CHERRYCOKE.

“yeah, the green cargos match better.” you say to your boyfriend dominic as you take a drag of your cigarette, watching him do a mini fashion show for you in your hotel room, clothes strewn about on the bed and around the floors. people who watch your videos love your style, so he figured you could help him elevate his stage outfits, but you tease him that it’s cause he likes when you watch him change. which is partially true.

dominic nods at your opinion, pulling off his black jeans and paces around the room in only his calvin klein boxers, looking for the cargos you liked. instead of helping him, you are sat on the bed, cigarette in hand, checking out your man.

after a good twenty seconds, he looks at you with a teasing frown, and his curls all tousled from constantly changing shirts. “baby, stop checkin’ me out and help me look.” he says, catching you in the act of eye fucking him as you quickly exhale smoke and hop of the bed.

“my baaad.” you grin, sliding off the bed and placing your cigarette between dominic’s lips, and moving around some shirts. “found em’.” you say, holding up the pants. “how did you find them so fast? you’re like my ma, she always finds shit at like, lightning speed.” he responds in awe.

“nah, you just can’t see for shit, dom.”

dominic jokingly whines. “this relationship is emotionally abusive.”

you fake pout. “oh noooo is he gonna write an album about this?”

“hey,” he grins, rolling his eyes, because you have been nagging him to get his album done faster. “production takes a long ass time, and like, i’ve been busy ‘n stuff.”

rolling your eyes, you take a drag from the cigarette and sit back on the bed. “busy or lazy?” you say as you tug his arm, pulling him to sit on the bed with you.

“busy.” dominic replies confidently, lifting you gently onto his lap. “busy with ‘m baby. wanna be with you, every day. no time left for album.”

you laugh as he starts trailing wet fluttery kisses down your neck, his pretty curls all up in your face. “okaaay, fine no album.” you manage to sputter out right before he kisses your lips and lays you flat on the bed, and crawls on top of you.

your eyes close at the feeling of his lips, and now his teeth grazing along your neck, his long fingers quickly pushing down your sweatpants. “baby, the car is coming to drive you to soundcheck like, hella soon.” you say, your brain a mess and you mind going numb just looking at your boyfriend. 

at that, he gets off of you, and you think he is going to stop, but you are dead wrong on that. “you’ve finished in like, two minutes before. we’ll manage.” dominic huffs out, his tan face sporting a sweaty blush already, and his hair askew from all your ministrations. looking down, his hands are tugging his boxers down as fast as humanly possible.

“fuck off, it was not two minutes. i am not that easy.” you groan, flopping onto the bed as dominic crawls back up onto you.

THREE HOURS LATER.

as dominic is getting his mic pack set up, you are sitting in the green room, editing a new video for your channel on your computer. you had recently hit four million followers, and nearly a million views on your paris fashion week vlog. this had become your pastime as you wait for dominic to go onstage, or when you are on flights, or anything of that sort.

after finally finishing the video, you check your instagram immediately after. there had been some rumors, some stories lingering in the air about you and dominic, but he said he didn’t feel like going public for a while, because he wanted to keep things private, and handle what the media saw.

to you, it was valid. you had no prior experience of dating a pretty big name, so you really didn’t mind either way. part of you thought it was fun reading the speculations, watching the few edits, and seeing which fan page got the timeline right. above all, it was calm. no expectations.

but there was a tiny part inside of you that wanted to embrace him in all aspects of your life. your videos, other media, and just going out without sunglasses and a fuckass baseball cap. it wasn’t about wanting to flaunt or parade your relationship, but to just confirm it. but you never told dominic this. you love and respect him, so you would wait until he is ready. or unless the paparazzi catches you kissing.

before you can dwell on it any longer, dominic bursts into the green room. his curls are slightly damp and have begun sticking to his forehead from the humidity, and he is tugging his hoodie off. 

“the guitar amp got absolutely fucked from trasport, but we fixed it”, he says. his eyes drift over to you next to him on the couch, your laptop light flickering and your face blank. his rockstar ego dissipates, replaced by the guy who tumbled around the hotel room with you a few hours ago. “you finish editing baby?”

“just now, yeah.” you say, closing your laptop and setting it down on the coffee table. his lanky, muscly arm pulls you against his side, and he buries his face into the crook of your neck, as you sigh, and grin. your fingers fix his curls, getting them nice and pretty before his show. 

“you smell so good. your smell. best smell ever, on my mama.” he says, muffled into your neck. your eyes drift downward to your phone that buzzes. a #domxy/n speculation on your insta feed, trying to piece the puzzle together.

you stare at it, and a sudden, heavy wave of exhaustion hits you. not quite the exhaustion from the long travel days or long editing stretches. it’s the weight of the covering up with hats and glasses, and the constant, calculated scan of a restaurant before you can sit down, or the creating distance the second you exit a building.

dominic notes your change in mood immediately. “whats wrong baby? you’re quiet. did the video delete or somethin’?” 

“no, the video’s fine.” you sigh, tossing your phone down onto the couch cushions. “just thinking.”

“about?” dom urges, nudging your shoulder. you hesitate, looking at his face. his tan skin, cute button nose, and his eyes that bore into yours, looking like you hung the moon. you love him so much, it hurts. and because you love him, you kept your wants tucked away, not wanting to add to the pressure of his tour. but looking at him now, your exhaustion wins.

“i’m just tired, dom.” you admit carefully. “not like, sleep deprived. just tired of hiding you.” you finish, and he goes still. 

