𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒓 𝒎𝒚 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒅

(  yasemin yazici, cis female, she/her, muse j  )  oh snap ! is that NISA SUNAY ? they work over at high volume where some of the other employees have labeled them as THE AFFLUENT. that’s probably because they can be a bit ( magnetic ) but also pretty ( selfish ). they’re 22 and they’ve been living in woodstock for ONE MONTH. it must be their shift because i totally hear BRUCE SPRINGSTEEN blasting from the record store. @volumeupdates​

          “eh, who cares? it’s all propaganda anyway.” her mothers would likely be horrified at how little sloane pays attention to news, but it’s not something that’ll change anytime soon. a laugh bursts out of her at nisa’s plan. “‘course i’m okay with cheating. besides, that’s way better than anything i got. all i could come up with was just deliberately sabotaging wes’s team, and i didn’t even have any details ironed out. it’s not like doing anything to his teammate will affect their performance.” she rolls her eyes, mostly to herself. for a few moments, they walk in a comfortable, synchronized silence. “still feels surreal that the boat just sank like that. not that i felt great about any of it, but–” she lets out a low whistle. “what a way to end with a bang.” sloane had imagined about fifty different worst case scenarios, and still, none of that even compared to the reality.

If he thought was she said before was surprising, it doesn’t even come close to right now. He remembers Nisa being brazen and outspoken when they had first met, so maybe he shouldn’t be surprised. Except, once again, to his detriment, it shows that he’s caught off guard. It’s mere seconds and he realizes that it’s actually amusing. This whole thing keeps getting more and more amusing by the minute, knowing she’s more than ready to shoot back at whatever he says. Caught off guard or not, Chase isn’t giving her the satisfaction. Though it’s probably obvious to both sides right now that they remember way more of that night than they’re both letting on. “Must’ve been unmemorable if you gotta jog my memory, Nisa.” He tilts his head, too, mimicking her and keeps his tone neutral with just a hint of taunting in it. “Just once. You expect me to believe that?” He scoffs, a shadow of a smile curving up his lips as he shakes his head. He’s not surprised it had been with Eric of all people. “No, I don’t really want to stick around and clean.” He hates the night shift. “You say ‘we’ as if you’re going to help out.” But he’s already going to the cash register to lock it as he says that.

          her lips press together in a thin line. it’s a kind assessment of her personality, but she’s starting to think she scares easier than she expected. sloane’s head swivels left, then right, and left again before she judges the street safe enough to be crossed. “it was a tough decision.” she chuckles, squeezing nisa’s arm gently. “agonized for days. people were protesting, storming the gates.” they step back onto the sidewalk, continuing down the street towards home. “but it’ll take more than a near death experience to get rid of me.” there are still the reasons she can’t confess, of course— the ones that will change the way nisa sees her. she’s not willing to screw that up right now. “losing to wes’s team for the third week in a row might do it though.”

        wes mirrors nisa’s grin. with the majority of his new coworkers either disliking him or vice versa, there seems to be an easiness with nisa. she reminds him of the type of people he came across in chicago and the bantering is a nice change of pace, especially since she’s prone to playing along. “i would never assume your preferred position.” he raises his arms in playful defense. when the bartender slides him his drink he’s quick to grab the glass and take a sip, then cranes his head to observe his partner for a moment. his partner is more of a placeholder than anything. given his obsession with absorbing any information he can find several of topics, regardless of his interest level, wesley is more than capable of handling trivia night on his own. but, having someone else at his table is good for moral support. wes diverts his gaze back to the other. “he’s just here to find a cute girl. if you think he cares about trivia, you would be making an erroneous assumption.” he raises his brows. “know of any?”

status : closed for @nisafm​ setting : high volume, slow part of an afternoon shift ( free them )

     ❝ HEY, WHAT’S THE FIRST THING you do when you walk into a party? ❞ the question, while random, doesn’t come out of thin air. as trip pops himself up onto the counter beside nisa, he sets a small stack of j-14 issues to his left and shakes out the one he has flipped open in his hand. after checking to make sure nisa is at least somewhat paying attention, he continues, ❝ do you, a, find your best buds ASAP ; b, say hi to everyone you know - slash - introduce yourself to anyone you haven’t met ; or c, scope out all the cute boys ? ❞ the last option is said with an air of dramatics, complete with a flip of his hair and a heavy emphasis on cute boys ( squee !! )

@nisafm​ // freddy’s diner

jamie munches absentmindedly on one of his fries, the knots turning in his stomach completely unrelated to his appetite. he and nisa have made themselves comfortable on the same side of a booth, his arm slung casually around her like those couples he’s always hated seeing in public. but now that he’s on the other side of it, jamie doesn’t give a fuck if they annoy their fellow diners. he’s always done what he wants, and what he wants is to be close to nisa. actually, he wants even more than that with nisa.

