one of a kind collectable

 Her comments about shitty teeny boppers have him dramatically pouting ‘….Hunger Games isn’t shitty, if it was Twilight you know I’d agree, but don’t insult the cinematic greatness of whatever the fuck this century is’ rolling into his stomach ‘….We really need to go out and get some DVD’s if we’re bunking together for the Premiere’s, these pay per view movies are shit.. And I’m not watching some gross horror flick, and we’re not watching Granny Porn”

The suggestion to pick up DVDs was ignored thanks to the startling prediction that this roommate arrangement wouldn’t be a one time thing. “You really think we’re going to have to bunk at every premiere?” Violet quizzed, trying to mask the concern in her voice as her gaze remained stone cold and set on the flickering screen. “Hey, they Notorious Bettie Page is on.” She reported delightedly, excitement buzzing through as she landed on a docudrama covering the life and times of arguably her greatest soul and aesthetic inspirations. “You know I can’t not watch this…”

 Faces together, it’s intimate and in their olden days? They would have probably made out all over the bed, rolled on the makeup and had their bodies painted with a variety of cosmetics, but maybe it’s the weed mellowing them. But there is no urge to do so, instead he focuses on getting the glitter liner perfectly and carving the creases of Violet’s eyelids and the wings of her liner, glitter follows as do bottom lashes and his fingers tap out and dance along the delicate skin until they’re perfect, a dark chocolate shade of Pearl’s own, now infamous bedroom eyes. 

 Pulling back, he wipes over the brushes with a makeup wipe, giving a nod of satisfaction of his handiwork before looking at Violet and holding up a mirror, “So…. What do you think? Can I sleep easy without fear of corset strangulation?”

“Biiiiiitch, I love it,” Violet shrieked, her voice oozing with enthusiasm but the tone was admittedly drained from all the previous smoking. Picking up her phone that laid beside her, she angled the device and snapped a few glamour selfies, immediately uploading it to Instagram with a caption that of course featured a necessarily supreme amount of kissy face emojis. “Ugh, just look at huh,” She sighed happily, though quickly deciding that her moment of insane vanity was over and it was time to float down from that cloud. “I don’t wanna take it off just yet but I also don’t wanna fall asleep with it on, so I at least gotta stay awake for the first movie.” Padding back into the bedroom, Violet flopped onto the bed and turned on the TV to scan through the channels. “Which shouldn’t be a problem if we actually found something good. Something good and not basic unlike Hunger Games or whatever shitty teeny bopper movie you put on last time-“

 He pauses before giving a wolfish grin, “You mean the time I blew you and ended up looking like the Joker and your dick looked like you had the world’s worst case of herpes?”, his gaze softens, the corners of his mouth curving down before rubbing at his over bronzed cheeks with a makeup brush, “Why don’t I show you how to do my eyes and brows? You mentioned you were interested in the lower lash glitter that time? Then maybe find some shitty movie and climb into bed and watch that till we pass out?”

Nodding in approval, the aerialist dove back into the cluttered makeup bag and found some purple glitter from the famed Sugar Pill line. Beaming excitedly she passed it over to Pearl and readied her eyes by closing them and leaning forward. “I swear if you get any of that shit in my eye then I’m gonna strangle you with my corset,” She warned teasingly, sticking out her tongue to accent that she was being lighthearted and not hostile.

Pearl gives a dramatic groan at the mention of lipliner, grumbling playfully ‘But I like my sloppy mug thanks’, though he obediently leans forward to get his lips painted, making a kissy face and dramatic smooching noises at Violet, eyes glinting behind glasses before commenting teasingly ‘Am I pretty yet?’

After she filled in the outline, she pulled out some matte liquid lipstick and applied a generous coat. “There!” She declared, leaning in closer to carefully inspect her finished masterpiece. Finding a dinky little compact mirror inside the ratty makeup kit, she shone it towards her so she could see the end result. “Ooo la la, your lips are looking snatched for once. By the way, I recognized that brand as one of my ‘Kiss and Blow Job proof’ numbers so you’re good to go. I don’t know why you don’t use that instead of that shitty NYC one. Like remember that time in the back of the Uber and you had that red shade on and you thought it’d be a bright idea to-“ She stopped herself when she realized this high apparently didn’t come with a filter. Clearing her throat, she looked away shyly. “So, what did you want to do now?”

