Chapter 1: Neon Moon
Summary:
Sorry if Jayce & other male characters aren't fully flushed out (#meninfemaledominatedfields ?)
Chapter Text
The keys softly clatter onto the small table by the door. Lights flicker on, jacket's off, boots off. The sweet end of a night. Her cold thin mattress and oblivion only a few steps away. It takes many a drink, many a fight, many a sleepless night, many a burnout to reach that point. The point where exhaustion overwhelms every other thought, every emotion.
The phone buzzes in her back pocket.
"Caitlyn’s tagging along tomorrow,” Jayce writes.
Vi’s brows slightly furrow at the name. Her only memory of the night is a blur of faces and loud shitty music.
“Blue Hair?” she writes back, surprised that any one detail managed to stick throughout the night.
She only rechecks her phone when she’s finally made it to her bed, having showered and changed. Tomorrow, she will only vaguely remember having read and answered Jayce’s texts;
"Yup, do you mind?" No, she didn't mind.
Her life’s been shit lately. Hitting the gym, drinking, late nights with strangers, a fucked up sleeping schedule, and all the bad’old habits have been the only things keeping her afloat. She’s burned it all out. The anger, the fighting, the crying; exhausted every loud emotion, all that remains is guilt. And it’s slowly eating her alive.
She stares blankly at the wall opposite her bed, too numb to stop her alarm, her fingers yearning for the comfort of a cigarette. Empty coffee mugs, packs of cigarettes, an empty alcohol bottle, and ashtrays filled with cigarette butts sit on the floor by her bed, yet she decides she hasn’t yet hit that rock of a bottom to start her day with a puff.
She’s already jogged 3km from her flat when she reaches the meeting point with Jayce.
“Let’s go, pretty boy!” she says by way of greeting when she reaches him. The words empty, without any bite or humour. She continues to jog in place, her body refusing to stop.
“Hey Vi, remember Caitlyn,” only then does Vi notice the girl standing next to Jayce. Right. Caitlyn’s tagging along. She’s originally dismissed her as a passerby.
“Pleasure, Caitlyn.”
“We've already met,” says Caitlyn.
“Right,” this gets Vi to stop moving, “Sorry, I hope I wasn’t much of an ass yesterday, was kind of having a shitty day,” Vi vaguely wonders why is this the interaction that sobers her up, might be Caitlyn’s Posh-ass accent or the sea of blue eyes that have been fixed on her long before Vi noticed. Either way, Vi finds herself wanting to leave a good impression.
“Why were you having a bad day? What happened?”
Vi scoffs “Gee, didn’t know we were trauma-dumping on first encounters.”
"Second," Caitlyn corrects and Vi concedes.
Caitlyn keeps her eyes fixed on Vi. Curious, inquiring, Vi doesn’t have the energy to read further into them. Both Jayce and Caitlyn have their running outfits on and have been warming up by the looks of it. Vi shifts her gaze to Jayce who has a comical expression over his face.
“Let’s go?” she asks again, more tentative this time.
They follow their usual path. Caitlyn somehow always ending up beside Vi whenever they pass by a narrow passage leaving Jayce either behind or in front of them. Whenever that is, Caitlyn grills her with questions.
How long has she known Jayce? Some months now, maybe a year.
Was she familiar with this side of the city? Yes.
Did she like running? Yes, prefers boxing though.
How often did she go for a run? Whenever life calls for it. Also on Tuesdays and Fridays.
What did she do before joining the party yesterday? Nice try.
Got any siblings? Yes- short, clipped answer, no room for any follow-up questions.
She'd never seen tattoos like that before. "Checking me out?", “I’d have to be blind not to notice, they’re all over you.” This with a blush that is duly noted by Vi.
Jayce and Vi usually ran in silence. Not only does Caitlyn easily manage to keep up, she also keeps a constant flow of conversation going. The lean muscles on Caitlyn’s bare arms and her fit build do not escape Vi’s notice.
Before she knows it, Vi is asking questions back. She catches herself being actually interested in whatever Caitlyn has to say.
Jayce was a family friend, she’d known him since she was young.
No, she’d never been to these parts of the city.
She liked archery. This with the nonchalance of an experimented fella.