“i respect why we’re doing it, like i don’t need a fucking red carpet debut and i don’t want to parade you around or any of that shit, but i’m tired of pulling my hand away from yours the second we’re in public. i just wanna walk down the street and kiss you if i want too. i don’t know.” you explain.

dominic listens, and his eyes never leave yours. he doesn’t interrupt, or get defensive. he just lets you speak. “y/n,” he murmurs once you finish. “i’m sorry. i’m so so sorry i made you feel hidden away, like i’m ashamed.”

you shake your head. “you didn’t make me feel like that,” you clarify. “i know why we did it.”

“yeah, but i kinda got too comfortable in the bubble.” he says, scratching his hair, and pulling you closer, his breath along your neck. “i was kinda… scared of the whole circus, you know? it feels kinda like, theres a million eyes on you. i wanted to protect this, but it does get suffocating.”

he kisses you gently, before he speaks again. “i love you. i think it’s about time we kiss in restaurants, n’ shit. give me a bit of time, let me talk to reed and make sure they don’t crash our apartments. i promise you.”

“yeah? you’d think about it?” you ask, your lips curving into an excited smile. “i’m already thinkin’ about it. thinkin’ how much better your vlogs are gonna be once i make an appearance.” 

you nod enthusiastically and thank him by kissing his face all over. the moment is unfortunately cut short by reed knocking on the door. “ARE YOU GUYS DECENT??” he says through the door, and you and dominic give each other a teasing look. the two of you have nearly traumatized them enough.

dom gets up and opens the door. “yeah man?” he says, dapping up reed. “you’re on in five.” he says, handing dominic his black microphone. your boyfriend blows you a kiss as he follows reed to the stage.

“also, i- uh, have something important to ask, its about me and y/n.” dominic tries to tell his manager. reed nods, half listening. “yeah, yeah we will talk after. you gotta go on.”

FORTY MINUTES LATER.

now, you are standing in the dim lighting of the stage wings, listening to your boyfriend doing his thing and the crowd screaming along. you always loved concerts, and the bonus of dating one of your favourite artists is that you can attend every one. your eyes trail down his body and outfit, starting with his bare torso as his shirt had been discarded a while ago. he gets really fucking sweaty. he is also sporting the green cargos you had picked out earlier. 

he bounces across the stage with the cutest smile, his chest dripping with sweat. the band finishes playing the outro to ‘Sick’, and everyone screams, anticipating the next song, as he grabs his guitar. 

“hey guys, so uh,” dom speaks into the mic, still regaining his breath. “we’re gonna take a lil detour from the setlist for a sec. the guys back there don’t know we’re doin’ this so…”

there is an excited, confused murmur amongst the crowd before dominic looks over to you in the left wings, and smiles even wider, before looking at the crowd. “i was havin’ a conversation earlier, and it made me think of this song i don’t think i’ve played in a minute, but yeah.” dominic grins, before looking back at you. “this one isn’t on the setlist, but its for my girl.”

the fluttery instrumental of ‘Hey Blondie’ begins from his band, and all the (real) fans cheer as soon as they recognize it. 

and so do you.

well, watch it, ‘cause you’re still workin’

do you ever get weak like monday morning, baby girl?

do you want it to end like sunday? sorry, darling

do you ever get tired like ropes and wires, baby girl?

there’s a million eyes on ya,

there’s a million eyes on ya.

FOUR HOURS LATER.

the concert had ended, and the night had faded into the super early hours of the morning, and you had been singing and dancing those very lyrics around the hotel room, dominic laughing and twirling you around.

dominic kisses you wetly on the mouth, and you both can’t help but bursting out laughing. i love yous and more soft touches were given as you and dominic stay sedentary in each other’s arms. “i- shit wait reed’s calling.” dominic says, interrupted.

“yo” reed says into the phone. “yo, uh if this is about the shoutout,” dominic starts. reed laughs on the other side. “yeah. woulda been great if we talked about it before, maybe done it next show, but what can ya do.”

dominic gulps. “sorry man, is this gonna be like, a problem though?” he questions and your eyes widen guiltily. “i mean, she’s got a cleaner rep than you, so ya’ll should be fine.”

dominic breathes a sigh of relief before hanging up. you pick up your phone for the first time in a few hours, and that shit is burning with notifications. you turn to dom and before you can speak he smiles into a teasing grin.

“should we make a vlog?”

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your hand drifts from elliot's soft bleached curls to cup his jaw, as he tilts his head to push is tongue further into your mouth. his hands are on your waist, slowly pulling your down to lay you on top of him as the two of you make out on top of his sheets. some old soft rock is playing from his record player. “it’s the shit they used to fuck to in the olden days.” he had said earlier, when he put it on. real profound of him.

he sighs against your neck, where he was now slowly sucking deep purple marks into your skin. “fuck,” he groans. “vinyl ended” 

you hum against his hair, already missing the friction of his lips and the small but of facial hair that would scratch along your neck. “don’t you dare get up.” 

elliot laughs against your collarbone. “what, you wanna fuck in silence?” 

