akeemarcus

[akeemarcus]

❝ Yeah, I mean, sure. Why not? Might be fun. ❞ Milo was one of the easiest people to be around, not even out of the group but in general ; he doubted Isla would want to bunk with him, so his next choice would be Reeve or Milo. But he felt like he didn't have to put as much of a front on for Milo. If his facade slipped, they probably wouldn't even notice. Letting out a soft left, Kingston's eyes roamed the room, briefly wondering how easy it would be for a bear to tear one of the walls down before he let his attention move back to his friend. ❝ Do you . . . know how to make a birdhouse? ❞

🫀 : akeem kingston @akeemarcus

📌 : dwellings

⏰ : august 12th, 2023 (3 days before the disappearance of luke sinclair)

"i call this one!" it's the first they've entered, but milo is dropping their bags, draping themselves over them on the splintery floor dramatically. they'd never been camping; somehow milo never imagined anything past sitting in tents, eating s'mores, and telling ghost stories. they didn't think it would be so tiring. head hanging off of their backpack, kingston looks upside down from this angle, as does the work bench and rusty tools they're just noticing in the cabin "wanna be roomies? we can make a birdhouse together." and get tetanus together. how romantic.

[akeemarcus]

His heart leapt at the sound of her voice, nearly pulling a muscle in his neck with the energy put into his sudden turn. The hold on him she had should be studied. In his brother's shoes, the man didn't have much trouble finding someone to date . . . but he didn't want to date someone. He didn't quite get it, himself ; was he only drawn to her because she didn't seem interested, or because he could see something in her, something every other person he'd met was lacking? No matter the reason, he would drop everything for a moment with her.

Quite literally, the branches he'd been holding falling by his feet as he took in the sight of her, then the book, then the currency. ❝ For me? ❞ He was touched, palm outstretched to take the coin she was offering, the skin by the corners of his eyes crinkling with his smile ; she had paid attention. ❝ I will cherish it forever. ❞ A lighthearted comment, a joke, but there was some honesty in it, fingers closing around its home in his hand before he could even check the date. He did not care. It would be his favorite from now on. ❝ I feel a little bad, though, I don't have anything for you. Unless you want this funky looking leaf I found earlier . . . ❞

WHEREABOUTS SECURED: TWO WILD THINGS IN THE MIDDLE OF NOWEHERE.   EXCHANGING STOLEN TRINKETS. @akeemarcus

the air was thick and warm with morning dew. isla had set out early in the morning, returned to the campsite in intervals between plucking wildflowers from the forest and trying the slightest to make herself useful in log cutting. their first intersection of the day had been intended, isla had been keen about that sort of thing. she'd always found the things she'd gone looking for — and worse — the things she hadn't. she watched kingston for a moment as she approached, two sunlit things weary of eachother but not yielding. only because she had something for him — two somethings. " i believe this belongs to you, " sudoku booklet, worn of its lettering is urged to him when she's close enough. he'd left it with her the evening prior, isla neglects to mention that she completed a page in his absence. then, before he could chance saying anything fingers went rattling through the sagging pocket of her cardigan, holding out a coin all round and patina for him. " and this. found it on the ground earlier, think it's pretty old. " isla hadn't scrubbed the coin enough to know, but it certainly sounded better than admitting that she just liked the thought of him keeping something she'd given him.

[akeemarcus]

“He dropped his hands. I saw the realization strike him. He was truly alone. And he always would be.”

— Leigh Bardugo || Ruin and Rising (via kailawrites)

[akeemarcus]

Kingston's lips parted to deny anything, even though there really wasn't anything to deny — but he stood, instead, looking a bit like a deer in headlights. He hadn't even noticed Reeve nearby when they were on the couch, but if he was being honest, he hadn't noticed anyone. He couldn't explain it, the way she had made him feel like it was the two of them in their own little world, their own little bubble ; the way he hoped that time would just stop right there in that moment, so he didn't have to go back to his real life . . . a life he had given up everything for.

