Monty-santos‌:

bishopkirbcy‌:

“How the fuck is my sister with someone as tedious as you?” The words came out before Bishop could stop them. Drugs had a habit of making him much more unfiltered than he really liked, but at least he was calling a spade a spade. Might as well go all in, “Like, I can understand not wanting to be a part of all,” Bishop gestured with his hand to the pretentious party that was unfolding before them, “this fuckery. Status symbols, the microscope. But, you’re like this hipster construct that has consumed too much kool-aid of what you think is supposed to be ‘relaxed’ and ‘cool’. It literally blows my mind that my sister married such a jerkoff.” Ben wanted to be friends, but Bishop didn’t. He figured if he just kept being his normal asshole self, it would play out like he wanted.

He watched Bishop go on a rant about him. And just like that, he felt his hand squeezing his bottle as his nostrils flared. Fuck Bishop. He knew King was out of his league, which is why he never even tried to pursue her back in the day. But running into her in Italy was no coincidence. “You know what?” He said before he paused as he moved closer towards Bishop, “You don’t have to get it but you need to accept it. I love King. It doesn’t matter what you think, or what your parents think. You can say what you want about me, but don’t say shit when you don’t even know what our relationship is like.” He didn’t care about being friends with Bishop, but he did care about King. He didn’t like anyone bashing their relationship. And if he wasn’t King’s brother, Ben would’ve thrown at least one fist towards his face already. “If I were you, I’d be there for King,” He lectured, “That’s what siblings are supposed to do.” Ben didn’t care if he was overstepping his boundaries, Bishop fucked up calling him a hipster construct.

Bemelman’s was always full of tourists who wanted in on a hitting up the bar scene. To Ben, that was perfect. He was tired of the looks, the whispers. He told himself he didn’t care about any of that, but that was far from the truth."I’m over everyone staring at me,” He mumbled, looking at the drink in front of him. “Tell me something though,” He said, turning his whole body with him as he spoke. “Why does beer always taste a lot better from the bottle rather than from the tap? I feel like I’m drinking expired apple juice.” He noted, giving his head a shake in disappointment.

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.

chessieabernathy‌:

In the short time King and Ben had lived with O and Chessie, the latter had become decently close to Ben. And after O was jetted off to international meetings and shows for two weeks, she had grown more fond of their visitors-turned-roommates, feeling as though the four were building a sibling-esque relationship. She’d begun to look forward to her morning coffee and cigarette with Ben, and while this morning was motivated by the inability to sleep, it was no exception to a rule. His words provoked an eye roll, though she didn’t fight his request – Her own headache was in full swing, as well. “I’m not sure,” Chessie responded quietly, glancing out the large balcony windows before continuing. “I’m not sure my nicotine addiction is bad enough to make me trek through snow, though.” She spoke bitterly, another eye roll following. “And going to change sounds like too much work.” Chessie couldn’t help but whine, slumping against the counter. “This coffee is so warm, I don’t know if I can move.”

He sighed at her hesitation. He’d probably go out and smoke by himself then. He was going to get a little stir crazy with all of these people in here. “Don’t be so dramatic,” He responded, which was ironic considering his own tendencies. “I’m sure it’s only a little cold out. I think you’ll be fine out there,” He gestured towards the window. “You mean your milk with a little dash of coffee.” Ever since he moved to Europe, he drank his coffee black. Everything else seemed way too weak to him now. “Put pants on and the smoke will keep you warm. I’ve needed a drag ever since I got pummeled in the face yesterday.”

monty-santos‌:

“It’s just a mass-produced postcard type thing that the post office makes, so it’s nothing fancy,” Monty pointed out with a little shrug, “But I think it depends on what you’re doing there.  I actually lived mostly in France for nine years after high school and I found that if you tried speak the language and learn the customs and don’t just do the tourist thing they weren’t as ugh it’s an American.”

“Well, of course, they liked you. You’re Monty Santos. I can’t imagine anyone not liking you,” He admitted. Who could ever say something bad about Monty? Not him. “It probably didn’t help that I was inebriated most of the time. I wasn’t sober enough to understand their customs. Not to mention I never really paid attention in French. I just know how to tell them that I don’t know. You, on the other hand, you must’ve been very popular there.”

arlovasquez‌:

“I mean I’m sure someone could smell it on me, but because it’s Europe, no one really cared,” he said with a smirk. “I think he did have a beard later on in life. Well, there’s a self portrait oh him with a long white beard and I assume that’s what he actually looked like at the time? But yeah, there’s a theory that the Mona Lisa is actually just da Vinci in a dress. Maybe that’s why it’s so famous? Cause I honestly don’t know either.” 

