Complications || Bardot and Sherry 

bbluejayway:

She scoffed. Sherry wouldn’t dare answer anymore of Bardot’s questions. They were as stupid, and self-centered as the blonde herself. Sherry did have plenty to say, though. But she could say it to Max, or Cherry even—perhaps Sherry would mumble her opinions to herself, just to get them out of her head. All she knew was that she would get the jumbled, confused words out of her head somehow. And that it wouldn’t be talking to Bardot.

That’s what she told herself anyway. In reality, though, Sherry wouldn’t be able to keep her thoughts bottled up inside her head. If she did, eventually she’d go crazy. That half crazy she almost was, the half crazy people got after being hurt; Sherry was almost sure it was called delusional.

The brunette grabbed her cigs, turned them over in her hand, feeling the box, contemplating them, as if she hadn’t decided she was going to inhale-exhale them already. Bardot would look at her hands, instead of her face—her pink cheeks, her not done lips, her moody, sunken in eyes, the certain innocence she wished would go away—because that’s what Sherry wanted. What she wanted more than the taste of nicotine on her tounge.

“We don’t. We can’t stand each other. Trust? We don’t know the meaning of that, either. And, you do know you are a stripper? Men make rules. Girls follow them. Didn’t they teach you that where you came from?” Sherry knew her last remark was something of a low blow, but she wasn’t one to care much about things like that. It didn’t matter. They were just words.

Bardot just rolled her eyes and sighed. The other girl was probably interpreting her words all wrong. Probably twisting them in her head to fit her own vision of her being self-centered and snooty. Which she wasn’t but everyone always seemed to think that. She didn’t quite know why. She tried to be as good hearted as possible but all Sherry did was twist her words and be rude or bitchy. She shook her head and turned it. She felt awful like she would cry at any moment. 

She barely noticed that her eyes started to fill with tears out of frustration with the whole situation. She was just trying to be nice and talk sense into the girl…but she guessed it wasn’t working and probably would never work. She turned her head as her eyes glittered with tears and her heeled leg shook as she tried to prevent her tears from spilling over. She was always misunderstood by Sherry…but everyone it seemed. Everyone either thought she was a snooty and self-centered bitch or an air head.

Bardot tried to keep her voice even as she put her hands on her dressing table then she picked up her lipstick and started to apply it. “Its fine. You don’t seem to care or understand what I am tryin’ to say. You obviously twist my words into somethin’ else in your mind. I don’t want to talk anymore.” She said trying to keep her words even. She always tried to be nice to people…and it seemed to get her nowhere with Sherry. It didn’t mean she was going to change herself, though…it did mean she was rather hurt. She ignored Sherry’s silly and petty words and just stared at her slightly red rimmed eyes the mirror. 

She guessed she would just have to suffer through Cherry and Sherry’s catty nastiness…she would have to grin and bare it the way she always has.

Complications || Bardot and Sherry 

bbluejayway:

The younger girl shook her head. It ls it that hard to understand? Clearly it was, if only for the blonde. Sherry could explain it another way, but the effort put into it probably wouldn’t be worth it. She huffed, not wanting to explain. Maybe Bardot would leave her alone then. That was surely a reason to roll her eyes at Bardot and make her see sense.

The girl didn’t know how to start… damn. She would ramble until she knew what say… maybe…. “Okay. How many people here are friends?” There were a few clusters of newbies talking, but they did that because they didn’t know any better—being friendly; nice—wouldn’t get them anywhere, not close to the big stage, or Ace’s line of sight. “Right. None,” her question was rhetorical, of course.

She eyed her cigarettes again. One more question, and one more answer, and Sherry could enjoy her cigarettes. “Now tell me… why should we be friends?” The girl gripped the table, grabbed her cigs—she already finished her eyes—, and waited. Maybe Bardot would take the hint and answer fast. But maybe not.

Bardot was sighing as she bit her rouge bottom lip and looks up at her from her sitting position at her dressing table. She guessed that Sherry thought she was some naive dumb ass for not understanding the stupid “rules” but she did understand them, she just didn’t want to follow them. They were stupid rules set out to turn all of the girls against each other for no fuckin’ reason. Shouldn’t women stick together?

As Bardot heard her spew her same spiel again sht rolled her eyes a bit inspit of herself, “so? Why don’t we girls stick together? Why do we have to bow down to what men say anyway? All thats designed to do is turn us girls against each other when it should be against the man doing it.” She said firmly, looking at her, her green eyes were blazing with determination. She wasn’t quite the blonde air hair Sherry had imagined. As a matter-of-fact she never was. She just didn’t get why women had to live by men’s rules.

Her eyes searched Sherry then she said sincerely, “because…I like you. I think you’re an interestin’ girl.” She said, with her souther accent and her voice filled with determination. She wasn’t about to let the girl blow her off again. Shes had enough of that. “Is that a fuckin’ crime? To be nice?” 

