Have You Been Arrested Before, Prior To New Years?

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.” 

quinnxarchibald‌:

Unable to stifle a yawn, Quinn covered his mouth with his hand before making eye contact with a person across from him. “I dunno how I’m going to make it to midnight at this rate.” He admitted with a small laugh. He’d hit a wall half an hour ago and suddenly time felt like it was stretching around him. All he wanted, at the moment, was to go back home and crawl into bed.

Ben wasn’t quite sure if Quinn was talking to him or not. Things were still unresolved with him, even after they spoke at the party. Once again, he would act as if nothing happened between the pair. “If you need to, go home. I’m sure Arlo would understand.” He responded. "Or maybe you just haven’t had enough to drink.”

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.” 

kirbcy‌:

The moment Blur burned down was the moment that Bishop went missing. Well, in spirit. His body was present at every meeting, his mind spewing nothing but business, curbing any condolences with a glance that kept it business. His phone was a log of unanswered messages and emails from friends and family. The only hope they had was to turn it into business and he may answer, but only in regard to business. This holiday was the first time he had been to a social event since Celia’s death, and bitterness was on his tongue just like the scotch. This was an attempt to get some bearing back on his life, despite the fact that he was not ready to face any of it. 

Benjamin found himself loosening his tie a bit before stretching out the kinks in his neck. He did not miss all of these people, but he sort of did miss the partying. Once he spotted Bishop, he walked right on over to him. He had a soft spot for the Kirbey’s for some reason.“Hey, Bishop,” He said nonchalantly. Ben didn’t want to sound like he was sucking up to his brother-in-law. Even if he was. Sue him for wanting to be liked. Wait, no, don’t sue him. “Are you enjoying yourself so far?”

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.

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:

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.

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?”

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. 

buffy-seymour‌:

Bottle of Malibu in hand, Buffy pushed her way through the crowd. With recent events, she was in desperate need of damage control. Which was why she was wearing white to a party. Luckily this early in the night it was easy enough to duck out of the way of swinging beer cups but the difficulty was only going to increase the more she emptied her own bottle. Her eyes settled on a familiar face and Buffy slid up beside them, a wide smile stretched across her lips. “Happy New Year’s Eve!”

Now on his second beer, Ben turned towards Buffy. He was not someone she really kept up with, she wasn’t part of a legacy family on the Upper East Side. “Wow, you seem very excited,” Ben joked, “Was 2018 that rough for you?” He asked. He honestly wasn’t sure he wanted to leave 2018, he hated odd years. At least they had a few more hours left of 2018. 

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.”

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?”