THE PICTURE OF YOU -rafe cameron-

013; the hours leading up to midsummers

When Myra awoke the next day JJ was gone. Her brother had fallen asleep right next to her in the bed out of pure exhaustion, and she hoped that he had gotten to sleep through the night at least. He deserved that after all the chaos he had endured. All the bruising upon his fair skin. She knew JJ often slept either extremely hard or awfully weary. He had done that for as long as she could remember. Even back when they were young children sharing the same bed.

Myra sat up, pushing her messy hair out of her tired face. She felt her back ache slightly, she must've slept funnily. Now the air was warm and humid and the house was quiet around her. She walked out of the room only to find her father laid asleep on the living room couch, empty bottles and cans left on the coffee table. He had drank himself into a sound sleep, yet again. It wasn't a surprise, she had heard the clinking of bottles yesterday. She left him be, getting dressed before she headed out. She didn't have an exact plan, nor did she know where her brother had gone, but she just needed to get out of the house for a while. The energy clinging to the walls was just a little too much for her right now.

Myra walked through the island centre, her hands on the straps of her small backpack. She gazed around, seeing people moving around and hearing children laugh with their parents. It was a hot summer day. Her hair blew in the light breeze, calming her down ever so slightly. It had been a hauntingly long evening and night, she still wasn't completely recovered from it. Nights like these happen every now and then with their dad, he gets like that. He looses control. Things are said and punches are thrown. She was used to it by now, having experienced it since she was a young kid, yet it always somehow shook her to her core. The shakes and trembles stayed with her for another day or so, making her a little extra jumpy and some would say moody. Down in the dumps, anyway. Jittery nerves or whatever. Nothing new, nevertheless still not great.

Myra turned a corner, her backpack bouncing gently against her back as she walked up to a small convenience store. She needed to get a bottle of water, the hot sun was slowly draining her and she needed to stay alert. She had a shift later on, a late night one. The oh so nice kooks from the island club are having their annual midsummers event in the evening, something she had dreaded for weeks. A event of such calibre came with all of figure eight's worst kooks in various ages dressed in their nicest suits and dresses while inevitable complaining about something. It came with waitressing, loud music, stupid speeches and snarky scoffs. It came with people not looking where they're going as she tries to maneuver the crowded floor with a tray of nice glasses of expensive champagne, or wine or whisky perhaps. It came with blingy diamond earrings and expensive gold watches. It was a summer highlight for all the kooks but a tricky nightmare for her, the pouge girl lost within the luxury which she could never have. The only good thing was that she got to see Pope and his father and work alongside her older brother.

As the blonde haired pouge girl was about to walk into the convenience store to buy herself the cheapest bottle of water that she could find, she bumped into someone. Rafe Cameron again, of course. It was always him, everywhere. She sighed as she looked up, seeing him tower before her in the small doorway. He glanced down at her, a pair of RayBan sunglasses covering his blue eyes. He remained still for a moment, a bottle of water in his right hand. "Hey, look who it is, the front desk girl" he spoke a little amused, lifting his sunglasses from the bridge of his nose, pulling them up to rest on his head. "Hey" she muttered back shortly, avoiding his eye contact as she tried to push past him to get into the store. "We've got to stop meeting like this" the tall boy then urged funnily, purposefully blocking the doorway as his gaze danced over her small frame. She sighed with annoyance, gazing up at him as she put her hands on her hips. "Then you've simply got to stop following me around... and there you go, problem solved" she uttered bitterly, to which he laughed cockily.