#jude & charlene 002.

[absolutesort]

FRANKIE, JENNY & CHARLENE — DAY THIRTY-SEVEN.

location :    kitchen.

description :  the three girls make food for their dates with victoria.

featuring :  jenny /  @blondcs   &  charlene /  @guttcd

𝐟𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐚 𝐜𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐨.

“i think i’m gonna do like… a crème brûlée type deal, zeke from high school musical style. she looks a bit like sharpay if i squint.” frankie notes, thinking aloud, propped up on the kitchen counters with a spoon full of melted chocolate pressed against her tongue. it wouldn’t be love island without the obligatory melted chocolate and strawberries combo to go with her dessert, pre-prepped and ready to go by some intern who drew the short straw. make sure you feed her a strawberry, and tell the camera assistant when you’re gonna do it.  “kinda wanna do it just so they give me a blow torch, y’know?”  

𝐣𝐞𝐧𝐧𝐲 𝐜𝐨𝐡𝐞𝐧

she’s halfway through pushing a slicer down an apple—the kind with handles on either side and a round spot for the core—struggling a bit when frankie stops her short. “crème brûlée?” there’s no way. “isn’t that like, super hard to make?”

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐬

right now charlene feels like she’s surrounded by a bunch of sharpays. three blondes one brunette. pretty hot. “zeke and sharpay should have been end game! have you ever made a creme brûlée before, frankie?.”  she calls out from the chopping section, sights focused on making sure she doesn’t cut a finger off. though if she really wanted to stand out… “what are you making, jenny?”

𝐣𝐞𝐧𝐧𝐲 𝐜𝐨𝐡𝐞𝐧

she finally gets the contraption down and the apple slices fan out like a flower. perfecto. “i’m doing a salad. nice, classic first course.” because if frankie’s considering crème brûlée, there’s no way she’s not gonna have something to say about that. “i was gonna do like, a caprese thing but there’s no way the store in town has good mozzarella, so… what are you making and will there be enough to share ‘cause you look mad legit over there.”

𝐟𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐚 𝐜𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐨.

“what, you don’t think i could do it?” bitch. honestly, she can kinda see why adela hates her — frankie’s relationship with jenny hasn’t exactly been sunshine, daisies, butter mellow either — but her lack of faith only makes frankie more determined. “i’ve spent literal hours of my life in a galley watching our head chef do it. it’s just ice cream, sugar and egg yolk.” she neglects to mention that she’s a kinaesthetic learner, not a visual one. “like… how hard can it be?” her eyes flicker over to charlene, hoping for some kind of confirmation that she isn’t massively unqualified for the job.

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐬

“salad! niiiiiice. keeping it classy. i’m making some jambalaya. im like, totally missing some spiced thoughts i don’t know how well it will turn out. i’ll totally save some for you though.” she offers jenny a little wink, like they’re sharing a secret. charlene almost certain that crème brûlée is a lot harder than what frankie is saying, but the blonde sounds so confident that charlene can’t help but give her a supportive thumbs up. “you got this! worst case scenario you could do one of those cute microwavable brownie mugs if the producers won’t give you a torch.” or if her attempt to make a five hour dessert in 45ish mins fails

𝐣𝐞𝐧𝐧𝐲 𝐜𝐨𝐡𝐞𝐧

“uh… not really?” she looks to charlene for backup. “that’s like, pastry chef, gourmet shit. just make sundaes or something or you’re gonna be stuck in this kitchen all friggin’ day.” even jambalaya seems complex for a love island meal but that could just be because jenny’s not entirely sure what jambalaya is. “do you know this is the second time they’re making me do this shit? as if i don’t hate cooking. they’re definitely punishing me.”

𝐟𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐚 𝐜𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐨.

at the mention of charlene's dish, frankie can't hold herself back from singing out "jambalaya! jambalayo..." to the tune of bamboleo by the gipsy kings, springing to life like someone's put twenty pence in and wound her up like a clockwork doll on mandy. "there's actually a country song about jambalaya... by hank someone. i don't remember, my dad would know it." not that anything she's saying is even important. even if charlene's encouragement only runs skin-deep, frankie shoots her two finger guns in response. despite the knowledge that miles wants to chat to charlene, a notion which doesn't exactly spark joy, she can't really bring herself to dislike her when she'd always assumed the two of them would be friends. but if she kisses him, she'll change her tune. "they'll give me a torch. chris loves me." frankie knows most of the production crew by name, often finds herself wandering about in places she shouldn't, asking the floor runners about their day. there's only so many times she can talk to the other islanders about how many siblings she has (four) and where she sees herself in five years time (just straight up vibing) without getting bored. "i'm gonna be stuck in this house all friggin' day anyway. and they probably won't let us leave the kitchen until like... they've got a fuck tonne of usable footage. might as well hone a skill." unlike jenny, who's decided that leaves is the way to go about it. "is salad your way of telling her to graft someone else?"

