Pablo
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"I've got 'em if you want to roll 'em down." Garrett paused. "Gently."
Pablo gripped a barrel and tipped it onto its side. Damn thing tilted too far and started to come down heavy. Shit! Caught it before it fell. Fucking earned. If the rope shifted, the staves would come loose. Sticky tree bits on the center floor like Mother Nature took a big dump.
"I said, gently!"
"I got it!" Pablo huffed, setting the barrel down carefully. Too carefully. Didn't know why he was treating Garrett's wooden harem like porcelain.
He stood up straight, but it took effort. Noodles would make better appendages than these floppy arms and legs. Just need to sit, or roll over and die. At least he'd make a useful paperweight.
He planted his arm on an upright barrel and rested his head on his forearm. Didn't make a bad pillow. Wasn't saying much. He could sleep roped-tied to Bess and dragged around like a dingleberry.
Something smooth brushed the back of his hand. Sansi's fingers.
"You okay, hun?"
Pablo lifted his hand to motion he was fine. He wasn't. He was stuck in the truck with this team, and Cass. Should've stayed home. Should've made Miles stay home. They’d both trained with Twin Blades when they were still around. They were meant for more than this mediocre rebel bullshit. But Miles did it for Emi. He does everything for Emi.
Cass was staring daggers at Pablo when he tipped his head to look. Of course she was still watching. He'd been wanting to check his phone. See if Miles messaged back. She probably knew it. That rock sucking friend-thief was smarter than she let on. Waiting for Pablo to slip, playing amateur stakeout. Game on, bitch.
Pablo stood up, yawning and pat the barrel beside him. "Let's get these moving."
He started to roll the one he let down toward Garrett. It was a lot easier than trying to lift it. Still awkward. Still weak. Wood tumbled inside, thunking around when the sap stopped sticking. This was ridiculous. He gave it a hard shove and Garrett scrambled to catch it.
"Favored, Pablo. Really?".
Pablo shrugged. He would usually be more careful. He was a perfectionist if nothing less. But today, he couldn't give a shit.
Sansi was inspecting the barrels, trailing her fingers along the rim. She put her hand on her chin, her lips. She removed her thumb, and her bottom lip smacked. Damn. Pablo could think of much more entertaining schematics to study. Pablo backed up against the wall and hid his face. Watching.
"So... Where's the rest of your group?" The voice came from nowhere. How could he not have seen Cass? She cornered him. Got him alone. Asking the one question that would unravel him. What really asked was, 'Where's Miles?'. Pablo gritted his teeth.
Miles was wrong about her. In every fucking way.
Cass wants to be one of us, Miles had said.
She's just quiet and doesn't know how to ask, he'd said.
No, that oblivious toast waffle didn't get it. Cass had only come here for him.
Cass stood there. Could tell by the look on her face that she was started to hate him. Fine. He wanted to hate her too. Everything she'd done to Miles. With those gritty, puny fingers.
Thinking about her and Miles together was repulsive. She was arrogant, selfish, too stupid.
Innocent.
She didn't know.
It was only an hour after the party. Pablo's stomach was being a whiny bitch. He should have eaten more. He lay in his tent, eyes closed. Trying to drift, but whenever he thought the darkness was sleep, it wasn't.
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His tent rattled, canvas fluttering as someone opened it. He didn't want to look. If it was an axe murderer, let it happen. Pablo was too tired to fight. Without a moment to process, a body plummeted and thunked down next to him. That ease into his tent was all he needed to know who it was. They shuffled trying to get into a better position. A drunken smile crept on Pablo's lips. Scrub it off, dumbass. 'Pssst', Pablo'. Any second.
"Pssst. Pablo"
Pablo held his hands over his mouth "What do you want?" he muttered.
"Sorry for waking you up," Miles said, and shifted again. "I just wanted to talk but I can-"
"So, talk," Pablo said.
He turned onto his side, facing Miles. Propping his chin up with his elbow. Sunlight spilled through the canvas walls. Light stabbing his brain without mercy. Pablo shook his head and blinked a few times. Miles was mirroring Pablo's position, staring back at him. Fuzzy hair in a bundled mess on one side. Evidence that he tried to sleep, probably, unless it was a fashion trial run for the day that he definitely wouldn't want Pablo's opinion about.
Miles was staring at the wall. He rarely made eye contact. Could still see the blue in his brown eyes where it didn't belong.
His face was red, especially the dark lines under his eyes. Looked unreal. Probably the booze.
Miles adjusted, slapping his forehead, and sighed, lying down flat.
