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Circle of Pine and Riddle

Chapter One: Bad Lives Make Good Stories

W/C: 4,964

“And so, if that isn’t big enough for what you’re doing, you could always create the quadruple piston extender, as covered in chapter 13, page 462. If you will all turn to this page, please…”

Grian stifled a yawn, his eyes watering from the effort of keeping them open. He meant no disrespect to Professor Jumbo—really, he didn’t. Redstone engineering was immensely valuable and horribly complex- but none of that changed the fact that it was the most painfully dull subject he’d ever had the misfortune of sitting through. No wonder he’d put off this one required course until his senior year of uni.

At least he wasn’t the only senior, Grian mused as his gaze drifted a few seats away. Scar Goodtimes, sprawled across his chair like a cat in the sun, was doing a splendid job of making Grian look like a model student. The edge of a brightly colored comic book peeked out from his textbook. He wasn’t even trying to hide it. Either he didn’t care or wanted to see if Professor Jumbo would call him out.

“So, are there any questions?” Professor Jumbo clasped his hands, his thick, shiny mustache curling with his grin. When no one raised their hand, he chuckled. “Ah, of course not. It really is quite simple, isn’t it? In that case, do your reading tonight, because next class we’ll be doing a lab! Isn’t that exciting?”

A few groans rippled through the lecture hall. The professor frowned, brushing at his tie as though physically warding off negativity. “Oh, don’t tell me you all aren’t excited! Hands-on learning is the best type of learning! Now, settle down. I have an announcement to make!”

The class hushed, and Jumbo adjusted his tie. “Now, I know not all of you are freshmen, but please listen anyway. This applies to everyone! I’ve been contacted by an up-and-coming entertainment company called The Watchers. They’re looking for participants for a game show competition and are offering tuition relief—or reimbursement—for the winner!”

Grian perked up at the word reimbursement.

“For freshmen, they’re offering to cover all four years of tuition. For older students, they’ll reimburse what you’ve already paid and cover the rest!” Excited murmurs buzzed through the classroom.

“What’s the competition about?” a student called out from behind Grian.

Professor Jumbo chuckled nervously. “Ah, excellent question! And one I… don’t have an answer to! They wanted to keep it mysterious. Fun, right?”

Another student asked, “When and where is this happening?”

“Seattle!” Jumbo announced with forced enthusiasm. “Next Friday! And we’ll be taking a very nice bus. State-of-the-art, even!”

The chatter dulled.

“A bus? That’s like… what, a twenty-hour drive?” someone muttered.

Dr. Jumbo coughed. “Class dismissed! Anyone interested, stay behind! Don’t forget your lab materials on Thursday!”

As students filed out, Grian stayed rooted in his seat. Full tuition reimbursement… that could solve so many of his problems. His eyes wandered across the room and stopped on Scar. The other senior hadn’t budged.

Of all people, it had to be Scar.

Grian didn’t have an issue with Scar. He hardly even knew the guy. He’d seen him- heavens knew he was hard to miss. He might have had a class with him here or there. But he certainly wouldn’t call them friends, or even acquaintances. No, Grian didn’t know this man well enough to dislike him.

Scar Goodtimes had the kind of face you’d see in a toothpaste ad—clean-cut, annoyingly symmetrical, and impossible to dislike without sounding petty. His green eyes were sharp enough to catch anyone’s attention but soft enough to make it seem like they weren’t trying, which was probably the worst part. He wasn’t movie-star handsome, though; there was a lopsided charm to his grin, a casual disarray to his hair, as if he’d just rolled out of bed and still managed to look better than everyone else in the room.

And then there was the scar, a slash across his nose and cheek that should have made him look dangerous but somehow didn’t. It added just enough intrigue to make people wonder without scaring them off. Polite curiosity, not fear.

He was tall, of course. Broad-shouldered. One of those people who looked like they should be wrestling alligators or modeling expensive suits, not reading superhero comics and watching Disney+ in the back of a lecture hall. And yet, for all his shiny charm, there was something Grian couldn’t stand about him—too perfect, too smooth, too... untouchable.

Even Grian could admit he had presence. The kind that made people lean in when he spoke, laugh when he joked, follow when he led. It didn’t matter if he was talking about Star Wars or theme parks or nuclear physics; Scar could sell you a dream and make you believe it was yours all along.

Which was irritating, really.

Really, very irritating.

“So, I assume that you both are here for more information about the competition?” The professor asked, clearing his throat.

