taterodriguez‌:

 taterodriguez‌:

For the entirety of the holidays, Tate took it upon their self to hide within the confines of their apartment with a hefty bottle of vodka because the holidays were the time of year Tate dreaded the most.  The most Christmasy thing that Tate could bring their self to do was exchange gifts with Monty, Quinn, and Lorraine.  Other than that, Tate had been curled up on their couch clutching on to the bottle of vodka for dear life.

After a few days, Tate figured it was about time to emerge from their self induced isolation.  They found their self sitting at the bar, sipping a vodka soda, and nibbling on a basket of french fries.  As footsteps approached, a grumble fell through their lips.  “If you wish me a belated Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays or whatever else… I might throw this drink in your face.”

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Alcohol was a remedy he turned to during his detoxing period. It was virtually the reason why he got through it. It had a special place in his heart because of that. And because he loved alcohol, especially beer. He hated all the boujee liquor that everyone had around here. He wanted the hard stuff and before he knew it, he was inside of a bar. 

As soon as he spotted Tate, he lifted himself out of the bar stool and over towards where they were. It was better to mope together, he thought. “I’m not going to do any of that,” He revealed to them, “Although if the drink’s good, I’m always up for a taste.” He loved to mooch off of others. “I’d offer to share my Heineken but I’m not sure that you’d enjoy it.”

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6 years ago

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.”

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"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. 

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6 years ago

arlovasquez‌:

chessieabernathy‌:

She hardly hears what the say, focus taken by the small bag they’re passing around. Part of her immediately regrets letting Arlo take the first hit, purely from her own impatience. It’s a bad idea, intentionally taking something laced, especially given her current state – But thanks to the high she’s already riding, Chessie doesn’t care. With a smile, she takes the bag from Ben, staring at it for a moment with bottom lip caught between her teeth. 

She cuts a line, and takes it with ease. Eyes falling shut soon after, she wipes at her nose to get rid of any excess, sniffling in the process. Breathing deeply, she nods, “S’fuckin’ lovely.” Chessie settles with, words slightly slurred, as she turns to Arlo with a grin, confirming his words from a moment ago. “I wish I would have got more,” she continues, a certain dizziness finding her after. Had the room always been spinning? Trying to disregard it, Chessie dips her finger into the small bag, picking up the last of the contents to rub against her gums. Trying to enjoy the moment, she takes a deep breath in, pushing her hair out of her face and behind her ears – Instead of commenting on how hot the room had begun to feel, or the way her heart was slamming against her chest. 

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“Honestly? I think I’m okay without any more. I feel absolutely wonderful and like I could do anything,” Arlo said, leaning himself back to lay on the floor. 

When he got high with marijuana, the room would become less focused and almost whimsical in a way. Things would shift ever so lightly but everything would feel light to him in the process. With cocaine, however, he was finding himself sharp and focused, a welcome difference. 

“I can hear the music really well,” he said pushing himself up to stand. “Chessie, you should dance with me!” He extended a hand towards her. 

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Could she really handle more? Damn, he was impressed. Here he was assuming Chessie would be the lightweight out of all of them when it was really him. That’s what he gets for not doing this shit for two years. He was pretty content for now. He felt like he could be anything he wanted to be at this point. King Kong, Jeff Goldblum. Whoever he wanted to be thanks to Chessie and Arlo for sharing their stash. 

With a nod, he agreed with Arlo, “I’m good right now.” He said as he leaned back more. “Ben watched Arlo invite Chessie up, perfectly content to stay on the floor. “Yeah, you two do that.” He said with a laugh, “In the meantime, I’ll be looking for my beer.” 

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6 years ago

chessieabernathy‌:

Chessie had come to enjoy the company of both King and Ben. And with O having been gone, she’d become accustom to sharing her coffee pot and a cigarette with Ben in the morning. She held him in high regards – Mostly because what she knew about him was second-hand from Sebastian years ago. The latter had adored the other man, so Chessie had no reason to hold a grudge. Or create one. “Craft beer?” She took faux offense to his comment about champagne, before a loud bark of laughter passed her lips. “We drink liquor in this house, Ben.”

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Ben quickly shook his head at her. “Chessie.” He could barely speak, in shock that someone would insult craft beer. “Have you ever had a beer before? Because you should know nothing else compares to some ice cold beer,” He insisted. “However, if I have to have some liquor,” He tried to give a bit of a fancy accent with the last word, “I’d prefer anything but champagne. How can we make that happen?” 

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6 years ago

duchessb‌:

   “They might let them believe in Santa longer then. Beer is more accessible to most father’s sitting around wrapping presents for kids. And to be honest let’s think about this… children with dads did have a Santa Klaus if you think about it because it’s some man who drinks and shows up to give you presents and acts like he’s owed something for it.” A shrug lifts Beau’s shoulders as she glances over to Ben, pursing her lips for a moment. She wasn’t sure what caused her to go off on that tangent, but she could blame Chessie’s plying her with Champagne, if nothing else.

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“Or their father might just tell them the truth.” That’s what Ben’s dad did after he moped one too many times about not being able to see Santa deliver gifts. “Good for them for still being able to wrap nicely. Maybe we should just be getting rid of the Santa myth and giving the load of work to dads. ” Were all dads that fucked up? “Yeah, that’s the difference between milk and beer. Milk makes Santa seem so pure, I guess and beer makes me think he has an alcohol problem.” Ben said with a shrug. “At least if he was having champagne, it’d make me think he was a man of superior taste.”

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6 years ago

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.

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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?”

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6 years ago

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?”

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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.”

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6 years ago

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.”

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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.”

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6 years ago

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.”

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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.

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benvanderbilt - i don't care about being good.
i don't care about being good.

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