☁️: oh my goodness yawl.
______
Clean isn't permanent, but rather an assured constant; assured only with an occasional scrub or quick cleanse. Minnie had maintained sanity and hygiene all on her own for a couple of months now, and the winter crept up on her anxiety like a jump-scare. She loved the season, don't get me wrong.
However, December is now and her album is December... need I say more?
It's not at all that she isn't proud of her work because she certainly is. There's just that all consuming fear that everyone and their dog is going to be underwhelmed with her work and thus deem her a... dare I say it, 'flop.'
That would always be a fear, wouldn't it? God, life would be great if she was a pre-established artist... like Harry Styles or Taylor Swift. People anticipate their releases... and sure, there were many that were actively excited for Minnie's album but there's no confirmation that it'll be good. With Harry or Taylor, you just know it's going to knock you off your fucking rocker. With Minnie, yes, Minnie, who can barely utter her own last name anymore, well... nobody knows for sure. Nobody.
Well, except for Dan and Niall.
Okay, maybe this isn't that large of a worry then.
Minnie thought hard on this as she sealed the last of her listening party invitations. It would take place in some skyscraper in New York. No, it's not convenient for one of the biggest nights of her life to be held across the country from her home, but her label incessantly insisted... because it'll be cold and snowy and blah blah blah. Whatever.
They'll do anything for aesthetics, I guess.
She peered down at the seemingly endless pile of envelopes on her bedroom floor, cross checking the list she had of names.
"Okay, we have Dan, Lewis, Niall, ...Liv, uhhhh Harry, Taylor..." She muttered to herself as she took a glance at the blacklist... of a mere two names; Shawn and... Mom.
Sure, there was uncertainty in the attendance of the names on the invite list, but there was absolute certainty in the absence of the names on the block list. Cute.
Minnie had been driving back from the post office (yes, she wanted to personally send out the invitations... something about trust issues) when she received a call from Niall, which had recently become routine. Niall got bored a lot, and when he got bored, he started making calls. Minnie... well, she just happened to be at the top of his caller list.
"Hey-" She began.
"So who's it about, then? The album?"
Honestly, she's surprised it's taken him this long to ask.
"Wow, I don't even get a 'Hi?'"
"We're far past greetings, love. Now spill."
She allowed for silence, awaiting the realization to make its appearance.
"Don't tell me it's Rodrigo."
Minnie giggled.
"It is Rodrigo?! Fuck, I owe Lewis 50 bucks!"
Her laughter had died down when she began to suspect the motivation behind his question.
"Why did you want to know?"
"Well one, because I made a stupid bet with Lewis. Two, because I was curious myself, and Threeee... you didn't think I wasn't gonna recognize that title, did ya?"
"Ah, so you caught the reference." Minnie was over the moon.
The title of her album is... drumroll please...
