ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ᴏɴᴇ : ᴏᴠᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ᴏᴠᴇʀ ᴀɢᴀɪɴ.
ALL CHAPTERS <-
PROLOGUE <- (click here!!)
Rafe Cameron x fem!poguereader.
Summary: In which Reader has gone missing, and the only thing left is the memories she left behind of her secret relationship with Rafe. Through her collection of Polaroids and the whispered words around town. The pogues must find out what really happened the day she went missing.
And if differences can be put behind them for the better between the kooks and pogues forever.
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~Currently playing, "Can I Call You Tonight?" By Dayglow~
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A YEAR AND TWO MONTHS BEFORE THE INCIDENT.. (reader pov)
The summer heat was boiling down and over this Summer, the Pogues and I sat near the Boneyard, my legs swung off and over the ledge of the deck of the house that was currently under construction. If it wasn't so hot I would have stood up and ran towards the ocean waves with sand in my hair and my surfboard in hand. But getting off of this piping hot deck knowing my thigh meat would peel off it with a stinging feeling, I sat still.
The boys were currently out chasing down the tides, Kiara sat next to me waxing her board. My board was currently in the shop, after a minor incident with my body being flung into the rocks and my board having been tied to me, it got the surface blow instead of my body. Although, the nasty bruise forming on my thigh was not looking too pretty.
Kies wax was piling up on her hands the more she made friction with her board, I let out a snicker, "With that much wax, you're going to be stuck to the damn board, Kie." she looked up at me from her crouched down position next to me, "I mean, better safe than sorry, right?"
"Right, because getting ready to surf before a storm is so safe." I ran a hand through my curls, thankfully the frizz of being outside in the humidity for a petrifyingly long time hadn’t yet made my hair blow up like a circuit. I heard her voice thrum again,
"I mean, better waves, more fun. You have no room to talk, you can't even surf let alone body surf with those nasty bruises." her laugh echoed throughout the renovated home.
My tongue clicked and I could feel my eyes roll, "Oh leave it, you have to go to a kooky party this week so, you tell me who's unluckier." Midsummers was of course this week, the week where we were supposed to continue this big treasure hunt.
Midsummers, along with the annual bonfire, are both the two biggest parties of the year. Except one is more prestige and the other is more about shot gunning a beer upside down. Midsummers being first on the list was never a pleasure and Kiara hated the concept. Being stuffed in an area packed with security, rich assholes and bitchy parents that remind you how grateful you should be for the experience—gave Kie quite the bitching spree afterwards.
Not like I blame her anyways, the whole concept is just to make fancy business deals, and for each and every married couple there to experience being a swinger. Except for the Camerons, they're too good for that kind of thing.
Speaking of the Camerons...
"Hey, isn't Pope and JJ supposed to be out doing deliveries for Heyward in Figure eight today?" I asked.
Kie wiped off her hands and sat the wax stick down, "Yeah, I think so actually." she looked towards the view of the ocean and the boys coming over to us, "We best remind them. Wouldn't want Heyward putting Pope down on lockdown again."
I bit my lip and let out a breath, the beaming sunlight making my vision squint, but regardless, I wanted to bring it up anyways. I sensed Kie and I were on the same page. "Do you really think that this whole treasure thing is real, Like, it all ties back to John B's dad? I know grief comes in all different forms. But a treasure hunt?" It just seemed too good to be true. Yeah, full kook, whatever you want to call it. I knew John B's dad back during freshman year, when I first stayed over at the Chateau.
He rarely came out of his office but when he did, he treated every single one of us like his own.
"I don't know. I mean, we found the merchant, but no gold, and by the way those men came after John B about the compass, somethings got to be out there. Tied to his dad being alive or not. After Scooters death, it's like everything tied back to that." And I knew she was right. She put it in ways that I couldn't comprehend with my own mouth. "Yeah, I get that."
By the time the conversation had ended, Pope, JJ and John B had returned to the porch, John B shook off his hair like he was some kind of wild mutt after a dirty mud bath,
"Jesus, can you do that somewhere else—" I grumbled. The water flying from his hair was practically soaking my clothes. If he kept it up it's going to look like I decided to take a dive with clothes on. He smirked back at me,
"No can do. Besides I need to be dry when I get to the Chateau. Need to check if the powers back on." He replied smugly.
I sniffed the air and grimaced, John B obviously forgot to turn the water on in his house too. Or maybe his uncle had forgotten to pay it. Either way… “You also are in need of a shower." He shot me a glare and I erupted in soft laughter. He did smell like wet dog; sorry I was honest. Pope looked over at us, Kiara must have reminded him about his job with Heyward.
"Yeah, JJ and I need to get the boat, I forgot about the deliveries my Pops needed me to do." He added on
JJ although looked occupied into arguing with Kiara to get her to wax his board while she was waxing her own. Lazy as always…
Seemed like everyone had places to be, Including me.
