hstarke

[hstarke]

"Pride? Honor?" He guesses. "Whatever the opposite of what a humiliation kink is?"

Hans looks down at his son, who yes, had been paying attention all along. It's noticeable how his tone changes, when addressing him: "How old are you, buddy?"

First, Henry holds up one finger. Then, another. Once happy with his decision, the toddler announces: "Two!"

"Yeah, that's right." Beat. "And what's your name?"

"Hen-ry."

"Yeah, this is Heath. He drives cars, like on TV. The fast ones Daddy likes."

"Daddy likes Ferrari."

Back to Heath, he grins proudly. "See? And they say I'm a shit parent."

"in this economy? what makes ya think i ain’t already thought ‘bout that?” heath admitted, rolling his shoulders back. he was a good sport, after all “i’ve been wearin’ red goin’ on thirteen years straight. think i'm due for a break" that, and the fact he has community service on the weekends.

“how old is he?” he asked, his eyes tracking henry. it still felt odd to associate hans with the word father

[hstarke]

The tease earns a low, hearty laugh from him. Hans likes her, he really does.

"Not need," a half-roll of his eyes, then. "But I know some chicks like to get the universe involved. Some use crystals and candles, or whatever. others use... grapes." Beat. "I'm just fucking with you, Kumar. You could get any guy in the room if ya wanted to, and we both know it."

He's shifted in place, then welcoming the entirety of the space into view.

"I feel good where I am," Hans tells her, studying the busy room. "But climbing higher never hurt anybody." At the banks, there are few positions higher than his own. He almost wonders what would become of his ambition, if he reached the very top — where then, would he strive to go? "'Hans Starke, CEO' has a good ring to it, dontchathink?"

“You love it,” she teased back with a grin before rolling her eyes. In all honesty she hadn’t even realized she’d said those words and how he, of course, would take them in the other meaning. It amused her nonetheless as she took a sip from her drink.

“And by asking me if I was going to take part in the tradition are you implying I need to use grapes to get laid?” She asked with a raised brow before shaking her head. “I’m almost insulted.” 

Zara rolled her eyes at his unfinished sentence, almost filling in the blanks for herself before she heard him look back at her once he was finished with the other. “Thank you, it’s been pretty hectic but I luckily I still enjoy what I do. Speaking of though—how are things going with you? Any career changes ahead?” 

[hstarke]

"Jeez." He makes a mental note to be glad that Henry isn't scared of monsters, nor of the dark. Not yet, at least. "And then you grew up and realized monsters look pretty fucking normal instead?" The setting of the bar makes this example an easy one to follow — how many bodies here tonight, hid skeletons at home?

Ask him how he knows.

As for work — "What are ya waiting for?"

Levi chuckled and nodded his head. "I know what you mean, every night before bed we have to bring out the anti monster spray," he spoke chuckling as he shaked his head. "I remember my grandfather telling me a long time ago until I was three I strongly believed that there was monster under my bed and all that but, I know my case was a little bit different especially with my family." he sighed before taking a sip of his drink.

"Awwww, am glad to hear that honestly," he smiled. "Not yet, I go back to work fully in February."

[hstarke]

"It almost sounds like you're interested in them," Hans offers back, in that daring way he does. And though his eyes are icy, what they radiate is the truth: "You won't regret it, Ms Rinehart. I can promise you that."

I hope your wife isn’t the jealous type, she says, and Hans smiles. I tend to work closely with my financial advisors. Staring down at his wedding ring, Hans turns the tri-toned metal back and around his finger, playing with it for a moment. "Yeah, yeah — we worked on jealously some time ago. We both know, there's no Wall Street without late night meetings."

──there is a teasing smirk that curls on the corner of her lips at his response; she likes this little game with this handsome stranger, she can’t lie —the wordplay, the back and forth. she gets the impression he is a man who likes money and power and, unsurprisingly, they seem to have this in common. for now, it shall suffice. It keeps her curiosity tingling.

“it almost sounds like you are selling me your services,” and the way her voice sinks into a little coy drawl makes it clear she is implying another kind, not the one they are speaking of. “but I will take you up on the offer…” Stella concludes, still in a very coquettish manner, meeting his piercing blue eyes with a light smirk. “and if I don’t like it…” she trails off, pretending to think for a moment; lips pressed against the rim of her glass in such an elegant manner while she tastes the contents. “I hope your wife isn’t the jealous type…I tend to work closely with my financial advisors…”

[hstarke]

"Don't do that to me, you fucking vixen," he jokes. "You know 'market' and 'stock' are my favorite words." Like a puppy waiting at the door with a leash in its mouth.

