Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The forest was quiet, tree leaves blowing in the wind. In a small clearing sat Taco, deemed "The Liar" of Inanimate Insanity. The dewy blades of grass had a slight shimmer to them from the moon, casting a soft, silver glow on everything in its reach.

Taco sighed, leaning back against one of the trees.

"Why did she have to leave? She could have won with my help..."

Taco slid down the tree, her legs getting a little wet from the damp grass. She sighed, confused by Microphone's sudden leave. Well, she understood, but she never really understood. So vanilla, that girl. Taco would do anything to get the million; backstabbing, cheating, even a literal stab to the back.

Mic, however, was tied down to morals. And to mention Pickle? Ugh, Taco was upset. Less about the thrown away opportunity, not even that dig at her previous alliance, but for some reason, she felt a bit of a void. It was odd for her to miss someone, well, as much as she missed Mic.

Suddenly, within her longing, it was as if a lightbulb appeared above her head. The click of a button and some shuffling of leaves could be heard as Taco made her way to Hotel OJ. Though at the beginning of the season it was quite run down due to the crash, by now, it was nearly fixed up.

Scaffolding and vehicles were strewn about the outside of the hotel, the previously pristine, flowered shrubs were now slightly overgrown with some missing petals from the once lush azalea. Most lights were off, but a few were kept on. OJ's, of course, were on.

Taco despised that man. If not for him and Bow, she could have won the million. She certainly wouldn't have spent it on some hotel. Truly, why would he? There he is, pacing around his room, likely stressing over maybe YinYang, or perhaps the Cherries? The hotel caused him nothing but stress, really. A little giggle escaped Taco's lips. Though she was quite jealous, she certainly wasn't jealous of OJ's constant state of sleep deprivation.

Mic and Soap's lights were on, but dimmed. Soap was sleeping on her bed with Mic reading quietly in the bed beside her. She was kicking her feet as she read, turning pages as she tried to immerse herself further in the story. Mic loved to read. It was an escape from the show, from the mistakes she made on it, from everything. Though normally this escapism stopped the incoming flood of memories as Soap snored in the bed next to her, tonight it seemed Mic was still in this reality.

"Uuuuugh," Mic groaned and slammed her head in her soft, fluffy pillow. Rather than the soft kicking to focus a bit, she was now kicking harder and in quicker succession before slowing down with another groan. "What she did was wrong! What I did because of her was wrong!"

Mic flipped from her stomach to her back, and pulled the covers over her now pouting face. She couldn't understand why she missed Taco. She did awful things because of Taco! If she was really all that bad, why did Mic think of Taco so often? The season one contestants, especially Pickel, said she was a horrible person. Mic agreed for the most part, but they didn't see that smile. They didn't hear that sweet laugh in the forest when no one could hear them, though cold and calculated, Taco had a little warmness to her.

Despite this, Mic was still conflicted. On one hand, she did technically kill Test Tube, she manipulated everyone, and well... she was quite morally questionable. On the other, she could be so sweet if she wanted to be. Was this another one of Taco's tricks? Maybe, but it seemed so sincere. Mic always wondered if she was just being gullible. She felt like just another Pickle: another stepping stone to victory, but was she different? Was she more than a stone?

Something slammed against the window, stopping that train of thought right in its tracks, and startling Mic half to death. With the silky tangerine curtains closed, Mic couldn't see what had hit the window. It could've been a bird—maybe a stick or something the wind picked up—but it didn't seem that way. The noise was far too loud for that. Soap, a very heavy sleeper, drifted out of sleep for a moment because of it.

Mic quit thinking about what it could've been and decided to just look. She slowly and carefully crept out of bed, shivering a little from the transition to tons of blankets to a whirring ceiling fan. Upon opening the curtains, Mic yelped and stumbled back, gripping onto the curtains.

"Taco?!"

Taco was hanging onto the edge of Mic's window, having taken quite the leap of faith from one of the cranes by the hotel.

"Let me in, will you? I can't hang on forever!"

Despite iminent danger, Taco still had it in her to sass. Mic expected no less, though. She opened the window, and helped Taco climb in.

"Why are you here, Taco?" Mic glared down at Taco, but upon seeing upset eyes, her glare softened, if only by a little.

Taco stuttered and stumbled over her words, clearly not thinking far enough in advance. Now that she was finally face to face with the girl she had been missing so much for what felt like years, she had no clue what to say. As Mic glared at her, more and more, Taco was even more lost on what to say.

Should she apologize? Should she ask her why she left? Should she hug her? Well, she really wanted to, but was that appropriate? What was she supposed to say? With Pickle, it was so much easier. In the letters, she had complete control over her tone, over her emotions, but in person, or maybe just with Mic, she was a mess. Like a frustrated little kid, some tears started pooling in her eyes.

"I—I don't know what to say now that I'm here..." Taco trailed off.

Mic couldn't bear look at this. She looked to the side, feeling some ears pooling in her eyes as well. Really, she was conflicted. Taco had caused so much hurt, but Mic somehow still cared about her.

"Let's just go to somewhere private. I don't wanna wake anyone up."

Taco nodded, and felt a slight smile creep upon her lips. Finally, she felt no void swirling around in her stomach. It was odd for her to feel this way. She had never really had many genuine connections. She only really had fake friendships and beneficial, hollow bonds. Even her parents didn't care much about her, outside of her achievements. Maybe this was why Taco was so damn fixated on winning the show; she didn't fully know.

The two walked in silence to their old meeting spot, which was only lit by moonlight and a few candles Taco had stolen from the hotel a while ago. The smell reminded her of Mic, so she burned them when she felt that void consuming her.

"Why did you come to see me? You could have just sent letters like you send to Pickle," Mic asked, sitting down on the tree stump she once talked strategy in. She could feel some memories coming back, but she calmed herself down despite everything in her wanting to scream.

