𝖑𝖊𝖘𝖇𝖎𝖆𝖓 𝓳𝓮𝓼𝓾𝓼

open starter @exclusivestarters​ location uno pizzeria & bar 

for the past hour, aubrey was sitting inside of the restaurant, chatting with her mother. she has been calling her several times a day, just to check on her and make sure that she is okay. it started to be a little bit annoying but aubrey understood it. she would be the same if she was a mother and her kid had an accident. “okay, ma. bye. see you in twenty minutes.” she joked but with a kind and loving smile on her face. exhealing deeply, she noticed a pair of eyes looking at her. “you know, parents. no matter how old you are, you are still a little baby to them.”

🌙

Thalia can’t help but to overhear the tail end of the conversation next to her as she waits on her order of mozzarella sticks, a sheepish smile etching across her lips when she realizes that she’s been busted on eavesdropping. “Believe me, I get it,” she replies with a small laugh, her eyes flickering away one last time before she realizes that the other woman is talking to no one else but her. “My mom’s one step away from using her retirement time to making a PowerPoint presentation explaining why all of us kids should just move back in with her.” She tipped her head in the woman’s direction. “Is your mom local?”

Thalia approaches with a ridiculous smile on her face, gleeful over her latest acquisitions. “You will never believe what I found — it’s a fuckin’ vodka gummy bear popsicle shaped like a dick. Only time you’ll ever see one of those in my mouth,” she laughs, her other hand extending the paper plate in Evie’s direction. “I did get some non-phallus shaped pizza, though, you wanna split it? No one else I’d share carbs with.”

drag queen karaoke at stonewall with @thlias​

Already quite tipsy, and laughing at everything and nothing, Lalia scanned the available songs for karaoke, almost bouncing with excitement at getting to sing with Thalia. “I hope you know I’m going straight to the Cheetah Girls section and if they don’t have any of their songs, I’m walking right out,” she joked.

🌙

Thalia felt like a bottle of champagne: considerable alcoholic content but could stand to do with some more, bubbling right over her brim with laughter and excitement. She’d been waiting for this moment for quite some time, Pride being perhaps the most fitting place of all to make their debut. “If you pick anything other than a Cheetah Girls song, I’m leaving you,” she replied in earnest, hands resting on Lalia’s shoulders and squeezing them. “Listen, I hope you like sharing the stage, Bubbles, because once we do this, I’m gonna insist that every performance I do from now ‘til the end of time be with you.” 

WHERE: CONEY BOARDWALK/BEACH WITH: @thlias​

“Well, sight for sore eyes, lookie lookie here. I have glitter in my backpack if you need some extra.”

🌙

Thalia’s lips immediately curled upright, a bemused smile taking up space across her mouth. “Well well, look who it is.” Her eyes took a quick venture of the other woman before lifting up towards her face. "I always need extra glitter, Sanderson. It’s Pride, how’s there such a thing as too much?” One of her eyebrows vaulted in curiosity. “This isn’t some... y’know, obscure way of you planning to poison me, is it? I never know how they deliver anthrax in the modern day.” Before the other had a chance to interject, one of Thalia’s hands lifted up in mock arrest. “Don’t get your panties in a twist, ‘s just a joke. I’m willing to call a truce for the day in the spirit of the gays.”

An amused expression crossed Kenzie’s face for a brief moment as she glanced at the restaurant one more time.“…It might actually be funny to hear him say something like…Fuck off, it’s raw.” She joked, trying her best to mimic his voice. Her eyes instantly lit up at the options Thalia had pointed out. All of which sounded great, but there was one choice that she just couldn’t resist. “Taco waffles?! That doesn’t sound jarring at all. Let’s go get a fuckin’ taco waffle. Honestly, I hope that’s what they’re called.”

🌙

Thalia paused in her steps, thumb jabbing over her shoulder in the direction of the restaurant they’d just left behind. “Hey, there’s still time to go back. If we double time, we just might make it to see him throw a napkin at someone. Bonus points if the silverware’s still in them.” Her face lit up at the mention of the taco waffles, a jubilant laugh falling from her lips. “I know, right? Sounds totally jarring, but I promise, once you have one, you won’t regret it.” She smiled, arm looping around Kenzie’s as they rounded the corner on one of the streets. “I can confirm to you that it’s there in black and white on the menu: taco waffle. Damn ingenious, I say.” 

"That fucking Cinderella Story movie I did. My agent was full of horseshit — it did absolutely nothing for me or my career."

@exclusivestarters​ where: a FRIENDS pop-up experience in Staten Island

“Okay, ignoring the Ross Gellar cardboard cut-out over there… is there actually a Fight Club in this town? Like you’re telling me I could be a lobster standing on top of two people knocking each other’s teeth out in this health insurance economy?” 

