Swervdcity - Blog Posts
reminiscing on the past didn't help – but it surely brought sentiments once forgotten. it wasn't that barbie despised the stardom, no. on the contrary, she took pride in her work and the blinding flashlights from paparazzi didn't bother her that much ; at first, anyway. sometime along the way, she has come to the revelation that she misses the good ol' times. everything seemed much easier back then … or was it just a mirage? barbie doesn't know for sure, but living in her fantasy, she's allowed to miss her old life. she's utterly lost in her train of thoughts, looking outside the window when she barely notices frida seemingly coming back.
and she's quick to notice the burning cigarette ; despite the groundbreaking record of two months without smoking, seeing frida living her life so carelessly and, possibly, happily, it gets her wondering. tempted. barbie was tempted and her apple was the cigarette she would have enjoyed, if only she asked. glossed lips part ever so slightly (withdrawal at its finest) as she leans forward in her seat, closer to them. " there's this pub that just opened near the center. have you gone there? " casual chit chat, though her lungs were burning. " also, " cue the falling into temptation, icarus really did flew too close to the sun, hasn't he now? " i was wondering what your policies are regarding smoking inside the car? "
“ are we good to go ? ” ╰ @b4rbieroberts
the loud slurp of a water down cherry coke, followed by the sound of paper shuffling. pitstops aren’t typically on the agenda, especially when there’s an agent watching the clock ... but this one’s an exception. lips part as frida whispers to herself she’s counting a wad of cash, hundreds all banded up, crisp and clean. face up, flashing franklins and a few mckinleys ... she hasn’t seen mckinley’s stupid face in a while, but she welcomes it all the same. stone faced, unbothered, until boney tattooed fingers reach for the shifter.
“ yeah, yeah … didn’t mean to hold you up, ” half-mumbled, sentence trailing off. frida hopes that this won’t be a problem if it becomes a problem, she can find ways to mitigate it. whatever. we’ll cross that bridge when we get there. silver range rover backs out of the rain-soaked ally, leaving behind the big metal backdoor of a nondescript brick building. frida scampered out like nothing, slamming it behind her, dragging on a cigarette. calm, cool, itching for payment. nose crinkles. frida attempts to exhale the cold scent of a meat locker. not picky, sure, but the meeting spot could be a lot better. she turns, looking at the backseat passenger princess : “ where to next, barbie ??? ”