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artificialqueens · 2 years ago

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Galactica, Chapter 106 (Group Fic) - TheDane/Veronica

A/N: Click here if you’re looking for previous chapters (or here if you’d rather read on AO3). 💫

Previously: The Galactica Fashion Week Runway show went off without any major malfunctions.

This Chapter: Welcome to the Afterparty! Networking, awkwardness, flirting, drunken shenanigans and a threat of homicide (or not…we certainly didn’t hear anything).

***

There was a genuine smile on Fame’s face after the show closed, and Trixie could finally relax.

The show was a success. Everything was fine.

Of course, there would be the evaluations, the meetings, the press, the sales figures, but none of that really mattered if Fame wasn’t satisfied with what they had created.

In reality, Trixie just wanted to go home, to spend time with Katya, but he had promised Fame to hang around at the party, had even changed into a suit and tie for it, the jacket as always restrictive and uncomfortable. There were still plenty of shows, Raja and Fame would be leaving for Europe on monday at the latest, but as far as Trixie was concerned, his role at fashion week was fulfilled, at least until the late spring.

Trixie took a sip from his champagne flute. He had hesitated before grabbing one, his sense of solidarity towards Katya’s sobriety even fiercer now that she was pregnant, but he was allowed a glass to celebrate a well-received collection.

“Trixie!”

Trixie coughed, nearly choking on his drink as he came face to face with none other than Chad Michaels. Chad was one of New York’s most well known philanthropists, and therefore also someone that everyone in fashion had some sort of working relationship with, since she constantly needed new fabulous clothes.

Chad was in her 60s, but that didn’t stop her from enjoying and experimenting with fashion, her dress for the night a gorgeous Galactica in beautiful cranberry red from the holiday collection.

“Just the man I needed to see!” Chad smiled as she grabbed his elbow, a slightly manic look in her eyes, heavy jewelry dangling from her ears, the scent of Chanel reaching his nose. “The closing dress. Has anyone claimed it? Please tell me I’m the first one!”

“Ah.” Trixie should have expected that Chad wanted to buy it. She was one of their most loyal customers, constantly photographed in their designs, and never shying away from praising the brand. Of course she would want Violet’s dress. Their newest designer had really outdone herself yet again. “I’m really sorry, but I think it’s an archival.”

The Galactica archive was something to behold, Ivy guarding it with her life, the room temperature controlled and as secure as any bank vault. Trixie hadn’t heard Raja make the final decision, but he had seen the look on Fame’s face, had felt the mood shift amongst the audience as they were moved by the piece.

It was too early to tell, but Trixie wouldn’t be surprised if fashion journalists would look back at this very show as a pivotal moment in Galactica’s history.

“I’ll be damned.” Chad sighed heavily. “I was hoping to wear it for the Met.”

“You haven’t decided on a dress?” The Met Gala was only three months away, the first Monday in May approaching at a worrying pace.

“I thought I did, but nothing truly inspires. You know how it is.”

Trixie nodded. Unsure of what to do, how to help, when he spotted exactly who he needed in the crowd.

“Violet!”

Violet turned, and he beckoned her over. She walked towards them, and as Trixie took in her bright eyes, the pink flush of her cheeks, he realized that she must be quite tipsy. He wondered if bringing her over was a mistake, but too late now. So instead he put an arm around her shoulders.

“Violet is one of our most fabulous couture designers. She designed the closing look that you love so much.”

“You did?” Chad asked, eyes widening as she took Violet in.

“Yes.”

“Congratulations dear,” Chad said, lifting her glass in a toast. “You have a great talent.”

“Thank you.”

“Now, of course, I’ll talk to them about the dress you want, but if I can’t make that happen, what would you say to this extremely talented young lady whipping you up something custom for the Met Gala?”

Violet turned to him, a panicked look on her face, gripping his jacket. “But, Raja-”

Shit. He hadn’t told her that Raja rejected all of her designs, or that he’d enlisted other concepts from Aurora, because he didn’t want to stress her out this week, not with everything she was dealing with being back in Fame’s office. And he certainly couldn’t explain all that right here, right now. He leaned in and spoke softly, under his breath.

“Don’t worry, we’ll work it out. Just play along, we’re making a sale.”

Violet nodded, and turned back towards Chad with a smile, who was looking at them with a delighted expression, hands clasped together.

“Well that sounds divine! With your design genius and my impeccable taste, we’re bound to blow them all away!” Chad smiled, then glanced around before lowering her voice conspiratorially. “Granted, I do wish the theme was better, but…whatever Anna says goes, eh?”

Trixie laughed, and looked over to see that Violet was giggling too. He relaxed a bit, feeling good, that Violet and Chad would at least get along fine, and that maybe this way she wouldn’t be too heartbroken about losing the Raja job.

***

“Okay,” Symone exclaimed, lifting her arms in the air. “Who’s ready for the next round?!”

“Almost,” Adore laughed, her arm draped loosely around Tati’s waist, pulling her in to say, “Have I told you how much I like your new roommates? They’re fucking fun.”

“They are,” Tati giggled, “but not good at pacing themselves.” Tati lifted her cocktail, the vodka soda a model standard that Adore knew all too well. “I’m not even halfway done with this one, how are you ready for another round?”

“These drinks are free and the booze is premium. Keep up!” Symone exclaimed, clapping her hands. “Right, Bim?”

“One sec.” Bimini tossed back the last of her whiskey and set the glass down on the table heavily. “Alright, love. Lead the way.”

“Yaaaas!” Symone pranced towards the bar, Bimini following close behind.

Tati turned to Adore, shaking her head. “I thought we drank a lot, but those girls. They fucking drink. It’s a little worrying. I mean, we’re like, at work.”

“You’re cute,” Adore laughed some more, pressing a kiss to her cheek. She’d been thoroughly annoyed when Bianca left, but maybe it was for the best. After all, now she had a chance to hang out with Alaska, Tati and her friends, and avoid the tense adult drama altogether.

“Thanks.” Tati smiled, then lowered her eyes, biting her lip.

“You okay, babe?”

“Yeah…um…I should probably tell you something.”

“Okay?”

Tati closed her eyes and sighed.

