my [heart] stumbles | elegant

[Deleted]

/*\ Just a puppet on a lonely string /*\

I used to rule the world
Seas would rise when I gave the word
Now in the morning I sleep alone
Sweep the streets I used to own

There was something about the music store that made Riley feel more at ease than he did anywhere else.

Then again, maybe the feeling was brought on by the sight of an absolutely sexy guitar sitting tantalizingly in front of him, all artisan woods and carefully-crafted lines and an astronomical price tag to match. Still, that didn't dissuade the lanky eighteen-year-old from abandoning his intended purpose for entering the shop, a mission to buy Keela some new sheet music for her birthday, in favor of gravitating over to the immaculately-crafted instrument sitting on its display like a queen on her throne. Riley Lightwood prided himself on his calm composure and maturity, at least on the outside, but when guitars were thrown into the mix he'd be the first to admit that he'd immediately start acting like a six-year-old in a candy store.

"Hello, beautiful," he mumbled (yes, he was talking to the guitar. No one ever accused him of being altogether sane), gently removing the instrument from the display with the delicacy one might use when holding a holy relic. The people at the music store knew him so well by now that he didn't even have to ask to play any of the display instruments, so no one stopped him when he found a nearby chair to sit on and began to tentatively strum the guitar, quiet chords gradually growing in volume and complexity as he got a feel for the strings and fretboard. The song was a new one, one of his own compositions, something mournful and heartbreaking but still retaining an airy, beautiful quality to it. Riley's lips pursed in concentration as his fingers moved with practiced precision over the strings, brows knitting together in speculation as he evaluated the guitar's tone and pitch quality - both superb.

The song had words, eloquent lyrics about loss and guilt and feeling like a prisoner in your own head that were written in impeccable penmanship within the pages of a notebook in Riley's room, but he didn't vocalize them at this particular moment, not here, not in public. He was only comfortable singing around one person, and that was only because he knew that Bridgit wouldn't judge him on the fact that his voice was nowhere near up to par with his guitar skills. Bridgit… Riley couldn't have fought the grin that crept onto his face at the thought of the pretty blonde with the sunshine smile if he'd tried. He wasn't quite sure how this whole dating thing worked (he'd always gravitated more toward guitars than pretty girls and Bridge was the only exception) or if they were really even officially an item - he got her flowers and they held hands and maybe kinda kissed, right? Didn't that mean they were dating? - but he was happy, which was a feeling he hadn't experienced in a long time.

Happiness is fleeting, though. I'm living proof of that.

And he was. Even though Riley was considerably more content that he could remember being in… well, ever, even Bridgit couldn't completely erase the scars that had carved their way into his mind and elsewhere after years of abuse and guilt and responsibility that no young person should have. While the bright scarlet lines that crisscrossed his lanky limbs were admittedly fewer and farther between than they used to be, they still had a nasty habit of appearing when he was stressed or worried, not to mention the still-present roughness of his hands brought on by four years of relentless scrubbing.

It'll never stop. I should just come to terms with it.

Riley finished the song and sat the guitar back on its display with a heavy sigh, standing up and stretching out his spindly six-foot-two frame before sliding wide, chocolate-colored eyes over to the portion of the store that sold sheet music. Gnawing on his bottom lip indecisively, he glanced back at the guitar, at the astronomical price tag… I wasn't like he couldn't afford it, and it was so nice…

No. If he bought it now, he wouldn't have any money for Keela's birthday present, and that was, after all, what he'd come here for. Ripping is gaze away from the instrument, Riley forced himself to walk over to the music section, faced with a whole new challenge: finding something Keela would actually enjoy. Riley was a skilled enough musician, but his talent didn't lie in any instrument that used sheet music. He could have picked wonderful selections if they had been in guitar tablature, but faced with the intimidating wall of treble cleffs and complicated notes and slurs and accidentals, he might as well have been reading Greek.

A smaller girl (very small, even compared to someone who wasn't as tall as Riley) was shuffling through piano books nearby, her head of long, dark hair bent studiously over the music. Maybe, Riley reasoned, she would be more suited to picking piano music than he was.

"Um, hi, excuse me?" he asked in his usual quiet baritenor, shuffling with the ungainly, awkward gait given to him by his long legs over to the girl, smiling softly and hooking his thumbs into the pockets of his jeans. "I'm trying to get some sheet music for my sister for her birthday, and I'm, uh, I'm not really sure what to do. I play guitar, so I don't really know much about piano music. She's really good, so I don't think anything would be too hard for her, but I was wondering if you might have any idea for something that might work, or -"

Riley trailed off, finally getting a good look at the girl's features - wide, dark eyes, strong jawline, a pretty mouth… she looked familiar in a way that caught him off guard, causing him to run a hand through his disheveled brown curls and blink a few times. "Woah, has anyone ever told you that you really look like that movie actress, Fenn Something? Keller? Kraton? Klardie! Fenn Klardie. You really look like her, you could be her twin or something."

Blink. Blink. Widened eyes. Dropped jaw. "Oh my God, you are Fenn Klardie."

Riley felt the color rise to his face alarmingly fast, embarrassment clashing with shock and flooding his cheeks with a brilliant scarlet hue. Seriously, what were the odds that he would run into a movie star at a music store? Laughing nervously, Riley jammed his hands back into his pockets, eyes fixed intently on the floor. "Wow, this is gonna sound so lame, but could you maybe sign my sister's music when I get it? She's seen all of your movies and she's a huge fan and everything, and she'd freak out if I got her an autograph. It's cool if you don't want to, though, I mean, I understand, it's gotta get tiring having people objectify you all the time and just see you as a celebrity and not a person, but..."

He forcibly stemmed the tidal wave of word vomit, clearing his throat briefly before forcing himself to take a deep breath, make eye contact, and start over, trying to remember the pep talks Bridgit was in the habit of giving him when his crippling shyness made things difficult.Just pretend you're talking to me. People aren't as scary as you think they are.

But they are. I've seen people be scarier than you can imagine.

Breathe. Blink. Smile. "Okay, let's start over. Hi, I'm Riley. Riley Lightwood. Want to help me pick out some music?"

[/justify][/size]
One minute I held the key
Next the walls were closed on me
And I discovered that my castles stand
Upon pillars of salt and pillars of sand

[✌ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ]

S P E A K I N G // T H I N K I N G

Boredom, the completely normal, yet incredibly dull killer.

Fenn sighed, staring at her flat stomach as she lay, more than sat on her black leather couch. It was one of those flat ones with the short backs that were just wide enough for a bed. A bed for one, or a bed for too skinny people. Yup, before you ask, Fenn has tested it out before on numerous occasions. She usually takes the fatties to the old and dusty guest room. she started flicking at her cat's ear, making him turn his little black head in annoyance. She had already played the piano for two hours, then she had eaten a bagel, and after that she had even tried her hand at sewing and gave up after the first ten stitches. fenn wasn't made for patience. It was weird because normally she could go on playing for hours and hours, but today she was just downright bored of the music.

