To celebrate 10 years of Clexa kissing, here are some of the Clexa kisses I most enjoyed writing. Mild spoiler alert if you haven't read those stories yet.
Ad Astra Per Aspera
“I am so tired of it already. Of not knowing what tomorrow will bring. Of fearing the darkness and the shadows that have followed us since we left. Of regretting all the things I did not get to do.” Clarke turned her head to the side to stare at her companion as she said those words.
Lexa’s body had shifted and was practically facing hers. In the candlelight, her face seemed younger, more open than during their days riding across the empty land.
“Klark…” she whispered, her eyes flicking down to look at Clarke’s lips. The green of her eyes appeared narrower in the semi-darkness, emerald circling the obsidian pupils larger than ever.
Clarke knew it was probably due to the lighting rather than arousal. Yet she couldn’t stop herself from hoping it was the latter, too. She had been thinking about it for too long, and she was tired of denying herself any ounce of joy. Slowly enough to give Lexa time to draw back if she wished to, she inched her face forward and closed the distance between their lips.
Kissing Lexa was a terrible idea. Probably one of her worst, for several reasons that flashed through her mind. She was technically an enemy, a native of a conquered land whose people refused to submit to Rome fully. She had been assaulted and nearly raped by some of Clarke’s men and had every reason to despise legionaries. Clarke was supposed to head back south soon, and they would never see each other again.
But when Lexa whimpered and opened her mouth to welcome her tongue, desperate to take anything she was ready to offer, Clarke’s heart soared in her chest, and her sex ached. It had been too long since she had had a warm body against hers. Since she had heard the quickening of a breath and felt the shivers elicited by her caresses. She didn’t want to stop.
Kissing Lexa was the best thing she had ever done. The young woman who had led them through her ancestors’ territory and accepted Clarke’s help and protection was pliant in her arms. She lowered her back willingly against the furs. Her long fingers cupped Clarke’s nape and pulled her on top of her with urgency.
Kissing Lexa was the calm before the storm. It was her mother’s smell, the mix of perfume and the herbs of her trade that created a unique combination etched in her memory. It was her father’s laugh and his baritone voice telling her the stories of the past heroes. It was the clangs and cuss words coming from Raven’s workshop, behind their house, and all the other sounds she had come to associate with home.
Kissing Lexa was also the thrill of a battle won when you thought you were going to lose. It was the exhilaration of jumping into the Tiber from a bridge and taking your first deep breath after surfacing. It was the thunder of thousands of spectators sitting in the Colosseum clapping at the same time after a skillful demonstration of strength and bravery.
Happy Clexaweek25! In honor of the 10 year anniversary of the Clexa kiss, I'm posting a collection of Clexa first kisses from my fics for Clexaweek25 <3
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5
Clarke had been dozing lightly, drifting in that cherished limbo somewhere between awake and asleep, Lexa’s words guiding her like a safe harbor.
And then her next words, spoken with uncharacteristic hesitation followed by a gruff clearing of her throat, changed everything.
“She kissed me silently.”
Clarke’s eyes had flown open. She peered down from where her head was propped on Lexa’s shoulder, her heart stuttering in her chest as she focused on the words printed on the paper moments before Lexa said them aloud.
"I am sure, Carmilla, you have been in love; that there is, at this moment, an affair of the heart going on."
"I have been in love with no one, and never shall," she whispered, "unless it should be with you."
How beautiful she looked in the moonlight!”
Lexa paused when Clarke took an audible, sharp intake of breath, and Clarke cursed herself for a moment because she didn’t want Lexa to stop. But she could feel the weight of her uncertain stare, so she tilted her head, craning back to meet her gaze, and a thrill wracked through her when their eyes met. It was a calm, breezy day, barely a cloud in the sky, but suddenly it felt as though thunder could rumble and lightning strike at any moment.
“What?” Lexa said, voice small.
“She kissed her,” Clarke said dumbly, cursing herself for her lack of wit. Her face warmed, touched with embarrassment.
Lexa swallowed, green eyes flitting between each of Clarke’s as though searching for something. “Yes.”
Clarke paused, her heart thundering. She struggled to control her breathing. “They...they are both women, are they not?” She may not have paid as much attention to this book as she could have in favor of napping, but she was fairly certain of this.
Lexa swallowed again, and Clarke was enchanted and besotted by the dusting of pink on her cheeks. “Yes.”
She kissed her.
Clarke’s gaze drifted, as it was already wont to do, but typically not so openly. Lexa’s lips were full and pink and beautiful, and Clarke had felt their softness on her countless times before, however fleeting. Kisses to the top of her head, to her hand, even on occasion to her cheeks. But never on her mouth. Her body seized and burned with the ache coursing through her at the thought, the need. She realized all at once that Lexa was still staring at her, and panic struck high in her chest; she promptly dipped her head down, hiding her face in the curve of Lexa’s neck, shaking in response to the hitch of breath Lexa gave.
For a long moment they were silent, still, uncertain, until Clarke couldn’t stand the tension in the air any longer.
“Keep reading,” she whispered.
It took another moment, but Lexa did. Cleared her throat first, and quietly read out, “Shy and strange was the look with which she quickly hid her face in my neck and hair, with tumultuous sighs, that seemed almost to sob, and pressed in mine a hand that trembled.”
Clarke’s face burned against Lexa’s skin, and Lexa’s wild curls tickled her nose. She couldn’t stop herself from pressing her trembling hand to the one Lexa had clenched in a fist atop her thigh. She could feel Lexa’s whole frame shaking against her, and without thought Clarke tipped her chin up to press what was meant to be a soothing, placating kiss to any part of Lexa she could reach; she landed on the column of Lexa’s throat, and her heart thudded at the fact that she could feel Lexa’s pulse thrumming wildly just beneath her flesh.
Lexa continued to read, her voice rough, lower than Clarke had ever heard it.
“Her soft cheek was glowing against mine. "Darling, darling," she murmured, "I live in you; and you would die for me, I love you so."
The words echoed within Clarke, rebounding in the confines of her skull, singing out a chorus in the caverns of her chest. It was instinct, the way she pressed more firmly against Lexa. The way she sought out more of her, nose trailing the arch of her neck and the hard line of her jaw, the high hollow of her cheek, and finally, the soft tip of her nose. All Clarke could hear was the rushing in her ears as she struggled to open her eyes; when she did, all she could see was Lexa, less than an inch away and closer than Clarke had ever been to her, her brow creased with something akin to desperation, her lips parted, rapid breaths puffing warm over Clarke’s lips.
She kissed her.
It was as easy and natural as anything else Clarke had ever done by instinct. As simple as breathing. She didn’t know who closed the gap, but one moment they were both breathing one another in and the next, their mouths were pressed together. Lexa was impossibly soft against her, warm, and Clarke realized all at once that she was wrong about breathing being easy before. She felt as though she had never breathed properly until this moment, which made little sense considering how much difficulty she was having sucking air into her lungs, but she would happily remain here like this, motionless, pressed into Lexa, propping herself up with one hand on Lexa’s knee and the other clenched tightly over Lexa’s fist, their mouths fixed perfectly together.
But all too soon, the need for air won out, and she and Lexa broke apart. They remained close for a while longer, ragged breaths mixing, foreheads resting together, until Clarke managed to force her eyes to open and she found Lexa already watching her with a particularly dark shade of green Clarke had only ever seen on a handful of occasions. She very nearly kissed her again, except then Lexa blinked, and blinked once more, before drawing back and putting space between them. She pulled her arm free from beneath Clarke’s grip as she hauled herself to her feet, bracing against the tree trunk when she swayed unsteadily.
Hi! Don't know if you've seen the little 10 years of clexa kisses thread going on? Writers posting their favorite kisses from their own works
I would love to see your favorite kisses that you've written! Or any new ones yoi may have 👀
OOOH I LOVE THIS!!
First kisses are always my favorite to write, so apologies that most of these are first kisses lol
answer under cut! one for each story where they already kissed (sorry, ‘no body no crime’ and ‘hold my crown (while i go down),’ you’ll get your moments!). Link to the stories in title
8. The Babysitter
mutual pining/high school crush au that was so fun to write!
“Hey, Lexa?”
“Yes?”
“Can I kiss you?”
“Can you- what?” Lexa was taken aback. She had to make sure she heard that correctly.
“Can I kiss you?” Clarke asks again, calmly. “You don’t have to say yes,”
“I…” Lexa falters, at a loss for words. She couldn’t think straight, not with the way Clarke was looking at her with those eyes and that lip bite. God, Lexa wanted to bite it herself.
Clarke suddenly looks embarrassed, sitting up on the bed. “Um. Sorry. I don’t know why I asked that. That was weird. Forget-“
“You can,” Lexa blurts out, Clarke’s mouth still open mid sentence. “Kiss me, I mean. If you still want to. Thank you for asking, by the way. Consent is always a good thing-“
“And you call me the dork,” Clarke grins as she pushes forward, wrapping her arms around Lexa’s neck and brings her in for a kiss.
7. More Than That
friends to lovers!! secret mutual pining!! ugh love it
“I love you,” she whispered quietly. She searched Lexa’s face for any reaction, to which she found none. She felt her heart crack. “I’m sorry. I ruined it. Please forget that I said anything. Better yet, forget that you’ve ever known me. Just throw your entire memory aw-“
Clarke shut up because Lexa decided to kiss her. It wasn’t like the ones when others were around, no. This one was slower, and softer. Lexa’s lips moved with a purpose, gently pressing against Clarke’s as if she was going to break her. She pulled away moments later, gazing into Clarke’s eyes.
“You just kissed me,” Clarke said blankley. “Why did you do that?
Lexa grinned, biting her lip. “Because I’ve loved you since we were thirteen, you dope”
6. The Lighthouse
the little mermaid first kiss to get your voice back. sucker for this
She decided to take the leap. Her head moved down swiftly, connecting her lips to Clarke’s.
Her body tingled with warmth, Clarke’s lips soft against her own. She felt hands on the back of her neck, pulling her closer. Lexa’s brain felt like it was exploding. Clarke pulled back, before tilting her head and going back in. This felt right. Lexa’s gay brain turned into a pile of mush.
“Finally,”
Lexa agreed, smiling as she kissed Clarke again, and again, and again. It took a minute for her to register that that word was spoken out loud.
Lexa pulled back. Surely she imagined that, right? She looked at Clarke, whose lips were kiss-swollen and hair mussled. Clarke smiled at her widely and nodded, signalling that Lexa did not imagine that.
“Hi,” Clarke said, clear as a bell. Lexa’s mouth dropped open in pure shock. “I love you,”
5. you belong with me
my taylor swift au where Lexa professed her love to clarke on Jimmy Fallon so Clarke flies to new york to see her immediately after and they kiss in the rain
Clarke was overcome with emotion. Every one of Lexa’s songs were about her and her love for her. Clarke couldn’t help the huge smile that appeared on her face before she closed the distance between her and Lexa to meet the girl in a heated kiss. She kissed Lexa with all the passion she could muster, wanting to show the girl how much she meant to her and how touched she was from last night’s interview. Clarke swiped her tongue across Lexa’s bottom lip, asking for entrance which she was soon granted, Lexa’s tongue shyly meeting hers. They kissed in the middle of the New York rainstorm, and to Clarke, it was perfect.
4. for the love of the gods
this one’s good cause lexa is supposed to be a celibate priestess and patron goddess clarke’s like NOT ON MY WATCH
Lexa felt a hand at the back of her neck and then the next thing she knew the stranger attached her lips to Lexa, surprising the priestess in more ways than one.
You need to stop this Lexa thought to herself, trying not to think of the softness and sweetness of the girl’s lips. You made a vow, this isn’t right
“You’re overthinking this,” the girl murmured against Lexa’s lips. “Stop. Just for once, don’t think,”
You didn’t have to tell Lexa twice.
She kissed back like it was her last time (because it might be) and she felt the girl grin, satisfied that Lexa decided to give in. The girl swiped her tongue across Lexa’s bottom lip, asking for entrance that was soon granted by the brunette The girl’s hands threaded through Lexa’s hair, messing up the intricate braids that adored her hair, but Lexa didn’t care. She never knew kissing could feel this good.
3. So High School
I love this one cause Clarke thinks the kisses mean they’re best friends🤣 come on girl
“Well, Ontari is a second-year senior who probably takes steroids, and you’re just a scrawny sophomore,” Clarke smirks jokingly as she hooks her fingers in the collar of Lexa’s shirt. “Don’t worry, babe. You’ll hit puberty someday,”
She leans forward to kiss Lexa, the brunette’s eyes fluttering closed when she feels Clarke’s lips meet hers. God, kissing Clarke had to be her favorite thing in the whole world.
“You’re your own harshest critic,” Clarke whispers as she pulls away, letting go of her hold on Lexa’s shirt collar and clasping the girl’s hands in her own. “Let me be your biggest cheerleader,”
2. secret recipe
first kiss for the helpless gay chef and idiot bisexual heiress
“It doesn’t have to mean anything,” Clarke continues when there’s a lack of response from Lexa. It doesn’t have to, but I want it to. I want it to mean everything.
“Clarke…” Lexa’s heart is pounding so hard she fears it may burst out of her chest. “Are you sure?”
More sure than anything.
“Yes,” Clarke answers instead, surging forward to connect their mouths in a soft kiss.
Clarke feels her heart exploding the moment their lips touched, and she melts into the kiss. Kissing Lexa felt different than kissing anyone else, but in the best way possible. It felt right. Like Clarke finally unlocked the secret to happiness, and it was kissing Lexa Woods.
1. royally screwed
as if anyone is surprised 😂 not their first kiss but the first one with ~feelings~
“It comes from a Norse myth,” Lexa tells her wife, her palms suddenly becoming sweaty. “You see, the son of Odin and Frigg, Baldur, started to have dreams of his death, so Frigg made all of the things on earth promise to not hurt her son. He was now said to be invincible, so the other gods took joy in throwing things at him.” Lexa was staring up at the mistletoe, avoiding Clarke’s eyes. “The mischief god, Loki, was jealous of how popular Baldur was, so he searched far and wide for something that could kill Baldur. He found out Frigg forgot a simple but deadly plant: mistletoe,”
“So he fashioned a spear with the mistletoe and convinced a blind god to throw it at Balder. Once the spear hit him, he died. Heartbroken, Frigg now made it a rule that mistletoe would be used for love, and that whenever someone encounters it they show an act of love; that’s why we kiss underneath it,” Lexa took this chance to look at Clarke, who was listening intently. Her bright blue eyes were staring at Lexa in wonder, causing the brunette to realize what her wife might think she implied.
“But um,” Lexa stumbled over her words. “That’s just a superstition. An old wives tale. It doesn’t mean we have to-“
“Lexa?” Clarke interrupted softly, a bemused look on her face. “Are you going to kiss me?”
Lexa felt her mouth go dry. Her eyes widened as she but her bottom lip nervously. “Am I allowed to?”
Clarke smirked as her eyes twinkled. “Come here,” she said, cupping Lexa’s face as she stepped closer and pressed her lips to her wife’s.
This kiss felt different.
It wasn’t at all like the two passionless ones they shared on their wedding day, it was soft. Innocent. A confirmation of the feelings that both of them had. Clarke felt her already flushed cheeks burn and her stomach swoop as Lexa’s plush lips moved lightly against hers, the feeling setting her on fire.
It wasn’t their first kiss, but it should have been.
Everyone in the know grows more skeptical of what's really going on between Clarke and Lexa, the girls appear on a game show for couples, Clarke and The Grounders play a bunch of covers together, and a work date to a VIP opening of a new club takes a turn that neither of them see coming.
And things are kinda different now.
Get caught up on Part Four, or Start From The Beginning if you want.
12030 words:
“I’m sorry I’m late,” Clarke let out a huge, relieved sigh as she dropped into her chair beside Lexa in the photo studio. She habitually inched it closer and rested her body against Lexa’s with a casual hand on her thigh. “I just got in. I was in Connecticut overnight.”
After parting from brunch the day before, Lexa went into work and Clarke went home to get more sleep before going back out to see her mother.
The hug on the sidewalk when they left wasn’t for any cameras.
Clarke melted into Lexa’s arms and stayed that way for too long. The soft kiss Lexa left on Clarke’s forehead wasn’t requested by their marketing overlord. They were just two people who cared about each other saying goodbye after a tough time.
Lexa had been thinking about it nonstop for the past twenty-four hours.
“I’m serious and I’m intense and I’m thorough, but I’m not a monster, Clarke,” Ali replied with a smile that was different from her usual maniacal fare and was almost understanding. “How’s your mother doing?”
“She’s resting comfortably,” Clarke replied evenly. “Surgery was a success.”
“Was she awake when you got there?” Lexa turned to Clarke with a gentle understanding that made Ali perk up. She bit her tongue, let them continue, and listened closely.
“A little bit, yeah,” Clarke shot Lexa a small, hopeful smile as she settled into her seat. “She came to last night and she actually recognized me and we had a few nice moments together. She’s doing well and she’s on track. I stayed in case she woke up again, but when I left this morning she was still asleep. She should be able to go home in a few days as long as everything holds and she stays stable.”
“That’s great news,” Lexa let an alleviated sigh out as she naturally slung her arm over the back of Clarke’s chair.
“That is really great news,” Ali chimed in. She sat at a table across from them with her elbows on the table top and a scrutinous eye running over the former nemeses sitting together and comforting one another on intimate topics they knew almost too much about.
Their body language was different from their forced familiarity that Ali had both created and come to know. It was different. It was softer and kinder and held a friendship and a closeness that she didn’t tell them to curate.
Because it was real.
“I should be good to go for the next few days,” Clarke nodded to confirm it and dug a notebook and a pen out of her bag on the floor beside her to keep track of any new plans.
“Wonderful!” Ali clapped her hands together. “The content you two have been making is great. Excellent work. The fans are losing their damn minds. You’re both looking very natural and staying on brand. We do have a lot coming up that’s going to push some limits and set you further outside of your comfort zones, but if you pull it off, the reward will be worth it.”
One of Clarke’s knees bounced anxiously. Lexa kept flicking her eyes down to it.
“You both have that spot on that celebrity edition of the newly weds game show reboot this week. The Grounders will be there with you which leads us to our next phase of Clarke starting to play more with you and the band ASAP,” Ali continued.
“I think we should do reels together in our practice space doing cover songs. She takes lead vocals and I’m on piano with the band,” Lexa spoke up confidently. Clarke shot her a pleasantly surprised look.
“Do you?” Ali smirked back.
“I think our fans should hear her sing something that isn’t her songs or our songs, but songs they already know well. That way when we drop a new song all together, they already know they like the way we sound together. We’re creating something new, so let’s warm them up with something safe that shows off everyone’s skills,” Lexa explained in a steadfast business voice that stirred something in Clarke’s chest.
Lexa smoothly reached out and put a firm hand on Clarke’s knee and pressed down to stop the bouncing.
“It’ll hype them up to see what we can do on our own after they see how well we cover classic hits they know and love.” She squeezed Clarke’s knee before letting go.
“Lexa, you little sneak, have you been reading my notes?” Ali joked with a devilish grin.
“That’s a great idea,” Clarke nodded with impressed brows. She glanced away in thought and ferociously clicked the pen in her hand open and closed over and over.
“We’ve already played a bunch of covers together,” Lexa’s overconfidence caught up with her.
“You have?” Ali cocked her head. “And you didn’t think to maybe capture that beautiful, content-rich moment between the two of you?”
“You didn’t send her that?” Clarke turned her head towards Lexa, confused.
“I thought,” Lexa cut herself off when she tripped over how close Clarke’s face was to her own.
“You didn’t send me what?” Ali sat up straighter.
“No, I didn’t,” Lexa huffed.
“Why not?” Clarke asked innocently.
“Didn’t send me WHAT?” Ali tried again, creeping gradually across the table by the moment.
“It felt too personal,” Lexa exhaled and avoided Clarke’s glance. Ali sat bolt upright.
“I can see that,” Clarke shrugged. “I was wondering why they weren’t using anything from that afternoon. It was fucking magical.”
“If I have to ask a third time, I’m going to unhinge my jaw like a snake and breathe a stream of white hot fire straight through both of your skulls,” Ali said in a terrifyingly monotone voice.
Lexa and Clarke froze and just stared back at her for a few beats.
“Show her the video,” Clarke said in a low panic with an encouraging pat to Lexa’s thigh, but refused to break her gaze from Ali’s demonic stare.
After another huff and loud scowl, Lexa dug her phone out of her bag and sifted through her camera roll.
Clarke’s brow twitched when she saw the name of the folder Lexa kept the recording in.
“We put a playlist on the stereo and played and sang along to it for hours after the content morning,” Lexa hit play and slid the phone across the table to face Ali.
Ali didn’t emote or speak and let excruciating minutes of the video play while she sat in stiff silence.
Clarke and Lexa both carefully leaned in to see the screen and decipher anything that might be going in Ali’s brain.
Ali abruptly paused the video and sat up straight.
They both leaned back in unison.
“I don’t use this word lightly, but this bit of the two of you doing ‘Some Kind Of Wonderful’ is simply adorable,” Ali pointed at the phone on the table and gave them a dead stare. “I had my doubts that the two of you could get along, but what the actual fuck, girls? This is pure platinum!”
Clarke sagged with reprieve against Lexa who couldn’t hide the disappointment in her eyes.
“It’s not pure anything. We were just having a good time,” Lexa bit her lip to cover up her frown.
Ali didn’t miss a single twitch of Lexa’s disgruntled features.
“Can we use it?” Ali asked.
Clarke and Lexa whipped their heads up at the same time.
“You’re actually asking us?” Clarke gaped.
“Until she sends it to me, it’s technically Lexa’s property. The legal intricacies of this thing go both ways in certain areas and that’s one of them,” Ali shrugged indifferently.
“I’m fine with it,” Clarke shrugged back.
The pen clicking resumed.
“Go ahead,” Lexa relented with a defeated sigh. She picked her phone up and uploaded the video to her work cloud.
“Wonderful,” Ali’s voice stayed even as she observed every nuance, movement, and breath Lexa took with a keen eye.
They were both different, but Lexa’s changes were extreme.
She was steadfast, too protective, and showing huge swings of emotion into territory that didn’t make any sense, unless…
“Alright! Hair and make up!” Ali clapped her hands over her head and the crews rushed in to pull Clarke and Lexa apart to their respective chairs.
One of her executive assistants walked behind her and Ali grabbed him by the arm to stop him. She pulled him aggressively down so she could speak quietly right into his ear.
“I want Anya Bridges in my office this afternoon,” Ali said with purpose. Her assistant gave an obedient nod and pulled out his phone as he scurried away.
Once they were dressed and ready, Clarke and Lexa stood on the usual set holding hands and waiting for instructions as assistants buzzed around and photographers snapped test photos.
“Why didn’t you send the video?” Clarke asked quietly. She looked down at her shoes and tapped her toes together and apart repeatedly.
The lights on the white set were so bright. There was nowhere to hide.
“I don’t know,” Lexa muttered after a lengthy pause that gave her away.
“Yes, you do,” Clarke kept her eyes low. “I saw the name of the folder.”
“You looked too happy,” Lexa confessed after debating to lie for too long. “You’ve just looked so sad lately that I didn’t want them to get to take that from you and turn it into something else. You should just get to be happy because you’re happy, not because they need you to be happy so they can use it. I felt like it shouldn’t be theirs. That was the real you and it should just be ours.”
Clarke broke into a smile and felt the warmth of overwhelmed tears behind her eyes. Something in her stomach hostilely changed positions and made her jaw tense up.
“Thank you,” Clarke still didn’t look up and tapped her shoes more rapidly. “That’s actually kinda sweet.”
“Why are you so fidgety today?” Lexa huffed and thankfully dodged the implications behind Clarke’s kind words.
“Huh?” Clarke brought her head up and shook her hair out of her eyes to meet Lexa’s.
Any time Clarke was crying or about to cry, her eyes were so goddamn blue. They suckerpunched Lexa in the chest and made her stabilize herself before continuing.
“The knee bouncing and the pen and all this fidgeting you’re doing,” Lexa pointed with their joined hands down at Clarke’s feet. “You never do any of that. Are you okay?”
“Oh,” Clarke blushed and rolled her eyes away. “I quit smoking cigarettes a few days ago. I’m driving myself batshit.”
“With everything going on in your life, you decided to stop smoking this week?” Lexa chuckled and edged back into their sassy routine.
“You said you didn’t like to kiss me when I’ve been smoking,” Clarke shrugged nonchalantly.
Lexa’s mouth fell open in flustered and honest shock.
“You have to kiss me all the time now, so I stopped,” she finished with an impish smile at Lexa. “Not to mention that they’re expensive and killing me.”
“Really?” Lexa finally mustered up. “So you just stopped? Just like that?”
“It sucks and I hate it, but yes. I’m already enough of a bitch as it is, so you might decide you like me smoky better. For all the hard work you’ve put into tolerating me and everything I come with, I figured it’s only fair to do my part.”
“I’m not tolerating you. We’re working together,” Lexa said, a whiff of wounded in her tone.
“Yeah, NOW,” Clarke chuckled. “But you certainly were tolerating me for a while there. You’ve been so good about just getting this weird job done and so patient with me, and you keep up the theatrics so well that I figured I could do my part and make it easier for you,” Clarke shrugged again.
“Wow,” Lexa nodded and thought it over.
She didn’t want to think it over but she couldn’t stop.
She knew Clarke was talking about the fake kisses. She knew the conversation was about work and the charade and the plots and the fake chemistry between them, but the real chemistry between them and the gray area they had danced into made the weight of it too heavy to carry on the fake set while they held real hands in their fake costumes holding back their real selves.
“Alright, chicas! Let’s get these shots over with so you can get back to work on that lukewarm track of yours!” Ali barked as she and the photographers made it to the set.
Lexa had never been so happy to hear Ali’s voice.
***
“Am I in trouble? Cause I haven’t said shit to anyone,” Anya declared with her hands raised as she sat across from Ali in her plush, white, naturally lit office that afternoon.
“You’re not in trouble,” Ali sighed dismissively.
“Sick,” Anya nodded with wide eyes.
“I need to ask you a confidential question off the record and I need you to tell me the truth,” Ali spoke in a voice that wasn’t quite a threat, but couldn’t really be described as anything else.
“That sort of sounds like I’m in trouble,” Anya tsked slyly.
Ali sent glares at all of the assistants in the room who took the hint and all scurried out the door.
“This is all off the record and I’ll make you a deal. If you don’t tell anyone I asked you this question, I won’t tell anyone your answer,” Ali’s voice was icy and smooth.
“Am I allowed to be alone in here with you?” Anya asked in a confused whisper. “You’re always surrounded by a hoard of those dudes,” she tacked on and pointed over her shoulder.
“Do we have a deal?” Ali leaned forward across her desk and brought a sketchy wave of intimidation with her.
“I don’t get to tell anyone about this and neither do you?” Anya puzzled. She wasn’t falling for Ali’s spell and it made one of Ali’s eyes twitch just slightly. “Seems messed up. Why would you do that? What do you want?”
“I’m just looking for information to adjust my strategy and I’m hoping to get it quietly. I do what I want when I want how I want. You know that. I have some suspicions I want confirmed so that I can act accordingly if I’m right,” Ali rattled off with sharp annunciation.
“Then why are you talking to me?” Anya shifted in her seat. “I’m just collateral damage in this whole thing.”
“Do we have a deal?” Ali repeated.
“Sure, your highness. I’ll keep it out of the press if you do, too,” Anya rolled her eyes. “What’s the burning question?”
“Are Clarke and Lexa fucking?” Ali asked all too frankly.
“Yoooo!” Anya leaned back in her chair and tried not to laugh and failed. “There’s no way you secretly dragged me up to the penthouse just to ask me that!”
“Are they?” Ali pressed gently.
“I don’t know?” Anya yelped. “If they are, they haven’t said anything to me.”
“Is that something that Lexa would tell you?” Ali gently pressed further.
“I would hope so,” Anya replied quickly.
“But you don’t know so?” Ali raised a brow.
“Sometimes she likes to keep things to herself. That’s her right and her business,” Anya didn’t like where this was headed.
“Sure, we all have our secrets to keep and cherish always, but you two are the very best of friends. If she was fucking Clarke, you’d know about it,” Ali sat forward to level with Anya.
“I like to think I would, but I really don’t think they are,” Anya tried to feign indifference, but she realized halfway through her answer that she wasn’t all that sure.
Lexa had been different lately.
Anya and the band were looking through their social apps just that morning and commenting how wild it was that the two faux lovers were able to set their differences aside and commit to the bit with so much success. They scrolled through Lexa’s feed on one phone and Clarke’s on another and laughed and joked at the meticulously managed circus.
It was Echo that pointed out Lexa’s real smile in a few of the pictures.
And it was Lincoln who commented how pretty Clarke was when she wasn’t scowling.
Anya knew it was all fake, but it looked so, so real.
“So you don’t know for sure if theyre fucking? Do you think they’re fucking and they’re not telling you?” Ali’s tone was too frank and too friendly at the same time.
Anya narrowed her eyes at Ali and folded her arms over her chest.
“Why are you asking me this?” Anya spoke cautiously.
“Because something’s up with them and I want to know if I need to change the carefully crafted hour by hour plan I have for them for the rest of the summer or not, and asking them point blank will either scare them off if they are into each other, or give them ideas if they’re not,” Ali said bluntly.
She was telling the truth and Anya could see it. A crack in her robotic exterior.
“That’s it?” Anya pressed back. “They’re not in trouble if they’re sleeping together?”
“Are they?” Ali matched her tone.
“I don’t know,” Anya kept up. “Will it matter?”
“It’ll matter, but they won’t be in trouble.”
“I still have no idea. I just wanted to check,” Anya grinned smugly. “Why will it matter?”
“Because if those two talented little babes are actually into each other, it could complicate the painstakingly orchestrated break up I’ve planned and the resulting futures I’ve promised them,” Ali said flatly.
“Wait, you actually care about them?” Anya asked openly.
“Technically, according to the fine print, yes, I do,” Ali replied with a closed lipped smile.
Anya sat back in her chair with her arms folded over her chest and a scrutinous eye locked on Ali scanning for a lie. For a trick. For a way this conversation would take her down somehow.
It wasn’t there.
“Thank you for your time and your confidential honesty, Anya. If anyone asks, I never spoke to you and you didn’t see me. That’ll be all for today,” Ali shoved a smug grin across the desk.
“It’s been a pleasure not speaking with you,” Anya tried to match it, but was too confused by the whole thing.
They both held their gaze with one another as Anya backed out of the room and left the office.
She let a big breath out and hurried to the elevator. Rather than hit the button for her practice room, she picked the floor that had Raven’s office on it and burst through her door without knocking.
“Hello! Yes! Come in! The door’s open!” Raven joked and fashed her trademark big grin. Her face fell when she took in Anya’s disgruntled brows.
“Are you expecting anyone?” Anya pointed over her shoulder with her thumb into the hallway. She was sweaty and nervous and jumpy.
“No? I’m getting caught up on paperwork. Why?” Raven set her shoulders and tried to keep the worry from reaching her eyes.
Anya closed the door and flipped the lock.
“I just left Ali’s office,” Anya paced in the small space between Raven’s desk and her guest chairs.
“Is everything okay?” Raven swallowed hard.
“She told me I can’t tell anyone about what she asked me,” Anya huffed. “I’m not even supposed to tell anyone I was up there.
“I’m guessing by your dramatic entrance that you’re about to lay that burden down on me?” Raven gave a sassy smirk from behind her computer.
“Can I?” Anya winced.
“Is it super juicy and I’m gonna want to tell?” Raven asked and warned at the same time.
“Kind of,” Anya sighed. “Why do you think I came straight here?”
“Anya, babe, what the hell?” Raven rubbed her forehead and summoned extra patience.
“We can talk to each other about it!” Anya whined. “If we only talk to each other, it’s a closed loop secret!”
“Fine,” Raven held her hand up like she was under oath. “I swear to not tell anyone but you about what you’re about to tell me.”
“She sent everyone out of the room so it was just the two of us and asked me off the record if Clarke and Lexa are fucking,” Anya said flatly.
“Are they?” Raven genuinely asked.
“That’s not the point!” Anya huffed. “But did Clarke say anything to you?”
“No,” Raven shrugged. “I haven’t really seen her much the last two weeks. She’s got all that stuff going on with her mom and she and Lexa are working around the clock. I’ve been trying to give her some space and let her come to me.”
“Lexa’s been a little funny,” Anya looked past Raven and out the window and into the streets of Manhattan as all of the images from the internet fought to get into her subconscious at once.
“We were kidding around when we said they were going to fall in love,” Raven said sternly, but Anya’s hard eyes made her second guess. “Right?”
“Is Clarke the kind of chick to spite fuck her or anything like that?” Anya chewed her lip.
“I don’t think so,” Raven said quickly with an affirming head shake. “She’s bonkers, but not that kind.”
“Did you see that new video of them that just surfaced? Clarke’s wailing on Grand Funk Railroad and Lex has a little cutie face on hammering the keyboard? It just went up an hour or two ago?” Anya brought her stare from the distance back to meet Raven’s.
“Yeah,” Raven nodded and pressed her lips together. “I saw it.”
“I’ve had the pleasure of listening to Clarke in the booth when no one else is around,” Raven smiled fondly. “Letting someone hear that is not something she does often.”
“You don’t think,” Anya began and broke into a perplexed grin.
“I think if Clarke was getting some, she’d be a lot more pleasant to be around,” Raven snorted.
“That’s a really good point, actually,” Anya lit up. “Lexa’s been like, super stressed and really sad. When she’s having sex she gets goofy and floaty and silly.”
“Sounds like we’re in the clear and you didn’t accidentally lie to Ali,” Raven wrapped up for them. “Now do you want to get the blinds and bend me over my desk or what? I don’t have any more meetings for the rest of the day and your contract is gonna start soon.”
“Oh, hell yeah!” Anya sprinted to the windows and unbuckled her belt.
***
“Welcome back, folks! I’m sitting with our finalists, Clarke Griffin and Lexa Woods, New York’s newest It Couple who have recently revealed that they’ve been dating in secret for months and months and now they’re out and about in public because they simply couldn’t keep it in anymore. Both are with Polis Records, Clarke has a successful singer/songwriter career and Lexa is the frontwoman for the popular pop rock group, The Grounders, and they have totally demolished their competition today!” The host of The Newly Weds Reboot exclaimed and pointed to Clarke and Lexa sitting side by side in oversized, plush red chairs smiling for the cameras.
The set was gaudy and had too many flashing lights. His suit was bright red, polyester, and cheesy. His smile resembled a cartoon and his voice sounded like it was plucked from a 90s gameshow.
They played against three other celebrity couples in word games and challenges in which the advantage came from knowing one another the best. All of their winnings went to charity, and now they were sitting in the finalists’ chairs headed for the lightning round.
“Ladies, you have absolutely smoked the competition up to this point! A clean sweep through the first three rounds and now you’re playing for the big prize! Lexa, what charity are you two songbirds playing for today?” The host pointed his mic at Lexa.
“Clarke and I are playing for the Alzheimer’s Association today,” Lexa replied calmly. Clarke reached across the gap between their chairs and gripped Lexa’s hand.
“Is this a charity that’s close to your heart?” He asked honestly.
Lexa turned and shot Clarke a reassuring smile.
It was Clarke’s idea to tell the truth after all of the bad press from the red carpet at the fashion show. They couldn’t surprise her with it anymore if everyone knew about it. Once it was common knowledge and not a big scoop, they’d stop asking her about it.
Theoretically.
“Clarke’s father suffers from Alzheimer’s. This is a big one for us both,” Lexa answered him with the weight of a partner who supported her future inlaws. Clarke looked down into her lap and hid a complicated, sad smile at hearing Lexa say the words out loud for her.
Lexa squeezed Clarke’s hand tighter.
They planned it. They discussed it over and over and Lexa confirmed left, right, and center that Clarke was comfortable with opening up about her parents on a national stage, but it was still difficult.
“Clarke, I’m so sorry to hear that,” the host said gently accompanied by a hum of sympathy from the studio audience.
“Thank you,” Clarke nodded solemnly with a tight smile.
“Hopefully we can lock up that cash to help! The two of you have had a near perfect run on the show so far, so let’s see if you can take down the final round and lock up fifty thousand dollars for your charity!” He bellowed, instantly back to his host caricature.
Anya, Lincoln, and Echo sat in the front row. The cameras panned to them regularly for their reactions and Anya had a hard time keeping up her act of supportive friend when Clarke and Lexa did almost too well at the couple’s game.
“Okay! Before the games began, we separated all of our couples and we asked them questions about themselves and they had to write their answers down. We’re going to ask the other member of the couple the questions, and if they match the answer their partner wrote, they win points! Let’s get their cards out here!” He motioned for an assistant to bring out full sized sheets of cardstock that had the game’s logo on one side and handed a stack to each of them.
“How much you wanna bet Ali rigged this and gave them those questions yesterday?” Anya muttered to Lincoln.
“Oh, I don’t doubt it,” he scoffed through his stage smile.
“Each correct answer is worth ten points. You only need seventy more points to reach the total needed for a win, so seven correct answers will get you there! You each have six cards, so we’ve got plenty of time and plenty of wiggle room. Ready?”
“Ready,” Clarke and Lexa replied in unison.
“Number one! Clarke! We’ve seen a whole lot of Lexa’s piano skills lately and it’s all the buzz that she’s been a pianist her whole life and has a degree in composing from the nation’s premiere music school. Who is Lexa’s favorite classical musician?”
“My honey loves Beethoven,” Clarke answered confidently with zero hesitation. Lexa grinned smugly and held up her card that had ‘Beethoven’ written in her trademark all caps handwriting.
A positive ding sound effect blared and ten more points were added to their score.
“Very nice! Six more to go! Lexa! Clarke has dozens of guitars. Which one is her favorite to play?” The host leaned closer in anticipation.
“She’s got a vintage Les Paul from the 80s. It’s pink,” Lexa grinned.
Clarke held up her sign to read ‘Pink Les Paul’ and bounced in her seat with excitement as another victorious ding rang out.
“Two for two, girls! Here we go!” The host cried. The audience cheered. “Five more correct answers locks the money up!”
“She’s got a fucking Les Paul from the 80s?” Echo turned to Anya with a raised brow. “Who the fuck is this chick?”
“Clarke, The Grounders have played shows all over the world. What city is Lexa’s favorite to perform in?” The host asked slowly.
Clarke paused in thought and glanced at Lexa with a curious little smile. Lexa shrugged back innocently and got her card ready to flip over.
“She really loves Berlin,” Clarke trailed off. The host got ready to call it. “BUT!” Clarke stopped him and held up a finger. “Her real favorite place to play is New York, New York, USA.”
“Lexa?” The host asked apprehensively.
Lexa pretended to scowl then broke into a grin as she flipped her card over to read ‘New York City.’
“This has to be rigged,” Anya muttered as she and the grounders clapped.
“Lexa loves a hometown show,” Lincoln brushed it off.
“I know that, and you know that, but how the fuck does she know that?” Anya pointed subtly at Clarke surrounded by flashing lights and silly heart shaped set pieces.
“Alright, Lexa! To keep up the streak and go four for four! What is Clarke’s favorite morning activity?” The host asked.
“This is a family show, right?” Lexa asked smoothly and turned to shoot one of the cameras a charismatic wink.
The audience burst out laughing and sent a few whistles and catcalls toward the set. Clarke covered her face with her hands as she laughed and played along with Lexa’s flirty persona.
“I’m kidding! Her favorite thing to do in the morning is sing,” Lexa answered as her chuckles died down.
“Clarke?” The host nodded towards Clarke’s sign.
“I sing in the mornings!” Clarke sang out in an over the top opera voice as she flipped over her sign that read ‘sing songs.’
“I think they’re gonna make it! What do you think?” The host pointed at the audience who cheered in response.
“We got this,” Lexa reached out and squeezed Clarke’s shoulder.
“Clarke, to make it five for five, which one of your songs is Lexa’s favorite?” The host read from his cue cards.
“Sunflowers,” Clarke said immediately as if it were common, obvious knowledge.
“Sunflowers!” Lexa shouted at the ceiling and held up her sign with the song title written neatly.
“Here we go! Lexa! Let’s keep it going! Six for six! If Clarke could change places with any recording artists and have their songs be hers and their catalog be hers and their talents be hers, who would she choose?” The host kept the pace up.
“Oooh,” Lexa paused to think and tapped her signs on her lap as she mulled it over. She looked at Clarke and scratched her chin in thought as she tried to find the answer.
“Come on, you know it, babe,” Clarke said with a reassuring smile.
“No hints, Clarke!” The host warned.
“Stevie Nicks?” Lexa winced.
“I told you you knew it!” Clarke cried and flipped her sign over to read ‘Stevie Nicks’ in her loopy handwriting.
“Hell yeah!” Lexa raised a fist in the air.
“Alright folks! Here we go! This is for all fifty grand! Clarke, if you get this next one the game is over and not only are you two victorious, but you will have an unheard of, first time on the show, perfect score in the lightning round! Are you ready?” The host hyped up the crowd.
“Hit me!” Clarke tried to settle in her seat but she was too caught up in it all.
“Lexa is a self proclaimed bookwork and she reads a lot,” the host began.
“She really does,” Clarke agreed. “Her place is full of books,” Clarke playfully rolled her eyes.
“What is Lexa’s favorite book?” The host asked slowly and tensely.
Lexa’s face sank and she tried to hide it.
She knew this was something they had never discussed.
“Oh!” Clarke snapped her fingers quickly and turned to Lexa. She gestured with her hands to get the words to come out. Lexa looked on in agonizing anticipation. “It’s tan and it has purple writing! What is it called! Shit!” Clarke blurted out, then caught her curse and covered her mouth.
“We’ll edit that out, but we do need an answer, Clarke,” the host pressed.
“The Alchemist!” Clarke cried out triumphantly.
Lexa stared back at her with a gaping mouth and thrilled, wide eyes.
“Is that it?” Clarke cringed and shrank into her chair.
Lexa silently and dramatically flipped her card over.
“The Alchemist, baby!” Lexa exclaimed. They both lit up, dropped their cards and jumped into an excited embrace right there on stage.
“We have a winner!” The host cried as the show’s theme blasted on the soundstage and balloons fell from the ceiling around them. Their mics were cut and they could speak freely in the chaos.
“How the hell did you know that?!” Lexa leaned in so Clarke could hear her over the noise.
“It’s on your bedside table and has a bunch of folded pages and it looks like you’ve read it a thousand times. It’s all banged up. I noticed it on content day when I was in your bed all that time and I remember thinking you were such a fucking geek cause that’s like an English class book,” Clarke said through a big, honest smile.
They hadn’t let go of one another yet. Clarke had her arms around Lexa’s neck with Lexa’s hands planted firmly at her waist. From the audience's perspective, they appeared to be in a sweet lover’s moment.
“That book is a classic and it’s absolutely beautiful,” Lexa said back firmly. “You might actually like it. It would be good for you with everything you’re going through right now,” she added as an afterthought.
