Brooklyn Carver

Brooklyn Carver || Carlson Young

thirty-two. bartender @ swinging door. native

Tate honestly expected Brooklyn to say no. He wasn’t sure what it was about their history that gave him any glimmer of hope, but that tiny part of him won out. A broad smile spread across the man’s face as she agreed to join him for the night, and he was grateful as hell for it. “Alright,” he said, shrugging? C’mon, B, you know you’re the good stuff.” It slipped out before he could stop himself, and Tate glanced at the floor as he laughed at himself softly. He held the door open for her before following her out to the parking lot, nodding toward his truck in case she wasn’t sure which one it was. He’d gotten a new one in the past couple years and while everyone in town knew everything about Tate Medina, he figured that Brooklyn Carver would be the one person who managed to ignore him better than anyone. Opening the passenger door for her, Tate leaned against it and offered his hand to help her up. 

For the first time, Brooke caught herself hiding the blush that flashed across her cheeks. This wasn’t the same redness that graced her cheeks as she cozied on up in the back office with Maxine or some out of towner that stumbled into the Swinging Door late while she was working. No, this was softer. More gentle. Her own eyes darted to the ground as his soft laughter entered the air. She really hadn’t expected her stomach to get all twisted over a compliment from Tate. Not one like that. “Thanks,” she offered a smile, finally bringing her gaze back to him as she stepped through the door. Brooke didn’t know if she was thanking him for the compliment or the door holding. Or both. “Old truck finally die on you?” Her brow raised as she looked back over her shoulder at him. Part of her was glad. She couldn’t imagine getting into the same truck they drove around in high school in with the same boy that she used to be in love with. Brooke placed her hand in his as he offered it out to help her into the truck. The blonde was a cheerleader but Tate and his damn trucks had always given her a run for her money. And it seemed that he had not forgot that little tidbit about her. “It’s nice,” she commented, placing her bag in her lap as a security blanket of sorts as he got into the drivers side. “At least in comparison to that old beater.” Her eyes turned to him, the corners of her lips sliding into a teasing smile. 

lottie was glad brooke understood. she didn’t know what she’d do without the blonde by her side. she’d gone through so much with cash and brooke had always been there when she needed a shoulder to lean on. she was glad things were improving though.  “i know you guys just want what’s best for me but thank you for being here for me and caring.” she gave her friend a smile and then let out a small laugh. “i really don’t think you have anything to worry about.”

Brooked nodded her head, “Well what else are friends for?” Her brow raised in a playful manner. There were few people as close to her as Lottie and Maverick. People that she had let into her life all those years ago. They were the few people in her life that knew all the ups and downs of her high school relationship with Tate. How she couldn’t quite seem to commit to someone now and well, they were as much her supporters as she was for them. “I best hope not,” she was still smiling at Lottie. “Kota may have taught me a few moves over the years.” Which was absolutely a lie and the smile sticking to her lips only proved it. 

“C’mon now,” Jack said with a hearty laugh, “You’re tellin’ me you don’t listen to ol’ Dakota?” Although Jack had only met with Brooklyn Carver on a handful of occasions he had no doubt that she could (and would) simply ignore her brother. Perhaps it should have been in Jack’s best interest to display some sort of restraint in encouraging poor behavior, but that just wasn’t who he was. Three younger sisters or not, Jack couldn’t help but applaud Brooklyn’s attitude, especially since it was at the expense of someone he had a long history of issues with. “I think he’ll be okay as long as you’re just helpin’ me find these donkeys.” 

Another eye roll flashed across her eyes, wanting to roll them straight back to her head as her brother’s name left Jack’s lips once more. “Got no reason to go and do that,” she shot back at him. “Mhm, right, just helpin’ you find these donkeys.” Her lips fell into a thin line at the thought, surely thinking that wasn’t all she wanted to happen but that was still to be determined. “Any other clue where they might have taken off too?” Her brow raised with the question, “I mean you really think they’ve wandered on down here? Wouldn’t we have heard some sort of commotion from people if they were?”