Leota takes a long gulp of her ‘Rachel’s Best’ iced coffee. “Just weird to think about.”

     Lately Océane’s schedule had been overwhelming to say the least. Even though they had it planned out and organized to the minute, there was only so much energy left in their reserves, and when energy got low, of course they wouldn’t find some time to fit in a nap. Even with Nap York being down the road, they’d walked right past it and into this coffee shop. Forever pushing themselves too hard, forever forgetting to slow down. Thumb pad swiped along phone screen as they waited for their coffee to be made—unlike what most people would expect, they weren’t scrolling through their social media dash. Instead, they were scrolling through a pdf on coral bleaching, and as much as they liked to joke how their internship at the Aquarium got on their nerves, reading through the pdf made emotion sink into their abdomen. The state of the world’s oceans was just getting worse, and they both felt powerless to stop it, and yet still passionate to try. Too lost in thought, they hadn’t even heard their name called when it was. Instead, it was the soft hello of a voice they’d come to know like melody in the breeze. A doe-eyed gaze lifted to the sound, and a surprise settled into their core, though it radiated out with some sort of soft excitement and they felt the overwhelming urge to move forward and hold Thalia as they had done so many times previous. But, instead, they stayed a respectful distance away, cheeks blooming with reddened hue beneath warm complexion. Hands reached out for their coffee, as it was no longer appropriate to reach out for Thalia’s hands, or her waist, or her face. Their hands held tightly around the warm liquid, feeling its comfort despite the temperature outside, which they had been overheating often in, in their binder. 

    “Hey,” they answered after a pause, gazing into Thalia’s eyes. Warm, like chocolate, just like they’d remembered them. The moment held the weight of all their yearning, as if they couldn’t believe she was actually there, standing in front of them. “It’s good to see you, too…” they paused again, chewing on lip in hesitation. The truth about how things were was something Océane hadn’t been ready to confront for a long time—they kept up a happy persona, allowed the world to see the successful person they wanted to be. But Thalia knew them. Thalia really knew them, and if they were to answer truthfully, they knew she would worry. So, instead, they lied, and tried to ignore the guilt that immediately ached inside of them. They never had liked lying to her. “Things are great! Um… I graduated… got an internship at the Aquarium,” they nodded slowly, chewing on the inside of their cheek, and then nervously lifted coffee to lips, only to have their expression crumple immediately with confusion. “Hey—did you put milk in this? Like, regular milk? I’m not trying to be a jerk, but I don’t drink milk,” they then suddenly interacted with the barista, who apologized and took the coffee back to remake it. Océane cast a bashful look Thalia’s way. “God, I hate having to do that,” they mumbled. “What about you? Have you, um.. gotten anymore roles?”

🌙

It’s not hard for Thalia to lose herself in Océane, the way she’s done so many times before. Call it a creature of habit kicking into its muscle’s memory, call it a longing to just feel as though she knows them again so that the world doesn’t feel totally off kilter — she has to shake herself out of the depths in molten, ever-expressive amber before she traps herself there. It’s warm and familiar there, and Thalia hates feeling like she is stuck on the outside. It’s a mutually imposed exile, and she knows it’s for the best not to break it. Because if she breaks it, she runs the risk of breaking more than just it, but them. It’s not a pill she can swallow easily. Her face lights up in enthusiasm, genuine excitement. “You did? God, ba—” she cuts herself off shortly before she says something she regrets, clearing her fringe back with the brush of her fingers. “Really, O,” she self-corrects, much more stiff this go round. “That’s... incredible. I’m really proud of you. Are you, uh, hoping that the internship leads to something else there, or are you trying to get in somewhere else?” It stings when she asks the questions, because once upon a fractured fairytale, she knew the answers to the base questions she’s asking. She didn’t even have to ask. It would have been a part of the daily exchange, the things they told each other before anyone else. 

Thalia watches with concern as her face crinkles, arm extended to get a redo on her drink. “You think they’d hear loud and clear when you request anything but,” she tries to lightly rib. “Remember that one time when we got gypped over those dairy free milkshakes? Biggest waste of fifteen bucks ever.” The laugh dies on her lips fairly quickly, because laughing about the good ol’ days just isn’t the same anymore. It’s what happens, the cycle of a relationship when it does not end with a ring on a finger and a promise of forever — it becomes awkward exchanges of pleasantries, trying not to open too many wounds in the attempt to make everything feel okay again. “Don’t feel bad about it. You weren’t an asshole about it — you should get what ‘ya paid for.” She can’t help but to notice the manner in which they glance her way, and just like that, Thalia feels as though she’s sinking into a puddle of herself all over again. “I’m doing good,” she insists. “I, uh, just wrapped on an Amazon series about a month ago? For Daisy Jones and the Six. But right now, nah. Not really. Just waiting for something to come in. Biding my time, I guess.”

