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Unrequited love is a poisonous drug, and heartache is the expected hangover of the morning after. It’s a hangover of regrets, a hangover of longing and “if only”s. The highs of unrequited love are nothing short of extraordinary, making the lows that much more gut-wrenching and nauseating.
Pepper woke up latching onto Taco. It took a moment for her to remember where she was, sleeping in a bush in the middle of the forest. Taco appeared to still be asleep, her arm holding on to the small of Pepper’s back, keeping her in place. Pepper buried her face into the woman’s suit jacket. She ran a hand down her side, interlacing fingers with her. She was soft, and she was here.
Pepper felt the cold morning air brush past her shoulders, and her eyes shot open at the awareness that her jacket was missing. It must have been discarded at some point in the chaos of last night. She carefully let go of Taco’s hand and lifted her arm off her back (although it took a moment; the woman’s grip was tight). She pushed her way through the bush, attempting to get as few twigs in her (now messy) hair as possible. It was then she realized that her beret was missing as well, but that mattered a lot less.
She finally spotted her gray jacket neatly hanging off the branch of a nearby tree, and rushed to sling it over her black crop tank top. She zipped it all the way up and pulled the collar just above her chin, feeling that familiar nauseating feeling. It still smelled like her and Salt’s room. It still smelled like Salt.
“Pepper. What made you think you could leave without speaking to me?”
Pepper’s face flushed. She turned around to see Taco standing behind her, arms crossed against her chest. She certainly didn’t look like Salt- who was practically a color-swapped carbon copy of Pepper, save for a few extra patterned splotches on her skin (splotches that Pepper could draw out from memory)- but she talked in almost the same way. Salt was pretty much always telling Pepper what to do: what their plans for the day were supposed to be, what outfit would look cuter on her, who she should be talking to, and here was Taco, commanding in the same tone of voice. It was comfortable. It was exciting. It made her heart flutter.
“I was just grabbing my jacket.” She leaned down so she was eye-level with Taco. “Are you so fragile that you can’t handle me walking like five feet away?”
Taco grabbed a fistful of her hair and pulled her further down. “You messed up your pretty hair. Look at how shaggy it is, and all the leaves strewn about.” It was clear that she didn’t actually care, she just wanted an excuse to pull her hair again.
Pepper traced Taco’s arm up to where it rest in her curls, lightly holding on to her hand. “You’re one to talk. I wouldn’t be surprised if there’s already, like, a whole family of rats growing in your mess of a bob.”
Taco lifted up her other hand to Pepper’s cheek, covering a few freckles with her thumb. “On the topic of hair, have you ever considered cutting yours?”
Pepper threw her head back and laughed. Her mind flew back to the few times when she had stood in front of the mirror in the bathroom she shared with Salt, holding her hair up to see what it would look like if it was shorter. When she did, Salt would always come stand behind her, hug her around the shoulders, and say the same thing: “Do what you want, but I think we look, like, so much cuter when we match.” Pepper would always drop her hair and smile at her through the mirror. To tell the truth, sometimes she would pretend she wanted to cut her hair just to hear Salt say that again.
Pepper attempted to run a hand through Taco’s hair without getting trapped in the tangle of knots. “I really should do something for you about this,” she grumbled.
Taco pushed her up against the nearby tree. “You’re fantastically talented at dodging what I’m saying.”
Pepper tried to ignore the flutter in her chest, and then realized she didn’t have to. She was so used to neglecting her feelings, it was going to be hard to get used to having someone there to reciprocate. A plan began to form in her mind.
She leaned down and pulled the shorter woman into a kiss, a gentle one this time. “Let me do this for you. What’s the point of killing the show if you aren’t the hottest person in the room when you do it? Besides, I’d love to make myself useful for you.”
Taco smirked at her. “And how do you plan to do that?”
“Every day, Salt goes out walking with weights at ten in the morning. While she’s out, I could totally sneak into the hotel and grab some hair product from my room. Then…” she traced a finger along Taco’s collarbone “no one will be able to look away from you.”
Taco grabbed the collar of Pepper’s jacket, holding her in place against the tree. “For someone so expendable, you sure do talk the talk of a leader, don’t you?”
