sweet dreams (are made of this) | 80s au.
Apr 7, 2020 18:18:10 GMT -5
Post by gamemaker tallis 🧚🏽♂️kaitlin. on Apr 7, 2020 18:18:10 GMT -5
B R I E L L E P R E S C O T T |
The best thing that Bri could have done after getting out of Juvie would have been to go home, to sort out the mess of a life that she had left behind. There was Archie to think about, at the very least—her darling, sweet Archie, who matched her fault for fault, who understood better even than she did that sometimes things that looked perfect were really rotten on the inside. She should go back to where she came from, should face Maxen and Harley and Serena and Hugo and the rest of the damned town and she should reap the things that her family had sown.
She should.
So instead, she ran.
No one in the world expected her to join the staff of Camp Corden, and no one in the world expected Camp Corden to let her anywhere near its grounds, but the thing is this: when your father is Lawson Prescott, even dead your name opens doors.
And that's how Bri finds herself standing in front of one of those huge ugly buses that are trying too hard to be luxurious, duffle bag in hand and a backpack on her back. Her hair is slung up, and she knows that she must surely look as messy and chaotic on the outside as she does inside.
"Gotcha!" a voice calls from behind her, and she can't help but jump at the sound, startled. She's still trembling when she spots him, the boy with the video camera in his hand. He's chuckling at her now, and she forces herself to join in. Be normal, she thinks. Start fresh.
"Sorry," he goes on, holding up his hands. His smile is open, easy, and Bri wills herself to relax. "Didn't mean to startle you." He reaches out a hand for her to shake. "I'm Danny."
"Bri," she replies, taking his hand. "Well, Brielle, but no one calls me that but my mom."
Not that she calls me anymore, she thinks to herself. Hard to do from prison.
"I don't remember you from camp," Danny goes on, lifting his camera back up. "What years did you go to Corden? I feel like I would remember you."
"This'll be my first," she says with a grimace, hoping he stops asking questions. She's given relief when another boy round the front end of the bus, salmon pink polo tucked into his sky blue pants. Bri tries not to roll her eyes at his collar, popped up. She surprised when the two boys greet each other warmly though, Danny wrapping this stranger in a hug. "Jasonnnnnn," he says, holding his friend tightly. They're polar opposites, really. Danny in his flat-brim cap and his hawaiian t-shirt, miles of lean muscle and almond-toned skin, then Apparently Jason in his pastels and his leather duffle that reeked of money and his slicked-back hair with too much gel in it.
And yet, warmth.
More of them turned up, and each was as kind to the other as the last. Joey, all pale skin and jutting bones and Bri was sure there wasn't a lick of muscle on his body but Jason opened with a joke about Joey getting gayer every year and he laughed and said if Jason ever wanted to make out to let him know and they both laughed and hugged and Bri felt warm. Another girl, Riley, she looked mousy but as soon as she opened her mouth Bri knew she was anything but, didn't even mind it when the girl made fun of her for her new camping boots. A boy with an Atari t-shirt and headphones around his neck names Rex who seemed quiet, but he made a point to ask Bri what her name was and say that it was nice to meet her.
Even Jess, who showed up in a red convertible, all wild curls and untamed sass who Danny made a point of falling over himself to help carry her bags—they were all excited to see her, unkindness and all.
Maybe this was a camp where everyone had a place.
Bri could only hope.
She should.
So instead, she ran.
No one in the world expected her to join the staff of Camp Corden, and no one in the world expected Camp Corden to let her anywhere near its grounds, but the thing is this: when your father is Lawson Prescott, even dead your name opens doors.
And that's how Bri finds herself standing in front of one of those huge ugly buses that are trying too hard to be luxurious, duffle bag in hand and a backpack on her back. Her hair is slung up, and she knows that she must surely look as messy and chaotic on the outside as she does inside.
"Gotcha!" a voice calls from behind her, and she can't help but jump at the sound, startled. She's still trembling when she spots him, the boy with the video camera in his hand. He's chuckling at her now, and she forces herself to join in. Be normal, she thinks. Start fresh.
"Sorry," he goes on, holding up his hands. His smile is open, easy, and Bri wills herself to relax. "Didn't mean to startle you." He reaches out a hand for her to shake. "I'm Danny."
"Bri," she replies, taking his hand. "Well, Brielle, but no one calls me that but my mom."
Not that she calls me anymore, she thinks to herself. Hard to do from prison.
"I don't remember you from camp," Danny goes on, lifting his camera back up. "What years did you go to Corden? I feel like I would remember you."
"This'll be my first," she says with a grimace, hoping he stops asking questions. She's given relief when another boy round the front end of the bus, salmon pink polo tucked into his sky blue pants. Bri tries not to roll her eyes at his collar, popped up. She surprised when the two boys greet each other warmly though, Danny wrapping this stranger in a hug. "Jasonnnnnn," he says, holding his friend tightly. They're polar opposites, really. Danny in his flat-brim cap and his hawaiian t-shirt, miles of lean muscle and almond-toned skin, then Apparently Jason in his pastels and his leather duffle that reeked of money and his slicked-back hair with too much gel in it.
And yet, warmth.
More of them turned up, and each was as kind to the other as the last. Joey, all pale skin and jutting bones and Bri was sure there wasn't a lick of muscle on his body but Jason opened with a joke about Joey getting gayer every year and he laughed and said if Jason ever wanted to make out to let him know and they both laughed and hugged and Bri felt warm. Another girl, Riley, she looked mousy but as soon as she opened her mouth Bri knew she was anything but, didn't even mind it when the girl made fun of her for her new camping boots. A boy with an Atari t-shirt and headphones around his neck names Rex who seemed quiet, but he made a point to ask Bri what her name was and say that it was nice to meet her.
Even Jess, who showed up in a red convertible, all wild curls and untamed sass who Danny made a point of falling over himself to help carry her bags—they were all excited to see her, unkindness and all.
Maybe this was a camp where everyone had a place.
Bri could only hope.
