heartbreak on vinyl

Lyanna arched an eyebrow, looking at the girl with a slightly bemused look across her face. “You’ll get sloppy drunk really, if you drink wine. I bet country songs don’t tell you that. You’re also more likely to do something you’ll regret if you get drunk on it.” She commented, looking down at her orange. It really was none of her business. 

“Some do, actually, but I actually don’t mind sloppy.” She shrugged, feeling like she couldn’t have given less of a fuck at that point. “But two is better than one for that sort of stuff, don’t you think?”

Scarlett couldn’t help but let out a little chuckle at the girl saying, “Well, it’s a good thing you exist, although I can’t say I remember you. I’m fairly new here.” She then took a seat right across from the blonde. She proceeded to check her own phone a little bit before looking back up at the other woman understanding what she was going through. “Don’t worry, we all have our days where we just have shit to get through. I could say I know how you feel, but I’m not sure what’s been going on,” she said with a shrug. Upon her asking if she had anything stronger than orange juice, Scarlett said, “If you want, we can head to the kitchen and get some vodka?”

“New is fine by me, maybe we can stumble around in the dark together,” Beth smiled. She was oblivious to what the other girl was doing, but maybe that was only true because Beth was so sucked up in her own troubles. Almost startled by the other person’s perceptiveness, the blonde looked up somewhat shyly. “Are you always this nice to people?” She wondered aloud, almost instantly regretting it. It sounded blunt, but she hadn’t meant it that way. “Yes, vodka would be excellent. Thank you for indulging me instead of giving me the mom friend talk.”

Bags in tow, Karmen wandered into the mansion that would be her new home. Cameras were hidden everywhere, that much she knew, but very little otherwise. “Wow, this place is super lavish, and kind of weird,” she commented as she took in her surroundings. “How am I supposed to know what I’m really supposed to ‘do’ and like what room I’m supposed to stay in?”

“Weird?” Beth perked up a curious brow. The place was... expansive, that wasn’t necessarily untrue. She was almost embarrassed to admit it wasn’t her first time in a house of this size. “I think you’re just supposed to be yourself. Socialize, watch a movie maybe. And you have a roommate, but that’s about all I know. I’m pretty useless.”

Zara’s head perked up from her laptop when she heard someone speak. She’d settled in already and began to work on some designs for a company who had reached out to her. She tilted her head to the side as she listened to the blonde, “I’m sorry, I don’t really know if there’s anything stronger than that I just got here a few hours ago. I know you don’t really know me but if you want to talk about what’s bothering you, I don’t mind listening.” she offered kindly.

“Crap, I keep doing this.” The girl blushed, starting to wrinkle her nose. “I haven’t met a lot of people, I’m not the most... social of people right now. Or ever, I guess.” She admitted, knowing the limits of her own introversion. “...You don’t?” To say that that surprised her would be an understatement. A few of the girls she’d interacted with here had been... hostile, to say the least.

“…what?” Analuz looked up from her spot on the stool, her spoon still halfway in the air and full of yogurt. She didn’t know the girl at all, but she was talking to her as if they were old friends or they’d met before. Maybe she had confused Luz with someone else - there were definitely enough people in the house for that to happen. Luz wasn’t sure if she should humor her or not, but she just nodded on anyway. “Like what?” she asked curiously, eating a spoonful of yogurt and raising her eyebrows. She knew that look at the phone - it was easy to recognize. She’d been dealing with that sort of thing. “I literally just got here yesterday so I have no idea what they’ve got around here,” she admitted, waving her spoon around vaguely. “But a place as big as this with all these cameras? You know there’s some tequila in this house.”

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry, I must’ve sounded so rude just now. I’m Beth!” The girl said with her face flushed, instantly reaching a hand forward. Maybe she really was out of it. Sighing, she pushed her face into her hands, knees fidgeting with each other out of anxiety. “It’s just... been a long month, I guess. Time to go on a little hunt. You’re welcome to come with if you want.”

