dark days

+ TATE THE LAST CHAPTER

“It’s not the worst,” Charlie begins, eating a slice of pizza atop one of the check-out counters of The Last Chapter, “but I think you could use more science books in the kids section.” She looks over at Tate with a nod, “I recommend getting some more content on the basics of astronomy and our solar system to start.” She picks up the scanner and swipes it over another book, careful not to get grease on the spine as she helps her brother with inventory after hours. “Oh and Mom says we should stay with Del.” Charlie mentions as casually as she might say oh, by the way, it’s raining outside. @tatexstanley​

tate doesn’t mind taking advise about his store, he knows he needs all the help he can get so as soon as charlie mentions the science books he scribbles it on the back of his hand to remember. “right...good idea. i was thinking about the kids section in general and i kinda think maybe there should be some couches? or like somewhere kids can sit and read? make it like a library-like book store? would you have liked that as a kid?” he asks, hopeful for charlie’s input before he passes over an order sheet. “if there’s any books there put a tick next to them and then i’ll figure out the mon-huh?” he’s cut off by the mention of del and laughs slightly. “wait what? why? oh my god i’m gonna have to sleep in the doll-room again aren’t i?”

-

Is Casey being too obvious? Surely, Tate can see her heart right there in her eyes, a soft, frankly too fond smile settling on her lips while he talks about how songs and poetry are one in the same. What a terrible cliche this is. She’s in love with her best friend, and for whatever reason, it feels like it’s a secret that’s growing harder to maintain. Of course, she will maintain it, feeling as if she doesn’t have any other choice. It is a difficult position to be put into. Of wanting to sing her love from the mountain tops, yet having a debilitating fear of ruining a friendship that’s run the course of her entire life. “No, that’s exactly right. You’re so right. I’d love that. They’d love that,” Casey says, in too much of an awe to form a more coherent thought. Why is he so perfect? It’s no secret she looks for him in every guy she meets, making unfair comparisons and finding herself disappointed when the poor gentleman she’s trying to get to know doesn’t meet the Tate sized expectation she’s set for him. Tate wouldn’t have said that. Tate would’ve found this funny. Tate. Tate. Tate. Maybe this is why she’s destined to be alone. Who can compete with someone who has had her heart for this long – unrequited or not? He is the bright spot in her day, the music in her soul. But in a position like this, you have to learn to make peace, and that is exactly what she’s done. There will come a day when there’s a girl who makes Tate feel all the ways Casey feels about him, and Casey, being the less fortunate of the two, will be happy that her best friend is happy. She will try, even if it kills her. And yet again, she gets too carried away. “Okay, I might have to stop you there,” She laughs, but she can’t help but feel incredibly touched that his passion for this reaches the levels of hers. “I have five classes including my homeroom class, and there’s about twenty to twenty five kids in each class. If you think we can handle it, we can just do the little personalized poems for my favorite, most well behaved class as a little something special. Like I’m afraid if we try to do a poem for all of my students, we’ll be working on this until they graduate from high school,” She smiles at her own joke. Her face grows warmer, a faint blush rising in her cheeks. “Thank you. I think you’d be the best dad, and I’m not just saying that because you said I’d be the best mom first. I mean it,” She says assuredly. “It’s only half of the reason why I asked you to do this, anyway. I wouldn’t just trust anyone around my kiddos. Being the mom friend or the dad friend of the friend group is a requirement.”

