Jensen Eliopoulos | OPEN

It was almost midnight by the time Jensen approached the barn the horses were supposed to be in, and he was drenched in sweat and shivering. Reddish brown hair stuck to his forehead, and it was so cold that the droplets of sweat on his face and wrists turned to ice when they were wiped on his jacket. His nose and lips were blue, his hands the same ugly color indicating an overexposure to the elements and a lack of circulation from being overdressed.

The morning had gone well enough, his second day of classes were easy and he was already well-liked by all his professors. He was highly intelligent because of the hands-on experience he’d been given since his mom’s fourth marriage–it was like he’d been bred for this. Well, he was, to some extent. His mother was always off in her own world trying to find her next high, in the mean time neglecting the congregation of children she’d accrued from all her failed marriages and leaving her kids wide open for whatever cruel treatment their stepfather of the week wanted to bestow upon them. As the oldest, Jensen typically took the brunt of the abuse, and volunteered to take any that would shoulder the blow for the younger kids. With Cyrus, who’d surprisingly lasted the longest out of all his mother’s men, that resulted in harsh, iron fist discipline pertaining to the “family business.” Which, by the way, he had no blood in, and was one discovered affair on either side away from losing completely. He didn’t really see the reason in being coached to take over Eliopoulos Enterprises, just as he didn’t see the reason to take another last name when the failed marriage was inevitable. But, what did he know, he was just a business major. Against his will, by the way.

His last class ended at lunch time, and he’d taken an hour to eat with some new friends from one of his classes before he started to make his way towards the farm. After an hour of waiting for the driver he’d ordered, Jensen realized his credit card had declined, and Cyrus had drained his bank account of all its money. When he called, Cyrus’ slurred-word response was something about how ‘if he didn’t need him anymore, and he was going to act grown and spite him, surely Jensen didn’t need his money, either.’ Oh, and some violent threats about how Jensen’s mother and siblings were going to pay the price for his disobedience, especially now that he wasn’t there to protect them.

That conversation alone fueled enough anger to get him halfway up the road to Stadt, which he walked by foot, completely exposed to the elements and hauling bags. The exertion was more than he was used to, even as an athlete and a generally hard-working one at that. But, spite only got him so far, and as the sun went down on his all-uphill walk, terror filled him. He’d never been out on his own before without security, let alone on the side of a road in an unknown country. Perhaps he had taken on too much, too fast this time. He was frozen, alone, and terrified. And his phone was nearly dead.

Thankfully, he’d been picked up by a nice German man somewhere along the way. Well, he thought he was nice, from the limited amount of German he’d learned from his stepfather’s foreign affairs. He realized he wasn’t when the man pulled out a gun at the top of the mountain, threatening something that Jensen assumed meant ‘give me your money.’ The man rifled through Jensen’s things, taking everything that seemed valuable, which thankfully didn’t amount to much. To his surprise, Cyrus had gotten someone to take anything out that he’d ever paid for or given Jensen, other than the bare necessities. But, now he was flat broke, and to make things worse, the man had decided that his phone charger was of enough value to steal it. He felt desperate, worn out, and like he’d rather die right there on the side of the road than walk the remaining distance to Stadt and start over as someone he’d never been. The truth was, he’d never been anyone other than nobody. He was the unwanted son, the child she’d failed to get rid of. And, even after he was born, she–and his conglomeration of stepfathers–never stopped trying to get rid of him.

Still, the glowing lights in the middle of the forest proved too close for him to give up now, not when the voices in his head were so loud and so aggressive. They sounded a lot like every man he’d ever been told to call ‘dad,’ and like them, the voices screamed pointlessly day and night, never allowing Jensen any peace. He knew his thoughts were too loud for him to be able to just collapse in the snow and have a nice death, and, at the end of the day, he decided that he deserved a nice death, if it was the only nice thing he was allowed. He put on a brave face and trudged through the woods towards the light, swearing to himself every time he stepped wrong or tripped on something. The night was clear, but even that had its limits, and everything appeared dark when compared to the beacon that Krankenhaus was in the midst of the obscurity.

Finally, he made it to the house, but instead of facing whatever was behind those doors, he decided to go to the barn to make sure that the trip wasn’t for nothing. It would be just like Cyrus to strand Jensen in Germany with no money, no supplies, and no horses on top of everything else. He just had to make sure that wasn’t the grand finale on the day from hell, which was really every day spent as a stepchild of Cyrus Eliopoulos. Jensen trudged on, down the hill, despite every nerve ending in his body screaming at him, telling him to rest. He couldn’t go on like this much longer, it’d been hours since he’d eaten, rested, or anything else.

His breathing was ragged and his limbs were wobbly, but he didn’t allow himself to feel any sort of concern or grace for his condition. He simply forced one foot in front of the other, as he had for the last ten hours or more, letting every minor inconvenience contribute to the feelings of inadequacy that were simultaneously hindering him and keeping him going. After the third barn, he was finally convinced Cyrus had not sent any horses, and his life was a joke. Then, he saw a familiar face, that of a large, beautiful chestnut stallion. MEP Colgate was etched into his halter. This, somehow, was much worse than not receiving any horses at all.

His phone was dead, not that it would have made much of a difference anyway. He knew exactly what this was. He could hear Cyrus’ voice, filled with something evil he couldn’t describe. There’ll be a surprise waiting for you, he’d said, and Jensen had been thinking about it ever since. Cyrus had taken his daughter’s horse away from her, and sent him to Germany. For no reason at all, other than displaced malice. And, of course, to try to drive a wedge between Jensen and Myra.

He threw his phone down in a fit of rage, swearing and unleashing some of the rage that had been building all day. It was undoubtedly broken beyond repair, and he had no money to replace it. Nor did he want to, at the moment. He didn’t even have the strength to go on from this place.

Lilianna + Media Claeys | Jensen (sort of… same place)

It was dark, and dreary, and cold outside as the taxi rolled slowly up the hill. It had been a long drive from the airport, and an even longer flight before that. The girls had tried to get themselves to sleep on the plane, but it didn't work. Instead, they had spent the almost eight and a half hour flight wondering out loud to each other what their new home was going to be like, and complaining about the flight delays that had them arriving days later than they had meant to. Sitting in the back seat of the taxi, Lilianna peered out the driver's side window to her left while Medaia did the same out the passenger side window to her right. It had been a nearly silent ride in from the airport, but that silence was broken by the taxi driver as they neared the top of the hill.

