"There is nothing to writing- all you have to do is sit down at a typewriter and bleed."

LOOK!!
TWO STORIES!
 
i didn't go any farther because i didn't want to ruin @vampire-weakend's plan
so HERE IS THIS STORY
 
AHHHH
 
It's pretty long!
I was excited about that.
 
The songs are:
- power & control// marina and the diamonds
- neon cathedral// macklemore feat. allen stone
 
I hope you enjoy!
---------------------------------
 
april 26th-
 
"think you’re funny,
think you’re smart,
think you’re gonna
break my heart
think you’re funny,
think you’re smart,
yeah, you may be good looking,
but you’re not a piece of art."
 
I could hear my own words being spat in my face- "I don't get why young people start smoking cigarettes nowadays!"- as I took another long, luxurious drag of the "emergency" cigarettes I kept under my nightstand.
 
Oliver was on his way over,
and I was nervous for him to see the Penthouse for the first time.
 
And on top of that, I had a million thoughts all charging to be the central one: Cam, Alex, Rob's party, my life plan.
And so instead of thinking each thought, I took a drag.
 
And, so far, I had chain smoked 6 cigarettes.
 
I was sitting on my balcony in a fold up chair, my feet resting on the iron railing. This was when the city was the most promising, and when I remembered why people moved here.
 
It didn't seem like such a trap, then;
when you were looking at it from above, looking down on the glitz, glamour, and fame,
New York really did seem like paradise.
 
For some reason, my mind drifted to George.
He loved watching the sun set from the balcony-
sometimes he would disappear from bed in the middle of the night and I would find him sitting cross-legged on the balcony with a bowl of ice cream, watching the city with neverending awe.
 
I sighed a very nostalgic sigh,
and realized I was smiling.
 
George and his band were traveling,
and we had parted on ambiguous terms.
It was clear that we were not together,
the ambiguous part was whether we ever would be again.
 
~~ flashback~~
 
It was July-
hot, hot, July,
and I was in a crop top and jean shorts,
licking the ice cream off of the cone as it spilled over the edges.
 
George's hands wrapped around my waist,
and he nuzzled his face into my neck.
 
"Stop, loser," I giggled, "It's too hot."
 
"You are obnoxiously covered in sweat," he said with a chuckle, and I smashed my ice cream cone into his nose.
 
He backed up, surprised, and laughed-
mint chocolate chip ice cream dripping down his face,
and his eyes wearing an amused sort of annoyed.
 
I stood on my tip toes and licked some of it off-
"Tastes better this way,"
I joked.
 
He grabbed my waist and squished his face against mine,
getting ice cream on my face,
and in my hair.
 
And we were both giggling-
screaming, and chasing each other around,
into the house, and the kitchen,
where were attempted to wash it off before getting into a water fight.
 
I slid on the water and fell,
and he tried to catch me,
but ended up falling on top of me,
almost crushing me with his weight-
but we both laughed.
 
"I love you," he said sweetly.
 
~~ flash forward ~~
 
It was a bit chilly,
I had a cardigan wrapped tightly around my waist.
 
I had stood, and was leaning on the railing,
trying to smell the pretzels below,
when I felt a pair of hands on my hips.
 
I gasped and turned sharply,
being overcome with an eerie nostalgia.
 
"What the hell?"
I was greeted by Oliver's surprised eyes,
and an amused smirk.
 
I shook my head,
"Sorry, it was just, when you touched me, I thought-"
 
He was staring at me like a crazy person,
and I was suddenly overcome with embarrassment-
I shook my head again-
"Nevermind."
 
His eyes studied me for a minute- but not with love, or hope,
with utter curiosity, perhaps even a little fear.
 
"Not going soft, are you?"
 
"Not at all," I said indignantly,
"I don't want to be loved."
 
"Good," he said, still smirking,
closing in and kissing me with a kind of raw passion-
his hands were immediately on my skin,
and we were almost immediately up in my room-
a trail of clothes littered on the floor behind us.
 
He wasn't a cuddler, either,
he was always up, cracking jokes and doing something else-
always so fast I barely had time to blink before he was gone.
 
This time, exploring my room.
 
His finger ran over my record player,
and he examined my book collection-
making remarks like-
'You've got a lot of Palahniuk'
and 'Of course you'd have Hemingway'.
 
I sat and watched him as he explored the physical representation of my soul,
and made his remarks.
 
And then, I got up to get ready for Robert's party.
 
I put on a typical paisley dress and sandals, and braided my hair into a bun. At some point during this process, Oliver had left.
 
He had said something that sounded like
“see you later”-
but I wasn’t sure.
 
I looked at my reflection in the mirror,
and saw in it a new face- younger, and happier,
she was dancing with her nanny and her brother,
then she was crying in the corner of the room,
hiding under her duvet, strung out on drugs,
then she was giggling with a moppy-haired british boy on the bed,
and then she was gossiping with her best friend,
listening to music with her brother-
and, finally, she was looking at herself in the mirror.
 
Oh- how so much had happened,
and in such a short time.
I wondered if there was a such thing as living too much.
 
Alex was howling for me to come down, aching to go to the party- more like, aching for a place to get drunk.
 
He had run into Robert on a street corner- and Rob,
being the prick that he is-
had invited Alex hoping he would stir up some good drama for his birthday celebration.
 
Alex was going to spite him,
and to (try) and stay drama free.
 
I bought Rob 5 of Louis Vuitton’s $68 condoms,
and wrapped them nicely with a bow in a box that looked like it contained a nice watch.
I smirked to myself as I picked it up-
Because some things never change.
 
Electricity was flowing from head to head as we walked up to the party, and the queue of people who would be trying all night to get in and get a glimpse of “how the other half lives”.
 
Rob had two strong body guards out front, blocking too many people from getting inside, and they each had a list of people who were to be admitted regardless of how many people were already inside.
 
Even though they’d been waiting for an hour already, the people in line didn’t seem to care. They were all buzzing with new gossip-
The Princess of Monaco,
The Queen of New York City,
and her new “man”.
 
I heard two girls in black sequin dresses talking about it,
and I walked over casually,
tapping one of them on the shoulder.
 
“Pardon, but what are you talking about?”
 
Her eyes widened, then she shrugged, looking back and forth between Alex and I, and answering in a cool voice-
“Just talking about Cam. She arrived with some guy, we’re trying to figure out who it is.”
 
“Thomas-“ I said to myself.
 
“What did you say?” The girl asked,
but I shook my head.
 
“Nothing,” I said simply,
“Nevermind. Thank you guys.”
 
Nate and I had talked about Cam’s love life, and he had determined that he had found her the perfect man. All I knew was that his name was Thomas. But if they had come here together, maybe there really was something there….
 
I looked at Alex, who was lost in thought,
and gave the two girls one last charming smile,
before pulling him toward the door.
 
“You okay, Al?”
 
He looked over with a shrug-
“Thomas. What a pansy name.”
 
The party was typical Robert- big decorations, half naked girls, loud music, and plenty of booze. Everybody was already dancing when I walked in with Alex, and I immediately went to look for the birthday boy himself.
 
I handed him the box, and he raised an eyebrow-
in return handing me a glass that contained a green liquid,
which tasted kind of like rubbing alcohol and skittles.
 
I downed the entire glass,
and looked at him expectantly-
“Well, aren’t you going to open it?”
 
He handed his gift to one of the passing waiters, and told him to put it on the table with the others, and then shook his head-
“A proper host does not open gifts in the middle of his own party. It’s tacky.”
 
“Ah, and you are never tacky,”
I teased.
 
I asked about Lizzie-
and he got eerily quiet,
changing the subject to George-
where I, also, stopped talking.
 
He grabbed two more glasses of the green liquid-
And handed one to me-
“To love lost and crazy nights,”
he growled.
 
“To crazy nights,” I said,
hitting my glass against his,
and drinking it all once again.
 
He put a hand on my waist-
I was used to it, honestly.
Rob was always like that.
 
I spotted Oliver in the corner,
looking at me with an expression I couldn’t read-
it looked like…. anger?
 
“Elena, it is rude not to respond when someone talks to you, you know,” I heard Rob say, and I turned my attention back to him, “Especially when that someone is celebrating their birthday.”
 
“I’m sorry, Rob,” I said,
“I was just distracted.”
 
“Do you like the party?”
He looked around the room with a look of pride in his eyes.
 
The only time I ever saw Rob looking particularly proud was when he had thrown a killer party-
I almost pitied him for that.
I took a look around again-
And wondered how Rob could throw such a trashy event, but coat it in pure class and glamour.
I figured that only Rob could do that.
 
“It’s spectacular,” I said, “You always throw the best parties.”
 
He looked proud again-
until his expression fell to annoyance,
and I noticed a third had joined our party.
 
“Happy birthday, Rob,” Cam said.
 
He mumbled,
And disappeared-
And I watched him go with raised eyebrows,
And then looked at the princess with a smile.
 
We talked for a moment-
Until I noticed Oliver casually talking to a girl on the opposite side of the room.
I was okay with that- wasn’t I?-
I had to be.
 
I wasn’t attached,
I was free.
 
My heart was like the wind,
and my affections were blown across the room-
no one could contain them.
 
Cam was eyeing me curiously,
and I looked at her like a new acquaintance,
begging for the easy, flowing conversation we used to have to come back. I hoped that somehow we’d be best friends again,
like it would happen overnight.
 
I was starting to think I was hoping too much.
 
She was getting ready to run again-
but not before she invited me to the MET Ball with her.
I smiled and accepted-
Thinking that maybe that little slice of normalcy could salvage a relationship that had become anything but that.
 
After she left, I did the “routine” socializing,
Dancing with Nate, fleeting conversation with Ashley, the normal stuff.
Then, I went in search of more green elixir,
and found myself confronted by a surprising face.
 
“Can we talk?”
Oliver said.
 
I looked around, then nodded,
and showed him to a place in Robert’s house that I was certain no one from the party would find-
one that I had found when we used to date.
 
“We can’t sneak off in public, Oliver,” I said seriously,
“What if people-“
 
“Shut the /fu.ck/ up, Elena,” he said angrily,
and I was taken aback by his sudden temper-
but the smell of alcohol on his breath explained his rash actions.
 
“So, you and Rob, huh?” He continued,
“You’ve been seeing him at the same time?”
 
“That’s ludicrous,” I said,
“He’s one of my oldest friends.”
 
“Yeah, that’s definitely what it looked like,” he spat,
“Just /friends/.”
 
I rolled my eyes,
for a moment almost laughing-
about how it was either screaming,
or fu.cking.
There was no middle ground.
 
“I’m not going to apologize, Oliver,” I said simply,
“I didn’t do anything wrong.”
 
He nodded, staring at something in the corner of the room-
and I studied him with curious eyes.
 
“You’re right,” he said, almost smiling,
“I’m sorry, I’m really drunk.”
 
I let myself laugh, and rolled my eyes,
“Yeah, I can tell. Take a cold shower and go to bed. We’ll talk in the morning, yeah?”
 
He nodded, smiled,
and left the room with a wink.
 
I stayed for a moment-
looking at the small den that was only accessible to those who knew it was there-
Rob’s laboratory of secrets.
 
I always thought that your bedroom was the physical representation of your soul, but Rob’s bedroom was luxurious, and plain. But here was his soul- pictures of him and Rob, him and Cam, even some of him and I.
 
Everything was deep maroon and intimate, his book collection lined the walls. There was one, single, velvet chair in the middle of the room, surrounded by two dark, oak tables. And on the middle of one table there was a box of cigars.
 
I sat on the arm of the chair for a minute and took a deep breath-
Picking up the silver frame of the one of the pictures.
It was a snapshot from our Monroe graduation- Cam, Nate, Rob, and I-
Throwing our caps, arms slung over each other,
Laughing.
 
I smiled and put the photo back where I had found it,
then smoothed out my dress and returned to the party.
 
Alex had gotten very drunk and was singing loudly with a boy I didn’t know-
so I led him through the crowd and home,
where he collapsed onto the couch.
 
I grabbed a blanket and went out onto the balcony, sitting
And staring at the moon-
Until I fell asleep to the sound of car horns
and excited voices from below.
 
May 6th-
 
“round here they sing broken hymns
their prayers flow better when they're soaked in gin
the amp's dusty and sits in the corner
by a bartender that'll pickpocket your heart
and a jukebox that'll steal your quarter
bartender, please give me a confession”
 
“Congratulations, Miss Rivera,” a warm voice said from the other end of the phone,
“We’ve decided to offer you a position as a weekly columnist for the New York Times.”
 
Alex was looking at me expectantly,
Because of the shrill shriek I had let out when I looked at the caller ID,
And the way I was dancing as I talked.
 
“What?!”
 
The voice laughed-
“I am Margaret Rhodes, personal assistant to Styles editor Stuart Emmrich. We came across your blog, and in the interest of getting a younger readership, have decided to offer you a position as a columnist on Wednesdays and Sundays in the Styles section.”
 
My mouth dropped, and Alex grinned,
Still wondering what was happening.
 
“Yes!” I said eagerly, “Yes, yes, yes!”
 
She gave me the details about work, and deadlines, and told me to be present for a meeting the next day at 10.
 
And when I told Alex the news, he spun me around and declared that we’d watch all of Sex and the City before I became the next Carrie Bradshaw.
 
I was going to be a published writer.
I was going to be a published writer-
and I was going to a fancy party with my best friend.
 
My bad mood was lifted.
 
I immediately picked up the phone to call Cam,
but decided to wait, because telling her in person seemed sweeter,
and I would see her at the ball later.
 
And so I ran up to my room to put on the dress that Cam made me buy-
With bold cut outs, and a slit almost all the way up the leg,
and I tried to dress like someone with a published fashion column would dress.
 
I waited outside of our meeting place for 45 minutes,
before I concluded that Cam wasn’t going to show up.
 
I was angry, at first-
Angry simply because I wanted to be angry.
Because, for some reason, I wanted to have a reason to be pitied,
To live in the shadows.
 
But then, with one idiot reporter,
I realized-
“Elena! Elena Rivera!”
He screamed, and I was swarmed,
Suddenly feeling what Cam felt every time she walked outside,
I raised a hand to cover my eyes,
Which were being blinded by the flashes.
 
“How is Cam reacting to her father’s murder?”
“Where’s Cam now?”
“Is it true the Princess is suicidal?”
 
“No comment,” I mumbled.
 
The questions didn’t stop, and neither did the exponential growth of reporters. I felt hot, and sticky, and I wanted to get out and call Cam.
 
I didn’t know what happened-
but I knew she was in trouble,
and I knew I had to be there.
 
I shook my head, feeling anxious-
“Please,” I said, “No comment.”
 
“Did you ever meet Mr. DiVello?”
“Are Alex and Cameron back together?”
 
It was finally clear: Cameron’s father was murdered.
 
I felt my heart shatter for Cam-
Cam who was constantly standing on a ledge and looking for a reason to fall.
 
I didn’t say anything,
I just stared, and tried to sort out my thoughts,
in the middle of a hurricane of reporters and superficial questions,
and in the middle of a tragedy.
 
“I have to go,” I said, finally.
 
I took a step forward, but there was a wall of bodies,
Still trying to find out more about my best friend’s personal life-
Which I didn’t know anything about, anyway.
 
I was starting to panic-
Thinking that maybe I wasn’t ready to be a columnist, and be cool under pressure,
And answer questions with class and glamour-
and maybe I didn’t know Cam at all anymore,
and never would.
 
