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message 1: by ๖ۣۜSαᴙαh (last edited May 08, 2015 06:55PM) (new)

๖ۣۜSαᴙαh ๖ۣۜMᴄĄłłiƨʈeʀ (inked_chinadoll) Name: Jackson "Jax" Pierce
Age: 23
Appearance: (view spoiler)

Personality: flirtatious; charming; charismatic; popular; emotional; artistic; cocky

message 2: by Deanna (new)

Deanna | 477 comments Name: Weston Black
Age: 26
(view spoiler)

Personality: brooding; serious; jealous; self-serving; seductive; morally neutral

๖ۣۜSαᴙαh ๖ۣۜMᴄĄłłiƨʈeʀ (inked_chinadoll) In the end, Jackson wasn’t quite sure why he had been so nervous to begin with; he had been in the modeling industry for over a year now, and while his star was most assuredly rising, it was nothing in comparison to his coworker, Weston Black. As someone well aware of the art of Photoshop, Jax had to admit that he had been secretly stunned when meeting West in person: the man was actually as good looking as his images made him out to be. It was a little intimidating, but the young model did not let it show. Instead, he was his usual charming self, and by the end of the day, he was feeling rather comfortable in his lack of clothing.

Standing on the cold, concrete floor of the studio in his bare feet, Jax took a sip of water from the bottle cradled in his tattooed hand, his eye catching his own reflection in the mirror opposite him. He still could not believe he was actually here, and working with Weston Black. It was surreal and oddly unsettling, but an opportunity he wouldn’t have missed for the world. His agent had sealed the deal of a lifetime, and soon his face and body would be plastered on billboards across the country next to someone he had only had the opportunity to admire from afar.

The after party would not be for a few more hours, but the young model felt the need to speak to his colleague, even if it was just for a brief moment—networking, and all that. Running a hand through his brown hair, Jackson made his way over to Weston, who hadn’t been left alone since they finished, and squeezed his way through a pair of adoring MUAs. “I gotta run,” he lied. “But I’ll see you tonight?” he queried. “Great working with you today,” he grinned, his voice both friendly and self-confident.

message 4: by Deanna (last edited May 08, 2015 05:53PM) (new)

Deanna | 477 comments Weston had long since decided that he was neither homosexual, nor was he heterosexual. He was just, well, sexual; he was attracted to attractive things. It worked for the Greeks, and it most definitely worked for him. What West wasn't attracted to was cocky children who waltzed onto his set as if they were hot shit.

Enter, Jax Pierce. Gorgeous and aware of the fact, he had instantly hit a nerve. The kid had talent, and Weston couldn't deny he'd enjoyed the view, but Jax didn't have a serious bone in his ink-covered body. And this was the new rising star? Weston took his work very seriously, and he would be damned if some kid came onto his set like he owned it.

As Jax approached, West appraised him stoically, eyes lingering below for a few seconds before meeting the younger man's gaze. "The party is for us," he replied cooly, "of course you'll see me there." Blatantly ignoring the next comment, West continued, "Adeline Darcy is coming tonight. I don't think I need to tell you, but I will anyway. She is one of the biggest names in fashion right now, and she's not quick to forgive." He fixed Jax with a hard stare. "As my colleague, your actions reflect on me. Do not do anything stupid."

๖ۣۜSαᴙαh ๖ۣۜMᴄĄłłiƨʈeʀ (inked_chinadoll) What was it about models and their divaesque attitudes? Jackson only hoped that he’d never turn into such an uncharismatic bastard. Looks were everything in this business, but a personality could get you places too, as was evidenced by his growing Facebook page, one that he personally attended to. He didn’t think that Weston watched over his own—it seemed beneath him. Even so, he admired the man’s work, and he hoped to one day become as successful. “Right,” Jax laughed easily as he turned his aquamarine gaze to the blonde with glasses by Weston’s side, giving her a wink that made her blush. “I think the lack of food from today is getting to my head,” he joked, glancing back up at his coworker to see that the man was… checking him out? No way.

Jackson frowned slightly at Weston’s advice, but nodded his head nonetheless. “Don’t worry, I won’t,” he promised. But it was a party, right? And parties meant booze, and drugs, and whatever else the models wanted. He knew he was there to socialize and network, and it wasn’t like he hadn’t done it before, just not with, you know… Addison Delany. Weston had pretty much been this way throughout the shoot though, and so Jax simply brushed it off. Maybe he was just tired.

Realizing then that he was still just in his underwear, he added, “And maybe suit up.” The blonde giggled. “Alright, now I really gotta go. Later,” he finished, giving the trio a wave before turning around to head towards his changing room at a very light, casual jog.

message 6: by Deanna (last edited May 08, 2015 05:03PM) (new)

Deanna | 477 comments West arched one perfect brow at his cheeky response. Flirting with the makeup artists was something that many of the models did and something he disapproved. They were here to work, not play, and it was their job to create camera-worthy models. It took concentration. The new artist, Tiffany, he thought was her name, obviously did not grasp this.

"Leave my artists alone. They have work to do." The blonde quickly averted her gaze.

Jackson's quick reassurance did anything but that. If anything, West was more uneasy. Darcy's new line was coming out, and he wanted that job more than just about anything. In his twelve years of modelling, he'd never landed a job with the old hag, but he'd heard whispers that he was a favorite for the new line. It needed to stay that way.

The childish remark pulled a sigh from West's lips. They were models for god's sake. They'd both done nude shoots before (and though he'd never admit it, he was quite impressed with the rookie's work (view spoiler)). Nudity should not be a source of juvenile jokes any more.

