i don't even know if this makes sense but it's something

"Tell me how you really feel," Gabe teased, finding amusement out of my annoyance.

"It's just not fair, how does everyone else get to go through life being detached and just fine with it.  Not needing anybody.  Not feeling lonely.  Not... dealing with all this bullshit."  I gave what I hoped would pass as a huff, though it was actually just me sucking in my tears.  Last thing I needed right now was pity.

Even though Gabe doesn't do pity.

But when I glanced up, I could tell that he saw through my fake-huffing. It wasn't pity but still an uncommon expression in his eyes... compassion?

things i write in public on an airplane 😈

(additions to next chapter i might post)

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Violet’s thoughts waking up:

Ugh this is such fucking bullshit having to wake up at the ass crack of dawn just to go do some stupid fucking exercises because my dumbass decided to make this deal with Izaak. I know, that’s not the real problem – it’s Clo.  How am I supposed to spend the weekend with her lying to my face like this?  I mean, there’s a slim possibility that she isn’t Pattie… and my mission is to solely get more evidence before ratting her out to Gabe or anyone else.

Maybe there’s something here that would help me figure it out?  Note to self: check her room for anything suspicious.  Also, get intel from Izaak.

Does he know?

snippets

"Riley, spit it out, what did you see?"

Her eyes were wide, glossy, horrors written all over them.  I didn't want to actually know.  She didn't want to tell me.  But we both knew what she'd seen.  "Andy... he's... they're... they bring girls.  And.  Sell them."

Clo gasped.  

I growled.  "That motherfucker.  If I had a fuckin' gun..."  Instead of completing that sentence, I grumbled to myself, pacing Molly's room.  

"We have to get the memory card.  I'll turn it into the cops... to this... Agent Booth or whatever."

x-x-x-x

The banging sounded official, especially when followed by a man's shouting, "FBI."

I shivered as Violet hopped up from the couch, almost too enthusiastic about letting them in.  I know she was just anxious and needed to move.  My anxiety just wanted me to crawl inside myself, disappear entirely, never have to deal with any of this.

Even more so when the man walked in, dress shirt with tie, FBI badge clipped to his belt, and I looked up to see... "Lieutenant Payne?"

what everyone is doing right now

(lol things I write to try to get back into a regular routine...) 

Molly lays curled up on her bed with Crackers, scrolling on her phone.

Chloe is listening to a podcast while drawing something on her ipad.  

Violet's in bed already, probably masturbating before passing out to sleep.

Gabe is on the couch, finishing up some work while the tv hums out sports highlights in the background.  

Toby is reading a fiction novel... a paperback, because the goal is to reduce screen time before sleeping.

Izaak, of course, is snoring, having been asleep already for at least an hour.

lol not much but something

"Why won't you tell him?"

"I just told youuuuuuu... he'd be in trouble at work..."

"He will be in trouble anyway."

"No he won't..."

There was an awkward silence as I waited for Toby to argue back at me.  

riley's story

I'd always liked Violeta.  She was the only one who paid attention to me when I was a kid, always the loner, always doing some weird shit off in the corner by myself.  She didn't mock me, didn't try to make me come out of my shell.  Yeah some light teasing maybe, but mostly she just let me be.  

So when she texted me for help, I couldn't say no.  But I should have known to advise against Dominic's.  That place has eyes everywhere.

My first clue was when Andy barged into my lair without so much as a knock.  He completely ignored my glare, as he always did.  "Leo told me you got dirt."

Even if I wanted to deny it, I couldn't — the video still was literally up on my screen in that moment.  "I just hacked into it."

Andy traipsed across the room as if he owned the place, leaning over my shoulder way too close to me.  

therapy session with Riley

I logged into zoom, almost exactly on time, no sign of Riley yet.  The paperwork that had been filled out was minimal — "depressed," "light substance use that worried my friends," "idk if i need therapy but was urged to try it out anyway."  She was recommended to me by a colleague who said we'd be a good fit, which I recently learned means that she probably has a schizoid-ish personality style.  My favorite.

The notification popped up, telling me that "riley (she/they)" signed into the waiting room.  Exactly 1 minute late.  I clicked to let her in, and her image immediately popped up (fast computer/internet!).  She has black and pink hair pulled back in a ponytail, cat ear headphones, and was sitting in what looked like the comfiest gamer-chair ever.  I was immediately jealous. 

"Hey Riley, I'm Breanna, it's nice to meet you."

future scene maybe

It'd gotten bad. I didn't want to admit it. The first *real* relapse since I'd quit smoking weed. The other times didn't really count. But this time... ugh it was bad.

Even Booth noticed. His concern was brief- "Mol... you good?" and of course I assured him I was. And he knew I was lying, but didn't push it. That's how people always are with me, I shouldn't really expect any differently. But sometimes it sucks when they don't try to pry it out of me. Even though I shouldn't make them.

But Gabe and Izaak BOTH had left me. And I didn't fucking care. Because I have weed. And weed never leaves me.

"Hey, what the fuck, I've been waiting for you and texting? Why haven't you answered?" That was Vic, standing in the entrance of my lonely bedroom where I laid, still in pjs and bedhead, puffing on my vape pen and scrolling through tiktok.

"Oh, hey, sorry, I guess I lost track of time."

Chloe

A weird calmness took over after Violet asked me.  I'd been carrying around this anxiety of getting caught for weeks... probably since I moved here.  And now... the uncertainty was over.  She knew.  She didn't have evidence.  She was ready to start digging.  She asked me.

And I didn't fucking tell her.

Why can't I be a normal person and just be honest?

Con artist genetics, maybe?  My dad passed it down to me?

Part of me wanted to tell her... she just asked me at the wrong time.  I hadn't expected it.  Hadn't realized she knew already.  So I just slipped into my default mode.  

Don't get caught.

As Violet breathed softly beside me, I did something I never do — planned.  I visualized the memory card, tucked away near my laptop and iPad.  I'd take it to a cafe, switch my face with someone else who would have been a minor when Winters and I fucked around, so they wouldn't want to get her involved.  Then give the memory card to Violet like I'd been the one who cracked it myself and found all this great evidence in Sage's basement.  Then they'd have nothing on me.  

Then I could have the best of both worlds.

x-x-x-x

I was floaty all day, plastering a smile on my face so nobody questioned me, probably didn't even notice that deep inside I was petrified... even I didn't really notice.

My mind drifted in and out of daydreams.  

Winters.  

chloe winters flashback

As I worked on the image, my mind drifted, somehow thinking of the old days as easier times. Deep down, I knew the reality... the loneliness, misery, existential dread. But right now, the dark pieces were boxed up neatly as I thought of the late night chats with Sage. The lavish hotel penthouses. The detached relationships. The adrenaline rush of ending said relationships with blackmail. That was the life.

It was just so simple back then. There were rules. A structure. All set up by Sage, who gave me the instructions and risks then let me proceed. I had a clear mission. My job was to just make people fall for me, which is easy.

Winters loved me from the beginning. Well, as capable of love as that psychopath can be. He admired my beauty. Enjoyed feeling like a big and powerful MAN. Got so wrapped up in the power trip that it was easy to learn shit about him.