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caramarafics · 2 years
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ATTENTION!!!
Do not be alarmed if you see the first chapter of Heart of Glass as well as everything associated with Heart of Glass suddenly disappear from here and my main page.
They will be back!!
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caramarafics · 2 years
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Reckless (Seth Rollins)
Seth Rollins x OC Maya Grey One Shot 
Warnings: just sad.
A/N: Soooo…. this has been in my drafts for awhile now and after some positive motivation from @royallyprincesslilly​ @thedeboniardevistation​ and @bigstrongblackheart​ I’ve just decided to post it. 
Hope you like it. 
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AUGUST 23, 2015 11:27 PM
MANHATTAN, NY
DING!
The elevator comes to a halt upon the arrival of yet another floor. A robotic, yet feminine voice came over the speaker to announce:
“You have arrived at the twenty-third floor.”
The metal doors slowly open to reveal a black and gray hallway with artwork of abstract watercolor paintings hanging on the walls. Standing towards the back of the car, leaning against the safety bar, I watch as my aunt Isobel steps off the elevator. Placing one hand in front of the elevator door so it wouldn’t close she scans the hallway, looking left and then to the right, all to make sure that there was no one around.
After a few minutes, she finally turned her gaze back into the elevator towards me. A small, loving smile softly forms and she extends a hand.
“Come on cariña,” she whispers.
I nod my head and, with a heavy sigh and a push off the safety bar, I throw the thick strap of my Diva’s Championship over one shoulder and my gym over the other. I step off the elevator and into the waiting arms of my aunt and we begin our walk down the hall. 
Isobel puts one hand on the swell of my back while the other pulls her suitcase. My gaze fell to the floor as we walked, focusing on the hotel’s unusual carpet pattern while she scanned the placards on the wall looking for our room. Every so often I could feel her eyes practically burning a hole into me before quickly turning away to look back up at the placards. 
She was worried. She had every right to be. Since leaving the Barclay Center over an hour ago I had barely said a single word. Not to her, to Roman, no one. I was catatonic and numb. 
But who could blame me? After what just happened, anyone would react the exact same way if they were in my shoes.
Keep reading
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caramarafics · 2 years
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Random Thought of the Day:
You know what would be fantastic but also terrifying because I would be afraid they would fuck it up??
If they remade the 1999 The Mummy franchise... but as a TV series.
Like a ten episode series about a young aspiring Egyptologist, working as an intern for some kind of museum in either England or in Egypt, when the museum receives several artifacts including a very strange black book and a sarcophagus from the once believed fictional city of Hamunaptra.
(you kinda see where I am going with this right??)
Anyway, word of the discovery gets out and while studying the artifacts at night, the museum is broken into by thieves and our main lead is attacked by whoever has broken in for information on the artifacts, specifically just where sarcophagus and the black book are. But before they can get any information from her, she is rescued by a man cloaked in all black.
The thieves are able to escape with the sarcophagus but the black book is safe with our lead as the lead and the man in black drive away from the museum. On the way the man reveals himself to be Ardeth Bay, formerly a member of descendants of the Pharaoh's bodyguards known as the Medjai and guardians of Hamunaptra. He explains to her that the thieves who got away with the sarcophagus are a group of religious extremists who seek to free the creature within the tomb and bring forth the end of the world, blah blah blah you get the picture.
We spend the next two to three episodes watching the lead, Ardeth, and either the lead's colleague or friend try and track down the religious group to try and steal back the tomb and in the breath save the world, but by the end of either the third or fourth episode they accidentally help in not only opening the tomb but in reanimating the creature from the dead, Imhotep.
They quickly begin to realize that they are insanely outnumbered and Ardeth tells them that they now require someone who has firsthand knowledge of what exactly is going on and most importantly, knows how to destroy Imhotep before he returns to Hamunaptra and regains his full power. We close that episode with them driving up to this huge mansion in the middle of a rainy and stormy night, the main lead knocking on the door, AND WHO THE HELL ANSWERS THE DOOR?!?!?
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None other than Rick O' Connell himself!!!!
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caramarafics · 2 years
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🤑🤑🤑🤑🤑
Guess who gets to buy that REALLY EXPENSIVE KitchenAid stand mixer now WITH AS MANY ACCESSORIES as I want????
All due to selling fucking hot chocolate bombs?!?!?!
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And a bitch still ain't done. She got more orders coming...
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caramarafics · 2 years
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Heart of Glass - Fanfiction Pack
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Please like and reblog if you use or save.
Requested by @caramara3 - hope you like them, message me if you'd like any adjustments made.
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caramarafics · 2 years
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Update for Heart of Glass...
OK SOOOO..... i owe you guys an apology. I had every intention of posting the next chapter (hell the next two chapters) within the time frame I had originally said, about three weeks ago. But then life decided to come on in and say "HA! YOU WISH."
For those of you who do not know, I own a private home bakery that has been slowly but surely taking off, and my busiest time is always around the holiday season i.e. Thanksgiving and Christmas. Now I knew I would have maybe a few orders for Thanksgiving, nothing too crazy. Never once did I assume that I would get overwhelmed with how many dessert orders I would get (over 75 total!!) that I wouldn't have a chance to stop and eat something, have a lil pee break, let alone even open up my google docs for a second!
Your girl has been so booked and busy, just ask the bestie @royallyprincesslilly.
And Christmastime is going be no better, currently sitting at 45 orders for Christmas goodies. But I want you to know that I have not given up on the story or forgotten about it in anyway shape or form. It is still happening, it is still in formation... we are still live and in color for Heart of Glass.
Just please be patient with me as I try to balance that, my 9 to 5, and fitting in time to write. I promise you won't regret it. Thank you so much.
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caramarafics · 2 years
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OK SOOOO.....
i owe you guys an apology. When I answered this I had every intention of posting the next chapter (hell the next two chapters) within the time frame I had said.
For those of you who do not know, I own a private home bakery that has been slowly but surely taking off, and my busiest time is always around the holiday season i.e. Thanksgiving and Christmas. Now I knew I would have maybe a few orders for Thanksgiving, nothing too crazy. Never once did I assume that I would get overwhelmed with how many dessert orders I would get (over 75 total!!) that I wouldn't have a chance to stop and eat something, have a lil pee break, let alone even open up my google docs for a second!
Your girl has been so booked and busy, just ask the bestie @royallyprincesslilly.
And Christmastime is gonna be no better, currently sitting at 45 orders for Christmas goodies. But I want you to know that I have not given up on the story or forgotten about it in anyway shape or form. It is still happening, it is still in formation... we are still live and in color for Heart of Glass.
Just please be patient with me as I try to balance that, my 9 to 5, and fitting in time to write. I promise you won't regret it.
NEXT PART OF HEART OF GLASS WHEN!? (respectfully)
lol i love the respectfully!!!
Hopefully within the next three weeks or so. I've been so busy with work and some personal issues that I haven't even had a chance to even open my doc!
But don't worry, it will be coming soon. I won't leave ya'll hanging like that!!
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caramarafics · 2 years
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I am a WHORE for “the love is requited, they’re both just idiots”
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caramarafics · 2 years
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NEXT PART OF HEART OF GLASS WHEN!? (respectfully)
lol i love the respectfully!!!
Hopefully within the next three weeks or so. I've been so busy with work and some personal issues that I haven't even had a chance to even open my doc!
But don't worry, it will be coming soon. I won't leave ya'll hanging like that!!
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caramarafics · 3 years
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the man pulled that suit OFF!!!
Me: How many pictures and gifs of Chris in that velvet suit do you really need???
Also me:
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caramarafics · 3 years
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BIG E is our new WWE Champion.
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We're partying bitches!!
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caramarafics · 3 years
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AWWWW BOO THANK YOU!!!! I'm so glad that you liked it!! I'm working on chapter 2 right now and gurl... I hope you ready!! 👀👀👀👀
Heart of Glass {1}
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~Chris Evans x OFC Devyn Thorne multi-chapter series~
Series Warnings: plot, slow burn, angst, fluff, eventual smut, sexual tension, mature content (18+ ONLY!!), friends to lovers, possible triggers (talks of past assault and abuse), time jumps (takes place between 2010, 2013-present)
****COVID DOES NOT HAPPEN IN THIS TIMELINE****
Summary: In the simplest explanation? Two idiots become friends and fall in love with each other over time. But they'll mess it up, obviously, cause they're idiots.
Words: 4.3k
A/N: Well hello there beautiful people!! Words cannot even describe just how excited I am to not only FINALLY be writing again, but writing my first ever Chris Evans fic!! So... originally this was a fic I had done almost five years ago that I had originally posted to Wattpad called Actress and the Athlete. But after awhile I lost interest in the story, as well as confidence in myself as a writer. But that was then, and this is now. I hope hope HOPE that you guys will enjoy this and PLEASE don’t be afraid to like, comment, and reblog once we begin this journey together.
But that was then, and this is now. I hope hope HOPE that you guys enjoy this and PLEASE don’t be afraid to like, comment, and reblog as we go on this journey together.
If you wish to be tagged in future chapters let me know!
Playlist for this chapter can be found here.
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~Las Vegas, Summer 2010~
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“Alright ladies, it is now 8:15!”
Rhiannon’s voice echoes as she walks down the halls of your hotel suite.
“Grab your room keys, purses, phones… tape down your wigs, tits, and lady bits! I wanna be out that door and in the cab in exactly 30 minutes.”
