— DEARLY DEPARTED.

"Every morning leaves me with a mouthful of sorrow. I tell myself that’s because missing you is like an ache but that’s not all true: I miss you, I do, but more than that I miss myself when I was with you, I miss the girl lost in the wildflowers with her eyes open. Eventually the mornings fade into afternoons spent on the couch sifting through maps and ticket stubs and photos littered across the coffee table, a shrine to all the places we’ve been and never will again, but the weight on my tongue never lifts." | 29 YEARS OLD. FREMONT NATIVE. BARTENDER AT THE ANCHOR INN AND SOMETIMES TOUR GUIDE.

[andimcrgan]

— REMINGTON DUTTON.

It wasn’t entirely the lack of power that bothered Remington. Yes, sure it was an inconvenience but he much preferred the privacy that Fremont provided. The community close even if it was sometimes like living in the stone age. This was nothing a bottle of booze couldn’t fix. Which honestly, was what brought him here. “Neither but please tell me I can buy like a bottle off of you all. I just drained all that was left of my last bottle of Jack - I am not sure how I may get past the few days if I don’t have some Whiskey.” Okay yes the man was being a little overdramatic but Whiskey was like water to him. Probably not something he would boast about but still, it hadn’t let him down yet and in that moment it was all he cared about. “I’m not past the point of begging.”

—

Ah. A man after her own heart. The edge of Andi’s mouth twitched toward a fuller smile but she held back at the last second. “Well,” she trailed off to a sigh, eyes roaming over the otherwise empty bar. “Shipments are always a little erratic this far from port, especially after a storm, so I guess that depends.” For a moment she let him sweat it out and casually went through the motions of pouring herself a coffee. The steaming mug hit the bar top in front of him, short about an inch of drink, before she cocked a lopsided grin. “If I sell you a whole bottle are you gonna top me off? Sharing is caring, and technically I’m not on the clock for—-“ she darted a glance to somewhere behind his head—- “another twenty minutes.” The bottle was already his, but she couldn’t help herself. Andi wanted to see if he’d bite. “Do we have a deal?”

[andimcrgan]

— DOMINIC MILLER.

︽

“This is one of your worst nights?” he asks. Considering there’s free alcohol, everyone dressed to impress and obviously, some interesting activities happening, he has a hard time believing that this could be one of the worst nights. Dom hasn’t been having the fun he probably would’ve a few years ago. He’d never been rich but he’d been more outgoing, more social and certainly, the life of the party as he mingled. Maybe that’s what you got when you paired two havoc wrecked souls and you put them at a party. Dom gives her a weak smile and a shrug. “Pretty sure free drinks never qualifies as a bad night for most people. – I think we’ll make it though.” As she finishes her glass, Dom instinctively sips on his whiskey, enjoying the flavor as it trickles down his throat. “I mean, I’m not having the worst nights, just isn’t my scene,” he decides on. “But it’s for charity, right?”

—

“Maybe not one of my worst,” Andi admitted with a soft laugh. “It’s just—- busy.” Her eyes briefly left his face to dart around the room. “And rich.” She didn’t really need to say much else; that pretty much described her personal nightmare. “I don’t do crowds and I can’t compete with these bank accounts. I mean, have you seen some of those bids?” Even teamed up with Jasmine she couldn’t afford the lowest running prize. “The free drinks are the only thing that’s kept me from taking myself home.” There, she only had a few swigs of whiskey left to hold her hand. At least at the auction she had limitless alcohol, and now Dom, to make trussing herself up in a ridiculous dress feel a little bit worth the headache. “I don’t know,” she chuckled next, pausing to tuck a fallen lock of hair behind her ear. “Sometimes I think I’ve forgotten how to be a real person anymore. Or maybe like I don’t deserve to be when—- when he can’t.” Andi’s brows furrowed at the thought. “You ever feel that way? Like you’re not meant to be out havin’ fun?”

[andimcrgan]

DAY EIGHT: SATURDAY, JANUARY 30TH, 2021 — open to anyone in fremont, at the anchor inn.

( @elisabethstarters​ )

Every time the power went out around Fremont Andi swore she’d finally fix her generator, and every time it came back on she conveniently forgot to allocate the funds. If not for work she probably would’ve gotten hypothermia by now.

Yawning, she moved from the cots upstairs to the main bar - ambling down just in time to catch someone come in from the cold. 

“Morning.” Even her teeth felt tired when she smiled. “I can get you coffee or cocoa, and there’s some bottled water and snacks—-” gesturing with her chin to a folding table in the back, Andi tied an apron off around her waist to start another shift—- “but if you’re lookin’ for a hot meal it might be awhile.” Without a kitchen they were at the mercy of the community, and the Tremblay’s wouldn’t be through with free soup and sandwiches for at least another hour. 

