I stare at this WIP weds photo and I'm like damn this is huge. So...a new banner is coming but for now...
Thank you lovelies for the tags this week @hippolotamus @lizzie-bennetdarcy @hgejfmw-hgejhsf and @sparklepocalypse! I can't wait to go read your snippets!!
I posted chapter three a bit late, but this is my WIP for this week
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
Open tag to anyone who hasn't shared this week!!! I'm still hoping to post something new on Sunday and... I will do the WIP tag game. I think I have a couple new things to add from the last time I played.
Greeting and happy Sunday, all. Val has been Busy with a capital B lately, but the other day, while at work, I sat down and was able to write almost 4,000 words, and I'm so grateful for my muse being inspired, because I needed something to get me through another long week at work, and writing more of At the end of a bar was just the thing. So in honor of me being able to write more in one day than I've written so far in the new year, I'm gifting the timeline with 8 sentences today, behind the cut for a touch of NSFW content.
Mere hours before, Alex was neck deep in paperwork, drowning in a sea of red tape and bureaucratic bullshit. And as frustrating and heartbreaking as it can be to churn his legs even a fraction of an inch forward for his clients, he’s always felt at home in a courtroom, fighting for those whose voices have been silenced. But now. Now, he’s three fingers deep inside Henry, drowning in heavy-lidded blue eyes and intoxicated by every sweet sound that escapes his lips, and he isn’t sure he’s ever felt more at home in his life.
It should scare him - this thing with a perfect stranger. The way it feels like he’ll die if he has to walk out of this apartment under the cover of darkness or in the dim haze of the mid-morning light, never to lay eyes on the person currently writhing beneath his every touch. But it doesn’t. In fact, what scares him even more is the thought that this could be the first and the last time that Henry cries his name and it reaches up to the ceiling, through the glass of the skylight, and into the heavens stretching far and wide above them.
Going to gently send some no-pressure tags out and into the world for some of my lovelies, but if you're reading this, and you have something to share, please do, and PLEASE tag me. I want to see what we're all up to!
Thank you for the tags, @rmd-writes, @hgejfmw-hgejhsf, @maxbegone, and @three-drink-amy!
I'm getting close to the end of The Coma Fic™️! Hooray!
I've just reached the point where I don't want to share out of context snippets anymore because I don't want to spoil important moments... even though y'all already know Alex is gonna wake up. Anyway, that means this is the last time I'll share a snip until I drop the whole thing (and it's a few more than seven sentences):
For a moment, Alex thinks Nora has a point. It's not so bad. Alex looks out at the lake, watching the moon glisten against the still water, and he thinks… You know what? Yeah. He can stay here. It's peaceful, and he has June and Nora—figments or not—and, maybe, he's tired of fucking fighting all the time. Maybe he's here because he deserves some goddamn peace.
Then he lays down on his back and the sky spreads out above him. That's another thing about Austin. You can really see the stars out here. D.C. isn't quite as bright as other big cities he's been to, but out here? The midnight sky is littered with stars, scattered as far and wide as he can see. And he's never been one for astronomy, but it's easy for his eyes to spot a familiar belt of three stars and a sword held high.
"What're you doing out here?"
There's a shuffling sound next to him, and Alex turns his head to find Henry—finally—dropping to lie beside him in the dirt. His blonde hair is sticking to his forehead and droplets cling to his eyelashes. He's as beautiful as he's always been.
Alex's lips twitch. "Looking for Orion," he says.
"Ah," Henry replies. "Any luck?"
He hums in the affirmative. "The three stars there"—he takes Henry's hand, twines their fingers, and points them together, as if Henry wasn't the one who taught him—"are the dead giveaway. That's the belt, and his shoulders up here…"
"I see." Henry smiles; it's in the smooth tone of his voice. "I had no idea you were into astronomy."
Alex smiles. "Oh, I'm not," he teases, dropping their still-twined hands onto the ground between them. "Some guy taught me. The things we'll do for a piece of ass, right?"
Henry laughs. "A piece of—Christ, Alex." He shakes his head. Mud collects in his hair. "Charming. Truly."
"Yeah, I was gonna be really charming when I busted down your door," Alex says. "You dodged a bullet."
Instantly, Henry's smile fades. Alex wishes he could take it back.
Tagging some lovelies under the cut. If you have not been tagged and you want to be, consider this your tag!
Thank you for the tag @hgejfmw-hgejhsf and @indestructibleheart!! 💜 I can't wait to check out your snippets!!!
