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Post by Reagan Grace Moretti on Apr 11, 2012 20:54:51 GMT -5
 
Reagan liked her job. Really. She was just afraid that she would lose it because she strangled one of her costumers. It seemed that as the years and decades went by, people grew more and more selfish and incompetent. This rule even filtered into her work place, which was at one of the few, nice little restaurants at Pioneer Square. It was a preferred eatery, considering it was an environment of that of a regular restaurant, plus a bar. As a waitress, she'd been dealing with rowdy costumers for years, and it only grew harder and harder to keep her thoughts to herself. Her aggravation from her earlier work shift was probably the only reason she found herself in one of the most popular clubs in Seattle.
Reagan wasn't a party girl by any means, but she was noticeably more tolerable when she was drunk. That's when she let her walls down, even just a little. That's also why she didn't drink in public, but everyone slips up every now and then. When her work shift was over, shed gone home and took her sweet time getting ready. She wore her hair in a sleek, high ponytail, wore a blue patterned cropped top, form fitting jeans, a black leather jacket, and black combat boots. She also wore a pendent that matched her shirt, and her face was mostly bare. Like always. The only ounce of makeup on her face was a bit of black mascara and eye shadow. There was a slight glossy shine on her lips from her lipgloss. Reagan had a lot of natural beauty, but a lot of guys over looked that because of her reserved attitude and lack of makeup. By time she had finished getting ready, she was already more then half calmed down. The few drinks she'd already consumed helped numb her aggravation as well.
The club was much bigger then she anticipated. She usually drank in the comfort of her apartment, and this change in scenery was quite drastic. The dress code ranged from tight jeans and skimpy tops, all the way to tiny halter dresses and outfits that resembled swimwear. Reagan clearly wasn't a usual. She wore clothes not far off from her usual style, although the top was a bit shorter then she usually went for. She had had her jacket zipped up when she got there, but the heat made it discomforting so she unzipped the jacket, showing off some of the flat, ivory skin of her stomach. That alone made the guys stare. Even with the lack of skin showing on the rest of her body, if you didn't count her neck and face. However, Reagan hadn't come here for a sloppy hook-up or company. She'd come here to simply get drunk off her face.
And boy, wasn't she doing a good job at that. After her first few drinks she had stumbled while trying to make her way to the bathroom. Once she had gotten in there, she pretty much forgotten what she was in there for, though the stalls should have given it away. Whatever. She'd figure it out sooner or later. Reagan walked to the long line of sinks and mirrors, peering up at her reflection. Her reflection, with the usual vigilance she had etched into it, shown back hazely. She realized then how relaxed she felt. "Get a hold of yourself" she murmured to the reflection, hands gripping the marble sink. She then took a quick breath and exited the bathroom, pulling at her ponytail to make sure it was still neat, like she often did.
She pushed her way through the crowd, the lights dim and yet still somehow annoying to her eyes. People pushed into her as she tried to reclaim her seat at the bar, and one shoved her into what felt like a brick wall. She then realized that it was the back of a well built man, and she had gripped his shirt in fear she would fall and be trampled by the crowd. After a moment she only imagined she was falling becasue she was, well, tipsy, and let of go of the mans shirt. "Sorry!" she exclaimed, having to practically shout over the noise of the crowd to the back of the man, since he was still faced the other way. She silently hoped he wasn't going to be to upset about the intrusion, but her concern didn't show. Only a raised eyebrow did.
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Post by Mason Kellin Harlin on Apr 13, 2012 21:13:07 GMT -5
   Mason frequented the bar scene. It was his almost a hobby for him. It wasn’t about picking up chicks, it wasn’t about getting as drunk as hell. It was more about having fun, and just getting out of house. His house just seemed so boring now. He didn’t party a much anymore, nor did he seem to get many visitors. The apartment he lived in was also beginning to remind him of old times, when he would do lines on the table. It didn’t matter how many times he wiped the table down, or vacuumed the carpets and mopped the floor, the memory wouldn’t fade anymore. That was simply the saddest part about it.