He didn't even try to avert his gaze as the halfwit trotted away. He may have been a moron, but he had been blessed with high-quality ahem assets. "Don't embarrass me tonight, Pierce!" he called to his ridiculously attractive backside.

message 7: by ๖ۣۜSαᴙαh (last edited May 09, 2015 07:28AM) (new)

๖ۣۜSαᴙαh ๖ۣۜMᴄĄłłiƨʈeʀ (inked_chinadoll) ***END OF SCENE***

๖ۣۜSαᴙαh ๖ۣۜMᴄĄłłiƨʈeʀ (inked_chinadoll) In the end, Jax did not "suit up" as he had suggested that he might; instead, he chose a rather plain black T-shirt and a pair of stylish jeans (both of which had been given to him by designers, of course) to wear to the party. Showing up fashionably late, it was with little effort that he soon became a temporary distraction to the entire RSVP list. Models greeted him, and designers flocked to him, all of whom Jackson devoted a few minutes to before he headed for the bar for a drink, promising a swift return.

He had taken his girlfriend out for supper, and although she had whined and begged that he take her to the party, Jax had refused. He needed these times to promote his own career, and he couldn't do that while babysitting. Not that he didn't like Vanessa; she was just annoying at times--low self-esteem would do that to you, but he never understood why the gorgeous blonde he bedded felt that way. Now, he needed a pick-me-upper, especially if Weston Black would be scowling at him all night. The young model had decided his idol didn't like him very much, but he couldn't figure out why. Everyone else loved him; and wasn't he great at his job?

message 9: by Deanna (last edited May 09, 2015 09:33AM) (new)

Deanna | 477 comments The party was going well. He had quickly parted with his current girlfriend, Eve, who had her own networking to do, and after the customary schmoozing, thanking, complimenting, etc. of the guests there for him, Weston had finally found his target, Adeline Darcy's personal assistant. Though he wasn't as boisterous as his young coworker, West could be charming when he wanted to, and he was laying it on thick for the young, dark-haired girl. She couldn't be more than twenty, and the way she flushed every time he leaned close to murmur something in her ear gave him hope. If this easily-charmed woman had any sway with her employer, he was in.

She had just finished admiring his outfit--a clean white button down tucked into dark jeans and finished off with a silver-grey scarf tied loosely around his neck (all from Adeline's most recent collection)--when his attention was captured by a familiar tattooed figure strutting towards the bar. Damn. He was hoping the rookie would decide not to show tonight. A no-show was better than the embarrassing behavior the younger model was almost guaranteed to display. Downing the champagne in his hand, West deposited the flute on a passing tray and demanded a double whiskey, on the rocks, from the waiter. He would need something much stronger to deal with the neanderthal.

message 10: by ๖ۣۜSαᴙαh (new)

๖ۣۜSαᴙαh ๖ۣۜMᴄĄłłiƨʈeʀ (inked_chinadoll) After ordering his drink, and giving the bartender a charming smile, Jackson turned to face the room, leaning his back against the counter, surveying the crowd. He caught Weston's eye--he looked so much like a model, for a moment, Jax thought he might be working--and giving his earlier co-worker a handsome smile, he raised his glass to him in a small nod of acknowledgement before he took a sip of his drink. The girl next to West was cute, and when she noticed the tattooed model as well, Jax obliged by also giving her a smile that was equally as charming as it was boyish. Ah, he loved these kinds of parties. Beautiful people were everywhere, and--

His train of thought was cut off by a voice that addressed him, "I thought you'd never show up."

Turning to face the person who spoke, his aquamarine eyes alighted upon an immaculately dressed older woman who looked extremely well put together.

"Oh, I always planned on coming," he told her, straightening from the bar. Jax didn't recognize her, but he wasn't foolish enough to tell her so. For all he knew, she could be that designer Weston had warned him about. Alison Something. "Can I get you a drink?" he asked her, shifting his body slightly so he could catch the bartender's attention again.

message 11: by Deanna (last edited May 11, 2015 11:35AM) (new)

Deanna | 477 comments West did his best to keep his focus on his young companion, dipping low to whisper some piece of gossip he'd picked up at work, and giving her a satisfied smirk as she gasped and giggled at the irrelevant news. As the unruffled waiter returned with his drink, however, his eyes flicked back to the pest he was trying so hard to ignore. The moment their eyes met, Jax flashed him a cocky, charming smile, raising his glass, and though his expression soured momentarily, West--always the professional--raised his own, the corner of his mouth quirking up in a small, fabricated gesture of solidarity. The girl beside him tittered quietly, dazzled by the charming young man's attention, and waved, then looked back to Weston. 

Suddenly, the girl's demeanor changed drastically. "There's Adeline now," she said, perfectly calm and collected.

West's mouth went dry as he recognized the older woman who appeared in front of Jax. What on Earth was he saying to the woman? 

"I have to go to her. You should come. She's a fan of your work," the girl, Melody, said breezily, and led the way.

West didn't correct the girl and followed close behind, relaxing his face into a comfortable, mask of calm confidence. 

As they reached the pair, West smoothly took the short-tempered designer's hand in his and dropped a kiss on her wrist. "Madame," he murmured, knowing the infuriating woman expected to be called by her name only after she suggested it, every time.

Turning, he stretched a hand to jax, offering a smile reserved only for good impressions. "Jackson, glad you could make it. This ravishing creature is the one I was telling you about," he intimated, the only sign of his tension showing in the tiny dip of his brows.

message 12: by ๖ۣۜSαᴙαh (last edited May 11, 2015 12:18PM) (new)

๖ۣۜSαᴙαh ๖ۣۜMᴄĄłłiƨʈeʀ (inked_chinadoll) The woman gave Jackson an amused smile, and replied, “Just a Perrier with a splash of lemon, and a dash of cinnamon, ma chère, thank you.”

