[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/0QwxaX0.png[/img][/center]
[right][sub]Interactions: [@The Muse] (Levi) & [@LovelyComplex] (Stella)
Location: Abigail's Treehouse, then the Festival[/sub][/right]
[hr]
[indent][indent][color=708090][b]From: [color=#ffaa19]Bradley[/color][/b]
[b][color=#ffaa19]Gram and Gramps want me to make sure you go to the festival.[/color][/b]
[b][color=#ffaa19]They say you’re spending too much time in your tree house lately… Which is kind of true? You’re probably there now. I have work to do, Bee. You gotta do your part.[/color][/b]

Abigail looked at her phone, but didn’t bother replying. Instead, she brought her vape pen to her lips and drew in another hit. Her fourth? Fifth? Maybe seventh? Of the day. She’d stopped keeping track, but she knew the last thing she wanted to do was give her brother what he wanted. Do her part? Bradley hadn’t done his part since he’d left, and he [i]definitely[/i] wasn’t doing it now that he’d moved back. All he’d done was make things worse. They had to live in a hotel for like two weeks while the foundation of their home was redone. It was stupid.

She blew the smoke out and navigated to the Spotify app on her phone, turning on a [url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_oanJVP5Tg8]song[/url] and increasing the volume. She scoffed as she glanced at her messages one last time before tossing it to the side of the beanbag she was sitting in. [i][color=#f8bdc3]I’m really so predictable, aren’t I? [/color][/i]She said to herself as she slumped into the beanbag she was sitting in and reached to the right, where her trusty box of Nintendo Power magazines was. Of course she was in the treehouse. Where else was she supposed to be?

The treehouse was the only thing in her life that seemed safe anymore. Her brother had changed their house, changed the flower shop, changed the tea garden… he’d changed everything except for the treehouse. It was her last bastion, something her father had started and she’d finished with her grandfather. There had been additions throughout the years, especially as Abigail got older and grew an interest in building and engineering. There was a rope bridge attaching the treehouse to the window of her bedroom in the house. An idea she’d latched onto from her father before her parents' passing.

Before she could get lost in the sauce, the trapdoor in the treehouse popped open and she frowned as she saw her brother’s head pop up, putting his arms on either side of the treehouse floor to pull his upper body into the room as he spoke. [b][color=#ffaa19]“Abigail. Come on, you have to do stuff. You can’t just rot in here.” [/color][/b]His words were met by Abigail holding up a middle finger and ignoring him as she continued to read about Majora’s Mask. Bradley didn’t pull himself into the treehouse, respecting his sister’s boundaries in his own way.

[i][color=#f8bdc3]Stuff? What kind of an idiot says ‘stuff?’ Be specific, Bradley! [/color][/i]When she realized he wasn’t going to leave, Abigail finally spoke. [b][color=#f8bdc3]“There’s a weed holiday this week.” [/color][/b]She said, not looking up from her magazine as she licked her finger to turn the page. Her words hung in the air for an eternity, or at least it felt like one to her. Mercifully, her brother responded.

[b][color=#ffaa19]“What? 4/20 is the only weed holiday.”[/color][/b]

[b][color=#f8bdc3]“Ha!” [/color][/b]Abigail snorted in a laugh as she shook her head. [b][color=#f8bdc3]“You’re so [i]naive[/i], Bradley.” [/color][/b]The words could have been speaking about her brother lacking the critical information of the so called ‘weed holiday,’ or she could have been unloading months of unspoken annoyance. [b][color=#f8bdc3]“7/10 upside down looks like the word oil. So concentrates are on sale.” [/color][/b]She pulled the magazine down, just far enough so that Bradley could see the brim of her hat and her eyes glaring daggers into him.

[b][color=#ffaa19]“What? That’s stupid, come on. They’re just making things up!”[/color][/b]

[b][color=#f8bdc3]“Everybody makes things up, [i]Bradley[/i]! That’s what language is, stupid [i]idiot.[/i]” [/color][/b]She hissed, snapping the magazine shut so Bradly could see her whole face, including the frustrated look and scowl on her lips as she kept talking. [b][color=#f8bdc3]“If you really want me to go hang out at the festival and —” [/color][/b]She shuddered. [b][color=#f8bdc3]“ — [i]be nice to people[/i]. Then… give me weed money.” [/color][/b]She held out an open palm expectantly.

