socialncrms

[socialncrms]

[Text]: I know I know. Sorry. [Text]: Hmmm a habit like that could be some sort of repressed urge. [Text]: But it might work out in your favor! [Text]: He probably wouldn't even know what to do with you, honestly.

[ text: ] that’s such a loaded question, Maddie

[ text: ] he’s just a man 🤭 they’re all good for about the same things, right?

[ text: ] mm…he’s pretty to look at & everyone who works in his department seems to like him

[ text: ] ooo — but I did hear he’s got this weird habit of chewing toothpicks. Like he’s borderline snacking on them or something

Even as she types the words, Alya's face contorts in a disgusted grimace.

[ text: ] ugh now all I can imagine are the tiny splinters on his tongue - that's it; I'm going to tell him 'no'

[socialncrms]

Riley caught the slip in her speech, the hesitation, the way she tested his name like it might burn her tongue. She was trying. That was enough for now.

He didn’t rush her as she spoke, just let the words come at their own pace. The way she described her brother—respectful, diligent, obedient—wasn’t exactly the profile of a man capable of what Mitsuru was being suspected of. But then, people changed. And sometimes, the ones who followed the rules too strictly were the ones who broke the hardest when those rules no longer made sense.

Her body language shifted again. That small motion, fingers brushing against her throat, the way her eyes dropped to the table. She wasn’t just pulling up old memories; she was wrestling with something. Guilt? Fear?

“You’re being more helpful than you think.” His voice was steady, quiet enough to settle any tension rather than stir it up. “A person doesn’t just become who they are overnight. If he was the kind to follow orders without question… then whose orders was he following when he disappeared?”

A beat passed, giving her room to let the question settle.

“You also said he got annoyed when you didn’t follow rules. Was he ever more than annoyed?” No accusations, no pressure. Just a path forward, laid out in front of her. It was up to her if she wanted to walk it.

Mitsuko nods at his presentation, she thinks to return the kindness. "Alright, then... call me Mitsuko if you please, si– uh, Detective... Riley." She slips trying to choose between the choices, she is definitely out of her element here and she herself can't help but feel embarrassed for herself. The detective is kind enough to speak casually, she senses no hostility at all and, maybe that's why she is still just a little unnerved. Could he see something in herself that she couldn't? Could he see her brother and the possibilities of his actions?

To help out, as she said she would, she had to step back into her childhood. She had to recall the fuzzy memories of her older brothers... She clung to those memories more often than not, surely she could bring them back out for the man. But... should she really? Her gaze remains lowered when she speaks again.

"He was... the most respectful and diligent kid out of us. We were three siblings, he was the middle child. I was the youngest. –Um... am, I guess." She pauses, her lips pursed as she tries to keep herself from shaking. It felt like betrayal, but why? Her eyes lift lightly and she can still see sincerity in the man. She can't see his darkness.

"But he was gullible, I suppose. He'd do anything and everything my parents said. I think... I–..." There's a knot that forms in her throat when she tries to speak any further. It feels like the arms of a monster are wrapping around her neck. She finds shelter staring at the table again as she tries to discreetly touch her neck and rub it lightly with her fingers. An attempt to clear her throat comes before she speaks a little more.

"He... was also dead set on following their words to the letter, no matter what. He'd get really annoyed if both our older brother or I didn't follow rules. I–..." A sigh interrupts her. "I'm not being much help right now, am I?"

[socialncrms]

Cade exhaled sharply through his nose, something close to a laugh but with none of the humor. His eyes flicked past the man, to the SUV still idling nearby, then back to him. At least one more person waiting inside, maybe more. That just meant he had to move fast.

“Yeah?” Cade muttered, voice dry. “See, that’s where you lost me. ’Cause I don’t like being told what to do.”

He didn’t give a warning. Warnings gave people time to react. Instead, his right hand shot forward, grabbed the man by the wrist before he could even think about reaching for anything, and yanked him off balance. Cade stepped in, twisting sharply, forcing the guy’s arm behind his back with enough force to make sure he felt it—painfully.

Then he drove a sharp elbow into his ribs. Once. Twice. Enough to make him stagger, to empty the air from his lungs in a choked sound.

