DROWN YOUR DEMONS | "i've loved you since we were children, i just didn't realise it until now."
Toby McAllister was just like any other troubled teen. With a sharp toungue and glare that could cut glass, few dared to see past the sarcastic remarks...
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Toby stormed up to the chateau with a scowl. Her previous day was nothing short of exhausting. Fred had sprung to life a few hours after his first fix — restless, hyper and teetering on the edge of recklessness. That was always his mood right before he'd do something stupid and wind up in jail. That was the last thing Toby needed, so she begrudgingly remained home for the rest of day, babysitting her adult father.
The only way she could endure it was if she was as drunk as he was high. So now, she was emotionally exhausted, in debt to a drug dealer, and severely hungover.
Oh, and she had to apologise to her best friend for basically telling him to fuck off.
Toby just knew that her day wasn't going to be a good one.
Her only saving grace was that the chateau was empty when she arrived. John B, ever the idiot, never locked his doors, so Toby let herself in. She didn't venture far, stopping at the porch and sinking into the worn couch. She fumbled through her bag, rolling a joint from the weed Barry had given her to sell. She lit it as soon as it was ready and took a deep inhale, feeling the familiar burn in her lungs, loosening her nerves enough for her to think.
Toby didn't know when John B, who'd no doubt have JJ in tow, would show up. So she only had limited time to figure out how to apologise to the blonde.
The problem? Toby sucked at apologies.
It wasn't something she did often. To her, apologies were mostly pointless; people just repeated the same crap they promised to stop, herself included. And when she did manage to apologise, it was always a disaster — a tangle of babbles, awkward pauses, and stammered words that never came out quite right.
But JJ deserved one, even one of her crappy half-hearted ones. She still stood by what she'd said, but there was a thousand better ways she could have gone about it. Screaming in his face hadn't exactly been her finest moment.
The sound of the twinkie's engine rumbling in the distance jolted her out of her thoughts. Her joint was half finished, and she still hadn't figured out the right words, but it didn't matter now.
She stubbed out the joint with a sigh, pushing herself off the couch just in time to see a frantic JJ and John B skid around the corner. Any attempt at an apology died on the tip of her tongue the moment she saw them.
They looked wild — eyes wide, breaths shallow, adrenaline practically vibrating off them.
