Haha oh god the things I find in my drafts what even wow. Hints of Clary's/that one I took partial possession of layout. She'll see this probs anyway so not going to tag her. Ah, I'm annoying. Also I got my first ever top set. It's not even a good one lol. But I'm not complaining :)
I feel like writing a fluffy love story for Coco and also rubbing some stuff in @sophiaspastic's face after the whole death ordeal (but seriously woah amazing story- that goes to @naughtynina too!), So yeah. I'm not sure how this story will go yet but... Slutt-y clubwear definitely leads to certain things. Just a warning. Probs not explicit but who knows cause I'm a hormonal teenager (and a dork apparently)
This story is technically not a day early because it is currently 2:16 am on June 21 in Montreal. Just putting that out there.
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Thursday, June 21st; Make sure to you give Ashley Burke an extra special thank you. He managed to get us insanely cheap fake i.ds so we can sneak into “Neon,” a club on the outskirts of town. So girls throw on those embarrassingly sl-tty outfits and leave your shame in your hotel room. Tonight we’re going wild.
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If you don't like gory descriptions skip down to the part that says SIX HOURS LATER, trust me.
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Blood. It coated my body, oozing from scratches and pooling under my skin in sickly purple bruises. My left arm lay under me, twisted at a bizarre angle, and my chest burned when I emptied my lungs. I closed my eyes, wishing to unwind the very fabric of reality and obliterate this moment. My body had erupted into flames of pain, and a low gurgle rose up in my throat. I was going to choke on my own blood. This would be what killed me.
I somehow managed to lift my head and empty my mouth, the thick red splattering the grass, making me gag and fall back to my place, a dizzy feeling filling my head. I lifted my working hand to my chest, clutching my rosary, wishing there was a god, begging him desperately to save me. At my side there was a low moan and string of yelps as the boy I had been clutching… hours ago? minutes? I had lost all semblance of time. I could hear his labored breathing as he lifted himself up. I couldn’t see him, but I could feel him. I felt helpless.
“Iain? Are you… hurt?” The words sounded so strange in my mouth. I coughed violently, another gurgle of blood stopping me. He had crawled toward me on hands and knees, and he looked unblemished, aside from the cuts dotting his chest. I sighed in relief, but his own panic mounted. “Oh my god, what... Are you okay? Oh god, oh god, oh god.” He repeated the phrase, in apparent shock and I struggled to lift my head again. “The other person?” My voice was a weak whisper. I closed my eyes. Had living always hurt so much?
His eyes were wide and set on me. “I’ll go check. Don’t you dare move.” I started to nod before realizing that it went against his orders. Giving up on the orders, I turned my head towards where he was going, toward the other driver. A flare had risen up from one of the motorcycles, and the entire machine burst into flame. I could see the body from where I lay, crumpled, a cast aside little dolly. The driver’s hand flopped out by his side, seemingly separate from the rest of his body. I blinked. It was still attached. I had begun to hallucinate. In my field of vision something on his arm twitched.
A leather gloved hand. I had seen that hand before. Only the last time it had been closed around Ivy's throat as she begged for her life in my dreams. My vision clouded and then the world was black.
6 HOURS EARLIER
“Fuck yeah!” The cheer rose up the moment the club was in view. I lay back in my seat, rubbing my temples. I couldn’t breathe, or speak, or move. I was paralyzed. I was, it seemed, in limbo, torn between The Monster and myself. I had let someone in at a dangerous time and I was suffering for it. She had an innocent face, Alisa. But it had quickly become apparent there was more to her. A murder. And my need. And what was worse, my precious Chantal had been caught up in it all. I felt ready for a murderous rampage, and yet I was bound to my plush leather seat.
The other girls piled out of the car quickly, eager to drown their worries, but I remained, clutching at the seat for my life, unable to comprehend a single thought. I closed my eyes. Chantal appeared without warning in my mind. She dropped to her knees, gasping and choking, clutching at her neck as her eyes bulged and rolled back in her head and her skin turned blue. She took a final, shuddering breath and then dissolved into nothing but a hazy outline. And then, out of nowhere, the whisper of her voice reverberated everywhere. "Ezra? Coco, please." The sound of her begging sent the shivers racing down my spine. I jerked off the seat in a cold sweat.
