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Decorating for Christmas had always been Powder’s job. She had a knack for picking out wacky decorations, getting lights into the hard to reach (frankly impossible) places, and she and Ekko always thought of some crazy light display featuring loud classic Christmas songs and strobes. To say the first Christmas with her away at college was boring would be an understatement.
When another strand of lights falls from the edge of the gutter and to the ground below, Vi thinks she just might put a hole in the roof. In a huff, she flung herself onto the roof, back meeting the rough shingles as she wiped the sweat from her brow. One thing she hated about Zaun was the total lack of seasonal change. They’d be lucky if they got even a slight windchill this year, and she’d never been more stricken by this than now, as the sun beat down onto her face.
It was the decorations, the music, the exchange of presents that made the season. No snow, no snowmen; and without Powder here, it was up to Vi to keep the “Christmas Spirit” alive.
It’s probably the exhaustion from the heat – no, definitely the exhaustion from the heat – but Vi swears she can feel the trace of soft fingers on her jaw. Someone chuckling regally, teasing her for being so easily confounded by a strand of lights. She can feel herself relax under the touch, leaning forward to try and brush her lips with whoever this mystery visitor is—
“Vi! You alright up there?” The gruff voice of Vander has Vi sitting upright almost immediately, her frantic gaze landing on the man, looking up at her with a quizzical look. She replaces whatever look is on her face (she’s certain it isn’t pleasant) with a smile, and waves off his worry.
“I’m fine, almost finished,” she assures him. She stands back up on the roof, grabbing the end of the strand of lights, whose other half had fallen to the ground, and draws it back up to her. Vander looks unconvinced, and takes a step closer.
“Ya’ know I could still come up there and help you,” he chuckles, “I’m not that old.”
“No!” Vi calls down, albeit a bit too quickly. “I mean, I’ve got it. You’ve had a long day, go ahead and relax.”
While not seeming convinced, Vander concedes and heads back inside. Vi sighs in relief. What the hell was getting into her? The memory of her delusion, to put it lightly, was still fresh, and she’s certain that if she just closed her eyes, she’d feel that familiar touch along her cheek again.
Before she can give in to the urge, she takes the strand of lights and gets back to hanging them. Cheap plastic hangers be damned, she will be done hanging lights before the sun goes down.
The strand of lights falls again. Vander hears the slam of fists above him from inside the house.
Far be it from her to admit it, but Caitlyn positively loathes the holiday season.
No, loathe is a strong word. She didn’t hate the holidays. But the lead up? Buying gifts, sending out invitations, baking, decorating? It was all too much, at least for her.
Caitlyn Kiramman’s holiday parties are legendary . Christmas Eve? She’s decked out her place with decor all the way from reefs to mistletoe hanging at the entrance. Food? She’d spent the last decorating cookies, baking pastries, and cooking up a meal to feed a small army. New Years was just about the same, only that was when she busted out the expensive chardonnay and convinced Jayce to buy fireworks that Piltover had banned a few years ago when someone sent one flying into an office building (Mylo was no longer allowed to set off fireworks at her parties).
Every single year it needed to be perfect . It needed to be better for the party from the year prior, and it needed to get people talking about the party next year. She wouldn’t rest until it was so, and she’d be lying if she said it didn’t take an unhealthy chunk of her sanity each year.
Granted, a few years ago she’d managed to find help. Caitlyn remembers, half with remorse and half with fondness, the first year she’d had someone at her house every single day in the lead up to each party. The teasing insults about how she was too uptight, the admittedly poorly decorated Christmas cookies that ended up being her favorites, and the nights spent by the fireplace, cuddled up after a day full of baking and hanging decorations along the walls.
Caitlyn hisses in pain as she nicks herself with the knife she’d been holding while cutting up fruit for the charcuterie board. A voice calls out behind her, “Sprout? You alright in there?”
Jayce walks in a moment later, a strand of garland in hand. He’s already reaching for a paper towel, handing it to her to hold over her bleeding finger before she can even respond to his question.
“Thank you,” she says, offering him an appreciative smile. He nods, walking over to take a look at the charcuterie board, whistling lowly.
“Looks good. You’re gonna knock it out of the park this year, as per usual.”
Caitlyn can’t contain the scoff that escapes her as she stares at the board as if it had wounded her. “Don’t mock me,” she retorts. He gives her a puzzled look, and she’d feel guilty for her outburst if she didn’t have twenty different things running through her brain at the moment.
Especially when one of those things sports pink hair and a kind smile that she knows she doesn’t deserve.
