becoming my own self-fulfilled prophecy

[mcdesties]

HEY, i think i just saw MEERA CHETTIAR-VITELLI walking down the strip. stop by to catch up and you’ll learn the TWENTY EIGHT YEAR OLD is working as a/an CHARITY BOARD CHAIR AND FORMER BEAUTY QUEEN and lives in THE PENTHOUSE SUITE IN THE VENETIAN HOTEL. given they are PRAGMATIC but OVERCRITICAL, it’s likely that they ARE NOT a vampire. on the flipside, rumor has it that SHE'S ACCIDENTALLY CAUSED THE DEATH OF ONE OF HER STEP FATHER'S WIVES and it keeps them looking over their shoulder. i bet you can find them tearing up the dance floor to MIRRORBALL - TAYLOR SWIFT and you’ll know why they’re called THE FAKE MONA LISA. 

trigger warnings for intro : parental death

pinterest : link playlist : link

While Meera had been awarded a lot of opportunities later in her childhood, the home life left some to be desired. Her father had passed when she was just twelve, leaving her and her mother alone, while her mother's main focus shifted to raising the perfect daughter. Meera attended some of the best schools in Chennai, India and would later move onto competing in pageants, much at her mother’s request. Her mother had always held her to the highest standards, and Meera would do whatever she could do make her mother happy. Besides, focusing on pageants seemed to provide a distraction for both of them. 

Meera would eventually come to win one of the bigger pageants and went on to participate in international pageants. She wasn’t sure if this was how Augustu Vitelli had first noticed her mother, or it was complete happenstance from his travels. But her mother’s attention was equally-grabbed, and soon they were dating. 

When they were finally married and invited to move to his estate in Las Vegas, Nevada, she could tell her mother felt bad that it would require her daughter’s career to come to an end. But if Meera was honest, which she only was with herself, she was relieved. Sure, there was no denying the perks of the pageant world, but the immense pressure was so heavy to carry as a perfectionist. It seemed to only add to the pressure she already put on herself. 

Her mother always had the best intentions for her, even if they would come off harsh at times. She knew her daughter wouldn’t be judged at the same standards as others in the Vitelli family as somewhat of an outsider, only being connected by her mother’s marriage, instead of like the other children who had biological ties. Since she was a small child, she was in constant training not just be impressive but to be near perfect and this continued when Vitelli was added to her surname. 

Meera would do whatever it took to meet her mother’s wishes. Even if it seemed at times medieval, she memorized even the most particular American rules to politeness and never dared step even close to the line of a behavior that could possibly receive criticism. The criticisms would still arrive, as there was no such thing as perfection, especially when the standards were held even higher.

Still, even to the ends that Meera went to, she never felt that her stepfather ever regarded her as more than just another person in the room, much less one of his stepchildren. Throughout her young adulthood, this only resulted in her mother encouraging more impressive paths, but no matter which one she took, it didn’t seem to matter to Alister. If anything, the more desperate she looked for approval, it felt the more she became invisible.

Until there was one day he had to acknowledge her, only because of tragedy. He had been having dinner with her mother when suddenly she collapsed into her meal in front of her. No matter how quick the medical attention she would receive, it did not help the unknown blood clot that eventually made its way to her lung, causing a pulmonary embolism, that would take her life in an instant.

That day the estate had a suddenly grown a cold feeling to Meera. She didn’t feel like an outsider when her mother was there to usher her around or made a point to always introduce her daughter to anyone near her at all of their grand events. But without her, the former beauty queen felt unsure of her place, even if her stepfather told her she was welcome to continue to live there, maybe one of the nicest and fullest conversations the two of them ever had.

So, she continued her life within the Vitelli walls, already have taken on the last name when her mother did. Even so, there were times when it was difficult to feel completely part of the family, despite her continuing to follow in the path of impressing anyone who entered into the building. Soon, at any of the gatherings held at the estate, she acted as one of the main hosts, gliding around the room with smiles and questions of making sure everyone was enjoying themselves.

And that’s where she fell into the family. Meera may not have been the favorite but she would try her hardest to be the most impressive, striving for the closest to perfection as her mother had taught her. The closer she got, the closer she felt to achieving her mother's pride. Of course, holding yourself to such high standards comes with some controlling and worrisome behavior, but she has since mastered masking this as well as possible.

One of her attempts to improve the public (and familial) opinion of her was to work hard on a charity that had her heart after losing her mother. She works as a chairperson for a charity in Las Vegas that helps with funeral costs of those who have passed away in the town to suspicious circumstances, as there seems to be many, and aiding in the search for missing people at their loved ones' requests. She cares deeply for it and feels she can relate to those searching for closure or a well put together goodbye after losing her mother.

