𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌 𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐌 | 𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐋 𝐆𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐆𝐇𝐄𝐑

13: WET & WARNED

☆彡:･;.*:･。

THE NEXT DAY WAS FULL OF happiness and celebration. Kylie was working in the bar when V had called her to tell her the brilliant news: Kev had made it through surgery, and was no longer suffering cancer. She had announced it to everybody at the Alabi, and offered everyone a free drink until her parents had gotten there themselves.

She was over the moon. It was one less thing to worry about, but the biggest concern she had. She invited some of her second family to come around, where a majority of them did to celebrate the life of Kevin.
She wishes Svetlana were there to slip her a pint and assure her she wouldn't tell her parents. Svetlana hadn't been on the best of terms with her ex-lovers, and Kylie could see that. She didn't treat Svet as bad as they did and even split her tips in half with her.
Svetlana loved Kylie more than she would know, the two had an odd bond some people would find strange.

Svetlana was like the cool aunt who told your mom to back off when she was being unfair, the one who could seem a bit sister-like with the information they discussed and gossip they spilled.

But she wasn't here, for Veronica had her sent away to some immigration center thing and threatened to deport her. She was hoping Kev and V would take her back, they were bound to– they needed Svetlana more than they knew it– their damn bar was close to rock bottom without her.

Currently, she was getting ready to work another shift at the bar, after being bed-bound for the last 12 hours– thanks to almost giving herself hyperthermia.

Let's rewind to yesterday. . .

The short girl stood between the two brothers, a questioning look on her face as they stood before a storage-facility, garage-like thing. Or what basically was Monica's home for God knows how long.

"This is it?" Ian asked, crossing his arms as he inspected the green garage door. Kylie looked just as precautious– for all she knew there could be a dead body in there, it wouldn't be surprising considering it was Monica's.

She watched Carl slide it up with ease, "I sold most of Monica's shit already." He claimed, stepping back to reveal the view of the storing unit. It was small, but still had a hell of a lot of things inside. Kylie felt sympathetic as she spotted a lonely mattress in the corner of the room, with curtains or blankets draping over it.

"There's not much left that's worth anything," Carl added, looking up at Ian who stepped inside. Kylie followed, keeping an eye on the older boy. She knew Ian wasn't here to find something worth a couple bucks, he wanted something for a keepsake– to remember his (psycho) mother. Kylie again, felt guilty as she recalled not being told about the woman's funereal, the guilt of not being there to comfort some of her best friends.   

They began looking around the small room straight away, Carl picking up the odd item and questioning its worth. She watched him inspect a fan in his sleeveless denim jacket and hoodie underneath– it was a favorite fit of hers, but anybody looked good in denim.
She picked up an old makeup bag, inspecting the small drugstore makeup she wouldn't dare put on her own face. But then again, Kylie hardly ever put anything on her face.

She was Veronica's little natural beauty.

"You can't be stealing her stuff." Ian started, picking up a pink pair of shoes. Here he goes again, Kylie thought, not ignoring the boy's defensive comment to his mother.
"Why not?" Carl asked, no evidence of sympathy or understanding in his tone, "she's dead." Oh how comforting he could be. . . Kylie rolled her eyes.