sund4ze

[sund4ze]

just  when  she  thought  she'd  like  to  be  alone  for  once,  that  the  quiet  lapping  of  the  waves  was  enough  to  stop  the  endless  spinning  of  the  broken  compass  needle  inside  her  heart,  he  had  to  come  and  change  that.  samuel's  the  sun  rising  at  midnight,  basking  her  in  a  warmth  alaia  knew  was  a  safe  place  to  rest  her  head  if  she  wanted,  but  that  wasn't  the  urge  she  was  battling  tonight.  even  in  his  jokes,  it  was  like  earnestness  couldn't  help  but  bleed  through.  the  words  strike  a  different  chord  with  alaia  than  they  would  have  back  when  they  dated,  one  infinitely  more  meaningful.  —when  was  the  last  time  she'd  been  loved  like  this?  maybe  not  since  she'd  been  able  to  call  herself  a  little  sister.  it's  not  a  truth  she's  in  the  mood  to  ponder,  so  she  lets  out  a  sound  somewhere  between  a  scoff  and  a  laugh,  leaning  right  back  into  the  safety  of  playfulness.  “like  you  gotta  worry  about  me.  which  one  of  us  races  motorcycles  again?”  eyebrows  are  raised  in  a  pointed  glance;  had  her  toes  been  in  the  water  she  might  have  sent  a  splash  in  his  direction.  but  the  smile  tugging  at  her  lips  falters  at  the  sound  of  alize's  name,  which  makes  her  feel  guilty  enough  to  pull  her  gaze  away  from  sam's  and  stare  back  into  the  water  instead.  “ah…that.”  it  was  a  blessing  to  be  known,  but  there  was  burden  on  the  other  side  of  the  coin,  too.  sometimes  one  face  felt  heavier  than  the  other.  “m'not  really  in  the  celebrating  mood,”  she  says,  quiet  like  she'd  just  admitted  something  shameful,  or  maybe  like  she'd  let  out  a  secret  she'd  been  keeping  just  for  herself.  alaia's  eyes  were  still  fixed  on  the  ocean,  following  the  ebb  and  flow.  she  imagines  the  water  carrying  her  words  away,  and  it's  enough  to  get  her  to  raise  her  head  again  before  she's  pulling  herself  upwards,  dusting  the  sand  off  her  shorts.  “you  know  what  i  am  in  the  mood  for?”  she  looks  at  him  again,  gauging  what  he'll  fight  her  on,  her  eyes  glittering  in  the  darkness,  the  grin  returning  to  her  lips  wider  than  ever.  “swimming.” 

“yeah?”  a  smile  tugs  on  samuel’s  lips  when  he  says  it,  sliding  his  hands  into  his  pockets  as  he  takes  slow,  deliberate  steps  toward  where  alaia  stands  in  the  sand.  even  in  the  dim  light  against  the  backdrop  of  the  night,  he’s  sure  the  amusement  in  his  tone  is  palpable,  rolling  off  carelessly  from  between  his  teeth.

he  feels  warm.  there’s  something  about  being  so  close  to  the  water,  with  the  salt  clinging  to  the  air  so  heavily,  that  makes  breathing  even  the  cool  night  air  hardly  an  antidote  to  the  flames  burning  just  beneath  his  skin.  slow,  steady  embers  live  there,  keeping  the  cold  away.  or  maybe  that’s  just  alaia  doing  that  to  him.  he  hums.  “any  chance  i’ll  run  into  this  protective  ex  boyfriend  tonight?”  sam  jokes,  his  gaze  meeting  hers.  “maybe  i’m  willing  to  risk  it  for  you.”  a  year  ago,  the  fire  in  his  veins  burned  with  something  different.  something  more  intense  where  alaia  was  concerned.  but  now,  it  rolls  off  his  tongue  softer  than  he  intended  —  more  genuine.  she  always  has  been  good  at  bringing  the  honesty  out  of  him.  his  eyes  move  past  her,  finding  the  shoreline  just  beyond.  “or  maybe  i  can  ask  him  for  some  tips  so  i  don’t  worry  as  much.”

sam  lets  it  hang  in  the  air  between  them  for  a  moment.  it’s  a  push  and  an  out  all  at  once.  and  then  there’s  an  exhale,  and  he  brings  his  gaze  to  alaia’s  face  again.  “well,  i  thought  maybe  you’d  wanna  celebrate.  or  whatever’s  appropriate  for  alize’s  birthday.”