She does her best to be as pleasant to everyone as possible, even if her prudish nature can come out at times.

[wtfru--imabrat]

It had been two days since her meltdown at the wedding and she'd never realized how much could change literally overnight. She was feeling pretty worse for wear--not only about her life literally imploding but her detox was also kicking her ass. Maybe she shouldn't be such a baby--she knew it was much harder to get off of other drugs. Still, knowing that didn't make her feel any better. So when a knock came from the other side of the door and she heard her girlfriend's voice, she froze with fear for a moment. Salem was currently out at work so it was just Romi. And for just a moment, she panicked and thought about pretending that she wasn't there--not because she didn't want to see Meera but because she was far too ashamed to admit what she'd done. Why did her girlfriend even want to see her? She'd already proved that she was off her rocker--she was certain word had got around town by now that the youngest Weiss daughter had lost it. But as she sat there, looking at the door, trying to make up her mind, she could hear Meera trying to entice her outside and it broke her heart. She loved this woman so much, yet she was full of so much self-loathing for herself. Many times, she found herself questioning why the beauty queen even loved her in the first place. She had nothing to offer--especially not now.

But afraid that Meera would give up and walk away (in more ways than one), she got off her ass and padded across the floor to the door. Opening it, she couldn't even make eye contact with her girlfriend at first, looking down at her feet instead. She was sure that she looked like shit. She opened her mouth to speak but nothing came out, though she could feel the lump in her throat. She was bound to start crying. Careful to not knock the tea out of her hands, she silently enveloped Meera in a hug and held on for dear life. After all, she may not get another chance to do this once they talked about everything. The blonde didn't know how everything had gotten so monumentally fucked up but she knew that she loved Meera more than anything and if she was willing to give her a chance, she would try her damn hardest to get her shit together. She knew what Cy would probably say if he could read her thoughts--that she had to do it for herself. And she knew that. But right now, the only person that mattered was in her arms. "I'm so sorry..." she choked out, her tears now falling down her face, still standing there in the doorway, arms wrapped around Meera. "I'm so sorry for everything."

[mcdesties]

MEERA HAD ALWAYS BEEN RAISED WITH STRENGTH, just a different sort of endurance. The quiet kind, that didn't boast or show pride about perseverance, but rather consistently weathered storms no matter how destruction they caused or how strong their winds, and continued on with acting as if nothing had happened, as if her foundation hadn't been shaken whatsoever. There was no choice, her mother would often say, but to keep going with one's head held high, and there was no purpose in allowing others to take notice of your pain lest one was asking for judgment to come because of it. The first time she had witnessed it in action right before her own eyes was in her mother when her father, her biological father, had died, and Meera had done her best to mirror it exactly when she lost her mother. Somehow, she had managed to keep it together when losing her stepfather, but she had to admit her steadiness was beginning to shake a bit after her stepbrother's. It was all so much, one punch landing against after the next, and learning of the heavy battle that her girlfriend was going through sat in its own sort of category of more pain, especially if the blonde was going to use it as a way of allowing distance to creep in between them. After everything, all she had wanted was to pull Romi as close as possible and hold onto her tightly, for if she had someone else ripped from her hold, she was sure she would lose every lesson her mother had taught her and surely fall to pieces in front of everyone, the one thing she had swore to her she'd never allow to happen. The moment she had become a Vitelli, the pressure had been placed by her own living parent but the weight had been carried proudly as it meant her mother believed the former beauty queen could handle it. But truthfully, she didn't think she could, at least not alone. Not if Romi tried to hide away from her. A breath she hadn't realized she was holding exited from between her lips when the door finally began creeping open, taking a step back to allow it to open from where she had all but shoved herself against to make sure her voice carried through its material. Her girlfriend looked like a fragile wisp of herself once she appeared, and her arms opened, hands that held two to go cups within each coming back together behind her back. "There you are," she greeted softly, as if she was afraid she would scurry back away, decide not to see her were her tone anything else, but also in a first attempt to soothe the storms crashing upon the other's visage. Forgiveness wasn't something she expected her to begin asking for, struggling to pass one cup to balance two in one hand so she had one free to push blonde locks behind her ear and wipe away tears, her heart shattering in her chest at the sight of them. "Hey...hey," Her voice was breathy, never raising above its hushed volume. "There's no reason for you to apologize." At least not to her. There were heaps of understanding in Meera's arsenal for her. "I promise, kanmani. Why don't we head inside, where we can speak?"

