Rosita Rosales

Except, it couldn't be further from the truth. She was abused until she felt brave enough to run away. She had nothing, nobody and she built this life for herself. Her late husband helped a lot, but she still found those opportunities by herself, took the risks, made the choices.

''I'll do that later,'' she said calmly, not really offended by his words. She was too used to hearing them. ''First, I want to understand why you did what you did. You had him!'' She didn't know much about these fights. The date who had taken her there assumed she was too stupid to understand. She wasn't. She just had to find someone else to explain it to her. ''If you tell me why you did it, and if you explain to me how to make sure that doesn't happen to me again, maybe I'll get you a drink,'' she said, her gaze traveling down his body. She noticed the way he was shaking and raised an eyebrow. ''Looks like you might need one.''

Starter: open for everyone

Location: library

Earagon ambled through the cobbled streets, the familiar rhythm of his footsteps a comforting counterpoint to the city's gentle hum. His gaze, however, was soon drawn irresistibly towards a building he knew intimately – the grand, old bookshop, a sanctuary of stories he frequented with a passion. Today, a particular longing tugged at his heart. He found himself searching, not for just any tome, but for a cherished work by his dearest friend and human companion, the sadly departed Miss Jane Austen.

During his extraordinarily long lifetime, Earagon had been granted the immense privilege of befriending the witty and insightful lady, and today, an acute pang of nostalgia for her presence, and her prose, settled upon him. He yearned to reread Pride and Prejudice, one of her truly fantastic works, a book that never failed to charm and captivate him with its sharp observations and timeless romance.

With a hopeful sigh, he pushed open the heavy oak door, the familiar scent of aged paper and ink enveloping him like a warm embrace. He stepped inside, his eyes already scanning the towering shelves, praying that the beloved novel would still be in stock. As he navigated the narrow aisles, his attention fixed on the endless rows of spines, he inadvertently bumped into someone. The other patron, just as engrossed as Aeragon, also had their eyes buried deep within the pages of a book. Curiosity, an ever-present facet of Earagon's ancient spirit, piqued within him. He leaned in slightly, a subtle tilt of his head, hoping to catch a glimpse of the wonderous work that had so thoroughly captivated the stranger.

Her eyes were closed as she laid on the bed, of course Natalia heard the door but in her drunken state she wasn't too worried about who found her. She was trying to kick off her shoes to get more comfy under the covers when she heard a voice start talking to her. "Shhh you're going to wake him up!" Natalia snapped before the weight of what she said settled into her chest.

No sleep was going to be had any time soon, not that she was reminded that there was no waking her uncle up anymore. There was no her uncle anymore. The silence and the tension in the air was palpable. "I didn't want to use the front door because I didn't want to see you." She muttered, wondering why she even bothered to come here in the first place.

The silence settled again and gnawed at Natalia like something feral and begging to be broken. "I just needed a place to stay. I miss him." The words were small, like how Natalia felt. She fought back the tears that were threatening to escape. Like it was weak to show that she had any emotions. "You weren't supposed to even know I was here." Or existed she wanted to say.

It was hard to stop herself from snapping at the younger woman who was just drunk and sad. Most people thought Rosita was heartless, but she wasn't really. ''I miss him too,'' she admitted instead. It was easier than scolding her from using the window instead of the front door. She didn't really care.

''Well, now I know. You can either tell me why you needed a place to stay tonight, or I can just leave you alone and assume you'll sneak out that window tomorrow morning,'' she shrugged, as if she couldn't care less, but she did care. She often did despite herself.

As it was a nice day, Harlow had decided he would take some pictures for his blog. He didn't know where he would be doing that, initially. But he would let the day just lead him along. Eventually, this led to him ending up on the beach. Harlow snapped a few pictures of the sky and a few scenic things around there. Not too long into that little endeavor, he moved to sit on some length of sand, yawning a little bit as he played with the surrounding sand with one hand and looked through the pictures on his phone with the other. Gripping some sand in his hand, he raised it, then let it slowly fall out, noting which way the breeze was at the moment, “This would be much more fun if my friends weren't busy.” Harlow lamented. Glancing up, though, as he saw a figure nearby, he scrunched his face a bit against the sunlight before recognizing them. Well, not personally so much, as much as the grapevine that seemed to surround them. Harlow did not deal in rumors and the like though, he liked to know someone personally before he made any judgments. When it seemed she might be looking his way, he raised a hand to give a polite, friendly wave at her.

