sammiesalazar

[sammiesalazar]

EIZA GONZALEZ via instagram

[sammiesalazar]

closed starter: @cassiagallo location: firefly brewery

"You know, in the amount of times I've been here before... I never really thought about the fact that they do goat yoga here." Sammie glanced at Cassia across their little table and it wasn't disgust on her face, maybe something more like she'd had a revelation. "I know they clean up and all but it's kind of strange to eat and drink where they have goats hopping all around." In her experience, which was kind of limited, they weren't the cleanest of animals. It didn't seem she was too bothered as she reached for her drink and had a swallow, then dipped her fingers into the basket of fries once she'd set the pint back on the table. "Now that I think about it," Sammie chuckled, "it's kind of funny they have yoga classes at a brewery." But then, just a few moments later, after she'd cast a glance over her shoulder when the song playing had changed, "we should come back for trivia night." A confident smile spread as she held Cassia's gaze, "I'm surprisingly good at them. We could be champions, Cass."

[sammiesalazar]

closed starter: @elenaduarte location: upper hand tattoo studio

In Sammie's own private studio within the tattoo shop she sat with Elena after they'd just picked up some Mexican food from a food truck not far down the road. "Don't worry I am fully prepared," she claimed and rolled away on her little seat to a desk she had in the corner of the room. Out of a drawer came a bottle of hot sauce, which she proudly held up to show Elena they would not be left without some heat. "Even when they say there's some spice it's never enough for me," she'd said as she rolled back and offered the bottle to her friend, allowing her to have first use of it. Sammie was often so heavily booked with appointments she had to schedule breaks in her day, block out time so that she could eat or socialize a bit. A busy business was great but it also meant some sacrifices when it came to keeping on top of her social life. "So, fill me in, what's been going on in the world of Elena lately?"

[sammiesalazar]

"Why blueberry?" It sounded a little sweet and a little tart, which would be more up her alley in tastes. Maybe some added heat would be nice. "Pie isn't really a thing in Mexico. The closest we've got is empanadas. Ever had those? And don't you dare say the one from Taco Bell. That doesn't count." There was a hint that she'd be absolutely appalled and possibly offended. Sammie thought for a moment longer, then added, "I had this really good slice of cherry pie once. So, I'd say that's my favorite but I haven't had a lot of experience with pie." As they moved through the crowd she stepped closer to him for a second due to people passing, there was a light hum sound as she thought and considered. "An ice cold beer sounds good right about now," Sammie glanced at Wes, "don't you think? Or would that spoil the pie?" There was a bit of playfulness in her tone, a slight gleam in her eyes.

Wes smiled as she reassured him, glancing down to where her fingers had squeezed his arm. Her touch lingered longer than it should've. As they began walking again, he let their pace fall into step. "Pie is definitely worth it," he insisted, tossing her a sideways glance. "But not just any pie. Gotta be blueberry." He thought of the pies his grandmother makes, one she was known around town for. Warm, with that flaky crust that falls apart if you look at it wrong.. now he was hungry. "You have a favourite? Or are you one of those 'pie is pie' types?" The corners of his mouth twitched like he was teasing, but there was something genuine in the way he asked — like he wanted to know, for real. Truthfully, he felt like didn't know much about her and he wanted to change that. Mostly his fault, given he wasn't much of a talker. "—And alright, let's get you hydrated. What do you feel like?"

[sammiesalazar]

It went without saying that Sammie liked just about anyone that had a bit of fire in them, just especially women. The fairer sex deserved it from the sheer audacity that they had to evolve alongside men. She was a little surprised though by Nia and despite the lift of her brow as she began drawing on the whiskers there was a growing smirk. One that had a punch of pride behind it. "That's so Erica Kane of you," Sammie teased, aligning Nia with the legendary All My Children character.

When she finished with the whiskers on one side she shifted her hand to the other side of Nia's cute little nose. "Absolutely," she boldly claimed with definitive nods of her head, "doesn't matter what it is or how small... I can't allow that." As though she were some authority. "Babe, that's what temp tattoos are for."

Satisfied with the whiskers, Sammie began shading Nia's cheeks with some subtle color but fitting for Miss Bunny. "I can't believe you're pushing it when I have paint to your face," she chuckled, "you're really gonna risk upsetting me right now?"

In attempting to be an obedient canvas, Nia's response came out in a careful wisp. A soft amused hum the precursor. "Oh... very petty." She bit her lip to keep a straight face, fighting against a laugh. "I threw a drink on a guy this past New Years Eve for just... being unlikable and existing at a town wide event, in my defense it was hosted at the resort and I like to think of that as my territory." It wasn't a particularly convincing excuse, to be honest, especially as she was using it as a case of her being petty. "Oh?" Another raspy hint of a snicker slipped through her parted lips, "You'd have me blocked out? Damn. Cold. Even if it was just one of those micro accent tattoos? What if I wanted a cute little heart..." as the words trailed off, Nia raised one of her hands to try and vaguely gesture at her face. A little air circle with her index finger that indicated somewhere near her right eye. Nia wouldn't in fact ask for such a thing, all she could imagine was it was a pain to deal with makeup wise and she'd have to draw it in over her foundation. However, that did not stop her from firing off a few other potential ideas. "Oh! Or, ya know, some permanent glitter! What about a few little sparkle doodles in that... er, like dot style of inking that's supposed to look like glitter?"

