PRETTY BOY

“that’s only somewhat true – i’m not a hundred percent coordinated but not quite awkward either. i agree though, there’s not much to do around here. but when you’ve been living here all your life you kinda just get used to it and make your own fun. i’ll have to take you mud riding or something, if you’re not too scared of getting dirty, that is. i have a sense of adventure but i don’t see getting naked with someone i barely know to be… ‘adventurous’.

"yeah, i’ve noticed a lot of the residents here use ... drugs to help them have fun. you don’t seem like a user, which is surprisingly refreshing. unless i’m wrong, and no judgement if i am. mudding is one of the few things left unchecked on my bucket list, i would be honored to go. i don’t mind getting dirty, especially if its with someone as pretty as you. just know, i’d need a lot of help getting clean. that’s what makes it even more fun. i’m sorry ingrid, but ’m starting to think you’re a fraud.”

“i’m always down for a new adventure. i’ve got long legs so speaking optimistically, i will hopefully not fall and break my leg. keyword: hopefully. anyways, let me know the next time you risk your life in the name of fun. i’d love to join you. you won’t be here for long? what a disappointment. i suppose i’ll have to go back to doing unsafe-for-your-well-being activities on my own. i’ve never gone to my secret spot for that particular use but i’ll keep that in mind. perhaps one day i’ll suddenly have the desire to go skinny dipping.”

"let me say, parkour isn’t for everyone. but, it would be funny to see you giving it a try because, excuse me if i’m wrong, you seem extremely clumsy. i’m doing it all the time, especially now that i’m here because there really isn’t much else to do. are you telling me in this current moment, you’re not down for skinny dipping? c’mon, what happened to your sense of adventure?”

itsangcl-blog

“being a bitch might help me, you never know that. i tried giving this place a shot when i first moved here, and it didn’t impress me much. ever since then, it’s all been downhill. and i’m just letting you know that you’re going to get sick of it soon enough, too.”

“oh yeah? care to enlighten me on how you constantly being a party pooper is going to help your situation? if not, i can list a million reasons on how doing the exact opposite would benefit you. sure, it’ll be less impressive as time continues, but i can do something about it. unlike some people with their ugly ass attitudes.”

#( &. kieran ; chat )

nvdics

“ ah, and here you thought i actually wanted to grace you with my presence? you’re still as gullible as you used to be, beau. maybe that’s something you should try working on, yeah? as much as i’d love to take a look around town, i don’t think i could stand being with your for five seconds, i don’t know i managed to be by your side during our relationship. tell me baby, how many hoes are you fucking this time of year? ”

“i don’t get why you have to live in the past, alessia. it happened, it’s over, so why keep up this charade? before our relationship, we were pretty good friends. let’s just go back to that. you don’t know how you managed? i’ll tell you how -- i was great. don’t lie to yourself now. i bet as much as you, baby.”

#( &. alessia ; chat )

nvdics

“ really, you love this place? gee i never would’ve thought that you of all people could stand such a place like this. i haven’t really taken the time to adventure out of my apartment. how sad is that? but maybe you could give me a tour of where you’ve been so far? ”

“since we’re going to be here a while, might as well fall in love with some things, right? no point in hating everything, you’ll get wrinkles and be exhausted. i could! i’ve been everywhere. and i know the perfect place where we can begin.”

#( &. alessia ; chat )

text to beau.

ingrid: you're kidding, you've never had tacos from jack in the box?

beau: no? i only eat tacos from jacalito. they serve the BEST tacos.

