Chapter Two           ╱ This Is How It Starts
[ Pre-Panic ╱ Challenge One ! ]
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          Life away from Carp, Texas was only achieved with possession of one thing. Money. Whether it be to pay for college, or just an apartment in a slightly less shitty town, money was needed to do it.

This is why Panic was built on a cash prize, cumulated through dollar donations given from every student at Samuel Maverick High School once a day. This is also why every job in town━━━that could be━━━seemed to be filled by teenagers, and why they were always tripping over themselves and clawing at each other like cats to grab one if suddenly vacated.

Cassandra was one of the lucky ones. A few years ago, she had managed to snag a position at the mostly rundown and barely functioning post office in town. Her secret? The woman who ran it felt bad for her because all those years ago she was one of the few who helped her parents leave town━━━sans their newborn daughter and not-even-yet-legal son.

Despite it fully being a pity offer, Cassandra had grasped it in her fingers like a starving woman and it was the only salvation she had found in miles. In a way, it was.

The job had allowed her years of savings to build up. All of which she should still have, and be ready to spend on a college far, far away, but that wasn't something she felt like rehashing for the umpteenth time━━━even if in her head.

Instead, she focuses on pushing through her day like nothing was amiss. This morning, she had woken up to her first alarm, snoozed it till her third, and rushed out the door just before it meant being late.

This calculation of time included the allotted three minutes she'd spend in Dot's Diner━━━where she'd not only be getting her morning caffeine fix but talking briefly with Edith, the sweet old woman who worked the early morning shift and always greeted her with a smile.

Pushing open the door to the diner with her free hand, a bell chimes above her head. "Good morning, Ed-" Cassandra stops, the once huge smile slipping off her face in replace of a confused frown. "You're not Edith."

Behind the counter, pink lips quirk into a frustrating smirk, Dodge Mason shakes his head. Yet, he doesn't look up from where he's wiping down the counter in front of him meticulously. "I am not."

"Where is Edith?" While the wrench in her morning routine isn't going to send her into a spiral, she isn't deluded enough to deny it could be the start of one. Somehow though, she ignores this and slides into one of the stools in front of Dodge. This also isn't a normal part of her rhythm, and she probably doesn't have the time to spare, but she does it anyway.

Dark eyes flit up to her briefly, before back at the counter in front of her. It shouldn't be as irritating as it is that he seems unfazed by her sudden presence. "I'm pulling a double to cover for her. She's out sick."

"Oh," she pouts, not ashamed when her lips tug down as she actually pouts. "Is she okay?"

The look Dodge sends her is calculating, and he takes so long to answer her question she begins to think it's going to be worse news than she anticipated. Finally, he looks away. "Yeah, she's fine."

"Jesus Christ," she mumbles, sighing in relief and deflating in her stool a little. "Don't wait so long to answer a question like that again. Nonetheless, that's good." Adding the last part like an afterthought, she perks up a little.

The boy in front of her hums like he's considering her words, but she doubts it absorbed with how quickly he moved on. "What's that?" With the hand still holding the rag, he points at her deep purple tumbler sitting in between them.

"Oh." The girl looks at it dumbly, taking it in like it just appeared instead of being traveled with her━━━like it had. "Edith usually puts my coffee in a travel mug because I have the earlier shift at the post office."

The words come out slowly because she doesn't know if it's against regulations or not, and she doesn't want to get Edith in trouble if it is. Eyeing Dodge warily after speaking, Cassandra drums her fingers on the counter.

Yet, the diner employee only hums and looks back down at the counter. It's pristine to her eye, so it comes up a little unclear what he could be focusing on. Honey glaze eyes travel the length of the rest of the counter like that'll tell her, but her eyes land on her watch instead. Shit.

"Right." Clearing her throat, she bends down to collect the tote she dropped by the feet of her stool. Standing up straight with the bag back on her shoulder, she reaches to take her mug back and leave before she's late for work. But as she does, she finds Dodge is holding it and unscrewing the top of it. From somewhere behind the counter he produces a pot of coffee, filling it up and stopping right before the top.

"Creamer," he says, quirking an eyebrow at her like he's guessing despite not truly asking.

"Yeah," she answers anyway. He hums again, filling the rest of the mug with creamer before screwing the lid back on effectively. Setting it down in front of her again, he doesn't look up before he moves to wipe the other side of the counter.

