🎶: Gasoline - Halsey
Caitlyn weaved her way through the crowd, her steps purposeful yet hesitant. She kept her sharp gaze fixed on Jayce and Mel, who were engaged in polite conversation with a small group of guests near the edge of the dais. The sight of Jayce's familiar smile tugged at a part of her she wasn't ready to confront, but she forced herself forward, her expression carefully composed.
As she drew closer, Jayce caught sight of her out of the corner of his eye. His entire demeanor lit up, his easy smile broadening into something warmer, more genuine. "Caitlyn!" he exclaimed, excusing himself from the group without hesitation and striding toward her.
Caitlyn paused, her posture instinctively straightening as he closed the distance. "Jayce," she greeted, her voice even but cautious, a polite smile gracing her lips.
Jayce didn't seem to notice her wariness. His face lit up as he closed the distance, his energy unmistakable and infectious. "Caitlyn!" he exclaimed, his voice carrying over the hum of the room as if nothing else existed in that moment. He stopped just short of pulling her into a hug, placing both hands firmly on her shoulders instead. His gaze roved over her, not in scrutiny, but in unabashed admiration and familial pride.
"Look at you," he said, shaking his head with a broad grin that made his boyish charm shine through. "Still sharp, still put-together, but…" He stepped back slightly, as if to take her in fully, his eyes softening. "You've grown into someone… incredible, Cait. Beautiful. Not just in the way you look—which, seriously, you could stop traffic—but in how you carry yourself. Confident. Composed. Everything I always knew you'd become."
He laughed lightly, letting his hands drop, but his warmth didn't fade. "I mean, I always knew you were something special, but seeing you now? It's like you've stepped right out of some impossible ideal."
Caitlyn's polite smile tightened slightly, though her heart gave a faint, unwelcome twist. Jayce hasn't changed at all, she thought, watching his excitement spill over without restraint.
"It's been forever," Jayce continued, his voice dropping slightly, tinged with nostalgia. "Feels like a lifetime ago, doesn't it? What are you doing here, Caitlyn? Of all places."
Caitlyn cleared her throat softly, her gaze steady. "The same as everyone else, I suppose. Supporting the inventors, learning what the future might hold." She paused, her voice dropping slightly. "Though I'd say the bigger surprise is seeing you here, Jayce. You could've given me some warning."
Jayce chuckled sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. "Yeah, I know. I should've reached out. Things got… well, busy doesn't even begin to cover it."
Before Caitlyn could respond, a steady, commanding voice joined the conversation. "It seems tonight is full of surprises, Mr. Talis." Riven stepped forward, her presence as deliberate as her words. Her sharp gaze locked onto Jayce's as she extended her hand, her tone calm yet authoritative. "Riven Konte. Head of the Konte family."
Jayce blinked, his expression shifting as recognition dawned. He took her hand in a firm shake, his demeanor shifting slightly as if recalibrating for who he was addressing. "Riven Konte," he repeated, his voice carrying a note of respect. "Of course. I've read about your work. The Konte family's ventures in agricultural engineering are nothing short of groundbreaking. It's an honor to finally meet you."
Riven's lips curved into a faint, knowing smile as she released his hand. "The honor is mutual, Mr. Talis. Your contributions to technology and infrastructure have set quite the standard. I imagine tonight's inventors aspire to follow in your footsteps."
Jayce chuckled lightly, his confidence returning. "Well, I do what I can. Though I'd argue your work has reshaped industries just as much, if not more."
Caitlyn glanced between them, her blue eyes catching every shift in tone and expression. "I see the two of you have plenty to talk about," she said smoothly, her voice edged with subtle amusement.
Jayce glanced back at her, his warmth returning. "We do, but that can wait. Cait, it's really good to see you again. I mean it."
Riven's sharp gaze flicked to Caitlyn briefly before she stepped back slightly, her presence still commanding but unobtrusive. "It seems you two have catching up to do," she remarked lightly. "Don't let me interrupt."
Caitlyn's polite smile returned, though her tone carried a note of finality. "Perhaps later. For now, I think Jayce and I have covered the basics."
Jayce hesitated, a flicker of disappointment crossing his face, but he nodded. "Fair enough. But don't disappear, Cait. We need to talk properly."
"I'll be around," Caitlyn replied coolly, her gaze steady.
Riven's faint smirk returned as she gestured toward the crowd. "Shall we, Caitlyn? The evening won't wait for us." As they walked away from Jayce and Mel, the hum of the crowd gradually replacing their conversation, Riven leaned closer to Caitlyn, her voice dropping to a whisper that barely disturbed the air between them.
