#narcotlcs

Had this been what the others would call hell? Another world, another time. Another era. He had read about the old west in history books and fantasy novels. The books he'd read his sister late at night when she couldn't sleep and all she wanted was her big brother at her side when their mother was off doing whatever it was that kept her away late at night and well into the days. The old west. He had dreamed about it once. Even played one of those dumb little games with Octavia as cowboys when she was little and he was still in his youth. Something to pass the time and keep her entertained, not only that, but it taught her so much that years later, she had got a horse with her boyfriend, Lincoln. Helios. Another thing that she got from him. Another thing he had taught her when she was young. She'd love this place and it's form of travel and he couldn't help but think of the way she would look like a Princess in one of the carriages along the road, but would she be proud of him and his choices? Would she be worried about where he had disappeared off to? Why he hadn't come home or given her a signal that he was swept away onto a mission and he had to go dark? If there's one thing he's kept hidden away with his modern style clothing at the camp had been his cell phone. It had stopped working long ago, but it held memories. It held photos of him and Octavia. Of Jasper and Monty. Of Lincoln. It also held text messages and her last one had been asking about Felix and if he wasn't to be some place Bellamy was heading before being whisked away to a world he only understood in books. A text that made him laugh and roll his eyes. A text that he knew was her being nosy now that Lincoln was gone.

                      there  are  parties  that  happen  around  campus  ,  always  ones  that  you  would  go  to  and  there  would  be  some  kind  of  regulations  &  narcissa  ,  while  she  had  liked  them  ,  she  had  craved  something  more  .  she's  clad  in  something  her  mother  would  absolutely  die  over  something  ,  body  displayed  so  perfectly  in  curves  of  black  .  she  steps  into  the  house  ,  one  that  she  had  been  told  held  the  best  party  &  drugs  possible  ,  looking  around  her  for  the  host  .  she's  heard  about  him  ,  secrets  &  rumors  ---  even  being  told  that  he  was  nothing  but  myth  .  

Rylan would be the first to admit when she doesn’t know someone but wishes to spend more time with them. Felix was one of those cases. She had spent plenty of time around different types of personalities. Everyone was different, there was no denying that, especially in this world. Her father was more of the type to blunt but secretive. He didn't wear any type of emotion on his sleeve and she can't recall a moment that she saw anything out of him except for the basics of happiness and sadness. He wore a mask that hid everything so well. So well that she used to be envious of such an act. How was he so good at it when the rest seemed so terrible? A question she later discovered the answer to. Her mother, on the other hand, wore her emotions on her sleeve. She cried when she felt sad and she shown different tones of happiness when they presented themselves to her. She wasn't so much an emotional person but she wasn't afraid to let the world see just exactly how she felt. It was how she raised her three kids, even if each of them were different. Rylan was in between the two of them in that aspect. Drawing from them both. Though, she also had the personalities of those in the shop as well. Having been a cheerleader in high school and grown into a young woman who knew that she looked good, had made her grow used to being seen as nothing more than a piece of meat, especially on the shop floor. It was different world in there. A world where men dominated and expected to be treated like Gods. She wanted to show that Goddesses existed too. It wasn't just a penis fest when it came to cars and other sorts of vehicles.

When she had first met Felix on the job. She enjoyed the banter she had with him. The way they could be flirtatious together while she was under the hood of his car. He was tall. Attractive and could make her laugh. All surface things that she was attracted to but it made her want to get to know him more. To spend that time with him and see just how far they could go with this. He seemed cool, even if his car wasn't but that was, yet again, another surface thing. Cars could be changed with work and, unfortunately, money as well but she could do all that with her eyes closed, all he had to do was ask. The thought of it was something that made her heart warm. This was what she liked about her job, even if it made her father mad. She liked helping others who couldn't even change a tire or had the funds to pay for the full fix. She liked knowing that she could get their vehicle fixed up and ready to continue the journey from point A to point B or C. A vehicle could be an extension of a person, something she was no stranger of knowing. She had seen plenty of people pass through the shop who would beg and plead for a payment plan or some type of bargain and she would see how her father would treat them. Something she'd never want to do to another person if she could help.

There were times when the various forms of ghostly activity that plagued Shiloh would take a silent and sneaky approach with her, leaving her paranoid when it came to turning corners or opening closet doors, and other times it was given to her with foreboding expectancy. On this night, after she’d spent the evening hanging out on the beach with Felix, Hunter, and some of their other friends, it was the latter. The stairwell was echoing with the sound of footsteps and the faint whisper of heavy breathing, shadows dancing along the walls in the form of a slow-pacing man and reaching hands. The brunette knew the sounds and the telltale visuals all too well, and so there wasn’t a single doubt in her mind that when she went up those stairs, she would see him; the ghost with the twisted face, his mouth warped into an unnatural grin and his empty eye-sockets stretched out like they’d been pulled on. He might try to grab her again, or he might just stand there and stare at her. His purpose? She still didn’t know. He never spoke, only groaned and wheezed under his breath, and so she could never communicate with him.