"Pickle didn't read a single one. And you...I really wanted to talk to you." Taco ran her hands through her curly blonde hair, sifting through knots as she did so. She just needed something to distract her just a little from her emotions, if only by a little. She hated seeing that disappointed look Mic's face. It was just like her parents’s.

"What is different about me, Taco?" Mic's anger bubbled to the surface, raising her voice a fair bit. Taco winced, almost like a scared puppy. "He and I are not different! We were both just—stepping stones to victory!
Would you have even accepted 500k? You probably would have taken the whole thing, right? Just like you did to OJ!"

Taco was left speechless. What do you even say to that? Taco could hardly hold in tears at this point. She wasn't sure how to convince Mic to stay. She wasn't even sure how to start. Like, ‘Hey, sorry for using you. You were so right! I totally would have stolen the entire million, at first! I grew to really care about you, which, like, totally understandable to hate me now, but please don't leave me! You're all I have!’

That really wouldn't go down well, would it? Well—maybe—honesty is supposed to be the best policy. It helps you win, but hey, Mic obviously doesn't think that. They used to be so damn close, though! They were basically partners in crime! That's certainly how Taco saw it, but that's definitely not how Mic saw it.

"What? Run out of lies?" Mic huffed, crossing her arms. "I expect nothing less from THE liar of Inanimate Insanity. You tried to make me feel like we were equals. You tried to make me feel like I had a choice in anything, but nooo, you were just stringing me along in your little plan to finally get that win! Why? Why do you need to win so bad? What did you even plan on doing with the money?"

Taco, yet again, was speechless. This time, it felt like the whole world was silent. She just couldn't hold in those tears anymore. Tears rolled down her sun-kissed cheeks, and her nose scrunched a little. She tried to wipe her tears a bit, but they just kept coming, so she gave up. She gripped at the fabric of her pants, her sharp, black nails pinching her skin a little. Mic tried to stay as stone-faced as she could. She didn't want Taco to know how much she cared; it'd be like admitting defeat. It would be giving up on independence and going back to the one who controlled her like a puppeteer.

But the one thing that stopped her was the hope that maybe, just maybe, she was different. Just maybe she was more than a stepping-stone to victory. She just couldn't let that sliver of hope go. She couldn't let the slim chance that maybe Taco felt that warm, fuzzy, light feeling. Despite her violent nature, Mic felt so free around Taco. She felt like she could be her loud, weird, authentic self around her. Well, she did find read through her diary when they first met, so she would sorta have to be herself anyways.

"I—I'm sorry Mic, you're right. I was using you. I was just gonna take the million from you. I was just going to use you, but you drew me in! You...Your smile, your laugh, how you find a way to succeed while sticking to your morals, how you care for people. You...you are just amazing. I—I'm sorry for hurting you, I really messed up."

Mic felt some warmth in her cheeks, but she shook it away, the loose curls from her bun getting in her face a bit.

"Just stop.” Mic turned away, looking at the grass below her. "I don't trust you, but that doesn't mean I don't miss you. You're really fun to be around, but you made me hurt people. How can I really know you won't do that to me again?"

Tears stopped their annoyingly persistent flow, and it was as if Taco had stars in her eyes.

"You miss me too?" Taco had a smile on her face, a bittersweet one, but nonetheless, a smile. "Well, I don't really know. I just...I miss you. I wish I knew how to gain your trust again."

"Well, you'll have to work hard to earn it."

"Deal."

Chapter Text

The island was mostly quiet this morning, aside from the rustling of the trees and the soft snoring of Suitcase leaning her head against Baseball. He was freezing without his jacket, but Suitcase needed a blanket, right? At least Suitcase was warm, because he certainly wasn't. Despite that, the two were content, sitting at the dock with their feet hanging off the edge, waiting for that slim chance that maybe, just maybe, Mephone would come back.

And of course, there in the distance was Taco, watching from afar, a bit jealous. She wish she had connections like that... but that wasn't the point of this watch. She too needed to watch for Mephone to come back. Though she had no ties to the prize, she still felt she needed to know if Mephone came back. They did leave everyone to pretty much... rot here. There wasn't much of a way for contestants to leave, so all they could do is wait, really. Even with Mic no longer being in the game, Knife still was. Knife was still in the game, and though their relationship was quite strained, she had still wanted to know his fate in the show at the very least. So, she watched, now as some sort of spectator... how amusing she became somewhat of a viewer of the show she sought to win. She felt a bit like Fan, in a way, with how closely she was watching everything.

In Hotel OJ, Mic was just waking up, still quite groggy and sleepy. Clearly, she was quite tired from the night before. Half-asleep, she groans as she smacks the snooze button on her alarm clock.

"Wake up, sleepyhead," Soap pulled curtains to the side, resulting in an angry groan from Mic. "You need to stop hitting snooze before I go insane."

Mic hadn't remembered hitting snooze all but one time, but when she looked at the clock, yeah, it was definitely time to get up now. She slowly raises from her bed, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

"Ughh," Mic groans, stretching her back a bit. She turns to her nightstand, looking at the book she was reading last night. She wishes reading was the only thing that kept her up. "Why do I have to wake up so early...?"

"You offered to help OJ with hotel duties, you know. It's good for you," Soap commented, leaned against the wall, tapping her fingers against it, waiting for Mic to finally get her ass out of bed. "It's a great distraction."

"Yeah, yeah, you're right..." Mic finally agreed and got out of bed, but that definitely didn't mean she was happy about it.

Half-hazardly, she picked a slightly tattered black pair jeans and a quite familiar top... the one she wore the first time she met Taco. There were still a few pencil smudges along the edge of the sleeves.

"Hm, how ironic..." Mic mumbled to herself, now heading to the on-suite bathroom to change and brush her teeth and stuff.

After she changed, as usual, she pulled back her hair into one bun. And of course, also as usual, she missed a few curls by her ears. How annoying...

