𝘀𝗲𝗾𝘂𝗲𝗹 𝘁𝗼 '𝗺𝗶𝗿𝗿𝗼𝗿' book 2 of 3
on the outside, looking in, bianca prescott was back to who everyone knew her as- kook princess, island royalty, who couldn't give less of a fuck about the pogues like they were poo on her jimmy choo's.
b...
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They say it's easy to forget your troubles when the weather's warm, the sun is beaming and the waves are crashing on the shore. But all it takes is one fall breeze to blow the cruel reality right back in your face.
Because summer love is fleeting, yes, but everyone can agree on one thing; tans fade, highlights go dark and eventually everyone gets sick of sand in their shoes. But the end of summer is the start of a new season and this fairytale wasn't ending, no, this was just the start of a brand new chapter.
Bianca glanced down at the water below.
Her reflection peered back at her as she leant over the railing of the ferry–– the same sable hair loosely framing her narrow face. The beaming sun hitting the bridge of her small nose at just the right angle and her bare, pouted lips falling into a tight smile that didn't seem to reach her eyes. Her sharp eyebrows and lengthened lashes fluttered oh so innocently, but promised hell for those who dared to gaze into the shallow, dead abyss of her ebony hues.
But that's all it was– a reflection. A haunting shadow looming above the water and if you stuck your hand through, it would haplessly sink into the murky, clouded depths of the ocean. And then it was gone, washed away by the waves lapping the side at of the boat and blurring the remnants of the girl's fractured self.
After the storm had passed, there was a dead calm.
It was almost as if the world had stopped spinning, a deafening silence of white noise that hummed in every conversation, every second, every waking moment of their lives. It was like a constant shadow that lurked in the darkest parts of her mind, a scream trapped inside her soul, but never let out. Every breath felt laboured, like exisiting was exhausting enough.
Bianca tore her unwilling gaze away from the water, a torturous reminder of her best friend, Sarah Cameron and John B Routledge's death. It felt like mere days ago when she was hugging her, warning her to be safe and making meaningless promises to return back to each other.
And now all Bianca felt was loss; big, fat gaping void in her chest waiting to be whole again. Instead, a blackhole formed, sucking all the life and love out of her until all that was left was a dark pool of searing hatred. A hatred that refused to die, simmering beneath her veins and raging rampant through her blood with so much fervour that it never let her rest or sleep or give up. It kept her up at night, tossing and turning, tormented by the same tides that drowned her best friend in the torrent. But despite the relentless chaos within her, it was the only thing that kept her sane through the days staring at the drab, blanched walls of The Recovery Centre with nothing but the haunting memories and regrets that Sarah Cameron left her with.
Bianca inhaled the salty air, goosebumps arising as the breeze whipped at her skin. Seagulls cawed wildly above her, flying in parallel with the boat and soaring above the girl. The engine rumbled softly, drawing her out of her all-consuming thoughts and directed her attention towards the island coming into view.
In the distance, the port bustled with workers clad in highlighted safety-vests and families huddled together to greet their loved ones while other passengers stood beside their luggage, awaiting to board the incoming ferry.
Bianca tucked a loose tendril of hair behind her ear, her dark strands splayed from the windy breeze as she stood at the bow. Her heart beat wildly in her chest, a soft sigh slipping past her lips at the thought of finally returning home.
This year, Bianca Prescott had a lot of work to do. Not academically–– grades and extracurriculars were the last thing on her mind at the moment. No, this work came in the form of a hit list, just not exactly the murder kind. It was an index of every single person involved in and responsible for the deaths of Sarah Elizabeth Cameron and John Booker Routledge.
You see, payment was usually part of a basic transaction. You give and then you take. But in the Outer Banks, people take at their leisure. They take what they want at the expense of the poor, unfortunate souls that fall victim to their manipulations. But they never pay.
They took Sarah from her too and all that rage, and anger and anguish Bianca felt wallowing away in rehab had manifested itself in what she knew best–– revenge. The list sat seemingly innocent in the deep crevices of Bianca's phone–– the Notes app–– because where else do teenagers keep their deepest, darkest secrets nowadays.
Despite, it's name, Bianca didn't actually want to kill anyone. Though, she couldn't deny that the thought had crossed her mind on more than one occasion. But still, the island had seen enough death this summer and she wasn't going to add to the ever growing dead-pool of victims.
Of course, Bianca had some loose ends to tie up first. Namely the Pogues, the Scooby-gang of hooligans she'd befriended, the wild treasure hunt they dragged her into and a certain blond hair, blue eyed boy she was falling for. But as Sarah liked to warn her, whenever something bad happened that wasn't a part of Bianca's plan she liked to act like it didn't exist- like she was in this movie where she had the perfect life but every time Sarah had to remind her that the only one watching was herself.
And JJ Maybank was not a part of that plan–– he was the unforeseen whirlwind that stole her breath away and rooted himself in her heart. But Bianca wouldn't let him distract her anymore and she couldn't give less of a fuck about the Pogues like they were the poo on her Jimmy Choo's. Or so she tried to tell herself.
It seemed that whatever progress Bianca had made in the summer to be a better version of herself had died along with her best friend. Nothing felt worth it anymore, especially feigning being nice to people she couldn't give a shit about. Bianca had reverted to a shell of her past self, not bothering to entertain social niceties and politeness anymore.
It was her way of saying fuck you! to the world–– if it was going to take away Sarah Cameron away from her, then she wasn't going to be the sweet, little do-gooder everyone wanted her so desperately to be. On the outside, looking in, Bianca was back to who everyone knew her as–– Kook princess, island royalty, the same vindictive, vengeful and vain bitch she always was. Because fuck forgiveness and fuck mercy and fuck every single person in the Outer Banks who ever did her dirty because now that Bianca was back home instead of locked up in rehab she was going to ruin every single one of them them herself.
It was fair to say that the Outer Banks had weathered its fair share of storms– heat waves, hurricanes, even earthquakes. When Hurricane Agatha hit at the beginning of summer, the island locals were reeling from the devastation she caused, but a new force of nature was taking shape on the island that none of them could've ever prepared for. And it came in the form of the scorching, cataclysmic wildfire that is Bianca Prescott–– enough to light the way and burn anything attempting to stop her.
Because revenge was sweet, but inflicting it was even sweeter and Bianca was going to take down every single person on that pretty, little list.
author's note. hi baes i missed u guys <3 here's some things u guys can expect from hit list––
2. not waiting 16 chapters for jj and b content hehe (or 55 for a kiss lmfao)
3. jj and b doing couple shit bc i know u guys wanna see that
4. lots of waiting and then lots of chapters, i like writing the entire show and then uploading everything just bc i write faster n better when there's no pressure soo u might have to wait a bit but it's fine bc then you'll get regular updates from meeee
6. bianca being a bitch (so if u like nice/sweet/kind oc's sorry this book isn't for u but if u read mirror then u already knew that lol)
7. literally every a/n telling u that i love u because i do hehe
