Girlies Crew

[skeletee]

Lola had received a mysterious message from [REDACTED], asking for a meeting. Naturally, Lola agreed , but when she asked who they were, the reply was, “I can’t disclose that information.” ‍ Ugh, men and their cryptic energy. Still, with [REDACTED] being an old friend, Lola felt comfortable enough to set a time and date . But of course, last minute, he canceled and sent an address instead. Was this a date or a side quest? Were the Girlies about to get stood up?

Lola, being ever-cautious (and nosey), mentioned this meeting to a cartel member . Intrigued, he decided to mask up and join the Girlies for the ride. They rolled up to the address—a mansion —but surprise, surprise, no VIP service or open gates to greet them. Rude. Lola, always extra, huffed, climbed the wall , and counted 17 cars. Someone HAD to be home. Moments later, a member of the group approached, and Lola sheepishly admitted she’d trespassed and was now stuck on the other side of the gate. Oops?

Once the Girlies were finally invited in, they stood in the backyard , exchanging apologies about lateness (Lola had canceled a nail appointment for this, btw ). The group introduced themselves as “BLACK CORP,” which sounded very villain chic. As another member joined the meeting, Hayden’s flirt radar immediately went off, and her eyes did a little wandering .

When BLACK CORP asked about the Girlies’ business ventures, what better way to explain than a field trip to THE G SPOT? Everyone piled into their cars and headed straight to HQ, where they continued chatting. But then, the BLACK CORP leader walked in. The air got THICK . Tense stares all around—until Hayden, ever the charmer , cracked a joke and earned the tiniest smile from him. Score.

After wrapping up the convo, the Girlies thanked BLACK CORP for the invite . The cartel member unmasked himself to stay behind and network, while the Girlies stepped outside to gossip (duh). Now… about that nail appointment…

[skeletee]

 

The Los Santos Christmas Market was calling, and you KNOW the Girlies had to answer! We hit the stage with a performance to honor Jingle Bell Rock à la Mean Girls—but with a twist only we could deliver. Midway through? BOOM, a seamless transition into a WAP x Toxic remix that had the crowd gagged and the snow melting.

But we didn’t stop there, babe. We set up a Meet & Greet stand, signing autographs and snapping pics with our amazing fans—because what’s Christmas without the Girlies spreading their chaotic cheer? We our supporters, and you made the night unforgettable. Stay slaying, Los Santos!

Edited January 6, 2025 by skeletee

[Kimmy]

The Girlies are performers, creatives, and straight-up icons, but what are icons without their own multimedia HQ to werk and gossip in?  The squad drove all over Los Santos, scoping out spots, but Lola had the location in mind. The second Hayden laid eyes on it, she knew—this was it.

They brought the rest of the Girlies to check it out, and duh, it was love at first sight. Like, the moment they stepped inside? Already theirs. Tyrone got the paperwork going with a monthly payment contract (don’t ask how we’re affording it... yet). But c’mon, a property this good? No way we were letting it slip. The Girlies signed on the dotted line, and Hayden and Livvy got straight to werk making it fab. The G-Spot HQ is officially locked in, babe. Watch this space. 

[skeletee]

[Livvy]

 

The girlies were absolutely thriving, living their best lives and making money and they were so back in their element with cooking. Livvy, Lola, Natalia, Jules, and their new baddie guard Luca were ready for another round of turning the kitchen into a little cash factory. As always, they slipped into their usual rhythm—chatting, gossiping, and dishing on the latest tea about love and life all while not judging each other, because honestly, who had the time?

 

But as they were nearing the end of their sophisticated little cooking session, a guy in grey just appeared out of nowhere, looking all serious and trying to ruin their vibe. Like, seriously? Was he lost or something?

 

Unfortunately, the man was way more on point than Livvy, and before she could even bat an eyelash, bang—she dropped like a hot mess. Classic, right? That shot sent her straight to the ground, and the whole vibe just turned into chaos.

As if that wasn't enough, sirens blared and swarmed in, like a whole symphony of trouble.

