𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓 / * 𝓈𝑜𝓊𝓇

   “ your british accent is horrendous, by the way — i do not sound that ridiculously posh. i’m from brighton, for fuck’s sake. ” he says with a small chuckle, searching his hoodie’s pockets for the lighter and pack of cigarettes he knew he had in there. or did he pack the rolled tobacco ones today ? he was all over the place, scattered, that it was hard to tell. “ alright, alright — ”  he finally finds a cigarette, putting it between his lips and lighting it as he tries to stand up on the stone they found themselves on top of. with a drag, he removes the cigarette from between his lips to between his fingers, and begins. “ tahlia miller…. you dirty bastard. ” he begins, making a face but unable to hold back the grin that was fighting the frown he was attempting. “ she was kind… to very few. giving…. only to women, and in certain contexts. and most of all, she was the craziest person i’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting. so here’s to you — ” he pauses, turning to tahlia with a grin, “ and in this scenario, you’d be having an open casket, tits up. you may even come back from the dead, who knows ? it wouldn’t be a surprise to me if you faked your own death for the laughs. ”

“Actually, I think I’ll decide what you sound like, Mr. Montgomery.” From beneath raised brows, she watches him search for a cigarette, notices how scattered he seems – more than usual. His energy is most certainly off, but she knows better than to question him. If he wanted to talk, he would. Besides, the last thing she wants is to ruin her own night by diving into Alex’s problems. She would if he needed her to, but she was having far too good of a time to initiate a heart ot heart. Instead, she props herself up on her elbows despite the roughness of the stone digging into her joints and watches Alex’s eulogy. Cackling, she raises her flask to toast her own death, vodka burning her throat as he turns back to her. “Oh, of course. Tits are always out for the viewing.” A slight frown brings her brows together at the thought, jumbled thoughts catapulting over one another in an attempt to consider the idea. “That’s not a bad idea, actually. Would be a fuckin’ riot to see my mother pretend to sob over me – until she finds out I’ve left all my shit to you and Trix.” 

Mysha couldn’t lie that Tahlia was more charming when she was being more tolerable. The common ground helped her warm up as well. “That’s really the best way to put it. They definitely are men about things. And I can say that, I have male friends.” Her tone is deadpan but the last statement is meant to be taken as a joke. It could be hard to tell when she was saying something in jest or not though. “Maybe there’s a rich sugar mama out there somewhere for you.” If you were going to exploit someone’s company Mysha figured you should enjoy it at least a little bit. She didn’t have much to say as far as relationships went but she didn’t need to to speak on her lived experiences with men versus other genders. For example, she had to turn both men and women down when they tried to make a move on her. “Don’t make me kinkshame you.” She sighed as the words came out before realizing that was the exact thing Tahlia had just said she was into. “I was curious to see where you’d go with it.” Mysha shrugged. Her eyes roll back, again, at the jab. “I let loose all the time.” Of course her version of letting loose was probably much different than the other’s, or most people’s for that matter. It could actually be hard to tell when she was relaxed. “Just not like that.” Referencing the kiss comment, she has enough self awareness to know it was not her vibe. “How drunk are you Tahlia?” 

Mysha’s joke is funny, funnier than Tahlia would have expected from the girl who, thus far, had been utterly bland and boring. It has Tahlia snickering, nose crinkling the center of her face. When she laughs, her eyes brighten, enamored by the entertainment, the attention. The suggestion is certainly one she’s considered – at least she can see herself truly connecting with a woman, maybe, one day, falling in love and having a happy life. But, in the end, that thought is far more terrifying than that of tolerating a mediocre man for some time. At least she knew she wouldn’t end up hurt if he died or turned out to be a Scientologist or something. But she doesn’t want to explain all that to Mysha, who certainly hasn’t earned Tahlia’s vulnerability. No, that was reserved for Trixie and, on occasion, Alex. “Come on, Mysha, you know women don’t make as much as men.” She jokes instead, wiggling her eyebrows to indicate she’s mocking the system in question. When she threatens to kinkshame, Tahlia’s eyebrows shoot up again, a devilish smirk curving her lips. “Now I know you’re flirting with me, sweetheart. I’m practically purring.” And her voice has taken on a darker quality, a velvety tone that she’s perfected by new. Once she’s righted herself on the fence, cheeks flushed and hair wild, she faces Mysha with an easy expression, one free of any concern or irritation. The question earns a laugh and another sip of her drink. “Oh, hardly. What, a girl can’t ask to kiss you unless she’s drunk? Never mind, I won’t force you.” 