love seems so easy when you’re reading it with metaphors and adjectives. tate loves watching love dance across the chapters of books, but when it comes to seeing casey the words fail him. every. single. time. “yeah!? so that’s the plan? we got a plan?” he says excitedly, staring back at her with the same awe and his heartbeat is dashed in his chest like it’s forming morse code. probably spelling out a very obvious i love you but he doesn’t think casey realizes and that’s why he can’t ever tell her. he laughs through the embarrassment of getting ahead of himself but casey always knows how to make embarrassment or shame disappear, she never judges and he smiles to her. “you’re right, i didn’t even think. but should we pick favorites? imagine watching other kids get a cool poem being sung to them. that’s like getting picked last for teams.” he laughs but cringes all at once. “i think if we do a poem about each class and their strengths then that’s just five poems we gotta do? easy!?” he gives her a hopeful shrug before he laughs. “i don’t know, i don’t think of myself as a dad friend. i’m kind of disorganized. i got good dad jokes, though. like the bear one!? did i tell you it?” he beams to her and clears his throat. “a bear walks into a bar and asks the barman for a whiskey and......coke. the barman says: why the big pause?” he grins and then grabs the pen and flips open his notebook to try and see their plan of action in writing. he scribbles quickly casey + tate’s poem songs at the top and then slides his hand down a few lines. “okay so, when are the best days for you to come over? or me go to you? maybe me go to you, because you’ll have all the cool music things. and i’m used to carrying books everywhere so it doesn’t bother me. and well, i’m free pretty much...all the time. a lot.” because he’ll always clear his schedule if there’s something for casey and him to do together but she doesn’t need to know that part.

Millie nodded in agreement but she had to think when he asked if they’d ever been in a relationship. She was sure there was at least one, but couldn’t pinpoint one that stood out. “I think the closest thing they have to a relationship is whatever Frankie, Stevie, and them are, but then there’s also…” she sucked in a breath. “You know what, I don’t know. I think they don’t like to put labels on anything. Just like they pretend they hate everyone, but actually care about a lot of people that also care about them. Del is complex.” Or complicated. Both. Millie loved them to pieces regardless. She emptied the last few books out of the box and straightened them a couple more times before she answered again. “I think both are very doable, but start little then work big if that makes you more comfortable, sweetie. We can go around and check them out all incognito like whenever you want.” Millie let out a small laugh and started breaking down the box to recycle. Her eyes lit up at her son’s slip, but tried to hide that she noticed with a cough. At least one Stanley would have chance at romance and maybe a happy ending. Heaven knows the rest of them were not doing particularly great in that department. “I think that would be wonderful, you and Casey. You two always knock it out of the park when you’re together.” And they did, she wondered if they knew how much they liked each other. Millie wouldn’t say anything until one of them mentioned it, however. Moms always kill chemistry, it was some sort of unwritten law somewhere. “You almost ready?”

tate laughs about his pibling because del is strange but she’s also family, and there’s a lot of reasons why that’s important to him. “like...a coven? they meet under full moons only, listen to fleetwood mac?” he laughs to poke some harmless fun but the more he thinks about it, he can envision all three of them around a cauldron. stevie and frankie the ones trying to stop del turning the contents into a cursed potion. there’s a story there, he then thinks and wishes his notebook was at hand so he can scribble it down. “oh i love that.” he turns to his mom excited, pointing at her. “only if we do the whole fake mustaches and trench coat thing. and some aliases and do a little back story for who we are.” he laughs even though there’s no need for the dramatics but it’s funny to imagine, and he knows his mother will go full throttle into any idea. it’s why she’s the best and deserves nothing but happiness. he finishes up the job, more rushed than he usually would be simply so they can get out the door. he almost forgets his coat, and moves away from the door so he can fetch it. “yeah? you think?” he grins, sliding on the coat and thinking about casey again. “i think it’s all her really, she has the best ideas. i just...go along for the ride.” and so he can see her smile. he gently touches his mom’s arm to walk with her to the door. “yeah let’s get outta here, best thing about it is me being able to clock out whenever i want.”

-

“Thanks, glad to know I left a lasting impression.” Del deadpanned to their nephew, glaring at him for a moment. Sometimes, she wondered how he was related at all but she could definitely see hints of Millie in his soul. He was kind, and sometimes a bit of a worrier. Groaning at him, she rolled her eyes dramatically and flopped on the counter as if she had been shot. “Tate, for Christ sake. You sell it for fifteen, we’d be buying it for less.” they speak into their elbow, tired. Life only springs back into Del when Tate dared to call their novel a sci-fi, and their head bounced up with a look of pure thunder. “It’s not time-travel, Tate. It’s a carefully constructed metaphor of generational trauma and patriarchal ideals.” Del scoffed harshly, in disbelief at what they were hearing. “Sci-fi. Great, now I want to burn every fucking copy I’ve ever sold.”