Only child . "Used to getting your way?", “Just curious”
No, she only went to the party yesterday because Jayce insisted.
Caitlyn starts tagging along more often and Vi actually looks forward to it, not even minding when Jayce cancels last minute. Vi didn’t hangout with Jayce that often to begin with. Started with drinks after the gym, evening runs, then invites to join him and his friends, which she rarely accepted, nothing consistent though. With Caitlyn tagging along, she says no less often.
She catches herself checking out Caitlyn on multiple occasions and prays to god the other girl remains unaware. They are too different. From different worlds. But it takes her mind off the shit dump that is her life. The girl is out of league, out of reach, not even a possibility probably. Which makes whatever going on harmless. She doesn’t address it, or name it, but lets herself fully indulge in it. The warm fuzzy feeling whenever the door opens revealing Cait. Quiet conversations on the edge of the group. The intimacy of an eye contact held across the table. Private smiles reserved for Vi’s attentive eyes. One side of an earphone pressed to her ear so she can listen to a favourite song. Close proximity. Tentative Hellos and tight goodbye hugs. That one time Cait joined their table and made a full turn to take the seat next to Vi, ignoring two empty seats easily accessible in her way.
Life slowly comes into focus. She stayed sober today. All day. because she’s meeting Jayce later therefore Cait, Cait’s always there now. Only had one cigarette, because she couldn’t stop thinking about her. Safe to say, she only thought about her harder with each drag. Smoke sweet and thick kept her company until every thought blurred into meaninglessness.
A random night, in a club she's never been to, celebrating something she barely remembers. She hardly reads Jayce's texts anymore, agrees as long as they fit within her schedule. She’s checked out of the conversation at some point, elbows resting on the low back of the seat, a large drink held precariously between her fingers; a numbness overcomes her senses as she watches Cait on the dance floor with unfocused eyes. Mel had grabbed her hand earlier and dragged her away from their boot. Cait is wearing a tight turtle-neck, a mini skirt softly falling against her thighs, and knee-high boots. Her top is only slightly cropped showing a silver of skin whenever she moves so and so. Vi follows her movements with her eyes. Lights flash in pretty lines; blue, green, pink, with a low cosy red from neon signs. The music loud and constant. Cait's arms crossed above her head, slowly moving down along her body. Elbows bent at the waist now, as she moves her shoulders with the beat. She swirls, a slight bounce to her steps. Her hair is down, smoothly sliding off her shoulders, accentuating her every move. Intermittently lost in the sea of hazy bodies— glittering bits and pieces in flashing hues of blue, green, pink, and cosy red.
Cait catches her staring. If Vi wasn't completely zoned out, she might've looked away. As it is, Vi only holds her gaze, detached, hardly reacting. Cait gives a small self-conscious smile, her movements faltering. She looks away for a second regaining her focus, tucks her hair behind her ear only to untuck it directly after, the sort of thing one does to hide a blush. Vi wouldn’t have noticed it anyway from this distance and with this lighting. When Cait looks back again, she holds Vi's gaze with a completely different intent. Months from now, when Vi looks back at this moment, she'll recognize the look for the blatant invite that it was. Now, Vi only stares back, too numb to look away. She fully zeros on Cait, everything else a blur. It seems to her that Cait might as well be doing the same. Dancing for Vi's attention only. After a while, Cait tilts her head to the side, an invite for Vi to join. Or maybe Vi imagines it. She joins anyway, placing her glass on the low table and making her way through the crowd.
Her hands hover near Cait's waist, uncertain, until Cait drops her arms over Vi's shoulders and leans closer to be heard over the music;
"Took your time!" with a small chuckle— tipsy, Vi realizes.
Her hands close around Cait's waist, gently. God, she's been wanting to do that since— ever. One arm fully wraps around Cait's waist, her other hand slightly resting on its side. Cait's arms close around Vi's neck. They sway together, a soft breath escaping her lips, eyes closing briefly with the delirium of the moment, the music suddenly doesn't sound so terrible. There is no one else, but them. Only too soon, Cait drops her arms away from Vi's shoulders, and Vi lets her go. Cait stays close though and they dance for the rest of the night.
