Chapter Text
KJ sighs heavily, lugging her messenger bag onto the couch of her apartment.
Her shoulders pop when she rolls them, kicking off her sneakers haphazardly back towards the door; the tension of the day, both physically and mentally, floods away a little bit within the comfort of her own home – even if it smells like cigarettes and birthday cake scented candles.
College is… it’s great, in a lot of ways. It gives KJ a lot more freedom away from her parents – who, frankly, are still back in Stony Stream believing the lie she’d told them about going to business school. It also opens up opportunities to meet a lot more people; although, if she’s honest, she hasn’t really embraced that opportunity much, yet.
It’s not like there’s not still time, anyway. She’s only a couple months into her freshman year. And, besides… She thinks she’s content with the friends she’s got. Even if only one of them came with her to New York.
Tiff is off in her fancy college in Massachusetts, and Erin is in some Liberal Arts classes back in Stony Stream, and Mac…
KJ peers out of the window in the living room of her apartment, paper Burger King bag in her hand. There Mac is; sitting on the fire escape, looking off into the rows of city lights and traffic, cigarette perched between her teeth.
She spares KJ a side glance, flicking the ashes over the side of the railing. Her short hair falls over her face a little bit; it’s getting longer, down just past her chin by now. They’ll need to go to the salon soon, probably. Mac has said many times before that she doesn’t mind if KJ just cuts it, but KJ doesn’t really trust her own abilities.
“How was class? Learn anything new?” Mac inquires, and there’s a teasing lilt to her voice. KJ scoffs, pulling herself through the window; she ditches the paper bag on the living room floor as she climbs out to sit next to Mac. The cold air hits her skin a little bit differently from up here. Maybe that’s why Mac leans a bit closer into KJ.
“Nothing you’d care about,” KJ shoots back, nudging their knees together gently. Mac just smiles, that sort of smile that she always gets when KJ responds to her teasing with that same energy. “We started working on those short film scripts today. I’ve kind of had the idea for mine for a while, but… I don’t know,” She looks off, resting her hands into her lap, inhaling a deep breath of that cold, refreshing air. “I’m still ironing some things out.”
“Yeah?” Mac responds, looking over at her; KJ can see it out of her peripheral vision, and she turns to meet her glance. Her tone is… not exactly dismissive, but not so curious either. KJ doesn’t know how to feel about it sometimes; but Mac doesn’t really seem to mind listening to her ramblings.
Mac holds out the cigarette to KJ, balanced between her middle and forefinger. KJ glances at it incredulously, and then back up at Mac’s face. “That shit is gonna kill you, y’know?”
“Oh, come on,” Mac says, rolling her eyes in that way she always does when she’s feeling lectured; it’s generally lighthearted, though, and KJ knows not to take things to heart when it comes to Mac. “Just live a little.”
“I actually plan to live a lot,” KJ remarks, reaching out to gently lower Mac’s wrist, “So, no thanks.”
Mac snorts, taking another drag of the end of the cigarette before she flicks it off the railing. KJ pointedly glares at her for the blatant littering, but there’s nothing she can really do by now; and Mac just grins back at her anyway. “Now, I swear I saw a Burger King bag in your hand…”
They eat on the couch with MTV on the television, like they always do; which is a great disdain to KJ, because Mac is a messy eater and always ends up getting crumbs all over the sofa, but it’s a fair price to pay for that childish sort of freedom she feels with the no-rules aspect of living away from her parents.
Mac is in the middle of chewing a bite of her chicken sandwich when she seems to remember something – and, well, she attempts to say it, but all that comes out is jumbled noises around the food in her mouth. KJ squints at her. “Finish chewing! Jesus, Mac,” She chastises; and in moments like this it’s easy to pretend that nothing has ever changed.
Mac giggles, clearly amused that she managed to get on KJ’s nerves, even if it hadn’t been intentional. Still, she does listen; when she’s finally swallowed down the food to properly speak, she says, “Tiff called earlier.”
KJ perks up a little; she hadn’t talked to Tiff in a couple weeks, just because their schedules were both so busy with their individual colleges. “She said that she’s going back to Stony Stream for winter break,” Mac continues, then, before taking another large bite. KJ doesn’t even try to hide her disgust at how messy Mac is; but really, it’s all playful. Especially because half of her messiness is amplified just to irritate KJ, most of the time.