“well, you know i can only read horror when it’s daylight so...that kind of narrows down when i can get the reading done.” tate smiles, but he absolutely has read all of his pibling’s releases because they’re a fascinating writer and if the goal is to scare the reader, then del nailed it because tate had to pace himself through every chapter. “how am i supposed to know? this whole collection thing is new to me. how about i just follow your lead? but i’m not made of money...the store kind of took...more than we thought to get it ready.” tate admits with a sigh, but he doesn’t want to admit him and his friend still are struggling. that’d be embarrassing. “right...no i got that but it still is depicted as time travel which could easily place it in a sci-fi category. like merry shelley, right?” he shrugs because she’s one of the greats and he thinks del will appreciate the comparison. “that’s a little dramatic, del.”

-

Casey lives comfortably in her what ifs, and she has no tangible what if that’s bigger than Tate Stanley. He is a what if that’s always within reach, that seems possible when she thinks about it, that seems impossible when she thinks even harder. If there’s one undeniable, completely indisputable truth, it’s that he’s her person. They get each other, and isn’t that all that anybody wants? To have somebody who understands them and stays? All the good, all the bad, all of the little mundanes in between, she wants to share them all with him. Always has, even when they were both just little kids learning their way through a great, big world.  But she looks at him now, inhabited with a private awe she suspects will never go away. “You do?” Casey asks, her excitement captured in her growing smile as she watches him flip through one of the books she’d picked up. She takes a moment to rest in her gratitude, to be able to look at him and take him in while he’s briefly preoccupied. She can hear it then, the sweet hum of a melody in her ear of yet another song about him. It’s nothing earth shattering, just a few words that’s too lyrical to be just another thought. “Yes, practice is a very good idea,” She nods in agreement, and not because she’ll gladly take any and every opportunity to spend time with Tate. “Let me tell you, kids are brutally honest, and they are the toughest critics. If we suck, they will have no problem whatsoever telling us we suck. I’m also pretty certain they can smell fear, so fair warning. I’ll tell them to be nice, though,” She teases, though there is absolutely some truth behind her words. There’s nothing quite like getting your feelings desecrated by a six year old with missing baby teeth. “You’d do that?” Casey asks, her heart melting. Of course he would, but it sends her brain into a creative spiral. “What if… wait, hold on,” She says, taking a second to put her thoughts in order. “What if we still read them a book, maybe one or two, and then the grand finale is a story you write about Miss Callahan’s music class?” Her eyes light up as she explains her idea. “Or, what if we take requests from the class right then and there and come up with little songs on the spot? Or do you think that’s too much? That might be too much. Also, I don’t want to put us both on the spot like that,” She reconsiders. It would be cool, but could they actually pull it off?  “I mean, I am the greatest mind of our generation. It just sort of comes naturally, you know?” Casey shrugs as if it’s nothing before breaking into natural laughter. “Can you believe people leave me in charge of their children?” 

it’s easy to get lost in casey when she begins talking, because her eyes light up with a passion and zest for life which is infectious and engaging. the way she talks about music reminds tate of when he finds a book that captures his imagination and casey callahan is the most amazing composition of stories he has ever read. she’s impossible to put down and each page is like a new fantasy. he smiles as she speaks, nodding and catching her excitement. “we can handle them, you’d probably be able to make a song about their insults.” he laughs but he does believe casey has the gift to make everything into pretty sounding melodies. “when you think about it, poems are basically songs without the music. i mean sure poems don’t really have a bridge or chorus but some do, but they all have a rhythm, right? so i just know you’re going to find it easy to put music to words. i can think up some poems about the class, or maybe...” he’s on the same wavelength now of excitement and begins clearing the counter top so he can grab a notepad and start jotting down their thoughts as they pop out of their mouths. “ok so, how many students do you have? because, we could probably write little songs about each student and something about their personality? you know how snoop dogg did the positive affirmations things for kids? we could do something like that but it’s tailor made to the students and the class.” maybe they’ve bitten off more than they can chew but most things feel possible when he’s with casey, in fact everything feels possible apart from telling her that he loves her. “i’d trust you with my kids, for sure. you’d be the best mom.” he hopes that doesn’t sound strange, she knows what he means he’s sure of it. 

.