Grian simply nodded, as the other student in the room chuckled and closed his textbook. “Now, come on, Dr. Jambo. Who would turn down a wonderful opportunity like this?”

“Ehm- it is Dr. ‘Jumbo,’ but- no, no, nevermind. This is certainly a great opportunity. You both are seniors, correct?” The professor smiled, while beckoning Grian closer.

“Well, I certainly am! Not too sure about pipsqueak over there, though,” Scar said, pointing his head towards Grian, who was making his way toward them.

“Pipsqueak?” Grian said, the offense slipping into his tone making it sound higher pitched than he would have liked. He was not short. He may not have been as tall as Scar, but he was certainly not ‘pipsqueak’ status.

“Ooh, what an accent! ‘You from across the pond?’” He asked in a terrible British accent, prompting Grian to scowl.

“Yes, I am a senior. And yes, I am from the UK.” He scoffed.

“Lovely! Lovely. Good to see you both are getting along.” The professor laughed nervously, before handing them both some papers. “Here’s the permission slips to go on the trip. Have them turned in as soon as you can.”

Grian then quirked an eyebrow as Scar flipped to the last page, scrawled his signature on the bottom line, and handed it back to the professor. “Sounds good!”

“...Ah! Um. Okay, then.” Dr. Jumbo tucked it into a folder. “One more thing. I was… expecting a few more people to be interested in the trip…”

“Me too! Man, people have no sense of wonder and whimsy in this day and age.” Scar shook his head. “Who wouldn’t want to compete in a super fun game show?”

“So he’s not even in it for the prize money… of course. Why would he need it? People like him never do.” Grian thought to himself, judgmentally.

“Well. See, the thing is, the school agreed to cover the cost for the trip… as long as more than five people attend.”

“...Ah.” Grian sighed. He definitely wasn’t paying out of pocket for the chance to win money.

“No, no, no! Don’t make that face! Listen, if either of you have any friends who attend this school, that would work out! Yeah?” Dr. Jumbo offered nervously.

Scar sighed and snapped his fingers. “Man, if only my best buddy Cub hadn’t gone abroad this semester! He would have been so down for this.”

The professor's face fell further, and Grian huffed. “I suppose I can ask my younger brother… and he has a good few friends who are the… impulsive type.”

He perked up, and Grian swore he saw his mustache curl up at the ends. “Oh, isn’t that just wonderful? Well, I won’t keep you much longer. Let me know if there are any updates!” He gave them both warm smiles.

Grian nodded curtly and grabbed his bag, keeping his face as neutral as possible. He could still hear Scar’s bright, effortless laughter as he stepped into the hallway, and for some reason, it made his jaw clench.

He shook his head, muttering under his breath. “Honestly. Who’s that cheerful over paperwork?”

Scar’s face—annoyingly symmetrical, stupidly charming, absolutely not worth thinking about—flashed briefly in his mind. Grian scoffed at himself, glaring at the floor as he walked. He didn’t dislike Scar. He didn’t like him either. He was just...there. Obnoxiously. Intrusively. Everywhere.

With a sigh, Grian adjusted his bag strap. A game show, a chance to clear some bills, and Scar Goodtimes for company on a 20 hour trip? This was going to be unbearable.

But tuition reimbursement was worth it. Probably.

He cast one last look at the classroom door behind him and started walking faster, as if that might put some distance between him and the man who, for some reason, still hadn’t left his head.

˖ ݁𖥔.☁︎.𖥔 ݁ ˖

Grian didn’t look up from the vegetables he was chopping as Jimmy came through the door. “How was your day?”

“How was your day?” Jimmy mocked in a posh accent, ditching his bag by the door and walking into the kitchen. “Ugh, stew again? Would it kill you to cook up burgers every once in a while?”

“Well, why don’t you cook then, Timmy?” Grian rolled his eyes, smiling a bit when his brother glared at the nickname.

“Nah. Just feed me better, won’t you?” Jimmy sat himself up on the counter and stretched. You could tell that they were related once you were told, but most people didn’t assume it at first glance. Grian focused on the steady rhythm of the knife against the cutting board, the sharp taps filling the space between them. Jimmy swung his legs idly from the counter, looking like he didn’t have a care in the world—because he didn’t.

It wasn’t fair, really. Jimmy was younger, but he was taller, stronger, and healthier, with that golden hair that always seemed to catch the light just right. By contrast, Grian's hair was a dull, mousy shade of blonde, perpetually messy from rushing between classes, work, and everything else he had to juggle. His glasses kept slipping down his nose, and his hoodie hung loose over his slight frame, doing him no favors.