Cade didn’t let go immediately. He leaned in, lowering his voice so only the two of them could hear. “You’re gonna get back in that car, and you’re gonna tell whoever sent you that they need to try a hell of a lot harder, because they're going to have to go through me.”

Another quick, brutal twist of the arm for emphasis. He spoke softly, unsure if Maia could even hear any of this words to him.

Then, just as quickly as he’d grabbed him, he let go, giving the guy a shove toward the SUV. His eyes stayed on the vehicle now, waiting to see if anyone else was dumb enough to step out. If they were smart, they wouldn’t. He reached back, grabbing Maia by her elbow, pulling her past him, walking at a brisk pace.

Her gaze drifts to the back of Cade's head, a rather apologetic look on her facial features. The situation isn't her fault, she knows it, but she still is blaming herself So far, their walks to her home have been like any other walks, trying to get to know each other in the early hours and no danger in sight. But things will change now.

If Cade wasn't there, she would have turned around on her heels and run, called to her father to let him know someone knows of her existence. But with the muscular tall man standing in front of her and the man who clearly doesn't know how to take a no as an answer, Maia believes she will only end up running if Cade tells her to and after the situation has calmed down, they've found a hiding place, she would call her father.

"A tough guy, huh? Trust me, you don't want any part of this." The man says, clearly not threatened by the size of the man who is between him and the lady he's there for. Even when Maia isn't part of any business her father has, she knows the man is speaking the truth. If something is to happen, Cade will have a target on her back. "We just want her. You can walk away and act like nothing happened." Clearly, the man isn't beating the bushes anymore and going straight to the point, hinting there's at least one more person in the car.

[socialncrms]

Riley exhaled slowly through his nose, gaze fixed on her as she spoke. That grin of hers—sharp as ever, like she knew she had the upper hand before the game even started. It was infuriating, but he wasn’t about to give her the satisfaction of showing it. Instead, he let her talk, let her try to steer the conversation away from what mattered. That was Apple’s way. Misdirection wrapped in charm, designed to make a man forget why he was here in the first place. His fingers tapped once against the photo before he finally unfolded it, sliding it across the table. A young man, face barely recognizable through the bruising, left crumpled against a rust-streaked shipping container. “That body?” he said, voice steady. “He’s not just some low-level player. That’s the son of a diplomat. And I don’t need to tell you what happens when someone with that kind of bloodline turns up dead in a place like this.” His eyes flicked up, reading her reaction. “You sure it’s been handled? Because something like this, doesn't go away with your run of the mill street justice," he said in his calm, smooth tone. “Steak sounds good,” he said, tone casual, like they weren’t sitting here discussing a dead diplomat’s son. “But I also know dinner with you comes with its own price tag,” he mused with a smirk, eyes sharp despite the easy curve of his lips. Conversations with her, when not about his business almost always felt like they were conversations about her business, just camouflaged in playful chatter.

"Everything is business, and I always stand to win." Apple grinned again as she picked up her own tea, taking a careful sip so as not to burn her mouth. "You really should try the tea...It's from a small family farm I found. The quality is the absolute best I've come across, and it's so vibrant in it's flavor. I know, that's weird to say about green tea, but it's true." With a small shrug of her shoulders, her face settled as he started the next topic of discussion. The real reason he had come back.

Her eyes moved down to the table, like they always did when she was listening intently, barely moving as she took in the details he elected to share. Almost immediately, she knew the one he was talking about, and let out a sigh of relief. "I know exactly the one you're talking about, and who. I'd say forget about it. It's already been dealt with, and not just from that body alone. Have you forgotten that we take care of our own out here?" Playfully, she rolled her eyes before taking another sip of her tea. "You're never going to bring the justice you're after in this case...It's another one you'll have to write off. The police here took too long, and didn't follow the right leads. They screwed themselves over, and are wasting your time by calling you out. Just take this as a vacation, hm? Almost like a trip back home."

She remained entirely calm, collected, and even gave Riley a sympathetic look as she looked up at him. "How about I buy you a steak for their incompetence, hm? Or are you more in the mood for sushi?" For now, she wasn't nervous. Apple was as calm as her demeanor, hoping her words would get him to back off.

[socialncrms]

Dante went still the second her hand pressed against his chest.

