uppers, downers, all-arounders

[thompson weathers]

Thompson had suffered many a comedown in his life. He'd seen hangovers bad enough to land himself in hospital, and he had known the exhaustion of cocaine fuelled all nighters. However, he wasn't sure he had ever experienced all of the above, all at the same time, dialled up to eleven. As the group settles into the jet, every single person is wearing sunglasses, sweatpants and nursing some kind of beverage, as if a sports drink could undo the seventy-two hours of full on assault they had all subjected themselves to. The mood is decidedly less jovial than it had been on their outbound flight, but somehow, Thompson, brave soldier that he is, is able to see the funny side. "Come on troops, perk up! Let's go round the room and each say our highlight and lowlight of the trip, always good to reflect while the memories are still fresh. Who wants to go first? Fred, you're our de facto leader, why don't you show 'em how it's done."

[freddie beaumont]

His head is pounding as the whole crew boards onto the private jet. It was a whirlwind of a weekend, especially with how Freddie first began the infamous Vegas trip. His intentions to be somewhat tame went out the window when some molly got involved. From then on, the old Freddie who thrived in Vegas was back amongst the group. He thanks the pilots after they go over the safety measures and he settles into the seat. The group was more quiet and the energy deemed less excited than their previous experience in this exact plane.  He sips on a bottle of water as Thompson begins to speak. Freddie wasn't sure why but he could feel himself getting irritated at the man speaking. Maybe it was the fact that they had spent too much time together and he was feeling the repercussions of the weekend already. Freddie takes another swig as Thompson continues on about memories. He's not surprised that he's volunteered first to share what he loved most about the weekend. He stretches his legs a little bit more and clears his throat. "Ah, Thompson, I'm a little too hungover for this," Freddie responds with a chuckle. "But I think my favorite part was winning big on roulette." It's a double meaning, but he wouldn't delve into further detail on that. That was his special secret. "Or maybe when Stassi basically slapped me to tell me to get my shit together." Freddie locks eyes with Stassi who's seated a row behind him with Pat and sees her giggle. "You next."

[thompson weathers]

"You need to say a low point too," Thompson drawls, looking out the window as Stassi says something about seeing Maya on stage at whatever stupid show they went to, following it up with her disappointment at not getting chosen herself. Maya goes next and Tom isn't even pretending to listen to what anyone says, pulling his phone up and playing Candy Crush, nursing the bottle of neon Gatorade that was doing very little to bring him back to life. Finally it comes back round to him, and it takes the group calling him out by name for him to snap back to attention. A sly grin spreads across his face as he finally gets the chance to drop a bomb, his only motivation for starting the inane game so that he could finally reveal his final cards. He takes his sunglasses off, pretending to think about it, really mulling it over. "Hmm... hard to say. So many highs..." He takes a long sip of Gatorade. Finally he nods, feigning inspiration. "Of course! Highlight would be getting to spend more time with all you lovely people. Really, such a pleasure. Low light... that's a little harder. I guess it would have to go to a couple nights ago, when Aisha wouldn't stop calling your phone, Freddie. She was pretty rude about it too."

[freddie beaumont]

If he wasn't so hungover, he'd have a glass of champagne or something in his hand. Usually hair of the dog did the trick but his head was pounding in all directions, so water was the cure. Freddie rolls his eyes at Thompson's comment about saying a low, not wanting to say how much of a downer he's been on his trip. Less conflict the better. Stassi starts the rest of the groups highs and lows and Freddie watches how unamused Thompson appears.  Freddie almost stops listening except when he hears Aisha's name. Not evening caring about his highlight, which was obviously fake. Freddie knew Thompson better than anyone on this plane, he was here strictly for a good time and not about the company. He lets him finish telling the story of as Freddie feels his heart nearly beating out of his chest. "What are you talking about?" His words come out in a manner he's not used to speaking in, firm and confused. He glances down to his phone, seeing the call log. Hovering over her name, Freddie finds the time and the statement that it was an incoming call. He leans towards in the seat, seething as the evidence was clear as day. "First off, why were you answering my phone? And second, why are you telling me just now?" Freddie's eyebrow furrow and he finds himself shaking his head out of annoyance. He's piecing the puzzle together more, looking upon Thompson's face that's filled with glory. "What the fuck did you say?" His words come out in a slight growl.

[thompson weathers]

If Thompson believed that life was supposed to have purpose, he would have to admit that his was to sow discord. Very little else mattered to the man at the end of the day, since everything else was boring. Money, women, booze, it was all so pedestrian, so accessible, that the only option that ever seemed to actually spice life up was anarchy. Be loyal to no one, act in accordance with no one's interests-- not even your own. Which was how he ended up with daughters called Malibu and Memphis, and how he's ended up with an increasingly infuriated Freddie staring him down. Adrenaline spikes into his bloodstream and it is addictive, making his smirk grow wider. "Better question is why don't you have your phone on silent? Who does that in 2023?" Freddie is giving him more of a reaction than he'd expected, which of course he loves. "I said hello, I told her you were busy, I offered to take a message. Don't go shitting the bed over it, Beaumont."

