, with you tonight

[rosie de la cruz]

Rosie wasn't shocked at his answer, even nodding along at how easy it was to find Vegas in the crowd. Not just for her striking difference in hair color, but the way her quiet confidence dulled everyone else around her. It wasn't too hard to see where Charlotte got it from, or how Oscar was so infatuated with her - familial difficulties or not. It's fun to catch him off-guard in the next moment though, quirking her brow and taking a languid sip of her drink in response. "Secret's safe with me," she goaded as he mulled over his decision, not entirely surprised with the outcome and rattling hers back quickly without a second thought. "Kill Joe - there's only room for one set of McCarthy's - Marry Tate, Fuck You. Cheers." She deftly knocks her glass against his on the table, polishing it off with ease. It made conversations like this easier anyway - ones where you couldn't mince words as much, or dance around issues. Idle nerves eventually fell away to full blown honesty, the only two people in this place that could talk about these situations because to anyone else here, it wasn't anything they had to deal with. Rosie's eyes trail the freckles on his jawline, the edge of his lips as he speaks, eventually meeting an ochre gaze that had lost its convivial spark. "It seems like she doesn't want to be, but if her way of doing so is not showing up to these events, when you make that effort...I think it ends up hurting you more than helping her...not that being abandoned in any sense is fun." She shifts in her chair uneasily, pulling at her dress with a sigh. "I don't know...if I say yes, I'm afraid I'd have to say the same for Tate and I and I don't want to do that. But sometimes it's really hard to not be able to relate about problems. "

[Deleted]

Oscar watches as Caesar slips an arm around Vegas' waist, the two of them huddling close to watch the fireworks as some poor underling went to set them up. Though he was much too afraid to admit it to the woman herself, they really did remind him of himself and Lottie. Her seriousness was balanced out by his lack of it, and her even keel kept him from going too off the rails. Leaning forward, he props both elbows on the table, hunching his shoulders over to turn the conversation conspiratorial as she replies. Laughing, he clinks his glass with hers, finishing it off in time with her. "I'll drink to that." As the booze began to take hold, he could feel himself get more maudlin. Pulling his phone out of his pocket, he opened up his chat with Lottie, scrolling through his numerous begging messages for her to hurry up. He shoved it onto the table. "I dunno. She really hates this stuff, aren't I being a dick'ed to go? I'm only invited as her boyfriend, she thinks it's weird that I come." He sighs, running a hand over his face. "Ugh, I just want her to live a little!" He looks across at her, offering her a sadder smile than the grins that came before it. "You and Tate are rock solid. I'm sorry, I shouldn't be laying this on you, particularly not at a party."

[rosie de la cruz]

With the crowd relocated and the band packing up for the night, the quiet hum that settled in felt more familiar to Rosie than anything had all evening. It was comforting, even, shifting back to analyze the words of her friend instead of being in the middle of the social huddle. As conditioned as she could get, this would always be her element. Rosie mirrors his movements in response to his frustration, phone clattering to the table with her own unanswered messages on display. As annoyed as she was, at least Tate was here somewhere. " Family’s important to you, whether it be getting to know hers or being with yours, right? If these are your chances to get to know them, it’s kind of a damned if you do, damned if you don’t situation. " It’s bleak but it’s honest, offering a half earnest smile as she shifts her hair over shoulder, looking away. "We’re happy, but not perfect. And what other time do we have to bitch anyway? I see you like, once or twice a year. May as well pack it in while we can."

[Deleted]

Now that the party had died down, the near-distant sound of the waves crashing against the sound was just about audible. Soothed by the noise and her easy company, Oscar settled into a comfortable drunkenness, the type that made conversation flow easily. As she reassures him that he's not a total psychopath to want to come along to these events, he can't help but feel a rush of gratitude towards her. "You get it," he says finally, looking at her from across the table. He watches as she shifts her long, glossy hair over a caramel toned shoulder. As platonic as they absolutely were, there were times he couldn't help but notice how pretty she was-- more as an artist than anything else. The set of her features, her petite frame... she had a look that made him want to draw her. "I know. What about if I end up back in New York, will you visit? Pretend you're meeting up with an old pal, hope no one spots us?"

[rosie de la cruz]

She finally spots her boyfriend from a distance, Aisha gesturing wildly in the midst of whatever conversation they were having. Rosie couldn’t tell if she was excited or upset at first, eventually assuming the latter once a slender hand points to Caesar before crossing tightly across her chest." Something tells me I don’t want to get in the middle of that, " Rosie eventually murmurs, tipping her glass toward the ensuing scene. One moment of ill-timed eye contact and for all she knew she’d be the next target. Not that she thought the worst of Aisha. She just knew how much her brother meant to her, and sharing attention never seemed to be her forte. Turning back to Oscar, Rosie scrunches up her nose, catching an offhand gaze. "What?" she asks, waving her hand in his face as if he’d been stunned. She knew that look well enough, comfortable to admit they were both attractive but nothing further would ever become of it. Just this outsiders bond, laughing at his sly projections of future visits. " Like a secret rendezvous? I’d happily visit - though I also don’t think us being friends is illegal, for the record. We may be family-ish in the long run! "