“Wait, what’s wrong?” Adore asked, squeezing her forearm. “You’re freaking me out!”

“I’m sorry. It’s probably not that big a deal, just…so, when we were backstage, Pearl was walking around. Taking pictures and shit.”

“Oh. Right.” Adore was trying not to think about her ex, wandering around the party, though of course she knew she was there. Maybe someday it would be possible to be in the same room as Pearl and ignore her presence entirely, but unfortunately, Adore hadn’t reached that stage just yet.

“Anyway…” Tati played with the cuffs of Adore’s jacket, biting her lip. “She clearly didn’t recognize me. Or like, remember that we’d hung out like ten times while y’all were dating, because…um…”

“She hit on you, didn’t she?” Adore asked. She could see how clearly uncomfortable Tati was, and wanted to end her suffering as quickly as possible.

“Yeah. But I told her to fuck off! I mean, I didn’t quite say ‘fuck off,’ cause I was like, not trying to get fired, but she got the message loud and-”

Adore wrapped her arms around Tati and pulled her in for the biggest, warmest hug.

“I love you so much.”

“I love you too! You’re not mad, are you?” Tati asked, face tucked into her neck.

“At you? Of fucking course not!” Adore pulled back, taking both of Tati’s hands in hers. “But…I mean, thank you, for being loyal and shit. But…do you like her?”

“No! After how she treated you? I think she’s an asshole,” Tati said.

Adore grinned and nodded, squeezing her hands. In spite of feeling absolutely self-righteous about it at the time, Adore had been feeling some creeping guilt about the way she’d handled things with Dahlia. Maybe the situation wasn’t as black and white as she’d first assumed. Especially after her recent conversations with Aja, and getting back into band practice.

“Okay,” she said. “But…I mean, we’ve both moved on, obviously, so…if you did like her-”

“Bitch, she didn’t deserve you, which means she doesn’t deserve me,” Tati said, with a toss of her long, dark hair.

Adore laughed, hugging her again.

“I love you, so much.”

“You said that already.”

“I know. But I really do.”

“Same,” Tati replied, lashes fluttering.

“Uhh…hi? Am I interrupting something?” asked a voice, and Adore turned to see Alaska, looking a bit awkward, albeit fabulous, in a leopard-print pencil skirt and cropped black cardigan with turquoise trim, appletini in her hand.

“Lasky!” Adore broke away from Tatianna and threw her arms around Alaska, exclaiming, “Everyone looked amazing, omigod! Where have you been?!”

“Hi, thanks! Uh, long story, one of the freelance artists had an issue, but everything’s fine now. Are you guys, um…” her eyes darted back and forth between Adore and Tati.

“Yeah, yeah, we’re good. Just having a bestie moment. Obviously you know Tati. You’re the one responsible for her face looking like fucking perfection.”

“Me and some stunning genetics, yup. Hello, Tatianna,” Alaska held out a hand for a strangely formal handshake. “Incredible work on the runway today.”

“Hi again,” Tati said, “Thanks.”

“So…I guess your sister’s not here?” Alaska asked.

“Don’t get me started,” Adore said, rolling her eyes.

“Right. Well, please tell her I said hi. I was looking forward to chatting about the makeup shoot.”

“Sure.”

Alaska took a sip of her drink, arm wrapped around Adore’s waist. After a beat, Tati and Adore exchanged a look. The energy was slightly weird, but Adore couldn’t exactly put her finger on why. Luckily, before she could worry too much, Bimini and Symone returned with the next round and soon everyone was chatting, the awkwardness forgotten.

***

“Hey, stranger…”

Karl turned to see Detox, his hair a cool, wintery blue that matched his sport coat, a wicked smirk on his face. He’d meant to say hi to him before the show, but had gotten stuck in traffic and only arrived with moments to spare, sliding into his seat just in the nick of time, his heart pounding at the thought of incurring Fame’s infamous wrath.

“Hi!” Karl pulled Detox in for a hug, kissing him on the cheek. “Why do you look like the cat that swallowed the canary? Got some big scoop?”

“Well, sort of, but unfortunately, not one I can use,” he said.

“Why not?”

“The girls are still fighting,” Detox said pointedly, raising his blue brows and shaking his head.

“Ugh, that again?” Karl rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, Bianca shot out of here like a bat out of hell, the second the show was over. Made some sorry excuse about another commitment.”

“It’s been literal months,” Karl said, “Don’t they have anything more interesting to worry about?”

“Why don’t you ask Fame?” Detox suggested, nodding towards the woman of the hour, who was striding towards them, her cream-colored cape billowing behind her, a beautiful woman in pale pink at her side. Detox sipped his drink, giving Karl another gleeful sideways glance. A dare.

Well, two could play that game. Karl pursed his lips and cocked his head, asking, “Why don’t you, tough guy?”

Detox blinked, and then his smirk grew slightly as he turned towards the women.

“Fame!”

Fame stopped and turned to them, her typically placid hostess smile on her face.

“Hello my darlings. How are you? Did you enjoy the show?” She walked forward, giving each of them air kisses.

“It was divine as always,” Karl cooed, happy to hang Detox out to dry on this one.

“Yes, wonderful,” Detox said. “And-”

“I’m sorry, I don’t believe we’ve met. I’m Karl Westerberg, Elite London.” Karl reached out to the young woman beside Fame, offering his hand, as Detox rolled his eyes, annoyed at the interruption.

“Hi. Shea Coulee. I’m a journalist, doing a profile of Miss Fame for Vogue.”

“Vogue, did you say?” Karl raised an eyebrow, just slightly. That certainly was interesting. “Fabulous.”

“Speaking of Vogue,” Detox cut in. “I noticed a certain someone seemed in an awful hurry to get out of here after the show.”

“If you mean Ms. Wintour, she’s right over there,” Shea said, gesturing to the other side of the party, where Anna Wintour was talking to Grace Coddington and Vanessa Van Cartier.

“No, I didn’t mean Anna. I meant…another Editor-in-Chief we all know…” Detox said, a shit-eating grin spreading across his face. “And I was just wondering if you had any opinions, thoughts…feelings to share about that?”