He should’ve made a joke. Should’ve smirked, brushed it off, said something stupid about how he wouldn’t mind the mouth-to-mouth if it came from her. But he couldn’t. Not when she was looking at her own hand like it didn’t belong to her, like she was somewhere far away, sinking into whatever bullshit thoughts had convinced her she wasn’t enough.

Dante clenched his jaw, breath coming in tight, measured pulls as he fought against every instinct telling him to pull her closer, to shake her out of whatever downward spiral she was slipping into.

But then she looked up at him, and that smile—that fucking smile—hit him harder than any punch he’d ever taken. Resigned. Dismissive. Like she had already made peace with something she never should’ve had to make peace with in the first place.

His fingers twitched at his sides. Dante shifted forward, closing the space between them, not touching her but close enough that he could, that all it would take was the slightest movement for his fingers to brush her waist. He dipped his head, voice dropping lower, rougher, like he wasn’t sure he wanted her to hear what he was about to say.

“I’m not trying to make you feel better." he began, letting a beat pass. "I’m just telling you the truth. If I thought I had a chance with you, I'd burn down my friendship with your brother," he assed, his voice going soft as he peered down at her.

He still could have stepped back. Still laugh it off. But the way she was looking at him—fuck, he wasn’t sure he wanted to.

ellie can only stew on his words for a moment while she pours batter and tosses pans in the oven, before she's immediately on cleanup, moving around the kitchen once again in a flurry of activity that is definitely well practiced and mechanical. because when she makes a mess, she cleans it up quickly. that's the way it goes. that's the rule. and she won't be fully satisfied to stop until she's done it. a moment passes in silence that isn't uncomfortable as she does, though, and simmers on his statement, but it makes no sense, because the people asking are the ones who're interested, clearly. and the ones who are interested are losers and assholes. ergo....

she can't really draw a conclusion from it.

eyes snap toward him when he starts coughing and she quickly moves across the room to stand in front of him, hand coming up to rub soothing little circles against his chest, trying to ease some of whatever started up his fit to begin with. "slow down or you'll choke, and then i'll have to give you mouth to mouth and i haven't taken a cpr class in like three years, so who knows if i'll even do it right."

a sigh leaves her, and her hand continues to rub those soothing little circles right over his heart, but her mind is far away again, eyes staring at her own hand but far away. "what is that, 10 out of 100? out of 50? look, i get that i'm probably not the kind of girl that your friends would go for. it's fine." finally, she blinks and looks up at him, letting her hand slowly fall away from his heart and then giving him one of those sad, resigned little smiles of hers. "look, dee, i get that you're my brother's best friend, and that it's your job to be, like, german shepard protective mode like hardin is because that's what best friends do, they back up their bros, but you don't have to go so crazy out of your way to try and make me feel better. it's okay. i'll be okay."

[socialncrms]

Cade was already moving before the bartender’s shout finished ringing through the air. The fight had exploded fast, fists flying, bodies shoving, glass shattering somewhere in the chaos. His patience for this kind of shit was running on fumes.

He bulldozed through the crowd, shoving a guy off balance just as he cocked back for another swing. Some of the other bouncers were closing in, locking down the worst of it, but Cade’s focus snapped to the woman pinned near the bar. Dark hair, caught in the crossfire, trying to slip away but getting nowhere.

He didn’t hesitate. In one swift motion, he grabbed her by the waist and hauled her out of the mess, turning his body just in time to shield her from a stray elbow that would’ve cracked her right in the jaw. She tensed in his grip, but he didn’t slow, cutting a path through the chaos like a wrecking ball.

By the time he reached the back corner of the bar, the worst of the fight was getting wrangled, a couple guys already pinned to the floor. Cade let the woman go, stepping back just enough to make sure she was steady. His gaze flicked over her—she didn’t look hurt, just a little wide-eyed.

“Stay put,” he ordered, voice low but firm. He didn’t wait for an answer. Another crash behind him meant the night wasn’t over yet.