Because Shiloh knew what awaited her in the stairwell, she’d told Felix to leave her alone that night. He’d driven her home once again, and while she’d played around in her head with the possibility of having him come up with her to hang out for a bit, the supernatural activity that was swirling through the stairwell was enough to make her change her mind completely. It wasn’t remotely surprising to her when Felix had protested and pushed the idea further though, repeatedly requesting that she re-think her decision until she’d been left with no choice but to get stern with him and snap. “No. I said no. Okay? Seriously, fuck off. Go home!” With that, she’d turned and began her ascent up the staircase, but her confidence was instantly shaken as soon as she’d had to turn the first corner, her footsteps becoming cautious as she glanced around the corner before taking it in full.

After climbing the first two floors, Shiloh saw him. The ghost that had been following her since she was a child stood on the landing of the third floor, staring down at her with both of his hands outstretched. He was groaning out some muffled words, his voice gruff and full of anger and frustration, but the noises he made were never anything more than just that; noises. Never a complete sentence.

Shiloh’s blood ran cold, her muscles tensing as she froze at the bottom of the staircase. “Go away,” she whispered. “Leave me alone.” She took a step back then as the apparition moved towards her, beginning his slow descent to where she stood, and then his footsteps began to hasten. As he got close, she bolted, turning to move past him and heading as quickly as her short legs would carry her up the stairs. She stopped, however, when he’d managed to grasp at her ankle, his firm hold yanking her off of her feet and back down the steps. There were only two times prior to this that he’d ever managed to make contact with her, but this was by far the most prominent. She screamed as she slid back down onto the landing, immediately beginning to scramble away across the floor before she was tugged back over to him. A short grappling match took place as the brunette squirmed beneath his hold, his hands always searching for her face whenever he’d managed to pin her down for a moment, and then she’d managed to clamber away up the steps. She was yanked down one more time before she’d escaped and Mr. Smiley dissipated.

When Shiloh stopped on the landing of the sixth floor to catch her breath, her entire body trembling and quiet sobs cracking in her throat, she’d noticed Felix. He had followed her, and judging by the look on his face as he approached her, she assumed that he’d caught some of that altercation. “What are you doing here?” She snapped, her tone venomous and full of fire. Her nerves were still on edge, all of her emotions mixing at a boiling point and falling onto the tattooed male. She was about to take everything out on him, and she knew it. She could feel it happening. She was about to push him away, just as she knew that she would. And he would run.

“I told you to leave. Are you stupid? I told you to fuck off! Fucking go! Stop following me!” Shiloh yelled at him, backing away towards the next set of stairs. Her chocolatey eyes were brimming with tears, spilling over the edges with every blink of her long lashes and causing the drops to roll down her scuffed cheeks. Along her cheekbone, a bruise was already forming, her chin suffering from an abrasion that was likely caused by the rough edges of the old cement stairs. The rest of her body hadn’t been spared either, her bare legs and arms speckled with various cuts, scrapes and bruises. It was minor in comparison to the injuries that she could have sustained, however, had Mr. Smiley been able to stick around a little longer.

The wall behind her stopped Shiloh from backing away any further, her back making contact with it and halting her escape. There was a scowl on her face, but the resolve of her anger was slowly cracking as she stared into Felix’s blue eyes, her lips trembling as she fought the sobs that were slowly slipping through the cracks in her armor. “Go. Away.” She spoke the words one more time, the anger and frustration and hurt all burning bright in the tone of her shaky voice. She’d thought for sure then that he would leave, perhaps after yelling at her, but instead, he asked her a simple question.

‘On a scale of one to ten, exactly how mad are you at me?’

Shiloh paused, confusion swirling itself into the mix of emotions that were already running through the chaos of her mind and etching itself into her features. “What?” She asked, a quiet sob causing a hitch in her breathing. After what he’d just seen, he was asking her if she was mad at him? She didn’t know if he was trying to make a joke, or if he was simply trying to survey the situation to see if he could approach her, but regardless, it had made her start to smile. She’d tried to mask it with a look of impressment and a tilt of her head, but the hint of a grin was still visible.

‒‒‒‒‒‒‒‒‒‒  ALWAYS QUICK TO ASSUME IT’S his fault? Oh, absolutely he’s correct about THAT assumption, but the truth of the matter was, it just felt like something Felix would do -- how else was he supposed to evaluate the situation? Maybe if it were the inclusion of sirens outside the home, he’d be more willing to think it was another neighbor who’d messed up (with rich idiots always doing something nefarious underneath the radar, it wouldn’t shock him), but this time, it was a family vase just SHATTERED on the floor, something that he knew his father would be freaking out about.

