#lydrpstarter

Destin walked through the living room of his parents' house, making small talk with a few of his fathers’ friends and business associates. The Tate’s were known for the dinner parties, it seemed like Destin was being invited to one almost every month. It seemed like they invited almost everyone in town to these things.  This time was for a celebration honoring the companies big score. He excused himself from the group of older men and moved to the refreshment table on the other side of the room, grabbing a bottle of water and twisting the top open before taking a long pull, causing the plastic to cave in on itself. He turned around, spotting a caterer and smiled as they offered him a glass of wine. “Want one?” he offered the person standing next to him.

Zelda’s pen tapped anxiously on the edge of her desk, waiting for the clock to hit 1:45 and class to be over. She sighed softly, leaning back against the chair and stretching her arms out- pushing them on the edge of the desk. She was feeling restless, she needed to get out, needed something besides this stale classroom. Of course she didn’t have to stay, the professor wouldn’t actually care if she got up and left but schooling was important to her, it’s the one thing she hadn’t managed to fuck up while recovering. As soon as the clock hit 1:45 she tossed her bag over her shoulder and practically bolted out of the room. “Thank god” she muttered to herself, moving through the halls and out of the college building onto the campus. She reached into her bag and pulled a pack of cigarettes from one of the pockets, propping one between her lips and lighting it. Sweet relief, if only for this moment. She took a long pull, ash growing on the end of the cylinder before she ashed it towards the ground, only to watch the wind pick it up and carry it, scattering gray matter across someone’s lap. “Oh fuck.” She said “I’m sorry.” She apologized.

A coffee in hand and his sunglasses perched atop his nose, Erik Westin sat rather comfortably on the park bench. This wasn’t his usual Saturday morning routine but he enjoyed it nonetheless. He’d dropped Annie off at her little early morning ballet class, something that Kate usually did but their youngest, Lily had thrown a tantrum and if they didn’t leave, Annie would’ve been late. So, the dance class drop off was up to Erik that morning. 

“Oh, fuck me. Sarah! Do not touch the ducks, do not touch the ducks!” Imogen was running after her daughter, her own bag hanging off her shoulder, a captain marvel backpack hanging off the other and an arm full of drinks and snacks the two had picked up for their day in the park. Her daughter, despite having much tinier legs, was running in front of her at a much faster pace, and between screaming out for her to not touch the god damn ducks, she was not, in fact, looking out where she was going. That’s how she found herself with her ass on the asphalt, cup of iced coffee, sketches and charcoal pencils splattered on the ground around her. “are you fucking kidding me?” she exclaimed with  groan of frustration. 

“-- It’s like I’m playing spot the difference, unbelievable..” Leonard gives what it felt like the 500th look at the papers spread all over the reception table, each one printed in different although extremely similar colour tones. His father had asked him to pick what he felt would look better, although his answer would be irrelevant as Leonard was sure the older Romano had already picked one himself. He had been staring at them all morning, getting increasingly frustrated with it. The amount of coffee running in his system did not help the nerves either, adding to that the hangover, he has started to consider that midday drink a while ago. “Fuck it. I need tequila.”

Tessa had taken up running a few weeks ago on her therapist’s suggestion. They had said it was a safer coping mechanism than a series of one-night stands, but so far… She wasn’t sold, not that she didn’t enjoy the view running through Central Park.

He should have been at the gym by now, at least twenty minutes into his warm up, but instead, he was in his fourth bakery of the day hoping he would find what he needed. He had just walked in, in his gym gear, and all he needed to do was find the damned cinnamon bun and he’d be able to get out of the already overcrowded place, despite the early hour. He headed straight for the baked goods section, on a mission, and that’s when he saw it. Someone was reaching for the last bacon cinnamon roll and he would be damned if he’d let them walk out of here with it. Not when it was the only one he could find and Casey would very well rip his head off if he didn’t come back with one. He sighed, hurrying over to their side, trying not to seem like a total creep, he cleared his throat “listen” he said, pulling out his wallet “I will give you” he peered inside of it, shrugging, he’d paid more for less, “whatever cash I have inside this thing if you let me take that god damn cinnamon roll home. I’ve been to three other bakeries who have none in stock and don’t plan on making more. If I don’t come home with that roll my very pregnant girlfriend will murder me. I like being alive” he explained, tone hopeful, and maybe a little pleading. 

Shopping around New York was an absolute nightmare. It was too busy and not what he was used to so Cam usually avoided it. Somehow though he’d been convinced to go along with the other. He’d do anything for a couple of free beers and it seemed he was easy to persuade.”Ughhh,” he began to moan in his thick, Irish accent. “How many more stores do you need to go in? If one more person walks into me I swear I’m going to go crazy. I’m gonna extend my arm so they punch themselves with my fist. Not my fault if they hurt ‘emselves then.”