“Your destination, Krankenhaus.” the driver announced, slowing the car to a crawl as they reached the front entrance, and then stopping completely. “May I help the ladies with their bags?” The driver turned to look at them, a polite smile on his face as he propped his arm against the steering wheel to keep himself turned. “It would be no trouble, really.”

“That’s alright, thank you.” Lilianna turned from her window, which showed her only the hilltop now, to the driver and did her best to give him a smile that wouldn’t show her exhaustion from the travel.

“Yeah, we’ll be alright from here. Thank you for the ride! See that you make it home safe and sound as well.” Medaia’s warm, happy voice, was almost tiring for Lilianna to listen to now. How her sister managed to be so content all the time amazed her, and exhausted her. With a nod, the driver turned back around in his seat and popped open the trunk so the girl’s could get their things. They said thank you again, and jumped out of the car and into the frosty night air, both stretching generously as they stood for the first time in nearly two hours.

Quickly, they unloaded the few bags they had travelled with and made their way inside, out of the weather, joking about how it wasnt so different from home after all the entire way.

“You know,” Medaia huffed, kneeing her suitcase with each step she took, “maybe we should have taken the driver’s help with these…” she was beginning to run out of breath, and they had barely covered half the hall they were following to their rooms. “I should not be this out of shape!”

“No, what you shouldn’t have done was packed so many bottles of shampoo, perfume, and whatever else you’ve got in there. I told you we’d find time to go shopping for all those things once we got here,” Lilianna tried to laugh as she finished, but she too had underestimated the weight of her bag and the distance she would have to carry it. “You know those things exist in Germany, too, right? That’s not just an at home thing.” This time she did manage to laugh, but it was triumphant, in satisfaction of finally finding their room numbers on the walls. She dropped her bag and pointed out the numbers to her sister, whose eyes went wide in relief as she gingerly set her bag on the floor as well, afraid to crack one of the many bottles in her bag.

“Hey Lil, do you remember which room is who?”

“Not at all, but I’m taking the close one,” she looked down at Medaia’s bag, and then back at her sister, smiling. “You can get that five feet further down the hall, I know you can! I’m going to unpack, then barn?” Lilianna asked, and dropped her hand into the doorknob of the room labelled R-419. She was almost certain that would be where Medaia would want to go next, to see Sunny now that they had finally been reunited after weeks of quarantine and a few flight delays. Medaia nodded in agreement, and bent to grab her bag once again. “Stupid time zones, I’m going to be jet lagged for days.” Lilianna muttered as she disappeared through her door.

Half an hour later, a little after midnight, the girls had unpacked and rejoined outside their rooms, dressed in matching charcoal grey puff jackets that went to their knees, toques, and scarves.

“Ready?” Lilianna asked, her voice slightly muffled by the mound of fabric that was her scarf. Medaia nodded.

In the freezing dark, they navigated their way down the slick mountainside using the flash flights on their cell phones to see, clutching onto each other tightly for balance. It was only when they had reached flat ground again that they unlinked their arms. With a spare hand, Medaia fished around the massive pockets of her jacket for the scrap of paper on which she had written Sunny’s stall number.

“So, do you have any idea what the name of your horse is?” Medaia asked as they passed the first barn. Lilianna shrugged, despite knowing her sister could barely see her in the dark without the flashlight pointed at her.

“Honestly, Daia, as long as it isn’t a pony, I’m good. I am too tall for more ponies. Where are we going?”

“Just keep walking, we want the last barn.”

After another ten minutes of walking, they finally made it to barn ‘D’, and Medaia practically ran inside, or as close to it as the slippery terrain would allow. Just inside the door, she whipped the piece of paper out again to double check the stall number she was looking for, and then took off at a speed walk down the aisle of stalls, scanning each number until she found the mare she was looking for.

“Sunny!” Medaia called, twenty feet further down the hall then Lilianna, who had been strolling slowly, looking at the horses as she passed them and doing her best not to get too close to the man who was also in the barn. She didn’t think to question what anyone else was doing there at that time of night.

“How’s my big, beautiful lady? You been good? Of course you’ve been good, you’re such a good girl. Hello!” Medaia cooed, one hand stretched through the bars of the door to stroke the buckskin mare’s large face as she came over in greeting. Within seconds, Medaia was inside the stall with Sunny, her arms thrown around the mare’s neck. “It's so good to see you again, babe.”

Lilianna smiled as she watched her sister rejoin her mare. She had stopped just outside Sunny’s stall, guarding the door Medaia had left open even though she knew Sunny wouldn’t try to leave her stall. She was a good girl, just as Medaia had said.

Lilianna had been about to say something when a crash of something hitting the floor hard got her attention. She turned towards the noise, coming from the man she hadn’t wanted to disturb, just as a string of profanity fell out of his mouth.

Medaia’s head popped out of the stall, looking down the hall towards the noise with confusion clear on her face. ‘Should we ask if he’s okay?’ her face said to her sister. Lilianna looked down the aisle again, unsure if they should get involved.

Jensen / Camden / Sullivan / Rena | E/o, Lilliana, Medaia

[Camden Blue]: Hey, idk if anyone’s up but I just saw someone sketchy walk into Barn D. Seemed more like a staff issue than a me issue, but I’m happy to go if someone comes with. I just don’t wanna go alone.

Sullivan was staring at the ceiling, thinking about things he knew he shouldn’t have been when his phone vibrated on the nightstand beside him. He heard it buzz again before he had the chance to pick it up.

[Katarena Suta]: On it.

[Katarena Suta]: Camden, where are you?

[Katarena Suta]: If you’re in K-haus, I’ll meet you on the front steps and we can walk down together?

If he hadn’t read the messages multiple times, he would have thought he imagined Rena’s texts based on the fact that she’d been the subject of his thoughts for hours. Though the idea of going anywhere with her in this altered state of mind seemed like poor judgment, he felt like it was his duty to go with. He’d read the text, he knew Camden wasn’t one to use the chat unless it was urgent, and he knew Camden never started drama. So, if he was saying there was an issue, there was an issue. And a gangly 6’1 teen and a small 5’1 Romanian woman couldn’t do much to prevent danger from occurring, if any arose. He’d never forgive himself if something happened to either of them.

[Sullivan Doyle]: I’ll come too, just in case. On my way.

Opening his door, he nearly bumped into Rena, who was also walking out. Their arms brushed, and he drew in a slow breath. “Rena, I-”

“Hey,” her expression was unreadable, eyes darting everywhere but his eyes. She was so hard to pin down, so hard to understand. Something about it drew him in nonetheless.

