filthy rich. morally bankrupt.

He’d pulled a late night yesterday, and his body was feeling it. Declan wasn’t eighteen any more, getting home from a party only to roll out of bed three hours later for a lecture. He was an adult, and he had a job, and he didn’t like being bored, so oftentimes he liked his shifts at the Med Center to end nearer to one or two AM. Since it had become part of his routine, so too had frequenting this coffee shop, after the only other two in town let him down with subpar breakfast sandwiches. The dark haired man’s free hand remained tucked in his jeans pocket as he took a gulp of his black coffee, interrupted by the question of a person nearby. They didn’t look like a  serial killer, he supposed, so Declan gamely leans over a bit. “You’d have better luck just choosing a realtor first, and having them send you potential places. It feels freakily like house hunters, but it’s a lot less work on you.” A shrug turns his broad shoulders. “You don’t have to listen to me, but I did move into a town home like three years ago. Worked for me.”

“Oh, I don’t want a house. I was thinking something a little less concrete, like an apartment.” He waved off the idea of a house. Even in D.C. he didn’t own a house, he rented an apartment with all the amenities available to him. They had a gym, rooftop pool, concierge, and even a guest suite for when people had visitors. He lived on the top floor and his apartment was huge, with the greatest views in the city if you asked him. It was gorgeous and there was nothing that was going to compare in Olympus, but he would make due with what he could find. As long as he didn’t have to deal with the hotel anymore, they had awful room service. “Did you move here three years ago?” He asked the man, wondering if he was fairly new to town as well and could give him advice. “I’m Mitchell by the way, pleasure to meet you.” He offered the man his hand to shake if he wanted to and planted a smile on his face. 

Kaya was deciding on appetizers, whether she wanting the blooming onion special or the chicken sticks whatever it was called, when she heard the man beside her speak. His features looked vaguely familiar, but to be fair, the nurse has seen more than enough people over the course of the week to be able to remember them. “Have you tried Ophelia? She’s this realtor on the down-low, knows all the best spots in town. Or if you’re feeling more lucky, you could consider checking out the Community Center. There’s always offers on their corkboard for anyone looking to board. Have you tried looking online too?” 

“No I haven’t tried anyone, I was just trying to search for something online.” He lifted his phone up to the woman and shook it a couple times to show her. “It seems to be cluttered with a lot of advertisements from what I’ve seen and they are for New Orleans, not here.” Mitchell sighed and set down his phone to take another long drink of his latte. “I suppose I’ll check out the community center for open listings, I just want an apartment.” The blonde moved to extend a hand to the woman attempting to help him out. “I’m Mitchell, it’s nice to meet you.” After he said his name he briefly wondered if it was a good idea, if his brother had started to gather people against him. But he shook the feeling off, not willing to let it bother him if he had. Either way, they didn’t know him. 

Her brown eyes were locked on his face as he slowly woke up. He seemed a bit disorientated but she could not blame him after the circumstances of last night and the fact that he woke up in a strange room to him, with someone sitting on the bed next to him who he had only talked to two other days. She carefully poured the coffee from the flask into the empty mug he was holding. She also poured herself some coffee before putting the bottle on her nightstand. She carefully turned on her bed so she could lean against the headboard as well.

“It is around eight thirty. Quite early but after a day like yesterday, I don’t think anyone will blame us for staying here in bed for a little longer.” Liz took a sip of her coffee carefully before placing her mug on the bedside table on her side of the bed. She shifted in her place a little so she could look at the man who had woken up next to her. The smile on her lips just grew slightly at his question. “With the circumstances, we were in, I slept really well.” It had taken quite some time before she had fallen asleep with the heavy wind outside, but eventually, she had fallen asleep. If she remembered it well, she had fallen asleep in his arms and her head resting again just shoulder.

“Even though the night did not go as planned, I did enjoy myself.” She had made that clear by inviting him over, by making out with him and by letting him sleep in her bed. Liz just needed to make sure that he knew it, however. She grabbed her mug again and brought it back to her lips so she could take a sip of the dark liquid again.

