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Zachary III: A messed up development



Ashton came in to check on Isabella, and to give her a ride home, right as Zach was cooking up something. Isabella really didn't want to let the effort (and food) go to waste - and neither did we.


I cooked up a feast!

Music: BGM Ashton Theme

I don't know about you two, but I think you guys should really stay! I've already made enough food for all of us and it'd be a waste! Why, I cooked up that special honey-glazed ham you two keep on yapping about! Got some scalloped potatoes with onions and cheddar to go with it, too!

The oven timer dings. I shoot the two of them an apologetic look before sauntering over the kitchen, mittens in hand. The sweet smell of the glaze and salty tang of melted cheese wafts through the air as soon as I open the door and take out the two trays inside. The scent immediately fills the entire room, and even with the door and windows open, the mouth-watering aroma lingers.



My head snaps up at the two of them, and I can't keep back the smile at the sight they make.

(*laughter*)

Isabella is clinging to the door frame for support, doubled over with breathless laughter.

(*embarrassed coughing*)

Ash is the more composed of the two, trying to look unconcerned, but a flush has crept up his neck and cheeks. It's clear whose stomach that came from, and Isabella's not going to let him live this down.
You're in no place to reject an offer of free food, Frey.

Relationship Change

- Ashton + 1
- Isabella + 1

I wasn't— I wasn't rejecting anything. Damn it. I just missed a meal, that's all.
Awww, he's flustered!



Well, aren't you precious?
Right. You know, if you keep laughing like that you'll burst.
Ashton really doesn't handle embarrassment gracefully. At least he didn't smash his phone again.
I'm sure it won't be as bad as your stomach suddenly rumbling like a starved—
A'ight, kiddos. Play nice. Food's going to get cold if we keep this up.
Ash, you gonna stay?
Might as well since Scaredy-cat's so hell-bent on staying.

A Hearty Meal - Have lunch with Ashton and Isabella



We eventually settle down after the food has been served; the jibes replaced by another round of friendly chatter, mostly about what's on the news the night before. There is, however, a conscious effort to avoid mentioning what's currently on the headlines. The dead is never a good topic to talk over food and polite company. This case in particular. The wounds are too fresh, too soon. I'd likely avoid it as well if I were in her position, and someone I personally knew passed away in a gruesome manner like that.
Though perhaps the closest we got to broaching the topic is when the infamous mansion is brought up again. But even then, we are careful, Ash and I. We keep the conversation light and avoid bringing up her late business partner. It's the least we could do.

The Wrights? Yeah, they're planning to move in soon. In fact, they already have a housewarming party planned. It's why they wanted us to rush the papers. They wanted to send the invitations out as soon as possible.
Oh, now I get it!
Get what?
Remember what I told you last night about the new clients?
Vaguely? Sorry, I was a little out of it yesterday. Was it the photoshoot?
Yep! It's actually for the one you sold. Ermen—Ermah—something.
When you put it that way, I suppose it makes sense why my boss wants me to prioritize the couple.
If they can have those documents rushed at just the snap of their fingers, then they're more influential than I initially thought.
Man, I guess my boss is expecting a lot more from this project than I expected. Hope I can live up to it.

We already know he's more than good enough.

Your photographs are more than good enough, Zach. You'd probably win an international award, if you let yourself!
Ma'am Hannah's easy to please, too, as long as you're good at following instructions.
Easier said than done. Different clients have different tastes after all.
Still, a week? I don't think that's possible.
Now that you mentioned it... yeah. They wanted everything finished at the earliest.
To be honest, it's not unheard of, but...
…But it's still fish— weird. Still weird, yeah?

I still remember the days when the Wright's behaviour and speed seemed strange and fishy to me. After seeing through Hannah's eyes, that has mostly subsided, though.
A slip of the tongue. Still barely noticeable to someone who's already familiar with Ash's ways, yet in this moment, it's impossible to miss.
I shoot him a curious glance but he ignores it. Rather pointedly.

