Signe   snorted   as   she   watched   Enzo   wrestle   with   the   tangled   string. 

HAVANA ROSE LIU for sundance film festival

A   small   smile   ghosted   across   her   lips   at   the   mental   image   he   painted.   “That   could   be   fun,”   she   said   with   a   slight   nod.   Her   fingers   fiddled   with   the   hem   of   her   sleeve   as   she   continued,   daring   to   playfully   tease   him.  “Football   fashion   disasters?   No   promises   I   won’t   laugh,   but   I   will   try   to   be   gentle.”   His   question   about   her   accent   surprised   her,   her   eyebrows   raising   slightly   as   his   guess   landed   rather   close.  “Good   ear!   I’m   Swedish   –   I   was   born   in   Malmö, just across the bridge  to   Denmark.”   No   matter   how   long   it   had   been   since   she’d   lived   in   that   beautiful   coastal   city,   it   would   always   be   home   in   her   heart.   The   place   where   her   parents’   love   story   truly   began.  “We   moved   here   when   I   was   fourteen.   Palmview   was…an   adjustment.”   She   let   out   a   short,   abrupt   laugh   –   almost   as   if   the   sound   escaped   her   before   she   could   fight   it.  “Well,   I   understand   you   just   fine.   No   subtitles   needed…yet   anyway.”   He   fell   into   step   beside   her,   and   his   nearness   was   noticeable   but   not   unwelcome.   Signe’s   gaze   dropped   for   a   moment   before   drifting   back   to   the   art   along   the   hall.   Her   hands   were   loosely   folded   in   front   of   her   as   they   walked.     “Fashion,”   she   echoed   with   a   nod.  “I   want   to…I   mean,   I think   I’d   like   to   have   my   own   line   one   day.   My   interests   are   all   over   the   place,   but   I   just   want   to   make   clothes   that   make   people   feel…warm–”  she   stopped   and   glanced   back   at   Charlie.   “I   mean,   not literally.   I   don’t   want   to   make   people   overheat,   I   just..  My   style   is   more   nostalgic,   like   a   happy   memory.”  Signe   felt   her   cheeks   heat,   and   her   words   slowed,   as   if   she   was   measuring   each   one.  “It   probably   sounds   silly.   But,   what   about   you?   Why   cooking?”

Charlie's eyes scanned Signe's face as she spoke about her fashion design. He nodded slowly along with her words, "No pressure. You don't have to show me." Charlie could almost see the way she'd changed her mind, "Well, I'd love that when you decide you're comfortable. I can show ya the things I used to wear as a footballer.. Maybe I'll make ya dinner and you can laugh at my poor fashion choices and I'll get tips from your mood boards" A laugh slipped easily from his lips, "Fashion at the time-.. No judgements, swear down. It was bad."

His eyebrows had scrunched together in curiosity, "Mind me askin' where you're from? I can hear the Scandinavian there, but can't place it." He shoved his hands into his pockets, his blue eyes locked on her. "Thanks for not judgin'. I've had people say I need subtitles." He joked playfully with a shake of his head.

Waiting for her response to his offer, Charlie shifted on his feet. He glanced back over at the painting they'd originally been looking over when she'd answered. She spoke so softly, he'd had to turn back and read her face to ensure she'd said yes. "Well.. Shall we?"

He'd taken a small step back to end up beside her, his hand hovering behind her back to begin their stroll. "So fashion, yeah?" His eyes scanned all the art around them as they walked together, "You got plans to have your own line? What's your dream?"

She   snorted   at   the   question   while   she   handed   over   the   mess   of   string   into   Enzo’s   waiting   hand.  “Well,   I   was  trying   to   make   a   diamond   friendship   bracelet   pattern,”  Signe   gestured   to   the   pattern   she’d   been   attempting   to   follow.    “Clearly,   my   talents   lay   elsewhere.”  There   was   no   sting   in   her   voice,   only   amusement.   Her   eyes   flickered   down   at   the   beaded   bracelet   that   was   also   before   him   and   smiled.  “Maisie’s   is   definitely   better   than   mine.   She’s   clearly   the   true   artist   here.”

