TURNING VIOLET

an outer banks story

by -spacecadet

CHAPTER TWO: VIOLET OLIVIER?

John B Routledge's chateau was the unofficial hangout of the pogues, that was, Pope's friend group, every summer. Its close proximity to the water, along with Big John's hands-off parenting approach, made it the perfect place to escape one's worries.

Pope sat in a hammock, rocking back and forth as he listened to his friend, JJ Maybank, rattle on about something that involved a ship anchor and a stack of pancakes, a story that Pope hadn't really been listening to.

His mind was on the other side of the island, overthinking a conversation he'd had a few hours earlier.

Violet Olivier.

Everyone knew Violet Olivier. She was famous on the island. Well, infamous, maybe. Her band had acquired quite a following throughout the Outer Banks over the past few years, and she was known to be a wild party girl. He'd heard rumors of her doing cocktails of drugs and alcohol so volatile that they might kill a rhinoceros.

And she'd given him orange juice.

"Pope, are you even listening?" JJ's voice reached the deep crevice of Pope's mind, where he had retreated as he thought about his conversation with Violet.

"Umm, what?"

JJ chuckled and shook his head. "I was asking what we should do tonight."

"We could get some night surfing in," Kiara, the lone girl of the friend group, suggested.

"I was invited to a party," Pope said.

JJ, John B, and Kiara all turned towards him, their mouths open.

"You were invited to a party?" John B asked.

"By who?" JJ said, echoing John B's doubt.

Pope swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down. "Violet Olivier."

"Violet Olivier?" Kiara repeated.

"The hot kook? The one in the band?" JJ asked. Pope nodded.

"When did you talk to Violet Olivier?" Kiara asked. Pope assumed Kie was familiar with Violet from Kie's brief stint at the private school.

"Yeah, spill the details, Pope," John B said.

"Well, I delivered groceries to her house today, and she was there."

"Okay, and?" JJ said. "That girl is crazy. I don't think I've ever seen her not high off her ass."

"Well, I don't think she was high. Probably hungover ... she was outside in a bathrobe, slippers, and sunglasses," Pope said.

JJ laughed. "And she just invited you to a party?"

"Well, no. She offered me a mimosa first," Pope replied.

"You had mimosas with Violet Olivier?" John B asked.

"No. She had a mimosa. I just had orange juice," Pope replied.

"Wait wait wait," JJ said, motioning with his hands for Pope to stop. "A hot girl offered you a mimosa, and you said no?"

"I'm not accepting alcohol from a stranger, J. Especially not when I'm working and supposed to drive the boat. My dad would kill me," Pope replied.

"Aww, come on! It's Violet Olivier! You know that was probably some fancy shit," JJ replied.

"Whatever!" Pope exclaimed, throwing his hands up in the air. He was beginning to feel irritated by JJ's behavior. He loved JJ — the boy was one of his best friends — but sometimes he needed to learn just to let things be. "Look, do you guys want to go to the party tonight or not?"

The three other Pogues exchanged a silent look before bursting into grins.

"Duh!"

— — —

A few hours later, Pope and his friends hopped out of John B's beloved VW van, affectionately known as the Twinkie, and headed down a gravel path towards the beach known as the Boneyard, a common hangout for teenage pogues, kooks, and tourists alike.

Pope's stomach twisted in a nervous knot, wondering if there would even be other pogues there. Violet was a kook, a non-typical one at that, but a kook nonetheless. He assumed the other people she invited were probably kooks — but then again, it was a concert, and Violet seemed pretty chill from the few seconds he'd talked to her.

"Oh, did you guys bring cash?" Pope asked, frantically reaching for his wallet. "I forgot about the three dollar cover."

"A cover?" JJ scoffed. "What is this, a nightclub?"

"It's a beach concert with free booze, J. I don't think three dollars is too much to ask," Kiara said.

"Easy for you to say, Kie," JJ mumbled, digging into his pocket.

"Here, I've got enough for all four of us," Pope said, finding it ironic that the cash in his wallet was the money Violet had given him as a tip earlier that day. "It was my idea, and I forgot to tell you guys about the cover, so I got it."

"Thanks, Pope," John B said, giving his friend a polite smile.