I can't exactly say it's like that. We're— I'm just the middle-man, after all. As much as I want to comment on it, I only know what's on the surface, not the ins-and-outs. It's just that BRC and my boss are more hands-on with the legal stuff this time, despite having a separate department dedicated to it.
Maybe Mister Wright helped with it too? They have their own legal team for this, don't they?
Well, they should have one... especially for a big property like this.
They have, but like I said, it's off our hands. Rose and I don't handle this stuff in the office.
If anything, to me, this just means I'll be able to send the rest of the funds for Papa's treatment earlier.
Hm, I guess that makes a whole lot of sense. Officially off our instant noodle diet, aren't we?



Look at that shit-eating grin. I mean, technically potato-eating, but it's nice that the background pictures emote along with the conversation.

What? I was just saying! A few more months of stuffing your face with those, and I'm sure you'll start to look like a noodle cup.
Oh, that's a pretty picture.
At least I don't live off convenience store food. Or make poor, unassuming pressure cookers explode.
What...? How did you...?
Oh, come on. Zach!
Sorry, it just came up while we were cooking earlier.
I'm impressed, Ashton Frey. You even made it to the news.
A one-time thing, and it wasn't as big as you seem to be imagining.
Oh, sure. Let's all pretend that one time you almost set my apartment on fire didn't happen, too.
Hey, that was an accident.
You were making a salad, Ash.
Can we please move on to a different topic?



By the time lunch ends, the shadows are no longer at forefront of my mind. If it's the same for Isabella, for whatever troubles her, I can never tell. These things — the anxiety, the fear; they ain't easily seen, ain't easily forgotten, after all.

Music: BGM Marianne Theme



I'll be downstairs in a minute.
Confusion briefly flashes in her eyes as she catches the keys he tosses over; but he doesn't give her an answer, and waves for her to go ahead.
How sure are you I won't be driving away with your 'Shirley'?
You don't even have a license. Do you even know how to?
Papa taught me how. I'm probably a better driver than you.
Shirley is his car? Ashton gave his car a name?
See you later, Zach! Thanks for the food!
Always has to have the last word, don't you?
You're welcome. I'll send you the recipe for the potatoes tonight!

A grin is back on her face when she leaves and closes the door behind her. For a little while after we're left alone, Ash goes wholly quiet; listening, waiting for her remaining footsteps in the hall to fade. The earlier amusement is gone from his face, replaced by what I can only describe as trepidation. I know that look all too well. When he's like this, he's expecting shit about to go down at some point soon.
That wasn't very nice, Ash. What was that with Isabella earlier? You're usually subtler with your questions.



'Hired me' who?
Don't change the subject, yet. What's really going on here?
The Wrights. Luke and Hannah Wright. You said your next gig is with them.
Is that what this is all about?
Just— Be careful around them. You have no idea what you're dealing with when it comes to that couple.
I'd rather you stay as far away from them as possible, but you're already here; Isabella's their real estate agent... seriously, of all the people in Luxbourne…
Okay? I guess I'll just have to take your word for it.

You seem awfully prejudiced against them, Ash. Lemme tell you about your childhood friend Rebecca and Hannah then...

He nods, claps a comforting hand on my back, and turns to leave without another word. He's never been good with those. More often he fumbles with what he wants to say, but his actions alone are enough to tell me how grateful he is for the trust.
He reaches for the knob as soon as he gets to the door, but doesn't turn it.



... He's not actually looking at the table, though. Kinda the opposite direction.

I don't need to follow his line of sight to know what he's going to ask about. He's likely taken notice of it the moment he entered the room.
You back on those? I haven't seen you take them in a year.
Yeah. I kinda had to. It got worse after the film fest. The dreams, that is. I don't think I'll be doing that again anytime soon.
Heard about that.
Don't drop it though. You don't want Becca scolding you. She actually enjoyed the movie you made, and she's hard to please. Consider that a small victory.
You don't have to tell me. She already did.
Rebecca and 'Bella both gave me an earful after I said the opposite. Promised them I wouldn't, but you can never tell. Hopefully, once I feel better, I'll be able to think about it properly.



