ofrcveries

[ofrcveries]

Steve Harrington in STRANGER THINGS 4.06

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all I do is listen to music and think about my silly little fictional people

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listen; when I say give me a toxic pairing I don’t mean ‘he’ll be mean and she’ll be sad about it’. I mean ‘he’ll be mean and she’ll set his fucking car on fire’ but ppl aren’t ready for that idk

[ofrcveries]

i use gavin leatherwood as a fc when

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you know what’s a good plot? hey we’re both at this party, our friends suck, we’re a little heartbroken, let’s spending the next twelve hours together, diving deep into our emotions and the shit wrong with us, let’s walk around this entire city just slowly falling in love with one another, and just as we’re about to go our separate ways, probably never see each other again, about to get on the train or in my car and go home, you kiss me and ask me if wanna get breakfast <3

[ofrcveries]

MASON GOODING on The Kelly Clarkson Show

[ofrcveries]

arden​ !

          arden’s  usual  bright  and  easy  grin  softened  at  shay’s  sincerity,  her  brown  eyes  gentle  as  she  looked  at  him,  as  if  his  compliment  meant  more  than  anyone  else’s.  maybe  it’s  because  arden  knew  shay  wouldn’t  say  it  to  her  if  he  didn’t  fully  mean  it.  shay  was  nice  all  the  time  anyway  but  they  both  knew  he  couldn’t  bullshit  arden  —  and  being  on  the  receiving  end  of  shay’s  thoughtfulness  was  …  really  fucking  nice.

she  listened  to  the  voice  memo  he  played,  shifting  her  gaze  to  the  ground  as  she  focused  momentarily.  ❛  i  really  like  this.  it’s  perfect  for  the  exact  situation  you’re  describing.  ❜  arden  handed  shay  his  phone  back  with  a  smile,  propping  her  elbow  on  her  knee  and  leaning  her  chin  on  her  hand.  ❛  aw,  it’s  cute  to  think  of  sweet  little  seamus  trying  to  get  into  a  bar.  truthfully  though  —  i  mean  the  fans  are  gonna  love  it,  and  probably  relate  to  it.  ❜

arden  reached  for  her  own  phone,  opening  her  voice  memos  and  playing  the  latest  one  —  the  one  her  bandmates  hadn’t  even  heard  yet.  she’s  not  ready  to  share  the  lyrics  yet  seeing  as  they’re  a  huge  work  in  progress,  but  she’s  been  liking  the  direction  her  new  song  had  been  taking,  and  she  let  shay  listen  to  her  little  guitar  solo  and  the  combination  of  instruments,  all  samples  she  recorded  and  put  together  herself.  arden  paused  the  voice  memo  after  a  moment.  

❛  i’ve  been  playing  with  some  stuff  —  i  mixed  this  all  up  earlier  in  the  week.  but  i  dunno,  could  be  cool,  you  know  ?  if  ray  agrees  to  it  of  course  which  is  —  fucking  unlikely,  knowing  him,  ❜  arden  shrugged,  brushing  it  off  as  she  continued,  her  eyes  meeting  his  as  she  smiled  warmly.  ❛  it’s  been  …  challenging.  more  so  than  usual.  writing  and  making  my  own  music.  with  —  with  ray  and  just  …  anyway.  your  excitement  and  ideas  and  everything  really  —  well  it  inspired  me.  it  still  does.  so  uh,  you’re  the  reason  this  could  become  a  song,  if  all  goes  well,  ❜  arden  said,  waving  her  phone  for  a  moment  before  biting  her  lower  lip.

the  moment  was  suddenly  a  little  charged  —  her  gaze  betraying  her  as  her  eyes  dropped  just  for  a  split  second  to  shay’s  lips.  was  she  insane  for  thinking  this  couldn’t  be  one  sided  ?  

before  arden  let  herself  over  think  she  cleared  her  throat  and  hopped  off  the  countertop,  her  mind  scrambled.  ❛  but  um  —  anyway,  i’ve  been  focusing  on  that,  ❜  arden  said,  trying  to  fill  the  room  with  something  else  –  and  ignore  how  her  heart  thumped  in  her  chest.  she  grabbed  her  wine  glass  and  walked  to  the  fridge,  trying  to  act  cool  and  collected  as  she  took  out  the  bottle  again.  ❛  the  lyrics  aren’t  done  but  it’s  from  bits  and  pieces  of  random  lines  i  thought  of.  we’ll  see.  um  —  you  want  a  glass  ?  i  feel  foolish  asking  knowing  you’ll  politely  decline  but  still.  ❜  she  asked,  her  back  turned  to  him.  where  the  fuck  was  that  food  ?

          "CUTE  TO  THINK  of,  sure,  but..."  a  puff  of  a  sigh  exits  closed  lips  as  shay  widens  his  eyes  and  shakes  his  head.  "kind  of  mortifying  in  the  moment.  BUT..."  he  holds  an  index  finger  in  the  air.  "makes  for  good  content,  i  guess.  so,  thanks."  he  reaches  out  for  his  phone  and  sets  it  down,  only  to  lean  in  as  arden  starts  playing  a  voice  memo  from  her  own  phone.

listening  to  the  guitar  solo  causes  his  face  to  light  up— it  starts  in  his  eyes  and  creeps  to  his  brows,  then  down  to  his  cheekbones  and  curls  at  his  lips.  they  part  and  he  gently  takes  her  phone,  then  brings  it  closer  to  his  ear  to  listen  intently.  "i–  this  is–"  he's  stammering  as  the  memo  comes  to  a  stop  and  he  hands  arden  her  phone  back.  "i  don't–  i  don't  wanna  sound,  like,  WEIRD  but  that  was..."  he  lets  out  a  laugh  and  nods  enthusiastically.  "that's  a  sexy  solo,  arden.  holy  cow."  he  shakes  his  head  as  if  he's  in  denial  that  someone  can  produce  something  like  that,  OUT  OF  BOREDOM,  no  less.  he  puckers  his  lower  lip  in  a  slight  frown.  "no,  no,"  he  insists.  "no,  that–"  shay  points  at  her  phone,  then  looks  up  at  arden  and  beams  at  her.  "–that  was  all  you."

