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@ofsvges
ofclogan:
Logan’s eyes fall on the ceiling as Sage continues to talk in the background. Un-admittedly, she’s still listening even if she doesn’t reply. At this point the party is still raging on as if it just started. The clock is only a few minutes short of midnight, the music downstairs is blasting, and Logan doesn’t have the energy to fight tonight. Whether it’s petty or a full blown argument, she just doesn’t have the energy. As the minutes go by without any pets, the dog moves from the bed to the floor. If it’s panting is any sort of sign, the pup has clearly gotten overheated on top of all those covers. Instead, he wobbles over to the cool tile of the bathroom floor leaving Logan alone in a king size bed. And maybe after a while, the blonde sits up to dig something out of her bag. A joint and a lighter guiding her to another level of relaxation. She’s not always into getting high but when it comes to parties or music festivals, it’s much more favorable.
So maybe she lit it up and smoked in her friends bedroom. And maybe she offered it to Sage who surprisingly accepted it. Maybe they smoked together and when Logan flopped back on the bed once more— Maybe she left enough space for Sage to sit. And maybe they talked or maybe they didn’t. And maybe Logan didn’t hate it. “I am.” It’s been almost an hour since they’ve really said anything when she suddenly says those two words. Her head lulls to the side totally chilled out. Bright eyes meet Sage’s, her blonde hair falling across the mattress. “Catfish. I mean. I wasn’t gonna do it but they asked and I’m tired of turning down things I want to do because I’m scared.” She answers simply, shrugging her shoulders and returning her gaze to the ceiling. “So I’ve decided to not be scared anymore. Of anything.”
the last thing in the world she could have predicted happening was logan pulling out a joint, much less inviting sage to smoke it with her. things between them are maybe a little too volatile to consider the act a truce, but it’s something. it would have been easy to make a joke out of it, to poke fun at logan until she got fed up and retracted the offer or left the room altogether. it’s what she would normally do. instead, sage says nothing at all--as curious as she is about logan’s catfish revelation, something makes her keep quiet about it now, accepting the joint with nothing more than a nod. and when logan makes room for her on the bed, it’s still without a word that sage sits down next to her. this neutral ground is precarious and sage is enjoying the company too much to ruin it with her usual confrontational demeanor.
they stay like that for an entire hour. an hour. passing the joint back and forth until there’s a distinct layer of smoke visible at just above eye level, fingers deliberately never brushing, eyes carefully averted from one another despite the strange intimacy of the silence. and, incredibly, it’s logan who finally breaks it, answering sage’s question from an hour ago. she blinks a few times and rotates her head on the pillow, eyebrows coming together as her gaze falls on logan’s face. the admission feels almost brutally honest, and she wonders whether she’s been working up to it the past hour. sage wants to ask, but again exercises discretion. she gives a thoughtful little nod and waits a beat before answering. “trying not to be scared of anything sounds like setting yourself up for failure.” it’s blunt, but for once she isn’t trying to get a reaction out of logan. it’s merely an observation. her eyes meet logan’s and she can feel her pulse jump. “catfish, though. that’s pretty cool.” her lips stretch into a brief smile before she’s digging a cigarette pack out of her pocket, removing another joint from it, and swiftly lighting up. “so you said it’s just one episode?” she offers it over to logan, swiveling her head to the side to face her again.
she had been trying her best to find her car..she had gone to try a new restaurant with her band mates and she had forgotten where she parked her car. was she lost..? no, well maybe. max had only been here for a year so as much as she loved new york it still felt brand new to her at times.. max turned the corner and was planning on going into the little coffee shop that she was near until she almost ran right into her ex-girlfriend. sage had broken her heart and yet she was relieved to see her somehow. it had been such a long time since they had last seen each other. it was so unexpected, she wasn’t sure what to say. “hi.” was all she could think of. @ofsvges
running into exes isn’t necessarily a common thing for sage, but it would be untruthful to say it was uncommon, too. she’d been something of a serial dater since high school, and while a lot of her more negative coping mechanisms had faded away ( not without struggle ) after her second stint in rehab two years ago, this one had not. it’s led her to wondering whether it’s not a coping mechanism at all--maybe she’s just really bad at commitment. most of her exes sage would rather never see again, but of course there are some she tolerates more than others. at least max was less likely to try talking about things almost a year in the past. “oh--hey, max,” sage says, surprised to see her and taking note of her slightly frazzled appearance. she lifts an eyebrow beneath her sunglasses, a smoking cigarette dangling from her left hand. “you good?”