They walked towards a large group of people, and Pope noticed that there were speakers, lights, and a makeshift stage set up. There were also a bunch of coolers and a keg stacked with red plastic cups.

"Hey," a tall kook moved in front of Pope, stopping him in his place. "Three bucks for all of you," he said, holding out his hand. Pope didn't recognize him, but he was wearing a button on his shirt with "Turning Violet" printed on it, which was the name of Violet's band. Pope handed over twelve dollars and led the others towards the beer.

"Where's your girl, Pope?" JJ teased as he handed Pope a bottle of Busch Light.

"She's not my girl," Pope scoffed, taking a sip of the beer. "And if you're talking about Violet, she's probably getting ready for her performance."

"Yeah, probably catching a few lines backstage, if you know what I mean," Kie said, pressing her finger to her nostril and inhaling sharply.

A sharp burst of feedback erupted from a nearby speaker, causing the four pogues to wince and cover their ears. They turned towards the stage, watching as a skinny girl, dressed in a black lace dress, fishnets, and a pair of Doc Martens took the stage.

Pope squinted his eyes, realizing that it was Violet. She looked vastly different from the mimosa-sipping, robe-wearing kook he'd seen earlier that day. An electric guitar was draped around her shoulders, and he noticed a purple guitar pick in her hand.

"Yeah, hey everyone," she said in her voice, which sounded deep and a bit scratchy, as it often did. Pope wasn't sure if it was from smoking, singing, or it just had always been that way. Either way, it definitely made her voice memorable, and it helped her band stand out.

Not that Pope had been thinking about Violet's voice, or her band.

The rest of the band trickled out, taking their respective positions.

"Thanks for coming tonight," Violet's voice rang out, sending chills down the back of Pope's arms. "We're so psyched to see such a great turnout."

Pope turned around, seeing that the group behind him had doubled since last he'd checked. The pogues were more towards the front, meaning they got a good view of the stage.

"We've got a great set list planned for you tonight, I can promise that much," Violet said with a smirk. "If you've never heard us before, we are Turning Violet."

With that, Violet placed the microphone back in its stand and turned towards the drummer, who started them off with a beat. The bass player then picked up, and before Pope knew it, the whole band was going.

They covered the song of an indie punk artist Pope had never heard in his entire life. It didn't matter that he didn't know the music, because it was good. Violet's band was good. No, they were great. He found himself wondering how a group like Turning Violet had materialized out of Kildare County. No, how a girl like Violet had materialized out of Kildare County.

The song lulled to a stop and the audience erupted into applause, Pope included. He let out a loud hoot, which surprised his friends, and frankly, surprised himself.

"Thanks, y'all," Violet said, smirking as she took the microphone once again. "I think now would be a great time to introduce the band," she said, gesturing to her bandmates. "On the bass, we have Miss Felicity Harding."

A girl with long braids wearing a red leather jacket took a bow, gripping a bass guitar in her hands that was almost as long as she was tall. Pope recognized her from around the Outer Banks, though he hadn't known her name until now. She was undoubtedly another child of the kook families he and his father delivered groceries too.

"And on drums, we have my girl Nora Matil." Violet pointed to the drummer, who grinned wildly as the audience applauded her, tapping her drumsticks together.

Felicity walked up to her own microphone, taking it off the stand. "And because she'll never introduce herself otherwise, I guess I have to," she muttered, pointing to Violet, who had stopped talking to take a swig from a bottle of beer. "Our lead singer, guitarist, and frontwoman extraordinaire. Violet Olivier, everybody."

The audience cheered louder than they did at the end of the first song, and Pope shared an amused glance with his friends.

"Jeez, Pope, you may have some competition for your girl," JJ yelled loudly in his ear.

"She's not my girl!" Pope repeated, shoving JJ slightly.

"Okay, okay," Violet took the microphone again, feigning annoyance. By the look on her face, however, it was clear she enjoyed the attention. "Enough with the formalities. I know you all came here for two things: booze and music. I don't think we've heard enough of the latter!"

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ author's note ✫・゜・。.

i'm having so much fun with this story, y'all have no idea.

i don't have much to say here, but what are y'all's thoughts so far? thoughts on the plot? thoughts on violet?

thank you so much for reading! 

xx,

madi