now we're stressed out.

GRAYSON COLTON ROMERO. thirty-one, westbrook resident; kingsgate raised, bartender and manager at Drink, storyteller.

[tinarannosaurus]

[graysonromero-blog]

SASKIA.

Saskia sat on a park bench, slowly rocking Nora in her arms. A car alarm had gone off in the middle of the night, and the baby had been cranky ever since. And while a public park seemed like an odd place to try to make your child sleep, it was far quieter than their own neighborhood. “Somewhere over the rainbow, bluebirds fly,” she sang as Nora’s lashes fluttered shut. “If birds- oh shit,” Saskia groaned as her elbow made contact with a sippy cup and pushed it to the ground. She looked around frantically, both embarrassed by her word choice and hopeful that someone nearby could help her. “Excuse me,” Saskia called out to the person nearest her, “could you please pass me that cup? She’s almost asleep and I’m afraid to move,” she pleaded.

With his hands shoved in his pockets and this trademarked frown on his lips, Gray wandered through the park en route to the bar. The detour came about after he’d seen a bunch of teenagers up ahead on his normal route, and that was something he did not have the patience to deal with today. He had an hour to kill, either way, so this was a win-win. However, the sound of melodic singing cut off by a curse word had him stopping in his tracks, quirking a brow as he felt something brush against his shoe. “Pretty sure those aren’t the words to the song.” He looked down, the offending sippy cup on the brink of leaking on the footpath, before looking back up at the voice with a mild smirk on his lips. Bending down, he grabbed the cup and stood up, handing it over to her. He hadn’t much experience with babies over his adult life - or ever, if he were to be honest - so it wasn’t a wonder why he wasn’t sure what to say. “How old is she?” he figured was a safe question, not that he needed to question it, but... he did have an hour to kill.

[graysonromero-blog]

HUNTER.

“Thank you.” Hunter said with a smile, more genuine than it probably came off, but the man wasn’t great about showing emotions anymore, not to just anyone. Besides, he’d rather come off a little weird than what he actually was. Weird was always the better alternative. “You and me both.” He laughed a bit, “but I’m good, thanks for the offer though. If I ever need someone to yell at, I’ll keep you in mind.” The man sighed before nodding, “maybe not in a minute, but later today I’ll get a ring, I always do. If I could block him, I would. It would make life so much easier.” 

Gray merely nodded at the other’s thanks, a tight-lipped smile working its way onto his lips. He never had been the best when it came to situations like this, not knowing how to act, but had learned that smiling and nodding seemed to get him out of trouble most days. He quirked a brow at the statement, tilting his head back slightly before chuckling at his words. “Well, if you’re used to it as well, maybe won’t be as satisfying if you do take me up on the yelling. Knowing what the other’s up to and all that shit,” he said, furrowing his brows mostly at himself. “I mean. I’m not the best with tech and phones, but you like... can block someone on your phone. Right?”

[graysonromero-blog]

CALLUM.

Callum was not usually one to skimp on the nightlife - he’d rather roll into work on three hours sleep than be holed up like a kept animal. But the case he’d been working on was an important one, and exceptions had to be made. “Three weeks with my head spent buried in depositions… What did I miss?” 

Gray’s gaze quirked up from the register before him at the sound of the familiar voice, his brows soon following in the nature of quirking upward. He leaned back on his heels, pursing his lips as he considered the question. “What didn’t you miss, is more the question,” he began, his tone all sarcasm. “Bought a new table ‘cause someone broke the other one.” He motioned towards the back of the bar disinterestedly before leaning to rest his forearms on the bar top. “Buried in depositions sounds traumatic. Not that I know what said burring entails, but still sounds traumatic.”

[graysonromero-blog]

HUNTER.

“The person I was on the phone with.” He said, clarifying his rather vague statement. His hand instinctively went to the bridge of his nose, a stress tick if nothing else, “he seems to want impossible things, and I am not santa, nor god, so I don’t know why he thinks i can deliver, but thats not a story you need to hear.” Hunter sighed, “anyways, at least it’s over for the minute.”  

Gray quirked a brow, not one of judgement but one more out of a natural reaction. He’d never had the best normal kind of reactions to anyone and everyone and knew his look of lack of interest could be taken in the wrong way. He offered a tight-lipped smile inside, “Well. Glad to be of assistance?” he spoke like a question. As Hunter spoke along, his brows raised even more, however, and he finally settled with a soft chuckle dripping from his lips. “Eh, I’m used to people venting their life problems to me, so go right ahead if you want to,” he replied, hand motioning in a ‘go on’ gesture, even if his statement was mostly sarcasm. “For the minute, meaning they’ll bug you again in another minutes time? Sounds like you’d benefit from blocking this person. Just a thought.”

