“but, darren,” cruz whined dramatically, though the corners of his lips betrayed him by curving into a smile. maybe puppy dog eyes would work instead? so, his eyes softened — a forced pout tugging on his lips. he’d royally screwed up by borrowing a nice white button up from a friend and deciding to eat pizza in it. cruz should’ve known better, he was a notoriously messy eater. the only person who could save him now was the blonde in front of him who was standing her ground. “you’re my last hope, darrien,” he all but pleaded, “if you do this for me, i’ll bring you free bouquets from the bloom box every week for a month.” he raised a brow, flashing her a grin, “what do ‘ya say?”
" BUT NOTHIN' CRUZ , and don't you try , , , " but in the second she took to tuck away her hand mirror and adjust her bra , he had done exactly what she was about to warn him NOT to do . " — that fuckin' puppy face . christ , you really look like you're straight outta one of those 2000's aspca commercials . just , , , fuckin' hell , pup , knock it off . " to emphasize her point , darien practically climbs atop the counter to reach out a manicured hand to shield his pleading eyes from her ( though unspoken , unadmitted ) susceptible gaze .
at his offer , she tilted her head back and groaned . when was the last time she was given flowers ?? even if it were only due to them being a bargaining chip ?? , , , did she even LIKE flowers ?? " 's not that i don't wanna , sug . i jus' ain't got a clue how to do it . i ain't have the supplies , neither . you know , the chemicals 'n' shit . " she drops her hand , reaching up to tighten the unkept knot atop her head , frowning at him . stupid brown eyes . always had a way of gettin' to her . with a resolved sigh , she pressed the heel of her hand to her scrunched forehead . " look , doll , i'll TRY. i'm sure with some , , , bleach and , i dunno , cleaning shit — it'll look fine . " ren folds her arms , narrowing her already squinted gaze even further . " i can't promise ya nothin' , but if you stop fuckin' look at me like that , i'll give it a shot . "
auggie let out a sigh, but not of annoyance but rather of defeat. they stood with a bunched up suit and dress shirt in their hands, paired with a frown on their face. " well ... shit. " they answered, mostly to himself as he glanced around, as if the answers would somehow be written on the walls of the laundromat. " do you know anywhere else then ? my suit has been in the bottom of a moving box for ages and looks like this. " they held up the wrinkly mess, frown only deepening.
DARIEN DIDN'T OFFER ANY SORT OF APOLOGY , aside for the tilting of her head and the pursing of freshly glossed lips . instead , she offered a shrug . " sorry , peaches . you're welcome to use the washer and dryers , though . they work just fine . " maybe ' just fine ' was pushing it . they WORKED ; that was all .
she went to turn away , busying herself with picking some lint off her tank top , before his question spurred her to glance back . slit brows pinched in the center of her forehead , something akin to disgust crossing her face . like she had eaten something sour . then , bitterly ; " don't 'suppose i do . " however , with a disgruntled sigh , darien shot a look to the pathetic condition of the suit in his hand . she puckered her pillows into a pout , head tilting the other direction than it had before . " i can , , , wash n' iron it for ya . " darien offers . her attempt at a compromise . " - can't do the dry part of dry cleanin' but , , , i can do it by hand ?? if ya need it that bad . take it or leave it . "
"A mess?" he parroted indignantly, as if sugar wasn't actively crystalizing in his hair. "I'm hand -" Handsome was what he was about to say, an emphatic and boastful hand pressed to his chest even before Darien was yanking him away from the teetering edge of the curb. A squawk erupted from Ford instead, melting into a grumble while he obediently stumbled after her, feet feeling like a pair of dumbbells. He'd definitely overdone it tonight, liquor gripping him both mentally and physically, and certainly acting as the catalyst for his little 'slushie' encounter.
Ford rolled his eyes while trying to wriggle free from Darien's talons, scoffing flatly, "She was boring. Tryn'a crucify me for makin' a joke." 'Sexual innuendo' was a more apt descriptor, and he'd stepped on the poor girl's toes at least twice, but whatever! He apologized, at least... wait, had he? Ford's brows pinched with intense thought, club memories already a haze of sweat and strobing lights that made him mildly nauseous. "Eugh, gimme one of those," he said, nodding to the crushed carton in Darien's grip. Just to make sure he got a cig, he met her gaze with a comical widening of his eyes, chin raising. "I'll shake," he threatened, ready to act like a wet dog and spray booze everywhere.