"You and those counters," she mumbles as she grabs the mug and brings it to her lips. "Might need a crowbar to separate you." Taking a sip, her face twists when she finds it weirdly perfect. Luck.

Still, her eyes linger on the curve of Dodge's back as she takes another sip. The shop is silent beside the tick of the clock up on the wall, and when she registers it, she looks at her watch again and curses.

The brunette behind the counter raises an eyebrow at her over his shoulder. She waves him off.

"Thanks, Dodge," she calls absently as she semi-hurries out of the door, slowed by the inability to look away from the mug in her hand now that her eyes are off the boy who made it. The whole time, she stares at it like it's alien.

Distantly, she thinks she hears, "You're welcome," but it's drowned out by the chime of the bell as she pulls the door open.

It's only once she's out of the door that she realizes she forgot to pay. And that Dodge didn't stop her for it.

          Two hours into her shift, Heather, Bishop, and Natalie burst into the abandoned post office with a flourish. The blonde throws her hands up when she spots Cass leaning behind the counter and calls, "Randy fired me!"

"He fired you?" She demands, shooting up from the rickety stool and sliding around the counter to hug Heather. "But you're the only one━━━"

"Whoever actually does anything!" The four all echo together, the truth of the statement floating around the building.

Pulling away from the brunette's hold, her best friend shrugs. "Don't worry, Natalie already offered to poison him through his prescription refills." Reaching out toward Bishop as she speaks, she grabs two of the lemonades Cass failed to notice in his hands━━━shoving one toward her. "Then she told me all about how I won't need to worry about money when she wins Panic."

Taking a sip of the one staple from the Snack Bar on Main Street that all four of them can agree on, her lips pull into a frown around the straw as her eyes dart to Nat's. "Confident."

"I mean," the dark-haired girl shrugs and swipes her hair over her shoulder playfully, "who's my competition? Ray Hall and Tyler Young?" Her scoff is disbelieving, and Cassandra feels her own bubbling in her chest.

It was impossible to know if Natalie was purely a hypocrite━━━something about not wanting them to put themselves in danger while she was fine to do it herself━━━or if she truly didn't want competition, no matter if it meant better things for her friends. Cassandra had always thought the latter, but sometimes she wished to give her the benefit of the doubt, if only for the sake of the other two around them.

Whatever it was, it wasn't something she felt like dealing with this early in the morning. No amount of perfectly made just-a-tad too sweet coffee is going to have her ready for Natalie and her unpredictable moods. Yet, she couldn't just say nothing either. It was a lose-lose, no matter what she did. Keep her mouth shut, get torn into. Say something, get torn into. At least, most likely.

Sighing internally, her lips split and she cracks a, somewhat bitter, grin. "Well, don't count me out that fast," she pretends to joke, busying her hands with finding a cupholder for the sweating plastic in her hands before setting it on the wooden counter. It almost meant her eyes didn't have to meet dark brown and imploring.

Surprisingly, it's not Natalie who speaks up first, but the man beside her. "So," her eyes pull to him, "you meant it last night. When you said you might play."

All of their faces portray a different set of emotions, and they each sting along the thousand little invisible cuts that have been digging into her skin for weeks.

"Come on guys." Her hands fall to her sides, thumbnail and pointer finger digging at a loose thread in the stitch of her jeans. "I know I didn't plan to play, but with Kevin's bills and the sudden medical debt, I'm drowning. Panic, while not what I want to do, is one of my only options."

Pleading in a way eyes can only do━━━that there aren't good enough words for and only the picture of it can be defined━━━she turns to Heather and Bishop. Beside them, the frown hasn't left Natalie's face.

Bishop, heart too big for his own body, is the first to crack. "Of course, we get it." He answers her unvoiced question, stepping forward to wrap her bicep in his hand and squeezing. "It's just daunting, is all. The idea of two of you playing," his eyes ping to Natalie, "with what happened last year, is all."

"People died, Cass," Heather agrees, sounding halfway too distraught in a way only the four in the room recognize. It pulls the chestnut-haired girl back to her side. Wrapping her arms around her shoulders, their heads knock together and they both breathe out roughly.

The air fills with a tension sharp and taunt, and as the two hold each other, Bishop scuffs the toe of his shoe into the ground with sudden nerves.

