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"sweet! if i snore, you have my permission to smother me." normally, they'd stay with camille without question, but this trip was a rare chance. he'd gotten to know everyone in some capacity, considered kingston and luke friends at least, but milo wasn't naive enough to think he was actually in anyone other than kody's inner circle. he was invited to serve a particular purpose, one he was happy to deliver on, but he couldn't not at least try to make it more than that. a camping trip with their friends, people who they'd win over by the end of this. it was easy to start with kingston; he was kind, someone milo admired "uhhh...yeah, it's just a bunch of squares and triangles, i think? i haven't done it, but it can't be that hard." they stand, hand brushing over the thin gaps in the cabin walls "can't get too cold at night up here, right?"

❝ 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? ❞

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it was a familiar scene, wandering through neighborhoods and making up stories, though this was a lot more run down than they were used to. milo preferred it this way; when they were a kid, watching the families around them go through their normal day, there was little room for imagination. they could make up names, careers, whatever, but the truth was plainly in front of their face. this was a blank canvas. milo finds, as they haunt this mining town, their imagination has gotten a lot darker. or maybe reality seeped into fantasy still, even without a living person around.

as startled as eliza is, so are they, as they step out of the abandoned corpse of a house and onto a brittle twig, met with the unexpected presence of life. water splattering across their face, they laugh breathlessly "um, yeah. how'd you know?" they point a thumb toward the house behind them "fuckin' mountain of issues with that family."

closed starter ,  milo mendoza  . found amongst the abandoned skeletons of old homes .

— IT WAS A MISTAKE , honestly , to have stumbled into the forgotten neighborhood of debris . cabins that were once the humble homes to miners and their kin , reduced down to ugly relics in a ghost town . her brow knits as she spins in slow circles . this definitely wasn't camp — unless something disastrous had happened in the short hour she'd slipped away for a dip in the lake .

a branch snaps behind her and eliza jumps , a squeal stealing away into the fading - summer air . she spins toward the noise . still heavy with water , trails of wet tickling down the woman's prickled spine , beads fly off her hair like tiny , soft bullets . but , it's easy to catch the culprit : sporting a cap of bright pink hair . " wha-- what are you doing ? " eliza huffs , trying to regain her composure whilst her heart races violently inside her chest . " playing house ?? "

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🫀 : luke sinclair @rottenwrath

📌 : the campfire

⏰ : august 14th, 2023 (1 day before the disappearance of luke sinclair — luke sinclair's birthday)

"there you are, pookie." with a final exhale of smoke, they toss the butt of a cigarette into the fire, carefully calculating how much space to give him before taking a seat next to luke, a decent gap between them "i was gonna give this to you when it hit midnight last night, but i forgot to check the time, so..." they're rummaging around the mess in their backpack before producing a small box, wrapped in simple black paper, and placing it inbetween them "happy birthday!" a dumb smile, light reflecting off of the gems on their front teeth.

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🫀 : camille ortesky @orteskycam

📌 : the fish ladder

⏰ : august 13th, 2023 (2 days before the disappearance of luke sinclair)

no service meant no working, and with work at such a precarious place, milo was losing their mind a little bit. being unable to check in on anything was torture, even when he'd left gordie with everything needed to make sure things went smoothly. they're trying to enjoy nature instead, sit on a blanket in the grass next to a roaring waterfall with their partner and a book, unplug. they've probably reread the same passage a hundred times, leg bouncing anxiously, before they'd given up. tossing the book onto the blanket, he pushes himself to sit up, inching forward until he finds comfort in the crook of camille's neck "let's never not live in a city." they groan into her shoulder, where they press a few kisses after "this nature shit is so fucking boring."

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🫀 : thomas ortesky @seeinghcsts

📌 : railroad tracks (:

⏰ : august 14th, 2023 (1 day before the disappearance of luke sinclair — luke sinclair's birthday)

they're trying with thomas. it feels weird, not going out of their way to piss him off, but there came a point where milo felt afraid they'd ruin everything if they didn't get it together right away. so, they had to put aside their differences, let go of any holdups. it was hard to try and win him over; the fact was, no matter how hard they tried, they both knew milo was never going to be good enough for camille. but they were here to stay. so they take the chance. it's just the few of them alone for the week, ample time to spend together, to build a case for himself. the last two days, however, milo was absolutely failing at their mission. "you ever been on the tracks when a train is coming? i've almost gotten squashed, like, so many times." he's learning he can't really say anything to make himself sound better. half the time, milo doesn't realize until the words are out that whatever they're sharing just furthers their image as a stupid dirtbag. should he just start lying? would thomas like him better then? "i mean like... once or twice." they kick a pebble, watching it bounce off of the tracks "i'm actually very... ʳᵉˢᵖᵒⁿˢᶦᵇˡᵉ..." their voice is getting smaller, and they clear their throat, hand brushing over the top of their head as they search their brain for something, anything to not sound like a moron "it's cool that you're here. not that i didn't think you'd get an invite— i mean, it's cool that we've got, like, mutual friends.. and shit..."

