spark. vivienne understood that better than most. under ordinary circumstances , she would have met it with practiced indifference , a clipped remark or a graceful retreat behind walls so old even she no longer remembered building them. vulnerability had never suited her. it wrinkled too easily. but she was tired. “ don’t say that , ” she murmured, the words scarcely louder than the breeze passing between them. there was no bite to them , no polished authority , only something painfully human. her voice had been stripped of its usual grandeur until all that remained was viv — not vivienne langford, not the mayor’s wife , not the woman who commanded rooms simply by entering them , but the frightened girl who had spent a lifetime pretending she could never be left behind. she drew in a careful breath and let it out just as slowly , giving herself longer than necessary to gather the pieces back together. she always managed. she always had. thank god for the sunglasses. her eyes had betrayed her since childhood , forever announcing grief before her mouth could deny it.
“ they have their own lives , conrad , ” she said at last, forcing the corners of her mouth into something that almost resembled composure. “ one is a modern , independent woman who hardly needs anyone for anything. ” there was pride hidden somewhere beneath the melancholy , though it struggled to surface. “ and the other … ” her sentence dissolved before she could finish it. she looked down at her hands instead.
“ with his … ” the word caught in her throat , stubborn as a splinter. she had avoided saying it for months , as though refusing to name it might somehow keep it from becoming real. “ his fiancée , i presume. ” silence settled around them. “ it’s remarkable , really , ” vivienne continued with a brittle smile. “ you spend years teaching someone to stand on their own two feet , encouraging them to chase happiness wherever it leads … ” she gave a faint laugh , one that sounded more exhausted than amused. “ and then one day they do exactly that , and you find yourself wishing they’d learned a little more slowly. ” her fingers worried absentmindedly at the cuff of her sleeve. “ i used to know where i fit in his life. ” the confession came quietly. “ it was never something i questioned. if something wonderful happened , he called me. if something terrible happened , he came home. i knew the sound of his footsteps before he even opened the front door. ” she swallowed.
“ now i catch myself wondering whether he’ll call her first. ” the thought seemed to shame her even as she spoke it. “ isn’t that ridiculous ? ” vivienne asked, though she didn’t wait for an answer. “ to be jealous of time itself. not of the girl , not really … ” her voice softened further. “ just of the hours that belong to someone else now. birthdays that won’t be mine. sunday mornings that won’t begin in our kitchen. holidays where i’ll have to ask instead of expect. ” for the first time , her shoulders sagged. “ i’m not afraid he’ll stop loving me , conrad. ”
a long pause.
“ i’m afraid one day he’ll simply stop needing me. ”
for once , conrad doesn't have an answer . he gives her a tight - lipped smile in resignation . “ well . . . that's life . don't hafta' like it , don't even hafta' understand it . but it keeps on happenin' anyhow . ” like the market — while they take a moment , the buzz continues : a vendor laughs , a child shrieks , a lanky teenager busks . his eyes settle on a family passing by , a young girl sat atop her father's shoulders . she's giggling about something , blue ice cream smeared across her face and t-shirt , her father smiling as large hands wrap protectively around tiny calves . conrad finds himself watching longer than necessary .
of course he's happy for his children , both respectable young people able to stand on their own independent from the family name . but it doesn't make it hurt any less . he understands vivienne's attachment , remembers her before this performance , before she'd become the matriarchal pillar of the community . he thinks back to their own wedding ceremony , both parties resigned to a fate that was written into their stories long before they existed , married yet barely old enough to drink . underneath the glamor she's still the bright - eyed girl he'd kissed at the altar , but the decades had blessed her with much more to lose .
conrad also recognizes she's not just talking about beau . not really . she's talking about someone else who never got married , never moved into the next phase , never created a new life that would naturally pull him away . instead he disappeared all at once , leaving beau to bear a heavy crown where every milestone carries conflict for the family : relief that he's alive and building a future , and grief that their eldest had never gotten the chance .
" sweetheart , " he begins , taking her nervous hand from the sleeve she threatened to tear into shreds , " that's kinda' the point , ain't it , honey ? " his voice is gentle , broaching a subject that needs to be handled delicately . " he's s'posed t' call her first . " a pause . " same way i was s'posed to call you . you wouldn't want me callin' my mama before you , now would you ? "
" . . . if somethin' bad happens, i hope he reaches for her . if somethin' wonderful happens , i hope she's the first person he wants to tell . . . that's what marriage is . " he pauses , squeezes her hand . " that don't mean 'yer losin' him forever . hell , a man never stops needin' his mama . . . just means ya' raised him good enough t' know when it's time to be a man n' build somethin' of his own . "
the words settled between them . to ease his discomfort conrad looks toward the crowd , nodding politely towards passersby , mumbling ' g'mornin's ' as folks pass . “ truth be told , i don't mind that girl . “ a faint smile tugs at his mouth . “ she don't seem too impressed by money , or title . . . lord knows she ain't too impressed by beau , neither . “ the joke is deliberate but gentle . his gaze finds hers again , expression softening . his hands travel up her arms , coming to rest just below her shoulders . “ it's good for him , bein' with a girl who don't give a rat's ass about him . ” not him , of course , but the persona — the character the langford men played . " he's got a good head on his shoulders , viv . we spent all those years teachin' 'em right from wrong , t' think for themselves , " shoulders lift in a small shrug , " seems unfair t' start doubtin' his judgement now that he's finally got the wherewithal to use it . "
conrad can hear his name being called somewhere in the distance , but pretends that he can't hear it long enough to be able to wrap up this tender moment . " we're gettin' t' watch him build a life , sweetheart , " he releases her from his hold , clearing his throat and placing a peck of a kiss to her cheek , " that's a blessing . "
and before he can say anything else , a hand is clapped hard onto his shoulder , turning to find a rotund man he golfed with once in a blue moon and his tiny sprig of a wife , a woman conrad thought might have double the teeth of any regular person . " mr . n' mrs . randolph , " the langford charm snaps back into place instantly , his and viv's tender moment blown away with the breeze , " good t' see you both . how's your grandson settlin' in at vanderbilt ? "
░ ☆ closed starter : aria eden - west . ( @lovehards )
⤷ 𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗹𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘁𝗼𝘄𝗲𝗿 , 𝘁𝘂𝗲𝘀𝗱𝗮𝘆 𝗮𝗳𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗻𝗼𝗼𝗻 .