"He married a Medarda," Riven murmured, the edge of her tone smooth but heavy with implication. Her sharp eyes flicked back briefly toward the dais before settling forward again, her expression unreadable. "Interesting choice, don't you think?"
Caitlyn's brow furrowed slightly, her composed mask cracking just enough to show her curiosity. "You say that like it means something," she said quietly, her voice low but steady.
Riven didn't look at her, her smirk returning faintly as she replied, "Doesn't it?" She straightened slightly, her demeanor shifting back to her usual commanding confidence, as though the comment had been nothing more than an idle observation. Caitlyn's mind churned, her sharp instincts catching the weight behind Riven's words. What do you know, Riven? And why does it matter?
But Riven offered no further explanation, her silence deliberate with unspoken knowledge.
-ਠŕ§-
Jayce stood near the edge of the room, a champagne flute in hand, his gaze drifting aimlessly over the crowd. The energy of the evening, the hum of conversation and laughter, barely registered. His thoughts lingered elsewhere, tethered to something—or someone—he couldn't quite escape.
Mel approached him with her usual effortless grace, the golden shimmer of her gown catching the light as she stepped into his line of sight. Her movements were deliberate, calculated, as though she could sense the weight of what occupied his mind. "You're distracted," she said smoothly, her voice soft yet firm, cutting through his thoughts like a scalpel.
Jayce blinked, his focus snapping back to her. He offered a small, tired smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Just… taking it all in," he replied, though the words felt hollow even as he said them.
Mel arched a brow, her sharp gaze narrowing ever so slightly. "Is that what you're doing? Or are you thinking about Viktor?"
The name landed like a quiet thunderclap, and for a moment, Jayce stiffened. His fingers tightened around the glass, the stem teetering on the edge of a dangerous crack. He recovered quickly, letting out a humorless chuckle that felt more like a reflex. "Is it that obvious?" he asked, his tone light but strained.
"To me? Always," Mel replied, her lips curving into a faint smile that held equal parts warmth and something sharper. She stepped closer, her voice lowering to a near whisper. "You've been distant about him all evening. You can say his name, Jayce. It's not a secret."
Jayce exhaled slowly, setting the champagne flute down on the table beside him with deliberate care. "It's not about saying his name, Mel," he said, his voice quieter now, laden with something unspoken. "It's about… everything else. What it means to bring him up."
Mel tilted her head slightly, studying him with an almost predatory curiosity. "And what does it mean?" she asked, her voice deceptively gentle.
Jayce's gaze drifted to the chandeliers above, his jaw tightening as his thoughts seemed to twist and knot themselves. "It means remembering how it ended. How I…" He paused, his words catching in his throat. "How I walked away."
Mel's expression softened, but her eyes sharpened. "Walked away," she echoed, testing the words as though weighing their meaning. "Or left him behind?"
Jayce flinched, the subtle distinction cutting deeper than she intended—or perhaps exactly as she intended.
"I thought I was doing the right thing," he said finally, his voice quieter now, almost pleading with himself. "For him. For us. For the work."
"And did he see it that way?" Mel asked, her question pointed yet measured, her tone laced with a quiet challenge.
Jayce shook his head, his lips pressing into a thin line. "No," he admitted, his voice barely audible. "He didn't."
Mel's gaze lingered on him, her hand reaching out to brush lightly against his arm. The touch was grounding, but her words were anything but. "You're carrying him with you, Jayce," she said softly, though her tone hinted at something more. "Even now, he's a shadow on your every step. And you think that weight will disappear if you just ignore it?"
Jayce looked at her then, his blue eyes clouded with conflict. "What am I supposed to do, Mel? Just walk back and… fix it? After everything?"
Her lips curved into a faint, enigmatic smile. "Fixing isn't the same as facing," she said simply. "But then again, maybe you don't want to fix it. Maybe it's easier to carry the weight than to risk him telling you exactly what he thinks of the choices you made."
Jayce didn't respond, his silence thick with the unspoken truth of her words.
Mel's hand lingered for a moment longer before she withdrew it, stepping back slightly, her expression unreadable. "Whatever you decide, Jayce," she said smoothly, her voice returning to its usual polished calm, "remember that shadows grow heavier when left unacknowledged. And Viktor… well, he was never one to let anything stay buried for long."
-ਠŕ§-
The din of the ballroom had softened in this quieter corner of the venue. Vi leaned against a marble column, her burgundy hair catching the faint golden glow of the chandeliers above. Her sharp blue eyes tracked the ebb and flow of the crowd, though her focus seemed far away. She rolled a glass of sparkling water in her hand, the bubbles rising like unspoken thoughts.
