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csinclairr-blog · 10 years
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sms -> carter
grant: i have to see a person about a thing.
carter: what?
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csinclairr-blog · 10 years
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sms -> carter
grant: idk do you wanna come round then?
carter: is tomorrow okay with you? im really just exhausted right now to be honest
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csinclairr-blog · 10 years
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sms -> carter
grant: you don't have to you know, listen to my shit. I know you've dealt with a lot of my crap already.
carter: that goes two ways though doesn't it
carter: and i've been a dick these past few weeks
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csinclairr-blog · 10 years
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sms -> carter
grant: would you really want to?
carter: yeah, i mean. i really feel like i would.
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csinclairr-blog · 10 years
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carter & seth gave lapdances to each other ;  -- this is the aftermath.
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csinclairr-blog · 10 years
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❛ BORN FOR THE SPOTLIGHT❜
It's a spur-of-the-moment decision, urged on by the warmth of alcohol coursing through his system, and the atmosphere buzzing with some sort of understated electricity that sets the hair on the back of his neck to standing up ; Carter is used to being in the spotlight, in front of a crowd, but perhaps not precisely under these conditions. Dancing with showgirls in Vegas has never exactly been one of his life's aspirations, but he figures if he's ever going to do something like this, it might as well be now.
It's for charity, after all.
Climbing up isn't the problem, and neither is balancing the remainder of his fourth drink in one hand while moving his hips along with the ladies surrounding him -- the real work comes in when he needs to get down. There's a moment of hesitation at the edge of the stage as he takes a bow, the others in the establishment hooting, and his glass raised so he can knock back the remainder of the bitter liquid in a sort of haphazard salute. It isn't until he actually tries to reach the floor again that he realizes he's in trouble.
It's almost comical, the way his brow furrows, and he sways slightly, debating on his plan of action. Sliding down on his bum isn't too juvenile, is it? Just a precaution. Sensible. Safe.
Carter slips, falls, and hits the floor hard enough that he thinks his tail bone might bruise.
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csinclairr-blog · 10 years
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❛ WHEN THE SHARKS ARE SWIMMING ❜
It's an almost surreal experience -- like he's out of his body, watching himself beneath the water, rather than actively willing his muscles into submission to actually move. The shipwreck to his left is blurry, shimmering like a mirage, and just as he begins to swim forward again, guide at his side, one of the various sharks that occupy the massive tank decides to shift out in front of them ; Carter stops short, not for fear, but for fascination.
It isn't the first one he's seen by any means, considering how long he's already been down here, but it's still enough to send a shock to his system. Marine life surrounds him in troves, from various species of fish, to sea weed and coral reefs, to the very creatures that headline the experience, and every one of them appears completely alien to him, more like something that's come out of one of those books he used to look at as a child than real. He counts his lucky stars that he even gets to be here right now, and then follows behind the other person as they move on, keeping on track with the timeline set out for them. 
All in all, getting out of his comfort zone and allowing himself to slip loose-limbed and ready into new things has proven to be startlingly helpful to him over the past week or so, and he doesn't intend to stop even when the contest ends ; by the time he's pulling himself up out of the water, wet and slightly shivery, muscles tired and the strain on his body feeling like a good slow-swell warmth in his chest, he's ready to move onto the next thing.
He thanks his guide before he rushes off, at least, and takes the time to dry.
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❛ X-SCREAM ❜
A couple of hours later, and Carter finds himself back at Stratosphere Tower, this time with something different in mind rather than jumping into the open sky. Still just as thrilling in it's own way, one of the few rides that're part of the attraction of the place calls to Carter, and he finds himself strapped onto it with a bunch of other potential tourists who got brave enough to allow themselves the experience.
It's all a blur of motion and the shocked gasps and terrified noises of the people around him, his white-knuckled grip on his restraints pulling in his focus and keeping his heart from lodging itself permanently in his throat. He feels like he's hovering instead of falling through most of it, hung out over the vastness of Vegas, and it's almost like being on a giant teeter totter ; a giant, somewhat frightening teeter totter, that is.
He's got to say that while it is adrenaline-inducing, and definitely one-ups the shark tank, he doesn't find it to be nearly as good as the Sky Jump -- still, he manages to wobble off the ride with slightly trembling hands, now completely aware of how the X-Scream got such a charming name as that, and opts out of going on another one in favor of getting some other things out of the way.