The girlies who were still standing—barely—had no choice but to hightail it out of there, heels clicking in a mad scramble. Can’t have the cops ruining the vibe, right?

 

The police stormed onto [REDACTED], swooping in like they were trying to catch some criminals in a bad reality show. They snagged up Livvy and Jules, patched them up at the hospital (because obviously, girl, you can’t just let them bleed out), then took them in for questioning.

 

But like, what were they even gonna say? There was no evidence, nothing concrete. So, after all the drama, Livvy and Jules waltzed right out of there on a technicality. Classic move, honestly. No one can catch a baddie when she’s got the perfect alibi.

[Mysterypigforeva]

[Kimmy]

Livvy and Hayden teamed up to slay the G-Spot renovations and design, and once it was done, baby, it was a masterpiece! The final touches? A gallery of their most iconic events and a glowing G-Spot sign by the entrance because how else will they know they’ve arrived? But hold up it wasn’t all wrapped up just yet. The Girlies still had to pay it off. Over the next few weeks, they rallied donations from their most loyal stans the real ones who owed the Girlies for helping them find the G-Spot in the first place. Finally, with one last bag dropped by Lewis Langley (shoutout to the legend), the G-Spot was officially paid off! No more contracts, no more stress the G-Spot was ALL theirs.

[Mysterypigforeva]

[skeletee]

 

THE GIRLIES BOOKED ANOTHER GIG, BABY! Soooo, guess who called us up? None other than Vince Williams—aka GRAMPS GIRLIE —wanting us to shoot an ad for The Ape Store. And his ONLY request? "Make it like an Ice Spice music video." Oh, BET. We pulled up FULL GLAM, FULL ATTITUDE, ready to shake ass in the name of capitalism . Cameras flashing, cash flying, monkey masks everywhere??? IDK what we filmed, IDK what we signed, but all I know is The Ape Store is now the sexiest business in Los Santos. PERIOD. #GirliesTakeOver #IceSpiceMeetsBusinessCasual #GrampsGotTaste The Girlies DEMANDED their fave videographer, the icon, the legend, Harry Forde, to work his magic on this masterpiece —and BABY, did he DELIVER. Cinematic excellence, booty angles, lighting on point. Harry, we are soooo sorry you had to hear the same Ice Spice song on repeat for HOURS, but let’s be real… you still ate that up and left no crumbs.

Edited February 5, 2025 by skeletee

[Chel]

 

Alert. The girlies have SERIOUS beef with SD. And by serious, I mean DEFAMATION AND IMPERSONATION, BABE. Like... Do y'all even know who you're messing with? Not only are they out here stealing our brand, but they dont even look good in pink. Tragic. So, Obviously, after an emergency viewing of Legally Blonde at the G-Spot (because Elle Woods is our Spiritual leader), we knew we had to end this nonsense. Enter: the cease and desist -crafted with the perfect balance of legal jargon and "get a life, loser." Dressed in our cutest outfits (because if you're gonna serve legal docs, you better serve LEWKS too), we jumped in the car and drove SO AGGRESSIVELY to SD in Sandy. Windows down, "Boss B*tch" blasting, main character energy at MAXIMUM CAPACITY. And when we arrived? oh honey, the looks on their faces. The stuttering. The realization that they f*cked with the WRONG girlies. You could literally hear the panic behind those cheap knockoff sunglasses. So, SD... consider yourself legally SERVED. You wanna play copycat? Try harder, babe. The Queen Bees run this town and you're just another tragic side character in our story. See you in court, imposters. XOXO, the Real Girlies

Edited February 9, 2025 by Michelle_Carlson

[Mysterypigforeva]

Edited February 10, 2025 by Mysterypigforeva

[Mysterypigforeva]

Edited February 14, 2025 by Mysterypigforeva

[Kimmy]