“Oh my god, she is the worst. I mean, by the end, the only one I don’t truly hate is Shane, because Shane really is just too perfect. That’s great. It’ll be fun.”

“Oh man, Shane. My original celebrity crush. -- Where are you planning on taking me?”

“So am I honestly. To think my entire life I wanted to get away and the moment I do I get homesick. Maybe one day the show will end up there.”

“Maybe! That would be really cool, actually. Why’d you wanna leave in the first place?”

Writers make love to whatever they need.

Glancing up from the novel she was only in half-hearted pursuit of, a wistful sigh rose from the reader’s chest at the sentiment which she soon bluntly returned with, “That makes one of us.” Her tone wasn’t usually so devoid of emotion, not around an unfamiliar face at least, but suffice it to say — Zosia was not at her best. The dull throb of an oncoming headache ached just behind her forehead, a deserved side effect from indulging the night before in a little too many bottles of liquid courage after a particularly nerve wracking argument with a particularly infuriating former flame had left her a little too on edge. If she’d been asked to recall the names on all the labels of the alcohol she’d consumed, even someone as attentive as the brunette would have been at a loss for words. All she remembered was she started drinking in the late afternoon, fell asleep with 3AM on her phone screen with an alarmingly high amount text messages in the sent box, and woke up with bruises covering her body from clumsily wandering around the mansion after dark. Hence, the jeans and black long sleeved cardigan that presently covered her pale limbs. A glimmer of a smile lurked across her lips at her company’s suggestion, brown eyes flicking briefly down at the device the blonde held. Even in a state of hangover recovery, Zosia calculated that there could only be a few reasons someone would need a drink so early in the day. Perhaps they had more in common than met the eye. “I may not know you well, but I can certainly help you there. Actually, you’d be doing me a favor if you could empty my stash a little.” Not expecting to extend such an offer, the words rolling out naturally as if on their own accord, a bemused chuckle rumbled in her throat. Since when did she have a stash? — since last night, it seemed. The details may have been fuzzy in their slow return but, as she paused to reflect upon it, she was almost entirely sure her past self had left an expansive surprise selection within her mini fridge. She may’ve been new to the ‘numb your pain with alcohol’ club, but least she was a thorough. Apparently. “Do you have a poison of choice, mon cheri?”

Quirking her brow, Beth noted the tone of listlessness in the other girl’s voice --- one she wasn’t totally unfamiliar with, having her own history of clouds without silver linings occasionally spilling into her demeanor. She also had her fair share of nights with a bottle in recent times, making her astutely aware of the effects of the stuff when someone seemed to look a bit worse for wear. “Hungover?” Beth asked, not with judgement or even curiosity, but with her voice cloaked in solidarity. “Nobody here knows me yet. -- You have a stash?” Smiling, as if she were amused, the blonde leaned back in her chair and airily waved a hand. “Well, yeah, please, indulge me. I’m almost out of cheap tequila, which makes me just as unattractive as it sounds. Got any white wine?”

“In the corner there’s a latch to that drawer, see it?” Maya pointed, glancing up from her luggage that she was still busy packing. “There’s a few bottles of alcohol there, all yours. I installed it after I moved to this room. Got tired of my roommates stealing all the good stuff..” Maya explained, neatly folding articles of clothing for all weather types into her bags. She’d done this so many times that it was a practiced science by now. Running had become her method of staying calm in a situation - of getting away - and she couldn’t stay in IKAG while her ex was here gallivanting carefree with someone else. She would go insane. Literally batshit crazy if she them together and she wouldn’t put it past One or even the real Maya to go on some sort of angry spree around the house, destroying expensive things in the process. Better to leave now than do something you’ll regret once you’re pushed to the edge. 

Not sure whether to be grateful or curious, Beth only frowned, her gaze only following the brunette’s direction long enough to note it for herself before glancing back at the other girl. “Thank you. -- Are you headed home for a visit or something?” It sounded strange to her, even though she’d only been here for a matter of weeks. This place almost seemed like a safe haven, an escape from the craziness and bleak reality of the outside world. She couldn’t imagine anyone would want to spend too much time away, at least not if their experience had been anything like hers. The thought that the woman might be leaving permanently didn’t even cross her mind.

