𝙼 𝙰 𝚈 𝙱 𝙴
stave i 🥀 chapter 6

( third person narration )

𝘼 𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙨𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙩𝙞𝙢𝙚𝙨, 𝙄'𝙫𝙚 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙙 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙖𝙢𝙚,
𝘼 𝙫𝙞𝙘𝙩𝙞𝙢 𝙤𝙛 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙫𝙤𝙞𝙘𝙚𝙨 𝙞𝙣 𝙢𝙮 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙙.
𝙇𝙚𝙩 𝙢𝙚 𝙖𝙨𝙨𝙪𝙧𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙢𝙮 𝙢𝙞𝙣𝙙'𝙨 𝙞𝙣 𝙘𝙝𝙚𝙘𝙠.
𝙄 𝙟𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙘𝙖𝙣'𝙩 𝙥𝙪𝙩 𝙢𝙮 𝙛𝙖𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙞𝙣 𝙨𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜
𝙒𝙚 𝙢𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 𝙡𝙞𝙫𝙚 𝙩𝙤 𝙧𝙚𝙜𝙧𝙚𝙩.

Quinn Hearts took full delight in enjoying clean food at Auradon. On the Isle, you had to fetch for yourself. No silver platters presented with rows and rows of glorious meats and bright produce was on the Isle. Just a tiny restaurant that served tea and other things. Side note: the tea was probably made of some sort of grass.

Follow up question, how was there green grass on the Isle?

It didn't matter at the moment, for a cup of pure tea and a good book are what Quinn indulged in right now. She sat at one of the picnic benches outside, dissolving in daring fairy tales and enjoying lavender tea. Made from real lavender, for that matter.

Turns out, fairy tales weren't just a method of masking the young from the "real world," but it was also a way to escape from real life. Who knew that learning about fictional characters' problems would help you escape you from your own?

Like the problem Quinn Hearts was currently facing. Turns out, Auradon wasn't bad. The beds were comfy, there was decent food, and some decent people there too. As much as she hated it, Quinn had grown fond of Percy Pan and enjoyed Alison's company.

Which was the problem.

The gang was tasked with totally betraying Auradon for their parents' sake and wrecking havoc on their enemies once and for all. But, Quinn didn't necessarily want to hurt Alison. Which was a weird feeling. Her mother had beat the story of Alice Liddel over her daughter's head since she was born, and now, Quinn was friends with her daughter.

And at that moment, Quinn realized that she would have to re-read the page she was on, for her thoughts clouded her attention span.

She heaved a sigh. "How do people read?" she muttered to no one in particular, while eyeing at the top of the page.

"Simple."

Percy Pan sat on the other side of the bench. Quinn wasn't startled by the brunette's sudden appearence. Mostly surprised. What's a guy like him wanting to do with someone as vile as her?

The book shut. "What do you want?" Quinn asked.

"Are we still on for today?" Percy asked out of nowhere.

Quinn's eyebrow coked up. "What do you mean?" she asked

"Remember when I told you that I needed help with the song-writing thing?" he said, "And remember when I said to 'meet me in the music tomorrow?'"

"Oh that," Quinn lied, nodding along nonetheless, "Yeah, totally." She scratched the back of her neck, "So why do you want me to help?"

Percy shrugged. "I dunno. The song lyrics I saw the other day were really nice so . . . " he trailed off, lightly smiling at the emerging pink on Quinn's cheeks.

Before anyone else could say anything, Quinn was dragged away from the table by Evie and Mal. Her book stayed at the picnic table as she struggled to catch up with her friends.

"Ow! Evie, what's going on?" Quinn asked as Evie dragged her away from the scene.

"Mal has a date with Ben and we need to get her ready," Evie said, still pulling Quinn behind her.

"I don't see the point of 'getting me ready,'" Mal said, air quoting her words.

Quinn stopped in her tracks, causing her two friends to stop with her. "Oh honey, you only throw on some lip balm and head out the door. You need this—" before she could finish her sentence; Evie had resumed pulling her.

• • •

Evie had picked out a dress and leather jacket for Mal, while Quinn paired it with a pair of boots, an old scarf of hers, and a pair of earrings that Quinn had recalled stealing from someone back on the Isle and gifting it to Mal.

Evie was in charge of makeup. She sat on the bed, applying blush while Quinn took care of Mal's hair. That's how the duo worked; Evie was the makeup guru while Quinn had a hand in hair styling.

