looks good on you

Sky has already worked a shift today, keeping people coming and going with wristbands into the events. After her shift ends and she finds Diego and Wes, she can enjoy her time rather than deal with kids trying to sneak in for a drink or drama between the acts. Swinging her son as high as she can, she smiles, loving to hear the laugh from her son and see the smile on his face. She can't help but laugh too. Looking over at Wes with a smile, she shrugs. "I'm going to miss it, my shoulders won't but I will. I hate that he's getting so big. I miss my little tiny baby," she whines. "He's going to get tall and he's not going to want to hang out with mom and dad anymore? What the Hell do we do then, Wes?" It's a fair bit off but she still thinks about it. She still thinks about what Wes and she will be when Diego is old enough to understand the reasons his parents aren't together.

"He's never gonna be as small as he is now. Like as young as he is now, that's the youngest he's ever gonna be." It may seem obvious, but still, it made him hate how fast time was going by. "He's gonna wanna hang out with me, I'll tell you that. I'm the cool dad. And you're a MILF so his friends will wanna hang around with you." He teased, looking down at him. "Thank you for, y'know, bringing him into our lives and all that."

"You're colourblind?" Brenna repeats, a brow raising at Wes. Even despite that, she knows Wes is the last person that she should be asking for fashion advice. She's lucky if he shows up to anything in a clean shirt and jeans that dirt stained. She scowls a little, pursing her lips and looking between the red dress on the hanger and the black one she's wearing now. As much as she hates to admit it, he's right. The black one is nicer — the red one's maybe a little slutty but she keeps that to herself. "Where does Diego get his fashion sense? It can't be you."

"I kinda figured that that was obvious." Wes wasn't the most stylish type around, he had no idea when shit matched due to the fact that he didn't know anything about styling himself nor was he able to see the difference between green and red. "Probably Sky. Does she have a good fashion sense, though? I dunno, I think, I have a better one than her." He teased, "My cowboy hats are nice."

who: @wcscvans

Wes was in his element, having a grand ole time smelling all the good food, trying some new beer, and being with Diego. However, he figured that if he was going to smoke, he should probably stand off a little to the side. "I should, could've lost it by now though," He had a habit of misplacing things even in the span of a few minutes. It was in his pocket, though. "If I'm cowboy, does that mean you're tattoo boy?" He chuckled, as he offered him the lighter.

who → @wcscvanswhere → state fair bbq comp.

Wes was going to be meeting up with Sky and Diego and the fair, though that didn't stop him from taking a sneak peek at the food that he'd be able to look forward to after the judging. "Don't knock it until you try it, you know what they say about assuming," He insinuated, "I think if they're willin' to be judged, they gotta be good." He wouldn't put himself out there if he knew he was terrible, and he was terrible. "I'm looking forward to the pulled pork, it smells good."

Shrugging a little bit Hayes motioned to the seat beside him. “The offer still stands, dude. I’d love to help, just name the time and place. Here sit.” Grabbing his fresh drink he held it up toward Wes’. “To a good performance.” They clinked glasses and the blonde took a swig before waving a hand around them at Wes’ comment. “Got a few friends performing and working behind the bar. Finished work a little early, figured it would be fun. How’ve you been, dude?”

"I'll let you know. Gotta find a time I'm not workin' and not hanging with the kid. And when you got time in your schedule too." Hopefully their schedules would line up. He did a cheers with the younger man before giving him a nod. "Some of these people could use someone supportive like you, man, at least the ones that are barely singin' into the mic and about to shit their pants." He always appreciated Hayes' support, "I'm good. Heard you were a back-up babysitter for Diego. Is that now a permanent back up position you got?"

closed @wcscvans setting brenna's penthouse

Wes looked behind him, wondering who the hell she was talking to. It couldn't be him. He figured that Brenna would know better at this point than to ask him shit. "You know I'm colorblind, right? Like red looks like orange to me." At least that's what he's been told. "Fire your assistant." He reminded her, before looking again at the dresses. "Go with that one." He told her, pointing towards the black one. "No one can go wrong with black. It's everyone's color. At least that's what Diego has told me."

"I heard if you do more squats you get more of an ass, food for thought." Lottie chuckled and took another drink from her glass. She couldn't remember the last time she'd sat down long enough to related. The woman seemed to always be on the move until she couldn't move anymore. "We definitely got a good turnout. A lot of people like these guys though," she nodded to the stage that had a decent crowd hovering around it. "All you got to do is sign up for open mic night or fill out the form on the website for any other night. I like new and old talent alike." That's the heart beat of the city and Lottie wouldn't have it any other way.