and  he's  staring  right  back  at  her,  an  awe-struck  expression  painted  over  his  features  when  he  swears  he  sees  her  gaze  shift  to  his  lips,  even  momentarily.  it's  quick,  though,  and  shay  wouldn't  be  one  to  assume  someone  is  just,  like,  staring  at  his  lips.  he  brushes  the  thought  off  and  turns  to  swing  his  legs  over  the  counter  just  as  arden  hops  off.  "you  should–"  he  nods.  "–you  should  keep  working  with  that.  i  may  be  biased  but  that's  a  sick  start  you  have.  seriously."

a  polite  shake  of  his  head  and  a  hand  held  up  is  enough  for  shay  to  do  the  predictable  by  saying  no  to  a  drink.  "you  wanna  know  what  my  call  time  is  tomorrow?"  he  cocks  his  head  to  the  side  and  places  his  hands  on  either  side  of  the  counter,  legs  swinging  over  as  he  watches  arden  pour  herself  a  glass  of  wine.  "FOUR  in  the  morning."  he  wrinkles  his  nose  and  hops  off  the  kitchen  island  as  well.  "the  trainer  wants  me  dead,  i  think.  i  mean,  i  don't  mind  early  call  times  but  even  THAT  might  be  too  early  for  me  to  be  pushing  a  tire  and  running  a  few  miles  but...  that's  the  nature  of  the  business,  right?"  he  meanders  over  to  her,  as  if  testing  the  waters,  and  leans  against  the  wall  near  her.  

"you'll  like  this."  and  by  that,  he  means  she  WON'T  because  she'll  surely  call  him  crazy  and  the  smirk  on  his  face  says  just  that.  he  lightly  hits  her  arm  with  the  back  of  his  hand  before  crossing  his  arms  in  front  of  him.  "sometimes?  when  i'm  running,  i  try  to  sing,  too,  so  i  can,  like–"  shay  shimmies  his  shoulders  as  he  speaks.  "–so  i  can  train  myself  to  sound  better  if  i  ever  wanna  run  around  on  stage.  presumably,  when  you  take  your  rightly  throne  of  BEST  guitarist  out  there  and  put  me  to  shame,  so  i'll  have  nothing  but  my  little...  my  little  singing  sprints."

[ofrcveries]

DOMINIC FIKE as ELLIOT in Euphoria Season 2, Episode 1: Trying to Get to Heaven Before They Close the Door

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lucy !

starter for cassio. ( @ofrcveries​ )

– LUCY’S NEVER BEEN FOND OF THESE TYPES OF PARTIES. the hollywood guys and their dick-measuring competitions, schmoozing for connections – usually to their newest drug dealer. corbin maxwell, her date, has been balancing his time between trips to the bathroom with his buddies and keeping his hand firmly placed on her ass, which at this point, is hardly sexy and feels overly possessive. she already knows what he expects at the end of the night. he’s one of those guys that showed an interest immediately after her playboy cover came out, the worst sort, but she wouldn’t be with him if there wasn’t a benefit. corbin is producer gideon maxwell’s son, and as a result, she’s got an audition next week. she’s just got to keep playing her cards right and … drink enough to keep herself too peacefully subdued to snap at him the next time he says something stupid. 

her humbled beginnings don’t keep her from being high-maintenance. there’s not a hair out of place, blonde cascading down the back of an emerald green silk dress, designer, that she convinced corbin to buy for her before the event. perhaps it’s her beginnings that make her even more drawn to the opulent, drawn from one shiny thing to the next, attention fickle – after all, she knows what it’s like to not have these things, and so she’ll make the most of every red carpet event, voraciously chasing the next. light eyes dart around the room with a certain level of alertness that measures that above that of her peers, observing everyone, calculating. there’s no advantageous reason for her eyes to rest on his – cassio. she knows him mostly through who his father is, too, leagues more famous, but his band’s taking of – apparently. lucy read that in a variety piece on them last week, found the devil-may-care reckless attitude in the tone of his interview oddly charming. she’d recognize the alluring frontman in any crowded room, but of course, she doesn’t know him. he might be a total dick like the rest of them. 

he’s the only person here that she genuinely wants to meet, not for ambition or career advancement, but just out of curiosity. nothing more, nothing less. as a result, they’ve shared a couple glances throughout the night, intermittently. 

lucy is not naive or even vain enough to think she’s special for that – he’s the sort of person that commands an audience, presence as bold in any party as it is on stage, and she can feel the corners of her lips tug into a smile just looking at him. she gets the sense he’s as disinterested in the peacock show as she is, because if he was, he’d be pitching some bigwig rather than looking directly back at her. she raises her glass in a sort of salute, but her eyes are more inviting, a coy, come-hither sort of expression. she’s probably got oh, about ten to fifteen minutes until corbin comes wandering back from the bathroom, white residue stuck to the tip of his nose. 

“ i was wondering when you were going to come talk to me, ” she remarks when he finally approaches. that’s the thing about lucy ; while overflowing with confidence, none of it is false. she was sure he’d approach her, because she’d wanted him to, just as sure as she was that the sun would rise in the morning – because she wanted it to. “ your timing is good. i’ll probably be leaving soon, ” she takes a sip from her glass before she holds out her hand to him, eyes glittering with intrigue. “ lucy merchant. ” 

          THERE'S  AN  AIR  of  arrogance  to  cassio  khatri,  the  way  it  wraps  itself  around  him  like  a  storm  cloud  and  follows  him  like  a  forbidding  shadow.  riches  and  glamour,  attention  and  performance,  it  all  is  nothing  but  a  familiar  taste  in  his  mouth  and  everything  about  his  demeanor  shows  it.  eyes  that  scan  the  parameter  through  quite  literal  rose-tinted  glasses  (  even  at  night,  which  would  be  weird  for  the  average  person  but  predictable  for  cassio  ),  doing  a  poor  job  at  analyzing  the  room,  only  due  to  the  fact  that  he  could  do  all  of  the  people-reading  to  his  heart's  desire  and  it  wouldn't  make  him  adjust  anything  about  him.  a  somber  room  wouldn't  inspire  him  to  lower  his  voice,  a  birthday  party  wouldn't  mean  he'd  tone  down  his  otherwise  booming  personality  and  ability  to  draw  attention  like  a  true  artist.