Enzo had been asked to join the Chief of Plastic Surgery's daughter at the friendship bracelet table. She had taken a liking to him from the moment he arrived at her third birthday party and brought her a life-size doll imported from Italy. Since then, Enzo and Maisie have been inseparable for the past three years. As she showed him the sparkly beads to add to their bracelet, the woman beside him displayed their failed attempt. "Well, not everything is a loss. No pun intended," he said, gesturing for her to hand him the knotted string. "What were you trying to do here?"

Signe   laughed   softly,   a   hand   instinctively   lifting   to   twiddle   with   her   hair   as   her   cheeks   warmed.  “Sparkly   goddess   eyes?   Now,   I’m   sure   you   tell   that   to   all   the   girls,”  she   said   with   amusement,   although   there   was   a   shy   gratitude   there   as   well   like   she   wasn’t   sure   how   to   respond   to   the   compliment   said   so   matter-of-factly.  “I’ll   admit,   I   don’t   know   all   that   much   about   astrology.   I   just   blame   everything   on   Mercury   in   retrograde   and   call   it   a   day.” 

“  it's  in  your  features  ,  ”  serena  notes  ,  earnest  .  “  libras  are  ruled  by  venus  .  you've  got  the  soft  features  and  sparkly  goddess  eyes  .  that  and  the  elongated  facial  structure  .  once  you  know  what  to  look  for  ,  it's  pretty  obvious  .  ”  serena  shares  it  like  this  is  well  known  knowledge  —  and  to  most  ,  it  definitely  isn't  . 

Havana Rose Liu 🤍

Signe’s   smile   answered   Charlie’s   grin   easily.   “Of   course   you’d   find   a   way   to   wear   it   like   a   badge   of   honor,”   she   teased,   very   aware   of   his   hand   at   her   back,   tracing.   She   had   no   doubt   that   Charlie   would   achieve   everything   he   set   out   to   do.   He   seemed   stubborn   enough.    She   shook   her   head   with   a   mock   look   of   exasperation.   “   And   somehow,   you’ll   manage   to   get   away   with   it,   I’m   sure,”   she   murmured   dryly. 

 His   voice   softened   and   his   gaze   searched   hers,   a   gentle   question   in   his.   A   reminder   that   he   would   be   a   safe   space,   no   matter   what   she   told   him.   She   hadn’t   expected   him   to   say   any   of   that.   The   part   about   him   not   being   easily   scared   off.   He   said   it   so   self-assuredly   that   Signe   knew   she   had   no   choice   but   to   believe   his   words   too.   Her   eyes   met   his,   and   nodded,   almost   shyly.   “I   do   relate   to   it,   yeah,”   she   admitted.    “I   realized   I   was   pansexual   –   that   there   was   a   word   for   what   I   was   –   probably   just   before   I   moved   here,   which   as   you   can   imagine,   was   a   tough   enough   transition   as   it   was.”   Signe   paused   as   they   swayed   to   the   beat   of   their   own   sound.   “It’s   just   people.   Connecting   with   their   heart,   understanding   another   soul   like   that.”

 It   meant   so   much   to   her   that   he’d   been   vulnerable   enough   to   share   that   with   her.   To   give   voice   to   feelings,   to   an   identity   that   he’d   never   named   or   claimed   before.   She   let   her   head   rest   back   against   his   chest,   laughter   escaping   her   as   he   confessed   to   the   Godfather   being   his   favorite   movie.   “You   must’ve   been   an   absolute   menace.   I   can   picture   it   –   little   you   storming   through   the   house   like   a   pint-sized   Don   Corleone,”   she   giggled. 

