let it all burn down

. . . 𝘤𝘶𝘵 𝘢 𝘴𝘪𝘹 𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘩 𝘷𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘪𝘥𝘥𝘭𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘺 𝙨𝙠𝙪𝙡𝙡.

[bulldose]

#bulldose a dependent blog associated with maplebrookhq.

ford macaulay : 29, he + him, struggling artist bartender.

haru kayano : 39, he + him, assistant to evelyn fairmont.

[divineinfamy]

It was becoming abundantly clear that JD had chosen the wrong stranger for conversational practice. At the man's questioning taunts, JD shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans. His gaze fixed to a stain on one leg that was pretty sure was now a permanent part of the fabric and tried his best not to simply slink away in embarrassment. He'd asked the question; it was his responsibility to follow through. "Yeah, all of the above, I guess," he answered, shoulders lifting in a shrug. He'd been feeling out of place before, but there was something about this man, with his clean lines and lilting tone, that reinforced that feeling for JD. He hated it, but he also couldn't bring himself to walk away. He wasn't really in the mood to feel like a failure today.

"Or break the rules," he supplemented. "Do you always go around breaking the rules?" Not that JD was a stickler for the rules, but it seemed like something like do not touch the art pieces needed to be followed. Or maybe he was just too worried about ruining the piece and being left with a debt he couldn't pay. "Mine too," he replied to the admission. "If that wasn't obvious." He coughed out a sort of laugh. "It's not obvious about you, though. Case you were wondering."

[bulldose]

"why, are you a cop?" he countered swiftly, not giving the guy a second to breathe as a scrutinizing gaze once again glided southward along the other's form. he looked like he could be a cop, maybe, in that small-town-bumfuck-nowhere ruffian type of way. haru had his doubts, though, mentally placing a bet on construction worker as he fell into a shrug, hands smoothly finding the pockets of his clean, black slacks as he did so. "rules are just suggested guidelines," he answered airily, the tweak in wording speaking volumes, even before confessing, "you could say that i'm a fan of... creative workarounds." haru didn't like roadblocks. he'd never been the type to 'wait and see,' especially when it came to his career hanging in the balance. an active mind demanded proactive problem solving was all.

a singular brow arched at the awkward snort of laughter, smile still yet to dim. haru shook his head and chose kindness, deciding to not reiterate just how much the other man stuck out like a sore thumb in the museum. the uncertain shuffling and lack of eye contact was enough already -- he didn't intend to amplify it any. "so," he started to ask instead, "how'd your sister trick you into coming here, then?"

[whiskeyneats]

"thank you. it's a nice little place, if i do say so myself." santiago chuckles, his gaze following over where ford is gesturing. while his nightclubbing days were more than likely over, he appreciated the space and what it offered to the town. "no? hm. i'm not sure if i should be flattered or if i need to set up my game." santiago thought he was exactly the type of person to own such a place, but he supposed he understood. it wasn't like he dressed in all black or anything in his every day life. "none taken." santiago pauses, offering for a reassuring smile. "oh, it's been some time. going on thirty some years at this point."

[bulldose]

ford clucked his tongue lightly, playing it up as he suggested, "definitely gotta up your game." there was a slow narrowing of his eyes, jokingly judgmental, as if he was sizing up santiago before making his pitch, "wear sunglasses in the daytime, always have a leather jacket with you - that sort of thing toootally screams bar owner." it was the gothic motif of widow's bite that threw him, really, but for all he knew, santiago was just a savvy businessman. maybe he'd seen a hole in the market in maple brook and filled it well. hearing how long the speakeasy had existed, ford let out a surprised whistle, clearly impressed. "damn, well, congrats on that, man. i... can't imagine doing anything for thirty years," he confessed with a light laugh, just shy of hitting his thirtieth himself as it was.

