the walls are bending shape

‎ JULIAN COULD'VE TURNED TO STONE with londen's glare. that, and her restrained, yet lethal warning had him stopping himself from attempting to say anything more incriminating, easing back with his hands raised in mock innocence. "no, i wanna be on swing duty." nearly cut londen off as if the thought of miri funneling her affections elsewhere stirred something territorial in him. he ripped a bold bbq sauce pack, gingerly dipping a nugget before taking a generous bite. "is she goin' to school yet?" julian knew miri was three, but he also knew so little about children's milestones, was even surprised when he saw her one day and she'd already learned how to walk.

#𝗰𝗹𝗼𝘀𝗲𝗱𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗋𝗍𝖾𝗋 ›› sebastian valmont & julian koenig , @derailmvnts location: main valmont residence , evening.

#𝗰𝗹𝗼𝘀𝗲𝗱𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗋𝗍𝖾𝗋 ›› juliet sinclair & julian koenig , @derailmvnts location: juliet's townhouse.

‎ JULIAN KNEW he wasn't juliet's first choice for anything. he wasn't even second, or fifteenth. so when he got the text from juliet asking him to take her former date's place to the yacht party, he thought it was supposed to be a joke, or she'd sent a message to the wrong person. but then he called her and found out that 1) she didn't even have his number saved 2) he went to college with the host, a recluse of an artist who despised fashion media but only softened around people from his 'before fame' life, and 3) she was expecting him at 7:30, shaven and showered. lucky for her, he'd already gotten one out of two down, and when he did finally show up, it was clear, from thick stubble and curls in desperate need of a trim, which one that was. "woah, you're telepathic," came out in place of a proper greeting when juliet opened her door seemingly on cue. he looked down at his outfit, smoothing out his jacket while juliet scrutinized it like a rejected spread from last year's issue. "no one's gonna be looking at what i'm wearing," he stated confidently. they were gonna be looking at who he was arriving with: the juliet sinclair, the it girl of all it girls, the gatekeeper of what was trendy and what wasn't... albeit, showing up with a guy who had no business wearing shearling in spring, but she'd made up for style enough for the both of them. "you look nice." she did, he wasn't just saying that because he was raised to tell girls they looked nice, even when he thought they didn't (and often, he didn't — tell girls that they looked nice, that is, which meant that tonight, juliet looked extra nice). "we takin' your car?"

‎ FRANKLY, JULIAN DIDN'T GIVE A SHIT about heirs and heiresses, either, partly because he was so far down the line of succession that his siblings would all need to get final destinationed before he'd get anywhere near inheriting any real position in the company, but mostly—and more importantly—he could not be less interested in that responsibility. maybe adam can, with his unshakable sense of duty and business-savviness. and cassian's proven himself to be more than capable of calling the important shots in the background, sort of mythologizing himself in a position of influence where others had theirs manufactured. maybe that's why he didn't seem all that impressed with what he'd allegedly done. "right. 'course not. the house calls you, right?" which, julian had to admit, was honestly pretty badass of cassian. eyebrows raised, shoulders straightened at attention, julian didn't know whether to be embarrassed, angry, or proud, especially since cassian, of all people, had found it on his radar. which could mean anything, but julian highly doubted it was something to be proud of. "well, you're makin' me nervous now, cass."

‎ HE HADN'T NOTICED nick sitting by the bar, let alone right beside where he was currently waiting for the bartender to notice him so he can get some water, but that was too much to ask for, apparently. and so was nick's proclivity for drinking alone. unsure at first if the man wanted to be spoken back to—he still didn't know where nick stood with him—he finally responded, "i'm sorry, i'm having a really hard time trying to feel bad for you for that," though realized, as soon as the words had left his lips, that he probably should've kept his mouth shut. "i'm assuming they weren't your type, then?"

