cherry bomb

There was a pause as he let that sink in, settling back in his stool. He scoffed, waving away the self effacing comment. "Compared to me? I know." His lips pulled into a dramatic pout. "But if it makes you feel any better, it's more of a curse than a blessing." His beer was set before him and he plucked it up, glancing at her over the rim as he took a swallow, eyes shut tight as it burned its way down. And not in the good, wake-your-senses-up whiskey way. Damn, he should've gotten a whiskey. "You're mostly right. My house has wheels, though, so I've lived a lot of places. Where were you living before you came here? You don't really scream the small town type to me."

"Explain the curse then," she added in, real intrigue shown over he features as she waited for his explanantion. Taking another slow sip from her beer, she placed the drink down and ran her tongue along her bottom lip, making sure to get any remaining liquid free and clear from the area. "Ooh a house on wheels!" she widened her eyes at that. "Do I get to see this masterpiece?" she rsan her hand in small circles where it lay on his arm. "I'm originally from New York, but....became a frequent flyer to many a city over the years."

"don't worry about that little slip, some of us don't mind at all!" she held her own drink up and above the heads of most who were dancing, the corset beneath her own bust tightened and cinched at the waist. she was surprised she hadn't gone and passed out from the lace, but all of the stomach exercises paid off ( or she just wasn't paying attention; this was more likely. ) backed into, though she deftly pulled a pin from her hair, letting her dark bangs peek out from beneath her blonde wig, as she offered it. "would this help? i don't want your top to cramp how much you're having fun. like, thirty only happens once!" and so did every age, but giselle wasn't one to be realistic about that at a time like this. "i can't believe someone threw this together. feels like it happened fucking overnight, who are we gonna thank? it is so fabulous you've got halloween during your birthday month. me too!"

"I know right? This will be my first full year here and if we have something like this every year...I'm definitely staying!" Scarlett knew she wasn't leaving anytime soon regardless, but at this point she was just too excited to be precise. "Oh no, no," she shook her head as she faced the woman. "Like, Halloween is my birthday! Wait...when is yours?" she asked, hoping to find someone with a birthday the same as hers if not close. "You made that?" her mouth dropped open, moving to touch at the corset the other woman wore. "Wait, wait, tell me all about it."

“Oh, thank you! You look amazing!” And she truly did, she didn’t think she ever saw such an intricate Poison Ivy outfit. “Oh I don’t…” But she did, because Phoebe always did at raves. They weren’t her scene, but her appearance at Halloween was obligatory and tradition, trudging after the likes of Jeanie and Seb and making sure they didn’t do something too idiotic as they got carried away in the spirit of it all. “I just…don’t like people using me as a garbage man.” She gestured to the crap laying next to her wicker basket. “But I’m like, good. I was just about to get another drink actually. You want one?”

She began twirling her fingers through the strands of her red hair that kay over her chest, her mind running. "Have you seen Oliver?" She heard herself asking, a giggle escaping her before she continued. "Wait...you might not know him actually...or maybe you do." she tilted her head, her delighted smile increasing in size. "He's like...this tall," she paused, stretching up on her tippy toes, her hand raised to estimate where he'd be. "Brown hair...these really pretty green eyes...oh! And we have this matching tattoo." She moved to show the compass tattoo she had.

Frank stood outside the door, heart racing. Twelve years had passed since he last saw his daughter, Scarlett. He’d spent countless nights dreaming of this moment, yet nothing could prepare him for the reality. The private investigator’s updates had been his lifeline—brief glimpses into Scarlett’s life. College, new friends, a few snapshots that tugged at his heartstrings. Now she was living in Blue Harbor, and he couldn’t shake the feeling that this was his chance.

Celeste, his second wife, had been his rock through the years. When he shared his plans, her eyes sparkled with encouragement. “You have to reach out, Frank. She deserves to know you care.” Her support gave him the courage to take this leap. Still, as he knocked on the door, doubt crept in. What if she didn’t want to see him? What if he was just a stranger in her eyes? The sound of footsteps approached, and he held his breath. “Scarlett? You home? This may sound rather strange, but it’s me, Frank. Your father.” The words felt foreign, yet they hung in the air like a fragile hope.

Groaning internally, for fear that if she did it out loud the sound would cause her head to throb even more, she slowly dragged her feet to the door. Who would even be coming to see her today? She had called out of work to make sure she could recover...and no one here was going to care enough if she missed a day anyways. Hand reaching for the handle of the door, the redhead wrapped her fingers around it when she heard a voice—his voice come through. Frozen, she stood there.

There's no fucking way...how did he even know where she was...why did he even care? Scarlett hesitated, no, this had to be a cruel prank. She swallowed hard, unsure if the words were stuck in her throat or she was forcing them back down. "I-I don't know who this actually is, but this isn't fucking funny." Her hand still gripped onto the handle, knuckles turning white with how hard she was gripping it.

"It's okay." Emir chuckled lightly, nowhere near as drunk as the other was. "Happy Birthday!" he said a little loud, so she could hear him over the music. "This is starting to become a habit now." the man laughed, teasing just a bit as last time the met she had accidently flashed him (well, the vicinity). "I'd offer you a birthday drink, but you look like you need some water."

A fake pout came over her features as she placed the cup down at a nearby table. "Unfortunately, you might be right," again, fake sadness filled her features before she connected that he had wished her a happy birthday a few moments ago. "Oh my gosh, thank you! I might need to take you up on that offer if I'm already forgetting things like this," she shook her head, moving to wrap her arm around his own. "Lead the way to the nearest place to get water Magic Man."