"I heard if you do more squats, you'll end up fallin' over and unable to get back up." He wasn't that old just yet, but he sure as hell wasn't doing squats just for it. "I like 'em too. They sound good." He could admit to hearing a good act when there was one. "I already started drinking. I don't like mixing singing and drinking, causes some bad shit in the throat." He had no idea if there was any truth to that, but he figured that he shouldn't change it up now. He already probably damages his voice enough by smoking a pack a day. "You sing?"

— who: @wcscvans — where: Tin Roof Open Mic

Wes had motioned to the bartender for a drink now that he was done with his set, happy to be able to get some alcohol in his system. He spotted Hayes on his way over, stopping as the younger man spoke to him. "Thanks, man. You could probably help me sound better," He was getting down to business, "At least recording wise. Every single time I try to mix my songs, they don't even sound different." Better was what he was looking for. He wanted to hear an improvement after he recorded his shit, considering it was all on his own computer. It definitely sounded homemade. "I didn't realize you were here tonight."

She grabs him a bottle, sliding it across the bar. "That way you have more money to tip with," Sky smirks, crinkling her nose at him. "He's going through a phase so anything less than Oscar-worthy isn't cutting it anymore," she sighs, tapping her nails against the bar. She'd taken the time to get them done this week, her brothers had harped on her long enough that she wasn't getting any younger and she needed to enjoy herself. Motherhood was something that she enjoyed but her life definitely didn't look like what it used to be-- neither did Sky and Wes together.

"It's weird givin' you tips. Not that you don't deserve 'em but you're you, you know? I mean that in the best way." Sometimes stupid shit came out of his mouth, or things that he couldn't explain without sounding dumb. But it was like giving his girlfriend-not-girlfriend a tip. "He's been havin' me play cowboys with him and I gotta be all dramatic about getting hurt or else he makes me do it again." He chuckled, happy to oblige with Diego's demands.

"Not saying that you were, but if you were -- I'm stronger than I look except my back has been neglected in my workouts so probably for the best that you do the heavy lifting." She admitted as stepped closer to him so he could thread his hands together and lift her. "Tell me you're going commando because that might make my whole day." Now she stepped back with a teasing smirk as she looked him over. "I'm kidding. I can give you my shirt if you're worried about me looking at you but I promise not even to glimpse down at your boxers or briefs."

"I always wanna go commando and free ball it but apparently it's frowned upon?" If it were up to him, he'd wear like no clothes. They felt so...constricting for him. "I'm a boxer briefs type of guy." He admitted as he got his hands ready for her. "So you gonna tell me why we're actually doing this or?"

closed for: @wcscvans. location: a downtown bar.

"I honestly was also late, so wasn't waitin' around for long." And even then, he just scrolled through his phone while he waited or talked to someone getting a drink. He knew that Ben was sober, but it really took everything in him to not ask him for anything else.

"Bottled or draft-- bottles are on special," she asks, popping out a hip. Sky lets her brown eyes linger on Wes for a few moments longer than what would be considered appropriate for a bartender and customer relationship. Of course, they were so much more than that. They'd been together for four years and now it's been four more since they split. Like it or not, Sky and Wes' lives were forever intertwined, and even if Diego wasn't in the picture (and thank God he was), Sky's certain that there would be no change in the ebb and flow and their relationship. Unfortunately, their relationship was certainly no fairytale and there wasn't a happily ever after. Not that Sky doesn't hope for it sometimes.

"Surprise me." When it came to beer, he never really had a preference, it all went down the same hatch. He wasted way too much money on alcohol, money that could've been used for other things like their son.

where: the tin roof

Wes sorta wished he was up there, the music making him tap his leg along to it. "Guess so. Though I gotta admit, it also hurts when you're sittin' for too long. My ass gets numb so I gotta find the perfect balance." He admitted as he took a sip of his whiskey, "It's goin'. You guys seem busy tonight," Though he wasn't surprised, "Sorta makes me wish I was playin' tonight."

where: Outside Destination Ink. Night time.

Wes was getting ready to head into one of the numerous bars, it was 10 pm after all, which meant that night was young when he was witnessing this stupid tourist acting all...stupid. "Well you know, what they say," He actually had no clue, but he was hoping the other man did. "I guess you gotta live life to the fullest while in Nashville?" Even drunk, he wasn't that stupid. Or at least he had better tattoo ideas than that. "Can you even tattoo someone who's drunk?" Was it against ethical violations or something?