LENNON HARLOW . 32 . owner of parlour lounge .
falling feels like flying 'til the bone crush
— i don't like a gold rush
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isobelsawycrs:
location: the local grocery store
closed starter for: @lenharlow
whenever she has free time to plan out her weeks, isobel takes every minute into consideration. there’s only so many days she can work with where there’s enough time for her to get her errands done, and with a growing private catering business, she feels as though those moments are dwindling more and more. but the one thing she always has time for is a fridge restock, especially when it’s for a client. while some people dread the grocery store, isobel sawyer takes solace within its walls. she’s taking her time wandering up and down the aisles, hands reaching for familiar ingredients while she plays with catering menus in her mind, and it’s easy to see that she’s lost in her own little world. but the one thing she forgets about the grocery store — and westerly in general — is that the space is small. rounding the corner to cross into the next aisle, she stopped abruptly at the sight of lennon, and despite seeing her nearly every day at work, isobel still isn’t used to seeing her out in the wild.
“fancy meeting you here,” she teases, though her tone reads as flat. trying to create ties with family she wasn’t used to was still proving to be a challenge, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t going to try. “it’s nice to see you out and about.”
little sis . little sister . the words don’t necessarily roll off of lennon harlow’s tongue . aware there was someone out there that shared their bloodline , lennon would have never seeked it out , suffocating the urge to google search isobel’s name . ( okay , except for that one time . ) owning the parlour lounge mostly fell into lennon’s lap and with it , isobel .
the blonde overheard a comment about the people who are out of touch are the ones you never see at the grocery store . for some odd reason , it stuck with lennon . there is a part of them that considers the approachability of the parlour becoming synonymous with the approachability of her . in new york everyone you walk by is a ghost whose physical autonomy is simply in your way . here ? everyone’s presence is one that is acknowledged by another .
long story short , isobel is approachable . for this reason , it seems likely that lennon would run into her in the grocery store . it is why lennon occasionally pops in . partially for appearance , partially for the possibility of some sisterly bonding .
when the instance finally comes , their little’s words throw them off guard . it feels like getting caught . ‘ isobel , hi ! — uh , yeah , ’ lennon says , unfolding arms from their crossed position . ‘ just picking up a few things . ’ the realization of nothing in her hand ... she quickly reaches for the closest thing on the shelf .
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rebekahdunne:
There’s a kindness behind Lennon’s words that Rebekah, despite her sudden suspicions and concerns, very much appreciates. It isn’t often that she’s given anything other than pity in regard to her late husband and where other people’s words of condolences tend to make her feel incredibly small, the blonde’s just make her feel a little more whole again. She nods, taking in a deep breath and moving further into the wine cellar once their hands part — but the fact that Lennon had all but danced around the bracelet doesn’t go unnoticed by Rebekah. But as usual, she can’t bring herself to make a scene. Maybe there are thousands of bracelets just like that one, maybe Bill had lied to her about it being special (though she doubts it, because she’s sure the man had never lied to her about anything). Still, she’ll have to look into it more before acting upon anything, so she simply smiles at them. “You and I both then.”
To be blatantly honest, she’s a little afraid of what’s to come. Now that she’s followed her intuition downstairs for no reason other than to confirm her mind wasn’t playing tricks on her, Rebekah is a bit wary of following the lead of this stranger into a dark wine cellar. But for some reason, she doesn’t feel unsafe — and she often always feels unsafe in public. Maybe it’s because this is a better alternative than sitting upstairs and being openly gawked at. Either way, it’s too late to turn back, so she moves to the side so Lennon can lead her to whatever it is they want to show her. “Sure, as long as you aren’t going to murder me,” she jokes, though it’d be a shame if that is Lennon’s intention and the joke didn’t land. “I do mean that, please don’t.”