Suddenly, she jumped up, making the cat go flying with a loud and disgruntled 'meow.' She sang out a quick sorry as she pulled her leather jacket on over her jean shorts and butterfly top. The top was a blue one that fell just low enough to show off nothing. Being an A-cup didn't tend to give you cleavage, and Fenn was used to it by now. She used her other charms to get what she wanted, such as her amazing flexibility, and sultry looks. A blush didn't even cross her face at the thought of what she did to get her roles in life, as by now it was just a natural thing. Why be ashamed of something you couldn't change anyway? Things were set now, and that's how they would stay. Beside's it's not like Fenn doesn't use protection. well, there was that one time, but nothing came of it. Nothing to worry about right?

Fenn grabbed her maroon helmet off the table near the door, making sure to firmly close the door so that Suspenders wouldn't follow. She knelt down beside the door, listening to his indignant mewling, and scratching at the it. After a moment, it stopped, and Fenn waited silently for a loud bang that came a second later. Sighing, she opened the door, just as the cat was running back towards it, making him barrel into her shins this time. She lifted him as he stepped back and shook his head in confusion. Firmly, she looked him in his little cat eyes, and said, "Look you, you're not coming, okay? The owner got mad last time when you shredded that songbook, and I had to pay for it, ka'peesh?" she placed the cat back on the ground, and stepped out the door, closing it firmly behind her once agai. she stood still, listening for a moment once again, and when she heard nothing, she smiled and started off at a fast walk down around the side of the house, and pulled the garage door open with a sharp tug that sent the whole thing flying up with a loud crash.

She walked into the murky darkness filled with an old tool bench, a vintage convertible, and a shiny motorcycle that matched her helmet in colour. She wheeled it out quickly, and then jumped up off the side of the garage door's frame to catch the door, pulling it down again, using the leverage of her fall. She muttered something about needing an automatic under her breath as she huffed out a breath, held in from the jump. Swinging a cowboy booted leg over the bike, she revved it to life, enjoying the way the engine rumbled beneath her. It wasn't even that far to the store she was heading to, but sometimes a bike had to be ridden just for the thrill of the wind in your hair. As she drove past the house of Edana Lightwood, she looked over at it, wondering about who else might live in it.

She longed to remove the helmet that kept the wind from hitting her in the face, blocking out every thought but the need to find air. But she had already been reprimanded twice, and third time really is the charm. The only way she had gotten off before was with an autograph, and some bathroom sex. Bathroom sex wasn't the most comfortable, but it would do when you had nothing else. Laughing happily into her helmet, she parked her bike in front of the music shop, making sure to take her keys with her this time. It was how she had lost her first bike. It wasn't that she was stupid, just probably low on a few brain cells. She carefully contemplated taking the helmet in with her as well, and then made a non-commitical 'meh' and plopped it down onto the seat. If someone really wanted her helmet, it would be the perfect excuse about why she wasn't wearing one. Good on them.

Quietly, she opened the door of the shop. It was pretty empty except for a boy probably around her age playing a beautiful melody on a equally beautiful guitar. All she saw was a curly mop of hair, as his head was bent over the guitar, he was so into it. She smiled slightly at the scene, knowing exactly what it felt like to be consumed with music. She would never go so far as to tell this boy after he was done that she enjoyed it, not without him talking to her first. She might be an actress, but it didn't make you good at talking to cute boys. instead she just ducked her head down and walked over to the piano section, looking for the perfect new songs to learn. She wanted something challenging, something that she had to work hard for. It almost didn't matter to her that the only one to hear it would be her cat. But of course there was that part of her, smirking away that wanted someone to notice her for more than she was.

She hadn't noticed the passing of time, and the stop of the music until there was suddenly a soft voice beside her, asking for her help with his sister or something? She didn't know what it was about her recently, but people were just begging for her help all the time it felt like. Rather than bother her however, it was a very exciting and new experience for Fenn. She listened carefully to his request, and then turned her head up to smile at him, her fingers stuck between the books, saving her place so she could continue looking. She was only slightly surprised to see guitar boy looking at her in embarrassment. She looked him up and down as he fell all over himself, trying to not appear uncool or something. The flush was more than kind of cute on his pretty face. Yup, Fenn had come across a pretty boy. But there was a sweetness to his looks, as if he hadn't realized yet, like so many other guys in her business, how pretty he was.

She tuned into what he was saying, and a smile slowly stretched across her face. In her world, if you wanted something from someone, you had to pay for it. It didn't really occur to her that you could help someone else out just because you were a kind and generous person. Fenn held back a laugh, enjoying his starstruck self. She loved fans like him, who were truly interested in her acting, not those ones that only asked for an autograph for the stories they could tell later. She didn't say that most of her movies were just to sustain her habit, and a lot of them were gained by dirty means. He seemed like a little baby deer. And it was even sweeter of him to be wanting it for his sister. He really was a big cutie, and Fenn was glad to finally come across one. The name 'Lightwood' sent a little dinging sound through fenn's head, but she couldn't quite remember who she knew that was a Lightwood at the moment, with such a cute guy in front of her.

She mulled over his request, a twinkle slowly growing in her eye as she thought it over. He was cute, a guy Fenn would want between her sheets. She turned her head to pull out two booklets she had been saving between one hand. They were some really old, vintage books, by some guy named Yiruma, and Bach, and the best part was, they both looked incredibly intricate. Fenn had been saving them for herself, but a cute guy with a sob story about his sister's birthday was worth it. She smirked up at him, he was incredibly tall, and that only added to her fascination as she held out the two books. "Alright, you already know my name, Mr. Lightwood, and it is a pleasure to learn your's." She grinned up at him, under mischievous eyes, "If you want it, along with my signature, I think you owe me something! Let's say...a drink maybe?" Her heart raced nervously, screaming at her, enjoying the joyride. She didn't know how to talk to someone you wanted to be friends with, but she hoped she was doing alright. She was using her producer voice. It was always easier with the producers because all she had to do was fuck them.

[Deleted]

/*\ I’ve forgotten what I do it for but I tread water just the same /*\

Pardon me, my mistake
Thought it was my turn for a break
But since the rain loves my face
I’ll just let it be

Fenn Klardie was prettier in person than she was on screen.

Maybe most guys his age wouldn't agree with him (he'd seen a few of her action flicks involving overdone eye makeup and some variety of tight leather jumpsuit, the titles might as well have been Hormonal Teenage Boy Magnet parts 1, 2, and 3), but he'd always been more of an advocate of natural beauty. Fenn was far more attractive without computer-generated explosions in the background and dressed in everyday clothes rather than the fairly outlandish costumes he'd seen her wear in the movies. She wasn't the radiant sort of beautiful that Bridgit was, the smack-you-around-the-head type of striking features and smiles that made him forget his own name, but she had nice eyes and a rich, decadent sort of voice, layered with this knowing, like she held all the secrets the world wanted to know and you could figure them out if you played your cards right.

Fame is supposed to make you superficial, but there's a depth to her that makes me wonder if that's really true.

