·̩̩̥͙**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ 𝓙𝓞𝓛𝓔𝓝𝓔 “𝓝𝓔𝓛𝓛𝓘𝓔” 𝓓𝓤𝓥𝓐𝓛𝓛 ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*·̩̩̥͙
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@nellieduvall
·̩̩̥͙**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ 𝓙𝓞𝓛𝓔𝓝𝓔 “𝓝𝓔𝓛𝓛𝓘𝓔” 𝓓𝓤𝓥𝓐𝓛𝓛 ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*·̩̩̥͙
✩ 𝓲𝓷𝓽𝓻𝓸 ✩ 𝓹𝓲𝓷𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓮𝓼𝓽 ✩ 𝓶𝓾𝓼𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓼 ✩ 𝓿𝓲𝓼𝓪𝓰𝓮 ✩ 𝔀𝓪𝓷𝓽𝓮𝓭 𝓬.
crmsns·:
@nellieduvall· // after an unfortunate lifetime sharing this vacuum of a town together, christian would recognize that blonde head anywhere. it was a tragedy, truly. feeling bored and, for once, playful, he lobbed a ping pong ball right at the top of her head…then missed. sports were never his strong suit. second time proved the charm, though, and the next ball hit nellie square on the back of the head. “oh sorry,” he said in the least apologetic voice known to humankind. “i thought you were the beast.”
Only thing saving Christian in this instance is that Nellie’s deep into a chat she’s zoned out of, practicing the good ol’ smile and nod, and every time she tries to get a word in the couple just gets louder. Taking about video games, and what have you. Nellie doesn’t care about video games, Princess Peach is a fashion icon. She’s five seconds from just walking off when something small and white flies by her peripheral. She turns to look but then something else hits the back of her head, and she’s a little out of it, so for a second she doesn’t know what in the holy hell just happened. “Did you just throw something at my head?” Like, she’s still doing the math. She looks down at the cups and ping-pong balls, and then back at the culprit. “You must be real bad at pong. I’m talking, last pick in gym class bad." Her hand sits on her hip, "Christian, beasts don't wear heels." Duh. "And am I getting lip from a boy who ain’t even wearin’ a costume?” She’s 100% sure Christian came as himself.
AIMEE LOU WOOD Photographed by Mollie Rose For Glamour UK
scnteria:
IN THE MOST conceivable way, there’s something about nellie that truly transports you to a different world. granted, being someone who hasn’t left illinois for an extended period of time, it kind of makes sense that teddy looks at the girl with the southern twang like this enigmatic entity. it’s only natural that he feels as if he DISCONNECTS from reality when he speaks to her. it’s when she chirps his name out of nowhere that he lifts his head quickly from staring down at a piece of receipt paper with a bunch of superman s doodles all over it. he smiles as she asks him not to laugh– it’s not a promising start on his end but he’s amused, to say the least. "okay…“ he trails off, brows furrowed in the slightest as he sets his pen down.
he moves to the front of the cashier counter and hops up on the surface, legs swinging in front of him and hands folded in his lap as he listens to her. he can’t let the question stick for as long as it would otherwise like to— he can’t keep getting hung over anything vaguely death-related. gaze darts to the windows at the front, which have fake cobwebs and a few jelly window stickers on display for halloween. that’s it, right? that’s why she’s asking. it’s halloween. DUH, teddy. "uh…” he cocks his head to the side. "i think i believe in ‘em.“ for better or for worse. "i think i saw one when i was younger. why? what, uh–” he lifts a hand and scratches at the back of his head, under the beanie he’s donning. "you see one or somethin’?“
Nellie’s been mulling over whether or not she believes in ghosts, or if Jesus believes in ghosts, or if her Pa would think it’s impractical. Nellie can’t tell if she’s more or less out of place than when she started at Volume, but she’s definitely more aware of her place than a year back when she didn’t care and the gig wasn’t permanent. Against her own will, she’s been caring more and more about what her coworkers think of her. Teddy never really makes her feel that way. He’s never given her a reason to worry; she’s never had to overthink herself around him. He smiles the moment she asks him not to laugh and it presses her pout into pursed lips, a stubborn smile of her own making its way through. “Said not to laugh, Teddy.” But it’s better this way, him perching on the counter and swinging his legs, an audience of one. The playfulness makes things easier for Nellie to talk about, some of the nerves that weighed her easing out with a dramatic sigh.
