dahliarchives

[dahliarchives]

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When the Easter bunny meets a playmate..

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— BAYER, S.

PRAVDA NIGHT CLUB, DOWNTOWN

Body shots. You either love them, or hate them. In Spencer’s case, he used to love them, hated them now. As, probably, every other person that had been to at least one frat party during college. There was some sort of party going on to his right – whether it was a bachelor party, or something else, he didn’t know. But it sure as hell was fun to watch. “All drinks on me if you somehow manage to get them to do a body shot off of you.”

Dahlia didn’t need to be told twice. Spencer had probably thought she’d decline the challenge, seeing as the thought only of having one those drunk frat dudes touching her was revulsing enough but she wouldn’t be Dahlia Romano and pass up on free drinks for a night. Plus, backing down from such an innocent challenge would have once made her laugh and so she saw no other choice but to pull up her shirt and reveal her stomach, winking at Spencer before walking towards the loud crowd. Noticing her only made the sound explode and before she knew it, she’d been hauled onto the bar and laid on her back, one of them carefully pouring gin into her belly button and just like that, the whole thing was already done. A few high fives here and a few winks there and Dahlia was already sitting back beside her friend, a glorious smile stretched onto her lips. “I’ll start off with a gin and tonic if you don’t mind,” the brunette trailed, obviously proud of herself.  

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starter delivery for @lucasxreeves

“Look what I brought,” Dahlia mused, nodding at the expensive bottle of red she’d stolen from her parents’ wine cellar. The brunette wasted no time kicking off her shoes by the door and making her way into Lucas’ apartment the second he opened up as if it had been her own apartment. She’d become used to the place, between the late night movie marathons, the sleepless nights discussing possible pieces and exchanging sketches and the evenings filled with ethanol, the place was now known territory. Now that she was back for good and her stuff had been moved from her Los Angeles penthouse to her new loft in town, Dahlia had really felt like she was back for good and had decided to celebrate with a new tattoo which had been the excuse she’d given her tattoo artist as to why she would invade his apartment for the evening. 

Placing the bottle on the counter, she walked over to the living room and dropped her bag on the couch before immediately sitting down to the ground and reaching over to the folder she’d brought along, containing different ideas and sketches. “You have some cover-ups to do,” she informed him, looking up from her piles of paper. “That one asshole in Hollywood really fucked up one of my thigh pieces.”

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— OWENS, N.

             “That doesn’t ease my worries, Dal!” It was then that Naomi’s eyes widened and she looked back toward her cousin, feigning both a look of shock and complete horror. She did so to put off the implication that going for a joyride along beside her was the worst thing in the world —- Dahlia wasn’t the worst driver, so the teasing was just for the heck of it. Plus, her cousin made for an easy target. Unable to hold it for long, Naomi let out a laugh and bent over to unzip her shorter boots and toss them into the bin with the other pairs, knowing the rule of the house with being around for years now. As she padded on into the kitchen, Naomi looked back toward Dahlia over her shoulder, plucking up a few magazines to peer over on the counter idly. “You forgot about my child already? She or he isn’t even here yet, and you’re forgetting about them already? Talk about worst auntie award.” The huff that escaped her mouth was also playful, but she did so as she dropped down onto one of the stools, relieved that she was off her feet for the day. That though… that she couldn’t help but chuckle over. “What doesn’t it remind me of?” She scrunched her nose. “It reminds me of really bad hangovers we had to hide and bad decisions.” 

“Not gon’ lie to you babe, as long as it doesn’t have a name, it’ll be calling it Mini-Naomi and will most likely forget about it from time to time,” she admitted with a shrug, her tone as casual as could be. “Doesn’t mean I won’t love Mini-Naomi, though. It’ll just get less attention than his mommy. For now. After you can rest assured, the roles will be inverted and I’ll completely forget about you and team up with your little bean,” she explained as if it was the most obvious science. Of course, no such thing would happen, Dahlia’s heart held enough love to assure Naomi and her future children a lifetime of hovering but for now, feigning would do. Finally finding an unopened bottle of grape juice in the back of the fridge, she poured her cousin a glass full of the purple liquid and repeated her gesture, this time pouring herself white wine to the time. Sitting by the stool next to hers, a small sigh escaping her lips and she chuckled at Naomi’s words. “Can you imagine if your kid behaves the way we did? I’ll have to hurry and give this little nephew or niece of mine a partner in crime and watch them turn our lives into a living hell like we did our parents’,” 

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— TAYLOR, W. 