Yeah, I'll try. I can't promise anything, but I'll talk to her.
Thanks, that's all I'm asking.

This time, when he reaches for the door, he lets it close fully behind him without glancing back. A mild draft sweeps into the room as I close the door behind him, slightly disturbing the papers on the nearby fridge.

(*paper falling*)

Ever since Isabella's route, i've kind of been dreading this noise.
A lone note flutters by my feet, the letters on the surface glaring at me with mute intensity. Ermengarde Mansion. H. Wright, 11 A.M.




Journal Updated - OCT 25

Ashton arrived to fetch Isabella hours later, but she didn’t want to leave after all the food they prepared. In the end, Ashton acquiesced and stayed. The Wrights and Zach’s upcoming gig were the few topics touched during their talk over breakfast.



'October 27, Thursday | Zachary's Room | Midnight'
Music: Ambience Red Room



We've skipped ahead a little - it's now two days later, after his (mostly) pleasant little afternoon shooting with Hannah. Didn't someone say they were wondering how those peculiar photos from the staircase would come out? It's time to find out.

(*theme humming from Zachary*)

Oh no, not you too Zach I thought you were supposed to be good at music!

The next two days rush by in a blur, altogether leaving a collective mess of work suddenly piling up and new unexpected acquaintances — or friends? Depends on how you look at it, really.
Either way, I'm stuck developing these photos at three in the morning to reach a deadline set by an overeager art director. Don't get me wrong; Julius is good, has a vision, and knows what he wants, but damn, he can be too enthusiastic sometimes. Doesn't matter when you couldn't sleep anyway.
There is nothing new in it, of course. After years of working as a freelance photographer, it's simply something I have grown used to— Get to know people, build a client-base, do good work and cash-in some late hours if need be. Rinse and repeat.
It certainly takes a while to get some footing on the field, but it's the kind of thing that pays off in the long run as long as you keep at it. Given enough time, you might end up with big names on your client list. Names like the Wrights, in particular.
I never did pay much attention to them, but it's virtually impossible not to hear about them when a local news channel or paper has something to say on their name. A party here, an acquisition there. Sometimes it's a new business venture, other times it's the everyday gossip that typically follows popular people like them. Not in a million years did I ever imagine I would end up working for such a high-profile couple. And between that and the fuss that comes with, it leaves me no time to ponder over whatever happened to Isabella or why Ash is so adamant we keep away from the pair.

They do seem like the good folk, though. Despite the whole fame thing.

Sure, there was a rumor running around years ago; about him being involved in some business scandal. But just like every gossip blown out of proportion by the media, nothing came of it, and eventually, it simply died down. Much is definitely left to be said for the husband, but I doubt a woman like Ms. Wright would pick him if he doesn't have any good points at all.
Ms. Wright— Hannah herself, though...



The tabloids had it all wrong, that's for sure. For someone born with a silver spoon in her mouth... well, she ain't exactly what I was expecting. Among other things, the newfound friendship is what I least expected from her, but here we are.
Although with a life as public as the Wrights, no wonder it's the woman who often gets the crappy end of the stick. I can't help but feel sorry for her. She's real nice person when given the chance. Heck, she might have even ended up friends with Rebecca and Isabella too, if they weren't living worlds apart. Probably.

