hotel california

Name: Jack William Huxley Nicknames: Hux Gender/Pronouns: Non-binary, he/they Age: 29 Birthday: April 2nd, 1993 Zodiac: Aries Sun, Aquarius Rising, Pisces Moon Hometown: Los Angeles, California Neighborhood: DUMBO, Brooklyn Occupation: radio Host at DUMBO Radio FM / Lead Guitarist of Rhett Matthews' band Positive traits: open-minded, fearless, confident Negative traits: self-centered, arrogant, reliable Sexuality: bisexual

tw drugs, tw alcohol

“Hmm? Sorry, did you say something?” Grace blinked. She looked around the bustling coffee shop, forcing herself to come back to the present. She’d just finished her rehearsals for the day and after seven hours of dancing, her body was functioning on autopilot while her thoughts drifted. She ran a hand through her dark hair and shifted her dance bag on her shoulder. “I promise I’m not trying to be rude. I just need this coffee to function for the rest of the day.”

                “You and me both.” Jack replied as they took the cup of double espresso knowing they would get another in fifteen minutes. It was always like that, but what Jack was craving was the power of the hot dark liquid.. it was what would get him to endure the morning. Well, afternoon really considering Jack woke up at 3 pm - which was two hours ago. “You about to go to gym? Now?” The further Jack stayed from the gym, the better. Besides, they never understood gym goers.

“Something more interesting than you, it seems,” came Sunny’s response, hands coming to her hips for a moment, her look becoming pointed. “It’s called being enthusiastic, which you apparently know absolutely nothing about tonight.” Did she mean to huff? Well, yes, but she had been looking to have some fun and that didn’t seem to be happening with Jack this evening.

           Their brows raised up a bit. “But I am enthusiastic, love. Bruce Springsteen has a new record out, how about that?” Jack loved playing with his cousin and now they were more than sure they were getting on Sunny’s nerves - just they way they liked it. “What’s up with you anyways? I haven’t seen you so enthusiastic in ages. What, you got laid? I’ll drink to that,” Jack raised up a bit his bottle of beer before he brought it up to his mouth and drank.

It was not surprised to anyone who knew him to learn that Christmas time was, in fact, Sebastian’s favorite time of the year. From the rushed shopping (which he had already done a fair amount of) to the wrongly dubbed ugly sweaters— each and every tradition always managed to bring a smile to the professor’s face. And there was no place in town with higher holiday spirits than the Christkindl market. 

On his perhaps 5th visit to the festival, the dirt-blond found himself on the carnival games, eyeing the challenging and cleverly-made stands with a bright grin plastered on his lips. Blue eyes scanned the street briefly before positioning on the nearest figure standing idly, to whom Sebastian raised a brow to, mischievously. “What do you say?” he began, pointing a gloved hand to the stands in front of them. “Three games, loser buys snacks for the winner?” the blue-eyed inquired, white teeth making contrast with his redden nose, a cause of the cold air of the city he loved so dearly. “You can choose the games, make the rules.”

              Going with their hand through their hair while in their other hand was a cup of mulled wine, which was horrible by the way, Jack was standing in middle of the carnival games. They were not interested at all in watching people play games, even more so to play themselves, but it was the part of the carnival their friend was waiting for them - apparently. Because it was now Jack who was waiting while everyone was screaming and what not around him.. it was horrible. “God no,” Jack was appalled someone actually thought he looked like he wanted to be a part of those shenanigans - all he wanted was to get high and drink while Fairytale of New York was playing somewhere. Though judging by all the Mariah Carey’s and Frank Sinatra’s, that would not be the case tonight. “Aren’t you a bit too old for playing carnival games anyway?”

“Then you haven’t really encountered a lot of psycho exes.” Bea argued back, even if none of it really was done in malice. She simply liked to argue, push things to their limites, to see how far she could get. After all, that was one of the many reasons why she was in here in the first place. “He sounds like a decent guy already. Maybe I should date him, so I can become the psycho ex.” Bea mused out loud, because with her, nothing really was off the table. It made life just a little more fun, after all. “Nothing would surprise me with Russians, you’re right. It’s probably just a fancier name for a bar anyway.” Still, if she had the money, Bea would probably consider opening a place like that. Why not? She could get drunk non stop, and it would probably be as entertaining as her current job. “Now you’re talking. Where’s the fun in a life with no chaos or mix ups? That’s way too boring.”

          “I don’t do exes, love.” The ever so small smirk all of a sudden was gracing their features dangerously threatening to grow bigger. “You should date him, he ain’t so bad.. has the bar, a club, all you need to have fun,” winking at the woman, Jack could admit that this encounter was becoming more entertaining with every passing second. Whether it was his pure boredom or the spontaneity, it was fun. “But it’s not a bad idea, is it? Jack,” they introduced themselves as they were taking down a bottle of Absolut vodka from the shelf, “vodka as promised.” Grabbing two glasses from behind him, Jack put the them on the bar counter and started pouring vodka in. “I hear ya, I do,” nodding, he poured the vodka in both glasses and threw in a couple of ice cubes, “life is too short to be wasted on boring stuff. So,” pushing the full glass to her, “what is that you do, love? Except of raiding other people’s bars.”