as soon as rebekah says it , lennon is laughing . ‘ i am not going to murder you , ’ the sound of laughter takes away the seriousness and lennon realizes this . they try to make their word more believable — ‘ i promise i’m not going to murder you ... but i love that you think i’m capable of that . ’ they say , chuckle living behind each word . ‘ i can barely rep thirty let alone body weight . ’
it takes a deep breath to satiate the amusement dripping from lennon’s expression desite the fact that one would be hard - pressed to believe rebekah dunne is a funny person . settled back into their skin , lennon reaches for rebekah’s hand with the one that is bracelet - free . they step confidently into the dark cellar , leading the way toward the light switch . once the cellar is lit and they are forgoing human touch , lennon smiles again . ‘ this is my favorite part of the parlour , ’ they share , realizing they hadn’t actually had anyone to share it with . the lights between the racks of old bottles . lennon walks through slowly , heeled steps echoing between them . they pick up a bottle and gently wipe the dust , turning toward rebekah to show her . ‘ read that . ’ romanee - conti , it says . ‘ it comes from a single vineyard of the same name in the heart of the cote d'or in burgundy . mother’s a bit of a wino and i had been dying to get my hands on a bottle . i had a woman once buy a bottle for us to split on a date , but they are so hard to come by that when i asked about buying one for her the restaurant wouldn’t even sell us a second bottle . policy . ’ lennon gets a bit lost in the memory . she probably couldn’t have afforded a bottle back then . ‘ 4.47 acres of pinot noir vines . low-yield , high-quality grapes . ’ looking up at rebekah earnestly , ‘ then one day i walk in here and i get four sitting right there on the damn shelf . ’ — ‘ would you care for a glass ? ’
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brennamoores:
Brenna has always been an extroverted person. She’s always been fairly social and outgoing and makes acquaintances just about everywhere she goes — it was just how she was raised. But actual genuine connections with people? Well, those have always been a little harder to come by — also thanks to how she was raised. But it would be a lie to say that she didn’t feel the spark of that connection with Lennon, the two of them seemingly landing on the same page without any effort. “If it was 2010 we could make it our ringtone,” she sighs with feigned longing. “I think my brain is going to start bleeding if I stick around for this much longer,” she comments dramatically. “There’s a funnel cake on the other side of the park calling my name. You wanna split it? My treat.”
admiration , adoration , sheer common interest in the form of fried dough — whatever the case , lennon says yes to extending their excursion further . usually a nice but at arm’s length kinda gal , lennon stays a bit . ‘ i can only split the funnel cake with you if it’s the size of my face , ’ lennon says the way she would a cousin in the kitchen growing up . any smaller than their head and lennon would be finishing that entire thing up herself . ‘ i’m not sure you partake in any other substances , but i do have a tasty smoke that would aid us in finishing it ——— should that interest you . ’
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helenateixeira:
OPEN STARTER
“I need you to be honest with me,” Helena said regarding the person nearest to her, pulling a face of absolutely seriousness. “Do I smell like lobster? Maybe beer? Because I’ve showered three times since the incident and I don’t know if I’m having like… hallucinations or if the smell is still there. I want you to picture this with me – it’s almost closing time down at grand ole Captain Lobsters, I’m the only person on the floor, even though the seafood gods have said ‘fuck you specifically Helena, enjoy a packed house.’ But whatever, I can handle it, industry vet or whatever. So I’m minding my own business, carrying way more than I can possibly handle because I want to go home and I’m too confident in my abilities, manage to perfectly hit the smallest spill – and I mean like, someone dropped half an ice cube and it melted small, totally fuckin’ bottom out. I’m talking feet above my head, seven cups and two full lobster dinners flying through the air like I’m some goddamn Ringling brothers juggling act. I think I blacked the next few seconds out, or maybe it’s a concussion – not important. What’s important is a come to to a restaurant of horrified faces, covered in beer and crustaceans. All that to say, if the smell is sticking, I’ll pay you to help me load a U-Haul and pick my new city.”
the onslaught of words is more than lennon expects , especially when she is , ‘ — just here to talk to a man about fish . ’ everyone recommended she go and talk to the right people about the right lobsters , so there the blonde stood following instructions . agreeing that yes , helena did smell like lobster , amongst other things , didn’t feel like the best first impression to make in the establishment . but damn was it tempting . she thinks about turning away from the brunette entirely , like she would prefer anyone else’s help . instead , lennon says absentmindedly . ‘ if you ever need a less stinky job , come by the parlour lounge . ’
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thcojackson:
@lenharlow
location — parlour lounge
There was a moment at the end of every performance, the last chord echoing in his ears, the feeling of it tensing in his fingertips just slightly, where a unique kind of contentness washed over him. In those barely there seconds before applause, TJ allows himself the chance to appreciate that he’s doing what he was meant to do. Eyes closed, he let the feeling disappear before he looked up at the crowd of people in front of him at the Parlour Lounge. There wasn’t really a high demand for pop-folk musicians at upscale cocktail lounges, but there he was, packing up his guitar after a pretty well received set. Invited by the owner after a less than ideal conversation about his genre of music, Theo had accepted the invitation as a personal challenge.
