. achilles heel

[calvin keller]

The forced camaraderie is just enough to settle him, so familiar in its awkwardness that Calvin knew when to lean in. When Kitty's greeting felt foreign and aloof, when Violet slipped back through the door for what remained unspoken. One flash of those eyes could get her just about anything, just as one flash of Kitty's could have someone running the second it narrowed, and turned. He assesses her again quickly but the night is young and there's that thrumming anxiousness. That desire to tip, stumble and fall that they all were reaching for, tugging a pack of cigarettes from his pocket as they waited. "Anyone?" He offers with a stick already tucked into his mouth, the box of Gitanes a rare import his mother admonished publicly but supplied privately, another mystery of hers he'd never unravel. If anyone here thought they kept good secrets they'd never hold a candle to his mother, likely not Schuyler either, almost laughing to himself at the image of her and Kitty squaring off in their good girl apathy. It's then that he suddenly remembers she'd asked him a question, as vague as it was, blowing the smoke above her dainty head. "Could be better," he admits, tipping his gaze down in question. Of what tonight might bring, what else she's hiding, what he might find between those sweet innuendos and sordid, baiting lies. Finding he might like deciphering one from the other as he palms her shoulder suddenly, squeezing to move past just as he takes another drag. "I'll go find Violet, car's here."

[dominic vinten cuvo]

The best of friends they were—with all their secrets and lies. Not as stilted and choreographed as the party interactions around them, but rather improvised against a slew of different backdrops with various props in the form of people and substances. It seemed they had just returned to a harmony after Violet’s rehab release and the theatrics that came along with her homecoming party. Even the slit on Kitty’s lip was still healing, well-concealed beneath a slash of lipstick he wonders the taste of. Violet’s story never ceases to amuse him, barely noticing her slip out of his grasp—he thought he felt a light draft—to slink away. He tossed a pointed glance Kitty’s way, assessing the uncouth behavior. “Defeats the purpose of a flask,” he sighed, having already picked up on the vodka she must have enjoyed earlier. With the three of them left alone, he watched Kitty and Cal appraise one another. If they were his dolls to play with, Dom would have them already kissing. "Perfect way to pass the time," he obliges Cal's offer, taking a foreign cigarette and leaning into a light. His cheeks briefly sunk as he inhaled, letting the smoke drift from his lips back toward his nostrils, relishing the nicotine rush. "Everything's better in French, n'est-ce pas?” he grinned, glad to be left alone with his Kitty.

[violet spencer]

As she excuses herself, Violet knows what she's signing up for. The conversation to turn to her, the word addict flown around as if she hadn't just been in rehab. Besides Kitty scolding her for her inability to stop indulging in the issue, it's why she loved hanging with Calvin and Dom. Dom turning a blind eye, encouraging Violet to do whatever her heart desired while Cal watched. Never stopping her, but  studying her like he could halt one wrong turn she made. Not in the knight and shining armor, sense. Violet mumbles a few hi's to familiar faces as she's en route to her destination. Pleased that no one stopped her, as she feels her heart pounding as the craving becomes more apparent. The vodka is easy to find, cups near by to help her indulge. She pours the liquor straight into the cup, giving it a few seconds to settle before tossing it straight back. One more pour and a tip back, she feels the regular sensation taking care. The itch was scratched. Cal finds her and she doesn't feel an ounce of guilt. Not with him. "Hi you. Are we ready to go? And don't you look handsome, this evening."

[kitty smith-sato]

Stepping out into the balmy evening, a low breeze blows her high pony across her back. It feels good, her serotonin levels still out of whack from her indulgent evening with Dom. Her nose scrunches up at the sight of the cigarettes, holding a hand up to decline. Calvin's hand is suddenly on her shoulder and it catches her unawares, as he is capable of doing-- no small feat. His palm is warm and smooth with a life lived free of any kind of hard labor, or any labor at all. She misses it when it's gone and she hates that, steeling herself for the rest of the night. It was easy to tease and taunt with two thousand miles of separation, Kitty is quickly realizing it won't be quite so easy to maintain her high ground with Calvin right in front of her. So she's relieved when he's gone. "Sir Calvin, white knight of the Hollywood Hills." It's quiet and still and she can't help the smirk that spreads across her face when she looks at Dominic, still feeling a thread of connection to him. Once strained, now restored... at least, for now. "Smoking will ruin your looks," she says, as though she hadn't just forced her stomach to empty itself. He replies in French and her eyes narrow, confirming a suspicion that lingered from the other night. ""T'es un connard," she says, not without affection. "If she gets messy tonight I'm going home. I don't feel like repeating history."