[starstckrs]

kenny + ??? : may 30, mid afternoon @ cupid's arrow @boneyardstarters

"that clown is fucking with me," kenny thought aloud in between bites of a heavily dusted funnel cake. she hadn't even been paying close attention to who was standing beside her; her hazel-set gaze was scrutinizing the mime standing off in the distance, her whole face souring as she watched them perform a pratfall before effortlessly assuming an exaggerated frown. shudder. she forced herself to look away just so she wouldn't vomit at the idea of them coming any closer. "i bet they can smell fear like cats smell death," she said as she made generous side steps further from the clown. "i kind of want to hurl after seeing that, should we find the mechanical bull so i can spew over people and ruin everyone's day like mine has been?" what with alessandro now entrusted with the family name and titles, kenny was reasonably a bit sick over it. but the conflict she felt wasn't rooted in her desire to harness the power of the vitelli fortune. it was more so concern for alessandro, who, while she did think was a nincompoop ( and had told him this ad nauseum ), was still her brother—and the last thing she wanted was to lose another vitelli. maybe they weren't the good guys, but neither were those shit-eating weiss'. was anyone in las vegas truly good? to a girl like kenny, someone who was born and raised in such an entropic environment, there were no heroes. pale imitations of them existed, but none of it compared to the kind of bravery and martyrdom she read about in her comic books. she stopped expecting the world to be like those kinds a long time ago. and yes, it royally sucked. when she realized how pessimistic she was acting as opposed to her normal, which was painfully indifferent and couldn't have given half a shit about her family's hierarchy or the enemies they forged generations ago, she cleared her throat. "... or we can do something else. whatever you want."

[mcdesties]

PERHAPS IT WAS STILL A BIT TOO SOON to party what with all that had already happened in the year and it barely being halfway into it: multiple family members were deceased and the entire hierarchy of the family had now been shifted around again. (Quite honestly, if it wasn't so sad, it would almost be laughable how they were all arguing for that exact reason not long ago. If they had only knew what was on the horizon, Meera would have liked to think they would have all treated one another with more grace, as deserved.) But the heiress had been hiding away from the public for long enough, and were she to give herself the excuse, she feared she would just keep trying to do so forever. Why she chose such an event as the current to make such a change with was...still beyond her, but she chalked it up to hoping everyone would be a little too intoxicated to notice if she had had enough and decided to slip away back home. "Kineret, that clown is not messing with you," she reassured kindly with confidence, though when her gaze followed where the younger Vitelli's was locked onto, her nose gave a small twitch, and she wondered if she should have instead swallowed those words. Normally, she was ready to attribute such a comment to Kenny's dramatics, but this time, she wasn't so sure. "On second thought, I don't believe I quite like the look of him, either. Not that being in the splash zone for that suggestion sounds any more appealing. Why don't we find some water to help with your nausea? Or what about-" Her fingers snapped in front of her, searching for the word. "One of those frozen drinks? I thought I had seen people walking around with all sorts of colors of them. That may help you more than being shaken up on a bull. Besides, those seem quite dangerous, and...our luck has already been poor enough."

[femalegifsource]

SIMONE ASHLEY via lorealparis on TikTok (May 15, 2026)

[bcbymaria]

Where: Vitelli Mannor With:@mcdesties When: March 1997

Sleep hadn't come easily the past two days. She wasn't even sure when it did come, tears somehow turning into unconsciousness, only to be broken by nightmares of gunshots and blood; her brother's blood. Atticus had been trying to help the best he could. He held her, wiped her tears, offered reassuring words. She appreciated it for what it was: care, but there wasn't anything that would bring silence to her mind when one of the only two family members she had may have been gone. She had only just got him. She wasn't ready to say goodbye.

The media had been no help, no news was released, and her call to Meera had gone to voicemail. She left one of course, her voice hoarse and frantic, too many questions left. It wasn't until yesterday that the call had been returned. The two had barely ever spoken, Meera having so many things following the death of their father. She hadn't spoken much to any of Franco's family, actually. They were a part of Franco that felt entirely separate from her. She felt, in a way, like a secret, kept from his more personal life with the quiet shut of a door.

Meera promised some answers, though she wouldn't disclose them over the phone. Maria wasn't sure if it was a lack of trust or if she wanted to tell her in person that their brother had died. She desperately hoped it was the former. Regardless, they agreed that Maria would return home, even if just for a conversation.

The door closed quietly behind her, carefully, with shaking hands, as if any noise would disturb the grief she imagined to radiate through the house. Perhaps it was only her own, so strong it filled the space as far as she could see.

"Hello?" She called timidly, her voice perhaps too low. With swollen eyes, she looked around the foyer, legs stiffly carrying her through the space with a sluggish weight.

