Czeslaw Milosz, New And Collected Poems: 1931-2001

FROM  YOUTH  VIKRAM  HAS  always  had  a  knack  for  sneaking.  a  light  step  paired  with  a  preference  for  skulking  in  the  background  made  it  easy  to  go  unnoticed.  still,  it  was  rarely  his  intention  to  scare  anyone  so  as  he  approaches  mina  he  makes  the  attempt  to  announce  his  arrival  with  a  cordial  “good  evening”  .  .  .  only  to  startle  her  regardless.  of  course  she  would  be.  there's  a  goddamn  murderer  on  the  loose.  “oh!  no,  i  wouldn't  dream  of  bugging  you  about  my  computer  problems  outside  of  business  hours  ──  sorry."  he  offers  a  faint,  awkward  smile.  “i  didn't  mean  to  spook you.  i  just  came  to  uh,  look  at  the  scenery.  it's  nice,  isn't  it?”  when  there  isn't  body  being  fished  out  of  the  lake,  that  is.

♡ 𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐃𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐘 ─── starter for anyone / open. ♡ 𝐋𝐎𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 ─── near deer lake clubhouse. ♡ 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄 ─── around sunset time.

a deep inhale and smoke fills her lungs, nothing in particular on her mind; exactly the way she likes it. she does realize it's maybe not the best idea to stand all alone, with the light of the sun going away, when there's a killer on the loose but... what else is there for her to do? stay cooped up at home while her parents attempt to poke at her psyche? oh no, she's choosing the faster way out instead.

at least that's what she thought until a sound suddenly startled her and made her look back. a hand coming to rest on her chest ─── willing her heart to calm down ─── as she zeroes in on the approaching figure. " can i help you? "

“god, took you long enough! wait... what are you supposed to be?” they take a moment to do a quick look over, assessing his attire with open amusement before getting down to business. “anyway —" attention is shifted to their phone, a wall of text displayed on screen. “i already requested an official statement from the police on behalf of the register but nothing yet. my guy at the department is being real stingy with the details too — makes me think it’s definitely something bigger. like someone important…” has anyone seen the mayor? “… or foul play. got some guys on record saying that norwood street was closed via police tape a few hours ago. they must have found the body there.” they gasp, look up to meet ricardo's eyes with a sudden realization. “do you think it’s that estrada girl that went missing a while ago ?” then… a smile. it’s brief and easy to miss under the moonlight but it’s there and it’s hungry.  a subtle way of matching his sentiment about the attention it would bring this small town, to them. “i'll have something at your desk by five. i just... i need coffee or water or something. gonna go to redstone and see who i can interview there.” they aren’t drunk by any means but now that the adrenaline of the party and the news was beginning to subside, they could feel their body begging to crash. “don’t be an incel and make me walk there alone in the dark. think there might be a murderer out on the loose.” OoOOOOooooO

○    NOW DELIVERING TO . . .    ⏤ @brntout !

location :  lurking thru da streets

time:  1 : 54 am

as soon as ricardo makes out the familiar shape , he's moving swiftly towards them . " HEY ! " he calls out , completely ignoring the fact that some people might be on edge or jumpy with the news that's currently out there . but , he doubts that KENNEDY is included in that bunch . she blurs the line between typical in a way that ricardo has begrudging respect towards . ricardo falls into line beside them . " what have you heard and how quickly can you get a story up by - " ricardo twists his wrist to look at his cartier watch " by 6am ? we'll be pushing first print , but it'll get us some attention in this forsaken , weird , boring - as - shit town finally . " and with attention comes MONEY .

"yeah, believe it or not this is about half of it. at this rate i'm going to have to start eating reeses pieces for breakfast." so he's grateful when nathan is kind enough to relieve him of his burden that is too much halloween candy. "thank you, mayor. you're saving me from some hefty dentist bills." vikram poses a la standing emoji as nathan looks him over, unsure of what to do with his hands now that the bucket of candy has been taken. "that's nice. i'm not big into musicals either. i just really like this one. i've never uh, seen it live though." but he wants to. someday. " the music's great. think you still remember the lyrics? should i suggest karaoke for the next council meeting?" he asks, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