"Okay. Easy on the blush. I don't want to scare him away," Mal insisted as Evie slowly lowered her makeup brush, "Not that I could."

"Please. My mom taught me how to apply blush before I could talk," the blue-haired girl said.

"Always use upward strokes," Quinn and Evie said at the same time; both laughing.

Evie surrendered her makeup brush and retrieved some pale pink lipstick. "My mom was never really big on makeup tips," Mal said as Evie applied the lipstick, "I never had a sister."

"Well, you've got two now," Quinn said, tying off the tiny braid she put in Mal's hair. Her purple hair stood out enough, not necessarily needing much styling.

"Yeah," the princess agreed, "we're going to need all the family we can get If we don't pull this off. My mother's not a barrel of laughs when she doesn't get her way." She lowered the lipstick, "Just ask Snow White."

Then, out of nowhere, "Are you afraid of her?"

Quinn raised an eyebrow at the question. She had never really thought about it before. Sure, her mother had her moments where she was able to instill fear in her daughter, but Quinn was clouded by her mother's anger. If there was fear, Quinn didn't take the time to recognize it.

"Sometimes," Evie answered, knowing that Quinn didn't want to answer, "Are you afraid of your mom?"

"I just really want her to be proud of me. She gets so angry with me when I disappoint her," Mal admitted, "And—psh—yeah, she's my mom, so I know she loves me . . . in her own way."

Quinn shook her head, trying to ignore emerging thoughts about her mother. "Anywho," she said, standing up alongside Evie, "You ready for the big reveal." She offered her hand to her purple-haired friend, who took it.

"Are we done?" she asked.

"Yeah."

The two led Mal to the mirror. She chuckled at her reflection. The purple dress fit like a glove, it's fabric trailing down her thighs. A leather jacket hugged her shoulders and ankle boots laced onto her feet, adding more edge to her outfit. Mal looked pretty, but couldn't believe it herself.

"I look—"

"Say it," Evie prompted, hugging her best friend's shoulders.

"Not hideous," Mal finished, smiling at her reflection.

"Not one bit," Quinn added, leaning her head against Mal's as Evie leaned her head on Mal's shoulder.

The three looked like sisters standing next to each other. They were arguably one of the closest trios on the Isle. The three who leaned on each other during tough times and shared their own moments of friendship, ones that would be captured and stored into their memory.

A knock on the door echoed through Mal and Evie's dorm. Mal went to answer it, revealing Ben on the other side. Quinn did not expect Ben to look the way he did. He clutched two helmets in his left and right arms. His hair was messy, like he had literally rolled out of bed before picking Mal up. This was slightly unsettling to Quinn. Not Ben, but the fact that his hair was messy, almost reminding her of someone.

"For the first time, I understand the difference between pretty and beautiful," Ben said.

Quinn, however, rolled her eyes. Very original.

"I hope you like bikes," Ben said, holding a helment out to Mal.

Mal took the helmet and faced the girls as she exited the room. Quinn couldn't help but smile at Mal's bitter expression as she left her dorm. Evie lightly smiled, slowly closing the door as she watched the two lovebirds' descending figures.

The blue-haired girl sighed in delight. "What a beautiful couple," she said, frowning when Quinn didn't make any jokes, "Q?"

Quinn's head perked up, "Yeah, yeah totally."

Evie gave the girl a look, knowing something was up. "Anyways," she said, semmingly, shrugging off Quinn's offness, "I need to buy more material. Wanna come with?"

"Nah, I'm good," Quinn shook her head, pointing to the door, "I should probably get back to my dorm anyways. I'll see you later."

She waited for no words from Evie as she exited the dorm, miscellaneous thoughts flooding her brain. Quinn felt an emerging headache, which wasn't because of dehydration, or sickness, or normal headache triggers. It was a pain, a longing for something, but Quinn didn't know that this was the trigger.

Quinn pushed the brass doorknob, deciding to come up with some lame excuse as to not meet Percy. She glanced over to her white wooden dresser, where a small pin in the shape of a hook sat.

It was dirty, like everything else on the Isle was, but it sparkled when the sun shone on it. Quinn frowned at the sight of it and plopped onto her bed. She tried to forget, but forgetting is just impossible.

