—pure of heart, dumb of ass

ZOE MANNAN. 25. ASSISTANT / ASPIRING COMEDY WRITER.

Hometown: Appleton, WI Current Residence: The Bronx NY Gender/Pronouns: Cis Woman / She/Her Traits: clever, passionate, funny, endearing, scattered, sloppy 

     Something to beat the heat. That had been his wife’s request and Parker liked to deliver. Of course, he had to add a bit of mischief to the equation to keep Zoe on her toes. As they approached the fenced off community pool, he glanced over at her with the same excitement he typically wore when he was about to lead them into some kind of trouble. “So it’s locked,” he started, “but the other day, I realized I can just climb over and unlock it from the inside to let you in.” While he explained, the blue of his eyes never strayed from her in case there was any hesitation in her expression for him to catch and soothe away. “It’ll be like when we were dating and sneaking into school’s pool,” Parker added. // @zoe-mannan​

**

It was, to put it bluntly, hot as fuck out. She wanted to be more chill (pun intended) about the whole thing, but the sun, as the kids would say, ‘was not passing the vibe check’ and neither was she. She’d spent the entire morning whining about it, and either out of love or pure frustration, her husband had finally decided to do something about it, dragging her out of their air-conditioned apartment for some sort of surprise that would apparently be ‘worth it.’

Thus far, she was still on the fence... 

She looked at the approaching pool with envy, not yet realizing her husband knew her frighteningly well. But when they stopped, and she saw that excited, mischievous gleam in his eye, a wide smile broke out across her face. “I knew I married you for more than just your smoking hot bod and your parent’s money I knew nothing about,” she teased.

Ebony didn’t hesitate, girls gotta look out for girls right. “I don’t see anything. You’re good.”  She reassured the woman. 

“Ugh, bless you!” Zoe replied. “And would you say these pants are flattering? I’m still not sure I’m completely sold, but I’ve only got, like, two hours max before I lose the receipt and can’t return them anymore...”

He opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out. Awkward and unexpected question that was for sure. He blinked. “Uh… Come again?”

“My butt,” she said again, as though he were particular slow for not catching her meaning immediately. “I’ve got no time for social niceties here, pal, so we’re skipping the preamble. Is there anything on it? I’m seeing my in-laws, and I’m pretty sure they think I ruined their son, so I gotta convince them I was at least worth it...”

“How’d you know I was an ass man.” Theo mused,  all jokes aside, well almost “There are much easier ways of hitting on a stranger,” 

**

“You have a vibe,” she shrugged, though who knew if that was actually true. In Zoe’s humble opinion, there was no one who couldn’t enjoy the art of a well-formed butt. “But sadly the question is genuine. If I wanted to hit on you, I’d ask you to be mine and my husband’s third...”

“Awkward question: could you check out my ass real quick and tell me what you see?”

“Oh yeah totally, I’m the person you want in your corner stopping you from wrecking your marriage, I’ve got a fucking brilliant moral compass.” Rylan cackled through the gasp that came from the end of her downing the drink which was indeed straight up tequila. Without even lime or salt? Barbaric! Testament to how the rest of pride was going to go, it was no time for wimping out. “I’ll stop you ruining your marriage if you stop me ruining my career so Dolly doesn’t have my ass, got it?” Picking up two more drinks so she could pass one over to her friend, a silent dare, smirking.

**

“Okay, but you’ve seen Parker’s cute lil stupid sad face, right? Imagine him directing the full power of that solely at you.” It was fucking devastating, honestly. “That’s what’s at stake here. He’s entrusting you with me.” It was dramatic, and backwards, but Zoe preferred dealing in dramatics. She met Rylan’s look with a shit-eating grin before knocking back a new shot. “I still maintain Dolly is dumb as fuck because in what world would being in a loving throuple with a stable married couple not be the best possible fix for your public image?”