it  seemed  like  everyone  that came  in  was  more  subdued  than  usual,  and  while  melanie  would’ve  loved  to  say  it  was  because  of  the  atmosphere  of  the  music  store,  they  doubted  it.  so  many  people  had  been  restless  and  antsy  that  it  had  even  affected  melanie,  and  they  were almost  happy  that  it  was  the  opposite  end  of  the  spectrum  this  time.  mel  scrolled  then  clicked,  something  upbeat  but  still  soothing  starting  to  play  as  they  swung  themselves  off  of  the  counter  to  move  towards  where  tahlia  was  standing.  “  looking  for  anything  specific  ?  we  have  some  new  stuff  too  if  you  want  to  look  through  the  boxes.  ”

—

She had fire, he would give her that. He stood up straight looking at her, smirking with intrigue. “Well,” Harrison reasoned, “maybe they’re for my date.” In truth, he had no date, but he wanted to challenge her thinking. He slowly stepped around her, still keeping his eye on her as she waited for the concession guy to get back to the window. 

You know, you are awfully bold, by far the boldest I’ve run into here,” Harrison started, now leaning lightly against the concession stand, “would you say it’s a defense mechanism or a display of your boldness as it truly is?” He saw something in her, something like an equal. Like she was just as much of a wise-ass as he was. A rare thing to come by. 

His smirk is enough to turn her stomach ; though she often canvases bars and clubs for men to flirt with, to mess with, when it’s unsolicited, she wants nothing to do with it. “Okay,” She deadpans, eyebrow arched ever so slightly. “Then your date has terrible taste.” Cold eyes scan him from head to toe, returning to his face with a bored expression. “In more realms than one.” Fully prepared for the conversation to end there, she shifts her gaze back to the concession stand, considering her options until he steps in front of her.

“It’s rude to cut in line.” She drawls before he opens his mouth again – and God, it didn’t get much worse than this. “Congratulations, it’s an honour to meet me.” With a roll of her eyes, she absently considers her options. She could get him drunk, see what he had in his wallet. Or, convince him to ditch his date for her and then steal his date for herself. The thought of that nearly has her giggling out loud. Undecided, she fixes him with an unimpressed stare, his attempt at psychoanalyzing her painfully boring. “Yawn, how about neither?” The concessions worker finally returns and she elbows past the stranger, ordering a coke (for her rum) and a popcorn.

“I don’t think you want me to genuinely answer that.” A bit harsh maybe but if Mysha was anything she was blunt. Despite the small amount of common ground the two of them ran in different circles, for lack of better phrasing. Not that was necessarily opposed just that she wasn’t sure how they could overcome their many differences. She nods in agreement as Tahlia continues to talk however. The animosity appeared to be short lived but the other was still unpredictable. “When you’re the one who built the world and made all the rules of course you’re going to give yourself a pat on the back after a long day of circle jerking with other guys.” Mysha smiles in spite of herself which quickly dissipates after Tahlia’s flirting. It wasn’t that she didn’t like to be flirted with it’s just any attempt to make a pass to her would almost always be deterred. “I’m not flirting.” Her eyes roll back. “I didn’t know that actually and I didn’t need to.” Mysha crosses her arms over her chest and lets out a soft scoff. Trying to impress her was never not an endless, uphill battle. “You know what Tahlia? Something I do admire about you is your blind confidence. What was your plan if I said I did want to find out? I’m curious. Go on.”