[mcdesties]

MEERA HAD SEEN THE BROADCAST. She would have been there in person to support were she not trying to keep some distance as to not have her own previous accusation possibly affect the public view of Franco's speech, believing it safest to supply her encouragement from afar. Calling the bloodshed jarring and unbelievable was a true understatement, and her heart had also shattered. The only difference was that it hadn't been long before the former beauty queen would receive a call informing her of her step brother's condition, that he wasn't dead as had been implied to the public, but that for the time being it would be a secret kept within the family with her and Alessandro taking over the don's responsibilities while he had recuperated and healed. That wouldn't be the hard part in her eyes. Unexpected pressure upon her shoulders was surely not an easy feat, however, she had been prepared for at least the thought of it at one point before Franco had filled their father's shoes. However, lying to those who were distraught by the false reality of his death was a tough position she was entirely unprepared for. Perhaps it would have been easier to simply to avoid it whatsoever, pretend to be too busy with the sudden changes in the Vitelli hierarchy; however, Meera had always been a bleeding heart, and listening to Maria's voicemail evoked a guilt in her that meant she simply couldn't turn a blind eye to her despair. Light footsteps swiftly carried her into the high-ceiling foyer when the dealer's voice carried through the quiet halls of the estate, unsurprised to find her looking worse for wear than she had ever seen before. "Maria, it's good to see you, even if the circumstances are...not." Her usual eloquence wasn't up to par as she needed to choose her words even more carefully than she already attempted to do in every conversation. "My apologies, we've been keeping the staff at a bare minimum at the moment or someone would have greeted you upon entrance. "Why don't we talk in the parlor, is that alright with you? It'll allow us some privacy. Can I offer you anything to drink, coffee, tea...?"

[outlcws]

with: @mcdesties where: the lobby of manor suites when: late february

Drake intended to make the impromptu meeting as discreet as a bodyguard could manage. Guile was an ineluctable partition of his job description, but playing peek-a-boo with Romi Weiss was not. Perhaps, when he had started the job as her bodyguard pushing a decade ago, he had tolerated her plummet into rock bottom because the inexperience with the outside world had plenty to offer him, and the grapes on the vine of the Weiss family held the lucrative sheen that motivated him to endure. To persevere. Maybe at one time, she reminded him of his hotheaded younger sister, and how he'd left her behind ( not Violet, who was too sweet and small when he left to know much of anything at all. ) But after serving a prison sentence in her name, and covering for her ending the life of her sister, it was getting out of fucking hand. Patience was not a virtue to him, as it was a detriment, a time-waster, and he was beginning to cut to the chase. If Romi wasn't going to be honest with everyone around her, then he would.

"Turn around and take the stairs," he suggested in a low voice, a sizable palm wrapping around the Vitelli charity board chair's upper arm and guiding her away from the elevator taking its sweet time for the door to the stairwell, in the nick of time when she had waltzed through the front entrance. The bodyguard wasn't daft — they couldn't be seen together, implications to be avoided in the wake of her father's demise and alleged murder that had her name written in red ink still, atop of the normal consequences that rode on its coattails. Once they were secluded in it, and he listened keenly for any echo upwards or downwards that indicated anyone else was with them, Drake faced her and spread his hands in a sign of defeatism. "Your girlfriend is getting out of control. I thought you should be the first to know she's off the wagon. I'm doing everything I can, but if she keeps running from me, I can't keep her safe. It's not a good time for her to be running around Vegas willy-nilly," a slight of Midwestern twang slid into his words, and he screwed up his nose to express distaste of it, "With all this going on. For all we know, the Vitellis are going to try to take out someone of the Weiss family next. You're the only one she'll listen to."

[mcdesties]