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🫀 : 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.

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why would you do this to me

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"you're suuch a fuckin' liar, dude." they laugh, the lightest punch to his shoulder "milo's, like, a dog name. you ever seen the mask? my parents named me after that dog." at least, that's what they'd been told. and they didn't really trust anything their parents said. drunk people always said stupid shit. it was a funny story, though "akeem's sweet though. so's kingston. is it like a jock thing to go by your last name?"

❝ 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. ❞

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they never claimed to be smart, but when milo feels they've had some epiphany— usually on nights like these, with god knows what running through their system, they're confident in them. right now, they think there's something different about the way reeve's looking at them. something not entirely unwelcome, but unexpected nonetheless. they can't help it, a smile slowly forms as reeve stumbles over his words, the insecurity that they knew had always been present in him bubbling to the surface, past those layers of stoic facade. milo feels a strange sort of power, nothing about them had ever been particularly intimidating to anyone before. this would be a fun one to tell kody and camille later "what, these?" their finger trails over their ear, always shining and well healed. the one visible sign he took care of himself.

"not really. they're pretty low on the pain scale. higher up the ear, the more they hurt." they notice everything when they're fucked up, every twitch of muscle on what could be a marble statue "now what really hurt was these." they miss the first time, but eventually their fingers curl around the neck of the sparkly blue tank, pulling it down until their collarbones— and titanium adorning them, are visible "why?" a mischievous smile "...y'want your ears pierced?"

IT'S SOMEWHERE BETWEEN "y'know, paul mccartney once claimed that one in four men are gay" and "paul and john were probably in some toxic on and off thing" that reeve starts to tune milo out. he knows he should just interrupt, throw the wad of cash in his pocket at milo's face and snatch the little bag of goods they toss between their palms before he can really unpack what he must have done to deserve this. instead, reeve opts to wait it out, allows himself to get distracted by the interesting angles of milo's face. at some point in the night, he took a tab that now makes the slope of milo's jaw particularly thrilling to look at, so he follows it from their chin to their gonial angle, marveling at the sharpness of the bend there, before stopping at their ear where his eyes linger. it's distracting, the way the lights from the party make milo's jewelry sparkle like stars.

it goes quiet, and it takes reeve a moment to realize he's been caught. ❝ oh, uh, ❞ his own voice sounds odd, way too scratchy and nervous— insecure . he chalks it up to the drugs and clears his throat. ❝ no, i was just— did getting all that hurt, or ... ? ❞ he flicks his finger against his own earlobe, completely bare compared to the plethora of huggies and studs decorating milo's.

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they match her enthusiasm in a way they're not used to— being able to keep up with kody was never in their skill set, they were always slower, all lazy smiles. they always sort of envied how much of a light she was, it was funny how easily they could feel exactly the same way. just took a bit of cocaine and a lot of money in their pocket "and like, honestly ko, the guy's willing to pay like... anything." they're too open about it, too happy to exploit him, but it's not something they'd think to reflect on. not tonight, at least "oh, we could totally do that. i was just up there with isla."

"Of course! I would never lie to you." Except when she lied, in which case she was lying, but other than that?? Never! Her grip tightened around his hand as she grinned up at him. "And you shouldn't be cheap! You have the good stuff and if Lucas, Luke - whatever it is - wants to get the right stuff, he has to come to you and that means he has to pay for it." Kody knew she was rambling at this point but she meant every word. Every single one. "It's so good that I feel like I need to be outside on the roof watching the stars or something."

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𝐓𝐀𝐒𝐊 𝟎𝟎𝟒 — 𝘱𝘢𝘴𝘴𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥 , 𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦 !!

the one where sixer justifies not including texts by referring you to their task one

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ETERNAL SUNSHINE OF THE SPOTLESS MIND (2004) dir. Michel Gondry

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"nope." popping the 'P' on the word, they're rocking from heel to toe, a certain giddiness that always came with playing games— being childish, really. every guess is met with a quick shake to their head, lips pressed together in a smile tightly as if to conceal something. that is, until her next suggestion, and they fall open "maybe i'm just a generous grader....." a beat, and soft laughter is tumbling out as the insinuation dawns on them. for a while, they can only point to confirm, nodding, but when they do speak, it's between a series of snickers "like a fuckin' lady finger banana." in their laughter, they lightly grasp the back of the fur coat she wears, coaxing her backwards, away from the edge "i think you can see sinclair better from back here... i say five. is that too much?"

