julian is no more at the moment, but this is my main blog, so please ignore this follow! Follow @diana-cohen
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@julianeldridge
julian is no more at the moment, but this is my main blog, so please ignore this follow! Follow @diana-cohen
i temporarily fall in love with like any guy thats nice to me at all like the checkout guy at CVS told me to “stay dry” this morning bc it was raining and i thought about him for like 2 hours after that
alli-pellisier:
Sobriety sucks, the phrase clung on to Allison like a vice, it was something she’d heard time and time again. But as she placed a hand on Julian’s shoulder, rather than telling him she was proud she just said, “I’m just glad you’re doing well today.” It was neutral, but it was the best she had. “Sorry, I’m glad that my boyfriend is getting along so well with my brother.” She joked. As much as she appreciated how Julian held Quinn up to a viable standard, it hurt her heart to know what Julian clearly did not. “You haven’t um, you haven’t tried to call him recently with no luck right?” Allison already had a cover if the man answered her with a retort that would confirm her brother had been unavailable, a part of her ready to lie but another part not feeling well at all at the thought of lying to Julian. She silently prayed it wouldn’t come to that and she quickly averted her gaze back over to the canvas, smiling at the three pieces. As she heard the name of the man’s Venmo account name however, she couldn’t help but stifle in a bit of laughter, Julian truly did live to the toll of his own bell.
Despite that, Allison entered snakeb0y411, emphasis on the 0 where the O in boy would have been, and she didn’t think twice before she sent the man $2,600. It was only two thousand over the asking price and if she didn’t think the man would have dropped dead on the spot in the manor, she would have sent more. “Definitely more than fair,” Allison noted, as she placed her phone away, grabbing for a canvas. “Tell me what we have here though and what it stands for.”
Julian twirled the umbrella, the corners of his mouth pulling up in an amused smile, but her question caught him off guard, resulting in the umbrella whacking him on the forehead. He blinked, dazed with the surprise of the assault, but he also knew the weight behind her question. He had been the subject of it a thousand times. He forced out a laugh and sat the umbrella down, holding his hands up in surrender as if it beat him, and finally met her eyes. “Uh, nope, I haven’t had a problem at all,” he lied. “Answers every time.” He flicked his eyes to the ceiling and tilted his head. “I’m disappointed there’s no gold. I was expecting gold. I feel like there isn’t a point to a manor if there’s no gold...” He motioned an elongated shape with his hands. “Crust? What’s that fucking word? Goes on the edges of walls? It’s not crust. That’s... okay. We’re moving on.”
It had been a long time since he had to deflect anything, and he wasn’t sure why that was his knee jerk reaction, but it was. He happily jumped into the description of his paintings, ignoring the buzzing of his cell phone as the transfer hit his account. “Normally I’d say fuck you, figure it out yourself, but you told me to go crazy and I won’t be rude.” He pointed to the first one, where purples and blues were the center. “That’s Hell,” he explained. “I mean, not literal hell, because hell doesn’t exist, it’s the name of the piece. That’s a door.” He pointed to a small half inch square in the horizon before he moved to the next canvas. The square was larger in this one. “I call this one Growth. I know this is all looking very literal, but I assure you, there is plenty of metaphors to be found. The door isn’t growing, it’s getting closer. The viewer grows.” He turned his gaze to the last one, stark black with orange and red lilies lined the corner. His fingers tapped against his thighs before he looked at her with a small smile. “That one’s untitled. Figured you could name it. You’re out of the door.”
quinn-hawthorne:
Location: Redwood Bay Community Center
@julianeldridge
It had felt kind of strange to be leading the N.A meetings lately. The past few weeks he’d felt guilty. He hadn’t relapsed in any major way, he didn’t sink back into drugs, but Quinn couldn’t help the tinge of guilt. He’d kept the meetings open as it was, free form, and allowing for anyone to speak and share as much as they wanted. Still, directing it now felt different than it had before. He hadn’t spoken much during the last few meetings, not sharing. It wasn’t exactly like him. “Alright, if no one else has anything to share tonight, I think that’s going to wrap things up.” And with the silent confirmation that there was nothing else to be shared, he put a half-hearted smile on his face, and stood up from his seat.