MEERA HAD AN EXCELLENT MEMORY FOR NAMES AND FACES. It was practically necessary when she was playing hostess at Vitelli events and galas, and when expected to charm anyone she had only met once or twice who would find offense were she to lack remembrance of every short interaction. On the few formal events where both the Weiss and Vitelli families were in attendance, where the former beauty queen was forced to put on a performance that Romi Weiss meant nothing more to her than being a daughter in a similar position from the opposing side, she would see the bodyguard's familiar face, though it was a rarity ever more than five words had been spoken directly to him. Curiosity didn't begin to cover what she was feeling when the request of speaking had been brought up: he didn't seem to be the type who would make such were it not of utmost importance, and that reason alone brought a sinking feeling to her stomach over what he could have to say. There was no question of what it was pertaining to, as it had to be the blonde who held her heart in her hands. Long, glossy curls covered in a silk bandana did little to truly hide her identity, as much as she had been trying ever since her own name had been in headlines in a less than complimentary way, and there was barely a movement of her head to indicate her modest nod as she walked on past him with no more of a glance, following the instructions given. If the hand on her arm was a threat, she gave no indication of fearing it, trusting in it only an attempt of being subtle in the lobby of the living quarters. Once they were alone, eyebrows scrunched together, intently listening to his complaints but at a loss on where exactly to begin with her questioning. "What do you mean, off the wagon?" Meera didn't wish to jump to the worst of conclusions that could be attributed to such a phrase, even if the sinking of her stomach gave way to that thought. "I know of no such plans, but that doesn't mean I want her to be running off on her own regardless. Where is she going off to that she doesn't want you following?" Pulling in a haggard breath, she shook her head. "I'm her girlfriend, not her director. We were evading you for some time just to see each other. What if it's...another reason such as that?" A manicured finger entered her mouth for her to teeth to worry the edge of it, an unbecoming gesture that proved her concern. "For how long has she been acting...different? I thought I had picked up that she seemed a bit distracted at the beginning the of the new year." There was a twinge of guilt at admitting so.

[mcdesties]

i wrap my problems up in duct tape and bury them in the dirt then i just put on my happy face 'cause god forbid you show you're hurt looking so good you'd never know i was not make it look so easy when i smile i might look put together, i'm as broken as you

[mcdesties]

where: shady dell rv park when: march 22nd, 1997 who: @wtfru--imabrat

"ROMI, ARE YOU IN THERE?" It wasn't exactly easy for the former beauty queen to track down exactly where the blonde had run off to after she had heard of what happened at her father's wedding, especially when Meera wasn't familiar with the RV park herself nor it's inhabitants. Actually, she had already knocked on the wrong camper before finding the correct one, the numbering of the spots old and never updated, but clearly it hadn't bothered whoever was in charge of keeping the grounds orderly. "I'm not sure if I'm the person you want to see, but...I was worried about you." And she had been ever since Romi's bodyguard had come to her to inform her of his own concerns, already having an inkling that something was off back at the beginning of the New Year but no idea how critical it was when her girlfriend was trying to shield her from it all. "I brought you tea from the cafe on the Strip...it's lavender and rose." Her voice rose at the end a bit, hoping it was a decent incentive to have her open the door, even if she hadn't wanted to see her with all else that was going on. "We don't have to talk about....everything just yet, if you don't want to, but...I miss you." And she was worried, but that wasn't a thought she wanted to plant in her head, especially not as being her only reason for being there. What she wanted above all else was just to be able to comfort her girlfriend.

[floweryttale]

Simone Ashley photographed by Pip Bourdillon.

[mcdesties]

where: the vitelli estate when: march 28th, 1997 who: @alessandroxvitelli

"I'VE ASKED JIMMY TO HANDLE ANY SORT OF STATEMENTS made to press, so at least that is one task taken care of that we don't need to concern ourselves with. I believe he knows exactly how to say a lot without giving out too many details, one skill most attorneys have, no?" It was her attempt at humor, though it managed to fall a bit flat when the current circumstances made nothing feel as if it were a laughing matter. If she thought the large mansion that the Vitelli family held in their own name felt emptier when their stepfather passed away, Franco's absence was even more noticeable from within in the long hallways. If anything, it made her feel her decision to move out before all the drama that had occurred in the last year to be the right one, even if it was partially made out making it easier to keep her relationship with Romi from being picked up on. Now the family home didn't feel the same when so many of the family were missing. "How have you been holding up yourself? I presume I don't have to tell you to make sure you're taking care of yourself while all this is going on, but I hope you are." The last thing Meera wanted was for her stepbrother to feel as an afterthought or abandoned, especially when the past had already been far to littered with such feelings. Huddling closer together had recently proven to be what the family should have been doing all along, over being at each other's throats in the name of who would lead best.

[mcdesties]