As Mic got ready, Taco kept watch. Baseball and Suitcase, or as he called her, Suits, were still all over each other. Though jealousy fueled Taco's every thought, but she had to watch. That slim chance Mephone just MIGHT come back, that she could miss that, she just needed to keep watch, at least for most of the day...

Taco was pretty zoned out in her thoughts, making fake scenarios about Mephone coming back and getting his little screen cracked by Knife's fists, getting snapped out by some movement in the distanced. She jumped up, but no, it was no annoying, absent minded, neglective host... It was just "Suits" waking up.

"Mmmph..." Suitcase looked up, a gentle face now looking down at her.

She spewed out a few apologies, to an unmoved Baseball, laughing softly.

"Suits, you do this every shift... Don't worry, it's fine."

Baseball was right. It happened every god damn time. That girl had too many apologies in her sometimes... Taco wished she had that problem.

It seemed no matter how in the wrong she was, it was some HUGE task to just... apologize! Taco wanted so badly to just... say sorry sometimes. That prideful voice of her parents remained in her ear, though. It was always so stubborn.

Even just for Mic's sake, she wished it would go away.

Chapter Text

Things at the hotel were going... pretty smoothly. Of course, Soap was obsessing over cleaning everything... OJ was definitely not helping with all that praise. Nevertheless, Mic was helping with a few things, mostly helping with the younger contestants like YinYang and the Cherries. She was basically their babysitter, trying to entertain and keep them from causing too much trouble...

But of course, they caused trouble, causing messes for poor Soap to clean up, despite Mic offering. Trophy's poor cacao-nibs. They'll never recover, not from Fan, and certainly not from the chaos of Yang. Once a collection so large, it required a huge glass jar, now minimized to a plastic baggie. Poor Trophy.

By the end of the day, Mic was exhausted. Honestly, all she wanted was to be alone. She used to have that spot in the forest, but of course, Taco was probably there.

Well, seeing Taco wouldn't be too bad of an idea, right? Maybe Taco would break the facade and Mic could move on, but really, as much as she didn't want to admit it, she did hope Taco would actually change.

Walking down the oh-so familiar path of the "Perilous" Forest, her boots squished the mud in that familiar way. It was almost... nostalgic in a way, though it wasn't too long ago she had been meeting Taco daily here...

She looked at the bushed as she passed, the way they moved in the wind, the noises they made, it was the same as it always was. It was like the forest never changed, only she did.

As she reached the meeting spot, that clearing in the forest that shone in all the right was under the moonlight, she could hear the sounds of a pacing Taco, rambling to herself, that smart, cocky tone to her voice mostly gone. Of course, there was always that "higher-than-thou"-ness to her, that's just who she is, much to Mic's dismay...

Taco paced around her meeting spot, an utter mess. Normally she had it all together, but lately, she seemed to be coming undone. Her thoughts were more chaotic, basing her decisions on feelings rather than logic. She was... she was acting like.. a jeebweezer as that vile vial liked to describe it! She was raised to be a winner, why was she losing everything? First the show, but her Microphone too...

As she rambled on, speaking every single thought that came to mind, she abruptly stopped, noticing Mic was right in front of her, seeing all that.

All of that rambling about losing, all that rambling about her... FEELINGS.

How embarrassing.

She brushed herself off, losing that distraught look on her face, putting on a look of fake confidence.

"Hello, Mic.."

Mic stared and blinked, unsure of what to say.

Why did Taco call her "HER Mic"...

"Um, hello, Taco..." Finally, Mic mustered up some sort of words to say, no longer leaving Taco in complete embarrassing silence.

"So, um, how are you today, Mic?"

Well, it seemed to Mic she was going to ignore what she just saw, so she may as well do the same.

"Uhh," Mic rubbed the back of her neck, still a bit.. well... shaken from what she just saw. She wasn't really sure what to feel about it yet. "I helped OJ with the hotel, it was a lot of work, but I'm fine..."

Mic decided not to ask Taco. Considering the rant about losing everything and being a "jeebweezer", she assumed it wasn't the best.

Mic watched as Taco sat one of the logs of wood by the fire, surprisingly not sitting too properly for once. Her legs were pretty spread open, as well as being leaned over, opposed to her perfect, prissy posture she always seemed to maintain.

Taco pat to her side, gesturing Mic to sit next to her, before pouring some green tea into two tea cups. This was just like when they were "partners in crime."

Microphone sat down, taking the cup of tea offered to her. The way Taco's soft lips grazed the tea cup as she sipped the warm tea made Mic's heart flutter a little for whatever reason. How weird. Normally that only happened when she had feelings for someone, but she definitely didn't have feelings for Taco, right?

(DENIAL IS A RIVER IN EGYPT, MICROPHONE, YOU ARE GAY!!)

(sorry guys, i just had to-)

Taco gently placed her cup on the saucer, and gently spoke up, fixing her posture a little, "Sorry you had to witness... that... Microphone."

Microphone coughed up a little tea, most of it getting all over her shirt.

"Shit.." Mic muttered to herself, wiping it off with her sleeve.

Taco had some blush staining her cheeks. How embarrassing... she probably shouldn't have brought it up.

After wiping off the tea and composing herself, she finally replied, "No, Taco, its, fine. I guess it kinda shows you regret what you did in a way..."

Taco shrugged.

"I was raised a certain way. I was raised to never fail... Losing not just Inanimate Insanity, but you, is new to me.."

Mic hummed in acknowledgement, and the two sipped their tea in slightly uncomfortable silence, the only noise being the brushing of leaves and the howling of the wind. Good thing Mic wore something long-sleeved, or she'd be freezing from the wind.

And as the two finished their tea, the sun began to set. Oranges, pinks, and yellows melted together as the fading light of the sun shone on the dewy grass before them and in-between the tree's leaves.

Taco placed her now empty cup in the saucer again, then placing it on the ground below her.

"Thank you for giving me another chance, Microphone."

Mic turned to look at Taco, the light shining on her soft, brown eyes making Taco's knees weak, despite sitting...