“Snacks and coffee are still up for grabs, so feel free to take some, no rush to leave.” He wanted to go home, try and get some sleep. He had crashed the night before, slept for about 15 hours, but he was exhausted all over again. As everyone started getting up, some stopping to grab something off the refreshment table, some stopping to chat, and some filtering out quickly. He took the moment to stop Julian, try to catch up with the younger man. He had tried to be available any chance he could be over the past few weeks for Julian, but he knew that he hadn’t given him all the support he probably should have been. Wasn’t checking in so much, wasn’t attentive. “Hey man, how you been?” A small smile stretched across his face. “I feel like I haven’t been around so much lately, I just wanted to make sure we had a chance to check in, catch up, you know?”
Julian had slipped in a routine, something he had always rejected the idea of. Rehab taught him that a routine was good, it was important, it was the foundation of a healthy life. He hated it. He woke up, he went to work, he went to meetings, he did it all over again. He felt like the world turned around him at a maddening pace while he stood stagnant. He got the feeling that Quinn was avoiding him in the beginning of the month, but in all honesty, he was the one avoiding Quinn now. It was easy to put on a smile and talk his way out of difficult questions with people who didn’t understand, but it was hard to pretend like everything was okay to someone who knew better.
When Quinn ended the meeting, Julian looked down at the million pieces of paper in his hands that was once a cup. He winced at himself and tried to clean it up quickly so he could slip out unnoticed. He wasn’t quick enough. He stared at the trashcan for a beat longer than necessary before he turned to his sponsor, a smile at the ready for him. “Yeah, sure,” Julian nodded, his fingers pulling at the ends of his long hair. It was almost to his shoulders now. He should cut it. He didn’t want to, but he should. “I’ve been good,” he replied, his head bobbing with a nod. “Great. Really building a solid client base again at work, so mostly...” He picked at his eyebrow. “Doing that. All the time. It’s cool, man. Doing my thing.” Stop talking. “I, uh... How’re you? Busy?”
joeyeames:
“We could do dueling pianos,” she said, a mischievous grin stretched across her face. “Okay, bass and keyboard, you’ve got your choice there. But once you’ve got the accordion down, that’s the only thing your playing. We’re going to embrace the polka or zydeco feel after that.” Maybe it was just the fact that Joey had been in a rut, and was just trying to get back into music that made the hypothetical talks about a band turn into a reality, or at least an attempt at making it a reality. She had missed having one for a long time. But she liked Julian, he was the type of energy that she liked having around.
She laughed, giving a small roll of her eyes. “Okay, no, but maybe you’re trying to hide the fact that you’re like super into metal. I can’t take my chances. Totally not my aesthetic.” She nodded as he described his taste. “Fuck yes,” she said with a smile. “Okay, so we’re in agreement on that. I love music that’s deceptive about its heartbreak and anger. You can tell who really fucking listens.”
“That makes sense,” he nodded seriously. “Everyone needs a fucking gimmick these days. Ours will for sure be my beautiful accordion.” He leaned back and took a hit of his vape pen, staring at the ceiling thoughtfully. It had been a while since he’d been creative with music, and he was surprised at the emotions attached to kicking that back up. “I’m a little rusty,” he warned, “I haven’t really written anything since I stopped doing drugs, so here’s hoping talent wasn’t a side effect of heroin.”
He leaned forward and fished out his phone, flicking through it until he found something he wrote worth sharing. “I dunno if you wanna claim writing lyrics, but I do that, too, so.” He shrugged and handed the phone to Joey, ignoring the regret that immediately pooled into his stomach. He hated this part of being an artist, putting himself on display for other people. “Lie to me,” he commanded. “I am fragile.”
quinn-hawthorne:
Quinn felt some guilt sink into his stomach as Julian mentioned his birth mom, thinking about Mason and his own struggles with it over his own son. But he nodded. “It’s not fair,” he said simply. “That you’ve had this coming from all angles. But, you’re working on it, you’re trying to come out of it, and that matters.” He sighed, and crossed his arms across his chest, leaning back in his seat. “I wish there was one too, it’d make things a lot easier, a lot less distressing. You know, I’ve told you that relapses can happen, but that doesn’t totally diminish the progress you’ve made, not really. As long as you don’t stop trying, you’ll come out of it for the better. And fuck anyone that makes you feel like they’re just waiting for you to fuck up. I know that look, and I know that feeling. It sucks, and it makes it that much easier to give into it. You don’t have to be proud of yourself, or see it as some kind of feat, if you don’t feel that way. But, it is a really amazing thing. Just keep at it, a day at a time.”