" is it a third nipple? please tell me it’s a third nipple, " isla leans in, voice low and sticky sweet, her laugh brighter than the porch lights strung across the party below. her grin’s crooked, eyes a little too big, a little too hungry. she’s teetering, one step away from testing fate, the edge of the roof her only tether. voice dips conspiratorially, as if they could be heard by the crowd below—a mess of hollers and stinging cold, shirtless frat boys strutting like roosters in the yard. " or, like .. webbed toes? oh my god, is it webbed toes? " the words are syrupy, slipping between teeth. " three stars, huh? well, if we’re grading on a curve .. " the insinuation trails long enough for a burst of laughter to follow. a hand clasped over her mouth in disbelief of herself. " wait, don’t tell me! let me guess. he’s got .. oh my god. he does, doesn’t he? no .. milo, stop—let me have this. "

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their smile is positively impish as an exhale leaves tom, an exasperation they're confident only they can manage to pull out of him. they raise a brow at the answer, not calling bullshit but regarding the shot set down next to them. the temptation to take the cup into surprisingly manicured fingers and down it is strong, he claimed it wasn't for kody after all, but they resist. instead, they listen to the lengthy retort, eyes sparkling with either intoxication or humor. at least, it was lengthy for milo, who could hardly string together sentences that long. they stay quiet a beat after he's finished, too, eyes locked as they drink lime juice until titanium is pressed against bitter pith "that's noble, man. pebble in the water." they drop the peel into a forgotten solo cup.

"you shaming me, tom?" it's unmistakably a giggle, a soft, breathy laugh that doesn't reach the eyes. they take another lime into their hands, this time slowly and methodically prying flesh away from peel "work shit came up." the accusatory tone is thrown right back, as if they had any leg to stand on "where's ko right now? ..how 'bout cam??"

HEARING THE GRATING VOICE OF ONE MILO MENDOZA , thomas couldn't withhold the irritated sigh that happened to burst his held breath as he tilted his head back - as if he could reach up and pluck some spare patience from the damp , sticky air sweltering above him . " neither , actually , " thomas replied , refusing to admit that he had , in fact , been grabbing kody another drink , , , opting for sarcasm as he set down the white claw and complimentary shot on the counter milo had now sat themselves atop of . " i'm obviously in the kitchen trying to brainstorm some miraculous fuckin' plan to solve world hunger in one night . the fuck you think i'm doin' ?? "

it was easier to lean into malice without camille or kody present to act as a buffer . when he didn't have anyone to perform niceties in front of . thomas's blurry stare shifted to milo's obnoxious smirk , taking notice of the surplus of ruby runes that ornamented their neck . grimacing with disgust , shoving a lime between his own teeth , thomas bit down on the fruit and was thankful for the burn of sour citrus that distracted him from the rising of bile in his throat . " you leave ko by herself ?? cam ?? " he inquired between teeth clamped around pulp , an accusatory finger being metaphorically pointed in the pink-haired freak's direction with tom's words .

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when they worked, they worked. it's all that comes to mind, breaks through the haze of substances and her (always her), a sudden and warm reminder that they'd found their person before they'd been completely ruined. a soft chuckle, reverberating off of delicate skin "if that's what you wanna call me, yeah." they'd been intentional in picking the shirt, not just the film nerd but the loverboy in them. maybe he didn't want to cover everything— they looked good, but that green eyed monster that lived within him didn't like the image of anyone else looking at them and having the same thought.

"i shoulda thought it out more, baby." every word is mumbled between soft kisses along her thighs, voice almost pathetic in its frailty. they take a moment to consider the question, finger tracing circles on her knee as they look up at her "mmm, hope not. everything's been pretty evenly dispersed, i think." still, were they ever free at these things? "i can always tell whoever to fuck off if you don't want me to go."

teeth lightly drag against skin as milo’s hand withdrew, settling into familiar territory around their throat. the grin on camille’s lips spreading as milo spoke. ❝            romeo montague’s ? ❞  the smart ass answer coming with a giggle as the warmth of milo’s lips found their pulse, travelling straight to their heart. though logic could explain it away as the tequila shots done prior to their retreat – and though camille used to ground themselves in logic – emotions always won out when it came to milo. for better or for worse. tonight, however, it was only the better that existed. ❝ i know, babe. i’m just saying if it was already here… does huge mean you’re gonna be gone a lot tonight ? ❞

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there was something about the frat boy in its natural habitat, a special sort of quality. magnetism, perhaps? that which normally came off as dull shined with just a bit of glitter. it was the beer goggles putting in the work, had to be. otherwise, what it was that always attracted the prettiest girls to them was completely out of milo's imagination. eliza's demanding hands, the temptation to slip fingers under their board shorts, however, he understood all too well. but, milo wasn't the prettiest girls. he was below them. that was why, taken as he was, it was hard for him to tear his eyes away from the skunk-scented mannequin that wouldn't alone unwrap itself from poor eliza.