“Burgers are bad for you,” Grian muttered, dumping the chopped carrots into the pot and trying to focus on the stew instead of the nagging feeling in his chest.

“Not if you make them at home!” Jimmy shot back, grinning. “You can put vegetables in them or something. Isn’t that a thing? Stealth health?”

“That’s not how it works,” Grian said, but his voice faltered. Jimmy laughed, loud and carefree, like he always did. The kind of laugh Grian hadn’t heard himself make in years—not since before everything had changed.

Jimmy leaned back on his palms, perfectly at ease. He had that easy charm that made people gravitate toward him, his honey-brown eyes bright and lively, a stark contrast to Grian’s almost-black ones that seemed to swallow the light. Jimmy fit in wherever he went, while Grian… didn’t. Grian kept his head down, went to class, and came home. That was his life now. School and keeping Jimmy fed, housed, and alive. He was fine with that. He had to be.

“Oi, you’re spacing out again,” Jimmy said, snapping his fingers in front of Grian’s face. “What, are you burning something? Because it smells fine so far.”

Grian swatted his hand away, feigning annoyance. “Get off the counter, you’re in the way.”

Jimmy didn’t budge. “You’re so grumpy, you know that?” he said with a smirk, his golden hair catching the kitchen light just enough to make it look like he’d spent all day in the sun.

Grian shot him a half-hearted glare but didn’t argue. He didn’t have the energy for it, not lately. “You’re impossible,” Grian mumbled, stirring the pot with a bit more force than necessary.

“And yet, here I am, gracing you with my presence,” Jimmy replied dramatically, his grin as blinding as ever.

For a moment, Grian considered throwing a carrot at him. Instead, he stirred the stew again, his reflection rippling in the surface. Jimmy deserved someone better than him—someone who could laugh like that, bright and unrestrained, without the weight of everything pressing down on them. He wished he could be a parent to him, instead of a clueless kid himself.

“Just don’t fall off the counter,” Grian said finally, glancing at his brother.

Jimmy raised a brow, amused. “Oh, don’t worry, mum. I’ll try to survive your world-class cooking.”

Grian sighed, but the corner of his mouth twitched, almost a smile. Almost. “Do you want to go to Seattle?”

Jimmy wrinkled his nose. “Um, why? You having a midlife crisis already? We only just moved to Cali.”

“No, not permanently, idiot.” Grian scoffed, adding more salt to the stew. “One of my professors got this offer for this competition up north. They… they offered to cover the winner’s full tuition.”

Jimmy’s eyes widened. “Shit, really? Like, the whole thing?”

“Yeah.” Grian said simply, turning the heat down to a simmer.

“Huh, never took you as the type to take risks. Are we really that strapped for cash?” Jimmy snickered, but then hesitated when he saw Grian’s expression. “...Wait, G? Do we really not have the money?”

“Look, don’t worry about it. Just focus on getting through college. But yeah, it would be a huge load off my back if at least one of our tutions were covered.” Grian said, filling a spoon with broth and handing it to Jimmy. “Taste test?”

Jimmy took a sip and nodded appreciatively. “Mmm, cloves?”

“Yup. Does it work well?”

“So good.” He stuck the spoon back into the spoon and took another sip. “And of course I’ll go. I’d never let my poor, timid older brother be stranded all alone up north!”

“Ugh, shut it. You brat.” Grian said fondly, pouring a bowl of stew for his brother. “Oh, and also… Do you know anyone else who would want to go? Apparently the school will only pay for us to go if we have a certain number of people.”

“Oh! I’ll ask Joel. He’d totally be down.” Jimmy enthused, picking out some mushrooms from his stew and putting them on a napkin.

Grian rolled his eyes. Of course… Joel. Jimmy’s best friend since they were, what, eight? He never liked the kid, he was loud and obnoxious. “First of all, eat your vegetables. Second of all… any other friends?”

“Mushrooms aren’t vegetables, they’re fungus. And Joel is great! I love Joel, he’s my best mate! And he’ll probably bring Lizzie along- you like her! You said she was ‘intelligent’.”

“Correction: I said she was too intelligent to be dating him.” Grian tsked, scooping more produce into Jimmy’s bowl. “But fine, fine, do what you want.”

Grian caught his own reflection in the kitchen window—his tousled hair, the dark rings under his eyes from too many late nights spent juggling assignments and worrying about bills. He couldn’t remember the last time he had let himself relax.