(At this point my sentences will become terse and to the point as they are Coco’s thoughts and she is in a certain kind of high at this moment. You could call this a warning or you could call it Annabelle trying to explain her shitty story)
It was the dream. Only this time Tally was the victim. I leaned forward, gagging. The Monster took full control. I looked up into the rearview mirror with a smirk, my eyes widened and my pupils huge. I was ready to go in. I pushed the car door open and catwalked to the entrance, not even being required to show id. I blew kisses to the bouncers and sauntered straight to the bar, grabbing someone’s drink and tipping my head back. A rush filled my body. I giggled. I laughed, loud, uncontrollably. The stranger at the bar, the one whose drink I had stolen caught my elbow.
“Miss Kingsley, are you alright?” “Coco, are you okay?” They were two voices at the same time, and I batted them both off. Dylan, sweet darling Dylan had pursed her lips, worrying. For me. The elbow grabber was familiar. I waggled my fingers at him in a mock salute. His name was… Iain. He was the coroner. I suddenly felt stone cold sober. “I’m fine Dylan, go away.” I snapped.
She turned to Ingrid, and they headed off. Ingrid glanced back over her shoulder, tossing me a self-righteous smirk, as if she hadn’t been the drunken one many many times. B-tch. They headed for Chantal, murmuring in low voices to her, casting looks in my direction. I sat down next to Iain. She looked lovesick and lost without Ezra. Without warning I leaned my head on Iain’s shoulder. He looked confused. “Are you okay?” I nodded, putting my fingers up to his lips to silence him. They were soft and gentle, angel lips. He caught my hand and we stared for a long beat.
And then we were kissing. I slid into his lap, the two of us barely supported by the bar stool. It was the sweetest kiss I’d ever had. When we broke apart I gazed down at him, his hands on my hips, holding me close, my fingers in his hair. He tilted his head to the side slightly, gazing back at me with his vividly blue eyes. “I got your text.” He murmured, and I must have looked confused because he elaborated. “You had a report for me to see?”
I slid from his lap, the blood suddenly rushing to my head. It was in my bag, dutifully on my shoulder, and I pulled it free, the copy paper bright and white. I could still hear the click of the beach house printer late last night, after the party had concluded. I passed it to him. One perfect eyebrow rose. “What is this, how did you...” I cut him off with a look. He nodded reassuringly and read through it. It seemed to take hours and I turned away to make conversation with another girl at the bar. Ara. She was a friend of Chantal.
Even thinking of Tally made me upset, but I talked to her anyway. She was slightly intoxicated, and we both giggled over the bartender’s jokes as Iain read on. Suddenly Ara hopped off her stool without second though, pulling me with her, out onto the dance floor. Space cleared for us, and we began to do what was at least some form of dancing at a frenetic pace. I got caught up in the lights and beats and her beautiful footwork. I barely noticed Iain’s hand on my shoulder, until he turned me to face him. I swallowed hard, following him outside, passing Alexa, another girl I knew.
She was smoking and called out a few lewd remarks, drunk, I’m sure, before reminding us to “Not leave such an awesome club party!!!” Iain gripped my hand tighter, pulling me around a corner, and then to the ground. We were both on our knees, staring at each other, waiting for him to speak. He did, soon enough. “Is this a murder autopsy?” I hesitated, and he added to his question. “And don’t you dare lie to me, I read what I read.”
“Which was?” I interrupted, and he sighed, stroking my cheek and swallowing hard. “Someone was trying really hard to kill this girl. There was evidence of long term slow arsenic poisoning in addition to what I’m sure you know from the summary.” My heart dropped. Who was so desperate to kill her? I couldn’t breathe and Iain scooped me up into his arms, stopping my fear with a slow kiss. “You’re safe, Coco, I won’t let anyone hurt you.” I closed my eyes and nodded.
Less than four hours later we would be lying on the road, bleeding out.
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(type 'WHAT'S GOING TO HAPPEN NEXT' if you read it all)