Mic gave a gentle smile, turning back to the sunset.

"You're welcome. Take it as a 'favor.'"

Taco snickered, Mic soon following after.

"Knife does seem to be rubbing off on you, huh?"

"I guess so."

The two continued looking at the sunset, the silence a bit more comfortable now.

~

hi! author's note here! speaking of knife, should i make a separate side-story about the final four? last chapter i added a little bit of suits and baseball because suitcase is my baby... but yeah. i was planning on opening the next chapter with a changing dock watching shift btwn lightbulb and knife! is that something you guys would be interested in or do i make a separate side story? please let me know, thanks! back to the story. sorry to interrupt gang 😭🙏

~

As the sunset faded to dusk, and dusk started fading to twilight, Soap started to blow up Mic with "WHERE ARE YOU???"'s and "COME BACK >:("'s, Mic probably should go back now...

She got up, placing her tea cup and saucer down next to Taco's.

"I should probably go back to the hotel now. Soap keeps... uh... blowing up my phone asking where I am."

Taco so badly just wanted to make her stay... She so badly wanted to continue this peaceful moment, but she couldn't. If she tried to get her to stay, that'd just be proving that she was the same as always: manipulative, evil, ect... So she didn't.

"Alright, bye..."

Taco's hands hesitated, wanting so badly to hug her. She had never been fond of physical touch, her parents ruined that for her, but with Mic, it was different.

Mic huffed, and rolled her eyes, although it was a bit playfully.

"You can hug me if you want to."

Like a child, Taco jumped at the opportunity, hugging the much taller girl by the waist, considering it was a bit of work trying to hug her over her shoulders...

Mic gently hugged back, slightly stroking Taco's shiny, soft, blonde curls.

Mic hated how much she enjoyed that hug...

Chapter Text

The second Microphone twisted the knob on that noisy ass door, Soap came rushing to the door, along with the gossip queens, Pepper and Salt.

"Mic! Where were you at?" Soap was basically shaking Mic to death at this point. "You never go out this late!"

"Yeah, you don't like go out or anything." Salt commented, followed by aggressive nods by Pepper.

Of course, Salt was acting like a typical teenage popular girl, with her adoring girlfriend being such a yes-man. It made Mic a bit jealous... Who would be that for her anyways?

Soap shot a glare at the pair, and raised an eyebrow at Mic, still waiting on that answer.

"I just... went on a walk. Yeah! I went on a walk!"

Mic was a terrible liar and she knew it. Clearly, the others knew it. Even OJ gave a look. Well, Paper did too, but it was a bit more of a kind one.

"Yeah, sure. I hardly know you and I can see that you're lying." Pepper looked up at Mic, an annoying, smug look on her face.

Salt nodded.

"Yeah, just spill, girl! We'll figure it out soon enough."

Salt dragged Pepper along, of course, in the direction of the spa...

"OJ, could you be a sweetie and get us started with some hot towels? Thanks~!"

OJ groaned.

"I can't have SHIT in this hotel."

He picked Paper up out of his lap, placing him to the side on the couch they were previously cuddling on, and gently put a blanket over him. Again, Mic was jealous.

Hardly noticing it before she could stop Soap, Mic too was being dragged somewhere. Before she knew it she was in the elevator...

"So are WE gonna talk about why you randomly disappeared for two hours?" Soap basically interrogated Mic, almost looking like an angry mom.

Had it really been TWO hours? It certainly didn't feel that long.

Upon checking the time, yeah, it was two hours.

"Sorry, I didn't think it was that long..."

"Ugh, it's fine, you don't need to tell me if you don't want to," Soap lost that scolding tone, a more gentle, but worried one on her face. "I just hope you didn't run into Taco or something. And I know she's a sensitive subject, I probably shouldn't have brought her up but... I'm worried about you, you know?"

Soap turned to face a very nervous Mic. Yeah, Mic totally didn't do any more than just run into her...

"I see what she did to Pickle. He's a lot better now, but when I first got here, he was still kinda messed up from it. I don't know exactly what she did to you, since you didn't tell me the full extent, but I can see you're upset."

Mic didn't really know what to say now. Soap was right, she did mess up Pickle. She did mess up.. well... Mic. And she did kill Test Tube, and injure Fan, and probably would have killed those egg looking things...

Taco wasn't a good person, and Mic knew that. Would changing herself be enough? Could she really make up for that?

The elevator dinged, signaling she was on the floor she needed to be. She followed Soap to their room, just collapsing onto her bed the second she could.

"Whatever that was really did tire you huh?"

Soap went back to sassing. Great.

"I was tired before..."

"Don't worry, I was just teasing, silly. I'll get something for you to sleep in from your dresser."

That was a relief. Mic didn't wanna get out of bed, and she certainly didn't want to sleep in jeans...

Unlike Microphone, all warm in her hotel room, Taco was freezing, but nevertheless, she was persistent. She had her break, now it was time to go back to waiting for Mephone.

It was the end of Lightbulb's shift, and much to Taco's dismay, it was now Knife's turn.

"Ugh, not Knife..." Taco muttered to herself, now resting her head on her palm.

Knife, unfortunately, wasn't just a simple bully, he had SOME logic to him. That annoyance of a man caught her and her Microphone.

Lost in thought, she inched closer and closer through the bushes, but with her horrible luck lately, her foot got caught on a branch, reeling her forward.

"Huh?" Knife's head snapped to the noise he heard. "Who's there?"

Shit. Taco was about to be caught. The stupid buckle on her shoes was caught in the branches!

Taco's thoughts became more and more frenzied as Knife inched closer, making her chances of actually getting unstuck lower and lower.

The final nail in the coffin was getting stabbed by a sharp end of one of the branches she was all ensnared in.

She yelped, and of course, Knife heard.

Knife wasn't pleased to hear Taco.

"What are YOU doing here, Taco?"

