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She doesn’t believe in love at first sight. It’s too corny; she’s not a Disney bitch and she knows fully well there’s something like 7 billion people on the planet and what’s more she doesn’t know a single couple that looked at each other and ‘just knew’.
All she knows is some people are freakin’ hot, and others are not. And Sasha Velour, is not.
She’s all nervy and quiet but when she does talk all she does is complain.
“It’s too hot in here,”
“Can someone turn the music down?”
“This shirt is super uncomfortable,”
She’s the kind of person that’s into feminism but expects the man to pay for the meal, and Shea doesn’t like her. She also doesn’t pay her very much attention; she’s here for Gia and her friends, although she has met some of them before. She recognises Pearl, who she added on Snapchat last time they were down and she’s seen a couple of others before. She’s already said hi to Alexis and Kimora. She’s always at ease in these random house parties she lets Gia drag her along to, and this one is no exception.
She talks to the girl nicknamed ‘Peppermint’ who owns the house.
“It’s a neat place,” Shea tells her, accepting the bottle opener.
“Thanks girl,” Peppermint says with a grin, gesturing behind her, “Have you met my New York girls?”
“A few,” Shea admits “I come here so often Gia says I should just live here!”
“You totally should,”
“I’m looking for an apartment,” She admits, “I know some of the girls from other parties I get dragged to,”
“Oh here,” Pepper waves to two girls that approach them.
One has bright pink hair in perfectly shaped waves that make it look like a wig. She has a septum piercing which is far too large for her face and she’s wearing a short little pink dress together with fishnet stockings and heels so high Shea wonders if she’s even five foot naturally.
The other girl is wearing all black, in a long cut pencil skirt made of some kind of suede material she can’t remember the name of, and a black shirt done all the way up to her throat and tucked in at her tiny waist. She’s all skin and bones, and Shea can’t help but think who wears opera gloves to a house party? She’s got fluffy blonde hair and fixed to the top of her head is a felt black crown that Shea knows she’s made herself. Her face is pretty however; all soft and feminine with long lashes and eyebrows so bushy she’s tempted to call it a unibrow. At first glance she looks unkempt but Shea quickly realises she’s put a lot of effort into looking so effortless. She realises that the girl has drawn on freckles and bites her lip to stop herself from saying something.
Fuck, she thinks, I can’t decide which one looks more like a vegan.
“This is Aja and this is Sasha. Say hi to Shea, girls,”
“Hey,” Aja shouts over the music, going straight in for a hug before Shea even gets a chance to reply. She laughs and releases her, turning to Sasha who offers her a smile.
Her mouth is huge, Shea thinks as she offers her hand.
“Your majesty,” She jokes, nodding toward the crown and the other girl quirks up her eyebrows as if she’s offended.
Now they all sit on the sofa, playing shot roulette and getting to know each other. Shea sits next to Gia but hardly notices the girl as she is so engrossed in the game and is fast making friends with Aja and Alexis. Sasha sits on the sofa on the other side, sitting on the arm of the chair with her legs crossed gracefully, kitten heels making marks on the light blue pattern. Across from them Pearl and her friend Violet are sitting cross legged on the floor and although they’re supposed to be playing they are too drunk to stand, let alone spin the roulette.
Shea takes her turn, watching with horror as the ball rolls straight into the ‘0’. She grimaces as she picks up the milky looking shot and the other girls shout and jeer.
“What is it?” She asks with horror. Alexis shrugs.
“I think it’s some kind of alcoholic yoghurt?” Shea gags but Aja is already chanting her name and the others join and Shea is a sucker for peer pressure; she downs the foul tasting shot and can’t help but smirk with satisfaction at Sasha, who looks thoroughly horrified.
“I’m done,” She coughs out, getting up from the sofa to go to the kitchen and grab a drink of water and something to wash out the horrid taste. The kitchen is empty apart from her so she takes the opportunity to check snapchat, to send out her streaks and take a photo she can Instagram later. She’s had a lot to drink but she doesn’t feel any worse than tipsy, so she decides it’s high time she smoked something strong.