[andimcrgan]

FRIDAY, JANUARY 22ND, 2021 —  at the rockwater resort with @marley-callahan.

If she didn’t already feel the weight of one hundred judgements upon her shoulders before Andi certainly did now. Once upon a time she had a mid-dinner dance party a night. These days the closest she got was an awkward shuffle to the bathroom while Pandora blared from her phone. She tuned out of her surroundings, though, and focused solely on the safety net of Marley’s hands and the music’s beat. Instinct trumped inhibition. Her knees bent and her hips began to sway. For that one, careless moment all the burdens upon her shoulders dissolved to the recesses of her brain, affording her the chance to finally breathe. 

Figuratively, at least. By the time the song tapered into the next her chest labored for precious air. “I can’t believe I just did that.” Marley wouldn’t understand the why, nor comprehend the rarity of the giddy laugh that bubbled out of Andi next. It didn’t matter. Fingers clasped tight, she beamed over, then gave a tug toward the bar. “C’mon. I need that drink before I start realizing I should be embarrassed right about now.”

[andimcrgan]

— LUCY BAKER.

Lucy nodded her head, she wasn’t sure why she wanted to taste different kinds of alcohol tonight. Maybe it was because it was an event and at this point Lucy had really said fuck it, have a good time. She needed this, and asking the nearest person what kind of alcohol they usually drank, it was nice to always have options. “That is the plus side of things tonight, that the alcohol is free during this event.” Lucy said smiling, and then shook her head “Well, I usually do Whiskey but Whiskey and I aren’t so good of a match. One sip of that and I’m a goner. Wine and beer are my light options.” Lucy shrugged her shoulders and listened to the music in the background and then continued with “Hmm, smoky and neat sounds interesting.”

—

The suggestion of whiskey or scotch poised on the tip of her tongue but—- “You said you like wine?” Dormant gears in her brain began to turn, sluggish and rusty after years of no use. At the Anchor Inn, she’d be hard pressed to find a customer with a discerning palate, but these days Andi read almost too much for her own good. Mass market novels from a thrift store bin, dusty classics from library sales, how to manuals leftover from Seth—- She chewed at the corner of her lip another moment, then leaned in to bother the bartender for a glass of Kanonkop Pinotage. “Here, try this.” Anxious anticipation coiled in her gut. “It has notes of red plum and dark berries—-“ I think—- “but also vanilla and chocolate and spice.” According to a wine guide she once found in a soggy box at work, that is. “Smoky, but maybe still a little familiar.”

[andimcrgan]

— JASMINE MOUSAVI.

..

Walking arm in arm with Andi, Jasmine couldn’t help but giggle, tucking her head in towards her friend a little. “Oh what choices we have dearest, whatever shall we spend our abundant fortunes on?” Although Jasmine wasn’t doing badly with her business and her savings, she was not the girl to splurge on something when she could get it for cheaper. “I mean, look at this, a membership to galaxy fitness is like two hundred max, someone has bid six fifty. I know it’s for charity but that seems excessive.” Looking over to the bid Andi was looking at, her eyes widened and shook her head. “That’s more than the rent for the bakery for like multiple years, that’s insane.” Taking a sip of her sparkling water from her glass, Jasmine shook her head. “I put a bid on the whale watching tour earlier, I bid one fifty and someone has instantly upped it to two thousand, so that’s me out, I’d rather get something new for the bakery with that money, no offence to the charity and all.” Tilting her head towards her shoulder, Jasmine pursed her lips. “What’s cheap that we can do together? We can pool and get something together?”

—

If Andi had a million dollars she’d gladly give every last cent to the Coast Guard, but lately she could barely afford her mortgage payments. Only occasional divine intervention and a stubborn refusal to sell the home that’d once belonged to her and Seth kept her ass off the street. She couldn’t compete with the current bids - not even close - but her heart was in the right place. After the hours - days, weeks, and months - search and rescue looked for Seth she’d do just about anything to repay them. Even despite the fact that, ultimately, they came back empty-handed every single time. She assumed there was a vast difference between her own motives and everyone else’s though. “What pisses me off is that most of the money being thrown out right now probably had little to do with the cause itself. People just want to fluff up their own self important names.” Eyes rolled skyward before she got back to task. “What about a lunch or something? The Green Café bid isn’t too high yet.”

[quotemadness]

I am a woman built upon the wreckage of myself.

