Seboriley‌:

chessieabernathy‌:

Ben didn’t pry, and Chessie gave him the same respect – It’s what made her enjoy their banter, knowing he wasn’t going to bother her about who she’d slept with recently, nor would she ask him about Quinn. She gave him an eye roll, a scoff following, as if he’d insinuated something beneath her. “I can name a few things I’d rather do than drink an ‘ice cold beer’, but I don’t want to scare the rest of the guests with graphics,” Chessie poked, before gesturing to the bar they had set up in the corner of the living room. “If you stopped your moping for half a second, you wouldn’t have missed one important detail.”

“Please don’t. Let's keep this party PG-13. It’s fine, no one around here could even come close to making the beer they had in Greece. It was amazing,” Ben was always reminiscing. “Hey, I am not moping. That’d mean that I’m trying to have a bad time and I’m not trying to have a bad time at all. I’m just waiting for the drama because I know it’s inevitable,” He considered himself above drama and all of the Upper East Side antics at this point in his life. “I guess I’m going to have to have a gin and tonic like a barbarian.” He was teasing her completely, only because he liked the wisecracks they were both able to deliver. 

monty-santos‌:

“I’ve been back since the day after Freya’s funeral, I couldn’t be a ticket back in time,” Monty sighed, a shadow passing over his face as he had yet another reminder of all the death that had decided to come for his family this year.  And while he tried to push the unexpected pangs of grief back tot he back of his head, Monty knew that it was still probably written all over his face.  “I actually don’t really drink anymore, to be honest. I mean, I’m still working on completely stopping, but I actually converted to Buddhism and it’s greatly looked down upon since you’re supposed to abstain from things that can cloud the mind. But I will take any other recommendations that you’ve got.  Are you planning on going to France at some point soon?” he asked, mostly out of curiosity.  “I’ve gotten the word out and a few people have.  Sheridan, I don’t know if you’ve met her yet, actually donated what I’m pretty sure was about half a Target.  So it helps, there’s just also need for more.”

He had heard things, heard about people dying but they could’ve been just rumors. Unfortunately, they weren’t. “Shit, you’re really a Buddhist now? What do you do if you don’t drink now?” He asked, thoroughly confused. “I don’t know if I can recommend anything else since that counts out everything else,” Ben was always into clouding his judgment, “I’m not sure when we’re going to go back. I have some things to do here and then hopefully that’ll be one of the first stops.” He was optimistic that they wouldn’t be here for too long. “Nope, I haven’t met her yet,” He actually didn’t mind being out of the loop abroad but now that he was home, he was curious about everything. “At least someone’s helping out that’s got the money.”

chessieabernathy‌:

“Quinn didn’t hit you so hard you forgot why everyone stayed over last night, right?“ She pointed out the obvious, nodding to the snow piled up on the terrace. Chessie paused for a moment, before grumbling as she sat her mug on the counter with a dramatic thud. “Fine,” Her resolve didn’t last long.The desire to smoke easily outweighed the desire to stay inside. “I’ll go put on pants,” she grumbled as she walked away, leaving him to return to her room and change. It only took a moment – Swapping her robe for a pair of sweats and an old Yale sweatshirt, pack of cigarettes and lighter in hand. Holding them up for him to see, Chessie gave him a smirk. “Happy now?”

Was that anyone that didn’t hear about that? “I know why everyone had to stay over, I remember most of the night,” He knew there were some fuzzy moments but for the most part, he remembered the big details like getting punched in the face. Ben poured himself a cup of coffee as he waited for her to come back out, changed appropriately for the weather. He took a sip before she returned and then greeted her with a nod. “As happy as I’ll ever be,” He teased, before heading towards the door. It was a lot colder than he expected but he figured he’d warm up soon as soon as his cigarette was lit. “So did anything eventful happen last night? Besides Quinn taking a sucker punch at me?” It wasn’t an Upper East Side party without shit happening. 

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?”

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.”

quinnxarchibald‌:

“I dunno, called me? Sent me a facebook message? Something!” Quinn replied, throwing his hands in the air in frustration and surrender. “Why? Why did you come back for me? Wasn’t leaving bad enough?” He snapped. “You had your life over in Europe, why throw that away?” He then asked, hating that Ben wasn’t looking at him. Hating that this was what their relationship had become. He needed answers though and couldn’t wait for Ben to be ready to talk.

“I don’t use social media and I didn’t know if your number was the same,” It was a lame excuse but he figured it was also better to talk to him in person. “Because I screwed you over, Quinn. That’s why. I fucked your life up,” He admitted, “That night... what I asked you to do, it’s all I can think about.” It was eating him up inside. It took months and months of convincing. He knew that talking to Quinn was eventually going to happen. He just didn’t want to do it at a party.

bishopkirbcy‌:

News and rumors traveled fast around here. Bishop was no stranger to that. Despite how much he didn’t like the other man, he was at last attempting some level of friendliness. His sister was a stranger, but she still had the Kirbey name, so there was something to that. And he still had the Vanderbilt name. Whatever that meant, because neither Ben nor King seemed to care for the title. “She does.” Bishop’s voice was blunt, his eye ticking to look at Ben without moving his head. “I really haven’t the inclination to do the cliche winter in New York that people make Instagram famous.” Bishop’s instagram had been lacking in posts for months now. Same with his twitter. The last tweet was in reference to Blur burning down and his condolences. “I guess both that and skinny dipping would be rock bottom, truthfully.” 

He stared at the other man. A part of him was weary as to why Bishop was even continuing the conversation. He made it clear that he didn’t want anything to do with Ben. And that was enough for Ben to give up. “There’s a reason why I haven’t posted on social media in years,” He mentioned, “Trust me. Instagram fame isn’t it at all. Social media’s fake. It’s unhealthy,” He lectured even though Bishop didn’t ask for one. “But I do think it’d be very entertaining to be in trouble for skinny dipping out of everything. I’d do it if the police weren’t up my ass.”

quinnxarchibald‌:

Quinn shook his head as he continued to pull Ben to the side, into an empty area of the house. “Nope. You’re not getting out of this. Don’t worry. I got the punching out of my system. Sorry about that by the way.” He replied, nodding toward the brunet’s face. Pausing for a moment to recollect his thoughts, Quinn continued, glaring at Ben as he did. “I’m still so fucking pissed at you. I had to hear from Gossip Girl that you were back. Do you know how shitty that is? You didn’t reach out to me once. Not even when you were back in New York. What the fuck?”

It was a shitty thing to do. Ben knew that. “What did you want me to do? Just show up at wherever you’re living and surprise you?” He asked rhetorically. “I came back. And I came back for you, okay?” Ben needed to do this on his own terms. “But seeing you and saying what I want to say and need to say is a lot harder than practicing in the fucking mirror.” He admitted, looking past Quinn. He couldn’t look him in the eyes right now. He wasn’t ready for this. 

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.”

Shit’s fucked. Which was why Ben was spending so muchctime away from O’s place. He knew King was upset with him. He should’ve known what vices he’d get into as soon as he stepped on the dirty concrete for the first time in two years. Now, he was right near Central Park, a place he hadn’t been to in years, looking at The Pond. Ben was extremely neurotic but sometimes watching water calmed him down to a certain extent. His impulsiveness pretty much trumped everything else. 

“Is it acceptable to go skinny dipping in January?” The lake looked a bit gross, but he’d do it. “I’ll give these tourists something that they’ll really remember.” Due to global warming, the body of water was pretty peaceful looking right now with no signs of ice. “I’d suggest going ice skating but I don’t think that’d work.” 

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.