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arcanemademedoit · 3 years

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The Bridge Scene - Jinx's Perspective

"Ekko had tried reaching out to Jinx countless times during the first couple years of her "new life".

The Arcane brainrot is unbelievable. All of the character psychology interests me, but Jinx in particular is so fascinating. I got stuck in my head wondering what she would have been thinking/hearing/experiencing throughout the bridge scene, and then I started imagining what events during the time skip would have influenced her experience and choices. So I wrote this piece, which I hope is as true to cannon as possible. It uses the bridge scene to explore a bit of her relationship with Ekko, Silco, her own mental health, and even Singed over the years.

Trigger warning for suicide mention/suicidal ideation. Also, major spoiler warnings!

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Perched on a ledge Jinx watches as the scene plays out on the misty bridge below her. Vi is hugging Ekko.

[Was that hug a little tighter than the one she gave you? A little longer?]

"Shhhshut UP" she hisses over her shoulder. A twinge of something tickles the back of her brain. Jealousy? Anger? "He took Vi away from me. We finally found each other and HE took her away from me. And now she's hugging him?!"

[Did he take her? Or did she go with him? You saw how she looked at you- horror, dismay. You SCARE her!]

"You're wrong! I know what I saw!"

[Do you? Really?] His garrish, toothy smile widens and curls until the corners of his mouth nearly touch his ears. Too distorted to be real.

Jinx slams her fist through Milo and into the wall beside her as he evaporates. Rubbing her temple and shaking her head she returns her attention to Vi, only to find her hugging that enforcer bitch. Caitlyn. The name echos in her brain, and this time there is no mistaking the feelings that flare: jealousy and rage. Firey and hot like a blowtorch in her stomach. She rubs her fingers along the staples in her thigh to ground herself, wincing and sighing with the pain.

[Ohhhhh her girlfriend! Your replacement! Look at the way she's holding her. She'll choose her and you know it. She's going to leave you.]

"Shut up!" She snaps, "It's just a goodbye hug...she wouldn't do that. Not again." She growls and twitches anxiously but a moment later, oh it feels good to be right for once! Vi walks back toward the Undercity, back toward her. Jinx giggles with relief and returns to the mission at hand, watching as the enforcer and Ekko continue their journey across the bridge. A warm pleasure fills her body at the sight of Caitlyn's slumped shoulders.

Suddenly the world goes bright, all darkness consumed by blinding white light. Huge spotlights and a crowd of enforcers stand in the path of her prey. She peers through her spyglass, trying to adjust her eyes and figure out what the hell is happening. Just as her vision begins to clear she catches the glimmer of a familiar blue light. The gemstone! Her eyes narrow- Ekko has it, no surprise with his sticky fingers.

She tenses at the sound of an unexpected gunshot. Ekko is falling to the ground and the culprit is...Marcus? That lying, traitorous coward? She's impressed for a moment as she watches him pick up the gemstone. Then realization sets in. He just shot Ekko point blank in the chest.

[HaHAhahaHA he's dead!]

"I doubt it," she thinks to herself. She had shot that brat once or twice over the years and he would be dead by her hand already if he didn't wear armor.

Her eyes widen as a familiar voice rings out: "CAITLYN!" Jinx swings the spyglass to see Vi. She's running right back into the fray. AWAY from her. Again.

[She was never going to choose you. She's a LIAR!] Milo's voice is silenced by the animalistic wail of frustration that erupts out of Jinx. Her shriek dissolves into frantic, anxious giggling.

"Liar". Her thumb smashes the button in her hand as she stands, preparing for what comes next. She turns to watch the flood of green lights pour out behind Vi, quickly overtaking her. Seconds later her favorite sound fills the air and the whole bridge shakes. The most beautiful display she's ever seen crackles below her, drowning out the screams of the enforcers. She watches with pride for a moment before nimbly swinging her way down to the ground, feet meeting pavement just as the cacophony ceases. The smell of explosives linger in the moisture-laden air and she breathes it in deeply as she walks toward the aftermath, humming absentmindedly. She's looking for the gemstone...but she's also looking for Vi. Or maybe Vi's body? Would it be a relief, if Vi was really dead this time? Would it be worth it to never know her abandonment again? The questions and scenarios play out in her mind as she peruses the carnage. An enforcer struggles on the ground by her feet; she ends his suffering nonchalantly and continues on.

Spotting the gemstone's case she bends to pick it up, still pondering what she'll do when she finds Vi. As she stands, however, her question is answered.

There's Vi, holding her. No relief or disappointment, only disgust.

[Devil...demon...she's taking Vi away from you. Look at her face! LOOK AT HER FACE! SMUG! DEVIL! EVIL! THIEF! You can see it can't you?]

Milo's words grate along her spine, and she can see it. She can't unsee it, actually. The rage in her stomach turns white-hot. Nothing matters more in this moment than separating them. She hears the gunshots before she even realizes that she's the one shooting, and she watches as Vi pushes the demon out of her line of fire. Her throat hurts...was she screaming just now?

But there's no time to think. Suddenly Ekko is in front of her and before she can properly react a searing pain spreads across her arm as he knocks Pow-Pow from her hands. She barely has time to pull out her pistol and fire off a few rounds before he's on her again, smashing his weapon into her shoulder. A sharp pain spreads over the area but is quickly dulled by adrenaline. When she turns to face him, he has the gemstone's case.

Tossing the case to Caitlyn he yells at her and Vi to go. Jinx, knowing the case is empty, is not concerned with it. She walks toward them slowly, stopping to meet Vi's gaze. There it is, just like Milo said. Fear.

[You SCARE her] Milo whispers, his breath cold against her ear.

Jinx and Vi lock eyes for what feels like an eternity. Vi, despite her tough exterior, has always worn her heart on her sleeve. Even after all these years Jinx can read every emotion that passes over her sister's face, each more painful than the next. But then it's over, eternity ended as Vi turns and limps away with the monster hanging on her shoulders. They disappear into the mist and smoke, leaving Jinx alone. Just like that night all those years ago. Silco's words reverberate in her skull, "She's back for the crystal. Not for you. Have you forgotten how she left you?"

She shakes her head as Ekko moves to block their retreating figures, reminding her that she is not, in fact, alone. "He's like a cockroach," she thinks, "always where he shouldn't be and never dying when he should."

Ekko had tried reaching out to Jinx countless times during the first couple years of her "new life". He would show up whenever she was alone in the Lanes, begging her to come with him. To leave Silco and help "build a better tomorrow for their people". He pleaded with her to see what Silco was doing with the Shimmer, reminding her of what he had done to their family. Ekko needed Jinx to be Powder again. He had lost everyone else, but he could still save her. Or so he believed.

Jinx had lost all faith in family. Sure Silco had become kind of like a father to her, he certainly saw her as his daughter, but Jinx had closed herself off to all truly healthy attachments. She still desperately needed love and affection, and Silco was a safe, reliable source of that, but she had never regained her ability to love and trust the way she used to. She couldn't. And Ekko...well Ekko was too big a risk. When he came around she felt herself soften, weaken, become vulnerable again. As the cracks in her psyche deepened, the threat he posed became insufferable. Every time he called her Powder the voices in her head started screaming. The night eventually came when she snapped.

She shot him, and Ekko finally accepted that his efforts were in vain. The sweet, eager Powder he'd once loved was truly gone. After that night their only encounters were Firelight raids on Shimmer shipments.

Despite this definitive parting of ways, they both still loved games and had maintained something akin to an unspoken competition over the years. She perfected her grenades and he created the crystal traps. He invented the hoverboards and she manufactured sticky bombs to target them. She practiced tirelessly with her guns while he trained his body like Vi had taught him. Each success of one spurred on the efforts of the other, taunting each other to become better, faster, stronger, and more creative. That, at least, hadn't changed since their childhood.

On the bridge they stand facing each other, Ekko without his mask for the first time in years. "Ohhh look who it is, the boy savior!" She pants, anger bubbling in her throat. He scoffs and smirks, lifting his chin proudly to look her in the eye. She knows this look...why does she know this look?

A pocket watch drops from his hand and begins to swing as realization dawns on her. Ahhh yes, their favorite childhood game. Jinx can't resist. She chuckles, a gleeful smile spreading across her face as she prepares her gun. It's been over a decade since they last played this game, but the rules are cemented in her memory. Taking their stances they study each other intently, using everything they know about one another to plan out what will happen when the stopwatch starts. She stares at her old friend in this private moment, shared by just the two of them, and she almost feels like Powder again. And Ekko is Little Man, her very best friend. She laughs again, a little less sinister, a little more sincere. It's easy to forget the deadly weapons they've both become. In her minds eye she's holding a paintball gun and he's got his cardboard sword. She leans into her imagination, biting her lip and smiling, soaking in this moment of relived childhood bliss. Ekko is doing the same, she can see it through the determination on his face. He's having fun.

But then it happens, he presses the button and reality comes spiraling back into focus. The next few seconds is a fight for their lives and she begins shooting, placing each shot precisely where she thinks he'll go next, trying to predict his movements. In the last fraction of a second he's in the air in front of her, and her gun is pointed directly at his head - she predicted correctly. But she hesitates. She pulls the trigger, but it's too late. Her lapse in judgement costs her and now his pipe is smashing her across the face.

She feels blood fill her mouth and nose, and the image of Vi walking away flashes behind her eyes. Jinx uses the force of the blow to turn her body as she hits the ground. She gets her gun around to face Ekko but he knocks her arm to the side and she thinks she hears a crack as she drops her gun. White hot pain sears and she sees Vander's lifeless, deformed body laying beyond Ekko's shoulder. She tries to get her bearings but becomes desperate without a weapon, flailing weakly with her hands and crying out as Ekko pins her to the ground. His pipe is across her chest, pressing into her collar bones. Are they breaking? She sees her mother's face, smiling at first but then glitching and distorting into an anguished death mask. She pushes the pipe away briefly but he slams it back down and punches her in the jaw before sliding the pipe up to her neck. The blood is choking her now as her throat is compressed by Ekko's weight. She cries out again, hot angry tears cloud her vision and the pain is too much. The image of Silco materializes in the glowing halo of the streetlight above her, lovingly lowering her into the water.

Her consciousness fades in and out as Ekko's fist lingers above her, ready to strike another blow. She slides her hand down slowly to grab a bomb from her belt without raising suspicion. Everything hurts and a familiar feeling is creeping into her heart: peace.

Jinx perfected her first bomb when she was 11. She was nervous to show it to Silco, worried it wouldn't work or would back-fire and hurt someone. But Silco was so proud, encouraging her to pull the pin and throw it into the old mining shaft he'd designated for such tests. "Go on," he said, smiling down at her, "this is the one, I know you got it right this time." She met his eyes, leaning against his leg as he rested his hand on her head. She put her finger through the pin and took a deep breath, then pulled hard and threw the bomb as fast as she could. 1...2...3....her heart sank...4...BOOM!!! She jolted, looking first into the pit and then up at Silco's beaming face. He bent down and picked her up, squeezing her tight. "You're perfect, Jinx! I knew you could do it!".

After this success her confidence grew to the point of cockiness. She made a dozen different models of bombs and perfected her guns over the next few years. Sometimes she'd seek out advice or materials from Silco's creepy doctor friend, who had developed something like an affection for her. She'd seen inside his locket once by accident, and when he noticed her looking he just lowered it so she could see more easily. "My daughter," he said matter-of-factly, "she had the same affinity for mechanical things that you do." They never spoke of his daughter again, but Jinx was less afraid of him after that.

The years passed and her weaponry became more intricate and complex, even as the voices in her head got louder. Milo's voice was the loudest and most annoying, spurring on her more impulsive violent tendencies. Sometimes she'd hear Claggor while working in her lab. He was actually okay company. The rarest, most intense voice was Violet's. She only spoke up when Jinx was losing a fight, encouraging her not to give up. Voices from the past, ghosts she felt responsible for. Killing became easier as it became harder to tell reality from hallucination, and Silco's praise was like a drug. He rewarded her for each successful mission, and a mission was most successful when his enemies were left dead.

One day at around 15 years old she was fiddling in the new lab that Silco had commissioned for her. A small bomb she was working on went off unexpectedly, throwing her backwards and triggering memories of the night at the cannery. That was the first time she actually saw Milo's ghost, crouched like a gargoyle on her workstation with a gaping hole in his chest, laughing at her failure. "Am I dying?" She wondered. As the thought of death settled over her she felt something unexpected - peace. Maybe death wouldn't be so bad?

She didn't die, of course. One of Silco's guards checked in after the unannounced explosion and rushed her to the doctor. She had no life-threatening injuries. A concussion, a ruptured eardrum, some cuts and scrapes. Silco managed to maintain his composure in front of Jinx, but she never did see that guard again.

Afterwards Jinx developed a habit of playing with the timing of her bombs when she was upset. She'd hold one in her hand until the last possible moment, or watch it hop around on the ground before kicking it off the ledge with not a second to spare. Each time a brief moment of peace would engulf her as she imagined it going wrong. For years she did this, manufacturing moments of peace, waiting for one of her own mistakes to kill her. Odds were she'd mess up the programing at least once, right? But her engineering skills were impeccable. The bombs never went off even a millisecond before they should, a point of both pride and frustration for her. The thought of suicide never actually crossed her mind. She didn't want to kill herself, sometimes she just wanted death to come in the form of an accident. Her antics got everyone around her killed or pissed off enough to leave her. Why shouldn't her namesake apply to herself? Eventually she'd have to jinx herself, right?

On the bridge that feeling of peace settles in, making it's home in her heart. She has lost, and Vi's ghost remains silent. Jinx stops struggling and looks up into Ekko's face as he lowers his fist. He looks so sad and surprised, searching her face with his eyes. Why, she wonders? Blood trickles over her lips and she smiles up at him feebly, almost apologetically. Her old friend. What is he seeing? Does he see Powder in this moment? Did she feel peace like this when she was Powder? Ah well, maybe death will just be this feeling forever. No more abandonment, no more voices, no more distorted ghosts and memories.

"I'm not killing myself," she thinks, "I'm just...protecting Silco's investment."

She tightens her grip on the gemstone in her left hand and activates the bomb in her right. The bomb rolls onto the pavement as realization and fear alight on Ekko's face. A moment later the force of the explosion paints the world red and white. Jinx loses consciousness, her mind silent, no voices to be heard. Just the quiet, long-awaited peace.

#arcane #arcane fic #jinx #jinx x ekko

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nora-xox · 3 years

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Ahoy.

Got another one for you but this one is a bit more dark. These are for Jinx (ofc), Vi and Caitlyn.

Their gn S/O feels cold all the time, no matter what the weather is like in the lanes or what they wear, so the best way they found to keep themselves warm is to cuddle up to Jinx/Vi/Caitlyn any chance they get.

However one day something goes wrong, the S/O gets injured and their life is fading fast, feeling cold, just wanting to hold on close to the one they love before they fade away.

I will do my best! Even the thought of this made me sad ngl.

I haven't wrote something like this before and for all three at once so instead i will break it into different posts. I hope you enjoy.