The other end of the night, Vi feels drunk, 10 glasses deep, but her receipt only shows one glass of beer. They're at the door, and Vi's helping Cait with her scarf. Cait hiccups and smiles, and Vi might as well have drowned a whole new bottle of wine for how intoxicated that mere smile makes her feel. Being at the receiving end of it. Warm fuzzy feel and whatnot. Jayce's waiting outside to drop Cait home. She has to say goodbye.
At her place, the ceiling fan slowly spins, a small joint between her fingers, Vi doesn't even attempt to sleep.
“That’s mine,” Cait is holding Vi's jacket which she has thrown over a couch, and is about to put it away. The entry hall is empty, echoes of conversations and music filter down from the first floor. Vi reaches for her jacket and heads for the door.
“You’re leaving?”
“Going out for a cigarette.”
“Mind if I join?”
“You don’t smoke.”
A shrug.
Vi leans against the wall near the entrance to the Venue Jayce rented for his celebration. He has been granted funding and permission to do his research and now has a whole department in the academy to run with his research partner. Cait stands next to her.
“Tired of socializing?”
“Trying to escape my parents, actually.”
“What’s going on there by the way?” Vi asks, taking a drag off her cigarette and flicking the ashes to the side; careful to blow the smoke out away from Cait.
Cait has her hands behind her back, leaning lower on the wall making her almost shorter than Vi. She rocks slightly, considering.
“Not the best situation I guess.”
“Yeah, no shit,” Vi says huffing a laugh.
“They just want me to be someone I’m not. What I hate the most is that I get it. I get where they’re coming from. I just wish they’d stop and let me be. I hate how no matter how hard I try to distance myself from what they want, from their— heritage, they’re always pulling strings. Always interfering.”
Vi nods, “Are you, doing what you want now?”
Cait shrugs with a sigh, “I guess. I’m trying to make it my own anyways, we’ll see how long that lasts.”
“You’ll be alright, cupcake,” Cait lets out a slight, annoyed laugh at that.
“Would you stop with that? it’s Caitlyn.”
A small smile is tugging at Vi’s lips as she studies the small cigarette between her chilled fingers. She barely remembers how this whole cupcake thing came to be, but it’s their little thing now. Cait only complains about it half-heartedly now and then.
Cait rests her head against Vi's shoulder, and they stay in companionable silence for a bit. Cait does that, inconsequential little physical touches, here and there, nothing to blink at or make a deal out of, it almost feels natural, as if she never even notices she is doing it. if only Vi’s heart didn’t do a little jump each time. If only she didn’t make a deal out of it.
Pressed to her side, Cait’s hand brushes against Vi’s at some point, and Vi’s hand swiftly wraps around it, fully englobing it. They don’t acknowledge it though. Inconsequential touches and whatnot.
Vi distantly recalls countless nights, outside bars and clubs, a cigarette, and random strangers for company, and wonders why the silence has never held more comfort, the night never felt gentler, and the smoke in her lungs never warmer, than they did right now.
“God, I need to get wasted.”
A breathless laugh, Vi looks sideways and down at Cait “Why don’t you?”
“Parents inside.”
“We can go somewhere else," says Vi, then adds "If you're ok with company.”
“You’ll have to haul me out afterwards,”
“You got it.”
*
After her second drink, Cait sighs.
“I should stop, I’ll need to get home somehow.”
Leaning back in her chair, legs planted apart, Vi shrugs.
“You're good, I got you” Vi hesitates at the trust implied by what she said, not sure they’re there yet. But that seems to do it for Cait and she orders her third.
They stopped at the closest bar they found; cosy lighting, soft music, and just about enough clients for a low chatter in the background. Cait is leaning in, elbows resting on the table. Vi's legs are almost reaching Cait's side. She is vaguely aware that if she moves her legs just so they'll brush against Cait’s. She could almost feel the ghost of Cait's legs, poised neatly, one leg over the other.
“All my life, I have doubted everything I did. I had to prove to myself that I’m not just my privilege. To everyone. I had to go out of my way, every single time,” this punctuated by two hand motions for emphasis, “And they just don’t seem to care. They just flaunt it around, keep shoving it down my throat.”
“Why don’t you want their help?”