[timotaychalamet]

Last Night (2010) dir. Massy Tadjedin

[bulldose]

@blcssomfully

[blcssomfully]

vivienne didn't flinch even when ford leaned in so close that she could feel the heat of his breath ghosting across her lips. once upon a time, she might have faltered under the weight of his nearness, but she's learned now how unafraid ford was with intimacy that she's learned to welcome tolerate it. still, she knows better than to push the boundaries as his hand pressed steady at her waist, a weight she should have brushed away yet she didn't pull away, only allowing herself the smallest tilt of her head to look into those eyes. as much as she wanted to lean towards the touch, Vivienne remained rooted on her spot as she simply shook her head, not gracing his question with a response because she would rather not delve into that, not right now.

as he pulled away, her faze flicked to the book in question, then back to him, with amusement playing at the corners of her mouth. " if i wanted a man who couldn't read, ford, i assure you i could've found one with less effort, " she told him with mirth. no matter how deceitful people may think she was, she would never undermine her talents--always making sure that the contract is beneficial to the both of them. if it's more beneficial to her, then that's simply pure coincidental since her lawyers did the work after all.

when he took another step too close to the brunette, vivienne remained poised--not allowing him to see how easily his proximity stirred something low and traitorous in her chest. the people around them talked about their relationship and it would be so easy to prove them right, but she couldn't. professionalism was her armor and she wore it flawlessly though some might argue that there was nothing professional in letting him into her life in this manner. " careful, ford-- " she drawled out slowly, each syllable deliberate and edged with warning, " most men don’t find owing me anything so appealing. " his laugh broke the tension, and she let him lace their fingers together, squeezing him once as she allowed him to guide her inside.

her heels clicked with every step against the polished floor, echoing her return to her space. " you can carry it up to my room later. i assume it wasn't touched by any means, " she uttered plainly since that was her one rule for letting him stay in her house, to have her room simply the way it was. at the mention of him working, she couldn't help but raise a brow. " this work better not be a distraction to your real job. i won't have you walking into a shoot with shadows under your eyes, " vivienne reminded him before acquiescing with a nod, " but yes, a quick dinner sounds manageable. no fast food, though. come on-- my driver is still waiting outside. " / @bulldose

[bulldose]

vivienne's warning was not one that ford would heed, the fondness in his stare a glaring tell before he'd even answered, voice dipping to a low, private octave, "i'm not most men." their fingers threaded together and his smile widened, turning to pull her along inside. in the here and now, ford was content -- fulfilled, even, despite what he may have been telling others during his bouts of loneliness boredom. maybe his tendency to only live in the present was shortsighted, but he couldn't imagine wanting more, or needing things to be different. there was no realm in which this lifestyle of jet-setting and parties and flashy events warped his relationship with vivienne into a negative. it just wasn't possible!

(but, then again, wasn't that exactly what happened with his band -- happy until he wasn't?)

"don't worry, i've still been getting plenty of beauty sleep." as she had just witnessed from his poolside lounging. ford flashed her a grin that was all teeth, the corners of his eyes crinkling with the force of it while he fell into an easy shrug. "it's just a parttime bartending gig. nothing serious," he explained, suddenly unsure if he'd mentioned it to vivienne before in any of their sporadic texts or calls while apart. letting go of her hand, he drifted from her side as they passed through the kitchen, book traded for his discarded hoodie on the counter to pull on over his head, trying to at least look semi-presentable -- nike joggers and a matching navy sweatshirt didn't exactly scream 5-star dining attire, but doubted anything of the sort was on the agenda for tonight. ford was already scheming, thinking up a plausible angle to talk vivenne into getting their food to-go wherever they wound up, wanting much more to be able to eat in private. "i had to keep myself busy and out of trouble somehow, huh?" his tongue teasingly poked at the inside of his cheek, winking at vivienne while spinning on a heel to walk backwards across the foyer. slipping on his shoes, he got the door and gestured vivienne out ahead of him, following close behind. "have you ever been to secret ruins?" he asked, endlessly curious about her life in maple brook before his arrival. ford had caught himself more than once trying to picture vivienne in various places around town, wondering if she had favorite spots or nostalgic ties anywhere he'd stumbled himself. he'd never claim to be a romantic, but there was a reason for his songwriter's soul. "you should come by sometime while i'm working," he continued, not giving a single thought to the town gossip it might stir up. "or when we're running a promotion. that'd be fun."

[maplechester]

With hands shoved in his pockets, Chester weaved his way through the Fall Fest crowds, eyes bouncing from one stall to the next as he balanced the shy smile playing at the corners of his lips with maintaining his footing as he moved. Despite having been in Maple Brook for a year, many of those months were spent keeping to himself and making small talk with his co-workers; that was to say, Chester's social life remained sorely lacking. A fact he was reminded of, as it were, when attending seemingly any event in town. Stopping short, he found himself examining something branded mushroom coffee when a nearby voice captured his attention. Turning, he felt reassured at seeing the other seemed to be sporting an expression quite similar to his own. "I don't blame you. This seems..." With a shake of his head Chester gave a quick snort. "To answer your question though, yeah. About ten stalls...." Turning to his left, he raised his index finger and pointed. "...That way. Just around that curve there." Rather than dropping his hand, Chester rode the wave of a brief moment of confidence and extended it to the stranger. "I'm Chester, by the way. Chester Ali. Not-So-New-In-Town, I guess."