He gave Julian a small smile. He admired the guy, it was a big deal, even if he didn’t see it, even if he didn’t feel it. “Don’t apologize.” He tried to keep his tone light, but wanted to maintain a sense of sincerity. “These conversations suck, they’re shitty, but you got to have them with someone. I’m here for you, man. Whatever you need, whatever you want to say, I’m here for that. You want to be angry, you want to be sad, you want to be happy, it doesn’t matter. I’m your sponsor, but we’re friends. I don’t get scared by this shit, and I’m not going to let you feel like you’re alone in this.”
Julian nodded as Quinn spoke. The words were comforting, but he hated how even with his sponsor, there was always the whisper of relapses being inevitable. He knew it was good to be realistic, to not have impossible expectations of himself, but he never liked proving people right. “Time takes time,” Julian replied with a sigh, a half smile tugging at his lips at one of the many cheesy sayings NA and AA meetings had. Feeling like he could say anything around Quinn, he hunched over and ran a hand through his hair before he let out a breathy laugh. “Fuck, I miss drugs. None of the assholes at the fancy California rehab told me I’d miss it this much.”
He rubbed his face hard before he shook himself out of it and physically waved away the conversation. “Who cares, though. Get back to your heap of shit,” he teased, nodding towards the lump of clay. “You’re a troubled, self loathing, very aware, recovering addict. You were born to be an artist. Make your fuckin’ vase.”
alli-pellisier:
How much smaller could the town get? Allison wasn’t sure but she could have cursed whatever cruel but savvy God was doing this to her. On the one hand, she was relieved that Julian had joined the side of people in her life who didn’t give a damn about the founding family nonsense, but on the other of all the other connections Julian could have invisibly had with her, he was Quinn’s sponsee? She could feel a twang of pain in her temples as she took in the news. It wasn’t something Quinn had to explicitly share with her, but she almost wish he had. “How’s that going for you?” Allison managed to muster out, though not in a judgemental way what so ever, she was genuinely curious. She knew everyone in the world had some kind of vice, a demon to chase and Julian was prey to one of the darker ones but she still viewed him as the eccentrically chaotic spirit that never made her turn the other cheek.
Ushering him over to the newly renovated living room with bare walls, she brandished her hands to give him the lay of the land. “Your pieces are the first to be up in these walls. I’m sure it’ll be the exact pizzazz we need.” She said with a small smile. “Got a Venmo by the way?”
“Sobriety or Quinn sponsoring me?” Julian checked, but he didn’t wait for her to specify before he launched into an answer. “Sobriety sucks, Allijamin, I must be honest with you. You have to listen to your head noise all the time and it’s very overrated, but so is dying in a gutter. Poe is the only person who managed to make that look kinda cool, and even he got shit on posthumously by his enemies. So head noise it is. Quinn’s fucking awesome as a sponsor, though. Really tolerant of me calling him whenever I feel like it. My own mothers aren’t even that chill.”
He looked around the vast walls of the manor and felt like he was in another world. He had seen stuff like this in the movies, but it was different seeing it up close. Despite Sunstone always being close and the residents closer, Julian wasn’t ever tripping over himself to get a look inside. He blinked when she asked him a question, bringing him out of his rather rude thoughts. “Huh? Oh yeah. It’s snakeb0y411. The o in boy is a zero,” he replied casually. He pulled out the canvases from his bag and rested them against the wall. “I’d say maybe six hundred for the three? I think that’s fair.”
joeyeames:
Location: Joey’s Garage
@julianeldridge
Joey was sprawled out on the cement, her legs hooked up onto the couch cushion. Call it what you wanted, but this was typically the state Joey found herself in when she put herself into any kind of creative mode. She’d been in a funk lately, though. The time of year, maybe, not really getting out as much as she would have preferred normally. But she had Julian to at least bounce ideas off of now. They’d talked about a band off and on, something Joey missed having, but it really had been hypothetical. But even in theory, it had gotten her excited again, getting to actually work on shit and have someone to push her into it.
