#drowndsoda

[salvcticns]

@drowndsoda sent — it’s too late for goodbyes, isn’t it? / ava & cat —

her eyes are stinging and there's an ache in her chest that she doesn't think will go away anytime soon. she turns away, pretending like something has caught her attention because she knows the moment she looks at ava she will crumble and say something stupid that will make ava stay. there's a lump in her throat, she tries clearing it with a fake cough. cat should be good at goodbyes by now. she's had enough people come and go in her life that she should have her farewell speech well-rehearsed. but with ava it was different. she would trade everyone in her life if it meant she could have ava by her side. it wasn't how life worked though. she was always waiting for the shoe to drop, just holding her breath till that day came. she just didn't think it would end this way.

"yeah, i guess so." cat kicks a rock by her shoe and sniffs. "you better go, wouldn't want to hold you up. probably got some fancy coaches and stuff to meet right?" she doesn't even say goodbye, she can't bring herself to. saying the words will feel too final so it's easier to not say anything at all. all cat offers is a brief wave before she leaves, rushing off as soon as she's out of sight, keeling over with ragged breaths leaving her lips like she's been punched in the gut. she was used to goodbyes but it didn't mean that they didn't hurt everytime.

[salvcticns]

closed for @drowndsoda

the air was getting crisper, leaves turning from green to warm autumnal colours and temperature slowly dropping below 50. hockey season was back up and running as evident by the young group of girls with their team hoodies on ordering half the menu. without meaning to, cat finds herself looking for her in the group of girls even though she knows she won't find her there. years too late, they haven't been that age in a long time, but it doesn't stop cat from searching anyways. she never finds what she's looking for and the solution was easy — a message or phone call away, but she can't bring herself to do it. what if ava had realised that she had outgrown the need for cat? that she finally realised that cat was the dead weight that would drag her down. the fear that their friendship had changed in ways that cat could imagine (probably due to no fault but her own) and become one-sided was always too big to actually let the phone ring so she lets everything unsaid pile up in her notes app instead.

she's clearing the table, fingers brushing over the underside where cat's engraved their initials with a star next to it. it's as jagged as she remembers, done with a steak knife and sheer determination. there's a scar on the palm of her hand from when she slipped and accidentally cut her palm. even if she managed to leave this godforsaken city, there's reminders of ava everywhere she goes, even in the scars on her body. she's more ingrained her life than she would know.

the bell jingles above the door, knocking her out of her thoughts. she sniffles and straightens up, acting like she's been wiping down the table all this time. "you can just take a seat anywhere. a table that isn't dirty obviously. i'll be with you in a sec."

[spicegrrrlarch]

the parties for fashion weeks were always brilliant but none touched her heart more than london fashion week. perhaps it was the sentiment of home, perhaps it was because her various famous friends were mixed into the crowd.. perhaps it was because she could tell her reporters outside to stop asking such naught questions and they'd laugh it off instead of taking such offense.

belinda greets people as she walks toward the bar, leaving behind her gaggle of punks to fetch herself a new martini - there, she claps eyes on a vaguely familiar face. familiar, she realises, as she winces from the din of fresh models squealing about the music sensations in the room, because a girl at her charity had come in asking to stick the woman's poster up on a wall.

" now, have you been asked what colour your knickers are too? or is that a unique experience only i've been subjected to? " @drowndsoda

[spicegrrrlarch]

her jelly heels are sticking to the floor as she weaves through the crowds, a vision in glitter and pink - her hair's done in an intricate display of butterfly clips and glitter spray, she's having a whale of a time despite having lost her skoda deep in the crowd earlier that evening - perhaps he was already up djing.

either way, crystal doesn't dwell on it long. he'd never leave without her.

stepping out into the cold night air, suddenly she regrets the significant lack of decent clothing, but necks back the last of her neon blue breezer to negate that. looking into her small purse, she gasps. blue eyes swivel, settling on a safe face, someone who actually -- had they been at pre-drinks?

" oi, babes - you gotta cigarette? can i bum one off ya? my boy - mate's got mine i reckon. " @drowndsoda

[facrie]

@drowndsoda: look me in the eye and say that again. // ava && talbot

“ i said you play like a rookie, ” talbot says again, while he looks her dead in the eyes. he takes the puck from her immediately afterwards and shoots it past her to get it in the goal. “ you gonna beat me up about it? 'cause i'm tellin' ya, ya don't stand a chance, ” he continues, city oriented, but still southern drawl showing itself on the end of each word.

he looks too smug for her to just take it and he doesn't expect her to. she doesn't seem the type. maybe that's why he'd prodding. he wants a reaction. it's why he grates on most people's nerves, if he's being honest.

“ you gonna stand there the whole time or actually play? ” he queries as he skates away. to tell the truth, talbot has some rookie tendencies himself. he's too confident. maybe cocky is a better word for it. he plays like he's never had someone put him in his place and, at this point, it's a problem. he's good, but he thinks he's better... and, to be fair with her, he is an nhl player, while she's a student. also, she shouldn't take it personally. he's mean to everyone. “ ...hey, are you gonna cry? ”

[completemesses]

@drowndsoda said: that's a real fucking legacy to leave. (mia & gunner)

tears sting at her eyes & blur her vision, throat tight with that overwhelming urge to let out the sob residing in there. mia feels like she lingers on the edge of this often with gunner; clearly not enough times to make her stop coming back for more. a mix of frustration & genuine hurt tonight. gunner has a point & she knows it; she can't keep hiding forever. she can't keep hiding them forever. mia's just as sick of herself as gunner is getting.

"fuck you." it comes out choked, like the words almost get caught in her throat & she has to shove them out, & her palms press into their shoulders to shove them out of her space. "you wouldn't get it." it's a weak defense. she doesn't have a good excuse to follow, the rest of her argument drown out by the taste of salt on her tongue.

she keeps herself in this box for selfish reasons— she knows what all of her friends would say if they knew what she likes, who she likes... she inhales shakily & reaches to wipe at her eyes, cheeks flushed with equal parts frustration & embarrassment. the box she keeps herself inside of is safe, comfortable, reliable. gunner is a tornado stirring inside & tearing it all apart. "it's not like you'll be around for it anyway."

[facrie]

@drowndsoda: what's that smell? something's burning. / marcy && gwen!

marcy mentions something burning. it's not until the smoke hits gwen's nose that she smells it, too. the rosary in her hand drops to the floor, melting as it struggles to catch flame. gwen's never looked so scared in her life... which is saying something because she scares quite easily.

“ ow! w-what the hell? we're getting the f-fuck out of here, ” she sputters over her words, desperate to cling to reality and some sort of explanation for what she just saw. she immediately goes to grab her things— bags, cameras, whatever she can hold onto and get quickly. she knows she shouldn't waste her time, she should run, but no one's going to believe them otherwise. she doesn't even care about the burn on her hand. “ just— just leave everything else! ”