“I didn’t know you were so close to me.” It was something of a Freudian slip, as he slowly withdrew his arm from her side, where it’d gone instinctively to protect her. “Across the hall, I mean.”

“Neighbors,” she said coolly, walking down the hall beside him. He slowed his steps to match her stride, still thinking about earlier. Being with her was only suffocating his thoughts more. She didn’t seem bothered by him at all, she didn’t seem anything. She was expressionless, flat, calm. He would have given anything to read her thoughts, if any were there. “Has anything like this happened since you’ve been here?”

“No,” he replied easily, “this is the first. It is odd that someone went past here and straight for the barns, though. Not that people aren’t anxious to see horses, but at this hour? Without leaving their luggage in the house?”

She was silent beside him, so he continued, glancing down every few seconds to read her expression. He wondered if he was doing something wrong. “Did Camden reply?”

“No, but he used the old chat from White Oaks. I’m not sure why we don’t have a new one.”

“We’ll talk to Emily tomorrow, I’m sure.”

After making it down the steps, the pair found Camden inside, facing the window. Rena noticed how much older he looked, even though it’d only been a few years. She was numb, but something stirred in her. He was about the age she was when all this had started, she thought. Maybe a little younger. She wished she could go back and relive a few moments, she wished she could relive a lot of things. Just to feel anything again. Anything at all, after everything that had happened to her. Briefly, she wondered what Alex was doing, feeling emptiness in her chest where her heart was supposed to be. She wondered if he slept easily now, or if he was still an insomniac like he used to be. It hurt too much to consider. She looked up and forced herself to speak, well against her will. “Ready?”

“Oh, hey Rena.” Camden smiled softly, waving awkwardly. “Hey Sully.”

“Hey kid, been a while,” Rena gave him the slightest something of a smile. Her face resumed it’s neutral expression. “How’ve you been?”

The walk down to the barn continued like that, three old friends catching up. They were all frozen by the time they made it to the bottom of the hill, but it didn’t make sense to wait for a car to warm up, and they all needed the exercise. When they reached the barn, they found two twin girls standing near a buckskin mare, and no suspicious activity.

“Hey girls,” Rena greeted calmly. She wasn’t cold, just…Rena. She and Sullivan gave off the same quiet, professional energy. Camden stood beside them shyly, eyes wandering down the aisle way. He had never been the most socially attentive person, mainly due to the fact that his mother was Emily Blue. She could talk for hours without getting tired, and he rarely piped up and contributed to any kind of conversation, especially in this environment. “Is it just you down here?”

Camden’s eyes wandered until he found a smashed cell phone in many pieces on the ground a few stalls down. There was glass and broken pieces all over the ground, it was obvious something violent had occurred. He tuned any remaining attention he was giving to the conversation out, kneeling down to study the phone. He heard Sullivan say Rena’s name and gesture to what he was doing, but he didn’t look up. Vaguely, he retained something one of the girls had said about a man going into one of the tack rooms. He didn’t make any movement to follow them in, gently picking up the phone pieces in his hand and putting them in his pocket to throw away. He was off in his own little world.

Meanwhile, Rena walked over to one of the nearby tack rooms, finding a young man Camden’s age sitting on the floor, staring blankly at the wall. “Sullivan,” she said urgently, gesturing to the man.

“I’ll go,” he said eagerly, afraid to put anyone else in harm’s way. When he got to the door, he realized he recognized the kid. “No wonder,” he muttered under his breath. With Cyrus Eliopoulos as his stepfather, Sullivan wondered how the kid had made it this long. He entered the tack room gently, sitting down across the room from him. He didn’t know his name or any of the details, he just knew he was one of Cyrus’ kids. Sullivan’s best friend growing up ended up working for the boy’s stepfather, which he had narrowly avoided. It was a blessing he hadn’t realized until after the fact, when she began revealing the family secrets to him on their weekly calls.

“Hey,” Sullivan said softly. “You okay, kid?” He’d adopted Rena’s word, mostly accidentally. It felt foreign in his mouth.

Jensen looked up for a second, then dropped his gaze again. His limbs burned from the heat of the tack room, though he was finally beginning to get movement and circulation back in them. “Living the dream,” he shot back callously. “Why are you here?”

“Honestly? Some of the other riders here were concerned about you. Personally? Because I can see you’re struggling, I know who your father is, and I can’t imagine what’s going on in your head right now. And even though I don’t know, I want to help.”

“Why?”

“I know more than you think. Maeve was my best friend. The equestrian circles run smaller than they seem.”

“I’m sorry,” he said softly, more tenderly than it seemed possible considering his flat expression. It looked a lot like Rena’s, like the face of someone who had been through unspeakable things.

“I’m not,” he replied, getting up to stand beside Jensen. “And she wouldn’t want you to be, either. Let’s go up to the house, alright? We can raid the mess hall and you can fill me in on whatever’s going on.” Sullivan offered the boy his hand. “But only if you want to–only if you’ll let me.”

“Okay,” he agreed, too dejected to decline the offer. He swayed slightly when he stood up, dizzy from low blood sugar. Sullivan steadied him, and they walked out to find Rena and Camden.

–

“Why’d you leave White Oaks so abruptly?” Camden asked, finishing sweeping the aisle. Rena moved the bucket back to its place, helping the boy clean. She paled at that question, just as Sullivan and the other man emerged from the tack room. Perfect timing, she thought, but he was persistent. “I asked a couple people, but nobody had a straight answer.”

Sullivan realized what was happening, and he made eye contact with Rena before inserting himself into the conversation, silently ensuring he was doing the right thing. “Camden, this is Jensen. Jensen, Camden.”

“Hey,” Camden greeted. Jensen stared blankly, silently. Rena barely noticed.

As they reached the end of the aisle again, Sullivan glanced over at the girls. “Thanks for your help, girls. If you need anything, feel free to give us a ring. Our numbers are on the board, and posted in the house, alright?”

The walk up was silent, for Rena and Jensen by choice, and for Sullivan and Camden by virtue. When they reached the top, Sullivan and Jensen broke off, headed towards Kirche. The instructor made it clear that it wasn’t a good idea for Camden to tag along on this particular adventure, and Rena excused herself, explaining that there was something she had to do. Yet, when she actually thought about doing what she had considered, everything in her told her it was a terrible idea. Instead, she went up, changed her clothes, and found herself in the large gym in the main wing, inflicting physical pain on herself through exercise in order to block anything else out of her mind.

