magnolia sinclair • old friend

content warnings || none! maggie's kind of an asshole!
fempov || wlw || once established relationship

When word spread that Magnolia Sinclair had returned to Chelmsfield, it hit you like a jolt of electricity. Your old friend, the one who’d slipped away so many years ago to chase a dream, was back. You could feel the excitement buzzing in your veins, the memories flooding back like a river. With hardly a second thought, you grabbed your jacket and made a beeline for Rally's. The place was buzzing with the usual crowd of old-timers and newcomers, but your eyes were locked on one thing—and there she was. At first, it was hard to place, the girl you once knew had changed, the world’s harshness reflected in her posture, the edge in her eyes. But even with all the new layers and the hard exterior, there was no mistaking her. It was Magnolia Sinclair, no doubt about it.

You took a deep breath and approached her, nerves and excitement mixing in a cocktail of anticipation. You smiled and greeted her like you always did, ready to catch up on the lost years. But the moment you opened your mouth, she turned her head, her eyes narrowing as she took you in. She didn’t smile. She didn’t even flinch. Her gaze was cold, distant—like she didn’t even recognize you. The warmth you expected to see in her eyes was gone, replaced by something almost unrecognizable. Her face, once familiar, was now a blank mask, hiding a person you could barely read. The scowl she shot your way felt like a slap, and for a moment, you wondered if she had forgotten you entirely.

The woman you once called a friend, the one who shared so many late-night secrets and dreams of escape, was a stranger now. She turned her back, dismissing you without a word. Magnolia Sinclair, the girl who left Chelmsfield behind to conquer the world, had come home—but she wasn’t the same.

I'm a rockstar, in and out of cop cars
Livin' out a suitcase, trashin' hotel bars
If I see the sunrise, it's 'cause I stayed up all night
Drinkin' 'cause I need to, damn it, what a good life

Founded in the early 1800s by a wealthy landowner, Elias Chelms, the early days of Chelmsfield were wrought with misfortune. Fires gutted entire streets before