ETHEREAL

Welcome to Coolsville, the best little small town in Ohio.

…except for right now, but that’s not really VALENTINA GARRIDO’S ( ALEXA DEMIE ) fault, is it? Known as the QUEEN BEE around town, SHE is just your friendly neighborhood MAYORAL SECRETARY. Sure she can be SELF-SERVING and DOMINEERING, but she can also be INVENTIVE and RESOLUTE just like any other 24 year old. That doesn’t mean she has anything to do with our string of recent chilling events, though… right?

“No. The fuck? I don’t even like the clowns that have bodies connected to their heads.” He was an avid clown hater, and even joking about them felt a little fucked up. They were designed to be scary, Tommy thinks, but clearly Val didn’t feel the same if she could joke about them. “Are you gonna tell me you like clowns or something? Cause thats weird.” 

“I know how to try to.” He admitted, but if his smile could get bigger, it would. Knowing that his words landed felt good- that kind of good that settled in the back of your chest. He was hoping his words made Val feel the same kind of good, and to ensure it, he continued, “Just telling nothing but the truth, honestly.” 

His brow furrowed as he tried to work out why he needed to be thanked- was this some weird thing they carried because of their past and shit? But he was distracted pretty quickly by their movement through the crowds, and they ended up in front of horses?! One of the only games he had written off as unlikely to play- and now he wished he hadn’t. 

“At least you get what the game is from the name.” Although, you’d expect to be racing on a real horse, and this was not that. “I haven’t played this, but it looks kind of like diet skeeball, to be honest. Just roll the balls into the holes, I can totally nail that. I’m good at finding the right holes, you know?” 

♥ 

She had to laugh at this exchange, somehow as entertaining as the texts sent between them but better by virtue of their proximity. “That’s unfortunate for the clowns then, inanimate or otherwise,” Val says, before holding up a single digit, as if asking him to pause his train of thought, “And I don’t like clowns, no— Valentina and Clowns just don’t make sense in the same sentence. That and the makeup is a little much, don’t you think?” They were more of a sad caricature than anything else, in her opinion. 

“Let me toss a bit of truth back at you: you’re being a little humble for a guy that’s succeeding at this.” The compliment comes easy ( that’s how its been lately ), an interesting juxtaposition to the girl she was in High School and her refusal to supply the kind words. Everything about the night felt the same anyhow; you wouldn’t find her anywhere near this horse game or her then boyfriend during the July festivities, but here and now, she couldn’t imagine a better way to pass the time. “I guess that’s true. I still don’t know what gravitron means or what it has to do with the spinning wheel of death.”

Along that same alleyway, she’d never played a single game of skeeball in her life— couldn’t even point it out in a lineup. One more thing to add to a night of firsts. Perhaps they’d make their way over to an actual skeeball stand next.

“Talk about transferrable skills,” Valentina had to roll her eyes at the statement, but there was no venom behind it. “It’s been so long I can’t really remember, but I’ll take your word for it,” and she punctuates the teasing statement with a nudge of her elbow, “show me how it’s done.”

Danny thinks for a second, looking at Valentina. There’s a part of him that feels transported to a time long ago, only now he’s seeing it all through her eyes and he feels a bit like an asshole for trying to force his feelings onto her. It definitely wasn’t fair. At all.

“You know, I used to think I did, in high school. I was so sure of who I was going to be, what my future was, who I was as a person: a cheerleading idiot that would coast by on his parents money. And then, I don’t know, maybe college and meeting Darcy made me realize I could be so infinitely much more. Like the world exploded into technicolor. That spark of hope erupted into this huge fucking flame and then…and then…” He swallows hard and averts his gaze. “And then I guess I grew up again.”

The next thing she says does make him laugh, though it’s mostly at himself. It does sound pitiful, he can’t even argue. Maybe it was supposed to. Maybe he wanted the world to open up and swallow him fucking whole if he was a bit enough asshole to himself.

Danny swallows. “I don’t know. I think the fact that Dani is missing and I feel this huge weight of failure on my back is making it harder to feel that way. I was always so good at hoping and now it feels like my one talent is fading fast. I can’t throw people into the air anymore and now I can’t even hope that maybe one day I will. I know this is defeatist. I know and I am trying so hard to not be, but…”

He trails off for a moment before he manages to choke out, “What if it all falls apart?”

♥ 

“This isn’t growing up again,” she doesn’t think it is, at least, “sounds more like the flame is being smothered, but you shouldn’t let go of it either way.” A conversation like this felt like a butchered reprisal of the one they’d had years ago— though the roles were reversed now, Valentina kindling the fire she had once wanted nothing to do with, while Danny opted to neglect its wilting flames. Under the fluorescent lighting of the festival, they must have made quite the picture, bathed in the very technicolor that had metastasized throughout his being.

Seeing him like this was particularly concerning because it validated all those suspicions she’d had before. Affluence in this town was as much a prison as it was comfort for the children of these families. Valentina had ignored the former, knowing that such high hopes were deceiving. More than anything, she was a product of her environment; the perfect amalgamation of her mother and father, so then, there was no purpose in dreaming of the alternatives.

But just like all those years before, they were two very different people, deserving of two very different fates and she’d never been able to feign those similarities. Any other route was easier than compassion.