[dominic vinten cuvo]

Everyone keeps moving around and rearranging, offering a new sight almost every time he checks the group. “But it looks so much cooler than vaping,” he defends, blowing a ring of smoke through the air. He thinks Gia might have taught him that trick—made him smoke an entire pack the day she caught him. He didn’t indulge often for exactly Kitty's reason, but he knew better than to agree with her right away. Besides, he needed something to occupy his hands or mouth, and seeing as he’d finished his drink and he did not dare touch Kitty so soon (and reignite his need for her), some chemicals would have to do. “She’s back to square one with her tolerance. It’s almost adorable, isn’t it? She’s like a high schooler all over again,” he said fondly, wishing his own tolerance could be that low again—but without the sobriety requirement of it. Calvin’s insistence on finding her indicates his willingness to supervise her, Dominic assumes, rolling his eyes when the driver arrives and the other pair are still missing. “Does she think we’re going somewhere without a bar?” he sneered, not sure if he even knew of such places. If any existed, he certainly didn’t patronize them. Stubbing out the half-finished cigarette, Dominic didn’t acknowledge the driver as he ducked into the cabin, looking out toward Kitty. “Come, sit on my lap before Calvin does.”

[calvin keller]

Stepping back into the party is another onslaught of disappointment, still curious how they'd manage to converse and even worse, how the hell this party had been drawn together in the first place. Cliquey, waning and just plain sad, Calvin had half an idea to tell everyone to leave or at the very last change the playlist before Violet's glimmering hair catches his eye. Even in a sea of dull, and stuck in the shell of a past self, his friend glowed in the dimmed light, the cup to her mouth rhythmic and decided. A fever she can't sweat out, catching the tip of her elbow and fixing his gaze pointedly at the bottle in a request to pour him one. Wincing at the lukewarm harshness of it, her ability to stare blank faced in its wake. A gift and a curse, all wrapped up in honeyed doe eyes. "Yeah, car's here," he finally murmurs, tugging her close under his shoulder as he takes another drag. They drift into the foyer until he hesitates, meets her gaze again before a quick kiss is dropped to her forehead. "Just...go easy on yourself, yeah?" It's not a discouragement, more of a warning for what lurked outside of the door, that swarming protectiveness buzzing again as his ears ring and the vodka haunts the edges of his tongue the swirling smoke does not catch. One final look over her and he recomposes himself, a vision of aloof and attentive that he'd managed to master as he drags the door open once again to find them waiting in the heavily tinted Escalade. "Let's actually go fucking party," he announces as he tumbles in, tugging Violet along once he confirms the address with his driver and meeting watchful, curious eyes. Oh, right, their destination. "Bird Streets Club. You can have a cocktail or you can dance all night...a friend's there, said the madness has started."

[kitty smith-sato]

This was quite the test for a friendship that had only been mended recently. Still, Kitty never shied away from a challenge-- quite the opposite. It wouldn't take much to send her spiralling again; maybe Dom's eye would linger on Violet for a fraction of a second too long, or he could overshare something private with Calvin, to her detriment. She resolves to cross that bridge if and when she came to it, all too happy to take him at face value for once, still not back to full conniving capacity. "Adorably tedious, maybe." Another shrug to his rhetorical question. She had no idea what went on in Violet's head, but unlike Calvin, she had no interest in trying to find out. Dom's invitation is one that would usually send her eyes rolling but she's feeling possessive, keen to signal their renewed allegiance, so sit on his lap she does. Stretching her glossy legs out over the spare seats, she settles into him. Up close she narrows her eyes once more, pushing his sunglasses up with one manicured finger and snorting when she does. "Ah, should have known. Dysport or Bocouture?" All too soon the others emerge. She folds her legs down, readjusting herself in Dom's lap to make space. "Can I have aux privileges?" she asks, though she connects to the bluetooth anyway. With little interest in what anyone else might want to listen to she plays Cigarettes out the Window by TV Girl, settling in to the comforting envelopment of Dom's cologne and a current favorite song. Maybe LA wasn't so bad after all.

[violet spencer]

With his presence, comes a warning. Violet welcomes him into her space. As her fingers gently unclasp from the cup that just held the vodka, she smiles into his forehead kiss. "I'll be good, I promise," she's unsure if she means it but says it to please Calvin. And promises between their group, only went so far. There was no telling how the night would go on. And if her favorite temptations fell into her possession. Alcohol was better than the drugs, her sick mind said as Cal tugs her along to meet the two of them the car. The heavy smell of cigarettes touching her nose as he pulls her into the car. The door shuts behind her and Violet looks to Kitty who's planted on Dom's lap. Violet's head shakes, a smirk following as the two make eye contact. Calvin yells the address at the driver and they're off on their journey. She feels better already, the vodka hitting and allowing her body to feel loose. Kitty request the AUX cord and it's really like no time has passed between the four of them. Cal roping them all up, Kitty and Dom's odd behavior towards each other and Kitty demanding to play the music. They arrive at the destination and they're filing out of the car. Kitty is close to her again and she whispers into her best friend's ear. "I'm not going to drink anymore. I just wanted to take the edge off. So don't let me, OK?" The lies fall so easily from her lips, she doesn't even recognize her own voice just the one inside her heads that says keep going.