“What I’m going through?” Clarke asked with confused brows and that little thing she did with her lips when she was trying to figure Lexa out.
“Learning about your true self and learning about love in all of it’s forms,” Lexa said quickly before the cameras were all over them and they had to be back in the spotlight.
It took every fiber of Clarke’s true self not to react to Lexa’s words as they were handed a giant prop check for fifty grand for their charity and had to smile for the cameras.
And hug for the cameras and kiss for the cameras and act like a happy couple who had just won a game based on their love and understanding of each other for the cameras.
The fanfare quickly died down as they were whisked off the set.
“Hey, um, my feet hurt a little bit? I’m gonna take a second,” Clarke pointed over her shoulder with her thumb towards her dressing room.
“Of course,” Lexa smiled in understanding. “Take all the time you need.”
“Hey, Hot Shot! Nice work out there!” Anya shouted as she and the grounders found Lexa near the set.
“Thank you very much,” Lexa chuckled. “I appreciate your support in all this.”
“I’m glad one of Ali’s scams at least got some money to a good cause,” Anya rolled her eyes and clapped Lexa on the shoulder.
“What do you mean?” Lexa furrowed her brow.
“She rigged the game, right? You two got all these questions and a heads up on all the challenges, didn’t you?” Anya’s laughs died down.
“No?” Lexa shook her head.
“Come on, yes you did. You can tell us,” Anya pointed at Echo and Lincoln.
“We just had to be on the show. We didn’t have to win,” Lexa said evenly.
“So all of that was real?” Lincoln asked with wide eyes.
“Technically, I guess,” Lexa shrugged. “We didn’t cheat if that’s what you’re implying.”
Anya studied Lexa’s face closely for an uncomfortable amount of time.
“Are you sure?” Anya finally asked in an extra curious, high pitched tone.
“What's up with you lately?” Lexa let out a frustrated huff.
“What’s up with YOU lately?” Anya bit back.
“I’m literally just trying to do my job and save yours!” Lexa snapped.
“And there’s nothing extra going on?” Anya stayed tense.
“Extra what?” Lexa yelped.
“You tell me!” Anya tossed her hands up. A few crewmembers from the show looked their way.
“Can you keep your voice down please?” Lexa grumbled.
“Hey,” Clarke popped up behind them. “I’m good now. Sorry about that.”
“Anything else you want to accuse me of? We have press after this,” Lexa asked Anya with a resentful look.
“No. Go,” Anya sighed and waved her off. “I didn’t mean it like that. Just stressed out.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow morning,” Lexa scowled.
She didn’t even realize she was doing it, but as she and Clarke walked off to meet their car to take them to the next spotlight, Lexa’s hand found its home around Clarke’s waist.
***
The following morning, Clarke and The Grounders were back to work bright and early.
Anya and Lexa exchanged disgruntled apologies and blamed everything on stress before the rest of them showed up. Working in such close quarters and being such close friends for such a long time allowed the two best friends to quickly brush any tension under the rug.
For now.
“I’m expecting a phone call at some point about my mother, but outside of that, I’m all yours for the day,” Clarke eased onto the couch in The Grounders’ practice room. “Lexa gave me the list of all the songs you know and have been learning. I should be good to do all of these.”
“So how do we do this?” Lincoln asked Lexa who sat at her piano behind a stack of paperwork. “We haven’t really been part of the whole fake thing yet.”
“Clarke and I have found it’s best if we set the scene for what’s happening from the public’s perspective to get ourselves in the proper headspace,” Lexa replied as she fussed with her phone.
“The idea is that she and I have been together since February, so all of you would be comfortable around me and you were all helping keep that secret for us as well,” Clarke chimed in.
“I developed my own storyline that I was about it before you two were,” Anya chuckled and adjusted one of her cymbals. “These two are into it. Our plot is that we like you,” she added and pointed at Lincoln and Echo standing with their guitars tuning up.
“I like you for real,” Lincoln shrugged at Clarke.
“Thank you,” Clarke chuckled awkwardly.
“Since Clarke is secretly very talented, and so are all of us, the partyline is that we all started playing covers together in our practice space for fun,” Lexa explained to the band. “Now that she and I are out and public, we’re going to record the covers for reels in a way that’s supposed to just look like a fun thing we’re all doing as musicians that get along, but it’s a precursor to the new song we’re doing.”
“Gotcha,” Anya nodded.
“Smart,” Echo nodded with her.
“Let’s warm up first, practice a little, then we’ll set up the camera and shoot it in a way that looks natural and not like we’ve been practicing,” Lexa offered up a cheeky grin. “Mics and recording are already checked and ready. Ali’s team took care of it,” she added and pointed at the multiple cameras around the room that she could control from her phone. They were set to catch different angles so they could get close ups as needed.
“You two do this shit all day?” Echo glanced back and forth between them.
“All day every day,” Lexa sighed.
“Sounds awful,” Echo spat out.
“It’s not all bad,” Clarke said honestly before she could stop it from coming out. “A lot of it is way better than I thought it was going to be.”
Anya caught Lexa’s cheeks pinking out of the corner of her eye.
“I figure we just take it from the top of the list unless anyone has any issues?” Lexa looked around the room for opinions.
“About that,” Lincoln cleared his throat uncomfortably. “Lex, ‘Son of A Preacher Man?’ Really? Dusty right off the bat? Those are some serious vocals.”
“Clarke, we mean no disrespect,” Anya jumped in with him.
“None taken,” Clarke said evenly. “Yet.”
“She can do it,” Lexa replied in total confidence with a nod at Clarke.
“That’s fucking bold, dude,” Anya met Lexa’s eyes across the room.
“She can do it,” Lexa had a new ease about her as she settled in on the piano bench. “Can you do it?” She moved her eyes to Clarke who stood up and took her place at a standing mic right beside Lexa’s piano bench.
It was put there so they’d be in the same shot, but they’d both be lying if they said they didn’t enjoy the closeness.
“I know it,” Clarke strained as she gave a big stretch.
“The rest of us will find our usual spots in the harmonies. Cool?” Lexa worked to keep Clarke right next to her out of her view as best she could.
She hated how often she caught herself noticing every last detail of her fake partner lately.
They were all styled to look like they weren’t styled. The Grounders were in sneakers and black jeans and dark shirts. Lincoln’s head was freshly shaved. The girls all had full faces of makeup, but nothing like their stage looks. Lexa was still pushing boundaries with her glasses, but her eyeliner was present.
They put Clarke in a pair of cut off shorts, a careless white t shirt and a head full of styled curls. They were all a little surprised by how long and shapely her legs were.
Lexa avoided the perfect slice of Clarke’s midriff right beside her face like her life depended on it as Clarke stretched her arms over her head and let out a satisfied grunt.
“Can I hear the opening notes real quick?” Clarke pointed at Echo who obliged. Clarke closed her eyes and listened carefully, nodding her head and pointing in the air with one of her fingers as she mentally went through the pitches. “Alright. Let’s do it.”
“Here we go,” Anya sighed with wide eyes and counted them off.
The Grounders found their groove instantly and it sounded like they’d played the song hundreds of times from the solid opening.
Clarke jumped right in with both feet and sultry tones as if she'd rehearsed it with them all day.
Lincoln and Echo and Anya met impressed gazes throughout the room as Clarke made her way through the first verse and chorus. Lexa sent them smug smirks from behind the piano out of Clarke’s view when her voice came out in full force and all of them leaned back.
As the song swelled, Clarke kept up. She hit every note. She knew when to hold back, when to belt, when to make it her own. The band brought it on home with her and sang in their solid four part harmonies to back her up over soulful licks and Lexa’s improvisation on the keys.
They closed the song out and no one spoke at first.
They let the room reverberate with the aftershocks of great art made together.
“How was that?” Clarke asked openly as she caught her breath.
Her phone rang.
“Shit, that’s my mom’s doctor,” Clarke sighed at the screen. It was on the piano and the vibrations made the strings inside rumble gently. “This should be quick.”
“Yeah, of course, go,” Anya said with an understanding smile and pointed her sticks at the door. Clarke went into the hallway to take the call privately.
The band sat in stiff silence until she was gone.
“Well?” Lexa asked hopefully.
“Pfft,” Echo surprised them all by speaking up first. “I mean, even I kind of want to fuck her after that.”
“Big time,” Lincoln agreed with bugged eyes. “Respectfully,” he tacked on urgently.
“Maybe the fun kind of disrespectfully,” Anya joked. “Has she always been this hot and this talented?”
“For fuck’s sake, you guys,” Lexa whined and dropped her face into her hands.
“She’s great,” Lincoln assured her. “This is going to be so much fun!”
“She’s going home!” Clarke burst back in with a huge grin on her face.
“Really?!” Lexa jumped up from her seat.
“Yes! She’s doing really well. They’re going to get her transfer ready and take her back to their facility tonight,” Clarke replied with her phone clenched in both hands.
“Clarke, that’s so amazing!” Lexa said with a serious sweetness that made the whole band collectively cock their heads.
Clarke fell into Lexa’s arms that opened up instinctively and held her tight.
“Fuckin’ A, I’m so relieved,” Clarke sighed and let a little laugh escape as she rested her head on Lexa’s shoulder.
“We’re happy to hear that, Clarke,” Lincoln spoke up.
Anya couldn’t find the words to as she took in the two of them in their very real embrace behind a closed door with most of the few people who knew they didn’t have to hold each other like that.
“Thank you so much,” Clarke replied sincerely and untangled herself from Lexa’s arms. “I’m feeling way less tense and stressed so I can do a much better job now.”
“Was that you doing a bad job before?” Lincoln asked slowly and carefully. Echo snorted and Anya sighed.
“I was all over the place,” Clarke brushed him off and adjusted her mic stand. “How many more run-throughs do you want before we roll the cameras?”
“Maybe one more for good luck,” Lexa chuckled and shot Anya a look.
They plowed through the list of songs and spent the day laughing and creating new versions of old hits and egging one another on and changing seats and playing each other’s instruments.
Clarke and Anya switched places and Anya took lead vocals and Clarke backed her up on the drums through a ridiculous, Muppet voice version of Manfred Mann’s ‘Do Wah Diddy Diddy’ that had Lincoln on the floor clutching his sides.
Echo fit an 80s hairband style solo into a cover of Amy Winehouse’s ‘Tears Dry On Their Own’ while Clarke laid on her back on the piano belting it out like a lounge singer.
They took turns picking the song and taking the lead and they recorded the whole thing.
Lincoln’s turn was up near the end of the day.
“Clarke, I take back anything I ever assumed about you,” Lincoln laughed as they wrapped up an absolutely haunting version of Nirvana’s ‘All Apologies’ that they took over the top with Clarke singing and playing his bass while he played a violin.
“Honestly? Same, y’all. This has been incredible,” Clarke chuckled as she handed his guitar back to him. “We should do this way more often.”
“It’s my turn to pick! White Stripes! Seven Nation Army,” Lincoln said confidently as he settled his bass on his hips.
“Are you an eighth grader in your first week of bass lessons?” Lexa laughed.
“Laugh all you want, that is a classic for bassists,” Lincoln tsked.
“I love that one,” Clarke sided with him. “Get up, Lex. We don’t need a piano on this one. Let’s try out some harmonies on this and see if we can’t come up with something cool,” Clarke beckoned Lexa off the piano bench and she hopped up right away.
“Alright, I’m in, but I want to take a quick break after this one,” Anya agreed as she thudded her bass drum a few times and got her head around the upcoming song. “You wanna smoke a butt after this, Clarke?”
“Oh, uh,” Clarke stuttered nervously. “I quit.”
“Jesus, Ali made you quit smoking?! Is nothing sacred to that monster?” Anya looked up from her seat at Clarke with a horrified look.
“Ali didn’t make me,” Clarke shrugged innocently. Lexa took up her spot beside Clarke at the mic. “She hates kissing me when I’ve been smoking, so I stopped,” Clarke playfully tugged on the hem of Lexa’s black t shirt.
When Clarke flipped her head down to rake her sweaty curls into a messy ponytail, Anya, Echo, and Lincoln all snapped their heads up to Lexa with expectant looks.
Lexa opened her mouth to speak, but the only thing to find its way out was a stressed, tight, high pitched nervous laugh.
“I mean, they make me kiss her,” Lexa finally found some words to fumble through.
“And you’ve been a really good sport about it,” Clarke chuckled and backhanded Lexa in the stomach. “You want the high notes on this bitch or can I have ‘em?”
“All yours,” Lexa swallowed hard.
Anya couldn’t take her eyes off of the two of them the whole song. Ali’s words about Lexa keeping secrets knocked around in her skull with each hit of her drums. Their chemistry filled the room. She forgot periodically throughout the day that Clarke wasn’t Lexa’s girlfriend. She forgot that they absolutely were not sleeping together. She forgot they weren’t all friends and this wasn’t real at all.
It felt too right.
Her scowl faded as she watched Clarke and Lexa harmonize and move their hips in unison and tap their toes at the same time and laugh between verses and grin at each other with grins they never directed at anyone else.
Rather than feel skeptical or aggravated or upset or nervous that there was something Lexa wasn’t telling her, Anya realized as Clarke and Lexa’s voices blended perfectly and their joyful smiles mirrored each other and how happy they looked making music together just how hard the whole thing must be.
And that there was probably a whole lot of stuff Lexa wasn’t even telling herself yet.
As she crashed her cymbals and rolled her snare, Anya decided to stop worrying about it and to just be ready if and when Lexa felt like she had something to say.
Judging by the mooneyes she had for Clarke all afternoon, Anya assumed that time was going to come sooner than later.
***
Riding the high of creating music together, Clarke and Lexa had a fake date to a movie premiere that evening involving red carpet clothes and a specific script to stick to, but their photoready grins were the real deal. The afterparty was dead and they spent most of it making one another laugh by the bar.
The next morning had them getting shuttled all over Manhattan for appearances on podcasts and webshows to talk up their plans to record together and their blossoming love that everyone from every corner of the internet was newly obsessed with.
The evening brought dinner together at a hip Filipino spot that was making headlines. The chef was a fan of Clarke’s and they were showered in extra dishes and overflowing hospitality.
Saturday night found the two fake lovers in the back of another town car in clothes picked out for them headed to a party for the sole purpose of being seen at it together.
“Do you know this guy?” Lexa asked. They were on their way to the opening of a new club in Midtown that a young, prominent mumble rapper on the label owned half of. Clarke was on the list and Lexa was her plus one.
“Not really,” Clarke shrugged. “We’ve met a few times. We presented an award at the MTV VMAs together last fall.”
“Which one?” Lexa brought her eyes off the lines of hopeful party goers and paparazzi and grinned at Clarke.
“Best use of CGI in a music video,” Clarke laughed at the absurdity of it. “He was very nice to me and he knew who I was, which I found surprising. I guess I didn’t realize he’s old enough to drink, let alone own a club.”
“He’s young enough that he didn’t get to go to all of the white parties back in the day,” Lexa chuckled. “This is retro for him, huh?” She pointed at Clarke’s flowy white dress.
They kept Lexa as rock and roll as they could in a pair of tight white jeans, white doc martens and a form fitting, thin white tank top that left little of her figure to the imagination. Her make up was softer than usual, and they styled her hair the way Clarke liked that showed off her cheekbones and jawline.
Clarke sat beside her in a flowy white dress with skinny straps and a high slit that gave a great view of her cleavage and a sneak peek of her legs in all of their spray-tanned glory. White pumps, a smokey eye, and big curls brought her look together. They were both decked out in gold jewelry, big smiles, and new nerves that they couldn’t explain, didn’t want to, and hoped to keep hidden from each other.
“I can’t remember the last white party I went to,” Clarke half smiled. “No red wine tonight, okay?” She tacked on with a smirk.
“Hey, if that wine never spilled on you, none of this would’ve happened and you’d still be treating me like crap and hanging out by yourself,” Lexa jokingly shook a finger at her.
“True,” Clarke nodded softly. “You got me there.”
Lexa expected a snarky remark or a witty retort or something she’d need a quick and salty response for, but nothing but a warm smile came her way.
“It’s been a really long week of press. How do you feel about not answering any questions and just blasting through this red carpet straight to the bar?” Lexa asked with a conspiratorial smile as they pulled up to the entrance.
“Ooo, I love it when you talk dirty to me,” Clarke wagged her brows as Lexa stepped out of the car and turned to offer her hand to Clarke.
“Then you’re gonna want to be all over me so they think we’re so lost in love that we can’t hear them,” Lexa said lowly as she pulled Clarke in close and snuggled their faces together.
“I can do that,” Clarke smirked before turning Lexa’s face in for a full on open mouthed kiss. Lexa’s breath hitched and she hoped Clarke would chalk it up to surprise. It looked like passion in all the photos caught amongst the deluge of flashbulbs.
They ignored everyone and strutted with confidence wrapped up in one another until they were inside.
“Nice work. Let’s get some clear liquor to celebrate,” Lexa laughed and smoothly escorted Clarke through the room.
The club was huge.
It had all the details and perfect essence of big clubs meant for dancing that were all the rage at the turn of the century. Low blue lighting and curved bars with round booths made them feel like they’d left Manhattan and walked right into Miami in 2003.
The strong, confident way Lexa led Clarke through a crowd made Clarke’s knees wobble. The reasons Lexa held her like that and guided her like that and looked after her like that were all fake, but the sense of security and safety and warmth it riled up in Clarke couldn’t be more real.
She hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it.
A bunch of artists from the label were all over the club and Clarke was surprised to find how many of them actually knew Lexa. The professional work friends schtick was something Clarke didn’t expect Lexa to be so good at, and she was really, really good at it, but she also seemed to know and get along with so many of them in a sincere way.
She remembered names and anecdotes. They knew things about her that weren’t googleable. They all had history and stories and knew one another. She was funny and she was charming and she had a bunch of guys from a psychedelic rock band and a glam metal band all decked out in their wild white outfits roaring laughing at dad jokes with her pop folk girlfriend on her arm.
Clarke couldn’t believe how nice it felt.
A handful of younger hip-hop acts stopped Lexa to comment how fly she and Clarke looked together and had something to say about her swagger and her BDE that rather than get flustered or embarassed by, she sent it right back with a swift nod and a wink over her shoulder as she escorted Clarke back to the bar.
Clarke spent so much of their history not being able to stand Lexa that she wasn’t able to see how much everyone else loved her.
It was kinda hot.
“I was never much for the club scene,” Lexa said a bunch of vodka sodas later as they settled into a booth together so they could hear each other talk over the loud, lulling mumble rap that filled the place up.
The dancefloor held groups of people standing and talking and occasionally bopping their heads, but the vibe was calm over all.
Lexa had her arm over the back of the booth and Clarke snuggled right in beside her.
“I did my time in the New York club scene when I was younger. I didn’t really like it, but I went out a lot so I could network and meet people and advance my career,” Clarke shrugged and pushed the ice in her drink around with the straw. “I managed to keep a good balance of making contacts in the industry, making contacts to get coke, and hooking up with the right people.”
“How very New York of you,” Lexa laughed.
“What can I say? I was young and ambitious and running from myself,” Clarke laughed with her.
“We probably walked by each other all the time and didn’t know it. Me and the band were all in school when you moved to the city,” Lexa said thoughtfully. “We all moved to Manhattan at the same time.”
“I never thought of that,” Clarke glanced away and did the math.
“But we were more into burgers and dive bars and studying than clubbing and networking and blow,” Lexa smirked slyly. “I’m sure you wouldn’t have given me a second glance in my collegiate nerd days.”
“Hey, I said you looked sexy in those glasses and I meant it,” Clarke came back right away.
Lexa’s jaw twitched and she couldn’t find a response.
“I mean,” Clarke cringed. She looked over Lexa’s confused face and something softened inside of her. “You know what? Fuck it. You do look sexy in your glasses and I did mean it. You’re my friend, you’re hot, and that’s just true.”
“Thank you,” Lexa laughed it off, but crossed her legs anxiously.
“You told me I looked hot at the fashion show!” Clarke yelped defensively. Lexa burst out laughing.
“You look hot all the fucking time!” Lexa blurted out coaxed by booze and the warmth of Clarke’s body beside her. “You’re just hot! It’s a fact! Why do you think all of these dudes are treating me the way they are tonight? It’s respect! You look super hot right now and they think I’m hitting that!”
“Shut up,” Clarke felt herself blush immediately and thanked the low lighting for making it hard to tell. She covered the electric grin bombarding past her reserve at Lexa’s honesty.
“Isn’t that the whole point of this thing?” Lexa suavely recovered and pointed between the two of them. “We’re hot opposites or whatever Ali called us?”
On cue, Clarke’s phone lit up on the table.
She picked it up and squinted at the message.
‘Get her on that dancefloor and put on a show. Draw enough attention and you can do your sexit routine by 1am.’
“Ulgh, what does she want?!” Lexa whined.
Clarke huffed a big sigh through a scowl and typed back ‘Get me some music with an actual beat and you’ve got a deal.’
“She’s back on her bullshit,” Clarke muttered to Lexa and showed her the text.
‘Hold please’ lit up on her phone.
“What’s up, what’s up, party people! Time to take it back to the era that birthed our boy! Get your asses on the floor and shake those money makers to the sounds that make you wanna get dooooowwwwn!” The DJ cried as the opening shouts of ‘Pass The Courvoisier’ shook the room.
‘You’re welcome. Go get ‘em, Tiger.’
“How the actual fuck does she do this?!” Clarke cried and frantically looked around the room.
“I used to think I wanted to know how she does it? But at this point I’m just gonna believe it’s magic,” Lexa shook her head.
“If it is magic, it’s the fucking dark arts for sure,” Clarke grumbled and slammed the rest of her drink. “Alright Sweetheart, you ready to party?” Clarke nodded towards the dancefloor with a silly grin.
“Lead the way, Love,” Lexa laughed as Clarke pulled her out of her seat.
The whole room flocked to the dancefloor as the lighting changed and the vibe shot through the roof. The musicians in their thirties and forties were transported right back to the clubs and house parties and memories of their glory days and were all exactly drunk and high enough to toss any and all inhibition aside.
One of the glam rockers did the worm. A crew of country music guys had fast and furious footwork that had the mumble rappers freaking out and jumping around and joining in. A girl group typically classified as tame in the same lanes as Clarke dropped it so low they were in danger of not getting back up.
Clarke and Lexa looked for their groove together in the middle of it all.
“Lexa!” Clarke shouted over the music from her typical spot in Lexa’s arms being led in dance. Lexa shot back a quizzical face. “Are you trying to do the foxtrot with me right now to the Ying Yang Twins?” Clarke couldn’t help laughing as she asked.
“Maybe a little!” Lexa yelled back over the music. She had a bashful flush in her cheeks.
“Can you not?” Clarke said frankly through the warmest, happiest, biggest smile.
It was Clarke’s real smile and it bulldozed the dam holding back Lexa’s real feelings that exploded inside her any time she saw it.
“This party just got fun!” Clarke leaned into Lexa’s ear so she didn’t have to shout so loud over the bass. “Just because we have to be here for fake reasons doesn’t mean we’re not allowed to actually enjoy ourselves! Just be yourself! Just dance with me because we’re us! We don’t have to be anything else to sell it! Make it ours, remember?”
“You think you can handle all these moves?” Lexa flirted back and followed Clarke’s body to the hip-hop beats.
Clarke spun around and pulled off a flawless bend and snap with her ass backed right up into Lexa’s hips with an uncomfortably perfect twerk. She brought it back up with a hand behind Lexa’s neck as their bodies fell into the groove and rolled together like they were built for it. Clarke knew exactly what to do and exactly when to do it and kept Lexa guessing how to keep up.
“You want a bucket for these?” Clarke smirked with lidded eyes.
It wasn’t salty, it wasn’t cheeky and it wasn’t goofy.
It was unbelievably, intentionally, incredibly sexy.
“Let ‘em spill,” Lexa flirted back, grabbed Clarke’s hands and with strong moves spun her out and back and dipped her like only Lexa knew how.
The laugh that came out of Clarke cut through the music and set a fire ablaze inside of Lexa.
It wasn’t in her brain or her heart or her guts where she usually felt confusing twitches of emotion when Clarke did something Lexa couldn’t explain why she liked so much.
It was between her legs and there was nothing confusing about it.
Everyone around them whooped and cheered. Clarke laughed off the attention and fell right back into a grind with Lexa and everyone around them shouting the lyrics out.
They all sang along to the rap songs they were raised on. Drinks got passed around the floor and everyone was so happy to be silly and have fun with one another. The joy was infectious and the DJ played the crowd like a fiddle queueing up classic after classic after classic.
They ended up dancing with other people and pulling out old dance moves in groups. Lexa could hear Clarke’s voice singing loudly over Biz Markie along with a group of big dudes from a Nu Metal group that looked ridiculous in white versions of their over the top rock wear as he rocked back and forth with her and shouted out the classic lyrics.
Lexa was in the line up with the girl group shaking what her mama gave her and Clarke pointed with a gleeful open mouthed grin for the country dudes she was doing the sprinkler with to take it in.
The line up of songs was so good that the room cheered as each new one began and they all sang along.
Clarke lit up when she fell back into Lexa’s arms. Their bodies aligned and picked right up where they left off.
“I didn’t know you knew the words to so many Ludacris songs!” Lexa laughed.
“I fuckin’ love Luda,” Clarke said frankly and danced closer as they moved to the music.
“There’s nothing in the world that would make me from six weeks ago believe that I’d be at the VIP opening of a nightclub owned by a mumble rapper having the time of my life dancing to Outkast with Clarke Griffin and totally loving every second of it,” Lexa grinned as she pulled Clarke in closer. Her protective hand that stood post at Clarke’s lower back lingered lower on that perfect spot where Clarke’s hip, back and ass all met.
“Right?” Clarke laughed. “This whole thing is easily the weirdest thing I’ve ever done or been a part of, but I don’t think I’ve ever had so much fun in my entire life.”
“Really?” Lexa couldn’t stop the dopey grin from spreading further on her face. She hoped to blame the booze, but knew she couldn’t. She tried to look Clarke in the eye but the sweat on Clarke’s forehead and chest had her hypnotized.
“No question,” Clarke replied firmly. “I had completely forgotten how to enjoy myself. I don’t think I’ve felt real joy like this since I was a kid.”
“I hate that you went so long without it,” Lexa snuggled Clarke a little closer and dipped a little lower with the rhythm.
“I hate that I went so long without you,” Clarke said way too quickly.
They met eyes and for a brief moment the rest of the room slowed down and the music dulled just long enough for them to silently beg the other to say it first.
“All the hottest Polis bitches get more shots!!!!” One of the hip-hop guys interrupted them with a tray full of bright blue shots and a grin sporting the loudest grill. “I’ve got two for you, booboos!”
They each immediately took a shot in each hand, threw them back then slammed the empties on his tray.
They held one another’s curious eye contact.
“Yo! That’s what’s up, foxy chicks!” He laughed and danced away with his shots to offer them around the floor.
“Ali said I can start the sexit after 1,” Clarke said evenly. “It’s 1:30.”
“I don’t know if it’s the blue drinks or the rocker dudes starting a limbo over there, but I don’t really want to leave,” Lexa matched Clarke’s tone.
They both stiffly studied the other desperately looking for truths.
“I don’t know if it’s the Mystikal or the contact high from all these rappers smoking blunts, but I don’t either,” Clarke carried on diplomatically to hide how she really felt.
“What should we do about it?” Lexa raised a challenging brow and kept her hands planted firmly on her hips so she wouldn’t do anything she’d regret with them.
Lexa’s shirt was covered in dancefloor sweat and spilled drinks and Clarke’s make up and it clung to her torso too perfectly.
Clarke bit her lip and wrestled with what to do for a few bars of the DJ’s beats.
The blue drinks shook hands with the vodka in her stomach and they decided together.
She pulled Lexa in for an earnest, heavy, slow kiss. Startled, Lexa sucked a big breath in through her nose before her hands found their way back to Clarke’s body to pull her in to deepen their embrace.
Clarke pulled back and shivered as a shaky sigh snuck past her wet lips. Lexa’s body tried to fold in on itself at the delicious, tiny whimper Clarke let out as she pinched her eyes shut.
That kiss was real and they both felt the floor fall out from under them at the same time.
“As much fun as I’m having, I think we should get out of here,” Clarke said breathlessly as her chest heaved.
“Good plan,” Lexa nodded quickly before catching Clarke’s lips with her own again.
They stumbled to the exit all over each other the whole way and made out ferociously on the sidewalk waiting for their car to pull up. They fell into it with a chuckle from security as he closed the door behind them.
“51st and 9th,” Lexa got out breathlessly for the driver between the kisses they couldn’t stop in the backseat of the car. Clarke had her hands in Lexa’s hair and her hips jumped forward at Lexa’s strong hands holding her waist in an all new way.
“You got it, Miss Woods,” he replied.
Hearing her own address slowly shook Clarke out of the sloppy dreamstate Lexa’s lips had her in.
“Wait!” Clarke pushed Lexa off, but caught another quick kiss on her way. “Wait! Stop! Wait!”
Lexa sat back, stunned.
“We’re drunk and high on bliss and getting carried away with this thing,” Clarke held her hands up and slid over on the seat to put some space between them. “We’re getting too close and too comfortable and this is getting too confusing.”
They both had wide, terrified, hungry eyes and heaving chests and screaming loins as they stared at each other frantically searching for the right thing to do.
“Yup,” Lexa swallowed hard and opened and closed her eyes a few times to bring herself back to reality. “That is definitely exactly what is happening.”
“I’m so sorry. That whole experience was fucking captivating in a way I do not know how to process,” Clarke had wide eyes transfixed on the back of the driver’s head in front of her to keep them off of Lexa’s inviting body, messy hair, and swollen lips.
“In a bad way?” Lexa asked in a small voice after a thick pause between them.
“In the best way,” Clarke’s voice was tight and had the hallmark waiver in it that Lexa had come to recognize as holding back overwhelmed tears.
It took her back to brunch and back to the hospital and back to reality that this magical night was one night of ninety numbered nights that were going to be over before they knew it.
The unparalleled, joyful magic between them would all be erased by a new lie that one of them hurt the other.
Lexa’s heart sank and she wanted to cry a little bit, too.
“C’mere,” Lexa nodded her head for Clarke to slide back over and cuddle up beside her. “It’s okay. It’s confusing and it’s weird and it’s getting really hard and you’re right. It’s all just part of it.”
“Part of what?” Clarke bit her lip and turned to look at Lexa with the deepest, most confused but desperate eyes.
“I don’t fucking know anymore,” Lexa sighed with a solemn, defeated shrug.
It was painful how good it felt when Clarke let her weight settle into Lexa’s side and rested her head on her shoulder as they sat in silence for the rest of the ride.
Hey everyone! October is right around the corner and that means Clextober23 is coming up! 7 days of Clexa will begin on the 25th of October this year, so get ready!
We can have all things Clexa with the spooky vibe of Halloween or Autumn sweater weather feels. Reblog or send this post out to anyone you think will enjoy it!
How To Participate:
Fanart, fanvids, fanfics, mood-boards, photo manipulations, fic recs, anything that screams Clexa with a spice of Fall/October/Halloween - let’s see it!
7 Days of Clexa:
This will be 7 days of Halloween/Fall-themed posts.
Reblog Share Repeat!
Send out ideas/prompts to your favorite writers and artists! Don’t forget to tag!
#Clextober23 #7DaysofClexa
Oct. 25 - Day 1: Spirit Week!
Oct. 26 - Day 2: Pumpkin Spice & Everything Nice
Oct. 27 - Day 3: Annual Fall Festival
Oct. 28 - Day 4: Magical Nights
Oct. 29 - Day 5: The Other Side
Oct. 30 - Day 6: Vampires vs. Werewolves
Oct. 31 - Day 7: Free Day
Anya and Raven have a lot of thoughts about what's going on while Clarke and Lexa have to start creating music together and are pleasantly surprised by the other's talents. Misunderstandings on fake dates bring them closer and Clarke has a clever new way to get out of the public's eye. Clarke lets Lexa into how tough her life really is, and Lexa takes pride in her protective role which, it turns out, isn't really that fake at all.
Get caught up on Part Two, or Start From The Beginning if you want.
Part Three below, 12,423 words:
“Do you think it’s weird that they’re able to pull this off so well?” Raven asked. She lay flat on her back naked in her bed in the wee hours of the morning after the show and the after party which she and Anya slipped out of quietly together before it wrapped up.
“Nah,” Anya, who lay beside her in the same bare and spent fashion, replied as she exhaled a cloud of smoke from a weed pen and passed it to Raven. “They’re full time actresses. You know better than anyone that Clarke’s whole career is an act.”
“I know, but like,” Raven trailed off. Her eyes volleyed between lingering on the slowly dissipating vapor clouds in the low light and falling closed as she gently ran her fingers up and down Anya’s thigh.
“They were at each other’s throats last week and now they’re so, so good at being in fake love?” Anya chuckled.
“Like SO good at it!” Raven laughed.
After the show, Clarke and Raven were present in the VIP meet and greet room. Clarke was funny and loving and supportive and full of smiles that Raven would’ve sworn up and down that the two of them had been doing this for months and that none of it was pretend.
At the after party, Lexa was polite and kind and a total gentlewoman to Clarke. The two of them spent the whole night all over each other, talking quietly, holding hands, snuggling and whispering in a corner whenever anyone looked their way, and even spent a little longer than necessary for show on a dive bar dance floor together. They moved together like they’d been practicing for years, and Clarke’s laughs as Lexa whipped her around were too real.
“From what Lex has told me, Ali and her bizarre group of robot assistants have thought of everything and the training is extremely intense. Did you know they’re mandated to be touching at all times?” Anya rolled over into Raven’s touch and propped herself up on her elbow so she could see her face.
“They’re certainly following that rule to the letter,” Raven rolled her eyes before letting them finally close as she settled against Anya’s body.
“I mean, good, since if they don’t, my ass is on the line,” Anya tried to hide the notes of genuine stress in her voice and failed when a nervous, breathy laugh snuck through.
“You’re one of the most talented studio drummers Polis has on the roster right now. Believe me. I’ve seen all of them. If this thing falls through, I have enough pull that I can request you every time I need one whether you’re on the label or not. You’ll have plenty of steady work,” Raven dropped her voice to a sweet and soothing tone she saved only for Anya behind closed doors.
“I don’t need you giving me hand outs,” Anya scowled.
“It’s not a hand out! I know we don’t fuck when we’re recording your songs together, but we do when you’re on someone else’s, so my judgement of your studio skills is not clouded by how badly I want your face between my thighs. Anytime I’ve had you do studio drums for other artists you’re lightyears ahead of all of the other drummers I call, much easier to work with, a lot more fun to look at in the booth all day, and way more talented than everyone else,” Raven replied steadily and strongly as she threaded her fingers into the ends of Anya’s messy stage hair. “You’re always my first choice if I can have you, personally and professionally.”
A relieved, shy smile twitched across Anya’s sex-swollen lips.
“So, about that,” Anya began in a tentative, low voice. “Do you think these collab tracks between Clarke and The Grounders count as my songs?”
“Technically they are Grounders tracks and Clarke is a featured artist, so yes, I do,” Raven replied as diplomatically as she could considering Anya’s breasts were in her face. “Something about how everyone gets paid and who has what studio time and which one of them needs it more for whatever this dumb plan is.”
“Sure, but Clarke and Lexa are doing all the work. We might as well just be a studio band,” Anya pressed.
“It’s two tracks, An. You’re going to do it in like four takes. This contract will be a week at best,” Raven said between kisses to Anya’s chest and collar bones.
“Fine,” Anya huffed.
“Why are you pushing this so hard?” Raven leaned back so she could see Anya’s eyes when she spoke. They always told the truth when Anya couldn’t find the words to do it.
“We’ve got a good thing going right now,” Anya looked down at the sheets. She knew Raven’s trick. “Maybe we should see if it matters if we’re sleeping together when we’re also working together on my music with an easy, short contract.”
“Seeing as though I still can’t move my legs because of what you just did to me, I don’t think I’m in a sound state of mind to make such a big decision about changing the dynamic of what we have together based on your own requests,” Raven said slowly and carefully. “Especially with all of the new chaos and stress around Clarke and Lexa’s fauxmance.”
“You’re right,” Anya agreed reluctantly.
“We need to all just focus on getting through this thing. You’re Lexa’s best friend and I think she’s gonna need you a lot this summer,” Raven relaxed into the pillows and let the lingering tingles in her body wash over her.
“What makes you say that?” Anya slid an open palm across Raven’s belly.
“I’ve seen glimpses of the real Clarke, maybe more than she’s shown most people, and to put it politely, she’s a lot,” Raven sighed contently at Anya’s touch.
“I know I’m not supposed to since she’s Lexa’s nemesis or whatever, but I always kinda liked Clarke,” Anya grinned at a few specific memories. “She seems like she’s out of her mind half the time, but she’s totally not. She’s slick and she’s wild and she’s not afraid of anything.”
“Pretty accurate,” Raven replied with a sleepy nod. “There’s a lot to her that’s much deeper than she’s allowed to let on. I can’t say it to her, but I’ve always really enjoyed Lexa’s company.”
“Do you remember why they hate each other?” Anya glanced away and sorted her memories.
“I don’t even think they know why they hate each other,” Raven chuckled.
“I’m glad they cut you into the limited list of people who know what’s going on,” Anya said frankly. “Because it’s so fucking bizarre to watch them do all of this and I can’t imagine not being able to talk to you about it.”
“Oh, big same,” Raven said with knowing, scrunched brows. “How’s Lexa holding up?”
“She keeps saying she’s fine, but I feel like she’s lying,” Anya shrugged.
“Clarke’s doing a lot of that, too,” Raven chuckled.
“Do you think they’re going to end up actually together?” Anya joked. “Can you imagine? All these years the fighting has just been pent up sexual tension because they’re secretly in love?”
“They do seem to be getting along in a particularly bizarre way,” Raven let the idea roll around in her head.
“I was joking,” Anya clarified.
“I know you were. But if you think about it,” Raven trailed off.
“I don’t think I want to,” Anya laughed.
***
Photos from The Grounder’s show and some from the studio circulated all weekend.
Clarke found herself looking at them less and less. The disconnect between what was really going on in the moment for her with how they were portrayed messed with her in a way she didn’t like. The label’s tricky editing mixed with her growing closeness with Lexa made it hard to remember what was real.
While she still found the whole thing bizarre and uncomfortable and all of it was confusing and terrible and stressful, she and Lexa had found their groove existing inside of it together. All of it was easier when they were together and the magic spell of their acting kept each other going.
They could get lost in it with each other. When she was alone, it was harder to keep up the act.
As she walked into Polis on Monday morning by herself, every head in the lobby swiveled to send a smirk her way. Ignoring them with her patented grouchy sighs that everyone around the label was used to, she got on the elevator. It was the first day of songwriting for the two of them, and she had plans to meet Lexa shortly and get started.
Clarke couldn’t figure out why she was nervous about it.
All of the other emotions she felt were easily understood, but the nagging feeling of being nervous about writing a song with Lexa just wouldn’t settle down.
Swelling classical piano filled the hallway when the elevator reached their floor.
The Grounders’ practice room door was propped open. Clarke stepped cautiously so her shoes wouldn’t give her away and listened intently. She stopped altogether just outside and leaned against the wall to let Lexa play on. After being so saturated in mediocre music for so long, listening to the rise and fall of the technically impressive runs sent Clarke somewhere else. She took a deep breath with closed eyes as the music climbed to its highest point before swinging back down to a final resting place.
“Still got it,” Clarke heard Lexa whisper to herself. An honest little smile of appreciation bloomed on Clarke’s face.
“Good morning,” Clarke announced herself as she knocked on the open door. “Do you always start your work week off with a little casual Vivaldi?”
“Ah, so you do know about real music,” Lexa replied with a cheeky grin and a dramatic glissando with a high note punctuation mark before spinning around on her piano bench to face Clarke.
“I do,” Clarke grinned back and set her bag on the floor as she eased onto The Grounder’s tattered couch.
“As far as classical piano goes, dude was a G,” Lexa softened. “Morning. How’re you doing?”
“I’m okay,” Clarke lied.
“Are you lying because of all of this?” Lexa gestured vaguely at herself and the label and the chaos of their fake love. “Or are you lying because of something else?”
“How can you tell I’m lying?” Clarke asked carefully with a skeptical side eye.
“Clarke, lying is our full time job now. I can tell when you’re doing it,” Lexa replied with a perceptive head tilt. Clarke stared back for a few beats and tried to decide if she should pull out the kneejerk sassy remarks she had at the ready or if she should tell Lexa the truth.
“My mom’s not doing so hot,” Clarke finally sighed. “One of her nurses called me this morning and gave me the latest update. It’s not great.”
“I’m really sorry to hear that,” Lexa said sincerely with sympathetic eyes. “That has to be so hard to get those updates all the time unprompted.”
“It is,” Clarke replied, surprised by how spot on Lexa’s observation was.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Lexa asked awkwardly. Clarke glanced up at her, startled and confused by Lexa’s honest kindness. “Cause we can if you want. We’re going to be spending all of our time together. If it’s going to affect you this much, maybe I should know more about it so I can be properly supportive. Or if distractions are preferred today, we can just get to work instead,” Lexa tried with a pursed lipped, uncomfortable smile as she pointed at the piano.
“I suppose this song isn’t going to write itself,” Clarke bit back the urge to pour her heart out.
“Awesome,” Lexa said with an encouraging nod. “What’s your process? Lyrics or music first?”
“It depends,” Clarke replied, all business. She pulled a notebook out of her bag and glanced at her phone for the particulars of the song’s assignment in her company files. “I’m thinking with this one and all of its requirements, maybe we start with some basic lyrics for concept, then find a sound we like, then fill in the rest in a way that matches up and feels right.”
“Works for me,” Lexa agreed.
“Do you have any initial thoughts?” Clarke raised a brow.
“I’ve gotta say no,” Lexa chuckled with stressed eyes and a playful wince. “I’m better with hooks. You’ve got great lyrics in your verses, so if you want to start with lyrics, I’m gonna defer to you.”
“Is this a set up? Are you about to make fun of my songs somehow?” Clarke eyed Lexa with thick suspicion.
“No, I mean it. You really are great with lyrics. You’re clever,” Lexa smiled earnestly. “It’s clear that they’ve made you write about dumb things, but you have a lot of interesting turns of phrase in your lyrics, and you’ve put together rhymes I never would’ve thought of.”
Clarke just stared back at her waiting for the insult.
“Clarke, this is work. I listened to all of your songs a few times because I need to write songs with you. I don’t like them, but they’re well done for what they are. I analyzed them because we have to create together, so I hoped to understand you and your songwriting before we jumped into this,” Lexa sighed.
Clarke held her skeptical look a few beats longer.
“I listened to all of your albums, too,” Clarke finally admitted. “You’re right. You really know how to nail a chorus that makes people want to get out of their seats. Even though your music is totally basic, which I understand is against your will after seeing you live, it’s technically very, very good basic music. Composing major, right?”
