#&.shea

[stellathcmpson-blog]

text || shea

stella: HELLO????? WHERE ARE YOU?

stella: SOS

[stellawestbrook-blog]

imessage: shea butter

stella: (former) birthday boy where tf are you

stella: barely even saw you at your party

stella: i mean ... also kind of blacked out so who really knows but

stella: about to send out a search party? blink twice if you're alive

[stellawestbrook-blog]

-- STELLA rested her forehead against the darkened glass of her father’s company-issued car, cheeks flushed, glad for the relief. she knew how she must have looked to the driver-- a young, mostly silent man meant to chauffeur her parents-- with a half-emptied decanter of scotch ( her father’s favorite ) nursed between her palms. maybe drinking hadn’t been the best idea. stella had reached almost absentmindedly for the bottle an hour earlier, amber liquid swirling against crystal, in an attempt to lighten the annoyance she felt itching beneath her skin. it was nothing, stupid, a facebook status she should have blocked. it wasn’t like stella had expected the entire world to go dark the moment she left julliard ( but maybe she had, just a little. ) so why did it sting so much to see a casting announcement-- swan lake, her role-- go to her peers? only the scotch had made her feel heavy, hazy. by the time she’d called the chauffeur, the trees seemed to sway dark green. 

fuck, she missed dancing, missed new york, missed the stretch of her calves as she pushed herself to pointe. the sense of control it had given her, how each limb had felt like an extension of a melody in perfect time-- until one day, they weren’t. and now she was here, indicating to her driver where to drop her off, the blinking lights of a carnival announcing her arrival. her lips pulled down, a small grimace marring her features, as she took a final swig from the glass. warmth buzzed through her stomach. 

shea had mentioned his work schedule a couple times over the past few days, mostly in grumbled complaints, so stella knew exactly where to find him, conscious not to wobble as she worked her way up the dirt path. it was only as she reached the latte stand, his familiar mop of blonde hair in sight, that she realized how many people were around, how bright the last remnants of sun shone in her eyes. her chest tightened. “hey.” fuck, did she sound drunk? a tap on the shoulder to grab his attention, a dimpled grin to seem casual. “i heard some kid was making really lopsided hearts in lattes. totally not up to standards. thought i’d see what all the fuss was about.” she hadn’t meant to interrupt his shift, necessarily. had just called the driver to take her somewhere, and, without a real plan, had turned that somewhere into shea’s side. “any chance you get a break soon?”

-- @shabernathy