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❛ I LOVE VEGAS ❜
The tattoo parlor he picks isn't exactly the most pleasant place to be in for any extended period of time, but he suffers through it regardless. This task, out of the many, seems to him to be one of the very most drastic, and it strikes him as somewhat odd that they'd get so few points for it -- regardless, here he is, shirt racked up as he allows a sketchy man with a neck beard to permanently ingrain the words "I love Vegas" onto his right side, just above his hip. The font is tiny, but it's still going to be there, and his cheeks colour in slightly -- make him vow to not go shirtless for at least the next three months. Ah, well.
It's over faster than he can rethink it, and he's being ushered over to a full-length mirror, where he twists himself to get a good look at it. It's barely noticeable, really -- probably a touch along the lines of bullshitting -- but it's there, and for someone like him, that really means something.
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❛ FASHION CONSCIOUS ❜
Carter really, truly, absolutely does not know how people wear these things. It seems a bit excessive, the painful pinch in his feet, and how his brow is furrowed in absolute determination as he haphazardly clacks down the street in heels so high he feels like a giant ; compared to his already somewhat impressive height of 6'1, it goes without saying that Carter Sinclair, in Louboutins, is a certified giant.
Not only does he feel absolutely ridiculous, but passerby's are gawking at him like he's some sort of sideshow, and while this would normally bother him to no end, his complete focus spent on not falling on his face is thorough enough that he hardly notices aside from mentally noting it and shoving it away for examination at a later date. Hilarious, really, how 'in the zone' he can get when he becomes dead set on actually winning something. With as much of a lead as the other teams have on his, he doubts they're going to pull through, but he'll be damned if he doesn't try.
Some sort of award should probably be bestowed upon him when he finally reaches the far corner of the busy sidewalk he'd chosen, and he sags with relief, stepping out of the shoes with his own in his hands, and ducking down to pick them up. He catches the gaze of a teenager with a cigarette between their lips -- locks eyes with him and stares him down for a few long, hard moments.
"Don't look at me." He says, and then puts his own shoes back on and walks away.
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❛WET, NAKED, & SCARED❜
He can't believe he's doing this. Adrenaline courses white hot and borderline painful in his veins as he holds the towel about his waist, stood at the edge of the fountain, and dutifully tries to ignore the people milling about him -- some recognizing him and stopping to gawk, and some not recognizing him and stopping to gawk anyway. By now, everyone is acutely aware of just what has been going on in Vegas through the last week, but this, this is really going to be something. He begins a countdown in his head, starting at 5...
     4...
          3...
               2...
                    1...
Carter drops the towel, and abruptly breaks into a sprint into the spray of water, sloshing through it with probably the most manic look on his face that he's ever had. The high of doing something completely ridiculous is better than that of even the choice pills he'd swallowed down earlier, and he finds himself biting down on the inside of his cheek to keep from grinning as he slips and practically goes down face-first into the fountain.
Of course, cameras going off is an ever-present buzz in his ears, but he tries not to pay attention to that, the halfway mark coming on fast, and then the home stretch being eaten up by his pace quicker than he could've anticipated. He'd left another towel on the other side, and the fresh tattoo on his skin stings from the cool liquid hitting it, his vow to not take his shirt off earlier in the parlor ringing in his ears, plaguing him with how absolutely stupid it had been of him to think that feasible.
It might've been all well in good during the act, but he's still grateful when he's finally covered up again, his dignity salvageable, if not his modesty as he runs a hand through his damp hair and lifts his chin slightly.
Now to hopefully not get arrested.
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csinclairr-blog · 10 years
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csinclairr-blog · 10 years
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sms -> carter
grant: well then, no.
carter: we can talk, if you want. like about things.
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csinclairr-blog · 10 years
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sms -> carter
grant: i think you're asking questions you know the answers to.
carter: maybe, but i still want to ask them, because you deserve to be asked
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csinclairr-blog · 10 years
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sms -> carter
grant: its not this week.
grant: no, but yes.
carter: well that's a bit vague
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csinclairr-blog · 10 years
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sms -> carter
grant: okay I guess, busy? I have a lot of shit outside of the band I need to do now. wbu
carter: i think we're all busy this week. i'm okay though.
carter: but honestly, no bullshit. are you really like, okay, or?
