#hotheadcd

     between responsibilities and the murder of a local teen, the end of the old and beginning of new year was spent in a funk. and funks were not appreciated by the youngest kinney. she was productive : always moving, hardly taking a well-deserved break. if she couldn’t achieve productivity the funk was bound to DEEPEN, and then she’d never find her way out. lucky her, she’s not without an older brother. and it turns out, the trick to getting her old self back was a four hour trip to sin city. she sits cross-legged in the passenger seat, shoes kicked off on the floor, and the radio BLASTING destiny’s child’s best. in other words, their entire discography. “ ladies leave your man at home . . . the club is full of ballers and their pockets full grown, ” the brunette pokes at her brother’s shoulder, urging him to join her sing-along. “ and all you fellas leave your girl with her friends . . . ‘cause -- ” she goes silent, handing over a metaphorical mic. / @hotheadcd​

     oliver didn’t do well with sad. anger, she could handle. horny, too. happiness was a given, and frustration was relatable. but sad . . . who the hell was sad out in the open. it was an emotion displayed in the privacy of your own bedroom, after chugging an entire bottle of chardonnay and streaming grey’s anatomy. she didn’t handle her own sadness very well, so somebody else’s ? yeah, she was not cut out for it. “ dude . . . i’m sure it’s not as bad as ya think. ” hand hovers above his shoulder, oliver hesitant on the consoling pat she’s about to offer. this was a disaster. she spins around in the bar stool, putting her vodka soda aside, all attention redirected to this complete stranger on a binge. “ but if you’re looking for my advice, ” no one ever was. “ it goes a little somethin’ along the lines of fuck her brains out. ” / @hotheadcd