I don't have any new sentences to share, but I can share that over the weekend some ideas for RWRB started brewing so hopefully soon I can share something soon. I'm in the outlining phase at the moment and still working on other SC fics. More to come!
Leaving this as an open tag to all! Please tag me if you use this open tag! I can't wait to see what everyone is working on!
Thanks for the tags, @hgejfmw-hgejhsf @kiwiana-writes @hippolotamus!
I feel like I had the week from hell a year and a half ago and it's still going on. One of these days, things will get easier. I'm going to do so much writing whenever that happens.
Anyway, I am nearly ready to post something new, probably tomorrow, but maybe tonight if I have a sudden burst of energy. But in the meantime, here's seven eight sentences of indie band patrick that I don't think I've shared before:
“Hey,” he murmurs, resting a comforting hand on Patrick’s cheek. “You don’t have to tell him about us if you’re not ready.”
Patrick snorts and gestures down at their naked bodies. “Ted’s a smart guy, David. I think he’ll figure it out.”
“I’ll wait until he’s in the bathroom or go out the window or something.” David internally cringes at what climbing out the window would do to his Rick Owens but, to his surprise, he finds that he’d willingly sacrifice a hundred pairs for Patrick. The truth of it nearly overwhelms him.
tagged for 7SS by @welcometololaland @daffi-990 @tizniz @diazsdimples @wikiangela @thekristen999 thank you loves! Be sure to check their snippets/ficlets because they’re a delight
I give up on saying ‘guys this is so close to done!’ but I swear it might actually be this time??? Yesterday I was able to connect some stray sections and bring pieces together. Huzzah 🎉 The boys just keep getting all sappy and lovey and ‘omg you’re so pretty 😍’ Anyway, a smöl snippet of honey, when you call my name under the cut because it is not lovey dovey 😏
He hooks his chin over Eddie’s shoulder. One arm stays wrapped around Eddie’s chest in a loose hold, the heel of his palm resting between Eddie’s pecs while his fingers circle the nipple. “This alright?”
Eddie nods. “Yeah. That’s good.”
“And what about this?” Buck’s hand teases Eddie’s shaft with a featherlight stroke, up and down while he waits for an answer.
“Buck,” he rasps.
“Yes or no, baby.” Buck lets out a breathy chuckle, mirroring Eddie’s request for explicit consent from earlier.
“Yes, fuck, need you to touch me.”
no pressure tagging @stereopticons @shortsighted-owl @eddiebabygirldiaz @giddyupbuck @disasterbuckdiaz @watchyourbuck @elvensorceress @honestlydarkprincess @monsterrae1 @spotsandsocks @gayedmundodiaz @indestructibleheart @lemonzestywrites @buddierights @barbiediaz @buckaroosheart @eowon @apothecarose @jesuisici33 @wildlife4life @the-likesofus @hoodie-buck @theplaceyoustillrememberdreaming @heartshapedvows @loserdiaz @statueinthestone @singlethread @ladydorian05 @steadfastsaturnsrings @weewootruck @spaceprincessem @vanillahigh00 @chaosandwolves @thewolvesof1998 @theotherbuckley @your-catfish-friend @rmd-writes @lizzie-bennetdarcy and anyone else who wants to share 😘 (my tag list got all out of sorts again so if i didn’t tag you yes i did)
Greetings, my dearest loves, and welcome back to another installment of "Val has worked a ridiculous amount of hours this week/weekend, AND she has to work tomorrow, so she's scheduling the shit out of this post and going to sleep!" Hooray!
I went back and forth on which snippet to share with y'all this week. Did I decide to go with another portion of the next chapter of At the End of a Bar, that nearly every reader/commenter has been begging for a continuation of (and making me blush every time)? Or did I choose a portion of a new WIP that I started before the sun had even risen earlier this week while talking with @thinkof-england about some...things I can't yet share...that were going on in my personal life?
Well...since the new WIP barely HAS six sentences, I'm going to be gracious and give y'all more than six sentences of At the End of a Bar. Enjoy! (Hopefully)
He’s already heard Henry laugh. Several times, in fact, in several ways, just tonight alone. A nervous giggle when Alex leaned in and whispered that he was the hottest person he’d ever seen. An incredulous huff when he revealed his favorite Star Wars movie and Alex informed him how completely and utterly wrong he was. A full-bodied howl of a thing that turned a few heads as he recalled the look on his ghoul of a grandmother’s face when he told her that he was moving to Texas and would be riding more than just horses.