Somehow, earning a smile from Mysha feels like a victory, has Tahlia smiling back, genuinely. For all the shit she did and said, she wasn’t always ill-intentioned, in fact, quite frequently she was happy to entertain those around her with her antics. “Exactly.” With her free hand, she snaps her fingers approvingly. “This is why I prefer women. Men are just so….Men.” She shudders, despite the fact that she’d been discussing her Tinder profile literally minutes ago. That was different, though, because that was just for fun, to find someone to mess with and flirt with when she was really bored. Since, apparently, flirting with Mysha wasn’t going to get her anywhere. “Well now you do.” Tahlia chirps, refusing to let her ruin her mood. “Why, thank you.” The compliment has her sitting up straighter, despite the fact that it’s mostly backhanded. “Why do I have to have a plan?” She sips her drink, mildly confused. The concept of a plan had never been something she was good at. “I’m more of a spontaneous kinda gal. C’mon, Mysh, let loose for once. Live a little. Kiss a girl on the side of the street or something.” With a wink, she leans back, tilting her head just enough that she can see the horizon behind her. With the booze in her cup and the craning of her neck, the sky spins just a little, leaving her dizzy when she sits up again with a laugh. 

     “ excuse me, but have you met me ? i’m nothing if i’m not always bitching and moaning about one thing or the other. ” he scoffs, finally getting a good grip on where he was standing, his eyes focusing back on tahlia — and she was right. he did practically beg to hang out with her for a bit, because with tahlia… you’re always on the move. something is always happening and you don’t really have time to get into your own head. therefore, it makes it even easier for alex to avoid the voices that he kept hearing. but not totally gone, he thinks as he hears a faint whisper quickly coast by his ear. but, he shakes it off. instead, he focuses on tahlia’s faux funeral speech. he laughs at the memory of the last time he was that hungover ( her doing, of course ). “ — sorry, who says i haven’t surpassed your body count yet ? you don’t know where my dick goes. or my ass, for that matter. ” he shrugs in a as a matter of fact way. she begins to lift her shirt, and all alex could do was laugh even louder, almost toppling over at the flash of her side boob. she turns to face him, and he begins to clap. “ i think that speech just brought me back from the dead. do another one ! “ he demands, making an encore ! sound at her.

As he applauds her, she folds over in a reckless bow, nearly losing her balance and tumbling over the edge of the ruins in the process – the rush of adrenaline she gets from her wavering steps has her laughing breathlessly again, so vividly alive.”There’s no way you’ve surpassed my body count, love,” She scoffs, tacking a British accent onto the end of her sentence. “And how do you know I don’t know? Maybe I’ve bugged your apartment. They make nanny cams real small nowadays. Like, as small as your dick.” Snickering, she brings her flask to her lips before holding it out to him, as promised. “Ugh, guess I’ll have to kill you again.” But even as she rolls her eyes, she’s grinning affectionately, so obviously joking. “Nah,” She flops onto the stone beside him. “It’s my turn. Do me now.” 

the sudden move on her part, dashing towards him and trying to help, too close for comfort, made him reel a little. rare were the women that were that forward with him– and it was fine by him, honestly. he didn’t know how to be someone else than the friendly-neighborhood fixer-upper with the feminine gents, and most of the time he was fine with that. but that Tahlia, whom he just learnt her name, seemed to be a different kind of woman. he wasn’t really sure she was seeing him, for who he truly was. a pathetic man eating alone at the end of the day.

or was it a game? robbie’s distrust spiked up, watching her.as she mocking him, poor mechanic man in the agora unable to sustain being flirted at? he surveyed their surroundings quickly, searching for the group of young girls inevitably waiting for the right moment to pounce and destroy him. robbie saw nothing, but suspicion did not help with his current case of embarassing blushing. he supposed there was nothing else he could do about that now. “ehh…robbie.” she showed her thigh to him for god’s sake; he was way older than her, he was sure of it. “i hope you’re uh, fully kidding. i don’t want, uh any trouble. you know?”