[Deleted]

Watching as Aisha ranted and raved to a seemingly exhausted Tate, he briefly wondered what it was she could be upset about. Caesar refusing to buy her a new car, or maybe not dumping Vegas when she asked him to? "I say you should intervene," Oscar says, trying to seem serious. "What?" The question catches him off guard, and he raises his eyebrows. Opening his mouth to explain himself, he's cut off by the familiar sound of a firework whistling into the air, exploding into bursts of crimson light. Oscar turns to watch the display for a few seconds, as more rockets shoot up in the familiar silver, red and blue that was so iconic to the holiday. By the time it quietened down a little, he turned back to her and shrugged. "Nothing, I was just looking at you. Want me to stop?" He said it as a challenge, which it was. They both knew well enough what the boundaries were, mainly because they had no huge desire to cross them. "Well yeah, this is pretty obvious isn't it?" He said, watching as Tate glanced over his shoulder in their direction. "Oh god, true. But yeah, in the short term, it's probably just one more thing for Charlotte to be pissed over."

[rosie de la cruz]

"And get read the riot act for my imperfect pedicure and being kinda tipsy? No thanks. " Her whole body’s warm at this point, attention drifting in delay to the rockets that blister the sky in color. Hazy at the edges, symbolic in nature - she’s hypnotized, lost in thought at the silliness of celebrating freedom with light shows. Turning to Oscar, she wondered if he viewed it any differently. Her gaze doesn’t falter when he eventually glances back, shrugging in apparent indifference."Do you want to?" A challenge in its own right. Though she thinks it’s the farthest they’ve ever walked from their typically familial vibe it’s almost done in jest, knowing that they’d let it lie by the end of the night. Tempted to flip Tate off when he looks over, Rosie cradles her head in her palm and effectively blocks him out instead. " Well, she’s not here so she can’t really be mad, can she? "

[Deleted]

Due to the party having essentially moved away from them, an unfortunate punishment for their reclusiveness was the now increased distance between them and the bar. "You make a good point. I'm not sure it's fair for me to ask you to get yourself murdered, just for my personal entertainment." For a few moments they watch the fireworks in silence. The display gets increasingly ostentatious as time goes on, with a final blitz of lights that could rival any Disneyland parade. Oscar looks at them and looks over at Rosie, laughing a little as she watches them, transfixed. "Pretty, right?" He laughs, shaking his head at her question. "No, I don't. You must get so bored of people staring at you, but I've gotta tell you, it doesn't get boring to stare." Hearing himself, he imagined Charlotte overhearing the conversation and the silent treatment it would earn him. Probably time to reign it in, even if his intentions were pure. "You underestimate her ability to be mad at me for any reason, at any time," he said, though it was unfair. "I need to stop bitching, I'm a lucky guy."

[rosie de la cruz]

Pretty, right? Rosie resists the urge to comment how it's just another line item on an ever-growing tab they wouldn't keep track of, knowing how ungrateful it would make her sound. She wasn't, really - it was just hard to get a grasp on how this all felt sometimes. Alluring, exciting, terrifying...often even lonely, noticing the space between the pair situated so far away from the crowd. Outsiders by definition and by distance, distracted by flirtatious banter that would slowly run its course. Rosie feels it dissipate now, shoulders sloping down her back as the night air chilled before them. "I don't notice much anymore, honestly. That, and if you're told you're pretty enough times it's all people really think you are." She finds that unfair and its heard in the clipped tone of her voice, sliding her phone between her palms. "For the record, though...I think you're very pretty." It bursts whatever bubble they'd been building, cheekily sticking out her tongue on the peal of a laugh. At least she knew his commentary was genuine - something she'd appreciated about Oscar the few times they'd been around each other now. Though goofy by nature and socially adept, he'd always come across as honest. It's what she sees in him now, retracting statements that Rosie had heard to be true about the mysteriously absent family member. "Could be that McCarthy gene, you can always blame Caesar. I'm sure she does." A lone waiter floats past them and she flags him down desperately, ordering another round of whatever was still at the bar. What a relief. "We're both lucky. The un-rich kids caught up in a very rich world. Thank god for good booze, right?"