“I guess I’ll have to pick up some of your slack...I can’t pretend to know how you’re feeling right now and I’m not gonna lie to you and say I do but I get it. Hope itself isn’t the easiest thing,” it certainly wasn’t the easiest for someone like her, “and especially not when you’re dealing with this kind of situation. But you’ve got a group of people you can lean on, people that can hope for you in the meantime. So yeah...” she trails off in the end because she isn’t sure how to continue, “they haven’t fallen apart, yet. Not entirely.”  

for @valentinagarridos·

The car ride to Val’s had been tired and silent, Tommy letting her drive him for a change, but really he’d just been too tired to even think of objecting. They were just padding into the apartment now, another thing he hadn’t even thought about- going back to his own place. He felt, messed up, to put it simply, after his experience at the festival, and unwilling to go home and be alone. Val didn’t seem to mind at all though, and she kind of looked a little messed up herself- seeing a ghost you didn’t know would do that to someone, probably, and worse considering it was her grandpa. 

“Ugh.” Tommy groaned, as he flipped himself onto Val’s couch, lying completely flat, exhausted from the day. “I think I could sleep forever now. I feel so.. tired. Like all the juice I had for today to be good is gone now.” 

He held open his arms- for either Val herself, or the giant teddy bear he won her, just needing to hug something. “You feeling the same?” 

♥ 

She hadn’t felt so thoroughly exhausted ( mentally and physically ) for some years now, having grown accustomed to pushing herself well-past her limits for work and the like, but this had her feeling out of her depth. For all the enjoyment she’d felt, the visage of her late grandfather had siphoned it out of her, taking most of her energy with it. What came after was no better, relief replaced with panic at the sight of Tommy’s hand. 

The culmination of the night felt like punishment for shedding those pretenses, the rigidity of the self— they’re thoughts that sour her mood further, so she doesn’t dwell on them past a few seconds. Right now, Val is glad to be in her space, even more when Tommy’s lending his company; rude as it was, she’d began driving in the direction of her own apartment without so much as asking him where he’d wanted to go. But she needed this bit of selfishness.

“I wouldn’t blame you if you did,” though she thinks she’d be a little lonelier for it, “besides, I think it’s the least you deserve after everything...” The details are lost to her, but she’s got eyes; as adorable as it is to see him laying there on her couch, arms wide open, he should probably get that hand taken care of. Closing the distance between herself and the couch, she places the large bear in his arms, her hands reluctant to leave the soft fabric as she eyes him, “yeah, I could sleep for a thousand years and it wouldn’t be enough.”

Darcy didn’t believe in ghosts.

She had never, in fact, believed in ghosts.

She understood the appeal, of course - the chance to see a loved one again, the hope that closure is possible for all involved even if you meet an untimely demise, the thought that you could be so loved that someone would stick around after death for you.

But none of it was realistic.

It had been a debate for centuries, and yet with all of the advancements in science since the dawn of time, there had been no absolute proof of such phantasms. There should have been undeniable evidence by that point if they truly existed.

For Darcy, there was no in between. No maybes. They simply weren’t real.

So it had been a surprise to see something in the sky the previous night that looked so like what one might expect (based on Hollywood portrayals) a ghost to look like.

Darcy had never known Valentina’s grandfather, but she had researched him when she’d returned home from the festival. Seeing the spitting image of the face she’d just glimpsed several feet above Town Hall had briefly taken her aback.

But then she’d gotten to thinking…

Who would do such a thing? And how? Was the hologram theory correct?

Darcy had invited everyone over to finally get to work connecting the dots on her conspiracy board, but the meeting had two objectives. A kill two birds with one stone, if you will. The first was working towards the answers regarding Dani that they so desperately needed. The second was checking in with poor Valentina.

Darcy had muted the group chat long ago, but had checked it late into the night after her mind had finally begun to quiet. What she’d read was unfortunate. And illuminating.

She hadn’t thought to offer her condolences to Valentina for what she’d had to witness. But of course she should have.

So she was determined to make up for lost time that morning as she handed the other girl one end of the red string, tiptoeing into the conversation while the others worked in other corners of the room.

“With all of the chaos of last night, I meant to check in…” she began carefully. “How are you? Whoever was responsible for that prank was undoubtedly out of line.”

@valentinagarridos·

♥  

Whatever had happened after the festival ( supernatural or otherwise ), had left the majority of people in her inner circle scrambling for some understanding. Her father had locked himself in his study for the night; her mother had felt it imperative to inform every single member of the Garrido and Vidal families of the spectacle; and her brothers, while more enigmatic in their own reactions, were shaken as much as she. 

She’d never been the religious sort— life stopped at death, and if there was something after it was of no concern to the living. There were more important things ( tangible things ) to occupy your time, and one’s unfinished business was inherited by those left behind...

Antonio Garrido was laid to rest some years ago; his children and grandchildren had mourned him and accepted the passing of their patriarch, moving forward with the healing process after losing someone of such importance. 

He hadn’t been perfect ( far from it, in fact ), but he had been kind. 

Old age had softened the hardened edges of his soul, and in those final years of life, he’d tried mending relationships he’d fractured beyond repair. 