Chris Cleave (via quotemadness)

[andimcrgan]

FRIDAY, JANUARY 22ND, 2021 —   at the rockwater resort with @jasmine-mousavi.

"What do you think, dah-ling?” Adopting her poshest accent, Andi strolled past the little plaques with Jasmine, arm in arm. “Do I try my luck at a wine tasting, a round of Botox, or go big and drop fifty g’s for a trip to Cancun?” A thread of tipsy laughter escaped her at that point. She barely had fifty dollars to spare, let alone fifty grand, and they both damn well knew it. Still, now that she’d had several drinks to take the edge off, it was almost fun to browse the selection up for grabs and play pretend. Almost. Reality sank in when she bent closer to read the latest bids. “Jesus Christ. Who the hell has—-“ No. She wouldn’t even wonder who had that much money to throw around because, chances were, the answer was almost everyone in the room. “Do you have your eye on anything? ‘Cause at this point I’m pretty sure I’m going home empty handed.”

[andimcrgan]

FRIDAY, JANUARY 22ND, 2021 —  at the rockwater resort with @dommiller.

“Why do I only seem to run into you when I’m having the worst of nights?” A soft, near silent laugh filtered through her lips while Andi sidled in next to Dom at the bar. To call this - or any other run in - the worst of nights was a bit of an overstatement, though. The auction was... fine. Mingling in such a wealthy crowd just wasn’t her thing. Then again, what was these days? Andi went through the motions at work half asleep, threw back a beer or two after close, and usually spent the rest of her time holed up in solitude at home. She’d been a shell of her former self for so long now she hardly remembered the girl who’d come before. Once upon a time she’d admitted that to Dom in a weaker moment of common bonds and drunken honesty, but she’d be hard pressed to ever confess it again. Lingering in a tiny smile that barely reached her eyes she tipped back the remnants in her glass, then twisted in his direction. “Are you at least havin’ a good time?”

[andimcrgan]

FRIDAY, JANUARY 22ND, 2021 — at the rockwater resort with @hannahgrvce.

“——- oh thank god.” Andi slugged back the champagne in her hand, wishing for all the world she’d asked for something with tequila instead, and then unceremoniously plopped the empty flute onto a passing tray. Bodies were jostled and a few drinks sloshed as she carved a path through the mingling crowd in a beeline for Hannah’s side. “I’m so glad you’re here.” A deeply relieved sigh breezed through her lips in an offering of proof, too. “Can I ask you something?” Bent forward, almost sheepishly, she muttered into her ear, “Do I look alright?” The faintest wash of crimson swept her cheeks. “You know me, Han. I don’t ever dress like this and...” and she felt like people were staring. The insecurity was likely all in her head, but Andi terrorized the flesh of her lip, anyway. “You can tell me the truth. I brought my interview pants and some silky—- blouse thing in the car just in case I should change.”

[andimcrgan]

— MARLOW BENNETT.

open event starter / @elisabethstarters​

“i have been impatiently waiting all week to go ice skating.” marlow mused, the brunette practically bouncing up and down. they loved ice skating, and despite being all long gangly limbs, they were actually pretty good at it. much better at it than skateboarding, which was apparently a whole different ball game. “you’re going to come with me, right?” the bouncing was paused so that marlow could flash puppy-dog eyes at the other. “they have everything you need, coats and stuff. you have no excuse to say no.” another begging smile. “pretty please?”

—

The one upside to not caring about her dress was that, when propositioned so enthusiastically, Andi really didn’t have much reason to say no. If she tripped and fell flat on her ass, ruining her gown in the process, the most she’d have to deal with was a bruised tailbone. “Alright, alright.” Laughter puffed from her lips in little white clouds while she looked to the booth of rental gear. Her hands rubbed off each other for warmth. “Do you know how much everything costs? At this point I’m not winning any bids, so I might as well through my money on a coat and some gloves.”

[andimcrgan]

— LUCY BAKER.

It was a night out on the town and Lucy hasn’t done this type of thing since her college days in the city that never sleeps. Sure that’s when she was younger and would call going to the bars and clubs an event with her friends. However this event felt bigger than the ones she had been to in New York, including a lot fancier and Lucy decided she was going to relax and have fun tonight. With the type of week she had last week, the blonde realized she needed to take a chill pill. The event was semi formal, and even though Lucy hated getting dressed up the blonde decided to do it anyway. Putting on a purple long dress, her back was open & it was tied in a bow the Chicago native kept her hair down and threw on her heels. Little make up and her favorite necklace, the thirty-two year old grabbed her clutch and checked herself in the mirror one more time. Taking a breath, she did a shot of whiskey before leaving. 