 His   touch   moved   to   the   back   of   her   head   and   felt   impossibly   gentle.   His   voice   was   warm   when   he   talked   about   her   studio   idea,   and   for   a   moment   Signe   just   closed   her   eyes   and   let   herself   exist   in   the   moment.   The   praise   for   her   vision   (   and   the   comparison   to   her   mother   )   had   her   burying   a   smile   in   Charlie’s   chest,   pride   flaring.   “I   understand,”   she   said   as   he   answered   her   question   and    he   envisioned   his   future   as   a   chef   looked   like.   And   then   he   spun   her.   The   world   tipped   and   she   shrieked   out   a   laugh   as   she   held   on   to   him   tighter,   focused   on   not   tripping   over   her   own   feed.   The   brush   of   lips   to   her   ear   had   everything   her   going   still   and   her   mind   quiet.   His   whispered   question   for   her   told   her   that   he   truly   wanted   the   answer. 

 Signe’s   breath   caught   ,   her   body   stilling   even   as   her   heart   raced.   She   didn’t   speak   right   away,   taking   some   type   to   truly   think   over   the   question.   Her   teeth   found   her   bottom   lip   and   then   she   spoke   softly,   “Sometimes   I   wish   someone   would   ask   what   I’m   still   afraid   of.” 

Charlie’s grin deepened as she called him insufferable, though the warmth in her tone gave her away. "I find that hard to believe. You don't seem to be sufferin' yet." Charlie smirked as Signe bumped their noses, continuing to prove to him that whatever was happening here was very much mutual. He hummed to himself in content, looking down at her. "You say that like it’s not the greatest compliment," he mused, brushing his thumb lightly over the back of her waist. "I’m committed to being the most charmingly unbearable man you’ve ever met."

He softened, both in expression and in tone, letting her words settle before speaking. "You relate to it all, then?" he asked gently, cautious not to push but wanting her to know he was listening. "I mean… you don’t ever have to explain anythin’ to me you’re not ready to," he added. “But I want you to know there’s not a single part of you that would scare me off. Promise.” He hesitated, "I didn't wanna assume or anythin'.." He paused again, longer this time, "I'm-.. I also.. I haven't really said it out loud ever, but I guess simply puttin' it, I like whoever. I don’t really care who someone is, you know? Not big on labels, but I like who I like. Always have." He chuckled softly, pushing down the hidden layers underneath. He'd done too much work to be more open and he just wanted to assure her that she was safe with him, that he understood. "It's all about the person.. the connection."

When she asked about his favorite movie, his smile flickered into something more boyish. "The Godfather," he said without missing a beat. "I honestly didn't start actually watchin' movies until I was older. My mum would leave the telly on and have her romance movies playin', but with trainin' and school I never really had time to sit down and watch stuff. But The Godfather.. My granddad made me watch it when I were like.. ten? Thought it’d toughen me up or somethin’. Instead, I wouldn’t shut up about it. I loved it, wouldn't stop walkin; around the house, quotin' Corleone, 'you come to me on the day of my daughter's weddin?' Mum was proper pissed at granddad." His laughter was warm and full, his head tilting as he looked down at her tucked against him, her cheek on his chest.

Charlie brought a hand up to the back of Signe's head, brushing over her hair softly while the other hand stayed on her back. He listened with real attention as she described her dream studio, it felt so perfectly her. "That sounds really nice. A space to create as well instead of just a retail store or anythin'.. passin' on the love of art to younger people, just like your mum. Says a lot about the both of ya."

He shrugged, "With no limits or restrictions, yeah, I'd love to have me own restaurant.. Somewhere small and personal. But in real talk? Not a chance in hell." Charlie laughed, "I’ve worked with enough owners to know I’d lose my mind in six months. The time, the money, the paperwork. Nah. I mean, I put my all into work, anyone who works with me can't deny it, whether they like me or not. I'm in early and out late, but to run a place.." Then, just to keep her on her toes, he took her hand and spun her, a wicked grin tugging at his mouth as he caught her again on the other side, "Next question!"