So here is Jinx, reaction to her significant other Basically dying in their arms.

Vi and Caitlyn will be in other posts don't worry.

Jinx reaction:

Warnings: Injury, fighting, mentions of blood and death.

·You always being cold was something Jinx did her best to help with. Giving you tons of blankets and a warm drink if she is busy. Or she will cuddle under blankets with you.

·Jinx enjoys the fact you go to her to get warm. The fact that she was seemingly the only way you could warm up. Plus it gives her more time with you and you give her peace of mind.

· One day Jinx was busy on a project. So you decide to go out and let her do her thing not wanting to distract her.

· Strolling through the lanes is dangerous but you weren't worried you didn't plan to go far. But when does anything ever goes as planned.

· Not soon after you left for your walk you run into a group of people out to seek vengeance knowing you work for Silco and are Jinx's partner. Seeing you as the perfect opportunity.

·They quickly knock you out as you were not expecting for this to happen. You didn't even get a chance to register how many enemies there were before you were out cold.

·Waking up you are tied to a chair. Muffled noises surrounded you. They hit your head hard and the bag over your head wasn't helping either.

·You squirm a bit hoping that maybe something would come lose. Ha nope they didn't want to make a mistake and underestimate you.

·The movements made them realize you were awake causing them to remove the bag. You still unable to process what was happening completely till then. After looking around seeing a bunch of very angry people.

·Thoughts fill your head trying to think of ways to get out of this. Fear welling up inside you when looking next to you causing you to realize what they were planning. There was no talking your way out of this either. They weren't listening they didn't care.

· Hours of torture go by. Them ripping out finger nails , cutting off pieces of skin like they were filleting fish, and them beating you.

·After such a long time. They finally took a break. You thinking this was your chance to try and escape as during all of the torture the restraints had come lose. Barely just barely you were able to get your hands out then untying your legs.

·Movement was causing excruciating pain but adrenalin was moving you forward running to the big old steel doors like ones on a factory building. You hear someone behind you yell just as you get the door open.

"THEIR GETTING AWAY!"

"WHAT THE HELL!?"

"SHOOT THEM DON'T LET THEM GET BACK TO SILCOS PLACE ALIVE."

·The sounds of guns firing making you attempt to move faster trying to close the big doors to slow them down. That being a mistake the bullets flying around you the sound of them hitting the metal. The adrenaline causing you to not even notice the bullet wound you now have.

· Running if you could call it that. Escaping into an ally and slowly finding out where you are. Once you feel you lost them that's the moment you realize the bullet hole through your abdomen.

· putting pressure on the wound trying to slow the loss of blood. Thinking at this point all you wanna do is see Jinx again. That desire was what was keeping you going.

·Feeling the effects of blood loss making you shake and feel even colder then usual. Thinking about all the times Jinx had been there and warmed you up wanting just that again.

· finally making it to the place Jinx stays and works. Barley conscious making your way to her lab.

·Jinx waiting for you to return immediately noticed you walking through the doors. But what she saw sent horror through her. You were covered in blood! Paler then a ghost.

·She rushed to you. You moving towards her as well falling into her arms then both of you ending up on the floor.

·Jinx in a panic asking a million questions while trying to put pressure on the bullet wound. Not knowing what to do. Tears falling down her face one landing on your cheek.

·Smiling weakly barely able to speak you say through staggered breaths

"Jinx... I i'm so cold... All i could think of was.... Getting back to you... Wanting no...nothing more then to spend just one more moment warm in your arms..."

·Jinx sobbing at this point pulling you closer to her. Noticing the puddle of blood now covering the floor around you both. Her realizing you were running out of time.

·Sobbing "I want the same! I love you and our moments together! So stay with me please! Maybe i can"

· interrupting her you gently grab her face

"It's ok... I love you Jinx I am glad i got to see you one last time."

"NOO!" Jinx screams as your hand falls. Your body no longer holding any sort of life to it.

·through her sobs she repeats

"I love you too!"

· holding onto your lifeless body begging for you to come back. Silco finding her covered in your blood sobbing. He rushes over but to late to help you.

·Jinx refuses to let go of you but Silco after hours convinces her that it's time and that you deserved a proper burial (well proper for the underground)

·Jinx hesitantly does as he says watching as Sevika picks up your body taking it away on Silco's orders.

·Jinx shutting down completely not speaking any more barley eating. Silco trying his best to help comfort her in his own way.

·It takes months before things go back to even slightly normal. During those months Silco taking steps to finally get her to function and not seem like a lifeless doll.

· her Jinx visiting your grave daily and sitting there for hours on end is a common occurrence. She talks to you daily.

· She feels responsible for not being able to save you and you not hearing her say she loves you back.

·The image of you bleeding out in her arms haunts her. But what snaps her out of it is the last words you said your I love you forever echoing in her head as well.

#jinx headcanon #jinx x y/n #arcane jinx #jinx x reader #arcane headcanon #arcane x reader #father silco #sevika arcane

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oodlyenough · 3 years

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alright i've seen arcane twice through now, here are my opinion patch notes:

jayce is hilarious i can't believe fandom hates him so much lmao... arcane boldly asks, what if steve rogers shot a child, and i think that's very fun and sexy of them

fr though i do think jayce is one of the more interesting characters precisely because he's -- well partly because i feel like he realized he's bisexual two days ago and is making it everyone's problem, which is already great. but also because watching the square-jawed hero complex guy make a series of terrible decisions and go mad with power is a satisfying thing to witness. the story seems very aware jayce is doing a bunch of fucked up stuff, and i appreciate that. unhinged bisexual rights

i was also more into the political drama once i was following it closer. i think it's handled with relative subtlety most of the time and i like that! i hope it stays that way in s2, please god. also how tf does the council work, are people appointed? i guess? based on status/wealth? it certainly doesn't seem to be a democracy.

also i love ambessa. can't wait to see more of her.

i feel like mel's writing is... kind of underbaked. her words and her actions don't always correspond (eg "i've never been able to give back!" says the single richest person in a city with severe wealth disparity who has been in political power for a decade). i don't say any of this to drag mel, because i'm very interested in who i think she is/could be, but i find it hard to decipher if this is nuanced writing or just the story not really knowing what it's doing with her -- i guess we'll see what s2 does. i'm still pretty confident she'll survive the finale, not so much because i think she'll survive the entire show (doubtful imo) but because i think if they're going to kill mel she'll get a solo death episode and the finale/fallout of jinx's bomb has too much else going on. fingers crossed anyway, lol, i think it'd be shitty if she's just dead now before they did much with her

i understand like 25% more of what happened with viktor and happy fun ball but ... still not a lot. lmao. i don't mind them keeping it vague i guess but i hope future sequences are less outright confusing to me. why did it eat sky? why did it change his hand? was that on purpose? we never saw him having issues with his hand, right? who knows.

still love that dinner scene with jinx/silco/vi. as i was watching with @firstofoctober i was saying how great it is that everyone in the scene is saying stuff they genuinely believe even if that stuff isn't factually true. i know there's Discourse over how genuine silco was being but i really do think all evidence points to him meaning it/believing what he's saying, even if *we* know vi isn't going to betray powder, etc. likewise vi obviously means it when she says she loves jinx and they're still sisters etc... but i really don't think she has a proper grasp of who jinx is now, she's projecting baby powder and expecting she can flip a switch. it's good and sad and i like it a lot.

coming out less flatteringly on rewatch:

ep 1 is so boringgggggggggg these are so many characters and i only have to care about two of them

caitvi moves at breakneck pace lol. slow down ladies it's been 72 hours tops

heimerdinger is just terrible on rewatch imo lmao he literally never does anything to help anyone or anything. i'm pretty sure jayce only deposed him for being mean to viktor, but he was still right. i GET that his whole thing is being immortal and blah blah but like what if: some guy with no perspective on human existence wasn't ruling a city full of mostly-humans. depose him again jayce.

and my least popular opinion: caitlyn i just... i tried man. i dunno. i mean she's nice and stuff... katie leung is funny sometimes. i just feel like she is so uncomplicated compared to literally every other character, with the least compelling arc. and i think the story treats her with real kiddie gloves too, which i find grating. everyone else fucks up and makes mistakes and is punished narratively for it, but caitlyn is always right bc she is a nice good cop. okay. whatever.

#arcane #lmao i think most of this is Unpopular so u are warned

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darkeyedjunco · 3 years

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Ok, you guys. I can’t get the Caitlyn Shower Scene out of my head. And since my friends in real life are sick of me ranting about Arcane, you guys on tumblr get to hear about it! Shout out to @caitkirammans for reminding me of this scene :) Also shout out to @arcane-temp-fandomblog for some cool essays that I’ve enjoyed reading :)

Okay. I LOVE the Shower Scene mainly because it captures what I love most about Arcane – all the layers of visual storytelling and metaphors, and no dialogue at all! Yet the scene still conveys SO MUCH. Here are some of my favorite thoughts and questions about the scene:

1. The lack of “male gaze” and how the show walked the line between sexy but not objectifying. When I first watched the scene, I was a little confused since it didn’t seem like other “shower scenes” from other movies and shows. It clearly wasn’t supposed to be titillating – the camera wasn’t focusing on close ups of her chest or anything. It focused mainly on her face, and the animators did an EXCELLENT job of conveying every emotion on her face – determination, grief, exhaustion (and yeah, maybe a little horny). So we never feel like the scene is objectifying her – we empathize with her instead.

Also the way she’s framed throughout the whole show. But especially in this scene. Oh my god. She’s framed and shot like a broody action hero. Like a guy. Braced against the shower wall (almost in the same position we meet Prison Vi in Episode 4), highlighting her strong back and arms, showing her heavily breathing while thinking about another woman. It’s ultra sexy. But not in a way that appeals to the “male gaze”. It’s not objectifying her or portraying her as a tragic wreck.

(I’m always confused at my own reaction to this scene because I was instantly turned on by her heavy breathing and piercing gaze. …But also I recognized that the scene was Not Supposed to be titillating and felt a little uncomfortable the entire time. Still confused about that haha)

2. The Rain as a metaphor for the Truth. Caitlyn is associated with rain a lot. In one of the first times we see her, she’s sitting in her courtyard under an umbrella while Jayce is soaked by the rain. Later we see her in her angsty rain breakup scene. Then finally we see her in the shower, reminiscing about her angsty breakup.

What does the rain mean? On my first watch of the show, I just thought, “rain is Dramatic Weather, and Cait is a Dramatic Bitch, so that checks out”. But once I watched the shower scene, I realized that the Rain probably means something, since the camera spent so long lingering on the falling water in the shower and in the flashback.

I *think* that the rain could be a metaphor for the “real world” that Caitlyn is sheltered from. That’s why at the beginning of the show, she’s sheltered with her umbrella from the rain, but Jayce (who’s just gotten dumped by the Kirammans and the academy and basically kicked in the ass by the “real world”) is getting soaked. Caitlyn’s character is all about getting to the heart or truth of the world behind the façade. So it makes sense that once she meets Vi, she allows herself to feel the rain. In the breakup scene, she follows Vi out into the rain and lets herself get wet. She’s okay with getting rained on by the “real world” to go after Vi and to help fix the problem. Vi tells her to “go back to that fancy house of hers” – to go back to being sheltered again. And Caitlyn (metaphorically) refuses. When we see her in the shower, she intentionally stands under the water, basically immersing herself in the Truth.

3. The blood. Why the fuck did the animators focus so long on the blood from Caitlyn’s leg wound?! When I first saw it was kinda uncomfortable and felt gratuitous. But of course it has to mean something, since every damn detail in this show means something. @alittlebirdandhersecrets had the great idea that Cait was emotionally wounded from Vi’s rejection, so the camera focuses on her physical wound. My initial interpretation was that Vi and Cait mix like blood and water, not like oil and water. Are there more interpretations? Maybe. I’d be super curious to hear of other opinions!

If anyone out there has other thoughts about this scene let me know! This show has so many layers and I love (over-)analyzing it. Also, Caitlyn has basically taken over my brain at this point and I love discussing her. SO excited for Season 2 exploring the fucked-up Cait-Vi-Jinx love/hate triangle!

EXTRA: does anyone want to talk about the music in the shower scene? It goes HARD and idk why?

#arcane #caitlyn kiramman #caitlyn arcane #the junco speaks #the junco over-analyzes #totally in love with this cupcake

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shelbazoidz · 3 years

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Wrapped Up In You

(More Arcane content because I cannot be stopped.)

It feels like they've know each other forever, even though its barely been a year. Vi and Caitlyn's friendship has morphed into something new and quite frankly it terrifies it them both. As time goes by it gets more and more difficult to deny how they feel. The emotions get even harder to deny when Vi's goofy dog ends up trapping them together, which leads to a rather interesting turn of events.

○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○

There's a headache brewing between her temples, the urge to interrupt this tortuous lecture is suppressed as her mother goes over the instructions. Caitlyn doesn't even know how long she's been standing here trying to pay attention. This run down has been given to her so many times that it's been fried into her brain. Caitlyn was certain she could recite the instructions in her sleep by now. She meets her father’s sympathetic gaze, he offers her a small shrug with a loving smile that she returns.

"Are you listening to me?" Her mother's sharp tone draws her back into the conversation. Caitlyn truthfully doesn't remember the last thing she said.

"Yes, I'm listening." It's a lie that her mother seemingly sees right through by the look in her eyes.

"I said she takes her medicine at 7pm with her dinner. No later, no earlier." Her mother repeats the instructions as if Caitlyn doesn't watch the little ball of fluff nearly every weekend.

"Mom, please. I know." Caitlyn groans.

"Yes, well I want to make sure you remember." She leans down and scratches the tiny Pomeranian's head, its fluffy tail wagging happily.

"I'm sure she remembered after the eighth time you told her." Caitlyn's father begins to steer his wife to the front door. "We're going to be late if we don't leave now, love."

"Alright. Alright." She concedes and they both give Caitlyn a quick hug.

"See you Monday, dear." Her mother places a quick kiss on her temple.

"Have a good trip." Caitlyn waves as they both exit her apartment. Once the door clicks shut she lets out a breath. Dealing with her mother was stressful at times but she still loved her with all her heart.

Caitlyn stretches her arms above her head before looking down at the dog.

"So what do you want to do today, Pepper?" She asks and Pepper offers a little yip, following right on her heels while Caitlyn makes her way to the kitchen.

"Cleaning? Is that what you said?" She replies to Pepper's bark. The little dog does a few excited circles, nearly losing her balance on her three tiny legs.

The memory of Pepper's injury would probably stick with her for life, they had all been so worried. About four years ago there had been an accident in the home and Pepper injured her leg pretty badly. Her father had broken the speed limit driving to the emergency clinic. Her family was devastated when the vet told them there wasn't much they could do to save the leg. Pepper was a fighter though and came out alive and well...minus the leg.

Caitlyn picks up the dog and holds her close for a second, remaining herself the Pepper is perfectly fine now. She chuckles when Pepper tries to lick her face. Caitlyn puts her back on the floor and gives her a treat before cutting on some music. She begins to tidy up as she bops along to the song. Pepper is like a fluffy shadow as she moves around her apartment.

