whiskey in a teacup.

—   another red heart taken by the american dream.

backstory.     statistics.     connections.     pinterest.

Bash hadn’t seen Lori in a while— which for them,  was weird. He was used to her spending the night at his house, in his guest room, them making breakfast and going to the lake to hangout or maybe a quick horse ride around the ranch. Obviously, things had changed between them though. They’d become distant since they flew too close to the sun— too close to the warmth that might’ve been the feelings between them coming to fruition. Unfortunately, the universe had other plans, plans that involved exes coming back into the picture and shaking their lives up. He hadn’t even gone to see Savannah yet. He hadn’t figured out if he even wanted to talk about the lives she lived and all the things he’d missed out on in her life. 

Not having Lori to talk to about Savannah— or at least to commiserate with her, even  if there was limited talking. All he could now that he’s pretty sure they are ignoring each other was to was stroll into Lori’s diner and maybe just sit there waiting for her to decide enough was enough of the ignoring thing. He’s half-tempted too. But when he comes through the familiar doors and the host asks if he wants his usual seat, he gives her a ‘thanks but no thanks’ before heading to the counter where he could clearly see Lori from behind. “Think we hit a record yet? Least amount of shit you’ve said to me since we met? Or are we going for longer?” It’s pathetic, he knows, but he’s tired of stepping on eggshells. “Got a minute for someone you used to know? — You owe me a fry.”

It’s not that she was ignoring Bash out of spite. When it came to him, all of her selfishness often went out the window. She was simply avoiding a world of hurt, a hurt she knew she wouldn’t be able to come back from unscathed. But the avoidance can only last so long, especially once he’s strolling into the diner and leaning over the counter, speaking to her. She sends him a roll of her eyes, a smirk gracing her mouth. 

“You miss me, tiger?” The woman questions teasingly, grabbing a few dirty plates she needed to attend to, placing them near where the dishwasher can reach them. “It’s kinda fun, though, right?” It wasn’t, not even a little bit, but perhaps her guard was up. “It’s like we’re playing Russian roulette and we keep shooting blanks.” The brunette then removes her apron, setting it down beneath the counter. She’ll come back for it later when her break ends. 

“I’m takin’ my dinner break, Lenny! Put some fries in, please!” She calls out to the cook in the back. Lenny will then prompt report to their assistant manager while Lorianne is having her dinner. Or, well, speaking to her not-so-lover. 

Montana was heating up and Lorianne could feel it on her skin, her body warming inside her little work uniform. It had been a long day of serving diner patrons and Great Falls natives alike. Thankfully, she’s got some tips to fall back on. Perhaps her customers could tell she was feeling down these days and decided that tipping her a bit more would suffice for her hurt feelings. It doesn’t quite help but she appreciates the sentiment regardless.

He wasn’t surprised that his parents had put him to work as soon as they could. It started off with small things, “Dalton, the sink in the kitchen is a bit weak.”, “Dalton, the lights in our bedroom tend to flicker.”, “Dalton, the roof needs re-tiling.” It wasn’t that he wasn’t happy to help (he was, of course he was, he’d do anything for them), it was that he had a feeling they were just trying to find him things to do to keep him around for longer. 

Today it was “Dalton dear, we would appreciate it if you fixed up our yard. It became quite overgrown.” So there he was, sweaty and dirty under the beating sun, his mother’s sun hat strapped on his head, cursing his way all the way to the front door to deal with whoever was trying to break it down with their knocks. 

He swung it open with a scowl, only to have his eyes widen in surprise. Before he could get a word in, however, Lori had already begun tearing at him. He raised a brow as he leaned against the door frame, tugging off his gardening gloves and smirking in a mildly patronizing way. 

“Hello to you too. Thank you for trying to break my parents door. Yet another thing they’d like me to fix.” He mused, giving her a quick once over. “So let me get this straight? You’re angry that I’m not angry? Is that it?” In truth, he had been angry. He’d been angry and hurt for so long… but after a few years he was tired of being angry. He scoffed and tossed aside his gloves. “Lori, I’m only going to be here a few weeks. Two months at the most. What difference would it make if I were angry or not? If anything, I’ll be a blip and you can pretend I don’t exist after I leave again.” 

