. far east

[jane ridley]

JANE RIDLEY Her eyes flick up and down in their own appraisal, taking another swipe onto her finger. She was so used to seeing Oscar shirtless on the beach or casually donning a t-shirt, the crisp chef whites almost a stark contrast to his bright personality. Something that simultaneously attracted and intrigued her more, full lips curling into a grin at his secret. “Amazing what ten pounds of butter and salt will do,” she confirms, still ever a secret fan of the mecca of bulk purchases. “I once tried to impress an ex of mine by claiming I made a mean chicken pot pie...bought it right by their deli counter.” Jane can all but taste that flaky crust on her tongue, motioning for him to share the champagne to try to wash the taste out. This was where the expensive stuff fared better, crisp and bubbly on her tongue. “Can't beat this though,” she continues out loud, studying the foreign label before her eyes snap up. “Unless Kirkland started doing Champagne, too.” She doesn't find the familiar bold word anywhere as her face flushes at his compliment. An inclination that she belonged was a true way to her heart, setting the bowl aside as she studied him once more. “And you look very professional.” The words echo in the empty kitchen, Jane tilting her head to the side. “What do you do now if your day is done? Enjoy the spoils?”

[oscar rutherford]

TATE & OSCAR Finally there's a pause, Tate taking the opportunity to finish off the drink that had been warming in his hand as he manoeuvred through the crowd. So far the evening had been an undeniable success, compliments flowing and minimal drama erupting, the latter a rarity when it came to McCarthy functions. Glancing around for Olivia, suddenly a petite brunette appears at his elbow, her face vaguely familiar. He quickly tries to place her, fairly certain she was another Blair kid, though he couldn't be entirely sure. "Hey," he says, avoiding saying her name as he couldn't remember it. She pouts and he feels a fission of something he can't yet place. "Ah, sorry, my dad has me on entertaining duties. Are you having a good time?" "Yeah, you look like you know a lot about butter," he says, openly checking her slender figure out. He hands her the bottle, returning to the huge double doored fridge and opening it up. He fishes out a plate, taking it over to her. "Espresso and salted caramel doughnuts. But by all means, stick with the frosting if you prefer." He laughs at her comment, which reminds him to slip off his whites, revealing a white t-shirt underneath. "I'll hang around in case anyone wants anything, but mainly just to watch the fireworks. Though this isn't the friendliest holiday for a Brit. How's your evening been? Got any gossip for me?"

[olivia hamilton]

SCARLETT & FREDDIE Scarlett nonchalantly checks Tate out when he turns to face her. She'd taken a few steps back to really get a good look at him. The former Blair group always seemed to migrate towards each other, especially in functions like this. Everyone so intertwined with one another. "I guess I forgive you," she quickly puts the pout away and replaces it with a smile. Her eyes  are locked on him, but they do glance around in this moment to see if anyone else was watching. She catches a confused look thrown her way by Victoria, but Scarlett continues on. "Yeah, it's been fun. As it always is." Olivia out of her mind as she's brushes her hand against Tate's arm. "So you and Olivia?" She brings her drink to her lips as she asks the questions. "I'm not going to lie. She doesn't really seem like your type." The alcohol had really loosened her tongue. Remembering the past that he'd dated a short, brunette like herself.  Freddie maneuvered his way from the lawn, back into the house. Escaping the grasps of his mother as Beatrice continued to speak to the mother of his child, or soon to be children. He gives the laughing pair one more look before fully heading into the house. Spying his sister Georgie, he comes into her group of friends. Offering them all hellos and kisses to their cheeks. Georgie is throwing Freddie several death glares, as all of her Freddie swarm to speak with her charming brother.  He takes the hint, exiting the group, giving his apologies and mingling throughout the house with other familiar faces. While he's in the house, he sees Jane heading in the direction of the kitchen. He's curious, what was this all about? Jane had many ways and tons of connections, but   she seems to be on a mission. He doesn't make his presence known, people were shifting in and out but he listens to Jane speak, when suddenly a very familiar accent talks back. His head shakes, as their words bounce back in forth with such casualness. Hmm, Freddie wonders, keeping this interaction in the back of his mind as he makes his way back into the party.

[jane ridley]

JANE RIDLEY “Don't judge a book by its cover, Oscar,” she mock admonishes, eyes lighting up at the donuts he was delivering. Sweets had always been one of her biggest weaknesses, unable to decline even a hint of sugar as she dropped the bowl to her side, biting into the glazed espresso pastry with a hum of satisfaction. “Oh my god,” Jane all but moans, savoring the taste on her tongue and already plotting to track down more back outside as she followed it with a swig of champagne. Gaze jumping to the window at the mention of fireworks, dusk starting to settle in as lights glowed above the lawn. “Funny how we're all fascinated with big, sparkly things.” She was sure the display would be nothing but opulent, intrigued by her own giddy excitement at the night. It felt childish, and fun, posture loose and smile wide as Oscar finally shoved out of his coat. “There he is,” she murmurs, tipping her head to ponder his question. “It's been good. I met my friend Olivia's old friends who had...strange senses of humor, I'll say. Just kind of stiff. Saw some parents discover a vape on the ground and have no idea what it was. One of the investment guys was double spiking his drink but otherwise it all seems...tame. For now." Jane swigs again, eyes trailing back outside to try to see where Fitz had mingled off to and feeling curiosity tug when she saw him and Caesar McCarthy chatting animatedly on the deck. “I think this is my chance to meet the infamous Caesar,” Jane starts, sliding off the counter as she handed the bottle back. Touch drifting to his elbow quickly, eyes widening in question. “I'll find you later?”