[graysonromero-blog]

JUNE.

Looking up at him with pinched features, clearly trying to hold back laughter, June squinted for a long moment before speaking, “I know,” she said at first, “Why has such a thing not been invented yet? I mean, phones can do so many things, but alerting you to do something, like an alarm or something, nope, they can’t do that,” she joked along, suppressing laughter very poorly as it seemed to seep out between sentences. She stuck her tongue out at his smirk and then placed her head down on the armrest of the couch again, arms half wrapped around it. “No, don’t,” she whined mockingly. “I don’t mind its clinginess after all. I’ll come visit it to make sure it doesn’t feel forgotten.” The couch at her place wasn’t nearly as comfortable as Grayson’s, which made her question why she got it in the first place. The whole purpose of a couch, at least in her opinion, was for it to be comfortable. When he emerged from the kitchen again, bottles of water in hand, she pushed herself up a bit to make more room for him, leaning on one arm while she grabbed the water with the other. “Thank you. And yes, I do mean everything. Even if it’s just boring work stories,” she added, knowing he did work way too much. “Oh, you’re going to adopt a dog? That’s great! What kind of dog? Did you go looking yet?” She asked, “If not, then let me come with you please.” When he asked for the update on her life, she shrugged boringly. “Nothing to tell. I’m just working and hanging out with my grandparents,” she admitted with a half smile.

"Clearly we’re on to something here,” he continued, the amusement creeping through his features as a smirk rose on his lips. “Think we’re onto the next big thing? A new business idea. We’ll work on it, this alarm prospect could be real fucking big, you know?” he finished with a grin, unable to help himself at this point. The few people in life he could genuinely smile around and June was definitely one of them. He felt comfortable talking to her, it was easy, even if half of the shit they spoke about made absolutely no sense. “Good. You’re the only one who loves it, don’t abandon it now. Gotta cherish it,” he replied with a definitive nod. He couldn’t deny the love for the couch, it was pretty damn good – probably the best piece of furniture he and his roommate, Blake, owned. He uncapped his water, taking a sip as June spoke and screwed up his nose at her words, “Boring work stories? Why would I tell you ‘bout them when I could tell you about how last week I almost got into a punch-up with a nineteen-year-old punk who thought he could use a McLovin fake ID and get away with it?” he drawled, brows raised. “Hm, not sure. Haven’t looked yet, and I’ve never had a dog before so don’t really know what breeds to look for? It’ll be something though...” he trailed off with pursed lips, contemplation echoing his mind. He hadn’t been keen on the dog idea until Emma implemented it in his brain and now he was kind of sold on it – not that he’d admit that out loud, he had to be blase about it to keep up his facade of Not Caring. “Yeah alright, you can come with,” he agreed, preferring to have someone with him anyways. He nudged her slightly, a smile rising on his lips, “Come on if your life’s more boring than mine then you know you’re doing something wrong. How’s hanging out with the grandparents? They stuffing you with food as the stereotype says?”

[graysonromero-blog]

HUNTER.

“No, I get it.” He said, in response listening to the voice on the other end of the phone continue on, “it is a lot, I know.” He continued, more placating his boss than actually listening. There was no way it was happening, he didn’t fly anymore, at least not now, so getting what the man wanted was practically impossible, if he wanted to be undetected and that was all Hunter wanted. “Hey, let me think about it, but I’m going to have to let you go–” he was interrupted, “no, I know this is important but my meeting just showed up.” It didn’t he just needed a nice way to hang up, “yeah, uh huh.” He rolled his eyes before ending the call, directing his attention to the person nearing him, “you don’t know this, but I think you just saved someone’s life, I swear.” 

He didn’t mean to listen in on the conversation, but Hunter was right in front of him and Grayson was only human. So he listened. And raised his brows as he not-so-subtly cut off whoever it was he was talking to and hung up the call. His raised brows were soon accompanied by an amused smirk as he folded his arms across his chest, cocking his head to the side in contemplation. “That so?” he questioned, slouching back slightly. “Someone’s life as in yours? Or we talking ‘bout whoever you just hung up on?”

[graysonromero-blog]

SIERRA.

