𝖌𝖔𝖉 𝖘𝖕𝖊𝖊𝖉

          Dingy bars were so not her thing. Actually, from bars in general Annabelle tried to stay away from. She was enough to handle while sober and whenever the British blonde got drunk it only ever worsened. Still, there she was, sitting on a stool, alone, mulling over the fact that her publicist wanted her to enter in a fake relationship, for profit, her, who believed in love and was maybe childishly romantic. Despite the circumstances in which she was born, her parents still did love one another, didn’t they? It made her want just that. The smiles on the corner of the eyes, just by being with the other person. What would a PR relationship entail? Sure it would maybe feed on the persona she showed the world, but what about her? A couple fighting not far from where she was broke her away from her thoughts, she took a sip of her glass of wine, rolled her eyes at them and before she could make any mention to leave her place, she was talked to. How did she not notice Asher there? A brief smile widened her lips. Almost a hello to drawn out the awkwardness that quickly bloomed inside of her. She didn’t let it show, of course. She was confident. Impenetrable. His question caused her eyebrow to raise, doe blue eyes looked at him with cynicism. “Consider myself far too young to have experienced such tragedy, what’s so good about it anyway,” she shrugged, “do you think they’re in love?”

In all fairness, Asher knew it was Annabelle sitting beside him. Her presence was difficult to ignore from her icy blue eyes to those slender legs he could recognize in any setting. His brain searched for something smart to say, a flirtatious line that would make her swoon in remembrance of just who Asher Hemmings was. But it was clear that shipped had sailed and the young blonde was no longer as easily impressed by his mere presence any longer. Why they were suddenly sitting in awkwardness was beyond him, but truthfully he’d never been very observant nor did he typically do wellness checks surrounding the state of his hook-ups. “Consistent sex. General comfort. Joint income.” Asher listed snidely as he looked at the other, scanning her face for a trace of recollection surrounding their time together to simply no avail. She seemed detached from the whole thing which seemed unorthodox from the typical girls he found himself entertaining. “Probably not,” he dismissed, nodding at the bartender who dropped another drink in front of him that immediately found its place in his hand. “Just codependent I’d say which is precarious to a person’s singular identity. But then again, individuality is a dwindling condition. A few and far between these days, wouldn’t you say?” His smirk only grew, unable to resist the next thing that came from his lips in a way that seemed innocent enough. “Everyone wants to be TikTok sensations and social media influencers but I’d say it’s all the same. Nobody’s truly an individual anymore, just wanna feel special.”

The magnetism between Asher Hemmings and the bar was palpable. He made his move in on the bartender, slipping his thick black credit card across the granite countertop to open a tap. The weight hitting the counter made some of the thirstier head turns, but Asher was used to it and shot them a snide smirk. He’d just turned away from the bar with two drinks in his hands, one for himself and one for whatever her name was, when something caught his eyes. A something attached to a someone rather. He would have recognized those gold hoops anyways, pinned against the same tan skin he’d kissed more times that he could count. The thought kept him up at night, distracted no longer by her presence but her absence instead.  But in this moment, all he could focus on was her, Xyla. The last thing he was going to do was shy away in a corner and let someone nameless groupie chew on his earlobe all night. So, in true Asher fashion, he took action. 

What had happened between him and Xyla was lost on him. It’d been so long, it seemed more like a missed connection than anything. He’d forgotten why he stopped calling, or perhaps why she had. But what’s past was prologue in this situation. It was time for a new beginning and as he approached Xyla, he was sure of it. “Well, if it isn’t my date for the evening.” Asher smirked down at her. “You should have at least texted me so we could have color coordinated our outfits. The last thing we want to look like is an unfashionable couple.” He could feel the ice in his date’s drink beginning to melt against his palm. Xy had entirely made him forget the drink’s presence so he held it out to her, a lame attempt that would have surely been transparent.  “For you. Drinks on me tonight. Just walk up to the bar and order what you want and tell the bartender the tab is under Hemmings.”

@xvillanueva​

“Isn’t it?” Lillian asked, completely agreeing with him. Love was honestly the last thing she wanted to talk about, considering her recent divorce. However, it wasn’t as painful because she hadn’t actually loved her ex-husband for the last couple years. “I have been once, but we fell out of love…which happens sometimes, I guess,” she said, shrugging her shoulders. “What about you?”