[bulldose]

"... like the perfect way to get poisoned?" he finished for the other, brow arching despite the slim twist of a smile at his lips. accidentally poisoned, of course, because he doubted anyone at aurora's fair had nefarious intentions, but there was something about foraged mushrooms versus store-bought that felt extra dicey. as haru would forever profess: human beings are stupid. head tilting, his gaze strayed to follow the man's gesture down the row of mazing booths, nodding and just about to head off in that direction when the introduction made him pause. "oh." a belated second and he reached for the offered hand, shaking it and introducing himself in return, "i'm haru kayano." reluctant resident of maple brook, was an apt descriptor for him, but not one that haru was quick to offer up. "what exactly does not-so-new mean?" he asked while withdrawing his hand, throwing out the guess, "returned home?"

[upendedmadness]

"a normal coffee stand? uhhhh." she looked at him and raised her eyebrows before pursing her lips. "come with me, i'm sure we can find something." she said, her eyes showing a smile that she couldn't hide. she knew what it meant to need coffee, she pretty much survived on it, and she couldn't hide that even though she wanted so desperately to hide her addiction. "any type of coffee you're looking for?" she asked, her eyebrows raised.

[bulldose]

with a nod, haru turned to follow the other's lead, strolling through the bustling crowd that'd shown up and shown out for fall fest. he'd been to the farmers market in town before, the vendors ever changing, but never when it was quite so busy. "at this point, even just black coffee would do," he answered, reluctant to admit to his preference for espresso and the occasional sweet affogato. it felt a little above even mushroom coffee blends. "it's been... a day," haru tagged on, an exhausted sigh giving way to a weak chuckle as he glanced at the woman.

[windflowz]

the overlap was brief, clumsy even, but it caught her off guard. she took a small step back, creating the sort of distance that could pass for practicality if he noticed at all. "thanks." then, a humorless little snort escaped before they could help it. for all the relief that should’ve come with knowing he wasn’t here to stay, there was something else sitting right behind it. they figured that was all it ever was with ford, temporary. "good. means i won’t have to see you around for too long." their arms folded, chin tilting slightly as they finally looked at him. his words lingered and something in their chest twisted, sharp and unwelcome. "and if you’d known, you'd have what—run the other way?" they asked flatly, meeting his eyes under the streetlight as if daring him to answer. "guess some things don't change." when asked about new york, xio tried to shrug it off, though the set of her shoulders gave her away, arms cinching closer around herself. "there's nothing keeping me there anymore. besides, i'd rather be where i'm needed." there were questions she wanted to ask him, and maybe that alone meant she still cared more than she wanted to. if things hadn’t gone the way they did, they’d be talking the way they used to. but ford had left, and if he had left, then she hadn’t been wanted. and xio never knew what to say or how to move through that space. "well—if you’re just passing through, then no reason to make this harder," they finally settled with that as they closed the tailgate, the thud ringing through the quiet street. their throat felt tight by the end, but they held their ground. 

[bulldose]

"oh, c'mon, don't do that -" his face scrunched as he threw his whole head into the motion of an exaggerated eyeroll -- the tantrum look, as dubbed by his family, usually making ford self-conscious enough to smooth his features back to neutrality, but he couldn't when it came to xio. he inhaled sharply, practically wincing when he dared to meet her gaze again. "don't put words in my mouth. you know i hate that shit." and it was how well they knew each other that made it so difficult to coexist, yet also was doing them no favors navigating life apart. ford didn't blame her for being pissed at him. if their positions were reversed, and it was xiomara who'd ditched the band? he'd be fucking livid. he would've started a smear campaign that spread from the bronx all the way to staten island! and as difficult as it was to face, he'd abandoned so much more than just a musical venture when he hitched his wagon to vivienne's glitzy promises. ford knew it, even if he couldn't admit it, something heavy sinking deep in his gut as xio snapped the tailgate shut. there was a dismissal there -- finality. but ford was spectacular at ignoring signs when he felt like it. "give me a ride." it wasn't a request, but a demand. his head jerked to the side, gesturing back where he'd came from. "i just ran thirteen miles, i deserve a break." not giving xio the time to reject him, he rounded the truck to the passenger side.