“Good memory,” Lexa clicked her tongue and pointed at Clarke with a pencil.
“It shows,” Clarke said with a sarcastically annoyed huff.
“So theoretically,” Lexa paused for encouraging, dramatic effect. “We should be pretty good at this.”
“Theoretically,” Clarke begrudgingly agreed. “Let’s talk concepts and ideas for lyrics.”
They spent the day proposing ideas and picking them apart.
By nine PM, the Grounders’ practice room was covered in torn pieces of paper, empty coffee cups from the lounge on their floor, two different kinds of half eaten take out because they worked through two meals, and a few tiny shreds of a new, sexy pop song.
They were so deep in the process that neither of them remembered they didn’t like each other.
“I think we should call it a night, Woods,” Clarke murmured. She was on her back on the floor beside Lexa’s piano with her hands over her face with little left in her.
“Yup,” Lexa agreed and dropped her pencil down against her notes. “I think we’re at capacity for bad ideas.”
“That’s the smartest, most eloquent thing you’ve said all day,” Clarke chuckled. “Write it down.”
“Come on,” Lexa held a hand out to help Clarke up from the floor, who accepted. Clarke sat beside Lexa on the bench and didn’t let go of her hand. The familiar sensation of being close to one another felt right after all of their training to never be apart.
“Anya’s tracking drums on something for Raven upstairs,” Lexa said after reading a text. “I’m gonna go meet her for a drink.”
“I’ll walk up with you. I’ve gotta catch up with Raven,” Clarke nodded towards the door as she got up to get her things together.
They both glanced down at their joined hands, then quickly let go.
“Sorry,” Clarke winced. “New habits.”
“I get it,” Lexa brushed it off and collected her jacket and bag and shoved a bunch of the notes from their day into it. “I feel a bizarre need to constantly be holding you. The conditioning Ali put us through is military grade hypnotism.”
Clarke broke into a genuine laugh.
“You’ve got a great laugh,” Lexa said absentmindedly.
“What?” Clarke shot her a look.
“Nothing,” Lexa shrugged as they walked down the hall together. “Your real laugh and your fake laugh are so different. Your real one is great. I’ve heard it a few times over the last few days. It sounds just so honest, you know? Like you couldn’t keep it in if you wanted to.”
“I guess I don’t know why I’d bother trying to keep it in,” Clarke shrugged back as she hit the button on the elevator to call it. “I don’t see the point.”
“It does prove that I was right about something, though,” Lexa tsked.
“What’s that?” Clarke asked dryly.
“I’m so funny,” Lexa replied with a raised brow and a playful smirk just as the doors slid open to reveal her least favorite intern with her arms crossed over a stack of folders and a sourpuss face.
“Ontari,” Lexa’s features dropped. “Nice to see you.”
“Lexa,” Ontari rolled her eyes. Lexa panicked and reached down for Clarke’s hand to observe their always touching in public rule, but Clarke already had her hand in Lexa’s back pocket.
“Going up?” Lexa asked politely.
“Unfortunately,” Ontari sneered. Lexa ignored the attitude. Clarke glanced between them, then snuggled herself into Lexa.
“Are you coming to my place after you catch up with Anya?” Clarke asked Lexa in a voice that sounded too natural and not quite like her overly rehearsed fake girlfriend voice.
“Uh,” Lexa shot confused eyes at Clarke who flicked hers to Ontari beside them, then back to Lexa’s with brows that begged Lexa to play along. “Definitely,” Lexa finished with new confidence.
“Perfect,” Clarke snuggled into Lexa’s neck and kissed her jawline.
“Get a room,” Ontari scoffed as the doors opened on the studio floor. She stalked out of the elevator and down the hall to one of the open studio doors.
“She hates me,” Lexa said lowly once Ontari was out of earshot.
“That’s obvious,” Clarke chuckled. “What’s her issue with you?”
“I don’t even know,” Lexa shook her head. “Anya thinks she wants to be me. One of those weird obsession situations that’s wildly misguided.”
“That’s what I thought,” Clarke muttered and knocked on Raven’s studio door. “Figured I’d get a little possessive and piss her off.”
“Are you being nice to me?” Lexa joked.
“Eh, technically I was being mean to her and you were there,” Clarke shrugged. “So I guess not.”
“Sup, ladies?” Anya grinned through smudged lipstick as she opened the door. Raven was behind Anya straightening her shirt out.
“Laying studio tracks, are we?” Lexa smirked.
“Laying something, alright,” Clarke piled on, still in Lexa’s embrace.
“Are you two sweet little lovebugs out here cuddling and making fun of me?” Anya cried, then reached out and pretended to flick Lexa’s nose. “Ready to get shitty, Woods?!”
“I’m ready to get buzzed at best. I have to work in the morning,” Lexa laughed.
“Boo! Fine, I’ll drink enough for both of us. Clarke, pleasure to see you, as always,” Anya nodded politely at Clarke, then turned towards Raven with a seductive smirk. “Pleasure doing business with you, Reyes.”
“Pleasure was all mine,” Raven sighed through a big, satisfied grin.
“Stop saying pleasure. It’s gross,” Clarke flinched away from them.
“I assure you, Clarke. It was beautiful,” Anya wagged her brows at Clarke. “C’mon, Lex!” Anya linked her arm into Lexa’s and dragged her towards the elevator.
“I’ll see you in the morning,” Lexa laughed and shot a friendly smile back at Clarke.
“Text me if you’re up later!” Anya shot a sultry look at Raven.
“Hold the door!” Ontari called as she hurried back through the hall.
“Oh, you little intern, you’re so lucky I need like, five more seconds of looking at that fine ass before I leave!” Anya put her foot in the door and shot Raven a cocky head nod that was equal parts totally sarcastic and completely serious.
Raven’s scowl was fake and her flushed cheeks were very real.
“Call me!” Anya called as the doors slid shut.
“You want to get a drink?” Clarke asked flatly after the chaos dissipated.
“Yup. Maybe two,” Raven nodded succinctly and grabbed her bag.
In the elevator, Anya stood between Ontari and Lexa to keep some space between them.
“So you’re fucking that folk diva now, huh?” Ontari asked bluntly to interrupt the award tension.
“Whoa!” Anya choked back a surprised laugh.
“Excuse me?” Lexa snapped her head around.
“I thought you hated her?” Ontari challenged with a brow cocked.
“We’ve been trying to keep our private life private,” Lexa rose to her full height.
“Is that right?” Ontari brought the other brow up to match.
“It was important to us that we got to have something that was just ours while we learned to understand it,” Lexa kept on in a firm and real tone that took Anya back a step. “Our passion for each other was so strong that in order not to give into it in public, we had to be mean to each other. That’s all been fake.”
“That all sounds fake to me,” Ontari sent Lexa’s words right back at her.
“You can’t wrap your head around how real it is,” Lexa spoke slowly and evenly and took an intimidating step towards Ontari.
“We know each other in a way you could only dream of. She’s special, and she’s different, and she’s smart, and she requires a blend of intelligence and empathy to understand and get close to that you’ll never know,” Lexa managed to seem even taller in the small space.
Ontari shrank away from Lexa’s growing presence.
“And this is the last time you’re gonna speak about her like that,” Lexa added on, hands planted firmly on her hips.
Ontari let out an audible gulp.
“Are we good?” Lexa asked Ontari through a tight, fake smile.
“We’re good,” Ontari nodded quickly.
“Damn, dude,” Anya whispered after an uncomfortable, tense silence.
The elevator chimed its soft double ding and Ontari exhaled a huge sigh of relief.
“Let’s go get those drinks,” Lexa patted Anya on the shoulder and headed out the door with a grin.
***
“So you two are like, very much sleeping together now, right?” Clarke asked a while later once she and Raven were posted up at a nearby bar.
They both lived busy, hectic, overscheduled lives and found that hanging out with each other required little explanation or backstory. They were less good friends and more people that got along and understood each other, and they found themselves getting a little too drunk and telling each other too many truths every few months.
“Very much so, yes,” Raven nodded through a wince as she anxiously thumbed the label on her beer.
“More than usual?” Clarke glanced away as she pounded her beer.
“Kind of?” Raven mirrored Clarke by looking into a non-existent horizon as she tried to sort her words. “Maybe different than usual.”
“How so?” Clarke leaned her elbows on the bar and turned to face Raven.
“I like it more lately? Maybe?” Raven sheepishly dipped her chin to hide her ever blushing cheeks. “I don’t know!”
“Super cute. Love that,” Clarke chuckled.
She’d had a front seat to Raven and Anya’s will-they-for-real-won’t-they-for-real over the last few years.
“So what’s the hang up?” Clarke asked frankly.
There was always some threadbare excuse not to commit for real, and Clarke couldn’t remember the current reason they weren’t diving in.
“What hang up?” Raven asked indignantly and subconsciously sat up a little straighter.
“Something’s different this time,” Clarke shook a finger at Raven. “I spend a lot of time with Anya and The Grounders now and you’re both being weird about it.”
Two blocks south on very similar bar stools at a very similar bar, Lexa and Anya were having the very same conversation.
“We’re not being weird about anything,” Anya tried unsuccessfully to nonchalantly shove Lexa’s observations under the rug. “Who said we’re being weird? I’m not weird.”
“You’re being weird right now,” Lexa rolled her eyes.
She’d been on the other end of Anya’s I-love-her-it’s-not-that-serious volleying match just about as long as Raven and Anya had been hooking up.
Lexa thought the whole thing was kind of cute.
“You’re different lately,” Lexa pointed a finger at Anya and shook her head. “Your music is different. Your playing is different. Your whole sound is different.”
“Is it bad?” Anya paled with a hand to her chest. “Because we both agreed that if this ever fucked with work, we’d drop it immediately.”
“No! It’s actually really fucking good, and I haven’t been able to figure it out,” Lexa grinned.
“What can I say?” Anya shrugged. “Good rock and roll comes from getting laid.”
“You’re not wrong there,” Lexa agreed with a quick and acknowledging pause. “But you’ve been getting laid pretty much daily since I met you. You’ve never had a hard time getting laid, you’ve never had a shortage of opportunities to get laid, I’ve never known you to turn down getting laid, and sometimes I’m actually lowkey concerned by how frequently you get laid. I don’t believe that simply getting laid right now is what’s making your music so good.”
“Well then, Maestro, what’s making my music so good?” Anya taunted before taking another shot.
“You’re not getting laid,” Lexa said smugly. “You’re fucking someone you luuuuv.”
Two blocks north, Raven pushed Clarke away with a scoff.
“We are absolutely not in love!” Raven gasped. “Or luuuv or lurve or anything else you’re gonna try on me!”
“Kick rocks, yes you are!” Clarke laughed.
“We are two people who enjoy each other’s company and enjoy having sex with each other,” Raven, who had switched to heavy pours of wine, tried to keep a straight face.
“Denial doesn’t really go with your whole cool music producer aesthetic,” Clarke jokingly pointed at Raven from the sunglasses on her head, to her purse, to her high end jeans, and to the toe of her designer shoes.
Raven pinched the bridge of her nose and spent a little too long in her own world. Clarke gave her the room to think about it.
“Is your beef with The Grounders over now that you’re Lexa’s woman or whatever?” Raven asked abruptly.
“Okay, one? I’m not Lexa’s woman. That’s strictly work and I’d appreciate it if you’d show me some understanding around that as one of the five people I’m allowed to talk to about it,” Clarke rattled off quickly and firmly. “And two! I don’t have ‘beef’ with The Grounders. Lexa’s just fucking annoying. Anya and Echo and Lincoln are fine.”
“Anya always liked you,” Raven muttered.
“Oh my god! I was fucking with you before, but damn! That’s pillow talk level honesty. You ARE in love!” Clarke gasped through a huge grin.
“I am not in love with her!” Raven shouted at the ceiling with her hands outstretched.
Two blocks south and two drinks later, Lexa and Anya were still at the bar.
“Dude, I’m so fucking in love with her,” Anya sighed blissfully.
“I’ll drink to that,” Lexa sighed with Anya through a proud smile. “How does she feel about it?”
“I don’t know,” Anya shrugged with a forlorn expression. “I don’t think I want her to know.”
“How do you know she doesn’t know already?” Lexa asked optimistically.
“No one in the kind of stupid love I’m in can think that logically,” Anya said sadly. “She’s always got her head on straight about me. About us,” Anya paused to put back another shot. “She can see too clearly, or something. Love makes you crazy and she’s acting too sane.”
“That’s actually very perceptive,” Lexa wrinkled her brow as she mulled it over. “And usually true. But Reyes has a pretty sharp mind. Maybe she’s your exception?”
“I don’t know, man. I’m trying not to think about it. I like everything the way it is,” Anya fidgeted with her empty shot glass and refused to look Lexa in the eye.
“No you don’t!” Lexa couldn’t hold back a laugh. “Anya, you wear your heart on your sleeve louder than anyone I’ve ever known. I’m sure she knows how you feel.”
A few streets north, Raven was at the bottom of a few more glasses of wine.
“Okay, fine. I know she loves me,” Raven huffed.
“Which is great news, since you love her, too,” Clarke continued for her. A tiny wine-encouraged giggle snuck through.
“Damnit, Clarke!” Raven doubled over with laughter.
“So for real, come on,” Clarke’s laughter died down. “What is the issue?”
“Work!” Raven whined loudly.
“There’s no rules at work about dating your colleagues. Trust me. I’m professionally in love and I’ve read every line of my contract,” Clarke chuckled at the absurdity of it. “I’d go to HR about it to make sure, but then I’d breach my fraudulent monogamy contract because they don’t know it’s not real.”
“No, I mean between me and her,” Raven grumbled. “When we started hooking up years ago, it was so important to us both that we not mix our sex with work. It’s taken us both a lot of hard work to climb to the places we’re in. When I’m on a Grounders contract, we leave each other alone. It’s paramount to her that she focuses on work and keeps her gig with The Grounders as long as she can.”
“Yeah, I know. Lexa’s the only one that can afford to lose the band,” Clarke replied nonchalantly. “It’s a big part of why she’s my so-called girlfriend now.”
“We have a contract for your lover tracks coming up, so she and I need to cool down quick, but it feels fucking impossible with how hot everything between us has been lately,” Raven clenched her fists.
“These tracks are basically fake,” Clarke shrugged. “It sounds like the perfect time to try it out.”
Two blocks south, Anya whacked Lexa in the arm.
“See?! That’s exactly what I said!” Anya huffed, then dropped her forehead onto the bar. “If ever there was a time to see if our attraction can survive the workplace, it’s your fake sexy pop tracks!”
“I’m sorry pal,” Lexa patted Anya on the back.
“Hey wait,” Anya sat up quickly and straightened out her messy hair. “How did the song writing go?”
“It barely went,” Lexa scoffed and waved a dismissive hand.
“You and your boo can’t get along?” Anya winced.
“No, actually. My boo and I have been pretty much on the same page since we called that truce,” Lexa let her gaze fall to her soggy, fraying coaster. “I can’t believe I’m about to say this, but I like working with her. She’s actually very talented.”
“Say whaaat?” Anya perked right up. “No way.”
“I’m not sure how to explain it. She’s smart. I think she’s really smart, but I’m not sure why yet,” Lexa said with a shy little smile.
“You did always dig smart chicks,” Anya nodded as she accepted another drink from the bartender.
“Anya, I don’t dig her. She’s not my real girlfriend,” Lexa reminded her openly.
“Dude, I honestly kind of forgot,” Anya chuckled. “You two are like an old married couple half the time. She was fucking great on stage with us. Did you two plan that?”
“No, I surprised her with that. I thought she was going to murder me,” Lexa laughed. “I think she had so much fun doing it that she forgave me.”
“The way you jumped down Ontari’s throat sure sounded real,” Anya raised her brows at Lexa.
“Because Ontari needs to think I feel that way. Everyone needs to think my love for Clarke is real and Ontari is part of everyone,” Lexa said flatly.
“If you say so,” Anya tossed her drink back. “Seems like you two are getting on awfully nicely.”
A few streets up, Clarke accepted another beer from the bartender.
“We figured out how to get along because we have no choice,” Clarke said too quickly with a whiff of defense in her tone. “It didn’t make sense to keep being assholes to each other. We both need this to work out, so we decided to work together for the common goal.”
“But the pictures-”
“The pictures are all fake, Raven,” Clarke reminded her.
“God damn, it’s crazy how they can manipulate all of that,” Raven exhaled with wide eyes. “Even I’m starting to fall for it.”
“Honestly? Sometimes it all confuses me, too. Lately I’m having a hard time figuring out if Lexa’s being nice to me for practice and for show or if she’s just nice.”
“She is nice,” Raven replied bluntly. “I’ve always told you that but you didn’t want to hear it.”
“I still don’t,” Clarke shrugged. “She’s fine. She’s a very good sport about everything and she’s been very respectful. No one has ever treated me the way she treats me. It’s weird. I’m not sure what to do with it.”
“You like her,” Raven smirked after a few moments of thought.
“She’s fine,” Clarke corrected her. “She’s very good at her job.”
“I wonder if that’s all she’s good at,” Raven said with a few tipsy, suggestive gestures.
“I guess we’ll never know,” Clarke let out a mock forlorn sigh.
***
Bits and pieces of the song started shaping up in writing sessions mixed between fake dates, appearances on podcasts and web shows, getting their photos taken at the right places with the right people, and an absolute craze of social media around the two of them over the next few days.
“Did you see Ali’s email about the preliminary song work?” Lexa asked without looking up from her phone. They were on a high profile afternoon date eating on the patio so they could be very visible and properly photographed at a popular new Italian spot currently getting hot press.
After spending so much specifically intimate time together, they found some strange ease in one another’s company. They knew how to sit quietly together without it being awkward. They started picking up on one another’s real body language inside of the fake body language, and neither could quite find the words to describe the comfort they found in someone they didn’t like.
“I did,” Clarke grumbled. She scrolled through her work emails with her feet snuggled between Lexa’s legs under the table. It was a perfect, sunny New York afternoon and her heels had been kicked off. Her bare feet fit tightly between Lexa’s black denim calves.
They sat quietly and worked through lunch and enjoyed the sunshine and the weird, new peace that came with not having to say much to one another. The honesty and understanding that came with sharing the lie was heavier than they both anticipated.
“She thinks it’s kinda stale,” Lexa wrinkled her nose. “I can’t say I disagree with her, but I’m not really sure what we should do about it,” she added before putting a big bite of salad into her mouth.
“I think we need to consider having sex with each other,” Clarke replied frankly as she set her phone down and stretched her neck and shoulders way too casually.
Lexa dropped her phone with a clatter on the table that rattled her silverware and drink glasses. She choked loudly on her food. Clarke snapped to attention, alarmed at Lexa’s outburst.
“You do?” Lexa asked cautiously after swallowing dramatically and clearing her throat. She was stock stiff with wide eyes waiting for clarification.
“Absolutely,” Clarke said before picking her fork up and returning to her own salad. “Don’t you?”
Lexa couldn’t find any words or actions. She opened her mouth to speak a few times, but nothing came. She sat up straight in her chair and looked right through Clarke like she was a ghost.
“Are you alright?” Clarke asked in a lowered, concerned voice.
“Are you?!” Lexa spat out frantically.
“Yes?” Clarke replied as confusion settled on her face.
“Are you out of your fucking mind?” Lexa stammered.
“Excuse me?” Clarke quirked a brow at her.
“Are you seriously going to just sit there and eat your salad after casually suggesting that we should fuck?” Lexa almost choked again as she forced the words out.
“What?!” Clarke gasped. “Lexa! I don’t think we should ACTUALLY have sex with each other!” Clarke began loudly then dropped her voice down to a grumble through gritted teeth. “Jesus Christ! Are YOU out of your fucking mind?”
“But you just said-”
“I meant hypothetically! I meant we need to discuss what our fake sex life is like so we can act accordingly and make this stale song hotter, as requested! Holy shit, did you think I was propositioning you?” Clarke struggled to keep her voice down.
“I don’t know!” Lexa spat back. “What the hell was I supposed to think?”
“That we should consider what our fake selves are like during sex! What kind of sex life we have, and how that’s going to be portrayed and analyzed! You said they make you out to be this smooth daddy character and I’m a prude, so how are we going to portray all of that and then write a sexy song about it!? That we need to understand every nuance of this bullshit and we’ve been avoiding kind of a big one!” Clarke hissed and tried not to flail her hands in aggravation as she pointed between the two of them.
“My feet hurt,” Lexa held her hands up and abruptly pulled her legs back under the table. Everything between them automatically stopped and reset.
“I’m sorry,” Clarke immediately dropped her tone to something sincere. “That’s not what I meant at all and I can’t believe your mind went there.”
“I’ll be right back,” Lexa eased out of her chair and exhaled a big, deep, calming breath as she headed for the restroom.
She didn’t know why her mind went there either, but it went there FAST.
Clarke’s laugh and careless t shirts with jeans and bright pumps and the new lipstick she was wearing this week were all things Lexa had been noticing against her will.
She was at capacity for bad ideas.
Lexa stood in front of the bathroom mirror and stared at her reflection for a while. Maybe too long. She ran her gaze over the eye liner and big brown waves that stared back at her that she dreaded sitting in a chair for. She could see her contact lenses and suddenly they were too itchy. Bracelets she hated rattled as she ran cool water over her hands and patted it against her sweaty forehead, careful not to smudge her makeup.
Her mask. Her fake armor.
The door to the restroom opened and she jumped, half expecting it to be Clarke.
“I’m sorry, but are you Lexa Woods?” It was an excited young woman in her early twenties with the telltale grin of a huge fan that had just recognized her.
“Yeah,” Lexa sighed and plastered her fake smile back on. “I am.”
“I’m such a big fan!” She squealed. “I love The Grounders so much! I’ve been listening to you since I was young. Your show was the first concert I ever saw!”
“Wow,” Lexa’s smile softened to something more affectionate and honest. “That’s so wonderful. Thank you so much.”
“My best friends and I have been obsessed forever! We just saw your show last week! It was incredible!” The fan kept on with clenched fists as she tried to stay calm.
“Thank you,” Lexa repeated awkwardly. Her head swelled with new emotion that always came with running into a true fan. “Listen, I don’t have a pen on me or anything.”
“That’s okay! I just saw you in front of me and just wanted to tell you how much I appreciate everything you do. Your music has helped me through some really rough times, so thank you so much. You and the band have been such huge influences for me. You’ve helped me feel like I could come out. I’m living my best life! It’s been such a huge deal to see how happy you and Clarke are together lately, too. Everyone’s talking about it!” The fan gushed with excited, overwhelmed tears in her eyes.
Lexa braced herself so the wide eyed young woman in front of her wouldn’t see the crashing feelings of deception crumbling inside of her.
“Yeah, thanks. We’re both really happy to finally be public about it,” Lexa tried so hard to find some optimistic gusto. “She’s actually sitting outside on the patio waiting for me right now. My bag is out there. Come find me before you leave and I’ll have a little something for you.”
“Really?!”
“Totally. Just give me a few minutes,” Lexa replied with a more sincere smile before pulling the door open and marching with confidence back to the table.
“Lexa, I-”
“We play to the trope that you’re a secret freak the way some good girls are,” Lexa said, quickly and diplomatically cutting Clarke off. She had a renewed sense of business and confidence and a need to keep things moving despite her earlier blunder.
“I’m a total freak. That checks out,” Clarke nodded.
“I’m a gentlewoman in the streets and a daddy in the sheets and the reason this works is that you can keep up with me, and in some cases, can outlast and impress me,” Lexa kept on.
“Is that true?” Clarke asked with a conspiratorial grin that teetered into confusing flirty territory.
“It doesn’t matter if it’s true. We’re not talking about what’s true right now,” Lexa kept her firm, focused tone.
“You’re right. What else?” Clarke matched her and motioned for her to continue.
“You’re down for whatever, and that has pleasantly surprised me from the jump. I make you feel safe and happy enough to let that side of yourself out. You make me laugh and smile and have revived my sweet side after years of mindless, sex-filled flings with no substance,” Lexa continued.
“Love it,” Clarke nodded again.
“If we lean into your prude side, this is not believable. We need to play this like we simply cannot get enough of each other. I think we have sex in public places, and we should keep that facade up. They portray me as very sexually active, so it wouldn’t make sense that I would have a partner who is not similar. This whole thing becomes more interesting if we lean into the fact that we’re so madly in love that we’ve become sex monsters who are banging all the time around the clock, but we love each other and we have lots of fun together, too. We have to go hard with you being a closet freak and I’m a secret softie and we bring it out of each other.”
“I agree,” Clarke replied in the same diplomatic fashion. “I think we need to act that way and lift that up, and the song we’re creating needs to be about fucking, not about being in love.”
“I think it can be both, and about how much better fucking is when you’re in love with each other,” Lexa raised a brow.
It was the second time in days that the notion came up.
She hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it since she said it to Anya.
“Go on,” Clarke raised one back in approval.
“Anyone in love can make love, but it’s when people who are in love still fuck that the real magic happens,” Lexa explained. “Or that’s at least where the hottest songs come from.”
“You sound like you’re speaking from experience,” Clarke smirked.
“I am,” Lexa sent a cocky smirk back. “Is it a sensation you’re familiar with?”
“I have to say no,” Clarke answered after a moment of thought.
“You’ve never fucked nasty with anyone you were in love with?” Lexa sat back, surprised.
“I’ve fucked nasty plenty, but I’ve never been in love,” Clarke said without missing a beat.
“Really?” Lexa broke the quick business banter between them to share a stunned gaping grin.
“I don’t know why I am either,” Lexa shrugged and let the thoughts roll around. “I guess I just figured someone as passionate and crazy and talented and wild as you are would’ve fallen in love plenty of times.”
“Plenty of people have fallen in love with me,” Clarke sarcastically rolled her eyes and flipped her golden curls over her shoulder. “But I’ve never had that feeling for anyone else.”
“Why not?” Lexa sat forward, intrigued.
“Falling in love for real requires a certain trust,” Clarke shrugged one shoulder and picked up her drink. “I’ve never trusted anyone enough to truly love them.”
“I feel like that’s kinda sad,” Lexa’s brows knit together as she processed the weight of Clarke’s statement.
“So much about my life is sad,” Clarke said quickly and truthfully. Lexa rested her hand over her mouth and studied Clarke closely for a few beats. “What?” Clarke asked and bit the straw in her drink shyly.
“It’s a fucking shame they make you write that boring music,” Lexa finally spoke up. Her tone was thoughtful and observant and totally stripped of their regular teasing. “I bet you’re just full of big, exciting songs you should’ve written.”
“That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me,” Clarke replied evenly, and almost uncomfortably.
“It’s true,” Lexa finally went back to eating her food now that she was confident she wouldn’t choke on it. “Your lyrics are smart. I bet they’d be so powerful if you were writing about something you really felt.”
“I’ve got books full of songs they don’t let me produce,” Clarke shrugged. “I’m sure you do, too.”
“Boxes of sheet music, sure. But none of them have any lyrics,” Lexa replied coyly.
Clarke slowly set her drink down and leaned forward with a scrutinous eye.
“Alexandria,” Clarke taunted slowly. “What exactly are you trying to say?”
“That you and I are opposites, which we’ve been properly branded as for sure, but maybe we’ve been opposite sides of the same coin this whole time,” Lexa replied smugly.
“It has been nice to find out we have more in common than how much we can’t stand each other,” Clarke chuckled.
“About that? Get ready to get lovey, by the way. I met a fan in the bathroom and told her to stop by the table and I’d have something for her,” Lexa said lowly as she saw the fan approaching.
“Lexa!” Clarke hissed. “What the hell? Why didn’t you lead with that?”
“I thought we had some more pressing matters to clear up between us,” Lexa hissed back. “Hey! There you are!” she brightened into a stage grin.
“I’m sorry to interrupt, really,” the excited girl from the bathroom bounced nervously from foot to foot beside their table.
“Not a problem at all,” Clarke caught Lexa’s energy and sat up taller.
“So you said you and your best friends are fans, right?” Lexa pulled her bag onto her lap and dug through it. “How many of you are there in your crew?”
“Five!” She squealed with delight.
“Shit,” Lexa muttered as she opened a fistful of her signature guitar picks. They were black with her name on them in silver and the band’s logo on the other side. “I only have four.”
“Oh, hang on,” Clarke perked up and fished into the pocket of her jeans and pulled out another fistful of picks. She shuffled them around and pulled out one of Lexa’s. “I have one, Babe.”
“Where’d you get that?” Lexa shot her a flirty smirk. “I tell you, she steals my clothes, she steals my picks, and she stole my heart,” Lexa blew a goofy kiss across the table and Clarke played along. The fan was in danger of turning into a puddle.
“I borrow your clothes, I took this pick from you on stage by accident last week, and I didn’t steal your heart, you gave it to me,” Clarke sassed back as she handed the pick to the fan who was beside herself listening to the two musicians goofing on each other. “This one is from the show the other night. Were you and your friends there?”
“We were!” The fan gushed on. “You were so good! We went home and listened to all of your stuff! We’re total converts!”
“Thank you very much,” Clarke grinned back at her. “Well? Sign something for her, Lex!” Clarke encouraged and took a sharpie out of her bag for Lexa.
“I don’t know what I have,” Lexa muttered and looked through her bag again.
“You really don’t have to,” the fan pleaded. “This is more than enough!”
“Nonsense!” Clarke pulled her VIP pass with her name on it from the show out of the bottom of her bag. “I have this?”
“YOUR pass from the show?!” she squealed. Clarke handed it across the table and Lexa scribbled her signature on it.
“Do you want her autograph on there, too?” Lexa nodded at Clarke.
“REALLY?!” The fan brought her closed fist full of picks to her mouth and bit it nervously.
“Of course,” Clarke’s grin faded from fake to truthful as she added her signature next to Lexa’s.
“Are your friends here?” Lexa asked the fan with a knowing look.
“Yes!” she blurted out.
“C’mon, Love. Put your shoes on. Let’s get a picture,” Lexa gestured with familiarity at Clarke’s bare feet under the table. Clarke paused and tripped on reality before getting back into character.
They found the table full of fans in the restaurant and posed for photos and signed a few more things before heading back to their table to finish their meal.
“What was that?” Lexa asked calmly once they were alone again.
“What was what?” Clarke replied with raised brows.
“You stumbled for a second. You looked a little lost,” Lexa said evenly as she dug into her entree.
“Oh, nothing,” Clarke shrugged. “No one has ever called me ‘Love’ like that before. It tripped me up.”
“I can stop,” Lexa shrugged back.
“No, it’s fine. It’s sweet and very convincing. You just said it so smoothly,” Clarke waved a blase hand. “Even though I know it’s fake, it feels weird that you’re so nice to me. No one’s ever been this kind of nice to me.”
“Damn, your life really is sad, huh?” Lexa grimaced.
“Not to get all weepy on main, but yeah. It is,” Clarke replied, a heavy sadness sneaking into her voice. “I don’t usually have to think too much about it.”
“Well? Hopefully after you dump me, things will get a little brighter and you won’t have to,” Lexa chuckled.
Clarke chuckled with her, but didn’t like how it felt.
They were required to attend a party that weekend for a clothing line release from one of the artists on the label.
Saturday night found them at a party in SoHo surrounded by other musicians and movie stars and cocktails and bubbles and glamor. Press and paparazzi were in full force out front as everyone entered the show.
“Do you deal with a lot of paparazzi?” Clarke asked Lexa in the back seat of their town car as they waited for their turn to leave their vehicle in full view of the cameras.
“Sometimes. They’ve been all over me since we started dating,” Lexa rolled her eyes. It fell out of her mouth so naturally that it gave her pause. “Or, y’know. Whatever you want to call it. Before that, not really. Every once in a while. Which is fine with me. I hate them.”
“I hadn’t even thought of that, but I’m sure you’re right,” Lexa mirrored Clarke’s tone. “Is that what they sent you to wear tonight or are you off script?” Lexa nodded at Clarke’s long sleeved, very short, very tight black dress and thigh high boots.
“This is what they sent,” Clarke held her hands up. “I have an outfit just like it, so maybe she has my closet bugged, too. Why do you ask?”
“No real reason,” Lexa looked out the window at the rows and rows of photographers and journalists waiting outside. “They just don’t usually dress you like that.”
“Is it a problem?” Clarke sat up in her seat and adjusted her hair.
“Not at all,” Lexa shrugged and gave her a once over again.
“Then why are you bringing it up?” Clarke stiffened.
“Cause you look kinda hot,” Lexa let an awkward smile out that she couldn’t stop. “It caught me off guard.”
“Are you fucking with me?” Clarke eyed her curiously. “Cause I also thought I looked kinda hot, but now I’m not so sure.”
“I’m not fucking with you!” Lexa laughed. “You look hot. It’s about time they dressed you right. We’re next. Are you ready?” Lexa rested her hand on the door as they pulled up to the entryway.
“I like your hair like that,” Clarke muttered. “They should do it for you more often. You can only pull it off with bone structure like yours.”
“I know, right?” Lexa joked with a cocky and confident grin. Her curls were half pulled back with a high bouffant on top and her hallmark heavy eye make up. She was all in black with her usual dark denim, but her overall style was crisper and blacker and less distressed and more formal tonight.
“You’re such an ass,” Clarke shook her head and held back a routine laugh.
“You love it,” Lexa got into character as she opened the door and stepped out. She turned around and held a hand out to help Clarke to her feet.
“Clarke! Lexa! Over here!”
“Lexa! Is it true you chased Clarke for months from Europe?”
“Clarke! Who are you wearing tonight?”
“Clarke! Lexa! Over here!”
“Shit, I haven’t done one of these in a while,” Clarke let a shaky breath out through a fake smile.
“Just remember none of it is real,” Lexa said through her own photogenic grin. Her hand found its way to its natural home at Clarke’s lower back as they made their way slowly toward the venue.
“Us or them?” Clarke leaned closer.
“I guess I meant them,” Lexa paused and turned towards Clarke to share a grin together and let the photographers on her side of the aisle get her good side. “Even I’m starting to forget we’re fake.”
“Clarke, is it true that your parents are both in the hospital with terminal illnesses?” A reporter shoved a mic in Clarke’s face.
“What?!” Clarke stopped in her tracks and spun towards them.
“A source tracked down your parents in Connecticut. You’re out here doing press while they’re dying?” the journalist pressed.
Clarke froze.
In all of her training, she could never keep up a facade when they came for her family.
All of the journalists and photographers around them zeroed in on the new juicy story unfolding.
“They’re not,” Clarke tried. She couldn’t find any words. Her tongue was suddenly too big for her mouth and her throat dried out. Panic set in quickly and shut her systems down.
“Clarke! What hospital are they in?”
“Clarke, what are they dying from?”
“How long do they have to live?”
“Hey!” Lexa barked and startled all of them. She pulled Clarke in closer with her most genuine protective stance yet and flashbulbs went off all around. “Don’t talk to her like that!”
“Lexa,” Clarke tried again. Before she knew it, Clarke’s arms were around Lexa’s waist both searching for comfort and to hold her back.
“Her parents are resting comfortably at home, fuckwad!” Lexa pointed fiercely at the journalist who started it. The crowd of them all backed off in unison as Lexa pushed further. “Her dress is Dior, her boots are Jimmy Choo, we’re madly in love with each other, she’s not on tour right now, she’s working in New York, and she starts recording her new album in the fall. Anything else you want to ask her, you sick pieces of shit?!” Lexa cried with a set jaw and eyes on fire.
Clarke pinched her eyes shut and waited for the backlash and barrage of questions and accusations.
They never came.
“Nope,” one journalist finally spoke up.
“That’s what I thought,” Lexa said firmly and pointed hard at all of them. “Don’t do that shit again or our people will be all over you. You all know who’s at the top of Polis Records. She’ll eat you alive if I don’t get there first.”
“Lexa! Clarke! Over here!” another group shouted at them.
“C’mon, Love,” Lexa nodded her head and guided Clarke away.
They didn’t say anything else as they walked the rest of the gauntlet of paparazzi. Clarke stayed glued to Lexa’s side and Lexa kept her protective role up. Lexa’s hard face faltered when she felt Clarke desperately grip the back of her shirt when she accidentally stepped away slightly.
“While I appreciate the back up, you don’t need to be in hyper vigilant mode all night,” Clarke said quietly as they moved into the venue to find their seats. She didn’t mean it, but felt like she had to say it.
Lexa’s hyper vigilant mode beside her was one of the most relieving sensations Clarke had ever felt in her life.
“None of that was fake. None of that was for this,” Lexa grumbled and gestured between them. “I hate that shit. It’s none of their business, and it’s not cool to do that to you in front of everyone. It’s so wrong.”
“Thank you,” Clarke paused their walk with a gentle hand at Lexa’s shoulder so she could look Lexa in the eye. “Really.”
“It’s not even a thing,” Lexa brushed it off with a sincere smile. “You’re not my real lover, but I think you’re my friend? Or something? Whatever you are, you’re mine somehow now, and I’m not letting anybody fuck with you.”
They held their eye contact a little too long. Clarke’s witty comebacks all fought to get to the forefront but none of them made it.
“Unless it’s me,” Lexa broke into a cheeky smile that carried a weight only they could understand. “I’m still gonna fuck with you. But it’s different when I do it.”
“It is different when you do it,” Clarke matched Lexa’s smile with a soft one of her own. “But thank you. Seriously.”
“I got you,” Lexa replied earnestly and couldn’t stop herself from planting a habitual kiss on Clarke’s temple. They both stiffened up by how much they liked it and how natural it felt. “Sorry,” Lexa fumbled. “Habits.”
“Probably should play up some sweetness after that display. Have you checked your phone?” Clarke winced.
“Ulgh,” Lexa sighed and pulled it out. “Do you think I’m in trouble?”
‘We love a protective Lexa. Shake it off and turn this night around into something sexy ASAP tho.’
“Well?” Clarke shrugged optimistically. “She’s been pleased with our natural instincts, I guess?”
“I’m just glad I’m not fired,” Lexa let out a big breath out with wide eyes. “Let’s sit down.”
Once the fashion show was over, everyone mingled and chatted and posed in the right photos with the right people. After a few drinks and a few quiet moments alone in the bathroom with her vape and her actual personality to collect herself, Clarke officially shook off the reporters’ prying questions and was able to be her fun, fake self.
There were so many questions about her and Lexa, but they were mostly rooted in genuine congratulations because of how happy together they appeared to be.
“Alright, my feet are getting a little sore now,” Clarke said discretely to Lexa two hours later.
“Yup,” Lexa nodded gently. “Mine are a little achy, too. Everyone is being almost too nice and too excited about us getting together.”
“Fashion and art party. A lot of Molly and shrooms and good vibes in here tonight,” Clarke rolled her eyes. “I can get us out of here in about five minutes if you follow my lead this time,” Clarke raised a prospective brow and pulled out her phone.
“Oh yeah? Are you gonna call in a bomb threat?” Lexa chuckled.
“Not quite. You in?” Clarke asked as she sent a message to Ali to bring their car around and started a casual walk towards the exit.
“What are you doing?” Lexa asked lowly through a fake smile as someone looked their way.
“Remember that whole thing about us being sex monsters now?” Clarke smirked as she guided Lexa closer to the area to wait for their car.
“Yes,” Lexa swallowed hard with grave suspicion of where this plan was headed.
“We’re gonna make out right now, and it’s gonna be aggressive,” Clarke warned calmly. Lexa’s eyes flew open, but she listened intently to the rest of the plan. “I’d appreciate it if you’d play along. Now, my dress is very short, and I feel like the last thing this evening needs is a shot of my ass all over the internet, so be careful, alright?”
“That’s your plan? An aggressive make out?” Lexa hissed.
“I know what I’m doing,” Clarke gave her a stern look. “Do you trust my plotting skills or not?”
“I trust you,” Lexa said quicker and with more fervor than either of them were prepared for. It made Clarke pause and linger on Lexa's light eyes before shaking it off and jumping back in.
“You’ve gotten really good at kissing me sweetly, but now I need you to kiss me like we fuck nasty,” Clarke called back to their awkward conversation about their fictional sex life. “We need all these fashion clowns to think that you’re about to take me home and do weird stuff to me.”
“What kind of weird stuff?” Lexa wrinkled her nose.
“Lex, we’re on a fucking ticking clock here,” Clarke took a steadying breath so she wouldn’t raise her voice or break character. “Whatever kind of weird stuff you want.”
“I’d just appreciate a little context so I can-”
“Do you want to stay here all night and do this into the after party? Or do you want to give the illusion for the next three minutes that you’re about to turn me upside down and make me forget my own name because all I can scream is yours? You'll be at home in your pajamas by midnight!” Clarke snapped.
“Definitely that” Lexa agreed quickly.
“Then get it the fuck together and kiss me like you want to rip my clothes off and split me in half,” Clarke demanded in a hushed, fierce voice as she grabbed Lexa by the front pockets of her jeans and pushed her into the wall behind her and kissed her with force and convincing faux passion.
“We’re really doing this?” Lexa asked quickly between kisses she tried to keep up with.
“We really are,” Clarke whispered quickly before wrapping a leg around Lexa. Lexa followed her instructions and kept a hand on Clarke’s ass to convince the audience she enjoyed regular handfuls of it, and to keep Clarke’s dress in place.
“Then buckle up, Babe,” Lexa smirked before grabbing a handful of Clarke’s hair and bringing her in for a wildly public, over the top make out that caught attention.
“Woods! Griffin! Your car’s here!” Security attempted to politely break them up. Clarke stayed all over Lexa as they made their way to the car laughing and kissing with their hands all over each other. Clarke dropped into the back seat and pulled Lexa down on top of her, kissing her the whole time.
The security guard closed the door behind them, and Lexa was still in character. She put her hand behind Clarke’s head to keep it from banging on the opposite door and leaned in with drive and courage and hefty emotion with kisses that were far too good.
“Alright! Alright! You can stop! We have tinted windows!” Clarke held her hands out palms up and her whole body went rigid.
“Right,” Lexa heaved a breath and pushed herself up off of Clarke slowly and carefully. “Sorry. This is a lot. It’s hard to start and stop and keep it looking real.”
“I know. It’s okay,” Clarke exhaled and backed up into her seat. “Nice job,” she nodded awkwardly at Lexa.
Their heavy breathing was interrupted by a slow clap from the driver’s seat.
Ali spun around from behind the wheel with a devious smirk.
“Clarke Griffin, you vixen,” Ali winked, chucked low in her throat and then let out a big sigh. “I had an exit strategy prepared for you, but that one was way better!” Ali shook her head as she pulled into traffic.
“Can I have a raise?” Clarke joked.
“Definitely,” Ali scoffed.
“Nice!” Clarke nodded in approval.
“And you’ve proved that you’re both ready for the next phase!” Ali cried out.
“I fucking hate this so much,” Lexa sighed and watched New York go by out the window.
Silently, Clarke reached across the back seat to hold Lexa’s hand. Unable to process any more emotions for the night, Lexa pinched her eyes shut and didn’t move a muscle.
“Me too,” Clarke sighed and gave Lexa’s hand an affectionate squeeze.