(*beep*)

The beep quickly pulls me back before my thoughts travel any further. In one practiced motion, I carefully place the wet print I'm holding on a drying rack, and amble over my makeshift dark room to get the last photos from the water bath. Inside the converted broom closet, the film processor lets out another soft clack before going on its standby mode. At its mouth, a lone photograph sits on the tray, barely visible with the lack of light. It's the last one tonight for the set Ms. Wright requested.
I don't usually make this a habit. Giving away stuff, that is. It's bad for the business, no matter how well-intentioned or generous you are. This exception, however... She did treat me well and was a pleasant companion all throughout the shoot. Even if she didn't ask, I would've probably given her a few prints just for the hell of it.
Ms. Wright ain't such a bad subject matter to begin with.
O-ho.
And maybe this is just me, but for someone who has everything at the palm of her hands—all the money in the world, a loving husband, and a plenty big mansion to call home, she's... Lonely. She doesn't just appear like it. It shows in the tone of her voice, how she moves, and most certainly in her smiles. Always hidden behind the glamour for the world to never see.
Sometimes... Sometimes for people like her, small things like these helps; a little reminder that the world can be kind, too.

(*drip*)

Water drips from the paper as I blindly pick it up and gently lay it on another tray holding a decent amount of photo-flo. A few seconds under the solution is all it needs before it's ready for drying; no good rushing this last one even if my body's already screaming for some decent snooze.
My hand fumbles for the light switch, moving towards it with familiarity, while I fish for a squeegee among the mess of tools on a drawer with the other. The bulb flickers twice before its glow settles and casts a soft light in the tiny space. When I glance back down, squeegee in hand, ready to finish the process and finally call it a night—

What on earth?

(*screeching horror sting*)



Blurred and distorted beyond recognition, rather. The area completely smudged over, leaving no trace of the same sweet smile the good woman carried in all the previous prints.

Damn, that was too careless.

A common mistake to make of course, if one is negligent enough to pick a newly processed photo in the dark, like I apparently did.
Errrr, yeah, that's... I guess that can happen when you fat-finger a fresh photo in the dark. But that's almost Hannah-level of denial.
It has happened before. Loads of times, actually. But I still can't help but feel a small pang of frustration over one mistake a newbie would likely make. With a sigh, I reach up for the switch again, intending to develop a new one from scratch.

It could pass off for one of those supernatural pictures they show on TV, though.

A memory clicks—one cursory thought in the sea of many, and a short yet distinct second from the day before. A glimpse is all I got, but it's enough to burn the image in my mind.
There was a shadow.

Music: BGM Mystery



No. A woman. In her twenties or early thirties, maybe?
But with how far gone her flesh alone has become, it's not possible to tell at first glance. The skin itself has already taken a sickly pale color; rotten in most parts, blood dripping from every open gash and lesion on her body. Bony hands grip Ms. Wright's neck like a noose, staining the skin underneath with a vibrant shade of scarlet. Nothing but malice fills the gleam in her eyes.
Zachary?
Not for me. But for Ms. Wright.
Zach? Is something the matter?
O-Oh no, there's— there's nothing wrong; I just remembered something, that's all.
L-Let's get back to the pictures...



Digital cameras glitching out can have some real strange side effects nowadays.


Journal Updated - OCT 27
Some of Hannah’s shots from the photoshoot the day before came out distorted after Zachary developed them. He would’ve almost dismissed it as human error if he hadn’t remembered a chilling memory from yesterday’s shoot…






The memory alone is enough to make me retch. I brushed it off then. A trick of the eye, I told myself. Or a product of the heat. The weather has been unexpectedly warm recently so it shouldn't be too surprising for such things to happen. And... well, blaming this on the usual—fatigue, an overworked brain, the weather, or an amateur error on my part—is far more convenient.
It makes a whole lot of sense than what the small voice inside my head whispers. The same tiny voice that only makes itself known when something's afoul, the same one that lent a curious ear to Isabella's worries about the mansion. And with each second I spend staring at this photograph, the murmurs in my head only grow louder against my ears.




This choice is quite straightforward. We can take this fucked up photo to Hannah - we were going to show her the photos anyway, if they hadn't come out this way - or we can go and show it to Zach's best friend Ashton. They are both not exactly great plans, but Zach is acting under duress here, and i guess these two are the best he can come up with right now.

POLL: Ashton or Hannah?

The story branches here, but the next choice(s) are just around the corner. I don't really feel like dumping three more choices without proper context onto you now though, so the next update will just have to be rather short.