This phantom, or projection or whatever it was, was just one cruel reminder of their loss— of a loved one, of time wasted. And as much as she’d wanted to forget the events of the previous night, they’d been stubborn, digging their claws into the sinew of her synapses. Even now, the memory distracts her, keeping her from focusing on the task at hand before Darcy ( well, her hand ) entered Valentina’s field of vision.

Red string disrupted a confusing stream of consciousness, as it was passed from one hand to the other. 

Darcy’s concerns felt the slightest bit disarming, and the situation as a whole was more puzzling than anything else. She hadn’t even thought to ask herself how she’d felt about any of this, setting those emotions aside in favor of dealing with more important matters.

“Thanks,” there’s a pause as she twirls the red string around her finger, a somatization of nervousness that was all too foreign to Val, “I’m fine for the most part. Still processing things, but it could be worse.” She’d had a decent hold on her affect thus far. “Yeah it was a tasteless joke. I only hope we can find out who did this...though that’s not our main priority, now that I’ve said it out loud.” 

Cameron purses her lips, and stares at the hall of mirrors for a long moment, trying to decide how much fun they can really have without any way to get properly intoxicated without risking the Sheriff eating up another shot to arrest Cameron White, and win brownie points with the town. What a fun day to day Cam found herself maintaining now. 

“Well, if we’re doing this sober, then I say we kind of just… go for it. Enjoy the slight disorienting nature of the whole thing, and try and have some damn fun for once, right?” They all needed some fun. At least, Cameron needed fun. And, she wasn’t going to pull out the pity card just yet, but the thought had crossed her mind even briefly. “I think the fun is in getting lost if you wanna get philosophical with it,” She offers, passing over tickets to the attendant. 

A microscope was a nice way of putting it. She felt as if she had been branded with the Scarlet Letter, and made to parade around town like a leper. But, that was no different than normal. What made it particularly bad this time around was the fact that they were accusing her of doing something to hurt one of the few people she cared about. She was lucky Danny didn’t believe it, and likely never would, but she couldn’t stomach the even passing thought that he could believe it and shun her.

But, Cameron tosses the thought away as they enter the maze, lights softly and slowly pulsing from one vibrant rainbow color to the next. No, she’s not going to unload all these unfounded anxieties onto Val who, most likely, wouldn’t understand it anyway. “Probably like one of those awful Goat’s that head butts everyone,” Cam muses, in a teasingly longing way. 

♥ 

Those were surprising words from someone dealing with as much as Cameron was, but Valentina thinks that’s what gives those things such weight. While she’s no stranger to the lingering glares from Coolsville natives, the looks tossed in her direction held an entirely different meaning than those thrown at Cam. She didn’t know what the scrutiny felt like on the other side, and the family name drew more envy than anything else; Val wouldn’t claim to understand things from the other’s perspective, but the situation did annoy her all the same.

“Okay, go for it, and have some fun,” she repeated, “how hard can it be?” Years of playing pretend for all the hours spent at this festival should have been practice enough, though she doubts the mimicry wont replicate any actual feelings of fun. While she’d welcome another surprise in the form of true enjoyment, there was no use in setting such high expectations. “Interesting definition of fun, but I guess it’s about trying to find your way— out of the maze and in your own mind? If we’re getting philosophical,” she teases. 

Small moments such as these have her doubting her own philosophies, those diatribes of absolute power and its accompanying solitude. Valentina wasn’t sure that she could call Cam a friend ( or that Cameron would want her as a friend past their tentative truce ), but as the two of them walked inside of this maze, she’d thought that it wasn’t always better to be alone. An odd sentiment she’d waved away within the confines of her mind, glad it wasn’t something she’d been foolish enough to voice.

Vulnerability of any kind was weakness, she knew this; knew that it was dangerous to allow others into her immediate orbit; knew that one thing led to another, and yet, “I don’t know about all of that. If you were a goat, you’re giving more of that goat from Hoodwinked kinda vibe.” It was some movie Tomas had hyper fixated on some years ago, and she remembered more about it than she’d liked to admit. “That being said, I wouldn’t blame you for going all wild goat in our little Coolsville petting zoo,” and there’s so much more in the unsaid. 

Walking further into the funhouse, she pauses in front of one of the countless mirrors, revising each piece of her visage under the glow of the bright lights.

Araceli agreed to meet her. That was their agreement when Diana got a call from her little sister earlier in the day asking for a ride to the fair in exchange for their tradition of going on the ferris wheel together. And yet, as Diana crept towards the front of the line, her sister had to cancel, claiming that she was stuck on another ride. As per usual, she let Araceli off the hook and remained in line anyway. There was always someone who didn’t have a partner and Diana didn’t mind going with a stranger.

Apparently, the teenager running the ride didn’t think so. “You could just ask if there’s a single rider you know,” she said, crossing her arms as the people behind her started getting frustrated. Not that she could blame them considering the size of the line at the moment.

Between the worker’s incompetence and the line behind her, Diana was prepared to cut her losses and leave when she heard a familiar voice behind her. A bright smile tugged at the corner of her lips. “Oh perfect. I thought I was going to miss you.”

With a brief nod from a worker who was not paid enough to care, the two were ushered toward the empty seat of the ferris wheel. “Thanks for saving me back there,” Diana says once the worker was out of ear shot. “I didn’t think it’d be as big of a deal as he let it out to be.”