It’s been way too long since the girlies threw their own event. Normally, they’re busy stealing the spotlight at someone else’s party. But after a month of endless snow and winter-induced gloom? Yeah, absolutely not. Hayden decided it was time to snap out of it with nothing less than a pool party. And honestly, what could be better? Exactly. Nothing. The second she pitched the idea to the girlies, it was go time. First up: securing a venue. And who better to call than their resident baddieguard, Luca? Obviously. After checking out a few places, they landed on a public pool cute, but not quite the level of luxury they deserved.  Time to call in reinforcements: Nea from Plagues Inc. Planning mode: activated. Just as everything was falling into place, Hayden’s phone buzzed. A text from Soap one of the ticket-selling queens handling the raffle. Turns out, she had just spoken to the owners of Pacific Bluffs, and, babe… they had an offer the girlies could NOT refuse. A quick meeting later, some smooth negotiations (possibly a cheeky discount?), and boom deal sealed, private pool secured. Talk about a slay.

A luxury pool alone wasn’t going to cut it this event needed to be next-level They needed a DJ to keep the vibes immaculate, staff to cater to the moment, and security to keep the riff-raff in check. And with a whole beach sitting pretty right behind the pool? Jet skis were non-negotiable. Actually, why stop there? Let’s raffle one off because nothing gets people running like the chance to flex on the water. And if luck’s on their side, they might even have some extra cash left for a little shopping spree. Now that is how you throw an event. .

With the unstoppable combo of Plagues Inc., Nea, and the dynamic DJ duo JJ and Sammie, the luxury pool party was nothing short of legendary. The atmosphere was absolutely electric, with music pulsing through the air and guests dancing like there was no tomorrow. Laughter, splashes, and clinking glasses filled the space as everyone soaked up the perfect mix of luxury and fun. The drinks were flowing, the energy was contagious, and every single guest was living their absolute best life. Of course, no real party is complete without a little drama because what’s an iconic event without a bit of chaos? A few unexpected moments only added to the excitement, making the night even more unforgettable. But at the end of the day, the girlies could sit back, soak in their success, and revel in the fact that they had pulled off an event people would be talking about for weeks. The energy? Unmatched. The memories? One for the books. This was the definition of a party done right.

[skeletee]

[Nea Kay]

O. M. F. G. What. A. Day.  So, I pulled up to the G-Spot, and THE GIRLIES?? BABE… they were serving CUTEST rehearsal lewks ever. Like, model off-duty but make it performance-ready.  They were getting prepped for their next SLAY at the Plague Inc Hibachi opening—iconic, I know. And since it was my first time meeting them, we did a lil’ intro sesh before heading to the studio. BUT THEN??? The Girlies invited ME to dance with them. SCREAMING.  I won’t lie, I was nervous AF, but then I was like… hold on, this is my destiny. And OBVIOUSLY, we nailed the choreo first try. Because perfection recognizes perfection. 

[2:23 PM]
Fast forward, we got snatched into our performance fits and made our way to Hibachi Heaven. David Theangel (literal A-LIST LEGEND) showed up and offered to be our bodyguard. Like duh, of course he did. The demand for us is CRAZY, security is a necessity. We got a front-row VIP table and were served by their TOP-TIER hibachi chef—but then it was SHOWTIME. And BABYYYY, we ate. We devoured. We LEFT NO CRUMBS. The crowd was SCREAMING. The Girlies? Untouchable. 
[2:24 PM]
BUT WAIT. Y’all thought that was it? HUN, NO.  Because OF COURSE some drama had to pop off. Earlier that day, we caught the Sheriff’s Department LITERALLY IMPERSONATING US. Dressed AS US arresting people??? DEFAMATION!?? What if they arrested a fan?? ACTUAL LAWSUIT BEHAVIOR. So, we checked them REAL QUICK. But THEN… they had the AUDACITY to show up at the event… in ALL PINK… ACTING LIKE US. FANGIRL BEHAVIOR AT ITS PEAK. Embarrassing. 
[2:24 PM]
And you’d THINK that was the last of the obsessed freaks. BUT NO. A day or so after the event, some rats were harassing Alice. So naturally, when these weirdos jumped into Lola & Alice’s car to continue being MENACES, Lola did what any self-respecting baddie would do—revved the engine & drove them to a lil’... private meet-up.  Waiting for them? Jules & Luca, fully locked & loaded.  One got shaved, the other got put to sleep forever.  And OBV, Lola whipped out her phone and made a quick TikTok for the close friends list—because content is king. 