" YES , DIPSHIT . A MESS . 'n not even a hot one , " darien scolds , using every muscle in her five foot three inch frame to lug the taller man away from the curb . once tucked beneath the sanctuary of an awning , darien released her wriggling pet , digging into her push up bra to find the lighter she had shoved in there . ren's brows come to a pinch , delivering a judgemental glare to ford in her peripheral , before painted eyes rolled with annoyance . " lemme guess . i bet your joke was sooooooo fuckin' funny she lost all control of 'er damn limbs and ' accidentally ' threw her overpriced slurpee all over you . " sarcasm dripped like marmalade off her forked tongue , finally finding her bedazzled lighter ( though half the rhinestones had fallen off by now ) and securing it beneath her leopard print strap .
she finally draws a cig from the mangled carton , securing it between her lips , moving her painted fingers to tug the lighter from its holster . his words , more so his threat , give her pause . darien slowly looks to him , expression like steel as it cuts sharp in his direction . she grits through clenched teeth , clamped around her smoke's filter . " don't . you . even . fuckin' . think about it , ford hollinger . i'll end you so quick the DEVIL will shit himself from how fast you drop into hell . " yet , she shoves the carton at his bicep anyways , cupping her now-free hand around the tobacco side of her marlboro red and lighting it .
Reza’s hands immediately shot up, his eyes widening. “I get them mixed up half the time, I’m sorry!” he frowned playfully. “To me, they’re just ‘The Flamingos’ as a collective. I’ve never heard of anyone who names shit that isn’t their kids or their pets, truthfully. I’ll be more mindful in the future, I promise.” He assured his client, taking a swig of his water as he listened to her continue. At the mention of Darien getting a new trainer—something he’d definitely heard before, his eyes widened once more, feigning appallment. If he had a nickel for every time she said such a phrase, he’d probably have enough to afford to repaint every wall in the gym a more appealing color. “No, no, not at all!” he chuckled, crossing his arms over his chest. “If anything, you’re very…” he trailed off, looking for the appropriate word. Being bilingual had its perks, but forgetting words was definitely not one of them. “You’re very bold, in…a lot of ways. I’m probably not the first person to tell you that, but you should hear it from me.”
DARIEN GIVES HIM AN ALMOST HORRIFIED EXPRESSION , disgusted by the implication her beloved lawn decorations were nothing to him but a mere — " collective !? god , you're a dick . a real dick , you know that ?? i fork over my hard earned cash so YOU can make a livin' and you call my babies a collective . like some kinda dystopian type bullshit . " she doesn't retract her nail until he continues speaking , twisting it so the material of his shirt spiraled beneath its tip .
at reza's attempt at a compliment , darien's brows furrowed . " , , , bold ?? what in the fuck does that mean ?? " offense overtook her expression , not quite insecurity but something akin to it steering her to take a step back and adjust her sports bra . was it her boobs ?? with a huff , she then dramatically sat down on the padded bench , folding her arms across her chest — a peeved bird puffing its feathers . " yeah , i should be hearin' it from you , , , yet you get to see me bent over like i'm in some ninety-nine cent porno mag and all you can come up with is BOLD . don't you speak like , twenty languages ?? can't you call me somethin' pretty ?? " she scrunches her nose ; " — or 'least tell me my ass is gettin' bigger so these damn awful squats feel worth it . "
There's something about Darien, maybe it's the full 'tude she's got going on, that rubs Ishita the wrong way, but at the same time, she kind of respects the whole vibe the other has going on. No bullshit, and no high-pitched customer service voice coupled with a fake smile. A brow raised when they finally finished applying their lip gloss and Ish nearly commented on it before her expectations for clothes service were dashed.
"What, seriously?" she couldn't help but ask, despite the obvious— Darien was not joking. "You're the only laundromat even remotely close to me, and you don't do dry cleaning?" Ish adjusted the few over-priced yoga sets she held on her arm and sighed. "You can't even, like... try? I mean I know you tried before, but you can totally just google it or something. It can't be that hard."
DARIEN SHRUGS . SHE FIGURED IT HAD BEEN BETTER TO BE HONEST BUT , , , GUESS NOT . " you got the money to fork over to hire someone that knows how to do it ?? i got laundry machines or drop 'n' go service . ran outta duck tape to cover up the sign . " she had needed it to ' repair ' one of the drying racks . running a business in this economy was impossible .
she stood straight , folding her arms across her chest , eyeing the athleisure in the woman's grasp skeptically . " i mean , shit , i can try but , , , i ain't got the funds to replace those if google ain't the keeper of all things laundering . " then , holding out a hand , she wiggled her fingers . " lemme see 'em . pretty sure i got a pair or two like that . might be able to help you . you some kinda yogi or somethin' ?? " darien was coming to learn that's precisely what this town's occupancy consisted of . even the trailer park was cleaner than anything she knew back home . it explained the taxes .