[bulldose]

open : capping at 3 ( 3/3 )

when : early afternoon, during fall fest

where : aurora's fair

words like artisanal and organic lit up some sort of twisted pleasure center in haru's mind, making him surprisingly willing to pay just about any price tag around the farmers market, but even he faltered when it came to mushroom coffee. he was still trying to work out what it was, exactly, standing a few feet back from the stall with his arms crossed over his chest, a squinting glare skimming every hand-drawn chalk sign in view. the mushrooms were homegrown and hand-picked -- all very nice things, sure, whatever, but could he get them not in his coffee, maybe? thinking only of his caffeine fix, haru shook his head a little and asked the person nearest, "you haven't seen a normal coffee stand anywhere, have you?" in his desperation, he even would've accepted drip.

[porphyros]

when : 5th of october, during the mean girls evening

where : central library

with : open (0/3)

                                "isn't it so unfortunate today is not a wednesday?" she mutters to the person next to her as they wait for the reading — which, in itself, seems like a poor choice. why have a reading when they could just watch the musical instead and then compare it to both of the movies? but considering this is a library, helena supposes there is some sense to this, and she is probably on the minority that will be complaining. it won't last, however, because she does enjoy a mean girls everything (tina fey, am i right?), as seen on the bright pink patterned dress she is wearing. "did you get some of the bubblegum lemonades? they sound awful, but, truly, they are delicious. just keep them away from the shelves, as i've been remembered thrice in ten minutes." she rolls her eyes, but even in doing so, there's some mischief there.

[bulldose]

a confusing chain of events had led haru to the library. he still couldn't quite explain it in a way that made any logistical sense, but here he was, sticking out like a sore thumb (his monochromatic wardrobe wasn't very fetch, unfortunately) while saving a string of seats beside himself for people he was beginning to fear would never show up. he'd given up on sending harassing texts a while ago, instead zoning out while nibbling at singular bits of popcorn, foot jiggling endlessly. "librarians are born narcs," he said to the woman beside him, seeming to have tuned into her friendly chatter late in the game. "it's in their blood. they get a thrill from scolding people, i think." it was another second or two before haru managed to break his staring contest with the - empty! - makeshift stage, finally glancing over to the other. he frowned slightly and asked, "is mean girls based on a book?" he was still lost on what a 'dramatic reading' could entail for a movie, but he wouldn't've been shocked to have missed out on a bubble of popular culture from the '00s.

[blcssomfully]

for a moment, valentina just stared at him. the effortless way he's slipped into that voice, that condescension she's known all too well--it was familiar in the worst way, because she's heard him use it a hundred times before towards people who probably didn't deserve it but it was never directed at her. not once had he spoken to her in that manner, not even in the middle of their ugliest fights. not until now it seems. her jaw clenched as she drew the clipboard closer to her chest like some kind of shield, reminding herself that she was at work. around them, she felt the shift in the kitchen, the staff slowing down just enough to sense the tension simmering between them. she couldn't afford to break her, not after everything. glancing at another staff next to her, she gave them a nod as she told them dismissively, " let me handle this. "

her eyes snapped back to haru. " follow me. " but without waiting for a response, she turned on her heels and expected him to follow. the brunette pushed through a door that led into the service hallway, heels clicking against the tile and moving far enough until the bustling of the kitchen dulled into a distant hum. only when she was sure that they wouldn't be able to hear them did she allow herself to finally speak. turning around to face him once more, her shoulders stiffened as she asked him flatly, " is there actually a problem with your seat or are you just being difficult for the sake of it? " but then her voice faltered in the slightest as she murmured under her breath, " six god-awful fucking months, haru. not one text. not a single word. and now you think you can barge in and complain like the whole damn world is failing to please you? " / @bulldose

[bulldose]

haru followed, obedient and quick as he always was, chasing the clicking sound of valentina's heels out into a silent hallway where the sound seemed to echo and grow louder around them. he was almost certain that she was leading him to some back exit where she could discreetly dispose of him, but then she was turning around with a halt, seeming to feel that they were finally far enough from the radius of her staff to speak freely. he opened his mouth to argue, a genuine (albeit politely sanitized) answer poised on his tongue, but just as quick, his jaw hinged shut. when it came to val -- when it came to their relationship, it wasn't difficult to hit a nerve these days.