Moral of the story? The Girlies run this city, the ops stay obsessed, and I need a nap.  TTYL, bitches! 

Edited March 4, 2025 by Nea Kay

[DaMasterSplinter]

Check out their video on the MNC thread!

 

The Girlies were just vibing, cruising down the highway, when suddenly—OMG—out of nowhere, a whole convoy of white supercars sped past them! Like, excuse me?? Where y’all going without us?! Without hesitation, the Girlies hit the gas and joined the convoy, swerving through traffic like the queens they are. When the convoy finally pulled into a gas station to refuel, the Girlies rolled up in style, stepping out like they owned the place. One thing led to another, and BOOM! The Girlies got INVITED to join The Midnight Club for a race! OMG STOPPP!! Of course, we HAD to say yes. Duh.

 

But just when things were getting cute, SD decided to ruin the vibe by following us. Like, hello? Are y’all lost? Go fight crime or something. Anyway, Khuless, our KING, took one for the team and slowed them down by casually driving hella slow in front of them. He was really out here holding the line like a true legend. So selfless, so iconic.

Once we got back into the city, things got serious. The SD really thought they could keep up with us, so they brought out their high-speed units like it was about to do something. LMAO SO DOWN BAD. The Girlies cackled as we hopped into our own supercars because, baby, we were BORN for this.

And just like that—IT. WAS. ON.

The race was absolute chaos. Donuts in the streets, engines roaring, cops losing their minds. It was SO crazy and exciting! The Girlies, of course, were SLAYING behind the wheel. We evaded the cops FOUR TIMES because duh, we’re literally that good.
At one point, we all dipped into the tunnel, waiting for Lukaa to pass so we could slow the cops down and mess with them some more. TEEHEE. We were literally outplaying them at every turn—like, at this point, were they chasing us to arrest us or to get our autographs?

But THEN—OMFG—SD went FULL unhinged mode. One of their deputies actually pulled a GUN on Gramps! Like, what in the delusional behavior was THAT?! Jules saw that negative energy from a mile away and said “Not on MY watch.” He floored it, slammed into that man, and sent him FLYING through his windshield, flipping in the air like a ragdoll. OOP! Consider that karma.

 

But at the end of the day, we saved Gramps from that crazy SD deputy, slayed the race, and had the BEST night ever with our Midnight Club besties. We love them sm!!! Can’t wait for the next one.

[skeletee]

 Fresh off the stage, still glowing from the spotlight, Gramps (AKA Vince) pulls Lola aside like it’s some urgent business. A meeting? Umm, side eye. But okay, we’ll bite. The Girlies rally up and sashay over to The Pink Sandwich Club, heading straight to the VIP second-floor seating—because obviously, we don’t do general admission. At the table? Gramps, Seth & Rocky. And babes, the convo took a TURN. First, Gramps casually mentions that they wanna turn the club into a brothel. UM. THIS BETTER NOT BE THE BUSINESS TALK. We let them ramble, but trust, we were ready to leave.

THEN, the real talk begins. Seth, usually not the sentimental type, actually starts PRAISING US. Talking about how The Girlies have been making waves, shaking the streets, and leaving an impact. Okay, finally, some recognition! But then?? He drops the REAL bombshell. The Girlies are getting into the arms game. Not just ANY guns—SMALL. CUTE. CLUTCH-FRIENDLY. PURSE-PERFECT. Glocks that match our lip gloss, pristols fit in our mini Dior saddle bags.

 

We gagged. We squealed. We accepted.

 

BUT THEN? One more thing. TURF.

 

The Girlies have had their eyes locked on The G-Spot for a while now, specifically a HOT merchant named Lotta Fagina. She’s got that Girlies energy, she belongs with US. But… here’s the issue—Milestone’s got a grip on it.

Soooo… what’s next? We’ve got options. We’ve got ambition. And trust, when The Girlies want something… THEY GET IT. Moves will be made. Bags will be secured. And turf? Soon to be OURS.