She missed living with the dog. What she absolutely did not miss was living under her parent's roof. The last year had been the final straw that pushed her into finding her own apartment. But her parents were often gone for business which ended up with her watching Pepper most weekends anyways. After her own chaotic and stressful weeks with work Caitlyn was always happy to have Pepper as company most weekends.

Her place hadn't been too messy so she was able finish cleaning within the hour. As she leans against her counter scrolling through her phone, it buzzes and she smiles. It falls when she realizes the message not from the person she’s been wanting to hear from all week. She was the last one to text Vi in their chat and didn’t want to seem like a bother so she had been waiting for the other woman to respond. It had barely been a week but she missed her, a lot more than she was letting on. Somehow Vi had wiggled her way into her routine and it felt weird to not have her over for so long.

continued

#arcane #arcane netflix #league of legends #vi x caitlyn #caitlyn kiramman #vi #piltover's finest #fan fic

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triplescope · 4 years

Note

"I wasn't about to step on that fucking game of yours," Ezra says. He's on edge, defensive, arms folded tight against his chest. He lingers by the door. "You guys are pissed off at me already. Imagine if I'd brought him in. You'd have my throat."

Game.

She is still. She is calm. Caitlyn sits behind her desk, hands neatly folded in her lap, and considers the definition of ‘game’. It’s a noun. Something played with rules. They usually have only one winner.

Yes, she supposes it could be defined as a game. A years-long one. Have there ever been any games that long-running? Perhaps one particularly slow game of correspondence chess. The alliteration makes her taste bile. But yes. Game.

She considers the rest of Dianthe’s words next. You guys. As if they are a set. As if she has ever managed to peer into his mind beyond the surface. As if she and he had ever spoken. As if she knows anything of him other than what she can induce from cards and actions. Here is what she knows:

A steady hand. (Induced from his cards and his craft.)

Left-handed, potentially ambidextrous. (Induced from how his calligraphy is ever-so-slightly slanted. She had often wondered why he chose the left, if it was a choice at all.)

Agile. (Induced from his craft. Confirmed in Demacia.)

Slightly taller than herself. (Once again, confirmed in Demacia... and never again.)

Enough disposable income, or simply quick hands, to procure high-quality inks and cardstock. (Induced from his cards. She has turned each and every one over and over until she can conjure the texture on a whim.)

A mind to rival her own, if not surpass it. (It has been confirmed in appearance after appearance. Any other would have made a mistake. But he hadn’t. Until now.)

Here is what she does not want to know, but knows regardless:

He is Piltovian. (From Dianthe.)

His given name is Julian. (From Dianthe.)

He has blond hair. (From Dianthe.)

He is ‘kinda weird’. (From Dianthe.)

He is a middle school art teacher. (From Dianthe.)

She attempts to add the new pieces of information to the metaphorical puzzle. But the pieces don’t fit. The shapes and colors aren’t what she imagined in the slightest. Is she blind? Has she lost her gift? A teacher. Not even a professor. Does he loathe the spotlight outside of her? At least it is art. She has to imagine that she’d have started screaming if he taught maths.

She should have never pressed the subject. But how was she to know that Dianthe knew the secret? How was she to know that C (only C, she would wipe the other name from her mind if she were capable) had finally made a mistake?

It hadn’t even been due to her.

She knows why she feels this way. Why she feels a cold rage in her chest. Why that rage is trying to claw her hands and pull her to her feet. Emotions aren’t something to run from. Emotions aren’t something to be ashamed of. She’s known the horrible, ugly truth for years. But even the most miserable things can be tacked to the corkboard of her mind and made tolerable. She knows. But it has not affected her until now.

She has a caveat for one of her last thoughts. Emotions aren’t something to run from, if you can control them. Emotions aren’t something to be ashamed of, if you can control them. Butterflies, reanimating. Tearing free from their pins and beating their vibrant colors against the glass until it cracks - illogical, impossible, she knows - and they spill out.

The problem with partners, she has realized over the years, is that they never quite live up to her expectations. She fills in the unknowns (and even for her, there are so many unknowns) with hopeful inferences and goodwill. She tries so hard to see the best in people. It has been her downfall three times now.

Vi.

Dianthe.

It has only been a few moments since Dianthe last spoke. She hasn’t moved from her stillness. She knows her quarry. She knows the responsibilities of her office and how she must uphold them. She grips her hands together until she knows that they’ve turned white and forces the words past her lips.

“Give me his full name and address.”

#novascuro #IC ∴ On the case.#CLASSIC ∴ The Sheriff.#C ∴ The game is afoot.

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thespearandthecrown · 5 years

Text

What if ...

In this episode of Nightly working on something other than the Spear, The sheriff and the Soldier, and Start//End.... Have a Vi and Cait first Kiss?

{ London Grammar- Non Believer}

Rain cascades in a blinding sheet, covering the lower streets of Piltover in large puddles. The tall figure leans back against the old brick of the alleyway wall, keeping their arms crossed over their chest. With the rain descending down so heavily and with the fall of night, a small shiver runs up their spine as they pull the collar to their leather jacket up.

Uneven florescent pink hair is drenched causing lines of water to trail down over a tattooed cheek. The hiss of steam pulls out into the air as the tall figure clenches and unclenches their large metal fists. The small ambient glow of pressure gauges and the heat of a hextech crystals lining around the joints of high pressurized metal, brings a small haze around the brawler.

“They’re moving.” The high Piltovian accent warms the figure’s ears.

“On my way.” The pinkette replied, pushing herself off of the brick wall and rounding the corner

It has almost been a year since the two of them started working with each other. A full year of getting on each other’s nerves, threatening jail time, nearly leaving the partnership, of butting heads so hard that being with each other caused more migraine pain than any hangover she had ever felt. The two of them shared such different life perspectives and ethics that it was almost impossible to work together.

But they had found a certain...harmonious workflow, one could say. Once they put away their stubbornness and started to learn from each other, things started to shift.

Vi wasn’t just some street rat that wanted nothing more than to wreak havoc and violence like Caitlyn originally believed. The brawler was a lot more than that. She had learned that Vi only wanted the best for those who were living in Zaun, who were less fortunate than herself.

Caitlyn wasn’t the goody two shoed priss of a power-tripping that Vi had originally thought she was. Sure she was uptight about laws being followed and serving proper justice. But she had almost the same goal as Vi. The sheriff just wanted the best for the citizens of Piltover.

They both wanted a better life for the people they represented.

It took a lot of arguing and flung out opinions for the two of them to come at a metaphorical cease-fire. Slowly, but surely, once the two of them could see their handy work causing positive effects, they started to understand even better.

Sure they still had some more work to do, but the Sheriff and her new Deputy were becoming a force to be reckoned with.

And stupid gay idiot Vi, may have started to kind of sort of somewhat...develop...a kind of soft side for...Caitlyn.

Gods above, even now she shakes her head at herself. She curses her weakness for brunettes in all honesty. And the Sheriff’s eyes always had a way to look so soft and knowing and concerned, especially when she would put a delicate hand along Vi’s tattooed forearm.

But Caitlyn totally didn’t care about her like that. They were starting to become really good friends, to the point now that she can get the Sheriff to half chuckle at some inside joke, or roll her eyes with a small smirk. Or the nights they would spend at a stakeout or a patrol or Caitlyn planning out an offensive with Vi totally pretending to listen, they would slowly cross the line into their personal lives; their histories, what made them...well them.

And of course, Vi being Vi, she started falling head over heels when she started learning the little things about the Sheriff.

Like how she likes her tea with just a tiny splash of milk; just enough to change the dark colouration into something a bit lighter.

How she likes to hum a jazz tune under her breath to help her remember file numbers as she would dig into the massive filing cabinets in the archives room.

Or how she would bake on her off days and always make something a little bit special for Vi, once Cait learned that she had a preference for strawberry flavoured goodies.

Or how when she was deep in concentration, a small wrinkle would form just above the Sheriff’s eyebrow and it was probably the reason for her near-constant tension headaches she would get. It’s why Vi brings a bottle of pain killers with her to work now so that when she sees her co-worker/boss/new friend/kind-of-maybe-crush rubbing at her temples she would slap two of them down next to her elbow and continue her work on her hextech.

“Thank you for meeting with us.” Caitlyn’s voice crackles in Vi’s earpiece. The Sheriff must have finally made contact with the dealers. “Were you followed?”

The plan was for Caitlyn and two of her officers to go undercover as hextech specialists to “sell” to these black market dealers. Once the transaction was handled, Vi and the SWAT force would surround them and make the arrest.

“We have what we had discussed earlier.”

It annoys Vi that she can’t hear the other side of the conversation.

“Absolutely, please count out the gold and place it in the middle.”

There’s a pause. Vi peeks out from her hiding position against the wall of an old run-down forgotten diner. Five figures dressed in black all standing protectively over a shorter figure, face across from Caitlyn and her two officers. The shorter figure points in the direction of Sheriff and Vi’s hackles rise. Steam from her gauntlets snarl out in agitation.

“Of course, nothing but the best tech in topside.”

The smaller figure seems just as agitated as Vi. One of the taller figures fidgets nervously, a hand going to their weapon’s belt. Immediately hexpistols are drawn and aimed at Caitlyn.

“This transaction is nothing but legitimate.”

As soon as Vi hears that sentence she moves out of her hiding place. In the torrential downpour, she sees Caitlyn raising her hands. She sees the figure starting to carefully stalk toward Cait. She sees the smaller figure marching forward and getting into the sheriff’s face.

She doesn’t hear her partner calmly talking the figures down. She only hears her heartbeat slamming into her ears and the rain clambering down on her body.

“Deputy get back into position.” One of the waiting SWAT officers commands in the radio.

But it’s too late.

Vi catches the group off guard as she slams a concussive blow into the ground they stand on, making most of them fall to the soaked cobblestone. She ducks under an elbow and snaps her metal fist into the open abdomen of an armed figure. Heavy boots stomp circles around her as the SWAT team rallies.

The short figure in reaction grabs at Caitlyn and Vi reacts almost instantly. She takes two menacing steps toward the figure who realizes their mistake of placing their hands on the Sheriff. Fury lines violet irises as the brawler grabs the figure by the collar of their black rain jacket and lifts them up.

“You’ve got the right to remain silent, fuckface.” Vi snarls lowly.

__________________________________________

“We went over this!” Caitlyn tutts angrily. She has her hands on her hips as she glares up toward the brawler who rolls her eyes. “We needed them to complete the deal, to charge them, Vi! What you did, nearly cost us! Gods know what could have happened if the SWAT team didn’t follow you!”

“Yeah, whatever. I see hextech aimed, I’m gonna fucking move, Cait.” Vi defends as she sets her gauntlets into the trunk of the Sheriff’s cruiser. She closes the door a bit too firmly, before she leans up against it. “ ‘speacially if it’s aimed at you. Ain’t letting that fucking happen.”

“We had it under control.” Caitlyn manages as she pinches the bridge of her nose. The small wrinkle above her eyebrow pulls down as she mutters something under her breath as lights and sirens sound. Police cruisers drive off, leaving the two of them alone in the small pattering of the rain and late night air.

Agitated the brawler pushes off of the cruiser and gets a step too close to the Sheriff. “If them surrounding you, was under control...What if..” Her jaw tightens like one of her tension wires in her gauntlets.

“You know, I can handle myself, Vi. You don’t have to assume I can’t defend myself.”

“I know you can.”

“Then trust me to handle those situations.”

“I’ve seen too many of those kinds of deals going sour, Cait.”

“I have too, and I’ve learned ways to help control that kind of situation. It’s why I had you on standby. Incase it got too serious for me to not have it under control.” A gentle hand moves to Vi’s left shoulder in a reassuring gesture.

Vi’s heart nearly soars a hundred feet in the air. She can’t help the gut reaction as worry curls around her gut. A warmth starts to center to where Caitlyn is touching her, and she nearly melts instantly. When those eyes, infamous for freezing perps atleast three times her size in place, soften and begin to search for why Vi is so...bothered.

“I don’t care. I’m not risking you,” the brawler admits. She can’t lie when Caitlyn is looking at her like that. She does her best to avoid eye contact. She tries to swallow the pit in her throat. When she finally has the courage to look back to the sheriff, she is surprised to see Caitlyn staring at her in realization.

“Vi?” It’s a quiet sound that is nearly drowned out by the rain. “Do you have... feelings for me?”

“Voids, Cait, I just...You’re...I...”Vi panics and begins to step backwards. She is stopped by a firm hold on her wrist.

“Vi, don’t run away, let’s talk about this.”

“I ain’t running!” Vi quickly barks.

The sheriff quirks an eyebrow to the brawler who is completely redfaced.

“Fine, you want an answer so fuckin’ bad?”

She retakes her step, cups Caitlyn’s face in her calloused hands and kisses her.

Shock courses through the sheriff instantly. It’s surprisingly soft, for someone who was so frustrated just moments ago. Slowly as the shock wears off, Caitlyn closes her icy eyes as she begins to kiss her back. Her small arms rest at Vi’s hips.

She notices that she tastes like coffee and bubblegum.

As quick as it came, the brawler pulled away. She turned on her heels instantly and pulled the collar to her leather jacket up to her ears.

“There’s your stupid, bloody, fucking answer!”

#Vi #caitlyn #League of Legends #Nightly Writes #Piltover's finest #piltovers finest #vixcait #vixcaitlyn #The Enforcer #The Sheriff #I'll write my other fics #I promise #Q_Q

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viktorredemptionarc · 6 years

Text

Fic: Philosophy of self [JayceViktor]

A/N: Available @ AO3 too. This is the punk band au nobody asked for but I live to give.

Word Count: 9.857.

Characters/Relationships: Jayce/Viktor.

Rating: T for language.

Summary: Punk concerts are where miracles happen.

'Cause it's all that he wants, and he wants to be free.

Freedom cannot be received.

It's something to be conquered, not given. That's what Viktor does when he plays every Sunday night since he left college, drenched in sweat under the neon lights, the floor shaking beneath his feet as his heart tries to beat its way out of his chest. It's his way of fighting to be free, he pursues the feeling that he gets after they're done and he's standing on the stage with his ears ringing and unable to catch his breath, when he knows that it's never going to be the same because he's never going to be as free as he is right then.

He looks down at the crowd, obscured and hard to make out with the spotlight shining on him. His fingers hurt, his throat burns, his legs are shaking. Time doesn't feel real, he doesn't feel real. He exhales. Vi hits him in the back, hard, and he turns to her as she yells something, he doesn't know what, and the moment is shattered and he's back to being just Viktor, on the stage, with the strap of his bass digging into his neck.

"See you next week, asshats!" shouts Vi, into de mic, and the crowd cheers. Suddenly, everything is too much. Too little. Never enough but always overwhelming. Hot and cold.

Viktor turns on his heels and runs backstage.