“Hey,” Jayce places a hand on her shoulder, softly guiding her to the bathroom to grab the first aid kit. “It’s going to be great. I know this year hasn’t been… ideal, but don’t sell yourself short.”
The year having not been “ideal” is definitely an understatement, but Caitlyn decides not to mention that, and instead simply hums her acknowledgement. He wraps a bandage around her finger, but Caitlyn feels a million miles away. Her mind is on the cookies she still has in the oven and a new idea she has for the snack bar set up. On the guest list and how it feels as if someone is just missing, which she is quick to remind herself is because someone is missing.
Jayce has known Caitlyn since she was born, and she was no stranger to him reading every microexpression that crossed her face, even the ones she fought so hard to hide. Before he could launch into whatever long-winded, heartwarming speech he has planned, though, his phone rings. He picks it up, and Caitlyn feels herself cringe at the way his face lights up just from seeing the contact profile light up on his screen.
“It’s Viktor. Do you mind if I…” he trails off, motioning toward the door with his head and she waves him off. She tries not to, really she does, but she can’t help but eavesdrop on the bits and pieces of conversation from the hallway.
“I’m at Cait’s. No, I didn't plan on it. Tonight? I don’t know V,” there's a lull in the conversation, followed by hushed whispers from Jayce, and it feels like a knife is being slotted between Caitlyn’s ribs. One “I love you” later and Jayce is back in the bathroom with a guilty look on his face.
“Hey, do you mind if I head out now? V got off work early and I haven’t seen him in a while—”
“I understand, go. Be with him,” Caitlyn offers, cutting Jayce off before he can talk himself into an even deeper hole. She smiles, assures him she’ll have to problem decorating herself, but she can feel the knife in her ribs twist as the front door closes shut behind Jayce.
Her heart sinks further when she takes a moment to look at all the half empty boxes strewn across her living room. Garland and lights spilling across the couch, accompanied by the smell of burning coming from the kitchen.
Caitlyn bites her lip, and forces the tears of frustration poking at her waterline to stay down.
Cookies were always Vi’s thing , she thinks bitterly to herself, as she races across the house to salvage whatever’s left of the cookies.
Vi is over the moon when Powder comes home for Winter break. From the second she walks through the door, she doesn’t even get a second to set her things down before her older sister is hauling her off to the living room and asking for every detail.
When Powder isn’t home, Vi feels an overwhelming emptiness in the center of her chest. It’s there whenever her family isn’t all together, to be fair. She felt it when Vander went away for the first time when they were little after their mom’s funeral, she felt it when Mylo and Claggor moved out to kickstart an old record shop together, she even felt it when Uncle Silco went overseas for a Summer for work. With Powder back, the boys in town, and Silco calling to let them know he’d be there for the holidays, Vi had never been more happy (especially when she saw how Powder’s face lit up at the mention of Uncle Silco coming in the next week or so).
So, she’s confused when on Christmas day with a full living room, loud voices, and a dining table that barely seats her eclectic family, she still feels so dissatisfied. She manages to click some of it together when Ekko drops by later that afternoon to visit the family, namely Powder.
Ekko was a good kid, one Vi was grateful Powder had gotten to grow up around. With her, Mylo, and Claggor being older, Powder tended to get left behind. When Ekko had moved onto the block, they’d clicked almost instantly. They bonded over the weird inventions they’d make out of the scraps they found in Silco’s office and Benzo’s boxes of junk in the attic, and once they got older it didn’t take long for that friendship to blossom into something a bit more.
Vi liked Ekko. She liked Ekko with Powder. She loved , more than anything, seeing how happy he made her sister. Which is why she felt like punching herself when that ugly tendril of bitterness springs up from her gut, crawling and making its way through her chest.
She feels it wind around her ribs when Ekko pulls Powder into a hug that’s so tight you’d think they hadn’t seen each other in years. She feels it puncture her lungs, spilling a poison she knows all too well as jealousy when they exchange cheesy couples sweaters as their gifts. She feels it cling to her heart, grip unyielding, when Ekko wraps an arm around Powder’s waist, pressing a kiss to her temple.
Before she can even process what she’s feeling, her feet are moving toward the door, grabbing her jacket on the way, and slamming the door behind her. She tries to drown out the resentment with the sound of her feet hitting the pavement. Her laboured breathing by no means comes from any sort of exertion, and it only serves to make the guilt tightening her chest that much more powerful.
The guilt burns away the vines of envy that had her heart in a chokehold, and before long it burns itself out, too. She almost wishes it hadn’t, though, because now all she’s left with is this hollow feeling in its place.