“Well, you’ve got a plan now, right?” Jimmy asked, licking his spoon clean. “Joel and Lizzie are in, and you’ve got me. This could actually be fun! If we’re lucky, we could win that tuition money, and you won’t have to worry about—”

“I know.” Grian cut him off, his voice a little quiet. “But I still have to make sure it all works out.”

Jimmy slid off the counter, stretching with a yawn. “Yeah, yeah, I know. But hey, we’ve got this, G. Don’t stress it too much. It’ll be an adventure, and that’s something, right?”

Grian didn’t know if he was convinced, but he nodded anyway, offering his brother a tight smile. “Yeah. Maybe.”

Jimmy grinned back at him, oblivious to Grian’s unspoken worries. “Alright, well, I’m gonna go call up Joel. Don’t burn down the kitchen, okay?”

“I won’t,” Grian said, the barest hint of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “Thanks, Timmy.”

Jimmy gave him a thumbs-up as he grabbed his phone, heading for the living room.

For a moment, Grian stood alone in the kitchen, staring at the simmering pot. He grabbed his phone and sent out a few texts of his own. It might not be easy, but if there was one thing Grian knew how to do, it was make things happen.

˖ ݁𖥔.☁︎.𖥔 ݁ ˖

WATCHERS ENTERTAINMENT: PARTICIPATION AGREEMENT

This Participation Agreement (the "Agreement") is made and entered into as of the date signed below by the undersigned participant (the "Contestant") and Watchers Entertainment, a Washington state-based organization ("We," "Us," "The Watchers"), collectively referred to as "The Parties."

1. PURPOSE OF AGREEMENT

By signing this Agreement, the Contestant agrees to participate in the competitive event (the "Event") hosted by The Watchers Entertainment. The Event will take place at a location(s) undisclosed prior to commencement, and the Contestant agrees to follow all instructions, rules, and procedures as outlined by The Watchers Entertainment prior to, during, and after the Event.

2. ELIGIBILITY AND PARTICIPATION

Eligibility: Participation is exclusively available to individuals who are attending an accredited university and who are over the age of 18.

Competition Details: The Contestant acknowledges that the full details, format, and rules of the Event are confidential and will not be disclosed until the Event has commenced. Contestants understand and agree that they will not receive specific information about the challenges until they are being executed.

3. CONDUCT DURING THE EVENT

The Contestant agrees to:

Participate in the Event voluntarily, adhering to all instructions and rules as set by The Watchers.

Refrain from engaging in any behavior that could endanger the integrity or safety of the Event.

Be subject to any changes, modifications, or additions to the Event as deemed necessary by The Watchers, which may include alterations to the format, location, and/or timing of the Event.

4. RISKS AND LIABILITY

Assumption of Risk: The Contestant fully understands and accepts the inherent risks associated with the Event, including, but not limited to, physical injury, emotional distress, mental fatigue, and potential environmental hazards. Contestant acknowledges that The Watchers will not be held liable for any injuries, damages, or losses sustained during the Event.

Indemnification: The Contestant agrees to indemnify, defend, and hold harmless The Watchers, its employees, agents, sponsors, or any affiliated parties, from any and all claims, lawsuits, liabilities, or damages arising from or related to participation in the Event, including, but not limited to, injury, death, trauma, or other personal harm.

No Claims: The Contestant waives the right to pursue any claims, whether civil or criminal, against The Watchers Entertainment for any reason related to the Event, including any unforeseen circumstances or injury occurring during the Event.

5. USE OF IMAGE AND PERSONALITY RIGHTS

By signing this Agreement, the Contestant grants The Watchers permission to film, photograph, and record their participation in the Event, including any pre- and post-event footage, and consents to the use of such materials in promotional and commercial content without compensation. The Watchers may record footage of the contestant at any time, regardless of the knowledge of the participant.

The Contestant further agrees that The Watchers may manipulate, edit, or alter any footage or content for the purposes of creating promotional materials, broadcast, or digital distribution.

6. NO DISCLOSURE OF CHALLENGE DETAILS

Contestants understand that: They will not be informed about the full scope of challenges or tasks until the challenges have been completed. The Watchers retain sole discretion over all challenge-related decisions, including when and how challenges are revealed.

7. LIMITATION OF LIABILITY

In no event shall The Watchers, or any party associated with the Event, be held responsible for any loss of property, emotional or psychological distress, or bodily harm occurring to the Contestant, either during or after the Event. This includes any injuries sustained due to natural hazards or accidents.