“Is B. Dalton gonna be okay with you being off for break?” KJ asks, plucking a fry out of the container between them.
Mac scoffs dismissively. “They’ll have to be,” She remarks with a somewhat humorless laugh, “I’m the only employee that doesn’t cancel every five minutes. Like – What is the point of getting a job if you’re not gonna go to the job.”
A fond smile fights it’s way to KJ’s face of its own accord; she doesn’t even entirely notice it. Sometimes she just looks at Mac, just looks and looks and looks, and then all the sudden she finds that she’s been smiling so wide and unabashed for longer than she’s able to tell. She has to tug her own eyes away, because in a way it’s kind of embarrassing; maybe because most people aren’t so fond of their friends, or because Mac will jump at any opportunity to tease KJ if she catches her, or maybe…
Maybe it’s nothing.
“There’s a party tomorrow, by the way,” Mac remarks, then, “If you wanted to come with. There will be drugs.”
KJ glares at Mac, immediately knowing that that particular statement had been made solely to rile her up. She hates the way that it partially works as intended. Besides, KJ never goes to these parties anyway; she doesn’t even really get why Mac goes to them, if she’s honest. Mac tends to be more of an all-bark-no-bite type of girl; and there’s nothing wrong with partying, really, but… It just doesn’t seem like Mac to do all of this baselessly.
Then again, Mac sometimes has a way of surprising her.
She hadn’t even expected Mac to move to New York with her; it wasn’t the first time Mac surprised KJ, not by far, but it was probably the biggest shock – Mac all disheveled, looking for an escape, and…
Erin is great, and Tiff is great, but KJ kind of gets it. Why Stony Stream wasn’t enough. Why Mac had to flee just like KJ needed to.
I mean, it’s not like the lies KJ left behind were entirely pointless; she knew this weird way of shackling you down that a family had, regardless of intentions. KJ didn’t want to overstep, nor to make any sort of grand assumptions about Mac’s family – she knew Mac was sensitive in that regard – but she knew that life at home for Mac wasn’t pretty.
And, well… At least for KJ, her parents did support her going off to college, even if it was all for a lie. KJ wasn’t sure exactly what made Mac follow her here, but she could only presume it wasn’t endless support from her family.
In a sense, it was good for KJ. She had to give up her office room so that Mac would have a bedroom, and Mac had a tendency to make a mess, but… Well, she was KJ’s best friend. It was nice to have company. Plus, Mac had immediately got a job so that she could help KJ out with money.
Although, sometimes… Sometimes KJ can sense, just in the way that Mac speaks, that maybe Mac just wants to feel useful herself. Sometimes KJ kind of wants to tell her that she doesn’t need to be useful for KJ to want to keep her around – but she isn’t entirely sure this would help, anyway, so she just opts to stay quiet.
That night, KJ is up late at her desk; she chews at the end of the pencil as she stares down at the messy piles of paper in front of her, trying to discern how to really add life to this plot she has. Because she knows what it is at it’s base; a story about a girl who goes up to the rooftop to watch the sunset every day. It’s simple enough; she can be the actress, and she has easy access to a rooftop to film on, and she knows she can fit some sort of metaphor into the simple concept.
But… It lacks something so vital. Some sort of life that she can sense, somewhere within the piles of potential; and she thinks through a couple nonsensical ideas, but they don’t really flesh out the way that she wants, and… sometimes, on nights like these, she’s glad she’d sunk her teeth into this opportunity, but…
But sometimes, some nights, it feels like she doesn’t entirely have what it takes.
And it kind of hurts to think about; because that means her parents were right all the times that they’d brushed off her ambitions and desires. They were right to tell her that this life she desired wasn’t enough; because it wasn’t. Not for someone like her.
Who am I?, eats away at her mind, sometimes; What is “someone like me”?
The door to her room swings open, pulling her from her reverie. Just in time, she thinks, before these thoughts can spiral a little too deep. She turns to the doorway, unsurprised to find that Mac is the one standing there.
What does surprise her is when Mac holds up a mug slowly, steam rising up around the edges, with a soft and domestic smile on her face; that almost tired, homely kind of contentment. KJ thinks she feels it, too, sometimes – maybe not so much now, with the stress fraying away at the edges of her mind, but… Sometimes.
