a breath held under water

i'm a split identity. a breath held under water. andrew nolton // thirty-three // senior news producer // five years in monleon

[andynolton]

logandanvers​:

𝖢𝖮𝖬𝖬𝖴𝖭𝖨𝖳𝖸 𝖢𝖤𝖭𝖳𝖤𝖱, 𝗥𝗜𝗩𝗘𝗥𝗦𝗜𝗗𝗘 𝗗𝗜𝗦𝗧𝗥𝗜𝗖𝗧 — with @andynolton​​.

“So did I hear that right? It’s your first time skating?” Lifting the lid of the brand new CCM skates he’d brought along — a gift, in the requested size, as part of the hockey lesson he’d donated to the local hospital’s charity gala auction — Logan pulled the boots from the box one by one, loosening the laces before passing them to Andrew to put on. The rink was cold, a refreshing climate compared to the sweltering heat outside, and he was eager to get back on the ice. It had been a few weeks since he’d last donned his skates, and packing his bag for the private instruction made him realize that, no matter how many hockey seasons he cycled through, the excitement of impending pre-season training would always be there. In a month’s time, he’d be back on the ice with his teammates for their preseason training camp, and he could hardly wait. Turning to his protégé, seated on the bench next to him in the empty arena, he asked: “You want me to lace ‘em up for you? First time or not, some people are really particular about their their skates, so I don’t wanna overstep.” 

Andy grimaced, just a little. “Unless you count me getting knocked on my ass a few times when I was 7, yeah, I’m a newbie,” he joked lightly, in a gently self-deprecating manner. That was generally the space in which his humor lived. He looked down at the skates on his feet, feeling a little bit like a kid again, asking his dad for help tying his laces when he looked back up at Logan. “I might need a little help here,” he said with a crooked smirk, feeling a sort of jittery excitement in his fingertips. He had been half-inclined to give away the prize to someone else, but after a gentle push from his grandmother—she always did worry about how much time Andy spent alone—he agreed that an afternoon on the ice couldn’t be that bad. Right? Besides, Andy was desperate for some time spent around other adults other than work, and he wasn’t very good at going out and trying new things—at least, not since he came back from overseas—so perhaps this was just the push he needed. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he heard Moira’s voice: don’t be such a little punk, Nolton! What’s the worst that could happen?

[andynolton]

evierhodcs​:

Evie was generally good about her diet, a habit that she’d developed during her pageant years. But there were times when she craved nothing but a donut from the local diner. Once she paid for the strawberry-frosted treat and a cup of cold brew, she spotted a familiar face in one of the booths. “Andy Nolton,” she greeted, giving her colleague a warm smile. While Evie knew that she was exceptionally skilled at her job, there were some others in the industry that she held great admiration for, and Andy was one of them. “Had a hankering for diner food like me?” she asked, glancing at his coffee. “What are you working on?” she inquired, taking a sip of her coffee, having a feeling that whatever it was, it was something important. “I’m here if you need an extra pair of eyes, or someone to bounce opinions off of - or just someone to talk to. But if working alone is more your style, no hard feelings.”

Andy looked up and his expression instantly shifted into a pleasant grin. “Evie Rhodes,” he replied, gesturing to the seat in front of him for her to join him at the table, this diner having been one of their favorite spots for lunch when their bosses were particularly grating on their nerves and they were desperate for a little junk food. “You know me. I can’t deny myself shitty coffee,” he joked lightly, picking up the coffee mug next to his laptop and taking another swig from it. “Ah, it’s nothing. Just a segment for tomorrow’s 6pm broadcast,” he said, closing his laptop with the understanding that it would probably be better if he just took a break and came back to it later. “No, no, it’s seriously boring. You don’t want to hear about the school board meeting, do you? Because I was fucking falling asleep there earlier, I swear.” 