Jax shared a look with the bartender, who hid a smirk and then went off to fetch her drink. The young model did not have much time to say anything else before Weston was by his side greeting his newly arrived companion in the stuffy way that he clearly should have done. Next time. He needed to remember that.

“Oh, please,” the woman smiled as she gave the acclaimed model an approving look; if she noticed his clothing, she said nothing about it. “Just Adeline, ma chère. I trust you know Jackson Pierce?” she added, not bothering to give her assistant a glance. The girl was to remain available in case she needed her, but she was no more than furniture as far as the designer was concerned.

“As a matter of fact, we just finished a shoot together,” Jax piped in, taking a sip of his drink before he leaned his forearm on the counter, striking a relaxed pose. “Thus the celebration,” he added. So this was probably that designer Weston was keen on meeting, Jax was pretty sure of it. Sure a lot of people in this industry threw around the few French words they knew because it was considered appropriate to do so, but would anyone else be addressed as “Madame”? As far as he knew, no, so he’d behave as he had promised. So far, he was sure he was doing great.

Weston’s next statement confirmed Jax’s guess. “Of course, I wouldn’t have missed it for anything,” he assured the trio now in front of him. “I hope nothing too exciting has happened yet. Be a shame to miss it,” he grinned as Adeline tittered softly at the young man’s pizzazz.

“Clearly, not until you arrived, ma chère. And who did you work for today?” she questioned, glancing between the two models.

Sure that Weston wanted to reply, Jax said nothing.

message 13: by Deanna (last edited May 24, 2015 04:54PM) (new)

Deanna | 477 comments Weston flashed the designer a grateful smile--as if being allowed to use her name was the greatest honor he could receive. "Adeline, then. And yes, as he said, we are recent colleagues. He may be a rookie, but the kid's got talent," the model said sincerely. Darcy would find out eventually, and if she thought he was lying about another model's abilities, she would take it as a personal affront. Honesty was best with this one. 

"I'm sure he is," the woman replied, gaze sweeping the inked model.

Relaxing, West crossed his arms over his chest, looking on as his charming coworker dazzled Adeline. Maybe he'd been too hard on the kid; he hadn't done anything to embarrass either of them yet. He couldn't help a pang of childish envy, however, at the designer's comment about the party, and he suppressed a bitter look. Never mind. He hadn't been too hard on him.

When Adeline's question elicited no response from Jax, Weston swiftly picked up the conversation. "We've been working on a shoot for Cole Engall's newest line: Risk."

After a slow pull from his drink, West nonchalantly continued, "Speaking of, I've heard you've got something new coming out. I'm sure it's stunning."

"Wouldn't you like to know?" the designer answered coyly, eyeing the two as an idea slowly formed.

Cogs turning, Adeline slithered out of the spotlight, asking, "What about you boys? Any interesting plans for the future?"

message 14: by ๖ۣۜSαᴙαh (last edited May 14, 2015 12:51PM) (new)

๖ۣۜSαᴙαh ๖ۣۜMᴄĄłłiƨʈeʀ (inked_chinadoll) Was he always working? Jackson wondered as he finished his drink and then signaled the bartender for another one. Yeah, he got that his career was important, but they had just finished a job; it was time to relax and let go--at least for tonight.

At the designers query, Jax flashed her a boyish grin and replied, "Well, my agent has a few jobs he's trying to nail for me, but honestly, working for you--and with Weston--would be something I'd love to do if you'd consider it, Ms...." he paused, forgetting her last name. Shit. "I hear you have some great stuff lined up?" he added, hoping no one had noticed his slip up, though Adele's face seemed to be slightly affronted. Or maybe that was just the way she looked, like... all the time.

message 15: by Deanna (new)

Deanna | 477 comments He knew it.

He knew the knuckle-dragging fool wouldn't be able to keep up the illusion for long.

How had Jax managed to make it this far with the sorry excuse for a brain that may or may not have been housed in that gorgeous head?

Jackson's disastrous mistake made West's heart sink and his mouth run dry.The change was instant, and though Weston was, uncharacteristically, on his fourth drink, he could still feel the chill in the air. Gone was the flirty, charmed woman, and in her place stood the stiff-spined, aloof designer who could make or break a model's career. No one forgot Adeline Darcy's name. Lovely.

"I keep my work very close to myself, Mr. Pierce," the woman replied cooly. "No model gets special treatment. You'll find out when everyone else does."

Running through a mental list of the damage control he knew he'd have to do, West grabbed the younger model's arm; she would need to cool off before he tried anything.

"Madame," he murmered with a placated smile, "it has been invigorating, as always, speaking with you. Please accept my apologies. This," he said smoothly, motioning to his companion, "won't happen again. Please excuse us. Enjoy the rest of the party."

With a nod of his head, he turned and strode quickly away, disappointment of a colleague in tow.

West pulled Jackson into an empty hallway, away from the noise of the party, and dropped his arm. "What the hell was that?" he demanded. "You forgot her name?!" With a swift shove, the younger man was against the wall. "Do you have any idea how long I've been schmoozing that old coot to get that job? Longer than you've been a model, you idiot." the neurotic model hissed, pushing away from the wall and shaking his head. "I told you she's not quick to forgive. I warned you." West yanked on his scarf, suddenly burning up. The alcohol was beginning to hit him, and his temper tantrum hadn't helped. Flicking his eyes to Jax, he glared. "You'd better hope I can fix this."

message 16: by ๖ۣۜSαᴙαh (new)

๖ۣۜSαᴙαh ๖ۣۜMᴄĄłłiƨʈeʀ (inked_chinadoll) Shit, shit, shit, Jackson’s head screamed inwardly as he watched the woman’s features freeze up to accompany the icy tone she used on him. “Yeah, sure, no problem,” he replied quickly, though before he could say anything else, Weston had placed his hand on Jax’s arm and saying a quick goodbye, he obediently followed his colleague, wondering which of the two was the lesser evil at the moment.

