not everyone can say they’ve been to the big apple, but kieran maddox, a 25 year-old male has lived in queens for his entire life. this is the city of dreams and he knows it, because they came to nyc to be a bartender. well, that and as an employee to bea torres. living in the city means they meet all kinds of people, but everyone always seems to think they look like jacob elordi. they even got away with free cab fare once because of it!
[nick, 24, gmt-3, he/him]
(tw: abuse, violence, terminal illness)
born and raised in nyc
kieran has always had a difficult relationship with his parents, especially his father – an absent, unloving alcoholic whose addiction sometimes resulted in physical abuse towards him and his mother
his mother is a loving, hardworking woman, albeit sometimes emotionally distant
not the easiest child as well. despite his intelligence and academic promise, kieran was always more directed towards music and painting
no one really motivated him to do what he loved. neither of his parents really understood his passion for art and almost always tried to suppress it and make him a more practical-minded man (which he’s sort of become). he never really stopped working on artistic projects, but at a certain point in his life they just became less of a priority
the loneliness of his home environment led him to become independent at a very young age. he is very self-sufficient, but also quite lonely
his relationship with his father caused him to positively despise any and all forms of authority figures
his parents were never married, but his father started showing up and supporting them less and less when he was around 10
kieran has done a bit of everything to help makes end meet. mostly, he worked as a mechanic and a bartender, though he did have a run in with the police before for drug possession
kieran deals on the side from time to time to make a little extra cash
kieran was accepted into NYU for their business program, and despite taking a loan, he eventually dropped out due to several reasons
recently his mother found out she was sick and the expensive treatment led him to focus on his work so he could help her afford it
got into an awful fight with his father about money for his mother’s medical bills.
is really unhappy with where he’s at rn, feeling lost and lonely and just desperate to find some meaning to his life. today, he works as a bartender and dealer on the side. kind of trying to focus a bit on painting and writing now, but has no muse for it either.
...
sad-bad boy™
kieran just feels generally neglected and is a little terrified with the whole situation with him mom
he has quite a hard time opening up
honest to a fault
very loyal and caring
i don’t look for trouble, trouble looks for me
was raised catholic (might be interesting for plot purposes)
The martini glass clinked down on the counter at the precise moment Valley sat at the bar. It was clockwork, how smooth and easy this had become. She didn’t have a routine, an exact day or time she’d come to the Phoenix, but she always seemed to catch Kieran anyway. And she’d made very certain that he’d catch her too, every time. He leaned down, and she beamed up, raising her glass to him and taking a sip, never breaking contact with the darkness of his eyes.
“Perfect, as always,” she said, either of the drink or of him, who could tell? “I know, it’s been ages, I keep having dinner meetings with people from nonprofits, who you’d think would be nicer, given their line of work, but they’re complete snobs just like everyone else.” The irony of this statement, coming from a woman wearing a Valentino dress to a music hall in Brooklyn, was entirely lost on her at the moment. “How’s your life, though? Are you doing okay? Need anything?”
-–
In the 13 or so months Kieran and Valley had known each other, he never seemed to grasp the totality of what her line of work entailed. He knew a lot of money was involved, opulent dinners with high profiling characters and important negotiations about finance and transactions, in the most lavish events – but things always seemed to become a little too blurry when she got into specifics like the whats and the hows. Still, Kieran genuinely enjoyed hearing about her run-ins with the rich and powerful – mostly of whom he considered to be meritless white trash (with a few exceptions, like herself, who happened to be one of his favorite rich people out there) – as though he was watching a brand new episode of Succession firsthand. So, he couldn't help hiding the smirk that colored his features as she spoke of her snob philanthropist friends – the hypocrisy humored him more than it probably should.
Meanwhile, Kieran's updates always involved some sort of close run-in with the police, or some altercation he had had to separate at the bar – less comedic, more on the what-the-fuck?!-y. Still, he tried to face them with some sense of humor – or whatever people called the sadistic snark that stuck to his every word like tar. "Well, you know, same old. The trials and tribulations of a college dropout who works at a bar and deals on the side." He finished it with a shrug, like it was the most banal thing in the world. "And no, don't need anything. Your company is all a person can ask for." There was boyish playfulness in his voice and in the wink that followed. He really enjoyed this little game they played – it was probably one of the best parts of the job. "Oh, wanna know something fun?" His tone maintained the banal casualness, purposefully mismatching the seriousness of what he was about to tell her "A few weeks ago, I found out I have a brother."
