seize the day

—

As the ice settled inside the glass she held, it rattled around, making a small clinking sound as it separated from each other. Distracted, she looked down at it, noticing a small cherry sinking to the bottom — dammit.

Under her breath she ’ahem’ed’, stalling as words had conveniently escaped her. What could she have said?

How she remembers what he confessed that night before she left town?  Or how she just left him there without saying it back? Or how she would send him postcard after postcard, but never heard anything back? 

She didn’t want to think about it, didn’t want to remember any of it, because it hurt. But, the thing about Romy was, she didn’t let it come to light. If she was hurt, she’d suck it up. If she was angry, she’d put a smile on. She repressed a lot of shit thanks to her parents for never listening to her, or telling her she was making a big deal out of nothing. So, she learned to hold it all in. 

There was a sudden shift in mannerisms from her, as she smiled at Jack. Her eyebrows raised, just as her lips stretched into a fine line across her features, and she shifted her weight from one foot to the next — fake it till you make it.

“The band?” It came out as a question, and it was meant as such. Romy wasn’t sure if that’s what he was referring too, but she’d oblige, “We split. I got my old job back at the cafe. I’m, uh, back-back. But, uh, how are you? How’s things?” 

Jack tried not to frown - all he could think about was all the dreams they’d had, back when they were kids. Jack would be a published poet, and Romy would be a famous musician, and they’d get away from Elisabeth and everything would be perfect. Obviously, those were just dreams, though.. But Jack had hoped at least Romy could make hers come true. And now, here he was. Being pulled back to fucking reality.

—

Virgin drink in hand, Romy thanked the bartender after leaving a decent sized tip upon the bar; which was partially made to convey an apology for her drink of choice; a Shirley Temple, but sans maraschino cherry. She just felt it was tedious for them to make, considering they were probably trained to make more elaborate drinks upon request. There was safety in non-alcoholic drinks, and it was a sure way for her to avoid any sort of bad decision making. 

But it was when she turned to leave that she instantly regretted the childish drink she had grasped in the palm of her hand. “Uhh ━ hi.” Words had failed her in that moment, eyes diverting from his in search of someplace else to focus. Jack was definitely the last person she ever expected to run into, especially at an event like this. Quickly composing herself, and with a fake smile in place, she spoke up, “Oh ━ yeah, I–uh, got back a few weeks ago.”

.

A few weeks. Jack wasn’t sure what to think, what to feel. Part of him was glad to see her, sure, but at the same time.. The last time.. He cringed internally, thinking about what he’d said - Not that he hadn’t meant it, but he had thought.. Well, that he wouldn’t see her again, maybe ever. That she was following her dreams, and she’d be famous, and forget him, but no. Here she was, in the flesh, drink in hand, looking.. Well, beautiful, to put it mildly.

“What about - I mean, I thought, y’know..” He stumbled over his words, trying to regain his composure. “Nevermind. I’d, uh, offer to get you a drink but.. Looks like you’ve already got one.”

“No, no you don’t know me, not personally at least, but I know you.” What a creepy sentence out of context, but Mia didn’t really care, when it came to social standing she was already aware the man in front of her was at the very least a couple of notches below her on the pecking order. If not a solid ten. No this little conversation was for her own entertainment as well as to aid the curiosity she’d had about the other for a fairly long time. “You’re the fish boy, I see you around a lot, normally I smell you first but it’s nice to see you put on a suit for the evening. It actually suits you, although I can imagine it’s not very practical in your line of work. Now, fill me in, what exactly is your line of work? Apart from the obvious aquatic life connection.”

.

As she spoke, Jack couldn’t really do anything but stand there. What was he supposed to say to that? He didn’t even know her name - Hell, she didn’t even know his name. The fish boy? Maybe, given more time to process, he would’ve been offended. “I, um.. Sorry, I - Who the fuck are you?” He didn’t mean to be rude, but at the same time, he didn’t really mean not to be.

