The Stonewall Inn
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@weseuston-blog
weseuston:
“What? Not his type? Since when was paying customer not a bartender’s type?” He looked from the bartender back to her. “And you look like the type to over-tip.”
“Hey, I am a paying customer! I don’t always get free drinks.” She pouted a little put off by the comment, she only didn’t pay when someone else offered. “So again, why no drink yet, hm?”
Wes grinned, shrugged. "That is a you problem," he told her.
sophiadxniels:
Sophia’s returning grin was a little lopsided, but still vibrant, despite the amount of alcohol she had consumed she was most definitely not sloppy just yet, not like some of the other girls that had staggered around the club earlier. When his arm draped around her, she pressed closer then she intended, her sense of depth perception a little off as an arm slipped around his waist in response as she inclined her head towards him, so that she might hear him better, and nodded a couple of times in response as she began to back away to the bar, the arm around his waist tugging him along a little. “I’m Sophia–” she turned to speak, lips at his ear as she tried to introduce herself over the music.
Wes nodded, smiling. "I should have known," he yelled into her hair at an approximation of her ear, "It's one of my favorite names." He curled his fingers a little more tightly around her; she wasn't sloppy, wasn't stumbling or bumping into people any more than was normal for a crowded club like Banshee, but there was a certain exuberance in her step and a brightness in her eyes that made Wes think that she was on the verge of simply floating off. "I'm Wes," he said, shouldering them both into a place right at the front of the bar. "What are you drinking?" She seemed like a beer girl, but Wes had always been careful about not making assumptions. It was easier that way - get it right once, instead of having to repeat things. Efficient. "Shots?" he teased.
addisonharker:
Addison frowned at the boy, her eyes trailing from the drink in his hand up to his face, “No. I think I’m just not his type.”
"What? Not his type? Since when was paying customer not a bartender's type?" He looked from the bartender back to her. "And you look like the type to over-tip."
“Why does it take so long to get served in this place these days,” the redhead grumbled as she stood on her tiptoes to try and attracted the bartenders attention.
"I'm gonna hazard a guess and say that you're the problem," Wes said, lifting his own seltzer to indicate the ease with which he'd been served.
sophiadxniels:
Just the slightest hint of a smirk played about on her lips as she felt the briefest touch to her waist and she barely glanced around enough to see who it was, merely casting a gaze over him before she continued to sway her hips to the music without talking to him. She was never one to turn down a dance partner, and a voluntary one at that, and she was too drunk to care that it was someone she hadn’t met before. After all, that was why she was here wasn’t she? To meet new people? Get out of her comfort zone, try new things. Not focus on work, or family drama. She turned to face the man with a smirk, still swaying to the beat as she made eye contact and her hands hovered briefly above his shoulders before she spun again, arms in the air as she danced.
The fact that she was a stranger barely occured to him; it was a night club, people were going to dance. It helped that Wes had never been shy. He could take a hint certainly, and knew that not everyone wanted a partner when they were dancing, but the pretty girl in his arms seemed content enough to stay there. He grinned lazily at her as she turned to glance at him. He tipped his chin up slightly as he took in the low, rumbling beat of the song, his movements synching up with hers before too long. He draped his arms over her shoulders, leaning his chin down close to her ear. "Want a drink?" he asked, lips close to her skin so he could be heard - or, at the very least, felt beneath the music.
Sophia had lost count how many drinks she’d had, somewhere between maybe the third and fourth tequila shot, or was it the beers she was still drinking? She didn’t care anymore as she found herself dancing with a complete stranger, losing herself to the music. Grinding her hips against the person’s behind her, she was completely oblivious to the world around her.
Tipsy - and even shitfaced, on more than one occasion - Wes had loved Banshee. But sober, the music was too loud and the flashing lights got on his nerves; the entire room smelled like beer and desperation. Wes took another bitter drink of his seltzer and set it down, casting a lazy glance around for his friends. He was technically the designated, but they hadn't even driven here; the weather was too nice, the town too small. Instead, he busied himself on the floor, barely taking a step or two before he was drawn in by a dark haired girl, and he laughed despite himself, letting himself pick up the beat of the song, matching up with the girl, settling one hand around her waist, light against her skin, not holding, just touching.
"I think we all have to admit that Northpoint is endlessly Instagramable, but that really doesn't mean I'm the best photographer," Wes said with a grin, but he took the phone anyway and listened to the tourist's directions. "Hold on," he said, peering through the phone. "There's someone in the frame. Hey!" He said, waving a hand at the familiar face, "Can you step just a bit ---"
Camila Mendes photographed by Robin Harper for V Magazine.
lianacampbell:
“Fine, whatever you insist. I was just trying to be the nicer person to clear the air. Sulk however you want to.”
"What air? The air has been cleared since the second we broke up, sugar."
lianacampbell:
“Getting a little noisy over here. It’s just one drink. I gave you an offer or I could just go home.”
"I never asked you to stay, blondie. Do what you want."
lianacampbell:
“A platonic offer. Plus. would you really want to drink by yourself? Where’s the fun in that?”
"Uh-huh. And since when were you such a drinker, anyway?"
“I’ve known what I wanted to do. So, this means that all the things I’ve known about myself, felt about myself, and the confidence I’ve had was not misplaced. This is really where I belong. I’ve always known that, but that kind of confidence boost is necessary when you’re rejected so much in this industry.“
lianacampbell:
“Are you taking it as a date because I thought it was rather friendly gesture. Unless, you have something else to inform me on, Euston.”
"Nope, nothing. You were quick to offer, though."
lianacampbell:
“Well, crap, I was just saying.. if you were really that desperate then at least let me tag along with you. I’ll even drink a few whichever because drinking in misery, never fun.”
"Are you asking me on a date, Miss Campbell?"
lianacampbell:
“Wait, are you serious right now? Over… a jokes day. I mean, do you want to.. you know, nevermind, just ignore I said anything. I won’t judge but I wish you the best.”
"Spit it out, pretty girl. What are you thinking?"
Your future self is watching you right now through memories.
not if i drink enough alcohol! take that you prying creep
"April first is honestly the most stressful day of the year. I just want to get drunk so that I can be hungover in my house all day tomorrow and not have to see another person."