“I think so, but I also think they secretly like each other kind of like those, what do you call them, um, hateships.” She heard one of the kids at the high school describe it that way from one of their fanfictions. Millie still hadn’t wrapped her head around fanfiction but maybe that was a good thing. Some things were out of her wheelhouse and she was more than okay with that. “It’s cute. Maybe her fans will be into that sort of thing, you never know.” Dark humor was something Millie did get whether it was from growing up in a haunted hotel, having a sick mother, or Del as a sibling. Something about it just made things easier to deal with when it all got to be too much to handle. “Hush now, I love helping out. No harder than usual,” if she didn’t have Charlie and Drew at home she would certainly start picking up extra hours or get a second job just so she could put off seeing Cade, however she did not want her children alone with him if she could help it. “It will be the best bookstore in the state, or at least the city. I’m so proud of what you’ve done with it so far, sweetie.” The Last Chapter had already come so far, she just knew her son and his friend would be successful. “Maybe you could team up with the bakery. What about those drag queen story time things, that seems fun. Or get little Casey to do music while you read the books to the kids. I bet that would be a big hit.” Those two were quite the dynamic duo when they got together. 

“ahh, like enemies to lovers. i couldn’t think of a better trope for del.” tate laughs, but he doesn’t want to think too much into it. del was family first and foremost so the idea of them being romantic was a stale thought, and strange. he couldn’t imagine del being the loving type either. “has del ever had a relationship?” he was thinking about it now, because for most of his life he remembers del either away for book things or sitting in their huge home alone and only appearing when they had to. tate gives his mother another smile, knowing that she is his number one supporter even if she slightly elevates his capabilities to sound better than they are in his opinion. “state is a push but i could definitely aim for city, that seems...doable, right? i guess i need to hit all the other bookstores and see what they’re doing and then see how we can make it different or better.” he says his thoughts while he continues to unpack but doesn’t want to make it obvious to millie that the sales deplete each month. his mother’s ideas make him smile again and he nods, mentally noting them so he can think about them more. “i love all of those, especially casey.” he says without thinking. “the idea about casey,” he then corrects himself. “the idea of casey coming here to sing and stuff...i mean.”

@tatexstanley​ at: the walk to casey’s house

-

Arthur had basically seen Tate grow up right alongside his own daughter, but that didn’t mean he had to like the kid. Well, he didn’t hate him either. He was Millie’s flesh and blood more than he was that evil father’s. Sperm donor more like. But Arthur was protective, right to his core. What if Tate was amazing at pretending to the world he was a nice guy and then dare even lay a finger on Casey? Not on his watch. He’d break those Stanley bones in two and hang his skull on the porch to let people know not to fuck with Casey Callahan. God, now he was fucking pissed off just thinking about it as he walked towards his daughter’s house. As soon as he saw Tate heading in the other direction towards Casey’s home, he sped up a little. Arthur’s footsteps slowly picked up the pace in a silent competition with the younger man to get to the door first. They ended up reaching it about the same time but Arthur quickly grabbed Tate’s shoulder, friendly but firm as he spun the kid around with him. “Would you look at that. We had the same idea. Let’s take a walk.” he chirped, steering young Tate and himself from the apartment.

while it feels normal to spend time with casey, tate always gets a flutter in his stomach of excitement. but it’s become so normal he never has any idea on how to ask for an actual date, a proper one. it seems impossible and it doesn’t help that he knows casey’s father keeps a close eye on him wherever he can. like right now, the sheriff appearing from nowhere and spinning tate on his heel to start walking the other way. “oh!” he exclaims in mild surprise, his hand still up from where he was ready to knock the door. “we were...i was...we’re practicing for this thing for the kids where casey plays some music and i read.” he tries to explain but is already walking in the given direction arthur is steering him in. “yeah...sure. i can just text her and let her know i’ll be a little bit late, i guess.” just when he ensured he was a little earlier so he could perhaps get the courage to talk to her about...stuff. “where are we walking to? ambrosia isn’t far if you want a coffee?”