She takes her red solo cup filled with water and topped with ice out to the back garden where Kimora is just finishing a cigarette with two boys she’s never met.
“What’cha got there?” She slurs, looking into Shea’s drink. “Is that Vodka? You’re crazy Miss Thing,” One of the boys takes her by the arm and starts to tug her toward the house as he puts out her cigarette. Shea isn’t too drunk to play the mother and she pulls Kimora toward her.
“Hey,” She mumbled quietly, “Are you going upstairs with these guys?”
“Yeah-huh,”
“Both of them?”
“Yeah, I know right?” Kimora gives her such an exaggerated wink she laughs and shakes her head.
“Be careful, bitch,” She chuckles, letting the girl disappear into the kitchen.
She pulls out her tin and seizes a joint from inside, wrinkling her nose up at the pungent smell the drug releases. She hunts through her bag for her Zippo, realising with an anguished sigh that she leant it to a boy a few hours ago and she’ll probably never see it again.
“Need a light?” A low voice asks and she raises her head to see that uptight Sasha approaching her, holding out a cheap neon disposable lighter. Shea thanks her as she takes it and when she turns she notices Sasha eyeing up the chair next to her, as if she’s unsure whether she should stay or not. Shea may not like her but she’s a good actress and she doesn’t want to write the girl off entirely without giving her a chance, so she pulls out the chair and mumbles “go ahead,”.
“Thanks,” Sasha says quietly, pulling out a joint of her own. “Same idea huh?”
“Lord knows I need it,” Shea says, lighting hers up and inhaling it right into her lungs. She leans across and flicks the plastic shit until it lights, letting Sasha lean forward to light hers.
As she does Shea notices the girl’s exquisite makeup. Yes she was wearing heavy lashes but she did nothing but accentuate her own beauty, Shea can tell. She notices that Sasha struggles to make eye contact and has a habit of looking down sadly when she’s thinking, as if she’s always thinking of something sad.
“Same here,” Sasha says, “I really do hate parties,”
Always complaining, Shea thinks but she bites.
“Then why are you here?” Sasha takes a drag while she considers her response.
“I don’t know, it’s hard to explain. I guess I’m an introvert living inside an extrovert,”
“Yeah?” Shea doesn’t really get it- surely you’re either an introvert or an extrovert?- but she doesn’t want to interrupt, after all she’s still making her mind up about Sasha.
“Yeah,” The blonde continues, “I’ve got a pretty out-there personality and I’m really opinionated; you’ve probably noticed that haven’t you?” She looks to Shea for a response, continuing when Shea merely shrugs, “And every now and then I… I guess I like to kid myself that I’m this super-social party chick. So I dress up all wild and me, but when I get there and get drunk I remember that I hate people and I hate parties and I’m actually more of a weed-and-a-movie kind of girl,”
Shea decides to give her a chance; she doesn’t know what it’s like to not want to be at a party but there’s something about Sasha that is strong yet vulnerable all at the same time, and she can’t help but be interested.
“A city-girl introvert?” She says in disbelief, taking another drag.
“I’m not really a city girl,” Sasha says with a shy smile. “I’ve spent a lot of time in Moscow,”
“What that’s like… Sweden?”
“Russia,”
“Russia, right. That’s pretty fucking awesome,”
“Yeah,” Sasha smiles, “But the city’s pretty cool too. There’s so much diversity, and it’s so accepting too. It’s really hard to be a vegan in Russia,”
“I knew it,” Shea whispered.
“Huh?”
“Oh, nothing,”
Sasha looks down and notices that she’s been talking for so long that her joint has gone out, but when she holds her hand out for the lighter Shea lights it herself instead, forcing Sasha to lean forward.
“Sorry,” Sasha chuckles. “I just never shut up!” She ends with a nervous laugh, but Shea doesn’t comment.
“You’re pretty quiet, Miss Enigma,”
“I’m a listener,” Shea says with a shrug. Alright, she’s not exactly quiet but she wants to know more about Sasha.