Ever since Rhett had purposefully overdosed, he had been trying to do better with things. Trying was the key word. However, he believed that now that he was living with Rylan, he was just better at hiding things. He didn’t like worrying her. Or anyone. So he just made sure to keep things even more to himself ever than before. It was hard. She and Nate liked to check on him more than anyone in his life ever had. But he was figuring it out. Luckily, she was out and about or at least busy with other things so he didn’t have to come up with a lot of excuses. That was a plus.
Rhett still didn’t have a job. He would sometimes work under the table where he could but it wasn’t enough to cover his habit. There was no doubt about that. Rhett was at the point in his addiction where he wasn’t even getting high to be high anymore. He was just using to survive. One would think that would be the thing that would make him want to quit. But all it did was scare him more. The fact that he was so dependent on this fucking drug…he was afraid to give it up.
In order for him to get what he needed, Rhett would often do whatever he had to (except ask Rylan for money. He couldn’t dare do that). It wasn’t something he proud of. In fact, it really embarassed him. He didn’t like trading sexual favors to whatever creepy fuck wanted them for some smack that was probably laced with something. But it was all he could do. Rhett couldn’t keep a job. He was too doped out for it. So until he could find the willpower to fucking quit, this was what he had to do.
After spending a couple hours in some seedy, disgusting hotel in Chinatown, Rhett grabbed the bag he came with and shoved the baggie he received deep inside it before he threw on his shoes and hoodie. The Brit threw his hood up and stepped outside, beginning on his way. He wiped at his eyes and ran his hand along the under side of his nose, minding his own business, when he heard his name. His brow furrowed and he looked up, spotting his friend (and dealer when he actually had money) Kieran, “Oh…K-Kieran. Hey, mate. What are you uh…what are you doing here?”
-—
Unaffected was a good adjective to describe Kieran's usual temperament. Sure, he was prone to random bursts of violence when provoked and he was frequently overtaken by this insurmountable sadness that lied under the surface – but over all, Kieran always seemed, at least, very calm and collected about most things. But somehow, the whole portrait of Rhett – pale cheeks and weary eyes against pasty, moldy walls, and dull yellow lights – left him discombobulated. Speechless. And as much as he rejoiced in long silences, there was something suffocating about the quietude that dominated the air all of a sudden. There was only so much he turn a blind eye to...
He hadn't seen Rhett in a while – between tending to his mother's needs and working a full-time job and side-hustle, Kieran didn't have much energy, or will, to hang out with his friends. But last time they had met, he seemed well: living with Rylan, still close to Nate, people who loved him and that he could count on. People who wouldn't let anything bad happen to him. So... what the fuck had happened in the meantime? The answer was obvious, stamped all across Rhett's face. And yet, Kieran couldn't not let himself accept it. Denial was the easiest pill to swallow, so he overdosed in it. And he did it because it was better than accepting that his friend was walking around a seedy Chinatown motel like a ghost thanks to the shit he sold. And then the pretty little lie he often told himself came back around in a whisper – he wasn't at fault. He was just the messenger... Moreover, how long had it been since he'd last dealt to Rhett? Weeks? Months?
But Kieran had been catechized. He knew, under God's watchful eye, that his actions had consequences. And there they were. He knew of Rhett's problems with drugs. He had known for a long time. And he had never done anything to help. So he could lie to himself all he wanted – tell it a thousand, a million times, even. And no matter how much he deluded himself into thinking it was credible, he would never be able to rest his head down on his pillow and fall asleep peacefully after a long day of work. Kieran was the villain of his own narrative, his own personal devil. And though his lies might convince others – they would never fool the father of lies himself. Still, he repeated the mantra on and on. He breathed in deep. He boxed his anxiety and silenced the guilt in his head until he could think again.
