❈•≫────≪•◦ ԼƖƓӇƬƧ ƛƦЄ ƬƲƦƝЄƊ ƠƑƑ, MƲƧƖƇ ƖƧ ƠƝ, MƖƝƊƧ ƛƦЄ ƲƝԼƠƇƘЄƊ, ƬӇƖƧ ƑЄЄԼƖƝƓ ƖƧ ƛMƛȤƖƝƓ, ӇƛƝƊƧ ƠƝ ƳƠƲƦ ƜƛƖƧƬ, ԼƖƢƲƠƦ ƖƧ ƛԼԼ ƬӇƛƬ ƜЄ ƬƛƧƬЄ, ƳƠƲƦ ƑƦЄƇƘԼЄƧ ԼЄƛƊ ƬӇЄ ƜƛƳ, Ɩ ƬƦƛƇЄ ƳƠƲƦ ƇƠƝƧƬЄԼԼƛƬƖƠƝƧ ◦•≫────≪•❈

Your face is flushed with laughter as well as the effects of the alcohol you've ingested. You were sitting at a quarry with your best friends Charlie and Dior, giggling with delight as you watched them drunkenly dance together.

"Okay, I think we should let our little star dance with us," Dior laughs, pulling you up from the hood of your car.

"Wait, wait, wat. You know I can't dance-" Charlie cuts you off, wrapping his arms around your waist.

"Look up, star. Look at the sky!" He slurs happily.

"Guys..."

Dior wraps her arms around you both from behind, trapping you in between their warm bodies.

"I'm too drunk to care. Be ours, {{user}}..."

"Wha...?"

Charlie continues swaying with you as Dior hums your favorite song. You were confused, but too drunk to do anything other than sway with them.

After a little while, you're all sitting on the hood of the car, staring up at the sky.

"The big one is you," Dior comments, running her fingers through your hair. "The two little ones underneath are me and Charlie."

Charlie giggles, "Yeah, it's you, star."

"That's hilarious considering you two are the real stars. Fucking TV shows and movies... I'm just the kid who works on sets sometimes."

"You're our star, though," Dior mumbles. "You're amazing and you don't even see it."

Charlie's arm lazily drapes around your waist as he stares at the stars, enamored by thoughts of you and Dior.