nonetheless,  his  scanning  of  the  room  while  twisting  at  a  ring  around  his  thumb  on  one  hand  and  sipping  at  a  drink  held  in  the  other  is  managing  to  keep  cassio  pretty  quiet.  the  red  carpet  event  was  FINE,  at  best.  a  line  of  cocaine  grasped  his  attention  much  better  than  the  movie  in  question;  it  was  a  miracle  that  no  one  had  asked  cassio  for  his  unwarranted  opinion  because  surely,  he  would  gripe  about  how  the  first  half  proved  to  be  WEAK  until  the  second,  what  with  some  creative  assistance  he  had  the  liberty  of  taking  during  a  particularly  loud  scene  so  his  sniffles  were  masked.  but  such  is  life,  and  what  a  life  to  live  when  your  last  name  is  identical  to  one  sanjay  khatri,  a  legend  of  a  guitarist  who  has  left  such  big  shoes  to  fill,  he's  constantly  tripping  over  its  laces.  of  course,  with  that  came  a  golden  light  that  casts  over  cassio,  one  that  he  regularly  basks  in  and  reaps  the  benefits  of.

it  proves  to  be  hard  not  to  let  your  gaze  settle  on  one  lucy  merchant.  so  stunning,  it  almost  takes  your  breath  away,  lucy  has  a  look  to  her  that  just  SCREAMS  old  hollywood.  there's  a  sense  of  poise,  elegance,  pure  magnetism  that  radiates  off  of  her  and  cassio  can't  help  but  let  his  eyes  linger  a  bit  longer  on  her  than  anyone  else.  he's  heard  of  her  a  bit—  just  a  bit,  if  only  because  of  his  own  busy  schedule  and  narcissism  that  he  would  otherwise  deny— but  he  knows  enough  to  set  himself  onto  her.  if  earning  her  attention  is  a  conquest,  cassio  would  fight,  no  questions  asked.  he's  also  aware  that  she'd  come  to  this  thing  with  someone  else,  some  boyfriend-maybe-not-boyfriend  type  thing  but  regardless,  it  doesn't  strike  cassio  as  a  situation  in  which  he  SHOULDN'T  indulge.

and  so,  his  feet  lead  him  right  to  her  like  he's  gliding  across  the  floor,  drink  still  in  hand  and  glasses  perched  on  his  nose.  a  side  smile  plants  itself  firmly  on  his  lips  as  he  approaches  her;  a  gentle  touch  of  her  elbow  with  light  fingertips  is  enough  to  silently  beckon  for  her  gaze.  her  question  presses  its  lips  against  cassio's  and  breathes  cold,  crisp  air  into  his  lungs  and  he  swears,  he  feels  himself  light  up.  "had  to  make  sure  the  moment  was  right,"  he  answers  simply,  cocking  his  head  to  the  side.  the  mentioning  of  leaving  the  party  only  piques  his  interest  and  soon  enough,  she's  holding  her  hand  out  to  shake  his.

he  takes  it  gently,  almost  as  if  he  doesn't  ACTUALLY  know  how  to  properly  hold  someone's  hand.  his  fingers  wrap  around  hers  and  he  brings  her  hand  to  his  lips,  then  pecks  softly  at  her  fingertips  with  his  eyes  stuck  on  her.  "cassio  khatri,"  he  responds.  "tell  me,  lucy..."  he  drops  her  hand  and  rolls  his  shoulders  back,  then  glances  around  the  room  before  returning  his  attention  to  her.  "where  is  it  you  and  i  are  heading  to  next,  then?"

[ofrcveries]

fake relationship is such a good trope. they have to act in love and they are in love but they think the other isn't in love. oscar. pulitzer. nobel prize

[ofrcveries]

giselle​ !

          zeke’s  response  made  giselle  roll  her  eyes  a  little,  shifting  her  weight  from  one  foot  to  the  other.  nearly  two  weeks  of  avoiding  him  —  and  the  thought  that  kept  swirling  in  her  mind  was  whether  or  not  she  cared  what  zeke  thought  of  her.  and  it  was  a  hopeless  little  thought,  a  fleeting  one,  that  wondered  if  he  really  even  knew  her  at  all.  if  the  giselle  from  venice  beach  was  different  than  the  version  of  her  in  new  york.  if  zeke  would  like  this  one  at  all.  

his  voice  raised  slightly  and  giselle  stood  a  little  taller,  letting  out  a  small  huff  of  air.  ❛  well  i  do.  i  pencil  in  my  free  time  and  my  work  time  and  everything  in  between  and  it’s  what  has  gotten  me  this  far,  ❜  she  scoffed,  waving  her  hand  in  the  air.  ❛  actually  i  don’t  plan  everything,  because  this  conversation  is  definitely  not  planned.  but  i  don’t  —  i  don’t  need  to  explain  myself  to  you.  i’m  trying  to  lock  in  my  future,  zeke.  my  —  my  life.  ❜

it’s  hard  —  making  the  decision  to  be  honest.  but  every  way  giselle  thought  she  could  dodge  the  inevitable  would  have  been  lies  spilling  from  her  lips.  i  don’t  like  you  like  that  (  a  lie,  she  liked  him  more  than  she  anticipated  )  —  i  just  don’t  think  we’re  gonna  work  out  (  another  lie,  giselle  would  have  fit  zeke  into  her  schedule  just  to  see  if  their  summer  fling  really  was  anything  more  )  —  i’m  not  interested  in  dating  or  casual  sex  (  not  a  total  lie,  but  the  hurt  giselle  had  felt  from  her  last  heartbreak  left  her  heart  more  delicate  than  she’d  care  to  admit.  )  

the  truth  was  the  only  way.