And I wondered why these reporters weren’t getting the hint that I wasn’t going to talk-
And if I did, I wouldn’t say what they wanted.
 
“That’s enough!” A strong voice said,
grabbing me firmly by the arm and pulling me through the wall.
 
He led me quickly down the street before I realized it was Robert Samuels-
who escorted me to a sleek, black limo.
 
“Rob-“
 
“Your brother called. He told me Cam was at the penthouse, and you needed to hurry back. How he got my number I’ll never know…..”
 
I started to climb into the car before I noticed Robert wasn’t moving, and I got back out to face him again-
“Aren’t you coming?”
 
He shook his head, looking at the crowd, the ground,
Anywhere but me-
“No. Cam needs you. So, get moving, Elles.”
 
I hugged him tight, and got quickly in the car,
Which sped through the New York traffic,
but felt so slow.
 
I called Cam four times-
each time screaming into her voicemail message.
 
I needed to hear her voice,
something to affirm she was, at least, sane enough to form a sentence.
 
I obnoxiously rapped the elevator button several times, hoping that somehow it would make the elevator come quicker.
 
But, Cam wasn’t in the penthouse anymore.
 
The only thing there was Alex, drinking a Blue Moon on the balcony, looking out over the city with tears in his eyes that he didn’t even try to hide.
 
“You look like hell,” he said, handing me a beer.
 
I smirked, and shook my head sadly-
"You, too."
 
“She’s gone?” I asked,
thinking about the eerie quiet that surrounded us.
 
He nodded,
and look back at the traffic.
 
His thoughts were racing,
I could tell.
 
I could tell that he would jump off the balcony and into the traffic if somehow his sacrifice could make Cam smile;
and I knew I would follow him.
 
I tried to call Cam again,
no answer.
 
I sighed, looking at our playground-
Our paradise.
 
We all had our lives here,
and we played our games,
and had our time in the spotlight,
and the shadows, and among friends,
and enemies.
 
Perhaps there is a such thing
As living too much.
 
-xx, e
 
THANKS FOR READING
I hope you enjoy it!!

Okay! I actually cared about this story!
So I hope this one is better than before!
 
I mentioned @vampire-weakend and @little-red
C:
 
and the song is
4/ 21;
 
“I’ve decided I’m done with men,” I sighed into an iced chai latte.
 
Effie laughed and looked up from her phone with a cynical smile, “Goin for a lil lez action?”
 
I rolled my eyes, “Fu.ck off.”
 
She shrugged and turned back to her phone, “What? I support you!”
 
“You know what I mean,” I said.
 
She was smiling into her phone, and I was trying to figure out the millions of thoughts that ran through my mind. I was officially “secret hookup buddies” with Oliver Dumont. It felt good to be secretive, and to actually have a good secret to keep.
 
But on the other hand, the aching desire to “girl talk” was eating at my insides. I pried for every detail about Effie’s life she would spare me. I craved whispers over coffee and giggles in the back of classrooms. But, Effie’s willingness to feed my desire for gossip was running short.
 
“Christ, Elle,” she said, “Keep asking me all these damn questions and I’m going to start suspecting that you’re Gossip Girl.”
 
“At least then I’d have a successful blog.”
 
I was in a particularly whiny mood- and it seemed like all around me fame was befalling my friends and leaving me with a half-way successful blog and a lot of conflicting dreams.
 
“Feeling whiny today, Elles?”
 
I hit my chai on the table and sighed, “First we were all supposed to be obsessed with One Direction. Now we’re all supposed to be models or princesses or actresses…. It’s driving me nuts. I miss the days when we were all supposed to…. Go get sushi at Nano or wear fu.cking red on Thursday, I dunno….”
 
She laughed and shook her head, putting her phone on the table and finally making eye contact. Her expression was distant yet amused, and she was wearing a smirk like even Alex Rivera couldn’t pull off.
“Who cares, Elles? Just do you.”
 
“Life advice from Effie Dumont and Hallmark.”
 
My phone buzzed, and I looked to see a text from a boy who I had codenamed “TM” (for Tuxedo Mask, of course.) The text contained a simple smily face, meaning Oliver was free, and wanted to meet up.
 
“Seriously though, Elles,” Effie continued, “Don’t try to force some weirdo fame trip. You’ll just end up somewhere addicted to hard drugs….”
 
I gave her a knowing look, and she looked awkwardly back at her phone, muttering a quite “oh, sorry….”
 
I could see Ashley Hartman on the cover of Vogue right next to Cameron DiVello on the cover of People and Effie Dumont in NYLON…. And Elena Rivera, writing a blog for a couple thousand people. I sighed and said, “I guess you’re right. How are things with you and Ashley?”
 
“You know as well as I do.”
 
I gave her a knowing smile, thinking of my own “best friend” who I hadn’t heard from in weeks. She wasn’t paying me any mind, she was looking intently at the table, and I knew I wouldn’t get anything else out of her.
 
“Well, I’ve got to go,” I said suddenly, and she sharply looked up from her trance and said, “Oh, uh, okay….”
 
We parted ways, and I watched her disappear down the street before I stalked off in the direction of Oliver’s place.
 
I made sure no one was following me,
and there were no cameras-
a force of habit, I suppose.
 
He was sitting on the balcony smoking a cigarette when I opened the door, and looked up with a small smile when he saw me.
 
“I knew you’d come.”
 
I rolled my eyes, but I was smiling, “Don’t flatter yourself.”
 
“No, you do that for me.”
 
Even after 4 months of really “knowing” him, Oliver Dumont was still one of the worst people I had ever met. But maybe bad was what I needed, after so long with the most kind and gentle soul on the planet. Maybe I needed a taste of something dangerous, right?
 
He patted his thigh, beckoning me forward, and I straddled him. He held his cigarette to my lips and I took a drag as he unbuttoned the buttons on my shirt and pulled it over my shoulders.
 
“All of New York is watching,” I said as I observed the cars and people passing below us.
 

He smiled and kissed me, “Then let’s give them a show.”
 
I flicked the cigarette off the balcony and wrapped my hands around his neck, kissing him deeply.
 
The funny thing about Oliver Dumont was that he looked so angelic,
but he tasted so wrong,
and felt so hot,
and his personality was the worst,
that I had absolutely no idea how to feel about him.
 
And I had no one to help me figure that out,
so I kept going back.
 
My fingers played with his belt, and he ran his hands down my back and hips, pulling me closer as his lips traced my jaw.
 
I was drowning in my indiscretions- yet the excitement of it overcame the fear of danger or heartbreak.
 
We didn’t get along. Although we had so much in common, our personalities clashed, and our relationship was tumultuous at best. But we had really, really good sex.
 
And that was just what I wanted- needed-
for now, at least.
 
“So, uh, d’you want a sandwich or something?” He asked as he buttoned his shirt back, and threw me mine.
 
“And alas Oliver Dumont has proven that chivalry is not dead!”
 
He smirked and shook his head, “The offer’s on the table.”
 
“I didn’t know we’d progressed from strictly sex to sex and food, I am honored.”
 
Before he could retort, my phone rang,
and I opened it to find a text from, surprisingly, my brother-
‘Home. Now. Cam’s coming over too. You know what that means.’
 
I clicked my phone locked with a sigh, and Oliver was looking at me with raised eyebrows, “Let me guess, chaos has broken loose at Bendell’s and you’re needed to help pick out Cam’s homecoming dress.”
 
“If you asked me three years ago, yes. But we’re grown ups now.”
 
“Prom dress, then?”
 
“As.shole.”
He walked me to the door and, to my surprise, bid me adieu with one soft, lingering kiss that played on my lips even after I had turned and walked down the hallway. It was the kind of kiss that guaranteed I would be back.
 
I sighed as I boarded the elevator.
 
I always felt a kind of hope when I boarded that elevator.
I didn’t /like/ Oliver.
There was no way, absolutely no way.
 
But I always watched the lights move on the buttons with a smile on my face, and absent-mindedly bumped into the people on the elevator beside me as I entered and exited.
 
Back at the penthouse, Alex was slumped in his favorite black, leather chair and staring at the wall, no doubt rehearsing something to say. A small bottle of Fire Whisky was sitting beside him.
 
My “turn and run” complex was activated.
 
“What’s this about?” I said as I sat on the couch across the room.
 
“It’s been building up for a while, Elles, you know that. Cam’s just up and left us. That’s pretty messed up, right? And she’s in Manhattan for a bit, so I figured-“
 
I didn’t hear the rest of the sentence, because I realized that I had absolutely no idea that Cameron DiVello was in Manhattan.
 
I wished I was back in the hazy smokestack that was yesterday night- a yearly celebration for Alex and I- but the anger I felt that I hadn’t the faintest that Cam was in the city, or even how long she’d been there, was boiling deep inside of me. I realized that maybe this intervention was exactly what we needed.
 
Alex and I sat in silence until the elevator dinged, and we heard heels rapping on the ground. Finally, she rounded the corner and met the stony gaze of two Riveras.
 
“Sit down, Cammie,” Alex said,
and he stood as she sat down.
 
“We’re worried about you,” he began, “You’re never around anymore. You’ve changed, and- wait, Cam what the hell happened to your leg?”
 
She looked down at her leg as if surprised, “It’s fine.”
 
“/What happened/.” Alex was getting his over-protective, angry face on. I instinctively reached out for Cam’s hand, but realized it was folded neatly on her lap. She had come prepared to fight.
 
“I had an accident.”
 
“An accident, huh?” Alex said, his face turning red with the words he wanted to say that had lost themselves on the way out of his mouth, “Yeah some kind of accident.”
 
“/What/ is that supposed to mean?”
 
“I think what Alex means to say is that we’re worried, Cams,” I said softly, “We love you, and…. I mean, you didn’t even tell me you were in Manhattan.”
 
I tried to hide my heartbreak,
but saying it out loud and watching as she turned her gaze on me made it more real than ever.
I don’t know why I expected a call from her.
I don’t know why I expected it all just fall back into place.
 
“I was going to,” she said simply.
 
“We haven’t talked in ages, Cam.”
 
“I’ve been busy.”
 
“Cammie, you’re ignoring it all!” Alex said, sitting frantically on the chair and rubbing his hands on his thighs like he did when he was nervous, “You’re ignoring all of that pain and hoping it’ll just all go away but it won’t and it doesn’t have to be that way and /we can help/.”
 
“We want to,” I added.
 
“I’m not ignoring anything,” she said indignantly.
 
“You can’t hide anything from us, Cam,” I said.
 
She was playing with her fingers in her lap, smirking at nothing in particular, and she looked at us with a nostalgic expression, like we were the living embodiment of the past that she had left behind.
 
“You can’t hide your chain smoking, your impulsivity, your fragility caked behind layers upon layers of new clothes and makeup and haircuts,” Alex said bitterly.
 
She looked up at him with her mouth slightly dropped, and for a moment I found myself stunned at his astute observation, and the amount of thought that he had poured into his arguments. I got an uncomfortable tingle.
 
“We miss you, Cams,” I said warmly, in a voice that was something like a plea.
 
She smiled, finally, and said-
“I miss you guys, too.”
 
Cam stayed until Ashley called her for dinner,
then left after giving us a brief hug and promising to see us again soon.
 
Alex and I shared a doubtful gaze at that,
but smiled and accepted her uncommon warmth.
 
When she left, Alex took a long swig of his whiskey and said, “That could have gone worse.”
 
“What are you doing, Al?”
 
He looked at me with a million questions in his eyes, but knew that I didn’t want to know the answers to any of them. His gaze hit the floor quickly.
 
“You can’t be serious.”
 
He took another long drink,
and smiled a bit,
then shook his head,
“Nah, I’m never serious.”
 
I think I heard him mutter something, lowly under his breath,
Something that sounded like-
“Not anymore.”
 

- xx, e
 
HOPE YA LIKED IT
I FINALLY WROTE SOMETHING

remember the weekend club??
i do!
and i love it!
so, here is nicole for ya!
 
introducing sam!
(i have recently become obsessed with supernatural so i think i need to acknowledge that and, therefore, jared padalecki is the new character.)
 
i also used that 8 tracks thing for the first time!
what an exciting day!
 
http://8tracks.com/emgeemtee/we-re-good-at-being-troubled
 
the tracks for this story are:
 
spirits- jamie woon
ifhy- tyler, the creator
o death- jen titus
from my own true love (lost at sea) - the decemberists covered by some dude
the wave- miike snow
sail- awolnation
bonfire- childish gambino
something good- alt-j
 
yip!
 
okay.
enjoy?
 
----
 

Friday April 5th;
 
I don’t remember much about my family other than the screaming, and the weekly trips to Banshee’s Ice Cream Palace in which I always got an unsatisfactory strawberry waffle cone, or sometimes a chunky milkshake. The actual familial memories got erased somewhere between my discovery of cannabis and my decision to abandon Liverpool for Dublin, and my father’s declaration that I was forever cut off from any family affairs.
 
I stopped thinking about them the first time I paid my own rent, but it took me a couple more months to fully understand the gravity of the fact that I was now a free agent.
 
And even now I occasionally hovered over the “mom”, “dad”, and “Dan” buttons on my mobile.
 
I traced my thumb on the smooth surface of the rock that I palmed in my hand and scanned the sun as it sank slowly into the water. For a moment I closed my eyes and felt the salty spray hit my cheeks, then skipped the rock four times over the waves until it, too, disappeared beneath the surface.
 
I left my phone back in the bungalow so for a moment I could escape from the stress of twitter and text messages and facebook and for a moment feel the serenity of my soul against nature.
 
I remembered my days as a yoga instructor, and looked around to be sure the beach was clear before I stripped down to my underwear and stretched for what seemed like the first time in months.
 
I felt a shock running down my back, starting at the top of my neck and traveling down my spine. It was freezing, but I could feel tiny bits of sweat, and my body was steaming.
 
I could feel the beginnings of a smile,
almost a carefree, light one-
until I heard a crunching stick, and stood to find Zane appearing on the beach.
 
“You’re nuts,” he said simply.
 
I felt my serenity crash and skip like my rock against the surface of the water and slip somewhere deep into a black nothingness.
 
“Zane,” I said, “Oh.”
 
I looked back at the sinking sun but found it mostly drowned. I sighed and looked at the pile of clothes that I’d thrown onto the sand, and realized how cold I was. I wrapped myself in my arms and looked down, surprised at my own goose bumps.
 
Zane wrapped his arms around me, and I felt him kiss the side of my head.
 
“Zane,” My voice was a soft whimper, although I tried to make it a fierce growl, “You have a girlfriend, and a baby on the way….”
 
He looked at me with those deep, brown, eyes, and I could see my reflection in the tears that were welling up inside of them. “Nicole I wish that weren’t true every single day.”
 
“What?”
 
He shook his head, “I love you. I f.ucking love and you and I will always love you and- /fu.ck…..”
 
“You’re stoned.”
 
He shook his head.
 
“You’re drunk.”
 
He shook his head.
 
“You’re lying.”
 
And this time he shook his head with this dam.n smile on his face that he wore because he knew he had me exactly where he wanted me.
 
I had done a lot of things.
I had done a lot of drugs, and had a lot of sex, and stolen a lot of things.
But never once had I been a mistress-
not until I gripped the side of Zane’s head and pulled him into me.
 
His hands found the places of my body that they had a million times before, but this time it was laced with a secrecy that was as intriguing as it was shameful.
 