[Deleted]

What was even more disturbing to Oscar than the excessive displays of wealth was how comfortable he was becoming with them. His parents had commented on how New York had changed him, when at Christmas he complained about the fact their tree wasn't fifteen feet tall. It had been normalised, even though Lottie wasn't into it he could see that she too was not in awe of it the way he used to be. Here with Rosie he could feel himself coming to his senses, looking at this party and seeing it for what it was: a very aesthetically pleasing waste of money. He tilted his head as she spoke, trying to imagine what that would be like. Resisting the temptation to tease her for the woes of being just too beautiful, he tries to listen properly, picturing what that would be like. "Yeah, I bet a lot of people don't have any idea how smart and funny you are," he agreed, having heard people speak about her before. It was seldom her brains they focused on. He laughs as she returns the compliment, shaking his head. "Handsome, Rosie! Ruggedly handsome," he insists, though he'd been called pretty his whole life and it had never done him any harm. He nods, smiling again. "She's more her father's daughter than she knows. How about you, what genes would you want your kids to pick up from Tate? They're bound to be more like that," he nods at the crowd, "than like us."

[rosie de la cruz]

She shouldn't complain. It was one of the first things Rosie seemed to remember, something so ingrained in her because at the end of the day, she was lucky. Lucky to be here, to be as beautiful as she was, to even have the chance to go somewhere as prestigious as Cornell. It wasn't in her heart to combat people with the truth, or what she deep down honestly thought. That she was terrified of what she was going to do once school came calling to collect her debt, how she hated how far her beauty could get her, how this could all be taken from her in a matter of moments. It's why she came across as quiet - she often had to calculate what to do next to not come off like a brat. Not that people couldn't get away with that. Rosie eyes Aisha again, eventually pulling her knees to her chest and smoothing her dress in its wake. There'd have been very different reactions had she been the one stomping her feet. Instead she's here, swathed in alcoholic warmth, content with Oscar at her side. "It's silly, I know..." she comments back, again retracting to brushing it all off. Light eyes come to find his, noting the slight glass tint hers probably mimicked before sloping down to this lips when they turned up to a smile. Hers quickly follows suite. "Sorry, sorry, devastatingly handsome. Better?" she adjusts, eyes rolling to the sky and the smoke still lingering in the air. His next question throws her, lost in thought for a moment before she answers in an even tone. "How much he cares for his family, his kindness, how he treats everyone. He's like them, and at times I lose him to that...but I think there'd be a good balance. Or I hope, anyway." Just thinking about it elicits another smile, even though talking about children at their age still seemed like a far off dream. "What about yours with Charlotte?"

[Deleted]

Oscar had known his fair share of beautiful girls over his lifetime, and it surprised him how down to earth and interesting Rosie and Charlotte had managed to be. In his experience, girls - and boys, for that matter - who were born into those kind of good looks seemed to skate by in life, and so frequently didn't even bother to muster up much of a personality... maybe that was just a couple rogue girls he knew in school. His eyes followed Rosie's to Aisha. Maybe it wasn't just those rogue classmates after all. She's still talking animatedly to her younger brother, despite his increasingly obvious disinterest. Tate actually keeps glancing over in their direction, presumably to check that Rosie is okay - or maybe to see if there's anything he should be worried about. Smiling at him, Oscar looks back at Rosie, wondering if she's noticed. "It's not silly. Being undermined for something as stupid as how you look isn't silly... imagine if someone had the opposite problem, and they were so ugly that no one wanted to talk to them. That'd be a travesty, right? I think people just wanting to talk to you because you're hot isn't all that much better." Drunk, he believes this to be a very profound observation, though it's not one that would stand up to much scrutiny. "Much better, cheers." He listens to her as she rattles off Tate's strengths, feeling warmer to him as she went through them. Obviously, these were the things that kept her interested in him. "That's sweet, those are all good traits... I'd want my kids to inherit her wealth." He finishes off his champagne, before sighing. "Seriously? Her smarts, her kindness. Her lack of interest in all this shit, I care about it more than she does."

[rosie de la cruz]

Listening to Oscar's theories unravel, Rosie tries to remember exactly when they'd found such common ground. Their friendship had been seamless enough - him commenting on her wide-eyed look the first time she'd come to an all family event with Tate, overwhelmed a bit of an understatement as she'd hovered on the edge of the room when she wasn't with her boyfriend. It had been a look he knew well, and by the end of the night she'd been charmed by his accent and running commentary of all the attendees, stifling a laugh every now and again when they both stared at the subject of his latest gossip bit. She hadn't felt the immediate judgment when she mentioned school, or where she was from, or her family. Not that Tate had ever judged her...but it always felt easier to commiserate with someone that understood. Much like the pair now, a year in advance, silly and drunk and still on the edges. Her gaze does eventually catch Tate's, offering him a lazy thumbs up that all was well away from Aisha's drama. To be honest, she didn't really want to get up, nor put her shoes back on. "It's not, because there's an immediate assumption that girls that are hot just put out. We can't even innocently flirt, most guys just think we want to sleep with them." Rosie kind of contradicts herself but leaves it be, not entirely focused on making sense at this point. It just felt nice to talk, shoving him gently when he mentions Charlotte's wealth. Then the traits he honestly did admire, nodding in agreement. "We care because it's different. Plus, it'll be a nice balance. She can be all about their good education, you can be all about buying Maseratis. That's how it works, right?"