I had to pay Barry a visit. Ever since my parents left for Charleston, Barry had been coming over more often. Since well, for one, he made good money, and two, my parents didn't have any idea what kind of stuff he was selling. Hell, my parents didn't even know Barry was staying at the house.
I met Barry back when I was thirteen, my parents had just moved here from NYC to pursue the "small town dream" as they would say. He helped my dad's truck get back into service after breaking down on the side of the freeway. My mom had made me get out the car and help him with all the tools, we ended up just talking to each other, he asked me how I ended up on the side of the cut, told me about the whole Kooks vs. Pogues BS and I just asked him about life here. Discovered he was a coke head later on when he snorted a line on my dad's toolbox. I didn't mind, growing up in NYC, drugs had been normalcy there. My hum of thoughts were interrupted then.
Kiara sighed, "I have to go dress shopping today, wish me luck. Let's hope my mom doesn't choke me with a flower crown."
I pulled some hair being my ear as the wind blew through my polaroid camera sat next to me. My goal this summer was to take as many photos as I could so I could add them to album and keep it somewhat in the friend group for memories. I should preferably start soon.
Speaking of, I reached over grabbing the box-shaped camera. "Hey guys, pose for me!!.." I spoke aiming the shot perfectly. JJ and pope quickly slid on their shirts, muttering something about post-surf injuries and John B crept into frame with enthusiasm. The four looked lazy with their tired smiles but quickly decided to do a more exciting expression and recoiled into a group photo.
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By the time I closed down the shop and walked home, Barry was already crashed out on my couch seemingly making angry phone calls. I ignored the falling and cluttering in the living room. I wonder what's got him so worked up now. He's 24-years-old for god's sake. Walking back to my room, I sat down the camera and pictures I had taken, setting them down in my desk drawers.
The only room in the house Barry wasn't allowed in was my room. Solely because I had cash stashed away in a safe and I did not need his grubby hands rubbing all over it.
Barry yelled into his phone from the other room, “Yeah well fuck you, Chris! I want my fucking money soon. You're not the only one getting their ass called back today. It's like I'm getting used left and right down here! Don’t fucking make me go down there. if I don't see cash in this damn hand by the end of the week you’ll wish you weren’t such a money laundering asshole." Barry swiftly hung up on the client before slamming the phone down making a smack noise against the glass table.
"What got your panties in a twist?" I walked over, plopping down next to him on the plush sofa cushions. He took his hair out of the loosely tied man bun, his hair a mess as always. He never really cared to clean up. If anyone was laundering it was him, off of me.
"People aren't getting money back to me on time, that's the twist."
"Then maybe stop selling to drug addicts who use all the stuff you give them before they pay you." It wasn't like I was lying, Barry always sold to rich Kooks and lazy Pogues who could give a shit less about when business was due. It was always half now, then the rest later. Like an expiring 7 day free trial.
"That's just where the business is, poguie." he sniffed dryly, "Actually in terms of business, I have to pay one lucky fucker a visit today." He laughed standing up with an aggressive precision.
"Yeah, who might that be?" I popped the cork off my wine, pouring myself a glass. "Also did you get the new package? We just got sold a new art piece and it is quite the stunner." I sipped down the dark liquid, it stained my lips and seeped down my throat.
He nodded and grabbed the bottle taking a swig of it. Fresh and raw from the opening. Disgusting, His saliva all over my bottle!! I snatched it away, "Get a glass, I don't want your nasty germs all up on my drink, you alcoholic." I pulled the bottle out of his reach, some of the liquid in his mouth dripping down his chin like he ate a fresh fruit. Shooting me a glare he spoke, "Whatever. I need to borrow your pops truck. Rafe Camerons got my money, and I got a bunch of ones and strip clubs waiting are on me." He wiped his mouth.
"Yeah, well just don't bring any of them home—wait, Rafe's dealing again? He's on coke again?" I didn't care for Rafe, hell I rarely talked to him anymore, when I did see him or have an encounter with him, he would just give me a disdaining look. Like I did something wrong. It's not my fault he's an asshole now. He was sweet maybe back in like the 8th grade but now? He couldn't hate my guts more.
The only reason I gave a shit about Rafe doing coke is because it caused a big traction last year at the boneyard, when he was dealing to everyone and accidentally gave Kelce more than a gram of coke sending him into an anaphylactic seizure. It was a huge freak out, sent the local news into an orbit. Not to mention Rafe wouldn't talk to Kelce for weeks because apparently it was Kelce's "own damn fault." That was the last day I ever spoke to him. I mean, it was the first time in years I had spoken to him, but I made sure of it to be the last time.
Pogues saw that I knew him that night, saw that I was talking to him, it was the start to a fate Pope was trying to dig me out of, and I knew I had to end it.
