primma donna / *

the full details, she wants the full details. truth is the night is foggy and the cloud still looms over her like some sick reminder of that which she cannot hold, cannot have, cannot enjoy. calista remembers stepping out of the car with flushed cheeks and a hand wrapped tightly around an arm, she remembers eyes drawn to the pair, practiced smiles offered, kisses on cheeks, on hands like some princess walking into a ball. she remembers the constant chill running through her back whenever she came to gaze up at the ceiling– dusty and creaking. the mindless encounters, the pretty lights dancing, thick smoke leaving mouths, accumulating, intoxicating. the moon and the stars, a crashing body and the taste of tequila,  vodka, the bright kitchen crowded with booze and red cups and salt, bambi’s pleading eyes and her voice raised and out to sting venom, her white skirt lost but more than anything the chance of oblivion lost. she remembers alright but it’s all so very meaningless she may as well not recall anything but the constant need to go home– even if the word home back then did not mean her house at linacre, did not even mean her house back in rio. looking back on things, she still perhaps feels like going home. calista takes a sip from her drink… maybe it’s a gulp but her actions with louisa there are rarely ever to put up a show. swift, quick, somewhat honest but never leaving much chance for comment, always kind of hoping she does not actually notice. she gives a little shake of her head, hand discarding her question, “you first” the girl commands, adjusting her seat on the couch.

calista looks down at her fingers fidgeting with the sock as she replies “what? do you want it to be more?” a smile, teasing but teasing at what? It’s not like the thought has not crossed her mind after all of those years. it’s not like she doesn’t notice the stolen glances and the lame-ass excuses. she may not be one of rye’s stop students but calista has spent her entire life analyzing social situations and adapting herself to them, turning them around and making them work in her best interest…. but the truth is the girl is left absolutely clueless when it comes to turning that situation around and the thought of it more often than not just brings her down. so she just doesn’t, she avoids thinking about it and settles to thrive under his pretty smile, his jealous gaze, his unconditional attention. lashes flutter up, gaze meets lu’s at last and she has to take another sip from her drink to shove down the knot in her throat, dry up the gleam in her eyes because god she will not cry. a bite at her bottom lip that threatens to draw blood, “it’s max” calista corrects with a roll of eyes, “you know who I’m talking about” a pause, and then a tilt of her head because…. lu did know, did she not? “right?– anyway, we’re just friends and we both know that so drop it”. an effort to shut down something she knew all too well would be harder to shut down. the memory of a walk home late at night with the pretty stars and his dumbest jokes and their smiles and their occasional held hands… it’s comforting but it carries something bittersweet. like some parasite well hidden in the fibers of the memory, hidden until messed with because then it’ll scream and fight and destroy anything in its path. “are you cold?” she tries to divert, hand reaching for a soft throw on a basket by their side.

maybe, some other time, some other day, louisa might’ve been able to get away with it. but it’s cold, the house’s been empty for most part of the week and it’s hollowness has come to settle certain melancholia in the girl. a little more than usual sometimes, it comes and goes in waves, sometimes it’s just a mist in the air and some other times it just threatens to drag her downing uncertain depths where it’s pitch black and she can only see her breath. concern floods her– at what she can’t even begin to say, think. ‘i got into a fight with teddy’– that’s one, brown eyes still search for the remains of the fight, the black eye. Not surprising, not at all. and even though calista has no issues with teddy whatsoever (even considered her a friend of sorts sometimes), a hand that reaches for her friend serves as a reminder of where her allegiance lies. she doesn’t fish for an answer or some further explanation because what doesn’t sit well in the topic ahead. later, they could come back to that later. calista decides and pays careful attention when the word ‘no’ leaves her lips. And then a yes, a plea lingering in her eyes for just a second before twisting into mischief, one calista cannot buy, will not buy. Fingers wrap a little tighter– in confort of reproach, perhaps actually both. eyes dig into louisa’s with an arched brow “and I don’t doubt that” she points out, comments of the past hinting calista through the past, the two leaving crumbs of bread for her to follow in silence and amusement at times… but this feels different, this feels dangerous. “you know louisa, with that performance you’re only getting to the oscar’s as somebody’s date”. sharp and maybe a little risky, maybe deserving of one of her tantrums… but necessary nonetheless.

