I'm only satisfied by the finer things in life like Rodarte and Margiela and making boys cry

[BlizzardeyeWonder]

The announcements of the next day seemed so far away. Meilin was waiting for them even now because she had another name to look for on there- Ivy's. It didn't matter whether she was a killer or the killed, Meilin just wanted to hear her name on the announcements and maybe she'd breathe a sigh of relief or be internally smug about being right about what a monster she was.

Was that bad?

It was very bad, which is why she didn't say it.

[Meilin Zhou continued from sweeter than heaven and hotter than hell]

"Pretty sure it's the upper wilds. When it comes to stuff called 'upper' and 'lower' it's usually the opposite of what you think it should be, because I think they're named for the rivers?"

It was pretty obvious Ace was even worse with navigation than she was, and that was saying something considering she somehow ended up on the other side of the island while trying to find a stupid bag. It was weird how she was just starting to realize Ace had flaws that irritated her, and some that did more than that. Of course she still cared about him, how could she not, but that was something she noticed.

There was something in the distance. Meilin gripped the haladie a little tighter as they approached- she and him buried the hatchet, but not that- though once Ace got a clear view of someone he apparently knew fairly well there, he barreled in front of her with his arms in the air.

For once, Meilin noticed something before somebody.

Angie was red-handed, quite literally.

She raised the haladie in anticipation.

[Melusine]

Angie stood in front of the collapsed shelter for what seemed to be an eternity. She didn’t move. She didn’t cry. She just stood there, like a child waiting to be picked up. Other than her breathing and blinking, there was nothing indicating that she was still alive. If anything, she was probably already dead.

She heard footsteps behind her. She still didn’t react. She assumed it was Mike. She didn’t want to speak to him so she didn’t say anything. She waited. Lacking whatever social skills she required in this situation, Angie closed her eyes. In this moment, she wished that whoever was behind her would kill her.

However, knowing that she was now in Hell and that mercy was something died yesterday, Angie wasn’t surprised when it was Ace that to spoke her. Her eyes were suddenly wide opened as she turned around.

Her hand went to her mouth. Her eyes were unable to hold back tears. They flickered. She knew there was someone else, but she couldn’t make the details out. Her gun was on forest floor, away from her reach. She could die right now, but Angie didn’t mind. If anything, knowing that her death wish would soon be answered would make whatever time she had on Earth.

“Ace- I- I fucking killed him. I killed him. It’s my fault- he’s dead he’s fucking dead.”

She was frantic. Her emotions were pouring out of her mouth.

“I FUCKED UP I CAN’T FUCKING DO THIS SHIT-”

Angi-

“ACE-”

Angie tr-

“PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE-“

Angie, please st-

“OH MY GOD I’M GOING TO HELL PLEASE, PLEASE ACE-“

Angie’s rambling finally came to an end as her lunch came up.

[Buko]

Angie's response left him confused.

But greater than his confusion was his concern, especially after Angie’s display combined with her general disarray. She puked and Ace felt himself move forward to his friend’s sister, his smoke grenade landed in the grassy floor of the wilderness with a soft thud and his duffel bag followed shortly. A crying girl and a chance to play the hero and feed his self righteous streak? Ace's need to be close to Angie was too predictable. He didn't even notice the gun on the forest floor--him being absentminded was also too predictable.

She killed him? That's what she had said, right? He couldn't have predicted that one.

Who? And why? All important questions, but he didn’t ask, he couldn't. It would've been rude.

This was Ramsey’s sister and he instinctively thought of his friend when he saw her. That’s how it was supposed to be, right? Angie was older than them and could take care of herself, but like, if they were at a party and a guy was bothering her and Rams wasn’t around? Ace would have to handle that. Rams was his brother and thusly Angie his sister by proxy. Thems were just the rules.

“S’okay Ange…s’okay…”

He was at her side, his hand on her shoulder patting her back before bringing her into a very tight hug.

“I gotchu, you good, you ain’t goin’ to hell, you know that, that ain't how it works. Jesus, like forgives and shit…?”

