#: /‏‏‎ ♯ verse: 04. … i'm so navy blue. '

[curseplay]

@mercywoman sent: who do you think we were to each other in our past lives ? [ ACCEPTING. ]

❝ do you believe in that kind of stuff ? ❞ they ask. she doesn't seem like the type, but maybe they're just assuming things based on her whole black cat shtick. or, this is some kinda test for them. rest assured, paris knows they'll likely sound dumb no matter how they answer.

they glance upward, eyes straying from her. their fingers tangle with the fresh hotel bedsheets as an indicator of just how hard the gears are turning in their head. still, a demeanor of nonchalance settles, and they simply shrug.

❝ i dunno. beats me, ❞ eyes flutter shut, and they stretch their arms overhead. ❝ maybe the same as we are now, but you like, met me instead of wasting time with that douche, ❞

#bundledmisery #she CLEARLY has shit 2 say. #: /‏‏‎ ♯ answer. … something you still seek. ' #: /‏‏‎ ♯ verse: 04. … i'm so navy blue. '

[curseplay]

@shivcomplex gets a starter.

they tell lauren and andie that they can't stay, they have a headache. the relentless thumping of the club bass is, however, the least of paris' concern. they hurry across the city to the address they've so skillfully hidden in the recesses of their notes app after deleting shiv's initial text. hands in her pockets, they try to look nonchalant, too cool for school . . . practicing a smolder in the elevator before arriving at their destination.

yes, one could say paris is wealthy now, but siobhan roy is rich. so rich that the luxury of this place is overwhelming in the way people assume the large crowds they play for are. she's so enraptured by a chaise that looks like it costs more than their apartment that they barely hear shiv enter the room. she turns on her heel a little too late, stumbling slightly before flashing a grin.

❝ what's up ? ❞ they try to resist being a little shit, but it doesn't work. paris cocks their head to the side slightly. ❝ does your boyfriend know i'm here ? ❞

#shivcomplex #at long last.......... ur starter...... #paris is WAYYYY to excited 2 be wrecking homes like this #: /‏‏‎ ♯ verse: 04. … i'm so navy blue. '

[curseplay]

@eulogier sent . . . from roman: do you want me to kill [ tom ] ? [ ACCEPTING. ]

❝ what, you're a hitman now ? didn't think you'd need the extra cash, ❞ though her gut reaction is to drench the conversation in sarcasm, [ this is roman she's talking to, after all, ] it only takes a moment for her to tilt her head from side to side as if she's weighing her options. as if this is a conversation that's going to actually go somewhere. hell, she could be so productive if she didn't spend so much of her time thinking about shiv and that weasel.

there's little doubt in her mind that each roy is capable of murder. roman is the wildcard of the bunch, though. he's small. he's got like, feral cat energy. paris can see the headline now . . . something along the lines of: TOM WAMBSGANS, DEAD OF RABIES. and then she can just slip right in.

paris sighs so deeply it almost makes her feel lightheaded. then, she shrugs far too casual a shrug for that of an ever - tortured homewrecker. ❝ — i mean, were you already planning on it ? 'cause i'd look the other way if you did, dude, ❞

#eulogier #you know youve hit rock bottom when your confidant is ROME #: /‏‏‎ ♯ answer. … something you still seek. ' #: /‏‏‎ ♯ verse: 04. … i'm so navy blue. '

[curseplay]

@birdrule sent: wish i could see you play. [ ACCEPTING. ]

❝ who's to say you can't ? ❞ SILK's show in town has come and gone, yes, but their guitarist isn't above pulling a few future strings for a pretty girl. in fact, that's to be expected of paris. whether that's a positive or negative reflection of her character is up for very public, tabloid - centric debate. she sits up in her seat a little, eyes sparkling even more than they were upon recognition earlier in the evening. ❝ i can hook you up with tickets for our next stop. no charge, of course. they give me a couple to hand out as like . . . a pleasantry, ❞ and it's not like she has family to bring. or anyone else. both the people she'd invite are onstage with her already.

