, with you tonight

[Deleted]

JULY 4TH, 2018 Glancing at his phone for what must have been the millionth time that evening, Oscar was forced to accept that Charlotte would be unlikely to make the trip here before midnight. The party had been in full flow for hours now, and he wondered if she was avoiding it on purpose - after all, she had desperately resisted his suggestion of their attendance, and it had taken weeks of begging to get her to agree at all. Busy with prior plans, she had promised to make the trip out to the Hamptons and meet them as soon as she could, but Oscar was starting to regret his tagging along with Caesar. Though it was Daisy's party, as soon as they arrived he had been abandoned by the man, who had to busy himself with preparations and greetings, quickly disappearing into the crowd. Oscar looked out at that crowd now, at all the beautiful faces, his brunette girlfriend conspicuously absent in this sea of blondes. Though he wasn't shy by nature, the awkwardness of his being at a family event without his connection to the family being present was enough for him to feel out of place. Downing what was probably one too many beers, he got up to fetch himself another, manoeuvring through the crowd to make way to the bar. Typically, it was an excessive offering, with a bartender making cocktails and an array of beers and wines so extensive it would rival most off licenses. Stood under a string of tasteful fairy lights, he picked up yet another craft beer, taking a long sip and ignoring the sense of drunkenness that was slowly creeping up on him. Looking around again, he spotted Vegas and smiled, though she was too deep in conversation for him to feel comfortable interrupting. One brunette. Quickly his eyes found another, and this time his face broke out into an even wider grin as he headed over, easily slipping one hand around Rosie's eyes. "Guess who."

[rosie de la cruz]

JULY 4TH, 2018 Though she'd been here for hours now, tucked into Tate's side with idle chit-chat on her tongue, Rosie still didn't feel entirely at ease. She never could, even if it was all but routine by now. Drinks and dancing when said drinks hit, gossip and competition under everyone's breath. Though she could circumnavigate the conversations at this point her favored spot tended to be on the outskirts of everything, observing the buzz but actively not participating. It was enough for her to listen to, amused at how different this would have been to a celebration back in Raleigh. Almond eyes flicker to the lights above her head, swirling the beer in her hand absentmindedly as she wondered when the fireworks would start going off. There had to be a display - Daisy wouldn't have it any other way. "Guess who." Rosie's vision goes dark and for a moment she thinks it's Tate, back from placating his sister. But the hint of an accent betrays him, pulling the hand from her eyes with a grin. "I didn't know you were here, " she responds, relief peppered into her tone. Though Rosie rarely got to see him, the offhand friendship she'd formed with Oscar had become a comfort in the middle of the chaos, immediately put at ease at the sight of him. "Your hair's so much longer! Where's Charlotte? I don't think I've seen her all night."

[Deleted]

Distantly, over the music, the sound of waves crashing onto the beach was just about decipherable. This was just one of many displays of wealth he had come to expect from his girlfriend's extended family, the beach house more like a mansion than the shack he'd been picturing. Guests were expensively dressed and the booze was expensive too, which was one small blessing - hopefully the hangover wouldn't be as vicious as it was when he was forcing back harsh shots of cheap spirits back home. Wearing Tate's suit and being just a little too tall for it, he felt like he looked almost as much of an imposter as he felt. Whilst his family were far from broke, this was a different world and he silently willed Charlotte to arrive and come to his rescue. Though this was a decent stand in. Watching Rosie's full lips pull into a smile, he's relieved to see that she's relieved. Sometimes he wondered if their friendship was inappropriate, if maybe he was imposing himself on her just because they both happened to be broke... but that smile told him otherwise, and he returned it easily. "I've been lurking in my room, drinking beer and questioning my choices in life." Immediately he feels more at ease, his whole body relaxing now that he had someone to talk to. "So's yours! She got tied up, she's supposed to be here now but she's running late." He swipes a glass of champagne from a tray carried by a passing waitress, forcing it into Rosie's hand. "Maybe she was embarrassed to be seen with a Brit, given the holiday. Here, drink up, I'm already pretty pissed. Cheers!" He said, clinking his glass against hers.

