"Every day that goes by that Bastille's cover of No Scrubs isn't on Spotify, a piece of my soul shrivels up and dies."

Gemma rolled her eyes at me as she collected our Din Tai Fung takeaway boxes from her chic wooden coffee table. I shifted on her suede couch as I scrolled through my phone and pulled up the playlist I made for the weekend, pressing shuffle as the original No Scrubs started flitting through Gemma's bluetooth speaker. Sure, the original TLC version still hit, but it wasn't the same.

"I wouldn't be that dramatic about it, but I agree. You can always just play the hour-long loop on Youtube."

"It's not the same," I moaned. Gemma's cat Walt looked up at me with his big golden eyes and meowed, almost imitating my groan of dissatisfaction. I scooped him up into my arm before grabbing my wine glass off of the table with my free hand.

"You're not a scrub, Walt," I said to him in a squeaky high voice - the only appropriate way to talk to small animals - as I cradled him under my arm and started to sway to the music.

"Put the cat down and start getting ready, please," Gemma droned. "Nina will be here soon and I want to be ready so I have time to take some self-care shots before we leave."

I groaned at the mention of Nina's name and gently put Walt down on the couch before following Gemma back to her bedroom. The song switched over to Don't Kill My Vibe by Sigrid, and I could only hope that some people followed suit for the rest of the night.

I'd planned to spend Halloween with Gemma in London months ago when I knew my schedule was clear, and we decided early on for a classic angel and devil combo costume - except in a fun bit of irony, she was the devil and I was the angel. However, the impromptu appearance of Nina Beaumont - Gemma's posh influencer best friend she made years ago back at Oxford - might still compel me to grow horns by the end of the night. Nina was the one who had initially whisked us away to Monaco all those months ago - I just wondered if she truly knew what that night meant for Gemma and I now.

At present, I wasn't in the mood to give her the satisfaction whenever she decided to grace us with her presence.

Gemma had our costumes laid out on her bed - black leather pants and a red mesh shirt with fabric flames for Gemma's devil, and a short white slip dress for me that looked more like a nightgown, but fuck it, it was Halloween, the day for alter egos to show up and show out. My angel wings were propped up in the corner of the room, the subtle glitter in the feathers glinting every so slightly in the light of Gemma's salt rock lamp.

After getting dressed (and taking a pause to belt out Holly Humberstone) we migrated to Gemma's bathroom for makeup. I fished around the bottom of my bag for my MAC Ruby Woo lipstick for Gemma, since the last time it was used was on her in Miami. I contemplated just accidentally leaving it in her flat this weekend - she'd get far more use out of it than me.

"So, care to share with the class where we're actually going tonight?" I asked Gemma as I touched up my iridescent eye shadow. "Or does that violate Nina's master schedule plan?"

Gemma sighed. "Yes, Nina loves a good itinerary, but she's not anal about it, so if there is somewhere else you want to go - and don't say Notting Hill - she'll be down. But listen, in the years I've been traipsing around London with her, she's never led me astray. Ever."

I shrugged. "Okay, whatever you say, Gem."

"Well, Alpaca has £5 gin and tonics," Gemma added, casually tucking a stray piece of my hair behind my ear as I put my lipgloss on. "That's first on her list."

I couldn't stop a slightly coy smirk from tugging at the corners of my mouth. "I can't say no to gin and tonics, and I know you know that."

Gemma gave me a nonchalant shrug. "Just a coincidence I guess."

But I knew better. Gemma didn't do coincidences - Gemma did diplomatic contingencies. While it was always subtle, I knew she didn't appreciate that Nina and I didn't exactly get along.

Gemma and I were prepping drinks when her phone vibrated on the kitchen counter.

"Okay she's here, I just need to buzz her in."

Speak of God and she doth appear, ready to smite us mortals. Literally.