[sund4ze]

ninety-nine  degrees  and  counting,  like  something  had  ignited  beneath  the  lining  of  her  skin,  desire  unfurling  like  a  flower  at  the  first  taste  of  the  sun.  “ronan  mercer,”  alaia  says,  slow  like  she  wants  to  hoard  his  name  in  her  mouth  for  just  a  little  longer.  “are  you  just  one  big  softie?”  the  question's  delivered  with  a  grin  so  wide  it's  impossible  to  tell  just  how  devastating  that  fact  is  for  her.  the  face  behind  her  most  coveted  fantasies,  proving  himself  even  better  than  the  version  that  exists  solely  inside  her  head.  eyes  widen  in  mock  offense,  though  they  flash  with  something  hotter,  attraction  smoldering  like  coals  over  a  fire.  “maybe  i'm  just  spending  too  much  time  around  all  you  rich  folk.  —is  pretentious  taste  contagious?”  it's  never  forced,  the  teasing  back  and  forth  they  fall  into,  like  jumping  right  into  an  old  dance  and  realizing  you  still  remember  all  the  steps.  he  looks  at  the  orange  and  alaia  looks  at  him,  allowing  herself  a  moment  to  drink  in  the  angles  of  his  face  while  he's  there  in  front  of  her,  knowing  too  well  what  a  rare  occurrence  that  could  be  on  the  island.  “pessimist,”  she  tsks,  before  a  genuine  laugh  slips  past  her  lips,  and  alaia  briefly  brushes  the  pads  of  her  fingertips  against  her  mouth,  like  it  surprised  her.  “wow  that  sounded  so  natural,  it  really  rolled  off  your  tongue.  have  you  been  secretly  writing  perfume  ads  in  your  downtime?”  the  background  buzz  of  the  market  fades  into  a  memory  when  he  touches  her,  and  she  can  feel  it  in  every  knob  of  her  spine,  the  salt  and  the  sweat  and  the  flashing  ibiza  lights.  even  now,  the  brush  of  his  hand  is  enough  to  make  her  want  to  burn  for  two  weeks  straight.  what  would  happen  if  he  touched  her  on  purpose?  dangerous  thoughts  are  pushed  back  into  their  box  of  what  ifs  at  his  offer,  lips  twitching  up  at  the  corners.  “and  he's  chivalrous,  too.  alright  then—  but  we're  settling  this  debate  and  splitting  the  damn  thing.  just  wait,  i'm  going  to  change  your  life.” 

𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐍  𝐖𝐀𝐓𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐒  𝐇𝐄𝐑  lift  the  orange  like  it’s  the  most  serious  decision  she’s  made  all  day,  amusement  flickering  behind  his  eyes.  the  heat  curls  at  the  back  of  his  neck,  salt  on  his  skin,  but  he  can't  think  about  that  when  she  looks  at  him  like  this  —  like  there’s  something  just  beneath  the  surface  of  her  smile  that  he’s  meant  to  notice.  he  shifts  the  bread  in  his  hand  like  it  might  redeem  him,  feigning  a  sigh.  “hear  me  out,”  he  starts  off  with  a  mock-defensive  tone.  “it  was  either  this  or  squid  ink  gnocchi.  i  couldn't  say  no  to  that  sweet  old  man  in  the  back.”

his  gaze  drops  to  her  basket  with  exaggerated  suspicion,  then  back  up  to  her,  a  lazy  and  pleased  grin  curling  at  the  edge  of  his  mouth.  “infused  cheese  &  artisanal  soap  ?  alaia,  please,”  his  voice  dips  into  something  deliberately  dramatic,  full  of  teasing  that’s  easy  to  fall  back  into.  “you’re  one  bath  bomb  away  from  being  the  brand  ambassador  for  slow  living.  thinking  of  a  career  change  already  ?”  his  gaze  settles  on  the  orange  she  holds  up,  and  he  tilts  his  head,  pretending  to  consider  it.  “let's  see…  too  smooth.  a  little  too  perfect.  looks  like  it’d  rot  the  second  you  take  it  home.”  his  grin  only  widens  as  he  shrugs.  “but  it  is  photogenic.  very  ‘this  costs  sixteen  euros  because  it  reminds  you  of  a  memory  you  never  had.’”  ronan  reaches  out  to  take  the  orange,  unintentionally  brushing  his  fingers  against  hers.  a  jolt  of  electricity  zaps  through  him.  but  it's  a  spark  he  pretends  not  to  notice,  despite  his  breath  catching  for  half  a  second  before  he  covers  it  with  a  smirk.  “i’ll  buy  it  for  you.  consider  it  a  kindness.  insurance,  really,  in  case  your  soap  turns  out  to  be  inedible or whatever.”

[sund4ze]