♥ 

Of all the places wherein people could ( and would ) take their jobs too seriously, Coolsville’s annual festival was not one of them, far from it, but teenagers would step up to the plate in the most misplaced of spaces. That, or the kid could’ve just been tripping on the authority of working a line. Either way, Valentina felt lucky she’d only had to attend one of these in a calendar year; the fun really evaporated faster than she’d thought possible.

Perhaps the company of a familiar face could remedy the situation. “Don’t worry about it,” she says, sliding into the seat next to Diana, “couldn’t leave you to the wolves.” Well, knowing Valentina, she could have but things were different lately.

“I am curious though: why were you in line anyways? Sans ferris wheel buddy?” It would be understandable on any other ride, but these things were really marketed for pairs. As small as the town was, Valentina wouldn’t want to ride this thing with anyone outside of her personal circles— conversation with near-strangers was an easy thing to navigate, but she disliked the awkward atmosphere and other pretenses. 

That’s what it was with this festival, wherein her family had to act as if they were enjoying themselves for the sake of pretenses. Tomas always clung to her when they were younger, everything about the event serving to overload his senses; Fabian did too little and was scolded too much; and AJ took the performance way too seriously to let loose and have any sort of fun. It had always been a recipe for internalized disasters.

Jasper had always liked Val.

Not because she was hot (obviously), as many might assume. No, that was only part of it. Though they’d never discussed it, being from the same side of town with wealthy, influential parents, Jasper had always just sort of assumed that they were dealing with similar shit - pressure to live up to high standards, make something of themselves, etc.

They’d taken different approaches, but they’d both ended up in the family business in Coolsville. And she sure was giving it her all. He found it admirable.

Plus, he’d always had a lot of respect for #girlbosses.

The smile he offered her in exchange for the funnel cake was therefore legit, the male happy that his plan seemed to be working so far. The first step was literally just getting her to take the bait. The napkins he’d throw in to seal the deal.

“A couple, but how many thoughts are we talking?” he asked, reaching towards his ass to grab the ones he’d remembered to stash in his back pocket.

Sometimes he was capable of planning ahead. And with a microphone secretly stashed on his person and his phone already recording a voice memo, he’d been sure to make the present one of those times.

“Have we, though? What do we even know, really?”

If he was going to get anywhere, he needed to be asking the hard questions. And a recap of what they knew from someone else’s perspective would actually be great for his podcast. He hadn’t yet been able to take a pic of the murder board in the weird girl and mysterious kid’s house.

That did not mean that he didn’t feel the need to defend himself against slander, though.

He was a great actor. Between the height of his fame and his spectacular downfall he’d even been stunt cast in Mean Girls the Musical on Broadway for a couple of weeks. Val didn’t even know what he was capable of pulling off.

But in that specific moment, he actually wasn’t acting. He was trying. It was just for the wrong (or… just different) reasons.

“I do give a shit and I am a team player. But I’m a team player out on community service and y’all sure do love illegal activity. So I’ve gotta be realistic.”

♥ 

Breaking off another piece of the funnel cake, she begins to wonder where exactly Jasper wants this conversation to go. The setting, for one, isn’t the best for discussing their acts of ‘vigilante justice,’ and the person, for seconds, wasn’t the best to ask. He’d do better with anyone else in their group of pseudo-detectives.

All the years they’d known each other and he’d always find a better rapport elsewhere. 

Still, Valentina supposes that people like them gravitate towards one another ( subconsciously or otherwise ) and moments like these serve to support the theory. They’re similar in the ways that matter, though the differences are louder in their protests— she’d never been able to digest Jasper as he came, preferring to deal with those bite-sized pieces instead.

Just the same, annoyance is the easier emotion, coloring the edges of their conversations lest she realize they’re too close to sameness. 

Forgoing another piece of the doughy concoction, Val extends a hand in his direction. “The funnel cake and the napkins get you a total of...” the words trail off as she does some nonsensical calculations in her head. His bounty had been decided at the start of the conversation, but there was no fun in admitting that, “two thoughts? Give or take.”

His fault for providing a product without setting a price. 

“What do we know in comparison to the opposing team or what do we know in general, because I didn’t know I was in charge of the previous episode’s recap,” she says, taking a few seconds after to survey the area. None of the festival goers were close enough to hear the conversation, but one could never be too safe. 

Especially where Jasper was concerned. Everything about the guy was just loud and while the same could be said about Valentina, the two of them operated very different in those states of being. At the very least, she wasn’t trying to draw any attention to the parts of their extracurriculars that danced the line between civil duty and criminal activity a little too well. 

“Okay, first and foremost, I don’t love illegal activity. I don’t even like it— pretty sure none of us do.” That arrest was an unfortunate fluke because Cameron and Danny decided to act on their own, and that had been rectified. 

Aside from that she couldn’t even name any other crimes this far into their investigation.

“If you’re so scared you’ll violate your terms of your probation, then stay home?”

Danny knows that more than anything Valentina struggles with intimacy like this. They didn’t date for as long as they did to not be aware of that situation. Still, he wishes she could be a bit kinder, a bit more open. He loves her regardless. Though that love has changed so drastically in these last few years. 