where: the vitelli estate when: march 21st, 1997 who: @deatthtouched

MEERA WAS FRAZZLED. Usually, her biggest priority was remaining as close to calm and collected no matter what was happening around her, but with fielding the fallout of Franco's witnessed death, there was too much going on than she knew what to do with. The Vitelli family didn't exactly create a space that nurtured emotions, despite the calming energy brought by Jimmy, how Kenny could get a chuckle out of anyone no matter how tense a room seemed, or the ability Alessandro had to charm just about anyone. But if there was one refuge the former beauty queen knew where to find, it was venturing to wherever the first partner of her stepfather found recluse, always a promised comfort to be found there. She knew it from the woman being the most welcoming when her mother had first moved them to the states to marry Augustu Vitelli, and it had only grown with strength in the time since. The back of her hand, also holding a mug of tea, softly rapped against the outside of Nadia's door, not wanting to be a bother and yet requiring the nurturing presence she only knew to find in one place. "I don't mean to bother you, so feel free to say if I'm interrupting." The last thing she wanted to do was accidentally push family members further away when it felt like now was a time when they should've been huddling closer together. "I brought you some tea, if you'd like it. I can't come complaining about my woes without also bringing you something," she joked with a smile, even if her eyes dropped to the floor after. "I just only came to terms with Franco leading everything, and I agree with that now, just to be shoved back into leading. And honestly, I'm not sure I'm the leader I thought myself previously to be. Even if it's temporary."

[alessandroxvitelli]

Alessandro thought the idea of Meera killing their father was absolutely ridiculous. The fact that people were actually buying into it....said a lot of the intelligence of the general population, and the police......no wonder his father had so easily run circles around them with his criminal enterprise. Honestly he was shocked no one was accusing him of murder when it turned out that someone had killed him. No one had more motive, more reason, the temperament to actually do it, than Alessandro Vitelli.

Still he decided that it would be good of him to go visit his darling sister. He knew she wasn't quite used to scandal and hadn't built his ability to just....scoff at the judgement. Grinning when she made the comment and then said that she hoped she didn't jostle him, as if Meera could ever jostle him. Lowering his own sunglasses,

"You jostle me? Never. As for camera flashes I see them wherever I go. It's just what happens when you look as good as I do. Helps that these days I am looking even better than before. How about you? How're you holding up in all of this?"

[mcdesties]

PERHAPS THE SIGHT OF HER STEPBROTHER was even more shocking than that of the light flashing in her eyes. Adjusting, as it was the only option—a lesson that had been hammered into her over and over throughout her life—her focus was put on the blonde rather than the following he accrued and yet managed to act as if merely wasn't present. The comment regarding his vanity was somehow almost comforting, as it was so expected of Alessandro that regardless of what it consisted of, it was nice that his behavior was normal towards her rather than treating her any other way. "And you are not concerned to be seen with me? Would that affect your image?" A cherished thing when eyes were upon you, and hers had never been worse for wear, and even as she still clutched onto her innocence, she wasn't trying to bring the fellow charity board member down with her. There was something kindred about sitting through all of those meetings with him, and although she wasn't sure her position was remaining empty for her return, if such ever happened or was conceivable, were it not, she did think a portion of what she would miss about holding it would be the time it allowed in each other's presence. "I don't believe my appearance has been improved whatsoever by the past couple weeks, if that's what you're asking." The lack of sleep and emotional distress certainly wasn't treating her well. "To the best of my ability," was her reply that came effortless, a kneejerk reaction to always give the easiest answer to digest, before she hesitated in saying, more truthfully, "I could be doing better."

[emmaharwoods]

SIMONE ASHLEY by Emma Beiles for the Vanity Fair Oscar Party — March 15, 2026

[gildcdwings]

If there was an area of expertise that the eldest Weiss sister considered herself a savant about, it was the art of disappearing. So much so, that it was almost difficult for Cassandra to reconcile the reality that a mere decade ago, the blonde could command a room into silence with just a few words. But ever since her breakdown and subsequent fall from grace, the heiress now operated in the shadows, at the fringe of the shady dealings that went on in her childhood home. Rooms no longer quieted in her presence—business continued as usual when she entered a room. It served her well as of late. After all, it was much easier to roam the underbelly of Sin City in disguise and privately question her loyalty to her father in the comfort afforded to her by the luxury of obscurity. Though Cass had once worn the Weiss family name as a badge of honor in her teens and twenties, the expectations and pre-conceived notions that came along with it felt suffocating in present day. She couldn't help but wonder if Meera was struggling with a similar feeling, especially with the news coverage and whispered rumors.

But before her best attempt at a cordial greeting could leave her painted brown lips, the blonde jumped back, startled by the Vitelli girl's frantic reaction to a figure in her peripheral vision. Managing her best attempt at an inviting smile, lips quirking up at the edges ever so slightly, Cass put her meticulously manicured hands up in mock surrender. "Sorry, I'm not here to hound you. I come in peace." Though the Weiss daughter had befriended a couple of the Vitelli children and associates on her own time, not to mention the widely known fact that Cassandra no longer operated on behalf of her father or his empire, she felt the need to make it clear that her intentions were pure. There was too much bad blood between their families—it felt safer to make her motivations as clear as possible. Looking around for good measure, the blonde shook her head. "No, no camera flashes. And trust me, I would know. I've been dodging reporters for years," she confessed, hoping it would operate as an olive branch of sorts. "I just saw you and... I figured you might want some help getting out of here. You know, discreetly. I can pass along my tips and tricks for getting around this city virtually undetected and unbothered. Where are you headed?"

