steviesings

[steviesings]

perrieedwards: Daisy daze

#( visage. )

[steviesings]

#( visage. )

[steviesings]

@perrieeele:  🌸

#( visage. )

[steviesings]

i’d never walk cornelia street again

#( muse. )

[steviesings]

#( visage. )

[steviesings]

p i s c e s  ☆  for @kkamala

pisces is the twelfth astrological sign in the zodiac . in classical interpretations, the symbol of the fish is derived from the ichthyocentaurs, who aided aphrodite when she was born from the sea .

#( muse. )

[steviesings]

Perrie showcasing her holiday dance moves.

#( visage. )

[steviesings]

little mix sismances; [5/7]

lerrie ღ “yes, lerrie is real.”

#( ft. symone )

[steviesings]

#( my everything. )

[steviesings]

#( visage. )

[steviesings]

likelyla‌:

“So great? So loved?” Lyla replied for the other woman, a small smile appearing though she wouldn’t linger on the album’s success too much longer. What she wouldn’t say was that the first time she listened to it, she knew it would be the one; the reason for fame. The lyricism and emotion were too raw and real for people to cast it aside. No critic could claim vanity or a false sense of authenticity, Stevie was too much of an individual for either branch of negativity.

When Stevie’s arms wrapped around her, Lyla barely had time to melt. Her arms instinctively moved in the same way, hugging her close for the briefest moment in time. Both appeared a bit startled by how naturally they’d reacted once it was over. “We should,” the brunette replied with a laugh, albeit a forced one. She could have hung out alone anywhere with Stevie.

“Please, don’t.” She waved her hands dismissively at the claims that she herself had also heard. “It’s flattering to hear the buzz but, it won’t be me. I doubt it’s in the cards.” Which she truly did believe. Lyla barely had any examples to go on when it came to acting, considering she’d only done a high school play once. Whatever she brought to the screen was the roughest draft of anything she’d ever done. It was good enough, all things considered. She didn’t stand out like a sore thumb in the incredible cast she accompanied, and that was enough for her.

Lyla turned to fix herself in the mirror one last time before the two of them headed back to the theater. “You’re coming to the after party, right?” She asked, hopeful that Stevie would. Anyone within the premiere was invited which meant it was probable and would be a good avenue for more press. Which both of them needed to help stay in the game. “I’m being forced to, for obvious reasons. But the food and booze sound great right now.”

Without placing too much pressure, Lyla moved to the door to hold it open for Stevie, “God knows you’ll see some embarrassing dancing on my end, a high form of entertainment.” She laughed, walking slowly beside the other as they approached the doors. “Just in case we don’t see each other, I’m really happy you were here, that I got to see you.” Lyla took Stevie’s hand, patting it and rubbing her palm like she used to. She let it drop quickly, out of respect for everything Stevie was now.

There would be no more commotion on Lyla’s end; she wished her ex-girlfriend all the best, and even if they didn’t see each other after this exchange, there wouldn’t be a day that didn’t pass without Lyla being her biggest fan, someone with unwavering support.

“All of the above,” Stevie grinned. Truly, Stevie hadn’t expected to reach the level she had. Before, she had been a girl with a dream, a small platform and barely two hundred dollars to her name. If Stevie failed, she didn’t even have her old room to go back to. Now, Stevie was known. It felt weird being on the come up, but also humbling. All those years of struggling, of depression and wishing and praying for a chance, she had all the hopes and dreams of that girl in spades. An album on the billboard 100, a song in a breakout movie, a tour with a European leg. Stevie Daniels had never thought this would be her reality - that this reality was even possible. Sure, some critics hated it. She overshared, it was weak and too emotional, too vapid and too obvious, but hate was blind, and she felt truly on top of the world.

The hug was brief and in it, Stevie relived an entire lifetime between them. It’d be easy to melt back into Lyla’s life and try again. When she felt Lyla’s arms around her, even for that second, she wanted to beg her to try again. It’d be different and new, they were better. It made her recoil. She didn’t want to be that girl who cried in her bedroom and claimed it was over, just to go back because of all the reasons she declared why they never worked. They were happier now, a part. Lyla had become an actress, Stevie a musician - all was right in the world. But then, life always felt better with Lyla in the beginning.

“I would never say never. We don’t know the cards we’re dealt with,” Stevie said. “I think for your first time, being nominated means a lot.” Grinning, she said, “And besides, it’s called the New Actor, you’re not getting an award against, I don’t know, Leonardo DiCaprio.” Then she grinned wider, tapping her finger against the ceramic of the counter, “Then again, if that was the competition, maybe you would win.”

Stevie shrugged, “Depends on which one you mean. Because the main one, I don’t know, but the other side ones, probably. You know Symone, she can’t deny a small intimate gathering of a hundred thousand plus people,” Stevie joked fondly. “Well the up and coming actress can’t miss her own after party!” Stevie said aghast at even the idea of such a thing. “My after plans aren’t set in stone, though. I can be swayed with the food options.”

Blue eyes twinkling, she said, “I’m feeling more inclined to see you get drunk and bust a move. No Quiet Lyla tonight, I see.” It was funny to think of Lyla being outgoing. Before, Stevie had always had to be the social one. She had spent most of their relationship explaining or apologizing or both for Lyla’s seemingly cold demeanor. It had been the bane of Symone’s existence in the beginning. Stevie remembered when the two girls first met, Symone hadn’t been able to understand for a minute why in the hell Stevie was with some “uppity classist bitch”, but that had been the tip of the iceberg now, after all this time.