I didn’t talk much after, or stick around for long. Only long enough to shake my head and leave, not long enough to hear whatever he said, only long enough to hear a long, high pitched screaming in my own ears.
 
There was a baby on the way.
 
I scratched my arm lightly, then enough to feel an old wound open again. That had happened many times on that particular night.
 
I got home and checked my phone, seeing 3 missed calls all from the same source. And I ignored them all, feeling slightly separated from it all.
 
I met Kat and Alice at the bar, some nameless, faceless joint with wooden walls and a weird statue of a dragon.
 
I could feel my secret on my tongue, burning it hotter than any of the shots we took, until suddenly I heard it coming out of my mouth: “I had sex with Zane.”
 
They looked at each other with eyes I couldn’t read, and didn’t want to. And I felt the real, physical repercussions of living in a world of skipped rocks and salty affairs.
 
“Nic….” Kat began, and trailed off.
 
“How do you feel?” Alice asked, studying me with a harsh blankness.
 
“Awful.”
 
“Do you love him?” Kat said in her small, innocent murmur. If I didn’t know her so well, I wouldn’t have known what she said. I learned how to listen to her.
 
“Not as much as I hate him.”
 
I could see nothing but her face, his girlfriend, and that of the child. And I felt my love for Zane slowly withering away. I felt that he was an enemy. I was hyperventilating, shaking slightly, and my hands seemed foreign.
 
I drank too much.
I always drank too much,
but especially when there was something I longed to forget.
 
“Nic we’ve got to get you home,” I heard Kat say softly.
 
“No!” I protested, shrugging away from her grip, “I don’t want to go!”
 
“Nicole, you’re drunk,” she said, and her small, innocent voice sounded tired and angry. Maybe tired of taking care of me while I got too drunk to stand and whined about my life. Maybe she was tired of my problems because she had plenty of her own.
 
I pulled away from her grip and disappeared into the crowd, and I don’t think she stepped more than three feet before she gave up trying to find me.
 
I went back to the beach in a desperate search for the serenity that I had somehow managed to feel hours before.
 
My step was clouded with stumbles and I could already feel the headache that I knew I’d have the next morning. Yet, I kept walking toward the beach, and I could already hear the waves crashing onto the rocks.
 
The water had finally lost its icy sting and begun to feel slightly like bathwater. Before I knew it I had waded into my ankles. There was seaweed rubbing on my shins, or at least I hoped it was seaweed, and the occasional rock sent a sharp pain through my foot as I walked deeper in.
 
It seemed like the world broke off. For a moment I figured that I had stepped off the side of the universe and was floating through space. In reality, I had been walking on a sandbar, and it had ended, leaving me floating in water twenty feet deep.
 
I noticed as I struggled to find my footing, and felt nothing but the sharp coldness of the deeper water. I tried to scream, but the water in my mouth prevented anything above a low gurgle, and my muscles for a moment flailed.
 
I struggled for a moment, feeling my lungs constrict and feel small. Each time I tried to breathe, I was greeted with a new batch of salty water and a new burning in the back of my throat.
 
I was out of ideas, and I had suddenly forgotten how to swim. The water gripped my arms and pulled hard, and I felt lost.
 
For a reason I couldn’t explain, I held my breath until I started to feel dizzy. I thought that dizziness was my salvation and that I was floating back to shore.
 
I woke up with a stranger’s mouth on mine, breathing breath into my lungs and pounding his strong hands on my chest. A mouthful of salt was ejected from my mouth onto the sand and I gasped for breath before collapsing back onto the sand.
 
My vision was blurry, but came back in time to see a crowd of people running toward me with flashlights that looked like the light that I heard I would only see as I died.
 
“Where’d he go?” I asked breathlessly.
 
I looked around, but my eyes hadn’t refocused yet, and all of the faces looked the same.
 
I wrapped my fingers around the fabric of someone’s shirt and said it again, “Where’d he go?”
 
“Who?” The voice responded.
 
“The guy-“
 
“No one was here, Nic.”
 
I nodded, and felt myself sinking into a deep sleep as I was carried somewhere along a dark path through the woods.
 

Saturday April 6th;
 
I woke up in the Medical Cabin, New Temple’s half-as.sed attempt at a hospital complete with a box of band-aids and a nurse who I’m pretty sure barely passed Biology.
 
I had a bandage on my eyebrow and was wrapped in a shock blanket, and there were two Advil in a paper cup. I smiled a bit as I downed them and tried to stand too quickly, being instantly saddled with the worst kind of vertigo.
 
“Hey, Mindy,” I said as I walked into the next room, “What happened last night?”
 
“You were drunk as fu.ck and fell in the water,” she said without looking up, “Lucky for you, you somehow managed to roll back to the shore or you’d be seaweed right now.”
 
I stalled for a moment, remembering a figure slowly replacing my life, and shook my head. “Are you sure no one was there?”
 
“Pretty darn.”
 
“Are you sure no one saw anyone?”
 
She turned in her chair and looked at me with confused eyes, laced with concern. “No, Nic,” she said, “No one was there. You okay?”
 
“Yeah,” I nodded slowly, “Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks again for the Advil and the bandage.” I exited through the wooden door to find George and Zane sitting on the railing out front.
 
“’Ere she is,” George said with a cheeky smile, putting an arm around me and smiling.
 
I attempted a smile and put an arm around his waist, “Safe and sound!”
 
“Kat was worried about ye,” he said. I could read his lie in his eyes, but I ignored it. A part of me wished I was naïve enough to believe that Kat really was worried.
 
“I bet she was.”
 
There was a tense, awkward silence lingering in the air. George and I shared a look, and I was certain that he knew about my mistake with Zane, and I tried to silently beg him not to leave us alone.
 
“I’m gonna go find Kitty and tell ‘er you’re alright,” he said, giving me another one-armmed hug, “No more swimmin’, eh?”
 
I offered him a bitter smile as he left.
 
I didn’t look at him for a moment. I focused instead on his hand, which was making a fist, and then the ground. Anything other than his eyes, which now looked only like betrayal, and only like a bad memory.
 
“I’m sorry, Nic,” he said.
 
I shrugged, “It’s fine.”
 
“I shouldn’t have-“
 
“Me, too.”
 
“Nicole.”
 
“Bye, Zane.”
 
He reached for me, but I pulled my hand away sharply. And I finally looked into his eyes and said it again, sternly, like it was the only thing I was sure about: “Bye, Zane. And don’t fu.cking follow me.”
 
I passed his blonde girlfriend in the street, and she looked at me without the trace of a smile on her face. I didn’t know if it was because she knew what happened or because Zane had spent nearly the entire night making sure I was okay, but I figured she would be pleased at the fact that my feelings for Zane had all but left.
 
I smiled at her as I passed.
 
I slept for a big portion of the day, recovering from the burning in my throat and getting used to the feeling of being alive again. I felt sort of reborn.
 
There’s something strange about looking down at yourself as you drown, like you’re floating away somewhere new, and feeling absolutely terrified. My brother had once told me that drowning was the most peaceful way to die, and your body accepts it and cradles you to sleep.
 
I wished I could call him and tell him how wrong he was, because it wasn’t until I was drowning that I began clinging to life.
 

There was a bonfire at one of the beaches tonight to celebrate the coming of spring. Kat had been down there decorating all day. I think she had hung up stand lights on the trees and put down pillows for everyone to sit on.
 
The sun was getting ready to set, and made the air quite chilly, so I put on shorts, a tank top, and a sweater before going down to meet the crowd.
 
The first thing I noticed was that Kat was on shrooms. And the second, was the absence of Zane and his girlfriend.
 
I walked over to Kat and nudged her playfully, “It looks really nice.”
 
Her eyes widened when she was me, and she looked awkwardly at the ground. “Yeah? Wow, cool. Yeah, wow. I’m…. glad you like it.”
 
I nodded, “I do.”
 
She kept putting her hair behind her ear and taking it out again, smiling faintly, “Are, uh, are you okay? I heard about what happened….”
 
“Peachy keen.” I said with a wink.
 
She nodded, “Good, yeah, wow.”
 
Someone screamed, and a bottle broke in the background. We both looked over to see what happened, but the culprit had disappeared into the woods. I noticed a guy staring at me through the fire, but he looked away sharply when we made eye contact, turning to the conversation beside him.
 
“I’m sorry, Nic,” Kat said in a small voice.
 
I shook my head, “There’s nothing to be sorry about, Kitty.”
 
She grinned and grabbed my hand, dancing to an invisible beat and pulling me along with her.
 
Later in the night, George would give me shrooms and I would paint colors in the sky with my mind, and dance around the fire and hold onto life.
 
There were two new-comers sitting by the fire, talking to a couple locals I’d seen around. One of them had been the guy I made eye contact with earlier, and who I felt like I remembered from long ago, like a distant memory.
 
“Georgie,” I whispered, “Who is that guy?”
 
He looked behind him and shrugged, “I dunno. New. He’s a super cool guy though. Which probably means you shouldn’t go near him, eh?”
 
I laughed and playfully punched him, coming down softly from my high, “I think I know him from somewhere. It’s weird.”
 
He shrugged, “No idea, mate.”
 
I looked over at him again and saw him looking at me, then we both looked quickly away and continued separate lives on opposite sides of the fire.
 
Someone had brought body paint, so we quickly shed our sweaters and painted designs on our skin. There was a guitar player strumming and singing quietly in the background. People passed around beers and shared stories. And meanwhile, the stars looked down on us with a smile.
 
The bonfire had begun to fizzle out, when I finally bumped into the new stranger.
 
“I’m glad to see you’re okay,” he said as he passed me, seemingly on the way to the trash bag, or maybe to grab another beer.
 
I stopped and turned toward him, “Hey, do I know you?”
 
He stopped, too, and smiled, “I don’t think so.”
 
“I’m Nicole.”
 
“Sam.”
 
He had an odd smile on his face, like he was playing a game with me. It fascinated me as much as it annoyed me, and I wanted to know why we were playing in the first place.
 
“You’re new here?”
 
“Yeah, needed an escape. I know a girl who goes here, so… here I am.”
 
“What do you think?”
 
He shrugged, “I don’t know yet.”
 
I nodded quietly, a thousand questions trying to find their way out of my mouth. I felt like I knew him, and how I knew him was sitting on the tip of my tongue, but I couldn’t figure it out.
 
It bothered me.
I don’t like not knowing things.
 
“Why did you want to escape?”
 
“That’s a pretty personal question, don’t you think?” He was still wearing that playful smile.
 
I shrugged, “That’s what we do here. Get personal.”
 
He nodded, “My girlfriend died a month ago.”
 
“Oh.”
 
His smile faded, and the look that replaced it seemed worse. He was distant and far off, now, looking sullenly into the fire.
 
I put a hand on his shoulder,
“I hope you find what you’re looking for here.”
 
He nodded, and smiled faintly.
“I hope I do, too.”
 
“See ya around?”
 
“If you’re lucky,” he shot me a half-as.sed wink,
and attempted a smile, then walked off into the woods with the group of people he’d been talking to.
 
Kat and George called my name as they left, and I followed them to Kat’s bungalow where we stayed up late talking and laughing, then fell asleep in a giant huddle of a million secrets tied together with love.
 
- Nic.
 
thanks for reading!!

Heyoooo!
FINALLY A STORY AMIRITE.
 
(the one we discussed, Alex, will be up next!!
@vampire-weakend )
 
Here is the Page 6 story about Elle's new years!
To go along with the story ;)
 
I hope ya like this story!
I took inspiration from a Perks Of Being A Wallflower scene teehee I hope you catch it!!
 
Here is the story now.
 
OH!
THE SONG
is Tessellate by Alt-J.
 
Okay.
Here goes.
 
OH!
I also mentioned @little-red
----
 

December 20th, 2012;
 
I watched the thin red hand on the clock jog quickly around the wheel of the clock as the thicker black one took the slower route,
and ran through the answers I'd prepared.
 
I tried not to look at the sign that read "Vogue",
I tried not to look at the plethora of pencil skirts and faux animal skins,
but to keep my eyes focused on my own cotton lace pattern that hung loosely off my shorts.
 
I took a deep breath and checked my teeth in the mirror,
then put on (more) chapstick,
and played with my nails.
 
My interview was supposed to begin at 10:15, but it was already 11:22 and the last interviewee was still in the room.
 
I sighed and started playing my answers in my head again-
until a sharp voice called "Miss Elena Rivera!"-
and I was summoned back from my trance and into the real world,
where I suddenly understood what I had been waiting for for the past hour and a half.
 
The woman I was set to talk to had her hair in a tight bun on top of her head, and was wearing a velvet suit with a matching skirt.
 
I almost turned and walked out,
thinking I had the wrong office since last time I checked Vogue was supposed to be fashionable,
but I smiled and confidently strolled in.
 
I extended my hand,
"Hello, my name is Elena Rivera."
 
"You see," she said in a coarse voice, "I already know that. Tell me something I don't know about you."
 
She closed the file that looked like my application and folded her hands on top of it, looking at me with an expectant expression as I fumbled for an answer-
"I, uh- I- I used to be addicted to heroin."
 
Her eyes widened,
and she adjusted her glasses even though they were already perfectly straight-
"What?"
 
Instant regret.
My face flushed and I looked down at my black polished fingernails,
as I repeated my statement in a small voice-
"I was addicted to heroin. Uh- in a gang. A drug gang. Of other people, too- uh, yeah. Wait, uh-“
 
She arched an eyebrow, stuttered a couple times, and readjusted her glasses a second time-
"Oh.”
 
That one word: oh.
My eyes fell to my lap where my manicured thumbs were circling around each other.
 
“I can also speak four languages,” I said in a small voice, as if somehow being multilingual would make up for the fact that I had just openly admitted my involvement in a gang.
 
“How impressive,” she said plainly.
 
The air seemed sucked out of the room and every cell of blood rushed to my cheeks to created a reddish glow. I felt hot and sticky, and the dress I had chosen to wear seemed ridiculous and wrong.
 
To put it plainly: I was not at all “vogue”.
 
After a couple more routine questions, she stood and ushered me out of the room, ignoring my feeble attempt at a handshake. I stood alone in the hallway outside her office for a couple minutes.
 
In a movie, the main character would barge back into the office with a Jeff Winger speech that would knock her glasses off of her face. She would get the job and, somehow, an office employee would hear her heroic feat and she’d get him, too.
 
Instead, I stood for several more minutes looking at the clock that I had watched turn for an hour before my ten minute shot.
 
It all seemed so fake,
It was all pencil skirts and fur.
 
I pulled out my phone to call Cam, but realized that wherever she was, she wouldn’t answer her phone. And if she did, she wouldn’t listen to whatever I told her.
 
As I was leaving, I bumped into a tall man with a red tie and a black jacket, and mumbled an incoherent apology as I turned and practically ran for the elevator.
 
This was not my romantic comedy,
this was not my play.
 
I wanted nothing more than for my brain to leave my head, and for my body to feel light and comfortable: and I knew that there was only one way to achieve that kind of feeling.
 
When I got back to the penthouse, George and Alex were sitting on the couch, laughing about something and sipping Blue Moons. They were always so beautifully poetic: tall and thin, well dressed and polished, sipping expensive beer and talking about whatever it is that two young adult men talk about, with the New York skyline stretching out behind them.
 
George bit his lip when I walked in, and Alex smiled knowingly.
 
“Well, I fuc.ked that one up,” I said with a small, forced laugh, to make it seem like I wasn’t still shaking from the cold glares of the Vogue staff.
 