“oh, did i tell you about last night? marty and i stole a boat,” he chuckles. “temporarily borrowed, really.” 

         jamie had surprised nisa when he slid into the booth next to her. admittedly, she hadn’t thought him to be the type to be so casually — and sweetly — affectionate. it’s a pleasant surprise.

– BLAIR FURROWS HER BROW. she doesn’t mean to, she doesn’t intend to give ANYTHING away in this conversation, but she can’t help herself. “ well, ” she exhales, “ i think people only ask for less than they want because they’re afraid they can’t have more. and i know for a fact that you could. ” she doesn’t mean herself, it barely crosses her mind – she still hasn’t figured out what she has to really offer anyone, but she does know that someone like nisa could have so much more than the smallest amount, that if it’s made someone as used up as blair even THINK about trying, then there must be people out there, better people, who would do much more than that. after all, she gets it – she’s a flight risk that most people wouldn’t be willing to bank on. she can’t really blame nisa for her choice. 

because that’s what it was – a choice. anyone who knows jamie well enough to know about his mother must also know that he and blair have a bond that transcends blood. and escalating things with him, that was an unspoken decision, a line even blair wouldn’t have any intentions to cross. 

“ you’re so … well, you know what i think of you, ” she says, teeth digging into her lower lip. the words infuriating, irritating, annoying, and every other shade have already been used. “ and it was obvious from the start, how different we are. which is probably why everything you’re saying sounds fucking ridiculous to me, ” she adds sharply. and it’s true. blair wants passion that burns, and life’s too short to spend time wondering and worrying over when it’ll be snuffed out. still, for a girl that keeps going on about wanting something ‘solid,’ blair will never get the logic surrounding jamie singh as bachelor number one. again, not like she has any room to talk. but that’s the whole point, and the part that hurts the most : she doesn’t think she and jamie are all that different.

tongue traces the line of her teeth as she shakes her head, a look of disappointment. then she shrugs. “ but before you get on your high horse, i’ll remind you that you never even asked me what i might want. ” gaze lingers on nisa’s face and she hesitates, like she’s not sure if she should say more. she’s said too much as it is. her gaze softens, cheeks dark red, and she turns slightly to go – but her mouth is always one step ahead of her, “ which is fine. because i don’t want you. at least … clearly not how you want to be wanted. and either way, he’s … actually really into you. so, maybe don’t give up on him just yet. not that easily. ” 

         nisa doesn’t respond, frustrated with the way blair seems to be missing her point. a relationship is something that’s built by two people, she’ll ask for more as things get more serious. she doesn’t need someone to be perfect, or to promise her the world, she just wants someone that’s willing to try and figure things out with her. 

“obvious to who?” nisa snaps, suddenly annoyed with how dismissive blair’s being, like she has never seriously considered her. but then again, maybe she hasn’t. maybe blair’s never turned their conversations over in her mind, searching for meaning within nisa’s words. maybe blair hasn’t searched for parts of her to hold onto: the pictures on her walls, the trinkets on her dresser, the color of her duvet. maybe their conversation at battle of the bands hadn’t left blair with the same sense of belonging. woodstock is blair’s home, she shouldn’t need nisa for that. and clearly, blair hasn’t studied nisa closely enough to realize that while they might look different, and they might want different things, inside, they’re more alike than not. “blair, from the start, you were the only person here i thought had any chance of understanding me without me having to explain myself.” she stops then, swallowing around the lump that’s formed in her throat. it’s a good thing she’s never had a problem talking about herself. 

blair turns and nisa takes a step towards her, reaching out to grab her wrist to stop her from leaving. it’s not fair, nisa knows this, but she’s not ready to let blair leave on those answers. it’s who she is: infuriating, unable to leave things alone; she has to pick them apart. “maybe that’s why i haven’t asked, because i know you won’t give me a straight answer. i mean, which is it? could i have more if i just asked for it, or am i not worth your time?” at least, that’s what nisa hears in blair’s words. “and why would you tell me all that if you don’t want me?” she assumes she doesn’t have to specify what she’s referring to. though, as she runs through it again, nisa shifts her focus away from their conversation to what came after. instead of the secrets shared and how blair had looked at her, she remembers the way blair kissed her, the words she left her with. her heart drops to her stomach. maybe blair’s a better actress than nisa’s given her credit for. “what, did you just want to fuck me again?” her brow furrows the second the words leave her lips. she shakes her head. “actually,” she lets go of blair’s wrist and takes a step back. “don't answer that.” her gaze drops, too scared to see any kind of confirmation cross blair’s expression. maybe this is the kind of trouble she should avoid. 

