. stassi

[stassi siminski]

a n a s t a s i a   i r i s

"perhaps when we find ourselves wanting everything,
it is because we are dangerously close to wanting nothing."

[stassi siminski]

HAPPINESS SEEMS TO BE LONELINESS "What's that?" The skin barely covered by the neckline of her shirt is deep purple and mottled with red. It stands out against a sea of alabaster, a challenge, daring me to comment on it as I take the liberty of reaching out and pushing the fabric aside for a better look. Stassi shrugs me off but then she was always like that when we hadn't spoken for a while, pouty and slow to warm up. Sometimes it's cute, other times boring, but always predictable. It's made worse by how long it's been since I've seen her, and the fact that she's obviously on one of her multi day comedowns, though she'll never admit as much. "Fuck off Jasper, I'm working." A smirk creeps across my face. We're outside the Box and it's approaching 3am, usually a pretty happening time to be here but the chill has put people off and we're alone. Goosebumps prickle across her chest though she has what's definitely a real fur coat draped across her shoulders, embodying the mob wife look if the mob boss happened to also be Count Dracula. "So Vegas must have been fun then," I coax, lighting a cigarette and trying to seem casual. With a sigh she shrugs, holding out her hand and making a grabby motion with her fingertips, her long dark nails clicking against each other. I give her a cigarette. There's a sugar free Red Bull, double vodka and fresh lime sat in front of her, delivered by yours truly. The drink was affectionately known as the Stassi behind the bar, and the fact that we're here, on what is distinctly her turf, makes it more likely that I'll be able to tease details out of her. We had met in this very line after all, back when she'd declined entry to three of my friends - including my girlfriend at the time - and I'd decided there and then that she was someone worth knowing. She decided the same thing about me in the same second, though again, it's something she'd deny to the death if asked. "Vegas is always fun, isn't that the whole point?" A few brave partiers show up and she waves them inside with barely a glance, even though one of them was wearing a pair of mustard Adidas Sambas and usually it would take far less to draw her ire. Something was really up. Despite myself, it prickled under my skin, the thought of her being so wound up over this... she hadn't told me anything, but I'd pieced enough together to know that a hunch I had always had (and she had always vehemently denied) was turning out to be true after all. I knew who had been on that trip, I knew her mood since she got back, and now there was that damn hickey, taunting me as she tried her very best to pay me no mind. "You're kind of a mess, you know that?" I put my own cigarette out on her clipboard, letting the butt fall where it may. I push my sunglasses up as I lean in front of her, not letting her off the hook so easily this time as I speak through gritted teeth. "You've sworn up and down the whole time I've known you that he's just a friend, no-- that he's like a big brother to me." In the cold light of day I can admit the mocking tone was a little much here, and the air quotes probably didn't add much to my argument. "Come on then Ana. Confess. Act like I'm just one of your little TikTok fans, spill the tea. Did he fuck you real good?" "You're being insane." "Am I? Did something happen between you two?" "Me and who?" she asks, though she avoids my eye contact as she does, finally taking a sip of her drink and fussing with the burn mark the cigarette left on the paper. It's infuriating.  "Don't be fucking dense," before I can stop myself, I've got her face in my hand, tilting it up to look at me. "You're so fucking obvious. You finally got what you wanted and now look at you, sitting here moping like a schoolgirl. You're embarrassing yourself." "Fuck off Jasper, I'm serious," she says, roughly pushing my hand away but not soon enough for me to miss a glimpse of her eyes getting wet. I snort. "You're an embarrassment. Sitting around with a hickey, practically drawing hearts all over your notebook. Get a fucking grip Ana." She puts her cigarette out in her drink, and in a move I should have seen coming but don't, she throws it over my face."Fuck, you fucking cunt!" As I'm wiping the sickly sweet syrup away, I can see her calling the bouncer over, so I hold my hands up. "Alright, alright, I'm going. This place is dead anyway. Ana, call me when you come to your senses." Not two hours later I get the call, her name flashing up with a Facetime request. It gives me immense satisfaction to send it straight to voicemail. Fuck her.