Weston’s reaction, while not necessarily unexpected, caught Jackson off guard, and when he was slammed against the wall, his aquamarine eyes widened slightly. “Okay, relax,” he said quickly, holding out his hands as a peace offering. “It was my fuck up; she isn’t gonna withhold a job from you because of me. Don’t worry,” Jax soothed, tentatively reaching out his hand to place it on the other model’s shoulder. Naturally an affectionate man, it did not feel strange in the least to give comfort through physical touch. “You’re great,” he continued, speaking in a low voice, as if he were trying to calm a wild animal. “She’s gonna call you. Who wouldn’t?” he reasoned. “She’ll need a model, and she isn’t gonna let something so stupid stand in the way of her future success as well. Now,” Jackson added when Weston said nothing, “why don’t I get you a drink, and I’ll keep you company out on the terrace while we let her cool off?” Though really, Jax thought that Weston needed the time alone too. “Or I’ll leave you alone and go back inside myself,” he suggested as well. “Whatever you want,” he smiled then, exuding boyish charm.

message 17: by Deanna (new)

Deanna | 477 comments As the alcohol settled into Weston's veins, his mind cleared slightly, long enough to know he should brush the ignorant man's hand away. He shouldn't enjoy it. But he did. The kid was infuriating, but a tiny part of the model's uninhibited mind surfaced long enough to admit that a very tiny part of him kind of liked the rookie. He was a moron, yes, but he was a charming moron. And there was no denying Jackson was attractive on a level that surpassed the crowds even they ran in.

West was shaken from his reverie as Jax's attempts to console him became more and more ludicrous. He didn't get it.. The soft buzz of alcohol had begun to calm his temper, but he had to make him see; both of their careers were on the line, not just Jackson's. He grasped both of his coworker's shoulders. "Jackson, you have to understand. Adeline Darcy runs this scene right now, and she's an indiscriminate bitch. If you look at her wrong after shaking hands with the sister of the assistant of another model, she may just decide that it's that poor random asshole's fault." He locked gazes with the kid, denim eyes begging him to understand. "You have to pay more attention. I know you think your self-manned Facebook page is going to get you into the big leagues, but this career is as much about impressing the right people as it is being attractive. You've got one down. The other needs work."

The daunting task ahead of Weston weighed heavy on his mind, and Jax's offer fell on secretly grateful ears. Breathing a sigh of irritation, he replied, "make it something strong." He'd already had more than his usual limit; may as well enjoy himself before one hell of a cleanup began.

The charming smile irritated him more, but he quickly called, "and, yes, you should keep me company." He wasn't letting the rookie out of his sight. One disaster was enough for Weston.

Making his way out onto a quiet terrace, West unwound the scarf he wore and draped it loosely over his shoulders. Cool night air danced across his skin, chilling his fiery temper as he bent over the railing and stared into the sky.


Adeline had migrated toward another group of particular favorites when she caught sight of the young, ink-covered Jax Pierce making his way to the bar. As he caught her eye, she fixed the boy with a cold stare and quickly turned away, focusing her attention on the less attractive model next to her.

She liked the idiot; he entertained her. And she would have Weston Black for her next line. She'd created it for him, after all.

A sadistic smile found its way onto the designer's face. Let them think they were in trouble for a while. There was nothing the power-hungry woman enjoyed more than groveling.

message 18: by ๖ۣۜSαᴙαh (new)

๖ۣۜSαᴙαh ๖ۣۜMᴄĄłłiƨʈeʀ (inked_chinadoll) The desperation in Weston’s voice coupled with his urging words did indeed sink into Jackson’s head; pretty though he may be, he was, contrary to some belief, not an idiot, and so it was with a seemingly heavy heart and a somber expression that Jax sighed in understanding. “I fucked up,” he nodded solemnly, hoping his coworker would buy his visible remorse. It wasn’t that he didn’t believe Weston—he was sure that Allison would make his life more difficult, but Jackson was… well, Jax, and life had always been incredibly easy for him, and he had never really put a lot of effort into getting places, yet, here he was: standing beside one of the greatest models of their time after having just done a shoot with him. He’d be fine. Delaney wasn’t the only cat in town; there were plenty of others who had sway, and if they didn’t, well, he’d move. To Paris or Madrid, maybe. L.A. could suck it.

At Weston’s agreement for another drink, Jax gave him a wink, and said quickly, “You got it,” before pulling away from their somewhat tight stance to jog off back into the bar for those strong drinks. He caught sight of Adele immediately when he reentered the now buzzing crowd of party people, and giving her a polite nod, he then headed for the bar. Ordering a double gin and tonic (it seemed like something pristine Weston Black would drink), and a rum and coke for himself—triple—Jax thanked the waiter and proceeded back outside. He found the other model leaning against the railing, his form silhouetted against the skyline of L.A., and he approached him silently. “Here you go,” he said, handing Weston his drink.

After a moment or two of silence, he asked the man conversationally, “So, tell me: who does manage your Facebook page? ‘Cause I can’t seem to find anyone who wants to… do mine,” he joked, his aquamarine eyes sparkling with mirth as he tried to keep a straight face.

message 19: by Deanna (last edited May 25, 2015 01:44PM) (new)

Deanna | 477 comments West eyed the cheeky bastard's suddenly somber face suspiciously. That had been easy enough. Though not quite convinced, he nodded curtly. Maybe he had gotten through to him. Surely all that talent came with some intelligence.

