#lonelyfeel

elizabeth is thankful for friday evenings and the lack of school saturday mornings, because she doesn’t have to explain away the bags under her eyes for her lack of sleep or why, exactly, she was still awake at four in the morning. freshly showered, still buzzing from her evening activity (playing favor to many a gentlemen who sought fit to have their way with her at the club), she figures it’s too late to be paying a visit to a friend of hers, but knuckles are tapping against the door before she can rightly tell herself otherwise. red hair falling in full ringlets down her back, she tucks her arms against her chest, the over-sized sweater nearly dwarfing her lithe frame, the navy blue fabric a stark contrast to the paleness of her skin. surprise colors her features when the door swings open, pink lips parting to state her reasoning before they have a chance to turn her away. “i’m sorry... i know it’s late... early? i missed you and wasn’t... really looking forward to sleeping alone.” her english accent is thicker in the harsh crisp air of the early morning, the deep blue of her gaze dancing with wonder and.. hope she won’t be turned away.

     rosalie was no expert in tenderly approaching this thing with jenny’s mother, but she was finding it harder and harder to hide her distaste for the woman underneath layers of understanding and care for her girlfriend. she adored jenny, as weird and wacky as she was. she adored her maybe just because she was the way she was, totally unlike anyone she had ever been with. she was special and hers and their relationship certainly wasn’t easy, but they were figuring it out. she knew that when her mother was around things got weirder than usual and that they got hard, but she was at her wits end with the blonde’s behaviour. as they entered her bedroom she found herself placing her hands on her hips, standing up a little straighter as she demanded answers. “alright, i’m done with this, whatever this is. i’m your girlfriend, you know. it might actually help me to understand if you speak to me.” she took a step closer, her voice growing softer. “did something happen with your mom?”

she’s quick to get out of bed in the morning, more than eager to get back to her own apartment to wash the previous night off of her body. there’s a pang of guilt in the pit of her stomach, but there’s not one inch of her that wants to admit that aloud -- far too egocentric for her own good. articles of closing are being put back on one piece at a time, but soon she’s stuck with the zipper on her dress. a heavy hand plonks down upon the sleeping body next to her, clearing her throat. “ help me do this up, will you ? ” eyes refuse to look down as she turns around, back towards them. memories of their party the night before flash across her mind, and as much as she’d like to forget and move on ( and not become a home-wrecker, perhaps ), quinn’s too full of herself for that. focused on the content she can get out of this experience, it’ll make a good song, at least. “ also .. do you think i’ll be rewarded citizen of the year reward when i tell your fiancée about last night ? or is that something you’d rather let them know yourself ? ” face is straight, not wanting to be called out on her bluff; but there’s an inch of a smile as she awaits their reaction. 

who would believe that sweet little nancy had the sinful thoughts that she did? no one could fathom that nancy wentworth - the self proclaimed golden girl who had a smile that’d make anyone stop and stare - was as devilish as the thoughts that ran through her very mind. she’s calculating and conniving, determined to take whatever she wanted, no matter the cost. she’s always been driven - both a gift and her very downfall. and her eyes are firmly set on the prize lying in the wolfe household. she’s got an addiction especially for things (and even people) that she knows she can’t have. and ava, the mother of her so-called friend, is even a challenge for her. but nancy’s too stubborn to give up when she’s so close. thanks to lauren, she’s all too comfortable with the house. she knows how things go, the schedule. and that’s why she’s purposely shown up here, all bambi eyes and faux innocence. “is lauren home?” she asks upon stepping into the kitchen, the blonde just behind her, “i forgot that i was supposed to be dropping something off for her. completely slipped my mind the last time i was here.” she doesn’t give the slightest fuck where lauren actually is - she just knows that she isn’t here and she’s glad for it.

➼      eve huffed,  fiddling  with  her  pen,  flicking  it  between  her  index  and  middle  fingers. she  was  sat  backstage  behind the  theatre  as  some  of  the  performing arts  students  practised for  the  upcoming musical.  she  could  tell  just  by  listening in  on  them  that  they’d all  be  fighting for  roles  in  the  real  world  —  with  real  chances  of  succeeding,  too.  when  lauren passed  her,  she  shot  up,  back  straight and  eyes  wide  —  she  was  someone she  hadn’t  spoken to  about  her  paper  yet.  ❝  hey  cutie  ！  would  you  mind  giving  me  some  insight on  something  ？  i  won’t  be  a  minute. i’m  just  doing  a  paper  on  the  arts  and  funding  —  and  you  look  like  your  opinion matters,  ❞  eve  smiled  sweetly  at  the  blonde,  ever  the  flatterer.      

          Another one, another published book, the words Brookes Publishing printed on it. The first editions always went to her, always first, always the day before copies upon copies would be unleashed into the literary world. It had been years, a decade since the very first edition of her very first book of her very first client was in her hands, yet it made this moment no less special than way back when. A soft smile stretched across her lips, flipping through the pages, her latest client’s words the sharpest contrast against the crisp white pages. She chuckled, eyes looking toward the young woman that she requested to bring the book to her. “You probably think this foolish, even a bit sentimental on my part, aye?” She gave a shrug of her shoulders, “Perhaps it is. I know it’s your first day and — oh,” she said as she closed the book, “Those could be fun. Runnin’ ‘round like a chicken with its head cut off —” She laughed at that, “God, somethin’ my Ma would say, but still stands... Though you’ve been good so far, but, I know on the first days, the first weeks, even, you could get lost on, mmm, what this is all for, perhaps?” Holding the book still, hugging it to her stomach as she leaned against the front of her desk. “You might think just ‘cause you go ‘round, makin’ coffee, settlin’ my appointments and the like, you probably don’t do much for this company. But you’d be wrong. I hired you, you’re a part of this company now, helping me and in doin’ that, my accomplishments are as much yours.” Walking toward Rose, she placed the book in her hands, “How you feel ‘bout that? Think you can handle it? I’m going to need you to handle that.”

“Listen I think I like this even less than you do, but it’s a job. I refuse to not do things accurately, so if you could just put your big kid pants on and grow the fuck up, I would appreciate it.” Logan delivered her words with her head cocked to the side, an all too sweet smile on her lips before it quickly disappeared. It was one thing that she was having to work with her ex, but it was a completely different scenario with how she was having to act okay with it. To the world, they had a break-up. The standard, run of the mill break-up that happens with people. To them? It was ugly. It was a break-up filled with yelling and fights and one that left Logan feeling enough hatred in her bones to fuel a third world country for at least a year. Her hatred only grew more whenever their director ordered them to practice lines together, alone, and all Logan could seem to focus on was the way their smile still seemed to make her feel like mush. She needed to focus. “Do you want to go from the top with your new and improved attitude or?”

It felt like they had been trapped for a week, but it couldn’t have been more than a day. Ariella felt broken, and it wasn’t just the broken or badly sprained ankle. Whatever it was that was hunting them had certainly done a good job. There was no trace of the insolent girl one would have found 48 hours ago. Any impish behavior was erased. She was just lost and scared. Taking a deep breath, Ariella tried to erase the shakiness that had taken hold of her voice. “I think you should run.” She said to them, not looking at anything except their only security - a basic locked door. “I’ll distract it, and you can make it to the road.”