-x-

Jayce has never felt so tired. Too tired to function, tired enough to pass out, and way too tired to even think about his goddamned thesis. Yet sleep eludes him, his brain set to overdrive, so he does the unthinkable and follows Vi into one of the most awful pubs he's seen in his life.

The place is dreadful but Vi has been nagging him to go to one of her concerts for what feels like, and might actually have been, years. He owes it to her, in a way, and she's the only friend he has so might as well use what's looking to be a long, sleepless, night to indulge her. Which doesn't make having to navigate through a myriad of bodies, some of them spiky, to get to the front any less annoying.

Vi's smile when he does get there, looking down at him from the stage, is kind of worth it. He tries to see her bandmates but the spotlights are off in the back and she's the only one that the light from the front can reach. Jayce watches as she turns her smile to the rest of the crowd, grabs the mic, and shatters Jayce's ears with a scream. It seems like everyone behind him is trying to get closer to the stage at once, pushing him, and just when he's about to turn around and yell at someone, the spotlights blind him and Vi strums a guitar.

His first thought after the sound fades is that he's too close to the speakers and his head is going to explode. Then it all starts again and he can't hear his own thoughts. The drums are too fast, too frantic, for him to follow. The bass is so heavy his whole body thrums to its rhythm. Vi's voice cuts through the noise like a war cry.

It's terrible.

Jayce feels alive.

And a bit nauseous, but it'll pass. Right there and right then; with Vi spitting out word after word about love, and violence, and war, he feels like everything in his life will come to an end eventually. The thought is as liberating as it's terrifying. Vi winks, at him or at the crowd who even cares, and Jayce realizes that he's laughing. At the idea of the finality of things in a punk concert with a spike digging into his spine, his ears buzzing, his entire being shaking, and his heart in his throat.

It goes on and on, waves of sound and movement and his own body swaying to it all, until suddenly it isn't happening anymore and Jayce doesn't know how long it's been since he could listen to the things happening inside his own brain. Vi struts around the stage, hits one of her bandmates in the back, and screams. Jayce can't hear shit until she calls him and everyone down there an asshat and he catches the guy with the bass running into the backstage without a word. Vi sticks her tongue out, strums her guitar, turns off the mic and drops it on the ground before following him with the drummer. Jayce thinks that she's Vi's girlfriend? Maybe? No idea.

About anything, really. Not his place in that pub, nor his place in the world as a whole. Why is he so tired if he's only been standing around laughing like an idiot as Vi jumps on stage?

"Hey, Jaycerino!" Vi crashes into him, drops her arms around his neck as she jumps, and Jayce almost loses his balance. "Come backstage, enjoy the privileges of being my friend."

She jumps off and he follows her, only half aware of what he's doing. He should go back home. It's late. How late? He doesn't know. There are many things he doesn't know, and the thought makes him anxious but he doesn't have time to dwell on it because Vi's kicking a door open and there the rest of her band is.

Jayce stays in the threshold, unsure of what the right move to make is. His emotions are out of control and it's pissing him off, and Vi's maybe girlfriend is staring at him, and fuck it. Fuck it all. He enters the room after Vi, closes the door and loses all his bravado once Vi's too far to get comforted by her just being by his side.

"So this is Jayce. Jayce, this is Caitlyn and that one sulking over there is Viktor," she points at Caitlyn, who he knows is Vi's girlfriend, and then at the other guy. He's sitting on the floor, legs crossed, his hair in disarray and his eyes dodging Jayce's. He doesn't look like he belongs in a punk band. What he does look is familiar, and Jayce frowns at him. Which makes Viktor frown back.

"What," he barks, voice gruff and low as he drags his hand across his hair, and the pieces of the puzzle come together. Jayce knows him, but he's changed a bit over the years. He's rougher around the edges now.

"We were classmates at college," Jayce says, but judging by how Viktor's frown deepens that wasn't the right way to keep the conversation going. "Viktor Evans, right?"

"Viktor Evans, yes. Who are you?"

That stings. Partly because he remembers talking to Viktor, and also because Jayce assumed that everyone knew him in his year. For better or for worse, just generally for worse because he's a jackass. Or so he's been told.

"Jayce Sawyer," he walks Viktor's way and offers him a hand. Viktor doesn't shake it, he kind of gives it a half-assed slap and then grabs it to use it to stand up. Jayce stumbles, caught off guard, but they manage to stay up and in one piece. "You dropped out, right?"

Vi makes a hissing sound by his left and he glances her way. She looks alarmed. Why.

Viktor walks past him and out of the room shoving him with his shoulder on the way. Caitlyn snorts. Jayce blinks at the spot where Viktor had been.

"What was that," he asks, turning to look at Vi, and she shrugs.

"You being a fucking idiot is what it was," she says. "Who even asks that, Jayce?"

Social norms are very confusing, he's realizing. As he's done many times before, but it feels like a revelation.

"It's true, though. Why can't I ask?"

Vi's looking at him like she does when she's going to tell him that he can't actually be that stupid. It happens often. Caitlyn doing too, though, that's new. Not a development he particularly likes.

"I don't even know what to tell you. Just get your stupid ass in gear and apologize, because that was fucking rude."

They're very uptight to be punks, he thinks, but he does let Vi save Viktor's number to his phone and promises her that he'll call.

-x-

It's been a week since, against his better judgment, Jayce went to that concert. He's been agonizing over that apology he owes Viktor for the entirety of it, with Vi nagging him via text every single day. It's not his fault that it's hard to apologize to someone when you don't think you should and when you're a disaster at socializing to begin with. Yet Vi won't be deterred and he breaks on Saturday afternoon and calls.

"Who are you?" Viktor says, on the other end of the line, and Jayce is kind of amused by the feeling of déjà vu.

"Jayce, don't hang up," he waits, expecting Viktor to hang up on him anyway, but all he hears through the static is a sigh that he takes as his cue to go on. "I'm sorry for what I did the other day? Whatever it was."

"I don't care, okay? Just let me be. I don't know you, pretend you don't know me."

"I don't know you, either," Jayce says, before he can get a grip of himself, and curses under his breath.

"Yeah, that's the attitude. Anything else?" Well, now that he knows who he is many things else. Like why even drop out when he was the only one in their class who was on Jayce's level. But he has a feeling that it would be rude as well, for whatever reason, and manages to keep that one in.

"Not...really? When's your next concert?"

"Tomorrow. Midnight, same place. Try not to come dressed like you're going to the yacht club."

Viktor hangs up on him before he can reply.

-x-

According to Vi, he doesn't look like that much of a rich twat.

"More like the kind of guy who would swear on an Elvis album," she says, tossing a shirt she brought with her across the room and into his lap. "You stood up like a sore thumb, kinda out of place."

"How did I look out of place. I'm good looking. I know that. That's half the job done, isn't it?"

"Jayce, you wore a flannel shirt buttoned up to your neck. It was embarrassing. You might be hot, but you're also like the biggest nerd on Earth," she throws a pair of black trousers at him too and he wonders if they came with the rips or if she ripped them off herself. Knowing Vi, it's probably gonna be the latter. "Try those on. I brought you some boots too, just so you don't get any ideas about wearing fucking loafers."

He barely even complains while changing and is very proud of himself for that, taking on account that he's had to jump around like an idiot to get in the stupid trousers. Thankfully, Vi's being polite, for a change, and looking down at her phone until she hears the zipper of the jeans going up.

"How do they look?" Jayce asks, already feeling like an idiot in them, but Vi smiles and it isn't that bad anymore.

"Better than your stupid khakis. Put the boots on already, we're gonna be late."

He does put them on, and a leather jacket that he finds in the depths of his wardrobe. Vi tousles his hair, hushing him when he tries to protest, and at least asks for permission before going to town with the eyeliner. Wearing it is odd and Jayce expects to look ridiculous and more out of place than ever. Once he looks in the mirror he has to admit that it's not that bad. Not his favorite, not something he'd wear much, but good to blend in.

It is also helping with the feeling of actually belonging there, right in front of the stage with who knows how many people pushing him to get closer. Vi steps on stage and strums her guitar, spotlights still off, and a deafening roar envelops him and it's dizzying, the idea that this might be his place. But the spotlights are suddenly on, and Vi's screaming, and Jayce is yelling with her to the beat of the drums instead of thinking about anything else.

He doesn't know the lyrics. He doesn't need to, they resonate with him anyway like the bass echoes through his body. Last week, he laughed like an idiot standing right by the speaker. Now, jumping and screaming and sweating like he's never done in his life, he realizes that he's crying and laughs anyway because who the fuck even does that at their best friend's punk concert.

"How was it?" shouts Vi into his ear after running off the stage, and Jayce has no idea. It's not as if he's ever been very into music before, he isn't sure he's into this music at all now or into the rush.

"It was fun," Jayce answers, and she beams and grabs him by the wrist to drag him backstage. Caitlyn is already there, laying on the floor. Viktor is nowhere to be seen.

"He'll come," Vi smirks at him, and Jayce is still too excited to even feel awkward so he pretends that he hasn't noticed.

Caitlyn sits up and waves at him and Jayce waves back. "His throat was sore, he went to get something for that. Told him to bring you some, too."

"Cool," Vi sits with Caitlyn and Jayce is starting to feel the buzz of his excitement wearing off. That's bad, because then he's going to start feeling anxious and it's going to suck.

The door opens and closes behind him and Jayce turns around and there Viktor is, holding two cups and not even looking at Jayce. Rude.

"Got you some tea. It was hard, pubs don't have tea," Vi snorts but takes the cup from him anyway. Jayce just stands there, quietly, until Viktor glances his way. "You look like Danny Zuko after a mosh pit."

Jayce frowns. "Thank you?"

"That was a compliment, I think," Caitlyn says, standing up to pat Jayce's arm. "Viktor doesn't know how to say nice things in any other way."

"It was a fact."

Jayce feels slightly lost and a little bit offended but it's not as if he picked any of the things he's wearing so it doesn't matter. Much.

"At least I don't look like I'm heading for yacht club anymore, that's progress." he says, and Viktor huffs before taking a sip of tea. Which is ridiculous, now that Jayce has a second to think about it. He's known Vi for almost his entire life and she's always been defiant. She does her own hair, yells at every figure of authority she encounters, and dresses like Jayce would expect a punk to do. Viktor he hasn't known for as long but he did meet him when at college and he kind of yelled at a professor once but that was about it. Sweaters and jeans are not what he'd call appropriate punk attire. Or old fashioned thick rimmed glasses. Or anything about him, besides the way he's looking at Jayce right now, eyes intense and fierce, as if he wants to pick a fight.

"Anyway, we gotta bail," Vi punches his arm and Jayce snaps out of his reverie and blinks at Viktor. He keeps scowling at Jayce until Caitlyn grabs his arm and forces him to leave his cup on the floor and help her carry the drums to the back of the room. Jayce jumps when Vi snorts by his side. "You staring at my girlfriend like that? Gotta warn you, she's as gay as they come."

"Good to know we have something in common. Which you already knew, by the way, so what are you even talking about."

"Is it Viktor, then? You into him?"

Jayce hushes her. "Shut up. I'm just looking, what's up with you? I haven't seen him since he dropped out."

"You shut up. I don't know, Jaycer, you are the kind to do stupid shit like that."

"We can hear you," Viktor says, from the other side of the room, and Caitlyn almost drops a drum laughing. "You aren't even whispering."

Vi flips Viktor off and Jayce laughs to mask his mortification as he does the same.

-x-

Life is a dull thing full of boring stuff. This is a reality with which Jayce made his peace years ago. What he wasn't expecting was exactly how nonsensical it all could get once he didn't have much to do, besides thinking aimlessly about his thesis with no clear schedule. He has a vague idea of when he has to have things ready, but it all feels too far away for him to focus.

There is also the fact that now that he has been to a couple of concerts he feels changed, and stupid for feeling changed. It's not as if he's a different person, or that he now all of a sudden pledges alliance to the Sex Pistols and wants to destroy the establishment. Jayce kind of did want to destroy the establishment even before he knew what the establishment was, and punk still sounds like awful noise to him.

It's the feeling of liberation that confuses him. Never has he believed himself to be someone constraint to or by anything. Sure, college sucked and he dealt with that but it was mostly something that he wanted to do. He isn't doing anything he doesn't want to. Yet, during the concerts, he felt like maybe there were others options. Maybe it was okay to be tired, angry, frustrated. Maybe it wasn't him who sucked at being polite and nice and civil, maybe it was everybody else not getting him what made things hard.

Maybe it was fine to be himself, completely, just because he wanted to.

How could things be the same ever again when he knows that there's been moments in his life in which he's known how it feels to be Jayce, as he has wanted to be forever, and for that to be okay?

There's a knock on the door and he almost falls off his chair, balancing on its hind legs. Right, he's got a life and one friend and it would be a good idea to go back to that and stop with the introspection. Thinking too much about himself and his own way of living and doing things has never brought him any good, after all. And it's way too early for that, he needs to at least have dinner before he starts a journey of self discovery.

Jayce stands and drags his feet towards the door. Vi texted earlier asking when she could get her boots back, and Jayce doesn't expect anybody else to be there. If he had known that Viktor would be standing at his door, looking at him with distaste, he would have had combed his hair. Probably. Or wore something nicer than his pajamas, but done is done and there Viktor is, looking exhausted and hostile, and Jayce steps aside to let him in.

"Where's Vi?"

"With Caitlyn, somewhere," Viktor stomps into the room. Jayce closes the door and wonders how someone who looks so tired can walk with so much purpose. "You got her boots?"

"Yeah. They are by the wardrobe, you can get them yourself," he leaves Viktor to it, doesn't expect him to need him to do anything much, and judging by their recent interactions Viktor won't be happy to hear him talk at all.

So he tries to get something done, read a couple of pages of a book he has on his table, even if he doesn't bother with sitting. It's nice, silent, Viktor is taking a bit too long but whatever, he doesn't care.

It doesn't last.

"You aren't going to ask again?"

Jayce leaves the book on the desk and frowns at Viktor.

"Ask about what," Viktor is standing by his wardrobe with Vi's boots in his hands, frowning too. At Jayce. For whatever reason.

"Why I dropped out."

"Why did you drop out?" he asks, and Viktor's frown deepens as he grunts. "That's why. Listen, I'm bad at people. Can you just let me get this one thing right?"

"Why do you even care?"

Jayce feels like being an asshole and asking what he's talking about, but he knows and Viktor has gone from open hostility to curiosity and exhaustion lightning fast. It's odd, the contrast between the man he knew at college and the one standing in his room. He knows that they are the same, but Viktor now seems less tense. Which, for him, apparently implies still being tense just not quite as much.

"You want me to be honest?" Viktor huffs and okay. Fine. It's a legit question but whatever. "Out of everyone in that classroom, you were the only one on my level. If anyone could've made it through the degree without much trouble, it'd be you. If I remember correctly, your grades weren't half bad. I don't get why you decided to leave it all behind."

Viktor stares at him in silence for long enough that Jayce thinks that he isn't going to answer. So much for honesty. But then he sighs, holding the boots with one hand and dragging his other one through his hair. It's already a mess, and Jayce wants to stop him from doing that. He had that hand on Vi's filthy boots, it shouldn't get anywhere near his hair. Too late.

