#i think my goal is to try to gif parts of every world... i dunno im enjoying seeing parts of worlds i dont normally

[simelune]

rainy afternoon in glimmerbrook 🌧️

[giffingthingsss]

J/C, C/7, and Me

Disclaimer: I am not necessarily a J/C shipper. I just have eyeballs and enjoy the show. Long ass post. 

In the Beginning

Was a Janeway/Chakotay romantic plot baked in? I tend to think not. At least not at the very start. But this is pure speculation on my part.

If romance is your goal, then it’s much more interesting to have Chakotay not immediately being 100% supportive. (An AU where they never get lost and it’s just Janeway pursuing this Maquis leader and maybe eventually being persuaded and helping him, please.) 

I think initially they were flirting with the idea of Janeway/Paris. The character of Tom was described as being a potential love interest for Janeway. That idea doesn’t seem to have made it past the character sketches, but you can see a trace element of it in the very beginning. 

The writers played with a number of character combinations. A pretty natural chemistry was cropping up between Captain and First Officer. Little things were dropped into scripts. Performances certainly came across as interested, whether intended or not, who knows. 

Ramping Up

Where before there were hints and moments, Resolutions kicks off a series of flashing red sirens.

From this episode on there would be declarations of... ‘you bring me true peace’, and ‘I’m frickin jealous, okay?’ and bawling declarations of ‘you can’t die!’ These developments are not in the shipper’s imagination. They’re building toward something. Clearly. Obviously. Said all the people with eyes. 

For the first couple seasons, Janeway being engaged kind of kept this at bay. But now they’re fully playing with it. 

Road Block

However, Kate Mulgrew (and maybe others, I dunno) was like, ‘sure. develop the relationship. but no sex. the first female captain isn’t going to be having booty calls in the ready room. not gonna happen. people are going to take this captain seriously.’

So they played with it here and there, but it could only go so far. Kate seemed to want the best of both worlds. A deep, complicated, growing relationship, that never tipped over into the sexual. Her focus was on getting the crew home. 

Beltran flat out says (in one of the books I own that I don’t feel like digging out) that Chakotay was in love with her. But Beltran was getting frustrated. When Year of Hell came around, he apparently called up the writers and said, ‘how long is this guy gonna keep throwing himself at a woman who never reciprocates? it’s getting pathetic. either do something with these two or don’t.’ 

Loner Janeway

Along the way, I think Kate became enamored with the idea of the loneliness of command, the sacrifices it entails. Fell in love with the poignancy of it all.

This is not something that’s out of character for Janeway. Beyond the fact that in the beginning she was engaged, pairing off was a luxury she didn’t think the captain had. So any kind of romantic relationship she might pursue would have to start with her being broken out of that mindset. 

That’s basically what Resolutions did. Once they finally pried Voyager out of her fingers, you could see a burgeoning love very clearly. But then Voyager came back. And with it her... resolutions. 

Coulda Woulda Shoulda

If they had wanted to snip it and move on, they should have had that conflict between Janeway and Chakotay at some point. Perhaps after Beltran called them up and said, ‘hey. Make up your minds.’ 

Have the characters actually talk about it and reach a conclusion and there ya go. But maybe the writers just didn’t know wtf they wanted to do with it and wanted to leave their options open. And then did nothing at all. 

Me, a Non-Shipper

Personally, I tend to agree with the Mulgrew side of things (and can also see why Beltran would be bored with the eternal holding pattern and not mind when they said ‘hey, you can kiss Jeri Ryan.’)

They developed the Tom/B’Elanna romance, which was great. We didn’t need non-stop romantic plots. I think the shippers could understand Kate’s reasoning and were willing to go with the slow burn...if the writers had actually sat down and decided that’s what they were doing. If only they hadn’t dropped the ball at the very end.

Here’s the thing: if you build up a relationship like that, you can’t be upset when people notice. And you can’t give up on it behind the scenes without telling the audience on screen. ‘There are some lines we never cross’ might have been an attempt, but was too late. And was certainly not closure. The audience deserved better. 

C/7? WTF!?

Well, if you thought there was no build up for it, it’s because there wasn’t. If you felt like it was whirlwind and came out of nowhere, it’s because it was, and it did. Apparently even in the writer’s room. 

