Chapter Text
"This is silly," Stevie said, crossing her arms and glaring at Nancy. "Carol wasn't out past curfew and also, why do we even need a curfew? We're adults, Nancy. Not children."
It was a solid point and she wasn't willing to back down to Ms. Pantsuit express.
Nancy was lucky she pulled Steve in to talk to separately because Carol would have been a pain in the ass. Heather wouldn't have been much better.
"Stevie," Nancy said, pinching the bridge of her nose in annoyance. "I've never called it a curfew. You guys have deadlines to meet. You can't be out at a club when the bus needs to leave or when you have an interview the next day. How is that hard to understand?"
Stevie wasn't sure why she was fighting this so hard. Maybe she was just offended on Carol's behalf.
"What would you like me to do?" She asked, spreading her hands out sarcastically in the air. "Is she gonna go into timeout? Because I can tell you that won't go well."
Nancy sighed heavily, sliding her glasses back on and scrolling through her tablet like Stevie wasn't sitting across from her. Talking just like Nancy had wanted.
"I was hoping you might talk to her," Nancy said, still scrolling. "I already tried and she's convinced that Tommy is the love of her life, Stevie. Look at this."
She slid the tablet toward Stevie, a zoomed in picture spanning the screen.
Carol, drunkenly hanging off some guy in a club. A guy with light grey hair and-
"Okay," Stevie said, pushing the tablet away with a wince. "The photos aren't great. I get it. But she was just trying to unwind. Tommy is a dick, I agree. But are we not allowed to just have fun?"
Stevie kind of already the answer to that.
"You have images to-" Stevie scoffed loudly. "To uphold. You knew that going into this. You signed contracts and everything. I can't protect Carol from the world, Stevie."
She stared at Nancy, chewing on her lip and thinking. She was right, of course. They'd all been young when they were put together and signed. But still. They had known.
"I'll talk to her," Stevie sighed, feeling worn out again. "Is that good enough? I can't promise she'll behave."
It was a terrible way to speak about her friend.
But Nancy looked relieved at least.
"We also need to talk about-" Oh god. Not this. "Getting you a new assistant. Griffin wasn't a uh..."
Stevie rolled her eyes heavily.
"You can go ahead and admit that you know I slept with Griffin," Stevie said lightly, not regretting it in the slightest. "And Heather did too."
It was true. It'd caused a pretty big riff between the two of them for a few months.
"I'd appreciate if you didn't do that again," Nancy said calmly, as if Stevie did it all the time. She didn't. Griffin was just.....there. And he was nice to her. So she slept with him. Easy peasy. "So I'm looking for a female PA for you guys."
Stevie frowned at Nancy, somehow feeling offended.
"I'm not going to fuck- seriously? Really? You think I'll just sleep with whoever you hire if they're male? I've given you zero reason to think that," Stevie said hotly, glaring at Nancy again. Nancy gave her a pointed look right back. "I've given you only one, very brief reason to think that."
Nancy snorted, trying to hold back a laugh. Ha. Yeah, Stevie was funny.
"Yeah? Was it any good?" Nancy asked, reverting back to her regular, friendly persona before realizing what she'd done. "Don't answer that. I'm not condoning it. Please don't sleep with another PA."
Stevie felt a smile stretch her own face.
"If they're female that won't be a problem," She said with a shrug. "You know I'm as straight as they come."
Nancy gave her a funny look that Stevie didn't quite understand.
"I'm holding interviews this weekend," Nancy said with all the air of a haggard housewife. "And no, you don't get to be there."
Stevie went to protest but Nancy held up a hand.
"No. Because you'll chose some twenty year old with no experience," Nancy said. "And then you'll end up partying with her. We're not doing that."
Stevie narrowed her eyes but sat back in her chair. Fine. She didn't care if Nancy mail ordered her someone's mom to take care of her.
It wasn't like Stevie or Carol or Heather had ever listened before. Why would they start now?
—
Being in a girl band was fun.
It was also hell.
Stevie wasn't even sure which side she leaned on most days. Touring and making music, that part was joyful and happy. Getting caught by the paps or being harassed by male fans? Not as fun.
But she was used to this tumultuous lifestyle. For at least five years now.
Stevie was only seventeen when she met Heather and Carol through a startup record company by the name of Argenta Records.
They were young and barely talented, barely able to do much beyond sing. Stevie knew she wasn't chosen for her voice at the time. No, it was probably a more nefarious reason.
But she could cope with that. She had a great life. Great fans.
Choreo days were a bitch but she still loved the work out.
She'd even grown a lot closer to Heather and Carol over the last few years. Sure, they fought a lot. Did fucked up things to each other. But at least Stevie knew her coworkers. At least she knew what their ups and downs looked like.
She'd fought with both of them more times than she could count.
Stevie liked her life and the pattern of it. She didn't exactly love when things got thrown off or when other people decided to throw a wrench in her plans.
So what if her and the girls liked to party? They were young! They'd spent a good portion of their youth in studios. They were allowed to cut loose and have fun every now and again.
Did they take it too far sometimes? Maybe.
Stevie had gotten a severe talking to the last time a pap had gotten up skirt photos of her and like, how was that even her fucking fault? She didn't know that there would be a gross pervert around and she'd been feeling frisky, out on a date with the last guy (before Griffin) she'd tried to entertain.
They had to threaten the pap in question with legal action for him to delete the frankly offensive photos of Stevie.
And she hadn't even been all that upset, really. Why did she have to wear panties if she didn't want to? She was allowed to be promiscuous and go on dates and-
Okay, yeah. Maybe it was a poor decision in hindsight. She had learned from her actions and wouldn't be doing it again. Maybe. She might not do it again.
Unless the right man came along, that is.
—
"Let's do it again from the top!" Marquez called out loudly, clapping his palms together when Carol wouldn't stop flirting with one of the dancers. "Hey, Carol! Miss Charlotte! Charlatan!"
Stevie snorted at the slew of nicknames from her view in the back, hiding it well when Marquez turned a beady eye toward her. Always ready to snap, just on the precipice of madness from the girls he had to teach.
Stevie always struggled to keep a straight face during their sessions but....
Wouldn't want father to catch her laughing.
"What?" Carol asked, voice gaining that whiny quality that made everyone in the room want to poke their eyes out instantly. Heather looked twitchy, which was never a good sign. "We've done it like a dozen times. I'm sweaty and my feet hurt."
Marquez held a hand to his chest in mock offense and Stevie bit her lip to hide another smile. She could agree, she kind of wanted to keel over but-
"And you'll do it a dozen more until you learn to stop stepping on Alan's toes," He said sternly, knowing damn well he'd never actually make them go through a routine so many times. He wasn't that mean. "One more time from the top, princesses. And then I promise I'll release you."