“I’m sure I have no idea what you mean,” Fame said. “And I’m also sure that if you keep gossiping about things in this manner, that I have a way to kill you that won’t ever be traced back to me.”

Fame smiled at him, the icy one with daggers in her eyes she reserved for special times.

“You do realize that you just threatened homicide in front of a witness and a journalist, right?” Detox asked, eyes wide with feigned shock.

“Doesn’t that tell you how absolutely sure I am that I won’t even be a suspect?” Fame asked, that smile back that should have terrified Detox more than it apparently did. It certainly terrified Karl. “Besides, Karl didn’t hear anything, did you Karl?”

“Hear anything about what?” Karl asked quickly, playing along.

“Traitor!” Detox muttered.

“I assume this conversation is off the record?” asked Shea.

“Well,” Fame twirled the stem of her champagne glass, looking Detox up and down slowly. “Is Detox important enough that it matters?”

Shea smirked, catching on perfectly, mimicking her supercilious gaze before saying, “Probably not.”

“Good,” Fame answered.

Detox opened his mouth as if to protest, but nothing came out.

Fame patted him on the shoulder, smoothing down his lapel with a victorious smirk.

“Bye, boys. Behave,” she said, turning on her heel and sashaying off, Shea right at her side.

***

Bob technically wasn’t supposed to have a tray, but all it took was a little of his signature charm, some flirting with one of the servers, and bam! Now he had nearly 20 shots he could easily carry back to his table. On the way, he spotted little Violet, who looked like she’d had a few herself, all alone.

“Violet!” he called, grinning.

“Oh, hi!” she looked up and smiled back. She was wearing a black dress with long sleeves and a high neck, the outfit screaming unimportant assistant.

As he approached, he made sure the shots were balanced before slinging an arm around her. It was nice that Upstairs let them attend these parties in the first place. Bob sure wasn’t gonna be the one to give them a reason to stop.

“Hey girl! What are you doing all by yourself? Where’s Sutan?”

“Working-“

“Boring!” Bob groaned and Violet giggled, a smile of her lips as she brushed some of her hair behind her ear.

“Actually, I was just talking to-“

“Is it work related?”

“… Yes?”

“Then I don’t want to hear it tonight.” Bob looped his arm with Violet’s. “Come celebrate with us! Everyone wants to toast to you and that finale dress! You fucking slayed the house down!”

Violet laughed and rolled her eyes, following him to the table where some of the other designers were waiting, along with a few friends.

Kade, especially, seemed thrilled to see her, squealing and throwing his arms around her, then immediately pressing a shot into her hand. Several rounds later, Sutan finally showed up, looking a bit frazzled and worried, but recovering nicely as soon as he saw that his girlfriend was all in one piece, safe and emotionally sound.

“Sutan!” Violet gave an uncharacteristic yelp of delight, throwing her arms around Sutan’s neck and placing sweet kisses all over his face, Sutan laughing at the unexpected shower of pecks.

“Heyyy, it’s the boyfriend of the year!” Bob said, looking up at him with a grin as Sutan pulled away from Violet, carefully unpeeling her.

“Hi, Bob,” Sutan smiled. “Nice to see you again.”

“Likewise.” Bob nudged Maxwell on the shoulder, knowing his boyfriend’s little crush was something that gave him endless embarrassment. “Maxwell, say hi to Sutan.”

“Stop it,” Maxwell hissed, then said, “Hi Sutan. Thank you for, um…the models.”

He cringed, and Bob patted him on the back.

“I hope they were well-behaved. Especially the new ones,” Sutan said.

“Oh, oh yeah, they did a great job,” Maxwell said.

“There ya go, that wasn’t so hard,” Bob whispered.

“I hate you,” Maxwell said under his breath, through gritted teeth, the smile still plastered over his face. He focused back on Sutan, offering, “Would you like to have a seat?”

“Oh, that’s alright, I’m just here to check up on Violet,” he said, passing her a drink.

“Are we leaving yet?” Violet asked, confused.

“No, no. I still have laps to make. You just stay with your friends. I simply wanted to make sure you were alright and still here. I’d hate to have to sacrifice another set of shoes later.”

Violet’s eyes bulged open. “Sutan!”

“What?” Kade asked, confused. “Shoes? What’s he talking about?”

Bob perked up, deeply interested. What could have made her react so strongly? This sounded like a story he had to hear.

“Nothing! He’s talking about nothing!” Violet said, shooting a death glare up at him making Sutan laugh.

Bob smiled to himself, lifting another shot to his lips. He’d keep that one under his hat for now; he could always grill Ms. Chachki later, maybe trade it for something once she was back in design.

Kade leaned forward, resting his chin on his knee, gazing up at Sutan. “Has anyone ever told you that you have real Daddy energy?” he asked, lashes fluttering.

Maxell immediately turned as red as a beet and elbowed him hard in the ribs.

“OW!” Kade shrieked. “What?! He does!”

“Thank you, Kade,” Sutan laughed, “I think?”

“You’re welcome,” Kade said, leaning back, a smug grin on his face. He stuck his tongue out at Maxwell for good measure.

Maxwell turned to Bob with a scowl, muttering, “Next time you bring him, don’t forget the shock collar.”

“Have another drink, Cracks,” Bob said, handing over a shot.

“Um…” Violet looked up at Sutan, blinking slowly. “I actually think I have…had one or two more than I…um…”

“Are you saying you want to take off?” he asked quietly.

“Yes,” Violet said. She extended her arm and let Sutan pull her up into a standing position.

The guys called out their farewells, with Kade sure to sneak in a “Bye Daddy!” before diving into Bob’s lap for protection from Maxwell.

***

“Mmh,” Raja hummed against Raven’s lips, the two of them kissing. She knew it was the Galactica party, and that she should mingle as much as possible, but Raven was just utterly irresistible tonight.

There was nothing sexier than a Raven who glowed with confidence, who oozed the knowledge that she was hot, that knew she had done a good job, and few things boosted Raven as much as a fashion show gone well.

Raja moved, pressing Raven against the wall, holding her by the waist and kissing her neck, the scent of perfume filling her nose.

“Raj-” Raven moaned, cutting herself off, nudging her with her face. “Raja. My hair.”