[dominic vinten cuvo]

Of course the car had plenty of seats but Dom liked to make his preferences known, so he’s delighted when Kitty obliges and slips into his lap. His vision is still darkened by the sunglasses, nose filling with her perfume, other senses still repairing after his recent weekend abusing his neurotransmitters. After the cigarette he’d popped in a piece of gum, mending his breath and keeping his teeth from grinding, minty saliva lubricating his throat. “Oh, was I supposed to ask?” he teased to her question, biting a tiny bubble between the white flash of his teeth. One arm swirls around Kitty, the other along the seat back. Finally, they were going somewhere! Away from the party-that-was-maybe-his party in the house-that-might-have-been-his house. Hopefully that bizarre turn of events would quickly be forgotten, music and a buzz helping on the way to their destination. “Reunited at last,” he chimed, as both occasions recently had lacked Kitty’s presence. Lacked, not necessarily missed. Idle chatter passed the time until the WeHo club came into focus, Dominic the last to exit the car behind Kitty’s slight figure.

[calvin keller]

If there's some credit he will offer Kitty, it's that whatever mood they seem to be in her music taste will often follow. The rhythmic chime of the song blares over the speaker, trippy and melodic and dragging him in and under. Focus sharpened to the four of them, the rareness of this proximity, hand sliding over Violet's slight knee to offer a squeeze of subtle gratitude. He was as happy to see her here as much as he was happy to just see her alive, unable to conjure visions under the synthetic soothing of the song drifting up and into the night. It's why it's almost jarring when they pull up to one of his latest preferred haunts, barely aware of what had happened in that car, a series of skips and jumps as they slid from one place to the next. Trying to catch the fabric of reality when he catches the slice of a ponytail reflect in the night, the perfect gloss of Kitty's hair as alluring as the pointed edges of her body and her mind. Guard clicking back in place, falling into step next to Dominic with a familiar clap to his shoulder. "Almost feels like old times already," he murmurs, easing further into the recognition that this was his home, that he was almost on higher ground here, dusky light bathing tufted booths in the front and a smokey arch leading way to the dance floor below. A rare place where the hours could drift past two, glittering against a noise ordinance and reflecting off of memorable faces. A few come to greet him before he snags a booth and a magnum of champagne arrives unceremoniously, Calvin drifting his hand in Kitty's direction. "Want to do the honors? Or can you not lift it?"

[kitty smith-sato]

Kitty pointedly avoids looking in Calvin's direction as they drive, instead fixating on her "brother", up close and personal. She was getting used to being mere inches away from his face, familiar with every element of it, ready to open her mouth to tell him he needs to incorporate hyaluronic acid into his skincare routine when they grind to a stop and she forgets all about it. Leaving the car, an eyebrow raises at Violet's whispered promise. As someone with almost legendary self control, Kitty found everyone else came up short, and in that regard, no one came up shorter than Violet. Skepticism is written all over her face but she forces another smile, her voice honeyed, "am I supposed to stop priests from molesting kids while I'm at it? Girls from sleeping with their nagging boyfriends after prom?"  It doesn't take long for them to transition to a table, ushered inside and past the line of people groaning at their special treatment. Though she makes sure to mask it, she's impressed by the choice, the vibes immediately a thousand times better than the party. "Very funny," she says, taking Cal's bait as she stands and expertly uncorks the champagne, twisting the bottle so that the cork gently pops out into her hand. Admittedly, she does have to stand to be able to do this. "I'd have popped it but I don't want anyone losing an eye. Not all of us were cliche enough to wear sunglasses at night." She sits back down, accepting defeat in at the prospect of trying to wield the huge bottle to pour. She's next to Dominic and opposite Calvin, a configuration that felt correct. She looks diagonally to Violet. "Come on then, tell us some more rehab stories Anna Nicole."