When Nina walked into Gemma's flat in a tiny gold dress and a gold leaf headband fixed to her dark hair like a crown that belonged to Zeus, she explained to us that she was a non-denominational God, because God is a woman. It might have just been the fact that she was literally dripping in gold, but there was a regality to her that wasn't forced or striking. She almost had a charming vintage feel, like an old Chanel boy bag you got lucky finding at a thrift store. Her presence alone should have irritated me, but really I was just in awe of how casually assured of herself she was - that was what I hated more.

She put her Louis Vuitton overnight bag down by the couch and clocked the shot glasses and cheap M&S vodka on the counter.

"You're already doing self-care shots without me?" she asked in her subtle British accent.

Jealousy prickled at my skin, because of course Nina knew about self-care shots.

Gemma gave her a casual flick of her wrist as she began pouring them. "I wouldn't start without you, don't get your tiara in a tizzy."

"It's not a tiara, it's a..." She reached up to touch the headband and frowned. "I hate when you do that."

"Do what?" Gemma smized.

"When you talk so seriously and it takes me a moment to understand that you're joking."

They shared a laugh, and I hated that too. Somehow, this felt worse than seeing Gemma and Callahan together. I could share her with a boy - especially someone as likable as Callahan - but Nina and her pretentious, literal God-tier presence wasn't something I was so willing to make room for in the recent hurricane of my life.

Gemma turned her attention back to me. "No shot for you, I take it?"

I shook my head. "Vodka and I don't get along."

It was subtle enough but simultaneously not hard to miss the wry facial expression Nina made before her and Gemma knocked their shots back. She was one of those girls that spoke with their eyes, and right now those glowing chocolate brown ones of hers said "are you sure it's the vodka you don't get along with?"

"Oh, speaking of shots..." Nina retreated back into the living room area, her gold heels clacking on the wood floor. "I want a few before we go, just in the event my drunk eyes come out to play tonight and I don't have any usable in-pub photos."

I had to hold in a groan. I knew Nina was a "lowkey" Instagram influencer (Gemma's words, not mine) with a semi-respectable following, and while that was all well and good from a distance, I did not have the energy to keep up with her influencerness all night.

"To the balcony!" Nina was about to lead the charge to Gemma's little balcony overlooking her street, but Gemma put the brakes on.

"Wait, I didn't put Walt's costume on!"

She retreated back to her bedroom to capture Walt and put his bat wings on, leaving Nina and I alone for the first time tonight. She looked at me with intent, but not malice. Almost like she was just processing that I was actually there in my glittery halo and my ridiculous angel wings.

"You'll take pictures with us, right?" she asked, twisting a gold signet ring on her pointer finger.

I gave her a thin smile and nodded. "Yeah, sure."

I couldn't take my eyes off of Nina's ring as she continued to absentmindedly twirl it. It had a delicate, thin band and what looked like a small opal at the center.

"I uh...I like your ring," I offered in my attempt to be cordial.

Nina perked up instantly. "Oh I found it at Portobello Market, from this lovely vintage jewelry pop-up. You should go tomorrow - the market is only open on Saturdays."

"Where is it?"

"Notting Hill."

Gemma had returned with Walt in his bat wings just in time for me to throw her a coy glance.

"Oh Notting Hill, huh?" I smirked and turned my full attention to Gemma. "You failed to mention these markets had cute vintage jewelry stalls."

Nina glanced between the both of us. "Wait, you haven't been?"

Gemma and I sheepishly shook our heads.

Nina let out an exasperated sigh. "Gem, you're literally killing me. I cannot believe you haven't taken Savannah to Notting Hill."

"Right?" I threw another pointed glance in Gemma's direction. "Even though I've been begging her to take me every time I'm here."

"You're both being dramatic," Gemma replied in a bored tone, as if she'd witnessed us both like this a hundred times. Actually, she had, just not together in one room.

Nina and I shared a chuckle at Gemma's expense, and suddenly the tension in the air lifted. The playlist shuffled back to No Scrubs. After a few more self-care shots and a quick but carefully staged photoshoot on Gemma's balcony (both of which I partook with more enthusiasm than I thought I would), Nina ran us through the night's carefully curated itinerary.

"Well then," Nina sighed out as she smoothed down invisible wrinkles on her dress. "To the Alpaca and beyond."