Chase blinks, caught off guard by the comment and it shows. Neither of them has dared to bring up how they first met till right now, and he had no way of knowing if Nisa remembered or not, till right now. “When have you ever seen me drunk?” he challenges, eyes taunting, just wanting to recover from reacting to her comment the way she probably wanted. If it annoys her, it’s also an added bonus. There’s a pause at her suggestion. It’s intriguing, surely, he’s not in the mood to clean up, but he also doesn’t want it to be the problem of whoever is opening tomorrow (unless it’s Blair, then he’ll gladly do it). He puts the magazine away, turning back to look at her. Here she is again proving to him she’s a menace of a coworker. “You’re a bad influence.” It comes out casually, because he is considering her suggestion. “Just how many times have you done that before?”

🎸

“huh.” marty exhales at the unexpected piece of information nisa has given them, eyebrow quirked up. “no offence but now that you say that, i’m not all that surprised.” they were trying really hard to chuck away any preconceived notions they had of nisa, either because they had no reason to exist or because nisa had proved them wrong. “what did you go to college for?” it’s a question that escapes them with genuine curiosity. marty takes a sip of their drink. they’re rarely curious about other people’s lives, let alone their dating lives, but this has her attention feel undivided. “just because he doesn’t seem like the dating type, it doesn’t mean he’s not capable of it. in his own way, i guess.” their own words surprise them, in a way. there’s always a possibility. things change, that much marty is strangely aware of but would never actually think about for more than a second, especially if the attention is not on someone else’s life. “i don’t know what he did to make you not be so sure anymore but if it makes it any better, i don’t think jamie would do something with you unless he wanted to.” at least, marty never really worried about that in her friendship with jamie ( then again, it’s dating she and nisa are talking about ). she lets out a chuckle, eyebrows raising as she wears a feigned expression of shock and offence. “what, you don’t think it makes us charming?” marty clutches imaginary pearls, all the while trying to hide their amusement. “breakin’ my heart, sunay. never thought you’d be able to do it.”

         nisa’s brow furrows. “okay, well, some offense taken.” maybe if marty waited until she knew what school nisa had needed nepotism to get into, she would be more forgiving, but it’s not like anyone in this town would be able to go to an ivy on their own merits. she’s heard them fumble their way through deciding what to do about jerry; nisa probably needed less nepotism than they would have. still, she attempts to let the implication that she’s dumb roll off her back. her tone isn’t even annoyed when she answers, maybe too surprised by marty even asking the question to hold on to any animosity. “english. and then i minored in music.”

     ❝ YOU SURE ? ‘CUZ IT KINDA sounds like you’re taking it as an insult anyway. ❞ arms fold over chest, head tilted to mirror her own. he wants so badly to disregard everything she’s saying and leave it at that, but even more frustrating than her condescension is the validity of her words. in truth, this isn’t the first time he’s had this conversation with someone. it was a different time then, with a different band and spoken in a different way, but the message was still the same : you’re too harsh. you expect too much. you need to be nicer. he’d thought it silly then, of course. believed it little more than excuses made by people too unwilling to put in the necessary work to grow. but considering all the growth he’s witnessed runaway yesterday accomplish, nisa’s thoughts aren’t as easily brushed aside. after a long moment, trip sighs and allows his arms to drop back to his sides. his gaze flicks away almost self - consciously, wandering around the room and looking at anything but her. ❝ alright, alright, ❞ he relents, desperate to get her to just stop talking. ❝ i don’t want you guys to get demoralized or whatever, so … i’ll try. ❞ with that, his eyes slowly shift back to her, a single brow rising to ask if her highness deems that acceptable.

