[ bonnie fraser is really pretty just saying // song is by stand atlantic

warnings: language, chase talks about her past so there's promiscuity and pregnancy so

concept: 'it's like skinny dipping in my jeans, you get wet but you don't get clean. quit pulling my ankles, i'm already too deep."
an analysis of the song i read equated skinny dipping to emotional vulnerability. chase wants to open up, but she's too afraid of fully doing so.

stay safe,
lew. ]

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"You're not sending me to therapy or AA," Chase told him, taking a swig of her drink. "I told you I'm not fucking going."

"At this rate, you aren't gonna have a functioning liver by next year," Bailey snapped, the uncharacteristic tone leading to the bottle slipping from her fingers. Luckily, it was empty, so it didn't spill, and it didn't shatter. "Ronnie's gonna take you and make sure you actually go."

"Ronnie can't make me do shit." She picked up the bottle and put it in the sink, then leaned against the counter and glared at the younger boy.

"Ezra can." He told her, busying himself with rinsing out the bottle and dropping it into the recycling bin. "Please, Chase. Go at least once. If you don't wanna do it for yourself, do it for me."

She seemed to consider this for a moment, then sighed and nodded. "I'll go. If I have to."

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"Ronnie, sweetie, angel- whatever you wanna be called, I can save me and you a lot of time and money if you don't make me do this," Chase told the man.

"How, Chase? You already agreed to go- you'd break Bailey's poor little heart," he replied, glancing at her.

"All the therapist is gonna get from me is that I have daddy issues, I could be classified as a whore, I'm technically a mom, and I drink to try and forget."

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"Dude, I'd rather open up to you than that stupid bitch," Chase muttered, tugging on her jacket as she stomped her way over to Ronnie. "I know I'm being judgmental, but I think I have a fucking right."

Ronnie sighed, but told her, "Tomorrow night. Open up."

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In the handful of years that he'd known Chase, he didn't think he'd ever seen her this nervous. Her hands surreptitiously smoothed over the fabric of her jeans as she sat beside him on the couch, and there was no alcohol in sight.

"Uh, can we keep this stuff between you an' me? I don't want Ezra bothering me about it and B doesn't know a lot of it," she told him, eyes fixed on a random spot across the room.

"I'll try. I won't lie to Ezra, but I can promise I won't tell Bailey," Ronnie replied, reaching out to rest his hand on her knee.

Weirdly enough, she flinched, but soon calmed and started talking. "My parents divorced when I was seven. I haven't seen my dad since. Mom was a goddamn prostitute, honestly, and Dad was a cracked basket case who barely left the house."

"Chase isn't my real name, obviously, but I picked it when I was thirteen- You say 'Cassie' and people think a weak little girl with pigtails. Say 'Chase', and people think a football player strong guy type," she continued, tracing a pattern on her thigh. "I needed to be strong enough to protect myself."

Ronnie stayed silent, but gently handed her a tissue. This whole thing was sort of a parallel, there was a time he cried on Chase's couch about Ezra cheating on him, and even though she didn't know what to do, she tried her best to comfort him.

"Did you know I slept with Bailey's boyfriend while we were in high school? Like... this was the guy that Bailey literally ditched his family for, and he wasn't even faithful. I feel shitty about it, because Bailey's my best friend, but it was at a party, and out of all the people there he started hitting on me and... things happened."

"And that's how I ended up with this." She pulled up her shirt, tracing her finger along the faded scar on her stomach. Her voice trembled as she continued, "The baby was born in early November. I didn't even hold her or anything, I just gave her up. I regret it sometimes, but I know that she's had a way better life with some other family than she would've with me."

It was at that point that she started crying. At first, all he could do was stare, because seeing Chase cry was a rare thing.

He pulled her in for a hug. She tried to struggle against him at first, but soon enough, she was resting her head on his shoulder. He gently stroked her hair, and just let her be vulnerable for a while.

After a long time, she pulled away and wiped at her face with her sleeves. "We're never gonna talk about this again."

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[ stand atlantic is a good band i really like 'lost my cool' and 'lavender bones'