#❝ ♡ 𝒘𝒆𝒔𝒍𝒆𝒚 𝒍𝒂𝒇𝒍𝒆𝒖𝒓 : mentioned . ❞

[wesleyss]

tag drop

[xwesley]

closed starter for @trismp4

❝jesus fucking christ, you look like shit.❞ he informed the other, entering his place, uninvited, unannounced, but what else is new? he looked fine too, but it wouldn't be wesley if he didn't take the piss. ❝anyways, i came because your fuck ass wasn't answering my texts. this is urgent. what if i'm on my bathroom floor dying, texting you for help? i'd be dead as hell right now and it would all be your fucking fault.❞ frankly, it was way too early for his dramatics. ❝i need you to come run a little errand with me. it's passing by the ugly side of town and i need you by my side to throw you to any potential muggers we may or may not encounter. i have some nose candy too, what do you say, you wannabe jonas brother motherfucker? would you risk it all for little ol' me?❞ to add onto the teasing, he bats his lashes over dramatically, hand on his hip as he purses his lips in the totally hideous, outdated duck face, blowing a kiss in the process.

[xwesley]

wesley’s tag drop!

[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]

          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. "

[xwesley]

a  soft  smile  tugs  at  his  lips  at  the  clear  satisfaction  on  her  face  from  his  comment,  glad  someone  felt  better  than  he  did.  ❝i  doubt  there’s  anything  dark  and  traumatic  lurking  in  the  alleyways  ready  to  kill  your  vibe.  i  mean,  except  for  the  rats.  can’t  have  new  york  without  those.❞  though,  that  much  was  given.  if  you’ve  lived  in  new  york  long  enough,  surely  you’ve  come  across  rats  before.  the  summer  sun  mixed  with  his  hangover  was  making  wesley  squint  his  eyes,  surprisingly,  managing  to  fight  back  the  scowl  that  so  desperately  wanted  to  take  place.  thankfully,  they’re  indoors  again  and  it’s  not  as  bad  anymore.  her  question  causes  him  to  chuckle,  knowing  that  what  he  would  say  might  earn  him  a  judgmental  thought  or  two,  maybe  even  a  look,  but  at  least  he  was  being  honest,  something  that  can’t  be  said  about  a  ton  of  people  in  his  circle.  ❝this  is  gonna  sound  awful,  but…  i  can’t  recall  a  lot  of  it.  i’m  guessing  most  of  it  was  probably  over  the  top  and  illegal.  i  mean,  obviously  not  murder  illegal,  more  like  nepo  party  illegal.  does  that  sound  really  bad?  i  think  that  sounds  pretty  bad.❞  sitting  down,  he  shrugs.  ❝the  one  thing  i  remember  is  waking  up  beside  this  guy  with  a  hello  kitty  tattoo…  just  imagine  the  horror.  how  could  i  stoop  so  low?  what  was  i  thinking?  clearly  i  wasn’t  thinking  at  all.❞  he  states,  no  shame  in  his  tone  at  all  despite  the  fact  that  he  didn’t  really  know  her.  he  looks  down  at  the  menu,  mostly  at  the  pictures,  because  he  couldn’t  be  asked  to  properly  read  right  now.  ❝i  saw  a  video  once  that  some  people  with  hello  kitty  tattoos  are  like,  satanists  or  something.  i’m  not  too  sure  if  that’s  accurate  or  true  at  all,  though.❞

*˖ ⊹       SHE  ACCEPTED  HIS  COMMENT  AS  A  COMPLIMENT,  and  her  face  lit  up.  "  i've  lived  here  my  whole  life.  i  think  if  the  city  was  going  to  like,  "  kill  "  my  personality,  it  would  have  done  it  by  now.  but  who  knows  ?  maybe  there's  something  dark  and  trauamtic  lurking  in  the  alleyways  just  waiting  to  snap  me  up.  if it does, i'll be sure to remember this moment. "  she  laughed.  despite  it's  reputation,  destiny  was  a  firm  believer  that  there  was  good  in  everything  if  you  just  looked  hard  enough, and that included new york city  (  perhaps  it  was  the  writer  inside  of  her.  )  it  made  making  friends  easy,  as  this  interaction  had  proved.  she  could  have  been  equally  abrasive,  but  instead  she  let  it  roll  off  her  back.  sure  enough,  his  initial  comment  had  nothing  to  do  with  her,  and  now  she  was  looping  her  arm  around  his  with  a  new  breakfast  companion  found.  "  oh  my  god  !  i  didn't  even  give  you  my  name,  did  i  ?  "  she  shook  her  head,  chuckling  under  her  breath.  "  that's  like,  so  rude.  i'm  sorry.  DESTINY.  it's  nice  to  meet  you,  wesley.  "  a  woman  now  on  a  mission,  she  made  her  way  to  the  door.  "  i'll  take  your  word  for  it.  and  i'm  probably  a  lot  more  fun  when  you're  not  hungover,  too.  what  did  you  even  get  up  to  ?  "  turning  her  head  over  her  shoulder,  she  studied  him  curiously.  "  you said you don't really get hungover, so there must be a story. if you want to share— no pressure. "