Rei simply had the unnatural ability to find trouble. She didn’t feel the shift until it was too late to get herself out of there. Two men had been standing behind her, and she would later assume that it had something to do with a beautiful blonde woman that was paying neither one of them a second of attention. She was in the middle of taking a sip of her drink when the first fist went flying. It was nowhere near her, but she still ducked down just in case the next one was a little less well-coordinated. She ended up slightly pinned up against the bar as the fists went flying. She could hear the bartender yelling for a bouncer. There were more men involved pretty quickly, but she couldn’t quite tell if it was something that was now involving their friends or if these punches had landed on the wrong people. She started to squeeze herself along the side, only really getting jostled around a bit once she got behind one of the original fighters

[socialncrms]

Alan Ritchson | Men’s Health (2024)

[socialncrms]

Matteo huffed a quiet laugh, low in his chest, the corners of his mouth tugging up just slightly. Her answer wasn’t surprising—if anything, it was exactly what he expected from a woman like Carmen. Decisive. Unapologetic. He could respect that. Hell, he envied it a little. "You okay?" he asked, watching her rub her legs. "I can help if you need, I can only imagine how sore you'd be standing in thsoe all night," he added, watching as she discarded her heels with a kind of relief he could practically feel. Matteo didn't want to make things awkward, he still wondered how she truly felt about him. The last thing he wanted to do was to make her feel uncomfortable. His gaze flicked down briefly, catching the way her fingers brushed over the marks the straps had left on her skin. There was something oddly grounding about the sight—this woman, sharp as a blade, still at the mercy of a long night in impossible shoes.

He let his tie hang loose around his neck, shifting his weight, stretching out his legs in front of him. “I don’t think I ever thought about it like that. Liking it or leaving it.” His voice was thoughtful, not necessarily questioning, just... considering. “It’s not that simple for me. Never has been. But I think it's healthy you feel that way about it.”

Matteo exhaled, rolling his jaw as if shaking off a thought before it could dig in too deep. He turned his head slightly to look at her again, noting the amused curve of her lips, the glint in her dark eyes. Like she’d already figured something out about him before he even had the words for it.

“How about you? You ever get tired of it?” he asked, tilting his head slightly. “The game. The constant motion. Or does it still give you the same high it did when you started?” There wasn’t judgment in his voice—just curiosity. Because if Carmen ever did grow tired of the game, he had a feeling she’d be the first one to flip the board and walk away without looking back.

he was right, of course— the majority of the job was selling what you created. she had pride in her work, she knew it was phenomenal, but the fact of the matter was that she had to be good at convincing other people that that was the case. luckily, she was a persuasive woman, a woman with few limits that she wouldn’t break through to get what she wanted.

her hand worked over her calf, rubbing down to her ankle, fiddling with the straps of her heels. easily her aching feet slip out from the cramped hold of the shoes, and she almost bit back a groan of relief. fuck, she didn’t know how she managed it these past few hours. and it seemed that this exhaustion even affected the veteran personality, noting how he loosened his tie, dark eyes lingering on his chiselled face as he leaned his head back into the lush headrest. their eyes met when he glanced back to her, and she’d simply grin a little, knowingly. she did know it, and she wasn’t afraid to remind people about it. but the reminder for manners, for grace, was not lost on her.

his question, though, surprised her. happiness? ‘—well, who else would it be for?’ she asked rather bluntly, though to her, it was obvious. ‘ if i didn’t do it for my own happiness, this would be hell on earth.’ motioned vaguely with ring-adorned fingers to the flashes against the tinted glass. ‘ i’m no masochist. i do what i do because i like it. once i don’t like it, i leave it.’ to her, it was always that simple. dark lips quirk into an amused smile— this seemed to be more for him than for her.

[socialncrms]

Cade didn’t move at first, just let his gaze settle on the guy like he was sizing up a problem that needed solving. The way Maia’s fingers gripped his jacket told him enough—she wasn’t scared, but she wasn’t exactly comfortable either. And that? That didn’t sit right with him.

His stance shifted just slightly, a subtle adjustment, but enough to put himself more in front of her. A quiet, unspoken message.

The man was looking Cade over, probably trying to figure out if he was worth dealing with. Cade didn’t blink. He let the moment stretch, kept his expression flat, unimpressed, his hands in his coat pockets. Then, slow as anything, he pulled his hands from his pockets and rolled his shoulders like he was shaking off a kink in his neck.

“It's chilly. I'm sure we can get you home much quicker than your friend can,” the mysterious man said, voice low and even, but carrying weight. This time as he spoke though, he took a few methodical steps toward them.

