pvssicns

[pvssicns]

* SANDRA OH , CISFEMALE + SHE/HER  |  hey !  did   [ SERENA LEE ]   just take my cab ?!  i can’t believe i got screwed over by a   [ 45 ]  year old  [  ASSOCIATE PROFESSOR  ]  …    the little shit .  they ain’t even a real new yorker!  how long have they been around anyways?!  not longer than me …  i only remember seeing them for the past …   was it [ 20 ] [ YEARS ] ?  anyway , doesn’t matter !    i know they live at  [ CHELSEA ,  MANHATTAN ] ,  and they’re getting a letter !   i don’t wanna hear any excuses over not hearing me over [ HALLELUJAH BY LOGIC ] blasting on those godforsaken headphones again!   

AESTHETIC:  ratty scarves, big hair, harried gait, knit brows, intrigued cant of the head, steepled fingers, earth tones and pastels, hands of a sculptor, too many books, too many papers, too many people

hi ! i’m lea, bringing you my hot mess of a grown ass adult !  traditional intros are not really my thing so bear with me !

so this is serena, daughter to migrant korean parents, she is the product of the hand me downs of the experiences of the korean diaspora

the history there is complicated, aside from championing causes for pocs, sympathetically supporting diverse students, she doesn’t really like talking about her personal history 

most of her adult life, she has called new york home, whether it was the city or upstate new york, where her parents settled when she was 10

bright child, got good grades, but studying the arts was her greatest love. she could find the romance in a renaissance painting, be stolen for hours in front of canova’s cupid and psyche

sculptures, pottery, these are things she can weave meaning from, trace history, explain civilizations, ponder the human condition

once academia became a career for her, this took her to brussels where she could learn and teach to her heart’s content, surrounded by talent and beauty and intellectuals with a keener eye, sophisticated palettes — she had found her people !

until one day she met this one particularly precocious female student in one of her sculpting classes

it was the first time she felt truly pursued. it was easy to get lost in the metaphors, shrouded by hallowed halls, words and touches easily emboldening simmering passions

but circumstances don’t change, the relationship was inappropriate, and things unravel sooner or later, she was the adult, she tried to get ahead of the curve, only to reminded how restless, dramatic and unyielding youth can be 

she left brussels, left her dream job, dismayed and ashamed, just to get away from it all

NYU welcomed her back home to the city with open arms, but only to teach in the liberal arts department, romantic literature, as part of ‘ communications ’. she had to take what she could get

and in new york she has remained ! for the past few years. she is good at her job, she keeps her head down and gets through each semester, misses europe dearly, but she’s popular with her students, it could be worse right ?

outside of the university, while she might have spent a lot of time in europe, she is definitely very american

hip hop is a guilty pleasure, some students would be stunned to find out that occasionally, very very occasionally she has a potty mouth

pot ? yes. 

she is 45, but she needs mom - friends because her personal life is a disaster. send help

i’m still figuring things out and don’t have much more to say so, come plot with me !

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( xmargot‌.)

            “ im here just as you are, ser. to admire the work of art created on these walls, and to fancy a good time, with equally as good company .” was that too much to ask? no. - and the coffee shop meeting had been enough pathetic, public embarrassment for the younger woman. doing so in this particular setting would be social suicide. composure was also present for the sake of not wanting to be emotionally exhausted. it was easier to get along, now wasn’t it? “ please.” she dismissed serena’s words with a shake of her head. how easy she had ignored her previous company now for the professor, and with such relaxed poise. “ what do you feel about this one ?”  turning to face the painting smeared in cerulean acrylics. margot’s transition was a way to weave serena into her time. 

initial comment goes unchecked and unacknowledged. it is easier that way. opens no room for anything more unpleasant. eyes follow margot’s subtle gesture, free hand coming up for chin to rest on relaxed knuckles. “ makes me wonder why that particular shade.” sometimes an anomaly is meant to stand out. other times, they are just mistakes, thereafter mistaken further, for something they are not. 