“My parents are unreadable in a way I have never understood,” he laughs gently but there is no humor there, only a gentle pain that has existed for as long as he can remember. “I don’t know how they feel about anything. I think it changes for them on the day.”

There’s a deep breath before he can answer. “I’m glad. Really. That they managed to get out. We all deserve to. It just sucks that not all of us get to. I hope…” he grimaces, “I hope that changes one day. That there are not people in the world who are always stuck in the way that we are. That maybe, eventually, we can change that for our kids.”

It feels good to hear her say it anyway. He doesn’t belong here. No, no he doesn’t, and it has taken him a very long time to realize that.

“A bookstore is the dream, isn’t it? We’ll see. Maybe when I’m 60 my parents will die of like an aneurism or a heart attack and I can sell the company and get out.”

♥  

Valentina could empathize with the sentiment. Everything about her own mother felt foreign, so far removed from anything Valentina could ever hope to understand. She’d read somewhere that parents could be like lighthouses, as much shelter as they were a warning. Somehow, her mother had only ever felt like the latter and though her father could be the former, he was so reluctant to love his children that his own embraces felt cold. 

“I don’t think many people know themselves,” it’s a thought she’d had once, since buried under all those other things she’d wished to forget, “and you shouldn’t spend your time trying to finish the puzzle or whatever it is that people are.” They’re plain words wrapped in lace and hypocrisy, but what else could she offer him? Val hadn’t learned a thing from her time in therapy save some buzz words and she’d been paying so little attention, that she’d surely to misuse them. 

Somewhere along the lines, she might even trample along that sliver of hope he had. 

“Maybe,” though she’s scared she’ll prove him wrong, that she’ll follow in her mother’s footsteps via nightmarish mimicry. The thought alone makes her pause, but Val remembers that the moment has nothing to do with her, not really. She’d extend a brittle olive branch, if it helped, “it’s a good a time as any to try and break generational curses.”

She has to shake her head then, because those words still sound like defeat and he’s better than that. Val thinks it’s one reason their house of cards had toppled over. “Full offense, but, you know that sounds really pitiful right? What happened to all that vitality and gusto you had all those years ago? And don’t tell me it’s gone— you’d spent all those years holding on to something and now you’re letting it go?” 

“Thats the whole point of the festival. They bring out all the good stuff.” It kind of felt like he was explaining this all to her for the first time, and he was in a way. They’d never even seen each other at this festival before. Well– probably seen each other, but in that passing a stranger way. “Maybe not the ones with the clowns and the balls that go in their mouth. Cause that ones just weird.”  Clowns had skeeved him out one too many times today. He still had to go after that one that blew its horn at him- but after this. And, he decided in that moment, that if a clown approached, he’d defend Val from it. Especially if it was the asshole one from before. 

He kind of liked this idea of protecting her, which was weird, cause he didn’t need to. She was probably able to fight that SOB on her own. He kind of just wanted to care, maybe, but he shoved all thinking about it to the back of his head. 

“Top shelf prize for a top shelf girl.” He said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, “I can put in the work.” And he paused for a second, but it felt like he should say more, “I’m already putting in the work. Its cool.” 

♥  

Well, he wasn’t wrong; it even felt like the festival could bring out all the good stuff between them, all those things they’d overlooked before. And maybe that was wishful thinking, but what was one more ridiculously odd behavior to add to the list? “Oh you mean the disembodied clown heads? You’re telling me you don’t love those?” The words are teasing more than anything— as she wonders who thought that one particular invention would be a good idea.

But she’s also putting a pin in that bit of information. No one but the two of them could really date for two years without exchanging much of anything about themselves; they’d been working on it though. And it was easier than she’d thought it would be. The mortifying ordeal of being known didn’t feel so daunting where Tommy was concerned.

“You really know how to make a girl feel special, huh?” His words sound as corny as ever but they have her smiling nonetheless. And Valentina’s not exactly lacking in the confidence department ( even less in the compliments isle ), but there’s something nice about the exchange. It feels like they left more of those pretenses at the gates, “yeah, you are...and I wanna thank you for that.” She trails off the last few words in favor of looping an arm through his and pulling him along.

Despite the steps they’d taken towards some unnamed destination, Val was still gonna struggle with parts of the journey and in the midst of struggle it was best to go and choose their first festival game. Honestly, she hoped it wasn’t the last. “Have you ever played horse race carnival game?” Her tone of voice went from curious to confused as she’d read the banner. “They couldn’t have given this a more creative name?”

Freddie laughs at that idea.  “You know, I think the gravitron would actually be the most daunting of all of the options.”  They grin.  “Can’t say the same about the festival debris, though - had a close call with a spilled snowcone earlier.”  And they’re wearing sneakers.

They nod.  “That’s good - probably especially right now.  Definitely seems like there’s some group dynamics that just like- whoosh, right over my head y’know?”  It’s not something that bothers them, really.  Not much.  “Like uh, like Jasper, for example.”  The heart of the issue.  “No one seems too thrilled he’s around all of a sudden.”

“For a minor internet celebrity, you think he’d have more fans at home.”  They’ve gathered bits and pieces of why - it’s what’s got them on edge too.  A cursory glance at his content and his headlines showed someone living for the limelight and the idea of that jumping into the middle of this- it doesn’t sit well with them.  Not from a logistical or an ethical perspective  And from a personal one- well, they’ve spent two years dodging the town rumor mill - the last thing they need is to be working with it.