She still remembered the first time she felt the sand on her toes, questioning why she had to remove her shoes to experience this for the first time. She remembered when she first jumped in the water and tried to swim. She didn't even know this was something people did.

Now, many years later, it's something she does as often as she can. Spending time as the beach is one of her favorite things to do. She thought she was alone and sat down on her towel after she decided she was done swimming, but was surprised when she locked eyes with a stranger. She was even more surprised when he waved. Maybe he was new in town, people usually did everything they could to avoid her.

''Can I help you?'' She lifted an eyebrow, assuming he definitely had bad intentions.

There wasn't a lot of places where Natalia felt like home, her only living parent wasn't at the house long enough to make it feel lived in. So Natalia spent most of her days and nights roaming about. At first it was just to calm the loneliness but as time grew on it was to avoid the quiet around her that always leads to her thinking. But there was one place that always felt like home no matter what and that was Uncle Eduardo's house.

He always took care of Natalia, giving her attention and love when she felt like no one ever saw her. Hardly a week went by where Natalia didn't see him at least once. At least until he started bringing her around more. Rosita. Natalia hated her the moment she laid eyes on her and at least Natalia knew that it was pure jealousy. Things were different after that. Uncle Eduardo didn't seem like hers anymore and that stung for Natalia. So she started coming around less and less until even Eduardo was taken from her too.

She was angry. Angry that Rosita still got to live in the home despite ever really knowing him. One night Natalia got drunk enough that she snuck into her old room that was always promised to be hers, no matter what or where life brought her. She missed the only family she felt like she had and she told herself she'd be out before the sun rose so Rosita didn't even have to know she was there. That is until Natalia tripped on her way in through the window. "Shhhhhh" she snapped at no one in particular, like someone was sneaking in with her. "I'm going to be so sneaky." She whispered as she crawled across the floor and onto her bed that was still like she remembered. It felt like she was coming back home.

It wasn't often that Atlas found himself on the other side of the bar, pouring drinks instead of drinking them, but one of his usual bartenders was off sick so he'd had to step in. He'd dabbled in bartending a few times, so he knew his way around things, but he wasn't nearly as good as his staff were. But, he was trying his best, and he hadn't managed to mess anything up or break anything, so he considered that a win.

When a woman appeared at the bar, Atlas put on his best smile. "Hi, what can I get for you this evening?" He asked in his best, most charming voice. "First drink of the night is on the house."

She also didn't know the man owned the bar, ''How nice of you,'' she said, a smile playing on her lips as she considered her choice. ''A martini, extra dirty,'' she added with a playful wink.

Camila wasn't sure what she was expecting when she showed up to Rosita's house. But she was surprised after she was invited inside. She almost declined, just scared that she'd mess up somehow so she was scared to even try, but Camila figured she might as well here she better not give up a chance.

She walked into the house, still not bother hiding her gawking at the place. It was the most beautiful place she'd seen and she couldn't believe that it was all her sister's. If they were closer maybe she would say how proud she was of Rosita, but Camila knew there was a chance they'd never be that close for it. "Yeah they both sound fantastic actually." Camila said, following her into the kitchen.

"Ha ha." Camila sarcastically laughed with a roll of her eyes, she was feeling so miserable and she was sure she looked like it. She sat down and immediately grabbed the coffee, taking a sip and humming at how good it was. "I always heard how terrible hangovers could be but I always thought people were exaggerating. But this is the worst."

''Drinking so much for the first time at 28 wasn't your best idea,'' she teased even thought she definitely knew it wasn't her fault. She was actually proud her sister did decide to let go and get crazy. She took a sip of her coffee, followed closely by a bite of eggs.

''Seriously, did you have fun? Met anyone?'' She asked with a wink.

