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Kaleb Dean Sivaj

0 · 1,197 views · located in The Bronx, New York

a character in “Untamed Things”, as played by leisurelyatwar





rahmi liyana farooq

N I C K N A M E (S)

M A J O R (S)
fine art, art history


nut, god of air and space

G E N D E R & S E X U A L I T Y
femme non binary queer

pakistani and egyptian

tracy, california





H E I G H T & W E I G H T
5’2”, 125lbs


Her skin was a warm brown, with freckles dusted across her cheeks and nose. In the summer as her melanin deepend freckles would appear across her shoulders as well. Her features are oversized in a way that you only really saw depicted in drawing. Large hazel eyes framed by thick lashes sat below her bold brows. Her lips were plump, often when she spoke she would make sure not to reveal her still-crooked teeth.

Two hoops on one nostril and one around her septum decorate the width of her nose. Sometimes she would swap them out for something more ornamental, though always gold or silver. Often wearing large hoops to match, she always coordinates her jewelry. Piercings decorate along the outside of her ear, often adorning glittering jewels and a lotus tattooed beside the tragus of one of her ears.

Most of Rahmi’s tattoos are either sentimental, a joke or just a flash sale she happened across. Writhing across the top of her hand is a tattoo of a snake, this was a flash sale from a local artist. Above the snake on her bicep she has the letters β€œkiki”, which she got when the song was trending as a joke (talk your shit okay but she got hella followers out of that). On her opposing arm she has a cowboy boot tattooed to represent Jessie from toy story, who she was obsessed with as a girl. Lower on that same arm she has dice, which was a sentimental tattoo with (npc? Your character?).

Though Rahmi preferred to be low maintenance, her hair made it impossible. It fell past her waist, the multi-textured curls ranging from waves to coils. Sometimes she would go to a salon to get her hair braided, like when she was expecting to be busy soon and wanted something lower maintenance. Mostly she just lets it down and out like a glorious mane.

As a girl, her mother always liked putting Rahmi in dresses. However Rahmi always preferred her twin’s clothes - she’d always steal his shirts growing up. When she began to develop she hated the attention it brought her so she always made sure to get clothes two sizes too big. Her mother would complain, then on the rare occasion Rahmi felt like dressing more feminine her mother always made a big show of it only deterring her further. Though now on her own she feels less obligation to dress for others and sometimes will enjoy dressing feminine.


video games, lemonade, google phone, oat milk, documentaries, vines, early mornings, fresh cut grass, indian food, vegan food, dressing like a boy, her favorite characters on her clothes, buying local, networking with other artists, collaboration, pasta

cardigans, gossip, poor cable maintenance, libertarians, fake woke culture, hula hooping, escalators, too many buttons, clutter, apple products, wearing jeans, sweet cocktails, early mornings,



Growing up as the oldest of five, Rahmi defaulted into a caretaker role early on. It’s just what the oldest girl was supposed to do. She learned to make her needs as small as possible so that she had more space for others. Others called it low-maintenance, but her therapist she keeps cancelling on says otherwise.

Though she has a maternal nature, she has a laid back demeanor and a delight for absurdity that still led to moments of chaos. She is one to take a fleeting thought and run with it until what she’s left with is some sort of fever dream. When she finds someone who appreciates that or better yet, collaborates with the vibes - she’s found a friend for life.

Creativity was always an outlet for Rahmi, be it for a distraction or expression. She was naturally talented with a keyboard, teaching herself to play by ear at a young age. Often in class she’d draw instead of listening in class. She enjoyed things others called weird like anime and obscure indie video games. Some people teased her time to time but for the most part she flew under the radar. She never liked much attention anyways.

When she went off to college and began her twitch stream is when her personality began to flourish. Independent from the responsibilities of caring for her younger siblings and helping tend the home, and out from her twins shadow, Rahmi was finally free to be herself.

Liberated, Rahmi learned to take pleasure in the mundane moments. She could have just as much fun painting her nails in the quad by herself as at a party with friends. Still, it was strange not having her little sisters hanging around. Rahmi learned she loved the presence of others, though not necessarily always engaging with them directly - which is why she loved streaming on twitch so much.

She struggles with allowing others to help her out, not one to put her problems on others. Often putting things off until the last minute, she struggles to complete projects unless there’s a threat of a looming deadline. She would much rather stress herself out rather than prolong the process. Despite this, she does perform well under pressure and somehow always manages to pull through.



Somewhere between the late 1960s and early 70s, her father and his siblings immigrated to California, followed shortly by her grandparents, both firmly in the middle class until they hit the states. While her grandfather ran a lucrative accounting firm (of which most of the sons helped run), they all needed to start from scratch. This meant taking on multiple jobs, living in an all-too small apartment, and doing everything they could to build a better life. By contrast, Rahmi’s mother had a smoother ride given that she'd gone to an American university before deciding to live there permanently.

After two years of dating (and naturalization) they married and started their humble, but content family. Rahmi was the first (her twin was just ten minutes younger) of five children. Though technically the oldest, the role of golden child was granted to her brother instead. While her parents wanted the best for all their children, they obviously put more emphasis on Yousof’s future. Instead of being pushed to join extracurriculars and take AP classes, Rahmi was expected to help out at home.

Her grades were never perfect, but they didn’t have to be. Yousof was the one who had to be perfect. Sometimes it felt like her parents preferred to pit them against each other. As they grew older they began to drift. She didn’t blame him for being the favorite, just sometimes it was easier to keep a distance. Sometimes even their friends wouldn’t know they had a twin, though it’s not like they looked much alike. The one thing they did do together was play video games, it was the one thing they could always do and not have to think or talk about the bullshit their parents brewed between them and just actually enjoy one another.

Though her brother was the same age as her, Rahmi ended up being the one who was expected to look out for their younger siblings. Being that they were all afab, Rahmi decided to teach them all the things she wished her mom told her. It did backfire when someone’s dad came to career day to talk about being a police officer, and their youngest sister asked him if he was a bastard.

Because she spent a lot of time helping out at home, Rahmi began to draw in her free time as it was something she could take anywhere that cost nothing. When she’d get bored with that her parents had an old keyboard in the basement she’d sometimes fiddle with. She was always creatively inclined, she learned by doing. First it started with drawing anime characters from the shows she liked or some bizarre rendition of one of her younger sister’s drawings from school, or just trying to figure out the notes to play a song by closing her eyes and listening and she played the keys. She didn’t really consider herself to be talented, she just enjoyed it.