"At the risk of sounding like a complete jackass, I don't actually remember if I got your name last time. But I don't think I'm gonna ask what it is. Kind of sexy not knowing." Alec smirked, eyes daring her to challenge him. Or to lean into it. "Plus, I don't think you could top Wild Cherry for me, anyway." There was a joke about Wild Cherry topping him in there, but he left it unspoken. "You've gotta be new around here, right? I would have noticed you before now."

"Wild Cherry does fit though, in the right circumstances," she spoke again, a curious look falling over her. "You really think so? I think I look pretty ordinary compared to some," she said playfully before continuing on. "Brand new, only been here about three months. I assume you've lived here....hmm, all your life?"

"Ever had a big scoop in this place?" Hudson asks casually, prodding for a sliver of information that might help indicate Scarlett's intentions...or something. He's no good at subtlety or sneaky interrogation. How the fuck do other people do it so easily? He nods at her question and subsequently chuckles. "A loan shark?" He repeats, amused. Is that the worst Blue Harbor has to offer? He might be in the clear after all. Shaking his head, Hudson shovels another forkful of bacon into his mouth. "Nah, I'm fairly sure one of the other staff would snitch on me. I could always seduce her... what do you think?" He wriggles his eyebrows jovially as he chews. "Oh that reminds me, what's this Halloween rave shit? Do people actually go to that? Is it lame?"

"I mean, well..." she started, dropping her fork momentarily so tha she could reach over in an attempt to place his chin inbetween her index finger and thumb, looking at his face from the front and then either side. "I think your chances are prwtty high if that's the route you go, who wouldn't want to see this pretty face hot and panting over them?" she teased, though anyone would be crazy to say he wasn't very attractive. Resuming her eating, she shrugged her shooulders at his next question. "I wouldn't even know, I've never been! But I definitely plan on going...my birthday is on Halloween."

After her birthday, Phoebe found herself exploring weird and magical worlds again, diving into the beloved children’s tales from the collection she had discovered in the back of her closet. She had already done Alice the year before, deciding to give Dorothy a go, in hopes of her friends joining in the trend and making it a group costume event. Except, that didn’t really pan out like she hoped, but she couldn’t deny everyone looked amazing anyway, despite the general lack of cohesiveness across the board. Still, she was happy with her choice, even finding the perfect red shoes, deciding to copy more from the movie than the book she had been reading.

However, with any costume with added props, there was always risk when it came to them getting cared for. “Who the hell keeps sneaking vape pens and empty cups in here?” She announced to no one in particular at the small pop-up bar of the rave, pulling out the offending items from the wicker basket she had been toting about all night, now resting on the bartop. There were also parts of costumes lining the bottom: felt masks, gloves, headbands snapped in two, frown deepening as she extracted each one, gently placing them on the surface provided. “Nice, real nice.”

Anyways, she kept pushinig through the crowd until she spotted a very pretty, familiar face not looking like she was having the same great time Scar was. "Phoebe!" she screamed, making her way quickly over to her before trying to pull her into a warm, and tight hug. "Your outfit is so cute," she nodded, taking another sip of her drink. "Ugh, I just know th-that if I tried to pull this off it wouldn't look this good." she looked over her friend again, pulling smiling brightly at her. "How come you have a frown on?"

He winces internally at the alcohol comment because he wonders how often she does it. Does she depend on it? Is it a problem like it was for Damian? He hates the idea of her struggling like this especially with what he knows about her mom. He stands there, in the middle of the dance floor and despite all the chatter around them, the music playing. He is so focused on being able to hear her, it's like they are the only two in the room. "You don't need to leave, Scar." They both need to figure out how to live in this town together because they can't keep dodging each other, clearly. It just ends up with them running into one another and unable to have a conversation without her crying and him wanting to bury himself somewhere. He swallows at her confession, staring at her.

They were in love at one point. How did it feel so weird to hear it from her first hand?

"I want to be here for you," he steps closer. "Can we..." He looks around, exhaling. "Not keep doing this in public?"

Keys still in hand, she was contemplating running out of there after she spoke. He hadn't taken her previous confession well, and she figured this would end all the same. How would they truly be able to co-exist in the same town if neither one of them could handle just a few minutes in each other's presence? Him stepping closer startled her, eyes searching his with ana lmost confused look on her face before he spoke. "You do?" she immediately asked before he continued. Scarlett nodded her head at his question, looking aroud them now. Maybe that was the biggest component to their issues, though it wasn't like she could easily call him up and ask him to visit for a talk, right?

"Do you want to step outside...or," she looked around the club, noting a storage room closet. "We can go in there?" she nodded her head towards it. "If not, maybe we can...I can text you and you can come to my place?"

She was playing along, though. So that was a good sign. And when her hand reached out to touch his arm, he smiled slyly down at it, feeling like he'd chosen well tonight indeed. "Well," he started, eyes slow to slide from her arm back to her face, "we've got some time. How about you have a drink with me and we see where we go from there?"

"First thing's first, we gotta get you a drink." she let her fingers tap against her placement on his arm as she waited for him to order.

Plus, Mom always said there was nothing a killer outfit couldn't fix... which was less true than an open bar, but Lainey wasn't in the mood to split hairs. She leaned against the glossy wood, inspecting her fresh manicure, when an unfamiliar voice chirped her name.

Lainey looked up, smoothed out her pantsuit, and offered a smile to the woman. "Sorry, have we met?" With a grateful smile, she took her gin and tonic from the bartender and stepped closer to the redhead. "Remind me your name?" She wasn't exactly surprised someone knew her-- it was the perk of returning home, and all, but it was unusual for Lainey to draw a complete blank. Especially someone as striking as this woman, Lainey would certainly remember her face.