“Because it’s not fair! Why do I get to have it? I need to know that there is more to me than that. Plus it never comes for free, I always have to do what they want. Be who they want.”
“And talking to them doesn’t help?”
A groan, “Maybe for a total of two days if not couple of hours.”
Caitlyn drunk is such a sight. She vents and Vi listens.
They are worlds apart, their problems. Cait is rich, old- old generational wealth. A whole world of privilege she comes from. However, though grateful, Cait seems fully aware of her privilege, burdened by it even, but namely sees it as a responsibility. No snide comment made by their company seems to escape her, and she never shies away from addressing it even if it ruins the mood. This saves Vi from having to roll her eyes or overthink it later, knowing that Cait is always there to call them out. And the thing is, it doesn’t feel performative. Everyone wants to defend the less privileged, be the saviour, looks nice to be politically correct, only slightly controversial for intrigue but never beyond comfort, ‘not part of the matrix’, the occasional political conversation to hit the ‘talk about things that matter’ mark, but all within nicely etched limits that never criticise the system, that always justify the wealth. Admittedly, she’s yet to see Cait under duress, to what extent would she keep her stance, but at least for now, Vi has the comfort of knowing that Cait shares her stance and opinions, the difference remains mainly superficial. For even though her mind is free and rebel, there are small tells everywhere if one cares to look. The way Cait holds herself, the way she speaks. Childhood stories and experiences. Small mannerisms that scream wealth.
When Cait’s words start to blur and mix with each other, making no sense anymore, Vi asks for the tab.
“Alright, off we go.”
Cait protests a bit, “Oh. Stay ‘bit more with me,” Vi winces at the choice of words, and the way Cait says them.
“We’ve got a long way to your house, you’ll get plenty of me.”
Vi pays then walks Cait out. At the entrance, she helps Cait with her coat and scarf, then she shrugs on her own bomber jacket mentally preparing for the cold outside. Cait is leaning against the wall, staring at her, cheeks flushed with alcohol. Vi drowns— downs every time she's met with that stare. For a moment she dumbly stands there, fully soaked in Cait’s attention. Cait’s gaze, then travels down Vi’s face, resting somewhere near her mouth. Cait takes an unsteady step closer, leans in almost as if going for Vi’s lips. Vi turns her head away missing Cait’s touch by a hair. She swallows. Cait’s lips brushing against her jaw before her head lands on Vi’s shoulder.
She wraps an arm around her to steady her.
“Let's get you home.”
At Cait's house, Vi waits outside until the light in Cait's room comes on. She only leaves when it's turned back off.
“Have you heard from Cait? She was a bit wasted yesterday, I had to walk her home.”
“Yeah she’s alright, she says thanks.”
Vi’s too worried to wait for their next hangout to check on Cait, and has no direct means of reaching her. Maybe she should ask for her phone number (she never gets around to it).
Vi is different from everyone else. To Caitlyn that is. Not that Caitlyn thinks all people are the same or fits them in one stereotypical box. More like, she experiences them the same way. She’s sure every person she’s ever encountered has their own psyche, are their own complex person, with their own thoughts and opinions and interests. Much intriguing she is sure. Just not to her. It’s the same watered-down tea bags that are supposed to be different flavours but all she ends up tasting is water. Vi, however. Vi captures her attention, makes her feel and react in ways she isn’t familiar with. As if everyone else elicits the same constant mix of feelings, detached she experiences them and reacts appropriately. Then there is Vi. A spike in the graph. A whole new set of feelings.
She stares at her hand, extended on the kitchen island in front of her, cheek pressed against the cold marble. She wonders if she might have a crush on Vi. If that’s what’s the feeling called. She hopes it never passes. She likes it. She likes how Vi makes her feel. Heart skipping. Warmth in her cheeks. The anticipation every time she joins a hangout. Jayce doesn’t tell her whether Vi is joining or not “Come and find out”, he figured out that that's the only reason she started to join, “You need to have a social life”, he insists. He might be right. The company isn’t always bad. Even when Vi isn’t there, after her initial disappointment, Caitlyn eventually manages to enjoy the outing. Or maybe that is just a by-product of her crush. Thoughts of Vi and whatnot.