 Once arriving, the blonde took a deep breath. She hated crowds, always have and always will. For some reason they just bothered her but the blonde kept her promise and decided she was going to have fun. The cold wind hit her skin and she instantly felt chills, heading into Alibi. She walked around for a few minutes and then pushed her hair back behind her ears before finally moving towards the bar. Standing at the bar now, Lucy turned around to the person standing next to her “Please tell me what your choice of alcohol is.. I need some options.” @elisabethstarters​

—

Andi’s eyes quickly shot to the side, glancing over the other woman’s face, before a soft, contemplative hum built in her throat. “Personally? I just go with whatever’s cheap - so bottom shelf wisely and a splash of coke - but it’s all free tonight so that’s not really an issue.” Lucky for her, too, because she’d only shown up at the auction with a meager fifty dollars to spare. If not for the open bar she never would’ve survived a night among the island elite. Certainly not trussed up in a ridiculous (though admittedly stunning) dress. Andi wasn’t cut from the same cloth as ninety percent of the people there, and she needed copious amounts of booze to forget that fact. “What are you feeling tonight?” Though off the clock, her inner bartender clicked on. “Something light and fruity? Smoky and neat? I’m a simple girl, myself, but I’ll try to help you out.”

[andimcrgan]

ROCKWATER RESORT CHARITY AUCTION | 01.22.21

“ Arriving solo - in a borrowed dress and feeling totally out of her depth - Andi Morgan made an appearance at the Rockwater Resort’s annual auction mostly to show support for the men and women of the local Coast Guard and Mountain Rescue. For most of the evening she clung to the fringes with other familiar faces from around Fremont or happily took advantage of the open bar. ”

[andimcrgan]

— MARLEY CALLAHAN.

There was something about dancing that just made Marley feel alive. She wasn’t particularly good at it–not trained in anything more than throwing her arms above her head, closing her eyes, moving her hips relatively to whatever beat was blasting overhead, but she loved it, all the same. The thump of the bass in her chest, getting lost in a sea of bodies…even if she was dancing alone, she never really was. Though this particular night, she craved a little more than just the default company her fellow dance floor occupants offered. As her eyes scanned the bar for potential prospects, a smirk formed on her lips upon finding the perfect one, body snaking through the crowd until she was stood right before them, hand already outstretched. “You should dance with me.” She declared, loud enough to be heard over the music. 

@elisabethstarters​

—

As soon as their eyes locked across the crowded floor Andi knew what would come next. Knew it, anticipated it, and absolutely-fucking-dreaded it. She didn’t dance. Didn’t sing. Didn’t do anything that might draw unnecessary attention to herself. She’d spent enough of the last six years under the suffocating weight of too many eyes to know she wasn’t about that life - not really. 

That was real Andi, though. The melancholy, miserable, and small Andi she tried so desperately not to show around Marley. Finding a friend who didn’t automatically know her entire life story - beginning, middle, and end - was an unexpected blessing. The second she hinted things weren’t as happy go lucky as they seemed it’d all change. 

So Andi smiled. She smiled a wide, cheek splitting grin and took the hand. Once upon a time she knew how to have fun. What was life but one big game of pretend? “I’m not nearly drunk enough for this,” she yelled over the music, though, seamlessly introducing an excuse for why her heart might not be one hundred percent in it. “Every time I fall on my face you owe me another shot.” 

[andimcrgan]

— LAURIE MERRIOTT.

date: 12/01 time: 12:04am location: alibi @elisabethstarters​

It’s another busy night and Alibi is bulging with people. Some are thrashing near to the stage, where a new local band’s lead guitarist has ripped his mesh shirt off and is swinging it around, over his flaming-red head. There’s a swaying, dizzy line to the bathroom, and the bar feels cramped, people squishing against one another to try and get the bartenders’ attention.

Laurie, cheeks flushed, heart pounding so hard she’s sure it’s just about as ready as she is to burst and punch a customer in the face, is panting. She’s made record time in fixing someone a whiskey sour, and her hands are shaking.

“Gimme a sec,” she barely mumbles over the band, but her coworkers, used to Laurie’s troubles with talking, picks up on it nevertheless and nods.

The nighttime air hits like an airport embrace, and Laurie would throw her arms around it were it shaped like a person. She sags against the wall, and shivers when the thin sheen of sweat beading along her shoulders and brow begins to dry. 

It’s after a few deep breaths that she notices somebody smoking a few feet away.

“Can I bum one?”