From a young age, TJ has been harboring this desperate need to prove something to the world. When someone makes a face at the idea of folk music on social media, he shrugs it off. They’re faceless, and Theo’s too old to pick fights with who he assumes are just teenagers on the internet. But someone from his hometown, who he would see around - Westerly was too small to just melt into the crowd - brought on the familiar feeling of indignation. To see someone he recognized criticize something he worked so hard on for so long, punched him in the gut. In the moment, he had shrugged off the comment and told Lennon not to knock it until they actually heard it, and then he was invited to perform.
So here he was, leaning his guitar case against the baseboard of the bar next to where the owner had been sitting while he performed, blonde eyebrow arched over blue eyes as he leaned his elbows against the bar top. “So?” TJ asked, eyes cutting to Lennon. “What’d you think?”
give him a chance — if it wasn’t lennon’s inner voice , it was certainly the little birdie in her ear . theo jackson came highly recommended . maybe that’s why she’s trying to be a bit of a hard ass , to make sure he keeps working at a high caliber while in the parlour rather than get lazy , give him something to strive for that makes him keep coming back ... then again , it has nothing to do with theo and everything to do with lennon’s skepticism . she is a woman too used being let down . why should theo be any different ? with that charm of tune ? doubtful .
lennon’s real inner voice remembers the theo from the pumpkin carving station . that version of him feels worthwhile . that version of him is poured into the empathy of his music , the self awareness of his songwriting . it’s why lennon’s opening line is — ‘ well you’re a bit of a sap , aren’t ya ? ’ when eyes look up to meet theo’s , she sees the determination in his eye . she recognizes it from the mirror . ‘ you’re good . ’ it’s a simple statement , but one that doesn’t affirm as much as it could . a release of breath , an admittance of small defeat , like maybe music could crack lennon’s surface . ‘ okay , really good . ’ words mirror the musician’s honesty now , trickling out : ‘ look , before i sing your praises , i just want to know if you can do it again . ’ fingers drum against the table and eyes fall from his earnest expression . ‘ i have a lot of odds stacked against me . it’s just important that this works . ’ an envelope passed across the table . ‘ and that’s just the door ... ’ a humble brag . ‘ bring in more people , do a few more shows like that , and we’ll talk about a cut of the bar . — what do you say ? ’
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alexmillers:
As fate would have it, the unlucky bystander that Alex collides with wasn’t as steady as she anticipated. Her attempt to steady herself on the blonde across from her was futile as they collide rather ungracefully before falling on the uneven ground of Westerly’s pumpkin patch with Alex on top of them. She was sure that there would be some type of mark left from this interaction and while she should be the one to apologize, she was ready to curse the person for allowing them both to fall into the dirt, however, when she pulls back to find a giggling Lennon Harlow, a look of confusion and almost concern spreads across her features. “Hi?” She practically asks, giving the blonde an incredulous raise of her eyebrow. She wasn’t sure just how long it has been since she’s seen the blonde that she was literally on top of, but it had to have been a couple of years at least since she hasn’t been part of the New York party scene in quite some time, but she was a little confused as to why she was running into her in Westerly of all places. “I wasn’t wearing the right shoes to be in a pumpkin patch in the first place, apparently.” She retorts as a chuckle escapes her lips only slightly. Carefully, she pushes herself off the ground and extends a hand to the blonde on the ground beneath her. “I never thought I’d see you again let alone in a place like Westerly,” she points out. “What brings you here?”
after a soothing deep breath , lennon begins pulling themself up and off the ground . it is surreal seeing a one - night - stand , not in the physically - intimate sense of the word , but in a friend - you - made - in - that - party - bathroom - once kind of way . it makes lennon smile like they are old friends . or maybe that’s all they can help but do while wiping potential hay from their bottom . eyebrows raise . i never thought i’d see you here almost sounds like you’re thinking about the person and whether or not you’d see them . it probably isn’t the case , but lennon takes compliments where she can get them . it is a part of confidence - maintenance . by the time the blonde realizes it’s time to explain herself to a new yorker , the nerves do set in a bit . instead of playing the part , lennon’s imposter syndrome is out to play . ‘ oh , i own the parlour lounge , ’ lennon explains . as soon as she does it , a smile widens again . ‘ i own the parlour lounge , can you believe it ? ’ it is the first time that lennon proves to be excited about the endeavor . ‘ sorry , i hadn’t properly said that out loud before ... you should swing by when you’re free . ’ a few years ago , getting excited about anything outside of new york would have made lennon cringe . could the charm westerly’s working on them last ?