• • •

Pirate's Bay was home to one of the most nefarious gangs on the entire Isle. On the outside, they seemed like every other gang on the Isle of the Lost. But this gang in particular was dangerous to Quinn, Mal, Evie, Carlos, and Jay, because their leader held a grudge due to a simple incident.

Quinn Hearts rarely questioned Mal's choice-making, but she felt as though dumping a bucket of shrimp on Ursula's daughter—only because she wanted to join their gang—was going a little too far. A simple rejection, followed by a snarky comment was enough. But the nickname "Shrimpy," and the pungent odor of fish sticking around apparently said "rejection" more than wits did.

What was even more dumb—besides the whole incident—was the schoolyard rivalry that was present. Of course, you're gonna be mad for awhile if fish is dumped onto you, but only for a couple of months, surely. But for Mal and her gang, it's been almost a year and Uma is still after her.

Thanks to Mal, Uma will probably go crazy trying to get her revenge.

It also didn't help that some of the strongest people were on Uma's side. While Mal did earn the respect of most of the Isle, the loyalist people on Uma's gang were the ones with the most muscle. With the bond Uma, Gil (son of Gaston), and the Hook siblings had with each other, a whole crowd of strangers still wouldn't beat them.

Quinn was bored. Wrecking havoc on the Isle was getting old, so she decided to pay a visit to Pirate's Bay since she had nothing else to do. All her other friends were busy. Mal was grounded (and Maleficent was sure to bolt the windows this time), Evie was with Dizzy Tremaine, and Jay and Carlos were doing God knows what.

So since she was craving adventure, Quinn wanted to sneak onto Uma's ship; have a look around (not just with her eyes, obviously), and maybe she would be satisfied.

Yes, variety was a rare thing on an island with no magic, wifi, or way out.

The salty wind blew through Quinn's blonde-red locks, letting a chill tingle down her spine. She had snuck through the pirates, choosing not to wear as much red this time around as not to be recognized. Quinn hid behind a couple of barrels when she was getting closer and closer to the ship. This is where she began to regret wearing heeled boots. Their clicks on the aged wood would be a dead give away, but fashion was fashion.

She found herself drawn to a wooden door. It was small, tucked away in the large mass of the ship. No door knobs were present, so Quinn assumed that pushing the door would be a lot quieter than pulling a doorknob. Making her job easier.

With one swift motion, Quinn hurried over to the door, pushed it, and watched as it swung behind her. She now hoped that nobody used this room anymore, and Quinn dared not make a sound.

The room was some sort of storage closet. Old dressers were covered in miscellaneous objects; rolled parchment, strings of faux pearls, aged jewelry, ships in bottles, old compasses, and maps, lots of them. They covered the dressers and tables. Their edges were rounded and also aging. The parchment was crinkled with water stains. So were the walls and floors. Everything in the room had either aged or been washed over by flood water.

A bottle of ink, with a quill submerged in it sat on the desk. Quinn frowned. Shouldn't a supposed 'forgotten room' not have a fresh bottle of ink," she thought.

Her frown turned into a look of worry when she saw a signature at the bottom of a page of paper. It seemed to be some sort of letter to someone, signed: Captain James Hook, Captain of the Jolly Roger.

Quinn raised an eyebrow, panic emerging. She opened one of the desk drawers to reveal one filled with hooks in it. Ones that could replace the one that was in Captain Hook's hand. Her hand brushed against the bottle, causing jet black ink to pour over the letter. One thing was for sure: Quinn definitely wasn't supposed to be in this room.

Her suspicions were only confirmed when Captain Hook's son suddenly entered the room. Quinn shut the hook-drawyer with her waist, trying to play it casual in the presence of a person who possessed a sword.

Nothing about Harry had changed since the last time she'd seen him. Same messy hair, same red coat, same hook in his right hand. And his two orb-like eyes. As blue as the oceans, as deep as the seas. Unfortunately, his attitude wasn't the same as his looks. He was a scoundrel; an arrogant fool. Or so Quinn thought.

"Ugh, It's you," Quinn said with an eye roll.

Let's make this clear: Quinn hated Harry Hook. She hated how he was able to flirt with her and somehow give Quinn this jittery feeling that she couldn't describe. She hated it. Fooling hopeless guys was her thing, but apparently, it was one of many of Harry's talents, too. Especially when it came to the girls of the Isle.

"Princess," the pirate responded, his soft voice sending an unwanted chill down Quinn's spine as he scanned her figure up and down, "What are you doing here?"