“Yeah, you think so?” Nellie asks wholesomely, her chin tilting from across the shop eagerly. There’s humor in Nellie’s utter obliviousness to what Teddy’s seen, to what’s been plaguing him. “Well, I’ll be!” Her round eyes widen with intrigue, covering the bottom half of her face with the vinyl like she’s shocked or keen. “You oughta tell me the story now since ya brought it up.” Nellie’s childish whimsy settles a bit when the question’s spun on her, her gaze and the vinyl lowering in unison as she thinks. “Dunno, I think so, maybe...” Her eyes flicker back to the counter he’s comfortable on, “how do I know?” Nellie shifts her focus to the shop window, the Halloween decor and the passerby in the streets. “Alls I know is somethin’s been out of kilter lately---and it ain’t that funky looking spider web on the doorframe.” She walked right into it Monday and it took the whole first half of her shift to finish pulling polyester out her ringlets. She scowls at it, like they’re enemies or something, before looking back at Teddy expectantly.
Miss Congeniality (2000) dir. Donald Petrie
@nellieduvall
oofkemal:
“ howdy. ” kem mimics flatly, a small stiff wave of his hand. “ uh, yeah, i was but i’m… not really feeling it. ” kem answers simply before he’ll brush through his curls with his fingers. he doesn’t necessarily think nellie’s one to pry into his personal life so he doubts the vagueness is an issue here, but he also doesn’t want to be acting obviously off in a way that changes that assumption. “ everything’s fine, though. nothing to worry about. ” he reassures, or lies, depending on whether he’s referring to the shop or himself in his answer. he’s lost track of what he’s talking about in so many conversations recently. he keeps thinking about being in that pond with max and how tempting a thought it is to remain beneath the water where nothing else exists. “ were you heading there ? ” he honestly can’t remember if she’s in today and he’s the one who makes the damn schedule.
Nellie would’ve asked him to say howdy with a little more feeling, if she was feeling it herself, but she’s too high strung over the fact that the walkman she borrowed isn’t working anymore and she’ll get an ear full if it doesn’t start playing right now. Instead her brows knit only for a second at Kem’s response, but she isn’t suspicious enough to be all that suspicious. And given what’s going on lately, not feeling it is the new ordinary. “Okay then.” Nellie would ask more questions about who’s at the shop if she cared about who’s at the shop. “Long as nothing else is burning.” She says half interested, focus back on inspecting the walkman in her hand. “No way. Worked yesterday, thank you very much.” She doesn’t look up at him when she responds, and doesn’t even think about how he should know that, half because she’d forget the schedule and half because Nellie doesn’t think Kem cares all that much about when she’s working anyway. It’s about that point in the conversation where they awkwardly part ways, but instead Nellie glances up and pushes the walkman closer to Kem’s stomach. “Do you know anything about these thingamajigs? Think it’s like, broken. I didn’t do nothin’ to it, swear.”
martytsui·:
🎸
marty’s boredom during a shift is as expected as it is fucking infuriating. though, if they were to truly think about the situation she and the rest of the high volume employees find themselves in, marty might even be grateful for the slowness that has become a part of their day-to-day life lately. alas, that’s not how their brain works and if they feel bored at a particular moment then anything that could kill that mood would be welcome. thankfully, it’s not a ogre-looking man that comes to them this time but rather the one and only nellie duvall. “hey,” marty greets though they can’t help but furrow their eyebrows at the whole… vibe nellie has got going on, somewhat confused as to where it’s coming from. marty raises their eyebrows after nellie is done talking. “why are you whispering?” marty says, in a whisper, more so to tease her. then, they chuckle, shaking their head and, this time, they speak in a normal tone. “…the fire? you know you can say it. it won’t like… reignite a new one if you say it three times or whatever. didn’t know nellie duvall was looking to get drunk during a shift. is it my influence? please, tell me it’s my influence.”