You shake your head and roll your eyes at your childhood friend. Her voice was loud as hell, always has been ever since you were kids. You would always joke how her voice was enough to wake the dead with ease. Even from the other side of this massive suite, even as the sounds of Michael, Tupac, Biggie, Janet, Prince, & Mike Jones on full blast through the in-wall sound system, you could still hear her clear as day! Nothing was a match for those powerful pipes.
“Almost ready,” you hear Aaliyah call out from one of the bathrooms. “Just gotta finish putting on my lashes.”
“Still?!?! Lee, you’ve been messing with those damn lashes for the past 30 minutes now. I’m ready, Devyn’s ready, Jules is ready… you’re the only one we’re waiting on! What are you doing, putting them on hair by hair or something?”
Aaliyah smirks, answering in sing-song. “You can’t rush perfection Rhiannon.”
“The hell I can’t Aaliyah!”
At the other end of the suite, towards the fully stocked bar, you hear your best friend Juliette (aka Jules) vibing and singing along to Janet Jackson’s Miss You Much. You look over to find her behind the bar placing several shot glasses atop and filling them with a clear liquor. Her piercing baby blue eyes find yours near the floor-to-ceiling windows, lounging in an oversized hanging chair.
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The both of you share a look of amusement before she picks up a shot and motions as if to ask if you would like one. You smile and mouth the word no and, with a smile and a shrug, downs the drink.
You chuckle softly at her and move from the hanging chair, making your way across the suite and towards the balcony as the bickering between Rhia and Lee continues.
“Well excuse me but not everyone is fortunate to be blessed by the lash fairies at birth. Some of us have to compensate for what we don’t have!”
Rhia groans, rolling her eyes. “Oh dios mio me estas matando! This is our last night here and I’ve been looking forward to eating at this place all week! And don’t you think for one second that I won’t leave your ass here, cause you know I will! I left your ass at the hotel in Miami, I left you in Cabo, I will leave you here. I love you Lee, you know I do, but I refuse to lose our reservation due to your shitty time management skills. Fifteen minutes!”
“Wait, what? That’s not fair! How’d it go from thirty minutes to fifteen now?!?” you could hear Lee shriek out.
To anyone on the outside looking in, one would assume Rhia and Lee to be bittersweet of enemies.
Joan and Bette.
Alexis and Dominique of Dynasty.
Tyra and Naomi.
However, after nearly 15 plus years of friendship, this was nothing new to you nor your small circle. In fact, this had become a common occurrence between them ever since your days of playing in the sandbox. They’d bicker back and forth, but at the end of the day they’d go back to loving one another. They were each other’s person, their lobster, that one person you would willingly end the world for if it meant their survival.
You open the glass sliding door that led out to the suite’s private balcony and step outside, shutting the door behind you. The suite itself was extravagant, but what really put it over the edge for you was this balcony. Completely level with the Las Vegas skyline, it came complete with heated tile floors, a glass & stone fire pit, two gorgeously decorated seating areas that surrounded a glass bottom 4-foot deep infinity edge pool. Making your way to one of the couches closest to the pool you take a seat on the couch, sinking comfortably into the featherdown cushions as you look out at the city.
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Shades of purple, red, orange, and pink stretched across the sky as the sun began its descent and a crescent moon took its place. At the same time, all the streetlights and neon lights throughout the infamous city began to awake from their slumber. One after another in near synchronization, ready and eager to welcome the night and the patrons that were soon to follow.
It was a beautiful night, a perfect way to end a perfect week and a near perfect girls trip.
You were dressed to the nines for this final night in Vegas, courtesy to Lee and her constant need to overpack. Originally you had chosen just a simple black cocktail dress you’ve had in your closet since high school and heels, nothing too flashy or over the top but modest and chic. Unfortunately for you, that was unanimously vetoed by the girls and the next thing you know you were being given the Princess Diaries treatment by your friends.
You were skeptical at first; the idea of wearing something of Lee’s that you knew for a fact cost just as much as your rent, if not more, and then accidentally spilling something on it or messing it up terrified you. But here you were hours laters after much convincing, and by convincing you meant being told this what was going to happen, in by far the most expensive outfit you would ever wear. Your hair was flawless, your eye makeup was snatched paired with a sultry nude lip, your body shimmered and shined, smelling of black orchid and vanilla. If you believed the words of your best friends you looked sexy. Sexy enough to bring any man, or woman, to their knees and at your every beckon call.
A sudden gust of cold air blew against your body that made you shiver, sparking goosebumps along your bare shoulders and open stomach. It felt nice, a small shift from the near triple digit heat you had endured the past week. It was a dry heat yes, but heat is still heat. Small price to pay for planning a girls trip right at the beginning of summer in the literal desert. Thankfully being born and raised in Houston, Texas all your life had made you more than used to this kind of weather.
Sinking further into the couch, you close your eyes and allow yourself to get swept away by the sounds of the city. You take a deep breath and slowly release it.
Vegas.
Of all the places in the world to choose from, all the places in the world, it had to be Vegas.
Not a beachfront resort on an island with white sandy beaches, crystal blue waters, fruity cocktails in actual fruit, and half-naked men willing and eager to “show you the island.” Not somewhere in the valleys of Wine Country surrounded by barrels and barrels of wine & high-end spa treatments, nor an overseas adventure in a country dripping in untouched beauty and historical, cultural significance where you could live out your 2000s Lizzie McGuire fantasy.
But rather, Las Vegas. The cultural mecca for showgirls, dirty deeds done dirt cheap, and raunchy tourists. Where the only cultural or historical significance was that a fat man with bad hair in a tacky sparkly jumpsuit wrote a half-decent song about it. Thank God you were with good company though or else this trip would have been a complete disaster.
For the most part it had been nothing short of memorable. Between riding ATV’s in Red Rock, a helicopter tour of the Grand Canyon, ziplining down the Strip, seeing a Cirque du Soleil show, the numerous nightclubs and bars, countless tourist spots, spa treatments, and shopping… every single moment was one to remember.
The only thing truly missing was your twin sister Corrie, currently somewhere in Europe living out her dream as a backup dancer for Lady Gaga. But before that, she had been gone for nearly ten months on the I Am… World Tour with Beyonce.
Yea, you read that right. Beyonce.
As in Crazy in Love, a diva is a female version of a hustler, Ms. Sasha Fierce herself, Beyonce!
She’s been a dancer for Beyonce since back in 2007 after nailing an open audition to be a part of her “Get Me Bodied” music video. She went on to perform with her at that year's BET Awards, then being selected to be one of two featured dancers in her now infamous “Single Ladies” music video. She’s been dancing for her ever since.
After the I Am tour ended she had a small two month break, but it came and went so fast that before you knew it you were with her boyfriend Theo driving her to the airport.
God you missed her. You thought about calling her but she was probably asleep or on a plane heading to the next city on the tour. Things just weren’t the same without her, seeing as this was the first girls trip you were all able to take without work or conflicting schedules getting in the way. It was also one meant to acknowledge and celebrate all the accomplishments made since graduating high school and leaving Houston to live out your dreams.
And everyone had something to celebrate. Rhia was about to start a summer internship for a major production company in Manhattan that designed costumes and sets for Broadway. Lee had two milestones to celebrate: landing her first big modeling contract for Wilhelmina Models as well as her first gig in Milan’s Fashion Week! Jules, the resident overachiever, had graduated Summa Cum Laude nearly a year early from Oxford with dual degrees in Archaeology & Zoology as well as her masters in Anthropology!
What about you? What special achievement were you celebrating?
A promotion? New apartment?
Landing that big role you’ve been dying for?
A new love perhaps?
Grabbing your phone off the glass table in front of you, you open up your text messages, rereading a conversation from earlier in the day between you and your manager Yvette.
[Text 1] [Text 2] [Text 3] [Text 4] [Text 5] [Text 6]
So let’s rephrase: almost everyone had something to celebrate.
You read the conversation two more times, each time feeling the disappointment and indecisiveness of your uncertain future overwhelm you, before setting your phone back onto the table. Ultimately you knew that Yvette was right, that you shouldn’t give up so easily. But after so many no’s, after so many doors being slammed in your face, it was starting to become more and more difficult to believe in something you had dreamed about since you were five years old. You and Corrie were home sick and your mother, an avid musical fan, put on one of her favorites for you to watch, The Wiz. Even at such a young age you remember being instantly captivated by all the sounds and gorgeous imagery, the pure shock on your face when your mom told you that Michael Jackson was the scarecrow, the excitement when they defeated Evilene, and the tears you cried listening to Diana Ross as she sang both “Can I Go On?” and “Home.”
After that it became a love that you both shared. Every other Saturday night, she would drive the both of you into town to this old movie theater that showed nothing but classic movies and old school musicals. Tucked under her arm, your eyes would light up watching films ranging from Bye, Bye Birdie and Grease to Fame and Little Shop of Horrors. From Hello Dolly!, Calamity Jane and The Music Man, to Cabaret, Sparkle, and The Rocky Horror Picture Show.
Then at nine, you got your first taste of an actual Broadway show during a family trip to New York City. Your mom had been saving every single penny she made that year so that you and her could see the revival of The Wiz and from the moment the curtains opened to that final bow you were completely enthralled. This was everything you had imagined and so much more. The sets, the costumes, the score… the sheer pageantry of it all. You even got to go backstage and meet some of the cast!
