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Chrissy Cunningham was ever the party host. Her sister had once taught her things that she thought had been stupid then, and now.. Well, now, Chrissy just feels exactly like Cassandra.
Always busy, never having any fun of her own. Not even at her own birthday party.
Chrissy doesn't know where her girls are. She's been making her rounds around her home to make sure everyone is having a good time, all the time—Is she having a good time?
The birthday girl stares over her overpopulated backyard and from the corner of her gaze she can see the wooden side gate sway on its hinges. Her eyes flicker over and she sees a flash of dark curls—her heart quickens immediately.
Shes moving before she can think to stay put.
She needs to speak to him. She's needed to speak to him for years. That was the whole point in making sure he was here tonight.
Chrissy pushes past the gate and sees Wesley Roman's fading form. He's walking towards the woods behind her home, he's got a lit cigarette in his hold.
Chrissy has never been back to these woods since her sister passed. It makes her a bit nauseous. But she takes in a breath and hurries after him, as best as she can in kitten heels.
At the snap of a branch under her heeled foot, his head turns towards her. He stops walking and she's able to catch up. She lets out a quick, unsteady breath. There's a few feet of space in between them. "Hi," she whispers.
Wesley's eyes look darker than she remembers.
"What can I do for you, Cunningham?" He says it bitterly, devoid of much emotion on his face. She shifts on her feet, a chill of uncertainty races up her spine. She takes in a breath and shrugs, her arms move to wrap around herself. She's a little cold now. If she looks past him at the tall trees she'll think of her sister and how she laid out here for three days—alone. "Where did you go?" Is all she says.
Wesley turns a bit more towards her now. His cigarettes flame looks so much more brighter in the dark of night. "What the hell are you talkin' about?"
Chrissy frowns, "After Cassie. You went away."
Wesley stares at her for a moment too long. She's starting to regret following him out here. Something doesn't feel right about him. She doesn't remember him like this. So bitter. So cold. So mean.
He doesn't feel like himself.
"Of course I went away, Chrissy. Your sister killed me."