Complications || Bardot and Sherry 

bbluejayway:

bardotblonde:

Bardot bit her lower lip and frown a bit, brow furrowing. She really was just trying to be nice. All she wanted to do was let bygones be bygones…but it seemed like she would try to try a bit harder to do that. She already had Cherry on her back and trying to compete with her 24/7…she didn’t need Sherry being nasty to her as well. She let out a small sigh as she turned to eye her at the costume rack.

“Look…all I wanna do it talk…and maybe straighten things out between us. I don’t want it to be horrible and terrible every time we have a conversation.” She said sincerely and honestly in her sweet southern accent. She knew people could interpret her as stuck up because of the way she looked…but she was anything but and she wanted to show Sherry that she wasn’t a stuck up bitch and she wasn’t stupid neither.

The younger girl chewed on her lip. She probably looked like a little girl, timid and shy, a different version of her younger self. Someone she didn’t want to look like. At least she wasn’t looking in the mirror. That would be worse—tangible. She would hide behind the rack, and speak. Bardot didn’t need to see her looking like a deer in headlights. It would do no good for her Rep. None of the other girls ever saw her like that and she didn’t need to. Sherry got enough shit because she was moved down—the big stage used to be her haven, not anymore.

“I really don’t care. Not what you want.” Sherry’s words weren’t coming out right. Jumbled. To the blonde, she probably sounded high or something. “I like how it is. This is the way it works. Ya know, how it’s supposed to be. Whatever.” She grabbed her hair in her hands, tousled it—a nervous habit, one she thought she’d gotten rid of. “Do you get it?” She didn’t wait for an answer.

Instead, the brunette went to one of the tables, the tables with makeup. The blonde shadowed her. Sherry wasn’t going to look at her. It would be something of a deathwish. All she would do was fumble around with her eyepencil, doing her makeup, untidy, smudged, because she wasn’t very good at it. If she lived through Bardot’s stare, and almost poking her eye with the pencil, she’d allow herself a smoke. The nicotine would calm her, as it always did. It was what she needed.

Bardot felt as if she had hit a nerve with what she said in all honesty. She always thought honesty was the best policy no matter how much that stunk of a cliche. Thats really what she thought and she was right. She was glad that she had struck some kind of a nerve with the girl. She wanted something else from her besides complete smart aleck remarks and apathy. 

“I am not sayin’ that you have to care what I want…its mostly for us to be friendly with each other. Not because I want piece of mind a self-centered way.” She said in a very eloquent and sincere way. Her eyes shone with compassion as she looked at her worriedly and pleadingly. All she wanted was for this silliness to stop. “Well, just because its the way it works it don’ mean it has to be this way.” She said to her directly. She noticed that she sounded a bit weird…”so, I gotta say…that I don’ get it.” She said to her, her brow furrowing as she shook her head.

She bit her lower lip as she said her peace and hoped that she would give what she said consideration as she heard it from where she was by the make-up table.

Complications || Bardot and Sherry 

bbluejayway:

bardotblonde:

Bardot eyed Sherry with a sympathetic gaze. She always wanted to comfort people and that was never more true than with Sherry…if someone was mean to her she would just keep on being nice to them back—kill them with kindness was her motto. She just didn’t like upsetting people or having them hate her…so she always wanted to comfort Sherry and maybe even become friends? She didn’t know if that would ever happen…but aft the first least she wanted her to be civil with her. She didn’t want Sherry thinking that she was this stuck up bitch who wanted to walk all over people…she was nice! She tried to be as nice as she could to everyone.

She really didn’t like that Ace played favorites. She hadn’t been around the place long…but it was obvious that Cherry and her were Ace’s favorites. He’d always treat them well and let them go on the main stage…and the other issue was with Cherry and the fact that they always seemed to be fighting for silly Ace’s fucking attention. She sighed…she needed a boyfriend…no no! They’d ruin your career! She thought then bit her lower lip.

“Hey there, Sherry…how are you?” She asked her warmly. She just wanted to know how she was…that conversation with stupid Ace sounded horrible.

Was it rude to ignore the blonde? Sherry thought no. Whenever they talked—something she usually tried to avoid—the conversation pissed her off, and it was always meaningless small talk; it wasn’t vital and that was probably a reason it annoyed her. She didn’t want to talk anyway. Their conversation could wait.

Sherry willed Bardot to be outside, on stage, when she came out. Even though it probably wouldn’t happen. She could hope for it. The girl went to the racks of costumes, and grabbed hers. She’d find her shoes later; they were probably in a corner, because that’s what the other girls did—they made a mess to find their shoes and then it was a hassle for everyone else. But she was used to it.