-

“Sleep.” Del corrected as they scanned through the web page, eyes darting through the article about the first edition. They barely heard what their nephew was saying, but all at once the conversation caught back up to them. Del flipped their laptop closed quickly and then rested their elbows on the table. “Oh yeah, that sucks. If only you knew someone…an author…who knows about the world of collecting, and possibly has a few contacts. That would help.” they said sarcastically, staring to Tate before they scoffed slightly. “Okay well, you don’t need to swear at me.” they then said at the suggestion of writing a sci-fi novel. Almost as bad as being told they should write romance. “Tate, if I ever write anything that remotely resembles that childish shit, please, please, alert authorities because it either means my time has come where my brain has melted beyond saving, or I’m being blackmailed by Dimitri to ruin my career for once and for all.”

“sometimes i forget that you’re a famous writer, del.” tate laughs to them, clicking his tongue as his mind counters through the suggestion. to him, she has always been family. a strange family member but close and someone he cares about regardless of if their house terrified him. it’s not the worst idea, tate thinks and getting involved in more specific collections will perhaps help boost sales. “first i need fifteen grand to get a special first edition, that’s a good place to start.” he sighs, drumming his fingers on the counter top as he thinks more. back to square one. “one of your books is sci-fi.” he looks at del, tilting his head and wondering if he is poking the bear. “the one with the time travel? that’s sci-fi.”

at: the last chapter @tatexstanley​

-

Del claimed to be anti social but that never really applied to family. She was proud of her nephew, and felt a shared respect for the darker things in life and of course, literature. They would often visit the book store, making themselves comfortable under the pretense of helping Tate with any customers. Del did believe they did help in other ways too, such as searching for rare first editions that Tate could make a decent amount of money re-selling. “Do Androids Dream of Electric Sleep.” Del blurted out with a mouthful of a greasy breakfast wrap from the little goat. They blinked their green eyes to Tate, expecting some kind of response. “Philip K. Dick. Can get up to 15,000 for the first edition.” they added, once they didn’t get an appropriate response from their nephew. “Science fiction always gets way more attention than it deserves. Oh wow flying rocks in space, where somehow everyone still adheres to the same psychology as here on earth. Only person who got it remotely right was Terry Pratchett. Dolphins being aliens and shit. And Mary Shelley, obviously.”

tate is much prouder of the stanley side of the family and its rich history which is more interesting than any wolfman tale. he likes to pretend that side of himself doesn’t exist, erasing his father from his memory completely. he’s always found comfort in del’s strange ways, even if they aren’t his taste but her unapologetic attitude is infectious. “sheep?” he mishears del quickly as he works, and stops walking across the store to place his hands on his hips. he has no idea what they’re talking about until they explain further. “oh...great. if only it was that easy.” he replies, shrugging a little. “first i’d have to have enough money for it myself, then i’d have to know somebody would even want to pay that for it, and i’d have to know where to even get it.” he sounds hopeless but he’s beginning to feel the pressures of self employment. “why don’t you write a science fiction and show them how it’s done?” tate laughs, returning to the shelf he was trying to get to at first. “maybe you could write about a flying rock in space that has completely different psychology. only problem is, no one reading it would understand it.”

​Status: closed @tatexstanley​

Location: The Last Chapter

Casey does her best to stay out of the way, lingering between bookshelves while Tate deals with a customer. But she peeks at him as she makes her way over to the selection of picture books, smiling to herself when she catches a glimpse of her best friend. Is it silly he still gives her butterflies all these years later? There is something special, though, about seeing him in his element. He belongs in a place like this. It’s fitting, and she can’t help the pride that swells in her knowing this bookstore is something they’ve talked about endlessly and now they’re both standing in it. If she didn’t have the courage to follow her dreams, she’s happy to have some part in his. 

