THE PICTURE OF YOU -rafe cameron-

023; the drink

Two minutes past eight in the evening Myra walked into the large lobby of the island club on the figure eight side of Kildare island. She threw a quick glance towards the front desk, thankful to not see Cheyenne working there tonight. Myra adored her coworker with all of her heart, but the aging woman had an annoying habit of always asking a million questions and Myra didn't want the whole world to know that she was at the club on her day off to meet a kook boy. The kook prince in fact. One of the most obnoxious ones, one who was well known for owning more than half of the island. The island club was a rather safe option for her anyways, for it wasn't a place where many pouges hung around. It was a total kook zone, which she was for once thankful for. A kook zone was usually equal to a nightmare, but not today.

The restaurant wasn't too busy, Myra felt the calm and slow vibe of the evening as she stepped into the large dimly lit room. She couldn't see Rafe anywhere, so she strode across the room over to the bar to wait for him. She sat down, ordering a club soda from the bartender. It was some new guy she hadn't seen before, looking to be only a few years older than her. Or maybe he had worked during midsummers? Myra thought so, but she wasn't completely sure.

A few minutes passed and she still couldn't see the tall kook boy anywhere. She started to wonder if he was even going to show up, feeling her heart sink slightly at the thought of being stood up like that. She wasn't supposed to care, yet she did. She even began to question her own idea of taking him up on that drink he had been nagging her about. Had it been a dumb idea? Had it been a trap that she had fallen right into? A scam or some kind of a cruel joke. Another minute, Myra thought as she fiddled anxiously with the brim of her glass, another minute and then she would get up and leave.

"Good evening"

His silky smooth voice rang out in her ears, blocking everything else out. A second later Rafe was behind her, laying a warm hand on the back of her left shoulder. The sensation of his fingertips dancing along her shoulder blade sent shivers down her spine. "Hi" she said, turning around to face him, seeing his ocean blue eyes staring right back at her. "Hey" he spoke back confidently, a faint smirk pulling at the corners of his lips as he sat down on a bar stool next to her, "you came". Myra nodded, feeling Rafe's hand fall from her shoulder. He hadn't said it out loud, but he seemed glad to see her. "Yeah" she hummed, trying to play it off like it wasn't a big deal at all when she had in fact waited anxiously for him just a few seconds earlier, "I mean I thought about staying home, but I wouldn't wanna be an ass right?"

"Right" Rafe chuckled, his glance dancing over her complexion in the dim light, "what are you drinking?". Myra lifted her glass, taking a sip of the bubbly water. "A club soda" she answered shortly, glancing in between the boy and the heavy glass. "With vodka?" Rafe asked, leaning in a little closer, seeming somewhat amused. "No" Myra shook her head, finishing off the drink, "just a simple club soda"

Rafe nodded, sitting up a little straighter as he turned to look at the bartender. Myra watched him as he ordered two vodka sodas with lemon, his chin tilted upwards and his shoulders rolled back. The bartender didn't question the kook boy, he just placed two glasses down in front of him. Myra knew that Rafe hadn't turned twenty one yet, but she was unsure of his actual age. However, it was a known thing amongst the bartenders at the island club that they were to serve the kook kids, despite their ages. It's all about money around here. Money, money, money. Rafe slid one of the glasses over towards Myra, his smirk only growing stronger as he spoke, "there you go". Myra smiled faintly, grabbing the glass, "thank you"

"How was your day?" Rafe asked her, taking a sip of his drink. Horrible, awful, hectic and sad. "Uhm good, yeah it was good" Myra lied, downing a few sips of her vodka soda hastily. She understood that he was just trying to make some polite small talk, but she definitely didn't want to tell Rafe about the depressing details of her day, so she hoped that he wouldn't ask any further questions about it. "Hungover?" Rafe asked, furrowing his eyebrows slightly. "Uhm, a little maybe? It's not too bad" Myra hummed again, thankful for the sudden switch in their conversation. With everything that had been going on today, she hadn't exactly had the time to sit down and wallow in the exhausting feeling that copious amounts of alcohol left her with. Dehydration, pounding headache, hunger, tiredness. She didn't have time for it, she barely had time to heal from the wounds left by her own dad.