• • In For A Penny

[Kensington Olivia Summers]

There wasn’t much in this world Kensington would turn down. She would do anything at all once just to get a rise from her parents; something that rarely happened these days since she’d shocked them one too many times as a child. Jumping off a cliff had given her mother a fright but her father had only laughed and welcomed her to the club. She took the family jeep for a spin when she’d been fourteen and while her father choked back curses, her mother simply shook her head and told them the tale of when she’d done the same; only her car of choice had belonged to her arts teacher at boarding school and instead of mentioning the adventure to the headmistress, she made a deal with the then fifteen year old Annabelle. These days, Kensi was pretty sure the only thing that would shock her parents would be if she told them she’d met an man and was settling down for a real life with babies and a nine to five.

And that wasn’t likely to happen. At nineteen, Kensi was just starting to live. She didn’t want to be tied down to any single person. She didn’t even like waking up next to her flirtation from the night before! Which was probably why she always ventured off to their place so she could gather her things and slip away sometime in the night like some masked vigilante. Her escapades in the city would probably have her parent’s cringing but what they didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them and Kensi wasn’t about to tell them how she really spent her Friday and Saturday nights; they’d have her locked away with the nuns in a second! She was definitely a troublemaker but at least she could laugh about it. And so far it hadn’t landed her with a pair of shiny new bracelets so she wasn’t going to give it up any time soon.

She was thinking about what sort of trouble she could get into in New York the entire flight and now that the plane had come to a stop, she was itching to turn her phone back on and scroll through the contact list she had to find someone willing to get into a bit of harmless trouble at the clubs. Kensi had been the good, preacher’s daughter while she’d been back in Georgia. At least, while she’d been with her parents, she’d played the part of the innocent, good little girl for her parents. Outside their prying eyes, she was a different girl with her cut off jeans a half inch shy of indecent and her vest top was on the ground more than it was on her torso. She might have spent the first two years of her life in London and she might have called it home but anytime of the year around Tybee Island with the sun and the waves was where Kensi really loved to be. The whole place was decked out for the holidays with Christmas trees and holly wreaths at every turn and Christmas carols played on every radio station, in every shop and home. Plus, there wasn’t a lick of that terrible cold, white snow on the ground, forcing the wild teenager into jeans and jumpers.

But she was also glad that the plane had landed in New York and she could get on with her city life once again. There was only so much to be done in Georgia before the same old faces got boring again. She’d seen them all through high school and now that she was away, she wasn’t exactly jumping at the chance to be around them again. She’d already had her flings with the ones that held her interest, she wasn’t interested in going a second round with any of them; well, maybe one but he was engaged and that was a hard line for Kensi. She barely waited for the flight attendants to tell them they were allowed out of their seats before Kensi was gathering her carry-on pieces and heading for the front of the plane. She’d flown enough times before to know how long it would take before the luggage would be taken from the plane and find itself on the carousel and she wanted to take that time getting a drink at one of the airport bars.

She carried herself in a way that belied her age but if she was still asked for her ID, she would happy hand over her Georgia driver’s license. It was different than the New York one she’d noticed and it wasn’t as easily read if you didn’t see them often. Most times when Kensi had produced the little card, the bouncers or bartenders just got frustrated and let her continue. So with her head held high and her heels higher, she walked up to the first bar she saw and slipped into a stool, making sure to smooth down her skirt in the process. “Last Word, please.” She said in a bored tone as she set her purse on the bar top before turning her attention back to her phone as if she had an important e-mail that couldn’t wait. Idly, she wondered if the bartender even knew what the drink was; it was hardly a common place drink but Kensington had her hopes anyway.

Tag || @open!
Words || 966
Clothes || Fresh Off The Runway!
Music || Bottoms Up --Brantley Gilbert
Notes || <3!