Alex patted the seat beside him on the couch, and I threw myself into it, resting my head backward so I was staring at the ceiling.
 
“What ‘appened?” George asked quietly.
 
“Sometimes honesty is not the best policy,” I said lowly, then giggled and said, “Especially not when your version of honestly is a tell-all about your friend heroin.”
 
George laughed a bit, and Alex smirked through a clenched jaw.
 
“Maybe I’ll start a fashion blog,” I said simply.
 
“A fashion blog?” Alex said, laughing a little then taking a sip of Blue Moon, “If you want to get into the industry, I don’t think some blog is the way to do it.”
 
“Oh come on, Al, think about it!” I said, sitting up excitedly and facing him, “I’m a good writer, but whatever magazine I want to work for won’t know that right away. But if I’m that super cool fashion icon with a cult following on her blog, they’ll know!”
 
“So you’ve gone from fashion blogger to super cool fashion icon with a cult following in about 10 seconds?”
 
“It’s gonna work,” I said indignantly, “Don’t you think, George?”
 
George looked up suddenly and nodded, “Yeah, whatever Elle said.”
 
“Bias,” Alex huffed.
 
That night I opened my macbook and bought a url: theragtrade.com.
And as I typed my first post, I hoped that this blog would treat me better than the woman who interviewed me at Vogue Magazine.
 
December 31st, 2012;
 
I hadn’t posted anything truly awe-inspiring, but my blog now had a good amount of followers, and I felt more confident taking pictures of people on the street for the “street style” portion.
 
I liked having a camera in my hands, because I liked seeing people’s faces when you asked to take their picture, and then hand them the card with your blog’s url on it and tell them to look out for their photo.
 
On this day, I was walking around the city trying to think of new looks for the new year, something that I figured a fashion blogger would blog about. There was a lot of tired lace and infinity scarves, so after a few hours of walking I sat at a table and wondered whether I was going to see my “best friend” during the New Year.
 
The fact that I hadn’t heard from her in days told me otherwise.
 
Suddenly, I saw the long, tangled hair of someone I thought I recognized. She was tall and thin, and crossing her arms as she walked. I admired her ability to pull off the “all black” look without it washing her out or making her look like a funeral parlor.
 
Maybe I’d blog about it.
 
After a moment of analyzing her, I realized the aching need for girl talk, and the fact that she was almost out of ear shot. “Oi! Dumont!” I said loudly.
 
It felt good to giggle and be giggled at in return, and to talk about how ridiculous our brothers were and silently gossip about or best friends without saying anything out of turn.
 
I realized how alike Effie and I were, and for a moment it freaked me out, but I let my guard down and by the end of the conversation I felt comfortable enough around her that I agreed spend my New Year party-hopping with her.
 
“Meet at Oliver’s, my stuff is there. Around…. 8?”
 
I hesitated, remembering being personally insulted by Oliver Dumont as he drank the alcohol that I provided. “You can just borrow my clothes.”
 
Her eyebrows scrunched together, “What?.... Why would I do that?”
“It’s just…. Oliver….”
 
She laughed and rolled her eyes, “Oh my /God/ you don’t wanna chance running into Oliver? He’s a total prick! And he probably won’t even be there.”
 
I sighed, feeling slightly pathetic, and watching the drops of condensation run down the side of my iced chai. Then, eventually, I nodded and agreed to meet Effie at Oliver’s apartment at 8, which would give me enough time to buy something to wear.
 
I wanted sequins. That was what I wanted. I wanted black, tight sequins lined with answers to the millions of unresolved questions I had. I wanted to call Cam and I wanted to figure out what George and I were, and I wanted to hug my mother again.
 
I realized I had more to do than just buy an outfit for the night.
 
I found my solace in the different fabrics of overpriced clothing factories until I eventually settled on a black, sequined dress with a v neck that barely passed my as.s.
 
Cest la vie.
 
In a city that was growing smaller by the day, I found myself running into an old mirror staring back at me. His eyes were big and afraid, his hands were trembling, and his face was white as a ghost. Immediately I recognized the aches of withdrawal lining his forehead.
 
“Spence?”
 
He looked up, his eyes were surrounded by large, black bags and one of his lips was slightly bloodied.
 
I instinctively put a hand on his shoulder and said, “Holy fu.ck, Spencer, what happened?”
 
He shook his head and mumbled something, then shrugged his shoulders, and then he looked up sharply and squinted into the sun, saying: “You’re not…. Scared… of me?”
 
I felt a sharp turn in my stomach, and for a moment felt like falling to pieces on the pavement, drowning in the fabric of the $900 dress I had just purchased. His eyes were so focused, and so withdrawn at the same time that I almost couldn’t look at them.
 
“No.”
 
He smiled simply, and said, “I’m trying really hard to turn it all around. I’ve got a job and everything! It’s, uh, at this computer place because I was always pretty good with them-“
 
He stopped talking, and looked at his shoes, then up at me again. I was about an inch taller than him, which added to the sense of motherliness that I was feeling. I felt like petting him on the head. But instead, I smiled and said, “I’m really happy to hear that.”
 
“So, uh, does this mean…. We can be friends again?”
 
“Of course,” I said as I pulled him into a dramatic movie hug before I slipped away and smacked my heels against the pavement until I arrived back at the penthouse, where George was playing with his guitar and the ghost of my brother was still lingering in the form of a note about how he was off to Monaco.
 
“You’ll never guess who I ran into!” I said as I sat on the couch next to him.
 
“Who?” He said, barely looking up for the strings as his fingers played a soft tune that almost lulled me to sleep.
 
“Spencer.”
 
His jaw clenched, and his guitar hit the wooden floor with a thud. “I don’t want you around him. I don’t want- I…. Fu.ck, Elle!”
 
“Excuse me?”
 
He looked away, at a distant wall, for a few moments. I was astounded by his declaration, and the small tingle inside of me that told me I should follow it. I am Elena Rivera, and I do not take orders.
 
When he looked back at me, he was greeted by an arched eyebrow.
 
“I don’t want you to get hurt.”
 
“I can take care of myself.”
 
“I don’t want you near him.”
 
“And what authority do you have to tell me what to do and what not to do?”
 
At the end of the day, George and I were good friends with a messed up relationship status. If I still bothered with Facebook, I would check “It’s Complicated.”
 
But at the end of the day, George was not my boyfriend, no matter how much it felt like it.
 
“You’re right,” he said as he sauntered over the pressed the elevator button, then came back to gather his jacket and guitar.
 
I watched him wordlessly, for a moment feeling everything I hated about marriage coming back to me, because my years together with George had drained our ability to fu.ck and make everything better.
 
He was really leaving.
This was real.
And I was doing nothing about it.
 
I wouldn’t do anything about it.
For days, maybe,
I would wait for his apology.
 
And he would be too stubborn to give it to me,
Perhaps he’d be expecting one, too.
 
It was a silent game of chicken.
 
“Happy fookin New Year,” he mumbled as he got in the elevator, and the doors shut.
 
I rung Cameron,
But got a voicemail,
One that I didn’t feel inclined to leave.
 

When I arrived at the Oliver Dumont’s apartment, it took me a few seconds to gather the nerve to knock. And when I did, I wasn’t greeted by Effie, but rather the royal king himself, who had no problem blatantly giving me an up-down check out.
 
“Nice,” he said simply, leaning against the door-frame, “Looks expensive.”
 
“It was. Where’s Eff?”
 
He arched an eyebrow, “Eff? You guys are on a nickname basis now, eh?”
 
“Where is she?”
 
“I’m just trying to bond, /Elles/,” he said with that same damn smirk that seemed to permanently grace my brother’s face.
 
I pushed past him and into the apartment, where I easily found Effie’s room by following the music. I felt a weird sense of familiarity in the Dumont home. I hadn’t been there before, of course, but it felt like I had been there many times.
 
Maybe it was just my soul desperately clinging to something that wasn’t toxic. And boy, I hoped this wasn’t toxic.
 
“Ready?” Effie appeared in the hallway, taking me somewhat by surprise, and I nodded, holding out an arm for her to loop hers through. I realized that was something I did with Cam, and replaced my arm back by my side, remembering that this was something new.
 
We hit 4 parties in all,
and run in the New Year at the biggest, baddest one of all.
 
I could feel Page 6 reporters snapping pictures-
they always followed me around,
and I posed gracefully and messily, sometimes carrying the forever-getting-drunker Effie Dumont and other times stumbling on my own step.
 
“10”
 
-I thought of Cam, and how different it all was and for a moment the world felt so small and so bad and I wondered where she was and, more importantly- if she was happy-
 
“9!”
 
- This was stupid, wherever she was she wasn’t thinking about me. And wherever George was, he was with some girl who would do anything he asked, whenever he asked and maybe he would say “I love you on this fine, new night”-
 
I found Effie and pulled her by the arm.
 
“8!”
 
“What’s your resolution?!”
I screamed
 
“7!”
 
Effie looked just as lost and ridiculous as I felt and I knew that we were both falling behind, and needed each other to be there to soften the harsh, harsh landing.
 
“6!”
 
She almost fell backwards and I could tell that she had too much to drink.
 
“5!”
 
“To be strong!” She said finally,
“Yours?”
 
“4!”
 
What did I want? Cam, George, Alex, a plan, Vogue, no no, no
No,
I didn’t want any of that.
 
“3!”
 
“To fuc.king /own/ next year!”
 
“2!”
 
She giggled, I think,
But looked scared and alone,
and I finally realized that we were surrounded by a million sweaty bodies that we didn’t know,
and the music was loud,
and my heart was racing,
and this feeling was not new at all.
 
“1!”
 
“HAPPY NEW YEAR!”
 
Someone grabbed me,
I think I smiled and laughed,
my mind floating somewhere in the lights-
I think I kissed someone,
I think I did.
 
I spent a half hour looking for Effie until I found her alone, passed out on the couch, and carried her out to the taxi. I took her back home, and called Oliver to come carry her in.
 
I trailed behind, carrying her purse and shoes.
 
“Thanks,” Oliver said when he returned to the sitting room, where I was awkwardly standing with her belongings in my hand.
 
I nodded slowly,
looking down at his suit and saying,
“Oh fu.ck, were you at a party when I called?”
 
He looked down at his own torso as if his attire surprised him, and shook his head, “Yeah, I was earlier. Home when you called, though. I guess I forgot to take this off.”
 
I nodded,
Then stared at the tiles for a minute.
 
“What about you, then?” He said with a smirk, “No boy on your agenda for the evening? The Elena Rivera spending the rest of her night alone?”
 
I was drunk, I was tired, I was sad, and I was sick of being taunted.
 
I took a step closer to him and said, “For your information,” I said dramatically, “There is no ‘the’ in front of my name. I am not expected to do anything, I’m not going to be told to do anything, and I am not going to take the words of some pompous hipster personally.”
 
He laughed out loud, and raised the beer bottle in his hand,
“I’ll drink to that.”
 
For some reason that I will never be able to explain, I found myself kissing him, and his hand found its way to my neck, and he kissed me, too.
 
It was timidly, at first,
but I could feel something in his tongue that felt like the same loneliness and overall doneness that I felt,
and we quickly fell onto the couch.
 
He pulled away suddenly, and we both sat up with slightly open mouths, avoiding eye contact.
 
“No one can know about that,” I said simply.
 
“Ever.”
 
It looked like this New Year was staring off just like the last one:
in secret.
 
-xx, e.

yo yo yiggity yo
that was lame
i'm game
tame lame rame
what's my name
 
okay anyway
sup yall
 
here is xmas
haha finally
amirite
 
anyway
read and enjoy
(hopefully)
 
is love// white lies
 
uh
okay
well
goodbye
 
--
 

December 24th;
 
1:24 A.M
George;
 
She appeared at the top of the stairs like a dream, just as I was stuck between sleep and a harsh awakening I could see her descending the staircase, enveloped in a golden light- from the hallway upstairs.
 
She was wearing one of my button downs, only buttoned from her waist, so you could see the sides of her breasts, and it was short enough to reveal her upper thigh. Her hair was up in a loose bun, which was falling out in a mess, and some of it spilled around her shoulders.
 
“George,” she said, wide-eyed, though she didn’t cover herself, “I didn’t know you stayed the night.”
 
I sat up and rubbed my neck, “Yeah, I did, Alex and I got pretty fooked, so-“
 
I felt my whole body pulsating, she was so damn attractive.
From the smooth curve of her neck to the hints of sexuality cloaked with an innocence that she didn’t deserve but always carried.
 
“I couldn’t sleep,” she said, suddenly aware that she was holding a stuffed animal bear, “And, uh, neither could Bear.”
 
Her house was cold, and my chest was bare, I was suddenly aware of the goosebumps on my skin. I patted the seat beside me and she bit her lip in hesitation before sitting beside me, facing me with crossed legs.
 
“How was your night?”
 
We talked for three hours, until it was four in the morning, then her head was leaned against the couch and her eyes were closed, her lips parted and gentle and her breathing even. I could see into her shirt, since the way she was sitting made it part from her skin, and I had to bite my lip and look away.
 
I didn’t know if she was asleep, or just using it as an excuse, but she climbed on my chest and snuggled into my neck, and I laid down with my arm around her waist. And it could have been a dream, but I think her lips grazed my neck- just once.
 

9:36 AM
Elena;
 
I woke up on Christmas Eve to a freaked out New York City and a light snowfall. My mother was singing from the kitchen, and I was laying on top of George Daniels.
 
I laughed as he woke up, seeming startled by my presence,
But, he smiled, too.
 
“Of course,” he sighed, “I knew you’d be the first one to break down.”
 
I laughed and sat up quickly, “I did not /break down’,” I said the words break down in his stupid cute accent, and shook my head, “I couldn’t sleep and you were the best available option.”
 
“What were your others?”
 
“I would’ve really liked Joel McHale but, it is what it is.”
 
I got up to get a mug of coffee, and found my mother leaning against the counter and looking at me with stern eyes.
 
“Elle, be careful,” she said, “That boy broke your heart last time.”
 
She held out a mug, and I held it tightly in my hands, remembering the months of depressing playlists and late nights that it took for me to get over George the first time.
 
I shook my head, “Well, you weren’t even here for that, were you?”
 
She nodded, and turned away,
And for a moment I wanted to hug her,
But then I walked silently back into the living room,
Where George was idly flipping through his cell phone.
 
I started up the stairs to my room, saying “Come on, Georgie, I need your help!”
 

George;
 
I watched her skip up stairs and disappear behind her bedroom door, and when I entered she closed the door behind me and peeled off the shirt she was wearing.
 
I arched an eyebrow and she smirked and said, “I have three dress options, and I need your help picking one.”
 
I think she could see how much I wanted to reach out and grab her, because she was smiling a full, confident smile now, and she got just inches from my face to whisper, “Are you /breaking down/?”
 
I shook my head and sat on her bed, nodding in her direction and saying “I will glady help you, dear.”
 
Her first option was sleek and sultry, a deep v and frame-hugging fabric. It was deep red, and almost made all of her skin glow maroon. You could see how small her waist was, and it defined her curves.
 
“So?” she said, doing a twist, “Too risqué?”
 
“Well, I certainly give it a ten.”
 
It seemed like she pulled off and on every option slower, almost like she was dancing. I had challenged her, and now she was breaking me down.
 
And this was a challenge I was willing to take,
Although at this rate I didn’t foresee winning.
 
Her second option was sleeveless and short with a bottom the puffed out slightly. It was deep green, and made her legs look longer. She curtsied when she put it on, laughing and twirling.
 