Eighth grade her art teacher noticed she had an aptitude for color theory, showcasing her work at a couple of open houses the school hosted. It was the first time anyone ever really told her she was special at something. She started a tiktok and an instagram to share her art and promote her online store where she began selling pieces she made. Her art evolved over the years but they always included wild complementary colors, feminine figures and bizarre mindscapes.

Lindenwood reached out to her regarding a scholarship in their visual arts department. It wasn’t UC Davis but it was still pretty damn good. Much to her family's surprise she was thriving in university. She even made enough from selling her art to buy a laptop, drawing tablet, even a keyboard. The keyboard was more for fun when she reached a creative rut, but she enjoyed it.

When she and other people in the dorm began playing games together, Rahmi began a twitch stream. People enjoyed her chill demeanor, her inability to control her facial expressions and not to mention laughing when she lost her shit. One of the few people in their building who only had one other roommate, Rahmi has more space than others to work with so her corner of the room has become a hang space to chill and game.

Things were going really well for her and for once it seemed like her parents were proud of her, but it came with a cost. Yousof failed out of UC Davis, backsliding into the disappointment role and pushing Rahmi to be the golden child. The guilt she felt was debilitating and yet satisfying at the same time? Then the satisfaction only compounded the guilt. She never wanted Yousof to feel the way she did.

Lindenwood offered a scholarship that Yousof could apply to, it only made sense that he would come here. Rahmi had decided to double major so she was still enrolled. Their parent’s encouraged it. At first Rahmi didn’t know what she was supposed to do, if playing tour guide would be belittling or if just letting him figure it out would make him feel overwhelmed. The last couple years they spent mostly apart, whoever they were whenever they used to spend their time together they’d both changed since then.

Somehow, things changed for the better. Turns out without their parents around, they got along really well. Her twitch followers had no idea she had a twin and enjoyed discovering that fun fact, often asking for him to join her on her streams.




Aerokinesis The user can create, shape and manipulate air, the common name given to the layer of atmospheric gases and various compounds (mostly oxygen and nitrogen) surrounding the planet Earth that is retained by Earth's gravity, and possibly wind, movement of air relative to the surface of the planet. It is an important factor in determining and controlling climate and weather, and the generating force of most ocean and freshwater waves. Wind occurs because of horizontal and vertical differences in atmospheric pressure, and include breezes, squalls, gusts, whirlwinds, zephyrs, gales, tempests, and hurricanes. Since air cannot be seen by conventional methods, neither can the attacks and derivatives formed by/from it, making it an invisible and versatile weapon that is very difficult to block and dodge.

Cosmic Energy ManipulationUser can create, shape, manipulate and absorb cosmic energies of planets, stars, quasars, voids, nebulas, galaxies or anything related to cosmos. They can also effect the whole energy system of the universe at a higher level.

video games, making quick meals, puzzle solving, painting, digital drawing, sculpting, piano, amateur video editing, mukbang, pictionary

Patience is a necessary strength of the oldest of five. Rahmi had to teach her younger sisters a lot, often helping them with their homework or teaching them how to do tasks around the house or video games against their mother’s wishes. She is an incredible teacher for that reason. Communication is another strongsuit of Rahmi. She often acted as a mediator between her parents and the other siblings, which made her excellent at conflict resolution. Then of course there is her art. Though she’s by no means created anything revolutionary, she’s thrown away the pressure to be the first at something and instead just follows what she loves.

Her sisters are by far her biggest weakness. They missed her terribly when she left for school and while they’ve grown accustomed to the distance, Rahmi still feels a sense of guilt. In general her friendships tend to fill that void of not having her sister’s around, and thus she develops the same kind of attachments that make it easy for people to use them against her.


So begins...

Kaleb Dean Sivaj's Story

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Character Portrait: Kaleb Dean Sivaj
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No Use For a Name mumbled over the speakers that hung in the corners of the store front, the scratchy pixelated sound barely audible over the metronome of the bass guitar being played behind the tall counter top by a shaggy haired male. Vintage frames perched on top of his head pushed back the dark locks that continued to fall in front of his dark eyes. Softly humming a tune, he almost didn't notice when someone snuck from behind the counter.

"What's up, motherfucker?!" Startled, Kaleb looked before him to see none other than Robert, the drummer of Shevvery and Kaleb's current roommate. Grinning slightly, Kaleb set his bass down, glancing at the clock to see it was time to lock the front doors to the store. "It's time for us to rock out with our cocks out." Robert joked crudely, grabbing a toy from the shelf - a plushie in the shape of an old favored cartoon.

Walking from behind the counter, Kaleb's keys jangled as he went to the door, shaking his head at Robert. "Sorry dude I don't go that way." Kaleb joked, locking the front and dimming the lights. Returning his keys to the pocket of his slim fit khaki shorts, he turned to face his friend.

Robert opened him mouth to speak once more, but was cut short by the shrill ring of the phone sitting on the counter where Kaleb had just been. Picking up the cell, Robert rolled his eyes as he glanced at the face of the phone, smirking as he tossed the phone to Kaleb. "Right on time, lover boy. Time to check in."

Kaleb was used to his friends light teasing, being that he was the only guy in the band that was in a relationship. While the rest of the guys spent after parties snorting lines and having girls hang off of them like tacky jewelry. Kaycee kept such close tabs on Kaleb most of the time he couldn't let loose if he wanted to. She went to most of the bands shows, when her schedule allowed it. Truth was she didn't trust Kaleb, which Kaleb was well aware of. It had been a problem in their relationship for months, putting a strain on the couples relationship, but Kaycee had done so much for him at this point there was no way he could just leave her...even if she did blow up his phone incessantly. Sighing, he answered her call. "Hey, babe."

He could hear her smile in her response, "Kale," she said softly. Already he imagined her at the boutique she spent most of her time at, working and shopping both. She probably was behind her computer, playing with her rings as her azure eyes glanced around the shop sheepishly as she snuck in a call with her boyfriend. The visual made him smile.

"I can't talk long, Rob's already here to pick me up." Rob made a motion to hurry Kaleb along. They were to meet the rest of the band at the dive bar an hour early to set up. Supposedly their agent randomly got a call for an event and the pay was generous, most likely due to the late notice. As he walked around the shop doing his last minute duties Kaycee went on to explain her day.

Rob followed Kaleb around the store, making obscene gestures in annoyance. Playing the role of a good sport, Kaleb just laughed quietly, gently speaking to Kaycee. "Babe, I really have to go, I'm sorry." Kaleb finally said as Rob began to create an obnoxious beat using the countertop and shelving as his instrument, "Rob's getting impatient. But I love you, let me know when you get home so I know your safe." Even with his back to Rob, Kaleb could feel Robert roll his eyes.

