#highrollerstart

Cal loved Vegas for its clubs. He’d been here six years and he’d yet to get tired of them, since there always seemed to be a new one springing up every six months that catered to different crowds. There were the staples, of course, like Eden, Laced, and Cherry Bomb which had become three of Cal’s usual haunts. When he felt like dancing, however, Strobe had become a particular favourite. The music was always good to dance to, the DJs were a cut above, and the booze was as top shelf as Cal could’ve asked for. He’d just been out on the dance floor for...some amount of time, since he’d lost track, hopped up on booze and the general vibe of grinding with strangers on the dance floor. There were some good dancers out there but no one had stepped up as a candidate for Cal to take home yet. As such, he needed a small breather so. He made a quick stop at the bathroom, to check that his hair wasn’t in too much disarray for the dancing, pat his face free of sweat, and quickly reapply whatever guyliner had been smudged. Looking like a rockstar once more, he headed to the bar for a quick glass of water (staying hydrated was occasionally important) and another drink. It was too loud near the bar so he wandered back to one of the booths and slid into an already occupied one with a charming grin. “You look like you could use some company. Mind if I join you?” Most people didn’t, and Cal had already sat down so he figured he could get away with it. If not, he could probably talk his way into staying put. 

If there was one thing Frankie was bad at, it was relaxing. He always retained a defensive edge to him, as if he anticipated disaster at any given moment. Tense shoulders were evidence to that, as were his wandering eyes that never rested on any one item or person of focus for too long. Tonight, though, he was making a genuine effort - as much as Frankie could do. Bars were not his favorite, as the alcohol messed with his meds too much and made his already-stilted speech even harder to comprehend, and he didn’t want to risk going somewhere high-profile and risk running into one of his siblings, so Bugsy’s Diner it was. 

Holly loved a themed party, so when she received an invitation to the gala, she immediately decided she was going. She would go and have a fun time, especially since she didn’t have a show the next day. She made her way around, making small talk with the people she knew and the people who knew of her. The fact that people recognized her for her work would always be something that was hard to wrap her head around. “Do you mind if I join you for a moment? I’m pretty sure the beading on this dress is heavier than I am,” the petite woman asked with a laugh as she approached an open seat at one of the tables.

Cassie was in her own world, texting with one hand whilst she happily and eagerly went to town on an ice lolly. It was hot and melting and she licked up the melted drips that had run down her wrist. The brunette’s eyes flickered up and spotted someone watching. With a giggle, Cassie put on her ‘do me’ eyes and continued, teasing the onlooker.

It wasn’t like Beau threw her parent’s money around -- she lived a very modest life ins spite of her status and liked it that way. But still, every now and then she had a moment where she decided to treat herself, and while most girls her age would splurge on clothes and shoes, Beau decided just to relax in a hot tub at the Maverick. The poolside area was always pack on the weekends, what with partied being thrown and all , so she took advantage of the fairly quiet Tuesday evening and let the hot water relax her muscles as she sipped a splurge glass of champagne. Though there weren’t many people around, and most were playing in the pool leaving the jacuzzi all to Beau, someone decided to join her which she would happily accept as it meant she’d have company to talk to.  “Well don’t hesitate, I don’t own the bath.” She smiled as she invited them to join, feeling that they were hesitant to disturb her.

It was just another ordinary day for Arden; leaning against the counter, she eyed her surroundings, watching the small bustle of customers who had gathered in the coffee shop awhile earlier finally clean off their tables and abandon their cups in the tub beside the door. The early afternoon was generally pretty sparse throughout the week, especially whenever there were larger coffee shop chains throughout Las Vegas that might’ve had better prices - but definitely not better coffee. Pushing herself up from the counter, she grabbed her rag and spray bottle as she made her way around the small sitting area of the shop. It was a pretty easy gig, one that she felt lucky to score due to its close proximity to her apartment and the good hours she got in the morning whenever she wasn’t working at Strobe. The money wasn’t amazing, sure, but she enjoyed the small atmosphere that allowed her a break from the hustle and bustle of Las Vegas. As the bell over the door chimed and signaled the entrance of another patron into the coffee shop, Arden tucked the rag into her apron and made her way around the counter, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear before she offered a smile to the customer. “Hi, there. What can I get you?” 

It hadn’t taken long for Jack to lose track of Carina since approximately everyone in Vegas was packed into this place, or at least that’s what it seemed like to Jack. His view of humanity in general was kind of dim so being around this many people put him on edge, even more so when he’d lost track of one of the people that could keep him at least a little grounded. He’d quickly worked his way out of the thick of the crowd, trying to find somewhere he could wait out the allotted hour where he wouldn’t have to interact with too many people. He manages to overhear, completely by accident, about some sort of underground party taking place in some lower floor that’s supposed to have better entertainment and some kind of card games. Definitely thinking it sounds like more of his kind of place than up here, Jack finds his way down there. He already feels more at home when he gets there and sees that there’s a real bar and fewer people. The scantily clad dancers don’t do it for him but whatever. Jack makes a beeline for the bar and orders a Black Russian, just settling there and figuring he can live and drink there until he has to go up and find Carina. His hopes of doing it alone are dashed almost immediately, though, when someone slides onto the seat beside him. Glancing at them, Jack frowns. “That seat’s taken.” It isn’t, but the other person doesn’t have to know that. 

The whole bar was singing along to Sweet Child of Mine the moment Everette put it on, happy they still had an old jukebox hooked up to the speakers, as it was one of the reasons she loved a good dive bar.  The floors were sticky from spilled beer, nobody was wearing a suit, and everybody was dancing instead of being stuck to their chair talking business-- it was perfect. After a spin on the floor with some massive trucker, Ev was parched and pecking the guy on the cheek before moving towards the bar, leaning on it and glancing to her side at the person sitting there. “ You’re cute.” She smirked, turning to face them. “ I’m gonna buy you a drink -- what’re ya havin’?”