southpark is a close knit community, in which y/n's family has woven their selves into. for better or for worse? depends on the day. a chance to get away from the cold, mountainous, town arises from an invite to tolkien blacks's very own private isl...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
"thanks for coming." tolkien greets me at the door of sunset cove, his parents residence. the interior of their house is more elegantly modern than the other ones. if that makes sense. the house is less homely, more office like. the floors are cold. well- cold looking. we don't take our shoes off at the door.
he walks me to the expansive dining room, much larger than my own. the dining room leads to another large room through an open wall frame, but it's devoid of any furniture. a ballroom. the table is completely glass and can seat about 20. it's comically long, but not out of place in the extremely open floor plan. the chairs are funnily shaped, crafted specially for an alien spaceship. it's just one long strip of white in a seat form.
having already arrived, tolkiens closest circle is sat at the farthest end of the left side. jimmy and tweek sit across from craig and clyde, chatting avidly. blonde stan stares blankly into the distance from his position at the complete opposite side of the table. his friends aren't here yet.
they are dressed well, and on par with what's expected. jimmy is in a white button down with brown houndstooth slacks, and a matching tie. it isn't tied properly, leaving it loose and hung weakly around his neck. his obnoxious personality is every so slightly toned down, but still enough to draw attention to himself. he laughs loudly.
craig visibly grumbles at this and diverts his gaze from him, trying to escape association with him through little more than distracting himself. i watch him intently, my eyes burning into his face so harshly i swear they emit heat. resentment harbors within me. is this how bebe feels? his subconscious is alerted of my stalkerish behavior- a natural response we evolved- and he meets my eyes. now that he notices my staring, i no longer feel so transfixed. his hardened features diminish my confidence and now it's my turn to advert my line of sight, opting instead to look at tolkien with an expectant expression.
he looks confused for a moment before relenting a small 'oh'. tolkien guides me to a seat closer to stan than the others, but still uncomfortably alone in the middle. adjacent-to-the-middle.
we have two plates stacked ontop of eachother, two forks on the left of the ceramic, and a spoon and a knife on the right. a napkin tied together with a burgundy ribbon is laid on top of the dinner plates. an empty wine glass also makes an appearance.
kind of wish it was full right about now.
i slightly position my body to the right to look at stan- but more discretely then craig and with less intensity. i just want to see his new hair, not read his thoughts. or send a telepathic message; one that details my unhappiness with him and his reluctance to address it.
