some kinda drug

we dated pretty seriously and your parents were also absentee. now we are broken up and it’s like five years later and your absentee father is my new boss.

F.Scott Fitzgerald (More Than Just a House)

“you know what ?? on second thought, i’m a s k i n g you to leave. you don’t know shit about me and yet you’re standin’ like the female version of g o d. if i wanted a therapist, i know where to find one. go get on someone else’s nerves.”

"you're getting awfully defensive about this, huh? which only makes me further believe that i'm right. but, whatever, you can't lie to yourself forever, you know. one day you're gonna realize that there's that one person you just can't live without. and if you keep pushing people away like this, you're gonna miss the opportunity."

garrett does as he says and sits down, taking the water from the other’s hand. he takes a deep breath before bringing it to his lips and sipping slowly. “garrett,” he smiles. “i promise that i don’t go around puking on every person i meet, i don’t know how or why that happened,” he says, rubbing over his face with his hand.

taylor goes through his bag again and pulls out a set of extra clothes. ah, the life of a paramedic. he’s switching supplies from the front pocket into the largest pocket and then begins to peel away the stained shirt. it goes in the front away from the rest of his medical supplies. yes, he’s stripping in front of a stranger. “well, i’d hope not.” the paramedic smiles and slips on the clean shirt. a change of his pants – he’s wearing normal boxers underneath, so. “you don’t know why. huh. that’s a bit worrisome. at least we know you’re not puking up blood – that’s a good sign.” oh my god, taylor.

he can't really help it when his eyes begin to follow the other's movements as he takes off his shirt, it just kind of happened. it was quite the sight to see, if you asked garrett. "yeah, most likely not the best way to make friends," he chuckled shaking his head and taking another sip of the water. "i suppose. probably just the stomach bug, or something, i think that one of those is going around the unit right now. my sincerest apologies, again." this was definitely a low point for garrett, not one of his proudest moments.

‘ look, i know what you’re probably thinking, i am landon wayland, nascar driver, ’ he said, gesturing to himself with a cocky smile. ‘ but i’m not really in the mood for autographs or anything like that, so if you could let me drink my beer in peace, that’d be great, love. ’

as soon as he started speaking, she looked over at him with an eyebrow cocked. a slow smirk started to appear on her lips the further he spoke, eventually a slight shake of her head. "i was actually just going to ask if you could move over a bit so i could get the bartender, i have no idea who you are."

“look, don’t get out of line here, p r i n c e s s. i don’t have feelings. i’ve got nothing to be in denial about—- shouldn’t you be running along somewhere ??”

“i’m fine staying right here ... you know, you’re not as emotionless, and cold-hearted as you make yourself out to be. i bet there’s more to you than that, you just don’t want anyone to know. therefore, denial.”

“oh, fuck,” garrett says to himself, wiping the corner of his mouth on the back of his hand. “i’m so sorry,” he looks up at the man in front of him, a flush color coming to his cheeks. “uh –– probably not the best way to meet someone, but,” he closes one eye, squinting at the other –– his head is kind of spinning and he decides that’s probably not good.

taylor flashes a smile. “hey, it’s alright.” he’s concerned – of course he is – he’s disgusted – of course he is, he’s covered in sick. he’d never dream of showing it though. “eh, i’ve had worse first meetings, promise. why don’t you sit down? you look like you need to.” taylor already knows how to do this, he’s already fishing for a water bottle in his bag, cracking it open. “should be cold, small sips though, okay?” his voice is so gentle. “i’m taylor.”

garrett does as he says and sits down, taking the water from the other's hand. he takes a deep breath before bringing it to his lips and sipping slowly. "garrett," he smiles. "i promise that i don't go around puking on every person i meet, i don't know how or why that happened," he says, rubbing over his face with his hand.

                                                                       understand me ?? ”

“no, i don’t understand you. i think that you’re just in denial of your feelings, and that you won’t let yourself need anyone outside of your pack.”

taylor’s gonna pretend they didn’t just puke all over him. there’s a millisecond where he reacts with disgust before going back to his soft expression. actually, he’ll pretend he’s okay with it. “part of the job, love.” except he’s not on the job.

"oh, fuck," garrett says to himself, wiping the corner of his mouth on the back of his hand. "i'm so sorry," he looks up at the man in front of him, a flush color coming to his cheeks. "uh –– probably not the best way to meet someone, but," he closes one eye, squinting at the other –– his head is kind of spinning and he decides that's probably not good.

trent hates the mornings after the band throws a party at their la house, it always looked like a tornado RIPPED through. there were alcohol bottles & cans scattered everywhere, the floor was sticky, & it still smelled faintly of pot. he knew they would get someone to clean it later, but in the mean time he’d have to deal with it. walking downstairs with just his grey sweatpants on he spotted the other in the kitchen, the one he knew slept over last night with of his band members. he didn’t expect to see anyone this early, he thought he’d be the only one up considering he was sober last night. “uh, hi. i didn’t…i didn’t think anyone would be awake.” he rubbed the hairs on the back of his neck anxiously, cursing himself for not putting more clothes on. he’d had the biggest crush on the other for the longest time but as far as he knew they were just a groupie, & he had no chance. “that’s um, that’s my shirt you’re wearing.” he pointed out, furrowing his brows for a second in confusion, “oh but that’s totally fine though ! you can borrow it, i-i don’t mind.” he says hastily, not wanting them to think it was a problem or anything. 

regardless of how late she'd been awake the night before, cassie had been up early, and unable to fall asleep. she pulled on the closest shirt to her, not even caring that she couldn't find her pants, and made her way out of the messy bedroom and into the rest of the trashed house. if you thought frat houses were bad after a party, multiply that by like, 20, and you'd have this house. she was on her toes, looking into one of the cabinets to gather herself a cup of coffee when she was slightly startled by a voice. "oh –– hi, sorry. i couldn't sleep. coffee?" she asked, a lazy smile on her lips. granted, she'd spent the night with one of his bandmates, but she couldn't help the slight attraction she felt towards the blonde in front of her. "is it?" she looked down at the shift covering her naked torso. "it's a very nice shirt. i'll make sure it gets back to you before i leave," she smiled. "why're you up so early?"

She’s Kinda Hot » ROWYSO: Concord, CA | 7.21.15