At Jackson's saucy wink, Weston couldn't help an annoyed huff. The rookie had just fucked up, epically. Did nothing phase him? As he stared at the city stretching before him West contemplated his lengthy career. He could hardly remember what it felt like to be that fresh; he'd been only fourteen, after all. Though the model had never been as charismatic or upbeat as his charming colleague, he had, at one time, been as carefree. Growing up in L.A. had given him the opportunity to begin his career at a young age without his parents being required to uproot their lives. The first three years of West's career had been easy and exciting. He'd always been a beautiful--and quite vain--boy, making him a natural, but he never truly took his job seriously. It wasn't until tragedy struck the young model's life at seventeen, that he was forced to begin taking his work seriously. Weston was roused from his depressing train of thought by a familiar inky hand placing a clear drink in his hand.

Tossing half the drink back in one swallow, he turned to his colleague, replying, "I have a team of Social Media experts who--" but quickly stopped when he noticed Jax's poor attempt at a serious expression. "You're an ass," the model said flatly, trying to stop the smile trying to surface. The liquor was making his mind a bit fuzzy. Was it affecting his companion this much? Maybe West had become a lightweight in the last few years. He'd, for the most part, stopped drinking, and now it was apparent that he was out of practice.

The thought of the last post on his "professionally" manned page made the unfamiliar grin widen. "Did you see the shit they came up with after the shoot?" he asked his tattooed colleague incredulously. "'Had a great shoot today with @coleengallfashion. Let's get risky!' Let's get risky?! What the fuck." With a laugh he hadn't notice leave his lips, the model finished gulping down the rest of his drink, and muttered, "you should have brought the whole bottle. I don't plan on remembering the rest of the night."

message 20: by ๖ۣۜSαᴙαh (new)

๖ۣۜSαᴙαh ๖ۣۜMᴄĄłłiƨʈeʀ (inked_chinadoll) Jax laughed at Weston’s insult, and keeping the grin on his face, he shrugged. “Maybe. But it’s just payback, to show you how it feels,” he told him honestly, yet good-naturedly. It didn’t really bother Jackson that his colleague did not respect him—yet. He knew it would come; it always did. The effects of alcohol wasn’t hurting either; the model always felt far smoother than he might have actually been when he was drinking. “And besides: it made you smile,” he added smugly, joining him by leaning on the railing himself.

Chuckling at the other model’s story, Jax shook his head. “Nah, I haven’t looked yet, but yeah. I get tagged in that bullshit all the time. Though I better not right now ‘cause I might post something stupid. Don’t want you to take another bullet for me,” he said to Weston as he sliced a glance his way. “I can always go get a refill, but… if you’re in the mood to live a little, I’ve got other stuff on me,” he told the other man, eluding to the narcotics he’d purchased earlier on today. “Lets. Get risky,” he suggested with a wag of his dark brows. Jax didn’t always get high, but every once in a while when he had a few days’ break, and no immediate responsibilities, he liked to let loose—though he had a strict list of shit he would never touch. He wasn’t a junkie, just an open-minded partygoer. From the looks of Weston’s piercing visage, the serious model was starting to finally loosen up, and Jackson wasn’t going to let this opportunity to bond with his idol pass him by. That’s right: he knew how to network too; he just had different methods.

message 21: by Deanna (new)

Deanna | 477 comments Weston shook his head in wonder at the model beside him. No one talked to him like that. Though the spoiled veteran knew most considered him an entitled prick, it had been a long time since he'd met anyone ballsy enough to voice the sentiment, especially a rookie trying to earn his respect. Was it working?

"Good plan," he replied with a half-hearted glare. "I've got enough of a mess to clean up thanks to you." The accusation came out softer than West had hoped as his words slurred lightly. He just couldn't bring himself to be annoyed at the moment.

Weston eyed his colleague warily. The model didn't mind drugs; he'd tripped his way through the first few years of his career and enjoyed the shit out of it. He hesitated. One night wouldn't hurt, would it?

With a roll of his eyes at the horrible joke, he quirked a brow, but as Jax grinned suggestively, the older model let out a sigh of defeat. "Fuck it," he conceded. "What do you have?"

message 22: by ๖ۣۜSαᴙαh (last edited May 28, 2015 07:27AM) (new)

๖ۣۜSαᴙαh ๖ۣۜMᴄĄłłiƨʈeʀ (inked_chinadoll) "Molly," Jax replied, referring to the MDMA in his pocket. "I was gonna wait until after this party to take it with peeps who may have wanted to do something while the sun was still down, but now seems like a too time too," he told Weston, taking a sip of his drink. "It's the powdered stuff, so it's pretty strong. Think you can handle it?" he queried, glancing up at the scowling model. It was meant as a light taunt, but Jackson didn't see it as peer pressure. Weston would either say "yes" or "no" and it wouldn't change his opinion of him--too much. "We can mix it in my drink and then share it," he suggested, noticing that his colleague had nothing left in his empty glass.

message 23: by Deanna (new)

Deanna | 477 comments Weston cast a furtive glance around them, as if there could be someone hiding in the nonexistent shadows of the small, relatively open space. The last thing he needed was for Eve to find out he was taking. His straight-laced, business-minded girlfriend would shit, and she was so annoying when she was mad. Satisfied with his search, the model returned his attention to his tattooed companion in time to hear a cocky, "Think you can handle it?" His scowl deepened.

Challenge accepted.