"It's just. This girl stuff." He said. Of course it was. The hole he dug for himself was real. Feelings are our weakest possession.
Pablo pressed his finger into the scratchy webbing of his pillow. "So you know, I. Am so. Fucking wasted. If you're good. Go ahead."
"I just—really messed up"
"No shit."
"Emi's going to hate me. How long have we been together? Like five years?-"
"Four."
"Yeah. Feels longer. But, we had a good thing... I thought. Kind of. I don't know." He sighed. "Why the heck can't you keep a girlfriend?" Fucking Miles. He smiled a little then frowned again, "She's freaking crazy sometimes, but I still love her." he paused.
"I don't think I love Cass like that." That was sudden. Pablo was sure he was going to make another dumb decision before regretting life choices.
Miles sat up quickly. Zoomy mother fucker had to be more sober than Pablo.
"What should I do?"
"Why." Pablo groaned "Why's it gotta be anyone?" his question dragged when his mouth moved slower.
"Huh?"
Was Pablo too drunk to make sense? Maybe he wasn't ready to answer these questions.
"You used. To be happier before girlfriend shit." Pablo said, slurring his words. Miles just stared at him with a dumb look on his face. Probably didn't get it. Fine.
"Dump Cass. Keep going with Emi." Pablo yawned "That's what you want, right?"
Miles started rustling his hair, making it even more of a mess. Pablo had to fight the urge to fix it. If he tried, he might vomit down Miles' back. Which was halfway tempting considering the shit Miles had pulled on him.
"I mean- I don't know. And it's not that easy. If Emi finds out about Cass... she'd definitely break up with me." Miles sighs, "It'd be the one thing she needs to leave." He fluffed his hair out to fix it, then dropped his head low.
"So, apologize. And tell her. She might forgive you. Just explain what happened before Cass does."
Miles looked up at Pablo. Under heavy eyelids, Miles met his eyes for the first time since he came in. His brown eyes were golden in the light. Blue, a soft turquoise. Rare moment, that asshole could get whatever he wanted. Pablo's rationality and independence? Take it.
"That's not going to work..." Miles said.
Pablo sat up slowly. Stomach groaning. Everything was moving even when his eyes weren't.
"You don't think it will?" He lifted his head, tucking his curly hair behind his ear. It just bounced away.
"Hi Emi, I'm Cass," Pablo said in a whiny high pitched tune "Me and Miles went to fucktown behind your back to make little Fated babies."
Miles scoffed, "Shut up. You're an idiot." He pushed Pablo backward. Too drunk to fight it. Too silly to care, Pablo let himself fall onto his pillow.
"You're asking for this idiot's advice. What does that make you?" Pablo smirked, looking at the ceiling, too dizzy to turn his head.
Miles chuckled softly, but didn't answer. "I don't even know how to tell her..."
"Is this going to bug you all night?"
"Probably."
Pablo sighed. "Then practice." Pablo twirled his hand, motioning for him to continue.
"Not here," Pablo said. That's where Miles was. Miles wouldn't want her to know. He was barely even thinking of this miserable, obsessive twit.
"They're at the airport," Garrett blurted. Lard mouth. "Hey. Careful!" Garrett said again.
Wasn't saying it to Pablo unless he meant the paint Pablo just scratched from the truck wall with his fingernail. Oops.
A constant thrumming came from Sansi's barrel. She stood beside it, tilting it toward her, and spinning it as she walked. Fucking brilliant.
"How are you doing that?" Cass asked.
The barrel rolled on its rim on the floor, like it was designed to move like that. Wait—yes. Pablo looked at Cass. She had stepped forward for a closer look.
King's back in the game. Pablo slipped out his phone just enough to see the screen. Pablo knew he had missed a message.
Miles
:(
Sent 1:31AM
The fuck did that mean?
"Nice!" Garrett said. Sansi's barrel stopped in front of him.
Pablo glanced up from his phone to catch Cass looking at him. He quickly shoved the phone back into his pocket. "What?" he said. Like she had no business looking at him. She didn't.
"Miles is at the airport?" Cass asked. Pablo rolled his eyes, and headed to a barrel. He grabbed it firmly, and got it ready to roll.
"Let's hurry this up." The sooner they got to the airport, the better. If Miles was already hurting from by Emi's rejection, someone had to be there to keep him together.
Pablo was on his way.
*** Character-specific extras included in post author's note*
We've met everyone in the prologue. Or have we? ???
Miles returns for his part in the Mission in the next one, and someone else takes notice.
Thank you for reading!
[Extra] Pablo says:
***Author's Note:
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