quinnxarchibald:
Quinn looked over at Ben for a moment before shaking his head. “Yeah, you make a very good point. Most people here kind of suck don’t they?” He sighed, thinking of how much time he’d spent hating how fake people were. Despite hating the facade, he couldn’t imagine leaving the way Ben or Monty had. “I dunno about screens though, it’s not the same as face to face.”
He could go on and pretend as if everything was normal. Nothing was normal between them. Nothing was normal for Ben right now anyways. Maybe this would be a good segway into what had happened and the apology that he owed Quinn. But that meant actually talking about things and Ben was not a fan of that action. “I’m assuming you heard what happened.” He blurted. Shit. “I mean what happened at the party. Not with me, particularly,” It wasn’t a big deal what had happened to him or anything. Possession was a big deal but he wanted to minimize that as much as possible around Quinn. Because Quinn seemed to have been through so much because of him already. He should’ve just apologized to Quinn. Instead, he continued to talk about phones. “I honestly think screens are taking over everyone’s lives. Have you ever seen those videos of New York back in the 80′s? No one was on their phone.”
monty-santos:
“I never made it down to Greece, but I’ve heard that it’s amazing,” Monty nodded with a smile, “But it’s really not surprising if you look at how big all of Europe was, not to mention we probably were in very different places if we did happen to be around the same area,” he pointed out with a shrug, “But that’s good, King’s pretty great. Did you two travel together after that?”
“It’s one of my favorite places in the world. The ocean’s so damn blue there, especially compared to the crappy Hudson. But you can’t flush toilet paper cause their piping system is too old. That was something that was hard to remember when I was drunk,” Ben disclosed to the other man. “You could’ve been the third wheel if you wanted,” He proposed, “Pretty much, yeah. She somehow was able to put up with me for that long.” He let a slight chuckle out but it was true. Ben was honestly a mess when he ran into her.
chessieabernathy:
Somewhere past the sunrise, Chessie hadn’t woken with feeling a common feeling of being both groggy and mildly hungover. The combination always warranted a warm cup of coffee to ease her into the day – Even with plenty of party guests sleeping all over her home thanks to the blizzard, she didn’t miss a beat. Having changed in a short robe, pulled close, she brewed a pot, leaning against the kitchen counter as she scanned the room. “Morning, sunshine,” she comments quietly, giving the new addition an arched brow. “Help yourself.” Chessie offers, nodding to the pot next to her.
Ben started feeling more comfortable around the apartment that he was intruding in. It had been a few weeks and he finally was deciding he could take most things without asking. The one problem was that Ben wasn’t a morning person. He’d much rather sleep in than have to get up. But for some reason, he was up. It took him at least an hour to wake up, another thirty minutes to be open to conversation, it was a whole process. Add in the fact that he was hungover and his face fucking hurt. Not to mention that getting to sleep was a whole process. Maybe it was all of the guilt that he had to live with. It had to be cold and he had to sleep in just his boxers. However, he always made sure he was decent when he went outside of the room that he and King shared. After he rubbed his eyes, adjusting to some light, he trekked to the kitchen. He looked at Chessie, giving her a hand to at least acknowledge her. “Stop being so loud,” He told her in a whisper. “It’s hurting my head.” Since when did he get hangovers? It was this American shit. He took some coffee before he looked back at her, “Do you think we can get out to the terrace for a quick smoke?” He asked, not knowing the extent of the snow from the blizzard.
You ever get in a Mood where you just wanna poof off to another country, erase your history, re-write your identity, and become a mysterious figure who’s never been photographed but occasionally appears in paintings done by unknown artists
Wren: It's my Christmas card. I made it online.
Ben: Christmas is celebrated so differently in Europe.
Ben: we should try to give it a shot over here.
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.
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.”
arlovasquez:
“I mean I’m sure someone could smell it on me, but because it’s Europe, no one really cared,” he said with a smirk. “I think he did have a beard later on in life. Well, there’s a self portrait oh him with a long white beard and I assume that’s what he actually looked like at the time? But yeah, there’s a theory that the Mona Lisa is actually just da Vinci in a dress. Maybe that’s why it’s so famous? Cause I honestly don’t know either.”
“Yeah, they also smoke like chimneys over there. No one can probably smell anything.” Being European was its own culture for sure, especially being French. “I always think of that movie with the Looney Tunes because of that painting. At least I think that was a movie, I’m pretty sure I was a little out of it the first time I watched it.” He figured Arlo would know what he was insinuating. “Did they even have mirrors back then? How was he able to know what he looked like?”
@kingkirbey
Being here just made the knot in his stomach worse than it had been at overseas. He’d much rather be in Greece right now, having a Piraiki than stupid liquor. He was supposed to be tying up lose ends and potentially making amends with Quinn. That shit didn’t work. Now he just felt like a spineless asshole. And when shit hit the fan, he just needed King. Ben spit onto his shirt, trying to get the blood out once he found her for the dramatic effect. “That didn’t go well,” He admitted as he looked at his wife, “I just got pummeled by Quinn. I didn’t even know he was capable of doing that,” Ben sighed as he looked past her, “Can you please tell me again why this was a good idea?” His question was geniune, the purpose of their arrival blurred over the fact that his friendship with Quinn seemed broken beyond repair.
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