Avery felt a wave of relief when the woman approached her. Now she had no problem walking away and enjoying the rest of her night. “No no, i was just getting a head start for the night with a drink, and you know me. If i’m alone, i’ll gravitate to the bar, this is our meeting spot whenever we separate remember?” she said playfully. “Took you long enough.” she said, lightly nudging her. 

She said her thank you to the bartender, glanced at the now upset male and walked away with Thalia. “Thank you so much, you are literally my hero. I’m buying your next drink.” She said with a big sigh, feeling like she held her breath the entire time she was getting hit on. “I’m Avery by the way.”

🌙

Thalia tips her head to the side, knowing smile blooming across her face even further. “I told ‘ya, I can’t remember anything to save myself. Guess we’ve gotta go back to the drawing board for a signal,” she teased. Her eyes cut over the woman’s shoulder at the man, his face visibly darkening and sinking, and the sight of it only brightens the glint in her eyes. She hates people like this, like that. It gives her a great swell of satisfaction knowing she’s probably ruining his night, even though he probably should have saw it coming a mile away.

The two walk away from the bar and Thalia can spot from a mile away the sigh of relief. She smiles, genuinely, brushing it off with the wave of her hand. “Not a problem,” she says warmly. “Men, am I right?” She sits down at her table, gesturing for Avery to take the other seat. “All yours if you want it, Avery. I’m Thalia, ‘s... well, circumstances of meeting you aren’t all that pleasant, but it is. Nice to meet you. You waiting on someone or did you come out to drink by yourself?”

x

Despite there being literally millions of people living in the city, New York had a strangely similar vibe to her middle-of-fucking-nowhere shit hometown of Greenwood. This was not because both places had a similar feel, similar atmosphere, similar taste, or even similar population patterns. In fact, they were polar opposites. What the two seemed to share, at least in Sherri’s case, was the uncanny ability to throw the people Sherri least expected to see right into her path like clockwork. Some may call it serendipitous moments — Sherri called it the universe fucking her over. She was struck with that thought now as she experienced an-out-of-body moment of reflection in the split seconds it took her to recognize the shitstorm she’d inadvertently walked herself into.

She was in the last leg of her shift at Starlight and everything was normal. She’d clocked in, served diner food and a shitton of desserts, sang a bunch of show tunes she loved to people cheering her on, threw around gold stars like confetti — a normal day. She thought nothing when her co-worker asked her to cover her tables for a bit while she stepped out. Sherri was up next for the roulette; she could sing a song, check in on the tables, do a few housekeeping tasks, and clock out. No sweat. So, she called attention to herself as she spun the wheel for the next song of the night and got right into the swing of things. Everything went about as she could expect as she sang and danced around the diner, all eyes on her. A normal day. At least, until she heard an expletive nearby. Not the usual reaction to her singing, and coming from one the tables she’s meant to cover, no less. But she was too into her performance to do anything about it then, so she only made a mental note to get a proper look when she checked up on the table later. 

Now she wishes she could go back in time and tell performing Sherri to look now so she could have prevented herself from the shitstorm she is in now.

Because now, Sherri was, undoubtedly, in a shitstorm. A serendipitous moment — a fuck you from the universe. Because, after performing the song, she had handed the mic over to a coworker and began to sashay her way right over to the tables she was meant to cover. As she walked over, she glanced over at the patrons she would be serving only to find herself stopping dead in her tracks at what she saw. Thalia Emerson was sitting at her booth. Thalia Emerson was sitting in her booth. Unbidden, a memory from the last time she saw the woman was unearthed from the deep dark recesses of her mind. The party. The confrontation. Angry words melting into lips and panting and the overwhelming feeling of fucking finally and  — NO. Just as quickly as the memory had resurfaced had Sherri shoved it back into the darkness where it belonged. There was no reason to feel flustered, for her heart to be pounding as fast as it was, for her cheeks to even blush. Tha—Cinder was here, and Cinder was like every other patron in the diner. No more, no less. Sherri squared her shoulders, flipped her hair, and continued her walk over to the very normal table of patrons, plastering a smile on her face as she forced herself to be casual. “Hey you guys! How’s everything going over here? Enjoy the performance?” She forced herself to also look at Cinder, keeping her pleasant tone in place. “Do we need anything? Refills, another dessert, a song request?”

