029 fuck the bubble wrap
029
screams can sound like silence
There was something comforting in how the darkness encompassed the earth.
Bianca thought she could feel it vibrating somehow, whispering in a way her ears could not hear. It made her feel small but in a good way. Like she was just one little speck in a tiny moment to the constellations, who witnessed centuries and millennia before her.
Like all her problems paled in comparison to the stretch of the sky where it met the sea. They were what she turned to back on the island when the nightmares kept her up. Their pattern seemed so fixed and yet ever-changing.
Even now, as she lay on the floor of Elena's father's Wakesetter, Bianca couldn't tear her gaze away. The two girls passed a bottle of vodka between each other, which they stole from the alcohol cabinet.
Elena knew her father would be pissed when he realized it was missing, and that Bianca was most likely a bad influence on her but she couldn't bring herself to care. This day was the most fun she had in... well, forever.
"You're not that scary, you know that?" Elena turned her head to glance at the girl.
"Thanks," Bianca deadpanned sarcastically after taking another swig of the tequila bottle. It stopped burning her throat a while ago.
Elena giggled, watching the way the earth turned on its axis. Or maybe, she was just wasted with the spins, "No, I'm serious. Like, everyone makes you out to be this like, big bad wolf, and that you're going to ruin their life or something. But you're not. You're just-"
Bianca's nose wrinkled, passing the bottle back, "I could totally ruin your life if I wanted to."
"Ha-ha," Elena mocked, pausing before the bottle touched her lips. "Wait, you're kidding... Right?"
"No," Bianca closed her eyes when she started to feel like she was floating. "First, I'd hack your emails. Then, I'd create several fake social media accounts which I would use to mount a multi-pronged smear campaign to drive a wedge between you and everything you love. Then, I'd get several credit cards in your name and embark on a massive identity theft scheme that would leave you bankrupt, and with any luck at all, facing criminal charges," She shrugged. "That's what I'd do."
"Oh..." Elena trailed off, her eyebrows furrowing. "Elaborate."
"Mhm," Bianca hummed. The cool breeze swept over her skin, although she could barely feel it.
For once, the thoughts in her mind weren't racing and she could finally breathe. Maybe the warmth in her chest was merely the alcohol but she couldn't remember the last time she felt so calm.
When Elena didn't say anything, Bianca rolled her eyes behind her lids, "I'm kidding," She deadpanned.
"Oh, thank god," Elena's breath came out in a rush, clutching her thudding heart. "For a second there, you had me worried."
"Yeah, well, I kind of used to be the worst," Bianca mumbled.
"Kind of?" Elena arched an amused eyebrow.
"I was the worst," Bianca conceded.
A small smile lifted the corner of her lips. It had been a while since someone apart from the Pogues gave it to her straight. Everybody else was always too afraid.
Bianca sighed, "When I was younger, every time I did something horrible to someone else, I told myself, 'this isn't me, this is just who I have to be to survive' but that was a lie. It was just a story I told myself to make myself feel better about the fact that somewhere along the way it stopped being true. After a while, it really was just me."
Elena's head tilted with curiosity, "What changed?"
Bianca's eyes fluttered open, this time trying to connect the stars like puzzle pieces, "Made some new friends, cut off the dead weight."
Elena hummed, "You make it sound so simple."
"It wasn't," Bianca let out a humorless laugh. "It's weird because it was both the worst and best time of my life. I think realizing I was the problem was the hardest part. Everything else kind of just... fell apart."
Bianca's whole life was like little broken pieces, desperate to sow themselves back together. But every time they even got close, someone ripped it away, tore the seams, and watched as she bled through the frays. She couldn't remember a time when it wasn't like that. A new day, a new heartbreak.
"Do you ever wonder what it would be like?" Bianca piped up suddenly, her words slurring. She pointed up at the stars, "To float up there? Away from everyone else?"
"That's kinda morbid," Elena snorted. "Not really, I guess."
Bianca struggled to keep her eyes open, "This life is just so... long, you know? Like, we're here forever."
Elena's frown deepened. She could tell this was the alcohol talking, "Not forever."
"I don't want to be here forever..." Bianca trailed off, swallowing past the lump in her throat. "Or ever."
"Like ever, ever?" Elena inched closer.
"Like ever," Bianca whispered with finality.
Bianca didn't think twice about what she was throwing into the fire, as long as she could keep it burning for just another minute. Just so she could sit awhile longer beside its pale glow. That was how she would go, in the end. With her body cold and shuddering. With empty hands over smoldering ash, counting out the minutes.
"Hey, you're going to stick around right?" Elena didn't seem to notice her downward spiral because her voice was light and airy compared to the thundercloud storming brewing above Bianca's head. "I just mean like, no running off to deserted islands or the middle of the Caribbean, right?"