***
“So you’re gonna make me haul my ass from Hell’s Kitchen to friggin’ Bushwick at nine AM just so we can take a bunch of photos that look like we’re having a morning together in Lexa’s apartment?” Clarke asked flatly in their Monday morning meeting with Ali that week.
After the fashion show and vigorous public make out and confusing moments of actual closeness and friendship and trust woven throughout, Clarke and Lexa both spent their Sundays alone at home with their phones turned off.
Processing.
And actively very much not processing.
“I live in Williamsburg!” Lexa gasped.
“The fuck you do! This is Bushwick!” Clarke pointed at the address on the documents in front of them.
“It’s on the cusp!” Lexa snapped.
“Ladies, please!” Ali held her hands up to stop their bickering. “You’ve proven reasonable aptitude to get us the content we need on your own, so I’m trusting you hugely. Clarke? Get your ass to Lexa’s place by nine am tomorrow and follow the list of required content and submit it all back to me by 1pm, or we’ll all come out there and do it together until you get it right all week long.”
“Or?” Clarke asked in a ballsy lapse in judgment. Lexa braced for the inevitable retort.
“Or you're both fucking fired!” Ali grinned at them.
“Right,” Clarke sighed.
“Now get out of my office and get back downstairs to work on that sad little track you two need to sex up severely by next month,” Ali brushed them off with an insulting hand wave and spun her chair around.
“Hey!” Lexa snapped once they were alone in the lobby waiting for the elevator. “What the fuck?”
“What the fuck, what?” Clarke snapped back.
“What the fuck is your problem? What the fuck is up with talking to me like this? What the fuck is up your ass? What the fuck did I do? You want a bucket to carry all of these?” Lexa ticked off on her fingers and gave Clarke a look of genuine hurt.
Clarke dropped her face into her hands and gave a big, shaky sigh as she begged the flood of tears behind her eyes to stay dammed.
“I’m sorry,” Clarke collected herself and looked up at Lexa. The sadness in her eyes was overwhelming and pressed up against Lexa’s frustration. “I’m just not really feeling it today.”
“I haven’t exactly been feeling it every moment of this either, but I’ve still treated you right,” Lexa said solemnly with a hand to her chest. “I thought things between us had changed.”
“They have. You’re right. I’m sorry,” Clarke said quickly.
“Do not treat me like this,” Lexa pleaded.
“My mother’s really bad,” Clarke’s voice caught on the lump in her throat and caused a few of the tears she held back to come loose. “They called me this morning. I can’t get that reporter’s words out of my head that I’m not there. I feel like shit and I’m losing it, and I’m taking it out on you and that’s not cool.”
“It’s not cool at all,” Lexa agreed and worked to keep her tone even and less hostile and it showed in her stiff posture. “I’m really sorry to hear that, but I’ve been clear that I’m here for you in that arena if you want. I’m not going to be your punching bag, though.”
“I don’t have any friends,” Clarke blurted out.
“What?” Lexa squinted at her. “What about Raven?”
“We keep things superficial. I don’t have any real friends,” Clarke swallowed hard and stuttered as she spit the truth out.
“So?” Lexa shrugged, confusion present on her brow.
“So I don’t know how to be one,” Clarke flicked sheepish eyes up to Lexa. “I don’t recognize friend behavior. I don’t have any references, but I think you’re being a really good friend to me.”
“I’m sure as shit trying, but you’re not making it easy!” Lexa laughed to break the tension.
Clarke laughed too. Her real laugh. The one Lexa liked the most.
“I told you I’m really sweet,” Lexa tacked on with a confident smile.
“I told you I’m absolutely fucking nuts,” Clarke reminded her. She matched the smile despite the tears in her eyes.
“And I still signed a contract to love you or whatever for three months, so stop fighting it,” Lexa joked.
“I’m sorry,” Clarke repeated more sincerely.
“Apology accepted, but knock it off,” Lexa warned playfully. Clarke almost laughed but couldn't get there. “We’ve been through some weirdly intimate stuff together. We’re sharing one another’s biggest, most important secret. You asked me if I trusted you and I said yes right away.”
“I know you did,” Clarke replied quickly.
“And I meant it,” Lexa asked earnestly. “Do you trust me?
“I,” Clarke started. Her eyes widened in fear.
Lexa let out a defeated sigh and pressed the button to call the elevator.
“Lexa,” Clarke tried again.
“It’s alright,” Lexa held a hand up to keep Clarke at arms length. “I don’t know what I was expecting.”
They rode the elevator in silence.
The dim lighting of the practice floor hallways made it feel easier to hide.
Lexa’s disappointed energy took up the space between them that was seldom there.
“Maybe we should call it a day,” Lexa spoke up as she rested her hand on her practice room’s door. “No good art comes from a place like this.”
“I don’t know how,” Clarke responded coldly.
“To make good art?” Lexa puzzled and left the obvious zinger dangling. She couldn’t bring herself to do it when Clarke looked so badly beaten up by her own despair.
“To trust anybody,” Clarke replied through a nervous waiver.
“Oh,” Lexa’s mouth stayed stuck in a startled O for too long.
“I never have. I’ve never had to. I’ve never even really,” Clarke trailed off looking for the words. Lexa gave her the space to find them with encouraging eyes. “Wanted to? Needed to? Had the actual chance to?”
Clarke held her hands up and let them fall in frustration against her thighs with a dull thud.
“This whole thing between us is getting complicated,” Clarke’s voice tightened to a whisper. “I know the romance and affection is fake, but the kindness you’re showing me feels real.”
“It is,” Lexa replied frankly.
“It’s very foreign to me,” Clarke spoke slowly and carefully to make sure she chose all of the correct words. “I can’t remember the last time someone showed me real kindness without expecting something from me in return.”
“All I expect from you is the same respect I show you,” Lexa shrugged shyly. “We’re in this thing together. I’m not going to trick you, I’m not going to betray you, and I’m not going to hurt you.”
“How do you know that?” Clarke’s eyes welled up again. “How do I know that?”
“I guess you’ll just have to trust me,” Lexa softened into a grin.
Clarke bit back new tears.
“Go home, Clarke. You look like you’ve been awake for days,” Lexa mumbled.
“I haven’t slept since I saw you,” Clarke admitted.
“I can tell. You look like hell. Call your folks. Get some sleep. I’ll work on the music and I’ll see you in the morning,” Lexa sighed and nodded at the elevator that was still open and waiting behind them. “And before you try to pull any stoic shit and act like you’re too big and bad to be sad and afraid, yes, I mean it. Get out of here.”
“You’re the only person who knows how sad and afraid I am,” Clarke choked out.
“Thank you for trusting me with that information,” Lexa’s comforting grin ticked up into a familiar cocky smirk as she learned in the open door frame.
“You’re so good at being such a shit sometimes,” Clarke laughed and cried at the same time.
“SO good at it,” Lexa chuckled. “Are you gonna get out of here, or do you want to get to work?”
“Since you’ve been pushing me to take a forceful look at my soul these days, I think maybe I can try to make some art,” Clarke took a deep, steadying breath.
“Oh, you have a soul?” Lexa kept her grin on and she committed back to their bit and banter where they felt safe. The edges around Clarke’s distress softened.
“Get behind the piano, you butthead,” Clarke muttered and wiped her eyes.
“Butthead?!” Lexa tried to keep the act up but she couldn’t stop laughing. “There’s my articulate lyricist! This is going to be a great session!”
“Thank you,” Clarke said solemnly as Lexa closed the door and took up her seat behind the piano.
“For what?” Lexa asked innocently.
“Your patience. Your kindness. Your understanding. Your compassion,” Clarke ticked off on her fingers. “You want a bucket for these?” She added with a sly smile.
“Nah, I love it. Let ‘em spill all over the floor. We'll clean up later," Lexa laughed. “Let’s get to work.”
Girlfriend training begins, Clarke and Lexa make a deal in order to successfully pull this thing off, the news breaks that they're together, and Lexa has a surprise for Clarke at The Grounders' show.
Catch up on Part One if you want.
11379 words:
“Thank you both for being prompt. We have a lot of work to do!” Ali announced the next morning.
Rather than a conference room, Clarke and Lexa were summoned to one of the label’s photography studios. The wide open room had an aggressively lit blank white backdrop in the middle with racks of wardrobe nearby. Multiple tables of paperwork and staff neither Clarke nor Lexa had met before were spread out all over. They were all Ali’s inner circle and were sworn to the same secrecy about what was really going on as Raven and the band.
Ali sat at a folding table with papers and files and electronics all around her in one of her high fashion dresses and dramatic pairs of heels.
“Before we delve into the specifics of the next three months and get you into training to get your stories straight about what’s been going on between you, we need to do some preliminary affection work,” Ali rattled off.
An assistant danced quickly by and dropped a cup of coffee into Ali’s open and waiting hand without pause.
“What the hell is preliminary affection work?” Clarke asked flatly.
Across from Ali, Clarke and Lexa sat beside each other in folding chairs with about a foot of space between them. They were both in casual leggings and t-shirts and messy buns knowing their looks would be out of their hands soon enough. Clarke slouched deep with her legs outstretched and her arms folded like a teenager hellbent on refusing to learn her lesson. Lexa sat up straight with her legs crossed tight with wide, alert eyes.
The agenda on the table before Ali was in a two inch binder and it was full.
“From this moment forward, anytime the two of you are in a room with anyone else, you must maintain some form of physical contact. Obvious exceptions for when you’re playing instruments, using a restroom, anything practical like that, but your new default is that you are touching in some way, or within touching distance at all times,” Ali spoke evenly, but with urgency. Another member of her staff silently set a bottled water on the table with a bendy straw in it directly facing her. Her hands were expecting it.
“That’s ridiculous!” Lexa straightened up in her chair.
“I know it is. We’re conditioning you to get comfortable with each other as quickly as possible. If people can see through this thing and can tell you’re faking, this all falls apart and you’re both fired. Not to mention the legal consequences. We need you to immediately appear like you’ve been fucking and liking it for months now, and it couldn’t be more palpable that you absolutely despise each other. So?” Ali gestured for them to close the space between their chairs.
Lexa’s mouth hung open, stunned. Clarke huffed and scooted her chair over without getting out of it. The loud scraping of the feet on the concrete floor made one of the photographers wince.
“Let me guess!” Clarke matched Ali’s stage voice. “If we just shut up and do what you say when you say it, this will be over sooner?”
“Brains and beauty,” Ali replied through a whiny fake pout.
Clarke held a hesitant open hand out to Lexa who didn’t reach for it right away.
“Don’t worry. I showered this morning. It’s clean,” Clarke joked. Lexa cracked her first half smile and took Clarke’s hand in hers.
Despite the years of arguing and fighting and ripping on one another, the enemies somehow felt like allies when completely surrounded by a new common adversary.
“There, see? We’ll have you all over each other by lunch,” Ali waved a dismissive hand and returned to her notes. “You’re both smart, talented, sexy, and fabulous. Maybe you’ll even like it a little.”
“Kinda doubt it,” Clarke let out under her breath.
“Let’s try something else. Both of you get up,” Ali encouraged them with raised arms. Cautiously, Clarke and Lexa got to their feet and stood side by side still awkwardly gripping the other’s hand.
Ali left the table and marched right over and ran a scrutinous eye over both of them.
Clarke’s posture was hunched and annoyed. Lexa was on high alert.
“Turn and face each other,” Ali demanded quickly. Clarke and Lexa begrudgingly obeyed and Ali circled around observing every square inch of them.
No strangers to being on stage and being in the spotlight, the two of them didn’t falter under her examination.
“Look her in the eyes,” Ali kept on with the same firm cadence.
Neither of them knew who she was talking to, so they both followed directions. Both of their chests rose and fell in unison with a deep, surprised breath when they raised their gazes to meet each other.
“There it is,” Ali grinned and bit the top of her pen in excitement. “That’s some intimate shit right there! Lexa! Did you know Clarke had such dreamy blue eyes?”
“No,” Lexa said through a nervous laugh. “I figured they were brown since she’s so full of shit.”
“Nice,” Clarke choked on a chuckle and dipped her head. “I hate that you’re funny. It’s annoying.”
“I’m so funny. You’re not ready for how funny I am,” Lexa said lowly.
“Keep up that eye contact!” Ali shouted. “Grab her other hand! Hold both!”
Clarke held her hand out first again and nodded down at it with a challenging brow raised. Lexa let a discouraged breath out slowly and rolled her jaw in frustration as she took up Clarke’s other hand.
It became increasingly clear increasingly quickly that the two enemies were going to need to figure out how to work together and both of them visibly hated it.
“So here’s what happened!” Ali thundered as she continued to circle around them. “Lexa! You were at the release party on the roof for Clarke’s album in November, remember?”
“One of the most boring nights of my life,” Lexa smirked at Clarke who wrinkled her nose and stuck out her tongue. “I almost forgot.”
“Wonderful. We studied the analytics and Lexa’s fanbase is larger, but Clarke’s is borderline uncomfortably loyal. There’s an alarming majority of single women. Lexa has a much wider demo,” Ali rattled off. Lexa wiggled her shoulders and shot Clarke a superior smile.
“Simplicity is more easily consumed by a broader audience,” Clarke said with a self-satisfied shrug.
“Very cute,” Ali huffed. “Although if you turn it about thirty degrees to the left and change your tone of voice, that’s great flirting,” Ali’s annoyed expression turned upwards into a thoughtful pause. “Lexa, pull Clarke beside you and put a protective hand at her lower back.”
“What?” Lexa squinted.
“Alexandria, we can be here all day, all week, all month, for the rest of your godforsaken life if you want! You are not leaving this room until I’m convinced you two can pretend you are in love, so PLEASE stop wasting time!” Ali cried through gritted teeth and charged at them shaking two clenched fists over her head.
Instinctively, Clarke turned into Lexa’s waiting protective embrace and the two of them winced away from the approaching threat together.
“Cute! Perfect! See? There it is!” Ali exclaimed triumphantly and pointed at them cowering together.
“She’s insane,” Lexa whispered to Clarke and shook her head gently. “She’s insane, and this is insane and it’s going to make me insane.”
“You’ve gotta admit, that was pretty slick, though,” Clarke whispered back. “I didn’t know you were such a natural protector. They better not make me a damsel in distress. If our plot is about you rescuing me, I’m quitting.”
“Your hair smells like cigarettes,” Lexa grumbled in return.
“I’ve been a little fucking stressed lately,” Clarke hissed back. “Are you gonna write a melancholy bridge this fall about how you hated it then but you’d give anything for it now?”
“She’s a freakin’ poet,” Lexa sighed through a lazy chuckle.
“Step apart and back together a few times until you both understand the movements and how your hands are going to fall and where your bodies should be with each other. D list pop journalists are gonna feast on this love story all summer, so get ready to have the same conversation about how you met with some giddy fake smiles twenty times a week. Lexa! Lower back protective and possessive stance! Now!” Ali barked.
“Why am I the protective possessive one?” Lexa huffed as she begrudgingly pulled Clarke closer to her. They both fidgeted and searched for comfort in the stance together and couldn’t find it.
“Selling Clarke to your fans is going to be easier than selling you to hers, so we need to sell them the strong, caring type that wants to treat Clarke like a total princess” Ali held a hand out as she spoke and her coffee from before found its way back by way of flourishing assistant.
“I don’t know if I like that,” Clarke said flatly.
“Your fans are gonna love it, so that doesn’t really matter. We’re going to paint the picture with Lexa that chivalry isn’t dead, it’s female,” Ali replied tightly through a thin lipped smile.
“I don’t totally hate that,” Lexa chewed her lip as she let it roll around in her head.
“Lexa, the story goes that you were so overcome by Clarke’s intimate acoustic performance on the roof that you showed up at her practice space the next day and asked her to have a drink with you.”
“Me and the band left for Europe two days later,” Lexa puzzled.
“So you only had one night to shoot your shot before you and the grounders went on your Euro tour, so you had to make it count!” Ali shouted dramatically.
“Oh, we’re doing all this shit?” Clarke sighed and stretched her neck and shoulders trying to get comfortable next to a stiff Lexa. “Silly details and all that?”
“Carke, did you think for one measly millisecond that we weren’t doing all of this shit?” Ali deadpanned.
“I guess I didn’t want to think about it,” Clarke groaned.
“Since she has that track ‘Sunflowers’ on her last album, you showed up with a bouquet of sunflowers and asked her to meet you for a drink before you left, so your last night in America before you went on a great journey would only be memories of making her laugh,” Ali kept on.
“Sunflowers?!” Clarke gawked. “That song is about MY DAD.”
“Nobody knows what any of your songs are about, Clarke. They’re about whatever the listener needs them to be about. That’s the whole point,” Ali brushed it off.
“So she brought me sunflowers and that was the big panty dropper?” Clarke checked a hip and folded her arms over her chest. “After all of these years of fighting with her, I put out for newsstand sunflowers and a round of drinks?”
“Hey, we both know I at least went to Whole Foods for those flowers,” Lexa joked.
“Somehow I feel like that’s worse,” Clarke glanced back over her shoulder and scowled at Lexa with an unimpressed tight brow.
“No, you did not put out, Clarke, but you had a great time, she made you laugh, you made her think, and you told her that if she was serious about you, she should look you up when she got home from Europe and ask you out again then,” Ali continued.
“That sounds more like her,” Lexa said without thinking.
“Sorry, babe! Are my imaginary standards bothering you because even in our fake world, you’re a giant tool?” Clarke mocked, twisting the ends of her ponytail between her fingers and shooting Lexa a theatrical pout. Lexa couldn’t hold back a snort of laughter.
“It’s just SO CLOSE to being the kind of flirty we need!” Ali clenched and slammed her empty coffee cup on the table. “Anyway!” She turned back to them with her plastered on fake grin punctuated by candy red lipstick. “Clarke, Lexa sent you sunflowers from every stop she made. They arrived at your practice space and your home more than once a week with sweet notes about where she was and how she wished you were there.”
“Alright, that’s pretty cute,” Clarke nodded in agreement. “My fanbase would eat that right up.”
“They’re going to love it, eat it up, picture it happening to themselves, and immediately start following Lexa on instagram and listening to her music looking for clues in the last album to try and figure out if any of the songs are about you,” Ali said quickly. “You two talked all the time on the tour. You texted, you facetimed, the band will attest. Until Lexa got home from the tour…”
“When did you get home from Europe?” Clarke asked Lexa genuinely. Ali let the organic process of the two of them filling in the blanks for the fake story unfold before her and suppressed her maniacal grin as Clarke leaned cautiously into Lexa’s embrace that seemed to finally find itself.
“Uh, February?” Lexa scratched her chin and cocked a brow at Ali. “I think? It was snowing.”
“She was supposed to get in on February 13th, but there was a snowstorm in Germany, so she got home on…” Ali dragged it out and pointed with glee at both of them.
“Oh sweet Jesus,” Clarke dropped her face into her hands and muttered into them.
“VALENTINE’S DAY!” Ali sang out with her hands above her head.
“Come on!” Clarke shouted at the ceiling.
“That’s right! It was Valentine’s day!” Lexa said thoughtfully as she recalled all the memories.
“Clarke remembered how much you said you love chocolate and she got the quintessential V Day heart shaped pack of Russel Stover. She wore a sexy red dress. She had a valentine for you, the whole goddamn storybook, fairytale, romcom experience!” Ali rolled forward and skipped over their horrified reactions. “You were going to meet Lexa at her place when she got home from the airport, but she was coming to your place! When you opened the door to leave, there was Lexa, covered in snow, jetlagged, exhausted, and just so happy to see you.”
“I’m not gonna play for a second that I didn’t go to Duane Reade for that chocolate,” Clarke said firmly.
“You’re a classy broad, Clarke,” Lexa sighed sarcastically.
“Do you actually like chocolate? If they say that, you’re gonna have to choke down chocolate all the time now,” Clarke warned.
“Oh, I love chocolate. Bring it,” Lexa said confidently. “It’s always on my rider.”
“Really?” Clarke laughed.
“Yeah,” Lexa laughed too. “I’ve got a major sweet tooth.”
“Are your teeth fake?” Clarke leaned in and brought the level of personal space they typically shared to a new level to get a closer look.
“What?! No!” Lexa yelped and put a hand over her mouth.
“Let me see them again!” Clarke demanded and wiggled her fingers at Lexa like she might put them right in her mouth. “Come on!”
Lexa, still with her arm protectively around Clarke’s waist as instructed, lowered her hand and gave Clarke a giant grin that showed all of her teeth. Clarke looked them over.
“What?” Lexa said with an inquisitive scowl.
“You’ve got nice teeth for a grown woman who apparently eats that much candy,” Clarke shrugged.
“Dental hygiene is no joke. I brush, floss, and waterpik twice a day, even on the road,” Lexa shrugged back.
“Well, rock ‘n roll, Lexa,” Clarke snorted in a cartoon nerdy voice, pushed up an imaginary pair of glasses and held her other hand up in rock and roll devil horns. “Staying hydrated is so metal.”
“Are you two done?” Ali snapped, toe rapidly tapping on the polished concrete.
“Sorry,” they both muttered at the same time. Clarke found herself leaning tighter into Lexa’s arms to get away from Ali.
“Hug each other,” Ali demanded.
“How?” Lexa squawked.
“With your arms! For fuck’s sake, Lexa!” Ali shouted and three overdressed assistants heading her way with a Diet Coke, a new water bottle, and an ipad all froze in formation.
Lexa hesitated, but Clarke leaned right in and tucked her arms under Lexa’s and pulled her close. Lexa panicked and paused before letting her arms settle uncomfortably around Clarke.
“Alright! Lexa’s too rigid. We knew she would be, so let’s execute plan b, people!” Ali clapped her hands over her head and the staff all shifted to new tasks all around them. “Let’s make it a little easier by getting you both into character, shall we? MAKE UP! Get them both in artist default, pronto!”
Make up artists and assistants and wardrobe swarmed and pulled the musicians apart to their stations on opposite sides of the set. Despite their normal sour feelings towards each other, Clarke and Lexa felt like the only friend to each other in the room full of strangers telling them what to do and who to be.
Being suddenly ripped apart felt cold and unnerving.
Clarke slowly and carefully looked back over her shoulder from her glam chair.
Lexa did the same and caught Clarke’s eye from her seat. She sent a sad little half smile across the room.
Crushed by the overwhelming stress and abrupt up and down of confusing emotions, Clarke looked down into her lap for a few steadying moments before bringing up her chin to look herself in the eye in the mirror. Over her reflection’s shoulder, she could see two stylists yank Lexa’s pony tail out and hit her waves with curlers and straighteners.
Just past the back of Lexa’s head in Clarke’s mirror was Lexa’s reflection. She had her hands over her face. Lexa’s shoulders shook with sad, nervous tension as she tried to slowly let a deep breath out that was stuck on the anxious tension in her chest.
They took Clarke’s hair down and dove into styling it. Eventually, Lexa dropped her hands and glanced up into her mirror.
Clarke’s reflection met hers. As Clarke’s makeup artist leaned back into her palette and gave Clarke a clear mirror eye lock with Lexa, Clarke mouthed ‘I hate this.’
Lexa almost smiled for real into the mirror and mouthed back ‘Me too,’ before one of the stylists spun her away from the glass.
“Here we go!” Ali called out once they were both done up. “Clarke! Lexa! On set!” Clarke and Lexa scurried from their make up chairs to the center of the stark white set and stood awkwardly side by side awaiting instruction. “Your motivation for today’s shoot is that you decided to go public with your relationship this week because you’re so in love that you just can’t keep it to yourselves anymore and you want everyone to know. Clarke had the photo studio booked for upcoming promo material, and Lexa happened to be on a break from practice so she came down to see you to sneak a few kisses and the photographer caught you being cute and you decided we could use the photos. Capisce?”
“Is that a real thing that happens?” Clarke asked absentmindedly. “Like would you all really waste time and resources on that if we were really together?”
“I don’t see the two of you touching!” Ali yelled. Clarke snapped a hand out and grabbed Lexa by the belt loop on her fresh black jeans and pulled her closer.
“Whoa!” Lexa yelped. Clarked turned to make sure she was okay.
“Damn,” Clarke grimaced under the bright lights. “They just put so much fucking make up on you, huh? I’ve never seen you before and after like that,” Clarke blurted out.
“Your dress is dumb,” Lexa bit back after a long pause and nodded down at Clarke’s flowy, pastel floral number. “You look like my third grade teacher.”
“Yeah, it’s super dumb and I hate it,” Clarke came back quickly in an increasingly tighter voice and leaned with intention towards Lexa. “But it’s not as dumb as your belt buckle. What the fuck you got going on here? Rhinestones?” Clarke flicked her finger against Lexa’s glitzy belt buckle and the resulting clink of her nails on the metal sounded extra loud in the room that had gone silent watching them bicker.
“What’s with the random little braids? Do chicks still even do that?” Lexa narrowed her eyes as she reached out and took the end of one of the small braids in Clarke’s curly, half tied back, intentionally messy hair and stood up straighter with fresh fight in her shoulders. “Are you streaming Coachella from home because you’re too much of a prude to actually go?”
“Still rocking a cat eye every day in your thirties?” Clarke came back with a sassy point at Lexa’s eye makeup.
“Are you still singing about nothing every day in your thirties?” Lexa puffed up her chest.
“You’re so obnoxious!” Clarke waved one hand in frustration but kept the other awkwardly linked on Lexa’s belt.
“You’re all over me every time I deal with you!” Lexa spat out through gritted teeth. “Does anyone ever tell you to just shut the fuck up sometimes, Clarke?”
Clarke gasped and stared at Lexa with a gaping mouth.
“Clarke!” Ali interrupted.
“What!” Clarke snapped back.
“Kiss her!” Ali cried.
Clarke huffed a quick breath in and out to ready herself, then turned abruptly to face Lexa. After a quick beat of aggravated eye contact with a set jaw, Clarke planted a hard and heavy kiss on a stiff, uncomfortable, unexpectant Lexa’s over-lined lips.
“Is that how you kiss people?!” Clarke winced at Lexa when she pulled away.
“I didn’t know you were going to kiss me!” Lexa winced back.
“She just told me to!” Clarke cast a hand at Ali.
“It was still a surprise!” Lexa yelped.
“What is the matter with you?” Clarke hissed.
“I’m trying to be respectful!” Lexa hissed back.
“Call your loved ones, people! This is gonna be a loooooong night!” Ali bellowed at the room full of staff.
“Are you gonna make this weird?” Clarke huffed at Lexa and brought her tone and attitude down a few sensitive notches.
“Everything about this is extremely weird!” Lexa squawked. “We can’t stand each other and now we’re kissing and hugging and making jokes like we’re friends now or something! It’s fucked! I hate it!”
“It’s all fake! This is just work!” Clarke let out an annoyed growl. Lexa’s brows knit together in genuine frustration and she struggled to find something to say. “You were the one that was all about it yesterday!”
Standing there looking at her feet and wishing she could figure out the right thing to do made Lexa look the same way she did lingering in the doorway of Clarke’s practice room after she took the time to check on Clarke and was really nice about it. She shuffled one foot the same way she did when she was kind as she said goodnight to Clarke near the train the night before. Lexa had the same stance and slightly dipped shoulders each time she tried to be optimistic and encouraging as they discussed how messed up the situation was.
The truly troubled look in Lexa’s eyes softened a little something in Clarke’s sad, solid core.
“Look, you don’t need to be respectful or polite with me. You don’t like me and that’s fine, but we have a job to do. I give you blanket consent to kiss me anytime you need to, hold me however you have to, and do whatever fake cute shit you want to sell this thing. Now, get over here and figure out how to kiss me correctly so this crew has a prayer of ever going home tonight,” Clarke sassed through a touch of an encouraging smile.
The room collectively held its breath.
“Are you sure?” Lexa asked firmly. Her eyes begged for trust and confirmation. “Cause I’ll do it if you’re sure. I’ll be the cutest, dreamiest, sweetest, funniest fake girlfriend you ever had. You won’t even be able to tell it’s not real.”
“I’m quite confident that I don’t really have a choice as to whether or not I’m sure,” Clarke said evenly. Lexa cocked her head, annoyed. “Fine, Yes. I’m sure. Is that what you need to hear? Now come at me, bro,” she tacked on, just as annoyed as she jokingly beckoned Lexa with her first two fingers.
Lexa briefly studied Clarke’s features looking for a lie or a joke, but it was all too honest. With steady hands and a new confident stance, she brought Clark in carefully with one at her lower back and the other threaded in Clarke’s styled hair for a soft, slow, slightly apprehensive, but very convincing kiss.
Clarke’s tense shoulders relaxed. Her stiff hands that had balled up into fists unclenched and settled on Lexa’s waist as she returned the plausible kiss with a few of her own.
A barrage of clicks cascaded from the cameras.
“Did you get that?” Ali asked the photographer lowly as Clarke and Lexa pulled apart. Clarke dipped her head and wiped the corners of her sheepish smile as she rested her forehead shyly on Lexa’s shoulder. Lexa leaned back and closed her eyes at the ceiling. She winced through a nervous smile and bit her bottom lip in suspense praying that Ali wouldn’t make them do this all day.
The photographer gave Ali a stern thumbs up.
“How was that?” Clarke asked flatly.
“Nice job, ladies,” Ali beamed with pride. “Step one: Get Your Two To Kiss Each Other Believably? Complete.”
“Step one of how many?” Clarke asked grimly. She hadn’t moved from Lexa’s arms yet because she was too scared and startled and confused to do anything without instruction, and it was starting to feel like the only safe haven in the room.
“Oh, Clarke,” Ali tsked. “You don’t want to know.”
They spent the whole morning into the afternoon in front of the camera.
Ali shouted facts about each other for them to memorize mixed in with details about events that never happened to memorize overlaid with instructions to hug each other, hold each other, smile at each other, kiss each other, look natural with each other. Laugh on command. Tell each other jokes. Act silly together. Act soft.
The rapid fire intense work didn’t give them time to stop and bicker. They didn’t have time to think. Both hard workers threw themselves into the assignment and started getting more and more comfortable with each other rapidly. It became less awkward as it solely became a challenge to complete.
Ali caught right on that they could keep up with her and were better off when they did because it didn’t give them time to argue. She turned the dial up to eleven on her speed and ripped it off.
“Let’s get some music please!” Ali shouted from her chair.
“What now?” Clarke whimpered to herself as bouncy latin dance music filled the room. She and Lexa were much looser now and had shaken off any apprehensive feelings about constantly touching each other. They learned enough about how the other moved to move with them naturally and found a groove together. They held hands loosely and comfortably while waiting for their next instructions.
“Dance with each other!” Ali demanded.
Clarke hesitated, but Lexa didn’t. With quick and fluid grace, Lexa took a few steps back to put space between them, then spun Clarke into a perfect ballroom stance. Clarke’s eyes flew open with shock before she settled into her newly familiar place of Lexa holding a strong hand against her lower back.
“Do you know the Cha Cha?” Lexa asked calmly.
“I honestly can’t tell if you’re being serious right now,” Clarke narrowed her gaze at Lexa.
“Just watch my feet and do the reverse. It’s easy. I’ll tell you what to do,” Lexa almost sounded excited. There was a new light in her eye and so much less distress.
“You’re serious? The Cha Cha? Lexa, this is Pitbull,” Clarke nodded her head towards the speakers.
“Follow my lead,” Lexa ignored her and started her steps.
“I don’t know what I’m doing!” Clarke yelped.
“That’s why I’m leading! Look. Look down at my feet and listen to my counts,” Lexa said with a slower, helpful tone.
“This is fucking incredible,” Ali murmured with her hand over her mouth. “I wanted to see what they’d do, and they’re doing an actual, proper Cha Cha to Pitbull,” she carried on a dramatically wiped fake tears of pride away. “We’ve gotta put them in more situations where we give them some room to figure out what to do. These two have so much natural chemistry it’s messed up. I want to projectile vomit with glee!”
The photographers quickly got every shot they could. Lexa was a good teacher and Clarke was a quick study.
“How are you so good at this?” Clarke giggled as she fumbled a few steps. Lexa caught her and brought her right back into the rhythm.
“I dated a dancer for a few years,” Lexa replied with a little smirk. “She taught me a lot.”
“Like a back up dancer?” Clarke asked before Lexa twirled her around for a quick spin and then brought her close again.
“Sometimes. Ballet, mostly. She did a lot of ballroom. All kinds of stuff,” Lexa shrugged. Clarke mulled it over during an impressed nod. “What?” Lexa pressed and let her smirk fully unfold.
“Nothing,” Clarke pinched her lips shut. Lexa spun her out and back in extra close, then without warning, dropped Clarke into a full dip as the song came to a close.
“Getitgetitgetit! GET! IT!” Ali jumped out of her chair and crowded the photographer closest to her shouting and spitting through a manic, clenched grin.
Clarke burst out laughing. It was authentic and it sounded so different from all of the fake laughs during their afternoon of training.
“Where did that come from?!” Clarke caught her breath once she was upright.
“I just want to know which part of ‘charming as hell’ was unclear?” Lexa raised cocky brows at Clarke. Clarke opened her mouth for a retort, but Ali cut her off.
“Ladies!” Ali cried out. They both snapped to startled attention still in their dancer’s embrace. “We have what we need. Why don’t you two take a break?”
It was well past dark when they were finally released for the day.
Ali made them answer questions and learn new facts, some real, some made up, while walking around holding hands. A crew brought in a sofa and they had to figure out how to act familiar with each other casually sitting on a couch since they were likely to be brought on plenty of talk shows.
Before they left for the night, Ali let them look together at some of the shots from the session.
“I like that one,” Lexa pointed to the photo of Clarke upside down in the dip with her eyes closed and her mouth open laughing.
“Why?” Clarke asked, careful to hide any emotion.
“You look happy and it doesn’t look fake,” Lexa shrugged. “You look like you’re having fun.”
Clarke pointed to Lexa’s face in the photo that had a gentle, genuine smile as well.
“So do you,” Clarke shrugged back.
Ali stood behind them reviewing the photos holding hands and talking to each other calmly and productively. She bit her tongue behind a smug smile.
“Alright,” Clarke spoke for both of them as she turned around to face Ali. “What next?”
“We’re logged into your social media accounts and we’ll be controlling them for the duration, so no need to worry about what filters to choose or what to say. We have company credit cards for both of you to use for your dates and time spent together and anything you need to buy to make this look real in public. Your date schedule, couple training, and social schedule has been uploaded to your work calendars, and we’ll have curriers bring your new wardrobe to your homes and practice spaces as needed,” Ali rattled off quickly.
“I guess it’s nice not to have to think about all that stuff,” Lexa tried.
“I have your direct lines and you need to be ready for my commands via call or text at any moment. Believe it when I say it that I will always be watching you in public,” Ali kept on her quick and serious tone.
“I’m terrified by how much I believe it,” Clarke replied with wide eyes.
“A reminder that if you leak a word of this, if any of this is not convincing, if anyone finds out this isn’t real and it’s your fault, the legal ramifications will be astonishing,” Ali warned.
“We better get it together quick, then, eh, Sweet Cheeks?” Clarke playfully winked at Lexa who laughed. “I can’t afford to get sued.”
“Neither can I, Babydoll,” Lexa muttered as her laugh died down to a chuckle.
“Your first posts coming out about your relationship will be tomorrow at noon,” Ali ignored their lazy banter. “Go home and get some rest. Tomorrow is the first day of the rest of your lives! That’s a wrap on Clexa Day One!” she cried with gusto. The room of staff let out a chorus of relieved groans.
Clarke and Lexa gathered their things and headed for the door through the bustle of the crew breaking down for the night.
“I’m seeing a lot of space between you two!” Ali called after them.
They both paused and turned back to look at her. She raised a brow and dipped her gaze to their hands.
“Come on,” Clarke huffed and took Lexa’s hand in hers.
“You ready?” Lexa asked quietly. She rested her hand on the door before exiting into the Polis hallways.
“I guess we have to be,” Clarke relented.
“Don’t look at any of them,” Lexa gave her a little nod of reassurance before pushing the door open. “Just look at me.”
“Stay focused and on the assignment,” Clarke agreed through a deep breath. “We’re in love and we’re not getting sued.”
“We love our jobs, and each other,” Lexa hyped them up further.
“Gross,” Clarke huffed briefly.
“Yup,” Lexa matched her tone.
They didn’t say anything else as they walked the Polis halls together. When they entered the bustling lobby full of gawking stares at the longtime enemies in full artist glam strolling hand in hand and grinning at each other, they stayed true to the plan, kept their eyes on each other and practiced their fake laughs and flirty giggles.
On the sidewalk just outside of the building’s big, glass, panoramic windows and doors showcasing stunned employees, Lexa’s phone chimed and startled them both.
‘Kiss her goodbye,’ from Ali lit up the homescreen. They both swallowed their natural reactions.
“So it’s gonna be like that?” Clarke flicked her eyes down at the screen, then sympathetically up to Lexa’s.
“I guess so,” Lexa replied sadly through a fake smile.
“Just do it,” Clarke encouraged in a small, defeated voice. Lexa pulled her in for a hug that looked loving from inside the lobby but on the sidewalk felt comforting and apologized for the situation they were in.
“See you tomorrow,” Lexa said sincerely before pressing a gentle kiss to Clarke’s forehead. She turned and walked away before Clarke could respond.
Knowing they were all watching her, Clarke forced out a fake giddy grin that fell off her face like dead weight when she was out of view.
***
The next day promptly at noon, Clarke’s phone started buzzing uncontrollably and interrupted her practice. She set her guitar down and sat quietly with closed eyes to gain a few more moment’s peace before taking in the inevitable.
She had a hard time sleeping the night before.
The long day with Lexa rolled over in her mind as she tossed and turned and tried to fall asleep. The confusing mix of feeling constantly annoyed by Lexa’s digs, but comforted by Lexa’s hand at her back all day poked and prodded at Clarke any time she got comfortable.
They were both good actresses as made clear by how well they played their current parts in their careers, but Clarke was surprised they were both able to get their fake affection under control so quickly after a rocky start.
Pleasantly surprised, since the repercussions of not being able to do so were horrifying.
A tidal wave of likes and comments and heart eyes and exclamations pounded down on Clarke when she finally braved her social media. A gentle knock on her door dragged her out of the bottomless pit of reactions.
“It’s open,” Clarke called. She stood in the middle of the room with her hands on her hips trying to figure out how the hell to feel.
“Hey,” Lexa opened the door and popped her head in. She held up her phone that also chimed and buzzed uncontrollably. “I’m thinking about turning mine off.”
“Big same, but I’m too scared we’ll get instructions from above,” Clarke rolled her eyes up towards the ceiling and the executive floors much higher up.
“Looks like we’re official,” Lexa winced. Both of them felt the urge to inch towards one another after their conditioning to never be apart.
“And according to my own instagram post, apparently I’ve never been happier,” Clarke rolled her eyes all the way around with a tired laugh. “Do you want to come in?”
“Oh,” Lexa stuttered. “Uh, sure.”
“Are you alright?” Clarke asked sincerely.
“Nah,” Lexa laughed nervously. “Prepared to lie my way through it, though.”
“Right there with you,” Clarke sighed. “They updated my work calendar. Looks like you’re taking me out for dinner,” she added on in a mock flirty tone.
“I saw that. That’s part of why I’m here,” Lexa returned the over it eyes and worn out chuckle.
“What’s the other part?” Clarke asked carefully.
“I guess I just thought we should check in after yesterday,” Lexa shrugged awkwardly. “Kind of a weird day. Kind of a weird thing we’re doing. Figured we should keep some open communication during this process. Maybe set up some boundaries or a safe word or something.”
“A safe word?” Clarke blurted out a little laugh. “How far are you planning to take things with me to sell this?”
“Come on, shut up,” Lexa chuckled. “I mean it. If one of us needs a break or it’s getting overwhelming or whatever, we should have a way to signal to each other that we need a second.”
“That’s very thoughtful,” Clarke chewed her lip and mulled it over. “And I agree that’s a good idea. Do you have any suggestions?” She flipped her phone screen down onto a chair to stop glancing at the steady flow of notifications.
“How about if we tell the other our feet hurt, that’s a clue we need to pump the brakes and get some privacy to drop the act for a second?” Lexa suggested.
“Easy enough,” Clarke nodded. “How are your feet feeling right now?” She asked smugly.
“Oh, they’re killing me,” Lexa chuckled. “I’ve gotta practice now and face the band. We’ve got a show this weekend.”
“I know. My VIP passes just arrived and I’ll be your supportive girlfriend in the front row,” Clarke said through a tired smile.
“Nice,” Lexa sent the tired smile back. “Want me to meet you here to head to dinner?”
“Sounds good,” Clarke replied, an uneasy sigh sneaking through her faux confidence.
***
“So, I’ve been thinking,” Clarke began after an awkward lull at the dinner table eight hours later. Her feet were intertwined with Lexa’s under the table to maintain their Always Touching In Public Rule.They had her in jeans and a cute top and heels up against Lexa’s sharp angled all black look at a trendy New American spot that all of the artists were being photographed at.
“Does it hurt?” Lexa smiled slyly as she wiped her mouth with the napkin from her lap.
“It’s not as painful as this date,” Clarke scoffed.
Dinner was a little weird.
No one was there to call out what to do. Ali sent her invasive texts periodically, but for the most part, they were on their own. While a few fake snuggles and fake laughs for the public got them started, now they were trapped on a very public Manhattan sidewalk patio in a very popular restaurant with a lot of people staring at them and the only thing they had in common was mutual dislike and a weird day of kissing and touching and dancing.
“I think we should call a truce,” Clarke finished.
“How’s that?” Lexa asked nervously. Her heavy eye makeup made her expressive light eyes pop even more in the low light.
“I’m really, really good at my job,” Clarke spoke lowly so none of the onlookers could pick up on what she was saying. “I do whatever it takes to do a good job, and judging by the little glimpses I’ve gotten into you over the past few days, apparently you’re really good at your job, too.”
“It appears we both do a bang up job of pretending to be something we’re not,” Lexa agreed. She sat up straighter and tried to keep an even and diplomatic fake smile on just in case anyone was looking.
“And although we can’t stand each other, currently my job is to be convincingly in love with you,” Clarke spoke slowly to get the words out without emotion. “And since I take my job seriously, and I do my job to the fullest, I need to go hard and really do that.”
“Which, coincidentally, is my job as well,” Lexa nodded along.
“If we both want to do a good job, which seems to be the one thing we truly share, we’re gonna need to work together,” Clarke sighed. “I think we need to figure out how to stop fighting all the time and stop being assholes to each other.”
“Do you think you can?” Lexa asked, her fake smile ticking up in the corners into something real.
“For the sake of my career, I’m willing to try if you are,” Clarke tilted her head and gave Lexa an earnest look.
“I think you’re right,” Lexa finally exhaled.
“Truce?” Clarke held her glass of wine up to Lexa.
“Truce,” Lexa agreed and clinked her glass against Clarke’s.
“I’m pretty sure that the better job we do of this on our own, the less Ali will be all over our asses. If we have to do this weird thing for them, maybe we can at least do it our way,” Clarke’s tone shifted to something sincere and new that Lexa had never heard before.
