Finnsmythe‌:

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.”

taterodriguez‌:

“Parties in the Upper East Side are the only good thing about Manhattan,” Tate had grown to detest Manhattan and everything it had stood for.  The drama and politics of it all had grown to be too much and sometimes they wish they had been able to abandon it all and leave the way Monty and Ben had done, but they had unfortunately set roots here.  “Honestly, don’t let them get to you.  They feed off of drama so just don’t give it to them.”  Tate gave a shrug of their shoulders before sipping their vodka.  “Don’t be a stranger, I’ve heard the food is pretty good.”  Tate boasted playfully.  “Only since you haven’t had the chance to taste my food.”

“King?”  Tate hadn’t been able to keep track of people these days especially if they hadn’t been around since their days of Nightingale Prep.  “Why does that name sound familiar? – Anyway, congratulations.  I’ll drink to that,” Tate chuckled before finishing their vodka.  “Please, I’ll never say no to that.”

"Have you been to SantaCon? That comes in a close second,” He had never been but he heard about it. People dressed in Christmas gear while drinking. Now that sounded like a good time. Tate was giving some good advice, advice that Ben should probably listen to. However, most of the time, information went in one ear and out the other for him. “It’s hard not to when I guess I’m this drama filled apparently,” He confessed to them. “I’m sure it is,” Was it as good as the food he had abroad, though? That was the real test. “I’m looking forward to it.”

“King Kirbey, she’s the hot blonde at this party,” He pointed out, shocked they didn’t know exactly who she was. “And she’s Bishop’s sister,” He added, seeing if it would ring any bells. “Thanks, I’ll drink to that too,” He decided. “How about we skip the chaser and go right for some shots?” Ben suggested. 

kirbcy‌:

Bishop was supposed to be nice, but the feeling of even being a little tongue in cheek had long since left his demeanor. Something about Ben, standing there, pretending to even give a little of a shit fundamentally irritated the shit out of him. “Then why are you talking to me? Because here’s the way I see it, Vanderbilt. You’re attempting to do whatever this is in attempt to smooth over the fact that you married my sister without so much as a thought to her brother who may want to fucking attend. Further, I doubt you even pushed her to talk to me, or say anything, or come the fuck home. No. You don’t get to slither into my life pretending to be a friend when you’d rather remind everyone how much you’d rather be in Europe or some bullshit. Go back then. Or at least save me the act.”

“I’m not talking to you out of guilt, trust me,” Honestly, he didn’t feel bad about not pushing King to come home. Not when he didn’t want to come home in the first place. Was New York even considered home anymore? “If it makes you feel better, no one is invited,” It was a spur of the moment thing. Ben wouldn’t have wanted a wedding with family members in attendance anyway, he liked the spontaneity. “I get it, you’re pissed at her, but she really does love you,” He reminded Bishop, “I’m talking to you because you look like you could use some company, Bishop. This party’s supposed to be fun,” This was ironic considering Ben was usually the one who was being miserable. “Oh we’ll be going back, I just have to take care of a few things first. It’s nice over there since we don’t have people at our throats all the time.” If Bishop wanted to push him away, he was going to go along with it. At least he could tell King he tried.

monty-santos‌:

“Well…” Monty said as he tried to think, trying to think of suggestions other than his usual of volunteering.  “Typically what I do is go to the library and get a couple of books, which tends to work for me. Or we could wander around and see what sort of things we can find, I used to do that all the time when I had days off in France.”

Of course, Monty would suggest books. Unfortunately, Ben hadn’t leisurely read in years. He never really was a book fanatic, to begin with. Mainly because he associated books with school. And doing schoolwork was not fun, in his opinion. “How many books do they let you take out at a time?” He inquired, mainly because he pictured Monty with a dozen books at a time. Ben’s ears perked up when he mentioned France. “As long as we avoid Times Square, I would be up for an adventure,” It would be good to get his mind off of everything. “When do you think we’ll be rid of all these tourists? Don’t they have jobs?”

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. 

Ben was thankful for BYOB. He finally got to bring himself some microbrew. None of these people ever experienced how amazing beer was like he had. He donned a white suit. To the outside world, he felt as if most of them knew him as little pure Benjamin Vanderbilt. Or at least they did. He used his bottle opener to open his beer up and took the cap into his free hand. “By the end of the night, I think that I’m going to need to carry around a garbage bag for all of these,” He said as he showed his bottle cap to the other person. “Time is also just a social construct, but that’s another lecture for another day. It’s probably hard for Americans to grasp that.”

@oatanas

It wasn’t fun living with two people who seemed pretty mad at him. He knew why King was mad at him. But O too? He wasn’t used to living with two pissed off women. If she was here, Chessie would’ve spoken to him. Or at least he assumed she would. He was tired of all of the awkwardness. He just wanted to break the silence with O. There was only so much quietness that he could take before he felt like he was going to explode. He was desperate for interaction. “You know, one of these days, I could make gyros for all of us. Have you ever had one?” It was a Greek dish that had made it’s way to the states, but he didn’t know her eating habits. “As a thank you for letting me stay here.” He added. He was staying here on free room and board. Who knew how long that was going to last?

monty-santos‌:

“That sounds beautiful, I’ll have to make sure to go there sometime,” Monty smiled, even though he had no idea how he would ever be able to afford it.  Though it still was on his list.  “See I don’t know if the idea of being a third wheel is super appealing, but thanks for the kinda offer,” he chuckled, “plus I didn’t really have the money to just go off and travel.  The volunteer work I did gave a little bit of a stipend, but it was mostly just for clothes and food and basic living expenses.”

“I’m really surprised you haven’t been. I feel like it’s on everyone’s bucket list,” Ben said with a shrug, “Are you sure? We’re a lot of fun. One minute we’re in Portugal and the next, we’re in Spain,” Ben exclaimed. He liked traveling and not being tied down to one city. “They should give you a nice vacation for helping out. What sort of volunteer work is it anyway?”