Of course he didn’t want any trouble – they never wanted trouble, did they? But trouble didn’t usually care whether it was wanted or not – and Tahlia was much the same. Furtive glances are shot around them, as if he’s afraid of who might be watching, afraid of what might be lurking in the shadows. As if the true danger isn’t right in front of his face. With her palms pressed onto the table behind her, she leans back just a bit, studies him curiously down the bridge of her nose. Maybe it’s best if she eases off a bit, let’s him grow a little more comfortable in her presence before she works to bring that blush back. 

“Nice to meet you, Robbie. You’re cute when you blush.” She smiles, smooths her skirt back down with one hand. “Sure, I’m kidding.” Her smile softens a bit, taking in his kind features and thinking, absently, that he would have been nice to have around a bit earlier in her life. That it would be nice if she didn’t have to view him as a life to be ruined and nothing more. Another sip of her water bottle and the burn of the vodka clears all those unsavoury thoughts away. “I can’t promise no trouble, though. That wouldn’t be any fun.”

melanie  had  always  been  the  voice  that  people  heard  humming  in  the  background,  the  sweet  voice  that  often  greeted  them  when  they  pushed  open  the  door.  this  day  was  no  different  with  them  singing  along  to  the  music  traveling  over  the  speakers  as  they  rested  on  their  back  on  top  of  one  of  the  tables  that  they  were  supposed to  be  filling  with  new  records  that  had  just  been  shipped  in.  “  let’s  see,  ”  she  hummed,  flicking  through  their  phone  for  the  next  song  to  come  through  the  speakers  and  almost  missing  the  tinkling  of  the  bell  above  the  door.  “  i’ll  be  with  you  in  a  second  !  ”

𝘰𝘱𝘦𝘯  𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘦𝘳  /  𝘵𝘩𝘦  𝘨𝘰𝘭𝘥𝘦𝘯  𝘭𝘺𝘳𝘦

       𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚎𝚛,  𝚔𝚒𝚌𝚔 𝚏𝚕𝚒𝚙 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚔  ›› 𝚘𝚙𝚎𝚗

they’d been at it for about an hour, instead of locking themselves away in their house —– zahid had jumped on his beat-up skateboard and made his way to KICK FLIP PARK to just throw his body to the mercy of skill and gravity and lose himself in music.   after dropping in to the half-pipe, enjoying the TO-&-FRO  of   momentum,   he angled his feet and careened off to the side where he flicked his board up into his hands and headed off to the grind rails where he had left his backpack.   -— zahid pulled the earphones from his ears, tucked inside his shirt they dangled freely on his chest.

        — &  “the half pipe is free if you wanna use it,” zahid commented to the person nearby, just a general skate park courtesy he was used to, offering them an awkward polite smile before turning his dark eyes back to his backpack and digging through for his cigarettes.

Seated on a nearby bench, dark eyes follow Zahid’s path across the hills and valleys of the skate park from behind dark glasses. She’s just come off a night shift, hasn’t slept at all, but it’s too sunny to curl up in bed just yet, so she’s grabbed her new four-wheel roller skates (bright pink, vintage) and an iced coffee and made for the skate park. Half an hour passes while she works up the courage to set foot – or, rather, skate – on the ramps that seem, suddenly, quite daunting. She doesn’t consider herself to be a particularly cautious person, rather, she takes pride in her sense of adventure and her thrill-seeking nature. But she doesn’t have a helmet on and that concrete looks, well, painful. Maybe if she were drunk, she’d be able to throw herself over the edge without a care, but she’s made a habit of avoiding alcohol on the days she works (how responsible), so it isn’t until Zahid approaches that she stands, a little wobbly on her wheels, and grins.

