wesleyss

[wesleyss]

          through  his  already  drunken  state,  wesley  is  convinced  the  man  before  him  is  the  wisest,  most  down  to  earth  person  he’s  ever  met.  clearly,  he  isn’t  a  good  judge  of  character,  and  that  terrible  moral  compass  he  possesses  only  worsens  when  alcohol  is  in  his  system.  he  isn’t  a  lightweight  by  any  means,  but  a  drunk  wesley  is  truly  a  different  breed.  his  cousin  once  told  him  forever  ago  that  he  would  make  a  great  addition  to  any  dramatic  reality  tv  show  if  he’s  drunk  enough  and  wesley  hasn’t  stopped  thinking  about  that  since.  not  that  he  needed  to  be  in  a  reality  tv  show,  considering  he’s  already  as  ridiculous  as  it  gets,  but  the  idea  was  nice.  any  sane  person  would  argue  that  what  his  cousin  told  him  could  be  considered  an  insult,  but  wesley  takes  it  as  it  comes,  goofy,  idiotic  smile  on  his  lips  nearly  impossible  to  break.  it  takes  a  lot  to  make  wesley  lafleur  mad  (  even  insulting  him  to  his  face  is  comical  to  the  french  male  ).  nothing  can  make  his  day  more  than  knowing  people  have  an  opinion  about  him,  whether  it  be  positive  or  negative  –  attention  is  attention.

          ❝wow,  what  a  fortune  cookie  thing  to  say.❞  he  might  as  well  be  a  dog  wagging  his  tail  at  this  point,  eating  up  every  backhanded  word  that  left  simon  murphy’s  lips.  ❝do  i?❞  a  pause  is  taken  as  he  leans  in  closer,  grin  widening.  ❝tell  me  more.❞  a  sucker  for  compliments  and  attention,  the  older  male  was  definitely  playing  his  cards  right  if  he  wanted  some  type  of  gossip  out  of  him.  wesley  could  never  turn  down  someone  complimenting  him,  as  his  already  inflated  ego  practically  thrived  off  comments  like  these.  ❝that  makes  one  of  us.❞  wesley  refers  to  the  reading  comment,  though,  he’d  rather  have  anyone  think  he  doesn’t  read  because  he’s  dumb  as  opposed  to  he  doesn’t  read  because  he’s  dyslexic.  that  was  a  secret  that  wouldn’t  leave  his  lips  no  matter  how  wasted  he  was.  of  course,  he  could  read,  and  he’s  certainly  gotten  a  lot  better  over  the  years,  but  it  wasn’t  something  he  would  ever  willingly  do  in  his  free  time.  the  biggest  help  to  him  was  comic  books,  as  the  graphics  really  helped  him  decipher  what  was  going  on  when  he  was  beginning  to  learn  english,  but  that  was  about  it.  he  figured  if  his  career  didn’t  require  constant  reading,  he  had  no  reason  to  indulge  in  that  at  all.  

          wesley  wasn’t  into  the  zodiac  either,  but  he  knows  he’s  a  leo.  he  isn’t  sure  if  that  means  much,  or  anything  at  all,  but  according  to  his  astrology  freak  friends,  he  definitely  screamed  leo  energy…  whatever  that  means.  ❝oh,  you  would  definitely  presume  correct.❞  again,  he  didn’t  know  anything  about  zodiacs,  but  it  just  felt  easier  to  blame  things  on  his  former  lovers’  sign.  obviously,  he  would  rather  resort  to  that  than  take  accountability  for  being  a  psycho.  ❝yeah,  but  are  we  surprised?  he’s  a  cancer.❞  he  desperately  deserves  to  get  punched,  the  more  he  talks.  ❝obviously.  unless  you  have  a  great  personal  maid,  which  i  do.  she  definitely  got  rid  of  all  that  fucker’s  gross,  evil  cat  hair.❞  he  was  entirely  missing  the  point,  not  on  purpose,  but  mostly  because  he  didn’t  understand  simon’s  point  to  begin  with.  whether  simon  was  losing  brain  cells  with  each  word  that  left  wesley’s  lips  was  entirely  on  him,  but  hey,  at  least  wesley  is  entertaining.  

          ❝nice  to  meet  you  simon,  you  definitely  deserve  the  world.❞  what  he  deserved  was  coal  for  christmas  and  a  rude  awakening,  but  it’s  not  like  wesley  was  any  better  than  him.  ❝oh,  i’m  not  worried  about  that.  the  essentials  any  guy  should  have  in  their  wallet  besides  money  is  condoms,  sample  sized  lube  and  party  favors,❞  jesus  fucking  christ,  wesley.  there  wasn’t  a  hint  of  a  joking  tone  in  his  words,  meaning  he  was  completely  serious.  

          he  can  recognize  the  french  from  a  mile  away,  his  native  tongue  making  him  nostalgic.  ❝do  you  actually  speak  french,  or  do  you  half  ass  it?❞  what  kind  of  question  is  that?  apparently,  one  wesley  thinks  is  completely  valid.  ❝make  it  two,  deux!❞    he  tells  the  bartender,  in  regards  to  the  pornstar  martini,  as  if  he  really  needed  another  drink  right  now.  ❝i  think  you’ll  love  it.❞  speak  for  yourself.

FILICIDE is way too fun a word to mean the deliberate death of a child at the vagary of its progenitor, simon thinks, ever the moralistic martyr conjuring up an image most coveted: the man’s parents, donning the tattered satin of forlorn, foreign emperors who thought a son would fix their failing marriage (he’d never been one to willingly necrose in the backstage chambers of a performance, but projection was kind of a murphy special, like a flaming molotov that first presented itself as a tourist attraction rather than a murder weapon). the man’s parents, hair like worms made of whiskey and eyes like disco balls with clinical depression, deciding that they are not ready to be parents and that the state of california is not ready to have its other sons and daughters stolen away by the bovine pretty boy. come to think of it, how old is lothario’s long-lost descendant? all the placenta beauty products and snake oil serums on the tiktok market had messed up simon’s perception of time. another fun factoid to coerce out of summer macbeth’s brand new plaything.

❝ well, honesty is always a hallmark of a relationship meant to last, ❞ he interjects, parrying the passion he holds for destroying someone’s self-esteem with great effort. ❝ and you sound like you would make a great fortune teller. you’ve got the charisma, the enigmatic aura, the spontaneity. ❞ the stench of alcohol, the spoiled silhouette of someone who’s never been told no and had it acknowledged by no more than a single former sycophant broken by the rejection of their advances, the barstool manners of a bucking machine gone needle-in-haywire. however, in the face of compliments, he concedes: ❝ i do read a lot. ❞ less the great gatsby and more tmz.com, but if there’s anything he’s learned from skimming divorce papers and drafting restraining orders, it’s that even the drunkest mouth can’t be trusted to keep shut at the slightest command of spilling.