[andynolton]

teresapreston​:

          Hazel hues scanned the crowded coffee shop as she looked for somewhere to sit. Somewhere to mind her own business. She hated needing caffeine during rush hour, but it was either caffeine or alcohol and she had a much too long shift at the hospital waiting for her. Three surgeries lined up for that afternoon and evening, two patients she had been following for months now, waiting for just the right moment to get them on the surgery table and end their lifelong suffering. It made Tess feel anxious and a tad bit excited to be able to move this forward, while her mother had never quite been a candidate for surgery because of her mental illness, it didn’t mean that it hadn’t been a lifelong suffering either. Even though she liked to paint herself as a bad person, Tess had a good heart and every once in a while — almost like unicorns populating earth — she was in the good mood she was that afternoon.

          Her good mood was also slightly wrapped in nerves. Nerves she had been trying to shake from the moment she had walked in the coffee shop. Zooming in on what was quite possibly the only available table around, she grabbed her paper cup from the counter and walked over to the man who was seemingly way too wrapped up in his own work to notice anything around him. She thought she could sit, and be there for minutes before he even realized there was another human being there, but the possibility of being distressed in anyway was far too unappealing. Tess cleared her throat as to get his attention. “Do you mind if I sit? I’ll be fucking quiet and you wont even notice me.”

Andy looked up and, for a moment, had an expression on his face not unlike a raccoon caught rooting around in a dumpster, or perhaps a dog after getting into something they were not supposed to, but his expression quickly relaxed. “Yeah, yeah, of course,” he said, gesturing vaguely in front of him before taking another swig of his lukewarm coffee, forcing it down if only because he was trying to stave off the inevitable caffeine crash that would come later (this was his fourth cup of the day, certainly a bad decision but one that Andy was making anyway). He paused for a moment before adding. “You don’t have to be quiet. If you don’t want to be, anyway. I mean, uh—” He fumbled for words. God, why was this so much easier when he was writing? 

“I mean, like, I’m due for a break anyway, and you could look like you could use some company.” He paused again. “Not, like, you look bad or something, just—” He felt a scarlet tinge start to rise from his throat into his ears. “I’m going to stop digging myself a hole here. Too much caffeine, too little human interaction, and now I’m acting like I’ve been living in a white room by myself eating saltines for the last 10 years.” He picked up his coffee mug with both hands, as if his palms would warm the coffee again, though he knew he would probably end up just grimacing through the rest of it, since he was never one to waste. “I’m Andy,” he added, somewhat belatedly, and felt his lips tug into a mildly pained expression. It was like he had gone feral in the few days he’d spent on his own in the wilds of his apartment.

[andynolton]

fayepeterscns​:

Everyone in their little underground circle of friends had caught onto Faye’s peaked interest in Andy– at least all of them except Andy himself. Faye’s eyes were hard to catch and Andy seemed to do it with little to no effort at all. Not even Faye had completely realized how she felt when she was around him. Her stomach felt like it was filled with butterflies, she did the cliche move of tucking her hair behind her ears, and she giggled at his jokes even if she didn’t entirely get them. 

Besides, when she was with Andy she could just be herself. She didn’t have to be professional and a little more reserved like she was at work. Faye loved her work, but this was the person she really was at the core of it. She was ripped jeans, worn combat boots, and loud grunge music. Most of the people she met through work were the exact opposite of that, and that was why she took so much to Andrew. Faye still got to go and be out on the scene, and she still got to enjoy the music with someone. Going to these things were never fun when she went alone. 

Some guy next to her in the crowd started shouting in her ear, asking if she wanted to grab drinks when this was over. Faye turned back to ask Andrew if he wanted to get out of there, but all she saw was his back as he pushed his way out of the crowd. As Faye tried to follow, the guy kept trying to pull her back– insisting she needed to stay and enjoy the music. With a good fuck off, Faye got him off of her and she pushed past the crowd to go after Andy.

“Andrew…” Faye said quietly, gently putting a hand on his back as she calmly coaxed him. “I’ll take you home.” She bent her knees slightly to be face to face with him. Faye watched his face for a moment before allowing her hands to cup around the sides of his jaw, “I’m gonna take you home, okay?” She tried to bring him back to where she was, and outside any thoughts going on inside his head. “They really should come with some fucking warning.” Faye’s brows furrowed, shooting a glare at the people outside the club that had started to stare. “C’mon, I’ll get a car.” 