But the laugh that crosses the boundary of his perfect lips when he comes can only be described as euphoric. A sound so exquisite that anyone who’s ever heard it should consider themselves blessed to have witnessed such a remarkable thing. Head thrown back, blond hair glistening with sweat, pink lips pulled over white teeth in a wide, gummy grin, blue eyes practically glowing. Alex would like nothing more than to be the cause of such utter bliss every day, several times a day, for as long as Henry will allow him.
Putting some no-pressure tags out into the universe and behind the cut, as well as laying out an open tag for anyone else who might wish to tag me and share their beautiful work from this past week!
Tagged by my love @disasterbuckdiaz @tizniz @fortheloveofbuddie @spotsandsocks @diazsdimples thank you lovelies 🥰
An idea that’s been swirling around a bit and all the words are direct from my brain to your dash (sorry) 🫠
“One. One drink,” Natalia reminds Ash once they clear security and make it into the club. She fidgets with the curls falling over her eyes. It’s useless, really. Every time she moves them away they fall right back.
“Yes, darling, I knoooow.” Ash rests the back of her hand on her forehead like a Victorian maiden. “It’s been such a week and you have the Thompsons coming in on Monday.”
“Ash-“ Natalia pouts when her friend interrupts her again. Doesn’t she get it? The business is finally taking off. People are getting more comfortable with talking about death and saying their goodbyes while they’re still alive.
“Nat, babe, I get it. I do. Which is why we’re here. Because for someone that deals with the Soon To Be Deceased you have forgotten how to live. There is more than this business. Honey, you need to let go a little.”
Natalia bristles at the implication that she’s not fun anymore. That she’s all work and no play. It’s not wrong but it still hurts being called on the carpet for it.
“Here.” Ash picks two shots of tequila off the bar and hands one to her. “Don’t give me that bullshit about how it makes you too loose. We have all weekend to recover. Drink up, bitch.”
Ash clinks their glasses together before they down their drinks. It burns worse than Nat remembers and she has to hold back from coughing and sputtering. To Ash’s credit, it does help. Her limbs already feel more relaxed and the stress of dealing with clients melts away for the first time in weeks.
“C’mon, let’s check out our prospects.” Ash whirls them both toward the crowd. A writhing sea of bodies moving in time to the thumping bass. The scene is almost ethereal, cast under the muted lighting.
Platforms of varying heights are strategically placed throughout the dance floor, each with their own unique features. One has a pole in the center that reaches up to the ceiling. Another is surrounded by a cage with an opening to easily walk in and out of. But it’s the platform without any decoration or adornments that catches Natalia’s attention. Rather the woman dancing on it.
She has short blond hair, already beginning to mat against her forehead. A sheen of sweat glistens on her tan skin. Natalia’s throat goes dry taking in the sleeveless black leather corset, tied neatly down the front. It bleeds seamlessly into skintight leather pants. Nat suddenly has the urge to kneel down in front of the woman — on the platform surrounded by everyone would be fine — to mouth at the supple material and hope for the chance to do more. Maybe the long, slender fingers would fist in her hair, hold her in place, tell her she might earn the chance to-
“Earth to Natalia.” Ash snaps her fingers, drawing Nat back to the present.
Her cheeks flush a deep crimson at the prospect of being caught staring.
“Huh, didn’t realize that was your scene,” Ash comments. “You should join her.”
There’s a million reasons why that can’t happen. Not the least of which is how fucking confident and gorgeous this woman is. Like she could point to anyone in the room and have them. Then, like Nat’s thoughts are being broadcast to the universe, the woman angles her body in their direction. She licks her lips and smirks. But it had to be at Ash right? Or someone else. Anyone other than Natalia.
Nat tries to laugh it off, ready to tease her friend about it. But when she looks, Ash isn’t there. Her gaze drifts back to the platform and there’s no doubt who the woman was looking at before. Because she’s studying Natalia like prey.
Ash told Nat to live a little. But maybe being devoured wouldn’t be such a terrible thing.
Tagged by the always lovely and talented @jesuisici33 @diazsdimples @wikiangela (do go check their snippets for all manner of *feels*)
Speaking of feels, have some more (prev snippets here)
Their kiss becomes increasingly urgent and messy. As if they both recognize the window of time is closing. That whatever they’ve shared disappears when Eddie leaves this bed.
Fat, wet tears begin rolling down Buck’s cheeks, splashing onto his tongue. He hardly recognizes what’s happening before Eddie is cradling his face between his palms, shushing him like a child.
