𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐝𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬. - 𝐛𝐨𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐥

𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞

hi! i was in the hospital bc of stuff but im back now! pls eat safe foods- food poisoning is no joke TT

the week was filled with joy and laughter as the festival continued in full swing. some city folks even came to visit since the town is currently being popularized due to the fields of flowers that are blossoming. it was a sight to see, really.

and although boothill wasn't keen on mingling with foreigners, he too enjoyed his fair share of fun with his buddies (if you call winning the rodeo four times that week fun because you may have tampered with the other bulls then sure).

it was the evening of sunday, the last day of the week and the closing day for the festival. a lot of foreigners have already gone back to the city, and most locals were resting from the week's worth of celebration. tonight was meant for the youth to enjoy, as games and pubs were open until dawn.

as expected from the cowboy, he and his friends were first in line at the local pub- claiming that this would be the only time they get to drink imported ale without fighting some elders who'd always claim it as theirs to drink. the thought of a certain (h/c) haired girl slipped his mind for the past few days, considering that he rarely crossed paths with her nor does he even notice her presence due to his brooding that one time when a foreigner won the prize he wanted to get for a kid.

it's safe to say that the week was fulfilling and ultimately relaxing, taking his mind off of things and especially work. not like he needed a break anyways since he's the one who declares when he's going to work (which, mind you, is twice a month at most).

the pub was bustling with men and women alike, with gamblers in their little corners constantly cheering or yelling out of frustration when they realize they bet away their savings for the next week. the smell of beer and sweet wine floated around the small place, tempting those who pass by to have a sip of their popular moonshine or wine that's been kept since last year's festival.

it was rowdy- but it's nothing that he isn't used to. matter of fact, he felt happy to see everyone enjoying themselves without a care for the world. he loves seeing the old men lose their game of poker, loves seeing their wives scold them- and most importantly, he's itching for a fight from whoever gets drunk and decides to cause a scene in this quaint establishment.

amidst the chatter and ruckus going on around him, the dual hair-colored male was focused on the current conversation at hand- listening to his friend rant about his now ex-girlfriend who left him for some city boy.

"i'm tellin y'all right now- might as well dig our own graves. ain't no lady would settle for us 'country bumpkins'. stupid, no good shitty boys, thinkin' that they're better than us with them cars and gadgets." his friend, john, ranted- taking a swig from his fourth pint as his speech started to slur by the minute.

"ain't my problem. me and ma girl are boutta have our second anniversary."

"maybe ya just ugly?"

a chuckle escaped his lips as he dodged the flying bottle of rum, tipping his hat to the unfortunate patron behind him who got hit instead.

he'll never grow tired at just how sensitive his friend is- given that he just got replaced, but this was the third girl who chose a different man over him, he should've just given up at this point (his words, not mine).

with a clumsy arm slung around boothill's shoulders, john leaned on him for support while wallowing in his sorrows.

"them beauregards' have a city girl for a granddaughter right? ya folks think she'll give me a chance?" this caught his full attention, setting his pint down as he glanced at his friend with a brow raised.