Brannon Braga wanted Seven to die in the finale. He was writing her episodes to gear up for that. Human Error, the episode where Seven experiments with romantic ideas with a holographic Chakotay (with a kiss that was apparently the result of a dare Beltran made to Jeri), was written with Seven’s death in mind. It wasn’t supposed to be the opening salvo of an actual relationship. 

I think Seven of Nine should have bit the dust. I think there had to be a real sacrifice for this crew getting home, a real blood sacrifice. Seven of Nine was, for me, designed to be a character that was gonna die tragically. I planned that.... There’s an episode called Human Error that I wrote...she's trying to feel emotions. She actually succeeds and then almost dies. She learns there’s a Borg implant, that if she becomes too human, it will kill her. And it was that moment in my mind that would set up the finale, where she realized she can’t live here, she can’t live there. And she dies getting her family home. - Brannon Braga

I’m glad they didn’t go that way for various reasons. I love Endgame as it is. But it’s interesting to know the thought process. They weren’t gearing up for romance, they were aiming for tragedy. At least Braga was. 

Human Error was only about six episodes from the end. At the time of that writing, that's what was in at least his head. 

Human Error was not written with an eye toward a C/7 future. Without that episode I doubt highly C/7 would have been a thing. And it wasn’t even written to make it a thing.

Endgame obviously didn't go that way. Janeway-palooza instead. So. What do we do now? What to do with Seven? And from here on, all I have is speculation.

Retooling

'Well, we've got this holodeck scenario from the episode we wrote when we were planning to kill her off that hints that she might like Chakotay. So. I guess we'll go with that.' 

It appears to me that they retooled recently written story elements to fit their ending, to provide more motivation for that ending.

They picked the three people it would kill Janeway most to lose. Tuvok, obviously. An ongoing torment, visiting him every week. Seven dies (a remnant of plan A) and in a sense takes Chakotay with her. 

This is all fuel for Admiral Janeway without making it about saving her lover (unless you’re a J/7 shipper, in which case, hog heaven).

When you think of it only in terms of ‘what can we do to make the finale work’, it’s not terrible. When you think of it in terms of seven preceding years, it doesn’t work at all. They got myopic. 

In hindsight I think the writers could probably admit it was a mistake in terms of the show, and they should have resisted the urge to do something that was thrown together and jarring rather than nothing at all with Seven.

Gossip

Apparently neither Mulgrew or Beltran were opposed to C7 in the end. Maybe because they had at points been a bit frustrated with each other behind the scenes. Whether those frustrations were forefront in anyone’s mind at the time, idk. 

I tend to think Kate really was over the idea of Janeway’s destiny having much to do with romance at all.

It is interesting that when Seven first arrived on the show, Kate specifically mentioned not wanting the writers to throw her with Chakotay. At that point perhaps feeling a tad possessive. Perhaps didn’t want him ‘sullied’ by the busty blonde.

But this was seasons in the past by the time the finale rolled around, and I doubt highly it had anything to do with anything. Who knows. 

Me on Endgame

Personally, I'm glad Endgame was a Janeway palooza. I love 99% of Endgame. I’m glad it was about Janeway vs.Janeway vs. Borg Queen. I wouldn’t have wanted it to be about J/C either.

But if you’re not willing to go there, leave it then to the imagination. It's cruel to basically tell your audience that these two would be together if not for their delta quadrant circumstances, and then rip the rug from under them the second they get to the quadrant where this romance is supposed to be possible. Not cool, man. Not cool. 

When I first saw Endgame (as a non-shipper with eyes) C/7 was jarring and weird. But I thought the scene where Seven was distancing herself was well acted and stirred up an emotion or two (even if it was a little histrionic, considering they'd just started dating). So I wasn’t throwing things at my television. Just confused.

I also basically dismissed their future relationship. They got home after like one date, not ten years of marriage. And now their lives will completely change. So I just kind of hand-waved it away. "It did its job for the episode, but the future's changed and they won't last. So whatever."

