Sitting in an idling car under the heat of the California sun, Casey Mitchell tries with everything she has to avoid giving into the desire to turn tail and run. To avoid succumbing to the instinct that all but demands that she realize, sooner rather than later, that this is an absolutely abysmal idea. Her life, in the last few weeks, has turned far more chaotic than even she might have been able to predict, her penchant for flying fast and loose notwithstanding. And now?

Now, the consequences of her actions have become a thing she can no longer outrun.

She should have seen it coming, of course. Maybe not this exact scenario, but something not all that far off the mark. Countless times, her family has warned her against making rash decisions. Letting emotion dictate her choices, rather than logical fact. But somehow, in spite of all of that, she's never managed to succeed, proving time and time again that she is far too much like her father for her own good.

In response to the realization circulating through her thoughts for what has to be the hundredth time since reality had come swooping in to derail her, Casey allows her head to drop back against the headrest. She exhales in an exasperated rush, while her fingers flex on the steering wheel until the skin of her knuckles whitens from the effort.

She's being foolish. What can possibly be so hard about getting out of the damn car, walking across the gravel of the parking lot, and stepping through the propped open doorway of the damned bar?

Nothing. Absolutely nothing. Except for the glaring fact of how, if she does commit to this, everything about her life could change forever.

More so than it already has…

Shaking her head, Casey allows her eyes to slip closed for a moment, the warmth of the interior of her car sinking into her skin, though it does little to calm the racing of her heart. Again, she wrestles with the desire to place the key in the ignition. To drive back the way she came, until she's back at the apartment she'd known for a little over a year on the east coast.

The idea is entirely too tempting, and before long, Casey catches herself dragging the fingers of one hand through wind-tousled hair. The other hand knocks her sunglasses down to rest upon the bridge of her nose.

She clambers out of the driver's seat, stumbling just a bit as a result of the haste behind the movement, but refuses to allow herself to take that as a sign she should stop, knowing that if she gives her apprehension even a moment longer of her time, she will definitely lose her nerve.

The slam of the car door behind her all but settles that score, or at least so she hopes, the sound doing more to steel her nerves than anything else has been capable of doing thus far. Her heeled boots seem quite capable of carrying her forward without stumbling in the gravel beneath her feet. Whether rightly or wrongly, she seizes on that reality, trying to twist it into a sign that everything will be okay. That her entire life is not about to fly apart at the seams.

Casey can feel her fingernails digging into the skin of her palms as she walks, the pressure almost enough to draw blood. And although it takes a significant amount of effort to do so, she forces herself to at least try to relax before she walks through the open door of a bar her mom has owned and operated since moving back to North Island years ago.

The bar that has been more of a home to her than practically any other place she has ever known.

Music wafting over the speakers reaches her in record time almost as soon as she steps inside, the familiarity of the tune provoking a ghost of a smile. And as she weaves her way through the crowd already gathering around the bar, Casey does the best she can to ensure that the expression will stick around.

If she wants to have any chance at her return appearing even the slightest bit normal, she has absolutely no other choice but to act that way, no matter the cost.

A task that is honestly likely to become far more difficult than Casey cares to admit.

Forcing her mind from the thought, however, she chooses to focus instead on sidling up to the bar. On securing a stool to sit on, between two pilots she does not recognize. She takes note of how her mother's eyes seem to widen as she turns to offer another newcomer a drink, and pauses in the act not long after, her expression adopting an unmistakable tone of surprise.

Casey hadn't considered calling or sending a text to warn of her impending arrival, half-convinced that doing so would only make the return more daunting than it already is. A fact that her mother only confirms as soon as she recovers from her surprise for long enough to change course entirely.

"Casey?"

"Hey, Mom."

"I didn't think you were coming back for another visit until your birthday," Penny Benjamin states, only the smile that pulls up at both corners of her mouth removing the likelihood that her words might inadvertently be misunderstood, "What changed?"

"A girl needs a reason to come visit her mom, now?"

"When her mom knows her as well as I happen to know you? I'd say so."

"You make it sound like I hardly visit at all!" Casey laughs, aware of the slight arch of her mother's eyebrow that comes about almost as soon as the protest leaves her lips, "What? I—I visit!"

"Not nearly often enough."

"Is that your way of saying that you miss me?"

"What do you think?"

Unable to resist the tenuous grin that pulls at her lips, Casey relaxes just a little in her seat, the apprehension she'd been nearly overwhelmed by upon her first arrival seeming to fade, albeit by only a small degree. Regardless of the true reason behind her return, she would be a fool to pretend she had not also been seeking some manner of familiarity because of it. As though a part of her needs to be back among family and friends, no matter what each of them may think of the truth when she can no longer keep it at bay.

The idea of coming clean still terrifies her, of course, but beneath the weight of her mother's curious gaze, Casey is forced to put such thoughts to the back of her mind, if for no other reason than to ensure that the truth does not reveal itself until she is ready.

If she ever truly can be, at all.

"I think you missed me."

"You seem fairly confident," Penny teases, her own laughter far more warm and welcoming than Casey truly believes she deserves, "Perhaps that confidence needs a drink?"

"Are we promoting alcoholism now?"

"Or maybe I just know my daughter well enough to know all of her habits."

"Well this time, I think I'll pass," Casey says, the renewed surprise in her mother's expression causing a curious twisting sensation to take root in her gut, something that is not all that far away from guilt, "Maybe just a Shirley Temple?"

"Feeling nostalgic, are we?"

"Something—something like that, yeah."

Whatever doubts her mother clearly seems to harbor over the request, and the motivations behind it, Penny seems content enough to let them go for now, a reality for which Casey is abundantly grateful, whether or not she will ever be able to put such a feeling into words. And even if she is well aware she is hardly off the hook, or free from any and all forms of scrutiny, Casey takes the drink her mother hands her with a far more encouraging smile than she initially believed herself capable of summoning…

And although she has good reason to opt for refusing the alcohol her mother had initially offered, Casey cannot help but wish for something a bit stronger as soon as a voice calls out above the music, alerting her to a new arrival she is hardly prepared for at all.

"Bradshaw! Is that you?"

No matter her hopes for obtaining at least one night at home without being forced to face the consequences of her own actions, such as they are, it would appear that she is not about to be so fortunate.

A reality that is only confirmed as soon as she glances towards the new arrival, and finds herself absolutely incapable of looking away.

…

Alright, my loves. At this point, I'm certain you're all wondering what on earth I'm doing. Honestly? I'm kind of wondering the same. This is hardly the first time I've re-vamped this story of mine, since its inception, but I hope (perhaps foolishly) that all of the revisions haven't managed to turn any of you away. Most recently, it's seemed as though a large chunk of my writer's block has stemmed from the inclusion of perhaps...too many OCs? Coupled with a very real concern that I would somehow fail at making them all unique, rather than just cardboard cutouts, instead. So with that in mind, I've decided to go back to the basics, as it were, to try my hand with Casey and eventually her dear friend Evelyn as I had planned in the very original format of this tale. Hopefully this will alleviate the writer's block, my worries, *and* keep you all entertained at the same time?

As always, my heartfelt thanks goes out to each and every one of you that has been with me from the start, as well as to each of you that has stumbled upon this story along the way! I appreciate your time, encouragement, and feedback so very much more than you know! And I truly hope that you all enjoy what is to come!

~angstytalesrx~