Yesterday was Caitlyn’s Christmas Eve party. She assumed so, at least. It wasn’t as if she was going to ask around. Though she figured the lack of details from Mylo and Claggor on what they’d spent their Christmas Eve doing was answer enough. She knew she wasn’t going to be invited, and in all honesty it wasn’t a big deal. She’d never really liked those parties anyway. It was a little too much glitz and glamor for her, not enough booze in the eggnog.
But then she thinks of that smile, spreading wide and unimpeded across an otherwise stoic face. She fucking loved that smile. She missed that smile.
She missed Caitlyn .
Admitting it to herself took a heavier blow than she’d anticipated, and she’s thankful she’s walked herself to a park so she can sit down, put her head in her hands and think.
Is she thinking about me ? she wonders. Her hands drift into her jacket pocket, wrapping around her phone.
Does she still use the cookie recipe I shared with her? Vi pulls the phone out, her hand falling to the long abandoned text conversation like muscle memory.
Would she? She hits the call button.
It only takes two rings before Vi is hanging up the call, chest heaving slightly as her face heats up.
Shit.
Her feet lead her back home, where she finds her family sitting around in the living room, some old Christmas movie playing in the background. None of them are paying attention to it, too caught up in their own conversations. It makes Vi smile, and it’s almost enough to quell her embarrassment from moments before.
Almost.
She heads to the kitchen, and rummages around in the fridge until she finds what she’s looking for.
“Vi? You coming?”
“In a minute,” she calls back, cracking open the beer bottle and taking two long swigs. She sighs in momentary relief, and makes her way to her family.
Jayce is of the opinion that holding two huge parties within the span of a week is an unnecessary attack on Caitlyn’s own health. Caitlyn is of the opinion that Jayce is a coward.
The New Years party is probably the one everybody looks forward to the most, and Caitlyn is not clueless as to why. She tries her best to keep alcohol out of the Christmas Eve celebration, focusing more on gift exchanges and food. The New Years party, though, is when she goes all in on the champagne and wine, which is why all of the “fun” stories come from this party.
Damn alcoholics, the lot of them.
It’s also about the only time of year Caitlyn buys alcohol anyways. Aside from just generally not enjoying most alcohol, aside from the ones Jayce mixes for her on occasion, it’s no secret that she’s also a major light-weight.
In fact, most of the alcohol-induced new years stories are about her.
Two years back, Caitlyn had made a show of lighting a firework sideways and nearly ruining Mel’s new car (she was also sacked from firework duties along with Mylo). Three years ago, perhaps in the most memorable instance of them all, she’d made out with a pink-haired girl who she’d just met a week prior in the middle of the party, entirely ignoring the audience of party guests around her.
That memory was perhaps memorable for rather unsavory reasons now, but a notable piece of her drunken antics nonetheless. Now, she was determined to not make a scene. Not this year. As the party guests piled in and helped themselves to the free beverages, Caitlyn felt rather proud that she’d stayed away. Instead she walked around, interacting with the guests. She caught up with Viktor about his latest project at work, interrogated Loris about the entirely too obvious glances he kept making at Seb, and even had a decently awkward-silence-free conversation with Claggor, who had decided to stop by just for an hour or two.
Caitlyn whipped around quickly at the feeling of someone tapping at her shoulder, and immediately smiled and pulled Mel into a hug when she saw her.
“Mel! How have you been?” she pulled away from the hug, looking Mel over in her extravagant attire. She always did know how to make an appearance.
“I’ve been well. I’m sorry I couldn’t make it to Christmas Eve, my mother needed me for some… family matters,” she rolls her eyes, but that charming smile never wipes from her face, and Caitlyn hums her understanding.
“Oh! I almost forgot. Maddie,” Mel calls over her shoulder, and over bounds a girl around Caitlyn’s age, a low cut blouse hugging her torso, and blue eyes sparkling with mischief. “Caitlyn, this is Maddie. She’s a family friend, visiting from overseas.”
Mel doesn’t actually sound all too pleased about Maddie’s visiting, but Caitlyn can hardly seem to center on that. She puts her hand out to Maddie to shake it, and is pleasantly surprised by how different and unfamiliar the softness of her palms feel against hers.
“It’s a pleasure to meet ya. I’ve heard a lot of good things.”
“The pleasure’s all mine,” Caitlyn echoes back, trying to stop her eyes from wandering down the girl's chest, and instead choosing to focus on her eyes. They’re a pale blue, surrounded by a cluster of freckles and orange hair. She’s relieved to find that the blue isn’t the same slightly brighter blue that she’d been so accustomed to.
