The Madness Inside • •

[stirling morpheus cotton]

When Stirling awoke on his couch and not face down on his bathroom floor he knew he needed to thank Perri once more. There was a throw draped over his body and a glass of water on his cluttered coffee table. He didn’t enjoy the aftermath of one of his benders, but obviously his last one had led him to O’Malley’s and while there his own employee had made sure he made it home in one piece and had taken enough care of him that he had stayed on the couch and not used the toilet seat as a pillow. It was a bonus, even if Stirling would rather he cut these episodes out of his life entirely. It was hardly befitting of a general manager, but he still found himself possessed to reach for a bottle, to drink a bar dry and to do reckless things whenever he had a few days off from the responsibilities of the Irish pub. Clearly, this time had been no different, though he drew a blank as to why his knuckles were bruised and busted. Maybe the London blonde could shed some light on that when Stirling text her his ashamed thanks. He didn’t like needing to be babysat, but Perri did it nevertheless, and she never seemed to look down on him for his behaviour. She was always there with a friendly smile and a joke whenever he returned to work.

Stirling sent the text and received a warm reply telling him not to worry about it just seconds later. Sometimes he wondered if the bartender ever slept herself. Groaning at the pounding at his temples, he reached for the glass of water and knocked it back before rubbing the heel of his hand against his tired eyes. He needed something stronger than water to shift his hangover, but he didn’t dare look in his kitchen. Stirling had been using up some vacation time, and after three days of binging and drinking away his troubles and the voices taunting him in his dreams, he knew he’d find no food there. He didn’t want to see even more reminders of how out of hand he had let himself get in so little time. He hadn’t been the same since everything in London, but he hated going through brilliant phases where he would be completely convinced that his life was back on track again to this. It seemed to happen without cause or reason, and the tiniest of things would set him off into this dark spiral of boozing and troublemaking. He was convinced he only held down his job because the staff at O’Malley’s were more like a family and covered for him when he slipped.

Grabbing a pair of sunglasses, despite the winter month, Stirling pulled his jacket off the arm of the chair and shoved his boots onto his feet. He needed coffee, but he wasn’t going to find anything good in his trashed apartment. Groaning when the daylight hit his face outside, Stirling stumbled the two blocks to the nearest Starbucks. He bumped into a smartly dressed man on his way in and half mumbled a non-meaningful apology as he took his place in the queue. He screamed hangover, and probably reeked of stale alcohol and the night before, but he wouldn’t be able to function without something caffeinated. Reaching the front of the line, Stirling leaned on the counter only because he didn’t think he would stay standing otherwise. “A coffee. A big one. The biggest you’ve got please, mate.” He said, pulling a crumpled note out of his back pocket and sliding it across the counter. He didn’t care for fancy flavourings or any of Starbucks’ extra treats this morning. He just wanted coffee and fast, which thankfully it seemed the young man serving seemed to understand, because he left out the interrogation for options and just put the order through, only asking for Stirling’s name as he put the Sharpie to the cup.

• • •

TAGGED! open!
WORDS! 668!
OUTFIT! Manky Manc!
LYRICS! Heartbroken 101 - - - Elise Ray
NOTES! <3

[Constance Ruslana Blake]

All of Blake’s life she’d been groomed to dance. Her mother and aunt had hoped that she would follow in their footsteps and turn to gymnastics. They were truly passionate about gymnastics and Blake couldn’t have been bothered by it in the slightest. She spent her time on the mats, twirling about and dancing to music only she could hear when she was at the gym at all. So her father suggested dance and at two years old, a year younger than what they recommend, Blake was twirling around a shiny hardwood floor as if she belonged there. She had thought her life was perfect, being able to spend so much time dancing, turning it into a full time career at such a young age. She was one of the best in Russia and it showed. She was scouted for three different private dance academy’s, she was offered positions in world famous company’s. And for the first few years after her eighth birthday, she’d gone to school but she was a quick study and what they taught over the course of a dozen or more classes, Blake picked up in two and was bored to tears afterwards. So at twelve, she signed on with a prestigious dance company and until she was sixteen, stayed with them.