Chocolate hues examined the young woman next to her, ingesting that liquor as if her life depended on it. Renata respected that. A melodic chuckle elicited her lips at her next words, provoking a shrug from the Italian fashionista. “If you need someone to stop you from wrecking your marriage, is it not already wrecked in some degree?” She questioned with a cynical tone laced with playfulness, her own experience with a wrecked marriage was all too clear in her mind. If only someone had stopped her ex husband from getting slutty when they were married. It would’ve solved a whole lot of problems. “I’m only kidding, darling.” Was she, though? “How about we do more shots? Are you happy to stick with tequila or would you rather opt for something else… vodka?”

Zoe did not belong anywhere near the fashion elite. She was a Maxxinista for life who somehow fell into a crowd she had no right to by being (admittedly) hilarious enough to bag a model for a platonic soulmate. She so clearly gave off ‘quirky best friend’ vibes that she didn’t even feel insecure about it; she would gladly be the court jester until someone forked over the money to finance her first series.

“You haven’t met my husband,” she joked back with a laugh. They were unconventional to say the least, but definitely not wrecked. “Ugh, I mix my liquors and I’m definitely going to bed — and not in the sexy way.”

  “You know, this is why people invented cocktails,” to water down cheap liquor, the media tycoon failed to precise. People could be so touchy about their choices after all. Leaning against the counter, Oliver waved impatiently at the bartenders, who were oh-so-awfully busy not being available for him. He would have gladly sent his assistant to do it for him, but the yacht was getting busy and he could have used the fresh air. The lady next to him was entertaining at least. “Just so I’m sure I got it right: you wanna get real slutty, but you also do not want to wreck your marriage?” There was no judgement whatsoever in his question, but he truly wondered how the two elements could fit together.

**

“Yeah,” she stated, in the same tone she might have replied ‘duh.’ As though it were obvious. As if her and her husband had ever operated in any way that could be considered normal. “I can probably get away with kissing 3 people, max. But no tongue. I swore he’d be the only tongue for the rest of my life because I’m a romantic like that...” Was she talking out of her ass? Probably. But tequila hit her hard.

Back in college, before Zoe and Parker even started dating, they used to compete to see who could get the most phone numbers on a night out. Since those humble beginnings, it has evolved into a very intense, very strictly regulated competition Zoe has lovingly dubbed THE DIVORCE GAME. 

The rules are simple (except for the fact they are constantly being changed and added to): 

Whoever has the most points at the end of the night — or 3am, whichever comes sooner — is the winner, the loser has to buy dinner do the dishes and take out the trash for a week 

Getting someone’s number is worth 1 point. 

Having someone ask for your number unprompted is worth 2 points. 

Someone buying you a drink is worth 5 points 3 points 4 points. 

@exclusivestarters​

“Yes. I mean, no. Yes, your fingerprints do change, but it’s not like actual. It changes with cuts, burns, stuff like that. What types you have form with your movement in the womb, and that’s that. It’s like, wear and tare. That being said, you’re still gonna die with the same prints. Everywhere. Like, your footprints, the sides of your palms, wrists, elbows..” Hadi was rambling without realizing it after he had pressed his finger into the little bit of mocha that ran down the side of his cup.

** 

“Is this, like, a typical pick up line for you? I mean, I’m up for workshopping it if you’re really set on the slightly creepy nerd-boy thing, but it’s kind of a niche audience... I feel like your stupidly symmetrical face is your real selling point; I’d lead with that.” 

@exclusivestarters​

location: any art gallery

open to all!!

“listen,” she whispers as if not to disturb any of the other patrons, well, except for the one right next to her.  her eyes move from the poorly done painting to look at the person next to her before she actually continues, “i appreciate abstract art as much as the next one, truly, i do. but you can’t tell me that this doesn’t look like something that some rabid monkey painted.”

** 

“I painted this,” Zoe said with straight-faced indignation. She didn’t, but figured it would be fun to see how someone might wiggle their way out of it.