He didn’t know, his parents weren’t religious, not like the Cortez’s. But like, wasn’t that the deal? Jesus died for our sins and if you say he is you're savior than you're good? He made a mental reminder to say a few Hail Mary's before going to sleep tonight.

"You with friends now, family even, you safe."

[BlizzardeyeWonder]

Angie killed him? She killed someone?

Meilin froze as the distraught ranting went on, her eyes wide open. That and the fact that Ace was so quick to comfort her, it made her more uncomfortable than she wanted to admit to herself. Well, the last two didn't give her trust issues- okay that was a lie, but they didn't give her enough trust issues. Now she had too many. She had to tell herself that of course someone like Ace would immediately comfort his... friend?

Yeah she was pretty sure they were friendly at least and not in the way he was with Ivy and why was she still so fixated on that now of all times? God, she'd become so petty.

Still, she remained staring in silence. Why was he comforting a murderer?

She really wished she could reach out and put a hand on Angie's shoulder and tell her it would be alright, she looked so... distressed. What was preventing her from doing so?

Nothing, really. Nothing other than the fact that she didn't want to touch a murderer.

What happened to her in the infirmary?

[Melusine]

Ace hugged Angie as the last spit of bile came out of her mouth. It was like the good old times where Ace held her hair up as the liquor came down. After burning her throat, Angie stopped screaming. It was the type of reaction you saw in movies after likable but dumb hero lost his friend. The problem was that the lovable but really dumb hero was dead and she had killed him.

Her fingers dug into Ace's shirt. It felt nice holding someone alive. Someone who could reciprocate her feelings, who didn't smell of death and vomit, and who wasn't dying because of her. The moment she thought she felt better, she was hit by a surge of sadness that felt like a sucker punch to her gut.

If she wasn't holding to Ace right now, she would fall straight to her gun.

"What am I supposed to do? What the fuck am I supposed to do?"

[Buko]

"Just breathe Ange," he said rubbing his hand through her hair, "Just breathe."

It was as good advice as any, right? If there was a better answer, he didn't know it.

She didn't know what to do, he didn't know what to say and Mei didn't say anything at all--what a group they were. He kept on holding Angie but his eyes found Meilin and he tried his best to wordlessly convey his desperation and how in over his head he was. He didn't know if it was effective.

"Mei, can I get a bottle of water? She needs to drink somethin' after pukin' that all out."

[BlizzardeyeWonder]

Meilin walked over and placed her bag on the floor- internally, relieved she had reason to do something that wasn't stand around and stare.

She opened the bag, stealing a glance at the two of them, Ace and Angie. Finally, the pangs of sadness and sympathy hit her, but maybe it was just because Ace seemed so worried. Well, Angie was in the worst shape out of all of them, shouldn't she be more sorry for her, well, directly?

Why and who and maybe how. Important questions Meilin wanted answered. She knew better than to ask them right then and there, she reminded herself as she handed over a water bottle.

[Melusine]

It suddenly dwelled on her that Ramsey would have loved to see Ace.

How it would have loved seeing Ace with his girlfriend. How happy he would be seeing that they reunited. Angie didn't like admitting it to herself, but she just stabbed her heart out with her own thoughts.

She managed to stop panting. She forced her eyes opened. They were probably bloodshot. It felt like she had left contacts while she had slept. However, she hasn't slept since she had first woken up. Ramsey should have been the one standing here, he would have known what to do with Ace.

What else did she steal from Ramsey other than his life?

His place? His dreams? His relationship?

What else did she inherit? His pain? His love? His disdain?

Her knees felt weak again. There was a sudden pain in her chest again. She remembered Mike. She had to leave. She had to run. If she stayed here, she would have to explain a situation that couldn't be put into words or thoughts. What had happened wasn't in the realm of possibility, and yet it happened.

Yet it was all her fault.

"Thank you but," her hand wobble, "I-I- no."