“  oh,  please,  you're  too  kind.  i  feel  like  i  might  have  more  than  enough,  even  if  halloween  lasted  a  whole  week!  ”  nathan  kids,  but  he  accepts  vikram's  offer  anyway,  because  of  course  the  mayor  would  have  too  much  candy  to  hand  out;  it's  why  everybody  stops  by  every  year.  there's  a  glint  of  recognition  in  his  eyes  when  he  puts  the  mask  on,  a  small  ahh  escaping  his  lips  as  he  nods.  “  i  wouldn't  say  i'm  an  avid  watcher  of  musicals,  but  i  have  seen  my  fair  share  of  them  —  it  was  my  mother  who  loved  them,  ”  he  shares.  “  and  she  did  take  me  to  see  the  phantom  of  the  opera  in  broadway  all  those  years  ago.  i  vividly  remember  having  the  songs  stuck  in  my  head  for  weeks  after  that.  ”

 impatience oozes off him like expensive cologne. patchouli, sandalwood, and financial privilege all wrapped up in a smug, pearly-white grin. they’ve only known each other for a handful of months but kennedy deduces this might be where their professional differences lie. ricardo is a master at gliding his vibe meter between ball busting and indifference,. they got the impression that to him, results matter more than details ( or means? ) . kennedy on the other hand? is meticulous, incessant in their need to look at every angle, to leaving no stone unturned in pursuit for a good story the truth.  but they can play the game. have been around enough white collar honchos to learn the fine art of capitalizing. they lean in, lowering their voice to what could almost be a whisper but it's too sharp to fully make the cut. “it makes sense, doesn’t it? with her disappearance still fresh on everyone’s mind, it’s only natural for people to wonder if she has finally been found.” kennedy won’t confirm nor deny if they had a part in planting or spreading that seed but know if they had — they would have covered their tracks. “i say we throw that on there if the body isn’t identified by the time the paper hits.”  it doesn’t have to be right. they can word it so it sounds like they’re simply reporting on what the masses are fearing. if anything, it’ll add to the mystery of daniela’s disappearance if the body isn’t hers. a grim thought, freshly picked from a dark corner of kennedy's psyche that always seems to gnaw at them in times like this. the part best kept in the confines of her own subconscious.

 the silence that surrounds them is heavy, two pairs of eyes linked to each other in momentary… understanding? who knows. whatever it is, it breaks the moment he speaks up again and kennedy has to resist the urge to roll their eyes when he asks if they’ve collected statements. instead, settle on a sugary smile, picture perfect as the good little reporter they are. “yes, sir.” feed into the hysteria — now there is something the two can agree with. “unless you’re an incel dressing up as a rich asshole in a suit.” kennedy replies with a shrug of her shoulder, making a point to leave the ‘unbelievably hot’ portion of his get up out. they know better than to confirm or deny such an egocentric statement. besides, if he’s gonna make his employees walk alone in their fake blood-soaked prom dress on the night a body was literally discovered then it doesn’t matter how attractive he is — kennedy will label him a woman hater regardless. so they start walking, ultimately giving him the option to follow or not, though fully expecting him to. “well, boss. you have to expand your movie taste if you don’t know who i am dressed as.” or is it that he really doesn’t care? “what’s your favorite film?” they're expecting him either to list some raunchy film directed by a weird indie director or the wolf of wall street. 

he moves his index finger as kennedy talks , signalling she get to the point quicker . he's hearing a lot of BUMPS in the road and ricardo doesn't care for them . he doesn't care HOW they get the story , he just needs to know that they WILL . and in true fashion , they finally deliver those magical words . something on your desk by five . ricardo's face ghosts with an almost genuinely pleased smile . while it's clear that kennedy doesn't care for ricardo , and ricardo is like brutus in that he cares for nobody in return . . . he's appreciative that he can come close to TRUSTING them to always deliver . at the mention of the estrada's , ricardo feels himself do a double - take . for some reason , he hadn't even considered that . " is that what they're saying ? " his voice is harsh . " that it's daniela estrada ? " ricardo feels a sharpness overcome him , something akin to a lightning strike before a storm . he allows silence to wash over them . a RARITY , before he continues . " have you gotten statements from people who were around ? the more hysteric , the better . " he doesn't need to tell them how to do their job , but a change in topic is welcome . HE ROLLS HIS EYES . " please . an incel could never dress this nice . " he flattens his hands , smoothing them over his dolce , tailor fit blazer . " i'm dressed as a rich , yet unbelievably hot , asshole in a suit . " ricardo replies , voice flat yet smooth as always . his eyes graze past kennedy . " i'd ask what you are but i don't care and i'm sure it breaches some workplace relation with me being your boss . "

"are you volunteering?" kennedy asks, nose scrunching playfully in jest. had they been in high school or even back in college maybe it wouldn't have been much of a joke to them but hey! growth. we love to see it. “we look hot – it almost looks like we coordinated this. we’re just missing the hearts sweater jennifer and the white puffer jacket jennifer” they would be too powerful, they fear. avery’s confession earns a slow, impressed smile from kennedy. holy shit – the talbot girl is all grown up!  “really? well... whoever it was deserves a toast in their honor then! wanna go upstairs?" the tables there are much more discreet. less likely to get caught with their own booze up there.