"Sightseeing."

"Last time I checked, we don't offer souvineers."

Quinn huffed as she emptied several of her pockets, containing various objects that she'd previously nicked. Most of them being forgotten items that sat on the old drawyers and desks. Who would've known that Harry Hook had noticed?

"Alright, here," Quinn put her arms forward, indicating some sort of kidnapping to commence, "I'm sure your captain would love a kidnapped princess." She wore her smirk proudly. There was no way that a pretty girl like her would be handed over to a gang.

But the next thing she knew, Quinn was being hauled off to the main part of the ship. She was bundled up in thick ropes tied to one of the ship's wooden posts, where prisoners were usually kept. Her smirk was gone.

"I didn't actually believe that you would actually hand me over to Uma, in case you were wondering," the princess snarled, "I really underestimated you."

"I'm full of surprises, lass," if Harry wasn't annoying the blonde than, he was now. Quinn didn't know what annoyed her more; the nicknames, or the fact that she was tied up.

"You're infurriating," she mumbled, running her fingers over a token she'd stolen in the form of a silver pin, shaped as a hook.

Next thing she knew, another silver hook was planted on the right side of her head. Harry's of course. A single strand of golden hair attached to it, it's red tip gruesomly pinned onto the post by the cold metal.

Harry just smiled.

Quinn, however, played the game. The game she'd dominated since she was born. "You've just been dying to get this close to me, haven't you?" she cooed.

Harry smiled, looking down, before he looked back at Quinn. "You're the one who wanted to be tied up," he whispered

Quinn rolled her eyes at the proud smirk on the pirate's face. She'd expect him to start laughing like a maniac, per usual. But no laughs were needed. To him, the princess knew that it was 1 to 1 in the flirting game.

"Can we just get Uma or Gil already," Quinn requested, "Or even Harriet, I don't care. Just anyone but you."

The brunette dryly chuckled, still close to Quinn. "But this is oh so fun," he said, bringing the hook to Quinn's face, "Isn't it, pretty face?"

"Quit flirting with the bait!"

A sassy voice and turquoise hair was enough to get Harry out of Quinn's face. Quinn didn't even need to look beside her to know who the voice belonged to. She knew from Harry walking back that Uma was present. Harry was one who followed his captain's orders more blindly than his siter, Harriet did. And let's not forget about Harriet's massive crush on Uma being a factor.

"What do you mean bait?" Quinn asked.

"Fish bait, princess," Uma scowled the last part, revealing herself.

Uma hadn't changed since Quinn last saw her. She still rocked the same turquoise braids and turquoise leather. Her leather pirate hat, embellished with sea shells and glittered fish nets encasing the top of her head. The good news was, no shrimp scent followed the captain anymore.

"I wasn't flirting," Harry irritably reasoned.

"You were deffietly flirting," Quinn reasoned, "Called me pretty and everything."

Uma glared at Harry. "You're supposed to hate her," she scowled, sitting down on the wooden steps.

"This feud between you and Mally-Mal has got to stop. Please. It's getting annoying hearing Mal ramble about 'shrimpy' or whatever," Quinn vented.

Harry lifted his hook and took a few steps forward, yelling thank you.

Uma raised her eyebrows at her first mate. "Oh, I'm sorry," she looked between Harry and Quinn, "is me and Mal's antics butting in between whatever you two are doing."

Quinn and Harry gave each each other a look. "What are you talking about?" They asked Uma at the same time. They looked at each other again.

"You're serious," Uma crossed her arms, "there's something going on between the two of you."

"Uma, Quinn is like that with everyone," Harry insisted.

"And besides, Mally Mal dumped a bucket of shrimp on your head. Big deal!" Quinn said, "Just get your revenge and get over it."

"That's why I'm throwing you to the sharks."

Harry frowned. He didn't recall any plans about throwing Quinn Hearts overboard Uma's ship. Especially not to the sharks.

"Um, care to tell me when we discussed throwing Quinny overboard?!" Harry asked.

"Since when did you care?" Uma asked.

"Aw, coathanger feels left out," the princess cooed.

"You're very irritating," Harry commented.

"And you love it."

Uma groaned. "Cut it you two," she said, putting her head up, "I should've sent Harriet to guard you instead of putting two of the Isle's biggest flirts together." She stood up. "Now I'm leaving. Harry, keep an eye on the princess."