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davistwo:
lamar watches her expression shift — knows, without a thought, that he’d said the wrong thing. all that talk of the recognition and need and all he could do was catch its unearthly edges and weigh it down with utterly human, utterly bitter betrayal. betrayal that, at its false height, stands on the virtue of his own imagination. so what now ? an apology ? doubling down ? in this battle of truth versus belief, lamar’s underdeveloped sense of emotional righteousness fumbles for even footing, for something to hold onto. and at the end of it all he realizes that his infallible instinct, for once, has failed him.
‘ all right. ’ and the proud string holding his chin up abruptly snaps. he can’t hold her gaze; not with the texture of the hotel sofa ghosting beneath his fingertips, not as he remembers her smile, her laugh, when he’d told her about playing tackle football in a rainstorm; how he’d flung himself, chest-first, down the slope of the field and slid right into the endzone, his brother sliding in right behind him. and then she steps closer. he looks up. takes a beat in the silence. almost self-conscious, ‘ all i’m saying is the last time i saw you — ’ well, that was different. more. wasn’t it ? ‘ you took his shit and you never came back. what am i supposed to do with that ? ’ there’s some courage in him again as dark eyes dart between blue. then a rush of winter-cold air kicks at the back of his neck, his bare skin bristling. if not here, then where ?
being questioned in the middle of the walkway in and out of the grocery store . wow , this just isn’t going to do it for me . the blonde sucks in a deep resounding breath . she wants to give lamar grace , but it isn’t in the cards at first . ‘ you’re like really protective over your team mates things — ’ lennon starts , jaw clenching so that you know it isn’t going to get any better . ‘ is that why you took an interest in me in the first place ? ’ arms fold over chest , but she’s taking a step closer to him , even more infuriated by the fact that he refuses to look her in the eye . ‘ that’s what it was , was it ? you just looking after your team mates things . ’ while he hasn’t said it , she had , lennon is still triggered by the idea of being renounced to a thing , even hypothetically . she had been a chess piece before and refused to be one again . so close now that their faces are centimeters apart , lennon’s eyes go in search of lamar’s so much so that she bends down a bit to meet the crutched level he stood at . voice is calm now . calm but serious . ‘ i didn’t exactly receive a phone call asking what happened . ’
it hits lennon a bit , but facial expression doesn’t waiver . the idea hits them that lamar might have no idea she was at the hospital after his accident , had no idea that heeled footsteps in hospital hallways were the opening soundtrack to the revenge his team mate took on them both when he began working with the cops . it wasn’t just the blonde he had set his revenge on but his team mate , who un — purposefully stole something out from under his nose , as if he’d had it the entire time — lennon .
manicured fingers snatch the grocery list with entitlement , reading it off . ‘ bananas , floss picks , coffee , condoms — ’ lennon deadpans , adding her own dry , latex humor to the list . the hand clutching the mercedes key tosses it to lamar like he is fully - abled and the crutches are props . ‘ wait in my car . i’ll get these . ’ it’s the least i can do .
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mdwomn:
𝗪𝗛𝗘𝗥𝗘 harvest festival
𝗪𝗛𝗢 open starter
🎃 — the lines were insanely long. it was different front the other years. it seemed way more lively than before. more familiar faces were around every corner. it was different and gigi didn’t like different. after what seemed like an eternity gigi was finally able to get a glass of beer. the bartender filled it up to the rim just how she liked it. when she picked it up a few drops left the glass , splashing slightly against her hand and ultimately falling to the ground.
like she said , it was more crowded. just as she turned around to began walking off and away from the bar , gigi knocks into someone. her hand released the glass and the beer went falling to the ground. the leaves gathered on the floor prevented the glass from breaking , but it was inevitable for the beer itself to splash around their feet. it was completely her fault but it was gigi. she let out a scoff and crossed her arms before looking at the person. ‘ you’re getting me a new beer. now. ’
living in new york means tuning people out is second nature . handbags , designer handbags and other solicitations on the street were practically invisible to the blonde . it felt dehumanizing at first , the blonde felt she owed it out of humanity to respond to each and every person as a teen , but parents and new york culture quickly got that out of her . in westerly , there is less noise . if someone says something to you while you pass them on the street , and don’t stop ... well that might just come across as rude .
