a laugh catches in the back of his throat at her words. sure, he wasn’t the most committal person in la, but he wasn’t about to throw her out of his bed, especially while he was enjoying the company so much. “what? you think i double booked myself or something like that?” he counters underneath his breath, his tone harmless and more playful than anything. he raises a brow, at her request but still reaches out to ghost his fingers along her collarbone anyways, “well, i sure didn’t see you complaining when i was complementing on how good you looked in that dress last night,” he’s pushing his luck here, no doubt, blurring the lines between what it meant to be exes and what it meant to be something else, but his romantic life in general was akin to a dumpster fire that he just never bothered to attend to.
“sorry to disappoint you, but there’s no free continental breakfast here at the calloway residence,” he added with a laugh, looking down at her, and with a small movement, moving strands of hair out of her face, lingering near her cheek for less than a second. he’s always been a person of touch, a connection to whoever he’s with. “and hey, i still think i’m grunge, or at least the magazines say i am. are you boldly assuming i’ve gone soft on you now?” he quipped with a trace of a smirk on bold features. “i swear, if i go in to record this week, and people start asking me about how the afterparty was, at the starbucks, i’ll start ordering online and under a code-name,” he’s grinning at his own stupid joke, “if christopher knew anything about what i do outside of cadence, he’d probably be uninterested at best, since i’m not the newest late night tv host’s guest each week,” he snorts, stretching his neck to the side. at this point, the amount of a following archer and his band had was just uncomfortable enough that he over-analyzed his social media posts and would have to wear a hoodie while out jogging, but at the same time he wasn’t just the kid who’s band sung on instagram anymore.
his words caught emma off guard, flushed cheeks an inconsequential side-effect of his words. “i mean - you couldn’t have planned last night ending up how it did,” she stammered. “unless you’ve got psychic abilities. or some really intuitive secretary that sees that we’re booked at the same event and blocks off your schedule in the event of a hazard.” hearing archer talk of last night had her thoughts spinning again, all rational judgement put on hold for a brief intermission of recklessness. “shit...speaking of that dress,” she murmured, dragging a hand along the floor in search of the garment. “you know what? fuck it. it doesn’t matter.” emma didn’t often swear, reserving her curse words for spontaneous occasions. it was then that she sat up to face him, pressing her lips to his in a moment of rare initiative before she resigned herself to the space beside him once more.
“no continental breakfast? looks like i should get going then. you know, now that you’re a big superstar my primary motivation in...uhm...staying over was to be served fancy food.” if she could she would tell him that the human contact was far better. it was a messy reminder of a simpler time. but, afraid, she resigned herself to jokes. “you’re right. you’re just so grungy. last night and this morning have been a testament to the accuracy of your no-fucks, punk rock, bad boy image,” she couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdity of her remarks, always one to challenge his public perception. “that’s brilliant, actually. we can both adopt monikers and take advantage of modern technology. if we do it right we’ll successfully avoid every prying eye that wants to know where we went after that dreadful third speech on the revival of shoegaze.” she paused for a moment, shutting her eyes to muster the courage to say her next words. “and just so you’re aware. the afterparty was by far the best part of my night. maybe my week.” or month.
archer sweeps a hand over exhausted eyes. he’d been working himself to the brink these past fews days, so the excuse to dress up in a button down and tie, actually make his hair look intentionally styled for once, and to make small talk with potential exec’s, was a very welcome distraction. not even mentioning how he ended up taking his ex girlfriend home, yet again. if he said he didn’t still feel things for her, he’d be flat-out lying, but if he wanted anything more than just this? the magic eight ball of his mind still says ‘foggy, ask again later’. he hums softly, almost unconsciously snaking his arm around her when she was next to him again. “nah, i think we have to do a interview circuit in a few weeks, but for now, i’m free.” he had to think about it for a moment, being probably one of the most unorganized artists’ at cadence, his schedule really was a blur sometimes. “hey, i like it when you ramble though, ‘keeps me awake,” and he’s laughing under his breath, leaning to press a soft kiss to her shoulder. “i agree, this bed is dangerously comfortable.” he settled back against the headboard, turning to look at her, “are you off today or do you have to go out and be an adult?”
a coy hand remained pressed to emma’s face, some bashful part of her still afraid to meet his eye-line. archer deserved credit, though. he was one of her few exes (and the only that she found herself repeatedly in bed with). there was still a comfort there...and she relished in the familiar feelings amidst a los angeles life that felt so unlike ‘her own’. “now that’s what i like to hear,” she mused boldly, liquid courage still running from the night before. “but please know you can terminate my temporary residence any time if you’ve got - you know, girls coming over or band practice or a meeting with the leader of the free world.” the last activity was an overstatement, but the sentiment still remained. “stop flattering me or i’ll end up stammering all morning long.” one shoulder kiss and there she was again, fighting the urge to say do that again with her whole chest. she once heard that setting boundaries was crucial to any break-up, but what about a hook-up or seven could be so bad?