[rosie de la cruz]

At least this home felt familiar to her, having spent much of her summer up here with Tate and his family. Though decorated to the nines for the occasion she could still spy the boardwalk in the distance, a hidden comfort she'd seek out in the early morning when everyone slept in. For a moment she ached to be out there now, shifting in the Reformation dress she'd stolen from her roommate's closet a few weeks ago. The peace and quiet had given way to a five piece band and endless rounds of drinks, beer still cold on her lips as she polished it off and set it down. Perennially out of her element. But at the very least she wasn't alone. Though they seemed to operate on enemy territories, at least Oscar understood her struggles in a way that no one else here ever could. Tate could try his best to understand, to respect certain limits, but in the end this place, this life, was his. She simply existed in it. "I'm contemplating everyone else's life choices," she murmured, eyeing shoes that cost a fortune being tossed haphazardly into the sand. It all seemed so frivolous here, so over the top - Rosie barely thought twice before palming the champagne he gave her and tossing it back in one go. "Well, Aisha got upset about something and dragged Tate away, so looks like we're both solo for now." A waiter offers her another glass within moments, the hint of a smile showing before she widened her eyes at Oscar upon his disappearance. "Pardon my French, but this is all still fucking nuts."

[Deleted]

Glancing back at the bartender, Oscar felt even she had more business being here than he did. At least she was performing a service, the shaker rattling as she shook it above her shoulder. Charlotte rejected this world as much as she could, and he took comfort in that, in knowing that she felt out of place too, though nowhere near as much as he did. When his parents had attended the McCarthy Christmas party last year they had clearly been uncomfortable too, obviously having thought their son was exaggerating when he regaled them with tales of Manhattanite opulence. Since then they'd had conflicting feelings about his relationship more generally, loving Charlotte as a person but not loving the idea of their son being mixed up in this world where he did not belong. It had changed him, made him more aware of what he didn't have instead of grateful for what he did. He tried to fight this impulse, but it was hard to when surrounded by beautiful people in a beautiful mansion on a beautiful night like this. "You know what she dragged him away for," Oscar said, waggling his eyebrows. He felt so much better in a bubble with Rosie, instantly he could feel himself becoming more normal. Finishing his beer, he swaps it for a glass of champagne as it's offered. "Oh, is it? I hadn't noticed," he said, affecting an accent worthy of Downton Abbey and sticking his pinky finger out as he took a sip of the golden liquid, "I thought it was all rather quaint. Are you suggesting that several thousands of dollars is too much to spend on a party? Are you some sort of peasant?" He can't help the grin that breaks out across his face. "Agreed. It's fucking mental."

[rosie de la cruz]

At first glance, Rosie looked like she fit in. Physically, in the most shallow of ways, she had curves in the right places and that soft summer tan. Could smile at the right time, was barely sporting any make-up, wore white and kept lithe on her feet. But dig any deeper and they could say she was over her head, probably gossiping that Tate kept her as a pretty arm piece until his perfect match came along. It had always been a battle, to wonder if she was good enough. He made her feel one way but this crowd in general could force her emotions entirely, that block in the back of her throat begging her not to say the wrong thing. Blow her cover - because she didn't belong, right? The champagne worked to quell those nerves, trying not to convince herself it would always be like this. Rosie narrows her eyes at his sly remark, shoving his shoulder back and watching the champagne slosh onto his sleeve. "Stop being gross while you're wearing my boyfriend's suit," she shot back, eyeing his bare ankles she assumed showed due to the height difference. God, it felt good to joke like this though, the pressure all but relieved from her chest as she bit back a laugh at his suddenly posh accent. "Oh, terribly sorry, sir. How dare I offend this completely basic and not at all pretentious event that barely cost a dime," she mimics in a southern affect, breaking into a giggle before she covered her mouth. "If this is just Fourth of July, I can't imagine their Christmas. Did you go last year? I need all the gossip."