"you're welcome. i'm glad that i could help you out with something. maybe you shouldn't have something up on the sign if you can't actually do it properly." she shrugged her shoulders as she looked at the woman who was now giving her attitude. isabella was nice until someone decided to fuck with her and then she didn't mind giving it back to them.
"well clearly you're the cheapest if you're offering dry cleaning and then telling customers that it's not good and they're going to regret it if they go for it. i mean you don't have to tell people all that but since you're so open with speaking the truth about your shitty dry cleaning then maybe you work for the wrong place." bella replied to the woman and then shrugged. "depends, what do you have that i can offer some feedback on?"
DARIEN'S GRIN GREW WICKED , ears twitching as she fought the urge to rip out her hoops and lurch across the counter . this lady , bitch , whoever she was was lucky mr. highschool was on break — otherwise she'd pull her by her hair out back and stomp those pretty white teeth against a curb . she laughed , hard , and slapped her palm against the counter . " well ain't you a peach ?? so sweet , i wanna tie you 'round my tongue like a cherry stem . " customer is always right her ASS .
intensifying the weight of her taunting grin , darien leaned into her palms , torso leaning over the counter as she shortened the distance between her and the tightwad on the otherside of the linoleum counter . " maybe i outta clean your panties for ya — since you got 'em shoved so far up your ass . i bet they're in need of a real deep clean . " she's practically itching to fight , begging with wild eyes for the woman to strike first so she could plead self defense . " — that's a service i'll offer . i'll even give ya a discount since my services are soooo god damn shitty . bet them and your draws got a lot in common . "
" YOU AIN'T LISTENIN' , " darien huffs as she haphazardly drops the dumbbells she had been using , chest heaving as she takes a much needed breath , lungs seeming to whine from how desperate for oxygen they were . she nudges one of them with her toe , making a face when it doesn't budge ; had those really been that heavy ?? fuck , was she 'bout to start lookin' like she was on steroids ?? blinking through the momentary fog that had shrouded her vision , she delivers a leveled look to reza . eyes narrow into slits , a manicured finger pointing at him as her other hand finds a home atop her hip . " i told you they stole jerry . malibu 's jus' fine . if you don't care enough 'bout my babies to remember their names , just fuckin' say that . "
obviously — she was talking about her plastic lawn flamingos . again . darien steps towards him , pointer now coming to poke reza's sternum , glaring up at him with a portrait of peevishness on her flushed face . " want me to find a new trainer ?? " a threat she had made a hundred times . " — 'cuz i will . next , you're gonna be tellin' me i'm UGLY . is that it ?? you think i'm ugly , rez ?? "
a 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐫 for 𝘙𝘌𝘡𝘈 𝘔𝘖𝘙𝘈𝘋𝘐 set at 𝐩𝐮𝐦𝐩𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐠𝐲𝐦
( @gentlencss )
stress levels are blown way past an all time high. emmanuella feels like her head might just lift clean off her shoulders … right in time with the sharp snap of her compact mirror. but life with two younger brothers, who she basically raised as her own, has prepared her for moments like this. because even as her blood pressure spikes, heat stinging at the back of her neck and the tips of her ears— there’s nothing across her face but an understanding smile. “well, i can appreciate that. if this dress gets ruined… my job might be ruined.” a sigh follows. not from frustration, not really. more the kind that slips out from holding herself together for too long.
“do you guys offer regular cleaning services?” she softens her approach. as a practical, hopeful tone will magically change their policies. “just your standard… i drop off a load, or four. you wash, dry, fold? because that would really help me out. i’d be willing to pay up front.”
