#angeloconnor

trix and river’s new sober life has pushed jude’s un-sober one into hiding. he tells himself it’s out of respect to keep it away from them but he knows he’s telling himself lies. powdery or pill-formed vices become much stronger as secrets. the hold they have on him can grip tighter when nobody knows how often they are his friends. angel knows this, too and it explains why jude and her have spent more time together lately. their friendship has spanned over the previous five years of jude’s life in lockwood but now, with pick me ups and floating highs, it feels stronger than before. ‘we gotta write this down.’ jude says, his mind telling him he’s excited but his body moving slowly in contrast. their idea of a stick and poke tattoo studio adjacent to destination ink seems perfect, along with trading weed as payment for tiny designs. ‘there’s pens...in the top drawer.’ he waves a hand, forgetting his small stash of pills hiding within there too. ‘cause stoners will have the best design ideas too like we’d never get bored of tattooing or smoking.’

motherhood. a strong word with so many meanings, so many appearances. from a young age, stevie knew that she was never going to take the traditional route. her younger years were filled with rebellion and her latter years the realisation that men were not for her. along came a troublesome angel o’connor, not long after the phoenix opened it’s doors and stevie caught the wayward teen trying to sneak in. since then, motherhood became a shoe she didn’t mind wearing. seeing the younger girl through the crowd, stevie waves softly and promptly walks the floor to greet angel. it comes in the form of a soft tussle of her curls, not overly affectionate but warm enough to exhibit her care. “we got a whole table of feisty women and a demi and a few bottles of champagne, i think you’d fit right in.” she laughs, slinging a lazy arm over angel’s shoulder. “you doing good, trouble?”