⟨ joe manganiello. cis male. he/him. ⟩ ↪ have you met jason silvio yet ? this forty-three year old aries has been living in the beverly hills area for twenty-five years. he makes a living as a real estate agent / entrepreneur, which works for their unflappable, driving, deceitful, and headstrong nature. looking for the magic by dwight twilley is one of j’s favorite songs, and they’re written by melly, 25, pst, none. ⟨ 🔪 + 🤳 ⟩
i really played myself thinking i’d stick w one muse !! hennyway, dis jason !
jason silvio was born to middle class parents in the heart of new jersey, was the apple of their eye and had a golden future ahead of him... until his little sister came along, then a brother and all of these big aspirations had to be sliced up and shared. it became clear to jason really early on that if he wanted something, he’d have to get it for himself.
the second he graduated high school, he bypassed his parents offer to take out a loan for community college and instead took out a loan to head west. when he got to los angeles he worked every job he could find, desperately trying to find his niche while still making as much money as possible. this lead him pretty quickly to the dark underbelly of the city, where the deals are shady but the money flows freely for anyone brave or stupid enough to grab it.
a glib man, jason’s fast-talking ways made him pretty popular with the dubious bosses running los angeles’ crime groups. he lived well above his means and looked the part, clean-cut and unassuming, so he was put to work. he spent much of his early 20s working with various unnamed corporate entities, moving money for anyone who could afford the services. land, buildings, and businesses were bought and sold and before he turned thirty jason had a wife and a beautiful home in beverly hills, a far cry from jersey suburbia.
now he owns buildings often rented out for parties, showings, etc, and he’s currently looking into buying a club. if you recently bought a nice house in beverly hills, odds are jason helped you find it. he’s got an eye for luxury and pretty things to cover up the bleak underside of it all.
jason managed to narrowly avoid responsibility for the dirtier aspects of the job, his brand is that of an entrepreneur, after all, not some street soldier, but it’s all a smoke screen. the businesses he runs are like plates he’s spinning on his fingers and if any of them should drop, the consequences will be unspeakable. jason is desperate to keep up the role he’s been playing for more than half his life.
as far as personality, jason thinks he’s very charming, but really is bossy, brutish, and inherently wicked. he’s a chronic cheater, liar, manipulator. while he does care very much for his family and believes everything he does is for them, make no mistake he is a selfish man. he’s probably a coward in his heart of hearts. at least he’s never boring !!
wc: anyone he could do business with, either legitimately or criminally. friends in beverly hills (probably ones who are of the same class he is), people he can hire for jobs and have perhaps become friends, women he can cheat with. honestly anything, let’s plot it up.
confused and a little shook up from the previous night still, corey is a sight for sore eyes. “ mornin’ to you too, jones. ” taylor holds her hand out, an ancient gesture to bum a cigarette from her oldest friend. before the writer can retort with a quip, she’s violently blushing when corey gets the reason why she’s up so early right. “ a dame never tells. ” taylor wiggles her eyebrows. “ and no further questions. it’s too early to think. ”
corey makes to bite at taylor’s hand, pulls back with a toothy grin. “where’s this dame? all’s i see is a lil thot.” winking, she holds her cup between her teeth, using her free hand to fish a spare cigarette from it’s pack. “aw c’mon, tay, you gotta let me live vicariously. i’ve been up all night and not in a good way.”
coral lips pull into a smirk, instinctive as far as corey is concerned, with slender digits tucking a stray wisp of caramel behind her ear before offering two charming middle fingers and a low chuckle. ‘ if only i had shame, ’ she exhales, evading an actual answer and, instead, peering out at the glowing horizon. ‘ think i might go for a swim before the tourists start to terrorize the beach, ’ shades drop down her nose, bleary gaze falling upon the friendly face with glowing mischief. ‘ come with. i’ll do my best not to drown you this time. ’
“we’re all tourists here.” smoke shadows corey’s sardonically scrunched nose, she gestures to the watery horizon. “at least we are in there and i got a healthy respect for big fish that wanna bethany hamilton me for breakfast, yanno?” still, she steps slowly out of her sandals, lets her cup sink between them in the sand, but holds onto the cigarette. a smile begins to grow. “i’m not wearing a suit.”