Pepper practically melted at that, and Taco took the silence as an opportunity to keep talking. She let go of her grip on Pepper’s jacket, instead raising her hand to rest right under her chin. She kept tracing a thumb over her lip, doing this for three reasons: it kept the woman quiet, it had her flustered, and that was the spot where Microphone had a lip piercing.
“Here’s how this is going to work. I am going to help you break into OJ’s ill-gotten hotel. You are going to grab whatever items you wish from your room, as this will be the last time you will return there.” She leaned into Pepper’s ear, so close Pepper could feel the heat of her breath on her neck. “And if you attempt to back out now, or get anyone else involved, I will personally ensure that MePhone won’t be able to recover you,” she whispered, marking the end of the sentence with a sharp kiss on the taller girl’s neck.
Pepper swallowed a lump in her throat. “I need to know what time it is.”
Taco took a step back, releasing her from the tree. “That, I can help you with.”
“Taco, who is this?” MePad asked skeptically when he was turned back on, sounding annoyed (if at all possible).
“Hush. I don’t need you to talk, I only turned you on for the time,” Taco said as she tapped at his screen. “9:47,” she echoed back to Pepper.
“Ok so,” Pepper said, attempting to squeeze the stray leaves out of her hair, “we should be over there soon. Salt loves sticking to her schedule. She’s always out of the room by 10:00, out of the hotel by 10:03, and back in the room by 10:22. That gives us a small window to break in.”
“Break in?!” MePad said, his worries ignored.
“My room’s on the second floor, so I’ll like, need a little help with that,” Pepper continued.
Taco grinned and gave MePad a nudge. “I’m sure MePad would be delighted to contribute.”
“Ladies, please, slow down. Taco, just yesterday you were making plans to reconnect with members of the hotel. Where did these new plans to break into it come from?” the robot asked.
“Me,” Pepper firmly stated, giving him a glare.
Taco tugged on her hair. “I’m the one in charge here, lest you forget.”
“Taco, please don’t hurt-” MePad tried to start.
The two were ignoring him. Pepper pulled Taco’s hand out of her curls and pushed her back. “Keep doing that, and I’ll, like, end up with straight hair.”
Taco pulled on Pepper’s ear piercing. “You’d hate that, wouldn’t you?” she whispered.
Pepper bit her hand, and Taco retaliated by shoving her to the ground, tracing a finger around the shape of her face. Pepper grabbed the shorter woman’s blazer, holding her in place. She was waiting for her to kiss her again. Taco didn’t give her the satisfaction, instead planting a kiss on the underside of her jawbone, pushing herself up off the ground, and dusting herself off.
Pepper let out an annoyed sigh and followed suit, brushing the grass off the back of her jacket. If Taco was going to pull a stunt like that, the least she could do is not mess up her look.
But when she looked up at her, she couldn’t help but give the girl amnesty. She couldn’t help but admire as Taco turned off MePad (who by now looked very uncomfortable) and slung the robot over her shoulder. Admittedly, a small part of her had always admired Taco. Well, not always. Her earlier season one escapes were…incredibly annoying. She would get on Pepper’s nerves even more than Lightbulb or Balloon ever did.
But in that finale? Everything changed. Taco was the first to ever defy the game, the first to not play one of the parts that they all fit so perfectly into. Pepper always longed to wonder what that freedom must have felt like, what that defiance must have felt like. But OJ hated her, so Salt hated her, so Pepper hated her too. Pepper was a follower after all, not a wonder-er.
Being a follower was poisoning her, though. She never allowed herself to wonder, or to want anything, only to want things for Salt, so she could get a taste of it too. When the realization of how much she wanted for her best friend hit her, she threw up in the bathroom. It was the worst hangover heartache ever gave her.
Here, with Taco lugging a robot over her shoulder and angrily motioning for Pepper to follow, she didn’t feel that gut-wrenching heartache. She felt the highs of wondering what it was like to want something. And right now, she wanted this love, if that was what it was. She wanted to feel a love where she didn’t wake up nauseous.
