milesbellingham

[milesbellingham]

"Now that's a nickname that I don't mind sticking." Flashing Axel a shit-eating smug grin. Though Miles' personality were the complete opposite of smug. He simply believed working hard paid off. At least, in his own case. He'd dedicated his entire life to his career and reaped the benefits of doing so. Following a long sip of water, Miles' eyebrows raised at the revelation. "No way. Now, best thing since sliced bread is quite the catch. Shit, man. Good for you. I'm happy for you two. How'd you meet?"

Axel took the water bottle with a nod, his smile lingering as Miles' words bounced around in his head. The guy had a point—four championships weren’t exactly handed out like participation trophies. “Alright, alright, Mr. Take-What-You-Want,” he said, twisting the cap off. “Guess I’ll have to step up my game next round. Can’t let you think you’ve got me figured out already.” He took a long sip, letting the cool water cut through the heat of the moment. Miles’ question hung in the air, and Axel felt a flicker of hesitation before answering. What was new? A lot, honestly. Too much. But not all of it was for sharing, especially not here. Still, there was one thing worth mentioning. He set the bottle down, leaning back casually. “I’m dating now. Her name’s Shivani, and she’s the best thing since sliced bread.”

[milesbellingham]

[milesbellingham]

"No, no, by all means, kill us. Believe it or not, there's probably worse drivers than you on the track right now." An entire lie, but Miles chuckled with a slight shrug of his shoulder as he looked over at Rio now who had taken over the car as if it really were one of his tractors. "You can drive to breakfast, if we make it there in one piece. And mostly because I don't know any breakfast places here, yet. I can't promise no yelling, though, if you keep driving like that. But if I'm not talking, are you going to talk? Or are we driving in silence like weirdos?"

"Oh my god, dude! You're such a worrywart! Do you want to just drive is that what this is?" Rio laughed as he teased his friend, honestly not even minding that he was bashing his driving skills. Clearly he would never be as good as Miles was, considering his job. Rio was just happy that he could experience this. "Tractors are cooler to drive, at least I don't have you nagging at me!" Dario retorted as he finally began to slow down the car, hopeful he wouldn't give Miles a heart condition if he stopped now rather than later. "You wanna drive us to get breakfast or what? I can't focus with you yelling at me. If you ever try to teach someone to drive you need to be aware that you'd be a shit teacher, bro."

[milesbellingham]

"Now, I didn't tell you this story for pity. You see, the moral of it is that I should be that kids favorite uncle after everything I endured for him. Wouldn't you agree?" His laughter matched hers, a bright grin beaming over his features that accompanied a shake of his head. "Yes, extremely effective. So effective that they can lock out more than just children."

Dark brown hues held hers, gleaming with reminiscence of being home with his father--the upcoming holidays didn't ease the pain of the physical distance between them, but Miles was determined to have that change soon. "Very close. He's my biggest supporter. Tea peas in a pod--is that the saying you Americans use? Have I used it correctly?" Thinking of his father had fully distracted him from the meal at hand. Glancing down to poke his fork into a piece of the steak before him, chewing as he contemplated how exactly to go about this conversation. The silence following her question stretched out for a longer moment as he sipped at his wine and finally flashed her a lopsided grin. "I'm a race car driver. So, what do you do?"

Sofia had to set the glass down, doing her absolute best not to choke of the sip she had just taken as she imagined poor Miles stuck in the laundry room. "Oh you poor thing," she finally managed after gulping that small sip down. She couldn't stop her giggles at the story, loving that he rose to the occasion and gave her an embarrassing memory that matched her own. "On the bright side... it's good to know that the child locks work."

Jai had raved about that wine and Sofia didn't even pay for it. A part of her felt guilty, but that meeting led to this amazing first date so she couldn't really complain. If things went well then maybe there would be an opportunity to repay Miles for that kindness. "That makes sense. Moving can be disruptive. Are you still close with you dad?" Karting? As in?... She didn't know what he meant by that term. Was it a British thing? Sofia swiped her last bite of dinner through the sauce on her plate and finished what was a delicious meal. "Okay, well that doesn't help me at all. You tell me what you do for work and I'll tell you what I do."

