jadeandgeewrite

[geeandjaywrite]

Mamihlapinatapai | | Lola + Peter

[jadeandgeewrite]

geeandjaywrite:

“We just didn’t leave things on the bestterms. When Mila came back to Monarch and you didn’t, I thought you needed space”,Lola explained. She had been terrified of reaching out and being rejected – or worse,reaching out and hearing nothing in return. “Please, you obviously preferred metelling you the plot of movies rather than watching them yourself”, sheretorted, showing her own tentative smile in response to his. She felt like theywere the only two people in the room; in the world; her attention focused on his hand holding hers. Her smilefaded quickly when he pulled his hand back, instantly missing the contact.

It was in that moment that Lola realised shehad two options. She knew that Peter pulling his hand back wasn’t the end ofthe world but there were two options in front of her. She could do what she hadalways done and let him pull away; let the possibility of them slip between herfingers; or she could chase after him. “I don’t think there’s anything wrongwith that”, Lola said softly, reaching out and taking his hand again, bridgingthe gap between them. “After graduation, I kind of lost myself too. My friendswere spread out across the country, working so hard to achieve their dreams,and I just had no idea what to do with myself. I’d never planned to reachgraduation”, she explained, gently squeezing his hand. She had spent yearswandering around the world, trying to find herself; heal herself; and maintainher sobriety. “I’m really glad we’re both here. Seriously, you have no idea howmuch I’ve missed you”.

“I did need space - from Monarch, and a lot of the people there. Not from you.” He kept his gaze steady on hers as he spoke. Lola could always tell when he was lying just by looking at him, and he knew she’d see his honesty now. “I’ve never wanted that, even on the rare occasion that I said I needed space from you. The worst times of my life all coincide with you not being there. It’s why I’m hoping today might mark the start of another good period of my life. I don’t want to say goodbye tonight and wait for someone’s 40th before we talk again.” 

He felt like he’d driven up the intensity with his words, and was happy to laugh at her response to spoiling films. “If I’m being honest, you do tell stories better than most people. I guess sometimes I liked hearing movies and shows ‘as told by Lola’ more than actually seeing them. But I hated you a tiny bit for Game of Thrones.”

He adored her even more for reaching out, something Lola rarely did in the past. He laced their fingers tightly together, and smiled at her with as much fondness as a face could show. “I’ve always told you that you’re going to do more and be more than you think you will. I can’t even begin to list the amount of things you’ve thought you couldn’t do, and then have ended up absolutely crushing. You’ve always been infinitely more incredible than you’re aware of. Seeing you tonight...I'm realising there’s probably a lot of amazing new sides to you that even I’m not aware of now.” 

It wasn’t just the hand-holding that showed him her growth and change. She held herself with more confidence, and spoke with more heart and vulnerability in their one conversation tonight than she’d showed over a lot of their relationship. Even though that sense of hurt and sadness was always dancing beneath the surface with her, Peter knew he was the same. It was always obvious to him from the day they met that being together made sense for them. He’d loved her ever since realising that, though he’d never loved Lola more than he did tonight. It left him feeling intoxicated more than any alcohol could, and twice as brave. “If you’ve really missed me, leave this party with me right now and let’s go somewhere, just us.”

[jadeandgeewrite]

L + G

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geeandjaywrite:

Even after The Alternates had gone their separate ways, Gideon had remained in close contact with Ali and Ryder. The couple flew to Texas at least four times a year to see Gideon and Ellie; in all honesty, their friendship had been an amazing source of strength when he had found himself a single father. It hadn’t surprised him when Ryder had asked Gideon to be a groomsmen; what had surprised him was arriving at the wedding and seeing Lana’s name on the seating plan. Whilst he had thought of the blonde often, especially in the first year following The Alternates breakup, he hadn’t realised that Lana and Ali had been able to put their differences behind them.

For the first time in years, he was in the same room as the blonde who had slowly broken his heart. He had told himself a long time ago that the two of them weren’t supposed to be together, yet he couldn’t deny the painful tightening in his chest as he saw Lana hug the centre of his universe. “I’m glad you like her. I was a little worried about bringing her today because I wasn’t sure if she’d have the patience and energy to last the whole day but she seems to be her usual charming self”. For a long time, Lana had been the most important person in his life and he couldn’t deny that he was incredibly pleased to know that she liked his daughter. “Oh god, I remember that look you used to get when children came up to you after shows and didn’t use proper manners when asking for a photo or autograph”, he teased.

Lana was overcome by an unfamiliar feeling as he spoke about Ellie. It wasn’t a jealousy or sadness, or at least not in it’s entirety. The closest word she could think of was longing. There were times when they’d been going well that she imagined a domestic life with Gideon, one full of kids, marriage, and curling up on the couch every Sunday afternoon. Seeing him with Ellie, as beautiful as it was, felt almost like the universe taunting her with what could’ve been. Lana couldn’t express any of that, however, so she said “Ellie is so lucky to have you as her Dad. It’s obvious how much she adores you and vice versa,” instead.