“Where are you from?”
“Chicago,” Shea answers, taking a sip of her drink.
“Nice, I’ve never been there,”
“You should visit,” Sasha smiles at that and Shea watches her, still trying to make her mind up.
“Yeah, maybe I will,”
There’s a quiet in the air while the girls both kick back and smoke, listening to the sounds of the party raging in the house before them and thinking.
Shea is thinking about Sasha. She’s wondering if the complaining is just her being angry at herself for choosing a party over staying home to relax. If she’s dressed like she’s going to the opera because her dress sense is quirky and different, and she’s confident about expressing it until she’s struck with an anxious thought and suddenly she’s worried and panicked. She’s wondering, though she’s not really sure why, if Sasha is single, and if she swings both ways.
Sasha is thinking about Shea. She’s wondering how it is someone is happy to just sit back and listen instead of just waiting for their turn to speak. Sasha is a chatterbox; she doesn’t talk very much around people she doesn’t know but once she starts talking she just can’t stop, facts from her head spilling out of her mouth before she has a chance to even filter them and before she can blink everyone knows her life story. She’s wondering, though she’s not really sure why, if Shea is single, and if she swings both ways.
Their silence is suddenly interrupted by a loud crash in the kitchen and Shea stands up precautiously, putting out the rest of her joint and placing her remaining half back into the tin and into her handbag, rising from the table as Sasha hurries to join her.
“I’m sure it’s just some boy that’s too drunk and fallen over the step in the hallway,” She says to Sasha with a smile, “I’ll be right back,”
She goes indoors and Sasha goes to join her, before deciding to stay. If she stays Shea will come back out and she can get her to talk; find out more about life in Chicago and the mysterious girl whom she’s finding less and less annoying. She puts away her joint and takes back her lighter, placing both in the glittery clutch she brought. She reaches over and tastes Shea’s drink, happily drinking it once she discovers it’s just water.
The drugs are kicking in; Sasha feels calm and mellow, slow thanks to the alcohol flowing through her veins but happy nonetheless. She’s quite content to just sit in silence and wait; after all she’s a deep thinker and can spend any amount of time just running things over in her brain. She’s disturbed, however, by a boy stumbling through the back door and into the garden.
“Well hey,” He says when he notices her, straightening up and smirking in a way that makes Sasha’s skin crawl.
“Hi,” She replies quietly, wondering about the line between unfriendly and rude. He walks over to her, however, pulling out the chair Shea recently vacated but pulling it in a lot closer.
“Jeez, did I sit on your imaginary friend or something?” The boy laughs and Sasha realises she must have been glaring at the chair.
“What? No,” She says with a small laugh.
“What’s your name, gorgeous?”
She’s got a really bad feeling about this, but her brain’s not reacting fast enough for her mouth so she tells him.
“Sasha Velour? Well that’s a pretty name, for a pretty girl huh?” He’s edging closer, she realises when he’s so close to her he’s pretty much touching her. She pulls in and sits up uncomfortably, thanking him for the compliment even as she wants to tell him to fuck off. She wonders vaguely why she doesn’t.
Deciding on a happy medium she gets up to leave him, muttering something about going to find her friend. He runs after her and grabs her arm as she approaches the door and pulls her in close to him.
“Hey don’t go,” He says with a sickening smile as he backs her up against the wall of the house. Sasha looks down slowly at where his hands are encircling her waist and she knows she’s frowning.
“What are you-”
Her words are halted when he presses his mouth to hers and prizes open her lips with his tongue, his hands roaming up her body as she struggles to react. She twists her head to the side to avoid the kiss when her brain finally catches up but he raises one hand and tangles it in her hair to hold her firmly in place. She makes a noise and tries to pull away from him, finally succeeding.
“No stop,” She hisses, bile in her stomach and her head swimming uncomfortably.