rubbing at scratchy eyes , brooks accepts that he's been bested by an email , yet again . he thinks what he's reading has something to do with a poorly - worded clause , but the harder he tries to read it , the more the letters swap places until he may as well be trying to crack the enigma code . he despises when his body refuses to do what his brain demands , expects it to operate at full capacity despite being subject to minimal sleep , limited nutrients , high stress , and a whole lot of substances . staring at the ceiling , fingers drum across his thigh while his mind wanders , trying to develop an excuse to go bother the cute magazine editor a couple floors away . perhaps telepathy does exist , because his phone buzzes with a message from exactly the person he wants to see . ' don't u want to come kiss me ' — he smiles . suddenly he can read just fine !
brooks stands , suit jacket abandoned hours ago with sleeves rolled halfway up forearms , and mumbles something to his assistant about rescheduling something . before he knows it , he's collecting a bounty : a black americano for himself , alongside an iced strawberry matcha , another with oat milk ( just in case ) , an iced vanilla latte , and a hot one . he thinks she prefers iced drinks , but covers his bases nonetheless . two croissants , one plain and one almond , are shoved into his pocket . like a dog following it's favorite scent , he finds his way to her office . a few staff offer distracted nods as he passes , but he's around so often it's like he's not worth acknowledging anymore , knows his way around without direction .
he finds her door half - open and nudges it wider with his shoulder . “ delivery for a . . . ms . eden - west - copeland ? " his voice is gruff , worn from exhaustion thinly veiled with stimulant use . brooks leans against the doorframe looking at her , like some part of him is fighting to get upstairs , but it's hopeless : with one text , she's managed to rearrange his entire afternoon . accepting defeat , brooks glances over his shoulder and quietly shuts the door behind him .
" you don't have to lure me down here , y'know . . . " he tells her , meandering slowly towards her desk , lower lip catching between teeth at the sight of her . sure , she looked beautiful as always , but behind a desk with her name on it , in a position of power ? maybe he was a dog , after all . " . . . i was already looking for an excuse to come see you . " he sets down the tray on her desk , gaze betraying him by quickly flicking down the front of her top . calloused fingertips catch her jaw and tilt her face upward , large frame all but bending in half to kiss her , unexpectedly tender . " hi , " he smiles , pressing several more quick kisses to her lips before pulling away . he takes his own drink and begins to move around the desk , removing a zyn from his upper lip and dropping it lazily into her wastebin . " too many names , by the way — " he references his entrance , flopping down into a seat across from her , " you should just knock off the first two n' keep the last one . "
the dining room had emptied in stages , as it always had . the remains of sunday dinner sat between them : half - empty glasses , cloth napkins in various states , several crumbled pieces of cornbread . the women had disappeared down the hall to fix coffee , leaving beau and his father sat at the antique hardwood dining table , a comfortable silence between them . " well . . . " conrad sighs eventually , folding his hand across his stomach , " that didn't go too bad , did it ? " even though he'd tried to play dumb , the tension in the room during dinner was so thick one could've cut it with a spoon . he tried to mind his business , believed in taking his wife's side over anyone else , no matter who's in the right . that's the way it should be , conrad believes : unity between spouses . no matter if one is in the wrong . as such , rather than to blatantly defy his wife feelings , conrad had decided to take a different approach towards the obvious staleness in the air : he'd had asked amara about her career , praising her accomplishments and complimenting difficult decisions she'd made with quiet stoicism . he'd asked her expertise on town business , omitting that the problems he sought her advice on had been solved weeks ago . layups , he'd once heard someone say . an attempt to quietly build up the young woman's character under the guise of curiosity .
" your mama's got a lot of wonderful qualities , " he nods , leaning back in his chair , " . . . but subtlety ain't one of 'em . " the death of their eldest son had hit them differently , and where conrad had withdrawn , vivienne had sought to hold on tighter . now he fears he'd withdrawn too far ; looking over at beau , he wonders again where the time had gone between the shy sprout of a boy and the charming , successful , engaged man that now sat beside him . " y'know , when i was 'yer age , i had two kids n' a mortgage . . . n' probably less hair , too . " not a judgemental statement ; simply . . . a statement . a reminder that beau's had options that hadn't been afforded to him and his mother . choices . he takes a sharp breath in , like he's on the verge of saying something before changing his mind , and instead gives beau a tight smile . " y'done good , son . she's smarter ‘n you , that's 'fer damn sure . . . so don't go gettin' too comfortable . " he's kidding , but there's an underbelly to it : a warning . don't fuck it up . " word of advice ? ' yes , darlin' ' is the correct answer to everything . "
conrad gets up slowly , grimacing like merely standing up pains him , crossing the room to pour the pair of them a couple fingers of scotch from the sideboard across from beau . he glances quickly over his shoulder toward the doorway , checking that they were still alone , like he knows the topic is too touchy to broach within earshot of certain people . " how's the weddin' plannin' comin' along ? " conrad clears his throat , frowning down at the crystal glassware . he knew this day would come , that beau would eventually get his act together and find a decent - enough girl to marry . but the ache of what should have been , who should have been the first , didn't seem to have gotten any less sharp . " y'involved 'yer mama or camille at all ? women don't take kindly t' be left out of things like that . "
the bonfire night represented everything silver had come to appreciate about small town texas : delicious scents wafting from food stalls serving everything from barbecue to snow cones , a band crooning some song locals seemed to know but that silver didn't recognize whatsoever , children running through the walkways , shouting at one another about needing to buy more tickets for the games . it was beautiful , the way the entire town seemed to show out for such an event ; but it also made silver feel unsettingly lonely . a deep yearning for something just out of reach . . .