[xwesley]

there  are  plenty  of  things  wesley  regrets  in  his  life.  being  positive  that  pink  mascara  and  blue  eyeliner  looked  good  on  him  in  high  school,  not  listening  to  his  father  when  he  told  him  to  wear  a  sweater  in  the  middle  of  winter  because  he  wanted  to  show  off  his  outfit  and  then  missing  a  lana  del  rey  concert  because  he  was  too  sick  to  even  get  out  of  bed,  and  even  having  the  audacity  to  believe  that  caring  for  a  bunny  was  easy  work  –  all  things  that  wesley  lives  to  regret  to  this  day,  but,  there  are  two  things  in  his  life  that  wesley  regrets  more  than  anything  in  the  world.  what  happened  with  his  mother,  and  then  what  happened  with  luciana’s  parents.  if  he  could  go  back  to  that  day  where  he  had  been  crying  and  vulnerable  and  walk  away  from  her  father  before  anything  could  happen,  he  would,  but…  he  didn’t,  and  now  they’re  here.  now  his  best  friend  once  upon  a  time  is  a  complete  stranger.  she  hates  him,  and  the  worst  part  of  all  is  wesley  can’t  even  blame  her.  ❝sorry.❞  he  manages  to  not  stammer,  a  certain  awkwardness  and  stiff  aura  in  the  room,  and  even  though  he  knows  he  shouldn’t,  he  can’t  help  himself.  ❝it  was  my  fault,❞  he’s  blaming  this  on  the  drugs  in  his  system,  ❝i…❞  what?  he  what?  not  even  he  knows  where  he  was  going  with  that.  ❝i’m  sorry.❞

(     ───      ) 𝐋𝐔𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐍𝐀 + 𝐖𝐄𝐒𝐋𝐄𝐘 : 𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑛𝑡 𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑟𝑡𝑒𝑟 .

𝐰𝐡𝐨 : wesley , @xwesley . 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 : crescent  music  festival .

                 the  moment  she  saw  wesley  enter  the  same  rest  zone  ,  luciana  jumped  up  .  wanting  to  get  out  of  there  as  soon  as  possible  before  he  𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐄𝐃  her  too  .  but  she  was  too  late  ,  almost  running  into  him  in  order  to  avoid  him  .  making  her  𝐄𝐒𝐂𝐀𝐏𝐄  plan  go  even  worse  than  originally  intended  .          ❛     sorry  ,  i  should  really  watch  where  i'm  going  .     ❜         she  spoke  ,  a  bitterness  to  her  words  .  almost  as  if  they  were  something  a  lot  𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐒𝐄  than  strangers  .  which  seemed  to  be  the  way  she  acted  when  it  came  to  the  two  of  them  .  pretending  he  was  never  a  part  of  her  life  at  all  .

[xwesley]