Random error here

Medaia + Lilianna Claeys | M: Jensen / Camden / Sullivan / Rena

A moment after the crashing of the man’s phone into the floor, he had disappeared into another room and the girls had gone back to fawning over Sunny, silently deciding that this wasn’t something they needed to involve themselves in.

“Some interesting characters around here, that's for sure…” Lilianna mumbled now that the third in the barn had gone elsewhere. She had said it more to herself than to her sister, and wasn’t surprised when Medaia didn’t respond. Lilianna could see her sister had gone back to patting her mare, looking her over intently as she did so, as if she were going to find some mark on the mare that hadn’t been there the last time they had seen each other.

A few minutes later, Medaia ducked out of Sunny’s stall and latched it shut, whispering good night to the mare, before turning back to her sister. “So, who did they assign you? Who’s going to be Sunny’s trail buddy?” Medaia was giddy with excitement, nearly bouncing as she brought her hands together in front of her in tiny, soundless claps of joy as her mind began to run wild with imagined horses her sister might be assigned.

Lilianna didn’t get the chance to answer before more people joined them in the barn, not a single one of them a familiar face; not that they were expecting any familiar faces. A woman’s voice saying hello drew the twins’ attention towards the group. Lilianna nodded hello, smiling politely.

“Hi!” Medaia called in a singsong tone, waving quickly at the group, a beaming smile on her face. “I’m Medaia, and this is Lilianna.” She shot a thumb in her sister's direction. “It’s not just us. There was a guy. He uh,” She turned, trying to remember which room he had disappeared into. “He went…that way.” Medaia pointed indistinctly down the hall, and offered a shrug.

“He threw his phone, it's on the floor there.” Lilianna added, pointing to where the phone had been abandoned in pieces on the floor beyond them. When she withdrew her hand, she crossed her arms loosely over her chest, and watched as the group moved slowly down the hall and dispersed. Almost like how a swat team moved in movies, but less organised in this case.

As the group began to move away from the girls, assumingly looking for the man who they had just seen, Medaia caught Lilianna’s attention, and stepped close to her, whispering. “Who do you think they are?”

“Do we really care tonight? Just let them do their thing, and when they find him we’ll go back to our rooms and call Mom, I’m sure she’s been up all night waiting for a call, and to gossip about first impressions of the place. We can meet people tomorrow, they don’t seem too keen on talking right now.” Lilianna said neutrally.

“Fair enough. I should take some pictures of Sunny to send Mom tomorrow.”

The girls fell silent, and waited for the group to come back from their search for the stranger. When they did, and one of the men spoke, it was Lilianna who answered him. “You’re welcome, sir. We’ll mark down the numbers when we go back up, thank you.” she nodded to him, and watched them leave. About five minutes later, Medaia asked if her sister was ready to leave the barn.

“Yeah, let’s head out. I don’t remember what stall I’m looking for anyway.” Lilianna shrugged, uncrossing her arms. She turned over her shoulder to Sunny, who had now busied herself with munching on some hay. “G’night Sunny-girl.” Medaia uttered a goodbye as well, and then the twins headed off back towards the house.

The trek back up the hill was worse than the trek down, and instead of holding onto each other the twins were grabbing at tree trunks and branches to steady themselves as they moved up the slick hill.

“This is borderline torture,” Medaia huffed, “why did we walk down here? Oh lord, we’re going to have to do that again tomorrow, and the day after, and the day-”

“Medaia, please,” Lilianna was twenty feet ahead, standing in the middle of the path looking back at her. “If you don’t stop complaining I’ll shove you back down the hill and you can start over. Practice makes perfect, right? Practice walking up the hill.”

“You suck.”

Soon, they had made it back to the house, and had found their way back to their rooms entirely by chance. On the way, they stopped and took a photo of the board that contained the phone numbers they had been told about, planning to add them into their phones from the safety of one of their rooms. Medaia joined Lilianna in her room, and together they face timed their mother.

Alexander Littlewood | Ivan, Rena, Sullivan

Of the little that Alex could both remember and chose to, the trip was exhausting. Between watching Rena’s chaotic younger brother who showed none of his two decades of maturity and the stress of travelling at all, he was convinced that if they didn’t reach their destination soon, he was going to fall asleep in the car. And that, quite frankly, was the worst possible situation. He wanted to rest - no, needed - but around Rena, around the one person he used to trust - still trusted - to see him without any guards down, it would surely be fatal. She’d made him feel truly secure for the first time in his life, and now even that was gone. (Maybe, beneath the years of grief and hiding and scars that made the Alex he was today, there was still some part of him that wanted to let go, have someone else take over the impossible task of keeping him safe.)

Another upheaval of the shrivelled life he’d tried to call his own, and that wasn’t even the main thing on his mind.

Four flights and an overly long drive later, the building loomed in front of them like some guardian angel gone wrong. Alex couldn’t help but wince at the sight; the architecture and the scenery surrounding it was perfectly in place - too much so. It made his skin crawl. The sole purpose of the property’s grandeur seemed to be to highlight his own inadequacies, his own messiness. There was no alternate universe where he’d be enough to fill the gaping expectations that the building alone threw on him.

He glanced at Rena without thinking, half to seek reassurance - as if, after all that had gone down, she’d ever offer that - and half to see her reaction. If she had one; he hadn’t seen her outwardly feel anything in a while now. She seemed the same kind of skin-deep shaken that he was. (He had to hate himself for making that comparison, for making any sort of comparison between Rena and him. He had no right.) It was nothing incredibly deep nor permanent, but he couldn’t help but think that this was the kind of restlessness that would linger however long he happened to stay here for. This, of all the places he’d tried to call home in the last decade or so, was something that could never accept him.

Alex shrugged, his expression barely changing. Her words had only reinforced his judgement - was it so bad of him to feel the vaguest sense of familiarity from the fact that after all this time, he could still read her? “Yeah,” he responded absently, eyes scattering from her to their surroundings. He didn’t dare hold her gaze for more than a moment.

He almost said something true, something more than the halfhearted gestures he’d offered her on the occasion she had to ask a question, when they entered the foyer. It felt wrong to stand beside her, see her flinch, and not say a thing. The words almost tumbled out of his mouth before he remembered his place; they weren’t close enough to say something like that. (The anymore was a shadow that he didn’t need to think of for it to follow, unsummoned.) Or maybe they were so close that they could hardly bear to speak of it.

