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Hollyquin
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A friendly clown welcomes you to LOCAH. It seems he would like to be your guide.
[ *  *  *  *  * ]
"Let's go."

He was holding out his hand. Well, that was easy. Not that she'd really expected him to need convincing...well, he might, considering he was the pragmatic type who might be like no, bad idea, we can't leave Ema alone, we can't leave our weapons behind, this is dangerous, but she somewhat doubted it. Kyle was, at the end of the day, a boy. A virgin, she was pretty sure. And this was one of the few constant truths of the world that Hayley could cling to: no boy wanted to die a virgin.

This is it, Hayley. Now or never. Fuck this boy or die a virgin. ...Wait, no, that's not how that works. Fuck this boy or die a person who hasn't had sex in like, several months. Yeah, those are the words I was looking for.

Of course, she'd already made up her mind.

She took that hand, and led the boy into the trees.

I might live to regret this.

...But probably not.


---

She dragged him along for...a while. Well, drag probably wasn't the right word, given that it indicated a certain level of unwillingness from the other party, and Kyle seemed more than willing to follow Hayley's lead. She didn't have a destination in mind- like there's anywhere to go in this forest, anyway. But she needed to maintain a delicate balance- close enough to Ema that they could get to her in time in case of an attack, and far enough away that she wouldn't...cough...overhear.

She overshot that distance on purpose, just a little, just in case. I mean, she has all the weapons. We wouldn't be much help as we are right- shit, she DOES have all the weapons! Fuck, fuck, totally forgot about Vera, fucking shit- not that she had much to do with a gun right now, of course, all things considered. They were totally banking on them being alone and safe in this forest right now- even if she did have her gun on her, if they were attacked she'd probably be dead before she could pick it back up. That thought was weirdly comforting. If I die, I'll die happy, dammit. At least I don't have to worry about Ema.

I don't want to worry about Ema right now. I don't want to worry about anything. Fuck it. This is my moment.

Kind of pathetic, how this of all things is your moment.

No one is asking for your opinion, psycho-brain-voice.


Hayley came to a sudden stop in a nondescript clearing, and pushed the boy (not too hard, she was going to be REALLY pissed at herself if she gave her boyfriend an accidental concussion at this particular juncture) against a tree, her palms pressed against his chest. For a long moment, she just looked at him. Blue eyes caught by golden ones. The moment dragged. She didn't blink, or swallow, or speak, and then, then Hayley buried her face into his chest, threw her arms around him. She felt his arms, strong arms, comforting, close around her as she pulled herself as close to him as it was possible to be.

What am I doing?

Something pricked at her eye. It felt suspiciously like a tear, and that was not okay. That was not okay at all.

Fuck...


She pressed her head against Kyle. Shaking. She was shaking.





Why was she shaking?



This is so pointless. This is such BULLSHIT. Didn't Johnny tell you, emotions only get in the way of life?



Here she was, on Survival of the Fittest. Seventeen years old. Her birthday would be in about a month- she would be, would've been, eighteen. Old enough to buy porn and cigarettes, old enough to be really an adult. She'd been accepted to her first choice college, given a decent amount of financial aid, gotten into the game design program she'd wanted. She'd had so many ideas, so many ideas, so much shit she'd never get to show the world, never get to show anyone since she'd never bothered to write it down, it was all beautifully designed and written and made in her brain which was destined to end up blown out in the next few days.



She had a best friend, his name was Johnny De Luca and he was the most important person in the universe because he was her, her twin, her soulmate, her everything. He was at home, probably watching her, probably watching this. He was probably not taking his own advice and was probably crying his eyes out because his twin, his soulmate, his everything was going to die. On TV. They'd both promised each other years before that neither would let themselves live long without the other. So that was another beautiful thing Danya was erasing from the world.



She had a family. She had parents, and a little brother who needed her and loved her very, very much. She had aunts and uncles and cousins- tons of them. She'd promised her cousin Lily she'd tell her all about her new boyfriend. And she was probably watching too.



She was in love. She didn't even know who with, anymore. One of these people she was with right now.


One of them. Both of them. One of them.




She cried, silently, into his chest. Heaving silent, heavy sobs, she cried not for her friends, or for her family, or for the boy or girl she may or may not love. She cried for herself, because she didn't know if anyone else was going to. Not now or ever. She cried for the life Danya was throwing away. Her life. There was so much left to it, dammit! There was so much she had left to do. She'd never even left the goddamn country. Never seen the world. She'd promised Johnny, they'd backpack across Europe like the badass motherfuckers they were, but no, too late for that now. Too late for anything.

Too late. Too late for love, especially. Too goddamn late.






and you know the funniest part? you know who else had a family? friends? a future?


you want to remember their names, hayley? go on. remember.







No.



She wiped the last tear from her eye before she looked back up at Kyle. She hoped he'd have mistaken her silence, her shaking for anything other than what it was. God, she was pathetic.


No. Fuck it. Fuck this. I can't think about it, and I'm NOT thinking about them. I refuse. Where the fuck will that leave me?


Fuck it. Fuck ALL of it. Fuck everything. Let me forget this for a little while. Let me pretend.


Fake happiness for long enough and it becomes real.

Just like something else I could mention.

Shut up.







Hayley shrugged her jacket off. In one smooth motion, she pulled her shirt up and over her head, dropped that to the floor as well. Her lips attached themselves to his.





Let me stop thinking. Just, for now.
being meguca is suffering

[V5] ALIVE:
[x] Aidan Flynn [B???] // Passing slowly though the vector, damp with fog, the bog that grows the former business sector...
[x] Chitose Saionji [G???] // 公園に千歳は本を読む!

[V5] CONCEPTS:
Winston Evans aced the last English test and would like to point out how gorgeous your shoes are.

Those Who've Known - V4
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