Being from a wealthy family in the First District had made Riley accustomed to meeting important people, but the days of lavish galas at the Lightwood estate were long gone, dead and buried with his father, and seeing as he'd been six years old on that horrible, horrible day when the expressionless messenger had delivered news of Casper Lightwood's unfortunate demise, he honestly didn't remember too much other than being forced to wear uncomfortable suits and stand around so his parents' friends could fawn over his sisters and himself. Maybe the people at those parties had been rich and famous, but his foggy childhood memory served to tell them that the clientele had been comprised of stuffy politicians and business moguls, not movie stars. This being said, he supposed he was what could be starstruck, stumbling over words and generally being more awkward than he usually was.

With a smile that had more than a hint of nervousness to it, Riley gently took the fragile-looking vintage books from Fenn's hands and leafed through the pages speculatively, enjoying the comforting scent of old paper that reminded him of the study back at his home, shelves of antiquated volumes adding their unique aroma into the smell of the leather couches and the distant fragrance of his father's pipe smoke that still lingered there after twelve years. He was nowhere near the pianist that Keela was, but his musical skill was honed enough that he could imagine the delicate melodies in his head as amberdark eyes raked quickly over the staves and clefs, their progress underlined by a single spindly finger callused from years of close acquaintance with guitar strings tracing over the notes, analyzing the ancient songs with all the minute, nitpicky tendencies of the composer that Riley was.

"These are nice," he mumbled softly, momentarily absorbed in the silent symphony playing itself out in his head. "Good chord progressions, interesting rhythmically, gorgeous melodic lines. These guys were geniuses; I wish I could write like this. Keela's gonna flip when she sees these."

"If you want it, along with my signature, I think you owe me something! Let's say...a drink maybe?" Fenn piped up from somewhere beneath his line of his vision (she was so tiny, how had he not noticed before? He had at least a foot on her), prompting the color to immediately drain from his face. Even though he was legally an adult, Riley had never so much as thought about touching anything with alcohol in it, and there was a definite reason behind his decision.

The impact of the blow sent him sprawling unceremoniously to the floor, lanky, prepubescent twelve-year-old limbs no match for the raw power behind the fist that came down so often nowadays that what he knew to be vicious, sadistic abuse almost felt commonplace. It took a second of numbness before the pain finally bloomed red-hot across Riley's jawbone, the sickly, coppery tang of blood from a split lip pouring over his tongue and making him gag at the taste. And he tried, he really did, he tried to maintain his composure and dignity since it was really the only thing he had left, but he couldn't stop a low groan of pain from humming at the back of his throat, only to have it quickly cut off my a thick set of fingers spiderwebbing their way into his mussed hair and yanking him mercilessly back to his feet before wrapping their way tightly around the thin column of his neck and slamming him against the wall of the study so hard that his very bones rattled, the agony of the impact shooting razor-sharp across the back of his skull and sinking into his head in a way that indicated he'd have a headache for hours afterward.

"Th' hell made you think you could sass me like that, boy?" a slurred, gravelly voice punctured the haze of misery throbbing in every nook and cranny of Riley's body, accented by a backhanded smack across his already-bruised cheek that was so hard he saw stars dance in front of his vision. "Well? Answer me!"

"Keela's a little girl, she didn't know any better!" Riley exclaimed as best he could through a swollen mouth and restricted windpipe, no more concerned about his own well-being than he had been when he'd interrupted Xavier's screaming at his tearful, terrified nine-year-old sister a few minutes previously. He was already getting pummeled, and his stepfather, after all, had wanted an answer. Might as well make it truthful and retain a scrap of his nearly-demolished pride. "It was an accident! You shouldn't have been yelling at her for something she couldn't help!"

"Y'were s'posed to be watching her, you scrawny little punk. Y'were s'posed to be watching all of 'em, not fooling around with that damned guitar a'yours," The hot breath that was exhaled into his face positively reeked of whiskey, but Riley couldn't say he was surprised by that fact. The blows had been harder, the words more hurtful than usual, and it was always, always worse when he was drunk. "The little brat shredded paperwork that was supposed to go t'work with me tomorrow while you were supposed to have an eye on 'er. I think someone owes me an apology."

Riley remained silent, dark eyes hardening into a defiant glare until the grip around his throat tightened enough to completely cut off his air supply, leaving him prying weakly against the stronger pair of hands that held him against the wall. "S-sorry… I c-can't br-… please."

"Is it going to happen again, Riley?" Xavier Lightwood's voice held something very close to glee at the sight of the spindly-limbed boy's agony, sadistic satisfaction sparking behind the alcohol-induced glaze that masked the flinty dark of his eyes. Riley couldn't even begin to make a sound at this point, fighting a losing battle against unconsciousness and the fringes of gray that were beginning to encroach on his blurry vision. It was only through Herculean effort that he managed a single shake of his head, after which the pressure on his trachea was released and he collapsed to the floor again, lungs heaving in ragged wheezes, desperate for air. Another unexpected stab of pain shot through his barely-there perception of the waking world in the form of a sharp kick to the ribs, followed by the sound of heavy footsteps thudding across the room. "If it does, this'll look like play time. Y'best remember that, boy."

The door slammed, and Riley finally succumbed to the darkness that swiftly overtook him.

"Um..." he said uncertainly, finally noticing how tightly he was gripping the edges of the songbook as he stared at Fenn with something akin to horror. There were really no excuses he could make besides the truth, and my stepfatheruncle was an abusive alcoholic and the idea that drinking might make me end up like him scares the hell out of me wasn't the best thing to say to a well-known movie star he'd just met in the aisle of a music store. His only other option was to play the naive, innocent nice guy, which really didn't take too much acting.

Smile. Nod. "Okay! That sounds fun. I know a great smoothie place down the road."

[/justify][/size]
Thought this life would lead
Far from Beauty’s Beast
Well, I know at least you can’t count me out
Because I’m used to the water now

[✌ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ]

S P E A K I N G // T H I N K I N G

Fenn knew that she could chew this boy up and spit him out, herself none the worse for wear.

And that's all that ever really mattered to her. For so long now, it was herself that mattered to her, and as long as people stayed emotionally away, she was always fine. People always believed that she was involved with crazy romantic guys all the time, just because they assumed that she always got the the guy. They only ever saw the end of the shoot, kissing in the sunset, laying in bed together, etcetera, etcetera, etcetera. They didn't see the way that they would pull apart once the shoot finished, and walk away as if they never knew each other, as if it was impossible to recognize their greatest love without lights and cameras shining at them. Of course she hadn't realized so the first time, she was certain that she had been in love, and had been loved. Her mouth twisted into an ironic grin, as if laughing at herself was the only way to deal with flooding memories. Riley wouldn't notice the way her mouth twisted, so engrossed was he in the books.

She ran through the undergrowth of the wild forests, her clothes catching on every free branch, as if they reached out for her, scratching her skin with their sharp needles on purpose. A squeal of pain and fear left her lips as she ran out of the underbrush, tripping as her foot caught on a root, just at the opportune moment to let an arrow go flying right through where her head would have been. She let out a whimper of fear and confusion as her left hand clenched tightly to a short sword. Her eyes were wild with the smell of her own fear in the air, knowing that this was her last stand. She stood firmly, as she prepared herself to run, cursing her tiny sixteen year old body. Pain whittled itself deeply into her body as an arrow hit her in the side, sticking itself firmly into her hip. Instantly, she slapped a hand to her hip, trying to stay standing as the first tears of shock formed in her eyes.