"You're as arrogant as I remembered, it's kind of comforting. Annoying, too, but what's new with you," Jayce could do without being insulted. Viktor doesn't ask before sitting on his bed, leaving Vi's boots on the floor. It's something that he didn't expect to see in his life, Viktor sitting in his room as if he belongs there with his ugly black sweater and his stupid black jeans. They talked, a bit, when they were classmates. Jayce thought of Viktor as a friend exactly once, the week before he dropped out, during a conversation on the ethics of taking away free will in an end justifies the means situation. And then he never heard about him again until the concert. "You want me to be honest?"

He sounds so serious that Jayce wants to punch him in the nose.

"Sure," he says, instead, and sits on his desk facing Viktor. "Or lie, I wouldn't know."

Viktor gives him the finger. Fair.

"I loved...I love research. It was my life, and I did it seriously. As much as a student can, anyway. But it got too overwhelming for me to handle, and I dropped out."

Jayce knows Viktor enough to see that he isn't lying, but he thinks that he isn't telling him the whole truth either. If he were a kinder man, he'd see that it's not his place to pry. He isn't, though.

"Bullshit. That can't be all there was to it. I mean, I get that it can be overwhelming but it must have been something else."

Viktor huffs. "Sorry I didn't drop out for whatever reason you think I had? I didn't expect you to get it, you had most professors enamored somehow."

The first thought that crosses Jayce's mind is who the fuck even says enamored anymore. The second is that Viktor is being unfair.

"Excuse me? I might be more intelligent than most, we both know that, but I worked hard to get that degree."

That seems to be the last straw. Viktor grabs the boots and stands up, holding Jayce's gaze as he crosses the room towards him. Jayce stays where he is, refusing to give in. Viktor looks ready to throw the shoes at his head, everything about him oozing with aggression. That's new. Back in college he was less prone to showing how he felt. It isn't a bad look on him, anger. Fits the aesthetic.

"You fucking self-absorbed piece of shit," Viktor spits, and Jayce isn't angry, not yet, but Viktor is getting him there. "You think I didn't work my ass off until I couldn't handle it anymore? And what is it to you, anyway?"

Jayce bristles. "You asked, didn't you? I'm only answering. I wasn't going to bring it up, Vi says that it's rude or some bullshit like that."

"I wanted to get it out of the way. If we are going to be around each other because of Vi, we might as well behave. But nothing works with you."

"And you expect me to believe that one of the most brilliant minds in our fucking class left because he was, what, tired?"

Viktor huffs, exasperated, and Jayce wants to grab him by the shoulders and shake him. Scream at him to just tell Jayce what he wants him to do because it'd be easier for everyone involved. It's not the first time he fucks up, it won't be the last, it'd save them time and effort.

"Yes! Why would I leave if not for that? What do you want from me? A dramatic story about betrayal? It doesn't exist, Jayce."

This is absurd and Jayce is tired of arguing. All this fighting spirit that Viktor has acquired over the years is fun to stare at from the sidelines and maybe experience for a bit, but it gets overwhelming fast. He's always been intense, yet Jayce has only known his intensity over philosophical discussions, never as raw as this. Kind of thrilling, if he sets aside just how done he is with all the fighting.

So he tries to change the subject, slightly, hoping that it isn't something rude to talk about too.

"You stopped researching altogether, then? No more of that, only the punk life for you now?"

Viktor laughs, small and gruff, and it's familiar enough to calm Jayce down a little.

"No. I don't think I can do that. It's just...academia is not my thing, okay? You know how it works."

Jayce nods. "Yeah. I get it. It's just...I was...disappointed. Not in you. Well, a little bit in you because I kind of expected big things from you," Viktor kicks his shin, not hard enough to hurt. "It got more boring after you left."

That's...raw, honest and open, and Jayce regrets saying it the second it's out of his mouth. Viktor seems to appreciate it, though, judging by the way he smiles. Small, barely there, hesitant. Jayce smiles back, shrugging. It's as awkward as it gets, but Viktor steps back and relaxes his stance, no longer looking about to punch Jayce in the teeth.

"Still not your place to put any kind of expectations on me," Viktor says, and it shatters the moment and leaves Jayce wanting to punch him in the teeth instead. "I'm leaving before you start doing it again. No concert this Sunday but we'll be at Vi's. Guess she'll tell you when if you ask."

Viktor bolts and leaves before Jayce can see him off. Jayce stares at the door until his phone goes off, and once he checks he sees that it's been ten minutes of him lost in thought unsure of how to feel or react.

Vi: viktor says taht he todl u that we gonna meet this sunday

Vi: be here at noon

Vi: D O N T wear loafers

Jayce blinks at his phone. Is everything going to be so confusing now that he's getting even more tangled in Vi's mess? Before, when it was just them and he kind of knew that she had a band and a girlfriend and other friends that didn't mix with him, there was peace. Now that he's right in the middle of everything, things have the potential to get messy fast.

He types that he'll go and his thumb hovers over the send key.

Is it worth it?

He remembers Viktor's tentative, hesitant, smile. Vi's happy shouting in his ear after the concert. Caitlyn's laughter.

Jayce hits send with a sigh.

-x-

Vi: texted him already

Vi: tell me y u coudlnt do it urself again

Viktor: complicated

Vi: complicated

Vi: ?

Viktor: too long to explain

Vi: ha

Vi: when hasj that worked viktorino

Vi: neer

Vi: fuck never

Viktor pockets his phone and refuses to look at it until he reaches Vi's apartment with her boots. He's pretty sure that she made him get them on purpose, her date with Caitlyn be damned. It's probably fake, anyway. She is home right now, after all, and her doing this can only mean that she has a plan. Viktor dreads to know.

He knocks on the door and Vi opens with a smile so wide Viktor has the impulse to turn on his heel and leave. It's a wicked thing, it spells trouble. A bad omen. However, he's there and he's got her boots so he has to stay. Tragic.

"Viktor, get your ass in here. We gotta talk about your stupid crush on Jayce."

Viktor is aware that showing just how affronted he is by that assumption as Vi drags him inside by the arm isn't going to deter her, so he doesn't bother protesting. This was her plan, then. It all makes sense, now. Fuck.

"Vi," he starts, once they've reached her room, and Vi hushes him and pushes him to sit on her bed. Viktor sits, drops Vi's boots on the floor, and waits. Fighting her has never been productive.

"So how did it go? Did you work things out?"

"In a way, yes," Viktor is hesitant to say that they did, though. It could make Vi try harder to do whatever it is she's trying to do, and he also isn't sure of just how much they tolerate each other. It's hard to say. "He's insufferable, anyway, so don't get your hopes up."

"He's changed since you left college," Vi sits on the floor in front of him and Viktor shrugs.

"Doesn't mean he's less of an arrogant asshole after three years."

"Nah. Still, it has its charm, sometimes."

Right.

"It does not. And I do not have a crush on him." Vi doesn't seem fazed by that at all. It's annoying.

"You almost choked on your own spit when I told you that he was coming backstage."

"I was surprised. I hadn't seen him in years," he tries to answer in a level, reasonable, tone. It's not a very good try. "We barely even talked at college."

"Right. I mean, you don't have to tell me shit if you don't wanna but I know you and I know him. Crush or not, you would've spent weeks dancing around the issue of you dropping out without my helping hand. You're welcome, by the way."

Why must all his friends be infuriating. "Thanks. I almost punched him, it was fun."

Vi does punch him, in the shin.

"He isn't that bad. You know that. He's a tool and he listens to Michael Bublé and cries to Gloria Gaynor but not even I am perfect."

"Vi, he thinks that he can tell me that he was disappointed in me when I dropped out. He thinks that it's an okay thing to say. The right thing to do. That's how he works, because since college Jayce has been the kind of person that doesn't understand how humans work."

She smiles. It's terrifying.

Viktor would also like the condescending edge of it to go away.

"So are you."

-x-

It's the third month of his second year of college and Jayce is seriously considering dropping out.

He's unhappy, stressed out, hasn't slept in weeks, and has been sharing his brain with a headache for what feels like decades. Nothing about what he's doing motivates him anymore. No matter how much he likes the subjects, they're a chore that he'd rather avoid. Professors are paternalistic and lenient towards him and, sometimes, they appear to expect way too much from him. He hates that they would ask less of him than of others, as if he can't do what the others can, but he's also terrified of letting them down, and anxious at the prospect of letting even himself down.

The way he doubts himself, when he's never been one to do so, is taxing. His emotions are out of control and most days anyone who tries to engage him in conversation ends up yelling at him or just leaving and never trying again.

There have only been two exceptions: Vi, who's his best friend and doesn't count, and Viktor, one of his classmates. Who he's not sure why keeps trying to talk to him every once in a while when he has said more than once that Jayce is an obnoxious idiot. His reasoning aside, Jayce is in no mood to be told just how stupid he is for whatever position he tries to defend after two hours listening to the worst professor he's ever had droning about ethics.

Poorly.

Viktor doesn't seem to take the hint when Jayce hangs his bag over his shoulder and marches towards the classroom's door.

"Sawyer," he says, and Jayce chooses to pretend that he didn't hear him and doesn't stop walking. "Jayce. I know you can hear me, are you five?"

Jayce stops, takes a deep breath, and turns around. Viktor is standing a few feet away, arms crossed over his chest. If he weren't so pissed off he'd feel sympathetic at how tired he looks, too.

"No, I am not. What I am is very tired. You were here with me while Pididly missed every point ever made on free will. I'm sure you had loads of fun, too. Now, If you'll excuse me, I'd like to get to my room and write that pointless essay he wants us to hand in tomorrow. Or drop dead, whichever comes first."

Viktor scoffs and Jayce could swear that he's kind of smiling. Hard to tell. He's very pointy, lots of angles, and the room isn't well lit.

"As if it's going to take you more than ten minutes, cut the drama," Jayce could tell him that it was probably going to take him hours because he's the kind to get obsessed with trying to write something good and do it perfectly, but what would be the point of that. "I just wanted to talk to someone, about something Pididly said. And you're the only one I know that would listen."

Jayce doesn't know if he should feel flattered. So far, his conversations with Viktor have been interesting, if slightly frustrating. Viktor, as much as it pains him to admit, is almost as brilliant as he is and his views and positions are just close enough to his that when they clash over something it's big, and they're both passionate and well-informed when it comes to discussing those things. What he does know is that he isn't in the mood to get in a philosophical debate, not today and not on free will of all things.

His curiosity be damned.

Damned to hell, because Jayce finds himself sighing and dropping his bag on the floor despite his reluctance.

"Okay, fine. What do you want to talk about."

Viktor steps closer and Jayce thinks that he should loosen up, a bit. He holds himself so tightly, even the way he walks feels nervous and anxious and contained. It's as if he wants to take as little space as possible. Which serves Jayce just fine, he usually wants his presence to be larger than life, but still.

"Why does Pididly work on the assumption that free will exists at all? I mean, being that he is, as he likes to remind us, the leading expert in Artificial Intelligence it doesn't make much sense."

That's fun. Not that they're gonna talk about Pididly, Jayce is going to try to steer them clear of that, but he sees potential in that conversation.

"That's the wrong question. Who the fuck cares about what Pididly thinks. What we should be asking ourselves is if the concept has any validity left, and what it says."

"What about taking the parts and trying to work with them instead of assuming that free will, as an entity, is to be taken as guaranteed regarding human experience?"

Viktor sits on a desk opposite Jayce, and for all the tiredness that he exudes he looks like something's being lifted off his shoulders. Jayce looks for his own feeling of exhaustion and finds it alive and well but muted enough to smile.

"Freedom and will? Good luck trying to find a concept of freedom that you like. And that's even before we get into will. For all the discussion that there's been regarding free will, the practical thing to do is to take it as something that is there, no matter how in doubt, and work with it. "

"Right. And we haven't even mentioned the self and the other yet, which is an entirely different mess," Jayce's heart skips a beat at Viktor's words and he blames his own anxiety and longing for a conversation that doesn't grate on his nerves for that. "What about a situation in which free will, taking the concept as valid, has to be taken away?"

"I'm guessing that it would depend on the situation, but also on how you explain people who don't know what free will implies, and how it could not be an inherent human quality, that you're taking it away for whatever it is you want to do."

"A situation in which free will is jeopardized to begin with," Viktor says, slowly, and Jayce finds himself leaning in closer to hear him better. "And in which that puts other lives at risk, that could only be saved by stripping it away and including external control."

Jayce thinks that he's going down a dangerous path, theoretically or not. Jayce also thinks that they could spend hours talking about that hypothetical situation if they try.

They do.

Once Viktor takes a look at his phone and curses, they've been talking for three hours and Jayce would've stayed for three more. They've barely scratched the surface, at one point yelling at each other about morality, meta-ethics, the fear of losing control, fear itself, and the public implications of such an action.

Viktor is gathering his stuff from his desk and Jayce stares at him, drawn out but satisfied, and his head still hurts and he still feels like he wants to pass out for a week but he's stopped considering dropping out.

If only for moments like this one, walking out of class with someone he can talk to about the complexities of free will for hours, he will stay.

He smiles at Viktor, Viktor smiles back. It's a weary, thin, thing. Jayce bumps his shoulder with his, in a rare display of his good mood that almost makes him run to his room in embarrassment but Viktor huffs and shoves at his arm. It's good, it's nice, it's fun.

It's the last time he sees Viktor.

-x-

Caitlyn is the one who opens Vi's door on Sunday, looking Jayce up and down. All Jayce knows about her is that she's British and that she's into Vi for some reason, and he's stunned into silence until she waves.

"Hello."

Caitlyn steps aside, leading the way inside. "Jayce. Vi and Viktor are screaming at each other about the Bad Brains. Would you like to come in?"

He follows her towards Vi's room, and sure enough he can hear Viktor and Vi yelling from the corridor. Caitlyn grabs his arm, startling him, and drags him to Vi's tiny living room.

"I'm tired of their bloody screaming matches. I know that they aren't...actually fighting, but it stresses me out. They'll stop, eventually."

Caitlyn sits on Vi's sofa and Jayce hesitates before she looks at him with an eyebrow raised and pats the cushion to her left. Fine. She doesn't bite, he hopes. The silence, though, punctuated by Vi and Viktor yelling in the distance is too tense for his liking. What can they even talk about? What do they have in common? Vi?

"How did you meet?"

"Me and Vi?" he nods, and Caitlyn laughs. "Well it's not...glamorous or anything. Not even that romantic. You and me, we are the same breed."

Jayce is unsure whether or not to feel offended. "How so?"

"I come from a rich family. Had never stepped out of London, lived a pretty dull and boring life. Then I come here on vacation, brave a pub, and meet the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. The only punks I'd known where on Picadilly and took pictures with tourists, you know? And there Vi was, talking about everything that I found absurd and stupid."

"She does that a lot."

