hstarke

[hstarke]

"Hey, Willa," Hans smiles. A small nudge to Henry's small hand, and he mimics his father down to almost exactness: "Hey Willa!"

Bless his goddamn heart, as Henry follows each instruction: "McL—"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," call it damage control, the way Hans swoops in. "McLaren hasn't had a decent driver in fucking 15 years. Started to suck after a driver chose to retire." Right on cue, a roll of sky-blue eyes. "They still pay ya?" Never mind a fan's curiosity — this is Starke, the banker, talking. "I'd kill to see that contract."

“daddy, do you work?” willa’s sweet voice cut through the moment, her big, curious green eyes fixed on him. heath hadn’t even noticed her approach, too lost in thought to react right away. he only frowned at first, then quickly gathered himself "this here's my willa” he said, resting a hand on her shoulder before nodding toward his companion "and this fella's hans - daddy’s friend. and his kiddo, henry" his introduction was brisk, more for formality than anything else.

then, turning his attention to henry, heath crouched to the boy’s level, his sharp gaze locking onto him with quiet amusement "now listen here, bud,” he began, voice smooth but insistent "verybody and their granny's a damn ferrari fan. but not ya. ya gonna be different yah?" he paused, watching henry’s expression, then enunciated deliberately "say it - mclaren" the name rolled off his tongue like gospel, a lesson in loyalty.

with a smirk, he glanced at hans “they pay uncle heath a helluva lotta money to run his mouth ‘bout this kinda shit" his words were more for the man beside him than the child, but the point stood

[hstarke]

It's almost cinematic — the way two men skip their penthouses in lieu of some Manhattan bar instead, killing time on a Friday night.

To Hans, there's just something thrilling about a room full of strangers — and all possibilities each body carries with them. Though, he's typically the first one to approach.

"Hey," he plays into it — taking up the stool next to the man, and motioning to the bartender that he'd be at that very spot. "Good night or bad night?"

Some would say, his drink would be raising fish, because he rarely sipped his drink, and he was once more in 5 stars bar, alone just to not be in the utter silence of his penthouse, he noticed the other, and he was in his still in his stool. ❛ Hello. ❜ He says to Hans. ( @hstarke )

[hstarke]

At that, comes only a throwaway, boyish laugh. No, Zara doesn't look like it — and she damn well knows it.

"Yeah yeah," he jokes. "I'm still workshopping it." Hans, in fact, hadn't ever thought of a tagline until this very moment.

He shifts where he is — the weight from one foot to the other, drink from right hand to his left.

"Nothing comes after the top," Hans says. "It's game over. I won." Though she's right, of course — he presents the image of one who wouldn't be so easily satisfied. "Isn't that what you're trying at, too? 'The top'?" There are many similarities to be traced in their Wall Street journeys — a parallel to be drawn out of entirely different individuals. Hans inches closer to return the question right back at her, "What comes after?"

"Do I strike you as someone who likes to use crystals to find her next bed partner?" She asked him with a raised brow before she heard his words and found herself nodding in acknowledgement. She let his compliment linger in the air, her gaze following his as he surveyed the room.

“CEO Starke does have a certain... corporate charm to it,” she remarked, the faintest edge of amusement in her tone. “I can picture it now—your face on the company website, perfectly curated bio, probably a nice little tagline about how you ‘lead with vision.’”

Tilting her head, she added, “But what happens after that? You get to the top, what’s next? Or are you banking on the title alone to keep you interested? Somewhere I feel like you need more."

[hstarke]

(     *     VALENTINE’S DAY ALPHABET   !    

send some letters to find out more about my muse   !

A   :   AFFECTION.   how does your muse show affection?

B   :   BOUQUET.   does your muse like flowers? which ones are their favourite?

C   :   CHOCOLATE.   does your muse like chocolate? which one is their favourite?

D   :   DATE.   what is your muse’s ideal date? where / who with / etc?

E   :   EMBRACE.   does your muse like hugs? what are their hugs like?

F   :   FLIRT.   is your muse good at flirting? how do they flirt?

G   :   GIFT.   is your muse good at gift - giving or do they struggle to get it right?

H   :   HEART.   is your muse quick or slow to give their heart away?

I    :   I LOVE YOU.   does your muse find ‘i love you’ easy or hard to say?