[Deleted]

Oscar laughs as he's shoved, deservedly so. "You make a good point," he said, glancing down at the suit, noticing how it finished a centimetre too early on his wrist and feeling like an overgrown kid. Tate had thought nothing of lending him it, directing him to his walk-in closet and telling him to grab whatever he wanted. It was a closet he shared with Aisha, though of course she took up three quarters of it-- dresses were everywhere, crammed in with more shoes than he'd ever seen in his life. He'd grabbed the most simple thing he could find, a dark navy suit that didn't look too formal, particularly worn without a tie. He'd felt fine about it until Tate emerged, wearing a silk shirt tucked into fitted pants and somehow managing to make it look like just the right thing. Even with a lifetime of practice, he knew he'd never pass for someone born into this lifestyle. It must be genetic. Downing his champagne, the room started to blur ever so slightly, and he felt himself ease in to the party atmosphere at last. He grins as she replies in a heavy accent, unable to disguise the little thrill he gets at hearing her southern twang so prominently. Before all this he would have found Rosie completely intimidating, unsure of what they'd have in common and thrown by her bucketloads of sexual charisma. But now she was his one ally in this insane world, and he was so grateful to have her. "I did. My parents did too, and my sisters were all invited... Simone came." He picks up another two glasses of champagne for them. "Christ, I don't even know how to describe it. Made this look like a college party. The dresscode was black tie, so everyone was like, in full floor length gowns... Daisy and Caesar had a big argument, and there were loads of recognisable faces there, like that guy from that band? Y'know, Joe something? Loads of people from Caear's work, and the Real Housewives from Daisy's, honestly it was insane. Good fun though. I wish I'd asked for pictures, but I didn't want to be that guy."

[rosie de la cruz]

"I thought so...though the stripes also give it away," Rosie murmurs, flipping one of the cuffs to reveal a familiar pattern that permeated much of what she’d seen Tate wear. Either some brand or bespoke she wasn’t sure, but it warmed her all the same that he rarely thought twice about slipping one over her shoulder, or in this case, lending one to someone close to the family. If there was one thing that seemed to separate Tate from the crowd it was his blind belief that everyone should be treated equally, no matter their social class or family pedigree. It had been a surprising breath of fresh air when that dawned on her. Absentmindedly she searches the crowd for him, wondering if he’d returned to the house until she snapped back to Oscar regaling stories about their infamous holiday gathering. "McCarthy, Aisha’s I think boyfriend. Kind of weird that he has the same last name as her dad, right?" Rosie fills in, words fizzy off her tongue as the drinks started to settle. If she was being honest, between that and Oscar’s presence, this was all seeming a bit more bearable. "Maybe next time I’ll wait to break up with Tate until after the big event so I can shamelessly ask for all the photos for us. Bat my eyes enough and they have a hard time saying no."

[Deleted]

Watching Rosie's face as she turns the cuff over in her slender fingers, it's easy to see her mind wander to her boyfriend. It made the corner of Oscar's mouth twitch into a little smile, as he wondered if Lottie ever thought about him and looked as sweet at Rosie did now. Probably not. Resisting the desire to check his phone, he straightened his sleeves out, hoping the shortness looked intentional. "Here, it smells like him too," he said, presenting his arm for her to smell, the faint hint of Tate's cologne clinging to the fabric. "You look lovely, by the way. As always. Did you borrow something?" "Yeah, that's it!" Oscar says, snapping his fingers in recognition as she finishes off the name. "It wouldn't surprise me if they encouraged family members to marry in this family. Very Malfoy... and they're all blonde too! Maybe JK Rowling has been to one of those parties." It was an unfair comparison really, as with the exception of Aisha, the McCarthy-LeMeir-Van Burens tended to be warm hosts. It was not the hosts who were glancing over at Oscar and Rosie with suspicious whispers, subtly surveying their outfits and body language, but their guests, many of whom seemed to disapprove. He laughs it off. "Do it! Or I can, Lottie hates this stuff anyway, I'd be forgiven. Have you been here before, by the way? I assumed they'd have a place here, but even so, it's insane."