"I– I'm working." He snapped out of the daze, finally able to articulate a two words into a sentence. "Are you here to... buy?" The drugs they sold there were the worst, cheapest stuff they had. Kieran had worked that place before and goodness it was fucking degrading. "You– I thought you were living with Rylan and shit..." Immediately, Kieran felt himself wanting to turn around, walk away from there and take Rhett along with him.
tay: idk how i feel abt Theo and like if its gonna be weird
tay: about keys?
tay: what's up buttercup
kieran: i mean, i wouldn't worry about weird bc there's weirder stuff in the book
kieran: but really, i can't tell u how theo's gonna react, but he's a nice guy, he'll probably come around to it eventually
kieran: i mean if you and keys are a thing, then you're a thing. end of discussion i guess?
kieran: so, like this isn't the best means to tell u this and u have to keep it between us until i actually tell him cause i just found out about it like two days ago and i don't think it's something i should tell him over a text message
kieran: but i was at my dad's the other night (don't ask how or why) and i was going through his shit (also don't ask how or why)
kieran: i found out he had another son and that son is keys..
One of Kieran's most vivid childhood memories was this video where a woman drove 3 other versions of herself down a snowy road screaming her lungs out about rain on a wedding day. It was María Isabel's all time favorite song, and it taught a lesson about how life has a funny way of sneaking up on you. "God really does act in mysterious ways..." She would whisper while humming the lyrics.
That Sunday afternoon, as he found himself frozen in time in a corridor at Mount Sinai looking directly at Celestia, Kieran couldn't help the words to the song coming back to him – isn't it ironic? A little too ironic indeed...
Ordinarily, he would have no business there – an elite hospital in the middle of Manhattan whose treatment he and his mother were obviously unable to afford – had it not been for his mother's request that he delivered some flowers to one of her support group friends, who was treated by one of their oncologists. And, ironically enough, out of all people he could have crossed paths with on his way out, there was Celestia.
In a second that seemed like a whole hour, he stared at her quietly, deadly silence right in the middle of the world's loudest city. It was more surprise than hesitation – a certain resistance to believing his eyes. No fucking way. But oh, the sweet, sadistic irony. It must have been funny – in the awkwardest sense – to whatever entity had put them together there, alone, to watch. "Hey." It was the first thing he told her in months of not speaking to each other. Monosyllabic words rarely had any meaning, but that was not the case. His nonchalant, unaffected greeting incapsulated the ghost of a friendship that once was – shared secrets and inside jokes and mutual affection, all gone. Reduced to a mere syllable as though it had never been.
It wasn’t the most common thing for Blake to see a smile come from Kieran but she never judged him for that. The fact the man was able to get up and put one foot in front of the other everyday was impressive to her, let alone adding being jolly into the equation. To contend with the burden he had sitting on his shoulders every time he opened his eyes? Well, she couldn’t even imagine. Six weeks had practically been the undoing of her so she had no idea how he coped with everything so well. The baker saw through his exterior to the person who was underneath because occasionally she got a rare glimpse of him when his lips would change into a small smile or his eyes would fill with that softness she knew was deep down inside. She considered herself lucky to be able to play a part in his life, causing him to smile at any point in it? Well that was just a bonus to her.
Smiling back when their eyes met she then looked down at her huge bump, letting out a small laugh. “Eight months, well eight months and a week actually if we’re being super specific. I’m alright delivering the small things but it’s the big orders that sometimes cause a bit more of a problem.” The offer to help was a welcome one, so unnecessary, but just another sign of how good the man in front of her was. The little things added up. “Thanks, that’s so sweet of you. I…honestly I might take you up on that at some point because I have a wedding cake that needs to be delivered at the end of the week and…well I can’t really carry it myself so…” Chuckling slightly. “I was going to ask them to come and pick it up actually, or get a courier service to do it, otherwise I run the risk of dropping it on the sidewalk which I don’t think they’d be very pleased with a squished cake.” Plus she would never give someone a sub standard product, all she had was her reputation after all.
“Sure, one glass of water coming up!” Heading into the kitchen she grabbed a glass from where it was drying on the draining board and took the water filter out of the fridge. Guests didn’t get tap water - they got the good stuff. “Here you go. Let me just go and grab the box from the other room so I can make sure it will travel alright. Don’t want your mom getting it in bits.” Especially Maria Isabel, she deserved nothing short of perfection. “Have you had a busy day?” She called out to make conversation as she popped into the other room.