" well , one of us is gonna have to change. " she's joking -- mostly. the two costumes were the same character , from the same movie -- though avery had gone with the cheerleader out. " let's be honest , they're not selling any of the good stuff here but someone -- not naming names -- may have swiped something from my parent's liquor cabinet and placed it in my purse. "

soon as she unblocks me the wedding is back on

the silence between is heavy and the house seems to settle within it, wind whistling through the room as if to cut the tension. a shiver runs through them once more, the chill more physical than mental this time. kennedy is hyper-aware of their surroundings. of the dust particles floating in the air, the stray moonlight peeking into the room from poorly boarded-up windows, and kieran talbot. standing as the centerpiece.  illuminated by a warm light, lips parted slightly, a small twitch in his brow, dark eyes trained on them with a reflected caution. he almost looks like a painting. like something they would see in some museum, drawn by an unknown tragic artist, toeing the line between beautiful and unsettling. so kennedy does flinch when kieran moves closer, all instinct, eyes narrowing into daggers— a silent warning.

the mention of their book is unexpected and the wary glare softens into something kennedy can’t quite place, somewhere between amusement and surprise. they were sure that their parents did their best to spread the word about kennedy's achievement around town but they didn’t actually expect anyone care enough to pick up their book. they haven't spoken to anyone about it, not even santiago. so under kieran's mention of it, they suddenly find themselves thinking back on their time in italy.

a small church yet beautifully ornate with stained glass windows depicting idolized saints and dutiful angels. their eyes meeting his— the priest in their story. father caruso. the last murderer they were in a room with as far as they know .  the man who had the whole town wrapped around his finger. kennedy remembers looking around the cathedral, catching glimpses of the people in the pews looking up at him with teary reverence, clinging to his every word.

kieran’s voice pulls them back to the present, directing their attention to the battered bed nearby. sybil thorne’s bed. kennedy’s flashlight follows instinctively, skimming over the surface before snapping back to kieran, unwilling to lose sight of him. they feel disoriented, trapped between two worlds—the cathedral in their memory and the decaying thorne house.

kieran’s words settle in the room like the dust swirling in the faint light. more lamb than butcher. the phrase plays over in their mind, the weight of it heavier than they expect. "yeah?" they finally speak up, canting their head slightly, a slow-growing smile making its way to their features. "so what's a sweet little lamb like you doing out here then? hoping to find a purpose to bleed yourself into?" kennedy wasn’t fully convinced, they would be foolish to be, but they’ve never been the type to look to god or the universe for guidance. their gut was their bible and right now, it’s telling them that the kid who spent years buried in old articles and cold cases might be better used as an asset than dismissed as a suspect. they lower their flashlight some, and perhaps their guard as well. for now at least. "'cus i might just be on the same boat as you. " there's another pause then, only this time it doesn't feel so daunting. "do you think this place is actually haunted?" a sudden ask. they just can't help but shake the feeling that they were being watched. was it paranoia? god?

ꜜ ﹙ ⚰️  ﹚ ﹕ the questions hung heavy in the air for a few moments, met with kieran's silence as the thorne house creaked and groaned with every cold autumn breeze, almost as if the very walls were an audience reacting to this confrontation. he held his stance even against the blinding light of kennedy's flashlight, expression caught somewhere between surprise and something more akin to indignance against the returned accusation. it should be expected ﹕ he probably checked off multiple boxes in some litmus test for serial killers, but allegations felt like smoke sometimes ⸻ it could be suffocating if left unchallenged. he let the silence stretch out between them just for a few more beats, the weight of it pressing down on him like the dust that covered this old rotten place, before finally taking a small step forward. just to see if it would rattle them, just to see if they would flinch, just to see how much kennedy actually believed him to be red creek's newest murderer. then, a smile as he shook his head. “ i read your book, y'know ? great work you did there. but people look at it like it was an exposé on that priest, the oh so terrible things he did to maintain people's faith ... but the way i see it, it's more a revelation of the lies people tell themselves. ” kieran shrugged nonchalantly, casting his light on the bedside table, where sibyl thorne's weathered bible remained after all these years. and he wondered if she believed god would save her son from the misplaced wrath of this town. “ they need something to believe in, something bigger than their own insignificance. faith healing, prayers to some god, a big dose of hope and dopamine from the bible— because to live in a world without that, without the illusion of purpose, of salvation, would be too much. it's easier to believe in that whole weird apocalyptic scifi literature than accept we're just specks of dust drifting in a universe that doesn't really give a damn. ” and finally another step forward, hands raised in feigned surrender. he didn't always say much, sometimes not even enough, but kieran felt an affinity for kennedy ﹕ both of them only trying to make sense of what was happening in their town. “ guess what i'm tryin' to say is, i may not look like it, but i give too much of a damn to be an indifferent killer like this goddamn universe. i'm really just like all those people, ken. more a lamb than a butcher. ” a mess of belief, fighting too hard for meaning to ever be an empty murderer.