She quickened her steps to catch up to Taco, who placed an arm around her. She pulled her in as best she could while carrying MePad (which wasn’t that well, but it lit sparks in Pepper all the same). She wanted this love, if that was what it was. She wanted to do whatever she could to be told that was what it was. And the best she could think of right now was to fix up her hair so she would be the hottest person in the room, and maybe after all that she would tell Pepper she was hot, too.
Like Salt used to.
MePad wasn’t exactly content with being mute and disabled in the mud next to Hotel OJ, but the women who brought him there didn’t really care all too much about that. It was 9:58, and Taco was reviewing the plan with Pepper, sprinkling kisses on the back of her ear as she talked. Every sprinkle was getting Pepper more and more excited, as evident by the way she slung her arms around Taco’s neck. Taco would respond by running her hands through the taller woman’s hair, and at this rate they were going to miss their window of opportunity.
MePad had stuck around to help Taco, and while breaking and entering certainly wasn’t the path he was trying to push her towards, he couldn’t deny how…happy(?) she looked. The methods weren’t ideal, but maybe she could use something like this in her life. She definitely deserved to be happy like this, but didn’t she deserve to be happy outside a relationship that required schemes to survive? Then again, who was he to judge? He had spent the better part of the last few months trying to understand Marshmallow’s decision to abandon the game. Could she really be happier in isolation? She hadn’t come back, so she must be, right?
Or maybe happiness had nothing to do with it. If Taco really had only met Pepper the day before, was that truly enough time to create happiness? She didn’t even seem to really treat Pepper like she brought her happiness, she treated her more like she was a video game she could pick up and play for a little excitement, and then put back in her pocket. But if Pepper enjoyed being played like that, did it really matter? He wanted to understand.
“MePad. You’re alive, aren’t you?” Taco said as she tapped at his screen, breaking him from his thoughts.
“Yes. My apologies. How can I assist you?”
“You are going to let Pepper climb on you so she can reach her room on the second story.”
“I did not agree to this,” Pepper said, rolling her eyes.
Taco ran a hand through her curls. “But you’ll do it anyway, because I said so,” she breathed into her ear.
MePad took note of the chill that ran down Pepper’s spine. She enjoyed being played by Taco.
Taco walked over and fiddled with MePad’s system to give him mobility again. He slowly stood up, stretching out his legs. “Ms. Pepper, are you ready?” he asked.
She raised an eyebrow at him. “Hm. Ok.” She climbed up the back of the robot, who was a lot taller than she was expecting. When she stood at the top of his screen, she was right below the ledge of her window. She carefully pushed the bottom of the window up, grateful that it was unlocked. Pulling herself up onto the ledge and through the window was difficult, but soon enough she was plopped on the floor of her now former room catching her breath.
“I was hoping I’d find you here,” a familiar voice said from the doorway.
She looked up. It was Paper.
She stood up and dusted herself off. “How did you know I’d be in here?”
“Oh come on, you always told me how Salt going on her walk was the perfect time to surprise her with something. I figured if you were going to show up at any point, it would be now,” Paper said, taking a step into the room and closing the door behind him.
She couldn’t help but let out a small laugh as she took off her jacket. “It is good to see you,” she told him. Paper, her gossip buddy. Paper, her friend. He and Pepper were friends in a way that was different than she was with Salt. She told Salt everything, but the few things she couldn’t, she told to Paper.
Did he need to know about all of this?
“Are you alright? That fight at the party last night looked…rough. Where did you even go?” he asked, grabbing a towel from the bathroom and helping to wipe some dried mud off her arms.
“The woods,” she answered truthfully.
He gave her a look. “The woods? Really? The Pepper I know would never.”
She picked up a scrunchie from her nightstand and pulled her hair into the neatest bun she could manage. “The Pepper you know is taking a bit of a break right now.”
She went to rummage through her closet, and he let out a nervous chuckle. “Do you know when she’ll be back? You had us all a little worried last night, and all my calls went to voicemail.”
Pepper ignored him, grabbing a particular low cut pantsuit out of the closet. Paper immediately recognized the outfit as she went into the bathroom to change. “Pepper, please don’t do anything crazy,” he said through the bathroom door.