The sound of farewells and the chiming of the front door is her cue to come out of her corner. Casey pokes her head out to see if the coast is actually clear, fully re-emerging with a small stack of books for her kiddos. “I have an idea. An offer you simply cannot refuse,” She smiles as she makes her way back towards him. Putting her pile down onto the counter, resting her elbows atop the surface and leaning into it as she looks up at Tate. “Okay, so hear me out. I’m an elementary school music teacher. You own a bookstore, right? What if we combine our powers for good? I found these picture books here about music,” She says, making an effort to put her hand on the stack. “You come to the school and read to my kids. I can play guitar while you do it, kind of like a score or something. I mean, I can’t bring them on a field trip here, so it’ll be like a little staycation or whatever the field trip equivalent is. I think it’d be cool. Do it for the children.”

tate tries to concentrate on the conversation with a customer, but his eyes remain searching the towers of books for the blond head of hair between them. even after all these years, tate’s attention is always pulled to casey and even after all these years, he makes sure to look away whenever he sees her head turn. he thinks it’s silly, like a cliche romance novel but he’s convinced his version doesn’t have a captivating ending. it’s too risky to admit the way his stomach does flips whenever he sees her, and he’s convinced that casey would never speak to him again too. he’s thankful when the customer leaves and he hears her footsteps padding towards him, and tate glances up from the register as if he hasn’t been watching her. 

“wouldn’t that make it an order if i can’t refuse? not an offer?” he teases her even though he is intrigued by her idea nonetheless. tate listens to her, leaning one hand on the other side of the desk as he does and sees her reveal the music books he ordered because they made him think of her. a smile creeps up on his face, his eyes getting lost in the sparkle of hers for a moment. “i think that sounds great.” he replies once she finishes and takes the music book off the top of the pile to flip through it. “but we’d have to practice, right? to make sure we’re like...not going to sound terrible.” he laughs and is excited that it could mean spending yet more time together. he begins scanning the pictures about different chords and melodies in the book, twisting his lips as he thinks. “maybe i could make the words rhyme?” he suggests, looking back to casey as he smiles again. “how do you come up with these ideas?”

.

Going to the Last Chapter to spend time with her son was a much needed escape from the house. She was trying her hardest to pay attention to Tate and helping with delivery, instead of the fact that his father paid her a visit a day prior. It was hard for her to believe Cade was alive and back in the city, it was going to be awful trying to explain it to the kids. For now, she would keep it to herself. No need for them to feel that burden, especially when she knew her sweet Tate would take far too much of it on himself. “Hmm?” She looked up from the shelf where she had been sorting the same three books for way too long. “Oh, Cordie,” Millie laughed at the display. “They just like to be different. I bet if you told them Dimitri Blackwell’s book was selling better on the shelf, they would immediately put theirs on the shelf versus that -” she hummed motioning her hand over the display trying to piece what it was. “Window? Is that what it is?” The older woman waved it off with a puff of air. “I’m just fine, sweetie. Thank you for asking.” Strange how easy that mask could fly back on even after years of working to take it off. “More important, how are you? And I would love to get coffee with you. Any excuse to spend more time with my lovely son.” 

tate laughs as he puts the box on the nearby desk and begins to pry it open and break the tape seal. “that’s a good idea. why do they hate him so much? is it...a horror feud kind of like with king?” he wonders out loud lifting the first few books as he begins to organize them to the side of the box. he turns his head to his mother and then the display del has made him create and he chuckles. “altar i think, she said it’s a gimmick thing and would be funny.” he shrugs because sometimes del’s humor was lost on him. he has no reason to disbelieve that his mother is okay, and he smiles sweetly to her with a satisfied nod of his head. “good, i hope you’re not working too hard either. i really appreciate you helping, didn’t have to.” he appreciates everything millie does as a mother, unable to imagine anybody else as such a caring parental figure. “oh, i’m good thanks. just trying to make this little book store a big success, the usual.” he laughs and then sighs. it’s probably not worth mentioning that the sales drop and raise like a yo-yo, and he finds it hard to feel secure sometimes. “i’m trying to think of a few ideas to fund raise, like a cake and book day or something. maybe del would want to sign some of her books, and hopefully not bite any of the customers.

owning a business so young is a privilege, but it is a slightly stressful privilege. tate often entices his mother to come and help him when there’s a delivery, and it’s also a way he gets to see her and make sure everything is okay. “oh...we’re not allowed to move around del’s section.” tate reminds millie, pointing with his eyes to his piblings display of horror novels which del arranged to look like an altar. “i tried telling them that maybe putting the books on a shelf normally would sell more.” tate shrugged, carrying through a box. “how are you doing? we can grab some coffee after this.” @milliestanley​