She let out a gasp of recognition as the blue eyed blonde came running out of the forest, at the sight of her, he stopped in his tracks, a pained look coming to his eyes. "Hey," he said softly, reaching towards her hungrily as if she would be able to satisfy himself for anything. She took a step back uncertainly, raising the sword higher, expecting some sort of trick, instantly hating the flash of hurt in his eyes as he drew his hand back, knowing that she had caused it. It had been so long since she had seen his face, that tanned, muscular body that she almost cried out from the want to feel his arms around her again. What emerged instead was a soft whimper. Suddenly, everything was heavy, and tiredness raked itself over her ragged body. She fell to her knees with a thud as the arrow began to really let it's presence known.

A look of horror crossed the boy's face as he saw what he had done, yelling out something that sounded like her name, he was suddenly above her as she fought unconsciousness. tears started to pour freely from her eyes as she studied a face that would never be her's, and she reached up, touching his lips, about to speak, when,

"CUT!"

Suddenly, her world was filled with artists in the trade of make-up, costume, and special effects surrounding her, pulling her to her feet, and chattering in her ear. She had no words to say to them however, as the director yelled something about a break, and the fake blood was taped up to stop the leaking. She looked over to where Kolan Moon was walking away, a rush of blood to her cheeks turned them a scarlet colour as she thought of how she had touched those lips, and she wanted a taste for more. She hurried after him, brushing aside the Capitol artists impatiently, they all sounded like squawking birds to her, all so interested in saying something that they never took turns. Sometimes she would just stand there and smile and nod, but not today. Today she was going to be a teenage girl and let herself feel something for once in a very long time.

She followed Kolon around a corner, and was not quite expecting it when she was pushed against the wall, a wet mouth on her own. She shut her eyes instinctively, but pulled them open to see Kolon staring back at her, a slight smile on his perfect lips. It wasn't long before they were in his trailer, and he was whispering things in her ear, while feeling her up. It wasn't long before they started spending every break holding hands, and not long until they were in all the magazines, seen eating together, doing everything together. They never talked, just sat together, and mostly kissed, but Fenn didn't know that wasn't what couples did. That was all they did in her movies at that point at least. So when she caught him that first time with that stagehand, feeling him up, she didn't know what to do. So she stayed with him, letting him make love to her, do whatever he wanted, as long as he wouldn't leave her alone, she didn't want to be alone again.

It was like someone had slid her underneath the whole of District one, and expected her to hold it up. She had just finally crawled out, and had tasted the freedom of having a presence around always, and she didn't know if she was strong enough to try again. The love she expected and the love she felt were so sweet and far away from her at once that seeing the difference became impossible. She had fallen in love through a character, nothing more. So when the movie ended, and they finished shooting, and Kolon stopped returning her calls, she let herself be shoved back underneath, gasping for air and strength as she set out on her own again, forgetting the feeling of love, and how it tasted and sounded.

After that, she began to laugh at even the word love, finding it ridiculously funny when she was interviewed about her latest romance movie. It was strange how no no ever noticed the way she could masterfully deflect questions pertaining to her feelings. She couldn't help almost rolling about with laughter at home when she watched the recordings. People thought they were getting juicy gossip from her, but all they got were story outlines, and once she had even pulled a romance from a movie that hadn't done so well, and they had eaten it up! Sometimes she was certain that she could say anything, and the stupid idiots would just happily smile and nod. And although she knew all there was to know about acting, and lying, and eyes, Riley's confused her.

She watched him carefully as he stared at the sheet music, him muscles going whiter and whiter as he seemed to collapse in on himself. For one so tall, he could appear rather small, she thought, a rueful grin on her face now, the fleeting thought from a moment before completely gone. She was happy that he liked the music, and pulled it from his tight grasp, carefully unlatching his white fingers, trying to save the music as much as possible. She grinned lightly up at him, as she absentmindedly added it to the stack she already had for purchase. Again, the name Keela registered somewhere in her head, but she brushed it away again, expecting that the name was probably just the name of a character she had played.

This time she did laugh at his statement. When Fenn laughed, it was no small thing, her head always flew back, and a sound of complete happiness and joy at the funny things around her made its way out. To many it often came as a surprise when meeting her for the first time, as in all her movies, her characters all had petite feminine laughs, but for that one character that had a snort, and sounded nothing like her real laugh. It was probably one of the only completely joyful things about Fenn, as she let herself submerge in the fleeting moment of belonging. She walked away with the books, slapping them down onto the counter to be rung up. "I like you Riley, I think we're going to get along just fine. Where did you learn to be so funny?" she asked as she carefully put the sixty or seventy dollars needed for the purchase in the cashiers hand. She dissolved into giggles again, never having heard a grown man say that to her before.

Of course she thought it was a joke, not intending to hurt the Deer's feelings. No not dear, but Deer. There was something so gawky, yet sweet about him that she couldn't help thinking about him as a newborn deer. That sweet innocence that she wanted so badly to crush between her fingers as her's had been those few years ago. She grabbed the paper bag the books were put in, and walked out the door of the music store, fully expecting Riley to follow. She stared at her bike. It only needed to take the, down two blocks, and Riley might have some transport as well. "How about this," she said, lifting up the helmet. "I'll walk my bike along down to the bar, and we can get there together. Unless you have a mode of transport and we meet there? You'll need to follow me though, as I will be keeping the books just to make sure you find your way properly!" She flashed another smile at him, fully knowing that she was being a manipulative bitch. She was just a tiny bit desperate for something she couldn't quite name, but she felt like it would be a bad idea just to let this fish get away.

[Deleted]

/*\ It's hard to dance with a devil on your back /*\

Regrets collect like old friends
Here to relive your darkest moments
I can see no way, I can see no way
And all of the ghouls come out to play

"Um, I... I don't..." Riley wasn't used to his social interactions moving so fast. He was cautious when it came to other people (and with good reason, trust was hard after the things he had seen), and usually preferred taking his time when getting to know someone, taking a good objective look at them and figuring out what made them tick. But Fenn Klardie was a different story altogether. It was almost like she didn't want anyone to see the deeper parts of her, like if she moved fast enough and made all of your decisions for you and laughed so loudly you forgot what you were thinking, that maybe she could hide away all of those parts of her that she didn't want anyone else to see.

Can't blame her for it, though. I of all people should know what it's like to hide things.

Funny. She'd said he was funny, of all things. He'd been accustomed to a number of descriptive words being applied to him over the years, but funny certainly wasn't one of them. It was always Riley, you're so nice to everyone, how do you do it or Riley, why do you have to be so over-protective or maybe even occasionally Riley, you look kind of off today... scared, almost. Is something bothering you, but never in his life until now had someone actually uttered the words where did you learn to be so funny? Riley would be the first to acknowledge that he wasn't the most lighthearted person in the first place, though, so no wonder the adjective didn't seem to mesh with him, even though he possessed a wry, ironic sense of humor that only saw the light of day around people he was very comfortable with.