Kaycee sighed, " careful at the show. I wish I didn't have work," he was certain the only reason she even wanted to go to the show was to make sure he didn't have some girl to catch his eye, since that's all she ever thought happened when she wasn't around, "I love you too, have fun."

"Ok, bye."

Hanging up, Kaleb couldn't help but to feel a certain sadness, perhaps in knowing that Kaycee was sad. She was his first real girl friend, first real love that loved him back - that loved him more than he loved her. Summer could never love him, nor any other man for that matter, how he loved her. She was perfect, and as a memory of her struck him, he glanced at the tattoo of a golden sun on his inner wrist hidden under his bracelets. But Kaycee was there for him in a way no one else had ever been...

"Yo, bruh" Rob's gruff voice snapped Kaleb back to reality. Rob stood by the door, keys in hand to his car and gesturing Kaleb to follow him. Dazed for just a moment, Kaleb pushed his frames onto the bridge of his nose and shook his mane out, shaking off the confusion he had settled in his own mind. "Sorry man, lets go." He shrugged on his denim button up over his white Ramones tee that hugged across his chest. Grabbing his bass guitar, Kaleb was sure to turn off all the lights before following Rob out to his truck, making sure to lock the door behind him.

"Alright man, this is a big gig. Half of the Bronx are gonna be there." Rob's heavy typical Bronx accent was almost laughable to Kaleb as he got situated in the passenger seat.

Pulling up his tube socks with the vans logo cuffing his calf, Kaleb retied his black vans as he shrugged. "I'm not sweating it, just going to do what I always do."

And with a glint in his eye Rob withdrew an 8 ball of coke, waving it before Kaleb. "And what we always do, works."

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Kaleb Dean Sivaj Character Portrait: Juliet James Character Portrait: Scully 'Spitz' Rollins Character Portrait: Jaylene Sullivan
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"What the fuck, man?!"

Kalebs attention snapped to the two behind him. Elijah was helping Rob bring in the remaining of the drum set while Kaleb led the way with his amp and bass. Greco had already went in to speak with someone part of the event staff leaving Kaleb stuck with dumb and dumber.
"You think you girls can stop bitching at each other for just ten minutes for once?" Kaleb scoffed, his eyes quickly scanning the bar they had entered. Micks wasn't an unfamiliar bar to the band, they had spent many Friday nights at the very same place getting smashed off beers and too strong drinks. Scantily clad curvy frames piled along the bar, long tresses being toyed with seductively and smooth tanned legs crossed elegantly. Perhaps Kaycee had a reason to mistrust him.

He could still hear the two behind him bicker in hushed whispers, like siblings who had been yelled at by their parent. Chuckling to himself, Kaleb averted his eyes to the ground before him as he went to the stage to set up his equipment, choosing to ignore his band mates.

The bar was filling up slowly but surely, every time Kaleb would peek up it was as if the crowd had multiplied. Some people had already gathered on the dance floor, drinks in hand as a salute to the DJ. As he bent over his speakers to adjust his feedback, a hand clasped his shoulder with familiarity.

Kaleb stood to meet his own dark eyes with the emerald iris' of Greco, the leading vocals of Shevvery. "We're on in ten, go loosen up a bit before we get started." He said as he gestured to the bar where Rob and Elijah had already made it too, obviously trying to flirt with the blonde on the other side of the bar. Nodding with amusement, Kaleb carefully set down his guitar as Greco pulled together the tiny details that he always seemed to do so well. When Kaleb met Greco a year back, he would have never thought he would grow to admire the guy so much. The man had been through hell and back several times and still gets hit with more shit and stands sturdy as the wall of China.

"Sorry gorgeous, are these boys bothering you?" Kaleb asked as he draped his arms over the shoulders of either man, pulling them close to him, their reactions almost comical, and their words conflicting one another making both of their sentences garbled. Bemused, Kaleb made eye contact with the petite bartender, smirking handsomely. "Could I just bother you with a bud? Promise you won't hear from me again until I need a refill." He winked playfully as Elijah and Rob rolled from beneath him grumbling with disappointment as they walked away.

As he glanced over his shoulder, a certain dark figure at the bar struck a memory within him. "Spitz?" He asked himself, only able to remember the name for it being so fitting as to what Kaleb wanted to do to the then younger drug dealer. His skin tone had darkened perhaps a little, most likely due to summer, and his then lithe shape had grown slightly - but there was no denying the familiar face. He remembered when all he had wanted to do was bash it in.

The bar tenders pretty little voice brought him back, taking a dazed expression as he looked back to the girl. "Sorry babe, was in my own little world." He said as he took the beer, lacking the enthusiasm he had formerly manifested. "Could you start a tab for me and the rest of my boys? Here's my card." He said as he handed her the tiny bit of plastic. Some how that card made him feel so legit, like he was finally on the same level as everyone else instead of finding jobs on Craigslist just to get by. However seeing Spitz made him feel back at square one.

He considered it fate that he had seen Spitz when he would think about it all later that night, it had prepared him for the true shocker.

Just as his beer passed his lips, an unmistakable voice cut through the speakers, stabbing his chest like a knife. Mouth agape and beer hoisted, slowly Kaleb turned to take the stage where the light was shining down on none other than Jaylene Sullivan. If he hadn't tightened his grip, Kaleb was sure he would've instead have dropped his beer and perhaps caused a scene. However everything was still.

There standing before him was the girl he had ever shown his dark side too, the only person in the world who truly knew the wild card that used to be Kaleb Dean Sivaj, and she was squeezed into some high brand clothes and hair perfectly manicured so not a hair was out of place. The Jaylene he remembered was effortless, she could walk into a room and not give a fuck - tie up her hair in a messy bun and walk around in a t shirt and still win a beauty pageant. She looked so different he almost wasn't sure if it was her, but he could never forget that voice as she whispered against his chest that last morning they shared.

Over the years he had tried to forget, when he and Summer were still traveling together Summer would never stop whining how she missed Jaylene, "Sodapop". Every time Kaleb would only respond with anger or irritation. However Summer was gone, and sadly most likely dead from overdosing, and here was Jaylene but curvier and more polished than ever.