Turning to face Jax, West crossed his arms over his chest, only wavering slightly on his feet. "What're you waiting for, Rookie? Get mixing."

message 24: by ๖ۣۜSαᴙαh (new)

๖ۣۜSαᴙαh ๖ۣۜMᴄĄłłiƨʈeʀ (inked_chinadoll) Jackson’s handsome grin turned charmingly cocky as he reached into his back pocket to retrieve the goods and walking over to the reclining, patio chairs that sandwiched a small glass table, he placed his drink down on it, and poured the powder into the alcohol. The stuff didn’t dilute properly, but he immersed his finger into it anyway to give it a swirl before licking off the excess liquid.. A+ for effort, right? Tilting his head at Weston who looked slightly unsteady on his feet, he motioned for his coworker to join him as he held the drink to his lips and gauging where the half mark would be for the liquid, Jax gulped down his share before handing it to West. “Bottoms up,” he gasped, the alcohol burning down his throat into his stomach. He had forgotten that it was a triple.

message 25: by Deanna (new)

Deanna | 477 comments Resigned to his challenge, Weston shoved off the rest of his quickly fading doubts, eyeing the younger model as he sauntered away to prepare their drink. The veteran's mouth went dry as he watched Jackson's tattooed finger dip into the drink to give it a mix before lifting to his mouth to be licked clean. Fuck.

Doing his best to achieve his normal, unaffected air, West made his way to the seat, lowering himself into it as Jax knocked back half of the drink. Accepting his share, the model kept his gaze trained on his colleague as he tossed the amber liquid back, choking lightly at the burn.

With the alcohol numbing his senses, Weston sat back in his chair and laced his hands behind his head to wait, a lazy, unfamiliar smile softening his pinched features as his eyes wandered his companion's form. "So, why LA?"

message 26: by ๖ۣۜSαᴙαh (last edited Jun 01, 2015 08:02AM) (new)

๖ۣۜSαᴙαh ๖ۣۜMᴄĄłłiƨʈeʀ (inked_chinadoll) Grinning boyishly at Weston’s reaction—not that his had been any better—at the bitterly laced alcoholic beverage, Jackson watched as Weston reclined himself along the long seat, and remaining in his seated position beside the other man's hip, he laced his fingers together as he remained in comfortable silence. His co-worker’s question brought a small smirk to his lips, and he replied, “Work brought me here. I was actually scouted in Madrid. Doin’ some bartending on a beach club at the time. Didn’t really know what I wanted to do with my life, and when I was ‘discovered’, L.A. just sort of happened,” he explained. “Yourself? Born and raised here if I remember correctly from 'your' Facebook page,” he grinned then, remembering the stuffy, overly professional bio that was on Weston Black’s About section. Everything about the man was just so perfect; no wonder so many were awed by him, and found it hard to compete. He definitely scored more points in Jax’s book now though that he had agreed to drink molly, proving he wasn't a total square.

message 27: by Deanna (last edited Jun 22, 2015 02:58PM) (new)

Deanna | 477 comments The veteran was silent for a moment, lost in thought. "Sounds exciting," he finally replied, his smile coming easier as the minutes ticked on. "When I was there on a shoot a few years back, I didn't get to experience much of real Madrid." With a shrug, he pulled his hands from behind his head staring at the sky and his hands came to lay on his stomach. "It was all big name clubs and VIP lists for me. I'd love to go back for pleasure rather than business."

With a laugh, he shook his head at his colleague's derisive question. "That's about the only thing in that bullwhip bio that's actually true. The 'team' says it makes me look better, so I go with it." He grinned at Jax next to him and lightly tapped the knee next to his hip, feeling easier around the cocky model as the drug began to kick in. "So, what do you think of the job? Really. Everything you hoped for?"

message 28: by ๖ۣۜSαᴙαh (new)

๖ۣۜSαᴙαh ๖ۣۜMᴄĄłłiƨʈeʀ (inked_chinadoll) “Oh, man, you gotta go back then,” Jackson insisted, running his tattooed hand through his hair. “I mean aside from the women and the food, the nightlife—the real nightlife—is something else. People are so free and friendly there, and they love tourists,” he told his coworker. Picking up the glass to take a sip of the drink, he realized it was empty and placed it down with slight disappointment. “Get outta here, the only thing?” Jax queried with appall. “And so what? Then you just kinda have to tell people the truth if you get close to them?” he asked, realizing then that Weston probably didn’t have a lot of close friends. It was then that he wondered if the man was lonely. Did he have a girlfriend? Thinking about his own blank About section then, the model realized that he should probably fill that out, but every time he went to do it, only jokes came to mind. Things like “activities: tipping cows” and such. Maybe his colleague was right: he did need to take his career more seriously. “It’s great,” Jax smiled easily, shifting his body automatically to face Weston head on when the man nudged him. The thing about molly: physical contact was something you craved. “I mean, it’s work, but all in all, it’s fun. I get to meet awesome people every day,” he grinned then, and though his tone was sarcastic, his turquoise eyes sparkled with mirth as he gave Weston a cheeky one over.

message 29: by Deanna (new)

Deanna | 477 comments "I'm sold," he joked with a wink. "Sex, food, and clubbing? Who could resist?" But the model's face became thoughtful as he continued. "I'm actually a closet culture nerd," he whispered theatrically. "But that's not the type of thing that looks good on a bio. Interests that actually give me a personality might hurt my 'image.'" With the last word, West pulled out the air quotes and a smirk. "Well, I think they might have gotten the length of my career right. In their defense, it's hard to fabricate such a perfect career. They did a pretty good job, I'd say." He shrugged, expression nonchalant. "Who said anything about getting close?" he asked and dropped the subject, hoping the carefree man across from him would take the hint that the subject was closed. He did take the hint, and the next thing Weston knew, he was being cheekily insulted again by the rookie, and this time, he decided it was working. Most people were too afraid to induce a temper tantrum to joke with him about his less than savory personality. It was refreshing, and quite honestly, turning him on more than it should have. The close proximity didn't hurt either. Leaning forward, the model let a slow smirk stretch his mouth as he watched his companion's lazy appraisal. "Don't be so quick to judge, rookie. I can be awesome when I want to be."

message 30: by ๖ۣۜSαᴙαh (last edited Aug 10, 2015 07:50PM) (new)

๖ۣۜSαᴙαh ๖ۣۜMᴄĄłłiƨʈeʀ (inked_chinadoll) "I'm still trying to picture 'you' and 'nerd' in the same sentence, and I'm having a hard time wrapping my mind around it," Jackson laughed as he shook his head. He didn't prod though. Instead, he allowed West to continue his self praise (even when it wasn't about how awesome he was, it somehow was). But Jax didn't mind. Everyone and their ego had an ego in the modelling industry, and it wasn't just Addison Delaney.