They’re having a family dinner. Jayce comes at some point. Her mum at another. She’s zoned out. Not even the best of her hyper-fixations got her feeling this way.
Vi can feel the singular sweat drop trickling down her temple mingling with all the grease smeared across her face. She's leaning over the stubborn crankshaft, her arms straining with effort. She's in the lower levels of their mechanical workshop where they store all the heavy engines. This one has been acting up for a while now. It’s one of their biggest engines, occupying most of the space on this level. It’s the main power supply of most of the neighbourhood businesses and two nearby manufactures. Vi decides that today is the day it shall be fixed. In truth, she needs the physical distraction, anything else that might require her sitting idly would drive her mad.
"Is the hottie his girlfriend?" Sev asks and Vi rolls her eyes.
Jayce usually stops by the workshop for custom pieces "You have to come and talk to Claggor, I only do the manual shit," she says whenever he tries to describe what he needs. Today he stopped by with Cait in tow, each holding a large box filled with random items. Whatever he needed this time seemed to be complex enough that both he and Claggor were leaning over Jayce's notebook which detailed the different models and their designs, and quickly got into a heated conversation. Having waved her hellos, Vi stood in the brightly lit top level of the garage in her greased up white tank top and cargo pants filling her coffee mug. Black, unsweetened. Second cup of the day, maybe fourth, when Cait walked over with a sweet "Hello".
“I get personal visits now?” said Vi turning to face her, with a half smile and one eyebrow raised teasingly. Cait softly chuckled, the sound preciously tucked away in Vi’s heart.
“A token of thanks. For all the attention you paid me yesterday,” Cait said proudly, chin up.
Vi was at Jayce’s yesterday to catch a game and get drunk on cheap beer, Cait had joined later not knowing Vi was there. She had her laptop with her and soon was explaining to Vi a cipher she was trying to break. She’s learned about a sort of Cybersecurity attack from some classified files— did not disclose her methods, and was trying to reverse engineer it. For fun. Cait sat on the floor legs folded demonstrating on her laptop while Vi sat on the couch and watched over Cait’s shoulder. Cait looked over her shoulder from time to time while explaining, Vi had her lower lip between her teeth and was nodding, trying to follow but distracted by Cait. How excited she sounded. Hair nicely tucked behind an ear. Different hand gestures punctuating every thought. The sweet tooth gap when she talked. How easy it would be to place a hand on her shoulder, up the side of her neck, etc.
She mostly managed to follow and had a general idea of what Cait was trying to do. At some point a sad thought crossed her mind unbidden Powder would’ve loved listening to all this, she had thought grimly.
They didn't stay long at the workshop, Claggor concluding that he might need to visit Jayce in his lab to have a better look at the rest of the components. Since they left, her thoughts have been mingled, thus her escaping to the lower levels. The constant hem of the engines, the loud tools, the heat and thick acrid tang of oil and metal in the air almost enough to drown her thoughts.
"No, just a friend," she answers now. With a heavy wrench clutched in both hands, she applies force to the rusted bolt. It groans in protest with each turn finally falling in place with a loud crank.
It’s been weeks since their last hangout. Vi sees Jayce regularly at the Gym and for their usual runs but Cait hasn’t joined them for a run in a while, preparing for some sort of exam, Jayce explained. She fantasises about running into her whenever she’s walking around going about her day, but that never happens, they live in different and separate parts of the city. She thinks about her though, constantly.
“Where’s your mind at?” Mylo says. She blows the smoke out and taps her cigarette against the ashtray.
“Around,”
“I’m just glad to see you not drowning at the bottom of a mug.” Her legs are already stretched out beneath the table and she teasingly kicks his leg for that.
8:11am, they’re at their usual coffee spot, Vi before her 9am shift, Mylo after finishing his night shift.
“Anyone’s pitching in tonight?” Vi asks. Besides their 9-5, they usually pitch in to help Mylo at The Last Drop. Especially on Fridays and the weekends when it gets crowded.
“Think Claggor’s finishing early at the garage, he’ll be joining.” She nods.
“Heard anything from Powder?” he asks. A grim shake of head. Any humour or life is instantly sucked out of her.