🌙

When she was doing her time out in LA, one bad teen thing after another, she and some of her roommates would take a trip to Beachwood Canyon, do a hike up Mount Lee and situate themselves on the dirt to look out over the city. Someone would bring tiny liquor bottles that they could down in a flash, shove the evidence of into the waistbands of their pants or cups of their bras, and they’d talk. They’d talk about what stupid things they’d watched on the E! network, about customers that ground into their last nerve and their latest injustice with a tenant a few doors down from them. They’d laugh and sometimes they’d cry at the weight of sitting in the open air with no strings around their wrists, they’d vocalize their dreams and wish for things to simply cease in their existence. It was hard to see the stars in LA, with the smog and the neon glare of the city below, but Thalia would often find a particularly bright light, pretend it was a star, and place her thoughts, her wishes, her manifestations all into that pinprick of concentrated light. 

There’s gold star confetti scattered on the tabletop; Thalia finds a piece and places her finger on it, idly trailing it around the surface of the table and places her only current track of thought into the tiny star beneath her. Please don’t come over. Please ignore me. Pretend you’ve forgotten. You already have. She keeps her eyes down at the table as Sherri approaches, metering her expression into nonchalance. Indifference. Hardly even focused.

Thalia’s friends are unlike her — they are rowdy, all smiles and laughs and shouts as Sherri approaches. “Some next level shit,” Scottie drawls in his praise. “Y’know, a voice like that, surprised you haven’t been on Broadway before.” The group murmurs agreements, and Thalia wonders if they’re all as dumb as they look or if they really just don’t know the first thing about her. Scottie elbows. “You’d put our girl here to shame.”

“Scottie, shut up,” Thalia mumbles underneath her breath, returning the jab. She feels the weight of Sherri’s eyes on her and like opposing ends of magnets, never the same but pulled together by the cruel magnetism of the world, she looks up. She’s composed even if there’s a slight flush in her cheeks, and she looks Sherri square in the eye. She knows that if they were underneath stage lights, they’d look hazel, but tonight they’re just brown. Brown, cold, a shortcut straight into a black hole where she could absolutely get fucked. “I wouldn’t mind one of those Mudslide milkshakes. One that’s got the vodka in it?” She just barely withholds the snide comment to request anything from Cinderella. 

"I've heard maybe, four Taylor Swift songs over the course of my life, and I'd use exactly zero of them to describe me."

"Well now you're just asking for trouble. Pick just one? That's unfair, there's like, scores of 'em in this city. I dunno. Hana? Val? Elena? Kelsey? Lara? If attractiveness was a test, they all scored an A+." ( @vihanadavis @stupidxlamb @elenarey @kelseyrobinson @larasadik )

"Getting that stupid H2O tattoo? Nah, in all seriousness, I don't really dwell on the whole what if of things. That gets into the whole butterfly effect, and I think everything in my life has had to happen exactly the way it did, when it did, in order to get to the point I'm at now. I mean, if I got to play God for a little while, I'd really like to have kept my Dad around for longer, just so we could share in those moments together. Have him be able to see me on Broadway. Be able to buy both him and my mom into retirement."

Thalia likes to think of herself as pretty consistent; she's vivacious, stubborn, compassionate, got a gnarly sarcastic streak and a little feisty when the right buttons are pushed, and that extends to the people that she doesn't know, the people she does on a professional and personal front, the people she's trying to charm the pants off of, the people she has a history with and even the people that she doesn't get along with. People like @chrysvora see a little bit more of the reticence in her, because she's treading lightly, still nursing some of the papercut wounds that still linger over that first Real Love. People like @missysadie get the snark in full force, get the fighter's gloves and the feistiness because she can't look a challenge anywhere but the eye. 

People like @sherrilowe, though, don't get Thalia. Thalia absolutely, 100% behaves differently around Sherri — it wasn't like that in the beginning, of course, but considering everything that has gone down between them and then the lack thereof, Thalia's certainly not herself when Sherri's around. Even though it's been a hot second since The Incident and Thalia's had time to at least lay out everything she's been feeling, there's not a whole lot of closure on that front, and it's grated a lot of herself down. She's pissed, she's confused, she's hurt, and Sherri is the person that Thalia's designated to take it out on now that she's decided to no longer take it out on herself. Thalia definitely wants to lunge straight for the jugular but the fact she had her feelings fucked with left her cold towards Sherri, a very polished and sharp exterior.

"Favorite has been Daisy Jones and the Six. Least favorite thing I have ever been in, without question, is the five minute supporting role I had in the fifth A Cinderella Story movie. Kinda redeemed me when I did Cinderella on Broadway, but holy shit, was doing that movie a special kind of torture, and I was only there for like, a weekend of filming. Thank god we as a society decided we'd had enough and stopped making those."