             Well, now he was screwed. William left the table and in turn left Weston completely helpless sitting there with his sister. He didn’t recognize this woman much more than being related to his friend or Naomi — her visage didn’t even jog much memory but he knew he should know. In a sense, he was panicking. There was a guilt ridden feeling in his gut that he forgot someone he once knew. Making a face, almost like he was wincing, Weston adjusted his weight in his seat and turned to smile politely back at Dahlia. He was still trying to jog his memory, really trying… but nothing. “Stacey… yeah.” Weston repeated the name as if that may have jogged the memory, but was far as he knew, the only Stacey he was aware of was another mother to one of Jake’s baseball mom’s. God, had he really overlooked that much. “Remind me what party that was again? Clearly, I might have had one too many Bud Light’s that night.” It was a subtle way to portray that he did not remember that night, without fully giving away that he didn’t remember her. He was still looking like a deer in the headlights. So, he attempted to steer the conversation elsewhere, clearing his throat. “I’ve heard you’ve moved back. You likin’ being around home again?”

When she’d first come back to town, the rumors had been endless. Residents all over town had their say in Dahlia’s situation, from dreamy young women glad whose hopes had been crushed to shameful grandmas, disapproving of her alleged drug addictions and affairs. Dahlia knew that there were plenty of things she could have picked up from Los Angeles, including a drug problem but she’d left all of that behind. The only thing she hadn’t seem to be able to part ways with was, funnily enough, the only thing she’d first brought along to the big city. Her acting. Everyone close enough to the woman knew never to fully trust her when her eyes sparkled the way they did now that they were locked with the man’s before her and the brunette was glad he didn’t know her, after all. She could tell from the uncertain tremble in his voice and the way he frowned ever so slightly that he, in fact, had no idea what she’d been talking about. “It was right before I left for L.A,” she attempted as if that would help him remember in any way this fictitious party they’d both attended. “It’s okay, you were pretty drunk after all. I just can’t believe you don’t remember what we did,” she lingered, wanting her tone to be as suggestive as possible. 

The obvious attempt to drift from the subject made it all the more fun for the woman who did not know when to stop playing. “It’s been great,” she lied through her teeth, her features now completely passive. She wouldn’t venture any further, knowing that the subject itself would be enough to bring tears to her eyes. “Couldn’t miss being an auntie again. Plus, is there really anything better than this town?” 

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— RAMIREZ, S. 

  He was out of practice, out of shape, so after losing to a friendly game, Scott tried one last time to kick the ball into the back of the net; back in the day he was tipped to be the next big striker, but in 2019 he could barely remember how to play… His friends were gone and the net was empty, it was an easy target for anyone with semi-decent vision, so as he swung his foot into the ball at full strength and managed to miss the goal, Scott there semi-amused before it fell straight on someone’s head. “Oh, shit—” He could hear the impact from the other side, sprinting over to the person to ensure he hadn’t inflicted too much damage. “Are you okay? I’m sorry, I haven’t played in…” The man paused to think about when he last actually played a game, “Six months?” That wasn’t the point, he needed to be more careful.

Trying one new thing a day. That had been her goal since Dahlia had come back from Los Angeles, a desperate attempt at a fresh start and a failing distraction from what had forced her back home. Still, quitting wasn’t in her vocabulary and so when she’d read ‘running at the park’ on the list of things to try that morning, she reluctantly laced her jogging shoes and stepped out into the beautiful Wilmington weather. At first, everything had seemed to turn out fine and the brunette found herself enjoying her little run. As she was starting her second tour, however, she felt something hit the back of her head — very hard. The impact sent her to the floor and she let out a strangled scream as she hit the synthetic grass.  

A man’s voice quickly followed and she wanted to chuckle at the stranger’s words, amused by the weak apology. “I can tell,” she let out, amused. Whoever she’d been expecting as she looked up, Scott Ramirez definitely wasn’t it. Taken aback by the sight before her, Dahlia shook her head but that only resulted in a faint pain in the back of her head and she winced, placing her hand on her head. “It must have hit my head really hard because I’m seeing things now,” she let out, unsure. “You look exactly like a guy I used to have a crush on back in high school,” the actress scoffed, trying to get back on her feet without much success. 