Gideon’s comment about her reaction to ill-mannered children was perfectly timed, breaking her out of the head space she was falling into and inspiring laughter instead. “Oh god, yes. I still make the same face now. Who doesn’t teach their child to say a simple please and thank you? It’s really not that hard.” She tilted her head and studied him for a moment, only briefly distracted by how beautifully he’d aged. “Now, Ellie - her manners are impeccable. I wish all my young fans were like her. Hell, I hope my kids turn out like her.” It flowed out like the rest of her sentences, but something about her last comment left Lana with a sour taste in her mouth. She quickly moved on, not wanting to let it linger.

“It must have been annoying for you when Ellie decided she was a Lana McKinnon fan. She even said she begged for concert tickets last Christmas, and ‘Santa’ forgot...You know, if you told me about her, and her excellent taste in music, I would’ve gotten her VIP passes...” she trailed off, leaving a space for Gideon to explain himself. It was obvious he’d do almost anything to make Ellie happy, so she assumed he really wanted to avoid Lana if he let the sweet girl be disappointed on Christmas.

[geeandjaywrite]

Mamihlapinatapai | | Lola + Peter

[jadeandgeewrite]

geeandjaywrite:

In her years of self-imposed isolation, Lolawould be lying if she said she hadn’t spent a lot of time thinking about Peter. Honestly, even before she had graduatedfrom Monarch University, she had spent a lot of time thinking about Peter. Hewas something of a constant in her mind, even when his presence wasn’t in herlife. For a long time, Lola had told herself that it was normal, that everyone spent most waking momentsthinking about their first love – their first heartbreak. It was normal to search for his face in a crowd, evenwhen she had no reason to expect to find him. It was normal to want to know howhe was doing; to ponder where he was; to wonder if he had fallen in love again;to want to talk to him; to miss him; to love him.

After about a year of weekly therapy, hertherapist had called her on her bullshit. Ifyou keep living in denial, Lola, you’re never going to be happy.

Lola, who had practiced denial for years,had pretended that she didn’t understand what her therapist was talking about.It took another three months until she realised exactly what her therapist wassaying. It was 3am and she should have been asleep hours ago, yet she foundherself on Google, searching for PeterHarrington. There were a few photos, most of which seemed at least a coupleof years old, but he still took her breath away. His face looked more solemnthan she remembered and after staring intently for a few minutes, she realisedit was because of his eyes. His eyes – which had always been lit up when he wasaround her, no matter the state of their relationship – were flat and listless.It was then that she realised what her therapist meant. It was Peter; it had always been Peter.

Although she struggled to admit it even toherself, the thought of maybe running into Peter again one day had been a contributingfactor when she decided to move back to New York. She had been too afraid to orchestrateanything but there was constantly a little flicker of hope; that maybe fatewould bring Peter back into her life. Now that fate had finally decided tointervene, she was terrified. Her hands were clammy, and her heart was poundingso loudly that it was threatening to beat out of her chest. As she movedtowards Peter, it felt as if the entire room parted to make way for her; thenoise quieting as the focus of her world narrowed to just one person.

“Harri”, she said, the word falling from herlips effortlessly, like it hadn’t been out of use for years. His arms werearound her before she could say anything else and she sunk into the embrace,her own arms snaking around his waist and holding on tightly. As Peter slowlypulled away from the embrace, she stared up at him, her eyes embarrassingly damp.“I was told that you wouldn’t be here either”, she said softly, struggling tofind the words as she looked at the person who had stolen her heart when theywere both teenagers; the person who, without even knowing it, had carried herheart for all the years since. “I’ve been… well, I’ve come home”, Lola murmured,hoping that Peter would understand what she meant; that she had finally stoppedrunning. There was so much she wanted to say but now she was standing in frontof Peter, she didn’t even know where to begin. “I… I thought about reaching outtoo but I didn’t know how it would be received. How have you been though? The internethasn’t told me much’, she admitted.  

As soon as she said his old nickname, something within Peter shifted like it never had before. All the coldness he’d so carefully curated melted away, leaving a self-awareness in it’s wake. They’d always struggled because of fear, or misunderstandings, or simply a lack of honesty within themselves and to each other. Peter was older now, and tired of running from Lola and the truth. When she said she was home, he wondered if she felt the same. He wasn’t sure how the night would go, but Peter knew one thing with confidence; this time he was going to give Lola everything he could offer her, and at least then if they still drifted apart, he wouldn’t wonder what he could’ve done differently.

“You weren’t sure how it’d be received?” He frowned and reached for her hand, squeezing it softly. “I can count on one hand the number of times I’ve been upset about you contacting me, and each of those times involved you spoiling a movie for me,” Peter teased, smiling hesitantly. When she asked how he’d been, his gaze turned downward in shame and he let go of her hand. “I don’t think you’d really want to hear how I’ve been. There’s nothing online because I haven’t done anything interesting. I threw myself into working after everything that happened, and tried to lose myself as much as possible.” Trying to get things back unto a more positive track, he shrugged it off and added: “I’m really glad I came out for tonight though. Seeing you again, hearing your voice...I feel the happiest I have for a really, really long time.” 