Headanons on Janeway’s romantic reasoning and original timeline reaction to C/7

Captain Janeway had no idea how long it would take to get back home. Obviously you hope for tomorrow, but it could be twenty years from now. She resigned herself to not pursue romance. Her sole purpose in life was to get the crew safely home.

So I speculate her reaction to C/7 would be quite stoic. She would recognize it’s not fair for him to just pine away, possibly forever. That she has made this choice and he shouldn't have to be alone because of it. Her being alone is just part of the price she must pay, the burden she must bear. Her own wants and needs must take a backseat. She has greater responsibilities.

In fact, I can see her encouraging C/7. She would see it as a form of selfless love. ‘It doesn’t matter that he’s with me; it matters that he’s happy.’ Of course feelings would rear their heads from time to time, but she would quickly corral them into that channel.

Lots of lovely internal martyrdom. She would make it her mission to make sure they were both okay and happy. A bit of a masochistic streak that she buries under a sense of nobility and sacrifice.

This is the kind of angle I think Mulgrew came to prefer. That lovely little tragic pang. She loves drama, if nothing else.

“It’s a lonely thing, but I’m gonna get this crew home.” - Kate Mulgrew

“You always made it hard for yourself. If there was a rocky path and a smooth one, you chose the rocky one every time.” - Coda

This is a woman with a lot of love to give. But finds herself, or perhaps unnecessarily forces herself, depending on your view, in a place where that’s not a possible life choice. So those instincts expand outward, enveloping them all. She finds fulfillment in the well-being of the crew and the ship as a whole. 

Post Endgame

Their trip was shortened by a lot because of Endgame. The future is no longer written in stone. So the possibilities are endless, the sky’s the limit. And apparently Seven’s a lesbian (I haven’t seen it, but I hear tell). So. There ya go. 

(She is crying here, btw. I never noticed before I did that episode and feel the need to point it out once again. Lest anyone else still not have noticed.) 

If you actually read this whole thing, congratulations. Hopefully it made sense. I now continue with my rewatch and probably won’t talk much about this in the future. Unless something new comes up, I’ll just continue to be a non-shipper with eyeballs, enjoying whatever’s around. 

[aphaskengland-bitter-tea-drinker]

Okie dokie :) I hope you don't mind I organized the quotes chronologically and to each au to be easier:)

Au 1 -80's biker au

Arthur is at work at the cafe when bikers walk in, ( Ivan, Ludwig, Matt, and more)

Arthur- *disinterest glance at the costumers to the point it's an art form*

Arthur- what do you lads want. *flatly*

Ivan attempts to flirt kinda, trying to be friendly

Arthur- unfortunately yes. Apparently even school after college is expensive, who knew. *glares annoyed *

Orders are taken and the bikers converse

Ludi- no it isn't Matt, prostitutes are one of the oldest jobs in the world.

Ludi-so ivan. What's making you act like a twat

Ludi- if Ivan could get out here and stop failing to flirt with the waiter, it would be great

Arthurs co worker, feli. Flirts with Ludwig as is routine for every time the bikers visit

Ludwig- *sighs*

Ludi- * is deceased*

Ludi- no. Maybe.

Ludi- can we Please. Leave.

Peeps leave, feli asks why Arthur rejects all advances

Arthur- I'm not obligated to.

To change the awkward topic, Arthur tells feli about some weird stuff he saw, shifty stuffs. Crime breakin. Stuff

Arthur- *taps his temple* here and written one other place you'll never find

Feli freaks out and tells Arthur basically he can't tell anyone, Arthur says he should go to the police, and feli tells him he'd die if he went to the police

Arthur- *stares* ... well... I wasn't planning on living that long any long, besides, I won't tell them who told me feli.

Feli, realizing he has no choice, since he's part of the mob * dun dUn DuUn!* feli pulls a gun

Arthur- uh *backs up*

Arthur- *sputters incoherently*

Trap door, look I dunno

Arthur- *falling* WHY DO YOU Even have this......?! *hits the ground* ow fuck.

Arthur- Erghhh fuck

Arthur Escaped, but his full escape was blocked. By a person. In the way. Becuase Ivan forgot something. Damn. Seeing the gun, Ivan says something to the effect of "we are in trouble "

Arthur- no really? What could have possibly tipped you off

Uh bad guy- get back. Into the. Base-basement?