“What do you play?” she said, looking up at him from her place on the ground. Her head was racing a million miles a minute of everything they could do, write, play, all the questions for a set up. After a moment, trying to focus her brain on one question at a time, she swung her legs off the couch, and sat up. “What kind of music do you want to play? I don’t do metal, I tried that once, wasn’t for me. So, while I’m open, if you come to me with something like that, I’m kicking you out of this band already.”
“The thing I’m best at is piano and bass,” Julian replied before he made a face. “Keyboard sounds cooler, so we’ll go with that. I play some guitar, some drums. I’m in the middle of mastering the accordion, so jot that down.” It had been a long time since Julian took music seriously. He and his ex had written music together all the time, and without her, he wasn’t sure if he wanted to venture back to it, but Joey made him a little excited about it again. “This is going to make me sound like an asshole, but I can usually figure out whatever you put in front of me.”
He laughed and crossed his legs on the couch, his hands folded in his lap as he looked at her indignantly. “Do I look like I make metal music? I dunno if I should be offended or not, but I am leaning towards offense.” He ran a hand through his hair and shrugged. “I like punk, but more folk-y. Happy music but angry words, you know? It’s interesting.”
charleyforest:
Julian was one of the few people that Charley really had loved. In her own way, maybe. She never knew how to show it, and it turned into a mess, just as it usually did. She hadn’t expected a happy reunion, she knew that even if there hadn’t been the drugs, and Charley hadn’t done everything to in her power to keep Julian by her side while she was here the first time around. She had still left. After everything, it was selfish to expect anything but the awkward, standoffish nature of it all. But, Charley was selfish. She always had been. But she still felt the distance he was trying to hold start to slip away, and it was a relief.
“I’m not here to mess all that up for you, it’s fucking good.” She didn’t want to mention her own state of affairs when it came to drugs, alcohol. Maybe she didn’t use as much as she used to when she was still here, but she wasn’t clean, and had no interest in becoming so. But, after only just sensing the ease between them shift, it wasn’t worth mentioning. She laughed at his comment. “Oh please. If I was a clone, would I have been this brazen in coming over here?” She widened her eyes, exaggerating an intense gaze, shifting almost too naturally. “My creator thanks you for your understanding of clones rights. You will be spared in the Clone Revolution.”
Julian was still wary of her, but he had to admit that he was curious about how much his personality had changed since becoming sober. He wasn’t one for social experiments, especially when it came to his life, but he couldn’t help but wonder if they would get along as easy as they used to without the drugs. He wanted to trust that she would respect him, and he hoped she’d stick to his word. His resolve was still thin, even with his six month chip sitting in his wallet.
“Thank fuck,” he murmured with a hand going over his heart. “You’re good. I almost believed you were Charley there. I swear your secret is safe with me.” He leaned closer, the corner of his mouth pulling up in a wry grin as his voice dropped. “I’m really sorry you got her, though. Terrible luck considering she’s the absolute worst.” He pushed himself back into his seat and raised his coffee cup to his lips, his voice loud with his next words. “How are you, person who is most definitely Charley Forest? I trust that you are not living in a shitty apartment like me?”
alli-pellisier:
location: Hawthorne Manor w/ @julianeldridge It’d been a couple weeks since Allison had seen Julian. With her workload getting increasingly heavier as well as the blowout with the Abernathy Will, when she had just a moment to herself, she would be entertained by Julian’s welcome yet often chaotically random text messages (one that involved whether or not she knew what redneck spaghetti was). Sometimes they were random questions, sometimes they were cryptic images, but then when he sent the final proof of her “surprise me” piece that she’d commissioned weeks ago, she was completely over the moon with it and wanted a special delivery. She texted the man the address, and then immediately worried about the repercussions. Even as much as she knew the man tried to stay away from anything too mainstream, she couldn’t deny that there was probably no one else in the town who didn’t already know about her true identity of being a Hawthorne. She wondered if this fact would alter the way he felt about her, if their friendship was doomed from the start, but she knew she had to try. When she saw him heading for the front doors, she brandished the doors open and gave him a feeble smile. “I know you were expecting a penthouse but uh, I kind of upgraded. There’s a lot of weird knick-knacks here too if you want dibs.”
