Garrison.

SPENCER’S parents were completely hush-hush when it came to packing his bags and shipping him out to an island off of the coast of the UK. At first he figured that he was being sent to some lavish resort since his parents were into those kind of luxuries, naturally since his family wreaked wealth. But then, when he stepped off the speedboat his butler transported him in, the old man made a sharp U-turn away from the land, speeding off as far away from the island as possible.

“Alastair, what the fuck?!” He shouted after him, voice full of outrage. But the butler made no signs of turning around or stopping. Instead, he held up a very clear gloved middle finger that wasn’t muffled by the horizon until the boat was farther than his eyes could see. Spencer couldn’t believe it. Then again, he did push Alastair down the stairs quite often growing up. And he wrecked his car (not including the many cars Spencer’s family paid for after the first, second, and third Alastair bought). And he put tacks in his pillowcase whenever the butler fucked up. “Okay, I deserved that.” At the same time, it could have been worse. Spencer was known to fuck shit up from a petty to a criminal degree. Sighing, the young man turned towards the island and walked down the trail attached to the dock, rolling his luggage behind him.

JAMIE on the other hand was well-informed of her arrival to the island. Though her parents didn’t say much to her (she couldn’t blame them; they were always so busy with their jobs that they never actually had time to even say “hello” to her), her older sisters Francesca and Paige didn’t spare her the constant reminders.

“You keep screwing up all of the bloody time.” Francesca scolded while snipping away at Jay’s split ends.

“Mum and Dad are going to lose their heads if you bang up as often as you do.” Paige sighed with the shake of her head as she packed Jay’s bags.

“Honestly, you think that you would be able to easily set aside your normal behavior and be the princess Mum and Dad want during the incredibly rare times they’re around, but noooooo. Jay just does whatever the fuck she wants.” Francesca continued, now combing through her hair. Jay wasn’t even listening to her sisters. She was still set on the fact that her parents were sending her away all because she set a ballroom on fire during an charity gala a few nights before. Of course, she did it on purpose; she hated being there and she hated the looks she was receiving. It wasn’t her fault that old guy set her off by drunkenly trying to get into her pants. Well, more like up her expensive dress.

“Do you think I should cut my hair?” Jay asked, desperate to change the subject. Her older siblings stopped what they were doing to inspect each angle of her head. Paige nodded first.

“Yeah. That would be totally fit for you. You have the short haired face.”

“I think a bob might work,” Francesca suggested, fingering through Jay’s hair. There was a sad smile on her face. “We’re really going to miss having you around. You could have done so many great things if you collabed with our work instead of being a bloody, blinking bap in front of our parents.”

“Calm down,” Jay waved off with a grunt, scooting down in her chair with her arms crossed over her chest. “It’s not like I’m going to war.”

“But you might,” Paige countered.

“Doubtful,” Jay sighed.

AUBREY stayed silent the entire flight to the island on his family’s private jet while his mother rambled on about him doing his best and staying safe while there. His father couldn’t make it to wish him off. That was probably because his father was the Prime Minister of England, therefore he didn’t have much time for anything. His mother stopped when seeing his face and gave him a sad smile, leaning over in her seat over the small table with bottled champagne to hold his hand.

“I’m sure you’ll be just fine. It’s only a year after all. Then you can come home to your madre and padre just might be there to welcome you.” Aubrey snatched his hand back to him, not looking his mother in the eye and keeping his gaze set on the clouds outside through the window. “Aubrey…”

“Mum. You had the maids set out champagne for us like this is some kind of celebration. You want me gone.” Aubrey couldn’t count on his fingers the amount of wrongs that he’s done, but most of it fell under arson, destruction of property, grand theft auto, burglary, assault and battery and illegal drug use. Of course, all of his wrongdoings were quickly swept to the side before it ever gained media attention. It would not look good if the son of the Prime Minister was some low-life hooligan.