RYAN DESTINY via tiktok

it’s a surprise there isn’t more awkwardness between them considering how little the two have interacted with each other before tonight. ken had heard of the change in the register’s hierarchy before they had made it back to town and naturally, it made them curious. ‘who is ricardo perez and why did he decide to purchase the local newspaper station of some shit town?' in the two months since they’ve been at the register he hasn't really been around much for her to ask and whenever he was, work took precedence over any relationship building. that was perfectly fine with kennedy. their first impression of him had left much to be desired. a man in designer, with an air of self-importance, painfully aware of the edge given by his looks and money. his arrogance almost felt curated, like he had built it for the precise goal of pissing everybody off. tonight they find themselves pleasantly surprised by the man walking beside him. the fact that he’s out here with them, skulking the ominous streets while a potential murderer is on the loose is more than they can say for any of their former employers. ricardo is showing a willingness to get his hands dirty and that kennedy can respect.

“so you don’t watch movies because you’re too busy being rich?” kennedy flashes him a look — they are calling bullshit! “i’ll be fine.” hm, that’s not what he cares about. they add, “and i’’ll be able to write just fine, thank you.” quick to dismiss his comment, unwilling to humor any question to their competence, even in their current state. they aren’t wasted and they probably have the sobering effect of the news to thank for that. it was a poor move to allow themselves to get carried away with the evening’s festivities. one that they haven’t stopped mentally cursing themselves for. "oh — " ricardo’s gesture to give them his jacket visibly catches them off guard. a moment of chivalry that they wouldn’t have expected from anyone, much less him. then he follows it up with his usual snark and kennedy’s mind focuses on the familiarity of that instead.  “sorry, i wasn’t expecting to be out this late. i would be in bed right now if it wasn’t for the body. if there is a killer, then it has to be one with a flair for dramatics.” they huff indignantly but they allow their fingers tug at the fabric of his blazer,  securing it over themselves.  “the way you said it made it sound like you didn’t like halloween and i was just wondering why. sue me.” they reply, their voice kept at an even, matter-of-fact tone but if he were to take a glimpse of her, he would notice the corner of her lips twitch in amusement. the irony of him telling a journalist of all people that, when all kenny knows to do is dig and dig for something deeper. who would they even be if they didn’t read into things? if they didn’t push for more? even his refusal to elaborate intrigues her, and gives her an all too familiar itch to scratch, but they have more tact than that. besides... there’s work to be done. “great, we can divide and conquer then. make more use of our time that way.” they’re in a time crunch after all, with only so many hours left in this godforsaken night. “so you wouldn’t take me up on an espresso martini, then? killjoy.”

he lets out a long breath of air as they walk together . for a brief moment , he can feel the tension unspooling from within him . the tension that's made a name , clawed its way deep into his body , nested there , left bloody marks - refused to let him go . but when he inhales again , it's right back . heavier than ever . ricardo's only been here 6 months and in those 6 months he's spent next to no time at the register . THE REGISTER ISN'T WHY HE CAME HERE , it was just a great opportunity . on his first day in town , he'd done the obligatory show of face , but had hopefully made it clear that the register would continue it's boring hum-drum life without him . he was purely OPERATIONAL . everything changed , of course , when daniela went missing . he can sense that apprehension and distrust from kennedy . he gets it a lot . at least from them , it makes SENSE .