❝ yes, um, i’m hopeless when it comes to zodiacs, but i presume cancer isn’t a pleasant one. ❞ he can feel his mind melting with every flash of walmart disco ball and jaguar leather jacket, but cosmopolitan cat burglar over here definitely has leo somewhere in his big three. ❝ and i’m sure he did something even worse right after. he might be plotting something worse now, you know? you don’t seem like an easy guy to get over. i mean that in a good way, obviously. the cat represented his heart, you know? and you can return a cat, but you can’t return the hair it leaves behind. you either have to clean your clothing until it’s all spotless or get the cat back so all your stuff can be covered in its hair. ❞ he is such a good writer. he deserves a good drink. not strong enough to get him strong-armed out of the bar, but electrifying past the point where his emotional stability melts with every word out of the other’s lunacy-laced grin.

and then he gets a name to the face. it’s a name prominent in event planning circles to the point where simon almost forgets to fake cardiac arrest at the eloquent title of ‘porn star martini’ given to what wesley lafleur thinks is really good, which makes him rethink ordering any martinis ever because whatever wesley lafleur thinks is really good is more than likely an alien experiment with the independent variable being how many clothes get stolen and simon is not losing his glasses tonight. drummer, influencer, model. he physically cannot think of a more manwhorish linkedin profile.

❝ simon. simon murphy. i can be your emotional support best-tea a few nights every week, if it’s a matter of scheduling, ❞ simon jokes, fiddling with his bowtie. if he has to mispronounce another few pages of the 21st century slang phonebook, so be it. ❝ i’m an actor, devoted parent, occasional bar mitzvah dj. believe it or not, my wallet does, indeed, contain stuff other than pictures of my daughter, so you won’t have to worry about me not tipping the bartender. unless, of course, you want to take your mind off the cat in the hat and hit that. ❞

speaking of, simon is dying of thirst. with the most senile bodily mechanisms possible, he tries to get the bartender’s attention. ❝ sir, sir? a porn star martini, s’il vous plait? ❞ he fails. does nobody watch movies anymore?

[wesleyss]

          he  nearly  spits  his  drink  out,  but  manages  to  hold  back.  he’s  definitely  met  some  ridiculous  people  in  los  angeles,  but  this  girl  has  to  be  his  new  favorite  kind  of  ridiculous.  ❝nah,  i’d  say  i’m  more  of  a…  mushroom  enthusiast.❞  whether  he  meant  shrooms  or  actual  dick  was  up  to  interpretation.  after  all,  where  was  the  fun  in  him  telling  him?  wesley  was  positive  someone  as  outrageous  as  herself  would  figure  it  out  real  quick.  he  lifts  up  his  hand,  pretending  like  he’s  holding  a  needle.  ❝pop  pop!❞  he’s  poking  at  the  air,  like  he  just  burst  through  her  diluted  bubble,  the  possibility  of  him  being  even  remotely  straight  being  discarded  completely.  he’s  had  sex  with  a  female  one  time,  and  it  was  something  he  wouldn’t  want  to  go  through  again,  though  he  appreciates  their  power.  ❝i’m  practically  as  powerful  as  an  olympic  gymnast  at  this  point.❞  he  flips  his  hair  overdramatically,  dirty  blonde  strands  managing  to  get  in  his  eyes,  to  which  he  blinks  repeatedly  and  blows  upwards  to  get  them  out  –  curly  hair  was  such  a  pain  in  the  ass  sometimes,  but  he  was  glad  he  found  a  proper  stylist  that  specializes  in  curly  hair,  no  one  really  knew  how  to  give  him  a  proper  cut  minus  her.  ❝of  course!  from  your  car,  to  lifeless  bodies,  to  the  classic  bdsm  gadgets…  the  world  is  your  oyster,  really.❞  with  his  attention  span,  he  almost  forgot  he  mentioned  momentarily  stealing  a  cat.  how  they  got  from  that  conversation  to  this  one  was  beyond  him,  but  he  could  always  appreciate  an  over  the  top  conversation,  he  loved  it  whenever  someone  matched  his  psychotic  energy.  something  in  wesley’s  heart  told  him  they  were  going  to  be  great  friends.  ❝it’s  my  fault  for  giving  myself  to  a  man  with  a  cat…  how  could  i  be  so  blind?  of  course  he  would  choose  the  pussy  over  me.❞  he’d  give  himself  to  any  hot  man  who  is  willing  and  gives  him  attention  (  ever  the  attention  whore  )  but  something  in  his  heart  tells  him  she’s  probably  aware  of  that,  despite  not  knowing  him.  unfortunately,  anyone  who  radiates  stupidity  the  way  that  he  does  demands  to  be  seen,  though  his  friend  once  told  him  it’s  just  his  leo  energy,  but  wesley  never  understood  astrology  all  too  much.  something  about  the  stars  and  planets  and  dates  was  enough  to  give  him  a  migraine,  so  he  would  just  take  his  friends’  word  for  it.  ❝if  only  i  could  be  so  lucky!❞  he  playfully  slams  his  fist  against  the  table,  resisting  the  urge  to  fall  off  his  chair  and  sink  into  the  ground  to  add  onto  the  drama  of  it  all.  he’s  about  to  touch  his  glass  against  hers,  but  of  course,  both  are  empty.  wesley  wiggles  his  eyebrows,  curious  to  see  what  luciana  had  in  mind.  he’s  hysterically  laughing  at  her  choice  of  words.  ❝give  me  two  pornstar  martini’s  as  well  please!  we  deserve  them  extra  loaded,  didn’t  you  know?  we’re  professional  pornstars.❞  an  over  the  top  wink,  followed  by  the  bartender  giving  both  of  them  a  look  that  screamed  ‘i  don’t  get  paid  enough  for  this’.  ❝she’s  the  pussy  whisperer  and  i’m  a  hole  in  cum…  look  us  up,  babes.❞  he’s  snapping  his  fingers  to  add  onto  their  show.

as part of the mayhem family, luciana has met her fair share of characters in the social scene throughout the years, but wesley is proving to be a breed of his own. she sips her drink, head shaking in mock disappointment at the homme’s ‘not the kitty’ comment. ❝ here i thought, you might have a secret side gig as a pussy whisperer, ❞ she teases, winking at him, ❝ but alas, you’ve shattered that illusion. ❞ his dramatic sigh and the way he hams up his battle scars only fuel her amusement. her gaze returns to his scratched arms, fingers still drawing imaginary lines in the air. ❝ you’re a true warrior, a modern-day feline hero. ❞ she nods solemnly, as if about to award him a medal for his valiant efforts. luciana is enjoying the lighthearted conversation, even if it’s definitely the most ridiculous one she’s been engaged in in the last … 48 hours, give or take. ❝ basements are notorious for hiding all sorts of eccentricities, ❞ she muses. it’s probably because basements are rooms that need little attention when it comes to soundproofing, perfect place to house a dungeon of questionable delights or your cat cloning business, she supposes. there’s a cinema room in hers, which seems pretty tame in comparison. perhaps she should invest in a sex swing or something. ❝ maybe he’s training an army of supercats down there, you’d better watch your six, just in case. ❞ she smirks, her imagination running wild. his remaining prose earns another laugh from her, ❝ yup, good on me, indeed. ❞ she says, her tone self-deprecating and dry, making it rather obvious that her assent if far from genuine. she shakes her head as if shaking the topic away. as the conversation flows, she raises an eyebrow at his comment about being too cute to be threatened. ❝ pfft, don’t sell yourself short, wesley, ❞ lifting a hand to her heart, she continues, ❝ i’m sure there are plenty of people out there who’d be more than happy to threaten you just to get your attention. ❞ she chuckles, the alcohol warming her cheeks. she raises her glass to toast, ❝ to memorable encounters and unexpected conversations, darling. chee— ❞ her brow furrows and her mouth sinks into an exaggerated pout when she realizes her glass is empty. ❝ well, shit ! okay, watch this, ❞ the words barely leave her lips before she’s already flagging down the bartender to order more drinks. ❝ can you give me a screaming orgasm, please ? and a blowjob for my friend, ❞ she leans forward on the bar with her arms close together, pushing her cleavage even further out as she bats her eyelashes innocently at the now flustered bartender. ❝ kidding ! shots are okay, too, ❞ she says playfully, holding four fingers up.