Bianca shook her head to rid herself of the thoughts, "Um, maybe. I don't know. I've kind of stopped trying to plan out my life."
Elena let out a sigh, flopping on her back and setting the bottle down, "That's what I want. I don't want to think about the future, I just need out of this bubble wrap."
Bianca's eyebrows drew together, "The bubble wrap isn't so bad."
"Are you kidding? Fuck the bubble wrap!" Elena scoffed, throwing her arms up in exasperation. "It's torture! That's why I can't wait to move out... Go to college," She sighed, as if daydreaming of the possibilities. "I just wanna go on an adventure, you know?"
Bianca's breath hitched when a thought struck her. She was just reminded of it, after the familiarity of Elena's words. She too used to wish to break free of the ball and chain that was the Kook life. But lately, she'd been wishing for a way back.
Of course, unlike Sarah, she hadn't indulged herself in their old life. But she dipped her foot in. Smelt the roses. Imagined what it would be like to be a normal kid again.
And Sarah was right, the grass was still greener back on Figure Eight. No matter what kind of adrenaline-filled, reckless, teenage dirtbag, picture the Pogues painted the Cut out to be.
Bianca had spent the whole day, and ever since they arrived back at Kildare, wrapped up in everyone else's problems. She pushed her father, whose death she was responsible for, to the back of her mind, and for what?
To party with the Kooks? To help her friends heist a gold cross? To play House with Rafe Cameron?
Bianca's stomach gave a sickening twist. One that made all the alcohol pooling in her guts churn with nausea.
She was appalled with herself. How could she forget? She killed him. Here she was, frolicking around and giggling in sandals and mini skirts on the beach when she murdered her father in cold blood.
It was then, that Bianca realized, that people talked about grief as emptiness. But it wasn't empty. It's full. Heavy. Not an absence to fill but a weight to pull. Her skin was caught on hooks chained to rough boulders made of all the futures she thought she would have.
Every day her father died again. While she was driving or shopping or pretending to watch TV. It hit her and she forgot how to breathe. She wasn't allowed to be this happy, if at all. Not when she did what she did.
Lately, Bianca could sneak by without him dying. Just quietly skate past it. Tiptoe around it like a mouse between trying to steal back the cross, Big John's return, and this new treasure hunt with El Dorado. But now, it was a bull and she was wearing red.
"I need to go home," Bianca shot up, pushing herself to her feet. She stumbled before regaining her balance against the railing of the boat.
Elena scrambled after her, "What?"
"Um," Bianca pushed her hair behind her ears with trembling hands. "I'm sorry, I- I can't be here-" She inhaled a breath but found it got caught in her throat. "I need to go home."
Elena tried to meet her gaze in the dead of the night. She noticed the girl's chest rising and falling in shallow breaths, "Now? I thought you wanted to hang-"
"Please, can we leave?" Bianca's chest was so tight, she could barely get the words out. "Please."
"O-okay," Elena reared her head back, and whether it was the desperation in her tone or her hoarse pleas, she listened. "Yeah, okay. We can go."
The bubble wrap no longer felt like a soft cushion to fall back on in case things got tough, in case the Pogue life got too much. Instead, it felt suffocating. Bianca was clawing her hands uselessly, using her last breath to cry for help. She was screaming as small, ragged gasps escaped her throat while the taunting plastic pressed against her lips, silencing her.
The ride back to Bianca's house was unpleasantly quiet. Elena didn't know what to say after the girl's abrupt outburst. She really thought they'd been having a good time together. Maybe Bianca finally realized hanging out with her was embarrassing, and wanted to go back to Sarah Cameron.
Those were the thoughts occupying Elena's mind as Bianca stepped onto the dock in front of her house. The two girls stared at each other briefly, not knowing what to say.
"Um, text me when you get home, okay?" Bianca crossed her arms over her chest, trying to keep herself warm. She took Sarah's uniform with her and promised to return Elena's clothes when she saw her next.
"Yeah, no- definitely," Elena shook her head before hesitating. "Hey... are you sure you're alright?"
"I'm fine," Bianca dismissed quickly but Elena noticed the way her arms tightened around herself.
"Okay, well, call me if you need anything," She reassured. "I'll see you, B."
"Yeah," Bianca watched her pull out of the dock and head home. "Later."
Bianca turned to walk back to her house and it was in the stillness of the night when the guilt, and fear truly kicked in. No noise, no distractions. Just her mind to keep her company.
Bianca winced when the doorknob beneath her fingers creaked ever so slightly, surprised it was unlocked in the first place. But the moment her eyes focused in the darkness, she realized why it was that way.
"Mom?" Her voice wavered, noticing Lydia sifting through papers on their glass coffee table with only a small lamp illuminating her. This was the second time her mother caught her coming in late, "You're still up?"
Lydia's spine straightened, as if not realizing someone even walked in. She turned over her shoulder, "Oh... Bianca, yes. I must've lost track of time. How was school, sweetie?"