they don't have to make a move, rip the hand from her waist like they're reaching to do, because eliza does so first. they watch the brother skulk off, grin a mixture of humored and impressed. they snort, shoulder lifting in a shrug as their eyes shift ahead, downward at liza "cute." but now that the eye candy is gone, the slow working cogs of their mind grasp onto her words before : my favorite, and all mischief in their expression is gone. what remains is a softness that'd get them killed in the seedy underbellies they somehow slip through. but milo was a cockroach, the malleability of their heart working so little to adjust, and surviving despite. besides, this was a safe space, and eliza was a friend. it was a word they hesitated to use with her most days, but rang true tonight.

being the favorite was why they did this, an unloved child who found the hack to the otherwise indifferent parties' affections. they don't smile with teeth anymore, find baring fangs like an excitable, feral mongrel too harsh for the gentle wave washing over them. that, and something about eliza always made them want to hide crooked teeth, certain the gem glued to one in the front would do nothing to distract her from their— his imperfections "yeah, yeah, i got you." and they did.

he's leaning against the washer, fumbling in his pockets and producing an old altoids tin. the inside, thoroughly cleaned before being painted by kody. he reaches past a white lighter, a rolled up $10 bill, a blunt, a broken candy bracelet, and hands over one of two dime bags— this one lacking in the color the other was abundant in. milo wasn't big on snow, they were a smoker first and foremost, but attempts to connect with camille, and later eliza, changed everything "you having fun?" it was a shit attempt to make small talk, and they way their hands shake as they pass over the white substance shows that they know it.

— LEANING AGAINST THE GLITTER-STAINED wall ( among other liquids she did not dare investigate ) , the arrowhead of eliza's baby pink nail scraped the dew-dropped abdomen of . . . what was his name ? she rifled through the muddled-up contents of her mind for less than a second before deciding it didn't r e a l l y matter . he was just a guy , after all . a toy . and they were ALL the same — a hundred nameless faces , lined up for her to play with . he flexed under her investigative touch , a gluttonous grin consuming the semi-stranger's blur of haughty features . he leaned in , goading the sharp of her trailing finger to pierce through thick , sweat-slickened skin . but , instead , it dragged further down , down , down ; her nail hooked under his waistband , dragging the brother in .

before the man's body could mesh with hers , she was spinning on a bare heel , dragging him after her like an eager pup . only , hand poised over the laundry room handle , eliza skidded back . a shadow washed over her , it's silhouette nearly colliding into her own — the nameless-toy's did , though . she shot him a perturbed look before leveling the same displeased stare on —— m i l o ? she blinked through the haze of sequins and mist . yes , MILO !

eliza's silver-tongue arched . a whip , well-practiced in snapping the dog-man with ( not always deserved ) scoldings . only , their lips were faster . . . and no sooner had the airy offer reached her ears did that cherry-glossed smile return . wide , enthusiastic — like a kid in a candy shop . " this is why you're my faaavorite ! always know JUST what to say . "

dexterous fingers finally slipped around the door handle , shifting to press a bare shoulder into it —— but not before what's-his-name wrapped his own around her waist . eliza's head snapped around , untamed curls slapping him across the chest before the crack of her hand could . " eww ?! no , like — you can go now . or do you NEED to be told what to do . " apparently , he did . with a glower , the puppy picked his dignity up off the wet floor and swept away into the crowd . feet dragging . tail tucked between his legs .

moss infused eyes rolled their way back to . . . MILO ! right , right . milo . her grin wobbled and nose itched as she fisted the middle of his sparkling tank , pushing her spine into the door and dragging them inside the small room . her voice filled the cramped space — it's only other occupants being a washer , a dryer , and endless amounts of haphazard clothes . sing-songy , and only half-joking , she giggled : " hurry up ! before i get bored of you , too . "

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milo keeps their hands interlocked for a few seconds more, unwilling to let go so soon. if they were sentimental normally, that had nothing on when they were drunk "you mean that, ko?" it's something sort of like pride, but surely not that? milo'd never had anything to feel proud of, and this certainly wasn't something they should be proud of. still, warmth is spreading through their chest, cheeks burning with the efforts to not smile "i mean, i guess we can say thank you to sinclair too. he paid for all this shit. and i wasn't cheap." truthfully, they never were with luke. no friends and family discount here.

Kody had found her reflection in the mirror and had been staring at herself for...well, she wasn't entirely sure. An undetermined amount of time by the point Milo found her. "Here I am!" It was muscle memory at this point, pinkies interlocking and sliding into their handshake like it was as easy as breathing. Considering how many times they did it, an argument could be made that it was. "I have! I must say they are impressive. Some of your best yet."