‎ THOUGH HER ACTING CHOPS WEREN’T TERRIBLE, julian had a hard time believing that mila felt anything closely resembling remorse for talking shit about her colleague. she was probably just raised with good manners and actually remembered to show it. but what split-second sympathy they may or may not have shared over poor cami was quickly replaced with incredulity from julian that she’d said such a thing about him. and here he thought he was being the good guy. “she said what?” like he wasn’t the one who’d brought it up first. probably not the smartest thing to do, spread a bald-faced lie about your landlord (assistant to the landlord, his sister might remind him). then again… “you know what,” his expression softened with reluctant concession. “her life kinda sucks right now. i’ll give her a pass.” for all the cattiness he’d seen on mila for the past few minutes, coy was a pretty color on her. then it was his turn to act all flustered, shoulders shifting awkwardly that if he pressed himself any more against the glass, he’d probably fall through. and there was no coming back from that one. "did you now?" he rolled the bottle between both hands, thumb slowly tracing through the damp ring of condensation around the neck. “i think most people have been trying to steer clear of my company tonight after what they heard about me.” 

‎ JULIAN WONDERED, when you achieved the level of fame that cassian had, if you started to think of yourself in the third person, if notoriety was an out-of-body experience like someone recounting the time you'd sleptwalked through an entire house fire. in which case, cassian was just now waking up barefoot and bedheaded to realize that he'd come out virtually unscathed. "i'm just sayin', that's what i heard." julian didn't want to bother cutting through the grapevines to see which rumors were true and which weren't, but cassian didn't seem bothered either way. if anything, he sounded kind of amused. "i guess if you were pissed off enough, maybe you would." he shrugged. "this was an heiress, too. apparently, you just didn't give a shit." now julian was really curious if cassian had done it.

‎ JULIAN ALWAYS THOUGHT that tobi knew everyone in new york, had at least a thousand people in his phone (were you even allowed to hold that many contacts?) and couldn't enter a room where he wasn't already acquainted with at least one person. but that was before he realized that the guy just naturally fell into strangers' company with effortless wit and charm. he knew what words to fill the awkward pauses, knew how to engage himself even with the dullest people on planet earth. he just kept people talking. that was how julian had found him, already mid-conversation with the bartender who looked like they'd rather be sitting on the other side of the bar, talking tobi's ear off for the rest of the night. julian didn't know what possessed him to place a hand around tobi's arm, another over his shoulder, but he seemed to succeed in drawing tobi's attention towards him. "hey," he greeted, sliding his hands off, promptly shoved into his jacket pockets like he'd been caught touching something he wasn't supposed to. "yeah, 'course. what'd you get me?"

‎ SHE MOVED TO SETTLE NEXT TO HIM, creating negative space between themselves and the rest of the room. it took him a second, but her silence suddenly made sense. a sigh left his lips, slightly annoyed at how pippa was quick to catch onto these things and a lot annoyed at how people felt like they had the right to know anything. but he'd resigned himself to the fact that he wouldn't be getting any answers tonight—or he could try, but pippa would never give him a guarantee. her disgust earned an amused huff from him as he watched her recoil from the beer like he hadn’t already tried to warn her. but that was just pippa; if he told her that he was getting chased by a guy with a machete, she'd probably round the corner and check if he was still there. his expression softened when she mentioned the letters, rife with inside jokes and juvenile cutouts like they used to do when they were twelve. "i did." he kept them all—these new ones, anyway. most of the letters he had from childhood hadn't survived that one rage-filled night a few years ago, the memory of which made guilt stir in his chest. he hadn't the heart to tell her yet. this wasn't the right place for a confession. "the guys in my unit started to get excited whenever they heard i got another letter from you. people are starved for entertainment in there." of course, there were some parts he kept for himself, not because they contained anything too personal, but he just liked that he had something that was just theirs, that he wouldn't get to share with other people, let alone strangers he was never going to see again in his life. she mentioned germany again and the elephant is in a fucking tutu spraying glitter from its trunk begging to be noticed. glass lifted to his lips with a sip that was just as disappointing as hers, he pretended he was drinking something at least 80 proof and didn't have bubbles. "yeah... i checked out early. had to go home and deal with... family stuff." or he was just looking for an excuse to leave. family seemed like a good excuse as any. for the koenigs, family would always be the excuse. he emptied the rest of the glass down his throat, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "a stuffed toy, huh? what the hell did you guys do over there?" he wasn't necessarily asking about arlo, but he was reminded about it again and the itch in his brain desperately wanted to be scratched.