spring  could  almost  masquerade  as  summer  underneath  the  warmth  of  the  afternoon  sun,  the  heat  trapped  in  by  the  sea  of  bodies  only  cut  by  the  breeze  that  whips  long  strands  of  alaia's  hair  out  of  place.  markets  had  always  been  among  her  favorite  haunts,  the  freshwater  pearl  necklace  that  sits  soundly  against  her  collarbone  just  one  of  many  purchases  made  at  similar  places  over  the  last  wanderlust-ridden  decade.  she's  squinting  at  an  orange  like  she  can't  quite  decide  whether  it's  going  to  change  her  life  or  not,  unblemished  peel  decidedly  deceiving  enough  that  the  sixteen  euro  price  tag  for  the  singular  fruit  was  starting  to  seem  like  a  bargain,  when  she  hears  it.  that  easy-as-honey  voice  that  could  make  the  rest  of  the  world  disappear  even  two  years  later,  like  time  itself  slowed  at  its  timbre.  alaia's  eyes  glitter  with  interest  at  his  disclaimer,  unable  to  resist  pawing  at  the  bread  like  a  cat  whose  attention  has  been  piqued  for  a  closer  look,  meeting  ronan's  gaze  again  with  a  teasing  grin.  “wow,”  she  draws  the  word  out,  head  cocking  to  the  side  just  so.  “very  bougie.  and  a  brave  purchase,"  she  pretends  to  commend,  though  the  laugh  that  slips  past  her  lips  betrays  all  of  her  amusement.  “i  mean—  that  can't  really  sound  appetizing  to  you,  can  it?"  at  his  wayward  glance,  alaia  hugs  her  basket  just  a  little  closer,  pretending  to  shield  her  own  questionable  picks  from  view.  “for  the  world's   tube  of  blueberry  and  rosemary  infused  goat  cheese,  or  the  five  bars  of  organic  soap?  ‘cause  i  got  excuses  for  both.”  she  lifts  the  orange  she’d  been  inspecting  before,  waving  it  between  the  space  that  separates  them  like  a  magician  wielding  a  rabbit  from  her  hat.  “was  thinking  about  adding  this  to  the  mix.  what  do  you  think?”  a  step  is  taken  in  his  direction,  the  start  of  a  game  that  only  exists  in  the  absence  of  taking  what  you  really  want.  “i  think  it  looks  like  one  of  those  oranges  in  those  famous  still  life  paintings  of  fruit.  therefore   delicious  and  eatable."          

📍   marché  provençal  ,  noon  💬   ronan  +  alaia  (   @sund4ze   )

𝐓𝐇𝐄  𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐊𝐄𝐓  𝐈𝐒  𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐃  in  that  coastal  way  —  voices  rolling  over  one  another,  sea  breeze  pushing  through  cracks  of  open  space,  bursts  of  color  &  sound.  ronan  moves  at  a  leisurely  pace  he  can't  get  away  with  anywhere  else,  his  sleeves  rolled  up  and  sunglasses  tucked  into  his  collar.  then  he  catches  sight  of  her.  alaia,  standing  near  a  stall  stacked  with  fruits.  the  corner  of  his  mouth  curves  before  he  has  time  to  decide  what  to  do  about  it.  years later,  she  stills  holds  a  presence  where  the  air  seems  to  bend  a  little  differently  around  her.  he’s  not  surprised  to  see her,  just  surprised  by  how  it  still  lands  in  his  chest.  something  tightens  in  him  —  not  regret,  but  something  adjacent.  something  that  feels  like  a  question  left  unanswered  for  too  long.  “of  course  you’d  show  up  when  i’m  buying  something  embarrassing,”  he  says  as  he  approaches  her,  holding  a  loaf  of  squid  ink  sourdough  in  his  hand.  “don’t  ask.  there  was  a  sample  involved.”  he  glances  toward  her  basket.  “what’s  your  excuse  ?”

[sund4ze]

FOR :  samuel  (  @unscr1pted ). LOCATION:  the beach club. TIME :  after hours, past closing.

there's  a  dissonance  to  the  night  that  alaia  can't  shake.  her  last  set  was  distracted  at  best,  heartless  at  worst,  each  note  finding  her  all  timbres  of  wrong.  it  was  the  kind  of  thing  no  sea  of  swaying  bodies  could  lighten.  she  doesn't  mind  the  wrap-up  tonight,  feels  no  particular  mourning  towards  the  way  the  beach  club  clears  out  until  the  last  laughs  fade  away  and  it's  nothing  but  crashing  waves  and  sand  again.  her  equipment  is  left  packed  up,  but  still  alaia  lingers,  haunting  the  scene  like  the  ghost  of  her  eternally  seventeen-year-old  sister  has  haunted  the  whole  day.  it's  unusually  suffocating  this  year;  had  she  not  been  stuck  on  an  island,  who's  to  say  where  alaia  would  have  gone,  how  far  she  would  have  ran.  painted  fingers  curl  into  the  sand,  gaze  fixed  on  the  silvery  reflection  of  the  moon  on  the  water,  the  only  thing  illuminating  all  that  endless  black.  and  then  she  feels  it,  the  eyes  that  had  been  watching  her  all  night,  caring  with  them  a  knowing  she  had  every  intention  of  outstepping.  “—stalking  me?”  she  teases,  head  tilting  up  to  get  a  good  look  at  him.  “you  better  be  careful.  i  got  an  ex-boyfriend  who  comes  around  here  sometimes  and  he's  very  protective.”   

[sund4ze]

