VICKY CRISTINA BARCELONA (2008)

quality advice from jeremy allen white

“you are just so…” frustrating. annoying. disrespectful. hurtful. “…typical.” the detachment in his gaze sends a wave of déjà vu over them. a memory flies by them, an afternoon where they cried to their mother on the way home from school, distraught over some playground injustice made against them. ‘that’s awful, sweetie. how did you do on your math test?’ it was then that kenny came to the realization that their existence is only ever recognized when they do something exceptional. it’s why they’re always, reading and writing. why they make time to work out no matter how exhausted they are, why they never left the house without looking presentable — they were an accessory, something to be bragged about. they played into it, but acceptance did not equal contentment and the more they molded themselves the more they felt a rumble within—a simmering anger that had taken root in their chest and now lodged itself at the base of their throat, itching to break free. if they were to finally snap, would people be inclined to listen or laugh at them? they think ricardo would fall under the latter.. it was stupid to think the two would see eye to eye. no, it’s embarrassing and kennedy should have known better.  after all these years, could there still be a corner of their heart that yearns for someone—anyone—to just understand them? stupid, stupid, stupid! 

they told their head back with a sigh, deep with an exhaustion stemming from years back. this time it’s their turn to look up at the sky and for a brief moment, they are distracted by a thought… when was the last time they saw stars? have nights at red creek always been devoid of them or is it just the one time they look that they decide not to show themselves? is this the price one has to pay for defying them? the mention of effie brings them back to earth, the sting of yet another jab at their ego anchoring them. ricardo doesn’t need to remind kennedy they are not the only writer worth a damn in this town — they are already painfully aware of it, thank you! but he does, and it feels intentional, like he's baiting them.  they don’t know what their expression is, right now. if they look like they want to laugh or cry or both. it doesn’t matter. they shrug the blazer off their shoulders, gathering it in their hand and pushing the fabric toward his chest—not shoving, because the last thing they want is for him to add ‘aggressive’ on top of his ever-growing determination to belittle them. “i said, five.” they spit back. "i’ll have something at your desk by five.” they were going to write this piece and they were going to do it well. if the story does happen to take off then they will be damned if they allow ricardo to be anything more than a footnote in its success. if ricardo has nothing else to say, they will turn on their heel and continue to make their way to red stone. with or without him

this is what ricardo is good at - ruining things . he was born to destroy . why else would he have been left at such a young age ? he's never quite been able to understand how to connect or converse or enjoy , much less love . he shakes the thoughts away , ignoring the feeling within him that reminds him : THIS IS WHAT YOU ALWAYS DO . this is all you're good for . kennedy's annoyance only vaguely amuses him . his brain is sinking back into its own comfort of a black hole . he finds himself barely paying attention as they speak , instead focused on his steps , and on REDCREEK . what is he doing here ? what on earth did he expect to happen ? sometimes he is that little boy all oven again , reaching up his arms to nobody , an empty kitchen .

he takes a long moment to readjust , realising they've stopped talking but seem to seethe on the spot . he blinks at them , genuinely puzzled for a moment before deciding that it probably wasn't anything CRUCIAL anyways . " sure , sounds great . " ricardo dismisses , with a small wave of his hand . he thinks of the countless times he's received blocks of angry , tirades of text . his ability to gloss over them is par to none . i'm not reading all of that , he'll often think to himself , with an eyeroll . it seems he can do the same when people talk too incessantly to him for too long about things he simply doesn't care about . " so . 6am , yes ? or is effie less . . . emotional about this than you are ? " ricardo chooses his words with faux - carefulness . he understands emotions are running high , hence why kennedy may have decided to start ranting - but ricardo doesn't have time or care factor for that . he just needs the best writer on this . he thought it was kennedy , but now he's beginning to feel he was more than wrong .

RYAN DESTINY via tiktok

CYNTHIA ERIVO as Elphaba and JONATHAN BAILEY as Fiyero in Wicked: Part One (2024)

"hmm that you did." they muse, a smile tugging at the corners of their mouth. "man, you always had the best stuff." she was discreet too, which was something kennedy always appreciated about nadia. they can't even imagine what trouble they would have gotten in if their parents had ever caught wind of all the times the two smoked beneath the school bleachers, giggling about whatever nonsense was relevant at the time. they were a match made in heaven. nadia needed their book smarts to pass class, kennedy needed her street smarts to make this godforsaken town remotely bearable. an unlikely duo, but a friendship that kennedy didn't realize how much they've missed until tonight. distance ihas a watt of testing relationships and kennedy, of all people, knew that all to well. despite the years apart they still felt a little corner of their heart reserved for nadia. they didn’t know how to navigate moments like this, though. they knew she wasn’t the type to look for sympathy and it didn't feel right to bash her parents when nadia still clearly held some attachment towards them. would kennedy feel the same if they were in nadia’s shoes?

