Royce Montague's Story

Helena sat in front of her antique vanity mirror that she had inherited when her grandmother passed away, this vanity was probably as old as this house. She though as she lined her purple-blue eyes with black liner. She was still in her black babydoll style pajamas. She had been procrastinating getting dressed all day. Her party was in an hour and she still wasn’t ready. Oh well, it’s my party and I’ll be late if I want to she smirked at her reflection in the old mirror. Her light emerald hair was in a messy bun on top her head. She tugged at the rubber band letting her long hair fall beautiful natural curls around her face. In all honestly she was almost ready, she just had to get dressed.

With a small knock on her door both of her giant Great Danes heads popped up attentively, as they laid one on each side of her.
“Enter if you must.” She spoke as if bored, her southern twang was thick, her family had deep roots here.

“Your highness” Harvey, her older brother gave a bow, they were always joking with each other. They were extremely close, if you didn’t know the two of them you’d probably think they had some kind of weird romantic relationship, but that isn’t the case at all. Bentley and Titan wagged their tails but didn’t leave their master’s side. “Your chariot awaits.” He smirked, tattoos covered his body, he looked like a rock star.

“Good, we mustn’t keep my peasants waiting then.” She teased back.

“Just hurry your ass up. Ty, Bent, let’s get a move on it.” He called to the dogs, going to load them into the car.

After her brother left the room she slipped into her one of a kind blue and silver cocktail dress. She looked herself over in the mirror one last time before she headed out to her brothers car. Her parents were holding her Sweet Sixteen at their famous country club, her party would be the talk of the summer, and with that though a huge smile painted her glossed lips.

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Tyson took a long drag off his cigarette as he sat in the dark abandon shack the boys had been occupying for the last week, people didn’t exactly take well to boys like them, not in the slightest. Slivers of late southern sun slipped through the cracks of the old shack. He hated the sun, he hated heat, he had been buried in darkness for so long that if he was exposed to sun for long periods of time it would make him sick to the point where he could barely function, not as if he was supposed to be functioning now he was a Zombie after all.

He was irritated by the though as he took another drag from his cigarette. The boys were planning on crashing some rich girls party about an hour from here, they had heard that Easthaven had always had weird ghost stories so they figured it would be a good place to hide. Only problem is they’d have to wait until it got a little cooler, so they could all travel, none of them really liked the heat all that much. Royce stood up and made his way into the main area, it was brighter in there, he pulled his hood over his head to block some of the thicker rays of sunlight.

“Well, should we get going, this place is fucking boring as hell boring.” He smirked his famous rock star smirk as he made his way to the door of the shack shoving his hands in his pocket.