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What her balcony looks like for New Highs

[jadeandgeewrite]

New Highs || L + G

Lana had spent the afternoon re-decorating her large balcony, dangling lights and fluffing cushions until it looked worthy of an amazing smoke session with important company. She supposed the transformation represented her goals for the evening. Just as she turned her outside area into something warm and inviting, she hoped to prove to Gideon that she was warmer than she first appeared. She’d overheard him talking to a producer about how dramatic and cold she could sometimes come across, and knew she needed to change his mind. While it didn’t upset her when Ryder, Ali or Moss kept their distance, it drove her crazy with Gideon for some reason. Crazy enough to invite him over to her apartment, a place where nobody else had ever been invited.

After checking her apartment and changing outfits one last time, Lana finally felt prepared enough that she only moderately panicked when Gideon finally knocked. Avoiding the urge to change into something more revealing, Lana strutted to the entrance in her skinny jeans and sweatshirt, reminding herself that she had to feel comfortable in order to be comfortable tonight. Opening the door with a playful grin, she eyed Gideon up and down. “You must be the stripper I ordered.”

[jadeandgeewrite]

L + G

After giving Lana a quick hug, Ellie walked away from them and towards Ali, desperate to see her wedding dress up close. It gave Lana and Gideon their first moments alone in what felt like forever. It was obvious they’d both changed dramatically since they’d last spoken. Lana had worked on herself as much as possible, learning to manage her emotional intensity and flair for theatrics. It improved her friendships, bringing Ali and Lana close enough for her to be a guest at the wedding. But it never helped her reach out to Gideon, and now she realised how much she’d missed with him. Not only had he moved on, but he had a living breathing human to prove it, and his entire lifestyle was unrecognisable to before.

“Ellie is incredible, Gid. She’s so clever, and sweet, and funny! Actually funny, not in that ‘I’m laughing because you’re a kid and I don’t want to seem like an asshole’ kind of way,” she joked, her expression rather cheery for someone who expected to feel heart-broken. In an odd way, Lana was grateful Ellie was here. It took so much of the awkwardness away. “You know I’m not usually the biggest fan of children, but she’s impossible not to love. I suppose we know which of her parents she takes after.”

[geeandjaywrite]

Mamihlapinatapai | | Lola + Peter

[jadeandgeewrite]

geeandjaywrite:

After graduating from Monarch University, Lola had spent a few years aimlessly wandering. Her life – which had been planned for so long – suddenly felt like it was lacking a purpose. Her friends had all graduated and were working hard to achieve their dreams and whilst she was proud of them, she felt left behind. Lola had never planned further than the end of university because in all honesty, she had never envisioned herself making it this far in life. With her friends scattered across the country and her relationship with her boyfriend disintegrating, Lola was lost.

After years of traveling the world, living off her trust fund and processing trauma that she had spent so long repressing, Lola made the decision to return to New York. It felt right that she was finally returning home; that she was reclaiming the city that she had once loved with all her heart. Lola was tired of pretending that she didn’t miss her home. She was tired of trying to make a life in other cities because she wasn’t brave enough to face the place where her father had died; where she had lost the love of her mother forever; where she had broken Peter’s heart; where she had broken her own heart.

A few months after returning home, she accepted an invitation to a friend’s 30th birthday party. The host advised her that it would be something of a high school reunion, with former friends that had dispersed around the world returning for one wild party. A few well placed questions had assured her that Peter wouldn’t be present, something that filled her with a sliver of relief and a flood of disappointment simultaneously.

Of course, Lola’s life never went according to plan. As she was standing by the table covered in finger food, making small talk with a woman she hadn’t seen in years, she glanced up and found a pair of very familiar eyes staring at her. Peter. She had not seen her former best friend – and the love of her life, the voice in her head gleefully reminded her – since she had followed him to Hawaii in university and he had broken her heart. Whilst she had forgiven him a long time ago – knowing that she was in no position to hold a grudge after everything she had put him through over the years – she could feel her palms start to sweat and her heart race as they stared at each other. “Excuse me”, she murmured to the woman she was talking to, immediately walking away from the conversation and moving her way through the crowd until she was standing in front of Peter for the first time in years.

Peter had spent years throwing himself into business and his vices, ignoring anything that could be personally meaningful. Though not a cold man, Peter had locked his heart away somewhere even he couldn’t reach, and for a long time only spoke about work or with his family, though recently his family became off-limits as well. His parents blamed themselves for the person he’d become, and were constantly throwing business cards for therapists and rehab facilities at him. After making him hide his true self for years, he thought they’d consider finally accepting him for who he was. Instead they were more ashamed of him than ever, and eventually he cut them off without so much as blinking. 

Despite his growing lack of care for the world and love of isolation, there were some events that even Peter felt obligated to attended. Milestone birthdays were one such occasion, and that was where present Peter had found himself. The birthday boy was a close friend of his from back in the day, and while contact as sporadic as could be these days, Peter couldn’t miss such a large life event. He arrived early, wanting to get in as many of the free drinks as he could before too many old friends arrived. He knew Lola wasn’t on the guest list, and that probably made him want to drink more if anything.

On the one hand, he was grateful for her absence. It’d allow him to relax a little more instead of being on red alert for her face or hair in the crowd, and let him skip the conversations he’d spent years dreading for a little longer. Lola was just a reminder of everything that could’ve been and should’ve been in his life, and Peter refused to let his mind wander there anymore. On the other hand, Peter missed her desperately. It was as simple as that. Some remaining part of his mind knew nothing felt as good as being around her, even when nothing could feel worse all the same.