“Too childish?”
 
“Eight.”
 
“Oh,” she said falsely as the second option fell to the ground, leaving her in her underwear, “I can’t find the third one.”
 
She walked around the room,
Looking in drawers and through her closet,
And I bit my lip and looked at the ceiling.
 
“Why do you have to do this?” I exclaimed.
 
“Do what?” she teased.
 
“Be so damn hot all the time!” I collapsed on the bed and covered my face with a pillow.
 
She giggled and said,
“Oh, are you breaking down?”
 
I sat up again and shook my head, “No, not at all. Let me see number three.”
 
She pulled on white sleeveless dress that was short in the front but long in the back, and her eyes lit up as she zipped the zipper, then turned to me biting her lip.
 
“That’s it,” I said, “Wear that one.”
 
She looked like an angel, and she smiled and said,
“Thanks, George.”
 
For a minute she fumbled with the zipper,
So I got up and pulled it slowly, my knuckles scraping her back all the way down to the small of it,
I felt her shiver.
 
And from behind her I whispered in her ear,
“Breaking down yet?”
 
She turned sharply,
and shook her head, speaking almost breathlessly,
“No. Are you?”
 

7:36 PM
Elle;
 
I pulled on my dress, painted my lips red, and put my hair up in a loose bun. Happy Christmas Eve, Upper East Side.
 
I took two shots before the party,
to reduce the stress,
and turned the music loud to dance along.
 
Alex appeared and twirled me around,
Crooning along with the song,
and then we had taken two more shots,
and I was buzzed.
 
“Elleeeessssss!” He said, spinning me again,
“You’re the best sister ever.”
 
He was always so much drunker than I was,
So I laughed and said-
“I guess you’re okay.”
 
“Fu.ck you!”
 
We heard the elevator buzz and Cam entered the penthouse, her heels clicking on the wood as she held two packages in her hands. “I came early to see you,” she said softly.
 
I realized it was the first time I had seen her since she got back from her trip, and I ran over quickly and grasped her tightly. She seemed taken aback by my forwardness, but smiled and hugged me back.
 
“You look hot!” I said, admiring her choice of a black dress, something that everyone would be doing the next month.
 
They still followed Cam.
I’m pretty sure even Anna Wintour had her eye on Cam’s street style.
 
She did a small pose, then looked at my outfit and said, “I love that dress!”
 
“Thanks! George picked it out.”
 
Her eyes seemed warning for a minute, but she said nothing-
She just smiled and looked behind me at Alex,
Who was undoubtedly helping himself to more shots.
 
“Niall couldn’t make it,” she said softly, “He’s doing a show somewhere in England, I think….”
 
Alex appeared behind me, seemingly out of nowhere but with a mouthful of food, “Shame! I like that guy. Told him he could borrow a record or two.”
 
She nodded in his direction, scanning him with her eyes-
He did look good in a suit.
 
Guests started pouring in and the music was turned up, the lights were turned town, and vodka bottles were quickly being turned over.
 
“Killer party, Elles!” Nate Carters screamed, being followed by Rob Samuels who winked at me as they made their way to the drink table.
 
I saw a new face: a tall one with crazy hair that almost looked like a peacock feather,
And I was instantly intrigued.
 
“Who are you?”
 
He looked over quizzically and said,
“My name is Oliver.”
 
“Oliver DuMont??” I almost laughed, “Holy sh.it…. you’ve got a rep on you.”
 
He raised his eyebrows, but didn’t bother to respond,
His eyes just went back to scanning the party.
 
“What are you doing here, anyway?”
 
He looked over with a look that said
‘are you really still here?’
and shook his head,
“Nothing better to do.”
 
“On Christmas Eve? That’s sad.”
 
He looked over with a curious look,
Though I think I saw the hint of a smile,
Or maybe it was an annoyed glance,
“Fine. I wanted to come.”
 
“Why?”
 
He shrugged, “I’ve always been curious about the Riveras. And this whole stupid world of pretentious rich kids and wanna be queens. What better way to spend Christmas, right?”
 
I laughed, suddenly realizing that he hadn’t the faintest idea who I was, and nodded,
Thinking he sounded just like my brother.
 
“Are you enjoying yourself?”
 
He shrugged,
“I dunno. A room full of emotionally closed off teenagers who want to have sex with anyone and everyone who can get them up the social ladder. The crazy queen, my sister and Ashley’s weird bond, and whoever this Elena chick is, she seems like a real fuc/king mess.”
 
I arched an eyebrow, now,
and shoved the rest of my beer into his hand,
saying-
“I’m Elena Rivera, dickhead. Enjoy the rest of the party.”
 
I didn’t even bother to see the look on his face as I weaved through the crowd of people, some of who stopped me to tell me how beautiful the penthouse looked or how good my playlist was.
 
I felt angry for no reason at all,
It was the holiday, wasn’t it?
 
Cam noticed as I angrily took two shots,
And came over looking quizzical.
 
“What’s wrong?”
 
“Oliver fuc/king DuMont!” I exclaimed, pacing back and forth and waving my arms, “Who does he think he is? This is fun! This is a good party! He is a prick! He is…. Jesus, he’s Alex! What a pretentious a/ss! And HE thinks the PEOPLE HERE are pretentious? Well maybe you should look in a mirror, a/sshole!”
 
I looked back at her,
And she was smiling,
“Slow down, cowboy, why do you care so much?”
 
I stopped pacing and shook my head,
Pouring myself another shot and taking it quickly-
“I don’t.”
 
“Remember what I always say?”
 
She was looking at me like a mother,
and I rolled my eyes-
and in unison we chorused
“A lion doesn’t lose sleep over the opinion of a sheep.”
 
I spent the rest of the party doing what I always do-
Dancing, drinking, taking pictures,
Laughing, smiling.
 
I danced with Ashley,
Singing Christmas Carols and making fun of her red nose,
Calling her Rudolph for the night.
 
And I gave everyone a big kiss on the cheek,
Thanking them profusely for coming
And twirling most of them around.
 
And when everyone was leaving,
And Alex was disappearing upstairs with Ashley,
I sat on the couch and looked around at the mess.
 
I was a lion.
Roar.
“Are you gonna be okay with all this?” Cam asked,
her coat was already on and she was standing by the elevator.
 
“Peachy-keen” I said with a smile.
 
And I hugged her tightly,
then she, too, left my pentouse.
 
I struggled for a bit to stuff some of the mess into black bags,
Occasionally taking a break to change the song, or sing along,
Dancing sometimes,
Or just looking out the window.
 
When all was still and silent,
The elevator rung and I looked over,
Seeing a slightly drunk and distraught George standing in the doorway.
 
“I’m broken,” he said faintly,
“Yeah, I’m uh, I’m broken down.”
 
I didn’t speak,
I just stood open- mouthed,
Holding bits of trash from the party in my hands.
 
“You win,” he said,
walking toward me agonizingly slowly,
as I still struggled to sort through my drunken thoughts
and figure out if I was dreaming.
 
“You win,” he said again,
“And I am here because I met a girl tonight and I was sitting there and she was ready to go back to my apartment and I couldn’t stop comparing her to you, and I couldn’t stop thinking about you in this dress.”
 
I rolled my eyes,
Because that was the lamest rom-com speech I had ever heard,
Even from George,
But I was almost smiling,
And staring,
And shocked.
 
“So,” he said,
standing inches from me now,
“I came here.”
 
“You missed the party,”
I said quietly.
 
“I’m sorry.”
 
I kissed him passionately,
Grabbing his neck and pulling him hard,
Dropping the trash back on the floor,
And almost stumbling over a glass bottle.
 
“I’m over it,”
I said breathlessly in between kisses.
 
His hand played with my zipper again,
and pulled it down slowly.
 
I glanced over at the clock,
and smiled when I saw that it was past midnight,
“Merry Christmas.”
 
My voice was barely more than a whisper-
And he looked over at the clock and smiled,
“Merry Christmas.”
 
For the first time since he walked into my penthouse I looked him in the eye, and saw the truth sparkling behind them,
and I kissed him eagerly again,
 
His hand ran up my thigh,
Caressed my hip,
And landed on my waist-
And I gasped as he softly bit my earlobe with a hunger that I couldn’t explain,
But made my fingernails dig into his bare back.
 
We somehow made it to my bedroom,
Though we were both giggling and drunk on expensive vodka.
 
I closed the door with a smirk,
and climbed into bed.
 
- xx, e
 
YAY
i think
i don't know
I JUST WANT ELENA TO GET LAID

here's a short story for celeste!!
i hope you like!
 
reminders:
steven is dom cooper
brody is eddie redmayne
celeste is amanda seyfried
 
and ami is the lovely @vampire-weakend
 
anyway, i hope you like this!!
 
i LOVE this song
AHHH
 
autumn of the seraphs// pinback
 
plus the both work with movies so the title of this story works, eh??
 
how are you guys?
i'm good- SO BUSY THO
 
also GO BALTIMORE
SUPERBOWL
SPORTS
WOO
 
this is just short to intro celeste
so i hope ya like it!!
 
----
 
My fingertips stretched across the white blankets, but felt nothing but the cold indent where Steven was laying. I sighed and my hand through my hair, listening closely to hear the shower running.
 
I was wearing a white tank top and underwear, yet there was still sweat on my lower back, I threw the down comforter from my legs and escaped into the kitchen to make some sort of breakfast.
 
As usual, Steven's house was equipped only with bottles of Fiji water, a carton of eggs, coffee supplies, and a loaf of bread- plus a couple more food items that couldn't possibly be used for anything.
 
I sighed, leaning against the counter and observing his ostentatious refrigerator, wondering why he felt the need to have such a big appliance for the little food that he kept.
 
"Good morning, babe," His husky voice greeted as he walked into the kitchen, his hair was still wet, and he had only bothered to put on boxers.
 
Every time I saw him my mouth felt an urge to drop,
and my eyes widened.
He could be an actor if he wanted,
but he always chose to write the movies instead of act in them.
 
"What are your plans for today?" He said as he started brewing a pot of coffee.
 
I shrugged-
"Probably just going to hang out with Brody," I said as I tore into a piece of bread, "Oh and I have a lunch date with Ami."
 
He scoffed,
and arched an eyebrow,
"The journalist?"
 
I folded my arms,
"Yes. Why?"
 
He shrugged innocently,
but the look on his face said nothing but the opposite-
he had a vendetta against Ami ever since she printed an article based on what to do when your boyfriend is always busy, and quoted me as a source.
 
"I just think you should get a circle of friends that are.... more of what you want to be," he said.
 
I crumbled a piece of the bread in my hands, "What is that supposed to mean?"
 
He raised his hand in defense, knowing that I was getting frustrated, and shook his head. "Look, you just need to be seen with people in the industry. And Ami's trouble, you know that."
 
"We've been friends for 9 years, Steve," I said firmly.
 
He put his mug down on the counter, and walked over to where I was standing, putting his hands on my hips and his forehead on mine. He smelled like the African Black Soap that he kept in his shower.
 
"Sorry, babe," he growled,
smiling softly.
 
All the anger I felt melted slowly away,
and I nodded- "Me too."
 
He hummed a tune, something I recognized from the radio, and sung slowly- "I loooove you."
 
Stubbornly, I looked to the side with a smirk,
and shook my head as he kissed my ear, jaw, and neck-
still singing softly-
"I love you."
 
"Okay, a.sshole," I said,
kissing him sweetly,
"I love you, too."
 
He picked me up and put me on the counter, filling me with more kisses and running his hands along my skin, which was now covered in goosebumps.
 
We found ourselves back in his bed,
the little clothes I had on before were now littered along his hardwood floors,
and I, too, smelled like his african soap.
 
"Stay here," I said, nuzzling myself into his neck,
"Let's just hang out today."
 
He sighed,
"Can't, babes, I 've got like a million meetings."
 
In a half hour he was suited, gelled, and gone,
leaving the smell of that soap in his wake.
 
The only clothes of mine that were hanging alongside his suits were a blue dress with red dots, red heels, and a red coat. I couldn't remember what dinner or party or banquet I had worn them to, but I was happy to pull them on this morning.
 
I braided my hair to one side, applied some of the makeup that I had stashed in my purse, and left his apartment with a click of the door.
 
I didn’t know where Steven was going, in fact I rarely ever did. That was what had attracted me to him in the beginning: the mystery about his life. The acclaimed Hollywood screenwriter with an Oscar on his desk- and now, after an ad for Burberry ran with his face on it, a model, too.
 
I sighed and turned the corner, drowning myself in the aesthetics of New York in the morning. The sun was still rosy-cheeked and rising slowly higher into the sky, decorated lightly with clouds.
 
There wasn’t an ongoing chorus of honks yet, just a few spaced out, like a firecracker that is still clinging to the last bits of life.
 
I walked aimlessly for a half hour, window shopping and humming quietly to myself, dreaming up the Turkey Avocado sandwich or hot bowl of French Onion soup that I would order once I met with Ami.
 
I hugged my sweater closely to my torso, thinking that I must have worn this dress before in a warmer month, because it felt like I was wearing nothing at all.
 
There was something romantic about this time of night. I thought dreamily of a time when Steven would be here, an arm around me and his lips smirking as we both walked, certain we’d make it big.
 
I sighed as I arrived at the place where I was to meet Ami, and found her leaned against the brick wall, smoking a cigarette from behind a pair of thick sunglasses. I was certain that her eyes were sitting and watching everyone walk past- like writers do.
 
“Hey, Barbie,” she said with a smile, as she picked up the heavy glass door and ushered me through.
 
I could feel my cheeks going red at her casual mention of my nickname. We were very different, Ami and I, but just different enough to make our friendship strong- although I frequently found myself blushing around her.
 
The café smelled like noodles and I smiled at the mere thought of actual food, finally realizing how hungry I was.
 
I ordered two plates.
“Holy shi.t, Celeste, you hungry?”
 
I smiled timidly, red in the face again, and shrugged. “Steven didn’t have anything other than a pack of bagels. He’s weird with food.”
 
It was a known fact that Ami hated Steven as much as he hated her. The best friend and the boyfriend feud- a common archetype, but one that is a pain in the butt in real life.
 
“He’s starving you,” she grumbled.
 
I stirred my iced tea and shook my head, “He is not! He’s just weird about it, and it’s best not to stir the pot on that one.”
 
“Well, you need to put some pasta in the pot and stir that. You’re practically wasting away to nothing.”
 
I thought quietly about how I’d lost 3 pounds in the past month- something dangerous since I was already close to underweight. I didn’t mention it- I just laughed.
 
---- FLASHBACK ----
 
“Close your eyes,” Steven said again.
 
I was biting my lip and smiling, sitting on the counter and rocking gently back and forth. I was eager for this surprise because, after such a long time together, I hoped it’d be a big one.
 
“Are they closed?” He said, and I could tell his voice was closer. He was probably in the door frame of my kitchen, and I was on the island in the middle of the room.
 
“Yes!” I said loudly, laughing slightly and gripping the marble surface to make sure I wouldn’t slip off.
 
“Okay,” he said, “Open them.”
 
I opened my eyes to see him holding a gown in the air- it was sleek and black, with a full top and an almost nonexistent back, and a slit going up to the top of the thigh. I smiled and hopped off the counter to look.
 
“I thought you could wear it to the opening of my new movie,” he said with a smile.
 