at their comment , ricardo manages a half roll of his eyes , using the opportunity to look up at the blank night sky . there's not a single star he can see . " being rich takes up more time than you'd think . " he replies coolly instead . it's not exactly a lie . he chances a glance at kennedy as they walk , analysing their drunkenness . " you better still write coherently . i don't want to read the front page of you just garbling drunken nonsense . " as kennedy wraps their arms around themselves , ricardo makes a show of rolling his eyes this time . he shrugs out of his blazer and places it over her shoulders . " next time , wear something weather - appropriate . " he continues walking , eyes still keenly ahead . " nothing's wrong with halloween . must there be ? sometimes things simply aren't that deep . " ricardo's voice is like silk , sliding between topics , words , sentences , oozing confidence he doesn't deserve to have . " firstly , i can talk up anyone . " it's true . when he turns it on , ricardo can REALLY turn it on . he simply chooses not to . " secondly , we're not getting you another drink . you owe me words and i owe me bed . if anything , we're getting you a coffee so you can stay up , preciously tippy - tappying away . "

the  irritation  that  drips  off  nadia  only  serves  to  amuse  salvador further.  he  takes  a  step  back  when  nadia  approaches,  giving  her  enough  space  to  cut  in  front  of  him   and  rearrange  the  display.  there’s  one  candle  still  in  his  hand,  head  dipped  slightly  to  get  a  good  whiff,  but  he  can’t  tell  what  the  candle  is  supposed  to  smell  like—  too  busy  looking  at  nadia  through  dark  lashes.  a  scoff  escapes  him  at  her  quip,  “don't  be  ridiculous,  nadia. curses  aren't  real. ”  his  looks  were  natural,  thank  you!  “—and  i  didn’t  cheat  on  her.  not  technically.  we  were  never  officially  together.  you'd think the cosmos  would have— i don't know —given  her  a  memo  or  something.”  he  shrugs,  as  if  it  were  no  big  deal.  ‘cus  it  wasn’t.  not  to  him  at  least.  “you  don’t  actually believe in  all  this  shit,  do  you?  it’s  okay–  you  can  tell  me.  promise  i  won’t  tell  your  boss.”   he  chooses  not  to  address  the  surprise  in  her  tone  when  she  accepts  his  offer  to  take  her  home.  it’s  true that he’s  the  furthest  thing  from  a  gentleman—but  even  he  has enough  sense to not  let  nadia  walk  off  alone.  he’s  not  about  to  pat  himself  on  the  back  for  doing  the  bare  minimum.  not  when  it  comes  to  this. 

 it’s  her  reply  to  his  second  question  that  he  focuses  on,  a  laugh  breaking  out  from  him  at  her  reaction. how  graphic!  “you  wanna  stop  thinking  about  my  dick  for  a  moment?  i  was  genuinely  wondering  if  you  wanted  to  hit  up  some  pool.”  he  really  was,  but  the  way  his  eyes  flicker  to  her  lips  might  make  that  hard  to  believe.  if  he  was  a  better  man,  he  would  put  up  more  of  a  fight  to  ensure  nadia  didn’t  get  the  wrong  impression,  but  the  thought  was  there  now  that nadia had vocalized  it.  huh,  maybe  words  really were spells.   at  least,  the  ones  he  was  willing  to  listen  to.   “--or  is  that  how  manifestation  works?”  he  asks,  voice  playfully dipping  in  tone  as  he  steps  closer,  placing  that  candle  he  had been  holding  on  to  back  to  its  designated  spot.  “you  don’t  have  to  be  shy,  nads.  i  give  just  as  well  as  i  take  if  that’s  what  you're  worried  about.” 

nadia points to the sign she's flipped to now read CLOSED . " the candles are sure done with you . " she states easily . nadia will never understand his seeming obsession with this store other than YES , everyone who works here is hot ( herself included ) . nadia moves around him , her fingers automatically straightening up the candles he'd just been lifting and sniffing . " and she cursed you to look like this forever after you inevitably cheated on her , i'm guessing ? " she says easily , with a grin stretching her lips . nadia rolls her eyes at the easy way he turns it all on . it's like a sport , and he's MAYBE winning bronze ( not quite gold ) . she pulls a face at his comment about locking him up and any ideas of fun . as usual , she chooses to ignore it . nadia does pause though , at the offer of a drive home . she likes walking when she can , but hadn't thought that with everything going on currently and the sun now SETTING . it may not be the safest thing to walk home . a lift might actually be useful . " ok . thanks . " she says , not bothering to hide her surprise at his offer . she narrows her eyes . " i don't have any plans , but if your next best option is to give you a blowjob or something , then i do have plans : it's buying a gun and killing myself with it . "