DARIEN OFFERS A LAUGH , unsure if that had meant to be a joke or not ( either way , she didn't really care enough to supress her ' amusement ' ) before turning her attention to the old-fashioned register . she poked mindlessly at the number keys , which gave a noisy , resounding CLICK with each tap of her manicure against their yellowed caps . she half listens , tilts her head , but doesn't shift her gaze . darien shrugs her shoulder . " sure , 'spose i could do that . i ain't got shit else to do . " dry cleaning may be on the sign , but hospitality sure as hell wasn't .
plucking a guest check pad from beside the register and a shit pen , darien taps its ink nib against the tip of her pink tongue and pops her hip . " load or , , , four . kaaaaay , you bringin' whites ?? want 'em bleached ?? what exactly are you tryna get cleaned ?? " ren looks up , boredom painted on her expression as her eyes almost seem to glaze over , rolling her lips together . " riveting questions , i know . just wait 'til we start talkin' bout your delicates . "
" SHE SAID NOT INTERESTED , YOU DUMB FUCK , " came darien's clipped words , spoken around a tooth pick ( that had just been speared through a lime ) clenched between her teeth . when the man hadn't taken her seriously , using her knock-off handbag as a weapon , darien swung the faux leather at the pervert getting too comfortable putting his hands on sydney , a look flashing in her eyes that instilled the fear of god in him as it struck his outstretched bicep — sending the geriatric shithead retreating with his hands up and tail tucked between his legs .
with a disgruntled huff , darien turned her head to the other , withdrawing the toothpick only to point it at sydney as if it were a poison dart . " you needa stop bein' so nice to strangers . or quit talkin' to 'em period . " rolling her eyes , darien finally took the whiskey shot she had ordered , only to crush the plastic cup unceremoniously on the bar top afterwards ( earning her a hard glare from the bartender ) . swiping her thumb along her lower lip , the blonde huffed . " you're too pretty for that shit , syd . you and your brother , swear to christ — gimme nothin' but a headache . "
a 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐫 for 𝘚𝘠𝘋𝘕𝘌𝘠 𝘏𝘖𝘓𝘓𝘐𝘕𝘎𝘌𝘙 set at 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐮𝐥𝐬𝐞
( @incomparcble )
isabella had a few things in her closet that she didn't like to wash in the washer machine so when she had heard of a place now offering dry cleaning, she was surprised and she decided to check it out. as she went out to the laundromat to see what it was about, the person worker had been quite honest with her about not wanting the dry cleaning service. she nodded as she looked at her and then shrugged. "well see, i feel like having it on the sign for looks but not honoring it is going to harm you more than it will help you, but if you've been doing well with explaining this to people then i say go for it."
UNIMPRESSED WITH THE FEEDBACK , darien cocks her slitted brow higher . an almost amused sound abruptly leaves her throat , the sound lingering between a laugh and a harsh scoff . " thanks for the advice , cupcake , " she all but sneers , smile taught and tone syrupy sweet ( like that of an artificial sweetener ) . standing straight , darien slipped the pocket mirror into her bedazzled back pocket , the tube of gloss quick to accompany it , before she blows a rogue lock of hair from where it had fallen between her brows , , , only for it to flutter back down to the same spot . a hand plants itself on her hip , thumb hooking through the loop of her low-rise denim .
" you always goin' around givin' unsolicited business advice ?? " her head tilts , her tone is serious . then , she sighs — like a disappointed parent . " look , babydoll , ain't no other laundromat in this town as cheap as us , , , but feel free to go find another if we ain't meetin' your expectations . " less sincere , irritancy peeking through the gaps of customer service . " — got anymore feedback for me , sug' ?? "
matteo doesn’t flinch under ren’s glossy glare, doesn’t so much as blink when the mirror snaps shut like a warning. he just leans an elbow on the counter, fingers drumming steady against the wood, dust clinging to the sleeves of his faded flannel. his hat’s pulled low, casting a shadow across his face, but the corner of his mouth quirks like he’s more amused than anything else.
"i ain’t askin’ for runway-ready, alright?" he says, voice even, with a slow drawl that suggests he’s had this conversation before. "i need jeans that don’t fold when i squat, don’t rip when i climb over rusted wire, and sure as hell don’t cling to me like i’m struttin’ through town for attention. heavy starch makes ‘em last. makes ‘em hold." he shifts, thumb hooking through a belt loop of his work pants as he adds, "these aren't for sunday best. i’m rebuildin’ half a damn fence on riley’s north field. sand, sun, and nails bigger than my thumb. jeans don’t hold up, i get splinters in places i don’t wanna talk about."
he lifts his gaze to ren, calm but firm. "so yeah, i want the starch. if you won’t do it, i'm sure someone else in town can take my money?"