Bradley stared at her. [b][color=#ffaa19]“You can’t be serious. Why would I give you weed money?”[/color][/b]

[b][color=#f8bdc3]“Big fuckin’ Bradley! Has house money, doesn’t have money to buy his baby sister snacks! Got that software developer money, but don’t got buy his baby sister weed money. Why don’t you fucking go the festival? I don’t even have funnel cake money you asshole.”[/color][/b] Finished with laying into her brother, Abigail let out a huff of frustration, close to throwing her hands into the air.

[b][color=#ffaa19]“...alright. Alright fine.” [/color][/b]With one hand, Bradley reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet, opening it up and peeling off a couple of bills, which he placed in Abigail’s open palm. When she continued to stare, Bradley grumbled but ultimately peeled off another one, handing it over. [b][color=#ffaa19]“There.” [/color][/b]He finally said and for the first time, Abigail smiled. In a way, it made Bradley feel like his brotherly efforts were fulfilled. [i][color=#ffaa19]Maybe,[/color][/i] he thought, [i][color=#ffaa19]maybe she’ll forgive me…[/color][/i]

[b][color=#f8bdc3]“Now shoo, fly. Don’t bother me. The festival probably doesn’t start for like, what? Another fifteen, twenty minutes?”[/color][/b]

[b][color=#ffaa19]“...Bee.”[/color][/b]

[b][color=#f8bdc3]“What?”[/color][/b]

[b][color=#ffaa19]“It’s 8 P.M. That’s why gram sent me to come get you.”[/color][/b] Bradley said, and he watched the gears turn in his sister’s head, her mind spinning behind glazed, bloodshot eyes. He wondered what she was thinking for a few moments, before he said. [b][color=#ffaa19]“Good luck, stoner.” [/color][/b]It seemed she would need it. With that, Bradley began to head down the steps and back toward the ground.

Abigail frowned as the gears clicked, the words she’d heard clicked in her mind. It was eight!? At [i]night[/i]?! Forget not having money for funnel cake, there wasn’t going to be any funnel cake by the time she showed up at the festival. For fuck’s sake, had she missed all of the fun activities? What about knocking the chief into the tank of water? That was what he deserved, for telling her that she couldn’t skate the quad at the high school. It was summer Tommy. Nobody gives a shit about the high school quad in summer. [b][color=#f8bdc3]“Fuck.”[/color][/b]

Abigail hopped off of her beanbag and grabbed her messenger [url=https://i.imgur.com/g9GT4jf.jpg]bag[/url]. Her father had given it to her when she turned 6 years old, after they’d watched Indiana Jones and the Raiders of the Lost Ark together for the first time. Abigail had bravely decided she wanted to be an archaeologist like Dr. Jones when she grew up, and her father had been happy to give her the bag he’d carried his things in during college. These days, it didn’t carry books, pens, or even notepads. Instead, it carried Abigail’s ‘necessities,’ or at least what she considered necessities.

If someone asked what she might carry in the bag when she was younger, she would have said she’d carry a whip, a gun, a Swiss army knife, a notepad and a set of colored pencils. Of course, the days of Abigail’s childhood had long since passed. No, she didn’t carry any whips or utility tools, instead the bag held her favorite My Melody [url=https://i.imgur.com/cSqGHOV.png]plushie,[/url] a sketchbook complete with a set of colored pencils, forty dollars in cash, an unopened bag of spicy nacho Doritos, a half eaten bag of Cooler Ranch Doritos, what was left of a green apple Gatorade, a set of polaroids she’d taken in a photobooth with Kitty, and finally several mostly used flavored lip balms. Abigail claimed she liked the flavored ones so she could let whoever she was kissing decide which one she should wear, but the reality was simple: she licked her lips a lot and enjoyed the taste.

All in all, Abigail reckoned her entire life was in that bag, or at least all the parts that mattered.