❝ She was reading my palms, ❞ he spoke after a beat, as if that was a reasonable explanation. His smile returned to his face. This one was less fake, matched the skin wrinkling by his eyes. Goofy. Sheepish. Like he had been caught, called out. A child with his hand in the candy jar before dinner. ❝ Uh huh. Thank you for inviting her, or ask why you didn't tell me how cool she is before? She's sick as hell, dude. ❞

REEVE'S AWARENESS OF HIS CHAPTER'S vice president was tangential at best, their lives always in the periphery of the other's but never fully crossing. any interaction they did have tended to be superficial, centered only on frat dealings or their mutual friendship with luke and never leaving that specific bubble. this was in part because reeve didn't really care to learn much about kingston, but also because kingston didn't seem like he had much to learn about. his life was just too perfectly curated, the exact blend of ordinary and extraordinary to make it so he never stood out, but was never questioned either. it kept reeve from getting curious ( read : suspicious ), though it also kept the two of them from talking about anything personal— anything real.

maybe tonight would be the night that finally changed.

taking the bottle from kingston, reeve scoffed, ❝ please. from what i saw, you're going to be too busy to carry anyone anywhere. not unless that person happens to be isla wardwell. ❞ the moment he said isla's name, he reached up, tapping the cap of the bottle against kingston's forehead. while he hadn't seen most of their conversation on the couch, he'd seen enough. ❝ you can thank me for inviting her at any point by the way. ❞

[akeemarcus]

Kingston laughed, her energy infectious. He was mostly putting on a front ; the party wasn't bad, but he was ready for it to be over. Ready to go sit somewhere his own thoughts weren't drowned out by what felt like a million other voices and music. But Kody made it feel, at least momentarily, like somewhere worth being. Blowing his own noisemaker again, he let out another laugh. ❝ You enjoying yourself? ❞

"Want - yes! One thousand percent!" In Kody's mind, there was nothing better than this party blower. Nothing in the world. Of course, that thought was carried along but the copious number of shots and mushrooms she'd had but still, it felt completely true. Grabbing the blower he held out; Kody was moments from blowing it when he shouted spring break, and it was like a code word for her to start dancing. "Let's goooooo."

[akeemarcus]

❝ Thank you, ❞ Kingston let out a breath of relief, as if he had been holding it in fear of Thomas choosing the wrong answer, letting him down in front of this group of people he truthfully couldn't care less about. ❝ I fuckin' knew you'd get it. His beak would be huge, too, dude! Motherfucker could just swallow them whole. ❞ With that, he placed his palms on the ground, pushing his body weight into standing position. ❝ Sorry, guys, I gotta surround myself with similarly minded people, no hard feelings. ❞

He was grinning as he stepped towards Thomas, a gentle arm tossed over the other's shoulder to steer him away from the small crowd on the ground, only releasing the poor man once they'd made it out of earshot and his own shoulders released some of their tension. ❝ Sorry for Tommy-ing you back there, man. I needed a get out card ; those kids were not letting me go. I owe you one. They're cool, but I can only talk about ducks and horses for so long before I start to lose my fucking mind. ❞

SAUNTERING UP TO THE GROUP , spotting one familiar face amongst a handful of pledges , thomas reached up to scratch at the back of his neck as he shrugged a limp shoulder . he brushed of the moniker kingston had used , too distracted by the debate at hand . one he couldn't , and simultaneously could , believe was happening right now . " who would , , , win in a fight ?? is this really up for fuckin' debate right now ?? " thomas inquired , taking a gracious swing from the open mouth of his beer can as he furrowed dark , glitter-infested brows in contemplation .

" i mean , that's not even a fuckin' question , man . obviously the horse sized duck is gonna step on all the duck sized horses . his feet would be fuckin' huge . he could just , , , i dunno , squish 'em . "

[akeemarcus]

There was something about her offer that made him feel weightless . . . the realization that both of them could end this here, scurry off to find their friends in the crowd, become nothing but a hazy memory to one another . . . but neither of them seemed to want to. He knew he didn't want to. Time could stand still for all he cared, and he knew it was ridiculous, to feel this way about such a tame conversation, someone he didn't even know. But every part of him wanted to cling to it.

❝ All right, ❞ he repeated her words, permission to do whatever she wished, show him whatever she wanted to, as if she needed permission. It was obvious, the way his pupils couldn't seem to pull themselves away from her face.

It's not saying much when you're lyin' to yourself. Her words were like honey, sweet and heavy, seeping into his skin. If she was only making things up, encouraging him to do the same, she could fool him. Kingston locked onto every word she chose to voice. Was it just him, or was she leaving a trail of electricity in the wake of her touch, that simple graze across his palm?