On that cab ride back to the hotel, you let your mom and dad know that this was what you wanted to do for the rest of your life.
“When I grow up, I’m gonna do this,” you had declared. “I’m gonna move to New York, I’m gonna sing and dance and perform on a stage like that. I’m gonna have people come from everywhere just to watch me and cheer my name. I’m going to be on Broadway.”
You listened to several family members along with various other “concerned individuals” voice their opinions. You sat through the multiple lectures and frivolous attempts to persuade you into a different path.
Become a music teacher, they would say.
A doctor.
Lawyer.
Hell, even a bartender! Just something that was viewed as safe, sustainable, and stable.
You knew how hard it would be to make it onto a Broadway stage. You knew how competitive it was going to be, just how many other girls like you wanted the exact same dream, all about the insane odds of actually having a legitimate and fulfilling career in theater. Hell, the statistics of a woman, especially for women of color, landing a leading role in a production were downright pitiful!
But you didn’t care. This was your dream you’d be damned if you didn’t at least try to make it into a reality.
Fast forward thirteen years and here you are: 22, a struggling theater major at both NYU & NYFA, busting your ass working three jobs that don’t pay nearly enough, living in a tiny studio apartment in Brooklyn that you could barely afford, auditioning for everything and anything that came your way, but still nowhere near as close to a Broadway debut that you were when you were nine.
You picked up bit parts here and there; ensemble, swing, gossipy neighbor #4, but nothing was ever really concrete. You started taking a few acting gigs working as an extra in several tv shows that were being filmed within the city. It wasn’t until this past October when you were cast as Janet in an Off-Broadway Halloween production of The Rocky Horror Picture Show that you had gotten a small high and had begun to for a brief and shiny moment, felt as if things were finally looking up. But due to the show being seasonal, that high was gone just as quickly as it had come when the show came to close mid-November.
Which meant you were once again back at square one, with no back-up plan whatsoever.
The girls didn’t know about Memphis, nor about the others. They only knew what you were telling them, that you had multiple options lined up and were just waiting to make a decision. Yes it was a lie, and a pretty bad one at that. You didn’t want to dampen the mood of the trip, especially with all the wonderful things they had all recently achieved. No need for them to feel pity for you, no more than you already felt as is.
You close your eyes and drop your head back against the head of the couch, releasing the breath you hadn’t realized you had been holding. You stare up at the night sky, feeling the tears begin to form to which you quickly wiped away, careful as to not smudge your makeup.
“Ugh, fuck, not here. Stop it Devyn. Pull yourself together.”
But you didn’t pull yourself together nor did the tears stop. Your brain replayed the events of the last two years with the emphasis on every moment you viewed as a failure. The more you thought about your failure, the uncertainty of your future, the more the tears formed ready to spring from your eyes. You thought about letting your family down. You thought about letting your friends down. You thought about how you should have just listened to everybody else and opted for a more realistic, simple career rather than this.
You despised feeling like this, focusing on the negatives. You knew that it would get you absolutely nowhere so you would force yourself to think positive, keep your emotions in check, and push down all those insecurities as far as you possibly could and push forward. But right now that was not the case. The weight of everything had begun to crash and burn all around you, and you didn’t know if you could handle it.
“Stop, stop, stop… ugh goddamn it.” you scold yourself, as you continue to wipe away the tears.
You were so wrapped up in your own downward spiral, you never heard the balcony door slide open. Nor did you hear the click-clacking of heels making their way towards you, or feel the weight of the couch suddenly shift. It wasn’t until you felt a slender, pink manicured hand place itself on your knee, nearly startling you to death, that you realized you were no longer alone.
You don’t bother to look. You knew exactly who it was.
“How long have you been sitting there?”
Jules’ voice was soft and filled with compassion. “Not long, a few minutes maybe.”
You let out a defeated sigh, still refusing to look over at her. “Do they know?”
She shakes her head. “No, I told them you’re on the phone with Corrie. Plus Rhi’s busy trying to rush Lee along like a damn drill sergeant.”
That made you chuckle a little before dropping your head into your hands, a soft groan escaping your lips.
Jules says nothing but places four shots down on the table next to your phone, two filled with a honey colored liquor, the other two with what appeared to be water. Then she places a compact and a small makeup bag next to them.
Looking up from your hands, you immediately reach for one of the shots, settling for the one that looked like water. The scent coming from the drink instantly hit your nostrils and caused your whole face to scrunch. This was definitely not water.
Fuck it, you thought.
Without hesitation you quickly downed the glass, trying hard not to gag as it burned going down your throat. It was tequila, cheap tequila at that. Jules’ favorite.
“Ugh!”
Jules lets out a high-pitch laugh as you try not to gag.
“Seriously Jules, how the hell can you drink this crap?”
She shrugs and grabs the other tequila shot and downs it, giving an exaggerated ahh afterwards. “Like that. Anyway, you’re the one who needs to catch up. This is number four for me now.”
“Holy shit Jules four?!?! Have you at least eaten anything yet?”
The shit-eating grin that stretched across her face answered your question.
You let out a snort and roll your eyes at her. “Oh God. You better slow down, I don’t need you falling some damn rose bushes again.”
“Ok first of all, they were hydrangeas. And second, you know good and well that between the five of us I am the last person you need to worry about not being able to hold their liquor.” she teased.
You smirk and the both of you share a laugh. She was right though. In your small circle of friends, Jules had always been the only one who had a high tolerance. The one you most definitely needed to worry about was Lee, aka “Ms. gets plastered off three glasses of Pinot Noir.” The last time you saw Lee really drunk was on her 21st birthday in Cabo. Some guy she had been ‘seeing’ at the time kept buying shot after shot of the most expensive tequila the club had. She ended up dancing atop the bar and both her and Rhia nearly started a fight with another girl all because Lee thought she had stolen her wallet. Her wallet was in her hand the whole time.
You shake your head and grab both the compact and small makeup bag. Jules says nothing as she watches you fix your makeup and hide any evidence of your little pity party. Not once did she ask what was wrong, why you were crying, or anything like that. She just sat next to you, watching you try and fix what she and Lee created before she grabbed the eye pencil from you and took matters into her own hands.
Aside from Corrie, Jules was probably the second you were closest to growing up. Originally from the UK, she had moved to Houston with her godparents Jasmine and Steven when she was 10 after losing her own parents in a tragic car accident. She was so completely closed off at first and had an extremely hard time making friends, often a target for bullies who would make fun of her thick British accent. That is until one day during lunch when those bullies decided to pick on her yet again. They were met with the backside of Rhia’s lunch tray and Corrie’s size 7.5 Doc Martens. And the rest was history, she became a part of the group.
She and you were a lot alike in many ways; you were both introverted and shy, homebodies at heart who often kept to yourselves until you truly got to know them (or after several rounds of tequila). Absolutely nowhere near the social butterflies that Rhiannon, Aaliyah, and your sister were. But the two of you always had the ability to bring each other out of your shells.
Once she finished fixing you up she put everything back in her little bag and rose up from the couch, her arms stretched out in front of you. You quickly stand and walk right into them, embracing her. It takes everything in you not to start crying again as she hugs you, but you manage to keep it in. The two of you stay like this for a few moments before Jules pulls away to look at you. She moves one of her hands to softly caress your cheek, using her thumb to swipe away a forgotten tear.
“Do you wanna talk about it?”
You look up at her and shake your head.
“Ok. But you know you can always come to me about anything, right?”
You nod your head.
“No more how big or how small it is… or if it’s something you might be too embarrassed to talk about?”
“I know, I know.” you sigh. “It’s nothing, just some shit going on with work. You know Merv’s still pissed at me for coming here and is probably gonna have me working doubles for the next week. Nothing I can’t handle though.”
Jules’ face soured at the mention of my boss. She hated him with a fiery passion, often called “Merv the Perv” due to his constant need to ogle every ass within a five foot radius of him.
“But I’m fine, I promise. You don’t need to worry so much.”
“Ha, yea ok sure.” she snorts. “If I don’t worry then who else will?”
“Well let’s see: there’s Corrie, Jude, my dad, my grandparents, that sweet little old lady down the hall from me…”
“Haha, very funny Devyn. But I’m serious.”
“Jules, there is nothing for you to worry about.” you lie. “I promise you. I’m fine.”
Jules always had a knack of seeing through your little façades and you could tell she wasn’t buying anything that you were selling. Before she had the chance to call you out though, the sliding glass door flew open with such force that you swore it came off its hinges. In an instant Rhia’s head popped out into view.
“Hallefuckinlujah!” she shouts. “The princess is finally ready. Grab your shit girls, we’re out the door in three minutes!”
Just as fast as Rhia’s head popped out did it retreat back inside and the balcony door slid shut. You snort and fall into a fit of laughter with Jules following right behind you. The two of you laughed for what felt like forever, so much so that you were both in tears clutching your sides.
Once the laughter died down and a comfortable silence fell around, Jules let out a sigh and bent down to grab the remaining two shots off the table.
“One more for the road?”
You chuckle softly and accept the shot from her. Immediately, a variety of aromas began to dance around your nose. Vanilla, oak, caramel, and butterscotch.
You smile. Bourbon, your favorite.
“And you judge me and my taste, yet you drink that. Honestly Dev, how can you even stomach this crap?”