[rosie de la cruz]

"Funny how you can miss someone when they’re probably 30 feet away," she responds, the familiar scent drifting from the sleeve he pressed close to her and all but electrifying her senses. She half expects Tate’s hand to tug at her waist or his lips to smack against her cheek, the feeling only disappating once Oscar pulls away and her features drift to a frown. Suddenly lost in the silence, Rosie steals a look at her phone. "They’re both lucky it’s not New Year’s Eve, or we’d be kissing each other at midnight." Her gaze drifts down to her dress, warming to the compliments that always felt so genuine with him. Something that seemed to lack here, if it existed at all. "My roommate, yeah. She has a handle on these a bit more than I do...though her feet are definitely bigger," she pointedly wiggles the sandal on her foot, feeling it slide off and on her heel. "She’s blonde too, she could join the family. Though I really hate how this plays in to your whole incest theory." Hazy eyes catch his then roll, more champagne down her throat, content with the settling buzz in her mind and the languid way her words were now forming. Judgment be damned. "We’ve been here a lot this summer...usually it looks less lavish than this. I mean, still a mansion, but it can kind of look like a home if you squint really hard. I sit out on that dock a lot, it’s really peaceful."

[Deleted]

At her comment Oscar looks over his shoulder to see if Tate's around, hoping he doesn't see them and think the worst. He did wonder how their partners felt about their friendship, which was mostly off the radar but became more visible at events like this. It helped that Charlotte wasn't actually there. "Hey, the odds of Charlotte showing up at New Years are even slimmer than they are now, it could still happen," he said with another smile, really hoping no one was listening in now. Swirling the champagne in his glass, he watched the reflection of the fairy lights distort in the twisting liquid. The mix of beer and wine was starting to go to his head, and he knew a couple more glasses would tip him over the edge.  Not that it'd stop him. He watches as she wiggles her too-big shoe, "next time I need to find someone lankier to borrow from, and you need to find someone as petite as you. A child, maybe?" The crowd starts to huddle together, with the promise of fireworks getting ever more pressing. "Listen, rich weird families are into incest. That's literally just history, look it up." He glances over, wondering if they should go and join the crowd but deciding he prefers the distance. If Charlotte missed the fireworks that was really going to be a cut off point, though he wasn't sure he really had a leg to stand on when it came to being mad at her over it. He looks out to the dock, imagining a summer spent here instead of waiting for flights at Heathrow and JFK. "I get what you mean. It's more quaint, in a way."

[rosie de la cruz]

In all honesty, Rosie had never brought up her relationship with Oscar to Tate. Not that there were muddy details, or a weapon she was hiding to incite jealousy...it just never phased her that she would have to. If anything it should be a relief that he was here, someone else she felt close enough to in this suddenly raucous crowd. "I'll probably be velcro'd to Tate's side, but hey, seems like anything can happen at that party." It's flirty but surface level, hinged on the giddiness of getting drunk in good company. Maybe not her first choice, but the best second she could have asked for. "Never underestimate a good child's shoe, beanstalk." She kicks hers off for good measure, the contrast in their height even more apparent once her toes hit the ground. "I'd rather not...don't forget your girlfriend is also rich." It takes Rosie a few moments to realize that Charlotte hasn't appeared, scanning the crowd as they pushed forward to the edge of the bank, fireworks all but imminent. Tate hadn't either for that matter, the taste sour in the back of her throat as she eventually took a seat at an abandoned table. Motioning for Oscar to join her she grabs another round, unable to care how bad it would hurt tomorrow morning as her eyes find his. "She's not coming, is she?" Not that it didn't hurt right now anyway.

