READ ME, pee-el-zee!!
Alrighty, here's the deal guys. I have to take a bit of a break on this story. I'm going to rewrite this, because I really don't like how it's turning out. I'm going to start with the first chapter and work my way up, but I'm not sure how fast I'll get it done. The reason for this complete overhaul is that in Michigan for vacation, I started writing another story (shortly to be posted, me thinks), and I figured that this was a very horribly planned out (like, not at all) and the flow is all wrong.
I'll be as fast as I can in getting the reposts up.
Thank you, EVERYONE for reading this far, my dears. I hope you'll stay with me during the rewrite.
I love you all.
Now, here's what I had written on the next chapter, I'll see you soon at the beginning again.
One thing Charlie loved beyond anything else was being home. Home at Christmas time, though, was an amazing experience. Since Kyle had died, the Hayes women made sure to keep the entire family together in spirit. That is precisely why, at the moment there was a knock on the door on Christmas Eve, Charlie was hanging last minute decorations on the gigantic Christmas tree, her mother was in the kitchen, and Bryce and Chuck were on the couch threading popcorn and cranberries. Everyone all seemed too engrossed in their tasks to open the door. After a few more knocks, Chuck heaved himself off the couch and towards the door with an exasperated, "Jeez, don't everyone get up at once!"
At the door, he was met by a sight he never in a million years thought he would have seen. Outside stood five guys dressed (very poorly) as Marilyn Monroe. The leading guy, donning the shortest dressed, led the guys behind him in a rousing chorus of "Santa Baby". Chuck raised an eyebrow as the five took a bow.
"Charlie," he opened the door wider and gave his sister a look, "I believe there are some-- guys out here to see you." The girl took her brother's tone as a reason to be cautious, and peeked out of the doorjamb before squealing and running to her guys. She tackled the lead Marilyn into the snow, knowing that he probably had everything to do with the drag show.
"Sebby! How did you get these guys in such wonderful clothing!?" The gangly boy giggled, rolling in the cold, white fluff. He became serious, sitting up straight. "Well, Ms Charline," there was something off with his voice, "we are all smashed off our asses." He went back to giggling.
Charlie was appalled. She looked over toward a second familiar face. "William Tucker, are you all drunk?" He simply shrugged.
"They are. I drove."