[milo christian stalone]

[

Milo hated flying. He wasn’t a comfortable flyer, and he didn’t think he ever would be. He struggled to find comfort in anything that was defying gravity with engines being the only thing keeping them thousands of feet from the ground below. Milo had hardly been impressed with these arrangements, but he had only a short window of time to get home and back again to celebrate his sister’s engagement. It was an event he apparently couldn’t miss, according to his mother, and he couldn’t send his congratulations in a card. He was already the black sheep of the family, but if he didn’t show up for the big party his dad was throwing for his darling daughter, then Milo might very well find him on the outside of the family looking in for the rest of time. To get through the flight, Milo had been taking advantage of those small bottles and blasting music through his headphones, taking a chance to check out some new bands who he hoped to see come the summer. He was thinking of maybe heading back out there for some travelling, hitting up the festivals and the tours once more, this time as a fan and not as a member of staff, hauling equipment around for the bands.

The moment the plane hit the runway, Milo was one the first clambering out of his seat and pulling his duffel bag from the overhead. He had no other luggage to collect and have stuffed enough clothes for the short trip into his carry on. He hated flying and hated the airports just as much, so he didn’t want to spend unnecessary time at the luggage carousel, watching people checking every single piece of luggage when it came by whether it looked like theirs or not. The only thing Milo liked at the airport was duty free, and the bars. He could make himself at home there and pick himself up something fun to ease the pain of the flights if they were long distance. Sadly, this time, the only stop he could make was the bar. It might have been early in the day, but Milo would either drink here or he would drink at Wilder’s, and he had a feeling his friend would appreciate the former more. He had a feeling he was already outstaying his welcome on the couch there, but he still had a while to go before his bank account would be at an amount nice enough for him to toss his belongings back into his car and hit the road again.

Milo enjoyed his travelling, loved every moment of it, but it required cash, and Milo didn’t always find himself fortunate to land in a place where work was just there waiting for him. Apollo, thankfully, was practically everything he had been doing for the last several years and it was a solid place to work to refill his account. The only real downside was that it wasn’t quite fulltime, and so it was a slower process than he would like. At least New York was far from being a boring city. He had found himself in a few of them over the years, prowling about looking for some kind of excitement and finding a Dunkin’ Donuts to be the only good thing around. Dropping his bag to the floor and lowering himself to a stool at the bar, Milo pulled a note from his wallet and tossed it onto the top. “Corona and lime, when you’re ready.” He said, knowing that he was already feeling some minor effects from the dozen mini bottles he had emptied on the flight back from Cheyenne. He had needed something to steel his nerves for the flight.

• • •

TAGGED! Kensington Olivia Summers
WORDS! 626!
OUTFIT! Rocking Roadie!
LYRICS! I’m Alive - - - Aaron Tveit
NOTES! <3 <3 <3

[Kensington Olivia Summers]

Kensington wasn't exactly a fan of going home these days. It was mostly due to the fact that Sloan, her brother, hated the long drive from New York to Georgia and always chose to fly and the little known fact that Kensi wasn't particularly fond of flying. Well, technically she hated the landing and the taking off parts of flying. Being up in the air, hurtling across land and sea at speeds that made her brain shut down didn't bother her nearly as much as those other parts did. She could pretend she was on a train or something else on the ground when they were actually flying. And once they were firmly on the ground again, all her fear and anxiety disappeared instantly. It was obviously all in her head but a fear, no matter how silly or childish, was still a fear.

However, if she had known Sloan was going to be staying an extra week, she would have driven their shared car down to Georgia alone and left him to deal with the flight and all that hassle on his own. He didn't feel the same way about flying as she did, often teasing Kensi about her silly fears. She fought him off though, arguing her point well and enough that he usually just shut up after a couple minutes of trying. It was actually a little difficult to see them as close siblings, they bickered so often but they were. Most of the time their fights were overdramatised anyway and most definitely were not as heated as they sounded; ever. Neither of them were particularly fond of rules, often breaking them more than following them but they'd never broken the rules they'd set out for themselves. They could and had tossed nearly every rule their parents pushed on them but if one of them said it, it was a line never crossed.

