heaven help me for the way i am

[Deamon]

There it was.

Full confirmation of what had been going on and for how long. The emotions within him shifted as they both stood there. Her arms crossed in front of her body, her eyes unable to meet his. Bret's eyes narrowed as his gaze stayed fixed.

"Alright then."

And then he was gone from the room. The steps he took through Connor's house were deliberate, guided by purpose. There was only one person he needed to see and they weren't hard to find.

Sure enough, he found his brother quickly.

He was in a group with his back to him. Drinking and talking his regular shit. No care or attention really being paid to the world around him besides the faintest amount of acknowledgment. Bret approached him and placed a hand on Wyatt's shoulder in order to get his twins attention.

When Wyatt turned he inclined his head to the door that led to Connor's yard.

"You, come with me."

[Cactus]

Holy fucking shit.

The only three words that repeated through Connor Lorenzen's head throughout the entire trainwreck of a conversation that he'd borne witness to were stuck, over and over like a skipping record player. The glass in his hands felt heavy as he watched Bret leave, jaw open in utter disbelief.

Ivy. And Wyatt?

It took a moment, but Connor was finally able to grab at least some control of his faculties to look in Ivy's direction and shoot her the most disdainful, disappointed look he could muster. When they had broken up, things had been tough for a week or two, but as far as break-ups had gone it was never hurtful between them. When Bret and Ivy had gotten together, Connor had been okay with it - nothing had ever been that serious and besides, he had Madison.

Good God was he happy to have Madison right about now.

Everything fit, the pieces in his mind; all of the clues started making sense. The veiled comments during the dance. Ivy and Wyatt going off together in the Truth or Dare game. Wyatt's reticence to be around whenever Bret and Ivy were in the same room... he was floored by the revelation. Lifting the heavy glass to his mouth, he took a long, strong sip.

The liquor burned going down his throat.

"I sure hope you're proud of yourself," he offered, the warmth gone from his words. It was all that he could say to her.

As far as he was concerned, she was no longer welcome here.

Connor took another sip of the fiery alcohol. He'd finish his drink and then probably have to try and stop his two best friends from killing one another. He didn't even know what he'd say to the other twin. Wyatt's culpability aside, this was now going to be a long night of damage control.

What a disaster.

[backslash]

((Myles Roux continued from Bloom))

...Wow, it was time to leave!

Everything had been pretty good for Myles right up until he stumbled into this conversation, and then he had just stood there off to the side in frozen horror. He could have averted this disaster, maybe, but he doubted it. Nothing he said in the moment was going to fix things; at best, it'd be slapping a band-aid on a bullet wound.

No, it was time for damage control.

He'd left Declyn for the moment to head over here when he sensed disaster brewing from the looks and words exchanged, so he'd just have to send a text that he was tending to Ivy for the minute, and he'd be back once she was taken care of. Declyn would get it. Just a little hiccup.

Myles sidled up to Ivy as soon as Bret's attention was elsewhere, looping his arm into hers without a greeting. "Hey, let's go." He dragged her away without waiting for an answer.

They wove through the people milling around, Myles pulling Ivy with him, until finally reaching the front door. "Lemme see your phone, I'll call you an Uber or something." He probably should have said something comforting, or maybe asked what the heck she was even thinking, but Ivy was drunk anyway and probably wouldn't even remember most of this in the morning. Besides that, she had sunk into sulk mode; she didn't say anything while he booked her ride and then handed her phone back.

He didn't want to break the silence, so they stood arm in arm on the front porch, Ivy leaning on Myles more heavily than usual, until the car rolled up. Myles walked her to it and took her face in his hands before opening the door and bundling her inside. "Go home, get sleep, I'll call you later, love you, bye." What the heck were you thinking was still in there somewhere, but he didn't need to get her upset at him before they said good night.

Once Ivy was safely in the car and it pulled away, Myles paused to compose himself before returning to the house. Jeez. At least prom had gone smoothly before this. Ivy couldn't be mad about that part of the night.

He turned back to the house, pulling his phone from his pocket to text Declyn. He wanted to get out of here and preferably head somewhere a safe distance away from whatever was about to go down between Bret and Wyatt, and he was hoping that Declyn felt the same way. Events kept conspiring against him, but Myles was determined that his night, at least, was going to end on a good note.

((Myles Roux continued elsewhere))

[Fenris]

Was it bad that Ivy had very nearly forgotten that Connor was there? She supposed not. He was an auxiliary decoration to the whole scene, attractive but superfluous. The shift in his tone from voice from however many hours earlier was palpable and also hilariously condescending, like something her theoretical mom might say, and to hear it from him was far more funny than cutting. Her averted gaze darted back to his face so he could get the full effect of her withering expression before she tossed her hair and looked away again. His girlfriend was going to light everything he owned on fire one day, so where did he get off feeling superior?

