Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Carmen carreras entire life was built on the everlasting promise of perfectly wrapped lies—the lies of a comfortable, happy, healthy life of a kook; the lies of carmen and blake's picture perfect, storybook tale of a love story pushing through societal pressures and downcasted glares.
but with pretty lies comes the inevitable ugly truths — being a kook isn't always what it's cracked up to be, and carmen and blake's story was anything but one of love.
this much is made true as blake's eyes darken and pierce through carmen's own, just as stone as the boy in front of her. his efforts of coming off as menacing are futile as carmen has had just about enough of his abusive ways and cunning ability to lie his way out of them. but of course, both carmen and blake knew all too well that her claims of the end of their relationship were just that—claims.
but still, this fact doesn't matter as carmen remains standing tall, willing herself not to flinch as blake closes the already tight distance between them.
he laughs dryly, "go right ahead, carmen. you really think they're gonna believe you? intoxicated, wearing your sluttiest bikini. you were all over me, you don't remember a thing, you have no idea what you're talking about or what actually happened." blake smiles sinisterly, "that's just some of things that i'll tell them, and you and i both know who they'll believe."
carmen hated to admit it, but she knew he was right—he always was.
"go to hell, blake." she spat, turning on her heels. blake lunges forward, grasping tightly onto a strand of curls and yanking harshly. carmen squeals, immediately reaching for her hair, "let me fucking go!"
he spins her around, gripping her jaw so tightly carmen is sure she'll be sporting a bruise in the shape of fingerprints soon enough. "you're not gonna tell anyone shit, got that?"
"no." carmen smiles, proudly sending spit dotting across his face like little white freckles. "i'll tell whoever, whateveri want, got that?"
blake snarls, dropping his hand briefly before rearing back and smacking carmen harshly across the face. she crumples to the dirt under impact, crying out. he advances once more, sending a sharp kick into the younger girls ribs before spatting onto her himself, "good luck with that, carmen."
"hey!" a familiar voice cries out, footsteps sounding as the newcomer rushes across the dirt. "leave her the hell alone!"
"you can have her, man." blake holds up both palms, backing away to rejoin rafe and topper out on the main course.
the new voice comes into view, proving to belong to none other than pope heyward, one out of three of kiara's closest friends. "jesus, carmen!" he gasps, rushing to help the girl to her feet.
once upright, the youngest carrera is quick to break free of his hold. "pope, you can't tell kiara. promise me you won't tell her."