[Deleted]

The dynamic between the two was so wholly platonic, it never occurred to Oscar that it was something he had to flag to his girlfriend. After all, did Charlotte tell him every time she sat next to a guy in a lecture? If she had, it would freak him out that she said it, since there'd obviously be more to it... so somehow, Oscar had wound up keeping his friendship with Rosie unintentionally secret, creating a weird situation where talking about it felt wrong, even though keeping it secret was probably worse. "Maybe you'll go get a drink and I'll be forced to kiss Tate. Or maybe Caesar, if Vegas heads off early," he said, checking to see if the brunette was still around. "Besides, velcro's easily pulled apart," he adds, addled by booze and unable to help himself. As soon as her shoes are off the height difference goes from significant to comical. Gently, Oscar rests his elbow on her head, taking a sip of his drink as if she were a side table. He raises his hand in mock surrender. "You make a good point! Still, Tate is taken... by Aisha. So Lottie is stuck with me." He follows her to the table, slumping down into the chair, resting his head in his palm. Lazily taking a sip, he pulls his eyes from the crowd to her. "I don't know what to do with her. She acts like she comes from an abusive home, and she doesn't get why this," he gestures at all the splendour in front of them, "would intimidate me. I don't think she'll ever get it."

[rosie de la cruz]

"What if Caesar left early, would you kiss Vegas?" The situation was getting entirely out of hand but Rosie could suddenly care less, all but envisioning this chaotic carousel of families caught in one space, the clock striking zero, missed matches causing a scene straight out of some fabricated movie. An exaggerated reality compare to what lay before her, but something that had her laughing under her breath nonetheless, eventually rolling her eyes at his lofted response. "Fuck, Marry, Kill: Charlotte, Aisha, Me." A competition or drunken banter, she couldn't discern. Rosie has little time to contemplate, suddenly stuck under his arm and calculating enough situations to know that if she moved, champagne would end up in her hair. "Glad I could be of service," she grumbles when he releases her, waving off his rationale with a flicker of her fingers once they both settled across from one another. Rosie shifts one leg under the other, gaze dropping to the smooth white marble under her elbows as she cradles her cheek in her palm, all but mimicking his posture as the mood shifts entirely. It's honest and she knows the feeling, gathering the words to say as much as the first fireworks emerge from the darkness. "This may sound harsh, but I don't know how she could unless their family lost everything. Not that I wish that on them, and it's a privilege to even be here...but in the end we'll always be additions, not members, even if they believe otherwise. Does that make sense? "

[Deleted]

Scanning the crowd, Oscar's eyes fall on Vegas. She looked so similar to Charlotte, and so unbelievably beautiful for a woman of her age... for a woman of any age. "Fuck yes," he said in answer to Rosie's question, drunkenness erasing any pretend attempts at hesitation. Her next question actually does give him pause, and he furrows his brow as he turns to look at her. She really was a beauty, her lips vividly red against her tanned skin, the dress perfectly fitting her tiny form. "Rosie de la Cruz, are you trying to get me in trouble?" he asks, easing back in the chair and mulling over his response. "Obviously kill Aisha. I'm gonna have to marry Lottie, since one day I definitely will." He leans back, slumping a little, suddenly feeling very far away from the hubbub of the crowd. "Which means I'd have to fuck you. Sorry baby, you asked the question. Ok, your turn. Me, Tate, Joe."  The mood shifts, as it's want to do when they talked. They oscillated wildly between sincerity and playfulness, mainly driven by him. His discomfort caused him to make jokes with Rosie, whose easy company soon made him feel all the more comfortable - then, as soon as he felt better, he'd hit her with the truth of his initial discomfort. As she spoke, he nodded slowly, acknowledging that she'd gotten it right. "I think because she's not a McCarthy, she doesn't really feel tied to it... but she is, of course she fucking is," he said, swearing more freely as the drink flowed. "God Rosie, do you think we've got irreconcilable differences? Be honest, I trust you."