By the time Maddie and Mel have wandered back off into the party, Caitlyn has already made her way to the bar.
The night became a blur after that. She can briefly recall Jayce pulling a glass of champagne from her hands and replacing it with water, but almost everything after that is mashed into a flurry of emotions and scenes that felt as if they were playing out in slow motion.
It was at this point in the night that Caitlyn would come to an astute and devastating realization. That out of everyone here, her only real friend was Jayce, with everyone else simply being another piece of space that she’d pulled into her orbit.
Mel had been a friend of Jayce’s before her, and even then they hardly spoke outside of the few times a year they saw each other at group gatherings. Loris was a friend she’d made all on her own, and she’d felt proud of that until she realized how much more he seemed to enjoy talking to Seb than her. When was the last time they’d had a real conversation.
Hell, even Mylo, who she’d once thought she at least had a fun banter with, was almost definitely just here for the free booze. She didn’t miss the suspicious, betrayed looks he gave her when he thought she wasn’t looking; and he was, yet again, the friend of a friend who had simply been sucked into the whirlpool that was Caitlyn Kiramman.
The countdown had started, and Caitlyn just barely registered the presence of someone next to her. She looked over and down to be met with a shock of orange hair and blue eyes.
Maddie.
“You throw a pretty good party, Kiramman,” she said, voice sultry, and breath stained with the smell of alcohol. “Though you don’t seem to enjoy it nearly as much as the others.”
Her hand was rubbing Caitlyn’s arm, and she had no intention of stopping her. “Curse of being the host, I suppose.”
“Well I hardly think that’s fair,” Maddie pouted, hand trailing further up to rest at the crook of Caitlyn’s neck and shoulder. “Even with the champagne you’re so tense.”
Her eyes found Caitlyn’s, and then her lips. When Caitlyn looked into her eyes, she had to be careful not to let her alcohol-riddled mind twist her face into that of another. The guests around her were counting down.
“10!”
“You sure know how to make a first impression.”
“8!”
“A good one, I hope?”
“4!”
“That depends, did you come over here to exchange pleasantries, or something else?”
“2!”
“Why don’t you find out?”
“Happy New Year!”
Caitlyn’s lips were on Maddie’s before she could stop herself, hands grabbing at her waist with the force of every emotion she’d been forced to confront this terrible night.
Maddie gasps as she’s backed up against a wall, lips falling open in an overly obvious opportunity for Caitlyn. She takes it, her tongue slipping into the ginger's mouth, with her thumbs slipping under her blouse to rub at the soft skin underneath.
Maddie sighs into the kiss, hands running through the long strands of Caitlyn’s hair.
Caitlyn wonders if Maddie’s doing this on purpose. If somehow she knew just what to say and do to get her going, to get her thinking and remembering when she’d tried so hard not to.
“I knew you’d be sweet, Cupcake.”
“Vi,” Caitlyn huffs out against Maddie’s lips, and in an instant they’re gone.
“Vi?” Maddie throws back at her, eyebrows raised and hands coming to push Caitlyn back from her.
Caitlyn’s mouth hangs open dumbly, looking for the words to explain herself when she realizes that there are none. Maddie scoffs a laugh, seeming a bit more amused than she is annoyed, before she walks past Caitlyn, probably to leave.
Caitlyn doesn’t need to turn around to know there are eyes on her. Instead, she does the best she can to keep her head down as she makes her way to the bathroom, which is thankfully empty, and locks herself inside.
Her hands run down her face, before she turns on the sink, splashing cold water against her cheeks, trying to sober up. It doesn’t work, not really, and now she’s just drunk, embarrassed, and wet. Great.
With a groan, she takes to the floor and leans her back against the bathtub wall. Her eyes take great interest in the patterns on the ceiling, and she only realizes that she hadn’t turned off the sink faucet when she tries and fails to listen in on a pair of party guests talking outside the door.
She feels around her pockets, and is thankful to find that at least she hadn’t put her phone down somewhere else during her drunken stupor. She means to call Jayce, hoping that he can talk her down from the embarrassment of the night, when her eyes land on something else.
1 Missed Call From: Violet <3
Her breath hitches. When she’d seen that notification just about a week ago, it had her chest stirring with anxiety and unwanted feelings that she quickly buried in another failed attempt at baking cookies.
Now, when her eyes so much as trace over that name – Violet – she feels her surroundings come into focus, and the hammering of her heart comes down to a patter.
Would she? Caitlyn wonders.
She presses the call button.