              A joke, one that she wasn’t laughing at. Her sense of humour was often lost amongst frustration and annoyance, but even in this situation she couldn’t bring herself to even try and find the funny side. “Of course I didn’t do it on purpose—-” She moaned, kicking the railings lightly out of anger.  “And ain’t the best at taking things as a joke…” She reiterated as if it wasn’t already obvious, looking over the side of the pier for one last time as hopes of ever recovering the Macbook faded into the water. “Trying to get rid of all of the shit in my life,” Sierra admitted as she stood back up straight, turning to face him with an expression that was a a little less harsh than before. “The laptop wasn’t meant to be in there,” Of course. Letting out a long and slow breath, her eyes fell into the box that still had a random collection of belongings, “You want any of it?” She asked, giving him a shrug. “Because I’m going to burn it all later otherwise.”

"I kind of gathered that,” he replied, more of a mumble than anything, realising that he should back away from the topic. He knew how to pick up a cue when it was necessary, and any goading or his natural shit-bag personality wasn’t going to help in this case. “Well, my apologies for making it worse. Didn’t mean to set you off,” he replied with a quirk of his brows, a slight smile forming on his lips– closed-lipped and some form of sympathy creaking through, or so he hoped that’s what it looked like anyway. He nodded along as she explained, knowing the feeling of wanting to get rid of shit in one’s life. “Pass it off as human error, if anyone asks you can say a kid rode by on a skateboard and kicked it in like the little asshole he was,” he replied, before cringing slightly to himself, realising that, again, probably was not the best of things to say. He quirked a brow before peeking over into the box, shoving his hands in his pocket. “Got enough shit of my own in my life, and my apartment, I don’t think I should add anyone else’s leftovers to the pile. I can help you light the match though, always here for a bit of pyrotechnics.”

[graysonromero-blog]

CECILIA.

Diego was off doing his own thing now, and by all accounts she was just as much a grownup as him, and not just ‘his little sister’ anymore, yet there were still times where it was hard to ignore the fact that she was indeed that. Grayson was someone she wouldn’t have known if it weren’t for him, and that was probably why she sometimes tended to tell herself to keep her distance — Until she couldn’t anymore at least. “Uh, roughly since…” She looked from Grayson and then back over her shoulder, nodding toward her friend and the ex-boyfriend, “Roughly since they couldn’t stand each other?” Which it seemed very much like they could now, their faces inches apart and eyes glued to each other. “I don’t mind being the third wheel, but it’s easier when you have more than just one drink in your system, right? Which is why… I’m here. So yeah, you can make that gin and tonic a double actually.” She grinned, her eyes not really meeting Grayson’s for more than a half second at a time before she quickly added, “Thank you,” and offered a sincere smile.

By all logical means, Gray knew he should’ve always steered clear of Cecilia. Of course, there was nothing wrong with simply talking to her or befriending her, but there was a fine line between that and being something more – the kind of line they’d broken a few times already. But, what Diego didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him, as much as Gray hated to think of it that way. He watched as she spoke and turn around, his eyes trailing her gaze to a girl and guy who looked very close for comfort. He quirked a brow, smirking as he looked back at her, “One of those on-again-off-again couples are they?” he questioned idly, forearms coming up to rest atop the bar. He chuckled at her response, lips turning down in a slight pout, “Touche. Coming right up,” he said, quirk work of making the drink and sliding it across the bar to her. “No charge. ‘Least I can do for you having to put up with them, huh?” he smiled a tight-lipped smile, cocking his head at her, eyeing her curiously. Like most things, he was never really sure how to act around her, especially given their situation. Or lack of a situation, he should say. “No problem,” he responded a beat too later after she’d spoken.

[graysonromero-blog]

JUNE.

“Thank you,” she jested from her spot on the couch, clearly comfortable enough in his company to wander into his place without waiting for an actual invitation and without greeting him properly at first. Side effects of years and years of friendship, it seemed. But he knew she cared — This was just how it was between them, or at least from June’s side of things. “Time is a horrible thing sometimes, right? Making me late and everything,” she scoffed in mock disapproval, a playful spark in her eye. She was in a good mood, and even though Grayson didn’t know it, it had almost everything to do with him. He might not have been the bubbliest of guys, not even close, but she had been excited to see him all day and now that she was, she was happy. When he said they could stay and talk for a bit, quickly uncovering her intentions, she laughed and shot him a bright smile. “You know me so well. But to be fair, your couch is really comfortable and it’s kind of clingy, isn’t it? Doesn’t want to let me go again.” If she could blame time, she could blame a couch too. “Water is fine, thank you. Now, update me on everything, and I do mean everything.”