“I never doubted your existence, purely because I have never met you before. But nevertheless, I am very glad.” A thumb left it’s comforting place from between Angharad’s lips for a few moments as she spoke, then resumed, while her index finger gently brushed the soft skin below her nose. Nursing a hangover, she had emerged from her bed and crawled quivering and rung out to a sofa where she had curled as small as small could be in one corner and watched the TV. “Please. Please don’t talk to me about the A word. My stomach can’t cope.”

Allowing herself to smile at the other’s observation, Beth nodded. “Well, thank you for acknowledging me, then.” Flicking the off switch on her phone, her expression returned to normal. Seeing the pretty girl clearly shaken by a hangover was almost endearing, and, admittedly, familiar. She’d been there a few too many nights, herself. That was until she got used to the stuff. “Rough night? -- I’m sorry. You know, actually, if you want, I can whip you up a pretty good hangover cure.” Most of the time that usually just meant more alcohol, but living in her house as a teenager, she’d learned to be... creative.

“Ah yes, I think it would probably be best to find a time traveler. I’d go looking in Chinatown first, you can find everything there.” She joked back, pulling out the assortment of tea the house had. “We’ve got Earl Grey, yes. Also, chamomile, lemon, ginger, mint and green. All the colors of the rainbow.” She smiled, turning the stove on to eat the tea pot before turning back to the blonde. 

“Everything? Sounds like you have a few stories to accompany that theory,” Beth teased. “Not gonna lie, you kind of sounded like Ramona Flowers for a second there. Lemon might be nice, if it’s not too much trouble,” the blonde shrugged. “My name’s Beth, by the way.”

Sabrina had no idea who this woman was, or how long she had been here, so to hear her say she still existed made the woman wonder if she had been hiding away to much lately. “Well good to know.” She laughed. “As for your request.” She said as she darted behind the small bar that was in the living room corner. “Want some vodka? Then you have a screwdriver”

Raising a brow, Beth paused, looking at the brunette as if she were considering something. Truthfully, she was just in a bit of a brain funk, and everything felt a bit hazy at this point. Which might’ve meant alcohol was probably not the best solution, but she didn’t really care to be listening to that little voice of reason at this particular moment. “Yes, please. Who are you, fairy godmother, and how may I repay you?”

“THANKS FOR THE UPDATE I DIDN’T ASK FOR” Chai had noticed the sudden increase of people feeling the need to create an obsessive daily monologue of their lives even though she didn’t care nor ask for it in the first place; “Can you handle something stronger then orange juice? You look like sunshine trapped in a pretty blonde bottle. You don’t look like you could handle anything stronger then a cruiser”

“Oh, you’re ever so welcome,” Beth said dryly, actually appreciating the honesty of the other girl for a second. In a strange way, it made her laugh, but maybe that was just because she was so depressed she was mistaking bluntness for actual humor. “And you’re one to talk. Aren’t you kinda the pot calling the kettle blonde in this scenario?”

“No,” the girl sighed honestly, trying to put on her best optimistic smile. For a long moment, Beth only stared at the wall, deciding it was better than staring at her phone. Her eyes were starting to hurt, anyways. “Anything’s better than sitting here, I think. Carrie, that’s a nice name. You ever hit rock bottom, Carrie?” It was decided in her brain, then -- she needed a manhattan, and she needed it stat. “Sorry, where are my manners.” Extending a hand, a falsely plastered smile once again colored her features. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m just sorry it had to be like this. Pretty sure I could use a shower.”

“Mainly stuff like ‘there will be cameras everywhere and people’.. all kinds of things to make me stay at home.”

“They must not know what it’s like to be gay and single. ‘House full of girls’ is kind of a hard thing to pass up.”