it was a busy night it seemed, bodies and bottles between tables and yet, he felt more alone than usual. even when buried in beats and bourbon, too much plagued his mind. the loss of the only parent who'd ever shown him warmth, the finalization of his divorce, the complete shift in the trajectory of his life. he was no longer throne-bound, no longer a competitor in what should've been his, family legacy aside. he'd worked for it, had sacrificed for it. and for what?

"it's open," he called out, head dipping toward the open space opposite of him. he wasn't the most inviting person in the room, but a part of him craved the shared space of another, even if he didn't know what to do with it. "bottle is too," he added, like the expensive label he nodded toward was an invitation if they chose to accept.

Pride might not have been an official holiday, but in Maya's book, it most definitely should have been. She wasn't really one for organised social events, especially one that was so colourful and happy, but Pride meant something to her. She had never struggled with coming to terms with her sexuality, but being surrounded by people and event designed to remind her just how proud she was of herself and others members of the community made her ice cold heart melt.

As she strolled along the vendor stalls, Maya couldn't resist the tropical looking drink with a palm tree around the rim and after handing over her cash, she carried on walking, sipping on the cocktail. "Well, this is delicious." She was not the girl who walked along talking to herself, but that was Pride Maya, but also Drunk Maya. The smells of the next stall made her stop and leaning over the shoulder of the person in front of her, the blonde strained to see what was being sold. "Please tell me there's food here, if there's tacos I might cry."

— LOCATION: Sullivan's Grocery Store

With the holidays quickly approaching, Noah was trying to get as much out as he could. A new freshly designed spot was taken up by the front window filled with different festive goods. Some of it handmade soap, simmer pot kits, and easy soup mixes.

Though, his current project was in front of the store. He finished hanging up the string lights, now twinkling in the dwindling sunset. "Hey, could you help me for a sec?" He asked the person next to him, turning to try to grab their attention. "Do you think those wreaths will look better by the door or closer to the window by the displays?"

𝑹𝑬𝑪𝑰𝑷𝑰𝑬𝑵𝑻 ⸺  4/4 characters.

𝑺𝑬𝑻𝑻𝑰𝑵𝑮 ⸺  the laundry basket, one afternoon

The hum of the dryers made it easy enough to pretend she wasn't listening, at least, until her name drifted across the laundromat. She hadn't even been back in town a week and already the gossip mill was running at full speed. Two locals folded clothes at the counter, talking just quietly enough to think they weren’t being heard... except she caught every word. "...you know, the girl who had that car accident and lost her memories? Her dad just passed, so now she's back running that old motel." A beat of silence, then a laugh— "Do you think she remembers us?" Nadia clenched her jaw, forcing herself not to rise to it. Not today. She was already this close to losing it and didn’t need another excuse to give in. This is Sedona, she reminded herself.. tight-knit, small town, and never shy about noticing everything.

"Okay, question: what is the right age for a sleepover? Asking for a friend and for myself, 'cause we both have no idea and nobody seems to agree." Elliott groaned in frustration, closing the parenting book he'd been skimming. "I'm so desperate I'm not even self-conscious about asking for your opinion."

Pushing a half-full buggy as she walked down the cereal aisle, Ainsley, unable to deny herself something to nibble on as she shopped for the upcoming week's groceries, brought a bag of goldfish up to the top of the cart and popped it open. She paused her walking to grab a box of Honey Bunches of Oats before her attention turned back to the now open bag of goldfish. Without any further thoughts, she reached in and took a small handful, tossing one up in the air and catching it with a triumphant grin as she began to move once more and continue her shopping.

She'd gone four for four when she realized she'd had an audience. Bashfully, she offered the other person a grin and a guilty shrug. "What?" She asked before continuing, "I'm going to pay for it, I promise. It's just been a long day and I'm starving."

Handshake after Handshake. Greeting after Greeting. Host duties had commenced. Looked like a significant turnout at the country club for the autumn soiree. And the naysayers thought they were slick, saying hardly anyone would actually come. It was all but a gimmick, they'd whisper under their breaths. A gimmick of what could be on the horizon of an increasingly opulent future for Sedona. Pointedly scanning around the party area, witnessing guests mingling, upbeat jazz music echoing around the room in full swing..how could anyone not want more of..this? To Levi, they’d be a fool otherwise. 

After all, this was a familiar environment he could thrive within. Used to, at least. His country club duties provided a promising future, yet also couldn’t rid him entirely from the ghosts of the past. After polishing off a flute glass from all the passing conversation, he’d already predicted the bar would be needing the most aid at the moment. Maneuvering his towering frame behind the counter, he began aiding in passing out drink orders the employees had to be making in record time. Naturally, he and the Parks figured the specialized drink menu would become a popular offering at the country club’s latest festivities. Not to mention, the opportunity gave his 'host voice' a slight relief for the time being. “I’m guessing this one would be yours, correct?” Levi surmised as the next guest approaced, all the while grabbing the next glass that slid his way. 

Kit was sat at the bar at the country club with her glass of wine at noon somewhere in the world, taking a sip with her ears open to the old bitties sitting next to her, engulfed in conversation. She wasn't in the conversation, but she was definitely in it. The scuttlebutt of Sedona had grown dry lately and Kit was bored.

So and so's husband can't get it up anymore, that one's grandson got kicked out of an Ivy League school, and another one's great-granddaughter is marrying an illegitimate prince from whereverstan. Kit was beginning to think the lives of the rich were drab and boring. Kit chuckled to herself. She was one of the rich after all. After her husband keeled over on top of a call girl in a cheap motel twenty years ago, Kathleen Calloway buried her ex-husband in a pine box in Potter's field, cashed out his life insurance policies, sold the house and moved to Sedona.

She even became a businesswoman, opening a shop with her sister, who moved with her, looking forward to finally being able to stop and smell the flowers. Now she grows them professionally and sells them to the many widows whose own husbands no doubt met their own deserved demise. Kit was deep in the drumming of her own thoughts when someone said her name.