kaplan

“I don’t know,” she tapped a manicured finger against the lid of her coffee cup. “Guess you’ll just have to buy it and find out, won’t you?” She was calling his bluff and challenging him at the same time. She imagined playing house with him on a fancy boat would be just as fun as playing the role of his girlfriend on land. Not that, they made anything official between them yet. But, Liv at least hoped Adem was thinking of her in that way because then it meant her plan was working.

At the same time…. what Adem revealed next gave Liv another idea to think about. Maybe conning him out of his trust fund and breaking his heart in the process wouldn’t be necessary. So long as she lands the role of his girlfriend and sells it in front of his father, Supervillian Kaplan will pay her off to skip town and poor Adem would be spared. She might still break his heart but at least he won’t be heartbroken AND poor.

“On second thought, maybe it’s not the brightest idea to piss off your father. I want your parents to like me.” Half of the battle was winning them over, the other half was meeting them. And right now, Liv had no idea how close she was to either. But, she hoped by showing an interest in impressing them, he might see her as someone worthy of bringing home to give it a try. “I mean, unless you don’t see this possibly going there….? For all I know, we could just be having fun. In which case, I guess that’s cool too.”

-

“What?” Adem’s expression went from excited to disappointed. He didn’t want to ditch the idea of sailing around on a monster yacht with her in a bikini. He couldn’t care less about what his father wanted. If he did, he would have put more effort into the family business and less into his debauchery. If his father could go back in time and have another son, he was sure he’d throw him overboard. Adem had so much potential growing up. He was insanely smart and creative, but he squandered it all on drugs and parties. 

“No. I mean, I, uhm..” He wasn’t sure how he felt about them moving forward. He never had a real girlfriend before. Not one that could last for very long anyway. If his father didn’t drive them away then all of his partying did. That’s what he likes about Olivia. She was more like him and less like the debutantes his mother tries to set him up with. If he has to go on one more date with some little Miss Priss, he would blow his head off. “Like that’s something you want? You want to meet my parents? I’m open to it. I think you’re amazing and we have so much fun together. I just know how they are.” He wasn’t sure how serious they were either. It’s not like he put the brakes on making out with other girls. This would probably be a good time to establish all that. “Do you want to be my girlfriend, Liv? Officially?” 

location: hotel (you could have attended the party or maybe you're at the hotel for different reasons)

“Ugh.” Last night’s hotel party was rough. Adem drank way more than he should have and made out with more people than he knew there. He should have taken it easy considering he has work this morning, but that’s what coke is for —and coffee. “Yo, can someone put on a pot?! My head is killing me.” While most people decided to stay asleep or leave the room, Adem ventured out to the lobby to see what he could find. "Hey, you. Coffee. Do you know where they're hiding the complimentary shit? I mean... who do I have to fuck for a coffee and biscuit."

“Dude, you’d totally live on it. But, then again so would I.” For the past couple of weeks, Olivia and Adem have been seeing each other. And by that, she means hooking up. A little make out here, a little groping there… and before they knew it… all clothes and likewise, all bets were off. The rapport and bond between them was growing, much to Liv’s BFF’s dismay. Not that Adem OR Stella knew Liv’s true intentions behind it all. If they did, she’s not so sure either would be thrilled or happy with her. Especially Adem though. “Isn’t your family like, super rich? If you want a yacht, buy a fucking yacht. As cliche as it sounds, we only live once. Might as well make the most of it.”

-

“So you’re saying hypothetically if you had one, you would live on it? Or are you saying if I buy a yacht, you’ll play house with me and move in?” He chuckled, letting his imagination run wild. He would be on board with the idea of her cooking him breakfast in her underwear while he channel surfs in bed. That’s the fantasy for every man, isn’t it? Bag a beautiful girl and live in paradise. 

Yet— his father would never go for it. Adem might be twenty-five, but his father was the one controlling his life. He could make things really hard on his son if he wanted to. “Yeah, my family is super rich. By extension, that makes me a baller, you’re right. But my father is basically a supervillain. He’s super into Greek mythology and considers me lucky that I’m not bound to a stone and being fed on by a giant bird. If he knew I liked someone, he’d probably pay them off to stay away from me. Then they could buy their own yacht.” He was beating around the bush, not ready to tell her that she’s the one he’s referring to. She’s been more fun than he expected and he could see them getting way more serious. “But you’re right. YOLO, huh? If it’ll get you in a bikini it’ll be worth it.” 