[sammiesalazar]

END.

"Thanks, babe," Sammie winked at him with a grin on her lips. For a moment her eyes traveled to their linked hands and the fondness in her heart had a nice cadence to it. Being in the company of those that made her feel like she was somebody was something she'd never give up again in her life. "You're not so bad yourself, you know that?" Travis fingers earned another squeeze from hers and she listened to him fully, the way any real friend should with someone they cared about.

The talent show comment brought up some laughter, but also transported Sammie to childhood stardom and the fact that her experience was a talent show on steroids. "What did your girl do for her talent?" Absolutely interested, she interrupted her thoughts with something happy, something more meaningful. Sometimes a trip down memory lane made her spiral into dark places in her head. "Does she dance? Does she like to dance? I could teach her..." She'd always found children to be fun and she appreciated so much that Travis seemed intent on letting his child be a child.

"Always," Sammie responded to Travis saying he was allowed to just be in her presence. "You're one of a kind, mi hombre, there's only one of you in this world and I happen to like that person very much. I want to see him happy and thriving, receiving all the love he gives... you feel me?" Then, she gave him a sharper look, one brow cocked. "I will fight you if you deny him that."

It was mutual, though. In his company, Sammie felt utterly safe to be herself, and that she'd be accepted regardless of whatever (very rare) flaw that may come out.

With Travis admitting that anything looked good on her, she didn't shy or demure away from the compliment. Instead, Sammie beamed a smile at him. She often wished people were more open with appreciating and praising one another. "Thank you. I would say I just threw it on, but... I knew what I was doing." Another wink was cut loose.

"You're enough, you know? As you are, who you are... you're worth it, Trav. I can't wait for you to start seeing that for yourself." The words followed a bit of silence after he'd thanked her. At first she hadn't known what exactly to say but then it all came and felt easy, because their connection was natural. "Only you can fix you. I'm gonna walk beside you though. I'll hold your hand and be your shoulder should you ever need it. But I have faith in you."

A few moments later, maybe after the weight of things settled in a bit, Sammie easily let Travis pull her away from the bench with the promise of food. "I could actually devour some tacos right now. They better have some sauce that's hotter than hell, though," she commented as she dusted off her black jeans. "Are you a Modelo or Corona man?" A brow was ticked up in interest, something that said there was likely a wrong answer there.

"We need to chat about this owe thing, though..." She humored as she strode alongside the tall man. Much happier for the way they were leaving from the way she'd found him.

[sammiesalazar]

Not only did her friend seem worn and weary, there was an anxiety and an impression that Shane was trying to cling to something that made sense. Sammie knew what it was like to have her life turned over in an upheaval, but she also knew that rock bottom and times of the biggest trials were when people really found themselves.

All the times and all the hours he'd spent under her needle they'd talked about plenty of things and shared pieces of their lives as they bonded. He was a good man, a good dad, but was tormented by abandonment. Just as she was turning the basket around Sammie's hands froze as Shane confided that the woman that had deserted him and their son had come back just as quietly as she'd left.

After a beat she breathed again and lifted her eyes to focus on her friend. "Sounds like it has been," she agreed, nothing short of honesty from her as always. A sigh heaved from her chest and Sammie's head shook. "Shane... you're burning up what's left of your soul for people controlling the narrative of your life." She knew a thing or two about that personally, she'd also had it come from family and people she'd trusted the most.

"I get that with family it's natural to feel bound, to accept and forgive, but please take a moment to fully understand that they've manipulated your reality to make themselves comfortable." In no way would she ever try to sway Shane against his family, Sammie's goal was for Shane to start putting himself first. Well, after his son, maybe. Because wasn't that what everyone else seemed to be doing? Her brow twitched, she wanted to ask about the lies, but it wasn't her business.

"No one owes you their truth, and you don't owe it to anyone else either," she added, taking a moment from the little bunnies she was drawing on the plastic eggs that she was then placing in the basket full of goodies. "But there's nothing wrong with telling and expecting people to either be real and forthright with you or to carry the fuck on." Sammie reached out and gave Shane's shoulder a squeeze, a gesture of support. "That's devastating, amigo, lo lamento. What are you feeling, thinking?"

A bit of a lopsided grin crept onto her lips when she reached for some candy that she was going to organize and shape into a flower. "Want me to kick her ass?"

“Exactly.” He agreed enthusiastically, glad he had at least communicated the dire reality of their situation. She couldn’t say he didn’t warn her now when things completely fell apart. “Considering I have no artistic taste whatsoever, you absolutely don’t need to worry about me trying to put my two cents in.” He answered with a chuckle. 

He grimaced as he finished off the drink, it tasted awful, but the alcohol content was high enough, he knew it would do a great job of helping him forget his dumpster fire of a life. But then she was asking about it and forgetting seemed to be off the table. He let out a sigh, running a hand exasperatedly down his face. 

He supposed getting an unbiased opinion on the whole thing might help? Shane wasn’t usually much of a talker, but Sammie had proven she had a good head on her shoulders and they seemed to think the same way a lot of the time. Maybe she’d have a view point he hadn’t yet thought of. 