While finding out that Alli was a Hawthorne had been a surprise, Julian couldn’t say that he understood what the huge deal was. Despite living in Redwood Bay since he was nine, he was never able to keep up with the ways of the natives, for lack of a better term. The whole founding family bullshit seemed archaic to him. Still, it was something else skidding to a stop on his bike in front of the old Abernathy manor. He blew air out of his cheeks before he dismounted and adjusted the bag over his shoulder that held the three canvases he made for her. He chewed on his thumbnail as he walked towards the large front doors and jumped when they swung open, revealing her.
“No, I was expecting this,” he murmured, glancing around the grand foyer before he could stop himself. He picked up an umbrella with a brass snake for a handle and twirled it in his hands as he pursed his lips. “Don’t tell anyone that you’re not going on my shit list for being rich,” he told her, finally looking over at her with his eyebrows raised in warning. “I have a reputation, and I can’t have Redwood Bay’s finest fuckin’ that up.” His serious expression melted into a crooked smile as he pointed the umbrella at her like it was an extension of his arm. “Your brother is my sponsor, by the way. Sort of bums me out that we would have met eventually and fate wasn’t on my side.”
frankieblackwood:
“Oh, I know how that movie is called: Francesca Blackwood’s life,” she chuckled and shook her head. She did realize how pitiful and slightly ungrateful she sounded, all in all, she still had a shitload of money more than most people and while some would say that money doesn’t bring you happiness, she would definitely tell them they were buying their weed from a cheap dealer. “Letting my mom choose shit for me takes the weight and I know she’ll choose someone handsome because she is as shallow as they come,” the brunette shrugged and wrapped her lips around the straw on her milkshake, taking a hefty sip and enjoying the momentary brain-freeze. “What would you do in my place? Let her have her fun, or behave inappropriately with every suitor that comes my way? Or both?”
"I couldn’t even imagine being in your place,” Julian replied with a small laugh, crossing his arms as he observed her. It was impossible not to know who Frankie was in Redwood, and she didn’t need to give him too much detail for him to understand enough about how the Blackwood’s worked. “If my moms tried to do that shit to me I’d be whatever about it,” he decided after a moment of thought. “But that’s only because there isn’t a person I haven’t been in love with for at least five minutes, so there’s that. Also, the money.” He gave her a look. “I’m a poor bastard -- literally -- living in a capitalist world. I’d just fucking do it.”
charleyforest:
The hesitation in Julian’s voice didn’t slip by Charley, but she chose to accept it as an awkward reunion after three years without a word. That, she could accept. There was no hesitation to sit as soon as he gave her a vague, half-assed okay. She slid into the seat across from him, and set her drink down before really looking him over. The same kid that she’d bonded with back when they were both too new to really mesh with all the townie kids, sat in front of her after a lifetime of her fuck ups. The last time they’d seen each other, they’d both been strung out, and then she left without a word. But, now? He looked good, healthy.
Clean. The word rattled around her head, banging around to nail it in. “Okay, straight to the point. That’s great, Julian. I’m happy for you.” She smiled at him, warm and friendly. It didn’t feel right to say she was proud of him, it’d be hypocritical. “I’m not holding. I’m not going to be an asshole about it.” She sighed, her own face falling a bit. She couldn’t blame him for the dig, he was being honest. She’d played a big role in getting him fucked up for so long, how could he not be nervous around her? At his mention of France she nodded. “I did for a bit. There were a few pit stops over there, but I just wandered around all over. No murders, at least that I’ll willingly admit to. No, I don’t know, I just missed being home. Fucked, right?”