“obviously i’d prefer not to but like,” you grind your hips down on his. “i’m already all worked up, elli. don’t ruin the mood.” 

he goes back to placing wet kisses down your throat. “and to think,” he murmurs against your skin. “that when we first met you were scared of my dick. you’ve come a long, long way, baby.”

you scoff and tug on his curls, making him yelp. “i wasn’t scared of your dick.”

it wasn’t that you were scared, you had just never done much of anything with anyone before him. elliot had been your first, for most of the things that counted back then. first time, first smoke, first love. he loved that about you, loved being the one who got to see all those firsts. and although he had many firsts before you, he would always think of you as his first love.

and as the years passed by, his only real love.

you had met elliot at a party the summer before junior year. you were drunk off your ass, and he was high off his, so neither of you could keep your shit together. you ended up falling asleep in his car, woke up beside what used to be a complete stranger, and started dating in october. 

but high school was long gone now. it was a memory that you barely touch anymore. 

after graduation, you went off to university in another state, and elliot stayed in california, trying to make his music thing work. you missed him a lot when you were away, and he missed you too. 

copious amounts of your savings were blown on flights back to california instead of groceries, which your parents had a lot to say about. eventually and obviously, the flights got too expensive, and then they stopped. the monthly visits and the daily facetimes were cut down to the daily facetimes and texting.

until it was weekly facetimes,

turning into monthly,

until the daily texts,

turned into monthly updates.

the drifting was melancholy and prolonged, so much so that you both never even broke up, there was just nothing left to end. but you were in love with him, and he was in love with you. it just didn’t work out.

he would call, and you would pick up, time to time, usually around each others birthdays. and that was pretty much it.

you had grown up after all, and found there was more to life than hotboxing in elliot’s room, and occasionally his car. it would be a lie to say you didn’t miss it sometimes, but as the years went by, you thought about him less and less. and eventually not much at all.

maddy and lexi were the only people from high school you had actually kept in touch with. you see lexi on set constantly now, and you see maddy at events. 

the acting thing had taken off gradually. you booked a small role, then a bigger one, then one in a film people actually saw, and then suddenly vogue was calling you one of the most promising young actresses of the decade and you were on the 30 under 30 list for two years in a row.

the magazines had many titles for you. “enchanting,” “curiously captivating,”. you laugh from your spot on the couch that you were lounging on in your trailer. 

“lexi, i seriously think they chatgpt’d this shit.” you cackle as lexi smiles into her cup of coffee. 

“no, they sound good i promise!” she says, unconvinced. you shake your head, pointing to a line on a page. 

“american mastermind,” you close your eyes and try not to laugh. “i wasn’t even born here.” 

lexi shrugs, and there is a knock at the trailer door. lexi opens it for you as you throw a pink silk robe over yourself, as you were only wearing undergarments. “who is it?” you ask softly, before maddy walks in.

“maddy!” you saunter over and she hugs you, smelling like an expensive perfume. 

“hey babe, it’s been a minute.” she grins at you. 

“what are you doing here?” you ask, still smiling at her.

 maddy taps her nails against the metal frame of the trailer door as she begins to speak. “well, there’s this party tonight. its an album release thing, this band that’s been blowing up. like, niche six months ago and now suddenly everyone’s been a fan for years type shit.” she waves her hand dismissively. “anyway, it’s gotten big. like, a real event. and i heard from some people that some people we know are going to be there.”

“people we know? from where?” you question. you know a lot of people. 

“high school.”

“like who.”

“jules is-”

“jules?” your lips curve into a small smile. “shit, i miss her. that’ll be fun, i’m in-”

“perfect. and you might be wondering why i’m asking, and you know how i’ve been trying to grow my client list,”

“who is the client?” you sigh. “you need to hear me out before you react. cassie.”

you stare at her, trying not to laugh. “howard?”

“jacobs now.” maddy groans.

“no way. didn’t she like-” you start. “yes, she did but i promise you i have a plan and its actually a good one. i need you there because if you show up it’ll gain more traction for the party and-”

“i trust you, babe. it’s chill.” you smile at her. maddy had always been the type of girl to make sure that when she has a plan, she carries that shit out. and this time should be no different. all you had to do was show up, mingle a bit, and dip. maybe check the band out for a bit.

when you got back to your place, you got to work. you loved a party. always have. in highschool, and now. your closet was filled with clothes galore because when you got paid you always went shopping first. 

first, you showered. washed the day off, shaved, and moisturized. makeup next. your liner was thin and precise, as you use the strategy maddy had taught you all those years ago. as you finish your makeup with a gloss over your lined lips, you turn to your closet.

a tiny fitted dress was what you had chosen. not too much, but still hot and accessorizeable. it was gold, shimmery, made you look tanner, and made your tits look great. there wasn’t much room for anything underneath, so you make sure to wear nice underwear, because it was short enough that you had to be deliberate about how you moved and sat.

as you admire it in the mirror, you get a text and realize your ride is here. after a bit of scrolling on your phone, the car pulls up to a mansion in the hills at about ten p.m. you heard the party before you saw it. they must have good speakers because that shit was loud.

stepping out onto the pavement, you straighten up and smooth your dress. the cameras started immediately. just soft clicks that you had now gotten used to. once you get inside, maddy walks over from nearby. “you look insane.” she said over the music. you grin. “and so do you.”

“i’m serious. everyone with a phone is going to try to get a picture tonight.”

you laugh and shake your head. “i’ll mingle for a bit, then i’m out. i hope this works out for whatever plan you have.”

inside, it was warm and the lights were loud. you actually spotted a handful of famous figures that you had met before. it was starting to look like an actual event. maddy gently steered you gently towards the bar, before leaning in to speak to you. “jules is somewhere near the back. cassie’s already here. there are about four journalists here who would eat their own liver to get a candid of you so just… be aware.”