it’s  difficult  for  the  french  male  to  sit  still.  if  anything,  it  almost  seems  impossible,  that  much  being  evident  as  he  begins  to  walk  around  his  spacious  living  room  and  aimlessly  begins to pick  up  some  bottles  and  other  things  that  were  definitely  trash,  throwing  them  in  a  plastic  bag  he  didn’t  even  realize  had  a  hole  in  it,  causing  an  unknown  substance  to  leak  out  of  it.  ❝just  don’t  mind  the  mess  you  know,  it’s  just  a  little  mess.❞  he  lets  out  the  words  with  a  laugh  following,  kicking  an  empty  bag  of  chips  underneath  the  couch,  as  if  that  would  solve  his  whole  issue.  ❝yes!  i  did.  if  you  want  some  too,  don’t  be  shy.  you  can  have  as  much  as  you  want.❞  wesley  offers  as  if  she  would  even  be  interested  in  such  a  thing,  continuing  to  pace  around  the  room  and  pick  up  random  stuff  like  a  damn  maniac.  ❝i’m  fixing  it.  i’m  fixing  it  right  now.  i  mean,  some  of  it.  the  rest  the  maid  can  fix  tomorrow.  do  you  want  something  to  drink?  maybe  something  to  eat?  i  can  make  a  mean  passion  fruit  martini,  oh,  oh,  there’s  also  some  sushi  i  just  got  a  few  hours  ago  but  didn’t  finish.  or  if  you  don’t  want  that  i  can  order  something  cause  i  don’t  have  food  currently,❞  he  barely  even  pauses  to  take  a  breath,  ❝unless  you’re  interested  in  ketchup  and  hot  sauce.  maybe  that’s  you’re  type  of  thing.❞  he  smiles  widely,  not  even  realizing  he’s  rambling  as  he  begins  to  shake  his  head  in  what  seems  to  be  an  anxious  manner.  ❝my  face.  my  face…❞  the  first  thing  he  does  is  reach  under  his  nose  to  see  if  perhaps  he  was  bleeding,  not  even  aware  of  the  fact  that  she  was  talking  about  the  nasty  bruise  on  his  swollen  cheek.  ❝oh,  oh!  you  mean  the  bruise.  that’s  okay,  i  totally  deserved  that.  in  fact,  i’m  surprised  he  didn’t  hit  me  more  than  once,  you  know?  i  deserved  it.  that  was  my  fault.  i  meant  to  ask  you  something…  do  you  wanna  watch  the  barbie  movie  with  me?❞

her  gaze  travels  ,  warm  brown  tracing  the  carnage  that  fills  her  friends  home  ,  an  uncomfortable  feeling  forming  in  the  pit  of  her  stomach  .  it  felt  rotten  .  she  had  known  him  for  almost  as  long  as  she  could  remember  (  at  least  while  she  was  old  enough  to  understand  deeper  connections  )  but  she  hadn't  seen  to  the  extent  of  the  chaos  that  ensued  ,  somehow  seeming  so  often  to  be  blind  to  faults  or  flaws  ,  red  flags  for  something  somewhere  going  wrong  .  the  kiss  to  her  hair  is  soft  and  allows ��her  enough  space  to  gently  grab  a  hold  of  his  elbow  as  she  follows  on  from  the  words  spoken  from  his  lips  .  "  wesley  …  have  you  taken  something  ?  "  she's  asking  ,  voice  touched  with  the  worry  that  comes  from  her  inability  to  disconnect  from  her  love  for  him  ,  a  bleeding  heart  who  wanted  to  pick  him  up  and  keep  him  safe  .  she's  catching  his  gaze  ,  blocking  out  everything  going  on  around  them  ,  guiding  ,  "  i  don't  think  that  dance  ,  dance  revolution  is  going  to  help  us  out  with  this  one  ,  baby  boy  .  we  need  to  fix  some  of  this  ,  "  not  that  a  maid  couldn't  ,  not  that  alara  wasn't  capable  of  some  type  of  cleaning  but  she  meant  more  than  that  …  "  sit  down  with  me  and  tell  me  what's  going  on  ,  "  at  times  she  might  have  been  willing  to  clamber  to  the  level  of  hyperactivity  ,  energetically  bouncing  from  one  side  to  another  but  her  fingers  move  to  gently  brush  against  his  face  .  her  eyebrows  twinge  together  ,  orbs  filled  with  heartbreak  as  she  sees  the  forming  bruise  and  wants  to  know  the  source  ,  to  figure  out  what  was  going  on  ,  "  your  face  …  "

[xwesley]

their  typical  conversations  were  stupid  enough  up  to  the  point  where  wesley  is  sure  that  if  an  outsider  were  to  hear  the  pointless  shit  they  talk  about,  they  would  lose  brain  cells.  wesley  is  sure  that  even  he  loses  brain  cells  after  every  interaction  or  hangout  session  he  has  with  tristan,  but  he  doesn’t  have  many  brain  cells  to  begin  with,  so  it  was  all  part  of  the  charm.  he  doesn’t  think  he  knows  another  person  who  would  so  willingly  go  along  with  his  poorly  thought  out  ideas  or  psychotic  behavior  –  tristan  was  really  the  realest  for  that.  or  maybe  he  was  just  really  fucking  stupid  or  both,  but  either  way,  wesley  is  beyond  ecstatic  to  be  going  on  this  ridiculous  adventure  that  could  easily  get  them  into  a  lot  of  trouble,  or  worse,  injured.  the  alcohol  and  narcotics  they  had  taken  earlier  aren’t  making  him  think  of  the  consequences  though  (  not  that  he  ever  does  ),  the  only  thing  he  can  think  about  is  how  he’s  going  to  spray  paint  something  much  better  than  whatever  tristan  would  spray  paint  despite  not  having  an  artistic  bone  in  his  body.  at  least,  not  when  it  came  to  drawing.