“Mmm, early enough.” Especially since he’d been sleeping till ten or later with no real responsibilities in Olympus. Yet, at least. He still wasn’t sure whether he was going to work his way into local politics, get a different job, or just continue living off the funds he had until he was fired or his father stopped paying him. Mitchell had no clue if it was in his best interest to continue in a field he had zero passion for and was only doing because he had no other choice. It was an internal struggle he felt he couldn’t share with anyone. Just as the many things he thought and felt when his brain wasn’t clouded. Sharing it would take off the mask he spent so long working to create and what good would it do in the end? Nothing would change. He would still be stuck and no one would be able to help. 

He got out of his head and smiled softly at the woman beside him. “I’m glad you slept well, darling. I was out like a light rather quickly.” There were many nights he had trouble falling asleep, but last night with Liz was not one of them. Maybe it was because she was there or maybe it was the exhaustion from the day. It could have been a bit of both, but he was grateful for the sleep and the warmth she provided. “We will have to try for another night, have a proper dinner and maybe a movie or a walk around the town.” He offered and sipped the coffee again. “Are you going to work today?” He realized he hadn’t asked her if she had to go somewhere the day after their date. Mitchell rubbed at his face and took another drink of the coffee. “Is the power back on?” He wondered out loud, looking around the room for signs.

Eli’s running late, on account of Riley refusing to get out of bed int he morning (she and TJ both, honestly), so TJ’s got about twenty more minutes of waiting time ahead of him. He’s got a coffee already, desperate for it to wake up properly, and his gaze is glued to his phone, going through the few texts he’s already got this morning, including his older brother’s hesitant congratulations about the new job. “You’re not trying hard enough, then. We’re not that old-fashioned,” TJ replies; his tone isn’t harsh, he tries to sound as friendly as he can. “What are you looking for? House? Apartment? Room?” 

The answer that came wasn’t exactly what he was looking for but the other man seemed like he was willing to help him with his follow up. Mitchell had not looked for an apartment since his college years when he was shoved into the dingy dorms on a dry campus. Even after he joined the fraternity he kept his apartment then as a back up, it was a much nicer place to sleep than on the crappy bed in the frat house. However, he often ended up there anyways after a long night of partying. “I think the most cost effective at this point would be an apartment, I just cannot find listings anywhere.” He answered. “I’ve checked out a few websites I’m used to and then just tried google searching for it but it’s cluttered with sponsored ads. Is there somewhere specific I should look?” He asked the man, showing him his phone from his spot on the chair.

They said the office was ready to go back into. But an hour into the work day the power cut off, which sent everyone back to work at their own homes. Not really wanting to get Remi all riled up that he was home early and attempting to distract him, Ryder made his way to Mama Kay’s. Wondering if Aurora was working that day and he could bother her for one of the better tables; he got there early enough to find the corner table that he preferred - an outlet right beneath his seat, and just out of the way of regular traffic to not be bothered. 

He had been organizing emails while waiting for a proposal to come back from his manager when he heard someone speak beside him. Glancing up, the world went cold when he saw who it was. Mitchell was sitting far too close to him - of course even if he was in Baton Rogue he’d still be too close, but Ryder slid his way across the bench seat of his booth so he was a far away as he could be. Narrowing his eyes at the blonde beside him, Ryder shook his head. “They’re not available because we don’t want you in town.” Grabbing his coffee and taking a long sip he shook his head. “Surprised the tornado didn’t blow you back where you came from.”

Mitchell didn’t expect the answer to come from none other than his little brother. The aggressive response warranted an exasperated sigh and an eyeroll from the older blonde. “I highly doubt that’s why they aren’t available, RJ dear. But, hello to you, too. So good to see you again.” He flashed him a sardonic smile and set his phone on the table. Mitchell intertwined his fingers and used them as a chin rest with his elbows on the table. It still amazed him how his brother kept his fire and aggression even after all these years. His own passion for anything had burned out long ago, right around when he started college. Ever since then he’d just put his effort into chasing the next high and doing whatever he wanted under the guise of his father. 

“I think it’s because your little town here hasn’t caught up to the twenty-first century.” He pointed out and sighed again. “I wish the tornado had blown me anywhere else, but no such luck, little brother. I’m still stuck here with you.” Blue eyes met matching ones and he unclasped his fingers to reach for his coffee and take a drink. Seeing his brother reminded him of the last time he’d talked to him, in his apartment. It popped the idea in his head that maybe he ought to go speak to Ryder’s landlord and get a place there. Then at least he could pretend he was keeping a close eye on him and he’d have a place to settle until he was free of this assignment or his father backed off for good. Neither was likely, he feared but he would at least like to prevent the man from coming to Olympus for any reason.