so they don’t say anything. instead, offer a solemn nod. they are sure they will ponder this later, when their brain finally manages to come up with something remotely wise. the glamorized pictures that nadia paints of their job description are far more exciting than the reality that is a gray cubicle and the sound of typing filling the air like elevator music. a laugh breaks out at nadia’s anchor-like voice and they follow suit, unhooking their arm from nadia’s to sit up straighter, raising a fist to their lips as if it were a microphone. “thank you nadia, for the local hottie report. we cut back to announce that unfortunately for everyone back at home, the glamor will end the moment the liquor leaves your system. we recommend thinking twice before sending that ‘u up?’ text.” not exactly the type of reporting kennedy does, but definitely more amusing on a night like this. kennedy’s smile falters a little as they cheer once more, nadia’s words stirring something inside kennedy. something they don't particularly want to put a label to yet. the pause between them is brief, but heavy and it seems they are both happy to choke it down with the tequila rather than addressing the unspoken truth – that despite rekindling their friendship, the years have placed them on different paths, two worlds apart. “you wanna go dance?”

kennedy's reaction is exactly why nadia finds it as indulging to tease them about santi . nadia would be lying if she didn't inwardly cringe at it , too . her grin stays large and present on her face as the two laugh . she feels like a teenager again , which is only elevated at the mention of study guides . " did i not offer you weed and alcohol aplenty in return ? " she pretends to scoff , as if the exchange wasn't still WHOLLY UNFAIR to kennedy . " i wouldn't have passed any classes without those study guides . " nadia's grades were as abysmal as anything else that requires her to spend time on it .

the warm contact of their arm around her makes her smile , almost abashed , down at the floor . they're both not huggers , but there's familiarity there . " i hear from her every now and then . " nadia replies and hopes to god they leave it at that . her phone burns in her pocket , silent and abandoned . a reminder of how her parents view her generally . " i mean your duty in the same way the royals talk about their crown . " in a way , kennedy and their job is comparable to the monarchy . nadia offers them her sweetest smile and is pleased when it works when kennedy eases up . " a fluff piece , huh ? what will that constitute of ? the night was young , and the town people were hot . . " she fakes a news anchor tone . honestly , nadia can't remember the last time she read the register , but she'd be more prone to pick it up now if it meant supporting kennedy . nadia beams , all teeth , as she clinks her second shot glass against kennedy's . " cheers to us drinking together again . who woulda thought that would happen ? 22 year old us would refuse to believe it . " it's meant to be said in a positive way , but it sounds like a horrible REMINDER OF FAILURE even to nadia's ears . she busies herself with clinking the shot glass again , with more determination this time , and swiftly downing it .

Anyways🤔

"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. "

CHURCHES  MADE  KENNEDY  UNCOMFORTABLE.  anything  that  has  to  do  with  divinity  or  a  higher  power  did.  her  guard  has  been  up  since  the  moment  she  stepped  foot  into  the  chapel,  sharp  gaze  set  on  the  praying  priest  just  a  couple  pews  ahead  of  them.  a  stark  contrast  to  her  more  doleful  stepbrother  beside  her.  "if  it  makes  you  feel  any  better,  i  doubt  that  was  what  KILLED  her."  the  words  are  delivered  in  a  deadpan  tone,  making  it  hard  to  decipher  if  that  was  a  callous  attempt  at  a  joke  or  an  inside  thought  that  was  not  meant  to  see  the  light  of  day.  perhaps  it  didn't  truly  matter.  not  when  the  possibility of  another  tragedy  was  beginning  to  feel  less  like  a  threat  .  .  .   and  more  like  a  promise.  with  so  much  to  lose,  how  could  she  possibly  give  herself  the  space  or  even  the  time  to  mourn?  “i  think  it's  one  of  the  newcomers  or  –  no.  maybe  someone  who  was  around  for  the  original  murders.  someone  old  enough  to  remember.  or  maybe  it's  both.  maybe  jacob  thorne  has  a  long  lost  sibling  that's  come  to  town  to  take  revenge."  too  many  questions,  not  nearly  enough  answers.  “what  do  alaina  price,  daniela  estrada,  and  kirby  sloane  even  have  in  common?”  aside  from  being  a  couple  of  bad  bitches. 

🗝️ open to all. 📍 redemption chapel, jan 24th.

the news breaks, as does half of red creek alongside it. there's an unfair lump lodged in santiago's throat. he wasn't close to kirby ; her death was not his to mourn, and yet ... he sits in the back pew of redemption chapel, hands wound in his hair. it was between here & the cemetery— the weather chose for him. he breathes in, has a hard time breathing out. halloween night plays through his mind. ❝ i asked about her name. ❞ he wants to laugh at the memory, but doesn't have the heart. a puff of frustration leaves him instead, ❝ grow up in a box like red creek & i still had to ask for her name. jesus– ❞