“Like this.” Mimicking her actions from earlier, you take the shot without any hesitation and letting out an exaggerated ahh similar to hers. Jules’ face sours as she takes back her shot causing you to snicker.
“Ugh, this crap is too damn sweet!”
You kissed your teeth. “Coming from the woman who drinks cheap tequila. At least mine doesn’t burn on the way down.”
“Nah, just leaves you with a few cavities!” she coughs out.
“Whatever.”
“Devyn! Jules! Let’s go, my stomach is louder than a damn grizzly bear!”
You roll her eyes at Rhia’s statement as Jules takes the now empty glass from you and places it on the table. She gives you one last hug before grabbing her makeup bag & compact and heads back inside the suite. Alone once again, you grab your phone and take one last look out at The Strip. You sigh as you gather yourself and your thoughts.
Alright Devyn you had your little moment, you thought to yourself. Put on your big girl panties and push that shit back down where it belongs. Show no signs of distress or weakness. Nothing’s wrong, everything’s fine...
“DEVYN!!”
“I’M COMING!!”
This is going to be a long night…
~~~~~
If you wish to be tagged in future chapters, comment or send me an ask. Like, reblog, and share!!
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Tag List:
@royallyprincesslilly @lovebittenbyevans @chaneajoyyy @gold--gucciempress @thedeboniardevistation @lavitabella87 @patzammit @emjayewrites @momobaby227 @tenaciousperfectionunknown @syren-tara @fvckingavengers @free-2bmee @bakarilennox @night-of-the-living-shred @queenoftheworldisdead
@minton131 @caplover22 @omg-mymelaninisbeautiful @liquorlaughslove @mauvecherie @mauvecherie-writes @islandvamp @honeydulcewrites @talley84 @dramaqueeenamby @6lackfic @bamakakechick
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caramarafics · 3 years
Text
Yay I'm so excited for y'all to read it!! And gurl I know you can write your ass off!!
Heart of Glass {1}
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~Chris Evans x OFC Devyn Thorne multi-chapter series~
Series Warnings: plot, slow burn, angst, fluff, eventual smut, sexual tension, mature content (18+ ONLY!!), friends to lovers, possible triggers (talks of past assault and abuse), time jumps (takes place between 2010, 2013-present)
Summary: In the simplest explanation? Two idiots become friends and fall in love with each other over time. But they’ll mess it up, obviously, cause they’re idiots.
Words: 4.3k
A/N: Well hello there beautiful people!! Words cannot even describe just how excited I am to not only FINALLY be writing again, but writing my first ever Chris Evans fic!! So… originally this was a fic I had done almost five years ago that I had originally posted to Wattpad called Actress and the Athlete. But after awhile I lost interest in the story, as well as confidence in myself as a writer. But that was then, and this is now. I hope hope HOPE that you guys will enjoy this and PLEASE don’t be afraid to like, comment, and reblog once we begin this journey together.
But that was then, and this is now. I hope hope HOPE that you guys enjoy this and PLEASE don’t be afraid to like, comment, and reblog as we go on this journey together.
If you wish to be tagged in future chapters let me know!
Playlist for this chapter can be found here.
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~Las Vegas, Summer 2010~
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“Alright ladies, it is now 8:15!”
Rhiannon’s voice echoes as she walks down the halls of your hotel suite.
“Grab your room keys, purses, phones… tape down your wigs, tits, and lady bits! I wanna be out that door and in the cab in exactly 30 minutes.”
Keep reading
158 notes · View notes
caramarafics · 3 years
Note
Hi may I be included in your taglist for your story Heart of Glass
Hi doll!!
Of course you can!
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0 notes
caramarafics · 3 years
Text
MCU fans today while waiting for the No Way Home trailer to officially drop after last night's leak:
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313 notes · View notes
caramarafics · 3 years
Text
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Eeee I'm so happy that you liked it! I hope you're ready for this rollercoaster ride cause it's gonna be a fun one! 💙💙
Heart of Glass {1}
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~Chris Evans x OFC Devyn Thorne multi-chapter series~
Series Warnings: plot, slow burn, angst, fluff, eventual smut, sexual tension, mature content (18+ ONLY!!), friends to lovers, possible triggers (talks of past assault and abuse), time jumps (takes place between 2010, 2013-present)
****COVID DOES NOT HAPPEN IN THIS TIMELINE****
Summary: In the simplest explanation? Two idiots become friends and fall in love with each other over time. But they'll mess it up, obviously, cause they're idiots.
Words: 4.3k
A/N: Well hello there beautiful people!! Words cannot even describe just how excited I am to not only FINALLY be writing again, but writing my first ever Chris Evans fic!! So... originally this was a fic I had done almost five years ago that I had originally posted to Wattpad called Actress and the Athlete. But after awhile I lost interest in the story, as well as confidence in myself as a writer. But that was then, and this is now. I hope hope HOPE that you guys will enjoy this and PLEASE don’t be afraid to like, comment, and reblog once we begin this journey together.
But that was then, and this is now. I hope hope HOPE that you guys enjoy this and PLEASE don’t be afraid to like, comment, and reblog as we go on this journey together.
If you wish to be tagged in future chapters let me know!
Playlist for this chapter can be found here.
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~Las Vegas, Summer 2010~
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“Alright ladies, it is now 8:15!”
Rhiannon’s voice echoes as she walks down the halls of your hotel suite.
“Grab your room keys, purses, phones… tape down your wigs, tits, and lady bits! I wanna be out that door and in the cab in exactly 30 minutes.”
You shake your head and roll your eyes at your childhood friend. Her voice was loud as hell, always has been ever since you were kids. You would always joke how her voice was enough to wake the dead with ease. Even from the other side of this massive suite, even as the sounds of Michael, Tupac, Biggie, Janet, Prince, & Mike Jones on full blast through the in-wall sound system, you could still hear her clear as day! Nothing was a match for those powerful pipes.
“Almost ready,” you hear Aaliyah call out from one of the bathrooms. “Just gotta finish putting on my lashes.”
“Still?!?! Lee, you’ve been messing with those damn lashes for the past 30 minutes now. I’m ready, Devyn’s ready, Jules is ready… you’re the only one we’re waiting on! What are you doing, putting them on hair by hair or something?”
Aaliyah smirks, answering in sing-song. “You can’t rush perfection Rhiannon.”
“The hell I can’t Aaliyah!”
At the other end of the suite, towards the fully stocked bar, you hear your best friend Juliette (aka Jules) vibing and singing along to Janet Jackson’s Miss You Much. You look over to find her behind the bar placing several shot glasses atop and filling them with a clear liquor. Her piercing baby blue eyes find yours near the floor-to-ceiling windows, lounging in an oversized hanging chair.
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The both of you share a look of amusement before she picks up a shot and motions as if to ask if you would like one. You smile and mouth the word no and, with a smile and a shrug, downs the drink.
You chuckle softly at her and move from the hanging chair, making your way across the suite and towards the balcony as the bickering between Rhia and Lee continues.
“Well excuse me but not everyone is fortunate to be blessed by the lash fairies at birth. Some of us have to compensate for what we don’t have!”
Rhia groans, rolling her eyes. “Oh dios mio me estas matando! This is our last night here and I’ve been looking forward to eating at this place all week! And don’t you think for one second that I won’t leave your ass here, cause you know I will! I left your ass at the hotel in Miami, I left you in Cabo, I will leave you here. I love you Lee, you know I do, but I refuse to lose our reservation due to your shitty time management skills. Fifteen minutes!”
“Wait, what? That’s not fair! How’d it go from thirty minutes to fifteen now?!?” you could hear Lee shriek out.
To anyone on the outside looking in, one would assume Rhia and Lee to be bittersweet of enemies.
Joan and Bette.
Alexis and Dominique of Dynasty.
Tyra and Naomi.
However, after nearly 15 plus years of friendship, this was nothing new to you nor your small circle. In fact, this had become a common occurrence between them ever since your days of playing in the sandbox. They’d bicker back and forth, but at the end of the day they’d go back to loving one another. They were each other’s person, their lobster, that one person you would willingly end the world for if it meant their survival.
You open the glass sliding door that led out to the suite’s private balcony and step outside, shutting the door behind you. The suite itself was extravagant, but what really put it over the edge for you was this balcony. Completely level with the Las Vegas skyline, it came complete with heated tile floors, a glass & stone fire pit, two gorgeously decorated seating areas that surrounded a glass bottom 4-foot deep infinity edge pool. Making your way to one of the couches closest to the pool you take a seat on the couch, sinking comfortably into the featherdown cushions as you look out at the city.
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Shades of purple, red, orange, and pink stretched across the sky as the sun began its descent and a crescent moon took its place. At the same time, all the streetlights and neon lights throughout the infamous city began to awake from their slumber. One after another in near synchronization, ready and eager to welcome the night and the patrons that were soon to follow.
It was a beautiful night, a perfect way to end a perfect week and a near perfect girls trip.
You were dressed to the nines for this final night in Vegas, courtesy to Lee and her constant need to overpack. Originally you had chosen just a simple black cocktail dress you’ve had in your closet since high school and heels, nothing too flashy or over the top but modest and chic. Unfortunately for you, that was unanimously vetoed by the girls and the next thing you know you were being given the Princess Diaries treatment by your friends.