"Really," Jax drawled with an obviously over exaggerated reply of disbelief after his coworker's bold claim. "And here I thought you were awesome already," he teased, leaning in slightly closer, the molly making him crave body contact. "Tell me how much more awesome you can be... Weston," the tattooed devil grinned as his aquamarine eyes sparkled with mischief.

message 31: by Deanna (new)

Deanna | 477 comments He didn't know specifically when it happened, but he knew it had. West was definitely rolling now, and it was great. Everything was great. Better than great. He wanted to smile and he wasn't sure why.

The cocky model across from him goaded him on, digging himself into a hole Weston wasn't sure the rookie was ready to be in. The hand that had so lightly tapped his companion's knee before found the jean-clad leg again, and he reveled in the scrape of the denim on his palm and the hard muscle underneath. Beckoning the him forward, he angled for the younger man's ear, offering a quiet, "why don't I show you?" West was so close his lips brushed the skin of his colleague's ear when he spoke, the contact sending tiny chills of pleasure down his spine with every feathery touch, and he grabbed the lobe between two set of perfect teeth, pulling seductively. Somewhere in the back of his brain, he knew this was a bad idea. And that made it, if possible, even hotter.

message 32: by ๖ۣۜSαᴙαh (last edited Aug 13, 2015 05:44AM) (new)

๖ۣۜSαᴙαh ๖ۣۜMᴄĄłłiƨʈeʀ (inked_chinadoll) Jax wasn't a stranger to MDMA, nor was he a stranger to being hit on--it happened more often than not (one of the many things his current girlfriend had an issue with, actually)--but something about the way that Weston's hand clasped his muscled thigh seemed somewhat different. Like he was almost out of his league or something. Nah.... That had to be the buzz talking. His mouth opened to ask the question, "Show me what?" but then West had his earlobe in between his teeth, and Jackson was tripping so hard that all he could do was enjoy the sensations now flooding his system. Tilting his head to give the other model easier access, he smiled to himself, revelling in the way the drug flowed through his system as it heightened his senses. The music coming from the party was suddenly loud enough for him to feel the bass thumping through his veins, the increase of the blood circulating through his streams strong enough to remind him how alive he was. He could feel his hands--he could feel Weston's hands--on his body, and he suddenly wanted to feel more. More, his mind screamed, though he had a hard time finding the words.

Somewhere in the back of his mind he congratulated himself on having such a great idea.

message 33: by Deanna (new)

Deanna | 477 comments That tiny movement, the tilt of his head to reveal more of his inked skin was all the invitation Weston needed. The last of his reasonable thoughts having long-since fled, he found himself acting solely on what felt good, consequences be damned, and this? This felt good. The Molly had every nerve in his body standing at attention, ready to feel more, begging for it. His other hand quickly found Jax's neck and cupped it lightly, buzzing tingles erupting everywhere skin came into contact with skin. With one more tug of the lobe, he released it, pressing his hot mouth to the sensitive flesh just below. It tasted like salt and heat and music.

West smirked against his colleague's neck in the sudden silence. Now it was time to see what the rookie was really made of.

message 34: by ๖ۣۜSαᴙαh (new)

๖ۣۜSαᴙαh ๖ۣۜMᴄĄłłiƨʈeʀ (inked_chinadoll) It was hard to say whether or not Weston was attracted to Jackson because of the drugs, or if it were only the drugs “talking”, but the young model knew that the molly had certainly done its job to release the veteran’s inhibitions. Jackson had never defined himself as bisexual, and his intention when offering to share his goods hadn’t been to trick West either; he simply wanted to have good time, no matter how that might happen. And clearly, making out seemed to be what classified as a good time for West. The warmth of his co-worker’s tongue and lips parted Jax’s as he closed his eyes, allowing himself to be swallowed up with the sensations that were overwhelming his nerves. He could feel his own pulse against West’s mouth, keeping beat with the music that was still growing louder. His fingertips tingled with the desire to touch, and so he indulged himself by raising one hand to cup it over the other man’s, the feeling of his skin making his own thrum. Tilting his head down even more, Jax waited for the feeling of a warm mouth to travel down its expanse as his mind swirled with his increasing buzz.

message 35: by Deanna (new)

Deanna | 477 comments Why didn't he do this more often? He missed it, the thrill of seduction, the feeling that he could convince anyone to do anything with him. Before Eve, West had been well known for his sexual encounters. Tabloids loved him, ex-lovers hated him, and his publicity sky-rocketed.

But then he met Eve, and it had been love . . . at first. By the time he was over it, his publicists had decided that the better move would be to stay with the woman. They looked good together and fed well off of each others' reputations. No price was too high to stay on top, so he had agreed, thus beginning his life of monogamy. There had been a few cleverly-placed scandals, planned affairs, scripted fights, and several staged break-ups--just to keep the public interested--but the thrill was gone.