Raja looked down, a strand of Raven’s hair caught in her watch, black and silver tangled together.

“Fuck.” Raja moved, which made Raven wince, a laugh escaping both of them as Raven grabbed her wrist and carefully freed her hair.

“Sorry.” Raja wrinkled her nose, settling her hands on Raven’s hips, giving her a squeeze as she leaned in to kiss her again, when Raven suddenly pulled away.

“Violet!” Raven waved, her boobs pressing against Raja’s chest, her fiancée practically crawling over her shoulder. “Over here!”

Raja turned her head, watching as Sutan and Violet came towards them, her brother smiling and waving back. Violet was clinging to his arm, leaning on his shoulder, and Raja couldn’t help the stab of annoyance at the sight, Violet practically acting like she owned him.

They all greeted each other, Raven grabbing Violet and hugging her tightly as Sutan pressed a kiss against Raja’s cheek, his low rumble switching to Indonesian.

[Congratulations] Sutan pulled back slightly, [on another job beautifully done.] He grinned, his eyes sparkling, delight dancing in his expression. [You up to split a cab?]

[Not sure I should leave yet. It’s sort of my company.]

[Oh yeah, and you’re doing so much networking over here], Sutan chuckled, wiping a bit of Raven’s lipstick off of the corner of her mouth.

“Touché,” Raja smirked, allowing her brother to touch her. [Okay, let’s go home.]

“Ooh! I know that word!” Raven perked up, making both Raja and Sutan laugh. “We’re leaving, right?”

“I’m glad to see your language studies are finally picking up, Raven.” Sutan smiled. “It took what? Five years?”

“And for that…“ Raven reached out, taking Sutan’s tie between her fingers, “you can come get the jackets with me.”

Raja hadn’t expected Raven to volunteer, such a menial task something she usually let others do for her, her fiancée the exact spoiled brat Raja herself had created.

She watched her walk away, but then, Raven glanced over her shoulder, a smoldering look in her eyes, a swing in her hips, and Raja realized that it was a tease just for her, leaving her behind with nothing for company but the throb of her clit.

That, and Violet, of course.

Violet was leaning against the wall, apparently completely content not to speak, her normally shrewd eyes wandering listlessly over the crowd, head lolling back. She definitely wasn’t her typical put-together self. Too many drinks from the open bar after a day of running around on an empty stomach, she suspected.

Raja didn’t think she hated Violet, but she didn’t have anything to say to her that wasn’t about work.

Unless…

The Galactica party was - obviously - filled with beautiful women, and Raja was struck with an idea. She quickly swept the crowd, looking for someone, anyone, that stood out from the rest. This would be the perfect time to get her uncensored opinions.

She tried to remember which model Violet had been enamored with during the casting—unfortunately, she was so annoyed in that moment that she forgot to make note of the girl, but she did seem to remember that it wasn’t one of the waif-y stick-thin ones, and she was pretty sure it wasn’t a white girl, either.

She spotted someone just right, heading towards the bar. One of their influencers, a sexy Filipino girl with an ass to die for (especially in the thigh-high Louboutins she had on), her long, glossy curls bouncing as she walked.

“What do you think of her?” Raja nudged Violet’s arm, pointing out the young woman with a subtle nod of her head.

“Marina Summers?”

Raja smirked, not really surprised that Violet knew the name of everyone at the party, even in this state. She was Fame’s assistant after all, so she had probably pored over the guest list, making sure to memorize it all, in case Fame needed it.

“Yes, her. Cute outfit, right?”

“Mmm. I like her handbag. Very on trend right now,” she said, a slight slur in her voice.

Raja rolled her eyes. Marina was wearing a low-cut, backless mini-dress that barely covered her ass, but of course her handbag was what Violet commented on. Raja decided to try again, gesturing to a stunning girl with rich, dark skin, an hourglass figure, and a fur coat hanging off her shoulders. All she wanted was for Violet to drunkenly comment on her body, her tits, something she could use.

“What about her? Isn’t she pretty?”

Violet turned to Raja with a puzzled expression, blinking slowly. “Are you trying to find someone for a campaign?”

Raja cringed inwardly, realizing what a nightmare it would be for her if Violet repeated their conversation back to Raven. She was disappointed that her plan had failed, but better that than to get in trouble.

“Yeah. We’re…well, I had an idea to maybe bring some more faces on board for this year’s resort collection. Not just models, but maybe some people with real followings,” she said, covering quickly, adding, “I haven’t talked to Pearl or Alyssa though, what do you think?”

“Oh, uhh…that’s not really my area.”

“Fair enough.” Raja sighed, noting with some relief that Sutan and Raven were heading back their way. “Looks like you’re off the hook.”

***

“Don’t be a stranger, okay?” Pearl said, winking.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” the older woman purred, vodka oozing from her pores as she leaned in to press her lips to Pearl’s cheek.

Pearl knew that working the room was an important part of her job. (Especially her current company, a brand manager who had been giving them free liquor and bartenders at every party for the past three years in exchange for a rather modest company credit on Galactica’s website.)

However, she’d been at it all evening, and it was starting to get a bit tiresome. Even professional schmoozers needed a break once in awhile. So as soon as she’d extricated herself from the woman’s clutches, she took a deep breath and looked around for a friendly face, maybe a coworker with whom she could chill for a few minutes, just to catch her breath. Luckily, a couple of designers were nearby. And to Pearl’s delight, she noticed that April was among them.

She wondered why she’d never paid much attention to April previously. After all, she was definitely hot, and talented, and if their conversation earlier was any indication, she liked to play. Pearl fixed her face into a sad expression and approached the designers, looking as dejected as possible.

“Good lord, Pearl!” Blu exclaimed. “Are you alright?”

Pearl heaved a dramatic sigh. “Yeah…”

“Oh my god…” April muttered, shaking her head.

“What’s wrong?” Gia asked.

“I just, um…have been having a rough…” Pearl sighed again.

“You’re fucking ridiculous,” April said. She laughed and took a sip of her drink.

“April!” Blu admonished.