Something about having to approach Brooklyn Carver about the whereabouts of the donkeys was kind of amusing. Being the younger sister of Dakota Carver he could only imagine the colorful description that he would be given when she’d most likely retell this tale at a later date. He’d say something like ‘an ass looking for asses?’ and most people wouldn’t disagree. “I wouldn’t say I lost them,” Jack said in defense of his earlier brain fade. “I would just say that they got out and all that matters is that I’m out here lookin’ for them.” That wasn’t necessarily true. It mattered that he was looking but it would’ve made a bigger difference had he just turned the fence back on. “You allowed to be talkin’ to me?” Jack quizzed, “Or is your brother gonna come out here and go all Inglourious Basterds on me?”

Brooklyn shrugged her shoulders. “It sounds a lot like you lost them,” but who was she to judge? She really wouldn’t be caught dead out at Whiskey Hollows anyhow. Despite having Dakota for a brother, she wasn’t exactly the type to get dirt under her fingernails unless she found herself on the country roads with Tate back in high school. It was one of the few times the blonde allowed herself to fall off the tracks a bit. To let loose, so to speak. Brooklyn felt her eyes roll back at the mention of her brother. A natural reaction when anyone spoke of him. Not that she didn’t love Dakota, as he was family, but he had his moments. “What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him,” she lifted her shoulders in another shrug, “Plus, when have I ever gone and listened to my brother?” 

Open, @tupeloextras​

Location: Downtown Tupelo

Jack was many things, but being forgetful of the animals at Whiskey Hollow was not one of them. However, he had found himself working on the fence that kept three mischievous donkeys corralled up behind the barn and when he had finished he had failed to turn the electric fence part back on. This discovery had only been made when he had returned to the pasture later on and found it completely vacant. The Three Amigos had vanished without a trace and were surely downtown wreaking havoc (where they had been found before the last time Jack had forgotten to turn the fence back on). 

So there he was, sitting atop one of his most trusted steeds who was affectionately named “Pork Chop”. The name neatly etched onto the leather breast plate around the animal’s shoulders, one side saying ‘Pork’ and the other ‘Chop’ to give a clear indication of the legend who wore it. 

The two meandered casually down the side of the road into the downtown area of Tupelo, seeking out every alley alongside the buildings to see where these donkeys had run off to. A few people seemed to be surprised by the vision of Jack and Pork Chop wandering around, but most behaved as if it were perfectly natural. As he passed by someone he gave a wave. “Hey!” He said, bringing the little buckskin horse to a halt. “Have you by any chance seen three donkeys around here? They look like… well… donkeys.” 

Brooke was known, despite her brother’s hatred for the Dunn, to have the hots for Jack. Who could really blame her? Besides Dakota. The blonde knew that Jack was a tool and yet, that was partly what made him so goddamn attractive to her. She hadn’t really had the best taste in men since her high school relationship with Tate. She preferred the flings, the high of being with someone for fun time and not a long time. From sleeping with her boss to certainly not minding if she ever slipped into the sheets with Jack, Brooke had some serious issues she needed to confront about her taste in men. 

When she was approached by Jack. On a horse. She nearly asked to give him a ride right then and there. Her brow raised at his question. Clearly, Jack wasn’t just going to approach her out of the blue to talk. He looked like was on a mission, mounted on that horse. “Uh, what?” She couldn’t believe what he was asking. If she had seen any donkeys? “I can’t say that I have,” she looked around, expecting one to have snuck up on her in the meantime. “I mean, did you lose them? Are they that easy to lose?” 

lottie appreciated that the girl was looking out for her and she had no idea how she got so lucky to find a friend that looked out for her the way that brooke did. “i figured that’s how you knew. it’s not like i was hiding it from you but it’s just that i haven’t found the right time to tell you.” she knew that hiding stuff like this wasn’t at all be a good idea. “he’s doing better and i know that not everyone is my life is going to believe that but, he is and i love him.” and there wasn’t really anything anybody could do, especially if he was doing better. “i know you’d totally do that and i’m not against it at all.”