snapchat: open
willowxsparks:
willow: wouldn’t say shitty, they’re creative. willow: trust me, i properly could on the best day. willow: come to the party? you’d make it alot more fun.
sage: you’re lying straight to my face sage: you do have over a month until halloween to be creative tho sage: would i? where is it
snapchat: open
willowxsparks:
willow: well considering this party hasn’t kicked off yet, anything could catch my interest ;) willow: might change it closer to the time to like slutty police officer, comes with handcuffs.
sage: can’t believe my shitty snaps win out over a lame party. frankly i’m humbled sage: handcuffs are groovy and all but i bet you can get more creative than slutty police officer
snapchat: open
willowxsparks:
willow: right, you’ve caught my interest on fitting adjectives. willow: any time when you can get down to it - it’s a good party.
sage: have i? sage: so is slutty devil girl ur official halloween costume
snapchat: open
willowxsparks:
willow: and my outfit was fire. willow: it’s the type of party where less seems more.
sage: that is one of several fitting adjectives sage: is there any other type of party tho when you really get down to it
snapchat: open
willowxsparks:
willow: it’s wonderful, one of my favorite hoildays.
sage: oh i just meant cuz of ur outfit lmao
snapchat: open
willow: the night is young to be this spooky
sage: halloween is such a fantastic holiday
ofclogan:
It’s getting harder and harder to focus on the show with Sage right here. Not that Logan is particularly interested in the girl– She isn’t. However, it’s hard to focus on anything when someone won’t stop talking. While the other prattles on about sarcasm and attempts to instigate her, Logan only reaches for the remote to pause it. Too many noises is only going to give her a headache. Her mind is much better with one thing at a time. Perhaps, that’s the reason she doesn’t like parties. Without one main focus, it’s difficult to dart from thing to thing. The music, the people, the food, the conversation she doesn’t care about. It’s all too much. But right here… All she has to do is relax. And for someone whose constantly working, relaxing is a luxury. She’s sure that someone like Sage could never understand that. She’s a party girl. She plays her music during the day and plays even harder at night. But Logan isn’t some A lister or famous musician. She’s a camera operator who takes on a bunch of side jobs to make herself feel useful. She never stops because she’s afraid that if she isn’t useful—
Logan is fine. She couldn’t care less about anything. That was her brand after all. Not giving a shit. And Sage is one of those things she doesn’t care for. “I know what sarcasm is.” She replies bluntly. There’s a brief second where her face softens. There’s no readable expression, but there is a pit in her stomach that says you went too far. Even party girls and assholes have feelings. And a drug problem wasn’t something to joke about, even if that wasn’t her original intention. “I’d say limiting your drug usage has health benefits but I let Elvie and Margo eat nothing but candy all day so I don’t exactly have a leg to stand on.” She says simply, shrugging a bit. There’s a beat of silence where Logan wonders if Sage is going to leave. Then there’s another beat where she realizes she doesn’t really mind either way. For someone who hated her so much, that was actually progress. Not to say she liked the chick. She just didn’t care if she was here. That’s all that was. Flopping back on the bed, her blonde hair sprawls across the mattress, her arms falling open to both of her sides. The dog pokes it’s head up to make sure she’s okay before going back to sleep. “Yeah, well.” Leave it to Sage to say the last thing Logan wants to hear. “I’m replacing Max on one of their episodes so at least I know you won’t be watching.”
oddly enough, sage doesn’t get anywhere near the reaction she’d anticipated from logan, which throws her for a bit of a loop. there’s no scoffing, no eye rolls, not even a dig about how tragically cliché and predictable she manages to be. in essence, she hasn’t risen to the bait and engaged in ( yet another ) fight that goes nowhere. and that, if nothing else, leads sage to the perplexing realization that something’s different. and it’s different on logan’s end, because she certainly feels the same as she has since that day she’d looked down from her vantage point on stage and seen a cute girl looking back up at her--the same girl who’d then laughed at her for fumbling her words. it’s hard to put her finger on what it is that’s different, though; for one thing, she doesn’t really know logan at all. for another, she’s almost impossible to read. she wonders if perhaps logan’s simply gotten sick of their bickering, and that’s somehow the worst possibility of all. because at least when logan hates her, she’s still feeling something. to become the subject of indifference feels not much different than ceasing to exist entirely.
