𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐅𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐃─𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐤𝐬

one hundred one.

─☼☼☼─

─ONE YEAR PRIOR─

"PARTY'S OVER," CHARLOTTE announced, taking drinks from people's hands as she weaved through the house. "Time to go."

She was met with the brazen expressions of drunk teens, none of them at the point where they were ready to go home. But she couldn't have anyone in that house, not when she knew that was about to happen.

"Now," she snapped, raising her voice, noting how it wobbled. "Everyone out!"

Someone cut the music, dozens of pairs of eyes landing on the dishevelled Carrera girl. Her eyes were still red from tears, voice thick and unbalanced.

"What the hell are you doing?" Rafe gritted out, finally having caught up to her.

Charlotte ignored him, gathering up a stack of red solo cups that had been discarded on one of the hallway tables. She sniffled, unable to look at him as people began to file out of the house.

"Don't listen to her!" Rafe called, "She's drunk. Party's not over."

But no one wanted to stick around, not when they could tell that an indescribable tension was brewing between the party hosts.

"Look what you did," Rafe snapped, grabbing onto Charlotte's arm as the house became empty, leaving only them and their ghosts.

Charlotte ignored him again, fresh tears stinging at her eyes as she continued to tidy as she went, trying to reach their bedroom before Rafe had a blowup. If she could just get to bed, she thought, everything would be okay, that he'd sleep on the couch and sober up by morning.

But Rafe followed her, his anger emanating into something almost tangible, as if one could feel it in the air.

"I'm going to bed," Charlotte finally spoke to him, her voice laced with tears no matter how hard she tried to hide it from him. "We'll talk in the morning."

Rafe's hand stopped her as she tried to close the door, shoving it open so harshly Charlotte almost fell backward. "You don't make the fucking rules here, Charlotte."

"Stop," she breathed, utterly defeated and exhausted. "Don't do this right now."

"No," Rafe argued, his eyes wild and nothing like they usually were when they regarded Charlotte. "You want to upend the entire night? Then you can fucking take five minutes to talk to me."

Charlotte turned her back to him, rifling through the drawers for a pair of pajamas. "I've told you, I'm not dealing with you when you're like this."

Rafe dug his fingers into her hips, turning her body so she was facing him, "The words I'm saying now are as honest as they would be tomorrow morning," he sneered, "Maybe even more honest."

Wincing at the grasp he had on her, Charlotte took a step back, raising her chin as she focused her tear-filled eyes on him, "Fine. Let's hear it then, Rafe. What do you want to say to me?"

His nostrils flared, his intoxicated eyes boring into her for a moment as if deciding if he wanted to open the flood gates.