“i underestimated how greatly success would change your sleeping arrangements. you’ve lost your edge...your grunge. i feel like i’m in a freakin’ hilton,” she joked, light laughter parting pursed lips. emma turned his direction, head inching against his chest as she was not yet ready to prop herself out of a sea of linens. “they gave me today off. it’s like they had some sort of premonition. maybe they knew i’d end up here. god, i hope not. i really don’t like to imagine christopher having any insight into my sex life.”
cuckoos chimed in soft song, blasting mellow tunes as emma creeped out of bed to open a window. her and archer had been broken up for a while now, the remnants of any label left in the dive bar where they both got their start. but she was notably bad at refraining from rekindling the physical aspect of their relationship, and after one (or five) flutes of champagne at an industry event the night before you better bet she got a bit nostalgic. “arch,” she whispered, slipping back into his bed. “you don’t have promo to do today, do you? i’m convinced that if i keep you from something cadence-related we’ll both have an apparition of paul johnson telling us off. he’s scarier than the paps sometimes, i swear.” worrying is a girlfriend activity, not a hook-up activity. snap out of it, emma. “i’m going to stop talking now,” she sighed, reaching a cautious hand around to to stroke his hand - light of his fingers touches coming out of a place of bravery before she became skiddish and they ceased entirely, again. “to be honest, staying here seems more inviting than facing the day.”
at the first response , cosima’s expression shifts to a frown . shes’s sure emma has a good reason –– maybe she’s busy , but as cosima goes through all the reasons emma may have denied her request , the other adds on and her facial expression returns to a smile , relaxing from her sudden ANXIOUS state , despite the fact that she was SURE the other would have a good reason . “ well , maybe not a bad thing , but i didn’t know if you were busy ! ” she counters , a smile on her face as she heads somewhere AWAY from the studios to sit and eat with her friend . “ ….nickleback. of all bands they want to sound like. nickleback ? ” she laughs out a LAUGH , shaking her head. “ i’m calling the girls right now and telling them that we’re changing our sound to mimic nickelback and only THEN will we be a true band. ” she’s laughing again , shaking her head. “ chinese takeout. sesame chicken, orange chicken. about fifty-two million egg rolls. maybe soup ? i honestly don’t know. they just starting putting a bunch of things in bags and apologizing for messing up my order. it wasn’t even a big deal ! ” she sighs , a soft smile on her face. “ you’re more then welcome to anything in the boxes. ”
emma studied cosima’s facial expressions, following them through waves of anxiety and torment all the way to a bit of genuine relief. it would be unlike her to hold any genuine distaste for an activity as wholesome as a shared lunch. with prying hands, she sifts through the bags. “i’ve been thinking lots about it actually. you could say that it’s tormenting me - i feel worse unease about this than when i saw hereditary, i swear,” she mused, barely sarcastic. “the only explanation i can think of is that they haven’t yet discovered the music of the cranberries or good ‘ol fleetwood mac.” emma couldn’t help the fit of giggles from spilling out her lips at the premise of vortex becoming some coverband, playing ‘photograph’ and ‘rockstar’ on an endless loop. “ooh...egg rolls and miso,” she exclaimed, wide-eyed. “it’s not something to brag about...but i think i can seek out vegetarian food like a truffle pig.”
“so i was thinking,” lux says, then scrunches her nose, “ha. me, thinking? always a bad sign, yeah? but — not what i was gettin’ at.” she grins at her friend before tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, grin wide and toothy as she tries to backtrack to her initial point. “was thinking i’ve not gotten to see your more recent work. and i’m not on about the ones showing up in all the magazines. those are brilliant, ’course, everything you take is, but do ya happen to have any new… passion projects?” lux’s eyes sparkle a little, leaning over as she mutters, “i remember how you used to talk about them. in the letters. might’ve been mailed a sample…?” her voice is teasing, yet still sincere. “could easily ’ave been a fever dream or such, though. else i swear i would’ve brought it with me to get an autograph.”