In an instant, Lorianne knows she’s messed up. But she was so frustrated, so upset at the current state of her life. But who was she to blame, really? Only she had control of her own fate and she knew that well enough but was too stubborn to admit it. So, here she was, falling victim to all of her more misery-fueled impulses. 

“Yes. No - I’m just -” She blabbers out, obviously at a loss. And she hates how weak she must look now, suddenly in need of him. The only way she can feel okay is if he was angry at her, angry at their situation, angry about Josh. Was she truly harboring this much guilt? She hadn’t noticed until this very moment, but she was deeply guilty, and it showed in ways she never expected, increasing her usual harshness. “So you are angry?” Lori questions then, her eyes darting from the ground and to his face. She surveys Dalton’s expression, attempting to locate an answer there, yet nothing comes.

At least it’s Sunday was Lorianne’s mantra throughout the entire day. At least it’s Sunday, at least it’s Sunday, she says over and over again inside her mind, hoping it might ease her nerves. She’s been endlessly anxious these days and the prospect alone has killed her. She was once a firecracker, this town’s cool girl. And now she was just another somebody, falling victim to her hidden insecurities and sorrows. 

open to: anyone location: the griffith

it was close to last call. matias had graciously sent home both of his bartenders so they could go home and enjoy the rest of their night while he attended to the lingers patrons and paperwork thereafter. surprisingly he heard the bells above the door jingle, indicating someone had walked into the pub. grabbing a small square napkin, the man met the patron at the bar. “what’s your poison?” he asked, placing the napkin in front of them. “also we’re closing soon. just a heads up.”

Drinking wasn’t the answer, she knew that, but it was so simple. So easily obtainable in a world where everything feels like too much to handle. And, with that, the Griffith becomes like a second home. Even as late as it was, she needed a drink, something to cloud her scattered mind. 

Bash seethes frustration underneath the surface at the mess that he’s made. He certainly made a mess of things but he didn’t ever want Lori and him to be at each other’s throats about it. The pair had had plenty to bicker about over the years but this– this was different. This was real and honest and God, it made him feel uncomfortable. After years of fighting to not have this conversation, Bash is ready to side-step it once again. Say what he means? That’s out of the question. Clearly, everything was already blowing up in his face. “I am saying what I mean,” he tries to fight, however, it’s a weak attempt, if anything.

Recapping the night in his head, he thinks about the kiss that he’d had with Lori. Playful and subtle, enjoying their time in a photo booth, leaving photo proof that it had happened. The subtle fluttering of his heart hadn’t been indicative enough apparently.  He doesn’t say anything though and maybe that’s what he means to say: nothing. Maybe it’s better that way. But as she approaches him, her touch warming his skin– Bash is losing resolve in the idea that maybe they shouldn’t be anything more than what they are now. He’s also losing the frustration or the worried thoughts he’d had about Lori and Dalton. Albeit, he’s sure that as soon as she steps away those thoughts will come crawling back. 

“Look–” he starts, finally finding the resolve to say anything at all. “I know that I fucked up. I shouldn’t have kissed you and expected you to just be okay with not saying a word about it– again. I just know,” he pauses, his own hand reaching up to linger on her cheekbone and sweep away a stray piece of hair. “– that I don’t want to get in over our heels and end up not being… friends anymore,” he nods, his voice soft but definite. “And with Sav back in town, I won’t lie to you, it’s got me all kinds of messed up. So while I’d love to sit here and tell you that me and you– we’ll get our shit together now, I can’t. Maybe if she hadn’t shown up last night of all possible nights, things would be different.” Whether or not he has feelings for Savannah in the same ways that he used to remained to be seen but he wasn’t looking to promise Lori anything when he was still trying to emerge from the shock that was still dumbfounding him. 