She turned to face the papers again but maybe if she held eye contact a little while longer, she would've noticed the way Bianca's face fell. The last chord of her heart snapped. Her mom never used nicknames like that, only her dad.
Bianca's eyebrows drew together, glancing at the clock hanging on the wall. It was past eleven at night. Whatever her mother was so absorbed with, clearly took precedence over the whereabouts of her daughter.
Bianca had half a mind to remind her that school ended hours ago, "Um, it was okay, I guess?"
Lydia hummed, her eyes flickering to the girl briefly, "That's a very short skirt. Where did you go?"
"The surf break at Mase," Bianca shifted in the doorway, closing the frame behind her. She decided telling the truth was the best route, especially considering she was already walking on a tightrope with her mother.
"With who?"
Bianca swallowed thickly, "Some kids from school."
This seemed to get her mother's attention. Lydia placed the papers back down and twisted all the way around, "Like who?"
"Same old... Peeler, Mitzy... Scarlett," Bianca was just listing names, trying to fill the void. She really just wanted to head to bed, "Um, Elena. Reedy," She noticed the look of recognition on her mother's face. "Do you know her?"
"I know of her," Lydia explained, still wearing a pair of white linen pants and a pearl necklace despite the time. It was always like that, Bianca realized a long time ago. The only time her mother changed out of her fancy dress was in the comfort of her own bedroom, "Her mom is a board member at the Island Club. Kind of a klutz if you ask me- but oh, speaking of. Come have a look at what I'm working on."
Bianca's frown deepened but she did what she did best, and listened. Her footsteps were silent, as if afraid to disturb the quietness around her house. It was eerie almost, such a large place, and yet it housed so much emptiness.
As she neared, Bianca noticed the color palette samples strewn across the table alongside catering company brochures and venue-hire contact cards. This time, she couldn't hide her confusion, "You're throwing a... party?"
"It's a welcome back party," Lydia chirped, picking up a pamphlet for a beach-side hall and opening it up.
Bianca blinked at the cursive font within, "For who?"
"Don't be silly- for you, of course," Lydia waved off, placing the paper back down so she could turn around and face her. "Now that you're back, and settled in, we can celebrate."
Settled in was one way to put it. Bianca never felt more out of place in her life, "I don't really feel like partying, Mom."
Lydia waved her off, "You'll be fine. You can even invite your friends."
Bianca's throat tightened, "Dad's still missing."
Lydia scoffed haughtily, "No, he's hiding," Her tone turned sour. "Like a coward, refusing to sign the divorce papers. At this rate, I'm going to have to hire a private investigator. My lawyer's going out of his mind trying to find a loophole to get this done without your father's sign-off."
Bianca's heart pounded beneath her ribs so painfully she had to hold her breath, "Mom, we can't throw a party," Her fingers flexed on the silk upholstery of the couch, trying to stay grounded.
"What are you talking about?" Lydia's eyes narrowed, rising to her feet. "Of course we can. Besides, it's about time we get back into the swing of things. I haven't had time to plan an event at the Island Club in so long. I've been so preoccupied with the search for you and your friends."
Bianca's heart twisted. She knew her mother didn't mean it like that, but it felt like her being missing was a mere hindrance to her trophy-wife lifestyle.
"But now, the board and I can finally decide on a venue and a theme," Lydia continued, unbeknownst to the weight her words held. "I'm thinking of buying a yacht, here, see- I've been looking at a few already and-"
Bianca pushed the phone in her mother's hand away, "So, is this party even for me? Or my friends...?"
"Well, obviously it's for you," Lydia deadpanned. "But honestly, Bianca, being president of the Club means hosting soirees, and charity balls and galas- none of which I was able to do while you were missing. That would just be distasteful-"
"And buying a yacht for one party, isn't?" Bianca pushed her hair behind her ears.
"No, if anything, it's an investment," Lydia half-rolled her eyes. "Now that your father's frolicking around in Guadeloupe with Ward, I can finally sell the deed to the hotels, and liquify all those unnecessary assets."
"Mom, you can't do that," Bianca ran a hand over her face, struggling to comprehend the words with the exhaustion suffocating her.
"Of course I can. Everything's in my name obviously," Lydia dismissed. "Michael was the one who convinced me to use my parent's money but now he's too afraid to come out of hiding. When I threaten to sell, he'll be forced to show his slimy face here or lose the company. Then, he can finally sign the papers."
Bianca was sure she was going to throw up. She couldn't let her mother make these huge, irreparable decisions without knowing all the facts, "Mom, you don't understand-"
"But he won't. I know him too well," Lydia hummed smugly, her nose turning upward. "He'll stay there, scabbing off the Cameron's until he can't anymore. Then he'll come crawling back, begging for mercy or money, whichever comes first. That's what he knows best. They always do, you know?"