[mcdesties]

EYES WILD LIKE A STARTLED PREY ANIMAL, the initial threat was neutralized as soon as it was Cassandra Weiss she recognized standing before her in all her blonde haired glory. At least the threat of the press or anyone who thought possible entertainment could be found in trying to get a word out of the suspected murderer would offer up guilt or defensiveness if approached, though, in her mind, they were practically one in the same. It was why she was attempting to keep her mouth zipped shut, only the most expensive and prestigious lawyer earning anything on the topic out of her besides fear sparkling in her eyes over what her own future possibly looked like despite years of hard work. Her mother had always taught her to keep her head held high through anything and everything, as it was the best way to achieve and remain in custody of one's respect, but Meera wasn't sure her mother ever pictured such as advice being required in the face of murder charges. Actually, it may have been a blessing that her mother wasn't around to see the current circumstances unfold, as she probably would have been put in a grave at the news reports dragging her only daughter through the mud.

Cassandra seemed just as surprised as she did from the jumpy nature that had wracked her unstable nerves for what seemed like too long, unable to relax as she seemed constantly flooded with cortisol at any given moment. Forcing a small smile to her face, one that was at least half genuine compared to anything worn since the passing of her stepfather, she didn't want to ruin or allow to pass a moment that could finally be spent with someone who was friend rather than foe (or be alone, as she had spent far too much time recently). I come in peace. "I could use more of that these days." It was meant with jest but there was a ribbon of truth threading through it. "I fear they manage to get craftier with it as time passes, or perhaps I have gotten worse with handling it over the years." Maybe it was foolish to feel more at ease around someone from the Weiss family, but the person she had fallen in love with shared the same last name, leading Meera not to lead with any judgements. Besides, her own family seemed to be at odds with each other after the death of their father, so what did a surname truly mean? "Some advice would be wonderful. I was actually on my way to find a restaurant without so many windows. Would you like to join me for lunch and divulge me in all your best trade secrets? My treat, for sharing all your trade secrets."

[starskipplng]

He's not on duty - thank god. Because Arjun's reaction while on the clock to this jumpy woman would've been far different to how he is without the stuffy suit on. He stands at 6'4", dark hair down that matches his scratchy beard. But his strong brow and somewhat perplexed look doesn't match the brighter clothing he's wearing. Orange and greens on a collared shirt with a warm umber jacket over it.

"Do I look like a photographer or journalist or anything like that?" He wishes. Sometimes his looks get him into trouble, mostly because of his size. Hard to hide when you're a big guy with a beard and long hair, towering over most of the people you guard for.

One hand tucks into a coat pocket, but the other is holding a coffee, which he uses to sort-of gesture at the bushes a little down the way. "I didn't, nah. But there's always some weirdos hanging out near those bushes, trying to stir up trouble. Wouldn't be surprised if it was one of them... they botherin' you?"

[mcdesties]

SHE NEEDED TO RELAX, that much was obvious. But Meera wasn't sure she could remember a single day in her life where she had truly been at ease, as even the memories that should have brought her peace, such as her mother braiding her hair, were clouded with the pressure of upcoming pageants or impressing potential stepfathers or any sort of expectation of her performing at her best. And that was without the added weight on her shoulders that anyone she looked in the eye of could believe she was murderer, of the man who had taken her into his family even after the passing of her mother no less. It made her fidgety, it made her want to scream her own innocence from rooftops, even if she knew such disclaimers would only convince some of the exact opposite. Her intention wasn't to startle the person she had incidentally accosted, though the response took her off-guard. "Is that a trick question?" Her immediate answer would have been no until she tried to think on exactly what a reporter or pesky journalist did look like. Perhaps it was her already paranoid thoughts or the warnings she had received in the recent days, but Meera was quickly realizing she couldn't take anything at face value anymore, maybe not even her own family. Her eyes followed where he had gestured from behind her sunglasses, nodding. "I appreciate the warning. I'm not sure my heart could take someone jumping out at me." Clearly, as she was jumpy enough just from stepping onto the crowded sidewalk. Her lips pressed into a thin line, before she nodded once more, admitting, "I'm not used to such attention." At least, not on her own terms or in way where she had some sort of control. "And there's not a thing I have to say for their record, that I even can say."