[wesleyss]

          he  was  practically  stumbling  out  of  the  place,  towards  the  elevator,  to  reach  towards  the  beach,  which  was  private  to  the  guests  of  the  hotel,  but  considering  his  family  owned  said  hotel,  well…  he  figured  he  owned  this  area  of  the  beach.  the  sky  is  dark,  a  full  moon  shining  bright  against  the  night  stars,  and  despite  his  crappy  vision  (  thanks  to  alcohol  ),  the  scenery  was  beautiful,  the  fresh  ocean  air  kissing  his  cheeks  in  the  best  possible  way.  wesley  pops  open  the  bottle  of  overly  expensive  wine  he  had  stolen,  taking  a  swig  without  a  care  in  the  world.  god,  fancy  wine  tasted  incredible.  you  could  definitely  feel  the  difference,  that  was  for  sure.  he  closes  the  bottle  and  sets  it  down  carelessly  on  the  sand,  the  waves  crashing  against  the  shore  in  the  most  aesthetic  way,  and  wesley  swears,  it’s  moments  like  these  that  make  it  all  worth  it.  

          he’s  always  been  fascinated  by  the  ocean.  it  was  so  undiscovered,  it  was  crazy  to  think  that  there  was  more  of  it  than  land.  wesley  was  hoping  there  was  no  jellyfish  near  the  shore  (  getting  stung  sucks  ),  but  that  didn’t  prevent  him  from  following  his  impulses,  which  was  typical  for  him.  he’s  so  lost  in  the  trance  of  it  all,  he  doesn’t  notice  the  flash  go  off  behind  him  at  all.  he  starts  by  taking  off  his  dress  shoes  and  socks,  then  he  proceeds  by  dropping  his  overly  expensive  tuxedo  jacket.  sloppily  unbuttoning  the  buttons  from  his  silk,  long  sleeved  dress  shirt,  he  eventually  gets  it  off,  throwing  it  onto  the  sand  as  well,  so  now  he  only  needed  to  get  his  pants  off.

          undoing  his  belt,  that  falls  as  well,  before  his  pants  go  too,  standing  in  front  of  the  ocean  in  nothing  but  his  briefs.  shuffling  behind  him  causes  him  to  turn  around,  hazy  vision  spotting  jupiter.  at  that,  he  doesn’t  even  bother  to  hide  his  laughter.  ❝follower  much?❞  reaching  towards  the  bottle,  another  swig  is  taken,  running  the  back  of  his  palm  past  his  lips  as  the  bottle  is  placed  back  on  the  sand.  eventually,  the  briefs  come  off,  but  he  doesn’t  turn  towards  him,  muscular  back  facing  the  other,  if  he’s  even  bothering  to  look.  all  he  would  be  able  to  see  is  his  ass  anyways,  which,  plenty  of  people  have  seen  before.  ❝you  don’t  have  to  stay,  you  can  go  back  and  tell  them  i’m  okay.❞  though  skinny  dipping  minutes  away  from  midnight  in  the  ocean  didn’t  sound  safe,  but  it  sounded  adventurous  and  exciting  and  that  was  all  wesley  needed.  the  last  thing  he  felt  was  any  sort  of  shame,  bashfulness  or  insecurity  in  regards  to  being  naked  in  public.  he  knew  he  had  a  great  body,  so  if  anything,  anyone  watching  him  was  blessed.  not  another  word  is  said  to  the  other  as  he  slowly  makes  his  way  closer  towards  the  shore.

       as expected, wesley just ignored everything that jupiter said. why were these rich white boys so difficult? he sighed. wesley seemed to always do whatever he wanted, no questions asked. it was like whatever jupiter said, it was like his ears were in a different frequency, cause nothing was reaching his brain. he looked at him, rolling his eyes once again. " i know how to have fun wesley, i just know the right time and place, " he responded. jupiter took another sip of his drink and paid no attention to wesley. when he said that jupiter secretly loved when wesley bothered him, he shook his head. " oh god, please stop, " he said. why the hell would he ever want to want someone to bother him at all times, no thank you. even if the guy was cute, ' but no... stop–– he's not cute ' jupiter thought. jupiter glanced over to see wesley grabbing a bottle and when he said he was going off, he was relieved. finally some peace. " have fun... "

       when jupiter heard wesley's father yell his name, he looked towards the direction where wesley was walking and he saw him blow a kiss to his father. that made him chuckle for some reason. maybe because he understood, the pressures they get from their own father. " jupiter, " he heard his name. like clockwork, he turned to look over at his own father, his face immediately directing him towards the door where jupiter existed. he knew what the man meant. he was stuck babysitting him–– once again. " are you fucking serious, " he whispered before leaving his spot and heading out.

       jupiter sighed. the moment he left the building he could feel the soft salt air hit his face. it felt nice, to get out of there, but god, he wished he could have gone home. he tried to find wesley, following a trail of what looked like fresh footsteps, and as he looked up in the dark, thanks to the full moon, he could see a figure. he could tell that it was wesley, with those curls of his. so he sat down and got his phone out. took a photo and then sent it to his dad. he realized too late though that the flash went off. but either way, he would eventually end up dragging wesley back somehow.

[wesleyss]

          most  of  what  jupiter  was  saying  was  going  in  through  one  ear  and  coming  right  out  through  the  other.  obviously,  he  didn’t  care  about  the  events  his  father  hosted.  he  had  never  been  a  good  father  to  him,  so  acting  out  at  his  events  wasn’t  something  that  concerned  him.  he  didn’t  get  to  be  a  shitty  dad  and  then  reprimand  him  for  misbehaving  at  his  socialite  gatherings  –  things  just  didn’t  work  that  way.  jupiter  didn’t  know  his  father  well  enough  to  know  why  he  didn’t  bother  to  care  about  how  he  made  the  lafleur  name  look,  and  well,  wesley  didn’t  think  he  would  ever  care  to  find  out  either.  not  that  he  would  ever  tell  him  anyway.  the  last  thing  he  needs  is  anyone  knowing  his  traumas.  ❝no.❞  he  replies  simply,  not  bothering  to  sugarcoat  shit.  at  the  mention  of  him  being  childish,  he  chuckles.  ❝or  maybe  you  just  don’t  know  how  to  have  fun.❞  he  replies  simply.  a  shrug  rolls  off  his  shoulders  at  his  following  question.  ❝i  do,  but  i  know  you  secretly  love  it  when  i  bother  you.❞  the  smirk  comes  back  in  a  way  that’s  honestly  ‘punch  me’  worthy.  he  was  cocky,  overly  confident  and  often  times  smug,  but  at  least  he  never  bothered  to  hide  that  part  of  himself.  he  does  have  depth,  sure,  but  that  isn’t  a  side  of  him  he  ever  lets  anyone  see.  he  would  rather  have  people  think  he’s  a  narcissistic  jerk  more  than  ninety  percent  of  the  time,  it  was  so  much  easier  that  way.  