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( xmargot‌.)

               new york, the city of clumsy people constantly disregarding their whereabouts and knocking into others. margot was convinced. it should be noted she hadn’t been peeved. something she was quite used to by now. “ pardon .”  left apologetically then fell … flat. OF COURSE.  the universe hated her. fingers wrapped around the stem of the glass, she lifted to take a quick sip. wine, white, not too sweet, and smooth on her tongue. Hazel eyes washed over the others features. how familiar. if anything was studied at either schools margot had ever attended, Serena’s face had been studied the most. “ in the fountain ,” the exhibit of paintings, “ you took such a liking to it you seemed to have fallen off your heels and knocks into me, yeah ?”  how awkward. … was it? certainly a couple of weeks ago was with the heavy tension. 

imagine being this unlucky. or lucky? which is it? a quick retort springs to the tip of her tongue. i haven’t knocked into you don’t be dramatic. but this is not the time or the place for hostility is it? she is tired of this. she laughs. a breathless, tired, half laugh at her own pathetic situation, not margot’s words, bringing her glass up to her lips. biting cold gin over ice with a strip of japanese cucumber flavouring the hendricks. topped with soda water instead of tonic. it hadn’t felt like the night for wine. “ i am not in the mood to spar with you tonight.” lips are moistened by the fresh drink, crisp and bitter and smooth. “ i do like it. i’m having a great time.”

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( caleb-finch‌.)

Down a side alleyway close to Caleb’s coffeeshop, he was sat on a little stoop outside of his back entrance, shifting out of his apron and running a hand through his messy curls. He was exhausted. He sank down a bit farther on the seat, wringing his hands and glancing over at the only other person nearby. In his normally rather posh British accent, he murmured in a hoarse voice, “D’you have a cigarette, by chance? It’s been a very long shift.” 

she’d stopped her usually quick strides for more than a minute, frantically typing an email on her phone. she’s still not sure if she’s quicker on this or had been on a blackberry. such a love - hate relationship she’d had with those things! his voice makes her look up. “ you’re in luck, i do. not sure if i have a light though,” she says rummaging in her purse. “ never mind i found matches, art stuff.” heels scrape against gravelly surface as she approaches him offering the pack. “ used to have a pack a day. now it’s just one stick, if that.”

[pvssicns]

golden guns are on her mind tonight. she’d seen it in a poem and has been pondering the meaning of that metaphor ever since, naggingly. it seems something so glaring that the nuance is overlooked. she glides along carefully, eyes taking in each pristine piece. it’s an honour to have been invited, she moves backward, lifting her drink to her lips, feeling an obstruction block her path. “ oh! oh i’m sorry,” murmured words before she turns around to bear the person with the dignity of a glance.   ( @xmargot.)

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( celestereaser‌.)

                                   ‘‘Are you still going to—? Give me a sign if you do, so I can at least try to trust fall you— or something like that.’‘ Of all the people she could count on one hand that were slightly above her age, Serena definitely fell under the more responsible sort. Not to speak of the entire professional glow she had going on, a thought Celeste rather kept to herself than to flatter her friend with. ‘‘Because your hair is fabulous — do you really need a reason or do you just seek one for me to flatter you, ‘cause it ain’t working.’‘ There, she tried to bullshit herself out of it. Keyword: tried. ‘‘What do you think I am? An amateur? Who do you think you’re talking to here? If you’d think I wouldn’t bribe your favorite baker, you’re so wrong.’‘ Celeste pulled her phone out with a knowing grin on her lips before actually accentuating the following, ‘‘control freak much, geez,’‘ knowing fully well the words applied just as hard to her. There was no day the brunette could pass without scheduling everything to an exact time, it was a pet peeve. To which she went through the schedule, shifting some work here and there to make it work. ‘‘Alright, what about two hours and seventeen minutes from now? Which makes it 4PM exactly, if we’re not counting the seconds that are ticking by rapidly.’‘

brows drop flat on her face and thumb and forefinger reach for a mock pinch and twist. “ one day somebody is going to bust that oversized cheek of yours, and i will be here filing my nails and drinking wine.” there, that’s enough of an ominous prophecy. now to fill it with belief. “ of course you would. and if you fail, you’re getting locked out.” an eerily sweet smile follows. is she serious? maybe not. a simple smile can mean so many different things. “ you could’ve just said 4pm i really didn’t need a reminder that you’re an incorrigible geek under this pretty exterior of yours.” chin lifts, as if there’s still a possibility she might change her mind. “ 4pm works. i can get through a good chunk by then.”