Barry gave me a deadpanned expression before continuing on, "Yes, even with all the incidents last year and stuff, he still buys and deals. It's just who he is." It was like he had read my mind. What a complete idiot Rafe was. “Anyways, I’m gonna need the truck.”
"You can't take the truck" I say, mainly because it was Barry, and his road rage was insufferable. "Where's your bike?"
"In the shop, tire got blown while I was off-roading."
"How about the Beater?"
"Left that back at my place. So, unless you want to drive all the way up to the butt crack of the cut, I need the truck." Barry repeats. Inwardly, I literally could feel the boiling depths of my anxiety that he would go off the hinges and crash the entire thing.
I didn't feel like necessarily seeing Rafe, but I also didn't feel like having no way of travel for the rest of summer. "I'm driving. You'll drive it into a telephone pole if I let you go." I grabbed the keys off from the kitchen counter, the metal scraping slightly on the marble. Suddenly I saw Barry grab something slick and metal. Heavy.
Barry grabbed his gun under the coffee and hoisted it in the back of his cargo shorts. Barry was an idiot just like his clients. He did not need to bring any of that. Especially to a freaking place like figure eight. "Hey, no. Leave that here, are you an idiot? These rich folk will have you in handcuffs before you even pull it out. Leave the heat here." I pleaded with him.
He tried to push past me into the foyer, "You never know. I could have a run-in at any time." I grabbed the gun from out of his pants he didn't resist surprisingly, "We'll only be out for a short amount of time and half of that time will be in the car. So just get your money and get out." I stuffed his gun back in his old duffle bag, stuffing it under the couch.
I stumbled back over, I wanted to make this as quick as possible. "Now come on, I have to meet Kiara later and help out with waiting tables."
I walk out the house, Barry followed close behind me, making sure the house was properly locked up before settling in the passenger seat. I turned the keys in the ignition, the truck slowly waking up, "Connect my phone to the Bluetooth." I asked before sitting my phone on the center console, Barry then reached over and grabbed it, typing in my password.
Down to Kookville we go.
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~Currently playing from readers phone, “Let Go” By Ark Patrol and Veronika Redd~
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The sun was beginning to set over the horizon, Tanneyhill slowly crept into view its large porch and lawn screaming Kildare Royals. I would rather be anywhere but here. I turned into the lanky driveway, my palms already sweating and clammy against the wheel.
Barry told me previously that I wouldn't need to get out of the car for anything, that he'll be quick. I had to be at least lucky enough not to come across the Cameron siblings. The only one that was relatively nice to me was Wheezie and that's because she's the only one that doesn't know what happened between us. What happened during freshman year, at Midsummers—
"Hey! Hello!? I'm talking to you, Poguie!" I quickly snapped out of it at the raising of Barrys voice.
It was just then I realized I had yet to stop the car and was getting dangerously close to crashing right into their garden area. I slammed on the break, the truck coming to a screeching halt.
Barry and his seatbelt locked immediately from the force of the vehicles break. I could practically hear Barrys heart beating out his chest from here. "Are you crazy?! I came here to get money, not get sued for it!" He yelled. I parked the car near the side door of the big pearly house my chest was heaving. I was barely focusing on the long whispers of curses and accusations running out from Barrys mouth.
I need to get my head out of the past and back to the present.
"And you tell me not to drive, crazy woman." He groaned and unbuckled, "I'll be right back, stay here like I said, would you?" He slammed the door shut, his nerves already on edge from a near death experience. Well, not really but knowing how dramatic he is he would call it that.
Midsummers, Rafe, Sarah, the Pogues, the lies, secrets, Kiara—
Stop it, right now. That was freshman year, you're different now. All of it is different now. Everything. I swallowed down all the thoughts, all the memories and laid my head against the steering wheel in this silent, cursed car.
The reason why Rafe and Sarah are so distant was because of me and I knew that. I covered my face, my palms pressing into my cheeks. I knew it more than anyone in this town. Rafe blamed his dad partly, for all the favoritism that had been going on since forever. Sarah per usual blamed me. Siblings can be distant, but the Cameron siblings are a whole other level of distant.
All because of me, me, me, me.
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FLASHBACK
My knees were dripping blood from the fall of concrete. Dirt stinging and seeping into the small scrapes. I ignored it, I just had to make it to Kies house. The view from the street was dark, slippery and full of puddles.
She was the only one that would understand. That would keep it a secret. That wouldn't hate me. I was nearly out of breath, the cold night air making my heart hurt more than it already did. My heels dangled from my fingertips, running barefoot never felt any less painful. But the rubble and pavement didn't make me pause in running any time soon.
Get to Kiaras, get everything cleared up, go back to normal.