Arthur- no! If your gonna shoot me do it! This gravel will at least make it difficult to clean up!

Pistol whip! Yay!

Ok the pair wake up. In le evil mob basement, uh. Uh. And talk

Arthur- I don't study escaping kidnapping. I study cancer treatment. I'm pretty sure as a biker, dealing with hooligans is in your territory

Arthur- you should know, if we get caught. I'd sell you to Satan for a cornchip. And I don't even like corn chips.

More escApE

Arthur- *putting his shoe back on* ...I'm not as innocent as you might think and we are basically in this together now.

Basically Arthur is free, Ivan isn't. Ivan say leave without me I'm injured I'll only slow you down * self pity blah blah gonna be a "hero"*

Arthur finds this annoying so spite saving it is

Arthur- your not the boss of me.

Arthur- sorry i can't hear you over the sound of me saving you

Arthur help Ivan with his injury

Arthur- sucks to suck, if it helps, I'm top of my clasS

Arthur- at least buy me dinner first *joking nervously as he looks at the scary Russian who might kill him*

Arthur- ladies first *doesnt like cobwebs*

Arthur- sometimes *goes out of sight* the answer *dragging sound* is more obvious *pushes a chair up against the wall* then you think.

Arthur- *pulls himself up through the window* hah!

What a Clean escape! They get to a car and start their life on the run! Meanwhile feli does the same, knowing he'll get punished for fucking up. He also bumps Into a biker, the biker he often flirts with in fact. Ludwig, being ignorant to the situation ( and woo-ed) agrees to help feli

Ludwig- * laughs brightly* no * fixes it* the helmet on feli's head

While Arthur and Ivan continue their seamless escape, they get pulled over by a rookie police officer ( mr jett) but Ivan realizes since the city is corrupt even if this cop is good, Arthur and himself going to jail means the hands of the mob. He presses Arthur to open the car door into the officers face. A lot of silent whisper arguing later, Arthur assaults the officer with the door and drives away. Ivan thinking it would be good to say " nice job" he's wrong. Arthur is angry about being pressured into the life of crime. He just wanted to be a doctor, hence~

Arthur- JUST GIMME THE BLOODY DIRECTIONS YOU OFFICIOUS CUNT

Given the directions to the safe house by the very surprised Russian biker, they arrive.

Arthur- it's just. This no offense is the worst thing I've ever seen

The safe house is less than ideal. Very. Um. Loud?

Arthur- *wakes up* what the hell is that racket

Arthur- this is horrific. hOrrIFiC!

Arthur- *throws silent tantrum*

B-bonding?

Arthur- oh fuuuuucckkkkk you. Fuck you and your "I should be happy to be alive". This *gestures to the basement and then the noisy ceiling* is Not! My portrait of living. And I can't start over again! I can't. Your allotted only so many chances. And I've used mine.

Arthur- your an idiot.

Arthur- .... what the hell man.

Arthur- becuase id rather die a stubborn cunt than a fucking pussy!

LIKE A REAAAAALLLY LONG TIME LATER ARTHUR gets captured. Again. And naturally the following is how all would respond to a mob boss. Right? Right.

Arthur- *cringing* yes well that's what father Donavan said too.

Arthur- well I would prefer to go out with a bang- get it?

Au2

Single dads au, y'all know that other blog

Arthur- oh lovely now I actually have to work. *sighs*

Describing mental stability to boyfriend after traumatic experience

Arthur- all is tip top up here. * taps temple*

Arthur- I have a theory I broke when I was 17 in biology class and since then this is just who I am now and I can't get more stressed than I already am,

Arthur- I assume.

Arthur- I don't want him touching my stuff.

Arthur- *snorts* that's a bit pretentious don't you think?

Arthur- so... anything new

Ludwig being normal? Uh yeah? Normal teen boy person? No.

Ludwig- *remembers he's supposed to host* do you desire quenching?

Ludi- *looks at the ceiling fan.