Their last, silent party, finally clears her throat. It demands all attention, exactly as she expected. As she's always seemed to crave. "Well," her smile is as brittle as Cass' had been at the beginning of the conversation, but present nonetheless. "Maybe a challenge is exactly what I need."

The unspoken words etched in the corners of her friendless wrap the words in barbed wire and appear to cut at her throat as they leave her. The trail is bloodied and ruined as they make their way to the others, but no one but the brunette can see that.

The other two carry a different version of Natalie around. One that never met Cassandra, and she gave up a long time ago on thinking she'd get to.

"Maybe so."

Nails dig into their feet right there, freezing their souls in place and leaving them stuck and forever reminded of the words that were the start of an end. If only they weren't invisible and pain wasn't something the four had become all too accustomed to feel.

          The next day, the papers fly out.

Nothing but a few hastily thrown-together symbols, but when they landed in the hands of the seniors eagerly awaiting them, the message was clear. Panic was starting, and the fireworks popping open in the night sky above Pilot's Point was their warning call.

Alex had been the first to call her━━━already with Natalie, who was parroting on her own call in the background. "You'll meet us there?" He asks.

"Yeah," she mumbles, grabbing the bag from the foot of her bag. "Have you still not━━━"

The older boy cuts her off abruptly, and she can almost imagine the way his eyes dart to his girlfriend. As if she'd be able to hear Cassandra through the phone pressed to his ear. "No. I don't know if it's better to ask for permission or forgiveness," he admits.

"Forgiveness." Cracking open her bedroom door, she peeks out into the hall. The light is still on in the living room, which means the coming conversation with Kevin is inevitable. "She'd never give you the permission. Not that she has to, you're your own person, but if you're debating the two, forgiveness is definitely your safer choice."

The sigh her friend lets out through the line is one that's weighed by years of similar situations and results, and she winces. "Alright, I got to go. We'll see you there." Shuffling can be heard, and she has to assume they're already leaving to make their way to Pilot's Point.

Ending the call and forcing her phone into her pocket, she moves to do the same. Only, to be stopped halfway toward the door. "Are you playing or watching?"

Until a little over two months ago, Kevin Drew seemed unstoppable to his little sister. For as long as she could remember, she'd admired him and felt urged to make him proud. Now, while the latter was still true, it was hard to wrap the same invincible feeling around the image of him in their living room━━━encased in plaster all around the waist and down his left leg, unable to move without the assistance of the grey crutches sitting beside him. Something that was even still a challenge most days.

Yet, it was because of the latter that the thought of answering weighed heavily on her mind. She couldn't lie to him, had never been able to, but she couldn't tell him the truth either. It have been so much easier if he didn't know what she was about to do, but there wasn't much Kevin didn't know about happening in their small little town. Bartender in the one good bar in their town means he's all ears to plenty of secrets he probably shouldn't be.

While the silence in the room lingers, his eyes dig deeper into her back. "Well?" The tone rolls out of his mouth layered in expectations, and she sighs. Shoulders swoop down with the sound, a physical display of her defeat as honeyed eyes flick to her brother.

"Playing."

Kevin sucks in a breath that might as well have sucked all the air out of the house━━━and almost as if it could actually come close to leaving her lightheaded, Cass sways on her feet. Truthfully, she sways at the pressure mounting to make sure she doesn't disappoint her brother. And as he continues to fail to say anything, she sighs. "Kev?"

In the months since the accident, it's like her brother has aged decades in spiraling away days. As he runs his hands through his hair now, she half expects it to come away suddenly greying. Of course, it doesn't, and she shakes her head.

"Are you sure about this?" He finally asks, and she can't begin to explain how his lack of immediately shutting her down settles something in her gut. "You know I trust you, San. I'll know you'll stop if it's too much but━━━" He cuts himself off, head thrown back against the recliner and eyes imploring as they bore into hers. "But after last year, I don't like it."

"You wouldn't have liked it the year before either," she reminds gently. Kevin's always been protective. Ever since she became the only person he had, and vice versa.

For a long time after their parents left, he was too protective. It piled levels of resentment and a lack of trust between them in the form of forming walls, and they only were just able to knock them down before fully cemented because Cassandra had told him if he didn't take a step back, she'd go stay with the O'Hion's until the end of high school.