“i’m always aware!” you laugh.

“you’re really not, babe.” she snorts into her orangy drink.

“what do you mean?”

maddy looked at you. some expression crossed her face, one that you couldn't really put your finger on. half guilty, half entertained was what she was getting at.

“nothing.” she says as she takes a slow sip. “maddy.” 

“i just,” she presses her lips together. “i maybe should have mentioned something before. about the band.”

you look at her, dumbfounded. “what about the band?”

“i assumed you knew. because i knew, and lexi knew, even fuckin’ jules knew, and i figured if we knew then obviously you-”

“maddy,” you say again, firmer this time. “what did you not tell me?”

she shakes her head and grins at you. “did you not look them up at all? when i texted you the details about who’s party this is?”

you shrug. “i trusted you and got in the car.” maddy nods slowly. “right, so you didn’t do any research.”

“on what? on the band?” you question, confused as the lights begin to dim. “why would i-”

your sentence gets cut off by a man standing on a raised platform at the end of the room. he was wearing all black with a headset on, assumingly running the event. he taps the microphone before speaking.“hi everyone, sorry to interrupt. we just want to take a quick moment to bring out the people responsible for why we’re all here tonight!”

the room fills with applauses, as you clap along with your drink in your hand, turning toward the platform trying to look interested for this band you didn’t know at all. you made a mental note to look them up after.

the band came out from a nearby side door. there were four of them, and they looked mildly surprised with how many people were there, which you found endearing. they gathered around the mic, and the one on the left adjusted the mic upward to speak, and you felt your heart fall to your ass.

his curls were a bit longer. the frosted tips were gone, and had grown out into his natural brown. he was broader and wider than you had remembered, his stature less lanky. he wore oversized dark wash jeans and a black shirt that had (assumingly) his band’s logo or album cover on it. he looked the same yet completely different all at once.

elliot. the elliot. your elliot.

he said something about being grateful into the mic that made the crowd smile, but you forgot what it was. his voice was the same. low and soft. you didn’t move. your drink was halfway to your mouth and it had been there for approximately two minutes now.

maddy watches you and rubs your back soothingly. you down the rest of your drink, and she takes your cup. “another one?” she asks. you nod. after a few minutes, maddy comes back with your drink and gets whisked away, but so do you. you slip back from the crowd slowly and quietly, giving quick smiles and small waves so you don’t seem off. 

you had gradually migrated towards the edges of the room with your drink in hand, until you found a nice quiet pocket where the music became slightly muffled and the lighting was dimmer. you lean against the wall and look down at the edible sparkles swirling around in your orange drink. your mind can’t help but slip into the past, as much as you try to resist it.

the cigarette he lit and put in your mouth the first night you had smoked in that one parking lot. his hands were warm as he cupped them around yours as he showed you how to inhale without busting a lung. the unfinished verses he played for you on the guitar he had since he was 9 years old, watching you listen instead of watching his own fingers on the guitar. waking up next to him, not caring how late you were for first period. his tan arm laid across your waist, and his lips finding yours as soon as he woke up.

and then the calls getting shorter. and then the grief of losing someone who was still alive, but living a life you are no longer apart of, and having no clear moment to pinpoint, no single time where it ended, just the slow, melancholy drifting a further distance away.

until distance was all there was.

you had moved on fine. you were fine. you had built a real, good life, and you were proud of it, and you thought of him less than you used to. you did.

it was just the fact that the room was dim and too warm, and the music playing was his, and you weren’t prepared.

you set your empty glass on a nearby shelf behind you and try to take some deep breaths. okay. you would say hi to jules, bye to maddy, you would be normal and then go home and sleep. it would be all good tomorrow.

slowly, but surely, you push yourself off the wall and turn towards the exiting hallway, because fuck that. but  then someone said your name. you went still, and turned around.

elliot was there. one hand held a drink, and the other was in his pocket. his curls were slightly damp around his face, he was nervous. he looked at you like his mind was thinking the same thing as yours.

“hey,” he says softly. “hi.” you manage to say back.

he slowly makes his way over to you. “you were about to leave?” he said. “i was just getting some air.” you lie. elliot looks at you with wide eyes. “bullshit.” he scoffs.

“okay,” you sigh. “okay, i was leaving.”

“yeah, i know.” he said, but oddly not judging. “i saw your from the stage.”

“you were looking for me?”

“nah, i wasn’t looking for anything, i just saw you.”

you look up at him, and the soft lighting dances around his face, and behind him the party continued. “you were good up there.” you say. “i uh, i didn’t know it was you. in the band, i mean. i didn’t do my research.” you laugh a bit at this predicament. 

his lips shift into a soft grin. “that’s very you.” he says. “apparently, like, everyone knew but me.” you reply. “maddy texted me that you were coming,” he nods. “like an hour ago.”

a long, melancholy beat of silence passes. “i didn’t know how to get ready for, uh, for seeing you,” you break the silence. “i needed a second. it was definitely a surprise.” you continue, as elliot nods along. “yeah, same here honestly.” he agrees.

“also, you look-” he starts, then decides not to finish whatever he was going to say. “it’s really good to see you.” he said honestly.

