— depravity.

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〝   nuh   -   uh,   we're   not   doing   this.   〞she   lets   out   a   bitter   laugh,   because   obviously,   she   finds   nothing   funny   about   their   situation   or   hassan   playing   dumb   or   coy.   〝   don't   act   like   it's   just   a   silly,   little   rant   after   a   stressful   day   of   work   –––  you   know   what   you're   doing.   you're   using   me.   〞forces   herself   to   tear   gaze   away   from   his,   knowing   vague,   hazy   look   on   his   features   were   fraudulent.   hassan   was   pretending;   pretending   that   kailani   was   the   only   one   he   truly   desired   when   she   knew   the   truth.   she   was   an   escape   when   homme's   real   life   wasn't   satisfying   him.   〝   like   i   said,   it's   not   happening   anymore.   go   see   a   therapist   and   then   go   work   on   your   actual   relationship.   because   i   won't   be   dragged   into   this   toxicity   anymore.   〞

the facade was never built to last. even the prettiest lies begin to crack beneath the weight of constant wanting - his manipulation, his relentless reach to shape the world to his will, no matter who lay bruised in the aftermath. but hassan, for all his flaws, was no stranger to persistence. he’d claw his way toward what he wanted, even if it meant trying a little harder (a tragedy in itself, surely). "the fact that you think i'm using you is laughable, kai." he murmured, voice like a slow-burning match. "using you for what? time? attention? i could go anywhere for that." perhaps the first flicker of truth he’s offered her - an ember of honesty glowing low in the ruins. because still, still, he circles back to her like gravity. maybe not for love. maybe not for good. but for something. "you could've just said you were over seeing me, if that's the case. you don't have to make it seem like i'm a villain in the process."

〝   okay,   damn.   〞his   timbre   is   low   and   smooth,   almost   amused   –––   but   not   quite.   because   beneath   the   usual   arrogance   wrapped   in   that   silky   voice,   there’s   a   sense   of   urgency.   a   note   of   desperation,   even.   〝   look,   i'm   not   asking   you   to   fall   in   love   with   me,   or   even   hold   my   hand   in   private   places   if   it's   gonna   make   you   gag   like   that.   just   .   .   .   pretend.   until   people   stop   thinking   i'm   the   kind   of   guy   who   forgets   names   after   like,   two,   drinks.   〞zack   pauses,   eyes   searching   hers   like   maybe   if   he   looks   long   enough,   she'll   surrender.   〝   and   you   can   get   whatever   you   want   out   of   it.   clothes,   money,   vip   backstage   tickets   to   any   artist   of   your   choice,   or   to   make   someone   you   like   jealous.   i'll   play   along   and   make   it   oscar   worthy.   〞

it still felt like a joke, his question, but the longer mina listened, the more she realized this was not, in fact, a joke. "oh, you're like serious serious." her hand found the back of her neck, a familiar nervous gesture, fingers grazing skin like they might uncover a way out of this. she scoffed when he mentioned love, that word too heavy to land gracefully. "yeah, thanks for the warning, fabio, i'll be okay. i'm just wondering how far you're going to go to try to convince me to do this." as if she didn’t already carry the weight of being told she didn’t belong - didn’t earn it, didn’t deserve it. popular online for makeup looks that weren’t even that elaborate, just hers. the last thing she needed was to be tethered to someone actually famous, giving the internet another reason to sharpen their knives and twist the story. she opened her mouth to protest again, but the words dissolved on her tongue. "you said vip backstage tickets?"

quirks   a   brow,   amusement   flickering   behind   her   sunglasses   as   she   drops   onto   the   chair   beside   him,   legs   stretched   long   and   golden   in   the   sun.   〝   that’s   your   opener?   〞   she   questions,   twist   slightly   to   face   him.   her   lips   curl,   not   quite   a   smirk,   but   definitely   knowing.   〝   not   hi,   zoey,   how've   you   been?   what,   did   you   rehearse   that   in   the   mirror?   right   after   practicing   how   to   look   all   cool   and   casual   with   your   stupid   sunglasses?   〞leans   forward   to   reach   for   her   drink,   stirring   a   straw   so   vodka   and   juice   are   both   mixed   well.   〝   you're   lucky   you're   cute,   hayes.   because   that   was   like   –––  so   bad.   〞

he supposed he should have come armed with something smoother, or - better yet - kept his mouth shut, as they both had done so far in the quiet war of glances and silence. instead, a half-hearted shrug lifted and fell from his shoulders, followed by an open-palmed gesture, the kind that whispered: this is the best you're going to get. "wrote it down, rehearsed it, ran my lines with my friend. i had to make sure i got it down." his head lolled back against the chair, a lazy tilt angling him closer to her orbit as her voice unfurled again; soft, smug, inevitable. "at least you can acknowledge i'm cute. i've already weaseled my way inside your head - my master plan is working quite nicely, i'd say."