☆ﾟ*·ﾟRAISING HIS EYEBROWS, Adi looked at the man next to him questioningly. He cared quite a bit about everyone’s feelings, probably more than he should. “I mean, I care more than I should, but if you don’t, that’s alright. Your life is your life, who am I to judge?”  Tilting his head to the side, he found himself now curious. “You’re in a bad? What kind of music?” Adi shrugged his shoulders. “I do own a car, but sometimes you need a break from the traffic in this city. It can get a bit insane.”

         “Punk rock.” Not Jack’s favorite, but he had no problem playing it considering Rhett was just as talented as Jack was. Not that they would ever admit to Rhett that, but it was the fuckin’ truth. “But I write my own music too, more similar to Cohen and Cave, bits of Mark Lanegan too. Know them?” There was nothing Jack loved more than just to play the guitar until he would find that particular sound he loved. It was music that was saving them. “Yeah, don’t have one, but could fuckin’ use one.” Shrugging, they fixed up their sunglasses on their nose.

☆ﾟ*·ﾟSHRUGGING HIS SHOULDERS, Adi didn’t really know what was up with people, because even on his way over here, people were nothing but rude, trying to push him out of the way. “I’ve been asking myself that all morning, so I truly am sorry for being in your space.” Letting his whole body sink down, he took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. “Yeah, I understand that. Life is absolutely ridiculous. And people don’t care about your feelings half the time.” Shaking he head, he looked up at the sun. “Nah, I needed the walk and sunshine. I spent far too much of time inside.” 

         Jack gave the guy a rather strange look. What the fuck was happening, was Jack all of a sudden a psychologist? Fuck it, they would be a psychiatrist in a heartbeat considering then they would have an access to all kinds of fucked up pills - for free. “Who the fuck cares about anyone’s feelings?” Jack didn’t. Jack could never. Well, Jack cared about himself, that was true. No one else but themselves - and music. “Fuck, I’m late for my band practice.” There was a high possibility they wouldn’t even come, which was not such a bad thing considering Jack didn’t need any practice. Not in their mind, at least. “You really didn’t come by car? You fuckin’ look like you own one.”

“Then we’ll be at it until the end of times.” Bea be damned if she gave in and revealed that she really wasn’t supposed to be here. First rule, after all, was not to accept any kind of guilt, after all, and it was her strategy every single time she was caught- bullshit her way out. The fact that she had a plan was probably not a good sign. “Do I look like a psycho ex? I like to think of myself as the kind of ex they either hate or can’t get over. Or both.” Bea insisted, and if her list of exes was right, then was doing the right things to create that reputation. “I’ll be a friend of Jordan’s if his friend is offering me free vodka.” Whatever it took to make sure that police wasn’t being called, really. “What are the odds that vodka kitchen would be a lot more popular than soup kitchen if it did end up happening? Someone could take that idea and earn.. well, thousands, at best.”

           “You fall into the psycho ex category.” He could have added too, but decided against, just for the pure fun of it. Besides, this whole situation was fuckin’ hilarious to Jack considering the girl was raving through the liquor cabinet. “Free vodka, sure. It’s on Jordan, anyway.” One of Jack’s biggest talents was the fact they could get away with all kind of crazy shit quite easily - from ending up behind the bars for possession all the way to offering lots of drinks to unknown girls on the house. Jack simply didn’t care about anything except of music. “Wouldn’t be surprised if Russians have already patented that kind of shit,” Jack chuckled upon the thought, “but I know it would be more fun than a soup kitchen for sure. Though,” motioning to her to follow him, “this would not happen again, and where’s the fuckin' fun in that?”

for: @jackhuxley· location: a bar somewhere in brooklyn

“You’re being dull, come and dance!” A sentence Sunny never thought would leave her lips as she raced over to where her cousin was sat at the bar. Honestly, she was a little buzzed, not entirely aware of what was going on —- so him stopping for even a minute would have looked dull to her right about now. Around her the lights were bright and sparkling, leaving her a little dazed whenever a spotlight landed in her line of sight. “Come onnnn…”

          Raising their brows, Jack gave Sunny a look, if that could even be considered as a look because they were more concerned with drinking their beer and discussing the latest Bruce Springsteen album with some randoms at the bar. “No.” Jack replied quite simply, not even being bothered to go dancing. Playing music, of course, but dancing.. not tonight. “What the fuck have you been drinkin’? It’s not even ten pm, Sun.”

“You pronounce enhancing really fucking weird you know.” Rylan grinned lazily as she sat down next to him, tipping her head back in an attempt together a few of the final sun rays of the year - being that they were few and far between these days. Snow would no doubt come soon which was a depressing thought, but an excuse to stay inside at least, so maybe that was a plus. “You never give a fuck, I’m just keeping you up to date that’s all.” Scoffing as he spoke of taking one to know one, wishing she could know he was speaking the truth because that would at least mean she’d had a good night the night before. A big night. At the very least a drunk night. Instead of one where she’d gone to a drinks party for a designer she didn’t really care about where she pretended to sip champagne, gone home and watched television with Nate, and then gone to bed…sober. Stone cold sober. Being offered a cigarette she wavered for a second so close to accepting it from him since no one else was there, but then Rhett’s words from the other night rang loudly in her ears and guilt took over. “Nah, I’m okay. Trying to give up.” The brunette muttered begrudgingly.

