#vj.

victoria ignores gwen. acting as if she hadn't heard her, as if she hadn't recognized that voice or that accent and that mocking question that kept replaying in her ears. even with the loud music, even with everything going on around them, that's all she could hear. still, she stands up straight, though she looks everywhere but at gwen. funny, almost silly how she does that now when the whole reason why gwen asked that in the first place is due to the fact that she couldn't help herself — she kept watching gwen, as she so often does when they both end up at the casino. she should've known it would've ended up happening somewhere else, too. it's annoying how it's almost as if her eyes have a mind of their own, always finding gwen. always looking at her. always finding a reason to... be annoyed by her. (disarmed by her.) "i don't know what you're talking about." she doesn't admit it — hell, she still can't even look at gwen; she already knows she has that stupid smirk on her face by now. victoria falters, letting go of that tension and that animosity. at least for a second. "you look..." words fail her. a first. "you look... nice tonight." and there it is, the admission that she had been looking at her all night. the admission that she can't help herself, no matter how hard she tries.

she's danced enough for the night. hell, she's flirted enough for the night — she knows it's time to have a drink and observe. it's something she often does when they go out but for the most part, she's used to watching her crew members hit on regular miami residents (often failing, but she won't tell them she's witnessed their hits and misses). this time, she's watching everyone... everything. especially them. they're always so rowdy and unruly. victoria can't help but wonder who let them out of their cage. a white cranberry cosmo is her choice of drink for the night. she sips it slowly, savoring it on the tip of her tongue. it'll be enough for a light buzz. she turns her body as someone slides into the seat next to her, her brow raising in curiosity. "having fun?" she asks, thinking back on what she's seen throughout the night, hoping she has something to tease them with. "— i recommend the cosmo, by the way."

black dress, matching dagger necklace & earrings, dagger shoes + leather jacket.

it's late, almost four in the morning, but she can't find it in herself to go back to her apartment just yet. she's sitting on a bench watching the waves with an unopened bottle of vodka next to her, and a brand new pack of camels that she only buys once a year in lieu of her usual marlboros on her lap. her mother's birthday brings out a side of her that she loathes — she feels weak and needy, almost frail and child-like... but she can't help that she misses her mother, or at least the mom she knew once upon a time. victoria had driven to key west as she does every year on the first day of march, watching from afar as her mother and father eat dinner at her mother's favorite restaurant. the last time she'd joined them, she'd been seventeen; she wonders what it'd be like now at twenty-five. she's about to place the bottle of vodka back into her purse when she sees her (what is she even doing up at this hour?), and she sighs in resignation. she's not up for a game or a fight. not tonight. victoria doesn't even need to look at gwen to be able to picture the way the other is looking at her — likely with a smirk and eyes that are hungry for a round two. she's watched her enough to know; she's memorized the way the other looks at her. while victoria doesn't out-right call out for gwen, who else would she be speaking to? there's no one else around. "how long have you been with... them?" she asks, curiosity getting the best of her. she knows nothing about gwen other than her name, her crew and the fact that she likes to gamble just as much as she does. (she knows her tells, especially when she's got a losing hand. she knows the way her lips taste, the noises she makes, the way her teeth... —). she shouldn't ask these things, she shouldn't even be talking to gwen, but she can't help it. she'll allow herself another night of being around her, especially after seeing her parents from afar. "sit. i have vodka."

victoria knows she could (and should) hit up one of her friends, maybe couch-surf until she gets an apartment of her own, but with the money she stole she knows that she has time to figure things out. for now, her plan is to switch out license plates in the morning and drive to key largo — hell, maybe even drive all the way up to miami and away from this place. but that's for tomorrow. today, she celebrates her newfound freedom. today, she celebrates no longer being restricted by the expectations of people who never really cared about her. today, she begins her journey of becoming a jang she can be proud of.