You were skeptical at first; the idea of wearing something of Lee’s that you knew for a fact cost just as much as your rent, if not more, and then accidentally spilling something on it or messing it up terrified you. But here you were hours laters after much convincing, and by convincing you meant being told this what was going to happen, in by far the most expensive outfit you would ever wear. Your hair was flawless, your eye makeup was snatched paired with a sultry nude lip, your body shimmered and shined, smelling of black orchid and vanilla. If you believed the words of your best friends you looked sexy. Sexy enough to bring any man, or woman, to their knees and at your every beckon call.
A sudden gust of cold air blew against your body that made you shiver, sparking goosebumps along your bare shoulders and open stomach. It felt nice, a small shift from the near triple digit heat you had endured the past week. It was a dry heat yes, but heat is still heat. Small price to pay for planning a girls trip right at the beginning of summer in the literal desert. Thankfully being born and raised in Houston, Texas all your life had made you more than used to this kind of weather.
Sinking further into the couch, you close your eyes and allow yourself to get swept away by the sounds of the city. You take a deep breath and slowly release it.
Vegas.
Of all the places in the world to choose from, all the places in the world, it had to be Vegas.
Not a beachfront resort on an island with white sandy beaches, crystal blue waters, fruity cocktails in actual fruit, and half-naked men willing and eager to “show you the island.” Not somewhere in the valleys of Wine Country surrounded by barrels and barrels of wine & high-end spa treatments, nor an overseas adventure in a country dripping in untouched beauty and historical, cultural significance where you could live out your 2000s Lizzie McGuire fantasy.
But rather, Las Vegas. The cultural mecca for showgirls, dirty deeds done dirt cheap, and raunchy tourists. Where the only cultural or historical significance was that a fat man with bad hair in a tacky sparkly jumpsuit wrote a half-decent song about it. Thank God you were with good company though or else this trip would have been a complete disaster.
For the most part it had been nothing short of memorable. Between riding ATV’s in Red Rock, a helicopter tour of the Grand Canyon, ziplining down the Strip, seeing a Cirque du Soleil show, the numerous nightclubs and bars, countless tourist spots, spa treatments, and shopping… every single moment was one to remember.
The only thing truly missing was your twin sister Corrie, currently somewhere in Europe living out her dream as a backup dancer for Lady Gaga. But before that, she had been gone for nearly ten months on the I Am… World Tour with Beyonce.
Yea, you read that right. Beyonce.
As in Crazy in Love, a diva is a female version of a hustler, Ms. Sasha Fierce herself, Beyonce!
She’s been a dancer for Beyonce since back in 2007 after nailing an open audition to be a part of her “Get Me Bodied” music video. She went on to perform with her at that year's BET Awards, then being selected to be one of two featured dancers in her now infamous “Single Ladies” music video. She’s been dancing for her ever since.
After the I Am tour ended she had a small two month break, but it came and went so fast that before you knew it you were with her boyfriend Theo driving her to the airport.
God you missed her. You thought about calling her but she was probably asleep or on a plane heading to the next city on the tour. Things just weren’t the same without her, seeing as this was the first girls trip you were all able to take without work or conflicting schedules getting in the way. It was also one meant to acknowledge and celebrate all the accomplishments made since graduating high school and leaving Houston to live out your dreams.
And everyone had something to celebrate. Rhia was about to start a summer internship for a major production company in Manhattan that designed costumes and sets for Broadway. Lee had two milestones to celebrate: landing her first big modeling contract for Wilhelmina Models as well as her first gig in Milan’s Fashion Week! Jules, the resident overachiever, had graduated Summa Cum Laude nearly a year early from Oxford with dual degrees in Archaeology & Zoology as well as her masters in Anthropology!
What about you? What special achievement were you celebrating?
A promotion? New apartment?
Landing that big role you’ve been dying for?
A new love perhaps?
Grabbing your phone off the glass table in front of you, you open up your text messages, rereading a conversation from earlier in the day between you and your manager Yvette.
[Text 1] [Text 2] [Text 3] [Text 4] [Text 5] [Text 6]
So let’s rephrase: almost everyone had something to celebrate.
You read the conversation two more times, each time feeling the disappointment and indecisiveness of your uncertain future overwhelm you, before setting your phone back onto the table. Ultimately you knew that Yvette was right, that you shouldn’t give up so easily. But after so many no’s, after so many doors being slammed in your face, it was starting to become more and more difficult to believe in something you had dreamed about since you were five years old. You and Corrie were home sick and your mother, an avid musical fan, put on one of her favorites for you to watch, The Wiz. Even at such a young age you remember being instantly captivated by all the sounds and gorgeous imagery, the pure shock on your face when your mom told you that Michael Jackson was the scarecrow, the excitement when they defeated Evilene, and the tears you cried listening to Diana Ross as she sang both “Can I Go On?” and “Home.”
After that it became a love that you both shared. Every other Saturday night, she would drive the both of you into town to this old movie theater that showed nothing but classic movies and old school musicals. Tucked under her arm, your eyes would light up watching films ranging from Bye, Bye Birdie and Grease to Fame and Little Shop of Horrors. From Hello Dolly!, Calamity Jane and The Music Man, to Cabaret, Sparkle, and The Rocky Horror Picture Show.
Then at nine, you got your first taste of an actual Broadway show during a family trip to New York City. Your mom had been saving every single penny she made that year so that you and her could see the revival of The Wiz and from the moment the curtains opened to that final bow you were completely enthralled. This was everything you had imagined and so much more. The sets, the costumes, the score… the sheer pageantry of it all. You even got to go backstage and meet some of the cast!
On that cab ride back to the hotel, you let your mom and dad know that this was what you wanted to do for the rest of your life.
“When I grow up, I’m gonna do this,” you had declared. “I’m gonna move to New York, I’m gonna sing and dance and perform on a stage like that. I’m gonna have people come from everywhere just to watch me and cheer my name. I’m going to be on Broadway.”
You listened to several family members along with various other “concerned individuals” voice their opinions. You sat through the multiple lectures and frivolous attempts to persuade you into a different path.
Become a music teacher, they would say.
A doctor.
Lawyer.
Hell, even a bartender! Just something that was viewed as safe, sustainable, and stable.
You knew how hard it would be to make it onto a Broadway stage. You knew how competitive it was going to be, just how many other girls like you wanted the exact same dream, all about the insane odds of actually having a legitimate and fulfilling career in theater. Hell, the statistics of a woman, especially for women of color, landing a leading role in a production were downright pitiful!
But you didn’t care. This was your dream you’d be damned if you didn’t at least try to make it into a reality.
Fast forward thirteen years and here you are: 22, a struggling theater major at both NYU & NYFA, busting your ass working three jobs that don’t pay nearly enough, living in a tiny studio apartment in Brooklyn that you could barely afford, auditioning for everything and anything that came your way, but still nowhere near as close to a Broadway debut that you were when you were nine.
You picked up bit parts here and there; ensemble, swing, gossipy neighbor #4, but nothing was ever really concrete. You started taking a few acting gigs working as an extra in several tv shows that were being filmed within the city. It wasn’t until this past October when you were cast as Janet in an Off-Broadway Halloween production of The Rocky Horror Picture Show that you had gotten a small high and had begun to for a brief and shiny moment, felt as if things were finally looking up. But due to the show being seasonal, that high was gone just as quickly as it had come when the show came to close mid-November.
Which meant you were once again back at square one, with no back-up plan whatsoever.
The girls didn’t know about Memphis, nor about the others. They only knew what you were telling them, that you had multiple options lined up and were just waiting to make a decision. Yes it was a lie, and a pretty bad one at that. You didn’t want to dampen the mood of the trip, especially with all the wonderful things they had all recently achieved. No need for them to feel pity for you, no more than you already felt as is.
You close your eyes and drop your head back against the head of the couch, releasing the breath you hadn’t realized you had been holding. You stare up at the night sky, feeling the tears begin to form to which you quickly wiped away, careful as to not smudge your makeup.
“Ugh, fuck, not here. Stop it Devyn. Pull yourself together.”
But you didn’t pull yourself together nor did the tears stop. Your brain replayed the events of the last two years with the emphasis on every moment you viewed as a failure. The more you thought about your failure, the uncertainty of your future, the more the tears formed ready to spring from your eyes. You thought about letting your family down. You thought about letting your friends down. You thought about how you should have just listened to everybody else and opted for a more realistic, simple career rather than this.
You despised feeling like this, focusing on the negatives. You knew that it would get you absolutely nowhere so you would force yourself to think positive, keep your emotions in check, and push down all those insecurities as far as you possibly could and push forward. But right now that was not the case. The weight of everything had begun to crash and burn all around you, and you didn’t know if you could handle it.
“Stop, stop, stop… ugh goddamn it.” you scold yourself, as you continue to wipe away the tears.
You were so wrapped up in your own downward spiral, you never heard the balcony door slide open. Nor did you hear the click-clacking of heels making their way towards you, or feel the weight of the couch suddenly shift. It wasn’t until you felt a slender, pink manicured hand place itself on your knee, nearly startling you to death, that you realized you were no longer alone.
You don’t bother to look. You knew exactly who it was.
“How long have you been sitting there?”
Jules’ voice was soft and filled with compassion. “Not long, a few minutes maybe.”
You let out a defeated sigh, still refusing to look over at her. “Do they know?”