          a  hand  hovers  over  his  heart,  mouth  parting  open  the  slightest  bit,  as  if  jupiter  seriously  wounded  him  with  his  words.  ❝ouch.  hurtful?❞  his  response  drips  with  sarcasm,  somehow,  sounding  more  like  a  question.  another  laugh  leaves  his  lips,  clearly  not  at  all  offended  by  jupiter’s  words.  it  took  a  lot  to  anger,  hurt  or  offend  wesley.  if  he  was  easily  moved  by  things,  he  would’ve  ghosted  jupiter  the  second  they  met  each  other,  but  his  resistance  to  words  was  as  admirable  as  it  was  baffling.  growing  up  in  this  industry,  rich  and  in  the  spotlight,  he  was  used  to  people  having  all  types  of  opinions  about  him.  he  had  been  receiving  hateful  comments  since  he  was  a  literal  child,  so  jupiter’s  responses  were  walks  in  the  park  for  him.  ❝okay,  well,❞  he  grabs  a  bottle  from  behind  the  bar  when  the  bartender  isn’t  looking,  ❝i’m  gonna  go  do  that  terrible  idea.  you  stay  here  and  have  fun  fake  smiling  and  acting  picture  perfect  as  if  this  event  will  somehow  have  an  impact  on  global  warming  or  something.❞  he  walks  away  from  the  other,  stumbling  a  bit,  towards  the  door.  the  beach  was,  thankfully,  right  behind  this  building  that  belonged  to  his  father.  another  oceanside  hotel  no  one  asked  for.  ❝wesley!❞  he  hears  his  father’s  voice,  to  which  he  turns  around  and  blows  him  a  kiss  before  replying,  ❝au  revoir!❞  opening  the  door,  he  doesn’t  bother  to  look  back.

       wesley was so damn I R R I T A T I N G . how could anyone be so fucking annoying to the point that they didn't care that they were being a nuisance. jupiter rolled his eyes. every word that came out of wesley's mouth was like pins and needles poking at his ears. he never understood how anyone could be so cocky. he was always this way, from what jupiter had known. and jupiter always felt like he could never escape him. it was like his father knew wesley would act up and jupiter would end up being the one babysitting him. an event that his father was hosting, and yet wesley didn't give an ounce of attention of what was happening. " do you though? " he scoffed. jupiter grabbed a drink, hoping that maybe he could drown himself with liquor so that he didn't have to remember this conversation he had with the other male. " stop being childish, wesley. we're not teenagers anymore, " he said, remembering the days of them as kids. wesley definitely didn't grow out of his childish ways. " wesley, don't you have other things to do than bother me? " he sighed. " i'm not going down the beach with you, and you drowning would be the least of my worries. " jupiter turned his attention to the crowd, watching as others spoke, drinking, being merry. and here he was feeling like his night was doomed. " it's a terrible idea, " jupiter finally smiled, the fakest one yet before walking away. // @wesleyss

[wesleyss]

          well,  this  night  certainly  just  got  a  lot  more  exciting.  he  was,  for  the  lack  of  better  words,  unintelligent  in  a  lot  of  aspects.  when  it  came  to  flirting,  however,  he  might  as  well  have  some  type  of  diploma.  something  inside  wesley’s  heart  and  soul  told  him  gabe  wasn’t  straight,  even  if  he  apparently  wasn’t  out  to  everyone.  ❝i’m  sure  it’s  a  pretty  sight.❞  confident  and  smug  as  ever,  he  gets  up  from  his  seat  beside  him  and  looks  back  at  the  raven  haired  male,  almost  challengingly.  ❝you  can  come  with  me  to  get  my  jacket  out  of  one  of  the  coat  rooms,  if  you’d  like.❞  he  didn’t  bring  a  jacket.  ❝then,  you  know,❞  he  shrugs  casually,  his  smirk  intensifying  as  he  takes  a  few  steps  back,  ❝maybe  you  can  look  straight  at  me  from  other  angles.❞  with  that,  he  walks  away  from  him.

       if people knew gabriel, they'd know that he was a bit of a flirt. and when it came to pretty guys like wesley, well–– how could he say no. and he had a cute little face. and a nice smile, and lips he would be very okay to kiss. " yea, something like that, " he chuckled. " oh–– I N T E R E S T I N G . and to answer your question, there is one that i find very interesting, " he responded, taking a sip of his drink, eyes locked on the other. " i'm looking straight at him, " gabriel responded. // @wesleyss

[wesleyss]

          to  be  fair,  wesley  was  fully  aware  of  the  fact  that  jupiter  wasn’t  fond  of  him,  even  in  his  clearly  intoxicated  state  (  he’s  not  that  stupid  ).  however,  he’s  also  convinced  that  one  day,  jupiter  will  fall  for  him,  so…  apparently  he  is  that  stupid.  still,  jupiter’s  resting  bitch  face  didn’t  prevent  him  from making  conversation.  if  anything,  he  enjoyed  how  blatantly  rude  he  was  towards  him  –  it  was  honestly  beyond  entertaining.  he  laughs,  longer  than  necessary,  evidently  not  sober  at  all.  ❝of  course  i  realize  what  kind  of  event  this  is!  i’m  actually  hurt  that  you  would  think  i  don’t,❞  he  wasn’t,  really,  ❝but…  the  truth  is  i  kind  of  don’t  care.  what’s  gonna  happen  exactly?  i  get  kicked  out  of  an  event  being  hosted  and  funded  by  my  father?  he  owns  this.  if  anything,  i’ll  be  the  one  to  kick  everyone  out.❞  he  wouldn’t  of  course,  but  he  did  essentially  have  the  power  to.  again…  he  didn’t  care  enough  to  take  any  sort  of  action.  wesley’s  shaking  his  head,  words  nearly  slurring,  but  not  quite  yet.  his  black  gel  nails  tap  against  the  table,  a  neat  brow  being  raised.  ❝ahh,  i  see  what’s  going  on  here.❞  a  lie,  obviously.  ❝you’re  secretly  scared  i’ll  make  better  sandcastles  than  you.  i  mean,  look,  there’s  nothing  to  be  ashamed  of…  you  can’t  be  good  at  everything.  maybe  i’m  just  better  than  you  at  that,  among  many  other  things.❞  he  doesn’t  think  it’s  possible  to  be  more  irritating,  but  when  he  opens  his  mouth  again,  he  somehow  manages  to  top  it.  ❝we  can  go  for  a  swim.  maybe  you’ll  get  lucky  and  i’ll  drown,  is  that  not  a  sight  you  would  love  to  see?  if  i’m  even  luckier  though,  you’ll  swim  in  and  save  me!  it’ll  be  like  a  gay  version  of  the  titanic,  without  the  freezing  to  death part.❞  despite  jupiter’s  annoyed  expression,  wesley’s  smile  doesn’t  falter.  in  fact,  it  gets  even  bigger,  emerald  eyes  looking  into  his  darker  ones.  ❝blink  for  yeah  wesley,  that’s  a  great  idea.  breathe  for  hell  yeah  wesley,  that’s  a  fucking  great  idea!❞  jesus  fucking  christ.