“i’m not sure drugs and candy are comparable vices,” she returns with a lifted eyebrow, and although the smirk on her face likely comes off as smug, it’s a very real smile. there’s something about logan’s face that changes when she talks about her friends--nothing dramatic, maybe not even noticeable to most people, but sage has seen it once or twice before. each time she can’t help but wonder what it might be like to see logan light up that way talking about her, and each time she rolls her eyes at herself for it. but it’s still fascinating to see it happen. “anyway, limiting it did have health benefits so you’d have been right.” it’s not a joke she’d have made with most other people simply because she prefers to glide neatly over that topic by a wide margin, so she’s not entirely sure why she did it now. and then logan is falling back on the bed with her arms starfished out on both sides, an inherently childish movement that brings another smile to sage’s face. it disappears quickly, though. “wait, what?” she pushes off the door, eyebrows furrowed, and takes a few steps closer to the bed so she can see logan’s face. “shut up, no you’re not.” except she really doesn’t look like she’s joking. “you’re one hundred percent fucking with me right now.”
alaskababey:
the sparkles on her shoes captivate alaska for a few more moments. she’s enthralled with the way they twinkle. her whole apartment was covered in glitter and that’s the way she liked it. the blonde snaps out of her day dreaming and looks at the other. “thank you, sage” she murmured, offering a bright smile. alaska lights up almost immediately. “oh! that sounds fantastic! i’d do such a good job.”
it’s sweet to see the way alaska positively beams at the suggestion of bedazzling sage’s tour outfits, whether or not she’d really meant it. although she supposes she’ll have to let her do it now, at least to one of them. going on stage glittering like a swarovski chandelier isn’t exactly sage’s aesthetic, but then again, she switching things up and surprising people very much is. “of course you would, you’re the only one i would trust to bedazzle my clothes.” she nudges alaska’s shoulder playfully. “it’ll have to be an all-over job, can you handle that? glitter from head to toe. go big or go home, ya dig?”
@sagemorrissey: first of all 🍁 and secondly 🍂 but most importantly 🎃
jvnxa:
alissa was one of those children who teachers would call precocious because know - it - all isn’t an acceptable thing for a teacher to call a student, or whatever. she cracked a minuscule grin at sage’s prodding and shook her head. “oh, fuck off. i said that it wasn’t the worst.” not that she could recall having a noteworthy amount of fun on that particular field trip either. jynx stood from her seat as the train screeched to a stop, flicking a few braids over her shoulder and waving at the flustered teenager. “bye.” she returned her attention to sage with a small snort of amusement, following her through the doors and into the bustling, echoing city underground. “what, like a jazzercise move? dude, i hate that. please never mention doing the cyclone to me again.” she was certain that sage would, probably over and over again at least until she had agreed to ride the rollercoaster with her. “i hope so,” jynx mused, “because even though i’d totally give you a kidney and all, there’s no way you’re dragging me back here next weekend. i already have a studio session scheduled, so you’re gonna be on your own if you really wanna see someone eating some swords that badly.”
“exactly like a jazzercise move,” sage agrees, flashing jynx a grin. “and you do realize that i’m now under obligation to keep saying it to you just, like, on principle. it’d be easier for both of us if you just did the fuckin’ ride with me.” she laughs at the forewarning about next weekend, and although she doesn’t give a verbal acknowledgment she makes note in her mind. in fact, she should be getting in the studio soon, but she’s been putting it off. it’s not that the inspiration hasn’t been there, and it’s not even that the music hasn’t been coming, it just hasn’t been right. taking two steps at a time, sage lights the cigarette as soon as she reaches the sidewalk, already spotting the cyclone in the distance and grinning. “so a studio session, huh?” she starts walking in the direction of the roller coaster, knowing she’ll likely cave and buy a funnel cake from one of the stands before they even get there. “you have to be almost finished with the album. releasing singles and all.” she winks cheekily, smoke drifting out from between her lips and lingering briefly in the stagnant summer air--the tail end of it, likely. “hey, know what? we can totally do an eighties-themed jazzercise music video. your favorite!”
mcv-c:
she knew she existed, she knew this other well off and well loved family existed but marnie refused to acknowledge that existence. if she never even went to see her mother what made any think she wanted any association with her fathers cheating project? she hated her father for doing what he did to their family, she despised her mother for taking her sorrow out on her family. she was disgusted by her brother just abandoning marnie when he didn’t approve of her choices. she hated the idea of family with every single inch of her being.