❛  i  don’t  know  what  to  tell  you.  it’s  —  it’s  not  about  my  schedule,  or  anything.  it’s  about  you.  we  came  back  and  —  well  people  —  people  talk,  zeke.  and  everything  they  say  about  you  it’s  …  not  something  i  want  to  associate  with.  ❜  giselle  tried  to  remind  herself  she  wasn’t  cruel,  as  her  hand  clutched  the  paper  bag  tightly.  but  would  someone  compassionate  be  able  to  say  such  things  about  someone  they  cared  about  ?  

her  eyes  remained  locked  with  his,  trying  to  gauge  his  reaction.  ❛  this  is  me.  outside  of  venice  beach  this  is  who  i  am.  my  image  —  what  people  see  of  me.  that’s  who  i  am.  that’s  how  i  have  to  live  my  life  or  it  gets  too  messy  and  it’s  how  i’ve  —  how  i’ve  been  able  to  be  giselle  barlowe  not  just  —  not  just  charles’  step  daughter.  i  can’t  surround  myself  with  people  —  people  like  you.  i’m  sorry.  ❜

          ZEKE  HAS  NEVER  been  dumped,  mostly  because  zeke  has  never  seriously  dated  anyone.  the  only  experience  he's  had  with  the  ending  of  any  sort  of  predicament  with  another  person,  it's  typically  been  this  unspoken,  mutual  agreement  that  things  wouldn't  continue.  things  were  just  EASIER  that  way— or,  of  course,  zeke  would  suddenly  forget  he  owned  a  phone  and  would  thus  never  text  the  other  person  back.  this  is  merely  a  taste  of  his  own  medicine,  but  it  doesn't  quite  go  down  like  cough  syrup  used  to.  it's  bitter,  the  way  it  travels  and  scratches  uncomfortably  down  his  throat.  being  "dumped,"  for  lack  of  better  words,  sucks.

and  quite  frankly,  he's  a  bit  confused.  it's  not  like  there  was  a  need  for  things  to  end,  just  as  much  as  there  was  little  need  for  them  to  continue  except  for  the  fact  that  things  were  just  good  with  them.  why  stop  a  GOOD  thing?  he's  having  a  hard  time  wrapping  his  head  around  it.

IT'S  ABOUT  YOU.  

he  can't  hide  the  smirk  from  forming  on  his  features  at  the  remark,  followed  by  the  explanation  that  people  talk,  and  zeke  is  merely  a  montague  amongst  a  capulet.  his  tongue  runs  across  the  surface  of  his  teeth  and  he  looks  away,  molars  sinking  into  the  inside  of  his  cheek.  a  sigh  escapes  him.

"yeah?  they  talk?"  gaze  shifts  back  to  giselle,  stoic  in  the  way  he  studies  her  features.  "and  you  LISTEN?"  he  lets  that  sit  for  a  second  before  he  laughs  and  shakes  his  head.  "it's  a  little  late  for  that,  by  the  way."  he  presses  his  lips  together  and  nods,  then  steps  on  the  bottom  of  his  skateboard  to  prop  it  up.  he  catches  it  in  one  hand  whilst  holding  his  drink  and  sandwich  bag  in  the  other,  then  he  tucks  the  skateboard  under  his  arm.  a  few  steps  to  the  side  and  he's  almost  semi-circling  her;  it's  when  he's  standing  by  her  side,  shoulder-to-shoulder  when  he  adds:  "you  already  associated  yourself  with  me,  barlowe.  people  talk?"  zeke  grins  as  he  eyes  her  up.  "well,  people  watch,  too."

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emilio​ !

          ❛  i  think  it  probably  is.  better  cherish  this  moment,  then,  ❜  emilio  replied,  his  grin  private  yet  resting  easy  on  his  lips.  there’s  an  air  of  uncertainty  with  winona.  on  one  hand  she’s  interesting  to  emilio  —  someone  with  such  disdain  towards  everything  given  to  them  in  life.  then  again,  emilio  tried  not  to  dwell  on  things  too  much  (  or  at  least  he  tried  not  to  seem  like  he  analyzed  things.  easier  to  appear  dumber  and  exceed  expectations  rather  than  inevitably  let  someone  down  ).  winona  was  easy  to  talk  to,  effortlessly  beautiful,  and  frankly  —  never  boring.  

dirty  martinis  weren’t  his  preferred  drink  of  choice  —  emilio  usually  went  for  an  old  fashioned,  or  negroni,  but  if  this  was  winona’s  cup  of  tea  then  so  be  it.  

he  cocked  his  head  to  the  side,  licking  his  lower  lip  a  little  with  a  smirk.  ❛  fun,  but  still  trashy.  i  had  a  less  glamorous  night.  watched  one  of  my  friends  get  three  drinks  thrown  on  him  for  god  knows  what  —  after  me  and  you  parted  that  night  the  same  friend  ended  up  throwing  up  on  my  shoes.  at  least  here  everyone  pretends  they  aren’t  drunk  because  it’d  be  bad  for  their  image.  ❜

although  he  wouldn’t  say,  he  remembered  winona  that  night.  having  a  private  conversation  with  her  on  frankie  jonas’  balcony  that  overlooked  the  same  pool  she  swam  in  that  night.  he  was  so  close  to  asking  her  to  leave  with  him  for  the  night  —  it  was  hard  to  deny  the  attraction  he  had  towards  her.  but  they  were  both  a  little  drunk,  and  that  night  ended  with  emilio  following  winona  with  his  eyes  as  she  left  out  of  the  pool,  pretty  dress  clinging  to  her  skin,  and  instead  opted  to  help  his  drunk  ass  friends.  though  he  did  find  himself  later  exchanging  handys  with  john  legend’s  cousin  or  whatever.  

regardless,  he  looked  ahead  across  the  bar,  picking  up  his  glass  and  taking  another  longer  sip,  the  drink  already  nearly  done  as  he  quirked  his  brow  at  her  comment.  emilio  turned  to  look  at  her,  shrugging  a  shoulder.    ❛  there’s  free  booze,  and  if  you  find  someone  doing  something  embarrassing  as  fuck,  you  can  hold  it  over  their  heads  forever.  the  key  is  to  not  get  too  drunk  and  to  go  home  with  someone  you  like.  ❜  emilio  watched  the  people  again,  chewing  on  his  lower  lip  momentarily.  ❛  all  this  reality  talk  is  nonsense,  winona.  ❜  his  tone  was  light  as  he  drummed  his  fingers  on  the  counter,  glancing  at  her  with  a  small  smile.  ❛  maybe  faking  it  is  their  reality.  think  of  it  as  a  game.  there  are  no  winners  or  losers,  but  tonight  everyone  is  participating.  how  is  this  any  different  from  something  like  instagram,  or  facebook,  or  even  fucking  linkedin  ?  ❜  emilio  asked,  his  slight  mixed  accent  poking  through  with  his  curse.