Andy flinched as she touched him, though when he realized who it was, he seemed to crumple in on himself further, as if he felt he no longer needed to try and put up any sort of strong front to deal with the onslaught of terror. He still gasped for breath, reaching up to his collar and dragging it away from his throat as he coughed in his relentless quest for air. He waved Faye off lightly, taking a couple of steps back until he was leaning up against the wall.

He sank slightly as he felt his knees give way under him, but he pulled himself back up, forcing his eyes open to count objects around him. Dumpster, 1, wall, 2, shoes, 3 & 4, cellphone, 5, door, 6, door handle, 7, Faye’s hands, 8 & 9...He looked at her hands for a moment longer before reaching a hand out, some what impulsively, to take one of hers, squeezing it perhaps a little too hard as he nodded. “Okay. Yeah. I’m okay. Let’s go.” He swallowed thickly, obviously not okay but needing to leave that place as soon as possible. He could still hear the sounds of the concert beneath their feet, and it made him want to puke. 

Guilt pulled at his chest, at the thought that he pulled Faye from their small group of friends and a concert she had been interested in for the weeks leading up to it, but selfishly, Andy couldn’t bring himself to pull his hand from hers, to tell her that he was fine and that she should go back to their friends. He wanted to spend time with her—she was one of the few people who made him feel like he was normal, like what had happened to him hadn’t broken him—and Andy needed that in that moment. He didn’t need someone who was going to coddle him; he needed someone who understood that he would be fine if he was just given time. 

It felt futile, sometimes, trying to work against the war zone in his mind. It felt like it would never get better sometimes, that he was always going to be walking around like a ticking time bomb. His therapist said that setbacks were normal, but frankly, each one felt like a fucking failure. 

[andynolton]

→ derek caldwell

DEREK: how's that been going for you?

DEREK: i guess that tracks?

DEREK: oh, i'm pretty close

DEREK: finally you offer. i've been trying for years

DEREK: 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

ANDY: not great tbh

ANDY: i always knew u had the hots for me

ANDY: the puppy dog face works a lot better in person

[andynolton]

vegaspvcks​:

When Vega saw his reaction she pretty much dropped into the seat instantly, afraid someone else may try and take it from her. She settled pretty much instantly as she pulled the book from her bag and set it upon the table. ‘’Thank you so much.’’ She extended her gratitude, reaching over and taking a long sip of her coffee, instant pleasure ran through her body as she hummed. It was what got Vega through her day, if she didn’t have her coffee the attitude change was actually rather scary; even she had to admit that. 

Eyes shot back to the man when he spoke, as Vega looked around the room again and then back to him. ‘’I know right?’’ She says with a tone of astonishment. ‘’I usually come here because it’s quiet…I’m guessing everyone else thought the same today.’’ She’d flipped to the page she was going to begin reading; who didn’t love a little bit of Jane Austen? But placed it down once again when the room’s chatter seemed to get louder, sighing as her shoulders slump. How was she ever going to get any reading done in here? Maybe she should have taken her coffee to go, she thought. 

‘‘It’s a pleasure to meet you Andy, I’m Vega.’‘ She responds. ‘‘It’s gonna’ sound like that age old question, but do you come here often?’‘ She chuckled ‘‘I promise, I’m not trying to hit on you.’‘ 

“Hey, no problem,” Andy replied with an affable shrug. He was looking for a break from his writing, anyway, and hopefully he wouldn’t be bothering the woman in front of him too much if he struck up a conversation with her. It was a nice afternoon—which was probably why it was so packed in the diner—and Andy realized that he was getting a little too caught up in the nitty gritty of his work. He tended to do that—obsess over the details—and it was nice to take a step back and give his brain a rest before returning to his work with a renewed vigor. 