The more I ran, the farther the truth was behind me. The more I thought about the truth, the more I realized I couldn't escape it. I gasped for air and by the time my body had tripped and fallen on her doorstep it was starting to eat at me, trying to hold it all together before even opening my mouth was becoming insufferable. Like I was burning alive before the fire even came.
A sob I tried to keep in wracked from my throat, my expression twisting.
It was pouring outside, my dress was ripped and dirty, stained with blood and pool water. I desperately wiped my tears, dirt embedded in my fingernails. The door opened before I rang the doorbell. I couldn't bring myself to look. I just hoped it was Kie.
"Y/n? W-What are you doing out here? Where are your parents?" My shoulders fell limp when I recognized the voice as her mother, but she kneeled down next to me and held me up regardless. Steps followed her outside and her voice rang out to the other person.. Kiara’s dad?.. A distant plea to my ears. “Get Kiara, honey. Please—“I heard her speaking to Kiaras dad, but everything just felt so blocked out. Numb.
Numb like how he left me.
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𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄 (well basically still in the past but like you get what I mean)
My head snapped up at the disruptive roar of a motorcycle barreling right past me. I opened door, hopping down from the driver's seat. On the motorcycle halfway down the lot was—Barry?! What the hell happened? Drug deal gone wrong? There is no way he just left me here at this freaking house. He knows I hate this place. I hate when he storms off like this. He isn't some little kid available to throw a tantrum at any time.
But the bright red bike he's on, that's Rafe's bike. His new one he got after the hurricane. I remember it clearly because he swerved on it after the storm and ran wet mud up from the ground and splattered it all over John B's clothes. Freaking Maniac—There was a rustle behind me, before a low pained cry came through "Agh.. Fuck." I froze.
Speak of the fucking devil.
I immediately tensed up, the sound of his voice sending a shrill of dread to the pits of my stomach. Damnit Barry, why did you have to lure me out here. Scratch that why did I even get out of the truck?! I was almost debating on running back to the car but the pain in his voice made me turn around. His body swaying on the pavement.
He was shaking on the ground, holding his forearm, teeth gritted together and pain evident in his expression. He whipped his head back, leaning it against the potted plant behind him. There was a burn mark about the size of a dollar bill below his wrist. Must have been Barrys doing. He always told me there was small consequences after missing a payment and big ones. This must've been his idea of a small consequences and on top of that he stole his fucking bike.
It was already starting to welt up, turning an angry pink.
I stared down at him on the ground, I almost wanted to speak, almost. But it was like the words wouldn't fall out of me like they used too.
I didn't want to see him here; I didn't want to see him anywhere.
But now here I am, walking towards the cooler sitting next to him, there was spilled coke on the sidewalk. It's white powder flowing throughout the yard like a disease. I reached down and grabbed a cold beer out of the freezer box. The ice was almost melted anyways. It should help stop the pain if he didn't drink it and used the coldness to his advantage.
I didn't touch him, I didn't say anything. I just held out the drink in my hand.
It felt like it was all in slow-mo. Seeing his eyes go wide in alarm by the time he looks up, I looked away. I didn't need to see all the resentment his gaze held. By now I knew it was too much to handle for my mind anyways.
"What the hell are you doing here?" There was a tremble in his voice, his blue eyes looking like a raging ocean, the eye of a hurricane. I missed staring at them sometimes. I swallowed the lump forming in my throat, nearly not hearing my own voice as my own, "put this on your burn. It's cold enough to soothe it."
Rafes eyes flickered to the beer dismissively as he shook her head a snark escaping him, "I didn't fucking ask for that I asked why you're here." his tone never changed for me. Still as sharp as ever.
I tried to keep my eyes off of him. Even though his voice ran memories through every part of me that I wanted to keep hidden. I mustered up the voice I had left, "Because Barry wanted me to drive him here, said you were late on a payment." I hid the shakiness in my voice. "Take the damn drink, Rafe. It's just going to get worse."
He stood, his body practically towering over mine, breathless nights filled my vision. Rafes body was almost as shaky as my voice. I wondered if it was from the drugs or maybe just maybe it was me.. “I'm not taking anything from you. Not after all the shit you cause." I practically just shoved the drink in his hand. I was so tired of him constantly holding a grudge and constantly treating me like shit.
What happened back then.. I tried to convince myself it wasn’t my fault. But, whether he wanted to believe that or not isn't my issue anymore, "I may have been a shitty person back then, but I'm not one now. You best clean up before your dad gets home. There's coke all over the yard."
I heard the crack against the aluminum of the can, saw the way his knuckles grew white the more he gripped onto it and the more he scanned over me.
And If looks could kill, Rafe Cameron would have had me dead already.
I ignore him on the way back to the car, ignore the way he's cursing at me like a sailor. His blonde hair messy instead of slicked back and his arm swelling up by the minute.
I just need to forget him like he did me.
But it seems like I just made him remember.
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CHAPTER TWO ->