So here was Mason, sitting alone at the bar. More than a handful of people had already approached him with hopes of getting him to dance, but he had turned them down. He didn’t feel like dancing, especially with the one guy that had asked him. He was sipping on scotch mixed with a coke; tonight he wanted a slow burn. He didn’t want to get drunk automatically, he wanted to savior the taste and get drunk slower than usual. It was one of those days where he had gotten of work later than usual and had come home to a horribly dirty house. So after hard days of work, he had come home to clean once again. He was seriously debating on hiring a maid. Though he didn’t think a maid would be as sexy as he envisioned it and that would just be sad.
Mason had decided after a while to go out on the dance floor. One of the better songs was on, and only god knew when a good one would come on again. So he set his glass down on a coaster and moved up from his spot on the bar. He hoped no one stole his drink or stool, but he carried on anyways. He walked sideways through the crowd of people, though the under age kids and overly drunks. It shocked him how many kids made it in, some of them just looked twelve! When he made it to the center, he looked around. What was up with all these little kids? Mason suddenly felt a tug on his back, though at first he irgnored it. It was probably just someone running by and accidently hitting him.
It didn’t go away. The tugging didn’t go away, so after a few more seconds he turned around. Mason was shocked by the petite figure that he seemed to loom over. She was a pretty little thing, taller than some girls. Though everyone was mostly short compared to him; Mason was almost 6’3, and he was muscular. She didn’t appear twelve, but she did appear very different.Maybe it was the outfit or how she carried herself. He smiled slowly and shook his head. ”Can I help you Miss?” He said loud enough to be heard over the music, but not loud enough to be screaming in her face.
WORDS : IDK!
STATUS : FINISHED
NOTES : Hi.
LYRICS USED : USE SOMEBODY - KINGS OF LEON
LISTENING TO : Halestorm! 
BANNER CREDIT : TANA
TAGGED : TANA |
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Post by Reagan Grace Moretti on Apr 13, 2012 22:34:53 GMT -5
Reagan had missed most of her high school experience, and therefore hadn't had the privilege to attend any typical high school parties. She was reminded of this when she had taken a close look at the crowd, and realized the majority were fuckin' teenagers. Seeing them trying to attempt 'sexy' dance moves made her feel glad she had skipped on that, erm, privilege. However, there were quite a few adults mixed with the youngsters, but their attempts at getting laid or their actions from the drinks proved they were just about as childish. She wondered for a moment why she was here again, but then remembered the drink she had left at the bar. Hard liquor. Her only regret was that she had left her drink unguarded before getting to drunk. She'd been looking forward to the hazey bliss alcohol brought on.
Not to say she was completely sober, but that bit of focus was the only reason she hadn't fallen over in the crowd or reacted to the man. She had already noticed his muscular build (considering she had run into it) and was surprised he could maintain a build like that with his height. Most men that towered like he did were usually lanky. She was exceptionally tall for a woman, standing around 5'9, but was petite, though years of being on the streets had made her muscles firm. She felt tiny compared to the man, and realized that hey, he was pretty good looking. very good looking. She hoped it wasn't just the alcohol talking, though her five years of residing in Seattle, she had never seen this man before.
Yeah, you could help me in a lot of ways, she thought to herself when he offered help (in a way totally not like her, but hey, no one ever said alcohol was reasonable). Something in the back of her mind was intimidated by the man, but, like always, she didn't let it show. She appreciated the slow grin that spread on his mouth. "Seems like these kids are awfully rowdy tonight. Thanks for the support" she said, a small, half smile creeping on her lips as well. If she had an ounce less of self control, she'd probably wink at him. It had been considered.
Despite the discussion between the two adults, the crowd around them still pulsed with the music, and someone bumped into Reagan from behind, therefore causing her to bump into the man again. "Damn kids" she murmured, glancing back up at the man. She had tor resist the urge to add a cheesy "you come here often?" after bumping into him a second time. "You know, you don't seem like someone who'd dance in this sort of crowd" she said, not being able to hold back the observation. there was a bit of a knowing glint in her clear, mint green eyes, that strayed on the lines of 'flirty'.
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