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Post by VINCENT MARC BENOIT on Mar 27, 2011 21:52:02 GMT -7
  
Vince sighed and pulled a grey t-shirt over his head. His parents would be downright appalled to know that he was throwing a house warming party in jeans and a simple t-shirt. He checked himself out in the mirror and pushed his hair to the side, messing it up slightly, but that was the way he liked it.
Vince had had a long day, talking to adoption agency workers and his therapists about his drug habits had taken their toll. Tonight he was going to get shitty beyond all reason. If he got out of bed tomorrow, tonight would be a failure in his eyes. He walked to the bedside table and opened the drawer, making sure there were enough drugs in there for his liking. Coke, heroin, pot, you name it this kid had it, and he planned to use every bit of it. After tonight, he was done with the drugs and the parties. Especially if he got Elsie back.
Vince took a deep breath and forced a smile before leaving his bedroom, and he made his way toward the kitchen. His parents had sent him twice as much rent as he needed this month, plus he'd been working on the side for a back-up drummer and singer for some band. He'd spent three paychecks and the extra rent on booze. Vince reached into the cabinet and pulled out bottle after bottle of vodka, whiskey, cans of beer, wine, and other various types of liquor. Oh, tonight was going to be a ball. He'd invited everyone he'd met at the shows for before mentioned band, random people he'd met around town, and some few people he'd partied with a few towns away at a random bar. Needless to say, it was a lot of people.
He turned around and pulled three packs of red plastic cups out of a bag on the counter and stacked them neatly on the counter next to all the booze and smiled. He hadn't seen this much booze since the night he and Bree met. No, he couldn't think about Bree tonight. Vince picked up a bottle of jack and poured a red cup full to the brim, before chugging half of it quickly. He let out a sigh and made his way toward the living room as people started flooding in the door. "Hey guys, booze is on the counter," he said with a grin as his band mates turned on some music and high fived him quickly before starting to make their way to the kitchen with brown paper bags full of what Vince was sure their contribution of booze.
Thirty minutes passed and people were still flooding in. Apparently word had spread about his party. His band-mate Jared ran up behind him as he walked into the living room with his sixth cup of Jack and threw his arm around his shoulder. "Kick ass party man." Vince grinned and made his way to the couch next to the stereo where he could see everyone who was there. He took a long drink and leaned back, smiling as the music switched from some random song he'd never heard to his own band. Tonight was going to be good, he could feel it.
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Post by ESTELLE MARIE BENITO on Mar 28, 2011 19:51:48 GMT -7
 WORD COUNT: 693 NOTES: IT'LL GET BETTER!
Life had gotten to be this tasteless routine, same shit different day kind of thing, for Estelle. Wake up at noon, finish assignments for school, then drive to New York to the bakery where she was currently working. She had been jumping from job to job, and living a pretty sober lifestyle. It was monotonous. It was boring. It was so not how she planned her life to be when she was eighteen.
So when Estelle had heard about a mad house warming party going down from some mutual friends, the girl knew exactly what she was going to do that night. Estelle didn’t know the kid who was throwing it, he was new in town clearly, but this didn’t seem like an intimate get together with close friends’ kind of deal. It seemed pretty clear that the intent of the party was to get messed up on the alcohol and the music. Estelle had been so cut off from everything. Weed, alcohol and of course boys. The girl was hoping to at least make it to one of the bases, hell, getting out on the field was more than she had been doing lately. Maybe run into a guy and see where things went.
As soon as she walked through the door, it was crystal clear she was in the right place. The music was crashing out of the speakers like an ocean wave, and the alcohol was flowing like a river, or Niagara Falls, or whatever. Point was, there was a shitton of booze up for grabs. Joints were being passed around like the community toothbrush in a prison house. Puff, puff, pass. Everyone knew the drill. These were Estelle’s kind of people. Inhibitions out the door, good vibes all around. Estelle was looking mighty fierce in a halter dress, zip-up dress, and a pair of strappy heels. Her locks of hair were curled and fell onto her shoulders and back perfectly, like they were sculpted by Michelangelo. This was the first night Estelle had done anything interesting in weeks, of course she was going to look like a bombshell. Recognizing some faces from high school and the college, etc, she danced for a few. Then got wrapped into an intense game of beer pong. She happened to be those kinds of people who increased in skills as they got drunker. After two rounds, Estelle’s cheeks were pink and the room was spinning a bit.