Bracing himself, he began, keeping his gaze on a pack of ribbons he was fiddling with, as he spoke. “Well, I just found out that my son’s mother, who disappeared without a trace seven years ago is not only alive and well, but back in town for some cryptic reason, and that most of my family have kept some pretty big secrets from me over the years.” Shrugging, he turned to face her, head on. “So it feels like a lot of my life has been a lie right now.” 

[sammiesalazar]

"Thanks, babe," Sammie winked at him with a grin on her lips. For a moment her eyes traveled to their linked hands and the fondness in her heart had a nice cadence to it. Being in the company of those that made her feel like she was somebody was something she'd never give up again in her life. "You're not so bad yourself, you know that?" Travis fingers earned another squeeze from hers and she listened to him fully, the way any real friend should with someone they cared about.

The talent show comment brought up some laughter, but also transported Sammie to childhood stardom and the fact that her experience was a talent show on steroids. "What did your girl do for her talent?" Absolutely interested, she interrupted her thoughts with something happy, something more meaningful. Sometimes a trip down memory lane made her spiral into dark places in her head. "Does she dance? Does she like to dance? I could teach her..." She'd always found children to be fun and she appreciated so much that Travis seemed intent on letting his child be a child.

"Always," Sammie responded to Travis saying he was allowed to just be in her presence. "You're one of a kind, mi hombre, there's only one of you in this world and I happen to like that person very much. I want to see him happy and thriving, receiving all the love he gives... you feel me?" Then, she gave him a sharper look, one brow cocked. "I will fight you if you deny him that."

It was mutual, though. In his company, Sammie felt utterly safe to be herself, and that she'd be accepted regardless of whatever (very rare) flaw that may come out.

With Travis admitting that anything looked good on her, she didn't shy or demure away from the compliment. Instead, Sammie beamed a smile at him. She often wished people were more open with appreciating and praising one another. "Thank you. I would say I just threw it on, but... I knew what I was doing." Another wink was cut loose.

"You're enough, you know? As you are, who you are... you're worth it, Trav. I can't wait for you to start seeing that for yourself." The words followed a bit of silence after he'd thanked her. At first she hadn't known what exactly to say but then it all came and felt easy, because their connection was natural. "Only you can fix you. I'm gonna walk beside you though. I'll hold your hand and be your shoulder should you ever need it. But I have faith in you."

A few moments later, maybe after the weight of things settled in a bit, Sammie easily let Travis pull her away from the bench with the promise of food. "I could actually devour some tacos right now. They better have some sauce that's hotter than hell, though," she commented as she dusted off her black jeans. "Are you a Modelo or Corona man?" A brow was ticked up in interest, something that said there was likely a wrong answer there.

"We need to chat about this owe thing, though..." She humored as she strode alongside the tall man. Much happier for the way they were leaving from the way she'd found him.

Travis lets out a long breath, as if something he’s been holding back finally has somewhere to go. Her words are so gently spoken, and yet they strike with the force of a truth he’s needed to hear for a long time. He turns his head just slightly as she leans into him, her arms wrapped around his, her head on his shoulder—and for a second, everything stills. All the noise around them, quiets.

He doesn’t move, doesn’t speak. Just sits there with her, letting the moment do what moments like this are supposed to do—remind a man like him, that he’s not alone. That maybe he doesn’t have to carry all this weight, all the time. That someone still sees him.

When she pulls back and tells him she’s proud—of him, no less—it hits something tender inside of him he didn't know still existed. Something he doesn’t usually let people near. And when she calls herself the “sexiest Yoda ever,” he actually laughs, full-bodied this time, shaking his head like he can’t believe this woman is real.

“You’re somethin’ else, Sammie,” he murmurs, glancing over at her with that familiar crooked grin that only ever shows up when he’s caught off guard—in the best way.

Her words keep echoing even after she stops talking. Why fight for something that isn’t fighting for me? He thinks about that. Chews on it a little. It's a truth he hadn’t wanted to face before, because if he had, he would've had to admit how long he'd been trying to hold a door open that no one was walking through anymore.

When she calls him mi hombre, it hits him in a different way—warm and steady. That squeeze of her hand feels like someone grounding him to the earth again, and his fingers instinctively curl around hers in return.

He meets her eyes then, and there’s something clear in his expression now—less fog, more clarity. “You really don’t scare easy, do you?” he says, his voice low, with a thread of something like wonder in it. “Hollywood and prison... damn. And here I was, thinkin’ Sadie’s third-grade talent show was the scariest thing a person could survive.”

He gives her hand another gentle squeeze. “You’re right, though,” he adds after a pause. “A relationship shouldn’t be a solo act. I spent so long tryin’ to be what I thought I was supposed to be, I didn’t even realize I was standin’ there alone. Feelin’ like a damn ghost. But with you…” He shakes his head slightly, a soft laugh slipping out again. “With you, I feel like I’m back in my own skin again. Like I’m allowed to just... be.”

At the mention of the hat, Travis glances down at it again and smirks like he’s already picturing Wes throwing a fit over the damn thing going missing. "It did look good with your outfit, by the way," he reassures her, trying to sound casual but failing miserably. "Though frankly, anything looks good on you." He takes the hat from her then and gently sets it aside next to him, "But yeah, I'll get it back to him. After I let him stew about it for awhile."

There's another pause, quieter now. Before he goes on to add, “Thank you by the way. For lettin’ me fall apart without tryin’ to fix me. For not runnin’. For remindin’ me what it feels like to be cared for without strings or conditions attached.”