instead  of  giving  the  man  a  solid  reply,  wesley  blew  a  raspberry  in  his  direction,  as  if  they  were  in  the  first  grade,  then  proceeded  to  flick  him  off.  it  was  all  in  good  nature  though,  the  idiotic  smile  that  came  onto  his  lips  afterwards  showing  that  much.  ❝i  really  thought  you  were  going  to  spit  it  out…  quitter.❞  he  teased,  referring  to  his  clearly  sick  expression  when  swallowing  the  alcohol  reluctantly.  wesley  has  never  spit  a  day  in  his  life,  so  he  clearly  couldn’t  relate.  after  all,  spitters  are  for  quitters,  but  that  could  just  be  his  whore  like  tendencies  calling  out  to  him.  ❝that  applies  for  artists  too?  i  thought  that  was  just  musicians.❞  he  meant  magicians,  but  he  was  too  drunk  to  correct  himself  now,  too  drunk  to  care,  too  drunk  to  come  to  terms  with  the  fact  that  basically,  musicians  are  artists  as  well.  at  his  following  question,  wesley  grabs  the  ladder  while  tristan  is  climbing  and  shakes  it  viciously.  ❝nah,  i  think  it’s  just  the  right  amount  of  wobbly  –  you’ll  be  fine!❞  as  if  the  other  should  take  his  word  for  it,  but  he  does.  then  wesley  is  climbing  the  damn  thing  that  was  basically  looser  than  a  baby  tooth  minutes  away  from  falling  off,  but,  he  wasn’t  thinking  about  that,  like,  at  all.  once  they’re  both  up  there,  wesley  sets  the  bag  down,  sloppily  opening  it  to  reveal  a  bunch  of  spray  paint  cans,  ready  to  use.  ❝fuck  the  man,  and  his  son  too!❞  he  shouted  after  tristan,  never  on  to  be  able  to  help  a  gay  pun,  taking  another  swig,  before  setting  the  bottle  down.  ❝this  is  such  a  view  man…  look,  you  can  see  the  trash  bags  piled  up  one  on  top  of  another  from  here!❞  he  pointed  from  afar,  a  typical  new  york  city  site,  truly.  ❝dude,  dude,  dude…  let’s  play  some  soft  rock  music!❞  he  doesn’t  wait  for  his  friend  to  reply,  beginning  to  play  his  underrated  favorite  from  red  hot  chili  peppers,  don’t  forget  me,  through  a  mini  speaker  he  had  forgotten  he  even  packed  in  there  to  begin  with.  ❝not  aloneeeeeeeee,  i’ll  be  there,  tell  me  when  you  wanna  go!❞  he  sings  to  the  beat  of  the  iconic  anthony  kiedis,  surprisingly,  managing  to  hold  a  tune  despite  how  under  the  influence  he  was.  it  would  always  be  the  drums  for  him,  but  he  could  sing  decently,  at  least.  grabbing  a  random  spray  paint  color  with  his  left  hand,  he  removes  the  top  and  starts  spray  painting  something.  ❝let’s  promise  not  to  look  and  then  when  we’re  done…  we  show  each  other  the  masterpieces  we  have  created,  deal?❞

                        the  idea  probably  wasn't  the  best  but  tristan  thought  it  was  a  great  idea  .  something  to  pass  the  time  instead  of  sitting  around  at  either  his  place  or  wesley's  while  high  off  their  asses  .  it  wouldn't  be  𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐌  if  they  weren't  out  doing  some  𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐎𝐓𝐈𝐂  or  𝐈𝐃𝐈𝐎𝐓𝐈𝐂  thing  that  more  than  likely  made  no  real  sense  .  but  that  was  part  of  the  fun  ,          (     part  of  the  adventure  .     )         besides  ,  it  wasn't  completely  uncommon  for  tristan  to  come  up  with  an  idea  like  spray  painting  a  billboard  .  there  was  something  exhilarating  about  doing  things  that  were  against  the  rules  and  he  figured  ,  they  weren't  hurting  anyone  or  anything  ,  so  why  not  ?  it  helped  that  wesley  was  𝐀𝐋𝐖𝐀𝐘𝐒  right  there  and  rearing  to  go  when  it  came  to  any  of  the  ideas  that  tristan  had  .  both  males  having  that  effect  on  each  other  .  it  also  helped  that  they  were  always  on  something  when  they  were  around  each  other  .  how  could  anything  seem  like  a  𝐁𝐀𝐃  𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐀  when  they  were  both  out  of  their  minds  on  anything  they  could  get  their  hands  on  ?