       jupiter was use to these type of events. did he like going to them? absolutely not. but did he do so because his father wanted jupiter to show face, definitely that. of course, whenever his older brother wasn't around, he was dragged. he always felt like he was dragged regardless. he didn't understand why, seeing as jupiter wanted nothing to do with his father's company. but whatever was good for his father, for the company so the press could write about it. he was on his third hors d'oeuvres when he heard a familiar voice, one that he thought he'd never hear from again. god, out of all nights, why did it have to be tonight that wesley lafleur decided to grace his presence. " thanks, " he said sarcastically. " wesley, i don't need you to tell me that i'm looking S T I F F . clearly, i don't want to be here, and even more now, " he responded. when he felt the other's hand on his, he grabbed the other's hand and moved them so they were on his side. " don't.... do you not realize what kind of event this is? " he looked at the other. " hmm, i'm alright thanks. i'm not here to ditch an event my father was invited to just so that i can babysit a lafleur. "

[wesleyss]

          fancy  events  like  these  made  wesley’s  skin  crawl  to  this  day,  despite  the  fact  that  he’s  been  to  more  of  these  in  his  lifetime  than  he  can  count,  and,  will  definitely  continue  going  to  more  as  things  progressed  (  nepo  baby  or  whatever  ).  he’s  already  about  five  drinks  in,  very  tipsy,  but  not  completely  drunk…  yet.  he’s  made  a  mini  tower  out  of  caviar,  hands  shaking  the  slightest  bit,  his  vision  not  the  best  at  the  moment.  it's  short  lived  when  someone  accidentally  knocks  against  the  table  and  knocks  down  his  mini  tower,  causing  him  to  blow  a  raspberry  at  them,  immature  as  ever.  letting  out  a  sigh,  he  looks  around  the  room,  spotting  the  one  and  only  jupiter  randolph,  sitting  up  right  near  the  bar,  looking  as  impeccable  as  ever.  for  whatever  reason,  he  thinks  it  would  be  a  fantastic  idea  to  approach  him.  nearly  knocking  down  the  well  designed  chair  by  the  bar,  he  manages  to  sit  on  it,  plopping  down  beside  the  other  and  giving  him  a  stupid  smile.  ❝hey  you.❞  he  tells  him,  the  grin  not  leaving  his  lips,  as  if  jupiter  could  actually  tolerate  him,  when  it  was  completely  the  opposite.  ❝you  look  very,  very  pretty  today  –  has  anyone  told  you  that?  i  think  you  deserve  to  know  you  are  the  prettiest  guy ever.❞  jesus  fucking  christ,  wesley.  for  a  moment,  he  gets  distracted  by  a  waiter  carrying  a  tray  with  different  colored  appetizers  arranged  by  size.  he’s  quick  to  come  back  to  reality,  though.  ❝but  you’re  so  stiff…  loosen  up  a  little!❞  he  grabs  his  shoulders  and  gives  him  a  little  shake,  letting  out  a  laugh  afterwards,  one  that  was  loud  enough  to  get  the  attention  of  a  few  individuals  by  a  table  near  them,  clearly  whispering  about  wesley’s  behavior,  but  little  did  they  know,  he  couldn’t  care  less.  ❝anyways,  i  was  thinking,❞  never  a  good  idea,  ❝maybe  we  can  ditch  this  and  go  hang  out  by  the  beach  and  make  sandcastles.  what  do  you  say?❞ // @jrndlph

[wesleyss]

          he  shrugs  casually.  ❝maybe  a  few,❞  wesley  replies,  matching  his  grin,  mischievous  twinkle  in  his  emerald  hues,  ❝but  i  want  you  to  tell  me  yours  first.❞  he  makes  that  very  much  clear,  leaning  in  a  little  closer.  ❝deal?❞

"i think a reward is only fitting," mattia smiled as he allowed his hand to fall to his side, "did you have anything in mind?" he arched an eyebrow, "other than sharing my party favors?" he felt it was important to make that distinction.

[wesleyss]

          he’s  giggling,  the  alcohol  clearly  creeping  up  on  him  in  the  best  way  possible.  it  takes  a  lot  for  him  to  get  properly  drunk,  but  it  doesn’t  take  a  lot  for  him  to  start  acting  like  a  fool  (  it  actually  doesn’t  take  anything  at  all  ).  ❝right?  if  only  more  people  thought  like  us,  the  world  would  be  such  a  better  place.❞  definitely  not.  if  anything,  the  world  would  be  in  absolute  shambles  if  everyone  had  the  mentality  that  wesley  and  pepa  had.  in  wesley’s  defense  (  which  is  none,  honestly  ),  his  family  has  always  blamed  his  actions  and  impulsive  behaviors  on  his  adhd,  but  something  in  his  peanut  sized  brain  tells  him  that  might  not  be  entirely  it.  when  it  comes  to  pepa,  well…  go  figure.  the  french  male  scrunches  up  his  nose.  ❝okay…  don’t  be  yucky  now.❞  is  all  he  can  reply  in  regards  to  the  dick  matter.  wesley  is  conceited,  but  even  he  thinks  talking  about  his  dick  is  going  too  far.  to  each  their  own,  though.  the  more  the  other  keeps  talking,  the  more  wesley  can’t  help  but  furrow  his  eyebrows,  obviously  not  in  approval  with  what  he  had  to  say.  finally,  a  shameless  laugh  leaves  his  rosy  pink  lips,  as  if  pepa  was  talking  like  a  mad  man  or  something.  ❝how  the  hell  am  i  supposed  to  figure  out  what’s  been  going  on?❞  he  questions,  genuinely  wondering  how  in  the  world  pepa  thought  he  would  manage  to  get  information,  if  he  hadn’t.  ❝what,  am  i  just  supposed  to  follow  her  around?  pull  a  joe  goldberg  or  something?  you think she's just going to blindly trust me with all her hidden gossip because i'm gay and apparently, no one gossips like we do? be  so  for  real  right  now.❞

he lets another chuckle roll past his lips as he looks at the homme before him ❝ anyone who decides to say otherwise must be insane , don’t you think ? ❞ he adds on as he finishes what is left of the amber liquid in his glass . wesley and pepa were the most dangerous pair that there was , simply because both of them had no worries for consequences , anything that pepa did was fixed by money and power ( including his sister , who covered his tracks with everything and everyone ). hearing wesley’s prose causes a chuckle to escape past his brims ❝ but I do have a great dick , and it’s not douchey —— es la pura verdad. ❞ he says cockily as he taps the glass and the bartender begins to fill it ❝ a double . ❞ he adds on as he turns to the other listening to what he is saying and he is not lying , usually mafe is throughly open with him , she’s not secretive with him but he has to wonder why isn’t she sharing this with him ❝ how about you help me out , help a brother out and figure out what’s been going on ? you can pick your own reward just take me off the list . ❞