Then, a double-take. "Success? I thought the grapes were for getting laid." Regardless, it seems like skepticism runs in the blood pumped through Wall Street minds. Hans barely believed in God, let alone rituals like these.

"I didn't eat any grapes, but I ate a lot of— Hey, buddy," a hand at his shoulder, which then turns into a handshake, nearly makes him lose balance. "Happy New Year. Big year, yeah. Let's catch up soon."

The billionaire — a likely shared client — mumbles something else, then walks right off.

Back to Zara. "Congrats on the new position, by the way."

Zara had been glancing around the event, not missing the way the dresses were all glitzy (just like hers), and the overall vibe very much one that required those fake niceties that she was just very exhausted from. So when she spotted a familiar face making their way over, she wasn't entirely sure if she was grateful or bothered just yet.

"Haven't you heard? Most of the local markets are out of stock," she mused before holding up her tiny clutch that barely fit her cell phone and her keys.

"Besides--this is merely for show, I don't think I could smuggle any grapes into this party."

She had heard of the tradition of course but Zara liked to think she was in charge of her own destiny and so that would be wasted on her. "But don't tell me--you've done it before haven't you? It's what got you all the success you're currently enjoying, am I right?"

[hstarke]

"Yeah, yeah," Hans shrugs, "apparently there isn't an age. At first they can't sleep because they're hungry, then it's nightmares, or whatever." It's only life, proving something that he's always known: that parenting is a life-time commitment. Twenty years from now, certainly his son would still be losing sleep over something entirely different.

And he would only be one phone call away.

"Little guy's doing good. Making jokes and everything." The smile, albeit shielded by the whiskey glass, is genuine. "Are ya back to work yet?"

"I am doing good," the male replied with a smile on his face looking at his friend. Levi did not remember when he had a free night like this when he was not working. It was often hard for the doctor to take a moment, feeling bad to leave his son alone. He knew that he would be checking in on his phone often. He was also very thankful for technology, making it easy it easy to check in on his kid. "He is thankfully and he has passed that age," he answered with a chuckle.

"What's new? How is the kiddo?"

[hstarke]

@zaraxkumar setting: NYE Garden Party at The Terrace

Parties like these have his name written all over — in bad, but enticing calligraphy. Something in his blood draws him to this reality, and his eyes always do well to search and find the most interesting people in the room; worth his time and boyish smiles, all that smooth talk and offers of a good time.

"Tell me," he quips, "you're not scouting the room for a table to eat twelve grapes under."

[hstarke]

@elizabeaufort setting: NYE Garden Party at The Terrace

Never did they meet at conventional places. Never, either, by intent rather than chance. You'd think he'd have more intimacy with someone wh'd spent most of their hours together, either half-dressed or on his lap.

Yet, their lives have stayed entirely separate — up until recent events. How does one apologize for an uncivil tone? If you're Hans Starke, the answer is obvious:

"D'you want a drink?" Smooth, really.

[hstarke]

HANS STARKE at the NYE GARDEN PARTY AT THE TERRACE.

White man wears boring suit to yet another event, are we surprised? Still, he's in his element — which is, any party where schmoozing is involved. There with Adam (of course), with a whiskey always in hand, and a plan to only return home late into the night.

[hstarke]

What if you were understood?

"Pigs would start flying and no one wants that."

Send me ‘What If’ scenarios for my muse to answer.

[hstarke]

@heath-morgan

Something about allowing his son to sit on a stranger's lap gives Hans the heebie-jeebies. And so he doesn't, instead just watching quote-unquote 'Santa' from afar as a crowd of children wait for their turn.

"Couple more inches on that beard, buddy," Hans jokes, "and you could've gotten a holiday gig this year." Henry is by his side, his little hand in Hans's hold. "You still got that red suit?"

[hstarke]

Cheeky, comes a wink and that typical Wall Street cadence of his. "No comment."

So his people reading skills are off — but only just slightly so. On his best day, Hans could have guessed the station and badge number, too. Alas.

"Yeah, I can see that," Hans says. "Bleedin' heart, and all. Was that it?"

As for himself, it hadn't been. Parental pressure, toxic masculinity, and pretty much the only option. He'd only ever started making decisions for himself with thirty years on his back and a few lasting injuries he would never forgive the field for.