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 — FITZPATRICK, S.

          Tall, tatted, and with eyes you’d gladly drown in, Dahlia (yet to offer a last name) was proof positive that Tinder wasn’t always a joke— and nobody was more surprised than Syd. When she arrived at the bar her expectation’s hadn’t been low… but they hadn’t been very high, either. It’d been too long. She’d been too uninterested. The idea of getting back out there, even just for a few drinks, felt like pulling teeth. It’s why she’d put it off for months and laughed any time one of her friends made the suggestion. Now, eyeing the other brunette through a thick fringe of lashes, she could’ve kicked herself for the reluctant delay. Dahlia wasn’t just easy on the eyes, she was easy to get along with, too. Who would’ve guessed? “I can’t believe you grew up here and we’ve never met.” Glass tipped toward her lips, ready to spill the liquor inside, Syd laughed, “I’m starting to think fate—” not that she believed in such a thing— “has it out for me. I’m ready to file a complaint.”

Tinder was supposed to be a last resort type of thing. After years of avoiding it in Los Angeles, Dahlia had thought that hooking up in Wilmington would have been just as easy but two months in and she was sure kids in high school were probably getting more action than she was. After a bottle of wine and a long internal debate, she finally caved and made herself an account, spending the rest of the night swiping left and right, trying to avoid everyone she knew. When she finally landed on the sexy brunette she was to meet that night, her decision was quickly made and she wasted no time setting up a date. 

Now that they were already a few drinks in, Dahlia couldn’t believe that she’d even hesitated on coming. Sydney had turned out to be the perfect company and not only because she was so pretty Dahlia would’ve happily taken her right then and there but her charismatic personality and general easygoing vibe couldn’t have fit more perfectly with the actress’. “Well, don’t get a lawyer just yet because it’s not that simple. I was in Los Angeles for like, eight years and I just came back,” she shrugged, downing the rest of her drink. To add to her charms, Sydney had turned out to be clueless about Dahlia’s identity and who she was and the brunette couldn’t have been more delighted by the news. “I guess I made the right decision..” she trailed, signing for the waiter for another right, her gaze however still locked with the female. 

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— OWENS, N.

            “Until my feet are bloody?” Naomi repeated her cousin’s words though in a much more drawn out tone, like she was over analyzing the sentence. “Dal, I’m pregnant! I may not be blown up yet, but who the heck knows in a few months? I’m already going to be dying on my feet keeping up with those kids in the classroom and you just signed me up for some extra tickets to hell.” She was teasing to tease, as Naomi didn’t mind one bit. The odds of her actually working herself to the bone underneath her principal were pretty rare (that woman loved Naomi) and a little extra time with her cousin was always warmly welcomed. In fact, Naomi didn’t get enough of it now that Dahlia was back in town. Naomi was blessed with a group of girlfriends in her corner, but her cousin was a whole other ballpark. She was family by blood, growing up beside Naomi. There was a whole other bond there that she knew she would cherish for the rest of her live. Smooshing her lips together, Naomi glanced back toward the brunette in the driver’s seat once the car had been pulled into the driveway just adjacent to her own childhood home, one she had still been living in. “Not without being sneaky, apparently.” She rolled her eyes jokingly. Despite the fact that she continued to tease Dahlia for the antics she got herself into, Naomi still caved into the plans her cousin made. “Yeah, maybe. How long has it been though? You easily formed your own habits —- I do no make a turn like that! It was a total four out of ten on the sharpness scale.” Her seatbelt was freed from her body and she moved to push the door open, stepping out and stretching her cramped back. “Can you believe I actually let you drive my baby back then?” God, she loved that Honda her father surprised her with on her seventeenth birthday. Tugging her purse up her arm to secure on her shoulder, the teacher rounded the front of the car and followed Dahlia on inside the home. “Do I wanna know how you managed to convince them all to get the heck outta here?”

“I still can’t believe you let me drive now, let alone back then,” Dahlia sneakered, unlocking the front door and carelessly throwing her shoes in the entrance. She’d done so countless of times before but something about being with Naomi here, almost ten years later, it simply felt right As if that is where she truly belonged. A simple giggle had been her reply to the lingering question, preferring to not discuss how she’d managed to bribe all four of her brothers in one day. Arranging dates with hot friends and gifting her nephews with brand new toys wasn’t the smartest way but it sure was the most efficient. 