[wesleyss]

          it  was  no  secret  that  wesley  was  flighty  (  really  a  nice  way  to  say  he’s  a  whore  ).  he  sees  a  pretty  guy,  they  show  interest,  and  well,  who  is  he  to  say  no?  it’s  definitely  not  his  fault  that  the  man  before  him  happens  to  be  like,  really  fucking  attractive.  plus,  he’s  sure  nothing  will  come  of  this  –  he  just  wants  to  have  fun.  ❝the  face  for  it?❞  he  repeats,  mimicking  his  smirk.  ❝like…  pretty?❞  truth  be  told,  he  knows  he’s  hot,  but  it  would  be  nice  to  hear  it  coming  from  him  too.  at  his  question,  wesley  shrugs.  ❝i  can  think  of  one  person.❞  he  replies,  eyes  locking  with  his,  tone  flirty  and  blatantly  obvious  that  he  was  talking  about  him.  ❝have  you  met  anyone  you  found  interesting?❞

       gabriel chuckled. the fact that the other admitted he was usually the plus one to things was S H O C K I N G since he looked like he could be an actor. " i see. well, i'm surprised, since you look like you could act or be a model, " he stated. " and there is my answer, " he laughs. " well, you got a face for it, that's for sure, " gabe smirks. it was no lie, the other had a gorgeous looking face. and his energy oozed confidence, which most models had. " that's cool. have you met anyone you found interesting yet? " he smiled, noticing the flirtatious tone on his voice and the smirk that followed. he took a sip of his drink before eyes were back on the other.

[wesleyss]

          evidently,  he  didn’t  have  any  functioning  brain  cells  –  that  much  was  obvious,  as  he  couldn’t  tell  that  eddie  was  being  completely  sarcastic  with  his  response,  lying  as  if  he  was  getting  paid  to  do  it.  wesley  is  full  of  awful  ideas,  but  this  one  definitely  tops  the  list  (  for  this  week,  at  least  ).  he’s  grinning  like  a  mad  man,  clapping  his  hands  excitedly,  clearly  not  backing  down  on  his  kindergarten  like  idea.

          ❝right?  i  definitely  think  this  could  be  the  next  halloween  series…  it’ll  be  like  michael  meyer  never  even  existed.❞  michael  myers,  wesley…  michael  myers.  ❝there  could  also  be  a  blender,  and  aside  from  the  food  being  eaten  alive,  it’s  also  mutilated  in  those  things  –  imagine  the  horror!❞  obviously,  he  needs  to  be  talked  out  of  this  idea,  as  he’s  already  planning  on  how  much  a  human  sized  blender  prototype  would  cost.  money  isn’t  the  issue  here,  the  issue  is  his  clear  disregard  for  anything  even  remotely  intelligent.  ❝now  i  just  need  to  think  of  where  i  can  get  someone  to  make  me  a  blender  that  big,  do  you  know  anyone?❞

NOTHING COULD'VE PREPARED Eddie to hear what had just come out of Wesley's mouth. For a few moments, Kohler's shock was more than evident - blue hues displayed confusion, the crease between his brows more prominent due to his frown, and thin lips slightly parted. Yet, after a while in total stillness, his expression softened.

"Yeah… Sure…" Muttered, still looking at the younger man questioningly. He was still anticipating the moment when the other would reveal that it was all a joke, but when he realized that that point wouldn't come any time soon, the actor grinned. "Genius... Complete genius, Wes!" He lied, smacking his hand on the table with false enthusiasm. "I want to see it, dude. I bet that would make a great movie." It would be a terrible movie, but he just couldn't pass up the opportunity to encourage a terrible idea, especially if he faced no consequences.

[wesleyss]

          it’s  no  secret  that  wesley  is  extra  with  a  capital  ‘e’.  loud,  over  the  top  and  as  impulsive  as  it  gets,  he  rarely  (  or  never  )  thinks  about  the  words  that  leave  his  lips,  or  the  decisions  he  makes.  he’s  not  mean  under  any  circumstance,  but  sometimes,  he  just  says  shit,  and  it’s  obvious  it  wasn’t  fully  thought  through.  he  doesn’t  know  why  he  does  or  says  lots  of  things,  really.  to  feel  alive?  to  have  fun?  for  the  fucking  fuck  of  it?  beats  him.  his  family  blames  it  on  his  obvious  adhd,  but  he  likes  to  think  he’d  be  the  same  way  even  without  it.  wesley  just  wants  to  live  his  best  life  –  he  stopped  caring  about  people’s  opinions  a  while  ago.  the  brunette  makes  a  face  at  her  comments  in  regards  to  pussy,  but  it  makes  him  laugh  either  way.  ❝not  the  kitty!  anything  but  the  kitty.❞  his  nose  scrunches  up  a  bit,  but  he’s  biting  on  his  bottom  lip  to  prevent  himself  from  further  laughing,  nodding  his  head  in  understanding,  as  if  he’ll  actually  remember  this  conversation  tomorrow,  like  what  she’s  saying  is  profound  and  life  changing  and  totally  not  a  drunk  conversation  at  a  club.  ❝i  respect  full  time  and  part  time  pussy  enthusiasts,  though  i’ll  never  be  one  myself.❞  he  doesn’t  think  he  has  to  further  elaborate  for  her  to  understand  what  he  means.  his  gaze  lowers  to  his  scratched  up  arms,  letting  out  an  over  dramatic  sigh.  ❝right?  i’m  so  brave.❞  he  throws  his  head  back,  hand  on  his  forehead,  as  if  he’s  been  seriously wounded  or  was  just  told  he  has  hours  left  to  live.  wesley  is  sure  he’ll  be  over  this  by  tomorrow  morning,  but  it  only  felt  fair  to  circle  around  it  for  the  time  being.  ❝okay  look,  i  think  enrique  looks  great  with  and  without  the  mole  –  he’s  daddy.  definitely  makes  me  wish  i  was  fluent  in  spanish.❞  he  could  understand  some  of  it,  but  he’s  french,  so  it’s  not  something  his  parents  ever  taught  him,  or  something  he  went  out  of  his  way  to  learn.  ❝well,  he  has  a  basement,  so  i  wouldn’t  be  surprised  if  he  uses  it  to  keep  fur  in  jars  and  to  clone  cats.  now  that  i  think  about  it,  he  never  let  me  in  there…  take  that  as  you  will.❞  he  continues  the  banter,  smirk  on  his  lips  as  he  takes  a  sip  from  his  drink.  bizarre  conversations  that  are  about  as  deep  as  a  typical  kim  petras  song  is  something  he  can  definitely  do,  king  of  stupidity  and  all.  ❝that,  or  maybe  just  don’t  get  with  anymore  cat  loving  dudes.❞  or  maybe  don’t  temporarily  kidnap  an  animal  that  doesn’t  belong  to  you,  but  hey,  to  each  their  own.  his  green  eyes  wander  towards  her  hand,  shrugging.  ❝don’t  know  if  that  ship  will  ever  sail  for  me,  but  good  on  you.❞  he  smiles,  the  alcohol  slowly  but  surely  beginning  to  hit  him.  wesley  doesn’t  think  he’ll  get  married  like,  ever.  part  of  him  wants  to,  but  he’s  too  all  over  the  place  to  fully  settle  down,  at  least  for  now.  he  shakes  her  hand,  a  smile  with  teeth  this  time.  ❝i’m  wesley.  also,  i’m  way  too  cute  to  be  threatened  by  anyone,  so  definitely  not.❞  maybe  she’s  heard  of  his  family,  or  the  scandals  he’s  been  in,  or  just  knows  him  because  of  his  modeling  and  influencer  status,  or  even  the  drum  covers  he  posts  on  youtube,  or  perhaps  she’s  just  lying  about  him  looking  familiar.  either  way,  wesley  is  fine  with  any  of  those  choices.