They were peculiar siblings with a penchant for trouble like that but they always had each other's back when they needed it. "Save your money. I'm feeling generous today." She said when another patron sat at the bar only a seat down from her, looking about as bad as she felt. she could only assume it had either been a long flight or he enjoyed flying about as much as she did. "Thanks." She said, automatically, to the bartender when he'd finally placed her drink on the cardboard coaster in front of her. It was an awkward drink to roder since nearly everyone gave her the same blank look and she had to tell them how to make the drink she ordered. A bartender she was definitely not and yet found herself doing the job of one a hell of a lot better than half of the ones she came across.

Tag || milo christian stalone!
Words || 467
Clothes || Fresh Off The Runway!
Music || Bottoms Up --Brantley Gilbert
Notes || <3!

[milo christian stalone]

[

The whole time Milo had been a roadie he had loved the driving part of the job. Travelling from city to city, venue to venue, it was incredible from behind the wheel or in the passenger seat. The open road was so exhilarating for him, and a convoy of touring crew and band members made it an amazing time. They would stop off even when they weren’t supposed to because a sunset looked just perfect, or because there was an unknown little spot nearby that one person wanted to show to the rest of them, and then the fun would begin. A couple of nights when they had the time to spare they had camped out in the middle of nowhere between places, getting drunk on cheap beer and listening to some new material the bands they were supporting were working on. It was too incredible for words and Milo honestly caught himself wondering why he had given it all up sometimes. New York was fantastic, but it was nothing more than a concrete jungle with suited figures trying to find a million dollars, and desperate starlets trying to find their fame.

Milo just kept reminding himself that this wasn’t home. None of this was permanent. It was just another stop off point for a little while. Soon enough this chapter would come to an end and he would be chasing another adventure somewhere else. Being a roadie had been fun, but after a while it was the same old thing only with a different set list. The screaming teenage girls seemed more desperate and so many of them scared Milo with how their skinny appearances and sun kissed skin looked deliberate, rather than natural. Materialism was taking over fast, and he had bailed before the music business was totally choked with people who wanted nothing more than money and pretty things that cost more than they were ever worth. He had liked the travelling, finding meaning in music, and meeting people who were inspired or saved by lyrics. So much of that seemed lost now, or maybe he had just been getting too old, the fans too young.

Glancing across at the girl on the stool, he chuckled to himself. Speaking of too young he could have sworn her fresh face should have caught the attention of the bartender. Not that Milo was going to rat her out. He had been doing far more, and probably far worse way back when he was still in high school. It just always amused him how blind some people could be, or maybe the guy serving the drinks just didn’t give a damn. “Some might say it’s not chivalrous if I let you pay, but I’m not about to turn down a free drink.” Milo said honestly, leaning on the bar, thanking the bartender when he placed the ice cold bottle of Corona in front of him, the wedge of lime already comfortable at the bottom. After the unnerving flight back from Cheyenne, this was at least what Milo needed. “I’m Milo, by the way.”

• • •

TAGGED! Kensington Olivia Summers
WORDS! 517!
OUTFIT! Rocking Roadie!
LYRICS! I’m Alive - - - Aaron Tveit
NOTES! <3 <3 <3

[Kensington Olivia Summers]

Kensi was glad to be back in New York, even if she hadn’t exactly made it out of the airport yet. She desperately needed a drink after a flight like that. She wasn’t such a fan of flying as anyone who knew her was well aware. It was why she tried to drag someone along with her but this time it hadn’t worked out that way for her and she’d gone solo. The worst part of the whole thing was that because she had a Georgian ID, she couldn’t get away with what she could in New York so she’d had to board the plane sober and stay that way through the flight. But now that she was back where her ID card confused people, she was fairly free to do as she pleased. Plus the bartenders in New York really couldn’t get two damns whether your ID was real or fake as long as you were paying for what you were tossing back; at least what was Kensi’s experience.