Either way, Alex was a moment away from saying something he’d regret and that Rena probably would too. Instead, he settled for a vaguely concerned glance down at her shoulder.

“I wondered when you two’d show up!”

Sullivan’s greeting abruptly interrupted them, though there was hardly anything to interrupt. Alex had almost forgotten that he’d moved here too; he’d seen his name, but it was still a shock to see him in the flesh. Sullivan, and the other White Oaks riders he’d noticed on the rooming arrangements, belonged to a different part of his life, and it’d have been great if they could have kept inside that box. (It’d been awkward enough, talking to Emily and then Kholo over the phone about moving to Stadt. He never knew what explanation Rena had given the latter about his disappearance, and he couldn’t ask without inviting another hoard of questions.)

It shouldn’t have hurt as much as it did that Rena moved to hug him almost instinctively. It looked like it came more naturally than anything between them ever had.

“Sullivan. Long time no see,” Alex offered him a forced smile without an inch of humour in his tone or lack thereof. He didn’t want to be involved in this conversation for any longer than the bare minimum, and the sooner he could communicate that with the other man, the better. Once Rena began crying, the need to run only increased. With a few murmurs and absolutely no explanation to Sullivan about her tears, he excused himself from the situation as quickly as he could.

———

By the time he’d found his horse, familiarised himself with the yard layout, and unpacked his bags, it was well past nightfall. Alex found himself in his room without any previous knowledge of doing so, and discovered quickly that whichever part of his brain had made that particular decision, it’d been a bad one.

He couldn’t rest; not in this room that wouldn’t let him breathe. He wished he could blame it all on the new surroundings, the bed he still had to get used to, the crisp linen that made him want to rip his skin apart more than usual, but it would’ve been a lie. (If he was being honest, he hadn’t even tried the bed for more than a few minutes before accepting its uselessness.) He didn’t know the property well enough to wander its trails - at all, for that matter - and after multiple flights and too much overhanging emotion, he didn’t want to muster up the energy to do so. Still, it was futile to even try to fall asleep. Leaving himself to his own mind unless he was sure he’d pass out within minutes was dangerous. And if only for a few days, if only long enough to make it to try-outs and reintroductions with Emily without collapsing into his next nervous break, he was determined to try. Whatever it took, whether it meant midnight runs or avoiding all companionship or resorting to less-than-healthy coping mechanisms, he had to keep himself in a place where he didn’t emanate “completely deranged” to whoever he met.

And if that meant leaving this room before he did anything worse than the line of indents along his arm from his nails, that was just how it would have to be. (Some removed part of him found it funny that in less than a day, he’d already found some bad connotations to give the room he’d have to live in for the next limited while.) He’d figure everything else out from there; he’d have to. The only saving grace of the property so far was that here, unlike at White Oaks, he had a space to himself. There were no roommates that could be woken up by his odd comings and goings, killed by a gang their siblings were involved in, or coerced into killing themselves. It was the little things, he thought. This time round, he was going to do his damndest to avoid that kind of drama.

Grabbing his phone and tossing on a jacket, Alex slipped into the corridor. At this time of day - what was it, midnight? One? - its silence was to his liking; clearly, the borderline orgies that White Oaks had been famous for had yet to erupt in Stadt. For now, at least, everyone appeared to be sleeping or absent. He couldn’t care less either way, as long as no one had the audacity to approach him - or, worse still, talk to him. If anyone were to emerge from their rooms, they’d have seen nothing more than a shadow on the walls. (Hood up, hands in his pockets, he was convinced he might get questioned as a stalker if that did end up happening.)

Somehow, his luck held. Despite almost getting lost and stumbling against one door in his confusion - it was a wonder that their inhabitants had managed to stay sleeping with the string of curses he hissed between clenched teeth - he made it downstairs unnoticed. It was embarrassing that after that one incident, he was still nursing his shoulder, which made it all the better that no one saw him. At the ripe old age of twenty-six, he’d broken enough bones to feel like an old man.

Though the corridors had been empty, a thin strip of light shone through from beneath one of the double doors that led off from the main passage. He hadn’t explored the property enough to be able to figure out what any of those rooms were supposed to be - the map he’d lost within two hours of receiving it probably would’ve helped, in hindsight - and so, the only reasonable solution to this was to try every one of them to figure out which were still unlocked. Maybe it was the night air, maybe it was the sleep deprivation, or maybe it was just the fact that sometimes without his permission, his rationality went on a holiday and the child he’d never been allowed to be took over; but regardless of the cause, he was wrenching each door handle with a kind of impulsive thrill. The first was a store cupboard, which only slightly dulled his interest. He refused to call it excitement; it was more of a slightly manic desire to understand more, to know. It’d always been like this; when he could sense an answer just out of reach, he couldn’t give up, couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, until he found it.

It was almost disappointing, then, when the lit-up room opened easily. Fingers fumbling with the handle, he half-stumbled - again - into the room. (Vaguely, he remembered that he needed to fix himself before he messed up this fresh start, but he ignored it as quickly as it appeared.)

He eased himself against the wall, still slightly disoriented. Maybe if he could breathe a little, he could calm his racing heart. Maybe if he rested here for a second - no longer, of course, it was too early to sleep yet - he’d find control of himself; and maybe all of this was why it took him a moment longer than he’d have liked to notice the other presence in the room.

Even while slightly out of it, Alex recognised her instantly. He had to, after everything that had passed between them over the last couple years. (He wasn’t sure whether that counted as a long time or not, given that much of it was spent separated, missing, or purposefully avoiding one another.) She seemed utterly focused on her work-out, which must’ve been how she’d managed to miss his clumsy entrance.

All it would take was a sentence to catch her attention. Her name, a greeting, some half-assed apology that would only serve as a plaster over a festering wound. Just a word, and she’d look at him. That was all he needed, really. After that, he could let go of the idea of her as well as Rena herself, and maybe he’d stop feeling an ache whenever she held herself away from him or stopped laughing if he entered the room or hugged Sullivan with far more ease than anything about them had ever had.

Maybe, somehow, he could move on.

But by the time seven minutes had ticked by without her registering him in any way, something began to feel off. She wasn’t focused; she wasn’t even seeing anything else. Her enthusiasm towards the task wasn’t even that. It was oddly familiar in a way that alarmed him more than anything else. (Somehow, even though he already knew it, seeing her share the same negative sides as him was terrifying, and made him understand just a little more why people were so concerned when they saw his arms. It was more distressing to watch someone else inflict pain upon themselves than to feel it himself. He wasn’t sure whether to interrupt, or whether they were in a place where it was appropriate to interrupt, but either way, he had to.