J   :   JEALOUSY.   does your muse get jealous in a relationship?

K   :   KISS.   is your muse a good kisser? why / why not? 

L   :   LOVE.   who does your muse love?

M   :   MOONLIGHT.   what is your muse’s ideal date? where / who with / etc?

N   :   NAUGHTY.   what is your muse like in bed?

O   :   ODE.   does your muse have a way with words?

P   :   PARTNER.   what does your muse look for in a partner? looks / personality?

Q   :   QUESTION.   would your muse ask the big question or expect their partner to?

R   :   ROMANCE.   is your muse a romantic or a cynic?

S   :   SWEETHEART.   did your muse have a childhood sweetheart?

T   :   TRUE LOVE.   does your muse believe in true love?

U   :   UNREQUITED.   has your muse had their heart broken?

V   :   VALENTINE.   how does your muse feel about valentine’s day?

W  :   WEDDING.   would your muse get married? why / why not?

X   :   XOXO.   does your muse use / like pet names?

Y   :   YOURS.   does your muse get protective easily?

Z   :   ZZZ.   how many people has your muse slept with?

[hstarke]

RAHI | HANS | JULIAN | LEE | ANAÏS | TRISTAN

(     *     VALENTINE’S DAY ALPHABET   !    

send some letters to find out more about my muse   !

A   :   AFFECTION.   how does your muse show affection?

B   :   BOUQUET.   does your muse like flowers? which ones are their favourite?

C   :   CHOCOLATE.   does your muse like chocolate? which one is their favourite?

D   :   DATE.   what is your muse’s ideal date? where / who with / etc?

E   :   EMBRACE.   does your muse like hugs? what are their hugs like?

F   :   FLIRT.   is your muse good at flirting? how do they flirt?

G   :   GIFT.   is your muse good at gift - giving or do they struggle to get it right?

H   :   HEART.   is your muse quick or slow to give their heart away?

I    :   I LOVE YOU.   does your muse find ‘i love you’ easy or hard to say?

J   :   JEALOUSY.   does your muse get jealous in a relationship?

K   :   KISS.   is your muse a good kisser? why / why not? 

L   :   LOVE.   who does your muse love?

M   :   MOONLIGHT.   what is your muse’s ideal date? where / who with / etc?

N   :   NAUGHTY.   what is your muse like in bed?

O   :   ODE.   does your muse have a way with words?

P   :   PARTNER.   what does your muse look for in a partner? looks / personality?

Q   :   QUESTION.   would your muse ask the big question or expect their partner to?

R   :   ROMANCE.   is your muse a romantic or a cynic?

S   :   SWEETHEART.   did your muse have a childhood sweetheart?

T   :   TRUE LOVE.   does your muse believe in true love?

U   :   UNREQUITED.   has your muse had their heart broken?

V   :   VALENTINE.   how does your muse feel about valentine’s day?

W  :   WEDDING.   would your muse get married? why / why not?

X   :   XOXO.   does your muse use / like pet names?

Y   :   YOURS.   does your muse get protective easily?

Z   :   ZZZ.   how many people has your muse slept with?

[hstarke]

"Smart girl," he says then, grinning in a way that's telling. As good a salesman a he is, doubt rarely makes its way into negotiations. Though, it certainly should. "Yeah, yeah, you'll get it. I have nothing to hide."

And has that worked well for you so far?

"Still married," Hans gives as his answer. "So, pretty fucking good."

"No, you can't." Blame him, that is. "Them, a beat. "And do you want him to care?" And another. "Do you want him to be jealous?"

──she shrugged a shoulder, coyly. “almost…” she retorted in a drawl, voice lowered to above a whisper. “I’ll need proof of action,” gaze remained on his, a smirk curling on her lips. “I don’t trust words.” which was not personal, per se, but she generally preferred actions over fancy, elaborative words —she, too, was good at manipulating words and selling a better picture, after all ( she had done it for years too ).

her blue eyes fell to the fidgeting movement as he toyed with a ring on his finger. she smirked. “and has that worked well for you so far?” she inquired as her eyes met his once more. “maybe I could find a way to convince my husband that those are really necessary some times…but he is the jealous type,” a pearl of laughter fell from her lips, “but I can’t blame him…”

[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?"