“I hadn’t really thought of it that way,” Lexa chewed her lip and puzzled over it. “I didn’t think we had any power whatsoever in this thing, which has been paralyzingly terrifying.”
“Not sure if you’ve bothered to check, but the photo getting reposted the most is when you had me in that dip,” Clarke chuckled. “No one told you to do the freaking Cha Cha. That was all you. That was brilliant. That’s the kind of thing I’m talking about.”
“That’s because you’re laughing for real in that photo,” Lexa chuckled at the memory. “You actually look genuinely happy. Anya had a lot of questions about what went down in that studio based on the pictures they used because I gotta hand it to them. It’s very convincing. We look like we’re having a great time and like we like each other very much.”
“Yeah, and all the photos they used were from when the two of us got it together and made it work our own way, so let’s take this bizarre thing back from them and make it ours,” Clarke said with a stern look in her eye.
“That’s so smart,” Lexa trailed off, her brain already paging through ideas. “I didn’t know you were smart.”
“There’s all kinds of stuff about me you don’t know. And look, I know you hate me, but-”
“I don’t hate you,” Lexa interrupted Clarke firmly.
“Are you sure?” Clarke laughed nervously.
“Hate is a strong word,” Lexa continued with a heavy look. “I think you’re obnoxious, you don’t listen, you’re exhausting, and you’re a total bitch, but I always figured it had to come from somewhere and that I wasn’t the source. I’m just in your way and an easy target.”
“Go on,” Clarke propped her elbow on the table and rested her chin in her hand with a curious grin.
“Part of why I always fight with you is that I’m waiting for you to finally snap for real so I can see where the hell all of this pent up anger of yours is coming from. Your songs are so fucking boring and your image is clearly fake and it couldn’t be more obvious that you hate it. I always kind of wondered who was really in there, you know?” Lexa gestured with her wine glass at Clarke, who scoffed out a laugh and looked down at her empty dinner plate to hide that she was annoyed that Lexa was totally right.
“I hate how accurate that is,” Clarke shook her head, embarrassed.
“I feel like I only ever see glimpses of the real you when you’re attacking me, so I provoke you all the time,” Lexa admitted.
“I don’t hate you either,” Clarke relaxed in her chair. “I resent you. I can also tell that you and the band have a ridiculously fake image and you’re clearly creating below your talents, but you all seem to be enjoying it. Your fake life looks fun. Mine is absolutely suffocating.”
“For me, maybe,” Lexa shrugged. “I’m a nerdy girl from New Jersey blessed with incredible genetics and affluent parents that are obsessed with me and are relentlessly supportive. For the other three, this is all they have. If this ends, their lives will be very, very difficult.”
“I hear that,” Clarke let out a big sigh and downed the rest of her wine.
“What, you can’t go running back to that big house with the yard full of Sunflowers in the Connecticut suburbs where you learned to ride a bike?” Lexa asked smugly.
“How do you know about that?” Clarke asked cautiously and carefully raised a brow.
“I listened to your whole discography last night,” Lexa shrugged shyly. “Research.”
“That house is gone,” Clarke exhaled after a long pause in which she decided not to touch the idea of Lexa digging that deeply. “There is no house for me to go home to in Connecticut anymore. My parents are both in an assisted living apartment complex with terminal illnesses that I am the sole provider of their care for.”
“Oh, shit,” Lexa’s face fell instantly. “Clarke, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know that.”
“Why would you?” Clarke asked calmly.
“I don’t know,” Lexa swallowed hard and tried to shake an embarrassed smile. “I guess I wouldn’t.”
“I don’t exactly advertise it because it’s so sad it makes me sick if I think too hard about it. I’m an only child. They were both only children. All four of my grandparents are dead. When they die, I’ll be the last one,” Clarke explained with a tight throat but brave eyes.
“Jesus,” Lexa puffed a big breath out through closed lips.
“‘Sunflowers’ sells pop-folk records. ‘The last of my bloodline’ does not,” Clarke said flatly with a knowing look Lexa’s way.
“That’s awful and sounds very hard,” Lexa mustered up a sympathetic half smile.
“It is awful and it is very hard,” Clarke agreed in a small voice. “I’ve been doing this since I was a teenager. I have no other skills. This is how I pay to keep them alive. If I lose my contract and my career, I’m probably going to lose them a lot sooner, too.”
“Then we better make this romance pretty fucking convincing,” Lexa said succinctly with a little nod. Clarke’s posture visibly relaxed.
Lexa’s phone lit up on the table and interrupted them before Clarke could respond.
“It appears the table behind you has several hot shots from Wells Fargo at it whose teenage daughters have realized who we are and they keep pointing at the back of your head. I think they’re your fans, not mine, but they are about us, and they have massive TikTok followings,” Lexa sighed as she read the incoming texts from Ali.
“So?” Clarke furrowed her brow at the quick change of topics.
“So I’m going to get up and go use the restroom, and I’m going to kiss you before I leave, but you need to turn towards me so they can see that it’s you, and it would be ideal if we could give them an angle to get a photo,” Lexa grumbled.
“How does she do this?! Is she in the restaurant?! Is one of these tables full of undercover Polis marketing employees?!” Clarke whispered frantically and flicked her eyes around to try and spot the spy.
“I have no idea, but in the interest of our new truce and that new info about your folks, I’m going to make this look good if that’s okay with you,” Lexa muttered as she got out of her chair.
“Can you? That first time we kissed you were a holy mess,” Clarke smirked.
“Is that a challenge or are you flirting with me?” Lexa smirked back.
“I’m walking the line between keeping our truce and making fun of you, which I think is about as close to flirting with you as I’m gonna be able to get at this time,” Clarke sighed through her fake grin that the teenage influencers were eating alive.
“I can work with that,” Lexa cocked a confident brow before gently tipping Clarke’s chin up with her first two fingers and kissing her softly. Clarke let her eyes fall closed and leaned up to meet Lexa’s lips with all of the acting prowess she had in her. “Looks like they got their shot, so I’ll be right back,” Lexa murmured through a phony, lovey grin as she pulled away.
Clarke pinched the bridge of her nose and took a few steadying breaths once Lexa was gone.
“May I take this, ma’am?” The server startled her out of her quiet spiral as he gestured at her empty entree plate. Clarke studied him a little too closely before answering and tried to remember if she’d seen his face around the label hallways.
Maybe he was the spy.
“Yes, thank you,” Clarke finally relented.
“Anything else for you both?” He asked.
‘Order dessert. Chocolate,’ lit up on her phone. She let out a frustrated breath.
“We’ll have another bottle of wine and whatever your chocolatiest dessert is,” Clarke forced a polite smile at him that slid off her face the moment he walked away. Her phone vibrated in her hand.
‘Feed it to her when she gets back to the table.’
“You’ve gotta be shitting me,” Clarke hissed and dropped her phone with a thud.
“What now?” Lexa grimaced as she sat back down. She habitually snuggled her feet between Clarke’s and nodded at the phone.
“I had instructions to order you dessert, which I did,” Clarke hesitated and Lexa’s eyes grew wider while she waited for the rest. “And I have to feed it to you when it gets here.”
“Oh ew. Come on! Are they gonna make us one of those couples?” Lexa yelped.
“Unless we make ourselves a different kind really quickly, I think so!” Clarke yelped back.
Lexa glanced to the side with a quick thinking expression. Her eyes darted back and forth from Clarke’s phone to her dessert fork.
“Show me the text,” Lexa perked up. “What’s the exact wording?”
Clarke spun her phone around.
“Follow my lead,” Lexa said with confidence through a conspiratorial smirk.
“The last time you said that, I ended up upside down,” Clarke said skeptically.
“I recall you telling me it was brilliant half an hour ago,” Lexa taunted as the server set down a plate of decadent chocolate cake.
“Our chocolatiest dessert, ma’am,” he winked at Clarke, topped off their wine and left the bottle on the table.
“Alright, Big Shot. Whatcha got for us?” Clarke whispered under her breath and nodded at the cake.
“I bet you can’t cut a piece of that off and get it in my mouth from there,” Lexa challenged loudly, then set her stance and opened her mouth. She beckoned for Clarke to throw the cake to her.
“Lexa,” Clarke warned.
“C’mon,” Lexa egged her on. “Is your aim that bad?”
The teenagers behind them and a few tables of twenty somethings took a sudden interest.
“If you choke, I’m not giving you the heimlich,” Clarke huffed.
“I’ll only choke if you can actually get it in my mouth,” Lexa laughed. “Judging by all this stalling you’re doing, I’m gonna be just fine.”
“Alright, hold still, you dick,” Clarke held back a laugh but couldn’t contain her very real smile at how ridiculous the whole thing was. She closed one eye sarcastically to aim, then tossed the bite of cake right into Lexa’s mouth.
Lexa had excited eyes and held her hands up like a football ref calling for a touchdown. The onlookers cheered.
“Hey! We did it, Babe!” Lexa cried around the cake. Her pet name was fake, but her enthusiasm was real.
“Thank you, thank you very much,” Clarke jokingly tipped a pretend hat to the tables around them who were clapping and laughing.
“Nice shot,” Lexa smiled at Clarke with a mouthful of chewed food.
“Yuck,” Clarke waved her way before taking a bite of the cake. “This is pretty good though.”
“Right?” Lexa reached in with her own fork. “And technically, you have fed it to me.”
“So that’s the new plan? You’re gonna be whimsical and silly and cute?” Clarke quirked a brow.
“Newsflash, Clarke. I’m adorable, and I have been the whole time,” Lexa came back quickly.
“My fans will think so,” Clarke said thoughtfully. “My real boyfriend when I was first signed dumped me super publicly and the label has kept me single since, which works out just fine since I pretty much have been.”
“They fan the flames of just about any rumor about me sleeping with someone,” Lexa replied with disgust. “I almost never am. Anyone you’ve heard that I’m screwing? There’s a significant chance we’ve never even been in the same room together.”
“That’s so funny,” Clarke chuckled into her wine glass. “I had a solid rotation going for a while that they were adamant I keep underwraps.”
“Good for you,” Lexa tipped her glass to Clarke.
“So you’re gonna be funny and cute and considerate and actually care about me?” Clarke swirled the wine in her glass and watched it settle and become still again. Something inside her stirred up as she spoke about how her fake self would be treated.
“They want me doting over you and treating you like a princess and taking good care of you. It’s what I do,” Lexa shrugged. The slightest hint of pink in her cheeks was easily dismissed by the warm night and heavy pours of white wine and not a glaring indicator that she was feeling vulnerable. “Starting to look like the label is finally getting me right.”
“Alright, then who should I be?” Clarke brought her eyes up from her wine to meet Lexa’s.
“Who do you want to be?” Lexa didn’t break their gaze.
“Ali’s probably just going to change it anyway,” Clarke said through a breathy, uncertain laugh after holding the eye contact a little too long.
“I think you should pull from your real self, too,” Lexa leaned back in her chair with a delighted look at where this was headed. “My fans would love to see me with a smart, hot, natural blonde that’s secretly slutty and interesting and absolutely fucking nuts.”
Clarke gaped at Lexa’s bold attitude.
“Those are literally all your own words,” Lexa reminded her.
“I know, but they sound different when you say them!” Clarke snapped.
“Does that make them any less true?” Lexa asked earnestly.
“I guess not,” Clarke let Lexa’s words roll around as she took a big swig of her wine.
“Then why don’t we use this bag fat lie as a way to finally be honest?” Lexa raised a persuasive brow at Clarke. “Might be kind of fun. It’ll make this weird thing we’re doing worthwhile. Quicker path to using our break up to become your real self.”
“Alright,” Clarke nodded slowly. “Let’s give it a shot until she reigns us in. Are you sure you’re ready for all this?” She pointed to herself with her fork.
“Have you ever seen them live?” Raven asked Clarke as they hurried from their cab to the stage door of a big club The Grounders were playing Friday night.
“No, but I need to act like I have,” Clarke replied as she dug through her purse for a smoke. “I watched a couple of videos this afternoon.”
“They’re actually really, really good,” Raven said with an excited grin. “I know up until this moment you never would’ve wanted to hear me say that, so I never bothered. Their studio stuff is fine, but on stage? They kill.”
“Lexa was telling me about all of their training,” Clarke muttered around her cigarette while still digging for a lighter.
“How much time are you two spending together, exactly?” Raven asked nervously.
“A lot,” Clarke sighed. “Tuesday was a twelve hour affair of getting used to each other on all kinds of levels. We had a dinner date Wednesday night. Yesterday was another affection bootcamp day. They gave her the day off from me today because of her show tonight, but we are expected to make a love filled appearance at the after party. The second we walk in, we’re on. It’s gonna feel weird. Be ready for it.”
“What do you mean?” Raven chuckled.
“We’re kinda good at this when we both put our all into it,” Clarke shrugged. “We called a truce, had a long talk, and we’re all in. You know it’s fake, so when it looks real, just be cool.”
“Alright,” Raven trailed off.
“Well! If it isn’t my two favorite girls!” Anya kicked open the stage door with a cigarette in one hand and a spilling draft beer in the other. “Clarke! Who I have loved the whole time and definitely told Lexa she should go for it with you ages ago, how the hell are you?” Anya slung her arm around Clarke’s shoulder and gave her an overacted kiss on the cheek. “That’s right. I’m making up my own canon. I’m a B character and I want in on this mess.”
“Oh, good,” Clarke replied flatly through a tired smile as she took Anya’s beer from her and drank half of it. “That shouldn’t complicate this bizarre situation at all.”
“Right?” Anya giggled. “How are you holding up for real, though?”
“I’m fine,” Clarke lied.
“Yeah, okay,” Anya rolled her eyes. “Listen, my future hinges on the success of this charade, too, so if you need anything, help or whatever, support, intel about Lexa to help? I don’t even know what you might need, but if you feel like I can assist, please hit me up.”
“What kind of intel?” Clarke asked with genuine curiosity. She plucked Anya’s cigarette from her hand and used it to light her own.
“What kind do you want?” Anya wagged her brows with a cheeky grin. “I know every single thing about her.”
“Alright, break it up, that’s enough,” Lexa joined them in the back alley. Sounds of the opening band wrapping up chased her out the door. “You’re looking a little more pop-rock than usual, Clarke.” She carried two bottles of beer and offered one to Clarke.
“This is what was in the garment bag that showed up at my apartment for tonight,” Clarke shrugged. She had on tight black jeans, pink pumps, a white flowy top and a crisp black denim jacket with a Grounders button on the collar. Her curls were down and styled big and she wore more makeup and jewelry than usual. “Which is funny, because I own this exact jacket.”
“Nice,” Lexa chuckled. “These aren’t mine,” she added on and pointed to her over the top leather pants and combat boots. Glitzier eye makeup than her usual fair around the office combined with much louder accessories and huge wavy hair had Lexa stage ready.
“I think they’re going to start dressing us to match each other,” Clarke tugged on the hem of Lexa’s leather jacket playfully. “Which should be interesting when you come to one of my shows.”
“You don’t know what I really look like yet,” Lexa tsked and matched Clarke’s tone. “Maybe I’ll borrow some of those flowy floral numbers the label lets you keep.”
“I hope you’re joking,” Clarke warned as she exhaled her smoke away from Lexa.
“Anya! Lexa! Ten minutes!” A stagehand called out the door at them.
“I gotta go,” Lexa smiled warmly. “Can you try to get some gum or something before I have to kiss you in front of people later? I can’t stand those things,” Lexa wrinkled her nose and pointed at Clarke’s cigarette.
“Uh, yeah,” Clarke stammered. She took one more drag before putting it out. “Sure. I have some.”
“Thanks. It’ll help me stay in character,” Lexa grinned and kept eye contact with Clarke as she walked backwards a few steps towards the door. “I hope you enjoy the show!”
“You’re right. It’s weird,” Raven said bluntly after the stage door closed behind Lexa.
“Just you wait,” Clarke sighed.
The venue was packed.
Clarke and Raven had VIP passes. Security escorted them to a small, blocked off area right down in front where they had a great view of the stage, and a lot of the audience had a view of them.
“Everyone behind us is taking your picture!” Raven leaned in to talk over the noise of the chanting crowd beckoning the grounders to come out.
“Yup!” Clarke replied with her fake, excited smile on. “That’s happening a lot this week! Everyone knows who I am again all of a sudden!”
A bunch of green lights lit up the stage as a loud power chord burst through the din of the crowd. The unmistakable silhouettes of the band bounced onto the stage and took up their positions.
“What’s up New York!” Lexa called into her mic. A wave of cheers flooded back to her. “We’ve got a great show in store for you tonight!” The cheering grew even louder. “We’re gonna do all of your favorites, and maybe a few special treats, too!” Lexa looked down into the VIP area, caught Clarke’s eye and shot her a flirty wink. “Are you ready?!”
The band exploded into their set.
They were high energy, very technical, and so much fun to watch. The solos, the movement, and the way Lexa commanded the audience made Clarke’s fake support slide into actual cheering after the first few songs. They sang in perfect four part harmonies over choruses. They were funny together and nice to each other. Their loyal fanbase cheered and screamed and danced and sang along the whole time.
“Alright, we’re gonna do something fun tonight,” Lexa announced during a lull between songs near the end of the set. Her chest heaved as she strolled around the stage after a particularly rowdy song. Echo wiped her face on a towel and tossed it off stage. Anya chugged a beer and yanked her long messy hair into a ponytail behind her kit.
“I love you, Lexa!” A rambunctious fan screamed out from the floor seats.
“Hey, I love you, too, but be careful with that. My woman is in the house tonight and she’s feisty,” Lexa joked and was met with laughter and a new round of cheers. “She also is a very talented guitar player,” Lexa trailed off. Clarke looked back and forth at two security guards approaching her from either side.
“Lexa, NO,” Clarke planted her hands on her hips.
“Do you guys think she should play on this next one with us?” Lexa smirked at the audience. The thundering applause and cheers made the room shake. Raven’s laughter got swallowed by the crowd as Clarke glared at her. “Alright! Get her up here, boys!” Lexa coaxed the security guards to help Clarke onto the stage.
“Hey! Wait! Hey!” Clarke yelped as she got brought up to center stage with Lexa.
“Hi, Honey. Say hello to New York,” Lexa beamed the smuggest smile at Clarke before pointing the microphone at her.
“Hello, New York,” Clarke played along and gave a bashful little wave to the crowd.
“I’m gonna play piano on this next one and let my babe here hold down the rhythm guitar for me. What do you all think about that?” Lexa grinned at the audience who responded positively with more cheering and shouting. Clarke’s look of shock made it abundantly clear that the moment wasn’t scripted.
Anya leaned into her mic and started a slow and low chant of Clarke’s name over and over with a soft drum beat. The audience picked up on it immediately and within moments the entire packed venue was chanting her name.
“What do you say, babe?” Lexa held back her laughter.
“I’m gonna fucking kill you,” Clarke said loudly enough for only Lexa to hear through a fake grin.
“She’ll do it!” Lexa held a triumphant hand over her head, then lifted her guitar strap up and over onto Clarke.
“You’re dead. You’re a walking dead woman. I’m gonna just straight up murder you,” Clarke muttered as she let Lexa’s guitar find its place on her body.
“Hey, look at me,” Lexa got close to Clarke so she could hear her and held the mic away so no one else could. Clarke flicked worried eyes up to meet Lexa’s solid, happy glance. “This is one of our oldest songs. It’s a 1 4 5 1 starting on D. You’re fine. This is below your skill level. Follow Lincoln for cues.”
“But-”
Lexa shut Clarke up with a quick kiss that sent the audience over the edge.
“You got this,” Lexa said firmly with the most reassuring, real smile. “Maybe it’ll even be a little fun for you.”
“Fun?!” Clarke yelped.
“You ready to party, New York?” Lexa rallied the crowd once more before setting her mic in its stand by the piano. Clarke flicked through a few quick chords to get a feel for the new instrument.
“Are you ready to party, Clarke?” Anya had the most excited, silly grin of them all. Clarke nodded at her reluctantly. “One! Two! One, two, three, four!” Anya clicked her sticks above her head to count them off.
Clarke listened to the opening, nodding her head and tapping her foot as she found the feel of the song. After the intro, she found her groove with them and jumped right in. Lexa was right. The song was structured simply and she slid right into the line up. The classic patterns and vocals let the grounders take turns soloing hard and bringing impromptu creativity to the tune.
Clarke loosened up right away and thrived on the high of being on stage and playing with other people for the first time in way too long.
“Clarke!” Echo shouted over Anya’s drum solo as she approached Clarke on the stage. “How’s your solo game?”
“Decent. Rooted in blues and jazz!” Clarke shouted back.
“Nice!” Echo nodded in approval. “I’m next, but let’s take turns. 12 bars each, call and answer. I’ll start!”
The downbeat came before Clarke could say no.
The look of pure, delighted, unfiltered, genuine joy on Lexa’s face at the piano as Clarke and Echo bounced the melody back and forth was so real and easily mistaken for love. The rest of the band jumped back in for the final choruses and brought the impromptu jam to a close with one final loud pounding chord to absolutely thunderous applause.
The band all clapped and pointed at Clarke who sheepishly held her hands up and dipped her head in a little bow.
“Clarke Griffin, everybody!” Lexa shouted into her mic before she crossed the stage to meet Clarke. “Hey! That was so awesome!” Lexa cried gleefully as she accepted her guitar back from Clarke.
“I told you I was better than the music they have me making,” Clarke said through heavy breaths. “I’m still mad at you for springing that on me, but you were right. It was fun.”
“And maybe kinda honest?” Lexa smirked and raised a brow as she called back to their new strategy.
“Very honest. Still mad at you, though,” Clarke replied frankly. “And two can play at this game, and I play to win.”
“I expect nothing less,” Lexa’s grin spread even wider.
“I’ll see you backstage, you fuckin’ asshole,” Clarke muttered affectionately through a flirty smile before leaving a smack on the ass of Lexa’s leather pants that was loud enough for Lincoln’s mic to pick it up.
He shot Lexa an open mouthed grin. Anya shouted a cat call.
Clarke strutted off the stage with a very natural, very sexy look back and subtle head nod at a stunned Lexa before disappearing. Wolf whistles and howls chased her offstage.
“Hot damn! Clarke Griffin, everybody!” Lexa repeated through a laugh she couldn't contain. “We’ve got a few more, and then you don’t have to go home, but you can’t stay here!” Lexa cried as the band broke into a new song.
A security guard handed Clarke a bottle of water once she was in the dark wings and out of the crowd’s sight line.
Lexa caught her eye a few bars into the song and mouthed ‘Very nice.’
Clarke playfully shrugged back as she chugged from her water. She felt her phone vibrate in her pocket and stole a few moments to recenter before looking at the inevitable reprimand from Ali about going off script.
In the group text the three of them shared, it simply said, ‘Incredible.’
Inspired by this prompt, an enemies to lovers with fake dating AU set in the music industry.
Summary:
Lexa is the frontwoman of The Grounders, a pop-rock band whose last album fell a little flat. Clarke Griffin is a falsey branded nice girl next door making pop folk music. They're on the same label and both not doing so hot, and they have a long history of hating each other.
The executives of the label think there’s a perfect way to revive both struggling artists as they watch a cheeky internet feud unfold in real time and the corresponding amount of comments on how hot and flirty it is from fans.
Monday morning, Clarke and Lexa find themselves in the head of marketing’s office with the c-suite team with a new proposal:
They need to pretend to be a couple as a publicity stunt, or they’re losing their contracts. And the catch? They have to write and record a sexy song together and perform it live on a few big stages to sell the relationship to the public….or they’re off the label for good.
They can't stand each other and make each other miserable, but they need to make nice and make music together for the summer while keeping all of their feelings in the right lanes.
Part One Below - 10302 words:
“So what you’re saying is,” Lexa Woods, lead singer, songwriter, and famous frontwoman for the pop rock group The Grounders, began slowly. She and her bandmates sat gathered around a conference table on a summery Friday afternoon with their manager reviewing recent numbers for their third studio album that had been out for a few months.
“That we’re fucked,” Anya Bridges, drummer and resident realist sitting on Lexa’s right, finished for her.
“Pretty fucked,” Indra, the band’s manager muttered through a hand covering her mouth from across the table. Delivering both the bad news to the band that they weren’t doing so hot and also needing to hype them up at the same time was never her strongest skill.
“Well? The second album was a smash,” Lexa leaned forward and rested her elbows on the table as she leafed through the charts and reports in front of her pretending to look at them and understand them, but it was all a clever cover up for how anxious she was. “What happened?”
“You put out 12 songs that sound just like the last 14, only overproduced and somehow blander, and you’re not getting any younger,” Indra replied flatly alongside a weighty glare over the top of her glasses.
“Whoa!” Lincoln, overprotective bassist and perpetual seer of the bright side sitting to Lexa’s left, spat out with wide eyes. “That’s a little harsh.”
“Not wrong, though,” Echo, strong, silent lead guitarist, glanced at Anya beside her who shrugged apathetically in return.
“So what does this mean?” Lexa spoke firmly. She sat up straighter in an attempt to convince herself she wasn’t nervous.
“I’m not sure,” Indra sighed. “The suits say they need to see ‘something’ from you,” Indra added on and raised her eyebrows at Lexa.
“From me?” Lexa asked carefully.
“From you,” Indra nodded.
“What kind of something?” Lexa swallowed hard.
“Something new. Something different. Something exciting,” Indra waved her hand in the air as she searched for the words. “Something that will make people look at you differently.”
“That sounds awful,” Anya scoffed.
“There’s a label party tonight on the roof for that DJ group, the Mountain Men?” Indra slid an invitation across the table to Lexa who bit her lip in disdain as she took it in. “I know you hate them. Hell, I hate them, but because they make so much friggin’ money in advertisement royalties since all their tracks are just begging to be perky cell phone commercials, we have to put up with their shit.”
“What about the rest of us?” Lincoln asked quietly. “Why only an invite for her?”
“Do the rest of you want to go?” Indra quirked a brow at them.
“Fuck no!” Echo laughed.
“Absolutely not,” Anya said quickly at the same time.
“I mean, not even kind of,” Lincoln clarified in unison with them. “But is it weird they don’t want all of us?”
“This is a punishment,” Lexa sighed and waved the invite at them. “I’m taking it for the team and they knew I would. I always do.”
“Well? Maybe you can find your ‘something’ at the party,” Indra tried. “Marketing is working over the weekend to figure out what to do. We’ll have something for you at the top of the week to shake things up. Enjoy your weekends,” Indra waved a hand in clear dismissal.
“I won’t,” Lexa grumbled as she gathered her things.
All four of the grounders were graduates of the Trikru College of Music, one of America’s most prestigious spots to study the craft. They met as freshmen, became fast friends, and had been making music together since. After being scouted and signed, the label guided their career into the mainstream by simplifying their styles and playing more to their looks than their skills.
Lincoln was an accomplished violinist and cellist with a degree in symphony performance. He could play pretty much anything with strings on it, and when they were playing warehouse shows in college and small clubs thereafter, he became their bassist. His grooves were as tight as his unrealistically statuesque physique.
Naturally charming and genuinely sweet, he instantly became the brother none of them had and protected his group of girls ferociously. He came to New York for school from the west coast with everything he owned after his parents told him that if he threw away all of his opportunities to study music rather than something practical, he couldn’t come home. Lexa, Anya and Echo became his new home in New York.
Echo never said much and let her music speak for her. She was an incredible guitarist, a native New Yorker, and she studied theory at Trikru. Their albums had a handful of solos on them that showed glimpses of what she was made of, but the label held her back. When she was on stage, however, she let it rip and the band had a loyal following that knew about it.
She had theory classes with Lincoln when they were freshmen, and when he and Lexa and Anya started putting a group together to gig around the city, she was an obvious choice.
“I’ll go with you to that thing,” Anya relented with a good natured, sarcastic huff.
“Oh, thank god,” Lexa exhaled with relief. “I didn’t want to ask.”
Anya played in elite drum corps from the second she was old enough to the day she aged out. She had incredibly quick and precise hands, a degree in percussion composition and performance, creative ideas and could do a lot with a limited kit. She satisfied her drum solo lust at live shows, but most of her work in the studio was beneath her. Smart, savvy, and oozing with rockstar energy at all times, most of the women she came in contact with ended up beneath her, too.
She grew up in a tough situation outside of Boston that she never talked about, worked every second of the day that she wasn’t in school or rehearsals, and clawed her way through college with financial aid, scholarships, and odd jobs. She was more open about it now that they were established and more mature, but the band was the only place she ever felt at home.
Lexa and Anya were roommates their freshman year and became instantly inseparable. Although she was the lead singer, lyricist, and rhythm guitarist for the band, Lexa’s roots grew from behind a piano. She was a classical pianist and a composing major and spent her life training on the keys. Guitars and leather jackets and heavy eyeliner paid the bills and kept them all together, but she never had dreams of it when she was young.
“Yeah, yeah. You do enough for us. I can take a hit, too,” Anya smiled and patted Lexa on the shoulder.
Lexa was their leader and always had been. She booked their shows when they were twenty and broke. She pushed them further with each rehearsal and she found their sound and really could bring the best out of each of them on and off the stage. The only one who came from a place she could go back to, she made sure to foster their new home together as best she could and keep a safe and loving space alive for the people that stood by her no matter what.
“I appreciate that,” Lexa’s stress melted into a real smile as the group headed out the door.
Across the hall in an identical conference room on the fifth floor of the Polis Records building in Manhattan, Clarke Griffin, pop folk artist and the label’s token Girl Next Door that was aging rapidly, sat in a similarly disappointing meeting riddled with plummeting metrics.
“The last album was pretty sleepy, Clarke,” Raven Reyes, chief audio engineer and Clarke’s good friend who worked closely with her on all three albums, winced as she admitted the truth.
“They heard it and they green lit it,” Clarke shrugged. “What am I supposed to do now?”
“There’s some discussion upstairs that it might be an image problem,” Marcus Kane, Clarke’s longtime manager, winced. He was a friend of her parents, had an eye on her since she was playing guitar and singing for change and on talent show stages when she was twelve, coached her to take herself seriously in her teens, and had been managing her successful career since.
“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me,” Clarke scoffed. “My image is a bunch of fake bullshit that they insisted on.”
“Look, I know,” Marcus said softly with gentle and defensive hands raised. “You’re getting a little bit older and this nice girl thing they’ve shoehorned you into is becoming a little outdated. It worked when you were twenty-four. Thirty-three? Not as much.”
“So I’m boring now?” Clarke asked, arms folded across her label-picked-out peasant top that she refused twice and it kept popping up into wardrobe rotation and she finally succumbed.
“A little bit,” Raven wrinkled her nose and tried to get a sympathetic smile out, but it got stuck halfway.
“This is fucking absurd. I told you I didn’t want to be some goody goody girl next door and that this wouldn’t age and it would bite me in the ass, but no! The execs know best!” Clarke threw her hands up and let them fall with a slap on the table. “I didn’t even want to make this last album! I wanted to actually grow and change and use my real talents to make something exciting with a little rock and some soul and they said no.”
“The soul thing you were trying to do didn’t really fit-”
“It didn’t fit my stupid, false image they created,” Clarke snapped and cut Marcus off. “I know.”
Clarke had more talent than she knew what to do with, but the label only let her make folk and pop folk tracks because of her looks, which she wasn’t allowed to change without their consent. She was fit, she was blonde, she had big blue eyes and a hometown in New England paired with a four octave range, a lifetime of training, impeccable stage presence, no fear, and clever lyrics.
She also had chronically sick parents that required constant medical attention that she was the sole provider for, so she let the label tell her who she needed to be in order to keep cashing the checks that paid for their care. As long as she kept her mouth shut and wrote the songs they wanted, her nice girl image was believable.
“Marketing is going to come up with a new plan for you by next week,” Marcus sighed after a heavy lull swept around the room. “But they feel like they need to see something from you.”
“What the hell does that even mean?” Clarke huffed. She thumbed at her bottled water and didn’t bother to keep her scowls and pissed off facial expressions in check.
“I don’t know for sure. They told me they’ll have more details soon after the team works on it. Your sales are down, your streams are down, your social metrics are down, so they need something new, something different, and exciting.”
“That’s suspiciously vague,” Clarke eyed him cautiously.
“Something that will make people look at you differently,” Marcus tried.
“Should I dye my hair black?” Clarke joked with the flavor of sass that reminded him too much of her teenage years.
“I wouldn’t,” Marcus shook his head softly. “They sent this. They said you have to show up and be seen tonight. Go through wardrobe on your way out. They have your attire,” he tacked on and slid the Mountain Men party invite across the table.
“These assholes?” Clarke gasped when she read the guest of honor. “Marcus.”
“I know,” he tried not to laugh at her frank attitude. “They’re insufferable, but they throw a great party and everyone’s going. You could afford to end up in a few photos giving the illusion that you’re having fun.”
“But not too much, right?” Clarke shot him a knowing wink alluding back to so many marketing conversations about her keeping her antics under control when she was in public. “We wouldn’t want anyone to think I had a personality or anything too racy like that.”
“Clarke,” Marcus sighed and rubbed the tension headache she’d been giving him for over twenty years from between his eyes. His hair was all gray now, his face held so many more wrinkles and smile lines, and his posture stopped much more than it used to, but everything between them always felt the same.
“Are you going?” Clarke turned to Raven.
“I have to. The production I did on their last album paid off my condo,” Raven replied with a knowing shrug.
“Try to have a nice weekend, alright?” Marcus pushed a smile through. “We’ll see what they have for you next week.”
“Oh, I can’t wait,” Clarke lied through a sarcastic grin as she shoved her paperwork and invite into her bag and yanked the conference room door open with force.
She came face to face with a disgruntled Lexa Woods in the hallway.
“If it isn’t Polis Records’ favorite Nice Girl!” Lexa joked in that playground taunting voice she was so good at.
“How was your meeting? Are you already done with another album using the same five chords?” Clarke snapped back.
“Oh, I leaned two more,” Lexa sarcastically wagged her eyebrows at Clarke. “You about to churn out another dozen tracks about your hometown? Where are you from again? Anywhere, USA? Population upper middle class white women?”
Clarke rolled her eyes, spun on her heel and tossed a middle finger over her shoulder as she stomped towards the elevator.
“See you on the roof later!” Lexa called after Clarke and waved her party invite over her head.
“Hopefully not!” Clarke called back just before the elevator doors closed between them.
“So nice,” Lexa joked to Anya beside her who snorted out a laugh.
The Grounders and Clarke Griffin had been running into one another in hallways and at events for years. Coincidentally, their practice spaces on the label’s studio floor were side by side. Outside of subtle, and in many cases not so subtle, barbs and childish insults, they never really said much to one another.
Neither of them could remember why they didn’t like each other, but every time they interacted, they fought about everything. Typically they only saw each other at label parties and industry events, so their bickering usually found its way in front of an audience. There wasn’t enough substance to it to call it a feud and no real fuel to call it a fight, but it was a well known fact that Clarke and Lexa couldn’t stand each other.
“After you finish up practice for the day, wardrobe has your clothes for tonight,” Indra gave Lexa a warning look. “Wear what they picked. No freestyling please.”
“Fine,” Lexa sighed in disdain as she trudged behind her bandmates to the elevator.
***
“Hey! You made it!” Raven shouted over the thundering beats when Clarke popped up beside her at the party that evening.
The roof of Polis Records was huge, flat, well lit, and a place to be seen. They threw parties all year long up there and transformed it every time with high budget decorations, bars, killer sound systems and lighting to be photographed in. The three-hundred-and-sixty degree view of New York City was both famous and incredible. Tonight, the lights of Manhattan all around them added to the party lights and wild decor the dance music begged for.
“Against my will, but mostly unscathed,” Clarke sighed through a face that said it all. Raven was alone at a high top table on the fringe of the crowd waiting for Clarke with two drinks.
“Cute dress!” Raven nodded down at Clarke’s white, flowy sundress.
“Not mine. Not my choice,” Clarke sighed as Raven handed her a vodka soda. “I had three choices and this was the best one.”
“At least the image they picked for you is cute and not complicated. It could be much worse,” Raven grimaced and nodded towards a group of famous house DJs on the label nearby with masks and costumes on.
“I suppose this sundress on a warm night in New York does beat all that spandex,” Clarke chuckled and almost let herself relax when her phone lit up.
“How are your folks?” Raven asked quietly with sympathetic urgency.
“Mom’s home from the hospital. She’s okay,” Clarke replied through a tight, forced, stressed, fake smile as she read the text messages coming in from her parents’ caregivers. “Dad’s probably headed back in any day now.”
“Shit, dude. I’m sorry,” Raven muttered.
“It’s okay,” Clarke lied. “They’re actually doing better than they have been. I’m hoping to get out to see them in a week or two. I’m disappointed with all this shit with my last record for all of the obvious reasons, but my first two albums paid for their care, and I was hoping this one would set them up for a while, but apparently it sucks!” Clarke huffed as she dug through her purse for a vape pen.
“Come on, Clarke. It doesn’t suck. It just wasn’t as good as the other two,” Raven tried.
“It kinda sucks,” Clarke replied through a wince.
“What is it they want from you again? Something new and exciting?” Raven called back to their meeting.
“Whatever the fuck ‘looking at me differerntly’ means,” Clarke scoffed. She didn’t find a cigarette or a vape, but a joint instead. “Who’s here? Are we being ourselves and openly smoking at this thing tonight or what?”
“Somehow I don’t think that’s the ‘something’ they’re looking for from you,” Raven cautioned.
At the bar not far behind them, Lexa and Anya grabbed their first round.
“I don’t know what the fuck it means, but apparently they’re trying to shake my image up by taking my black clothes away and putting me in white, which is dangerous,” Lexa shrugged with a glass of red wine in each hand and gestured to her white tube top the label sent her out in under a black leather jacket. “Thanks for coming with me by the way. I owe you one.”
“Don’t mention it. I love free booze and a room full of hot people,” Anya grinned and ran her eyes over the crowd. “I’ll tune out the music. Did anyone give you any more hints about what’s coming?”
“You know they’re always coming up with stupid stuff for me cause I’m the front woman and people think I’m sexy. I’m willing to do it for all of you three so we can keep the band going,” Lexa raised one of her glasses and clinked it against Anya’s.
“I wish they’d just let us make cool and real music and not this canned pop rock,” Anya agreed. “Nothing is sexier than the power of real, raw, rock music.”
“Maybe to you,” Lexa chuckled. “You’re a drummer. I play the piano and they make me play rhythm guitar because apparently it’s hotter.”
“As your best friend and not in a weird I-want-to-blur-the-lines way, but very much in a I-see-where-the-label-is-coming-from way, you are a very hot guitarist and front woman,” Anya offered up.
“Thank you. I know you are incapable of telling lies, so it always means a lot coming from you,” Lexa let a little laugh out.
“They let you do a few piano things on the second album,” Anya kept on as they wove through the crowd to find somewhere to relax out of the way.
“Yeah, and it sold!” Lexa laughed as she took a gulp from one of her glasses.
“Wine, huh?” Anya nodded down at Lexa’s hands.
“I have a lot of work to do this weekend and I don’t want to get too fucked up,” Lexa shrugged. “So if anyone offers me any drugs or hard liquor, make sure I say no.”
“Can do,” Anya nodded firmly. “Hey! There’s Raven!” Anya held a drink up and nodded Raven’s way.
“No! Don’t!” Lexa hissed. She knew instantly who was on the other side of the telltale blonde curls at the table.
Clarke turned around to see who Raven was smiling at and met eyes with Lexa. Her whole face dropped before twisting into a furious scowl.
“She’s with Clarke,” Lexa sighed as her shoulders drooped in disdain.
“Faaantastic,” Clarke bit her lip and shook her head as The Grounders girls approached.
“Get over it already, Clarke,” Raven brushed it off. “This is a stupid work party and they’re our work friends.”
“Maybe they’re your work friends,” Clarke side-eyed her. “They’re not my friends.”
“I’m one of the highest paid audio engineers in house,” Raven said through a cheeky grin. “Everybody putting out work is my friend. I get paid whether your albums sell or not.”
“Must be nice,” Clarke gave her a look.
“Reyes! What’s good?” Anya leaned in to kiss Raven’s cheek with the fluid charisma of a born rockstar.
“How’s it going?” Raven nodded politely at them both.
“Clarke! Insert cordial greeting that’s appropriately nice even though you hate us. I’m going to lean in and politely greet you in case someone is taking my picture right now! Do you consent?” Anya raised a brow at Clarke.
“I consent,” Clarke huffed out a laugh. “You get in trouble for sexual harassment again?”
“Just covering my ass,” Anya winked and gave Clarke a polite hug.
“I’m not gonna hug you,” Lexa smirked.
“Good,” Clarke bit back and turned to give Lexa an annoyed glare.
“What’s your problem?” Lexa scoffed through a laugh and straightened up her back as she set both glasses of wine on Raven and Clarke’s table.
“What’s yours?” Clarke mirrored Lexa’s body language. “You’re up my ass about something everytime I talk to you.”
“You’re a totally aggressive bitch every time I talk to you!” Lexa cocked her head at Clarke.
“Heads up!” A shout came quickly from the dancefloor behind them followed by a pair of stumbling young guys crashing into the high top tables from behind. Lexa’s pair of red wines found their way all over the front of Clarke’s white sundress.
Clarke took a slow breath in and let it out very carefully. Her stiff shoulders, gritted teeth and clenched fists absorbed most of her rage.
“Of fucking course,” Clarke rolled her jaw and tried to force out a fake smile. The flashes of multiple phones capturing her with a drink with a joint clenched between two of her fingers, wine all over her, and Lexa Woods beside her holding back laughter were blinding.
Years of training allowed Clarke to react as little as possible.
“Clarke! Oh my god!” Raven gasped with wide eyes and her hands over her mouth.
“So I’m gonna leave,” Clarke said frankly before sucking down the last of her drink and slamming it on the table. “But first? I’m gonna hug you,” she tacked on with a devious grin and pulled Lexa in for a tight hug. She pressed their chests together as hard as she could and imprinted her wine stains all over Lexa’s crisp white top.
“Hey!” Lexa yelped. “What the hell!”
“I’m gonna lean in and politely tell you to go fuck yourself,” Clarke said lowly through a sickly sweet fake grin as the flashbulbs continued to capture the moment unfolding between them.
“Go fuck myself?” Lexa’s grin was real this time and every photo caught it. “Why? Are you too scared to do it?”
Clarke glanced back at Lexa with a slightly impressed raised brow at the taunt. She gripped the lapel of Lexa’s leather jacket and brought her in close to make sure she could hear her over the loud music.
“Oh honey,” Clarke paused, let go of Lexa’s jacket, and gave her a patronizing pat on the shoulder. “You couldn’t handle it.”
“What?” Lexa spat out through a confused chuckle.
“What do you think, Raven? Are they looking at me differently now?” Clarke called over her shoulder to Raven. She and Anya were both trying to decide if they should get involved or take cover.
Lexa perked up at the turn of phrase, but couldn’t get any words out.
“Probably not what they meant!” Raven bit back a laugh at Clarke’s back as she tromped out of the party.