After a couple of hours chit-chatting with people who’s names he’d long forgotten since high school, Peter was considering calling it an early night. Too many people were coming to him with their Lola questions. They ranged from the simple “Where’s Lola tonight?” to the more complicated - “How did you guys reunite? You barely talked in senior year, and suddenly you’re posting selfies nearly every week half-way through college, then nothing?” “Wait, what do you mean you haven’t seen her for years?” The worst were the shippers, though - the people who screamed into his ear about how they “always thought you’d end up together in the end! I can’t believe it didn’t happen!”

One question, however, was unlike all the rest. It wasn’t even directed at him, only said within earshot by guys he’d hated during (and after) high school, but it grabbed his full attention. “Is that Lola Fields?”

Peter began scanning the room, struggling to focus on anything except finding Lola and keeping his anxiety down. He hadn’t mentally prepared for this, and being surprised with something so important while so drunk was basically torture. Despite his trepidation, Peter found himself growing disappointed with each passing brunette that wasn’t her in the crowd. As much as he hated to admit it to himself, he now knew which part of him won the ‘do we want to see Lola tonight?’ debate. He was worried that realization would be for nothing, but then he spotted her across the room, somehow more beautiful than ever.

Lola had always been special to Peter in ways he couldn’t quite verbalise. They were always more than friends or even lovers. He’d never told Lola outside of joking conversations, but Peter had always assumed they were soulmates. It didn’t make things any easier for them, obviously, though it at least helped him explain why he felt more drawn to her than anything else. Now was no exception. He began to walk towards her as soon as he realised she was doing the same, eventually meeting half-way with little more than their tension between them. 

“Hey, Lollipop,” he greeted, the nickname rolling off his tongue as a smile invaded his expression. It seemed his instincts were taking over, and before he knew it Peter was embracing her tightly, long limbs tangling around her petite form. He was sure she’d feel his heart beating heavily against his chest. She might’ve even felt the way it slowed down once he breathed in her vaguely familiar scent. “Everybody told me you weren’t coming, but I’m really glad you did,” he whispered against her hair, brushing a kiss to her forehead as he reluctantly pulled away. “I, uh...I’ve been wondering about you a lot. I wanted to reach out all the time, but I just...What would I have even said? There’s nothing that -” He stopped, his gaze growing guilty. “I didn’t think there was anything I could’ve said that would change anything, and people told me you were happy and you’d moved on, so...” His tone was casual but there was a sense of pleading to it, begging Lola to understand that things were nowhere near where he had always wanted them to be. “How have you been?”

[jadeandgeewrite]

geeandjaywrite:

Before Ace had started working at the club, Em had his routine down to a science. As soon as he had earned enough in tips, he would collect his stuff and slip out of the back door without saying goodbye to any of his coworkers. Nothing about the club was as enticing as going home for a long, hot shower and binge watching crappy reality television. That had all changed when he first laid eyes on Ace. It had taken him a few hours to realize that Ace was the newest bouncer. There was something about the way the other man was watching him that made him think Ace was a customer. It wasn’t until Ace had escorted a rude patron from the premises that Em had put the pieces together.

Since that first night, he found himself constantly aware of Ace. He could sense when the bouncer was watching him and found himself dancing with a little more enthusiasm whenever that feeling came over him. He found himself watching Ace smirk and flirt with anyone and everyone, trying to ignore the flickers of jealousy that he knew he wasn’t entitled to feel. He knew he shouldn’t but god, he wanted all of Ace’s attention on him. Tonight was no exception. He found himself fucking thankful for that drunk creep because it meant he had Ace’s undivided attention.

“That might be your best speech yet”, he teased when the problem had been removed. “I have a serious question for you. Do you practice these speeches at home or do they just come to you in the heat of the moment?” Em’s voice was solemn but he couldn’t quite contain his smile. “Seriously, I don’t thinking anyone has ever called me a masterpiece before. You’re right, though. I am a masterpiece. Seriously, my cheekbones alone warrant being immortalized in an oil painting or something“. For some reason, Em was at his most arrogant when trying to flirt with Ace – deep down, he knew it was because he was trying to prove to the other man that he was worthy of the attention. “No, I was just going to the bar for a bottle of water”, he lied. He pulled the jacket a little closer, allowing himself a few seconds to pretend that Ace wasn’t this flirtatious and charming to everyone. “I’ll give you a thank you dance on one condition – you don’t bitch about the fact that your favourite leather jacket is now covered in glitter”.

“Do I look like someone who needs to practice?” he snorted, the hand on Em’s back inching the littlest bit lower without thinking. “All of my best work is done in the heat of the moment, especially with the right motivation. I guess it makes sense that a masterpiece would have to be a muse, too.” Ace was managing to come across as calm and collected, but inside he was on red alert. He knew one look at Em in his jacket would leave him less verbose than he wanted to be, but his eyes were desperate to drink in the sight.

