#shevega

[beckact]

            a man of few words. until a few select things— and a certain vega sister— pull his patience thin. he’d just wanted a quiet lunch, one free from jade even, to study the script for an audition he had lined up this weekend. the opening was for a small role, but the movie itself was major.  industry-level. in-theaters. a foot in the door of the world he wanted to make his. hollywood. so his lines needed tending to with every free second he had.  worried isn’t the word. more determined, than anything. but it’s pretty hard to focus with an insistent buzzing near his ear, from behind ... beck.... beeecckkk... beck beck beckbeckbeck    ❝  WHAT,  trina,  what do you want. i’m kind of in the middle of something.  ❞   @shevega​​

[beckact]

 @shevega​  said:  “how’d you always know when i’m down?”

        a look around, wondering if anyone else wants to take a stab at the question of the day. she’d flailed all over the lockers next to him, rolling over each metal door like she was attached to the wall. making a scene the way she knows best. before practically replacing his locker row with herself. making it impossible to ignore her if he tried. and oh, does he try.   ❝  maybe because you stomp up and down the halls wailing and screaming ‘i’m sad’ at anyone you walk past?  ❞    just a guess. 

[beckact]

@shevega​ said:   “  you know, you’re actually not terrible.  ”

         oh,  the things he could say.  raised eyebrows at her sudden realization. stone-faced. looking around, searching for an ‘office’ camera to stare into before bothering to reply. ❝    it’s almost as if i was never terrible.  ❞  said like a matter of fact. an obvious  reality to him, but not to her apparently. the wave of fork as he digs into salad, feeding himself another spoonful while he pretends to be interested in her rationale. ❝    wanna tell me what changed your mind?  ❞

[beckact]

@shevega​  said:   “This isn’t Pinterest-y enough!” 

    not that he didn’t know how particular she was about appearances. just that he somehow kept being surprised by what levels of superficiality her antics reached. every time. now inventing new terms that don’t exist, it seems.  ❝   isn’t what enough?  ❞  a glance over the baked good, a classic napolean cake with classic white frosting. heartfelt icing that string letters together over its surface. furrowed brows, not understanding her outrage. uninterested  as usual.  ❝   trina, it’s a birthday cake.  you’re gonna eat it anyway, who cares what it looks like before you dig in. ❞  

[beckact]

“Oh, my god! I am so… hot!”

 ❝    uh.  ❞   a pause, deciding what route he wants to go. honest or white lie. before remembering  he doesn’t care.    ❝ beauty is in the eye of the beholder, i guess.  ❞