-—
Vocalizing feelings or performing grand gestures of love wasn't much like Kieran. Since childhood his mother would recall him demonstrating his love though discreet unspoken acts – service, time, gifts, for which he wouldn't even accept the barest recognition. 'Thank you, sweetheart.' his mother would say, just to have him look up – a strangeness in his eyes, as if he didn't know what she was referring to. Likewise, his face remained unstimulated when she complimented the sweetness of his offer – which had probably been the first time he had ever heard anyone, besides María Isabel call him that – it was the only way he knew how to express his gratitude. Not just for the cake, but for all the care she'd shown towards them during the last few months. Plus, regardless of his infinitesimal knowledge in the do's and do-not's of maternity, he was pretty certain at that point in her pregnancy, she could use some rest. "Just text me the details and I'll be here". Kieran's side gig had made him quite the efficient delivery man: careful, agile and always right on time.
He downed the water in seconds, beastly quenching the thirst the speedy ride there had provoked – almost rudely, like a child who had spent the whole afternoon in the sun, running around. If María had been there, she most certainly would have slapped her back with a little more power people might give her credit for and whispered through her teeth 'Have some manners. I didn't raise an animal.' Reminding himself of the manners she had taught him, he held back the sigh that usually follows the hydration of a dry throat. "Thank you." He rested the glass on the counter, feeling the imaginary, self-imposed disapproval fade – although he wasn't the type to care much about manners, he had felt, as of late, a strange attachment to his mother's customs and mannerisms.
If he were to be honest – which he very rarely was – his day had gone quite uneventful. Whenever his mother had chemo sessions, Kieran avoided doing anything else. He didn't deal, he didn't go back to his own place... He even called in sick so that he could sleep over at her place if she needed – which she rarely did. Still, those days felt like the most exasperating ones. He'd go to bed – or rather, he'd go to the couch completely overtaken by fatigue, tired out of his wits, unable to think straight. Sometimes sketching helped. Sometimes punching the walls until his knuckles bled helped. But most times, nothing helped. So he would just sit on the couch, alone in the wee hours of the morning, staring out the window – unable to find peace, or even a few minutes' rest. But no one would ever know that. Like Delilah never knew, like Celestia never knew... He'd just bottle it in and keep the nonchalant, unaffected façade, because that was what he did. No matter how tired he was. "Not really... I just hung out with my mom a bit. Then, she had chemo, so I waited at the hospital and came back to her place with her." His voice terrifyingly unfazed by the agony that marred his heart. "She's resting. She comes home all worn out and shit, so I sort of like to give her some privacy." Ironically that richness of detail was reserved to very few people. And knowing Blake knew exactly what it was to watch her most loved relative succumb to an illness, he found some comfort in confiding in her. "You, on the other hand..." He let his gaze wander a bit, "You're working full speed, like a baby couldn't just pop out of you at any time." He meant no harm with the comment, it was more sarcastic mockery than anything. Even in humor Kieran could be a little blunt.
THEO: what ur saying, and what I'm hearing is, I work for you, sexually! 😏😏😏😏😏
THEO: instant regret, but a blissful 40 minutes, gives or take 10, that ends with a la petite mort, and me forever engraved in ur memory.
THEO: this Is where I divert from my usual one track mind, and say something other than you, right??
THEO: oh violence, jokes on you baby, I prefer physical violence to verbal, actually that’s a lie, I’m all for being degraded, so keep up with the threats baby, you’re only getting me hot all under the collar.
THEO: we'll see! I got an imagination! and with your permission, all I gotta do is close my eyes to objectify you.
KIERAN: what i'm saying is: the analogy works for me, what you're interpreting is up to you
KIERAN: burgers it is then
KIERAN: that's a weird thing to say but i guess you do you
For someone so terribly chaotic, it was fair to say that Kieran found method to his madness every now and then. If he were a fit for the word "cute", it could even be said that it was cute how he had organized everything for Nate: lined up different types of liquors, all sorts of glasses, and all the in-betweens – lemon zests, olives, cardamom and whatnot. When it came to tending, Kieran really did prize having a cleaned-up environment so he could work as dynamically as possible. And there it was, his workspace set like the worst case OCD he had ever seen. Most of it was for educational purposes, though. Which was odd, coming from Kieran... Because, frankly, who would've thought he would have what it took to teach? Well, Nate, apparently...