It was a harsh, no matter how called for, move. It made them both open their eyes a little wider━━━Kevin to take stock of what he was doing, and Cassandra to notice the person she's had to become.

When she was a child, there was a layer of carefree that soaked into Cass' bones and seeped right out of her pores when her parents left. She went from not having to worry about anything, to consciously trying to make sure that she was doing anything she could to make life easier for Kevin. For the one person who thought she was enough to stick around for.

Even if he didn't know it━━━and what does she know, maybe he does━━━this was one of those choices too.

A sound leaves him in a mix of a laugh and sigh, and his head rocks back and forth against the back of the recliner. "No, I wouldn't have."

"But I have to go," she tells him. "Not only for what it might mean, but━━━"

"But to do it." There's nothing in his tone to suggest he resents this choice she's making, truthfully there's understanding there she doesn't feel she deserves, but she still shivers and closes her eyes. Pulling her arms against her chest protectively, she shrugs. "Yeah."

"Alright." His lips quirk, but the tension in his neck tells her everything she needs to know. He's holding back from saying more, from trying to parent her out of this choice, and she feels herself propelling forward. When close enough, her arms wrap around his shoulders lightly━━━lacking the normal force she's used to taking him in with━━━and his arms engulf her easily. "But you be safe. Seriously, Cass. The moment it gets weird━━━"

"I'll back out. I promise," she vows, stepping away from the comfort of his arms and making sure he can look her in the eye and realize she meant it. No part of her wanted to be in a situation where it was her life or some stupid money on the line. Yes, she knew how much easier life would be if she won, but that was not a reward worth that kind of risk. "But I've got to go now."

"I know," he mumbles, but not before pulling her back into his embrace again. She doesn't fight it.

          At Pilot's Point, everyone from their graduating class, and then some, have taken their places━━━and made their choices. As she eyes the line of people in front of Summer Calvo, all ready to hand in their phones for the mandatory evaluation━━━nothing that happens here, leaves here; one of the rules Panic's always lived by━━━she does it in hopes of sighting someone familiar.

Natalie or Alex in particular, but it's neither of them that her eyes snag on. Instead, it's the shape of Dodge Mason, who takes up more space in the crowd around him than just his body needs. All because of the look in his eyes.

She should be like everyone else, who leaves the new kid to his own devices and continues on to her friends, but she can't seem to help herself. It seems she's still trying to figure him out, all these months later.

Taking her phone back from Summer, the camera blocked by a sticker that's sure to leave residue behind, she shoves it into her tote without another thought. She can feel the weight of it dropping to the bottom, pulling one of the straps off her shoulder. Pulling it back up, she stops in front of Dodge.

"You didn't make me pay this morning." It's not what she intends to open with, but it comes out nonetheless.

Somehow, the man doesn't even blink at the absurdity of the sentence and just raises an eyebrow at her. Even though it should make her feel looked down upon, she doesn't. "Most people wouldn't complain about that."

"I'm not complaining," she corrects, crossing her arms loosely and leaning back on her heel. "Just bringing an observation I made to attention."

"To serve what purpose?" He asks. He doesn't bother to keep his attention on her, eyes instead leaving her to scan the crowd again in assessment. She frowns, looking over her shoulder to do the same. Nothing jumps out at her, and she has to wonder what he's seeing that she's incapable of.

"To ask why," she tells him when she turns back around because she can't admit it was purely to start a conversation. She has a feeling Dodge doesn't care much about mindless chatting.

It's become common knowledge to her, at this point, that the man in front of her is not easy to understand. Yet, that doesn't make it any less frustrating when his eyes fall back on her and his face is nothing but a blank slate of emotion that says, "Wasn't thinking about it. I forgot. I'm not much of a morning person." Meaning, she can't tell if he's lying.

"Right, well." Around them, voices float in their space, and she wishes that they would give her something to say. A struggle she doesn't normally have, but is no doubt faced with as Dodge's eyes bore into hers. Blue with a splash of brown, she realizes. Heterochromia. It fits him, in a weird way.

Apparently over Cassandra not saying anything, he nods his head in the direction of the water. "You playing?"

