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v. The Lonely Hearts Club
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Blair Cameron had a habit of hating everyone she fell in love with.
It didn't matter if they treated her good or if they were complete assholes or if they kissed the ground she walked on; she'd end up hating them anyway. Wether they were smart, stupid, sweet or cruel, she'd end up feeding them to the sharks right after. She could count the good moments on her fingers, and she'd need more than a hand to do so because Blair collected moment like her little sister collected stories except Wheezie liked to spill hers as though her gut was overflowing whereas Blair hid them in heart-shaped boxes and covered them up in sarcasm and snark.
Blair hadn't woken up when John B Routledge sneaked back onto Ward's My Druthers the next morning of their impromptu shoot-out, but Sarah, who had been sleeping on the opposite side of the couch, did.
And maybe it was somewhat of a good thing because Blair could be very violent with her emotions when she wanted it. For instance, if she wanted to let John B know that he wasn't welcome anywhere around her sister with his sketchy duffel bags and pathetic excuses to poach their gear (which she definitely would), then she would have been very rigorous with it. Maybe that was why Sarah made sure to shush him even though her sister already had some headphones on with some music blasting at full volume because it was the only way she could sleep nowadays, with beats to drown her thoughts in the noise.
Yes, she was lonely. Georgia once told her that being lonely is a part of life, that she shouldn't fight it too much. But then Ward told her that she could never be lonely because she had him, Sarah, Rafe, Wheezie and even Rose. She had a family. And she had a bunch of friends; Topper and Kelce wouldn't know what to do without her, Scarlet either. She wasn't lonely in the very meaning for the word, Blair was, in fact, very well surrounded. But everyone, she ended up hating anyway. So did it really matter?
So she sometimes felt like she didn't exactly have a right to feel that way. Like the world was a storm and she was right in the eye of it because her support system was fucking waterproof.
When she slept, she dreamt of JJ and the way he still smiled like he used to months ago. But then she'd remember just how hard he fell and just how bad she shattered both him and herself and then her dream would turn into a nightmare of broken porcelain vases and glasses of half-drunk liquid that held a sticky stench like that of lost opportunities.
She woke up hours after Sarah, very uncharacteristic when it came to her. Blair had changed into some more comfortable clothes, just a tube top and some shorts with a hoodie she eventually slipped on because the air conditioning was pumped up to the max inside the boat. Then, she shrugged it off as fast as she could when she made her way outside and the warm post-hurricane summertime air hit like a dozen bricks. She leaned against the railing and let the music swallow her whole for a couple seconds though she didn't know the lyrics of the song. And then she made her way down the dock where everyone else seemed to be already up and about.
