CRUEL SUMMER.
000 | what happens after?

HOW DO PEOPLE MOVE ON?

How exactly do they just come to terms with the fact that the people who were once so imbedded into their  lives and played a pivotal role in their everyday routine are no longer alive?

How do some people not question it for even a second and instead carry on with their lives as if practically nothing has changed? and how did they do it so seamlessly and make it looks so easy?

Because Renee couldn't. Even two months after the Johnathan B Routeledge and Sarah Cameron's ' supposed death' she still couldn't manage to come to terms with it.

Even after her and the rest of the pogues commemorated their best friend by engraving John B's name into the tree that sat in the backyard of the chateau.

Renee herself now commemorating Sarah's life by wearing a necklace with a gold plated 's' constantly dangling from her neck — she couldn't stop the small voice in her head from telling her that some way, somehow, they were still out there — a slither of hope that was holding her back from the acceptance she needed to move on.

That same slither of hope was the reason she was here. The stuffy room of Esme Munday's (aka her therapist's) office — the sweat on the surface of her bare legs where the material of her shorts didn't cover were sticking to the leather of the sofa she had been more or less forced to sit on.

It was one of the last days of summer vacation and although as much as she wanted to be at home, floating on her back in her pool in the middle of another extraterrestrial crisis with odd looks from her brother, mom and even their new dog Benji. Instead she was here —not by choice (obviously).

" Renee, do you blame yourself?" Doctor Munday managed to finally break Renee out of her small transfixion.

she looked back around to focus her attention back at the petite redhead, sinking her body further into her boyfriend's zip up hoodie that was too big for her.

getting another scent of JJ's aftershave coarse through her nostrils — the familiarity putting her at ease despite the smell of the leather and the stuffiness of the air in her current surroundings soon placed the heaviness back onto her shoulders.

" what ?" is all she could answer, her voice lame too tired from the weeks of insomnia to conjure up any enthusiasm.

" do you blame yourself?" The man asked again, Renee still slightly confused sat forward and knelt her elbows on her knees.

" do I blame myself for what?" she asked, confused on what she was supposedly meant to feel guilty for.

" John B and Sarah's death." His words were spoken so emotionlessly — taking Renee by surprise that he would even ask a question, although their demise was the entire reason she was there.

" no." she stammered, although the longer the thought stayed in her head the more she began to doubt herself and the answer she just spoke "maybe, I'm not...." she stopped speaking,

" I'm not sure."

Tasseling her fingers through her hair, she grunted although the doctor was far from satisfied with their session to even think about being done pushing at her extremely fragile buttons that were already splintering.

In short yes, she held blame. The idea she should have never spotted that boat in the marsh three months ago. The idea that if she kept quiet, they wouldn't have dived down there. They wouldn't have found the key to Scooter Grubs motel room, and they would have- well you get the idea.

She should have been more thorough with John B — she thought she shouldn't have been so lenient with helping him with the gold hunt, she should have say so. She should have convinced him it was a stupid idea.

Because now he'd be here, and she wouldn't be sat in this office. She'd be with him, doing some stupid shit like they use to — knowing Renee would be pulled back to the kook academy soon.

He'd still be here, and Renee felt like she was part of the reason he wasn't.

" do you blame yourself the same way you did for your fathers death?" She prodded further into her brain.

Something Renee and her brain alike didn't like, she moved one of her hands from its resting position on her leg and moved the hoodie back up to take another dosage of JJ's scent. surfing wax, his cologne coaxed with the teeniest amount of weed and even more slightly the scent of smoke, that's what home smelt like to her now.

Instead of moving it back to her leg, Renee's fingers began tasseling with the bracelets that created the most awkward tan lines on her wrist whenever she'd leave the house to actually get a tan.

Renee's body was currently fighting whether to be angry or upset over the way that she thought he had the right to dig into her past sessions — yes she had been through this train wreck before.

The last time she had been here was when her dad died, she was younger , naive — she let her wall and guard down much more easily than she would this time, if she were to let it down at all.

" I didn't even blame myself for my dads death in the first place." she told him, looking at the clock and registering in her mind that her session was soon about to be over " he drowned, there wasn't really much to blame myself for."

She hated this feeling, she despised the feeling of the vulnerability that was sinking into her skin — although the more she was left alone in her own mind after that night Renee thought about her dads death more.

how strange it was and how much it blinded her because she was more focused on her dads death then figuring out why and who had done this to him. All fingers pointing to Ward Cameron still — she had kept the theory to herself after John B told her that it was him.