“Guys, she’s full of-”

“I thought you said that you’d talk to me about…nevermind, I’m sorry to bother you…” Pearl hung her head and turned slowly, taking a few steps away from the table.

“Pearl! Don’t go!” Gia cried. “April, what’s wrong with you?!”

“Ay dios mio…”

April hurried to catch up with her, just like Pearl hoped she would, grabbing her arm.

“Would you knock it off?” she hissed into her ear.

Pearl turned to her with a mischievous smirk. “Knock what off?”

“You are some piece of work.” April rolled her eyes.

“You love it.”

“I need another drink if I’m gonna hang out with you.”

“So, you do want to hang out with me, then,” Pearl said triumphantly.

April scowled at her, but then a smile began to crack through, and she turned on her heel, marching towards the bar. Pearl followed, checking out her pert little ass in the process. Very nice.

“Hey, can we get two double shots of Don Q rum?” April asked the bartender.

“You tryin’ to get me drunk?” Pearl asked, flashing a grin at her as she slid in beside her.

“I’m trying to make the experience of being with you more enjoyable,” April replied.

“Wow. A dagger, straight to the heart.”

April laughed, taking the shots from the bartender with a nod and shoving one towards Pearl, letting their fingers touch briefly. She bit her lip, looking at Pearl in the eyes, raising her glass. Pearl lifted hers as well.

“Salud,” Pearl said.

“Salud,” April replied, a smile pulling at the corners of her mouth before tossing back most of the rum in one gulp.

Pearl grinned, impressed, downing hers as well.

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artificialqueens · 6 years ago

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Searching, Waiting, Looking -Ch02- (Trixya) - Pichitinha

A/N: it took me 84 years but I’m back with a second chapter. This is as cliche as the first one, a little bit longer and overall gay. It’s also on AO3 and I’m here on tumblr as @pichitinha

Chapter 2 - We’re all patiently impatient

Trixie makes absolutely sure that she’ll be at least fifteen minutes early to their agreed coffee meeting because the first time she’d met Katya had been the first time she’d been late to anything in ages and she already hates that that’s the first impression she caused. Granted, Katya hardly looks like the type of person that would hold it against her, but that was a fluke, it’s not who she is, and it’s important for her that Katya knows that. So she’ll be her usual Trixie early, ready for anything with her entire schedule planned out for her - both in her brain and in her little planning book where her whole life is stored, really - and wait for Katya if she has to. She doesn’t mind waiting, she’s used to it, but she wants Katya to know what kind of professional - what kind of person - she is.

As she’s crossing the street to the little café they agreed to meet at, though, she can see Katya turning the corner and arriving at the same time. Maybe she also likes to be early to everything. That’s a quality Trixie loves in people, especially those she has to work with, so she hopes it’s true. Katya looks serene, a bit lost in her thoughts, and it tugs a smile to Trixie’s face.

“Katya, hey!” She waves as she’s crossing once she and Katya are close enough that she doesn’t have to shout. Her outfit today is more tasteful - well, it’s less horrific, more normal and fitting for an afternoon out in a coffee shop, but the pattern is still troublesome and Trixie’s really curious as to how she always makes her looks work when they’re actually are super ugly. Maybe she’s just really naturally pretty.

“Oh, hey! You’re early.” Katya hugs her quickly, more of a squeeze with one arm than an embrace, and Trixie can faintly gather the smell of her shampoo, something light and breezy that she can’t really place but that makes Trixie think of dandelions flying in slow motion and that somehow matches the way Katya’s hair dances in the light wind that’s hitting them on the sidewalk. It’s poetic, almost, and it widens her smile a little.

“I usually am, yesterday was a complete rare event, I swear.” Trixie feels the need to explain herself, for some reason she really wants Katya to be assured of her personal qualities.

Katya merely raises both her hands as if in surrender. “Hey, I’m not the time police. It’s fine. Let’s go in, I really need a coffee.”

They find an empty square table at the back of the café where the light isn’t great - which explains why most of the students in the place are crowded at the tables at the entrance where the sun is peeking through the window - but it’s quiet and there’s space to spread sheets on the surface and it’s not on the way to anything so there shouldn’t be people walking by. Katya orders a black coffee, Trixie sticks with a tea, and soon they’re seated in silence and Trixie wonders where the hell one starts planning a wedding.

(She’d googled it, of course, for hours the previous night. She’s still lost, though. She has no idea what she’s doing. But she’s doing it anyway.)

“So,” Katya looks just as lost as she is, but she’s still very joyful. “How about we play a bit at our actual jobs of pressing a button in a camera and throwing flowers around in a room before we dive into, you know, planning an entire wedding from beginning to end with zero experience?” She places both her elbows at the table as she speaks, rests her head on her hands and opens a very large but clearly dry smile as she finishes her sentence, and Trixie can’t help the laugh - or rather scream, as her friends have complained she does - that escapes her throat. She looks very cute like that, younger somehow with the two pigtails she has adorning her face, and Trixie can see in the hollows of her cheeks the coat of foundation she’s wearing.

“Yeah, ok, that’d be good.” She smiles and settles comfortably into her chair. Katya is as easy to talk to as Sasha had mentioned. “I do more than throw flowers around a room though, sometimes there are ribbons.”

“Oh my, how could I forget the ribbons!”

They laugh together and both start digging papers and photos out of their portfolio bags. They turn to each other, each with a huge stack of things at hand, and both giggle again.

“You go,” Trixie offers, settles her things on the empty chair next to her and watches as Katya spreads a few simple wedding pictures on the table.

Trixie’s barely glanced at them but her jaw drops immediately.

“Ok, so these are some weddings I did where the theme was like fall, which is kinda boring if you ask me, but anyway. So each was with a different decorator and idea, of course, but this is a type of photo I always like to get with the couple no matter what type of wedding it is and I think it translates well, no matter what’s going on around them. What do you think?”

Katya has her eyes on the photos as she speaks, her eyes fidgeting over them as if she is nervous, but now as she asks Trixie the question she can feel her eyes on her, questioning. She doesn’t look at them, though, can’t tear her own eyes away from the raw emotion that’s displayed on the photographs on the table. The scenery is different for all of them, the colors matching in the pastel and hazel fall setting but different in every other aspect, and the poses each couple is in also differs - there’s a man and a woman locked on an embrace, their faces almost touching but their eyes closed, expression serene, and there’s one with two men, one hugging the other from behind with his head buried on his neck, their eyes also closed and happy little smiles, and the others all follow the embrace and eyes closed pattern, but in different ways, different expressions, different everything.

