(no subject)

[notbreakable]

It's not like Kimmy isn't used to being stared at.

Back in Durnsville, the first few days after her rescue had been awful. Of course, she was thrilled to be free and to find that the whole world hadn't disappeared, but the photographers and journalists that wanted to know every single detail about her life underground had been less... thrilling.

In New York, she'd mostly blended in after her first day or two having been side-eyed. She was eccentric but for the most part anonymous. And she'd loved every bit of it. No one knew she was a "Mole Woman," that she'd spent the better part of her life in a bunker.

In Darrow, sometimes she gets second glances because her attire kind of resembles that of a third grader, at least in color, or because she's holding the city's cutest baby, but that's it. And that's why it's so surprising that during what should be a pretty normal commute to work, people won't stop looking at her. Some point, even. She checks her teeth, her hair. Nothing out of the ordinary at all.

She's confused but relieved by the time she reaches Brian's place, letting herself in with a big exhale as she moves to lean against the closed door. 

[For Truth on Your Back plot, Kimmy has the message that she COULD HAVE ESCAPED on her back. Find her anywhere around Darrow the morning of the 21st or at Brian's if you, you know, live there.]

Comments

[notbreakable]

"My shirt?" Kimmy echoes, turning around to try to catch a glimpse of the back of her shirt, which is brightly colored but definitely doesn't say anything like some of her other shirts do. One of her favorite sweaters says I LOVE CUPCAKES with a cupcake picture instead of the word, but this isn't that. "I don't... did someone put a sticker on there? I can't see it."

[minimumbullshit]

"It's not a sticker. It's..." he walked toward her, holding her steady with a hand on her shoulder. The writing was odd, like it was a part of her shirt but not. He wrinkled the fabric under his thumb, but the words were still oddly readable.

"Could have escaped. Mean anything to you?"

[notbreakable]

Kimmy can't help but pull away. Not at Brian's touch but what he's said. What he's read. What she's apparently been carrying around on her back all morning.

She feels sick, memories of the day she'd found the rat and almost ventured out but stayed. For Cyndee, who went on to kind of hate her for it. "You can't get it off?"

[minimumbullshit]

"I'd suggest stripping, but I don't think we're going to get anything out of that but a harassment lawsuit."

She looked horrified, all the color draining from her cheeks, and he managed to actually feel bad for her.

"I don't think it's coming off. You should sit," he said, pointing her toward the sofa.

[notbreakable]

"That doesn't make any sense," Kimmy says. So few things in Darrow do, but they rarely affect her in such a way that she has reason to be afraid. Not that not escaping is a crime, but it's something near and dear to her heart.

Even after all this time, she still feels so ashamed.

Sitting on the sofa, she tries to catch a glimpse of the message again. There still appears to be nothing, which is hardly fair. How many people had known about it before her? "How would they know?"

[minimumbullshit]

"I'm sure you're a much deeper well than appearances suggest, but if you haven't noticed? Not even privacy's sacred anymore. If it ever was," he said flatly, walking back toward the kitchen.

"Coffee or vodka?" He lifted a carafe in one hand, and a bottle of Grey Goose in the other.

[notbreakable]

Kimmy wants to say neither but she also doesn't want to make this more complicated than it needs to be. "Uh, coffee," she says. "With lots of sugar. If possible."

"I wanted to," she adds, suddenly, almost defensively. "Escape. The bunker."

[minimumbullshit]

When she asked for extra sugar, he snorted out a laugh. He reached into the fridge, pulling out one of Gus's juice boxes instead. Holding it up so she could see it, he arched a questioning brow.

"Sure you did," he said, dismissively placating. "Or maybe you didn't. It's none of my fucking business. If you want to pour over the whole story, I'll listen-- Well, I'll pretend to listen to some of it." He shrugged. "But I don't really care."

[notbreakable]

"Juice is good," Kimmy says, wondering for a moment whether to take Brian up on his offer to kind of listen. She knows she's needed to confide in someone for a long while, she's just not sure that her boss should be that person.

What if he judges her? More than he does, even. Though he did say he doesn't care... and that's the opposite of judging, right? "I just... had a chance, about... seven years in, and I didn't take it."