she’s sat at the bar, drink in hand. it’s later in the night, she’s finished work and she just needs to wind down. she’s not someone who enjoys silence, she’s not someone who likes being left alone with her thoughts and considering angel was busy and she couldn’t go and stay at her boyfriends place the bar was the next best thing for distraction. she’s relaxed and loose, just rested on the bar as she talks with her regular bartender and the crowd of people she naturally attracted, a voice echoing over the pounding music. she turns with a small and confused smile, it’s not confusion of someone she doesn’t know approaching her because she’s used to that. no, it’s confusion because she’s never met this girl and yet she’s so oddly familiar. “uh hi,” she greets giving the girl her attention, green eyes glittering under dull club lighting. “i am,” nods the blonde furrowing her brows, maybe she was just a fan? it’s not she hasn’t met female porn viewers before, they’re far more common than people assume. but then the girl continues on and she nods slowly again, was she meant to know a sage morrissey? “have we met?” she asks in curiosity, not trying to be mean but this girl seems to be sure marnie would recognise her. then three words hit her like a tonne of bricks and you can see the literal colour drain from her cheeks. “what?” she scoffs.
sometimes--usually in the middle of some arbitrary night, when all the old fears and anxieties about her dad come creeping out of her subconscious for no good reason--sage wonders what it must have been like in marnie’s shoes. was she glad their dad left? did she feel lucky, knowing what kind of man he was, or did she feel abandoned? had she ever really even known him? when he’d died, sage and her mom hadn’t learned much about the other family beyond the fact of their existence. there had been some brief conversation at the funeral with marnie’s mom and brother, but even at eight years old sage remembers having felt that asking a lot of questions in front of the casket would have been poor social etiquette. so all she can do now is speculate, and from time to time check up on her estranged half-sister via the miracle of social media.
immediately upon seeing the color leave marnie’s face sage realizes this was probably a bad idea. contacting her on instagram would have been one thing, giving marnie the space to process and then time to respond, but this. this public place, surrounded by strangers, where already at least one person seems to have recognized sage and begun trying to take pictures--it had been a poor choice. still, she’d already committed, so even though marnie is giving off every kind of vibe telling her to get lost, sage plants her feet. “your sister,” she repeats, still speaking over the music. “half-sister, i guess. whatever. sorry to fucking...like, come at you out of the blue like that but i just saw you and...” she cuts herself off, irritated with the music and with her inability to speak a coherent sentence. “look, you wanna go outside for a second and talk?”
@sagemorrissey: stream strangers or else 👅
JYNX RELEASES DEBUT SINGLE STRANGERS FEAT. SAGE MORRISSEY FROM UPCOMING THIRD ALBUM
Here at TMZ, we—like all of you—have had our eyes and ears peeled lately for any news surrounding a release date for indie-pop sensation Jynx’s third album, as yet untitled and which fans have been referring to simply as “J3” on the Internet. The singer topped the charts (and broke a few records while she was at it) last year with such mega-popular hits as COLORS and GHOST, both of which boast an elaborate medley of eerie soundscapes held together by haunting vocals and deeply personal lyrics.
Last Thursday, fans went into a frenzy over a series of ambiguous tweets from Jynx herself alongside Sage Morrissey, another chart-topping artist known for her genre-defying sounds that leap from Amy Winehouse-inspired vocals like that of PINK SAND to such satirical hits as DIRTY BUSINESS, all within the same album. Speculation ran rampant that the two singers—known widely to be close friends—have finally decided to collaborate on a song.
Earlier this morning, the suspense ended…and boy was it worth it. Fans were treated to the first single, titled STRANGERS, off of Jynx’s upcoming album, and the mash-up of vocals is everything we could have hoped for from these two. It begins right away with an evocative lyric that lets the listener know in no uncertain terms this song is about a sapphic relationship, something we’ve come to expect from Morrissey and can be found sprinkled here and there throughout Jynx’s previous albums. As the song unfolds, we’re treated to a story about what seems to be a failed relationship based on not much more than lust.
The question on everyone’s minds now is this: is the song autobiographical? Are they singing about one another? Has the world completely missed a clandestine relationship happening behind closed doors between two of pop music’s most beloved singers? Some say yes, some say no, but from the musicians themselves we’ve heard precious little in the way of confirming or denying it either way. Stay tuned—we’re bound to find out eventually. / @ofsvges
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