He wrinkled his nose lightly. “I shouldn’t be as mad about it as I am, because, you know, I want to make sure this place stays open and busy nights are good for that and all that stuff, but...I kind of like it more when it’s like a ghost town in here. It’s hard to think when there’s so much going on.” Andy could tell that she was having some trouble concentrating as well, by the way she hesitantly flipped her book open only to close it again. He gave up on writing for the time being, saving his work and shutting his laptop. 

Andy laughed. “Yeah, I guess you could say that,” he replied. “My office isn’t far from here, and if I’m feeling a little claustrophobic in there, I like to come here and work instead. This place has more windows, at least,” he said, gesturing vaguely. He paused before adding: “I promise, I just thought you were being nice,” he said, a lightly teasing tone to his voice. “This place doesn’t exactly scream romance.” 

[andynolton]

magic-ellie​:

When he told her the reason of why his leg hurt, she did not know what to say so it was better not to actually say anything but what called her attention was to know that he was a journalist and that could actually help her business. “Well, Wolverine is cool,” she smiled at him. “Listen, not to abuse my trust here. I barely know you, but I’m new to Monleon. I arrived here about a month ago and I opened a business. An unusual one, if you want to call it that. One that involves tarot card readings, incence, candles, crystals and, I need people to know about it. Flyers can only do so much. Would it be possible to have a story about my shop?” The teenage girls from school made wonders because thanks to them, more people came, but people was still surprised when they walked and came across “Magic Moon.”

“Yeah, I guess you can say I’m a badass now,” Andy replied with a slight quirk to his lips. He paused, taking a sip of his coffee as she spoke, his brow furrowing slightly as he thought about it before he rummaged around in his pocket for his wallet and withdrew his business card. “Shoot me an email with some information. I’ll see if my editors are interested in the pitch,” he said, offering it to her. “I can’t make any promises—it seems like they have the weirdest ideas of what’s newsworthy—but for what it’s worth, it sounds pretty interesting to me.” He shrugged a shoulder. “I’ll see what I can do,” he added amiably. Andy figured that if he was going to be in this town doing stories he hated, he might as well try and sneak a few in there he actually found interesting, too. And what was more interesting than the witch down the block?

[andynolton]

magic-ellie​:

Ellie sighed and bit her lower lip. “Yeah, that’s a good advice.” She did not want to deal with Cason right now, not ever. She was done with him for good. Probably done with Monleon too because the night before she had been checking if there were tickets available to return to Alaska. This city was way to small for her and her ex and no matter how much she tried to avoid him and vice versa, both were bound to find each other again. She had made good friends here, like Derek and Candice, but she just wanted to ran away or stay in bed with the covers up to her head and never see the light of the sun, but that was too extreme. She knew she had to face her problems, she did it once when she decided to tell Cason the truth about her and Ricky instead of just going through with the marriage, pretending all was well. “What happened to your leg?” she asked. 

Andy nodded. “Yeah, it seems like I’m usually better at giving advice than following it myself,” he let out with a soft laugh. He pressed his lips together for a moment, trying to find some sort of excuse for how he hurt his knee—soccer in college, car accident, tripping down the fucking stairs—but somehow, he couldn’t bring himself to pretend. He was just fucking tired of it, he supposed, so he told her the truth. “I was a journalist in Syria five years ago. We were in a bazaar when an IED went off and pretty much shattered my knee.” He rapped his knuckles lightly against it. “I had to get a full replacement. It’s totally titanium now, which I think makes me Wolverine.” He kept his tone light, but there was no mistaking the light shake in his fingers when he curled them back into a fist and rested his hand against his thigh.

[andynolton]

i’ve got an atlas in my hand

@fayepeterscns <3 

Andy usually didn’t have problems in crowds. He used to, when he first came back, but now, it didn’t feel so suffocating anymore. In fact, he started to enjoy himself in these crowds again, started to feel like he could breathe even when there were bodies pressing on him from all sides. This was something that he used to enjoy when he was in high school, back in Miami, back when things were simpler and he was happier. It was so much easier to be happy there. 