She looks to the dark water then too, feet shifting her closer to him as both their eyes linger. "That's the plan," she tells him, debating if she should return the question. Decides against it. She might not know him, but she knows there's no other option Dodge would allow himself. "May the best man win," she jokes lightly instead.

Beside her, and without her knowledge, his lips quirk into a mix of a smile and a smirk. But he says nothing as the two watch Diggins approach the pier and pick up the megaphone.

"May I have your attention?" The redhead calls into the bullhorn, immediately cutting through conversations and sending them all into a silence eerie for a place like Pilot's Point. Until, of course, the cheers at his next words. "Welcome to Panic.

"My name is Diggins, and this summer I will be your host with the most. This year, the winner of Panic is gonna take home the grand prize of $50,000."

Cue, more cheers.

"Jesus," she mutters under her breath, chest tight at the number just presented to them all. A number that would make plenty of people do crazy things.

"That's not normal," Dodge asks, not really a question. "Is it?"

"No," she confirms anyway. "Last year's was only 30."

"You all know the rules," Diggins continues, looking like all too smug a bastard because he knows what he just dropped on them. "What happens at a challenge stays at a challenge, so I don't want to see any posting, tweeting or gramming about it, no exceptions. Anyone found in violation risks losing gaming privileges. The first challenge is The Jump." Turning around, Diggins points at the peaks of the cliff that they're all familiar with. Or, are about to be. Still, their eyes all glide to them like they've never seen them before. Some even cheer and whoop.

"Remember, kids, you want to go out and down into the swimming hole. You miss it, it's gonna be the rocks that break your fall. Take the leap from the Lookout and grab yourself 100 points, courtesy of this year's friendly judges, whoever they may be. Let the games begin!"

Echoing around the canyon, people begin to scream again. One of the loudest voices belongs to Summer behind them━━━she never made it very far past her━━━who immediately begins to pass out numbers.

"Alright then," she mumbles, hooking a hand under her shirt hem and pulling over her head. Her bag drops into her open hand, and she shoves the shirt into it when she loses it. "Numbers?" She asks Dodge, deciding she'll grab a number and then drop her bag off with Bishop━━━wherever he is.

He nods, motioning her along with the wave of a hand.

Summer smiles at them, easy and relaxed like someone not about to take a dive that could kill them into frigid waters, while Dodge offers up his hand. "Dodge, right?" She asks, taking the offered extremity and drawing a number on the back of his right hand. "You're number 12."

When her unexpected partner steps back, Cassandra takes his place. "Alright, Cass," Summer chuckles, hand engulfing hers and cold ink pressing into her skin. "You're number 13."

"Unlucky, then," she mumbles, smiling at the clueless girl in front of her before scooping up a flare. Dodge does the same, and when she looks at him he's suddenly foregone the shirt now in his hand. "Here, you can put that in my bag."

She opens the tote in front of him, and he drops it in after a moment. "Thanks."

"Mhmm," she hums, pushing through the crowd. Her eyes land on Bishop, but his are elsewhere. When she turns to look, she finds Natalie and Alex making their way up the cliffside, flares in both their hands and matching annoyance thrown back at each other. "I'm assuming that didn't go well, then."

Bishop jumps lightly at her sudden presence but doesn't say anything when she drops her bag off next to him without sitting. Even if his eyes linger on the number on her hand. "You knew he was playing?"

"Yeah," she admits, knowing it would come out sooner or later. "Can you say you're surprised?"

Alex's older brothers had both played Panic two years prior, and it was of no shock to her when Alex admitted to wanting to do the same. She's more surprised the other might have thought he didn't want to.

"No," Bishop admits. Over Cassandra's shoulder, his eyes find Dodge and fall behind a shield of distrust. She's just surprised he's chosen to stick around. "You going?" He waves at the Lookout, and she nods. "Good luck."

With a quick goodbye, she makes her way back toward the path up the cliffside, Dodge by her side. As they walk, Diggins announces the first contestant and his status in the game. Not that he needs to, when Ray Hall is as dramatic as he is.

"He said it, so I don't have to, but I will anyway; the one and only Ray Hall is in!"

The man beside her scoffs, even as others cheer around them, and Cassandra nods. "Agreed." The weeds tickle her calves as she treks through them, but she pays them no mind. Knows it won't matter in the long run.

