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▍ ˗ˏˋ ➛ ܁ . YOU HAVE ONE NEW MESSAGE ! @ghuliez : i left my purse at your place.
[ sms ⸝⸝ valerka ]ㅤ yes [ sms ⸝⸝ valerka ]ㅤ . . . [ sms ⸝⸝ valerka ]ㅤ oh, u want it back? [ sms ⸝⸝ valerka ]ㅤ i assumed it was a parting gift, a little souvenir for me after showing u a good time last night . . . [ sms ⸝⸝ valerka ]ㅤ like a fruit basket but with lipstick, perfume and free condoms instead of pineapple and shit [ sms ⸝⸝ valerka ]ㅤ should've known u wouldn't be so generous 💔
ִֶָ𓂃 ࣪˖ ִִֶֶָ🥀་༘࿐ " you've been bitching and moaning this entire fucking car ride about a little fucking scratch on your face. " ⸻ @ghuliez .
that little fucking scratch cuts deeper than the skin of his cheek. it lands somewhere ugly, somewhere he won’t name. pride, maybe. control. whatever it is, it stings worse than the blood drying tight against his face. he let her in. that’s the part that gnaws. ten miles of walls built up brick by brick, and she slipped through like it was nothing. no resistance. no second thought. just open door, come inside. he knows better now. knows it won’t happen again. a low breath drags out of him, rough and spent, as he digs a crumpled pack of marlboro reds from his front pocket. the familiar ritual steadies him; tap, pull, press it between his lips. the lighter sparks on the first try. of course it does. some things don’t fail him. unlike people. he doesn’t look at her. not once. doesn’t have to. the silence he builds between them says enough; cold, suffocating, deliberate and way beyond fucking practiced. welcome to the freeze out, valerie. hope you dressed warm. smoke slips from his nose in a slow curl, his cigarette hanging loose between ringed fingers as his gaze fixes somewhere ahead, distant and unmoving. “wouldn’t be no little scratch,” he mutters, voice low and edged, “if you could keep your goddamn claws to your fuckin’ self now, would there be?” the words aren’t even aimed at her. they just… exist in the space, heavy and final. the car drifts to the shoulder with a crunch of gravel beneath the tires. engine idling. tension thicker than the smoke curling through the cab. then, flat and without hesitation: “get the fuck out.”
✷ 𝄃 𝄃 𝄂 𝄂 𝄃 @ghuliez -> ⁽ 𝓥ALERIE ₎ .ᐟ ཋ -> 🐺 ˚₊‧ -> ⁽ 𝘁𝘅𝘁 ₎ — answer me coward.
⁽ 𝘁𝘅𝘁: 4:02PM ₎ out of everyone on earth... ⁽ 𝘁𝘅𝘁: 4:02PM ₎ like literally millions of ppl... ⁽ 𝘁𝘅𝘁: 4:03PM ₎ why am i the one u love terrorizing ??? ⁽ 𝘁𝘅𝘁: 4:04PM ₎ like ... dude ur girlies signed up for ts ⁽ 𝘁𝘅𝘁: 4:04PM ₎ not me !!!!
𝕹ikki, unfortunately or fortunately, depending upon whose side one happens to be standing has become something of a [ SCHOLAR ] in this field of Valerie's; She has seen this specific look aimed at bartenders, promoters, ex-boyfriends. & It always begins the same way.
@ghuliez : "LET ME TALK TO THIS FUCKING GUY" , ©
“ Val, hey HEY, c'mon ... ” Nikki arrives by manifestation, insinuating herself into the narrow, electrically perilous interval between Valerie and this man in particular with the seamlessness of silk being pulled through a ring. One moment there is the brute geometry of thread, [ ᴠᴀʟᴇʀɪᴇ ] all sharpened lacquer and venomous glitters, & The next, there is Nikki, hands set upon Valerie's arms, light at first, then steadying. This is benediction and restrain in the selfsame gesture. Neon unspools its bilious hue over chrome, over glass, over the sticky black surface of the counter; & music pulsing upward from beneath the floorboards like the heartbeat of some subterranean beast. INDECIPHERABLE, as though the very bar has been pushed half a second out of step with reality to accommodate the catastrophe Valerie is so visibly considering. [ AND CONSIDER IT, SHE HAS. ]
And nikki; she knows it. ( ... ) In the way her fingers settle with intimate certainty against her sleeves, tips her face up with that soft, eloquent composure. “ BE NICE. ” She says, & in lesser company, would mean nothing. [ BUT HERE? ] It is low, warm pressure set over a blade. “ He's just drunk. And dumb, it's fine. ” The dismissal is airy, almost blasé, & therefore all the more devastating, reducing the man to ambience, to some sad spill mopped clear of Nikki's mind. Her thumbs make the faintest movement, smoothing & peaceful, then offers a line that glitters like a lure cast into black water. “ I think you're so super, y'know, twenty percent prettier when you'reeeeee .. merciful. ” Coy, blooms to sweeten the air & driving its bright little hook home.
[ THE INSOLENCE OF THIS ] laughing audacity of telling a girl on the very cusp of vivisection that she could be prettier, prettier by percentages and principles. Then, Nikki's hands leave Valerie's arms to clasp beneath her own chin, a gesture so theatrical, so very much please-love-me-please-don't-do-anything-rash. She rocks once upon her heels, smile growing smaller now, less playful, more earnest. The kind reserved for stray cats, & now, sensitive friends. “ Please ? For me ? ” She says, sentence ripening into something tender. [ The funny thing about Nikki Freeman is just this ] : She has never been particularly good at debate nor the art of it. She is, however, exceptionally talented at standing directly in front of them with a smile bright enough to make it feel worthwhile.
i face regrets and plan revenge. ─── for alice!