it's  a  bit  like  being  faced  with  a  wild  animal,  wondering  just  how  far  you  could  hold  your  hand  out  before  you  take  a  wrong  step  and  snap  a  twig,  sending  it  scurrying  back  into  the  woods,  or  inviting  its  jaws  around  your  wrist.  mistrust  reflects  in  romeo's  irises  clear  as  the  starlight,  but  it's  the  quiet  intrigue,  quick  as  the  flame  he'd  only  just  snuffed  out,  that  interests  her.  “the  universe's  cure  for  any  ailment,”  alaia  replies,  the  confidence  her  words  carry  a  testament  to  the  deep  seeded  belief  she  has  in  their  truth.  a  spark  in  her  own  dark  gaze,  lips  lifting  at  the  edges  like  she'd  just  shared  a  secret,  privately  amused.  “a  song.”  another  step  in  his  direction,  though  no  longer  hesitant  to  spook  him  now  that  she's  laid  out  an  invitation,  feet  leading  the  short  distance  from  the  courtyard  to  her  door,  the  rattle  of  her  keys  and  the  bangles  on  her  wrist  the  only  thing  cutting  the  silence,  other  than  the  footsteps  that  crunch  behind  her.  it's  there,  silhouette  illuminated  by  the  glow  of  her  entryway  light,  half  her  face  still  turned  towards  the  salty  night  air,  that  she  offers  him  something  else.  “unless  you  really  want  that  cigarette.”  an  out  if  he  needs  it,  though  alaia  hopes  he  doesn't,  remiss  to  sit  alone  in  her  room  now  that  there's  the  option  not  to,  to  see  the  night  cut  off  when  she  wasn't  quite  ready  to  let  go.  —perhaps  she  needed  the  song  just  as  much  as  romeo  did.       purse  is  shed  somewhere  between  the  kitchen  and  the  hallway,  shoes  at  the  door  of  her  bedroom,  her  jacket  across  a  dresser  she'd  never  managed  to  fill.  half  her  life  was  still  in  her  suitcase;  a  contrast  to  the  way  she  flows  through  the world  like  water,  the  dark  urge  lingering  beneath  the  waves.  she  gestures  dismissively  towards  the  space,  busying  herself  with  switching  on  the  string  lights  she'd  hung  behind  her  bed  her  first  week  on  the  island,  the  only  sense  of  permanence  she'd  allowed  herself  save  for  the  worn  vinyl  poster  that  reads  if  it's  nice,  play  it  twice  taped  vaguely  off-center  on  the  wall.  “you  can  sit  anywhere,”  she  says,  which  could  only  really  mean  the  bed  or  the  desk  chair  whose  back  is  piled  with  various  shimmering  fabrics  and  a  woven  cowboy  hat  that's  seen  better  days.  phone  is  plugged  in  with  a  routine  swiftness,  deft  fingers  turning  the  volume  up  on  her  speakers  before  the  first  notes  ring  out,  the  breath  she  lets  go  of  cleared  from  burden  the  way  only music  had  ever  been  able  to  do. the mattress shifts from her weight as the dj takes her perch, not hesitating before she throws herself back, dark curls splaying out against her pillows.

the  moon  ,  a  disco  ball  in  the  sky  ,  casts  down  upon  two  opposites  —  alaia  who  exudes  calm  .  romeo  who  exudes  pain  .  his  round  eyes  creased  with  a  starved  fatigue  ;  it  gnaws  at  the  hand  that  warms  over  his  returned  zippo  as  his  thumb  flips  the  lid  .  its  flame  clinging  to  oxygen  ,  dancing  between  north  &  south  ,  only  breathing  so  much  life  before  he  swiftly  flips  it  shut  .  darkness  visiting  the  light  again  while  romeo  questions  alaia  with  a  glance  .  distrust  like  a  shackle  around  his  ankle  ,  weighing  him  down  until  distance  is  a  bridge  that's  never  walked  across  …  and  yet  alaia  takes  the  first  step  anyway  . 

“  what's  the  offer  ?  ”  he  steps  onto  the  bridge  too  ,  testing  the  stability  .  unsure  of  where  the  path  leads  ,  but  knowing  the  night  is  no  longer  young  &  that  wherever  the  smoke  has  cleared  ,  his  lungs  will  be  grateful  for  it  .  so  he  bites  into  her  curiosity  &  shares  some  of  his  too  ,  furrowed  brows  wondering  what  alternative  there  is  to  nicotine  on  the  tongue  .  already  itching  to  strike  the  end  of  a  cigarette  if  she  doesn't  provide  the  answer  soon  .

[sund4ze]

Anaïs Nin, The Diary of Anaïs Nin, 1931–1934

[sund4ze]

it's  moments  like  these,  sun-soaked  and  saccharine,  where  the  thought  of  leaving  is  only  a  fleeting  flutter  and  not  an  all-consuming  urge.  alaia  watches  every  wave  of  hugo's  spoon,  her  own  bringing  the  last  of  her  coconut  ice  cream  to  her  lips,  a  barely  concealed  smile  lifting  the  corners.  it  was  easy  to  feel  content  in  his  presence—  that  fact  was  the  very  foundation  of  their  friendship,  and  part  of  why  something  as  unremarkable  as  people  watching  could  make  her  whole  afternoon.  “that's  too  easy,”  alaia  breezes,  angling  her  spoon  towards  the  attempted  juggler,  one  eye  closed  like  she  was  trying  to  zero  in  on  every  wavering  footstep.  “he's  definitely  falling  in  the  pool  first,  that  man  is  drunk.”  never  mind  that  it  barely  half-past  eleven;  among  all  the  things  azure  had  to  offer,  guests  with  alcoholic  tendencies  were  hardly  the  most  interesting  thing  to  witness.  “wait—”  dark  curls  bounce  with  the  snap  of  her  head,  alaia's  eyes  widening  in  belated  realization.  “are  those  really  not  her  kids?  jesus,  what  is  wrong  with  some  of  these  people.” 

