Rogue | outer banks

019 - Midsummer

Running my hands down the soft silk material of the red dress, I couldn't help but feel a sense of discomfort. The fabric clung to my body with a tightness that seemed to accentuate the boundaries of the world I had left behind. Freshly manicured nails grazed the surface, adjusting the blonde bouncy curls that now rested just above my shoulders — a hairstyle meticulously crafted by Mrs. Carrera earlier that day.

Kiara's voice cut through the room, punctuating the air with her declaration. "This is disgusting."

I turned my attention towards her, watching as she turned away from the mirror, her gaze a mix of frustration and disdain.

The mirror, a cruel arbiter of self-critique, had been Kiara's audience for the past three minutes. I couldn't blame her; it reflected the clash between the simple Pogue life we cherished and the extravagant costumes we wore for Midsummer's Day.

Midsummer's Day — the mere mention of it sent a shiver down my spine. A day that unfolded in an array of insufferable traditions and expectations, a stark reminder of the life I had left behind as a Kook Princess. Yet, despite my rebellion and the Pogue life I embraced, there were moments when the past resurfaced, dragging me back to the world of fake smiles and pretence.

The weight of the Kook title lingered, an invisible crown that refused to fully dissolve. Midsummer's Day demanded my presence among the well-dressed Kooks, a display of white shirts and light-coloured suits for the men, and an array of vibrant summer dresses, expensive jewellery, flower crowns, and impractical high heels for the women.

It was a parade of privilege and opulence.

I looked at my bestfriend, my head tilting in response to the mischievous grin that adorned my face.

"I know, it's just horrible," Anna remarked as she entered the room, struggling with her earring. Her lack of emotion betrayed the sarcasm in her voice as she stood in front of the smaller mirror, seemingly unfazed by the impending Midsummer festivities. "All I'm asking you to do is relax and go to a fun party," Anna continued, her words a plea for her daughter to shed the resistance that clung to her like a second skin.

"I look like a bourgeois pig," Kiara groaned, her gaze fixed on her reflection.

I couldn't help but tease her further, responding with a teasing acknowledgement, "Yeah, yeah you do."

"Thank you, Lia," Anna retorted, her sarcasm turning into a smile as she acknowledged the shared camaraderie in our banter.

Anna turned her attention back to Kiara, urging her to set aside concerns about socioeconomic injustice for one night. Kiara, however, wasn't easily swayed. Her genuine expression of sadness and disappointment hinted at the internal conflict between her principles and the world she found herself navigating.

I joined the conversation, voicing my agreement with Kiara's concerns. "It is a bit inconsiderate," I offered, earning the familiar glare from Kiara's mum.

Anna redirected her attention to her daughter, "Do you know how hard we had to work to get into the Island Club?" she queried, a mix of nostalgia and determination in her voice.

Kiara sighed in response, a reluctant acknowledgement of the sacrifices made for a semblance of societal acceptance.

"It was so you could have the same experiences that I had as a child," Anna explained, her tone carrying both conviction and a touch of hopelessness. As Anna's palms fell to Kiara's cheeks, I observed the unspoken tension between mother and daughter. "Honey, do you know what the Island Club is?"

Kiara's defiant description of the Island Club as a "factory farm for debutants" hung in the air, a testament to the disparity between their perspectives. The clash of ideals, generational expectations, and the stark reality of the world outside the privileged bubble painted a complex picture.