Cade held his stare just long enough to make a point, then turned his head slightly, angling toward Maia without taking his eyes off the guy. Cade angled himself between Maia and him, taking a few steps closer. "She says she's good. If we want an Uber, we'll get one," Cade said.

Of course, whoever is inside the car spotted them. And she's sure they had been waiting for them, probably gotten familiar with their route to know when they would walk it. Her fingers don't leave his jacket alone when she spots the door opening. Will someone come out with a gun? Will there be more than one person? She takes a step closer to Cade, purposely standing slightly behind him. Is she nervous? A little bit. But the nervousness disappears when she sees the man coming out, not a gun in hand.

Maia recognizes him. She has seen him a couple times, and has even talked to him, but does she remember his name? "I wouldn't say I know him but..." She doesn't want to lie to Cade. Especially when it's clear the familiar man wants something and shows signs he's familiar with her.

Upon hearing his question, it takes a couple seconds for Maia to compose herself to answer. "As you can see, I have company." She can see the man eyeing Cade from head to toe, and then his gaze returns to her. "So no, I'm good." Even when it's unusual for her to be in such a situation, she still knows what the man wants ( or his boss ). Leverage over her father.

[socialncrms]

Matteo leaned his forearms on the counter, watching as Meera immediately shifted into business mode. Efficient, no-nonsense—he should’ve expected nothing less.

“Not at the restaurant, no. My home, on Patterson. I think you guys should have the address from last time,” he clarified, tapping a slow rhythm against the wood. “I’m expecting around forty, maybe fifty people.” He exhaled through his nose, smirking as he added, “So, y’know, just enough to be a headache.”

As for the theme? That part made him pause, tilting his head slightly. “More of a social. Nothing stiff, no speeches, or corporate buzzwords. Just good food, good drinks, and people enjoying themselves.” He met her gaze then, a knowing glint in his eye. "In fact, I'm glad I caught you where. You should come by, if you’re not working. Eat, have a drink enjoy yourself.” He shrugged, like it was no big deal. “Figure it’s only fair, considering you’ll be the reason the event is catered well.” he offered. Matteo hoped this invite wouldn't make things weird for them. If she didn't want to go, he'd completely forget about the offer. Although, he probably would be too embarrassed to return to the restaurant -- at least when she was working.

Chuckling at his remark about shift change Meera clicked the bottom of the pen ready to take notes. "Shift change is fine if it's the same manager than covering both, it's when one leaves and another arrives that the fun really begins," she grinned.

Listening to his instructions she began to jot details down, "Alright so next weekend, is this event to be held in the restaurant or somewhere else? How many people are you catering for and do you have a theme? Is it a birthday or family get together or work?" Straight into work mode Meera wanted the details and to tie everything down before she even began to think about the more fun aspects of planning an event.

[socialncrms]

[TEXT]: Hmmmm, depends [TEXT[: What can he offer that other guys cant?

@socialncrms gets a starter ♥

[ text ]: Okay, SO I need an honest opinion

[ text ]: and I'll know if you're lying to me

[ text ]: do you think I should agree to go out with Vic? He says it's just dinner - but then he refuses to give me the name of the restaurant?? [ text ]: am I overthinking?

[socialncrms]

Dante forced himself to smirk, finally looking back up at her, just in time to catch the way her eyes flashed with amusement. “Well, maybe the problem isn’t the guys who are asking. Maybe it’s the ones who aren’t.” His voice was smooth, casual, as if he wasn’t already regretting letting those words slip out.

Instead of backtracking, he shoved the spoon into his mouth, letting the rich chocolate distract him, buying himself a moment. He should have left it at that. But then she had to go and mention that she missed sex.

Dante nearly choked. He masked it with a cough, shaking his head as if he wasn’t currently picturing her in that dress, out on some date with some asshole who didn’t deserve to see her in it. He exhaled through his nose, scraping the last bit of batter off the spoon before setting it down with a quiet clink against the counter.