“Oh.” Nellie’s back straightens a bit at Marty’s question, her eyes drifting in contemplation before realizing she doesn’t exactly have any answer to that. It’s not like they had a boss to reprimand them if they were drinking on the clock. Maybe she just wanted to feel like she was doing something sneaky. “Guess I don’t really know.” She bounces back in time for Marty’s little chuckle, matching them with a silly smile. “I mean, yeah, duh I know I can say it.” Nellie rolls her eyes, just because she can doesn’t mean she wants to. “But it’s like taboo, y’know. And you mean to tell me you’re not superstitious or nothin’?” Nellie’s gullible enough to believe anything might happen under the right circumstances. It’s partially Marty’s influence, with all the little challenges they do when they’re together, but there’s a boat load of other influences stacked high that Nellie rather not think about. Hence the stash. “Oh, totally your influence.” Nellie’s teeth peek out through a cheeky smile before sighing and looking around the shop. “And like, no one’s been in for a whole half hour.”
outsldcr·:
ethan smiled slightly, his lips quirking up at the corners. of course, dolly parton. who else would nellie be inspired by? ethan didn’t listen to much of her music, considering it was worlds away from the genres he preferred, but what he had listened to was great. jolene, especially, was one of his favorites. “if you liked it, though, maybe you should give it another shot,” he suggested before he could really think about it. for years, he hadn’t understood most of the people that worked at high volume. music wasn’t something he thought much about or cared about at all, really. but learning guitar and starting to write lyrics because of the band had awoke something in ethan, something he hadn’t known he was missing. he wasn’t sure he would consider giving either up just because it was callousing his fingers; but then again, he wasn’t nellie.
“me? oh, no,” he laughed awkwardly, hand reaching up to rub the back of his neck. “i mean, i’m sure you’re great,” he covered, a second away from blurting out that he’d only just started to learn to play in the last few months. “and if you ever wanted to get back into it, or whatever, maybe…” was ethan going to do this? he felt like he might throw up if he tried to finish the sentence, but he also felt like he might kick himself if he chickened out now. but - was he ready to let nellie hear him play? the logical, rational side of him was screaming that he definitely was NOT ready for that, but when had he ever listened to that side of himself when it came to his crush on nellie? if he did, he wouldn’t even be in a fake-turned-somewhat-real band in the first place. “uh, we could jam sometime. or something.” well, it was out there now. nothing he could do to take it back. so, he had to get it together and handle it, whatever he response was.
worst case scenario, he faked being sick and called talia or mack to cover his shift. and then begged to never be scheduled with her again.
ethan glanced back down at his closed notebook, not yet ready to show it to nellie. hell, he wasn’t ready to show it to anyone yet. ethan is working up to mack first, then talia and josie and nisa. if all of them think it’s okay, then it goes to lex, and then to his parents, and then maybe some of the other employees at high volume, and then and only then, nellie. it just had to be perfect first, or as close to perfect as he can get it.
he was a bit confused at first, until he realized she was joking; ethan laughed a beat too late. when she asked about their music, he felt his shoulders relax slightly. this, he could do. they had figured out what sort of stuff they liked awhile back, and so this was slightly more familiar territory for him. “we do pop rock.” he himself preferred punk, but he didn’t mind the slight shift in genres to accommodate the rest of the band’s tastes. especially considering he was only able to sell the lie thanks to them entirely. “as for lyrics and stuff, uh. well.” he paused, giving himself a moment to think about how to put it.
“it’s a bunch of different stuff, really. some of it’s about, like, people and relationships and stuff. and some of it’s just about life, i guess?” that was an incredibly vague answer, but it was hard to sum up exactly what he wrote about, because he tended to write about everything. not everything made it into a song - in fact, 99% of his book would never actually become lyrics - but all of it got scribbled down and meshed together. lines about his friends, his family, the asshole who hit a puddle and splashed water all over ethan while he walked to work the other day, all of it went into the book just in case. some things were happy, some angry, some both. ethan wasn’t sure where it would all end up yet, but he was doing his best to come up with something good that wouldn’t get him laughed at. “sorry, that sounds dumb. it’s just hard to put it all into words, y’know?”