[Chel]

 

 

On a fine, glamorous night at the hibachi, the Girlies were serving looks and performances as always, slaying the stage effortlessly. Suddenly, they were approached by Gramps and his partners, who, for once, had some manners and actually thanked the Girlies for their influence over the city and the gangs. Period. No small talk, no chit-chat—Gramps got straight to business. He decided it was time to expand operations with the best in the game (obviously us ). And just like that, the Girlies were granted the power to take over a turf and smuggle some goods. YAY! BUT hold up—where exactly would we establish our influence? Because apparently, the Milestone Rogues, aka the so-called “Producers,” had taken over Rooks' turf... which just so happens to be where our iconic G Spot is at! The audacity. So, like the proactive queens we are, the Girlies held a quick, chic emergency meeting and decided to go straight to Milestone for a little chat. We wasted no time and pulled up to their dusty little movie studio , where we spotted some low-ranking Rogues lurking around. Of course, we walked up with poise and asked them to call a high command because, let’s be real, we do not deal with the extras. But can you believe these low ranks actually had the nerve to question us?! Like, hello?? Since when do the interns get to interrogate the CEOs? So unprofessional. After entertaining their nonsense, they finally did what we originally asked and called a high command—duh? Shortly after, a HC finally arrived. But just as we were about to get into it, paparazzi in a damn heli showed up trying to snap pics of the Girlies. The price of being celebrities, ugh. Frustrating. We decided to relocate to the G Spot to continue our discussion in peace. Surprisingly, the HC was actually chill and understood our request: We wanted the turf where the G Spot is, period. He explained that he needed to discuss it with their Leader first, which was totally understandable (for now). So, the Girlies gracefully escorted the Rogues out, said our goodbyes, and waited for the meeting day. And then? A flop moment. The day of the meeting arrived, we got into our fabulous cars, and pulled up... only to be met with nothing. No Milestone in sight. Like, HELLO?! You set a time and then don’t show up? We were livid. Standing out in the cold for more than ten minutes? OUTRAGEOUS. Disrespectful. We obviously took it as a sign of incompetence and went searching for them ourselves. After a whole hour or two, we finally got our meeting. We were invited into their so-called “studio” and, let me tell you, it was giving... empty and ugly. Like, how are you gonna invite the Girlies somewhere so hideous? Tragic. Anyway, we cut to the chase and laid out what we wanted, but suddenly, the Producers decided to start monologuing about their so-called achievements and the hard work they put into securing the turf. Girl, please. We know the only reason they have it is because the Rooks stopped caring. Let’s not rewrite history. But it’s fine, they can make an action movie about it or something. Jules, being the strategic baddie that he is, offered them a reasonable deal. The night before, he had scoped out another turf, just across from City Hall, with the exact same dealers. He proposed a simple swap: They move their business there, and we take the G Spot. Fair, right? But these so-called “Producers” acted like they didn’t understand. They kept repeating, “But what do we gain from this?” over and over, like a damn broken record. Like, babe, it’s a swap, nothing changes for you. But nope, their tiny producer brains couldn’t compute. At this point, Alice—the baddest bitch of the Girlies—had had enough. She shut it down real quick, firm and clear: “If you’re not gonna give it to us, we’ll take it by any means necessary.” Silence. Complete silence. The Girlies were cheering inside because Alice was slaying that moment. The producer looked shook—like, oh? You thought we were just cute and fabulous? Sweetie, we will stomp you with our heels if needed. Tensions rose real quick. It was obvious Milestone didn’t want to play nice. First, they made us wait in the cold, then they talked down to us like we were supposed to comply? Absolutely not. This is the Girlies, not some ordinary organization. It was clear things weren’t going to be resolved that night, but oh, it did not end there. While we were handling business inside, our baddie guard Luca (who always slays, btw) was at the door when guess who arrived? The Lost MC cuties, led by Leo and his right hand. And then? The moment happened. As the wife producer walked out to greet them, she had the nerve to say, “Ugh, the Girlies are inside, give me hand sanitizer.” EXCUSE ME?! Luca clocked her immediately and was like, “Oh, that’s awkward now, isn’t it?” The tension? IMMACULATE. To make things even juicier, Milestone had no idea that Leo, the fabulous leader of Lost MC, is actually Hayden’s cousin. Oh, the drama! The Girlies decided it was time to bounce since Milestone clearly wasn’t ready to act right. Jules wrapped it up and told them we’re done here. The Producer then said they’d get back to us on Wednesday with their final response. Whatever happens next? The Girlies are ready.

