Kirbcy‌:

nathaliexkirbey‌:

With a halfhearted smile at the barista in front of her, Nathalie handed over her money with one hand while the other clenched her phone a bit too tightly. Hanging up from a phone call with her mother where she endured the same questions about her wedding that she’d been answering for months already, all she could look forward to was getting a bit of caffeine in her system so she could keep her eyes open for longer than ten minutes. While she was waiting for her coffee to be handed over to her, she felt like someone was standing close behind her and when she turned her head to ask them to take a step back, recognized them. “Could you move back a bit?” Nat asked. “You’re hovering.”

Ben was a coffee guy now. He hadn’t been before Europe, but during that excursion he realized that most Europeans drink coffee religiously and smoke socially. Both habits he had picked up there. Wanting to get his fix, mixed with a lack of understanding personal space, he was fidgeting behind someone as he waited for his coffee. “Shit, sorry,” Of course he made a bad impression on a Kirbey. He was trying so hard for King, but this was hard for him. Immediately, he smiled at her, trying to keep the mood light. “Next time you can just push me back, I wouldn’t mind,” He said with a shrug. “What kind of coffee are you waiting for?”

wrenabernathy‌:

Wren felt like an outsider - and it felt strange. He’d mostly been observing the other people, laughing and drinking in the atmosphere of the holidays, and Wren was usually a sucker for events like that, but everything had been clouded with misery the last few days. Still, he’d resolved himself to get over it, to make himself happy without Quinn waiting for him somewhere, because if he wanted his relationship with Nathalie to work that’s what it would take. Didn’t mean it was easy, though. “I would guess that if Santa has the ability to visit all homes across the world in a single night, he also has the ability to not get drunk,” he replied dryly as he faced Ben. 

He wished that Wren at least entertained his comment. “Or maybe that makes him work even faster. You’d be surprised what others think they can do when they’re that inebriated,” When he was abroad and that drunk, he felt invincible. Maybe a fictional character would feel the same. “It’s just interesting to think that children are very adamant about putting out beer. And here we’re all about milk.” He said with a shrug. “Would you rather have beer or milk?”

kingkirbey‌:

King watched Ben work himself into a state, hating how helpless she felt. As much as she wanted to tell him that Quinn would eventually forgive him — that he had to — she knew her words would be empty. Quinn was practically a stranger to her, she knew only as much about him as Ben had told her, and she definitely didn’t know how quick he would be to forgive something that had taken such a toll on his life. “Being here is trying. And if he doesn’t see that you’re doing what you can to make it right, maybe his friendship isn’t meant to be.” King hated to be so blunt about the situation, but in her eyes it was the truth. If Quinn couldn’t see the obvious effort Ben was making to make things right, then screw him. “As much as I would really, really love that, I think it would be rude of us to ditch this party when the hostess’ are letting us crash in their guest room and drink all of their coffee for free. But we could take shots out here until your face doesn’t hurt anymore?” Moving to the counter, she plucked a bottle of tequila from the mess of half empty alcohol bottles held it up with a triumphant smile. “Isolating ourselves in the kitchen doesn’t technically count as ditching.”

Out of everyone he’s ever known, King could always cheer him right up and get him out of his own funk. Who knows where he’d be now if she didn’t find him in some shit bar in Italy? Having to accept the loss of such a close friendship wasn’t something Ben could swallow. This wasn’t supposed to end like this. Then again, what happy ending ever happened to him? “You’re right,” He admitted, at least he was offering Quinn an olive branch. It just sucked that this wasn’t going to work out. He slid off of the stool he was on and dragged his feet as he walked, “Damn us for being so polite,” He joked, “And for having a coffee addiction,” He rubbed his hands together in excitement at the mention of shots. “If we were in Germany, we’d be having Cinnamon with these shots, I miss tequila oro,” He pointed out. No one would probably miss them in here anyway. “Here’s to getting punched in the face.”

seboriley‌:

“That is what I’m here for, my friend,” Sebastian assures, clapping his hand down hard on Ben’s shoulder blade, tapering it off with a couple more pats as he prepares a couple of the aforementioned shots with two easy pours. Well, easy if you didn’t pay too much mind to the little puddle forming beneath them, slicking up the bottoms of the glasses. “I’m a lot younger than that tower,” Seb mocks, feigning a cheap English accent he’s definitely learned from Harry Potter marathons. “Ugh. Can’t it be your New Year’s resolution to take shots without a chaser or something? I’m getting very tired of tracking them down for you.” His temper dissipates just as quickly as it forms, though, and he’s already turning towards the kitchen to start a hunt for limes, shot glasses balanced between his thumb and forefinger on either hand. “But, since it’s the holidays, I’ll make an exception.”

He wanted to be as drunk as Sebastian was at this point. A shot or two would for sure send him that way. “You need to work on your accent.” Ben could probably do a better accent than him at this point.  “Can it be your resolution to stop complaining so much? I’m asking for one thing. It’s good that you’re exercising that brain of yours.” He teased. If Sebastian was going to tease him, he was going to do it right back. “I’ll take pretty much anything at this point, my regard for taste is going out the window.” 

kingkirbey‌:

The second she saw Ben, King gravitated toward him, taking in his bloodied face and stained shirt. She hadn’t seen the fight but she’d heard about it immediately, the news traveling fast through the penthouse. “Jesus.” It was all she could manage to get out as she pushed him back into the kitchen and onto a bar stool. Wordlessly, she went to grab a rag and wet it in the sink, coming back to press it to Ben’s nose. She worked in silence for a few moments, tending to the crusted blood on his face before she took a deep breath and looked him in the eye. “This was still a good idea. You know it was.” It was hard to look at him and believe her own words, but she knew the guilt he carried with him would end up hurting him much more than any punch Quinn could throw. “This obviously isn’t a great start to the conversation. But.. it’ll get better with him. At least you’re trying.”