“Yeah, that dress was wasted,” he muttered, maybe more to himself than to her. His gaze flicked over her, quick, careful, controlled, before settling on the pan she was setting out. His shoulders tensed. “And I’m not hooking you up with anyone, so don’t even start.. Honestly? I don't think I know anyone worthy of being with you. You're a fucking 10. I just wish that -- ” Dante trailed off. His voice was gruff, his usual brand of deadpan, but the weight behind it was heavier than he meant for it to be.

He turned, leaning against the counter, arms crossing over his chest. “And for the record, if I’m always here, it’s not because of the brownies,” he said, tilting his head slightly. “Though, they’re a damn good bonus.” he told her. And no, it wasn't to drink with her brother. No, he usually liked it most when Ellie was around.

"oh, don't do that. don't give me the 'you could have anyone you want' line because i know for a fact that is not true." perhaps lingering doubts about herself from fifteen years ago, from her high school days of not being the pretty, popular girl, from never getting asked to dances or out on the weekends, but it's all stuck and ellie still feels like that girl, despite her newfound ability to dress well and her big grown up business ventures. she isn't all a bundle of self-conscious nerves, she has some confidence, enough not to go jumping in bed with every loser who takes her to dinner, at least, but those doubts still live deep in her chest.

unfortunate, really.

"it's not my fault that the only guys asking me out are idiots. you go out there and find someone who isn't a total idiot to ask me out, i'll happily give him a shot, but i can only try with the guys who are actually barking up my proverbial tree." she's finished mixing up batter, and passes over the spoon without much thought for him, moving on to grabbing pans from under the sink. "or at the very least, find someone who isn't a total loser to hook up with me, because i miss sex. i mean, look at this outfit! this dress has 'good in bed' written all over it and i wasted it." accompanying the declaration is a little grunt of frustration of her own.

eyes cut over to look at him, amusement written in every corner of her expression now, all traces of the frustration and stress of the night bled out of her and replaced with the cozy warm feeling of being at home, being in her kitchen and with a good friend. "okay, well lets not be dramatic about it, because you'll absolutely just be over here, anyway, because you're always here anyway, so you don't even have to worry about the travel time. and i think i pay you well enough in baked goods as it is. what more could you possibly want from me?"

[socialncrms]

🔒 Closed starter: @finalgayze ⭐ Featuring: Rei & Cade

The bass thumped through the floor like a steady pulse, rattling Cade’s ribs as he leaned against the bar. The place was packed—too many bodies crammed into too little space, the air thick with sweat, liquor, and the sharp bite of cigarette smoke sneaking in from the alley door some idiot had left cracked open. His eyes flicked across the crowd, cataloging the usual suspects. The weekend warriors already two drinks past their limit, the regulars nursing cheap whiskey, the vultures circling fresh faces with bad intentions.

But there was something that made him uneasy, as if a shift in the mood could happen at any moment. He'd been doing this long enough to anticipate moments like that . Most of the patrons were either stupid, drunk, or both, someone was about to start shit.

[socialncrms]

Matteo exhaled slowly, leaning back against the plush leather seat, his broad, thick shoulders rolling as he loosened his tie. His suit, tailored to perfection, still felt too stiff even after a night under the spotlight. He glanced at Carmen, watching as she settled in, still draped in all the glitz and excess of the evening. She made this look easy—effortless, even—but he knew better.

“Stamina’s all smoke and mirrors. At least in my case,” he murmured, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “You get used to running on fumes when half your job is pretending you’re not exhausted.” His voice was low, rough from hours of talking, smiling, helping to sell an image.

He let his head tip back against the seat, closing his eyes briefly. The hum of the car, the distant shutter clicks of desperate paparazzi—it was all just white noise now. After a beat, he opened one eye, his gaze settling back on her.

“You’re good at this.” A pause. “Really good.” He let the weight of those words settle before adding, “You already knew that, didn’t you?” There was no trace of malice in it, just an acknowledgment of what hopefully they both understood. She knew how to command attention and how to play the game.