[milesbellingham]

"What? And why wouldn't she be eyeing you? You look like a young Brad Pitt, bro. Or are you too close in age so I suppose that would actually make you like Pitt's cousin? Twice removed? Or-even better, those OnlyFans guys that really try to embody the actor. Lean into it." Flashing him a boyish grin, Miles flicked his gaze over his shoulder briefly once more before returning his gaze to Atlas. "So, what do you want me to do about it exactly? Go over there and tell her I noticed her staring? I suppose it would be a good story for her if she's staring at me just because she's recognized me."

Atlas couldn't help but laugh at Miles' excuses. His friend always did this - found reasons to stay in his comfort zone. "The chicken won't grow legs and walk away," he said, watching Miles fuss over his ruined shirt like it was a national crisis. When Miles tried to flip the situation around, suggesting the woman might be looking at him instead, he had to shake his head. "C'mon, I know when someone's checking me out versus when they're into my friend." He took a drink, entertained by Miles' attempts to dodge the situation. "The blonde. Two o'clock. She's checking you hard." The whole thing tickled him - here was Miles, covered in sauce and still pulling attention without even trying. That was just how things worked for some people.

[milesbellingham]

His brow cocked upwards at the confidence--though he'd truly only be lying if he said he weren't amused and greatly entertained. "I don't believe Leonardo DiCaprio has even said the words 'I'm way better looking than Brad Pitt', but I must admit, the confidence is very pleasing." There's a chortle noise in his chest that's akin to something of a chuckle as he positioned the punching bag once again to throw practice jabs. "Well, you always make me look bad considering you're much better looking than any Hollywood actors. And formula 1 drivers." He flashed her a mischievous smirk with the innocent comment before he turned his attention to the bag before him. Three hooks thrown before he stepped back for a moment. "Have I made it to Tyson mode yet?"

She had to laugh at Miles’s UFC comment—as if she’d ever want to go pro. “I’d destroy Tyson and you know it,” she joked back, though the compliment about her technique had her feeling pretty good. The whole ‘giraffe’ thing was starting to become their thing, and she kind of liked it. “Tyler Durden? Please. I’m way better looking than Brad Pitt.” Was she, though? Probably not. But you know what they say about confidence? “Come on then, show me what you’ve got. Unless you’re scared I’ll make you look bad.” Ishani knew she was being cocky, but that was half the fun. Besides, if he was going to dish it out, he’d better be ready to take it. “And for the record, I’m excellent at this. But you already figured that out, didn’t you?”

[milesbellingham]

Something of a laugh immediately escapes him, eyes crinkling with amusement at that statement. "Almond milk people are quite nutty to begin with, aren't they?" The pun made him chuckle--as cheesy as his jokes could be, a much lighter one than the previous he had issued. "Did I tell you my coffee machine spontaneously combusted on me this week?? You know, I want to like America. I really do. But it's really not working in my favor here. It's where all good things die, clearly. So if this flat white doesn't bring back the smallest will to live I fear I'll be fleeing back to England." The dramatics have already taken over in his voice, as he nodded his head to cue Isaac to walk with him.

He gets why Miles goes dark with his jokes. It works for them. The coffee shop mess keeps getting better, and Isaac's here for it. "You really went there with the fire thing. But you're not wrong about accidents. Between you and me, karma showed up right on time. This guy went full drama queen over almond milk." Miles has always been like this. Dark jokes and weird comparisons are his thing. It's one of the reasons they click so well. The almond milk tantrum guy getting his karmic comeuppance is exactly the kind of thing they'd laugh about over beers later. The universe has a sense of humour, and Isaac's living for this moment. Two friends, one coffee shop meltdown, and sweet karma doing its thing. "Want to bail? The Cozy Cup makes coffee that won't cause a public scandal. Their flat white is actually good, like real coffee."

[milesbellingham]

It had been quick--the way his gaze flickered in unison to where she'd look over to the group of bodyguards, before it slipped back to hers. "No, not quite. I'm from London, actually. England, not the one in Canada." The clarification came out accompanied with a chuckle. His smile only growing at the mention of the DJ. "I believe I've had the chance of seeing her at a show in LA. Are you from the Bay or around here?" A polite smile ever present on his features while he shook his head. "Nonsense. I wouldn't have invited you all over if I hadn't meant it." And with that, he leaned over the table to pull forth a freshly poured glass of champagne, and offer it up towards her. "Oh, there's also Clase Azul and Grey Goose if you'd prefer." His own hand was also extended, to take hers. "Pleasure to meet you, Kimberly. I'm called Miles. But we-we already went over that one." Turning his attention to the flute in his hands to offer it forward once again as if to change the topic of his slip up. "Do you have a stage name?"