“Rena.” His voice was too soft for her to properly hear, but maybe something else had caught her attention. She looked up as he reached her, cautious to keep a fair distance between them.

“Rena,” he repeated. Only now was he realising that he hadn’t planned any further than this. “I mean, it’s mainly redundant - but are you okay?” he finished falteringly, risking a flicker of eye contact as he spoke.

Stephanie Reynolds | deep blue eyes | M: open

The young girl looked around sighing as she stroked her blue roan stallions nose soon heading to the tackroom as she hummed to herself upon her arrival to the tackroom she started to clean her Jett black saddle and bridle she looked down as she tapped her foot looking at the entrance of the tack room then at the clock wondering when it would be the best time to get out of the barn once done she got up placing the saddle and bridle on the rack and leaving the tackroom soon going back to see blue placing a nylon blue halter on his head and leading him out to toward the cross ties grabbing a grooming box on the way there starting to hum to herself again as she brushed the blue roan stallion.

Rena | Alex, Alex, Emily, Jensen, Sully, all trainers, and more (just read it rip)

Rena thought she’d heard something, but she’d turned her airpods too loud to block out the noise in her head, and she was purposefully trying to ignore the eerie feeling that seemed to perpetually linger in this building. The temperature seemed to fluctuate constantly, and it felt as if something was lurking around every corner. Of course, paired with everything she had been through, it made her not only doubt her safety but her sanity. She couldn’t tell what was her and what was real. She couldn’t tell anything, and she hadn’t been able to in a long time.

She was purposefully trying to focus on the dumbbells she was lifting instead of looking over her shoulder every few seconds. She felt the instinctual urge to run. She wanted to keep running until she found someone to protect her. But when she thought about who might, she knew she could only protect herself. Sullivan was a good person, but clearly in love with her. In fairness, Alex was equally both of those things too. She exhaled and glanced in the mirror to her right, catching a tall, dark figure in the doorway. She gasped and dropped both weights, narrowly missing her feet. She spun around quickly, pale, catching her breath.

“Rena.”

“Jesus, Alex. You scared me.”

“I mean, it’s mainly redundant - but are you okay?”

She sighed, picking up the weights off the floor and avoiding his gaze. She felt like crying, but she didn’t show it. Their relationship was more complicated than she could put words to, but he was forcing her hand, asking her to try. “I don’t know how to salvage our relationship, Alex. My mind’s a mess. I’m not capable of making good choices.” She wiped the sweat off her forehead with her sleeve. “Walking around here avoiding you doesn’t feel right, but neither does anything else. Nothing has felt right for a long time. But I don’t know how to move past this point.” She laid down on the floor, staring up at the ceiling. Every once in a while, she glanced up at him. “I think we have to make a conscious choice to go back to where we left off however many years ago. Before Romania. Before all the death and dying and sadness and love and loss. I think I need you to be my best friend’s roommate, and I think I need to be your roommate’s best friend who sometimes knocks on your door at three in the morning. And I think we just need to start over, and go from there. But I don’t know if we’re ready. Think about it, okay? I don’t want an answer right now. I want to know you’re really ready. I think I’m starting to get to the other side of all of this, but I won’t take you with me if you’re not ready to go.” She stood back up and met his eyes, a glimmer of her spirit returning. She smiled softly, melancholically, pressing a lingering kiss to his cheek as she left. “I love you,” she whispered softly. Even if she didn’t completely feel it, she knew she meant it. She knew it was more of a choice than a feeling.

As she made her way back to her room, she texted Sullivan. After the adrenaline she’d gotten from exercising, she felt too alive to sleep, and she assumed he was still up. She wasn’t even sure if he was back yet from bringing Jensen to the dining hall.

[Rena]: hey, are you still up?

[Sullivan]: Yeah. Everything okay?

[Rena]: yes! can i come over or are you too tired? i don’t mind if you are, i just can’t sleep :) please don’t worry ab me if you need sleep. ik you have your lil eventing tryouts tma.

[Sullivan]: No, I’m plenty alright. Come on over :)

[Rena]: awesome, i’ll be over in a few!! you’re the best!!

Rena walked down the hall to the showers, returned, brushed her hair, braided it, and changed into a loose t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants from her time on the White Oaks show jumping team. When she finally got organized and went to knock on Sullivan’s door, she could hear him hastily attempting to clean his room, knocking things over in the process and swearing loudly enough that she could hear from the door. She smiled to herself, waiting another few seconds before knocking. He yelled out that he’d be there in a minute, and she stood, arms crossed, a small smile on her typically expressionless face. “Take your time,” she replied, “after all, it’s not like we’ve been friends for years and I totally don’t care what state your room is in.”

He rushed to the door, breathing ragged. He smiled weakly, his expression sheepish. Clearly, he was embarrassed. She just smiled up at him mischievously. “Are you sure I can enter now? Everything’s in the right place? You’re good? After all, this is a well-past-midnight room inspection and not two old friends catching up.”

She watched his face grow a few shades redder. Or maybe paler. She couldn’t really tell in the dimly-lit hallway. “Very funny,” he replied, stepping aside and gesturing for her to enter. “Sorry about the lack of lighting. The roads have been too bad to go furniture shopping and this old building is barely getting by.”

“You know I’m not judging you, right? My room looks exactly the same way. If you want, we can hang out in there instead.”

“No, come on in.” He smiled softly, shifting in place as she looked around. “In theory, I’ve stuff in from Ireland soon, but with this weather, not soon enough.”

“That’s nice,” she said softly, “I brought all I own in about two suitcases.” She settled in the corner of the room on the floor, tucked in a blanket she’d brought over from her room.

“You can sit-”

“I like the floor, sit with me?”

“Very well.” He sat down beside her, arms crossed. “Whatever happened to you, anyway? Where’s life taken you? And how’d you end up here?”