His fingers drummed idly against his knee before he glanced toward her again, this time with something quieter in his expression. “How much of that happiness was for them?” A flick of his gaze, meaning the cameras, the crowd, the world outside the car. “And how much was for you?” he asked her. Matteo didn't mean for it to sound so cryptic. He just genuinely wanted to know how she felt, now that the two were somewhat out of the sight of the clicking, flashing cameras.

promoting her directoral debut was something carmen had dreamed of, but the extent of its reach hadn't set in until the flashing lights of the red carpet, the crowds of paparazzi and photographers, shit, even the glambot that always went viral? it was even more than what she had anticipated, and yet, she wasn't close to finished. she had only a taste of it, and now ... now, she knew she had to dig her nails in, make her place.

but she was realistic-- she knew that half of the attention came from the scandal, the controversy that hung on the mega tv personality-- the same man she had draped herself over the entire night. it was similar to acting, to her. turning on her charm, flirting her way to a viral clip on the internet with praise and concern alike. the pr manager wasn't lying when she said that this would be hard for the internet to ignore; she had to pay her back somehow.

but the night was over, and for appearances, she and the matteo vega dodged the flashes of the paparazzi cameras and their probing questions, settling into the dark car awaiting them. lounging in the back, she'd sigh in both delight and exhaustion, dark waves brushed over her shoulder as she leaned back into the comfort of the seat. the dress she wore, one of a dark satin glamorized with body jewelry and fanciful beading, emphasized her curves and was only a tinge uncomfortable as she bent to rub her calf.

'--and to think, we have interviews tomorrow and another premiere wednesday. you've been doing this for ages, too ... you got more stamina than i thought,' she half-teased, humming in her relief at the feeling of her feet resting for once. // for @socialncrms !!

[socialncrms]

Cade felt the tug on his jacket before he saw what she was looking at. Instinct kicked in first—his body tensed, feet planting firm like he was bracing for something. His gaze flicked to the SUV, taking in the tinted windows, the way it just sat there, engine low and steady. It didn’t look out of place—hell, half the cars in this part of town looked like that—but the way Maia reacted? That told him enough.

His eyes cut back to her, sharp, searching. Then came that smile of hers, easy and unbothered, like she hadn’t just stopped short like a deer catching a scent. Cade 'didn’t buy it for a second. Still, he played along.'s attention went from Maia, to the car she seemed worried by. He slowly studied it, trying to see if he recalled seeing it before. It didn't take too long before realizing he'd jotted down the plater before -- multiple times even. He'd seen it around the club, with no real purpose of loitering in the back parking lot. The back door of the SUV opened smoothly, a tall, imposing figure lurched out of the vehicle and faced the two of them. The man looked somewhere between the ages of Maia and Cade, just as physically imposing as him. "You know him?" he asked Maia softly, ignoring her comment about breakfast at this point.

"Can I offer you a ride?" this mysterious man asked, his attention and offer solely being directed to Maia.

His answer doesn't surprise her. The amount of times they have walked together, and gotten to somewhat know each other through those walks, Maia has gotten the vibe he enjoys his alone time. And there's nothing wrong with that. "Why did you become a bouncer?" She inquires further while adjusting her backpack's straps, and once in a while, instead of looking at his handsome facial features, she looks at the streets to see where they're walking, an amused smile tugging onto her lips once hearing his question. "I'm pretty sure those..." Her words are cut off when she spots a car that looks awfully familiar to her and the register number confirms it. A black SVU whose picture she has seen in her dad's file he gave to her. A file that involves vehicles and people she should avoid ( she laughed the file off, but to calm her dad, she still studied it ). Her steps come to a halt, and she reaches for his jacket to stop him. "We..." She finds it hard to move her eyes away from the car, trying to see if there's anyone behind the tinted windows. "Come to think of it, I'm hungry. Are you hungry?" Finally, her attention turns back to Cade, a smile tugging to her lips. Is it too late to pretend she didn't spot anything?

[socialncrms]

Matteo chuckled under his breath, shaking his head as he watched Meera juggle a dozen things at once—menus, napkins, her staff. Always in motion, always on top of everything, even when it was clear not everyone around her was keeping up. It was respectable, a trait he actually envied in her.

“Yeah, I can tell,” he joked in response to her comment about staying busy. It didn’t surprise him in the slightest. Some people worked to get through the day, and then there were people like Meera, who seemed to thrive in the chaos.

Before he could answer her question, she was already redirecting someone else, her voice cutting through the restaurant with that mix of authority and patience. Matteo smirked again, shaking his head as she turned back to him with that small, exasperated eye roll.

