𝟬𝟱. HAVANA

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" DON'T MAKE ME PUKE, JACKSON."

"

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" 𝗙𝗥𝗔𝗡𝗞

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" 𝗙𝗥𝗔𝗡𝗞. . . . .𝗙𝗥𝗔𝗡𝗞 ? 𝗖𝗢𝗠𝗘 𝗢𝗨𝗧 𝗖𝗢𝗠𝗘 𝗢𝗨𝗧 𝗪𝗛𝗘𝗥𝗘𝗩𝗘𝗥 𝗬𝗢𝗨 𝗔𝗥𝗘."

They'd been searching for 40 minutes now, but to Spencer, it seemed like the three had been up and down the same path consecutively for the last 40 years. Growing old and grey as they continued to scower the place for a person who nobody genuinely liked. Well, except for his family of course. There must've been a little bit of compassion left in their hearts for Frank to go through all this trouble, or wasted time.

Missing Parents weren't an uncommon virtue to come by in the South Side, infact, Spencer's own mother had been pretty M.I.A as of last night. She'd called saying that she was 'lost in the poultry aisle'. However, the dusk brunette liked to believe that had been a euphemism for something foul - or sexual in her case.

Spencer dug around her deep pockets before she pulled out a tiny empty bottle of vodka. Unscrewing the lid open, the girl then ducked under the bench next to wear Lip was looking under, holding it's mouth out into the wind. " Frankk, yo-hoo," she called out once more.

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