HEAD TILTS , LIKE THAT OF A CONFUSED PUP'S , before black painted lashes are fluttering ; darien is nearly dumbfounded . what was it with MEN and jabbering on and on ?? why were they so fond of hearin' themselves speak about nothing ?? she stopped listening about halfway through ( grateful she hadn't gotten her mama's lazy eye ) , continuing to roll her lips together , feeling the smear of gloss . then , separating the sticky pillows with a POP , darien drops her elbows onto the counter and cradles her chin in her palm . a look that seems to convey ' are you finished ?? ' crosses her face , before she releases a long drawn exhales . ( not without muttering a " jesus " under her breath . )
" sheesh , matty-boy , jus' tryna be honest , " she drawls , drumming flamingo pink acrylics against the curve of her cheek , tongue probing at the point of one of her canines . " don't needa hear 'bout your ball splinters , just gimme the damn pants . fuck sakes . "
open. capping at five!
location. the pulse
when. late night
A shove and Ford was stumbling out a side entrance of Pulse, tripping over his own feet and twisting around, mouth opening wide to make an undoubtedly clever retort at the bouncer who was unceremoniously ejecting him from the club, but the door had already swung shut. Well. He scoffed, plucking at the sticky front of his shirt -- cherry red daquiri was all over him, still dripping, even from his hair. Turning, Ford stopped short when he caught sight of someone else loitering in the alley as well, a bubbling, manic sort of chuckle rising up in his throat. "You should see the other guy," he quipped with a slanting grin. This was not his finest moment.
KITTEN HEELS CLICKED IN SYNCOPATION WITH HER JAW AS DARIEN TRAIPSED BEHIND FORD , manicured hand digging through her off-brand louis bag as the other tugged down the hem of her mini skirt . she swats at the bouncer urging her out as well , flipping a bird at him before stomping towards her fellow scoundrel . " you're a fuckin' mess , " she grit , withdrawing a man-handled carton of cigarettes as she delivers a leveled look in ford's direction .
" fuckin' hell , ford , " ren huffed upon hearing him talk to the random man on the side of the road , releasing her cheap denim to grab at his bicep , stiletto nails pinching his skin as she tugs the man towards her like an untrained dog on a leash ; bringing him to a heel . " can't take your ass no where . the hell you say to that girl to have her dumpin' slushee all over you ?? i was this , , , " she pinches thumb and pointer together . " — close to beatin' her ass , 'n she was prolly right to cuss you out . " a tighter narrow of her eyes , then a sharp smack delivered to his arm . " 'n stop talkin' to strangers !! 'specially when you're boozed up . you sound stupid . christ . "
" LOOK — I KNOW 'S AN OFFERED SERVICE , , , but you don't want it , " darien insists , reapplying her lipgloss in the reflection of the pocket mirror balanced atop her palm , speech muddled from the application . after careful inspection , and a nod of approval , she closes the mirror shut with a SNAP . ren turns her head , a wild head of bleach-blonde curls bobbing from the pathetic bun she had put it in . a slit brow quirks , sticky pillows rubbing together to spread the glossy product as she seems to size them — and their request — up .
" i got it on the sign for looks — i don't know shit about dry cleanin' . last one i tried was so starched it didn't move a lick . trust me , doll , i'm doin' you a FAVOR by sayin' no . "
an 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐫 for 𝘋𝘈𝘙𝘐𝘌𝘕 𝘋𝘈𝘈𝘙𝘓𝘔𝘖𝘕 set at her laundromat .
5 / 5 replies !!
noun
i. a rag-tag , georgia born spit-fire with an affinity for waxy lipstick , animal print , healin' broken hearts with cheap thrills & cherry soda
𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬 ;;;
full name : darien eloise daarlmon
pronouns : she/they
sexuality : bisexual
known aliases : ren , dairy , ri-ri ( exclusive to her dearly departed mother )
age & dob : twenty8 / may 22nd
zodia : taurus
favorite color : flamingo pink
at the bar , she's ordering : whiskey , bud heavy , pickle backs
aesthetic : the smell of a lit , cheap brand cigarette wedged between two overpriced manicured fingers , smoke curling from its lit end though she never takes a drag ‘til it’s about halfway through , lipstick stains on the filter , the trailer she won in the divorce but has no idea how to take care of , animal print bras under see-through tank tops , low rise jeans , dior perfume mixed with smoke & laundry detergent , a coin purse full of quarters , thrifted kitten heels and knock-off designer handbags , hair curlers that are never put in right , a vintage jewelry box that only holds her dead mother's pearl earrings , her wedding ring ( she pawned off her engagement ring to put in savings ) , and some of her ' happy dust ' .
holds a similar likeness to : joy turner ( my name is earl ) , beth dutton ( yellowstone ) , tiffany valentine ( bride of chucky ) , max black ( two broke girls )
𝐡𝐨𝐰'𝐝 𝐰𝐞 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 ??