"what did you expect?" haru's voice was like a knife, cutting straight to the point and unashamed to be heard. there was no wilting or hesitation on his part, just a condensed frustration that had him standing stoic and cold as marble. "i came home to find my apartment empty. no note - not one text, not a single word from you," he cruelly regurgitated valentina's words, eyes widening to a mocking degree as he continued to stare her down. "should i have tracked you down? came groveling at your feet to beg for forgiveness?" his scoff was close to a hiss, frown deepening as he swallowed back the painful knowledge that he had looked for her. quietly and carefully, haru put out feelers in those initial weeks following their separation, contacting mutual friends until he was able to piece together a roadmap of valentina's whereabouts, but that was where he'd stopped. he hadn't seen the point in reaching out. she'd left, she'd made up her mind. a situation like this was exactly what he'd been trying to avoid. mending relationships wasn't fathomable in haru's lived experience.

[windflowz]

their grip tightened on the dresser, shoes grinding into the gravel as ford shouldered. xio caught the damp state of him in her periphery, and for a half-second the sight struck them as absurd. he looked wrecked, nothing like the version they'd imagined. they shot him a sharp look, ready to bite but pragmatism won; it would be easier to let him help than to wrestle the weight alone, even if the thought made their jaw tighten. "no, i didn't," she said, her voice thin with effort. "i got it secondhand—it's practically new, the owner's moving and just wanted it gone so i got a good deal. only catch was hauling it out myself." her shoulder hitched against the wood, frustration pressing up alongside the physical strain. "figured if i’m staying put, might as well revamp my room. get comfy." she shook her head, hair slipping loose across her face. "why am i even telling you this?" finally, her eyes snapped to his with the resentment she’d buried. "and of all places, why here, ford?" xio hadn’t kept up with him after it all fell apart. for all she knew, he’d gone and made it big, just like he always wanted. wasn’t that the dream? the one he’d chosen over her, over all of them.

[bulldose]

his answer was a singular, stiff nod while xio spoke and they made a challenging balancing act out of hoisting up the dresser, but one point in particular echoed on repeat, tinged with uncertainty: staying put? questions that he'd never ask flooded to the forefront of his mind, the vitriol seeping into xio's tone only making ford grit his teeth against the painful familiarity of how they'd ended things -- but had their relationship ever came to real ending? or had ford just bailed, rather than endure the responsibility of saying goodbye? "look -" a quick jerk had him heaving his end of the dresser up onto the truck bed, grunting from exertion. he moved into xiomara's personal space, trying to take over for her, fingers mistakenly overlapping as he muttered 'here' and 'lemme' unintelligibly before getting a good grip. "i'm just housesitting for a friend," he said, explanation equal parts lie and truth, though it became more false as he continued, "me being here is temporary, y'know? i'm not, like, fuckin'... moving in on your turf, or whatever the fuck you think." one final shove and the dresser clunkily slid back onto the bed. ford's hand dropped to rest on the open tailgate, breathing deep and hard when he turned to look down at xio. "if i'd known you'd be here, i..." his frown came to him slowly, gaze betraying him as his eyes roved around their face, an unignorable pang striking deep in his chest. "why aren't you in new york?"

[tapestr1es]

After narrowly dodging Haru's head, Cordelia leaned back in her seat to get some distance. The last thing she needed was a trip to the ER wine drunk and having missed the most entertaining thing to happen in maple brook in a minute. "Nothing is sacred to anyone anymore." She chided, sounding very much a fifty-six year old woman. "Why vent privately to your friends when you can mine the internet for an endless plethora of false sympathies." Maybe her views on people were a little skewed, maybe she thought everyone was addicted to their phones and their followers and not so much the people around them. But, if anyone could walk her Academy halls and not hear one of her students boasting about being a child influencer, well, she'd pay good money for that. "Am I dressed like a waiter —" The full shock got cut off when she noticed the waiters in black slacks and her dark blue shirt could pass as a black button down in the right lighting. "Shit." She muttered, reexamining her wardrobe and overall life choices while Haru searched for a pitcher. "This better be worth it." Cordelia sighed, taking another sip of her wine and contemplating how she ended up in her current circumstance. Perhaps curiosity did really kill the cat, or whatever. "Well, what do I do if I get caught?" While Cordelia was much more comfortable in her skin than most — she didn't exactly want to get kicked out from one of the nicer places in town.