He leaned in, the words almost a whisper, lips brushing beside her ear. "What’s something you’ve never told anyone, but wish someone would ask?" He leaned back just enough to meet her gaze, the teasing fading slightly. "You don’t have to answer. But I’d really like to know."

She   smiled   softly,   glancing   towards   him.   “Well,   there’s   still   beauty   in   that   too,   isn’t   there?”   she   tilted   her   head,   playfully.  “Your   mum   might   not   be   arranging   bouquets,   but   being   surrounded   by   all   that   life   and   color   still   leaves   an   impact.”  At   his   question   about   her   muse,   her   gaze   focused   back   onto   the   canvas   before   them.  “Fashion   stuff,   mostly,”  she   began,   her   tone   casual   and   slightly   downplaying   just   how   much   all   that  ‘fashion   stuff’   meant   to   her.  “Fabric,   textiles   –   I   sketch   and   make   my   own   designs   –   not   for   anyone   else   yet,   but…”  Signe   shrugged,   leaving   her   sentence   unfinished.  The   girl   watched   as   he   stepped   forward   to   study   the   painting   a   little   more   closely,   and   she   allowed   the   silence   to   stretch   comfortably   as   he   made   his   own   assessments   of   the   piece.    When   he   turned   back   to   her,   all   honesty   and   charm,   it   made   her   smile   without   meaning   to.  “That’s   the   thing   about   art,”   she   said,   tucking   a   strand   of   her   unruly   hair   behind   her   ear.  “It’s   not   about   knowing   what   you’re   looking   at,   it’s   about   how   it   makes   you   feel.”   Signe   shifted   slightly,   turning   to   face   him   more   directly.   “And   for   the   record,   food absolutely   counts.   There’s   so   much   emotion   in   taste.”   He   introduced   himself,   and   a   playful   smile   curved   her   lips   as   she   reached   out   to   shake   his   hand.  “Signe. Sing-neh.   But   you   can   call   me   whatever   sounds   right,”  she   joked.   Still   holding   his   hand,   she   leaned   in,   lowering   her   voice   to   a   conspiring   whisper.   “So,   Charlie   the   Culinary   Artist,   what   kind   of   food   are   we   talking?   Tiny   towers   and   edible   flowers,   or   greasy   comfort   food?”

Charlie held a gentle smile as the girl explained the piece wasn't painted by her, "That's lovely. What a cool way to pass on an interest. My mum works at this garden center, but more like 'the soil's over here' and less of the beauty of flowers, I guess." He lets out a soft laugh as he glances between her and the painting, "What's your medium then? If this isn't it, what's your style?"

The way that she'd spoken about the painting had Charlie's eyes immediately focusing more, his feet taking a small step forward to get a better look at the colors. "I would've never even thought about somethin' like that. Don't always know what I'm supposed to be lookin' at when I look at a paintin'." He turned on his heel, attention back on the girl as his head shook, "Honestly? I know nothin' about art. Never grew up really interested, but livin' here it's impossible not to stare. Now I'm definitely someone who appreciates it, really. I can't-.. Genuinely, can't draw for shit, let alone do anythin' close to this." A shrug lifts on his shoulders, "Unless you consider food art. You could say that's my medium." He jokes, holding his hand out towards the girl, "I'm Charlie."

⋮ ★ 𝚘𝚏𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚘𝚕𝚞𝚡𝚎: dependent, multimuse roleplaying blog for palmviewfm. penned by krys ( 32, she / her + est ). please do not interact if you are not a part of the group.

𝚜𝚒𝚐𝚗𝚎 𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚖𝚜𝚝𝚛ö𝚖 — intro. pinterest. playlist.

𝚌𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚑 𝚍𝚘𝚗𝚗𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚢 — intro. pinterest. playlist.

𝚘𝚙𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚊 𝚓𝚊𝚗𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚐 — intro. pinterest. playlist.