[freddie beaumont]

Thompson continues to taunt Freddie. The smirk ever growing on Thompson's smug face. It infuriates Freddie the more he studies him. Freddie takes a deep breath and realizes that the cabin has slowly gone silent. He exhales and feels the anger becoming more prevalent. If he were to look down at his watch, his heartbeat was well increased from his resting rate. All worrisome thoughts cross his mind as he thinks of why Aisha would call him. It was very out of character for Freddie to get this upset. Despite having an adventurous lifestyle as many said, he was laid back, collected and cool. None of those adjectives could be used to describe him in this given moment. His eyes roll as Thompson proceeds to make fun of Freddie for having his phone off of silent. This phone call was the very reason why he had it off of always silent mode. "Funny, if I was answer your phone, you'd probably sue me." Freddie utters, more calmly than his previous statements. The instant that Thompson recites their phone call, Freddie spots the lies. Aisha would've texted him some snarky response about who answered the phone, so he knows there's more to this story.  "Tell me what you actually said. Now."

[thompson weathers]

Thompson scoffs. "Never sued anyone in my life bro, couldn't give a shit. Call my wife if you want." He wonders for a few moments what Freddie would have said if it had been Cece calling, and he knows that he would have either been polite, or not answered at all. How dull. Still, even if he had, Tommy can't imagine having this kind of reaction to it - was Aisha even his girlfriend? He gets a small thrill at the idea that maybe she was, that maybe he just landed him deep in it. But he doesn't think so. Freddie was a lot of things, but if he ever did decide to settle down, Tom had a sense that he'd be loyal. Fuck knows why. "I told her you were busy. That's a fact. Both that you were busy, and that I told her that-- two facts, in fact. Why are you being so fucking uptight about this? Who gives a shit?" He takes another swig of Gatorade, though the adrenaline is doing more for his hangover than the electrolytes ever could. He starts to laugh. "Shit, is she mad? Mad mad? Has she been blanking you? Boo hoo Fred, I guess you'll have to go console yourself with any of the literal hundreds of rich blonde girls you've also fucked. Oh how will you ever recover."

[freddie beaumont]

"Right, you could've give a shit." Freddie knows that although Thompson could careless about a lot of things, he knew how brutal he could be. Take this situation for example. Freddie's eyes bounce back and forth between the smirk on his friend's face and the clenched fist on his own thigh. Deep breath, he's not worth it, he mentally repeats to himself three times. He's trying so hard not to give him the reaction he wants, but it's too late for that now. Aisha was a sore subject to Freddie. His mind was wandering to everything, anxious that something was wrong with her or maybe Aria. It's not how Freddie wanted to be, stuck on an airplane and unable to call her.  "Alright, that's fucking enough," he responds just as Thompson finishes his last insult. The last one too close to home, regarding Aisha and his taste for rich women. Glancing towards the front of the plane, the pilots seemed absolutely oblivious to what was happening in the cabin behind them. Freddie's clinched right fist connects instantaneously with Thompson's face. The impact, extremely hard. "That's for disrespecting Aisha." He states just as his hand pulls from back from the first punch. Freddie believes he hears a gasp coming from the direction of where Olivia was seated. "Also, fuck you." He connects again with his face. "My phone was off of silent in case Aisha needed me because of our fucking daughter." He grounds out, through gritted teeth. He feels like that's enough, and sits back in his seat. Though his anger wasn't fully diminished, Freddie felt relief. "Surprise, yeah. Whatever. I'm Aisha's baby daddy," he responds to the shocked faces of the group.

[thompson weathers]

The chiding is working and of course Thompson should feel bad about it, should hate to see how much of an impact his behavior is having on one of his closest friends. Truthfully, most people on this plane were completely disposable to him, the kind of people he didn't spend a second thinking about once they were out of his immediate eye line. But Freddie wasn't that. They had gone to the same school, their families were friends and truthfully, Thompson actually liked him. But he was bored and hungover and as his wife knew better than anyone, when he felt like fucking things up, none of that mattered.  Of course there's an uncomfortable tension on the plane as Freddie tells him it's enough, and of course he thrives on that. Before he can register what's happening, there's a warmth spreading over his chin, his neck-- oh, that's blood, and a split second later the pain sets in, a white hot searing pain from his nose spreading out across his face, numb and throbbing at the same time. It's agony but he's laughing, blood pouring into his mouth and covering his teeth, spilling on his shirt. "Did you seriously just punch me?" He stands, laughing as the reveal comes, making him clap his hands together. "Oh that is so good! Fucking hell, can you believe that?" He gestures to Freddie, finally looking at other passengers, gleeful through the pain. "You guys won't know, but Aish is this total cunt of a girl back home. Real stuck up type. She had this kid-- oh, this is too good." He claps again, shaking his head. "Bravo, dude. I really thought it was Tate, but no, this makes sense. Well. Welcome to the baby daddy club, it sucks."

