Benvanderbilt - I Don't Care About Being Good.

Bemelman’s was always full of tourists who wanted in on a hitting up the bar scene. To Ben, that was perfect. He was tired of the looks, the whispers. He told himself he didn’t care about any of that, but that was far from the truth."I’m over everyone staring at me,” He mumbled, looking at the drink in front of him. “Tell me something though,” He said, turning his whole body with him as he spoke. “Why does beer always taste a lot better from the bottle rather than from the tap? I feel like I’m drinking expired apple juice.” He noted, giving his head a shake in disappointment.

quinnxarchibald‌:

Not knowing what to say, Quinn shook his head. There were so many emotions running through his head but no real words were forming. It was all just angerbetrayalfear mixing together into something dangerous. “How could you think it wouldn’t fuck things up Ben? It was me for god’s sake. The Archibald golden boy.” Quinn let out an angry sigh, resisting the urge to stomp his foot in frustration. “So you left. You ran away and let me face my parents, the media, the courts, and rehab all on my own. How kind of you.”

Ben furrowed his brows, the anger inside of him building up. He was only mad at himself. He only had a right to be mad at himself. He felt like there wouldn’t have been as many consequences if Quinn took the fall. They’d both escape unscathed. He was extremely wrong, however. “I don’t know, I wasn’t thinking straight,” He admitted. Quinn had a squeaky clean reputation compared to him. Had was the keyword. “I didn’t want to leave you to do all that shit on your own. I just didn’t know what else to do,” The guilt that Ben had after watching a man OD in front of him, unable to help, was something that was incomparable. He watched a human life leave a body. “I know it sounds bad, but...” His voice faded, realizing he shouldn’t turn this onto himself. “I should’ve just had your back,” Why couldn’t he just tell Quinn he was sorry? Why was this so hard? “I don’t know what happened.”

finnsmythe‌:

“Rum gives me a headache,” he explained. “Though it is a classic combination. Oh… that was you fighting? I heard the commotion and decided to stay out of it. God knows I don’t need to get into any more fights,” he shrugged. “No beer? That’s kind of bullshit. But maybe I just think so because I’m used to being around guys who could down pitchers by themselves. We should Postmates beer or something,” he laughed. “It’s good, yeah. I’m glad I can be here for O.”

“I would’ve gotten a lot more punches in if Monty didn’t break it up. I normally do more damage,” Ben had his fair share of fights in bars, while he was high, basically anywhere and everywhere. Nowadays he was a bit calmer and looked towards his wife to keep his impulse control in check. “Fuck yeah. I’d like to see you try to beat me in a shotgun competition,” Ben challenged, the competitive side taking over a bit. “Oh yeah, you guys are a thing or something,” He remembered hearing about that, “We should do a double date. It’s not really my thing but maybe O will enjoy it.”

planning on running back to europe now that something has gone wrong?

“Where I go is none of anyone’s business.” He answered. He was a bit defensive when it came to running away. Yes, he was a wimp when it came to facing his consequences but that was for him and only him to admit to himself. “Right now, I’m staying here.” He was at least going to finish what he started here. Beyond that was a mystery to him. “I don’t know who this concerns anyways.” He’d keep King in the loop and well, anyone else didn’t matter. “Thanks for the concern, though.” 

You ever get in a Mood where you just wanna poof off to another country, erase your history, re-write your identity, and become a mysterious figure who’s never been photographed but occasionally appears in paintings done by unknown artists

kingkirbey‌:

The second she saw Ben, King gravitated toward him, taking in his bloodied face and stained shirt. She hadn’t seen the fight but she’d heard about it immediately, the news traveling fast through the penthouse. “Jesus.” It was all she could manage to get out as she pushed him back into the kitchen and onto a bar stool. Wordlessly, she went to grab a rag and wet it in the sink, coming back to press it to Ben’s nose. She worked in silence for a few moments, tending to the crusted blood on his face before she took a deep breath and looked him in the eye. “This was still a good idea. You know it was.” It was hard to look at him and believe her own words, but she knew the guilt he carried with him would end up hurting him much more than any punch Quinn could throw. “This obviously isn’t a great start to the conversation. But.. it’ll get better with him. At least you’re trying.”

