ᴛᴀʟᴋɪɴ' ɴᴏɴꜱᴇɴꜱᴇ

fingers brush, and she leans in, closer. that slow-motion collapse of a person in real time, eyes fluttering shut for a moment as she exhaled, finally. "i know." it HOLDS, in a place in her chest that almost feels nauseated with the potential. of what ifs, of all the ways that she knew she was fucking destined to fuck up. that was rue, like, all the time, so why would this be any different? it's not fair for her to like, judge all that before they really did anything but like...

she also was so terrified of losing lotte, it made her fucking SICK.

"you know..." she lights the weed sitting in its glass enclosure, inhaling deep to pull that hit, her head swimming, her mouth chewing about the words themselves. "if... if this week has like, made me aware of ANYTHING, it's that... like... you never really know what's fucking coming. and i dunno. i just... i don't... want you ever wondering like, how important you are. that..." that fear, instinctive. "y... you know?"

Feelings. Those bitches seemed to creep in when she least expected it. Lotte preferred to ignore them until absolutely necessary. If she didn’t allow them space in her head, then they wouldn’t be able to sink into her thoughts. The way her heart jumped whenever she’d see Rue coming up the drive or the palpable tension when they were this close were things that crept up on her. They were just friends — that was how it always started. That made it easier for the emotions to slip through her iron gates, like a frog adjusting to boiling water without ever noticing they’re facing the end.

Rue never felt like jumping off a cliff, but there were dangers with any dealings of the heart. Beneath the fog, there could be jagged rocks ready to run through her or the frigid waters of the unknown. While both were frightening in their own right, one option certainly concerned Lotte more than the other.

The words took a beat to sink in, though her cheeks already felt warm to the touch. Lotte searched the other’s gaze to ground her in the present. “There’s a lot of bullshit in the world,” the blonde started, her tone shifting to where their conversation might go. “But never with you.” It was true. Rue didn’t pretend or sugarcoat — she needed that. “I probably would’ve done the whole tortured artist crash out thing if it weren’t for you.”

“Well, in that case, we’re safe as can be.” Her lips pursed, eyes closed, and a nod of feigned belief took the reins. She wasn’t really all that worried about being mugged, but with an influx of car theft in the area, one could never be too careful. The other stylists warned her; being the youngest, they seemed maternal, and while she appreciated their guidance, Avery was fine on her own. That’s how it’d always been. She didn’t mind, not anymore, though her younger self might’ve had more to say on the matter.

The neon hue danced across his features, turning shadows to indigo and glances to kaleidoscopes. “Oh, yeah,” Avery replied while leaning over the bar to attract the attention of the bartender. “An IPA for me, and whatever he wants.” They gave her the neighbor discount; it wasn’t much, but she appreciated it nonetheless. They would sneak her a drink or two, and she’d cut their hair after closing — a fair trade. “It’s too easy not to, especially after one of those days where you think your head is gonna explode.” Maybe that made her sound like an alcoholic, to which she immediately tried to backtrack. “Not like I’m here every day or anything,” the blonde rambled, thankful when the drinks arrived so she could fill her mouth with alcohol, not her absurdities. “Are you from around here? I don’t think I’ve seen you around before,” Avery said, shifting the conversation away from herself and onto the boy, making her trip over her thoughts.

She didn’t even bother holding back the laughter that bubbled up. The idiocy of people never ceased to amaze and amuse her. Maxine could only imagine what Shiloh saw on a daily basis, catching only glimpses through stories shared across the bar. “People will literally shove anything up there, huh?” While it wouldn’t be something she suggested, it made for great amusement. Of course, Maxine was disconnected enough to enjoy the hilarity without having to deal with the insanity. “I’ve gotta know…” The brunette leaned further into the counter as if preparing for a secret to be shared beneath their breath. “What kind of weird shit was up there?”

MICHELLE RANDOLPH

Luca watched her work as if it were an art form. Even the way she moved from her hips to her head was mesmerizing. Still, he knew her web was woven far more complicated than he wished to wrangle. That didn’t keep him from twisting a finger in her entanglement every now and then. “Ah, Loma,” he started with a heavy inhale, his eyes going to the ceiling as if searching the stars for the words. “Where do I begin? Potrei stare a guardarti tutto il giorno.” Whenever the English word slipped his mind, he’d continue on in his native tongue, knowing it sounded better anyway. The drinks arrived before Luca got in another swing, holding up his glass instead. “A toast, to the most beautiful girl in the room.”

Sedona was torn between wanting to sink down into their chair until they disappeared entirely and sitting straighter to appear more put together than they were. It wasn’t like the breakup had devoured them or at least not anymore. “Look what the cat dragged in,” the brunette teased, finding it far too easy to fumble. He was their past, not the future, as Sedona continued to remind themselves. It’d been easier not to miss him without seeing his face. “You know, never say no to that.” As much as they might’ve wanted to. “My usual.” Sedona scolded themselves for hoping he remembered the nuances of a different time. It was just a whiskey on the rocks; it didn’t matter — it shouldn’t matter.

They were charming to say the least. Maybe it hadn’t been all bad bumping into them. A smile had found Shay’s lips easily and stuck around while they exchanged small talk; that must’ve meant something. “Well, that sounds fair to me,” the brunette agreed with a scrunch of her button nose. It could’ve ended right there; they didn’t owe Shay any further conversation, but the offer that caught her off guard wasn’t unwelcome. “You’ve got a deal.” Shay gave a firm nod and took the first steps to claim the last available table, promptly making herself comfortable in the chair that sat flush against the wall. “I guess I should introduce myself, since I know you’re not going to sue me.” A joke, but law school had taught her that something so ridiculous wasn’t unheard of. “I’m Shay.”