His eyes linger on her face a moment longer, studying her with that same quiet awe he used to look at the stars with when he was a kid—like maybe, just maybe, something out here was worth believing in after all. Then he nudges her arm again, a little gentler this time. “You hungry?” he wonders, standing slowly, tugging her hand up with his. “Think I saw a taco stand still open, and I feel like celebratin’ not drownin’. Plus, you owe me one for sendin' me on an errand run.”

His grin is back now—real, unguarded, maybe even a little hopeful. And for the first time in a long time, Travis Marshall is willing to walk toward the lights with something that feels a whole lot more like peace than dread.

[sammiesalazar]

"I'm good," she said easily, though her eyes still surveyed around them for a moment. At the reassurance she twisted her upper half a little so that she could reach out and give Wes' arm a squeeze, then moved alongside of him as they headed toward some pie. "Hmm... so pie is worth it," playfully Sammie tapped a finger against her chin, eyes slightly narrowed for a moment like some evil mastermind, "good to know." It wasn't until Sammie had moved to the south that she'd gotten the full experience of pies and now she was all too curious. "So, what's your favorite kind?" Her guess would've been something traditional. "But don't worry, I'm not gonna cramp your style. I need to get me something to drink."

Wes let out a low chuckle, shaking his head as a crooked grin tugged at the corner of his mouth. "Most tell me I'm better off keeping my trap shut, but.. if you say so," he replied, amusement colouring his features but the glint in his eye told a different story — one that appreciated her for accepting his dumb ass and his apology. When the scream rang out, she jumped, and Wes reacted on instinct. His hand slipped from his pocket, brushing against the small of her back as she moved closer, steadying her even though she was already laughing it off. "You okay?" he murmured, he concern real beneath the half-smile tugging at his lips. Then, after a pause, he glanced down at her again, the grin returning. "Well, if I'm gonna risk getting my face smashed in, it better be for something worth it." His thumb brushed gently at her back before he dropped his hand, eyes flicking toward the food stalls. "So yeah, consider that an invite."

[sammiesalazar]

"No, you be careful," Sammie shot back, her usual flare of passion resurfaced amid the serious conversation, but the look in her eyes was a blend of guarded vulnerability and a warning. "I wouldn't know how to handle someone that wasn't using me or manipulating me... or only wanted parts of me." Love, in any form, had been a weapon and a source of control against her throughout her entire life.

As she listened to Travis it was very clear that he'd been ruminating on this all for a very long time. He knew. The man just had too big of a heart and hadn't been able to walk away long ago because he was the type that had always sacrificed and put others first. Sammie hated that for him. Of course she appreciated his heart but it made her feel for him and all the love he'd missed out on.

Usually Sammie was the talker and often felt as though she said too much. That she bored people or annoyed them. It never really stopped her, though. Someday, maybe, there'd be a person out there that enjoyed listening and yakking back and forth with her. In the present it was just really so nice to hear someone else's voice, for them to open up, and when Travis bumped her arm she wrapped her arms around his for a moment and rested her head on his shoulder.

"It makes me sad that you haven't been loved properly. That someone could so easily take you for granted." Despite not having been in a relationship that had been quite as longterm as his, Sammie was aware that complacency could grow easily. "But I'm glad you're waking up to what you deserve. I'm happy you want enough for yourself to face the hard stuff coming up... to not only be free of that weight, but also to give that ticker a chance at something that lights you up again."

After another lingering moment she righted herself and heaved out a sigh. "You know... I've always had this mentality of why fight for something that isn't fighting for me, or... why want something that doesn't want me, and... I think I might have been right all along in that outlook." Sammie looked at him. "A relationship shouldn't be something you do alone. It involves the work of two people."

Then, following a laugh, "God, I'm like the sexiest Yoda ever!" She grinned at him and then mildly shook her head to shake off the spot of ridiculous humor. "Seriously, though... I'm proud of you for waking up and deciding to fight for you. That's going to make a big difference in yours and Sadie's lives."

When Travis took her hand another smile flashed on her lips and Sammie was happy to just sit there with him, enjoy the dusk, and hold hands affectionately with someone she had grown so fond of over the years. He was a good man and she appreciated him.

"Mi hombre," she pulled her gaze away from the dimmed sounds and sights going on in the distance and gave his hand a squeeze, "you couldn't scare me off. I survived Hollywood and prison. And you're a lot better than you realize." She flashed an affectionate smile at her friend. "You might literally be one of the most refreshing people I've ever known. Thank you for trusting me and caring enough to let me be this moment and person for you."

Regarding the hat and smirking a little to herself as Travis rattled on about Wes, she found herself nodding at some things he'd said. Sammie's fingers pushed the hat closer to Travis. "Would you mind doing me a favor and make sure that gets back to him?" When her gaze lifted away from it and moved off of the man next to her to take in the lights across the field something in her resigned. "It looked good with my outfit," she shrugged.

Travis lets the weight of her words settle over him like a heavy blanket—warm, but stitched with truths he’s been avoiding for far too long. Her touch, her presence, her unwavering way of cutting through the noise—it all pulls him in and grounds him like few things ever had.

A low chuckle rolls out of his chest at her light teasing, but there isn’t a trace of dismissal in it. “Careful, woman,” he murmurs, casting her a sideways glance. “Keep talkin’ like that and I might start thinkin’ you’re my damn therapist and my soulmate.” He smirks, but it's softer this time. No armor. Just tired affection.

