Apr 5, 2020
to → mar sandoval: wgats UP bitch
to → mar sandoval: u gna b at the eestival?
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Montenegro
seen from China
seen from Germany
seen from France
seen from Germany
seen from United States
seen from Poland
seen from United States
seen from Malaysia
seen from United States
seen from China
seen from France
seen from Canada
seen from Japan
seen from Canada
seen from United States
seen from Germany
seen from United States
to → mar sandoval: wgats UP bitch
to → mar sandoval: u gna b at the eestival?
@herwildwhisper
There’s a girl across the counter that looks strangely familiar, and looking at her makes something warm flutter in his chest. He wants to go over and make small talk, but she doesn’t look to be in the mood for that. And she’s not why he’s here, anyway. He’s here because he doesn’t know where the pocket money Diego gave went, but at least there’s guys at Last Drop who are rich and stupid and are willing to empty their wallets for the first pretty face to smile and nod and pretend to care about the dumb shit they were saying. Finding a target is easy enough. There’s a lanky man with red hair and thick-rimmed glasses and a half-slouch that betrays some sort of repressed insecurity, and he’s got a shirt that says ‘EAT THE RICH.’ So Evan walks over. He smiles and says he likes the guy’s shirt, and the guy’s like ‘Yeah, eat the rich, right?’ to which Evan replies ‘Yeah, like, I’ve literally done that.’ And the guy’s like, ‘Literally?’ Evan flashes him a sharp-toothed grin. ‘Literally.’
The guy orders them both drinks. He starts talking about socioeconomic inequality or whatever. Starts to brag about how he’s a film student who got invited to the 2019 Cannes Film Festival and got to watch the film that won the Palme d’Or or something. This is the part where Evan inserts several strategic variations of ‘Wow, that is so interesting,’ between the rare moments that the man gives him space to reply. It’s getting really hard to pay attention, but Evan’s got at least enough energy to smile, nod, bat his lashes a little bit, and sip on his cocktail straw in a way that alluded to a blowjob without being too obvious or slutty about it. The guy says something something upward social mobility and something something capitalism and then something something... noodles? ...basements? Architecture? Whatever, Evan’s drifting off, and it’s not like this guy’s going to care about his input—
“So what do you think?”
The unexpected question drags Evan out of his thoughts. “Huh?”
The lanky guy smiles and says, “Whats your opinion?”
What’s this guy doing, caring about other people’s opinions? That’s so unlike his species. “My opinion on what?”
“What’s your opinion on Parasite?”
Evan blinks. “I think,” Huh? What? Huh? “I think tapeworms are pretty bad?”
The guy narrows his eyes, looking confused and annoyed. Jesus, are you high? ( I’m not, I swear. ) You literally haven’t been paying attention to anything I’ve been saying. ( I was. I just spaced out, I guess. ) Whatever. I’m out. And he disappears into the crowd, leaving Evan alone with an unpaid-for margarita while the bartender looks at him, palm stretched out, awaiting a payment Evan knows he doesn’t have. He reaches for empty pockets and gives the bartender a half-panicked ‘Hang on a second,’ before making his way over to the girl across the counter.
“Hey,” he greets. Why does he feel like he knows her? “I know we’ve just met but — I’m in a bit of a bind and could really use some help.”