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Makayla definitely didn't see that coming. She was expecting Ruby to ask her to do something silly, like limit her drinking, or practice positive thinking or something therapy related. Makayla stopped dead in her tracks when she realzied the request being made of her, and spun around so she was looking directly at Ruby, in an attempt to guage whether she was being serious or not. She clearly was being serious; this wasn't something that Makayla would have assumed Ruby would joke about, but was it bad that part of Makayla hoped that Ruby was joking? She liked Ruby a lot too, and in a perfect world, she absolutely would date her openly, but doing so right now just felt so unnecessarily complicated. Did they really need to put a label on it? It would be so annoying to explain to Holly, and what if things went wrong? They lived together, what would happen with that if something happened and they grew to despise each other? Maybe Makayla was unnecessarily scared, and she would admit that it was unfair to Ruby, but she had just hoped that they could live this way for a while before making any big steps, even if this wasn't as big as Makayla was making it out to be in her head. She wanted this too, but she was scared of the change that might possibly come with it. She had had so little stability in her life that she clung to every moment of it when she did have it.

Cara's sudden arrival couldn't have come at a worse time-or a better time. On one hand, she had interrupted a conversation that was about to become important, maybe even monumental in her relationship with Ruby. On the other hand, she had allowed Makayla the opportunity to escape answering right now. Again, unfair for Ruby maybe, but at least this wasn't Makayla's doing. She didn't really pay mind to what Cara was saying, as her tone alone suggested that she was being a cry baby over something. Even if Makayla often felt uncomfortable around Cara and found her to represent a lot that was wrong with the world, she didn't think that Cara was purposefully evil or anything. She was harmless for the most part. Delusional, privileged, spoiled, and ignorant, but in day to day interactions, mostly harmless. Plus, she had done enough good for Holly over the past couple of years that it was hard for Makayla to hate her as much as she could have if she only knew of her.

"Baby girl, we need to get you a drink. You can't be out here stressing over that kind of nonsense at your girl's party!" she exclaimed. If Makayla could comfort Holly in a state of complete distress after a moth she claimed was her pet flew away, she could muster enough god given strength to comfort Cara during one of her trivial meltdowns. It wasn't something she would have volunteered to do, but right now it was the out she needed to avoid the more uncomfortable situation she would have to face otherwise.​
 
Roman's response made Nick smirk, but he didn't push the subject. There was no need to, when Chanel's brother went ahead and did, and then a few seconds later, his look-alike arrived, addressing Nick soon after. He still didn't really pay much mind to Devon, the one who was commenting on Brooklyn being fine as hell. He didn't come across as threatening and, well, Brooklyn was fine as hell. While Nick obviously wasn't privy on guys seriously hitting on her, this didn't feel like a serious attempt at getting into her pants, at least not with any likelihood of it happening behind it, so if anything, Nick appreciated it. It would probably put Brooklyn in a good mood, as in her mind, it would serve as some sort of "reminder" to Nick of how lucky he was to have her. Admittedly, he was surprised that Brooklyn didn't seem too disturbed by the boy's offhand remark about Chanel having a crush on him. While it did bolster Nick's ego a tiny bit (even though he didn't think there was any truth behind it), he expected Brooklyn to take it out of context since she liked to do that. 'Growth', he thought to himself sarcastically, knowing that if he verbalized it she would probably smack him across the head.

The newly arrived brother addressed Nick then, asking him for drugs, which was right on par with where his mind currently was, but Cara suddenly spoke up and derailed that. Being high probably contributed to it, but he was confused on how they had went from a normal, chill conversation, to her accusing the three of them of being trash. What the fuck? He looked around in confusion, in a "am I missing something?" sort of way, glancing at the faces of the others to see if anyone seemed to understand what was going on. He vocalized the confusion when that didn't really help him, saying, "Bro, what the fuck just happened?" His tone didn't suggest true concern though, and he couldn't help but to chuckle once Cara was clearly gone and out of earshot. "She's a trip," he added, almost as if he thought she had been somewhat joking. Then, as if nothing had happened, he took out his phone and scrolled to the contacts section, before handing it to one of the boys. "I got you, what do you want? Put your number in and I'll go grab it for you and text you where I'm at when I have it," he stated casually. "I feel like she needs a line. Am I the only one who picked up the underlying message from what she said?" he said, kidding (but also serious, because he wasn't about to drop that idea to make a quick buck off her and her friends), as he looked to Roman and Brooklyn.​
 
When Chanel's brother referenced graduating in 2021, it was impossible then, for Brooklyn to resist rolling her eyes. It didn't come as a surprise, as she had pegged him to be a baby anyway, but kids at that age were so annoying and obnoxious, and this one was no difference. Most frequently than desired, groups of boys in their early twenties (usually celebrating their 21st) would show up to the club she worked at. Many of them did have money (and were often forced to pay exorbitant prices at the door to prove they had money since they were young enough to make the bouncers skeptical), but they weren't good clients. They were loud, rowdy, obnoxious, and couldn't hold their liquor. They had no respect for the rules or etiquette of a strip club, and Brooklyn always enjoyed the occasional happy endings to those stories, where a bouncer would "accidentally" knock one of them out cold in the process of throwing them out. Obviously alcohol made them more annoying, but it was something about boys that age that just seemed to give them limitless amounts of unjustifiable confidence.

Brooklyn had no interest in meeting Cara's friends, who she had probably encountered briefly a few times over the years before moving in, but she didn't have time to offer that before Cara snapped. Brooklyn had a reputation for being a ticking time bomb with a short and sometimes inexplicable temper, but clearly, she wasn't alone. Even Brooklyn wasn't sure what had been said within those few exchanges that had warranted Cara responding that way, but she also didn't feel inclined to pay it much mind. A billionaire thinking that your way of life was disgusting didn't really say much considering what "not trashy" probably meant in her head. Instead, Nick's confused reaction brought a small smile to Brooklyn's face, just because he was dumb and clueless. She didn't know what had happened any more than he did, but still, his reaction amused her to an extent. "No one's doing coke," she insisted with another eye roll, though she wasn't passionate in her declaration, and didn't object to Nick offering Chanel's brother his phone, even though part of her wanted to. "She was being 'nice and friendly until she realized you were over here," she said, referencing Cara's earlier description of herself as she looked to Roman with a knowing gaze (though there was no actual knowledge behind the look). "What'd you to make Barbie so mad?"​
 
Roman was visibly the least moved by Cara's reaction. It wasn't that he wasn't surprised, because he was; he was just surprised for a different reason. Her response was quite calm in his eyes, which was good if no other reason than it didn't make him feel any worse for being mean. If he knew what she was saying just a couple of feet away, he would have had a mildly different opinion. Even he wouldn't have predicted her to behave as she was, but that was also part of his expectation. Speaking of predictably unpredictable blondes: as Nick spoke with the boys, he rolled his eyes at Brooklyn. "You're just as crazy as she is, so you tell me."

Roman had half a mind to muse that he would take Nick up on his offer to Cara, but chose otherwise because he would only be half joking himself. He was always impressed with how Nick was on the clock no matter where they went. It wasn't surprising since that was his actual job, but it was more so the fact that he was always prepared for any situation. "How is it you're always so tightly wound when your boyfriend deals drugs for a living?" he asked, alluding back to her stating that no one was doing coke tonight. He couldn't recall a time when he heard Brooklyn actually encourage Nick to do what he does for a living, but then again his brain wasn't in the best state for long term memory recall. He would stand by his opinion and deem it fact. "You," he said as he condescendingly tapped her on the nose, "need to be helping your man move the goods so you can have that picket fence of yours and finally get out of my business." While he did think that Brooklyn would be perpetually unsatisfied since, like most girls, she was more interested in domesticating than Nick was, he would be surprised if they weren't the ones to move on in some form. Despite any and all differences, they were still together, whether for better or worse. It seemed that there was no cutting the wire with these two, so the impossible wouldn't be the end of anything. As the twins scurried off, he wondered what all they planned on requesting. Since they were so young, he underestimated what they would likely be looking for, clearly forgetting what all he was getting into at that age. He looked back over to Nick. "Did you really bring enough to clean up a group this big?"​
 
It wasn't that Cara felt any hatred towards Makayla, but she also didn't look to her as a friend. Even when Cara was doing a lot for her and Holly, she never really felt inclined to get to know Makayla, but at that point at least, it was also simply because of how quiet and private Makayla was. She wasn't curt or rude, but had always given off a reserved vibe, and that was okay, because Cara never even surmised that Makayla could be a friend to her. Her friendship with Holly was unexpected too, perhaps, but Holly filled multiple voids that Cara had had in her life at that point, so it worked. As time went on, there had been a few things here and there, especially in Disney, that had made her view Makayla in a lesser light, but by now, Cara didn't hold any animosity towards her on a conscious level. If Chanel's brother had asked how she felt about the girl, and she had enough alcohol in her, as she did now, that she would have told him that Makayla was uncivilized, irresponsible, and classless, but it wasn't an opinion that was reflected noticeably in the way that she treated Makayla, compared to how she had treated her before. Their relationship had been minimal, merely revolving around Holly with pleasantries exchanged when necessary, and that was how it still was to this day. It wasn't like Makayla didn't have her own opinions on Cara too, that probably weren't all that pleasant.

She knew better than to scrunch her nose up at Makayla talking to her like they were friends, but the uncertainty on how to respond probably reflected in her expression for a few seconds as she started to walk with them. It wouldn't have occurred to Cara that she had interrupted something, and even if it had been pointed out to her, she probably wouldn't have cared enough right now. When Cara was in victim-mode, a plane could fall out of the sky and she would still feel like she was who needed the attention and pity. Besides, of course Makayla was going to side with the trailer park trash when she was no better than them. Though she would accept the invitation for a drink, it was only because she was still insistent on the idea of Ruby taking care of her dirty work for her.

"I'm asking you very nicely to please go tell them to leave. Are you not able to even do one thing for me, Ruby? After I literally told everyone how great you were when you moved in? It would have taken like, three minutes max, for me to convince Holly that you were the devil, but did I do that? No. So you're welcome, and now you can repay me." She was clearly speaking only to Ruby now, not just through addressing her specifically, but also because she had clasped her hand around the girl's wrist as they walked. Surprisingly, it wasn't for balance assistance so much as it was, in Cara's mind, a way to signal that she was going to force Ruby to do this one way or another.

"I don't think Chanel would want anyone being kicked out of her party," Ruby said, inhaling deeply and resisting the urge to sigh dramatically as she glanced at Cara. She scanned the girl's face quickly, though she would have been able to guess that she was intoxicated even without doing that. The guess would have been based solely on the environment they were currently in, because Cara was enough of a drama queen sober that this easily could have been a sober outburst, too. She ignored Cara's self-important claims, mostly because they were really just silly enough that they didn't deserve a response, as she looked to the girl to add, "And doesn't Chanel smoke weed, anyway? I really don't think she would be that offended." Ruby assumed that weed was the drug Cara was claiming was being sold, but even if she had known it was the harder party drugs, she probably would have felt the same way.

"Really, Ruby? Did you seriously just call Chanel out of her name like that?" Clearly, Roman's comment had unleashed the moody side of Cara that was hard to turn off. Everything deserved offense being taken, and overreactions being given. Innocent comments, like Ruby's, could be twisted in a heartbeat, and it was a good thing that the party was so big, because had they been just a room away from Chanel, then Cara would have already been in her ear by now, informing her that Ruby called her a crack whore.

