✧ : ❝ THE RESISTANCE ❗ )

KALEAH: well, i'm not gonna stop texting u anyways lol

KALEAH: but you're ALWAYS focused on work, even when ur not there :(

KALEAH: u would never

KALEAH: stop bein MEAN

EMERSON: great...

EMERSON: exactly, you know i'm about my money. how you think i spoil your ass ? money doesn't just appear out of thin air.

EMERSON: i will if i have to babe, i gave you a warning.

          she’d rather be passed out in a puddle of her own vomit than come face to face with emerson ( although on second thought, perhaps not — the third time this week wouldn’t do much for her road to sobriety ). the image is still vivid, him & her ( not her as in zahra but some filthy slut who much to zahra’s dismay had a waist to hips ratio the starlet would have KILLED for ) unclothed, em’s fingers scraping across every inch of her body. there it was again the bile that seemed to find its way into her throat at even the slightest memory of the situation. she curls her jittery fingers around her newly acquired drink ( she’s not nearly as fucked as she’d like to be for this situation ) as a part of her hopes he’ll leave but a bigger part of her hopes he’ll stay ; it’s that bigger part of her that landed her in this fucking situation with emerson to begin with. ❛ my bad ?! that’s all you have to say for yourself ?! my bad ?! ❜ she sputters out a portion of her drink drunkenly , now certainly isn’t the best time to be ladylike. ❛ you fucked some dirty WHORE while you claimed to care for me. how’re you gonna make that up to me, huh ?! ❜ she watches his hand fall in front of hers and zahra wants to reach for it, she wants to reach for it because she knows he’s HOME, he’s her SAFETY, the closest she’s been to feeling more than a lifeless industry puppet in years. instead, she finds herself violently swatting it away from herself before stumbling to pull herself up from her seat. breathing in a shaky breath, she manages to peer up at him through long, wispy lashes. seconds later, her fists meet his chest with as much drunken force as she can muster. ❛ i hate you, i fuckin’ hate you, i hate you. ❜ if she says it enough, maybe she’ll finally believe it. 

“i’m making ‘buy a beach house, pay off loans and have money leftover’ bank.“ the female gloating about her finances was a rare occasion, especially because what she was saying was true. “you want me to be your sugar mama, you gon’ have to appreciate me a little more. and are you not a broke daddy?” ona rose a brow, an expression of disbelief clear on her features. “and why should i exactly?”

“trust me, i can afford a beach house if i wanted to – but i’m not quite worried about my cable when i get home. i’m worried about sleeping.” narrowing her eyes as he laughed, she reached a hand out to flick against his ear. “big daddy? more like broke daddy. i don’t even miss the people who pay to pipe me down.”

          HOSTILITY ? ha, hilarious !  this was zahra being…, civil. she could hear the familiar voice of her therapist buzzing through her liquor stained thoughts. learn to let go, zahra. ❛ learn to let go, zahra. ❜ she mutters under her breath before tossing her head back to down the remains of the fruity drink in hand. ❛ i don’t NEED to do anything— ❜ she pauses to let her gaze trail across his physique. oh, how she regrets not dumping the remains of that drink over his stupidly, handsome face. letting out a small laugh, she rolls her eyes, unbothered by his ‘words’ ( or so she’ll tell herself for now ). she was learning to let go but importantly she was learning to let go of her naivety; there was NO WAY she would fall for his shit again. ❛ fuck off, before you’re wearing my next drink. ❜ 

“wow, it’s almost like i once was a broke college student before putting my pussy on a pedestal. and your company is good until you start complainin’. i mean, i could easily replace your company, my man.”

          there’s nothing she likes less than an unwanted visitor. peering through the sunglasses now resting on the tip of her nose, she frowns. ‘ what’re you doing HERE ? ’