But he knew it wasn’t the place that kept him from being happy, it was him, and he knew that if he was ever going to try and get back to that, he was going to have to figure out a way to move forward. It certainly wasn’t easy, and he wasn’t sure what he was going to do to try and make things better, but for now, going to shows and trying to get back to some measure of normal was enough for him to feel like he was making progress in the right direction. 

What he didn’t expect was that this particular band, their brand of punk seemed to be centered around war and saying fuck war, which, Andy was all about until the sampled sounds of explosions and gunfire pierced through their song. Almost immediately, Andy felt a tightness grip at his chest, and he started to hear the sounds of the bazaar being leveled around him, the feeling of being thrown back into the building as if it was happening right then, and he needed to leave. 

Without mentioning anything to Faye, he managed to shove his way through the crowd until he made it outside, hoping the fresh air would help him feel a little better, but it only served to remove any sort of distraction. Flashbacks to the moment started to flicker in his mind and before his eyes and he doubled over, clawing at his chest and his throat as if he could peel away the layers of anxiety until he could breathe normally again, but he couldn’t. That wasn’t how this worked.

He pressed his palms against his knees, leaning against them as he gulped in air, trying not to hyperventilate as the world spun around him. He was fairly certain he might be sick, but he swallowed the feeling back. He was paralyzed in spot, and the last thing he wanted was to puke all over his shoes.

[andynolton]

magic-ellie​:

“Yeah, a lot,” Ellie sighed and ran a hand through her hair. She had a hard time sleeping and her family was pretty worried. She had to tell the the truth eventually and when shit hit the fan the night before at the event, she went back home and contacted her mom. She asked why she was so upset and crying, so Ellie told her everything and how she found out that her ex was in the city. Her aunts told her it was fate and that since she met Cason back in Alaska they were connected and no matter what, they would find each other again, but she had no time to listen to them, not now anyway. “What did you do?” she asked him. “How do you take the stuff inside your head and get it out? I’ve…been trying and I just…I’m so confused right now that I feel like I can’t even think. It’s too frustrating.” Not even the relaxing tea she drank last night helped with her anxiety. She rubbed her hands together, a nervous habit since she was a child. “I’m Ellie, by the way.” 

Andy shrugged a shoulder. “Who said I ever got it out?” he asked, quirking an eyebrow at her, though he supposed he should be less cynical. “I don’t know. I guess I just let it out one piece at a time until it was small enough that I didn’t have to constantly worry.” Andy paused for a moment, looking down at his cup of coffee and running his thumb across the edge of the lid. “I don’t know,” he repeated. “It’s not easy. I guess all you can do is face up to whatever you gotta face up to and hope that’ll fix the problem.” It was something that Andy was still struggling to do, something that he couldn’t quite bring himself to do. The guilt had been eating him alive for years now—the memories of dust and sand and sweltering sun and unimaginable pain all kept him from facing the truth of what had happened five years previously and he wasn’t interested in rehashing it all yet. It would be too much. 

[andynolton]

vegaspvcks​:

It was busy today, the place she usually came every single morning just to get her day started before she went through her repetitive daily errands and ended up in the bar drinking champagne until the room was slanted and her head buzzed a little too loud. As she walked further in she decided to take the chance at getting her drink and a seat opening up. If not she was pretty sure she was going to have to either charm or con her way into one of them.

And she really didn’t want too right now. 

After Vega had ordered and was walking back to the room, she sighed slightly. It didn’t look like there was anywhere to sit and the park bench outside didn’t look appetising in that moment. Especially when it was right next to a trash can. But her green orbs landed upon a single free chair opposite a man who looked like was working away. Could she? She had too. 

‘‘Do you mind if I take this seat? All the others are taken?’‘ Vega asked as she jutted her thumb over her shoulder in the direction of all the seats that were occupied by different people. All she wanted too do was sit, her feet hurt and there was a new book in her bag that was burning to be read; she wanted to get lost in the world of Tolstoy while listening to the fine works of Tchaikovsky and sipped on a fine cup of coffee that was now burning her hands slightly. 