“I saw your light was still on,” Mac remarks, stepping in, “So I made you some tea.”
KJ looks at her for a moment. She turns and looks down at the pile of papers on her desk, all scrawled on and scratched out or crumpled. And then, KJ turns back to Mac, and she feels an easy smile rising to her lips.
“Okay, Jesus,” Mac says, “You’re looking at me really weird. What the fuck.”
The smile doesn’t leave KJ’s face for even a moment. “I was thinking—”
“Uh oh, that can’t be good,” Mac remarks creatively – a joke KJ had definitely never heard before, “Don’t hurt yourself.”
KJ allows her face to drop into an annoyed glare, but she still powers on; “I was thinking. I’ll go to the stupid party with you.” Mac beams, immediately, and KJ feels like someone who has finally caught a fish after a long day at sea. “If,” She continues, pointedly, “you help me out and act in this short film with me.”
Mac’s face drops into something contemplative, for a long moment. KJ just waits, patiently; in a way, she hopes this would be enough to convince Mac. In another way, she knows it is. Still, she tries to pout as convincingly as she can, just to be safe.
“Okay, fine,” Mac sighs out, and KJ smiles, “Fine. Deal.”
KJ makes sure to scrawl out her new idea – two girls talking every day on a rooftop, becoming close friends – and then she climbs into her bed. Sleep comes easy, that night.
KJ doesn’t have a lecture the next day; Mac does have work early, though, so KJ has to wait until 2 for Mac to come home. Luckily, KJ is pleased when Mac walks through the door with two coffees in her hands, swinging the door shut behind her with a kick of her foot.
Mac makes a sound between a scoff and a laugh as she slides one of the coffees across the island countertop to KJ; “You look excited for the party tonight,” She remarks sarcastically, and KJ isn’t entirely sure what that statement is supposed to mean, but she does know that she’s offended.
“I actually wanted to talk about the short film,” KJ responds, and Mac barks out a laugh at that, too; KJ tries to take it in stride, powering through – “I feel like… Something is missing. Like… there’s some other detail I should be latching onto that I just… missed, or something.”
Mac gives her a weird sort of look at this statement; and it’s not like the usual weird looks she gives to KJ, where she’s all scrutinizing and playful and teasing. It’s… different. Like she’s just waiting for something to come; like she’s been waiting and waiting and waiting and…
KJ blinks rapidly, and turns away from the intensity of Mac’s stare.
“Well, you can think on that later,” Mac says, taking a swig of her coffee as she starts to walk towards her bedroom, “Make sure you wear something you’re comfortable getting hammered in.”
KJ turns to look at her fully, furrowing her eyebrows. “We’re not 21 yet,” She remarks sort of incredulously.
Mac just grins. “That’s half the fun,” She shoots over her shoulder before turning and walking off into her bedroom.
The party is a little… much, in comparison to what KJ had been expecting. She’d never been to any sort of party; not even in her teenage years back in Stony Stream, not unless Tiff’s birthday parties counted for anything.
KJ isn’t really sure whose house they’re in, but it smells like marijuana and cheap liquor, the kind of scent that leaves that empty nausea in the pit of your gut as you wade through it. The entrance is crowded, too. KJ is tall enough to see that it sort of disperses, but getting through the thick clump of people is a difficult feat without brushing into several of them… and KJ really doesn’t want to touch any of them.
Her nervousness must be more noticeable than she cares to realize, because Mac gently bumps into her and says, close to her ear so that KJ can hear it over the bustle of people; “Hey, don’t worry. I got you.”
Something, something, flickers down KJ’s spine like lightning, freezing her in time for just a moment; it’s weird, this sharp lapse of tunnel vision, the way her mind zeroes in on the press of Mac’s hand against her arm, the scrape of her voice over the background noise.
Suddenly, it’s only them.
Suddenly, something wakes up – something that had never really been asleep, anyway.
KJ in part chokes on something like a gasp, like she can’t breathe quite as much as she needs to; and this is in part because of how cramped the room is. But Mac grabs her arm and carefully pulls her between the people, not really caring to push and tug, and KJ tries to ignore the unease and confusion in the back of her mind.
