. glass hillside

[isaac mcavoy]

Sobriety had allowed Isaac to acclimatise to Los Angeles. Despite the temptation that was present in every corner of the city, it managed to lend itself quite naturally to the lifestyle of a recovering addict. Health and vitality were traits pursued by all, even if some were trying to fake it with a surgeon's scalpel, or hypocritically snorting cocaine every weekend whilst refusing to shop anything but organic. He felt alive here, the constant sunshine allowing him to overdose on vitamin C, the plush gym in his apartment letting him get back on track. Of course the climate was the main difference between LA and NY, or at least he would have previously thought so. Now though, now the entirety of New York felt like a crack den, like the worst place on earth he could ever go if he wanted to be clean. There was one other major difference between here and there. Whilst both cities had more than their fair share of mega-celebs, there was something about being in Los Angeles that made him feel a lot less famous, a whole lot more normal. Sat outside the yoga studio he knew Kendra favored, at a time when he knew her preferred class would be likely coming to a close, Isaac thought about all the models and actresses just beyond that door. Sat on a bench with a smoothie and his sunglasses on, he waited for the familiar form of his ex girlfriend, unable to help a small smile when he spotted her amongst the women filtering out. "Hey, Ken. Hi. Are you busy?"

[kendra santisi]

Los Angeles no longer felt like home, no matter how long Kendra remained tucked in to the California hills. Sure she'd grown up there, benefitting from family and privilege and friendships, but the second her career had taken off she'd barely looked back. New York City she knew like the back of her hand now, immersed in cigarette smoke outside of studios and nights that bled straight into days. It exhausted her as much as it enthralled her - the rationale she gave as to why she'd remained in LA for more than a week at this point. Her own form of detox. Not that this city had been entirely kind to her either. The impersonal breakup with Isaac still tasted bitter in her throat, cloying with a sense of shame. Or embarrassment, or fury, or idiocracy...she couldn't discern. Distractions made it easier to swallow anyway, blissfully numb through her entire practice and then some, catching up on e-mails as she tossed a light jacket over her sports bra and piled her hair haphazardly on her head. Still thumbing the delete button as she slips past the door she barely hears her own name, blue eyes flicking to the last thing she truly wanted to see. "Yes," Kendra responds curtly to his question, flicking her sunglasses over her nose and immediately turning to walk the opposite direction until she realized she'd be heading away from her apartment. Fuck. Rigidly she whips back around and continues past him. "I don't want to hear whatever this is."

[isaac mcavoy]

For once in his life, Zac felt he looked at least half as healthy as Kendra. His skin had a healthy bronze sheen, his complexion clear and fresh. It had taken him months of being locked up in a luxury retreat, of course, whilst her natural beauty shone bright even on her most hungover days. Fresh faced and casually dressed, Kendra looked even better than his memory had preserved her as being. It was a trait she shared with Alessia, an unearthly beauty that made them almost look like a different species. Whilst Zac was comfortable with his appearance, happy with it even, being around this class of model was something he had never been able to adjust to, always feeling like the gangly, awkward version of himself that he'd been as a teen. "Oh come on, not even a little smile? It's been so long! You look well," he said, hurt by her frosty reception though he knew he had absolutely no right to be. He wasn't sure what kind of reception he had expected, come to think of it. She breezed by and with it he could smell the familiar scent of her body spray, a smell that sent a sharp pang of nostalgia right through his heart. He can't help but let out a soft little laugh as she goes back on herself, falling into step beside her, pushing his sunglasses up on top of his head. "Kenny, I get why you're mad. I deserve it. Please, can we just talk?" He sighs, wondering how long they have before people start to clock who they are, before the whispers start. "I don't want to make a scene. If you really don't want to talk to me, I'll go. But I don't want to."