‘‘I promise I’ll be as silent as a mouse, I have my headphones and a wonderful book.’‘ She patted her bag that currently hung off her shoulder. She just prayed that he wasn’t going to be someone that asked her to go away, because that would just make it all the more harder. 

Andy looked up with a sort of deer-in-the-headlights expression on his features, blinking a couple of times before he actually registered what she was asking. “Oh, yeah, totally,” he said, gesturing to the seat across from him with a vague flourish of his hand before he dropped his hand to his coffee again and took another swig, now fully aware of how bitter and gross the coffee here actually was. Still, he needed the caffeine, so he gestured at the server to top off his mug. 

“I didn’t expect it to be so busy,” he said mildly, continuing to type with a surprising ability to multitask—even as he said different words than he was writing, he managed not to make a single typo. A gift, he supposed, from years of having plenty of worse distractions from the task at hand as he tried to file a story. 

He glanced up again to look at her, offering a warm smile. “I’m Andy,” he added genially. Even if he was in the midst of work, it wasn’t like he was cruel—and she looked like she could use a friend, even if it was only for a couple of hours. 

[andynolton]

emiliabaccvich​:

She loves being kept in the know, and is easily won over by a slip of the tongue or a tumble of words not necessarily meant for her ears. Her eyes follow the direction of his hand, settling upon two silver headed women adorned in jewels and dressed to the nines –– as they should be. Monleon, she’s inclined to forget, is an inherently moneyed town, and with a name like Astor and Humphrey, there is undoubtedly money involved in their little feud. She snorted derisively, sinking her Cheshire cat grin into another frothy sip of champagne, “well, we’re at no risk of assuming they’ve run around with each other’s husbands; we’d hear more talk about fractured hips if that was the case. Too bad they’re all haughty, I’d love to pick their brains.” A shiver ran down Emilia’s spine at the thought. “Forget dentures. The representative from the Veterans Association looks like he’s this close to pulling out the bullet still lodged in his arm from ‘Nam. Too many millennials getting under his skin, do you think?”

“I don’t know, old people can be pretty spry. I’m pretty sure my grandma could still whoop my ass if I got in trouble,” he joked lightly. He pushed both hands deeper into his pockets, scanning the room until his eyes fell on the VA rep who was in the room that night, a smirk quirking up at the corner of his lips. “Probably saw me in the corner and thinks I’m VC,” he replied with a sort of dark chuckle. Andy’s humor had always been a bit dark, but it seemed to him like she could handle it, and he was glad for that fact. He had plenty of shit that he dealt with by laughing about it, and being the odd one out because of how he looked certainly wasn’t a new phenomenon for him. 

[andynolton]

caldwellderek​:

        The food sat out neatly and heated just perfectly. Guests were beginning to filter in. It was still early on in the evening and Derek was tasked with making sure the spread looked perfect. The head chef saying he had vision, whatever the hell that meant. But it caused his chest to swell with pride. It was a little bit of air from the kitchen. It was the face the hotel was putting on for the gala. The voice caught his attention, smile growing when his eyes fell on Andy. “When do you ever know what you’re doing? Yet you somehow always pull it off. Kinda unfair.” He looks around the room and offers a shrug. “I couldn’t tell you much. Not yet. Probably will be lowkey.”

       Pointing at the food, he breaks into a grin. “Try the mini cheeseburgers. Actually, try everything. There will be a quiz later.” He straightens out his jacket. “You covering the whole thing?” 

“Very, very rarely,” Andy replied, looking around the room with an expression not unlike a deer in the headlights as he adjusted his jacket on his shoulders. Run directly into gunfire overseas? Sure. Try and talk to people whose faces were regulars on the society pages? Forget about it. Andy had already been having a tough day that day, with his anxiety shooting through the roof and his heart constantly in a state of elevated pulse rate to the point where he started to feel slightly ill to his stomach, but he swallowed back the feeling. 