Vi flexes her hand in front of her, blinking at the bloody knuckles. She’s forgotten about them. About her fight earlier. For her face, she’d stuck some band-aids on and called it a day, but her hands were already wrapped in bandages before the fight. Cait's alarmed look reminds her. She only came to help Jayce out in his lab, not at all expecting Cait to be there.
“Let me look at that.”
At the sink, a first aid package lying open, Cait unwraps her knuckles and examines them. She doesn't say much, her cheeks flushed red, perhaps with anger.
“You should’ve seen the other guy,” Vi attempts at humour.
Usually, it’s Cait who grills her for details but she hasn't asked anything yet. Vi has to offer up the information herself against all norms.
“I’m alright, cupcake,” this softer.
“I don't get it, why would you put yourself in such a situation?” her voice is strained with concealed anger. Vi sighs. Different worlds. She fights the urge to snap back.
“Complicated.” Cait looks up at that.
“You can’t solve all your problems by punching someone.”
“You’d be surprised.”
Cait starts to protest but Vi beats her to it,
“Drop it, Cait,” she says pleadingly.
Cait works silently on her hand.
"Already did those," Vi says when Cait reaches for her face, but Cait ignores her and redresses the cuts on her face and neck anyway. Vi silently watches.
“They got your piercing too.”
“Yeah?” Vi says distractedly, she is leaning against the countertop and the distance between them has shrunk at some point, Cait is close, practically between her legs. She reaches for Vi’s ear and unfastens the earring. She disinfects the area and puts a band-aid there, then cleans and disinfects the piercing as well before reaching for Vi’s hand, turning it palm up and dropping the earring there. Cait’s left hand is now gently resting on Vi’s thigh. Vi is looking down at her hand, before pocketing the earring. When she looks up, she’s met with Cait's soft but scrutinizing eyes. Her eyes flutter from the intensity of that look. The absolute strength it takes to hold Cait's gaze. Their hands find each other again and Vi’s thumb brushes idly over Cait’s inner wrist. Distant chatter drifts in from a different room, a sink splattered with a bloody cloth, and words, too heavy to be spoken, hang thickly in the air.
“What did this man do?”
Vi considers diverting but the warmth of Cait’s hand, of her gaze, her mere presence have her admitting quietly,
“Hurt my sister.”
“What did your parents say about it?” Vi almost laughs, surprised at how little Cait knows. She never even considered how clueless Cait is in regard to her life. She doesn't blame her, she hardly ever talks about it. She almost never had to, everyone in her life close enough to ask questions, usually already knows.
“I don’t have parents, Cait. They died when I was young.” This seems to absolutely shatter Cait, her eyes widen, she blinks a couple of times. Vi almost feels guilty for dropping it on her like that.
“I didn’t know, I’m so sorry,” she stutters out.
“Hey, no, it’s okay cupcake. That was a long time ago,” she says, gently and briefly rubbing Cait's arm for comfort. The irony of having to comfort Cait on her own parents’ death isn't lost on her, but the girl looked on the verge of tears. Cait presses her eyes shut,
“I can’t believe this whole time, you'd let me talk about my shitty problems-”
“Hey, now, just because your problems are different doesn’t mean they’re unimportant”
“Yes, they are! “
“Cait, it’s alright.” Vi presses her free hand to Cait's cheek, and Cait leans into it, bringing her own hand up to cover it. Cait looks at her, brows furrowed. Vi swallows, jaw tightening. She pulls her slightly clos-
Her phone rings startling them both. The tension breaking like a string pulled taut finally snapping. Her heart sinks when she sees the caller ID. She picks up the phone, knowing exactly what will be said.
‘Yes’, ‘I’m coming,’ are her clipped replies.
“Sorry, I have to run.”
Chapter 2: Apocalypse
Summary:
Source: Euphoria?
Chapter Text
She drives every day. An hour to the rehab centre. She takes a month off her work at the garage, no explanation needed, they all understand. She hates that she has to send her to a centre, but for the life of her, Vi doesn't know how else to handle this, too terrified to screw it up even more.
“It’s me, PowPow.”
Today is a calm day. Curled in her chair, Powder only looks through a curtain of light blue hair at her sister, unseeing.