“i asked first,” she challenges. an ill attempt to buy herself more time, to find some type of adequate answer to give to the girl. if she’s being sincere, it comes back in flashes. a hazy dream filled with random snapshots of a night she couldn’t quite forget and yet couldn’t bring herself to remember. the night becoming more like still life portraits that she could try to paint from the emotions that ran through her body those fateful hours. if she were being honest, she’d tell cali how she was the catalyst that caused louisa to run full force into a web of questionable decisions. spite born out of loneliness, something she took out on cali when she showed up on duke’s arm. no doubt that the alcohol she’d consumed only intensified the negativity that was running through her veins when she lashed out. her best friends words cutting deep knowing that cali never shot to miss, the venom laced words were meant to hurt, and more than that, were actual truths. self-loathing turning into self-projection as lu thought she found a cheap shot to direct her ire towards except for once, teddy managed to surprise her and fight back. her sobriety was questionable by then, words fueled by the recklessness of one too many drinks. spewing poison she knew would sting though words she normally would never dare say. there were limits, boundaries, even louisa was usually rational enough to know the difference. usually. irrational logic made her seek an eye for an eye, even if teddy hadn’t been the one to initially hurt her. funny how she ended up being the one to physically add to that pain though. in hindsight, that should have been the tipping point of the night. it wasn’t every day she got punched in the face but then again, it wasn’t every day she felt butterflies for the one person she swore up and down she hated. which despite one chaotic decision after another that seemed to follow her that night, sitting outside with mikel had easily been the most confusing part of it all and somehow the most real. if she were to be honest, she’d share the moments that seemed to be most ingrained in her mind and in her heart. except, louisa’s never been one to be honest. not even with the one person she’d call her twin flame. which was perhaps why their friendship worked so well because despite how well the two knew the other, there was also a silent understanding that there was more to both that met the eye. keeping each other close while at arm’s length all at once.

emilia: insulting me is not the way to my heart or to get me to answer

emilia: if i were you, i'd just drop it. it's a boring answer from a boring girl

emilia: when did you last cry?

𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐢𝐬𝐚: my b, didn't think you'd like take it as an insult

𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐢𝐬𝐚: so then why are you avoiding the question?

“You’re the one who came here, Louisa!” If she wanted to play that game, he’d walk right back to his bed and leave her there to wait. It wasn’t like he asked for visitors. “You’re never feeling nice.” Duke took the bag, rolling his eyes as she moved him out of the way. “Yeah, welcome in, come right this way. God, you really are impatient this morning.” It was nauseating, he didn’t know how to deal with it. “So I’m going to ask again and you’re going to tell me, what’s this for?”

“yeah, and now i’m starting to question it,” she shoots back. for the record, a lie. her friendship with duke meant enough for her to come and apologize — or at least try to. hoping he’d be able to put the mess of the party behind them without her actually having to say the words though it was clear that wasn’t going to happen. a half smirk cracking on the corner of her lips by his statement. “i’m always feeling nice, it’s not my fault people have a habit of pissing me off,” she retorts. “what?” she whines innocently as she invites herself to take a seat at the kitchen table, “you really want to eat cold burgers for breakfast?” hazel eyes fall on him as she stares at him with sheer amusement, the question while valid, seemed more like a threat she wanted to defy. but she hadn’t come to fight duke any more. “i was a bitch ad you didn’t deserve it, for once,” she starts, “so, this is my way of making it up to you. happy?"

𝐝𝐲𝐥𝐚𝐧: i'm never not paying attention :)

𝐝𝐲𝐥𝐚𝐧: okay nice

𝐝𝐲𝐥𝐚𝐧: i'm indifferent to them. they're def not my thing but i wouldn't slap it outta someone's hand

𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐢𝐬𝐚: good :)

𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐢𝐬𝐚: hmm, okay

BRIGID: you're definitely right

BRIGID: i think faith in anything can be really difficult a lot of the time but maybe that's just me?

BRIGID: sometimes things just seem so pointless

BRIGID: but i also can't find peace living like that either so searching for meaning in the midst of chaos will be my life's purpose i suppose

𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐢𝐬𝐚: i usually am

𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐢𝐬𝐚: no, i get that. especially when it's not something you can physically measure? i know that's the entire point of having faith in anything but still

𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐢𝐬𝐚: rt

𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐢𝐬𝐚: sounds enlightening

avery: i love the power

avery: well, do we want to do this bachelor style

avery: maybe an audition?

avery: you have to think outside the box

𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐢𝐬𝐚: i can see

𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐢𝐬𝐚: i guess? i don't really have a different way in mind to do that

𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐢𝐬𝐚: that's what i had been thinking, i booked the auditorium for the weekend

.