[kendra santisi]

He looked happy. It was infuriating for Kendra to admit, noting the sly smirk on his lips and the tan clinging his skin. As if their relationship had been the thing he'd been recovering from, not the drugs or general hatred he'd tossed her way when she'd tried to visit. It had been a whirlwind of convincing herself she'd made the right decision after multiple attempts to talk her out of it, realizing she'd all but been used when that lousy e-mail came through. Her heart dropped even reading the words, clutching her phone in her plush Paris hotel room and reminding herself that this was what it felt like to be completely and totally alone. Even when he was in rehab he'd had her - but looking at him now, the nonchalant way he fell into step and his offhand attempt at a joke, she wondered if she'd ever really had him at all "You literally stalked me here," is all Kendra finally manages, tucking her arms under her chest once they hit a light and she's forced to stop. Trying to take note of who was around, when people would inevitably start pointing. As calm as Los Angeles seemed at times there was always someone watching, a factor Isaac's probably calculated once she turns to regard him, fists curling down to her sides. "What more is there to say, honestly? You're out of rehab, you shook me off - freedom's all yours!" She wants to scream it, you got what you wanted, but she knew him well enough that the phrase had no concept. Instead Kendra rolls her eyes beneath her shades and plucks the smoothie from his hand when the light goes green. Might as well benefit from the torture. "We can't make one, Zac, we're in the middle of the fucking public street. So why don't you just reply back on our little e-mail chain with your half-hearted apology and I can delete it and be done. "

[isaac mcavoy]

Did he have heatstroke? What had seemed like a good idea not so very long ago now seemed an incredibly stupid one. The petite brunette had seemed so familiar to him that initially, it was easy to forget how things had ended, easy even to imagine that they hadn't ended at all. He had met her after her exercise classes in the past, hadn't he? He had even done what he was doing right now, shown up with a smoothie in his hand without thinking of getting one for her. Then she had teased him for his thoughtlessness, but now she seemed to be all too aware of how deep that thoughtlessness ran. As was he, as he truly had not thought this through. The virtual Kendra had been easy to let down with a few scrawled words, his lingering resentment at being in rehab feeling like some sort of vindication. He no longer felt that, the realization of the fact that his words had consequences was one that was only now dawning upon him. "Ken," he said, uselessly saying her name for the millionth time. "Kendra," he repeated yet again, emphasising it, trying to get her to hear him. Was it stalking? Probably. She turns to look at him and the full force of her glare winds him. "I didn't shake you off," he says quietly, pained that she saw it that way. "God, do you really think that's what happened?" She makes a quip about the email and it's a punch to the gut, because she's right. An email really was not a legitimate means of breaking that news. He opens and closes his mouth a couple of times as the light changes ahead of them, almost saying that he had no other choice but deciding against it. Finally he sighs. "You're right. An email was a really pussy move on my part."

[kendra santisi]

Kendra. "What." She had no idea if he'd ever said her full name aloud, so accustomed to Ken or Kenny that it sounded foreign coming off his lips. As if he were trying something new, trying to make her stop for one moment when all she wanted to do was turn away and refuse to look back. It had been a mistake to even get involved, she could recognize that clear as day now - but hearing him, being so close again...it brought back a chemistry that never had a chance to burst. And she hated that even more. Hated that she could play out this conversation with ease if she wanted to, her responses seeming to be the only changing variable. Hated that she didn't entirely want him to leave, either. "I don't want your analysis bullshit of what happened. You kissed Athena, you couldn't make a decision about if you wanted to be with me or not, and you decided to tell me all of this over e-mail because you felt guilty about it once you got over the 'angry at my twenty-two year old girlfriend for putting me in rehab' bit. It's all about you, remember." Slender fingers feign air quotes around the smoothie she'd stolen, raising her other hand to tug the dark curls on top of her head a little tighter. At this point she wasn't even fighting for closure of any kind, hearing him sigh under his breath as they trekked along. She was just looking for an apology. It's evident in the way her shoulders fall after his words, silent for a second before her response comes light under her breath. "Yeah, it really was."