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csinclairr-blog · 10 years
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sms -> carter
grant: well I also meant general relationships with people.
grant: fine, sorry.
carter: how've you been?
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csinclairr-blog · 10 years
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sms -> carter
grant: i wanted you to, I just didn't think you were going to. You were so cold about it all and I'm really shit at this, I never pretended to be good at relationships or understand how they all work and I fuck up a lot. I was angry cause of the way you were acting towards me and Seth's just there when I need to get rid of all that kind of anger.
carter: we arent in a relationship so you dont have to be good at it or know how they work. idk a lot of mixed signals were involved and we were both at fault but its over now so can we please just put it behind us and stop kicking the dead horse
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csinclairr-blog · 10 years
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sms -> carter
grant: but I do though and you had a right to flip out, I'd do the same if it were you.
carter: i guess like after the picture and stuff i just kinda figured you would be like okay with me showing up or whatever but i was wrong and its...fine???? idk i dont really want to talk about this anymore
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csinclairr-blog · 10 years
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sms -> carter
grant: I just wanted to say sorry really...
carter: you have nothing to be sorry for so consider it fine
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csinclairr-blog · 10 years
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Carter just shrugs at Evan's questioning, mostly because his mind's making him feel like he's swimming, and his thoughts are already so far downstream that he couldn't gather them again if he tried. Sure, yeah, he supposes he had caught Seth cheating -- and as a matter of fact, that'd been one of the first things he'd said to them -- but Grant had told him the truth of it, and he's not sure which one is worse. He's not going to tell anyone ( not now, anyway ), but he's not going to just forget about it either. He's sure that Seth is very aware of that, and having the upper hand for once feels good, even if it did come along with a heavy dosage of complete humiliation. Evan didn't know the details of what he intended to do when he went to Grant's that night, but he probably gathered from the texts the gist of it ; he should know that this isn't just about being hurt, it's also about wounded pride, and that's a bad, bad combination.
Only all of the sudden, none of that seems as important as the weight of Evan's body pressing down on his lap, and how Carter's chin tips up slightly as he looks at him.
"Yeah?" He manages to get out, albeit only just, and something of that normally smooth nature floods back into him all at once as he braces himself with his palms against the mattress. He used to be good at this sort of thing, back before everything got totally wrecked, and he knows that he has it in him -- even if it's for Evan. Only a lap dance, right? Only his closest friend. Only his only friend, for that matter. It's alright. Everything's alright. Carter's reaction is very much as open as anything he does when he's this drunk, and he shifts only slightly to accommodate the new position, a smirk tugging up one corner of his mouth as he waits for Evan's next move.
"Your go, then."
When it’s become apparent that Carter isn’t getting up to get them some more drinks, he’s changing his position so that’s he’s got his head on the other’s lap. Evan’s drinking can go one of two ways— it can bring out the worst in him, or simply just make him handsy. In this case, he was handsy, considering he quite liked the other’s presence and was also in a fairly good mood on top of that. And so, he looked up at the other from his lap, listening intently to him as he spoke. Of course, it didn’t make sense to him. To his knowledge, Seth was engaged. He surely didn’t mean they’d slept together and he’d caught them, right? The vague hand gestures given, however, don’t exactly say otherwise.
“They slept together? But Seth is like.. engaged. So you’re saying he cheated on Coralie with Grant, and you caught them together?” The questions hang in the air for a few moments before he continues, “That’s really.. that’s shitty.” He definitely gets why the other is upset. Though Carter technically can’t say anything about it because they’re not together any more, he still understands why he feels that way. That’s when he shifts his gaze to look up at him again, “This is going to sound cliché as fuck to say, but I think I should take your mind off things.” Evan didn’t want to pry on the full story, knowing that would probably just upset his friend to think about, so he had other plans. With that, he stood up from the bed, tugging on Carter’s legs to bring him closer the edge of the bed before pulling his phone out of his pocket and plugging it into the docking station on the side table, allowing the music to play throughout the room. Not too loud of course, seeing as they were in a hotel room. 
“Thought I’d practice my newly acquired skill for lap dancing.” He told him simply, some what of a half-smile gracing his lips. Then well.. he’s straddling him, taking a pause for his reaction.
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