Nellie’s brows knit only slightly as Ethan stumbles around his cover story, but since she’s gullible and too trusting he’s still in the safe zone. She hasn’t considered once that he’s new to music, because she doesn’t really know Ethan. Hell, she barely remembers when her Mama made her stop by his house in high school to drop a pie off. Some southern substitute for condolences and a poor attempt at her father making his rounds in Woodstock, trying to get the community to like him. Nellie never really knew Ethan, doesn’t really know him, and considering she spent most of her life in a pink bubblegum bubble of Woodstock’s elites up until recently, her old girlfriends would have steered her away from ever talking to him. But things are different now. Her father’s making enemies out of shopkeepers in town. Her old friends don’t even look at her when they pass by. But Ethan does.
So, she believes him, even if he’s a little weird with the awkward pauses and the journal hiding. She’ll be blind to it for the sake of being in the music video, which is about the only exciting thing she can be peppy about lately. And as a person who thrives on peppy, Nellie will take her excitement where she can get it. “You’re sure I’m great?” She cocks an eyebrow teasingly, as if she might take some offense even though she just said she’s out of practice. She’s not sure where he’s going with things, but when he offers for her to come play and hang out with the band she feels relief rise from her shoulders.
Since feeling lately like people don’t like her Pa, and therefore don’t like her, and also don’t think she belongs there (which she doesn’t, in her opinion) it’s nice to have someone want her around. But then she thinks about how it’s Ethan, and she can hear her old friend’s voices in her head, and she thinks about how she felt when she first got to Volume: a little peeved, definitely out of place, and with no interest to be friends with anyone there. And now here she was, a little excited someone wanted to play music with her? “Think I’ll have to see if I’m busy or not. And if my ol’ girl needs new strings.” She sighs lightly with an airy smile, still stuck in her own head of who she used to be and who she is. “But you should let me know when y’all are performing.”
She considers ending the conversation, feeling a little existential, but when Ethan starts talking about the songs he writes she tilts her head like a puppy as she listens. “That ain’t dumb.” She says flatly. It’s like, kinda dumb, in the way that Nellie still has no idea what he writes about even though he just told her 10 different things. But when he dismisses himself and calls his stuff dumb it reminds Nellie of what she knows people have said about her, that she’s dumb too. “More than me, I only write songs about Butterflies.” She jokes.
Her Mama groomed her into being in the spotlight but when Nellie started taking music seriously her father told her to get a serious career, to go to school. Only thing that ever kept her going was never saying it to herself. Doesn’t want Ethan to do it either. “Yeah, I know.” A soft smile meets her lips before her eyes drop to his journal, and she hums while reaching for her pink pom-pom gel pen in her little purse with a sudden change of heart. She comes up to him just enough to lean and catch the corner of his page, neatly writing a phone number down in girlish script. “That’s my landline.” She clarifies, not her cellphone. “For when you wanna jam together.” Her wide eyes twinkle sweetly before pushing off the counter and heading back to work.
𝓗𝓐𝓛𝓛𝓞𝓦𝓔𝓔𝓝 '𝟫𝟫
𝓃𝑒𝓁𝓁𝒾𝑒 𝒹𝓊𝓋𝒶𝓁𝓁 𝒶𝓈 𝓟𝓡𝓘𝓝𝓒𝓔𝓢𝓢 𝓟𝓔𝓐𝓒𝓗 (stitched by nellie)
oofkemal:
as she’ll fire back at him there’s a lift of his lips, a soft nod following. “ alright, i’ll never wear that. only ‘cause you said so. ” if anything, this conversation is going amazingly well since he’s already got out of that. maybe she’s just easier to talk to when there’s a potential safety net of her not even remembering. or maybe he just doesn’t care enough tonight to keep his distance. not that he would when no one else is here, anyway. “ oh, no, we’re really close. good pals. ” kem continues, his own grin subtle but rising with hers all the same. it would surprise him more if she did get him, but truthfully, he doesn’t really get her, either. still, he doesn’t think they’re complete opposites, they have the ability to see eye to eye and get along.