“Demanding, too.” Asher playfully rolled his eyes. The argument between the couple at the end of the bar seemed to only be growing louder. It was to be expected of course. The only thing he couldn’t quite put his finger on was why the bartender hadn’t yet put a stop to their incessant bickering by now. “Was it truly love then? Or just a way to pass the time in blissful ignorance?” He asked honestly, not meaning to be harsh. But to be fair, it wasn’t like people we consciously assholes to strangers. “Married to my job. It’s easier that way. No complaining, no expensive gifts, no holidays with someone else’s family and certainly none of that.” He nodded down the couple that was still somehow arguing. 

After a seemingly frustrating day with a customer who made a few too many passes at her, Teddy found herself wandering into the nearest bar she could find to get a drink. Don’t ask her why she’d ordered a margarita, all she knew was that it was the first drink that had come into her mind when the bartender asked for her order. Sipping her fruit drink, Teddy glanced at the man next to her when he spoke up. In her own sick sense of humor she’d almost said that it was an expensive one too, but that bordered a little to close to criminal activity. “You’re not wrong, its also odd how people draw it. Never looks anything like the actual organ. Then again, the actual organ probably wouldn’t look as cute on Hallmark cards.” She chuckled softly, taking another sip of her drink. The question was an easy one for Teddy, unfortunately so depending on who’s opinion you got on it. “Not really no. Crazy how I haven’t fallen for anyone in 26 years on this rock.” Might have to do with her being incredibly private too. “I just…I never felt that spark, ya know? Never felt that sense that they’re home. What about you?”

Asher laughed at the girl’s cheesy joke about the Hallmark cards. He tried to imagine a bleeding, anatomically correct heart consuming two people’s initially etched into the bark of an oak tree which made him chuckle more so. “Takes away the complexity of such organ, and the concept of love. Why do they even associate love with your heart anyways?” Asher asked, hoping that she would have an answer better than one that was just a google search away. As she talked about her own love life, Asher simply nodded, not thinking much of her response. Love was a complex thing for him as well. He never believed he deserved it nor could he conjure up the passion to feel it which was an entirely different story. “Nope. Struggling to find someone I want to spent a comfortable yet miserably eternity with.” He nodded at the bartender who dropped a replenished drink before him and he took a sip accordingly. “But if she keeps making drinks like this, I might have to clear up some closet space in my apartment for her. They’re strong. Next thing you know, I’ll be leaving my phone number on the tip line with commas instead of dashes.” He chuckled. He was well off but not that well off. 

the question caused his brows to furrow, swallowing thickly as his own heart started to pick up its pace in rhythm. he didn’t WANT to think about him. but he always was. his late husband would always have a place in his heart and sometimes he wasn’t sure he’d ever move on. a soft chuckle escaped from his lips, raising his glass as he shook his head, “i’ll drink to that. a super fucking dramatic organ.” and he did just that, tossing the whiskey back without even a wince. “yeah. once. he was the love of my life.” jude admitted with a grim smile, “why you asking? i mean if you’re trying to confess your love for me, at LEAST buy me a drink first, babe.”

“How do you know someone’s the love of you life? You haven’t even live it to its entirety yet.” Asher asked cynically. He never understood the term, or the way in which people threw it around so casually. It seemed like every girl on instagram was captioning their pictures with the coined term as an homage to the scrawny boy they’d been dating one month. But he brushed it off, it wasn’t his life after all. “You think I’m going to try to pick you up by opening the conversation talking around your ex?” He playfully scoffed. “I’m not an amateur. If I was trying to confess my love for you, it’d take a lot more of these.” He shook the ice in his empty glass. “In which case,” Asher then flagged down. the bartender before smirking at the other man. “Want another? On me.”

@codstarters​

( MATTHEW DADDARIO + CISMALE ) —  Have you seen ASHER HEMMINGS ? This TWENTY-EIGHT year old is a MUSIC PRODUCER who resides in BROOKLYN. HE has been living in NYC for TEN YEARS, and is known to be OUTGOING and ALLURING, but can also be ARROGANT and SELF SERVING, if you cross them.  People tend to associate them with SCATTERED SHEET MUSIC ON A MARBLE FLOOR and GOLDEN BAR CARTS LITTERED WITH EXPENSIVE LIQUOR. — ( haley, 21, she/her, triggers: eating disorders & self harm, est )