Halloween in London was not Halloween in places like San Diego or even Encinitas. You almost had to know where to go...but Gemma and Nina most definitely knew, and I blindly followed in my white pleather boots and my lopsided angel-wings, shedding feathers behind me.

We left Alpaca relatively quickly after indulging in a few cheap gin and tonics and realizing the amount of pub-goers in costumes wasn't going to increase, so we took the bus to Kings Cross and the infamous Big Chill.

"How many English blokes have you had to explain that you're dressed as God?" Gemma asked Nina as we got off the bus.

"I've lost count," Nina replied with a nonchalant wave of her hand. "Regardless, none of them were worthy."

A few gin and tonics was apparently all I needed to loosen up and contribute laughter to the conversation. "They rarely are," I added.

Nina continued to gracefully stride forward along the sidewalk, dodging other pub-goers in more subtle costumes and pointedly ignoring the male passersby that would gawk at her golden ensemble, keeping her attention to us. "Travesty you can't weigh in here Gem, not when you have monsieur Callahan Jane."

"An exception," Gemma replied with a flick of her wrist.

Nina chuckled and turned to me. "She's so cute and low key about it, I'm going to be sick."

Before I could offer a snarky response, Gemma stopped in her tracks.

"Why don't we take some direction from the name of this pub and just big chill?" she asked as she swept her hand towards the pub's entrance, signaling Nina and I to go on ahead in.

Big Chill unsurprisingly had big chill ambiance. It wasn't a large pub, and judging by the idle banter of the bartenders and the lack of any loud thrumming house music, it was more frequented by locals. Bright red stools lined the bar and the few high top tables on the first floor, but otherwise everything else was muted and earthy, including the fresh potted ferns that hung from the shelves above the bar, their leaves cascading down like little waterfalls.

We ordered our drinks at the bar and then made our way up to the rooftop. Gemma and Nina had switched to wine, but I was still slugging gin and tonics, and the hard liquor coursing through me was only apparent after I'd almost slipped going up the stairs to the rooftop deck.

String lights flickered in the evening breeze, and we found a semi-secluded table in the corner pressed up against a wall of ivy. When Nina grabbed a glass ashtray off of an adjacent table and effortlessly lit a cigarette, Gemma followed suit. I took another long sip of my drink.

"I'm almost certain this is why Callahan resents me a little bit," Nina said as she let a little ribbon of smoke pass through her lips. "Gem and her tidy little social smoking habit."    

All that liquor had loosened more than just my limbs. "She's not the only one," I chimed in with a pinched smile.

"I walked into that one." Nina surrendered, but our small group's attention was quickly stolen by Gemma's ringing phone. Nina leaned over to glance at it face up on the table. "Speaking of the devil adjacent, and I say this only because he wears red."

Gemma stood up and gave us both an almost apologetic glance. "I'm going to take this."

I knew as much as Gemma regularly operated under her rational, diplomatic preferences that she applied to school and her future career, Callahan won out in Gemma's preferences of the heart. I would have probably done the same if Atlas had called...and he wasn't even my legitimate boyfriend.

Girls Need Love by Summer Walker floated through the speakers in the corners of the rooftop, and hearing any music with such clarity made me realize how alone we were up here. I focused on the red lipstick stain on the rim of Gemma's wine glass that she left behind, but I couldn't stop myself from stealing glances up at Nina. She put her cigarette out in the ashtray with a very delicate yet experienced hand, like the motion was second nature for her.

When she noticed me looking at her, she offered me a faint but kind smile that still reached her eyes. Her gold headband twinkled under the dim glow of the lights, and while to any normal person she could have still passed as a deity, the girl sitting in front of me right now was just Nina...and I had Nina all wrong.

In that moment, I couldn't really remember when or why I decided I didn't like her. It wasn't any one thing she did, it was the feeling of resentment in myself that her sheer existence teased out in me. Gemma had moved along in life, and that included making new friends at uni, where I had been stagnant, clinging desperately to my old self and my old life. I was finally starting to move along too, and maybe moving along included leaving resentfulness behind.