He runs a hand down over his face, the stubble rasping under his palm as he leans forward again, elbows braced on his knees, hat now forgotten between them. Her words echoing—Who's got this? As she lightly taps his sternum. That's when he realizes, he doesn’t have a damn answer. Not a real one, anyway.

“Nobody,” he admits after a beat. “Ain’t nobody got this. Not really. I guess I just... got used to thinkin’ I was supposed to be the one who always had it. Like, if I didn’t, it’d all fall apart. Sadie’s life. My job. Everythin’ that ever felt like it mattered. I was scared if I stopped carryin’ it, it meant I didn’t care anymore. But you’re right, Sammie. I’m lettin’ myself down. And that ain’t the kind of story I want Sadie to grow up watchin’.”

He exhales slowly, staring out at the lights of the fair, blurring in the distance like fireflies. “I stayed in something too long. You know the kind—where you’re more in love with the memory than the person standin’ in front of you, I guess. Where every day you think, if I just try a little harder… But all you’re doin’ is bendin’ into shapes that don’t fit anymore.”

His voice drops, lower now, like he isn’t sure if he is talking to her or just finally admitting it to himself. “I thought maybe if I held on long enough, things would come back around. But some things don’t circle back. Some just… end. And I guess I kept mistaking endurance for love. But love ain’t supposed to leave you feelin’ like a fuckin' ghost.”

There's a pause. The kind that feels like it might never end. “I didn’t wanna say it out loud. Not ‘cause I’m ashamed, but ‘cause once it’s out there, it’s real, y’know? I’m done, Sammie. With the relationship. With the idea of fixin’ it. I keep tryin’ to patch holes in a boat that sank a long time ago, just for Sadie’s sake. But she don’t need a perfect picture—she needs a present father. A whole one. Not one who’s barely hangin’ on.”

He looks over at her then, eyes red but resolute from the weight of his confession. “I think I’m ready to stop drownin’. Or at least stop callin’ it swimmin’.”

Then, almost sheepish, he cracks a tired grin and nudges her arm. “You’re dangerous with that honesty of yours. It cuts cleaner than a scalpel, but somehow don’t leave any scars.” He gives her a small shrug. “I ain’t good at talkin’ about this stuff. But you make it easier.”

His hand finds hers again—and this time, he holds on just a little bit longer. “So now that I’ve spilled all that out… you still stickin’ around? Or is this the part where I've scared you off?” His smile turns playful, but his eyes—those stay sincere. Even while he takes in the hat now, finally, and notices it looks familiar. Probably because he saw it on Wes's big, fat, dumb, head earlier when he strong-armed the poor guy into a blind date with Cynthia. "What are you doin' with Little Parker's hat, anyway? You steal it off the back of his truck or somethin'? He'll lose his mind when he realizes it's gone. Guy doesn't like people messin' with his routine. He gets weirdly hot about it."

[sammiesalazar]

For a moment Sammie just stared at his back as he leaned over the engine bay of her Bronco. When he looked back her gaze was already there. "Isn't it?" Brow quirked. "Wouldn't you want to be a good tease?"

There was no reaction at first but a smirk slowly spread on her lips. Enzo was obviously trying to get a rise out of her, to rile her up. "I'll worry about you if you do. You'll break down the impression I have of you as bright and observant," she tossed back.

Then she stepped closer, a lot closer, maybe a little less than a step back from his side. "Let me ask you something, mi hombre. Do you think I was released early on good behavior, or do you think I served my full sentence?" Much like a cat, Sammie held Enzo's gaze while her finger found his phone on the radiator support and slowly began pushing it toward the edge.

Enzo let out a low chuckle, the kind that tugged at the edges of his mouth and settled into his chest. “Horrible tease?” he echoed, glancing over his shoulder as he leaned over the hood of the Bronco once again. “You say that like it's a bad thing.”

The mechanic loosened the bolt with a practiced flick of his wrist, though his focus clearly wasn’t on the engine alone. While he certainly got more work done when he was left alone in the garage, the company at least made his day go by a little faster. “Jefe, huh? Keep talking like that and I might start thinking you enjoy having someone tell you what to do.”

This time as he shot her a glance, Enzo's brow lifted. It was hard to say just how much the woman would put up with, though he sure was having some fun pushing her buttons. “Not that I’m judging. I just didn’t have you pegged as the obedient type.”

[sammiesalazar]

"I've been told I have a way with words," Sammie grinned a bit. Honesty, sometimes bluntly put, could always be expected from her. After she'd been manipulated and lied to so much from the start of her life to early adulthood, she couldn't fathom bending the truth to someone. Hard earned lessons had come through experience and that whole saying it's better to hurt someone with the truth than comfort them with a lie was how she lived and treated others.

The more Travis let out the more her nod began to look like she was a bobble head. "Emotionally exhausted," Sammie corrected for him, "your heart is worn the fuck out. You're out here," an animated person when she spoke, her hand gestured toward the fair, to the people they knew inside of it, "tending to everyone else but Trav, my man, who's taking care of you?" Her other hand eased towards him and her fingers gently tapped at his sternum. "Who's got this?"