[freddie beaumont]

His eyes wander up to a bloody faced Thompson. Blood dripped onto what he assumed was an expensive shirt and Freddie genuinely could care less. He's clapping and putting on a show. Freddie rubs the portion of his knuckles that served him the impact. In the heat of the moment, he forgot that his hand would feel the anger he released. Pain shoots through his palm as well, Freddie  flexes his fingers to eliminate the odd sensation. He looks to the other passengers as their eyes were still opened wide at his actions. His lip curls up when he once again insults Aisha. Red is all he sees when he speaks about Aria. "You're a sick fuck, you know that?" He scoffs at his remark about Tate being the father. His clapping is really beginning to irritate him. As his 'friend' walks around the cabin, making the scene even larger than it needed to be. "You're just asking me to punch you again. Shut your mouth." He's warning him, his eyes dark and his eyebrows heavy as his look is anything but kind. Thompson ends his speech, running his mouth and cheering obnoxiously. Freddie is up on his feet in a matter of seconds. Shaking his head in disbelief, as Thompson was now mere inches in front of him. "Sit your ass down. This conversation is done."

[thompson weathers]

It's far from the first fist to the face that Tom has suffered, but he's gotta hand it to his pal, that was one hell of a right hook. The pain is immense and he's almost certain that his nose is broken, but even stood in searing pain with no hope for imminent medical assistance there is no way he'll ever take it further than these four walls. His love for provocation was matched by a respect for when that provocation was met, regardless of how much it might hurt in the moment. "Hey, I'm not the one sharing my bestie's sister with him." OK, probably enough on that particular front. Thompson picks up a napkin, holding his head back and trying to stem the still flowing blood, the taste of copper thick and metallic in his mouth. "Go on. Punch me again, if going neanderthal really feels like it's what you need to do. I won't hit you back. You're achieving so much, Fred, really, what a great father you're shaping up to be so far, huh?"

[freddie beaumont]

Freddie doesn't have it in him to argue much longer. Tate was doing what any brother would do, help raise a child when their sister needed help. Only Thompson would see the situation and twist into something sinister. His head was back to pounding again, but probably not the amount of pain Thompson was feeling right now. He looks at the blood once again, realizing his actions and knows that this wasn't the way to handle it. But he was provoked and when you combined that with offending people he cared about, the situation changed. Freddie steps back at his last words, dubbing him a neanderthal. He huffs as he sits back into his seat. "I'm not going to take advice or hear any words from you about being a good parent," Freddie responds with disgust. Aware of his much of a father Thompson truly was. Freddie lets out another sigh as he feels all eyes upon him again. "I'm really sorry everyone."

[thompson weathers]

Maybe he wasn't such a neanderthal after all, because he was quite right there. Thompson's mind had not wandered to his daughters once over the whole weekend, not even when he had been thinking about Cece, not even with Christmas such a recent memory. Would he ever hit someone to defend their honor? Probably not. "You got me there," he grins. With a frustrated sigh Jane gets to her feet, taking the crimson napkin from his hands and inspecting his nose for a second. Without warning she cracks it back into place, sending another wave of pain through Thompson, one much worse than the initial injury even, and finally he reacts, "fuck, ow!" He bats her away, though she was already turning back to her seat. Finally he sits back down, grinning ear to ear despite the intense pain throbbing through his face. "Actually you're all welcome. In flight entertainment. Anyone want a beer?"

[freddie beaumont]

In all the years that he's known Thompson, 'fatherly' was not something that he would use to describe him. Given the girls weren't that old anyways, but his friend didn't seem all that proud to wear the so-called badge of honor. Freddie was scared shitless. He's had an inkling for a long time that Aria belonged to him but his lack of maturity at the time prevented him from being serious. Where he was at currently in life right now, he was deemed slightly more mature and ready to correct his faults. Although punching someone because of some words, didn't scream mature either. Jane joins the pair for a quick second as she puts Thompson's nose back into place. Smirking at how she immediately retreats back to her seat, not giving Thompson any of the attention he most likely required from her. "I'll have a beer if you can please stop talking." Freddie rubs his temples and closed his eyes for a second to feel the throbbing. Maybe it was time for a hair of the dog, after all.