She was good at this, even if she was pulling it all out of thin air, out of nothingness ; he felt understood, he felt seen, more seen than he had in years . . . possibly ever. His breath caught in his throat, he only remembered to pull oxygen into his lungs once again when her hands were pulled away from his own hands, his forehead, back to her lap. ❝ Maybe it is on fire, ❞ he joked, his voice soft, dazed. She must have him under some sort of spell. He could only hope she wouldn't release him anytime soon.

❝ All right. All right, heart line, ❞ he willed himself to remember where to start, holding his hand out, still ( he had never dropped it ), for her to place hers back into it. As worried as he was about looking like a fool, he was more worried about the thread that had been woven between them snapping, never getting a moment with her again once this one was gone. If it meant being an idiot to keep her there, so be it. ❝ But you gotta be patient with me, alright? I'm new to this. You can't laugh too hard. ❞

isla’s gaze dipped to their hands again,   his fingers still curled around hers,   not tightly but with this strange,   careful kind of weight,   like he wasn’t sure if he was allowed but couldn’t quite make himself let go.   it tugged at something low and restless in her,   like a bird trapped under glass.   she exhaled through her nose,   a smile pulling at her lips,   soft and off-center.

" all right, "   voice loose,   tipping sideways,   her fingers drifting to brush his wrist,   feeling the faint rhythm of him.   " if you’re gonna make it up,   at least convince me.   here— " she turns his hand over,   palm-up,   fingers parted between her own.   " i’ll show you. "

isla tapped the long line slicing through the middle of his palm,   her thumb tracing it.   " this one is your heart line.   supposed to tell you about love,   or whatever people think love is. " vision slips sideways,   her grin crooked and small,   catching his eyes.   " but it’s not saying much when you’re lyin’ to yourself. "

his laugh came quick and quiet,   almost embarrassed,   and his hand softened under hers,   pliant now,   like he trusted her with it.   dangerous,   she thought.   but she didn’t stop.   " this here, " a willing continuation,   dragging her finger along another crease,   musing almost distantly,   " is your life line.   people like to think it’s about how long you’ll live,   but it’s more about the engine inside you.   how fast it burns.   yours?" gaze meets his again briefly,   lips twitching into something wry.   " you've got some fight in you,   hopefully anyway. "

her thumb stilled,   her gaze finding his again,   holding just long enough to make it feel like an accident.   " and this, " voice dips,   quieter against the throb of the revelry surrounding them,   her fingertip moving to the line near the base of his thumb,   " is your head line.   it’s how you think,   how you handle the mess of the world. "   a beat,   " yours is sharp.   at its capacity. "

without thinking,   her finger drifted up,   briefly pressing lightly against his forehead,   right between his brows.   " see?   all the knots in there.   you’re lucky nothings caught fire in there just yet. "   her touch lingered for a second too long,   like she was trying to press the thought back inside him where it belonged,   before she leaned away again,   folding her hands into her lap like nothing had happened.

" not so bad,   huh? "   the grin reappears briefly,   crooked and strange,   daring him to break the moment.   and all too entirely pleased with herself,   isla straightens up.   " now,   your turn.   show me what you’ve learned. "

[akeemarcus]

It took him a moment to understand what had just happened ; one second, Kingston was making his way through a crowd of people, throwing up a peace sign to someone shouting hello across the room, the next the smell of alcohol was much stronger. First, his eyes fell to his own chest, droplets of lukewarm beer sliding down his skin, bare except for the neon yellow mesh top he'd thought made him look like the hot stuff — for some reason. Then the fuck off registered his ears, which really and truly only confused him further.

He and Camille weren't best friends or anything, but he didn't think he had done anything to deserve . . . this. He wouldn't. They scared him too much. ❝ Defending . . . what? Was someone fuckin' with you or something? ❞ Realization finally dawning on him, Kingston brought his hands up, palms forward, an apology ready to spill off his lips despite being pretty sure he was the victim here. ❝ No? No. No, I don't even know who . . . I was just walking through, swear. If you think he deserved it, I'm with you. ❞

for @akeemarcus

frat boys were a different breed, full offense intended when it came from camille. one in particular, had been poking the bear all night. camille didn't even know his name, but they had already called him every curse word under the sun as their paths kept colliding throughout the night.

this time, however, camille had redirected her attention for a moment. picking up an abandoned drink from the table next to them, launching the contents onto the dude bro. at least, that's who it was supposed to hit. in a crowded party, of course someone would be walking between them the second camille turned to strike.