When she pulled her hand away she threaded her fingers into her hair, effectively combing it back while she basked in the fading light. "That's beautiful," she commented on Sadie's words of wisdom, "and something we all need to keep in mind." The grind of adulthood could burn out so much of that and leave a person feeling like nothing but ash.

There was silence for a good couple of minutes after Travis cracked himself open a bit more. Sammie liked being able to see this side of him, and she appreciated even more that he wasn't fearful of showing it to her. Finally she shifted forward and angled toward him, her arm went to rest on his shoulder. "No, no, hombre mío, escúchame..." For a moment Sammie's eyes bored into his profile. "You're letting you down and that's the example you're setting for your baby, you get me?"

This man was a damn good father and one of the more attentive and astute people she'd ever known. Yet, Travis, like most people, honestly, had a blindspot where hisself was concerned. "Whatever it is... please understand that sometimes things run their course. You let go and you stop dragging it around, learn the lesson, stop repeating the cycle... it's scary and it feels bad because you've got a big heart and nostalgia lies, my man, telling you how good things were. But you're responsible for your happiness and quality of life. Let your little girl see you happy and shining, let her see it from your pretty eyes."

The hat being offered back, Sammie took it with a faint little smile and then set it aside on the table. "That's a really nice thing to say, thank you." When he took her hand she gave his a squeeze. It said, 'I'm here, I got you'. Maybe it even had the power to convey how much she understood and got it in her own way.

"Aww just when I was starting to think we were taking this to the next level," Sammie teased and winked, then watched as Travis laid back a bit. "But yeah... have you ever heard that nobody comes into your life at the wrong time?" She wiggled her brow at him and then looked up at the fading sky for a moment, some stars were staring to appear. "You know, I'll tell ya what, Trav... it's been a really long time since I've felt this comfortable talking to someone." Reaching out she gently tugged his hair. "You're genuine and a good friend. Thank you."

They weren't even talking about her but Sammie just felt comfortable being fully herself around him. She didn't have to hold anything back. A sigh was practically squeezed out of her. "What's going on, what's this all about?" Maybe he hadn't said the specifics for a reason but she also felt that letting that out could help relieve some of the pain and pressure.

Trav takes the bottle from her without much thought, the coolness of it, feeling almost grounding in his hand. He doesn’t open it right away. Just rolls it between his palms like it may crack open some hidden answer. Meanwhile, her hat sits crooked on his head, while he doesn’t bother to fix it. It probably looks ridiculous, but somehow feels like a piece of armor—a small offering from someone who sees him without all the layers he wears for the rest of the world.

Her words eventually work their way under his skin more effectively than any tequila ever could have. She always did have a knack for hitting the center of things, like a pinata. Like, she could spot the weak seams other people think they’ve hidden. Travis lets the silence stretch between them another moment longer, the sounds of the fair drifting back in like a radio station just out of tune.

“Goddamn, Sammie,” he finally mutters, the corner of his mouth twitching upward into something that isn’t quite a smile but is close enough. “You always talk like you got one foot in a poem and the other in a war zone.”

He tilts his head toward her, eyes bloodshot now but sharp beneath them. “You’re right, though. About all of it. About me pouring from an empty cup, about bendin’ so far I’m one gust away from snappin’.” His gaze falls to the ground between his boots, voice dropping. “Feels like I’m just… tired in my bones. Like no amount of sleep or good intentions could fix it at this point.”

There's a beat, followed by him cracking the bottle open, taking a long pull, exhaling like maybe drinking water was just the small act of redemption he needs. His leg shifts while he leans forward, elbow resting on his knee, head bowed, and the light from a nearby lantern catches his tattoo.

“She used to draw random shit all the time. No care in the world if it looked like anything real. Said things didn’t gotta be perfect to mean something.” He rubs at the back of his neck. “Wish I could see the world that way again.”

He turns to look at her much fully now, his expression more open than he usually lets himself be. “That thing you said about being selfish with yourself? I don’t know how to do that without feelin’ like I’m lettin’ someone down. Like maybe if I stop carrying all this, it means I didn’t care enough to keep holdin’ it in the first place.”

His jaw works, like he's chewing on words too big to swallow. “I don’t want to be stuck here, Sammie. Not in this head, not in this damn place between tryin’ and drownin’. And I sure as hell don’t wanna be some ghost in Sadie’s memories—just the guy who almost made it.”

He pulls the hat off his head finally, looks at it for a second, then hands it back to her with the faintest of smiles. “You’re somethin’ else, you know that?” he tells her, voice quieter now, gentler. “Like a lighthouse in a place where the maps all got burned up. You don’t fix the pain, not really—but you make it hurt less bein’ near you.”

Another pause. His hand finds hers briefly—calloused, warm, rough from work but steady. Not asking for rescue. Just... anchoring.

“You ever think maybe we were supposed to find each other?” His brow furrows, and he half-laughs again, more self-aware this time. “Not in a meant to be kinda way—ain’t tryin’ to be one of those guys. Just… maybe we both both needed someone who gets it from time to time. Who doesn’t flinch when the ugly parts start to show.”

He squeezes her fingers gently before letting go and leaning back, letting his head rest against the bench.

“Anyway, thanks for not lettin’ me sit in the dark by myself for too long. You’re one of the few people who doesn’t make me wanna disappear.”

