The Bitch is Back

             Gabe eyes him for a moment, then turning his direction towards the girl in overalls. “Are you into fashion?” he turns back, arms crossing as he continues to eye him, up and down– disregarding his compliment, if it even was one. “You seem to have a lot of opinions for someone in… what is that, H&M?”

“H&M? No, I actually stole these from Milo’s closet.” Maverick looked down at the mesh shirt he was wearing, paired with leather pants that he knew were way more difficult than they were worth. “I’m pretty sure these were gifted by...I don’t know. He gets free clothes all the time from all the crazy rich people. “And fashion is boring. I just know how to match.”

“Taner?” Maverick was idly rubbing his arms, looking around the tattoo shop for the man in question. He’d made an appointment to touch up the tattoos on his forearms, the ink still covering up ever track mark he’d made throughout his life. He smiled a little when he saw his friend, “Thought you were taking an extended lunch break.”

“Hey, man if that’s how you want to describe me that’s cool but I wouldn’t say there’s much royal about my trashy ass,” Chace countered with soft laughter. “I am tall though – you got that right.” He eyed the other male curiously and then grinned, Chace could never turn down a drink. “Fine, first rounds on me. What will it be?”

“It’s why I made myself change, just wouldn’t want to upstage Brittany.” Her voice dripping in sarcasm, she sent him a quick wink as she brought the beer to her lips. “Oh yeah, my shower curtain is very impressed. Do you think everyone’s drunk enough to witness me up there?”

Her own rude behavior hardly escaped Regina, the Balenciaga bag perched along the bar top successfully blocked out the ordering path of anyone who sought an empty stool beside the model. Strategically placed, of course. Something that the vast majority appeared to comprehend until a figure approached from her periphery. “If you planned on sitting there, I’d reconsider.” Liquid misery swirled around her martini glass as a low, warning voice slipped forth. “Learn to— como se dice? Take a hint.”

Chace let the other guy drunkenly ramble, smirking as he did. “You’re coming across more like a knock-off Santino, which sucks for you,” he quipped. The policeman didn’t often flaunt his Ru Paul knowledge, being that if he did his work colleagues would never let him live it down. “Well thank you, the combination kind of comes with the job,” Chace replied gesturing to his uniform. “Everything okay, man?”

“Well, excuuuuse me!” Bella scoffed, feigning offense at Maverick’s comment, as she set down her drink, taking a second to glance down at her shirt. “Don’t combat boots go with everything?” she asked, as she looked over at him, her brows coming together in mock anger. “Actually, don’t answer that. Cause I can make them go really well with your pretty little ass.” With a wink sent in Maverick’s direction, Bella turned and nodded to the bartender who had taken over her shift, signaling she wanted another round. 

“See, this is why I asked you to come over before I left.” She chuckled over the rim of her own glass, hues only momentarily glancing downwards to inspect the so-called damage of her attire. “It’s all good, man. I don’t really care what I look like tonight, it’s not about impressin’ anybody.” Truly she held no intention of inviting a stranger home or winning them over in any regard, tonight was singularly about spending time with a good friend. “Whatcha drinkin’?”

“Are you, of all people, judging my fashion choices? You’re wearing leather pants again as if you own nothing else. Didn’t we just go shopping the other day? I know you’ve got a pair of jeans. Did Selena tear them up? I know she gets feisty.” Milo only shook his head. There was no way Maverick was talking to him, right? He glanced down at his outfit again. Maybe the shoes could have gone better with the shirt or vice versa. Wait, no. Why was he second-guessing the outfit no? He knew he looked good. “Anyway, I think you’re at best a knockoff version of Alyssa Edwards. Do the tongue pop.”

          He raises a brow, eyes falling to his shirt, then his shoes. “Well, I know I look fine. It’s Dior,” Gabe says, as a matter of fact, not taking any sort of opinion from someone who was clearly not sober. 

“Dior,” Maverick rose an eyebrow, finishing off his drink to keep his mouth busy so he didn’t keep running it. Clearing his throat, he set the glass down, “I mean...I wouldn’t say fine, but you do look better than the girl in the overalls in the corner.”

“I– Okay?” That was it, that’s all she had in terms of an immediate reaction. Would’ve been nice to have a better answer, maybe. Except the caught off guard Mira hadn’t known where to begin with a better response. “I thought that’d be some people’s goal. To be some version of, or the next…insert name here. PS. That didn’t sound convincing at all, but A for effort trying to backtrack.” Clicking her tongue, she added, “You should’ve seen the tattered jeans I was wearing earlier.”

        “Me, myself, and I. I’m too pretty to buy my own shit remember?” It wasn’t that Jamie didn’t have money to blow he just didn’t bother spending it unless he absolutely had to. He grew up poor and knew how hard life without anything in your bank account was. Which meant he tended to live frugally even now that the family business was booming. After all nothing in this world was permanent. “My aura is weird or the fact that I referenced my aura is weird? You have to be more specific Mavvy or you’re just gonna end up upsetting me farther.” Jamie teased playfully slim fingers tucking his phone back into his pocket as dark hues searched the crowd for the bartender in question. “Why bother putting in effort when you look good in anything right? Now..tell me, will Milo mind if I use you for slightly nefarious purposes? I’m sure with the both of us giving Mr. Tall Blonde and Blandsome our undivided attention we could get a free bottle of something out of him instead of one useless drink.”

        “If you don’t buy people drinks and didn’t bring your wallet than who paid for what’s getting you hammered?” More importantly what exactly was Mav drinking that got him intoxicated so quickly because Jamie definitely needed something in his system to distract from the headache currently threatening to ruin his night early. Stupid Brittany. Or was her name Heather? He couldn’t remember but it didn’t matter he certainly wasn’t about to sell to her again. “Did you just call my aura weird? Wow, dude. Fucking harsh. Not to mention rude. Lucky for you I’m in a forgiving mood and I’ll ignore that you insulting my aura and my fashion sense all in the span of two minutes if you tell me what guys you flirted with to get the free drinks. I didn’t bring my wallet either and I’m not about to spend the night sober.”