All hell broke loose then and Blake felt she needed to flee from her family. Thankfully, for her she had a dance company in New York trying to woo her and without a second though, she told her father she was leaving. She thought back too often on those times when she was sixteen. It was a nightmare, one she couldn’t tell her parents about because she wasn’t supposed to be peeking through each shoe box in her mother’s closet. She knew which one had held the shoes she’d been looking for. She should have been in and out but she went snooping and stumbled across something that shattered Blake’s world. She had to get away, it was her only choice if she didn’t want her family falling apart. That’s what she told herself that morning and every other morning when she woke up in New York without her family in her spacious apartment; it was better this way.

She wouldn’t have been able to stay home and stay quiet, her temper would have flared and that ammunition would have been the first words out of her mouth when her mother yelled at her. It was the curse of a good dancer, the bad attitude. And though Blake tried to cool hers down, it still flared when she couldn’t get a step right or she messed it up when she’d been doing it perfectly until then or when someone got her order wrong. “Do you not understand the concept of your job?” She said, venom lacing every word that past her lips. She was not impressed with this coffee in her hands. “You make coffee, that’s it. Do it again.” She said, slamming the coffee cup onto the counter and crossing her arms. She barely held herself back from tapping her foot while she waited for the second coffee. If this one wasn’t better, she was going to throw it in the redhead’s face then storm out.

Tag || stirling morpheus cotton
Words || 585
Clothes || Pissy Prima donna
Music || Little Toy Guns --Carrie Underwood
Notes || <3!

[stirling morpheus cotton]

Looking at him now, especially this morning, it was hard to believe that Stirling had in fact gone to university and was actually the owner of a Master’s degree in Economics and Finance. At one point he had even worked in an office and been a suit who clocked in a regular nine to five, though he never really looked the part compared to the rest of the people who occupied the pen around him. It hadn’t lasted long though; not when he spiralled thoroughly out of control when his heart had been broken. He was still dealing with the pain from that, healing from the heartache. Stirling could say he was over she-who-would-not-be-named, but the fact that he still went on these benders would suggest otherwise. It was either that or the doctor in London had been right and Stirling had more than one screw loose in his noggin, and that was a thought he’d rather not spend any time at all thinking about.

He wanted his coffee and then his bed, and possibly bad daytime television. There was nothing like binge watching MTV with a hangover, despite how much he hated that crap when he was sober. Stirling had fallen a long way from the man he had been ten years ago, but then the fates had been cruel to him. Every time they had handed him something wonderful they had also been cold hearted bitches at the exact same time, snatching something precious from him. His parents were both gone from the world, and then she-who-would-not-be-named had upped and left before Stirling had even been able to consider that there could be anything wrong in their relationship. It was really no wonder he had ended up this way, standing in Starbucks with a raging hangover, smelling of the night before and wearing sunglasses in January.

He was waiting on his coffee with surprisingly good patience, considering how desperate he was to get back home and crawl into his bed. He sniffed, ignoring the disgusted look from the business woman next to him. It was New York City and he was far from the worst creature out here, though he might raise his hand for being the worst creature currently in Starbucks. If only they knew he was the manager of one of New York’s best Irish pubs! Still, this morning he was a wreck and a half, but he was stunned out of that thought by the loud, angry woman shouting at the counter far too close to him for his headache’s liking. “Hey, love, tone it down, would you? We could all do without your prissy attitude this morning. Especially that guy who has at least a dozen other drinks to make beside yours.” Stirling had never been able to keep his mouth shut, and the scars that had found their homes on his body in recent years had all ended up there because of his big mouth. None of that ever stopped him though. “And if you are delectably fussy, then how about you piss off home and make it yourself. As I’m sure this bloke wants to say, but needs the job too much so he’s holding his tongue.” Stirling added, his hangover having absolutely nothing to do with the way he spoke to the brunette. He didn’t stand for people giving attitude to his own staff at O’Malley’s, and he told them pretty much the same thing whenever anyone kicked off there. No one working a job deserved to be treated like crap, especially not when someone was just having a bad day.

• • •

TAGGED! Constance Ruslana Blake
WORDS! 604
OUTFIT! Manky Manc!
LYRICS! Heartbroken 101 - - - Elise Ray
NOTES! <3