Full Summary (because I had to rearrange and shorten it to fit FF's rules): At 18, Samantha Manson is already engaged to the wealthy Elliot Williams. She's got everything she could ever dream of. Well, not exactly. Sam would much rather live the life of a flapper, living in speakeasies and drinking until she aches. But she might've bitten off more than she can chew when she finds herself infatuated with the mysterious Phantom, who won't even spare her a glance.

Paulina Sanchez has been given a second chance. She's been sent to live with her aunt's family, in order to prove herself. This is where she can paint a new picture of herself. She can leave all the lies of her past life, and start a new one here. She'll be innocent, sweet, and a perfect Maid of Honor to Sam. But her plan isn't fulfilled so quickly, when her past is still haunting her and she finds out that Amity has its own set of secrets.

Ember McLain knows she isn't a good person. She knows she could do better if she tried. But what did it matter? People would always judge her simply because she's a ghost, so she shouldn't bother. Besides, singing at the Green Mill is good enough. So when a human girl tries to worm her way into her life, Ember isn't pleased. But she realizes that she's been stereotyped so long she's forgotten to look beyond the surface of others. And boy, do they surprise her.

"Long live the Reckless and the Brave,

I don't think I wanna be saved,

My song has not been sung,

So long live us,"

Samantha Manson leaned against the grimy brick wall, then thought better of it and straightened back up. She wouldn't want her dress to get ruined.

"So?" The girl whispered to the boy next to her. Even though there wasn't really any point in whispering, seeing that he could barely hear her over the music that seemed to be floating through the wall. "Are we getting in?"

Dash Baxter, also known as her best friend, grinned back at her, "Let me work my magic, Sammy," his comment earned him a punch in the arm.

"Don't ever call me Sammy." She hissed.

Valerie Grey, the girl on his other side, and Sam's other best friend, rolled her eyes. "If you two are done flirting, we should go in now." She pushed open the metal door, revealing the bright lights and loud music of Chicago's most controversial speakeasy.

The Green Mill.

Also known as the home of the most scandalous flappers and ruthless mobsters.

"H-how'd you get in?" Dash cemented himself outside the door until Sam pushed him in.

"Who cares?" She grinned and took a deep breath, enjoying the freedom, the exhilaration, and the overall rebellion of it all. "This place looks amazing!"

"Gotta agree with ya on that one," Valerie replied as she began to make her way to the bar, no surprise there.

Sam was determined to have a fun night. Val's treat, supposedly. Kiss a stranger, drink an illegal martini, and, most importantly, dance.

After all, she was set to get married next month.

Elliot Williams was, in short, every debutante girl's dream. Smart, rich, handsome, the list could go on and on.

But Sam didn't want to be his wife. In fact, the thought of getting married at eighteen sickened her. She was a free woman! She could do whatever she wanted! And her mother must've sensed that, because she called Sam's annoyingly perfect cousin up all the way from the south to "help with the wedding preparations". Her mother insisted she marry Elliot before the opportunity slipped away.

Just like her grand opportunity was slipping away now.

"So," Sam turned to Dash as he casually leaned next to her, pulling out a lighter. She eyed it curiously. "I didn't know you smoked," she crossed her arms at him.

Dash gave her a lopsided grin that seemed to make all the girls swoon. "There's a lot you don't know about me."

"Shut up, you can't pull off the mysterious aura with me."

"Works on other girls."

"Well," Sam winked, "I'm not like other girls."

"Ooh, getting saucy in our knee-length dress, are we?" he teased.

"What?" she gave him a look of confusion before taking a minute to study the girls around her, and a red blush began creeping up her cheeks. He was right. Sam looked like dandelion in a field of roses. Or, more accurately, a prude in a crowd full of fun girls. "Why didn't you tell me?" she hissed at Dash.

He simply shrugged in response. "I thought you already knew about the dress code." He took a puff of his cigarette, which made Sam cough, as much as she tried to hide it.

Maybe I'm not fit for this place after all...

In an attempt to show Dash that she was angry at him, Sam marched away to find Val.

And, she had to admit, her best friend was fitting in more on her first day there that Sam would if she spent a lifetime there.

Not that her mother would allow it.

But, then again, she wasn't allowing Sam to come here in the first place.