Her perfectly scornful poise was destroyed in an instant when a familiar arm looped around hers, though.

"Wha- hey!" Ivy protested as Myles dragged her away, mostly because the sudden movement was a stark reminder that hey, she was really drunk, her feet weren't moving too well and the room felt like it was sprinting ahead of her, but she kept up with him with stumbling steps. This was Connor's party, she supposed she did have to go, but—but, but. Everything moved so fast, figuratively and literally. She managed not to fall, but barely. Myles's pace was relentless but his arm was familiar. Comforting.

Things were already starting to get a little blurry. She got the sense that that might be for the best.

"Yeah," she mumbled, ruffling through her clutch for her phone and unlocking it before handing it to Myles. She didn't need an Uber, did she? Connor's place was close enough to hers that when she'd dated him she'd walked between them. She could walk home. Except for how every step she took saw the ground lurch ahead of her, the night sky turning circles over her head.

Uber was a good idea. Myles had those sometimes. He was good and she loved him. That was a feeling she could hold onto when all other complexities had melted away. She held his arm, tightly, and tried not to fall.

She was in the car, then, and he was gone.

She fell asleep in the five minutes it took the Uber to drive her home. She fell asleep again within five minutes of entering her front door, shoes kicked off, crown placed delicately on her nightstand.

Her memory had already fallen to only broad ideas, concepts, and by morning she was quite certain that even those would elude her.

Oh well.

>> Ivy Langley continued in my soul? so cynical

[MK Kilmarnock]

((Wyatt Carter pulled in from a good time))

"... and so I'm pretty sure after that, he's only sniffing blood!" Wyatt guffawed, not waiting for the sound of the likely chorus of snickering from his captive audience. "But that's what he gets. Talk shit, get a busted-"

Somebody had set his hand on his shoulder. The underlying muscle tensed just as natural response, but very few people put their hand on him like that with so much weight. Or with that much force. It took a full second for Wyatt to full process the sensation and he turned. He saw Bret, and it was around that time he realized that his shoulder could still feel the impact of his hand, almost like he'd been struck. He rolled it, both to shrug off the sensation and to encourage Bret's hand to embark. "Hey bro," Wyatt started. He could sense what he thought was concern, maybe a little bit of tension, so this wasn't a time to be playing around.

"Yeah hold up, I'll be right back," he said to the little gathering he'd managed to amass in order to listen to stories of cucks getting bust-up, and took a few bounding steps to start after Bret before he changed pace into a regular walk. "Somebody probably needs a beating, I'unno."

[Deamon]

Bret slid the door open and stepped out into the cool night air. It made him realise just how warm it had been inside Connor's house. It made sense, all the people plus the alcohol he had been drinking, of course it would be warm. Wyatt followed him without any questions or second thoughts. No surprise there. Wyatt wasn't a complicated person. Bret understood perfectly why his brother had done what he had. Ivy would have offered it to him and Wyatt would have accepted because Wyatt was primarily guided by his most basic instincts. It was frustratingly predictable. But that was his brother and Bret supposed that he shouldn't have been surprised.

The fact Wyatt was his brother was the only thing that had saved him. If it had been anyone else they would have been dragged outside and given what they deserved. That wasn't to say Wyatt didn't deserve something. He had crossed the line after all. He, along with Ivy, had committed the betrayal, and it was a betrayal. Bret was sure Wyatt had justified in some way. There was no doubt his brother had figured out some logical reason as to why he was in the right and it was all his own fault for not satisfying Ivy enough or something along that line of thinking. It would have been very him.

There was a small group stood off to one side passing something around, Bret didn't care what it was but they were by the door so he walked down to the end of Connor's yard. There was enough space that he was happy they'd be able to talk in private.

Once they were a decent way away Bret turned to Wyatt.

"Ivy told me what's been going on." He said. "This is your one chance to explain."

[MK Kilmarnock]

Oh.

Oh. Fuck.

Wyatt straightened himself out and leaned back just a bit, anything to fight the knot growing in his stomach when Bret dropped those words. He'd seen Bret like this and he enjoyed seeing Bret like this, because this side came out of him pointed in the direction of somebody who had gone and broken the cardinal rule of GHHS and fucked with the Carter boys. This was the kind of tone dropped on somebody who said a disparaging remark about being born with a silver spoon in their mouths or some shit thanks to who Mom was, without knowing a single thing about her, and in the same breath they'd talk shit about Dad for being a nobody with a bulldozer who married up. Or they'd talk shit about a current flame. It didn't matter, it all went the same. Egos would flare, kids would lose teeth. But with Bret, there was always this entertaining factor of watching him coldly deciding what he was going to do, putting the ball in your court and letting you sputter over your words so it somehow was your fault more than his that you were about to suffer.

