murphy's law.

Alec was feeling particularly high when he decided to stop by the bar in the hotel. Needless to say, eating an edible given to him by a fellow server was probably not the best idea. Sure, he could handle it, but that didn’t make his experience any less bizarre. Feeling a little paranoid and off center, Alec decided there was nothing else to do but to have a Jack and coke or three. As he sat down and sipped his drink, doing his best to relax his mind, Alec felt someone sit beside him at the bar. Turning his attention to the person, he let out a sigh of relief. Thank God it wasn’t an FBI agent here to spy on him. “Hey,” he said with a smile. “Whatcha doing here? You here to keep me company?” He asked, wiggling his eyebrows playfully. 

alright, alright. malnati bar ?  not the best move. but she’s spent all fucking day coding her way through corporate firewalls so murph will gladly take any alcohol within short walking distance. clad in nothing but black joggers, a gold sports bra, and an oversized black denim jacket, the parched girl slinks her way to the bar, already a hefty chug of fireball into her night. a subtle chin-tip is all it takes :  mr. bar man’s got her usual whiskey on the counter before she can say please. which is lit, because she won’t.

and now becomes the stool selection –– she just plops down right where she is, knocking back her drink in one gulp. yep. place is packed. she claims this spot before any other sparkly blonde bitch spots it and thinks she’s getting an in. this bartender’s about to be hers for a while. a second drink’s slid in front of her before she even notices the familiar voice from over her shoulder. when she does, she cocks her head to the side and blinks. hard. 

just her fuckin’ luck he’d be here.

blue eyes followed a bobbing stick placed between two plump lips. a girl not lighting the cigarette but certainly having the enjoyment of having it around her mouth confused ruby but she figured there was a reason. perhaps it was the look, it was cool and dangerous. two things that ruby greeves had yet to be able to accomplish in her life of sunshine and plaid skirts that had her stuck in her childish school girl ways. innocent and pure. at least that is what she wanted to be since it was ripped from her without consent. a smile wide and true broke the train of thought. 

“i break a lot of things. you would think with all the time in the kitchen i’d have that under control but i just drop everything. maybe my hands are evil…you know? like with a mind of their own. they like to cause trouble and make me drop everything.” ruby had then taken the biggest leap of faith she could have. 

she sat on the far cushion of this dark and mysterious girl’s seat and looked at her with wild optimism. “im ruby greeves.” she said in a sing-song tone before flying a hand out to make the official introduction. ruby really needed to learn personal space but that might take some time for this one.

the cig stops bobbing when the far cushion gives under new weight. murphy stills and blinks at her newfound couch bud, dark lashes framing narrowed eyes. 

“ evil hands, ”   she repeats back, as if she’s actually listened.  “ evil ass, too, huh. ”  the comfortable sphere around her has shattered –– and though she’s still at ease, still lounging like a cat in its favorite sunspot, it’s... unnerving. to share.

when one of those ‘ evil hands ’  glides further forward, murphy stares at it like she’s just been offered a solo cup of puke  ( this time wouldn’t be the first  ) . heavy braids slide off her shoulder as murphy cocks her head, arches an eyebrow.

“ well. ”  out comes the lighter. one trusty flick and she’s sending sweet, sweet death down her lungs. murph makes a point of exhaling through her nose and blowing it this chick’s way.

   “oh no i would feel like everyone was staring if I hadn’t.” dawn didn’t like being the center or attention. it made her feel tense and uncomfortable. she was an introvert who preferred only talking to people she knew. this conversation was starting to make her feel nervous. “wh—what? no it’s not coke— I would never— it’s just powdered sugar.”

“i never imagined it could. how would the world survive if the chicago she-devil wasn’t out and about insulting its citizens and eating their hearts out?” he rose a brow and smirked. 

“saw you devouring mr. sprinkles over here and figured the beast still needed something to eat.” 

hands reached into the paper sack and pulled out the extra donut that he purchased for the girl who had caught the attention of a few disgusted customers. he didn’t just buy the extra pastry to be nice to the girl, but he loved the looks on the peoples faces when they had to sit through the feeding frenzy as his little beast tore apart the flesh of another victim and made a spectacular display at doing so. 

“should i make you say please or do i risk losing a body part if i do?” he smirked before holding out the second treat. “go to town, you devil. and make it a show, those two kids need some night mare fuel for tonight.” he said pointing at two boys who seemed confused by the adult splattering the innards of a poor donut everywhere. 

preston knows his shit. wise dude. he lives to see another day. “ please shut the fuck up before i make that shit a reality. ”  but it’s paired with a half-smile, tattooed fingers snatching the iced pastry from her friend’s grip. she’s tearing into it with light touch, a shift from her previous performance. she rolls some dough between forefinger and thumb, staining her fingers with icing. 

