The Original Kings of Comedy

[Melusine]

"Hey!" She pointed Teresa with her baseball. "That was a one-time thing."

It was English class and she panicked. It wasn't her fault, really. She hadn't done anything wrong other than being near Teresa and then she decided to become a fog machine. Paloma just panicked, you know. Who wouldn't? There was a fucking cloud in the middle of the classroom and it was coming from Teresa's hoodie.

What was she supposed to do?

"I panicked and I apologized, jeez."

She put her left hand against her hip, dipping slightly to the left. The three people there were Sakukaro, Teresa and Ace. Three people she never really bothered to get to know more of them. Other than the usual polite questions and answers people served with a sweet tea and a fake smile, she couldn't judge their character.

"Is that really pineapple flavored juul?"

[Jilly]

The cult girl threw her hands up and took a step back when Paloma threatened her with the bat. Damn, should'a known Paloma couldn't take a fucking joke but like, that kinda scanned, same with her being a little tattle-telling slut.

"It's coo', it's coo'. We're all friends here."

She backed off, so... whew. Sweatin' bullets.

"Yeah, it's... idunno, somethin' citrus? It's all the same shit." She turned back to Sakurako, still puffing away like the boy's bathroom. "How much we got left in the pen, Cherry Tree?"

[Sunnybunny]

"It really would." Ace being a laughingstock, him dying. The way he looked now was bad enough, that haunted expression that had become way too familiar this past week or decade or however long. "But no quitter talk. We're acting out a PSA here, play your role."

Apparently Paloma actually had tattled on Teresa at school which somehow made this even funnier. It seemed the past would stay there though, as they settled on being cool for the moment.

Then a miracle happened.

An invisible, intangible one. Maybe even just for her.

It felt... oh man. Oh man. That last gloss of paint on a painted scene, a Lego clicking into place, the relief after a lifting session. For a brief moment, Sakurako beamed, a genuine smile curling across her lips. The sun shone on everyone equally before a more thoughtful look replaced it.

"More than half? And yeah, it's really pineapple, or as close as smoke can be to one. Considering they bite back too it's actually accurate in that way."

Handing the pen off to the next person who reached for it, she wondered about a lot of things. Only one seemed like it might be worth asking the class.

Well, two. But some topics were too heavy to approach even with a separate peace.

"Where do you guys think the last... I mean, where we're being herded to here? Everywhere else is going to start being a no-go really fast."

A cherry tree needed a good place to put down her roots.

[Buko]

“I dunno,” he said in response to Saku, “I don’t like to think about the why or the what or the when or the how much anymore. What’s the fuckin’ point? The cake’s been baked, the goose been cooked, the die cast—whatever will happen will happen and whatever will be will be.”

His eyes looked downward, Ace pounded his fist against his chest, he gripped the gun in his other hand. He cleared his chest much easier than his mind.

“I have a plan,” he said, “If I get to the end,” he closed his eyes, “I made a promise and Imma stick to it—I know what I gotta do when the time comes,” he nodded, “The problem is the in between.”

Ace did have a plan—he hadn't forgotten it in between the crying and the dying and the shooting and the scampering. The struggle and the grind. He had the vision and inkling of this plan on day one and he had voiced it to Angie and Meilin with such confidence. Make it to the end—call their bluff. Go out as something bigger than yourself—like those monks who light themselves on fire.

Face what’s coming with courage, dignity and class.

He knew that was right. Beats didn’t know why he kept on doing wrong.

“Imma be on the announcements again tomorrow.”

His eyes opened.

“And it’s prolly gonna sound as bad as it was.”

Well, this was awkward, wasn't it?

"And I thought it was more like a Pina Colada type shit, personally. Cuz that shit tasted like straight up Hawaiian Punch filtered through a Depends coffee filter."

And that wasn't?

[Melusine]

Paloma wanted to reply, but she listened to Ace's speech instead. It wasn't rousing or particularly interesting, but it gave one or two insights on what was going. He had a gun, she didn't. That's all she needed to know from this

That's all she wanted to know, too.

"Well," she took a step backward, her foot landing on a fallen tree branch. It made a cracking noise, punctuating her words. "I have a business meeting at five and I really don't want to be late so..."

Paloma put the head of the baseball back on her shoulder. She kept her eyes on Ace then it followed his stare. Teresa and Saku were there, hanging out as if nothing had happened. But something was going to happen, people were bond to react here. Paloma didn't want to believe she could sit down, acting as if everything was fine.