Looking over her assigned group of bodyguards, she gave them the thumbs up and they were clearly playing it cool as they all nodded in unison before going back to their conversations and drinking away. This was her way of giving back as they had been nothing but great sports when it came to watching over her. Kimberly’s attention averted back to Miles as he responded to her question, “Oh nice! So you’re like a Wilmington native?” she clarified. A gracious smile appeared on her lips as he complimented her djing skills, as much as she wanted to plug MS K and her experience back then, she was trying to keep a low profile. “Definitely Noodles, she toured with Kehlani and then a couple of DJs from the Bay area.” she replied. At Miles’ offer, the heiress chuckled softly before tilting her head and asking, “Aw, that’s very kind of you. I don’t want to intrude though…I’m sure you’re enjoying some personal time, no?” She then extended her hand to introduce herself, “I’m Kimberly by the way. I probably should have started with that, apologies for the lack of manners.” 

[milesbellingham]

Accustomed to being stopped by reporters, media, fans, etc.--Miles' head was immediately snapping up from the bright screen of his iPhone in his hands. He was nearly finished with his running track, and originally had paused to check his vitals monitored by the watch on his wrist. Though the woman's voice captured his full attention. A polite smile threaded onto his lips as he nodded briskly and slipped the phone into the pocket of his shorts. "Oh, it's not trouble at all. I'm fairly new, as well, so I'll give you the same rundown I received. Though I'm a creature of habit who prefers my own coffee machine, the Cozy Cup makes a grand single origin espresso--whatever that means, but as I said, relaying--and the cafe in the Four Seasons is fancier if you're looking for an aesthetically pleasing sit down meeting spot. You don't need to buy me anything for that, by the way. Just happy to be passing along the help. Actually, I should be the one offering you a freebee--as a welcome to town."

—Open Starter (0/4)

Reyhan was still getting her footing in town. Her four years at Duke meant to she familiar with North Carolina in general, but it had been a few years, and each place had its own quirks. The first step of a successful campaign was to get to know the audience, and to do that Reyhan was going to have ingratiate herself with the locals.

"Hey, sorry — cool if I pick your brain for a minute?" she asked a passing stranger, not giving enough time to answer before plowing on. It was her proverbial 'get as much as possible through the door before it shuts' type deal, and it generally served her well. "I'm new to town, and I'm dying for a halfway decent cup of coffee. Any suggestions? And, y'know, a freebee for your troubles..." She wasn't above bribery, and if they took her up on it, she'd be able to expense it.

[milesbellingham]

His lip quirked upwards in amusement. Curiosity already gleaming in his dark eyes. "A friend?" He asked, brows raising briefly. "You know, that's the best way for a relationship to form. Because you already enjoy their company–platonically. Alright, let's see, well I'm perhaps not the best to advise on this, I may need to get back to you on that one. But... I'd say you have to trust your instincts. You know what I mean, mate? They say actions speak louder than words. How 'bout you tell me a bit about this...friend. Do they act any differently when you're together now than prior to?"

eddie assumed that anyone even remotely attractive was smooth. smoother than he was, anyways. he'd never even been on a date so he didn't know how to get through any of this. "yeah, yeah. feelings for someone." he pursed his lips and glanced down at his hands, ones that were pulling at his skin in an anxious manner. "what if, you know, i'm already really close to this person and i don't want to ruin our friendship? i mean, how do i know they feel the same way."

[milesbellingham]

"Picking up speed, are we?" Despite Miles' extensive athletic training, boxing was an activity he was newly getting into, though thoroughly enjoying. Perhaps this would become a new habit, and one that would forge a newfound friendship between Axel and himself. He'd ducked and dodged, and blocked–in a similar speed and fashion to how his counterpart had just done. And soon, his arms moved swiftly to return the jabs. "Mate, if all I had was hope do you think I'd have won that championship four times? You gotta take what you want. Y'know?" He'd stepped back to catch his breath then, sticking the glove under his arm to pull it off. "Break?" His free hand moved to grab their water bottles, offering one towards Axel before he was able to sip from his own. "So, tell me, what's new with you these days? Other than nearly taking out my eye in a ring."

