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21:23PM
SATURDAY
SANTA CARLA
DINNER WITH THE BOYS.
Trigger warning: Blood, gore and murder.
There is a distant chanting; laughter and yells circulating over a roaring campfire. I smell the burning of the wood before I see the golden glow and I begin to straighten up my spine on the back of the dirt bike. I stretch forwards and rest my chin over David's shoulder, "Are we eating with them?"
For a moment, he is silent before he responds, his head never turns, "Something like that."
My brows knit together at his words, though my growing curiosity is cut short when I spot the others leaning behind a leafless tree, shoving each other over like teenage boys. Michael stands out of the way with his hands shoved tightly in his jean pockets. He seems uncomfortable and it seems to put me at slight ease knowing that I am not alone with that. David puts the engine to a stop and shoves down the stand with his right foot, slipping off of the seat with me behind him, "All right boys, show some class. Our guest's are here."
They each begin to quiet, a menacing, almost smug smirk painted on each of their pale faces. I feel their eyes on me as I regain my balance on the sand before I subconsciously carry myself over to Michael's side. Perhaps it is the fact that his mother brings me at ease that I felt the need to be near him, almost like being under the wing of an older brother. Though I am almost certain that I am older than him, it doesn't stop my body from relaxing when I feel his warmth radiate against my arm. Perhaps I only felt the urge for his presence because he is Lucy's son.
"Michael." David states his name, reaching his arm outwards towards where we both stand, "Join us."
He waddles from beside me slowly, looking back at me un-easily with his hands scooped into his jean pockets, clearly as un-certain as I am. I breath inwards and the taste of camp wood and ocean air tickles on my tongue, for a moment I want to forget my surroundings and close my eyes in serenity until I remind myself that no one here is really to be trusted. I'm beginning to wonder whether I am too. The boys look back at me, the shadow of the nearby flames dancing along the sinister smirk that is written on each of their faces. I feel a presence by my side suddenly and I gasp, turning to meet two icy orbs much clearer than David's, and a head of platinum waves. I begin to question my ability of judging my surroundings when I realise that I was never aware of his stance behind me.
"Marko, is it?" I question, raking my brain for names that they had dished out to me the night that we met.
He chuckles, gaze dropping down to my feet and back up to meet my own, "I like how that sounds on you."
A lump grows in my throat as he wonders over to meet the other boys and like a lone, nervous rabbit, I'm left alone to wonder what my purpose in this is. I sigh, pulling my weight up from sinking into the golden sand, and walk over to them. I watch as they climb a dry, leafless tree to get a good luck at the party further down the beach, "Why am I here, David?"