 A roaring laugh fills his chest, bubbling through his lips as hands smack his thighs in between desperate gulps for air howling with laughter “IT LITERALLY LOOKS LIKE YOU’VE GOT THE WORLD’S WORST PINK-EYE” giving a snort of laughter only to fall into deeper hysterics peering up through red-rimmed and horrifically made up eyes. “…So wanna order room service and both answer the door?”

After merely sending the poor delivery boy into cardiac arrest, courtesy of their Tim Burton reject mugs, the two returned to the bath tub where they devoured the pizza they ordered. It was quiet as they ate, not a tense quiet, if anything - a relaxing quiet. Violet did break the silence though when she was struck with an idea. “You know, now that I know you own lipliner. I think it’s about time I teach you how to use it, bitch,” She snarked, waggling the stick she had abused before in front of the dirty blond. “Seriously bitch, wipe that sauce off your face. I’ll show you how to achieve my famous Chachki pout.” Once the food filth was cleared, she gravitated to his side of the tub, leaning towards him so they were only a breath apart. First she dabbed on some lip balm as lip scrub as primer before whipping out the liner and precisely drawing a pronounced cupid’s bow and pouty shape around his mouth, her breath steady but hot against his face as she worked. “Purse your lips back and hold still-“

 It’s not exactly how you’d expect him to spend a night in LA, but if anything? It’s what he’d prefer to do, and he’s enjoying Violet’s company, and the slight weight as their knees press together since they are two fully grown twinks crammed into a bath-tub. A tube of candy pink sticky gloss is waved teasingly in Violet’s direction. “Whaddya say Chachki? Up for the challenge?’

Figuring she’d probably need a brush or two, her fingers dove in for seconds, only to accidentally brush Pearl’s own. The moment was sickeningly cliche, the jolt of realization causing her to retract her hand as if his touch had been torched and as a result, she had gotten herself burned. Shaking it off, she decided to get to work on her visionless painting, running through the notions of her usual routine to the best of her ability. From the other end of the tub, she could hear the steadiness of the older’s breath. He too was clearly in deep concentration it seemed. After polishing off what she prayed to be gloss to her pouty brims, she decided that she was done. “Okay…I’m ready when you are….” The future winner alerted, rising upwards so she had a grip on the switch. “Tell me when you’re all wrapped up and we’ll unveil our masterpieces….”

 A few hits later, the bathroom is filled with smoke to the point he’s essentially hot housing himself and after some thoughts broken up by some strangely pulsating brain feelings, has given himself the most brilliant idea known to man though pulling himself from the slightly cracked looking yet still smooth porcelain of the tub seems like a great idea and he pokes his head out of the bathroom, momentarily fixated by the ivory skin with the smoothest texture before drawling out lazily “….Wanna order the world’s ugliest knitted sweaters and get them delivered to Jake and Kevin’s houses so they think they’re getting matching sweaters and see who cracks first and admits they hate it? And you should come get high and we paint each others faces. I’ll even do your hair. I got new hot-rollers”

“God, would smoking even be necessary? I feel like I can get secondhand high just from being in here,” Violet joked, the wafting stench of weed overstimulating her senses the instant she stepped foot in the bathroom. “I’m kidding, bitch. Don’t be greedy,” She assured when she saw the look of hesitation on the other’s face. As he passed her a joint, she plucked it between her cherry pursed lips and gestured for him to light it. The initial hit went straight to her head, the warmth that coursed through her body imitating the heat of the hot boxed room. As she continued to take drags, she used her free hand to unlock her phone and browse online for this aforementioned ugly sweaters that they’d prank their favourite couple with gifting. “I don’t know about Jake but I know Kev hates the colour yellow. So like….a minion sweater maybe?” Stumbling upon a sweatshirt that just featured a mammoth sized face of the overhyped Pixar gremlins, she shrieked with laughter and showed the image to Pearl. “He would fucking die. Like literally. I’m almost scared that this would break them up….” A wicked grin laced across her lips as she took her final hit, smoke blowing everywhere. “Oops, added to cart…”

 He snaps back to attention at Violet’s question and shrugs, waving an idle hand “… Dunno. Probably gonna smoke a joint or two in the bath since it’s a non-smoking room, order room service, watch a shitty movie. Apparently Psycho is on the pay per view which could be cool. Jake and I are getting into Bates Motel so ….” He trails off fingers twiddling his lighter before squinting up at the raven haired queen, “What about you?”