lux had a way of making emma feel warm inside. the kind of feeling that was last replicated on the shores of rhode island, sprawled across a gimmicky towel with some image of the beating sun. “thinking. god! i was banking on spending another week in the deep depths of mindless television and true-crime novels,” she joked, still aware enough to listen to the question that followed. “i had my heart set on creating some composite film with old super 8 movies. i found a bunch at a vintage shop. i spent a month saving up to have them digitised.” regretfully, this wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. “turns out they were some weird-ass, super old xxx films. i think it could be artsy - not really my cup o tea as you brits say.” do they say that? “anyway. now i’ve gotten started on another portrait series. i’m going to photograph everyone in my apartment building...with their permission of course. it gives me an excuse to meet the neighbors!” she felt pride swell in her chest at the mention of the letter and those old old collage fragments she used to mail along. “what about you, miss rockstar? what have you got cookin’?”
“favorite picture you’ve ever taken, go!” she had been on a break as she sat with her guitar. she questioned as she looked up from her guitar in her lap she was strumming absentmindedly. she had always been so curios about photography. she had taken way too many pictures to count of her friends to hang in her room. she was amazed by the pictures the girl would take in the studio and everyone, she wanted her to feel the same way. “dude, let me take your picture..?” she offered.
there was a certain silence that filled the air after max’s question. a gut-feeling that she should be modest. unassuming. maybe call it off after a quick shoulder shrug ‘they’re not that great’. yet she was feeling bold this evening and with a sense of courage that she seldom mustered she talked about her work with pride. “i took this one of ronan the other day. he looked happy - in a freakin’ genuine, real way. lately i’ve had this tendency to shoot my subjects when they look like victorian-statues. all serious and pensive. it was nice to get away from that, you now?” she rambled, stopping herself from spilling paragraphs on her shoots. “do you...umm...want to?” emma asked hesitantly, glints of hope in her eyes as she passed the camera her way. “alright. i’m bad at posing. what do you want me to do?”
there was a certain peacefulness that befell emma whenever she had shoots with ronan. it was a rare, precious time in which she felt free and open - untouched by the vapid nature of los angeles. there, with her crooked grin and her oversized jumper, she felt wholly free (a rare occurrence for a girl who spent most of her day fretting over the reception her images would receive from her finicky boss). “now turn that way,” she instructed with a throw of the hand and a flash of the lights. “brilliant, ronan. freakin’ pristine. you’re the meurent to me manet. the smith to my mapplethorpe. the - the, you get the idea. you’re the loveliest subject a girl could have.” there was a sanctity to those moments, broken only when she handed the images over to cadence per contractural agreement, vanquishing all rights to the label and whatever entities they were affiliated with. but she ignored that hand-off, in these few instances when ronan seemed so totally himself it would be a shame to ruin things with unspoken formalities. “you should be glad that those pre-teeny magazines aren’t getting ahold of you lookin’ like this or you’d be plastered on the wall of twelve year old in america.”
the sounds of her bracelets jingle through the halls of cadence , making her way through the building as she takes a much needed break from working in the studio . she had always been a hard worker , something that clearly ran in the chase dna , but she knew when she needed a break . turning a corner , cosima finds a good spot to sit and sets her takeout bags down , turning towards the other person in the room . “ hey , weird question but have you had lunch today ? i ended up with extra and i’m definitely going to eat all of it and i’m sure you know that it’s a CRIME to waste takeout . ” she speaks , giving the bag . small wiggle . “ only condition is that you have to eat with me . ”
on her lunch break and never one to waste precious steps, emma had been walking around the cadence halls for nearly half an hour now. she was seldom disturbed on her walks, besides for the occasional wave from a friendly passerby, and the silence was enough to have her daydreaming. she was jarred, quickly and startlingly, from her thoughts of springtime and incessant mental loop of nightmarish one-hit-wonder ‘mmmbop’. although she jumped, she should have been thanking cosima. “no,” emma replied timidly, gaining a foolish grin at the prospect of eating food other than microwaved ramen. “condition implies that eating with you would be a bad thing. i’d be thrilled to have an excuse not to eat in the studio. i’ve been taking pictures of a new band’s recording process all day. a bit of a nightmare, really. they keep yelling at the producer for not making them sound like nickelback. i didn’t know anyone WANTED to sound like nickelback these days. to each his own, i suppose,” she mused, fumbling through the bag. “what’ve you got today?”