The subway ride to Clarke’s place from Polis Records was short.
She was thankful for New Yorkers’ patented ability to ignore one another as she worked to ignore the wine stains all over her dress until she got through her apartment door and peeled it off. She tossed it onto her kitchen table that barely sat two covered with her parents’ medical bills, pulled a beer from the fridge and sat down beside her ruined wardrobe and mounting debt to finally exhale.
Her apartment was small.
She’d been in the tiny studio for all of her life in New York. She had a little table she ate at and a cramped kitchen she hardly used that was in the same single room as her bed. She didn’t have a couch. She could barely turn around in her bathroom. Her collection of music and all of her guitars lived in her practice space in the Polis tower where they were safe.
Clarke didn’t own much and she didn’t need much to be happy, which was the lie she told herself because she couldn't remember the last time she actually was happy.
Finally alone in the stillness of her place with Hell’s Kitchen’s comforting sounds filtering in through the open window, she let the mounting tears of frustration and aggravation and stress and disappointment she’d been fighting all day come crashing through.
***
Lexa woke with a start and a mild hangover early the next morning to her phone ringing.
“What?” Lexa murmured.
“Dude, have you seen instagram yet?” It was Anya. It sounded like she was out somewhere and Lexa wondered if she’d gone to sleep yet.
“I just woke up,” Lexa croaked. She sat up slowly and winced as she rubbed her eyes.
Lexa lived in Brooklyn in a spacious one bedroom with natural light, hardwood floors and high ceilings. It wasn’t luxurious by any means. Most of her neighbors were couples with jobs in finance. Some had young kids. She minded her business and liked living away from the bustle of Manhattan even if it meant she had an hour-long commute to the studio.
She’d been there for years and had made the place her own. She had a neighbor who watered her plants when she was on tour, shelves of books and kept a high end electric keyboard at home and her Steinway at the label.
“Yo, go look right now,” Anya chuckled and Lexa could feel the accompanying smirk through the line.
“I don’t like your tone,” Lexa sighed and put the phone on speaker so she could see the screen.
“Looks like you may have accidentally walked backwards into ‘something that will make them look at you differently,’ buddy,” Anya laughed over the background noise of city traffic.
“Son of a bitch,” Lexa muttered as she scrolled through TMZ’s carousel of photos of her and Clarke covered in wine. The way the photos were caught and stitched together made it look like they were laughing and having a great time together.
“Woof, huh?” Anya asked.
“What do I do?” Lexa froze. She hated this part of it. She just wanted to make music with her friends and take care of them and go on tour and not worry about who she got her picture taken with.
“Fuckin’ media magic, man. Even I’m convinced you two are having fun in these,” Anya laughed and let it turn into a loud sigh. “And I know more than anyone about how much you can’t stand each other.”
“What the hell is this caption? They’re saying that we were there together? And that I spilled all over her?” Lexa squawked as she squinted at the screen. “That’s not even what happened!”
“Dude, you know they love to stir shit up,” Anya shrugged on the other end of the line.
“What the fuck!” Lexa shouted. As they spoke, a comment from Clarke popped up below the caption.
“What?” Anya asked.
“She just commented ‘@Lexawoods looks like you’re just as clumsy as your lyrics!’” Lexa gasped.
“Oh-ho-ho no she didn’t!” Anya burst out laughing. “Damn, that little cottagecore biddy’s got some balls.”
“I’m writing back,” Lexa huffed.
“Do not get in trouble, Lexa. They’re already pissed at us,” Anya warned.
“I’ll give them something to be pissed about,” Lexa grumbled as she typed back ‘Must’ve just tripped over one of your low blows.’
“Be cool, Lex. Don’t take it too far,” Anya tried again. “I know you two love to fight, but keep it off the internet.”
“It’s harmless,” Lexa sighed. “What are they gonna do?”
Over the East River and across the city, Clarke sat in her bed with a cup of coffee, a stack of bills for her parents’ care that were no longer ignorable, and her phone in her hand staring at the photos of her and Lexa popping up all over the place.
Sometimes she was able to comment a dig first, sometimes Lexa beat her to it.
She jumped when her phone rang in her hands and yanked her out of the trance of her social media blackhole.
“What are you doing?” Raven asked flatly before Clarke could even say hello.
“Hi, good morning, I’m fine, thanks. How are you?” Clarke said dryly.
“I”m at work right now and marketing and the C suite are all buzzing about you and Lexa on the internet,” Raven followed up quickly in a hushed voice.
“So?” Clarke huffed.
“I can’t tell if it’s good buzzing or bad buzzing,” Raven went on. “It’s weird in here.”
“Alright?” Clarke shrugged, then silently scowled at the total on the monthly invoice for her parents’ full time in-home nurses.
“Maybe dial it back just a tiny bit,” Raven cautioned in a hushed high pitched voice. “Not sure if you’re reading all the other comments?”
“I don’t do that,” Clarke spat out before taking a sip of her coffee.
“So it kind of looks like you two are flirting?” Raven’s wince was audible. “And the fans are eating it up. I’m not saying the execs are totally into it? But it doesn’t exactly sound like they’re not into it?”
Clarke’s phone chimed and she pulled back to look at the screen.
“I just got a meeting invite with Ali from brand management upstairs first thing Monday morning,” Clarke said slowly.
“Oh boy,” Raven muttered through gritted teeth. “She’s the TOP of brand management. She’s where all your image shit you hate comes down from. She creates all of the personas. She creates the fake worlds and the scenarios. She hands out the fake lives you all have. She creates the artists here. It all comes down from her.”
“Son of a bitch,” Clarke whined and dropped her head back on her pillows.
***
Monday morning came too quickly.
Clarke paced in the lobby of the executive floor waiting for her meeting. She seldom went up there. There were so many middle managers and errand runners and messengers from upstairs that dealt with smaller acts like hers on the label that she never had the need. She couldn't remember the last time she was on the executive floor and she forgot how much more white and spotless and glamorous and chic it was than the rest of the building.
Being called upstairs was either a really bad thing or a really good thing, and there wasn’t much in recent history to lead Clarke to believe she was in for any really good news.
Right around her fourth different anxiety spiral as she ran through the potential reasons she was on the executive floor and the corresponding fallout it would cause in her life, the elevator opened with its well known soft double ding.
Lexa was in the elevator by herself.
“Are you lost?” Clarke stood up straight and folded her arms over her chest.
“I have a meeting with Ali at ten,” Lexa shook her head and held back a nervous laugh.
“What? No you don’t,” Clarke furrowed her brow and leaned away from Lexa in confusion.
“Are you checking my schedule now?” Lexa huffed through a chuckle.
“I have a meeting with Ali at ten,” Clarke puzzled.
After a hefty beat of silence filled with studying one another for the lie or the prank of the cue this wasn’t real, they both pulled out their phones to double check in tandem.
“This has to be a mistake,” Lexa scratched her forehead as they compared their screens and confirmed that they were both scheduled for the same meeting with one of the most indemand executives on the label.
“I don’t think these people make mistakes,” Clarke whispered and glared at Lexa.
“There they are!” Ali exclaimed as she threw open the huge double doors to the executive suite with gusto. Her hair and makeup were pristine. She had a posture so rigid those who knew her joked she was a robot. Her shoulder pads were famously wide in the industry. Everything she said boomed like it was being delivered on a broadway stage. She walked and moved like she didn’t share the same gravity as the rest of the planet. “Instagram’s favorite little flirts!”
“What?!” Lexa and Clarke spat out together with matching horrified and confused faces.
“Come on, ladies! Let’s get started! We’re wasting time and time is money and wasting money is bad business!” Ali gave a flourish with one hand above her head as she spun and stalked back through the doors as dramatically as she’d entered.
Clarke and Lexa exchanged a panicked glance.
“Oh, after you,” Lexa broke the tension with a nervous grin and a gesture for Clarke to go first. Clarke met her with an annoyed look, but took the first steps anyway.
The executive conference rooms were so much nicer than those they were used to. Everything was plush and white with natural wood and looked brand new. The sounds and smells were different. Somehow softer and cleaner and more soothing. Even the doors opened and closed quieter. It was hard to believe they were in the same building they were so used to and spent so much time in.
“Everyone is waiting for you,” Ali said through a sly grin as she held open the door for the two of them.
A giant table was filled with over a dozen suits they didn’t recognize. Indra and Marcus were in the mix looking down at their hands and feeling small.
“What is this?” Clarke blurted out.
“This is an effort to resurrect your dying careers,” Ali said bluntly as she closed the door behind them and pointed at two empty chairs side by side. “You both know your numbers are down and your fanbases are dwindling and specific.”
“I-” Clarke tried.
“We-” Lexa began.
“Don’t interrupt,” Ali gave a stage wince and a condescending smile. Clarke and Lexa both shrank into their seats.
One of the reps from legal wordlessly slid two NDAs across the table at Clarke and Lexa and dropped pens with a loud clatter on top.
“We can’t begin until you both sign those Nondisclosures. Everything that happens in this meeting stays inside of this room. You both know well enough that crossing us would be a nightmare. If you want to keep your contracts, the solution comes after you agree to keep it a secret,” Ali nodded down at the paperwork in front of them.
Lexa reached for the pen right away, but Clarke hesitated. Slowly and apprehensively, Lexa turned to catch Clarke’s glance.
The moments of stubborn eye contact made the room stand still.
Clarke didn’t budge.
Lexa glanced away and scowled as she picked up the pen and signed hers.
“We're not getting any younger, Clarke!” Ali prompted impatiently. The toe of her designer heels tapped like a metronome gone rogue.
The weight of all of their stares became too much when Clarke caught Lexa’s eye again and Lexa offered up the saddest smile with a defeated one shoulder shrug and a gentle nod at the pen in front of Clarke.
“Fine,” Clarke huffed and scribbled her name, then slammed the pen down with attitude.
“Let’s begin! Branding and I have been trying to figure out what to do with you both individually for weeks now. Whether you meant to or not, you two gave us the push we needed to see that we shouldn’t deal with your metrics that are sucking out loud separately, and that there is actually a two ladies, one stone situation sitting right in front of us.”
Ali paused in her pacing at the head of the table in front of a blank screen on the wall.
Clarke and Lexa flicked sidelong glances at one another and it was almost a comfort to share the terrifying confusion.
Ali raised a hand above her head and snapped her fingers. A collage of the TMZ instagram photos from the rooftop party popped up on the screen behind her. Clarke bit her lip and dipped her head.
“I doubt you realized it at the time because you’re impulsive and messy, but this little wine spill and bitchy retaliation hug was pure genius, Clarke,” Ali said firmly. Clarke whipped her head up.
“What?” Clarke couldn’t stop herself from blurting out. Lexa stiffened up beside her.
“Following it up with these incredibly witty insults?” Ali paused as all of the comment exchanges between Clarke and Lexa from the weekend popped up one by one with the trademark notification sound on the screen. “I didn’t know you two had it in you.”
“Had what in us?” Lexa spoke up.
“Such incredible chemistry,” Ali replied through a smirk that unfolded over multiple agonizing seconds and spread quickly around the room to the other execs.
“Do you want us to collaborate?” Lexa furrowed her brow. “Our styles don’t really make sense together.”
“Oh, they really don’t, which is perfect, because every young, hopeful romantic with a disposable income wants to believe that hot opposites really do attract out there in this horrible world,” Ali snapped her fingers again and the most incriminating photo of all with both of them smiling in close, Clarke’s hand gripping Lexa’s collar and Lexa’s hand instinctively reaching for Clarke’s hip popped up.
“Romantic?” Clarke spat out. She looked across the table at Marcus and Indra who had hung heads and stooped shoulders.
“Here’s what we’re going to do,” Ali clapped her hands and the screen changed to read ‘Summer of Clexa.’ Clarke gasped. Lexa let out a gulp that sounded louder than a symbol crash in the tense room. “We’ve put together everything for you two for the next ninety days. You’re going to pretend you’re a couple, have secretly been in love and have been keeping it a secret from the public for a while, and all of the nonsense, childish fighting between you on the internet has been an over the top effort to keep your romance private.”
“Oh my god,” Clarke whispered with a hand over her mouth.
“Roughly sixty days from now, you will release a collaborative track that is very sexy, complete with two weeks of scheduled performances, also very sexy, to get you both back in the public’s eye,” Ali began firmly.
Lexa felt like everyone in the room could hear her sweating.
“Shake up your images, song of the summer, we’ve already spoken with our people at TikTok. We’ll get everyone excited about you both, get you doing opening acts on stages in LA and New York and Chicago together, all the right TV spots, yada yada. All the kids go crazy, they love it, they eat it up!”
Ali grinned wider as Clarke and Lexa’s eyes opened wider at each new slide.
‘“Both of your obsessive fan bases buy all of your new boo’s old stuff too because they’re obsessed with your relationship now, which they will be, because I will be the head of your social media team and it’s going to be a perfectly calculated, curated work of art, then bing bang boom! You two are wildly popular again!” Ali slapped her hands down on the conference table for emphasis while sending an aggressive glare that was supposed to be motivational but missed the mark and landed smack in the heart of intimidation at Clarke and Lexa.
Everyone around the table flinched at the same time.
“A month later, we stage a nasty break up, you two get to go back to your normal lives, and riding the new wave of your popularity being the it couple for the summer with all of your new loyal fans, you can bounce back with your respective break up albums,” Ali rattled off quickly as the plans kept up with her on the screen.
“That’s insane,” Clarke spat out.
“That’s showbiz, baby,” Ali bit right back.
“And if we say no?” Lexa perked up. “If we don’t want to do this?”
“Then you’re both off the label and we’re done with your dismal shit,” Ali shrugged. “Your contracts for your latest albums are up next month. This is the way to get another one.”
“The only way?” Lexa asked. Her voice was small.
“The only way,” Ali repeated with a telling nod. The rest of the suits around her nodded along. “You have until 5pm today to decide. Legal is downstairs briefing Raven who will be the engineer on your tracks, and the band who will clearly have to be in the loop, right now.”
“Do we get any say in the fake relationship?” Clarke asked.
“About as much say as you get in your images now,” Ali replied.
“So, none?” Clarke sighed.
“Unless you have any productive questions, the clock is ticking on your decision making,” Ali grinned at Clarke. “Meeting adjourned, lovebirds. We’ll see you both by five,” Ali winked at the two of them and slapped her hands on the table again. Everyone got up right away.
“I think I’m gonna be sick,” Clarke muttered under her breath.
“I’ll hold your hair if you hold mine,” Lexa grumbled with her. Clarke just glared at her and stormed off.
“Clarke, wait!” Lexa chased after her. Marcus and Indra got whisked away for follow ups and the two of them were the only people getting on the elevator. Every footstep and uncertain waiver in their voices echoed miserably in the executive lobby.
“What!” Clarke snapped.
“I don’t know!” Lexa huffed. “Do you think we should talk?”
“There’s nothing to talk about,” Clarke snapped back.
“There’s A LOT to talk about!” Lexa planted her hands on her hips.
“I don’t want to talk about it!” Clarke clenched her teeth and fought the frustrated tears pricking at the back of her eyes. “I need a fucking second!”
“Alright,” Lexa backed off and held her hands up. She didn’t say anything else.
The elevator eventually arrived. They both solemnly stepped in. Clarke hit the button for the floor of their practice rooms and leaned into the wall. Lexa folded her arms over her chest and leaned into the opposite wall as they descended down the Polis tower in uncomfortable silence staring at the floor.
Anya, Echo and Lincoln were in the hallway when the doors opened revealing Clarke and Lexa vehemently scowling and trying to get as far away from each other in the tiny cage of the elevator as possible.
Clarke didn’t say anything as she walked between all of them to her practice space and slammed the door behind her. The rest of them turned their heads in unison to Lexa who let out a big sigh.
A couple of sobs found their way past Clarke’s door in the uncomfortable silence.
“She said she needed a minute,” Lexa said flatly with a listless shrug.
“Dude,” Anya began. She rolled her jaw and set her shoulders firmly.
“I know,” Lexa exhaled slowly.
“What the fuck?” Anya kept on.
“I know,” Lexa repeated and walked past them into their practice space. They all followed and shut the door.
“Are you okay?” Lincoln asked through a wince.
“Not even kind of,” Lexa let a shaky sigh escape as she dropped onto the ratty old couch they had against one wall. The room was packed with instruments and gear and sentimental moments from their pasts on the walls. Posters from their favorite shows and promo material for past albums acted like wallpaper. Lexa’s piano and Anya’s drums took up a lot of space on the floor. The walls were lined with racks of all of their guitars and instruments. “They said they filled you guys in?”
“They did. This is some next level shit,” Anya huffed as she flopped onto the stool behind her kit. She anxiously tapped her fingers on one of her cymbals and the familiar little rattle was almost soothing.
“I mean, I get it,” Lexa tried. She leaned her head back and covered her eyes with her hands. “Kind of anyway. I forget sometimes that we’re not real people to them. Or anyone, really.”
“I hate to be the one to ask this, but,” Echo began hesitantly. The threeway apprehensive looks between Echo, Lincoln and Anya fell in the center of the group with hefty weight.
“Look,” Lexa sat back up and rested her elbows on her knees and finally let her spine relax for the first time that day. “I’ll do anything for you guys and for this band and you know that.”
“But, Lex,” Anya warned.
“It’s only three months,” Lexa said quickly, not sure if she was convincing them or herself. “They have to believe in us having a good career after this stunt if that many high level people put this much time into this, so I think we should do it.”
“You don’t think this is a cash grab at your expense?” Anya raised a brow.
“Oh, it definitely is that, but I think it’s both,” Lexa almost chuckled.
“It’s going to be awful,” Anya grimaced.
“SO awful,” Lexa agreed with wide eyes.
“Do you really think you can do it?” Lincoln asked with a sympathetic smile trying to break its way through the stressed out wince trapped on his face.
“It sounds like they’re going to tell me exactly what to do every step of the way. That meeting was terrifying,” Lexa let another big breath out. “Clarke was sassing Ali.”
“Really?” Anya perked up. “Damn.”
“What?” Lexa cocked her head at her.
“I don’t know,” Anya shrugged one shoulder. “Maybe she’s a little more rock and roll than we thought.”
“Whatever you need, Lex. We’re here for you in this thing,” Lincoln said. His reassuring smile finally broke through.
“Thanks. I’m gonna give her a minute, but I have to go talk to her,” Lexa groaned through a stretch. “It only works if she says yes, too.”
On the other side of the wall, Clarke was curled up in a chair with her head dropped against the back as she tried to get the tears to stop flowing. She sat and sobbed for a good twenty minutes.
She was so angry, so stressed out, so aggravated, so upset.
Several texts from her parents’ caregivers lit up letting her know about new treatments. New medications. New plans.
New bills.
A gentle knock on the door startled her out of her spiral.
“It’s open,” Clarke cleared her throat and hurried to wipe her eyes. It was useless. Her running mascara sold her out.
“Hey,” Lexa opened the door cautiously and stuck her head in.
“What do you want?” Clarke muttered.
“I know you don’t want to, but we need to talk,” Lexa said, softer this time.
Clarke bit back a handful of snarky comments.
“Come in,” Clarke relented and pointed at a second chair beside her. Lexa gently and carefully entered Clarke’s space. She’d practiced beside her for years and years, they shared a wall, but she’d never seen the inside.
There were guitars all over the walls. Clarke had piles and piles of papers and books and records and CDs all over the small space. Two comfy chairs sat huddled together against the wall, one with Clarke curled up in it with her knees to her chest.
“Are you okay?” Lexa asked as she gingerly took up the other chair. Clarke was still crying and decided to stop hiding it.
“Are you?” Clarke gave her an incredulous look.
“Not at all,” Lexa replied quickly. “Especially since this decision on my end affects three more people who have nothing to do with it.”
“How’d they take it?” Clarke asked honestly.
“They’re being supportive either way,” Lexa sighed.
“Sounds nice,” Clarke sighed back.
“Look,” Lexa paused. She folded her hands together and focused her eyes down on her fingers sliding between each other anxiously and away from Clarke’s tear stained cheeks and puffy, glassy blue eyes. “Clarke,” she tried to start again, but couldn’t get the words out.
Clarke sat beside her with her chin on her knees staring at the floor and begging the tears welling up to just stop already.
“This really, really sucks,” Lexa finally got out. Her voice got stuck on the nervous lump in her throat. “It’s not what either of us want at all, but it will get both of us to what we really do want, which is another contract for another album.”
“I wasn’t flirting with you at all,” Clarke said firmly. “I was being a bitch for real.”
“Trust me,” Lexa cracked an earnest smile. “I know.”
Clarke huffed out a single little laugh that made her welling eyes spill over.
“I’m trying to see it as a compliment to us both that they would even bother with all of this,” Lexa offered up carefully.
“I thought of that,” Clarke mumbled and wiped her eyes on the hem of her white t shirt and left trails of makeup on it. “If they didn’t want us or see the potential in all of this they would’ve just fired us rather than tie up valuable, high level marketing resources for this friggin’ charade.”
“Exactly,” Lexa caught herself smiling again.
“We’re gonna have to do it, aren’t we?” Clarke dragged her gaze up to meet Lexa’s. She was surprised to be almost comforted by Lexa’s promising smile.
“I think we should,” Lexa shrugged. There was a whiff of optimism in her voice.
“I suppose we’re in one of those ‘nothing left to lose’ situations,” Clarke scowled. “Other than our damn minds.”
“Do you still have one left?” Lexa raised a brow.
“I assure you, it’s dwindling,” Clarke muttered.
“It’s only three months, right?” Lexa said hopefully.
“Ninety days of agony?” Clarke attempted to match Lexa’s outlook.
“That’s gonna be the title of our next album after I fake break up with you,” Lexa gently lobbed the joke into the space between them hoping they were ready for it.
“I’m annoyed that that’s so funny,” Clarke said flatly. She was too distraught to let herself laugh. “I didn’t know you were funny.”
“Oh, I’m very funny,” Lexa held her hands up in mock defense. “And I’m smart, and I’m talented, and I’m cute, and it’s all over the tabloids that I’m great in bed, so if they have you break it off, not sure what it’s gonna do to your career. You’ll look like a fool for leaving me,” Lexa kept the joke up.
“Setting me up with you is the most daring thing they’ve let me do with my boring fake life they gave me,” Clarke grumbled as she rubbed her forehead in hopes to ease some of the headache taking up permanent residency. “I’m actually starting to think this might really work out for me. I can rebound as my actual self when I dump your ass.”
“So you’re not as sweet and nice as they make you out to be?” Lexa asked with a conspiratorial grin that left the arena of taunting and teetered into something almost friendly.
“Not even kind of. I’m just a natural blonde, I’m hot, and I’m from Connecticut, so this is what they picked for me when I was twenty-four,” Clarke scoffed. “If the public thinks we’re fucking, maybe I can finally be myself.”
“I’ve been dying to get back behind a piano, so after you leave me for someone else, I can finally write all the melancholy ballads I have trapped inside,” Lexa held a hand to her chest and pretended to weep.
“I may be a total bitch, but I don’t have poor form. I don’t cheat,” Clarke held up a stern pointer finger. “Even if it’s fake.”
“Maybe now you do,” Lexa shrugged. “It’s not really up to you.”
“This is so fucked up,” Clarke whined and covered her face with her hands as more stress tears built up.
“It really, really is, but I’m in if you are,” Lexa said more sincerely. Clarke blinked a few more frustrated tears back. “Take your time, but I’ll be upstairs at five to accept,” Lexa tacked on before slowly getting out of her chair. “Hopefully I’ll see you there.”
Clarke didn’t say anything else as Lexa crossed the room and opened the door. Lexa paused briefly before closing it to give Clarke a chance to say something, but nothing came.
Lexa took a few steadying breaths on her own before opening her practice room door.
“So?” The band all sat up straight when Lexa appeared in the doorway alone.
“We’ll find out at five,” Lexa said diplomatically. “We’ve got that show coming up next week, so let’s get to work.”
The day felt like a week.
The Grounders’ practice was an unfocused mess. Lexa missed most of her cues. She couldn’t remember lyrics that she wrote herself and had performed hundreds of times. After a few hours of trying, Anya called it and sent Echo and Lincoln home.
“Come on,” Anya said with an encouraging clap on Lexa’s shoulder. “Let’s get some air.”
“I’m sorry,” Lexa scowled and rubbed her hands over her face to shake off the stress.
It didn’t work.
“It’s alright,” Anya held the door open and nodded for Lexa to go first.
They silently made their way through the halls to the balcony on the practice floor. A sign posted by the door declared that photography was banned on the balcony and could result in legal action if violated. Artists went out there to smoke and unwind, and some of them weren’t supposed to be caught smoking because it didn’t align with their images.
Clarke had one of the images in question, and she was at one end of the patio with a cigarette in one hand and a vape pen in the other, whispering frantically to Raven and looking like hell from all of the crying. Lexa panicked and took a step towards Clarke, but Anya gently gripped her by the forearm and pulled her in the other direction.
“Not yet,” Anya said around a cigarette and brought Lexa to the other end of the patio. “Look, Lex. I know this is a new atomic bomb of info, and I know you really want us all to get another album contract, but are you going to be able to do this and focus and make music and all that? We have a show next week! We have gigs and appearances all summer! This is going to be a huge time commitment and it’s going to eat your focus alive if you let it.”
“I know,” Lexa huffed and tried to relax her shoulders. “It might take a second, but as long as I can stay in the headspace that it’s just work, I think I’ll be fine. It’s work, it’s fake, it’s just tasks to get done. I’m just shaken up still. I’ll be okay soon.”
“Don’t shut me out of this thing, alright?” Anya warned as she lit her smoke.
“I still don’t know if she’s going to agree to do it,” Lexa huffed and took hold of the railing to stretch her stiff back and shoulders. The late spring sunshine felt warm on her skin. “The waiting and the uncertainty is what’s really killing me.”
“Looks like the wait might be over, Buddy,” Anya nodded her head up over Lexa’s shoulder.
Clarke approached with purpose and Raven hurried behind her.
“Lexa?” Clarke tapped her on the shoulder.
“Yes?” Lexa turned slowly to face her.
“I have a few conditions,” Clarke took one more drag of her cigarette, then squished it out in a nearby ashtray. Lexa raised her brows for Clarke to continue. “You have the whole band to support you and I’m a solo artist and I don’t think that’s very fair, so I get Raven around a lot to advocate for me since she’s producing our tracks and is in the loop.”
“Nice,” Anya sent Raven a flirty wink.
“Shit, are you two sleeping together again?” Clarke flicked irked eyes back and forth between Anya and Raven, then took another anxious hit from her pen.
“What do you mean ‘again?’” Anya asked smugly.
“Only sometimes,” Raven shrugged and reached for Anya’s cigarette. “It’s not a thing and it won’t be a problem.”
“For fuck’s sake,” Clarke huffed.
“Raven’s in your corner, got it,” Lexa waved a hand to get the two of them to stop. “What else?”
“After we fake split, we leave each other alone. Unless they absolutely make us, no dragging each other, none of our shitty, petty fighting we do now. When we’re done, let’s be totally done,” Clarke replied with intention.
“I can do that,” Lexa agreed with an impressed nod. “Can you?”
“I think it would be good business,” Clarke exhaled slowly. “If that’s out of our hands, then that’s that on that, but I think we should fight for that if they have other plans.”
“I agree. Anything else?” Lexa encouraged Clarke to go on.
“If you accidentally fall in love with me for real, don’t tell me,” Clarke straightened up with her hands on her hips.
“Who’s to say you’re not going to accidentally fall in love with me?” Lexa stood up taller and took an intimidating step towards Clarke to mirror her stance. “I’m secretly sweet and thoughtful and charming as hell.”
“I’m secretly slutty and interesting and absolutely fucking nuts,” Clarke raised a pressing brow.
“Ooo, suburban sugar, good girl spice, and everything nice?” Lexa taunted with a confident grin.
“The stuff that unrequited love songs by PG13 rockstars are made of,” Clarke taunted back. “I know your type too well. Don’t fall in love with me. If you do? You can’t tell me about it.”
“I find your terms acceptable,” Lexa tried not to laugh.
Clarke held her hand out to shake. Lexa’s eyes dropped down and just stared at it for a moment. After a few beats,she gripped Clarke’s hand in a sturdy shake. Clarke pulled out her phone and dialed.
“Marcus? It’s me,” Clarke snapped. “Call Ali. We’re on our way up,” she tacked on and hung up as she stalked off to the door. “You coming?” she tossed a tired look over her shoulder at Lexa.
“They told us they’d see us at five!” Lexa protested.
“She said we had until five to decide,” Clarke barked back. “We decided. Have you forgotten that I’m impulsive and messy? Let’s go.”
Lexa looked to Raven and Anya for help. They both had nothing.
“Might as well get it over with,” Anya chuckled with a reluctant shrug.
They stood silently in the elevator pressed into their respective sides the same way they came down the elevator hours earlier. Lexa stared at the ceiling. Clarke thumbed the makeup stains on her shirt. Eventually, the doors opened to reveal Ali grinning maniacally in the lobby.
“I heard you were on your way up!” Ali boomed. “I decided to come meet you myself! Follow me to your exciting new futures!” Ali floated down the hall back to the conference room where it all began. Clarke and Lexa trudged along behind her.
The legal jargon was deafening. The signing away of their real lives went on for over an hour. Clarke looked like she might start crying again at any moment and Lexa looked like she might throw up the whole time.
When the last signature on the last form was dated and final, Ali clapped her hands together.
“You’re both dismissed! I suggest you go enjoy your last night as single women for a while!” Ali presented one of her sinister grins before waving them out the door.
The elevator ride back down felt somehow less awkward. There was a strange comfort in the quiet of their mutual misery. Neither of them said anything as they unlocked their practice room doors side by side to get their things. They walked in tandem silence to the front door.
The routine walk to the subway felt heavy.
Lexa turned left to head to her platform and Clarke turned right. They both paused after the first few steps away in opposite directions. They both stopped and turned back around.
“Well?” Lexa tried a tiny dose of optimism. “See you tomorrow?”
“And for the next eighty-nine days after that,” Clarke replied hesitantly. She offered up an uncomfortable closed lipped smile before turning back around to head to her train. Lexa watched her go until Clarke was out of sight with all new levels of stress swirling in her stomach.
Clarke and Lexa finally get to express themselves fully and make sure the other is all good with the new places their relationship has taken them, Clarke and Raven compare notes on the intricacies of being with hyper focused olympians, and Lexa and Anya have a heavy talk.
Still cute, still going to get angsty later.
Get caught up with Slopes Nine, or start from the beginning if you want.
Here are the themes that won for the upcoming Clexaweek23! If you would like to participate, just create something (write a fic, draw some art, make a moodboard, a video edit, you name it!) that somehow involves that particular theme. Whether you create or not, please participate by supporting each other! :) Reblog posts instead of just liking, and leave nice comments on content!
Day 1: Monday, February 27th - Childhood Friends
Clarke and Lexa were friends as children! Example: maybe Clarke and Lexa have been glued at the hip since they were five years old. They went to school together, then college, and now they have an apartment together. They don’t really understand why everyone assumes they’re dating; or why they seem to get so jealous when the other person IS dating. Maybe Clexa were best friends in elementary school, until Lexa moved away. Now they’re in their thirties, Clarke is a divorced single mother, and she’s shocked when she realized that her kid’s teacher is none other than her childhood best friend. Maybe Lexa had a very difficult childhood and Clarke was the first friend she ever made, until Lexa was forced to move away; years later, they meet again in a support group, both having lost their partners. Maybe they were best friends until a falling out in middle school; awkward moment when they realize they’re roommates!
Day 2: Tuesday, February 28th - Secret Relationship
Lexa and Clarke in a secret relationship with each other. Examples: Are Clexa rivals in public but besotted behind closed doors? Is Clarke secretly dating her best friend’s sister which is totally off-limits? Is Lexa hiding the fact that she’s been dating her ex’s ex? Is Clarke secretly dating her best friend’s worst enemy?
Day 3: Wednesday, March 1st - Fake Dating
The opposite of day 2! Clarke and Lexa are pretending to date. Examples: Maybe Lexa desperately needs a date to bring home for the holidays to get her mom off her back, so who better to ask than the cute girl she keeps running into at her favorite coffee shop? Maybe Clarke needs some temporary arm-candy to make an ex jealous! Maybe Clarke is trying to impress a boss who seems to only want to hang outside of work with a couples’ date, so she convinces Lexa to pretend to be her girlfriend and come out to dinner with her unbearable boss because she REALLY needs that promotion!
Day 4: Thursday, March 2nd - Accidents Happen!
I put together Accidental Kiss and Accidental marriage/relationship since they’re so close together. Bottom line is Clexa accidentally do SOMETHING. Maybe they’re rivals on the same sports team and are so swept up in the euphoria of their win that they kiss right there on the field! Or maybe they’re strangers who wake up in Vegas and are horrified to realize they’re married. Maybe Lexa’s wife left her at the alter because she claims Lexa will never love her as much as she loves someone else. A devastated Lexa has no idea what she means, but she already paid for the honeymoon so why not take her best friend Clarke with her? Except oops, in the morning they wake up hungover and naked and the ring Lexa had bought Costia is on Clarke’s finger. Maybe Clexa are just fuck buddies, friends with benefits - except one day they realize oops, it’s been ten months and I have my own drawer space at your place and my own toothbrush and shit are we dating, are we living together??
Day 5: Friday, March 3rd - Friends or foes?
Both Enemies to Lovers and Friends to Lovers tied, so what does that mean? We do both! You can choose to use one of these, or do both! Examples: Maybe Lexa HATES her neighbor Clarke, who always seems to wake her up in the middle of the night because she apparently can’t paint without listening to music. Maybe Clarke is Lexa’s best friend Clarke HATES her neighbor that always seems to throw rowdy parties, and she lets her know that (and later, makes the horrifying discovery that this woman, Lexa, is not even the actual neighbor; it’s Lexa’s sister, Anya). Maybe Clarke and Lexa are work friends until Lexa’s given a promotion that Clarke deserved, and now she hates her. Maybe they’re allies in a war until Lexa takes a deal and leaves Clarke to dry. Maybe Lexa hates Clarke, who broke her best friend’s heart - except then she realize Clarke is actually super nice and they’re friends now and maaaaybe Lexa looks at her lips too much.
Day 6: Saturday, March 4th - Workplace Romance
Clexa at work! Examples: Are they rival farmers? Are they firefighters who can’t keep their cool around each other? Do they both contribute at the local farmer’s market and their stalls are right next to each other but they’re both too useless to actually make a move? Does Clarke get hired to paint a mural in Lexa’s cafe? Is Clarke an ER doctor and Lexa the cute EMT that picks terrible times to flirt with her? Are they coworkers at some company kept vague bc all we’re focusing on is the opportunities that await us once all the items have been swept off the desk?
Day 7: Sunday, March 5th - Free Day
For free day, you can do anything you want. You can choose a theme that didn’t win. You can even use it as an Update Your WIP day!
—
Here are the guidelines for participating.
I posted this on November 11th; we have exactly 3 months and 17 days until Clexaweek23! :)
This poll will remain open for one week. It closes on November 10th. Winning themes will be announced on November 11th. Clexaweek23 will take place from February 27th to March 5th of 2023.
Lexa competes in her halfpipe qualifing contest while everyone watches from home, Clarke and her mother celebrate the holidays unconventionally, Clarke and Lexa spend Christmas together and everything moves full speed ahead to your favorite 'friends' ringing in the new year at the Trikru New Year's Eve Gold Party.
Still cute, still gonna get angsty later.
This one is friggin' long, about 19k, probably should've been two, but I couldn't figure out where to break it up, so enjoy your super-sized Slopes update! Get caught up with what happened in Slopes Eight, or Start From The Beginning if you want!
“Come on! We’ve got their final runs comin’ up soon! Someone get Clarke’s mom a goddamn Trikru hoodie or something! One of you has to be sporting double logos! Someone give me a hat!” One of the senior riders cried out. She stood on the bar at the downtown dive and pointed at Abby and Clarke sitting at the bar together below her. “We need logos on everyone! Let’s fuckin’ go!”
“That’s really not necessary,” Abby laughed and protected her beer from getting kicked over by the overzealous Trikru riders stomping on the bartop.
“Yes it is, Mama Ski Patrol!” another rowdy, drunk teammate cried from above them. “It’s bad luck if you don’t wear the logo when watching comps and this one is almost over!”
The promodel party quickly became a celebration of Lexa’s good news and Lexa was reluctantly swept away from Clarke’s side. A little part of Clarke was thankful that the crowd took up most of Lexa’s attention so she wouldn’t have to answer any clarifiers about her confession. Watching Lexa’s blissful smiles as she reiterated in every conversation that she was getting back on her board in the morning was too fantastic, and Clarke appreciated the distance between them.
It allowed her to exhale and calm down.
Lexa spent the rest of the week training and recovering and resting under strict watch from her staff. Her coaches and medical team were firm around her being in bed early every night and not deviating in any way from their instructions so she’d be in the best shape possible for the halfpipe event. So relieved that she could keep riding, Lexa was all in.
It did, however, cut way into her Clarke time, and she did her best to act like that was totally fine.
With the holidays around the corner and college breaks in full swing, Clarke was working overtime again. They barely saw one another aside from a good luck hug Lexa stopped by the slopes for on her way to the airport to head west for the halfpipe qualifiers. Clarke was so busy that she was on her skis in full rescue gear for the quick goodbye.
They were both disappointed.
Abby found a break in her schedule that lined up with Clarke’s day off a few days before Christmas. They planned an overnight stay for Abby with some skiing, catching up, and an excellent opportunity to meet almost all of Clarke’s new friends.
Clarke and Abby’s mother-daughter holiday overnight just so happened to be the same night as the halfpipe qualifiers, and Abby was a really good sport about watching it at the bar with the team. The Griffins caught up with Raven and exchanged stories over bar snacks and draft beer early in the evening before the halfpipe event started heating up.
Abby was instantly inaugurated as part of the crew, and now they needed her in team logos.
“I got it!” Clarke held her hands up and stood up off of her stool. She had Lexa’s team sweatshirt on which had become such a common occurrence that no one said a word about it when she donned it around town anymore.
“Clarke, NO! You especially need logos on!” One of the teammates cried out.
“I have logos on!” Clarke cried out and pulled the sweatshirt up over her head to reveal Lexa’s matching team t-shirt underneath. Raven and the crew around them all dogged on her about it, but Clarke kept a good natured smile on. “I know, I know,” Clarke playfully rolled her eyes.
“Heyo!” A rider on the bar got everyone cheering and Clarke gave up a shy shrug. “Always prepared, Ski Patrol!”
“Here you go, Mom,” Clarke handed her mom the sweatshirt and Abby quickly shrugged into it.
“Turn it up! There’s Anya again!” One of them cried from the back. All of the bar TVs had the Dew Tour on full display.
“Next up for her third and final run of the evening, currently sitting in first place, thirty-two years old, Anya Bridges from Polis, Maine,” the announcer spoke over footage of Anya getting ready to drop in.
“She looks tired,” Raven chewed her lip nervously beside Clarke.
“Nah, she’s got plenty of gas in the tank,” a seasoned Trikru rider waved a hand behind them.
“After two beautiful, very technical runs, Anya is sitting in first by just three tenths of a point ahead of her long time sponsored Trikru teammate, Team USA teammate, and roommate, Lexa Woods. These two have been showcasing an incredible battle of skills tonight, and third place behind them is over three full points behind. Unless Bridges does something catastrophic in the next few minutes, pretty safe to say she’s taking one of the two top spots on the podium,” a second announcer chimed in.
“Halfpipe podiums are Anya’s specialty. She’s got more high level first place halfpipe awards than any other professional woman in the game right now. Depending on how you want to do the math, she can be touted as the best woman in the world in the sport for this event. Here she goes!” the first announcer cried.
It was impossible to hear the announcers calling the tricks over the ruckus in the bar of all of the pro riders shouting them out with gusto in real time. Clarke clenched her teeth and leaned into her mother beside her as the run carried on.
“She’s got it!” the team rider standing on the bar balled her fists up in anticipation.
“Look at that! A muted, backside 1080 at the bottom of the pipe!” The announcer on TV cried out. Everyone in the bar held their breath as Anya brought it around. “Oh, NO!”
Anya stumbled and dragged a hand in the snow on the landing before righting herself. A unison gasp ripped through the bar.
“A slight wobble on the landing, out of character for Bridges, but the rest of the run was clean, so she may put up enough to keep her first place spot. Let’s see,” the TV announcer spoke over Anya on the screen unstrapping her board and looking up to see her scores. She didn’t pull her goggles back and she didn’t celebrate.
“Okay! There we go!” One of the announcers shouted. Anya’s whole body visibly relaxed as it was revealed that she still had the lead over Lexa. “She’s holding that first place spot and has the lead on Woods by one tenth of a point!”
“Oh Sweet Jesus,” a teammate on the bar had a hand on her head. She turned and looked down at the crew below her. “You guys, Lexa might win this thing.”
“Oh, shit!” One of them gasped.
“No fucking way!” Another chimed in.
“Isn’t that the idea?” Abby leaned closer to Clarke to ask quietly.
“Anya always wins halfpipe and Lexa always comes in second,” Clarke replied lowly. “Lexa has never beaten her. It’s kind of a big deal between them.”
“Gotcha,” Abby whispered with a perceptive nod. Raven’s distressed eyes and stooped shoulders filled in the rest of the blanks.
“This could be it, kids! Lexa might finally do it!” one of the senior teammates raised her beer up.
“You good?” Clarke discretely side eyed Raven.
“Nope,” Raven took a gulp of beer. “You good?”
“Nope,” Clarke exhaled sharply. Abby smirked silently at them.
“Last to go to see if she can take that first place standing away from Bridges, currently in second by just a hair, thirty-two years old, also hailing from Polis, Maine, Lexa Woods!” The announcer moved on to footage of Lexa at the top of the halfpipe.
“You can see in that shot there, she has written on her board ‘cleared to ride, cleared to win.’ Lexa had a scare with an old ACL injury a few weeks ago at the Grand Prix, but she’s riding today like that knee’s more than fine! We haven’t seen this type of explosive and expressive riding from Lexa since she was very young, but she’s got the finesse of experience tonight rounding it out for some really nice, really big tricks that few other women in the game are capable of,” The second announcer jumped in. Clarke’s eyes widened and she took a huge swig of her beer when she saw her own words of encouragement scrawled across Lexa’s snowboard near her bindings.
“That’s cute!” One of the teammates joked.
“I said that to her,” Clarke muttered to Raven and rubbed a hand over her eyes to calm down.
“When?” Raven kept her eyes glued to the TV.
“At the promodel party right after she found out she was cleared to ride in this,” Clarke slowly took a deep breath in.
“Lexa finished in South Korea with a halfpipe bronze, and since then she’s always been within tenths of a point of Bridges. They train together, they live together, and they win together. Stylistically, Anya has always won out, but the heights Lexa is reaching tonight matched with her technical skills, she just may squeak out this win. And, she’s dropping in!”
“C’mon, Lex,” one of the younger riders whispered behind Clarke.
