how many times has she said NO MORE VORTEX CLUB PARTIES? like literally said it aloud to someone else in casual conversation, or to herself in the mirror, or to her journal every night? it’s probably a comical number - - - or would be, if rachel was in any state to deal with any amount of numbers. back is pressed to the rough brick of the outside of the gym and if rachel stares at the stars long enough they start to blur and the sound of some shitty club mix some wannabee teen dj has blaring at the party inside is still overwhelming out here.
“it’s just like - bullshit, right? like, i go to all this, all this trouble to take care of getting them what they want, like the fucking weed and shit, and then nathan fucking prescott has the - the nerve to be, like, this section is vip only.” rachel doesn’t even remember opening her mouth to speak, but she is sort of cross-faded and a chatty drunk to begin with. a sniffle and rachel stares harder at the stars, “like, it’s a fucking highschool club party, a fucking VIP section? who does he think he is, right?” @jennibal