In front of them, she can just make out the shapes of Natalie and Alex arguing the entire way up the mountain. Only stopped when Alex made it to the Lookout, taking the plunge faster than she would have thought. Probably, she knows, to get away from Natalie. Part of her wishes she had the same incentive.

As Natalie steps up in his wake, Cassandra comes to a stop about ten feet away and waits. And wait she does, as Natalie looks ready to back out and off the cliff. Below, others cheer the girl on, but she doesn't look like she notices. Finally, just when Cass thinks she's going to turn away and not do it, she jumps like they've watched players do since eighth grade.

Everyone holds their breath, they always do no matter who's jumping, and don't stop until Natalie resurfaces in the water.

Turning to Dodge, she smiles. "Your turn."

Smirking down at her, Dodge nods. Something in his eyes tells her there's something he's not saying, but she doesn't push. Just watches him make his way forward. "See you at the bottom," he calls over his shoulder.

She watches, in a mix of awe and horror, as he bypasses the Lookout. Down below, Diggins's voice bellows.

"Ooh. Hot damn. Looks like we've got a player trying for the High Point."

The wind whips in her ears lightly, and she's surprised to feel no shock at the choice has made. Somewhere deep in her, she knows this makes sense for his character. Just like his blue-brown eyes, and unreadable face paired with telling smirks.

Still, she feels anxiety curl in her gut at the sight of him up so high, ready to jump so far. Only those truly brave━━━or stupid, depending on definition━━━make the jump from High Point for an extra 25 points. As she watches Dodge, unable to look away, she can't help but wonder which he is.

It's got nothing on Devil's Drop━━━a jump made only by those playing Panic because they truly have nothing to lose━━━but it still holds more risk than the Lookout ever could.

"Contestant number 12. State your name."

Silence answers him, and Cassandra would look toward Dodge for an answer if she weren't already looking. It does her no good, the looking, because she can't make out anything past his figure from this far away. Still, her eyes don't stray as the tension grows.

"State your━━━"

"Dodge Mason!" He sounds confident as ever, but the fear doesn't leave her. What does it say about her chances now, if she's afraid for Dodge before she's even reached her turn?

There's no telling, but she tries to find the answer as she watches the flare Dodge once held fly through the air. The man himself follows.

His head breaks the surface not even seconds after he's crashed down into the water, and Cassandra feels herself sway with relief. Thankfully, no one's there to call her out on it, and she still has a few minutes to collect herself as Dodge makes his way back toward the shore.

Taking advantage of it, she takes as many deep breaths as she can force into her lungs. The skin across her chest tightens as her lungs expand, and she tries to ignore the feeling. Down below, all eyes have slowly made their way to her, but she doesn't care much. Attention isn't what she's afraid of.

She's afraid of making a fool of herself. She's afraid of failing Kevin. She's afraid of failing herself. She's afraid of making it into Panic. She's afraid of getting hurt. She's afraid of dying.

She's afraid of being afraid.

Diggins's voice pulls her from her thoughts, their devil's hand ready to lead them into their demise this summer. "Contestant 13. State your name."

She opens her mouth, unsure if the words are going to be able to make it past her dry throat. Tries anyway. "Cassandra Drew!" It does. It makes it down the cliff and into their ears━━━setting her place into quickly drying cement.

Now, as she looks down at the black water that determines her fate━━━shadows of rocks that taunt her poking through━━━she knows all that's left is her making it down there as well.

The wind has picked up, sending a breeze up from the water and through the trees. It's a miracle she heard Diggins's voice at all when he called to her.

It's all she can think about as she takes three steps back, the wind whipping and singing her its own personal song through the trees. Not her brother, not her friends, not the people who have died after standing where she is now, not even the godforsaken parents who left and put her here━━━in some twisted way━━━but the song the wind and the trees have created for her.

Her stomach rolled, ready to show itself to the world, and the song continued on. She couldn't shut it out━━━couldn't stop it.

She could run from it.

Run she did. Right off a cliff.

She was jumping.

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🧨 :: this is not edited, do not come for me!!!

🧨 :: it's been so long i lowkey feel like i was writing this wrong but i think we're okay

🧨 :: i'm trying to write this so it's easy for everyone to read even if they haven't seen the show, bc i know it wasn't too popular, but i might be failing spectacularly. nonetheless, don't forget to tell me how you're liking it <33