Brooke shrugged her shoulders, “I know you aren’t. You get caught up in the moment and honestly,” she shook her head, “I’m not even upset. I’d probably be in the same boat as you if I was you.” Brooke, despite the rather tough front the blonde put on, knew that if she were in a similar position would have reacted the same way. “All that matters is that you believe him, Lottie. Not me, or anyone else has to believe that too. You know we all just want the best for you and I’ll let you know if I don’t feel like it, I won’t let you get hurt again if I can help it.” She wagged her finger at her friend, knowing that only Lottie would be able to keep herself from getting hurt, but that didn’t mean Brooke wouldn’t look out for her. 

Tate’s gaze fell to Brooklyn’s lips, following her tongue without a chance of stopping himself. “Well, it’s my lucky night, then.” Tate tapped his knuckles on the bar countertop, wondering if this was a sign. If Tate believed in signs, then he’d surely believe this was one. “I figured you and I could go drive around and find us a little moonlight on a dirt road like old times.” He wasn’t exactly nervous, because Tate Medina didn’t get nervous, but he was wondering just how likely it was that Brooke would say yes. “If you’re up for it, I mean.” 

His offer immediately brought her back to when they were in high school. Odd to think that was fifteen plus years ago. They had been together on and off so frequently that no one ever knew if they were dating. Hell, not even Brooke knew when they were dating at times. The pressure of being this high school power couple had got the better of them. “Alright, yeah,” what else did she have to lose? It was something to do. And it wasn’t going to end with her sleeping with her boss. Which was typically a terrible idea - no matter how damn good it was. “Let’s go, I’m not tryin’ to get stuck bartending any longer.” Brooke tossed the towel she was using to wipe down the counters into the pile of other towels off to the side before she bent down to grab her bag and to stash a bottle of vodka in her bag. “Got the good stuff to go along with it.” Just in case they needed an ice breaker. Brooke rounded around the bar, slinging her vodka filled bag over her shoulder before heading toward the door. 

A snort of flattered chortles sounded from the blonde. Maverick might have been straight but that didn’t meant she didn’t acknowledge her best friend was a total bombshell. Playful phrases of intimacy made her heart flutter all the same. “I’m lookin’ forward to the day you decide to sweep me off my feet Bee, I’ll be helpless against your advances” she placed a hand against her heart as a dramatic love struck sigh billowed from her painted lips. “Did my heart love till now? Forswear it, sight, for I ne'er saw true beauty till this night” her poetic rendition was followed by a partial faux swoon enacted with the utmost care not to crease the dress Brooklyn was kind enough to lend. Maverick didn’t own a lot of attire suited for nights out, thankfully the other blonde was too far from her size. She was mindful enough to straighten her tangled mane though an hour in Mississippi hit was sure to reduce it to a frizzy mess once again. 

The taste of liquid courage was knocked back, searing down her throat and leaving a heated haze in its wake. It was just the jolt she needed to shake the cobwebs loose. Maverick hadn’t been out, not properly, in a while. A homebody at her core, it was usually Brooklyn who encouraged these outings. She couldn’t stay cooped up in her house all the time. “Shit, that taste fouler than a can of motor oil” her face twisted momentarily before dissolving into mirth. 

Maverick didn’t hesitate following Brooklyn’s lead, the two sliding effortless into their ordered cab and immediately cranking the windows down. A seemingly endless playlist of upbeat ballads blasted – upon request – as they cruised down the road towards their first stop. By the time they pulled into the parking lot of the bar they were a symphony of giggles, Maverick’s constitution already mildly compromised and the poor driver eager for them to depart. “I say we get another drink and then we shimmy onto that dance floor, I feel like two steppin’” thankfully she opted out of wearing heels. She couldn’t very well bust a move feeling unbalanced. “I need a lot more tequila to make me forget how short this dress is” 

Brooklyn let her eyes roll back as Maverick mentioned her sweeping her off of her feet. “Please, you’ll never let that happen, no matter how hard I try,” she teased in response with a playful smile tugging on the corners of her lips as Maverick let loose poetry. “Always knowin’ the way to my heart,” she let a hand fall over her heart, her other hand resting on her forehead as she mocked her knees buckling beneath her. On the flip side, Brooklyn was not often one for poetry, but if it came from Maverick, it was more than tolerable to the blonde. 

