starsmisalign (starsmisalign) wrote in birthrightrpg, @ 2021-05-04 21:12:00 |
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Entry tags: | celeste henry, trina van dorne |
To Opportunism
Who: Trina/Celeste
What: A party
Where: Utah
When: 2019
Ratings/Warnings: Low-ish
Whoever had control of the music was blowing it big time. It was supposed to be a party, and someone was playing Nickelback. Celeste poured the last dregs from a handle of cheap vodka into a plastic cup with a single ice cube in it. The brunette’s gaze swept over the crowded room and wondered when the cops would be called for a noise complaint.
As she brought the drink to her lips, she spotted Rand in the crowd. He was talking loud enough that she could hear snatches of what he was saying; he was bragging about how much money he was about to make. “Fucking idiot,” Celeste muttered into the cup.
Trina had met Rand at the Carbon County Motocross track. Gambling wasn’t legal in Utah and probably never would be, but there were spectator sports where some under the table betting went on. They were both between jobs because he’d gotten fired from selling air conditioners at Sears and she was new to the area and hadn’t found a place to catch on. All the quality clubs were in Salt Lake, but she wasn’t sure about the commute.
She was currently finishing off her cup of second-shelf bourbon and slouching against the door jamb between the kitchen and the crowded living room. The music was annoying her, but her CDs were still packed in her duffel bag, which was in the trunk of her car outside. She hadn’t really moved in yet, even though she and Rand kind of lived together. He was good-looking in a sleazy sort of way and spent his money casually. She’d admired his leather coat and he offered to buy her a beer. If he was into some things that weren’t necessarily legal, she had no pressing need to be informed, pleaseandthankyou.
After topping off her drink, the blonde waded through the clutch of people near the big screen TV and dropped her weight on the couch. She knew Celeste better than most of Rand’s crowd, which was to say not at all. She pointed towards the stereo with her cup.
“Sorry about that. Nobody asked before things got swinging.”
Celeste turned at the sound of Trina’s voice. At first, she just sipped her vodka as she looked at the woman, unsure of what to say. Small talk wasn’t exactly in her wheelhouse. “It’s fine,” the brunette shrugged, setting the now empty cup down next to its discarded brethren. “It helps drown out the bullshit that spews out of these guys’ mouths.”
She glanced out of the foggy window of the apartment. It was cold outside, winter threatening to set in. The snow always depressed her. It was like a blanket that killed everything it landed on. “I hope you know that you can do better than him,” Celeste added, nodding toward Rand.
“Can and have. But he’s okay for who he is.”
Trina’s relationships with other women tended towards the suspicious at first, at least once the ones who weren’t in her line of work found out she was a stripper. One thing you learned while working the club circuit was that the drama was non-stop, even worse than when she’d been slinging drinks and waiting tables. The one unbreakable rule was, Don’t poach. Life was interesting enough without having an angry girlfriend calling you at three in the morning because the guy she was seeing offered to walk you to your car after a long shift.
“I didn’t think he knew so many people, though.”
Celeste snorted, leaning back against the counter as she rolled the sleeves of her flannel shirt up to her elbows. “He doesn’t know half of these people,” she informed Trina with a slight smirk. “They’re the types who only come around when they smell money, and right now Rand reeks of it.” She paused, wondering exactly how much the other woman knew about her boyfriend. Ignorance was probably bliss, and the brunette wasn’t about to blab. She had plans that couldn’t exactly be orchestrated from a prison cell.
“Are you two, like, serious?”
“Not really.”
Though she did like his hands, and he could be counted on to bring Chinese food home at least three days a week. He was interested in seeing her onstage without being gross about it, and he had enough home training to put the seat down when he was done in the bathroom. If he’d had no redeeming qualities, she’d have found someone else to buy her that beer.
But he was not boyfriend material, and she could see that too. Boyfriends had jobs, for one thing, and while she didn’t really care if he didn’t work, it was mostly because she wasn’t planning on tying herself to him, or to this city. Some people were just better not to get attached to.
“He’s a good jump-off,” she told Celeste, lifting one shoulder in a shrug. “But I just got here and he’s not anything like settled. So it’s way too soon for serious.”
Celeste walked to the fridge and grabbed a cheap bottle of beer before sitting on the couch next to Trina. The cushion sank in the middle from overuse as she twisted the cap off and threw it into a plastic cup filled with them. “Where are you planning to land?” the brunette asked curiously after the initial sip.
“Haven’t decided. I was living in Oregon before, but this doesn’t feel like the last stop. Everybody says Vegas just for the cliche of it, but I don’t know if I’d like living near the desert. Except maybe for landscape photography.”