      when  wesley  jumped  in  front  of  him  ,  tristan  came  to  a  halting  stop  before  bringing  his  hand  up  to  his  chest  .          ❛      you  came  out  of  nowhere  !     ❜        a  lie  ,  obviously  .  wesley  had  been  by  his  side  the  whole  time  they  were  walking  up  the  beautiful  field  of  flowers  but  that  was  besides  the  point  .  it  really  was  amazing  what  you  could  get  when  you  put  two  idiots  together  . . .  believe  it  or  not  . . .  two  idiots  equaled  some  of  the  most  𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐏𝐈𝐃  type  of  interactions  known  to  man  .         (     who  would've  thought  ?     )         but  that  was  just  part  of  the  charm  of  tristan  and  wesley's  friendship  .         ❛      shuddup  !  keep  walking  and  stop  dribbling  all  over  yourself  !  you  fucking  animal  !     ❜         tristan  responded  to  wesley's  claim  that  he  was  stopping  when  they  had  a  mission  at  hand  .  tristan's  mind  too  occupied  ,  just  as  wesley's  was  with  everything  in  their  systems  and  the  excitement  of  whatever  task  they  had  at  hand  to  really  put  together  why  he  had  stopped  in  the  first  place  .  reaching  over  ,  tristan  slapped  wesley  against  the  arm  before  grabbing  the  bottle  of  alcohol  from  him  and  taking  a  long  swig  .  chocking  a  bit  ,  he  pulled  the  bottle  away  .  almost  spitting  it  up  before  swallowing  it  back  down  . . .  he  was  a  man  of  culture  . . .  and  you  couldn't  go  and  waste  𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐅𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐋𝐘  𝐆𝐎𝐎𝐃  liquor  .  as  they  continued  to  walk  ,  nearing  closer  to  the  billboard  .  tristan  held  onto  the  bottle  as  he  looked  at  wesley  .  an  amused  look  ,  almost  even  𝐄𝐗𝐂𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐃  about  the  ideas  wesley  had  . . .  when  really  . . .  emojis  probably  weren't  the  most  inventive  thing  in  the  world  but  in  that  moment  ,  tristan  felt  as  though  wesley  was  an  artistic  genius  .            ❛     part  of  the  fun  is  the  𝐌𝐘𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐘  ,  wesley  .  you  have  to  wait  to  see  what  i  create  .  an  artist  never  tells  .     ❜         unsure  if  that  was  even  the  truth  .  they  reached  the  ladder  of  the  billboard  and  tristan  began  to  climb  up  .  looking  down  at  welsey  ,          ❛      is  this  thing  swaying  back  and  forth  or  is  that  just  me  ?     ❜          to  be  fair  ,  the  billboard  he  had  chosen  wasn't  the  best  or  most  stable  thing  in  the  world  .  looking  like  it  was  made  more  than  seventy  years  ago  .  shrugging  ,  he  continued  to  climb  up  .  reaching  the  top  ,  he  put  his  arms  out  .          ❛      wooooo  !  fuck  the  man  !     ❜          tristan  yelled  out  for  no  apparent  reason  .  just  because  . . .  who  didn't  want  to  yell  out  to  fuck  the  man  while  on  a  billboard  that  although  chipped  away  ,  was  some  kind  of  ad  about  finding  christ  or  whatever  the  hell  it  was  .

[xwesley]

