#23

Us was certainly doing the heavy lifting in this conversation. "The big party isn't the issue, we can just hire an event planner, right. You and James can handle the plane tickets, superstar." She teased. "Hey, my birth was already the greatest gift they could get." She just... couldn't think of what their parents would want. Michelle shook her head, "You sure we can't just send them on vacation and be done?"

An event planner... Was there truly not going to one moment of Spencer's life that didn't somehow loop back to Jessica Knightly? "I might know someone, yeah. What, you don't want to fork out the big bucks?" he teased. Spencer rolled his eyes at Michelle's favourite fun fact. "You know, there's gonna come a time when that excuse isn't going to work anymore. Your miraculous birth can't carry us forever. Eventually, you'll have to bite the bullet and get them an espresso machine." Man, Spencer wished they could. Usually they could. But their mom had already not so subtly hinted what a big deal this anniversary was. "No can do, Mich."

Dawson appreciated the honesty; he knew art wasn't everyone's thing. "Not a bad call, it doesn't take much to impress people, not many people know too much about art." He nodded his head. "Pretty into it all, I am an artist. Dawson Wren, nice to meet you."

"Well, shit," Spencer laughed. So, he just a little into all this then. He held his hand out kinda awkwardly to shake. "Spencer King. Nice to meet you too." Maybe Jessica Knightly had a point about his not so dazzling social skills... "I, uh, get on better on a football field than in a place like this. I'm just hiding out from my-," he paused, considering how to describe her- "PR manager."

it was bordering on unprofessional at the way she was starting back at him, it was far too fond for someone that was a work colleague. the silence sitting between them like an old friend. it was comfortable even if they weren't. they were normally far more quick with one another, quick comments, quick jokes, it was too serious now. abort. abort.

she knew he was frustrated being out of the game, and if she was a sportsperson in his position she would absolutely be feeling the same way. all the brand deals and press were sure to be rubbing salt in an already painful wound for spencer, but him cooperating meant that he was still contributing. "thank you, and i do appreciate you taking part with minimum complaints. i know it's not easy being around all this and it means a lot that you're here -" she paused at her own sentence before abruptly adding "for the team"

"yeah, well... anything for the team," he added. spencer found himself looking at her - gazing? - for far too long after that. if he had anything else to say, it certainly wasn't coming to him. no, he'd been left high and dry by his so-called brain right now. spencer was used to her giving him shit or making fun, but the sincerity in her voice was undeniable. it made him feel... uncomfortable. yeah, that's what it was.

Dawson knew Spencer King, not because he cared about sports, but because a football superstar who hung around the Upper East Side crowd was on his radar. He smiled at the man, nodding his head. "If it makes you feel better, it's not a great piece of art anyway."

Spencer let out an unexpected laugh at his response, feeling his shoulders relax. "That does make me feel better, thanks. I'll have to remember the name of it so I can seem smart next time I'm asked about art," he added. "Are you, uh... into all this?"

"then you don't have to. i can phone them and deal with the request of tickets if you want to go. they usually come in pairs for you and a plus one"

"yeah? i'd owe you one," he said without thinking. spencer definitely didn't want to owe jessica knightly one - any more ones - given what she could book him to do. fucking hell... "oh, it's not for me. my, uh, parents are not subtle in their hinting about it."

"i don't think there's any harm in asking to see if you can get tickets. you're part of the brand deal, surely you of all people could get a ticket to go"

"what if i really don't want to talk to them again?"

Dawson had been holed up in his studio working on some new pieces. He had been inspired by all the romance and drama he had seen at Logan's party; it had been quite the introduction to the place he was calling home. If every part proved to be this inspiring, his dry spells with his art would be a thing of the past. Today, he was taking in some local art by going to a few galleries.

Spencer had only ducked in here to try and clear his head. He was dodging calls from his PT like a pro, half hoping he'd lose cell service the deeper he wandered into this gallery. Art had never really been his thing and he was barely paying attention when he was asked the question. Spencer blinked in response, suddenly feeling like an imposter caught in enemy territory. "Uh... pass?"

she didn't like some of these brands demands as much as the players didn't, and she tried her best to reduce those demands to as little as possible, but unfortunately the more money the brands deals were bringing the more pushback they could provide. that being said if brands were going to bark demands then jessica was making sure that every bark was coming with a hefty price tag. "just know that anything any of you have to do brand wise i will make sure that companies are paying top dollar for. i know it's inconvenient for you all but at least you'll be paid well for it"

spencer begrudgingly nodded at her explanation, he didn't doubt that jessica knightly was good at her job. 'the best', actually, he could hear her say. and he was grateful, more than he was comfortable admitting. he didn't want to think about being out of the game, and that's all these deals made him think about. this couldn't be all there was for him, could it? he shook the thought. "i know and, uh, thank you. i really do appreciate all you're doing, jessica-," he started, pausing a moment too long before adding- "for the team."