"Wh-- What? I'm just saying that I don't think you need to worry about it because I'm sure Chanel wouldn't care with how well the party is going otherwise. You really did a nice job at putting this together, and I'm sure there are a million people here who want to hang out with you, so why don't you just try to ignore the others for the night? It shouldn't be that hard with how big this is." Cara wouldn't pick up on it, but Ruby's voice was a little less comforting and patient as it normally would have been. She was annoyed at Cara for being dramatic and for interrupting her conversation with Makayla, and she was annoyed at Makayla for clearly using this as an opportunity to avoid their conversation. She didn't think that Makayla was doing it to be unkind, but it was hard not to take it personally when Ruby felt like she was opening herself up to this girl, only to not even get an answer. Even if Ruby did just want to tell Cara to fuck off, she obviously wasn't going to do that. It wasn't in her character, and she also now couldn't help but to feel concerned that Cara was going to do something impulsive and dramatic and create drama that Chanel would have to deal with at her own birthday party. In the same way that Ruby felt responsible for Holly in a social situation (when Makayla wasn't present), her having known Cara outside of the apartment made her feel like she was somehow responsible for her in relation to her behavior towards the apartment people (or at least her roommates, since she didn't know the others very well). Ruby also just had a nurturing inclination in her, so despite not wanting to take care of this situation, part of her felt like she needed to.

As they reached the bar, Ruby was surprisingly the first one to pipe up an order. "Six shots of tequila, please." Ruby wasn't even sure if her body would physically let her swallow a shot of tequila right now without gagging on it before it could even start sliding down her throat, but she damn sure needed to try, and she didn't think one would be enough. Ruby didn't like getting drunk because she just didn't enjoy the feeling that it brought most of the time. She liked being in control, and remembering what she did the next day. Right now though, even her better judgement was ready to take a nice vacation.​
 
Chanel's vivacity was intriguing, and even if some of it stemmed from just drunkenness, Elijah could already tell that she carried a cool vibe about herself. Even if she didn't directly state that she didn't have a boyfriend, and in fact, purposely skirted around the topic, he was pretty convinced that she was single. If her response didn't signal it, then the mere fact that there wasn't a dude glued to her side when she looked this good spoke to it on its own. Then again, sometimes it was the most attractive girls who somehow ended up with the most beat dudes who thought they were more valuable than the girl, and could somehow convince the girl of that too, so who knew. If it was the latter though, Elijah wasn't any more bothered by it than he was over the idea of her being single. By now he figured that Ruby was just here because of some connection to Cara, and even if she and Chanel were friends, it wasn't like he and Ruby were that close where he'd feel unforgivably bad if he had to knock a little sense into some bitch ass who was mad that Eli satisfied his girl better than he could. The benefits clearly outweighed the risks here; one look at Chanel verified that.

He shook his head in playful displeasure as she silently chastised him for not knowing it was her birthday when the man in the kitchen did, but he cracked a smile at all the shit talking she proceeded to do. "You're really gonna do me like that?!" he demanded with a look of jestful betrayal on his face. He didn't know that Chanel had only met the man yesterday, and if anything, he had reason to believe that she knew him much better than that. For someone to be throwing a huge party in your honor, he could only assume that she and Cara were best friends, and therefore, that it was likely that Chanel spent tons of time out here with Cara, and likely knew the people who worked for her quite well. It made him raise his guard every so slightly, because he didn't want to be too playful and cross any lines that would suggest to this man that he was trying to pray upon a girl who Eli assumed he knew pretty well and cared for. It wasn't like Chanel was too far gone to a point where she seemed like she was being set up for being taken advantage of anyway, but it was obviously a situation that he wanted to proactively avoid getting himself into anyway. "No way, my man. She's just been dragging my name through the mud all night, so don't even pay that line any mind," he answered with a laugh. "As long as it's not you doing the cooking, I'm sure it'll be good, so I'm not worried," he added more quietly as he nudged Chanel with his elbow.

As he looked around, he wasn't surprised by how nice the place was. He probably would have been surprised to find out that this was just a "staff kitchen", and that the house actually had another kitchen in it (that was probably just used for show, since he imagined that they probably had people like this cooking for them whenever they wanted to eat). He doubted they had this many people on staff at all times, since dealing with a small family didn't warrant the same sized staff as a huge party did, but still, even having a single person working for your family was a foreign concept to most. Elijah's parents had hired a biweekly cleaner for a few months when he was younger, but they had stopped it once his mother deemed that she didn't like having strangers in her home and that she could do a better job at cleaning anyway. "Is Caraline gonna have a search party out here looking for you in a few minutes?" While a boyfriend trying to fuck his shit up was Elijah's initial concern, he obviously wasn't trying to steal Chanel from her friends on her birthday either. She was the woman of the hour, and with the amount of people here, he was sure there were a lot of people she actually knew who wanted to hang out with her. He didn't feel bad about it though; he wasn't the type to relish in guilt rather than relishing in the excitement of the moment. Besides, he could tell that she wanted him just as much as he wanted her.

Interacting with: cure cure ​
 
Cara was really one of a kind. In reality, she was probably a carbon copy of many other grossly privileged people, but considering that she was the only billionaire Makayla had ever met, her level of privilege and behavior related to that still rang as being "one of a kind" worthy. Even after knowing her for a fair amount of time, the words that came out of her mouth never ceased to surprise Makayla. For the most part, she didn't directly see this side of Cara often. In fact, if one only knew Cara from how she behaved with Holly, they would probably be shocked to see how she was in a more neutral environment. Makayla rarely had reason to interact with Cara without her sister being in the picture, so she lucked out in that regard. With Holly, Cara was more gentle, soft-spoken, rational and level-headed than she seemed capable of in a moment like this. It was possible that she still said things that would make a normal person cringe, but she seemed capable of controlling it around Holly, if only because Holly had a tendency to repeat things she heard to an extent where Makayla was sure she would have heard some of them parroted by now. Makayla didn't think that Cara purposely turned her behavior on and off to make herself more or less annoying depending on who she was around, but it was interesting that she was capable of being more down to earth than she typically was, and yet it just wasn't how she opted to behavior more frequently. Even if it wasn't conscious, it happened, and though everyone probably was victim to doing that, behaving differently depending who they were with, it was more pronounced when it happened on opposite ends of the spectrum.

Nonetheless, Makayla was happy to just have to listen to the mildly entertaining conversation happening behind her without having to interject, because she knew she would struggle to be as gentle as Ruby was. It was no wonder that Ruby went into the profession that she did, because she truly did have a calming energy to her. She always seemed relaxed and warm, and Makayla knew from experience that she truly was the kind of person who would clear their plans just to help you, at a moment's notice. She was good at offering people advice, or even just a comforting presence. Makayla could respect that, because she didn't consider herself to be great with words. She was pretty quiet to begin with, and perhaps her energy was somewhat calming in itself too, but she wasn't the kind of person who would volunteer to help other people or offer her input without a blatant request for it. It wasn't that she didn't care about people, but more so that she didn't feel like she had enough of a grasp on her own problems to justify going out and trying to fix other people's. Over the past few months, Ruby had tried to get her to come out of her shell more emotionally, and since managing to convince Ruby to prescribe her Xanax, she felt compelled to give in every now and then and do so, even superficially, but it just wasn't who she was.

And that brought her to their current problem, which only felt like half of a problem right now, since the energy of the party somehow just made things feel lighter. It was like her brain already knew not to worry about it because it would have enough alcohol coursing through it soon enough that there would be no possible way to worry about it. Ruby ordering six shots surprised her enough to realize that maybe her response had been callous, even if it wasn't her fault that Cara had interrupted them. It was an excuse she wanted to believe to be valid, but deep down she knew that even if Cara hadn't interrupted them, her response would have been lame and unfair at best. Why was this so hard? Why was she making it so hard for herself?

"Six?" she said, her eyes widening as she looked to Ruby skeptically. "I hope that's three for Cara, two for me, and one for you, because I know there's no way you're taking two shots of tequila back to back. It takes you like two hours to finish a margarita, and you couldn't at least go for something like Fireball or one of those green tea shots?!" she asked teasingly, though she was serious in her doubts of Ruby's capabilities. Makayla had been drinking alcohol since she was young, maybe thirteen or fourteen, so by now, even the shittiest of liquors felt numbing more than they felt stomach-churning, but she didn't fault people for not being so accustomed to it. It just made them look healthier and smarter, in her opinion. Like they had their shit together and didn't need to destroy their body for relief. Then again, it was hard for her to really understand that a lot of people only drank for fun, since she had missed out on that phase in life, and even when she was drinking socially, part of the motive for her was still to forget about her life for a while.

She smiled, thanking the bartender who poured their drinks. "You really don't need to drink them," she inisted to Ruby, her smile more genuine now as she didn't want her to feel pressured or upset. The fact that Ruby clearly wanted to get drunk now made Makayla feel guilty because she did love Ruby and in a perfect world, dating would be easy, but part of her also felt like it was unrealistic, at least on her end. At the same time, listening to herself make excuses in her head made her feel even worse because there was no excuse or reason that could truly justify not wanting to be with this girl. The only "real" reason was that she was scared; scared of change, scared of things going bad, scared of losing a friend. She didn't want conflict or problems now that her life was finally beginning to stabilize in ways that it had never been stable before. The idea of ruining that was scary, and rightfully so! But at the same time, there was a lot of good that could come out of this too, and when would it be a good time? If not now, then when? "My answer is going to be 'yes' whether you hold up your end of the deal and get drunk with me, or not." She picked up one of the shots and added, "But it would be more fun if you did," before tossing it back, sucking on the lime for half a second, and then turning to kiss Ruby.​
 
It probably wasn't hard to guess that Cara didn't like it when her concerns weren't addressed immediately. She was accustomed to the type of life where she got her way most of the time, and where she could literally afford to have someone at least pretend to care about her most trivial of complaints and fix them for her. Since she was intoxicated now, it was a little bit harder for her to follow every single thing that was going on, but she still got the gist of it: that Ruby wasn't going to do what she wanted her to do. Kicking Roman, Brooklyn, and Nick out was something that Cara could do on her own, and it was something that she could have paid security do, but she didn't want to do it herself, and even she would consider the latter option to be a bit extreme. She wasn't trying to make a scene, even though they deserved it--she just wanted them gone. She wanted their night to end here, for them to be stripped of the ability of enjoying themselves anymore, and most specifically, for Roman to be as far away from her as possible. She didn't want to deal with running into him again, or even just merely knowing that he was floating around here somewhere, spreading god knows what STDs to Chanel's friends (since Cara's odd way of thinking suggested that it was laughable to even consider that any of her friends would go there... even though she had done so many times herself). Even though there was a fair chance that Brooklyn might just tell her to fuck off, Ruby was the most "adult" of their group, at least in Cara's eyes, and that meant that her word had to carry some sort of weight. It didn't resonate to Cara though, that it was probably really only herself, Holly, and Chanel who were actively in a situation where they had older people in their lives that they had to respect, and that that mindset may not have been as much of a priority to the others. Worst case scenario though, was that they did tell Ruby to fuck off, and Cara didn't see that as being too much of a deterring possibility.

She didn't like how Ruby's response felt dismissive, but she didn't really have time to react to it outside of a facial expression that clearly depicted her dissatisfaction because shots were being poured, and then Makayla and Ruby were making out. What. The. Fuck. The look on Cara's face changed to one of confusion and disgust, as she tried to piece together what was happening in front of her eyes. The fact that she was already in a mood didn't make the situation any better, and her brain was actively trying to push through the alcohol induced sluggishness to come up with some reason for why them doing this was disrespectful to her. She fell short, but still wanted to be offended by it. At the very least, it was offensively surprising. Neither Ruby nor Makayla seemed drunk enough to be acting wasted and making out with each other, she thought, simply assuming that this was an act similar to how in the past, she had kissed some of her girl friends when they were very, very gone, just because it seemed fun.