She shakes her head. “No, I told them you’re on the phone with Corrie. Plus Rhi’s busy trying to rush Lee along like a damn drill sergeant.”
That made you chuckle a little before dropping your head into your hands, a soft groan escaping your lips.
Jules says nothing but places four shots down on the table next to your phone, two filled with a honey colored liquor, the other two with what appeared to be water. Then she places a compact and a small makeup bag next to them.
Looking up from your hands, you immediately reach for one of the shots, settling for the one that looked like water. The scent coming from the drink instantly hit your nostrils and caused your whole face to scrunch. This was definitely not water.
Fuck it, you thought.
Without hesitation you quickly downed the glass, trying hard not to gag as it burned going down your throat. It was tequila, cheap tequila at that. Jules’ favorite.
“Ugh!”
Jules lets out a high-pitch laugh as you try not to gag.
“Seriously Jules, how the hell can you drink this crap?”
She shrugs and grabs the other tequila shot and downs it, giving an exaggerated ahh afterwards. “Like that. Anyway, you’re the one who needs to catch up. This is number four for me now.”
“Holy shit Jules four?!?! Have you at least eaten anything yet?”
The shit-eating grin that stretched across her face answered your question.
You let out a snort and roll your eyes at her. “Oh God. You better slow down, I don’t need you falling some damn rose bushes again.”
“Ok first of all, they were hydrangeas. And second, you know good and well that between the five of us I am the last person you need to worry about not being able to hold their liquor.” she teased.
You smirk and the both of you share a laugh. She was right though. In your small circle of friends, Jules had always been the only one who had a high tolerance. The one you most definitely needed to worry about was Lee, aka “Ms. gets plastered off three glasses of Pinot Noir.” The last time you saw Lee really drunk was on her 21st birthday in Cabo. Some guy she had been ‘seeing’ at the time kept buying shot after shot of the most expensive tequila the club had. She ended up dancing atop the bar and both her and Rhia nearly started a fight with another girl all because Lee thought she had stolen her wallet. Her wallet was in her hand the whole time.
You shake your head and grab both the compact and small makeup bag. Jules says nothing as she watches you fix your makeup and hide any evidence of your little pity party. Not once did she ask what was wrong, why you were crying, or anything like that. She just sat next to you, watching you try and fix what she and Lee created before she grabbed the eye pencil from you and took matters into her own hands.
Aside from Corrie, Jules was probably the second you were closest to growing up. Originally from the UK, she had moved to Houston with her godparents Jasmine and Steven when she was 10 after losing her own parents in a tragic car accident. She was so completely closed off at first and had an extremely hard time making friends, often a target for bullies who would make fun of her thick British accent. That is until one day during lunch when those bullies decided to pick on her yet again. They were met with the backside of Rhia’s lunch tray and Corrie’s size 7.5 Doc Martens. And the rest was history, she became a part of the group.
She and you were a lot alike in many ways; you were both introverted and shy, homebodies at heart who often kept to yourselves until you truly got to know them (or after several rounds of tequila). Absolutely nowhere near the social butterflies that Rhiannon, Aaliyah, and your sister were. But the two of you always had the ability to bring each other out of your shells.
Once she finished fixing you up she put everything back in her little bag and rose up from the couch, her arms stretched out in front of you. You quickly stand and walk right into them, embracing her. It takes everything in you not to start crying again as she hugs you, but you manage to keep it in. The two of you stay like this for a few moments before Jules pulls away to look at you. She moves one of her hands to softly caress your cheek, using her thumb to swipe away a forgotten tear.
“Do you wanna talk about it?”
You look up at her and shake your head.
“Ok. But you know you can always come to me about anything, right?”
You nod your head.
“No more how big or how small it is… or if it’s something you might be too embarrassed to talk about?”
“I know, I know.” you sigh. “It’s nothing, just some shit going on with work. You know Merv’s still pissed at me for coming here and is probably gonna have me working doubles for the next week. Nothing I can’t handle though.”
Jules’ face soured at the mention of my boss. She hated him with a fiery passion, often called “Merv the Perv” due to his constant need to ogle every ass within a five foot radius of him.
“But I’m fine, I promise. You don’t need to worry so much.”
“Ha, yea ok sure.” she snorts. “If I don’t worry then who else will?”
“Well let’s see: there’s Corrie, Jude, my dad, my grandparents, that sweet little old lady down the hall from me…”
“Haha, very funny Devyn. But I’m serious.”
“Jules, there is nothing for you to worry about.” you lie. “I promise you. I’m fine.”
Jules always had a knack of seeing through your little façades and you could tell she wasn’t buying anything that you were selling. Before she had the chance to call you out though, the sliding glass door flew open with such force that you swore it came off its hinges. In an instant Rhia’s head popped out into view.
“Hallefuckinlujah!” she shouts. “The princess is finally ready. Grab your shit girls, we’re out the door in three minutes!”
Just as fast as Rhia’s head popped out did it retreat back inside and the balcony door slid shut. You snort and fall into a fit of laughter with Jules following right behind you. The two of you laughed for what felt like forever, so much so that you were both in tears clutching your sides.
Once the laughter died down and a comfortable silence fell around, Jules let out a sigh and bent down to grab the remaining two shots off the table.
“One more for the road?”
You chuckle softly and accept the shot from her. Immediately, a variety of aromas began to dance around your nose. Vanilla, oak, caramel, and butterscotch.
You smile. Bourbon, your favorite.
“And you judge me and my taste, yet you drink that. Honestly Dev, how can you even stomach this crap?”
“Like this.” Mimicking her actions from earlier, you take the shot without any hesitation and letting out an exaggerated ahh similar to hers. Jules’ face sours as she takes back her shot causing you to snicker.
“Ugh, this crap is too damn sweet!”
You kissed your teeth. “Coming from the woman who drinks cheap tequila. At least mine doesn’t burn on the way down.”
“Nah, just leaves you with a few cavities!” she coughs out.
“Whatever.”
“Devyn! Jules! Let’s go, my stomach is louder than a damn grizzly bear!”
You roll her eyes at Rhia’s statement as Jules takes the now empty glass from you and places it on the table. She gives you one last hug before grabbing her makeup bag & compact and heads back inside the suite. Alone once again, you grab your phone and take one last look out at The Strip. You sigh as you gather yourself and your thoughts.
Alright Devyn you had your little moment, you thought to yourself. Put on your big girl panties and push that shit back down where it belongs. Show no signs of distress or weakness. Nothing’s wrong, everything’s fine...
“DEVYN!!”
“I’M COMING!!”
This is going to be a long night…
~~~~~
If you wish to be tagged in future chapters, comment or send me an ask. Like, reblog, and share!!
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Tag List:
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caramarafics · 3 years
Text
Heart of Glass {1}
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~Chris Evans x OFC Devyn Thorne multi-chapter series~
Series Warnings: plot, slow burn, angst, fluff, eventual smut, sexual tension, mature content (18+ ONLY!!), friends to lovers, possible triggers (talks of past assault and abuse), time jumps (takes place between 2010, 2013-present)
****COVID DOES NOT HAPPEN IN THIS TIMELINE****
Summary: In the simplest explanation? Two idiots become friends and fall in love with each other over time. But they'll mess it up, obviously, cause they're idiots.
Words: 4.3k
A/N: Well hello there beautiful people!! Words cannot even describe just how excited I am to not only FINALLY be writing again, but writing my first ever Chris Evans fic!! So... originally this was a fic I had done almost five years ago that I had originally posted to Wattpad called Actress and the Athlete. But after awhile I lost interest in the story, as well as confidence in myself as a writer. But that was then, and this is now. I hope hope HOPE that you guys will enjoy this and PLEASE don’t be afraid to like, comment, and reblog once we begin this journey together.
But that was then, and this is now. I hope hope HOPE that you guys enjoy this and PLEASE don’t be afraid to like, comment, and reblog as we go on this journey together.
If you wish to be tagged in future chapters let me know!
Playlist for this chapter can be found here.
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~Las Vegas, Summer 2010~
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“Alright ladies, it is now 8:15!”
Rhiannon’s voice echoes as she walks down the halls of your hotel suite.
“Grab your room keys, purses, phones… tape down your wigs, tits, and lady bits! I wanna be out that door and in the cab in exactly 30 minutes.”
You shake your head and roll your eyes at your childhood friend. Her voice was loud as hell, always has been ever since you were kids. You would always joke how her voice was enough to wake the dead with ease. Even from the other side of this massive suite, even as the sounds of Michael, Tupac, Biggie, Janet, Prince, & Mike Jones on full blast through the in-wall sound system, you could still hear her clear as day! Nothing was a match for those powerful pipes.
“Almost ready,” you hear Aaliyah call out from one of the bathrooms. “Just gotta finish putting on my lashes.”
“Still?!?! Lee, you’ve been messing with those damn lashes for the past 30 minutes now. I’m ready, Devyn’s ready, Jules is ready… you’re the only one we’re waiting on! What are you doing, putting them on hair by hair or something?”
Aaliyah smirks, answering in sing-song. “You can’t rush perfection Rhiannon.”
“The hell I can’t Aaliyah!”
At the other end of the suite, towards the fully stocked bar, you hear your best friend Juliette (aka Jules) vibing and singing along to Janet Jackson’s Miss You Much. You look over to find her behind the bar placing several shot glasses atop and filling them with a clear liquor. Her piercing baby blue eyes find yours near the floor-to-ceiling windows, lounging in an oversized hanging chair.