Her words were lost to him, and he began pinching himself, sure he had fallen into a dream. She was like an Angel framed in the light, and once she exited the stage he felt his body jerk, as if he wanted to go to her. Sucking in a breath, Kaleb pressed himself into the bar as if he could make himself invisible and act like nothing had ever happened. There was no excuse for her leaving the way she did, abruptly and without warning. She had left him the one and only time he needed her, and there was no way he could forgive her for that. Ever.

He got up to leave, beer in hand as he went to the front doors, desperate to escape. Another familiar voice stopped him. "Hello, I'm Greco. We are Shevvery, here to hang out, play some music...indulge in some recreational products." Subtle laughter could be heard as the charming man behind the mic winked casually. Then across the bar, somehow, Greco made eye contact with Kaleb. "I just need my bass man up here so we can start the show, everyone lets call Kale the male to the stage." Once again there was laughter, and as Kaleb battled to choose from running out or just performing and getting the hell out, the spotlight made the choice for him.

The light almost blinded him as it shined onto him, making him the focus of the whole club as some began to chant 'Kale the male' foolishly. It wasn't hard at that point to link with the very pair of green eyes he had been trying to avoid. Praying that she couldn't tell that he had locked eyes with her, Kaleb pulled his glasses from his hair, slipping them on casually. Attempting to seem unphased, Kaleb thrusted his fist into the air with enthusiasm as the crowd cheered, parting around him as he approached the stage.

Taking his bass, Kaleb got situated in front of his mic, trying to seem natural as he smiled to Greco and Elijah beside him. Confused, both men looked at one another, sure that something wasn't right with their friend. Acting as if he hadn't noticed, Kaleb stepped up to his mic clearing his throat before speaking. "Thanks guys. Happy to be here with you. Lets get this party started, huh?!" Once again the sheep before him bleeped as they jumped with much gusto.

Greco took his spot up front, nodding to the others to set them all in time, cuing their opening song perfectly. Everything was going so smoothly, yet Kaleb couldn't untie the knot that had gathered in the pit of his stomach from those penetrating green eyes.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Kaleb Dean Sivaj Character Portrait: Hazel Angel Character Portrait: Alexandra Mikaelsson Character Portrait: Madigan Kennedy Character Portrait: Juliet James Character Portrait: Scully 'Spitz' Rollins
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An illustrious rivulet of fluorescent teal light cascaded over Jaylene, her legs crossed as she stood and her posture tilting towards Spitz. Smiling at him over the brim of her glass, she nipped at the champagne in slow swallows before finally uttering the words, "Thanks for coming." No sooner than the glass had reached its last bubbles, a diligent waiter with striking azure eyes politely took the empty ware from Jaylene's hand and scurried off towards the bar. Raising her brows, she puckered her supple lips, "Damn, they're good, huh?" She nudged Spitz with a playful jab, her hand even caressing the back of his head in a genteel way as the petite digits traced his braids.

Subdued lights turned the stage obscure. Even Jaylene was on the edge of her seat, so to speak. She'd never physically met the band or truthfully looked into them. Admittedly she was going into the entire thing blind with sky-reaching aspirations. A Du Jour collaborator almost passed Jaylene, shortly thereafter pausing and backtracking a bit to greet her with his ornate grin that stretched from ear to ear while he pocketed his wallet.

"Miss Sullivan, a divine pleasure," he exclaimed as he took his hand in hers.
"Thank you," she replied gracefully, "So good to finally meet another editor."
"I hear great things, honey - I just wanted to tell you that if you keep this kind of shit up," he gasped for a minute and clasped a hand over his mouth, "Excuse mwah French. Nothing will stop you from taking over corporate headquarters."
"I wish," she oscillated her head for a moment, "Thanks so much."
"Keep these little twinks prancing around in those waitstaff costumes and I'll be lubricated and ready within the next hour," he giggled, waved a wiggly-fingered hand at Jaylene and cavorted off, "By the way, there's an abundance of models in here dying to get on your line. Take a look, half of em' ain't bad lookin'! Ta-ta!"

ImageAn awkward expression traversed over Jaylene's face as she looked back at Spitz for some reassurance that the conversation actually did in fact occur. Pleadingly, he put both of his hands up as if to say 'beats me'. She laughed quietly, her olive eyes now trained on the stage where band mates were calling their bassist to the front. She would have trailed the spotlight with her sights if Spitz didn't nudge her, causing her to straighten and lean away from him upon the new arrival that was inevitably a customer of his. Her attention span shortened.

"…Everyone let's call Kale the male to the stage."

Kale? Her mind spun wildly out of control for a minute. A bottomless agony in her stomach writhed, the phantom of intimacy and secrecy existing within its amniotic sac. She could feel it coming to life again, coinciding with that ache for her vices. When she reminded herself that just because she didn't often hear the name, didn't mean Kaleb Sivaj was the only one with it, she was calm enough to divert her attention from the band and back to Spitz and his fittingly dressed, attractive new brunette friend. The time spent waiting to introduce herself was hacked open so that recollections could bleed in. She snatched another glass of champagne shamelessly from the drinks Spitz ordered.

She'd left them without a word. Her friends. What was worse was the night Kaleb and herself shared, unbeknownst to their friends or anyone except the housekeeper, for that matter. Funny, it was the night that she cracked the bridge of Spitz' nose with her head that everything got so wild and out of hand with Kaleb. His darkest secret followed them both all the way home, snubbed out by the fire they sparked while rediscovering each other in Jaylene's bed. She could clearly recall the splintering light coming through the window and the scorching inward pain that belonged to her, just evaporating into nothing. And she took his torture, made it her own. The frailty of the image in her mind would have made her quake if she didn't so soon take a big swig of champagne, the only memo of reality being the tinkering of her Tiffany and Co. charm bracelet against the glass.

At full speed she swung back into physical existence. In a robotic sort of way, her hand had come out to meet the brunette's without Jaylene being fully aware of it. A clandestine mood swallowed the pub, its front platform glowing a feeble orange before the band concluded their set. In its shadow only radiated the soft hues from center pieces, giving the bar a sort of enigmatic, underwater look. In the brief moment of darkness Jaylene established the composure she needed, introducing herself deferentially as a fashion editor of Du Jour, then thanking the femme for coming to the show. Whether it was drugs or cars, the Sullivan woman didn't really want to know. But she slipped away, respecting business.

