AN: *tw: light drug use* HAPPY PRIDE MONTH, Y'ALL! i’m celebrating by bringing you another chapter.

this time, it’s trixie’s pov…there’s drama, and a little taste of wixie smut. :x

the image on the cups is a reference to bill bailey’s love ballad - he’s my favourite comedian.

i hope you enjoy…let me know that you think! xox

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moastar

tumblr: moastarc.tumblr.com

as always, thank u elliot for ur support <3

Trixie’s eyes fluttered open, and she was greeted by the welcoming sight of her girlfriend’s bare back poking out from the duvet. She smiled sleepily, shuffling closer to her to plant a soft kiss on her shoulder. Willam winced violently beneath Trixie’s lips, and shrugged away quickly. Trixie, in her sleepy daze, was overwhelmed with confusion.

“Willam?” She croaked, failing to notice that Willam was taking special care to stash her phone out of sight.

“Y-yeah, babe?” she stammered in reply, her back still turned away from Trixie. “Sorry, you just– woke me up, and I was surprised.”

“Oh,” Trixie wasn’t buying the lie. She had known Willam long enough.

“I’m gonna shower,” Willam announced shakily, before padding quickly across the carpet to the bathroom, her eyes avoiding Trixie’s.

Trixie was left in a bewildered state, unsure of what to make of Willam’s strange mood. She stretched herself across Willam’s side of the bed, and heard her phone vibrate loudly under the pillow beneath her.

Without thinking, Trixie fished the phone out, and glanced at the illuminated screen.

TRADE

You have a new message!



Trade? Trixie felt a lump rise in her throat, which she tried desperately to swallow.

She shoved the phone where she found it, and quickly grasped her own to google what this app might be, though she had an awful feeling she may already know.

Willam stepped out of the bathroom in a cloud of steam, a towel wrapped carefully around her head. When the smoke cleared, she couldn’t avoid Trixie’s eyes bearing into her, a thousand unasked questions in their depths.

“Wh-why do you have this?” Trixie asked weakly, her words choked with sadness.

Willam could only gaze at her helplessly. She clearly saw no use in pretending anymore. “I-I was just…looking.”

“Looking?” Trixie stuttered. “Willam…you said you didn’t want to hook anymore. I thought we were - moving on, moving up. Together.” Her eyes stung with unshod tears.

Willam’s face was the picture of misery. All she could do was shake her head, and sigh.

*

Trixie’s phone had vibrated a dozen or so times in the last minute, but she was simply too disheartened to care.

Willam had left for work shortly after their uncomfortable exchange that morning, and they hadn’t spoke again. Trixie had resigned herself to a human-burrito, wrapped up in a soft blanket on the sofa. For a while she had shovelled fistfuls of her favourite sweet popcorn into her mouth whilst watching terrible rom-com’s on Netflix, but now she simply lay face-down and unmoving.

After the 17th consecutive vibrate, Trixie sighed dramatically and snatched her phone off the coffee table, intending to turn her phone onto silent. When she looked at the screen, she realised she had been added to a group-chat named “CELEBRATION!!!!11!”, which no doubt explained the incessant buzzing. Curiosity got the better of her though, so she opened it.

Trixie was added to the conversation



Katya: you GUYS! i am so hyped, i can’t even believe it



Kennedy: you better believe it baby, we’re going to Chicago!



Violet: ;)



Courtney: ok so we have established that i am hosting the party right?



Raja: WE



Courtney: alrite, fuck. we



Raja: (y)



Courtney: is this fri gd for everyone?



Katya: pizza fridays?! but Court. you love pizza fridays!



Courtney: Zamo, we can hav pizza friday any time. its not every day the cirque gets invited to chicago!



Katya: shut up!! i’ll explode i’m so excited



Latrice: yess bitchhh! you all deserve it, I’m so happy! Friday is good for me, yes ma'am



Violet: I’ll be there girl



Kennedy: I can’t make no promises, but I’ll try, ladies



Latrice: ahem



Raja: ahem



Kenndey: sorry…and gentlemen…and Raja



Raja: :)



Jay was added to the conversation



Courtney: wtf, whose bright idea was it to add jay?



Jay: I’m djing, bitches!



Courtney: no ur not



Raja: no you’re not



Jay: way to piss on my dream, guys



Katya: hey Trixie…are you coming?