[sammiesalazar]

"You're sweet but detrimental to my ego," Sammie joked, though there might've been a vein of truth there. "And hey, you're very knowledgable. I would've been completely clueless out here without you." A little laugh bubbled up over how she'd somewhat aimlessly jumped into something, which was very much her way of doing things much of the time, and had ended up ready to set off a lantern in a meaningful way.

For some reason Sammie wouldn't have pegged Cyn for a conspiracy theory type, and she wasn't prone to rabbit holes herself, but she found herself utterly fascinated now. "So what's one of your favorite or maybe most recent conspiracy theories you've gotten into? Is it just from TikTok or are you actually like Mel Gibson in that film?" Another little smirk cropped up but Sammie was genuinely interested.

As she listened she leaned a little further back on the table and nodded her head as Cynthia spoke of something that called up her past. "I know it's a lot and it can be tough to navigate a lot of the time but it's really important that you just be true to you. Don't lose yourself or who you are by catering to an audience, you know? You're not gonna please everyone and there's literally always going to be haters no matter what you do." After a beat Sammie added, "you're a good person, just let that speak for itself as you do you."

A grin formed as Cyn bumped her shoulder but she pushed off the table as her friend shared. She picked up her lantern as sunset was nearly upon them. "See... you're just a really good person. I'm over here fully in 'my parents can get fucked' life and loving it." With one hand Sammie reached out and gave Cyn's arm a little squeeze. "Are you ready?"

     ❝ ⸻ I don't think it's in the realm of possibility for you to be annoying, ❞ Cynthia humored, though maintained eye contact through that moment to convey the truth of the statement beyond the smirk on her lips. ❝ Well meaning curiosity is a beautiful thing. I just wish I was more knowledgable to answer it all for you. ❞ The opportunity to be a resource for others felt valuable to Cynthia, and it was something she enjoyed. Which was perhaps why she shared so much about books and publishing with her podcast and through her social media, why she shared confessions others anonymously made. From all of it there was something to take away or learn as part of the audience. ❝ Oh my gosh, ❞ she laughed, ❝ I do the same. I am beyond prone to rabbit holes. Conspiracy theory tok? Don't let me near it. ❞

The response from Sammie was so considerate and the concepts seemed simple. As though she should have figured those out on her own. Though, sometimes, Cynthia saw a wall in front of herself and not a mirror. ❝ Being a presence on social media is just so intense sometimes, ❞ she'd said a little quieter when they were closer together at the table. ❝ The slightest errors and mistakes get blown up so huge. The scrutiny is— ❞ That shake of her head hopefully spoke to her wonder in how Sammie had done it for so long in her life. She'd become a big star, apparently against her will, and Cyn could understand why she walked away from it and enjoyed the peace in the silence. ❝ I chose this, I know that, and social media is a needed tool for my podcasts—but, it's hard not worry about judgements and perceptions. Keeping an image is so important yet utterly daunting and exhausting. ❞ After a big breath was released Cynthia let go of the tension that had been worrying at her shoulders. Too much of her life had become about work.

❝ Well, ❞ she leaned in some and bumped her shoulder against Sammie's, ❝ mine is for my parents actually. For their love to continue to endure, for their health and happiness. ❞ It was selfless, sure. They'd done so much to ensure a good life for her that she was always trying to pay it back. Cynthia was becoming aware that she needed to start rooting for herself more, though. Maybe she should add another wish to send off along with her lantern.

[sammiesalazar]

[sammiesalazar]

After having spent the day under the sun Sammie's body was a little slack with exhaustion. It was impossible to mistake Travis silhouette in the dusky shadows on the picnic benches edging where all the festivities had gone down throughout the day, and she made her way to him with a slightly boozy walk. She wasn't a heavy drinker but Shane had brought her tequila and she'd also had a dirty frescos with some street tacos. The buzz was minimal, just enough to soften the edges.

"How bad to I stick out?" A smile hitched at one corner of her mouth as she stopped in front of a side of Travis she hadn't really experienced before. Sammie looked more like she were dressed for a rodeo rather than something festively spring, but that was her. She'd rather be her own rather than blend in.

Before she moved to take up the spot next to him, lopsided smile still in place, Sammie removed her hat and placed it on Travis' head. "Why the long face, cowboy?" There was a cold bottle of water in her hand that she hadn't opened yet and was passed off to the big man beside her. "Honestly," she shrugged out of the light jacket and tossed her hair back behind her shoulders, then leaned back on her hands, "that could sum up my entire childhood. Even my young adulthood."

Anyone that knew her E! True Hollywood Story was privy to the fact that Sammie had been a cash cow for her parents. She'd literally been a baby when they'd put her to work and when she started making money, they had run her career like a machine. Completely forgetting that she'd been a child and had missed out on everything children her age were getting to experience and discover.

At his nod, she followed his gaze to the girls playing in the distance then she listened and just let Travis talk and emote. "You should've brought it in," her side fell against his for a moment as she bumped him, "I would've loved to see more of this young artists work. If she's taking commissions... I want something to put up on my walls." Sammie had to interject there.

While he spoke she took it all in. There was a rawness he was sharing that he hadn't done with her before and she knew it wasn't easy to be vulnerable in front of someone else. Even when the darkening sky turned the day into a confessional.

"I do, actually..." At that point Sammie had reached out and squeezed a strong shoulder. One that carried too much and didn't budge under the weight of it all. "You've gotta fight for yourself, Trav. Outside of your daughter you've gotta be selfish with you. Stop bending over backwards for people who aren't doing the same for you. You're at a point of trying to pour from an empty cup is what it sounds like."