Pinching and flattening herself through the audience, Jaylene clutched a petite briefcase under one arm, careful not to lose it in all the commotion. Before she dared have any more to drink, commerce and negotiations had to be handled. After she met a few models and paid the band, she was free to cut loose. And honestly she could hardly wait. The past few weeks had been long. Seemed like she never got a day off since relocating to The Bronx for Du Jour. For once in her life she felt herself working more than playing. Dismissing the notion or any potential regrets, she pushed her way through until her hips were bumping right against the platform where the musicians were almost done clearing away their equipment. She slunk off to the far side, a shadowy lower section of the stage where she cracked open the briefcase to retrieve an envelope full of cash haphazardly labeled 'Music'.

But what her jade eyes met next couldn't have been told in advance. Even with the pithy unsettling moment when she heard his name. For all that, now it was confirmed. He wasn't an apparition in preceding times. Burnt sienna eyes substantiated a homesickness and candor she wasn't ready to confront. Mick's self-made twilight surged between Kaleb and Jaylene, their words mutually retained by what she speculated as pain, bitterness, and bizarre recollection. A chain of desperate 'I'm sorry's arose in her throat but never made it all the way out. Instead she was speechless, her business-trained android mannerisms taking over again as she imposed the white envelope full of cash, thrusting it toward him wordlessly. Her perception ingested every detail of his handsome veneer, glossing what memories held of him and taking his appeal to a whole new level. But still she couldn't quite digest it. And she couldn't speak. Here she was face to face with Kale, her best friend, her unlooked-for lover whose very lasting impression even still brought chills to her skin to this day. She booked his band, and she didn't even know it. All at once she felt empty but unabridged. Stupid. Senseless.


Nothing surprised him or excited him much anymore. Well, except the skimpy outfits that looked like they were painted on half the girls that showed up and their willingness to be social and outgoing. That at least, made any event compelling. What kept him enlivened was the Ciroc and the incubating anticipated race that would come after-hours. Hazel wasn't anywhere to be seen just yet, and he wouldn't, for any chance in hell, use the Charger in a race should she decide not to show. But he wasn't surprised by Hazel's lateness, she had a habit of pregaming. He wasn't surprised either, to see Jaylene's lustrous silhouette tearing a path under the blinking lights, her likely issued clothes from Du Jour itself and her hands multitasking between placing business cards on tables and pointing in various directions. In between a drink, he texted Hazel asking where the fuck she was at.

He ashed out the cigar, its lasting smack of vanilla soaking into his tongue. Sepia eyes glanced back and forth, his complacent mien never changing even slightly. When he locked eyes with Jaylene, he sensed a familiar impression. He wasn't new to this; she desperately needed a fix. From the looks of her though, she was as clean as a whistle.

She took the stage, drifting towards the microphone with a certain uneasiness in her eyes that most wouldn't distinguish. But Spitz knew. He raised a glass as she spoke, a few following his cue. She had the throng of them cupped in her hands and she hardly knew it but, that was the splendor that came with her. Always did. Not shit changed, he thought to himself. Sometimes even he was dumbfounded by how much time could ameliorate and keep the same person all at once. A resounding ovation took the bar by force as Jaylene left her post, propping the microphone on its stand and letting the light fall dim in her aftermath. In a way, seeing her like that up on stage as a picture of health and glow before a crowd, he hoped she'd never go back to the drugs. She looked good. Made. Professional.

Spitz' vision trailed towards the bar where a unique blond was shuffling through alcohol. He recognized her - he wasn't a stranger to Mick's. She stood out among the rest of them, taut ivory lace wrapping her torso and a bold, small skirt. His best, wordless impression was that she was spewing confidence and frankly didn't give a fuck about much. He made a cognitive note to keep an eye on her and get a word and drink or two in with her before the end of the night. Maybe even invite her to the race, but it was all up in the air. He was known to leave with a few girls on many occasions. To the left of the bar came another doll-looking girl, eyes as wide as the moon. Just from the looks of her he could tell she was here to potentially get a place on a line. Du Jour's line. Maybe make a few connections. But shit, wasn't that what everyone was here for in some way or another?

His eyes were cast away from her when a gruff voice broke over the microphone and a bright beam dripped around the contour of none other but Kaleb Sivaj.

History sure had a tendency of making itself known and very present in Scully's life, but as far as Kaleb went, that shit was old news. They'd both been in New York long enough and Spitz was alert to Kaleb's existence and didn't bother to provoke or push at it. Man to man, neither of them cared for the other. The ebbing memory of the kid's conspicuous anger, jealousy and drug problem was enough to keep Spitz safely distanced from him. He didn't have time for that childish mess anymore - life was business, money, and the pleasure that came with all of the above. But the dude packed a solid group of females, so it was bizarre to see his band taking the bar by force without a gathering of groupies close in tow. And when Jaylene floated over to Spitz' booth, swathing the back of his head with her small-boned fingers and drinking her champagne, his inner deviant grinned with muted competition that so far, he'd won. Besides, out of all the times he'd seen Jaylene in the past few months, she didn't speak a word about Kaleb. Not even that crazy ass girl Summer.

Adios homie, he thought to himself spitefully.

He wrapped an arm around Jaylene's narrow waist, letting it stay loosely disassociated while he ordered a round of drinks. Nodding to her gratitude, he shrugged a little and said over the music, "Gotta' support my kins, right?"

What followed then was a confusing situation for Spitz who found the upcoming conversation nothing but hilarious and strange. His jaw jerked a few times as he gritted his teeth, attempting not to bust the fuck up at the blatant gay designer gushing at Jaylene and about the 'twinks' in the bar. When the man in the mint blazer straightened his collar and sauntered off, grabbing a drink from a tray, Jaylene looked at Spitz with utter comical disbelief in her eyes. In response, he put his hands up, surrendering himself to the hilarity. They were being as polite as what appeared to be business partners or comrades, and that suited Spitz just fine. She could dangle off of his arm like a charm all night if she wanted to. But she wasn't the type of merchandise he'd take home and fuck. He could find that mostly anywhere else.

On the thought of divine looking females, coincidentally the sultry tone of one before him spoke his name. His left hand was just about to raise another cigar to his lips when she arrived, simply dressed but drop dead to the last of inch of her. What embellished the young woman more than anything was her obscure hazel eyes and the dog tags hanging from her neck. A few years ago just the sight of dog tags would make Spitz cringe or squirm, but like most things in this world he came to find it wasn't always what it appeared. As the musicians on stage performed what was slowly becoming a crowd thriller, the noise roaring all about and shaking the very foundation of the bar, Spitz straightened his comportment and stuck the cigar between his teeth and flashed the chestnut-haired woman an angled, mischievous white grin, "Just Spitz is good with me."