Trixie, after trying to process this chaotic back and forth, was incredibly confused. Chicago? The Cirque? She decided to text Katya separately from the group.

Trixie: Sorry, I’ve only just seen the group invite. What’s going on?

Katya began typing her reply immediately.

Katya: oh my god, Trixie, I can barely believe it

Someone from Chicago came to see our show last week

And they LOVED IT!

They own a gay bar in Chicago and they want us to go for a show!!1 skdfnd!

Trixie found Katya’s excitement quite sweet, and she smiled, despite her state of misery. She tried to muster up as much enthusiasm as she could - at least it was easier over text.

Trixie: wow, congratulations! that’s really amazing!

so I guess you’re celebrating this Friday?



Katya: yes! I hope you’ll come

Trixie placed her phone down for a moment, a sudden weariness creeping in. She decided she would reply later, and did what she meant to do a while ago - and turned her phone on silent.

*

Friday dawned a little overcast - the pale clouds were shadowing the sun, and Trixie felt like the weather was cruelly reflecting her heart. She was stood and staring out of the bedroom window, all wrapped up in her endless thoughts.

She and Willam had only made short, polite conversation since Trixie found the app. It was more of a obligation than a desire when they did speak. Trixie noticed that Willam sometimes opened her mouth, looking like she wanted to speak, but she then quickly closed it again.

The evening before, Trixie had made veggie fajitas for dinner and had slammed her extra wraps down in front of Willam, making a sharp clattering sound on the coffee table. For a very brief and fleeting moment, Willam had responded the way she normally would: “Girl, what crawled up your ass today?”

Trixie knew her feelings were justified, but her execution was somewhat childish, and she knew it. Sure she can be sweet, which is the side of her she chooses to show for most of the time, but she can also be a brat. Nobody’s perfect.

Today, her mood was dark. Her stubbornness against speaking to Willam was strong, despite her logical side knowing it would help improve the situation. Why should she initiate the conversation, though? Willam was the one in the wrong.

As if summoned by her thoughts, Trixie felt an arm snake around her middle.

“Hey,” Willam breathed against her ear, and despite herself, Trixie felt a little shiver.

“I’m mad at you,” Trixie muttered, feeling a confusing cocktail of anger, hurt, and arousal. Willam’s lips were touching her neck now, very lightly.

She felt Willam’s hands travel the length of her curves, slowly, deliberately. Trixie stifled a small gasp, closing her eyes against the bliss of a knowing touch. Willam’s mouth hovered on her shoulder, and her breath made Trixie’s hair stand on end.

“I know,” she murmured into her neck, gripping Trixie’s hips tightly. “You should show me.”

Trixie’s stomach somersaulted. She wasn’t often prone to being dominant, but something about the emotions coursing through her veins and the eagerness of Willam’s voice made her long for it.

“Get on the bed,” Trixie ordered quietly, her voice like ice. Willam didn’t move.

“Make me,” she breathed, nipping Trixie’s neck a little too hard.

Trixie’s rage began to bubble. “Willam,” she turned to face her, a serious frown on her face. Willam merely smiled at her in return.

Trixie grabbed Willam’s wrist roughly, and dragged her to the bed. She took satisfaction in the clear surprise on Willam’s face. She was stronger than she let anyone believe.

Willam pushed herself back up, testing Trixie’s patience. Trixie responded by slamming Willam against the wall of their bedroom. Willam was staring at Trixie, her breath coming in gasps. Trixie felt powerful in that moment.

She began to kiss Willam, heavily, messily, running her hands through her hair and tugging at it. Willam met Trixie’s kiss eagerly, her hands starting to roam. Trixie immediately stopped kissing her, and grasped both of her wrists. “No,” she whispered, shaking her head, before pinning both of them against the wall above Willam’s head.

After a few moments of hot, messy kissing, Trixie began to tear Willam’s clothes off. She pulled her shirt over her head rapidly, and dropped to her knees to pull down her pants. Willam was breathing heavily now, allowing Trixie to do whatever she wanted.

Trixie gazed sweetly up at Willam, her hands on Willam’s thighs. “Don’t ever forget,” Trixie murmured, as she started to litter her skin with little love-bites. “You are mine.”

*

Trixie and Willam were a messy tangle of limbs a handful of hours later. Willam’s hair was wild from Trixie’s incessant pulling, and her skin was bruised across her thighs. Trixie was spent - her anger all but gone. She wondered why she didn’t do this sooner, feeling completely satisfied as she watched the smoke from Willam’s cigarette dance in the air.