Throwing her bag on the sofa, Dahlia made her way to the kitchen and headed straight to the cupboard, ready to break out a bottle of rosé before she paused, hitting her forehead with her palm. “Shoot,” she muttered, walking back to the fridge and opening it wide open. “I forgot about the little one. I don’t know if my parents left any juice behind, though,” the brunette let out, now rummaging through the kitchen, trying to find something for Naomi to drink. “I guess you’ll just have to watch me chug wine out of the bottle for the night,” she added, feigning a regretful tone but wiggling her eyebrows at the other. “Does that remind you of anything?”

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— BAYER, C.

When the woman said his name, he stared at her for a few moments and tried to remember who she was. Parts of him recognized her, but he couldn’t quite remember her name. “Yeah it is.” He stated simply before letting out of a deep huff. “Who are you?”

Dahlia immediately recognized the clueless look on Clay’s face as she’d been getting rather similar ones from pretty much everyone she’d tried to reconnect with since moving back to Wilmington and she closed her lips to prevent a small chuckle from escaping. The actress hadn’t changed that much in her opinion but seeing as puberty had done wonders to her body, as well as Los Angeles’ rather high lifestyle leaving its expensive scar on her, she couldn’t really blame the man. “Dahlia,” she trailed but then realized he would probably need more than her name. “Romano? I used to be friends with your sister? I was over at your place all the time! Short, frizzy hair, braces?” 

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— TAYLOR, W.

              Weston Taylor seemed to have a lot on his plate as of late and there was no indication that it was going to slow down. Not for a long while, at least. Between his job at the fire station to keep food on the table, his decision to return to school online to further his education for something better, then Jake and the issues at school… well, it was a lot. The southerner truly didn’t know how to handle the stress anymore other than bottling it up and attempting to navigate through yet another day. It was exhausting enough that it played on his personal life and pushed those within it away, but the stress of such was becoming pretty damn apparent and enough for his friends to take notice. He was distant, in his head, and had showcased that enough that a good friend from high school decided to prompt the idea of a night over drinks and food and he couldn’t exactly argue —- it was almost the exact recipe Weston needed. After all, a good cold one with a good conversation couldn’t do anything but bring a smile to someone’s face. So, he agreed, and found himself seated within the cozy wooden booth of his favorite bar in his hometown with a Braves baseball cap snug on his head and popping a few peanuts into his mouth from the jar on the table, laughing over a joke William dropped on the table while waiting for their third arrival. Truthfully speaking, Weston hadn’t known much more than the woman’s name and her relation to William and their cousin Naomi. He attempted to rack his brain for a memory, but he had to hang his head in defeat when he truly couldn’t place a face to a name. He had always prided himself on being that outgoing guy, but clearly that wasn’t the case here. The moment she had waltzed on up, though, he wasn’t sure how the hell he had missed such a vision.

             She recognized him. There was a kick to the gut, as the guilt began to churn in his stomach and he maintained a cool feat just so he didn’t completely lose it. He truly didn’t recognize her even if he knew he should —- yeah, it was terrible. Alas, being the gentleman that he was, Weston still cleared his throat and tilted his head up to nod his head toward the woman, painting on a half smile on his face. “Dahlia, right?” Weston briefly glanced toward William in hopes his face would reassure him that he had gotten his sister’s name right, before he returned his blue hues to her. “S’nice to have ya. Hope you don’t mind me intrudin’ the evenin’. I couldn’t pass up on this guy buyin’.”

Growing up surrounded by boys, Dahlia had learned a few tips and tricks over the years. Pairing that with natural intuition and a sharp sense of observation, she’d immediately noticed Weston’s initial clueless look when he’d first glanced up to her. Her suspicions were only confirmed as the man cleared his throat before his features relaxed and he shot her a small smile. He didn’t remember her. “That’s right,” she confirmed, placing her bag to her side and looking up to him. “I’m glad you remember,” she added softly, maintaining her gaze locked with his. Dahlia knew it wasn’t right to mess with Weston because after all, was he really to blame? Between her years spent following Naomi, the uncombed frizzy hair, the braces and the horrendous style she’d had all throughout her teenage years, it was no surprise that he wouldn’t recognize her. Still, the brunette had decided to have her fun with the situation, as if she owed it to her younger self. 