          SHE  TURNS  HER  body  to  face  emilio  fully  as  he  speaks,  his  retelling  of  the  same  frankie  jonas  party  proving  to  be  a  lot  less  glamorous  than  winona  would  otherwise  assume.  like  a  dark  cloud  following  a  particularly  negative  individual,  it's  as  if  winona  assumes  a  sparkling  trail  of  gold  dust  surrounds  everything  emilio  does  but  certainly,  one  can't  associate  gold  with  purposefully  thrown  drinks  and  vomit  on  shoes,  right?  it's  almost  humorous  and  winona  can't  quite  suppress  the  small  smile  from  forming  on  her  lips,  hands  folded  delicately  underneath  her  chin.  

"sounds  like  your  night  really  went  DOWNHILL  after  our  chat,  then."  of  course  she  remembered  talking  to  him  that  night.  that  night  was  on  the  tame  side;  she  remembers  being  blissfully  drunk  and  chatting  up  quite  a  few  people  before  deciding  towards  the  end  of  the  night  that  she  could  manage  the  most  elusive  of  irish  exits  and  did  just  that,  leaving  the  party  to  go  sleep  with  some  scumbag  brooklyn  bartender  that  snuck  her  expensive  liquor  when  she'd  visit  and  ranted  about  capitalism  in  the  middle  of  sex.  nothing  quite  like  new  york  city,  after  all.

"go  home  with  someone  i  LIKE?  why..."  her  lower  lip  puckers  as  winona  feigns  confusion  and  looks  around  the  room,  then  centers  her  attention  back  on  emilio.  "i  don't  think  i  have  anyone  here,  then."  she  smirks  at  him  as  she  speaks,  then  brings  her  glass  back  to  her  lips.  "all  this  reality  talk  is  nonsense,  winona."  

"oh,  go  on,  tell  me  more  about  how  i  waste  precious,  EXERTED  thought  on  the  unnecessary,"  winona  gushes,  leaning  forward  with  bright  eyes  as  she  challenges  him.  "i  can't  fathom  being  that  miserable  with  my  own  life  that  i'm  not  always  my  most  authentic  self."  it's  entirely  false— a  look  at  her  otherwise  private  social  life  would  reveal  just  that.  almost  like  living  a  secret  double-life,  it's  just  that  winona  feels  a  bit  of  SHAME  for  being  brought  into  such  privilege,  something  she  sure  as  hell  did  nothing  to  deserve.

despite  being  brought  into  the  world  out  of  wedlock,  despite  her  birth  being  a  source  of  legitimate  gossip  for  the  tabloids  in  the  ‘90s  (  would  this  be  the  end  of  iris  berkeley's  modeling  career?  was  a  child  not  enough  for  renowned  film  director  eric  mccleod  to  stay  in  his  whirlwind  of  a  relationship  and  thus  out  of  california  rehab?  the  answer  would  be  no  to  all  of  these.  ),  despite  it  all,  winona  still  woke  up  every  morning  in  a  gorgeous  king-sized  bed  with  a  billowing  canopy  that  invited  light  in  like  a  warm  embrace,  kissed  her  cheeks  like  the  sweetest  of  greetings.  a  stark  difference  to  the  mornings  waking  up  in  dinky  williamsburg  stuidos  or  the  floor  of  a  fort  greene  flex  bedroom,  it  was  a  fact  she  didn't  want  to  let  define  her.  if  people  didn't  recognize  her  similar  facial  features  to  one  iris  berkeley,  so  be  it.  that  meant  she  could  live  in  anonymity.

winona  clears  her  throat  and  stirs  her  drink  around,  eyes  slow  as  they  shift  from  the  glass  back  up  to  emilio.  "i  digress.  i  step  down  from  my  soap  box."  the  blonde  pretends  to  curtsy  as  she  does,  then  hops  down  from  the  bar  stool  and  straightens  out  her  jumpsuit.  "that  being  said,  though,  i  am  AWFULLY  bored  and  thinking  of  bumming  a  cigarette  off  of  one  of  the  servers  just  to  feel  something.  are  you  coming,  or  are  you  scoping  out  your  next  embarrassing  topic  of  conversation  over  your  upcoming  boozy  friend  brunch?"

[ofrcveries]

Avan Jogia in Now Apocalypse episode 4 “The Downward Spiral” (2019) dir. Gregg Araki

Costume design by Trayce Gigi Field

[ofrcveries]

arden​ !

          arden  laughed  softly,  waving  off  shay’s  evident  nervousness.  ❛  i’m  messing  with  you,  shay.  don’t  you  know  me  by  now  ?  ❜  she  grinned,  nodding.  ❛  note  to  self :  rethink  any  romantic  advances  towards  ed  sheeran.  thank  you  for  the  advice,  ❜  arden  joked,  finger  connecting  to  the  palm  of  her  hand  as  she  pretended  to  write  the  words  down,  just  to  get  shay  to  relax  and  smile.  

she  looked  at  him  as  he  laid  down,  eyes  momentarily  —  ever  so  briefly,  glancing  at  his  chest,  his  torso,  only  passively  checking  him  out  before  humming  and  taking  another  sip  of  wine.  what  ?  he’s  been  in  stunt  classes  —  of  course  shay  got  a  little  more  muscle  than  arden  was  used  to  seeing  on  him.  ❛  shay  —  anything  i’ve  learned  about  her  has  been  against  my  will.  i  met  her  when  i  was  new  to  the  scene  and  she  wasn’t  very  welcoming.  my  only  connection  to  the  disney  princess  is  through  you.  ❜

she  winked  at  him,  smiling,  to  showcase  it  was  all  meant  with  a  light  tone  anyway  as  she  took  another  sip  of  wine,  taking  a  moment  to  let  it  sit  on  her  tongue  before  swallowing.  always  shay  being  humble.  it  was  no  secret  his  rise  to  fame  as  peter  parker,  matched  with  his  skill  on  the  guitar,  his  tenor  voice,  and  his  overall  likable  demeanor  had  given  him  a  one  way  ticket  to  hollywood  success,  if  he  didn’t  fuck  it  up.  which  he  wouldn’t.  shay  was  careful  in  how  he  was  perceived.  and  though  arden  didn’t  get  it  —  not  fully  —  she  respected  it.  

music  —  there  we  go.  arden  turned  towards  him  as  he  sat  cross  legged  and  she  mirrored  him,  finishing  her  glass  of  wine  and  leaving  it  behind  her,  her  attention  on  shay.  ❛  show  me,  ❜  she  said,  jerking  her  chin  towards  his  phone.  