“Buck, hey, look at me.” Eddie soothes him, brushing the dampness away. “Tell me what’s going on.”
“‘M fine,” Buck lies, swiping his forearm across his face and trying to turn away so Eddie can’t see.
I DID write yesterday, but I DIDN'T schedule my post! How's that for a fun little twist? Forgive me, y'all, I've spent way too much time at work this week, so the little things must entertain me at this point.
I want to thank my lovelies @onthewaytosomewhere, @zwiazdziarka, @suseagull04, @littlemisskittentoes, and @sophie1973 for tagging me already today!
Have a teensy tiny bit more from chapter 2 of At the End of a Bar, that's now going to have 3 chapters oops did I actually say that because I want to be a bit of a tease today, sorry not sorry.
“Noted. And not intended.”
“Good, Alexander.”
Zero-pressure tags for lots of humans whose work I wanna exist inside the walls of and scream about it in the tags after the cut! Also, if you are a writer and you see this and you want ME to exist inside your walls and scream about what you're working on in the tags, feel free to always tag me! I love this fandom, and I want nothing more than for all of us to have all the cake available in all the different flavors and styles. More cake is always good cake!
tagged by the oh so lovely and talented @disasterbuckdiaz @wikiangela @theotherbuckley @tizniz thank you loves! 💖
SO... guess who's in the editing/mostly done phase of honey when you call my name? *happy wiggles* god willing this will be actually done and run by my beta in the next week or so(!) So excited to share with y'all. I only started this wip... *checks notes* last April.
To celebrate I'm showcasing a recent zesty addition that I'm just so, so delighted by. Hopefully you will be too
Eddie braces himself, welcoming the way their bodies crash together. It’s utter perfection. Like art, he thinks, or a feat of engineering. If he wasn’t so leery of technology he would want to record this. To have some way of capturing them frame by frame. An eternal memorial of how perfectly they fit. The way the moonlight illuminates Buck’s birthmark. How his skin gleams. Each time they come together like magnets in a desperate attempt to kiss and explore each other’s mouths. To map out the other’s body with their tongue.
...
How his hands curl around Eddie’s hips or each muscle flex. The encouraging grunt he makes when Eddie scrapes his nails along his sweat slick skin. How Eddie lets go, throwing his head back in pleasure and begs Buck to fuck him harder.
Yeah, just a few things Buck wants to hold onto forever. Memories he’ll never really get to look at too closely. That he’ll have to shove away when Eddie gives him those soft looks over movie nights with Chris, or when Buck brings him one of those fancy lattes from the café down the street. The ones he insists aren’t that great but Buck knows he secretly loves and will never buy for himself.
He hates already knowing he’ll have to remember to forget how this Buck-and-Eddie felt tonight.
npt (lmk if you want added or removed) @shortsighted-owl @eddiebabygirldiaz @elvensorceress @stereopticons @apothecarose @barbiediaz @buckaroosheart @buddierights @chaosandwolves @daffi-990 @diazsdimples @eowon @fortheloveofbuddie @gayedmundodiaz @giddyupbuck @heartshapedvows @honestlydarkprincess @hoodie-buck @indestructibleheart @jesuisici33 @ladydorian05 @lemonzestywrites @lizzie-bennetdarcy @loserdiaz @monsterrae1 @rmd-writes @singlethread @spaceprincessem @spotsandsocks @statueinthestone @steadfastsaturnsrings @the-likesofus @theplaceyoustillrememberdreaming @thekristen999 @thewolvesof1998 @vanillahigh00 @watchyourbuck @weewootruck @welcometololaland @wildlife4life @your-catfish-friend and anyone else who wants to share 😘
Thank you for the tag @hippolotamus and @hgejfmw-hgejhsf! 💜
I just posted Chapter 2! I'm hoping to have other sentences to share on other fics by Sunday, but here you go if you want to hear about David's Secret Admirer!
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
Because I always love to see what everyone's working on, no pressure tagging for some lovelies and an official open tag if you have something to share. Please tag me if you use the open tag so I can love on your work!
Y'all are getting a two-fer on this Sunday! Since I haven't yet been tagged, I guess I'm gonna kick things off this week with six sentences of the Henry angst fic that I'm still working through, slowly but surely:
What he doesn’t understand, despite Henry’s constant attempts at telling him in his own unique way, is that Alex is the sun. Even the darkest days are now somehow brightened by Alex’s mere presence. The warmth of his skin against Henry’s when they’re both buried beneath a weighted blanket. The molten glow of his brown eyes always seeing Henry as he is, no more or less, and loving him through all of it. It fills his veins, setting his heart on fire and burning away all semblance of tears threatening to fall before they have a chance to slide over his skin.