Pain. It’s all she can feel in this moment. Endless pain. The kind of pain that you couldn’t simply ignore. No, this was the pain most people wrote about and cited as the worst thing they’ve ever encountered. It stung, it burned, it ached, all deep within her suddenly fragile body. And, yet, Lorianne remains upright. She keeps her stance before him as steady as she can manage, looking into the eyes of the man she felt so much for. 

“Okay.” Is all she can manage now, her head nodding. Her voice, by some miracle, does not betray her this time. It was steady, unwavering in the wake of her sudden internal realization. And the realization was that this hurt so much more than she anticipated. Bash was supposed to be her friend, not the man who she wanted to be with at every turn. That prospect was meant for another, someone she’s made up in her head long ago. But the more she gets a look at this fictional man, the more he looks like Bash. “Okay, I understand.” She continues, taking in a deep breath after she speaks. She tries not to get wrapped up in his touch, knowing that his fingertips on her cheek alone might make her melt under the pressure once more. As she always did. 

𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘴𝘬𝘦𝘺 𝘪𝘯 𝘢 𝘵𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘶𝘱, a lorianne abrams playlist.

          I.  american teenager by ethel cain.   II.  sidelines by phoebe bridgers.   III.  an ego thing by lizzy mcalpine.   IV.  coolest fucking bitch in town by haley blais.   V.  montana by daya.   VI.  merry go ‘round by kacey musgraves.   VII.  what else can she do by kaitlin butts.   VIII.  anywhere by madison cunningham.   IX.  first train home by imogen heap.   X.  wish u were here by pale waves.   XI.  the bus song by jay som.   XII.  autopilot by allison ponthier.   XIII.  miserable by kacey musgraves.   XIV.  desperado by samina.   XV.  lost track by haim.   XVI.  before growing old by keaton henson.   XVII.  you asked for this by halsey.

At times, harshness was all Lorianne really knew. It was her response to most things and it came about like clockwork. It was by some miracle that she didn’t slap Dalton right across the face at the county fair. And he didn’t deserve such treatment, especially when he was being so kind, as if she wasn’t the one who cut contact. As if she wasn’t the one who stopped calling.

But then there’s this: she was deeply protective. Of herself and of the ones she loves. She was feeling threatened, on edge, fearful that Dalton had some hidden motive that she simply couldn’t pinpoint. So, she arrives with a strange vengeance, aggressively knocking at the door of his residence. When he does finally answer, she cuts right to the chase. Lori Abrams has never been a patient woman.

“You’d be surprised how much I get that.” Sawyer shrugged, before looking back down at her laptop and scanning through the newly opened email. “No, but I’m about to go wake him up. Unless you’re going to make breakfast.” Sawyer said before grabbing her to go coffee cup that she got after the gym – She hated homemade coffee, probably because she didn’t ever feel like brewing a pot. Even in a town like Great Falls, a Starbucks was bound to be around somewhere – which so happened to be right beside the yoga studio she was a member at. “I don’t cook.”

After a moment of silence, she sighed before shutting her laptop and looking back up at Lori. “Okay, what’s the deal between you two?” Sawyer liked the idea of Lori and her brother together – if she made him happy, then who cares – Anything to help him move on from Savannah. “You’ve spent the night nearly every night this week – which is whatever, because he isn’t an ass in the mornings when you’re here.” She smirked before leaning back in the kitchen chair she sat in.

A strange kind of fight or flight response is triggered within Lorianne. She thinks to flee, to simply wave Sawyer goodbye and go about her day. But she knows that’ll be even more suspicious that just answering her question. And it’s a simple question, really, as simple as anything can be. Yet, Lori doesn’t have an answer. When it came to Bash, there was no real answer.