Chris nods at the younger man’s words, “Yeah, that’s probably best. Just board those windows tight, and you’ll be alright.” He chuckles at the use of the word eloquent; call him uncouth, but the word doesn’t really describe storms. “We’re pretty close to the ocean, so yeah, we’re gonna be some of the storm for sure. That’s how these things go, and just…” He shrugs, seemingly out of ideas on what else to say, beyond giving the kid a quick Geography lesson. After all, Olympus was his birthplace, he’d know it’s geography better than anyone. 

Mitchell nods. “I’ll let Liz know, hopefully she has something to get the windows boarded up and everything locked down then.” He washed his hands and listened to the man explain why the weather was nastier than what he was used to. “Guess I’ll have to get used to all that since I will be here longer than I expected.” The blonde sighed and dried his hands on some paper towels. He really wished he could just go back to Georgia or D.C. and leave this whole pursuit behind him. All of the parties and events he was missing was starting to bother him. “Thanks for the information, I don’t think I got your name.” He extended a clean hand to the man. “I am Mitchell, new in town if you haven’t figured that out already.”

“Eh,” translates loosely to I’ll let you decide for yourself. The guy is chatty, almost too chatty for someone just trying to make polite conversation. But there’s a charm to him, too, something that allows Hallen to remain in his seat.

It makes sense now—he makes sense—when he mentions that he’s in politics. The verbosity, his tempered presence despite Hallen’s lack of any real interest. There’s something so manicured and clean about him, which he supposes is how professional liars are supposed to look when they’re trying not to get caught. Or a force habit; be the lie you want to see in the world, right?

“Where in politics?” he asks, purposefully deflecting the question of how long he’s been in town, but that’s mostly because he’s not too good at talking about himself.

Mitchell raised an eyebrow to the man’s response but quickly shook off the urge to press more with another swallow of his scotch. He already could see that the town didn’t have much to offer and he had yet to meet someone who could hold his attention past a couple of scotches. However, the night was just starting so he still had time and the interesting character in front of him proved there was still hope.

“I’m the chief of staff for a senator.” Mitchell answered honestly but still vague enough to not give away his last name or his father’s name. Eventually the truth would come out and he was fine with that, but he wanted time to work before it got to that point. He wasn’t positive how his first interaction with his brother would go but he was leaning towards it going badly as they hadn’t spoken in over fourteen years. That and he had no clue what the estranged man had said about him or his father to the people in town that knew him. 

“Basically I get all of the things he needs to vote on and hand it out among the staff to analyze and report back so he can make an informed decision.” Which was also part of his job but he never did the grunt work, he left that up to the people he managed. “Then I run around trying to get people on his side and during campaign time try to keep him in his seat. It’s thankless work, but there’s a lot of fun parties and you get to meet a lot of people.”

“So we have stalking and a side of low-stakes political intrigue,” Miriam smirked. Mitchell didn’t know how well she understood better than most the demands that came with being a progeny of a power-hungry patriarch. Except in the Metzger family, she was the one under the watchful eye of an older brother. “You guys should have your own HBO show. I’d watch it.”

Miriam wormed her way out of Mitchell’s grasp. The mini-fridge looked untouched, tiny bottles of liquor lined in perfectly straight rows. Miriam grabbed a shot of tequila, twisting the cap off and tossing it on the desk, losing it among the papers. “Your dad thinks he’s really a threat?” Leaning back against the desk, Miriam threw back the shot, the burn chasing down her throat. “More so than, you know,” she trailed off, tapping the side of her nose with a wink.

“I’m not stalking him, I haven’t even been able to find the kid since I first saw him.” He grumbled, a bit peeved that his brother was hiding from him. Mitchell had a list of places to go looking for him in the coming week, but he’d get to that when he got to it. There was no rush as it seemed from the last time he spoke to his father, that he wanted him to lay low for a few months and things cleared up back in D.C.. Mitchell wasn’t positive what that meant, but he had to assume it had something to do with the last driving under the influence ticket he received a few months before he was sent to Olympus. “My mother already has her own show, I highly doubt she’d be willing to do another.”