A grin spread across Axel’s face at Miles' quickness. The unexpected jab made him step back—the guy had some natural talent. "Now that's what I'm talking about," he said, deflecting the next punch with smooth precision. Sweat rolled down his head as they continued. "But crying? Nah man, we're just getting started." He launched a series of quick jabs, watching how his friend handled the pressure. Their gloves smacked against each other in a steady rhythm. "Not bad… There’s hope for you yet.”

[milesbellingham]

Feigning a look of offence, Miles let out a faux scoff. "My acting is bad? I hadn't realized I was having a drink with Martin Scorsese over here. And what? You winning an Oscar with your acting? Just admit you're worried about keeping the story straight, mate." The teasing between the two of them would cease to end, and Miles couldn't stop the bubble of laughter erupting from him. "Oh, so handsome, rich, successful, and great personality aren't what you're looking for? Has anyone ever told you that you possess the worst taste?" Following a sip of his drink, Miles shook his head for added dramatics. "No crashing. I flew it perfectly. That's the story. And you can say Mike Tyson was on the plane too if you'd prefer. It's really not so bad if you don't remember, considering we can say you had one too many drinks that day. As for me, I've already got it figured out. You see, I'll just act like the very humble man that I am, and not want to gush about the fact that I saved our Vegas trip by emergency flying the aircraft." Perhaps the point was far from their reach–lost somewhere beyond Miles' imagination that had brought them to this point.

Nazim rolled his eyes at Miles, but a smile tugged at his lips. The dim bar lights made everything look a bit fuzzy. He picked up his drink and took a good sip. "Maybe we should stick with the fake girlfriend idea. Your acting is pretty bad," he said, letting the whiskey warm him up. "And please, you wish I'd hold your hand. Sorry, but you're not what I'm looking for," he teased with a quick wink. The kitten story made him laugh again. "Okay, we can use your Vegas story instead. But no crazy stuff about crashing planes or anything." All the wild stories he had made up before - like that time he claimed he wrestled an alligator in Florida. This Vegas story would probably end up just as ridiculous. "You know we'll need to remember all the details of whatever story we make up, right? And you're really bad at that when you've had a few drinks." He wanted to burst out laughing at how silly this all was, but kept his face straight. "Man, the stuff I do for my friends."

[milesbellingham]

"Halloween godfather vibes is a new one, though I'm not complaining about the sound of that. I always did like the The Godfather and Nightmare Before Christmas." A bright smile beamed over Miles lips with how excited the two of them looked. He couldn't help but chuckle–all the positive energy would turn anyone's mood around fully. "You're very welcome, Lei. I hope you like those treats." With that, he kneeled down to be at the child's eye level, extending the basket towards her. "Could you make me a small tiny promise? Don't give your mom too hard of a time with these. Yeah? We got a deal?" One hand extended to her tiny one in a handshake to solidify the deal before his gaze shifted to Malia. "You have my word. Look at that, we've started a new tradition here. How do we incorporate a reverse Christmas now?"

Malia twirled through the living room with Leilani, dancing to Monster Mash. The doorbell rang, making her daughter squeal and race to answer it. She beat her little one to the door, breathing hard when she saw Miles holding a huge pumpkin basket. "Oh my gosh, this is totally awesome!" Her voice bubbled with real happiness. "Get in here ... you're giving off major Halloween fairy godfather vibes right now." She laughed at his reverse trick-or-treating idea while Leilani hopped up and down next to her. The full-size candy bars grabbed her attention. She usually stuck to small treats, but seeing her daughter's excitement made this night different. "For real, you're the coolest friend," she said, moving aside. "Lei, tell Mr. Miles thank you."

“Thank you.” Leilani said.

She smiled, watching Leilani get excited about the basket - she loved these sweet moments with her daughter. "Real talk … we need to make this reverse trick-or-treating an every year thing ... no joke."

[milesbellingham]

For a moment, his head canted to the side. All while he took in the sight of her laughter and soon found himself joining in. Was it possible to find everything funnier, brighter with her? Or perhaps the few sips of wine had already had straight to his head. "Well I had yet to tell you how the day ended with Nika having to break the child lock on the laundry room because I had locked myself in." His laughter had paused briefly, to stare at her with a slow growing smile at his revelation.