Taco fiddled with the branch stuck in her shoe some more, getting more frustrated every second.

"That doesn't concern you. Aren't you supposed to be keeping watch?"

Knife groaned, and reluctantly started helping Taco get unstuck.

"THAT doesn't concern YOU," Finally, Taco was unstuck, but she wished she did it herself... "And you're welcome."

Taco got up and brushed herself off.

"I didn't say thank you."

"Yeah, Yeah, whatever... Let me fix you up. You're lucky OJ gave us first aid kits since Mephone isn't here..."

The mention of that man left a sour taste in Taco's mouth, but what else was she to do? She had a cut just above her foot, and she didn't want her white socks stained red...

~

authors note! my time is EST, so it might not be the same as yours, but i was thinking about posting a new chapter on every monday, wednesday, and friday at 10 pm (or earlier), but i'll sprinkle in a few extras if i get the motivation to :) if you have any schedule suggestions, let me know!! :D back to the story!

~

Taco was patched up, sitting on the dock next to Knife, dangling her feet.

All of the sudden, Knife turned to face her.

"Why are you still here? You could have just left, instead of rotting here with us. You lost your connection to the prize, you know..." Knife continued to stare at a conflicted Taco. In all truth, she stayed here for an ending. Partially an ending for Knife, but she mostly stayed on the island for Microphone. But was she going to say any of that? Hell no.

"I.. I still have tricks up my sleeve! I still have connections!"

Yeah, Knife definitely wasn't convinced.

"Lying again, I see. You're staying for Microphone, aren't you? Are you sending HER any of those shitty apology notes like you send Pickle every week?"

No, no she couldn't. A note wasn't enough. Pickle mattered nothing to her, though she did feel a little bad leading him on like that. Microphone deserved... more.

She shook her head.

"Always so observant, hm?"

"I guess so. I just see the way you look at her.. As much as I hate you, and as much of a bad person you are, you have that... shine in your eyes when you look at her," He groaned, leaning over into himself. "And she looked at you that same way. You did really fumble the bag with her..."

Taco gagged.

"'Fumble the bag?' Gosh, you sound like such a high school boy," Taco leaned back. "But I guess you're right.. I did mess things up. I talked to her and... she wants me to earn her trust back, and I guess that makes sense, but I don't even know how to begin.."

Mid rambling, Taco looks back up at an unimpressed Knife.

"You don't really care, do you?"

"No, not really. I still hate you."

"That's mutual, of course."

Chapter Text

TW for internalized homophobia and homophobic family members! there's no slurs or anything dw :)

~

Microphone, again, was struggling to sleep. You'd think that being this tired would allow her to sleep, but no, her mind was still filled with images of the sunset with Taco. But why? There was no reason to be THIS fixated on a friend. Well, should she call her a friend? She still needs to prove herself... Anyways, why? Why so fixated on a... platonic relationship? She didn't think about Soap this way...

And, as Mic was, Taco was also tossing and turning with thoughts of the sunset she had shared with Mic. Just like the other girl, she wondered why she was so fixated on a friend. Why so... stuck on her? She was a good friend of course, giving second chances and always giving those sweet gentle smiles...

Snap out of it, Taco! Why does she make you lose your composure?

Really, this feeling she had for Mic was exactly like that crush Taco would "one day" have on some boy. That husband Taco's parents o-so needed her to obtain, but really she never wanted one. Boys were rude and improper. Taco could think of many examples from the show alone... Knife, Trophy, Tissues, etc...

Wait. What?

This was how the feeling of love was described. That was like.. being a lesbian or something?

God dammit!

Taco paced around the forest. She was freezing outside of her tent and sleeping bag, but she just needed to... move.

She couldn't be in love with Mic, right? She had nothing against queer people, I mean, she knew Microphone was trans, she knew OJ and Paper became a thing after the first season but... when it came to her? No, that was forbidden. Her parents would never allow that. She heard the way her parents talked about the... LGBT? That was the right acronym, right?

Anyways, she knew she couldn't be, she just COULDN'T!

But she was.

No wonder Knife phrased it as "fumbling the bag"...

Losing the season one, basically losing THIS season, this... new feeling for Microphone... Her parents aren't going to be happy. This once perfect daughter was much further from
perfect now.

For the first time in a while, she didn't hold back tears anymore. They just rolled down her cheeks. Maybe this constant flow was from years of holding back, maybe it was because of just how important this was, but that didn't matter. It felt... good to cry for the first time. It was no sign of weakness, it was just... letting it out.

Chapter Text

"Ughh..." The beaming light of the sun peeked through the leaves of the trees, just the normal, and quite rude awakening Taco had every day. "Dammit, what time is it...?"

Groggily, with tears staining her cheeks from the night before, she pulled her phone by the corner across the grass and to her face.

It was pretty old by now, a Mephone 8, and it was DEFINITELY old as shit, but it did its job. It told the time, it was a catalyst for her parents' nagging calls and texts, and the occasional song or two if needed. It was rare to need some background noise though, Taco much preferred live music.

Damn, she had really slept in until ten?

That was one hell of a cry then, she supposed. She always got up to see the sun rise a little, but lately, she'd been missing it by normally just a smidge.

But today? She woke up pretty damn late. Last night's revelations were... a bit heavy. Makes sense, she knows it makes sense, but she's still as hard on herself as ever. Well, probably more-so, being even more of a failure to her parents and all. God dammit, why couldn't she be normal like her parents wanted her to be?

Maybe... maybe someone would understand. Maybe Taco could get help. Knife never seemed thrilled talking to his parents in the first season when he talked to them on the phone.

Normally, Taco could never ask for help. It was always something she was taught not to do. Why bother someone else when you can just figure it out? But... she couldn't figure this out.

She still had Knife's contact saved after all these years. The cast all exchanged numbers before the finale, per S & P's request.

She was supposed to be invited to a group chat. Makes perfect sense why she was never added.