[dominic vinten cuvo]

During an undistracted moment Dominic is disappointed that there aren’t any drinks awaiting them in the car, everything forced to settle in his system for the few minutes of their transit to the club. He’d been here before with a different crowd, probably Calvin too, recalling a sensible five-figure membership cost—chump change for them. For the celebrity clientele and luxury discretion it was worth it in spades, obvious as they’re swept to privacy and Dom’s eyes meet a magnum of champagne with delight. “You say cliché, I say brilliantly careful,” Dom challenged toward Kitty, wagging the lenses over his eyes before pocketing the glasses. That would probably be the last time he ever saw them. There was a natural order to how the pairs mixed and matched. Separate bonds and different histories, the rankings of which were still unclear to Dom as he had rekindled with Kitty, was intrigued by Calvin’s latest secret, and tried to solidify his ground with Violet before someone could shake it. This was how it usually ended up, the girls versus the boys before shifting to the unofficial ‘couples.’ With peace restored, Dominic felt extra possessive of this little posse of theirs. Commandeering the bottle from Kitty, Dominic dispersed heavy pours to everyone and raised his glass in cheers. “To the best of friends…doing what we do best,” he toasted, bubbles splashing to his tongue at last.

[calvin keller]

He'd missed this particular game of chess. Unaware of how deeply until his elation crested, the breadth of his protectiveness grew, and the insular lean of their bodies drifted naturally into the booth in instinctual choreography. It gave him a perfect peripheral view of Kitty's glowing cheekbone as she twisted to Violet, kicking Dom's foot under the table in almost boyish amusement as he finally, surprisingly, cracked a smile. He wouldn't go far enough to dissect if it was honesty or whatever ran thin in his system. He'd need more of it all soon anyway, an eternal chase and chasm, holding his glass aloft to Dom's surprisingly raucous toast before the champagne slid crisp and clear down his throat. Hours would likely stretch before them, testing stories and boundaries, assessing where each could suddenly push now that one of them had flirted with Death and beaten the stakes. Calvin tunes back into Violet, her smoke-tinged voice as sultry as it had always been, casually resting a hand on her thigh under the table as his glass steadily disappeared. It half felt like they were playing catch up with everyone else but in reality eyes often fell on them. In curiosity, in the way the power sometimes thrummed off of them in uncaring, unyielding waves. As alluring as it was devastating, Cal flicking his eyes back to Kitty, then Dom, glass still poised at his lips before he tilted his head, mentally running through the contents of his pocket. "Are you feeling more lover or fighter tonight, Dear Dominic?"

[violet spencer]

They walk towards the entrance and Violet's eyes roll so hard in the back of her head, at Kitty's response of holding her accountable. Just as much as Katherine judged her, she would not stop Violet from proceeding down the dark path that hovered over her.  The music is loud and the atmosphere is what she loves. The jumping of her heart with every drop of the beat. The four of them shove into a booth, when Calvin returns, magnum champagne in tow. These were the nights that she missed, even as a part of her stomach turns thinking about how badly this could turn out..again. The thought is so quick though, she pushes it away just as fast as it came upon her. The drink pops as her friend opens it, watching as it bubbles inside the glass. Chuckling at Kitty's attempt of pouring the giant bottle, Violet welcomes the flute in her hand as Dom divvies up the alcohol, some spilling out with fizz. "I'm all rehabbed out for the night. Another time. Tell me what else you've been up to while in LA" Not wishing to speak or think of the horror stories of the time she deemed as jail, only wanting to live for the moment with her friends. Dominic offers up his glass and toast, the rest of the group joining him in a cheers.  Cal's warm hand graces her upper high as she finishes her first, long sip of the crispy champagne. Ears perking up with curiosity when Calvin asks Dom a question on regarding their friend's mood.

[kitty smith-sato]

The first sip of champagne is crisp on her tongue, perfectly chilled and immediately recognisable as a good vintage. It's Kitty's first drink of the night and she'll nurse it, much more determined to keep her wits about her than her apathetic friends. She keeps a keen eye on everyone else's drink levels, conscious not to be visibly falling behind, though they all knew what she was like. Despite everything, including the lingering resentment she still felt towards the three of them for excluding her, Dom's toast brings something almost akin to a genuine smile to her face as she clinks her glass. "To the best of friends," she echoed, her voice only very lightly tinged with a taunting tone. Realistically, she should be grateful that they put up with her. Her attention naturally drifts towards Calvin, still a novelty for how long it had been since she'd last seen him. There was so much more to pick up on in the flesh, but Kitty's special interest was his dynamic with Violet, protective obviously but something else too. What else had she been doing in LA? A brief flashback, Dom's half-smirk, cunning as a fox as he watched her, back arched. She banishes the thought immediately. "I haven't been up to much, I only arrived yesterday. Please, regale me with tales of what you've all been doing without me, I'd love to hear it." Her tone makes no secret of the fact she would absolutely not like to hear it. Kitty takes the opportunity presented by the question posed to Dom to top up everyone's glasses, an effort that she has to stand to manage.