She looked up at him, smiling sleepily. “That’s a long story, but in essence…”

–

Rena and Sullivan talked until the early morning hours, only getting an hour or two of sleep each. By six the next morning, they were both up, called into an emergency meeting prior to the start of the day. Somehow, Rena had been roped into leading the tryouts for the hunter jumper teams, and even the one for her own section. Somehow, she already knew this was Emily’s sly way of roping her into far more responsibility than she had initially agreed to, but she didn’t turn away from it. She woke up feeling better than she had felt in months, despite feeling physically awful from the lack of sleep and the excessive work she’d put in at the gym the evening prior. After the emergency meeting, she joined the real meeting, complete with a clipboard, merchandise Emily had created for the trainers she didn’t even know existed, and her fourth cup of coffee for the morning. Like children, Sullivan and Rena were playing a drinking came with the coffee, each taking a big swig every time Emily attempted to manipulate someone into doing more than they were initially supposed to, and taking another one every time someone agreed. It became evident that, though everyone was putting on a good show, Stadt was severely understaffed and was running on dangerously low levels of workers. Though Sullivan had initially declared he was going to try out for the ‘B’ team and volunteer as a substitute trainer for the ‘C’ level eventers, Emily voluntold him he was automatically being sent to the ‘A’ team, no questions asked, and he was going to be the head coach of the ‘B’ team permanently, and the ‘C’ team temporarily. Rena stayed quiet, guzzling another cup of coffee and wondering if she should switch to decaf. Emily was right, her reasoning was all logical, and she knew Sullivan was being put where he was meant to be. She wondered if he felt the same way when she was placed as ‘B’ SJ trainer, and ‘A-C’ Hunter/Eq trainer, with an automatic placement to the ‘A’ SJ team and the expectation of competing any spare Hunter and Equitation horses on the side. Somehow, on top of all of this, she was supposed to be a sports psychologist. She quickly recognized that any personal plans she’d had for the next year were going to be going out the window.

By nine, they switched meeting rooms, and all the trainers dispersed to allocated areas to do a meet-and-greet with their teams prior to the riding tryouts. The outdoor arena was finally thawing out enough to be used before the next snowstorm blew in the following day, so every team was in a rush to use the arena and get their teams placed before team workouts and scrimmages began. Due to her large masses of responsibility, Rena ended up having the ring first for the hunter and equitation riders, and ran so efficiently in both the meeting and the tryouts that she was able to leave the ring open for thirty minutes for anyone to hack their horses that was not trying out for a team, or had already decided to be on a ‘C’ team. Primarily, this resulted in the trainers hacking their horses. Rena located Chai, who was absolutely massive and had fallen into her care after a meeting the day prior with Sullivan and Alex, in which Emily gave the three of them the choice between four horses, explaining that she wanted to take them each to the top. After Rena’s experience with Chai and Sullivan’s experience with Vaughn, they decided it may be best to switch. Chai was too long and too big for Rena to control, and would be much more successful under Sullivan’s riding. Rena wasn’t pleased with Vaughn either, but she was silently hoping Alex would feel the same way about his mount and she could switch again. She knew the fourth horse had gone to Conrad, and she desperately hoped with everything in her being she wouldn’t have to ask him for that favor. He was someone she knew she didn’t want to owe.

Due to the gap in her schedule and her immediate dislike of Spencer, who she would have to deal with for at least a handful of hours for the sake of placing the Show Jumping group into an ‘A’ and a ‘B,’ and, in fairness, the rest of her life for as long as she was on the SJ team with Spencer as her trainer, Rena easily agreed to help Sullivan with his eventing tryouts, both because she knew he needed the help, and because she wanted to see if Alex was going to be a good fit with his mare. Because of the time constraints and the lengthy process required to test all three sections of eventing, Rena and Sullivan agreed that it would be smarter for them to have their tryouts first, and their meeting with the riders second. That way, they could introduce themselves, explain the schedule and the other housekeeping rules for the eventers, and reveal who made which teams all at once. It was an easy trade-off, and it gave them a little time to breathe while the riders tacked up. They stood, huddled to one side of the arena, looking in to ensure all of the riders were doing well with finding everything. To their surprise, Jensen came up to them from the walkway, hands shoved in the pockets of a jacket Rena knew was Camden’s. The entire story made a lot more sense to her after her conversation with Sullivan the night prior about him, his family, and Sullivan’s affiliation to his family. She smiled at him gently, “hey kid, what’s up?”

“Hey,” he said softly, watching her suspiciously, coldly. She knew what it was like to be him. Way better than he thought. “Sullivan, can I talk to you? Alone?”

“Rena’s good people, Jensen. I’d trust her with my life.”

“That’s nice,” he deadpanned, not one bit sold. “I’d still like to talk to you alone, over there. Thanks.” He shot Rena a look as he passed, and the pair exchanged a look. She encouraged Sullivan to go, and he did, mumbling an apology on the boy’s behalf. Both of them returned, Sullivan standing in the middle, Jensen as far from Rena as possible. He was silent, Sullivan mumbled an explanation of Jensen’s concern about the level of talent and compatibility the rider assigned to his horses had.

“Prick,” Rena mumbled under her breath, primarily silently.

“You’re bleeding,” Jensen responded, without looking up. “I suggest you get that checked out.”

It sounded like a threat, and it made Rena’s blood run cold. But, when she glanced down, she saw nothing. “Your arm,” he said, more clearly. When she looked down again, she saw drips of blood running down her forearm. It was so cold out, she’d mistaken the burning in her forearm for the frigid climate rather than whatever she’d done to gain the cut. It wasn’t bad, but it was certainly bleeding enough for her to need to get it cleaned up.

“Damn, you’re right. Where’s the medic? I don’t have anything to clean this up with.”

“I haven’t a single clue,” Sullivan murmured, concern etched on his features. “You’ll be okay, right?”

“No, I’m gonna bleed out right here and die on the ground.” No indication of humor met her features. She sighed gently, then replied, “I’m fine, it’s not that bad. Two bandaids and a little gauze, at most. Just for the bleeding, not for the severity. Text me and let me know what happens with Alex and Luné if I don’t make it back, alright? I’ll be screwed if the medic is hellbent on stitches, and they usually are, so, call me.”

After leaving Sullivan and Jensen, Rena wandered around for what felt like more than an hour before she bumped into Emily. By that point, her entire forearm was covered in blood that seeped out from beneath her big waterproof jacket, leaving the seriousness of the little slice up to the imagination of whoever noticed. By that point, Rena was just desperate to get it cleaned up, and was practically begging for directions to the medic from between Emily’s commentaries of how it looked really bad and was she really okay. It’d certainly been worse, more often than she could recall. This wasn’t even making her lightheaded.

