monty-santos:
Monty had been spending more time than usual at the shelter. Partially because he knew that winter was the time that they needed the most help, and partially because the closer that it got to New Year’s the more anxious that Monty felt himself getting. And his go-to strategy for that was to find something else to focus on in hopes that it would just go away. It wasn’t a very good strategy, but he felt like it was at least keeping him somewhat sane. It was better than spending all of his time thinking back to his arrest.
But with all of that on his mind, he didn’t even really notice Ben was there until the other man spoke to him, snapping Monty out of his thoughts. “Yeah, I’m ready for it to get less cold. I’ve never been a huge fan of winter,” he nodded at his friend as he kept his hands burrowed in his pockets. “Well, that’s the shelter that I volunteer at,” Monty explained, pointing at it with his head, “so I was just on my way there. What about you?”
There was no reason to lie to Monty and yet, he felt the urge to. Telling the truth meant vulnerability and he refused to feel that way most of the time. Ben cleared his throat as he shifted his weight. What the fuck was he doing here? Why was he even around here?
“I’m going for a run,” He lied as he looked at the other man. Lying was so effortless to him. “Well, I was, and then realized I definitely wasn’t dressed appropriately. it’s funny that we ran into each other,” He chuckled, trying to keep the attention off of himself. “Can you skip and join me? I was just about to check this new place out down the block.” It wasn’t really that new. It just hadn’t been here the last time that he was here and he definitely wasn’t here to check it out.
taterodriguez:
“Parties in the Upper East Side are the only good thing about Manhattan,” Tate had grown to detest Manhattan and everything it had stood for. The drama and politics of it all had grown to be too much and sometimes they wish they had been able to abandon it all and leave the way Monty and Ben had done, but they had unfortunately set roots here. “Honestly, don’t let them get to you. They feed off of drama so just don’t give it to them.” Tate gave a shrug of their shoulders before sipping their vodka. “Don’t be a stranger, I’ve heard the food is pretty good.” Tate boasted playfully. “Only since you haven’t had the chance to taste my food.”
“King?” Tate hadn’t been able to keep track of people these days especially if they hadn’t been around since their days of Nightingale Prep. “Why does that name sound familiar? – Anyway, congratulations. I’ll drink to that,” Tate chuckled before finishing their vodka. “Please, I’ll never say no to that.”
"Have you been to SantaCon? That comes in a close second,” He had never been but he heard about it. People dressed in Christmas gear while drinking. Now that sounded like a good time. Tate was giving some good advice, advice that Ben should probably listen to. However, most of the time, information went in one ear and out the other for him. “It’s hard not to when I guess I’m this drama filled apparently,” He confessed to them. “I’m sure it is,” Was it as good as the food he had abroad, though? That was the real test. “I’m looking forward to it.”
“King Kirbey, she’s the hot blonde at this party,” He pointed out, shocked they didn’t know exactly who she was. “And she’s Bishop’s sister,” He added, seeing if it would ring any bells. “Thanks, I’ll drink to that too,” He decided. “How about we skip the chaser and go right for some shots?” Ben suggested.
kingkirbey:
“I wouldn’t be surprised considering you’re already halfway there.” King chuckled and ran a hair through her husband’s dark mane, giving him a smile so he knew she was kidding. She was well used to his excess of hair by now and in all honesty, she was a pretty big fan of it. It made him look scholarly, or so she liked to think. “Well, people who make resolutions are exactly the type of people I don’t ever want to be in the presence of, so maybe we should dip out early.” The prospect of leaving early intrigued her, but these days, that wasn’t a surprise. Would they ever manage to go to a party without complaining and wanting to go home a few minutes in? “Traveling through the city pre-ball drop is probably not going to be an option, though.”
He knew she liked his hair and honestly, that’s what really mattered. “You’re supposed to tell me how handsome I look,” He joked, it wasn’t like he didn’t know that she liked it. His hair wasn’t really something that those on the Upper East Side donned although it wasn’t like that really mattered to him. As far as he was concerned, New York seemed pretty foreign to him at this point. Hopefully, he would be able to make amends with Quinn and they’d be back and traveling in no time. “There are probably plenty of people who already have here. At least we know resolutions aren’t real. That’s one of the many reasons why I love you,” He pointed out, “I’m sure we could find a place to eat some burgers too.” Okay, he really missed American burgers. And sure he tried not to eat red meat but it was New Year’s Eve. “That sounds like my ideal New Year’s Eve.” As long as he was with her, his night would be the best. It was so easy to be around her. “Not unless we take the subway,” He suggested, “Even Spain’s metro is better than ours,” He pointed out before continuing, “Or do you think people are partying it up down there as well?”
chessieabernathy:
Somewhere past the sunrise, Chessie hadn’t woken with feeling a common feeling of being both groggy and mildly hungover. The combination always warranted a warm cup of coffee to ease her into the day – Even with plenty of party guests sleeping all over her home thanks to the blizzard, she didn’t miss a beat. Having changed in a short robe, pulled close, she brewed a pot, leaning against the kitchen counter as she scanned the room. “Morning, sunshine,” she comments quietly, giving the new addition an arched brow. “Help yourself.” Chessie offers, nodding to the pot next to her.