“I’m going out later,” Trixie stated simply. Willam looked over at her with slight surprise.

“Yeah? Where to?”

“Courtney’s. The Cirque are celebrating going to Chicago.”

Willam didn’t respond. She simply took a long, hard drag on her cigarette.

“Do you want to come?”

There was a pause. “Nah, I’m busy.”

The cloud of anger that had momentarily evaporated began to rise in Trixie again. “Meeting someone?”

Willam shifted uncomfortably. “No, babe. Not…like that.”

Trixie felt a trickle of guilt, which she angrily doused. “Well…I better get ready.”

She wrapped the blanket around herself and left the room - and Willam - behind.

*

Trixie was filled with apprehension as she hovered outside Courtney’s apartment. She was pleased with her outfit choice - a yellow dress that cut short, accenting her thick thighs. She spent over an hour on her make-up, dusting her eyelids with sparkling gold eye shadow and tying a yellow ribbon her hair, ‘cause dammit, she was cute.

But now she felt anxiety prickling away at her. She steeled herself to be brave - there was no other way to make friends in a new city than to actually make an effort.

The door opened and Trixie was greeted by a wave of smoke. She coughed awkwardly, squinting.

Courtney appeared once the smoke cleared, her eyes hooded with what could only be the influence of whatever they were smoking.

“Trixie, hey,” her words were drawn out slowly, and she pulled Trixie into a halfhearted hug. Trixie patted her back somewhat awkwardly in return. Willam had always been a big smoker, but it had never appealed much to Trixie.“We weren’t sure you were coming,” Courtney said, ushering her inside. “You never said.”

Trixie then realised she never did tell anyone that she was coming. She groaned.

“I’m sorry, I totally forgot.”

Courtney waved a hand dismissively. “Don’t worry about it. Everyone’s in the living room. The kitchen is over there - you can have whatever you want.”

Courtney left her then, standing like a spare part in her hallway. Trixie stepped tentatively towards where Courtney had vaguely pointed out the kitchen, which she was surprised to see was very grand.

The counter-tops were made of polished marble, and every appliance was shining brilliantly. There was a large breakfast bar with a multitude of stools around it, and fairy lights were woven into the intricate woodwork above it. Trixie gazed around in awe, like a child in a chocolate factory. Having grown up in poverty, she was completely dumbfounded by this clear presence of comfort and wealth.

She soon found an impressive stash of booze - and she pulled free a plastic cup from the precariously stacked tower. She sniggered at the image on it - dogs dressed in deerstalkers and smoking pipes.

She poured herself a vodka-heavy screwdriver, hoping to quell her nerves, and she ventured towards the living room.

The living room was beautiful - it was spacious, but still felt cosy. There was a scattering of hanging seats, bean bags, and sofas. A huge TV hung on the wall in the corner, and an even larger stereo was playing softly nearby. Like the kitchen, fairy lights were strung across the ceiling and gave the room a magical air. Trixie became acutely aware that Courtney was rich.

There were people milling around the room with drinks in hand. Some she recognised - Raja, Jay, Courtney and, oh wow, Violet, from the Cirque.

She shuffled awkwardly towards them with a shaky smile on her lips. Raja noticed her and smiled, raising their own cup in greeting. At that moment, Katya burst into the room with a crash.

“I'm here,” she yelled, throwing her arms out with emphasis. “The party can begin.”

“Don’t flatter yourself, Zamo,” Courtney grinned wickedly, and Trixie noticed she was sat between the legs of a tall, very cute boy, who was clearly as stoned as Courtney was.

“Hey, Katya,” Trixie called, vividly remembering their comforting words on the way to the Hollywood sign and back. She liked Katya. It wasn’t often that she immediately clicked with someone the way they had seemed to. Katya’s eyes lit up at the sight of her, and she bounded over. “Hey, Trixie Mattel!” Katya beamed. “I didn’t know you were coming!”

“It was kinda a last-minute decision,” she admitted with a half-smile on her lips. Katya cocked her head slightly, and Trixie was worried that she may ask why she didn’t reply when asked, but thankfully Katya turned to the group instead.