❛  yeah  —  loads.  recently  did  one  with  ariana  and  nicki  —  dunno  if  you  saw.  it  was  actually  a  lot  of  fun.  inside  news  but  it’s  for  ariana’s  upcoming  album  —  she  released  it  early  for  the  hype.  i’m  trying  to  orchestrate  a  show  where  nicki  and  ari  can  join  me  on  stage  to  sing  it  but  —  anyway,  go  on,  i  have  like  —  obviously  instruments  if  you  wanna  play  it  or  anything,  ❜  arden  blushed  lightly,  though  she  told  herself  it  was  solely  due  to  the  wine  she  just  drank  and  leaned  closer  a  little,  trying  to  sneak  a  peek  at  the  notes  app  she  saw  shay  pull  up.

          "NO,  I  JUST–  i  want  to  ensure...  that..."  he's  thinking  extra  hard  about  his  words,  index  finger  and  thumb  touching  as  if  that'll  help  PLUCK  them  from  his  mind.  shay's  being  articulate  as  he  continues  to  speak:  "you  know...  that  i  think  very  highly  of  you  and  your  career...  and  your  love  life  is  the  least  interesting  thing  about  you."  like  a  gymnast,  he  strikes  the  landing,  a  proud  smile  settling  onto  his  features  as  he  looks  up  at  arden.  it's  not  like  it's  a  lie,  anyway— although  shay  asks  arden  about  her  love  life  (  because  although  it's  not  the  most  interesting  thing  about  her,  it  IS  still  interesting  ),  it's  because  he  cares.

and  maybe  because  he  just  wants  to  know,  but  that's  besides  the  point.

"plus,  you  don't  wanna  be  a  stepmom,  do  you?"  shay  cringes  at  the  thought  and  shakes  his  head.  her  comment  about  amanda  only  makes  him  laugh,  though  he  stifles  it  in  an  attempt  to  mask  how  he  truly  feels.  "i,  uh–  i'm  sorry  to  hear  that...  that  your  experience  was  subpar."  come  to  think  of  it,  there  were  little  times  in  which  amanda  was  around  while  shay  was  on  tour  with  arden,  probably  because  they  were  so  hot  and  cold  but  scheduling  also  had  something  to  do  with  it.  she'd  had  other  projects  to  work  on  and  shay's  tour  schedule  was  the  furthest  thing  from  flexible.  "she's  a  nice  girl.  a  little...  intimidating,  at  times,  but..."  a  nervous  laugh  fumbles  from  his  lips  but  he  waves  the  topic  off  completely.

a  defeated  sigh  follows  as  he  taps  through  his  notes  on  his  phone  to  one  titled:  FAKE  ID.  he  pauses,  holds  an  index  finger  up,  and  moves  his  hand  to  his  lower  lip  and  pinches  it  between  his  fingers  as  he  focuses  on  opening  another  app  on  his  phone.  "you  ever  do  this?"  he's  shifting  so  he's  sitting  closer  to  arden,  still  planted  on  her  kitchen  counter  as  he  shows  her  his  screen.  voice  memos  are  currently  listed  and  he  lifts  the  phone  in  between  them,  speakers  facing  their  ears  as  he  presses  play  on  one.  it's  a  pretty  simple  loop  of  guitar  notes  cascading  in  a  scale  a  few  times.  "i've  been  diggin'  that  lately.  pretty  simple."

it's  now  he  realizes  he's  sitting  pretty  close  to  arden  but  he  pushes  the  thought  aside,  brows  raised  and  shoulders  shrugging  as  he  tries  to  gage  her  thoughts.  "but,  uh–  here  are  some  real  angsty  lyrics."  he  hands  the  phone  to  her  after  opening  the  note  and  he  watches  her  with  a  small  grin,  one  that  never  quite  seems  to  leave  in  the  first  place.  "yeah,  all  i  wanted  to  do  was  see  this  band  at  a  bar  in  madison  and  i  was,  like,  so  JAZZED  to  go  but  they  wouldn't  let  me  in.  i  ended  up  wandering  the  area  for  a  while  and  eating  a  falafel  sandwich  on  the  curb  until  my  dad  swung  by  to  pick  me  up.  it  was...  so  lame."  shay  laughs  to  himself  and  shakes  his  head.  "but  the  real  zinger  was,  this  girl  got  in  right  before  me.  and  i  was  like,  wow.  what  if  i  brought  someone  on  a  date  that  night?  that  woulda  been  SO  BAD."  his  voice  is  incredulous  as  he  speaks,  animated  in  the  way  his  eyes  widen  and  his  smile  does  just  the  same.

"it's  a  silly  thing,  though."  he  gestures  to  the  phone.  "just  a  lighthearted  tune,  i  think.  could  be  kinda  fun.  but–"  he  furrows  his  brows  and  shakes  his  head,  hand  extended  to  silently  ask  for  his  phone  back.  "what  about  you?  you  workin'  on  any  other  big  hits  or  with  any  bigger  names  that  make  me  question  why  i'm  here  in  the  first  place?

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giselle​ !

          no  matter  how  hard  she  tried,  giselle  was  reminded  time  and  time  again  that  she  wasn’t  as  emotionless  as  she  tried  to  come  across.  the  scariest  part  is  zeke  probably  knew  that  too.  

and  despite  all  of  giselle’s  experiences  —  her  cruel  ex,  her  past  hookups  —  zeke  was  a  unique  situation.  one  that  giselle  had  a  harder  time  of  applying  her  rule  of  out  of  sight  out  of  mind.  because  he  wasn’t  out  of ��sight  —  he  was  there  right  now,  he  was  at  school,  she  couldn’t  fully  escape.  and  what’s  worse  ?  he  was  definitely  not  out  of  mind.  in  fact  he  was  much  more  in  mind  than  anything.  maybe  the  decision  to  just  cut  out  zeke  from  the  picture  was  easy,  but  in  actuality  ?  standing  next  to  him  right  now  and  trying  to  pretend  they  were  nothing  more  than  schoolmates  ?  some  challenges  were  difficult,  even  for  giselle  barlowe.  

