Arlovasquez‌:

seboriley‌:

“Dude, I’m kidding,” Sebastian assures, a little laugh bubbling up his throat as he tries to soften the blow. “What, they don’t bust your balls in Europe like they do in the good ‘ol U-S of A? We still got that on ‘em?” He offers a clipped but not insincere thanks, grabbing the handle of the knife and working it through a lime. “Well, might as well have some. No point in wasting a perfectly good lime. But if we’re going all out, we gotta find the salt…” He starts pulling open cabinets with reckless abandon, finally catching sight of a shaker and pulling it out. “’Kay. Lick your hand, Benny boy.”

He was always a wound up drunk. He did things he wasn’t supposed to and got angry at useless things. However, he was going to laugh this one off. “No one in Europe even has a sense of humor,” He joked. He waited patiently for the salt that Sebastian was looking to discover. “Too bad we aren’t taking body shots.” He hadn’t done that in years. It seemed like a younger Ben thing to do, especially when he was crossfaded. “To the New Year,” He cheered before he moistened the back of his hand. He poured the salt on his hand and licked it, realizing that his hands were probably pretty gross. Oh well. Germs take a break on New Year’s Eve. He threw his head back as he took the tequila shot. He then began to suck on his lime. “I’m ready to do another one, not gonna lie.”

monty-santos‌:

“Yeah, I guess.  If you say so,” Monty shrugged, even though he didn’t really feel like he was really that strong of a person. And while he knew that others would probably protest, it didn’t change the feeling.  “So clearly you went to France, anywhere else exciting you went while you were gone?” he asked, trying to get the subject off of him. 

“Oh yeah, I was all over the place. One of my favorite countries was Greece. Everything’s so modern yet not modern there,” He said, trying to sound like he was cultured. “I went all around the EU, I’m surprised we didn’t run into each other. I ran into King in Italy, like what were the odds of that? I really think that being abroad changes you, in a good way, of course.”

monty-santos‌:

“Yeah, I should. The problem is that any job that would actually pay me is one that I can’t really see myself doing,” Monty admitted, even though he knew exactly how strange that sounded.  He didn’t mind that he didn’t have money, at least most of the time, and he’d figured out ways to really survive without it.  And while there were times that he really missed the luxury of being able to do whatever he wanted, for the most part, Monty was content with the fact that his life was never going to really be that way.  Which was just another reason he didn’t fit in the upper east side.  “I want to go back someday.  Coming back to the city was always a temporary thing, I just haven’t gotten back to the point where I can yet.  But I’m sure that it’ll happen someday,” Monty replied, though the longer that he stayed in the city the farther away someday felt.  “And to be honest, there’s not,” he sighed as he looked out the window, “the winter is actually the most dangerous time to be homeless because the shelters are always at capacity and if you don’t get there in time there might not be room. And if you get turned away from multiple you don’t have a choice but to sleep outside.  It’s a good part of the reason that I’ve been working on the clothes drive with the shelter that I volunteer for because at least it gives them clothes that might be able to help them survive the night.”

To him, this made no sense. Why would Monty not want to get paid while doing a job? That was volunteering and he was not here for it. “I don’t know if it can be considered a job then,” He pointed out to the other male. “How long have you been back for?” Ben didn’t know much about the people he left behind, their whereabouts, or who kept up with whom. “If you go back to France, at least let me show you the best places to get a drink around there.” He added, looking for an excuse to see the male again. As long as it was in a different country. “That’s pretty fucked up,” He said honestly. He never thought much of homeless people, except for those late nights he’d come back high as fuck and see them sleeping on the street. “You should make everyone in here give away at least half of the closets. You’d end up with a bunch of clothes.” He was chuckling but it was probably true. 

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.”

planning on running back to europe now that something has gone wrong?

“Where I go is none of anyone’s business.” He answered. He was a bit defensive when it came to running away. Yes, he was a wimp when it came to facing his consequences but that was for him and only him to admit to himself. “Right now, I’m staying here.” He was at least going to finish what he started here. Beyond that was a mystery to him. “I don’t know who this concerns anyways.” He’d keep King in the loop and well, anyone else didn’t matter. “Thanks for the concern, though.” 

finnsmythe‌:

“I don’t doubt that. You seem pretty scrappy to me,” he grinned a little. At the suggestion of a shotgun competition, Finn laughed. “Oh my god, yes! I used to do that all the time with the guys! And I did that in college before I dropped out. You’re on. If this fucking blizzard wasn’t happening, and we’d be able to get a case of beer, we’d definitely do that!” Finn was competitive as hell, and he would do all he could to win that challenge. “Yeah, we’re a thing,” he nodded. “I’ll ask O about it. See if she’d be down.”

He wasn’t scrappy. Only he was allowed to call himself that. Or King. That was about it. “I gotta compensate for the height somehow,” He wasn’t ignorant, he knew he was pretty small. “There should always be a case of beer around or a keg. I really need to show Chessie and O how Europeans party,” He thought he was better than everyone because he spent so much time abroad. It was pretty pathetic. “Maybe we could do a bar crawl.” He considered that pretty romantic. See, romance isn’t dead. 

taterodriguez‌:

“Actually, I haven’t.”  Tate admitted and gave a shake of their head as a chuckle passed through their lips.  They heard stories about SantaCon, but could never bring their self to attend knowing full well that there was more excitement in the Upper East Side.  “I think people were just surprised to see you’ve finally made a reappearance,” Tate said casually.  “Honestly, I never thought I’d see you again when you disappeared.  –  Kind of makes me wonder what was so important that made you come home,” Tate gave a shrug of their shoulders and they figured it was safe to assume it had something to do with Quinn.  “You’ll have to call in advance, but I’ll do my best.”

