Monty-santos‌:

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.”

kirbcy‌:

Bishop was supposed to be nice, but the feeling of even being a little tongue in cheek had long since left his demeanor. Something about Ben, standing there, pretending to even give a little of a shit fundamentally irritated the shit out of him. “Then why are you talking to me? Because here’s the way I see it, Vanderbilt. You’re attempting to do whatever this is in attempt to smooth over the fact that you married my sister without so much as a thought to her brother who may want to fucking attend. Further, I doubt you even pushed her to talk to me, or say anything, or come the fuck home. No. You don’t get to slither into my life pretending to be a friend when you’d rather remind everyone how much you’d rather be in Europe or some bullshit. Go back then. Or at least save me the act.”

“I’m not talking to you out of guilt, trust me,” Honestly, he didn’t feel bad about not pushing King to come home. Not when he didn’t want to come home in the first place. Was New York even considered home anymore? “If it makes you feel better, no one is invited,” It was a spur of the moment thing. Ben wouldn’t have wanted a wedding with family members in attendance anyway, he liked the spontaneity. “I get it, you’re pissed at her, but she really does love you,” He reminded Bishop, “I’m talking to you because you look like you could use some company, Bishop. This party’s supposed to be fun,” This was ironic considering Ben was usually the one who was being miserable. “Oh we’ll be going back, I just have to take care of a few things first. It’s nice over there since we don’t have people at our throats all the time.” If Bishop wanted to push him away, he was going to go along with it. At least he could tell King he tried.

monty-santos‌:

“I don’t know, not all mall Santas are that way.  Or I”m assuming, I don’t actually know,” Monty shrugged, though he couldn’t really imagine places hiring drunks for a job that required them to be around children all day, “I don’t think so, it’s jsut for the donkey.  Though any kid who sends letters to Santa gets a response, which I think is pretty cool.” 

He was just going by the reputation that mall Santas had. They were always a version of a bum. “Who the hell is writing all of those letters back to those kids?” Someone had way too much time on their hands. “I think France should be focusing on other things, if it were up to me,” Then again he wasn’t in the French Parliament. “I spent some time there, I would know. They also aren’t huge fans of Americans, especially when I told them that I was from the City.” 

@monty-santos

It was that strange time between Christmas and New Years Eve which meant plenty of tourists. Even on the Upper East Side. They were everywhere. Over the course of the past week, he had been thinking about Monty and his offer to volunteer. He’d never volunteer, ever. However, it didn’t hurt to at least check out one of the shelters he was talking about. And by checking out, he was just standing near it. When Ben was a bit tense, his automatic response was to take out a cigarette from his pack and light it up. He was still uncomfortable in the city, he felt like all eyes were on him. Whether that was the case or not was yet to be determined. 

Speaking of the Devil, or rather Angel in this case, Ben perked up. What were the odds? He threw his cigarette on the floor dramatically. For some reason, he wanted to be good for Monty. Or rather when he was around him. Sort of like how he was with King. He liked to think that Monty was a good influence. “Hey,” Ben tried to act casual, as if it was the norm to see him around here. “I’m really over this weather. I wouldn’t mind if the weather did a complete one eighty,” And that was true. He missed the warmth. “What are you doing around here?” He asked, hoping Monty wouldn’t inquire about him. 

monty-santos‌:

“Yeah, just talk to my father, or Buffy Seymour and you’ll find that I’m really not that popular of a person,” Monty shrugged, shaking his head a little ad the idea, “Yeah, I guess that I was? I mean I was mostly doing volunteer work, so it’s hard to be mad at someone doing that.”

“I’ll pass on both of those people, thanks though,” He couldn’t imagine ever disliking Monty. Monty showed that there was actually a chance that good people could be raised around here. He wasn’t one of those good people, but it was nice to know that there was at least one. “I don’t wanna be too presumptuous but I also feel like you had to have been a responsible nice guy out there. I think the French like that in a person. It shows you have a strong character.” Maybe it was the buzz that was making Ben turn into Dr. Phil.

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. 

monty-santos‌:

“Well it depends if you’re planning on paying for me, because if you aren’t there’s no way that I can afford it,” Monty chuckled, despite the fact that he was completely serious about it.  “When I was in France I was working a lot with building houses for the homeless, pretty similar to habitat for humanity.  And then since I’ve gotten back here I’ve been working with one of the local homeless shelters.”

Ben wasn’t generous with his money or time by any means. He used to be pretty careless with his money, he still was. But now he made sure that exclusively applied to him. “Maybe you have to start getting paid for all your work,” Ben knew that he wouldn’t be okay with not getting paid or just volunteering. That wasn’t his forte at all. “Do you know if you’re going to go back?” Most of the time, he ignored homeless people on the streets. It was an unspoken rule for New Yorkers to just ignore them. It didn’t mean it was right by any means but that’s what he was always taught to do. “Is there enough space for all of them when it’s snowing like this?” It was an ignorant question for sure, but Ben had no idea.

taterodriguez‌:

Tate wanted nothing more than to travel and given the amount of success they’ve had in their life, most people would assume that they’ve gotten the chance to but in all honesty, they haven’t.  Not in the way they want to.  Most of their travelling had been for business meetings and publicity events regarding their book.  Those types of trips didn’t leave much time for leisure.  It was typically all work and no play.  “I tend to avoid those types of event,” Tate admitted.  “Crowds can get a little overwhelming.”

“Did something happen?”  Tate asked, genuinely curious.  “I can’t imagine travelling Europe got boring.”  The last word came out more bitter than intended.  “I mean, c’mon… Europe.  Compared to the Upper East Side?  You couldn’t pay me to come home.”  Tate chuckled, wishing it was something they had truly been able to do.  “Eugh!  Raspberry flavored vodka tastes like paint thinner.”

“As native New Yorkers, I feel like it’s only natural to hate crowds. I always avoided using any sort of public transit,” Well because there were a lot of people and because he never had to. He had people to literally drive him around. 

“No,” The word almost came out defensively. “It has just been a while since I’ve been home. We’ll go back because honestly, I still have more than enough places I want to go to. Have you ever been?” He knew how to lie, thankfully. He did it most of his life here thanks to the virtual double life he was leading. Don’t explain more than you have to. Ben then tilted his head at them. That was a very specific comparison. “Have you had a bad experience with raspberry flavored?” He was the same way with Bacardi rum in particular. 

wrenabernathy‌:

Getting out of the house for non-work-related events for the first time in almost three weeks was a thing in itself, but Wren also felt like he was being watched with every step he took. That’s Wren Abernathy, his sister is the one who overdosed on New Year’s Eve, he could hear all around him. And even though he knew it was just all in his mind, it made him uber-conscious of every move he made.

So, instead of looking for the crowds, Wren was happy to find his favorite café and make his way all the way to the back to sit at the tiny round table. He’d been reading the newspaper for a few minutes when he heard glass falling and looked up to the barista who’d dropped things, and then couldn’t help but recognize the person standing just a few feet away from him. “Oh,” he said as the other also seemed to notice Wren. “Hi.”

Cafe’s reminded him of Europe. Well, sort of. Anything was better than Starbucks. Ben was longing for a pastry which is why he ended up inside in the first place. And then he saw Chessie’s brother. Shit. 

“Hey Wren,”  He said. He wasn’t sure if Wren got the full rundown of events that had occurred o New Year’s Eve. Did he know that Ben was with Chessie when she OD’ed? “How’s your sister?” He couldn’t help but ask. All of this felt too familiar and he was going to ask if she was alright any chance that he got.