she  kept  her  gaze  pointedly  away  from  him,  tilting  her  chin  up  a  little.  ❛  between  trying  to  help  run  both  my  mom  and  dad’s  businesses  and  working  to  get  my  master’s,  surely  you’d  understand  how  it’s  difficult  to  find  just  a  few  hours  away.  ❜  in  all  honesty  she’d  seen  the  text.  even,  momentarily  considered  it.  but  zeke  was  bad  news  —  her  friends  had  warned  her,  even  her  dad  had  made  an  offhand  comment.  and  besides,  giselle  knew  just  a  few  hours  would  turn  into  spending  the  night  with  him.  but  it  wasn’t  something  she  was  going  to  say  aloud,  especially  not  to  him.  

giselle  walked  with  purpose,  her  heels  clicking  against  the  sidewalk  as  she  adjusted  the  strap  of  her  purse  on  her  shoulder.  yet  zeke  kept  up,  effortlessly  smooth  on  his  skateboard  beside  her.  ❛  yes,  moving  on,  ❜  she  said,  ignoring  his  other  comment  and  chancing  a  brief  glance  at  him,  looking  for  a  beat  too  long  before  shifting  her  gaze  forward  again.  

she  couldn’t  help  the  genuine  smile  that  grew  on  her  face  at  his  mention  of  baby  blue,  and  she  looked  away  from  him  a  second  so  he  couldn’t  see.  because  he  knew  her  —  he  knew  she’d  had  her  dress  planned  for  weeks.  but  her  smile  promptly  dropped  and  she  sent  him  a  look  at  the  mention  of  money  —  besides,  from  every  single  thing  giselle  had  heard  about  zeke  from  when  she’s  come  back  to  the  city,  she  couldn’t  understand  why  he  cared.  

she  nearly  bumped  right  into  him  as  he  stopped  in  front  of  her  and  she  huffed  a  little,  looking  up  at  him.  ❛  i  —  ❜  she  started,  ready  to  do  something  like  tell  him  off.  but  she  …  really  didn’t  know.  he  was  bad  for  her  image  so  she  ghosted  him.  he  was  right  to  have  questions,  demand  an  answer  from  her.  but  she  just  swallowed,  looking  down  for  a  moment  —  a  brief  flash  of  vulnerability  before  she  met  his  eyes  again.  ❛  i  don’t  know.  what  do  —  i  mean,  what  do  you  want  from  me  ?  we  had  a  thing  in  the  summer,  zeke.  it  —  it  was  fun  i  just  —  what  did  you  think  would  happen  when  we  came  back  ?  ❜  she  was  exasperated,  her  tone  edging  on  soft  —  truth  be  told  this  was  someone  giselle  actually  didn’t  want  to  hurt.  but  there  were  things  more  important  than  whatever  friends  with  benefits  situation  zeke  probably  envisioned  in  his  mind.

          GISELLE'S  CONFIRMATION  ONLY  brings  confusion  to  his  features,  lip  pouting  in  response.  he's  continuing  to  propel  himself  forward  on  his  skateboard,  taking  a  sip  at  his  coffee  as  he  does.  it's  buying  him  time,  after  all—  as  impulsive  as  he  is  with  decision-making  at  times,  he's  usually  pretty  careful  with  his  words.  at  least,  he  TRIES  to  think  them  through.  does  he  do  a  good  job  at  it?  that's  up  for  debate.  nonetheless,  he's  mulling  it  over:  moving  on?  for  what  reason?  a  mere  summer  fling  wasn't  something  to  'move  on'  from,  now  was  it?  and  even  if  it  was,  what  happened  that  made  it  become  something  that  giselle  so  desperately  needed  to  separate  herself  from?

he  places  his  foot  on  the  ground  and  watches  her  with  intent  while  she  musters  up  the  right  words  to  say.  "what  did  you  think  would  happen  when  we  came  back?"  truth  be  told,  he  hadn't  given  it  much  thought,  but  he  also  didn't  think  it'd  end.  there  was  no  reason  for  it,  really.  and  why  put  an  end  to  a  good  thing?  "i  thought  the  temperature  would  DROP  a  bit  and  i'd  have  less  free  time?"  smart  ass.  

typical  of  ezekiel  valencia.  

he  scoffs  and  shakes  his  head,  almost  giving  his  eyes  a  roll.  "i  don't  know,  giselle,  some  people  don't–"  he  realizes  he's  raising  his  voice  and  he  pauses  to  readjust:  "–some  people  don't  plan  out  EVERY  waking  moment  of  their  life.  you  know  that?  like–"  he  pretends  to  write  with  a  pen  in  the  air.  "people  don't  PENCIL  in  fun  in  their  free  time,  they  just  let  it  happen.  you  should  try  it  sometime."

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MADELYN CLINE Photographed by Eric Ray Davidson for Cosmopolitan

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arden​ !

          arden  watched  him  with  eyebrows  raised,  a  smile  on  her  lips  as  she  listened  to  shay  stumble  over  his  words.  something  about  his  company  was  always  so  easy.  and  it  was  nice  to  be  in  his  presence  again  —  to  feel  the  easy  flow  of  conversation  and  be  met  with  shay’s  unwavering  kindness.  

she  laughed,  waving  him  off.  ❛  unfortunately  the  tabloids  will  have  to  find  something  else  to  report  on  that  isn’t  my  lack  of  suitors.  ❜  she  gave  him  a  look,  mischief  in  her  eyes.  ❛  maybe  i  should  pursue  ed  sheeran,  if  he’s  what  everyone’s  talking  about.  ❜  she  couldn’t  hold  the  facade  a  second  longer,  letting  out  a  laugh  before  shaking  her  head  and  fluffing  the  pillow  beneath  her  head,  falling  onto  it  with  a  gentle  groan  of  comfort.  

❛  yes  my  mates  —  don’t  forget  we’re  in  my  territory  now,  shay,  ❜  she  replied,  before  switching  over  to  an  american  accent.  ❛  next  time  we’re  in  america  i’ll  say  my  dudes,  or  my  squad.  ❜  

she  was  teasing  him,  surely,  but  the  tone  of  the  room  immediately  changed  to  something  a  little  more  nervous  —  uncharted  territory  for  the  two  —  as  shay  updated  arden  on  amanda.  and  while  arden  could  say  she  didn’t  actually  care  that  much  on  shay’s  love  life  update,  and  she  was  simply  asking  to  be  polite,  he  actually  gave  her  a  proper  update,  one  that  intrigued  her.