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( calvinwriteshobbes‌.)

“Well, that’s true. Welding is something I enjoy, but love is a really strong word. But, I can see your point.” Calvin nodded, totally getting it. If it weren’t for his situation when he was younger, he probably would have went to UC Berkley or another big college to get that Masters in English. “Yeah! I’ve decided not to be the Hermit Poet for once. Read my poetry aloud to someone other than my son and our cat.”

“ then i’m definitely coming. who cares about these kids, they have lives, they’re out living them, at least if you bomb, i’m there with a round of drinks. you sure you don’t want to do a private rehearsal? i can brush up on my heckling skills?” she has no heckling skills. in fact, the moment he leaves she is going to open youtube and search ‘heckling’. “ who knows, maybe you’ll be the next twain... or the next... i don’t know... bukowski.”

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( moiramoretti‌.)

“ You are gonna have to run all of that by me one more time. Who is James charles?” Moria asked as she began to clean the tables of her last customers. “I don’t get it, I mean who are these people. I thought youtube was a music channel.”

“ some 17 year old that went to the met gala,” serena responds with an amused smile. “ — is he 17?” she asks her former students she’s with for the evening. “ oh he’s 20!” a laugh rings out, fingers covering her mouth. “ i suppose i’m as clueless as you. but it is not in fact, a music channel, but an internet video platform. you could even start a youtube channel for this place, advice and demos... link to instagram...” 

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( celestereaser‌.)

                                    ‘‘—Look who’s melodramatic now?’‘ Celeste’s dimples deepened graciously, side-eyeing Serena with a quirked eyebrow. ‘‘You’ve got a nerd walking next to you and you’re complaining about grading papers. If I help you out, we’ll be done by tomorrow morning. Picture this: I come by your apartment in a few hours from now with a bag full of fastfood and some trashy snacks, we’ll live on coffee throughout the night, you grade, I update the system with said grades and maybe take a nap or two in between if you please and we’ll be in time to attend my thing. I’ll bore you with lots of useless facts about the people attending the Pride Luminaries Brunch, it’ll be fun!’‘

“ how am i being melodramatic? i haven’t pretended to faint yet.”  she is picturing it. typically she would refuse, anyone else offering to help her grade would only end up inadvertently causing more work via several detours, but with someone as competent as celeste actually working around a glitchy system? might work. “ honestly i don’t know why you’d ask me to go to these business-y things...” all she’ll be able to contribute to the conversation are thoughtful looks and equally useless facts on art, history and sculpting. “ this bag better include cinnamon raisin buns,” she drawls pointedly. “ and i am good at networking. what time are you coming? few hours is a broad window. ”

[pvssicns]

Wear it down.

[pvssicns]

( xmargot‌.)

     eyes fixated on her hand. more importantly the space underneath it that hand been evacuated. yet, her hand still remained. hm. ‘ YOU’RE making it worse.  ‘  there was that contraction. that word of striking direction. a sniffle. she collected herself.  margot was disoriented from the entire display. “ thank you .”  not like any of it needed to be pointed out. manners were coated thickly, not making it polite nor thankful for anything. it just felt like another jab. a realistic jab. at this age. hand retracted from the table in an expeditious  movement to cover her mouth. it needed to mute the disbelief on her face. the small gasp, fingers rubbing against her chin in a moment of split decision. does she handle someone speaking to her in such a way? margot shifted, another time, more uncomfortably. her coffee was going to be a waste. “ ooooooh, so later in life i will understand.” the logic sat on one side of the table, the emotional crumble on the other. “ ok. right. is this all? ” her skin was trickling now with a coldness. standoffish. it couldn’t be handled. JUST as serena couldn’t handle the struggling student. wrist lifted, as if her time was being wasted, a sigh pushed through her nostrils. 