The only option that she felt like she had was to take her shots, though she nearly choked on the second one as her body attempted to reality check her into realizing that she didn't need to be drinking this much. She searched her brain for words again, still trying to rationalize how Makayla and Ruby kissing could be offensive to her, let alone how it just happened, but she was even less successful now, especially since they were still making out after what felt like ten minutes, but was probably closer to twenty or thirty seconds. With nothing to say, she could only slam her shot glasses down on the bar top in an attempt to signal her anger, before storming off.

Just before stumbling upon some of her own friends again, she texted Chanel.

To: Chanel
Omg we have an emergency. Where are you?​
 
Nick wasn't on board with Brooklyn's claim that no one was going to be doing coke. Maybe she wouldn't know anyone who would be doing said drug, but Nick had already received a few texts from subtly exchanging numbers with a few party goers, so sooner than later, he was going to have to head inside to grab his stuff and fulfill those orders. He hadn't been stupid enough to carry bricks of weed on him, but he had brought a pretty solid amount of stuff. It had been harder to bring a ton of weed in bud form, which was why he had opted to bring some flower, but mostly cartridges and edibles, since they were easier to transport due to the size and smell. He had brought a solid amount of cocaine though, which definitely was more risky legal-wise, but had a payoff that would be worth it among the Cara-crowd. The Chanel-crowd was probably just as likely to be into it, but Nick hadn't really been around Chanel's people enough to gauge what they were into (and what they were willing to pay for it).

Either way, carrying a long prison sentence worth of cocaine on him seemed worth it because of the nearly guaranteed payoff with these people, and because it was easier to transport without raising suspicion (from the police, but also from Brooklyn) due to it being odorless and smaller than weed. It was still an amount of drugs that he wouldn't casually carry around New York City, but this was the Hamptons. People who looked like Nick weren't on the top of the list to get stopped and searched in New York City as it was, but the idea of that happening out here was all the more unlikely, so it hadn't worried him. If anything, he was worried about Brooklyn coming across it all and laying into him for it. He could already hear her voice in his head nagging him about how "This is supposed to be a vacation! Is it impossible for you to not be bringing that shit around for even a few days?". He knew that she knew he had brought some stuff, but he had been as vigilant as possible to play it cool about just how much stuff he had brought just to avoid all of that. Roman was right though (even though Nick wasn't going to verbalize and risk her taking off her shoe and stabbing him with it)! He was making money! This was his job, and passing up on the opportunity to sell coke to a bunch of rich kids would have been idiotic.

"Nah, I didn't bring that much," he answered, though he flashed Roman a smirk that said otherwise a second later. "Just enough to keep stuff fun," he added. "You think I should find her and give her some anyway? The old Cara's in there somewhere, and that Cara wouldn't turn down a line," he insisted playfully, sipping the drink in his hand. He knew that Brooklyn probably wasn't enjoying so much Cara-centered conversation, even though he didn't think it was that deep, so he continued to say, "Let me just take care of a few things and meet up with you two in uh, ten minutes tops, all right?" he was already taking a few steps backwards then, not wanting it to be much of a conversation. Grinning, he looked to Roman to add, "Don't let her go a minute without a full glass in her hand, man. You know how she gets." A drunk Brooklyn was usually a happier Brooklyn, and once Nick made his money, he would commit to her going back to being the focus of his night, just as she had been for the first portion of the night.​
 
Having led them back the way they came so that they could take the elevator upstairs, she patiently waited for it to arrive. She crossed her arms across her body in response to Eli's question, her face theatrically unimpressed as she leaned against the wall and rolled her eyes. It was likely clear that she was acting in jest, but if it wasn't, the way in which her face softened into coy expression and she reached her hand out toward him eradicated any uncertainty. When he followed her gesture to close the gap between them, she pulled from the wall, and with her free hand tapped him on the nose—once for every word. "Why are you in such a rush?" she asked in a singsongy tone. Even though he didn't intend it, Chanel associated his question as a follow-up to his question about her potential boyfriend. Instead of him wondering that he wasn't hogging her from her own party, she instead thought he was asking in his own roundabout way how much time they had to enjoy themselves. The miscommunication was to the benefit to at least one of the parties, though, as Chanel maintained the close distance between them and giggled. Yup, she thought to herself. There are those shots.

The liquor binge from earlier could explain why her being so close to his face was funnier than it should have been, but it wasn't reason for her eyeing his lips for just a beat before cupping his face and kissing him. It was nothing miraculous. Just a short and light kiss that ended just as the elevator arrived. She smiled giddily smiled once the doors open, looking towards him for a moment as if the say 'An elevator! In the house!' "I swear, this never gets old. I feel like a little kid again."

On the way up, she realized she never explained where they were going. "I figured we could sit outside," she explained. "Smoking and eating grilled cheese on a beachfront view is exactly what I need right now." The elevators door opened and Chanel continued to lead the way. "Do you smoke?" It didn't take long for them to reach the bedroom she was staying in. She secretly thanked God that it was actually clean—not that she cleaned it herself. The only thing that could be considered out of place was the spare dress she had lying on the bed. There was still a good chance she would have an outfit change before the end of the night. "I guess if you wanted to stay in, it wouldn't change much," she said with a chuckle. The view was just as amazing from the window as it was from the downstairs patio.

"Ugh, damnit." As she scowled at the roach that was just a few hits from being done, she was conveniently reminded that she had been meaning to talk to Nick for this exact reason. "Okay, sooo kind of awkward," she announced before turning around to face him. She chewed the side of her lip and held up the disappointing joint. "My dealer is here, though, so it should be an easy fix." She went to where her phone lie on the nightstand, having been there for some time since it rendered itself useless once it decided to die on her. Cara's message wasn't immediately noticed simply because she had over a hundred unread messages and counting. She pulled up her conversation with Nick and sent a picture of the joint. "Oh. Could you grab the lighter? I think I left it in the bathroom."

To: Nick
😢​
 
These two boys couldn't be any more annoying than they already were, Brooklyn thought. She and Nick had been having a nice night up until now, at least. She couldn't place whether it was Cara or Chanel's annoying brother who had killed her vibe, but she was content with blaming them both. Nick running off to tend to his idiotic "clients" annoyed her further, but not to a point where she was going to demand he stay with them. It really wasn't worth fighting over, and even though his last little remark warranted a glare in his direction, it was kind of true. She had an unlimited amount of alcohol on standby, so as long as Roman didn't piss her off, she was probably going to be fine. Obviously "fine" wasn't the goal, and she wanted to get back into a good mood, but it would take at least a few more drinks for her to get back there, with or without Nick. On that note... it only took another long sip for her to finish her current drink before she was turning around to order another.

"Don't be misleading him that I need him to get that white picket fence life," she said to Roman once her new drink was in hand. She sipped on it, noting that it was a lot stronger than the last had been, but not being in a position where that warranted any complaints whatsoever. "Unlike the both of you, I have enough money to actually live a normal life," she commented. It was true that Brooklyn did have a lot of money saved up, but the fact that she was just starting college signaled that she also wasn't delusional, and knew that her line of work was one that she would age out of in a few years. She waitressed as well, but Brooklyn of all people knew that that wasn't a way to make a living. It was good side money for now since she liked to splurge on stuff she didn't need, but it definitely wasn't a part of her white picket fence plan. "And let's be real, out of the three of us, I'm definitely the most likely candidate to find someone who can give me this," she added, motioning to the property around them. She wasn't even referring to having hooked up with Collin, but just the idea that she felt she was most likely to attract a wealthy suitor. In fact, she was sure she could find someone here tonight if she really wanted to. She obviously didn't know that she had competition standing right in front of her, as Roman was messing around with the one girl who could literally give him this, but it was better that she didn't know that for more reasons than just the competitive aspect.

"Oh my god though," she said, switching gears almost immediately as her eyes followed a group of girls who she could already deem as being annoying, even from a distance. Even amid a loud party, they managed to be louder and screechier, and the way one of them stumbled in her heels had Brooklyn laughing. "Can you believe some of these people that she's friends with? I mean, I shouldn't have expected anything else given how annoying Chanel is, but like..." She shook her head as she sipped her drink again, a pleased smile remaining as she relished in just how idiotic most of the people here seemed. Maybe it spoke to Brooklyn's natural level of bitterness more than anything else, but it still amused her. "And her brother... can you imagine living with that? With both of them? I would kill myself. What do you think that Ruby girl's deal is? You're a doctor and yet you decide to live with roommates, nonetheless the two most annoying people on the planet? Bullshit." ​
 
As their food was being prepared, Chanel led Elijah out of the kitchen. He wasn't sure what the plan was, but he also wasn't going to object to it, no matter what it was, so it didn't seem like a necessary question to ask. He was going to be down for the ride until Chanel got sick of him, or her friends came and found her; whatever came first. Even though she accused him of rushing, and even though he did have one main motive for approaching her, it wasn't all he wanted. He wouldn't be upset if it was all he got, but he preferred the idea of getting to know her, at least a little bit. For one: this was her party that he was a guest at, secondly: she seemed cool, and lastly: he wanted to make sure that those shots actually weren't able to mess her up so badly that it would be wrong to get to that end goal. He didn't expect her to kiss him, even when she leaned in close to him, but he wasn't complaining when she did, and he didn't even throw the 'what's the rush' back in her face because damn those lips were soft! If the elevator hadn't been there to cockblock them, he probably would have tried to take it a bit father, but alas, that wasn't in the cards for now. That was okay though, as an added bonus to not rushing was that this house was gigantic and as she pointed out through her exclamation about feeling like a kid again, it wasn't every day that you got to see an elevator in a house. Though he wasn't expecting a tour, he could only imagine the other cool things the place had that you could only justify getting if you had an insane amount of money to blow.

The plan that she explained sounded good to him, and he confirmed that he liked to smoke. He wouldn't consider himself to be a stoner, but he did it socially and maybe once every other week or so when he was particularly stressed. At the very least, he did it enough that he wasn't worried about coughing up a lung on the first hit and making a fool out of himself, so there was that. As she revealed that she didn't actually have any weed left, he wanted to chide her playfully, but the way that she bit her lip, and just her face in general made him stumble over the words in his head for a second, and he missed the opportunity to say anything without it seeming like it took effort to come up with. Elijah was too smooth for that, but the grin that came to his face arrived naturally, and he didn't feel compelled to tease her anyway. Instead, he just offered an, "I got you," as he headed into the bathroom that was attached to the room. He took a second to check himself out in the mirror before grabbing the lighter off, and meeting her back in the room. "Damn, I bet that bathroom in itself is worth more than my parents' entire house," he joked. It wasn't anything spectacular relative to the entire house as a whole, but the entire house as a whole just carried that vibe of being ridiculously expensive. Even if it didn't seem like it warranted the price, you just knew that the paper towel holder cost forty grand, and the painting on the wall that could have been drawn by a 10 year old cost a couple million. He wasn't one to hate from outside the club though, so he was really just impressed by it all. "You got the hookup here," he said as he stepped over to her window and admired the view. "I thought I was doing my friend a favor by coming here," he said, as he stepped over to her, finding it impossible not to smile even as he wanted to be more serious and sensual. "But I definitely owe her the thanks now," he said before leaning in to kiss Chanel. Maybe this would warrant another comment about him trying to rush things, but he still wasn't. Was he tempted to push her onto the bed right then and there? Undoubtedly yes, but he had enough restraint in him to wait. That view looked pretty nice, and if he could get a grilled cheese, a nice view, and a supermodel in one night, then Ruby was going to get a written 'thank you' note sent to her in the mail for setting him up with the most perfect night ever.