It was a good day to spend outdoors, she appreciate the weather while focusing on her walk, and once she heard the words directed at her, Elena chuckled.

“I’ve been to a few. Not enough to say that I got used to it, but some that made me mesmerized by it,” her lips curved upwards forming a smile. “But I think the important question would be: would you invite me? I promise I wouldn’t disappoint you, I could be the life of the party if needed.” It was one of those moments that Elena would allow herself to let loose and enjoy being her own self without focusing on the monsters inside her head.

-

There was no question. Of course, he would invite her. She was stunning and friendly. In his book, that’s considered a double knockout. “You are the little devil I was hoping would show up on my shoulder.” Despite his many mistakes in the past, Adem did have an annoying conscience. He believes it’s his father’s voice in his head, no angel. It’s this yapping noise that keeps telling him what not to do right before he does it anyway. 

“So I’m really doing this? I’m about to drop a couple mill’ on a yacht?” All he can think about is the bikinis, booze, and dancing. “Fuck, man, I’m going to need a captain’s hat.” Drawing a deep breath, he exhales slowly before looking around at all the choices. “Okay, listen, you help me pick one out, and I’ll name it after you. Then if you’d join me inside to sign the papers, that would be awesome. I’ll take you anywhere you need to go.” 

the day was nice enough to make halime want to stay longer outside once she’d reached her running objective of that morning. the marina was particularly breezier than usual, which made the brunette throw her arms around herself and gently rub her arms from over her running jacket. if she’d known, she would’ve traded this light jacket for her windbreaker, but it was quite alright.

upon hearing someone talk to her, halime glanced over to the person and offered them a small smile, trying not to sound as judgmental as her question might’ve been percieved as. “you want a yatch just to throw parties in it?” she asked. “i mean… why not going on cruises, then? there are constant parties, and you wouldn’t have to keep managing the yatch, renting a spot at the marina, etc.”

-

“Uhh,” He almost cuts her off from continuing just so he can reiterate how awesome it would be to have a party yacht. Who would ever oppose such a grand idea? Well, other than his criminally ignorant father whose idea of fun is to manipulate someone into one of his many powerplays. “Yeah, that all sounds like, you know, beneficial and shit, but what about the guestlist? Think about it, if I’m on a cruise, I can’t be surrounded by like-minded people. There could be a Karen on board. And who’s to say they won’t kick me off the cruise if I get too wild? There’s a lack of control there that I don't like. Also, dude, owning your own yacht is bad ass. Just think about how many babe points I’d gain with the girls. I mean, no offense.” Having his foot in his mouth was a constant issue that he’s been working on. Kind of. Sort of. Well not really. 

status: OPEN 

location: Blend Coffee 

Last week was exhausting, and yesterday was exhausting as well. This past month has not been his best and all the man really wanted to do was sleep though he couldn’t. There was work that needed to be done, fires to be put out. He was the Lieutenant of course, and the Lieutenant was in charge so Everett couldn’t sleep or doze off even if he wanted too. Sitting at the table fiddling with his thumbs for a moment, Everett saw how busy the line was getting and damn should he have gotten his coffee first instead of sitting down right away. Blend Coffee was always busy early in the mornings, and he needed to head to the fire house soon. Taking a deep breath, Everett opened his mouth to speak “Alright listen. Ill pay you like fifteen bucks or maybe ten if you can go up in line and order me a regular coffee. Im exhausted and don’t feel like getting up.” He said letting out a laugh, and the firefighter shook his head for a moment “Please?” 