𝐣𝐞𝐧𝐧𝐲 𝐜𝐨𝐡𝐞𝐧

frankie with a torch sounds like a disaster waiting to happen, but jenny just presses her lips together in a tight line, rooting around the silverware drawer for a knife. there’s no rhyme or reason to the way she slices the plastic wrapping off the block of cheese she’s planning to cube up, but she doesn’t cut herself so everyone upstairs can shut up, thanks. and everyone downstairs too. “why, is creme brûlée your way of saying you’re interested?”

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐬

she has no idea what the hell frankie is singing so the only thing she can do to chime in is ask “do you like country music?” she’s from alabama or something right? “it’s so funny that we have to ask permission to use stuff like that. i get this is a rented space and we have to be careful but it’s like, borderline ridiculous.” unless frankie proves them right and burns the whole place down. there’s a beat of silence when jenny and frankie do their little back and forth of whether they are interested or not, meanwhile charlene has her attention on chopping up some sausages.

𝐟𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐚 𝐜𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐨.

“yeah, dude. dolly parton’s one of my favourite musicians of all time.” as a kid, on the long stretches of time when her mom would disappear, only returning to ‘borrow’ money, frankie would pretend that the reason she left was because she was secretly dolly parton, but no one at school or her dad was allowed to find out, or it would mean she had to stop visiting. sometimes, she thought her mom was speaking to her through dolly’s lyrics, the sound of it thrumming from a mug as she sunbathed on the hot tin roof of a trailer park. “i’m not interested,” frankie fires back, leaping down from the kitchen counter to check the temperature on the oven.  just competitive. “but you never know what powerful wish-granting abilities bombshells have. they could’ve told her whoever makes the best course gets hideaway or some crap.” and honestly, charlene and jenny are the two people in here she’d most want to beat to the prize.

𝐣𝐞𝐧𝐧𝐲 𝐜𝐨𝐡𝐞𝐧

“have you had to get advil yet? they act like it’s fucking adderall, and after this whole song and dance of ‘what hurts?’ and ‘rate your pain out of ten’ they only give you one.” what’s one advil gonna do for a pounding headache and… inflammation? by that logic, she can’t imagine them handing over the torch at all without some serious release forms. it’ll be a good test to see if the crew likes frankie as much as she says they do. “you think that… if you make the best food, they’re gonna give you the hideaway with miles? that makes literally no sense. have you seen the show?” plus, a salad could very well win best course, thank you very much. no accounting for taste…

[gotatext]

JUDE & CHARLENE — DAY TWENTY-NINE.

location :   dressing room.

time :   during the dry bit of the day when everyone’s bored shitless. 

description :  charlene paints jude’s nails and honestly when i’m on my death bed and they ask me what my regrets in life are it will be never getting the time to finish this thread.

featuring :    charlene  /  @guttcd

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐬

"kay, so should we paint them black or do you wanna look at all of the colors i have?"  she's holding jude's hand with one of her own, while the other is working  on buffing his nails with a light purple block. "i'm like, pretty good at nail art too. i could do a little smiley face or a lighting bolt if you're feeling fancy." how did they get here? probably jude picking at a hangnail and charlene offering to help by dragging him into a full on manicure session. 

𝗷𝘂𝗱𝗲 𝗱𝗲𝗺𝗽𝘀𝗲𝘆.

jude's never been a guy so insecure in his masculinity that he couldn't wear nail varnish. he's grown up with two sisters, he was one of the first in his secondary school to spearhead the earring movement ( "that's gay, bro" "nah, it's only gay if it's in the right ear, bro" )  and he's always been willing to let a girl guinnea pig him about a bit if it means they'll give him attention. "man, that sounds so cool. can you do like, checkerboards and shit? a little acid house smiley would tight as fuck, though."

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐬

she looks up from his hands to flash him a grin, pointing at him with the buffer in her hand. “you got it, babe. that’s so you. stick with me and you’re gonna be like, the e-boy of this generation.” cue the the snap and point gesture “you have nice nail beds so I could probably fit in a flame or write down ‘fck’ on one middle finger and ‘off’ on the other. flip people off in style!” she feels like jude would be into that.