EVERYONE'S A STAR, ACCEPTING ( ... ) FEATURING ALICE LAVEY & VALERIE WONG.
She could hear her father’s voice, ringing in her ears. Or at least, what remained in her distant memories of it. His stern voice and diminished accent, immaculately manicured form held together by only a suit, spun from the finest materials money could buy. Never let them see you lose, he had always said. It seemed to be the mantra, the business model. The foundation of life and wealth. The underlying message always seemed to be that you weren’t allowed to lose. Failure simply wasn’t an option, and taking no for an answer was unthinkable. In the same way that her father’s word was unquestionable.
Unfortunately for him, discipline and rule following were the two things God failed to weave into her the day she was born. What spawned from this was not a child they could love, but a symbol of unsuccess and barbarity. In her young, feeble mind, the next best thing to never letting them see her lose was to become the very face of revenge. She had cut her teeth by biting back ten times harder, picking up the slack where plain old karma simply wasn’t enough. She had put in her ten thousand hours, to say the very least.
❛ Oh, fuck regrets. We don’t do regrets here, that’s fucking stupid. Just skip straight to the revenge part and tell me who’s on your shitlist today, we've got plans to make. ❜
it's one in the morning. ─── for denver!
EVERYONE'S A STAR, ACCEPTING ( ... ) FEATURING DENVER KAPLAN & VALERIE WONG.
The tick of the clock seemed to elude him, more often than not. Night and day bore no real difference in his mind, and it was just as indistinguishable in his body. Insomnia was a fucking bitch, but time was bound to click by — with or without him. Nightfall was not without its pros ... the rest of the world fell asleep, and he was still here. Watching the sky shift and slide through an array of colors, thoughts racing alongside with it, as though they were trying to capture the last few rays of light and catching only the pinhole shaped stars instead. He liked the night. When things were quiet, and calm. When he didn’t have to pretend, and he could just … exist.
Such as now, for instance. He’s splayed across a concrete stoop, with the warm wet summer heat pouring over him, paying no mind to the fact that the sun was currently wading towards the other side of the world. Here, there's half a pack of cigarettes keeping him company, with slick skyscrapers blinking and towering over him like clusters of looming guard dogs.
❛ Yeah. At least it’s nice out. ❜ Denver chirps back, elbows resting on his knees as smoke curls out from between his lips. He doesn’t make eye contact, gaze trained firmly on the shadows in the glass panes of the buildings above.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ❛ So what are you doing out here this late, then? ❜
everything is better when i don't know what it means. ─── for star!
EVERYONE'S A STAR, ACCEPTING ( ... ) FEATURING ESTRELLA SALAZAR & VALERIE WONG.
Maybe ignorance really was bliss. Walking through the darkened, sweat-slicked hallways of life with a thick veil made of lace and lies draped across the eyes. Blindfolded from the truth. Bound at the wrists, dragged down only by the weight of the chains of hedonism. No responsibilities, no moral decisions to be made. Ignorance is bliss. Nescience is the root of all pleasure. Escaping from the mind, the body — all the while lacquered head to toe in pure apathy, indifferent towards any sense of self preservation. This was how she felt tonight, clad in latex rubber and lip gloss, miscellaneous tablets acquired from a stranger dancing past her lips and melting on the tongue. Fuck if she knew what she was taking. Not that it really mattered.
Not here, where the lights were dimmed beyond recognition and bodies thrashed to pulsating techno music in the depths of an abandoned warehouse. The chest-crushing 808s had cast its spell, and the crowd was quick to fall in line with the rhythm like soldiers keeping time during drills. Her pupils were blown wide, framed by a thick rim of glitter and black shadow, and all Star could do was laugh.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ❛ That's why my motto for tonight is : FUCK IT. ❜
⊱ ░ 𝖵𝖠𝖫𝖤𝖱𝖨𝖤 ₍ ? ₎ get the fuck out of my fucking face.
there's gotta be some sort of correlation between not being loved enough as a child ━━ and stupidly mistaking hostility for flirting. they more often than not tasted like the same bold flavor on his own tongue; most folks when faced with that tone would've had enough sense to tuck tail between their legs and scurry off. maybe mutter something under their breath when they turned [ ... ] maybe call her a fuckin' bitch once they got far enough away to avoid her wrath. BUT LELAND ONLY PUSHED OFF THE GAS STATION ICE FREEZER GETTING SWEATY IN THE HEAT TO INVADE HER SPACE EVEN MORE. the back of his arm cold, the cigarette tucked behind his ear precarious and patiently waiting to be lit... and he laughs.
actually laughs. ( short and sharp, ) entirely undeserved and the exact wrong reaction. ❛❛ yeah? who's gonna make me...? ❜❜
❛❛ ...you? ❜❜ eyebrows lift as he lets his gaze deliberately travel over @ghuliez. LONG AND SLOW. she's pretty when she's mad. pretty mean, too ━━ which is only half unfortunate. but never a full deterrent. she could'a just asked nicely. blues flicker toward her features once more as the corner of his mouth hooks upward [ ... ] and he shakes his head. ❛❛ nah. think 'm gonna stand right here while you tell me what the hell i did t'piss you off so bad today. c'mon val. was it somethin' specific or did ya' just wake up on the wrong side of the bed? ❜❜
