Buffy-seymour‌:

chessieabernathy‌:

“We do,” she clarifies with a nod, “S’like the we’re the royal family when we’re in Alabama. Paparazzi crashed by tenth birthday party.” Chessie shrugged at his comment, before rolling her eyes at him. The latter was becoming common practice when it came to Ben, the motion never meant maliciously. “You missed the giant FREYA billboard with my face on it in Time Square, didn’t you?” She asked with a laugh, taking a sip of her drink. “I technically have a body guard, you know. The FREYA board’s worried I’ll get jumped my some insta-stalker, or something.” Chessie hadn’t spoken much about the former, finding it stranger to think of herself as an object rather than a person. “I gave him the night off, though.” The mention of the connection between gin and psychopaths pulls a loud bark of laughter from her, “Well, shit, B. Just call me Norman fuckin’ Bates, then.” 

“They were really on your ass. And that’s why I never want to live in the South,” He joked. Of course, if he did, he wouldn’t have been royalty like Chessie but he wouldn’t have been happy if anyone crashed his tenth birthday party. Or any party for that matter. “You’re lucky if I even look up. I don’t think I’ve taken in New York since I was twelve.” Everything felt old to him. Not to mention he avoided Times Square at all costs. “I’ve noticed most people in New York mind their own business unless they’re a crazed tourist. That’s who you probably have to worry about the most.” He looked at her with a tilted head, “You wish you were Norman Bates,” He laughed, “I’m not sure you could pull that off, Chessie. Not gonna lie. Would you be that dedicated to pretending to be your mother as well?” His filter was pretty much gone at this point.

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.

monty-santos‌:

“That actually sounds pretty dangerous, but considering the magic involved I’m sure that if Santa were real there’d be some sort of spell that kept him from blacking out,” Monty shrugged, “though in France the kids fill their shoes with carrots because Santa has a donkey instead of reindeer. Which I guess is a lot healthier than the options they give everywhere else.”

"It wouldn’t be much of a stretch from mall Santa’s,” Ben added, “I feel sorry for whoever’s forced to sit on their laps,” One of the perks of growing up wealthy was never having to sit on a sketchy man’s lap. “Do you know what they give Santa or does just his donkey get stuff?” He asked.

arlovasquez‌:

chessieabernathy‌:

She wasn’t sure if it was the coke itself, or the mixture of it with the alcohol – But it didn’t take long for Chessie to feel the effects, smile at her lips. At the sight of Arlo dong his first line, she clapped for him, genuinely proud of him while in this state. “Don’t listen to Ben,” she gives the other man a pointed look, before using the last of the bag to cut three more lines once the mirror made its way back to her. “S’easier than you’d think.” Chessie confirms with a nod, before taking the bill from Ben, inhaling the line with ease. The burn is gone, now. Her face is numb, but Chessie hardly notices, letting her head fall onto Arlo’s shoulder, hand absentmindedly fiddling with the leather harness he was wearing. “Have you guys ever tried like – Speedballing?” She questions after a beat, words slurring. “I tried to get more blow from Ro, but he was being a fuckhead, so I ended up talking to this random guy at the snack table — And he sold me this shit for like,” she pauses for a moment, train of thought briefly lost as she tries to recount the price. “I’unno, but it’s supposed to be good shit.” 

In the few brief moments that passed, Arlo could feel the effects of the cocaine on his body. He could feel the seconds his pupil’s dilated and his body temperature rising; his heart beat also picked up. But he didn’t feel any different than before, just more secure in himself. 

“The masters, eh? It’s nice to learn from someone who knows what they’re doing. When I first started smoking pot, I had no fucking clue what to do,” he said with a chuckle. “But here we are!” 

Arlo cocked his head, turning to Chessie again. “Speedballing? Isn’t that when it’s an upper and a downer mixed or some shit?” 

“Always listen to me, okay? I’m always right.” Ben insisted. “This is a lot better than pot.” Ben pointed out. Doing coke was like no other sensation in the world. He couldn’t believe he was away from it for so long. He then watched Chessie inhale as the cocaine settled into his system. 

“I don’t know what you call it down south but I’ve always heard it’s called a Powerball,” He teased with a shrug. Speedballing was definitely the more popular name. He had never particularly speedballed, mainly because he was not that experimentative with his drugs. Once he found cocaine, he knew that was pretty much his calling. Nevertheless, he knew what she meant. “Rowan didn’t give you more? That’s fucked up.” He exclaimed, clearly a bit out of it. “This other guy must be a superhero.” 

oatanas‌:

After having been out of town on a business trip the last two weeks, O was in desperate need of a night off. The crowd of people in her house was less than ideal (she always preferred to be a party goer, rather than a party host) but she tried not to dwell on that. “Just so you’re aware, if you spill that on my white rug I will kill you,” she remarked, topping up the glass of the guest in question, only half joking.

