Her heart was so golden, it rivaled even the sun.
In which a girl is tired of living by everyone else's rules, so she decides to make her own.
[Outer Banks season 1]
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THE ONLY REASON that people didn't know about Emerson's less than ideal home life was because they lived far enough away from their neighbors that no one could hear her parents argue. It was a blessing and a curse, really, because sometimes Emerson longed to talk about it with someone. She knew she couldn't though, because everyone thought that her family was a perfect little family with everything put together. They couldn't hear the way Duncan George patronized his wife and belittled his daughter, or the way they both criticized Emerson if she got anything less than an A in school. They couldn't hear Duncan returning home from god knows where so drunk he could barely stand upright. And they surely couldn't hear the way her parents were screaming at each other. But Emerson could, even before she walked in the door.
She debated turning around and running in the other direction. She wanted to, and she almost did. But before she got the chance to backtrack down her porch steps, the door swung open and Emerson was met with a flustered Ashley rushing towards her car. She didn't even acknowledge her daughter, simply giving her a hasty wave goodbye as she shoved her purse in the passenger seat and sped away. Emerson sighed and took a breath, mentally preparing herself for what she was about to walk into.
Duncan George loved to gamble. It hadn't always been this way, though. For the majority of Emerson's childhood, he was a present and attentive father. He worked in the marina and taught her how to fish and tie knots and drive a boat. But he was also the first person to back Ashley up when she scolded Emerson for not getting better grades. She was sure by now that he just liked the bragging rights. Wherever he went, he always told his colleagues that Emerson was an immensely gifted student who was without a doubt going to get into a Ivy League school. The older the girl, the more he pressured her and raised the stakes. "I wouldn't be welcome at the yacht club if my daughter isn't in an ivy league," he'd say.
Over time, her parents worked so hard at pretending to be perfect and maintaining their prestigious status among the kooks that they forgot they were pretending. It was a couple years ago when Emerson began to notice how often they fought and how frequently they stayed away from each other. That was when the gambling started. Duncan was desperate for money, desperate for the illusion that he was as rich as the people who resided in Figure Eight. Sometimes he got lucky, but most of the time he didn't. And when he didn't, he came home drunk.
Emerson closed the door as quietly as she could behind her, praying she would be able to sneak to her room before her father noticed she was home. But she had just barely finished shutting the front door when Duncan came clambering down the hall.
"I've been looking for you!" He shouted. "Where the hell've you been, huh?"
"I was at the beach cleanup," Emerson said nervously. She fidgeted cautiously with the rings that adorned her fingers and Duncan recoiled slightly.
"Ah, yeah. Good girl," he hummed. "I'm glad you're back, though. I need more money."
"What?" Emerson raised her eyebrows as she slipped past the man and into the kitchen. She tied her hair up in a bun and began rummaging through the fridge for a snack. "Dad, I just leant you money last week."