"I thought I was special, getting to hang out with the birthday girl, but you telling me that you invited your drug dealer here just confirms that you're as friendly as I figured you were," he teased. "You personally Uber him out here from the city to join the personal chefs and all?" he inquired playfully. "And is he coming to deliver room service style, or are we supposed to go out and find him?" His tone didn't suggest whether he preferred one over the other, though if there was going to be a long wait until room service arrived, that bed was going to look more and more tempting as the minutes passed...


Interacting with: cure cure ​
 
Ruby was ready to attempt to get drunk, despite Makayla's teasing comments, but what happened next forced her to change course immediately. She hadn't even processed Makayla's words by the time that she kissed her, but by then, the words didn't even matter. Surprised was an understatement for how Ruby felt, but it was a good surprised. The kind that brought butterflies to your stomach, and made time freeze. It was corny and cliche, but it was really how the moment felt. When they separated, Ruby momentarily forgot that Cara had even been there a few seconds before. She just looked at Makayla with a mixture of awe, glee, and still a little bit of surprise. What had just happened had been lovely, but also the girl in front of her... it was surreal to think that someone could be so angelic looking, and just looking at her sometimes left her speechless, as it did now. Ruby never hated her own appearance, but compared to someone like Makayla, she was very plain Jane looking. It wasn't something that she would loathe or self-pity over, but rather, it merely allowed her to appreciate the girl standing beside her all the more. She felt so many different things right now, and that in itself felt cheesy, since it basically spoke to how inexperienced she was in actually feeling this way about someone. She had never actually wanted someone as badly as she had wanted Makayla, and especially knowing that she had reservations about it, Makayla kissing her in front of Cara of all people, made her feel so grateful. A kiss probably seemed like nothing in the grand scheme of things, but it meant a lot to her, because it validated the idea that maybe Makayla did like her as much as she liked her. Maybe Ruby wasn't about to get her heartbroken.

It was that same inexperienced part of Ruby that was literally half a second away from blurting out 'I love you' like a complete and utter moronic thirteen-year-old who had just had their first kiss, but thankfully, she caught herself. She still didn't know what to say, but at least she didn't say that. Just so that she wasn't standing there frozen like an idiot, she reached and took both of the shots she had ordered for herself. "You didn't--I didn't mean for you to feel like you had to do that in front of people we know and stuff, if you weren't ready," she tried to clarify, finding it hard to put words together in a cohesive way right now with how jittery she still felt. While she wanted their relationship to be an established relationship, where they were both on the same page with what it was, and it wasn't something that they actively had to hide anymore, she also understood that it could take time for it to be something that they were actively sharing with people. Makayla jumped the gun on that one, since Cara knowing basically meant everyone knew, but as long as Makayla was okay with that, Ruby was too. She wasn't comfortable with sharing her sexuality with her parents yet, which maybe made her the hypocrite in all of this, but that wasn't even something that was crossing her mind right now. "So, how do you do this? Isn't there supposed to be salt with it?" she said, looking down at the two shots in her hands. Makayla had taken her first one so easily, but Ruby was certain that hers wasn't going to go down as smoothly. Nonetheless, she was ready to hold up her end of the bargain. Even if she ended up feeling like shit tomorrow, it still would have been worth it.​
 
Roman didn't have much time to be flustered about Nick's joke since in the very next second he wound up stuck with Brooklyn. Once Nick disappeared into the crowd, Roman looked towards her. He held her gaze for a moment before scowling and rolling his eyes to the other direction. For him, it was quite an affectionate gesture. If he was really around someone he didn't want to be around, he would have simply walked away, manners be damned. Even though they went head to head a lot, it was really just a mutual language amongst the two. And even though it probably seemed like all they did was bicker and banter, Roman also enjoyed Brooklyn's company because he didn't really have to socialize. While he was quiet regardless, even he wasn't so socially inept that he knew louder, more talkative people were more socially acceptable. As was characteristic with anyone you knew well, that pressure ceased with Brooklyn, just as it did with Nick. Of course, she picked tonight to run her mouth like a broken motor. "Careful getting in the water with such a big head," he said once she hinted that inheriting a place like this was something she could easily and obviously do. "You'll sink straight to the bottom." This was why he went back and forth with her, because she constantly needed her bubble burst. It was always to no avail, and tonight was no different as she carried on.

He was also partially uninterested in what she was saying because he hadn't taken Nick's joke as lightly as he probably meant it. This was really just Roman's own ego coming into play because he knew Nick wasn't sleazy like that. It didn't stop him from taking his drink from the bar top to turn and peer over the crowd for his other favorite blonde. As he did—and begrudgingly for no other reason than the fact that he didn't like feeling like he was being soppy—he mentally reminded himself that he was officially done with blondes. The one next to him and the other one he'd just pissed off were more than his fair share. Now he was reconsidering that he took his earlier comments a little too far. But, he told himself, he wasn't totally at fault here either. It's not like he really meant it. If he was really that much of an asshole, he wouldn't care one way or another and wouldn't be being totally irrational right now. Irrational enough to send Cara a text asking where she was only moments after bragging about hurting feelings, and then even stupid enough to be taken by surprise at her matter-of-fact response:

From: Cara
go fuck yourself

The sound of glasses clanking behind him pulled him away from his thoughts and into Brooklyn's gossiping, which he was even more unimpressed with than her self-congratulatory comments from before. He set his alcohol down and clenched the air between them to demonstrate his frustration. "You are so annoying tonight. Isn't there, like, some girl code?" He didn't have any context to really explain what he meant, or to even know what he meant. He really had no idea what that phrase really was, and he didn't know well enough if it applied at all to talking about other girls. For his purposes, he would say it did simply because he didn't want to snicker at girls. "Go home if you're so miserable."

"Wait...Remind me...hoo invited you here again? Yeah, that's what i thought."

Neither party were aware of the miscommunication that happened. It was why Roman wasn't expecting any of his neighbors to be here, and why Nick figured Brooklyn had been the one to do so, even though Brooklyn didn't actually say anything to him at all about the party because he had said he was busy before she got the chance. So basically, she was a liar. His jaw dropped as he looked at her incredulously. "You're being serious," he scoffed. "How are you so delusional? You are such a liar! This is why the only way you connect with the other girls is by talking shit about them because you know they wouldn't want to actually be friends with you." Roman missed the awkward glance the bartender passed their way before awkwardly moving to the other side of the bar. Roman stuck his middle finger up at her, a gesture that, for him, was actually the equivalent of sticking out his tongue. "Stay here. I'll be right back."

He figured that she wasn't too far away, and given how soon it was before he found her, he was right. When he first spotted her, he really only registered her face and was then momentarily distracted from actually feeling a mild form of relief from spotting her. After that subsided, he went to being rightfully annoyed that she was being annoying. Here he was trying to look out for her—because that's what a 'where are you' text about bragging about hooking up with another girl means—and she was being stubborn yet again. Was her angry? No, but could he have been? After a second thought, he reasoned it unlikely because nowadays it took a lot more effort than before for Cara to actually do something that angered him. What didn't take a lot of effort to anger him was seeing some rando with their arm around Cara. He was collected enough by the time he approached them, and actually announced himself with a "Well, this is rich." His smile alongside his amusement as he passed a knowing look towards Cara, his gaze only darkening once it shifted to the guy beside her. He wasn't going to do anything crazy or territorial right off the bat. He didn't really have any base to be upset, for one, because it wasn't like this stray partygoer was being obviously inappropriate. Plus, the more he took in the sight, the more humored he became. Still, that didn't mean he tried to conceal the way in which he was obviously judging and taking in this new person. "Or quite the opposite, I suppose, since you didn't tell me tonight is apparently a charity event."

While a very large part of him wanted to find a reason to be aggressive to this guy, he knew from a single look that he wasn't worth it. He turned to Cara then. Once he did, he realized he didn't plan past this point. "I'm going to disregard that very mean text you sent me," he said. "Because I know it must embarrassing to be that much of a hypocrite. And instead, I'm going to ask you nicely to come talk with me."​
 
"I knooooow," she called in response to the bathroom being worth more than the both of them combined. As she checked her group chat with her brothers, she smiled faintly, offering another "I know." She sent what felt like her hundredth text this evening to ensure they were alive. "My parents would literally kill me if they knew about this." She continued listening to him speak, looking up from her phone when she noticed him moving over. Damn, he's smooth, she thought to herself after he pulled away. It took everything in her to not live text this to Cara or any of her other friends because she wanted to be a mature adult, but also was this seriously happening right now? Her moment of skepticism was quieted for no other reason than to purse her lips at Elijah. Chanel sat on the edge of the bed to take her shoes off, finally flopping back onto the mattress to cap off the relief she felt from getting out of those heels. "I'm still waiting to hear back, so I guess we'll see. He's staying here too, so he might have to come this way anyway. Speaking of, I don't know what it's going to take to convince you I'm not as boujie as you think I am." It was way too convoluted an explanation for why Nick, and not only Nick but everyone else, was here, so she would have to settle for her not having much to back her talk. "If this sorry ass joint doesn't tell you otherwise, I don't know what to tell you." Given how often she smoked, she really could spare to act so starved, but she liked weed enough that she refused to let any go to waste. Plus, what Nick gave her was good shit and so she was going to savor it for as long as it would last.

Sitting back up, she grabbed the joint that was and waved him over to light it. She was quite focused on the mission at hand, and it was a type of seriousness her friends always clowned her over. Sometimes she caught herself, like now, but unlike other times, she got flustered when she looked at Eli and wound bursting into laughter. "Stop judging me!" She accused him playfully, though sincerely. "This thing still has a few more passes in it," she said in an attempt to defend herself to nobody but herself. She slid over some to make space for him. Once she had her slightly extended turn, she passed it to him with a grin. "I'm a bad host," she said in reference to her not letting him take the first hit. "Let's stay up here until the food is here." She shuffled to the top of the bed so that when she laid down, she had the pillows beneath her. "I love parties. Anything with people, I love it. I love attend. I love hosting," she began. "But I think I've met my match tonight. It's kind of nice to just be away from everything." She twiddled her thumbs quietly, rocking her knees side to side. It was a very rare occurrence where Chanel had to do any kind of recharging. If she did, it was typically for doing too much of what she was doing now: being alone. She was the type who got her energy from being around other people. Calling it extroversion was the simple and correct descriptor, but for her it was deeper than that. She couldn't explain it as a kid, and still couldn't as an adult. People were just interesting, and fun, and enthusing. There was always some novelty, some un-had meaningful conversation. But that was also her problem: relying on people on people too much and as an avenue for depth. Her disposition was naturally cheery and warm, but upon deeper inspection, it really stemmed from something less comforting. There were people who got that fulfillment from within or from the external world. Whenever she tried to do it, she would just come up empty, and that was a scary thing for anyone. Being on her own made it more difficult to avoid that introspection. Tonight, though, she was able to just enjoy the stillness of room and the gentle hushing from the water. Of course, she wasn't totally alone either, she made sure to remind herself as she looked towards this stranger that she was having to remind her was a stranger. When he looked her way, she smiled.

