#*a: convos

“How do I know you?” Aspen asks. She’s been a lot of places and met lots of people. It’s true, sometimes they are forgettable or just seem familiar but she’s certain that she’s seen this man before. “Are you from New York? Or no, let me guess --” She taps a finger to her lips and analyzes him. “-- You’re in TV, aren’t you? You’ve got the face for it.” She nods, confident with her conclusion. 

She’s surprised at how many faces she doesn’t recognize. Upon moving in, Aspen had made it her personal mission to make as many connections friends as possible. Snaking through the thick crowd of people now, she realizes just how many people live in the Cove and how many she hasn’t met. Still, she’s a Montgomery, so she flits around making conversation with the locals. She’s always been good at rubbing elbows -- her parents taught her well -- but there’s so many strangers. When the names start blending together, she knows it’s time to take a break. Aspen reaches for a bottle of water from the open pantry and spots a stray hand doing the same. Curiously, she retrieves her drink and looks over to see a familiar face. “Hmm, if it isn’t my old friend.” She grins at the tall, dark-haired not-stranger, pleased to see someone she not only knows but enjoys the company of. “You don’t drink but I keep finding you in the most interesting places for a sober person.” She offers the water bottle out to Andrej, grabbing another off the shelf with her free hand for herself. “Enjoying the festivities?”

A party. She should have just told Harry no this time. After the yacht party fiasco, the last thing he should be doing is indulging in more chaos. Maybe it’s not indulging, she supposes, he just is the chaos. Normally, she might’ve enjoyed a soiree but her concern for her twin eclipses any positive emotions. She decides the best thing to do is to check on him and beelines for his room. Except Harry isn’t in there, but some rando is. “Ugh, gross. I don't know what you're doing but you can’t be in here. This room is off limits.”

Aspen rushes through the crowd of people, looking around frantically. It never gets easier, taking care of Harry, but usually she has more to go off of than a string of unreadable texts. She’s tried all of her usual methods to hunt him down and nothing -- his location has been turned off (on purpose, she suspects) and none of her calls were going through.  Feeling desperate, she reaches out and grabs the nearest person by the arm. “Hey,” She says, completely deserting the pleasant Aspen Montgomery for a wretched one. “I need you to focus -- if you’ve seen a skinny guy with dark hair stumbling around you need to tell me now.” 

She won’t have to go inside this time, it seems security already kicked her twin out. Aspen’s done this thousands of times at this point so it’s easy to find him slumped against the wall of the establishment. Her fists tighten at the sight of it. Irritation isn’t a strong enough word; she’s livid. She stops short in front of him, entertaining the flicker of concern. It’s the only way Aspen can handle these situations the way that she’s supposed to. “Harry,” She says evenly, kneeling down to his level. “It’s time to go.”