braiden-cadwell-blog

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Bring on the emo shit || Nora & Braiden

Normally Braiden took advantage of his days off, finding that without a scheduled shift to get his momentum going, his body tended to ‘stay at rest’, using the free days to ‘catch up’ on sleep.  Not so this time; fighting with his ((offscreen)) girlfriend was draining, but momentum-building, and after cleaning the whole apartment in an effort to waste time, burn some energy, take his mind off things and make the space more comfortable, he neither wanted to sleep nor be there at all.

The studio apartment was so empty and awful; the only significant thing she’d taken was the tapestry off the wall’s biggest blank space, but that was enough to turn the whole aesthetic thread bare.  After living alone for only nine hours, Braiden was already going stir crazy, and when he scrolled through his contacts looking for someone who might know what to say, he realized how few close friends he actually had.

With the intention of arriving exactly ten minutes past the hour, Braiden took the scenic route to the bar; without needing to ask, he knew when Nora’s shift ended, and she’d need a bit to turn over the tables she still had open before she could leave.  As a sign of good faith, he did all her sidework for her before she even had a chance to say ‘hi’.  When he finished, Braiden took a seat on the long, stainless steel prep table in the back, within eyeshot of the slot she’d be dropping the restaurant’s earnings into.

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texts  @ anyone

charlie: sure, if you're offering

charlie: or just like, a fixed bed

Braiden: u want me to make cookies and fix yr bed ... anything else, your majesty?

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texts  @ anyone

charlie: ha yeah, the story is i suck as a handyman and i got a lil too handy w/ my man ;)

Braiden: what do you want, a cookie??

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texts  @ anyone

Braiden: see, thats why u shoulda hired a temp to assemble it for u

charlie: thx braiden, give me a temp to fix it for me

Braiden: seems like theres a story there ... unless yr just texting to ask for help

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texts  @ anyone

charlie: this is a psa to never have sex in a bed from ikea

Braiden: see, thats why u shoulda hired a temp to assemble it for u

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jinxdes:

“hey, i’m not a fucking a liar — or, well, i’m not a fucking liar right now. i most definitely did bang somebody’s boyfriend in the bathroom but they weren’t a random person’s boyfriend. his girlfriend is the bitch who works at the starbucks down the street and purposely puts less whipped cream in my vanilla bean frappuccino than she should, so she fucking deserved it, too.”

“Yeahyeah, totally.  I’m so sure.”

“How fast did he put out?”

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“Hah!  Wow.”  

“I believe you about the car ‘cause I saw that same porsche and the bumper sticker made me want to throw up, but you’re such a fucking liar.  You did not just bang some random person’s random boyfriend in the bathroom.  Nice pun though, you musta worked on that all day, huh?”

“you know what? i’m not a nice person. i keyed a car out in the parking lot just cause it was a porsche and only a total fucking tool would bring that thing here and i fucked some bitch’s boyfriend in the bathroom not ten minutes ago. but you know what else? i still don’t think i deserve to hear high maint-ass playing nearly every fucking time i walk into this fucking bar but does anybody give a shit? obviously not, cause it keeps fucking happening.”

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Braiden fished the only lighter he had with him out of his pocket and tried to flick it on; unfortunately, this one also hadn’t been working the last time it was needed.  “Fuck.”

“Sorry . . . “  He stuck his hands back in his completely empty hoodie pockets, as if he might still find something if he persevered.  “There is the one in my car over there, but it’s, you know, attached to the car.”

“Hey, do you have a light? Mine’s busted.”

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Text Braiden @ ((#))

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The work was menial, which was exactly the way Braiden liked it.  Not needing to engage with customers also meant not needing to engage his brain, and he’d been picking up used glasses, wiping down surfaces, and exchanging nods when people made eye contact on auto-pilot.  Now that his relief had arrived, Braiden stamped his timecard took a seat at the bar while he waited for the bartender to tip him out, paying no attention to whom he sat next to. 

“Mmm, a little self indulgent, yeah.”  Being that Braiden hadn’t paid a whole lot of attention to David’s performance, the other guy’s humble-brag was filled with presumption, but Braiden knew exactly which leering creep he spoke of.  “You know what?  Go for it.  Yo ((Bartender’s name)), can we get two shots of something?”  It didn’t matter what, she wouldn’t be charging him for it, and no hard liqueur was so much more palatable than all the others that it make a real difference to Braiden.

“Of course he’s still looking; I’ll link arms with you while we shoot, but I doubt that’ll really detract him.”