“I mean, what’s your take- do you trust him?”  Freddie’s face is uncharacteristically serious.

♥  

“Oh, I’m all about scaling the tallest mountain first and all of that,” she says, an amused chuckle following suit. While it was a very Icarian outlook, her own wings weren’t made of wax and feathers, so then, why not? “The festival is fool of all kinds of little surprises for you, that must be the,” Val drags on the last syllable, taking a moment to think, “spilled snow cone maze, which is very ingenious for a small town.”

In all honesty, she’d walk around the grounds for a few minutes before deeming the area a mass dump site— and it wasn’t just the kids either. Something about this festival really had people acting like they had no home training.

Still, that was a rant for another day. “It’s one of those small town things,” lots of history and a side of fries, “which has its own pros and cons; I can give you a rundown if you want though I’m not the expert either.” Whatever happened behind closed doors was lost to her, anyways; luckily, much of Jasper operated outside of the house and all over the front lawn. “Yeah, he’s an interesting one. Depends on who you ask though.”

Well, a majority of the people in Coolsville might have the same opinion when it came to Jasper, but for all Val knew, there could be one dissenter. “Personally, I don’t. Jasper isn’t someone I think is going to be entirely transparent on a good day? He can’t be too happy sitting in this town again after everything else, you know?” She guesses they were similar in that way, unafraid of flying close to the sun; that being said he’d fallen and she was still coasting.

“Are you having concerns about him or something? Has he been weird with you?”

Truly, Cameron would sit out the Festival if left to her own devices. But, the last several years she’s been left with little choice. Between either being dragged by her Aunt, Cousins, and now Danny, she’s not one to disappoint. But, for all her griping about the matter, Cameron does see the fun it with the right people. She just wishes the circumstances were better this time around. But, between Dani’s disappearance, the new town mystery of how Cameron’s allowed to wander the streets. 

And, when her brain wanders to that, it wanders to the guilt she feels for ensnaring Danny in all of this. She should’ve insisted on going alone or something so that way, somehow, it would keep Danny out of the middle of it all. Realistically, he would probably still have done the same, but at least she could pretend like somehow it would go over his head that his parents had her arrested if he wasn’t there to witness it. 

“It’s a matter of perspective at the end of the day. If you go in without a plan to enjoy it, then it’s way less enjoyable.” At least in Cameron’s grouchy, teenage experience, that was the case. When she started attempting to enjoy herself, it got fun. It was especially fun when a high was involved, but that wasn’t the case this year. 

“Nah, not now. I’m supposed to be on my best behavior, remember? I figured it was better not to risk it since everyone and their brother is taking their chance to stare at me like I’m a part of the petting zoo.”

♥ 

A matter of perspective was one ( optimistic ) way of looking at it, but that required a large cache of them and Valentina had only had the one. Her oldest memory at this festival isn’t a very clear one, though that didn’t render it any less formative. There was a new dress her mother had dressed her in, the pins in her hair, and the shiny mary-jane shoes. 

Most importantly, the words she’d left her daughter with: don’t even think about getting this dirty. And so, she’d spent the rest of the festival within the confines of some imaginary square. 

The years after weren’t all too different, though they’d have one added responsibility. Valentina was suddenly an older sister ( once, twice and then three times ) and she had to keep four children inside that small intangible square. Maybe then, it was two perspectives, but neither one was very, fun for lack of a better word. In the end it was one other chore— and in the end, a girl goes missing and that’s when her experience with this event starts feeling a little less contrived.

“Okay, what’s step one in this plan of yours,” she thinks she might as well try, “as far as maximizing enjoyment of this weird little funhouse.” Val thinks she could start by being nicer to the attraction, but she wasn’t going to do that any time soon. Besides, Cameron was the real expert here. 

“Right, they’ve got you under a microscope as per usual.” Correction: even more than usual, which Val could understand in objective terms. Subjectively, the witch hunts were as entertaining as they were fair; there was something classless about the way the inhabitants of this town wouldn’t see past their own noses. “Which animal at the petting zoo are you, by the way?”

@valentinagarridos·

“Heels at the fairgrounds.  That is truly impressive.”  There is no sarcasm to their tone.  Freddie’s daunted by heels as it is, but on this surface - uneven, slightly soft, strewn with sticky and savory treats… No, they are sincerely, deeply in awe of Valentina at this moment.  “Do they you on the rides with those?”

Listen, it’s a genuine question.

They have a couple questions for Valentina, actually.  It’s why they wandered over this way in the first place.  Well, that and the kettle corn.

“You…sort of know everyone, right?  As Queen of Coolsville, you have a feel for all the goings on?”  Freddie decidedly doesn’t. And that’s got them a bit on edge with everything happening lately.  Well, that and the arrival of the press.

♥ 

Though she’d gone and slipped on the heels this morning, Valentina still looks down as if inspecting the footwear for the first time. A more comfortable pair of pumps that were as ergonomic as they were stylish— fashion and functionality should’ve always gone hand in hand. “Well I haven’t tripped over any festival debris yet,” and that, like many of these Valentina-isms, came with practice, “though I’m not trying to get on the gavitron or anything, so I wouldn’t know if they’d turn me away.”

