CHIMERICAL.

with the command, birdie is a woman on a mission, snaking her way through the tiny crowd of people in VIP to the bar, where she had a rather animated conversation with the bartender. she comes back with a real towel, and two drinks in hand. she hands the towel to arden. " i come bearing gifts! and apologies. um, just... our manager is here somewhere, and i will pay for all any any replacements. just tell them where it's from. do you like long island iced teas? " now she holds up the glass. " i've heard they're called that because they get you L-I-T, but that sounds a little frat boy cringe. so. "

arden remains in their place, taking deep breaths and walking themselves back from the ledge of overstimulation. it's not the best sensation, but they really are trying not to let it ruin their evening. they take the towel from birdie's hands, using it to dab at some of the liquid. it's not very helpful, but it's the thought that counts. right? "great, thanks," arden says, trying their hardest not to sound curt and failing pretty spectacularly. "i'll be in touch." eventually, they give up with the towel, throwing it over one shoulder and looking at the glass that birdie is holding out to them. "damn, you trying to get me so drunk i don't remember this tomorrow?" they joke, before taking the glass and taking a large sip of it. "ahhhhh, tastes like a frat party. is this usually your, uh, drink of choice?"

ruby rolled their eyes before turning around to face arden. again with the dramatics! they really just could not understand what the huge deal was. wouldn't her friends want her to succeed? damn! "hey, if it works, it works! but i'm probably not leaving just yet, i wanna see how this all works out.," they responded earnestly - really just hoping the truth will get through arden's thick skull.

"works is a word for it, jury's still out on if it's 'worked' for you yet," they respond, their tone pointed and loaded with the weight of what they're not saying. they want to ask about gemma, about haeri, about how it feels to perform with some of the people they've known for what feels like forever. they don't say any of that, instead replying with: "because things with us weren't working out for you? should warn your bandmates that you run away when things get hairy, don't want them getting too comfortable."

lucky can see the gears churning in arden's head, or at least she imagines she can. they're both all-too-aware of the eyes that follow. haeri pastes on a convincing smile and responds through gritted teeth. "because, babes, i'm just as excited to show everyone there's no bad blood between clover and mulholland drive as yemi is." did arden not have to sit through a powerpoint presentation? she's going to kill yemi. or arden. or both of them.

their teeth grind against each other in an effort to avoid literally biting their tongue (they're already doing it metaphorically). "have you been telling everyone we have bad blood? i don't think we have bad blood." of course they have bad blood, of course things are weird between them, but arden blinks a few times innocently, curious as to what lucky will say in return, if she'll say the quiet part out loud.

open starter ! the only thing better than being on stage at glastonbury, birdie had decided, was being in the crowd at glastonbury. she's at least two beers and she's not sure how many open-bar cocktails from VIP, with another one balanced in her hand as she sings and dances her heart out to the band on stage. a real band, is what birdie would ordinarily think, lamenting moodily that they were making the music they want and playing the instruments they've been playing their whole lives. luckily, drinks and nerves and the music coursing through her was enough to stave off the thrum of negativity that always beat against her skull. it also strips her of enough self awareness she doesn't realize she's spilled her drink all down the front of the person next to her until it's too late. " oh my god, " she moans, already imagining how this will surely earn her their ire forever. " i totally did not mean to give you a baptism by bahama mama. i'm so sorry. " @supernovainfo

arden can't help but laugh at the sensation of the drink spilling down their clothing, the sound coming out somewhere between a giggle and a scoff. if this had happened a decade ago, they would have caused a scene, but instead, they're able to swallow their annoyance and slap a feigned smile on their face. "right, no harm done, as long you didn't, like, actually baptize me." they put the glass in their hand down on the ground. "here, you can make it up to me by finding me a paper towel and footing the dry cleaning bill."

@supernovainfo || haeri resisted the urge to roll her eyes at the incessant buzzing of her phone in her purse. the only reason it wasn't in her hands for once was so she could avoid her managers reminders about all the photos she needed to get for her insta dump, but she would not let up. with a sigh, haeri ditched her vip balcony view of whatever afternoon set was on stage and sidled up to her nearest tour mate. "we have to take a picture," she said without greeting or fanfare.

arden's absent-mindedly scrolling twitter when haeri lucky approaches them, and the expression that settles onto their face immediately is one of armor. they want to grimace, to laugh in the woman's face about this being how she chooses to break the ice, but there are people around them and roles to play, and arden's acutely aware of the amount of eyes that are on them all. they clear their throat. "do we now? and why's that?" they ask, figuring playing hard to get is more polite than flat out refusing.

@supernovainfo // with a bag of ridiculously expensive popcorn, ruby looked out into the crowd from the vip stand. they turned to the person next to them with a glint of mischief in their eyes. "what are the chances i could get one of the bands to let me stage dive during their set?"

arden's nostrils flare as they overhear ruby's comment behind them, the annoyance within them already starting to build. "why?" they ask, mostly under their breath, but definitely loud enough for the other to hear. "you hoping they'll let you join them? makes sense that you're already looking to leave your new band behind too. third time's the charm, right?"

kai's ready to tell them off, bring out some of that moody asshole energy they're known for, but then she notices who it is. arden lin-aarons. lead singer of mulholland drive. they hadn't really crossed paths in a meaningful way, much less spoken before, so kai's shocked when arden makes a quip about murdering management. she feels arden drop her arm, not even having noticed they'd grabbed it in the first place. damn. they really needed a drink. their eyes harden at the clear amusement on arden's face. ❛ it's nothing that concerns you, ❜ she bites, shoving her phone into her back pocket before crossing her arms. ❛ guess you should find your entertainment somewhere else. shouldn't be too hard considering. ❜

arden doesn’t flinch at the tone, nor at the bite behind it, not even at the way kai folds into herself like a drawn blade. if anything, something in their expression settles, their amusement softening at the edges into something quieter, more deliberate. they’ve seen this before, not with kai, but they know the posture of it, the armor. “right,” arden says easily, like they’ve just been told the weather might turn. “my mistake. clearly a very private, completely uninteresting crisis.” their hands lift in a small, semi-conceding gesture: palms open, no threat, no push. the noise from the festival swells behind them, a cheer cresting and breaking somewhere beyond the barricades. it fills the space kai’s defensiveness leaves behind, but arden doesn’t rush to cover it. instead, they tilt their head slightly, studying her. “relax,” they add, voice even and unbothered. “if i really wanted entertainment, i wouldn’t be back here. there's much lower odds of getting verbally stabbed by strangers near the bar.” arden shifts their weight, shoulder brushing lightly against the fencing behind them. “i was aiming for five minutes of quiet,” they continue, glancing past kai toward the path they'd come from. “just-. next time you wanna bite someone’s head off, you should probably pick someone who actually deserves it, yeah?”

— Danielle LaPorte

JESSIE MEI LI by JACK POWLEY