"Like Who Are They? When Did They Get Here?" Briggs Joked Lightly, He Wasn't Really Bothered By Their

James Marsters as Spike Buffy the Vampire Slayer (1997–2003) | 5.06 — "Family"

Henry Golding as Dry Eye THE GENTLEMEN (2020)

"Oh? That sounds like a you problem, babes. None of my business, y'know." Briggs retorted, his face brightening at the sight of her, despite their usual banter. Ronnie was family, even if they were just constantly butting heads all over the place. "What do you know about musicians? If you knew anything you'd know it's not redbull, it's just a lot of coke. The fun type, not the drink, that keeps us going." He smirked back at her. "No free drink for you, by the way. Since you decided to be a hater."

She didn't clap, the last thing the club needed was Briggs getting a bigger head than he already had. "Oh if it were me, I'd fucking hate you." she grinned before taking a sip of her own beer. "But then again, I always hate you." she tossed a shrug his way. "Seriously, just drink 5 redbulls like any other musician worth their salt, don't be a pussy." She wasn't normally this abrasive, but there was just something she loved about annoying the ever-loving-shit out of Briggs. It brought her an immense amount of joy. Briggs being annoyed with her meant all was right with the world.

HENRY GOLDING W Magazine (2019)

"Wow. Hater. And that's a lot coming from me." Briggs joked lightly. He was always in a better mood after a performance, doing what he loved to do was what kept him going. "Uber's are for people that don't have to move all their instruments and equipment around, obviously. We have a van to drive." He gestured to the stage where his bandmates had began to pack everything up and then turned around to the bartender. "Can I get a water and I'll cover her drink, too please."

How she’d gotten wrapped up in this, she would never know. What Taylor did know, was that with each passing moment she was regretting it. Signaling for another round, she side eyed the man. “Dude. I will hate on you if you order a coffee instead of a beer at a bar at this damn hour.” She rolled her eyes. “You…have you ever heard of an Uber?”

closed for @alibeksozeri

location: fire & ice gala

"Oh. Watch out. I'm pretty sure that waiter has been drinking the champagne he's been serving all night and has ruined like three different dresses already." Briggs joked lightly, though it wasn't a lie, he was getting maybe too close for comfort. He offered her one of the champagne flutes in his hand. "I'll get another later, I'm choosing to be nice for once tonight."

"Four. Or so everyone says. I also don't eat my green veggies, if you're curious." Briggs retorted with a wide, shit-eating grin. It was a lie, he was capable of eating all vegetables, but for the purposes of entertaining her and this conversation, he was going to act like he didn't. One thing about him, he loved to annoy people. "Just how old do you really think I am? I was joking, I am not four. I'm closer to mid-age than I am to twenty. I just have really great genes." His grin only grew at her answer. "Got other plans after the set, obviously. Something more private, but still very loud." He turned his head to gesture to the bartender to come over and then looked back at the stranger. "I'll see what I can do. What should I order for you?"

     "Jesus," Cherry muttered then tipped back a sip of her negroni. "How old are you?" Cerulean eyes cut over to the musician clocking that he looked young and virile enough to her. Even though she'd enjoyed his music and sat through most of his set (the bartender had mentioned he'd been a song deep when she'd sat down) the raven haired woman sat impassive. To the untrained eye she'd appear bored. "What're you going to do when you're actually a middle aged man? Or worse, over the hill?" A slight smile turned up a corner of her mouth. "Only perform for the early bird crowd?" Slight acknowledgment came in her giving him partial attention, a barely measured turn of her head in his direction. "Be bold. Order the coffee. The rebel of the hour."

closed for @becflores

location: fire & ice gala

"Okay, but...do you know any of these people?" Briggs asked out loud to no one in particular, but also to anyone that was around him and willing to talk about nonsense. "I've lived here almost my entire life and I don't know where they came from. No wonder they hate us. I'd rather stick to my leather jacket and my loud bar with people I know, you know?"

Madness. That was the only way to describe how it felt to be on stage and see everyone rushing around the large venue where the party was taking place. Briggs had froze in place upon the incredibly scary announcement, then had found a way to come down the stage. Not a lot of things were traumatic to Briggs but everything that involved the Melody Davis' case never failed to send him spiraling a bit, add all the substances in his body and the buzz that had been generated by his earlier interaction with Dean and that almost made him feel on edge. As he found himself right in front of the very same man, Briggs finally snapped out of it. "I--fuck, I think I do, I don't know." His eyes focused on Dean's as he placed his hands on the other's shoulders, trying to center himself. "Okay. Let's go. But you need to breathe, I can't carry you anywhere, you have to properly function, Dean." He began pulling him backstage, clearly on a mission.

"Mmh, takes a lot more than a pretty voice to get my underwear off. Nice try, though -- I'm sure I can borrow a pair from one of your little groupies though?" Dean grinned smugly, swaying slightly as his balance began to betray him. "Dunno. Considering I had a few drinks to get through it..." He mused, eyes flickering towards the bartender momentarily. "A few more wouldn't hurt, though. Might make the rest of your sets more bearable. What do you think?"

TIME SKIP

He was far too drunk for this -- well, even if he wasn't drunk, this would have sent him over the edge. He felt like vomiting, his skin on fire with abject panic that far superseded any anxiety that normally coursed through his veins like a fright train. So much so that he didn't have time to hold himself back as he spotted Briggs in the crowd, only having parted momentarily before everything went down. "Please tell me you know a fucking way out of here," Dean practically hissed, instinctively grabbing onto the sleeve of Brigg's shirt as he practically barreled into him. "I've got no cell service down here -- do you? Can you -- didn't you and your Nickelback cover band have to load in from somewhere? Oh god, I think we're running out of air down here..."

CLOSED FOR @deanhcrt

LOCATION: sierra shopping mall

A smug grin appeared on Briggs' face when he saw the familiar figure of one Dean Hart appear just a few feet away from him. Mind you, he really shouldn't recognize him that easily, after all, Briggs was supposed to at least dislike him. And boy, did he act like it. Luckily for him, Dean didn't hold back either which probably it even harder for Briggs not to enjoy the banter between them whenever they ran into each other. "So what's your deal here? Don't you pay someone to do all your shopping for you, Mr. Gates?" He joked lightly as he approached the other male.