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CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR! . *. ⋆ THE FESTIVAL ⋆ . * .
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Lido Di Camaiore, Italy (Saturday, August 19th, 2023 - 04:00pm)
"shit, shit, shit!"
i bolt upright in bed, my phone slipping out of my hand and landing with a soft thud on the floor. for a split second, i'm confused about why my alarm didn't go off; until i realize with horror that i didn't set it.
the room is in chaos. our family, who, just a few hours ago, was all jokes and calm, is now scrambling like they're late for the apocalypse. lottie is banging on the door to the bathroom, trying to get lewis out, while phoebe, daisy, and ryan are all running around, looking for clothes.
"what time is it?" mackenzie groans, rubbing her eyes as she stumbles out of bed.
"it's four-fucking-pm," i say, my voice cracking with disbelief. "we overslept."
"four?!" louis' voice yells from somewhere down the hall. "how did we sleep that much? we were supposed to be up at two!"
the panic in the air is palpable. this is not what we planned. we were supposed to have a calm and relaxing morning, eat a nice breakfast, and casually make our way to the festival on time. instead, it's pure chaos.
braulio, still half-asleep, wanders into the living room. "are we late?"
"yes, brau, we are extremely late!" lottie shouts, grabbing his arm and pulling him into the kitchen. "where's your stuff? you need to be ready in, like, five minutes!"
braulio blinks, clearly not processing the situation. "what stuff?"
i don't even have time to answer before phoebe grabs my arm. "cam, can you help me find my jacket? i swear i packed it but now it's gone."
"sure, sure, but where did you last—"
"why are we all still talking?" louis storms into the room, fully dressed but clearly stressed out of his mind. "we need to go. now. forget the jackets, we'll buy stuff at the venue if we have to. just move."
"you're the one that told us not to freak out last night," ryan points out, though he's already rushing to gather his things.
"yeah, well, i was wrong," louis mutters. "let's go, let's go."
there's no breakfast, no coffee; nothing. we're just grabbing our bags, scrambling into shoes, and practically tripping over each other as we head for the door.
luca's leaning against the doorframe, shaking his head. "i knew this would happen. we're not even out the door yet, and we're already behind."
"stop being smug and help, luca," lewis says, tossing a hat at him. "we need all hands on deck."