There had been a point in time where he’d been a little in love with Charley. That alone didn’t make her special -- Julian was a little in love with everyone who showed him an ounce of kindness, no matter how toxic that was -- but she was so tangled up in the shit that almost killed him that she stood out from the rest. He had mixed feelings about seeing her again. His forefront emotion was that he was happy she was alive, so he decided to take a chance and focus on that one. When she smiled at him, the standoffish way he sat melted off, and he couldn’t help but return it.
“My sponsor thanks you,” he snorted. “Another day, another night without a three A.M. phone call from me is a great night for everyone.” His eyebrows shot up and he looked around the coffee shop in confusion. “You missed here? Fuck. You did kill someone.” He laughed slightly as he adjusted in his seat to face her more, eyeing her skeptically. “Or someone killed you and you’re a clone. Push up your eyeball, lemme see if I can find some 6th Day shit on you. You’re no Arnold Schwarzenegger, but I could see why someone would do it.” He held up his hands defensively. “And, hey, I’m all for clones rights, so don’t freak out on me. I’ll debate the morality around your right to exist all day every day.”
quinn-hawthorne:
Quinn let out a laugh, before nodding. “Okay, fine. You’re right. Fuck art.” He took Julian’s words in, accepting it. “That’s something I need to get better at, you’re right. It’s just art, who gives a shit?” His smile widened, and he nodded. It was still a strange feeling when he thought about it. For years he’d been killing himself, and almost completed the task too many times. Nothing had seemed to matter. And maybe, everyone was dying, and in the grand scheme of things, shit didn’t matter. But, knowing that he wasn’t actively working to kill himself anymore, it was a good feeling. “God, that dying slowly thing. It feels fucking great, doesn’t it?”
At Julian’s question, Quinn sighed. He wanted to say that it would be just a little while longer, and then those urges would just disappear, or have some trick that just made that shit disappear that would help. He took drag from his cigarette, before setting it down in the ashtray. He leaned in, resting his elbows on his legs. “I’ll be real with you, because I wish someone had been when I was first getting sober. But I don’t know that you’re going to like the answer.” he finally said. “You’re not crazy. I still have those thoughts. Maybe not as much as I used to, or maybe I just learned to kind of tune them out better. There are going to be days down the line that are going to be so fucking easy. I know I’ve said that at meetings, and it’s true. But, most days, even years down the line, that urge runs in the background. Constantly. Sometimes you can tune it out, or sort of forget that it’s there. And for the most part, the smaller shit will stop having as big of an effect on you, but it doesn’t mean it stops completely. And that thought in the back of your mind will creep up and suddenly you spill some water and you’re just like ‘Fuck, I need a hit.’ All this shit, me trying new things, it wasn’t like it came easily, or I was able to brush it off. There’s plenty of shit that I dropped because it was so frustrating and stressful that I knew it wasn’t going to be good for me. It’s a really fucking hard process. This is new, and you’re doing a fucking amazing job.”
Julian made a face of disgust when Quinn told him what he suspected. He knew he needed to hear it, especially because he didn’t want to, but it didn’t make it suck any less. He wished more than anything that he had never tried drugs and stuck to alcohol like a normal person, but he knew he didn’t have to say that to Quinn. The guy just got it.
“My birth mom was an addict, too,” he started, his fingers fidgeting with his pencil. He still couldn’t really look people in the eye when he talked about this sort of stuff, but it was easy with Quinn. He felt like he could tell the other man things he couldn’t even tell his own therapist. “I don’t blame or for my shit or anything, never really did outside of the whole it’s genetic bullshit, but... I dunno. I could never understand how she could love drugs more than she loved me.” He paused before he shrugged. “Then I loved drugs and I got it. Still do.” He shook his head and looked back down at his mass of scribbles before he started doodling gaping eyes. “I just wish there was an off switch, man. I want to be proud of myself like everyone else is, but I don’t think I can be just yet. Six months isn’t shit compared to other people. Everyone looks at me like they’re just waiting for me to fuck up, then my brain is like, oh shit, you’re sad, go buy drugs, so I guess I’m waiting for it, too.” He sighed and looked back up at Quinn with disdain. “I hate this conversation. Fuck.” He let out a small laugh. “Sorry for bringing it up.”
frankieblackwood:
may 16th, 2020 — at north star diner in mcloughlin park.
open starter to everyone @redwoodstarter ( 0/4 ).