She hadn’t spent much time around the rides, and she didn’t plan to but it would be a fun little experiment, if she had nothing better to do, that is. Alas, Freddie and their questions had her undivided attention at this moment. 

“Yeah, for the most part,” though she didn’t know much about the person asking, “but it comes with the territory and all.” While she didn’t necessarily parade around the title these days, she was every bit that girl and she still kept tabs on the citizens of the town ( sometimes it was through the grape vine and others it was through her mother’s own ‘family newsletter,’ but either way, she kept herself well informed ). 

Maybe there was a part of Danny that wanted Val to tell him that he was wrong, that he could still fight, that could he still win. It shouldn’t really comes as a surprise that instead she offers him her condolences on the matter. The apology is a surprise though. It’s not like it’s her fault.

He wishes there was beer here tonight. And if there is, he hasn’t found it yet.

It does surprise him though, that out of all things she remembers the bookstore. It used to be the one thing he held onto. The business degree would help, he had told himself all throughout college. She’s the only one that knows that’s his secret wish. His darkest desire.

Kids used to joke that he couldn’t even read growing up and yet here was, mourning a bookstore that never really even existed. That never could exist.

“I don’t know. Maybe…maybe after we find Dani my parents will ease up. But even then I don’t know if I can leave her to the wolves, you know? What if she wants to get out after everything? Don’t I owe it to her to let her? Isn’t it my job to stand in the line of fire for her?”

He hasn’t been the best brother lately, but in his defense he’s not sure she’s been the best sister. Parental forces have been forcing them apart for years. Even if he still remembers the look on her face when she ate her funnel cake; when he had snuck her away from his parents at this very festival and they’d eaten it so fast to hide the evidence that they both got sick.

♥ 

You can’t pour from an empty cup, and Valentina’s parents had never made the effort to fill hers ( their own must have been empty as well ). Whatever attempts she’d make to show compassion would be inutile— it had never been a necessary skill, and she thinks that whatever part of her was made for exothermic embraces had atrophied long ago. And in this moment, part of her wants to be anywhere else; part of her thinks she’ll say the wrong thing, that she’d leave him worse off than she had found him. Val had already done it before. 

But she’s not soft and she doesn’t know how to be, not in the ways that Danny might need and certainly not in the ways he thinks she's capable of. Valentina would be a fool to think otherwise, but she’s always known herself. 

Instead of filling his ears with platitudes, Val moves close enough that their shoulders touch, hoping the act conveys the words that she can’t say: I’m here, I understand. She’d wrap her arms around him if it didn’t feel like such a leviathan task, but it does, and so she doesn’t.

“Listen,” there’s a pause because Valentina knows the words are better left on the cutting-room floor; she says them anyways, “I don’t think they will.” Not if they’re anything like her own mother and father. “And if she wants to leave then there’s no reason you shouldn’t do the same. Fabían is in Spain right now, he left to go find something that was better for him than this town and I’m sure Tomas will follow.” The youngest of the Garrido children would always tell his sister that he’d stay by her side, but she wouldn’t clip his wings. None of them belonged here.

She wouldn’t voice it ( in case the words felt too introspective for comfort, ) but, this town was filled with people unfit to be parents, bringing children into this world that they couldn’t and wouldn’t care for. On sleepless nights, Val wonders if that’s one more cycle she’d continue and the possibility of it nearly makes her swear-off motherhood. “I just don’t think you belong here. In that bookstore, maybe, but not in this town,” the one where people live and breed and die as he’d so poetically described. 

Tommy was practicing. Sure, he had a natural athletic ability, but these games had always been designed to fuck with people. He remembers trying the pull up one, one year- that shit kept twisting in his hands, how was he supposed to be able to hold on for an entire two minutes?!  So he had tested out almost every game here, making a mental list of which ones he was good at, just so that he could have some chance of steering Val away from them. Even though she was starting to see sides of him that only his frat-bros had, he still felt this immense pressure to impress her. Which was tripping him out. 

He’d just about knocked all the bottles down when her voice calls out, screwing up his last shot. The attendant gives him an apologetic look, but it doesn’t register as he looks to her, smile growing on his face. “Val!” He chuckles, “Yeah. Of course. I’m gonna crush whatever game you pick.” 

Hopefully it wasn’t one of the clown ones, and he paused for a moment, to think, before he committed to wrapping his arm around her shoulder, and cocking his head slightly to the side, “Pick any game, any game you want. I’d pick on what prize you want, but thats just me. Would a giant teddy bear fit into the vibe that your apartment has?” 

♥ 

Perhaps these little fairground events could be fun after all— when in good company, of course, and these days Tommy was proving to be really good company ( and that was as confusing as it was nice ). It was weird how these small interactions could paint the festival in new colors, but she’s glad to be lost in the confusion. And that’s a sentiment she’d keep to herself for the time being.

Right alongside the one that says, hey, you don’t dislike it when he wraps his arm around you. Though Valentina might have to take that one to the grave, and if she leans into him that’s none of anyone’s business.