She knew she was better than that.

Or at least, she assumed she was as she took a second step back, her knuckles turning and twisting around the handle.

“Yeah so deuces,” she threw a peace sign with her free hand.

((Paloma walked away into the woods.))

[Jilly]

The cult girl mirrored Paloma with a peace sign of her own that quietly turned into a stand-alone middle finger when the little dove flew on back home.

Ace looked like he learned his lesson the first time with his baby lungs, so she took the vape pen from Sakurako and had a few more puffs off of it.

"Eh," she said, pausing the dry ice machine, "I think at this point no one gives a shit about the announcements. We're in the final innings or touchdowns or whatever, I don't know shit about baseball but like... it's every man for himself now. The dumbasses that thought different are long gone."

Her throat tickled; she stopped for a cough before resuming.

"As for me, idunno. I'm just gonna keep playing jacks and making tracks. Seems 't've worked good so far."

((She blew another ring before eventually leaving the snake and the tree, this time a near-perfect circle.))

[Sunnybunny]

It was oddly disappointing that Paloma didn't say "oh, I left my car running", but oh well. As if in sequence, Teresa headed off to vibe elsewhere.

"You crazy kids have fun! Don't do anything I would do!"

For one weird moment, they were friends. If there was any more kindness in life, she'd never see either of them again. Not burned, not battered, not shot, not broken. No more corpses living in her head. Not knowing them well enough to truly connect was just easier.

Sighing, she let her eyes shut. As if she were alone but of course there was one more, who'd confessed to killing that day too. A club within a club.

"She's wrong. About all the dumbasses that care about other people being dead."

And if she'd killed for love, other people were just as capable. Anyone could do anything now.

Even her, chained to the pain of loss.

"You headed out too? The suspense alone could strike me down."

[Buko]

Mood killer—thy name is Ace Beats. The smoothest man alive. There was never a conversation he couldn’t stop or a moment he couldn’t ruin. He killed moods like he killed people: suddenly and with no discernable rhymes or reasons. Apologizing afterwards only did so much good. So he didn't, he just let the results of his awkward oversharing play out.

Being ignored? That felt the worse. Mocked a little? That was the most common response. Just walking away? That was almost a favorable one.

Beats didn’t want the company of those two—the young girl Paloma and the fast girl whose name he still couldn’t place. Ace didn’t know if he wanted Saku’s company, but it was there. He didn’t know if he had wanted Ivy’s company—it had seemed worth taking. At the time. When Myles responded the way he responded—it seemed worth fighting for. In the moment.

He adjusted his bag, the strap digging into his non-wounded shoulder. There was a sharpness in pain and a throbbing that persisted. This was hurt and he was hurting. Visions of nights with Meilin followed by mornings violence, nights with Aliya followed by mornings violence and nights with Ivy followed by: ding-ding-ding, you fuckin’ guessed it!

Putting the curse of his company on somebody else’s shoulders was a selfish action. There were somethings you had to do alone—that’s why he left Angie. That’s why he had chosen Ivy over Connor. Being relied on was dangerous, especially when you weren’t reliable.

“Wouldn’t want that,” he responded to Saku honestly, “And I dunno…”, that was more to himself, “I don’t think I wanna be alone right now. If I'm bein' real. "

Are you deaf? We don't want you. So shut up and get out!

He felt a chill go down his spine, he shrugged it off by trying to light a fire in his belly.

"I don't think I feel like leaving," the words felt familiar on his tongue--he swallowed them with the remnants of the vape's sweet metal aftertaste, "So I don't think I will. How 'bout that? That cool with you?"

[Sunnybunny]

Hearing Ace, she thought of Thomas. Thinking of Thomas, she thought of killing.

Laughing together running lines. Three lockers down.

Watching his face as she offered her hoodie. Her stubborn, naive confidence.

All the specters whispered together, and Sakurako let them. Her fingers laced together as she wondered if he'd be asking her impossible things tonight. Between the painful longing, the twisted desire and the cloying stress, she'd never felt as alive as she did in this moment.

"Never thought I'd... ah, nevermind. 'S okay."

Hand tugging at her braids, she moved to put the vape back into the bag. Task done, she glanced back over at the familiar stranger.

"You should probably sit if you're going handle the bag all night, it looks heavy and you've looked better."

