#montrouge.starter

[nocturnalbl1ss]

when: 01/31 where: monthly trivia night with: open (0/4)

after so many months in town, it had become a ritual for river now: every saturday night, after every dinner, he would swing by nicolette's and pick up a piece of cherry pie to take home. when he stumbles in tonight, the last thing he expects to find is an exceptionally large crowd, and what he can only surmise is some kind of... game show? in a canadian pub? river's palms are already growing slick with sweat, the author immediately unnerved, even before a staff member pushes him in the direction of a table with one open seat. he stutters after the departing waitress, blinking, then looks at the person seated next to him. "i just wanted pie," he blurts out.

[nocturnalbl1ss]

when: 01/09 where: the red cheetahs game with: open (1/4)

theo clears her throat before speaking, aiming for the attention of the person in front of her in the concession line. "phone a friend?" she inquires, a tone of merriment in the question. from the auditorium, an announcer's voice booms in the distance, not quite clear enough that theo can make out any actual words. "from who wants to be a millionaire," she adds in lieu of a real explanation to her joke, digging a few dollar bills out of her pocket as she sidesteps them, chin jutting at the worker behind the register. "cherry coke, please? extra ice." theo hands over the cash, disinterested in the monetary value of her drink, gaze fixed instead of the person she technically cut in line. "you looked like you were having a tough time trying to order. thought i'd buy you some time," theo offers, head tilting with natural consideration.

[ofsundays]

who: rowan + open (0/2)

where: red cheetahs vs toronto hawks

the rink is already buzzing by the time rowan steps inside, the familiar hum of montrouge wrapping around her like a second skin. january cold still clings to her jacket, breath fogging faintly as she pauses near the boards, eyes tracking the red cheetahs as they warm up on the ice. first game of the season. home ice. the kind of night this town lives for.

she leans her forearms against the railing, posture easy but her focus sharp, watching the boys cut tight turns and snap passes like they’ve been rehearsing this moment in their sleep. somewhere behind the bench, she knows her dad is pacing, running through lines and matchups with the same calm intensity he’s carried her whole life. the thought makes her smile despite herself.

rowan takes a sip from her drink and glances around, taking in the packed stands, familiar faces, new ones, the mix of red jerseys and hometown pride. “hawks always play like they’ve got something to prove,” she mutters, half to herself, half to anyone close enough to hear. “guess tonight we do too.”

she shifts her weight, knocking her shoulder lightly against the person beside her without much thought, an apologetic grin already forming. “sorry, crowd’s got me amped.” her eyes flick back to the ice as the lights dim slightly, anticipation crackling through the rink. “you here for the cheetahs, or just for the chaos?”

[ofsundays]

who: lodi + open (0/2)

where: new year’s eve party, st. agnes

lodi had been on her feet since well before sunset, the lodge slowly transforming around her as guests filtered in from the cold. fairy lights glowed against dark wood beams, champagne flutes clinked softly, and the low hum of conversation swelled with every new arrival. she moved through it all with practiced ease, tablet tucked under one arm, pausing to greet a guest here, redirect staff there, offering quiet reassurances when something ran a minute behind.

the new year’s eve party at st agnes was one of the few nights the resort opened its doors fully to the town. no exclusivity, no velvet rope. champagne and hors d’oeuvres flowed freely, laughter echoing off stone and glass, the mountain looming just beyond the windows. everything else came at a price, of course, and lodi had already fielded more than one disappointed question about the spa.

she lingered near the edge of the main floor, eyes scanning the room, catching familiar faces and unfamiliar ones alike. every so often she smiled, or lifted a glass in greeting, or stepped in when a guest looked just a little lost. midnight was still hours away, but the energy was already building, thick with expectation.

“if you need anything tonight, actually need it,” she said to no one in particular, voice carrying just enough to reach whoever happened to be nearby, “now’s the time to find me. once the countdown starts, i make no promises.”

[ofsundays]

who: alex + open (0/2)

where: new years picnic

alex had shown up earlier than most, bundled in a heavy coat, hands wrapped around a paper cup of coffee as the square slowly came back to life. the night before still lingered in the air, stray glitter on the pavement, the quiet aftermath of celebration: but this felt gentler, meant for kids tugging mittens on and parents moving at half speed.

he lingered near the edge of the picnic tables, watching volunteers set things up, offering help where he could before being waved off with familiar smiles. it was the kind of morning he liked, unhurried, forgiving. when he finally settled, he glanced up as someone approached, a soft smile already there.

“rough night?” he asked lightly, nodding toward the late start and the bundled families trickling in. “i figured if the fireworks are the last thing we see this season, we might as well ease into it.” he shifted his cup from one hand to the other, posture open. “you sticking around for the whole thing, or just passing through?”