golden wings melt like blue slushies // JJ Maybank

-It's Called: Freefall-

Icarus rubbed her face and sighed, feeling exhaustion prickle through her body.

In less than twenty-four hours she'd been in a fight, then arrested, found out her grandmother [or long lost relative of some sort] was living on the island, gotten in another fight, and then found out there might be a chance she'd get eighty million dollars in gold.

Suffice to say, she was still shellshocked and in dire need of a nap. Instead, she just groaned inwardly every time the van went over a pothole, her head in JJ's lap, and her eyes closed. It didn't do much, the sky was dark outside. The only light inside the cramped but cosy van was from the lighter her pillow was flicking on and off, and the little fuel symbol on the dashboard, which was flashing a neon red.

She was jolted forwards as John B came to a sudden stop. When Icarus sat up a little, peeking out the window as JJ kept his arm around her waist, she could see a wooden sign pointing them in the direction of the lookout. It was windy outside, palm trees blowing back and forth as if the hurricane had forgotten and come back to destroy a few more things.

"Ready?" JJ asked her with a grin, and opened the sliding door, letting a gust of sticky hot air blow through, ruffling Icarus's still styled hair. "Hit it guys! We're going, recon mission!"

John B was outside already and glanced nervously to the side with a gulp as sand blew into his curls. "Yo, uh... so, uh, I think I'm gonna do this one by myself... tonight. I just, you know, I don't want to spook Sarah with the peanut gallery."

"I've never understood what that means, is he calling us nuts?" Icarus whispered to Pope as she smoothed the front of her shirt down and settled back in the middle seat.

Pope leaned back in the passenger seat and turned around a little, ignoring Kiara's hissy fit as she leaned out into the wind and thunder. "It's a term from the nineteen hundreds, when there were theatres and operas, the cheapest seats were always the worst. Peanut gallery was a nickname for the cheap seats, where the loudest and rowdiest would sit."

Icarus thought for a moment, and JJ leaned in between them, smirking. "I mean... is he wrong?"

"It's only a peanut gallery if you're here," Pope shot back.

Kiara glared at John B fiercely, hair tussling her hair around her face and framing it all quite dramatically, as if they were in an indie movie. "Promise me nothing's happening between you too."

"Nothing is happening, Kie."

"This isn't about you, and this isn't about us," Kiara insisted, her eyes wide as she flapped her arms around. "This is about her. Dude, she's gonna get inside your head. Just promise me nothing's happening between you guys."

John B blinked once, looking a bit like Captain did when Icarus forgot to feed him, and he'd pull out the whimpers and big brown puppy dog eyes. "I promise?"

"That was really believable," JJ muttered, his head resting on Icarus's shoulder as he peered over at John B. "A hundred percent believable."

Icarus made eye contact with the boy, and raised a single eyebrow, jutting her chin up in question, even though she already knew the answer. John B looked away as Kiara clambered into the driver's seat, muttering to herself. He shook his head stubbornly, and Icarus narrowed her eyes, the same ones he had.

"Anyways, um... I'm gonna take care of business." He gestured to the path leading into the palm trees. A second later, he nodded at her, the tiniest movement everyone else missed. Icarus looked away. He was an idiot.