“I came to the conclusion that life is meaningless and nothing ever makes sense,” Frankie said defeated, staring at her laptop screen with some noodles hanging from her mouth. She didn’t even want to know what would happen if her parents saw her looking disheveled the way she was looking, wearing sweats and with a messy hair as if she had just rolled out of bed and ended up there. Those days just happened for her, they were nothing out of the ordinary for Francesca, every once in a while she felt way too despondent for her own good and that day in particular, probably due to the recent events in town and in her life, she was particularly feeling like giving up. “So what if I’m twenty-six, I could go back to live with my parents just so I don’t have to go to law school right? And so what if my mom wants to put me in an arranged marriage, loads of women out there have it worst without complaining, I could do— I probably did worse than what my mom is gonna hook me up with,” her ramblings and her manners were definitely not those of a Blackwood, which was one of the reasons why she hid away in a part of town no one could really notice her behaving in the least Blackwood way.
Julian blinked at Frankie as she ranted, the only sign he was listening was a single quirked eyebrow. He looked down at his burger for a moment and then looked back up at her in confusion. “Do you ever have one of those moments where you feel like you got too high, found a time machine set to take you to the fifties, and tripped into it? Because I’m feeling like this is one of those moments.” He took a drink of his soda. “I dig the nihilism, because you’re right -- who cares? So what. We’re all gonna die. You might as well die rich and married or something, I guess.”
i always look sleep deprived is that hot
graysoneldridge:
kaiyaeldridge:
There as a small chance that Kai and Julian would let up just a smidge while Grayson was in recovery to allow him some time to rest, but even if they didn’t mean to make his stress levels go up, they probably would anyway. “Oh, buddy, I have a whole week at home with you and you think you’ll get away with not listening to my sales pitch for Amway, Avon, and Isagenix? You’re crazy,” Kai grinned, throwing out a few of the MLM names she’d looked up on a passing thought. “And whoa, okay, bro. Only one of us morons is sitting in a hospital bed right now, so how about fuck you.” Her attention had now turned to Julian instead, Grayson getting a moment to be spared. “If you think moms aren’t going to record the clip of me saving lives on the news to play at every family gathering, you’re fucking mistaken.” Kaiya may have been the one that had insisted they do just that, but that was a fact she felt acceptable to leave out. “I get extra bonus points because it was Angel too. Moms love him.”
“Isa - what?” Grayson asked, his mind already reeling from all the multilevel marketing companies that Kaiya had just referenced. Grayson stayed quiet as his siblings bantered and argued over who was the biggest failure in this moment. It was slightly amusing, especially since their attention was focused on each other instead of on Grayson. His muscles relaxed as he released some of the tension that had been building. “Okay, as much as I’m enjoying this, I have to prepare for some final tests before I can be discharged. “I think Angel is awake, if you want to pass through and visit him. But if not, Kaiya you can torment me first thing this evening once Moms brings me home. Julian… I guess if you must, you can come over too,” Grayson added, with feigned disdain for the plan. His siblings knew that he loved them, but they had a tendency to drive him up a wall. “And then in a week, once everything goes well, I’ll be back to normal. And both of you can keep throwing punches.”
“I’m sorry, I can’t hear your excuses over the roar of the wind. Higher ground is fucking nice -- what a goddamn view,” Julian laughed and folded his arms over his chest in a triumphant flourish. His eyes flicked back to Grayson and he let out a sigh before he pushed himself out of the chair. “I’m leaving, but only because I can’t handle being yelled at by doctors. I’ve been through enough and this whole ordeal has been very traumatic for me. I will be coming over to see you in a more appropriate setting, thank you for the invitation into our mothers’ home.” He flipped his hair and held his head high. “I must attend to other matters. I have a new job of being the responsible Eldridge now and I plan to milk this for all it’s worth. Thank you for your service.” He walked backwards to the door and saluted to his siblings before he left.