She swung the door open, now dressed in the finest outfit she wore: a silky black low cut pantsuit with shimmering rhinestones that trimmed the edges. She leaned against the doorway, daring to raise an eyebrow at the short man in front of her. “What are you implying?”
Paper leaned against the other side of the doorway, raising an eyebrow right back. “That’s the outfit you wear when you’re trying to get Salt to look at you.”
She shoved him out of the way, storming back over to her nightstand to shove some dry shampoo into her cutest tote bag. “This isn’t for her,” she grumbled.
He walked over to her, gently placing a hand on her shoulder. “I know she’s worried about you. She was different at breakfast this morning. She barely looked up from her phone, and barely even looked at…I mean…”
He didn’t have to say it.
“Look, I get it, ok?” he continued. “Love- this stuff- it can…hurt…when it doesn’t go how you want it to.”
Pepper threw the tote on the ground and paced around the room, rubbing her hands over her face in an effort not to combust. This wasn’t “hurt.” It was more than that. Her skin felt like it boiled up inside of her. Her heart would beat in her chest like there were pins in it preventing it from performing correctly. Her insides were constantly shifting around, never content to stay settled in her stomach. She used to get butterflies. Now she was just nauseous.
“Paper, I love you, but you don’t get it. You can’t. For you, Salt’s love for OJ is just an annoyance. At the end of the day, you still get to go to your room with him and you get to sit on your bed with each other and you get to laugh and talk and share in your ‘painful’ little requited love, but I don’t get to escape her like that.”
“Pepper…”
Pepper sat down on her bed. “We tell each other everything, Paper. Everything. It’s pathetic how many people in this hotel I’ve pretended to fall in and out of love with just so she wouldn’t think I’m hiding anything from her. Pretend dates with you, fake love letters from Pickle, those paragraphs of affection I had to make up about Knife…it’s exhausting. Love is exhausting.”
He sat down next to her. “Love shouldn’t be exhausting like that.”
Pepper ran a hand over her hair. She tried to do it the way Taco did, like there was treasure to be found in it; like there was something to look for and hold onto. “...You’re right. It should be exhilarating,” she whispered, more to herself than anyone else in the room.
She jolted back up, shoving her favorite comb, set of press on nails, and a few more scrunchies into her tote bag. “Paper, I know you mean well, but I can’t stay,” she said, adding some deodorant into her stash. “Your boyfriend is ruining my life, and I’m so sick of pretending like I can handle it. I need a win, and I’m never going to get that here.” She threw a few more items into her bag, preparing to take a leap of faith into the win that waited for on the ground.
Paper grabbed her wrist. “Pepper, please don’t do anything crazy,” he begged, so much more desperate than he had a minute ago.
She placed a hand on his shoulder, leaning in to whisper in his ear. “Tell her I’m not coming back. That might make her care.” She was ready to ride her high until she crashed.
He sighed, and let go. She slung her bag over her shoulder and shoved herself out the window, bracing for impact. A yelp of surprise forced its way out of her mouth when she found herself caught in Taco’s arms, silenced by a kiss that she placed on her lips. She placed her bag on the ground, grabbing Taco’s face and pulling her in for a longer one. This was the exact kind of win she needed.
Taco was the one that broke the kiss, taking Pepper’s hand and placing it over the taller woman’s chest. “I suppose I never truly pondered just how much of a common enemy we have in OJ.”
Pepper was putty in her arms. “I want him gone. I want his stupid hotel gone. I want Salt to feel that pain,” she said in that voice that could only come from someone who had desperately wanted to kiss her best friend for years.
“And I just want him to lose,” the shorter woman added.
Pepper traced a finger along Taco’s chin. “You’re petty. It’s really hot.”
Paper couldn’t help but peek over the edge of the window to see who carried Pepper away back into the woods. He sighed against the wall. He had to tell OJ.
“It’s just so weird, y’know? Like honestly, I don’t really care what he said to Balloon in season three or whatever, he’s always gonna be that sarcastic little weirdo, you know?” Pepper said as she worked on some of the knots in Taco’s hair.