Heading out the door, Stevie nodded. “Yeah. You, too. And for what it’s worth, I think you’re going to win - but, not to judge it, I’m proud of you. You’ve come a long way from being a barmaid,” she smiled before walking towards the theatre door.

#p: 007;;

[steviesings]

#( visage. )

[steviesings]

𝚒 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚔 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎.

𝘱𝘩𝘰𝘵𝘰 𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘥𝘪𝘵: 𝘰𝘥𝘸𝘺𝘦𝘳_𝘴𝘪𝘰9 𝘰𝘯 𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘮

#( muse. )

[steviesings]

@perrieedwards: me deciding what attitude i’m gonna give today…

#( visage. )

[steviesings]

i get mystified by how this city screams your name

#( my everything. )

[steviesings]

it’s peaceful

#( my everything. )

[steviesings]

likelyla‌:

It was hard to find the right words, or any words to say in that moment. Being caught between tears and desperation to make things somewhat better proved entirely too difficult. “No, no, I’m sorry. It’s fine, I’m okay,” Lyla said as she tossed her hair back behind her shoulders, hands wiping the tears from her cheeks. “Go ahead.” Her voice was a little hoarse, unsure of how to navigate the situation.

She got herself together while Stevie found a stall, taking the time to breath, fan her face, and wait for the puffiness of her cheeks to subside. When the blonde returned, Lyla was almost good to go. She remained at the sink, watching her ex-girlfriend ready herself to head back out into the theater. “Your song is beautiful, Stevie.” Brown eyes found their way to connect with Stevie’s blue ones, the lights of the room making them appear light. “I had no idea.”

Arms cross over her chest as she turns to face the blonde, “It caught me off guard.” Lyla let out a laugh then, thinking about how cosmic everything seemed to feel. “But seriously, it was perfect. Especially for the scene.”

They stood in silence for a moment or too, both of them equally deciding how to handle the encounter. Lyla’s eyes still watered a little bit, her body still shaken by the lyrics of Stevie’s song, it’s placement in her life and how the inspiration probably came from something them-related. “I know I was kind of a mess when you walked in, I still feel like one but, how are you? This has to be pretty big, right?” She waited, not wanting to push too much too soon. “The title song of the movie, that’ll help with the promotion of your tour?”

Admittance of the fact she’d heard Stevie’s latest album, that she knew she was headlining for the first time. They didn’t need to dive deep, Lyla didn’t ask to pry. She’d been so proud when she heard about all of it. The album was a streaming hit, the tour coming swiftly after the fact. She even planned to go to an LA show, though obviously that information wouldn’t be released at this very second in time. “I’m… I’m really happy for you,” the brunette releases with genuine affection, previous colder characteristics be damned. “You’ve worked so hard for all this and, I’m glad it’s all happening. For you especially.”

There was an unsureness that hung between them. The air cracked with the tension, and she felt her hair stand on end as she reemerged to the sinks, seeing Lyla there, her demeanor changed. She knew better than to ask, knew even more to not discuss it. Her whole life had been a mosaic of sidestepping the hard talks, ignoring the even harder answers, and this would be no different. She and Lyla hadn’t bullshitted one another with remaining friends, they weren’t the type. It had always been all or nothing, they were too intense to be anything else; too intense to fight that basic blip of chemistry, and friendship was pointless when all you wanted was more. Maybe all that had been why Stevie was good at her craft. When you spent your life bottling away your true, raw feelings, when you exposed them it would naturally be a thing that’d touch people. People heard the raw, exposed pain and desperation Stevie had spent an entire life time denying herself, and now, after all that, it’d brought her success. But at what cost? As she eyed Lyla in the mirror, she wasn’t so sure.

“Thank you,” she said, her voice barely a whisper. Swallowing, the blonde didn’t know what to say. She wished she could laugh, make a joke - hide the way she always did just before Lyla made her feel something, but Stevie was determined this time: she and Lyla were done. They were over, and it was time to move on. But she hated this bit; small talk, pleasantries, this wasn’t who they were. Nodding, though, as if accepting the new normal, she said, “I felt a bit of inspiration.” Vague, almost unfair, the scene was so Lyla and Stevie that it hurt to watch, and penning the song had been as natural as being a lefty; it was effortless, and it flowed from inside her until she’d gasped and cried, clinging to her guitar as she’d tried to compose herself.

Brushing off those memories, she forced a smile. “It will. The tour’s said to be huge. It’s six months of across the US before hitting the Euro leg - all stadium. It’s insane, truly. I didn’t expect the album to be -” She stopped, unsure of what to say. Lyla knew the album was inspired by her, Stevie wasn’t naive enough to think the vague wool had been pulled over her ex’s eyes, but still... She loved writing songs, loved her subject, but discussing them always made her feel uncomfortable.

Stevie turned to look Lyla head on, despite her dry throat, she refused to say this to her reflection. “You’re a really good actress, Lyla. I’m so proud of you.” Without thought or care, she’d tossed her arms around Lyla in a hug, then as quickly as it came, she pulled her arms back and faced the mirror and unnecessarily fluffed her pink-streaked hair - the signature look she’d had since she was eleven - and breathed deeply, smiling. “We should probably head in, yeah? Don’t want to keep the fans waiting,” she teased lightly, looking at Lyla. “I heard the supporting girl’s on the road to an oscar, just out the gate and everything!”

#p: 007;;