The Watchers shall not be liable for any loss, damages, or issues arising out of Contestant's failure to properly prepare for the Event, nor for any actions taken by Contestant during the course of the Event, including unauthorized actions or behaviors.

8. CONFLICT RESOLUTION AND ARBITRATION

Any dispute arising out of or relating to this Agreement or the Contestant's participation in the Event shall be handled exclusively by The Watchers' CEO. The Contestant waives the right to seek resolution through any third-party legal action, mediation, or arbitration. Decisions made by The Watchers’ CEO are final and binding.

9. TUITION REWARD AND WINNING CRITERIA

The Contestant acknowledges that:

The specific criteria for determining winners and the number of winners are at the sole discretion of The Watchers. While the potential for full tuition reimbursement is outlined, the Contestant understands that The Watchers reserves the right to adjust, limit, or eliminate this reward at any point before, during, or after the Event.

Final Decision: All prizes and rewards are subject to final decisions made by The Watchers, including the timing, manner, and distribution of said rewards.

10. ADDITIONAL TERMS

Changes to the Agreement: The Watchers reserve the right to modify, update, or amend this Agreement at any time. The Contestant will be notified of such changes, but continued participation in the Event will constitute acceptance of the modified terms.

Governing Law: This Agreement shall be governed by the laws of the State of Washington.

By signing below, the Contestant acknowledges having read and understood the terms outlined in this Agreement, and agrees to participate in the Event under these terms.

Signature:

Grian X. Solidarity

Printed Name: Grian X. Solidarity

Date: April 25th, 2024

Grian set the pen down as he read over the contract again, stamping down the wary feeling in his gut as he looked at his name penned in the bottom left-hand corner. The clattering of the kitchen utensils and the warmth of the evening seem so ordinary, but here he is, staring down the absurdly legalistic, typewritten terms on the page, each clause more convoluted than the last The contract was heavy with legal jargon and fancy words, but the prize was clear enough.

"Tuition reimbursement." Just like the professor had said.

He’d read that phrase a dozen times now, and each time, it felt like a little knot of tension in his chest tightened. His fingers traced the edge of the paper absently as his mind started to race. The words on the page blurred momentarily as Grian shifted in his seat. He was used to making decisions. He was used to being the responsible one. But this… this felt different. Too much was riding on this.

He looked at the contract again. ‘Assumption of risk.’ ‘Indemnification.’ ‘No claims’.

His fingers tightened around the edges of the paper. “They won’t take responsibility for anything. Not dangers. Not injuries. Nothing.” The thought of some unknown challenge, something they could change at will, gnawed at his gut. He couldn’t help but think of all the twisted legal loopholes in contracts that he’d seen referenced in those documentaries. The ones about people getting duped into signing away their lives for a chance at fame or fortune. Was this any different? Of course it wasn’t.

“Alright, here we go, Grian. Just hand it in, embarrass yourself on television, get the money, pay the tuition, get Jimmy’s life back on track. Simple.” He muttered to himself, pushing his glasses up his nose. His little brother didn’t deserve to live in his one-bedroom flat, eating the same stew Grian had made almost every day that week because he couldn’t afford to buy them meat. He should have been back home, with their parents, being young and reckless and not having to worry about whether his older brother was going to be able to pay his phone bill that week.

If the competition was anything stupid or dangerous, he would make Jimmy back out. If they took away the prize, he would back out as well. No harm, no foul.

He sighed and filed it in away in his bag.

˖ ݁𖥔.☁︎.𖥔 ݁ ˖

“Alright, attendance one last time before we head out! Gem?”

“Present!” a girl called out, the only one there Grian didn’t recognize. She had long, curly red hair braided neatly down her back, and light circular glasses that sat on the tip of her nose. She didn’t even look up from her phone, her fingers tapping away on the screen with practiced ease.

“Grian?”

“Present.”

“Jimmy?”

“Here.”

“Joel?”

“Huh? What?” The boy with rich brown hair and a dyed green streak in his bangs looked up from his conversation, his arm still around his girlfriend. “Oh, here.”

“Elizabeth?”

“It’s Lizzie,” the girl with pink hair corrected politely, her voice light but firm.

“Ah, right. Sorry.” Professor Mumbo coughed awkwardly, tapping his pen on the clipboard. “Scar?”

Silence.

“Scar Goodtimes?”

Grian scanned the area, looking for the aforementioned student. The group began to fidget slightly, some checking their phones or adjusting their bags. Then, out of the corner of his eye, Grian saw him: a man half-jogging up to the group in dark blue jeans and a white t-shirt, suitcase tumbling haphazardly behind him.