            That was unexpected. “You trying to give up? What, is today April Fool’s Day, Pratt?” Snorting, he put the pack of cigarettes back into his jacket. “More for me then.” They didn’t know what Rylan’s reason behind her decision was, but they knew they didn’t trust he at all. Rylan was too deep, he had seen her too many times going off the rails. They all did. Rhett was fucked up, Rylan was no better - just like Jack. “Giving up on the cigarettes.. weed is healthier, true that. You know,” he suddenly remembered, “I got a fucking opium seeds back at home. All natural, darling, if that’s what you want. You can come over later or even better, throw a party. We all have fun.” Taking their phone out, they frowned at the number of missed calls, but as if they even cared. Rhett knew Jack never came to anything on time, they never would - what the fuck was he even calling them now? “You okay, Pratt? You kind of don’t look like yourself.” 

After chasing Dodger and Oliver around the park (yes, her cat went on walks too), Luna was just trying to catch her breath and keep tight grip on their leashes. All of her attention had been on her animals and making sure they didn’t cause too much mischief that she had mostly ignored the man on the bench, assuming he was either napping or passed out. When he spoke it startled Luna, nearly causing her to release the leashes. “Damn, I’m sorry. Wasn’t sure you were even alive under there,” she mused breathlessly, ushering her pets and herself out of the way. “You know, if you’re trying to get a tan you might have more luck at Coney Island.”

               “Unfortunately, I’m alive.” Has someone put a sign over him that said he was up for talking? What the fuck was that? Why the hell everyone wanted to seat next to him? Jack looked like rubbish, not to mention he felt like one. Though it was certain they were rubbish. “Coney Island is too far and I’m too fucked up to move from this bench, you all clearly love so much,” the last part they uttered under their breath before pushing their glasses up onto their head. Was he seriously that fucked up or? “Tell me you see a dog and a cat running around together. What the fuck? That’s real, right?”

“I asked first.” Confidence, at times, was the only way to get out of situations like this one, and Bea would be damned if she did not do exactly that. Not that she needed that right now, really, not by the looks of things. “Who the hell is Jordan?” The implication left her curious, and, straightening up, Bea was immediately sold at the offer of vodka. Police wasn’t being called, she wasn’t being yelled at, there was alcohol and a chance at an interesting story? “How about you tell me a story about Jordan over that vodka, tell me why you’re here, and then I’ll get to torture that poor bastard anyway?”

           “I chose not to reply first.” Putting his hands into the pockets of his jeans, Jack was damned if he knew what the hell was going on now. “Jordan is the owner?” Fuck his drinking and forgetting people’s faces. “You’re not that psycho ex of his? Well, I could have sworn you are.” Turning around on his feet, Jack motioned to the woman to follow him to the bar. Being there almost every day, it would be an understatement Jack wasn’t feeling like at him - they were at home. Quickly, they grabbed a vodka bottle and two glasses. “I’m here because Jordan is my friend,” someone Jack was using to get free alcohol, but details.. “but why the hell are you here? This ain’t a soup kitchen. Or a vodka kitchen.”

“Blocking or improving?” Rylan shot back quickly as she stood in front of the sun that was shining low in the November sky, hands on her hips as she eyed Jack. Knowing full well they were meant to be with Rhett right now but … well she and Rhett was still pissed at each other so she was hardly going to be the one to nudge Jack in that direction to stop them being even later. Sitting down next to them so she could innocently breath in the second hand cigarette smoke without being accused of anything because the two were friends after all, she crossed her arms across her chest. “You really think you don’t look like shit even while trying to hide your eyes under those pink monstrosities? Your skin looks like it’s made of … damp wax.” The model grinned. “You forget i’m a pro at the signs.”

        “Blocking, Pratt.” Jack was quick to answer while their heart ever so slightly dropped upon noticing she took a seat by his side. What was that? Did Rhett send her to go get him? Nah, even he wouldn’t do that. “I know I look like shit, I don’t give a fuck.” The fuckin’ nightmare of a night, they thought to themselves, from one drink to dozen of drinks in a second. They didn’t even know where they slept, which was not particularly new for them, but still, it was a fucked up situation. “Takes one to know one.” Opening his eyes - finally, Jack noticed Rylan was acting strange as he took. a drag. Was she getting closer to him? “What the fuck are you doing? Jesus,” taking out a pack of cigarette from his jacket, Jack offered one to her. “All you need to do is ask, Rylan.”

Fuck: Allegra, marry: Beatriz, kiss: Kelsey. 

I’m way too good to be available to only one person.. call it my personal gift to the world. 

Beatriz, Rylan and me, myself & I. Look, can’t argue against the facts.

Led Zeppelin, for sure.