i am titanium, jason

[DEVIN OLIVIA WARD]

Devin sauntered into one of the many strip clubs that littered Miami’s nightlife. She never really had enjoyed the atmosphere of a strip club, but the cover was cheaper, the drinks were cheaper, and there were always men here. Nightclubs were too hopping, loud, and grimy, and most of the pubs played live music, which annoyed Dev. If she was going out alone, it just made more sense to go to a strip club. She found an empty bar stool in a darker corner and slid onto it. She knew some of the girls who stripped here regularly, but not well enough to recognize them by the face, or want to find them to talk too. Tonight she was out to enjoy herself. All the family drama that had been clouding her life lately had been stressing her out.

She perched on the stool, dropped her studded clutch on the sticky countertop and ordered a cosmopolitan. “Can you just make me a tab?” she asked, dropping a fifty dollar bill on the counter to start it. “Just keep them coming,” she added, nodding at the bartender. The music was low and swanky, which oddly relaxed Devin. She sipped from the martini glass, quenching her thirst with the cool liquid. She dug through the clutched, wrapped her fingers around her cell phone and pulled it out, snapping the clutch closed. She sent a quick message to her younger sister, letting her know that she would be stopping by after to check in on her.

She let her chin fall into the palm of her hand, as she rested her elbow atop the counter. She breathed out a sigh and took another long sip from her glass. So far, her night had been quite boring, making Dev hope that some sort of drama would happen at the club tonight. She hoped that maybe, just maybe, she would possibly run into somebody she knew. As the bartender brought her another drink, she finished off the remaining contents of her glass and let the bartender scoop up the glass. She took the new glass in her hand and spun around on the barstool, elbows propped on the counter. She leaned her back against the edge and slowly glanced around the club. There were no faces that stood out in the dim lighting, just groups of guys buying lap dances and some gathered around the stage. Dev had never been one for mingling or conversing, but tonight may have to be different if someone didn’t approach her soon.

notes: it's sort of crappy, but my muse is a little dead lately.

[JASON KURT ASTOR]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, border-radius: 2em; -moz-border-radius: 2em; background-image:url(http://i54.tinypic.com/14e9a45.jpg), width: 400px; height: 400px;] i'm all washed out by the side of the road broken bones matilda left a note with a rose saying baby honey child i love you so long but you deserve much better than me so i'm just burning all around all the miles on the road and i'm never going back and i'm never going home i been gone too long i been less right than wrong - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - i lost so much blood in the falling out The office door slammed behind Jason with a deliberately violent snap. He winced. The sound wasn’t good with his pounding head. The cussing out he’d just taken was still ringing in his ears. His boss wasn’t pleased with him tonight. You turn up here, two and a half hours late, stinking of booze and not able to stand up straight? What fucking use are you to me? You think you’re working tonight? Fuck off, Jason. Go home and dry out. Sort your fucking life out or don’t bother coming back. He always said that. How many times had Jason been told to go home and sort his life out or he wouldn’t have a job tomorrow? So many times. Yet there was always a job here, waiting for him, when he snuck back in with his tail between his legs, a muttered ‘sorry’ lying dormant on his lips. His theory was that the old man was sentimental. Too soft to kick him to the curb and let him fend for himself, no matter how much he fucked around. Jason was very lucky there were still soft people around here, or he probably wouldn’t have lived this long. He stood for a little while in the narrow hallway that separated the boss’ office from the stripper’s dressing room, leaning against the wall, ears ringing, head pounding, a thick nauseous feeling coating his throat. The music was low, some sort of soft jazzy number, slipping quietly beneath the door that lead to the bar. His nose was full of the stench of dry ice, cigarette smoke and perfume. He swallowed. His throat, dry, sore, so thick it seemed reluctant to function. He could really do with a drink. That, or a bullet in the head. He jerked himself upright, gave his rigid shoulders a sluggish little shake to loosen them, and then staggered down the length of the corridor, elbowing his way through the employee door and into the bar. In some of the booths on the far side of the room, several lap dances were occurring. Two strip teases on the stage happening side by side. He stopped to watch with mild interest for a handful of seconds, but couldn’t really enjoy it. That was the only thing about working in this place – no enjoyment at all to be found in strippers. He knew all those girls. Knew their names. Knew little things about them. Emily had a four year old kid. Jean was stripping to pay her way through law school. Roxanne’s real name was Wendy, and she’d chosen the moniker because of the Police song. Etcetera, etcetera. Without the mystery, a stripper loses her shine. He turned away, crossing the room to slide onto a stool towards the shadowy end of the bar. The bar tender was some guy he didn’t know well. The face, but not the name. New. He signalled for his attention with two fingers in the air. “Four Horsemen. On my tab.” He watched the new guy fumble to pour the shot, adding too much Jack and not enough Jameson. Poor new guy, fucking things up. Jason could have done a better job, even in his current semi-inebriated state. He downed the shot dutifully though, then slammed the empty glass back onto the bar. Grimaced. Well, that certainly burnt the thickness from his throat. “Aren’t you working tonight?” “The old man gave me a night off.” Jason replied flatly. “Another shot.” “So I’m supposed to cover the bar on my own?” The kid said. He’d temporarily stopped what he was doing. Making no move to either fetch Jason’s shot or to respond to the sudden flurry of movement down the far end of the bar, where what appeared to be a bachelor party were banging their fists on the counter impatiently. “I could come back there and help you.” Jason answered levelly. It was quite plainly obvious that he couldn’t. His hands were shaking so hard that even wrapped around the edge of the bar, the tremor in them was clear. It made the offer of help seem like a threat. “No. That’s fine.” New guy poured him his second shot and scurried off towards the bachelor party. After he’d gone, Jason took the opportunity to glance over his shoulder. The girls were still doing what they did best. Everyone else in the bar seemed grey and hazy. Faceless men. The occasional blurred woman. He turned back. Glanced to either side of him. The neighbour on his right hand side was slumped face down on the bar. But two seats to his left, there was a girl, elbows leaning back on the bar. She had blonde hair atop her blur of a face. It reminded him of Grace, and so he decided that he liked this girl, and should approach her. He moved up to the stool next to her. “I know you? You look like someone I know.” He asked without preamble. note -- nah, it was good. :]]] ♥ ♥ ♥ template by hay shay ! @ caution 2.0 LYRICS BY THE GASLIGHT ANTHEM