❝            yeah, that's right. you better fuck off ! ❞  the intimidation of the fleeing frat boy came before the apology... which actually wasn't even second.  ❝ what ? you fucking defending him ? ❞ as if kingston had intended to be on the receiving end of their flying drink.

[akeemarcus]

❝ You're all good, ❞ Kingston assured him, taking a small puff before saying anything else. ❝ Is it? ❞ He knew that, obviously he knew that, but he worried saying so would make them feel bad. He bit back a laugh, not wanting to seem like he was mocking him. It was . . . wholesome, in some way, and better than any conversation he'd be having inside. ❝ Milo's a cool ass name. ❞

"shit, no man, i didn't." their voice is lacking in humor, completely stunned as they take the blunt "i'll try to be more observant in the future." it's sincere, but spoken about something so ridiculous through slurred words, sounds like sarcasm. worse, it's punctated by a large hit of weed and a series of coughs "mine's milo, by the way." they turn their head, redirecting the smoke as they hand it back.

[akeemarcus]

Social events were not his preferred scene, despite what people believed about Kingston ( the life of the party ) but having Luke around always made it easier. He could simply stand by his best friend's side, nod along, and get by on his charm rather than worry about his own. No one doubted that he fit in, not with Luke's approval already following him around like a shadow.

❝ Sure you would, ❞ he laughed, shaking water off of his head like a wet dog. It was hard to pretend his heart was in this, but he didn't want to be a buzzkill . . . or raise questions. ❝ You're right, you're right, ❞ he agreed, it was all in good fun. ❝ Let's get on with it. Sooner this is over, sooner I can find a girl to take back to my room. ❞ And by a girl, he meant a book of Sudoku, but he wasn't admitting that aloud.

CLOSED , @akeemarcus .

laughter boomed from his chest like rumbling thunder , eating up what little oxygen remained . even outside — his giddy reflection dancing in ripples of the pool's murky water — air had become a scarcity from too many bodies taking it all up . drunk and high ; hot and sweaty.

sucking in a deep breath of the night's thin breeze , luke propped the large water gun against his hip. " sorry , sorry ! but , hey , if you did join the wet t - shirt contest , i'd vote for you . " another loud , jaunty laugh followed as he surveyed the wet layer of cotton that clung to kingston like second skin . taking a step forward , luke lightheartedly shoved the brunt of his forearm against the other's soaking chest , shaking his head with a smile.

" c'mon , man . where's your artillery ?? we've got pledges that need to be put in line . can't let them think they're off the hook just yet . "

[akeemarcus]

"Uh . . . yeah?" It came out more of a question than an answer, taking the weed with a nod of thanks. It never fit quite right, a mask constantly threatening to slip, and he wondered why no one had questioned it yet ; for a moment, he feared they knew something, found something out somehow, but then they were speaking again, relief swelling in his chest. "Well, you're not wrong," he offered, taking a long inhale before holding the blunt back out to Milo. "Kingston's my last name. But I prefer it, so we're cool. You really didn't know that?"

𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐫 — akeem kingston 𝐥𝐨𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 — front lawn

"yo, your name's akeem?" it's their first words as they approach, tripping over the leg of a lawn chair, pupils blown wide. milo hands over a blunt without request, painted nails sliding over kingston's palm in a half-assed dap up, far more focused on the discovery they had just made. it had been over a year of this, hearing the guys talk about some mysterious asshole named akeem that he'd never met before, and it took until he was fucked up on a dubious cocktail of substances to finally balls up and ask "i thought it was kingston???"

@akeemarcus

[akeemarcus]

task #003 : staying on theme !

equipped with a bulk bag of noise-makers he's handing out to everyone that will take them, glitter under his eyes, walking around like a yellow highlighter . . .

[akeemarcus]

task #002. dust & dufflebags.

WHAT'S IN KINGSTON'S BAG(s)?