With the severity of Lexa finally overtaking Anya on the line, the bar was eerily quiet.
“Damn, she’s riding friggin’ HARD!” Another teammate blurted out.
“After a few huge grabs way above the lip-Oh! That’s a big backside 1080, and here she goes, no [BLEEP]ing way! Right into another huge backside 1080, oh my god!” The announcer on TV cried out. “What the hell! Back to back 1080s INTO AN INVERTED 720 at the bottom, holy [BLEEP]! She landed it! Lexa Woods has just completed an absolutely MONSTER run! That is a career best for Woods for SURE!” The announcers on TV whooped and laughed over Lexa skidding to a stop at the bottom of the pipe and stepping out of her board. She eagerly waited for the scores with her goggles pulled back and her bright eyes gleaming.
“I’ve never seen this in women’s pipe on the Dew Tour! With a SWEEP of perfect scores on her third run, and an unheard of combined final score of 99.1, BLOWING Bridges out of the water by two full points, Lexa Woods has just made Dew Tour history!” The announcers freaked out. Lexa threw two fists in the air before falling in on herself and laying down sprawled out in the snow as a row of 100s popped up from the judges.
The bar positively erupted.
“Did we even know she could do that?!” One of the seniors eyed an up and coming younger rider that had been spending a lot of time in the halfpipe with Anya and Lexa.
“I don’t know if Lexa even knew she could do that!” The rookie shouted back. The bartenders popped corks and poured rows of plastic cups of cheap bubbles. The snowboarders standing on the bar helped pass them around. Chants of Lexa’s name broke out and the younger Trikru riders piled on top of one another to celebrate knocking over beers and bar stools and each other in the process.
“Two for two, Ski Patrol! I told you we needed logos all around!” Another teammate slung her arm around Abby and clinked her beer with Clarke. “I don’t know what you’ve been doing for Woods these days, but keep it the fuck up!”
“Mama Ski Patrol, it’s an honor to have you with us on this historic night!” Another rider in her late twenties clapped Abby on the shoulders.
“Bubs for a 1-2 finish, kids! Big day for Woods!” Plastic cups of cheap sparkling wine popped up in front of Clarke, Raven and Abby. “It’s how we do it!”
“You better start stretching now, Reyes!” One of the older riders clapped Raven on the shoulder and pointed to Lexa, Anya and the third place contestant on the podium receiving their awards on the screen. “Bridges is gonna come home and tear you in half after finally getting knocked into a silver pipe spot by Woods!”
“Hey, come on! Ski Patrol’s mom is a classy broad. Tone it down with that in front of her!” A young rookie that had mooneyes for Abby all night wrapped a protective arm around her.
“I’m old enough to be your grandmother, you know,” Abby chuckled and offered up a smile.
“Dr. Griffin, age is just a number. You’re single. I’m single. We’re both smart, open minded women. Let’s not get bogged down by society’s views and just see where the night takes us,” the rookie tried again.
“She gave me the same speech a few weeks ago when I politely told her I was too old for her, too,” Clarke gently pulled the young, drunk snowboarder away from her mother by the back of her flannel.
“Great genetics over here!” The rookie called after them as one of her teammates ushered her away with an apologetic glance Abby’s way.
“This is quite the crew you’ve found yourself,” Abby chuckled at the young riders.
After several celebratory rounds full of chanting and singing and the team treating Clarke a little extra special and Abby politely ignoring the obvious, she and Clarke made their way back to Clarke’s to crash before they both had to get up for more work in the morning.
Across the country in Utah, after an hour of press and photos, Anya and Lexa arrived back at their rental house.
Their coaches and board techs and medical team were all on top of the world with the first and second place finishes and Lexa’s record run. No one on the team had taken a sweep of perfect scores on a run in anything ever. It was momentous and monstrous and Lexa couldn’t find any words for the feeling.
Anya couldn’t find any words for how she was feeling either.
Between the podiums and the press and all of the attention, they hadn’t said anything to one another yet.
“Nice riding tonight,” Lexa tried carefully once they were alone in their living room.
“Thanks,” Anya grumbled. She dropped onto the couch still in her board pants and boots. She had her arms folded and a permanent scowl on her face.
“Do you want the first shower?” Lexa pointed towards the stairs uncomfortably.
“Why don’t you go ahead and take that first spot, too,” Anya muttered.
“Are you seriously mad at me right now?” Lexa stiffened up.
“I’m not mad at you. I’m just mad and you’re the only one here,” Anya huffed. “They over trained me and I was exhausted. I could feel it. If I wasn’t so wiped, I would’ve landed that last 1080 correctly.”
“I’m sorry you didn’t feel right going into it,” Lexa said slowly and carefully to make sure she didn’t say the wrong thing.
“They put all their focus on you and blew my rest window,” Anya scowled.
“Put their focus on me? They literally overbooked me for fake meetings because they didn’t trust me not to try to ride! I wasn’t allowed to touch my gear for like a week! ” Lexa yelped.
“And no one could shut up about it!” Anya huffed.
“Anya, come on,” Lexa spoke up firmly. “Don’t blame me for that. You’re one of the most experienced riders alive. If you were overworked, you should’ve said something. You put up great scores, and you’ll nail the rest window for China and grab another gold for sure.”
“Not if you grab it from me,” Anya glared at her. Lexa took a literal step back in shock.
“I didn’t take anything from you,” Lexa said slowly with heavy purpose. “It wasn’t yours. We competed for the same prize and this time I won. What’s your problem? You rode really well tonight. First and second is what we do. It doesn’t matter who takes what.”
“It matters in the pipe!” Anya snapped.
“No it doesn’t!” Lexa snapped back. “I set an all time Dew Tour record tonight and had the halfpipe run of my goddamn life! I had a literal perfect run! That’s un-fucking-heard of!”
“And you knocked me down in the process!” Anya jolted to her feet.
“I didn’t knock you down. It was a competition! The point is to win and this time I beat you!” Lexa threw her hands up. “Our runs had nothing to do with each other and everything to do with ourselves.”
“But I always win!” Anya cried.
“And tonight, I did,” Lexa kept her voice level and even. They were face to face in the middle of the room. Anya held back exhausted, frustrated tears and Lexa’s shoulders were more confident than ever. “I didn’t take anything from you. I just rode better than you did on this hill on this night for this prize.”
“But I couldn’t have done your last run on my best day!” Anya finally broke. Her voice cracked as she bit back a disappointed sob. “Even if my last run was perfect, I wasn’t going to beat you tonight. You didn’t just win. You fucking burried me.”
“My riding tonight had absolutely nothing to do with you,” Lexa said calmly. “I rode as hard as I could for me. Tonight I just happened to do it better than you did.”
“It’s not just tonight,” Anya sighed and finally dropped her aggressive shoulders. “You’ve been riding better than me for a while. I can’t admit it because of what it says about me. I’m slowing down and you’re still just getting stronger. I’m ranked top in the world in the halfpipe and you blew me off the scoreboard tonight. You won big air with a trick I can’t do. A trick I would never even try because I can’t get the height you can. I’m not as strong as you are and I don’t have the same stability at those speeds that you do. You’re going to win slopestyle. You always win slopestyle.”
“You don’t know that,” Lexa almost smiled. “We just have to ride the best we can that day and we’ll take first and second and the snow will decide which one of us is which.”
“I hate that I’m not happier for you right now,” Anya hung her head after a long lull.
“I do, too,” Lexa sighed honestly. “This sucks. It feels gross and it doesn’t feel like you. It doesn’t feel like us.”
“I want to be more excited for you, but I’m too disappointed in myself. Seriously, Lexa. I knew you were getting scary good, but I’ve never seen anything like that from you,” Anya’s voice tightened to a whisper as she held back her overwhelmed frustration. “I’ve never seen anything like that from anybody. Nobody has. And on the heels of that by air run? Fuck, man.”
“I’ve got an existential edge on you,” Lexa shrugged sadly. “I’m not saving anything anymore. Any run might be my last now. I have to start treating them all like they are.”
“I don’t think my brain will let me do that,” Anya’s voice was small. She wrinkled her nose to hold back the sniffles that came with the hot tears pricking at her eyelids to get out.
“Mine can’t help it,” Lexa replied frankly. “And that’s why I won and you didn’t.”
Both of their phones chimed and interrupted their moment.
“Raven’s calling me,” Anya sighed.
“Take it,” Lexa nodded towards Anya’s room. “Go talk to her.”
Anya sighed and picked up the phone as she left. Lexa glanced down at a text from one of her teammates that read ‘Two generations of Griffin girls were rooting for you tonight, Woods!’ with a photo of Clarke and Abby sitting at the bar with her name across their backs. Abby held up a beer and a thumbs up and Clarke smiled coyly over her shoulder.
Lexa’s phone was full of missed calls and messages from the last hour, but she scrolled through them all to see if there was one from the only person she wanted to hear from.
‘You are so incredible. You’re simply amazing! I’m so, so proud of you, Lex. Can’t wait to hug you!’ was unread in her thread with Clarke.
“You always know what to say, Ski Patrol,” Lexa sighed to herself before pulling up her number.
Back home in Maine, Clarke and Abby were at Clarke’s winding down after the rowdy night at the bar.
“Who’s calling you so late?” Abby, hopped up on cheap beer and even cheaper sparkling wine and more fun than she’d let herself have in years, offered up a girlish grin.
“Lexa,” Clarke grinned bashfully.
“Pick it up!” Abby hissed and waved encouraging hands.
“Is this the Dew Tour Record Setting Champion calling little old me?” Clarke held back a laugh as she and her mother giggled like school girls.
“Hey, Ski Patrol,” Lexa’s delightfully smooth tone slid through the line. “I saw your text, so I thought I’d give you a quick call and see if you were still awake.”
“Before you say anything too inappropriate, you’re on speaker phone and my mother is here,” Clarke warned through her beer buzz.
“One of the girls sent me a photo of two generations of Griffin women wearing my shirts. Abby, I gotta say, I think the extra Griffin luck really helped me out tonight,” Lexa chuckled. Part of her was disappointed that Clarke wasn’t alone, but there was something so lovely and intimate and trusting and honest about Clarke including Abby on the line.
“Congratulations, again, Lex. I don’t know what words to even use because that doesn’t feel big enough. What do you say to someone who just had a literal PERFECT run?!” Clarke cried.
“I don’t know, it’s my first time,” Lexa laughed. “Feels real fuckin’ good, though!”
“I can’t imagine! I had goosebumps when I saw your scores go up. I’ll never forget it! This is me and my mom’s first Christmas celebration together in eight years, and we had hot wings and draft beer for dinner and watched you positively destroy the pipe tonight,” Clarke blurted out. “It was fantastic!”
“Best Griffin holiday party in twenty years!” Abby agreed. She and Clarke had their pajamas on and drank lousy wine that they got at the gas station on the way home out of coffee mugs on the couch. “Lexa, congratulations. It was truly a pleasure to join Clarke and your teammates in watching!” Abby kept on through their excited laughs.
“Thank you both,” Lexa laughed with them. “I wish I could’ve been there, if that makes sense?”
“Who’s headlining the after party?” Clarke calmed her giggles.
“I think it’s Chase, Hewlitt Packard and I wanna say Absolut?” Lexa puzzled. Clarke knew she was doing that adorable thing where she looked to the side and her eyebrows came together by the tone of her voice. “All three of the hosts are my sponsors, I just can’t remember which ones. I know I have to work a little, but I don’t remember why. All of the usual suspects are here. This has been a really huge night.”
“How’s it going with Anya?” Clarke asked gently with a knowing cadence. Lexa’s pause on the other end spoke so much.
“It’s a little weird,” Lexa finally sighed.
“Are you okay around it?” Clarke asked earnestly.
“Yeah, I’m okay,” Lexa lied.
“You’re a shitty liar, Lexa,” Clarke scowled.
“Only to you,” Lexa replied and her smile rounded out the edges of the phone line.
“You’re so smooth sometimes. It’s annoying,” Clarke grumbled into her wine.
“Yeah, I only like to flirt with you, too, Ski Patrol,” Lexa replied with a devastating smirk that Clarke could hear in her voice. It made its way across the airwaves and made Clarke cross her legs and slowly close her eyes at finally getting caught.
“It was so incredible to watch, Lexa. I wish I was there in person,” Clarke diverted attention from the incriminating line.
“I wish you were here, too, Clarke,” Lexa replied with a sweet waiver in her flirty confidence. Voices in the background on Lexa’s line interrupted them. “Hey, that’s my coaches and some of the crew. I’ve gotta get ready for the next thing, and I literally still have my boots and gear on,” Lexa sighed.
“Okay. Have so much fun! Congrats again! I can’t wait to see you!” Clarke squeezed her arms and shoulders in on herself excitedly since she couldn’t give Lexa the big squeeze she so desperately wanted to.
“I’ll call you when I get back. I land in the evening on the twenty-third,” Lexa replied with a certain care. “Anya’s going home to Oregon from here. It’s a shame there’ll be no party to celebrate because everyone will be headed home for the holiday when we get back.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” Clarke shrugged. “I’m working Christmas Eve and Christmas day, but I’m off at night on Christmas.”
“I’ll be in the team house all by my lonesome. Would you like to join me for Christmas dinner?” Lexa almost sounded nervous.
“I’d love that,” Clarke blushed profusely. Abby playfully wagged her brows at Clarke who swatted the air at her away.
“I’m not much of a cook,” Lexa warned in a joking tone.
“I’m sure the two of us can figure something out. Congrats again, Lex. You must be on top of the fucking world right now,” Clarke sighed dreamily.
“Feels pretty damn good,” Lexa exhaled heavily. “Thanks for keeping me on track. I don’t think I’d be where I am this season without you, Clarke.”
“I think you’re giving me too much credit, but it’s been my pleasure,” Clarke replied shyly. “Travel safe and call me when you get home?”
“Will do. Nice to talk with you, Abby! Take care, Ski Patrol,” Lexa laughed as they said their goodbyes.
Abby watched from the couch with a crushing smirk as Clarke’s entire body rose and fell with a big sigh through a goofy grin at the disconnected call and dropped her phone clumsily on the coffee table.
“So,” Abby raised a brow and took a dramatic sip of her wine. “Still not interested in her?”
“Oh my god, Mom. It’s so complicated!” Clarke whined and flopped onto the couch beside her mother with a strained little laugh.
“I had a hunch by the way all of her teammates were treating you that a few things may have changed since I last saw you,” Abby chuckled as Clarke went through a range of expressions. “What’s so complicated about it?”
“She’s under so much stress and so much pressure. It’s crushing. She shares it with me and tells me about it and she’s open with me about it,” Clarke began. She pulled her feet up to sit cross legged and gossip on the couch with her mother. “We’re genuinely very good friends and we care about each other so much.”
“Are you worried about ruining the friendship?” Abby asked and topped off their wine with the end of the bottle.
“No, not really,” Clarke sighed. “It’s not that. She hasn’t said a word about wanting a relationship, not in the literal or figurative sense. She only talks about how poorly her last relationship went in passing and how bad at being in one she was. We’re obviously attracted to one another, but we really, really care about each other. No matter how badly I want her to kiss me, our care and respect for each other comes first. Relationships are stressful. I know she has a lot of respect for me and would want to do it right, and I suspect she’s convinced that she won't, which is why she hasn’t pushed. But as her friend, I can’t be part of adding any more stress and pressure to her life right now. I just can’t.”
“That’s an interesting predicament,” Abby glanced away and mulled it over.
“Maybe after the olympics I can broach it? I don’t even know where to begin,” Clarke whined and covered her face with her hands.
“I can hear how much you care about one another. There’s no denying that,” Abby gestured at Clarke’s phone on the coffee table.
“I never bother to try to deny it. Neither of us do,” Clarke sighed. “There’s a universal understanding in town that we have…something. No one else really knows what it is either, but they all know it’s there and everyone has finally stopped hitting on me and giving us the space to be what we are.”
“Well?” Abby shrugged and took a swig of wine. “Are you happy?”
“What do you mean?” Clarke perked up.
“Does your friendship feel like enough? Is it all enough for you as it is now? Are you happy with it all as it is?” Abby asked slowly.
“I’m not unhappy,” Clarke shrugged.
“That’s not what I asked you,” Abby eyed her witty daughter slyly.
“You were always too good at that,” Clarke chided.
“Where do you think you learned it?” Abby raised her brows expectantly. There was so much comfort in the old habits and finding her way back to a quiet night in with her mother that Clarke opened up further.
“Ultimately?” Clarke took a steadying breath before confession. “No. I’m not totally happy with just being friends, but I’m totally happy with it over nothing. She makes me so happy, but I know there’s more to be had to stay that way. I just can’t bring myself to make her life any more complicated or challenging or difficult than it already is. I can’t be the reason her life gets any harder.”
“She just told you she wouldn’t be doing as well as she is without you,” Abby said evenly with an encouraging shrug. “I think you have proof that you don’t make her life harder, you make it better.”
“As her supportive friend, sure,” Clarke agreed. “But crossing that line changes so much. It changes expectations between us. It changes the value of certain things. Some stuff gets heavier. Some stuff gets bigger. I don’t think this is a good time to put any of that on her just because we turn each other on.”
“Clarke,” Abby paused and tried not to grin. She cleared her throat to serious up for the next question. “Have you considered the possibility that taking all of this care with Lexa’s emotions and protecting her at all costs, including but not limited to protecting her from the joy of sharing her life with you fully, might have a little something to do with the fact that you’re totally in love with her?”
“I know it does!” Clarke whined and fell over on the couch with her hands over her eyes. She landed with her head in Abby’s lap caught somewhere between a painful sigh and the euphoric grin that saying the words out loud brought with it.
“Atta girl. Let it out,” Abby chuckled and patted Clarke on the head.
“I don’t know what to do anymore, Mom,” Clarke sighed. “I made such a fuss about only wanting to be friends, which I’m glad I did, because she came on way too strong and I didn’t care for it at all. But we really got to know one another and trust one another and I can’t stand how perfect we could be for one another, but I can’t bring myself to complicate things for her. I feel like there’s this block I can’t get around, and the block is ME. I put it there!”
“I wish I had more profound motherly advice for you,” Abby chuckled and straightened out Clarke’s curls on her lap. “But when the time is right, you’ll see that you’re not complicating anything for her. You’re making things better for you both and you’ll know what to do.”
“I hope you’re right,” Clarke muttered. “And I hope that time comes really soon, because I think I’m going to explode if it doesn’t.”
Lexa landed as promised late on the twenty-third. Clarke was in holiday weekend double shift hell, and brief text exchanges had to suffice. Lexa avoided the mountain on the holiday knowing it would be mobbed and she wouldn’t be able to get any good runs in and stayed in at the Trikru house and watched all of her teammates leave one by one to go visit with their families.
She picked away at work and tried not to feel lonely as the factory emptied out for the same reason. She felt like the hands on her watch moved backwards on Christmas day as she waited for Clarke’s workday to end.
“Merry Christmas!” Lexa cried enthusiastically as Clarke walked into the Trikru house kitchen late at night on Christmas day with a few bags in her hands and a long, flat gift wrapped in bright holiday paper tucked under one arm.
“Merry Christmas to you, too!” Clarke laughed and set her things down so she could pull Lexa into the hug they had both been craving all week.
The familiar and soothing sensation slowed both of their escalating, anxious heartbeats. The days of waiting and anticipation and building tension evaporated in that perfect embrace.
“Sorry about the mess. I know it’s not exactly festive, but I had some work to catch up on and I haven’t cleaned up yet,” Lexa slid out of the hug first and gestured at the big dining table that was covered in poster sized prints and paperwork.
“Don’t even worry about it,” Clarke waved a hand and took a steadying breath when she realized the table that sat twenty and was usually covered in keg cups and flip cup games now had dozens of beautiful 18x24 high definition black and white prints of Lexa’s chiseled back in a sports bra doing pull ups and lifting weights. “First and foremost, I do believe congratulations are in order?” Clarke grinned and pulled a bottle of champagne out of one of her bags.
“You didn’t need to do that,” Lexa replied sweetly.
“Shut up. Of course I did,” Clarke waved her off. “Do you guys even have real glasses in this place or is it all plastic?”
“We have glasses,” Lexa chuckled and found two quickly while Clarke popped the cork.
“I’m sorry there isn’t more fanfare for your big win,” Clarke smiled sympathetically. “But I’ll do my best to be a one woman celebration. I brought a few bottles of wine and a buttload of snacks.”
“Sounds perfect,” Lexa laughed as she poured them each a glass. She was so smiley and light and looked well rested. Her normally cocky and confident posture had changed to something so solid and self assured and calm.
It was intoxicating.
“To a lifetime of hard work on and off the snow,” Clarke held her glass up. “To achieving what almost no one ever does, and to making a perfect run look easy. You are incredible and I’m so proud of you.”
“Thank you,” Lexa said softly with a genuine smile. “I’ll drink to that.”
“To you and your success,” Clarke clinked her glass against Lexa’s. “And all that’s to come.”
“I had a lot of help and support to get here,” Lexa said with seriousness after taking a sip. “Yours helped push me up over the top.”
“It’s been my pleasure,” Clarke met Lexa’s seriousness with a warm smile, then cleared her throat to move on. She couldn’t let herself swim around in Lexa’s loving green eyes too much longer and keep her composure after everything she admitted to her mother. And to herself. “We’ve talked a lot about your run and your training and how great that all feels, but how’s it going with Anya?”
“Not great,” Lexa wrinkled her nose and hid her disappointment in a sip of her drink.
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Clarke offered up a sympathetic wince.
“Complicated feelings for us both, I guess,” Lexa shrugged. “We’re fiercely loyal to one another, and we act like it’s the two of us against the world all the time. Sometimes we forget that at the end of the day, we’re competing with each other. And in a competition, someone’s gotta win.”
“Right. That’s gotta be tough to navigate all the time,” Clarke encouraged her to go on.
“It was really hard when we were younger and figuring out what all of this means. It got easier for a while, and now that we’re getting older and we’re looking at the end of our careers, it’s getting harder again,” Lexa sighed.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Clarke asked openly.
“Honestly?” Lexa took a deep breath. “Not really? Maybe it’s a good thing that she’s getting some space from me and going home for a few days to see her family. I’m probably the last person she wants to look at, and while I hate that, I also get it. I’m hoping it’ll be blown over when she gets back.”
“I hope so, too,” Clarke nodded in affirmation, and moved to change the subject. “Are you hungry?”
“For sure. What’d you bring?” Lexa grinned softly at Clarke’s perfect read on the situation, and as always, Clarke’s perfect read on Lexa herself.
“All kinds of stuff,” Clarke grinned back. Lexa helped her unload the snacks and they moved around the kitchen together to find proper plates and bowls.
“Since I’m a slob with my work, we’ll have to sit on the couch and eat at the coffee table,” Lexa nodded her head towards the livingroom. “It’s so rare that I’m the only one here. I’m taking advantage and spreading right out.”
The house felt enormous with just the two of them in it. Clarke had never seen it so quiet. Even on tame week nights when she came by, there were always ambient sounds of someone playing xbox in their room, music and laughter from the back hallway, teammates in the kitchen looking for snacks, a bunch of them stretching and foam rolling and shouting at one another about nothing in the living room, and the general hum of fifteen rowdy women at home.
“Fine by me,” Clarke replied and they each picked up a few plates and made their way over. As she passed the display of Lexa’s body again, Clarke let herself have another look. “It’s my turn to go first, right?”
“I do believe it is, Ski Patrol,” Lexa glanced over her shoulder with a grin that hovered between sweet and sly.
“That’s quite the scar you’ve got on your back,” Clarke nodded her head at the photos. “How’d you get it?”
“Oh, this old thing?” Lexa joked. She set the snacks on the coffee table and lifted up her sweatshirt to show Clarke the real deal. A well-healed, pink scar swooped from her lower back up towards her ribs on her right side. “When I fell in Russia, my knee gave out and I basically bent in half and tumbled in a ball for a while. I was going really fast. My board kicked up backwards and I landed on it at some point. It was warm there and I didn’t have a lot of layers on. The edge cut right through me.”
“Holy shit, I didn’t know that,” Clarke exhaled slowly with wide eyes.
“I don’t really remember it, to be totally honest,” Lexa shrugged and sat down on the couch with room for Clarke to sit beside her. “It all happened so fast that I can’t put the pieces together of what happened when. I only watched the video of it once and that was more than enough.”
“I don’t blame you,” Clarke said understanding as she eased onto the couch.
“Yeah, it was a really bad one,” Lexa dug into the food so she wouldn’t have to make eye contact as she recalled it all. “Anya wasn’t right for a little while after. Maybe longer than me in some ways. She had the run before me and she was right there at the bottom as it happened. They took my USA jacket off and tossed it aside when they were treating me and loading me on the sled. The team photographer got this absolutely brutal photo of Anya watching them take me away and she’s just standing there holding my USA jacket covered in blood and my bloody bib.”
“I didn’t realize it was more than your knee that you hurt in that fall. Or that Anya was beside you for it,” Clarke replied with the warmth of comprehension in her eyes.
“Oh yeah. I was pretty fucked up, and it screwed her up, too. Mostly bad bruises, some smaller cuts and stuff from my edges, and I broke a few fingers,” Lexa smiled sadly and wiggled her fingers at Clarke who tried not to think too hard about other ways the gesture might fit nicely into her life. “We don’t talk about it much. It was traumatic for us both. For obvious reasons for me, but she watched the whole thing. She was right there in it with me. I’m sure you’re perfectly familiar, but blood on snow always looks so much more dramatic than it is. I held up the whole event cause they have to dig it all out and refill it with new snow. Biohazard and all.”
“Even a little blood on snow looks like a lot,” Clarke nodded in agreement.
“Fortunately it was just superficial. Made laying around while recovering a total bitch, but now I have this sexy bad boy,” Lexa chuckled sadly and gestured to her scar.
“It’s healed really nicely,” Clarke shrugged, unsure of what she was supposed to say.
“That’s a positive spin, I guess,” Lexa grinned to soften the mood. “That ad campaign is for my new sports bras coming this spring and I have to approve the stuff they want to use,” she added on and nodded at the table full of photos. “The slogan has something about strength and support and overcoming. I don’t remember. Something that makes you feel powerful in our underwear,” Lexa rolled her eyes and Clarke laughed. “They don’t use my injury to sell things often, thankfully. But I said they could for this.”
“I’m glad they don’t exploit your trauma,” Clarke scoffed.
“Nah, they get real close sometimes, but not without my permission,” Lexa chuckled. “They’re actually great sports bras if you want some. I know that sounds like a weird thing to offer as a friend? But you’re an athlete with boobs and you know how important a good one is.”
“Oh yeah. I’ve had these since I was like, eleven,” Clarke agreed and jokingly offered up a shimmy that Lexa liked too much. “I’d check out some sponsored sports bras. Trikru makes great stuff.”
“What about you? Any good scars?” Lexa raised a brow and moved on to her first question to try and get her mind off of Clarke’s cleavage.
“I do have one pretty good one, and it came from a bloody snow incident as well, but I’d have to take my pants off to show it to you,” Clarke accidentally flirted before she could stop herself.
The fact that they were so, so alone screamed in the beat of silence that followed while they both short circuited with where to go from there. Lexa couldn’t find a cocky retort and tripped over too many thoughts of tossing Clarke’s glass of wine aside and pushing her back on the couch.
“Because it’s on my thigh,” Clarke clarified and tried to break the tension and made it worse by tracing the path of the scar up her thigh with her index finger. “I fell in a race when I was twenty and one of my skis came off and bounced back at me and ripped through my race suit.”
“Shit, the edges racers keep on their skis are literally razor sharp,” Lexa was thankful to move on to a topic that was kind of gruesome and away from Clarke taking her clothes off.
“You’re not wrong,” Clarke eased back down from accidentally suggesting to get undressed. “I was lucky that was all I walked away with. I’ve been very fortunate to only have minor and typical injuries for how hard I was skiing for so long.”
“Law of averages for how often and how hard I ride, I’ve actually been doing pretty well for myself, too,” Lexa glanced away in thought.
“Don’t bring math into this, Lexa,” Clarke chided sarcastically. “We’re both just really good at it.”
“Damn right,” Lexa agreed and clinked her glass against Clarke’s. “Sometimes when I’m in the terrain park, I feel like I’m tempting fate.”
“That reminds me, I know we didn’t talk about it, so don’t make it weird if you didn’t get me something, but I have a Christmas gift for you,” Clarke pushed herself up off the couch to get the gift she walked in with.
“You didn’t have to do that, Clarke,” Lexa replied in kind as she got up to follow her. It was so seldom that Lexa actually addressed Clarke by her name that it felt intimate and sweet and special somehow.
Clarke loved it every time and wanted to hear it as often as possible.
“I know I didn’t have to. I wanted to,” Clarke replied over her shoulder as she bent to pick up the gift.
“I got you a little something as well,” Lexa grinned and moved a few of the posters of her back and shoulders aside to reveal a small, flat wrapped gift. They handed them awkwardly to one another. “You wanna go first?”
“Sure,” Clarke agreed to avoid getting stuck in a loop of after yous and slid her finger under the taped edge to pull the paper back. She was met with the back of a picture frame and slowly turned it over to reveal the shot from the promodel party of herself smiling bashfully with her eyes closed and a hand on her face and Lexa in profile grinning smugly at her with her arm around her.
Her breath hitched when she took it in. It was so wonderfully, perfectly, exactly them.
“Lexa,” Clarke’s voice wavered.
“I noticed once you got fully unpacked that you didn’t have any pictures at your place,” Lexa said nervously. “I love having my memories and my people on display. It helps me stay motivated when stuff gets hard. You’ve been such a huge part of everything I’m going through, and everything you’re going through is really big and challenging, too. I thought maybe you could use a little daily reminder around the house that you’re not alone.”
“Thank you,” Clarke replied through a grin that spread so wide her eyes started to close.
“I know it’s not much. I didn’t really-”
“I love it,” Clarke cut Lexa off firmly.
“Good,” Lexa smiled warmly.
“Open yours,” Clarke encouraged with one hand and held the frame to her chest fondly with the other. Lexa tore the paper away from the gift and Clarke watched as her brows twitched in confusion. She held a long, narrow framed drawing with diagrams and math and handwritten notes all over it. “So, I made some friends on the snowmaking team during my training weeks, and I called in a favor to get this for you. That’s the original planning chart for the Mount Polis terrain park that the snowmaking crew used during the first season that you were a sponsored Trikru Team rider,” Clarke explained.
Lexa held the frame at arm’s length and took it in with eyes welling up with tears. She wordlessly set it down on the table then abruptly took the photo out of Clarke’s hands so she could pull her in for the tightest hug.
“This is the most thoughtful and perfect gift I have ever been given,” Lexa’s voice was muffled by Clarke’s hair. Lexa;s voice tickled Clarke’s ear and she shivered in the best way.
“I’m glad you like it,” Clarke replied and gave Lexa a tighter squeeze. Her heart sped up with Lexa wrapped around her.
“I absolutely love it,” Lexa pulled back and wiped her eyes. She picked up the frame and took it in again. “I remember this. I can understand this. I LIVED in that park that year,” Lexa smiled so fondly and traced her finger over the old lines she remembered. She didn’t know what else to say. It was such a perfect, thoughtful gift.
“They keep all that stuff archived,” Clarke offered up gently in Lexa’s stunned silence. “The head of records is cool. She and I are friendly. Kane and I work closely with the snowmakers because we need to know any time the terrain changes. I’m sure if I asked nicely, we could get in there and you could see anything you want.”
“I never even really thought about stuff like this still being around,” Lexa didn’t take her eyes off of it.
“There’s tons of it. They have a whole building. It’s pretty cool,” Clarke kept on.
“I’m sorry I’m always crying in front of you these days,” Lexa chuckled and wiped her eyes again.
“It’s okay,” Clarke reached out and gave Lexa’s shoulder a squeeze. “I know you keep it bottled up for everyone else. You need somewhere to let it out. You’ve got a lot of huge feelings and they’re all safe with me.”
“I know they are,” Lexa smiled and took the park drawing in a little longer with fond memories swirling in the back of her brain. She was totally overwhelmed in all good ways. “I’ve never really, truly had that with anyone.”
“No one at all?” Clarke raised a cautious brow.
“Sometimes Anya, but to a point,” Lexa shrugged. “As you’re seeing right now, the fine line of competition is always there no matter how close we are. I tried with my ex, but she used it to ruin me.”
“What happened between you two?” Clarke asked carefully. She didn’t want to break the perfect mood that came with heartfelt, thoughtful gifts, but she also knew she’d never truly get out of the spiral of not knowing how and when to move forward if she didn’t understand the hang ups in Lexa’s past love life.
“Coming in hot on number two of the holiday edition of three honest questions tonight, eh, Ski Patrol?” Lexa flicked her gaze back to Clarke with a sarcastic smirk.
“You brought it up?” Clarke shrugged innocently. “You’ve brought her up a bunch of times, but you never get into it. But you don’t have to if you don’t-”
“She was one of my teammates,” Lexa exhaled heavily.
“Oh,” Clarke clammed up. “Oh wow.”
“Yeah,” Lexa sighed through a sad smile. “She’d been riding for Azgeda Boards for a while up in Canada and wanted bigger and better opportunities and came looking down here. She’s Canadian, which made our Olympic training interesting. Trikru picked her up while I was recovering after Sochi and we were broken up before South Korea, so we never had to fight for medals on different teams while we were together. Probably for the best. She didn’t come close to placing. She was good, but I was way better.”
“I had no idea about any of this,” Clarke said with a little head shake.
“It was a while ago. No one talks about it anymore, really. A lot of the newer riders weren’t here for it and the senior riders are glad it’s over,” Lexa said calmly and nodded her head towards the couch.
They both sat back down and got comfortable.
“We’re together all the time on the team, so when two of us end up attracted to one another, it can get very messy very quickly if it’s not handled maturely,” Lexa gestured with her hand around the room. “We have constant access to one another. We live in the same house, we train together, we travel together, we eat together, we share bathrooms. We share everything. She and I had a connection and we were constantly on top of one another, and despite Anya warning me not to, I couldn’t help myself.”
“That doesn’t seem so bad,” Clarke tried. “You’ve spoken so much about how hard and bizarre this life is. Having someone in it with you sounds kind of nice.”
“Yeah, it was for a while,” Lexa agreed. “I was turning into a pretty big deal back then and really locking in my status as the Queen of Slopestyle and the princess of the halfpipe behind Anya. My promodels were super popular. Trikru had established itself as one of the bigger players in the game. I started making huge money and landing the biggest sponsorships in the industry by the dozen.”
“An overwhelming time in your life I’m sure,” Clarke encouraged.
“Mostly in a good way,” Lexa glanced away and considered it. “My board that was in development that season was revolutionary. Our engineers changed the way park boards are made with that one. We were the first to use a lot of carbon tech and plastic hybrids to make things lighter but still strong and flexible when needed and rigid when not. They figured out all kinds of stuff to make me jump higher, ride faster and land cleaner. It was ground breaking.”
Clarke sat quietly and listened. She loved the way Lexa’s voice sounded when she talked about riding, but had a hunch things were about to take a turn.
“She and I were evenly matched in wits and flirty nature and we partied really hard together. You’ve been around it. You know what the social aspect of this life brings. While it is kind of nice to have someone in it, you kind of never really have all of them,” Lexa’s brows knit together as she carefully chose the right words. “There’s so much image stuff, and business mixed with pleasure.”
“Do you really think the general you can’t totally have someone in this life, or do you think you personally can’t totally give yourself to someone else for other reasons?” Clarke asked innocently.
“Poignant, Ski Patrol,” Lexa cracked a somber smile.
“Just clarifying,” Clarke matched the mixed emotions with a tame one shoulder shrug.
“I definitely tried to share my full self with her. And she was my person, you know? We loved each other, or I thought we did. We shared everything and I was so excited and was riding like I never had before. This was after my big fall, so it was huge for me to be able to keep pushing and smash my own records,” Lexa kept going with far away eyes as she recalled it all. “The sex was great. We had a lot of fun together and I opened up to her about so many things. The biggest thing in my life was that I was pioneering this new tech with the company and I told her all about it.”
“That must have been really lovely to have someone you could share everything with that just gets it,” Clarke tried while waiting for the other shoe to drop.
“It was, until she sold all the info to Azgeda and went back to ride for them,” Lexa slowly turned her head to meet Clarke’s eyes with a sad and guilty smile.
“Lex, no,” Clarke’s heart sank.
“Yup,” Lexa let out a big sigh. “We were young, sexy, wild flirts and I never really thought too much about the fact that she was occasionally hooking up with other people behind my back. It was just riding party culture and I convinced myself I was okay with it. Shit, I used to do that kind of stuff, too. It was the kind of people we both were at the time.”
Clarke didn’t say anything as Lexa took a few deep breaths to reflect and collect herself.
“I never set super clear boundaries on that because I didn’t really know how. I’ve never had anyone I was truly that close with. I didn’t put the right things in the right places, maybe?” Lexa squinted as she sorted through the memories. “I didn’t put it all together that if she wasn’t being forthright about our relationship there was probably all kinds of other stuff she might be doing behind my back. I didn’t see the dishonest signs until it was too late. She dropped me and didn’t even care. Moved right on and took all of my personal and professional secrets with her.”
“That’s so awful,” Clarke exhaled with wide eyes.
“So when I say I was bad at being someone’s partner, I mean almost-ruined-my-career-and-took-the-company-down-with-me bad at it,” Lexa tried to get a little laugh to bubble to the surface, but it didn’t make it. “She walked all over me, made me look like a total fool, snuck in and caught Trikru with our pants down, and then left.”
“You weren’t bad at being someone’s partner. She treated you like crap. You just wanted to share yourself with someone you cared about, but she didn’t care about you the right way,” Clarke had the realization out loud and they both paused as the huge weight of it dropped on the couch between them. “There’s nothing wrong with that, or with you, at all.”
“Maybe,” Lexa tried to shift her view of it. “I fell in love with a fucking spy. You ever have a break up so bad that moving forward, your company makes you sign NDAs for your own products that they make specifically for you?” Lexa raised a brow and her cheeky grin almost returned.
“I have to say no,” Clarke eased back into their banter with a slight smile.
“Being superficial and disconnected worked before that, and it has served me well since. The only other person I’ve ever really trusted and opened up to is Anya.”
“And me,” Clarke said strongly.
“You’re different,” Lexa replied before she could figure out why she felt that way.
“What’s so different about me?” Clarke asked with welcoming eyes and a guarded tone. Lexa looked up and their gaze met for a moment that felt like an hour.
“I don’t know,” Lexa finally answered. An involuntary smile tugged at her lips. “I don’t know what the word is for someone that challenges you in all the right ways but also makes you feel safe at the same time. Whatever the emotional version of encouraging me to do things that scare me because I know that if I fall, you’ll catch me.” She looked up and met Clarke’s gaze. Both of their stomachs dropped in tandem. “Is there a word for that?”
Clarke stiffened up and hoped she hid it well, because there was a perfect four letter word for that feeling and she knew it well.
And had been trying to resist saying it for weeks.
“You always know what to say even when the right thing to say is nothing,” Lexa finished with a comforted sigh. “Especially when the right thing to say is nothing.”
“You know I don’t believe in being fake. If there’s nothing to say, I don’t say anything,” Clarke shrugged.
“That’s extremely rare. Most people’s authenticity is so curated it’s back to being superficial these days,” Lexa smiled thankfully at her. “Any more clarifiers?” She added on and her smile shrank to something tired.
“A clarifying statement and not a question,” Clarke said firmly. “You weren’t bad at being someone’s partner. She broke your trust. That had nothing to do with you.”
“But I should’ve seen that coming. I should’ve been clearer about what I wanted and needed,” Lexa trained her eyes on the plate of cheese and crackers as she spoke so she wouldn’t have to see the earnest look in Clarke’s eyes that would make her fall apart again.
“It sounds like all of the clear boundaries and honesty in the world wasn’t going to change what happened between you two,” Clarke sat up straighter. “She used you.”
“I let her,” Lexa held her hands up.
“You didn’t let her,” Clarke said succinctly in her perfectly frank tone she reserved for big points. “She just did it.”
Lexa couldn’t find any words. Her eyes welled up again and she cursed herself for having too many feelings at once.
“I think you should stop saying you were bad at being someone’s partner and start saying you got hurt really badly by your last partner,” Clarke spoke up.
“I’ll think about it,” Lexa relented. “Alright. I showed you mine, now you show me yours.”
“I’m not taking my pants off to show you my scars no matter how sad you are,” Clarke said quickly and gave Lexa one of those perfectly sassy looks from the first few times they flirted.
“I meant what happened when you got your heart broken,” Lexa couldn’t keep a few surprised giggles in check. They were contagious and Clarke chuckled too. “The big one that made you pack your life up and come home and face yourself.”
“I know what you meant. I just wanted to try to make you laugh,” Clarke slowed her laughs down.
“So? What happened?” Lexa leaned back into the couch and brought one of the plates of food onto her lap.
“She was a musician and a bartender and a ski bum,” Clarke sighed. “Her band was pretty good. They were big in the Denver scene, but they did shows all over the west coast from time to time.”
“Your ex is a rock star?” Lexa cocked a curious brow.
“She wishes,” Clarke rolled her eyes. “She was a lot of fun, but she was a world class manipulator that constantly had me doubting and second guessing everything about myself.”
“Clarke, you’re so, so solid I honestly can’t even imagine that,” Lexa surprised Clarke with a sympathetic look and a gentle hand on her thigh.
“You’d think, but I lost that for a while,” Clarke let out a long sigh. “She’s a big reason for that being a hill I’m willing to die on now. When I moved out west, I was searching for something that would make me feel alive. I was pretty screwed up after my dad passed, and I had a lot of misplaced stuff that I wasn’t handling well. My mother was devastated and she didn’t really know how to help herself and me at the same time, and I don’t really blame her for that anymore. When I left for Colorado, I wasn’t in the best of mental states.”
“You were literally a kid, though,” Lexa interjected.
“I was eighteen,” Clarke shrugged.
“I’m thirty-two and I still feel like a kid sometimes,” Lexa shook her head with wide eyes. Clarke stifled a little laugh.
“I had convinced myself that my new life was going to begin out there. I was killing it on the racing circuit. I did really well in school. I was making some new friends while being a watered down, reserved version of myself to be careful with my emotions,” Clarke carried on.
“I don’t believe you could dumb yourself down no matter how hard you tried,” Lexa blurted out before she could stop herself. Clarke paused so she could continue. “Anytime you walk into a room, everyone in it notices. Everything shifts towards you. Your personality has its own gravity or something. I watch it happen every time I see you.”
“I didn’t know you felt that way,” Clarke’s voice fluttered shyly.
“I don’t feel that way,” Lexa shrugged innocently. “It literally happens all the time. It’s not a feeling. It’s a fact.”
“Hunh,” Clarke looked away to let the new information settle in and not wonder too hard abou what that meant.
“So you were trying to be chill?” Lexa prompted Clarke to go on.