-

While most people would probably be offended by Everett’s impatience, Adem loved it. As a spoiled rich kid with the benefits of luxury at his fingertips, he could only admire his presumptuous audacity. How many times has he himself paid to get in front of a line or to have someone thrown out of one? Countless times. With his signature playboy smirk, the young native waltzed over with two coffees in hand. One was for the girl in his bed who still sobering up, and the other was for himself. But in this case, the female in recovery wasn’t of much importance to him. She served her purpose. The coffee was just an excuse to wake her up so she’d leave his house. “Does it have to be regular? There’s sugar and cream in this one. It was for my playmate, but bros over hoes, right?” He extends a well-groomed hand decorated in expensive silver rings and a diamond tennis bracelet. “Name’s Adem. You know, like the first dude on the planet to get laid..” 

for: anyone! (could be a stranger passing by or someone he knows / is hanging out with) @siestastarters

Adem had his eye on a yacht for a couple years now. He was supposed to get one after graduating from university, but his father decided he had enough toys and wanted him to buckle down and take his future seriously. But that doesn’t stop him from visiting Mariners Marina at least once a week to marvel at the boats. He knew he could make a purchase right now if he wanted to, but not without consequences. 

As a socially gifted person, his attention was averted the moment he saw someone passing. “I would kill for a yacht. Imagine the unbelievable parties I could throw? Dude, I would live on it. Okay, I wouldn’t live on it... but maybe.” 

“It’s nothing.” Although, her abrasive brush off and the fact she couldn’t look Mr. Wellington in the eye said otherwise. It’s not that she was ashamed of her side hustle but, at the same time… she didn’t want Adem to think any less of her because she took off her clothes to make a living.

She’s not so sure his crowd, as she judged by this event, would approve of him slumming it with a girl like her. They’d call her trashy. Probably label her a slut even though she’s never slept with those she’s given lapdances to.

It is what it is.

And clearly it’s not what he’s thinking. In fact, it’s far from it. Not only would someone like Leyla probably burn in a church after stepping foot in it, but she wasn’t even Catholic. So, she’d have no reason to join a choir or listen to Mr. Wellington give sermons on Sundays.

The thought was quite laughable, really. So much so, she practically keeled over and choked on her second glass. Champagne dripped from her nose and she had to take a napkin just to keep it from spilling onto her knock off dress, as he so kindly put it earlier in the night.

“HI-LAR-IOUS,” she barked, while punching him in the arm to keep quiet. “Don’t think my cries for mercy had anything to do with you.” But they did. He was quite the charmer. Most guys couldn’t even find her clit let alone make her orgasm. Adem was the rare exception. “Seriously though. I have no idea who that guy was. I mean, he could’ve easily mistook me for someone else. Aren’t pastors supposed to be like, undercover pedophiles? Maybe, I’m the girl of his dreams. It happens.” Two points for modesty. “In that case, you two could relate. I’m pretty sure you’re in love with me. That’s why, you brought me here to meet your parents. Speaking of…. where are they? Are you gonna introduce me or are you too ashamed to be seen with me in public?”

-

Adem couldn’t contain his own laughter and joined in. Her laugh was contagiously cute. “God, I can’t take you anywhere huh?” He teased, closing the small space between them to gently brush the champagne off her nose and cheeks. Really he just wanted an excuse to touch her. She was beautiful in a way he’s never seen before. It was like she was made up of magic. She was all pixie dust and starlight. If she could see herself through his eyes she would see that she sparkles way brighter than every string of light and adorned jewelry at this party. Her kind of glisten and shine couldn’t be bought. She embodied an enchantment he couldn’t seem to break free of. 

“Sure, sure,” he retorts in the same teasing tone while giving her a gentle nudge. As their conversation continued, Adem led her over to a gorgeously lit bar. Because of the warm weather, the event was being held outside and there was a strict rule that no one was to step foot inside the building. Mr. Wellington and a few other adults were partaking in more nefarious activities inside. There were drugs, illegal gambling, hired escorts, and armed security. Wellington couldn’t risk his image being tarnished, but he also couldn’t refrain from indulging in sinful proclivities. He loves his wife and his religion, but he was born with too much temptation, and no matter how hard he prays, he can’t seem to calm his demons. 

“You’re way off mark. No one is more devoted to God than him. Trust me. He wants to make the world a better place. I don’t think he’s ever run a red light.” He laughed, but his smile quickly faded the minute he saw his mother seated on the couch with the other stepford wives. Meanwhile his father was inside, discussing a new lab he hopes to open in Siesta. 