He had a choice to make, he was certain of that much, even though with the lightning-fast pace of Fenn's statements and assumptions, he didn't really feel like he had a choice at all. One, he could take her up on her offer, spend a few (hopefully) harmless hours in a bar with her and walk away from the whole affair with Keela's birthday present under his arm. Two, he could call the whole thing off and go back to sifting through piles of music on his own, anything he might manage to scrounge up certainly not as impressive as hand-selected pieces with Fenn Klardie's autograph on them. Groaning internally, the dark-haired guitarist realized that his second option wasn't really an option in the slightest, and he was stuck in a situation he'd rather not be stuck in for the umpteenth time. Not that Fenn wasn't nice enough or interesting enough (she was actually a puzzle he was interested in putting together, but Riley had learned that sticking your nose where it didn't belong was a dangerous thing), but there were a million things about this that could go wrong.

He had a girlfriend. As much as Bridgit meant to him, their relationship was one of the things keeping him from immediately jumping headlong into this business of getting Keela's music from Fenn, and Riley had to admit that he'd feel much less guilty going to a bar with a gorgeous, famous movie star if he was single. And if someone saw them... he couldn't even fathom the can of worms that would have the potential to open up. But be that as it may, there wasn't much he could do about his romantic status at the moment, other than keep a running mantra of BridgitBridgitBridgit in his head throughout the evening and praying to every force in the universe that Fenn wasn't one of those crazy philandering famous people that liked to fool around with starstruck fans for the fun of it.

Yeah, like she'd every try to put the moves on me anyway. She's probably got some high-profile A-list boyfriend, so I've got nothing to worry about... right?

"We can walk," he said with an offhanded shrug of a bony shoulder, trying for all the world to make it look like he'd sincerely been trying to make a joke with the whole smoothie place comment. This situation was going to be tremulous enough without him being his socially-awkward and decidedly uncool self. The motions of a smirk felt odd, foreign on his lips as Fenn picked up the bag of music books and headed for the door, but he forced it nonetheless, trying to remember everything his outsider's-view of high school had ever taught him about what normal guys did around pretty girls. Riley had a feeling his standard mumbling and blushing and close examination of his feet wouldn't get him too far with someone like Fenn, who practically exuded confidence. "I'm not sure I like your plan, though, Miss Klardie. How do I know you won't pull one over on me and run off with the books anyway?"

He made sure to say it a joking tone as he held the door open for her, eyebrows shooting skyward at the sight of the incredibly nice motorcycle parked on the curb. The Lightwoods had a car, but it was almost as old as Riley and not in nearly as good condition as Fenn's bike was. There were definitely perks to being famous, he supposed. She hadn't lied about the walk being short, and a few minutes of small talk later the two of them were walking through the swiftly descending twilight and into a bar that was nothing like what Riley had been expecting. The extent of his knowledge of bars came from movies, where they were typically shady establishments filled with even shadier clientele, whereas this place was nice, high-end, even, with comfy-looking wraparound booths enclosing small tables and uniformed servers walking around giving martinis and the like to patrons that didn't look to be thugs or ruffians in the slightest. Well, maybe this wouldn't be so bad.

He let Fenn sit down before folding himself into the booth next to her with a grin that was far more self-assured than he actually felt, still feeling considerably out of his element even though there weren't any bar fights going on and no one was throwing bottles at the wall or anything. The thought struck him that he'd probably be laughed out of the place if he were to order his actual drink of choice (he had a weakness for root beer floats, okay, who cared that they were for kids?!), and that really, he had no idea what to even get, much less how much this whole foray was going to cost him. True, he had a fair amount of cash since Fenn had paid for the books, but he wasn't really interested in going broke for the sake of an autograph. Chewing nervously on his lower lip, Riley let out a small, apprehensive laugh split the air as he looked up at Fenn almost pleadingly. "Okay, so how much are you going to laugh at me for being lame when I tell you I've never done this before? Like... I didn't want to sound like a dork, but I've never had a drink in my life and I have no idea what I'm doing. Help?"

Well, goodbye, dignity. Nice knowing you.

[/justify][/size]
I am done with my graceless heart
So tonight I'm gonna cut it out and then restart
'Cause I like to keep my issues strong
It's always darkest before the dawn

[✌ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ]

S P E A K I N G // T H I N K I N G

Fenn nodded slowly, storing the music in the hollow back seat. Kicking the kickstand up with a flick of her ankle, she wheeled it around and smiled, almost shyly up at Riley. This was almost a new experience for her, and she was suddenly out of her waters. Normally she met her acquaintances at the bars already, and they were already pretty well done. Mostly they just pulled her into their dark booth, and suddenly their hands were all over her, running all down her body, even to the places that she hadn't given them permission to search. Once or twice she had even had a rather odd experience in a bathroom stall after the regular movie awards were finished. (She had won best actress that year, and was already feeling on top of the world anyway.)

Anyway, the point was, Fenn had no idea where to look or what to say at this point. None of the acting that she had ever done had ever prepared her for this. Truthfully, her heart still sped up and beat rapidly when she watched old classic movies. The part where Joe Fox came around the corner in 'You've got mail' and Katherine Carey says that she wanted it to be him so desperately always made her insides melt like butter sitting in the sun too long. Just once, she felt like she would give everything just for someone to tell her that they wanted it to be her when she came along. No matter how many times she told herself that she was being silly and romantic, the thoughts would still sneak up and poke her in the forehead, wondering if they had been forgotten about yet. And Fenn would poke and growl right back.

Mostly because it isn't her job to be a sentimental weeper. Once she thought about it, she was a sex doll, who sometimes acted. But those thoughts were icky, and Fenn didn't like them, so she mostly reassured herself that she was an actor who sometimes had sex. And drunk. A lot. Snapping back to the current scene, Fenn grinned maliciously in the way that she did when she played the blondie from District Four. She had to learn to surf for that movie, and it was ridiculous how many bruises and cuts she had obtained from it. Laughing, she turned to face him, one hand on the bike, and the other held out, as if she were holding a tea cup. "I can't believe that you doubt me!" mock hurt flooded her face as she extended her pinky. "But here you are, I pinky promise."

Fenn turned, hiding a grin, and walked ahead for a moment, comically stopping to lean against her bike in a teasing manner. "Mr. Riley Lightwood, you sure are slow for those long legs." The place wasn't far though, and as they walked together, Fenn kept up a constant stream of chatter. She wasn't even aware what nervously spewed from her mouth at all. She knew that she was mentioning something about the new movie she was in the midst of. They were taking a week off as a slight vacation because the male lead had taken ill with the 'flu'. No one was fooled. It was mono from the female supporting actress. Everyone knew they had been fooling around. It was odd how everyone had looked at Fenn strangely after that, as if she were expected to be jealous. It was more like perturbed that he had thrown off the schedule.

She parked her bike, grabbing the bag of music from the back, and only blushing a tiny bit when Riley held open the door for her. SHe looked down to hide her rosy cheeks. When she sat in the booth, fear coursed through her for a moment, a flash of memory of the last time someone had slid into a booth beside her. She shook her head quickly, knowing that this wasn't the same thing at all. She unclenched her hands, her knuckles white as she flashed a smile at Riley. "Well this is it, my local haunt I guess," she slid her hand across the table, as if presenting her universe. She placed the music down on the table as she shifted away a tiny bit, trying to create a bit of space. She wanted to smack herself for being so silly. She was probably sitting next to the most innocent guy she had ever met. Especially because he had just told ehr he had never had his first drink.