In the injuries way, not the "I'm trying to mack on you but I'm awful at it" way it sounded like to her ears.

Damn it.

[Buko]

“It is,” the words came out easy, “I have.”

Ace had gotten up from the bench partly due to Paloma’s presence and partly due to his cough. Maybe he wanted to be a gentleman as well? Not even Beats believed that shit. When he sat back down next to Saku, he slung the bag off his shoulder and onto the ground. Ace rested the pistol next to him. It felt weird not having it in his hand. Beats stayed in that weirdness and discomfort for a few moments. He savored it. Pistol on one side and Saku on the other, his bag filled with two other guns and ammo sitting in front of him.

Did Ace really know Saku? They saw each other a few times a day, five times a week. Did that count for anything? Did he know her character? Her morals? Her likes? Her dislikes? Stuff about her family? Stuff about her dreams? Anything worth while? Anything worth remembering?

Nothing. Her name. Saku. Three lockers down. Pretty and friendly and kinda funny and that was it, right? There had to be more to her. There was always more to people. A person’s whole personhood couldn't be boiled down to whatever surface character traits Ace could grab at.

Ace didn’t know Saku. Ace hadn’t known Meilin. He hadn’t known Ivy. He hadn’t known Wyatt. He hadn’t known Toby or Dante or Tirzah. He hadn’t known Myles, not really. He didn’t even know Parker’s name before he unloaded a clip in his back. Ace hadn’t really known anybody or anything. Hadn’t for a long time, probably forever.

“So…,” he said looking for words or any topic of conversation, “You diggin' the senior trip or what?”