"Get the fuck outta here. Of course you’ve been called a masterpiece before, idiot,” he scoffed as they moved through the crowd. Up ahead was a denser area of people, so Ace let his hand grip Em’s hip as he pulled him closer - purely to avoid the majority of the people around them, of course. “People just don’t say it to your face. You should hear the things people say about you in crowds like these when you’re on stage. It makes the things I think about you seem innocent, and that’s no easy feat” he teased, leeching off Em’s burst of confidence, flirting a little harder.

“If you ever do get that painting, let a friend know. I’ve got an empty space above my fireplace that needs some love, and I bet seeing those cheekbones when they walked in would help my dates get in the right mood.” There weren’t many dates to speak of, and nobody ever came back to his apartment, but Ace loved the flicker of jealousy such small and stupid comments often inspired in the redhead. Besides, he had to act as if he wasn’t completely preoccupied with thoughts of Em outside of work. 

Ace knew the water line was bullshit. He’d seen Em counting his bills like he always did before heading home, but Ace was willing to pretend otherwise if it meant Em was going to stay longer - especially if there was a chance at a private show. He was so preoccupied by thoughts of Em’s body on display just for him for once that he almost missed the glitter comment. “You better fucking not have, Red. Glitter all over my jacket isn’t going to give of the ass-kicking vibe I’ve worked hard for,” he pointed out, ignoring his self-preservation instincts and stopping so he could face him. God, it was hard to ignore how attractive Em looked in his clothes and how possessive it made him feel. Thank God the glitter was working to distract him a little.

“For fuck’s sake, how is it already everywhere? You’ve had that jacket on for what, two minutes?” All over the black fabric were specks of every colour, shimmering brightly despite the dim lighting. With mock annoyance, he took a step closer, their bottom halves almost grazing. He’d have pressed against him completely if he wasn’t so afraid Em would feel the hard-on that was developing and go home after all. “The least I deserve is a dance, even with the bitching I’m going to do. You’ve ruined my lucky jacket, Cheekbones,” he whispered against Em’s ear. “You might as well dance and ruin the rest of me, too.”

[jadeandgeewrite]

geeandjaywrite:

Em had just finished his last performance for the night and was intent on heading to the staff room to change and go home. He had earned a small fortune in tips tonight so he decided that he’d leave early and not bother with any private dances; there was no need to tolerate anyone getting a little too handsy when he had already made enough money to cover his rent. Unfortunately, one drunk patron seemed intent on changing Em’s mind, slurring that he wanted to take him home as he clumsily grabbed at Em’s exposed flesh.

Looking around, Em made eye contact with his favourite bouncer. Within seconds, the bouncer was approaching them and Em bit at his bottom lip to fight a smile. He knew it was wrong – he knew that the other man was just doing his job – but damn, it was hot as hell watching the bouncer defend his honour, even if he was paid to do so.

While the club was busy for a Thursday night, Ace found himself with little to do. A year ago that would’ve driven him crazy, but these days he didn’t mind a slow evening. It allowed him to watch Em, and lately that’d become his favourite work activity. While everyone who worked at the club was talented in their own right, nobody had ever captivated him in quite the same way - nor inspired the same intensity of protective energy from the bouncer. It was that protective instinct that had him slowly moving towards Em and an overly eager patron long before Em flashed the ‘help, please’ look - though that look definitely sped up his pace.

Once he was close enough that the music wouldn’t drown out his words, Ace slid between the two men and faced his favourite dancer. “You know what some people just don’t fucking understand?” Ace asked, a devilish smile starting to form. “When you come to a club with men as beautiful as this place, you treat it like an art gallery...You don’t take photos. You don’t get to take the artworks home with you just because you can pay for them. And most importantly for this fuckface behind me...You don’t fucking touch the masterpieces.” In a flash he’d turned on his heels and thrust a tightly closed fist into the man’s disgustingly drunk and desperate face, watching as it crinkled in pain. Hah. Good.

It wasn’t long before the man had been escorted outside by the rest of the security team, leaving Ace standing beside Em as he stretched out his slightly scuffed knuckles. “Heading home so early?” he inquired as if if nothing had happened. As he glanced around and took in the keen gaze some of the remaining patrons had for Em, he slid off his leather jacket. “Who am I meant to protect once you go home? You know none of these other boys keep me busy like you do, Red.” Gently draping his jacket over Em’s bare shoulders, he added: “Plus I haven’t even gotten a thank you dance yet, and if you’re already all paid up for the night, I know I must be missing some real magic.”

[jadeandgeewrite]

Voicemail left on Mila's phone

You have 3 new messages, message 1: Hey, uh, it's me. Asher. In case you don't remember who me is. I know it's been a while. A long while, actually. I didn't want to call you the second Cae and I broke up because I knew you'd jump to conclusions and I wasn't really brave enough to face your wrath. It's been a few months now though and I've done a lot of thinking. Like a lot. Like if you were here, you'd be giving me so much shit for how much I've been thinking. You'd also be giving me so much shit for how much I'm rambling. Fuck, this is stup-

Message 2: Sorry, got cut off. I probably should have taken that as a sign to stop talking but you know me, I'm not very good with signs. I'm not calling to try and win you back, because I know that I lost that opportunity a long time ago. I've just been really lonely, recently, and it made me think about you; about how you must have felt when you came back to Monarch. I never said sorry for being such an asshole. I know that the window for apologies was probably closed -- and sealed -- a long, long time ago but I wanted to say it anyway, so that it's on the record. I'm sorry, Milly.

