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Birmingham, 1919
Isabella had no recollection of the previous couple nights, and days for that matter. The last thing she fully remembered was jumping out the window from Finn's room long after he had fallen asleep, and made her way to the Zoned Hall, where she had immediately proceeded to chug down a whole bottle of whiskey.
Through the cloudy alcohol induced haze, she knew she had met up with Nicholas, and her other friends, at some point. Where she knew both she and Nicholas had gotten yelled at by Sage for leaving her alone with 'those fucking cunty assholes', those were definitely her words.
She also remembered there being a handsome blonde at some point. And she had also at some point during the days ended up taking a swim in the cut. But other than that, she had no idea what else she had been up to.
She had woken up tangled up in a bed with two girls, each on her sides. Once she realized that there was no alcohol near her, she found her clothes and snuck out of the room and the house. Which she guessed belonged to the man who had spit out his tea once he saw her walk through the living room and out the door.
As she stumbled back to the Shelby residence, she kept trying to button up her shirt, which she was quite struggling to do. However, she had been able to button up the three on the bottom – on her own – and she was rather proud of herself for that accomplishment. She kept chuckling to herself as she kept struggling.
Isabella decided to ignore the throbbing headache she had, deciding that if she didn't give it any attention it would disappear on its own. Not one of her smartest ideas, but it could work, hopefully.
"Isabella!"
"Fucking shit man!" Isabella jumped in surprise at her four brothers standing before her. "You all need fucking bells! Fuck me! Bells!"
The brothers took in the disheveled appearance of their sister. Her hair was put up into what looked like it used to be a ponytail, but most of her hair had fallen out of the hair tie, her under eye bags were so dark they were clearly standing out. And she was also walking around the streets, showing off her black bralette for everyone to see. She looked like absolute horseshit.
"Where the fuck have you been!? Eh!?" Arthur demanded, as he kept his eyes focused on Isabella's face, refusing to look down at her unclothed body. "And why are you bloody walking around like a fucking whore!?"
"Shh. Not so loud." Isabella said, her voice coming out quiet and croaky. She kept her eyes on her hands that kept struggling with the buttons. She noticed her hands started shaking at Arthur's tone and words.
Fuck, he sounded exactly like Arthur Sr.
"I have been... I don't even know... Can't remember... But wherever I was, It was very bloody fun... Very fun." She mumbled, trying to force herself to solely focus on the buttons and not the memories that tried to force their way to the front of her mind.