“ so. now you got me thinking, bitch –– ”  murphy licks her fingers clean before ripping another piece from her treat, pausing to squint at her friend. she introduces her thought with a twist of her lips, a quirk of her brow. leans back and spins the donut around her index finger like it’s a record. shop lights make it shine.

“ hangman, but backwards. ”  a smirk. “ you’re losing your appendages, homie. one by one. ”  a bite. murphy speaks as she chews, a stray sprinkle clinging to the corner of her lips.  

✰ –– @nicoletterogers​ !

a head of braids leaned against the sidewalk. dirtied docs propped up against one of those automatic trash barrels that pepper chicago’s street corners. signature green beats, one ear on, one ear off, distressed band tee worn like a dress, cigarette spiraling smoke up to overcast skies... she’s the picture of street style –– emphasis on the street. 

murphy takes a drag and watches familiar steps close in, still upside down. she likes it –– like if she raises a hand, squints, and lines her fingers up just right, she can flick the incoming minion of the man.

✦ 𝕄𝕌ℝℙℍ𝕐 !

          rowan   was   never   good   at   guessing   games .   literally––   terrible .   ‘   sasha ?   you   kind   of   look   like   a   sasha   ––––or   melony ?  ’   he   tilts   his   head   to   the   side   slightly ,   as   if   it   were   really   going   to   give   him   a   better   reading   of   her . ‘  can   i   get   a   hint   at   least ?  ’   he   asks ,   smirking .   he   really   wanted   to   win   whatever   that   something   was .

✦ 𝕄𝕌ℝℙℍ𝕐 !

          this   woman   was   mesmerizing .   he   couldn’t   take   his   eyes   off   her .   he   watches   as   she   leans   in   close   and   he   can   smell   her   perfume–– she   smells   like   fresh   roses   and   sunshine   on   a   cool   autumn   day .   ‘  i   didn’t   catch   your   name ?  ’   he   says   as   he   watches   her   settle   back   down   onto   her   stool   and   start   eating   the   peanuts .   how   was   it   possible   for   her   to   eat   them   so   seductively––   yet   not   intentionally .   ‘  yeah––   that   would   have   been   rude . ’   he   says   as   he   sips   the   remainder   of   his   rum . 

         this game ain’t complicated, man –– people. it’s all about choosing pathways, favoring outcomes... as rowan speaks, murphy licks peanut salt off one finger, quirking an eyebrow as she dips it back into her other palm to retrieve another one. “ never threw it. ”  a lady might choose now to reveal her name, spark up small talk. murphy just flicks a peanut past parted lips and stares. several crunches later, she makes her move –– “ take a stab at it, dude. ”  she finishes off her drink and taps the glass twice on the counter. ah, yep. her favorite barkeep knows what that means. murphy tosses a light finger gun his way, the closest she’ll get to a thank you. then she pivots right back to rowan, propping an elbow on the counter. she turns her last peanut in the light, like there’s something to see there. 

         crunch.

somehow forgotten the blonde had moved on from the shattered pieces to the other who replied. this one was nothing like ruby and that sparked curiosity in the blonde like no other.

the display of legs spread across a sofa she could hear her own mother’s voice in her head. ‘ruby, don’t you think it’s a bit unnecessary to have your shoes on the sofa like that?’ which ruby would nod and sit up with shoes off the sofa. she followed the rules. but not this girl and that, intrigued the blonde.  face scrunching a bit she shook her head. “nope. that seat doesn’t look good their either. im pretty strong you know, i beat a boy in an arm wrestle in the third grade once and he cried. i can move you in this sofa.” 

despite the very intimidating tone of the lounger’s voice, ruby had a hard time being fearful of it, not when there happened to be scarier ones in her head at times.

“why does the seat have to be there anyway, it would look better over there, see? you get to be out of sight but the angle i can put it on will give you better view of when the lobby man is watching. i like the mints here too.” and ruby had taken notice to the excessive amounts the other had taken just in the time they have been around. of course ruby only took one and only one as she was asked. 

oh, jesus fuck. is strangling legal ?  how about sewing mouths shut ?  murph doesn’t know the first thing about sewing but she’d gladly take up the craft to get this bitch to fucking. stop. gabbing.

“ oh, wow. a singular arm wrestle. you... beast. ”  sarcasm clings and drips like molasses; her words are slow, dark, low. murphy squints up at the blonde and situates the mint between her molars. crunch.

staring at this girl’s like staring into the fucking sun. god. get salt bae in here to sprinkle some real-world shit on this homie. rearranging the malnati like she owns the place. concerning herself with feng shui like it’s her business. murphy’s hungry and she was thinking about breaking for a hot dog from that stand down the block. but now ?  ha. now she’s not moving. just to be a bitch about it.

murphy leans back even more, gets real comfortable. she’ll be here a while. quick fingers retrieve the cigarette she’s tucked behind her ear and bring it to her lips, unlit. she’s no idiot. but it still feels good, the phantom taste of nicotine as she makes the tobacco stick waggle up and down. like she’s bored, and that’s the only thing she can do to keep herself entertained.