“That’s a lot to choose from,” and she could only name like three off the top of her head: ring toss, bust-a-balloon, and that bottle game Tommy’d been playing. Choosing by prize only made it harder; a giant teddy bear really didn’t fit into the vision board but alas, “I can make it fit the vibe with one of those sherpa teddy bears. But that’s a top-shelf prize, you ready to put in all that work?” 

The irony of those words isn’t lost on her, and if he doesn’t point it out then she wont either. Still, she thinks they’re getting better at navigating this new normal. Those inconsequential things couldn’t be as world-ending as they had felt before. 

Never in a million years did Jasper St. James think he’d be trying his luck at podcast fame.

It had already been a year since his epic collapse, his Icarus fall into Swiftie-assured exile pretty immediate after his arrest. His reputation hadn’t been salvaged once he’d been free to go, once the courts had decided that really he, specifically, had not committed too bad of a crime. But then, the internet had both a long and short memory.

Some people had already forgotten his misdeeds. Some people never would. But after a year, he was itching for some of the viral fame that had regularly been his for almost a decade.

It was podcasting or ASMR, and Trisha Paytas had called dibs on the latter.

The whole missing girl thing was his most obvious in.

He’d hovered on the edges of Danny Logan’s little investigation crew thus far, always listening but never contributing. It had probably been suss, and maybe he’d gotten a look here and there from people wondering if he could have been involved in the disappearance (he was hot but not creepy, trust). But it had all been worth it. He’d officially collected all the info he needed for at least two eps, with plenty more crazy theories to spin should the time allow. As long as the girl wasn’t dead, he was about to lead his remaining fans on one hell of a ride.

But first he needed two things - a title and some guests.

The first was easy, the second not so much.

Everything Is Not Cool in Coolsville was the most obvious and sick-ass podcast name, even if it felt like he was playing fast and loose with potential copyright infringement for something so close to a major plot point from his new favorite streaming show (Only Murders in the Building, streaming exclusively on Hulu). He’d picked the name within 24 hours of Dani Logan’s disappearance, but had only just managed to record some killer beats for his intro song in the hour before the fireworks were supposed to pop off on the 4th of July.

Which brought him to the interview portion of his evening.

Ohio was a one-party consent state for recordings, and he was a consenting adult. Who was ready to fix audio issues in post.

Though he probably could’ve gotten away with just holding out a legit mic, given his journalist status, he didn’t want people freaking out about being on the record when he asked them the hard hitting questions he was eventually going to be known for. So he’d hidden a small but mighty lapel mic in his shirt and set off for the funnel cake stand, muttering into the general area where he’d clipped the device as if he was doing a voice to text with Siri.

“Interview one…” he overenunciated, eyeing those around him before his attention landed on one of his fellow mystery crew-ers. “Commencing.”

Within a matter of seconds he was in front of them, offering out some of his still scalding funnel cake with a fake frown plastered across his face.

“Funnel cake for your thoughts? Super rough that we still haven’t pulled off the whole save the cheerleader, save the world thing yet, no?”

♥ 

One thing you could trust about Valentina was that she would, without a doubt, keep updating the running list of critiques she’d held captive in her brain. But you could also trust her to be fair; if there was something nice to be said, then she’d say, if not, then she’d say that too. 

She thinks she’s said enough about Jasper, and not a single part of that review had been nice. Not even close.

Some people are annoying, and some people don’t think their shit stinks— Jasper St. James was the odd amalgamation of both of those attributes and he’d made that everyone’s problem.

It was trés unfortunate how the town couldn’t shake him off, and even more so that this was a town so small, that one Jasper St. James could go and locate her with ease. She’d closed that metaphorical door aeons ago and it just felt like he was rooted to the other end of it, trying to jimmy it open with a butter knife.

Well, this time it was funnel cake, tangible and greasy. Val had the slightest sweet tooth, but this wasn’t enough to sway the masses in his favor ( the masses being the fats and carbs that made up her brain, and oh, did they remember how annoying he was ).

Val grabs the plate with all its doughy glory because one, he’d offered ‘funnel cake’ not ‘a piece of funnel cake’, and two, she deserved this little consolation prize.

Thank you’s are in order, but not really— and she’s popping a piece of the festival food in her mouth before those etiquette classes even have a chance of rearing their ugly heads. She’s chewing slowly as she regards him, hoping the act is enough to send him away.

But she should know better by now. 

“Did you bring some napkins for my thoughts as well, or?” She finally says, brows raised in tepid expectation. If he wanted to make his existence her problem, she’d throw it right back at him. That was the dance they’d engaged in for all these years, and she was tired of it but no less skilled than she had been before. What did he even want right now?

All signs pointed to conversation about Dani, but since when had he been so inclined to care? You could put him in a line up, and she’d confuse him for the fly on the wall— or a snake for that matter. He’d always been so unrefined in the ways he operated, messy for the sake of fame? What a joke that was. 

“Like anyone else has made any headway?”

Even if things had been moving at a snail’s pace, it was better than nothing. Valentina knew what the odds were and no one in Coolsville had been know to work miracles ( certainly not a group of young adults with little-to-no sleuthing experience ); slow progress seemed to be as good as they were gonna get until they found the one thing that cracked the case wide open. 

“You know, it’s super rough that you haven’t pulled off the whole give a shit, be a team player thing yet, right?” A lamp post could have been more productive than he’d been.