Except for the feeling. Trixie isn’t sure how she does that - how she gets the couple to portray exactly what she has in mind, even - but she feels pure and unadulterated contentment when looking at each and every one of them. She feels calm, in peace, and a little bit in love herself - with what she doesn’t know, but she feels it.

Sasha wasn’t lying when she praised Katya’s work. She has no words.

“I… these are phenomenal, Katya. Like, truly magnificent.”

“Oh, please.” Katya waves her hand, makes light of the situation, but a quick glance is enough for Trixie to notice the faint blush on her cheeks. It’s adorable, really.

“I’m serious, there’s so much emotion in these. How do you do that?”

Katya shrugs sheepishly, lets her fingers roam the pictures as if she’s reminiscing.. “I don’t know. I just… that’s why I became a photographer, you know? It was never about photographing something but rather what that photograph would mean. Does that make sense?”

Weirdly, it makes all the sense in the world to Trixie. That’s why she never sold herself as a wedding decorator per se but ended up doing those almost exclusively. She doesn’t know the couples, doesn’t follow their lives afterwards to know if it worked of if they got divorced the week after, but there’s just something when she’s decorating a room for a wedding, when she knows that the day will be important, even if briefly, even if only then, that the people in there will be at their happiest for a couple of hours at least, it just severely beats down decorating a room for a company fifteen year anniversary.

“It does.” Trixie sighs. “It really does.”

They spend another half hour looking over Katya’s pictures, Trixie’s intent on analyzing every single one carefully resulting in several minutes spent in every set of new photos that Katya displays. Trixie can’t help it, really, she’s beyond amazed with Katya’s talent. And she doesn’t seem bothered, on contrary, seems flattered and even a bit embarrassed at Trixie’s clear awe when looking at the pictures. She keeps pointing out details, describing what feelings she gets from each, and every time Katya seems a bit surprised at how well Trixie reads what she meant to show. Trixie’s proud of herself, if she’s honest.

“We make a great pair,” Katya mentions lightly at yet another one of Trixie’s observations, this time on the last set of photos she has to show, and Trixie feels the corners of her lips tugging into a grin before she can even process it. The words sound nice.

“I’m not saying we don’t, but your pictures are so clear. You’re really talented, anyone would get what your goals are.”

Katya shakes her head, but doesn’t let her smile disappear completely. She looks so pleased and Trixie’s a little pleased with her own self for it. “You’d be surprised.”

Trixie can’t picture anyone looking at what she just looked and not being completely awestruck. Katya’s talent is clear in every colors she uses and to think that people might not see that is mindblowing. “Some people are really dumb.”

“Ugh, stop with the complimenting already, it’s gross!” Katya swats Trixie’s hands away as she jokes, her eyes shining as she gathers her things to put them back in her bag. Trixie laughs at the cute grump face she makes and moves to get her own pictures. Katya seems absurdly interested. “Yes, show me your talents now.”

“Before you see anything you should know that I have unfortunately never had a photographer that could capture my ideas as I wanted them to be captured so don’t judge me too hard.”

Trixie isn’t usually shy about her work - she’s a good decorator and she knows it - but now that it’s her time to share her work her brain is haunting her with everything Katya just showed her - beautiful, amazing works of art -, and it’s hard not to feel overwhelmed.

Katya merely looks at her like she’s grown an extra head. “Uh, I’m a photographer? I’ll be able to tell that the photographer did a bad job, don’t worry.”

Trixie’s heart swells with her plain confidence that whatever she sees will be the photographer’s fault, and Trixie hopes briefly that she’s right, that none of the photos she brought - although chosen very carefully to share her talent - have any of her mediocre decorations, where the time was too little, or the theme too strict, or the couple too unhelping.

Trixie starts with her outdoor wedding photos, knows it’s a bit irrelevant given Shea and Sasha actually have a closed hall, but she loves them and their simplicity and the fact that her decorations have to match the existing nature; and she really wants Katya to see what she’s capable of - what she knows she’s capable of. After what she’s seen of Katya’s work, she wants her to think she’s a worthy partner. She knows she is, she just needs to prove it.

Katya grabs the first one off the table and puts it weirdly close to her face, her eyes squinting and roaming through the entirety of the picture, searching. Trixie is oddly uncomfortable, loves the wedding she’s currently scrutinizing and really hopes she doesn’t hate it because if she does, Trixie doesn’t think she’ll have anything else better to save herself.

“That was such a poor choice of lightning for this photo. They totally missed how a color gradient could have formed with the flowers and the sunset in the back.”

Katya moves to show her, places her finger on the middle of the frame where the intersection between the flowers and the sky is, but Trixie doesn’t look, she doesn’t have to. She had placed those flowers there strategically, had known that the sun setting in the back would create the perfect colors to follow the line of the flowers if taken from the right angle from the ground at the beginning of the carpet. She’d told the photographer that, several times, up until the point he had outright told her he went to school for this and she didn’t. He never did take the picture she wanted, never immortalized the image she envisioned, and the crappy photo she took on her personal phone is the only proof she has of that.

Now Katya’s pointing that out, after maybe staring at the picture for thirty seconds, and she seems sad at the missed opportunity. Trixie’s heart aches for a moment, because that’s a particular event she’s never really forgotten, was never able to replicate again, and she’s part sad by the confirmation that what she wanted was indeed possible, but mostly happy because Katya gets it. She wasn’t there, she didn’t see it, but she gets it.

“Trixie?” Katya asks with arched eyebrows and Trixie notices she’s been staring at her the whole time, mouth probably agape.

“Sorry, I just- hold on.” She takes her phone out of her pocket and frantically looks for the picture she took that day. She had an older phone, then, but she’s saved it through all the months and always has it in her gallery. “Bare in mind that I am not a photographer and this was taken with an old iPhone, ok?”