Ben started feeling more comfortable around the apartment that he was intruding in. It had been a few weeks and he finally was deciding he could take most things without asking. The one problem was that Ben wasn’t a morning person. He’d much rather sleep in than have to get up. But for some reason, he was up. It took him at least an hour to wake up, another thirty minutes to be open to conversation, it was a whole process. Add in the fact that he was hungover and his face fucking hurt. Not to mention that getting to sleep was a whole process. Maybe it was all of the guilt that he had to live with. It had to be cold and he had to sleep in just his boxers. However, he always made sure he was decent when he went outside of the room that he and King shared. After he rubbed his eyes, adjusting to some light, he trekked to the kitchen. He looked at Chessie, giving her a hand to at least acknowledge her. “Stop being so loud,” He told her in a whisper. “It’s hurting my head.” Since when did he get hangovers? It was this American shit. He took some coffee before he looked back at her, “Do you think we can get out to the terrace for a quick smoke?” He asked, not knowing the extent of the snow from the blizzard.
chessieabernathy:
Chessie couldn’t stop herself from staring out the window – Even though the sun had gone down, the city lights made it easy enough to see how much snow was beginning to pile onto the terrace. It made her nervous, filling her with dread as she thought of how she’d have to trek through it tomorrow morning. But rather than worry about what’s to come tomorrow, she saw it sit to enjoy herself tonight. “You look like you need a drink,” She comments easily to the person next to her, smirk on her face. “What’s a party without champagne?”
He forgot how commercialized Christmas was in America. People would die to spend Christmas in the City and yet he’d pretty much rather be anywhere but here. It sucked having a guilty conscience. He preferred warmer climates now, one that didn’t require him to wear so much clothing. How did she know? He did need a drink, especially to get through this party. “A good one,” He joked. “I can’t be the only one that thinks champagne tastes pretty awful. Do you have any craft beer?”
arlovasquez:
chessieabernathy:
The mention of the state of his sheets provokes a concerned look, and wide eyes – As if she’s sat in a pile of mud. Without questioning him further (assuming it’s best probably not to), Chessie moves to the floor, sitting with her back against the end of his bed frame. In the morning, she knows she’ll regret being so frank about what she intended on doing. Surely, it will come to bite her in the ass, that this moment will be a memory wielding guilt and concern. For now, though – She cut three lines without hesitation, sitting on her knees as she moved. She turns to Ben for a moment, smiling as she nods quickly. “New Years is supposed to be fun,” she agreed, pulling a bill from her purse after, rolling it up. “To having a fun fucking year,” Chessie spoke up once more, as if they were making a cheers before shots. Only, instead of shots, she was leaning over a mirror, taking the line without question. The burn didn’t bother her, barely registering in her mind, thanks to the alcohol. As her hand came up to rub her nose with the back of it, she passed the bill to Arlo. “Don’t fuck it up,” she teases with a laugh that’s just a bit too loud, already feeling the effects of the substance.
“Beer isn’t bad when you’re already drunk, Chessie. It goes down quicker and it’s almost like water,” Arlo said with a grin. “Plus it doesn’t make you want to throw up if you breath right after drinking a sip, unlike shots.”
He sat back, watching Chessie as she took the line. It was bit bizarre to watch this happening in front of him. Arlo had only seen people do coke in movies, and he certainly never thought he’d be about to do it.
As the mirror was passed to him, he hesitated. There was another knot forming in his stomach but he willed it away. He put the mirror on
Taking the bill, he positioned it and leaned over the mirror, holding one nostril shut and inhaling.
First came the slight burn and then the taste; it was like he had swallowed play-doh.
“That wasn’t so bad,” he said as he passed the mirror to Ben.
“Yeah,” He agreed with Arlo, “And if you get the right kind, it doesn’t smell like piss. Or taste like it.” Everyone could use some good beer in their life.
Ben waited impatiently for his turn. He had watched Chessie have her go at it. She definitely knew what she was doing.
“I can hold your hand next time,” He joked, “But I don’t think you need it. It’s pretty much like going through the motions of smelling a sharpie.” He definitely wasn’t making sense but he didn’t care. He was about to get to do something he hadn’t done in two years. All of that work to become sober would be gone, and he didn’t care. He took the bill and mirror happily, not wasting much time. As soon pulled his head up, and everything came rushing back. He felt his body warm up, almost like he was Popeye with his spinach. The adrenaline running through him right now was incomparable. “That’s how the pros do it, Arlo. You’re learning from the masters.” He mumbled.
He felt like human wrapping paper wearing his festive suit. If he was put under the tree, he could probably have passed as a present. When he was younger, he loved Christmas. Well, until his father told him that Santa wasn’t real. He was still trying to adjust back into the Upper East Side party manner. At least he had alcohol as a social lubricant. “You know kids in England leave Santa some beer. Do they not think he could get drunk?” He asked, “Imagine consuming that much alcohol in a minimal amount of time. He wouldn’t legally be allowed to fly that sleigh.”
oatanas:
When everything really came down to brass tacks, O was mad at Ben because King was. She wasn’t upset that he had been doing drugs with Chessie when she overdosed (O knew that Chessie would have ended up there sooner or later regardless of who was with her) and she wasn’t even really mad the he had been arrested. Instead, she was mad because of the affect the whole ordeal had had on King. “M’hm, sit down meals aren’t exactly a thing around here,” she glanced up from her phone, one brow raised. “Besides, you should be thanking your wife for letting you stay, not me.”
There wasn’t much else to say to O. It seemed like the only thing they had in common was King. "Yeah,” He acknowledged, “But they could be a thing around here,” There was no reason why they couldn’t have a sitdown meal every now and then right? Maybe that’d be a way for King to have to talk to him. “I would thank her but...” He looked down shamefully as his voice drifted away, “I did stuff that I shouldn’t have done. So I figured I could at least thank you.” He hated feeling like he was isolated around here. “What’s your favorite meal? I bet I could recreate it.”
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