Leilah shifted her weight from one foot to the other, fingers playing with the end of her hair. She should have expected to be asked by someone to dance. It was certainly her luck. And part of her felt bad, the other woman seemed nice. But…
“I don’t know how to.” She exhaled slowly as she held out her notebook, head shaking before she made an addition. “I’d step on your toes.”
And it was the truth. She loved dancers, loved to watch them. They always seemed so…graceful. But it was never something she had a reason to learn. She was quite content to sit on the sidelines and watch, thank you very much.
“you’ve never tried..?” dylan asks with wonder in her eyes as she takes another sip from the glass, her cheeks beginning to feel flushed. she hadn’t ever been good at dancing either, in fact she probably looked like a baby giraffe trying to find her footing. in her mind, however, it was all about the partner you had.
“not if you pay attention.” she muses with a soft laugh before her eyes gaze off at the small dance floor as she watches pairs whisk away under the chandelier, turning and twisting in step. “you need a drink? don’t think.. you’d be bad after a glass..” she ushers at her own glass with a soft grin and a hopeful gaze.
“Dancing really isn’t my thing.” Minh argued with a shake of her head. She didn’t know how to dance because she’d never been taught. Mostly everything she knew about dancing she’d seen on tv, and she wasn’t sure that was the most accurate place to learn these sorts of things. “I’d probably be embarrassingly bad about it, and you’d wish that you’d asked literally anyone else.” She added, as she didn’t want for them to think that it was just them that she didn’t want to dance at. “Then again maybe you’d be laughing so hard you wouldn’t be bored anymore.”
“what do you mean?” dylan laughs as she brushes a hair back behind her ear, curiosity getter the better of her when she thinks about why the girl had her own reservations about something as simple as dancing. “it’s not about looking good.. or being good at it.” they begin to explain with a grin before reaching to grab their hand. “oh c’mon, just one dance? it’ll be fun.. lifes too short to worry about being good at things that don’t really even matter.” she hums with a bright smile, eyebrows raised. “it’ll be fuuuun...” her words drag with a wiggle of her shoulders.
“ I TOLD YOU, I DON’T DANCE, ” thea says flatly, shaking her head. “ i’ll get another drink with you, but you’re on your own for that one. if you thought this was going to be more fun than it is, that’s on you. ”
“don’t be such a drag... thea.” dylan groans from behind her glass as she crosses her arm over her stomach, elbow supported by her hand. “fine, fine. i’ll settle for that much.” they mutter as they nudge her friend with her elbow. “what’re you drinkin’?” she asks.
The plead seemed to reflect desperation, for this guest really looked like she was swimming in a sea of boredom. An amused smile crossed Devon’s lips as the other mentioned the socialization of the environment, and the lack of fast-paced entertainment. If she was expecting a rave, she attended the wrong kind of event. “Do you feel out of your element?” She inquired. “I suppose the atmosphere isn’t for everyone.“ Taking a sip of her own wine, she decided to indulge the request. “Alright, love,” Devon started, setting the glass down. “I promise not to step on your toes if you promise not to step on mine.”
dylan wasn’t scared the girl would deny her request, in reality she’d find someone else, another pour soul to empty her insecurities onto. but when she spoke her head lulled to the side with a soft chuckle. “no.. well.. yes? kind of.. i’m like.. used to this kind of shit.” she waves off in the air, eyes rolling a bit. “but normally theres more life to it..” she hums as she bites down on her cheek. when the blonde agrees her heart soars and the brightest smile replaces the soft one that she wore moments prior. “really?!” she exclaims with a laugh. she downs the rest of her drink before extending her hand. “oh, i’m the best dancer.. don’t fret.” she promises.
“oh c’mon...” dylan pleads with a soft pout of their lower lip, eyes sparkling beneath the chandelier of the ball room with a glass of wine dangling on her fingertips. her eyelashes bat a few times as a soft grin appears on her lips and now she’s pushing onto her toes. “just one dance... that’s all i’m asking for.. i don’t think that’s a lot..” she presses as she falls back down onto her heels before pulling the glass to her lips for a slow sip. “it’s practically a snooze fest.. too much.. networking..” she grumbles as she waves her fingers in the air, still unsure what the gala was even for. she was naive, the much so was obvious.
“Okay, here’s the deal.” Persephone slid into the chair opposite the other person without notice, well aware she must have appeared to be a madwoman. “You see that guy over there? —Don’t look him in the eye, you might summon him.— He has been following me around for an hour thinking he’s entitled to my attention and will not go away.” Telling him to get lost had fallen upon deaf ears, and given the fact she was unable to lie, she couldn’t make up an excuse to shake him. “I only have, like, seven bucks and half a bag of takis to my name, but I swear if you can get rid of him I will do anything you ask of me.” ( @duskstart )
having just spent the past half hour having to explain the difference between a baked alaska and a crème brûlée to someone who clearly had no interest; dylan had felt eternally grateful for the girl who suddenly took up the space beside her. her eyes immediately flicked over to the man in question though were quick to divert at the sudden threat. “su- summon? what are you-” dylan is barely able to get the words out before she’s leaning forward, listening to her speak and her shoulders begin to tense. “i mean.. it wouldn’t be the first time i’ve.. had to do that..” she mutters as she leans back in her chair, her gaze soon seeking him out once more, despite her fear of just what the girl meant. “fuck it. i’ll do it for free.” she mutters before pushing herself to stand. “you stayin’ here?” she asks with a soft raise of her eyebrow and a small smirk to match.