“Then you must be weird too because don’t forget that unfortunately we are related,” he says with a mocking grin. His eyebrows furrow and he thinks that he could actually use that as an excuse but then he shakes his head because the Catholic guilt that had been engraved by his grandparents was too strong to continue this lie. “That’s not what I meant. Plus, you can’t save yourself for marriage when you’ve done the thing,” he says and he knows it’s a blantant lie but how would she know? HOW? “Ah yes, I forgot your goal in life is too ruin my life,” he says with a sigh. “Pues mejor ser aburrido que una niña berrinchuda como vos,” he says, pushing her back, again.

“don’t remind me of your parents ill-fated decision to procreate,” she shoots back, “though that’s still yet to be confirmed — mas bien como que eres hijo del lechero” there’s a smirk on her lips that challenges the mocking grin on his, almost always having something to shoot back at him. brows knit for a moment as hazel hues look at him in momentarily disbelief before a taunting smile curves on the corner of her lips. “done the thing?” she laughs, sarcasm dripping from her tongue, “bobo, if you can’t even call it by what it is, how do you expect anyone to believe you’ve actually done it? it’s sex, gael. s-e-x. do you need me to give you the birds and bees talk or do you actually know how it works?” perhaps her words are a bit crude, not very ladylike as one would hope but lu hadn’t been the one whose values and traditions had been instilled in her. her mother was the black sheep of the family which by default meant louisa fell into that category as well. she looks at him expectantly, gaze observing him for a moment before she rolls her eyes. “no, i think you’ve done quite a good job at ruining your own life without me even having to lift a finger,” she shoots back and for once, she feels guilty knowing she took it a step too far. the smirk on her lips falling for a moment, wanting to apologize for what she just said and explaining she meant nothing by it but too proud to admit she did anything wrong. “stop pushing me!” she whines instead, pushing him back once again, “berrinchudad pero por lo menos me divierto.”

minjun: was it a mess? i don't remember much of the evening truthfully, made it home in one piece though.

minjun: it's fine, an average sunday for the most part.

𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐢𝐬𝐚: just a bit. there was a lot going on. i would argue that's for the best. glad you made it home in one piece

𝐝𝐲𝐥𝐚𝐧: oh i know, i've noticed

𝐝𝐲𝐥𝐚𝐧: umm hikes, horseback rides, trips to the beach, tattoos, piercings, cliff jumping, sky diving, that kind of stuff

𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐢𝐬𝐚: glad you're paying attention (:

𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐢𝐬𝐚: ah, gotcha. okay, this is good to know

danilo: And yet

danilo: One wasn't

danilo: Good night, good life

danilo: Leave me alone

𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐢𝐬𝐚: yeah, well, it was a momentary lapse of judgement

𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐢𝐬𝐚: wtf? why are you so rude

𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐢𝐬𝐚: i wouldn't be too sure about that just yet

avery: you know i have my ways

avery: c'mon, let me help :]

𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐢𝐬𝐚: fine, i'm curious enough to let you help

mikel: i do

mikel: i don't think one punch in the face would have stopped you from keep talking and provoking her

mikel: it's a little weird but i like it

mikel: you should because i dont say that lightly

𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐢𝐬𝐚: no but i really don't think she would have punched me again

𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐢𝐬𝐚: hmm. weird?

ava: by the time you get to my place i will already be at the airport on the next flight to budapest

ava: you wouldn't get it, so forget it

ava: ew why would you say that?

𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐢𝐬𝐚: your point? you say that like i don't have access to a private jet and a passport

𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐢𝐬𝐚: try me

mikel: yeah right...

mikel: you def wouldn't have ended up with two black eyes

mikel: pretty great huh? yeah i agree

mikel: are you flirting with me rn?

*two minutes later*

mikel: i'd like that too... a lot

𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐢𝐬𝐚: i did

𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐢𝐬𝐚: says you. do you really think teddy would have punched me again?

𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐢𝐬𝐚: not my best work but i guess i am?? is that too weird?

*three minutes later*