She stepped out onto the balcony of her treehouse, then sat down with her bag on her chest as she situated herself on the red slide that spiraled down around the oak tree and to the grass surrounding it. Was it childish to take the slide? Absolutely. Did she do it every single time she was exiting her fortress? Of course she did! God willing, neither she nor her brother would have any children anytime soon, but their parents had paid for the slide and she was going to get a lifetime’s use out of the fucking thing. She jumped up to her feet and found herself face-to-face with her brother. [b][color=#f8bdc3]“What?”[/color][/b]

[b][color=#ffaa19]“You want a ride?” [/color][/b]Bradley asked, dangling the key to his car on a single finger. Though she’d never regretted not having a license before then, she begrudgingly nodded and Bradley grinned. Abigail resisted responding, and Bradley knew he had to sweeten the deal. [b][color=#ffaa19]“You can run the aux.” [/color][/b]Abigail thought about it, but finally nodded. Bradley watched as she threw her skateboard in the backseat.

[b][color=#ffaa19]“Can I hit your pen?” [/color][/b]Bradley asked as he slid into the driver’s seat. He heard the car door next to him slam shut, and he waited for Abigail to respond. Abigail’s fingers were dancing on her phone screen, and with a click [url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Glc-9qvWcP8]music[/url] began to fill the cab of the car. It was only then that she held out her dab pen to her brother.

[b][color=#f8bdc3]“Bradley, when did you get so daring? Smoking weed? [i]And[/i] driving?” [/color][/b]She asked, raising a curious eyebrow as her brother took the pen and inhaled. Abigail kept talking, [b][color=#f8bdc3]“wonder what gram and gramps would say. Geeze, killer calm down.” [/color][/b]She said, reaching out to snatch the pen from her brother’s hand as he rolled the window down to let the smoke out. Abigail rolled her eyes. He didn’t even blow O’s! [b][color=#f8bdc3]“Don’t fucking smoke it all, fucker. You technically haven’t bought me more yet!” [/color][/b]She protested, and Bradley coughed as he started to drive away.

[b][color=#ffaa19]“I have to smoke enough weed to be sociable. Otherwise this is going to be… hellacious. It’s going to be bad enough.” [/color][/b]Something gave him a bad feeling. Was it the lack of texts from Levi bragging about whatever nonsense he’d gotten up to that night? Honestly, it probably was. Either way, Bradley already knew where he was going. [b][color=#ffaa19]“I heard the Serrano family has a petting zoo here. I can think of nowhere I’d rather be. They just have animals there, for you to pet.”[/color][/b]

[b][color=#f8bdc3]“God. My brother is fucking autistic.” [/color][/b]Abigail mumbled, before she grabbed the volume dial and cranked it up as the hook came on. She was done with the conversation, and wouldn’t be participating anymore. The message, it seemed, was received.

[hr]

After they finally found a parking place for the festival, Bradley stopped the car. Before he could even give his sister a word, she was out of the car and off. Her bag was slung over her back and she held her skateboard in her hands. Bradley stepped out of the car and spoke at her back, [b][color=#ffaa19]“Bee! Make sure you’re back here before midnight, okay?”[/color][/b]

[b][color=#f8bdc3]“I’m not a kid, Bradley! I could be taking someone home tonight, you’ll never know.” [/color][/b]She said, holding up a certain finger as she walked away. She knew where she was going: The date auction. With a bit of money in her pocket from her brother, she was going to buy whoever took her fancy. Honestly, the idea of buying someone at all vaguely interested her, that there was a chance she could kiss them only made it better.

Bradley, meanwhile, was content to wander. It was only a few minutes of wandering before he found himself holding a churro in one hand and his phone in the other. He was determined to find the petting zoo before the festival ended, but he was currently having trouble. Which was why he quickly texted the only person he thought might know: Levi.

[b]To: [color=#ea7a55]Levi[/color][/b]
[b][color=#ffaa19]do u know where the petting zoo is[/color][/b]
[b][color=#ffaa19]i rly wanna pet a boat[/color][/b]
[b][color=#ffaa19]goat. i mean goat. who would pet a boat?[/color][/b]

He chuckled at himself as he looked at the typo before he dropped his phone into his pocket and took another bite of his churro. Then, he saw someone in the corner of his view. Someone pretty. Someone with pretty, long, dark hair. Someone… short, wow she was short. And she had… pretty eyes. Wait a second, Bradley knew that girl!

[b][color=#ffaa19]“OH MY GOD. Stella! Hi! Do you know where the petting zoo is!?” [/color][/b]Confidently, he approached her. She might even know where Levi was![/color][/indent][/indent]