Caitlyn snorts. "She does, yes. But picture me, bored out of my mind and unsatisfied with a life that felt scripted, meeting a girl with pink hair that spoke about liberation as if it were possible. As if she believed in it. Once I felt what it was like, going back to London was unbearable. I also fell in love with her, as you know, and decided to take a chance for once. It's worked out nicely, if I do say so myself."

She smirks, and Jayce is going to ask her why. How. Where did she get the courage to leave it all behind. Doesn't she regret it, sometimes? Wouldn't she want to go back to what she knew? To the safety of a life that was laid down for her beforehand? But Vi comes barreling into the room then, throwing herself at Caitlyn, with Viktor following her dragging his feet.

"Hey, Jaycer! Welcome to my humble abode. Sorry I sent Cait to the door, was busy kicking nerd ass."

"Don't let her trick you, she has no idea what she's talking about," Viktor says, as he sits by Jayce, and Vi sticks her tongue out. Jayce knows himself and had anticipated that being in a room with three more people, one of which being very loud, would be overwhelming. Just not how much. "Anyway. These gatherings are usually an excuse for Vi to make out with Caitlyn while I write lyrics, you can come with me if you want to."

If Viktor has sensed his discomfort somehow and acted on it or is being serious, he doesn't want to discover by staying there with Vi and Caitlyn so he stands when he does and follows him back into Vi's room, taking a deep breath against the closed door.

Kind of funny, being an overbearing self-assured asshole that gets antsy when with more than two people at once in the same couch.

"You okay?" Viktor asks, and Jayce tries to laugh but doesn't quite get there.

"Not used to crowds."

He expects a dry remark. Something like three people not being a crowd. Viktor just nods and sits on Vi's bed.

"I kind of lied, anyway. We usually rehearse until Vi's neighbors call the cops on us and we have to run. What I said happens sometimes, though," Jayce cannot picture Caitlyn and Viktor running away from cops, not with how Caitlyn talks and with how Viktor looks, but it's fun to try. "You just looked uncomfortable, I guess. Sorry for interfering, in any case."

"No, it's fine. Thanks. I can come back if I want to, it's not a big deal."

Once he gets his people person persona back, and stops screwing up his own social life. Would be nice if that happens soon.

"I would advise against that, they are probably making out now that they're alone."

Jayce laughs, and is surprised at himself when it doesn't come out half as awkward as he expected. Viktor isn't even smiling, just sitting there with his stupid messy hair and his straight nose and his awful fashion choices. Jayce sits with him on Vi's bed, willing himself to stop thinking that it's a weird thing to do. That they weren't even good friends at college, that the longest conversation they've had recently has been half a fight, that it's odd to sit on a bed with someone you haven't seen in three years. But at least, he reasons, it's a chance to try and find out what Viktor's been up to since he left.

"So...how's life been."

Viktor huffs, and Jayce glances his way. "Seriously? Just going straight for it?"

"Why not."

"It's been three years, what makes you think I'm going to tell you anything."

Jayce shrugs. "I don't know. You could choose not to, but can you really resist this face."

Vi would pester him about flirting for years. Which he isn't doing, thank you very much. He's trying to...do something. Make a friend. Remake a friend? Talk to Viktor, about anything, just so they don't have to sit on Vi's bed in tense silence until they decide on something to do. That's reasonable.

"Well I can, and I'm going to. All you need to know is that I met Vi and started writing songs," Viktor catches him staring and frowns, but it doesn't feel like he wants to pick a fight. More like he's puzzled and trying to figure Jayce out, and it's making Jayce antsy. "It's been good. I had a harsh time after dropping out, but things are looking better now."

There that fierceness is again, as if he has to show Jayce in any way he can that what he thinks and has to say regarding his choices doesn't matter. Jayce looks at him, at the way his jaw is set and his eyes are narrowed, and he wouldn't say that Viktor is handsome. Not really. Yet he is, kind of, when he's looking at Jayce with the intensity of someone ready to refute every single point he makes.

Jayce gathers himself and looks away before he can follow that train of thought any further.

"I was thinking of dropping out the last time we talked before you did," he says, instead of any other reasonable thing that doesn't make him vulnerable, because he's been left raw and open and he hasn't talked about it with anyone, not even Vi. "Considering it."

"You don't have to tell me shit, you know? It's not as if I'm going to trade secrets with you," Viktor's voice is harsh. Jayce doesn't resent him. Much. "We both were in a bad place, took different paths. Looks to me like we're both sitting on the same bed right now so there's that."

Jayce, against his better judgment, turns to look at Viktor again. He's already staring at him, dead serious, and wanting to kiss him should be more of a shock. They don't even know each other that well, it's not like they've talked much. Yet Jayce can't deny it.

"I don't want to trade, just want to talk. You say I'm an obnoxious asshole but have you ever heard yourself?"

"What do you want to talk about? How you made the right choice and I didn't?"

Kiss him or punch him, whichever happens first if he doesn't drop the subject.

"No, you fucking idiot. I want to talk about me almost dropping out and how I didn't because we had a talk on free will that made me stay."

All this being sincere and emotional around Viktor is getting out of control.

Viktor looks at him, piercing and searching, and drags his hands through his own hair with a long suffering sigh. Jayce's fingers twitch.

"You are kidding."

"No."

Then Viktor grabs his face with both hands and Jayce's stomach drops, and Vi's voice comes booming from the corridor.

"Stop sucking face, Vi and Caitlyn coming through!"

And the door opens with a bang and his face feels colder than it has ever been, and Viktor's staring resolutely ahead and not at him.

"So there's some tension here," Vi says, and Jayce starts laughing and can't stop. Someone's patting his back but he doesn't care who. By the time he's recovered, only Vi's left in the room with him. "Were you really snogging, dude?"

"No, we weren't. No. I think we were getting there, though, so thanks for that," Vi's eyes go so wide that Jayce is on the brink of having another laughing fit.

"You are shitting me. Fuck. Sorry. Caitlyn and Viktor are in the living room, I can tell him to come back. Respect the sanctity of my bed. Please."

Jayce snorts. This isn't happening. He isn't talking to Vi about how he thinks that they almost maybe kissed. For all he knows Viktor could've been trying to headbutt him.

"No, it's fine. I'm not sure if that was going to happen, really," it isn't every day that he feels lightheaded enough to laugh himself stupid, Vi's his best friend, he's already being awfully honest. To hell with it all. "I wanted it to. No idea about him."

"Shit. I mean. I knew that you kinda had the hots for him because he's your type and you talked about him when you were at college and don't even fight me on this, Jaycerino, but I didn't know it would happen so fast. What are you gonna do now? Talk to him?"

He shrugs. There's not much that he can say. He'd fight her on Viktor being his type, but there's no use in trying to contradict Vi in anything she says.

"No idea. Go home, I guess. Think it through."

"Okay. Fine. But don't think about it too much or you'll scare yourself out of talking to him."

"I won't"

He goes home, relieved that Viktor isn't behaving any differently when he and Caitlyn see him off at the door, and he spends the entire week thinking about it until he ends up scaring himself out of doing anything at all.

-x-

Viktor stays after Caitlyn leaves. He sits with Vi on the floor, shoes off, and waits for her to start harping on it as she usually does.

When the clock reaches two in the morning and she's still rambling on about how good Al Schvitz is on the drums, Viktor can't stop bouncing his leg and needs to let it out before his own feelings make him explode.

Emotions are an awful thing to have, a curse.

"Vi, I have a problem."

She stops talking, blinks at him, and smiles. "I'm listening."

"Jayce is my problem."

"We have many things in common, you and I. Pity we are both so tragically gay," Vi pats his foot. "So what's your problem, exactly?"

"I...don't laugh at me, I'll punch you," he warns, and Vi pats him again. "I had a crush on him when we were at college. We didn't talk much but he was handsome, he was smart, he could hold himself in a conversation. He was interesting."

Vi hums. "Yeah. He said some stuff about you too, around that time. I'm noticing that you're talking in the past tense here? We dealing with a Jayce impersonator now?"

"Shut up. My...feelings," Vi snorts. Viktor tries to ignore her. "Died with time. Or so I thought. Did you know that I dropped out because of him?"

"No, but I wouldn't be surprised. He's annoying."

"It wasn't because of that. We talked about free will, it made me think about freedom, I started theorizing and decided to follow my own views on the matter and refuse to do anything I didn't want to do. It was...pretty dramatic."

"Oh, I remember how you were back then. That's when we met, at the pub. Loved how angry you were, got extra points for yelling at a cop."

"Focus. You mentioned him, sometimes, but I figured that he wasn't the kind to be interested in what we do. But he was. And today we talked, not about the things we used to but still."

"He's still handsome, and smart, and can hold himself in a conversation?"

Viktor is about to open up and drop his heart on Vi's floor. She's going to have to deal with that mess. She's asking for it.

"It's worse than that, he cares. About...me, and other things I guess. I hate it."

"But not him."

"Not him."

"Cool."

"In which way is me having a crush on Jayce again cool, enlighten me."

Vi sighs, as if she's very tired. It is late, but he knows that she stays up later than that.

"You are an idiot and are going to have to figure it out by yourself. Now go to sleep before I kick your ass out of my house."

-x-

Vi: hes coming backstage today too

Vi: prlly overthought everythign and about to fuck up

Caitlyn: have a little faith love

Vi: impossible

Vi: i know him i know how he is hes gonna fuck up i dont wanna watch

Vi: and viktors liske so into that idiot

Vi: haaateeweww theeememeemmee

Caitlyn: should we leave them to it, then?

Vi: yyyyeeeaaah

Vi: wanna go midnight bowlin?

-x-

The backstage is empty when Jayce gets there, still reeling and breathless, until the door opens with a bang and Viktor stomps in and stops dead once he spots Jayce there.

"You know where Vi and Caitlyn are?" Viktor asks, and Jayce shrugs. "At least they cleaned up before they left."

He stares as Viktor sits on the floor and starts fiddling with his bass as if Jayce isn't even there. As if Jayce isn't questioning everything he knows about him, and everything he's ever thought true about himself and how he wants to live his life, because he's attended three of his concerts and has had the revelation that he finds Viktor hot when he plays.

Up on the stage, Viktor isn't like the person he knew at college. He's much more like the one he's starting to know now; defiant, looking for an excuse to fight whoever gets in his way, intense. Free. Jayce has a feeling that, back at college, Viktor was still defiant and intense and a fighter, just less prone to showing it. It's thrilling, being able to see him be so unashamedly when he's out there.

Losing the possibility of experiencing this just because he wants to maybe make out with him? Not a good plan. So he'll swallow his feelings down and go on with his life, get a PhD, keep on being smarter and prettier than average, and stop worrying about Viktor.

Who's staring at him from the floor, bass held between his legs, frowning.

"What's up with you?" Viktor asks, leaving the bass propped against the wall.

He decides to cop out and answer a question with another question just to deflect.

"Does it always feel like this?"

"What? Going to a concert?" Jayce nods and Viktor smiles and stands up, stepping closer. "Not always, but most times."

"How is it for you, up there?"

Viktor won't stop looking at him, and Jayce won't stop looking at Viktor. It's wreaking havoc on his nerves.

"There's nobody here now, want to try going out there?"

He blames nodding on how dazed and exhilarated he still is as Viktor grabs his arm and drags him out of the room and onto the stage. The spotlights are off and they're the only one's there, yet Jayce can feel his heart beating in his throat. Up on the stage, looking down on the empty pub floor, it's as if he could do anything. Be whoever he wanted to be. It's like being down there looking up at Vi as she sings only tenfold.

Jayce has never learned to play an instrument or sing. All he knows about music has been taught to him by Vi. His taste is, according to her, boring and bland. Yet, in that moment, he feels like he could be a part of what they have. Leave everything behind. He gets what Caitlyn said, now, how they're the same breed.

"When we talked about free will," Viktor starts, and Jayce turns to look at him. He's looking ahead, Jayce catching only his profile. "Freedom became something that I wanted to pursue. Here, on this stage, is the only place where I feel free. And only when we are done, and I'm too tired to think of me as me."

Asking Viktor if he loses himself to his music would be a shameful over-simplification, so he doesn't. Jayce keeps looking at his profile, sharp angles softened under the weak lightning in the pub, until Viktor turns to him.

"So you think about the philosophy of self after you're done singing about fucking the system?"

"Not as such, but close. It doesn't get freer than not being at all."

Jayce's resolve regarding not acting on his feelings at all crumbles under Viktor's gaze, it's shattered by the way he looks standing on the stage like he owns it even if he doesn't dress much like a punk. It dies at the hands of Viktor's half smile, eyes set on Jayce, barely a foot apart. Just casually existing in his same space, breathing his same air. The gall.

"Hypothetically speaking," Jayce starts, trying for casual but probably failing. "If I were to kiss you right now, would you throw me off the stage?"

Viktor steps closer. "Try me."

Jayce grabs him by the neck of his stupid sweater and kisses him with no finesse. Viktor kisses back, fierce and intense and everything Jayce expected him to be. A fighter, even when he's cradling Jayce's face in his hands. Jayce lets go of his sweater and buries his fingers in Viktor's hair, sighing into the kiss. Viktor ducks his head, takes a breath, and bites at Jayce's jaw before taking a step back. Jayce's hands fall on his shoulders.

"You're still on the stage," Viktor says, voice deep and low, and a shiver runs up Jayce's spine.

"Shocking."

"I can still push you off if that's what you are into."

Jayce kisses Viktor before he can keep on talking because it's tragic, how much of an idiot he is and how into him Jayce is anyway.

-x-

A month after they, according to Vi, got over themselves Viktor's playing his bass laying on Jayce's bed and Jayce is writing down a timeline for his thesis.

Jayce looks up from his laptop at Viktor, humming along to what he's playing, and as he looks at the tense line of his shoulder and the mess that his hair is he's acutely aware of how noisy the music that Viktor likes is.

Viktor glances his way.

Jayce shuts his laptop down, crosses the room and kisses him. Viktor laughs into it and pushes him away with a hand on his chest.

"Tired?" Viktor asks, and Jayce shakes his head. Viktor shrugs and keeps on playing.

It's terrible.

Jayce feels alive.

#league of legends #viktor the machine herald #jayce #jayceviktor #fic #viktor league of legends #glorious tomorrow #my brand is them having 11 phds each and still needing vi to sort things out for them because they suck at feelings

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sincerelyjanies · 4 years

Text

“In some families, ‘please’ is described as the magic word. In our house it was ‘sorry’.”

before.

Janie is eying Jo’s giddiness. It’s not like Janie has never seen her best friend giddy, it’s not even like Jo’s a miserable person who never feels joy. It’s just that there’s something to this emotion that sends a signal of something changing to Janie. Jo is a quiet girl, like her.

The look on her face… it’s like all her dreams have just come true. And if Janie didn’t know any better, she’d say it mirrors the face she had gotten when Nate admitted he liked her back. It was that feeling you could only get from love: that feeling like a balloon that made it feel like your heart, your happiness, had expanded beyond you.