    He had a huge smile spread across his flushed face, outwardly blissful in his drunken state. There was a man next to him, his strong arm curled around his small waist, bellowing out vulgar slurs disguised as compliments while he sang loudly …                       You light up my life 사랑하잖아 아파하잖아                       너도 날 걱정하잖아 조금만 솔직해져봐                       내 사랑을 forever 날 잊지 못해 후회한다면 찾고                       싶다면 더이상 울기 싫다면                       서둘러 내게 돌아와 I need you love forever     Every patron had their eyes glued to David, his voice filling the room beautifully. The solo artist booked for the evening had finished their set, and so he was showing off in front of the other patrons in the bar. Even without the other Flaming Heads, he liked to put his voice on display, hoping to get his name out there. All he really wound up doing was attracting one night stands ; the man currently kissing his neck as he tried to sing was a prime example of this magnetism he possessed.    Once he finished singing, David politely made his way to the bar, excusing himself from his admirer as he ordered a beer.    Someone familiar sat down beside him, and he turned to face them, his thick lips spread into a warm, inviting smile …

                “I admit it, I was showing off … aish. As long as that creep is gone, right ?                  Is he looking over at me still ? Pretend you’re interested in me so he’ll                  back off. Can I put my arm around you ?“

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“Mhm.”  Minnie didn’t appear to be on the verge of exploding, but the way she spoke seemed intended to antagonize.  There was no one currently on staff who would kick her out permanently if she actually started a fight, but his thoughts initially went to the drinks that surrounded them, and the busser who would be cleaning them up were they to spill. 

“She’s a little bigger than you; maybe you should, you know . . . shhh?”  He could easily pull one girl off the other and carry Minnie outside without help from the bouncer who was naturally not at his post, but the girl Minnie gestured at was seated at a table with an unpleasant customer of his who had a hair-trigger temper and handled alcohol very poorly.  

“This bitch gonna come up here and try to fucking fight me? Like really? Get the fuck out of here, I’ll end her,” Minnie said, loud enough for the perpetrator to here. “I’ll fucking curb stomp a bitch, I don’t care. Come for me.”

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OOC

well fuck me im getting sleepy. was hoping to be up later cuz i love nighttime but sometimes my body’s just like ‘NOPE, GET YR ASS TO BED RN THE CHOICE IS NOT YOURS’

if i make no more posts or it up any more inboxes, goodnight! be back after a decent night’s sleep .. or a shitty one, again depending on my internal clock.

-Mickey

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highjxrdan:

Jordan’s eyes narrowed at Braiden’s tone, rolling his eyes. He wasn’t interested in people looking down on him, least of all a bus boy at the one good dive bar in town. Braiden was a blip on his radar, but he was just drunk enough to talk to anyone. Taking another long chug of his beer, Jordan shoot his head. “It was only once, right after I turned twenty-one. Public intoxication. Leaving here, actually.”

“Wooow . . . that’s some bullshit, right there.  Pt . . . fuck the police, man.  What to they want exactly, some kind of dorm here for people to sleep it off?  And you were of age!”

“I got ticketed for that a few times for having a drink in my hand, when, you know, the no-fun-police would to cock-block parties just for funsies . . . $40′s a pop for underage drinking. So did I luck out, or am I just prettier and less petulant than you?”   Or, let’s be honest, I was likely far less drunk than you.

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highjxrdan:

“Tangents man, they’re a thing. I go off on them, can never remember how I got to the end of it. I can go from smoothies to the night I spent in jail and have no idea how I got there,” he shrugged, lowering a large sip of his beer. “Arrests, that’s something I can relate to,” he chuckled. “Oh, god, who hasn’t beat me up, honestly. “I talk a lot of shit, I hit on people’s girls, and guys,” he said with a smirk.

“Is that so?”  Braiden dropped the condescension and turned his whole body towards his peer in a feigned interest, leaning on the bar surface he’d been redundantly wiping down while he was engaged with the other guy ((idk if Braiden knows his name yet till u hit me back!!)) so as to appear busy, since he was on the clock.  

The info dropped this time indicated some recklessness on the part of the other, which Braiden might be able to exploit for some monetary benefit.  “What landed you in jail, saaaay, most recently?”

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“My God, you already ‘don’t remember’?”  Are you high?

“I said it got me arrested.  So, like, the moral was supposed to be the literal opposite of that sentiment, but okay.  I’ll bite.  Who beat you up?  And what did you say?”

“Talk shit get hit, that’s what I always say. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’ve definitely been on the receiving end of that saying. More than one black eye on this pretty face from opening my big mouth. Sorry, I don’t remember how I got on this subject. Big mouth, tangents, y’know.”

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THANK U, Trailer Mount Message Sign, THAT MEANS A LOT

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U SHOULD MIND UR OWN BUSINESS, “Freeway Condition” SIGN