After dwelling on a text for a good ten minutes, Taco finally hit send.

~
November 1st, 2012

Knife: this is taco right???

Taco: speinklS :o)

Today

Taco: Greetings. It's Taco. If I remember right, you were never particularly pleased to chat with your parents over the phone, correct? Would you mind talking with me about your experiences? Of course, no pressure. Have a good day. Farewell. 😁
~

With a heavy sigh, Taco raised from her makeshift bed in the forest and smacked her phone back down in the grass.

Time to start the ever fleeting day.

Unlike Taco just rolling out of bed with messy curls ALL OVER, and I mean ALL OVER her face, Microphone was up and productive, helping Paper out with HOJP, well, Paper caaaalllllssss it HOP, but well... it's technically HOJP.

This party wasn't just any regular old party Salt decided to throw just to "spice it up", this was... important. Clearly, with season 3 and now a whole NEW season Mephone decided to run, he wasn't gonna come back for at LEAST a year or two, so... why wait in his shitty cabins he made when you could live with all your friends?

So, the OBVIOUS next course of action was to throw a party. Just to let them feel welcome, totally not because Salt and Pepper wanted an excuse to get white girl wasted on OJ's fancy wine...

Along with Soap, PB, and the occasional S & P when they actually feel like doing anything but giggling about how fun the party was gonna be, Microphone was helping make the big ol' sign to welcome in the final four. Her hands had so much paint on them...

Despite her colorful, sticky hands and PB's constant worrying about it looking JUUUST right, Mic was honestly having a great time just... painting with her friends. Sure, there were other things on her mind, but honestly, things were looking up. Things were finally light and fun again. Sure, she was still overthinking about Taco when she couldn't sleep, but hey, who doesn't have the stupidest thoughts ever at 3am? She liked girls, sure, but Taco wasn't one she liked. Nope. Not at all. It's TOTALLY platonic to think about your sort of ex friend late at night, thinking about the warmth of her skin—

Nope.

Shut up, shut up, shut up, Mic. You can't be doing this. Just paint.

Soap, of course, being the amazing friend she is gives A LOOK. Of course she knows by just a single look Mic's dwelling on everything and how it went down.

But you know what's worse? Mic and Taco are speaking again, and she can't even tell Soap. Soap would probably be pissed if she figured it out, right?

Yeah, yeah, no, she would be. Mic COULDN'T tell her.

And of course, the great friend she is Soap pulled her to the side. Dammit, why could she read Mic like a book?

She asked questions about how Mic was doing, if she was okay, but honestly, Mic wasn't really paying much attention to Soap. There was one thing on Mic's mind: how would Taco be reintroduced to the hotel?

Balloon would probably be a safe person, right? Yeah, yeah he would be...

And before she knew it, Mic was at Balloon's door.

Mic knocked gently, but after what felt like 5 minutes (more like 5 seconds... Mic's impatient as shit), he clearly hadn't heard her, so she knocked a bit harder.

"Sorry- Sorry, just a moment!" Balloon's high voice made Mic's ears ring a little. Time to turn down the gain a bit, hm?

After standing outside of Balloon's door just... awkwardly swaying back and forth for a bit, he opened the door. He looked a bit surprised to see Mic at the door, though. Not like a "Wow, Mic? Why is SHE here?", but like a "Oh, it's Mic. I wonder why." type of surprised.

"Oh! Oh, hey Mic, um..."

Yeah, he looked pretty damn awkward. They never really talked, so it makes sense.

Mic felt a knot in her throat.

"I, um, I know we never talked much on the show but- but I have something to ask you..."

Balloon just moved out of the way of the door. God dammit, how could this be productive at all when the both of them were so awkward?

Well, someone else was there too... it was Suitcase.

She was just sitting on her own bed, listening to music or something while reading. Maybe she was reading along to an audiobook or something, who knows?

Balloon sat down on his own bed, patting it to signal Mic to sit down.

And she was on the VERY EDGE, of course.

"What- What did you need to talk about?" Balloon broke the silence. Good, good... Mic didn't wanna have to do that. Much less awkward that way, probably.

"Well, I- I was um, wondering like... how you came back to the hotel and like... talked to everyone again. I mean- everyone hated you, right?" Mic slammed her mouth shut. "Oh shit, I'm sorry I- That sounded so blunt, I'm sorry. I mea-"

"No, no Mic, that's okay. And well, yeah, they did. It took a while, but it was mostly because I was eliminated. People started warming up more to me eventually..."

Balloon takes a deep breath, but then he just has an almost... confused look on his face.

"Why'd you want to ask me this anyways?"

"I- Um, well..." No point in lying now. With a heavy sigh, she FINALLY admits this to someone in the hotel. "You, um, remember Taco right?"

Balloon gives a confused look.

"Yeah? We were on season one together."

Good, good, this was going okay so far. She just had to rip off the band-aid.

"I... I worked with her during season two- and I- we fell out, but she's really learned now I think? Maybe? But she's making it up to me, and I think she should maybe make it up to Pickle too...."

Chapter Text

"Wait... WHAT?"

Mic felt the already swirling pit in her stomach twist and turn more, almost making her nauseous.

This probably wasn't a good idea, was it?

Balloon may have been a jerk but... he didn't TOTALLY fake his identity. And he didn't steal. Aaand he didn't shoot someone... Yeah, she probably seems pretty irredeemable to most.

Suitcase, even as stupidly nice as she is, shot Mic a look of shock too before going back to whatever she was reading.

(authors note, suits is definitely reading loveless by chalice ottoman... iykyk. probably a suggestion from loon.)

"Microphone I- I don't know if that's a good idea to like- bring her to Pickle. He REALLY hates her, like REALLY does. I mean he hardly leaves his room anymore. He's been pretty... depressed about it all."

He takes a deep breath.

"But... I could see why you wanted to. I mean, I got a second chance, you know? I think she deserves one."