Message 3: I don't really have anything else to say. I don't know if you'll ever even listen to these messages. If I was you, I'd probably delete them the second I heard my voice. I'm not at Monarch anymore, got put on probation and then just thought 'fuck it', I'll leave. Decided I might as well travel the world; blow through the money that my father left me. I'd like to send you postcards, maybe. There's some beautiful places here that I think you should see, at least in pictures. I just don't want you to burn them.

-------------------

She spent days listening to Asher's messages over and over, trying to decipher them as if he'd spoken in code. In just three voicemails he'd managed to dismantle everything she'd been picturing about his life without her. There were few things that could make being so lonely easier, and one was imagining Ash madly in love with Cae, living the happily ever after she'd secretly always wanted for him - albeit with her in Cae's shoes. Another was knowing he was surrounded by friends and support, especially after losing his father and the opportunity to receive the approval he'd wanted from him. The world had other plans, however, and Asher had ended up as lonely as she was. It didn't seem fair.

Then again, how Mila ended up didn't feel particularly fair either. She'd left Monarch the second time even worse off than the first. There was no hope left in her heart, no opportunities for happiness lighting up her future, and not a single person who cared enough to even text or call. If not for her obsessive need to die feeling like a winner one day, she didn't think she'd still exist at all.

What a shame her early demise could've been, because she'd have died not knowing that Asher still thought about her. Probably not as much as she'd thought about him everyday, granted. But enough to call out of the blue, and god, was it a beautiful feeling at first. It almost erased how angry and disappointed she'd been. Almost.

The first day of listening to his messages was filled with bitterness, resentment, and sheer desperation for anything that would numb the previous two. Was he only calling because he was desperate too, desperate for a distraction and company? Was she the back-up plan she'd always feared she'd be? Did he simply want to absolve himself of any guilt, or did he truly care what Mila thought of him?

The second day was when the hope began to flood in, unfamiliar and overwhelming after so long. She pictured a grand reunion, something more beautiful and magical than any scene they'd performed together. Shakespeare himself couldn't write something as captivating as it would be, she thought, as she daydreamed until the sky grew dark. Would they hug, or would they kiss? Would he want her back forever, or have a night exploring everything that'd been unsaid and untouched, only to disappear from each other's lives again? What would she wear for this? She hoped he was somewhere warm, allowing for an outfit that would remind him of what he'd been missing all this time. Although the more she thought about it, the more she didn't care for the surroundings or setting as long as he was there.

By the end of the third day, Mila was feeling much more realistic - perhaps even wisely cynical. She knew there was a chance that Asher mentioned sending postcards because he was worried of her reaction, and equally possible was that he wasn't ready to meet face to face. Most of all, Mila was aware that no amount of her own thinking would give her the answers to what was locked inside Asher's mind.

With timid hands, she dialed the number that the messages had come from, and waited until she was brave enough to hit 'call' - a moment that finally came hours later in the wee hours of day four.

Message 1: Hey, it's - oh. It just beeped, so I'm guessing wherever you are that it's not the sort of time people answer their calls yet. Or maybe you're busy? I'm not really sure what you're doing while travelling, so I guess there's a million possible reasons you didn't answer. For example, I didn't answer your calls because I respected your wishes last time we spoke and deleted your number, so when I saw 'unknown caller' I obviously wasn't going to answer. We both know it's usually people trying to sell things and waste time...but not this time, I guess...I'm sounding a lot more bitter than I mean to. God, I'm rusty at talking to people. I honestly was happy to delete your number before, for the record. For all my faults back then, I really was trying to respect things with you and Cae, as hard as that might be to believe. Speaking of that, I'm really sorry to hear -

Message 2: Wow, they really don't give you a lot of time on these things, do they? I wanted you to know I'm sorry it didn't work. The only conclusion hearing that made me jump to was that...he's an idiot for ever letting you go or letting you leave - whichever it was...I suppose that makes me an idiot too, but we both already knew that, didn't we? I definitely know that, at least. Life has been shit without you, honestly. I thought it was leaving Monarch that was hard, but I was entirely kidding myself. You don't have to apologise for any of it because I'm the one that's sorry. You were going through a lot, and of course I didn't make it any easier. I, on the other hand, only have my terrible interpersonal skills and cowardice to blame. I -

Message 3: Seriously, I can't do this all over voicemails because I'm going to end up leaving about nine hundred messages and half of them won't be coherent. I thought it'd be easier not hearing you on the other end while I said all this, except that means there's nobody to cut me off, and we both know how much I draw out my monologues. I'll try and keep this part short. I miss you, Ashy. I miss every fucking thing about you, and about us. And I don't have the slightest care what version of us we are, but I need you. I'm not the slightest bit happy without you in my life, and maybe that's not fair to say, but I don't care anymore. I need you to know how important you are to me, and how important you've always been and always will be, even if you only want a postcard-based relationship for the rest of our lives. I'll take that if it's all that's on offer because -

Message 4: So much for short and sweet, hey? Hah. I um...I guess what I'm trying to say is I love you, Asher. I need you to know that too, as much as I need you to know how sorry I am for fucking everything up and being jealous and bitter and so bloody stupid. You, uh...You said once you can't be in love with me and I understand that now, and I know why you said it. The thing is that I can't /not/ be in love with you. So that's probably as much as I can stomach saying on here. I hope wherever you are is treating you well, and I'll text my current hotel to you after this in case I haven't entirely scared you off and you still want to send those postcards, yeah?...Yeah.