This was not a fun trait to observe anymore. What Wyatt felt when he looked at his twin's face was... he probably wouldn't describe it as fear. He had a healthy respect for Bret as one of the few people who wouldn't back down from throwing fists, and one of the kids who wouldn't go down easy, either. This was already a selective group, and because of that, Wyatt usually swung wide and avoided picking fights more often than necessary. But he wasn't especially afraid of Bret either. They'd scuffled and quarreled and bruised each other and Mom would whip them good every time for fighting, but that was just how they lived their lives. They were brothers, and that's just what they did.

Maybe, then, that's why what Wyatt was feeling, though he might never have been able to qualify or label it, was in fact terror, but it was not terror at getting hit. There was a sharp pang that he had just done something seriously wrong, and that things would never be the same ever again.

And that terror gave way to anger as the reality of the situation settled in. Wyatt could never hide his face and knew bluffing was pointless. Bret said he knew, and that meant he knew. The thought DID occur to him, just a second, to play dumb. She's lying. She's just looking for a quick way to break up. He could have done that, or at least attempted to, and knew full well that coming from him, going to Bret, each of those was a heavy factor for it just not working. Deception was not in Wyatt Carter's playbook and it didn't feel right to tack it onto the pile. So he thought about what he was going to say, but the longer he thought, the angrier he got and the words of thought grew cloudier until they weren't words anymore. He stepped back and started a pacing step, stuttered and stopped as every action continued to feel wrong to him for some reason.

"Why the FUCK did she spit that up now!?" Wyatt hollered at a lovely bush not far from Bret's direction, cardinally speaking. "She was supposed to break up with you, THEN say something! Fuckin- how's she more impulsive than me!?" He didn't care if they sounded like the right things to say, because Wyatt just had to say them. "What else do you want me to tell you? I fucked your girl because she wanted me to fuck her. I'unno man, the job wasn't getting done right?" He threw his hands out in an accompanying nonverbal 'what do you want from me' gesture. The pit felt deeper. Might as well go all the way to hell.

"Is it, like, really a big deal if I take her n' all if she wasn't happy?"

[Deamon]

He'd always known his brother wasn't the smartest but Wyatt was surprising him with just how dense he seemingly was. Bret realized that he really shouldn't have been surprised but yet, here he was anyway. He did appreciate Wyatt revealing what sounded like a plan of some sort. It appeared Ivy had ruined it somewhat by getting drunk, which was funny in how on-brand it was. Ivy could never get out of her own way. Then again he was the only thing that kept Wyatt in check as well. At least, he thought he was.

As Wyatt continued to rant Bret merely observed him. His twin had never been able to hide his emotions, he had never been able to lie either. Wyatt said a lot of things, none of them things that Bret wanted to hear. None of them things he deeply cared about even. He also never thought to do the obvious thing because he was Wyatt. Bret was sure that as far as Wyatt was concerned the issue was more that he had been found out rather than it happening in the first place. Still, he needed Wyatt to calm down. Bret didn't want him to get worked up.

"Hey calm down."

He placed his hands on his brother's shoulders.

"I don't care if you're with Ivy. Hell, keep her. She can be your problem. I don't want her coming between us anymore than she has."

The was a pause as they stood there, Bret let the silence wash over them.

"But you did fuck my girlfriend behind my back."

Then he headbutted Wyatt.

[MK Kilmarnock]

Bret stepped in, and Wyatt wasn't sure what to expect. In his own ranting, his gesticulating arms found themselves outward, but not exactly up or in a fighting position. When Bret put his own hands up, Wyatt took too long to catch up to what had happened and he flinched.

His eyes opened when Bret put his hands on his shoulders. Wyatt let his own arms drop, though his shoulders were still hunched, still tensed. He breathed a heavy sigh as he stared down at his twin telling him to calm down. Bret should have been pissed. He had every right to throw down, and Wyatt was still deciding how hard he'd fight back: maybe not at all, maybe he'd give him hell just for the sake of it and to save his own skin. This was... oddly understanding of him.

But he was right. Nobody should get between them, not even a really hot chick with a rockin' bod and the tightest pussy ever.

"I-uh, bro, I-" Wyatt uttered, trying to break up the silence. This was an odd time for a brotherly moment. It was nice, just-

"But you did fuck my girlfriend behind my back."

"Wh-" CRACK. Wyatt flinched in the instant Bret drove the front of his skull right into his face, causing his own head to snap back on his thick neck. Wyatt looked quite stunned as his chin lifted and blood trickled from his nose almost instantly, and he felt stunned even moreso as the whole world around him went blurry. He stumbled forward, desperately trying to catch his balance.