“Feeling better?” She won’t answer, Vi knows. But at least the screaming stopped. The anger, the crying, the pain, the lashouts, the guilt trips. She’d take the silent treatment any day.
She spends all her days at the centre, the staff don't mind, “Will never say no to an extra hand”. She assists to different sessions, reads to her during her free time, holds her through her treatment, her crying, the whimpering, the shaking, cold sweats, and fevers. Always close. And when Powder is asleep or in a session that Vi has to sit out, Vi sticks around, helps when she can. The staff know her. If she arrives too early in the morning, she has her coffee in the cafeteria with some of the night shift workers.
After one month, the withdrawal symptoms lessen, Powder is more stable. The physical pain almost gone, the emotional toll, heavy, lingers. Vi resumes her work part-time at the garage. Still commuting every day. Cries herself to sleep, all the tears that she can't shed during the day. After two months, Powder is friendly with some of the staff and patients, still a ghost of herself though. Even when it looks like she is doing much better, Vi knows it will take much more to fill the void. To keep her from going back. Simply keeping her away from drugs is but a temporary fix. Nothing terrifies her more than her sister relapsing. Every day she holds her breath. It feels like she’s been holding her breath for so long now.
*
Powder doesn't completely hate her now. She held her hand when Vi was walking her back to her room, and Vi almost got to her knees and wept. Powder is numb though, spent. Vi knows that feeling all too well.
Weeks pass. Vi finally sees an ad for a program at the academy. Some shit experimental work. Powder would love it.
She talks her into it. She should prepare something and apply.
“Right. Because the paper cups here and paper knives and paper air can amount to anything,” is Powder’s sarcastic reply.
“I can see if they’ll let you out for a while,”
In truth, Powder was okayed to leave some weeks ago. When told, Vi could only think of a possible relapse. She asked for extra weeks, just to figure things out. They didn’t mind as long as she paid.
»»————- xoxo ————-««
“I don’t need babysitting.”
“I’m not babysitting, I’m keep you company,” Vi says as she pulls her punching bag, far enough, but within eyesight, from where Powder was working in the garage -- way past their closing hours. She scrolls on her phone until she finds one of Powder’s playlists and clicks on it. Music blasts through the speakers.
Powder pushes up her goggles to the top of her head and looks over her shoulder at Vi.
“Since when you’ve got taste?”
Huffing, “I don’t. That’s your playlist,” Vi says and starts punching the bag at a slow pace.
“You’ve been through my phone?”
“No, I just found you on Spotify,”
“You follow me on Spotify? Who follows people on Spotify!” she exclaims. Vi only winks and focuses on her punching bag; the funky music and the loud tools Powder is putting to use keeping her company.
»»————- xoxo ————-««
The bar is loud, the terrace packed, and more people stand around at the entrance. She’s talked herself into this, and she doesn't even care to pretend it was for any reason other than the very person standing inside, in a hidden corner near the back, kissing another girl. Whelp, at least she’s into girls, Vi thinks as she makes her way out, her presence lasting a total of 2 minutes.
Back outside, the cigarette slightly shakes between her fingers as she brings it to her lips. She takes a long drag before exhaling the smoke out then presses her thumb to the corner of her eye, suddenly needing to punch something.
“You made it!” Jayce says near the door wearing a stupid grin.
“Yeah, sorry, I can’t stay though!”
“No, I haven’t seen you in months! You just disappeared”
“Yeah, sorry about that, shit happened, it’s all good now, I'll see you in the gym!”
She tries to shrug off his hands and continue on her way.
“Alright, I'll see you around. Text me!”
“I will!”
»»————- xoxo ————-««
At their usual coffee shop, Vi is sitting with both hands tucked in the pockets of her slightly oversized bomber jacket. She's got her hat on, her comfy sweatpants and is basically sinking in her chair. Opposite, Powder sits with both feet on her chair, legs tucked close to her chest, and is trying with Ekko to explain their recent research work. Vi has long since checked out of the conversation and it became more of a discussion between the two of them than anything to do with her. Powder has her notebook open on the table and Ekko is leaning over to look, one arm slung over the back of Powder’s chair. The notebook has equal parts math equations and random doodles. In fact, Ekko is well on his way now distractedly doodling something on the edge while Powder points all over the page.