Of course, gin & tonic Sav was nowhere near as eloquent as she thought she was.

"I don't want you to think I don't like you," I blurted out.

Nina didn't seem at all surprised, instead arching an eyebrow at me like she was expecting more than just my one ineloquent confession.

I let out a sigh. "I mean, I know when you spilled your drink on me that night we met during yours and Gem's first year at Oxford it was an accident. And I know you're Gemma's best friend here, and I respect that. I really do. I've just..."

I paused and I stirred my drink with the straw, but Nina kept her focus intently on me. She was genuinely listening to what I had to say.

"I've been through a lot the last few years and I think I was taking all that resentment out on you. I mean, you invited me to your birthday in Monaco for fucks sake, and not to be dramatic or anything but looking back on it now, that night literally changed my life, and I've never actually said that out loud, but I-"  

Nina reached over and put her hand on top of mine to stop my spiraling, gin & tonic induced rambling. "Slay, Savannah. We're good, no worries. I've always considered us mates by transitive property anyway."

I exhaled a heavy, relieved breath, and I felt the knot in my chest unraveled. "Oh, okay. Good. I'm glad we're...mates."

We got back to Gemma's flat around 2 AM, after Gemma's insistence that we stopped for falafel and kebabs at, according to her, "the best late night place in Angel."

Nina collapsed onto Gemma's suede couch, still fully in her God ensemble.

"Go take your makeup off," Gemma called to Nina as she produced some much needed water glasses for us in the kitchen. "I love you but I don't want glitter all over my cushions."

I slumped into another chair in Gemma's living room, lifting Walt off of the floor and snuggling him tight to my chest, much to his meowing resistance.

"Shh, you love me," I whispered to him.

Nina found a way to lift herself from the couch and retreat to Gemma's bathroom, and Gemma offered me a glass of water in exchange for Walt.

"Put the cat down, let's go outside. It's nice out."

I surrendered Walt and took Gemma's arm as she led me outside to her balcony. As I breathed in fresh night air, the world felt more sturdy underneath my feet, and the dimmed lights below us were clear in my peripheral.

I let out a sigh as I leaned against the railing. "It's so quiet."

Gemma allowed herself a faint smile. "London is always beautiful, but it's a special kind of beautiful when it's quiet."

There was a fondness in her voice that I rarely heard, and as I followed her gaze down to the empty cobblestone streets, I realized the fondness was for London itself.

I knew Gemma had been interviewing for a few jobs back in the US (which is why we were able to swing going to Miami since she'd already been stateside), but seeing the way Gemma looked out at the city reminded me of the way Atlas looked at Monaco. Like no matter where in the world you traveled, you knew where your home was.

"You know what I also think is going to be a special kind of beautiful?" I nudged her in the side. "Notting Hill tomorrow."

Gemma snorted out a laugh. "Yeah, I know. If we can get up."

There was another beat of silence, and Gemma shifted against the railing. "I really wish I could have been in Australia with you," she admitted softly to the night.

"You were there in spirit." I offered her a grin.

Gemma gently shook her head. "Sav, you're the bravest person I know. I mean it. No matter what happens with the championship this year, no one is going to be able to take what you did at Bells Beach away from you. You literally told all your doubters and haters to go fuck themselves. I think that moment is worth more than any crown or trophy."

The night had taken a turn more emotional than I'd been prepared for, and I had to swallow back a knot in my throat before I spoke. "Gem, I-"

Gemma abruptly pulled me into a hug. I wasn't sure how long we lingered there, lost in a moment that had lately been coming too few and far between.

it was really w1ldflow3r and i first conceptualizing this chapter in november of 2020 (along with the below aesthetic). the lovely nina was also supplied by her.

anyway, samma or nothing, i don't make the rules (this is also me trying not to be overly sentimental about this even though it is intensely so).

also obvi our boys are Not Scrubs™️

no angels, no scrubs
by sav allen on spotify • 16 songs, 55 min 8 sec