Stevie laughed and let the male dancer next to her put his arm back around her waist. At least he was carrying most of the weight for this song. Maybe it would even get easier once they left for tour.
For now, she felt a little like dying every time they stepped foot in the practice studio. But at least she was in good shape. Singing was hard while dancing, no matter the amount of backtrack.
—
Stevie gulped down water, sweat pouring down her stomach as she waited for Carol to finish trying to woo one of their dancers. As usual.
She was like that, always trying to sleep with members of their team. It hadn't worked out last time, of course. No, Heather and Stevie had swooped in there before she could even think about it. She was very bitter about the whole ordeal.
She'd probably be less bitter if she knew how bad Griffin was in bed.
Carol finally finished up with her flirtation and made her way toward Stevie and Heather, eyebrows raised as she held up her phone. Indicating that she had gotten his number.
Of course.
"Looking real beefy there, S." She greeted, as if Stevie cared what Carol of all people thought of her physique.
"I have abs, Carol. What do you have? A dancers number and daddy issues?" Stevie asked, earning a cackling laugh from Heather.
Carom glared at Stevie but it didn't last very long, clearly she was way too fucking excited about this guy. Again, pretty normal for Carol.
"I do have a dancers number," She said, much louder now that the guy had finally left. "And he's really sweet, thank you."
Heather dipped down to pick up her gym bag, rolling her eyes the entire way.
"Yeah, you always say that," She sighed. "Until he fucks someone else behind your back."
Carol looked offended again, pocketing her phone with a frown.
"He doesn't seem like he'd be like that," Right. Stevie privately agreed with Heather but she also liked keeping the peace between the three of them. "I'm serious! He's so nice. He volunteers for an animal shelter and I told him how much I love animals-"
"You? An animal lover?" Stevie interjected, too befuddled to hide it anymore. "Carol you hate animals. I've only ever seen you pet one dog. Ever."
Heather was nodding sagely, probably just to annoy Carol more.
"I think that maybe I just haven't met the right animals," She said, so deadly serious that Stevie had to rub a weary hand over her face. Jesus Christ. "And he could introduce me to some. He has a pet anaconda."
Heather snorted.
"Are you sure he was talking about his pet snake and not his-"
"I just think jumping in the deep end with a snake is probably a bad idea," Stevie said, speaking louder so Carol couldn't disagree. "Imagine how it feels, C. Like imagine how slimy it is. Think about it very hard-"
"Yeah, okay!" Carol snapped, rolling her eyes. "Maybe I'll just sleep with him?"
"Oh that'll make tour fun," Heather snarked, walking toward the door. "C'mon, I wanna have a drink before Nancy puts us on an alcohol ban."
Carol sighed dramatically, following after Heather.
"Your place, Stevie?" She asked, eyes a little too bright.
Fuck.
"Yeah, I guess so." Stevie said, always the first to give in.
—
The little party for just the three of them quickly turned into not just the three of them.
Which was exactly why Stevie had been so wary of having Heather and Carol over. They always invited men. Because of course they did, why not?
This time it felt like hoards of people.
Which, okay. At least Stevie's place wasn't a permanent residence but she might just end up getting kicked out before tour and she really didn't want to have to stay in a hotel just because Heather and Carol couldn't calm down for one weekend.
One. Weekend.
"Oh my god," Stevie sighed, holding out a hand for a wayward trashed Carol. She was in heels, of course. Fallen down right near Stevie's bathroom. This apartment was stupid big and stupid expensive. Which was exactly why Stevie was being used. "You're way too drunk."
Carol snorted as she stood, managing to not spill her drink.
There were too many people in Stevie's apartment already and the stress of that would be enough alone to-
"You gotta loosen up," Carol slurred, wrapping a manicured hand around Stevie's bicep and pulling her toward the kitchen with all the strength of a fucking football player. "I wanna take a shot."
"I don't know if-"
But Carol pulled Stevie into the fray in her own kitchen (thankfully the invitees were being some amount of respectful in there) and grabbed for her hand, holding it high with a garbled, "Shots!"
Stevie was always kind of awful about giving in.
Stevie accidentally stumbled into a blonde girl, nearly knocking her over as Carol pulled her along.
"Watch it," She snapped, face turned into a bitchy scowl. Another woman stood next to her, leaned against Stevie's bar. Wearing a leather jacket that looked way too hot for an apartment full of people.
Stevie opened her mouth to snark back but Carol was too quick, pushing Stevie onto the bar and grabbing the tequila as a group of men cheered again. Stevie felt mildly hassled but she usually gave in when Carol was like this.
She held up her salt and lime, the tequila in her other hand.
"Body shots!" She cheered, to another round of obnoxious jeering. Stevie rolled her eyes fondly and sighed as she leaned to the edge of the counter. This was common, Carol loved doing this. "Assume the position, S."
Stevie let out another sigh, popping the buttons to her top one by one. Letting out a sharp laugh when Carol wolf whistled like an idiot.
And then she popped the lime wedge into Stevie's mouth seconds later, like a bitter smile. Before leaning in and licking over the crease of her cleavage, so grossly wet that Stevie starting giggling and nearly dropped the lime.
She heard a soft snort among the men around her and looked up to see the two women from before watching them. One with a sneer and the other with a blank face. The sneering woman looked away quickly, clearly still pissed off for some reason. Oh well, she could literally go anywhere else.
Carol was between Stevie's legs. One hand on a thigh, the other reaching for the salt. She shook it over Stevie's cleavage and pulled back, taking the shot someone offered her.
Stevie had never made such odd eye contact with someone in her life as the leather jacket woman stared her down.
Carol threw back her shot, leaned down to lick the salt off of Stevie and then dove in for the lime.
But Stevie couldn't close her eyes as Carol kissed her through the bitter taste of citrus.
She could only focus on the woman staring at her, holding a beer. Sipping on it and crossing one ripped jean leg over the other.
Contemplative.
Stevie wasn't known for good decisions. So when Carol pulled back to toss the lime, Stevie tugged her back in and planted one on her. Just like they always did at parties. Heather too. It didn't mean much to any of them, just something fun to do.
But Stevie wanted-
She wasn't sure what she wanted.
Carol laughed into the kiss, reaching up to grab a handful of boob. Stevie couldn't really take that seriously, breaking away to laugh hysterically. She wasn't even tipsy and somehow it was like she felt dizzy for zero reason.
The leather jacket woman had the smallest smile on her face.
Stevie looked away, grabbing for the tequila. Fuck it. She could have a drink.
—
Fuck.
This apartment was like, so hard to navigate once Stevie had too many shots.
She wasn't wasted but she....she wasn't far off from being wasted, really. Not wasted enough to make out with any of the dancers Carol and Heather invited. Thank god.
But she was kind of tired. Stevie hated that she had to stay up to see the end of the party, just to make sure everyone left.