Her and her partner had remained victorious and Estelle was moving from that buzzed feeling to tipsy. Backing up a little bit to do a victory dance, she realized that she had backed up right into a person. Sloppy, Estelle, real sloppy. she thought to herself. Also, if it wasn’t bad enough to literally back right up into someone, she managed to clumsily spill her drink on this person and herself simultaneously. Estelle wasn’t the type of party bitch to just keep doing what she was doing; she had to at least apologize. To her surprise, when she turned around, the person was actually a guy. A cute guy. Strike that, a babe. Estelle always blushed real easily so of course her cheeks were a rose-y pink.
Embarrassing. “Oh shit, I am so sorry.” She yelled a little bit louder than the music. The stereo was playing some song she had never heard before, and the bass was down low, rattling off the walls of the place. The guy was a lot taller than her, she was so short, she hoped he could hear her. She hadn’t wanted to literally run into a guy. “Can I get you a towel or something? I mean I’m sure the person who’s living here has one.” Really, what was a house party without a few spills? There was surely some kind of towel in the kitchen, or bathroom or something. To be honest Estelle wasn’t really worried about her clothes, they had been through a lot worse than a few beer drops, but maybe she’d get to talk to this guy for a little while. Of course spilling alcohol on someone wasn’t exactly the greatest start to a conversation.
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Post by VINCENT MARC BENOIT on Mar 28, 2011 20:10:38 GMT -7
Vince stood up and went to the kitchen, pouring himself another cup of jack and taking a few hits from one of his bandmates. Pot was great and alcohol was all well and good, but Vince needed something a little stronger. He chugged the last of his drink and turned to walk back to his bedroom where his own personal stash was, but then someone spilled their drink all down his shirt. "Fucking smooth," he cursed as he jumped back. Then he looked up and noticed that it was a girl who'd spilled her drink, the same girl he'd been watching kick ass at pong for about the past hour.
"No big deal, my party." He said with a grin as he took the cup of beer out of her hand and grabbed another cup off the beer pong table. Normally he'd call party foul, but she was cute and maybe just the type who partied hard. Looked like she'd already been hitting the pong table and bong pretty hard. "Come on, I'll get a towel," he mouthed, not feeling the need to shout. He grabbed her hand and pulled her down the hallway toward his bedroom and master bathroom.
Vince closed the door behind them and walked toward the bathroom to grab a towel. "Open the door if it makes you more comfortable," he said as he pulled his t-shirt over his head and walked back into the bedroom with a towel for the girl. "I'm Vincent Benoit, you can call me Vince. It's my party, my house." He babbled as he handed her the towel and grabbed another plain grey v-neck shirt out of the dresser drawer.
He pulled it over his head and smiled at the girl. He was pretty shitty, but tonight was only getting started. He sat on the edge of the bed and opened the dresser drawer, pulling out the small bag of coke. He dumped some onto the bedside table top before using a razor blade to make a few lines and a rolled up dollar bill to snort three lines before looking back over at the girl. "Pick your poison," he said with a grin, opening the drawer to reveal all the pain killers, heroin, coke, and pot lying inside.
"But if you aren't into that, that's all good too." He said pointing back toward the door. "Can always just rely on the booze, nice option too, I guess. This is bad for you anyway." He stuttered, feeling the coke kick in. He was happy tonight.
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Post by ESTELLE MARIE BENITO on Mar 28, 2011 21:19:23 GMT -7
WORD COUNT: 645 NOTES: SCANDALOUS, HAHA
This guy was impressive. And what luck. If Estelle was going to run into someone, she was glad it was the older, cute, host of the whole party. "Oh well, that definitely changes things." She smiled. The guy reached for her hand, and instead of pulling away, she let him have it. "Sure." If anyone knew where the towels were, it was probably the guy who lived here. Slowly the noises, laughs, music from the party faded away, and muffled as they got closer to the bedroom. His hands were warm and a bit calloused, but nice. Her brought her into the room and closed the door. Her eyebrows crinkled a little at the thought of closing the door.