this time , though it starts with a bump as lennon is trying to walk passed the bar . it is in a slightly crowded corner , so second nature tells lennon to ignore it — but when the brunette is suddenly talking to her , lennon does not process a word . me ? she thinks to ask , but never do words that lack certainty come spewing on a whim . instead , body language pulls back . there is a familiarity about gigi , maybe that’s really why lennon stops . had they come across each other before ? is this deja vu ? whatever the rhyme or reason , lennon is now furrowing brows , confused at the woman’s huffed body language . — ‘ what’s that ? ’
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thcojackson:
Blonde eyebrows arched just a little higher. “You know, you make a good point. Think anyone trying to bother you would run the other way once they find out that knife has a motor.” A chuckle at her joke almost went unheard over the sound of childhood memories being made. “The best kind of appliances have that caveat, huh?” Glancing back at the project before him, Theo sighed dramatically. “I’m hoping that their parents get back soon so I can pass this project onto them.” The best thing about being an uncle is that he can play with the kids, but he can also always give them back. “Hoping I’ll be able to start drinking way sooner than fuckin’ Thanksgiving. Which is in fact how long this project will take me if I don’t get rescued soon.”
blonde eyebrows arch in mirror image of theo’s because two can play at that game ( even if theo isn’t playing a game at all ) . a bit of tipsy and the power that surges through lennon’s body at the use of a power tool , however little power it musters , means she is on one ... but before lennon can think to make a smart ass comment about projects or thanks giving , a child that was at the table just a moment ago catches her attention . it’s hard for lennon to know which children theo is responsible for , never quite one to fawn over a kid unless they look like they should be on the cover of vogue , looked like they could have come out of her own body , or are very tiny . this kid only catches lennon’s attention because of its fearless antics , running around like they are about to win best - costume even though they had just acquired it moments earlier ... ‘ is that one of yours ? running with the pumpkin on its head ? ’ lennon asks , pointing toward the child running around with a hollowed out pumpkin over the top of their head .
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ryderxdillon:
“I guess I can always try harder? Come on, it’s free. One bite won’t hurt?” Well, maybe not through his eyes. However that was bias talking again. The man was ready to admit defeat. He didn’t find it enjoyable to push people into doing something they didn’t want to. Only, to bask in the glory of what the food entailed. And to him it was just pure gold. “I think there’s everything pumpkin here. I think that flavor is a staple for Fall.”
the consideration of a try - hard is both appealing and boring at the same time . a try - hard comes in handy , but the blonde isn’t always wanting one in hand . sometimes they like someone who will give them a run for their money , equal in their commiseration of circumstances . for now , lennon decides to see just how agreeable ryder can be . maybe it’s the blue glimmer of hope in his eyes , and the ability to assume freeness is synonymous with deliciousness . ‘ i could try it , ’ lennon offers like she’s doing him a favor , like there aren’t plenty of other westerly hopefuls trying to get a free pumpkin baked good by a pretty boy in autumn ... ‘ if you’re willing to try every other pumpkin thing here . ’ a smirk almost tugs at lips but lennon lets amusement subside in curiosity . ‘ i hear it’s a flavor staple for fall , ’ they suggest in repetition of ryder’s own words . a small smile starts to grow as lennon waits in anticipation over whether or not she and the man before her are about to embark on a pumpkin - food - tour endeavor .
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wistcriasgrow:
talking to strangers isn’t her strong suit, but that doesn’t stop the brunette from striking up a conversation anyway. when it comes to having company, loch doesn’t know the first thing about holding a conversation, but that doesn’t stop her from trying at the very least. besides, if she treats every person as if they’re a patron at holy water, then she can at least moonlight as someone who knows how to socialize.