The only reason Tate remembered who Ben was, was due to the turmoil it caused Quinn.  It was hard for Tate to bother remembering people that clearly wanted nothing to do with the Upper East Side.  “Bishop’s sister, right.  The disappearing Kirbey.”  Tate didn’t have a face to the name but vaguely remembered another Kirbey being around.  “Shots sound great, it’s the only thing that is going to get me through this night.”

He really had just disappeared. It wasn’t like he was planning on leaving, it just all happened so fast. “It’s fun but I’m not sure it beats Oktoberfest,” He pointed out. Nothing could beat being in Munich during Oktoberfest.“Honestly, same here. But you know what they say. You always find your way back home.” He was only here to finally let go of the guilt he had been carrying around. 

“Yes, both I and the disappearing Kirbey have returned,” Ben confirmed. He wondered why they needed shots to get through the night but knew it was none of his business. If only he didn’t leave, he probably would’ve known Tate pretty well because of Quinn. “Vodka keeps me humble,” He hated the taste but would down it anyways. “And I don’t trust people who like raspberry flavored vodka. That shit tastes like medicine.”

arlovasquez‌:

chessieabernathy‌:

Chessie barely heard what they said, eyes closing for a moment to silently pray the room would stop spinning. Her head turned towards Arlo as he stood, a hand reaching out to her. She took far too long to respond, before a smile finds her, and she’s on her feet. “We should dance,” she repeats the words back with a nod, an arm wrapping around Arlo’s middle in an attempt to keep herself upright. Leaning against him, she danced along with him – Or at least, attempted to. 

Being unable to feel her face wasn’t something uncommon for her, but this time around – It kept her from noticing the nose bleed that had begun somewhere between getting up, and the moment she noticed blood dripping onto her dress. “Shit,” she began, half stepping away from him to wipe her nose with the back of her hand. “Oh, fuck – This dress is – Shit.” She slurred, spewing half sentences as panic began to settle in. “Shit..” Chessie grumbled once more, free hand landing on Arlo’s shoulder, in an attempt to steady herself. It’s unclear how much time as passed, before she opens her eyes once more. “I just – Need to sit.” With a nod, she lets go of him, managing to stumble a foot away, before her eyes rolled back and shit hit the ground, unconscious. 

Dancing was supposed to be a fun idea; something to keep energy up. At least, that was Arlo’s intentions.

 When Chessie pulled away he looked to her, confused.There was a pattern of crimson on her dress that trailed from her nose. “Chessie, are you okay?” He asked her. But she didn’t answer him - only ranted about the dress for a moment before putting her hand back on his shoulder. She was like that for only a few seconds before walking away and falling.

Arlo didn’t react at first. As his eyes dropped with her, he merely stood there and observed her. “Chessie?” He called out after a few moments of silence. “You okay?” 

When she didn’t respond he approached her body and knelt done, putting two fingers over her neck. The pulse was there but weak. 

 Arlo looked up in panic, knowing something terrible had happened, probably something to do with the speedball they just did. 

 “I think she overdosed Ben. We need to get help!”

He didn’t realize anything serious was happening until he saw her hit the ground. That wasn’t supposed to happen. And it’s not like she’d be playing dead or whatever. Ben crawled towards her and Arlo,.

This was it. A repeat of what had happened before. Why did this always happen to him? And this was another reason why he didn’t want to come back. It wasn’t fun watching someone overdose right in front of you. This time it was different, he knew her. Hell, he lived with her. And there were no cops beating down the door. 

He then looked at Arlo before looking down at her. 

“We gotta call 911,” He insisted as he reached into his pockets to find his phone. They were in no state to drive her. His hands were shaking, and he wasn’t sure if it was from the drugs or nerves. The EMTs would probably be more worried about her than the drugs, thankfully. “Here you talk to them, I don’t know your address.” He handed his phone to Arlo. There was a lump forming in his throat, wondering if she was even going to be okay.

wrenabernathy‌:

Wren knew the appropriate response was to say he’d prefer beer, but he didn’t. And, when he was feeling fine he could easily just agree with what he should like best and leave it at that, but when he was stressed he slid into type A personality overdrive and he followed his daily schedule even tighter than usual. “I’d have to go with the milk, actually,” he said, but then gave an apologetic smile to the other - letting him know non-verbally that he wasn’t trying to be a buzzkill on purpose. “Anyway, uhm - Chessie told me you’ve been holed up here for the past few weeks. How’s that going? Did she and Ophelia drive you crazy yet?”

What was with no one around here liking beer? He just figured that he was extremely cultured compared to the rest of them. “You’d voluntarily drink milk? Only nutcases do that,” He added. “Are they supposed to be driving me crazy? I’ve tried to not be too much of an intrusion on them since this is their place.” Ben tried to be as respectful as he could in their penthouse. He felt like an intrusion less now but O still scared him a bit. He was getting along with Chessie pretty well. “I’m just thankful for a bed and some coffee in the morning. Your sister’s a pretty good house host.”

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.