❝ 𝙞 𝙝𝙖𝙩𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝙢𝙞𝙣𝙪𝙩𝙚
𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙞 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙣𝙚𝙭𝙩 ❞
𝐈𝐍 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐂𝐇
╰┈➤ two ex-friends reunite under top-secret orders, igniting the catalyst for combustion with only two possible outcomes: lethal detonation or exp...
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╰┈➤ DREADED REUNIONS
🏴☠️
Reunions.
In theory, they should raise the vibrations of your spirit and add a blanket warmth to your soul. Unless, of course, you find yourself in a reunion potent with trepidation. This kind of energy adds a weight to your spirit, like an steel anchor in port. You feel heavy, stuck, and anxious.
Any well-adjusted adult understands the two ways in which to deal with said dread. Either put on the big girl pants and take the high road, smiling through gritted teeth and exchanging pleasantries or jump on the immature path and drink away your troubles.
For Gracie, the devil on her shoulder pleaded for her to take immature path, to just say fuck it and drown in cheap beer. But, the pesky angel on her other shoulder whispered words of wisdom, to be the bigger person and display how unaffected she was at this unexpected reunion, to show the world just how far Gracie Galloway has come.
As she stood between Rhythm and Data, staring at The Hard Deck's glowing signage, she dashed between the powers of good and evil, unsure how this evening would play out.
Fresh off the plane, the trio, dressed in civilian airport clothes, paused in the memorium of the old days. Of simpler times, when their biggest qualm was fighting for a spot in the top three at Top Gun. They shared many evenings together at The Hard Deck, singing, dancing, and drinking.
Gracie's heartbeat quickened as her eyes caught a glimpse of the all-familiar blue Bronco parked out front. Her breath hitched in her throat, with such intensity her body inhaled audibly, gaining the attention of the men beside her. They followed her gaze, locking in on the vehicle in question.
"Well," Data smacked his lips together, "that checks. Of course he got the call too." He peered down at his apprehensive friend and wrapped his arm around her shoulders, shaking her in good jest.
"You can do this, Mapes. You're too strong to let a guy get to you like this." He felt her body vibrating against his arm and raised his brow in response, "You're shaking in your damn Vans!"
She glanced up at him, her deadpan expression humoring him further.
"You know he's not just some guy, D." She moaned in aggravation and lifted her hand to fan herself, feeling the constriction of heat as her panic attack settled in. "And here we are, a couple of airport chic loons," she dragged her hands across her face and groaned. "I can't believe we're about to walk in there dressed like this."