Although....maybe- maybe a little nap wouldn't be so bad. Maybe she would just pop upstairs and take a quick one and come back down sort of sober and kick everyone out.
She could just kick everyone out.
But then they'd bitch at her and she hated that. Stevie wasn't good with criticism. Historically speaking.
She had to pull herself away from the fray, stumbling toward the short stack of stairs leading upstairs. Always carefully locked with a key when guests came over in droves. "Guests" was a strong word.
Stevie stepped onto the first step, feeling slightly wobbly in her socks. Her shoes had gone missing an hour or so ago.
In retrospect, she should have just stepped outside to cool off. Maybe sat on the kitchen floor and contemplated life.
Her stairs had always been a little too dark and she was too easily distracted to notice that someone was sitting at the very top of them. Stevie let out a loud yelp, drowned out by music as she stumbled and fell forward. She tried to grab for the banister but-
"Oh fuck," Someone cursed, right as Stevie tipped forward and landed in their lap.
Her lap.
Stevie splayed out across several stairs, her knee planting painfully onto one. Enough to make her groan as she went face first into ripped jeans, arms akimbo. No help at all as her head spun dramatically. Her elbow connecting violently with the stairs.
"Holy shit, are you okay?" Someone asked from above, a smokey sounding voice that scratched at Stevie's brain. She needed to move, she did.
"Mhmbfibagon," She mumbled incoherently instead, mouth rubbing against one denim clad thigh.
"Oookay," The woman drew out, one ringed hand sweeping at Stevie's hair. "Hey there, Uhh. You're kind of in my lap. Can you get up?"
Rude.
Couldn't she see Stevie was trying her best?
She pushed her hands palm down onto the steps by the other woman's legs. Shaking with the effort to lift herself. Until she could finally peer up and-
"Leather jacket," Stevie mumbled, watching as the woman frowned openly. She had big brown eyes like an owl. "You uh....where'd it go?"
The woman frowned even more, right before her brows shot up.
She wasn't wearing the jacket from before, instead sitting on Stevie's staircase in a tank top with cut off sleeves.
She had a lot of tattoos.
"I got hot," She said slowly, like that explained it well enough to Stevie's drunken brain. "Is this your place?"
Stevie was still hovering, her arms kind of shaky as she strained her neck to look at the leather jacket woman.
"It is," She nodded. "Who invited you?"
The woman hesitated, eyes squinting. Before they widened in alarm.
"You're bleeding," She said, reaching down to touch Stevie's arm. Which finally got her to sit up, legs sliding underneath her in a sideways sit. Her hands were cold on Stevie's skin, a welcome temperature against the heat found there. "Jesus. I think you might have cut your arm on the fall somehow."
Which. That made no sense.
"Did I?" Stevie asked, trying to look down at her own arm and failing spectacularly as her vision swam. Her elbow did kind of hurt. "Oh. Owwie."
"Owwie?" The leather jacket lady mumbled softly, almost disbelievingly before letting go of Stevie's arm. "Okay. Let's get you up, come on."
"Nnnh," Stevie groaned as the woman stood up abruptly. Stevie looked up at her, marveling at her height and lack of heels. She had boots on. "I like your boots."
The woman sighed heavily and climbed up a step. She held a hand out for Stevie, grinning when she actually took it with a groan.
"You got any first aid stuff upstairs, drunky?" She asked, prompting Stevie to frown as she pulled herself up on coltish legs. Rude.
"I do," Stevie answered, blinking hard twice at her dry eyes. "Fuck, I am drunk. You're right. It's upstairs, just- follow me."
She really didn't have to follow Stevie at all.
But she did anyway, still holding her hand as Stevie squeezed past her on the stairs. She smelled spicy like mens cologne and Stevie had to shake her head to get rid of the scent.
She reached into the tight pocket of her jeans and pulled out the key, hands unsteady as she tried to slide it into the lock.
Leather jacket lady was close. A little too close due to the stairs. A step down but still a heavy presence behind Stevie. Who kept missing the lock.
"Fucking-" She cursed, breaking out in frustration.
"Here," The woman muttered, reaching around Stevie. Pressing to her back. A line of heat, sealed tight to her as the women grabbed for Stevie's key and slid it home. She smelled-
Good. She smelled good.
"Thank you," Stevie muttered with a dry throat as the door clicked open finally. She twisted the knob and opened it, rushing through seconds later. Not for any reason, she was just- her elbow hurt and she was tired and she wanted that nap.
The door clicked behind them as Stevie fumbled for the light switch, giggling when her socked feet slid over the smooth floor.
"Whoa there," The woman said, once again coming to Stevie's rescue. Holding her by the hips and steadying her in the entrance to the upper loft. "You okay?"
"Mhmm," Stevie murmured, drunkenly leaning back into the woman. It wasn't- she wasn't trying to- she just smelled like a really good cologne that reminded Stevie of a hookup she'd once had. That was all. "Thank you, Prince Charming."
The woman didn't say anything in response so Stevie pulled away, sluggishly making her way to the bathroom upstairs. Throwing the door open and hopping right onto her counter. She needed to sit to try to dispel the dizzy feeling.
"Where's your kit?" The woman asked, setting her jacket down next to Stevie. Stevie hasn't even noticed she'd been carrying it.
Speaking of, what the fuck was this woman's name. Maybe Stevie should just-
"I'm Stevie," She slurred out, frowning when the woman gave her an unimpressed look. "It's in the cabinet right there."
She walked to the cabinet on the left side wall of the big bathroom and popped it open.
"I'm Eddie," She said in response, grabbing the kit and making her back over. "And you kind of cut your arm pretty good. Not sure how you managed to do that."
"Isn't that a mans name?" Stevie asked rudely, prompting a laugh from Eddie as she came to stand between Stevie's legs. She opened the kit and sat it next to them, picking out some swabs and alcohol.
"Technically yes," Eddie said, looking wholly unoffended. "But I think it suits me. Lift your arm up."
It kind of did.
Stevie listened without thought, teeth sinking into her lip as Eddie concentrated on cleaning the blood from her wound. It only stung a bit but Stevie was mostly distracted by Eddie this close up.
She had crazy hair, wild and curly and kind of big. No makeup but long lashes. Pink lips and tired looking eyes.
"What happened to the girl who was with you? Did she leave?" Stevie asked, once again abiding by her no filter drunken rule book. Ask whatever you like, you probably won't remember by tomorrow.
Eddie tossed the swab into the trash and reached for antibiotic ointment.
"Yeah, she left," Eddie said, sounding kind of sad. Stevie frowned and let her apply the ointment, her heart kicking up a notch. "Why do you ask?"
There was something leading to her question, like maybe she wanted to know if Stevie had seen the other girl because-
A lightbulb went off in her head.
"Oh," Stevie said quietly, understandingly. "Was she your girlfriend?"