“That makes two of us,” she agreed with a smile, playfully nudging her brother. At the same moment, the waitress walked up to their table to take their order and William went outside to return a call from work, leaving Weston and Dahlia alone for a moment. Unable to pass on the opportunity to pursue her little game, the actress slid to he brother’s place and faced Weston, a devilish smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. “So tell me, how’s it been? I haven’t seen you since that night at Stacey’s birthday party like, eight years ago,” her tone as casual as could be, considering the statement was a blatant lie and she’d actually never attended such party. She wasn’t even sure they even knew a Stacey but it was a risk she was willing to take for the sake of her play. “What a night that was!” 

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—OWENS, N.

            “You made a deal with my principle? When did this happen?” Leave it to Dahlia to be completely sneaky, which prompted Naomi to shake her head a bit in amusement. She didn’t mind being kidnapped when her things were covered, which sounded like Dahlia had taken care of those matters. She knew she only had a little amount of time left before she was left to being stuck inside where being kidnapped wasn’t even possible —- so maybe for now, she would take advantage of it. “You’re so dang sneaky, lady. What the heck do you have up your sleeve?” With her brow arched, Naomi looked to the right and noticed her street name coming up in the distance, though reached out immediately for the handle above her to grasp onto. “You didn’t get any better with those left turns, I see!” She exhaled, shaking her head. “You’re taking me… home?”

“I told you, a week ago! I used my undeniable charisma and promised her you’d work until your feet were bloody to make it up and she said you were all mine,” the brunette explained, a smile taking over her features. Truth be told, getting Naomi for the afternoon had been easier than she’d thought as the principle had turned out to be quite a fan and instead of having to beg and bribe like she’d initially planned to, a simple autograph and a picture had sufficed. Dahlia did not mind though, as she’d probably would’ve done anything for that afternoon with Naomi and she’d been delighted to see things were just much more simple here in Wilmington. “Me? Sneaky? A cousin cannot kidnap her own for a little family time anymore?” the feigned offense clear in her tone as her smile grew wider before she slowed down and finally turned into her old driveway. 

“Remember who taught me how to drive before you start dissing my skills! And yes, I’m taking you home,” she replied, opening her door and making her way out of the car. “I had mom leave some of her famous pie this morning before they left and I told the boys to leave us the place. We’re having a girls’ party, just like before,” she finally declared, revealing her plan with a grin dancing on her lips, waiting for her cousin’s reaction. 

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starter delivery for @weston-taylor

Opening the door to the crowded bar, Dahlia was immediately hit with the strong smell of alcohol and greasy food. She paused momentarily, almost tempted to turn around and leave but not fast enough, she spotted her brother waving at her from one of the booths at the end of the small dinner section. Her disdain for such places had grown with the years, blame it on the radical change of lifestyle she’d experienced when she’d moved to Los Angeles but looking around her as she made her way to the table, the brunette realized that most of her best memories had been made in that exact spot, years prior, and she felt a twinge of guilt at her initial thoughts. 

Shaking it off quickly, her worry immediately vanished at the sight of her brother and calm washed over the way it did every time she was around William as her siblings tended to have that effect on her. “Hey, you,” she greeted, ready to sit on the opposite booth but as she looked down, she noticed a man sitting before her brother that she’d entirely missed and stepped back, apologizing. “Oh, sorry. I didn’t know we had company,” she let out, trying to get a look at the stranger from under his cap. As the man finally looked up, Dahlia’s traits eased immediately and her perplexed look turned into one of recognition. “Well, if it isn’t Weston Taylor himself. I should have known from the flannel,” she shook her head lightly, a small smirk pulling at the corners of her lips as she finally took a seat beside her brother. 

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💬 — TESSA S.

TESSA: God no, I threw that thing out the moment I saw it. It was covered in lint.

TESSA: I, um, won someone in the bachelor auction? I wasn’t even planning on bidding.

DAHLIA: oh my, what have you done

DAHLIA: i always wondered, isn't he now techinally your escort?....unimportant

DAHLIA: who is he? and oh god how much did you spend?