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Everything's Just Beachy
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2020-12-23 12:06:09The beach was everything Bree had hoped it would be and then some. Lying on a towel in her two-piece, watching the clouds trace across the sky, feeling the warm sea breeze while the relaxing scent of the ocean filled her lungs had Bree feeling calmer than she had in as long as she could remember, certainly since before she’d realized Trent was getting married.
Seeing him that morning brought a new perspective to her. He was the same Trent he’d always been, her friend from high school, the one who always cheered her on, made her smile, knew her better than
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“Man, that’s bullshit,” Hank was saying as he and Bree walked home. The streets were a little crowded around the club, but once they got closer to the resort, there were less people, and Bree felt herself sobering up with the beach air in her lungs.“I mean, I guess I can’t blame her for being upset. I’d be upset if my fiancé was dancing with someone else, too. I guess.”
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“God, Bree--do you have any idea what time it is?”Christy’s voice sounded in her ear, and even though she was annoyed, Bree was just happy she’d answered. At a time like this, when she needed to talk to someone who knew the background and was capable of saying the things she needed to hear, Christy was her go-to girl and had been ever since high school.
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Two weeks later…. Bree sat on the beach, a drink one hand, Trent’s fingers interlaced with her other where it lay in the sand. The ocean waves rolled in, wetting the sand near their toes, the sun baking down on their tan skin as it dried from their first dip in the ocean. There would be plenty more.&nbs
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The sound of the gavel echoed throughout the courtroom. No one said a word for what seemed like the longest few seconds Bree could ever remember. Then, the people around her came back to life, and she found air in her lungs again. “Are you okay?” Trent asked. He was always asking her that, checking on her, making sure she was all right. Bree nodded. She was all right. She was going to continue to be all right, too. It seemed like a nightmare that had lasted almost two years was finally over.&nb
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Yet again, Bree found herself speaking to a police officer. This time, she wasn’t the one lying in a hospital bed, though. Instead, after they’d pieced together enough of the story to know that the maintenance man had been trying to make it so that the pipe above her head would move down, Bree and her bandmates had been asked to come to the police station. The others were sitting outside, or maybe one or two of them were being interviewed by other officers now. All she knew was the man sitting across from her, Detective Coop Wellington, didn’t look like the sort of person one kept information from. “We know Monica and this&helli
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“All right--Bree Matthews!” a stagehand shouted, coming over with a clipboard and a microphone on his head. “Are you ready?” “We are ready!” Bree said for all of them, bouncing on her heels. “Then, head to your spots.” He signaled for them to approach their section of the stage. The band had been prepped on how this would work before the show. They headed to the places they’d been told to earli
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Anxiety bubbled up in Bree as she stood in the staging area, getting ready for the big show. All around her, models and bands were putting the finishing touches on their makeup and hair, the models getting into their first outfits so that they’d be fully prepared to grace the runway as soon as it was their turn to take the walk and show off the newest fashions to an invigorated audience. From what Bree could tell, this wasn’t actually one of those fashion shows where the clothing was practical and might be bought by the average housewife. No, it was mostly lingerie, and it was mostly, well, ridiculous, in her point of view. None of it was s
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