she bursts into laughter at the homme’s over-the-top response. he exudes energy, probably a side effect of youth or maybe he’s on something ── either way, it makes her eyes sparkle with amusement. she can’t help but admire his flair for story telling, even if it’s about something so peculiar like a cat caper, and feels drawn into the sheer absurdity of it all. as he elaborates further, luciana muffles a smattering of chuckles with her hand, shoulders slightly shaking, and fights the urge to ask him to tell her how he really feels about cats. the brunette is 100% a dog person, eddie is the one who likes cats while luciana likes the occasional cat video. ❝ i like to pet the kitty, ❞ she begins, hand over heart in mock hurt, ❝ on behalf of full-time and part-time pussy enthusiasts, myself included of course, yes to the offense. ❞ she knows that’s most definitely not the kind of pussy he is referring to, but she refuses to let him monopolize all the fun when it comes to absurd comments. her gaze flicks down to wesley’s arm, which looks like it had an encounter with a miniature tiger. ❝ those are some impressive battle scars, ❞ she quips, her fingers lightly tracing an invisible cat scratch in the air, ❝ one could say the cat really left a lasting impression on you. ❞ she pauses for a moment, as if processing his remaining prose. ❝ a customized cat calendar ? ❞ she gasps as if horrified, though, truthfully, she’s already thinking about cute costumes she can dress canela in for her own customized dog calendar. ❝ that’s a level of obsession even i can’t comprehend, and i once wrote an eulogy for enrique iglesias’ mole after he got it removed. ❞ by the time he wraps his story up, luciana is giving him two thumbs up. ❝ you really have a way with words. i was half-expecting the cat owner to have a secret lair and a cape by the time you were done. ❞ as people often say, no good story starts with someone eating salad, so kidnapping a cat is already a more interesting choice, she thinks. ❝ i hope you learned a valuable lesson from the experience, at least. like, perhaps, always carry antiseptic, ❞ she suggests, lips curling into a playful smirk. at the unexpected compliment, her hand sweeps through the air, as if presenting herself like a dazzling work of art. ❝ i’m flattered by your impeccable taste, ❞ gesturing subtly to the elegant yet conspicuous wedding ring on her finger, she adds, ❝ but that ship’s sailed. ❞ she doesn’t offer any further details and keeps her tone light, he seems harmless enough but between califoreal and her father-in-law’s eagerness to make her look bad in the media, one can never be too careful. ❝ that might explain why you look kinda familiar, i thought maybe i’d threatened you before or something ! ❞ she extends a hand out, ❝ i’m luciana, by the way. ❞

[wesleyss]

          wesley  shakes  his  head  in  mock  disapproval,  like  a  father  scolding  his  child.  ❝that’s  true.  another  arrest  would  be  fatal,  definitely  can’t  have  that  happen.❞  he  can’t  tell  if  she’s  joking  or  not,  but  even  if  she’s  dead  serious,  he’s  not  about  to  judge.  he’s  been  in  trouble  with  the  law  a  few  times  before  over  really  petty  things,  but  he  has  no  record.  wesley  has  come  to  learn  that  money  can  literally  buy  your  way  out  of  anything.  ❝i’d  be  upset  if  we  didn’t!❞  he’s  smiling  widely,  the  alcohol  slowly  but  surely  creeping  up  on  him,  just  happy  to  be  alive  at  the  moment.  he’s  really  talkative  and  outgoing  so  it’s  always  been  easy  for  him  to  make  friends,  but…  it’s  also  been  easy  for  him  to  make  enemies  as  well.  not  that  he’s  upset  over  that  or  anything,  but  he  knows  he  can  be  a  lot  for  some  people.  ❝any  ideas  on  the  adventure  we  can  go  on?  i  have  a  few,  but  maybe  yours  are  better  than  mine.❞

scout blinked in amusement before bursting into laughter. this guy, unlike way too many others that she's met in the past, can actually take a fucking joke; she could tell. " believe me, i thought about it. that'd just be another arrest though and it'd be so inconvenient. " scout wasn't necessarily joking, although her tone sounded like she could've been. scout was certainly no stranger to being violent in the name of fun. laughing, she leaned against the bar, already a few drinks in, and definitely planning on getting wasted. a playful smile crept onto her face, a mischievous glint in her eye, " um, yes! did we just become best friends ? "

[wesleyss]

          he  could  only  grin  in  return,  positive  he  was  full  of  shit,  but  not  about  to  call  his  bluff  if  he  was  willing  to  share  their  party  favors.  admittedly,  he’s  surprised  when  the  other  grabs  his  hand  and  leads  it  to  the  front  pocket  of  his  jeans,  yet,  wesley’s  smile  only  intensifies,  reaching  inside  their  pocket  and  feeling�� a  baggie  in  there.  ❝i  found  it.❞  he  tells  him,  pulling  it  out  and  keeping  it  inside  his  hand.  ❝do  i  get  a  reward  for  finding  it  so  quickly?❞

"well of course," mattia grinned, "i have no reason to lie," he added. though once again his statement wasn't entirely true. he'd never needed a reason to lie in the past. "are you sure you don't want to check for yourself?" he teased before taking ahold of wesley's hand and guiding it toward the front pocket of his jeans.

[wesleyss]

          sure,  he  was  an  absolute  mess,  but  truthfully,  there  was  never  a  dull  moment  with  him.  wesley  was  always  on  some  stupid,  ridiculous  shit,  but  at  least  he  wasn’t  boring.  the  french  male  finds  himself  nodding  his  head  at  her  answer,  genuinely  curious  if  his  friend  was  bullshitting  or  if  there  was  some  truth  to  their  words,  but  he  isn’t  too  sure  he’ll  remember  to  actually  look  it  up.  it’ll  probably  slip  his  mind  sooner  rather  than  later.  ❝i  think  my  driving  has  gotten  better,❞  it  definitely  hasn’t,  ❝people  will  roast  my  driving  skills,  but  did  they  die?  no.  did  i  crash?  also  no,  so  i  think  i’m  good.❞  what  a  stupid  way  of  looking  at  things,  but  then  again,  he  has  a  dumb  way  of  looking  at  everything.  ❝besides,  that’s  what  personal  drivers  are  for,  am  i  right?❞

she sighed dramatically, cupping her hands over her own cheeks, " i have no idea, truly. " logan truly valued having a friend like wesley. sure, she valued all of her friends more than anything, but wesley's stories never failed to make her laugh, including this one. she listened with a smile, head tilted, brows furrowed and eyes wide, " do ... i think having a 'hello kitty' tattoo signifies devil worship ? no. no, " she choked out a laugh, " i definitely don't. could be a thing though; i'd definitely google it. " she wasn't very well - versed in trendy things; maybe this was a new internet thing. who knows ? " mm! " she hummed, taking a drink of her water, " that's cool, mate ! i still can't do that. the whole 'gays can't drive' thing really holds up, i think. "