Katya nods even though she seems lost, and takes Trixie’s phone.

“Oh!” Katya stares at the phone for several long seconds, and then the right side of her lips tugs into a cute side smile, content. Trixie’s heart soars. “Yeah, that’s exactly what I mean. That was wicked smart, Trixie.”

Trixie can feel herself blushing, readjusts a bit on her chair as she feels warmth spreading all over her face and chest in pride. She never realized how much she wanted to be recognized for that feature that’d been gone unnoticed. “Thanks. I’ll never forgive the photographer for not capturing it.”

Katya nods in agreement, eyes still on the crappy picture on her phone. “It truly is a shame. Maybe next time you do something like this you can invite me to take pictures?”

“Yes!” Trixie finds herself nodding before Katya has even finished speaking, her reply perhaps more enthusiastic than necessary. “I think you’re right, we make a great pair.”

Katya finally gives her back the phone, stares at her again like her entire focus and attention are on Trixie and she can practically feel the weight of it. “We do.”

“Ok, so that’s basically it, right?” Katya asks staring up and down the page on her notepad where she and Trixie made a list of everything they have to do for the wedding - well, everything they think they have to do. They looked at several websites and discussed each item to see its real relevance and added a few of their own - are there oddly specific photography and decoration items? Yes - and currently they have an entire written page consisting of no less than seventy-four items.

“Basically,” Trixie snorts. “Yeah, I guess that’s basically it.”

Katya smiles and gives a little laugh, puts down the notebook with a sigh as she leans back on her chair and stretches. Trixie can see a tiny part of her stomach, then, and it’s lighter than her arms but tanner than her face and it’s fully toned. She averts her gaze when Katya speaks again, “So where do we start?”

“By moving to Mexico and pretending we never agreed to any of this?”

Katya’s laugh is loud this time and it fills the entire room and it is undeniably adorable. Trixie can’t help but smile in return. “Good plan,” Katya replies when she manages to stop, leans on the table still completely focused on Trixie. She hasn’t stopped smiling yet. Trixie wouldn’t ever stop smiling if she had her teeth, she thinks.

“I don’t know, there are definitely lots of things to do and we don’t even know the date they’ll get yet. Which, of course, is number one on the list. We don’t have a lot to work on right now.”

“Let’s discuss the couple then, maybe we’ll get some ideas. Tell me about you and Shea, how long have you known each other?”

Trixie feels her smile dropping for a second before she puts it right back on. She loves Shea, she’s been her best friend for years, but she doesn’t like discussing their friendship, especially with someone she just met, no matter how fast and easily they hit it off, even if they’re someone who knows and loves Shea as well.

“I met Shea back when we both still lived in Chicago. When I decided to move there from Milwaukee my friend Kim told me she had a spare room that she and her roommate needed to rent, so there I went. Her roommate was Shea and we became friends very fast. The three of us were inseparable.”

Katya raises her eyebrows, seems weary. “What happened to the third friend?”

“Oh, she’s fine. She still lives in Chicago so we don’t see each other all that much. But we talk everyday, I’m sure she’ll be the maid of honor.”

Trixie stops talking then, feels like she’s given pretty much all of the important details - what else could she say? Katya is still looking at her like she expects more though, and there’s a few uncomfortable silent seconds where neither says anything and both look uncertain.

But Katya recovers quickly, clears her throat and takes it upon herself to share. “So, I’m Russian.”

“Oh?” Trixie isn’t sure where she’s going with this, but she’s glad for the change of subject.

“Yeah. I mean, technically. I was born there but my parents moved to Boston soon after that. But anyway, I met Sasha in Russian 101 in college.”

“Why would you take Russian? Why would Sasha take Russian?”

“She didn’t, she was the TA. I did because I figured it would be an easy A. It was, but that’s neither here nor there.” She makes a dismissive motion with her hand and Trixie laughs at her sly grin.

“You cheated, you mean.”

“They never said a fluent person couldn’t take the entire language curriculum. French and Russian awarded me with an honors degree, thank you very much.”

“Cheating,” Trixie insists.

“Loophole,” Katya replies, a giggly sound marking her sentence. Trixie giggles with her. “But, anyway, we’ve been friends ever since.”

“Was she stupid smart at school, too?” Trixie asks, has always wondered what Sasha was like in college. If she was anything like she pictures, effortlessly good at everything and often praised, Trixie thinks she would have been impossibly jealous had they studied together.

“I don’t think Sasha knows how to be anything other than stupid smart, honestly.”

Trixie chuckles, nods for lack of what to do. “Yeah, I figured.”

There are a few seconds of silence in which they each finish their now cold beverages and Katya takes the opportunity to change her expression to completely serious for the first time.

“Do you… hm, do you like Sasha? Like as a partner for your best friend?”

Trixie feels her jaw dropping instantly, sits up straighter at the shock of the words - or rather her tone. She sounds convinced the answer is actually no. Granted, Trixie has several unresolved personal issues that may or may not have a side effect on how she thinks of Sasha sometimes, but at the end of the day Sasha has been a constant presence in her life for the past three years and she’s been a really good friend and a perfect match for Shea. Trixie genuinely loves her and she really hopes that she doesn’t give off the wrong vibe.

“Oh my god, yes! I adore her. Did she say something? Does she think I don’t?”

“No, no, no! Sorry, Sasha likes you a lot. You just made a face, just now. I thought… I misinterpreted, sorry.”

“Oh.” Trixie doesn’t know how to explain it. She can’t find the proper words when she herself isn’t sure yet of why she sometimes feels the way she does. So she takes the easy road. “Single’s jealousy, I guess.”

“A wedding decorator who wants to get married? Groundbreaking.”

Trixie scream laughs again, swats Katya’s arm lightly. “Shut up!”

“So, is she mad as a hatter or what?”

Trixie and Shea are seated as comfortably as it’s possible on Shea’s ridiculously old couch, the one she’s been saying for over a year she was going to replace and now she won’t because she and Sasha will buy a new one when they move in together after the wedding. They each have a box of chinese food and they are halfway through them when Shea asks about her meeting with Katya.

“She most definitely is. We actually hit it off pretty well.”