      Should Jake have yelled at him -- the answer is unknown currently as quivering digits grab hold of giant shards of ceramic. Currently, the butlers and maids were all in attendance at his father’s little party downstairs, something he couldn’t bring Felix INTO but he’d decided to be nice (for once) and bring him inside to get some alcohol bottles from below ; his father and mother were known drinkers, but they weren’t going to fault the younger brother for taking some for himself -- so long as it wasn’t the vintage ones that were for their anniversaries. Truthfully, it was the one thing in this home he could accomplish without his shoulders shaking so long as he permitted his entry with messaging instead of face-to-face confrontation.

       -- it also helped he’d messaged his mother, the lesser of the two evils.

       It’s soft, barely there, but after the rebuttal that Jake didn’t know if it was him who’d broken the vase, his breath attempted to steady itself, failing miserably as feeble tries were made to piece back together this family relic. ❝ He’s going to kill me... ❞ Voice whispered this remark, head snapping up to send a stare toward Felix ; it wasn’t a glare filled with venom but one of pleading for assistance here. They were going to grab booze for the other, but this....was far more important than anything. Even if Felix hadn’t broken it behind Jake’s back and it’d been some freak accident by a maid or butler who’d been wandering through and decided to pretend not to see it, this would come back on JAKE, not them or Felix or his mother -- Jake.

      ❝ Just...just help...pick it up -- all of it... ❞ What were they going to do? Get glue and hope for the best? At this point, he didn’t care anymore if it was his fault ; he’d blame him, yeah, and he would forever until it became a joke but this time, he needed the shitty, ugly, overly priced thing fixed NOW. ❝ Even if you didn’t break it, you’re going to fix it with me. ❞ It wasn’t outwardly a command either, but from the trembling of his hands, the remark was of desperation ; he couldn’t do it quickly on his own -- there wasn’t anyway he’d manage it! The gaudy thing had too many CHUNKS.

      ❝ Do this and you can have whatever the fuck you want from me. ❞

Anger pulses through her. A sensation that she doesn't really let herself feel often. Rylan could control it for the most part. The anger she got was definitely a trait her father passed down, considering how gentle and kind her mother always was. Rylan remembers the first time she witnessed her parents fight. The way her father's anger flared out and the way his gaze changed, as if fire was settled in his light hues. It scared her. Made her want to be scooped up by her oldest sister and swept away to safety but she knew that would never happen. It's why, when years later passed, she made sure to always scoop up Max from this sight. Never wanting her baby brother to experience the same thing she had back then. The anger that was so pure. So feral, that she wondered if her father was going to sprout horns and become some kind of monster. It's the same anger that lives her veins and she knows that. It's why she used other things to keep herself calm. She could be as fierce as a storm that raged just outside of shore or as calm as the wind when it gently passed through trees.

That was the thing, however, that Rylan was not nearly the same force as her father. She did not harbor his height or his weight. Nor had the same muscle definition he did. She was tiny. Thinly built and petite in size. She loved any shoe that gave her that extra inch, even regular old converse gave her something aside from just standing flat footed on the ground. Which, is why when she was pitted against someone that felt like a giant, others couldn't help but laugh. It's why her job in the shop could sometimes be a joke, having to use a step ladder just to get up to some engines, depending on what type of vehicle it was that was brought it. This guy? She didn't give a fuck how tall he was or how much of a brick wall he looked like. The words that fell from his disgusting lips had made her blood boil and had igniting the anger that she normally kept under wraps. No one had a right to talk to any form of living, human being the way this man had spoke and she had darted her eyes to the darts that sat next to him, debating how much force her anger would give her to stab one through the palm of his hand or maybe his shoulder.

It was a rainy Friday afternoon, the evening sky grey with heavy, rolling clouds that billowed over the city, hiding what was left of the day’s sunshine behind a gloomy haze. While in many settings, the sound of the rain on a window pane and the rumble of distant thunder could be soothing and even cathartic, Shiloh had rarely ever been able to find any peace within a storm. With the eerie figures that often watched her from the shadows or stared at her from the kitchen with a knife in their hand, storms were more unsettling than anything, and it was in the flickering flashes of lightning and the pitter-pattering of raindrops that the ghosts that haunted her became the loudest. It was like something straight out of a corny horror movie, and Shiloh never wanted to stick around for the unnecessary torment.

With her jacket zipped up and an umbrella over her head, Shiloh had headed out for the evening, hoping to kill enough time for the storm to pass by going for a walk and picking up some takeout. After she’d gotten into the vestibule of her apartment building, however, she’d pulled out her phone and texted Felix instead, asking him if he was busy or interested in having some Taco Bell. It was impulsive and a part of her instantly regretted it, but she’d been thinking about him more than she’d wanted to admit recently, and she’d caved after a few days of resisting too much contact.