#fro: open

[sacha-fowler]

Cheat day. Her favourite meals of the week. Sacha had been buzzing all morning thinking about what she could have for lunch, where she should go, what she should order. She’d spent her off time searching up restaurants nearby, and menus if they had them online. She was practically vibrating with excitement. She’d chosen a place based on the recommendation of the janitor at the rink, Olaf’s Diner, insisting that she’d love the burgers there. He’d seemed so insistent, she had to go and find out what the big deal was. 

Walking through the doors, Sach was surprised. It was exactly what she expected from a fifties style diner, even down to the cute waitress uniforms, except there were Christmas decorations all around the room, tinsel and foil hangings and a tree sitting in the corner. It was magical. She adored Christmas, and decided she was all for Christmas every day, just like the song. Finding a table dropped in importance, instead she ambled over to the tree and touched it. Artificial. She should have guessed that, considering it was May. It was covered in cutesy baubles, there was even one of those super kitsch ones shaped like a burger which had her chuckling to herself. 

[unianterested]

Ian rarely stopped by the lounge at the Ackerman Lodge. It was an overwhelming swell of fancy tourists looking for escapism in lush hills and overpriced drinks that made him question his career path every time he couldn’t afford something there. It was an off-season for skiers but it didn’t make the resort any less fancy or unpopulated, the wide expanse and five-star accommodations making it a national draw for all those who wanted something a little different. He couldn’t say that he liked it, but he was used to the crowds at that point. 

He’d ordered a drink at the Lodge out of lack of better things to do and pass some time before the rink cleared up. A poor choice, in retrospect, when he took a sip of the cup he’d picked up at the counter and found it not only scalding but caffeinated, bitter sludge. Naturally, he spit it back into the cup (politely) and looked around for others who’d just picked up theirs too.

“Excuse me, I think I’ve got your order,” he said, flagging down the nearest person. “I ordered a chocolate peppermint latte. This smells like a teacher’s breath at the end of a long morning.”

[judesaves]

location : kingscrest ice rink, early morning. / status : open. / @frozenstarter​

the pull and sting of his muscles is something judah has known since he was a child, but it doesn’t make it hurt any less. practice was particularly grueling by fault of his own, a form of self-punishment, working harder than he really needed to just to clear his mind of all thoughts and focus on all that mattered: hockey. there at the second the rink opened, it was the rare weekday that wasn’t booked for private morning ice time, using the rink website to book it last night. jude spends every non-team practice day still at the rink, doing anything from slapping pucks into an empty net to taking a leisurely skate around the ice like he’s on an outdoor rink at christmas time, simple and something akin to relaxing. his time on the ice is private, more sacred than church, a place where it’s just himself and sometimes god. this morning, however, he was attempting to beat his record skating from blue line to blue line, almost a human blur from speed, legs wanting to give out from exhaustion but he wouldn’t allow them to.

his best record, however, is left in tact when he suddenly notices another presence in the rink. immediately he skids to a stop, observing the other, before he skates up to them. “oh, uh, sorry but... uh, i booked this hour for myself. i mean i can, like, share the ice but, uh...” it’s just easier to punish himself in the form of skating drills when he’s alone. “did they double book us? i used an app and they can be kinda faulty, so...”

[armybratjames]

life feels better when you smile || open

James stood in La Bodega with a snickers in one hand and a kitkat bar in the other, trying to decide what he wanted to spend his last two dollars until tomorrow on. The thirty dollars he had left in his jacket pocket had mysteriously disappeared in the night, and while he was almost certain his dad had nicked it, he was not in the mood to start an argument with Rod while he was drunk. The fact that it was four in the afternoon stood as an indicator that his father was already well into whatever he’d used his son’s money on, and it just wasn’t worth the headache. Murphy set the kitkat down and moved to the cashier to check out, sighing as he smoothed out the two crumpled dollar bills before setting them on the counter. Tomorrow he’d leave the money in his account after direct deposit, instead of risking it going missing as cash at home. 

The blond’s pocket jingled with the few coins he received in change as he walked out of the bodega, and started down the street. He had a couple of hours to kill before he had to go into work, and he decided that a little people watching would be easier than stopping home to pick up his gear for the rink. James plopped down atop a stout brick wall and kicked his heels against the stone as he ate his candy bar, eyes scanning the passersby. “How’s it going?” He nodded towards someone that looked at him, giving a chocolate coated grin. 

[zachhart]

Waiting until the building was empty, Zach headed to the emergency exit and cracked the door so he could indulge in a quick toke before cleaning the ice. While most would lecture the dangers of operating heavy machinery while under the influence, the zamboni was painfully slow, especially at the end of the evening when he was ready to just be done with the rink and be back on his couch. Besides, it was barely a buzz, just enough to take the edge off and eliminate any anxiety that crept up on a rare occasion he was sober. As per usual after dark regime, he plugged his phone into the buildings sound system - a loud hip hop playlist now blaring through the speakers while he climbed aboard old betsy, starting the engine and creeping onto the rink in it’s usual,  leisurely pace.

Immediately he noticed a figure helping themselves to the space, obviously not realizing it was closing time... or not bothered to care. There were plenty of those around here, daddy and mommy funded this rink so I can skate when I please, arguments happened more often than not. Meanwhile Zach was just trying to do his shitty job, so he could make enough money to keep his lights on this month. “Dude, I gotta clean the ice.” he said, obviously not loud enough over the rap playing in the background and the sound of the loud machinery underneath him. So, reluctantly, he cut the engine. “Hey, only one of us gets to use this rink at a time and when Kid Cudi’s on it’s my turn.” 

[karleybloom]

Karley’s affiliation with the press wasn’t much of a secret, neither was how persistent she could be. Most people from Kingscrest knew that if Karley was walking your way you should probably turn around. 

That still didn’t stop Karley from bugging people.

“Heard you might have something for me. And no, not drugs or fake passports. I mean something juicy. Although, if you do have either of the previous that I might be interested at another time. I digress, you got any news for me?”