The smoothest man alive. Never a conversation or a moment he couldn’t ruin.

~~~

The moment, and the conversation, were spared, momentarily, from the wrath of Ace Ortega. Somehow, someway. The dusk turned to dark and the conversation, against all odds, remained somewhat light. Teflon Saku, capable of facing any and all trauma with a smirk and a saying. The energy was lowkey, but it was infectious enough. Ace took on the contagion with a chuckle.

They spoke a lot. Joked a lot. Got emotional a bit and then laughed it off. It was normal. It was quiet. He didn’t deserve it. Ace got the feeling she felt like she didn't either.

A pain in his shoulder and back. Sharp and throbbing. His sloppy bandages felt damp and dirty with a mixture of blood and sweat. He and Saku remained on that bench, their belongings strewn next to each other. Rations and flashlights out and welcoming any intruder to their demise. Pistol by his side. Sleep would come when it would come, for the moment, the darkness was staved off with an imaginary sword of light.

House and doctor was the games we used to play but now it’s real Jazzy Belle.

Rap lyric for everything.

So much had changed and this still remained the same.

“Hey," a pained, hoarse whisper, "Saku?”

[Sunnybunny]

Hear about the new restaurant called Karma?

There’s no menu: You get what you deserve.

The world around them had decided to stay away, for now. Guns were still at the ready, the need for sleep was creeping up on her, but they'd stayed steady. Ace would have been good for the clout gang, but that time had passed like the hours between them.

It was just her now. Whoever she was, or was becoming.

"If you ask me to shoot you I'm kicking you dead in your ass, boy." Maybe Thomas could be her last kill, too. He deserved to be elevated, venerated in that way.

Her laughter was choked, but she placed the back of her hand against Ace's forehead. He sounded pretty awful and was it hot? Feverish?

Who was she kidding?

(her own cheeks were warm, from-)

"But what's up?"

[Buko]

“Been shot twice,” a weak smile crept to his face, “And that shit was twice too much.”

Her hand felt soft against his forehead—his forehead was just as bandaged as anything else. What was he even feeling, really? The pain of a missing ear, courtesy of Justin Greene. That was almost nothing compared to the throbbing in his shoulder. That pain was sharp and paired with an inescapable guilt. It was a fucked up cocktail and it burnt when he choked it down. His own cowardice and cruelty paired with the bloody and festering wound. Body after body, murder after murder--inescapable guilt and unavoidable truths.

Beats flinched from her touch and turned his attention to his bag. A bottle of water (one of Ivy’s) and his first aid kit were fished out with a clumsy quickness. His hands trembled as his flashlight illuminated the kit.

“Can you help me?”

There was a selfishness in his voice—there always was, he had just never noticed it. He wasn’t reliable and yet he still found himself wanting to rely on others. What had he wanted from Ivy? To feel like the hero. What had he wanted from Meilin? To be wanted. To be right. What did he want from Saku? Everything he was unwilling to give. Anything she was willing to let him take.

“I need to rebandage and clean this,” he waved to his body, “Whole thing.”

There was a kind of honesty that was only available when the sun went down. There was a truth that only revealed itself in the shadows. It was easy to do anything in victory—it was only in defeat that you really found yourself. Ace was beginning to see, slowly but surely.

“You don't mind, do you?”

[Sunnybunny]

As soon as he asked, Sakurako wanted to run away from everything. He wasn't dumb enough not to know just how much he was asking for, and it was wrong. Her help in this would be as big a betrayal as not brutalizing Justin as soon she saw his fucking face.

Her tongue swiped across dry lips as she grabbed the bottle from his hand, opening it and sipping. There was relief, instant and quenching and somehow still not enough.

Speaking would damn her, so for the moment she didn't.

Ace had managed to keep enough disinfectant to make this possible. He hadn't had some stupid girl make a plan to set all of it on fire, dooming him to die for her. Grabbing the scissors, she slipped a finger under the wraps and snip-snip-snipped to reveal the skin of his torso. Her hands were steady as she cut more, went higher and higher. It was called acting.

The point was acceptance was proving to be terrifying as rejection.

"So." Did she mind? Did it matter, when her screwed up emotions were becoming such a high? "What's the story, Wishbone?"

[Buko]

It was all casual. Regular degular schmegular. Like he asked to borrow a pencil. Like it was normal. It wasn’t. He knew that and she probably did as well. She didn’t do a bad job acting like it was just another day in the office. Beats almost believed that it was. That was her thing, right? Acting? He didn't know and he couldn't be sure. It seemed right though. It didn't really matter. Theater geeks and jocks didn’t mix much. She had been three lockers down but she might as well have been three planets away.

How much of his own personhood had he distilled to just whatever he could wrap his mind around? Did he know himself any better than he knew Saku? The jock or the bohemian—the athlete or the artist? They had seemed like two separate worlds at the time. It was all so petty…but at the time it had been heavy. That was a pattern. That was the way things went.

The cool night air coated his wound and it stung so bad he hissed. Beats could never play it cool. His eyes always betrayed what his heart tried to hide. She hadn’t even gotten to work yet, had she? She’d barely touched him. Ace was far too sensitive for his own good and far too often did he succumb to struggle.

The bandages on his chest and back were shed, snipped and cut away. His top half was naked and exposed. The mark of his ego and weakness visible for the world to see. His battle scars yet to close. Ace Ortega. Far too sensitive for his own good. What was the story? What the fuck could he say?

“It’s a long one,” he answered her question the best that he could, “I dunno…”

There was a concerted effort to try and find the words. It’s not that he didn’t want to find ‘em. It’s not that he couldn’t—it was just slow, it just took awhile.

“Myles did it,” he finally settled on it, “Myles shot me,” deep breaths, slow and steady, inch by inch, moment by moment, “I dunno why. Just went crazy I guess.”

There was quiet.

“That’s bullshit,” another breath, immediately followed by a sigh, “I know why he fuckin’ did it.”

He didn’t mention Ivy. All he thought about was her dead body, bleeding on the ground.

“I fuckin’ dared him.”

[Sunnybunny]

Onions had layers, so did cakes. As she cut though Ace's, her heart worked its own rhythm. It would be a lot easier if it was just that it was thinking he was hot, but he looked a mess under there. Made her worry if she could do this.

If you needed to hear it again: Sakurako couldn't stand herself. Had she always been so flightyfaithlessfuckedup?

Why was she doing this?

If he was aching from just this, it was going to be a long night. Gently, she took a fingertip and circled one of the bullet holes to test how tender it was while he found the words for what he'd been up to. And hoo boy, what a tale. Myles? Like, XOXO Gossip Boy? Even though he'd already proven himself a murderer a few days a ago, the mirth bubbled up inside her and threatened to spill out all over the place. Her smile was barely sealing it.

"You dared him? Like, were you playing party games and that was just the best you could do? I'm sorry, I'm sorry."

Her laughter had become a boiling kettle, too much to keep silent.

"It's just kind of ridiculous, y'know? Never took that guy for his own dirty work." That made her think of bring digga ding digga digga da-ding- "Do you know if the bullets went through?"

Cupping his face with one trembling hand, she clipped off the bandages there with the other.