So, all she can do is purse her lips in thought and shrug. For a moment, she reverts back to the topic of breakfast. “I can make you some eggs. You want eggs?” The woman questions, circling back towards the fridge. She opens the door and plucks out the carton of eggs she bought for the house. The carton is set down onto the counter before Lori moves to look for a pan. She finds one in a cabinet just beneath the sink and she’s quick to carefully place it on top of the stove. “Scrambled?” The woman asks, turning to look at Sawyer once more. 

brody resisted the urge to roll his eyes but instead let out a strenuous sigh. “im not trying to be nice but a decent human being,” the man told her. “something i hope you learned to be over the years.” to say brody still held a grudge was an understatement. there were times when he was training that he’d think about lori abandoning their friendship and he’d almost punch a hole in the bag. the girl was his saving grace. while his parents made him feel unworthy of anything, lori’s friendship was a light at the end of his miserable tunnel. to watch her ignore him and pretend they hadn’t shared so much just to hit in with the same people who’d kick him while he was down was excoriating. 

“so you’d prefer to be in the show lost than face whatever it is that is bothering you?” brody questioned with a tilt of his head. “seems a bit morbid.”

A decent human being. Brody was just that, it seems, a decent human being. And Lorianne was not. Perhaps she was somewhere down the middle, settling in the gray area of the “decent humans” spectrum. She had her moments, that much was certain, but most of the time she was downright rotten. Brody might have known that more than anyone. 

There’s a sudden stop of breath between Lori and Bash. She’d never said something about their kiss out loud, let alone admitted that she wanted him to kiss her all the time. God, he’d definitely fucked this one up. He hadn’t thought that the kisses had meant anything to her and that’s why there was never a conversation. Now, he’s wondering how they could’ve ever avoided this conversation. There’s been all this tension built up and they’ve been ignoring it– ignoring it just to live in their past miseries. 

“So,” he starts, his eyebrows raising to the sky, turning his gaze on Lori. “You wanted to kiss me but you’re pissed that I wasn’t planning on talking about said kiss? That’s what we’re upset about?” he huffs, blown away at his own stupidity. “I didn’t mean for it to make you upset, Lor.” He should’ve known his own feelings weren’t astray. He should’ve known that Lori felt the same thing he did when they were around each other – safety. Although he’s never known if the safety was a good thing or if it was just dependency. 

“I don’t know. – You said he hugged you, I didn’t know what that meant to you. I mean you obviously missed him,” he shrugs. But then again, who was he to tell the world what fate was to bring either of them. Apparently, the fair was going to be a ghosts of the past fiesta for the pair. Savannah seemingly was a different story than Dalton though. Dalton was somewhat of a fling, yet another person she was bonded to thanks to Josh. He was Bash but far closer to Josh than he ever was. Obviously, that would give him an advantage. “I don’t know. I talked to her all of five minutes at the fair. She’s just gonna… be around I guess. Probably the same as Dalton right?”

Again, Lorianne finds herself attempting to bury her sudden expectations. At her confession, she hoped Bash would act on them. Inside her mind, she had pictured him racing towards her and kissing her just as he did the previous night but deeper. But, to her dismay, this wasn’t a romance novel. This was real life and they were both being faced with ghosts of their past and unscathed stubbornness. 

A groan sounds from her, her hands reaching up to run over her face. “Jesus Christ, just forget it, Bash.” She says, turning away from him again. Lori grabs her mug from the kitchen table and makes her way to the sink, dumping the contents of her cup out. She turns the sink on soon after, watching as the liquid all travels down the drain. “You don’t have to treat me like I’m fragile. Say what you fucking mean for once.” Her head shakes, “I’m not pissed about anything but I’m about to be if you don’t be honest with me and yourself.” But, who was she to speak? She wasn’t even sure where her honesty lies anymore. It was all lost in translation by now. 

Once Bash is speaking again, Lori listens intently, moving her body to face him just as before. Silence soon envelopes them again and Lorianne allows her mind to wander. What does she say now? Does she simply nod and lay the whole thing to rest? Her eyes survey their surroundings, her bottom lip being pulled between her teeth as her thoughts continue to brew.

Buck was just getting up, giving him some time to sleep in considering the hangover he was now having to nurse. It sucked getting old. He was pouring himself some coffee when he heard a knock at the door, slowly making his way to the front door. 