A laugh left her lips as Maverick’s face twisted to match how she described the alcohol. “Oh c’mon,” she groaned, giving her friend a light tap on the arm, “it’s really not that bad, you just haven’t been out drinkin’ with me in a while and need to refresh those taste buds of yours.” Brooklyn teased her, knowing Maverick mostly preferred to be at home. However, it was on these rare occasions, she could get the other blonde out of her comfort zone and out for a night of fun. 

The cab ride to the bar was no different than those before. Laughter escaped their lips, the wind whipping through their blonde locks. At their first destination, pushed out of the cab by the driver ready to find a different set of patrons for his cab, she looked over at Maverick with a grin. While Brooklyn had opted to wear heels, it didn’t mean she couldn’t get down on the dance floor with her. “Oh please, you look hot as hell.” She nudged the woman as they stepped into the bar.

lottie nodded her head in confirmation, “you heard right. where’d you hear it? from hunter?” she asked, tilting her head. she wasn’t upset and she wasn’t even trying to hide it. the news honestly had just slipped her mind. “good. happy.” she reassured and smiled a little, “he’s better now, brooke. he’s nearly ten months sober and he left his life back in new orleans to be here for our family. i have to give him the benefit of the doubt. i love him.” she breathed out.

She wanted her best friend to be happy. That was never something she would hope against. Especially for Lottie, someone that been there for her entire life. “He might have mentioned it,” she lifted her shoulders in a shrug. It was part of the perks of working with the blonde’s brother. Though she doubted Lottie was all too aware that she was sleeping with Hunter after and during shifts. She nodded her head as Lottie explained that he was sober and back to stay in Tupelo. “I’m happy to hear that,” and she was, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t be on high alert for her friend, “I know you love him, but doesn’t mean I won’t get a few girls together to kick his ass if he messes up again.” She was mostly teasing about the idea.

location: the swinging door with: @brooklynxcarver​

Tate didn’t come to The Swinging Door often. In fact, he had gone 365 days between visits, coming for last year’s Monster Mash and not stepping foot inside the bar again until this year’s party. And yet, somehow he’d managed to not only attend this year’s Monster Mash but he found himself standing at the bar again only one week later. He didn’t know what it was about seeing Brooklyn at éternité that had made him get in his truck and drive across town tonight, but here he was, standing in front of the very bar she was working behind at ten thirty on a Friday night. Tate didn’t even want to think about what he’d have done if she wasn’t working.

“Hey, stranger,” he said softly when Brooke appeared before him, eyes softening at the sight of her. It’d been a weird couple of months for Tate, and while the team had done well and had a short run in the playoffs, they hadn’t won the championship he’d been hoping for. Something about the end of football season always got him feeling more nostalgic than he liked to admit, and he chalked this night up to that. “When do you get off?” Tate asked before blushing just slightly. “Sorry, I guess I shouldn’t just assume you are free. Let me try again. Do you have plans tonight when you get off?” 

The last person she ever expected to see at The Swinging Door was Tate Medina. In fact, she was certain he hadn’t even stepped foot inside the bar since last year’s Monster Mash and the one that happened this year. Truly, Brooklyn had been too busy bartending to really entertain the idea of talking with too many people, but she at least always had a hell of a time with her co-workers. Brooke was just finishing up her own shift, ready for a Friday night where she didn’t have to work until early dawn. They were few and far between but as she swung the white towel over her shoulder, she was approached by Tate. When she saw him walk into the bar, she truly hadn’t thought he would come over to greet her of all people. There was at least a handful of others that she could have thought would come first. 

“Hey,” her tongue slipped across her bottom lip, suddenly feeling a little less confident than the blonde normally did. Though Brooklyn knew she was getting off at that moment, her eyes couldn’t help but dart to the large clock behind her, her gaze lingering on it a moment before turning back to Tate. “Actually,” she hesitated a moment, “No,” Brooke shook her head, “I don’t have any plans. Typically don’t get to leave this early on a Friday.” But it was her turn in the rotation and she was ready to high tail it out of work. “Did you have somethin’ in mind?” A single brow rose with her question.