I'm Not Your Soldier Boy

[ iMessage: Tristan ] :: You better, sir! ;) Look for the chauffeur holding the sign Mr. Lewton. 

Grinning down at his phone, Tristan shook his head as he made his way out of the airport. He had been to Vegas to celebrate a couple of the boys turning the big 21, but he had never really been treated to a time. Looking around at the different vehicles parked, Tristan’s grin grew as he saw the chauffeur and stepped quickly over to him. “Hey man, Mr. Lewton, right here,” he said, moving past him to open the door. “There free drinks included with this ride?” 

[ iMessage: Tara ] :: Just grabbed my bag. [ iMessage: Tara ] :: A limo, huh? Guess I'm going to have to put out in this little get away. :p :*

Watching the blast had left Tristan feeling slightly annoyed. Of course the asshole had to show how big his balls were and pull something like this. God only knew how much longer they were going to be stuck in this house–not that the playboy was complaining too loudly; however, he’d rather be in his own frat room instead of sharing with two other guys.  Deciding to be proactive, Tristan had made his way to the kitchen. Maybe the mysterious owner of the house had thought about providing candles or flashlights–in case of an emergency such as this. He hunted around and found a box filled with long stemmed candles as well as several flashlights–they had been stuffed into one of the cupboards towards the back which had made him curious about what exactly this Mr. Beinz knew about the murders. That is how the young frat boy found himself upstairs, placing the candles in candlesticks and leaving them in spots so once night came no one would be tripping over themselves without the lights. He had completely walked past the familiar blonde before he realized there was someone else in the hallway. Turning around, an easy smile came to his lips until he realized she was too invested into what she was looking at to realize he was even in her vicinity. Stepping over, he looked out the window, his mouth forming a grimace at the little scene outside. “Wonder if he’ll just get bored and find another frat or sorority to mess with.”

Grinning, Tristan shrugged. “More power to you, girl.”

Alex rolled her eyes, moving back into the open bathroom and finishing brushing her teeth before completely and utterly dropping her towel, not ashamed of a damn thing.

Eyebrows raising when the girl dropped her towel, Tristan's grin widened. "Damn girl. Looks like I chose the right place to hideout."

Grinning, Tristan shrugged. "More power to you, girl."

Fingers sliding up and down the liquor filled shot glass, Sara giggled to herself. The liquor already in her body was beginning to hum and electrify every nerve she had–making her do a little dance to Tara’s drum beats on the bar. Following Tara’s lead, the blonde quickly gulped down the whiskey, her throat almost completely numb to the feeling of fire running down it. “Another round for my movie star friend here!” She yelled to the bartender, her smile widening as the man went to get the bottle once more to fill their glasses. 

Head fuzzy from the amount of shots he had been shooting back, Tristan threw back another in time with the other two. His body was sizzling by the amount of alcohol they had consumed since hitting the club. “I think the star needs to come dance with me for a bit,” he called out--trying to get a momentary reprieve from the consumption of alcohol. “in fact, both of you should.”