They are sitting on the terrace, their usual spot, and the cold starts to creep in; Vi only has a tank top under her jacket. She could use a cigarette right now but she doesn't smoke in front of Powder, nor does she drink or return home anywhere near drunk.
Powder has gotten so much better, something seems to be anchoring her. It took a long time for Vi to relax, to finally be able to let her out of her sight, it does help that Ekko comes around often. He and Powder worked out whatever animosity was between them. Vi is forever grateful for him, he's pretty much one of the few people she trusts Powder with. She, herself, is only slowly learning what triggers what in her sister and wouldn’t trust anyone else to deescalate and soothe her. Powder’s getting so much better at handling these situations herself, though.
They both got the position at the academy, Ekko in a more orthodox way than Powder as he was already interning there. They’re practically partners, or at least they seem so to Vi, she doesn’t keep track of the logistics, something about different programs, same supervisor, possible collaborations. They seem to like their supervisor well enough because he lets them experiment with whatever shit they want. "You should see the shit Victor pulls," whenever they’re blowing shit up in the garage. They usually hang out there whenever they're not at the lab, using all their tools and engines.
Jayce visits the workshop at times too. She'd seen him yesterday, they resumed their evening runs. She's yet to run into Cait since the other day.
“The Barista has a crush on you,” Powder says every time they come to the coffee shop, and Vi rolls her eyes each time. She’s friendly with the staff here since she comes often. They’re all a bunch of cool people with eccentric styles that she likes just well enough. Powder is right though, Dia did ask for her phone number a while ago, Vi was in such a dark and low place back then, she wouldn't have seen anyone. She politely declined and Dia seemed to take it well. Not that she would tell Powder that.
“You need to get a life.”
“I do have one, thank you very much. I’m not the one spending all my days in a lab.”
She slings her backpack over a shoulder and stands up to leave
“Ok I gotta go, do you need me to drop you off?” Ekko checks his watch, a quarter to 9 am.
“No we’re good, we’ve still got some time,” he says probably wanting to finish their argument first.
she kisses the top of Powder’s head and bumps fists with Ekko.
“See you later, kids, don’t burn anything up”.
»»————- xoxo ————-««
Powder sits outside the tub, legs folded beneath her and head tilted back against the edge of the tub. Light blue hair flows in the tub water as Vi lathers the shampoo on the top of her head, messages it in, then grabs the shower head to rinse.
“They’re still not working and test trials take like a week,” Powder is giving her the not so brief compte-rendu of the day. It’s become their ritual. It started after rehab, when Powder was too weak, too numb to wash her hair herself or do anything really, and Vi did it for her, then it just stuck. Gave them a moment to chill and chat.
Vi hates drying the hair though, she always ends up hot and bothered by all the hair. Only helps start the braids from behind so that they don’t end up askew then pushes the hair over Powder’s shoulder for her to finish.
“You’re not going on your run today?”
“Not feeling it,” They both know the real reason though. Ekko’s not free tonight. The constant company doesn't seem to bother Powder, Vi thinks she might actually enjoy it, but she can see the guilt creeping in from time to time. In all truth, it never bothered Vi nor does it seem to bother Ekko. If anything Vi needs it, the reassurance that her sister is ok.
Powder works on her assignment laying on the carpet with hellish music blasting. Vi cooks, and they even manage to catch a movie while eating and actually finishing it.
“I really wish you’d get a life though.”
“I have more of a life than you, PowPow,” sitting on the couch, Powder’s legs folded beneath her and Vi s arm slung over her shoulders, she squeezes Powder’s arm.
“Seriously, if anything, it’s more orderly now.”
She kisses the top of her head then presses her cheek to it.
Dbhd (Guest) on Chapter 2 Thu 09 Jan 2025 05:49PM UTC
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lassus on Chapter 2 Mon 20 Jan 2025 01:33PM UTC
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PORO_cITVI on Chapter 2 Tue 25 Mar 2025 04:56AM UTC
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onlyhopelesslyunromantic on Chapter 2 Wed 09 Apr 2025 01:17AM UTC
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