She slid in next to Valerie on a seat, who was currently flirting with some guy that looked twice her age.

And, honestly, he didn't seem as interested in her as he did in her dress. Re: what was under her dress. Sam was a little bothered that she had to wait for Valerie's attention. For goodness sake, did Valerie actually want to leave her friend alone like that? After an agonizing minute the brunette turned to Sam, grinning. "So, what do you think? Was it all I said it was and more?"

"No," Sam huffed. "You didn't tell me that I should've changed after coming home from The Academy."

(Yes, Sam's parents were so wealthy they sent her to a school simply titled 'The Academy'.)

"Well," Valerie stifled a giggle under Sam's glare, "I assumed that went without saying."

"Shut up," Sam said for the second time in ten minutes, playfully punching her friend's arm. She'd wanted to hit Val harder, though. Her dress was perfectly on point. Their brewing argument was broken up by a young man that walked out in front of them, presumably the bartender.

Tucker Foley wasn't exactly what you would call handsome, but he wasn't too sore on the eyes, either. "So, can I get you ladies anything to drink?" he flashed them a grin. Valerie smiled back, her eyes saw any attention as good attention.

She ordered something for the two of them, but Sam was too busy panicking internally. A drink? What if someone she knew was here? What if they saw her? What if Valerie and her careless mouth told her mother? What if she still smelt like alcohol when she got home? What if-?

But Sam didn't have time to ponder these questions, since the man came back and pushed a glass in front of her. "Two dry martinis, you two need anything else?"

"Hmm," Valerie picked up her martini and took a gulp, as if she'd been coming her for years and knew just how much to drink.

Sam did the same, and almost choked. What was this stuff?! It burned her throat and she couldn't imagine why people would go breaking the law for something so bitter.

Tucker stared at her for a moment. "I thought you were new here 'cause of the dress but I didn't want to be rude, but man, are you really new here!" he burst out laughing.

Sam shot him a glare that made him pipe down immediately. He had no right to be in her business! She could choke on whatever she wanted.

Well, not like that.

"Who are you, anyway?" she demanded.

"Tucker Foley. That's T.F., as in Too Fine," he winked at her and this time she really did choke.

Valerie shot her a sideways glance and giggled. "I'm Valerie, and the bitchy one is Sam."

"Well, you two should plan on stickin' around for the show. Ember's pretty talented, if I do say so myself."

"Ember?" Sam questioned. The name sounded familiar, but she couldn't put a face next to it.

Then something dawned on her. This was an illegal speakeasy. With illegal drinks. And that meant...it would have ghosts. They weren't technically illegal, but everyone treated 'em like they were. She gulped. She'd always been told to stay away from ghosts, that they were scum and had nothing better to do than invade the human world.

And that's when she realized where she'd heard the name before. Her mother, always updated on the latest gossip, made sure to tell Sam about how absolutely shameless and un-ladylike this girl was, painting her face with streaks of eyeliner, supposedly hypnotizing innocent people, going around singing in speakeasies. The quality of her voice was beyond the matter.

Anyway, it wasn't like Sam hadn't seen ghosts before. She had, while she was out and about. But she tried not to look their way. Frankly, she didn't like the look of them, with their pale skin and brightly-colored hair. It was unnatural. The idea of watching one sing sent a shiver through her body. She felt nervous, excited, and maybe a bit scared. She wasn't sure what to expect.

While she had been contemplating about whether to stay or not, Tucker and Valerie had striked up a decent conversation before he had to tend to other customers.

"You're scared, aren't you?" Dash had crept up behind her, making Sam jump in her seat.

She composed herself quickly, though. "Me? Scared? Not at all," She grinned hesitantly.

"You definitely are," Val turned around to join the conversation. "And you haven't even seen the band yet," she chuckled.

"Oh yeah? And what's so special about them?"

"Well, let's just say they're nothing like what you're used to."

ooooh new story yay! i've actually written a couple chapters already for this and i know where it's going and everything. this is basically a 1920's AU where instead of how there was like a lot of controversy surrounding black people, it's ghosts. plus i think i may change the title. so yeah i'm really excited and i'll try to update this every friday!

qotd: if you could go back to any time period, which one would it be?

aotd: i'd prob go to the fifties since all of america's major problems are over and there are bikers and diners and elvis and yeah haha

-Maira