—

Hannah’s eyebrows raised as he hesitated with his answer, a soft laugh escaping her lips as she nodded in understanding. It seemed like the pair were in the same boat and she was no longer surprised she’d found him outside in the cold, finding solace in the frigid night air. “I know I may act like it sometimes, but I’m not your mom, Jack.” Chuckling softly, Hannah watched him dig into the pockets of the jacket she’d given him, grin slowly growing on her features. “You left what in your jean pockets?” She asked with raised brows, grin never faltering as she reached into her cleavage and pulled out a joint. “This?”

.

Jack was disappointed, for a minute, until Hannah held up the joint. “Oh, so now you just go through my pockets?” He said, but he was smiling. He reached into the jacket pocket again - Luckily, he hadn’t forgotten his lighter, and he handed it to her. “So, I was gonna bid on that aquarium season pass, or whatever for you and Niko, as a thank you, for the, uh.. The clothes, but the last bid was.. Crazy. So.”

But as he got to the bar, and was waiting in line, he saw someone turn around, and - Shit. Romy. He tried not to make eye contact, but it was too late, wasn’t it? “Wow, um.. Romy. I didn’t know.. You were back.”

WHO: @jack-rowe​ WHERE: Rockwater Resort

The harsh slap of the cold mountain air had Hannah inhaling a sharp breath as she stepped outside, wrapping the black faux fur stole tightly around her as she moved further away from the noise of the party inside. It wasn’t that she was having a bad time, but Hannah was tired of the stares and the whispers, the chatter about her family putting a damper on what was supposed to be a fun evening. But when she’d spotted a blast from her past she’d been recently running in to she’d had to get out of there. So after grabbing a glass of bubbly off of the nearest waiter’s tray, she’d made her way outside and began to search for a quiet place to gather her thoughts. She hadn’t expected to run into Jack, but she wasn’t surprised. Instead, she found herself leaning up against the wall next to him. “You hiding out here, too?”

Not going to the 2021 Volunteer Fundraiser was never an option for Amelia, hell it was never an option for any of the Rockefeller children, even if Kit would no doubt make his own rules as per usual. Still it would go against her nature for Mia to resist, so wearing a slinky black dress by her favourite designer Balmain so had shown up (slightly late thanks to getting caught up on a work call and refusing to leave until she was sure she looked impeccable and nothing less) and once she’d fended off the wrath of her best friend towards another partygoer and helped her change the blonde returned to the main ballroom to mingle with other attendees. Taking a glass of champagne from a nearby tray when it was offered she gave the waiter a cool smile, enjoying the sensation of the crisp bubbles as she took a small sip from the glass. Her sister was no doubt here somewhere, but as she scanned the room there were so many people it wasn’t the easiest thing to pick certain people out of the crowed. Seeing someone walking towards her she lifted her hand to wave in greeting, winning smile switching on, she might be exhausted but it was showtime.

Frankly, this event was the last place he wanted to be - Hannah had essentially forced him into going, down to buying him a goddamn suit, which he still felt bad about. At least, he thought to himself, there was alcohol, that was the only way he’d get through this evening, probably. Looking around, he spotted a waiter holding a tray of champagne, and tried to walk over as quickly as possible without looking like he was in a hurry. Or knocking anyone down. But the waiter walked away before he could get there, and instead he was standing face to face with a woman in a very fancy dress. Who was waving at him. “Sorry, uh,” He said, awkwardly.  “Do I know you?”

jack rowe for  the rockwater charity event 

styled by hannah bishop, the right side is what he showed up to hannah’s house in, and the middle and left are what he actually wears

WHO: @jack-rowe WHERE: Outside the Anchor Inn, Fremont

Hannah’s hands were shoved deep into the pockets of her winter coat as she looked up at the bar, slight frown on her features as her gaze turned back to Jack. “I can’t go in there.” She said with a sigh that left her lips in a white cloud beneath the two. “Either they’ll kick me out or they won’t serve me, either way it’s not going to be that much fun. I told you, we could just go to Port Elisabeth. They have places I can actually get in to. You can crash on my couch, too.” Stepping back so that someone could exit the bar, another visible sigh left Hannah’s lips at the staredown the leaving patron gave her. “Uncle Joe doesn’t like deserters. C’mon, kid. I’ll let you choose what we listen to on the way?” She offered meagerly. “Please? I want to avoid a scene.”