When Janie asks, Jolene goes a red that contrasts with her orange hair as she mumbles something into her turkey and swiss, brushing it off as nothing.

after

Janie is laying in bed, curled into a ball. Loud, angry sounding music is blasting from a stereo that she hadn’t touched in years. Long after sleepover dance parties and fake concerts between her and Jo had ended, but she’d popped in an old death rock CD and if her mother were home, she knew that the stereo would be taken away and a lecture would be given.

Janie doesn’t hear the music. She doesn’t feel the angry beat of the drums and the shouting that seem to rock everything on her shelves. She is numb, lying in a bed two weeks after Jo’s funeral.

Her mother had washed the sheets and remade the bed yesterday. This had made her so angry, as if her mother had taken another piece of Jo that Janie could never get back.

She knows early that she heard Nate outside the window, somehow. The music was loud and she was enough her comforter, despite that fact that May had bleed into mid June, but she could hear the window rattle distantly.

Nowadays, Nate feels like a distant dream, but sometimes he’s right in front of her, touching her cheek. She just feels so alone and she keeps calling Jolene’s cell, hoping against hope it’s a joke. Jo will be leaving for Chicago. She was going to be an engineer, and she’s going to answer and tell Janie about her dorm and classes and her roommate, Carrie.

But Jo’s phone was missing. Missing, just like Jo had been. Like the matching charm bracelet she had with Janie. The one with the Ravenclaw charm and the matching sea horse and carousel horse.

Janie’s wrist still has the charm bracelet, and she presses it tight to her chest, and a piece of her thinks about how she didn’t give Jo the last charm and how they were supposed to shop for dorm room things in Terre Haute in July to shop for shower curtains and comforters, and all she can do is cry about that.

before

III

Caitlyn Gallagher is skateboarding away, down the long hill in the back of the school that leads to Sweet Pea Drive, and Jo is watching her leave, a big stupid grin is plastered on her face. Her back is to Janie as the small girl comes up to her, her notebook opened to trig equations. “I hate Mr. Brenner,” she whines, looking at her notebook with red cheeks and a pout on her lips.

They’re in their usual spot, waiting for Nate, his siblings, and Henry. To Janie, nothings changed. Everything is as it always was. She doesn’t see that Jo’s in love and is currently watching as Caitlyn skates into nothing more than a memory.

Jo hums and turns to her friend when the red head is gone. “We can study later, if you want to.” Janie looks up finally, beaming and hugs her friend.

“Jolene Grace Olsen, you’re the love of my life.”

It’s a would-be-ill-timed statement, because behind her stood Nate and a bunch of middle schoolers, one including Clara Gallagher who is holding a skateboard of her own, blowing a massive bubble with her chewing gum. Soon, she too follows suit of Caitlyn and skates down the hill, holding up her middle finger to one of her friends who shouts something at her.

Janie is kissing Nate’s lips softly and Jo sees, then turns to look back at the hill, thinking of Cait again, but no one knows or asks.

Janie links arms with her best friend and they begin to talk as always. She’s nervous about acceptance letters that should be coming in soon.

A normal girlfriend would be glued to her boyfriend, a different type of boyfriend would have felt annoyed by being a third wheel to a best friend, but the girls know Nate’s aware that he stumbled into a sisterhood that runs deep. Janie’s first choice is Jo, and Jo’s is Janie.

after

He’s talking to her. They’re laying next to one another, but she can’t hear a word of what’s being said. She tries to listen, feels guilty that she can’t. She’s playing with her charm bracelet. It spins and spins, making noises. Charms clank and the noise is the give away that Janie truly isn’t here.

She’s staring at her charms, as if they are talking, giving clues as to what happened and why.

Elephant charm: the one Jo gave her for her tenth birthday. Clover charm: for her acceptance to William and Mary. There’s a charm that’s not from Jo, and it makes her mad. She pretends to be mad at Nate for it. It’s easier to place this upon him. He got her a charm and she shoved it eagerly on her charm bracelet. The one she shared with Jo.

It was their thing.

She’d taken it off one night and threw it against her wall. She thinks it landed in her hamper but pretended not to care.

The bracelet spins like a carousel, and her mind is blank. It’s empty and hollow, but deep down she just wants to call her best friend and tell her how she feels. They’d talk about this loss and go to the bowling alley for cheese fries and then go for a drive. She had made Jo a mixed CD her trip to Chicago.

Jo’s car was too old for an aux cord. Janie didn’t even have her license yet. She was supposed to get it in the beginning of June. She’s going to live in Pennsylvania soon, so it’s practical.

It’s July now and a piece of her mind thinks she should get it before August.

She feels Nate tighten his grip around her waist, but she doesn’t register it. She thinks about Jo’s car. Earl, the clunky Toyota hatchback that could hardly start is probably still there in the driveway, waiting for someone who isn’t coming back. Just like Janie.

before

The three of them are at the Bowling Alley. Lucky Strike hasn’t been cool since eighth grace, but neither of them care. Lucky Strike has the best cheese friends and neither girl has ever wanted to party down by the reservoir - the cool thing to do.

Janie is sitting beside Nate, he has his arm draped across the back of her chair and Janie is talking fast, her whole body alight and animated as she talks about a book they’d recently read. To an outsider, it’s clear that Nate, despite being the boyfriend, is the duo’s third wheel, and Jo likes that he doesn’t feel threatened by it. Other boys would’ve told her to get lost, but Nate seems to understand that Jo got here first. She had dibs.

When Caitlyn comes in with Clara, who takes off to join her friends, Jo’s throat dries, but no one seems to notice that or the way she’s looking at the red head.

If Jo’s hair is orange, Caitlyn’s a deep shade of red, almost like an autumn leaf. Her face - her entire body, really, is covered in freckles that Caitlyn says she doesn’t hate, which is rare for a redhead.

Caitlyn is standing beside Tally Edwards, a girl in their class. The lesbian. The one who chopped off her hair and screamed. The girl Jo most envies. She’s the one people know, but not the only one who likes girls.

Caitlyn is a year younger, and she’s somewhat popular in the way sporty girls seem to be. She’s the captain of the girls field hockey team and plays ice hockey. She once told Jo that the track coach wanted her to tryout, but she hated the idea to run for sport. She loves running up by the old abandoned mill where the hills are so steep. She had introduced Jo there. Or, really, reintroduced Jo. She hadn’t been there since her and Janie were ten, when they believed it was haunted and tried to spend the night before Henry accidentally told.

She’s so pretty. It’s all Jo can think as Caitlyn steals some fries. She, Tally and Nate get their own table, their own fries, but Jo wishes they’d stay just as much as Janie wishes Nate wouldn’t leave. Neither will say it aloud though. Janie doesn’t want to look obsessed and Jo doesn’t want the questions.

Despite being a year younger, Caitlyn is way more confident than Jo. Sometimes, Jo thinks about throwing caution to the wind and telling the world she’s in love. She knows Caitlyn would too. She’s had two boyfriends prior to Jo, but Jo was her first time.

Janie had told Jo the slight details of her and Nate’s first time: the atmosphere, all the candles and the music, she talked about how there was a slight pressure but she didn’t bleed or feel torn apart. She had been too red face to share more, just that it’d been everything she could have hoped it to be.

“Are you okay?” Janie asks, head cocked to the side and Jo blushes, realizing she’s been staring and mumbles a yes.

after

She found a photo of Jo she took on her polaroid. The room is dark, sans the glow from a nightlight she had to recently uncover from a box beneath her bed. The dark has begun to scare her. She swears she hears Jo begging for help, or worse, mercy, and even worse, her.

She’s sitting in the middle of the floor, clutching it like it’s a life raft. Jo is laughing, she thinks it was taken around Jo’s fifteenth birthday. Regardless, they were in the barn. Jo is sitting so her legs dangle off the edge of the hay loft and Nate is beneath her, off to the side, laughing.

Janie wants to crawl inside the photo and never leave.

She doesn’t remember the joke or what made her grab the camera, and that makes her sob like nothing else has yet.

before

VII

Janie is holding up her new polaroid camera. It’s from the thrift store, but Janie doesn’t care. She should be careful with her photos, the films expensive, but she’s snapped three of Nate with no signs of stopping by the time Jo rides in on her bike.

Janie turns, camera in hand, and snaps a photo that causes Jo to protest.

“I cannot wait for your project to be over,” Janie says as they lay in the grass, cloud watching. Jo makes an agreeing noise, but says nothing. Her and Caitlyn’s French assignment ended weeks ago. She knew Janie would understand, but lying has become the only clear logic she has, and she hates herself for it.

Janie is playing with grass and Jo knows Nate is content with their silence, but Jo feels restless. The lie seems to weigh down her chest and she wants to bellow the truth. Maybe she’d scream so loud, it’d make a tornado and her chest would be weightless.

She doesn’t do any of that, though. She’s tried to tell Janie, many times. It’s always a variation of an excuse: Nate’s here, she’s tired, I’m tired, it’s late, we’re at school, it’s not the right time. They pile together and soon, she’s know they’ll explode.

Janie knows something is wrong, it’s the way she turns and eyes her, but instead of asking she grabs Jo’s hand and smiles.

after

VIII

“I miss you,” she’s saying to Jo. They’re up in the loft. Jo is going on about graduation details, pacing back and forth by the ladder. Janie is laying in the hay, watching her move back and forth. “I miss you so much,” she whispers and a sob is clinging to her voice.

“My mother was going to by streamers, Janie! Streamers! As if we’re five!” She’s venting as if this is somehow a tragedy. And to Jo, they would’ve been. Streamers were, after all, for babies.

She can hear Nate bellow by the ladder, but she doesn’t really hear him, she’s watching Jo pace and talk, and she’s clinging to this mirage of her best friend venting about a party the Olsens’ aren’t having for something she died to early to attend.

Graduation is tomorrow. She’s supposed to give a big speech, but she hasn’t written a single world.

Jo turns, smiling, just like she did when they parted ways at Sweet Pea road, back when they were going to sleep over. “There’s something I need to tell you. Later, though. Okay?” There was no later and she curls her arms around her head, wishing she could scream. She’s scream so loud she’d rip a hole into time. Henry always talks about things like that. He’s nine, but so unbelievably smart.

She hears the ladder rattling, feels Nate beside her, and she wants to curl into him. She wishes he’d yank the pain from her, or tell her how she’s going to move on. Nate is, without a doubt to her or Jo, the love of her life, but Jo was a piece of her she realizes she may not be able to live without.

before

VIIII

“God, he’s such a creep!” Jo hissed beside her. They’re watching Eddy retreat down the hall and Janie sighs, but says nothing more.

Janie used to tolerate Eddy’s crush. She’s not mean, she just… doesn’t like him. Not like that, but lately, she hardly stands him. He antagonizes Nate, and she gets the sense he wants to own her, not love her. She and Nate are partners, and she can’t imagine having a love that feels like ownership.

Caitlyn passes them, and in the pass, she and Jo exchange a note that Jo puts in her pocket. Janie is busy maneuvering the crowded hallway to notice and Jo feels grateful for that.

Later when Eddy finds Janie she’s in the library with Nate, studying. He’s glaring at the scene when Jo shoves past him. Jo is not a confrontational girl at all. But the way he leets and borderline stalks Janie creeps her out. She knows Eddy is giving her a death look, and Jo pretends not to care. He kind of scares her, but nothing scares her as much as Janie’s older brother, Frankie.

Frankie has never done anything to Jo. In fact, he avoids his younger siblings entirely. There’s something about him that terrifies Henry and Janie. Henry avoids him at all costs, and Janie told her a story how once, when she was four, he talked her into going into the pig pen at their Uncle Hank’s farm. He had been seven, and knew things about animals. Janie had been sure about that when she told the story, and her face had been pale thinking about how her uncle had seen her go in from the kitchen window. Frankie had gotten a belt to him, and Janie stopped telling it abruptly. Jo knew and Janie knew that Frankie had meant harm, but neither girl said anything.

Frankie has this look in his eyes Jo has never seen in another human being. He’s dark and it sends chills down her spine. Jo keeps her mouth shut, though. He’s Janie’s brother and that means something. And she loves Henry.

Janie’s younger brother, Henry, can be really annoying. He’s loud, enthusiastic and talks about things no one cares about, but Jo can’t help but melt around him, especially when he grins. He’s pure and innocent and the most genuine person she knows.

Throwing a warning look across her shoulder to Eddy. Avoiding Nate and Janie’s table, she goes to the back of the library where the old AV room that’s been abandoned since they moved to the room by computer lab years ago is. She knocks softly on the door and it opens hardly a crack and she grins and goes in.

after

Janie is laying beside Nate. She, like him, is naked and covered in sweat. She’s facing the wall of his bedroom, her eyes unseeing as she looks ahead. It’s so hot in his room, but she’s wrapped in the sheet as if it’s below zero outside. She regrets doing this. She shouldn’t have. She knows that.

Earlier, she’d been in his room, searching for the girl she’d been back in May.

Janie had been eager for life; she’d been eager for the future. She had hung up her acceptance to William and Mary on the bulletin board above her desk. She had the supply list beside it, ticking off her accomplishments as she’d finished them. Her bedroom calendar hasn’t been touched.

Before, Janie crossed out every single day to the start of college, which had been circled over and over again. September felt forever away that March when she wrote it down, now it’s coming so fast she can’t even breathe. Janie’s calendar still reads May and Jo’s disappearance is left uncrossed.

She’d been so scared to leave Nate in the fall. Jo was going to Chicago, and she felt scared to be apart from them. She was sure Nate would find a better girlfriend and Jo would find a best friend who loved architecture, science and Star Wars as much as her and forget all about her.

Ironic how that turned out.

She shouldn’t have used him. He’s the love of her life, she shouldn’t look for emotions in their sex. It’s always made her feel beautiful and loved, but this time felt empty and mechanic. Janie knows she’s being unfair, but she can’t stop.

If she’s not sad, she’s angry and resentful, and if she’s not that, she’s robotic and empty.

Henry and Nate are the only ones who seem to care, so it’s easier to be mad at them. Janie never knows why she resents them, and she hates herself for it.

Her parents are useless. They act like nothings wrong, as if it’s hormones and not depression.

Janie’s grief stages are erratic. She’s not even sure if she’s in the grieving stage. Depending on the hour, she bounces around between depression, anger, denial and bargaining.

Nate tries to touch her shoulder, but she lets out this gasp like he’s burnt her flesh. Jerking away, she gathers up the sheet and hides her body from him, making excuses on why she needs to leave. Janie knows that he knows she’s lying, but she can’t stop herself. Maybe there’s a stage of grief that shoves people away who love you. Maybe it wants her to ruin Nate and Henry. She has already ruined herself, why not the rest of the good in her life?

before

Janie runs into the barn. Nate is doing backbreaking work, and Janie launches herself at him, a letter clutched in her hand. “I got in!” she’s shrieking with joy.

William and Mary has been her dream college since middle school. Her parents had taken them to Williamsburg, and her mother had taken her on a tour of the campus. Her Aunt Meg had gone there, and the moment Janie entered the campus, she felt at home. She just knew this was where she belonged.