she'd ordered something called a turkey leg , and had agreed readily when asked if she wanted it ' texas - style ' , unsure what that meant but looking forward to finding out . but now here she was , half an hour later , with a turkey leg the size of an entire roast chicken gripped in fist , making her feel more like a caveman with a club than a southern belle . she needed to get rid of this thing . spotting the first familiar face , silver speaks up. " oh , thank god ! will you please help me with this ? it's supposedly a turkey leg — texas - sized , obviously — but i've never seen a turkey with legs this big . " she holds up the snack , larger than her head . " i can't eat anymore , but i can't bear to waste it . please ? i'll even buy you a drink if you take it off my hands . i'm begging . "
HE WALKED RIGHT INTO THAT ONE. the mayor was quick with it, all politicians had to be. imagine conrad langford getting caught dead letting some sunday slacker patronize him for his height without a swift rebuttal—you couldn’t. julian was firmly reminded of this by the strong hand on his shoulder, and he flinched at the contact, straightening his posture to recover. “heard about that, huh?” uttered sheepishly through gritted teeth and wondered how it even came up in conversation, or how much the mayor knew. surely, with his divorce and his pending nuptials and the company’s plans for the second quarter, there were more important, more interesting things for his father to talk about during a game of golf with the mayor than his son’s indiscretions. old news. if they were going to discuss their children, the mayor’s son—either the dead one or the one getting married—would’ve been a more productive topic. “better than humpty dumpty, i’ll tell you that.” he chuckled nervously, had to poke fun at himself for the sake of being ironic. shame was a rare emotion for julian, but the mayor had caught him so off guard, the discomfort felt like wearing loose skin that refused to cling to his flesh. shame simply didn't suit him. "but yeah, 'm fine. i'm like a weeble. you know... weebles wobble, but they don't fall down," sang the old commercial from distant memory, trailed off as his attention was pulled towards one of the stalls they were approaching. "hey, look-" practically skipped towards the crates, relieved at the opportunity to shift the focus away from himself. "aren't you, like, a big vinyl head?" he remembered his dad once got the mayor a rare record for his birthday, had it shipped all the way from germany, too. the things his family did to remain in the langfords' good graces. "got any recommendations? been thinkin' 'bout startin' a collection myself."
conrad nods , equal parts knowing and empathetic . conrad knew firsthand that small town folks liked to talk : about themselves , each other , the gossip , the news . . . anything . lucky for him , he was more of a listener than a talker , so he'd ingested a rolodex of information on the town's citizens , julian included . he'd known him and his siblings for years , his father being something of a friend ( as much as business allies can be considered friends ) , and conrad empathized with the family on julian's woes perhaps more than he should . julian's shrunken , bashful stature , like can't muster up a poker face displaying how fine — how weeble - like , in his own words — he is , makes conrad's heart squeeze . only slightly , though ; only as much as a father can empathize with someone's son . only as much as he can before remembering the immense privilege julian has , squandering a future of opportunity for . . . whatever he was up to .
he humors him , following the young man towards the records and thumbing lazily through a milk crate bin labeled ' americana ' . " well , it depends . you tryna' impress people , or you tryna' enjoy yourself ? " he glances sideways at julian before returning his gaze to the records , " 'cause those'r two diff'rent collections . " he pulls out a record sleeve , some nobody of yesteryear , eyeing it briefly and placing it back in the milk crate . " i s'pose y'oughta start with somethin' y'actually listen to . biggest mistake is buyin' records you think you're s'posed to own . like pretendin' t'be one thing when 'yer another entirely . "
silver greets them at the door , clad in worn overalls and dirty barefeet , a smiling golden retriever bounding out to greet the crew . the home from the outside doesn't necessarily stand apart from its neighbors , but step inside and one might question if they're really still in willow glen . the home smells of earthy incense , eyes immediately attacked by a myriad of bright colors , mismatched textures , one - of - a - kind pieces , and eccletic art . as if someone had dropped an arts and crafts kit into a house and it turned into . . . this .
" i live in magnolia ridge ! it's just really quaint and cute . i like how texas it feels . like i just plopped onto a hallmark set . i like knowing my neighbors , chatting with them on the around - the - block dog walk , kids playing on the street , lemonade stands . . . it feels very suburban , in the way that i'm trying to manifest this life for myself , y'know ? maybe that's kinda' stupid , " a self - conscious laugh , a hand waved dismissively through the air , " but i'd really love that for myself one day : kids , cul de sac , the whole nine yards . i guess i've stayed because i can just daydream about the future here . i will say , though — the only thing i dislike are the front lawns . i'd love to just plant a pollinator garden and let it grow wild across the front but i think the hoa wouldn't approve . grass lawns just aren't great , ecologically , so that's my only qualm . "
" well . . . after my divorce i wasn't really attached to anything , which sounds freeing but is really quite . . . unsettling . so this place has kind of just become me in home form — i gutted the place and built the home of my dreams . i love lots of colour , funky tiles , mixing textures , doing things that are unexpected but somehow work . . . oh ! and my garden . it's truly my pride and joy . . . " silver opens the sliding deck door to the backyard , revealing the overflowing garden of produce , tall flowers , climbing vines , butterflies . " this garden has become my own lil' slice of eden , i feel like . it's been a great project to sink my energy into . "
" i'm always looking to work on the garden . i'd like to have chickens someday , but building the coop seems like a really big task . i know i could hire someone to do it , but i like doing things myself . and i'd also really like to declutter my garage — it's kind of turned into a dumping ground storage room . and then i'd also really like to turn my office into a room i actually use — it's also just full of work boxes , and i usually find myself working at the dining table or on the couch because that room scares me . so , order of home improvement events : one ? organize office . two ? declutter garage . three ? chickens . it's like a reward . . ."
" you know what ? i actually have a playlist about that . . . " silver pulls her phone from her back pocket , opening spotify immediately . " there are some good songs on here . you know that norah jones album , the one with ‘ sunrise ‘ on it ? that album is literally called ‘ feels like home ’ ! how perfect , right ? that whole album is on here . uh . . . frazey ford , a bunch of sade , the entirety of ' rubber soul ' by the beatles is on here . . . " it occurs to her suddenly that perhaps courtney and the audience don't care as much as she does about the playlist , head whipping up as a blush creeps across her cheeks . " i don't know , just — songs . there's always music playing in here , otherwise it's too quiet . "
𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭’𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐱 𝐢𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞 ?
" oh , that's easy — on the back deck ! i bought an overpriced patio furniture set when i first moved here — i think it was the first thing i bought for this home , actually — and now i spend a lot of time out there . it's just nice to look at the plants , watch goldie play in the grass , hear the birds , watch the sunset behind those hills . . . i bought this place specifically because the back is west - facing . yeah , i get a lot of joy from being out here . it's my favorite place in the world . "
𝐝𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐟𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐬 𝐨𝐫 𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐩𝐚𝐩𝐞𝐫 ?
" i like painted walls more , but i actually prefer tile or wood or . . . more textural stuff . like , why not just go kind of crazy and do something unexpected ? i don't have anything against wallpaper , but i just wouldn't ever reach for it . "
" bold of you to assume my closet is organized . " a bashful laugh , a stray hair tucked behind ear . " no , i don't really have any rhyme or reason to it . truth is , it's not organized at all ! shoes go in one corner in a pile , jeans get half - folded and shoved in the drawer , hanging things get hung and shoved onto the rack . . . you're making me realize i should probably do a closet clean - out ! i have a bunch of clothes i used to wear for , like , events i used to go to . . . but i don't go to those anymore . it's been ages since i even put on a pair of heels . "
winter didn't want to burden him with her issues . they were hers to deal with , he just provided her a way to get rid of them for a while . ❝ i have . just been working and not doing much of nothing . i don't have such an exciting life as one brooks copeland . ❞ she watches him as his weight shifts to have him lean against the marble , arms crossing over her chest . ❝ you don't want my money ? that's a first . but whatever , i'm not gonna argue . wasn't planning on it . need it for some upcoming shit .❞ hand grips the baggie , sticking in her backpack as his gaze scans her briefly . as he asks her what's going on , she sighs . the topic nearly brought her down , the drugs would bring her up . ❝ it's coming up on my mom's death anniversary , okay ? it gets really somber in my house and dad hovers a lot more than usual . i just need to block out all the shit , cool ? i need to feel nothing= . ❞
brooks shrugs , not totally buying it but backing off anyway . his life wasn't particularly exciting , and he figured winter knew that , too — that she was telling him to stop prying . he laughs a short sound at her surprise , wondering if perhaps his career had started to precede his character , that people saw him as a banker first and a human second . " i don't need your money , " he simply states with another bored shrug , knowing that it'd go further in her pocket than his . now he really knows he should've stopped prying : the mention of the tragedy has brooks offering the sort of smile people wear when they don't know what else to do . " damn . . . " he states . " that's fucked up , i'm sorry . " what else can he say ? he's debating offering her something else , something he'd use in her scenario rather than her current pick , but refrains . coke is relatively harmless , he tells himself to ease guilt . " yeah — no , i hear 'ya , " he agrees , hands raising non - judgementally . he's desperate to steer the conversation away , having accidentally stepped into a topic he wasn't prepared to broach . " i hear there's a decades thing at one of the clubs this weekend . you gonna go to that ? "
location : amber lounge
for : @coyotetm - dealer's choice
" that your mate ? " he tips his head to the person next to him , gesturing ahead of them . " got to be you they're wavin' at , s'definitely not me . " this is a lie . some fine - mannered bible thumper he'd run into on his fridge run who's desperate to help him find jesus . something about him seems as if it needs divine intervention and the fact that his last name is devlin hasn't helped. " refill ? " he asks helpfully , waving the bartender over.
brooks lazily follows cade's gaze , eyes connecting with someone who clearly isn't looking at him , but takes in their appearance nonetheless . brooks isn't unfamiliar with their kind , someone so desperate to spread the good word that they're willing to overlook the obvious discomfort they push onto others . brooks motions towards his ear , making a face that says ' sorry , can't hear you ! ' and turns away from the person in question . " nah , don't know 'em , " he shrugs , not too interested in getting to know them , either . he smirks , wondering what cade had stirred up to incur the fanatic's wrath . " what'd you do ? they're clearly lookin' at you , man , not me , " raises hands innocently .
𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐲𝐨𝐫𝐚𝐥 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 , 𝟕:𝟓𝟒𝐩𝐦 : it seemed like he'd blinked and twenty five years had passed . suddenly the kids were all grown up , with successful careers and a wedding on the horizon . he'd looked away for a minute and they'd grown up , like one minute he'd been their daddy and the next . . . they didn't need him anymore . it's a painful realization , and one he'll only indulge himself in exploring here : on the back porch , overlooking the pond after supper once the cicadas have started to sing . a creaky rocking chair joins their song , wedding ring clinking against a rocks glass half - emptied of a high - end scotch . a yellow lab is splayed out across the wooden deck , kicking in his sleep as though he too is running towards something that only exists in his dreams .
the screen door creaks open , and conrad looks over to find camille , a loving smile breaking his formerly solemn features . " hey , kiddo . " he gestures toward the empty chair beside him , " come sit with your old man a minute . " conrad's gaze scans over camille for a moment , like he can't quite believe his eyes . he tsks , gaze drifting back toward the pond , " seems like just yesterday i was teachin' you how to ride a bike , n' now you're out there buildin' a whole life of yer' own . " he takes a long , slow sip of his drink , foot tapping gently upon the wooden floor as he rocks , " guess that's just life . anyway , talk to me — what's goin' on in your world ? "
she listens to the rest of his words before clicking the phone off and made her way to the door , knocking lightly on the wood . he opens the door , standing there almost regal like as he steps aside , allowing her to enter . the femme follows behind as he leads her to the kitchen , his items lined up on the kitchen island . eyes scan the baggies , fingertips brushing along them as her mind tries to hone in on what she wants needs . ❝ it's uh , been a few years , yeah . ❞ winter states , picking up one of the baggies of what looked like coke at the end of the row . ❝ oh you know me , just been around . . . ❞ she states before holding up the bag . ❝ how much for this ? i got forty bucks on hand but i could venmo you or whatever for the rest . ❞ femme asks , turning towards him with the bag . ❝ dude , please . i'm begging here . i'll literally do anything . just hook me up . ❞ brooks didn't need to know why she needs it . he just needs to help her out .