[jadeandgeewrite]

Texts || Peter x Lola

Lola: you can't sleep because you're thinking about senior prom?

Lola: I'll answer your question if you answer my question...

Lola: if I had asked you to kiss me instead of paying for a kiss at that stupid kissing booth, would you have done it?

Peter: Honestly? Yes

Peter: There's actually no times I can imagine where I would've said no to that question

Peter: Your turn to answer now

[jadeandgeewrite]

Texts || Peter x Lola

Lola: Yeah.

Lola: This bed feels like a cloud but I can't sleep.

Peter: I'm sorry-not-sorry that you can't snooze despite the comfort level here, because you're sort of the reason that I can't sleep and it'd be unfair if you're asleep when I'm not

Peter: I dare say I'll never sleep again until you answer this question for me, in fact

Peter: If I asked you to senior prom back in the day as a date instead of going as friends, what would you have said?

[jadeandgeewrite]

Once he realising ignoring her was futile, Jason took out his headphones and turned to face the figure that’d been following him for half a block. “Look, love. I’ve been at work since five this morning, and all I want in this entire world is to go home, take off this uniform, and pour myself a drink that doesn’t smell like sugar or coffee. I’ll take the flyer, sign your petition to save the pelicans, give you my wallet and sneakers - whatever it takes to make this as quick as possible.”

[jadeandgeewrite]

Texts || Peter x Lola

Peter: Hey, are you awake?

[jadeandgeewrite]

geeandjaywrite:

“You’re kidding me, right? I pay my management team a small fucking fortune and agree to go along with this stupid scheme of theirs and you’re who they decide to set me up with? No offence because I’ve been told you’re lovely and all that but I’ve been with some of the biggest stars around. Kinda seems like I’m slumming it. Besides, why would the public care about me dating a nobody?”

“You think I’m happy about this? I’ve heard all about you. If I was building a bad reputation at the speed you are, I’d long for my nobody days. This nobody works hard, and I keep myself out of trouble. The world might not know my name yet but those who speak of me say good things. The same can't be said for you. That’s why they paired us. They think you’re going to jump start my career, and I’ll make you appear more respectable. 

Before you continue treating me in the same disgusting way you're becoming known for, ask yourself this - why have you gotten almost every award except an Oscar? You can act your butt off all you want, that ‘I can only achieve climax thinking about myself’ vibe you have won’t ever win over the highest critiques. No offence.”

[geeandjaywrite]

If You Say So | | Ron + Ali

[jadeandgeewrite]

geeandjaywrite:

Of course, Ron saying her name remained the most beautiful thing she had ever heard. In the seven years without him, no one had said her name in quite the same way; like the letters were something to be treasured. She had many dreams that involved little more than Ronald saying her name. “I… yeah, it’s me”, she breathed, her lips daring to quirk up into a small smile.

“I should apologise for bumping into your trolley. I wasn’t really paying attention to what I was doing. My brain was a million miles away, trying to decide whether I should have a microwavable dinner or just buy a pizza on the way home. Have you done that before? Spent money on grocery shopping and then ordered a takeaway on the way home?” she rambled, unsure what to say when the love of her life was standing in front of her. If she was being honest, it didn’t matter what she bought from the grocery store for dinner; most of the items in her trolley were bottles of wine and like most Thursdays – like most nights, actually – she’d inevitably spent most of the night drinking as opposed to eating something nutritious.

That wasn’t something Ron needed to know. While Alison’s life without Ron had all been a ruse; a broken girl’s attempts at faking happiness; his life had gone from strength to strength. Despite her best attempts to ignore the fact that she had loved Ronald Fitzgerald, she found herself looking him up on many occasions. It wasn’t hard to find him on the Internet, with many articles penned about his art and just how many pieces he had sold. She hadn’t dared to look at any of said pieces, knowing that it would break her entirely if she saw another muse reflected in her work. Whilst Alison had spent seven years devoting herself to a façade of happiness, Ronald had achieved everything he ever wanted. God, she must look like a complete failure in his eyes. “How’s the family?” she asked, desperate to ask something that wouldn’t reveal just how much she had pined for him. 

Alison’s smile was timid, a fraction of what Ron knew it could be. For the time being, he was thankful. Even this small quirk of her lips was setting his nerve endings on fire. He was sure that familiar dimpled grin in it’s full glory would have made his knees crumble and his lungs collapse. “Don’t apologise. I was in my own world, thinking about the same thing. If it wasn’t for the crash, we’d probably have missed each other.” The way he spoke made it clear; he’d have considered it the ultimate tragedy not to run into her today.

