The room is spinning. Before, when she'd been dancing-- the spinning made sense. but now, she's standing still, and leaning against a bathroom counter covered in a light dusting of cocaine. She dials Roman's number from memory, her hand shaking slightly as she squints at the too bright screen. "Ro--" she hiccups softly, when she realises he's picked up. "Please don't be mad--" her voice is soft but slurred, and she's too new at this to be any good at disguising her inebriation. "I'm-- i'm at onyx and there's this guy-- I-- I had all these shots and the room won't stop spinning, and he won't leave me alone--" There's a part of her that just feels ashamed that she couldn't handle herself, that she was calling him for a rescue. "I don't know what to do--"

based on: We always see each other in the elevator and now we’ve gotten stuck because of a power outage so really, I guess we should get to know one another at this point.

"....are you okay? like is everything...alright round here? it's been suspiciously silent tonight and i came to see if you were....you know, alive. i'd hate to have a dead body next door so--" she gives them a soft smile. "i'm gray by the way-- i'm next door."

They've been good. Uncharacteristically good. Almost unnaturally good...so Alex should have known they were headed for a major bump in the road sometime soon. She's fresh off the stage at the first panel of a 3 month press run for her newest project and she should be basking in the glow of the awards season buzz that's been building ever since she got involved but she isn't. She can't. She broke her own cardinal rule and clicked the trending twitter tag that bore her own name. Just like her publicist had predicted, the speculation is already running rampant about her and her ex. Filming with him had been equal parts infuriating and fulfilling because as terrible as they are for each other off screen, all of the chemistry between them made for on-screen gold. They've had multiple meetings with their publicity teams where the obvious question has been floated and she's batted it away each time but...there's Oscar buzz on the table now, getting more eyes on the film with the promise of a real life rekindling of the co-stars might push them both over the edge where publicity is concerned and that changes things.

She's sat on the edge of the bed. Jaw clenched and mind racing through all of the possible ways she can bring this up to Roman. Try as she might, she can't seem to figure out a way to package this that won't blow up the delicate balance they've maintained for the past few weeks. She hears the soft click of the front door as he gets back in and braces herself for whatever will come next before she calls out to him. "I'm in here, babe."

she's sober this time, maybe out of guilt-- possibly out of fear of developing a habit she wouldn't be able to shake. it's been 48 hours since she snuck out of blake's house, since she kissed him, and she can still feel the echo of it in her blood stream. blake always brought things to the surface, feelings she was ill equipped to deal with, feelings she was constantly running from, all flared to life at the sight of him.

she comes baring gifts, his laundered shirt and a box of pastries from a bakery down her street. It feels inadequate, but she owes him the attempt at the very least. and maybe, this time she'll stay long enough for them to get to the bottom of this thing, long enough for them to feel finished. or start again--

she rings the doorbell, and waits. each second makes her stomach churn with dread. and then the door opens--

and it's not blake at all--

it's a girl and she's beautiful.

"oh-- um-- Hi. I'm looking for Blake? Is he home?"

For someone that wasn’t much of a people person, Warren often found himself surrounded by them. It was always some random party in some random acquaintance’s basement breathing in more smoke than air. Not that he wasn’t contributing to the pollution himself. White tendrils of smoke curled between his pursed lips, swirling higher and higher until it joined in the cloud over his head. Flicking the end of the blunt and scattering ashes in a random coffee can that’d been repurposed into an ash tray, he passed it on to Naya without even looking at her.

Also: Vanessa Morgan, Cindy Kimberly, Taraji P. Henson (for my Michael Ealy, por favor), Alexis Ren… I could give you like a bunch more, tbh.

@munofmanyminds

For the past week or so, all they’ve been doing is arguing. Bringing each other to the verge of a full-blown fight and then retreating over and over again in the same exhausting cycles. This time, though, it isn’t just arbitrary mood swings on her part. There’s an underlying reason why she’s been all over the place recently. She isn’t the best communicator, that’s always been a fact, but she’s been even more closed off than usual and even more likely to snap at the most insignificant things (if that’s even possible). For the most part Roman’s been doing a brilliant job of disengaging before they go too far.