Jack frowned, shoving his hands in his pockets. It would be easy to just agree with her, and go to somewhere in Port Elisabeth, frankly, there was no real reason for him to say no. But he was feeling contrary, and tired, and he didn’t feel like the drive. “Hannah, seriously?” He grumbled. “Why do we gotta drive all the way to fucking Port Elisabeth every time we hang out? You’ll have to deal with your family, eventually. Everybody does.”

23. Would you rather someone be honest and hurt your feelings or lie to protect them?

“Dunno, I.. I guess it depends on who the person is?”

38. Do you wash your legs in the shower?

There was something about dancing that just made Marley feel alive. She wasn’t particularly good at it–not trained in anything more than throwing her arms above her head, closing her eyes, moving her hips relatively to whatever beat was blasting overhead, but she loved it, all the same. The thump of the bass in her chest, getting lost in a sea of bodies…even if she was dancing alone, she never really was. Though this particular night, she craved a little more than just the default company her fellow dance floor occupants offered. As her eyes scanned the bar for potential prospects, a smirk formed on her lips upon finding the perfect one, body snaking through the crowd until she was stood right before them, hand already outstretched. “You should dance with me.” She declared, loud enough to be heard over the music. 

@elisabethstarters​

Jack was not a dancer, by any means. Not even close enough for him to try - He didn’t see why anyone enjoyed writing about in a crowd of sweaty bodies, it all felt a bit claustrophobic to him. But he liked the music, the energy, and he liked sitting alone at the bar, where everyone was too busy to notice him. At least, he thought everyone was too busy to notice him, until there was a voice, and a girl, and her hand. 

“I don’t dance.” He replied. “Sorry.”

date: 12/01 time: 12:04am location: alibi @elisabethstarters​

It’s another busy night and Alibi is bulging with people. Some are thrashing near to the stage, where a new local band’s lead guitarist has ripped his mesh shirt off and is swinging it around, over his flaming-red head. There’s a swaying, dizzy line to the bathroom, and the bar feels cramped, people squishing against one another to try and get the bartenders’ attention.

Laurie, cheeks flushed, heart pounding so hard she’s sure it’s just about as ready as she is to burst and punch a customer in the face, is panting. She’s made record time in fixing someone a whiskey sour, and her hands are shaking.

“Gimme a sec,” she barely mumbles over the band, but her coworkers, used to Laurie’s troubles with talking, picks up on it nevertheless and nods.

The nighttime air hits like an airport embrace, and Laurie would throw her arms around it were it shaped like a person. She sags against the wall, and shivers when the thin sheen of sweat beading along her shoulders and brow begins to dry. 

It’s after a few deep breaths that she notices somebody smoking a few feet away.

“Can I bum one?”

Nights like this have always been Jack’s favorite - Even when he was a teenager, and sneaking away from Fremont and his family was a struggle, it’s always been better when there are so many people no one could notice him if they wanted to. He can pretend to be anyone, or really, it’s more like he can pretend to be nobody, the same way people from out of town can. If anyone asks, he’ll tell them he just came to see the band.

It’s still a little claustrophobic, though, and so he’s slipped out the door, hunched by the wall, with his jacket pulled around his shoulders smoking. 

“Huh? Oh, yeah, sure.” He pulls the pack out of his pocket and looks into it, then sighs and hands it to the woman. “It’s my last one. Supposed to be lucky, I think.”

Moonie shot Jack a look that said when has dad ever helped? Not because she felt a bitterness towards their father, but because she had accepted that as fact a long time ago. Jack seemed to get the point, most of the Rowe siblings did. “Easy money.” She offered him a closed-lip smile as the boarded the ferry. Juliette zipped up her jacket and they headed off to Port Elisabeth.