“yeah,” you bring your lips into a smile to match his. “you too, elli.”

habit. it felt weird to call him his real name, and you would have, but your mouth jumped the gun before your brain could stop it. 

he reached behind you to pick up your empty glass from the shelf. “come on,” he says quietly. “don’t leave yet.” 

you sigh, knowing there was no way you could say no to him.

the rest of the night was spent walking around with elliot, sticking closely to the walls, as you didn’t feel like being the main event, and he was getting sick of his own band’s party. you chatted a bit, went silent, then chatted again comfortable.

he walked you to your car at the end of the night. he didn’t ask to. he just happened to still be walking alongside you when you had announced to him that you were tired and wanted to go home, and you didn’t say anything about it. the warm california air swirled around you both, just like it used to.

you two stood at the car door for a few minutes, continuing your conversations about the band, your last project, and restaurant that had opened near where apparently both of you live, which was way closer than you realized.

“we should-” you both started at the same time, before laughing at it. “yeah,” he said, finishing the sentence.

when you got home and unready and in bed, you told yourself it was a good night. you talked to old friends, and caught up. normal and chill. and you almost believed it.

THREE DAYS LATER.

he texted you.

elliot

wanna go to that new restaurant we talked about on friday?

you stared at it, like you were texting back a boy on snapchat for the first time.

you

yea sure

dinner was actually easy. too easy, the kind of too easy that leads you staying two hours longer than you were supposed to, the restaurant closing for the night around you without the both of you noticing. you split the bill, and he walked you to your car again. no kiss, but a hug that felt a bit longer than platonic.

elliot

again sometime?

you 

yeah

‘again sometime’ became again the following week. and the week after that. coffee was the hangout this time, which felt more casual. the next was he came to some q&a of yours with the cast from your latest project, and he stood in the back, found you in the crowd after, and told you that you were great. 

and then you went to a small show of his band, and stood near the side of the stage in a box with other stars who supported his band. you stood in the coloured light, watching him do the thing he’d always done as a hobby, and you felt kinda proud.

the calls happened after that. the both of you stopped overthinking them. they would only happen just because you saw something that reminded you of him, just because you were bored, just because. and they were always long. hours long. one time, you fell asleep on call and when you woke up it was still connected, and you could hear his sleepy breathing on the other end.

and just like before, it was gradual enough that you couldn’t pinpoint a moment. except this time, it wasn’t drifting apart, it was falling back together.

there was no backstory, no introductions. the foundation was already built, and the drift back was so soft you barely felt it.

one night, you sat on elliot’s kitchen counter as he made you dinner (again for the third time this week), and he reaches past you to grab something, and didn’t move away after. he looked at you softly.

“hey.” he said gently, the same way he did when he saw you for the first time in a long time at that party. “hey.” you say back. he looks at you for a while with his mouth slightly agape, before finding his wording.

“i missed you.” he said simply, and your throat went tight.

“i missed you too.” you said, admitting. “i missed you the whole time.”

he raises his hands slowly to cradle your face, as he wedges his body between your legs. his thumbs lightly circled your cheekbones and your lips curl into a smile. you could feel his breath. “elliot.” you say, lowly. “yeah.” he replies, like he knows what you are thinking. 

you close the distance. 

he kissed you like if he were to pull away you would drift away again. it was deep, unhurried, and so familiar. his hands slid from cupping your face and into your hair and you lean into him, your hands gripping the front of his shirt gently, and pulling him in, until he was pressed forward with no space in between him and the counter.

you feel his fingers curl at the back of your head and you make a small sound against his mouth and you feel his breathing hitch in response. you pull back to breathe, and he presses his forehead against yours. his thumb traces along your hair and back to your cheek. 

as you hop down from the counter, elliot turns around to plate the food before it burns before turning back around to wrap his arms around your waist and kiss your soft lips again.

 “i knew i’d still feel it.” he hums against your mouth.

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there was no more space for you at home. no more space for you in your hometown. too much partying, drinking, dancing, having fun. they just don’t get it. what the fuck else are your twenties for?

but the silver slipper had space for you.

walking through a dusty california highway, sneakers scuffing against the dry and cracked pavement, the warm desert air tangling in your hair. you had gotten in a big, bad fight with your parents, they were complaining about your work ethic, your future, and other bullshit. they must’ve had enough, because now you had to hitchhike. 

mascara was stinging your eyes and tears made it hard to see, and you kept wiping it with the back of your hand, probably making it worse, but you were no pussy so you kept walking. that’s when a car slowed down beside you. 

alamo’s car.

he let you in the passenger seat without much question. the girls in the back were beautiful, beaded bras glittering from the sun and sharp graphic liner adorning their eyes. they gently fixed your makeup and hair. by the time you arrived at the silver slipper, you felt like yourself again. maybe even a bit better.

and you aren’t stupid. you knew how this looked, but it pays well, gets you free makeup products, pretty outfits, and you always wanted to learn how to throw it back and really dance anyway. 

you were the type to find the good in most things, to smile first and ask questions later. you turned a blind eye to the parts of the job that felt a little too flawed, because the parts that weren’t, you found fun. the music, the lights, and when you actually got to keep your bikini on. you could get paid more if you did special favours, but you could just settle for taking your top off, for now.

a lof of the girls were supportive, surprisingly. they taught you how to give a lap dance, the customers who pay a lot for a little, and the ones who pay a little for a lot. you would do each other’s hair and makeup. the dressing room was always the best part. since you were still learning, some nights you danced and some nights you served drinks, which you didn’t mind.

they kinda saw you as the baby of the group, because you could be a bit slow to things and situations. oblivious, even.

alamo liked it about you. the customers liked it even more.

usually by the end of the night, all the girls would be quiet, tired, a little drunk, and a little high. it was just routine at this point. 