Bardot bit her lower lip and frown a bit, brow furrowing. She really was just trying to be nice. All she wanted to do was let bygones be bygones…but it seemed like she would try to try a bit harder to do that. She already had Cherry on her back and trying to compete with her 24/7…she didn’t need Sherry being nasty to her as well. She let out a small sigh as she turned to eye her at the costume rack.

“Look…all I wanna do it talk…and maybe straighten things out between us. I don’t want it to be horrible and terrible every time we have a conversation.” She said sincerely and honestly in her sweet southern accent. She knew people could interpret her as stuck up because of the way she looked…but she was anything but and she wanted to show Sherry that she wasn’t a stuck up bitch and she wasn’t stupid neither.

Complications || Bardot and Sherry 

bbluejayway:

bardotblonde:

Complex was a way to describe Bardot’s feelings, relationships, and experiences in working at The Phoenix Club. This was the most significant in her relationship—or lack-there-of with Sherry. As Bardot sat and thought about this for a minute back stage as she was winding down from one of her numbers on “the big stage” as some of the girls called it. She really didn’t know what to do about Sherry…Sherry seemed like she could be a very sweet and groovy person under all of the barriers she put in front of herself—most likely from having a hard life but it was rather had to break through them in the first place. She had never experienced a person who was like that before until she came to San Francisco. It overwhelmed her, but, she knew she had to do something about it. She knew that she one day had to confront Sherry about it so they could stop all of the awkward talk between them. 

Bardot just wished that she was treated as an equal among the other girls as Cherry seemed to be treated…or even Sherry. Sure, Ace decided to put her on “the big stage” but that was not something she asked for…just as it was something Sherry didn’t ask for…being put on “the smaller stage”. As she bit her lip and sighed, furrowing her pretty brow, she heard someone come in…speaking of the devil, it was Sherry.

“C’mon Ace, all I need is four days. And I don’t think you’ll miss me that much…” She bit her lip, though he was used to her flirting. After all, it was his fault. All of it. Sherry was young enough to get taken advantage of; and she let him. Meeting at bars and cheap motels was something they did before—before Max came, before she worked there, before Cherry and her “bonded,” recreationally. Now he probably didn’t sneak a peek. He had new girls to look at.

She ducked out of the office before he could say no, like always. “Thanks—,” technically it was a no thanks, going to her parent’s house was never fun, but going was probably better than being forced back to her safe little ‘burb. Her dad would live up to his threat, because he always did. But Sherry was a good girl; she’d give her dad no reasons to live up to it, the four days were enough.

The brunette bounded into the changing room, because she still had to change, and do her eyes, and find her shoes. None of the others would bother her. They knew how she gets—a pissy girl was something they didn’t need on their hands.

Bardot eyed Sherry with a sympathetic gaze. She always wanted to comfort people and that was never more true than with Sherry…if someone was mean to her she would just keep on being nice to them back—kill them with kindness was her motto. She just didn’t like upsetting people or having them hate her…so she always wanted to comfort Sherry and maybe even become friends? She didn’t know if that would ever happen…but aft the first least she wanted her to be civil with her. She didn’t want Sherry thinking that she was this stuck up bitch who wanted to walk all over people…she was nice! She tried to be as nice as she could to everyone.

She really didn’t like that Ace played favorites. She hadn’t been around the place long…but it was obvious that Cherry and her were Ace’s favorites. He’d always treat them well and let them go on the main stage…and the other issue was with Cherry and the fact that they always seemed to be fighting for silly Ace’s fucking attention. She sighed…she needed a boyfriend…no no! They’d ruin your career! She thought then bit her lower lip.

“Hey there, Sherry…how are you.” She asked her warmly. She just wanted to know how she was…that conversation with stupid Ace sounded horrible.

Complications || Bardot and Sherry 

Complex was a way to describe Bardot’s feelings, relationships, and experiences in working at The Phoenix Club. This was the most significant in her relationship—or lack-there-of with Sherry. As Bardot sat and thought about this for a minute back stage as she was winding down from one of her numbers on “the big stage” as some of the girls called it. She really didn’t know what to do about Sherry…Sherry seemed like she could be a very sweet and groovy person under all of the barriers she put in front of herself—most likely from having a hard life but it was rather had to break through them in the first place. She had never experienced a person who was like that before until she came to San Francisco. It overwhelmed her, but, she knew she had to do something about it. She knew that she one day had to confront Sherry about it so they could stop all of the awkward talk between them. 

Bardot just wished that she was treated as an equal among the other girls as Cherry seemed to be treated…or even Sherry. Sure, Ace decided to put her on “the big stage” but that was not something she asked for…just as it was something Sherry didn’t ask for…being put on “the smaller stage”. As she bit her lip and sighed, furrowing her pretty brow, she heard someone come in…speaking of the devil, it was Sherry.