WHISKEY & VODKA : kingston finds it very hard to sleep without alcohol in his system, so while he was sure they'd have something to drink, he also brought his own little stash without telling the others, tucked into the bottom of his heaviest bag where he could sneak a few swigs every night.

MELATONIN : also for sleeping, but this he is willing to share. surely they won't be here long enough for him to need the whole bottle . . . right?

MARIJUANA : as well as rolling paper and two lighters. the lighters may also come in handy elsewhere.

COIN COLLECTION : his most prized coin book for safe keeping, one hobby he wasn't willing to drop when taking his brother's name. he claims he started doing it to honor marcus to not raise his parents' eyebrows . . . and so they weren't tossed out with all of his other belongings.

SUKDOKU BOOK : and a couple of pens and pencils. for the nights he can't sleep or there's nothing else to do. it probably won't be boring enough to actually use them.

WALLET : some cash, debit and credit, a rewards card for a grocery store, a polaroid of isla, his id, as well as the last one "marcus" was given before his death. the last he'll ever have with his real name on it.

BUG SPRAY : for isla, as well as whatever else she asked him to bring. he packed two backpacks and he was willing to fill one entirely with her things if needed.

PORTABLE PHONE CHARGER : at 100%.

BAND-AIDS : the family pack! just in case.

CELL-PHONE : despite the spotty service, a necessity.

COLOGNE : a half empty bottle of versace eros and nearly empty montblanc legend.

DEODORANT : can't be smelling funky on a camping trip with your girlfriend . . .

CLOTHES : kingston brought a duffel packed with clothes. two jackets, three pairs of jeans, two pairs of sweatpants ( one now belonging to kody after the fire ), a few sweaters, his favorite hoodie, two tees, combat boots, tactical boots, sneakers, several pairs of socks, enough clean underwear to last a month ( hardly an exaggeration ), two beanies, gloves, a pair of sunglasses.

MISC : a pocket knife, a compass, two large cans of peanut butter protein powder, a few granola bars, graham crackers, marshmallows and chocolate for s'mores, a random notebook, a mini axe, uno cards.

[akeemarcus]

LOCATION : outside, among a small group FOR : @seeinghcsts

❝ No, no, absolutely not. I won't accept that, ❞ Kingston frowned, unsure when or how the discussion came about, or even why he'd chose the side of the argument he did at this point, but he was not changing his stance now. Looking up from the spot he sat, crisscross on the grass with a whole bottle of rum between his knees, his eyes caught sight of another familiar face and called out. ❝ Yo, Tommy, ❞ he greeted him, roping him into the great debate, ❝ You gotta have my back on this. Who would win in a fight? One hundred duck sized horses or one horse sized duck? Don't let me down here, man. This is some important shit. ❞

[akeemarcus]

LOCATION: the kitchen FOR: @secndbest

His social battery was running low. It really hadn't taken long, Marcus Kingston had never enjoyed parties the way his brother had. The novelty of big crowds and loud music was lost on him, the kind of guy who would rather be alone in his room with a book of Sudoku and dimmed lighting. But that wasn't the future he had signed up for, and it was a lifetime commitment now. Hiding out in the kitchen while everyone else seemed to be making out in the living room or laughing outside, weary eyes turned at the sound of footsteps, snapping back into his personality before Reeve could notice anything was off. He liked to think he'd gotten pretty good at it by now. ❝ Hey, man, ❞ he greeted him, taking a step backwards to grab a water bottle, holding it out to his . . . friend? ❝ Stay hydrated. I don't want to be carrying none of your asses back to your rooms tonight when y'all can't hang. ❞ But he would ; he knew what it was like when someone didn't get home safely.

[akeemarcus]

LOCATION: somewhere outside FOR: @kcdysb

❝ You want one? ❞ Party blowers were silly, but Kingston didn't really care ; he had bought a bulk pack and he was handing them out to anyone that would take them, making this place a little more obnoxious one noisemaker at a time. It was the little things in life. Bringing his own to his lips, he blew into it as hard as possible, grinning as he lowered it, blurred vision ( from the alcohol, and whatever else he'd been given ) landing on Kody. ❝ Let's goooo, spring break! ❞

[akeemarcus]

His eyes were trained on her face, having to remind himself to breathe in the still of their bubble. It was unusual, how easily everything faded away the moment they sat down — the background noise, the friends he was supposed to be meeting up with. If he could pause time and stay there, listening to her assumptions all night, he would not give it a second thought. There was nowhere else he'd rather be, and no one else he would rather be there with.