the bottom of her cup meets the saucer with an audible clink. there it is. once again, when margot doesn’t get what she wants her solution is this. there is nothing wrong with you. does serena truly believe that? because this definitely feels wrong. “ this was clearly... a mistake, i shouldn’t have asked you to come here. i’m sorry.” fingers press and rub into her forehead. she is tired. she wants to believe it’s simply too soon, but there is a nagging suspicion, that perhaps there is nothing here that can be fixed. that it will never be the right time. she reaches for her wallet to leave a generous tip on the edge of the saucer.  “ i’m going to go. i hope you have a good summer.” enough is enough. at least now she has the peace of mind that she tried.

[pvssicns]

( xmargot‌.)

    the feeling couldn’t be helped. she felt like a problem. serena’s problem. one she had to get under control, and had realized that everything was still firing in all spiraling directions for the student. margot never wanted to be a PROBLEM. & had she never thought that the possibility would exist. “ of course i’m not .” it could be admitted. even without it spoken. the entire scene was obvious. her fingers had the intention to soothe them both. selfish needs of her own just wanted to wrap lengthy arms around the older woman until she surrendered. - the fear was in her, and she was shocked that serena’s hands hadn’t moved. youthful desire soaked in that small action. “ why not ?”  there was a cork plugging herself from over spilling her emotions, but the wear of it all was apparent on her expressions. “ what’s so wrong with me that you couldn’t handle me anymore, that you CAN’T handle me now ?”  to blame herself. it HAD to be her? a mind left for much growth didn’t want to follow direction from serena. she wanted to stand on the table with declaration. and it had been believed that they once were… something .. how could that now be … nothing? or was margot just naive? her fingers caressed, held an affection that was bold within her. 

words fly back and forth in her mind forming explanations that she is certain anyone other than margot would understand. how does she make this clear? at this point she doesn’t know if margot is too emotional to think about it properly, or if she simply refuses to. “ just because something feels mutually nice once, that does not make it right. and it does not entitle you to anything. i crossed a line. i accept that. but now? now i’m trying to do right by a difficult situation and you are making it worse.” there is nothing wrong with you. she wants to say, but she is no longer confident that this will tide over well. margot seems to amplify every shred of serena’s care, of her concern and just... runs with it. “ you would have graduated by now if it hadn’t been for all this, and now look at you.” look at us. wrists turn so that hands can grip margot’s instead and squeeze gently to make her point. “ you’re stubborn. we all are at this age. but what you need?” head slants slightly and she offers a small... sad smile. “ i don’t have it. it’s not with me no matter how much you insist on creating a mirage for yourself that i do. one day you’ll realise that i was right.” hands withdraw this time, too quickly to be chased, and delicately lift her coffee. it’s what seems like the logical next step to regain some composure. some normalcy.

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( calvinwriteshobbes‌.)

“Y’see this is why I never went for my teaching degree as much as my academic advisor tried to push me into it. Just being tied down to grade papers and stuff. Not for me.” Calvin mused as he walked beside his friend. “It’s just an open mic. There will be others, though. Don’t sweat it.”

“ well i always say you need to really like the subject. the paperwork, on top of the grading is... not ideal, but it’s a fair trade for being around what you love.” ironic coming from her, seeing as the modules she is giving now at NYU are basic and not at all her preferred courses. “ open mic? wait do you mean open mic as in you’re planning to read something of yours? in front of humans? finally?”

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( thatszander‌.)