He nodded to Jaylene whose blond tresses swayed from her waist as she stood in a more de rigueur fashion, extending a hand to the newcomer. In a gentlemanly manner Spitz motioned to the booth for the woman to take a seat. There was business to be talked or inaugurated. Having taken the hint, Jaylene set down her empty champagne glass and excused herself from the conversation. Spitz positioned himself in his seat so that he sat directly across from Alex, a playful inquisitive look riddling his face, like he had droves of questions about Alex herself. And what would have been expected to escape his mouth, didn't. Alternately, he breathed in the succinct silence of the band's finale, "So what can I do for you?"

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Character Portrait: Kaleb Dean Sivaj Character Portrait: Hudson Livingston Character Portrait: Jaylene Sullivan
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Once he allowed himself to slip into the rhythm, Jaylene was pushed to the back corner of his mind for the time being. That didn't keep him from keeping his head down with his hair half covering his face during most of his performance. Beads of sweat gathered above his brow and at the base of his neck, cold as they would run down his spine. The energy in the bar was unreal, giving Kaleb a natural high as he watched the bodies thrash against one another to the music he and the rest of his band created.

He couldn't even force himself to look back at Jaylene, although he had noticed she began to hang off Spitz just like old times. A twist of jealousy made Kaleb flush with guilt. He had Kaycee, there was no reason to care about what Jaylene was up to, even if they had been pushed together by some strange surge of fate.

The music travelled flawlessly through his finger tips, his voice softly singing back up. It was easy to go through the motions, they had practiced so many times it was like clock work. Time passed quick, and before Kaleb could even realize it the set was over and they were bowing before the applause before rushing off stage.

"What a rush! Did you see that blonde that called us up? Banging!" Robert enthused, shoving Elijah boyishly.

Averting his eyes, Kaleb tied his button down haphazardly around his hips, nervously running his hands through his hair as the realization that he was still in the same building as Jaylene settled in. He had to go, to get out. The red EXIT sign over a side door came into his vision like a gift from God, he could almost hear the angels singing. Looking to his fellow band mates who had begun to haul their equipment onto the cart, he waited for Rob and Elijah to run off before stopping Greco. "Hey man can you grab my stuff? I have to go." He gestured over his shoulder as if to stress his urgency.
Narrowing his eyes, Greco studied Kaleb's face, uncertainty scrawled in his expression. Deciding not to give the man a chance to answer, Kaleb forced a smile and a thank you, turning hurriedly to rush out the door. He could hear Greco begin to say something, but while Kaleb was trying to get away he came face to face with the very one he was hiding from.

Her dumb expression said it all, she hadn't noticed him earlier. He wasn't sure why she thought she would, Jaylene was always so self centered and in her own little world how could she have noticed what was right under her nose. Kaleb couldn't see himself, but as his muscles stiffened he could imagine his expression. Disgust, anger, maybe a little guilt..perhaps if he could look her in the eye long enough she could have been able to see the anguish and pain. However that was the old Kaleb, he told himself. The new Kaleb knew how to control his inner demons, how to smother the fire that threatened to grow from within. With Jaylene before him though; he could feel a spark threaten to ignite his demons.

She had opened her mouth as if to say something...multiple times.

"What? Have something to say?" Kaleb said condescendingly, unable to contain his rage. Greco stepped out from behind him, watching the whole scene with cautious interest. Still Jaylene had yet to speak, reminding Kaleb much of a girl just playing dress up in mommys closet to feel important. "Wow, never thought I'd see the day when Jaylene Sullivan is speechless." He scoffed, rolling his eyes with half amusement.

Confused, Greco stepped between the two, still keeping the gap between them. Kaleb wasn't sure if he was trying to solve the issue or figure out the problem. Thrusting the envelope of cash before her, Kaleb stared at it with ridicule. A dark grin fashioned across his plump lips as he shook his head. His hand swatted at it with slightly more force than he intended, knocking the envelope into Greco.
"I'm not like the rest of the people you seem to surround yourself with now. You can't just throw money at me to solve the issue." He hadn't expected to confront Jaylene, but as she stood before him it came out like word vomit. 5 years he had been forcing himself to forget everything about her, to ignore any memory even containing her briefly. He had never imagined what he would say or do if he were to see her again, in fact he hoped that he wouldn't.

He made no attempt to move around her as he walked past, rudely bumping into her as he rounded onto the dance floor, leaving Greco to mend Jaylenes ego because he stopped caring a long time ago. Gliding across the floor, Kaleb shoved his hand into his pocket to verify the vial of crushed white had remained in his pocket while hopping all over the stage. His high had come down what felt like hours ago, and he could feel his body itch for more. Red hot anger flushed through his veins, as if all the work and time he had put into harnessing himself was out the window from an awkwardly serendipitous encounter between him and an old friend.

"Fuck!" Kaleb shouted as he barged out the door around the front entrance. Throwing his hands into the air in exasperation, Kaleb did a 360 while he attempted to make sense of what just happened. Surreal didn't quite cover it. Gripping the hair at his temples, Kaleb could feel the pressure of an oncoming migraine push against his forehead. Backing into the cold brick wall of the building, he rolled his head back attempting to calm the thoughts that rushed around in his mind.

Then in the silence, suddenly Kaleb became acutely aware that he was not alone.

Slowly, he opened one eye, peeking through his fingers like a shy young boy, although he was more embarrassed of someone witnessing his melt down more than anything else. Even in the dim light he could make out the face, jet black hair fanning away from her golden brushed skin. The girl had an edge to her, carrying herself confidently without having to strip down to the trashy level of the other girls inside the club. Plus, there was something he recognized her face from.

"Hello." He said sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck with a crooked smile. Her camera was expensive, he could tell. Probably was her job, he figured. His eyes went to her tattoos, trying to make them out in the poor lighting. As she shifted, the light shined down onto the sword along her forearm, switching a light bulb within him. "Hit the fan?!" He enthused, remembering when he had gone to see the band at a different bar within the Bronx. With a limited amount of alternative local artist, it wasn't easy to forget a band once you were in the scene. He remembered Kaycee running off in the middle of the set in jealousy as Kaleb watched the girl own the stage effortlessly.

She was gorgeous to say the least, and had the laid back element that made Kaleb want to talk to her. He took a couple steps forward, "I saw you at the Boulevard, you guys rocked it." He complimented, smiling like a fan boy at the woman before him.