“ alright, good. ” he scoffs a little, some form of a laugh escaping in the breath. not that kem thinks alcohol is much better, especially when she’s in the state she is, but it’s one less thing to consider. “ opinions change, you know ? ” really he just doesn’t want to say a bad thing, the wrong thing, even. though it’s not like mascara and glitter take away from the fact she’s beautiful. “ i was mad, ” kem answers honestly. he does sorta think her dad’s terrible, but his is, too, and he’s sick of hearing it about his own that he’s not going to say it about hers “ but he was only trying to protect you. could’a maybe done it differently, but i get it. ” and even if he’s not entirely sure she’ll remember this, kem’s not going to start berating her father to her face. unlike someone like reyna, which now she’s been mentioned, it wouldn’t surprise him if she’s why nellie’s so down tonight. “ and it doesn’t really matter what anybody thinks, your dad’s your dad. ” kem can only guess all the shit people think about his own father, how half of it will be twisted as is makes it way around the town. “ so it only really matters what you think. ”
“Yeah, yeah good!” Nellie's not entirely sure what they’re on about anymore, but her brain clips onto ‘cause you said so, so she’ll run with it. Nellie’s pretty certain she’s in a bad mood. Or at least, the kind where she wants to be in a bad mood so she’ll hold onto the hurt she’s feeling. As if she doesn’t think she should feel any better, but when Kem’s subtle grin matches her own her inevitable pout is delayed. She holds onto the grin a little longer before shrugging carelessly and blowing a raspberry in defeat. “The sheriff’s got a real bad haircut.” Her loose limbs rising and falling dramatically as she shrugs. “And real booty breath. I’m talking like, super yuckmouth.” She exaggerates, “And he’s always pickin’ his wedgies, you know.” She rambles unconfirmed falsehoods, looking over at Kem with her wide eyes and a sloppy smile. “No offense or nothin’. Don’t know why you’d wanna be friends with someone like that.”
Hugging her knees, her eyes drop at opinions change. Her opinions of workers at Volume have changed over the past year. Hell, over the past few hours. She’d say minutes, too, but Nellie’s never really understood her opinion of Kem. She can’t call him a liar though, because something changes as he keeps speaking, even if she’s not sure what it is. She’s not expecting Kem to defend her Pa, or try to understand him. If she’d stopped crying at any point it’s ruined by red eyes and a sniffle. “Whoopsie.” she mumbles as her palm rubs roughly past her nose. “Mama always says I’m a water-head.” She pauses, head cocking like a puppy, “Or a water bed....?” Talking to herself, “No, definitely a water-head.” Her eyes flicker up in time to catch the rest of his advice, and her brows knit like he’s got something on his face. “You’re different, you know that?” A tear passes her cheek and she doesn’t know how to say thank you, so she settles for something better. “If you were a Carebear, think you’d be Take Care Bear.” She pushes a smile. Overly cautious, values his friends, always makes it his business to keep everyone in one piece. Nellie doesn’t explain herself, too drunk, just giggles. Easily distracted, she looks behind them at the crowd still partying on, and she doesn’t feel like she belongs here. But she does feel better. “Think I’m gonna go home ‘fore anyone else sees me crying.”
Nellie hasn’t really had a drink since Dreamscape left a sour taste in her mouth. Well, that’s a lie, she’s been babysitting bottles of wine in her bedroom for weeks, but she doesn’t get plastered at home the way she did when she was a little younger. Not after what happened, anyways, on account that she don’t want Pa having another reason to ruin her life. Sometimes she thinks about how if he never did cut her off she wouldn’t have started working at Volume, wouldn’t have got caught up in all this mess. But any way she looks at it, it’s still her own fault. “Hey.” Nellie says in a girlish whisper, pushing a smile to her lips when she circles around Marty and comes up close like she’s got a secret. “You still got that stash laying around?” Nellie’s never gotten drunk on a shift before, but there was a closing where she took a swig of whatever Marty was holding just to prove something. She could use a drink right about now. “Hope you ain’t lose it to the...you know.” Her eyes widen and her head bobs like saying “fire” is taboo. @martytsui
“Teddy...” Nellie looks over slowly at him by the CD stacks, wide eyes nervously trailing the rows of vinyl she’s restocking until they land on him skeptically. “Got a question for ya.” She feels the need to announce it instead of just diving in, mostly to stall, because she thinks he might laugh at her. Nellie can’t name a single person at Volume who might take her question seriously. Except maybe Josie. And Mack, too. Well, actually, probably Kem now that she considers it. Not because she thinks he’ll agree, but because he always says the right thing. And, you know what, may- “Don’t laugh or ‘nothin, though, be honest, okay?” She nearly pouts, manicured fingers tapping the back of a record. “Do you believe in ghosts?” Because she’s pretty sure someone’s stalking her and it ain’t anyone she’d like to stalk her, like Nick Lachey and the rest of 98 degrees. @scnteria
outsldcr·:
there was a reason why ethan barely talked to nellie - he knew he was going to screw it up. he couldn’t help getting tongue-tied around her, an unfortunate side effect of his crush on the perky blonde. she was everything he wasn’t: bubbly, unapologetically herself, and seemingly endlessly confident. it’s drawn him to her like a moth to a flame on and off since high school. the biggest breakthrough he had ever had with talking to her led him to creating a fake band, a lie he was now working his ass off to sell with the help of talia, josie and nisa. and it was just…it’s a lot of pressure to be someone she might find even a little bit interesting. ethan felt like he wasn’t going to be able to be that.