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[DEVIN OLIVIA WARD]

Dev continued to sip from her martini glass. She was on number four now, the tab only increasing with every drink. She pondered getting some shots after this drink was done. Her hope of bumping into a familiar face had gone, considering the few moments that she had already been here she hadn’t managed to make out a single face. She had no intention of circling the club, as it had filled with a bachelor party and some groups of men who looked like they had come from work.

She contemplated texting Kit, her older brother. Kit was always down for a night at the strip club. She knew the moment Kit got her, conversation would switch to Sienna. Pregnant, little sister Sienna. She had felt bad for Sienna, the reaction she had received from Kit, and the shunning she would no doubt receive from their parents. All those combined with the fact that Sienna only knew the name and occupation of her baby daddy made Dev care this time. Normally Devin avoided all the problems her siblings encountered, all the family outings, socializations. Hell, Devin chose to avoid her family altogether. This time, was different. She knew what Sienna was going through wasn’t easy and Devin had decided that she would be there for Sienna this time.

It wasn’t like Dev to worry about stuff. She finished off her drink and toyed with the empty glass in her hand. A commotion to her left caused her to revert back to reality. That was enough worrying and stressing about family problems for one night. The commotion had come from a guy a few barstools over; she could smell the booze on him and heard the slurring in his voice. Something about him seemed familiar, but Dev couldn’t place a memory or a name to him. She couldn’t make out the exact conversation going on between him and the young bartender, but it sounded like they were arguing about work.

That was when it hit Dev. The drunken mess was Jason Kurt Astor. How she remembered his name, amazed her. The memory pooled into her mind; it had happened a few weeks ago, Devin had been out on her usual, lonely strip club night. Sipping cosmopolitan after cosmopolitan alone at the bar. Jason had been the bartender; she had flirted with him after her sixth drink and ended up spending the entire night talking to him, hitting on him, and getting drunk. By the time closing hour had rolled around, Dev had drunkenly decided to go home with him. He was nearly as drunk as she was at the time, even though he had been working. Point blank, they cabbed to his place, did the dirty, and passed out in a drunken mess of sheets. The next morning, Dev had quietly gathered her things, gotten dressed, and tiptoed out of his apartment. She hadn’t seen him or heard from him since that night and she had no intention of seeing or hearing from him again.