her reluctance to answer his questions with anything worthwhile saying quietly strikes a nerve inside him , like he's also being shut out from whatever she's running from facing . he's not one to judge , anyway , but he's still curious enough to want to be in other people's business . " just . . . been around , " he repeats her statement , mimicking her tone , like he sees right through it . " that's all ? you just been around ? that's . . . really exciting and cool , " he mocks , drumming fingers listlessly upon the marble . he raises a hand to stop her , shifting his weight to lean a hip against the surface . " i said don't worry about it , " he reminds her , folding arms across his chest and studying the girl . " just take it , it's fine . but don't do all that tonight , i don't want to be liable for any . . . undesired side effects . " he pauses a moment , eyes scanning winter up and down . " actually , forget the money — just tell me : what're you so cut up about ? i'm not going to tell anyone , promise . it's just that this . . . desperation doesn't exactly instill confidence that i'm not goin' to wake up with drug charges against me . " or worse — brooks knows of her family — big names in small towns tended to be talked about — and he didn't want to take any chances .
open starter: the hideaway, closing time sunday night
closing the bar was honestly nadia’s favorite shift. she could play her favorite song on repeat for hours without someone trying to change it or tell her their wrong opinions about it. the song was blasting and she sat on the bar top counting her tips for the night. just enough to make rent but not pay for utilizes or food which she knows means that she was going to have to do more posting when she got home. she was in her own mind set that she almost didn’t hear the bell above the door indicating someone was coming in. she swore she locked it an hour ago but maybe not. she turned to look at the person walking in. “i am so sorry. we are closed and i must have been the idiot that forgot to lock the door. we should be back open tomorrow morning and if you tell the morning bartender what happened, we’ll get you a free drink on the house. does that sound reasonable?”
silver can't find her keys anywhere . it's a rare occurence that she's be so inattentive to not double check her belongings every five minutes , but by some sick stroke of misfortune , she'd somehow managed to get all the way home in the back of an uber after an awkward dead - end date , only to realize her keys weren't where she thought they were . she'd nearly resigned herself to simply sleeping on the porch overnight , or bashfully texting a friend if she could sleep on their couch . but , in an attempt to practice independence , she figured she'd do the responsible thing and retrace her steps . the hideaway certainly wasn't her favorite venue , especially if one cares to talk to their date when first meeting them , and the key saga had all but confirmed her distaste for the place . peering through the window she spots the lone person inside , a wash of gratitude as she finds the door unlocked . " oh , no , i — " she starts , but the other is too quick . silver shakes her head , eyes scanning aroud the place . " no , i just think i forgot my keys here . can i just — take a look over there ? " she points towards the sticky booth they'd been plunked into earlier in the night . hand raises apologetically , " sorry to interrupt ! i'm sure you've had a crazy night . it was packed in here , i don't know how you do it ! " a grimace as her shoes make a sickly unsticking sound with every step she takes across the drink - soaked floor .
jason had no business being at the board game event. he looked about as out of place as a grizzly bear at a tea party. somehow he'd ended up crammed into a chair clearly designed for someone significantly smaller , one leg stretched out beneath the table while the other bounced impatiently. a cold beer rested in his hand , the bottle sweating against his palm as he took an occasional sip while staring at the game board in front of him. beside him sat an opened blind box and a tiny bunny figurine he'd won earlier , though he refused to admit he actually thought it was cute. " i still don't understand how this is a game , " he complained , gesturing vaguely with the neck of the bottle. " there's no fighting , no checking, no chance of a concussion. feels kinda soft if you ask me. "
despite the nonstop complaints , he hadn't moved from his seat once. a small collection of snacks , game pieces , and unopened blind boxes had accumulated around him like he'd quietly claimed the corner as his territory. every so often his attention drifted toward the entrance whenever the bell above the door chimed before he quickly looked away , pretending he hadn't been watching. " alright , " he announced , leaning forward and setting his beer on the table as he pointed dramatically at the board. " somebody explain the rules again. but slower this time. i'm serious. use little words. i got hit in the head for a living. "
only two more hours , silver tells herself after glancing at the clock on the wall for the third time in ten minutes . her therapist had challenged her with doing something out of the ordinary this week , and attending a board game night in town , alone ? this was about as out of her comfort zone as it got . she didn't even really care for games , and the edible she'd taken beforehand in attempt to ameliorate the situation wasn't helping : silver kept finding herself zoned out while the game was being explained , and kept having to double check the rules before her turn . now she was distracted by an incessantly bouncing knee in her space , how cold her hands felt from clutching a sweating can of some overly sweet pre - packaged vodka soda , and dreaming about what reality show she was going to watch when she got home . . .
she blinks as the owner of the knee beside her speaks , her daydreaming interrupted . " yeah , i know . i came to board game night expecting physical violence , not . . . plastic figurines . " silver wonders if he's simply grandstanding , attempting to show off how big and strong he is , or if he really thought there might be a full - contact board game . one sidelong glance towards him and she figures it may be the latter . silver shakes her head , disapproving looks from their fellow gamers at his lack of comprehension . " hey , i don't get it either , " she defends him , not quite sure why . she places her drink upon the table , frigid hands clasping together as she leans in to speak to the man , " i had a gummy before this and now i'm just . . . lost . . . just smile and nod and eventually they'll give up on teaching it . that's my strategy , anyway . "
would've been a lie to say she hadn't done it on purpose ⸺ just because she was no stranger to the rules didn't mean she had to follow them . hands grab onto her and she can suddenly feel her heartbeat racing between her thighs , digits wrapped around her throat like a necklace she'd never get tired of wearing . she could've right then , no choice but to be left to the mercy of his touch , eyes squeezed shut as her head pushes back onto the mattress , two fingers slid inside of her like it was nothing . god he drove her crazy when he got like this , teetering dangerously close to an edge she's not quite ready to jump from yet still warmth wraps tight around his fingers , eyes still glossed over as he makes it that much harder to breathe .