[Sarahh]

 

The Girlies were not about to sit around and wait—patience may be a virtue, but revenge is so much more satisfying.  Every day, they checked in with the dealers, working their charm and negotiating like the business-savvy divas they are. At first, the dealers seemed delighted by the Girlies’ presence, especially since Milestone wasn’t even supplying them with drugs. But then... Wednesday arrived. The day of the awaited response. And yet? Crickets.

Like, really? They call themselves Producers, yet the Girlies had produced more ads, more movies, and more action than them!  But did the Girlies rest? Absolutely not. Instead, they started reaching out to other organizations, looking for allies, connections, and new business opportunities. And let me tell you, some of these organizations met with the Girlies in secret—offering their support, and most importantly, their drugs. Why? Because it was obvious: The Girlies were about to start a turf war. 

Day by day, tensions rose. And by Friday, the situation shifted. As per usual, Jules went to talk to the dealers, but this time? They refused to listen. Suspicious. Jules, being the sharp king he is, knew immediately—Milestone had finally decided to sell them drugs. Oh, so now you care? The betrayal was real.

Furious, Operation Pink Vendetta was put into motion.  Jules reached out to Hayden, and together, they began sorting out the good stuff. Shortly after, Luca and Natalia joined, and the crew went in hard, selling a huge amount of drugs to the dealers. And just like that? The dealers became Girlies stans. YAY! 

But this night? It would mark the beginning of the war.

The Girlies rolled up in their shiny pink cars, looking absolutely iconic, as they began guarding the turf, making sure no one—and I mean no one—dared to step through. Jules, always the showstopper, was cruising around on his BMX, casually keeping a sawed-off shotgun hidden in his bike bag.  The Producers? Not ready for this. Hihi.

Shortly after, Milestone finally showed up. And guess who pulled up? The so-called big Producer himself. He parked next to Jules and, in his most dramatic voice, asked, “Is this your move then?”

Jules? Smirked. “You made this happen.”

Like, duh. The Girlies tried to solve this peacefully, but communication is key, and Milestone flopped on that front. I literally dumped my last boyfriend because of his poor communication skills, so why would I tolerate it from them? 

The Producer? Pressed.

Jules, being the diplomatic icon he is, responded sincerely: “I didn’t want to resort to this, but the disrespect and ignoring our request forced me to take action.” Milestone tried throwing some empty threats, but Jules? Unbothered. He knows how to handle this kind of behavior. The Girlies regrouped and made it crystal clear: No Milestone would be allowed to speak to the dealers. PERIOD.

And then? Milestone tried to play intimidation games. A 4-stacked Jugular pulled up, and they started circling the area, watching the Girlies with absolute disgust. As if.  They eventually approached and started talking, but the Girlies simply informed the Producer and his wife that this was a direct response to their disrespect.

And then? One of Milestone’s little underlings tried to sneak in. Big mistake. Jules, swift as ever, sped down the stairs on his BMX and blocked the little rat from getting closer. And can you believe the audacity? HELLO?! On the other side, the Producer was screaming over the radio, telling his little minion to leave the subway.

Hayden, the queen she is, quickly informed Jules over the radio: Don’t point a gun at him, the Producer’s wife requested it. Jules, being the understanding king that he is, complied. But that didn’t mean backing down. He simply pulled out his shotgun, standing firmly next to the dealer. Unbothered. Untouchable. Unstoppable.

Looking the minion dead in the eye, he stated clearly: “I won’t harm you. That’s not what I want. But you need to leave.”

And guess what? The minion ran.