[bulldose]

haru, quite literally laying across the bar top already, paused his snooping to fully turn his head and look back at cordelia, giving her outfit a judgmental onceover. dark eyes ticked back up to meet her gaze, lips pursing briefly before saying flatly, "you don't want me to answer that." because there was no kind way to say 'you always dress like a waiter,' was there? it was a lesson haru had learned himself as well, early on in his staffing days; avoid slim ties, never wear a vest without a jacket -- simple fashion do's and don'ts for those who gravitated towards a business casual look. turning back to his behind-the-bar rifling, he smiled to himself when cordelia conceded, advising as he heard the click of her glass, "you might wanna down all of that." his efforts proved fruitful, leaning back with a half-full pitcher of ice water in the next minute. haru slid both it and his own untouched water glass towards his friend, already beginning to shrug in reply. the concept of getting caught in the act hadn't crossed his mind at all, but perhaps that was because his participation was limited to being the mastermind on the sidelines. "i'll keep an eye out for their actual waiter," he promised, glancing back to the stressed couple across the restaurant. now... what had their waiter looked like? were they blonde or brunette? a he, she, or they? okay, so maybe haru wouldn't be the best lookout, but he could still provide moral support! "we can have a bailout signal. like a hand gesture or a sound," he began brainstorming, swiveling in cordelia's direction again. "do you know the theme from three's company? i'll sing it." if there was any doubt at all that haru was inebriated, that offer right there should've cleared it up.

[whiskeyneats]

"i've never actually been to a fair." angelo admits, shrugging. his family had not been the type to go to the la county fair growing up, and he had his friends hadn't taken an interest either. now grown and in a new town with a new life, angelo was trying to get out and participate in the town's events, even if they weren't all successful. deep fried oreos seemed to be the right move though, eyeing the treat for a moment before he takes a bite, chewing slowly. "pretty good." he agrees, offering the bag out to ford. "you want one?" finishing the oreo he had started, angelo looks around, taking in all of the other deep fried options. "yeah, no kiddig. i mean, some stuff i get...but do people really actually eat deep fried butter balls? and if they do, why?"

[bulldose]

"- the fuck?" very real alarm colored ford's features as he did a literal double take, staring at angelo like he'd just sprouted a second head. "but, dude, you're like... fifty. how?" okay, ford knew that he wasn't that old, but still! it sold his point a little better to exaggerate. a scoffing exhale of judgment burst from ford's lips as he shook his head a few times over, still reaching out to take an offered oreo as he did so. "better late than never, i suppose... but that means you really gotta try deep fried pickles. c'mon." a knock to the other's shoulder and ford was off, continuing his meandering walk down the rows of food stalls, expecting angelo to follow along. popping the oreo whole in his mouth, a fist rose as he chewed and answered at the same time, "death by high cholesterol -- doesn't sound like a sweet way to go to you?" a slant of a smile cut across his lips as ford glanced over.

[blcssomfully]

" hours you say? oh gosh--how could i have made you wait that long? i must have forgotten the time, " rebekah gasped dramatically, playing along with his theatrics as she checked on her watch before shaking her head in mock despair. " you are far too king to forgive my terrible crimes. truly, " the blonde continued, as she placed a hand over her chest, pretending to clutch it before she was reaching over for the brand new tennis racquet ford was offering to her. her eyes sparkled into genuine curiosity as she twirled it a little in her grip, testing its weight. " not bad-- " she admitted before adjusting her stance to give it a playful swing that made her blonde ponytail swish behind her. " did you pick this out yourself or did that pretty salewoman in the store picked it for you? either way, we'll only know if it's a match for you once i start showing you how it's really done. come on, " bekah urged her with a grin as she handed the racquet back to him before stepping towards the court. / @bulldose

[bulldose]

"am i that predictable?" he asked, taking on a tone of mock offense while plucking the racquet back. ford knew he was just that predictable, though, as easy to read as an open book when it came to a pretty face and the possibility of getting free stuff, but who could blame him? it was the little things that made life worthwhile. "she tried to talk me into buying a whole new wardrobe," he said, racquet once again waved in rebekah's direction before spinning it in his grip, fingers flexing and testing the weight while they headed off for their reserved court. "but i nipped that right in the bud... said maybe i'd be back if i could kick your ass." ford's grin sprang back as he playfully smacked the blonde's backside with his racquet. he laughed and leapt forward a few steps, opening the gate into the court and gesturing her in ahead. "i shall follow your every instruction, oh wise one," he promised solemnly, expression sobering as he spoke.