And now it was back. The vet massaged his way up Jax's leg until he reached his hip and hooked his hand around his waist, fingers searching for the edge of his shirt. His mouth made its way down, deliberately, painfully slow, and paused to slide his tongue along the dip of the flushed collarbone before making his way back up. Had Jackson Pierce ever been with a man in any capacity before? The charming model could have anyone he wanted, but the way he reacted, not uncomfortable, but not overly keen to take the lead, made him wonder.

message 36: by ๖ۣۜSαᴙαh (new)

๖ۣۜSαᴙαh ๖ۣۜMᴄĄłłiƨʈeʀ (inked_chinadoll) His coworker's mouth was hot and wet against his own flushed flesh, and it made him shiver despite the warmth of the L.A. night. Feeling Weston's hand reaching for the hem of his shirt, Jackson grinned and arched his back slightly, leaning his washboard abs into his make out partner's touch. He wanted to feel skin beneath his own fingers too, one of his hands satiated with West's digits between his own, but it wasn't enough.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, he was aware that the song "Animals" by Martin Garrix was playing from inside the loft, and it made him want to act like one. With his free hand, he weaved his fingers through West's luscious hair (his treatment must have cost him hundreds), and giving his head a hard tug upwards, Jax brought the other man's mouth towards his and kissed him roughly. He could taste his own skin on West's tongue, and it made him grin again.

message 37: by Deanna (last edited Aug 18, 2015 01:10PM) (new)

Deanna | 477 comments Finally locating the hem of the soft material, West slipped his hand underneath, breath quickening at the contact. He flattened his palm against the hard, ridged surface of his stomach as Jax arched closer, skin tightening further over the muscled expanse of hot skin.

At some point as his mouth ascended, fingers found his hair. If anything, the pain in his scalp excited Weston more. Chills erupted on his skin at the sharp sensation, and he groaned into his mouth as they came together in a smoldering kiss. Jackson's smooth lips and straight teeth were fierce and insistent as he held West's face securely against his. Suddenly the thin t-shirt stretched across the model's chest was too much. He wanted to explore more of the inky skin he'd had a peek of at the shoot. With deft hands, West tugged up on the hem of the garment.

message 38: by ๖ۣۜSαᴙαh (new)

๖ۣۜSαᴙαh ๖ۣۜMᴄĄłłiƨʈeʀ (inked_chinadoll) When the felt the hem of his shirt being pulled on somewhat urgently, Jax groaned against Weston’s lips, though he did pull away so that the other model could slip his shirt off of him. He completely understood what his co-worker was feeling—he just wanted to feel. It wasn’t so much about being aroused, or sex, or any of that. It had more to do with the idea of being able to taste each other with their hands as well as their tongues. Taste was in control here, not hormones. “You can trace them if you want,” Jax grinned as if he’d read West’s mind, his aquamarine pupils dilated fully, his vision feeling as much as his other senses were doing. Without waiting for an answer, he leaned in again to kiss Weston, this time in a softer, more sensual way, exploring the feeling of skin on skin, lips against others, and tongues swirling. He could taste Weston’s pulse. Or was that his own? Did it matter? Nothing mattered. What song was playing now? Did that matter?

Jackson grinned.

Nope, none of it mattered.

message 39: by Deanna (new)

Deanna | 477 comments Sensations overwhelmed Weston, and he whimpered quietly as the hot mouth against his broke away, only to be distracted by the newly exposed inky canvas before him and the offer from the man across from him. Trace them?

Oh, he wanted.

In his altered state, the tattoos seemed sharp and smooth and alive. His fingers moved to the flesh before him, starting at the shoulders and brushing line after line of ink until Jackson found his mouth once more. This kiss was slow, luxurious. Rather than frantic clashing of mouths, they melded together, moving in sync until Weston wasn't sure where his skin ended and Jax's began.

With gentle pressure, he pushed his coworker backward onto the reclining seat and straddled his hips. He took his time, letting his hands and eyes and mouth wander, unhurried along Jackson's torso, letting every heightened sense experience the pleasure of the warm body beneath him. He smiled indulgently at the reaction as his thumb brushed along the other model's sensitive hip-bone.

message 40: by ๖ۣۜSαᴙαh (new)

๖ۣۜSαᴙαh ๖ۣۜMᴄĄłłiƨʈeʀ (inked_chinadoll) He didn't quite know when it happened, but one minute he was seated and the next he was lying on his back on one of the deck chairs. And why was he topless? Oh yeah, West had removed his shirt so he could trace his tats. That had happened how long ago? It was hard to focus on the time because of how distorted it became when you were high.

Sighing, Jax ground his pelvis up in reaction to his coworker's caress, thinking that it felt fucking great. Skin against skin was meant to happen. It just made so much sense. His fingers came up to weave their way through Weston's soft hair, and giving the tresses a somewhat forceful tug for no reason other than that he wanted to, Jackson tilted his own head up so that his vision found the stars above him. Goddamn, they were beautiful. And bright. So, so bright. He kind of wanted to reach up and touch them. The constellations made his vision blur, kaleidoscoping lighting together to create various colours for him to see.

message 41: by Deanna (new)

Deanna | 477 comments The bucking hips made him want to do it again, and he made his way toward Jackson's hips with his mouth, tasting every writhing tattoo on his way down. And suddenly, hands were in his hair again, pulling on his scalp and drawing something like a growl from West. Rather than lips or tongue, he let his teeth graze and nip the skin stretched across one sensitive hip bone, biting a little harder as the hand gave another tug on his hair.

He could hear it every time the younger model pulled his hair, the swish of fingers brushing through the locks, the dull thunk as a fistful of strands reached the tautest point and was released. In fact, he could hear everything. The stars were singing a sweet, chirping melody which melded in with the drip and tinkle of the ice cubes as they slowly melted on the table next to them.

Temporarily bored with his current endeavor, Weston moved back up, slowly unbuttoning his own shirt as he went.


Was Jax paying attention to . . . the stars?

No. That couldn't be right.

His last button popped open as his sultry visage appeared above Jackson's head, slipping his own fingers into his coworker's locks and pulling his face closer. They shared a tense breath before he connected their mouths again, pressing their torsos together.

West wanted the attention. And he was used to getting what he wanted.

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