“I’m still hung up on that. Season three? When did that happen?” Taco had never been one for “gossip” necessarily, but she had to admit, the exchange of intel was entertaining, not to mention useful.
The two were seated on a hill that overlooked the hotel and the world below, MePad turned off and stashed away in a nearby bush. It had taken a minute for Taco to finally allow Pepper to mess with her hair, but Pepper was in a rhythm now. And she always worked better when she talked shit about people she hated, anyway.
“Girl, I dunno. It just like, happened. New contestants and everything, apparently. I heard there was even this ‘Silver’ guy who was quite the fan of you. I don’t know who wouldn’t be.”
Pepper leaned down to mark a kiss on Taco’s neck, but she swatted her away. “Don’t get ahead of yourself, darling.”
Pepper sighed, but kept working at the mess of tangles in front of her. She sprayed a little more dry shampoo in Taco’s hair, continuing to run her comb through. “…What was it like?” she couldn’t help but ask.
“What?” Taco deadpanned.
“Like, taking over the show, I mean. It was yours for an episode. What was that like?”
“It was never mine,” Taco mumbled, before “I suppose it was fun to mess with everyone. Except for Lightbulb, of course. Never understood that one.”
“Ugh, tell me about it. And I hate her dumb stupid crab.”
“Hm. How are we going to disable MePhone?”
Pepper paused. “What do you mean?”
“If you meant what you said about intending to end the show, we obviously need to take out its key component.”
Pepper continued working at her roots. She was getting close to fully combing out her hair. “Can’t you just like, hack into him or whatever like you did with the other guy?”
Taco rolled her eyes. “MePad is a far less advanced model than MePhone is, and besides, MePhone has arms. Not to mention those generation abilities.”
“Ok, then just get someone who can. You don’t have to be rude about it.”
Taco paused for a moment. “Someone like…who?”
Pepper pulled on her hair a little. “Oh now you want my input?
“Hush, I’m thinking. Test Tube stays at the hotel, correct?”
“Yeah, she shares a room with that Mic girl.”
All the more perfect.
“Mk, I’ve got all of the knots out, not let me just…” Pepper said as she pulled some of Taco’s hair back into a small braid that lay over the rest of her bob. She finished it off with a scrunchie, and handed her a small compact mirror from her bag.
Taco had to admit, she was impressed. In the chaos of the show and Microphone leaving and all of the gut-wrenching pains the competition took from her as of late, she had been neglecting keeping up her appearance. She was…lucky to have Pepper here.
She grabbed the girl’s hand and turned around to face her. She looked at her face for a moment- her face, freckles and all- before leaning in to give her a gentle kiss on the cheek, the way Microphone would have done it (and pushing down the nauseating feeling that came with that thought).
Pepper pulled her in closer, tracing her hands over spots on her hip and back where Salt would have had splotches of discoloration. She always wondered what it would have been like to touch Salt there.
Taco held Pepper’s face in her hands. “Are you truly sure you want to do this with me? There may be no going back.” She didn’t quite know why she had asked the question. It wasn’t the kind of question she would ask.
Pepper tightened her grip on her. “I want to follow you, wherever that leads. You tell me what to do, and I’ll do it.” She sounded deadly serious, like she didn’t even need to think about it.
Taco shifted the way she was holding the taller woman. “Ok, then let me kiss you again.”
Pepper flustered, and she took that as her chance to grab her arms and pull her down closer. She dared to be gentle, dared to treat her like she cared, and repressed the sickening feeling that came with it. She was trying something familiar, and ignoring the heartache.
Pepper held onto her, but she hated her being gentle. She wanted Taco to kiss her like she could care less, like she knew she was more important than Pepper would ever be. She wanted the villain of the show to treat her the way a villain should, and she wasn’t. Or maybe she was by not? She just wanted to feel those sparks she did the night before.
She pulled back from the kiss. “I think you should like, call me darling more often.”
Taco leaned back on the grass. “Alright, darling, how about we make our move tomorrow? ‘Burn it all down,’ as you were so excited to say?”
She melted. There were the sparks. “Just tell me what to do.”