Andrew looked over the food. “This all you?” he asked, raising an eyebrow as he inspected the food more closely. “I don’t know, dude, looks like it could poison me way too easily.” Andy gave Derek a good-natured grin. “Yeah, I guess. I might fall asleep before the end of it, though.” 

[andynolton]

bellamybaycliffe​:

Running a small business was difficult and came with it’s own unique set of challenges. Each year it seems like the government’s collar around Bellamy’s neck becomes tighter. Federal income tax rates skyrocket to the point that it’s almost unbelievable. Though, as she has quickly learned, her competitors face the same problems as she does. Regardless of the industry they’re in, they were all essentially in the same boat. All in all, she was just happy that C’est La Vie was still receiving the traction - and then some - since she had taken over four years ago. Perhaps, it had to do with Logan and Lily Danver: the two siblings who were incredibly influence to the town and on social media with their large following, constantly posting about the bakery. She can’t help but wonder if her business would be doing as well without their help.

So, as the night went on, Bellamy did her mingling. She caught up with other business owner’s to let them know that she was still in the game and that she wasn’t going anywhere. Silently, but still doing well. This evening was for Bellamy to show face, but most of all, it was a night to have some fun with her friends. 

Everyone needs a moment to themselves, though. And this moment was for Bellamy to take a break from the crowded room. She flees the humidity of the ballroom. But, in the midst of her escape out onto a random spot outside, she finds that she isn’t alone, and unfortunately, possibly butting into someone else’s alone time. ❛ Oh, hi … Ah, — Allan? ❜ She asks after a moment of realization. ❛ No. That doesn’t sound right. Um, fuck … ❜ Between one, too many drinks that she had a low tolerance with and having a terrible memory, Bellamy forces herself to think hard about this man’s name. ❛ … Andrew, right – ? ❜ That sounded about right. ❛ I think - I think you interviewed me when I first took over C’est La Vie. I’m Bellamy, ❜ The business owner reintroduce’s herself in case he doesn’t remember her, either while cautious taking a step or two closer to Andy, not exactly sure if he would be receptive to her company.

Andrew raised an eyebrow as she called him Allan, unable to keep the smirk that rose to his lips as he waited for her to figure out the right name. He nodded. “Andrew. Andy works, though,” he said with a huff of laughter. “Yeah, I might have,” he replied, rubbing at his jaw thoughtfully. “The bakery, right?” Andrew’s memory had been spotty at best lately, perhaps because of the ways that depression just fucked him up generally, and he was certain that was starting to bleed through into his work. He hadn’t yet forgotten a story or a source, but he also knew that it was only a matter of time until his memory started failing him there, too. Something had to change, but he sure as hell was not sure what it was. 

“Enjoying the evening?” he asked, gesturing vaguely around them with a hand in his pocket, the gesturing hand still holding onto the cigarette between his index finger and thumb. “It’s a bit crowded in there for my taste. And I don’t think I’m really the target audience here,”  he joked lightly. Monleon was an inherently moneyed town—Andrew was sure he’d never fully fit in.

[andynolton]

elenacordcva​:

The evening air was warm and perfumed with the scent of the bougainvilleas — a welcome reprieve from the clashing aromas in the hotel kitchen, where Eléna had spent the better part of the last hour trying to troubleshoot last-minute issues arising from an apparent shortage of hors d'oeuvres. The night was going fairly well, though it hadn’t been without its share of stressors. First, there’d been a minor crisis in the process of transporting members of the hospital’s board to the event, and then there had been the issue with the kitchen serving cold butter. But she met each challenge with all of the grace she could muster, and when that wasn’t enough, she’d resorted to locking herself in a bathroom stall to practice breathing exercises. There would be time for a meltdown when the evening was wrapped. 