[porphyros]

                              so not only vivienne allowed this boy to make her house a fraternity charter, effectively bringing down the value of the street, she also got him a pass to the country club? evelyn makes a note to have a look to deveraux's finger next time she's in town, just in case the woman has accepted another shady proposal, only this time one made with a ring pop. "it is a pastime as enjoyable as any other. have you been holding your end of the bargain of the gossip mill?" with what, she couldn't guess. she knows nothing about the boy and can't begin to guess where he's from or what he really does other than be a pretty thing on vivienne's arm and an annoyance next door. and she certainly hadn't seen him in silverpond, or she'd have found a way to cut his membership on some ground (she should also remember to have leonardo scan through the membership agreement, just so she can find the perfect reason to get rid of ford without a last name).

then before she can utter anything, she is left gobsmacked, shades in hand, free hand on her hip as she watches the boy act out his perfect impression of a monkey as he goes up leonardo's tree. there is something impressive there, but evelyn refuses to give him that, and tries to fix the surprise on her face in the next moment. the mention of a lawsuit further snaps her back to reality and she exhales a scoff, unable to conceal her annoyance at last. "this tree was brought from another garden across the state lines. if you fall down and break a branch, i'm sure it will be my lawyer fiancee who will be going after you for ruining his child." gesturing towards him with the hand that holds his sunglasses, she urges him down. "try to see where else your stuff is from that high, then come down. carefully, for both our sakes."

[bulldose]

his smile didn't dim an ounce, not even as he watched that peeved expression wrinkle evelyn's perfectly poised features. "i'm just fucking with you!" he hollered back, belatedly rethinking his choice to drop an f-bomb while in mixed company. oh, well -- too late now! really, though, ford, with all of his disastrous overconfidence, was convinced that nothing could possibly go wrong. even if he did slip and take a tumble - which he wouldn't! - he was totally certain that he'd do some kind of sick backflip and land on his feet, unharmed. that internal assurance had him stretching an arm to the spindly end of a branch where the beach ball was perched, calling out, "catch!" right as he batted it down to evelyn. after, ford dared to ascend further, climbing up another tree limb to use the higher vantage point to scan the yard as she'd instructed. he'd already spent plenty of evenings mystified by the expanse of vivienne's home and grounds, and again, he found himself startled as he tried to reorient himself and look along the line of the fence. never in his life did he think he'd wind up somewhere like this. not when he was couch surfing in new york city, shuffling between shoebox-sized apartments, and definitely not when he and his kid siblings had grown up in the care of his solo-parenting dad, the whole lot of them just so fucking --

"got it!" he pulled off a funny skittering maneuver as he made his way back down the tree, punctuated with a very monkey-like swing off a lower branch, dangling briefly before flying free and landing with a thud! in front of evelyn. "pool floatie, 12-o'clock." except it was not at all in that direction. maybe he couldn't read analog clocks. he saluted, marching back to scoop up his flip-flops before walking towards the pool. the pineapple inflatable had wound up wedged between the fence bordering their properties and a row of neatly maintained bushes, just the yellow plastic shining between leaves. "are you and vivienne friends?" ford asked with a glance. "i mean, are you close? more than neighbors? she hasn't really talked about you much..." but did that really say anything when he remained an outlier in vivienne's social circle, her friends relatively unknown to him? that was a thread he was better off not tugging.

[crestfcllens]