" fuck , " word is choked out in barely a whisper , lips attached to the most sensitive part of her neck only making her squeeze around him that much more . she wonders if he can see it in her eyes , how desperate she is , how tightly he has her wrapped around his finger despite the fact that neither of them will ever admit it . she should've known what was coming , so busy looking anywhere but him that she barely even notices his head dipping between her legs until tongue flicks straight through her center . " brooks . . . " she whines , his head squeezed between each of her thighs as he drowns himself in the taste of her , a hand reaching from the bed to let fingers rake through his hair , tugging hard , anything to keep herself at bay . it's scares her how well he knows her body , the twitch that overcame the insides of her thighs always a dead giveaway that she didn't have much left to give . there's an audible pout that pushes past her lips when he pulls himself away just as heat begins to creep up from the bottom of her spine ⸺ this was her punishment , and right now , he felt like the executioner .
" you're such a fucking prick , " doesn't mean it entirely but god it feels like she does , hard tip of his cock dragged relentlessly slow through her center , entrance trying it's best to catch him despite the way he makes it impossible . " please . . . " doesn't say it nearly loud enough , word itself melting on the tip of her tongue as head of his cock finally pushes itself inside of her . " turn me into a slut . . . " makes sure he can hear it this time , arms hooking through his to let her hands find his back , nails sinking into his skin before they start to drag against it . " i don't wanna think about anything other than your cock inside me . . . please , " was never one to beg but she'd do it for him ⸺ she'd do anything for him .
she doesn't know how much longer she can do this , her head's already started to spin , own hair stuck to her forehead from the sweat , " please , brooks ⸺ fuck , i'll be good , i promise . . . it won't happen again , i promise , " might've been a lie , but it was one worth telling , walls squeezed and released in a rhythm that only grows more sporadic as the time goes on , " please , " agony in her voice is evident , nails digging so deep into his back she was sure they'd leave marks in their wake , can't even bring herself to wait for his permission before she tightens around him completely , spilling onto him and the sheets below as she reaches up just enough to catch his lips with a kiss , forcing him to taste the moan as it leaves her mouth . hips arch up and off of the bed , desperate to feel him as deep inside of her as he could possibly go until she's found herself emptied along his length , his bottom lip taken between hers briefly as she deepens the kiss . " shit . . . " only pulls away when she needs to catch her breath , left lifeless underneath his body , completely willing to be crushed by the weight him , " don't pull out , " she sighs , still tight around the width of him , “ just stay for a second . . . please . “ ⸺ ” i don't want you to leave . ”
the way she's trying so hard , begging him , making promises she definitely won't keep . . . the sound of his name on her tongue is enough to make any man dizzy with arousal , but brooks is beyond that : he's all - consumed , all - in on aria , like the rest of the world doesn't exist and the pair of them have made it to some astral plane . her fingernails scratching into his back drives him even crazier , his pace quickening in response as though he's been here before , and knows that the end is near . " i don't believe you , " he tells her point - blank , voice rough as pace quickens even more , the headboard banging against the wall repeatedly though neither is in the state of mind to even acknowledge it . a hand reaches for her throat , squeezing slightly along the sides so as not to restrict her breathing but to constrict blood flow to her head , a move he knows will make her climax even more euphoric when he eventually chooses to give it to her .
but he doesn't even get to pull out in time before she's finishing , her moan causing a hum to reverberate through his chest . " look at me . " he commands in the midst of her climax , wanting to see with his own eyes the effect he'd had on her , wanting to see how far away she looked from pleasure inflicted by him . he can feel her clenching along his length , muscles contracting around him as he pushes himself fully inside of her , his head pressed against her cervix deep inside . if there was anywhere left to go inside of her , brooks wanted to be there , wanted every single cell in her body to know his touch and to react to it .
aria slows , and he kisses her hard , a near physical representation of three words he'd been scarily close to uttering . he begins to pull out , wincing slightly at the sensitivity , but pauses . her request catches him off guard , so intimate and vulnerable , like she's desperately afraid of losing something . his brow furrows but he stays inside her nonetheless , gently lowering himself on top of her as he braces the majority of his weight upon his forearms . he exhales slowly , as though coming down from a euphoria he wasn't ready to let end . " leave ? " he questions , confused by the statement . his initial thought is that they're at his place , where would he leave to ? but slowly his emotional mind catches up , remembering how disappointed she becomes when he doesn't show up for her , which happens more frequently than he'd like to admit . his eyes swiftly take in the time from the watch he hadn't been in the right state of mind to remove — twenty to five — and remembers suddenly that he'd promised her they'd take the day off . several calls , meetings , deals , clients fly across his mind , things he should be tackling during the day to come . . . but aria had asked so tenderly , like she's afraid that asking him not to leave is too much to ask for . he figures maybe he can answer an email or two once she falls asleep , if he's sneaky enough .
brooks presses a soft kiss to her cheekbone , tasting the salt on her skin from exertion , and brushes a thumb across the sweaty hair stuck to her forehead . " i'm not goin' anywhere , honey . . . " he says quietly , the term of endearment slipping too naturally from his lips before placing another soft kiss to her temple , her ear , just below her lobe , her neck , and rests his cheek upon her shoulder . " . . . n' hey — i don't remember giving you permission to come . " he mutters quietly , a smile cracking upon his lips as he tilts his head to look up at her . " so that's strike number two . i don't think you want to get to strike number three — or , maybe you do , you dirty fuckin' girl . " they stay like that a moment , his hand finding its way to rest upon her breast , not so much in arousal but simply because she's here , with him , and he might as well .