"I have a bone to pick with you," she announced. "No one is perfect. Somehow, though, you seem to be and I'm here to crack the case. And don't be like 'Oh, what do you mean' either," she said, going into a mocking tone when she imitated him. "I mean, are you always this Nigerian Prince Charming or this an alternate persona you put on when you're out on the town? What's the catch with you?" She nudged him with her foot. "I mean, we're probably never going to see each other again, so it's not like it really matters, but I wanna make some fun of it. I'll make my assumptions, you correct them, and we'll go from there. Let's see...you are actually a playboy and you use that sweet smile of yours to disarm girls before ghosting them. Annddd you have a secret baby."​
 
For most of the night, Cara had been pacing herself. She really had been, and she wanted that on record! It hadn't been a blatant effort, necessarily, but she had been hanging out with her friends, having fun, and just drinking as the flow of time suggested to. She had been appropriately intoxicated based on the level of those around her, the time of the night, and the general energy of the party. Even though she had taken the first shots with Chanel and Devon, before she had even come across Roman, she would blame getting drunker than she should have on him. The two shots of tequila that had probably barely reached her stomach by now were his fault, at least.

What the hell was his problem? He was going to show up to her house uninvited and hook up with some dirty skank in front of her? And then brag about it?! Luckily for Ruby and Makayla, Cara had almost immediately forgotten about the anger and disgust she had felt towards them once they had left her line of sight. Her mind switched back over to the one person she felt didn't deserve another second of her time, and the fact that she was wasting her time thinking about him only made her more angry, but she couldn't help it. She was hung up on this still, and the alcohol was definitely making it worse. One second she was admitting to herself that she liked Roman, and the next, she was convincing herself that he was atrocious and that she had never liked him personally, just the idea of him. A moment later, she was brushing it all off as being a hate-fuck kind of situation, and the next, she was back to berating him for being such a disgusting man-whore who had no respect for her at all.

When she bumped into some of her friends, a different group than the ones she had been with earlier, she forced herself to put on a semi-happy expression. She conversed with them for a few minutes but found herself unable to follow their words at all. The alcohol only had a small part to do with it, as it was still mostly just her mind hyper-focusing on why Roman had to be such an ass and ruin her night. She excused herself from the group with the excuse that she had to go find the birthday girl, who she was looking for, but now with intentions of confirming that she was okay with Cara throwing out the apartment people, rather than sharing the news about Makayla assaulting Ruby. It wouldn't register to Cara that it wasn't something worth bothering Chanel with on her night, because now it was something that was truly bothering Cara to a point where she wouldn't be able to enjoy the night either. Her train of thought didn't directly tell her that if she couldn't have fun, no one could, but that was essentially where it went, after lots of twists and turns to rationalize it.

Logan had to give Cara props, because this party was lit. He didn't expect anything less from a Forrester, but his standards for parties, especially summer parties in the Hamptons, were high, and this one had already passed the bar, with the night still being young. How he ended up getting invited to the party was less clear than he made it out to the familiar faces who were surprised to see him here. No, Cara hadn't personally invited him, and no, he had no idea who Chanel was, but he had connections. If Logan Whitley had nothing else, he had connections. Luckily, that wasn't all he had, and he was the type of new money that liked to make a point of that. He had a trust fund, two Ferrarris, and enough designer clothes to fill two closets. His dad's self-made finance man money didn't compare to Cara's money, nor did it compare to the money of most of the people that he had spent his life trying to fit in with, but that didn't stop him from acting like he was the king of the world. No one needed to know that Logan had convinced a girl he had hooked up with recently to get her friend, who happened to be Cara's brother, to get his name added to the guest list. Logan wasn't above begging his way to popularity, but he wasn't trying to make that known. Nope, if anyone asked, Cara Forrester had delivered that invitation to him in person during one of the many dates he had taken her on.

He had shown up alone, but he knew enough people from having spent the past few years inviting (or essentially begging) them to come to the clubs with him since he liked to buy tables and bottle service every weekend in an attempt to make it known that he was cool, and to pick up girls. He had landed a few girls that way, though most of them went from being seven or eights out of ten to twos once morning came, and he had been unknowingly scammed out of a couple thousand dollars by a girl who claimed he had gotten her pregnant and demanded abortion money but in Logan's book, his tactics were an overall success. He really felt like people thought he was cool... like he was someone whose name people automatically knew just by looking at him. Even being dismissed by many people at tonight's party didn't serve as a reality check for him, and when he finally caught sight of the girl he had been looking to woo all night, he couldn't have approached her with more confidence than he did. He had a fair amount of cocaine in him by now, but even without it, he would have boldly approached Cara just the same.

"Damn, something must be wrong with my eyes, because I can't take them off you!" he said, feeling like that corny pickup line was the smoothest chain of words ever to have come out of someone's mouth. "It's been a minute, but I saw you last night in my dreams, so I haven't had to miss you that much," he continued, stepping in front of Cara and wrapping his arms around her to hug her. His hands might have copped a feel longer than they should have, in places they shouldn't have, but he was Logan Whitley so yeah, it was fine.

"I'm sorry, but who the fuck are you?" Compared to how Cara had responded to being greeted by someone she hadn't known just a little while ago with Eli, her change in mood was quite clearly represented in this exchange. Then again, Elijah hadn't grabbed her as if they were long lost lovers, so there was that too. She pushed him away from her, looking at him with complete bewilderment at the sheer audacity. He looked familiar, kind of, maybe?

"Oh, come on! I know you're not drunk enough to forget your best friend Logan Whitley. I was just talking to Danielle about those crazy nights we used to have at The Standard. Remember when I rented the entire top floor of rooms and we trashed the place? Good times, good times. Anyway, let me get you a drink. Let me guess: vodka cran? Tequila and soda?"

The expression on Cara's face didn't change even as his explanation made it click in her head that she did know him. Logan was the biggest tool in the world, and he was shameless about it. He was that annoying person who you could never shake, and that despite everyone making it clear that he was unwanted, he would somehow find a way to show up anyway. Back in their younger years everyone had used him because he was a breathing doormat. His own example about the hotel was a good one, where he had attempted to just invite a few "cool" people over, and Cara and co. had proceeded to invite a ton of other people, who inadvertently trashed the place and rumor has it, cost Logan's parents tens of thousands of dollars in damage. It had been a good time for Cara, but she couldn't imagine that it had been for him. Then again, she hadn't cared if it was back then, and she still didn't now. Even though he was beyond annoying, she had always viewed him as being pretty harmless. He was a loser and a wannabe, but not maliciously so as far as she knew, so even though she had no idea how he had gotten into this party, she wasn't going to put him on blast for it. Her head was starting to spin a little bit by now, and she had enough to worry about.

"Does this look like a disgusting sports bar to you?" she answered, shaking her head at the idiocy of his suggestion as she started walking towards a server with a tray of drinks. She wasn't sure which cocktail it was, but it certainly wasn't a well drink, so she accepted it, paying little mind to the boy who was still following beside her.

"So, what have you been up to these days? I tried to call you a bunch of times to see if you wanted to grab dinner but I must not have gotten your new number because it just goes to voicemail." Logan had grabbed a drink as well, seemingly unbothered by Cara's clear signs that she wasn't interested in talking to him.

God, he was relentless. Had he always been this bad? Cara stopped to look at him, and almost felt sorry for him. Only because she wanted another drink in her before deciding what to do about the situation she was currently in, she decided to humor him with conversation for a few minutes. It would be her charity act of the year. "No, it's the same number," she answered plainly, though she refrained from telling him that she had obviously blocked him. "I'm just trying to enjoy the summer," she continued, partially knowing that she had nothing worthwhile to brag about, and also knowing that she didn't want this loser knowing anything about her whereabouts. "What about you?" She didn't care, but formalities were formalities, and this drink was strong enough that she couldn't chug it even if she wanted to.

"Oh, you know, the usual. Working at my dad's firm, but really just chillaxing," he said with a grin. "Bought a new Ferrari a few weeks ago. I would take you for a ride in it, but some dick head rear ended me so it's in the shop. It's all good though, that baby will be good as new once I get her back. I can drive you back to the city in her, you just say the word and I'll be here, day or night."

"No thanks."

"So, you single?" he asked brazenly, holding up a finger to tell her to pause as he ran over to set his full drink down on a nearby table, before running back. A drink could wait; he needed both of his hands free now that he was going to really turn on the charm. He grinned as he returned, "Yeah, so, any lucky man in the picture? No ring on your finger, so that's a good sign," he said, chuckling. "Your friends keep telling me how good they think we'd be together, but I don't know--what do you think?" he asked, trying to sound impartial as he lied through his teeth.

"I'm focusing on myself right now," Cara answered, doing her best to remain polite, though that already wasn't her specialty. She was beginning to regret taking those two tequila shots, as she was already now feeling the effects of the ones from earlier piling onto the drinks she had consumed throughout the night. It was no longer the fun, good drunk feeling, but more of the spinning room one, and being angry and upset didn't make it any better. "Not really looking to date."

"Oh come onnnnn," Logan reasoned, wrapping an arm around her waist. "Give me one good reason why you won't give me a chance."

Cara had many more than one good reason to give him, but she didn't have an opportunity to sugar coat even one, because Roman had then appeared. Had he not gotten the message when she had texted him just a few minutes ago telling him to fuck off? Even the mere thought of him was irritating to her, so seeing him was the last thing that she wanted right now. It almost made Logan seem decent. "What could you possibly want to talk about?"

"Hey, buddy, you blind? Can't you see we're in the middle of something here? Why don't you head back over to Men's Warehouse where you rented that polyester clown suit you've got on, and give us some space? Sound doable, bud?"​
 
On the surface, Roman and Cara appeared to have shared dispositions—arrogant, condescending, judgmental—that could likely only be a result of mere coincidence and natural disposition. Genetics was only part of what made the person whole, though. Especially when compared to the others in the apartment, Roman had more in common with Cara than anyone else knew, especially in their upbringing. He was naturally a standoffish kind of person, but the way in which he quickly assigned someone a role even just seconds after meeting them, deeming them worthwhile or a waste of time, was learned and encouraged behavior. His childhood prodigy was only gasoline to the fire, and even now as the average adults virtually all childhood prodigies grew up to be, Roman still had no issue or qualm with thinking he was better than someone. Growing up thinking everyone around you was stupid was a hard habit to break, but it was a solid security blanket, and it made it so that he didn't need a reason to justify his beliefs. So while his mind was already made up before Logan opened his mouth, once the guy did speak, it provided all the justification that Roman would need if he ever sought it.

His jaw did clench and his breathing momentarily became more deliberate as he withheld from giving into impulse and just punching Logan in the face if for no other reason than he was annoying, but he did nothing else to acknowledge him. There was no reason to get worked up over someone who used the word 'bud' in a sentence the way he did. "It would be in your pauper's best interested to remain as forgettable as he did is stupid," Roman said in reference to Logan, but addressing Cara. Roman didn't plan to this part of his mission, and he might have left Cara alone under normal circumstances, but he wasn't going to just leave her now that he'd encountered this scene. She was obviously drunk, but he didn't think she looked that drunk to really entertain this guy who still thought to be a complete and total stranger. It being Cara made it more sensitive, but if this was any of the girls from the floor, his response would be the same. If it was one of the other girls, though, he probably wouldn't have bothered with his restraint. Logan having his arm around Cara was really his best defense right now. "I'm not leaving you here." he said a bit below his breath. He wasn't trying to be discrete, but given Logan was literally right there, and was therefore more in Roman's business than he cared for, he didn't have much choice. "So would you stop arguing with me for five seconds and just come with me?"