evidently,  wesley  had  no  clue  who  this  man  before  him  was.  for  one,  he  was  out  of  it,  but  on  the  other  hand,  he  obviously  has  no  interest  to  volunteer  at  that  hospital.  he  just  wants  to  get  his  mandatory  community  hours  out  of  the  way.  he  can’t  even  recall  ever  seeing  this  man  before,  let  alone  sitting  at  a  table,  eating  together  with  him  and  other  people.  ❝oh!  i  didn’t  recognize  you  at  all.❞  he  spoke,  honest  as  ever,  smiling  drunkenly  at  the  other.  ❝i  don’t  know  him  all  that  much,❞  a  pause,  as  he  grabs  another  tiny  water  bottle  and  downs  it  in  one  go,  nearly  falling  over  as  he  throws  it  into  the  garbage  can,  and  misses  yet  again.  ❝i  don’t  think  he  wants  me  to  know  him,  though.  i  don’t  know  whyyyyyy,  i  mean,  i’m  hot,  i’m  french,  sometimes  i’m  silly  and  i  think  that  cancels  out  all  my  red  flags,❞  he  hiccups  again,  as  if  what  he’s  saying  makes  any  sense  at  all,  ❝i  think  he’s  just  blind.  there’s  obviously  something  really  wrong  with  him,  don’t  you  think?  he’s  really  pretty  though,  and  he  always  smells  really  good,  also,  his  eyes  are  nice,  and  he’s  like,  the  smartest  person  i’ve  ever  met,  but  that’s  about  it.  he’s  so  irritating.  in  fact,  he’s  the  most  obnoxious  person  i’ve  ever  come  across.  he  just  thinks  he’s  so  much  better  than  me,  you  know?  all  because  he  can  read  books  with  no  pictures  in  them  and  because  sometimes,  his  vocabulary  is  extensive.  what  a  superiority  complex.  i  hate  everything  about  him.  he’s  so  stupid…❞  he  proceeds  to  talk  about  him  for  at  least  a  solid  thirty  minutes  before  he  thinks  he’s  done,  a  sigh  leaving  his  lips.  ❝you  don’t  talk  much,  do  you  ej?  i’m  leaving.  i  need  to  go  throw  up  somewhere.❞ talking about his feelings does that to him.

       the chuckle that came out of his mouth was, A W K W A R D . he wasn't expecting the other to completely dismiss him, like they didn't eat together before. but even ej could see that wesley was very disinterested in being at the hospital, which was the total opposite of jupiter. he shook his head, realizing that wesley was very under the influence. " umm–– sure, " he said. ej followed the other. " i'm ej, i work at the hospital you are volunteering at. and he hasn't said anything, but you two are always together, so i'm assuming you two know each other very well. "

[wesleyss]

          he  nearly  rolled  his  eyes  in  return  –  nearly.  that  was  until  he  heard  that  the  other  had  party  favors  he  was  willing  to  share.  suddenly,  wesley  was  interested.  he  looked  like  a  smug,  toxic  piece  of  shit,  truth  be  told,  but  it’s  not  like  wesley  hasn’t  dealt  with  plenty  of  those  in  the  past.  it  was  almost  like  he  attracted  men  like  this  but…  he  has  some  shit  going  on  too,  so  he  couldn’t  exactly  judge  him  too  hard.  ❝do  you?❞  he  leans  in  closer,  green  eyes  practically  twinkling  with  mischief  underneath  the  neon  lights.  ❝don’t  be  rude,  show  me.❞

"right," mattia couldn't help but roll his eyes in response. he could've called the other out on his obvious bullshit, but that would require a level of care that he didn't possess. he simply didn't care for listening to people talk. "i don't know about any secrets but i am always willing to share my party favors," a statement which wasn't even remotely true but did suit his purposes. wesley was an incredibly pretty face but the more he talked, the more interest mattia lost.

[xwesley]

the grin that settled onto her lips at his obvious agony ( how dramatic he is, but what else is new ) resembled the grinch in wesley's opinion. if this was happening to someone else, he would most likely share her reaction, but the fact that it's happening to him makes the situation nearly unbearable. he just needs to man up and get over it, but it's easier said than done. ❝therapy? nah, i stopped attending that shit ages ago. always with that 'well, have you looked at it this way?' bullshit, like yes bitch... i have.❞ with this reply, his personality, and nearly all his life choices, perhaps you would be able to conclude that wesley might benefit from going back to therapy, but would he ever admit this to himself? probably not. did he ever have plans on returning? fuck no. he's just going to continue living his chaotic life, and look cute while he's doing it. he smirks when she mentions her therapist might be obsessed with her, as this is literally something he had told his father when he used to attend therapy forever ago, which definitely says a lot about the both of them. ❝no, i'm implying it. those words came out of your mouth, not mine.❞ he teases, before he begins shaking his head. ❝you wouldn't fucking dare.❞ yet, something in his heart tells him she would most certainly be capable of banging pots and pans around just for the fuck of it. ❝well, what about pancakes, water, and some aspirin and i'll help you clean up the place when i feel like i'm no longer dying? i think that's a hot deal... please?❞ her home was trashed, signs that the party had been amazing, but also meaning that it was in desperate need of tidying up. he knew he would probably get in the mood to help her after some food, water, a pill, and possibly a line, but that was ultimately up to her.