eventually brooks pulls out , sucking in a sharp breath and wincing at the sensation , falling back to lay beside her atop his sheets . his breathing has slowed , and the morning light is beginning to peak through the curtains . he dares another peek at her , a giddy smile on his features as he takes in her exhaustion . " good ? " he asks , though he already knows the answer . he stares at her a moment longer , and while he was no stranger to what he'd come to know as post - nut clarity , he realized that post - sex with aria he always felt more appreciative , more infatuated , more dedicated . it's TERRIFYING . so brooks hauls himself up off the bed with a groan , standing before her and offering her his hands to help pull her up . " come shower with me , " he pulls her up , lowering his head to catch her in a quick kiss . months ago brooks had sent photos of aria's shampoo , conditioner , and other favorite products to his assistant and requested she swap whatever he formerly used with those , knowing from his sister how important certain products were to some women . so he'd just made the swap in case aria cared . . . and despite this being a move he'd never done for anyone before , brooks still tried to convince himself he wasn't in love with her . he motions for her to head towards the bathroom . but not before his hand smacks across her ass , the clap in the air paired with a devilish smile . " fuck , you look so good , " he admits , lower lip catching between his teeth as he dawdles behind to take in her figure , " you drive me crazy , woman . "
brooks' apartment an expansive open concept space that seems to span an entire half of the building , as the unit has windows flanking its three exterior walls . it smells vaguely of citrus and cedar , and som unidentifiable r&b album swoons through the built - in speaker system . it almost looks like a showroom , like a unit staged to sell , considering how few personal items are visible . one could go so far as to say brooks' home came straight from a mid - century or bauhaus interior design magazine , as though someone had decorated it with the intent of winning an award , a clean balance of comfort and warmth , sleekness and precision . brooks attempts to capitalize on courtney's attention while the crew sets up , almost uncaring if she also has things to prepare . he'd only really agreed to this so he could meet her in person , after all .
“ i live at the juniper , mostly ‘cause it was convenient when i moved back from new york . wanted to be close to work , walking distance to coffeeshops and bars n’ stuff . . . and now i've owned this place for , like , six - ish years ? i think i'm just settled here , now . what would i move for ? this place has everything i need : a bedroom , home office , kitchen . . . and it doesn't have anything i don't want . like , i can't think of anything worse than coming home from a long ass work week and having to mow the lawn , or like , fix a fuckin' leaky faucet or something . i guess i could just hire people to do it , but . . . i don't know , it's just home , i guess . just somewhere to sleep , then get back to work . "
“ that's a big question , ” brooks laughs , a hand scratching up through the back of his hair . “ i mean , i haven't really . my mom says it looks like a showroom , with how bare it is . but i guess i don't really see the need for , like , a ton of shit that sits around n' gets dusty . y'know ? like — i guess the most personal things i have are ones that i actually use , like my records over there . . . ” he points towards a shelving unit packed with hundreds of vinyl records . “ and , uh — i guess my desk is the most personal thing , funny enough ; i spend a lot of time there . oh , n' i have this sick electronic drum kit — i used to play drums as a kid 'cause if i didn't have something to do i'd just get into trouble , so drums were like — good for aggression , or whatever . so that’s fun to fuck around with from time to time . . . but yeah , there's nothing too personal in here — when i moved in , i hired an interior designer to set it up and it hasn't really changed at all . like i said , it's just a place to sleep . ”
𝘄𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝗶𝘀 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗳𝗮𝘃𝗼𝗿𝗶𝘁𝗲 𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗱 𝗼𝗳 𝗵𝗼𝘂𝘀𝗲𝗴𝘂𝗲𝘀𝘁 ?
“ i hate nosy people . like , i hate when someone comes over and wants a tour , or looks around at all your stuff . i just find it kind of tacky , y'know ? like , scrutinizing someone's home . and i hate it when people want to talk about your stuff — like if they look at my records and tell me how much they love this album or that one . . . i just don't give a fuck . but i don't really have many houseguests over — at least to hang out . if i have someone over , they're here for a purpose , n' then when we're done , “ a grimace , as though realizing in real time how sleazy he was making himself sound , ” . . . they're outta here . oh ! another thing i hate — when someone shows up empty - handed — that's crazy to me ; i can't imagine being invited into someone's home and not bringing something , even like — a bottle of wine , or flowers . maybe it's just how i was raised . so . . . i guess the truth is i don't like houseguests . there are only a few people i actually like having over . "
“ i don't know , they're fine , i guess . but there's this lady down the hall who's having an affair or something , n' — okay , i hit on her once or twice ’cause i thought it'd just be convenient : if she's already doin' the extramarital thing , and i live right here , why not just add me to the roster , y'know ? but anyway , i think she thinks i'm going to tell someone so she's all hostile towards me . as if i care who she sleeps with . “ a shrug , as if it's a normal conversation , before he's ushered to continue . " uh . . . i don't really know any of the others . i don't really hang out here , i just come here to sleep , and even then half the time i'm sleeping at — a friend's house . so yeah , i guess overall positive ? don't know if they'd say the same about me . ”
𝘄𝗵𝗶𝗰𝗵 𝗿𝗼𝗼𝗺 𝗵𝗮𝘀 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗯𝗲𝘀𝘁 𝗹𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝘀𝗲𝗹𝗳𝗶𝗲𝘀 ?
“ selfies ? you think i'm taking selfies ? ” a genuine laugh , as though the question was specifically written for him . “ i have no idea , you're asking the wrong person . maybe the bedroom ? that's not a bad place to take pictures . ” a stupid smirk towards courtney , cheekily aware how it sounds . “ no , i don't know . my family has a couple properties around the world — like turks and caicos , y'ever been ? " an aside specifically directed to courtney , who looks flustered that she's being so blatantly flirted with in the middle of an interview , " it's beautiful . perfect place for selfies . "
𝘄𝗵𝗮𝘁’𝘀 𝗶𝗻 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗳𝗿𝗶𝗱𝗴𝗲 𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 𝗻𝗼𝘄 ?