Signe   laughed,   shaking   her   head.   “Okay,   Goldilocks,   don’t   worry,” she   quipped,   grinning   at   her   friend.   “I do   listen   ot   you,   sometimes.   As   long   as   you’re   not   trying   to   get   me   arrested.”   But   Adri’s   tone   shifted   and   her   heart   swelled   at   it.   This   was   the   reason   Adriana   was   her   closest   friend.   She   was   a   whirlwind   of   chaos   and   mischief,   but   at   the   heart   of   it   all   burned   that   fierce   loyalty.   She   was   that   same   cool,   older   girl   that   had   taken   her   under   her   wing   and   helped   her   gain   her   confidence.   She   thought   once   Adriana   graduated,   that   would   be   the   end   of   their   friendship,   but   she’d   kept   in   contact.   Visited   frequently.   had   sleepovers,   weekly   check-ins.   Watching   in   awe   and   panic   as   the   older   girl   would   sneak   in   and   out   of   windows   with   a   chaotic   grin   and   wink.   And   so   that’s   how   they’d   spent   the   last   decade.  “I   don’t   know   if   there is a   catch,   yet.   Like   I   told   you,   I   keep   waiting   for   the   other   shoe   to   drop,”   Signe   admitted   softly,   her   cheeks   still   flushed   from   her   confessions.   “He’s   surprisingly   gentle   with   me.   Everything   gets   kind   of   fuzzy   when   I’m   around   him.”   It   was   true.   Probably   her   biggest   anxiety   over   whatever   she   had   going   on   with   Charlie   was   that   it   was so   easy   to   fall   for   him.   She   was   moving   so   fast   and   bouncing   all   over   the   steps   she’d   outlined   in   her   mind   as   a   girl.   And   it   was   even   more   terrifying   how,   when   she   was   around   him,   she   didn’t   really   care   about   any   of   that.   She   just   lucked   seeing   him   smile   that   gleeful   boyish   grin.   “But   if   he  does   turn   out   to   be   a   total   trash   monster   in   disguise,   you’ll   be   my   first   phone   call.”

"Excuse me!" Adriana gasped, a hand dropping to the table with a smack. "I am the perfect amount, thank you very much. Not too much, not too little, just right.." She leaned forward on her forearms, eyes sparkling with amusement as she tilted her head toward Signe. "And yes, good. You should listen to me more often. I’ve only got a decade of questionable decisions to back it up."

There was something about watching Signe now, her flushed cheeks, the barely contained grin, the glow of someone falling fast. Something about seeing her like this tugged at Adriana’s heart. She remembered a younger Signe so vividly. All wide eyes and hushed warnings while Adriana climbed out windows with a wink. And now she was blooming. Rule-breaking in her own way. It was an amazement to witness.

Adriana laughed softly, nudging Signe with her elbow. "Okay, this is all very cute. Like, dangerously sweet, I might actually throw up. You’ve got that dreamy look, and I love that for you.. but," She lifted a brow, voice dipping just enough to anchor the teasing with something real, "What’s the catch? The flaw?" She paused. "Because you know I love that you’re in this, but I’m not above fighting someone if they mess it up. I’ve been slacking on kickboxing lately," She flashed a smile, warm and deadly, "and I really need a reason to get back in shape."