Opening the door to a familiar face, he was about to tell her that he didn’t know where Liza was, but then she asked if she could talk to him. “Yeah, guess so.” He said, moving out of the way to let her in, “Am I in trouble?” He couldn’t think of anything he particularly did that could qualify as that but then again, he didn’t remember much. “Because I swear I was really good at the fair.” 

A laugh escapes Lorianne as she’s walking inside, one hand reaching up to swat the air. “No, you’re not in trouble. Trust me, you’d know if you were in trouble with me, cowboy.” The woman replies teasingly, taking a seat at the kitchen table. 

it seemed the griffith was brody’s go to place. it was managed by someone who didn’t go to great falls high (or the rival school). brody had made slight friends with the man through casual conversations and buying cannabis off of him as well. whenever brody had down time and he was sick of being confined to his apartment, he’d walk down to the griffith and have a drink, maybe play some pool against a shmuck who thought they could beat him and dabble in beer pong as well. this night, brody simply wanted to enjoy a few beers while watching re-runs of old football games as sports announcers talked about the upcoming season.

brody hadn’t really been paying attention to those around him; you could say he had blinders on when he stepped out of his house. it wasn’t until he heard what sounded like someone crying. scanning the room he realized the culprit was the woman sitting two seats down. a woman he knew very well. 

he wanted to leave. everything told him to put down his cash and get the hell out of dodge. another voice stopped him; he could never just leave a crying woman. “fuck,” he mumbled to himself with a brief eye roll. moving from his seat, brody sat next to lori, not looking at her. “d’you wanna talk about it?”

if his younger self saw him giving sympathy to lori, he’d try to kick his own ass. lori had abandoned him when they were younger. she didn’t deserve his side eye.

Watching Brody engage with her was like stepping into a strange nightmare, one that she couldn’t wake up from. And the nightmares persists, Lorianne suddenly looking into the face of one of her greatest and more prominent mistakes. Once upon a time, she knew Brody well. In fact, they were once inseparable young kids who had their whole lives ahead of them, a life they could have shared side by side. But her obsession with status had swallowed her whole and took him along with it.

Still, her defense was high, her tear-stained face looking at him with confusion settled onto her expression. She watches as he moves toward her, taking the seat beside her. She surveys the side of his face carefully. It was strange how he looked both the same and totally different all at once. He wasn’t the same scrawny kid who she adored before high school hit, but he was in there somewhere. 

open

location: zodiac brewery

Propped up at the bar enjoying his tradition of the after work drink at the Zodiac Brewery, Nico positions himself to signal the bartender once more. Back in his hey day he would’ve already pounded back six beers, three shots, and made out with two different women. However, ever since the accident, he’s been feeling his age far more than before. His body ached in ways they hadn’t before and now he was on his second drink of the night and well, he’s been eyeing someone. Peering to his right at the patron beside him, he gives them a half-assed attempt at a smile. “Wonder if this bartender’s ever heard about caffeine?” he asks, waving a hand at the slow-moving bartender. “Anything? Nothing?” he says before pulling his wallet from his pocket pulling out a hundred dollar bill to hold up and wave around. “I just need a drink– probably for my neighbor too. Maybe the whole bar,” he nods. 

After a tiring shift at the diner, Lorianne was ready to call it a night. But going home didn’t seem like a worthwhile option, not when she had so much on her mind. Between Bash, Savannah, Dalton, and her mother, everything was a damn mess. Her mind was plagued with endless streams of thoughts, thoughts that she simply couldn’t put to rest. So, she heads out, deciding a drink or two mind drown everything that bothers her. 

Seeing Nico at the bar might have been a sign from the universe. Just have some fun, Lori, use this good looking man for his gorgeous body and call it an evening, the universe says, dangling the opportunity in her face. She releases a breath, lifting her head to the sky. “Why is my life like this?” She whispers to herself before heading over to the counter, taking a seat a stool away from him.