Kingston hadn't been particularly interesting in dating since high school ; if Akeem was truly there, in his shoes, he knew he would have hooked up with every pretty girl that showed interest, charmed his way into a few decent relationships by now . . . but Marcus had always been much more anti-social. Whether that was because it was too hard to be noticed with his brother by his side or just who he was, he wasn't sure. And it didn't seem fair to drag anyone into his lie of a life. But there was something about Isla that was far too tempting, dangerously intriguing.

❝ Is that what it says? ❞ He murmured, not as scared away as he should be by how easily she seemed to see through him. When her eyes lifted, his did, too, from her lips to meet her eyes, just a handful of seconds before she was pulling away, taken out of the moment they had been living in.

His dropped hand was immediately reaching out, clasped around her own, rekindling the warmth between them before it could burn out, before he could lose his chance. ❝ Let's see, ❞ he stated, turning her hand so her palm was facing him, discarding his drink somewhere on the floor, not caring if it spilled over or not. The tip of his index finger was careful against her skin, gentle, tracing the most prominent line, his eyes lifting just briefly to catch a glimpse of her face again, to make sure this was okay.

❝ Now, see, this right here says . . . ❞ He hesitated, wracking his brain for something, anything he could say to sound clever or complimentary. He wanted to impress her, but it was a delicate balance ; he didn't want to come on too strong and scare her away. ❝ It says, ❞ he started again, the silence beginning to bloom between the pause of his words adding pressure to the moment. In his slightly intoxicated state, her eyes on him, he could not bullshit his way out of it. ❝ It says I don't know what the fuck I'm doing, ❞ he admitted, a laugh, sheepish and hopeful, released with his breath, a glimpse of him, of Marcus showing itself . . . but he did not drop her hand.

WHEREABOUTS SECURED: ALPHA DELTA PHI.   CAUGHT THE QUIETEST CROOK OF THE PARTY WITH @akeemarcus

the couch sighed beneath their weight,   old springs creaking like they were tired of holding people together.   isla leaned forward,   towel slipping,   hair twisted up in a way that was more accident than effort still dripping faint spots onto her bare knees,   little moons of pool water smearing into her skin.   the chlorine clung sharp and insistent,   mixing with the vodka humming beneath her skin,   nerves strung loose and electric.   the party was a roar somewhere out there—too loud,   too fast,   too feral.   but here,   in this pocket of stillness,   she had his hand in hers,   and it was enough to keep her tethered,   if only barely.

she ran her finger down the length of his palm,   slow,   like she could peel back the skin and see what he was made of.   “ this one, ” she stops on a scar that cut through the middle,   “ is trouble.   or heartbreak.   or maybe just an accident. ”   the words felt slippery,   half-formed,   like they might fall apart if she wasn’t careful,   but she wasn’t being careful,   not tonight.

his hand didn’t move,   but she could feel the pulse under his skin,   a steady thrum beneath her touch.   it made her itch,   made her feel like she’d been caught somewhere she wasn’t supposed to be,   like she was trespassing in the quiet of him. like she had stumbled somewhere she didn't mind staying.

“ hands don’t tell the truth, ”   isla murmured,   dragging her nail along one of the deeper lines,   leaving faint pink in her wake.   “ but they tell a story. ” her finger hovered over his wrist,   making lazy,   careless circles. she didn’t know if she was trying to find something or unmake him altogether.

gaze flicked up at him,   her vision tilting the side of his profile,   too close and too far at the same time.   “ what do you think they say about me? ” voice slips off somewhere higher,   but there was something weighing it,   like the question might tip and shatter if he didn’t answer right.

his hand stayed there,   warm and open,   and she hated the way it made her feel raw,   seen in a way that scratched at her edges.   the vodka was louder now,   or maybe it was her heartbeat,   or the bass thrumming through the walls. she laughs at herself in quiet revelation.   inebriation giving way to the blight of insecurity. “ sorry—don’t listen to me, ”   words ease,   letting go,   her fingers twitching like they didn’t want to.   “ i don’t know what i’m talking about. ”