I nodded enthusiastically, and grabbed for it, eager to try it on, when I noticed the size tag: 0. It was then that I noticed how small it looked, and I crossed my arms, taking a step back.
“That’s too small,” I said, my voice almost nonexistent and my face red.
 
He shrugged, “Well with a bit a work I bet we can get ya into it by the party!” He was still smiling.
 
I nodded,
“Yeah, I bet we can.”
I smiled, too.
 
---- PRESENT TIME ----
 
“Wanna know a secret?” I said.
 
Her eyes widened, and she leaned forward slightly. If anything, Ami loved secrets. She nodded eagerly.
 
I sighed, “Steven didn’t want me to meet you today because he said I need a group of friends who will quote unquote ‘get me places’”.
 
Her mouth dropped, and she shook her head furiously. “He is awful!”
 
“He really is a good guy!” I argued lamely.
 
“He is an a.sshole,” she said simply, “And you could do 5 trillion times better.”
 
I sighed, sipping my iced tea and thinking maybe I could, but never dreaming that I would. By then the waiter had arrived, and looked at me with curious eyes as he delivered me an obnoxious amount of food.
 
“What about Brody?” she asked, “He’s hot.”
 
I shrugged, “Brody and I are friends,” I said, “I doubt it’d ever go past that. He actually wants me to audition for this movie, thinks I should put my singing voice to work.”
 
Her eyes widened again, “What movie?”
 
“You can’t tell!”
 
She nodded, but I could see the journalist that lived inside her. No matter what I said, it would be printed in some form. But she was my best friend, so that was typically a risk I was willing to take.
 
“Well, there’s a production of Les Miserables in the making, and they’ve asked him to try out for Marius. So, he wants me to try out for Cosette- I played her in high school once so I actually think I might go for it, if he can even get me an audition.”
“I don’t know what those names mean, but I swear to whatever’s up there that I will force you into that audition room, then you’ll finally know what you’re worth and leave that fleabag, eh?”
 
I smiled, nodded, and finally started heavily considered swallowing my nerves and auditioning for Hollywood.
 
“So,” I said through giant bites of food, “How’s your life?”
 
She rolled her eyes, rubbing her fingers along her pack of cigarettes like she does when she’s itching to smoke- “Can’t remember most of it, but I’m alive so I guess that’s something.”
 
“I meant to tell you!” I said excitedly, “I saw your picture on a bus the other day!”
 
“Jesus H. Christ,” she said, “I’m a superstar.”
 
I rolled my eyes, but smiled, “May New York bow down to its queen!”
 
I left with a stomach ache, a dream,
and an uneasy feeling,
arm in arm with my best friend.
 
- celeste ford

HELLO
here is some Nicole!
 
meow!
 
this song is called "i'll get by" by pianos become the teeth
they are an acquired taste
basically, he just shouts the lyrics
i like it, doe!
 
it's about someone coping with a death,
but i think it sounds so much like zane's feelings for nicole,
so here are the rest of the words!!
 
"I used to listen to my life,
I was so put together,
I chose what I wanted to be in that age of chasing sand,
the age of believing in everything,
but I couldn't save you,
I couldn't save what was taken away,
and I'm still singing, and you still can't stay.
You "loved life," and those words have lasted,
I just wish I would have had ears for more than what you said
because I still feel the lack long after.
Such a light body, such a quiet gait leaving behind the weight of the world,
I'll always think it was too early to lose your shine,
I guess the means that ends us means nothing,
I just hope it's the peace we all need,
Because I could love and drown in your God damned smile lines,
but I think I burnt up watching you rallying to stay alive,
and I guess that's fine.
It seems we all get sick,
we all die in some no name hospital with the same colored walls,
and I guess that's fine,
but I want to swallow, I want to stomach, I want to live.
It's been a rough while and some days are worse than others,
there's no proper way to feel, no mirth, no levity, no amazing grace,
just a flame on a lake floating away,
I can't let you lay,
I want you to know, I'm learning patience against my will,
I want you to know, I'll get by, always barely scraping
with just a hunger, with just a heart apart,
it's a hell of a thing."
 
AHH
RIGHT
 
okay anyway,
here is the story now:
 
hope ya like eet!!
 
----
 
friday december 28th;;
 

It seemed like the only time I ever saw George was on the boat ride to and from New Temple, and I soon learned to cherish these bits of uninterrupted peace.
 
There was no stress with George,
no pretending or lying or walls,
no being worried like a mother like I was with Kat,
I could finally be myself,
Whoever that was.
 
“Oi! Saved ya a seat,” George greeted,
tapping on the red vinyl and wearing a dumb smile.
 
As soon as I sat down, he shoved an iPhone earbud in my face and started enthusing about a new song he’d written,
Urging me to listen and give my “honest opinion even if I hate it”.
I smiled and closed my eyes,
Trying not to think about how hopeful and excited George looked,
And listening to him sing in my ear.
 
I smiled,
And nodded as I gave it back to him,
“That’s good, George. Really good.”
 
He smiled into his lap,
And tucked his phone back into his pocket,
“Well if the almighty Nicol- er- Jill thinks so, it must be something.”
 
“It is.”
 
I was pleased to arrive at the island and find it sufficiently coated with snow,
white and inviting-
I took off my scarf and hat,
And tucked them into my bag as I got off the boat.
 
George kissed me on the cheek,
And put a reassuring hand on my shoulder,
Then said “Be good, kid”
And we went our separate ways for the weekend.
 
I found a blonde guy with gauges and a tall, skinny brunette with a tattoo on her throat and invited them to smoke with me under a tall, wide tree-
Which sheltered us from the rain.
 
Their names were Wyatt and Lilac, they had stumbled upon the boat to New Temple thinking it was something else, no one questioned it because it seemed like they needed a place to go. And it wasn’t until they got to the island that they realized they were lost in the first place.
 
“So, what’s your story?” Wyatt asked.
 
I was high,
and I was happy,
so I took a deep breath.
 
“You really wanna know?”
 
They nodded,
Lilac even crossed her tiny little legs and put her chin in her hands, then put her elbows on her knees like a child.
 
“I have been coming here for three years now, I was invited by the daughter of one of the founders. I became notorious here, like everyone else. I was somebody. And then I went crazy, and I fell in love and went crazier-then I tried to kill myself and just recently got back.”
 
Their eyes were searching me,
Wondering if I was telling the truth,
And I smiled-
“You don’t have to look like that. I’m different now.”
 
Different, different
As can be.
 
Wyatt nodded, “Cool.”
 
I arched an eyebrow at him,
And threw my head back with laughter,
Then repeated it softly to myself-
“Cool.”
 
Nature is fine in love, and where 'tis fine,
It sends some precious instance of itself,
After the thing it loves.
 
We shared stories for another hour,
Waiting for the worst part of the snow storm to blow over.
 
They had traveled all over, seen so many things, and they were engaged to be married soon. They met in the Peace Corps. They always had a disposable camera with them wherever they went. Lilac liked riding horses and Wyatt liked to paint.
 
I smiled at them,
and scratched myself gently on the forearm,
each time their eyes spoke more than their mouths ever could.
 
“Fare thee well, my dove!” I said cheerfully as
I slung my bag back around my shoulders
and walked up the hill that meant my bungalow was fast approaching.
 
I could see it in the distance,
Which meant warmth was so near,
but I stopped when I saw a familiar face.
 
“Heyyyyy, Aliiiice!” I sang, shouted,
and she looked over with a smile.
 
“Well, someone’s had too much vodka in their tea this morning,” she said as she walked over to me,
and I looped my arm through her’s.
 
I laughed,
and slipped over my feet,
but regained myself and said-
“Shh I don’t even drink tea!”
 
I reached a hand into my bag and pulled out my flask, popping it open with my teeth and handing it to her. She took it quickly and downed half of it- I laughed at her talent.
 
“Where is your lover?” I teased.
 
“You’re my lover!” She said cheerfully.
 
And we hugged,
Then more people joined,
And we were dancing,
And I didn’t feel smothered,
Or scared,
I just laughed.
 
Maybe people really can change.
Maybe I didn’t need the nunnery after all.
 
As the sun set,
Kat, Alice, and Effie all disappeared one by one,
and they were replaced by the rain,
which vowed to keep my company.
 
I ran a finger along a raindrop-soaked leaf,
and then looked up as I felt one perfect drop explode on the tip of my nose,
every sense so perfectly amplified.
 
I tore off my sweatshirt and my shirt,
Wearing only a lace bra and my wool leggings now,
And threw my arms up as I danced around.
 
The rain stung my arms,
Which were sufficiently covered in cuts,
But I was too distracted to notice the pain.
 
“Nic, you’re crazy!” I heard a voice call,
and I looked up to see Zane standing on his porch,
wearing a smile.
 
“Come dance with me!”
I screamed-
Finally realizing how cold it was,
and how red my stomach was,
and how my breath was pouring out of my mouth like steam,
and disappearing into the sky.
 
He appeared by my side a moment later,
Wrapping his flannel around my shoulders,
He himself wearing only a t shirt now.
 
When we got inside,
I hugged his flannel close to me,
And curled up on his couch,
As he made hot chocolate in the kitchen.
 
“Where’s Naomi?”
I asked.
 
He looked up suddenly,
And shrugged,
“Out somewhere. I can only guess where.”
 
He handed my a mug,
Then sat across from me-

“God, you’re so different,” he said, coating himself with a smile. Though I could almost see my reflection in his teeth, I couldn’t tell exactly what he meant by that statement. Was he happy that I seemed happy? Was he intrigued by my mysterious yet again? Did he miss how I was, for a time, vulnerable? Was I still the Nicole that he loved so much for so long?
 
My mind spoke-
But my mouth didn’t even flinch.
I just winked, smirked,
and took a long drag of a cigarette.
 
It’s funny how much you can change,
and how full circle you can come.
 
I felt a fingernail begin to scratch the skin on my forearm,
But it felt like a soft tickle, and I almost laughed-
At how completely and totally full circle I did go.
 
“Did you think about me ever?” He asked suddenly, looking at me with eyes so wide that I could clearly see my own reflection in them- my legs were out in front of me, and my arms were crossed, my left hand holding a cigarette.
 
“Every day,” I said lowly, simply.
 
We sat in silence for a moment.
The Prince of Denmark and his crazy,
Love-lost girlfriend.
All I needed to do was drown.
 
His eyes dropped to my arm,
I hadn’t noticed how bloody it was,
And he quickly took it in his hand.
 
“Hey, hey, hey,” he said quickly,
holding my forearm tightly but gently in his hands,
and looking seriously at me,
“Stop this.”
 
“Zane-“
 
“Don’t say anything other than okay,” he said.
 
I blinked once,
Twice, forgetting how weird that sensation is-
Being cared about.
It’s almost as bad as caring.
“Please, Nic,” he said in a desperate whisper,
“For me. For me, please just stop-“
 
I knew he could see the scars from that day,
Possibly a few others,
And that he was silently blaming himself.
 
Maybe, in his mind, he was revisiting the day that he discovered me there, lying on the bed unconscious, surrounded by red- stained by it. The way his face looked as he revisited that day- that was as close as I ever wanted to get to his reaction when he walked in.
 
I pulled down the sleeve of my flannel,
“My name is Jill now.”
 
Reluctantly, he nodded.
And after a minute,
Smiled.
 

“Let’s go do something,” he said,
“Something fun.”
 
It was snowing when we got outside-
So I went back to get a heavier coat and a hat,
And we set off down a pathway that was already covered in white.
 
There weren’t many people out,
But the few who were had red noses and big smiles.
I thought of Kat, who loved the snow,
Her whole small body trembling,
And she was still wearing a big, goofy smile.
 
Zane collapsed on the ground,
and I looked after him with a smile-
“Cold?”
 
He nodded,
“Freezing. So you better get down here then, yeah?”
 
I was smiling,
At his stupidity and his childishness,
and the whites of his teeth which matched the snow.
 
I closed my eyes,
Turned around,
And fell backwards into the snow beside him,
landing on a soft mountain like a pillow,
and immediately being stung by the cold flakes.
 
“Oh, how I wish it was summer,” I said.
 
He turned his head,
and I could feel his eyes on me,
but I kept mine focused on the constellations.
 
“You’re being pessimistic.”
 
I smirked,
Then turned to face him, too,
And said, “Why’s that?”
 
“Because, in the winter you can’t make a snow angel. And you look pretty sexy with a red nose.”
 
My eyes on the stars again,
I begged for an answer-
To be, or not to be?
To love or not to love?
To feel or not to feel?
 
“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think these lame little remarks were an attempt at flirting.”
 
“Everyone knows you can’t get Nicole Johansen simply by /flirting/, she’s a tough girl to crack,” he said.
 
And that was it,
I felt my breath slip slowly out of my lungs,
and I took long, arduous breaths.
 
I sat up quickly and ran my fingers through my hair,
Trying to breath, think, anything,
But I could only hear one long high-pitched note,
That sounded something like a scream.
 
There were tears, soaking my face,
And freezing almost instantly-
But I wasn’t cold.
 
I felt Zane’s fingers touch my arm-
He whispered something quietly-
But I couldn’t hear what.
 
His touch felt wrong,
Like fire-
and I look over suddenly into his worried eyes.
 
I shook my head,
And watched his heart slowly break through
His pupils.
 
And then,
I was running fast in the direction of my bungalow.
 
My tears were stinging my face,
I could feel nothing but the icy bites on my cheeks,
As I was prepared to double over in pain.
 
I slipped once,
but didn’t fall,
and ran through the woods quickly,
dodging trees,
jumping over fallen branches,
and getting my shins stained with muddy water.
 
At some point I got a cut on my cheekbone,
I could feel the blood running down by face.
 
Once I was home,
Back in the warmth of my bungalow,
I fell onto the couch-
There were no more tears, as I stared silently ahead.
 
And a few minutes later, the door opened,
And Zane once again stepped inside.
 
“Care to explain?”
 
I stared at the television,
mindlessly scratching my arm,
hugging myself tightly.
 
“Nicole, I-“
 
“I’m not Nicole,”
I said, monotone.
 
He took a deep breath,
and his palm clenched,
“Yes, you are.”
 
I sat up quickly,
And shook my head,
“My name is Jill.”
 
He took a step closer to me,
And shook his head, “No.”
 
I stood, too,
and crossed my arms tightly,
“Yes, it is.”
 
He was close enough to tuck my hair behind my ear,
And rest a hand on my neck,
“You are Nicole Johansen.”
 
My breathing became shallow again, and I shook my head quickly,
Not looking at anything in particular.
 
“No-“
I shook my head and pulled myself from his grip,
Finding something, anything,
And throwing it in his direction.
I don’t know what it was- but I heard it shatter.
 
My eyes were watering-
And his were, too.
 
Standing on opposite sides of the room,
Looking at each other with slightly parted lips,
Both of us lost.
 
His cardigan was slipping off of his shoulder,
and my hair was falling out of its already loose bun.
 
I was breathing heavily, shaking slightly,
and falling deeply.
 
“Why are you running away? “ He said breathlessly, “From us? How can you- How can you just leave it all behind like it was nothing?”
 
“It was everything to me!” I practically screamed, “That’s why, Zane. I went crazy, I tried to- I tried to-“
I couldn’t finish that sentence,
so instead I just looked down,
then turned away from him and pulled my sweater tighter around my body, which suddenly felt so cold-
“Please leave, Zane.”
 
There was a moment of silence,
he started to mumble a couple times,
then I heard the door to my bungalow open and close again.
 