[Deamon]

It was a cheap shot but that didn't matter to Bret. The most important thing for him at that moment was to make sure Wyatt was in pain. There were lines that weren't supposed to be crossed and it appeared to Bret that his brother didn't care about any of that. It took a special kind of person to fuck his own brothers' girlfriend. Deep down Bret knew that there was a good chance it was all Ivy's fault. His brother wasn't the smartest so she probably had an easy time manipulating him. He had always been swayed by a pretty girl.

As Wyatt stumbled forward Bret stepped off at an angle and gave him a hard two-handed shove, sending him sprawling onto the grass.

Bret was on him in a flash, he put one knee on his brother's belly and braced the other against the ground. His left hand grabbed Wyatt around the throat while the other cuffed his brother across the face.

"You stupid fucking idiot Wyatt." Bret snarled, but his attention was diverted by the group they'd passed on the way. They had gone quiet and were watching the pair of them.

"We'll sort this out at home." He said as he lightened the pressure of both his weight and grip. He didn't want Ivy to have the satisfaction.

[MK Kilmarnock]

Bad thing about being so big was, when you hit the ground, you hit the ground pretty damn hard. It was hard for Wyatt to say which would be worse, him hitting the ground or Bret just straight up splashing atop him.

Fortunately Bret cleared up that question by mounting him with a knee to the chest. Okay, case closed, hitting the ground wasn't so bad. Wyatt was just opening his eyes when Bret grabbed him and clocked him one across the face. It was about that time that he snapped out of his stupor, squiring and grunting as he dealt with the trial of breathing while it seemed like Bret was putting every single one of his pounds on that fucking knee as if he was trying to dig a hole right through him. The hand at his throat wasn't actually strangling him, so his first instinct was to put his hands up to prevent himself from getting hit again.

And then, just like that, Bret was done.

"Fuck OFFA me, man!" Wyatt wheezed, rocking to and fro on his spine as Bret seemed to be lightening up anyway. He twisted and rolled in order to at least get out from under him, pulling up to one knee and coughing. "You think I'm done with you after you're all being a cheap-shotting motherfucker like that!?"

[Cactus]

"You're damned right, you're done, Wyatt. That's enough!"

He'd let them have their confrontation. Anything less, and it would have boiled over into a powder keg. If Connor Lorenzen knew his friends at all, he knew that this situation was undoubtedly not over. Not by a long-shot. He'd also known that when Bret had calmly walked out of the study, there was only one rational conclusion for what he was going to do, and there was nothing Connor or anyone else could do to stop that conclusion from coming to pass. So he'd waited, finished his drink, and let it happen.

The crowd of rubberneckers at the patio door hadn't said a word, and so when Connor had strode outside, still in the remnants of his prom tuxedo sans the jacket, he stood at the edge of the bricked part of the back patio, arms perched on his hips. As one of the few people in the school who matched Wyatt for height, Connor knew that if the brothers decided they wanted to keep fighting, there was realistically very little that could be done. No one inside was going to want to wade into that scrap, and Connor himself was only a quarterback. By definition, he avoided the contact. He also knew that were it going to continue, something - or someone - would inevitably get broken.

Focusing his attention on Bret now, Connor exhaled through his nose. His stoic friend was never one to show large outward displays of emotion, and this was no different. The two Carters sometimes felt like the antithesis of one another's personalities.

"That's enough for now, right Bret?" He allowed his voice to be less authoritative, more understanding. He'd borne witness to what Ivy had dumped upon Bret, and he was sympathetic. Wyatt really did deserve to get thumped for what he'd done, but it was something the two brothers needed to work out in private.

"This is something y'all need to work out on your own, without a crowd." Connor gestured back at the onlookers, who all suddenly became very interested in the tiles on the ground. "You want to stay, y'all know you're always welcome, but I won't have any more scraps here."

He gesticulated with his hands, moving them so as to indicate a cut-off point.

"Not tonight."

Looking out at his friends, Connor was disappointed. This was supposed to be a night of revelry; a night of celebration. Instead, Wyatt and Bret were at one another's throats over a betrayal that gave Connor a lump in his throat. He was genuinely disappointed in Wyatt, though he knew that his friend was guided more-so by his id than by actual decision-making skills. It was one of the reasons that Bret and he were probably a bit closer than Wyatt; Bret was more thoughtful, more deliberate.

It was probably why in a situation like this, he'd be more afraid of what Bret would do than Wyatt. Ivy had probably come on to Wyatt, and he had likely said yes before he even realized what was going on. It didn't excuse him, but Connor understood how it had likely happened.

Dourly, he wondered if Ivy had the unmitigated gall to actually stick around after the grenade she'd dropped on Bret. He made a mental note to check around, and if she was still here to kick her and her lacky Myles out, immediately.

"So what d'you say, boys?"

((CONNOR LORENZEN PROM CONCLUDED))