𝐞𝐯𝐚𝐧 𝐩𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬 ♥

bow down

the usual sunday routine of lounging around in bed while scrolling through her phone, looking for something to entertain herself with, was nothing out of the ordinary for ryley. there were no chirping birds nor was there a bright, beaming light shining through the curtained window adjacent to her california king. it wasn't a lighthearted fairy tale with a princess, yearning to be rescued by a wonderful prince who could not give any less of a fuck about her ambition as a woman and instead chooses to give her marriage as an escape route from her boring, dark, monotonous life. but, enough with the exaggeration.

in other words, ryley didn't have shit to do. she never did on sundays, particularly. albeit, she chose to lie in bed all day without contacting her dear friends or family. she could at least get up and eat some food. it was past noon and she hadn't eaten yet.

ping!

speak of the devil. ryley's phone pinged in her hands, shaking her out of her droning thoughts and- holy shit. she sat up quickly and looked incredulously at the number in her paypal account. holy fuck, was she seeing this correctly? quickly, she rubbed her eyes a couple times, blinked, then pinched her arm hard. she jumped at the force of her own pinch. she pinched herself so hard, it drew blood. yeah, this was fucking real.

fucking shit, there was $750.38 in her bank right now; when the fuck did she get that much?

she clicked on the bell icon in the corner of her screen and sure enough, someone had sent her the money. from t4t3lang.94. apparently. well, whoever this guy is, he's fucking generous because now ryley had a reason to get up today.

the girl hopped out of bed so fast, her iron deficiency kicked in. the black spots she saw didn't stop her from grabbing a towel and rushing to the bathroom. as quickly as she got in, she came out just as quickly. brushing her teeth and washing her face went by a million times faster than ever before. soon, ryley stood in front of her closet. what should i wear to the mall? she contemplated her options with a thinking finger tapping her chin like a wise old man.

one on hand, there was a mesh turtleneck top that said "heaven-sent" on the collar on top of a checkered cami with her pink button skirt and black platforms. then there was a neon green shirt that was hanging there for a while. that could go with her ripped boyfriend jeans and iridescent sandals.

this was going to take a while.

-

"sugar" by brockhampton played soothingly in ryley's headphones as she strolled through the mall. with her afro puffs bouncing and her bank account full, she roamed quietly around the beautiful mall. her first stop was going to be forever 21, hoping for a nice, fat sale on their jeans. ryley had every intention of snatching those good deals right out of their hands so quickly, their whiplash would have whiplash.

her manicured hands skimmed through the racks of overpriced jeans, she was hoping that there would be a few 16's left since it seemed every other girl wore her damn size. then ryley felt multiple ominous presences standing behind her, sort of staring at her ass. she couldn't count exactly how many, but there were at least 3. one of them standing the closest considered himself the leader, that was an obvious guess. she took out one of her earbuds and turned to see that–surprise, surprise she was right. the leader was in front of 4 other guys, so the count was a little off. they all looked pretty stereotypical: there were a couple of tiktok-looking e-boys and the frat boy from down the street (literally, ryley grew up with him on the same block). then, there were the two prep boys with sweaters around their necks—it was fucking 93 degrees in the middle of september. also, what the fuck were they doing in the plus-size section anyway?

"how you doin', sweetheart? find something you fancy, huh?" the dirty blonde in the leather moto jacket and slacks smirked, somehow brimming with confidence as if he didn't just stand there gawking and burning holes into her back creepily beforehand. she only rolled her eyes lazily, turning her attention back to the racks of jeans. she had finally found a pair of distressed ones that were her size. cuffed at the bottom and light-wash denim. a total 90's vibe that would go well with a mock neck sweater and some doc martens. she could pull off a boy meets world type of style.