Mitchell moves to grab one of his button up shirts when Miriam moves out of his grasp. He leaves it unbuttoned and sits on the bed, his eyes following her around the room. “Guess so, but in Ryder’s defense,” words he hadn’t uttered in at least a couple decades, “our father apparently maimed him for life. So, if the kid wants to get back at our father he has a pretty valid reasoning. Still, I’m here to make sure he doesn’t.” The blonde man shrugged. “I am thoroughly unconvinced that is all I am here for but, there is not much I can do about any of it.” He was positive his father had sent him there because he had gotten his fourth D.U.I. and while he was able to get him out of it again, Mitchell was walking a thin line of being able to continue down the road he was on. Not that he cared as much as he should when he spent most days under the influence which kept him from thinking about much and in a moral grey area that allowed him to do things without feeling much of anything. Even sober he was so far into his lifestyle that he didn’t think he’d be able to feel much of anything about anything. Though hearing what his father had done to Ryder had begun to disturb him, he luckily pushed it away to be felt another day or hopefully, never.

The storm hadn’t affected Mitchell much. It had put a damper on his date with Liz, but the night ended up rounding out well in the grand scheme of things. His brother was avoiding him at every turn, he’d even tried showing up at the Harris House but he was working from home that day. He figured he was making a good enough effort. At least he hadn’t been reprimanded for anything yet. His next task was finding a place to live, since it appeared he would be staying in town longer than he expected. That brought him to the coffee shop, outside on the patio with a latte and his legs crossed. He was trying to find available places on his phone but was struggling to find any accurate listings. A sigh escaped him and he looked up at the person nearby him, a bit frustrated. “Do you know how to find open listings in Olympus? I can’t find anything on the internet.” He wondered if he had to go the old fashioned way and read a newspaper or something.

“Woah woah there, roadrunner, y’er gonna run someone off their track with that speed!” Chris was taking the time to straighten his back and use the men’s room, before he had to head back to the moody generator, that was giving him something of a handache at this point. He was just coming out of one of the stalls when he bumped into the blonde man, his own hands instinctively raised. “Careful there, buddy. You uhh…headin’ out? Weather’s getting pretty bad.” 

A slight chuckle fell from Mitchell’s lips before he could really think about it at the mans words. Strange, the way he was able to catch him so off guard like that. Not a common occurrence for the blonde who was almost always on high alert and extremely guarded. A necessary tactic for survival. “Um, yeah, I mean yes, yes I believe my date and I will be heading back to her house as soon as we get the check.” Mitchell snapped himself out of the momentary shake up. “I have never seen a storm progress so eloquently. Is this common?” The question was something he probably always knew the answer to, but he wanted to hear it from a local. Someone who knew the area much better than he did and hopefully ever would. 

Leave it to the Hart’s to pick out their night out to be the same evening as a fucking storm. Typically date nights were in their own home, take out boxes surrounding them as they were able to have an adult conversation as their baby slept upstairs. Or even better when they had almost two whole nights to themselves as her parents took Eliza for the night. They both loved their baby, starting a family was one of the most important things to both of them, but sometimes you just need time to reconnect. Which is what they were doing tonight - and well. Nature had a different plan. Sutton had been heading back to the bathroom to leave a voicemail for her father saying that Maddox was getting the check and they were heading their way when she collided with someone. Glancing up, Sutton was about to apologize when the man’s mannerisms made her pause. “Uh…no….my apologies,” She tried it out for size and the syllables didn’t sit right on her tongue. “My bad I mean. Shouldn’t really be lookin’ down while I’m walkin around I guess.”

“It happens to the best of us.” He chimed back to the woman, who he was likely keeping from something but he also wanted to take any opportunity to make acquaintances in a town he was not welcome in. At least, not to many he’d met so far. It was a hostile environment. Usually he worked well under those conditions, the political world was as hostile as it came and his family was low-key hostile at best. So, instead of being rude to the woman or brushing her off like another common human in his way, he put on a smile and a concerned look. “Is everything okay? You look like something is wrong.” He paused, looking to the table where his date was waiting for him. “Besides the storm of course, I haven’t seen anything progress so quickly. Are you able to get home? I am leaving soon with Liz over there.” He pointed to the table where she was sitting. “I’d be happy to drop you on the way.” Which he wasn’t happy to do, nor happy about anything in the present situation. But he could fake it, he was good at that. 