"Doesn't matter to me." Estelle left it closed. She really didn't care at all. She had been in sketchier places with sketchier people. And how shrewd would it be just dry herself off and slip out? Extremely was the right answer. Besides this was getting interesting. This guy walked out of the bathroom and handed her the towel. Without his shirt on nonetheless. The beer wiped up pretty quickly,and it didn’t seem to stain anything much. Too bad she didn’t have an extra one to change into though. Hanging the towel off a chair in the room, she sat on the edge of his bed. Estelle had no problem making herself comfortable. He casually introduced himself.
"Estelle Benito." Estelle would usually just use her first name, but in her drunken state, she was really amused at the fact that 'Benoit' and 'Benito' used the same letters, only a little mixed around. After she consumed more alcohol, she'd probably end up mentioning that to him. Although she couldn't shake the fact that it sounded eerily familiar. The name should have ringed some bells in her head, she could have sworn she heard this name before, she just couldn't place her finger on it. But her mind quickly wandered to different things. That smile after he changed his shirt, damn. God, Estelle had to control herself and NOT throw this guy onto the bed and do whatever. She just met him; she couldn't be jumping any guns here. "I'd hope it's your house, or else you're jacking someone's shirt." It actually wouldn’t be the first time she would have seen that happen, but Estelle figured this guy was legit. And after he pulled out the bag of cocaine and revealed to her the buffet of narcotics, she was sure it was his place.
It was appealing as fuck, especially after watching him snort a few lines, but once again she held herself back. "Usually I'd oblige. But I just met you. What if it's laced? I bet you take all the girls who spill beer on you here." Estelle smirked and bit her lip just the tiniest bit. She was joking of course, but the alcohol was still just settling into her system and it had been so long since she had done any of that other shit. One of her eyebrows raised as he mentioned the last part. It almost sounded like a challenge in her ears. She had her go around with coke, and all that mess, and she certainly wasn’t that afraid to go back but she wanted to hold the reins right now. "Everything is bad for me. I like to take my chances."
Scooting closer to where Vince was on the bed, she smirked. "But, maybe if I got to know you a little better." She could have just gone in for the kill right now, then taken some bars, fixed her hair and joined the rest of the crowd just outside the door. But that would be too easy, and would have sucked all the fun in this golden opportunity. Well, whatever was happening Estelle was going to be calling the shots.
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Post by VINCENT MARC BENOIT on Mar 28, 2011 22:45:42 GMT -7
Vince shrugged when she said that it could be laced, then snorted the other three lines. "If I'd laced it, honey, I wouldn't be partaking." He said with a grin before dropping it all back into the bedside table drawer. "Get to know each other a little better, huh?" Vince noticed when she scooted over and laughed a little to himself. If he weren't so smashed he probably would've been a little more wary that she looked no older than seventeen, the same age he and Bree were when they had Elsie. No, no thoughts of Bree here tonight.
He stood up and wobbled his way to the mini fridge that stood in the corner, reaching in and pulling out a large bottle of bourbon. He twisted off the top and took a long swig, drinking away the incessant thoughts of her and the baby they'd lost to the adoption agency. "Well, I'm not from here. I'm from Orleans, France," He began quickly, letting his accent sink into place, not worrying about hiding it now. Usually it just got a lot of questions and heckling from others, but it was all part of the charm. "I'm twenty one; the music on the radio? That's me. Uh. . ."
Vince let his mind wander as he walked back over to the bed and sat down next to her. "I'm not always this smashed. I've been in rehab for a long, long time." He added quietly. He'd never just flat out told anyone that, unless it was absolutely necessary. The coke made his mind race and the bourbon fought to slow him down. "What about you, mademoiselle?" He asked with another large grin before taking another large swig and sitting the bottle down on the dresser.
Vince pushed a hand through his hair and tried to think rationally. She was younger. He didn't want to take advantage, but they were drunk and she was lovely. He sighed and pulled at his t-shirt, making himself feel as if he looked a little more presentable. He grabbed the bottle back and took another large drink, draining about a third of the bottle. "I'm sorry, would you like a drink? I mean, this is all I have in here, but I could go. . ." His voice faded as he pointed toward the kitchen and living room. Suddenly he didn't want to leave, the world was too loud, too hectic, too full of insanity.
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