“For me?” she asks, snatching the cup from Corey’s hand taking a sip, slowly so as not to burn her tongue–it wouldn’t be in styrofoam if it wasn’t piping hot, though she’d have rather stolen an iced coffee. “Walk of shame,” she echoes with a smirk, the lingo inadvertently taking her back to college. “Are we still stuck on that verbiage? I feel proud. And maybe a little sore. And thirsty. You know, if not for this coffee. It’s kind of disgusting though.” She hands it back with a cheeky grin that she hides as quickly as it came, running her tongue over her teeth. If they look half as gross as they feel having not brushed them yet, she shouldn’t be smiling at anyone.
“vic, when don’t you feel proud?” a scoffed laugh is sealed by the cigarette, she takes a thoughtful drag. “no shame in the fucking... some shame in the fucker. he don’t make you shitty coffee, you gotta come take all mine?” there’s an extended pause and corey’s shooting a wry smirk, shrugging. “then again i just left my dentist’s house... turns out i’m way more masochistic than i thought.” as the sun arches higher in the sky, corey fixes her shades on the crook of her nose and tilts her head. “breakfast? i’ll let you buy.”
double eye bags rest under blue-grey orbs accompanied by the greasiest messy bun plopped on top of imogen’s head as she made heavy foot steps on the pavement. she had been up since two in the morning and she looked the part. she woke from a dead sleep to the strongest pang of inspiration she had ever gotten. when she was finally done and realized what time it was, she couldn’t go back to bed. there was too much to do and not enough time in the day. her wandering footsteps led her to corey’s abode. a hand rises to shield her eyes from the blinding light, looking over at the other. “don’t know. haven’t been to bed,” she fought the urge to yawn. imogen couldn’t help but laugh. “i WISH this was a walk of shame,” the sleep-deprived woman paused to think. “in a way, this is something of a walk of shame. not as much shame as usual— coffee?” there’s a tinge of hopefulness in her voice. maybe corey had something to share with the hopeless writer.
“mm, yeah, writer brain is worse than one night stands... at least the one night stands leave in the morning.” wordlessly, corey hands over the cup, it’s contents turned lukewarm during her walk back to the apartments. she jerks her head, one arm slipping loosely around imogen’s waist. “c’mon, i’ll make a fresh pot... and, yes, by make i do mean burn.” she guides the blonde through the gates of her complex, follows the paved, weeded walkway to her front door. “the sleeplessness do the trick then? ‘cause i’ve been up for an hour and i’m ready to go the fuck back to bed. see, i think napping agrees more with my writer brain.”
the last thing jon expected when going for a cup of his normal coffee was to be interrogated before even entering the establishment . still , he was a charming individual so was sure to give the other a smile before proceeding with an explanation . “ going to get my morning coffee , i’m an early riser . things don’t run themselves , you know .” he chuckled . “ sorry to disappoint you , however , i’m sure you’ll find someone in that predicament at least once this week .”
“mm, so a damn shame.” she snaps her fingers like, shoot. corey’s smile is patient, laidback. “yeaah, but have we tried? if the system’s so bad it can’t keep movin’ without us all tucked away in our skyscrapers, maybe it oughta burn down?” she’s not inherently anti-establishment, but the talk usually riles up the suits, much to her amusement. this one, she imagines, is probably unflappable. too chipper to be corporate, that’s for sure. corey often notices him in this coffee shop, usually rushing merrily off with his morning joe just as she’s settling into her favorite patio seat. her head cocks, hand gesturing to the chair opposite her’s in lieu of an invitation. “hell, maybe you’d even get to pause and enjoy one of those cappuccinos.”