there  were  very  few  things  that  were  able  to  throw  trixie  off  kilter,  and  sudden  exhaustion  hitting  them  like  a  pile  of  bricks  was  one.  there  was  always  one  constant  that  when  they  were  feeling  down,  they  did  the  one  thing  guaranteed  to  make  them  smile,  and  that   ——  was  shopping.  a  red  dress  hugged  their  curves  as  they  turned  this  way  and  that,  hues  locked  on  their  reflection  in  the mirror  to  check  and  see  how  flattering  the  material  was  on  them.  “  would  this  be  better  in  black  ?  ”  they  voiced  allowed,  finally  stopping  their  shifting  back  and  forth.  “  or  should  i  just  get  both  ?  ”

𝘖𝘗𝘌𝘕  𝘚𝘛𝘈𝘙𝘛𝘌𝘙  /  𝘗𝘈𝘕𝘋𝘖𝘙𝘈'𝘚  𝘊𝘓𝘖𝘚𝘌𝘛

open to all!! at any house/business  at any time

If only there was a way to make turnout gear flame resistant without turning it into a portable sauna. Even worse, Sarah had gone through all the trouble of donning it for a false alarm. 

“Disabling the fire alarm isn’t the answer,” Sarah repeated, exasperated. “Just be a bit more strategic if you’re participating in an activity that makes that much smoke. Have you heard of this super nifty invention called a fan? Or skipping past preventative measures, let’s talk damage control. What about a fire extinguisher?” She wiped the sweat from her forehead, wanting nothing more to shrug out of her jacket. But as the only female firefighter on this call, she couldn’t be the one to undress in front of civilians. 

Sarah’s just the firefighter Tahlia’d been hoping to see when she accidentally let her grilled cheese grow a little extra crispy. Okay, maybe it had actually been an accident — she’d gotten distracted arguing with her neighbour on the balcony, who’d said it was inappropriate for her to smoke on her balcony without pants on and next thing she’d known, her smoke detector was screaming at her. “Okay, well it’s fucking annoying.” She’s still dressed only in a big t-shirt and her underwear, leaning against her kitchen counter where the smoke had finally cleared. “If I stop smoking out my apartment, I’ll have to stop seeing you.” 

It wasn’t a rare sight to see his coworkers out of work. Harley didn’t expect to see Tahlia out and about. He had seen her around the hospital in the pediatric wing. He willingly avoid that area. Kids were not his specialty. He worked better with the elderly. “Tahlia.” He greeted her with a weak smile at her comment. “You sound like Ms Everett.” It was always the elderly woman that usually hit on him at work, he was already used to it. “That and I spent time outside of work.” Harley was a bit of a workaholic. Half his time he spent at work, hardly having any free time. As much as his head was killing him, maybe a drink or two just might help. He raised his gaze to her. “I guess I could use drink. It could help drown out everything.” 

“I don’t know who the fuck that is, babes.” She says with a frown, trying to call to mind a familiar face associated with the name and giving up after a few seconds. After all, she doesn’t particularly care. “I never see you around town, though, I swear you live at that fucking hospital. I don’t know how you do it with those old hags, I’d tear my fucking hair out.” Her nose wrinkles at the thought, no effort made to hide her distaste at the thought of spending more time than absolutely necessary with old people. At least her patients were cute and talked to her about superheroes and dinosaurs. She had the most fun chatting with kids about anything and everything while she prepared their medications or listened to their lungs. “Alright,” Standing suddenly, she grabs his hand and tugs him up, curious to hear more about whatever he wanted to drown out. “Let’s go, the bartender here owes me a free shot.” And with that, she drags him down the street and into a small bar down a side street.