“I’m not embarrassed by you, I’m embarrassed by them. My dad is an evil genius and my mother is over there. She’s the director of photography at Vanity Fair. If you really wanna meet her, it’s your funeral. She’s never liked any of my dates. But I wouldn’t take it personally. She comes from a long line of bitches. If you wanna see real evil, you should meet my grandma.” 

“Not fucking things up is overrated.”  And frankly, it’s boring. Nobody worth remembering lives their life on the down low or free of mistakes. That’s what makes them human. But, rather than get into a debate about flaws and why it’s not the worst possible thing to have them, Leyla helps herself to one of the floating trays carrying champagne flutes. She downs one, and then makes reach for another just as someone else does the same. Someone who she’s seen before at Nocturne, her other job. The one that feels like a prison even though it’s supposed to look liberating. “Hey, do I know you? You look familiar.”

Leyla stared at the older gentleman, trying to connect the dots. That’s when she remembered, he was the same man who grabbed her ass on her way back to her dressing room. Drunk or not, she wanted to punch him in the throat. Almost did but, the appearance of her boss stopped her. It’s not wise to fight with the customers. Especially when they’re high rollers who spend a lot of their hard earned dollars on the girls she works with. “No, I don’t think so. I’m told I have a familiar face though.” Worried he’s going to put the pieces together, Leyla takes Adem’s hand and interlaces they’re fingers to show their ‘together’ before she leads him away. “Wanna dance with me?”

-

Adem could tell this girl was trouble and he wasn’t sure that was a good thing. He was trouble enough on his own. If he wanted to be taken more seriously he’d have to grow up and cut back on the debauchery. Yet there was something about Leyla that kept him from moving forward. Maybe it was nice having someone around that was so different from his parents and friends. She was like a breath of fresh air. Although present company might describe her as a smoky room. They weren’t breathing any easier with her around. He picked up on the sideways glances from leering socialites. But at least they weren’t saying anything. Until one of them did. 

“What was that all about?” He wasn’t uncomfortable with her taking his hand, but it was a first. She almost seemed unnerved by Mr. Wellington. Adem knew him from similar family events and charity galas. He ran the local church and was married with three kids. 

Despite the bout of awkwardness, he allowed her to lead them into a dance between the bar and the betting tables. Tonight’s theme was casino night and any money made would be sent to Wellington’s Youth of Tomorrow Foundation. “Don’t tell me you’re a secret goody-two-shoes? Mr. Wellington runs the church and owns a bible camp near Turtle Beach. He’s usually good with remembering names and faces. You were a fucking choir girl weren’t you?” He laughs, finding humor in the idea. “Makes sense. Oh god, oh god, oh god have been your favorite words.” 

Unlike most other girls on the key, Leyla wasn’t looking for a boyfriend. Adem was cute and if their casual one night stands were anything to go by… he was also an incredible lay. Not to mention rich as fuck. It wouldn’t kill her reap the rewards just for her own benefit. Besides, the more she slept on it… the more she realized, Adem might just be what she needs. Maybe if they were to become something, she could convince him to help her pay off her debts to a boss that wouldn’t let up. In exchange, she’d put on a pretty dress, and try to get along with the primadonnas and king sharks of Siesta Key. “That’s sweet but, you’ve seen me naked. Multiple times. We’re at the stage now where you can tell me the truth and it won’t hurt your chances of getting laid. Besides, I like to think I’m a big girl. Pretty sure I can handle it.” Personally, Leyla felt underdressed. The whole party glittered. It’s not something she was used to. “What exactly do you do at these things, anyway? Besides drink and rub elbows with rich people.”

-

Adem could only roll his eyes in response. His expression held enough humor for it not to come across as insulting. “Fine. It’s a very obvious knockoff. With that said, no one will give a fuck. Okay, they will. But, I don’t care. So...” He knew she didn’t come from money. She was working as a tattoo artist. All his other friends were graduating from med school or taking over their father’s companies. Adem was supposed to be doing the same thing, but his dad was a real hard ass and didn’t think he was good enough for more responsibility. “That’s all you really do here. You mingle and make connections. It’s a chance to network. Think of it as a real-life TikTok or Facebook. You wanna follow the high numbers and have them follow you back. Of course my pops wants me to lay low because he doesn’t trust me not to fuck something up. I’m more than a pretty boy, I’m fucking brilliant, he just refuses to see it.”