Zander left her to her thoughts and sat there sipping his drink knowing she’d snap back into the real world soon enough. “ I am thinking of asking Parker to marry me, apart from that works just been keeping me really busy!” He replied as he looked at her.

she blinks several times, rapidly. at first she thinks she’s heard him wrongly and tilts her head, brows knit. “ wait what?” parker? parker. “ p - you - zander?!”  she gives a little shake of her head to rid herself of all fuzziness and splits into a wide beam. “ you are? really? that’s good news! right?” 

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( xmargot‌.)

    that was just the bitter bite. exhaustion. berating. the aroma all around them was dissatisfying. everything was. the wound of the two women was opening on margot’s end. her sense of denial was revealing it’s self. a fever was sickening her with each spilled truth. margot was a lot of things, but she couldn’t gather herself enough to ever toughen harshly against serena. there was never any will within her for that behavior. there was no malice, just a youthful heart. “ stop.” another plea. the scene was spiraling now between the BOTH of them. - and the care for who was watching, picking up on raised tones, and a shift of uncomfortable air was something the woman cared less, and less for, when there was such a devoted warmth she wanted to display through the thickening tears that piled in her eyelids. lips parting, she went to speak. something to be said that would make the woman unravel more? maybe. it wasn’t held in maturity, but caught somewhere within her throat. there was a dose of courage though. her hand, fingers unstiffening from the cup, slid across the woman’s side table. she was disrupting the professor’s space constantly. lithe in her touch, she was worried that too much would send the woman out of the coffee shop. her eyes didn’t want to collect another image of her leaving. “ ser. ” another plead. lithe fingers smoothed over the woman’s hand and there was a rush of familiarity in the shape of her knuckles, and the smoothness of her skin. there was a sudden missing of watching the woman dedicate herself to grading papers. how her hands would mess in the molding of clay. how she missed the feeling of them simply collecting her own hands. “ it’s not ridiculous .” 

why does this keep happening? every time margot shows her petulance, and she counters it, she’s the one made to feel as if she is kicking a fuss, when she is not. it should incite anger, but that is one emotion serena cannot find in herself to produce towards margot. “ i can’t handle you.” words blurted out with a slight hush to her tone. “ do you not see it? i’ll lose it. this isn’t —” air expels from nostrils and she can feel margot’s smooth fingers over her hands. she should remove them. it’s greed that stops her, even though her mind hasn’t changed. greed to feel that. even just a touch. “ this is ridiculous. i thought you were past it, i thought you could be rational, and you’re not. you have to let this go margot.” how much longer will it be? another year? another six years? “ i am here for you if and when you need me. but not in that way. i can’t do that. we should not be doing that. please listen to me. none of this should have happened.”

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( noraodowd‌.)

“Salads aren’t a meal, though, and really I’m not sure salads you can get delivered even are healthy.” She couldn’t say she had any actual proof of that, but she certainly had a very good feeling about it, “I can’t promise I’ll be any better at cooking than usual, but I can certainly try, and sure, so long as that’s not where all your attention goes.”

“ aren’t a meal? what are you talking about - a quinoa salad has vegetables, carbs and protein, it’s all in one.” the protest is half hearted. rabbit food won’t sustain her, not for long enough at least, she knows that. “ better you than me, i feel like i’ve forgotten everything i used to be able to do. that’s what i get for not writing things down.”

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( hal-snow‌.)

Hal let out a laugh, “I think I’ll be able to handle the guilt.” He grinned, following behind Serena quickly, catching up with her and falling into pace easily. “Besides being stuck in grading hell- how are you?”

“ oh wait til it actually happens, you’ll be taking that back.” amusement is riddled in the plumped apples of her cheeks. “ how am i? you don’t even need to ask, the answer is in your own words. what i am, right now - is boring, as you so kindly pointed out. and how i am boring is also exactly how you put it, i got stuck in grading hell. is boring by definition then, alright, okay or perfect? that’s a matter of perspective... isn’t it?” to make a LIVING out of being an orator of sorts, then to exploit it in conversation: it ties people in knots and she is smug about it. it shows in the expression she is throwing at him. she’s smart. she knows.