The sight of his wince brought an abnormal grin to her face that lit up her features as though she were being kissed by the sun. It was beyond tempting to continue yelling, but before DJ had the opportunity to, he beat her to speaking. "I think it's called trauma. Makes it hard to make friends apparently, so I tend to pick up a bottle or turn to amphetamines. That's what the shrink says, anyway." Her shrug beyond casual, her voice like a warped record for repeating the same words over and over; they might as well be burned into the back of her skull. "Honestly think he's like obsessed with me or something, so I don't buy half the shit he tells me. I swear I only go for the attention, at this point." She fiddled with the heart pendant that was strung around her neck by a dainty gold chain, not aware of her blatant narcissism. At the mention of her mascara, she gasped before her hands moved to her hips. "Are you calling me a trash goblin, Wes?" The blonde's brows raising in a way that said he was treading into dangerous waters. "That's low, coming from someone who crashed on my couch and- you know what? I feel like starting a pots-and-pans band suddenly." Her smile mischievous, followed by the teasing glint in her eyes. "True that." The young woman's head nodded in a way to mimic raising a glass to his words - she honestly couldn't remember much of the night before, either. Her snort was followed by laughed, her hand flying up to her mouth as an attempt to muffle the loud noise, but she laughed louder upon his direction to not do so. Her eyes rolled, "You have an issue with flamingo pink, now? If anything it should be helping you get out of your crabby mood. And to think I was going to throw you a life preserver of pancakes and water...." She jestfully humpfed over his lack of 'please' and 'thank you'.

[wesleyss]

          wesley  was  hanging  around  backstage,  jamming  out  to  the  concert,  adrenaline  rushing  through  him  (  probably  from  the  drugs  he  took  earlier,  but  that  was  besides  the  point  ).  places  like  these  always  pumped  him  up,  made  him  feel  like  everything  had  a  purpose.  the  people,  the  sound,  the  way  scout  effortlessly  played  –  he  was  so,  so  happy  for  her.  while  he’s  happy  posting  drum  covers  on  youtube,  he  loves  watching  people  live  out  their  dream.  the  moment  the  show  is  over  and  she’s  in  her  dressing  room,  wesley  creeps  up  behind  her.  an  unfiltered  laugh  leaves  his  lips  at  her  question,  shaking  his  head.  ❝did  i  scare  you?❞  however,  he  doesn’t  wait  for  her  to  answer  as  he  impulsively  manages  to  close  her  zipper,  shooting  her  a  smile.  ❝fixed  it.❞  he  said,  with  a  casual  shrug,  before  jumping  up  and  down  like  an  excited  school  boy,  ever  the  hyperactive  fuck,  ever  the  adhd  king.  ❝that  was  awesome!  you  were  like,❞  he  pretends  to  bang  on  drums  with  his  hands  on  thin  air,  ridiculous  as  always,  ❝and  then  everyone  was  screaming,  myself  included,  and  your  band  was  great!❞  okay  wesley,  calm  the  fuck  down.

a bead of sweat from her freshly bleached blonde hair ran down the back of logan's neck, the post - show adrenaline still coursing through her body, minutes after she stepped off the stage. she couldn't, and didn't want to, wipe the smile off her face at the fact that she'd just played for a sold - out arena. she'd done it before of course, but she could never shake the feeling of pure joy it gave her. said joy didn't waver, until the zipper on her cymbal bag snagged on seemingly nothing ... repeatedly. after the fourth try, logan's nosed scrunched frustratedly, baring her teeth slightly, she tugged on the zipper before noticing a presence behind her. jumping at the sudden encounter, she turned on her heels and neutralized her expression, playing it cool. " sh - hi ! hey ! how're you ? " her british accent mused, a small smile playing on her lips.

[xwesley]

his  heart  was  thumping  so  damn  loudly,  but  he  was  blaming  it  on  the  drugs  and  alcohol.  not  over  being  in  jupiter’s  presence  –  definitely  not.  wesley  swears  he  doesn’t  like  him,  he  just  wants  sex.  that’s  definitely  what  it  is.  ❝this  is  only  like…❞  he  pauses,  slurring,  ❝the  first  time  i  remind  you  today.❞  was  it?  it  could  have  been  the  second  time.  he  loses  count  sometimes.  ❝drake!  i’m  trying  to  find  drake!❞  blurred  vision  scans  the  area,  before  his  eyes  land  on  the  guy  he  saw  a  while  back  who  he  is  convinced  is  drake,  when  really,  it’s  just  some  random  guy  with  a  red  shirt  on.  ❝look,  look,  that’s  him  over  there!❞  he  nudges  jupiter,  not  so  discreetly  pointing  at  the  poor  guy  who  was  just  trying  to  have  a  good  time  with  his  friends.  ❝come  on,  come  with  me  to  take  a  picture!❞