[wesleyss]

          wesley  doesn’t  think  twice  about  a  lot  of  things.  not  the  things  he  does,  or  the  things  he  says,  impulsive  to  the  core,  all  smiles  and  zero  thought  behind  them,  head  empty,  if  you  must.  it  doesn’t  cross  his  mind  for  a  second  that  the  person  sitting  beside  him  might  just  be  the  biggest  snake  california  has  ever  known,  but  then  again,  he’s  never  been  great  at  reading  people.  in  fact,  when  he  turns  to  look  at  him,  he  strikes  wesley  as  someone  respectable  and  intelligent,  someone  with  morals  and  a  genuine  heart.  his  second  thought  is  ‘whose  grandfather  is  this?’,  assuming  he  probably  doesn’t  even  know  how  to  turn  on  a  computer,  let  alone  run  an  entire  anonymous  blog  trash  talking  anyone  and  everyone.  he  gives  the  other  an  immediate  pass,  positive  he  was  as  harmless  as  a  pile  of  leaves.  odds  are,  he  wouldn’t  remember  a  lot  of  tonight,  so  he  might  as  well  get  everything  off  his  chest.

          a  chuckle  leaves  his  lips,  a  lot  of  what  the  other  was  saying  entering  one  ear  and  immediately  exiting  through  the  other,  a  pretty  face  with  little  to  no  substance.  ❝i  didn’t  understand  a  good  amount  of  what  you  just  said,  not  gonna  lie.❞  he  grabs  the  drink  the  bartender  places  in  front  of  him,  taking  a  good  chug,  setting  it  back  down,  then  resting  his  cheek  against  his  hand,  elbow  on  top  of  the  table  as  he  grinned  at  the  other.  ❝you  talk  kind  of  fancy.  you  sound  like  you  read  a  lot.❞  there  he  goes  again,  just  saying  stuff  because  he  can  with  zero  knowledge  of  whether  that’s  true  or  not.  truly,  some  of  the  things  that  he  says  is  ‘punch  me’  worthy,  but  he  likes  to  tell  himself  he  gets  away  with  things  because  he’s  cute.  after  all,  wesley  isn’t  a  mean  person.  he’s  just  like…  not  that  bright.  yeah,  that’s  it.

          he’s  twirling  the  little  umbrella  in  the  drink  absentmindedly,  humming  nothing  under  his  breath  for  a  split  second.  ❝i’m  not  a  bad  person,  you  know?❞  jesus  fucking  christ,  wesley.  ❝i  think  people  just  overreact.  like  i  took  your  cat  for  a  second  because  i  like  you,  not  because  i’m  crazy  or  anything.❞  stealing  someone’s  cat  to  get  their  attention  is  kind  of  crazy,  but  go  off.  ❝like  i  didn’t  do  anything  seriously  wrong.  he’s  probably  just  like  that  because  he’s  a  cancer.❞  blaming  his  zodiac  sign  only  sounds  reasonable,  of  course.  he  rolls  his  eyes,  now  sipping  on  his  drink,  venting  to  the  worst  person  imaginable,  resisting  the  urge  to  reach  over  and  poke  his  glasses  for  the  fuck  of  it.  

          ❝get  the  pornstar  martini.  or  a  long  island,  or  a  blueberry  margarita…  those  are  really  good.❞  he  replies,  grinning  like  the  idiot  he  is.  at  his  question,  he  shrugs.  ❝i’m  a  model  and  an  influencer.  my  family  also  owns  hotels  and  lounges  worldwide.  sometimes,  i  post  drum  covers  on  youtube.  i’m  wesley.  wesley  lafleur.❞  a  pause,  as  he  comes  closer  to  the  other.  ❝are  you  going  to  be  my  emotional  support  bestie  tonight?❞

SIMON has reached a verdict, just as he has spent the entire evening reaching for fruity neon shots he never ordered to cope with his alleged acquirement of a degree in mixology and counseling psychology: he is way past the point where getting drunk in a club with pretty people is fun. for one thing, the people are barely pretty. they’re just petty, made up to the neins with the latest supersaturated pinterest trends, overdone nails clinking against novelty glasses about one more knockoff lipstick brand from shattering. despite his generally gregarious disposition, an expanding portion of which was also generally made up, he had never been a party animal, never desired to have his name memorised by bartenders as sober as their puking patrons. yet, here he was, awaiting the arrival of a director who’d probably directed his cab to another trashy institution of ethanol compounds that had expired before the first neanderthals ooga-boogad their way into discovering wheels, another dressed-up discotheque drowning in the grease of everyone’s phones and nobody’s work ethic. the least these imbeciles can be is fun. luckily for simon’s sanity, he hasn’t forgotten how fun listening to the ruining of someone’s life can be. ❝ no, ❞ he says, jaw dropped as far as it can go without actually unhinging. simon had never thought of the stage as a place for his style of professional pretending, but darn it if he isn’t giving the audition of his life right now for the role of mister manwhore’s one-night shrink. there is something about the other’s face, punchable qualities aside, that piques summer macbeth’s curiosity, her presence stabbing at simon’s consciousness as he nods to the tune of bass-boosted edm and self-pity. men are garbage, but they’re useful garbage for califoreal.com, and simon isn’t about to let a business opportunity drunkenly stumble away from him. ❝ men are such garbage, buddy. they’re the garbage the universe meant to take out centuries ago, but then the universe left them on the planet for a bit and when it came back the place was so stinked up the universe gave up. obviously, nothing has, is, or ever will be your fault. side note, though, i believe equating bravery to an organ most often found in people assigned male at birth is kind of a bad move in a public space. liquid courage has quite the hold on some, though, so i won’t hold it against you. ❞ liar, liar, throat on fire. simon wants to go home in a limousine with nothing for entertainment save for self-help books, to chug down his family’s hangover cures after racking his brain for translations of their hebrew measurements, to talk to a kid he knows would never be stupid enough to fall for a man – to talk to his daughter, then. that’s what he hopes, anyways, and clearly the universe didn’t care about his hopes and clearly every kid in california wants to be stupid enough to pull off this shit without being treated as he would have been a few decades back, so he clears his throat of its boiling deceit and sticks on a smile, fiddles with his hair, fixes his glasses. he’s a good guy, here and now. he is the good guy here. not that it’s a particularly difficult thing to be, when this guy’s what he’s working with. ❝ just wanted a few drink recommendations. i fear that we’ll need them, if you have any more stories of bobby blamer’s calibre. ❞ he shrugs, eyeing the cocktail list and seeing absolutely nothing that wouldn’t ruin his reputation in one sip. ❝ now i think of it, have i seen you in something? and i don’t mean in this club. doesn’t take 20/20 vision to know i’m a newbie here. i mean a magazine, a best of youtube compilation, the like. ❞

[wesleyss]