It could only have been Cara's luck that she ended up stuck between the two most annoying men at this party. Logan was just a complete joke, so much so that his words had already begun to just be registered in her brain as sounds, and not actual words, and Roman had no business trying to talk to her. They had spoken about last night this morning, and Cara felt like she had been the bigger person by brushing it off as a misunderstanding, them being on different pages. She felt like they had left it in a civil place, and though she was still upset and offended by it all, she wouldn't have still been so outwardly emotional over it had Roman decided not to rub salt into the wound. The fact that it bothered her spoke to how it was obviously something more than a misunderstanding, on her part, anyway. If the others had all known that she and Roman had whatever they had, then she could have been rightfully upset at him for saying those things because it would have made her publicly look like the fool. None of them had any reason to believe that Cara should care on any level about who Roman hooked up with, so it was clearly something internal that allowed the comments to make her irate. It was more than him just hooking up with someone at her house, or bragging about it in front of her--it was the idea that he was hooking up with anyone else at all. Of course the other factors made it sting worse, but what was upsetting her to even admit to herself was that she liked him (or, as she now wanted to insist, had liked him) enough that seeing him with someone else actually hurt her feelings.

"I honestly just want both of you to leave me alone," Cara answered, pulling away from Logan's hold as she started walking with no direction in mind, but just with the purpose of moving away from the two of them. The last thing she needed was them making a scene. Neither of them were people that she wanted to been seen with to begin with, but if they continued acting like the idiots they were, she didn't want to be associated with them in any caliber.

Logan scoffed at Roman's comments initially, but ended up laughing at the brainless buffoon standing before him. "Bro, what part of get lost don't you understand?" he asked, though Cara hadn't actually said that, and if anything, it had been directed at the both of them. "You heard my girl, she wants nothing to do with you so why don't you take your sorry, giraffe-neck looking self and go try and find someone who's actually in your league. I think I saw a couple grenades over by the pool who might be into you," he said, reaching into his pocket to grab a pack of gum. Tossing the pack at him, he added, "You can thank me later, or better yet, thank me now by fucking off," before turning to catch up with Cara, and grabbing her arm. "So, I was thinking you could give me a tour of the place. Show me what the living quarters of a queen look like. If you want me to get this punk tossed out first though, can do. Your wish is my command."

Hearing Cara's response made Roman sigh. Not in annoyance, but in exasperation. Upon hearing Logan speak, though... Roman looked in his direction finally and watched as the pack of gum Logan tossed his way hit his arm before falling to the ground. While he had beat Nick (to nothing really), it would appear that him coming this way was still the right move because instead of checking in to make sure Cara wasn't about to be strung out on coke, he instead had to come across that very person harassing her. Harassing was probably a bit extreme. At least until grabbed Cara to stop her. In one way, Roman was a hypocrite for getting riled up over Logan not listening to Cara because Roman himself didn't have any intention on just letting her saunter off. If he caught up to her and she very clearly cussed him out for not taking a hint, then he would be more likely to take a hint because he knew she still was sober enough to be a pain in his ass, as per usual. Still, Roman wasn't some random strung out person (anymore), and so Logan's response was, in Roman's mind, more inflammatory than if he did the same thing. Plus, he was now sick of trying to ignore this guy and all the touching was going to come to a cease.

He pushed Logan's arm away and then stood to face him so that his back was to Cara. "Put your hands on her again, and I'm going to break your fucking wrist." Roman didn't consider himself to be that threatening, even with the dark vibe and tattoos that tended to be seen as such. Yet, he still was under the assumption that when did start to get threatening that someone would know to take him seriously because Roman could actually back his words. Upon first glance, he didn't look like a former fighter, and that was something that still hadn't clicked for him. It was why he considered the conversation a done deal and turned back towards Cara.

Logan had followed after Cara despite her making it clear that she didn't want to be bothered, partially because that was just how he was, and partially because he also now had his ego involved with this wannabe loser stalking them. He had finally gotten to talk to Cara Forrester, and this lowlife wanted to interrupt that? Wanted to steal her? From Logan fucking Whitley?! Big, big mistake. Luckily for this kid, they were in a quieter area of the party, so not as many people were around to watch him get put to sleep. "You're like a fucking mosquito, dude. Buzzing in our ear nonstop when no one wants you around," Logan said, tensing up now that Roman had made it clear that he wanted to make this physical. Bring it on. Logan wasn't one to back down from a fight, no matter how many ER trips that attitude had brought him. "Let me take care of this," he said, attempting to play the protective hero as he moved his arm to push Cara back to "safety". The drugs in his system, his own cockiness, and his adrenaline made that push more of an actual shove than a gentle nudge, but he was literally too preoccupied with playing the macho man role now to even notice that he sent her falling backwards. Stepping towards Roman, he asserted, "You wanna go, we can fucking g--"

Roman was keen on continuing to ignore Logan as he walked away from what he thought was the end of the story. Even if he sought Cara out due to concern, and this guy was a total weirdo, he didn't actually feel the need to have his guard up in preparation for fight-or-flight mode. Sure, Logan was working his nerve and Roman was only exhibiting restraint due to Cara's presence, but even he knew that it didn't just benefit Logan. Beside him naturally being a chill person, he also didn't enjoy physical confrontation, and so he never tried seeking it out. He didn't need to prove himself, and if anything, preferred to distance himself from that part of his history as much as possible. While he was easily irritated, it was actually quite difficult to provoke him to physical force, and even harder for him to go into that mode he liked to avoid. His guard being down, everything that transpired seemed to happen pretty fast. Cara didn't get a chance to hit the ground before Roman's fist was connecting to Logan's face, and Roman didn't get a chance to process the force of his swing until it was too late.

His intention wasn't to knock Logan out cold, as what had happened was an anger-fueled knee jerk. Even if he was more forceful than he would have been had he not gone into autopilot, he would have still intended to proceed to beat Logan's ass. It was why he started towards the guy, and began to pull him up before he finally registered that Logan was limp. Roman rolled his eyes before letting Logan go onto his stomach. He didn't feel remorseful in the least, and was in fact annoyed that he didn't put up any fight (though that part was Roman's fault), but he also wasn't trying to commit manslaughter either.

Clenching and unclenching his fingers, he went over to Cara. Seeing her on the ground reignited his anger, but as he knelt down and his attention became more focused on her, he calmed. Slightly. He wasn't feeling tranquil by any means, but he at least wasn't fuming out the ears. "Son of a bitch," he grumbled as he helped her sit up. "Are you okay?"​
 
Maybe Cara should have expected this to happen, but she really wasn't processing a single word coming out of either of their mouth's. She didn't want to hear it, because she knew that she wasn't interested in anything that had to do with Logan, and she also knew that she didn't want to hear any more insults coming out of Roman's mouth. The same mouth that had probably been doing god knows what to that disgusting girl just last night. Nonetheless, when Logan grabbed her again, she was ready to punch him in the face for having the audacity to continuing to touch her with his filthy little hands. Things moved fast enough after that point that she wasn't even sure what happened to provoke Logan to shove her to the ground, just before his lifeless body fell beside her with a thud that made her sick to her stomach. He deserved it, and though she was horrified to see him sprawled out a few feet away lifelessly, she was even more horrified that her custom made Oscar de la Renta dress was now covered in a cocktail. She had braced her fall with her hands, so she had a few scrapes on the palms of them and on one of her elbows, but she didn't even realize that initially. The shock still had her paralyzed on the ground for a second, and even as Roman helped her to sit up, her initial concern was with her ruined dress, since the wet fabric against her chest felt more alarming than the numbness of her hands.

The only good thing about this all, was that it had happened far enough away from the main area of the party that there wasn't anyone area really to witness it. She would have been even more mortified had there been witnesses, and a big scene, and all of that. "I hate my life," she said, immediately breaking down in tears as she looked at her hands and noticed the small amount of blood trickling out of the scrape on her palm. Impulsively, she picked up the glass that was now empty but remained less broken than her own skin, and threw it at Logan's still lifeless head. "My dress is ruined, and the whole night is ruined," she cried, really just venting her own frustrations and not expecting Roman to have anything worthwhile to contribute. As he helped her to her feet, she looked down at her dress and became even more distressed seeing the stain. It really wasn't that bad, and it wasn't like she planned on re-wearing the dress ever again anyway, but even a sober Cara would have been upset over this. Add in the alcohol, and this reaction was inevitable. "And now I probably have a broken arm too," she said dramatically, looking at her scraped palms again.

While her verbal response was something that he could have anticipated, Cara's physical response was not. This was the second night in a row where he had her crying, and he was so taken off guard by her crying now that he wondered if he had done something. Was she really upset over Logan? He began to utter an apology before he words were interrupted by Cara chucking a glass at Logan. As if he hadn't just knocked someone unconscious, he was shocked at her reaction. Her going on to complain about her dress, though, was comforting in that it was a very Cara-like response that he could have anticipated, but still seeing how upset she was, even if the alcohol played a role, wasn't any fun for him. His immediate reaction was to figure out how to fix this, but it didn't seem like there was a quick instruction manual for this kind of situation. His stiffness, which could typically be explained largely by his personality, was instead from not knowing what to do next, and not wanting to make the wrong move and worsen the situation. He wanted to pull her in and just hold her, but the voice in the back of his head played a make believe scenario of her getting angry over that. While he had leaned into the hyperbolized version of what seemed to be Cara's expectations of him several moments ago, he found it virtually impossible to put on a front now.

As she looked at her palms, he placed his hand under hers and looked at her arm. "I don't think your arm is broken, Cara..." he explained gingerly, and in a further attempt to reassure her, simply said "You're fine. It's just a couple of scrapes. We'll get you cleaned up, and you'll be good as new." He managed to put his arm around her without any protest, but his attempt to wipe her tears was largely rejected. He figured it was him overstepping a boundary and not that Cara was actually thinking about her makeup. "Do you have another dress?" It was probably a stupid question, but it seemed the better choice out of the other things he was considering saying, like please stop crying. ​
 
Elijah sat down on the edge of her bed and laughed, before taking a long draw from the tiny roach in his hand. He pulled it away from his lips after a few seconds, and exhaled slowly. "If either of us are hiding something, it's you, Miss Suddenly-it's-my-birthday!" Elijah countered, looking at her with playful inquisition. "You claim you're one of us regular folk, and yet your birthday party is being thrown at what's probably the most expensive property on the island, by the daughter of a full on billionaire. That's number one. Then, you all around be acting sus about your relationship status, which I'm cool with, but now that you bring up Playboy, you've got me wondering if you've got some Hugh Hefner type of dude hooking you up with all of this. I don't have a secret baby, but I would bet that you are either actually a socialite or you're sleeping with Caraline's dad. Which one is it, and like you said, it doesn't really matter, so if it's the latter, just know that your secret's safe with me." He resisted the urge to chide her for speaking some secret baby into existence. That was probably most guys' nightmare, the idea that some one night stand, or even just a FWB situation, somehow turned into being roped into something more because of an unwanted child. Elijah took all of the precautions to ensure that that did not happen, but you could never be too careful. He had heard horror stories (that probably only really seemed to fall into the horror genre by the guys) of girls who decided to keep babies that never should have existed in the first place, and were products of hookups that never should have happened in the first place.