❝ what do you say, huh ? ❞ paris beams, gesturing flippantly at the packed club that surrounds them. she's given the other a fair amount of cash already to keep her from other patrons. ❝ blow this place off for just one night ? i promise it'll be worth it. yeah, i'm biased, but we put on a pretty insane show, ❞

#birdrule #paris feeling the fantasy rn FR #: /‏‏‎ ♯ answer. … something you still seek. ' #: /‏‏‎ ♯ verse: 04. … i'm so navy blue. '

[curseplay]

@shivcomplex said : we can't keep doing this.

she blinks, still leant against her pillow . . . still tired from the this in question. eyes then move up and down, scanning shiv as she stands on her side of the bed, already freshening up instead of taking a moment to just cool it and relax. ❝ okay then, ❞ they shrug. ❝ we'll stop doing this, ❞

as clued in by her nonchalance, paris only agrees because she's pretty sure shiv'll be calling her up again in no time. she's positive, actually. they've been on this carousel for a very long time. if it hadn't come to a screeching halt upon tom placing a ring on her finger, they sincerely doubt it's going to slow down now. to further cement how unbothered she is, paris takes the following silence as an opportunity to start fiddling with her bedhead.

something else remains lodged in the back of her throat. something more antagonistic. have fun doing this with tom instead. she swallows it back, feeling less than combative at the moment.

❝ i know you're giving me an exasperated shiv face right now, but i still remember what you looked like fifteen minutes ago, so . . . ❞

#shivcomplex #sorry shiv. she thinks ur funny.......... #: /‏‏‎ ♯ answer. … something you still seek. ' #: /‏‏‎ ♯ verse: 04. … i'm so navy blue. '

[curseplay]

@deatheless sent: i heard a lot of rumors about you back then.

they'd crossed paths once before their re - introduction a few months ago at the start of SILK's second tour. it feels like forever ago . . . a time period defined by poorly lit venues and emotions running in every direction possible. they had just finished a show and were lurking in the wings to sap up the last of the applause. andie had said something earlier about their childhood best friend being in attendance. she was a musician too. when paris first laid eyes on mina [ their arm around whitney at the time, ], they were transfixed for a good five seconds. and then years passed.

paris spent those years ricocheting between whitney and girls saddled with the impossible task of making them forget about whitney. instead of finding their way home again, they wound up a pretty frequent topic of conversation on the tmz frontpage and the like. looking for love in all the wrong headlines.

❝ oh yeah ? ❞ they say knowingly. it's not a surprise to hear anymore. no, the surprise lies in whether or not said rumors are believed. paris glances at her from where they're fixing themselves a plate of green - room snacks, a small smile on their face. ❝ bet that made you wonder what the hell kind of company andie was keeping. between lauren and i, ❞

there's no real use in fighting their reputation anymore. that's more so kennedy's job now. no, all they can do is be themselves. and as of late, they've really taken a liking to mina.

they can only hope she feels the same. that she's not too wary of who they may or may not be.

paris breaks eye contact to make sure the contents of their plate are safely contained within it. then, they walk over to the couch, sitting on the arm beside her and offering the snacks to her first. ❝ — some of it's true, some of it isn't. i dunno what you heard, but a lot doesn't usually mean good. ❞ a pause, so they can loudly crunch a pretzel stick. ❝ what do you think ? i mean, now that you kinda know me, were they right ? ❞

#deatheless #SAVE ME EARLY PARISMINA...... SAVE ME #: /‏‏‎ ♯ answer. … something you still seek. ' #: /‏‏‎ ♯ verse: 04. … i'm so navy blue. '

[curseplay]

@shivcomplex sent: that's my favorite way to be an ally. you just say you're doing something, and then you don't do any of those things. [ ACCEPTING. ]

❝ is that like, your family motto ? passed down from generation to generation ? ❞ tone is decipherably bitter as paris crosses the room with her jacket in her hand. she stares at it for a moment, as if deciding whether or not to put it back on, before tossing it across a padded chair. ❝ — classy, shiv. ❞

she says as if she knows anything about classy. even with SILK's steadily growing success, paris still feels small in shiv's expansive apartments and luxurious hotel rooms. it's weird having a platform. it's weird having any level of success after begging shiv to help her achieve it. she feels like, after all that hard work, she should be doing something helpful . . . with so many people looking to her. she should get out of here and make a grand re - entry at the gala she ditched.

