[ A skinny, scrawny guy with a buzzcut, dressed in dark jeans and drab shirt and dark hoodie is crawling with agonisingly slow and strenuous effort across the ground.

Behind him, through the thicket of trees beyond where he's struggling to move, is the mysterious giant fence, the sign clearly visible and readable from where he's collapsed.

Jesse is sweaty, pale, the dark circles that were already hanging heavy under his eyes before he'd taken off into the woods now even more pronounced. His hands slap at the ground, fingers digging into twigs and damp earth as he drags himself away from the wall, back in the direction of town. His breath rises and falls shallowly, and his frantic, fear-filled eyes, drooping constantly under the weight of lethargy and weakness, dart around him for some kind of help.

It's a long way back to the town from here, and the sun is already beginning to sink low in the sky. It will be dark soon. Who knows what is lurking in the shadows of these woods while the sun is still shining, let alone when night falls. ]

[ This same skinny, scrawny guy is standing behind one of the stalls at the bake sale.

In front of him on the table are misshapen cupcakes smothered in messy blue icing. Why cupcakes? Well, it's a bake sale, duh. And Jesse is a cook. A damn good cook, too. Not that Jesse remembers exactly what he's good at cooking. He assumes it's food; it's the most logical conclusion, after all. If these's cupcakes are anything to go by, however… Well, Jesse definitely ain't a good cook when it comes to baked goods.

And why are his cupcakes blue? Well, that's another thing that keeps ringing through Jesse's mind: the colour blue. Something to do with blue and cooking, but he can't place what the connection is. It disconcerts the shit out of him that he can't remember. It's like there are entire chunks of him missing, and he has no idea what those pieces are, so has no idea where to even begin searching for answers to fill in the gaps.

But anyway, look, it's not like he wants to be at this bake sale, but Jesse is playing his part. Fulfilling his duty as model citizen of Wayward Pines. Or, at the very least, giving the appearance of a model citizen, dressed casually but smartly. It's not simply the fact that Jesse, like the rest of the townsfolk, knows he's being constantly watched that Jesse is here. There's something else that's been niggling at him: an ingrained way of thinking, perhaps, about the importance of presenting oneself as a model citizen so as to not have people suspect that there might be something more insidious lurking beneath. Hiding in plain sight. Keeping your friends close but your enemies closer. A bake sale, however mundane and lame, is the perfect way for Jesse to hide in plain sight and ingratiate himself into the community, right?

After all, the bake sale is a community drive for the benefit of kids. Kids are a cause Jesse can always get behind. If there is anything Jesse will go out of way to help, it's kids.

So, here Jesse is, standing at his table, with plates of his shitty cupcakes in front of him. He's dying for a smoke. He can't wait for this to be over. But as yet another person passes by his stall, he ventures: ]

Interested in buying some super shitty ass cupcakes?

[ Offered with such a self-deprecating, boyishly charming little smile while squinting against the glare of the mid-morning sun. If Jesse is a shady character, which he most certainly is, he's doing a good job of blending in and seeming utterly harmless. The fact that he can't remember a good deal of why he's a shady sack of shit only makes the harmless, model citizen act he's got going on all the more convincing. ]

Sup everyone. Got a small request. Currently pretty low on cash. Wondering if someone could spot a bro some cigarettes or whatever else people smoke to tide me over for a few days. [ "Whatever else people smoke" = intentionally vague because… what exactly is legal here, man? ] Will pay you back when I'm good for it.