"Are you sure we're allowed to be smoking in here? I know this smell doesn't belong in a house like this, and I don't need you getting me thrown out before I even get to taste this grilled cheese," he asked, speaking lightly, but also minutely concerned in a more genuine way as he passed it back to her. He supposed that Chanel probably knew what she was doing, especially since she had obviously smoked in here before, but a house this big only meant that there was all the more room for the smell of weed to spread to, and it wasn't a smell that could be mistaken for anything else. While this was a party atmosphere, it was still hard to tell who was and wasn't okay with weed, especially being smoked indoors. As a black male, especially having grown up in a predominantly white environment, he was just trained to feel like if anyone was going to be blamed for something bad, it was going to be the black guy. It wasn't that he was frantically afraid, and his relaxed posture on the bed spoke to that , but it just seemed worth asking. Then again, considering she had just mentioned that her drug dealer was literally staying here with them, maybe it was a stupid question to ask all together.​
 
"Do I have another dress?" Cara scoffed, as if it was a stupid question. Her tone wasn't aggressive though, and rather, it was self-pitying and dramatic, as if the comment only reminded her of how upsetting the situation was. Obviously, this wasn't the biggest deal in the world. Maybe for Logan it was, but Cara had a few tiny scrapes and a stained dress. No one had seen her fall or spill her drink on herself, and she could literally go inside, put on a new outfit, fix her makeup, and be good as new. This was Cara though, so of course things weren't going to go as easily as that. She favored drama over logic in most situations, and with alcohol involved, that was all the more accurate. While her comment probably would have suggested that she was thinking 'of course I have another dress, stupid', it was actually intended as the opposite. Of course she did have another dress, and in fact, she had about five or six others in her closet that had literally been purchased as potential options for this specific event, but they were still in her closet for a reason, with that reason being that they weren't good enough. It really, really, really wasn't that deep, and had this never happened, she never would have thought much of the dress she was currently wearing, but now that she couldn't wear it anymore, suddenly it felt like it was the perfect dress. The only one worth wearing on the entire planet.

Though Logan deserved what he got, it probably spoke to both Cara and Roman's characters that they walked away from his limp body as if he wasn't still laying there, without a second thought (at least on Cara's part). She was sure that a staff member would come upon him in a few minutes and assume he had passed out of intoxication and stick him in a car to go back to whatever address was on his license, and that would be that. "No, I don't have another dress," she said as they headed towards the main house, sniffling as the waterworks slowly turned themselves off. She cradled the arm that she claimed was broken, as if it actually was, because her emotions had her convinced that it truly might have been, despite the scrapes literally being the only ailment she had. Still being completely serious and emotional, she looked to Roman then, and gave him a quick up and down look. "Did you really get that from Men's Warehouse?" she asked, before relinquishing the hold on her "broken" arm for just a second to wipe away a few tears.

Roman was not an emotional person by any means. It was both innate and internalized behavior. People generally did not like actually enjoy being closed off if for no other reason than the fact that humans are social creations that depend on connections. Roman didn't actually have as much of a hang up with it as most did. It wasn't necessarily his favorite aspect about him, but he was self-sufficient enough that he didn't feel starved of connections. He still didn't like showing emotions, and he also didn't like when others did too because he simply froze. And, while it was something he wouldn't ever admit, he did empathize with those he was close too. Seeing Cara upset, even if it was not that serious, did frustrate him because he didn't know what to do to immediately resolve it. As they approach the main house, he grappled with wanting to be more doting, but also not wanting to offer an ounce of emotional vulnerability, while also not wanting to push her away anymore than he already had by being too touchy. He was also frustrated because he was personalizing the incident almost as much as Cara was. He couldn't actually fathom that she was that upset over falling on the grass and having to change clothes, so perhaps that was why he himself made it into a bigger deal than it was, but he also was aware that he hadn't exactly been the best guest or friend either. Which was still not entirely his fault at all. While he felt tense, to anybody walking by, he was behaving as normally as anyone would when they were comforting an upset friend.

He was already looking at Cara when she began to eye him as he was about to apologize to her. His once sympathetic face fell into a mildly defensive one as he furrowed his brows in opposition to her clearly judgmental eyes. His face fell into a blank stare, his gait coming to a halt, and contemplated if she was actually being serious. When it was clear that she was very much asking a serious question, he didn't exactly know how to respond. He was completely dumbfounded. "Are you having me on right now?" he asked, although he already knew the answer to that. Nevertheless, he was amused. "You're having a bloody coming apart and you're judging me? No, it's not from Men's Warehouse." Though the actual story behind the suit wasn't really going to do him much favor either. His amusement showed through his tone. He was actually offended, it would certainly be more biting, though he still sounded matter-of-fact, and it was certainly a concerted effort. Even though Cara clearly was not that hurt if she could still be so silly, but he also knew better than to laugh in her face. The more he looked at her though, the more her sniffles became humorous. He pulled his lips in, trying to hide the smile that was forming.

Cara really didn't want to laugh because this was serious and she was in distress!!!, but a very, very small smile did momentarily appear on her face as Roman reacted to her innocent question about his outfit. She bit her lip in an attempt to hide it, though it was something of a struggle. "I'm not judging, it was just a question!" she defended herself half-heartedly, really attempting to muster up the energy to make it sound like he was wrong for accusing her of such a thing. However, just a beat later, she couldn't help but to add, "I mean, can we really blame him for thinking that, though? Next time, maybe you should just text me before you go out buying clothes and I'll help you avoid mistakes like this." In truth, there was absolutely nothing wrong with Roman's outfit, and had Logan not mentioned it, Cara never would have thought to pick him apart for that, but it was kind of funny now that she thought about it. Logan had caused more harm than good, but at least a few of his comments were now mildly amusing, if only because he was now knocked out and completely unable to do them anymore harm. "And of course my dress is the one that had to get ruined. I seriously don't know what I've done to deserve all of the bad karma I always have. It's really not fair," she said, opting to jump back into pitying herself after nearly tripping on what was probably just a pebble as they walked up the walkway towards the house. "Am I really this bad of a person when all I ever do is nice things for people?"​
 
Woooooow. As Elijah playfully dug into her, she placed her hand on her heart and pouted. She only changed form when he extended his hand towards her. "You smoking my weed and dragging me like this, and now I can't smoke in my own bedroom?" She cocked her head to the side and took a hit. "You can open the window, but don't think I didn't cop you changing the subject." In all fairness, he did have a point. Even with all of Chanel's insisting, she didn't really have much to back it. It wasn't even something that bothered her either. She wasn't sooo offended that someone wouldn't be able to tell she was just a random girl from Pennsylvania, but Eli's comments made her want to actually have him eat his words. She watched him for a second as she smoked, narrowing her eyes as she debated with herself. Chanel never had a problem with bringing her full and authentic self, but she also knew how guys perceived her, and after a while it was exhausting trying to combat it. Plus, tonight was her birthday, so any rules she would typically follow, she was providing exceptions. Her experience with men wasn't really one to write home about. It was one thing for guys to think you were pretty and to not be familiar with rejection because of it, but it was also another thing for those same guys to dehumanize you for it. It was a lot easier to just closet a part of herself and be that pretty face. While she did like Eli, and that coupled with the alcohol had her giddy and hopeful that he might be different simply because she wanted him to be, she was hesitant to really be real with him. He was basically saying he wanted to know about her, but in her mind, she knew the truth was that he was really only interested in that wealthy sugar baby he could hook up with and go back to his friends to brag about.

"When you came up to talk to me, did you do that just because you wanted to sleep with me?" She didn't ask in a way that would insinuate she was hoping for any particular answer, or that she was testing him. A question like that was hard to ask without it sounded like either of those were the case though. If anything, she was more curious about whether he would lie to her because as far she was concerned, she had already made up her mind on what the truth was.

He would probably jokingly be like: "I mean technically you were just blocking the bar that I was trying to order at, sooooo...." Smirking, he softened his expression just a tad as he admitted, "I mean, when you put it that way it sounds bad! But I definitely came up to you because you were probably the most beautiful girl I've ever seen, no lie, and I'm not just saying that to boost your ego because clearly you don't need me to do that." The fact that she just assumed he wanted to sleep with her, even right now, was something he would playfully spin as her thinking too highly of herself, even though it was clearly accurate.

Chanel couldn't resist the smirk that grew from cheek to cheek. She rolled her eyes and shook her head. "Don't butter me up! I already knew the answer, but..." She shrugged her shoulders and looked towards the ceiling, trying to ponder for herself what came next in that sentence. Pulling herself from the pillow she rest on, she pivoted so that she was stretched across the width of the bed. Now that she was actually right beside him, she handed him the roach after a final draw. "That's pretty much always the case, and I don't know. At least with the guys I've run into, they think they want a pretty girl with a great personality and all of this, and that's not the case. They just see me and think they like me, but they're really only infatuated with how I look and what kind of girl they think comes with that. Which is basically what you described when you so rudely called me out!" Chanel pushed him playfully. "So not to discount you or make the conversation weird, but I think the boogie rich girl is more what you're looking for than the girl that's underneath all the makeup and party lights. Eeeeven if you don't think that's true. No one ever does."

Chanel stretched her arms out and rolled onto her back. She dangled her arms over her head until they were hanging over the bed. "Which is totally fine by the way. I'm not really interested in being myself tonight either, which is why I decided to lower my standards and abandon my sugar daddy just to entertain you. I fully plan on having the help escort you off the premises before sundown." She didn't realize how drunk she was because she didn't even realize how loose lipped she was being. It probably just seemed in line with her already obviously forthcoming personality, but the experience she was speaking from didn't come without battle scars that she liked to ignore. A part of her knew that if she remembered this conversation tomorrow morning she would absolutely cringe, but she still didn't really care because as far as she was concerned, she would never see him again. So if she had someone who was a complete and total stranger that she wouldn't see again, she could afford to be a bit more open than she typically would because for once she wasn't putting on appearances. "And don't get it twisted either. Just because I said all that doesn't mean I actually care what you think of me. It just means I find you interesting enough to want to entertain your company and I don't want to cut that short by revealing that I'm basically Cinderella before the clock strikes twelve."​
 
Once she fell out of character and it was clear that she actually was okay, Roman figured she didn't need to be coddled or held onto. Once she stumbled on...air?...he reconsidered his assumption. He took hold of her arm, looked at the ground to see what exactly she tripped over, and upon taking note of the shoes she was wearing, wondered how she hadn't been falling all night. "Well first of all, I don't know if you're too drunk to recall considering you're falling over your own feet," he said, fully exaggerating just as she had been doing this whole time and for which he had laughed at her. "But the last time I did that, you kindly told me to fuck off." He held the door open and followed in behind her. "And no," he said, this time a bit more serious, though he did sound like he was responding to a super obvious question. "You aren't a bad person. You're just entirely melodramatic and lack some self-awareness, that's all." When they began to wait for the elevator, he took her arm to look at her scrapes. "I mean a broken arm, Cara? Really?" He chuckled beneath his breath and shook his head. "Do you even know if you have a first aid kit?" Before she got a chance to answer, he turned towards the steps that were coming from the down the hallway. Someone was coming from the kitchen with hot food. "Oh, lovely. See? Would a bad person have such good luck?"

"Really, Roman?" Cara looked at him in a slightly annoyed fashion, though it was admittedly more mellowed out than it may have been any other day, simply because she was showing some amount of self-awareness right now, and even if it was unspoken, she did appreciate his help after that shove. "A first-aid kit for this?" She literally probably just needed to wash her hand under warm water as the bleeding had essentially stopped by now, but he was right about the melodramatic part. "Text your friends and tell them to find Ruby for me." Yes, this definitely required a doctor's evaluation. A doctor who didn't even work with physical injuries, but whatever. That wasn't the point. The point was that Cara needed attention and she needed it now.