She manage to pull herself away from Ace. She stumbled backward. Her hands were shaking. She realized that they were bloody. Something else she had stole, something else that didn't belong to her. Suddenly, she felt tiny. She felt insignificant. Someone could crush her, stomp her, kill her, murder her, and she could do nothing about it but have that vague anxious stare and her shaking lips.

"I gotta' go, I have to leave-" hyperventilating, searching for an enemy that was within her, Angie screamed, "I'm sorryI'msorryI'MSORRY."

The clarity that once permeated Angie had finally left.

[Buko]

Meilin handed him the water bottle and that created enough distance for Angie to break out his embrace.

Okay, yeah, Angie was having a nervous breakdown, freaking the fuck out—fuckin’ tripping balls.

In another lifetime in a disclosed location an undisclosed amount of miles away he recalled Angie freaking out like this at her house. Her parents far away and only Ace and Ramsey freestyling in another room. What had she taken that day? Shrooms? She looked more put together then than she did now.

He recognized her panic though, he had seen it before, on the island itself—recognition alone did little to help him calm Angie down. What had he done with Ivy and Amelia when they were panicking? Make out with them? What type of high mofo idea was that? His sober mind and somber disposition prevented him from doing that again. To everybody’s benefit.

And, also, y’know, it was his best friend’s sister—gross! And also, like, Meilin probably would’ve gone full OJ Simpson on him and Angie if he did that. Maybe, probably—it was a really scary knife.

He closed the distance between them Angie created. He reached his hand out to her own.

“Ange, calm down, start from the beginning, I can’t help if I dunno what’s goin’ on…,” he said uneasily, “C’mon, you can trust me, I ain’t gonna hurt you, you good. Calm down and breathe, I got you till we can find Rams, promise. Your lil bro wouldn’t like to see you like this Ange.”

Would that work? What would Ramsey do here? He and Angie were close, Ace didn’t even think they were a full year a part. Ramsey didn’t wanna see his sister crying without even a shoulder to lean on. Ace could at least be that for Angie at the moment, he owed that to Ramsey, that was what friendship meant.

“What happened Angie?”

[BlizzardeyeWonder]

How Angie was acting told Meilin she was either genuinely remorseful and torn up or had more to hide than what she just said.

They weren't familiar. She had a brother, didn't she? In their class. That mean he was on the island, unless he already died.

When Angie pulled away Ace pushed on trying to comfort her. He seemed so insistent on it, calming her down peacefully- Meilin supposed she could put the haladie away for now, so she did- she put it in her bag, that she was still kneeling by.

She didn't move from that spot, but she was tempted to. It was only because Ace asked what happened and she wanted to hear Angie's answer, of course she didn't want to stick by Ace's side and even if she did it was only because- well, she wondered what the headspace of those girls who hated letting their boyfriends out of their sight was, and she supposed now she knew.

Then again it was also murder island and Angie just confessed to murder and her hands were bloody and who knew what weapon she had on her? Who said she wouldn't turn it on Ace next? Though Ace could hold his own in a fight and also he fucked Ivy so- so she shouldn't- no she should-

No, no. Meilin stayed where she was, still watching.

She didn't know Ace and she didn't know herself either. Meilin had a feeling Ace was about to find out he didn't know Angie either.

[Melusine]

Ace mentioning Ramsey, or rather Rams, just made the situation worse. A reminder that he was dead, that would popped out of the collasped shelter back to life and go "what's up?" And he touched her. It was real. This was real. Ace was here. Ramsey was dead. The world was watching. She was going to Hell. This was real. It was real. It shouldn't be real but it was. She didn't want it to be real. She wanted to wake up and be someone else. Please, let me wake up- please let me wake up- pleasepleasepleasepleaseplaseplease-

She gagged again. Her hands was now on her scalp. She couldn't handle them shaking. It made her feel weak. Nothing came up. She wished something was coming up because it would have stopped her from talking. Her babbles were incoherent. If at one point she was narrating her story, this control had long left her body. Her story made no sense, it jumped around, hit walls, broke them, screamed and cried. Nothing made sense, it was this

"-and then- and then-"

She kneeled. Her hands were on top of her head as if she were protecting from blows that weren't coming. Is that what dying felt like? A constant flow of pain and injury and screaming? Did she steal that from Ramsey too? A proper death? Angie was drowning.