lia often didn’t know how to respond to murphy–she didn’t know many people like her, let alone how to respond. she was larger than life in every single way and lia….was so not. in a room, she’d do her best to take up as little space as possible. life was not her show, it was meant for others to take the spotlight. unless she was on stage–but that wasn’t her world anymore. and frankly it never had been. murphy took up space like she owned it. it was hers for the taking and she didn’t look back. and sure, it came off as brash and hard–and lia had her fair share of frustrations with the woman. but it was also…like beautiful? not the way she had grown up with the word. but more like..the kind of feeling you had when you went somewhere magestic….and you only had one kind of word to describe it. beautiful. 

but the beauty didn’t come without its thorns. “i’m overrated? how so?” she asked, as calmly as possible–one of those few things she actually appreciated learning from her mother. never let them see you sweat magnolia. they can sense fear. she, of course, was talking about the judges. but then again–wasn’t everyone a judge in the real world? 

he own eyebrows raised and she looked at the drink slid to her. did she really want to try it, if it was that bad? no. was she going to anyway, because she was curious and murphy had asked her to? yes, because she was a people pleaser too–don’t forget that part. a small sip and her nose wrinkled. 

“it taste…dirty to me. like, uhm, freshly ground top soil.” she moved the cup away as fast as she could, wishing she hadn’t fallen prey to that drink. “i guess someone’s into that sorta thing if it sells.”

living with lia’s a treat. legit. apartment’s always clean. smells good. and murphy’s never had access to so much fresh-cooked food in her life. while the blonde speaks, an oversized denim jacket shrugs off one bare shoulder. murph closes her mouth so she can wipe icing off her teeth with her tongue. at lia’s question, she just shrugs like she doesn’t know a damned thing about it.

the answers ?  a billion and one. murphy reads this girl like any basic line of binary. all zeroes and ones, constantly rearranged to appease her viewer. any other bitch would’ve flipped on murph by now –– what with her odd hours, shoes-on-the-sofa kind of style. but this girl’s a walking pastry –– nah.

cupcake. strawberry. with sprinkles. the kind that looks so sweet, you spend more time admiring than tasting it.

murphy tosses long braids over her shoulder and leans back in her seat, propping a boot up on her side of the table. ‘cause she’s considerate.

“ yep, ”  she agrees with lia’s survey of literal dirt, popping the ‘ p ’  before her fingers straddle the straw and she takes another. sip. anyway. “ they went chernobyl on this shit. no burn. just straight to radioactive waste. ”

this shouldn’t work. them. chillin’ out here, like this. but it does, and murphy can’t be bothered to wonder what to do with that.

ruby was getting antsy waiting around in the lobby for the woman to come back and speak to her about the leak in her room. how long has it even been? the young blonde had only been sitting there at most for five minutes but for her that felt more like an eternity and before she knew it she needed something to do or she’d go stir crazy; and tapping her leg any longer was just not helping. looking around the room the girl started to frown. “ohhh this is all wrong.” she whispered to herself and sprang up from the slighting uncomfortable chair and backed up slightly to get a better angle. 

the girl decided she would rearrange the whole lobby set up while she waited. ruby thought the set up just didn’t have a good flow and so she began to push furniture all around and maybe getting too ambitious she pushed a side table with an ugly, but expensive looking statue on display and using too much force the whole thing toppled forward and came crashing down; sending glass in every direction as it fell to the floor and broke. “opps.” she let out cringing and turning to a figure with an innocent look. “you don’t think…they will notice do you? maybe i can replace it with one of my collectors ballerina statues my grandmother sent me from moscow?” 

murphy doesn’t dig the lobby but she digs the mints. and the staff’s onto her –– gone are the days when she could stuff her pockets with the things without being noticed. ms. berman, please refrain from removing more than one mint from the bowl at a time.

now, to spite them, she’ll spend hours down here on her laptop, beats on, just snatching mints and sucking one at a time with frank ocean as her guide. all day. same amount of mints. fuckin’ loophole.

life’s decent. she’s adding some dumb jokes into a string of firewall bypass code to spice up the task, chin bopping to ‘ forrest gump ’ .  new mint, new beat. her tongue just begins to cool when a face bursts into view. “ fuck –– ”  lightning reflexes clack her laptop shut. from her spot stretched out on the couch, murphy stares.

“ chill, marie kondo. ”  only now does she tilt one side of her headphones down. not that she’s particularly thrilled to chat. she narrows her eyes, pushing the mint around her mouth with her tongue.

“ and just for the record, ”  murphy sets her laptop aside and kicks back to fill the space, just in case little miss sunray gets any ideas. she stretches one leg across the couch and props the other up high, on the backrest. dirty af1s get kiss satin upholstery. mr. mint police looks like he might have a nervous conniption.