  laugh  hitched  in  her  throat,  soft  and  frayed  at  the  edges.  too  breathy,  too  obvious — as  she  leaned  against  the  doorframe.  so  this  is  the  brother.  the  one  hanna  had  described  as  "a  gremlin  and   had  the  worst  music  taste."  the  dissonance  was  almost  laughable.  his  hair  was  sleep tousled,  yes,  but  in  that  way  that  suggested  a  storm  had  passed  through  it  and  left  something  artful  in  its  wake.  “insomnia’s  a  bitch.  ”  shrugging  one  shoulder,  she  volleyed  back,  voice  honeyed  but  edged.  a  habit  when  caught  off  guard.  the  remnants  of  sleep  clung  to  her  posture,  fingers  raking  through  wavy  hair.  “hanna  mentioned  you’d  be  lurking  ...  though  she  failed  to  mention  you’d  be  judging  my  midnight  crisis.”

it wasn’t uncommon for his sister to bring people home - she had always been the flame in the room, drawing others in like moths with her effortless charm. daniel, by contrast, lived in the quiet corners. a self-made recluse, worn thin by the static of conversation. still, people found their way to him. perhaps for no greater reason than to tug at the edges of his composure. "yeah, i've heard that." he muttered, voice flat but not unkind. he’d never been one for small talk - never saw the point in words that floated nowhere. he leaned into the counter nearest him, arms folding across his chest in a gesture so familiar it was nearly muscle memory. "lurking is a strong word." a quiet huff followed, not quite a sigh, more an exhale of quiet disdain. not for her, but for the label his twin gave. lurking. "is that how you feel? judged?"

preparation for any other reaction falls flat.    this projected indifference lurks into uncharted territory.    holly is frozen in place,    left to gauge every miniscule expression pulled across his features.    despite her earlier point,    her head tilts.    some buttons beg to be pushed.    “no,    say what you mean.”    words are spoken before self-preservation kicks in.    “did it bother you, seeing that?”

there was a sharp, almost startled inhale - a flicker of breath catching in his throat as the question curled into his ears, soft and sudden. his heart began to beat harder, faster, like it too had been caught off guard. he could’ve let the whole situation slide, could’ve smoothed it over with silence, tucked it away in the folds of pretending, worn normalcy like a second skin. but sam wasn’t wired like that. he never had been. "yeah, it did." he said, voice still not confident in itself, though attempting to be. "i know we're not, like, anythin' serious. i just didn't think i'd be seein' that, s'all. it wouldn't bother you if i'm with another girl like'at?" wasn’t saying it to be cruel, or to be petty. truly, it was just a flicker of curiosity, quiet and earnest. as if, all at once, he was brushing up against the delicate truth that his mind and hers were not one and the same, and maybe never had been.

“dutifully noted.”    a teasing salute from his template done in confirmation,    “i'll take any blame that could come our way.    is it really so bad,    though?”    in part,    he knows that the answer is a resounding yes.    the more he rises to the spotlight,    the further his reputation seems to spiral out of his control.    “could always tell them we're writing,    late night muse called,    somethin' like that.”    somehow he doubts that it would help.  he waves the idea away as they reach his car,    opening the passenger with an inviting wave.    “worry-free zone,    by the way.”

vi couldn't quite pin down why anxiety clung to her - ever-present, lingering in her lungs. it wasn’t as though she’d be sent to jail for slipping out the door when morning held a time call in its palm. maybe it was the unshakable quiet in his voice, or maybe she was simply worn thin by the constant hum of panic in her chest. either way, she decided - softly, almost imperceptibly - to relax. "oh, it really is that bad. you've not yet faced the wrath that is my sister. and i don't even want to get started on if my manager finds out." a slow shake of her head, the memory surfacing like sea foam; how brutally the others had been scolded for skinny dipping when they were in mexico. "good idea! and then we come back with no new music and pretend we saved it all in our heads and have to improv a song on the spot. that could be fun, no?" she wasn’t really being all that sarcastic (maybe a little) but mostly she was genuinely curious, quietly wondering how she’d hold herself together when things got tight. after a beat, vi slips into the car, the door closing, and a small smile flickers across her lips. "i'll try my best. scout's honor." brunette waited until he entered the driver's side door before asking: "if aliens came to earth and you were appointed to show them their very first song ever, what song would you pick? this could absolutely have dire consequences, by the way."

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