"Oh no it's pretty clear why nobody here wants to give you a job, actually, because most of us remember exactly the kind a' person ya are." It's declared rather flatly, as Rusty does his best to disengage the conversation. "You better than most know how long a grudge holds in a place like this'n, Calhoun."

"Fuck me, PJ-" Rusty stops on his heels, turning to shoot a glare over his shoulder.

"Rusty- right, sorry, my bad- I'm going insane with nothing to do, alright? I'll take whatever-"

"Well then ya can pester folk who ain't me. Learn an' change all ya want, but I ain't forgot the way you treated folk. Way you looked at me an' my husband like we were a sideshow, kinda words you had fer people like us- you know, I've half th- mind to-" He stops, reeling himself in as another person approaches their... very public argument outside the outdoors shop. "Evenin' Bri." He greets- tone kind once more- as Ziggy chokes on his words. Rusty looks between them. Scoffs. "Have th' day ya deserve, Calhoun."

"I- Brianna?" it's disbelief, really- last he'd heard of her, she'd been famous, making albums, selling out arenas. And now, on the cragged sidewalk of their hometown- Brianna Ryan was the one ghost he'd hoped no longer haunted this place. "I thought you were... I thought you woulda been-" He almost wants to go back to arguing with Russell- the other man's nowhere to be found now. "you... you look... good. uh. Christ."

@violenttempest