"Oh, just the most horrible of things,” he played along as she mockingly scoffed. Gray shook his head, shrugging as he turned away, “there should be some kind of invention that like, makes a sound to alert you when you need to get up and ready to leave for places. Something loud. And on your phone. Easy access, you know?” he drawled sarcastically, a slow-rising smirk gracing his lips as he turned over his shoulder to aim said smirk at June. It was easy to bounce off her words, reactions coming easily and in a joking manner around June. Despite the fact it was no secret he was irrationally grumpy a majority of the time, he did let his guard down around a select few. “I’ll be sure to have strong words with my couch about its clinginess. Can’t have it getting attached too easily now, that would be inappropriate,” he spoke, rummaging through the fridge to procure a bottle of water for her, grabbing a bottle for himself, too. “Everything? Do you know who you’re talking to,” he began, walking back into the room and falling into the couch beside her, handing her the bottle. Cracking open his own, he shrugged, “Come on, June, you know all I do is work,” he spoke blandly, cocking his head to the side. “Might adopt a dog, though,” he commented off-handedly as if the subject of adopting an animal was your everyday, run of the mill thing. “What’s the update on your life?”

[graysonromero-blog]

ROWAN.

               Adorned in a gray knitted cardigan that was double the size of her lithe frame, a soft melodic hum to some song about jackie chan that currently infiltrated nearly every radio station flitted into the brisk mid September air like a music box. A nimble hand glided against one of the benches with a paint roller, staining the wood a mahogany brown. The two benches in front of the flower shop were in dire need of a paint job - the original wood hidden behind graffiti, and a horrid white paint job. The corner of her eye caught wind of a figure sitting down on the opposite bench she was currently working on, one that she had just finished painting. “Oh.” The syllable ushered out of her lips, barely audible as her eyes widened to match the word. She pressed her fingers to her lips, unsure of what to do before taking a step towards her newest company, “– maybe um, not the best choice to have a seat there…” She murmured, her nose crinkling as she pursed her lips, waving the brush in her hand, “I’m - sorry. I should have put a sign up, or something.”

Despite the fact, Gray owned a working, and in very good condition motorcycle, he still tended to walk around a lot of places around town. For god knows what reason, considering he was convinced he was getting old and walking everywhere was probably a stupid idea. He’d never been one to take the easy way out of things, a morbid curiosity lingering about him in every sense of life. His current endeavour of walking lead him to now, annoyed with his injured knee – another very good reason he shouldn’t be walking long distances – and in need of a seat, only if for a few moments. Without paying much attention to his surroundings, as he normally did, he sat down only to hear both the voice startle him and the sensation of wet paint sticking against his jeans. He screwed his nose up, only just now smelling the fresh paint and stood up, coughing as he quirked his chin over his shoulder to see his ass covered in colour. “Oh, well–” he cut himself off, turning his gaze to the voice, a tight-lipped smile gracing his lips. “Not necessarily your fault, I guess. I mean, the smell is strong enough to ward anyone off. A sign might help though for the future, in the case you get more idiotic people like myself to sit down,” he spoke slowly, eyebrows raised as he eyed her. “Sorry for mucking up the paint job. If you ask me, the ass-imprint makes it unique.”

[graysonromero-blog]

ANNIE.

As much as Annie tried, she continued to struggle. No matter what she did to try and break herself out of her funk. Annie decided that filling all her spare time with different friends was probably a smart way to go, try to bury her problems and stop herself from getting into these lonely holes. Grayson always seemed to be a good choice, for helping her forget and making her laugh for a while. Plus he worked in a bar, and thus had a supply of booze that she could easily tap into to try and numb the pain. So, she headed to the bar. Sending her friend a quick text to let him know that she was on her way. Annie couldn’t help but smile upon seeing Grayson; ‘’Well there goes my plan to get completely paralytic.’’ She joked, pulling him into a hug. ‘’I could murder about ten gin and tonics right about now.’’ 

It was a chain reaction kind of thing, after seeing Annie smile Gray couldn’t help his own soft, barely there but still creeping through, smile. He wasn’t the kind of person who genuinely smiled a lot for people, but for those he was close to and cared about it was easy. Annie was one of those people – always had been, and considering she was in such a funk lately, the mere appearance of a smile was enough to settle his stomach. “Just looking out for you is all,” he drawled slowly, eyebrows raised as he kept his gaze on her until she leaned in for a hug, that he returned quickly with a tight squeeze of comfort. An ungraceful snort of sorts scoffed out at her words, shaking his head as he went to work on mixing a drink for her. “How ‘bout I give you one for starters then we’ll see how you feel about murdering nine more?” he questioned, though it was more of a statement as he finished up the drink and slid it across the bar to her, leaning on his elbows on the counter after, silence racking through the air for a few short moments before he spoke again, tentatively. “How are you?”