"Basic training's fine," he scoffs, flicking his cigarette's ashes away and onto the ground. "The buzzcut is what gets ya."

selim tries to withhold knowing laughter but it escapes at the last second; wasn't that what wall street was all about? "well then," the agent grins, raising his eyebrows. "which one do you think i am? or do you think i'm an outlier?" at first, the other's eyes on him doesn't move him, he confirms the first question with a nod and a simple 'i've never picked up the habit' - it's the following question that concerns him. the agent watches the banker for a moment before finally, "retired cop," it's an answer that holds some truth while not giving hannes the full picture. "i wouldn't have survived a day in basic training."

[hstarke]

Send me ‘What If’ scenarios for my muse to answer.

[hstarke]

It's like a conversation between wolves, both speaking under the masks of sheep. The coy cadence, questions posed as what ifs. It's exciting, he can't lie.

"Just a small percentage," he says. "The more you make, the more I make."

Though, a small percentage of millions is still millions. They both know it well.

"The price is high, but I'll tell you what." He shifts, and leans against the bar on his side. Her eyes are icy, focused. So are his. "I'll give ya a test drive for free." Beat. "If you like it, you pay me. If you don't—" He scoffs, giving way for that boyish grin to flourish once more. "Trust me, you will."

──the example used almost made her laugh, but she could see his point; and he was right, of course, but she had never thought of it —then again the circumstances revolving around the reason she left were quite dire, live or die kind of thing as dramatic as it sounded, and she hadn’t fully considered everything. “fair point…” she smiled. the following words made her give an amused smile, even if she had more or less suspected it when he spoke, so confidently, of how she should better handle the donations.

“say, someone is interested in your services…” a beat as her hand coyly slid up the length of his forearm; her gaze momentarily following the movement before meeting his eyes, “what is your price, then?”

[hstarke]

Hans scoffs into his drink, grinning against the glass. "Hear that a lot in New York City," he says. "It's always whores, or coke dealers."

Don't, the shrug all but says, ask me how I know.

"Is that a no on the cigarette, or—?" He lights his own, in the meanwhile. And whilst watching Selim from behind the flame, that odd feeling of familiarity strikes again. Mannerisms, a guard seemingly alway up. "Did you ever serve?"

selim snorts as a response. the chances that halloween costumes had been chosen by means of practicality rather than creativity were high; after-all, in a costume such as the one hannes was referencing hiding weapons and drugs seemed awfully difficult. although he's thinking it, it remains only a thought. "it's as if everybody in this club took the spooky essence of halloween seriously - unlike you, i was starting to lose hope in that regard."

a quick shake of his head; an amused chuckle; and then his decision - would he continue playing the role he was in when he met the banker? or would he simply allow himself to blend in with the people he wished to know more about? "i'm never off the clock." selim admits. "even when, technically speaking, i am."

[hstarke]

"You're not in Australia anymore, though," he says. "If you're going to be spending your money here, then you need to be protecting it here. It's as if you left your bodyguards back home, too. How would they look out for you, if you're not there?"

Stella's musings bring that boyish smile back onto his lips — like he's caught red-handed being the best student in class. "I'm a financier. Wall Street. I do wealth management, specifically." He meets her eye as if to tease, Can you tell? "...And I don't do anything for free."

──a pearl of laughter fell from her lips at his response; Stella knew more or less how things worked, despite not being the one handling those at the family company, or any of the ones she had recently acquired, to be frank. “that’s why he insists he handles those back in Australia,” she laughed once again —he always nagged her to make a donation, yearly, and she did mostly around Christmas, and had a specific organization she donated every year too, always the same amount of money. “I should have taken him with me,” she joked as if she had a clue how it worked; all she knew how to do was make more profit, find products people would want to buy, make the right investments. “it sounds like you know your stuff, huh…” she mused, looking at him over the rim of her glass as she took a sip. “you always offer advice so eagerly for free?” she teased.

[hstarke]

No babysitters for him — Hans didn't believe in them —, but a partner who was more than glad to spend time with their little one while daddy got one, or two, or many drinks with friends after work.

"Yeah, tell me about it." The suit and tie feel restrictive, but he's not ready to undo any of it yet. "How you doing, buddy?" His phone is placed on the bar counter, screen facing down. "Sleeping through the night yet?"

starter for @hstarke

Levi did not consider a lot of people friends, he was someone that kept to himself. He did not hang out with people much, he rarely had this much free time nor the energy to hang out with people. He was often drained after a long shift at the hospital and he spent his remaining energy being there for his son who always came first. A lot of his few friends understood especially since they themselves were often busy. Tonight was one he had been looking forward to and was excited about. He had found a babysitter for the night and he was off the next day so he had texted Hans and decided to grab drinks with him.

Levi had a beer in his hand, nursing his drink when he saw his friend and smiled. "Been awhile," he spoke with a smile.