this town

“Hey, come sit. Have a drink with me. I am old today.” He held his drink up, giving a dorky smile. “And yes, yes, you may recognise my voice.”

.

“And dramatic,” Wes frowns, smiling through an eyeroll. “Must come with the old age.” His own beer is sitting halfway done in his grasp but he’ll amend, another one won’t hurt. His collages are all sat on a table at the far back, he’s willing to take any excuse for a break from socializing.  

“Yeah?” He frowns, because...it’s true, actually. Which is surprising. It’ll bother him if he doesn’t ask. “Where would I know it from?“

Harriet sat on the wall, letting out a laugh. “Okay, can I admit… I don’t even like rides. I am scared of heights and lack of gravity makes me feel sick,” she said, laughing once more. “The spinning. Don’t like spinning. But I am worse than my kid when it comes to winning those giant stuffed toys.”

.

He snorted quietly under his breath, Wes finds his own little space against the wall and shrugged. The respite from the constant twinkling lights and repetitive music is appreciated, however. “Never been a fan of carnivals actually.” He admitted. “Aren’t they considered creepy? I thought It ruined it for everyone.” His laugh is quiet. “Oh yeah? Won anything worthwhile?”