Lola, Cara and Queenie can't really remember what life was like before they became friends. They remember the day—the first day of year nine in secondary school during a chemistry class when Cara had been slotted into Lola and Queenie's class after being excluded from her old school for having too many attitude problems with her old teachers—but any memories before that seem to be lost; blurry.
The trio were quickly coined as the kids at the back of the class to watch out for by their teachers. They were the kids that wouldn't shut up during class but still ace the tests; the kids that stole the show at everything they did—whether it was a sporting event, an exam, a drama class production, the girls were just an enigma. Still are.
It's no surprise to anyone who knew the girls, that they went on to do amazing things. Imagine: a recently graduated commercial lawyer, a civil engineer and an up-and-coming model. It almost sounds like a joke; a lawyer, civil engineer and model walk into a bar...
At twenty-one years old, the girls have conquered everything they wanted to, and they did it all together. As always. That's what life is like for them—they do it together, win together, or they don't do it at all.
That's not to say they don't annoy the life out of each other every once and a while though.
"Cara, I swear to God—Cara, stop!" Lola screeches, kicking her legs as she struggles against the blonde's grip.
Cara has the brunette pinned under legs now, panting heavily at the amount of effort she had to put in to win. "Give me the remote."
"No," Lola protests. "I want to watch Drag Race."
"It's not your turn to choose." Cara grits out, still trying to rip the tv remote out of her best friend's hands.
Lola pouts, widening her eyes and giving Cara her best puppy dog expression. "But I'm hungover, I need my comfort show."
"Oh my God, do you two ever shut up?" Queenie groans, watching the pair safely from the other couch.
Cara looks at her other best friend expectantly. "Queenie, tell her to give me the remote."
Lola copies, finally dropping her puppy dog eyes. "Tell her to get off me, I can't bloody breathe."
Queenie rolls her eyes, repeating what the girls asked her to say in the most monotonous tone she can muster. Her eyes drop back to her phone at the sound of a notification and the second she reads the first part of the sentence at the top of her screen, a scream erupts from behind her lips.
Cara falls off of Lola's lap in shock, both girls staring at their friend in horror. Her scream sounded like she'd just witnessed a murder.
"What the fuck was that?" Cara pants, lifting herself from the floor and moving to join Queenie on the sofa with Lola following closely behind.
"Lando fucking Norris has just dm'd me."
"What?!" Lola gasps, pushing her face against Queenie's to get a better view of her phone.
friday 23:08
the queens dead
saturday 15:42
what
"What did he say?" Cara asks, leaning closer to the blushing and giddy girl beside her to have a better view of the phone.
"He said, 'What'." Queenie sighs dreamily.
Cara snorts, rolling her eyes as she leans back into the couch cushion. "Riveting."
Queenie pouts, punching her best friend in the shoulder. "Shut up," She whines. "I mean, at least he responded. I told you that message would work."
Lola stares at the phone in awe, reaching to take it from Queenie's hand as she squints closer to the screen. "I can't believe it actually worked."
"What do I say back?" Queenie mutters, still not over the shock of her celebrity crush replying to her message.
"Definitely play it cool after that mess of an opener." Cara teases, shooting her friend a cheeky grin when Queenie's scared eyes meet her own.
"This isn't funny," Queenie whines. "Fuck, what do I do?"
Lola shrugs. "You could always just leave it."
"You mean you want me to ghost Lando Norris?" Queenie scowls at the utter stupidity in that suggestion. "It's fucking Lando Norris, Lola."
"It's who, sorry?" Cara quips. "I don't think you've said."
Queenie is quick to push the blonde off of the couch, adding a soft kick to her shins once she hits the floor. "Fuck off, I don't want to see or talk to you for at least five working days."
Cara laughs loudly. "I'm only playing."
Queenie ignores her, too busy snatching her phone back from Lola and trying to decide what to respond with.
friday 23:08
the queens dead
saturday 15:42
what
what
you just said the
queen is dead
me? no.
i would never
you dont even have to
scroll up to see that you
just did...
well, okay
wait no
come back
ur so sexy aha
"Cara!" Queenie wants to cry when she reads what Cara managed to type and send in the split second she stole the phone from Queenie.
"I'm just trying to fix your dead ass responses." She defends, smirking at the panicked look in Queenie's eyes. Lola laughs behind her hand from the other side of Queenie.
It truly brought Cara joy seeing Queenie cringe from being pushed out of her comfort zone. The blonde always means well, sometimes Queenie hates her in the moment but she always appreciates the socialite-boost shove Cara sends her whenever she feels like hiding away in her shell.
"He's left me on read now." Queenie pouts and Cara immediately wraps an arm around her shoulders.
"It's okay," She says, smiling softly. "You spoke to him, that's what matters."
"I guess." Queenie sighs.
Lola reaches for the tv remote again, grinning at Queenie but still managing to send an evil glint to Cara over the caramel girl's shoulder. "Do you want to watch some Drag Race to feel better?"
"Lola, I will fuck you up—"