𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐅𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐃─𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐤𝐬

𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙚𝙩𝙮.

─☼☼☼─

𝙄𝙏 𝙎𝙀𝙀𝙈𝙀𝘿 𝙏𝙃𝘼𝙏 the stars had finally aligned for the Pogues─at least somewhat.

Sarah had managed to get John B out of jail, and as it was, Topper was not pressing charges. Which, considering the beating John B gave him, was a miracle.

And thus, as he Cameron girl and the Routeledge boy returned to the Chateau, it was the first tine all of the Pogues (including Charlotte) had been together for longer than ten minutes since before their little six week stint in the Caribbean. That surely meant a celebration...Pogue style.

The shadow of what was to come was still cast overhead─Big John was still being held captive in South America (to which they were already devising a plan to get him which somehow involved Ward Cameron's private jet), they had still lost the cross, the Carrera girls had their parents breathing down their necks at every moment, along with everything else that came with teenage life. But there was nothing they could do about any of that in the moment, so they partied.

Charlotte and JJ had gotten a considerable head start on the drinking and smoking earlier in the day. The others did their best to keep up, games of beer pong, flip cup, chugging races, and shots had ensued.

Heart-to-hearts were had between the group, but alas everyone began to break off into pairs, leaving Charlotte as what she deemed the seventh wheel.

John B and Sarah were in his bedroom, and it didn't take a genius to figure out what they were up to. Pope and Cleo had gotten awfully close in the kitchen, and JJ and Kiara were in deep discussion on the couch.

Charlotte felt a jolt in her heart at the sight of her sister and JJ, one she couldn't quite explain.

So, as one does when drunk and slightly emotionally distressed, she sent a series of drunk texts to her boyfriend─who she was still immeasurably pissed off at.

After the sixth (maybe seventh) text, her phone lit up with a call.

Grinning to herself, drunkenly pleased with the fact that she still had him wrapped around her finger, Charlotte stepped out onto the side porch, wobbly as she lowered herself onto one of the steps. 

"Hellooooo," She drawled, grin still on her face.

Rafe let out a snort from the other end of the line, music playing in the background of wherever he was, "How drunk are you right now, Lottie?"

Charlotte rose her brows, letting out a huff, "Zero percent. How drunk are you?"

"Bit more than zero percent," Rafe answered, a pause before he spoke, "Need to drown out the fact that my girlfriend ditched me tonight."

"Oh," Charlotte challenged, "Well I'm drowning out the fact that my boyfriend stood me up today."

Rafe muttered something that Charlotte couldn't decipher over the phone. "I told you what happened." He argued, "I was trying to protect you."

Charlotte sighed, leaning her head against the railing. "I know. I know. Always protecting me." She wasn't joking anymore, the tone dropped from her voice.

Rafe was silent for a moment, "Do you want me to come get you?" He questioned.

"No," Charlotte sighed, "You've been drinking."