closed starter for —› @sund4ze

“   sooo   ,   what   do   you   think   happens   first   .   .   .   ”   upper   body   perched   up   against   the   counter   ,   with   a   spoon   full   of   ice   cream   slid   between   a   somewhat   sly   smile   .   a   combination   that   served   well   enough   to   suit   against   alaia's   side   .   it   wasn't   much   of   a   surpise   that   the   two   spent   their   breaks   together   ,   nearly   every   day   .   actually   ,   people   started   wondering   about   the   other   if   one   was   seen   without   them   .   “   that   dude   trips   and   falls   face   first   into   the   pool   ,   mind   you   .   .   .   both   drinks   coming   down   with   him   ?   “   spoon   like   an   arrow   tracing   down   the   man's   every   movement   before   switching   the   point   of   interest   .   ”   ooooor   ,   that   lady   over   there   realising   the   kids   she's   dragging   along   aren't   hers   ?   " 

[sund4ze]

there's  a  point  before  you  know  the  night's  over  when  electricity  still  thrums  like  the  blood  beneath  your  skin,  undisturbed  by  the  blue  that'll  eventually  settle  in,  and  anything  feels  possible.  it's  familiar,  straddling  the  line  in  an  endorphin  comedown  limbo  on  the  walk  back  home  after  a  shift  at  the  beach  club,  her  body  still  adorned  with  tinkling  jewelry,  glitter flecking  the  high  angles  of  her  face.  she's  a  shooting  star  flung  too  far  out;  an  aimless  ghost  in  the  moonlight,  refusing  to  forgo  the  land  of  the  living  for  that  of  sleep  and  quiet.  alaia's  not  looking  for  a  sign,  but  still,  she  finds  one,  face  up  like  a  lucky  penny  glinting  among  the  pebbles.  she'd  only  just  wrapped  her  fingers  around  the  lighter  before  she's  faced  with  its  rightful  owner,  no  time  to  trace  the  smooth  edge  and  ridges,  holding  it  out  towards  him  like  a  greeting.  “can't  sleep?”  alaia  ventures,  her  curious  gaze  falling  over  romeo,  emboldened  by  the  creases  in  his  clothes,  like  he'd  walked  right  out  of  a  wrestling  match  with  dreaming  defeated.  “i  got  something  that  can  help  better  than  a  smoke.” 

+  open:  to  employees +  location:  les  résidences  privées

midnight  blinks  &  becomes  a  distant  hour  when  two  o'clock  lays  itself  on  the  table  &  asks  romeo  why  he's  still  awake  .  dawn  but  an  afterthought  as  insomnia  &  the  cold  sweats  urge  romeo  out  of  bed  ,  out  of  his  apartment  .  his  restless  legs  pushing  through  double  doors  until  the  complex's  courtyard  echoes  his  footsteps  ,  something  in  his  lungs  desperate  for  fresh  air  . 

he  breathes  in  &  eases  a  ragged  breath  out  .  that  twinge  of  suffocation  leaving  his  body  when  he  reaches  in  his  pocket  for  his  lucky  strikes  .  however  ,  upon  digging  for  his  lighter  ,  its  engraved  metal  revealing  the  trauma  behind  the  idrissi  name  ,  romeo  realizes  he's  dropped  it  on  his  quest  outside  .  pocket  empty  .  panic  rising  .  romeo  spinning  ‘round  to  retrace  his  steps  where  he  runs  into  them  &  the  zippo  lighter  that’s  been  lost  .

[sund4ze]

(  ashley moore  •  cis woman  •  she/her  )ㅤ ›ㅤ still here, still making things happen — would azure isle even run without ꒰ alaia gaboury ꒱  ?  the ꒰ thirty ꒱ year old ꒰ dj/music curator ꒱ has been a part of the island’s rhythm for ꒰ one year ꒱, ensuring that everything flows just as effortlessly as it appears. you’ll find them at ꒰ the beach club ꒱, where they handle every detail with the kind of precision the island’s elite have come to rely on. they’re known for being ꒰ innovative ꒱, always having their ꒰ evil eye anklet ꒱ nearby — and spending time at ꒰ côte & co. bookstore ꒱ to unwind after work.

              𝐚𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐬 ...

the last fireworks of the summer before real life comes rushing in, an all-consuming urge to escape just barely soothed by ocean waves, song lyrics scribbled on the back of lottery tickets and napkins, trying hard not to laugh when you're supposed to be quiet, drunk walks back to your apartment wearing somebody else's jacket, feeling homesick for a version of your life that no longer exists, glitter eyeshadow catching the light of a disco ball, the adrenaline of standing at the edge of a cliff knowing only you can control if you jump, being sweat-soaked and swaying to the bass in a sea of strangers, the butterflies in your stomach when you kiss someone you've been wanting to for a while, survival's guilt forcing you into rose-tinted glasses, getting light-headed after too much sun, jewelry boxes full of vintage finds, making playlists to let someone know how you feel.

              𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐬 …

𝐟𝐮𝐥𝐥 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞 . alaia sade gaboury . 𝐦𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐟 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 . ALAIA, of basque origin, meaning joyful and happy. SADE, of nigerian origin, meaning honor earns a crown. 𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 . al, or her initials a.g. 𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐛𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐡 & 𝐚𝐠𝐞 . february 18th & thirty. 𝐳𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐜 . aquarius sun, sagittarius moon. 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 & 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐬 . cis woman & she/her. 𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 . bisexual. 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐛𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐡 . san diego, california. 𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐭𝐲 . mixed black & white. 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 . azure isle. 𝐨𝐜𝐜𝐮𝐩𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 . dj/music curator at the beach club. click here for more !

               𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 …

TW:  very  brief  mentions  of  car accidents  and  death. —  alaia  was  born  and  raised  in  san  diego,  california,  and  if  you  had  asked  her  twenty  years  ago,  she  would  have  told  you  she’d  probably  never  leave.  her  parents  met  at  a  concert,  lust  at  first  sight  they  called  it,  but  that  lust  grew  into  something  deeper  once  alaia’s  mom  found  out  she  was  pregnant.  alize  gaboury  was  born  just  a  few  months  after  the  two  eloped  at  the  courthouse,  a  blessing  despite  the  fear  plaguing  her  parents.  it  would  be  four  years  before  alaia  joined  the  picture,  enough  time  for  solange  and  rené  to  find  a  routine. —  what  they  lacked  in  money  they  made  up  for  in  love;  the  gaboury  girls  grew  up  the  center  of  their  parents’  universe.  still,  they  spent  a  lot  of  time  shuffled  between  both  sets  of  grandparents  while  solange  and  rené  worked.  for  a  while,  life  was  mundane  and  for  all  intents  and  purposes  unremarkable,  but  alaia  was  only  thirteen  years  old  when  she  found  out  that  wasn’t  always  a  bad  thing.  on  her  way  home  from  a  high  school  party,  alize  got  into  a  car  accident  that  would  end  her  life  at  only  seventeen  years  old,  and  change  the  course  of  her  family’s  forever. —  the  subsequent  breakdown  of  alaia’s  parents’  marriage,  while  not  unfathomable,  was  extremely  difficult  for  alaia  to  cope  with.  already  mourning  the  loss  of  a  sister,  it  seemed  like  in  the  blink  of  an  eye  she  was  grieving  her  entire  life  as  she  had  known  it.  solange’s  grief  caused  her  to  hold  onto  alaia  even  tighter;  rené’s  had  him  distancing  himself  until  he  disappeared  for  good.  it  was  during  this  period  of  her  life  that  she  first  started  to  rely  on  music  as  an  escape,  desperately  searching  for  something  to  pull  her  out  of  the  darkness. —  alaia’s  easy-going  nature  didn’t  start  out  as  a  choice:  it  was  a  necessity.  her  teenage  years  forced  her  to  be  adaptable,  to  learn  how  to  pick  up  and  move  on  in  whatever  situation  she  was  thrust  into.  whether  it  was  balancing  a  handful  of  part-time  jobs  while  going  to  school  or  moving  out  of  her  childhood  home  into  a  seemingly  never-ending  rotation  of  apartments  around  the  city,  she  made  it  seem  effortless  because  the  alternative  wasn’t  an  option.  what  right  did  she  have  to  complain  or  refuse  to  make  the  most  of  what  she  was  given?  she  was  alive;  that  meant  something  to  her. —  she  never  dreamt  about  leaving  california,  not  at  first.  she  hadn’t  even  planned  on  leaving  san  diego  until  she  landed  herself  a  scholarship  at  berklee,  which  her  mom  all  but  refused  to  let  her  turn  down.  moving  across  the  country  should  have  been  terrifying,  but  all  alaia  felt  was  joy  that  seemed  too  big  to  contain,  and  the  start  of  a  wanderlust  that  would  have  her  transferring  to  berklee’s  spain  campus  when  the  opportunity  presented  itself.  as  amazing  as  college  was,  alaia  had  always  struggled  with  academia.  creativity  was  never  an  issue,  nor  was  motivation,  but  applying  that  to  something  other  than  making  music  itself  proved  difficult.