They way over was fairly quiet. These two siblings had little to nothing in common and even though some days Juliet wished that Jack cared about the family, she always remembered that there wasn’t much of a family to care for when it came to them. He was young too, so she figured that any of his rebellious tendencies would fade with time. Rebellion in the Rowe household wasn’t the stereotypical kind where kids caused a ruckus and tried all sorts of wild activities. No, to them it meant going against the grain and wanting to act like they were better than the fishermen they were. “We have to collect some checks from the French restaurant and the grocery store on main first.” Their family were the suppliers. “I’ll give you some of the proceeds for helping.”

...

Jack rolled his eyes. He wondered, privately, if she was as annoyed about this as he was - No, Juliet was a cookie cutter example of the kind of child the Rowe family produced. And she liked it that way too, at least, as far as he could tell. 

…

A scoff left her lips at his words, her own eyes rolling as she dried the mug with what she hoped was a clean dish towel near the sink. “Now where’s the fun in that?” She asked, her tone almost taunting as she made her way towards the door. “The diner it is, then.” Nodding once, Hannah’s hand was posed on the door handle before she stopped and turned back to him. “Wait, did you brush your teeth? I’m asking more for my nose than your health… your morning breath could stun an elephant.”

Jack rolled his eyes, dramatically turning back into the kitchen, and grabbing his tooth brush off the counter, brushing for a minute, and then looking back at her. “Good enough for you? Or do I need to fuckin’.. I dunno, wash my face and moisturize, too, or whatever?” He didn’t wait for an answer, though, slipping past her out the door.  “You know, you complain about me a lot for someone who seems to wanna keep me around.”

“Jokes on you, I never actually went to sleep. Just got home from the bar and started…. baking.” Offering a shrug, Ivy set the plate aside, letting out a soft sigh and letting her head fall so that it was resting on Jack’s shoulder. “Got home and dad was having some trouble, so I stayed up with him to make sure he was okay. But then he passed out and I couldn’t sleep.” 

“Not to totally kill the early morning, sweet and soft watching the sunrise with your bestest best friend mood or anything, but he’s getting worse. I’m kinda worried.”

..

“Well, luckily, your baking will never go to waste, long as you have me.” He said, with a small laugh. It faded almost immediately though, when she brought up her dad - He tried not to be weird about it, he didn’t think Ivy would want pity, or anything like that, but it was hard to watch sometimes, how much she had to deal with. And at the same time, he felt bad for all the times over their friendship he’d been bitter or resentful, that Ivy had parents who actually cared about her. Now, it seemed like that was much worse. Sometimes it felt like the day when Jack’s father finally dropped dead couldn’t come soon enough. 

where: just off bear trail with: @jack-rowe​

Ivy hadn’t really slept much. After her shift at the bar, she’d headed home, immediately checked on her dad, and just felt a little too wired to actually lay her head down and pass out. So she’d done what she always tended to do in that situation. She baked, and she cooked, and when even that didn’t get her exhausted, she found herself pulling out her phone and shooting off a text before throwing on her jacket and carrying a plate out to her favorite little hiding spot out on the trails.

The sun was barely up, and she didn’t exactly expect Jack to be up either, but it never hurt to try. And even if he didn’t show up, hell, she could at least eat her cookies in peace while watching the sunrise. She was taking a bite as she heard footsteps behind her, twisting her head to offer a little grin as she held up the plate. “I come baring cookies. Nothing better than cookies for breakfast at like 5 am.”

...

There weren’t a lot of people who Jack would drag his ass out of bed this early for, but Ivy was one of them. Sometimes. Usually. But he still felt like he was kind of asleep on his feet - He hadn’t even changed out of his sweatpants, he’d just thrown on a hoodie over the clothes he’d slept in. 

“Cookies?” He said, sitting down next to her. “Sweet, dude.” He half smiled, grabbing one of the cookies off the plate. “How are you even awake right now?”