—

There was a good reason why Andi only ventured out to Alibi once in a blue moon, and the fact that it amounted to a two hour round trip was only part of it. Larger bars meant more people. More people meant higher risks. Drunk people got friendly, and for the right price friendly people liked to share. 

She hadn’t fought tooth and nail for two years of semi-sobriety to fuck it all up now.

Maybe. Probably? Eh. Probably not. Andi’s self preservation instincts were in short supply ninety-nine percent of the time.

So far she’d behaved, though. She tossed back a few shots to set fire to her blood and then spent the rest of her time outside burning through her last pack of smokes. Four left. Three once she looked to her company and tossed over the carton, battered and smudged with a few questionably sticky thumbprints.

“It’s just maple syrup, I swear.” A half cocked smile hinged on her lips. “I babysit a four year old with sneaky, thieving hands.”

[andimcrgan]

— DYLAN RUSSO.

open starter: assume connections if we haven’t plotted yet. location: a bar or any place where they sell booze.

dylan was playing with fire, and he knew that. he just didn’t care as much as he probably should, not when he has already had two shots of whiskey and is currently sipping on his third. wallowing, attempting to get over this negative cloud that’s ruining his energy. with a lick of his lips, the male cocks his head, “it doesn’t take a piece of shit to hang around another piece of shit, and i guess we’ve found each other.” his tone is teasing, though the truth lingers. as he stands from his seat, finishing off his drink – he hits someone, turniing with wide eyes the male mutters, “oof, watch where you’re –”  @elisabethstarters​

—

A drink. All she wanted was one single, measly, cheapest of the cheap drink. Andi should’ve known it wouldn’t be that easy. Her life was nothing if not a series of curveballs and brick walls. Halfway from the front door to an empty stool shoulder collided with chest and, like a slow motion scene in a B-rated movie, she fell flat on her face. A film of mud flecked beer coated her palms. There was a new rip in the knee of her jeans. Most concerning, though, was the little black box that’d flung from her pocket toward a destination unknown. 

“No.” This couldn’t be happening. “No, no, no, no, no!” She should’ve gone straight home. Should’ve had more sense than to show up at dive bar - of all places - still carrying around her old ring. Crawling between the seated patrons, not a single fuck given about propriety, she began to swat and pat her way through the shadows between bar top and terminally sticky floor. “I can’t--- did you---” Rebelling against the threat of tears she sank teeth to her lip, wild eyes swinging to the man she’d accidentally assaulted. “Did you see where that went?”

[andimcrgan]

— DOMINIC MILLER.

@elisabethstarters​ Location: Shooters, late evening.

Shooters was pretty empty as he headed on break to sit inside at the bar and grab some food from the kitchen. The perk of working at a place that had at least some food, it meant they had a salad too. Dom was a pretty healthy guy and you could tell just by looking at him he took care of himself. He goes to the gym, he runs, and he eats relatively healthy. At least, as healthy as his cooking skills let him. Lara had been the one that cooked in the relationship so two years following her funeral, he’s stuck to salads and meat or buying pre-made meals for a change-up. The salads aren’t bad at least for a rooftop lounge and he’s fine with keeping an eye on things inside. Of course, the place wasn’t always so calm and collected, it just seemed like Monday wasn’t going to be a hit which was a drag for the bartenders but not for the only fucking introvert in this bar. The man taps on the bar as he waits for one of the bartenders to be free to get his order in, distracting them for a moment before directing their attention to the person nearby. “Sorry. No, you go. I’m here all night. Order whatever,” he mentions to the person, an employee obviously going after guests. “The sliders are pretty good, if you’re lookin’ for food. I’m a big fan,” he nods. “If you’re looking for a drink, I’d go with the margarita. They make a damn good frozen one.” 

—

Sometimes you were left with only two choices: spend money otherwise meant for bills, or seriously consider the consequences of putting your head through a wall. Both were equally awful in their own right, but it wasn’t hard to figure out the winner when Andi sank onto the stool next to Dom.

“Why thank you.” A smirk dangled off the edge of her mouth. “If I’d known to expect such chivalrous company I would’a showed up hours ago.” Of course, she’d been too busy thumbing through a coffee stained envelope of cash back then. Tonight was Monday, she couldn’t go to the bank until Tuesday, and her electric was due Wednesday. Plenty of time to figure out how the hell she’d make up the deficit, right?

Andi slipped a rumpled twenty from her pocket, deciding yes, and handed it to the bartender, opting for the sliders Dom suggested and some whiskey, bottom shelf. “It’s pretty dead in here—“ She cast a glance around the mostly empty bar. “Should I throw a few elbows and blame it on the dude behind me to liven up your night?”