“Mystery drink,” Mac says playfully as she holds out a shot glass that says Atlantic City to KJ once they are both in the kitchen, “If you can guess what it is, I’ll give you $5.”
KJ knows what Mac expects. It’s a joke; the type of joke that Mac makes just to tease KJ, just to get on her last nerve, just to annoy her. It’s what they do; Mac dangles these little moments like bait on a hook, and KJ knows, she knows, and yet she bites every time.
Maybe it’s more like two dogs playing tug of war; because they pull, and they pull, and nobody wins. But nobody loses either.
KJ knows what Mac expects, because KJ expects it too. But her eyes flick down to the glass, and then back to Mac’s face, and a voice whispers something faint in the back of her head, flickering with the warmth of a house fire, and she reaches out her pale hand and grasps ahold of the glass, knocking it back mindlessly.
It burns down her throat, and she coughs immediately; although the taste itself isn’t all that bad, the sensation aches enough to distract her. It doesn’t take her too long to catch her breath, luckily; and she coughs out a – “Is that cinnamon?”
Mac looks shell shocked, but it fades into something like amusement; and, vaguely, she seems impressed. “Fireball, actually,” She remarks, “Close. But not close enough.” She stares at KJ for a moment longer, almost looking dazed; and then she smacks a hand against the table gently. “I’m going to go find a bathroom.”
She walks off before KJ can remember to follow; and then someone is asking KJ if she wants something more in her shot glass, and she hesitates, but something inside her makes her concede a lot easier than she’d thought.
The burn still catches her off guard, but she’s not entirely sure that anyone can prepare for it. With a cough, she slams the glass onto the countertop a little bit harder than she means to, and turns around to try to find Mac.
The hallway upstairs is mostly empty, at least. She walks through it slowly, a little dazed from the fuzzy feeling somewhere in the base of her skull, settled like sand there, but with the thickness of cotton. There’s only a couple doors, and she blinks away an impending tiredness as she shrugs off the last of her anxieties and approaches the first one.
Really, she could just wait. Except that the rational part of her brain has sort of faded, not even making it’s presence known; and that impatient piece of her, that piece inherently connected to that whispering, that fire – it’s as loud as an airhorn in the back of her mind.
Really, she should just wait. But she doesn’t.
She opens the door to reveal a bedroom; and inside, two girls sitting on the bed, lips locked. One of the girls’ pale hands hikes up the edge of the other’s shirt; just a little bit, palm pressed flat against the camisole beneath, but KJ zeroes in on it and holds it like an anchor. She looks and looks and looks, until she’s not really looking – not really seeing – caught in this daze. A deer in headlights.
Stagnant. Waiting. And yet… and yet…
The world rushes in like a waterfall. She can hear it in the back of her head, in the blood pumping behind her ears.
She doesn’t entirely hear the creak of the door behind her; doesn’t entirely feel where Mac’s body heat emmenates as she walks to the empty space beside KJ. She does, however, notice when Mac says, low and lighthearted, a little frayed around the edges – “They look like they’re having fun.”
She turns sort of abruptly towards Mac; something inside of her is frozen and still, but it’s not— it’s frozen but it’s cracking around the edges, tapping at the glass, waiting and waiting and waiting for this heat to set it free.
It’s frozen, but KJ is on fire, and it’s all melting around the edges, and she doesn’t realize how high on this mountain of ice she’d been standing until it’s crumbling around her and drowning her, and, and, and…
It doesn’t make sense. But she’s afraid for the moment where the warmth sets in, where the tension finally flees and lets everything fall to pieces.
So instead of thinking about it, KJ tugs Mac back into that kitchen, and she drinks until her throat aches like an illness, until her head feels weighted to the ground, until something sour twists in the pit of her gut. And the lights blur around her like a smudged camera lens, like when she zooms in too far, and—
KJ can’t remember most of it. Not the rest, after a few too many shots and red solo cups of something she could hardly taste. She can faintly remember in flashes; Mac’s arm around her shoulder, the agony of slouching up the staircase, the feeling of her shoes being tugged off of her feet.
( And she can hear it. In the base of her skull. “Something inside of you that’s been sleeping forever… and then, all the sudden, it wakes up.” Whatever that means. )
( KJ knows what it means. )
( Maybe, maybe… maybe she always sort of has. )