At Roman's last comments, she disassociated with her pity party momentarily to realize that someone from the kitchen was heading down the same hallway as them. She had no reason to believe that the food was for them, but she also had no reason to believe that it wasn't for them, since she didn't suspect that anyone else was up here right now. "We'll just take it," she said, nodding to Roman to take whatever the man had, seemingly doing him a favor rather than having him bring it all the way down to her room. "And we need water, please. Ice cold. Literally, ice cold," she said, cutting him off before he could even attempt to politely explain that the food was for someone else. She didn't give him a moment to explain after the request either, as she turned back, cradling her bad arm once again, and continued towards her room. "That was nice of them. What is it?" she said in a surprisingly cheerful tone given her current mood, as she peered over at the plates of sandwiches.

"Grilled cheese." Cara's reaction was cute, but not unwarranted: it smelled great. Either he didn't realize how hungry he was or his appetite just came in full force, but he was definitely ready to eat this. He looked over to her and pulled the plates away from her slightly. "These are for me. Your fragile condition requires you be on a strict liquids-only diet. You'll need it for all the fake tears you shed."

“Or maybe for all the blood I lost,” Cara commented with a frown, examining her hands again. Even she wasn’t so delusional as to think it was that serious, but she was delusional enough to still think it warranted an evaluation and energy. At least it was distracting her from her ruined dress for the moment, which probably would have seemed more frivolous to be complaining about.

Once they reached Cara’s room, she immediately continued into her bathroom. “And of course it’s my right hand, too. How am I supposed to hold a pencil now?” she complained, though she couldn’t remember the last time she had held a pencil, so there was no logical reason to be concerned about that. “Ow, oh my god, it really hurts. Is Ruby on her way?” she called out to Roman after attempting to wash her hands off, and reacting sensitively to the minor stinging that came with that. “Do you think Chanel’s having fun? I have to check on her in a min.”

Roman sat the grilled cheese down and took a bite while Cara went into the bathroom. As she continued to insist that he treat her as though she'd just lost a limb, he shook his head and rolled his head yet again, but not without an amused grin. "Why wouldn't she be?" He walked towards the bathroom and leaned in the doorframe. "It's a great party. You're a good friend. Can be," he corrected. "a good friend."

It was actually nice to see that she was okay, even if her hysterics from before were really just her focusing on the wrong things. Still, he didn't like seeing her like this. It made him wish he'd punched Logan a lot sooner. He looked down at his hand and wiggled his fingers some. It had been some time since they looked like this. Now that he wasn't distracted and the adrenaline had gone, he could feel the nostalgic soreness settling in. "You're really something else, you know that?" It was hard for a statement like that to ever be misplaced when it was being used in reference to Cara, but it still wasn't what he was trying to say. Her being so upset one second and then reminding you that she was still her normal self was good enough reason for him to say what he did, but it was also the fact that she had him worried for a different reason and it was hilariously thrown in his face, albeit unintentionally. "You had me freaking out, thinking you were crying because I scared you, or hurt you, or... But it was just you being you," he said, unable to sound annoyed by the statement. He felt quite the opposite when saying it. "But I'm sorry. About this weekend, and most importantly, your dress."

He pulled away from the doorframe, turning to go back into the bedroom. He picked up the grilled cheese from the plate and took another bite. "And you know I don't have Ruby's number, right? I mean, even if I did, I wouldn't call her. You'll just have to learn how to write with your left hand, I'm afraid."​
 
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“That’s why I asked you to ask your friends to be helpful for one minute of their lives and go find her,” Cara sighed, opting to respond to that before addressing the words that had come right before that. His reassurance that Chanel was probably having a good time was comforting (even though if she spent more time thinking about it, she would have determined that Chanel’s version of a good time and his differed enough that his word meant little). She really did hope that her friend was enjoying herself though, because she deserved a nice night.

She took a few moments to finish washing her hands off before pulling open some drawers to collect makeup to fix her face. In her mind, it was utterly destroyed, something that she couldn’t fix or come back from, but she supposed that she had to try. Instead of trying right away though, she then decided that the bigger thing killing her mood right now was the dress. That had to go. It would have been more sensible to ask Roman to help her take it off, but since she had already declared that it was ruined, she didn’t hesitate to twist and pull it to a point where she could hear threads being pulled until it slipped off of her thin frame. “You did hurt me, but that’s not the point,” she said, speaking to him despite still being in the bathroom, focused on herself. “Because at this point, it’s whatever. It’s fine.” She wasn’t really sure what that meant either, but the confirmation that he had hurt her was referencing his words earlier tonight, and actions of yesterday, and not from the altercation that had just occurred. While it felt necessary to touch on, it wasn’t something that she wanted to elaborate on. Her mood was just beginning to level out, and she didn’t want to start crying again.

“You could have just let me know that you were coming though,” she commented, as she left the bathroom, walking past him to the other side of the room where her closet was. Considering that Roman has seen her naked before, she didn’t think twice about only being in underwear. “Instead of being the weirdo who just showed up with no warning, especially after you shut me down when I tried to invite you in the first place.” She wasn’t speaking angrily, but more so in a matter-of-fact sort of way, because she didn’t have any facts to suggest that it wasn’t just him acting without etiquette. “It’s not like I like your friends, and them being here wasn’t a problem, so I don’t know why you had to be weird about it,” she continued, as she tossed a few possible contenders onto the island into her closet for consideration. Still searching, she continued, “But none of it is really a big deal. I honestly have bigger things to worry about, and I appreciate you getting rid of that idiot for me.” Her broken arm, being one of them. “Do you want her to look at your hand? Do you think it’s broken, too?” she called out, surprisingly showing a bit of concern for someone beyond herself as she considered that some of his fingers might be broken. That was a thing after throwing punches, right? She could still hear the sound of contact when Roman’s knuckles met Logan’s hollow, hollow head, and it had to have hurt both of them.​
 
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Roman figured that if he hung around any longer he was overstaying his welcome. He wasn't going to reach out to Ruby, namely because it was unnecessary, but it made sense to at least contact Chanel so that someone could take care of Cara while she was seemingly one step in the grave. Plus, he didn't think he had anything left to say. Granted, there was a dozen thoughts racing about his brain, and each one he played out his mind just ended up horribly. He paused mid-bite when Cara mentioned that simply informing her of his presence would have sufficed. He wrinkled his nose as she continued on, knowing that while he didn't really remember what excuse he gave her last night, it surely wasn't so unfathomable that she would still be going on about twenty-four hours later. And she had the nerve to do it while barely dressed! This girl lived to mess with his mind. "I told you that I'm not getting Ruby," he said. If anyone did need to be checked out, though, it was probably him. His hand was fine, but he had also had enough concussions that he ended up stop going for a formal diagnosis, and bruised ribs and hurts hands were no different. If a broken anything was on the table after tonight, he would have been a strong contender for it, but his bones were still in tact. He was probably the one who needed to be concerned about his dominant hand being hurt, but a minor injury like this had lost had meaning to him a while ago, especially when compared to the others things he'd recovered from.

"Why are you so intent on nothing believing anything I say to you?" He was in the closet now, choosing to repeat the conversation from earlier this morning and the previous night instead of just letting it go. "You don't have to be sleeping with me to know that I would never actually choose to be at a stupid event like yesterday when I could be either by myself or with someone I actually like." Cara hadn't ever stated what she planned to invite him to. In retrospect, she would have been inviting him to this, and if she had done that and he wasn't already going to be here, he would have gone, and that wasn't what he said just now. He shook his head as though it would clear the jumble from his heard and straighten his thoughts, make him any less incoherent than he felt he was being. "I mean it's not that I don't like you. I mean if you weren't going to be here and it was either or that stupid party, I would rather hang out with you obviously, but even if you did invite me—which you didn't, by the way—I still would have come." That didn't make any sense either, did it? He cupped his face and grumbled, fully frustrated and just as completely embarrassed. When he dropped his hands to his hand, he craned his neck towards the ceiling, thinking that maybe if he stared at the ceiling long enough he would just disappear.

"I told you what happened, Cara, and you refuse to believe me. Why would you think I'm that much of an asshole to go out of my way to lie to you when I've been open about everything else? I've talked to you about things I haven't even talked about with Brooke or Nick and you'll completely disregard it over one misunderstanding?" Roman's voice caught in his throat for a moment. He was getting ahead of himself. He clenched his teeth together then and cast his gaze to the side, let out a sigh. "You don't believe me when I try to be good, try to show you that I care about you. Then you resign me to the bad guy, so I act like the bad guy, and you're still not happy. You're so determined to be the victim in every single narrative, you don't care who you hurt in the process."​
 
It felt weird walking into Cara's house as if he belonged there, because despite having slept there for one night already, he definitely still didn't feel like he did belong there. It was a magnificent house, easily the largest and nicest one that Nick had ever been in in his life. What made it ever more foreign seeming was that it didn't give you that homey feeling that most houses did. There was no way to tell that real people actually lived here by how meticulous everything was arranged and maintained. Plus, the fact that people worked here made it even more unusual seeming. Even though it was really cool, and something he wouldn't pass up if he had the money to do it, he wasn't sure that he would be able to get used to people being in his house 24/7. Even if their sole purpose was to make his life easier, he figured that it would probably weird him out, at least for a while.

The main house was pretty silent compared to the guest house and the outdoors area, making Nick feel even more out of place as he quietly made his way inside. He supposed that Cara must have informed the staff who was and wasn't staying there, as no one seemed perturbed by his entrance, and instead, he was just met with a few small smiles from people in passing. He had missed Chanel and Elijah by just a few minutes on one end, and Roman and Cara by a few on the other, but it was probably for the best that he hadn't seen any of them, because he actually needed to focus right now. He easily had a couple of thousand dollars waiting for him if he could knock this out quickly, and he was sure that once things started circulating, word of mouth would double that, at least. Part of him considered being a good boyfriend and just doing this, and then stopping, but Nick knew himself too well. If there was money to be made, he was going to make it. This entire trip would be paid off, and hell, maybe he could splurge a little and make Brooklyn feel rich by paying for one of those helicopter rides back to the city like all the rich people did. How expensive could they really be? Either way, he figured that at the end of the day, she would thank him for doing all of this. He wasn't going to bring it up now and actually have himself tied down to the idea it, but maybe they'd be able to swing another trip this summer. He didn't know if she would be able to be convinced into it, but the idea of roadtripping up to the mountains and being able to get high and sleep out under the stars had always sounded pretty cool to him.

He rummaged through his bag, finding a smaller bag at the bottom of it, and pulled that out. Under a few wrapped layers was a pair of shoes that were stuffed tight with large bags that had lots of smaller bags within. He dumped them out onto the bed, making small piles of who was getting what, before carefully putting the remaining ones back where they came from. He didn't see Chanel's text until he had already finished that and was beginning to text tonight's clients back, but it wasn't a big deal, because he had his own stuff stored in a much more accessible place. He finished texting the people whose stuff he had, telling them to meet him over by the tennis courts in ten minutes, and then rolled Chanel a joint of his best stuff. He grabbed a bunch of the edibles he had brought for her too, a blackout brownie, some chocolate bars, and gummies, and left them on his bed.

As he headed out with a bag of the stuff he was able to sell, he sent her a text saying:

To: Chanel
I got you. Just left some stuff on my bed for u. Ur bday gift from me and Brooklyn lol.​
 
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