you weren’t the newest for long though, because a week after you came, rue started working at the club. she was cool, chill. kept things somewhat organized in the dressing room. you talked to her quite a bit as the both of you kept interacting.

you conversed with her because you were lonely, rue conversed with you because she was lonely. she also thought you were attractive, which you never really picked up on. not in a way she did much with, but it was there. then again, rue found a lot of the girls here attractive. 

one night you were doing your lashes in the mirror, when rue walked in, duffel bag over one shoulder. “rue?” you said, recognizing her from when you overheard alamo talking about her. “yeah,” she nods at you, dropping the bag in the office beside the dressing room. “you’re the other new hire, huh?”

you shake your head with a smile. “i’m not that new anymore.” you say. 

she almost smiles back at you. “you’ve been here a week longer than me. barely.”

finishing up your makeup, you sit up and take your little robe off, hanging it neatly on the wall full of hooks with clothes draped on them. “nice meeting you, rue.” you say, smiling a cute smile at her, before walking away. rue’s eyes follow your frame, from your pink 6-inch pumps, up to your sparkly thong and matching bra.

after a long night, the dancers file into the office and receive their stacks of cash for the week. you smile kindly after receiving yours, tucking it safely into your bag. you had made a lot of money tonight, just from dancing and flirting, thankfully.

most of the girls had left now. you were sitting on the floor eating your favourite salt and vinegar chips that you buy from the vending machine almost daily, still in your sparkly bra and a pair of sweats because you really couldn’t be bothered with how tired you were right now.

rue came in to do her end of night check, making sure the customers hadn’t left anything behind, because if they did, whatever it was belonged to alamo now. she move around quietly for a bit and sat down next to you.

you offered her the bag, and she took a handful.

“customers weird tonight?” she said eventually.

“they’re always weird.” you tease, smiling at her. you weren’t lying though.

rue liked you. she thought you were sweet. always smiley and you made good money. there was one time, a new customer had walked in. not really throwing tips, not really buying any services. just lurking around you. you kept smiling because that’s the job, but you definitely noticed.

when you got to the back, rue was by the door, waiting for you. “you want me to get alamo to talk to that guy? he’s acting weird as fuck.”

you shake your head, looking up at rue reassuringly. “i’m fine.”

“that’s not what i asked.” rue says, standing there calmly, waiting. just ready. just in case.

“not yet.” you say.

rue nods, and you thank her.

but there was one day, one day where instead of leaving for the night, rue stayed. it had been a couple weeks since you had met her now, and you have moved your relationship status from aquaintances to friends. 

as you take off your makeup and settle into the couch that alamo lets you sleep on in the dressing room, you hear rue talking to someone. assuming its a client you shrug it off. you pull the blanket over your scantily clad body. you did not have many clothes, so you usually just slept in a sports bra and some mini shorts, which you had long since stopped feeling weird about.

you close your eyes and try to drown out the minimal noise of rue and whoever she is talking to. eventually, you fall asleep, your hair fanned out around your head and a sleepy pout on your lips. this sleep doesn’t last long, however. sounds of rue walking in the room and speaking in an urgent, hushed tone fill your ears, and you groggily push the blanket off your face and blink slowly, eyes adjusting to the dim neon lights. 

as your vision comes to focus, you can see rue smoking as she is talking to a boy with curly hair, and grown out frosted tips. he is wearing brown baggy jeans and a beige graphic tee. he makes eye contact with your bleary, puffy eyes, and pouted lips from lack of sleep. the boy points at you and rue looks over, her eyes widening.

“oh shit, i completely forgot you sleep here y/n.” she says, as you sit up, letting the blanket fall.

you give her a bright smile despite your sleepiness, shaking your head. “it’s okay rue, who is this?”

rue smiles back at you. “thanks cutie. this is elliot. he’s a- i know him from high school.” she says, gesturing to the boy whos mouth is agape beside her.

you nod and focus your gaze to elliot. “hi, i’m y/n. i work here with rue.” you pause, then strangely feel the need to clarify. “well, not with her, i don’t do what she does. i dance here.” another pause from you. “which probably sounds worse. i’m a dancer. that’s my job.” you stop yourself before you can make it any more of a thing.

elliot blinks at you. then slowly, he smiled at you.

rue presses her lips together, making a trying not to laugh face as she looks down at her cigarette. “you’re good,” elliot said finally. “i got it.”

“okay.” you said. you then feel like you should be doing something with your hands, so you reach down at the bag of chips that you were snacking on earlier and held it out towards them. “you want some?”

rue made a noise that sounded like a laugh horribly disguised as a cough. but you don’t notice. typical.

elliot looks at rue, then back at you, his smile never disappearing. “yeah, sure.” he took a few strides and arrived at your couch and took a few chips, before sitting down on the floor and leaning against the couch.

rue stayed sedentary in her position on you couch opposite you, one leg thrown over the arm of it as she blows smoke lazily upwards towards the ceiling. her expression found you and elliot’s interactions very entertaining.

you chat with elliot for a little while. small talk. you have always been really good at small talk. could be because you are pretty outgoing, or because you don’t realize when someone is sick of your yapping. even though you loved to talk, you weren’t annoying about it. you only say things you care to say.

elliot listened to you more than he spoke, which you didn’t mind. maybe he was tired, as you were as well. you are used to filling space, and he seemed comfortable letting you.

at some point you got quieter, and your eyes grew heavier.

“she’s fallin’ asleep,” elliot says quietly, looking up at rue.