"Hmmm, well, I guess we'll just have to find your drink," she said, almost laughing, but holding it back with mercy for Riley. She lifted a menu, running her hand along it, knowing all the drinks on it off by heart. "We could start you off with..." she drifted off suddenly, thinking of what she had for her first drink. It had been when she was only sixteen. Something about....grim horror spread itself through her, and she grabbed onto the edge of the table as the haunting memory revisited her with a soft hiss.

She was gagging on it, through her small choked sounds, tears streaking down her face, she read the label on the bottle. It was tequila, so alcoholic, that a perfectly preserved worm was slipped inside. To her, it tasted of carpet and cleaner, and it was terrible. She tried another, a mint type of vodka. Green sludge slipped from her lips as she coughed it back up. But she kept trying, certain that this would help her stop thinking. Vodka. Bitter and just as window washing tasting, but when she poured a can of coke into the small bottle, it was okay. She drank it down and tried the rum, hoping it might be just as good. Nope, equally disgusting. She went to the fridge and grabbed a can of beer. It was cold on her throat, and tasted of sour skunks, but it was better than nothing. Fenn chugged it down and opened another. Throwing the can across the room, she slid down to the floor to rest against the fridge, her head in her hands.

She wanted to cry, to throw herself onto the ground and die, anything but this intense pain and loneliness. After a moment, she looked back up, sniffling, and suddenly the fluorescents were too bright. She stood, and quickly toppled over, and realized that it was starting to take affect. Fenn's face was going numb, and thoughts were quickly jumbling themselves up nicely. Instead of trying to stand again, she opened the fridge up and grabbed another beer, this time drinking it down easily before grabbing another. her hands shook, but she didn't notice as Fenn began the decent into unknowing bliss. Thoughts were whirling out the open window of her mind, and she was grateful, and so happy to be finally free for at least a moment, that she decided that she never needed to touch down on sober ground again.

Fenn shook her head quickly, smiling up a bit shakily at Riley before quickly ordering a Gin and Tonic and a Rum and Coke for her companion. The morning after that night hadn't been as great, it had resulted in cleaning the floors of hr puke, but mostly living in the bathroom, a bottle of vodka guarding her. Resting her head on her hands, she tried to shake away the last bit of memory, and found it smarting still. It had been some time since her last drink, and even though she was at a bar, about to be served, she pulled out her flask, and took a sip of whatever it was she had filled it with earlier. She looked back up at Riley, enjoying his puppy dog look. He looked completely lost, and for some reason, it made her feel completely powerful. Smiling, and not without malice, she said, "Fear not, my little damsel in distress, I'll save you." And then the drinks arrived, and she slid Riley his rum and coke across the table.

[Deleted]

/*\ I was unaware how fine you was before my buzz set in /*\

Blame it on the Goose, got you feelin' loose
Blame it on the 'Tron, got you in the zone
Blame it on the a-a-a-a-a-alcohol
Blame it on the a-a-a-a-a-alcohol

"I resent being called a damsel. I prefer the term 'person of delicate constitution,'" Riley muttered, trademark streak of Lightwood sarcasm rearing its head as he offered Fenn a tentative smile and wrapped a slender hand around the glass she slid in his direction. Quirking an eyebrow curiously, he held the tumbler up to the light and examined the dark amber liquid inside skeptically. "This glass is tiny. What's the point of buying something if you can drink it in one gulp?"

For the umpteenth time that evening, he found himself reflecting on how out of place he felt in this situation, sitting in a bar across from a pretty girl with an honest-to-goodness alcoholic drink in his hand. The concept was nearly unfathomable, to think that the same boy who had packed individual lunches for his siblings in brown paper bags with their names on them and sent them off to school with a hug and a love you, have a good day just that morning was now knocking back cocktails with a movie star... Or at least he was supposed to be knocking back cocktails, the sudden realization dawning on him that he was still looking at the concoction like it was something that might bite him. Trying new things was never easy, especially for Riley, who had such a strong aversion to change that he spent every minute of his waking life trying to ensure that things in his family would remain the same, a facsimile of domestic harmony that brought enough balance to take care of everyone else but left him a scarred mess, emotionally and physically. Maybe that fear of things changing was what made him feel so apprehensive, staring into the depths of the glass with eyes the same dark amber of the liquid they gazed upon.

Well, if anyone's ever needed to loosen up a bit, it's me.

"Let's see if you have good taste in drinks after all, Miss Fenn Klardie. Cheers." Taking a deep breath, Riley made his best attempt to look confident as he brought the edge of the glass to his lips. After all, it really was a tiny serving, and even if it did taste horrid he could probably down the whole thing at once. That was probably the best course of action, he decided, and tipped the glass skyward - only sputter profusely and spit half of the stuff back into the tumbler while the rest of the liquid burned a scorching trail down his throat, prompting ragged coughs and watering eyes as he glared at the demonic beverage that had inflicted this torture on him. How could people ingest this stuff? It was like drinking battery acid mixed with a number of other unpleasant things, and even though Fenn had said it was a rum and coke he couldn't taste a single trace of soda, only the sharpsoursweet tang that lingered on his tongue and continued burning all the way down until it settled into his stomach in an uncomfortably warm knot. Blinking his eyes slowly, a lightbulb all but flickered on over his head. There was probably a reason the glass had been so small. "So I guess you're just supposed to drink it in little sips, right?"

His voice came out in a faint croak, still rough from all the gagging and coughing, and Riley couldn't help but think that Fenn must be having a grand old time watching him make an utter fool of himself, smirking between dignified sips of her whatever-it-was-she-was-drinking, even though he couldn't tell whether or not she was actually smirking. That half-glass of rum and coke had done something to his vision, blurring it temporarily for a few seconds until the world bled gradually back into focus and he picked the glass up for a second time with all the delicacy that one would use handling a live explosive. "All right, let's try that again."

Really, the stuff wasn't that bad when taken a sip at a time. In fact, Riley found himself thinking that it was really good after he'd cautiously finished the last dregs of the drink, a waitress whisking the empty glass away and replacing it with a full one before he'd even had time to ask for another. That guitarist picked up the new drink with a shrug, guessing that the service staff here were used to people coming in and over-indulging. He could taste the cola in this drink a little more, perhaps it was mixed better, but nonetheless it was much easier to stomach, and each sip went down with a pleasant warm afterglow that was distinctly more enjoyable than the raw fire he'd brought on himself with his first attempt. And before long his second glass was empty, the same waitress coming back and asking him if he'd like anything else. Looking up at Fenn as if expecting her to come to his rescue with more of her seemingly endless knowledge of beverages, Riley started to notice that he was feeling a bit odd. The room was definitely warmer than it had been when they'd walked in, and everything in his mind seemed a bit fuzzy around the edges, blurring into everything else until there was no real definition to anything anymore. And for some reason, it was funny, so funny that the simple action of glancing up at his companion made Riley dissolve into a fit of giggles that would put a high school girl to shame, reaching forward with a lanky arm and grabbing the menu from the table's surface, holding it up in front of him.

