@swallowpitted.
"i know we haven't talked in a while," (i miss you.) "and i know you must be super busy with your special and... everything at QVC and - i hear that dj's really breaking ground with her jewellery business, so - that's amazing -" (i've spent months silently scrolling her profile on instagram in hopes of seeing you again).
"oh god - i don't mean literally breaking ground, but - between you and me, i tried some of those earrings on and they almost ripped my earlobes -" (shut up shut up shut up).
"- anyway, i remember when we met and i made that joke about voicemails so... i'm gonna shut up real soon, i promise. but -" (things were simpler in vegas, less messy)
"- i kind of got into something and... well, long story short, netflix want a special. and i have no idea what the hell i'm doing out here..."
the last year's been a whirlwind. three friends (i have friends now) that may or may not have just been there because they spend trivia night in dingy bars which serve peanuts to men that absolutely have more bacteria on their hands than toilet water themselves, and three whisky sours later and there's a mic in one hand, a spotlight that she thinks is only highlighting a problematic t-zone (thank you kiki), and the stories spill out of her. they aren't jokes per se, but they drag laughs out like a reluctant confession. vegas was crazy, LA was even wilder - but somewhere in between there and flushed cheeks, there were tales that resonated somehow in treading that fine line.
six months later and she's in an office in toronto with jimmy on one side and a board of bbc america on the other. it's stuffy, and when she tries to speak, she finds her throat is dry enough for her to excuse herself for a quick ten for a smoke break. so here she is, knee twitching when she sits in the fire escape and watches the smoke curl around her fingers and talks into the void like some asshole on public transport: loudspeaker.
"netflix are offering 500k for a three special run, but - i don't know, i think it's kind of ego-death-y to turn on my tv and my face is just... right there, right? kind of crazy. and then prime are saying 700 for one but - i don't think it's as big a splash, right? no one watches prime and bezos can suck a dog dick, but that's like - so much money. for one? right? jesus, i sound insane."
another drag, and jimmy waves through the reception windows to pull her right back down to earth.
"shit, i - gotta go. but - like i said, i have no idea what the fuck i'm doing, and - i wish you were here. that's all. um - it's ava, by the way. call me? if you can."














