open to m / f / nb ; connection set within plot
who zelda monroe ( camila mendes ) , 23 year old actress and activist
connections / plot a mix of THIS and THIS ; zelda’s a former child actor turned activist, known throughout the world as ‘little miss goodie two shoes’. muse b is the ‘bad [ boy / girl / whatever ]’ on the entertainment scene, leaving behind broken hearts left and right. the two have a fwb situation, and while people are concerned / convinced that they’re legit dating, they insist to the public eye they’re Just Friends. until D Day: a video of the two of them leaks, and now everyone knows: little miss zelda is into being filmed, for fun and for pleasure.
potential triggers plot would be smut based, include use of drugs and alcohol
“What the fuck,” she groaned, her phone screaming at her from her bedside table. It had been going off all morning, but she’d been doing her best to ignore it. This was supposed to be her week off - no need for publicity, no need for magazine interviews or photoshoots, nothing to work on before the next season of her show started, just time for her to relax, to enjoy her life, to fucking sleep.
Which she couldn’t do if no one left her alone.
The clock on her bedside table said it was only 7:23am, and the sunlight streaming through her window told her that it was going to be a bright, sunshiny day, but she didn’t feel it as she sat up, wiping sleep from her eyes to reach around for her glasses, shoving them on to open the phone just in time for the phone call to end.
“Fine, then,” she mumbled, unlocking it with an all too familiar passcode - 0423, a date no one would know but her and one other. Her screen was littered with messages, calls, emails. Her manager. Her agent. Reporters. Her mother.
“Oh, no,” she whispered, horror gripping through her as she realized what had happened. And there it was, sent to her by her best friend of all people - ‘wow, Z, maybe you should have kept it in your pants until you made it to the bathroom or something?’ - a link to a TMZ article. Of her, half naked, her head thrown back, a video she didn’t even know had been filmed from her last night out over the weekend, when they’d come to visit.
‘Just Friends’ wasn’t going to fly this time. Because Just Friends didn’t have their face buried in her chest, their fingers twisting inside of her like they had been.
Zelda was fucked. And not the way she had been in this video.
Now it was her turn to start panic calling, pressing the contact information immediately, whispering to herself while she waited - it was only 4am in Los Angeles, but half the time they didn’t go to bed until the sun rose. “Pick up, pick up, pick up,” she whispered, holding the small charm around her throat as she did. “Pick up, pick up, pick up.”
“Hello?” Groggy, clearly half asleep, but always answering her phone calls. Never had Zelda been so relieved.
“We’re fucked,” she announced, her own voice gravely with sleep, “someone saw us. At the club the other night. They filmed it. And everyone’s seen it by now.”
Callisto Gordon. It was a name that many knew even if they weren’t a fan of women’s soccer. She was well known for her work on the field and her work off the field. But, one wouldn’t say that her work off the field was for the better. She was the ‘bad girl’ in the sports world. Known for not giving a fuck about anything or following the rules. From letting an entire nation down to play for a different one to dropping out of high school with a GED to pursue a career in professional sports. It wasn’t the norm in women’s sports. It was edgy and a headliner.
The midfielder had a reputation for being a testing the limits, breaking the rules and breaking hearts. Moving from her small town in Canada to the big city of LA, there were a lot of changes. Callisto was able to experience more than she could ever dream of. She was seventeen in a new city and emancipated from her parents. The world was literally at her fingertips and she took full advantage of it. She got to explore every aspect of life and figure out what she wanted out of it. Eight years later, she has barely changed but now people really knew her name. Callisto liked to think it was because she had won an olympic gold and a world cup, but she knew it was because of her friends. Living in LA, she had made friends with a number of A-List actors. Not to mention, her ‘Just Friends’ was the one and only Zelda Monroe.
The latest headline that Callisto found herself in was the recent fist fight between her and an opposing player at the her last game with the USWNT. Her coach and manager basically told her she needed to shape up her act or else she would be cut from the team. Now, she was suspended with extra trainings to attend. The team fitness coach thinking that running her into the ground will get her head straight. Callisto had been actually sleeping for once when she heard her phone go off. Part of her thought she was just dreaming, but when Zelda’s specific ringtone registered in her head, she shot straight up. Answering the phone, she let out a groggy hello. “Babe what’s wrong?” She asked with a small yawn.
Certainly too tired to come up with a witty response to her first words, Callisto just laid there trying to comprehend everything that was happening. She noticed that there were hundreds of notifications on her phone across multiple social media platforms. It was now all coming together. “This was certainly not what I expected to happen, but we were pretty careless last weekend.” Callisto never cared about being public with anything. She was an open book. But, literally fucking her ‘Just Friends’ on the club floor wasn’t her finest hour. She just couldn’t help her self with Zelda wearing what she was and her hips grinding against her the way they were. “I’ll do what ever you want me to do.” She said softly.
It was weird for Callisto. She could have everyone and anyone she wanted. She pretty much has had them too. But, Zelda Monroe was her kryptonite. From the first time they locked eyes, Callisto couldn’t get enough. No one would ever compare to her and she was a little bit whipped.