Trina had emptied her cup, and she set it aside on a crowded end table for later. They were probably out of bourbon anyway. Nickelback had finally given way to 3 Doors Down, which was a moderate improvement. “How did you guys meet, anyway? You and Rand. I thought you were….whatever, but I guess not.”
“You thought we were…?” Then Celeste caught on, nearly choking on her beer. “Oh, no. No way.” She laughed derisively until she remembered that Trina was with Rand. “We don’t have, um, chemistry.” She looked away awkwardly. Two people standing near the couch were arguing over whether it was possible to play beer pong without a table. Or paddles. The brunette turned back to face the other woman.
“We met through mutual friends in Boulder,” Celeste explained. Rand was many things, but he also happened to possess a gift for breaking into seemingly unbreakable places. “I’m kind of in between places right now, too.”
“He mentioned something about going to Aspen once winter hits, get back to skiing,” Trina said lightly, hoping to save Celeste from further embarrassment. Though it answered two questions; that the brunette didn’t poach either, and that she and Rand weren’t related, which had been her first thought. They were plotting something, she just didn’t know what. Wasn’t sure she wanted to know. The environment she had grown up in meant it was usually better to not ask questions, because answers seldom worked out in your favor.
“Maybe next week we could grab coffee or something,” she suggested after a minute. “I need to do some job search stuff, but I’m at loose ends and don’t know many people yet. If you wanted.”
Once winter hits. Celeste smiled to herself. If Rand was talking about going to Aspen, it was to dodge any heat that would come their way from the robbery. She tucked one leg beneath herself, relaxing against the couch when it became apparent no one was going to shut down the party due to noise complaints. “Yeah, if I’m around,” the brunette offered vaguely. She wasn’t about to make any promises. She was already itching to get a car and head further west.
“I don’t know how much help I’ll be in terms of finding a job, though,” Celeste added. “I’m more like a...freelancer.”
“Me too, actually. Sort of. There’s agencies and stuff you can go through, but that costs money. It’s easier if you know somebody already, and I don’t, so…”
Trina’s left shoulder went up and down in a shrug, and she added, “Mostly I’d just like to get out of this apartment during the day. Rand I can deal with, but he’s got people falling in and out of the door at all hours. Like if they were a band, they’d be called The Unemployables, y’know? Them I can do without.”
“If you want them to clear out, just play a siren sound effect on your phone,” Celeste suggested with a shrug and a smirk, taking another pull of the beer. “It’s surprisingly effective.” Her gaze strayed back toward Rand. After the heist, he had shown the brunette a diamond tennis bracelet, telling her he was going to give it to someone special. She wondered if that person was Trina. The thing was, Trina did not seem like an idiot, and one look at the piece of jewelry would show that it wasn’t fake and that someone like him would never be able to afford it.
“Where are you from, originally?”
“Florida.”
It was the automatic answer, and it was a big state. Big enough to not have to specify, though she did have memories of the place. Grassless front yards and cars up on blocks in the driveways and bugs that made noises at all hours. Screen doors that slammed, a car with an official logo, the overwhelming smell of flowery hand lotion. Trina studied the clutter on the coffee table for a minute before leaning forward and picking up a half-filled bottle of vodka. Poured some into her empty cup before holding it out to Celeste quesiontingly.
“Though I’ve lived a little bit of everywhere,” she continued. “Came here from Atlanta, might hang around for a while. However long that is.”
“I’m thinking about going west. Like Nevada.” Celeste wasn’t entirely sure what had prompted her to reveal that to Trina and she immediately regretted it once the words left her mouth. Visibly uncomfortable, she took the bottle from the other woman and poured some into her empty plastic cup. Even though the last thing she needed at that moment was to get drunk. “Or Los Angeles. Take advantage of some rich people.” The brunette shrugged and smiled into her cup.
“Then here’s to opportunism.”
Though she wouldn’t have called herself a gold-digger, at least not seriously. Like most girls who knew what they looked like, Trina was not above taking advantage of a situation if she had to, but she had her limits. She touched her cup to Celeste’s in a mostly-serious toast, and the front door to the apartment opened, letting in cool air from outside and letting out a blast of music as the song on the stereo changed.
“Pizza’s here! Finally!”
“I better make sure Rand gives the guy a couple of extra dollars,” she said, putting her unfinished drink aside . “It’s cold outside, and he’s got some weird thing about not tipping. If I don’t embarrass him into it, he’ll ‘forget’.”
She got up from the couch, said, “Nice talking with you, Celeste. If you do get time for Starbucks or whatever, just drop by.”