He couldn’t stop a nervous and eager laugh bursting out, the echo’s of it leaving a wide smile on his face. It was a workout in itself, the act using muscles that hadn’t been used for the seven years he’d been without her. Ron hoped it didn’t sound as unpracticed to her as it did to him. “I think we both know how often I end up getting pizza when there’s a perfectly nutritious meal waiting to be cooked,” he teased, trying to remind himself not to be too casual or too relaxed. He’d destroyed this girl, and he could tell in her eyes that Alison never fully recovered. The wines she was buying encouraged that thought.

“They’re doing okay. They talk about you all the time still,” he told Alison honestly. Around two years ago he decided that if he was ever lucky enough to see her again, the biggest change would be his openness. “They miss you, and think I’m an idiot. We’ve added it to the small list of things we all agree on,” he added, stuffing his hands in his paint-stained jean pockets. They’d begun to shake a little. “What about you? How’re you doing?”

[geeandjaywrite]

If You Say So | | Ron + Ali

[jadeandgeewrite]

geeandjaywrite:

It had been years since she had last seen Ron Fitzgerald. Seven years, to be exact. They had broken up shortly after her 18th birthday, the two of them realizing that sometimes love just wasn’t enough. Their insecurities had slowly driven them further apart, too scared to reach out and close the ever growing distance between them. Both of them said that they wanted it to work out; that they couldn’t live without each other; but it turned out that it was easier to let their love fade rather than fight and potentially end up heartbroken if it didn’t work out. Cowardice was one of their many flaws. And so the two of them had gone their separate ways, her legs littered with scars and her heart in shreds, as she tried to forget about mental hospitals and stars and lazy Sunday’s lounging in bed and watching Friends. She tried to forget the way Ron looked with a paintbrush in his hand and the smirk he tried to hide when he brought her coffee in the morning and didn’t want to admit that he found her grumpiness amusing. She scrubbed at her skin until she could no longer feel his lips and hid the photo albums that Amelia made for her so that she didn’t spend her entire life wallowing in the past. For all intents and purposes, she was happy. She was 25 and she knew how to paint her face with make up and a perfect fake smile. She enjoyed her receptionist job, even if it was a little mundane, and she knew how to pretend to enjoy dates and sex with men and women that had nothing on the man that still owned her heart. Tonight, like any other Thursday night, she was pushing a half full trolley around the grocery store. Her hair was in a messy bun and she was still wearing her black pencil skirt and purple blouse from work. Distracted by the various specials on chocolate, she accidentally nudged her trolley against another. She glanced up, intending to apologize, when all the words were stolen from her mouth. Ron.

Ron Fitzgerald had always been his best self when he was around Alison, though that’s not to say Ron had ever been good enough. He’d allowed his past to define him, along with every fear he had for the future. As much as he should’ve been enjoying the present - a present that had included the love of his life and woman of his dreams - he focused on every negative. 

Eventually his fears began to eat at them, and she took half the blame as Alison always tried to. Whenever she was upset about him not being open with her, she then blamed herself for not being someone he could talk to. If she felt like Ron was being cold, she decided she’d been sensitive. There wasn’t anything he could do that she wouldn’t turn into a flaw of her own. It killed Ron to see someone who was so beautiful and so fragile tear themselves apart, all in the name of loving him. He couldn’t bring himself to break her in one swoop, so he pulled away until even she couldn’t deny the distance. No amount of trying could change that Ron had gone too far for Alison’s arms to pull him back. He’d finally destroyed their relationship, and with that himself.

In the seven years since, he’d focused on two things only. 

The first was his art. He’d become successful in the way that most artists would dream, with his critics and fans most fond of the emotion displayed in each stroke. Ron was grateful to live off his work and to be what most would consider wealthy. He also found himself a little sickened by it all, feeling as though he was paid to suffer. The fact that most of his art ended up reminding him of Alison didn’t help. Each time he saw a red dot on his pieces remarking their ‘sold’ status, he found himself wanting to scream. They were buying the only things he had left of her, and the grief would drive him to run home and paint her again. Then he’d feel like her face was haunting him, or the colour of her hair, or the slope of her neck, or whatever aspect of her had bleed into his work. So he’d put it up for sale, and promise himself not to continue the same cycle next time.

The second thing Ron focused on, and arguably the more crucial focus, was on was not killing himself. If he’d been an only child, he’d be dead to put it simply. Luckily Ron wasn’t an only child, and felt his sister’s had experienced enough already without their favourite brother’s death added to the list. While inconvenient, this constant need to protect his sisters was incredibly useful at protecting Ron too.

This was important as had Ron died on any of the many occasions he longed to, he wouldn’t be experiencing the miracle he was now. He was positive he was dreaming because as he looked up in the grocery store, his gaze moving from his hit trolley to the other shopper, he saw heaven. Or the human incarnation, at the least.

“Al? Is that really you?” he asked cautiously, scared to get his hopes up. He was scared to study her too closely even, afraid to shatter the illusion. There was every possibility he’d finally gone insane. He heard once that delusions usually represented what you wanted, feared, or needed most. For any of those categories, his would be this. It’d be her.

How odd it is, Ron thought, that Ali always seemed to be the correct answer to most of life's questions.