Kirbcy‌:

taterodriguez‌:

Tate sipped at their vodka soda, crossing their legs as they allowed their self to get comfortable in their current location, knowing full well it would take a lot to pry Tate from the kitchen.  It was quiet, it was away from the typical crowd that swarmed Upper East Side parties, and there was free alcohol.  As Ben Vanderbilt came into their view, it had been like seeing a ghost.  It took a lot out of Tate to offer pleasantries but they had been unsure if Ben had been fully aware of Tate’s knowledge on his situation with Quinn.

“Honestly, never thought I’d see your face again after you left.”  Tate tried to remain civil, because it was clear he didn’t have bad intentions.  “You’re staying here with O?  Why?  I didn’t know you guys were that close,” Tate gave a raise of their brow.  O hadn’t mentioned that Ben Vanderbilt had been staying in their home.  “Honestly,” Tate chuckled before admitting.  “Hiding.  I came for the free booze and to see O because I feel like I haven’t seen her in ages.”  Tate sipped their vodka soda again.  “I mean, it’s a free world.  I’m not one to stop you.”

He was a runner. If something wasn’t going his way, he’d leave. If he was on the verge of getting in major trouble, he’d board the next flight to Europe. It just who he was. “Yeah, well, I had to come. Not because I wanted to,” He wanted to make sure that was clear, “But because I had to. I guess I just have some unfinished business. How about you? What have you been up to?” He asked in an effort to make small talk. 

Ben then nodded at them, “You’re not wrong, we really aren’t close. My wife’s pretty close to her so she’s letting us stay here for a bit. This place is pretty nice compared to where I’ve been living these past few years,” He admitted. “O’s not in here if that narrows down your rooms to find her in,” There was a bit of joking in his voice. “This is the part where you’re supposed to tell me, of course, you wouldn’t mind. But, uh, I get it.”

chessieabernathy‌:

“I’ll save it for tomorrow morning during the hangover breakfast,” She held up her hands to show she meant no harm. “Not trying to have a bad time? You could’a fooled me, B. All you’ve done since got here is mop.” She rolled her eyes at him, finishing off her champagne before abandoning it on the end table. “Now you’re speaking my language,” Chessie perked up at the mention of gin and tonic, her go to drink. She didn’t wait for him to follow along, instead – Chessie began her way to the bar. “C’mon, the bartender asked for my number, so I think I can charm him into pouring heavy.”

"As long as I still can get my morning smoke in, do whatever you want,” He insisted. “It is your place after all. If I were you, I’d be walking around here pantsless always,” He chuckled, “Hey, I have not just moped around here. I’ve done more than that. I’ve looked out the window a few times,” He really should get out more. He just didn’t want to. 

Alcohol tasted pretty damn bad to him. Beer was an acquired taste but gin was not his favorite liquor out there. “Fine,” He agreed as he followed her, “Wait, did you give it to him? If he asks for my phone number, I’m gonna tell him I don’t have a phone.”

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?”

what's it like being back in the city?

“It’s starting to feel like I never left. Shit goes down around here that wouldn’t happen anywhere else.” Sometimes he felt like New York was suffocating. “And it wasn’t this cold in some areas of Europe.”

monty-santos‌:

“Well to start, I like to think that I make a lot less stupid decisions,” Monty chuckled before sighing a little, “but I actually got arrested around this time last year because I was drunk and high and a whole lot of other things that I really don’t want to talk about, but you’re free to read on Gossip Girl if you want because she posted all about it.  But this at least keeps it from happening again,” he explained, figuring that talking about that party once was enough per day and Bishop had already claimed that topic.  “Yeah, I’m glad that she did it.  She’s a really good person, and she moved here pretty recently so I think she’s still trying to find her place around here.”