Eddie gave Stevie a sharp look with a raised brow, recapping the ointment and putting it away.
"She is my girlfriend," Eddie corrected. "She uh...she invited me. She's friends with one of the dancers out there? This isn't....really my scene, no offense."
Stevie smiled serenely back at her. Eddie picked out a bandaid from the box and peeled it back. She was so lanky, so covered in tattoos that Stevie kind of wanted to ask about them.
Kind of wanted to touch them too.
"None taken," Stevie said. "I didn't want to have a party anyway. Spent all day at the practice studio and my thighs hurt. Wanted to sleep."
Eddie smoothed the ends of the bandaid over and let Stevie drop her arm finally. She gave Stevie an intense look for just a moment, snapping the box shut again. Stepping back from Stevie a moment later.
"Then maybe you should kick everyone out," Eddie said shrugging easily. Like it was so simple.
"Can't do that," Stevie pouted, still sitting on the counter. Eddie was too far away now. "They'll whine tomorrow."
Eddie hovered a foot from Stevie. And she just- she kind of wanted to-
Stevie reached out and snagged a hand into Eddie's shirt, pulling her forward and closer between Stevie's spread thighs.
"What are you doing?" Eddie asked tensely, hands coming to rest on Stevie's thighs. So close. She glanced down at Stevie's lips. Lids hooded as her teeth sunk into her own bottom lip.
"I dunno," Stevie said softly, too dizzy to really think. She felt hot, like her skin was made of lava and Eddie's hands were leeching cold through her jeans. "Maybe I wanted to thank you."
You're drunk. This is a bad fucking idea. You don't even-
"I don't think-"
Stevie leaned in and kissed Eddie anyway, pressing their lips together quick and easy.
Eddie let out a strangled noise, one hand tightening on Stevie's thigh. Blunt nails digging in as she gripped Stevie by the hair with her other hand, pulling her further into the kiss. Tongue pushing past Stevie's lips and curling.
Stevie moaned into it, scrabbling desperately to get closer. Holy fuck. She was- it was so different but not at all. Softer skin. Attentive bites to her lip. Different than Heather or Carol. More.
Until Eddie yanked herself back with a gasp, swiping at her mouth with the back of her hand. Eyes wild and shocked.
Why did she look so disgusted?
Was it that bad?
"Uhh....holy fuck, I shouldn't have-" Wait, what? Why shouldn't they have- Stevie frowned and pulled her own hands back into her lap. "I have a girlfriend, oh god. And we did get into it but like, I'm not a cheater and-"
"Think you're past all that," Stevie snorted unkindly, feeling unfairly rejected. They didn't even know each other, why did she feel so fucked up? "It's chill. Just pretend it didn't happen."
Like Stevie would do tomorrow. She was well on her way to pretending it didn't happen right now.
"But it did happen," Eddie said, clearly panicking a little. Stevie wanted to feel bad for her but the alcohol coursing through her body made it difficult. "Oh my god."
"It's literally fine," Stevie sighed, crossing her arms petulantly. Was she the one in the wrong here? Yeah, probably. Did she care? Not really. "Tell her a drunk straight girl kissed you. Or don't, I don't really care."
Eddie stopped mid panic to look at Stevie with flabbergasted eyes.
"Seriously?" She asked, raising her brows. What? What was so surprising? "You're straight?"
Oh. That.
Stevie shrugged, despite the sinking she felt in her stomach.
"Yeah, I like kissing girls when I'm drunk. Why do you care so much?" She snarked back, lips growing thin. Rejection, rejection.
"Are you- are you pouting?" Eddie asked incredulously. "Really? I have a girlfriend-"
For fucks sake.
"Yeah, you said that," Stevie snapped, swallowing roughly. She was drunk and she wanted to sleep now. Fuck everyone. "You should go find her and fucking- I don't know. Kiss her. Take her home and do whatever it is two girls do-"
Eddie let out a strangled laugh.
"Oh god, didn't figure you'd be a homophobe-"
"I'm not," Stevie hissed, feeling sicker and sicker by the second. "Maybe I just don't like you. Maybe your face annoys me."
Another shocked look, like Eddie couldn't believe her ears.
"I- I do not have to deal with this right now," Eddie said in confusion, looking mystified. "I don't have to deal with a closet case."
What the actual fuck?
That wasn't even true. Eddie had no clue what she was even talking about.
"Fuck you," Stevie snapped, eyes starting to water embarrassingly. "You should leave. Thanks for helping me."
Eddie frowned back at her, looking torn. She sighed and grabbed her jacket, sliding it back on fast and jerky.
"Do- do you want me to tell everyone to leave?" Eddie asked quietly. Like they didn't just meet tonight. Like they were friends.
Stevie shrugged, always so stubborn.
Eddie sighed again, turning and taking her leave.
Stevie refused to watch her walk out, unsure how a perfect stranger had managed to upset her so badly.
It was stupid. It didn't matter. Stevie was just confused because of all the alcohol and hitting her elbow and it hurt and she was dizzy and she kissed Carol and Heather a lot. And that was fine. It was okay. It didn't mean anything.
She didn't get hot from it.
It didn't matter. Fuck Eddie.
Stevie would never even see her again.
—
Stevie liked to pretend that she could handle rejection.
She also liked to pretend that she wasn't deeply insecure.
She wasn't exactly a fucking flower, physically speaking. Like. She'd had more than one guy comment on her foot size or how long her legs were or her height or literally anything else.
She learned a long time ago not to look her own name up online. She wouldn't find anything good. Sure, a lot of fans were really nice. But the negativity was too much, even from people who meant well.
It didn't help that Stevie was sort of pre-destined for abs and biceps. She'd never had to try very hard to be fit, so any amount of working out meant that her gains were pretty high.
She probably didn't have many years left of good metabolism. So she was trying her best to keep up with it for now. Eating good like Heather and Carol did, despite probably needing more calories. Exercising drastically after drunken nights. Using a scale for her food.
Stevie was used to it all.
"Are you psychotic?" Heather asked from the couch, squinting in pain as she watched Stevie run on her treadmill. One of those nice pull out ones that she could hide easily when anyone came over, just so they wouldn't drunkenly try to run in her living room.
Stevie didn't slow down, gulping down water and flipping Heather off. She groaned in response, holding her stomach.
"You should try to get up and move," Stevie said, not even really meaning it. She just wanted to piss Heather off a little. "Maybe have something to eat. I've got some hummus in the fridge. Homemade and everything."
Stevie felt oddly satisfied by the green hue to Heather's face.
"You're so gross," She complained right back to Stevie. "Is this why your ass is so big? Because you can't stop working out for five minutes?"
Stevie was saved from replying by Carol's arrival. Dragging a blanket behind her, half wrapped around her shoulders.
"No. Her ass is so big because she's the only person who likes squats," Carol said drily, falling onto the couch with a dramatic huff. "She would die if she didn't work out for a week."