"I killed him. I fucking killed him, Ace. He's dead. I killed him- I killed HIM! He's dead and it's my fault! He's fucking gone. And it's my fault. He's dead and he's not coming back. It's my fault I can't- what am I supposed to do? What am I supposed to do now?"

She made herself as small as possible. Her nails dug into her scalp. She wasn't sure why she was begging or what she couldn't do. It didn't really matter anymore. She just screamed.

"PLEASE-" she spat out blood, "stop-" she had been chewing on her lips, "STOP-" there was nothing to stop but herself, "please, Ace I'm sorry I'm so sorry please forgive me I'm so sorry Ace please-" her mind jumped back at her brother, he was lying in an unmarked grave. She would join him. "Ramsey I love you I'm sorry I'm so sorry-"

[Buko]

As Angie melted into her grief, Ace turned to stone.

He froze at Angie’s rant, she couldn’t say everything…but she had said everything. He recoiled from her and backed away quicker and with less grace than he would’ve liked. He felt the color rush from his face—he blinked and tried to speak but nothing came out but wordless disbelief.

She had killed him. She had killed him.

His face broadcasted his emotions: confusion, disbelief, despair and then despondence followed by a stoic stare. There was something boiling inside him—he needed to hit something and be hit. He needed to run through somebody, shove them into the dirt. He needed to run and be chased. He needed violence and glory. His whole life had been nothing but football. No matter what hardship, football had been there.

And Ramsey.

Ace didn’t have any friends he considered best or close—but that was a lie, wasn’t it? Ramsey had never judged him or called him out for being fake in his rhymes. Ace hadn’t chosen Rams as a friend but Rams had chosen Ace and it was a friendship without pretense or expectation. They could talk every day or go weeks without and pick it up like it never stopped. Ramsey was the only real friend he had outside of his teammates.

Ramsey had been his music teammate. And he loved music more than football. He loved Ramsey more than a lot of others too.

His eyes couldn’t remain on Angie, he looked away and to the ground. He saw his muddy sneakers and turning around his abandoned smoke grenade—and then on the floor, somewhat hidden in the grass of the wilderness: an assault rifle. A scary looking gat, black and evil.

Was that what she had used? On Ramsey? Was that what she would use on herself? On Ace or Meilin? Angie was hurt and hurt people hurt people.

Then again, Ace wasn’t exactly right as rain himself.

He approached it uneasily and picked it up—it was heavy and hot but he had never held a gun like that. He held it like Malcolm X did in that picture his Mom had in her room: one handed, the barrel pointed to the sky.

“Where is he Ange?”

[BlizzardeyeWonder]

Angie killed him?

Ramsey. Meilin was embarrassed that she forgot the name of her boyfriend-of-10-days-friend-of-a-longer-time's own best friend. Now she could connect the dots- Angie was...

So that meant Angie killed her brother?

The thought hit Meilin in the gut. It stood still in her mind, because there was nowhere for it to go. It was unimaginable. Actually, it was very much imaginable, Ace went and took the probable murder weapon, but what she meant was that she didn't want to imagine what might have driven Angie to kill her brother.

But she could.

But she won't.

Because really, if Chen was here with her, she couldn't imagine lifting a finger against him, and her top priority would automatically be to get him out of here. Nothing else would matter. And well, if she's getting into alternate timelines, maybe she can consider one where Ace didn't cheat on her and make the question of would you choose him or Chen? a whole lot harder to answer, but for now the answer was clear cut in her own mind, and spoilers- it wasn't Ace. Bros before brohoes, etc. Chen always had her back, and Meilin always had his. It should have been she would always have his, but now she couldn't be there.