"Oh, Fenn, they have iced tea here, you didn't tell me that! I love tea. I dunno what a 'Long Island' is, but I want tea." Blinking slowly again, it dawned on Riley that he wasn't talking like himself, the usually quiet, noncommittal tenor of his voice much more confident and for once loud enough that he could be easily understood. And then there was the fact that he was rambling about pointless things like tea without any sort of mental filter (no, really, he couldn't stop himself if he tried and it was a bit unsettling, truth be told). As the waitress walked off, Riley leaned forward across the table, a lazy grin working its way across his face as he motioned for Fenn to come closer so he could whisper conspiratorially in her ear. "Fenn. Fenn, I think I'm drunk. Pffffff, this is so fantastic."

And then he was laughing again, the blissful, effortless kind of laugh that he hadn't been able to pull up in years, positively giddy for no reason at all. What had he been worried about before? Something about the family? Keela and her birthday or some such? At any rate, it didn't matter now, especially not when said oddly-named iced tea was being placed in front of him and half of it was gone within five minutes. Riley couldn't understand why people were so disapproving of drinking (forget the fact that he had grounded Keela for sneaking out to parties more times than he could count) when it was obviously so enjoyable. It felt good to not have inhibitions for once, to not care, even though some small part of his conscience twinged in apprehension when he grinned at the brunette across the table, tracing over her features with a new appreciation that wasn't augmented by the fact that he had a girlfriend (he shouldn't be looking at her like that, he'd kick himself for it later, but it was another one of those things where he couldn't stop himself. Maybe the people who demonized drinking were onto something) "You... You've got... your eyes are really pretty. You're really pretty, actually."

What the hell am I getting myself into?

[/justify][/size]
Blame it on the vodka, blame it on the Henny
Blame it on the blue-top, got you feelin' dizzy
Blame it on the a-a-a-a-a-alcohol
Blame it on the a-a-a-a-a-alcohol

[✌ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ]

S P E A K I N G // T H I N K I N G

I'm gonna marry the night
I won't give up on my life
I'm a warrior queen
Live passionately tonight

Fenn decided to not comment, and simply watch him. She was quietly drinking down her gin and tonic without a fuss, enjoying the taste of it. Although it was definitely an acquired one, what she registered the most was what it did to her. The way the warmth spread through her, taking away that coldness that always seemed to keep her frozen. Feeling it beginning to affect her, she stretched out her fingers as if cracking ice on top of a frozen over puddle. in response, she let out a soft sigh, and relaxed against the backing of the seat, as if it was more than her support. And maybe it was, seeing as this bar was more than just a bar to Fenn. Underage or no, this bar was a second home. And currently she was watching an adorable young man try to remain calm and collected.

She almost wanted to reach over and push Riley's arm down, stop him from that corrupting moment, try to keep him innocent like she had taken her own. She didn't really want to be responsible for more than one murder of youth. But even as she thought about it, she looked into his eyes and saw the old man living inside them. Everyone had to grow up at some point, and it seemed that Riley's time had come quite a long time ago. Maybe he had even been through something life changing like her. Maybe even something worse. That would be something to ask about later, if there even was a later. Chances were, and time and time again had showed her that most companions held their one night only tickets firmly in their hands, and definitely not ready to pay the price for another one.

She wasn't quite sure what made her so undesirable. She knew that most people just wanted her for the sex. Which didn't really bother her. She wanted most people for the sex too. She knew that it was a bad thing to be addicted to, but hey, so was alcohol, and that never stopped her before. Sometimes she found it weird when women on the T.V spoke of rights, and they weren't just sex objects. What was so bad about that? It was the way Fenn got to have her human contact, and there was no commitment. No one had to talk during it, and there was no way to get hurt from it, because no one promised to be there in the morning, and no one promised to be there when she was crying. Just like she didn't have to be there when they were. No strings attached was always safer.

A hand flew to her lips when the boy across from her spit half his drink back into his cup. She could have warned him, she supposed, but sometimes an old soul needs a little bit of entertainment. Pointedly, she took a quick gulp from her drink, the liquid burning down her throat. She smiled through it, appearing relaxed and at ease. It wasn't that she enjoyed being superior to people. Much. It was just that when someone made a fool of herself and it wasn't her, it was worth it for her to sit back and enjoy it. She watched him concentrate on sipping, and began to fiddle with the zipper on her jacket, she knew that she should speak, mewl out some response, but she couldn't think of anything witty to say at the moment. Although she was never left speechless for long, something about him made her want to be cautious.

I'm gonna marry the dark
Gonna make love to the stars
I'm a soldier to my own emptiness
I'm a winner

She kept sipping her drink down, and the waitress came back twice more. Both times, fenn got the same. Tonight she was drinking to get absolutely hammered. Riley being there was just a point in it. speaking of, he was leaning over the table, and grabbing at the menu, bringing im in close proximity to her for a few short moments, making her breath stop as his curled head teetered close. Suddenly she felt like a terrible chaperon, although she felt a little surprised that he was already gone after two rum and cokes. She had not noticed the usual signs either, so invested was she in her own self. She sent the waitress off with a flick of her wrist, asking for two of the iced teas, just to save the poor woman from Riley's yammering. There was something almost scary different about this Riley.

His voice, she noticed was suddenly a lot louder, and he seemed to be shouting at her, making wild gestures with his hands. Her brain, warmed up like a hot soup in summer by the drinks worked to evaluate his level of drunkeness. She was pretty certain of her ability to tell when a person was about to through up, so she didn't think she had to worry too much about that, but Riley was getting louder and louder, and people were starting to look. So when he motioned for her to come forward, a look of intense concentration on his face, as if he were building a bird house, rather than making a small gesture, she leaned forward to listen to his sure to be poignant discovery. And as the words fell out of his mouth, more like parachuted out, he fell back in such a laugh that it made a grin come to Fenn's face as well, and she couldn't help joining him in throwing her head back and laughing. It had been so long after all since she had laughed with another person over nothing at all, and so she chose to laugh until she was sure she cracked a rib.

the Waitress arrived back with their long iced teas, and Fenn took a gulp from it quickly, the sweetness of it creating a defense for the bitterness to follow. her face was beginning to feel numbed by it, but she didn't find herself minding. Riley stopped laughing long enough to lean over and compliment her, and when he did, something strange happened. A blush formed itself upon her face, spreading from her nose outwards, and she found herself looking down into her lap. For the moment, she decided to blame it on the alcohol, but she knew that it wasn't a very stable argument seeing as she was always in a state of half-drunk. Shaking her head, she tried to clear the compliment out, knowing that he was inebriated, and therefor, not thinking very straight at all.

and she was about to, she was about to be a good girl and make the right choice, she really was, but something stopped her. Maybe it was because no one had said anything like that before. The most she had gotten was 'nice ass,' or 'sweet tits.' Yeah, a compliment on the eyes was a new thing, and fuck it, she wasn't going to let it slide. She let him finish his iced tea, before passing him the almost full flask she had. She had determined that it was whisky. The thought that Riley wouldn't like it didn't occur to her, as she shared it, her mind already turning all fuzzy and jumbled. These were usually the last moments she remembered before waking up in some cold alley way or on the floor of her living room, a naked body wrapped around her own.