Oh, thank god. Thank GOD he didn't just go off to tell OJ, or Pickle, or even... Soap.

Soap would probably be the worst out of all three of them. With Knife still on the contestant grounds and not visiting like Baseball and Suitcase do, she'd probably be losing her only friend here.

After everything Mic told Soap about Taco, Soap would just HAVE to be mad, right? It'd be like... like justifying all the shit she did, right? Yeah. Yeah it would be. Soap couldn't know.

Suddenly, Mic's thoughts were snapped away with a gentle, and honestly really soft hand on her shoulder.

"This honestly seems pretty dang important to you, and I know we haven't talked much, but... yeah. I mean- the whole uh, HOP thing is happening soon. Maybe we could put in a good word to Paper and maybe- just maybe- she could come too? You know, it's a party and everyone's gonna be happy and drunk. Well- I mean- I don't drink, but you know, everyone else does, sooo..."

Mic was relieved. She finally.... told someone here. Someone she's not even close to, nonetheless. She could really do this. And Taco could too, right?

★

Mic was pretty startled with a loud bang at her and Soap's door. Clearly, it was a knock, but it was a pretty forceful one.

"Mic?"

Who knew Balloon was such a loud knocker. Who knew he even had that amount of strength in him?

Soap was pretty quick to open the door, despite Mic being called for.

"Paper and OJ wanted me to bring Mic along," Balloon appeared pretty nervous, messing with a shitty mood ring that looked too big on him. "We wanted to ask them something."

Soap shrugs, and moves to the side, allowing Mic to walk out with Balloon.

Chapter Text

Mic's heart was pounding out of her chest, and by the looks of it, Balloon's was too. Not unlike hers, his hands were shaky as hell and looked sweaty too. Gross.. sweat... but she can't blame him. Plus, she'd just be a hypocrite at that point.

It seemed like the two of them were waiting for the other to knock on Paper's and OJ's office door, so to spare the both of them time, Mic just ended up taking the initiative to knock on the door.

Despite taking that initiative, she still didn't have the courage to ACTUALLY knock, just a light tap-tap at the door.

"Huh," Paper seemed to roll his chair.

"What?" OJ sounded like he rolled his chair too.

"It sounded like someone knocked at the door."

"I didn't hear anything."

"Are... Are you sure?"

"Yes, are you sure you heard a knock?"

"Yeah.."

"Maybe I just didn't hear it I dunno... Maybe go check the door to see if someone did?"

"I don't wanna open it and look stupid when there's nobody there!"

"I- Paper- who would be the one witnessing it if nobody's there?" OJ sighed. "I'll get the door, silly."
(they're so dumb gheheggeee)

OJ gently opened the door, putting on a gentle smile when he saw the two at the door.

"Ah, Microphone and Balloon!" OJ patted Balloon on the shoulder. "What brings you two here?"

Balloon and Mic just stared at each-other for a moment.

"Umm, we had a question about the um, HOP party stuff... Like, who's invited and stuff." Balloon bit his nail a little after speaking.

"Oh, come on in then!"

OJ motioned the two to sit at the couch by his desk.

The two sat down, both of them nervously hovering at the edge of the couch.

Mic noticed she and Balloon had more in common than she had previously thought. She mostly thought Taco and Balloon would be the most similar, both having been jerks before and now redeeming themselves, but it seems like Mic was a little wrong on that assumption.

"So, who did you want to invite? I mean, I'm assuming you both want to invite a plus one from off the show, I'm sure I can make some arrangements-"

"Actually, she's been on the show before," Mic interrupts. "And it's a lot to ask, but.. um, I think.. I think she has made some genuine progress, you know.. um..."

Of course, Mic trailed off at the end. So much for being confident... She surely lost her chance, right? God, she felt so stupid, and of course her hands just had to start shaking more. She really was fed up with herself at this point.

"Oh, god, Taco, yeah, yeah..." OJ put a hand up to his temple. "Balloon... Was.. was this your question too..?"

Balloon nodded.

"Yeah- Yeah, I mean, I think everyone deserves a second chance, you know? I mean, I got one, so doesn't she also deserve one? I don't know, I just wanted to help Microphone out by-"

OJ cut Balloon off.

"Yeah, yeah, second chance for her too... Against my better judgement, I'll allow it, as long as Paper does."

Paper looked over, a hesitant look on my face at first, but he nodded eventually.

"Yeah, I suppose it's only fair..."

"Really?" Mic's posture relaxed a bit. " Thank you so much!"

"You're welcome," OJ said, a gentle, but tired smile on his face. "But you guys should get out of here now. We're pretty crunched on time."

"Oh- sorry OJ, I'll get out of your hair-" Balloon shot up, speed-walking to the door

"Yeah, yeah, um, me too." Mic followed, gently shutting the door behind her.

The two could hear a light chuckle from behind the door.

Chapter Text

After hours of checking her phone every few minutes, hardly able to focus on watering the potatoes, washing her clothes in the creek, seeing if Knife texted back... UGH, still nothing!
Of course. She should have never counted on another person like that, right? After everything she'd done, after all the trust broken because of some strategy that didn't even work—she put all her hope in some GUY.
And she got a text back. Of course, she was being dramatic. Wonderful.

~

Today, 10:17 AM

Taco: Greetings. It's Taco. If I remember right, you were never particularly pleased to chat with your parents over the phone, correct? Would you mind talking with me about your experiences? Of course, no pressure. Have a good day. Farewell. 😁

- Unread -

Knife: i'll meet u in the forest i guess.

~

Well, of course he provided absolutely no time, so instead of getting the rest of her work done, she had to wait at the border for the rest of the day due to his irresponsibility. Wonderful.

In the back of her mind, it was genuinely wonderful she could sit around doing nothing for a few hours. She definitely deserved a break after stressing herself out for days—well—not just days, years, really. It was exhausting trying to live up to the crushing expectations of her parents.