Au 3 poet prince Ludwig

He's a poet and a prince that used to be a peasant but they discovered him of royal blood so know he's getting groomed. He's a psychic to make matters harder

His poetry

Laziness is the mother of efficiency, Being human is overrated, Like all things, it begs for death, She sleeps, misdemeanors dancing in her head

Buying a plant

Ludwig- *starring at the flytrap* this is how I want to die

Ludwig- to poison people? *interested ( looking at tomato plant)

Ludwig- *fools. I plan to procure many of them to kill me, not one giant one* thank you

Ludwig- *frowns slightly, *

Training

*has no training whatsoever the goal seems so just be hits some shit

Ludwig- ? Fight the tree?

Ludwig- *laying on the ground with his eyes closed * Gilbert "what are you doing Ludwig- *opens one eye* Ludwig- pretending to be dead

Ludwig- * wants to destroy all germs

Ghost conversing. Like you do

Ludwig- uh. Yeah well. Shouting out the window . Yeah

Ludwig- piano is cool... is that your grave outside?

Ludwig- ugh. All you've done is expose my deepest shame and confuse me

[parabellum-rpg-archive]

Congratulations, Meghan! You’ve been accepted to play Camila Perez. Please make your page and send it in within 24 hours.

Admin note: THIS WAS SO WELL WRITTEN. The fact that you added so much depth to Camila, beyond being seen as just ditzy. I feel like Camila is the lightness that we’ll all need to see on the dash. I’m here for it. 100%. - Admin V

CHARACTER DESIRED

Camila Perez.

DESCRIBE THE CHARACTER IN YOUR OWN WORDS

No need to rewrite the biography - but who are they to you? What are their goals, ambitions, or flaws? Here’s your opportunity to show us who this character is to you.

I love Camila. She’s deliciously bright, and worldly, and pleasure-seeking and wild and warm all at once. A lot of her interests read as shallow. I think it’s easy to dismiss her in that way— people mistake sociability and a bubbly nature for other things, and Camila doesn’t really help that perception with her love of material items. But she has a deep care and respect for her family, and a charm about her that draws people in. She’s fun! She has a gift of making others feel wanted, and when someone is with Camila, they get the full force of that magnetism. She’s the person that compliments other drunk girls in the bathroom, pulls even the most reluctant stranger along on one of her wild, debaucherous adventures.

As often as she is called a ditz, or stupid, there’s a vividness to her that can’t be ignored. Bright-eyed and curious, Camila is undeniably alive.

Maybe that curiosity drives her to a fault.

After all— curiosity is what entangled her in the city’s underbelly in the first place. Camila likes to weave her way in and out of these circles with a careless excitement. She indulges in the expensive booze, lounges with corrupt politicians and criminals without pausing to consider how they came into this position in the first place, and what exactly funded their wealth of resources. It’s not something she thinks about. Not the blood money, not what these men do when they’re not spending their cash on beautiful women. To some extent, its her naivete— the other part is willful ignorance. It’s easier for Camila that way. Calling her parents is easier, collecting her check and spending it on exorbitant handbags is easier too.

For now, the lifestyle has been without consequences. I think it would be interesting to see her interact with some of the grittier realities of crime, and maybe some of the darker characters who aren’t quite as charmed with Camila’s personality. (Not that she wouldn’t try her best to win them over). It’s a comfortable, if not chaotic bubble she’s been living in. And as willing as she was to dive into this world, to fully entrench herself with crime lords, she’s been dealt a pretty easy hand. I think it would be interesting to see if Camila balks at some of the more serious aspects, or goes into it willingly, determined to preserve her lifestyle.

Not that she’s probably considered that much: I think Camila is largely short-sighted. She likes gratification. it’s difficult for her to see personal value in things she deems unnecessary, or unpleasant. It’s not that she’s incapable of hard work— it’s just that Camila’s effort correlates directly with her interest. She has no trouble putting in extra hours to afford a new Birkin, but studying for a test seems like a near-impossible task. (It practically was).

Given the right reward, I think Camila is willing to do a lot.

Despite this, though, I think she has a hard time describing her ambitions as concrete and quantifiable goals. Since high-school, all she’s ever wanted was freedom— and now she has it. There’s no CEO position Camila’s vying for, no  grab for power. No long-term plans. But what she wants, she wants so badly— even if she’s just chasing something as vague as a feeling or sensation. Camila lives voraciously. She enjoys herself—and life— fully, no-half measures. She craves stimulation, and that’s what makes her so well-suited to her job. Smoke, sweat, tumbling ice, a new client every night, stories that end in broken heels and laughter. It’s overwhelming to some, but Camila simply wants more.