#( &. ingrid ; text )

khclids-blog

*. ° we’re so late nights┊ ft. beau

the mundanity of bryson’s evening had been broken by a flurry of incoming texts, his usual quiet night in becoming splintered by pleas for help and requests for assistance; in a case like this one, bryson would usually find himself declining, spewing reasons and excuses as to why he couldn’t help, why he was unavailable, but tonight, he had already broken self imposed injunctions. so instead of lounging around his apartment, feet propped up on his opposite of posh furniture, garbage reality television playing in the background, he’s on his way to the titled kilt, the irish pub and bar that was probably one of the most frequented places in verona. the food was shit but the beer was cheap and always ice cold, and the music wasn’t nearly as awful as some of the songs that they play on the local radio stations. it was the only place you could really try to get plastered ( even if george, the kilt’s bartender, was notorious for watering down drinks when you were nearing tipsy ) in verona. so it’s absolutely no surprise that beau had managed to find his way there, probably fucking skipping all the way there, his sunny disposition supposedly having drawn the attention of multiple locals. bryson wasn’t threatened – he felt, almost knew, that beau would never be the one to end things between them, and as of late, beau had seemed more than satisfied with bryson had to offer.

when he pulls into a space in the nearly empty lot, bryson has an inkling that beau just wanted his company – wanted to lure him out of his apartment, looking for some excuse to spend time with him. and yeah, if bryson was anyone besides bryson, he would probably find the whole thing endearing, but really, he was just wary. they had discussed time and time again, that they didn’t do shit like this: go out for a drink, go to dinner, hold hands at the cinema – it was purely physical. if beau wanted to pretend like he didn’t know bryson, that was fine. and as he pushes open the door to the bar, he lets the suction of noise drown out his thoughts, burying everything that he was thinking before he passed the threshold of the kilt. mind a blank slate, his green eyes search diligently for a set of broad shoulders and a sickeningly sweet smile. and after combing through people he mostly completely recognized, he finds beau, with his wealth hanging off him much more gracefully than the clothes that draped almost impossibly from the frames of two women pressed against beau at the bar. a silver of irritation makes its way through the small crack in bryson’s otherwise steadfast resolve when he sees a pair of hands pressing against beau’s strong chest, and bile rises in bryson’s throat. his grip on his keys tighten and he weaves through the small crowd with a mixture of greeting and apology, before he finally finds his way to beau. bryson stands a few feet away, and he clears his throat, fidgeting with his worn white tee. ‘ beau, um, it’s time to go. ’ he tells him poignantly, eyes flickering between the two women who were still touching beau.

#( &. bryson ; chat )#when 'if i could fly' plays midway thru writing this

"has one drink ever killed anyone?" those famous words left the lips of beau acardi earlier in the day at the grocery market mere miles from his new place of residency. he didn't know -- and well, didn't care -- where his roommate was, so he took it upon himself to stock up the home with junk food and soda with what little allowance he was given. shopping on a budget proved to be a lot more difficult anticipated, especially when he found he was nine dollars over budget. in that moment, as he stood in line looking as flushed as ever while the cashier continued ringing up his items, he cursed at himself for flipping through the extreme couponing show to find something a little more worth his time. in hindsight, he realized how foolish that was but in his defense, who knew this would happen to him? getting shipped off to live in a small town with people who would widen their eyes at the mere mention of an amount of cash higher than two hundred dollars. "that'll be twenty-nine seventy-five." the cashier's voice announced sweetly, her thick accent hard to miss. beau stared at the five-foot something blonde and in an instant, realized what he had to do to turn this around. he chuckled, shifting positions so his palm could lazily rest on the edge of the conveyor belt. with the older hand, he pulled out the wallet. before pulling out the money, he looked at her and did his award winning smile. "i'm new around here, as you can probably tell. can you show me the nearest bar?" their talk was short, sweet, and beau knew he had this figured out. needless to say, he was able to walk out of there with all his groceries and something to do at nine tonight.