As a way to pass time, she did what she normally did when she was free—write letters to Pickle. She knew he'd never read them, of course, she'd watched him through the hotel windows and seen him burn them, but at this point, the letters became some sort of diary for her. She knew he'd burn them, but that was the point. She could tell someone how she was feeling, but not reap the consequences and scrutiny. Expressing her feelings at home was something quite frowned upon, so writing to Pickle was a nice outlet. If he actually read her letters he'd judge the hell out of her, but they go straight into the fire, so what's the harm in it, right? She might as well indulge in this little hobby of hers.

"Deeaarr Pickle," Taco muttered to herself while writing. "It has come to my attention recently that I may like women as a tad more than friends. If we were still..."

She was stumped for a moment.

She was going to write close, but that was only true to one side—hers.

She saw him as her closest friend, despite the lack of trust and the unfortunate... unraveling at the finale.

Well, it's not like he could read this and dispute it anyhow.

"If we were still close, I'd come to you, as you're one of those... what do you call them.. bisexuals? Regardless, I cannot go back to the way we are, so I've resorted to speaking with your... pal, Knife. While of course, I do still despise him, I've heard his quarreling with his parents on the phone about 'pronouns' and also being the thing you are. I called for his aide as I as well do not have such... supportive parents, my, they're far from it.. I remember being a young girl, befriending this rather flamboyant boy, and being told off. They were the ones saying I needed to make friends. He was the only one smart enough to challenge my intellect."

She sighed, reliving the frustration she felt back then. Why did it matter if he batted for the same team? All they were doing together was playing chess, it's not like he was converting her into some super-gay who disobeyed her parents. Hell, losing season one was the first time she'd done anything to disappoint them.

She took a deep breath, tucking that frustration away again.

"Despite their hatred, I never really hated the gays or the trans ones. I just didn't want to be one myself. I never wanted to let my parents down. But hey, I already let them down with my loss of the first season, may as well kick them when they're down, hm?"

And her pencil snapped. Great. Now what to do?

After a small moment of thinking, she had to think no longer. The incompetent ruffian was here.

"Yo. I'm here to talk about my um... unpleasantness with my parents. You realize that it wasn't about being cut off from the trust fund or whatever it was because I'm-"

Taco stood up from the log she was sitting on, putting a finger to Knife's mouth.

"Shh, yes, I know. How rich do you think I am? I have a college fund not a trust fund.."

"And what's the difference with that, hmm?"

While Taco wanted to explain the difference, she just decided to shut her mouth. There really was no point in trying to teach basic concepts to someone who would clearly not understand them.

"Yes, yes, enough with that silver-tongue of yours, I'll jump straight to the point—I've become infatuated with Microphone, and my parents aren't so fond of the... same gender lovers. How have you... dealt with that?"

Instead of responding with any empathy, hell, the man can even relate to her dilemma, he just starts... SNORTING?

How embarrassing! How... INFURIATING!!

Taco's face was more red than the red ribbon in her hair.

"Sorry, sorry... was that not obvious to you?"

"Hey- I- I didn't know! Silence, heathen!"

"God, sorry, I'll stop laughing. It's just so..." And he's cracked himself up a little again. "It was so obvious. But I don't think your parents are the thing you need to worry about right now..."

"What? What else do I need to worry about?"

He just smirked, and looked at her, up and down.

"You used to be so put together, you know? You're a little... rusty."

Taco was seething. She nearly opened her mouth to tell him off, but he was right. Her once put together formal wear was now torn with patches galore, mud stains at the knee, and they smelled like the forest. Hell, SHE smelled like the damn forest. She had used up the last bit of her perfume ages ago. What was she thinking trying to pursue Microphone like this?

And of course, the only person to help her was Knife.

She had to swallow her pride and accept help from him.

"Just.. help me."

~

Knife had dragged her along to the contestant grounds, and into his cabin he once shared with Baseball, and the rest of the Grand Slams,before the two of them moved into the hotel.

"You're in luck. They seem to be having some party, and a lot of the idiots on the team left their old clothes here. I think all the girls' clothes would fit you, though Soap and Microphone's would be a little tight."

Taco took in the sight of the cabin, much cozier than her little area in the forest, and better than Team Epic's cabin from season one, but even the original cabins were still not as bad as sleeping out in the forest. She could have just been sleeping in one of these cabins in the months after the show's abrupt end... what a waste of time.

As she reminisced on the past and missed opportunities, Knife snapped her out of her trance, throwing a few dresses at her for her to try.

The others were truly nothing to write home about, but one stood out to her. It was a simple, shorter red dress. It was velvety and had roses embroidered all over.

"A party, you say?"

Taco grabbed the dress, shoving the others to the side, and headed into the bathrooms, Knife instead rummaging around in his closet now since clearly she had found something she liked.

"Yeah, uhh.. HOJP, or HOP, or something. It's some big party OJ and Paper are hosting. I think it has something to do with the third season newbies moving in... I dunno."

Taco was finishing unbuttoning her shirt and paused.

"Third season?"

"I'll explain when you're done changing. I'd rather not explain it through the door, you know...?"

Taco shrugged.

"Fair enough."

Pulling her arms out of her sleeves, she looked in the mirror for a moment, having not seen herself outside of the reflection of the lake for a while now.

She really was disgruntled, wasn't she?

She'd lost a decent amount of weight since she had first joined the show. Her mother would certainly be happy about that, but she certainly wouldn't be happy with her hair...

Her roots were showing, and they were showing BAD, not to mention her curls were more frizz than curl.

Despite how peeved she was just existing around Knife, she was grateful for the help he could provide. Asking Microphone out like this would be utterly foolish.

She finished taking off her pants, slipping on the new dress.

Despite her hair a mess, cuts along her legs from thorns, and her legs being unshaven, she looked pretty good, all things considered.

"Knife?" She called out, pressed against the door.

"What?"

"Can I take a shower here?"

"Please do. You smell like dirt."

"...Rude."