     𝚙𝚒𝚗𝚔 𝚖𝚘𝚘𝚗 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗𝚝  ››  𝚘𝚙𝚎𝚗   ›› 𝚜𝚞𝚗𝚜𝚎𝚝, 𝚜𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚍𝚊𝚢, 𝚜𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚛𝚎 @ 𝚊𝚗𝚢 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚊𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚜

if the day itself hadn’t been so hot then perhaps ralph wouldn’t have gone down to the shore after having dinner — there weren’t any waves worth catching, so he paddled out and just enjoyed sitting atop his board and watching the sun creep down below the horizon with his feet dangling in the water, then dipping under for what felt like fine minutes (it was, in reality, closer to nine, but ralph has no clue of that…) —- and watched the sunset from beneath the cresting waves, salt water in his eyes having NEVER been an issue.  – — but before it could get TOO dark, ralph headed back to shore and pulled himself out of the lapping ocean, shaking off beads of water with his board tucked up under a tattooed arm. he still felt warm despite the swim, it seemed to be increasing but he didn’t feel SICK or anything… just hot and bothered.  in the literal and a slight colloquial sense.

with a little grunt of exertion, he speared his board in the pliable, sand —- upon stepping back, noting the presence of another on the shoreline. “evenin,” he greeted, having been on he island for eight years, it was rare to NOT at least know a face, “planning on trying to cool off too, or is that just me?”

Looking out at the waves that roll along the horizon, Tahlia feels the same eternal restlessness within herself. It’s as if her body is a vessel for a stormy sea, tossing and turning, begging for a scrap of excitement with each passing moment. All week, she’s felt anticipation building, a restless energy ebbing like the pull of the tides, and today, the wave crests, leaving her at once euphoric and uncertain. She feels stronger, more powerful, yet she feels a little less like herself and a little more like the stormy sea she houses. 

well, perhaps he smelled like old grease andoil, but that woman oozed … booze? he couldn’t really specify, nor did he care too, too shocked at the ease with which she made this table her new home. he tried a polite smile, shaking his head lightly at her offer. “uh, no thank you. it’s kind of you though.” he reached out though for two little napkins on his tray, trying to dab as much liquid as he could, both on the table and his lap. definitely, definitely, trying to avoid that yound woman’s intense stare. he felt heat rushing up his neck, tall-tale story of him starting to blush. which, he really could do without right now.

he kept a comment about how unwise it was to shareyour drink to the first stranger you meet in a market filled with drunk people – he had an inkling that she wouldn’t like him very much. “your hip is alright, though? you hit the table pretty hard.” with nothing else to do, eyes rose up back to her. “there’s alot of people tonight.” his brain was screaming for him to stop talking please, before he embarassed himself. which, to be fair, had already been done.

It’s kind of her. Tahlia’s been called many things, but kind is never one of them – she has to bite back the laugh that springs up at the thought. Everything’s just a bit brighter, including the man before her, who seems to She’s halfway through another sip when she notices him dabbing at his lap, nearly choking on the liquor as she lunges forward suddenly. “Of course, your lap, I’m such a ditz, here, let me help.” She grabs another handful of napkins, leaning forward to soak up the spill on the table. It’s all intentional, of course, the motion allowing her top to dip just a little lower, her hair to swing in front of her face bashfully, the gesture a demonstration of her apparent kindness. His blush doesn’t go unnoticed, earning a secret smile as Tahlia sits back down across from him – she hasn’t even done anything yet. 

Her hip really is aching, though, the bump sure to leave a bruise – though she’s no stranger to bumps and bruises. Her escapades across the island earn her plenty of scrapes, as do the drunken nights and hungover mornings where she’s just as likely to walk into the edge of the counter or trip over last night’s underwear. “I don’t know.” Her head swims as she stands again, coming around to hop up on the table beside him, still sticky against her bare thighs from his spilled drink. Resting her feet against the bench he’s seated on, she pulls up the hem of her skirt, revealing her bare thigh and the edge of her hip where it’s red from grazing the table. “Kiss it better?” She knows this is far too brash for him, who’s blushing simply from her presence, and offers it with a laugh full of life. “I’m just kidding. Half. I’m Tahlia.”