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The both of you share a look of amusement before she picks up a shot and motions as if to ask if you would like one. You smile and mouth the word no and, with a smile and a shrug, downs the drink.
You chuckle softly at her and move from the hanging chair, making your way across the suite and towards the balcony as the bickering between Rhia and Lee continues.
“Well excuse me but not everyone is fortunate to be blessed by the lash fairies at birth. Some of us have to compensate for what we don’t have!”
Rhia groans, rolling her eyes. “Oh dios mio me estas matando! This is our last night here and I’ve been looking forward to eating at this place all week! And don’t you think for one second that I won’t leave your ass here, cause you know I will! I left your ass at the hotel in Miami, I left you in Cabo, I will leave you here. I love you Lee, you know I do, but I refuse to lose our reservation due to your shitty time management skills. Fifteen minutes!”
“Wait, what? That’s not fair! How’d it go from thirty minutes to fifteen now?!?” you could hear Lee shriek out.
To anyone on the outside looking in, one would assume Rhia and Lee to be bittersweet of enemies.
Joan and Bette.
Alexis and Dominique of Dynasty.
Tyra and Naomi.
However, after nearly 15 plus years of friendship, this was nothing new to you nor your small circle. In fact, this had become a common occurrence between them ever since your days of playing in the sandbox. They’d bicker back and forth, but at the end of the day they’d go back to loving one another. They were each other’s person, their lobster, that one person you would willingly end the world for if it meant their survival.
You open the glass sliding door that led out to the suite’s private balcony and step outside, shutting the door behind you. The suite itself was extravagant, but what really put it over the edge for you was this balcony. Completely level with the Las Vegas skyline, it came complete with heated tile floors, a glass & stone fire pit, two gorgeously decorated seating areas that surrounded a glass bottom 4-foot deep infinity edge pool. Making your way to one of the couches closest to the pool you take a seat on the couch, sinking comfortably into the featherdown cushions as you look out at the city.
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Shades of purple, red, orange, and pink stretched across the sky as the sun began its descent and a crescent moon took its place. At the same time, all the streetlights and neon lights throughout the infamous city began to awake from their slumber. One after another in near synchronization, ready and eager to welcome the night and the patrons that were soon to follow.
It was a beautiful night, a perfect way to end a perfect week and a near perfect girls trip.
You were dressed to the nines for this final night in Vegas, courtesy to Lee and her constant need to overpack. Originally you had chosen just a simple black cocktail dress you’ve had in your closet since high school and heels, nothing too flashy or over the top but modest and chic. Unfortunately for you, that was unanimously vetoed by the girls and the next thing you know you were being given the Princess Diaries treatment by your friends.
You were skeptical at first; the idea of wearing something of Lee’s that you knew for a fact cost just as much as your rent, if not more, and then accidentally spilling something on it or messing it up terrified you. But here you were hours laters after much convincing, and by convincing you meant being told this what was going to happen, in by far the most expensive outfit you would ever wear. Your hair was flawless, your eye makeup was snatched paired with a sultry nude lip, your body shimmered and shined, smelling of black orchid and vanilla. If you believed the words of your best friends you looked sexy. Sexy enough to bring any man, or woman, to their knees and at your every beckon call.
A sudden gust of cold air blew against your body that made you shiver, sparking goosebumps along your bare shoulders and open stomach. It felt nice, a small shift from the near triple digit heat you had endured the past week. It was a dry heat yes, but heat is still heat. Small price to pay for planning a girls trip right at the beginning of summer in the literal desert. Thankfully being born and raised in Houston, Texas all your life had made you more than used to this kind of weather.
Sinking further into the couch, you close your eyes and allow yourself to get swept away by the sounds of the city. You take a deep breath and slowly release it.
Vegas.
Of all the places in the world to choose from, all the places in the world, it had to be Vegas.
Not a beachfront resort on an island with white sandy beaches, crystal blue waters, fruity cocktails in actual fruit, and half-naked men willing and eager to “show you the island.” Not somewhere in the valleys of Wine Country surrounded by barrels and barrels of wine & high-end spa treatments, nor an overseas adventure in a country dripping in untouched beauty and historical, cultural significance where you could live out your 2000s Lizzie McGuire fantasy.
But rather, Las Vegas. The cultural mecca for showgirls, dirty deeds done dirt cheap, and raunchy tourists. Where the only cultural or historical significance was that a fat man with bad hair in a tacky sparkly jumpsuit wrote a half-decent song about it. Thank God you were with good company though or else this trip would have been a complete disaster.
For the most part it had been nothing short of memorable. Between riding ATV’s in Red Rock, a helicopter tour of the Grand Canyon, ziplining down the Strip, seeing a Cirque du Soleil show, the numerous nightclubs and bars, countless tourist spots, spa treatments, and shopping… every single moment was one to remember.
The only thing truly missing was your twin sister Corrie, currently somewhere in Europe living out her dream as a backup dancer for Lady Gaga. But before that, she had been gone for nearly ten months on the I Am… World Tour with Beyonce.
Yea, you read that right. Beyonce.
As in Crazy in Love, a diva is a female version of a hustler, Ms. Sasha Fierce herself, Beyonce!
She’s been a dancer for Beyonce since back in 2007 after nailing an open audition to be a part of her “Get Me Bodied” music video. She went on to perform with her at that year's BET Awards, then being selected to be one of two featured dancers in her now infamous “Single Ladies” music video. She’s been dancing for her ever since.
After the I Am tour ended she had a small two month break, but it came and went so fast that before you knew it you were with her boyfriend Theo driving her to the airport.
God you missed her. You thought about calling her but she was probably asleep or on a plane heading to the next city on the tour. Things just weren’t the same without her, seeing as this was the first girls trip you were all able to take without work or conflicting schedules getting in the way. It was also one meant to acknowledge and celebrate all the accomplishments made since graduating high school and leaving Houston to live out your dreams.
And everyone had something to celebrate. Rhia was about to start a summer internship for a major production company in Manhattan that designed costumes and sets for Broadway. Lee had two milestones to celebrate: landing her first big modeling contract for Wilhelmina Models as well as her first gig in Milan’s Fashion Week! Jules, the resident overachiever, had graduated Summa Cum Laude nearly a year early from Oxford with dual degrees in Archaeology & Zoology as well as her masters in Anthropology!
What about you? What special achievement were you celebrating?
A promotion? New apartment?
Landing that big role you’ve been dying for?
A new love perhaps?
Grabbing your phone off the glass table in front of you, you open up your text messages, rereading a conversation from earlier in the day between you and your manager Yvette.
[Text 1] [Text 2] [Text 3] [Text 4] [Text 5] [Text 6]
So let’s rephrase: almost everyone had something to celebrate.
You read the conversation two more times, each time feeling the disappointment and indecisiveness of your uncertain future overwhelm you, before setting your phone back onto the table. Ultimately you knew that Yvette was right, that you shouldn’t give up so easily. But after so many no’s, after so many doors being slammed in your face, it was starting to become more and more difficult to believe in something you had dreamed about since you were five years old. You and Corrie were home sick and your mother, an avid musical fan, put on one of her favorites for you to watch, The Wiz. Even at such a young age you remember being instantly captivated by all the sounds and gorgeous imagery, the pure shock on your face when your mom told you that Michael Jackson was the scarecrow, the excitement when they defeated Evilene, and the tears you cried listening to Diana Ross as she sang both “Can I Go On?” and “Home.”
After that it became a love that you both shared. Every other Saturday night, she would drive the both of you into town to this old movie theater that showed nothing but classic movies and old school musicals. Tucked under her arm, your eyes would light up watching films ranging from Bye, Bye Birdie and Grease to Fame and Little Shop of Horrors. From Hello Dolly!, Calamity Jane and The Music Man, to Cabaret, Sparkle, and The Rocky Horror Picture Show.
Then at nine, you got your first taste of an actual Broadway show during a family trip to New York City. Your mom had been saving every single penny she made that year so that you and her could see the revival of The Wiz and from the moment the curtains opened to that final bow you were completely enthralled. This was everything you had imagined and so much more. The sets, the costumes, the score… the sheer pageantry of it all. You even got to go backstage and meet some of the cast!
On that cab ride back to the hotel, you let your mom and dad know that this was what you wanted to do for the rest of your life.
“When I grow up, I’m gonna do this,” you had declared. “I’m gonna move to New York, I’m gonna sing and dance and perform on a stage like that. I’m gonna have people come from everywhere just to watch me and cheer my name. I’m going to be on Broadway.”
You listened to several family members along with various other “concerned individuals” voice their opinions. You sat through the multiple lectures and frivolous attempts to persuade you into a different path.
Become a music teacher, they would say.
A doctor.
Lawyer.
Hell, even a bartender! Just something that was viewed as safe, sustainable, and stable.
You knew how hard it would be to make it onto a Broadway stage. You knew how competitive it was going to be, just how many other girls like you wanted the exact same dream, all about the insane odds of actually having a legitimate and fulfilling career in theater. Hell, the statistics of a woman, especially for women of color, landing a leading role in a production were downright pitiful!
But you didn’t care. This was your dream you’d be damned if you didn’t at least try to make it into a reality.