𝐢. seventeen and pregnant . unideal circumstances , and certainly not the future the wanna-be-movie-star had for herself , yet the circumstances she found herself in . 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐥𝐦𝐨𝐧 had not been dealt an easy hand in life , but she'd be damned if she fell privy to the expectations of her bible thumpin' mother and her deadbeat daddy . yet ; she did exactly as they asked . got hitched , moved into her twenty two year old man-child's shoddy mobile home six miles down the road , dropped out of highschool , and . . . well , after all of that , it turned out it was a false positive . you'd think they'd have gone to the doctor to make sure — but they didn't have health insurance , that and it was bad enough she had sex before marriage ( even though mama had her at sixteen ) . the dollar store piss stick was all they had to rely on , and it had been proof enough for her darling parents to twist her arm and force encourage her to get married . thankfully , her beau was as thrilled about the elopement as she was , so he forked over the cash to end it on paper . darien moved back in with her parents , spitefully , and was more hellbent than ever on getting the FUCK out of athens , georgia .
𝐢𝐢 . enter ; the ex-husband part II . darien , stubborn in love as she was in life , dreamed of a white picket fence . coffee from a keurig , hair curlers you could heat up , a stove that didn't double as a cigarette lighter , and a pantry lacking clear liquor . she met her second ex - husband at a bar in atlanta when she was twenty two . a drunken rendezvous in his hotel room lead to a romantic escapade that never ended . he lived in this town called magnolia ( even where he lived sounded dreamy ) and promised to steal her away from the shithole she lived in and give her the life she always dreamed of . for once in her life ; her wish came true . two years later , he came back for her after months of long-distant phone calls , love letters , scandalous pictures , and ' work trips ' . they eloped ( she wore her mama's wedding dress that she cut to fall right blow the knee ) and drove twenty six hours to their new home . well , HER new home — it was her first time ever leaving georgia .
𝐢𝐢𝐢 . the marriage lasted five years . five years filled with puppy love gone sour . turns out ; they hated each other . he hated her ' trailer park trash ' roots that she was set on leaving planted , she hated his fancy suits and his bluetooth ear piece . however their blooming disdain for one another , somehow , fueled some of the most passionate love either of them had ever felt ( why their marriage lasted five years instead of two months ) . he wanted to settle down , darien realized she wasn't done living her life yet . he didn't want her to work , darien wanted to be a movie star . between drunken fights that lead to heated kisses , thrown glassware that lead to making up on the porch with whiskey in their coffees — the marriage was as exhausting as it was exciting . the last straw was her mama dyin' ( a sign from , , , fuck if she knew ) so , they eventually divorced ; with mr. business keepin' the house and mrs. wildfire keepin' the trailer she INSISTED they get ' just incase ' . almost like she had known , deep down , from the start they weren't goin' to last .
𝐢𝐯 . she used money from the settlement and her savings to buy a run down laundromat . she turned it around , somewhat , and ran it like a bootcamp ( the only two employees bein' herself and some highschool kid who she underpays in exchange for getting him beer ) . she wants to get out of here , but she's still not entirely sure how to do that . ren spends her days smoking in the break room , sending in audition tapes on her piece-of-shit macbook , and lingering like an old stain at the local bars to try and find her place in the world . and maybe a third beau while she's at it , , , though she's done with gettin' married .
𝐨𝐛𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬
— darien's lack-of-education hasn't stopped her from gettin' smart , at least her version of smart . she knows a lot about nothin' , and nothin' about a whole lot , but what she does know is niche enough to be its own collegiant subject .
— marlboro reds are her favorite , though she isn't picky when it comes to her smokes . she won't vape , though . that shit's corny .
— ren is big on crystals , tarot , holistic healing but , , , isn't really organized about it . she's got cyrstals and cards all over her trailer , half burnt spell-candles , and also ends every fight with " i'll hex you , bitch !! " ( though she never has the energy or patience to go through with performing said hex ) .
— she looooooves sex . loves it . will have it with just about anyone , but she won't make that known . darien loves to give the illusion that she's got STANDARDS . she's picky as fuck on the outside , but really she's just playin' mental bingo to see if she'll they'll get lucky .
— has a bigger heart than she lets on , sometimes it swells too big for her chest , but she thinks she both deserves the world and deserves nothin' so she's constantly at war with herself . her therapist hears a lot about it when they have their weekly phone calls .