dreamlikenewyork | Jul. 11th, 2015

Jul. 11th, 2015

Who: Tristan Hewitt and Rhett George
What: Duty calls
Where: Rooftop Garden Party, NYC
When: Friday evening

Tristan had his own jam-packed schedule of business meetings and functions he had to attend to. However, sometimes he had to step up as a representative for the magazine when Gen or Paris, or both, weren't able to attend functions that the magazine needed a figurehead to appear at. These were usually the high profile fashion functions where it would be abhorrent that FABULOUS wasn't appearing. Gen was out of the country in Australia with her family, and at the last minute, Paris had gone down heavily with a nasty bout of food poisoning (which could well end in a catering company getting sued into oblivion, if what Mikey was saying was anything to go by). Tristan agreed to attend this important function where some new fashion collections were on showcase. He wasn't particularly impressed with the product, but when he was here in his Fashion Director shoes, he would never say that out loud.

He sipped from his glass of champagne that was just offered to him by a white-coat waiter. He had arrived late, on account of the fact that Paris pulling out was a last minute thing. Generally, Tristan would drag Presley along to some of these things where he didn't have much of a choice but to do his job, but his best friend was on the other side of the world too. When he was approached by some investors to make small talk, he gave them his smooth smile, and entered into conversation. He couldn't believe he had given up his weekend in Fire Island for this. He waited the polite amount of time, and extricated him from that conversation too, moving inside to the where collection pieces on display to pretend he was thoroughly analysing them.

breakthesilence

Of all the places to have a complete tantrum meltdown, he picks the middle of a busy grocery store.

foreverfabulous

Paris had this Skype date set up with Gen for days now, and he would be fucked if he missed it, no matter how incapacitated he was.

He put a pillow on his lap and set his laptop on, hitting the button to connect the call. She better pick up, or she would be on the rude end of some silent treatment by the time she got home.

aussielawyer

Who: Mark Campbell and Gen Hart
What: "We belong together"
Where: On Sydney Harbour
When: Friday night

There was no doubt about the fact that Mark's favourite thing to be was a father. He thought he had become a pretty fucking good one too, despite starting out really shit at it. Second only to that was being a brother, and that was equal to being a son... and a husband. He had been pretty ones of all those things at different points in his life, and he wasn't proud of those times. He never thought marriage was something he could make work. He and Ali had been engaged in the past, but he had been so led by his cock, that he screwed everything up. He had been caught up in being a player, and he was every bit what his reputation said he was.

Things had changed. Things had changed completely. It was a little piece of irony that his children had been products of said player life, which he had completely left behind in favour of wanting to make his accidental drunken Vegas marriage to Gen work and be the best fucking dad he could manage to be, no matter what it took. He really had come a long way. He might've fallen off the alcoholic wagon recently when he hadn't been able to cope learning all the details of what happened to Justin when he was sexually abused as a child, but he hadn't fallen off the marriage wagon. Despite his history of manwhoreness, he had never wanted to cheat. Nothing came close. That Mark was gone, and he was proud of himself for what his life had evolved into.

But then there was Justin. He might be mentally ill, but fuck was that kid sharp as a tack. He had inherited Mark's knack for being cluey and on the ball. He had right put Mark in his place, questioning how his marriage vows could count if he didn't remember them. The kid had a very valid point. Mark and Gen had contemplated the idea of having another wedding, but it never eventuated into anything before life snowballed on them again. The baby thing got in the way, then Justin fell ill again and faced his first hospitalisation in a mental unit. The court case came, and it stripped Justin's mother of her parental rights, and Mark took it the full distance and had her thrown in prison for child abuse and neglect.

Justin never failed to surprise Mark with his blunt observation. He was glad his kid was like that, because he would never let anyone treat him like a doormat when he felt passionate enough about something. And apparently having his parents properly married, in the right way, was something he was passionate about. But Mark couldn't deny he was already thinking about it. He was slightly a couple of steps ahead of Justin's thought process. Justin just succeeded in giving him the right nudge to get his finger out and stop letting everything else get in the way.

He had left for the Darling Harbour to meet an old school friend for lunch. Gen knew that had been planned, and she was going to spend the afternoon shopping with Justin. He wanted to climb the Sydney Harbour Bridge, but Mark was absolutely emphatically opposed to that, because it was open-air and Justin could take a flying leap off it if he was struck with the urge up there. The compromised they settled for was going up Sydney Tower, where the windows were closed in and no one could jump off anything. As evening approached, Mark sent Justin a text and told him to let Gen know he had been tied up, and asked if she could meet him at the place they were going to have dinner together. It was a private function room right on Sydney Harbour, with huge windows that overlooked the Bridge and the Opera House and a private balcony (often used for intimate wedding functions). Gen was under the guise it was just another restaurant. That wouldn't do for what Mark had planned.

Now he was waiting for her to arrive, where she would be escorted to the room. His phone rang, and it was the doorman alerting him that Gen was being shown up. Just as the door was opened, We Belong by Pat Benatar starting to play. The room was lit very dimly and candles were lit all around. Mark was standing there in a suit that probably cost more than some people's cars and he smiled, waiting for her to realise this wasn't just another restaurant, and they were completely alone.