#couldntshed

                “ The day I stood up for MYSELF and kicked Dean out of our home was the day I took my LIFE back. Was it easy? No. But was it necessary? Hell. Yes. ” 

>:( mY VALENTINO WHITE BAG?!

He had thought himself SAFE on the southside, away from his ‘family’. Turned away not once, but TWICE and so he had taken the precautions to keep on the other side and out of their perfect little lives. He’d found a sanctuary on the other side, more so than Centerville and he had kept to the shadows. Even when Chic had come into town, Charles had kept himself hidden away. Given the psycho nature, should he try to unmask the impostor, it could have meant DANGER for the family that had thrown him out like trash. He was a fuck up and one not needed in their lives as he wasted away in odd jobs and drugs. He found more comfort in a dime bag than he did with any sort of FAMILY structure.

Oh, but he couldn’t remain safe forever. He never really expected to run into her on the southside of all places. She’d MOVED ON from that life apparently. But stepping outside of the trailer park, bright blue eyes landed on the blonde woman and he could feel his blood turn to ICE in his veins. He was frozen for a moment then two and three, unable to walk away as quickly as he should have. Sure, he’d seen her around; avoiding the family completely was IMPOSSIBLE but he’d always managed to remain just a face in the crowd.

But why would she recognize him now? She’d known him only as a baby before passing him off to the sisters and he certainly didn’t sport the Smith, or COOPER blond hair as the rest of the family seemed to. Just another junkie in the trailer park she would probably think. And the woman wouldn’t be too far off.

FREYA NEVER wanted to be the bearer of bad news, but she didn’t know helena would -- could be this cruel. her heart pinches in her chest and it feels like she can’t breathe. shoulders roll back and she sits a little straighter. eyes dart to the images of betty and polly cooper on the walls and she aches for alice -- aunt wendy. fate can be a demon, can’t it? ingrid and freya would love to have cousins, but the truth is they just don’t exist. her heart weighs heavily, she feels like sinking deeper into herself. 

SHE LEANS into her wildcard, reaching into her purse to pull out a picture of the beauchamp girls all together -- because while helena wanted to erase the memories, she’d forgotten how intuitive her nieces could be. they’d saved a few spare things from the house in east end, mainly for the sake of remembering. little did they know it would be quite literally, “this is weird for me, too. i know you have these memories, but they aren’t really yours.” 

For the sum of ten minutes, Drizella’s face was burrowed against the older woman’s neck as she read, refusing to leave until she was given the attention Alice was currently denying her. Before it could reach eleven, a soft little whine worked it’s way from her mouth and she finally lifted her head, pawing (pawing) at the woman’s arm to try to get at least a glance. “I don’t like this silent treatment act you’re putting on...I hate it..”

“THANKS FOR having me over,” a soft smile to alice across the table, “your spaghetti is my favorite.” the compliment hangs in the air for a moment as lorelei takes a drink and another bite of food. it seems that alice knows dinner is the best way to secure a jones’s company ---