Bianca's hands trembled at her sides, "Mom, listen to me. Dad's not-"
"I mean, come on," Lydia shook her head, lips curled into a perfected scowl. One she only used for those she considered lesser than her, "It's pathetic. Running away from all his problems because he's afraid of going broke after signing the divorce papers? That's why I was the one who came up with the prenup idea, you know? I had a feeling something like this might happen-"
"Mom," Bianca cut in abruptly, forcing the woman to fall silent. "...Dad's not coming home."
Lydia recovered from the stun of her daughter's outburst seconds later, "...Well of course. I don't expect him to return from Guadalupe any time soon. If anything, it's better he stays gone-"
"No," Bianca's chest rose and fell with shallow breaths. "Please, just listen to me," Her eyes squeezed shut to hide the tears pricking them. "Daddy, he- we were on the boat, and- we were arguing. We were fighting over a gun-"
"A gun?" Lydia's lips parted. "Bianca-"
Bianca didn't stop to answer, knowing that if she did, she'd break down then and there, "And I don't know what happened- everything just- it happened so quickly-"
Each word that fell from her daughter's mouth drilled a hole deeper and deeper into Lydia's insides. A sinking feeling took hold of her heart as if there was an anchor attached to it with no way of pulling herself back up.
"And he tried to take it from me but it- it went off and-"
"Bianca," Speaking felt like sandpaper in her throat.
"I- I didn't even get a chance to-"
"Bianca," Lydia finally managed to get a word in between her daughter's incoherent rambling. An icy cold calm washed over her, "What are you saying?"
A stifled sob fell from Bianca's lips, unable to meet her mother's gaze. She reached behind her neck and unclasped JJ's shark tooth necklace.
Bianca slipped off her father's wedding ring from it before outstretching her hand to her mother, "I think-" She hiccuped. "I think he wanted you to have this."
Hesitantly, Lydia took the golden band from her hand. She stared at it wordlessly, her voice frozen in her throat. She didn't even acknowledge her daughter whose shoulders caved in and whose eyes widened, begging for something akin to forgiveness, standing across from her.
Bianca took a sharp breath in, trying to hold herself together. Her knees threatened to buckle, "He- he told me that he loves you. And that he's sorry," The silence was torture in itself, the white noise like the aftermath of the bullet. Her heart thundered as she was forced to relive each second of her father bleeding out in her arms. "I didn't mean to, I'm sorry, Mom. I'm s-so sorry."
Still, Lydia refused to look up. The only indication that she heard the girl was her muscles stiffening. She swallowed thickly, curling her fingers around the ring.
"Mom, say something," Bianca choked out desperately. Sobs bubbled in her chest the longer the silence pervaded, "Please."
Finally, finally, Lydia let out a shuddering breath, clutching the ring to her chest. She took two steps back, her voice hoarse, "I-" She shook her head before turning on her heel to leave. "I need a drink."
Despite her words, Lydia didn't head to the kitchen. Instead, her steps were quick as she climbed the stairs toward her bedroom.
Tendrils of ice weaved their way around Bianca's heart, a dreadful chill taking over her bones. Whatever breath she clung to escaped her in a rush, "Mom, wait, no-" She tried to follow her. "Mom, please-"
The staircase blurred through the tears cascading down Bianca's cheeks, hopelessly trying to clamber after her mother. A whimper fell from her lips, and her legs collapsed when she heard the bedroom door slam shut.
Bianca's knees hit the stairs painfully, and she covered her mouth with her hand as her shoulders trembled with the force of her sobs. The rubber band around her chest keeping her together had been snipped. Her chest heaved, desperate for breath but she wouldn't allow it, letting the burn fester between her ribs.
The guilt was like rust. Slow but powerful and it was eating her alive. Strangling her from the inside of her body. And yet, it was what kept her alive.
Bianca wasn't sure how long she sat on that staircase, choking back sobs but she needed to scream. She wanted to scream so loud that the ground beneath her trembled and the treetops above her shook. There was so much anger within her. So much rage and fear and sorrow and grief. She felt like she was decaying from the inside out and there was nothing that could save her.
She needed to scream. Scream for help. Scream for relief. And yet, when she opened her mouth. Silence.
Bianca had convinced herself that she was deserving of this suffering, that death was too easy of a way out. She had to reap the repercussions, feel every second of this hell, and then even after that, she'd never be absolved.
Maybe, she'd never feel peace or the warmth of another's hand in hers ever again. But at least, she'd rot knowing whatever damnation her father was in, she would be right there with him.
author's note. GUYS I AM SO GRATEFUL FOR ALL OF YOU READING THIS, i read every single one of your comments it makes me so happy that you guys love this as much as i do <3 i know this chapter was a bit boring but buckle up bitches, the drama is about to start unfolding <3
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