“she does that,” rue says. “she’s out in like, two minutes when she gets tired.”

you force your eyes back open just to prove a point. “i’m not asleep.”

“you just said you saw a cat walking on the road alone and you wanted to rescue it and then just stopped talking.” rue said. “i do.” you murmur, as you pull the blanket back up your body. your eyes quickly shut again, your lashes splaying against your cheeks.

elliot’s big brown eyes watched you with curiosity.

“cute.” rue says simply as she stubs out her cigarette. elliot doesn’t respond. he just took one more look at you, then pushed himself off the floor and followed rue out the door.

as rue and elliot finally get outside, they are hit with a gust of the warm, dry california air, as the sun was almost up. the two of them lean against the wall, sharing the cigarette. it almost felt like high school all over again. 

“okay so jules-” rue starts.

“how long has she worked there??”

rue looks at elliot, confused. “what?”

“y/n,” he said, gesturing his hands like it was obvious. “how long has she been at the silver slipper.”

rue stares at him, dumbfounded. “like, three weeks. elliot this is important. i was literally just about to-”

“does she always sleep there? like that’s her uh… situation?”

“i mean, yeah, for now probably.” rue took a long drag. “alamo lets her use the couch. she has her little setup with a lamp and her damn-”

“chips?”

“the chips, yeah. she likes those ones a lot.”  rue tilts her head at elliot. “why are you so-”

“jus’ asking.” he shrugs, taking the cigarette from in between rues fingers.

“you’re asking a lot.”

elliot shoves his hands in his pockets and gives the cigarette back to rue. “so she just walked in off the highway and started working here?” 

rue sighs. “from what she tells me, basically yeah. alamo picked her up, and now she’s here. she acts like it’s the best thing that ever happened to her.”

“does she mean it?”

rue shrugs. “i think she actually might. that’s just kinda how she is i guess. anyways, jules has been-” “do you think y/n will-” rue turned to look at him with an exasperated expression. “elliot.” 

his eyes go wide. “what.”

“i’m trying to tell you something like, really fuckin’ important.”

“i know… i’m listening.”

“bullshit.”

he was quiet for a second, then opened his mouth again. “does she always ramble like that? like the thing about the dancing and clarifying ‘n shit?”

rue closed her eyes for a second. “yes. she used to do that to customers until she realized they weren’t listening, they were just staring at her tits.” elliot laughed for a second, and then rue pointed a finger in his face. “you like her.” 

“i just met her.”

“she was literally half asleep and you were basically drooling on her.”

“she’s uh, interesting?”

rue stares at elliot for a long moment. then stubbed out the cigarette. “jules.” she says firmly. “we are talking about jules now.” elliot nods.

he came back three days later.

rue invited him, and put his ass to work. alamo wanted her to move a few things around, and no way she was doing that on her own, and since she knew elliot was fond of seeing his favourite dancer, she knew he’d have no problem with helping out.

and he didn’t.

as elliot was walking by he saw that you were sitting at one of the mirrors in your robe, carefully gluing rhinestones near your eyes with a tiny brush, your tongue poking out the corner of your mouth in concentration.

he stopped walking. “hey!” you smile at his reflection in the mirror. “you came back.” you say, as he grins at you. “yeah, rue needed some help. and i wanted to talk to you again.” he sits next to you.

you end up almost being late for your set as you talk to him. the two of you always get lost in conversation. he asks, you talk, he listens. “good luck, beautiful.” he teases, as you drop your robe and walk out to the main area.

he kept coming back. always ending up near you. you were sitting in the dressing area one night, in your robe, telling him about how you kept slipping on your heels this week.

 “i almost didn’t slip yesterday.” you say proudly. 

he looked down at you, smiling. “almost.”

“i mean, its progress.” 

“sure.” his smile gets wider. “you gonna show me sometime?”

your cheeks started to burn up. “maybe when i stop slipping.”

“i don’t mind if you slip.” he responds, reaching in his pocket and putting a cigarette in your mouth, before lighting it for you.

about an hour later, you got back into the main area, walking around in a baby pink shimmery bikini, and white heels, working the floor. 

elliot was setting some bottles in the bar from a box with rue, with a direct sightline to where you were standing, laughing at something a regular whispered in your ear, your hand on his arm as you sit in his lap.

rue noticed elliot staring, and rolled her eyes playfully, nudging him with her arm. “that’s a regular, danny. he’s got a boat. he tips well, but she thinks he’s boring.” rue says as elliot set down the bottle of casamigos he was holding. “i didn’t say anything.” he says. opening up another box of liquor, rue shakes her head. “you’re too obvious, man.”

the night that followed was like any other for you. dances, tips, drinks, talking with rue and elliot. eventually, the music stopped like it always did.

it was around six a.m. and you were dead asleep on your couch. your hair tousled everywhere, and a blanket half on you.

the door creaked open.

elliot stood still in the doorway for a second, his eyes adjusting to the soft purple glow of the dressing room lights. he had driven past the silver slipper a few times before actually pulling in. rue had asked him to drop something off because she was busy with jules, which was technically true, except rue had said whenever and it was six in the morning.

he set a paper bag down on the vanity quietly, and carefully. then he turned to look at you.

you never left. that’s what had been in the back of elliot’s mind for the past week. you had been here for weeks, and had everything you needed here. elliot kept thinking about it. the whole world you existed in consisted of the couch, the vending machine chips, the hair, makeup, all of it was inside this club.

he hadn’t planned this. he just found himself at a mcdonald’s drive thru early in the morning. a soft sound suddenly came from your mouth, like a yawn.

you blinked, slowly and tiredly, the way you always were when you woke up. your eyes drifted over to him. “elliot?” 