❛  sounds  …  complicated,  ❜  arden  said,  standing  up  and  walking  to  the  kitchen.  she  took  out  a  bottle  of  montepulciano  from  the  fridge  that’s  already  been  opened  from  her  writing  session  alone  last  night  and  she  poured  herself  a  glass.  

arden  hopped  up  onto  the  kitchen  island,  swinging  her  legs  a  little  as  she  took  a  long  sip  of  wine,  licking  her  lips  after  as  she  pondered  a  thought.  ❛  surely  she  has  a  yacht.  every  time  i  picture  her  in  my  head  she’s  either  running  through  a  field  of  —  funny  enough  —  daisies,  or  she’s  sitting  in  a  yacht  drenched  in  diamonds.  ❜  she  flashed  shay  a  smile,  but  suddenly  the  topic  of  amanda  daisy  felt  like  one  arden  didn’t  really  want  to  dwell  on.

❛  in  any  case  —  i  mean  like,  you’re  young.  hollywood’s  pride  and  joy.  you  got  plenty  of  time  to  just  —  have  fun.  do  what  you  want,  ❜  arden  waved  her  wine  glass  around  as  she  spoke,  nearly  spilling  a  little  before  taking  another  sip  and  setting  the  glass  next  to  her,  fingers  curling  around  the  countertop.  she  didn’t  exactly  know  where  she  was  going  with  this  —  felix  used  to  make  it  a  point  to  remind  her  how  much  she  sucked  at  giving  advice.  

 ❛  speaking  of  what  you  want  —  we  could  work  on  another  song  in  case  you  sought  me  out  only  for  my  musical  genius.  or  we  can  get  drunk  and  eat  so  much  italian  food  we  can’t  breathe.  you  lead  the  charge  and  i’ll  follow,  though  of  course  providing  my  incredibly  thought  provoking  feedback  every  step  of  that  way.  ❜

          "I–  I  MEAN,  they  should–  they  should  be  commenting  on  your  career!  your  music,  your  talents,  your–  your  performances...  NOT  your  love  life.  that's–  that's  not  what  i  meant.  i'm  sorry."  shay  is  a  bumbling  mess,  trying  to  compensate  for  something  one  could  argue  is  not  something  she  would  dwell  on  like  shay  is.  he  makes  a  sour  face  at  her  suggestion  and  shakes  his  head,  not  doing  much  to  hide  his  bias.  "no,  not  ed,"  shay  replies.  his  lower  lip  puckers  and  his  brows  furrow  as  he  ponders  out  loud.  "nah,  he's  married  with  a  baby."  he  smiles  a  bit  and  looks  up  at  arden.  "wouldn't  be  a  good  look  for  you,  ya  know?"

of  course,  the  tone  shifts  when  amanda  is  brought  into  the  conversation— if  that  doesn't  reflect  his  feelings  on  the  situation  without  words,  nothing  would.  he  lets  out  a  puff  of  a  sigh  through  closed  lips  as  he  watches  arden  pull  out  a  bottle  of  wine.  it's  going  to  be  a  HARD  pass  for  shay,  who  is  careful  not  to  drink  when  doing  anything  even  remotely  related  to  the  movie.  plus,  it's  not  like  his  last  time  drinking  with  arden  was  a  home  run  for  him.  she  hops  up  on  the  counter  and  he  meanders  over  to  her,  only  to  join  her  just  the  same.

well,  it's  momentary  until  shay  lowers  himself  backwards  until  his  back  is  flat  against  the  marble  countertop,  gaze  lingering  on  the  ceiling  above  him.  he  brings  an  arm  behind  his  head  and  sighs.  "she  was  on  a  yacht  in  the  virgin  islands  last  year  but  that  was  for  some,  like,  BRAND  thing.  i  don't  know.  i  couldn't  go."  he  laughs  to  himself  and  shakes  his  head.  "maybe  that's  what  you're  thinking.  and  her  last  name's  not  daisy  anyway,  so..."  shay  glances  up  at  arden  and  shrugs.  "so  that  imagery  tracks,  i  think.  it  just  means  she's  really  nailing  the  name  association  thing."

arden's  compliments  are  sweet,  sure,  but  it's  almost  like  hearing  your  tough  personal  trainer  give  you  a  SLIGHTLY  positive  remark  instead  of  some  motivating  bullshit  on  how  you  can  do  better.  niche,  sure,  but  accurate  nonetheless.  he  snorts  at  her  remark— hollywood's  pride  and  joy.  "i  wouldn't  go  THAT  far."  of  course  he  wouldn't:  shay  still  has  trouble  wrapping  his  head  around  the  fact  that  there's  a  sequel  to  the  movie  he's  starring  in,  along  with  the  fact  that  he  has  donned  a  few  daily  mail  headlines  and  toured  with  some  of  the  biggest  popstars  in  the  world.  but  her  words  ring  true:  there's  still  a  lot  that  shay  hasn't  done  that  he  wants  to,  and  there  are  times  in  which  dating  amanda  daisy  is  hindering  just  that.

authenticity  can  only  go  so  far.  shay  is  pretty  authentic— or,  he'd  like  to  think  he  is—  but  that's  just  at  his  core.  in  public,  in  interviews,  in  every  professional  sense,  he's  scientifically  curated.  so  careful  of  his  every  move  and  every  word,  he  can  only  let  his  true  self  creep  in  through  the  CRACKS  of  cement  every  so  often.  inhibitions  are  kept  close  to  his  chest  like  they  could  sprint  off  and  never  come  back.

the  mentioning  of  music  brings  a  genuine,  child-like  smile  to  his  face.  he  pulls  his  phone  out  of  his  pocket.  "actually,  i  had  some  lyrics  i've  been  working  on.  they're  kind  of  old,  like  i  wrote  it  when  i  was  pissed  about  being  too  young  to  go  to  this  one  music  venue  in  madison...  but  i  think  they  could  be  fun."  he  pauses  as  he's  opening  his  notes  app,  pondering  for  a  moment  before  he  sits  up  and  swivels  so  he's  facing  her,  legs  criss-crossed  in  front  of  him.  "you  ever  do  features?  like  a–  a  duet  or  something?"