“i think pigs search for apples. but bobbing? i read once that they don’t really have great eyesight, so they rely on their sense of smell a lot. last i checked, you can’t really smell things under water.” loch’s shoulders lift up in a subtle shrug, the smile tugging at her lips almost nonexistent and private. she’s trying her best here, even if her best comes across as half-assed. “but in terms of grabbing apples, i’d say they’re doing better than pigs. one of them already has at least three apples in their basket, so i think they might be a shoe-in to win.” releasing a sigh, loch can’t help but let the noise turn to a chuckle, eyes then turning on the blonde. “harvest festival happenings are riveting.”
considering loch’s words is like taking a walk down memory lane , pictures painted in bright colors . pinks and reds , and eventually��eyes seeing water , right before your lack of air makes it turn from blue to grey to dark ... their empathetic nature is wasted on bobbed apples , but alas lennon does not give up hope for the one person they thought would really take the prize . arms fold over chest , eyes glued to the scene before them as if completely forgetting that there is a sweet , young , beautiful thing in front of them worthy of equal attention . an honest review — ‘ you know what , now that you mention it , i have never been more riveted . ’ it sounds like sarcasm because it almost is . lennon might even snap out of it and say that it is sarcasm seeing as it is a first language , but their genuine streak is on the forefront . lennon is watching the shoe - in - to - win , and part of them feels like loch is too good at prediction . just a moment prior hadn’t they all been tied ? head cocks to the side now , and lennon can feel the blonde locks cascading against their neck as wind blows it in their stillness . their genuine streak continues , but it doesn’t always sound as nice . ‘ is it possible we’re losing brain cells watching this ? ’
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brennamoores:
The thing about Westerly is that no matter how annoying the girls in front of them are, no one is going to confront them. At least, not in a genuinely mean way. It’s a little bit refreshing after spending ten years in New York City but also mind boggling all in one. Not that Brenna wants to hurt their feelings — thankfully, she has long since matured past her fifteen year old self who was so insecure in her own shoes that she couldn’t help but lash out at other’s just to make herself feel bigger — but she does kind of want them to shut the hell up. “Should we offer to buy their next drinks if they come down? Maybe someone else’ll swoop up there and take over.” She glances up at the girls who are clearly enjoying the attention from the small crowd who are, for whatever reason, encouraging the train wreck in front of them. She turns her attention to the blonde beside her now, taking a page out of her book and tearing her eyes away from the show going on. “What do you think the odds are that they start a SoundCloud tomorrow?”
there is something about laughter that feels synonymous with bonding — or maybe lennon simply sees a lot of herself in brenna , at least the parts of herself she likes , the ones that are easy enough to confront . so while in some situations the blonde might hide the ability to find humor in another’s words for fear of connection , lennon lets themself feel safe with brenna , saying , ‘ it would certainly take take a certain level of self awareness to not post it ... ’ eyes rise up at the girls on stage and then back to the hazel difference of brenna’s . ‘ so i think we can definitely expect it all over the internet tomorrow . ’
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repentents:
the people you love don’t stay dead. in dreams, or disappearing behind a passing car when you're unsure it was them; they haunt. here, lodged between indistinct chatter that blurs the edges of the sharpness between them, two poltergeists decide to haunt each other not quite sure if the other is truly dead or alive. simply wading their way through the boundless purgatory of love and loss.
for once, weston wants to be tender and merciful. a thing that bleeds red rather than some thing that’s muzzled and chained — pacing the length of its cage. perpetually encircling a truth just out of arms reach. in his mind’s eye, his life begun and ended with new york. a man who built a foundation on dirty designer friends and splashy ‘chef’s to watch for’ write - ups. why did it take grief for a quick silver, spinning top of a man to consider slowing? it’s because always turning a new façade had proven tiring. it’s because weston is the kind of exhausted that has nothing to do with sleep.
a special sort of union now distanced the length of the dining table they were sat at — weston and lennon — one bound by summers spent painting painting morocco red, and whispered truths only known between them. so, even when unanticipated, having them in his acquaintance is an odd pleasure. he doesn’t mind how they brush him off; its a dance he’s memorized the steps to — and taught it to a few others. that avoidant attachment that always left him pleading for more when the most wasn’t enough to satiate him. lennon tried to love weston and he tried to let them. but at what point had too little proven to be too much? “ ‘least i could do, len. ” the nickname doesn’t feel entirely transfixed but he says it anyways. like atheists say ‘ oh god ’ when they don’t bother to look up. it’s like a hymn for the hymnless that says: oh, i’m cold — please love me tender!