He thought he was a pretty great house guest so far. Ben always took his shoes off when he entered. So when he requested a drink and basically got reprimanded, he wanted to at least give a sassy remark back. That’s what people did around here. However, he knew better. He was just lucky he had a place to stay. “I can hold my liquor, don’t worry,” Alcohol tasted different overseas and felt a lot more strong, “I’ll be willing to act as security for this party if you’d like. Even one glance at this rug, and they’re out of here.” He was only half joking as well. He’d do it to show his gratitude. “How was your trip?” Ben asked, trying to make conversation.

 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?”

chessieabernathy‌:

“S’a bit like the pot calling the kettle black, don’t you think?” She was quick to fire back, a chuckle passing her lips as she spoke. This was nothing short of normal for them, sharing a smoke, poking fun at one another. “Sounds like it made you more of what you are.” Another laugh passes, as she gives him a matter-of-fact look. The mention of beer pulls an eye roll from her, “Christ, B. You and your fucking beer. You’re practically cheating on King with it.” Chessie teased, “I’ve traveled a bit for Fashion Week, but not as much as I’d like. Never picked up a love for beer, though. Gin is still number one in my heart.”

“That’s exactly how I like my coffee.” He retorted. “Shut up,” He chuckled, “I can’t help it, I’m a Vanderbilt.” That was his excuse for everything. Maybe that’s part of the reason why he ran away, he needed to see who he was outside of being a fucked up Vanderbilt. “I’m going to keep talking about it until you have a bottle or two with me. That’s just how it’s going to go,” He said with a shrug. “For the record, though, I’d choose King over beer if I had to choose.” Ben loved his wife more than any drink. “You do know what they say about people who prefer gin, right?”

quinnxarchibald‌:

Quinn startled for a second as Ben changed the subject. He looked up at the brunet, eyes widening slightly. “Yeah, yeah I heard about that.” He replied. He’d wanted to reach out to his former friend, wanted to make sure that Ben was okay but he hadn’t. Not out of malice but because he had no idea what to say. He wanted to talk about it but even now it seemed that the other male didn’t want to. “Yeah, the 80s definitely seemed a lot simpler. They had their problems though. I guess there have to be trade offs.” Quinn said before adding softly “How are you doing? After everything?”

It was hard with Quinn. He wanted to tell Quinn every single problem that he was having. It felt natural to do that, and yet he knew he couldn’t. He didn’t have that part in Quinn’s life anymore thanks to his own mistakes. It was hard to not have anyone to talk to. “I’m glad we’re just not still having a big hair trend. That seemed horrible,” He said with a sigh of relief. With Quinn’s question, he immediately opened his mouth up but stopped himself from saying anything. They weren’t best friends, they were estranged best friends. He couldn’t tell her anything, could he? Not when he hadn’t even apologized yet. “I’m fine. Things are a bit tense with King but I guess that happens when you’re in the wrong place at the wrong time.” He shrugged, trying not to make a big deal of it.

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. 

chessieabernathy‌:

“I guess that’s one way of seeing it,” she grumbles, silently wishing Gossip Girl didn’t have such an effect on her. Truthfully, ever since the FREYA board told her to clean up her act, the anonymous blog has become a consistent place she visits, terrified that she’ll find a secret of hers posted. She had too many things to hide, too much to lose. “I appreciate the solidarity, thanks,” Chessie chuckled, rolling her eyes at him, happy to keep the subject moving. The mention of the bartender brings another laugh, a shoulder shrugged soon after. “Oh, well. It’ll give me a story to tell about the time he met Francesca Abernathy,” she teased, putting on her best ‘high society’ voice as she said her own name. “King may be into this –” she gestured to him, laughing lightly. “Greaser-esque look. But you just look ridiculous to me.”

Gossip Girl wasn’t really a constant in his life for the past few years, so he wasn’t going to start reading it religiously now. “I’m just looking for an excuse to do it. It’d only be acceptable if you were doing it too,” He admitted as he looked at the brunette. “People will probably melt in their boots from jealousy when they hear about you.” Ben teased. "This is the European look, not a Danny Zuko one,” He replied, motioning towards his face. “You’d know that if you lived there for as long as I did.” Ben was going to remind everyone that he was abroad at least once a day.