Probably.
Stevie was at war with the part of her that loved being active and the part of her that didn't want to be so insecure.
She did like squats though, that was true.
"Speaking of," Stevie said, finally slowing down to a walk. "Either of you wanna go rock climbing with me next week? I'm thinking about booking a personal session."
Heather gagged dramatically and Carol shoved at her shoulder in disgust.
"What is wrong with you?" Carol asked. "You're being weird today."
"She's always weird," Heather cut in. Offensively.
Stevie glared at both of them.
"I'm not being weird," I just did something stupid last night and I'm not over it yet. And I don't get why it's bothering me. "I'm being normal. It's not my fault you two got wasted last night. Which by the way, we have a meeting today."
Heather buried her face into a pillow, groaning loud bur muffled.
"For what?" Carol whined, a little too high pitched for Stevie's brain to comprehend. Even after plenty of water and medicine.
Stevie stepped out her treadmill, falling into a chair opposite of the couch.
"New PA," Stevie said, legs feeling a lot like jello as she massaged one of her thighs. "Nancy threatened to hire a girl the last time I talked to her. Who knows if she's gonna stick to that."
Heather looked a little more alert. There's been a tentative truce between them for months now, after the Griffin debacle. Stevie hadn't even liked that him that much. But the loneliness was always a little rough and she couldn't let Heather win.
As if the poor guy was a competition.
Stevie stretched her leg out, massaging her knee and waiting for a response.
"I mean, we can veto whoever she chooses," Carol said tentatively. "Right? We can do that?"
Stevie wanted to laugh. Right.
"I guess we'll see," She lied, knowing damn well that when Nancy had her mind set, there was no going back.
—
Laughter.
The sound of laughter greeted them as they walked into Nancy's office, the sterile air hitting them face first. It was a tiny place, just for Nance to be able to deal with all her clients in what she called a "more professional setting."
But Velvet was her most important, best behaved client. Clients.
Whatever.
They were far more important than any of the others. Label mates that the girls has never properly gotten along with.
Anyway, laughter.
"What the...?" Heather mumbled, deferring to stand behind Stevie. As usual. Her and Carol were so bad about making Stevie deal with literally everything.
She twisted the door handle and crept in, meeting the back of a head of black hair and Nancy's smiling face.
"Oh, girls!" She called with too much excitement as she stood and rounded her desk. "Come in, I want you to meet your new PA."
Stevie felt her stomach drop to the floor as the woman in the chair stood and turned toward them.
No.
Nope.
Her face must have paled considerably, her eyes widening dramatically before she could tamp down on her own alarm.
Oh fuck. This was bad. This was really bad.
Eddie stared back at her, face impassive and blank. Too blank. Like she didn't even recognize Stevie at all.
Huh.
She even looked different. She was wearing what looked like slacks, black and sleek. And a black henley over those, sleeves pushed up to reveal a few tattoos. Smart, sleek oxfords to replace the boots this time.
Her hair even looked less frizzy.
Something about it unsettled Stevie, especially the lack of rings.
And the fact that Eddie seemed to be pretending she didn't exist.
"I'm Eddie," She said with a friendly smile, holding her hand out for Carol first. Carol was just as impassive, just as inquisitive as usual. Heather looked more hesitant. "It's nice to finally meet you."
How did Eddie get this job? Was this her usual gig? Had she known about Stevie before the party? Had she lied about her invite?
It was suspicious. It rubbed Stevie the wrong way.
"Nice to meet you too," Stevie said politely, smile stoic as she shook Eddie's hand. Gripping tight to see if she would react. She didn't, minus the small twitch of one eye. "I'm Stevie. This is Heather and this is Carol. But you probably already knew that."
The implication was clear and Eddie frowned outright as she dropped Stevie's hand. She covered it quickly though, reverting back to professional kindness.
"Eddie here will be starting as soon as possible," Nancy said brightly. "Just had to get her caught up on some of the duties. All the boring stuff."
Setting up meetings, ordering food, making accommodations for the group. Dealing with Carol and Heather always wanting to party. Making sure they didn't try to sneak men onto the tour bus. Making sure they didn't have a foursome again because it was awkward for at least a week prior that one time.
Yeah. Anyone would decided to work for them typically had a hard job.
But at least Stevie was mostly well behaved.
"I hope they don't give you too much trouble," Nancy joked, with a sharp edge.
Carol let out a cackle, her laugh just as terrible as usual.
"We're so well behaved, Nance," She said, giggling as she leaned into Heather. She definitely didn't look like the picture of innocence. She looked at Eddie with a grin. "It's this one you've got to worry about."
Carol pointed toward Stevie, only directing Eddie's attention back to her. Those intense eyes that appeared cruelly impassive focused on her once again.
Fuck her. Fuck Eddie.
"I can assure you I'm very good," Stevie said, laying on the charm a bit too much. It didn't come across as sincere. More bratty. Nancy sent her a look from behind Eddie, as if in warning. God. Whatever. "I get up to way less these days-"
"Not true," Heather cut in unhelpfully. "You should ask about the up skirt pap photos or the time Stevie almost got caught giving head in that one night club. What was it called?"
"Filth? Filth!" Carol chanted, too proud of herself for Stevie to even turn on her. In public. She would later, for all the cheek burning embarrassment this was giving her currently.
And why? Why did she care if Eddie found out she was a bit of a slut?
It was none of her fucking business what Stevie got up to.
"I'm sure you'll be perfectly fine," Eddie said, addressing the whole group but staring headstrong toward Stevie.
Fuck this, fuck literally all of this.
"Well, we have a choreo session to get to," Stevie said with a stiff smile. "Drove separately, so. Kinda gotta make sure we get there on time."
"Oh! Why doesn't Eddie come along?" Carol asked excitedly, gaining a twitch of the eye from Stevie. It didn't go unnoticed by Eddie. "She'll have to eventually, you know."
True. That was probably true.
"Yeah, it's a long session today," Stevie said wryly. "Maybe she can get us lunch."
It was a dig and a weak one at that. But Eddie shrugged like it didn't bother her at all. Maybe it didn't.
"Sure, I'd love to," She said. "Just let me finish up here and I'll get the address from Nancy."
Nancy nodded behind Eddie, already ready to shuffle the girls out. What an awkward fucking meeting. And they hadn't even sat down.
—
Stevie technically was supposed to immediately make her way over to the studio. Just like Heather and Carol.
And she did. But she also decided to park near the back, waiting in the lot for Eddie to arrive without even knowing what exactly her car looked like.
Stevie didn't expect a motorcycle of all things.
She ignored the swirl in her gut as Eddie pulled up next to her, helmet on. Thankfully. It would be painfully stupid to ride without a helmet.