that must be one of the main differences between them. paris had to fight for status. moreso than shiv, at least.

but it's not an irreconcilable difference. not on paris' end. and maybe that [ or just associating with her, ] makes her a bad person, but she can't help it. she's a moth to the other's flaming red hair.

paris sighs, flopping down unceremoniously on the same chair where her coat rests. from there, she shrugs. ❝ so like, what's the deal ? you got a thousand dollar wine hiding back there ? ❞

#shivcomplex #me going absolutely cuckoo bananas over them AGAIN..... #: /‏‏‎ ♯ answer. … something you still seek. ' #: /‏‏‎ ♯ verse: 04. … i'm so navy blue. '

[curseplay]

@behe4dings sent: you haven't written me or called. [ ACCEPTING. ]

she can admit now that she was disproportionately angry at him when she left. chad refusing to abandon his entire life at the drop of a hat for her was, in rationality, not the stinging rejection she took it as. though, if paris could go back in time, she still would've stormed out of that hospital room. if she hadn't, it's probable she never would've escaped.

still, out of everything she threw away, chad was undoubtedly the loss that hit the hardest. it was a new, weird kind of grief. and it kept her awake in the backseat of the truck for more nights than she can count.

❝ i . . . i. you're right, i haven't, ❞ the wave of excitement she's been riding since learning he was in the audience crashes when he says that. her shoulders sag slightly, heavy with the weight of embarrassment. of regret. ❝ — but i really wanted to, chad. like, all the time i did, i was just . . . a big coward about it, ❞

it's amazing that he's here tonight. it's amazing that he even bothered to follow SILK after the sour note she left them on. paris would be lying if she said she hadn't mulled over the scenario of him randomly seeing her in some NME article or tiktok video one day, hair shorter, muscles bigger, looking so different from the best friend he once knew so well. she wonders if that hurt. she wonders if she can still call him best friend.

yes, she would've still stormed out of that hospital room, but if she could go back in time and change something, she'd reach out. a text message sent from the kitchen of her latest diner job in illinois, a garbled call from a payphone at a rest stop in nevada.

god, they've missed him so much. ❝ i drafted so many shitty text message apologies, ❞ they say, looking to the left of him so they don't have to meet his eyes. ❝ but like, the thought of having any connection to home anymore . . . the thought of you being mad at me . . . ❞

#behe4dings #i could KILL u for sending this btw. thank u #: /‏‏‎ ♯ answer. … something you still seek. ' #: /‏‏‎ ♯ verse: 04. … i'm so navy blue. '

[curseplay]

@winterbeheaded liked for a starter. 🖤

❝ — sorry about lauren. she can be kinda crabby, ❞    it's the understatement of the century, but someone has to say something. paris knows this . . . knows that unless they do, all the bad energy will just be left to linger, and that tends to get to them after awhile. they shove the door to the studio courtyard open and invite riley to follow. then, they stretch their arms wide and over their head, trying to soak up as much sun as they can before returning to rehearsal. ❝ next time you wanna . . . send a gift or something, you can just leave it up front. they'll take care of you, ❞ 

#winterbeheaded #shes yet another victim of the SILK dynamic...... #: /‏‏‎ ♯ verse: 04. … i'm so navy blue. '

[curseplay]

@winterbeheaded gets a starter. 🖤

❝   so who am i making this out to, huh ? ❞    they say in a voice a little louder than their usual pitch. it's chaotic in the meet and greet room. paris sits on andie's right side, the last member of SILK on the docket for their fans to snap a picture with or snag a signature from. they've done enough of these by now that they know the routine . . . and they recognize this girl's face. their crowds have been intimate enough this stop for half the audience to be visible each night. paris grins, tapping the back end of their sharpie against the table.  ❝   this is what, the third time you've seen us ? i feel like i should know by now, ❞ 

#winterbeheaded #oh she is SOOOOOO full of shit. aint she #: /‏‏‎ ♯ verse: 04. … i'm so navy blue. '

[curseplay]

@loetise 🖤’d for a starter.