“You did?” She raises her eyebrows, seems surprised at that.

“Yeah? Why? I wouldn’t peg her as someone difficult.”

“Oh, she isn’t. I’m surprised by you.”

Trixie kicks her on the shin as she scream laughs. “You bitch!”

Shea laughs out loud, throws her head back for good measure, and Trixie cuckles to herself. She wonders briefly how it’ll be between them once Shea gets married. She wonders if the next however many months they’ll have before the wedding will be like a countdown of last moments like this. The thought leaves a lump on her throat and she tries really hard to force it down with her wine.

“I’m kidding, I’m glad you hit it off. She’s a good friend to have, she’s the most selfless person you’ll ever meet and I’m marrying Sasha.”

“Wow. Is it a Russian thing? It doesn’t sound Russian. She’s as selfless as a Russian. Nah.”

Shea smiles mischievously and places her empty container on the table, picks up her glass of wine. “Wow, you already know she’s Russian? It took me three months.”

Trixie rolls her eyes, is not surprised at all by Shea’s comment and has no doubt about where she’s going: there’s nothing Shea likes more than trying to set Trixie up. Anyone, anytime, anywhere.

“We were discussing how we met you guys. Because we’re planning your wedding. We’re business partners.”

“Sounds kinky.”

Trixie gets up then, fake exasperation. “Oh my god.”

“Sorry, sorry, I’m joking!” Shea laughs and moves to grab Trixie’s arm, pulls her back to sit on the couch. “She’s a catch though, if you’re interested. And she’s gay.”

“Much better than last time when you tried to set me up with your straight coworker, I’ll give you that.”

“She’s not straight, she’s pressured by society’s heteronormativity and she’ll realize that soon enough, give it a year!”

Trixie rolls her eyes. “You’re impossible.”

“Ok,ok!” She surrenders with a motion of her arms, light smile on her lips. “Tell me about my wedding then. Did you plan it all already? Can we do it this Saturday?”

“Yep, in fact we have already reserved the dumpster down the street.”

“Oh, that sounds lovely. How-” Shea stops talking when her phone lights up on the coffee table, Sasha’s name and photo on the screen. “Uh, sorry.”

Trixie dismisses her. “Go ahead.”

Shea gets up to answer the phone on the other room and Trixie takes these few minutes to breathe. She finishes her wine, makes the last sip turn to three as she stares at the apartment that Shea’s lived in since she moved to California a few months after Trixie. It’s familiar to her, like in sitcoms where it’s always the apartment of one of the friends that becomes the point. Kim always stays there when she’s visiting and so does Trannika even if she visits less. Pearl is there constantly and she always has Violet with her and no one is sure why they go to Shea’s place when it’s the furthest and not the biggest, but it’s their thing now, she guesses.

She doesn’t want to be that friend, the best friend in the Bridesmaids movie that gets jealous and bitter and ruins everything because she can’t get a hold of her emotions, but it’s hard when it feels like the last solid thing she’s managed to maintain is going to fall apart. Shea’s friendship is the one thing she managed to keep after all the turmoils in her life - leaving her family in Wisconsin, leaving her friends in Chicago, leaving a string of relationships that she wasn’t able to save everywhere she went. All her friends are married or in a relationship or some even happily single and Trixie still struggles with the ghosts of all her past girlfriends haunting her. She’s not old but she is getting older, and she hates the feeling that she’s stuck while everyone else passes her by. While life passes her by.

She gets up from the couch and grabs all the boxes and dishes to clean the place a little bit, tries to ground herself to the reality of the now and to convince herself that she’s overreacting and things will be fine. Kim lives almost on the other side of the country and their friendship is still one of the strongest bonds Trixie has. She’ll be fine with Shea having a wife. A wife that Trixie knows and likes and is friends with.

Shea is happy and that’s all that matters. It is.

“So Katya thinks you’re ‘one of the most talented people I’ve ever met’, quote, and seems very infatuated by you, says Sasha.” Shea says when she enters the kitchen and finds Trixie pouring herself some more wine, leaving just enough on the bottle for Shea to get half a glass.

“Sasha did not say that.”

“Ok, that’s my interpretation of what Sasha said.”

Trixie rolls her eyes. “You can’t expect me to date every single person you’ve ever met, Shea.”

“I wouldn’t keep trying if you dated one! You’ve been single for like five hundred years, Trixie, you gotta get out there!”

“It’s been like less than a year.”

“Potato, potahto. But anyway, she seemed really impressed with your work, Sasha says she’s looking forward to working with you.”

There’s still some sort of innuendo in Shea’s voice, but Trixie ignores it in lieu of the compliment, smiles despite herself. She can’t help the giddy feeling in her chest at the praise. She loves what she does and she loved Katya’s work and she doesn’t necessarily need validation but she loves that she got it, especially from her. “Me too! Her photos were mindblowing, she’s amazing. Your wedding’s gonna be, like, the best wedding ever made.”

Shea smiles back, seems happy at the prospect, but then she sighs a little. “I know that you’ll be the best decorator in the seven realms and that my wedding is gonna be the most beautiful in all of the lands, but I’m still sad you won’t be my maid of honor.”

Trixie sips on her wine at that, tries to find the right words to reply.

She’s sad too. But it’s better this way.

“You’ll forget about that as soon as you see how magnificent the hall will look.”

“I can’t wait. We’ve decided on a date, by the way. It’ll be in six months.”

“Oh.” Trixie’s not sure how to respond. Six months isn’t that close but she kind of thought they might wait for another year or so. “Already?”

“I know it’s a bit tight for the planning, but you know we don’t want anything too big, right? We’ll make it work, don’t worry.”

Trixie nods, smiles a bit as she pours a tiny bit more wine. The planning. Right. That’s why she’s surprised, because the closer it is the less time she has to plan.

“Of course we will, I’m amazing at what I do.”

“You are a conceited little country gal, that’s what you are.”

Trixie shrugs and grins into her glass. Her insecurities be damned, she’ll focus on the now. “Maybe.”

#trixya #pichitinha #searching waiting looking #lesbian au #romance #trixie mattel #katya zamolodchikova #rpdr fanfiction #background sashea #shea x trixie

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