𝒈𝒂𝒃𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒍𝒍𝒂 𝒅𝒂𝒘𝒔𝒐𝒏 had always had a habit of finding herself amongst the wrong crowd. she had been told that for as long as she could remember, by her father in particular. he had warned her that a crowd like the ones she called friends...
chapter eight ; deadly ties [ season three - episode fourteen ]
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"𝐆𝐀𝐁𝐁𝐘? 𝐆𝐀𝐁𝐁𝐘 𝐃𝐀𝐖𝐒𝐎𝐍?" the bartender gasped, pulling himself up off of the bar to get a better look at the blonde woman walking into his bar. As he shouted, heads turned, and cheers began to spread as she playfully bowed, happy to return to the second closest thing that she had ever had to a home. She spent almost every night here, working behind the bar as an excuse not to be in the so-called home she lived in with the Alpha pack. San Diego was the second best she had to Beacon Hills, although she had spent more time in Seattle, there was something about it here that felt more like she belonged. Of course, that was why it was the place she knew she had to come to when she left Beacon Hills yet again. It seemed like she was on a never-ending cycle.
What felt like an entire lifetime ago, when she was just seventeen, she worked behind the bar, it was obvious she was underage. The owner knew that, the other bartenders knew that, and even the regulars who would buy her a drink knew it. But they all accepted her anyway. They loved to see the pretty young girl behind the bar, the bright smile she had and the mystery she brought to their city. She never told a soul where she had come from, at least none of them, whenever they asked, her lips were sealed, she avoided the topic like it was forbidden. It was the last thing that she had wanted to talk about, the only reason she wanted the job was to find a distraction from the place she had left, and to find sanctuary in the bottom of a glass.
The blonde placed herself at the bar where she was handed her usual drink, only this time, she was of legal drinking age, it was strange to think that of herself. How she was no longer a baby or some lost little girl that needed taking care of. She was her own woman now. From now on she'd fend for herself, making her own way in the world.
What brings you back here? he asked, leaning on the bar, pouring her a strong glass of tequila, a small lime wedge on the side, just how she used to make her own. The last they had heard from her, she was packing up for Seattle, onto bigger and better things, at least a seventeen-year-old Gabby had been convinced of such.
Looking for an old friend, she told him, her finger tracing the edge of the glass. It was taking a little longer than she had anticipated, she admitted, throwing back the drink, allowing the taste to burn her throat. I'm guessing those bigger and better things didn't go your way? She scoffed, the understatement of the decade. He poured her another drink, this time, it stayed in the glass for all of a minute longer as she swirled it around. "I don't suppose you've seen her lately, huh?" Gabby asked, he knew who she meant, in all the time she had worked here, he had only heard her talk of one friend, he had only ever seen her with one friend.
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