She wasn't going home, was she? And if a rescue wasn't coming, then-

Well, back to the hypothetical situation where Chen was on the island with her. If her biggest priority would be-

No, no, no. She refused to imagine it.

Instead, she took her haladie into her hands again and stood up.

Was Angie going to die?

[Melusine]

"He's- He's here." She pointed the pile of branches and leaves that became Ramsey's tomb.

She was on her knees. Begging. Again, not sure why she was begging. She knew for a fact it wasn't forgiveness. She knew it wasn't for redemption. Angie was just begging for thread.

"Please Ace- please I'm so so-sorry," her fingers tugged at his tank top. He had her gun. Meilin had a knife. "He wanted me to- he asked- and I did it- I can't-"

She felt another surge of nausea. What was she supposed to do with his last words? How was she supposed to live with them? Was she even supposed to live with them? She didn't know. She continued begging.

"Mercy- no, uh," she wasn't keeping her story straight. It was true, but her mind was juggling between reality and fiction. "Kelly. Kelly put something in his drink and then he just-"

How was she supposed to say that he was vomiting blood? It just sounded like an excuse to put him down. "The same thing that killed Mercy- he was with them and- and Nathan and Madison and-" who else? She couldn't remember. His story didn't really make sense in the first place.

"Ace. Ace- he wanted me to. What am I supposed to do with this? He wanted me to kill him- he wanted me to put him down." It sounded like she was talking about a dog. It make her choke up. "He asked for it- he said I needed to go home- what am I supposed to do Ace- what am I supposed to do with that."

She finally realized why she was begging.

"I don't want to go home Ace and I still killed him- I killed him- I promised and now-"

She couldn't speak anymore.

[Buko]

“Stop Ange,” he said with a desperate firmness, “Please just shut up.”

He broke out of her grasp and stared at her in estimation: Angie was hysterical—but could you blame her? She had killed him, she had killed him. Because he was dying and needed mercy? Like a dog? Ramsey wasn’t a dog.

Who the fuck is Angie to decide it was too late?

He knew Angie was the only one who could decide it was too late.

He was selfish and wrong to be angry and hateful towards her--but he was, he really was.

Ramsey had asked her to go home, he thought to himself, to kill him and get home.

To kill him and then everyone else.

It didn’t sound like Ramsey—it sounded like the request of a dying and scared man. That wasn’t Rams, Rams wasn’t scared of anything. Ramsey spoke his mind, even against people who hurt him and mocked him—he was defiantly Ramsey, always. Ace struggled to define who he was as a man, Ramsey knew who he was and he was willing to balk his faith and family and everything to be just that. To be Ramsey. Whatever that meant.

Ramsey was dead.

He walked to his bag, unzipped it and placed the gun in it gingerly. Angie was unstable and dangerous to herself and to him and Mei, he knew that, he didn’t think he did, but he did and that’s why he was careful. Serious. Quiet. He wasn't gonna let her get the gun and use it on him or herself. He pretended like it was noble--but it was likely selfish. Self preservation by any other name.

But was it as selfish as what he wanted to do? What he was about to do?

Ramsey was dead.

He picked up the bag and then went to the destroyed shelter, to Ramsey’s resting place. He plopped the bag next to him and began removing debris. Leaves and branches and dirt. All Ramsey would ever know or be from now on. A part of the earth. Food for bugs.

Ramsey meant more than that. He meant more than this.

I need to see him. I need to see him.

He didn’t know what he expected? Bullets and blood? Brain and gore like the body in the Infirmary? He wanted to not recognize Rams—but he did. He recognized his eyes and his face even if it was puffed up and red. He looked…not at all at peace. He looked scared and weak…

His hands went to his neck, the collar and then a thick strap, tight around his throat. She hadn't shot him--she had strangled him.

Ramsey was dead and it didn't matter how--but it did, it really did.

“Angie…what the fuck…?”

His hands went to Ramsey’s face and then shot away, right hand in the dirt and left on his bag next to him. Covered in dirt and mud and grief.

It was Ace’s turn to collapse into tears.