Stevie stood with her arms crossed, back to her passenger side door. Waiting. Contemplative as Eddie shut her engine off and kicked the stand down. Hands rising to pull the helmet off. She had her jacket back on, the same one from the party.
"Not the most practical ride for the job," Stevie noted. "How will you carry my dry cleaning on that thing?"
Eddie snorted, shaking her hair out and stepping off her bike.
"Shockingly I do own a car," She said with a wry twist of her painfully pink lips. Nope. Not thinking about that. "But thank you for the concern. I can promise all your tiaras will come back to you perfectly steam cleaned."
Stevie bristled at that, lips growing thin as she watched Eddie deposit her helmet.
"Do you think it's wise to make fun of me when you just got this job?" Stevie asked, nose wrinkling as Eddie pulled out a pack of cigarettes. Gross. How had she not noticed a smoke taste before?
"Mm, well. If you want to get me fired," She placed a cig between her lips, mumbling as she patted her pockets for a lighter. "I'd say go ahead. Done this before, you know. I can find another job."
It was such a weird line of work for someone like Eddie. If Stevie wasn't so pissed off, she might ask about it.
Instead...
"And do you usually stalk future clients?" Stevie asked, arms squeezing around herself as she stared Eddie down.
Eddie sucked on her cigarette, smiling wide in in amusement.
"You think I stalked you before this? I mean, I looked at your Instagram. Does that count?" She asked sarcastically, only fueling Stevie's annoyance. "Millions of followers, huh? Must really get to your head."
Sarcasm. Fine. Whatever, Stevie could deal with that.
"I was talking about the party. There's no way you had no clue who we were and just came to a random party because your girlfriend-" Stevie almost choked on the word. "Invited you."
Eddie let out a sharp laugh, ashing her cig a second later.
"Don't take this the wrong way," Oh, Stevie definitely would. "But I don't listen to your type of music. Despite your apparent fame, not everyone in the world knows who you are. Shocking, I know. Do you need to sit down to process that?"
Stevie felt her face heat considerably, forcing herself to calm. She'd never been good with being talked down to. She'd snap back and get bitchy sometimes but it mostly just made her feel bad.
"That isn't what I meant," She said tensely. "I meant it's a weird coincidence and you're- well, you're. You know. And we. We did, uh."
She was stuttering like an idiot, confidence waning as Eddie stared her down and smoked.
"We did what? I don't know what you're talking about," Eddie said, feigning indifference.
They needed to go inside. They didn't have long.
"Seriously?" Stevie asked, watching as Eddie leaned down to scrub her cig against ground. Picking it right back up after. How eco friendly of her. "You- we kissed. We did. Stop acting like it didn't-"
"Ah, nope," Eddie said easily, casually. "You kissed me. Drunkenly. That's not my problem."
Embarrassment, heavy and gross.
Stevie swallowed roughly and hugged herself again.
"Yeah well, I do that to everyone. Don't be flattered," Stevie said, albeit weakly this time. She didn't like feeling small like this. And especially over stupid shit that didn't even matter. She didn't really know Eddie, there was no need for all of this.
"I'm not," Eddie said smoothly. Coldly. "Just don't make it a habit. I have a girlfriend who I love very much."
Stevie couldn't help snapping back.
"Yeah? Did you tell her you put your tongue down my throat?" Stevie asked, voice callous again. She just couldn't stop herself.
Eddie gave Stevie an intense look, mouth growing thin.
"My relationship isn't any of your business," She said slowly. Plainly. "I don't know what crisis you're going through but you barely know me. I can be your little lackey, I can do my job. I don't have to give you details about my personal life."
Stevie kept wanting to fight, kept wanting to claw more out of Eddie. It was insane how annoyed she was, how badly humiliated she felt without being able to pinpoint why.
So she stepped forward and Eddie didn't step back. She was just a little bit taller. Lanky to Stevie's curvy.
Fine. Stevie could just- she could just do what she always did. She could act the same she'd ever acted with any hookup who was too rude for their own good.
Stevie looked at Eddie then, injecting as much innocence into her stance as possible.
"I know what you taste like," Stevie said, batting her eyelashes and pouting.
Just swinging at a hornets nest.
But of course, Eddie didn't even react. She just smiled at Stevie, all calm and collected. Like an asshole.
"No, you really don't," She said, stepping back from Stevie and shrugging her shoulders. "I'm headed inside. You should probably come in if you don't want to miss your session. I heard it's pretty intense."
Stevie watched her walk away, cheeks too hot. She was honestly thrown off for once. Which sucked.
No, you really don't.
What did that even mean?
I know what you taste like. No, you don't.
It hit Stevie as she started to drag her feet toward the studio.
What exactly she could taste of Eddie. Where exactly she'd never tasted on another woman. She'd kissed plenty of girls, mostly while drunk.
But she'd never done that.
And she didn't want to. Nope.
Stevie desperately hoped the studio was cool enough to calm her down.
—
Marquez was in a mood today, Stevie discovered. Probably due to her showing up late.
But hey, it was mostly aimed at Carol.
Which wasn't unusual at all.
"Carol, I swear to god," He said, snapping his fingers in front of her face. "Stop frowning while you dance. I know it sucks. I know it hurts because your hungover-"
"I am not hungover-"
"But you have to actually try," He sighed loudly, frustration bleeding out. Stevie stood to the side of the room, restretching her hamstrings as Marquez berated Carol for the tenth time today. At least she took it in stride, only furthering the bimbo allegations. That was okay, Carol usually didn't mind those.
Stevie was avoiding looking toward the far corner of the room. Where Eddie sat watching them. Her chin leaned into her hand.
Stevie wanted her to fuck off. Maybe leave. Or play on her phone. Anything but gaze at Stevie like that.
It was off putting as fuck.
It was also distracting as fuck as Stevie bent in half, stretching forward. Highly aware of the spandex shorts she'd chosen to wear today.
Stevie glanced into the mirror as she stretched, seeing not just Eddie's eyes on her.
But also the dancer next to Stevie. Huh.
Just blatantly staring at her ass.
Now, Stevie would typically never flirt with any of the dancers. Been there, done that. Not worth all the drama.
But....
Hm. Maybe. He was kind of cute, if you convinced him to shave the goatee. It was a bit much. But that wasn't going to deter Stevie as Marquez made Carol go through her solo again.
Stevie smiled over at the dancer, leaning against the bar behind her.
"You come here often?" She asked, the hint of a joke. Eddie was watching, leaning contemplatively back in her chair. Stevie focused back on the dancer, adrenaline spiking as he smiled back at her.
"Oh, you know," He said, voice low. "It's a frequent stop of mine. Don't typically get to talk to you though."
Oh no. She hadn't thought this far ahead. He was actually flirting back.
"I'm sorry for that," She said bashfully, reaching up to subtly unzip her shirt a little. It was a long sleeve, sweat wicking for her studio days. It did nothing to hide her breasts. "I can get kind of shy."