“A pretty girl like you shouldn’t be out here all alone,” He replies, leaning in for another kiss and reaching the hand that isn’t gripping her head up to grope her. She tries to pull away but he’s pressed her against the wall with his body and she’s just about to knee him in the balls when suddenly he’s not there anymore.
Vaguely, she’s aware that someone has pulled him backwards and punched him in the face and she wishes it was her, but she feels dizzy and sick. The boy runs off into the house and Sasha finds herself looking into the concerned eyes of Shea.
“Bitch I said are you okay?”
“Wha- uh yeah,” She murmurs, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand and watching it come away covered in smudged lipstick. She frowns at her hand before realising Shea is still talking to her.
“Did that bastard do anything to you? I swear I’ll ri-”
“No, no I‘m fine. Thanks Shea, you know that was really gallant,”
“Gallant?” She struggles to suppress her smirk. “What century is this? Who still says gallant?” Sasha fixes her with a frown.
“I do,”
Shea brings the water over and orders her to drink.
“God, you’re a lightweight aren’t you Sasha,” She’s too far gone to deny it so Sasha just nods, drinking the water.
"I like the way you say my name," She says quietly before realising. She bites her lip then drinks the water, trying desperately to change the subject.
“Fuck,” She exclaims, “That guy was super creepy! Did you punch him?”
“Sure did,” Shea replaces the drink on the table and returns to Sasha, resting one hand on the wall and watching her with concern.
“I guess that makes you my knight in shining armour,”
“Sure does, bitch,” Shea says with a grin. “I’m your hero,”
“How can I ever repay you?”
Sasha wasn’t sure when the atmosphere shifted but it certainly had. Shea was standing so close to her she could smell her wildflower perfume and hairspray, and as the smile leaves her face she looks up slowly, staring into Shea’s eyes.
“Thanks,” She whispers, “Really,”
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Shea asks and her concern is so touching Sasha feels moved. She nods slowly, her eyes dropping to Shea’s full, plump lips.
“You didn’t tell me about yourself,” She says quietly. Shea shrugs.
“There’s not much to tell. I’m a socialite from Chicago, I like dogs and bright colours…”
“You’re very brave,” Sasha adds. Shea’s eyes sparkle as she looks down at her.
“You think so?” Sasha nods.
“And pretty,” She whispers.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. And hot,”
She hardly finishes her sentence before they were kissing; Sasha wasn’t sure who initiated the kiss but when Shea places the hand that isn't resting on the wall into Sasha’s unruly hair she finds she doesn’t care. Shea’s kiss is passionate and intense, and a moan tears itself from Sasha’s throat as Shea allows her body to roll forward and press against hers. Shea releases her, just to attach her lips to Sasha’s neck, kissing and sucking as she makes her way down the column of her throat.
“Fuck,” Sasha hisses, her hands tangling themselves in Shea’s hair, raising her head to kiss her again. She pulls away eventually, peppering small kisses onto the girl’s jawline, talking into her soft skin.
“How about we blow this joint-”
“-Is that a marijuana reference?-”
“And go back to my place?”
She spins them around with surprising strength and speed. She presses Shea up against the wall and kisses the hinge of her jaw, rolling her hips against the other girls and revelling in Shea’s responding gasp.
“It’s not far,” She says between kisses. “We can walk,”
“I don’t even know if I’ll make it that far,” Shea admits as Sasha drops to her décolletage and begins sucking on the swell of her breasts. “I might end up fucking you in some dark alley along the way,”
Sasha straightens up and shrugs.
“I’m good with that, too,”
They make excuses to Gia and Aja and say goodbye to Peppermint and while they both talk about feeling a bit sick and wanting to get some food they’re obviously fooling no one as Alexis is waggling her eyebrows suggestively and Sasha’s blush is so obvious everyone notices.
They close the door behind them and Shea takes her hand as they walk brusquely down the street.
“I’m Shea Coulee, by the way,” She says with a smile. Sasha grins back.
“Did you make that rhyme on purpose? I’m Sasha Velour,”
Velour, she thinks, looking at Sasha’s skirt, that’s what it’s called.