Now that he was only two barstools away, Dev wanted to collect her things and leave. She was already feeling the alcohol and knew this night wouldn’t end well if he recognized her. Before she even had a chance to collect herself, Jason was moving her way. As he neared closer, the smell of alcohol strengthened, almost burning her nose. He sat on the stool next to her and spoke, “I know you? You look like someone I know.”

Devin exhaled, relieved he hadn’t recognized her. Was she in the clear? Could this be a restart? Dev turned to him, playing a smile upon her lips. “I’m Devin. Don’t believe we’ve met before,” she answered, nonchalantly. She pushed a strand of hair away from her face as she turned her body back toward the bar. She signalled for the bartender, ordered two shots of tequila and another cosmopolitan. She turned to catch a glance at Jason, taking in his drunken expression. He was exactly the way she remembered. She took the shots, without salt or lemon, and grimaced at the end. Tequila never tasted any better, no matter how drunk she felt. She gulped from the martini glass, her attempt at killing the dreadful tequila taste. She spun to face him, crossing one leg over the other and waited for him to speak again.


notes: i rambled a lot. also, i decided this would be post-hook-up. (:

[JASON KURT ASTOR]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, border-radius: 2em; -moz-border-radius: 2em; background-image:url(http://i54.tinypic.com/14e9a45.jpg), width: 400px; height: 400px;] i'm all washed out by the side of the road broken bones matilda left a note with a rose saying baby honey child i love you so long but you deserve much better than me so i'm just burning all around all the miles on the road and i'm never going back and i'm never going home i been gone too long i been less right than wrong - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - i lost so much blood in the falling out “I’m Devin. Don’t believe we’ve met before.” She was smiling. Well, maybe. It was very hard to tell when her face was shifting around like that. He blinked, trying to bring her into focus. It didn’t work. He glanced up a little instead, watching the play of the dim bar lighting on her hair. Nice. Pretty. Grace had blonde hair. He liked blondes. Well, he thought he did. Hard to be sure at the moment. “Devin. Devin… Devin.” He repeated the name, tasting it. Was it familiar? Maybe. Something about it. The way it formed and felt on his drunken tongue. It felt like he’d said it before. But that would be impossible. Clearly she didn’t recognise him, and Devin was an unusual enough name that it was unlikely he would know a different one. Finally he shook his head, dismissing the thought. “I’m Jason.” He downed his shot, and imagined he could feel the brain cells dying. He watched her move, turning back towards the bar, fascinated by the fluid grace of her. Holy shit, it was like she was dancing, spinning around, signalling for a drink. While the bar tender was fixing her shots and a cosmopolitan, he took the opportunity to order another drink. He thought another shot might kill him, so he played it safe. Whiskey sour. It was a whiskey day. He liked to alternate his liquors, day by day. He watched her knock back her shots and gulp prodigiously from her glass. “Easy there honey, you’ll make yourself sick.” He murmured, taking a sip from his drink and grimacing at the taste. God, that stupid kid was just no good with mixing. Assuming Jason did still have a job the next time he turned up here, he would have to educate the little shit. He got distracted from this train of thought because his new friend turned back to face him – God, the way she moved, it was insane. She crossed one leg over the other, and for a few oblivious seconds he stared. Right at her legs. They were nice legs. Lovely legs. He shook himself, trying to snap out of it. Looked back into the blur where her face should be. “So why a strip club, Devin?” He slurred. “Of all the gin joints in all the towns in all the world, you walk into this one. You like the ladies? The ladies are nice. ‘Specially those ones.” He jerked his head in the direction of the stage. “They’re sweet as anything.” He took another long sip from his drink. Shuddered. Then raised his glass in her direction. “A toast to the ladies. I’ll drink to that.” He did, without waiting for her to respond. note -- your rambling was lovely. and post-hook up works! i wasn't sure, lol. ♥ ♥ ♥ template by hay shay ! @ caution 2.0 LYRICS BY THE GASLIGHT ANTHEM

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