He almost forgot why he had stormed out moments ago, then as the memory struck him, Kaleb withdrew the Marlboro Reds from his back pocket. Taking a single cigarette, Kaleb brought it to his lips before lighting the foul habit he had to indulge before offering one to the dark haired vixen that had slunk into his path. "Sorry about that earlier...hope I didn't scare you." He inhaled a long drag, allowing the smoke to roll out his mouth like a waterfall, then twisting and curling into the air as if it knew it was being watched. "Just blowing off some steam, ya know?"


Characters Present

Character Portrait: Kaleb Dean Sivaj Character Portrait: Alexandra Mikaelsson Character Portrait: Juliet James Character Portrait: Scully 'Spitz' Rollins Character Portrait: Jaylene Sullivan
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Scully Rollins

Alex's body language was something crossed between predatory and fluent, every curve of her body following in silken motion. Spitz didn't let it carry off his attention, only stole a few glances before she sat down. Beneath the table he crossed one Gucci boot over the other. When she settled in, the expression on her face reciprocated his impish inquiries. While she spoke of her so called proposition, Spitz withdrew the robust cigar from his mouth, tilted his head back and and let a cloud of smoke roll up towards the ceiling. Once or twice, his Adam's apple bobbed rhythmically against his cocoa skin. He let his head hang back while she talked, only choosing to meet her gaze again when she put in her last piece.

"Hold up ma," an astonished, sardonic chuckle flared up from his throat, "You know what you're asking right now?" He respired deeply again from the cigar, the vanilla tainted smell drifting across the table. Spitz shook his head a few times, tugged at the bill of his snapback and continued, "You know how shady all this sounds? You got a friend… with some friends or," two fingers from each hand jerked in a quotation gesture, "clientele. I mean I'm down for upping my cash-flow, but who the fuck is you? I'ma need a little more information on this little scheme before I consider anything."

Without issue, he rose from the table and snubbed out his cigar in the ash tray just centimeters from Alex's hand. He bent slightly so that his face was within inches of hers, his breath emitting a saccharine aroma, "Can't get myself into trouble with no fine ass female without knowing terms, names, locations, and prices." With every bit of criteria, his index and middle finger hit the table. Maybe something more seductive and inviting would have slithered into the air separating himself and Alex if the record that was spinning didn't skip and the familiar voice of Kaleb crawled right inside Spitz' ear drum, causing his head to whip in the direction of where Jaylene had scampered off to. A snide smirk crept onto his face as he put up his hand, "Don't you go anywhere, beautiful."

Stepping down from the booth, he coasted over to the platform where scattered light and displeased voices littered the stage. Jaylene appeared a little baffled, her lips pursed and the hollow of her cheeks deepening with what was either concern or amusement. Spitz couldn't tell - but like Kaleb's bandmate, stepped in and briefly caught a glimpse of what was going on before Kaleb stormed off. Grunting, Spitz shifted his vision from Greco to Jaylene, "Your mans is salty, huh? Been ignoring him too long since you got to New York." Jokingly he made some foul gesture then slipped an arm around the blond plaything. But when she breathed hotly, bit her lower lip and mentioned Kaleb still using drugs, it hit Spitz. They didn't bump heads. They completely forgot about each other. Had no fucking clue.

"Unbelievable?" Spitz scoffed, "Truth, ma, he probably won't stop. Some people don't change for nothin'. Come on. Come get a drink and sit with me and my new friend, grab ahold of some new models, do your thing. Ain't gotta' be worried about nothin'." He pulled Jaylene away from Greco and the remaining pieces of the band, guided her down the stairs and to the bar while giving Alex a jerk of his head to indicate that she should follow.

They broke apart a small gathering of sorority girls, Jaylene politely bumping and squeezing to get a seat. Even though the young woman was their age, her nonmanualism made her appear so much older. Instead of a crop top and cut off shorts, she was in a fashioned sort of business suit, hardly showing any skin. Not the girl he remembered from Belleville. But what she was showing was still enough to make men insane. Her composure only popped at the stitching for maybe a minute or so until she was right back to work again. It even occurred to him that he should ask if she was okay or wanted to talk about it. However, Spitz didn't want to make it a piece more of his business. All he wanted was for the night to go smoothly for everyone and keep his ego steadily climbing.

He retrieved another cigar, lit it, and called for the blond bartender's attention, announcing proudly, "Drinks for all the ladies at the bar on me. Any young, beautiful things needing some line of work in fashion, the editor of Du Jour is right here and waiting." He pointed to Jaylene who waved an intimidating hand that brandished a pen.

Jaylene Sullivan

"What? Have something to say?"

It didn't mean to happen - well, she didn't intend for it. But in reply, she sputtered, laughing and gawking at Kaleb. Disbelief, shitty luck and desolation took her in entirety like a tidal wave. What had already started as toxic continued into a worse, venomous onslaught on Kaleb's part. Her stance stiffened, but one heel-adorned foot anxiously tapped against the floor while he talked. She could feel a slight pique threatening to make a more vicious girl from the past resurface - someone she didn't want to know anymore. Kaleb? He had every right in the world to be furious. To feel betrayed. Because she did him dirty. But the way Kaleb was acting was far beyond volatile, his coffee eyes darkening with wide vehemence as his voice grew louder. And she was sure she couldn't have expected him to just get over it, to be okay and give her a 'hello' handshake or a pat on the back or even thank her for having him at the campaign party. The fact that she looked like a dumbfounded child upon catching his stare probably didn't give the best impression either.

When his hand swiped away the envelope containing over five hundred dollars, she gasped with mock disturbance. Really it wasn't surprising but maybe a little painful to know that he was… still exactly who she knew before. Bittersweet but dejecting. She ran a hand through her hair, "Holy shit," she began to deride, her tone a little unintentionally proud, "You're wild eyed. You're still coked out!" Not even a millisecond passed before he shoved her and thundered off. She stumbled back a bit, one hand pressed to her forehead. As much as she wanted to follow him, sweep his silhouette with her eyes and contemplate making amends, she just couldn't.

Spitz was late to intervene, but carrying himself with his usual overconfidence and attempting to eclipse any existing remnants of Kaleb. With ease he stole an armful of Jaylene, hugging her a little to him and making a joke. For a moment, her focal point didn't even remotely involve Spitz.

The oceanic aura of the event she had planned fit so fortuitously over Kaleb. Sheltered sea-colored light followed him all the way through the doors until he had vanished from her life once again. He was an unparalleled image of somehow a happier past life, its seams bursting but sewn over with bad jokes, good parties and corporeal friendships. She suppressed an embarrassed, painful simper as she bit her lower lip then ran her tongue along her bottom row of teeth, "All this time and he's still coked out." Drawing her hand from her forehead, she face palmed and laughed to herself, "Un-fucking-believable."