Even without a single fragment of proof, Renee still believed him. Maybe because it was thread still holding them together. Even from the grave,  Renee remained holding onto it for dear life.

" look, we both know this is just a waste of both our time." she huffed, shaking her head and blinking although she had to force her eyes to open again afterwards.

she exhaled, " I'm not going to open up to you, and you're not going to be able to help me get better."

The doctor shook her head, " I'm not here to help you get better, I'm paid to help you understand your grief more so you can help yourself get better."

The blonde wasn't budging " I'm grieving just fine, look there's not much I can do— Sarah and John B are dead, my dad's dead." the wavering in her tone was subconscious at this point.

" they're not coming back, so I just need to move on." she hummed " I have friends who help me, I don't need a shrink to help me grieve—"'

Renee shuffled in her seat, although she remained as uncomfortable as ever.

"and these friends in question, are they...." the doctor flipped through a couple pages of her file, examining the key names that her mother had mentioned whilst they spoke on the phone, unknown to the patient sat in the chair opposite him.

" Johnathan James Maybank?"

Renee's eyebrows furrowed, she hadn't ever mentioned her relationship with JJ in these sessions — only the support she had from the pogues after her dad passed — and even then she barely spoke actual names with the only exception being Kiara's.

" how do you know about JJ?" she questioned, not liking how personal this was getting, she hated this feeling and it was clawing it's way into her mind.

" your mom has expressed concern over who you're friends with Renee-" he continued although Renee slouched back and pushed her tongue against the isndie of her cheek,

" what bullshit." she scoffed, like her mom had any idea about who she was friends with — she took one glance at them and decided her judgement, Caroline didn't know them, not the way that Renee did.

"Look, she insisted to me that she doesn't want to interfere, she just doesn't agree with how dependent you are on these friends, she doesn't want you to spiral out of anything else happens to jeopardise that friendship, that dependancy."

" spiral out? they're my friends!" She rose her voice " we've lost people that we loved, that shit fucking fuses you together."

" my mom don't know shit about my relationship with them, or my boyfriend and even the relationship I had with Sarah and John B." Her voice harsher, " and neither do you."

" ok, I've had enough shit happen these last couple months." she squinted her eyes " I had to attend my best friends funeral, so if you and my mom could please give a fucking break."

It was true — Renee had left the house for the first time in weeks to attend Sarah's memorial service. So she kept her distance, even at Sarah's ceremony she stood at the back. Clinging onto Lennon for dear life — who had been her crutch since it all went down — neither of the siblings wanting to come into contact with either ward or Rafe.

All black. Her head low as she quietly sobbed — her brother running his arm around her mid back and rubbing his hand on her arm. The fingers of her left hand twiddling with the gold 's' that was connected by a chain and sat on her chest.

Renee watched as the clock flickered to exactly an hour after she stepped into the room, standing herself up and grabbing her backpack.

" see you next week doc."

Despite the pleads with the doctor who was insisting Renee come back as this was the most emotion she had gotten out of her in the last few sessions — Renee opened the door into the waiting room, people already staring at her as if her breakdown as some sort of circus act.

The weight was crushing her body — her breaths were barely even breathable as she panted, her ears static when she began to walk herself out the offices via the stairwell. A fresh set nausea in her stomach as she shook her head and tried to make her way out of the office as quick as possible.

The fresh air was slightly calming, her hand shaking as it unzipped JJ's hoodie — showing her tank top and shorts fully as she stepped further onto the empty sidewalk. The small scar peaking from above her shorts. — a sweaty sheen layered on her body.

" fuck, not again." she grunted, the realisation that all signs of a panic attack were flooding her body and mind.

a new thing that had appeared in the last sixty days, Renee constantly feeling as if she were going insane without any sort of trigger or realisation before it was already to powerful to overcome with thoughts alone.

She knew she shouldn't think of them, Of the summer no one now talked about — it only made things worse, she was trying so hard to move on. Yet with no success yet.

So I come back to the question, how do people move on after they're struck by tragedy?

Simply, They're not given another option.

AUTHORS NOTE.
this prologue is basically my introduction into Renee's life post season 1 — Kie's a vandal, popes her less than willing accomplice, JJ's getting fired from jobs and Renee's arguing with her therapist and hiding her anxiety from mostly everyone.

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