𝗷𝘂𝗱𝗲 𝗱𝗲𝗺𝗽𝘀𝗲𝘆.

charlene's the best. if someone doesn't snap charlene up, maybe jude will. as if she'd even let him. "okay, i've got five fingers, so how about, flame on the thumb, 'f' 'c' 'k' across the middle ones, acid smiley on the pinkie finger, same on the other but with 'o' 'f' 'f', y'know?" for a moment, he snaps his hands away, stretching out his fingers. "can i do anything to help or whatever, or you just want me to sit looking pretty?"

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐬

ever since there first interaction, charlene has developed a weird sort of affection for jude. he was crass and kind of a prick and yet in the same breath... was also kind of a sweetheart? it's equal parts confusing and enticing. "hell yeah, you're gonna have the best nails in the villa. aside from my own of course." she wiggles her fingers, showing up her sparkly nail polish with a playful grin. "you can sit there and look pretty but if you want time to pass by faster you should totally tell me about you! hometown, how do you like it? siblings, you got any? favorite foods, you into spicy or more of a sweet tooth kind of guy?" she doesn't reach for his hand when he moves it way, but she keeps hers in position, closing and opening repeatedly in a 'gimme gimme' type of way.

𝗷𝘂𝗱𝗲 𝗱𝗲𝗺𝗽𝘀𝗲𝘆.

jude narrows his eyes at charlene’s nails, taking one of her hands in his and turning it over in his much larger one to examine each fingernail in turn. “yeah, they’re pretty fuckin’ good, actually. you could like… put this shit on tiktok. they love that crap.” by they, he means gen-z freaks like his sister siobhan. she’s running his socials right now, had practically jumped at the opportunity to do so. probably coming up with some bare funny captions, too. charlene pinches the air, and jude offers his hands, palms down, suddenly aware of how large and stumpy and coarse his fingers must seem.  “feel like i’m at the hairdressers. uh… okay. grew up in rochdale. it’s like, a suburb of greater manchester. it’s kinda fine, but actual manchester’s the tits. i love it, would live there forever if i could. i’ve got two half-sisters, aoife and claire, both older, one younger sister, siobhan. think i have a half-brother somewhere but i’ve never met him. siobhan’s my favourite person in the world, probably. uh… i like spicy shit. i used to do those hot ones challenges for shits and gigs. don’t have a sweet tooth. i like cats over dogs. i’m a sagittarius, if you’re into that?”  that feels like the most he’s spoken in one go on the show, except from trying to cover up his jenny mess last night with romi. not that it was even a mess—he helped her make drinks. no need to deep it. “what about you? tell me the fuckin’ charlene story… do you have any weird pets? phobias? you seem like the type to either have tarantulas as pets or be deathly afraid of them.” 

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐬

Always overjoyed to her a compliment, Charlene can’t stop herself from beaming at Jude. “Thank you so much! Maybe — I’m a total novice at it compared to some of my other friends. I have a friend who does celebrity nails, she goes crazy with it.” The moment she takes Jude’s hand back, she continues to work on buffing the shine out of his nail beds, eyes focusing on their hands. “You like the city then? Why don’t you live in actual Manchester.” The mention of Jude’s siblings brings Charlene to stop what she’s doing enough to look at him with a pouted lip. “Aaaaaw! That’s cool! I wish I had siblings. So you’re closest with your your youngest sibling? Are you the protective older brother type?” An impressed whistle escapes her then and she lowers her gaze to focus back on her handiwork. “Shit, Jude. Those hot one challenges are no freaking joke. Maybe after this you can get bag an hot wing interview guy. You’re into film, right? So you have any pets? Oh — Fire sign. I should have known. You totally have some spunk to you” Done with buffing nails, Charlene takes a moment to look into one of her bags as she speaks. “My story? Nothing super exciting honestly. Born in New Orleans but Ive been in New York for most of my life. Raised by my grandma and grandpa. Taught me everything I know about music. Did a couple of shit jobs after high school before landing my current gig at the lounge I work at.  I hate falling asleep in cars cus I have an irrational fear of the door opening and me flying out. I kind of hate sleeping in the dark. No pets – I live in one of those shitty dorm style studios. Barely enough room for me in there.” She pulls out a curve pusher,  using it to point at Jude. “Tarantulas are cute and fuzzy! I like them, but I would rather die than look at a centipede. No siblings. I like spicy food and sweet food. I think I’m more of a dog person but both are super cute. I’m an Aquarius. What are your phobias? Got any irrational ones?”