"Unbelievable? Truth, ma, he probably won't stop. Some people don't change for nothin'. Come on. Come get a drink and sit with me and my new friend, grab ahold of some new models, do your thing."

Even if she wanted to attest, to deteriorate into 'Soda', take Kaleb's side over all other things and bash Spitz in his nose, she couldn't. This time, he was right. Spitz was right! Rather than triumphing over that truth, she felt a little twinge of odd, covetous misery. Silently she grinned, leaned her head into his sternum for a moment then patted his chest with one hand as if to say 'you're right'. But like the words that she couldn't manage with Kaleb, the above did not come either. She shrugged apologetically to Greco before Spitz toted her off to the bar, "Great show. I'll have to put you guys up on more events." Not mine, though, she thought to herself. When they reached the swamped alcohol station, Jaylene managed to ball up all of her affliction and tuck it into the depth of her soul while her outer self began its facade. She pushed the brief case onto the counter top and took a seat.

"I need two shots of Jose Cuervo and my pen and paper. Let me get some shit done with these mannequins." She nudged Spitz gratefully.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Kaleb Dean Sivaj Character Portrait: Hudson Livingston Character Portrait: Jaylene Sullivan
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If the girl had anything to say in response, Kaleb didn't get the chance to hear it. Before he even took a second hit from his square, the double doors behind him flew open. He turned expectantly, holding the cigarette between his lips. As he had assumed, a red faced Greco was headed his way. Kaleb braced himself, holding his cigarette at a distance as he tensed his muscles.

"Are you crazy?" Greco shouted, shoving Kaleb back. The lit cigarette skittered across the alley, just stopping short of the girls shoes who Kaleb was just moments ago attempting to loop in. As he took a few steps back, an amused grin took his expression as he shook his locks out, pushing his frames on top of his head.
Once again Kaleb withdrew his pack, replacing his square and lighting it casually. Ignoring the woman just feet away, Greco stared at Kaleb expectantly, waiting for an answer. As they stood in silence, a van pulled into the alley, driven by Rob. Over Greco's shoulder, Elijah had emerged from the double doors with some equipment in hand, looking at the scene with curiosity. Greco poked Kaleb's shoulder roughly, "Answer me."

Without hesitation Kaleb swatted away the hand of his band mate. The veil of apathy cracked, giving Greco a glimpse of the very same Kaleb Jaylene had recognized just moments ago. Yes he was wild eyed, the cocaine leaving him a little more agitated than usual. He had stopped using it casually, mostly just using it special occasions and shows. Kaycee didn't know anything about it, she swore to leave him if she found out about him doing it again. However there was something about being called out on it by an old friend that felt like a knife in his gut. Like she saw him as beneath her, and maybe she was right.

"You don't know shit about the situation, so quit acting like you do." Kaleb said cooly as he took another drag, blowing the smoke in Greco's face. "That bitch in there may look like Malibu Barbie but she's rotten on the inside. We knew each other back in Canada, to sum it up we left on bad terms."

Greco searched Kaleb's face, as if expecting further explanation. When it didn't come, Greco laughed. "So you blow the biggest gig we've had yet? I don't give a fuck if she burned your house down, you just fucked up what could have been a great reference. This is the biggest event we've ever been hired for and you're lucky she even still paid us! I wouldn't have. Fix your attitude Kaleb, I'm not putting up with your shit." Kaleb began to walk away as Greco spoke, putting his hand up to signify he didn't want to hear it. Greco just couldn't understand, and Kaleb wasn't going to waste his time trying to explain it.

If anyone else was around Kaleb didn't notice, instead just continuing down the alley to round the building. The line wrapped around one side of the building, people filling the sidewalk. He could hear Greco shouting his name, but Kaleb hopped into the first cab he saw and gave the taxi driver the address to Kaycee's home. There was no one else he'd rather see.


Image"Kale?" Kaycee's gentle voice spoke over the scratchy intercom.
"Please let me up Kase."

The buzz of the front doors being unlocked was all the answer he needed. Throwing his cigarette unto the pavement, Kaleb ran through the doors, just barely making it through the second door in time. It was late, his phone had died hours ago and the exact time was lost to him, but Kaycee rarely said no to him. Taking the stairs, he could hear her door unlock as he reached the landing of the second floor, her athletic silhouette slipping in between the door frame and the slightly ajar dark oak door.

Her jacket had been thrown on over a flimsy tank top, her shorts leaving little for the imagination. Over come with relief he rushed to her, his arms wrapping around her waist as he pulled her close, burying himself in her scent as he breathed hotly into her ear. "Finally, I needed to see you..." He said, much like the plea of a young boy. The tension that had been growing between his shoulders since he had first seen Jaylene finally lessened, the chip he had been carrying around disintegrating.

Soundlessly she stepped back, allowing him to close the door behind them. Obviously still half asleep, she didn't have the energy to protest Kaleb's advances. He pushed her against the wall of the hallway, reaching behind her neck, spreading his fingers into the closely cropped hair at the base of her neck, gently yanking the hairs back to tilt her chin back. Her lips parted against his, her body melting like butter beneath him, recognizing the need within him.

Gripping the back of her thighs, Kaleb hoisted her up so that her legs could wrap around his waist, pressing himself into her soft feminine shape. Leaning forward, he gently nibbled on her ear before whispering, "I love you." She moaned as his hand slipped behind the small of her back, pulling her so that her body arched against his.

"I love you, too." She managed to say between his kisses as he pulled her close, supporting her weight as he carried her into her bedroom, laying her out on her bed with care. Dim light from the street and moon light filtered through the sheer drapes, poorly illuminating their naked figures as they melded into one another, creating a cacophony of grunts and moans as Kaleb transferred all the guilt, anger and pain that had built within into that moment with Kaycee. She hadn't questioned him, or started an argument. Things with Kaycee were simple, easy. She loved him no matter what, and that was what he loved about her above everything else.

Suddenly, Jaylene didn't matter any more. It was a fateful encounter that he would put behind him now. So what she was in the Bronx? A lot of people lived out in this end of the city, New York was big and it took this long for them to run into one another, he didn't think it could happen again any time soon. So as he fell next to Kaycee in a light sheen of sweat and she nestled into his chest, Kaleb inhaled her smell of vanilla and something floral and fell into the realm of sleep to begin the day anew.