it had been ages since he had been out by himself at a good dive bar, well at least it felt that way. with his album becoming bigger and bigger, it was hard for him to not run into a screaming fan or two. he had been advised to travel with security to avoid any crazy encounters but still, the Irish man craved his independence. so here was, late at night an almost empty hole in the wall dive bar. he sipped his whiskey open book in hand, enjoying being alone for once when he glanced up catching eyes with someone next to him. he offered a warm smile before asking, “what’s your poison?”
thumbs twiddling the toggle of her handheld camera, emma sighed in exasperated defeat. her files were corrupted, damning the photographs of an up-and-coming band’s most recent studio sesh to the deepest corners of her hard-drive. oh well. she would get on with things. exchanging passive glances she studied the other individuals at the bar - an old man downing a pint, a small woman, dressed in leather and lace, and a young man (a familiar face ??) reading a book. she nearly jumped when she heard him talk to her, warm but weary of near strangers. “rum and coke,” she responded. “ when i was a kid i always watched the protagonists of weird, old spy films drink the same thing. i think back then i believed that it was the super-potion of international detectives or something. i was in for kind of a let down in my adult life.” one drink in and she was already over-sharing. “i still drink it, though. it’s kind of just sugar on sugar, but i like it.”
JADE: tell me why old town road still slaps like months later
JADE: i’m abt to tell my band that we’re rebranding to a nu-country group
JADE: old town road remix #453458 ft. vortex
*pulls up in a mini-van* what’s good everyone i’m a (not like the ominous pretty little liars character, i swear) and this is my lil babe 𝖊𝖒𝖒𝖆 !! she is overall a ball of sunshine with a bit of hot mess thrown in there,,hopefully you like her. read below for some bullet-points and like this and i’ll hit ur dms to plot! discord is cheetos stan#7056
*i’ve been eyeing this rp for ages and f i n a l l y got the courage to join
diana silvers. twenty-two. cis female. she/her. | i can’t believe i just saw EMMA FOURNIER walking out of cadence records. they’re lucky enough to be an IN-HOUSE PHOTOGRAPHER at cadence records and they’ve been with the company for EIGHT MONTHS. it’s been stated at c.r. that they’re known to be STUBBORN but i heard they can be BENEVOLENT too and they seem to give off a vibe that reminds people of TEARING THROUGH THE DOG-EARED PAGES OF CLASSIC NOVELS. TWO FINGERS PRESSED TO THE NECK, JUST FIRM ENOUGH TO FEEL A PULSE. SIMON & GARFUNKEL’S GREATEST HITS PLAYED ON MOMMA’S OLD RECORD PLAYER. | a. twenty. est. she/her.
𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐠𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝
hails from the sweet cornfields of ohio. her parents were prime rural, middle-class folks,,sent her to a solid public school, loved her loads, probably packed her peanut butter sandwiches every day and voted for dodgy republican politicians.
she was their only child and they always adored her and thanked the heavens for her. honestly they were rather religious, church-goers. all was god and god was all. she was leading youth group from a young age, up there singing praise songs.
while she conformed in this way she’s always been an out-there, liberal, creative type among a social circle of folks that wanted her to have a good job and make some bank before getting married and birthing 2.5 perfect, all-american kiddos.
when she was sixteen she began to have trouble lifting objects, frequently shattering mugs of hot coffee on the tiles of her kitchen floor. she blamed this on being clumsy, but as the weakness grew worse and caused her to trip over herself she visited the doctor.
a few tests later and she was told she had facioscapulohumeral muscular dystrophy !! big word, scary disorder.
this caused her to question god quite a bit,,going from virginia in ‘only the good die young’ to a bit of a skeptic. her diagnosis left a void in her heart and she began to find faith in music and art and beautiful places instead of organised religion.
which brings me to her all-time passion,,photography! she bought a lil film camera at a second hand store (#trendy) to find something to invest in my god did her passion take off. she did portraits of basically her entire town and to be honest,,she was good at it. by the time she was eighteen she was shooting big gigs and hangin with musical acts.
screw college, she traveled and toured with people and now she’s working for the one and only cadence recordzz
now she’s living her fullest life, knowing full well that simple tasks are getting harder but praying upon art and life itself that she’ll have time to just be twenty-two for a little while!!
𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬
in a perpetual state of heartbreak from personal or world events. honestly she just takes everything to heart and it destroys her inside. a big feel-er!
will love you to the end of time if you are a loyal friend. will also make you a bracelet and scrapbook page probably. and a mix cd. and gift you flowers.
hasn’t had many relationships/hook-ups but went through a phase where she kissed half of the mississippi.
if she feels like you’ve been a jerk or done someone wrong she will never ever forgive you good luck