Fast forward thirteen years and here you are: 22, a struggling theater major at both NYU & NYFA, busting your ass working three jobs that don’t pay nearly enough, living in a tiny studio apartment in Brooklyn that you could barely afford, auditioning for everything and anything that came your way, but still nowhere near as close to a Broadway debut that you were when you were nine.
You picked up bit parts here and there; ensemble, swing, gossipy neighbor #4, but nothing was ever really concrete. You started taking a few acting gigs working as an extra in several tv shows that were being filmed within the city. It wasn’t until this past October when you were cast as Janet in an Off-Broadway Halloween production of The Rocky Horror Picture Show that you had gotten a small high and had begun to for a brief and shiny moment, felt as if things were finally looking up. But due to the show being seasonal, that high was gone just as quickly as it had come when the show came to close mid-November.
Which meant you were once again back at square one, with no back-up plan whatsoever.
The girls didn’t know about Memphis, nor about the others. They only knew what you were telling them, that you had multiple options lined up and were just waiting to make a decision. Yes it was a lie, and a pretty bad one at that. You didn’t want to dampen the mood of the trip, especially with all the wonderful things they had all recently achieved. No need for them to feel pity for you, no more than you already felt as is.
You close your eyes and drop your head back against the head of the couch, releasing the breath you hadn’t realized you had been holding. You stare up at the night sky, feeling the tears begin to form to which you quickly wiped away, careful as to not smudge your makeup.
“Ugh, fuck, not here. Stop it Devyn. Pull yourself together.”
But you didn’t pull yourself together nor did the tears stop. Your brain replayed the events of the last two years with the emphasis on every moment you viewed as a failure. The more you thought about your failure, the uncertainty of your future, the more the tears formed ready to spring from your eyes. You thought about letting your family down. You thought about letting your friends down. You thought about how you should have just listened to everybody else and opted for a more realistic, simple career rather than this.
You despised feeling like this, focusing on the negatives. You knew that it would get you absolutely nowhere so you would force yourself to think positive, keep your emotions in check, and push down all those insecurities as far as you possibly could and push forward. But right now that was not the case. The weight of everything had begun to crash and burn all around you, and you didn’t know if you could handle it.
“Stop, stop, stop… ugh goddamn it.” you scold yourself, as you continue to wipe away the tears.
You were so wrapped up in your own downward spiral, you never heard the balcony door slide open. Nor did you hear the click-clacking of heels making their way towards you, or feel the weight of the couch suddenly shift. It wasn’t until you felt a slender, pink manicured hand place itself on your knee, nearly startling you to death, that you realized you were no longer alone.
You don’t bother to look. You knew exactly who it was.
“How long have you been sitting there?”
Jules’ voice was soft and filled with compassion. “Not long, a few minutes maybe.”
You let out a defeated sigh, still refusing to look over at her. “Do they know?”
She shakes her head. “No, I told them you’re on the phone with Corrie. Plus Rhi’s busy trying to rush Lee along like a damn drill sergeant.”
That made you chuckle a little before dropping your head into your hands, a soft groan escaping your lips.
Jules says nothing but places four shots down on the table next to your phone, two filled with a honey colored liquor, the other two with what appeared to be water. Then she places a compact and a small makeup bag next to them.
Looking up from your hands, you immediately reach for one of the shots, settling for the one that looked like water. The scent coming from the drink instantly hit your nostrils and caused your whole face to scrunch. This was definitely not water.
Fuck it, you thought.
Without hesitation you quickly downed the glass, trying hard not to gag as it burned going down your throat. It was tequila, cheap tequila at that. Jules’ favorite.
“Ugh!”
Jules lets out a high-pitch laugh as you try not to gag.
“Seriously Jules, how the hell can you drink this crap?”
She shrugs and grabs the other tequila shot and downs it, giving an exaggerated ahh afterwards. “Like that. Anyway, you’re the one who needs to catch up. This is number four for me now.”
“Holy shit Jules four?!?! Have you at least eaten anything yet?”
The shit-eating grin that stretched across her face answered your question.
You let out a snort and roll your eyes at her. “Oh God. You better slow down, I don’t need you falling some damn rose bushes again.”
“Ok first of all, they were hydrangeas. And second, you know good and well that between the five of us I am the last person you need to worry about not being able to hold their liquor.” she teased.
You smirk and the both of you share a laugh. She was right though. In your small circle of friends, Jules had always been the only one who had a high tolerance. The one you most definitely needed to worry about was Lee, aka “Ms. gets plastered off three glasses of Pinot Noir.” The last time you saw Lee really drunk was on her 21st birthday in Cabo. Some guy she had been ‘seeing’ at the time kept buying shot after shot of the most expensive tequila the club had. She ended up dancing atop the bar and both her and Rhia nearly started a fight with another girl all because Lee thought she had stolen her wallet. Her wallet was in her hand the whole time.
You shake your head and grab both the compact and small makeup bag. Jules says nothing as she watches you fix your makeup and hide any evidence of your little pity party. Not once did she ask what was wrong, why you were crying, or anything like that. She just sat next to you, watching you try and fix what she and Lee created before she grabbed the eye pencil from you and took matters into her own hands.
She and you were a lot alike in many ways; you were both introverted and shy, homebodies at heart who often kept to yourselves until you truly got to know them (or after several rounds of tequila). Absolutely nowhere near the social butterflies that Rhiannon, Aaliyah, and your sister were. But the two of you always had the ability to bring each other out of your shells.
Aside from Corrie, Jules was probably the second you were closest to growing up. Originally from the UK, she had moved to Houston with her godparents Jasmine and Steven when she was 10 after losing her own parents in a tragic car accident. She was so completely closed off at first and had an extremely hard time making friends, often a target for bullies who would make fun of her thick British accent. That is until one day during lunch when those bullies decided to pick on her yet again. They were met with the backside of Rhia’s lunch tray and Corrie’s size 7.5 Doc Martens. And the rest was history, she became a part of the group.
Once she finished fixing you up she put everything back in her little bag and rose up from the couch, her arms stretched out in front of you. You quickly stand and walk right into them, embracing her. It takes everything in you not to start crying again as she hugs you, but you manage to keep it in. The two of you stay like this for a few moments before Jules pulls away to look at you. She moves one of her hands to softly caress your cheek, using her thumb to swipe away a forgotten tear.
“Do you wanna talk about it?”
You look up at her and shake your head.
“Ok. But you know you can always come to me about anything, right?”
You nod your head.
“No more how big or how small it is… or if it’s something you might be too embarrassed to talk about?”
“I know, I know.” you sigh. “It’s nothing, just some shit going on with work. You know Merv’s still pissed at me for coming here and is probably gonna have me working doubles for the next week. Nothing I can’t handle though.”
Jules’ face soured at the mention of my boss. She hated him with a fiery passion, often called “Merv the Perv” due to his constant need to ogle every ass within a five foot radius of him.
“But I’m fine, I promise. You don’t need to worry so much.”
“Ha, yea ok sure.” she snorts. “If I don’t worry then who else will?”
“Well let’s see: there’s Corrie, Jude, my dad, my grandparents, that sweet little old lady down the hall from me…”
“Haha, very funny Devyn. But I’m serious.”
“Jules, there is nothing for you to worry about.” you lie. “I promise you. I’m fine.”
Jules always had a knack of seeing through your little façades and you could tell she wasn’t buying anything that you were selling. Before she had the chance to call you out though, the sliding glass door flew open with such force that you swore it came off its hinges. In an instant Rhia’s head popped out into view.
“Hallefuckinlujah!” she shouts. “The princess is finally ready. Grab your shit girls, we’re out the door in three minutes!”
Just as fast as Rhia’s head popped out did it retreat back inside and the balcony door slid shut. You snort and fall into a fit of laughter with Jules following right behind you. The two of you laughed for what felt like forever, so much so that you were both in tears clutching your sides.
Once the laughter died down and a comfortable silence fell around, Jules let out a sigh and bent down to grab the remaining two shots off the table.
“One more for the road?”
You chuckle softly and accept the shot from her. Immediately, a variety of aromas began to dance around your nose. Vanilla, oak, caramel, and butterscotch.
You smile. Bourbon, your favorite.
“And you judge me and my taste, yet you drink that. Honestly Dev, how can you even stomach this crap?”
“Like this.” Mimicking her actions from earlier, you take the shot without any hesitation and letting out an exaggerated ahh similar to hers. Jules’ face sours as she takes back her shot causing you to snicker.
“Ugh, this crap is too damn sweet!”
You kissed your teeth. “Coming from the woman who drinks cheap tequila. At least mine doesn’t burn on the way down.”
“Nah, just leaves you with a few cavities!” she coughs out.
“Whatever.”
“Devyn! Jules! Let’s go, my stomach is louder than a damn grizzly bear!”
You roll her eyes at Rhia’s statement as Jules takes the now empty glass from you and places it on the table. She gives you one last hug before grabbing her makeup bag & compact and heads back inside the suite. Alone once again, you grab your phone and take one last look out at The Strip. You sigh as you gather yourself and your thoughts.
Alright Devyn you had your little moment, you thought to yourself. Put on your big girl panties and push that shit back down where it belongs. Show no signs of distress or weakness. Nothing’s wrong, everything’s fine...
“DEVYN!!”
“I’M COMING!!”
This is going to be a long night…
~~~~~
If you wish to be tagged in future chapters, comment or send me an ask. Like, reblog, and share!!
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