Giggling at the thought of Max being subjected to an evening with someone whom she’d presumes vulgarity put the rest of the drag race girls’ locker room talk (or should she say werk room talk) to shame, she ended the conversation at that. Of course, she could have added in the part that Fame was active in reminding her that Boomer was “a fan of her work”, which according to the rubber doll meant he wanted to bone, but she figured that would seem….desperate. She was done being in competition with Pearl, in every capacity, and that last thing she wanted was for him to think otherwise. Reaching for the remote, she fired up the TV, shopping through the stations for something decent to watch.

His voice breaks off and his fists clench in the pillow burying his face in it muffling the laughter that bubbles up his throat, before just yelling ‘You know what? Just fucking forget it. Forget it. Jake’ll be furious cause it’s like mentally cutting his lunch.. So just… Shut the fuck up okay?’, silence fills the room again as amused eyes meet each other, matching conspiring grins flashing at each other as they band together and he can’t help but wonder if it wasn’t for Fame, would have they actually excelled at the acting challenge? Perhaps they would have, or perhaps they’ll never know but after padding to the door quietly and peering out the peep hole he’s met with the sight of Kevin all but sprinting to his own room and he gives Violet a thumbs up and a victorious crow of “HOOK. LINE. SINKER!”

Never being one to sit idly by as all her limelight was stolen, the bondage babe threw in a few catty remarks of her own. “Yeah? Well speaking of Jake, you know he’s the one I’d rather have stuff me every night but since he’s shacked up with that precious ‘daddy bear’ of yours, I had to settle for second best….and when Katya wasn’t available…I came to you.” Feeling very Alyssa Edwards circa the RuPaul Roast challenge for laughing hysterically at her own jokes, she had to regain the pillow to mute yet another shrieking chuckle. She knew it would especially be a convincing charade since Kevin of all people knew how Violet liked to get impossibly kunty in retaliation.

The report that their performance certainly got a rise out of Kevin had Violet helplessly squealing in laughter, letting out all the hysterics she had to hold back from mid-act. When she finally came down from her giggle high, she sighed. “God, we’re fucking terrible…” Though the way she said it, you could practically hear the smirk in her voice. Readjusting her spot on the bed, she sighed again, a sudden wave of silence lingering through. “So… do you have any plans for tonight?” She asked lamely, desperate apparently to continue the good energy they had going.

  Their eyes meet, wordlessly communicating before Pearl shifts back and forth on the bed having adjusted it early so the bed frame would hit the wall with enough noise to be heard outside and giving one of his best fake moans paired with some dramtic gasps and breathing, arms gripping at the bed-frame the slight muscles of his bicep rippling as he grasps it before giving a loud, “YES, RIGHT THERE. FUCK ME HARDER”, knowing that if anything, it would catch Kevin’s attention and officially set the plan in motion. 

The comeback sex star mostly held her gaze at the wall, but every now and then she’d look over at Pearl, only to suddenly feel flustered when it’d turn out that he was looking right back. Things finally came for a head when her cue was stuttered out, triggering a shift in gears as her best friend’s name fell from her scene partner’s lips rather than her own. Violet was lucky that the moment called for a dramatic pregnant pause, granting her time to snicker into the pillow and getting all of the hysterics out of her system before she launched into her outburst. “What the fuck did you just call me!?” She screeched, volume remarkably high and the passion even higher. “Kevin!? Did you just fucking call me Kevin!?” Wickedly, the vixen reiterated the mistaken name, knowing all too well it would be sending jabs into her assistant’s gut. “Jesus Christ, I always knew you had a thing for him. So what!? Is that why you agreed to do this!? Did you’d think that this would make him jealous or something!?