“Yeah, they also smoke like chimneys over there. No one can probably smell anything.” Being European was its own culture for sure, especially being French. “I always think of that movie with the Looney Tunes because of that painting. At least I think that was a movie, I’m pretty sure I was a little out of it the first time I watched it.” He figured Arlo would know what he was insinuating. “Did they even have mirrors back then? How was he able to know what he looked like?”

quinnxarchibald‌:

Quinn was starting to feel thoroughly overwhelmed as he walked through the unfamiliar rooms, making small talk with people he really wanted to avoid. He had no idea how he’d ended up on the guest list, or how he’d been convinced to go to the party in the first place but here he was, trying not to sulk in a corner. He’d already seen Wren and had been busy trying to stay out of his way. Seeing the other male made his stomach twist in painful ways that made him want to drown himself in whatever the closest alcohol was.

After another near run in with his ex, Quinn was on his way to the bar when he ran into someone he felt stupid for forgetting. Ben. Of course Ben was here. Chessie had told him that the brunet was living with her and here Quinn was, being an idiot and walking right into the house. 

It took a moment for everything to sink in, for Ben’s words to really register, but once they did, Quinn’s eyes narrowed and he scoffed. “Yeah, it does. Are you gonna runaway this time too?” He asked coldly.

He felt like Quinn was closer to him than his own brother at one point. Until Ben fucked it all up. When he was a damsel in distress, Quinn swooped in and saved him. He literally risked his reputation for Ben and Ben paid it back by leaving the country. It was something that seemed right at the time to him. Now looking at Quinn, he knew it was all wrong. He tarnished their friendship. 

He nodded at Quinn’s comment, knowing that he deserved it at the very least. Ben deserved a lot more than that. Honestly, he would’ve run away if there was any room to. However, he felt virtually trapped. 

“No, I’m not,” He replied as he wiped his hand down his cheek nervously. Ben should have told him that he was back in town. Now here they were and he was feeling as tense as ever. Ben wanted to tell him how he should’ve mentioned he was back in town but he was too much of a coward. Instead, he’d continue with the small talk. “How has the city been treating you?”

quinnxarchibald‌:

“Oh my god, I feel like I haven’t had real social interaction in, like, two weeks. How am I even supposed to talk to people anymore?” Quinn asked, shaking his head as he watched the person sit down across from him. 

Ben looked at Quinn, before turning away. “Why would you want any socialization with anyone around here?” He asked, “I feel like it never ends well.” Ben could say that from personal experience with the last two parties he had attended. “Not to mention that most socialization happens through screens nowadays.”

chessieabernathy‌:

Central Park was simply an excuse for her to get ‘fresh air’ and sneak a couple cigarettes. Wren’s home was cozy, and he’d done all he could to make her feel welcome – But the security FREYA had close by, and permanent knots in her stomach didn’t help her relax. She’d managed to get out, a body guard turned ‘sober coach’ following close behind, making sure she was doing what she said she would. An all too familiar voice pulled her from the trance she’d fallen into – Staring into the lake, chain smoking. Trying not to get caught up in her own guilt. Turning her head, she frowned at the sight of him, before moving to face the lake once more. “Sounds like a shitty idea.” 

Ben Vanderbilt was one of the last people Chessie wanted to see. She hadn’t spoken to him since the party – Using the word ‘overdose’ was something she reserved for her doctor, rather than her own vocabulary – and was hoping she’d have some time recoup before running into him again. He had been part of it all, happily joined in when she brought the idea up. Chessie still felt responsible for it, as if she’d peer pressured him into joining her and Arlo, rather than him asking to join. She didn’t know anything that happened after – Heard snippets about who had been arrested, mostly details skewed by gossip magazines and tabloids. Ben had been arrested. She felt guilty for that, too.

Nothing horrible was supposed to happen that night. They were just supposed to get high and enjoy New Year’s Eve. “Are you just going to turn down any ideas I have? Because that’ll save us a lot of time.” He pointed out. He wanted to ask how she was. After what happened, he was very concerned about her wellbeing. At least she wasn’t a ghost or anything. Her OD sparked a trigger in his brain, to the night that guy did the same thing but his fate wasn’t as lucky as hers. He was no good around here, his thought process was always fucked up around here. 

“How about you give me a cigarette and that way we’ll have to stand here for a few minutes at least,” He suggested. Being around O’s place without Chessie was weird. He was used to their morning talks over coffee and smoking. Now that place felt a lot quieter without her, but that was probably also because the other two women living with him were pissed. “I’m not used to having my morning coffee without you. “Are you going to come back soon?” He asked for his own selfish reasons.