because even if neither of them say it, weston isn’t fully able to release that feathered thing they call ‘ the past ’ from within his clutch. “ i owe you one, remember? ” time has a way of estranging people, but here, tucked between crowded tables during the saturday dinner rush, there’s a pang of familiarity. they know each other, but they don’t really. that’s a good, nice way of putting it. the consideration draws a seldom, wry smile at the edge of bearded lips. weston conjoins with an extension of his usual swill of choice, a whiskey sour. and when the waiter leaves them to their own devices, he starts up, but only after letting a break of silence still between them. “ y’look good kid — ” palm courses over bearded jaw in thought, leftward brow cresting upward to indicate interest as eyes waver over her. “ glad to see mr. spaddock and the schmucks aren’t running you out of town just yet. ”
everything about him feels foreign the moment there is no transaction tying their company together with a neat little bow . it is their first time seeing each other since their very - fake relationship ended their very - real friendship . there once was a time when lennon thought their longing for weston was enough to reignite a friendship , blame the mess they were in on industry antics . there had never been a relationship fake , real or otherwise that had left them unable to do so . until weston . you see , the chef was still up to his usual weston abbott tendencies at the time — and if they are being honest , lennon was too soft for all of it .
now , when len & kid are flipped around like different sides of the same coin , all lennon can do is nod with raised brow . kid might have been appropriate when lennon was in their early twenties , but now ? especially after all of the times they had voiced how much it irked their being ... lennon simply can’t bite their tongue . ‘ wow , you are still calling me that . ’ the blonde lowers hands from the table into their lap and sits back . perfect posture presented by stunning craftsmanship of six oh one’s chairs . the face lennon wears admits surprise and defeat and — maybe this will be easier than i thought . now , when len & kid are flipped around like different sides of the same coin , lennon will remember that all weston abbot is capable of is : loose change . and that man needed to do more than just some loose changing .
i owe you one , remember ? — this gets a chuckle out of lennon and the laughter makes it easier to let go of the resentment built by belittling names . kid . kid . kid . ‘ i can’t believe that you’re here , ’ lennon mumbles almost more to themself than to weston . a smile tugs on her lips as eyes meet his . it tugs on her chest , but you wouldn’t know it . ‘ i hate that you’re here . ’ a beat . an exhale . a thought . ‘ why don’t you look as surprised to see me ? ’
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davistwo:
in moments like this, recognition doesn’t feel like enough. the piecing together of blonde hair and blue eyes and an earthy cadence all mean something — something like relief but, in its truest form, swollen with lack. but there should, he feels without a single thought, be more. a bright light. a sub-earthly shudder. the wind, kicking up leaves around their feet, to give one final exhale and, at last, still. but there isn’t. the universe, in it’s magnitude, falls exhaustingly short.
at the same time, lamar readjusts the crutch beneath his arm and feels utterly, disappointingly human. a fact he hadn’t quite come to terms with yet. but still, a smile stutters too life against his mouth as he tries to stifle the memory of how whole he had been the last time they were together.
she holds the door open, but he forgets to move inside. ‘ still my name, last i checked, ’ lamar shrugs, head lilting. then his smile, already halfhearted, falls almost entirely. ‘ is lennon still yours ? or was that just … y’know. part of the game, too ? ’
a bigger person would leave without saying anything .
a bigger person would offer lamar help with his groceries .
spoiler alert : lennon harlow isn’t the bigger person .
‘ i should have let you struggle with the door — ’ the words come quicker than they should ; she lights up like a match on fire . ‘ lennon margaret harlow , if we are getting technical . i would hate not to pass your lie detector test . ’ a beat . ‘ nonna begged for me to be called margaret — or maggie — if they were so hell bent on two - syllables , but my dad got super attached to the name ... & not - at - all attached to the kid . ’
unapologetically , lennon decides to shut lamar up all in one fellow swoop , which is easy to do when getting vulnerable comes all at once . it isn’t a grand gesture of any sort . these are things lennon has already shared with lamar on couches in hotel lobbies , walking down hotel corridors , and everything that came later need not be disclosed . lennon steps closer with an intense gaze and insistent tone . ‘ i didn’t lie to you about a thing , ’ she says , like the entrance to a whole foods is the perfect place for hashing out old details .
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rebekahdunne:
It would be a wonder if the other woman didn’t feel the stares they’re getting burning a hole through her — because Rebekah certainly can. The bar patrons are trying to be subtle but they aren’t, and she can practically hear their whispers, she knows what they must be saying — what could Rebekah Dunne possibly be doing here? Truthfully, it all makes her want to sink into the walls of the lounge, the blonde’s very obvious attempt at flirting going right over her head as her discomfort in her surroundings grows. It makes the offer to get out of here and explore the bar’s wine cellar almost too tempting to pass up.