The woman strutted off, Harry's eyes following her retreating figure. Out of nowhere, he sprang up and pulled out his sword. He began to harshly cut the rope?

"Harry, what on earth do you think you're doing?" Quinn asked, still clutching onto the hook pin.

"Saving your life," Harry said through gritted teeth, "Now don't ever come back here, understand me?"

Once the ropes were loose, Quinn easily wiggled out. She examined her arms, which were slightly hurt from the ropes. She smirked at the pirate, maybe manipulation was on her side for this one time.

Quinn patted his cheek. "You wish, Hookie," she lightly tossed the pin, quickly catching it before Harry got the chance to.

Quinn speedily walked from there. She was lucky that Harry had only flashed his sword to cut her free, which shocked her, to say the least. Since when did Harry Hook free prisoners?

Quinn Hearts quickly stopped walking, looking behind her. She sent Harry a thoughtful gaze one last time, who returned it with a wink. Who would've known that Harry Hook could be thoughtful?

Quinn ran her fingers over the silver, dirty hook pin one last time, alternating glances from one side to the other. She proudly smirked in satisfaction before pulling her hood up and retreating back to her mother's place of residence, hopefully leaving Harry and Pirate's Bay one last time.

• • •

Why was she thinking about him? His blue eyes, rough personality, heavy accent. It all seemed to ring in Quinn's ears. Like a ballad stuck in her head, unable to find its way out.

Percy was cute. He was nice, funny, overall great guy. But why was Quinn thinking about a scoundrel from the Isle, who was much of a player as she was. Had Ben's hair been that much of a trigger? Quinn sat up from her bed, leaning against one of the wooden posts of the pink bed.

Meanwhile, Mal was on her "date" with Ben. It was all a scheme, adding to their overall escapade planned by their parents. But did she start to fall for someone forbidden, too? Was the bogus from Remedial Goodness, finally starting to drill into her mind?

But Mal was soon to learn. You can't teach kindness. There's no textbooks, chalkboards, pop quizzes, tests, worksheets. Nothing can teach kindness. Kindness is simply adopted from observations. It's a choice that can't be mandated from any packet alone. What would she choose?

Mal:
A million thoughts in my head
Should I let my heart keep listening
'Cause up 'til now I've walked the line
Nothing lost but something missing

I can't decide
What's wrong, what's right
Which way should I go

If only I knew what my heart was telling me
Don't know what I'm feeling
Is this just a dream?
Ah oh, yeah
If only I could read the signs in front of me
I could find the way to who I'm meant to be
Ah oh, if only
If only
If only

Back in the dorms, Quinn sent the pin another thoughtful glance, in full remembrance of how a pirate freed her. The memento was enough to make the situation clear as day for Quinn. The vivid reds, blacks, maroons, wooden browns, silvers, and turquoises seem to flow through the room, bringing back something that Quinn tried to forget.

But then there was Percy, who Quinn had known only for a couple of weeks. But there was something about him that drew Quinn to him. Something she couldn't make out. It was a sort of pale glow inside of him that made Quinn to be good. And for once, the light was alright. It was calming. But she was torn between two words.

Quinn:
Every step, every word
With every hour I am falling in
To something new, something brave
To someone I, I have never been

I can't decide
What's wrong, what's right
Which way should I go

If only I knew what my heart was telling me
Don't know what I'm feeling
Is this just a dream?
Ah oh, yeah
If only I could read the signs in front of me
I could find the way to who I'm meant to be
Ah oh, if only
Yeah

Quinn, Mal:
"Am I crazy? Maybe we could happen
Yeah
Will you still be with me when the magic's all run out?

Mal:
If only I knew what my heart was telling me

Quinn:
Don't know what I'm feeling

Both:
Is this just a dream?
Ah oh
If only I could read the signs in front of me
I could find the way to who I'm meant to be
Ah oh

If only, yeah
If only, yeah
If only, yeah
If only, yeah
If only

Quinn was set back into reality. Her eyes danced back to her white dresser. She leaned her head against the bed post, admiring the old pin.

"If only."

AUTHORS NOTE

oof a lil spicy ☕️🌶️

kay look, i was kicking and screaming while writing the flashback

oof i ate that shit up 🤭🧎‍♀️💳💥

probably the spiciest moments so far 😏😏😏

HAHAHAAHAAHA i need help

thanks for bearing with me. :)
until next time.

~crrashingwavves