“Finally a man who isn’t scared of a woman taking charge! Someone call the papers.” Kensi said, sarcastically. She was all for a man picking up the bill on a proper date but when it was things like drinks or lunch, why the hell shouldn’t a woman cover the bill? In this day and age, where a woman was working just as hard as many man to earn a living, making just as much money, why shouldn’t she be able to spend it how she wants. Of course, she wouldn’t turn down free drinks either, she wasn’t an idiot, just a bit of a feminist. But her point remained the same. If she wanted to pay for a strangers drink, why shouldn’t she be allowed to do so? If she wanted to blow her entire paycheck on that sweet pair on Manolo’s, why couldn’t she? Well, in Kensi’s case probably because those shoes would cost her two paychecks, not one and she couldn’t actually give a single damn about designer shoes; shoes yes, but the designers name, not so much.

She was sarcastic by nature, a habit that developed in the backwoods of her Georgian Island home. She was hardly some sweet Georgia peach, far from the innocence that people automatically thought of when she said she was from Georgia. She might have been sweet to her elders but that was mostly because she was too used to faking the polite conversation with them than anything else. She was a smart mouth and didn’t apologise for it at all. In fact, she enjoyed finding out what she was going to say just as much as everyone else around her. “Kensi. Pleasure.” She said, lifting her cocktail glass and taking a testing sip. It didn’t have quite as much gin as the last one she’d had so that automatically made it ten times better. This one was spot on and Kensi smiled softly as she set her drink down. “Coming or going, Milo?” She asked, looking up at her new companion.

Tag || milo christian stalone!
Words || 558
Clothes || Fresh Off The Runway!
Music || Bottoms Up --Brantley Gilbert
Notes || <3!

[milo christian stalone]

[

Milo didn’t know what he’d get up to now that the holidays were over and he was back to crashing on Wilder’s couch. He didn’t want to apartment hunt since he didn’t really know how long he’d be sticking around for. It seemed like such a waste to go through all of the hassle only to stay for a month or two at the end of it all and then hit the road again for another great adventure. New York was good though. There was plenty to keep a fickle man like Milo entertained for the time being. It was just a mystery as to how long that would last. He couldn’t say he was wholly fond of making plans and sticking to them. He much preferred to live in the moment and see where that took him. Many might not approve of it, but he had been living that way for most of his life without coming to any serious harm and while having the time of his life.

“I’m just in it for the drink really.” Milo grinned, swigging from his bottle now it was placed in front of him. He didn’t turn down free things ever. They could be samples at the store, random things he found online, or anything else. He always said yes to them. He wasn’t really one to think about where things came from, who was paying for them or anything in-between. He was the guy who almost always was strapped for cash anyway thanks to the amount of time he spent buying his own drinks, painting the town red and travelling from place to place. It would be time to split the bill somewhere and Milo’s wallet would be empty. He was forever borrowing money and paying people back six months later if they were lucky. He was a good friend for a good time, but he was unreliable and didn’t act like the grown up he was supposed to be.

How that had happened was something of a mystery. His siblings and parents were stable, reliable people. They were good with money, successful academically, and focused on their futures. Milo had been the wild one who could break a table lamp just by looking at it. He was forever changing his mind about something twice a week, and then running off on some wild adventure every five minutes. He was never settled and no one knew why. He was the anomaly in the Stalone’s perfect image. “Coming. Definitely not going anywhere this way again for a long time.” He liked buses, he liked cars, he liked just about anything that didn’t want to take off and soar through the sky. At least on land he could have some sense of direction, even a little bit of power some of the time to take a break and stretch his legs. “How about you? You sticking around or jetting off somewhere exotic?” He raised his bottle again, knocking back another mouthful of the drink.

• • •

TAGGED! Kensington Olivia Summers
WORDS! 507!
OUTFIT! Rocking Roadie!
LYRICS! I’m Alive - - - Aaron Tveit
NOTES! <3 <3 <3