These parties never ended well. Shit always went down. Here he was thinking he was past all that drama, thinking he was way too mature for this shit. “I don’t know if I’m even trying. I couldn’t say anything to him. It was hard to even look at him. I just froze like an idiot and asked him how things were,” Ben just wanted to disappear. No, fuck that, he wanted to run. His face hurt, his hands hurt, everything fucking hurt. “What if it doesn’t? I fucked up. Quinn still seems pretty damn mad,” He just wanted to go back with King to Italy or Greece, hell even Lithuania. But part of him was doing this for her. He didn’t want her having to deal with his guilt all their lives. “I’d rather just back to our room and drink with you for the rest of the night.” That would really make him forget about the whole fight. 

@kingkirbey

Being here just made the knot in his stomach worse than it had been at overseas. He’d much rather be in Greece right now, having a Piraiki than stupid liquor. He was supposed to be tying up lose ends and potentially making amends with Quinn. That shit didn’t work. Now he just felt like a spineless asshole. And when shit hit the fan, he just needed King. Ben spit onto his shirt, trying to get the blood out once he found her for the dramatic effect. “That didn’t go well,” He admitted as he looked at his wife, “I just got pummeled by Quinn. I didn’t even know he was capable of doing that,” Ben sighed as he looked past her, “Can you please tell me again why this was a good idea?” His question was geniune, the purpose of their arrival blurred over the fact that his friendship with Quinn seemed broken beyond repair.

chessieabernathy‌:

“I guess that’s one way of seeing it,” she grumbles, silently wishing Gossip Girl didn’t have such an effect on her. Truthfully, ever since the FREYA board told her to clean up her act, the anonymous blog has become a consistent place she visits, terrified that she’ll find a secret of hers posted. She had too many things to hide, too much to lose. “I appreciate the solidarity, thanks,” Chessie chuckled, rolling her eyes at him, happy to keep the subject moving. The mention of the bartender brings another laugh, a shoulder shrugged soon after. “Oh, well. It’ll give me a story to tell about the time he met Francesca Abernathy,” she teased, putting on her best ‘high society’ voice as she said her own name. “King may be into this –” she gestured to him, laughing lightly. “Greaser-esque look. But you just look ridiculous to me.”

Gossip Girl wasn’t really a constant in his life for the past few years, so he wasn’t going to start reading it religiously now. “I’m just looking for an excuse to do it. It’d only be acceptable if you were doing it too,” He admitted as he looked at the brunette. “People will probably melt in their boots from jealousy when they hear about you.” Ben teased. "This is the European look, not a Danny Zuko one,” He replied, motioning towards his face. “You’d know that if you lived there for as long as I did.” Ben was going to remind everyone that he was abroad at least once a day. 

duchessb‌:

   “They might let them believe in Santa longer then. Beer is more accessible to most father’s sitting around wrapping presents for kids. And to be honest let’s think about this… children with dads did have a Santa Klaus if you think about it because it’s some man who drinks and shows up to give you presents and acts like he’s owed something for it.” A shrug lifts Beau’s shoulders as she glances over to Ben, pursing her lips for a moment. She wasn’t sure what caused her to go off on that tangent, but she could blame Chessie’s plying her with Champagne, if nothing else.

“Or their father might just tell them the truth.” That’s what Ben’s dad did after he moped one too many times about not being able to see Santa deliver gifts. “Good for them for still being able to wrap nicely. Maybe we should just be getting rid of the Santa myth and giving the load of work to dads. ” Were all dads that fucked up? “Yeah, that’s the difference between milk and beer. Milk makes Santa seem so pure, I guess and beer makes me think he has an alcohol problem.” Ben said with a shrug. “At least if he was having champagne, it’d make me think he was a man of superior taste.”

monty-santos‌:

“I don’t see the point in checking out more than I’m going to read, especially since I go there once a week,” Monty admitted as he started walking, “Well for people who didn’t grow up here, it’s the dream. There’s Broadway, there’s a million and a half movies that are set here.  Not to mention all of the history that happened here and is still here.  It was the first capital of the United States after all,” he continued, fully aware of how nerdy he sounded, “Plus I think that it’s that prices are that high because of the tourists.”

“It’s not about actually wanting to do it. It’s just to see if you actually can.” There was a huge difference in his mind. Sometimes he liked to do shit just to prove that he could do it. If someone said he couldn’t do it, it made him want to do it even more. New York was no big deal to him. It was his hometown, a town that made him revert to his old ways and nothing more to it. He didn’t have many ties here, or if he did he pretty much severed them. “Until Hamilton sold it down the river.” He pointed out. “I would just rather not have tourists around here.”