- jill
 
saturday and sunday will be up soon
C:
 
hope ya liked it!!

So this is my ripoff of @mclovinn -
go check her set it is magical and makes you want to cry-
http://www.polyvore.com/know_your_worlds_broken_bone/set?id=67304671
 
So here is mine for Elles!
Since I have deleted and remade so many times, I lost alot of story data for her.....
but I'm going to try to remember it all!
((((((TRY))))))))
 
I broke this up into 5 stages of life,
with 5 different songs to describe it.
 
So,
STAGE 1- RECLUSE;;
Song- Good Day by Jukebox the Ghost
"And oh how good it felt to be young and loved and feel it in our bones"
 
Elena Charlotte Duerre Rivera was born into a family who owned a prominent publishing company- controlling many of the city's most popular magazine. Since her parents were often out of town on business (or usually just pleasure) the Elena and her brother, Alex, were often left with a nanny, or just on their own.
 
Their parents tried to force them into the Upper East Side, but Alex, who was older, had rejected it completely. Since this was the only view Elle saw, it was soon the one she adopted, and she showed little interest in dining parties and dance classes.
 
To appease her parents, she still bothered to attend all of the Upper East Side parties-
and at Cameron DiVello's 11th, she was spoken to for the first time by a short, pixie-like girl named Ashley Hartman.
Although she didn't tell Alex, she became vaguely interested in moving up on their charts.
 
STAGE 2: GOOD GIRL GONE BAD
Song- Gods and Monsters// Lana Del Rey
"Fu.ck yeah, give it to me,
this is Heaven, what I truly want,
is innocence lost."
 
Alex started hanging out with the wrong people- a small "gang" of dead-heads who also resisted their parents, which he felt he had to do. Elena soon started following him there, and got mixed up in all sorts of trouble.
 
She smoked weed for the first time at 14, had sex at 15, and had injected heroin at 16. This is the past that she runs from- she will rarely ever tell anyone what happened to her during the 3 years (14-17) that she was hanging out with the ring-leader Max and all of the other nameless people, but any mention of it scares her to death.
 
STAGE 3: GOOD GONE GIRL
Song- Pursuit of Happiness by Kid Cudi
'Crush a bit, little bit, roll it up, take a hit
Feelin’ lit feelin’ light, 2 am summer night."
//
"I'm on the pursuit of happiness and I know everything that shine ain't always gonna be gold."
 
During this time, she had her first boyfriend, Spencer Del Fronte (FACT: I started writing for MMN at this time awhhh C: That was, what, two and a half years ago??!) Spencer didn't know about her habits in the gang, and never asked, so she never told.
 
Spencer was a B-Lister who Elena scored by being brainy and having a certain "I-don't-care" sex appeal- and being worth multi-million dollars.
 
Alex Rivera was off at college in Oxford, so Elena tried to make her own way, especially away from Max and the drugs, since she was super young, anyway.
 
Anyway- the public breakup.
It scored her attention from Queen Cameron DiVello and Gossip Girl, promoting her to a lower-lister herself.
Everyone wanted to know-
why isn't this girl interested in the UES?
 
Her and Cameron began to speak occasionally, and she was infrequently invited to events, parties, and what have you. They knew her name, at least.
 
Then everything changed when the Fire Nation attacked.
And by Fire Nation, I mean Alex's penis.
 
Elle was 17 now, and Alex shocked everyone by returning home from college on a whim. Although Elle was furious, she was more happy to see her brother. Alex, on the other hand, was annoyed that Elena was making her way in the Upper East Side that he had so adamantly rejected.
 
Elle promised him that it wasn't as bad as he had made it out to be, but he didn't believe that in the slightest-
until he ran into the queen on a street corner, and two years of history began.
 
Although the Elle/Cam friendship began as one of Cam's ploys to get closer to Al, they actually ended up becoming best friends- and now they're more like sisters.
 
And CAMLEX WAS BORN!
 
Elena had a few, odd hookups-
Robert Samuels (who was just trying to make Cam jealous), some random guy from the beach, a bartender named Jack-
anyone infrequent who would probably break her heart.
 
It was official by now-
Elena Rivera was a name people knew.
Complete with her own Gossip Girl page.
 
STAGE 4: GEORGELENA
Song- American by Lana Del Rey
"You were like, tall, tan, drivin' 'round the city
Flirtin' with the girls like, "You're so pretty."
"Springsteen is the king, don't you think?"
I was like, "Hell yeah, that guy can sing."
 
One day, Al casually mentioned that his friend, George, was coming to visit him for a few days,
and that he had a pretty popular band-
maybe you've heard of it, Elles,
One Night Only?
 
George stayed at the Rivera penthouse for a couple weeks while he got his affairs in order,
and ended up buying an apartment with his band mates in Brooklyn.
 
He was tall, gorgeous, liked good music, was funny, and gorgeous, and tall, and well dressed, and gorgeous.
 
After a couple weeks of sexual tension,
Elle was like w/e Alex,
and they finally hooked up.
 
Although Alex was mad about it-
he eventually gave up,
and the two best-friend couples lived in harmony for a time.
 
STAGE 5: POST BREAK-UP CRAZINESS
Song- Love is a Laserquest// Arctic Monkeys
"Don't worry I'm sure that you're still breaking hearts
With the efficiency that only youth can harness
And do you still think love is a laserquest
Or do you take it all more seriously?"
 
George and Elles moved to England, until it stopped working and after a very tearful breakup, she moved home.
 
She radically cut all of her hair off, and dabbled into weed again, and decided not to even bother with men, anymore.
 
She had a few casual hookups, of course-
(Nate Carters in a desperate Valentine's Day episode, anyone?)
but she wasn't too keen to commit to anything.
 
She graduated high school and moved on to Verona,
where she met a rocker named Dom-
and finally started creeping back to her normal self.
 
Alex bought a record shop, her parents came back from the dead, and she was smoking marijuana regularly by now.
She was finally becoming happy and young again,
and her life was basically drama-free.
 
Until Alex Rivera crashed his car and lost his memory.
Oop.
 
He woke up with no recollection of the past two years,
and Elle devoted a lot of her time to visiting him in the hospital and trying to help him remember.
 
Then one day, George showed up.
They instantly reconnected and it wasn't long before Georgelena was reborn,
and Dom was out of her life- a bit, anyway,
since her attraction for him lingered.
 
STAGE 5: BE YOUNG, BE DOPE, BE WILD
Song- Life On the Nickel// Foster the People
"I've got the worst all behind me
Yeah, they'll never be able to find me
I'm the king of the city
I'm a roach and they're all primates
This is meal time
Real life
I'm not gonna fight
No, I'm not gonna start a war"
 
Elle and George broke up again after he realized that her affections for Dom still lingered,
but since then Dom has gotten together with her ex-roommate, Sasha, and Elle has realized that she feels nothing but love for George.
 
Alex has started dating Ashley Hartman.
 
She smokes again,
but it's her own choice, this time.
 
Although she's till impulsive and passionate,
she's no longer out of bounds-
 
She's Elena Rivera,
bi.tch.

here is al's p.o.v of england!
wee!
enjoy!
comment!
love me!
i love you!
 
you & i// arctic monkeys
 
ALSO ALSO ALSO
CAN WE TAKE A MINUTE
TO APPRECIATE HOW DAMN ATTRACTIVE LIL WATSON IS
 
THE TOP TO PICTURES
YUM
 
Alexander Hamilton Rivera.
 
December 14th;
"The engines running,
can't deicide if I should ride away."
 
"You do realize that you're an idiot," she said,
and I could picture the annoyed look on her face even through the receiver of a telephone.
 
I was lazily flipping through channels on the television,
uninterested in any of the stupid movies that were on,
and listening as Elle scolded me for not following Ashley to England.
 
"Elle, stop-" I said seriously,
"Just shut the f.uck up, you don't know what you're talking about."
 
I heard her sharp intake of breath,
and I knew that I was gonna get it.
I almost smiled waiting for her mental breakdown.
But then, she released it,
and just said- "Yeah."
 
I sighed, too,
and said-
"I've got to go, Elles. George is here."
 
"Bye, Al."
 
George collapsed on the chair in the corner,
already holding two Blue Moons from the fridge.
He threw one to me,
then opened his and drank most of it in one go.
 
I arched an eyebrow at him,
"Trouble in paradise?"
 
He shrugged,
"Producers want a new album and all I've got is a book of whiny songs about how much I love Elle. And this bird won't stop texting me."
 
I laughed-
at the last part.
The part about Elles still made me queasy.
 
"Is she hot?"
 
"Superbly."
 
"Then what's the problem?"
 
"She's not your fu.cking sister."
 
"Did you have sex with her?"
 
"A couple times."
 
"Was it.... satisfactory?"
 
He smiled and leaned forward,
resting his elbows on his knees,
"It was fantastic, mate."
 
"Then what is the /fuc.king/ problem?"
 
He sat for one thoughtful moment,
looking at nothing,
and reminding me of myself.
 
"Has Elle been with anyone?"
 
I arched an eyebrow,
"Do you really want to know?"
 
He shook his head,
and kept staring at something on the table-
which I later realized was a note Elle wrote to me that said
"Dear Alex,
you're a fu.cking moron. Go to England.
Love always,
Elles.
p.s- eat something other than cereal while I'm in Monaco, freak.'
in her curly handwriting.
 
"Not since Halloween," I told him,
"That was her last. That I know of, anyway."
 
He nodded,
then motioned toward the note and asked,
"What's she going on about there?"
 
I wished I could ball the note up in my hand and George would forgot that it existed,
because no one knew how much of a fu.cking idiot I was being more than I did.
 
But I sighed,
and said,
"Ash went to England with that band and she wanted me to go and I wouldn't."
 
"Why?"
 
I didn't have an answer,
so I said nothing-
I just looked at the empty beer bottle in my hand.
 
He was leaning back in his chair,
chucking softly.
 
"Alex, I'm sure Elle has already told you this, but you're bein' daft."
 
"I know-"
 
"No, man, you don't." He was surprisingly frustrated as he put his bottle sharply on the table and said, "You love her and you're just givin' it up, man. You're throwing in the towel before the game has even started and you're bein' pathetic."
 
"George, what the fu.ck-"
 
"No, Al! Listen. Do you think she's just gonna go run around England with whatever the fu.ck boy band and not rekindle her old flame?"
 
"I-"
 
"She chose you, Al. Why aren't you choosing her back?"
 
For a moment,
I felt like he had Elena in a little bud,
talking to him through his ear and telling him what to say.
 
And then I realized,
he was giving himself advice, too.
 
I sighed,
and nodded,
"You're right."
 
There was a moment of silence,
and then he smiled,
as his phone buzzed-
 
"Is that the chick who won't leave you alone?"
 
He was smiling at the screen as he said,
"Uh, it's a chick."
 
I rolled my eyes,
because I knew exactly who it was.
 
"Well tell her to come home and watch the shop, because it looks like I'm off to England."
 
"'Atta boy," George said,
still smiling.
 
I was packed within the hour,
and on the plane in 3.
 
Even then,
I wouldn't be able to get to her
until the next day.
 
I had six hours of flying-
an overnight flight to Heathrow.
 
What was I going to say?
 
/Sorry I am a giant fu.ck up but I love you/
/You're really hot/
/Sorry sorry sorry/
/Fu.ck/
 
I was scribbling in a notepad
all of the things I could possibly say-
ranging from bursting out in song
to breaking down in tears.
 
Somewhere along the line,
I fell asleep,
and dreamed of drowning in the River Thames.
 
December 15th;
"I had a woman,
she went away."
 
To say it was weird,
barging into a house of strangers,
is an understatement.
 
To say that walking into a house of people who hate you doesn't make your confident smirk falter
is hogwash.
 
I was standing in the hallway,
being gawked at like a museum creature.
 
"Alex, right?"
 
Effie Dumont asked me that-
I knew her, I knew everything about her,
I /liked/ her-
and she didn't know my name.
Or at least, she pretended not to.
 
"Yeah, that's my name. Do I need to wear a name tag or do you think you can remember it?"
 
I could feel George shoving me for saying that,
but instead was greeted with Effie's dull, hating eyes,
and that was enough.
 
I almost apologized,
but instead stood up straighter-
 
And that was the tone of the day,
all the way into the night,
when Ashley and I were finally alone-
finally together, together,
and her soft skin was warm and her smile
was warmer.
 
"I knew you'd come,"
she said confidently.
 
She was looking into my eyes with a playful smile,
and I was slowly melting into the bed but I would never let her know that.
 
"No you didn't."
 
Her eyebrows pulled together,
and she shook her head,
"I did too! You're weak, Mr. Rivera, weak!"
 
Her face suddenly became serious-
"I'm serious, though, I'm really happy to see you."
 
I smiled and kissed her nose-
"I'm happy to see you, too."
 
She was giggling,
and I was laughing,
and I just wanted to kiss her-
 
so I did,
a lot of times.
 
And her skin felt so smooth on my rough hands,
and her lips so warm on my cold shoulders.
 
We tried to keep quiet,
and giggled each time a moan escaped from either pair of lips-
as we melted slowly into each other,
and I tried to undress her in more ways than just her clothes-
because, if anything, Ashley was a mystery.
 

December 16th, 2012;
"I like the way you look at me,
baby."
 
Cam's new boyfriend has braces.
 
He's also really passive aggressive,
a fact that I find really annoying.
 
Also whatever happened to the band that made them all wake up on the wrong side of the bed that morning was definitely a shame,
because I had actually planned on getting to know the guys,
despite George's rants against them.
 
They were singing one of my favorite songs,
but I somehow felt that I shouldn't join-
so I stared at my plate and hummed under my breath.
 
It was like high school at Monroe but amplified.
 
It was stupid,
honestly.
 
"Oi Nialler!
It's your girl!"
 
I exchanged a look with Ash-
I was trying to tell her everything I felt for her,
everything I hid from her,
but she just looked distant, shocked, and scared.
 
I didn't listen to the rest of lunch,
and I probably looked like a fool,
staring around,
thinking deeply.
 
I shouldn't have come.
 
Cam pulled out a cigarette,
which soon became four-
all in a row, all poisoning her innocent face.
 
Niall just looked around happily,
singing, dancing, constantly moving-
I felt my protective instincts rise up into my throat.
 
I took a long drink of water.
 
We spent the rest of the day sightseeing-
but not really, since we were all accustomed to London.
 
I held Ashley's hand weakly,
and tried to get her to look at me-
to really look at me.
 
She was uninterested-
answering with "yes"
"no"
"oh"
"ha".
 
And meanwhile Cam had finished a whole pack of cigarettes,
and Effie Dumont was unhappily trailing 20 feet behind everyone else.
 
I began to think that I was the only sane person present,
and even that was a stretch.
 
And that night,
as Ashley and I laid in bed together again,
there was no smile on her face.
 
Her eyes were deep and worried and thoughtful,
her lips were tightly closed,
and she soon fell into an uneasy sleep.
 
I, on the other hand,
couldn't sleep-
I stared at the ceiling,
cursing Elle and George and Cam,
cursing all of it.
 
At 4 in the morning,
I stalked out into the kitchen,
to get a glass of water.
 
There was a collection of noises coming from the kitchen,
strange and frantic,
and I found Cam's new boyfriend attacking a plate of toast on the island.
 
"Er, hey, man," I said lowly,
grabbing a glass and filling it,
"Hungry?"
 
He looked down,
then up-
"Ye, I 'ad a very busy night with Cams."
 