These parties never ended well. Shit always went down. Here he was thinking he was past all that drama, thinking he was way too mature for this shit. “I don’t know if I’m even trying. I couldn’t say anything to him. It was hard to even look at him. I just froze like an idiot and asked him how things were,” Ben just wanted to disappear. No, fuck that, he wanted to run. His face hurt, his hands hurt, everything fucking hurt. “What if it doesn’t? I fucked up. Quinn still seems pretty damn mad,” He just wanted to go back with King to Italy or Greece, hell even Lithuania. But part of him was doing this for her. He didn’t want her having to deal with his guilt all their lives. “I’d rather just back to our room and drink with you for the rest of the night.” That would really make him forget about the whole fight. 

 taterodriguez‌:

With everything that had been going on in Tate’s life in the last few weeks, any excuse to drink was welcomed in fact encouraged so they weren’t spending their evening alone with a bottle of vodka at Howl.  When they received their invitation from O, it was a hard offer to turn down.  So, Tate slipped into a simple but elegant jumpsuit and threw on their favourite pair of Stuart Weitzman booties before they made their way to O’s apartment.

Upon their arrival, Tate made a beeline to the kitchen to prepare their self a double vodka soda, skipping the wine this evening and shooting straight for the hard stuff.  They were unsure of what events would unravel this evening, but Tate honestly couldn’t care less since there was free alcohol and many places for them to hide.

Instead of seeking an immediate place of refuge, Tate hoisted their self onto the counter of the island in the centre of the kitchen in attempt to remain close to the free booze.  As Tate sipped on their vodka soda, the sound of approaching footsteps went unnoticed until they heard a voice beside them.  “Oh,” Tate exclaimed.  “Didn’t think I’d see you here.”

Living with Chessie and O for the past few weeks meant that Ben was pretty familiar with the kitchen. And since he had to throw away a napkin, he figured he could do it himself. Ben stopped in his tracks when he saw Tate. He was caught off guard that someone else was in the kitchen. Nevertheless, he gave them a slight smile. 

"Surprisingly, you’re not the first person who has said that to me tonight,” Ben added with a shrug. “I’ve been crashing with O and Chessie so I know where a lot of things around here are. I even know which toilet is the best to use in the house,” He joked. “What are you doing in here? I’m honestly thinking about copying you and staying here for the rest of the party. Do you mind if I join you?”

arlovasquez‌:

“I’ve travelled quite a bit, actually. Did some before I turned twenty-one and it was one of the best decisions of my life.” Arlo paused, looking around the room a moment before bringing his attention back. “I mean I still travel when I get the chance to, but it’s less frequent now.”

“Same. Out of all the places, I have to say Greece was the best out of all the places I’ve visited. It was warm there,” which he was a huge fan of, “I married my wife there, and there were stray dogs everywhere. Do you know how many times I wanted to take home a dog?” He asked rhetorically. “Have you ever been piss drunk in the middle of Venice before? It’s pretty dangerous.”

arlovasquez‌:

Arlo stood at the sidelines, watching the other guests laughing and drinking. Not that he was having a bad time by any means, but he just needed a moment to step to the side and be a watcher, not a participant. 

He turned to the person beside him and listened for a moment, a small smile on his face. “The legal drinking age over there is 18 and the man is ancient. I’m sure they think he’ll be fine.”

Wow, that smile was pretty contagious. Ben looked down as he caught himself smiling back. He always found it better to conceal any emotion, even if it was just a friendly one. “Every other place has a lower drinking age than here,” However that never stopped Ben from having his first drink as a young teenager. Having alcohol at events just seemed like part of growing up. “Have you ever been abroad before?”

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. 

arlovasquez‌:

The days crawled by with little to no brightness to them; not in a physical sense but within his mind. Everything to Arlo was bleak and dark. He hadn’t smoked, painted, or done anything productive in days. This was the first day he’d actually gotten the motivation to put on regular clothes and head out for a walk.

And he walked for hours because he knew if he stopped, he wouldn’t want to keep going. But he needed to get something to drink, so he stepped inside a small coffee shop of 34th and ordered a black coffee, setting his stuff on a table near the window and gazing out.

“Fuck.”

It was just by coincidence that he had spotted Arlo. In fact, Ben wouldn’t dare set his feet in a “hipster” coffee shop. He was too good for New York Hipsters. However, he stopped in his tracks when he saw Arlo. Before he could stop himself, he was inside. And approaching the other man. 

“Arlo.” He stated, “You look worse than I do.” He wanted to ask how he was since everything went down. He hadn’t spoken much to anyone since the arrest. Maybe that was because he was also keeping himself in isolation. “How are you?” He finally blurted after the internal struggle his brain was creating inside. “How’s your place since everything went down?” He didn’t remember much about the cops coming in but he figured it would’ve been left a mess from them at least.