the mornings after a sunday show are always her favorite. normally, they can take their time traveling, enjoy a few extra hours of sleep and reveling in their just - passed performance over a stack of pancakes. this morning in particular, however, is made extra enjoyable by the fact that she has a bedfellow. it's not in an I PICKED UP A GROUPIE sense. [ no matter what the tabloids say ! ] allie's far too much a regular for a title like that.

paris sits up and shakes their curls out before starting the extra difficult search for their white tank in the white sheets. ❝   —  okay, if i can't find this, i'm gonna take it as a sign that we should order room service instead of going out for breakfast. sound good ? ❞          in the midst of their search, they begin to giggle . . . the sight of allie's bedhead enough to make them giddy.        ❝   look at you, sleeping beauty. good morning, ❞   

#loetise #paris harrow miraculously becomes a morning person... more at 11 #: /‏‏‎ ♯ verse: 04. … i'm so navy blue. '

[curseplay]

@behe4dings sent: who would i be without you ? [ ACCEPTING. ]

she packed her suitcases heavy on purpose so they'd take longer to drag to the gate. that way, so long as she insisted on handling them herself, her final minutes with chad ( for now, ) would drag on too. still, all things end . . . their shenanigans included.

paris eyes the hallway to the plane their bandmates have already boarded. then, they release the handles of their luggage to stretch their fingers, trying not to get too sappy with the goodbyes. the time they've been apart is something she takes responsibility for, and she wonders how much she's worthy of saying. ❝ probably pretty lame. how many people can say their best friend is a frickin' rockstar ? ❞ there's a tinge of sadness to their voice. if you knew her, you'd know she was choked up.

and chad does know her. chad knows them better than anyone, even with years between them and the personal changes they contain. he, stupid and breezy and unbreakable, helped lay the foundation for everything they came to be . . . whether he's been there to see it or not. when SILK's fans watch their sets or their pitchfork interviews, they see some unflappably cool, tattooed, guitar - shredding machine. when chad watches those same things, he sees both that guitairist and the long - haired, broody outcast behind her. he's a shred of their humanity they were foolish enough to ( ALMOST, ) lose.

she doesn't want to think about who she'd be without him. maybe dead. maybe still a fry cook. maybe the same, but with a lot less love in her heart. god, it kills them to leave him again, even if for some music festival somewhere. thank god new york city is a cultural hub. they're guaranteed to return, and return soon.

paris hugs him tight around the middle, swallowing back the happysad lump in her throat. he's still so much fucking taller than her that it's almost embarrassing . . . that it makes her feel five years younger than she actually is. ❝  i missed you a lot, ❞     there's a promise hidden in there. an i'll text you back this time. ❝  . . . and now i'm gonna miss you even more. fuck you, dude ! ❞

#behe4dings #hi charlie. how are u doing. [stares at u with huge unblinking eyes] #: /‏‏‎ ♯ answer. … something you still seek. ' #: /‏‏‎ ♯ verse: 04. … i'm so navy blue. '

[curseplay]

@foamsalt . . . continued from HERE .

"What is it you think they told me?" Adelaide asks, curious despite herself. All it took was a singular night for them to be spotted together, for assumptions to be made, for rumors to spread. Then, a visit from Whitney's friends. Or rather, puppets. Their so-called advice, spoken out of concern - so they claimed - had been nothing but thinly veiled vitriol against Paris. Admittedly, she may have believed it all, had she not heard the stories, stories from long before she met Paris. There are merits to gossip, sometimes. Somehow. "And what makes you think I'd believe it?" Brows pulling together in a frown, she exhales deeply, drawing it from the space in her chest hurting for them. "What'd she do to you, honey?" Of course she's heard. Everyone has. It had been a tabloid circus for the ages, but Adelaide wants to hear it from Paris. Not from secondhand sources.

it could have been anything. whitney's creative. she sells snake oil for a living, so she has to be, just in a different way than they are. regardless, it'll all fit into the narrative that paris is no good in some kind of way. the tabloids are more than happy to support this narrative if it ups their engagement, and they find themselves with little fight left in them some days. that's why they're all but pleading with adelaide now, voice much softer, more defeatist than usual.