“I was trying to figure out what I wanted from my life. I had convinced myself I wanted so much more than I was getting, but nothing ever felt like enough at the same time. When I met her though, it was electric. She was passionate and eccentric and talented and an artist and a reckless skier. She was living so hard and it’s what I thought I needed,” Clarke sighed.
“I get that,” Lexa agreed.
“She was infatuated with me, and after leaving everything I ever knew behind, there was something secure in that somehow,” Clarke continued somberly. “Someone that repeated over and over that they just had to have me. She got to know me really well. I let her right in. We dated on and off for years and years. We split a few times, but kept coming back together. Our first go around was sloppy and messy and wandered into toxic territory, but it was also really beautiful and full of so many special moments. We were young. The passion was exciting. That first big, real love that rocks your whole existence always finds a way to feel mature even when you’re immature in it.”
“Oh, totally,” Lexa nodded. “It feels like what you’ve been searching for your whole life, but also there’s no way to be ready for what it does to you.”
“Exactly,” Clarke sighed. “And there was something about her that I just couldn’t quit. Maybe it was the thrill of that feeling, the passion of it, the rush of it. She was addictive.”
“That doesn’t sound like you,” Lexa puzzled.
“It does in some ways. This was a while ago and I haven’t always been this calm, cool and collected. Even before my dad died I was always searching for things that really made me feel alive. It’s part of why I skied so fast on the biggest baddest terrain I could find. Big love can give you the same adrenaline rush,” Clarke shrugged.
“It sure can,” Lexa puzzled briefly. “But adrenaline rushes usually come because your brain thinks you’re in danger,” she added on with a smug smirk.
“Touche,” Clarke paused to let it roll around in her mind. “I was twenty-two, I think? Everything was exciting the first time, and it was short lived. When we got back together, I hadn’t been racing for a year or two, and I was feeling a little lost and fell back into familiar habits when she promised me she’d changed. All of my racing friends and PT friends were on to other things and I was lonely but I couldn’t admit it. She had this way of saying what I thought I needed to hear, but it was all self serving in the end. I didn’t realize it, but there was a lot of gaslighty stuff going on. She slowly turned some of our friends against me and when we’d split, I’d have no one, and she’d convince me I needed her back. It was all very confusing and we were on and off for almost a decade.”
“That sounds awful,” Lexa slowly stopped eating her snacks and sat up straighter.
“She was always telling me that I didn’t know how to be happy. She would convince me I was going to be miserable forever because of the way I hadn’t dealt with my dad dying and the relationship I had with my mother that was falling apart. She convinced me that I had given up racing for the wrong reasons because I was afraid of being happy. And that everything I did was because I was self sabotaging myself because I didn’t want to let myself be happy. That I don’t know how and never will.”
“I’m glad you gave up racing,” Lexa blurted out.
“What?” Clarke stuttered.
“I’m sure you were great at the physical skiing, but that’s not the life for you. Trying to win all the time does something to the way you view everything and everyone. Including yourself. It’s lonely and it’s selfish, and it kind of has to be. You’re selfless and giving and loving and social. That life would never make you happy long term. You’re not built for it, and that’s a good thing. You belong doing exactly what you’re doing. You’re so good at it,” Lexa shrugged nervously, a little surprised that she let herself say so much. Her protective urges and possessive feelings about Clarke were stirring up over someone that wasn’t even around anymore.
“Do you really think so?” Clarke’s voice was timid and small and so hopeful.
“I know so,” Lexa scoffed.
“She didn’t understand why I’d want to risk my life for other people,” Clarke glanced away and cleared her throat.
“I think that couldn’t be a more obvious thing for you to do with your life,” Lexa said frankly.
“I always thought she was the one who really knew me, but at the end of the day, I wonder if she ever really did at all and I just needed to believe she did,” Clarke sighed. “The way she made me look to other people, it was so messy. There was so much of it that was so subtle over a long period of time that I couldn’t really see it. But some parts of it felt so real and right, and while a lot of what went on between us was bad, a lot of it was really wonderful, too.”
“She sounds awful,” Lexa shook her head and kept her eyes trained on the snacks so she wouldn’t get distracted by Clarke’s glassy blue eyes.
“After my squad dog passed, I was obviously grieving. She just kept saying that I didn’t know how to be happy and that I was never going to be happy because I fundamentally didn’t know how,” Clarke trailed off. “And that really busted me up. It really broke my heart that the person I had been giving and giving myself to just told me to my face that I would never be happy. Ever. That I would never be enough. Not for her, not for anyone, not for myself,” Clarke’s voice cracked. “I realized that I had to get away from her and all of the things I ran to. I’m too scared that she’s right. I hate that she might be. I decided to come back to the last place I really WAS happy to see if it helped,” Clarke heaved a huge, calming sigh. “So? Here I am. At home.”
“Well,” Lexa swallowed hard and collected herself before bringing her eyes up to Clarke’s again. “Are you happy now?”
“I’m definitely getting there,” Clarke replied with a cautious smile and summoned all of her willpower not to add on ‘Because of you.’
“I see now why you were so guarded around my original shallow and abundant advances,” Lexa smirked to break the tension.
“Yeah,” Clarke sighed softly. “But I’m really glad something made me take a chance on you anyway.”
“Me too,” Lexa grinned sincerely.
“For my last question,” Clarke tried to shift the gloomy air away, but they were both so clouded with past sadness. “What made you take a chance on being friends with me when I told you I wasn’t going to get with you?”
“Honestly, the fact that you told me you weren’t gonna get with me,” Lexa shrugged coyly. Clarke laughed. “No one ever tells me no. A little part of me hoped you were leading me on and it was some exciting cat and mouse flirt thing, but I was glad to find out you weren’t. I couldn’t figure you out, which is so silly because you were nothing but clear and obvious from the jump. In trying to understand you, you made me see things in myself that I didn’t know were there.”
“Really?” Clarke chuckled nervously.
“Oh yeah. No one has ever made me really think like you do,” Lexa replied warmly. “Not Anya, not my ex, not my therapist. No one. I’ve never had a friend like you.”
Clarke begged her features not to droop as heavily as her heart did on the word friend.
“When we came to your house for beers that first night, when I brought your wallet back?” Lexa glanced up to catch Clarke’s nod to continue. “I really thought that was a come on. Or maybe I just hoped it was. Or maybe that’s just what I was used to. But the way you talked to me and the way you treated me? I just knew I had to know you. The way getting to know you made me feel about myself made me realize you were someone I needed in my life.” Lexa paused to sneak a glance Clarke’s way, but Clarke was looking away sheepishly with a big, shy smile. “So I knew I just had to be friends with you. I didn’t know it would be this good, though,” Lexa added sincerely.
“Thank you, Lexa,” Clarke replied in kind. “That’s very sweet of you.”
“You alway say you like my sweet side,” Lexa said with that smooth confidence she’d been showing all night. “I’ll turn it back on you and stick with the theme tonight. What made you want to be friends with me even though I was covered in red flags from the start?”
“There was something genuinely good about you mixed in with all of your over the top attitude,” Clarke paused and brought a hand to her mouth as she thought it over. “The parts of you I wasn’t excited about felt forced. Like you never really wanted to be this persona you feel like you’ve had to project. I could see it in your smiles and the way you asked me questions. When all that beer spilled on me and you brought me upstairs and gave me new clothes, you really were just trying to keep me dry and safe, weren’t you?”
“I was!” Lexa sat up straight and let out an indignant laugh. “I mean, if you were into it, I was into it, but I was pretty confident I was striking out with you. I still didn’t want you getting sick, though. I’m a good host. Northern Hospitality, baby.”
Clarke’s jaw trembled at Lexa calling her baby. She knew it was a joke, but it didn’t feel any less exquisite.
“I liked that you proposed right away that we ask each other very real questions. I promised myself when I moved back home that I wouldn’t have any more relationships, platonic or otherwise, that weren’t based in total honesty, and you went right for it,” Clarke couldn’t help but let out a sweet smile.
“You told me you didn’t like anything fake,” Lexa held her hands up. “So I decided not to be.”
“I’m really glad you did,” Clarke replied, caught between trying to figure out if this was a perfect moment between two friends who trusted one another to feel safe on a lonely holiday, or if it was the perfect moment to finally bring their lips together.
The lull buzzing between them was confusing and full of mixed emotions and stooped shoulders. Defeat of the past mingled with the strength of the present between two people who cared so much about each other in so many different, conflicting ways.
“Look, Clarke,” Lexa broke the spell. “I’m not really my best emotionally right now. This all got much heavier than I expected tonight. And that’s okay. I like getting deep with you, but it’s been kind of a lot on the heels of, well, kind of a lot? I didn’t mean for it to go this way,” Lexa let out a big sigh and picked up the TV remote. “So my clarifier has nothing to do with my last question if that’s okay,” Lexa paused and pulled up the TV menu. “What’s your favorite Christmas movie?”
“Muppets Christmas Carol,” Clarke relented and let the moment between friends win over.
“I love that one,” Lexa said through a tired grin.
“C’mere,” Clarke said habitually and rested against the back of the couch and gestured for Lexa to come lean against her. “Cue it up and come on over. You must be exhausted. I’m sorry we went a little hard on three questions tonight.”
“It’s alright,” Lexa dropped against Clarke’s side and let out a huge breath as the opening credits rolled. The feeling of one another’s embrace settled all of the evening’s cloudy emotions. “Even the hard stuff feels good somehow with you.”
***
Clarke’s alarm burst through the silent morning. She instinctively reached for her phone and snoozed it, then tried to sit up, but a weight kept her down.
Lexa was sound asleep on top of her with her head on Clarke’s chest and her arms around Clarke’s waist. Clarke’s legs wrapped around Lexa’s hips. The perfect pretzel they’d twisted into at some point in the night felt so wonderfully right that Clarke let her eyes fall closed again and sink into the sensation without taking much stock in the gravity of the situation. A deep, content sigh from Lexa and the familiar smell of Lexa’s hair jogged Clarke’s brain awake.
Her eyes popped open and she took in the messy bun of chestnut curls and the body she thought way too much about in all of her idle waking moments tangled up with her own and she fought a gasp.
“Shit! Lex, wake up!” Clarke hissed as she looked at the time. The morning came crashing down around her.
“Huh?” Lexa startled awake. “What?”
“We fell asleep on the couch!” Clarke whined and rubbed her eyes. “I have to go to work! I’ll never make it home in time to get ready and get back to the mountain on time!”
“Alright, no problem. What do you need?” Lexa pushed herself off of Clarke and hated the way the absence of her warmth felt. They both avoided enjoying the feeling of Lexa propped up on her elbows looking down at Clarke with their hips pressed together.
“My patrol jacket and my skis are in my car, but I need base layers and ski pants and socks and breakfast, fuck! Ulgh!” Clarke rattled off quickly and jumped to her feet with her hands on her head and stress pouring off of her.
“Good news, Ski Patrol. You’re in a house loaded to the brim with women’s snowboard gear that’s always prepared for surprise guests. We got this,” Lexa said groggily and got to her feet. She rested a steadying hand on Clarke’s shoulder. “Go up to my room and go through my dresser and put on whatever you need. I promise I have everything. There are toothbrushes and stuff under the sink in me and Anya’s bathroom. I’ll make you some coffee and some breakfast and find you a pair of board pants. There are literally dozens and dozens of pairs in the house. We can have you dressed and fed and on the mountain in thirty minutes or less.”
“Really?” Clarke asked with wide eyes and a grateful smile.
“Absolutely,” Lexa yawned with a sleepy, reassuring smile. “Get going!” She gestured towards the stairs and watched as Clarke hustled away with sporty grace. She took advantage of the few moments alone to let out a huge breath with wide eyes as she shook off the lingering feelings of her body melting into Clarke’s.
“Shit, shit, SHIT!” Clarke hissed to herself as she rifled through Lexa’s drawers. She was stressed about being late, stressed about letting herself fall asleep unplanned, and extra stressed about how damn wonderful waking up with Lexa all the fuck over her felt. Her hands shook as she grabbed the first base layer top and bottoms she could find and wriggled into them. She paused as she popped her head through the neck hole and came face to face with the photo of herself on Lexa’s night stand.
The same photo Lexa gave her for Christmas of the two of them sat beside it now.
She clenched her eyes shut and heaved a huge breath in an attempt to slow the rapid fire of too many huge emotions, then ran down the stairs.
“Coffee’s on. It’ll just be a minute,” Lexa said lightly, then glanced up to catch Clarke turned away from her in a set of black baselayers with her arms over her head pulling up her hair. Head to toe black spandex made Clarke’s athletic, hourglass, feminine frame more irresistible than usual.
Catching her name across Clarke’s toned shoulders caused a rise in Lexa’s chest that would never get old.
“I poured you a big water and there’s some fruit on the counter,” Lexa added and nodded towards a bowl of berries as she stirred scrambled eggs in a pan on the stove.
“Thank you so much!” Clarke exhaled. She had grateful eyes as she dove into the breakfast. “I don’t usually do this sort of thing. I’m not this irresponsible with where I fall asleep. Thanks for all of your help.”
“Of course,” Lexa chuckled. There was a new sweetness in her smiles. Both of them were too scared to bring up how lowkey lovely it was to instantly slip into the feeling of routine domesticity without questioning it for even a moment. Lexa at the stove with bed head and a gentle smile was something Clarke wanted to wake up to every morning. “Are you doing long days all week?”
“Unfortunately,” Clarke scowled with her mouth full. “Holiday week is hell at any resort. We have the full staff and as many volunteers as we can get. I probably won’t see you for real again until the New Year’s party.”
“Do you have your gold outfit all picked out? We always have a Gold Party on Olympic years. It’s gonna be a good one this year,” Lexa tried to hide her disappointment with an early morning attempt at joking around.
“I have something in the back of my closet that I think will work,” Clarke replied with a smidge of flirtation for good measure.
“I’ve got a lot of training this week, and a lot of business meetings, but I won’t be nearly as booked up as you are, so hit me up if you need anything on your extra long days,” Lexa carried on in the calm and collected kind tone she’d been using most of the night before. It twisted up Clarke’s insides in a whole new way and made Lexa even harder to resist.
“Thank you,” Clarke said genuinely after fighting the instinct to tell Lexa that she didn’t need to do that and opted to lean into friends taking care of one another since that’s where they needed to live right now. “I should be good, but I’ll definitely let you know.”
Clarke really missed all of the flirting and didn’t know how to ask for it back.
The Trikru riders returned home one by one all week long, and Lexa was thankful for the distraction. She hadn’t seen most of them since her halfpipe win, and reconnecting with them over it was a blast. She didn’t have the heart to admit to herself that she was glad Anya was the last one coming back. She hated what was going on between them, but she didn’t know what to do about it either. Other than a brief Merry Christmas text, Anya had been radio silent since she left Utah.
Lexa sat on her bed a few days after Christmas totally distracted by how bad it felt not to talk to her best friend because of achieving her own goals while looking through paperwork when there was a knock on her door
“It’s open,” Lexa said routinely.
“Hey.” It was Anya. She poked her head through the half open door and stayed anxiously in the hallway.
“Hey!” Lexa tried not to light up too hard and scare her off.
“I’m home,” Anya said awkwardly and nodded towards her room behind her.
“Welcome back,” Lexa offered up a cautious smile.
“Thanks,” Anya replied and lingered in the doorway unsure of where they stood with one another.
“Do you want to come in?” Lexa asked with a more sincere smile.
“Look, Lex. I’m just going to get it out of the way,” Anya huffed as she closed the door behind her and sat beside Lexa on her bed. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay,” Lexa replied right away.
“No, it’s not. You were right. Your run and your scores had nothing to do with me,” Anya said firmly.
“Still probably sucked for you to come in second, though,” Lexa nodded sympathetically.
“Super did,” Anya nodded back. “But that has nothing to do with you. I was so shitty to you when I was feeling shitty about me, and I shouldn’t have done that.”
“Thank you,” Lexa replied warmly and patted Anya on the back. “It’s okay. Lot of high emotions. Lot of big feelings involved.”
“I missed you and I hated that I didn’t want to talk to you, and I hated that it was over all of this, and I thought about calling you, but my apologies barely even sound sincere when they’re in person and I really wanted you to know that I know that the way I treated you wasn’t cool,” Anya let out a deep breath she felt like she’d been holding since she walked in the front door of the house as she spat out her run on sentence.
“It sounds very sincere,” Lexa laughed good naturedly. “How about this? I get it, I know where you’re coming from, I forgive you and we’re cool, but if I beat you in China, don’t do it again.”
“Deal,” Anya sighed through a relieved smile.
“How was your trip? How are your parents?” Lexa shifted gears immediately to prove that she was over it.
“They’re good. It was fine. There was a lot of talk about my impending retirement and it both fucked me up and made me realize I needed to apologize, so, you know. Double edged sword or whatever.”
“Do you want to talk about it?” Lexa tried.
“Not at all,” Anya sighed heavily again. “I don’t want to talk about it until I’m finally ready to announce it for real because I’m still undecided on when it is.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Lexa said succinctly as she shuffled the paperwork on her bed into a neat pile.
“What are you working on?” Anya nodded at the stack of folders and papers on Lexa’s lap.
“My new sports bras are coming out in February. Bunch of scar photos,” Lexa rolled her eyes and held up the stack.
“Tasteful at least?” Anya asked hopefully with a raised brow.
“Very,” Lexa brushed it off and stood up to put her work on her desk. It gave Anya a full view of the new, big art above her headboard.
“Hey, what’s that?” Anya nodded at the framed park diagram.
“Oh,” Lexa instantly blushed and bit back a grin. “Clarke gave me that for Christmas.”
“What is it?” Anya squinted and leaned closer.
“She called in a favor from the snowmaking crew and got it for me. It’s the original plans for the Mount Polis Terrain Park from the first year I was a signed Trikru rider,” Lexa replied shyly and tried to downplay how excited she was about it.
“I’m sorry, what?” Anya said heavily and flicked her eyes to meet Lexa’s.
“Dude,” Lexa rubbed her hands over her eyes.
“Lexa,” Anya said flatly.
“I know,” Lexa whined.
“That’s so incredibly thoughtful,” Anya kept on.
“I know,” Lexa sighed.
“Like…she must’ve been thinking of getting that for you for a while. That’s old. Like, really old. Someone had to dig that out of the archives. She had to get a custom frame for that. No one makes custom frames within an hour of here,” Anya looked back at the drawing and ran her eyes over some of the lines.
“How do you know that?” Lexa puzzled.
“We live in the middle of nowhere,” Anya shrugged. “Everything is an hour away from here.”
“Fair,” Lexa shrugged back.
“So did you two make sweet, sweet love after she gave you this or what?” Anya cast a hand at the diagram.
“What?! No!” Lexa spat out.
“Why the fuck not? That is a clear and obvious declaration of her love for you,” Anya pointed at it and looked Lexa in the eye. Lexa opened her mouth to fight back and Anya beat her to it. “And do not give me one goddamn ounce of that ‘just friends’ crap you’ve been spitting around town, Alexandra. This is some next level romantic shit right here!”
“Have you considered the possibility that it’s next level best friend shit right here?” Lexa snapped back.
“No. I have not and I will not, because I’m your best friend and as a result, I can see both sides of this way clearer than you can. You two are in mega love and you have got to deal with it or it’s going to eat you alive!” Anya kept the pace and tone up.
“I know we do!” Lexa cried and threw her hands in the air. “But I don’t fucking know how!”
“Have you-”
“No! I have not talked to her about it!” Lexa snapped before Anya could finish.
“Hey, alright. Calm down. I’m sorry,” Anya held her hands up. “When did she give you this?” Anya pointed at the park map.
“She came over late after her shift on Christmas and we had Christmas together,” Lexa took a calming breath.
“You two were in this house on Christmas totally alone and she gave that to you and you didn’t fuck her?” Anya asked slowly.
“I don’t want to fuck her!” Lexa frantically waved her hands around again.
“Yes, you do!” Anya couldn’t stop her voice from rising.
“No, I don’t! I want to make love to her!” Lexa blurted out. “Or both at the same time. Or something in between. I don’t know what the hell to call it, but that sounds too harsh and it’s not gross like that! It’s something much more beautiful!”
“Oh, dang,” Anya gasped with wide eyes.
“What now?” Lexa huffed through a strained wince as she paced back and forth.
“This is some serious, serious love you’re in,” Anya replied calmly.
“What the fuck do you know about confusing, huge love that you’re trying to deny?” Lexa spat out and looked over her shoulder with scrutiny.
“Really?” Anya just raised a brow at her. “You think that I, the queen of refusing to call Reyes my girlfriend even though we’ve been together for like eight years and she will so very obviously be my one and only for my whole life, don't know anything about being terrified by how much you can love someone whether you want to or not?”
“I think that’s the first time you’ve said that without being blackout drunk,” Lexa paused her own ranting rage to glance to the side and rifle through her memories.
“Yeah, well, I’ve had to do a lot of thinking about my recent shitty behavior and what the hell I’m doing with my life over the past little while now, and I’m trying to be a better person,” Anya mock scoffed to brush off the severity of it all.
“I love that for you,” Lexa said with a genuine smile.
“My therapist does as well,” Anya sighed and rolled her eyes. “So? She gave you this outlandishly romantic gift and you two what? Played checkers after?”
“We talked and did our usual question thing,” Lexa muttered.
“What are you not telling me? You have holding-back-face,” Anya pressed.
“We talked about our exes and it was hard and weird and definitely not sexy,” Lexa relented.
“Oh shit,” Anya said with a sympathetic wince. “How’d that go?”
“She was way too cool about everything I went through, and told me what she’s been through and I’m even more scared of fucking things up now,” Lexa huffed and flopped back onto her bed next to Anya.
“Give me the bullets on hers,” Anya crossed her legs and sat up straighter to get into best friend strategist mode.
“Long term on again off again, super high passionate highs with very toxic lows. Went on for almost ten years,” Lexa cooperated but sighed nonetheless.
“What was the final straw?” Anya asked. “What’s the messy catch?”
“Her ex kept telling Clarke that she’d never be happy. That Clarke didn’t know how to be happy on a fundamental level. That she hadn’t dealt with her stuff with her dad, and that Clarke would never be happy because she doesn’t know how and she won’t let herself try,” Lexa grumbled. “So she moved back home to figure out if that’s really true and she’s a little afraid that it is and that she doesn’t know how to be happy and never really will be until she figures some stuff out.”
“Jesus Christ,” Anya mumbled and put a hand over her eyes. “You two are such morons.”
“What?” Lexa sat up indignantly.
“Look at how fucking happy you make her!” Anya cast a hand at Lexa’s night stand where the photo of Clarke in her patrol sweater sat next to a duplicate of the photo from the party that Lexa gave Clarke for Christmas. “How happy you make each other!”
“I’ve never been so happy,” Lexa shrugged shyly. “In the truest, realest sense, anyway. I’ve never felt so solid and good about myself to the core and I know it’s got to do with her.”
“Everyone but the two of you knows how mutual that is,” Anya said sincerely and clapped Lexa on the shoulder. “And I hope you can finally tell her that sooner than later.”
“I do, too,” Lexa sighed and let her eyes linger on the photo of the two of them.
On the other side of the mountain, Clarke sat at her desk in the Ski Patrol offices with her face in her hands.
She was exhausted from work and had been having trouble sleeping ever since she woke up with Lexa sleeping soundly on her chest. She couldn’t stop thinking about the feeling of Lexa pressed peacefully against her. She couldn’t stop thinking about all of Lexa’s sad smiles and furrowed brows of realization as they spoke about their past romantic lives. She couldn’t stop thinking about Lexa’s eyes full of tears when opening her gift, or Lexa’s lips when she grinned at all of Clarke’s quippy lines or the perfect tone of her voice while they shared heavy truths with one another.
She couldn’t stop thinking about any of it and all of it and needed more of it but didn’t have time to get it.
Every night Clarke laid awake typing and deleting messages that they should talk. Every night after she tried to sleep for two hours and couldn’t, her thumb hovered over the call button under Lexa’s name because she couldn’t get the images of Lexa’s strong back from the photos out of her head. The supreme mix of love and lust had Clarke one hundred percent out of sorts.
“Special delivery!” Raven cried as she burst through the office door carrying two coffees from the lodge. Clarke jumped at her desk. “Yikes, Griff. Sorry. You okay?”
“Yes, I’m fine,” Clarke sighed. “Just distracted and a little tired.”
“May I inquire as to the nature of your distraction?” Raven cocked a brow and accompanied it with a knowing smirk.
“We swapped stories about our exes finally,” Clarke flicked her eyes up at Raven.
“I’m sure that was very exciting in both directions,” Raven rolled hers and sat on the edge of Clarke’s desk and handed her one of the coffees. “I was kind of around for that. Anya and I had finally started hooking up around then, but they traveled so, so much those years that I didn’t see much of it first hand.”
“All this time she’s been saying she was so bad at being someone’s partner and I’ve been weary of that after what I’ve been through,” Clarke paused.
“Understandable,” Raven nodded.
“But that’s not even true! She had no trust. No foundation. No assurance that she was going to be okay,” Clarke muttered into her coffee.
“Which is just the beginning of the list of the things she has with you,” Raven grinned.
“Stop it,” Clarke scowled.
“I’m not going to tease you about it anymore,” Raven gave in. “In all seriousness, I’ve known you your whole life, and I don’t think I’ve seen you this happy since before Jake died,” Raven shrugged. Clarke put a hand over her mouth to quell the urge to throw up from too many huge feelings falling down at once.
“I’m a little overwhelmed by how true that is,” Clarke replied quietly and stared into her coffee blankly.
“I bet,” Raven scoffed playfully. “When will you see her next?” she added on optimistically.
“New Years Eve,” Clarke winced.
“Just a heads up? That party is going to be an absolute blowout,” Raven warned. “It’s an olympic year, so everyone who’s anyone will be there. The Gold Parties are internationally known and attended. Lexa’s currently ranked top in the world in all three of her events, so you might not get to spend that much time together.”
“Maybe that’s for the best,” Clarke ran her hands through her hair and tried to calm down. “I don’t even know what to say anymore.”
“Then I hope you figure out what to do instead,” Raven shrugged hopefully.
New Year’s Eve rolled in with gusto. Lexa was so busy getting ready for the party all day that she didn’t find time to sulk about missing Clarke all through the holiday week of Clarke’s double shifts. She’d done enough of it over the last few days, and the break from her own swirling thoughts and stomach somersaults brought a welcomed relief.
The Trikru house was decked to the rafters in gold decorations. The house vibrated with heavy, disco inspired house beats that a pair of DJs kept coming from the living room. Top winter athletes from all over the country, tons of reps and sponsors from other brands the team represented surrounded the kegs and dropped into the back yard park. Kegs and bottles flowed with excess and every last guest was covered in gold clothes and gold accessories.
“Yo!” Anya shouted at Lexa over the noise. The two of them had been passed from conversation to conversation all night long, both never truly relaxing and casually working. Lexa’s halfpipe one hundred was a hot topic, and Anya surprised everyone by being nothing but excited and supportive of her best friend pulling down a nearly impossible achievement.
Everyone was looking for tension and gossip between the two top ranked riders in the world, but there was none to be found.
“Yeah?” Lexa yelled back.
“How are you doing?” Anya asked as she settled into a spot beside Lexa.
“Alright,” Lexa shrugged. It was made more dramatic by her shoulder pads. She had gold leggings on, a sparkly gold bikini top and a ridiculous gold tuxedo jacket and a sparkly gold tophat on.
“You sure about that hat?” Anya flicked weary eyes up at it.
“It’s not mine. My Coppertone rep had it on and he just gave it to me. I cashed a two hundred thousand dollar check from them last week for my latest ad suite, so I thought I’d be polite and wear it for a little while,” Lexa chuckled.
“You’re so courteous to your sponsors,” Anya laughed and clinked her gold plastic cup of beer against Lexa’s.
“They do love me,” Lexa shrugged playfully.
“Hey, Woods! Where’s Ski Patrol?” the leader of an excited pack of rookies all totally obsessed with Clarke slurred.
“She had to work the night shift, so she’s gonna be a little late,” Lexa replied. She kept to herself that she’d been relentlessly checking her watch every few minutes since ten knowing that Clarke should theoretically be there by eleven-thirty.
“Look, man,” one of the rookies that was coming up quick in the halfpipe and spent a lot of time training with Lexa elbowed her and spoke quietly. “I know you and Clarke are like, whatever, and you say it’s not, but I’m rooting for you two.”
“What?” Lexa gasped.
“C’mon, Woods. It’s the same stuff you say to me in the pipe when I get frustrated that I’m not learning big tricks fast enough. It’s not just the one trick, it’s all the little steps. You always say that it takes as long as it takes,” the rookie grinned eagerly at Lexa. “Maybe your own advice is what you need?”
“Dude, I don’t know how many times I have to tell you that Clarke and I are just-”
“Hey! Ski Patrol!” One of them shouted. Lexa involuntarily glanced up at the parting crowd to spot Clarke across the room.
Her eyes flew open and her stomach fell right to the floor.
Clarke had on a skin tight, low cut, extremely short, sparkly gold dress. She wore layered gold necklaces and long, shimmering earrings. Her hair was styled huge and curly and accompanied with a ton of over the top party makeup. She wore gold pumps and every last inch of her exposed, toned, shapely arms, legs and cleavage was covered in gold glitter. She waved and smiled excitedly at someone calling her name and her bright red lipstick framed her teeth too perfectly.
“...friends,” Lexa’s voice cracked as she finished, then swallowed hard.
“Lex?” Anya asked carefully.
“Yup?” Lexa stiffened and tried to catch her breath.
“You good?” Anya kept her tone even.
“Not. Even. Kind of,” Lexa gulped.
“Let me know what you need, alright?” Anya asked intently as Clarke approached.
“Will do,” Lexa muttered.
“Hi! Happy New Year!” Clarke yelled excitedly as she approached.
“Clarke! You made it!” Anya matched her enthusiasm. “And may I just say in the most respectful way possible,” Anya swept a look up and down Clarke’s glittery ensemble. “Got dayum.”
“Thank you,” Clarke laughed shyly and glanced away with lidded eyes. It was adorable and sexy and perfect and Lexa’s mouth felt instantly dry. “I heard this party was a big deal and that everyone goes all out, so I figured when in Polis, am I right?”
“When in Polis, indeed,” Anya laughed. “I’m gonna go find Reyes and let her know you’re here. Kids! Someone go get Clarke a beer!” Anya barked at the rookies who all snapped to attention.
“Lexa! Over here!” a group of people not far off waved her over. Lexa glanced back and forth between Clarke’s mesmerizing golden glow and the folks beckoning her.
“Hi,” Lexa said quickly and awkwardly between glances.
“Hi,” Clarke said with a sweet and knowing smile. “Lot of work tonight?” She raised a brow.
“So much,” Lexa squeaked out through a wince she hid with a fake smile so no one would see it, but she knew Clarke could and would understand the layers. “That’s my Skull Candy rep, my Chapstick rep, my GoPro rep and a Sports Illustrated photographer. I just signed all of my contracts for 2022 this week and everybody’s here.”
“Then go over there if you need to!” Clarke encouraged her with a warm grin. “I’ll go get a beer with the kids and you can come find me when you have a second.”
Lexa hated it. She wanted it all to stop so they could just be together and enjoy it all, but she knew deep down that was out of the question.
“Are you sure?” Lexa asked, her eyes lingering on Clarke’s fake lashes and glittered cheeks.
“Of course! I get it, Lex. You and I see each other whenever we want. Go do your thing and find me in a little bit,” Clarke replied with confidence and leaned in for a quick hug that Lexa wanted to cling to forever.
“Alright,” Lexa nodded. Her top hat slid forward and she adjusted it quickly.
“The hat is a bold choice, but the rest is great,” Clarke joked with a flirty little smile. After leaning so hard into being genuine friends, the slip back into flirting pleasantly surprised them both.
“It’s not mine,” Lexa nervously rolled her eyes. She couldn’t remember if someone blatantly checking her out had ever made her giddy and anxious. “More work,” she added and pointed at it.
“I’ll see you in a few,” Clarke ensured her with a crystal clear smile before turning around and dropping it to a huge exhale with wide eyes. Lexa’s entire exposed torso pressed up against her own brought up too many conflicting feelings of their sweet morning on the couch and the familiarity of getting ready for work together mixed with wanting to run her tongue over every last ridge and curve of Lexa’s abs and chest.
She shook it off and put a pleasant party smile back on for the rookies holding up cups of beer across the room for her and calling out her name. The music was infectious and she was surrounded by friends. Clarke let herself get swept up in the joy of the wild party and pushed down her intense and confusing feelings so she could enjoy it.
At least a little.
“Hey! Clarke, not marketing but some high ranking patrol position, right?” Nilyah from Red Bull bumped shoulders with Clarke on the living room dance floor a little while later. “Niylah with Red Bull. We met at Lexa’s promodel party?”
“Yes! Hi!” Clarke replied after taking a moment to process who she was. “How are you?” Clarke stiffened up and folded her arms over her chest, suddenly a little self-conscious.
“Relax, I learned not to flirt with you very quickly,” Niylah joked and waved a hand.
“What do you mean?” Clarke asked with curious brows.
“Bridges let me know you are unofficially unavailable,” Niylah nodded towards Lexa over her shoulder.
“Oh,” Clarke immediately blushed and it showed through her makeup and glitter paint. “Right.”
“Hey, don’t sweat it. I think it’s great,” Niylah said slyly with an encouraging grin.
“Yeah?” Clarke asked hoping she didn’t come across too hopeful.
“Totally. Woods is awesome. Easily my favorite athlete in my portfolio. Don’t tell Bridges, but I’m pretty sure she already knows,” Niylah rolled her eyes and Clarke couldn’t help but laugh.
“She is pretty awesome,” Clarke sighed and couldn’t help but letting that smile that saved itself for Lexa sneak out as she watched Lexa across the way talking with her hands and motioning what could only be something about a halfpipe. Everyone around her gasped and then burst out laughing.
Clarke’s grin widened.
“Do you think you’ll be officially unavailable anytime soon?” Niylah quirked a conspiratorial brow at Clarke.
“God, I hope so,” Clarke sighed. She couldn’t shake the dreamy smile.
“I’ll be back for the Slopestyle qualifiers. I hope by then you’ll have good news for me,” Niylah chuckled. “Not just because it’s great for branding, but I love to see her so happy, too,” she tacked on with a goofy grin.
“Me too,” Clarke laughed a relieved and thrilled laugh at one more person who could see how happy they were together.
Lexa didn’t have much luck shoving down her own intense and confusing feelings across the room because she kept catching flashes through breaks in the crowd of Clarke laughing, dancing with Raven and tipping her head back as she took a shot with the rookies making one, long, pristine, delicious line out of her glittery gold neck.
With casual grace and patient inching, Lexa managed to work her conversations closer and closer to Clarke. She was near enough to hear her unmistakable laugh, and glanced up from the circle of pro riders from a big brand out west, and immediately furrowed her brow.
Clarke was talking to someone with their back to Lexa, and she was giving them that flirty smile that she always reserved for the two of them.
Lexa ignored the conversation around her and craned her neck to see who Clarke was talking to and sharing those laughs with and sharing those grins with and doing that shy thing with her eyelids that kept Lexa preoccupied long after the fact every time.
That was all supposed to just be hers.
Niylah turned over her shoulder and nodded a hello at Lexa, then turned back to Clarke.
“Excuse me,” Lexa blurted to the group she was with and pushed her way through the crowd.
“Hey! There you are!” Clarke beamed at her.
“Can I talk to you for a minute please?” Lexa’s voice was tight.
“Of course,” Clarke stiffened up at Lexa’s rigid shoulders. “Is everything okay?”
“Honedtly? I don’t know,” Lexa huffed.
“I can give you two a minute,” Niylah held her hands up. The packed room didn’t allow for much room to back away, and she awkwardly bopped to the music and tried to pretend she wasn’t there.
“It’s eleven-fifty-eight! Get ready for the count dooowwwn!” one of the DJs cried over the music.
“I thought you said the only rule to our question games was that we had to be totally honest with each other,” Lexa said quickly. Her jaw tensed with frustration. She was making herself crazy with want and confusion and holding back and pushing the wrong things forward.
“I have been totally honest with you about everything in and out of our games,” Clarke projected her voice in a firm and serious tone over the sound of the party.
“I asked you if you were flirting with my Red Bull rep at the party and you said no,” Lexa huffed.
“I wasn’t flirting with her at the party!” Clarke yelped.
“Then why are you using that special flirty smile that you only use with me? Why are you looking at her like that?” Lexa cast a hand at Niylah who unsuccessfully exited by moving two feet away before bumping into a stubborn crowd.
“I wasn’t!” Clarke put an innocent hand to her chest.
“I can see it! Everyone can!” Lexa threw her hands up. “You’re doing that laugh, and the thing with your chin that’s just mine! You said you only like to flirt with me, I mean come on! I don’t know how much more of this I can take, Clarke.”
“How much more of what you can take?” Clarke cried with panic in her eyes.
“Hey!” Niylah tapped Lexa on the shoulder.
“Not fucking now, Niylah,” Lexa barked.
“She was talking to me about you!” Niylah said slowly and loudly over the music. Clarke bit her lip and looked down at her feet at being outed.
“What?” Lexa squinted at Niylah, then looked over at Clarke who brought her head back up with a guilty, but somehow confident smile.
“She was using her flirty, lovey smile with me because she was talking about YOU,” Niylah poked Lexa in the chest, then took advantage of a break in the crowd to exit.
“Eleven-fifty-nine, party people!” The DJ sang out.
“You do your special smile when you talk about me?” Lexa asked carefully as all of the pieces fell into place whether they were ready or not. Clarke heaved a big sigh and despite the stress and the fear and the pounding in her chest, she couldn’t get rid of the smile in question.
“Yes,” Clarke finally admitted and felt so much better for it. “I didn’t know you had your own name for it, but yes. I smile like that when I talk about you. All the time. Always. With Everyone.”
“I do, too,” Lexa let out a surprised grin.
“You don’t know how much more of what you can take?” Clarke asked again gently. Lexa glanced away and summoned her courage and decided she’d had enough.
“Not having you,” Lexa finally sighed with the weight of it all shifting around them. The energy of the room building up to midnight, the excitement of turning over the new leaf into a new year with a whole mass of bodies and souls living hard swept them both right up.
“You already have me. I told you that,” Clarke tried.
“No, Clarke. I mean really having you. Having you be truly and honestly mine. Being able to finally say to you what you mean to me,” Lexa clenched her fists and avoided Clarke’s gaze as best she could but those blue eyes had her like a magnet.
“TEN! NINE!” The crowd screamed out around them and lifted the energy and buzz even higher.
“You tell me all the time!” Clarke, just as frustrated, tried to keep Lexa’s gaze.
“EIGHT! SEVEN!”
“No, I don’t!” Lexa shouted over the noise. “Not really!”
“SIX! FIVE!”
“Then go ahead!” Clarke tossed her hands up and got knocked from behind into Lexa’s arms who caught her like she belonged there and had been searching her whole life for that waist to put her hands on. Instinctively, Clarke wrapped her arms around Lexa with one hand resting gently at the back of her neck. If she wasn’t so overcome with explosive stress, Lexa would’ve savored it all.
“FOUR! THREE!”
“I’m in love with you, Clarke!” Lexa finally cried out. “And it’s killing me!”
“TWO!”
Clarke stared back with big eyes for a beat that made time stop and the room freeze around them. The music thundered into white noise in Lexa’s panicked ears and the waves of the crowd passed right through her chest.
“ONE!”
“I’m in love with you, too, Lexa,” Clarke softened into the most genuine, warm, heartfelt, perfectly soothed, calm grin. Her body relaxed in Lexa’s arms as the room swelled to the peak.
“Really?” Lexa swallowed hard as her panic evaporated.
“HAPPY NEW YEAR!” The crowd cried out.
Clarke pulled Lexa in for a frantic, hard kiss as quickly as she could at the exact moments that the rookies pulled the cords on the gold confetti glitter cannons rigged to the upstairs balcony railings. Lexa pulled Clarke closer and deepened the kiss. The party all around them cheered and screamed as little scraps of gold fluttered down all around them. Their friends all freaked out and pointed and made eyes at one another at Clarke and Lexa in the center of the room finally, finally, finally locked in a tight embrace.
“Clarke, I,” Lexa gasped as they pulled apart. “I don’t know what to say.”
“Maybe there’s finally nothing left to say,” Clarke smirked devilishly at her with one hand gripped on the lapel of Lexa’s sparkly tux jacket.
“But-” Clarke cut Lexa off with a slower kiss riddled with intention and passion and assurance all mixed together as an off key, sloppy version of Auld Lang Syne chorused around them underscored by heavy electronic beats that lead back into the dance mix.
“I love you so much,” Lexa expressed with a delightful blend of joy and relief when Clarke pulled back and rested their foreheads together. They had to break their lips apart because neither of them could stop grinning. Lexa couldn’t find any words for how good she felt in every possible way.
“I love you, too,” Clarke sighed. She switched to a flirty, growly tone and tugged Lexa closer by her jacket. “And once you’re done with all of this work, I’m counting on that cocky side to try to get me upstairs again.”
“You're such a flirt, Ski Patrol,” Lexa laughed low in her throat and kissed Clarke again.
Hey all! I’m super excited to announce that after over two damn years of working on them, the physical copies of Those Icy Fingers are ready! For years now I’ve had so many comments on TIF expressing how they wish they could print it out and have it on their bookshelf- well, now they can 😊
I made these books to model the same style of the original Harry Potter books, so I hope it feels like a natural sequel, sorta. Note that I don’t make any profit from this, nor does Lulu.com. You are paying purely for the print cost, for lulu to print and ship them, no different than if you printed these out yourself on a printer in your home and paid a store for the ink and paper you’d use to print with. These are not officially published books at all, it’s just fanfic printed out all pretty, and you can only purchase them directly through the links I’ll share below. I live in the US and for me, all together for the whole trilogy it came to $45 - including shipping. Shipping depends on where you are, typically it’s around $7. Lulu has print facilities all across the world including locations in the USA, France, Poland, Australia, the United Kingdom, Canada, etc. Here is a code I found that you can use for a discount too - WELCOME15.
I hope you enjoy <3 and that they look good on your bookshelf.
Those Icy Fingers Up and Down My Spine - TIF Book 1
Pages: 616 | Binding: Paperback | Dimensions: US Trade
That Same Old Witchcraft - TIF Book 2
Pages: 657 | Binding: Paperback | Dimensions: US Trade
When Your Eyes Meet Mine - TIF Book 3
Pages: 434 | Binding: Paperback | Dimensions: US Trade
Monthly fic update wrap up for Slopes! There are some mood boards and Lexa’s ads and head canons floating around and they are all tagged with “Slopes Extras” if that’s something you’re into:
Monthly update! One more one shot added to the “That Time Someone Said Something In Lexa’s Kitchen” prompt exercise, which are all at the top. All mood boards and head canon asks etc have the tag “QI extras” if you are into that sort of thing.
After that, all of the QI content in order of when it occurs in their timeline:
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