“ oh shit , that's a loaded question , ” brooks laughs , moving to stand in front of the fridge with crossed arms , a physically barrier to anyone opening it or getting too close to the surrounding cabinets . “ d'you know i got flamed recently for how bare it is ? i think what's in there right now . . . ” brooks looks to the ceiling , as though trying to recall what's stocked in the appliance right behind him , “ . . . is the bones of a rotisserie chicken , some jam from my friend riley's grandma , a bunch of hot sauces — tapatio is my favorite , a couple bottles of cold brew , an apple or two . . . oh , and those lil' pickled cocktail onions . those things are so fucking good — i'll eat 'em for breakfast , lunch , and dinner . “ realizing how unhealthy it sounds , he continues , “ — but it's not my fault it's so empty — my assistant does the grocery shopping n' she's away right now . i just don't eat that much either . feel like it slows me down , so i'll just survive on coffee n' — yeah , mostly just coffee during the day , until dinner and then usually i'll just go out to eat . i don't really have time to cook , or anyone to cook for . ”
𝘄𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝗶𝘀 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗯𝗲𝘀𝘁 𝗳𝗲𝗮𝘁𝘂𝗿𝗲 𝗼𝗳 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗯𝗲𝗱𝗿𝗼𝗼𝗺 ?
another slick grin slips across his lips , lower lip caught between teeth as though they're building the inference into the question . “ hmm , that's a great question , ” he teases , leading the crew into the room . the bedroom is immaculate : bed made with military precision , items lined up perfectly upon their surfaces , almost lacking in any personal touch . “ i guess probably the view is the best feature — it's no new york skyline , but it's decent for small town texas . ” the large window looks out over downtown willow glen , sprawling hills in the distance behind the city . “ i also like my bed : it’s a california king — n' i'm six foot five , so if someone has a bed that's , like , standard length , i'm uncomfortable all night long ‘cause i’m all crunched up , or my feet are fuckin' hanging off the end . yeah, i love my bed — there's only a couple places i'll sleep other than here . ”
𝗕𝗥𝗢𝗢𝗞𝗦' 𝗛𝗢𝗠𝗘 , 𝗦𝗨𝗠𝗠𝗔𝗥𝗜𝗭𝗘𝗗 : the three bed , two bath apartment centers around the main living space : a sleek kitchen , bathed in walnut wood inlay cabinets stand dark against sleek white marble countertops . the counters are bare apart from an espresso machine that costs more than someone's rent , a stack of cookbooks lined neatly in one corner ( they appear to have never been opened ) , and an empty fruit bowl . the marble kitchen island separates the kitchen from the living room space . the living room is centered around a large square coffee table , a glass top with wood underneath displaying an arrangement of overly curated coffee table books that've never been flipped through , a large plush white sofa sits across from a decent - sized television , mid - century armchairs flanking the other two sides of the coffee table . the television plays a sports game on mute , likely the most personal touch in the place , were it not for the large shelving unit stocked with hundreds ( if not a thousand ) vinyl records organized with concerning attention to detail . an expensive record player , restored by an expert no doubt , sits beside the shelving , two expensive - looking speakers flanking it . to the left of the living space lies the primary suite — a large , half - full walk - in closet that seems to contain a wardrobe composed of nearly entirely of suits , a sleek bathroom with a double vanity , and a large bedroom looking out over downtown willow glen . the other half of the apartment holds two other bedrooms , another bathroom , a laundry room , seemingly untouched apart from dry cleaning hanging on a rack . the first spare bedroom is set up as a home office , a large desk covered in various folders surrounding duel monitors , six wall clocks displaying different time zones . the room is almost clinical in its lack of personal touch , and everything clearly has a place : pens neatly lined up , desk chair tucked in just so , temperature set to an exact 67 degrees . the other spare bedroom is nearly empty apart from a peloton and several empty cardboard boxes , a blank canvas belonging to someone so regimented in their lifestyle that they haven't collected enough things to fill it .
this is all old hat to eilis. she can't really believe that back in the day, she used to go to these things and fly completely under the radar. now, the show had been running for too long, and she'd been stopped five times. what was lucky, though, was everyone's favorite morning television hostess got some things. that included holding onto extra cinnamon rolls for her.
"you have to start using your connections for your own benefit, mr. mayor," she states, a small smile on her face, as she pulls out one of the three boxes from her tote bag, and offers it out to him, "they hold onto them for me. it's — famous people promotion, or something, i don't know. but i only really needed the two boxes — one for me and one for amara."
“ now , hold on , ms . rhodes . i spent forty years buildin' a reputation . can't have you tellin' people i'm usin' political influence for baked goods . “ she infers that he's famous , and he laughs , more genuinely than he would with most – conrad considers eilis to be far more of a local star than himself . “ famous ? darlin' , i'm the mayor of a town no one can find without a GPS . ‘sides , most days folks only recognize me when they’re complainin' ! ” he's only joking , obviously , but there's a tinge of truth in the statement . he remembers the connection between eilis and amara , the girl to be his daughter - in - law at some point , it would seem . conrad didn't feel particularly one way or the other about the engagement — happy for his son , of course , but time had yet to tell whether amara would be up to the challenge of weathering the langford ways , particularly his own wife . " well , that's very kind of you , " he nods graciously , accepting a box from the other . “ how's she doin' ? amara , that is . i reckon y'all are mighty busy with all the weddin' stuff . ”
he hadn't meant to start a conversation with the mayor, embarrassingly mistook him for another guy he knew with equally beautiful salt-and-pepper hair and the same broad-backed silhouette. he managed to compose himself just enough from the man's own tendency to yap like he was still campaigning, like he didn't already have his name on the door of the mayor's office (like his parents hadn't been generous in making absolutely sure to have it there). "if you want cinnamon rolls, i know a guy." or a girl. he did have a chit to call in with ollie. plastic cup crunched in his grip as he slurped the bottom of his lemonade through the now tattered straw, not-so subtly sizing the mayor up in his sunday wear as they walked in step. "hey, do you wear lifts? you seem shorter." had like an inch over the guy, but he remembered him to be taller in his mind. or maybe he associated authority figures with being bigger somehow.
he's halfway grateful to spot julian , but part of him thinks mrs . taylor would have made for an easier conversation , even if she had a vendetta over kids being kids . " well , look who's still breathin' ! " the koenig family were generous donors who , lucky for him , aligned with his vision for revitalizing willow glen . it'd been a strategic alliance , one which had already made the two families heaps of money . conrad is taken aback by julian's question , amused nonetheless as a slow smile spreading across his lips . 'least he's honest , he thinks to himself , impressed by julian's audacity , though he also wonders what kind of trouble he gets into on the regular because of it . " no , son . you're just finally standin' up straight . " a hand claps paternally against julian's shoulder , perhaps harder than necessary , before he stuffs both hands casually into his pockets . his eyes narrow slightly at the other , glittering like he can't quite figure out what to make of julian . “ how's your health these days , mr. koenig ? your daddy told me 'bout your fall . glad to see you're upright again . ”