“I—” Green eyes shift from Lennon, to the darkness surrounding the crowded bar, to the nearly untouched martini that seems taunt her. Something glints in the corner of her vision, a shine that forces her to do a double take back at the other’s wrist as subtly as she possibly can. Rebekah knows she has all of about three seconds to decide if she wants to go with them, a trip that under ordinary circumstances would garner a no, thank you, but the sparkling gemstones pull her in and she can’t possibly leave now — not if she just saw what she thinks she saw. “Sure, that’d be wonderful.”
So she gets up, ready to follow the blonde anywhere she wants to take her — so long as it’s away from the general public and their prying eyes. Though, the woman’s last comment doesn’t go unnoticed. “My husband, ah.. passed away about a year ago.��� It isn’t said for pity, but Rebekah still catches herself recanting her husband’s fate in the same soft way she’s done for the last year. She braces herself for condolences, for the apologies and the ‘I had no idea’ that’s sure to come, and she quickly speaks up again once they’ve headed further toward the wine cellar in an attempt to change the subject. “I’m sorry, I completely failed to introduce myself. I’m Rebekah,” she gingerly holds a hand out for the taking, hoping to catch a glimpse of the bracelet adorning a slender wrist — the entire reason she’d agreed to come with them — again. Her eyes wander to it as the blonde reaches for her hand and Rebekah can’t help herself, her lips move before her mind can catch up. “That’s a beautiful bracelet.”
usually lennon is infatuated with affection , eyes boring a hole in lennon’s back being synonymous with respect . this particular attention , however , made lennon want to cower . if rebekah looks closely enough , perhaps she will notice . whatever flirty facade worn as usual armor extends only as far as top of the stairs . the truth is , the dunne woman coming in unannounced has lennon holding her breath . as they descend into the cellar now , lennon finally exhales .
after the last step , lennon does not jump into a tour of the wine cellar or begin an attempt at selling the most expensive bottle . instead , an apologetic smile accompanies lennon’s words — ‘ well , you are awake with his memory . that's a real fucking legacy . ’ maybe it sounds like lennon knows who she is talking to because it transitions into a rebekah dunne introduction . she wonders if all of the stories that precede the woman include her patience with strangers and thieves alike .
in that split second of rebekah’s hand outstretched , lennon tries to decide how to get around shaking that hand . they are considering a hand behind back removal into back pocket , perhaps reaching to shake it and take a step closer so that the closeness of chests might hide their hands altogether ... before lennon can make a decision , their hands are interlaced and the new course of action is to play it cool . deny . deny . deny .
that’s a beautiful bracelet. — the compliment makes blue eyes glance downward towards their shared grip as if to remember which piece they had put on today . ‘ oh , thank you . — i have been very fortunate to date men with exquisite taste . ’ lips tuck at the corners and lennon carries on as usual . their head gestures inwardly toward the cellar , eyes following there and back to with lilted smile . ‘ can i show you something ? ’
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nicrubio:
Bar Area at the Harvest Festival
@lenharlow
This was supposed to be a piece of cake, even if it was a crime of opportunity. He hated himself for feeling the need to perform this, especially since it wasn’t planned out. Something could always go wrong if it wasn’t premeditated in his case. But when he saw her purse, he figured that what was inside of it had to be worth something. You can take the klepto out of his usual hunting grounds but that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to strike when he was getting greedy.
It was risky, he knew that, and yet he couldn’t stop himself from moving towards her. He began to carefully move his sticky fingers towards her purse, sipping on a beer in the other hand, trying to remain inconspicuous as he made his move. And then he had no choice but to freeze. Fuck. “Thought you dropped something on the floor, I guess not.”
there is a temptation of innocence on one shoulder and the complete opposite on the other . there is always a chance that lennon is wrong , that their read on nic’s body language is misplaced . perhaps the bearded gentleman is simply that clumsy ... or he thought that it was his bag his hand was reaching into .
securing strap on shoulder , lennon eyes nic carefully . ‘ no ... i believe you’re the one who’s dropped something , nicolas rubio , ’ brooklyn accent rings pointedly , using the name they had read promptly & discreetly on the — ‘ does this belong to you ? ’ eyebrows furrow , blue eyes playing a game of innocence like a sticky - fingered schoolgirl outside of the lost and found . still , lennon is letting nicolas rubio in in some way . it is a different form of intimacy ... the intimacy of owning up to something , even if they haven’t outright said it .
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