he stared at her, leaning still against the counter with his head turned to face her. that surprised ethan a bit - he actually hadn’t known she was ambidextrous. it made sense, though. what wasn’t she capable of, when she set her mind to it? although the story made him a little bit sad. having to change just to fit the pageant world’s expectations couldn’t have been easy. “you play guitar?” he asked, redirecting the subject instead. ethan hadn’t known that either - that made his lie even less convincing, he was sure. while the lyrics were coming easier, the guitar was still rough. “oh, um,” fuck, why had he brought the band up???? ethan briefly considered making a run for the breakroom, coming up with some dumb excuse to get him out of this situation, but forced himself to stay put. “it’s just some lyric stuff,” he shook his head, moving the closed notebook even further away from her. “nothing worth seeing yet.”
Nellie’s got a short attention span to begin with, so him skipping to the part of what she said that interested him the most doesn’t catch her off guard or rub her the wrong way. If anything, she’s the type to do the same, clip onto one thing in a conversation. Fixate. “Can’t learn every Dolly song in the book without knowing how to strum.” Somehow talking about this makes her smile, saying it like it’s a given. “Don’t play like I used to though. I just...well I dunno really, just haven’t had time I guess. Didn’t like what it was doing to my fingers.” She stretches her hand out and checks on her pink-tipped manicure. Picking up the guitar again meant having to deal with new calluses. “I sure miss it sometimes. Bet you’re much better than me since you’re like, in a band.” She assumes based on how long it’s been since she’s picked up a guitar.
Nellie’s brows only knit slightly, but she’s always been bad at hiding the natural pout on her lips. “Well, I guess I do like surprises.” She shrugs, mostly to convince herself that Ethan isn’t joining the group of people who don’t want to be around her. “You know...” She tries, head tilting so her curls slide off her shoulder, “I’ve dabbled in song writing myself.” She smiles smugly, leaning over just a smidge, “Butterflies Have Wings was a hit in the second grade.” And while it was an absolute banger for the youngins, she’s just playing with him. “What do you usually write songs about? I don’t even know what kinda music y’all make.”
Sex Education, Season 3 Trailer
oofkemal·:
despite it not really feeling like a compliment, he’ll take it as one, even if it was accidental. “ this is the brightest thing i own. if they had that in my size i’d definitely be wearing it. ” he gestured to her outfit, except not because he doesn’t even want to know how much that whole outfit cost, even if she made it herself. her answer pretty much sums up that she’s only had alcohol tonight, or at least as far as she knows. “ alright, then. that’s good ‘cause the sheriff and i go way back. ” he says in jest, obviously the sheriff is sick of kem and his family and there’s definitely no favours being spared his way but he’s trying to lighten the mood as best he can. “ — i meant drugs, though. you’ve not taken any drugs. ” he makes sure to clarify anyway, just in case.