“I’m   not   a   particularly   picky   eater,   so   you   can   just   make   me   your   specialty,”  she   said   with   a   shrug   and   a   smile.   The   smile   couldn’t   help   but   widen   at   his   enthusiasm   about   guessing   the   origin   of   her   accent   so   closely.   Signe   brightened   as   he   shared   that   he’d   spent   time   in   Denmark.  “My   dad’s   from   Denmark,   so   I   spent   a   lot   of   summers   visiting   relatives.   I’m   glad   you   enjoyed   it!   You’ll   have   to   show   me   what   you   learned   while   you   were   there.”   She   walked   beside   him   in   silence,   letting   his   voice   fill   the   space   between   them.   She   was   surprised   that   he   had   chosen   to   share   such   a   detailed   version   of   events   with   her.   A   heavy   weight   sat   on   her   heart   –   not   bad   just…real.   Charlie’s   deciding   ( whether   he   realized   it   or   not )   that   she   was   worth   trusting   with   the   details   of   his   story   meant   more   than   she’d   expected   it   to.   Signe   took   that   show   of   trust   quite   seriously.   She   glanced   over   at   him,   and   watched   the   way   his   eyes   lingered   on   a   new   painting   like   he   was   still   halfway   somewhere   else.   She   could   picture   that   little   boy   in   her   mind   –   bright-eyed,   heart   pounding   in   his   chest   as   he   imagined   what   it   would   be   like   to   have   a   stadium   roaring   for   you.   And   she   could   see   the   man   now,   who   had   pivot   on   his   dream   and   carry   on.   It   agonized   her,   the   thought   of   not   being   able   to   follow   your   passion   and   see   it   all   the   way   through   –   even   if   you   were   destined   to   fail.   To   be   denied   the   opportunity   to  try  would   have   been   the   most   infuriating   of   all.   “You   weren’t   running,”   she   said,   her   voice   soft   but   fierce,   almost   defensive   on   his   behalf.   She   grabbed   his   forearm   and   met   his   gaze   to   make   sure   he   heard   her   next   words.   “You   were.  healing.   It   takes   great   courage   to   find   a   new   dream   like   you   did.   I   don’t   think   I   would   be   able   to   do   that.”   Signe   offered   what   she   hoped   was   a   sympathetic   smile   and   squeezed   his   arm   in   support.  “And   for   what   it’s   worth.   I’m   glad   you   found   your   way   here.”

"Yeah?" He licked his lips in an attempt to keep his smile down, "You let me know what to make for ya, and I'll get the photos out." Charlie's eyes met hers for a brief moment, "As long as you're gentle, I'll be mint." His hands clap together quickly as he learns he guessed well. "I knew it! It's the way ya sing your words." He can't contain his smile as she gives him a small glimpse into her past, "I've been to Denmark before. Studied with a mate at Noma in Copenhagen for a bit before I kept travelin'. I learned a lot there. I was buzzin'. In me element, swear down. I loved it." His eyes glanced around them, but he found himself being drawn back to her each time.

"I get it, what you mean by warm.. I feel the same way." He pauses to think for a moment as he listens to their footsteps, not used to letting people in this quickly. "So when I were a kid, yeah? We lived in a council estate. Rough area, makin' ends meet as much as we could. It were just me and mum. I'd go to school, come home, do me school work, and then I'd cook dinner and clean up around the house while mum was workin'. One year, she tells me she's saved enough to take me to a Man City game for my eighth birthday. At the game she'd said somethin' about watchin' me practice in the yard in the late hours and how she'd been savin' more and she'd signed me up for a footy team." He smiles fondly to himself, "I watched that game and told her I were gonna work hard, just like her, and pay her back. And she told me just to have fun.. So I did. And I was good. I was better than good. By the time I were thirteen, I was havin' scouts come around. I signed to Man City's youth team at fifteen." Charlie stops talking for a moment, looking over at a painting that caught his eye and stopping to take it in.

He finally looks back over at Signe, a sad smile resting on his lips, "I had it all planned out, yeah? My entire life, right there. Everythin' I'd worked for and told my mum I was doin' for us were in the palm of me hand." He chuckles half heartedly, "Well, I sign, right? Make my way out of EDS, which means this is it. Big leagues. Premier league. Two weeks before my startin game I got hurt. Like.. Career endin' injury. And that was it. Had to start over just like that. Back to square one." Charlie brings his eyes back to the painting that had stopped him, "Cooking was the last thing I could remember enjoying before football. It was the only thing that made sense. And it felt like studyin' all over was the best excuse for gettin' out of my town. That way I wouldn't look like I was runnin'."