But today, he feels every bit of the storm raging inside him.
AND because I promised a two-fer, here's the last line I wrote for a fic that was originally a prompt by @sadlittlenerdking on Twitter that has grabbed hold of my every thought and won't let me go.
"Oh. This is about Henry, then."
Insert sussy eyes emoji here. Good luck figuring this one out, y'all!
Putting all of the tags for my lovelies behind the cut to take part in one or both of these challenges! A lot of the people on the tag list originally tagged me in the last line challenge, so obviously y'all can skip...unless you wanna go again, in which case go for it!
tagged by the oh so lovely @wikiangela @daffi-990 @diazsdimples for 7SS and @thekristen999 for Inspiration Saturday (tagging you back for 7SS) be sure to check their snippets. soooo good
I was not going to share more of this but tbh I need some hype to get it over the finish line. And I really really love this part... so here is what I hope is the last snippet of honey, when you call my name (all prev snippets here)
“Mornin’, Buck,” Eddie says in a warm tone that does nothing to make Buck want to become upright. If anything it’s golden and loving, caressing him like the scent of ink on pages being warmed by the afternoon sun. It’s his favorite hoodie fresh from the dryer, smelling like the lavender fabric softener Eddie uses.
Buck drops his arms to his sides, slowly blinking his eyes open again. He’s treated to a view of his best friend, soft and sleepy, wearing a rumpled LAFD tee and charcoal gray joggers. Eddie smiles at him. A lopsided grin like Buck hung the entire galaxy instead of randomly showing up in the middle of the night to crash on the sofa.
[...]
“C’mon.” Eddie gently taps Buck’s socked foot sticking out from under the blanket. “I’ll get you some Tylenol and try not to burn your toast.”
Thanks for the tags, @hgejfmw-hgejhsf, @kiwiana-writes, @inexplicablymine, and @three-drink-amy.
I'm keeping things going today with a little more of my project with @kiwiana-writes, since we've been having a lot of fun with that this week. This is actually part of the same scene I shared on Wednesday, which I just finished writing, like, ten minutes ago:
"What I don't understand is how the lot of you can sit there and do nothing."
"What choice do we have?" June says.
Deliriously, Henry wonders if he sounded so ridiculous on that rainy night in Kensington—truly, it's no wonder Alex burst through the palace doors, forceful as the storm outside, and called him an obtuse fucking asshole. But that was a lifetime ago. Henry is no longer the gilded prince who simply allows things to happen to him; he'll be damned if he'll let this happen to Alex without a fight.
It seems fitting that Alex's own words fly from Henry's mouth then:
"You could try."
Tagging some lovelies under the cut. If you have not been tagged and you want to be, consider this your tag!
Hi, fam! Okay, so I'm going to be out at an appointment tomorrow morning, so I'm kicking this off a little bit early. It's technically Wednesday in several timezones and very nearly Wednesday in mine. I'm... also a bit eager to share this, ngl.
I know that I've shared a lot of angst lately, but I swear that's not all I'm doing. 😅 In fact, the actor/playwright AU decided to wallop me in the face out of nowhere after sitting in my WIP folder for months. I'm really excited about it, so I'm gonna share the first scene!
(Also, those of you who have been to New York with me will recognize my favorite brunch spot in this scene lmao.)
---
You probably didn't even know I was in the room, but I noticed you straight away. You were talking with your friends, happy and animated and fully alive—a person living in dimensions I couldn’t access—and so beautiful. Your hair was longer then. You were the center of attention, but you weren’t afraid. You had a yellow ipê-amarelo in your pocket. I thought, this is the most incredible thing I have ever seen; I'd better keep it a safe distance away from me. I thought, if someone like that ever loved me, it would set me on fire.
INT. MOM'S KITCHEN & BAR - HELL'S KITCHEN - LATE MORNING
"I'm telling y'all," Alex is saying, punctuating with dangerously large bites of his pancake burrito. "The dude's a dick."
It's been two hours since the nightmare audition, but Alex has been on this tirade since June and Nora first slid into the retro diner chairs across from him (at least forty-five minutes ago).
They're at Mom's: a restaurant-bar in midtown that can only be described as millennial nostalgia incarnate. The trio fell in love with it two years back—post-karaoke, stumbling in right before closing—when Alex saw God in their Fruity Pebble pancakes. Since then, it's been his favorite place to eat his feelings.