" i just mean it’s probably not as bad as you think it is. “ he reiterates, quickly realising it may not have helped at all. ” uh — you look nice. “ kem will add, clearing his throat promptly after, and maybe that’s a slight lie but she definitely looked nice earlier, before it became not that bad. the question takes him by surprise a little, or at least enough that he doesn’t have an answer right away, a small shrug of his shoulders before he conjures one. ” 'cause you look like you need it. “ he’ll say honestly, pressed smile following as his gaze remains on her. ” wanna talk about it ? whatever it is.. “ he wonders. ” you don’t have to, obviously. but, i dunno, sometimes it helps. “ take your own advice, then, dumbass.
It’s easy for Nellie to be distracted from what’s bothering her when she finds out Kem’s outfit is the brightest thing he owns. She doesn’t know why she’s surprised, she’s seen him enough the past year to gauge his fashion sense, even if she’d spent most of that time looking the other way. Maybe now that’s she’s talking to him for potentially a record time since they were teenagers, and a little too drunk to think logically, it is a little surprising he dresses so bleak. She doesn’t think he’s bleak. He’s sorta funny. “Hey, get your own look.” She taunts back. Tiresome, Nellie’s knees lean against each other and she drops her chin in a bed made of her palms. She’s slow and clumsy when she tilts her head to look over at him, a soft smile at his mention of the sheriff. “I thought he didn’t like you?” She says dumbly, a slow grin that proves she’s full of crap, his humor almost going over her head. Nellie doesn’t interact with Kem often but when she does she always has questions. Like: Why are you being so nice to me? Like: Don’t it ever bother you? The sheriff. The town. “I don’t get you.” She says honestly, but mindlessly, turning back out to face the grass.
Despite his attempts at jokes it’s the drug question that makes Nellie laugh out loud, hard and abrupt. Her head drops forward and she shakes her pink face on the way up. “Drugs? Ha! Pa would make gator breakfast outta me.” She says fondly in a moment of forgetfulness, but the mention of her father brings her back down. “Now you’re changin’ your answers.” But she’ll never turn down a compliment, even if that barely makes the cut. She rubs a thumb under her eye and takes a wad of glitter with it. She’s not paying that much attention till he answers her, and maybe sober Nellie would’ve left it at that, but she’s drunk enough to clarify. “Don’t mean now.” She looks at him with skeptical eyes, half confused and half a side-effect of sticky mascara. “Talkin’ whenever--all the time. I know it was a long time ago but if I was you I’da be madder than a wet hen. Think I’d be so mean.” She admits. “I know you think he’s terrible, my Pa. Reyna does. Everyone does.” And now Nellie’s not sure what she believes, but if there’s one person she’s seen her father be terrible to, it’s Kem.
pinkribbcn·:
Josie was happy for this party. She needed a distraction. When things got to be too much at home, she used to either hang out with her friends or go to work. But lately, she felt like she couldn’t do either because her friends were all talking about college and going to High Volume just brought back the memory of that night. Josie had always been good at repressing memories, she can thank her family and religion for that, but felt too fresh to be able to repress yet. Every time she looked at the building, all she could smell was smoke and all she could hear were the sirens. It was nice to be in a place where she could try to forget about all of that. “I’m always down for some pie, you know that.” Josie took a bite of the pie that Nellie offered her and hummed. “This is so good. Nothing beats the pies your family makes.” She looked at Nellie’s pants and gasped. “Oh, those are so cute! You have to teach me how to do that.”
It’s a little sad that one of the things Nellie appreciates the most about Josie lately is that Josie is just as unlikely to focus on Jerry as she is. Every time Nellie approaches someone from High Volume she runs the risk of opening a conversation about Jerry, about the fire, about the apartment and the suspicious men. But not Josie; she smiles, accepts the pie, takes the big bite that Nelly couldn’t bring herself to scoop. Nellie smiles back. “Nothin’ I love more than a girl who can eat.” She teases, something she always heard her granddaddy say. “Think it’s ‘cause my mom picks all her fruit fresh since she don’t gotta work.” Nellie drags the last bit with a slight attitude, thinks her mom is kinda hypocritical every time she tells her she’s not doing enough. “I think I wanna marry rich.” She says playfully but she’s serious. “Oh, I can teach ya! You can come over whenever you want, really.” It would make Nellie feel important. Plus, “My room don’t really feel as roomy as it used to.” She adds casually with a shrug, as if it doesn’t bother her as much as it does.