“…And here I was, thinking I wouldn’t wake you up or get caught, if I climbed through the window,” Mia teased her roommate in response, decidedly too chirpy for this early in the morning. Her bare feet tapped across the floor with great ease, over to where her roommate was and in her hand she carried her outrageous (and borrowed) designer heels, as well as her wig from the previous night. “Wouldn’t you like to know,” a meaningful, yet playful look sent her way. “Don’t be jealous Corey, you know I always come back home to you,” and to conclude, she dipped her head to lightly bite the other’s shoulder. Her gaze landed to the coffee in a cup and an almost dreamy sigh escaped her. “–For me?” It wasn’t but hey, it was worth a shot. “How was your night? You can tell me all about it while making me breakfast?” The Levi suggested, wearing her most sheepish and brilliant smile. Once again, it was worth a shot.
“-- aw, yeah, been sittin’ here just waiting. me, the lonesome housewife and you, the brave soldier sent off to whore --- i mean war.” tongue is tucked wryly between her teeth, a wink for good measure implying her lightheartedness. it’s a self-aware hypocrisy -- each morning it’s usually a toss-up between which of the women would come stumbling through the front door and corey has long since released her feelings of bitterness about it... mostly. from her spot sat on their scratched up dining table she defensively holds her coffee close. “hell no, i’m on hour thirteen of a work binge and this is me tricking my body into thinking it actually got some goddamn sleep last night. here --,” she holds her cigarette up to mia’s lips, smiling brilliantly, “breakfast.” a foot kicks out to nudge her leg, ends up wrapping itself around mia’s calf. “you can use the door, you fuckin’ nut. no eggshells on the ground, you don’t gotta tiptoe.”
“kinda early, isn’t it?” corey wonders, beguiling and smiling quietly. the question is inherently sardonic, as evidenced by the styrofoam cup of coffee she’s got clasped in one hand, smoking cigarette in the other. sunglasses sit tucked on the crown of her head, useless to the dawning sun slipping up over the horizon. “you waking up or only just going to bed?” she leans in, playful as she looks them over with an assessing eye. “-- ooh, caught you in the last stretch of a walk of shame?”
⟨ zoe kravitz. cis fem. she/her. ⟩ ↪ have you met corey jones yet ? this thirty-one year old sagittarius has been living in the weho area for ten years. she makes a living as a comic book artist, which works for their spontaneous, empathetic, strong-willed, and flighty nature. in lust we trust by steve lacey is one of cor’s favorite songs.
hi, i’m sidney prescott’s mom -- melly !! this here is my chaotic gay feminist, corey. some deets about her are below. can’t wait to meet and plot w all your beauts !
her full name is cordelia though she will steadfastly deny it. used by her mother and friends looking to annoy her.
she grew up as a latchkey kid over in a new york suburb, her father left early with his secretary and her mom worked in an art gallery to support the kid
independence became second nature to her, she takes care of herself and doesn’t take to authority well.
though she’s always been a bright, precocious girl, her hobbies were always pretty childish. she liked cartoons, anime, and would ritually devour the comic section of the daily newspaper
wasn’t long until she picked up her own pencil and outline pen, her stories always reflected what she went through which tended to get pretty scandalous as she got older
in high school she had a rebellious nature. slept around, skipped class, drank, did drugs, and had minor interactions with the law. she was one of those people to provide the gossip – a joke to the girls and a conquest for the boys
despite her urban legend reputation, there really wasn’t anything extraordinary about corey. there weren’t any major issues, only existential ones, she simply didn’t really know what she was looking for, wanted to try everything and see what stuck. turns out new york wasn’t it
she played the same black sheep role in college and the minute she graduated, corey washed her hands of her mistakes and headed for a new coast – good ol’ los angeles
for the past ten years she’s been nurturing her comic book, a feminist love letter to girls like her, which sells only decently. it’s squeezed her into some conventions over the years and her goal is to flip it into an animated series or, even better, live action.
los angeles is a whole lot slower than new york and actually managed to calm her heart down, though she still ripples with that spontaneous recklessness now and again, she’s really quite content with where she’s at now.
wanted connections: friends, frenemies, old new york friends, ppl in the art community she’s probably peers w, also dabbles in the music community so probably has buds there, too.