More dresses. More friends to giggle with. More stupid stories, more men tripping over their feet to give her their attention.

For now, Camila is very intent on living life the way she wants, even if others might dismiss it as shallow, or silly. It’s still hers. For all her faults, she is uniquely herself—no matter what trouble that could bring her.

Camila is chasing after things so fast, so carelessly, she’s almost euphorically dizzy.

WRITING SAMPLE

Provide as many IN CHARACTER samples as you like. At the very least, we expect three paragraphs written in third person. Aside from that, there are no rules. Please include anything you deem necessary.

The club is loud. Camila’s nails— obnoxiously fuchsia— click idly against the side of her shot glass. It needs filling.

“Hereee, babydoll.” The client to her left extends the almost-empty bottle, filling her own glass chivalrously.

The dimples in Camila’s cheek deepen; she titters and grins appreciatively.

“Ooh, thank you. My hero.”

He’s forty-six. Married, probably, salt-and-pepper hair with three mansions and a wallet that’s seeing a lot of action tonight. He shoves a wad of tips towards one of the servers bearing more champagne: the man stammers his thanks. She likes the generous ones.

“Didn’t think I was gonna let you go thirsty tonight, huh?”

The two of them have been anything but.

“So. Did you know—” She pauses, rakes her fingers through her hair enticingly. “—I once drank two forties before my SATs. Top to bottom, n’ everything.”

Tom—a perfectly boring name for a money launderer — likes wild stories. She can tell, in the way he keeps boasting about his own, trying to coax something out of her. Maybe it’s the mid-life crisis thing. Trying to re-live the good old days, the wild times, before this man’s life became board meetings and portfolio evaluations.

He smiles, skeptical but indulging.

“No way. Bullshit.”

“Yes way!”

“You did not drink before your SATs.”

Camila sighs. Fixes him with a drunk, demure pout.

“I can’t believe you don’t believe me.”

“—There’s no way you drank that much before the most important test of your life.”

The gloss to her hair shimmers gently as she fans it about her shoulders, raises an eyebrow to be purposefully coy.

“Who said it was that important?”

Tom’s laughter is more of a bark.

“Yeah, fine. I do actually believe you now.”

A gentle tongue click, and Camila ropes an arm around his, practically seated in his lap as she cranes her face towards his.

“Silly you for believing. It was rum, actually. And my high school exit exam— not the SATs, or whatever.”

“It’s okay though—” Her cheeks are warm, but she reaches for the champagne again anyway. It’s too early to stop. “—I still like you.”

He rolls his eyes with a good-natured snort, pleased to be the object of her gentle teasing.

It’s what he paid for.

“That was— very convincing. You’re like the Michael Jordan of lying.”

Camila slurps at her champagne delicately, eyes wide and sincere.

“I dunno who that is.”

Tom laughs hard, and flags down another server for more glasses.

(Okay. So she knew that one.)

It’s late. The night rolls on. Millionaires and billionaires slink in and out of their booths, in various states of inebriation, and Camila’s just passed drunk, moving well into inebriated. All of her limbs feel tingly. If she doesn’t focus hard enough, the room spins.

Her new friend seems to be in a similar state. Hiccups punctuate almost half of his words.

“That was pretty good— you’re good at lying! You ought to be a politician, hon.”

He’s teasing her. Even Camila knows that’s the stupidest thing she’s ever heard.

“Blegh.”

“No, I mean it. Like a senator, or something.” His tone’s taken on that indulgent tone again— halfway to patronizing.“It’d be fun.”

“Yeah? Why?” Camila’s eyes glimmer mischievously. “Would you be my mistress, if I was?”

The man gives her smug, sloppy grin.

“Sweetheart, I’d be your anything.”

Now Camila laughs, silly and delighted, when the buzz of her phone scatters her thoughts.

Her eyes catch a glimpse of the screen. Camila’s stomach begins to sink.