         “no,” nisa corrects, “i don’t care about the criticism. this issue i have is that you never have anything good to say. even when it’s earned.” nisa’s eyes stay trained on trip as his own bounce almost uncertainly around the room. it’s unlike trip, who believes himself infallible and usually, doubles down when she pushes back. though trip might not tell her much, he’s still an open book; his face says everything he refuses to. today, nisa’s hit a nerve. she remembers the last time his expression betrayed him: when he was insisting he hates his former bandmates. while she immediately knew he was full of shit, she has no idea how the rest of the band actually feels, and she doesn’t have to think too hard to come up with a few things he could do to make them hate him. 

location: high volume break room

@volumeupdates​​ 

christian popped wordlessly into the break room, but not silently. his boots clomped against the scuffed tile, and the couch gave a low flomp as he threw himself on it, then rustled as christian wriggled around trying to get comfortable. “there’s something in here,” he finally said, bravely stuffing a hand in the cushions to see what it was.

@volumeupdates​. 𝐋𝐎𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍:  hospital,  a  few  days  after  the  hoedown  throwdown.

     IF  THERE’S  TWO  THINGS  MAXINE  SINCLAIR  has  learned  in  life  it’s  this:  life  is  such  a  fragile  thing,  and  people  are  meant  to  leave,  one  way  or  another.  being  here  revives  memories  max  has  done  her  best  to  tuck  away  and  though  they’re  all  telling  her  kem  will  be  fine  she  also  remembers  a  time  after  her  dad’s  death  when  they’d  told  her  she’d  be  fine.  she’s  not  so  convinced  she  ever  was  after  that.

     right  now,  max  is  staring  down  a  vending  machine,  knowing  full  well  she  has  no  more  cash  on  her  and  she’s  not  really  feeling  yet  another  kit  kat  bar  anyway.  in  fact,  the  mere  thought  of  it  makes  her  wanna  double  over,  but  both  trip  and  kem  have  been  adamant  about  her  trying  to  eat  something.  the  least  she  can  do  is  pretend.  

     sure  she  could  go  home,  trust  that  kem  is  in  good  hands,  there’s  not  much  she  can  do  here  anyway,  but  between  the  bench  in  the  hospital  lobby  and  the  immediate  proximity  to  kem  should  he  need  anything  max  feels  better  staying  —  this  despite  the  dried  blood  on  her  boots  and  her  greasy  hair.  

     max  decides  to  turn  on  her  heel,  headed  back  to  her  designated  bench  that  they’ve  told  her  to  leave  a  hundred  times  after  visitation  hours,  when  she  walks  straight  into  someone  without  so  much  as  glancing  at  them.  «  watch  it,  »  she  exclaims,  agitated,  out  of  character.

         nisa isn’t there for kem. it’s not that she doesn’t care what happens to him — of course she doesn’t want to see any of her coworkers stabbed — but they’ve never been close, and she isn’t going to hang around the hospital and worry over him like they were. no, she’s there for christian, who left his jacket at her apartment. she’d considered keeping it, she’s always coveted it anyway, but he called asking after it, and the walkman tucked in it’s pocket.

Maybe if he lets out a sigh that’s long enough he can evaporate or something. Her answer doesn’t surprise him or faze him in the slightest. He would’ve been surprised if she decided to be cooperative! Ever since he got hired, Nisa has proved to him that she’s a headache. It’s not like she tried to prove him wrong. It has him think back of certain past choices - no, mistakes - for only a few seconds, but they’re long enough for the male that he has to stop himself. He walks towards her and reaches to snatch the magazine from her. “You know who else is here for that? You. I’m not cleaning this entire place by myself, or else we’ll be staying here all night.” He doesn’t want that and he bets she feels the same way.

🎸

marty can’t help the full chuckle that escapes them, head shaking in amusement. “oh, definitely. top three material, at the least. the only way you wouldn’t win would be because of some nepotism goin’ on, mark my words.” if, months ago, anyone would have told marty they would have been at a cowboy party, talking to nisa and actually laughing genuinely at anything the other does, she wouldn’t have believed them. at most, she would ask what kind of weed they’d been smoking and ask for some of it. but now, experiencing something marty never thought she would be, there’s no regret in the interaction. there’s a beat between the moment marty hears nisa’s question and when they actually give her an answer. and what sort of answer can marty actually give her about jamie? it’s not like her and jamie talk about shit like that ( and whenever they do talk about more serious stuff, it’s within a bubble that is meant to be short-lived ). “i mean. i don’t really… know? we sorta dated but not really? it was high school and neither of us really knew shit about what we were doing.” marty speaks, words laced with amusement and a soft tone of recollection. “and he was with reyna for a bit, pretty sure they were dating so he is capable of doing it. but we… well, we don’t really talk about… these things, though. everything okay?”