“hey.” he said, casually.

you propped yourself up on an elbow. “where’s rue?”

“not here.” 

you looked around, as if rue was hiding in the fucking walls or something. “you came without rue?”

he shrugs. “yeah.”

you stare at him, before moving your gaze to the paper bag on the vanity. “what’s in the bag?”

“food.” he responds. at this, you sat all the way up, your blanket falling to your lap. your hair was a mess, with fallen out curls and hairspray, and makeup mostly off. “you brought me food?”

“i brought food,” he says. “you can have some if you want.”

you smiled at him, and he smiled right back. “okay.” you said softly as he picks up the paper bag. “here, lets eat in my car. you need to get out of here for a bit.”

his car smells like him. warm, a little cologne-ey and weed. the two of you were sat in the back seat, and you had the paper bag in your lap and the window open. “i don’t have shoes on.” you say, realizing your sleepy mistake.

elliot glanced down at your bare feet and laughs. “i noticed.” you sigh. “i forgot.” elliot shakes his head. “it’s six a.m. s’fine.”

you shrug and open the bag, feeding yourself a few fries. you offered them to elliot first, like you offered the chips.

the two of you sat there, eating quietly and watching the occasional car drive by. “so,” elliot starts. “when’d you last leave here? like, to actually go somewhere.”

you think for a second. “i went to the gas station. last week, i think.” he stares at you, so you clarify. “the one down the road.” 

elliot nods slowly, looking out the window. “that’s what i thought.” you look at him confused, and defensive. “it’s not a big deal,” you said. “i have everything i need here.” 

“vending machine chips.” elliot teases. “they have like six options.” you say seriously. “and the salt and vinegar ones are-” 

“i know, i know.” he said, and he was smiling. he found this very cute. “the best ones.” he finishes. “yeah!” you confirm with a smile of your own.

the bag was pretty much empty now. you had eaten more than him, which he took as a good thing. you twirl your hair in between your fingers as you crumple up the bag, and then notice elliot looking at you. 

“what.” 

“nothin’” he says, smiling.

the two of you were close enough that you could see him very clearly. his curls, his features, and the way he was looking at you. like he could be anywhere else doing god knows what but he was choosing to spend his time here. with you. the pretty dancer from rue’s work.

“elliot,” 

“yeah.” 

he patiently waits for you to finish your sentence but you weren’t fully sure what you wanted to say. his eyes dropped down to your mouth, then slowly back up again. he didn’t move closer, he didn’t want to push it. just waited.

when you closed the distance, it was soft at first. barely there, even. your mouth found his, and his hand slowly came up to your jaw, and rested there. you pressed in a little more and felt him pull you a bit closer. when you pulled back, you were even closer than before.

as your lips curve into a smile, he kisses you again. his other hand was now on your waist, and you moved closer. he kissed you slow and intimate, which made you feel warm all the way down your body. the two of you pulled away after along while, your lips wet and cheeks flush

“you’re really pretty, y/n.” he mumbled, unable to wipe the smile off his face. “you’re really obvious.” you mumble back. he scoffs against your lips. “rue said the same shit.”

you grabbed the empty bag and pushed the door open, your bare feet on the concrete. “thanks for breakfast.” you grin at elliot. “anytime.” he replies, grabbing a pre roll from his glove box and lighting it as you walked away. you didn’t look back, but you were grinning the whole way.

later that night, men filed in for the evening rush. you spot elliot walking around with rue, probably doing something for alamo. you were up on the pole, one leg hooked on it and your feet pointed. the pink and orange lights caught the shimmer on your tiny silver bra. your hair was down and curled, and your heels added a good six inches to your height.

your eyes had found elliot automatically at this point, now used to the sight of him. he and rue were now standing by alamo. rue was doing all the talking, and he was pretending to listen with his arms crossed, but he was watching you. you blew him a kiss, and he grinned lazily, as rue nudged him harshly.

the corridor was cool compared to the heat of the coloured lights onstage. you were walking slowly back to the dressing room, catching your breath. a warm hand wrapped itself around your wrist, and you grinned already knowing who it was.

elliot took you in up close, clearly loving today’s getup. "you’re my favourite dancer.” is what he said quietly before he kissed you.

it was a very different kiss than the car. no patience. his hands were on you immediately, and your fingers were gripping at his shirt, kissing him back. he walked you back until your shoulders made contact with the wall behind you, as you arched into him.

his hands move quickly and firmly. you relished in his touch and the feeling of his lips on yours, as well as the slight taste of weed on his tongue when it came in contact with yours. his fingers were moving nimbly and slipped in your bra, and then the door opened.

rue stood there holding a white bag in one hand as she took in the sight before her. you against the wall, and elliot’s head dropping to your shoulder as he tried his best not to laugh. your eyes are wide, resembling a deer almost getting hit by a fucking car. “rue-” elliot starts.

“it’s fine elliot. just-” her eyes fall to his hand pressed on your tit. “if you guys are gonna fuck, just go to your car.”

she walks back through where she came from, and elliot is grinning. he kisses your jaw before stepping back from against you, and already tugging your hand towards the back exit to the parking lot.

a/n - lmk thoughtssss my inbox is dry go ask questions or req or sum bye bye <33

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