002 !! MACBETH

Music booms loud throughout the space, a smoky haze enveloping the numerous bodies swaying to the beat of the old speakers operating in a corner.

The summer air remains thick, humidity heavy in the atmosphere but achieving the best level of inebriation is the only goal tonight.

Forgetting and losing the usual act of pretense for just one night, living and dancing, laughing amidst unknown bodies — that is the only thing that appears worthwhile right now.

A red solo cup half filled with cheap punch and swirling visions of strangers, familiar faces push past her small frame situated in the middle of the crowd.

She glances around observing the teenagers around her — some having dropped by after a matinee, some having slithered in after a lengthy shift at one of the local businesses.

But what they all have in common is a craving, a dangerous hunger for distraction.

She feels her fingers loosen around the arm of the golden haired girl giggling beside her as she stumbles away with her boyfriend in tow to walk near the waterside.

Ember pays little attention to her friend casually slipping out of her grip and leaving her to fend for herself, her mind too preoccupied with scrutinising the auburn haired girl on the other side of the flaring bonfire too engaged in devouring Kelce's mouth to notice the brunette's glare.

Hailey Walters — a Kook through and through and who Ember was very gracious in naming her "Archenemy #1" back in seventh grade when she had deliberately tripped her during the rehearsal of 'Macbeth' to obnoxiously thieve the role of Lady Macbeth because apparently, being the understudy in anything is a disastrous shame to the Walters name.

She's hated the girl ever since then — hate is a strong word even for the youngest Du Pont but it is absolutely fitting regarding her feelings for Hailey — and made sure to avoid her at all social gatherings lest she end up 'accidentally' strangling her.

She's proven to be a bit lucky at it.

Until now, that is.

Vile, vile human beings — she looks away scrunching up her face is disgust.

Her attention immediately gets snatched by a commotion in the background.

She's quick to jump to her feet at the first sounds of a struggle and pushes past the crowd forming near the sea, a grimace lining her lips when the godawful smell of sweat oozing off several bodies teases her nostrils.

Her brows shoot up when her gaze lands on the duo scuffling about in the sand, the gathered crowd only urging them to go on.

Sarah stands to the side, her hands cupped over her mouth with a horrified expression contorting her face as she leans forward yelling at them to stop.

Ember helplessly glances around in an attempt to find someone who cares enough to break them apart.

But everyone, even the Pogues, seem either too terrified or too excited to intervene and put an end to the madness.

The moment Topper throws John B into the water, his hands forcing the brunet's head to submerge, her mouth goes dry with a real sense of dread setting in.

"Someone do something!", she pivots on her heels only to be met with blank stares.

Huffing, she trudges forward ignoring the various sounds of protests for her to "stay back" and "keep out of it".

"Topper, you bitch! Let him go!".

Ember aims her still half empty cup at the back of the boy's head though it only bounces off his skull doing little to gain his attention and snap him out of his pathetic 'tantrum'.

A loud click sounds through the air, the crowd behind gasping in shock as JJ — the Pogue messiah, as referred by some — steps forward, a gun directly pointing at the back of Topper's head.

"Yeah, you know what that is. Your turn, broski".

She looks at him with a scowl, Topper cowering back in an instant with his hands raised up in surrender.

"Put the gun down", the boy with the frosted tips declares in a shaken voice, JJ only strengthening his aim.

"Say something, Princess?", he spits into the ground.

There are hollers and shouts for him to abandon the gun, to step back and leave it alone but he ignores it all.

Throwing the gun's barrel upwards, he looks around.

"Alright. Listen up, everyone. Get the hell off our side of the island!".

Two deafening gunshots follow the warning, Ember's heartbeat quickens terrifyingly her sand covered boots swiftly meandering backwards to get away from the weapon.

She looks back watching Topper walk up to a distressed Sarah who only shakes her head gesturing for Ember to follow them.

The trio quietly walks away, too shocked to admit their fears out loud.

Sarah wraps her arms around herself while the crowd disperses running back over to the path between the trees, some sprinting over to the parking lot.

"Sarah . . . ", Topper begins shamefully.

"I'm not dealing with you right now", she's quick to shut him up and fastens her pace towards the Thorntons' car leaving her friend to glower at her boyfriend.

"Don't look at me like that", he mumbles glancing at Ember.

She snorts, "You're a maniac".

"Hey, now don't you go acting like you didn't—".

"I didn't what, Topper?", she comes to an abrupt halt and turns to him with a sneer.

He looks about nervously, "We all know what happened with Rafe".

She stands her ground, deathly eyes boring right into his as if that's enough to kill a man.

"And what did happen, huh? Shut your fuckin' mouth, what you did cannot be compared to that".

"You threw a knife at him, Em—".

"Shit".

She curses under her breath when her fingers clutch onto the sheer material of her top, her trusty old bag strap nowhere to be found.

"Shit!", she turns back and hurries away in the direction of the Boneyard.

"Where are you going!", Topper yells.

"I forgot my bag! Wait for me!", she shouts in response, her heavy breaths the only sound accompanying the now quiet night as she all but runs.

She heaves, eyes searching whilst her gaze wanders to look for her favourite maroon sling bag lying somewhere.

A dark maroon strap glints under the burning bonfire earning her attention and she briskly walks up to it.

Her hand grabs onto the strap picking up the bag, ready to turn back when she hears a voice stopping her in place.

"I thought I told everyone to leave. You Kooks never listen, do you?".

Rolling her eyes, Ember looks back finding his narrowed crystal blue eyes squinting at her in the relative darkness, the gun loosely hanging from between his fingers by his side.

"I hope you know how ridiculous you look with that gun in your hand", she scoffs crossing her arms.

His eyebrow perks up, "Your ego will get you killed, Du Pont".

She dramatically lays a hand on her chest, "At least I'll have my pride intact".

His lips twitch up forcing him to press them together in a firm line to keep him from giving her the satisfaction of knowing she's won.

"You think you're such a smartass", he mocks condescendingly.

She tilts her head, giving him a bored once over watching his eyes look at her in amusement.

"I don't think. I know I'm a smartass".

JJ's eyebrows rise, gaze blinking to register her confident words.

He rubs his chin with his other hand, considering her under the dim light flashing around by the bonfire.

Their eyes stay locked, a silent war going between them. A silly little 'who's gonna crack first?' being quietly exchanged between them.

Her bright hazel brown gaze waiting for his wild sapphire stare to falter under the moonlight, an anticipation of a silent surrender passing from his blinking regard to her skeptical inspection.

A truce. A white flag of sorts.

She clears her throat already inching away from the log of woods.

"Goodnight, Maybank".

JJ tries to reign in his feeling of victory but miserably fails when a teasing grin takes over his features.

"You too, Du Pont".

She rolls her eyes and turns away, shuffling back towards the parking lot.

"Jerk".

***
first time writing enemies to lovers sort of a thing i have no idea how i'm doing so thoughts pls?