❝ — a lot of people don't care to really check what's true, ❞ whitney has more influence than her, after all. having a fanbase is nothing compared to years of old money and all its connections backing you up. paris looks away, head hung low.

it's a loaded question. it's a question that spans a year and a half or so of breaking up and getting back together, at its most basic. the details are something they couldn't even disclose to lauren and andie at the time. the leaking of the tape [ and how it framed them, ] is one thing . . . but what went unrecorded in the day - to - day is another. paris refuses to confront it, lest the guilt or feelings of stupidity eat them alive.

❝ she just . . . she twisted everything. all the time. she still does, ❞ a frustrated shake of their head causes their curls to bounce. ❝ i never knew what to expect, or what to do to make her happy. 'cause even if i did things right, and she seemed pleased, she'd always eventually turn it back around . . . throw it in my face. i couldn't even breathe around her, ❞

#foamsalt #me traipsing back in here a month later..... hello....... #this has been IN MY DRAFTS. #: /‏‏‎ ♯ verse: 04. … i'm so navy blue. ' #ask to tag /

[curseplay]

@loetise sent: [ STRADDLE ]: sender sits in receivers lap to tease them. [ ACCEPTING. ]

one of the main benefits of braving the world of lingerie shopping is getting to reap the sight of seeing allie in said lingerie. she prances around the room like she's never been given a gift before [ something paris highly doubts, ], twirling around like one of those ballerinas in a wind - up jewelry box. they take a more leisurely approach, posting up on the hotel room bed and watching her like one would watch a tennis match . . . back and forth and back and forth and back and forth across the room.

when she approaches them, they think she's finally gone and worn herself out. paris manages to masterfully hide their surprise behind an extremely eager smile. their hands encircle her waist, pulling her further along so she can wrap her legs around their middle if she pleases. this leaves them at a perfect vantage point to smatter a series of kisses across her chest before gazing up at her.

❝ — what do you think, huh ? did i do a good job ? ❞ as paris speaks, their hands wander down further to grab at her thighs. ❝ that stuff's not really my style, but it sure suits you. ❞

#loetise #she has 15 minutes of rizz a day and has to use it sparingly..... #: /‏‏‎ ♯ answer. … something you still seek. ' #: /‏‏‎ ♯ verse: 04. … i'm so navy blue. ' #suggestive /

[curseplay]

@birdrule sent: you're different. better. [ ACCEPTING. ]

❝ you really think so ? ❞ there's a tinge of vulnerability to their voice, not - so - carefully hidden behind the natural charisma they carry. paris' gaze flicks to her face before a small begins to bloom on their own.

each day, it gets more difficult to control the narrative of her fame. SILK has proven very interesting to the media, and poorly prepared paris now finds herself a rather tasteless character in the story they're weaving. some days, when it all gets to be too much, she can't help but lean into it. but it's never for the reasons they suspect. this is really what she craves . . . the genuine connection that seems to be rapidly dwindling the bigger the band gets.

❝ — yeah, all that . . . stuff about me that's out there. it's mostly just noise, ❞ which, even with their sincerity, they feel like is such a cheap, celebrity thing to say. ❝ you'd be surprised how many people prefer that version of me. ❞

#birdrule #: /‏‏‎ ♯ answer. … something you still seek. ' #: /‏‏‎ ♯ verse: 04. … i'm so navy blue. ' #this made me.... sadder than i intended....

[curseplay]

@fairybit sent . . . from caroline: chances are tonight you've already got plans. [ ACCEPTING. ]

she's not wrong in her assumption. SILK's schedule, especially around awards season, is always packed to the brim. they're lucky if they get a single night in a month let alone enough free time to mingle like this. still, paris can't say she isn't charmed. that much is obvious, by the way she keeps eyeing the other and smoothing her hair back.

❝ i mean, you're not wrong, but . . . ❞ there's really no way she can get out of this industry party tonight. appearances are important, after all, and not showing up would be just about the worst look she could possibly give the band as a whole. the second worst would probably be showing up with someone random on her arm. and yet . . . ❝ — you could, uh, come with me. y'know, to the plans i've got tonight. it's like a, uh, work party sort of thing. no one should flip out too much if i bring a plus one, ❞

#fairybit #she just... loves to be the problem doesnt she #: /‏‏‎ ♯ answer. … something you still seek. ' #: /‏‏‎ ♯ verse: 04. … i'm so navy blue. '