[graysonromero-blog]

JACOB.

                                   Jacob pushed his sleeves up to sit behind his elbows, sliding them onto the bar counter after emptying his glass for the fourth or maybe fifth time; he’d lost count by now. He’d had no idea that the dude working the bar was the manager as well, but in the end it did result in a slight increase in respect for him. Jacob liked hard working people, and he decided to assume this guy had worked for his position whereas the highest ups at Lammar’s probably had theirs handed down to them. “Don’t waste your time going. They might not even let you into Lammar’s,” he said honestly, knowing people had been refused at the door before. Ten years ago and Jacob wouldn’t have been allowed near it. “Biased or not, you do have a pretty good establishment here. It stays busy, doesn’t it?” He asked, taking another look at the guy, a real one for once, realizing that he was somewhat familiar— a lot of people were though, and he decided to hold off on asking who he was until he was sure he couldn’t place him himself.

Gray snorted at the mention of not letting him in the bar, a mild shake of his head. “You’re not wrong,” he replied airly with a shrug of his shoulders. He had absolutely no interest in attending the bar on the coveted Kingsgate Island in actual fact. He wouldn’t be surprised if somehow his father, who he was sure was a regular attendant of the bar, had somehow found a way to make sure Gray couldn’t step foot in there. Gray nodded at the others words, reaching out to grab a cloth on habit as he began wiping down the bar, “Yeah, it does. Always busy in one way or another. When it’s not the weekend we keep afloat by the abundance of regulars who drift in and out of here, so we do well,” he spoke confidently without the air of cockiness, his gaze drifting up to his companion with a tight-lipped smile. He knew the bar did well, there was no point denying that. 

[graysonromero-blog]

HELENA.

             “Shut up, I can hear the sarcasm dripping through your lips.” Helena narrowed her eyes playfully at the other, pushing some hair away from her face that escaped from her ponytail and sighed, “Hmm…perhaps you should go get something eat to change that. Wouldn’t want you to pass out from starvation and someone by chance walking past drawing something your face.” 

Gray shrugged with a tight-lipped smile at her response, “It’s a natural instinct of mine. Years of repressing. Can’t help but be sarcastic. I’d say I’m sorry but then we both know that would be a lie,” he spoke slowly with a quirked brow, his eyes glinting; his words meant no harm, he just wasn’t the best at actually making conversation and not pissing people off. “In fact, I would love that. Means I get to yell at someone for invading my privacy. Yelling is my favourite past time, you see.”

[graysonromero-blog]

ISABEL.

“Hey, so can I buy you a drink in exchange for helping me avoid that guy over there?” As Isabel asked the question, she glanced back very cautiously, trying to indicate where the problem lay. He’d been following her around the bar for the last twenty minutes or so and seeing as who she’d been meeting had been waylayed, with no idea when they’d be arriving, she was kind of stuck now —- with extremely unwanted attention. “He’s, uh, a little full on… I’d blame the drink, but I’m not so sure anymore.”

Gray’s gaze quirked up to the voice from his side of the bar. He was working, yes, however, he was on the opposite side of the bar than usual due to the fact he was cleaning up broken glass from someone he had just kicked out. He had no problem kicking more people out if need be, especially now that this question had been raised. He quirked a brow and turned back, unashamedly, to where she was subtly indicating before turning back to her. “Do you want me to kick him out. Because I can do that.”

[samanthapanther]

[graysonromero-blog]

HELENA.

         “I told you I knew how to fix a flat tire.” Helena chuckled as she wiped away the dirt from her hands. “You know it should be required before they give you a licenses to drive. Know where the oil is at, what’s under the hood, how to change out the flat to a donut, the fun stuff.” She leaned over to grab her iced coffee and took a drink, “But back onto the subject, what were you saying?” 

"And now I will never doubt your prowess again,” he deadpanned, cocking an eyebrow at her. He never doubted her for a second, that was for sure. If someone was confident in a task at hand, Gray wasn’t one to disagree – until, of course, if seen in action and the job was not taken out like they’d previously stated. Then he gained rights to smirk and jibe. “Hm. You should pitch that to the license gods, make it a prerequisite,” he spoke idly, eyeing her as she took a sip of her drink. He shook his head, shoving his hands in his pockets and shrugging. “Can’t remember, your skill for tire changing has riddled my mind. I’m brainless now. But I probably mentioned something about lunch because my stomach started growling approximately four minutes ago.”