“Oh, see, that’s cute. You actually thought that I cared. I’m so sorry that you’ve gotten the wrong idea, but... yeah, no. I don’t. At all.”

It was another beautiful day in Bluebell and what better way to spend an evening than being half fucked up in the park and getting some prime guitar practice in? As he mindlessly picked at his guitar, he found himself plucking a tune that was very satisfying to the ears. He would most definitely have to use that in the future. He stopped for a second as he heard footsteps approaching nearby. “Hey,” he said with a smile. “You trying to keep me company?” He asked, raising an eyebrow at the other person.

TEXT MESSAGE 📲

Normally,Artemis would never use her phone while walking since it would end up distracting her and would mostly cause small incidents but she was waiting for a reply from her boss. Anxiously,she would check her phone for any notifications whenever she could and it ended up making her bump into someone. Her phone fell on the floor,screen down.

Frankie’s luck had never been all that great, ask anyone and they’d tell you the same. It would, of course, be him who managed to lose the keys to his car on what felt like the coldest night of the year. He stood beside his car as he rummaged through the mess of his bag, desperately trying to manifest his keys at the bottom of all the junk he’d let accumulate. When that didn’t work, a sigh heaved from his lips and he let the bag fall to the ground in favor of bringing his hands up to his face then through his dark mess of curls. 

Devon was sitting on the steps of the church with his guitar, strumming random chords and paying no attention to anything else around him. It was one of those days where he just felt...off, so he just needed a quiet place to get his thoughts under control. 

As the drinks continued flowing, Harper found herself getting much more social. The warmth of the alcohol made her giggle, drunkenly wondering what kind of trouble she was about to get into. After taking another sip of her Vodka Cranberry, she turned to the person next to her at the bar and smiled widely. “Can I buy you a drink? And no, I’m not hitting on you. Unless…” She teased with a playful smile.

Sawyer may not have been born in Alabama, but she’d moved to the small town at an age that made Bluebell feel like home. She knew the streets like the back of her hand, and she would have been lying if she said she didn’t enjoy that she knew everyone in town’s name -- for the most part. It was a blessing and a curse, however, when she found herself at the bar, on her night’s off.