She wasn’t sure how long she’d been standing outside of the Riverside — a few beats shy of fifteen minutes, perhaps, lost in the messages that had populated the notifications on her phone — when the doors opened to reveal a familiar figure. “Andrew,” she said lowly, drawing out his name as though they were old friends. In truth, her interactions with Andrew Nolton had been limited in scope to business. He wasn’t the usual contact from MX7 that she dealt with to cover her events, but his attendance was a welcome surprise. Even if she was uncertain that his cameraman was adequately capturing b-roll footage of the décor. “I wasn’t expecting you this evening. Who did you piss off in the newsroom to be stuck covering my event?” she asked, her question veiled with well-intentioned sarcasm. Glancing down at the cigarette tucked between his fingers, she added with an indicating nod: “Got an extra one I can bum? God knows I could use the nicotine right now.”

“You can just call me Andy,” he added quickly, gesturing vaguely with the cigarette in his hand, wondering if it made him look unprofessional—though, in all honesty, he didn’t quite care about his image in front of the people there. He was sure that whatever he projected, it wouldn’t quite be enough, and Andy’s insecurities had pushed him to smoking in the first place, which meant that he was probably going to be caught in this downward spiral for the rest of the evening. Andy snapped himself out of it when she asked him about how he had managed to pull the short straw, and he shrugged. “My editor says I need to ‘expand my horizons’,” he said, the quotes heavily implied around the offending phrase. Andy felt his horizons were expanded enough and he wanted to stick with what was familiar and comfortable. Now was really not the time to push him out of his comfort zone. 

Andy rummaged around in his breast pocket for a moment before pulling out a pristine pack of Camels, the box far too perfectly preserved to have been in use, and sure enough, when she opened up, she’d see that it was almost completely full with only a couple of cigarettes smoked. Perhaps this could have been interpreted as Andy not smoking very often, but it was just the opposite—he was constantly relying on nicotine, and he was always buying new packs to replenish his quickly depleting supply. He rummaged around some more before finding his lighter in another pocket and offering it to her. “I can imagine. You plan events this big often?” 

[magic-ellie-deactivated20200717]

Ellie stared at her hands while sitting there at the park. The last couple of days had been hell for her and she couldn’t pretend anymore. After what happened at the party, she went home and slept until midday the following day, posting that she was going to be available at the shop only in the afternoon and that the tarot card reading was on hold because she had to many customers that week. That was a lie, of course, she had no one, but she could not make a reading while feeling like shit and her energy being all negative. That was the first thing her aunts taught her, never do a reading while feeling draining, mentaly and emotionaly. She had to leave the house and after feeding Merlin, Ellie prepared some boxes and began to put things inside. She checked for available flights to Alaska because she was actually thinking on going back. She could not stay in Monleon with Cason there, not after what happened. Too confused as she was, she decided to have a walk and enede up in the park, sitting there and staring into nothing until someone bumped their knee against hers. “Sorry,” Ellie said, moving a little to give space to whoever wanted to sit there. 

[andynolton]

Andy had a knack for knwoing when people were in a rough spot. It was intuition, he supposed, and part of what made him such a good journalist, but he also knew it had a particular way of getting him into trouble almost all the time. He never knew when to just keep his mouth shut or when not to pry into something, especially when he had just gotten done with work, where his job was literally to pry. He pressed his lips together, studying her carefully for a moment before taking a seat with a soft groan. "Thanks," he replied. "I've got a bad knee, sometimes I just need to take a seat." Even now, five years later, his knee ached with memories of the desert. He paused, sipping his coffee. "It looks like you've got a lot on your mind," he commented, pursing his lips lightly as he studied her for a moment longer before looking down at the coffee in his hand and taking a sip of the scalding drink, wincing as he burned his tongue. "I've been there."

[andynolton]

→ derek caldwell

DEREK: you got insider info?

DEREK: i'm the biggest idiot in the world and you still talk to me

DEREK: you're... cool as shit, andy

DEREK: that's some bullshit i'll cook in the contacts

ANDY: ya i’ve been trying to befriend sasquatch for years

ANDY: but he’s too cool for me

ANDY: you are not the biggest idiot in the world i promise

ANDY: wow dude u wanna make out or what

ANDY: absolutely fucking not