches Malia at the kitchen island again. The kids are running circles around him now, giggling out of their minds. “The monster’s takin’ a break, kiddos!” He calls before taking a seat opposite of her, reaching for another slice of pizza. He plops it down onto a paper plate. “Sooo,” He starts in a sing-songy fashion, his gaze darting between Malia and his pizza. “What’s happening for your birthday, hm? Are we partying or what?”

It was the sight of an old, forgotten wine bottle hidden inside the back of a deep cabinet that broke something in Jack. Watching his mother take it in her grasp, moving to the sink to pour it out entirely, was like torture. A strange impulse like a burning fire kicked in, Jack wanting to lunge forward and grab the bottle and run. He’d take what he could get, he knew that, a secret shared with only him when he was alone again. 

The curtains to his emotions were finally drawn back, shining a light on the emptiness that makes a home inside his stomach. It begins to grow, spreading like roots buried beneath soil. It was there to stay, undying. Jack hated carrying around this weight, the knowledge that he wasn’t fine. That, too, was torture. He’d spend his days like in the movies. Big smiles, throaty laughs, and then he’d slip into bed at the end of the night and feeling a heaviness. A heaviness he couldn’t shake. It envelops him, swallowing him whole. 

So, with all his might, he accepts whatever fate allows. And, this time, fate was not kind and he knew this much was true. He heads to Malia’s. Once he’s there, he sits in his car for what feels like ages. When he finally comes to, he walks up to her front door, knocking gently. 

Jack [11.12pm]: Hey, just wanted to let you know that I called and Tahlia ended up picking up...

Jack [11.12pm]: We had a very fruitful conversation, actually.