An air of understanding hung in the space between them as he intently listened. Listened to her speak of her family, of the ones she had and hadn't had. "Well, good thing we got Jai his wine, then." He let out a soft chuckle, though there was heaviness behind it while he processed her question about his mother's move. The question was simple, but the answer felt complicated, tangled in a way he wasn't prepared to unravel just yet. "I stayed in the UK," came the delayed response, "I had my family, friends, school, had started karting and my Dad said kids need stability, so moving to a whole new country across the ocean–not ideal." The spark had returned to his eye with the subject shifting back to cars. "Sort of all of those things. Depending on the time of year." His lips quirked upwards in amusement, realizing how open ended he'd left his answer, though none of which details were false.

Sofia found herself giggling like she was fifteen years old or something. He was wrong. This was embarrassing and he was simply being a good sport about it. She couldn't help it though. Miles was saying all the right things and making her smile so hard that she was sure she looked crazy. "See? Now how is that embarrassing for you? That just tells me that you're a nurturing individual and that you enjoy being helpful. Although what exactly do you mean when you say 'disaster'? I'm incredibly curious."

She took his word for it, not knowing much about cricket to warrant any opinion. She raised her glass along with him though. Jai got to meet one of his favorite star players. It was no doubt a huge deal for him. "I'm sure it was really overwhelming for you. Not that we're comparing here, but I actually never knew my birth dad so having Jai around was really comforting for me. When your mom moved here, did you stay in the UK? You didn't want to just... come with her?" Maybe she was getting a little too deep. "Sorry if I'm prying." She didn't want to ruin a perfectly good date because she asked too many intrusive questions. "Okay..." she trailed off, eyeing him curiously, "Like what? Do you sell them? Fix them? Oh! do you design them?"

[milesbellingham]

lucien laviscount

[milesbellingham]

Despite his question, Nika clearly hadn't provided any further insight, and the confusion remained in his features. "Well, it's what garnered the most attention. It's like watching an action movie, Nik, you can't see everything, but you see the best parts." Entirely unaware he was comparing his sisters real life to a movie, but her air of nonchalance was almost contagious sometimes. Or perhaps Miles was just gullible when it came to believing almost everything Nika said. "Dark, always. Thank you. Now, I take it this newfound life of motherhood is more difficult than it looks? But it looks great on you, really."

Nika had already turned towards the kitchen, on her way in, when she had Miles' question. Stopping dead in place, she turned back towards him, her eyes piercing his like daggers. "Out of everything I just said, that's the part you caught?" She asked, "You're killing me, bro. But don't worry your pretty little head off about that one. All that matters is you're safe." She said causally, like it was nothing. Truth was, her job often did leave questions in it wake about the safety of her family. That mission had went according to plan. "What are you drinking? I got a whole cabinet. I'm taking jack -- what you want? Clear or dark?"

[milesbellingham]

Lost in the scene before them, Miles had paused next to the familiar looking stranger. Equipped with a coffee in hand, that he'd just received from the pick up counter of the same coffee shop this man was ranting dramatically about. His, however, was just fine. Though Miles didn't get his hopes high with American coffee anymore. The distraction came quickly, when the pants of the man complaining flew down to the ground. "Ooh bloody hell!" Was let out. The scene was like a horrible car accident–so bad you couldn't look away despite the view making you slightly nauseated. He looked to the coffee in his hands that suddenly became unappealing, before allowing his gaze to meet the man across from him. "Can't do anything against an accident. It's like smoking. The law prohibits it, but if there's an accidental fire–then it's a tragic incident gone wrong." Bit of a grim metaphor, Miles.  

open starter : capping ( 0 / 5 )

where : midtown !!

He stands at the corner of midtown, observing the spectacle unfolding before him. A middle-aged man in an ill-fitting suit rants about his coffee order being wrong, his face red with indignation. The universe, with its impeccable timing, chooses this moment to intervene. The man’s belt gives way, and his trousers drop unceremoniously to his ankles. Isaac can barely suppress a smile, trying to contain his amusement as the man scrambles to preserve his dignity. “Well, that’s one way to get your point across,” Isaac says to the stranger beside him. “Reckon the coffee shop should add a dress code policy?” The absurdity of the situation breaks through his usual reserve, and he lets out a soft laugh. It’s moments like these that makes Wilmington interesting (where self-important tantrums turn into a comedy show on a regular working day).