𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐈𝐂𝐋𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐄𝐔𝐋𝐀

i. What a Strange, Silly Tapestry!

An old, red, beat-up car pulled through the black iron gates of Shoreside Manor, gravel crunching beneath the threadbare tires.

The manor loomed over them grandly, proud, with its eaves held high. Even with the water-warped planks and bare patches of dead ivy, Shoreside was grand. The purple shutters blinked mysteriously in the wind, wisteria twisting around dark grey planks, dangling into the open spaces of a wraparound porch. A circular princess tower sent rays of sparkling rainbow onto the wild lawn in the front, light refracting through stained glass windows.

"It's perfect," Summer-Lynn --best known as Fitz-- Fitzpatrick beamed, pulling her beanie off her close-cropped hair. She leaned forward in the front seat to look closer at the house. "I love the purple roof."

"It's horrendous," Kiernan Williams said, wrinkling his nose. He stretched his arms, taking up space and shoving Andy Green into the window. They shoved him back, hard.

"Either way, it's a good find," Greyson Sallow said warmly, turning the car off and pocketing the key.

"I don't get why we don't just crash at Grey's place," Rosé LaFey sighed languorously. "It's like, ten minutes away."

"I dunno, crashing at Grey's makes me feel like Jean Valjean in that priest's house," Andy teased over their shoulder, opening the car door. The sun streamed in behind them, filling the car with a warm buttery yellow.

Greyson laughed, pushing open his door too. "Well, you're just as welcome as he."

"I think your grandma would disagree," Kiernan snarked with a grin. "She hates us."

"Correction: she hates you," Rosé preened, sliding from the car, her Louis Vuitton heels hitting the gravel with a satisfying crunch. "Grandmére loves me."

"That's because you're a walking designer handbag," Kiernan rolled his eyes with a grin.

"And what if I am?" she pouted. "I'm still eternally more fabulous than you."

Fitz threw her muscled arms around both of them, ruffling Kiernan's hair. All of the Occupants had learned long ago not to touch Rosé's hair after it was meticulously curled, or suffer the consequences. "Stop bickering, kids. Let's unpack the car."

"Yes Mom," Rosé and Kiernan singsonged in harmony.

At the trunk, Andy and Grey were already unloading their luggage onto the floor.

"Rosé, you have twice the amount of bags Grey does," Andy grunted in her direction, legs buckling under the weight of a shiny, polished trunk. "And Grey has a billion."

"I'm high maintenance, darling," Rosé looped the heavy trunk in her grasp and lifted it effortlessly. Andy gawped at her. "I also go to the gym."

Fitz had a simple duffle bag, which she slung over a shoulder, then picked up Rosé's remaining three bags. She hoisted them into the house, whistling cheerily.

Andy looked at their arms, pretending to make them sag. "I think I need to hit the gym too."

Grey chuckled, tossing them their bag. "Don't worry, Andy. What you lack in strength, you make up for in brains." He tipped his chin to the door.

Fitz and Rosé were bickering at the front entrance, inside the purple porch. Rosé's bag was so large she couldn't get it through. Fitz was instructing her to turn the damn bag but Rosé kept turning it the wrong way. Fitz groaned, leaned forward to help, and got stuck in the doorframe, jammed between Rosé's extra luggage.

Andy clapped a horrified hand over their mouth, then burst out laughing.

Kiernan, eyes glued to his phone, pushed Fitz's back, and both Rosé and Fitz went tumbling through the door, landing flat on their faces. Kiernan stepped over them, still reading whatever article he'd found.