#chat: jay

[oliver-beau-foley]

Oliver was full of pent up rage. He felt like hitting something, throwing something. Anything just to get his mind out of the place it had been for the past almost 24 hours. He’d decided maybe a walk down to a 7/11 would be the perfect way to try and clear his head. Grab something and come back. It was after he’d paid for a slushie and left the building Oliver noticed someone all too familiar to him. Someone he loathed. “Oi, Nash! I’ve got a bone to pick with you.” He called after the man.

@jayxnash

[blakenieves]

@jayxxvasquez

Blake looked at her phone, reading the text. Of course. There was a catch. There was always a catch. She sighed and considered her options. She could hear Ryan, still upstairs, safe and sound and as calm as he could be, given the circumstances. Sky was...well, given the circumstances, Sky was okay. And Jay--that was what she was worried about. She snapped her fingers, bringing him to a hard landing next to her. Blake offered him her hand, mumbling a little sorry. “You’re staying here, right?” she said. No time to waste on small-talk. What was important was keeping her family safe an that included Jay. Again.

[blakenieves]

When Blake landed, it was not her most graceful. She hit the floor, butt-first, spilling some of her cosmopolitan onto her hand. Reflexively, her hand reached for a napkin, but of course, she wasn’t in the bar anymore. No, she was... “Oh,” she said softly. Teleporting hadn’t been intentional. She’d felt a pull and suddenly, here she was. Putting her glass down on the small bedside table next to her, she carefully pulled herself upright. Tipsy and disoriented from accidentally teleporting was not a good combination for her balance, though, and she stumbled, falling back down immediately. “Shit.”

@jay-andrews

[grimmusings]

@king-beast

Nate had never been this drunk before. It was possible no one in history had ever been this drunk before. They'd been in the dive for hours, consoling Alvey, talking about their family, laughing as they watched Jay try to charm the woman at the bar. It had all gone wrong so fast. Two little words. Words his dad hadn't even acknowledged at first, that stupid grin on his face like this was some sort of joke or prank, like Nate was going to laugh and say just kidding. As if he would ever joke about this, this thing that terrified him about himself, that terrified him more to say aloud to Alvey in particular. He'd had to get stinking drunk just to get the words out, to fool himself into thinking it was safe enough, when consequences were a sober person's problem. It was the only way he could ever say them to his face.

He could barely see as he stumbled toward the door, a path that had seemed straightforward enough when they entered the bar but was now a labyrinth of tables and corridors. Where was the goddamn door? There wasn't enough air in here, there wasn't enough light, he couldn't see where he was going, and he knew if he paused to acknowledge Jay's voice behind him, he would completely lose his shit. It wasn't until the outside air hit his face, stinging his eyes, that he realized he couldn't see because he was crying. Hot tears slid down his cheeks, only fueling the anger burning in his chest.

Fucking Alvey. He didn't know what made him think his dad could handle this. Not Mr. King Beast Welterweight Superfight champion, not Mr. Maker of Men, not Mr. Toxic Masculinity himself, no, his son couldn't be a faggot, there was no way, these things just didn't happen. He was still breathing hard, the sound loud in his ears, but not loud enough to drown out the sound of his brother's voice behind him. He didn't have the words to explain what had just happened. He couldn't even look Jay in the eye. Don't cry. Don't fucking cry. Fuck him. He's not even fucking worth it. At least Jay already knew. At least Jay didn't love him any less. At least Jay wasn't a fucking pussy. His shoulders were heaving with suppressed sobs. He thought if he opened his mouth, he might vomit.

[gallowsheart]

@king-beast

Theo was stretched out on the hood of the Jeep he shared with Aven, waiting for her to come out of the gym. It might be a while. He'd heard the beginning of the dressing down she was giving to Alvey and promptly excused himself from the rest of that discussion. He wasn't positive it was deserved, but he'd been on the receiving end before and didn't envy the former-MMA-fighter-turned-coach. He gently peeled the wad of gauze he'd had pressed to his mouth and probed curiously at the split lip with his tongue. Sort of the whole point of Navy Street was people getting punched, but this was a little different.

MMA wasn't exactly known for being an inclusive sport, and he'd never been quiet about his bisexuality-- nor had Aven, but it was different for her. The guys at the gym thought it was smoking hot that she fucked girls too because they could imagine themselves in the middle of that threesome. Not so for him, but he'd be damned if he let anyone shove him back in a closet for any reason. He could afford to be out. Fighting wasn't his job, and nothing hinged on him coming back to this gym. In a couple weeks, he might not even be in the country if another overseas job fell in his lap.

But it had boiled over today. Theo usually had a sense of where the lines were, but that didn't always stop him. He'd been listening to Derek, one of the more Neanderthal-like regulars, call him a fag any time he thought he could get away with it for weeks. The situation was not improved today by Theo firing back with, "You want to fuck me so bad it makes you look stupid." He didn't even fight back when the guy lunged at him--they all knew he could, even Derek--although it taken three of them to pull Aven off of him. Alvey had been pissed, but it was pretty obvious Theo was the bullied, not the bully. Still, he was a little surprised they were still welcome there, at least as of ten minutes ago.

He squinted at his phone, barely able to see the time with the glare of the sun, and wondered how much longer this was going to take. He needed a beer and maybe, like, the biggest cheeseburger in Venice.

[addison-vale-blog]

[It was late. Around nine or ten-ish o'clock. It was late for the Colony. Addison had just finished her shift at Catch 22, it was her job that night to close up. She was alone, and she liked it. Addison's favourite part of working at the pub was not ONLY the sense normalcy it provided, but also how free she felt being there alone. 

Addison had full control of the juke box. Her favourite music was the kind from the late 1900's. 1970's to be exact. It was all so wholesome. No crazy electronic shit, none of the erratic synths, and none of the unpredictable drum patterns. The music from centuries ago was steady, the beat stayed consistent, and the lyrics were actually meaningful. -- Well, to Addison at least.

The tall, somewhat scrawny girl was finishing up on her last table when she heard a slight knock on the metal door. She knew instantly who her caller was. Jay Walker. The two had planned earlier to meet up after hours to drink and talk for a bit. Something they both wanted to do, seeing as the two both had so much they seemed to share. Addison walked over to the door, opening it up slightly, trying not to let too much light from the pub out.]

Jesus, homie, wanna knock a little louder? Don't think the Elites heard ya'.

[Addison said, chuckling lightly. She walked back over towards the counter and pulled out two glasses, one a mug, and the other a jar.]

Alright, Jay, not too much, yeah? If we walk back tipsy both of our asses are gonna be in a whole lot of hell.

[Addison said firmly, knowing that the two probably wouldn't be sober for much longer.]