"Don't tell me you've already had enough of the party," Vander's deep, familiar voice cut through the ambient hum.
Vi glanced over her shoulder, a smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. "Just pacing myself, old man. Not everyone can handle your stamina for these kinds of events."
Vander chuckled, stepping beside her with an easy confidence that matched hers. His broad frame seemed to command the space, though his presence was as calm as ever. "Not sure if that's a compliment or an insult."
"A little of both," Vi replied, her smirk widening briefly before fading as her gaze returned to the crowd.
Vander followed her line of sight, his expression softening. "You're quieter than usual. What's on your mind, kid?"
Vi shrugged, her voice nonchalant. "Nothing serious. Just… watching."
"Watching what?" Vander pressed, his tone gentle but knowing.
Vi hesitated, swirling the glass in her hand before answering. "People," she said finally. "Everyone here is so polished, like they've got everything figured out. Makes me feel like an alien in my own skin."
Vander raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms as he leaned against the column beside her. "Since when does Violet Kane ever care about fitting in?"
"I don't," Vi shot back quickly, though the sharpness in her tone betrayed something deeper. She sighed, raking a hand through her messy burgundy hair. "I just… sometimes it feels like I'm walking into a game that's already been played. Like everyone knows the rules but me."
Vander nodded slowly, his gaze thoughtful. "You think these people have it all figured out? Trust me, they're just better at pretending. Expensive suits and practiced smiles don't mean they don't have their own demons."
Vi's smirk returned faintly. "Sounds like you've got this wisdom thing down."
"I've been around long enough to learn a few things," Vander replied, his voice steady. "And one of them is that you're not as out of place as you think. You've got the guts to stand in any room, Vi. Don't forget that."
Vi looked at Vander then, her sharp blue eyes narrowing slightly, a flicker of hesitation crossing her face. She swirled the glass in her hand again, the bubbles spiraling upward in the silence between them.
"Vander," she started, her voice quieter now, carrying an edge of something uncharacteristically unsure. "What do you think about… being with someone who's, I don't know, too good for you?"
Vander raised an eyebrow, his lips twitching into a faint smile. "Too good for you? Can't say I've heard you worry about that before. Since when do you start measuring yourself against anyone else?"
Vi exhaled sharply, rolling her eyes. "It's not about measuring. It's just…" She glanced back at the crowd, frowning. "They've got their whole act together, you know? Fancy, always saying the right thing. They walk into a room, and people stop to listen. Meanwhile, I'm over here just hoping I don't knock over a centerpiece."
Vander chuckled softly, leaning against the column. "You're talking about Caitlyn."
Vi stiffened slightly, her head snapping toward him, but she didn't deny it. Instead, she smirked faintly, though it lacked her usual sharpness. "Guess I'm not exactly subtle, huh?"
"Not to me, kid," Vander replied, his voice low and steady. "You've always been an open book, even when you think you're not." He studied her for a moment before continuing. "So, what's got you all twisted up? You think she's too fancy for you?"
Vi sighed, dragging a hand through her messy hair. "She's just… so damn put together. Like she's got all these rules she lives by, and me? I've spent half my life breaking them. Feels like we're from different planets."
Vander's expression softened, his voice steady but firm. "And yet, here you are, thinking about her. Ever think maybe she's looking at you the same way? Wondering how you've got the guts to break the rules she's been stuck following her whole life?"
Vi frowned, her lips pressing into a thin line. "Yeah, well, doesn't mean I don't screw things up more often than not. What if she's better off with someone who's… not such a mess?"
"Vi," Vander said, his tone sharp enough to cut through her doubt. "Listen to me. You think you're a mess, but you've got a fire most people couldn't even dream of. You fight for what you believe in, you stand by the people you care about, and you don't back down. That's not a mess. That's what makes you, you."
Vi's smirk returned, though it was small. "Yeah, but what if it's not enough?"
Vander let out a low laugh, shaking his head. "If she doesn't see what you bring to the table, kid, that's on her, not you. But from what I've seen? Caitlyn's got eyes. She knows what she's getting into."
Vi snorted, her smirk widening. "You think so?"
"I know so," Vander replied, clapping her lightly on the shoulder. "And if you're half as tough as you like to think you are, you won't let a little doubt keep you from finding out for yourself."
Vi looked at him, her sharp gaze softening slightly as she nodded. "Thanks, old man. Guess I needed the pep talk."
"Anytime, kid," Vander said with a grin, his voice warm with pride.
Vi turned back to the crowd, her sharp eyes scanning for a familiar face.
ਠEND OF MINI CHAPTER ŕ§