“Remind me to never book an event of mine during a shift change. No reason to put even more work on all of you -- or just you, rather." His tone was easy, teasing, but there was an understanding behind it -- he’d been in and worked at places like this before, seen how much of the weight landed on the people like Meera.

Finally, he let his hands slide from his pockets and gestured toward the open book. “Well, I need catering for an event next weekend --something nice, but nothing too fancy. You know me, I’d rather people actually eat the food instead of just staring at it.” he told her, knowing her restaurant was talented producing food that could do both of those things.

Meera's attention focussed more on the man as she recognised his voice. Turning around with a smile she nodded at his request. "Give me just a minute," she replied as she placed the napkins in the correct place and then reached down for the diary.

Laughing at his remark she shrugged, "I like to be busy." Leaning forward her voice quitened as she added, "But sometimes I think that lets others think they can just stand around doing nothing." Standing back up she flicked open the big book and picked up a pen, "Now what date are you looking for and what do you need?" Before he could say anything Meera's head turned and she called over to a younger woman, "No Amy, table 10 needs to be set for 16, not table 5." She looked back at Matteo, rolling her eyes as she did, "We have a birthday party arriving soon and the lunchtime shift left the place in a mess so we are in a rush to set up now."

[socialncrms]

Dante brushed a bit of flour off his sleeve where it had landed. Seeing how she cooked usually was a clear indicator of her feelings, wether it was angry, joyous or playful. "I don't want it to come across as criticism. Just, your type sucks. You could have anyone you want, Ellie. But you keep going after idiots," he muttered, though there was no real bite behind it—just the quiet frustration that had been simmering under his skin for years. He leaned his side against the counter, watching her move through the kitchen with that practiced ease, the way she poured herself into the process like it could somehow smooth over all the rough edges of her night. Maybe it could, maybe that’s why she did it.

Although he might have been frustrated, he didn’t like hearing her talk about giving up.

"You’re not gonna be the old cat lady, Ellie," he said, voice lower now, more serious despite the smirk still playing at his lips. "You care too much. You care too much for people who don’t deserve it." He shook his head, running a hand over his beard, jaw tightening as he tried to shove down the part of himself that wanted to tell her she was looking in the wrong places. That the kind of love she was searching for did exist—she just wasn't seeing what was right in front of her.

Instead, he exhaled a short breath, settling for something easier. "But if you choose to end up with a house full of Earls, I might start charging you for labor when you inevitably call me over to fix everything they break," he teased, her a look, before nodding toward the mixing bowl in front of her. "You need me to do anything, or am I just here for moral support and first dibs?" Dante added.

movements so mechanical, so swift and fluid that ellie could do them in her sleep, guide her through as she starts to bake. the only thing in this world that truly calms any raw nerves, truly soothes any aches, the art and science of it all enough to keep her mind occupied with something other than her tragic and completely terrible love life. enough practiced ease that she's even able to look up at dante while she does it, eye him with suspicion and mild annoyance, even as the smile remains frozen in place on her face, enough to show off those round apples of her cheeks.

"listen, you try dating in your 30s as me for a day and tell me it's easy to find a guy who wants more than just a quick fuck after dinner, and then you can bash my so called terrible choices."

it's hard, because ellie is a hopeless romantic at heart. waiting desperately for someone to be prince charming, to sweep her off her feet and carry her away, to tell her that she's the princess in their story and that they truly do love and treasure her, but that's simply not the world she's living in. it's all duds, or guys who aren't interested in commitment, or the ones who thing she's not wife material because she runs her own business, or whatever the hell else. she had some loser boyfriends in high school and college, and the pattern simply seems to repeat, over and over, until she wants to scream.

"no, he definitely isn't worth the trouble of bailing anyone out of jail for him. just an asshole who's mad i didn't want to immediately jump into bed with him. you know, a loser. my type, apparently." eyes roll as she flicks a little bit of flour at dante, grin playful now as the ease and comfort of her own home, mixed with that odd ease and comfort that only dante seems to be able to provide her, finally start to fill her and relax the weary muscles in her body. "i think it might just be time that i give up on love and admit defeat. i'll be the old lady that everyone calls grandma even though i'm not one, and bakes for all the neighborhood kids and has twenty cats all named earl or something."