Despite myself,
I laughed-
at the bits of toast in his braces,
and how he was trying to make me jealous,
and how all I could think about was Ashley in the other room.
 
And I sighed,
and sat down across from him-
deciding that for once I should take the high road.
 
"Look, man," I said,
"I'm sorry. For everything. And I am happy for you and Cam. Honestly. Me coming here wasn't meant to be malicious or to make everything weird, it was just because I care about Ashley and I wanted to surprise her."
 
He looked at me carefully,
then nodded,
"Yer not so bad," he said,
"I dunno why Cams complains about ye so much."
 
"Trust me, it's warranted."
 
"Ye know Lou's got a thing for Ash,"
he said.
 
I nodded solemnly,
"And I feel bad for him. But-"
 
He pushed his plate toward me,
sacrificing a piece of the toast he had made,
which I took.
 
"Let me ask ye one thing," he said,
"Do ye love 'er?"
 
The answer was obvious,
like it was written in her smile,
and magnified in her smile,
"Yeah. I suppose I do."
 
"And you," I said,
"You love Cam?"
 
He nodded,
and I could see it in his eyes,
the same look I had before,
complete intoxication-
"More den anythin'."
 
I smirked,
and bit off of my toast-
"Good."
 
December 17th;
"Please don't go and
turn out the lights."
 
Niall must have said something,
because the band wasn't nearly as distant the next morning,
apart from Louis who stayed quiet.
 
Niall ate twice,
keeping our toast-talk a secret.
I didn't say anything,
but also didn't know how such a small guy could have such a big appetite.
 
Ash was happier the next morning,
and she held my hand under the table as we ate.
 
I felt peaceful here,
finally.
 
And as everyone stood to get dressed-
I made an unusual request-
"Cammie," I said, "Can I talk to you?"
 
She looked panicked-
and her glance went to Niall,
who nodded,
so she sat in the chair beside mine as everyone exited the kitchen.
 
Ashley kissed me softly before she left,
and I smiled.
 
Cam put a mug of coffee down before me-
black, in a plain white mug,
and I smiled at her memory,
at the little things she did that said 'I still care' even when she wouldn't say it herself.
 
"Cammie," -she flinched at the name,
"Sh.it, Cam, I'm sorry."
 
She looked confused.
 
"I, uh, I was an a.ss. A giant fu.cking piece of fu.ck and I'm sorry for that."
 
She nodded,
once.
Permission to go on.
 
"I just had to sort everything out. And I realized that I was blaming you for my own problem and I'm sorry that I was such a di.ck to you, because you're a cool chick and one of my best friends."
 
She nodded,
three times this time.
 
Her eyes were scanning me,
and I felt nervous,
like I was under examination.
 
"Look, I'm sorry about Ash. I know it hurt you. I know /I/ hurt you and Elle hurt you and everyone just hurt you and that sucks but she's making me happy and I'm trying my hardest to do the same for her. And I hope to whatever there is up there that Niall is making you happy."
 
She waited a moment,
then smiled,
and said-
"What a big boy you've become."
 
I smirked,
then took a section of her hair in my fingertips,
"This looks good."
 
She looked down,
embarrassed as usual when I compliment her,
and shrugged-
"It was impulsive."
 
"The best things always are."
 
And when she looked up at me,
I winked playfully,
and she giggled.
 
"Yeah, Al," she said,
"I think we can be friends."
 
I fake bowed and said,
"It is my honor, Princess."
 
She smiled and pulled out a cigarette,
lighting it carefully,
and I pulled it out of her mouth.
 
She grabbed for it,
but I took a drag,
and said,
"Why are you doing this?"
 
"Al, that's not funny give that back."
 
"Why, though, Cam?"
I said, releasing the smoke through my lips,
then putting it back between them.
 
She shrugged,
"It's not a big deal."
 
"It is to me."
 
When Ash reentered the room,
I put a happy arm around her,
and planted a kiss on the side of her head,
giving Cam a look that said
'we'll finish this later'.
 
"Everything okay?"
She asked.
 
"It is now,"
I whispered into her ear.
 
I still had three words hanging on my lips-
that threatened to escape every time I saw Ashley Hartman's smile-
but that was very, very dangerous.
 
"I'm going to take a shower," Ashley said as I sat lazily on the bed that night,
reading a book.
 
She paused in the doorway-
"You're coming, right?"
 
I stood way too enthusiastically,
following her into the bathroom and slowly stripping her clothes of,
then mine as she turned on the water.
 
I massaged shampoo onto her head,
then made it look like she had a mohawk-
and she put a cloud of it on my nose,
giggling like a child.
 
"Wanna know a secret?"
She pushed her body against mine,
and I was so done-
as my hands found her hips and her mouth found my ear.
 
She knew just how to play me-
just how to break me,
and make me her's completely,
while maintaining an evil sort of composure,
even with soap on her nose.
 
She nibbled on it lightly then said,
"Cam and I hooked up in a bathtub once."
 
I closed my eyes,
and tried to keep myself from collapsing-
because that thought,
that visual,
was almost too much to handle.
 
"You evil girl," I said
as she kissed my neck.
 
I ran a hand down her back,
and pulled her tightly into me-
 
Steam was filling the bathroom,
making a hot shower even
hotter.
 
- AHR.
 
(lol i did not know how to end that
@vampire-weakend i was SO CLOSE to a threesome..... SO CLOSE.)

happy new year, all!!
i hope it was great!
 
here's some elle for ya!!
yay!!
 
also i'm going to see the vaccines on feb. 1st AH
 
okay well i hope ya like this!
it gets a bit crazy but w/e.
 
wolf at the door// radiohead
 
AH
I LOVE HALLOWEEN
THIS IS MAKING ME REMEMBER HALLOWEEN
AH
 
-------------
 
10/31/2012;
"Dragging out your dead
singing I miss you."
 

"Boo!" I said enthusiastically,
jumping into the kitchen and immediately into Sailor Moon's signature pose-
expecting Alex to be fully suited up as well.
 
My face fell when I discovered him unwrapping a frozen dinner,
still shirtless and wearing sweats.
 
"Last time I checked, that's not what F. Scott Fitzgerald looked like.... I mean christ, Al, all ya had to do was put on a suit and glasses and carry a copy of The Great Gatsby."
 
He shot me a death glare, clearly not in the mood to talk, and watched as his chicken and broccoli spun in circles under the heat of the microwave.
 
"Al, seriously, you're being a baby."
 
"That's not my life, Elles."
 
"Then what is?! Sitting around eating plastic chicken and plastic broccoli and listening to records and smoking weed and being Mr. Mope Mope?"
 
He looked over again,
and this time he was smiling,
"Mr. Mope Mope?"
 
"An accurate description."
 
He nodded as the microwave dinged, and he pulled out the black plastic tray, cursing as it scorched his skin.
 
"Come on, Al, you don't even have to dress up. Just come. It'll be fun!"
 
He considered it a moment, then nodded toward the costume I was wearing, "Is George still dressing like Tuxedo Mask?"
 
I shrugged,
"We bought these costumes a long time ago. I doubt he remembers."
 
"You remembered."
 
After a half hour of arguing, Alex agreed to wear a brown tweed jacket and bowtie, but said he wouldn't tell anyone who asked that he was the Doctor, since that made it lame.
 
I rolled my eyes, but,
this was better then microwaved dinner.
 
The elevator rang at 8,
and George walked in, dressed like Maverick from Top Gun.
 
A part of my mind flashed back to before we broke up,
to the day we found Sailor Moon and Tuxedo Mask costumes in an old shop in Soho and called it fate-
but that day was not this day.
 
"Hello Serena, Doct-ah!" He said happily.
 
I looked over and Alex,
who was looking at me with suspicious eyes,
and smiled.
 
"You look good, Maverick," I said.
 
Whoever decided that putting Fireball Whisky in my flask was a good idea was a brilliant person.
Oh, wait, that was me.
 
By the time we arrived at this year's Halloween gathering,
I was already buzzed,
and the music was buzzing.
 
I had one arm around George and the other around Alex, having to walk on my tip-toes since they are both taller than me by a sizeable amount.
There was a light, goofy smile on my face as I waved into the cameras and smiled at the long line of lower-listers who were hoping to get into the party at some point.
 
One of the guys was actually pretty cute.
I shot him a playful wink.
 
About 20 feet from the door,
George stopped cold in his tracks.
His muscles were tense and his eyes became dark like ash after a fire.
 
His eyes were glaring at someone who was lingering outside,
a lost B-lister who probably wouldn't be getting into the party tonight.
 
In a flash, George was trying to attack Spencer Del Fronte,
and Alex was restraining him.
 
"Get out a 'ere!" George screamed,
angrier than I had seen him in a while.
 
Alex was holding him back,
whispering "George, calm down, it's not worth it. He's scum."
 
"George!" I felt myself calling.
 
Through the booze goggles, I was confused, almost excited. I thought that somehow this wasn't real life, no one would get hurt.
 
I was Sailor Moon,
and Tuxedo Mask was defending my honor-
but then I remembered he dressed up like Maverick.
 
After a moment of struggling-
George jerked away from Alex's restraint and walked quickly into the party.
 
"You okay, Elles?"
 
My head sharply turned to meet Alex's gaze upon hearing my name,
and I nodded-
"Cool as a cucumber."
 
Although he tried to hide it as we walked past,
he gave Spencer the finger.
 
Inside the party was the usual mix of loud music, strong booze, and spoiled teenagers-
it was everything I loved about the Upper East Side in one room.
 
I was greeted,
snapped in photos,
smiling for selfies with people I didn't even know,
and handed countless red solo cups-
before I even saw Cam and Ash.
 
A martini was slipped into my hand and a husky voice whispered "it's shaken, not stirred".
I turned around to see Nate Carters in a suit-
looking pretty much like his usual self but quoting James Bond movies to make people get it.
 
I laughed and hugged him tightly-
"Nate! I feel like we haven't spoken in-"
 
He cut me off, holding up a finger in frustration,
"The name's Bond. James Bond."
 
I rolled my eyes.
"Right. Okay. I'm.... Serena? Sailor Moon, technically...."
 
He smiled and hit my shoulder playfully,
"Nah, I'm just kidding, ya look great kid!" He was being pulled in many different directions, so he pointed at the drink he gave me as he left and said, "Enjoy that!"
 
I toasted it in the direction he went,
said "Trust me, I will",
and drank my first greedy sip.
 
I found Matt lingering around a couch,
and, in my state, I walked up to him and held out a hand.
"Elena Rivera," I said as he shook it, "I don't believe we've officially met, yeah?"
 
"I know you," he said with a smirk,
"Pillow talk."
 
He winked,
I rolled my eyes.
 
"Pig."
 
We sat on the couch and talked quietly-
about nothing in particular,
until Ashley appeared, with a scarlet letter A on her outfit.
 
"Damn Ash," I said,
almost spilling my wine,
"You have some balls."
 
I had been there for a brief amount of time but I was already exhausted.
So, I retired to the bar, where a lonely pilot was talking to a long-legged witch with a very pointy hat.
 
George was always so charming.
 
"Anything to drink, Miss Rivera?"
 
I waved a hand and shook my head.
But at the mention of my name, George abandoned the witch and turned to me.
 
"Elles!"
His breath smelled like vodka,
and his smile looked like rum.
 
I smiled sadly,
because expectation next to reality can be a cruel mistress.
 
"Enjoying your night?"
 
"That girl likes my band!" He pointed at the witch, who was still eyeing him from the corner. She seemed pleased to see him talking about her.
 
I nodded,
"I'm sure a lot of people here do, Georgie."
 
He bit his lip and smiled.
looking more boyish than ever.
It was ripping my heart to pieces.
 
"Remember when we dated?" He said suddenly,
his words slurring and caked in drunken tone.
 
"/What?!/" I said in false surprise, "We.... we DATED?"
 
For a moment, his face contorted with confusion, but then he smiled and took a long swig of beer, "Shut the fu.ck up."
 
Matt and Cam approached the bar,
Cam greeting me with an "Oh heeeeeeeey!" and one of her wings coming dangerously close to poking my eye out.
Irony.
 
Cam nestled herself in my neck,
and it became clear that I wasn't near drunk enough to be at this party.
 
"You smell nice!"
 
I smiled,
smelling her skin which actually reeked of the martini Nate had handed me earlier,
"You're piss drunk."
 
"No, I'm glad you came."
 
It was then that I realized that I hadn't been there lately-
not for Cam, at least.
 
I was pondering that thought,
when Cam suddenly jerked her head up from my neck,
and said something cynical to Ashley-
who, ironically, was trying to elicit that response.
 
"C'mon, Cam...." I said,
in a motherly way,
as I handed her off to Matt and sat back at the bar.
 
The party became a series of chaotic episodes-
I tried to chug one of Cam's classic cauldrons, falling backward into a blonde boy's arms and giving him a kiss on the cheek in thanks, Nate handed me a bowl and I took a greedy hit, then tried to teach him how to blow smoke circles, George and I danced, and I even said something that wasn't completely terrible to Robert Samuels.
 
"I like your costume. It's fitting to your awful personality."
 
Okay, well, it started off as a compliment.
He was, after all, the most devilish of them all.
 
I was walking toward the kitchen when I felt a hand pulling me and saying- "Elena! Elena!"
 
I turned to see George,
looking at me with serious eyes,
burning with embers.
 
"Elena I love you,"
he said softly.
 
I didn't get a chance to respond before a shriek filled the room,
and the power went out-
the whole room swallowed by a thick black.
 
People started moving,
I lost George somewhere in the mix.
 
I inched my way back to the bar,
moving past Nate who whispered "Heeeeeeeere's Sandy!" in my ear.
 
Cameron and Matt were still by the bar,
and Rob was soon approaching me and lighting the candle that I held in my hand.
 
The orange flame played on his hands, making his dark eyes appear to be two large black holes, and his horns shined more red than they were earlier.
 
"Kind of.... intimate, don't you think?"
 
I rolled my eyes,
"Hellish, really."
 
"It's SAAAA-ND-YYYYYY!" Nate called as the power flicked on,
and he was standing above the crowd,
as if he were flying.
 
I pointed and laughed-
"Look! Nate!"
 
And then,
off again.
 
There were more screams.
People held each other tightly.
 
I saw a pair of wings disappearing out the door,
followed by a shadow of a man,
and a scarlet letter A shining brightly in my candle disappeared into the kitchen,
and Nate was screaming wildly,
and someone was filming it.
 
I smiled,
a sudden rush from high school days coursing through my brains.
 
I stood on the stool,
clinking a fork against my glass,
making some people jump,
and screamed-
"A TOAST TO SANDY!"
 
"COME ON, ALL,
RAISE YOUR FU.CKING GLASSES!"
Nate joined in,
coaxing everyone to feel the same rush we felt.
 
"LET'S GET WEIRD!"
someone shouted,
and the party went wild.
 
A car was racing down the street,
as the power came back on but the lights stayed off,
the whole party painted in black.
 
Two cars were filled with youthful energy- an angel and her steed-
as the music turned loud-
a dubstep remix of This Is Halloween.
 
And I found a pirate man,
with muscles and shaggy blonde hair,
and I pressed my lips hard as his hands found my hips,
and ripped my tights on my thigh.
 
And everything was so wrong,
so grotesque and broken and odd.
 
And as I danced in the dark,
a police man's lights lit up in pursuit of those that car,
and watched it crash.
 
This
is
Halloween.
 
- xx, e.