But then? The Producer himself tried to sneak in through the other entrance. Jules? Not having it. He immediately went after him and stated once again: “I’m not here to harm anyone. But I will take any necessary action to stop you from talking to the dealer.”

And with that, the Girlies secured the turf.  They held their ground for as long as they could, knowing damn well that the moment they rested, those little Milestone fries would come back, trying to force the dealers back onto their side.

But the Girlies? They weren’t giving up.

This was WAR. And they were ready to fight until the end. 

Edited March 16, 2025 by Sarahh

[Livvy]

Edited March 21, 2025 by Livvy

[YuSoHelpful]

[skeletee]

Edited March 25, 2025 by skeletee

[Mysterypigforeva]

[skeletee]

 

 

Dear Diary,

So. Me and Collie “Pookie” Fegan go back like synthetic wigs and bad decisions. Five years of history, trauma bonding, and the occasional commercial wedding. We even fake-married in a motorsports ad once—art, honestly. Would’ve preferred to say “I do” in the backlot of the butcher’s, next to the bins and the dreams I’ve left behind. But whatever, branding is branding.

Now here’s the tea, diary: Collie is playing the longest game of “I’m not obsessed with you” that I have ever seen. Like, sir. Be serious. I’m literally the human embodiment of temptation in a halter top. And yet he’s still out here pretending we’re not soul-tied by fate, lust, and light arson.

Anyway, plot twist of the century: he files a restraining order against me. I mean? What? Me? A danger? Just because I “allegedly” cornered him at a car show with a decorative knife to demand we have a mature adult conversation about our future? Ok, and? That was literally me setting boundaries.

The convo was giving Nicholas Sparks with a concussion—sunset vibes, light coercion, deep eye contact. I ask him, “Is it so wrong to want you every millisecond of every hour of every day forever?” Reasonable! Romantic! And he hits me with, “You’re insane.” Um, I’m not insane, I’m committed. Anyway, BlackCorp pulls up mid-heart-to-heart with a gun pointed at me like it’s intervention o’clock. Collie makes a dramatic escape on a bike (rude), and I’m left holding nothing but heartbreak and my knife.

Cut to: my number one fan (and occasional chaos goblin) David theAngel says he’s got something serious to tell me. I’m thinking maybe a secret twin, or I won an award. No—he tells me someone paid him to kill me. Honestly? Flattered. Fame confirmed. He’s like, “Let’s fake your death.” I’m like, “Slay. But cut me in on the profit.” We meet at the graveyard, I’m serving funeral but make it fashion, and this man sets me on fire. Like I’m the birthday candle of his dreams.

I bash him, he stabs me—full telenovela. I’m running, screaming for backup like I’m in a couture horror film. Hayden’s chasing him, David’s chasing me, I’m bleeding and serving face. Eventually, the girlies swoop in like the angels of vengeance they are, and drag me to the G-Spot to recover.

We’re sat there, bruised, confused, but still stunning. Hayden gasps—Collie Fegan. Gag. Shock. Horror. The math is mathing. But like... only 100k for my head? That’s what you’d pay for a used Kia and I’m not giving used Kia energy. I’m insulted, yet still obsessed.

Now we’ve got a David problem. He’s still out for blood, so the girlies mobilise like Barbie had a militia. We get the call—he wants a chat at the scrapyard. Luca scouts, and boom: bullets from a bush. Classic. The girlies descend, wings out, claws ready. We catch him, because obviously. But we don’t kill him. Not yet.

We drag him to the beach. Calm. Picturesque. We check his phone—classic villain mistake—and he admits it. It was Collie. Our jaws? On the sand. The betrayal? Biblical.

And David? Still trying to claim this wasn’t personal. So when we pulled that firing squad on him? We told him the same thing.
“It’s not personal, babe.”
Bang.

Anyway, I’m healing. Spiritually. Physically. Emotionally. And next time I see Collie? We’re really getting married.

Xoxo,
Lola Devalera // G.THOTTY
Currently alive, unfortunately.

Edited April 8, 2025 by skeletee

[skeletee]

 

Edited April 11, 2025 by skeletee