Beau squinted at the menu, mentally debating what to bring back for Jay. He wasn’t sure they’d have the kind of drink Jay needed, but maybe… Could he add blood to a coffee? He was still lost in thought when he noticed someone waiting behind him. Turning with a friendly smile, he said, “Oh, sorry! I’m not in line yet—still trying to decide.”

''First time ordering coffee?'' she asked, her words sharp with judgment cloaked in a veneer of politeness. The tone was so deceptively sweet that the man might have thought she was genuinely curious.

Camila had mixed feelings about being back in the same place with Rosita. It was nice to know someone in town but she knew all too well just how complicated their relationship was and she didn't even know if there was a way to fix it between them. But that didn't mean that Camila wasn't going to try now, knowing she should have tried more back then.

She tried at the masquerade but Rosita seemed to be doing her own thing and frankly Camila was too far gone to even have a good head about everything. So after battling her first ever hangover for her first ever time drinking, Camila made her way to her sister's house with a shoebox in hand.

After knocking on the door she nodded in a greeting and motioned towards the box. "I brought this in case you wanted to go through it. It's just a bunch of different stuff I grabbed from the house before I had to run." Okay so maybe Camila hasn't told her the full story but she wanted to at least make this effort. "There's some valuables. Some photos. I didn't know how much you wanted after you left so I just took what I could."

But when Camila moved to town, everything shifted. Suddenly, the one person who knew her too well was here. Camila might have missed some milestones, but she still knew her better than anyone else ever could.

Camila’s presence opened up the possibility for others to know her, too. If Camila started talking about their past, it would pull back the curtain Rosita had so carefully drawn. The thought made her uneasy.

Since that first day filled with revelations, Rosita had mostly kept her distance. She needed time to process everything alone. But when her sister appeared at her door, box in hand, she couldn’t turn her away. Rosita glanced at the box, then at her twin, hesitating a moment before wordlessly letting her inside.

She wasn’t sure if she was ready to open that box of memories, but she could see that Camila needed her to. ''I made breakfast and coffee. You must be craving both after last night,'' Rosita said with a knowing smile. She hadn’t been with her physically, but she’d kept an eye on her nonetheless.

With a subtle flick of her magic, she set everything on the table: eggs, bacon, toast, and steaming cups of coffee. She sat down, gesturing for Camila to take the seat across from her. ''You had fun?''

Maia was having a boring night and she was trying to think of what to do when she had a brilliant idea. She didn't care how long it was going to take for Rosita to come home, she would have waited all night for her. It was the upside of having a key to her place, Maia could just come in whenever she pleased. So Maia was messing around on her phone on Rosita's couch while she waited for her to come back.

She could hear her coming in, even without the advanced hearing, she could hear Rosita fumbling about outside. "On the contrary that might make it the perfect day." Maia said with a grin but it faltered when Rosita kept walking into the kitchen. She was fumbling around before Maia heard a scream and glass shattered. It was clear that it really was a bad day and Maia needed to fix it somehow for her.

Before Maia could get up to see what was going on, Rosita was straddling her and making her touch her. Maia immediately reached around to hold Rosita slightly. "Hey hey, no. What's going on?" Maia knew what this was, how many times had this happened to her? Wanting to act out just to forget feelings. Hell, the two of them tended to sleep together without any questions. But Maia knew something was up. "Listen let's just get something to drink and you can talk about it. But we're not doing that. Not tonight."

When Maia had refused to touch her, to distract her from the world like she usually did, Rosita felt herself break a little more. She buried her face into her neck, letting the tears fall freely, the warmth of her skin offering a small bit of comfort. For a minute, she just stayed there, breathing in Maia’s scent, the tears quietly streaming down her face. But then, as if realizing how vulnerable she was being, Rosita quickly pulled herself back, standing up abruptly and beginning to pace in front of her.

"I would, Maia, but I can’t remember where I hid the bottle I got last time," Rosita snapped, her voice still laced with anger. Her hands furiously wiped at the tears on her cheeks, but no matter how hard she tried, they kept coming. It was obvious she was trying to hold herself together, but she was fraying at the edges. ''I don't want to talk about my stupid feelings, if you won't help me, you can just go,'' she said even if the last thing she really wanted was to see her leave.