he feels out of place, adjusting his suit jacket for the hundredth time that evening. his clothes feel stiff, and eddie feels stupid. there’s a reason he doesn’t make a habit of attending these sort of events. for one, he hates dressing up — but they’re also a reminder of all the things he prefers to ignore, the ballroom thick with the scent of supernatural creatures lurking through the place. “ this, uh, isn’t really my scene, ” eddie finally admits. he wouldn’t have come, either, if it wasn’t for the sake of wanting to keep an eye on his little brother. “ free booze is pretty convincing … guess they gotta do something to get a turn out. ”
her lips are painted red and not the fire engine bright red, or the soft hint of cherry.. it’s deep, almost blood red. she’s dawned on a black gown that brushes against the floor as she walks, a steep v-neck showing her collarbones off in the elegant lighting. she’s used to these sort of events, galas.. schmoozing and attempting to impress each and every person you come in contact with.. it had become something she had grown quite good at. she’d received an invite through a friend and even if it gave her an excuse to dress up she couldn’t displace the feeling that she didn’t feel completely vulnerable. her chin picks up as she hears the tender voice, her lips upturn into a soft grin as she looks over at him, her head tilting to the side a bit. “i can tell.. don’t want to be a dick.. but it’s pretty obvious.” she hums as she wanders over, eyes glancing over at the array of drinks they had displayed, hell she’s enticed. “maybe you should have one, personally i always take a shot of tequila before i attend.. any of these things..” she trails as she waves her hand in the air, eyebrows furrowing. “you could afford to lose that wrinkle in your forehead.” she teases.
( fivel stewart. cisfemale. she/her. what you know, two door cinema club. ) well, would you look at DYLAN HOLBROOK this year? i’ve heard they’re a full TWENTY SIX years young, and a BAKER at SWEET CHEEKS. you can always find them sipping a GIN & TONIC while they HONE IN ON THEIR PHOTOGRAPHY when dusk falls, you can usually find them heading home to THE BRONX by BICYCLE.
@duskintro
Age: twenty six
Birthday: october 31st
Zodiac sign: scorpio
Sexual Orientation: bisexual
Relationship Status: single
Occupation: pastry chef / baker @ sweet cheeks
Positive Traits: romantic, easy going, coordinated, patient
Negative Traits: strong willed, particular, arrogant, pessimistic
Aesthetics: the smell after rain, flour stained clothes, a soft smile that doesn’t quite reach the eyes,
born & raised as an only child in the upper east side to thomas and rose holbrook, a pair of modern day millionaires, new money and well respected members of the catholic churtch
she was given everything she’d ever wanted, a new car when she turned 16, a replacement for when she backed into the door of their garage when she was 17..
she was an heiress, expected to inherit everything from the pair and carry on running their real estate empire
in high school dylan attended private school and her time was spent in well pressed skirts, blazers and white lies
she wasn’t the smartest, studying had never been in her forte and often abused her adderall prescription
barely made it through graduation with the help of her best friend.
begun to attend nyu, her father had an in with the admissions counselor
dylan started to struggle with her sexuality in college, she tried to keep it locked up, a secret she never intended on either acting on or acknowledging
her desires, however, couldn’t be held back and she begun a tumultuous relationship with her roommate
things were hot and cold, she could handle the physical stuff.. hooking up at parties, stolen glances in the hallways, two bodies stuffed in a twin sized bed.. but it was the emotional piece that tore her to shreds
after taking her roommate to a family event, a far to expensive gala with gowns that wouldn’t see the light of day after that day.. she was caught
her parents found her and her roommate hooking up between dinner courses and she was kicked out, left with nothing. if she hadn’t stole a few of thomas’s watches she was certain she’d be left on the streets
it was enough to get her a small place in the bronx, the rent covered for the first few months after pawning off the jewelry
got a part time job at the bakery, it wasn’t something she wanted to do at first but it soon became something of therapy for her
dylan began to find her passion in baking, cooking.. the lot. she upgraded to full time and spends more of her days either there or honing in on her craft in her studio apartment
still holds a facade that her family is fine and that she’s still a token child.. not many people know that she was kicked out.
fun facts:
only has one tattoo, sage wrapped around tulips displayed on her forearm
sucks at communication, will probably bake you something as an apology as opposed to actually saying sorry
her parents conducted business with vampires and witches alike but she was entirely too naive to make the connections, she oblivious to the supernatural world
tries to see the good in things despite all she had gone through
naive as hell and lives in a facade of daydreams where she doesn’t allow herself the space to get hurt
