cigarette daydreams • mgc

chapter 7

charlie was over it.

she was over the way michael treated her but she was mostly over how easily she listened, how easily she took orders from him. she felt like a little obedient pet and not a second goes by where she thinks michael would agree.

it's probably why he's always got that stupid smirk on his face.

but charlie had to admit, the subtle grin or the quirk of his lips when he smirked suited him. it suited michael, not that she actually knew who he was. she just knew him as michael johnson, the cocky guy with red hair and trait for stealing her things when she slept. that's all she knew and quite frankly, that's all she thinks she'll ever know.

and she's okay with that.

she wasn't planning on sticking around with him for too long regardless. she was far enough from home now to start anew. she still had wads of cash rolled at the bottom of her bag with michael paying for everything so far. if anything, the girl was set.

of course, until the very thought of leaving michael made her feel bad.

he's been paying for every hotel stay and every meal. he's been paying for the gas and the snacks along the way. the drinks and shots, the laundromat and the cigarettes.

michael has paid for it all.

as much as charlie felt bad, she couldn't help but wonder how the young man managed to afford all of it. he didn't seem much older than her, maybe two or three years ahead. with the way he shit talks her wealthy upbringing and privileges in her life, she has no doubt michael hadn't been brought up the way she was.

otherwise, he would've been more of a posh snob than her.

she felt rude asking, it not being a question that's touched upon lightly of course. she was worried about michaels reaction.

what she should've been worried for was his response.

"we're gonna pull over for a bit, you okay with that princess?" michael asked, one hand on the wheel and one hand resting in his lap. his knuckles were bruised and cut, fingernails bitten off out of what charlie would assume was stress.

"how come? don't we have a few more hours before reaching- uh.. 'blondies' place?" she asked quietly. she couldn't help but notice the red haired man's grip on the steering wheel tighten. he looked mad, stressed, every other negative emotion that charlie could possibly think of right now.

michael could only nod before running his hands down his face, rubbing his eyes in exhaustion.

these past few days were nonstop for the man. his hands blistered with paper cuts and holding pens and pencils for too long.

he's been flipping through maps and calling the guys for every bit of guidance recently. it's been harder to stay in the clear when they weren't as careful as they thought they were last night at the bar. some bartender caught a glimpse of his face, it matching the description of the many posters scattering their city.

he called the police and turned him in, letting them know about the stolen credit card as well.

the credit card was linked to the hotel where they fled from that morning. the same credit card michael has been using all along was now cut into pieces at the bottom of the hotel dumpster.

the law was smart, but he was smarter.

"cigarette break, doll. not to worry, i just.. i need a second." he responded, voice barely over a whisper as he pulled the car over, stepping out of it.

the roads were dark, nothing but trees and some occasional old buildings scattering the large plots of land and fields. charlie watched as michael leant against the hood of the car, lighting up the deathly stick. his fingers toying around with the lighter as he took a deep inhale, holding before breathing it all out.