Finally, she made it to the secret office off of Barn B, angry at herself for not seeing it sooner. She made a mental note to tell Emily to mark it more clearly. Luckily, this time was minor, but if it had been a different rider with a worse injury, it could have been a much worse situation. In an instant, she burst through the doors, looking for someone who looked capable of following her directions. To her surprise, only one man lingered in the building. After some thought, she realized it made sense, given the massive understaffing crises just discussed. Very clearly and calmly, she said, “My name is Katarena Suta, I have hemophilia, and I need very basic wound care, no stitches. Not because I don’t want them, because it’s not worth your time or my time. What I am about to show you looks a lot worse than it is. I would appreciate if you would hand me an elastic band to replace my jacket with before I sit down.” She looked him directly in the eye, “please and thank you. Nice to meet you, by the way. You’ll be seeing a lot of me.”

Alexander Bleu| Dite & Rena

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Alex sat on the stool, talking with Dite. The pair had been trying to get his brother, Jackson, to join them overseas. They hadn't even been there very long yet. His blonde companion sat on the counter, swinging her legs. She had made the excuse of rolling her ankle to come and talk to him. "It would be a lot easier if he was here. Then I'd have someone to talk to while we ride." She sighed. Alex knew very well she hadn't even tried talking to anyone yet. He'd known her too long for that. She would wait about a week and then approach who she wished to be associated with. She got that from her parents. Businessmen.

.

"You're going for A, right?" He continued after she nodded. "How do you know that he'd make A? Hmm?" She tilted her head and gave him a look. Jack took Riding to a religious level, or he did for awhile. Mom was happy because it kept him out of trouble. Alex sighed, standing up to get some blood movement going. "I'll talk to him tonight after my call with Charlie."

.

Dite grinned, jumping off the counter. "Thanks, hun. And tell Charlie Auntie says hello!" She said, waving as she made her way out of the clinic.

.

Alex sighed, placing his hands on his hips. He had to talk to Jackson anyways. In terms that did not revolve around Dite's social life. But nevertheless, he appreciated her daily visits. He wasn't very busy. Hopefully his mom didn't view this as wasting his doctorate. Geez. He needed to talk to her too. In fact, he was about to whip out his phone when someone burst through the doors of the office in a rush. She was very clear about what she needed. Emily had told him that there was a rider with hemophilia when he joined, he just didn't expect to see her so soon. He handed her the elastic and set to finding the proper things to clean and dress the wounds.

.

Once she finished replacing her jacket, he thoroughly cleaned the area. "Geez, Katarena. What did you do?" He asked as he started to dress it, wrapping the bandages with some tape for extra measure. "I was told about you but I wasn't expecting you so soon if I'm being honest. It's been slow," he said, walking over to the sink to give his hands a good wash. "Please try to be careful and don't hesitate to come back if you need new bandages. How bad is your hemophilia?" He asked her. As a doctor he had stopped using the phrase "if you're willing to tell" unless it was for special cases. Anything else (medical wise) was best for the doctor to know. Once he dried his hands, he turned to face her and waiting for her to respond with the need to know medical information.

.

Dite|Johnny| Alex(B) and Rena;Open

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After she left Alex to fend for himself, she watched as a woman with blood running down her arms passed walked by. The blonde had started to miss her big golden Gelding so that's where she was headed. Johnny never really liked the cold weather, then again...neither did she. So why was she? Because Jack showed her the brochure. Because Jack said it would be a good opportunity. Because Jack made it sound like he was coming. If someone could explain why she would want to be here otherwise, they were welcome to.

.

Dite sighed, zipping up her jacket and yanking on a wool hat to cover her ears before she walked outside and made a beeline for the barn holding Johnny. She stopped in front of the Gelding. He looked at her and snorted. Dite huffed, "Yeah. Good to see you too, Johnny. Whatcha been up to?" She asked, standing on her tip toes to reach behind his ears and give a good scratch. As the Gelding leaned into her hand she let out a laugh. "Now you like me again, hmm?" She said. Dite then proceeded to tell the horse about her day so far and talk about how cold it was outside right now.

Rena | Doctor Alex, Sully

As the young woman sat at the doctor’s work station, she watched him clean the wound. A sharp pain radiated from the cut on her forearm all the way down to her fingers and up to her shoulder, but she was used to that by now. It was made worse by the thawing of her limbs being in a warm room and away from the cold that had numbed it and slowed the bleeding for the past hour or two. The longer she remained in the temperature-controlled room, the more profusely blood dripped down her forearm, ruining the area he was trying to clean. She thought it should bother her or make her uneasy, but by now, she was desensitized to the idea that her body was trying to shut itself down. Regardless, the thought remained that it was a good thing she wasn’t afraid of or uneasy around blood.

"Geez, Katarena. What did you do?"

“I don’t know,” she replied flatly. She didn’t like the fact that he used her whole name, but it was what she had given him. She resisted the urge to allow her face to loudly display her thoughts about the man, but only partially succeeded. The twitching of her left eyebrow and the crinkling of her nose were unavoidable. “This kind of thing, it happens all the time.” She didn’t owe him any more explanation. Even the effort of a second sentence was icing on the cake. She stared coldly at his hands and their movements to fix her arm.

"I was told about you but I wasn't expecting you so soon if I'm being honest. It's been slow.”

Not many things could get a reaction out of Rena at this point, but that statement certainly did. Her head shot up, and despite the icy, defensive aura that she’d had up for the entirety of the visit, she tempered her physical reaction. “Who told you about me?”

Out of all of her years of working and studying in places with an in-house medic for instances exactly like these, she’d never heard a doctor utter those words before. The idea of someone mentioning her medical information to the doctor behind her back was a complete and total breach of privacy, especially in a workplace setting. But, it was exactly like Emily. Or even Sullivan, if he got concerned enough. The former would be expected, the latter would disappoint her.

"Please try to be careful and don't hesitate to come back if you need new bandages. How bad is your hemophilia?"

“It’s…hemophilia,” she deadpanned. “You’ll be able to form your own opinion over the next few weeks, I’m sure.” She thought she’d made it clear that she wasn’t willing to divulge any unnecessary information. And, how rude of him to ask without offering her an out. “Thank you for your assistance,” she added curtly, feeling her phone vibrate in her pocket. She took it out and saw a series of texts in the group chat, primarily from lost and confused riders who didn’t know where they were supposed to be and at what time, and from trainers who had no more information than their riders did. The text at the top was the one she was looking for, however. It was the only one she had left notifications on for. Well, besides the other person she always left notifications on for, primarily due to their infrequent quantity and the air of importance that typically shrouded them. This message regarded both.

[Sullivan]: Tough luck. The try out went swimmingly. I guess now we can only hope for worse luck for Conrad?