“Well, let me introduce you to everyone!” she beckoned Trixie forward. “This is Latrice, the ringmaster,” she mused enthusiastically, pointing to the incredibly heavy-set man who Trixie recognised from the show. He smiled warmly at her, giving a little wave. “You know the squad already,” she dipped her head towards Raja, Jay, and Courtney. “That’s Violet.” She pointed towards the incredibly beautiful woman Trixie had watched hanging impressively from the ceiling only a week ago. She was dressed in a dazzling purple bodysuit, her make up harsh and dark on her otherwise pretty face. She almost looked bored as she nodded at Trixie.

“That’s Milk,” Katya inclined her head to the man whose legs were wrapped around Courtney.

“Milk?” Trixie hissed, stifling a giggle.

“No one knows his real name.” Katya muttered mysteriously, her face serious.

“Is he part of the Cirque?”

“Oh, sure. He breathes fire.”

Trixie was taken aback. “Oh damn, where was he last week?”

“Sorry to miss that, were you?” Katya laughed, her head tilting backwards. “Maybe next time.”

“Alright, bitches!” Jay hollered, jumping out of their seat. Trixie almost spilled her screwdriver down herself in fright. “As the DJ and co-host, I announce that we commence…THE DRINKING GAMES.” They slammed their hand against the glass coffee table spread out amongst the beanbags.

Courtney rolled her eyes. “Sure thing, buttercup,” she shuffled comfortably against Milk, much like a cat. “but you’re still not the DJ.”

*

A handful of hours and a multitude of drinking games had passed, taking their toll on Trixie. After a revealing round of “never have I ever”, where both Trixie and Katya had lost their breath from laughing, there was a particularly dangerous round of beer-pong where Jay very nearly swallowed an entire golf ball.

Trixie was sat cross-legged on the grass outside, gazing up at the sky and squinting in concentration. Katya was leaning against the wall behind her, toking on a cigarette.

“That one had to be a shooting star,” Trixie slurred, waving her hand towards nowhere in particular. Katya barked a laugh.

“Nope, still just a satellite.” Katya had dropped to a crouch beside her.

Trixie pouted. “I want to see the stars.”

“Oh mama, you won’t see any here.” Katya took a final drag of her cigarette before flicking the end into a pot a handful of metres away.

Trixie placed her hands on Katya’s knee, and leaned closely into her, her face only inches from Katya’s. “Take me to see the stars, Katya,” she whispered, batting her eyelashes.

Katya shoved her gently away with a chuckle. “Not tonight, Tracy. You’re too drunk.”

Trixie pouted again. “Are you not?”

“I don’t drink.”

Trixie did a double-take at that. She was certain she had witnessed Katya indulge in the drinking games the same way that everyone else had done. As if she was reading her mind, Katya waved her cup beneath Trixie’s nose.

“…Orange juice.”

Katya threw her arms open, and Trixie flew backwards in surprise. “Winner, winner, chicken dinner!”

“I’m a vegetarian,” Trixie protested, now lying on her back against the grass. After a moment or two, Katya was lay beside her, her elbow propping her head up. Trixie ran a blade of glass between her fingers, and took a moment to really look at Katya.

She was wearing impressively high-heeled boots, and a very tight, dark dress. The dress clung to her curves and glittered in the light. Her hair was lying in waves, and her make-up was simple, but effective. Trixie wasn’t sure if her beer-goggles were talking, or if she truly found Katya sexy. It was a confusing thought which she quickly chased away.

“What’s that?” she asked, pointing to the stone dangling from Katya’s neck.

“Amethyst,” Katya explained, caressing the stone in her hands like it was a precious diamond. “It provides clarity when there’s confusion in the mind.”

Trixie pressed a finger to the cold, sharp stone. “I like it, ‘cause it’s purple.”

Katya chortled. “You’re funny.”

Jay burst out onto the grass, materialising from nowhere. They pirouetted around Trixie and Katya, who laughed delightedly, following them with their eyes.

“Come on, lesbians!” Jay laughed, offering their hands to the pair. “It’s time to dance.”

*

Raja and Milk had pushed the sofas back to create a makeshift dance-floor on the caramel-coloured wooden floorboards. The fairy lights were flashing all around, casting shadows of the gyrating bodies. Trixie was flushed and drunk, spinning around the floor with Jay. She was laughing so hard that she was worried she would burst a lung.

Katya interrupted her flight, taking her hand. “May I?” she asked Jay with a grin.

Katya spun her giddily into the fray of dancing, and Trixie nearly fell into Milk and Courtney, who were dancing incredibly close to each other. Courtney was almost riding Milk’s leg, and Trixie made a gagging motion at Katya, who bent over with a wheezing laugh.