He couldn’t relate at all. All he did was make stupid decisions. “Shit,” He wanted to say he knew how Monty felt but he didn’t. Ben was able to have Quinn take the fall for him. “That sucks. I believe you, I won’t read up on it. Gossip Girl isn’t on my radar unless she’s talking about me.” It was true, he only was interested if he saw himself on the blog. He would’ve warned this woman to stay away from here if he saw her first. The Upper East Side eats people up and spits them out. “I’m glad to hear that. It’s nice to see someone who wants to help out around here.” 

chessieabernathy‌:

Chessie couldn’t stop herself from staring out the window – Even though the sun had gone down, the city lights made it easy enough to see how much snow was beginning to pile onto the terrace. It made her nervous, filling her with dread as she thought of how she’d have to trek through it tomorrow morning. But rather than worry about what’s to come tomorrow, she saw it sit to enjoy herself tonight. “You look like you need a drink,” She comments easily to the person next to her, smirk on her face. “What’s a party without champagne?”

He forgot how commercialized Christmas was in America. People would die to spend Christmas in the City and yet he’d pretty much rather be anywhere but here. It sucked having a guilty conscience. He preferred warmer climates now, one that didn’t require him to wear so much clothing. How did she know? He did need a drink, especially to get through this party. “A good one,” He joked. “I can’t be the only one that thinks champagne tastes pretty awful. Do you have any craft beer?”

finnsmythe‌:

“I don’t doubt that. You seem pretty scrappy to me,” he grinned a little. At the suggestion of a shotgun competition, Finn laughed. “Oh my god, yes! I used to do that all the time with the guys! And I did that in college before I dropped out. You’re on. If this fucking blizzard wasn’t happening, and we’d be able to get a case of beer, we’d definitely do that!” Finn was competitive as hell, and he would do all he could to win that challenge. “Yeah, we’re a thing,” he nodded. “I’ll ask O about it. See if she’d be down.”

He wasn’t scrappy. Only he was allowed to call himself that. Or King. That was about it. “I gotta compensate for the height somehow,” He wasn’t ignorant, he knew he was pretty small. “There should always be a case of beer around or a keg. I really need to show Chessie and O how Europeans party,” He thought he was better than everyone because he spent so much time abroad. It was pretty pathetic. “Maybe we could do a bar crawl.” He considered that pretty romantic. See, romance isn’t dead. 

chessieabernathy‌:

His words pulled a something between a scoff and a laugh from her, something she wasn’t sure would happen in his presence. “Believe me,” she begins, giving him a pointed look, “I’ve caught on.” The moment passed quickly, smile fading moments after it came to life, her attention turning to the lake in front of them once more. There was a new sort of tension between them, a conversation they’re attempting to tiptoe around but can’t avoid. Casually bringing up the fact that they’d gotten high together (Along side Arlo), all three of them snorting laced blow, only to have her be the one to fall overboard wasn’t a welcomed topic. Both knew better than to say something along those lines, settling with a conversation about their living arrangements. She could handle that, easy. “It’s strange not being there,” she found herself admit, taking another puff of her cigarette. She’d become accustomed to their little foursome, their shared home – The circumstance to have all of that change wasn’t ideal. I’m glad you’re okay. The sentiment was there, but the words were beginning to feel meaningless, purely due to the amount of times they’d been repeated to her. “I’m just happy to be out of the hospital.” She settled with after a moment of silence, trying to keep things light, avoiding the topic at hand. 

“You weren’t supposed to agree so quickly,” He chuckled, “But I’ll forgive you.” It was very hard for Ben to be occupied, which caused his brain to want to do things that he shouldn’t be doing. “I’m in the doghouse over there. I’ve never seen King so pissed. Don’t get me wrong, it’s hot but it’s not ideal either.” He acknowledged. It wasn’t like that was out of the ordinary, Ben found everything about King attractive. “Let me tell you, I’m out there smoking alone now. I look like a total weirdo.” He gave her a nod, understanding why she would be happy. He was glad to see that she was okay. Having a repeat of a certain event would have definitely triggered something within him. But she was here. She was okay. “Have you spoken to O since everything went down?” He was wondering if O was as mad at her as King as at him. 

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