She could swear that Eddie snorted from across the room. Surely she couldn't hear them.
"That's alright, I can hold a conversation just fine even if it's one sided," Which, hey. Actually kind of smooth. But. Goatee. "I've got lots of talents."
There it was.
"What does that mean?" Stevie asked, feigning innocence just to appear dumb. She looked past the dancer and saw Eddie sitting there with her jaw all clenched. Okay. "I only dance and sing. I'm sure you have so many talents though, wanna show me them?"
The guy looked stunned that he'd even gotten this far with Stevie.
She wouldn't be going on a date with him. No, that would be silly. But she could fuck him, maybe. It could be fun, right?
"Sure," He said, eyebrows still raised in surprise. "Just- just let me give you my number."
"Thank you," Stevie said graciously, glancing up to see that Eddie had already looked away.
Stevie's face heated again, the same humiliation resurfacing.
Fuck Eddie.
—
They took a break for lunch, a common occurrence on longer days.
But this time, they didn't have to leave the premises in order to get lunch.
Stevie didn't really want to interact with Eddie but she made her way over anyway, slumping onto the floor next to Carol as she chatted away with Eddie. The betrayal.
"-usually have a few different bunks, so you'll probably get one," She said rapidly, that hyperactive tone shining through as she came down from the adrenaline of dancing for too long. And they still had a little bit to go. Eddie glanced at Stevie as she lay down on her stomach, legs kicking up in the air behind her. "Have you ever slept on a tour bus?"
God. Stevie didn't even want to think about that. Maybe she really could get Eddie fired before then. Maybe. Griffin hadn't been on their bus, thankfully. It didn't mean that they hadn't tried to sneak him on a couple of times, only making the fighting between Heather and Stevie worse.
Nancy wanted them to have a PA with them as much as possible. Just so she wasn't getting constant calls from a confused Carol who had mixed up a radio call-in interview. Again.
"I haven't slept on one, no," She said, quirking a brow. "Been on a few. Back in the day."
What did that even mean?
Heather hummed and narrowed her eyes.
"How old are you?" She asked suspiciously, like that even mattered. Stevie scrolled through her phone, feeling even sillier when Eddie didn't look at her. It was like she was a fucking ghost.
"I'm 26," Eddie said with a laugh. "Not quite ancient."
That seemed to relax Heather quite a bit. Stevie wondered why Nancy would pick someone as young as Eddie and why she'd think Eddie wouldn't want to party with them.
Might as well just ask.
"And do you like...go to clubs? Are you gonna be a wet blanket all tour?" Stevie asked rudely, unable to stop herself.
Carol shot her a look but Steve stared impassively at Eddie.
Once again, she looked wholly unaffected.
"I'm actually five years sober," Eddie said wryly. Fuck. "So I tend to not go to night clubs. They're not very tempting."
I can be tempting.
Stevie shook her head, her face burning again.
"We promise we would never do that to you," Heather said empathetically. Like a traitor, actually. Stevie agreed that they wouldn't, sure. But Heather switching up so suddenly was....Stevie didn't love it. "You don't have to go with us."
Eddie laughed louder this time, biting her lip.
"I was told to limit your time spent in clubs," Eddie admitted. "Maybe we can come to an agreement."
Heather laughed right back and Stevie felt a bit like she was chewing sand.
It was always like this.
Everyone paid attention to Stevie for five minutes because she had big boobs and a big butt and a kind of pretty face. And then they saw Heather or Carol and it was like she didn't exist anymore.
But Eddie was a girl. A woman.
So why the fuck did it even matter?
Stevie didn't want to deal with this.
"I've gotta get something from my car," She said abruptly, pushing herself up. "I don't care what you get me for lunch. No meat, no bread. No dressing."
She didn't bother grabbing for her bag as she made her way to the door, right before she heard Carol say....
"Yeah, she just eats weird."
God. Shut up, Carol. Whatever.
—
Stevie sat halfway in her car, the door propped open as she scrolled through raya again.
Stupid app.
She wasn't going to really use it. Maybe.
She shouldn't, anyway. The last time she tried to fuck around with a guy on raya, he'd turned out to be a directors nepo baby. He had a toenail fetish. Not even the full foot, just painted toenails. Which was fine or whatever but it was all he wanted to talk about and like-
She needed to date someone.
Like actually fully date a guy. Just to occupy her time. Have someone to come home to. Have someone to fuck her into her bed so she could sleep a little better.
She needed a distraction. From life in general.
Would it actually help? Probably not. Did she need to start therapy again to wash away the tiny voice of her mother in her head? Probably.
"Oh he looks like a catch," Eddie said, leaning over Stevie's phone and staring at the screen. Stevie jumped violently in surprise, smacking her head against the doorframe. "Oh shit, are you okay?"
Motherfucker.
Eddie stood there with one bag in her hand, eyes wider then usual. She reached for Stevie before she could be stopped, brushing her hair aside to examine the top of her scalp.
"I'm sweaty still-" Stevie tried to warn her weakly. It really was throbbing.
"I don't care about that," Eddie snorted softly, nimble fingers smoothing over Stevie's hair. Parting it to see if she'd actually hurt her. "Gotta stop injuring yourself in my presence."
Right.
"It's been your fault both times," Stevie said, too tired to argue much. The dancing had worn her out apparently. She just wanted- she didn't know what she wanted. She wanted to not feel so out of sorts, so off kilter. "Stop trying to kill me."
Eddie pulled her hand away with a laugh.
"I've got your food," She said softly, holding the bag up. "You're suspiciously boring lunch of steamed veggies."
Stevie grabbed for the bag, only mildly annoyed. She hated comments about her food.
"Yeah well, those veggies keep me looking like this," She said. A little too honest. "They're good for me."
Eddie was just fucking looking at her, something so different in her gaze. Stevie didn't like it. She felt exposed, psychoanalyzed.
"I'm sure you'd look just the same with something extra added to it," Eddie said softly. "But who am to judge?"
Stevie held the bag close in her lap, fingers worrying over the paper.
"You're lanky and- and tall," Stevie said, looking down. She felt sad. And not for any real reason. Just sad and upset and utterly embarrassed. "You wouldn't get it."
Eddie shrugged lightly.
"Sure," She agreed, proving Stevie right. Why the fuck were they even having this conversation after having just met? They barely knew each other. "But you'd be kind of mentally obtuse to not see that you're basically one of those....Grecian goddess statues."
Stevie felt her stomach squirm, borderline violently. No one had ever said anything like that to her. No one had ever even-
"Thank you," She said quietly. "Thank you, Eddie."
There was a pause. It wasn't quite awkward but it was close. Like Eddie had realized what she had said.
"No problem," She responded. "I'm sorry this has been so abrupt and- and probably stressful for you."
