Build A Thousand Fires (Original Group Story)

Build A Thousand Fires (Original Group Story)

Four women and two men go on the same cruise, all hoping to get away from their various lives, but are instead met with the fate of a crashing ship and being stranded on a deserted island. (Character Info)

Chapter 1

Last Underage Drink - Maria Carey

"Ship Metis, the 2-month cruise. I have my ticket." I say tiredly, retrieving my folded and scuffed paper ticket from my bag, and showing it to the lady behind the desk at the pier.

"The ship docks in an hour, you can board then." The lady says politely, tipping her head down to sign whatever papers she's looking at. I sigh, and walk back the way I came. New York may not be the best place for swimming, but nice restaurants marble the beach.

I head to a grill. I hear it's decent, but I'm really not hungry. I also hear they have decent beer.

The sun is shining extremely hot, and it's pretty muggy out. Cold beer would be wonderful. I'm guessing the place isn't full of 19-year-old girls who look like 15-year-olds, though, so I'll probably look out of place. Oh well.

I open the doors and go inside. People are laughing amongst themselves in a drunken way, with red faces and sweat beading at the hairline. I was correct. I go up to the bar area and and sit down at the booth. The bartender comes over to me immediately.

"What can I get you?" He asks, grinning widely.

"Just a beer." I say unemotionally.

He studies me. "Can I see some ID?"

I consider this. "Sure." I say, and take out a bill of who knows how much money, putting it on the table and sliding it over to him. I do this a lot, so if I'm as skilled as I think, it's probably fifteen more dollars then whatever the drink costs.

He takes the money and grins. "Coming right up." And walks away. I lean back on my stool. Probably half-an-hour more until the ship docks.

The bartender brings a beer in a glass on ice, and slides it over to me. I take a long drink, my mind full of thought. I deserve this vacation, I'm not making the wrong choice. The company needs me, and even if they dropped me, I can find a new job. Maybe I'll actually make some friends at a different job.

I slowly finish my beer, as thoughts and questions run through my head. I can't just have an underage beer anymore, can I? Not without my head being full of questions.

"Ship Metis, docking." I hear over a loudspeaker. I finish the beer and race off to the dock, dragging my navy-blue-and-white trident-patterned suitcases behind me.

The ship is very large and pretty, pale blue with a navy blue trim, with a mast of a huge, pretty woman with long blonde hair and a blue dress, holding a trident. Metis, I assume.

I flash another attendant my ticket and quickly stride up the ramp onto the ship, dragging my suitcases behind me.

"Name?" A man with a very dark tan asks.

"Maria Carey." I say.

"Room 387, Level 4." He says dismissively. I walk to the staircases and drag my suitcases down them, going all the way down the the fourth level and walking through the hotel-like hallways. Room 387 is near the middle. I unlock the door and look around the room. Small suite, with a twin-sized bed (fine for myself), a dresser, a tv, a bathroom, a loveseat and a fridge.

I sigh, setting my stuff down. I suppose this is what middle-class means on a boat.

A small porthole is for a window, displaying a view only of deep green water instead of any sort of air. That's nice.

I sigh once again and sit down on the bed, staring at the beige wall. I have maybe an hour to rest until I should probably go up and swim or be in the sun or something. Until the boat moves, and I can get away from the city and my job.

Two months rest sounds amazing.

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