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   “So,” she breathes, sliding into the seat beside Corey. They always appeared to run into one another at bars, it seemed. But Isla was completely fine with that considering she lived for any place with alcohol. “I know I totally disappeared for a month, and before you say anything, no I could not afford to go to the Bahamas, no matter how much I wanted to.” It was then she turned to a bartender and asked for a whiskey on the rocks.. apparently she’d grown less of an aversion towards it during her trip. “I actually just ended up backpacking through Florida. Boring, I know. And you have no idea how gross it can be couch-hopping at some places. Remind me to never do that again.”

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ROSIE.

               As a Moretti it seemed that was the cross you had to bare with, pain, suffering, never quite reaching that happiness everyone else seem to talk about, or read in books. She had tried, and she had failed miserably. Sure she had manage to reach a life of comfort where there was no more worries if there would be food on her plait the next day, or water to shower, or light at night. But money wasn’t everything, status either, she was learning such lessons as she went. Rosie began to nod with her head for a few seconds before she stepped away from her sister and began to dry her tears with the sleeve of her shirt. “Yeah a drink or two sounds good, it just might be what I need.” She said trying to smile through her pain, somedays it was easier to do, today wasn’t it. “Maybe we could text Sage and she could join us too, we haven’t spent time all together.” She suggested, calming herself with each passing minute, the tears weren’t there anymore, she just had to let her eyes go back to normal and no one would ever know. “I hope I can save the truck, I’m going to hate me if I don’t.” 

       Isla gently smooths the hair out of Rosie’s face before gently cupping the back of her head, trying desperately at the same time to wish away those threatening tears. She wasn’t one for crying, but she couldn’t help her emotions when it came to those she loved, prickles behind her eyes now felt. A soft smile ensues as she nods at her little sister, “You know what? I think that sounds like a perfect idea.” Arm slung around Rosie’s shoulder, Isla glances back at the car, a soft sigh escaping her lips. “Why don’t you shoot her a text, and I’ll call the place I know to come pick up the truck. Okay?” 

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CONNOR.

“Transmission is about as bad as it gets,” he continued, hinting rather ardently that it was rock bottom for all intents and purposes. A lot of people seemed to be hitting that point as of late. “Two grand easy.” And that was with the discount he slung into it without verbally admitting. “For that? No. You’re lucky that the engine didn’t combust. A quick fix wouldn’t solve your issue and I would be the world’s shittiest mechanic if I did anything other than replace the whole part.”

         Not fixing the car wasn’t a possibility considering it was sentimental and what not. Her core was practically shaking right now at the thought of extra costs, which meant she’d have to work twice as hard and miss out on shit she was looking forward to going to. “Two grand,” she breathes, almost exasperatedly, sliding a hand down her face as she fought to process the number in her brain. “Fucking shit. Shit fuck! Fuck my life!” Throwing her head back, she turned and did something of a circle before finally coming back to the blond. “Just.. fix it. Whatever the cost. —Do you take payment plans? I’ll be honest, don’t have two grand straight up.” Not if she and Sage didn’t want to live without electricity, water, and food. 

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I've been down so long it look like up to me They look up to me I got fake people showin' fake love to me Straight up to my face, straight up to my face

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« ♔ starter for @kieranhale »

        “Okay,” she storms in, moving past him the instant he opens the door to make her way toward the kitchen, a route all too familiar to the petite brunette. “So I was thinking we down this bottle of tequila,” it’s then the brunette holds up the brown paper bag containing said tequila as she walks. “Or at least do a few shots, ‘cause we all know tequila’s the shit and will get us fucked up early. Anyway,” as Isla enters the kitchen, she places it atop the counter and turns to face Kieran. “Then I was thinking we hit up a few bars, or a club, and have a wild fucking night. You’ve taken way too long to host another house party, so we’re gonna go find the house party. Sound good?” 

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ABEL.

“My God, I thought the police got rid of you. When the hell did you get out?” Or maybe he just hadn’t been paying attention to her whereabouts. The last he had seen was her being dragged out of that Gala. In his defense though, he didn’t pay much attention to anything anybody ever did unless it pertained to him directly. Well, unless it was Danneel. But that was a different story altogether. “Did you steal a doughnut from a police officer and they just said ‘I’m fucking sick of it’ and arrested you?” @islaxmoretti

       If it wasn’t the frustratingly familiar voice, then it was most certainly the words that spilled from his lips, jaw clenching at the combination. Turning around with narrowed eyes, analysing the guy she immediately thought of as a ‘turd’, Isla couldn’t help but feel the need to play his game, irritation crawling across her skin. “Oh, shit,” the brunette slurred, amusement settling upon her features, bitterness the very undertone to her voice. “And here I thought you were dead from drowning in your own saliva.. can’t forget what it’s like when someone kisses like a fucking cow. Slurp, slurp!” 

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AMBER. 

“Oh, don’t worry. We don’t need any of that around here,” the blonde agreed hastily, yet all in good humor. Isla’s relationship with Jordan had come first between the three of them, Jordan a little more intentional in seeking out the good in the Moretti sister and then Amber hopped on board. Together they were a different bunch - but a genuine one at that. Some of the most precious friendships and relationships she held the closest to her heart. “I want our names out of the press,” Amber whispered into her basket of french fries, tearing one apart and not even bothering to put it anywhere near her mouth. She didn’t usually let the town’s mystery get to her - but today, it was sitting in her stomach wrong. The whole thought of it. “It’s just like they’re gonna keep digging until one of us looks guilty. I can’t have the parents of my class thinking I’m some - murderer.” Letting out another sigh, Amber sipped lazily on her lemonade, her eyes widening at a sudden juicy bit of tea she’d forgotten to share. “Hey uh - did you make it to the festival at all?”

       “Damn straight. Unless they’re talking about how good looking we are, or how our fashunnn is on point,” she grins, sipping on the milkshake situated in her fingertips. Isla loved positive attention; but if she was shed in a negative light, lawd help those who wronged her. “No way? They’re looking at you like that? What for? And no,” she groans, rolling her eyes before shoving another bite of her burger in her mouth. “I had to fucking take on a double shift.” Really, she just needed the money considering the car she now had to pay off. “Did you go?” 

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