      jupiter smiled. ever since they've been working at the hospital together, wesley didn't seem so–– annoying to jupiter. maybe because finally there was an understanding between the both of them. even though, he was still the same F L I R T he was, at least at the hospital, things were a little more serious. at least he hoped it would continue to be that way. he rolled his eyes playfully after hearing wesley call him pretty. " i know–– you constantly keep reminding me, " he teased. " you did ?? must have been nice. and who are you trying to find ?? "

[xwesley]

maybe  another  person  would  be  embarrassed  to  go  out  in  public  under  these  conditions,  but  definitely  not  wesley.  this  isn’t  an  attempt  to get  attention  (  though  he  loves  attention  of  any  kind  ),  it’s  more  of  the  fact  that  he  doesn’t  want  to  go  home  yet,  doesn’t  want  to  be  alone  with  his  thoughts,  so  despite  feeling  like  garbage,  here  he  is.  ❝ants  sneeze?  you  learn  something  new  everyday.❞  of  course  they  don’t  sneeze,  but  he  isn’t  smart  enough  to  decipher  that,  nor  does  he  care  enough  to  google  the  facts  just  to  be  somewhat  of  an  intellectual.  he  stares  at  the  bag  handed  to  him,  raising  a  neat  brow.  ❝this  kind  of  looks  like  an  iv.  i’m  not  huge  on  needles,  so  if  i  can  drink  this,  that  would  be  preferred.❞  he’s  not  even  joking  either,  but  a  part  of  him  is  wondering  why  they  carry  this  around  with  them.

—CONFUSION MAKES ITSELF VISIBLE on her features as she nods in an attempt to convince the other that she did, in fact, just sneeze. yuzuha has never been one to assume the worse in other people, but once the sunglasses came off, the musician was finally able to get some clarity on the other's.. condition. wesley wasn’t in need of a visit to the hospital, he was just hungover. a cackle leaves their lips as they reach into their bag, rummaging through, before finding what they were looking for. “i will achoo like an ant. a molecule? here, take this. it’ll help with the.. yeah.” they slide the thin white packet of liquid iv to the other, something that yuzu themself would take on occasion after drinking with her bandmates.  

[xwesley]

he chuckles when the other mentions he would be an awful nurse. wesley doesn't think just anyone can be a nurse, it definitely takes a certain type of person. ❝same! i'd see the most minimal injury and lose it. god, and getting blood samples? bless their souls.❞ he wasn't uneasy when it came to blood ( past traumas ), but seeing a large amount of it made him feel a certain type of way. tolerable with it for sure, but not exactly thrilled. he raised a neat brow, not surprised that he had a trainer, but finding it strange that he actually bothers to listen to him. he's a professional athlete, isn't he? as long as he's not showing up out of it to practice and does his part, does it really matter what he does? then again, wesley was just a gym guy. sports like that weren't his forte. ❝you listen to your trainer? that's sweet.❞ if it was him, he's sure he'd drive that guy mad, but thankfully, he makes his living a completely different way. ❝well, i trick myself into thinking it'll be one, but it's never just one. smart guy you are, i'm sure you definitely save yourself from some regrettable choices.❞ unfortunately, the same couldn't be said for him.

At his words, Jalen gives a little laugh. He couldn't imagine himself in any career other than football (which is why he made some of the decisions he did, no matter how regrettable those decisions were - when all he had was football, he couldn't imagine losing it). "I'd make a pretty fucking awful nurse," he admits with a shake of his head. His sister is a doctor, and Jalen can remember all of the stress she faced getting through medical school. He would've never survived even Biology 1001 at college. Jalen listens to the story he has to tell, ears immediately picking up at the pointed he and him that Wesley mentioned. How fucking nice that must be, he thinks, to be someone who can sleep with whomever they want, with no worries of a loss of career. "It's just one drink if that's all your trainer says you can have," Jalen replies, before laughing. He never went out unless he was prepared to have several drinks, and, even then, he made sure to have a glass of water between every alcoholic drink he had. Jalen also wasn't the sort to get blackout drunk - one never knows what one's going to reveal when they're that drunk, and Jalen has secrets he needs to keep. "I just don't go out if I'm telling myself I'll be able to stick with just one drink."