❝Lai, you're really pushing your luck tonight.❞
❝Luck is for the weak, J. I prefer calculated risks.❞
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forget quadratic equations; Laia's equation is more like "Revenge = Fun + Chaos."
armed with sarcasm, a knack for misch...
' You can take your zen vibes and stick 'em where the sun don't shine, lady.'
BLUE VELVET THROUGH.
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"
rock bottom - hailee steinfeld
What are we fighting for?
Seems like we do it just for fun,
In this, this stupid war,
We play hard with our plastic guns.
"
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OUTER BANKS.
3RD PERSON'S POV
With her head swimming in a sea of confusion, Laia stirred from her slumber. Blinking against the dim light of the room, panic surged through her veins like a shot of espresso on an empty stomach. As she stumbled through the haze of disorientation, she realized how her limbs seemed to have joined forces with a helium balloon at a kid's birthday bash, buoyant and bumbling in equal measure.
Memories flooded back like a tidal wave, crashing onto the shores of her consciousness with all the subtlety of a stampede of caffeinated elephants. There it was—the bonfire brawl, the bombshell reveal about Renfield's familial ties to her (cue the melodramatic music), and the heart-wrenching theft of her mother's cherished journals by the so-called uncle.
Guilt nibbled at her conscience like an insatiable mosquito at a barbecue, reminding her of her dramatic exit from the chaos the night before, narrowly avoiding a squishing by a careening sedan.
Then, Rafe arrived on the scene, emerged from said sedan like a cliche savior in a B-movie romance, armed not with a sword but with a steaming cup of tea. That damn tea, Laia thought, as she tried to recall every detail before succumbing to the abyss of unconsciousness the night prior. The beverage now seemed more suspect than a raccoon raiding a garbage can under the cover of darkness.