Liz watched how the waiter had come over to the table with their bill. “It’s okay with me. The house has already been made storm-proof, so we should be fine there,” she said with a smile to him. At least this way she would not be alone. If he had let her known that he did not want to stay over, she would have asked him to drop her off at Eli and Oliver’s. She was okay with storms, she wasn’t scared of them. She did prefer to have someone around, however. It was always better with someone around in her opinion. The server returned with his credit card again and then nodded. Liz got up from her seat, smoothed the dress she was wearing before she put on her coat. She then looked up at Mitchell, a smile playing on her lips as well as she took the arm that he had offered her, following him out of the restaurant. Ending up stuck at her own place sounded better than getting stuck at Calliope.

Mitchell helped her with her coat, as he should because that was what a gentleman would do. He was doing his best to be on point, though the storm was shaking his nerves a bit. Something that his drug of choice helped with a bit, but not enough. Weirdly, this was a situation where other substances were better and the company of someone he could trust wasn’t out to get him in some way. There were plenty of those in this town, he was sure of it. But, Liz seemed nice, though possibly a touch naive which worked well for him. He brought her towards the doors and out to his car, holding the umbrella as he opened the door for her and moved to the driver’s seat. A smile pulled at his lips and he wiped his hands on a small towel he had in the middle console. He offered it to her after, then started to drive. “Do storms make you nervous? You look lovely tonight, if I haven’t told you already.” He headed out into the turmoil, driving careful towards her house. 

Mitchell was enjoying his date with Liz Stone so far. He just wished it had been on a night they’d be able to eat their food slowly, talk a bit more, and have a few drinks after. Unfortunately the weather did not agree with the night they’d chosen and they were forced to order fast to get food before they were inevitably forced to leave and seek proper shelter. Mitchell excused himself from their table after they ordered their food and moved to the bathroom to powder his nose. Once he was done, he washed his hands and spent several minutes fixing his hair in the mirror. The humidity was making his curls pop out randomly and make all the work he took smoothing it back look a bit frizzy and disheveled. He left the bathroom with a sigh. His hair was as good as it was going to get without a product that he didn’t have with him. He rounded the corner and bumped into someone. “My apologies, I wasn’t watching where I was going.” He stated immediately, though he wanted to blame them for the occurrence.

You could say a lot about the night, but Liz was pretty sure that it was such an original first date, she was never going to have one like this before. The blonde chuckled at his words and nodded in agreement. Luckily enough he agreed with her that they indeed should get out of there and she watched the other people in the restaurant. Some people seemed just as nervous as she was feeling about this weather, others were still continuing their night as if there was no storm about the start happening outside. Her gaze found the man on the other side of the table again.

For a moment Liz was more nervous about asking Mitchell this question than the weather. But to have a date of just thirty minutes was rather short and she had enjoyed herself so far. “So I’m usually not the one to ask someone over after a first date but I think these circumstances are a bit different. Do you want to stay over until the storm has passed and you can return home safely?” Also, the last thing that she wanted to be guilty of was to send him back into the storm after dropping her off back home. Her house was just a five-minute drive away from the restaurant, so that was a rather - hopefully - safe distance.

Mitchell raised an eyebrow at her question. He paused to scan the waiter and place his credit card inside the bill book and hand it back to the man to run. Once the server had moved away, he turned to answer Liz. It wasn’t anyone else’s business what they were going to do for the night. “If that’s okay with you, I wouldn’t mind some company while this storm plays out.” He commented. It would at least be good to not be alone in a hotel room since he still hadn’t found a proper place to live. If he was being honest he hadn’t even looked with any kind of purpose. He didn’t like the idea of putting in that kind of work. Maybe Liz would help him. That was an idea. The server brought back his slip to sign and card. He did it quick and put the card back into his wallet. “Why don’t we get out of here before we end up stuck here all night.” He stood and offered his arm to the woman with a smile.