Katya then began to dance. She was really very talented at it, Trixie thought, watching her gracefully twist her body to the beat. After a moment, she grasped Trixie by the waist, and danced closely to her. Trixie gasped, her cheeks flushed. She had lost count of the screwdrivers she had knocked back, and the vile concoction Jay had passed around earlier. She began to feel a warm dizziness spread through her body as she allowed Katya to weave her dancing spell on her.

Trixie felt a second hand on her other hip, and she bent her head to see who it belonged to.

She gawped, taking a few moments to recognise Willam’s contorted face against the glaring lights. She laughed delightedly, throwing her arms around her.

“Where did you come from?” Trixie slurred, nuzzling drunkenly into Willam’s neck.

“I wanted to see you,” Willam purred, caressing Trixie’s head with a knowing touch. Trixie had a welcome flashback of their heated sex earlier, but she had fully resumed her submissive status and leaned blissfully into Willam.

“Katya, look who’s here!” Trixie exclaimed, glancing around for Katya. It took a few seconds for Trixie to realise that Katya had gone.

*

Trixie stood in the kitchen with Willam, her arms wrapped delicately around Trixie’s waist. They were having a moment to themselves after the frenzy of the dancing in the living room.

“So where did you go tonight?” Trixie breathed, leaning into Willam. Her hot anger had again abated, and she simply enjoyed being tangled up in her girlfriend.

“Oh you know,” Willam murmured, her lips pressing against Trixie’s neck. “Around.”

Trixie laughed softly, tilting her head back to meet Willam in a kiss. It was then that her ignorance was broken by the sight of a huge mark on Willam’s neck.

“What’s that?” Trixie frowned.

Willam raised an eyebrow, looking at Trixie lazily. “What’s what?”

Trixie backed away, her eyes swimming in and out of focus. “On your neck.”

Willam shook her head. “Low flying bats? Come on, Trix. You bit chunks out of me earlier.”

Trixie’s frown deepened. She may be drunk, but like hell was she stupid. “I didn’t bite your neck.”

“For fuck sake, Trixie.” Willam crossed her arms, her defences rising.

“Did you meet someone tonight?” Trixie asked, her eyes bearing into Willam’s. “And don’t lie to me, Willam.”

“So fine, I met someone,” Willam’s voice was raising. “Sue me.”

Trixie gaped at Willam, hurt and rage crashing together inside her.

Willam must have noticed Trixie’s trembling lip, because she changed her tone quite suddenly. “Listen,” her words escaped her with a sigh. “I can explain.”

“I don’t want to hear it.” Trixie choked, hot tears extorting her vision.

It was then that Trixie felt eyes on her. She turned towards the kitchen door and her gaze fell on a bewildered Katya, hovering uncertainly.

“Um,” she said, scratching the back of her head. “I didn’t mean to-”

Trixie burst into tears then, her body crumpling to the floor like paper on fire. Willam immediately stepped towards her, but Trixie waved her away between heaving sobs.

“No, Willam,” she gasped, tears running down her face. “I want you to leave.”

Willam’s eyes were darkened with misery, and Trixie felt her heart ache. She watched Willam walk away, her body hunched over in defeat. Katya stepped aside wordlessly to let Willam pass.

Trixie’s sobs were easing to a hiccup, though her chest felt like it was being beaten with invisible fists. She felt a soft hand on her head, and she gazed up through blurry eyes at a kindly Katya.

“Hey,” Katya whispered, crouching to her level. “You can stay here, if you want. I was crashing in the spare room, but I’ll take the sofa. Come on.”

Trixie had no energy to argue, or really, any energy to do anything. She allowed Katya to lead her through the maze of the apartment until they settled inside a small bedroom. Trixie looked around numbly.

“Will you stay?” Trixie whispered. “For a while?”

Katya nodded. Trixie threw herself onto the bed in a twisted heap, and Katya perched on the edge. Trixie wriggled up to her, leaning her head against Katya’s thigh.

Trixie felt Katya’s fingers start to stroke her hair. She closed her eyes for a moment, feeling comforted.

“I need to get away,” she mumbled, her eyes still closed. Katya’s fingers paused on her scalp.

“Come to Chicago,” Katya breathed.

Trixie’s eyes fluttered open. Yes. She would go to Chicago.

***