“Aw, man, I’m so glad I’m not late! I had to drop off my kitty with my mom and I just couldn’t leave her cute little sad face!” Scar said, catching up to the group with his trademark smile, slightly out of breath but no less enthusiastic.

“Oh, well, that’s quite alright. Do try and let me know when you’re running behind, then. Don’t want anyone getting lost.” Mumbo chuckled, crossing his name off the list. He flipped the clipboard shut with a crisp motion. “Alright, then! Is everybody ready? Bags all accounted for? Snacks? Water?”

The group collectively murmured some affirmatives, though Grian was pretty sure Joel hadn’t even looked up to answer. Mumbo took the silence as a yes and began ushering everyone toward the minibus.

“We’ve got a full day of driving until we reach our hotel at 8. Then a couple more hours in the morning, okay? I assure you all that I passed my license exam with flying colors!”

The remark earned a few chuckles, though Grian wasn’t entirely reassured. He lingered at the back of the line, letting the others file onto the bus first.

The bus itself wasn’t exactly cramped, but it wasn’t a typical charter bus either. It was smaller, more like a glorified van with just enough seats for everyone, if they shared. Grian paused in the doorway, scanning the seating arrangements. The scene brought an unwelcome wave of deja vu, memories of scrambling for a spot on grade school field trips flashing uncomfortably in his mind.

Joel was up front, predictably next to Lizzie, who had claimed the window seat. Jimmy sat across from them, but as Grian approached, his little brother pointedly plopped his bag onto the seat beside him, a clear signal. Fine. Grian didn’t care. It didn’t matter.

Further back, the stranger, Gem, had sprawled across both seats with her legs stretched out, chatting animatedly on her phone. Grian’s eye twitched. If he were more confrontational, he might have told her off for hogging the space.

That left… sigh. Scar.

Scar seemed to notice Grian’s predicament immediately, standing up with a wide grin. “Here, you can have the window seat! I prefer the aisle anyway—don’t wanna climb over people if I gotta move!” He stepped into the aisle, gesturing with a salesman’s flourish.

Grian hesitated but relented, muttering a stiff “Thanks” as he slid into the seat. Secretly, he was grateful for the window seat. He hadn’t gotten much sleep the night before; he’d been too busy stressing and fretting over the competition and what his plans were if he didn’t win or it turned out to be a scam or they had to dress in embarrassing costumes or-

“So, you’re a senior too, huh?” Scar’s voice interrupted his spiraling thoughts. “Why haven’t I seen you around? You know, I pride myself on knowing almost everyone in our class. Are you a transfer? A spy? Or, wait—are you just really, really shy and nervous?”

Grian felt his face heat up as he heard Jimmy cough to hide a laugh from the seat in front of them. Irritated, he kicked the back of Jimmy’s seat, drawing a surprised yelp from his brother.

“I—no! I’m not.” Grian huffed, his voice sharper than intended. “I’m not any of those things. I just… mind my own business.

“Yeah, but… hm, I guess you’re just really quiet! And you’re pretty small, so maybe I just didn’t see you!” Scar shrugged carelessly, irritatingly.

Grian scowled and glared out the window as the bus began to move. Everyone always called him short, though he was statistically and verifiably average height. He was sure Scar in all his six-foot glory got some amusement out of it- Jimmy sure did. The day his little brother realized he’d outgrown him was apparently the highlight of his life.

Jimmy… he hoped that idiot had packed properly, like Grian told him to. He wouldn’t let him check his bag, claiming that he wasn’t a child and knew how to pack himself for a trip. Grian found himself slipping an extra toothbrush, toothpaste, hand sanitizer and deodorant into his bag anyway. Just in case of emergencies. He didn’t mean to treat Jimmy like a child, but it was hard not to when his brother loved to act like one!

He stared outside as the homes and commercial buildings gave way to rocky, dusty hills scattered with dark green brush. His head leaned against the window as his body settled into the calming, rocking motion of the wheels against pavement. He would sleep for a bit.

He’d be somewhere new when he woke up.

A/N:

For the rest of the fic, if there is a trigger, "Trigger Warning" will be written in the beginning notes, and the full list of trigger warnings will be at the End notes. Particularly graphic scenes will be separated with a line, and there will be another line at the end of the scene. SFW Summaries of graphic scenes will be at the end!

Updates every Friday

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Next (Coming 12/13/24)

#Circle of Pine and Riddle #desert duo #desert duo fanfic #trafficshipping

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