as the night approached and beau found himself in the company of not one, but two females, he wished he just ditched those extra bags at the market. it wasn't that he didn't absolutely love getting attention, it was the fact that these girls, for some odd reason, weren't doing it for him. approximately thirty minutes in, he sent out a text to the one person on his mind. it was a huge shock that bryson even replied to begin with, not to mention when he announced he would be able to help beau out of this awkward situation. awaiting the arrival of his friend, beau decided to not give into the commands of the females, who decided their little party would be more fun if they all took more shots. every few minutes his eyes would dart around the small bar for any signs of his savior. typically, beau would try to avoid places like this but considering this was the only establishment he knew of that sold alcohol, he gave in. the male's eyes widened as the girl suggested they take "this party" back to her place and sadness overtook him. where was bryson? a familiar voice caused beau to turn, his heart strangely speeding up at the sight of his savior. he turned to the females and offered a friendly smile before jumping up to meet bryson. however, his state didn't allow for that. but, before he could land face first on the dirty floors, he hooked an arm around the other's neck. "before they catch up," beau whispered, out of breath in bryson's ear, "we better goooo's." unintentionally, beau used bryson as a makeshift while they advanced to the door. "i'm never comin' back." beau mumbled as they departed, though that most likely wouldn't be the case. "wait." beau immediately stopped in his place before they could reach bryson's car. he freed himself from the boy and raised his arms to the sky, the slight breeze causing the visible region of his lower stomach to cool. "i love this weather, you know?" he said, eyes squinting as his head continued to face the sky. "you's a good mate, bryson."

text to beau.

ingrid: can you win the lottery and invest in a jack in the box here? i would take comfort in the fact that i could get a taco any time i please

beau: they serve tacos at jack in the box? i thought that was a burger joint

#( &. ingrid ; text )

nadinebau-blog

“What’s that one song that goes something like if your love is strong … something something something? I know that’s not really helpful, but there’s reason for it.. kind of.”

"i’m pretty sure that’s some teeny bopper singer, in which case i have no idea.”

#( &. nadine ; chat )

“parkour, huh? that’s an interesting hobby. i usually fall off the trails, always up to explore a new place. mama says i’ve got a death wish but i’d rather be out there than stuck inside somewhere. sorry, i can’t reveal my secrets. i’d like to think i could trust you but this is my special place, can’t risk it. you gotta prove your loyalty to me. save my life or something, you know?”

"it’s intense and fun, i love it.. if you ever want to give it a shot, let me know. it’s truly an adrenaline rush. it’s a great hobby, especially if you have a death wish. i think if my parents knew what i did, they’d be terrified for me. i won’t be here too long, so i don’t know how i’ll prove my loyalty. your secret spot sounds like the perfect spot for skinny dipping, though.”

khclids-blog

‘ the only thing that makes this place bearable, hm ? that’s funny, i’ll remember to jot down a little note about this whole expression of honesty and admittance from you, acardi. and what else would you expect a trail to be besides empty ? i mean, i’m pretty sure that’s part of the trail criteria: barrenness. that way you could walk along it. life in verona must be pretty fucking dull if your favorite part are the empty trails, man. ’

“the only thing, adair. mark my words. have you ever left verona? everywhere i’ve been, the trails are fucking packed and the only thing you can do it walk. its unfortunate. i never thought i’d say this but i did find something better about this small town. here, i can do jumps and tricks to better my parkour.in florida, i would risk facing a lawsuit from accidentally hitting someone. ha, funny. we both know my life is anything but dull.”

#( &. bryson ; chat )

itsangcl-blog

“soon enough, even those will become old news, too. i’m telling you dude, there’s nothing good about this place. good luck finding a real silver lining.”

#( &. kieran ; chat )#when they dont keep the convo goin in the tags ... noted

“damn, you’re sure as hell not going to with that attitude. you’re already livin’ here man, why stick with that negativity? it’s not like being a bitch is gonna help you leave sooner.”

“i absolutely love the trails. i get lost when i’m walking through. not literally… more like lost in thought. though, there was this one time i was stuck out there for hours because i ended up taking a wrong turn. but it wasn’t a bad thing cause because i ended up finding this nice little pond. the location is a little secret of mine.”

“the trails are a great place for me to practice my parkour. i’m there almost all the time, its strange we don’t run into one another. a pond? just saying, i can keep a secret, too.”