Oh, no. Oh, shit! Mild panic pools in her stomach, and she flashes Tom an apologetic smile before excusing herself to the bathroom, dropping the phone on the marble counter and staring at it with the uncontrolled intensity of a drunk.

Shit.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

Her parents were calling at the worst possible time.

There’s no way she can talk to them like this. Camila is far too drunk to hide her condition— she can feel the way her brain is sloshing around in her head, sloppy and useless. Her tongue is loose. She probably sounds a wreck, too.

The call goes to voicemail, and Camila tries to bury the deep knot of guilt in her stomach, fingers moving hesitantly along the keyboard.

“Working! Call u later. XO.”

She scans it twice for mistakes before sending.

There. Camila had told them, in another one of her lies, that she’d began working at a different restaurant, something more upscale— she’d explained the hours were longer, but the pay was better. That covered the late nights. It also explained the delicate drop-necklace she’d been able to afford recently, the pricey gifts she had brought them. Camila supposes she should feel guilty for yet another lie she’s spun. Instead, it’s much closer to relief. Like she’s given herself enough breathing room.

As senselessly gone as she was, Camila doesn’t want to shatter the illusion— the one of the little girl in her best and neatest dress, dutifully sent to and from Mass each Sunday. It was a long time ago. Even if that girl doesn’t exist any more— maybe never really existed— she’s not going to hurt her parents in that way.

It’s too glum a thought.

She can feel the frown formulating between her brows, a tiny stitch of worry which just won’t do. She’s here to have fun. She’s getting paid to have fun! A breath, a tiny wriggle in which she adjusts the tight hug of her dress, and she’s ready to head back out.

Camila stalks out across the floor, pleased at the way Tom’s eyes track her from his booth.

“Guess who got more fuckin’ boooooze!”

He waves a bottle of Macallan at her like a victory flag, glorious and expensive, and Camila is more than happy to slink back over into his lap.

—

The girls are jumbled mess on the floor, spread out and lounging like felines, preoccupied with the task of christening Camila’s new apartment. New apartment meant a night out to celebrate. A night out to celebrate meant the elaborate, often ritualistic task of getting ready.

Camila sits right at the center, taking stock of the chaos.

She can’t count the glistening bottles of nail polish scattered about, clacking merrily together as Maria selects the color. Palettes litter floor. Eyelash curlers. Phones, with their busy music apps and text messages, which Emma continues to glance at periodically.

But only between bitching about her latest client.

“He kept fucking going on about Nascar! Like, shares this, shares that, all that bullshit.”

Maria glances up from her nails, squinting warily in Emma’s direction.

“NASDAQ, is like, the stock market. Nascar is car racing.” A concerned beat. “You know that, right?”

Emma brushes it aside airily.

“Yeah. I just hate when they don’t shut up about business.”

There’s a pause while Camila corrects a smudge on Maria’s cuticle.

“I dunno, I think it’s kinda funny. They say a bunch of boring stuff to me and I just repeat back to the next client, and then they think it’s impressive.”

She straightens up self-importantly, deepens her voice.

“We need to talk about portfolio diversity for our clients— you and I both know we got killed last quarter. I’m not losing to those mothafuckers again.”

She giggles.

“See?”

There’s a loud sigh directly across from her.

“None of that made any sense.”

Camila chooses to ignore that! She gives the teal bottle of polish a vigorous shake, tongue poking out from the corner of her mouth with the effort.

“So do you want a daisy on the pinkie, or a heart?”

Before she can answer, Camila starts flicking the brush carefully about the nail, turning her finger this way and that to achieve the perfect stroke.

“I’ve been practicing my petal shapes.”

“If it looks like shit I’m taking it to a salon.”

“Bitch, I am the salon.”  

Maria still looks mutinous, but curiosity seems to have won her over. She finishes the other nail with an excited hum and a tiny clap, smiling over at her friend expectantly.  

An eyebrow raise.

“…It does look good.”

Victory. Camila smacks a loud kiss to her cheek.

“See! You doubted my skills.”

“I doubted your sobriety.”

She shrieks with laughter and snatches the other girls phone, promising retribution in the form of tinder.

“Just for that, I’m gonna match with you every guy named Chad.”