It was the someone else that bothered her. That had prickled her spine and had Sammie sitting up properly next to him. She turned and angled herself to face him, her knee slightly digging into his leg. Two-thirds of her life so far has been in service of other people so she was sensitive to anyone possibly being taken advantage of. Especially people she adored and considered her people.

"Let go of expectations and hope. Live for now, live for you... indulge in what makes you feel good, and don't feel an ounce of shame from walking away from what doesn't. I'm speaking from experience." She nudged his arm to drink up the water she'd given him. "I hated my life so much it landed me in prison, so believe me when I say whatever it is that's got you sitting here half drunk and alone feeling this way... let go. You can change the course of your life."

status — closed for @sammiesalazar

location— briar ridge spring fling

The dusk is finally settling in, the lanterns are glowing, kids are darting between booths clutching melting chocolate bunnies. There’s laughter, music, but a quiet stillness at the edges too, where the fairground lights fade. Travis is there—on the outskirts, half in shadow, slouched near a picnic table where someone left a half-empty basket of plastic eggs and forgotten prizes. His shirt’s wrinkled, flask long tucked away but evident in his slow, heavy movements. And his leg—where half of Sammie’s art now lives—is bared slightly as if the skin still remembers the sting of the needle and the meaning beneath it.

Travis doesn’t immediately notice her, but the moment he does, he gives Sammie the kind of lopsided smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

"Hey, ink girl,” he slurs gently, voice gravelly, tired. “Didn’t think you’d be here with all these… cotton candy-colored people.” He chuckles, but the sound is dry and tired, like a laugh's that’s been hollowed out by something deeper. His fingers twitch near the edge of the table, like maybe he wants to reach for the flask again but knows better—or at least, knows he should know better.

“You ever get that feeling where your body shows up to the party, but your soul’s still tryna crawl outta bed?” He nods toward the field where kids are chasing each other with confetti eggs, his gaze lingering a little too long on a group of young girls around Sadie’s age.

“She woulda loved that,” he says quietly, almost to himself. “Would’ve made me sit through three egg hunts and a bunny meet-n-greet just to say he was ‘weirdly sweaty.’” His laugh this time is softer, a little more real. “She drew this goofy little chick for Easter last week. I almost brought it in for you to see. Said it looked like me before my morning coffee.” He looks down at his leg then, at the tattoo Sammie gave him not too long ago—Sadie’s drawing etched into his skin, imperfect and priceless.

“You got no idea what it meant, you doin’ that for me. For her. I ain’t good at sayin’ it, but…” He trails off, shrugging one shoulder, eyes glinting with the kind of unshed emotion that lingers when you've already used up all your tears. Then, more quietly: “Did I mess it all up again, Sammie? I tried to be okay tonight. For Sadie. For... someone else. But now I’m here talkin’ to the woman who needles pain into people for a livin’, wonderin’ if maybe you know the secret to making it hurt less.”

He glances at her finally, a little bleary, a little too vulnerable. “You got anything in that magic bag of yours that can fix a heart that don’t sit right anymore, do you?”

[sammiesalazar]

"Está bien, está bien... I guess it's important to recognize where your strengths are and where they... aren't," Sammie grinned a bit at Shane. Despite not having seen the art projects he'd aided his son on his tone and delivery said enough. "But that's why you come bearing gifts," she tipped her chin at the drinks he'd brought along as a peace offering. "I guess I just need to know if one of your strengths is following directions," Sammie winked, he'd always been compliant when in her chair and been shifted around as she inked his skin.

After he'd handed over one of the drinks Sammie had smiled at his comment and her eyes crinkled at the corners a little when he winked. But then she watched Shane down the entire drink in just two, maybe three gulps as she stood there a little surprised. "¿Qué pasa, mi hombre?" With a lopsided grin slowly growing on one side of her mouth Sammie kept her eyes on Shane while she sipped and tasted the drink.

"Don't lie to me," she half teased as she began sifting through the items on the table for the basket. With some ribbon she cut some and tied a cute bow to the handle while her eyes flickered back and forth between what she was doing and her partner in crime. "That was purely selfish and self indulgent. That wasn't about a lack of artistry... soltar la sopa."

Shane shook his head, a laugh bubbling out of him at her insistence. "You should see some of the art projects Elijah has shamefacedly taken back to school after my help." It was no secret that his son had stopped asking Shane for help on any and all creative assignments a long time ago. The eldest Parker had never inherited his mother's artistic flare.

At her question, he cocked his head to the side a bit in confusion until she elaborated. With a bark of laughter he shook his head, "I was just looking for whatever the guy had that would pack the hardest punch." His admission was laced with genuine relief. Given the turmoil going on in his life at the moment, it felt nice to simply enjoy the moment, not worrying about the dumpster fire around him.

A familiar warmth spread through him as she said they were practically family. Sammie had been an unexpected, but very pleasant addition to the rancher's life. And he was grateful that if he had to get through this with anyone, it had ended up being her. He raised his cup in a cheers motion, "Trying to soften the blow of my lack of artistic skill was really just an excuse, I'm definitely drinking." With a wink, he knocked back the drink, nearly downing it in one go. After the week he'd been having, he needed it.