#childactress

“can you catch somebody's crazy?”   mara asks and starling feels herself startle,   as if caught.

“well…”   she hears herself trail,   running her tongue along the back of her teeth. theory dictated no; there was nothing communicative about insanity.   but practice… —CHRIST.   pull yourself together starling!   

‘ me? ’ fuck: the request arrives late like it’s been circling rue just long enough to go stale. she prefers a vape recently because you can charge just about anywhere these days, but a lighter can never go askew in someone’s pocket. not someone who likes hanging around places long enough to start looking like part of the setup. ‘ yeah, no, sure, ’ she answers as her goes past the vape, just deeper past a dime and a torn up iphone charging cable into her pocket, and procures this garish lighter.

‘ got this one in miami. ’ rue clicks and winks, and bares the thing out, tiny plastic light up boobies and a tiny plastic orange thong right where her pinky lands to match the flame out the top.

“yoooooooooooo. what's with all the unchecked aggression?”

' i am smiling. ' this is technically true, if you’re generous. if you’re grading on effort. if you're grading on whatever else, like, what her face looks like, it's a zero with a big red biro circle around her face. gabe lifts her eyebrows like she's got a facelift, like she's in on a joke. ' fixed. everyone relax. crisis averted. '

SHE'S THE...WHAT?

In her own skin, in her own clothes, Samira doesn't guard her expression as carefully. It's a judgment-free bewilderment, but—come on. She can't possibly read Mara's mind right now, and this whole start to a social interaction is overwhelming for someone as reclusive as Samira.

Samira has this flickering consideration of: is any of this happening? It startles her so much that she sobers up—as much as she can force herself to sober up—instantly.

"I work at PTMC, yes." She smiles thinly.

@childactress one hand around a bottle of liquor, the other at her neck: the silver B on its chain's been thumping against her skin for hours, catching every bright light it could as mara moved through the night. she danced her body well into exhaustion, she pushed through the crowd again and again, chasing the thrill of the party in all its frenzy. she caught her breath in the hallway with ben and danny, leant against the wall lost in dizzy laughter; eventually, she excused herself (she loves ben to death, and likes danny okay, but there's only so much overlapped chatter between them she can stand when she's this drunk). now, her eyes strain into someone's liquor cabinet. she's trying to be helpful, trying to remember what ben'd been drinking. something with rum, she thinks, or whiskey? she lifts her head hoping to catch his eyes in the crowd, no luck. she doesn't know where he is, then suddenly she doesn't know where he's come from. he's at her side and on her lips; it happens fast in a red-hot whirlwind, and when mara pulls away she sees that she's grabbed onto his shirt collar to keep him close. "i'd fuckin' kill for you, you know that?"

this is the best night ever, ben can't remember the last time the company at a party was this good. who knows what time it is? it's just talking talking talking, dancing, staring, looking for danny, looking for mara, no where was mara? fuck, he missed her.

maraben moodboard from their 3300+ pins board