Isobel didn't mean to turn her head when she heard Spencer's voice, but she unfortunately did so when he was looking at her and now he felt obligated to speak to her. After being on one too many PR campaigns for the guy, she quickly realised that he wasn't exactly fun, but his choice of drink was certainly an interesting one. She might have asked him what was bothering him, but god knows it would be that stupid injury.

Spencer nodded in response, asking the bartender for another - with ice. It seemed fitting. Now, Spencer wasn't one to judge - mostly because he liked to mind his own damn business - but he knew Isobel Prescott had a reputation. Ice queen. So, what was she doing sitting at this bar alone, looking like her whole world was crumbling down around her? Spencer didn't need to know. Even so, he found himself lingering at the bar, counting down the seconds until his drink was in front of him. "Big Valentine's plans tonight?" Fucking hell. He hated small talk.

Isobel had been back and forth on whether or not she should make an appearance at Logan's party, but when she was standing outside The Palace hotel... she just couldn't do it. Pivoting on her heel, she found herself in a window booth at the bar across the street, where she could watch everyone coming and going from the event she helped plan.

Spencer was building his way up to walking through the door of the Palace Hotel. At least, that's what he was telling himself. It's not like Spencer cared about a Valentine's Day party and as nice as Logan Hunter was, he'd rather send them a card in the mail. But it was football season, well and truly. The Superbowl. And Spencer was still on the damn bench.

spencer was sulking and while she knew that he would likely be describing it as 'brooding' she wouldn't call it anything other than sulking. she gave him a look that told him to wisen up and get involved.

"yeah, i get that," he sighed. she was just doing her job, he had to remember that. jessica knightly was here for the team, and by extension, him. it wasn't her fault that he couldn't leave it all out on the field instead of here in a damn antiperspirant commercial. "i appreciate that." spencer let out a sigh then, shoulders deflating. at least now he could put his shirt back on.

according to logan, this would be a night to remember, and she was sure it would be with all the planning that logan had done. that being said, she could feel the nerves in her stomach at the idea of being paired up with anyone. however, she was always told that fortune favoured the brave and with that jessica dropped her card into cupids mailbox and let out a breath.

this was the last place that spencer king expected to be tonight. he wasn't even really sure what had possessed him. the long stemmed red rose he was handed on arrival, along with some card thing to fill in, was enough to have him necking a glass of champagne. also not his norm. at the very least, he should still be home and in bed for 10pm. it was with that thought, he noticed her. how could you not, right? "what exactly are these cards for?" he asked, appearing at her side. "i'm scared to hear the answer, truly."

I know the night is young, but there's a severe lack of debauchery here. Does no one care about the art of making a scene anymore? I will say though I'd rather not be punched again. @tfrstarters

... Okay, so I'm not eavesdropping and I definitely don't want to be involved with any debauchery - severe or otherwise. But did you just say you'd rather not be punched again?

Francis stared at the other person as if they'd just grown a third head, his expression caught somewhere between disbelief and mild amusement. "If your grandfather was born before 1847, then yeah, he wouldn’t have known what a phone was," he said, raising an eyebrow. "But I’m pretty sure your grandfather isn’t that old." He couldn’t wrap his mind around how someone so young could be so opposed to modern technology. For Francis, life without his phone seemed almost impossible. It was his lifeline—how else would he read his favorite fanfiction about kinky vampires?

Spencer let out an unexpected laugh at his response. By the look on his face, it was clear that they weren't in agreement. To be fair, most people couldn't live without their phones. Spencer wasn't making up the majority but he'd still happily ditch all this to live somewhere alone, middle of nowhere, no WiFi. Dare to dream. "Some days I feel about a hundred and seventy-seven but you're right. Neither of us are that old." His sister would probably debate it but Michelle wasn't here to make fun.