I'm gonna lace up my boots
Throw on some leather and cruise
Down the street that I love
In my fishnet gloves, I'm a sinner

Her mind was popping like bubbles, and she found her world growing smaller and smaller as the drinks kept coming and Riley got taller and taller to her. They both yammered, but she wasn't quite sure about what was said in the end. whatever it was, it probably made the least sense possible. But that's what drunken conversations were. And her stomach felt fine, and nothing was trying to work it's way up for her, and she was pretty certain that Riley, who still had not drinken as much as her, would have thrown up by now if it were too much, being a new drinker and all. But things were going fine, and her mouth wouldn't stop trying to curl up into a smile, so instead of trying to stop it, she let it, and let herself free to enjoy the ride.

She was laughing freely now, along with Riley. The only thing that mattered at the moment was the drink in front of her and the boy across from her. She leaned over the table to pat him seriously on the shoulder as she looked him in the eyes. "Riley, you, you, you, you, are the prettiest damsel I have ever seen. No shame in it." Sitting back at her joke, she was rather proud, she laughed loudly again, holding up the empty flask they both had drained. It was black tarnished silver, and it had apparently been an heirloom. She waved it around in the air, a thought coming to her as her face lit up. "Riley, Riley, Riley, you indirect kissed me, now you gotta kiss my lips because that's rude otherwise." She looked around as if afraid, her concerned look erupting into giggles as her plan ran on crazily ahead of her.

"Not, not here though? Okay? Not here!" Her palm came down on the table with a loud slap, and she glared at him, trying to emote the seriousness of the situation. "Take me home Riley, please take me home." She wanted to lie down on her comfortable bed and kiss him there because she could see by looking at his lips that they were soft. And she wanted them against her own because softness was something she found herself craving all day and all night. And she wanted it, wanted it, wanted it, now. So she stood up, and carefully counted out the bills needed to pay for their drinks, slapping them down on the table. And abruptly, she pulled the long, gangly guy to his feet, dragging him out the door. Pointing off in the direction she thought home was, she said, "Take me home country road!" and strode off, albeit a bit wobbly, paying no attention to the beautiful bike with the beautiful music inside it.

Then I'll go down to the bar
But I won't cry anymore
I'll hold my whiskey up high
Kiss the bartender twice, I'm a loser

[/color][/size]

[Deleted]

/*\ I know that I'm not all that you want /*\

My lover she’s waiting for me just across the bar
My seat’s been taken by some sunglasses asking bout a scar
I know I gave it to you months ago
I know you’re trying to forget

Riley knew it probably wasn't a good idea to knock back whatever it was that Fenn was offering him in the little silver bottle she extended in his direction, but at the moment the humming in his head was stronger than his logic. Laughing at absolutely nothing again, he took the flask from her (tried not to notice the little electric tremors shooting up his arm when their fingers brushed past each other) and took a fairly large swig of whatever was inside. The stuff burned like liquid fire and tasted kind of musty, but on the whole it wasn't that bad. Or maybe he was just too far gone to notice it was awful, he couldn't really tell. Either way, the substance only heightened the feeling of euphoria, of weightlessness that had wrapped its way in a warm blanket around his spindly frame, and Riley wasn't about to complain, smiling lazily and handing the now empty container back to the brunette across the table. "I'm... I'm not a damsel, Fenn, duh. Damsels are girls. And I'm not a girl because you're a girl and I'm not you. Wait... what?"

The foggy thought crossed his mind that maybe he'd overindulged a bit. Not only did he have absolutely no mental filter, but at this point Riley realized he wasn't even coherent. Fenn was blathering too, something about kissing that made alarm bells blare at the back of his head, followed by a slurred entreaty for him to walk her home. It was something Riley had intended to do in the first place; he'd been raised to never let a lady go somewhere at night without an escort, but the connotation behind where the action would lead him was (somewhat) clear even through the shimmery haze that had draped itself over the world. Riley had read something somewhere about alcohol clouding your judgement, and he figures it must have been right, because he finds himself weaving out of the building behind Fenn and cackling at her antics, not really caring about anything but finding somewhere to lay down before the spinning in his head made him lose himself completely.

The two of them must have been a sight to see, swerving to and fro down the darkened streets and laughing hysterically every few seconds at nothing at all. Riley couldn't remember ever feeling so good, if only the nagging little voice on the back of his head screeching at him that he was weaving down the world to adultery and debauchery would shut up for a few seconds. Whatever had been in that flask seemed to get stronger with time; the tall brunette found his reasoning becoming increasingly, well, unreasonable as the two of them stumbled towards the more upscale residential are of the district, not too far from his own house.

Fenn smells really good. It's okay to kiss her because she's right, it was totally rude of me to indirect-kiss her with the bottle-thing and if she smells good I bet it means she's a good kisser. Bridge won't care. I mean, I don't even have to tell Bridge. She'll never know, because I am a master of deception. Damn, it's hard to walk. It's hard for me to walk sober, let alone now. I'm such a klutz. Ha. Haha.

Fenn's house was grand even compared to the Lightwood estate, all ritzy architecture and perfectly maintained lawns that actually made Riley feel a little poor for the first time in his life. It took both of their combined efforts to tackle the Herculean obstacle that was the stairs up to the front porch, pausing in front of the door to share another laugh at their own clumsiness. Sighing heavily, Riley slumped against the rough brick of the front of the house, a few stray chuckles blooming over his lips and into the night air. Cloudy amber eyes shifting over to the petite girl, Riley found himself grinning rather stupidly, the words leaving his mouth all sticky and sloppily-enunciated in a way that would have made his sober self cringe. "So. So. You were... You were serious about the kiss, riiiight? B'cause my girlfriend will kill me if I did this and I didn't have to. But that's the rule? If you indirect-kiss someone then you gotta do it for real?"

Shrugging, he leaned forward, bending down so he was actually at eye-level with Fenn. What harm could one little kiss do? The euphoric poison singing in his veins told him that he was capable of anything, and he was inclined to believe it, slipping further and further into the fog that called to him in siren song to just float away to a place where nothing could ever trouble him again. Gradually pulled by that insistent undertow, Riley closed the last few inches between the two of them and pressed his lips to hers.

The last coherent thought that Riley would later remember is that Fenn Klardie tasted like Nutella. Well, Nutella and gin, but the latter was probably due to the beverages she'd been consuming throughout the evening. Kissing her was nice, different from kissing Bridgit in the way that it wasn't sweet or in the slightest way romantic, more demanding than anything else, really, and Riley couldn't say that he minded. Things started breaking into fragmented bits at that point, somehow the two of them ended up fumbling against the front door in inebriated efforts to get it open, and when success was finally achieved Riley found himself being yanked inside the house as his awareness spiraled away like a leaf on the wind.

[[fade to black]]

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But between the drinks and subtle things, the holes in my apologies
I’m trying hard to take it back
So if by the time the bar closes, and you feel like falling down
I'll carry you home tonight

[✌ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ]

our tale continues here.