Post by thompson weathers on Dec 25, 2023 8:14:57 GMT
 | AISHA VAN BUREN ⇢ FREDDIE BEAUMONT 4:42am local time 1:42am local time It’s nearing 2am and though he’s not asleep, Thompson is lying in darkness when a shrill ringtone cuts through the room. The girl he’d picked up at the hotel bar groans in semi-sleep but he ignores this, reaching over her, practically smothering her, as he goes to the source of the ringing, a phone that is definitely not his and is on the other side of the bed. As soon as he picks it up, a picture of a pouting, familiar blonde is looking at him, the name AISHA VAN BUREN spelled out as it continues to ring. Ah, Christmas come late. He taps his thumb decisively on the glass as he settles back on the bed, a slow grin spreading across his face in the darkness. “Aisha Van Buren. As I live and breathe.” “… Who is this?” Thompson slips into an exaggerated British accent, an affectation he had either adopted from his English mother or more likely from TikTok, and one that amused him no end. “It’s Tom Weathers. How the bloody hell have you been, old girl?” Based on the icy silence that greets him it is not an affectation she shares his affection for. Finally, a sigh. “Put Freddie on the phone.” “No please? It’s really late here, Aish, though I guess it’s later for you. Are you up with the mystery baby? Ariel, is it? If you want any parenting tips I’m a pro.” More silence, and when she speaks he can hear it’s through gritted teeth. “Thompson. Please could you put Freddie on the line?” “Ah, I’d love to. Truly, nothing would make me happier. But no can do.” He throws a weed gummy up in the air, though he misses his mouth and it hits him straight in the face. Flinching, he tries again, this time making it. As he bites down the grassy taste rolls over his tongue, his enjoyment of the moment becoming that bit richer. “OK, fine—" “See, he’s balls deep in some gold digger right now, so I don’t think he’d want me to disturb him. I can take a message though. … Aish? Aishaaa? Hello?” He glances at the phone, the lock screen flashing up as the line goes dead. With a sigh of his own, Tom turns to the girl beside him whose name he had never bothered to ask, or at least never committed to memory once she’d said it. “Some people are so rude, don’t you think?” |