Stevie felt bad again. Embarrassed by the way she had acted all day.
For reasons she didn't really want to admit.
"It's alright," Stevie said, looking up at Eddie. Silhouetted by the sun, shading Stevie in. She might as well. "I'm really sorry for acting the way I have. And for the other stuff. I'm sorry for that too. Will you forgive me?"
Stevie felt her heart beat even harder as Eddie looked down at her. She was barely moving, one hand braced on the top of Stevie's car. Too close.
Was it how Stevie asked? Was she upset?
"Of course I forgive you," Eddie said, flooding Stevie with instant relief that she couldn't quite explain. Then Eddie cleared her throat and straightened up again. "Bring your food inside. It's cooler in there and you won't have to sit alone."
It wasn't a question. Stevie didn't want it to be. She shut her car off instantly, already climbing back out.
—
Stevie actually liked Eddie's voice.
She was a talker, that was for sure. Once Carol got her going, they both seemed to talk a whole bunch. Which was good. Stevie could be just the same but she was better at hiding it.
Her mother was always on her about it, growing up. She was so unladylike, she rambled too much. No man was ever going to love a girl who snorted when she laughed or always hit over a .300 in softball.
Stevie wasn't teeny tiny like Carol. She didn't have a tinkling laugh like Heather. She didn't have Carol's blinding smile or her ditzy personality that men ate up. She could pretend, she liked to sometimes. It was kind of fun, just for the act. Gave her a boost of confidence that she'd never admit she needed.
Stevie contemplated her thoughts, poking at her carrots with little want to eat them. She needed to. She knew that. It wasn't good for her to not eat her entire meal because they were usually pretty bare bones.
She was just scared of gaining weight and getting in trouble.
And Heather and Carol were always so concerned for her. They were little bitches most of the time but they all really did care about each other.
"Hey, Stevie?" Heather asked, leaning around Carol to thump her on the shoulder. "We were just telling Eddie about the tour bus rules. She isn't convinced that we're allowed to have guests."
Stevie looked up, setting her food down.
Eddie was still sat in her chair. Higher above them. Thighs spread as she leaned back and laughed at what Heather said. One hand tapped against her leg, fingernails clean except for the tiniest edge of black around one. Professional.
"Are you allowed to have guests on the tour bus?" Eddie asked, giving Stevie a look so stern that it made her throat go dry. Then she smiled a moment later. She knew damn well they weren't.
"No," Stevie found herself saying, earning a betrayed gasp from the other two girls. Whatever. They'd be fine. "No because it can cause problems and it isn't considerate of everybody else on the bus."
Jesus. Why did she sound like an after school special? Why was Eddie looking at her like that? Why was her fucking heart racing and why did the girls not even notice? How?
"Thank you, Stevie." Eddie said graciously, unknowingly sinking a knife right into Stevie. What the fuck was that? Why did she have to say it like that? "For telling the truth."
Are you gonna pat me on the head now? Give me a sticker?
Stevie ducked her head down and picked her food back up as Heather set to playfully bitching about the tour bus rule.
What the fuck was Stevie supposed to do with that? She'd started the day pissed off with Eddie for zero reason. And now she couldn't even look her in the eye. Now she could only glance at Eddie's hands and her thighs and her stupid shoes.
What the hell was happening to her?
—
Stevie didn't want to do anything with Carol and Heather later.
The good part about such a long day of rehearsal was that everyone was too sore and worn out to do much.
They'd left with Eddie's number. She didn't have much to do yet, not with their bare minimum schedules. She had to schedule a massage appointment for Heather and a chiro for Stevie. She would be around for every dance rehearsal. Watching and sitting in the corner and staring at Stevie.
Stevie, who had stripped down as soon as she got home. Walking around naked in her lonely apartment, avoiding reflective surfaces because she still felt weird.
She still felt weird. Even after her shower, even after climbing under her covers. Way too early and without dinner. She should eat but she didn't really want to move.
Would it be ridiculous to text Eddie?
Would it be silly to just....
Hey, do you think I'm pretty? Do you only like blonde girls? Can you explain why I care so much what you think?
Stevie was maybe having a crisis. She just wasn't sure what type of crisis.
She could get up and run. She could book an appointment to get lighter highlights. Maybe start wearing more black.
She was pent up and half horny, half confused.
So she picked up her phone and- and had a thought. What if she just....
Stevie: I'm sorry for acting up today
There. Another apology. Because Eddie had looked at her a certain way after she'd been brave enough to apologize, right? And no one looked at Stevie like that after she'd been a dick for too long. They usually ignored her, let her go off on her own to calm down.
Eddie: you already apologized
Stevie frowned at her phone, blankets twisting around her legs.
She had.
But she wanted-
Stevie: I wanted to apologize again. So you know I mean it
She felt too hot, so she kicked off her blanket. She stared at her ceiling and waited for the phone to buzz again.
Eddie: I know you mean it but I'm proud of you for saying it again
Stevie's thighs squeezed together, something igniting in her that she probably hadn't ever felt. In her entire life so far.
I'm proud of you.
How often did she even get to hear that?
Stevie let her hand wander, smooth down her chest. Ghosting past her nipples, over the planes of her stomach. Lower and lower, right until-
She gasped wetly, fumbling for her phone.
Stevie: just want to make someone proud, anyone
Fuck. Don't send that, don't say that. You're giving yourself away. You barely know Eddie. She could suspect-
Fuck it. Sent.
And Stevie's brain started to wander more. You don't even know she tastes like, not really. You've never even eaten pussy before.
You've never done that. How would you even know if you'd like it?
Stevie rubbed her clit, wetter than she had any right to be. More turned on than she'd been in ages. Meddled with such strong confusion that she felt kind of sick from it.
Eddie: you have plenty of time to do that
Eddie: im sure lots of people are proud of you
No, no. They aren't. Not like this, not for just apologizing. Not for being good and being surprising and for actually behaving for once and not causing issues and-
Stevie's eyes prickled, her hand not pausing. She was going too fast, she needed to pause. She needed to slow down.
Stevie: just tell me when I disappoint you
Fuck.
This was fucked up. This was wrong. Eddie had no clue what she was doing, what she was up to.
So why couldn't she stop? Was she that much of a sick fuck? Thinking about a girl and getting off to it and-
Eddie: I can do that
Eddie: for you
Stevie felt her insides clench, her thighs clamping shut around her still moving hand. She couldn't do it anymore, couldn't hold on after everything that happened today. The cologne, the slacks, the way Eddie kept staring at her. Did she like what she saw? Was she disgusted by Stevie?
She came harder than strictly necessary, gasping loudly as her body rode the wave. As she clenched up around nothing, hips lifting and falling in the next second.
Fuck.
This was bad. This was actually so bad.
Stevie: thank you, I appreciate it
What a dumb response. What a stupid thing to say.