[wtfru--imabrat]

To put it simply, Romi felt as if she was hanging on by a thread lately--or rather, a few threads. And one by one, they were all threatening to snap. The more days that passed, the more she started to believe that as cutting as Sev's words were, they really did ring true. Peter was just stringing her along, getting her to do his bidding, promising her a future that was never going to come to fruition. And more and more, there was a part of her that just wanted to fucking quit. She was envious of Petra in that way--but could she leave Cassie behind? (After all this time, they were finally starting to become friends). She was clinging onto her sobriety as if her life depended on it--because, frankly, it did. And there were days that she wanted nothing more than to slip back into the haziness of getting fucked up and forgetting everything else, especially in the past few weeks. As quickly as her mother had come back into her life, she'd vanished again. It had left the blonde feeling emptier than ever. Perhaps Petra was right to be angry at their mother for deserting them. And she was right to hate Romi.

Just thinking about the blood that was on her hands made her want to call up her old dealer. And honestly, the only reason that she wasn't doing that was standing in the same room as her. The only decent human being at this stupid fucking party was just down the hall--Romi had felt the relief flood through her veins the moment she saw her lover walk into the room. But shit was fucking complicated so as much as she wanted to, she couldn't just simply walk up to her girlfriend and hold her close. She had to wait and pretend to make idle prattle, all the while trying to resist the urge to take her in her arms and kiss her like she did when they were alone. Finally, they had an opportunity. "Always good to see you," she said with a wry smile, waiting for the stragglers to leave. However, when they were finally alone, Meera's question took her by surprise.

Are you feeling alright, Ro? You appear...distracted. She wanted to lie. That was her immediate instinct. But she wasn't supposed to lie to Meera. She'd already kept so much from her lover, afraid that the truth might horrify her. After all, Meera was the kindest person she'd ever met. How she managed to love Romi was really astonishing to her--not that she'd ever say that out loud and risk looking as if she were fishing for encouragement. Giving a small smile, she said "Things have just been really...hectic lately, that's all. And I've missed you." Not being able to help herself, her hand reached for Meera's, giving it a small squeeze. She wanted to kiss her right then and there but surely, they could find a more private room first--they couldn't risk being seen together, not with so many important people at such an exclusive party.

[mcdesties]

THE UNFAIRNESS THAT SURROUNDED THEIR relationship was a detail Meera had long come to reluctantly come to accept—it was a simple fact that they were forced to be shrouded in secrecy by the circumstances they were born into, or rather for the Vitelli half, married into. Anyone who was on the outside could have offered the suggestion of leaving it all behind, a newfound freedom for the pair if they broke their restraints, but there were details in a life of crime that would make such difficult, or even deadly, with potential targets put on the back of their heads from simply trying to walk away. (Plus, there was the added fact that both harbored pieces of themselves that didn't want to leave what they knew behind in such a way.) It was exceedingly complicated in multiple ways, with the only simplicity about it being that no matter what their convoluted future consisted of, the former beauty queen loved Romi too much to ever consider walking away. But the distance forced between them by not being able to openly approach made a situation such as this even more complicated: she could tell the blonde was dealing with something and all she wanted to do was immediately run to her side and do all that was in her power to resolve it, even if the answer wasn't one she held in her own back pocket. Instead, she was forced to wait for her chance to find an opportunity or even to seek one out herself as allowed, all the while fretting over the unknown of what was resting upon the mind of her secret lover.

The smile hadn't reached her eyes, that much Meera could tell, and it wasn't just the play pretend they were putting on while waiting for any possible onlookers to pass by. Her hands took Romi's in her own when she reached for them, grasp upon her fingers gentle and cherishing that she had the chance now to do so when there was plenty of times when she wished to but couldn't. It was written all over her face that she was unconvinced by the vagueness her question was met with, perfectly shaped brows furrowing as the worry she was feeling hadn't been lessened. "What's going on to make it all hectic? You don't have to concern yourself with any reason not to tell me." It didn't need to be said aloud that she could never even perceive to do anything with that information other than to try and rectify the stress upon her shoulders. The sentiment did have her painted lips curling up at the edges, though, dissolving the concern that had overtaken her features, especially when she was searching Romi's for any clues her words didn't provide. "I missed you, too. I always do when I'm not with you, even when we're in the same room, at the same party." Her eyes didn't wish to leave her girlfriend's, but they did look once to the left and then the right, before her hands gave a tug in an attempt to whisk her away to somewhere else. "Let's find somewhere more private; you can tell me more there. This party is terribly boring anyway."

[mybodywakesup]

WLW GIF MEME: ↳ [10/10] relationships ► lucy/amy (d.e.b.s.)

[mcdesties]

@wtfru--imabrat