Kieran had hesitated when Nate suggested they gathered for a few bartending lessons, knowing full well he was not fit to be a teacher. Kieran was impatient, explosive and mostly introspective – he wasn't even sure he could express himself verbally in a way Nathan would understand. But to his surprise, Nate proved himself a faster learner than most people he'd known, and it was likely that their years of friendship had led to an easier understanding between the two. Kieran was an introvert, quiet and contemplative. But Nate, who was one of his closest friends – and almost a diametrical opposite: kind, sweet and amiable – knew his way around Kieran's rough edges. And the eventual lessons became sort of a rule – an informal agreement between the two, and one of Kieran's favorite moments of the week. Despite their differences, hanging out with Nate was something he truly cherished.
As per usual, Kieran waited for him at the Phoenix – with all its lights turned on it became quite the unfamiliar landscape for the patrons, the warm yellow of the bulbs giving it a strangely cozy atmosphere. But it was the best time to have Nate over – when it was quiet and calm, so that he could take his time learning, and make mistakes...
Upon Nate's arrival, Kieran opened the door to quickly let his friend in, before proceeding to lock it just as fast – in nights like those, where they had big bands come over to perform, people really did form lines on the sidewalk and tried to push open the door in order to get the closest possible places to the stage. Kieran was a man of few words, so a nod and a smirk were his most common form of greeting. "We have plenty of time today, place only opens at 9. We've got this big indie band performing tonight, by the way, so you can stay here to watch." Kieran was the type of person who expressed his affection with these unspoken gestures of kindness; say, if Nate chose to stay over, he would have free drinks all night and the best seat in the house – which were things no employee was technically allowed to do, but Kieran did, anyway.
THEO: Yes, I'm all for going out in a big bang, but I also want to be memorable, I wanna be in the sequels Kieran, I am finale girl material.
THEO: but technically speaking, the couple that fucks and gets killed right after, also ends with a mass of blood entrails, but ofc I'm the one who needs to work on hos analogies. 🙄
THEO: And for the record, my imagination is already on high alert, It's wild baby.
THEO: so, an escort?? because I'm not paying to get a glimpse of the abs, LOOK @ me, Kieran! people pay me to take off my shirt!
KIERAN: we can stick to the final girl/serial killer analogy that was sort of working for me
KIERAN: yeah i think im at fault for that... see, instant regret
KIERAN: also, what do u wanna eat
KIERAN: just paying cause you're a good customer. if u let anyone else know i brought u food i'm breaking your nose
KIERAN: then i guess you're not seeing any abs tonight
THEO: WOW! WOW! we've been friends for what?? ten fucking minutes, and you have the audacity not to know me like the back of ur hand, or something equally as dumb??
THEO: It was a weirdly graphic sexual innuendo, obviously!
THEO: I will happily settle for free food, ur company however?? bit of a downer, u should take off your shirt, distract me from the conversation.
THEO: ha! jokes on you, I haven't even started yet, because If i did, It barely lasted 10 seconds.
KIERAN: i mean of all the analogies u could've picked, you went for the one in which i become a mass of bloody entrails
KIERAN: for future ref, there's a lot of better sexual innuendos in horror movies like the couple that fucks and gets killed right after
KIERAN: but i don't want to let your imagination run too wild
KIERAN: you know i'm not the escort right? i charge extra to take off my shirt
THEO: You ever seen Wile E Coyote and the road runner?? because, you’re Wile vs gravity, and I wanna watch you make impact with concrete. me I'm concrete. all the makings of a proper horror.
THEO: I take your offer, reject it, and raise you free food. fyi ur buying and bringing said food.
THEO: woah, It lasted a whole 16 minutes, and 24 seconds, but keep it up, and It'll be a whole 20 minutes, k.
KIERAN: now i can't tell whether that was a weirdly graphic sexual innuendo or you really want to see my guts scattered on the sidewalk
THEO: drugs and I, we're one and the same, and no I will not be further elaborating.
THEO: the finale girl, u the villain, talk about heated sexual chemistry.
THEO: well, I was gonna say a handy, ‘cause you know, I am my own favourite stoner, and weed gets me high, horny and hella hungry, but you've lost your flirting privileges.
KIERAN: now i'd pay to watch that
KIERAN: idk about that handy but i'm off tonight, i can def drop by if u want
KIERAN: and how long u think u can deprive me of my flirting privileges today? a whole hour? or 15 mins like last time i lost them?