Mom's is just really fucking comforting in general, honestly; whether it's the televisions cycling through episodes of 'Rugrats,' 'Dexter's Laboratory,' and 'Hey, Arnold!' or the rainbow straws and Lisa-Frank-looking menus, Alex can't be sure. It doesn't hurt that they've made friends with several of the waitstaff, including an eccentric bartender, Pez, whose pink hair and painted nails fit right in with the decor.
Today, it's the combination of breakfast sausage, bacon, eggs and cheese wrapped up in a syrup-soaked pancake that's really doing something for him. It could also be the margarita the size of his face, which Pez placed in front of him before making himself uncharacteristically scarce. But it's fine. He's probably just busy.
Alex won't admit it out loud, but what really helps is having June and Nora here to talk to… even though Nora is scrolling on her phone.
"I'm sorry," June says. She pokes an ice cube with her straw, and Alex watches as it bobs around her mimosa like a buoy. "That sounds like it sucked, but if he's really that rude… maybe you didn't want to work with him anyway."
Nora doesn't look up as she pops a home fry into her mouth.
"Several sources say he's difficult to work with," she adds, evidently reading about Henry on the internet. "Though, in his defense, his dad did just die, like, three years ago… and there was that whole thing when he came out after. Remember?"
Alex does remember. Henry's grandmother, Mary Mountchristen, runs a pretty major company that used to own half the theatres on the West End. When Henry came out last year, she tried blacklisting his shows from her properties to punish him—which totally backfired when it got around. At least a dozen other queer writers and producers started talking about how they were also denied the space, and Mary was stoned on the streets of the theatre district. Like, metaphorically.
Alex, Nora, and June had just moved to New York, but between June's position at Newsday and both Alex and Nora on the audition circuit, it was all anyone in their new circles could talk about. They were some of the first to know when the Mountchristens were bought out of their properties and Henry moved to the States.
This show is the first of Henry's being produced here—and it's autobiographical, which Alex has to admit is pretty fucking baller. So, yeah, Nora's not wrong. He has reason to be standoffish. Still, it doesn't explain why Alex was only halfway through his audition monologue when Henry abruptly stood up and exited stage left as if pursued by a bear.
He shoves another forkful into his mouth. "It's just, like, they're the only people who let me into the room," he says, barely finishing chewing. "Nobody wants to take me seriously, and I really thought this was my shot, you know?"
June and Nora both know Alex is having a hard time landing serious roles after growing up on a sitcom—Nora more than most, as his former co-star. What they don't know is that losing this role, specifically, feels like a kick to the stomach. From the moment Alex saw the script, he wanted to be a part of it. He can't even explain why, and now he'll never figure it out. Henry wouldn't give him a chance.
"It wasn't your only shot, and you know it." Nora fixes him with a look. "Seriously, I get it—I do—but it's just one play, buddy."
June nods. "Something will happen for you, baby brother."
At that, Alex finally groans. "Okay, calling me baby brother doesn't help me feel better about the entertainment industry infantili—"
"—itty bitty, teeny weeny—"
Alex throws a home fry at her face.
It bounces off her forehead and into the giant gauntlet holding her mimosa with a very unappetizing splash. Just as Alex throws his hands into the air with a victorious whoop, his phone buzzes on the table.
A glance is all it takes for him to see that it's his agent, Zahra.
"Damn," he says, deflating. There goes that upswing. "You answer it."
June balks. "Me?"
"I don't need to hear how fucking badly it went. Trust me, I got the message." Alex blinks innocently, like he's six years old again, asking her to lie to their mom about that broken vase. "Please, Bug? Besides, Zahra actually likes you."
"Everyone likes me." June rolls her eyes, but she caves—answering the phone with a haughty, "Alex Claremont-Diaz's office," before breaking into a smile. "Yeah, Z. It's me… No, Alex is feeling a little sensitive today."
(He throws another home fry at her. This one misses.)
To her credit, June's face remains totally blank as Zahra no doubt tells her how Alex insulted Henry Fox's name and all of his inbred ancestors just by showing up, or whatever—which is extremely annoying and unhelpful—but, once she says goodbye and sets the phone back down on the table, her face breaks out into a grin.
"Guess you didn't suck too bad," she says. "They want you for the part."
He doesn't know if it's Nora throwing herself at him or the shock that knocks him onto the floor.
Tagging some lovelies. If you haven't been tagged and you want to be, consider this your tag!