Jo had been accepted to the U of Chicago the week prior. Jo had always loved the idea of being lost in a big city, but not Janie. The idea of being lost had always scared her. The idea of being far from Hawkins and Jo and Nate scares her, but she’s so excited.

“We’ll stay together, right? This won’t end for us, will it?” she asks him that night. She’s curled against him and tracing patterns along his torso. That was March and the world had been theirs. She closes her eyes as she kisses his chest, smuggling closer and wishing they could stay there forever.

after

XII

A black dress, that’s what she wore. Jo hated black. She vented about the myth of black being slimming more than once. Jo loved color. Her favorites had been electric blue and neon pink. “I love the eighties,” she’d say with a grin.

Her hair had been too short for scrunchies. Jo always kept her hair short, pixie-like. Unlike Helena, who Jo envied, her hair had been a more orange hue and had an awful kink if it grew past her chin. It would be stick straight at the top, and then, like a week, grow in toward her neck and then out past her shoulder. Jo had cried after the many attempts of fixing it. She loved long hair and had almost cried when Tally Edwards had sheared off all of hers.

Janie had been meant to read a eulogy. She knew Jo would’ve been strong enough to fight past the pain, but Janie can’t. The words she has no memory writing blur into a fog and she looks at the paper, flushed, thinking how she should’ve teased her hair and worn a neon pink scrunchie and electric blue dress and eye shadow.

When Jo’s dad comes beside her, touching her lightly on the shoulder, he assures her that it’s okay. He has tears in his eyes as he leads her back to her seat by the front. Her mom is looking at her with shame and disgust, they raised her to be stronger than that.

Turning she finds Nate and his family. Henry is beside her and he squeezes her hand and she wants to cling to his neck and sob, but somehow she looks ahead with dry, hard eyes.

When the casket lowers, the noise Jo’s mom makes is something Janie has never forgot. It was like someone tore her soul apart, and Janie is just looking at the white casket lowering further and further away from them.

Soon, she will be putting a yellow rose and dirt upon it. Janie thinks it should’ve been sunflowers. Jo always liked sunflowers.

When it’s hurt turn, she bites back bile and a sob claws her throat, but she just stands there, thinking that she and Jo should go to the sunflower field again, that Jo would like that. She’d take polaroids. Monday when they go to the mall, they’ll do the photo booth as their last hurrah before college.

before

XIII

They’re at the park on the swings. Jo is almost flying, Janie is more subdued. She’s worried and Jo slows, then stops.

“I keep thinking how this is the end of an era, you know?” She answers when Jo asks her what’s wrong.

Jo snorts. “Jane, we are always going to be best friends. I demand it to be so, and we have matching charm bracelets. That bonds us for all eternity,” she says matter of factly, shaking the bracelet in Janie’s face. She smiles and grabs her best friends hand and they share a grin. Then Jo’s slowly fades and she opens her mouth, swallowing hard.

Jo wants to tell Janie. Now is a perfect time as any, but she can’t, and she voices her fears of college instead.

after

XIIII

“Janie, you have to talk him. At least say goodbye!” the Jo of her imagination says. She’s sitting on the bed as Janie meticulously folds her fall sweaters and places them in the suitcase in front of her.

She has nothing new for school beyond a set of zebra print sheets Jo made her buy, a floral shower curtain and some room decor. She and Jo had way more plans and she’s shamed by the fact that she’d wasted it when Jo couldn’t go.

“I can’t,” she whispers, unable to ignore the ghost anymore. Jo has been there everyday the closer September came. She hasn’t seen Nate since that night, almost over a week.

He comes by, but she hides under the comforter and hasn’t opened her curtains since May, anyway.

Janie knows she can’t say goodbye to him. She wants to; she even wrote him a letter one night, trying to explain, but she tore it to confetti and curled into her bed.

Henry came in one day and yanked the cover off of her and yelled at her for treating Nate this way, so her door has been locked since then and her room feels more like Rapunzel’s tower now, and she’s too scared to let down her hair and let the prince in.

“Janie talked to him. Please! You love him, don’t throw that away.”

Janie folds another cardigan and soon Jo is gone and she is truly alone.

before

It’s May. Jo and Janie were supposed to go to Terre Haute and do more shopping tomorrow. Janie was going to spend the night, but called to cancel. Asher is in the hospital and that makes Jo’s heart freeze.

Asher is tiny and cute, and the idea of him sick and looking small in a bed with IVs in his arm makes her blood go cold.

“No, it’s fine! I’ll bring him something fun tomorrow. I promised him I’d teach him crazy eights, but I haven’t had time, but tomorrow I’m going to make time!”

When they hang up, Jo plays with the carousel horse charm. She’s a month shy of eighteen, but all she could think of was tonight she planned on telling Janie. She keeps blaming fate, but she’s a coward. Her and Janie are intimate in a way best friends are. They’ve shared a bed, skinny dipped in the pond, got undressed together during sleepovers. All that could be taken different, seen with new eyes and that scares her.

Janie would fiercely support her, and while she knows that, the fear wins every single time.

Soon… Soon, she will tell her.

after

XVI

There’s a lot Janie loves about college. Her roommate, Clemence, is nice. She’s from Delaware and they bond over small towns.

She loves the library and her ethics class, but her favorite place is the coffee shop off campus. When she was younger, she knows she’d imagine the perfect romance. Now, she imagines Nate finding her there.

It’s almost Thanksgiving and Janie hasn’t made plans to go home. She knows she won’t, she’s a coward.

If she saw Nate now, she don’t even know what she’d say? A sorry. How pathetic.

She sits there and thinks about him, wishing she was back in Hawkins just to know he was okay, that she hasn’t broken him, that he’s free of whatever they were and chalks it up to young, puppy love.

Deep down, Janie knows that’s a lie. They were real, and that’s the tragedy of it all.

before

XVII

Janie is laughing as she’s holding up their display. “Frankie has a spare in his room, I’ll hold it and you grab it.”

They’re building a solar system model with Henry and Asher, Jo hesitates and nods. Henry eyes her, but he’s holding three planets and Asher has Orion’s belt and Jo just sucks it up. Frankie isn’t here and he won’t know.

Hurrying, she runs up and opens the door, paling. It’s dark in here. He has blackout curtains and it smells sweaty. Everything looks purposely placed, and she wonders if that’s just paranoia or the truth. Taking a deep breath she goes to the dresser by the window, looking at everything. She’s scared to touch any of it, but Janie wouldn’t send her up here if there was any real danger.

They’re borrowing wire cutters for crying out loud!

Henry accidentally cut a thicker piece of wife and they broke in half. Surely they’d go to a hardware store and replace them if Frankie real was dangerous, she justifies to herself after another deep breath.

She’s so busy convincing herself she’s safe that she accidentally knocks a coffee canister to the floor. Cursing loudly, she drops to the floor and frantically begins picking things up. There’s normal shit like spare change and random lint, but then theres weird shit like rocks and when she reaches her hand beneath the dresser, she freezes. Pulling it out, it looks like one of the bracelets her and Janie used to be obsessed with making in elementary school. They had them as bracelets, necklaces, keychains, but Frankie doesn’t strike her as sentimental.

Looking at it, something feels wrong. It’s just a little kids bracelet, but why is it here? So along with the wire cutters, Jo leaves with the bracelet in the pocket of her denim jacket, her heart racing.

When she asks Janie after their done and Henry and Asher are outside playing, Janie doesn’t seem to recognize it. Jo says nothing more and when she leaves, the bracelet is still in her pocket.

She doesn’t know why this is important, but something isn’t right here. Frankie is not sentimental. That’s the only fact she has to go by. If Janie gave him a bracelet, he’d have thrown it out immediately back then, and the alarm bells wont stop ringing in her head.

By the time she gets home she’s covered in cold sweat. She’s afraid of what this means and when she shuts her bedroom door, she rushes to her bed and goes to the loose floorboard and takes out her box.

Jo’s small jewelry box didn’t really have things that are secret enough to warrant a loose floor board. Before, it was just to be cool and she showed Janie once. Now, the box hides letters from Caitlyn and this bracelet.

after

XVIII

She can’t believe she left him. She just can’t! Janie is laying in her dorm a week after she left and the guilt of what she’s done is drowning her.

Jo hasn’t visited her in awhile, but she can see the ‘I told you so’ face she’d wear so clearly in her mind and Janie swallows hard.

Janie tried to text him, but what could she even say to him? Nothing. That’s what. Literally nothing she can say will make up or fix what she’s done.

Curling into a ball, she decides to sleep and when she wakes she’ll call him. Even if she says nothing it’s better than what she’s done to him.

before

XVIIII

Frankie leans against the counter. At six feet, he’s an inch shorter than Nate, but unlike Nate, Frankie looms menacingly over Janie’s petite frame. She stiffens at his presence, but is pretending to focus on her task of chopping the vegetables in front of her.

When it’s obvious he’s not going to say anything until she does, she goes, “What’s up?” but doesn’t look at him.

He looks at her for another moment and then goes, “Did you go in my room?”

This makes her freeze.

She doesn’t know why, but the question was asked casually, and he knows he’s looking for an answer. If she lied, he’d know, and that makes the hairs on the back of her neck stand on edge.

“We borrowed your wire cutters. Dad’s broke. Why? Did I put them back in the wrong place?”

He won’t stop staring at her and she’s trembling slightly and can’t bring herself to cut anything. Then he just smirks at her, as if he pieced something together and leaves.

Janie watches his retreating form through the reflection in the kitchen window, but says nothing.

He’s just Frankie being Frankie. That’s where she forces herself to leave it at that, because everyone knows his room is off limits. No one knows why, but Janie tells herself she respects it. She hates when her mother snoops in her drawers, looking for signs that Nate is having sex with her, or something else his poorness does that’s so offensive.

Janie shakes her head and once she’s calm, she begins to go back to her task.

after

She stayed on campus. That was the decision as she sits in the empty mess hall with her bowl of cheerios the morning of Thanksgiving.

It’s empty on campus and she’s now physically alone to accompany her mentality.

Janie saw Eddy at her coffee shop earlier that week, before everyone but the foreign students who don’t have a reason to fly back home for a few days left. She invited him to sit and it was nice just to talk to someone from home. Someone who knew the her before Jo’s death and the one who knew her now. He seemed to understand that she was grieving and not like the girl he knew all those years at Hawkins High, but didn’t harp on it. He apologized for Jo’s death and they just talked.

He’s at a college in town and he gave her his number. It felt weird to have it in her phone. She knew Jo would want to prank call him, or something just as immature, but for some reason, Janie likes that she can rely on Eddy.

Eating her cheerios, she knows she’d be playing with her charm bracelet about now, but she took it off in September. It is laying beside Nate’s necklace she used to wear; the one with the ballet slippers that she adored. Even though Nate didn’t know her as a dancer, he understood why she stopped. She could tell him things like that and he’d just understand. But with Jo… Janie likes to think of Jo and Nate together, inside her jewelry box, tucked away safe from harm.

Henry used to talk about alternate timelines, and she knows that there is a version of her that has Jo and will marry Nate and have kids that Jo will be the godmother and cool aunt of, and Janie despises the version of herself that has that.

That girl doesn’t know grief like she does. She doesn’t know what it’s like to walk the world without a best friend. That girl isn’t alone.

But for now, she thinks about how she’s excited to see Eddy later and talk. He offered to stay in town with her, and they’re going to order take out and maybe watch a movie. Janie has good things here: her roommate, Eddy, her classes. For the first time in a long time, she feels normal. And maybe that’s just enough.

before

XXI

Jo is waiting in the abandoned mill for Janie. She usually comes here with Caitlyn, but she’s glad this is where Janie agreed to meet her. The barn and Jo’s house felt too dangerous, and she needs to tell Janie what she discovered.

It had been a far cry to make the connection, but she had seen Iris and Tally with Caitlyn a month after finding the bracelet and she just remembered something so random. It was inconsequential to hear her mother say “Poor Robert and Elizabeth, they were so young.”

Rose and Daisy Franklin were probably around Henry’s age when they went missing, maybe older - maybe Henry wasn’t born, she can’t even remember how old the girls were. Jo had been seven or eight when they died, she didn’t even understand what it meant to be abducted, but their story played for weeks on the news as she’d lay on her stomach and play with her Barbies in front of the TV, but she had this feeling…

Googling them, she went through the photos. Every missing persons photo she clawed through, but there it was. Zooming in on Daisy Franklin’s wrist, the four year old was wearing the same haphazardly made one Jo was holding and she’d vomited in the trash can beside her desk.

This was proof, but how much proof was it really? So Frankie had a bracelet that matched Daisy’s, but the proof was flimsy at best, but she needed to tell Janie. She needed to tell Janie’s parents!

When the door opens, Jo gets up and then freezes. It’s not Janie’s petite frame that’s shadowed by the moonlight and Jo’s blood goes cold.

He’s dark, but she recognizes the tall boy instantly and all he says to her is, “Hello Jo.” He says a few things to her when he cuts her, making the torture last a bit because no one will hear her out here, but the last thing she ever hears is those two bone chilling words.

Jo tried to fight him, but he was taller and stronger due to spending his whole life farming. He could’ve knocked her out, but for him it’d been a long time and he wanted to savor this kill, and when he dragged her out to the riverbed, he has with him her Bikini Kills button and the carousel charm.

now

XXIII

Caitlyn is looking pointedly at Janie’s wrist. Due to Tally’s comment about her and Jo, Janie doesn’t even question what the look is alluding to.

Her cheeks redden and she tugs down the sleeve of her sweater.

“If you supposedly loved Jo,” Tally says with a sneer, getting closer to Janie as she talks, “wouldn’t you want to know?”

Janie’s blood is searing her from the inside and she shoves Tally with a strength neither girl expected her to have. “Don’t you dare!” Janie seethes through clenched cheeks. “Neither of you know me, and you didn’t know Jo!”

Retrieving her basket from the floor of the Stop and Go general store she adds something equally un-Janie-ish. “Fuck you!” she’s looking right into Tally’s grey eyes. “I know I hurt Nate. I know you two are best friends and you’re a mean bitch regardless and just pretend not to care about what anyone thinks about you, but don’t you ever say I didn’t love Jo! If I knew what happened, U’d have said something a long time ago. I wish I knew, but I was with Nate and Asher at St Mary’s that night.”

She clenches her jaw and she’s biting back tears as she says, “She was like a sister to me. Sorry if it pisses you off that I’m not with Nate, but I lost my best friend and I couldn’t be here anymore!” She dropped the basket on the floor, and Caitlyn is mildly surprised that Janie didn’t throw it at them as she leaves.

Caitlyn’s cheeks are red from anger, but also pity as she watches Janie literally throw the door out of her way and cross her arms as she marches up the sidewalk of down town Hawkins. Tally, however, looks a bit stunned, but if anything, she’s contemplating something.

“So… what now?” Caitlyn asks.

Tally is quiet for a moment, then sighs. “I don’t know. I feel like the answer is so close, as if it’s obvious, but none of it makes sense. I just…” she shakes her head. “Let’s go back to the house and regroup with the others.”

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