[ The skyline of Panorama punches through the mist like something out of a fever dream. Massive towers glow red at the top, pulsing like veins, lighting the overcast sky in flickers of industrial heat. Rain mists down in warm sheets, slicking the road and painting everything in shades of rust and neon. Jesse leans forward in the driver’s seat of the van, knuckles tight on the wheel, teeth clenched just enough to make his jaw throb. He's been mostly quiet, just the sound of the wipers, the engine’s uneven hum, and the occasional crackle of a busted speaker that strains to crank out the music playing over the radio. ]
Big-ass city. Okay, let’s see if you’re as weird as the rest of this trip.
[ The Pavilion’s parking lot is chaos. Carts zigzag through puddles. A few kids in oversized jackets hang around the entrance like they’re plotting something. Every other vehicle looks like it was welded together from different species of junk. Jesse slides into a spot near the back, careful to kill the engine with the van angled for a quick exit, just in case. Inside, the store is loud, bright, and packed. It smells like fake citrus, sweat, and fried cabbage. Jesse makes it five feet before someone tries to cut in front of another customer who's already in line at the sample table - some tall asshole with a shaved head and an aggressive stance. He's familiar with the type and doesn't think twice before intervening. ]
Yo! [ He steps between them, voice loud enough to draw attention. ] This ain’t the Purge, man. They were here first.
[ The bald guy sneers, sizes Jesse up, and either decides it’s not worth it, or senses the low-simmering don’t test me energy radiating off him. He mutters something and walks off. Jesse's shoulders relax as he turns to the person he just helped, a lighter tone in his voice now. ]
Dude had ‘roid rage over free cheese. Go 'head, you're good.
[ He moves along the sample tables. Grabs a dumpling. Rubber and cabbage-flavored regret. Synthetic cherry juice. Fine, whatever. But then he tries one of the chocolate-covered alien eggs and freezes. Crunchy. Weirdly tangy. He chews twice more, squinting with suspicion, then glances at the person next to him. ]
Ay. [ He speaks, motioning at the alien egg cup. ] I thought they were gonna taste like...I dunno, space mold or whatever. But they kinda slap, right? It's like, um...like Pop Rocks had a kid with a Snickers.
[ Jesse’s not above sampling twice. Or five times. He palms a protein bar while pretending to read the label, slips a bottle of electrolyte-something into his hoodie pocket, and knocks a display just slightly off-kilter to create a ripple effect. People start arguing over who touched what. He casually tosses a pack of mystery-meat jerky under his arm and walks away like nothing happened. A few feet away, someone watches him. He meets their eyes, flicks his gaze down to their hands, and back up to their face. Then he lifts a finger to his lips, a grin flickering at the edges. Shhh. ]
[ Did Jesse call out the guy who tried to cut in front of you? Were you the one he talked to about the alien eggs? Or maybe you saw him steal, and now he knows you know. Maybe you used the distraction he created to swipe something for yourself. ]
The Pavilion: Free Samples
Big-ass city. Okay, let’s see if you’re as weird as the rest of this trip.
[ The Pavilion’s parking lot is chaos. Carts zigzag through puddles. A few kids in oversized jackets hang around the entrance like they’re plotting something. Every other vehicle looks like it was welded together from different species of junk. Jesse slides into a spot near the back, careful to kill the engine with the van angled for a quick exit, just in case. Inside, the store is loud, bright, and packed. It smells like fake citrus, sweat, and fried cabbage. Jesse makes it five feet before someone tries to cut in front of another customer who's already in line at the sample table - some tall asshole with a shaved head and an aggressive stance. He's familiar with the type and doesn't think twice before intervening. ]
Yo! [ He steps between them, voice loud enough to draw attention. ] This ain’t the Purge, man. They were here first.
[ The bald guy sneers, sizes Jesse up, and either decides it’s not worth it, or senses the low-simmering don’t test me energy radiating off him. He mutters something and walks off. Jesse's shoulders relax as he turns to the person he just helped, a lighter tone in his voice now. ]
Dude had ‘roid rage over free cheese. Go 'head, you're good.
[ He moves along the sample tables. Grabs a dumpling. Rubber and cabbage-flavored regret. Synthetic cherry juice. Fine, whatever. But then he tries one of the chocolate-covered alien eggs and freezes. Crunchy. Weirdly tangy. He chews twice more, squinting with suspicion, then glances at the person next to him. ]
Ay. [ He speaks, motioning at the alien egg cup. ] I thought they were gonna taste like...I dunno, space mold or whatever. But they kinda slap, right? It's like, um...like Pop Rocks had a kid with a Snickers.
[ Jesse’s not above sampling twice. Or five times. He palms a protein bar while pretending to read the label, slips a bottle of electrolyte-something into his hoodie pocket, and knocks a display just slightly off-kilter to create a ripple effect. People start arguing over who touched what. He casually tosses a pack of mystery-meat jerky under his arm and walks away like nothing happened. A few feet away, someone watches him. He meets their eyes, flicks his gaze down to their hands, and back up to their face. Then he lifts a finger to his lips, a grin flickering at the edges. Shhh. ]
[ Did Jesse call out the guy who tried to cut in front of you? Were you the one he talked to about the alien eggs? Or maybe you saw him steal, and now he knows you know. Maybe you used the distraction he created to swipe something for yourself. ]