“the roster, ford?” zayaan scoffed, wrapping an arm around ford’s shoulders and tugging him close to his side, the scent of alcohol thick in the air between them. “when will we make an honest man outta you? who is it going to take to tame this wild beast?” he emphasized his question with a series of jabs to ford’s side. zayaan could easily see how people nearly tripped at ford’s feet. he was charming, effortlessly handsome, and he had a way of making people feel as if they were the only person in the world (even though he did, in fact, have a roster.) brown eyes were lit with amusement as they landed on that lopsided smile of ford’s. “of course i want you to call me,” a playful pout, “i don’t want you to meet an alien out there…one who takes my spot in your life. i’d be utterly heartbroken.” zayaan laid a hand over his chest as a smile cracked through his pout. he was not at all prepared for the onslaught of tickles from ford and he wriggled with a squeal before gently taking ford’s wrists and flipping him over in a fluid motion. ford was now on his back at zayaan’s mercy as zayaan hovered over him. “i think,” he said, catching his breath between laughter before he ran his hands up and down ford’s waist and leaving tickles in their wake, “you forget how strong i am.” a few more tickles for good measure and he rolled back onto the grass, blissfully breathless. “taunt me all you want, young grasshopper,” the words fell from zayaan’s lips through a laugh, “but with age comes wisdom, yeah? so, by that logic i’m stronger and smarter than you.” zayn hated remembering his youth had slipped through his fingers, but as they laid under the night sky in a fit of giggles, he couldn’t help but feel young and carefree again and zayaan would hold onto this night with a white-knuckled grip if only to avoid reality. the night that wrapped around them like a secret, only for them to know. his gaze followed ford’s, up to the sky and he sighed softly, “sometimes i think people are like constellations, y’know? beautiful…unique…but so damn hard to understand.”

[bulldose]

his thoughts had slid sideways, as one tended to do while under the influence, mind suddenly full of extraterrestrial wonderings that'd never amount to anything substantial. but it felt serious in the here and now, ford's forehead wrinkling as he glared up at the big, open sky, contemplating his history of doubting the possibility of life beyond earth. he was about to say as much, too, pursed lips just beginning to part before zayaan pounced. his exacted revenge was swift and unexpected, jarring enough to knock the wind out of him as he was flipped onto his back, left splayed beneath his friend's body weight on the dewy grass. slowly, everything melted to molasses around them, and ford's mind began to stray in a very different direction... there was no time at all to catch up with the hands skimming along his ribs, a ticklish jolt zapping through him, making ford squirm. "dude!" he crowed, like he hadn't just done the same thing to zayaan seconds earlier, a choked-off giggle that he couldn't restrain spilling free in the next moment. he knew that he was already flushed from drinking, but the color deepened and spread, crawling beneath the collar of his shirt to warm his chest as they wrestled. only once zayaan collapsed into his fit of laughter did ford manage to snark back, "and here i thought you had a healthy ego, all this braggin' and shit." he exhaled a 'tch' of a breath through his teeth, grinning because he just couldn't help it as he looked over at the other. "you're no better than me." except that he really did think zayaan was, in many ways, and he was willing to argue it, too.

each catching their breath, the brief silence they lapsed into was pleasant, but not long for this world -- neither had ever been very good at shutting up around each other. it was zayaan's answering musing that had ford's blue eyes sliding back to his friend, admiring the profile of his face for a few beats. "that's... really corny, bro." the snort ford let out was almost theatrical -- performative, in its own right, a part of him struggling to combat zayaan's unyielding sincerity that was blinding, always, but even more so now, as they laid side-by-side in the quiet dark of night. if they managed to stay quiet for more than a minute, ford was almost certain he could've tricked himself into believing they were already in the vacuum of space. "don't tell me that's one of your chat-up lines," he teased with a needling elbow. "i'm flattered, honest, but if a chick had just said what i said to you to me" -- a confusing riddle of a sentence there, sloppy on his drunken tongue and heavy with heteronormativity, because it still did rule ford's life to an extent, even as he barreled on -- "i would take it as a golden opportunity. i'd say, 'well, there's an easy one to spot. it's just right up there. look!'" he wiggled impossibly closer, shoulders already sealed together and now overlapping some while he extended a hand and pointed for the sky. "it's right there. you see how that group of stars sorta... lines up." but there was no constellation. of course, not! because ford had just said he was clueless about astrology - wait, astronomy? - but it was a very nice excuse to be close. closer, head tilting and nudging their temples together, as if attempting to share a twin eyeline with zayaan while coaching him ('see? you'll see it!'), finger swishing in a graceful curve. somewhere along the way, ford stopped looking at stars that didn't exist. his gaze was on zayaan again, watching him as he watched the night sky. "and now," he began again, voice softer and quieter, "while you're distracted... it's so much easier for me to do this..." slowly, he used the leverage of an elbow to boost himself up, just enough so he could duck down and close the miniscule gap between them, sealing their lips together in a warm kiss. his hanging hand fell from the stars, touch featherlight along zayaan's jaw. there was that electric jolt again, making a part of ford feel as if he was being propelled by a personal dare, caution driven out as his fingers curled, attempting to draw the other nearer still.