—  she  made  the  choice  to  drop  out  during  the  first  semester  of  her  junior  year,  opting  to  backpack  through  spain  with  no  real  plan  except  to  try  and  establish  herself  as  a  dj,  spending  the  first  two  years  rotating  between  crashing  with  friends  and  staying  at  hostels.  no  gig  was  too  small;  this  was  the  attitude  that  separated  her  from  many  of  her  peers  trying  to  make  it  in  the  same  industry.  alaia  famously  never  said  no,  always  showed  up,  and  treated  each  set  like  it  could  be  her  last,  which  is  to  say  she  made  the  most  out  of  anything.  a  ten-year-old’s  birthday  party  was  revered  the  same  way  a  gig  at  a  bar  was,  and  her  work  ethic  and  positive  outlook  got  her  father  than  she  could  have  imagined. —  ibiza  is  where  things  picked  up  for  alaia,  who  had  been  playing  long  enough  to  accrue  a  small  following  and  eventually  the  means  to  rent  her  own  place  in  the  city.  jobs  were  finally  regular,  and  if  she  wanted  to  settle  down  and  plant  her  roots,  there  was  no  better  place  to  do  it.  but  restlessness  found  her  like  a  disease;  all  the  years  of  living  in  the  unknown  had  birthed  a  nasty  habit,  one  she  hadn’t  realized  she  had.  being  stagnant  terrified  her.  her  go-with-the-flow  lifestyle  may  have  been  born  from  necessity,  but  alaia  had  started  to  hide  behind  it  without  really  realizing  it,  and  it’s  only  when  she  slowed  down  that  she  understood  she  was  running  towards  something  just  as  much  as  she  was  running  away. —  the  solution?  pick  up  again  and  start  someplace  new,  of  course.  that’s  how  alaia  ended  up  in  monaco,  building  up  a  reputation  as  a  dj  from  basically  the  ground  up  again.  her  gig  at  la  rascasse  wasn’t  even  meant  to  be  hers;  she  was  covering  last  minute  for  a  much  more  established  dj,  a  friend  she’d  made  back  in  berklee.  she  couldn’t  have  imagined  something  even  better  than  playing  at  one  of  monaco’s  most  famous  bars  was  right  around  the  corner.  alaia  jumped  at  the  job  offer  from  azure  isle  with  no  prior  knowledge  or  expectations,  the  idea  of  another  change  of  pace  too  enticing  to  refuse.  cut  to  the  present  and  she’s  been  the  dj  at  the  beach  club  for  a  year  now.  while  she  genuinely  loves  what  she  does,  the  routine  she’s  fallen  into  is  slowly  starting  to  shift  from  comfortable  to  suffocating,  and  it’s  only  a  matter  of  time  before  it  bubbles  over.

           𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲 & 𝐭𝐢𝐝𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐬 …

pinterest <3

truly one of the most down to earth and chill people you will ever meet. alaia's tremendously easy to get along with, and can probably do well in almost any situation you put her in, whether it's in her comfort zone or not. she's not the type of person that worries about the small stuff; if she's upset, it's probably pretty serious. that being said, she struggles to validate her own feelings a lot of the time, either brushing negative emotions to the side or ignoring them completely because she's convinced herself she has no right to feel them. finds it uninspiring to be constantly negative, and tends to stay away from people who harbor that mindset because she thinks it's draining.

she's animated! she doesn't attract attention on purpose or because she craves it, but she's so full of life it tends to happen anyway. she's that friend who's always happy to hear about your interests, as she's drawn to passion. she's also an extrovert; it's not that she can't be alone, as she's spent a lot of time being independent and learning about herself, but that she prefers to be around other people even if it just means a group of strangers. she likes the crowds, the noise, the activity. the quiet where she has to think about everything she's been avoiding? not so much.

is always down for an adventure, and has a never say no mindset, which has gotten her into her fair share of sticky situations before. if you need someone to talk you out of an impulsive decision, she's not your girl, but she will be the one to hold your hand through it. on the flip side, her unpredictable streak can sometimes make her unreliable. don't mistake her flakiness for lack of care; she's just an aquarius after all </3 sometimes she can get caught-up in the whirlwind of her own mind or life and forget if she said she'd be there for someone else.

music is everything to her. playing it, discovering it, listening to it, dancing to it, you name it, she loves it. casually makes people mixes all the time, so if you're in her orbit, you've more than likely received one. her total minutes spent listening on her spotify wrapped every year is probably terrifying ... hearing bad music on a night out is the only time you'll see her be genuinely upset about something trivial, because she knows she could be doing a way better job.

she has a lot of stories and experiences, but they always come out as casual throwaway tidbits in conversations. you'll be talking to her about something and she'll say "oh that reminds me of the time..." and drop one of the most insane pieces of lore you have ever heard, then carry on like it's normal. the only thing she misses more than her mom working on azure is traveling around.

            𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 …

sparing myself here bc i almost always end up with muse specific connections ... just know i'm down for anything and everything and i love fun 🫶😋

[sund4ze]

#SUND4ZE: a private , dependent blog affiliated with ILEAZURE, penned and loved by  𝒙𝒂𝒏  (  she / her  ) please do not interact unless a member of the group !

𝐚𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐚 𝐠𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐲  :  she/her ; dj at the beach club . ¹. intro , ². stats , ³. pinterest .

[sund4ze]

⋆ ˚｡ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐀𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐒 .

𝐟𝐮𝐥𝐥 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞 . alaia sade gaboury . 𝐦𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐟 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 . ALAIA , of basque origin, meaning joyful and happy. SADE, of nigerian origin, meaning honor earns a crown. 𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 . al, or her initials a.g. 𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐛𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐡 & 𝐚𝐠𝐞 . february 18th & thirty. 𝐳𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐜 . aquarius sun, sagittarius moon. 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 & 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐬 . cis woman & she/her. 𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 . bisexual. 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐛𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐡 . san diego, california. 𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐭𝐲 . mixed black & white. 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 . azure isle. 𝐨𝐜𝐜𝐮𝐩𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 . dj at the beach club.

⋆ ˚｡ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄 .

𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦 . ashley moore. 𝐯𝐨𝐢𝐜𝐞 . has a deeper, raspier tone. tends to talk fast, most especially when she's excited or agitated. sounds confident even when she isn't. 𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 . five foot eight, or 173 cm. 𝐛𝐮𝐢𝐥𝐝 . slim and toned; has long legs. 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬 . brown. 𝐡𝐚𝐢𝐫 . dark brown curly hair falling just past her shoulder blades, almost always worn loose and natural. she rarely straightens it, although she used to more frequently when she was younger. 𝐩𝐢𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 . multiple ear piercings on both sides, although not symmetrical, and a naval piercing. used to have her nose pierced but she let it close. 𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐨𝐨𝐬 . butterfly wings between her shoulder blades and a koi fish on her left wrist. 𝐬𝐭𝐲𝐥𝐞 . it evolves based on where she's living. currently, her closet features a lot of micro shorts and skirts, sequin tanks or glitter knit tops, summery beach vacation maxi dresses layered over a bikini, and low waisted denim. she's never seen without her accessories, notably her jewelry, which is almost always gold. layers lots of necklaces, stacks rings, and often sports a belly chain. 99% of what she wears on a day-to-day basis is vintage. 𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐭 . almond or pistachio top notes, jasmine mid notes, caramel, coconut and sandalwood base notes. 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐬 . voluminous curls, full and pouty lips.

⋆ ˚｡ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐘 ⸺ 𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝒐𝒏𝒆 .

𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐬 . confident, animated, independent, adventurous, innovative; detached, unreliable, impulsive, unfocused, headstrong. 𝐥𝐚𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐬 / 𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐬 . the dynamo, the wanderer, the shooting star, the artist and the muse. 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐥 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐭𝐡 . has a mostly positive outlook on life and always tries to see the bigger picture. tends to compartmentalize negative feelings instead of dealing with them as they come, which can lead to small setbacks triggering a bigger blow-up. tends to avoid being alone as she gets her energy from other people. 𝐩𝐡𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐭𝐡 . tends to be highly active in an effort to expend some of her restless energy, although she gets bored with routine when it comes to exercise easily. gets sick often when she's in a habit of constantly being on the go, which is always her cue to slow down. her biggest vice is alcohol; she's a social drinker. picked up smoking after living across europe, but she's trying to kick the habit.

⋆ ˚｡ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐘 ⸺ 𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝒕𝒘𝒐 .

𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐬 . crowded rooms, the smell of the beach, feeling the bass of a song in your bones, styling herself and others, traveling to new places and meeting new people, surprises, making personal playlists, cracking jokes when she's meant to be serious, learning the type of facts that would only be useful in trivia games, talking on the phone instead of texting, giving compliments to strangers, candid photos, a good party. 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐬 . feeling trapped, staying in one place for too long, people with superiority complexes, being alone, bad music on a night out, humor that pokes fun at others, taking anything too seriously, most silver jewelry, saying no to a new opportunity, staying home when she could be going out, constant negativity, not being taken seriously. 𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬 . getting old and feeling like she missed out on anything. 𝐩𝐡𝐨𝐛𝐢𝐚𝐬 . heights. 𝐡𝐨𝐛𝐛𝐢𝐞𝐬 . swimming, jewelry making, burning mixtapes, dancing. 𝐬𝐤𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐬 . being able to make friends in any room of strangers she's thrown in; being able to adapt to almost any situation. 𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐫𝐤𝐬 . drumming her fingers when she's thinking, raking her fingers through her hair when she's nervous. 𝐩𝐞𝐭 𝐩𝐞𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐬 . people who don't say please or thank you.

⋆ ˚｡ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐘 .

𝐦𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 . solange gaboury. 𝐟𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 . rené gaboury, estranged. 𝐬𝐢𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 . alize gaboury, sister, deceased. 𝐩𝐞𝐭 . none, the idea of having a pet is terrifying to her after she accidentally killed her class hamster at age seven when it was her turn to take care of him. 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐬 . her only set of living grandparents, which are on her paternal side.

⋆ ˚｡ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐒 .

𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦 𝐟𝐥𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐫 . caramel. 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐲 / 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 . the hour right after sun set, when the sky isn't fully dark. 𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 . the warmer the better. she's unused to cold weather, and has yet to adjust whenever she encounters it. is partial to thunderstorms because they remind her of being a kid. 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐟𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐨𝐝 . loves a good savory breakfast, like a sandwich or toast. 𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐨𝐨𝐝 . prefers cold foods like sushi or salads at night . 𝐛𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐞 . an iced green tea. 𝐟𝐫𝐮𝐢𝐭 . loves almost every fruit, but if she had to choose one, coconut or passionfruit. 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐭 . doesn't have a huge sweet tooth, but maybe a good brownie. 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐫𝐬 . teal or orange.

⋆ ˚｡ 𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐎𝐌 .

𝐚 𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐦 . her evil eye anklet she's had since she was sixteen and never takes off. 𝐮𝐬𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐦𝐨𝐨𝐝 . usually in high spirits, and has been known to put those in her orbit in better moods. operates on a default setting of easy-going and it takes a lot to rile her up. 𝟏 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐝𝐨 𝐛𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐝𝐢𝐞 . make enough money to buy her mom a new house. 𝐝𝐞𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 . the death of her older sister. the last birthday she remembers her father attending, then the last birthday she remembers him calling. her first time playing around with music. deciding to drop out of college with no plan except to follow her heart. realizing she didn't have to dream about seeing the world, and that she could make it happen so long as she was alright with being uncomfortable and living in the unknown. landing the gig at la rascasse. the first time she'd stepped but on azure isle. meeting her first millionaires and billionaires.