fivethreestrawberryblonde | open rp post ❧

[ The upside to having Serena van der Woodsen as an older sister is that, well, she's a pretty good sister. The downside? Eric never hesitates to agree to get her coffee. Which always, for some reason, results in him getting coffee for everybody.

So here he is, biting at his lip in concentration while trying to balance too many too large cups in his arms as he turns away from the counter. Not exactly watching where he's going, either. He's concentrating too hard on not spilling things. ]

[it's for Eric's own good that he doesn't accidentally run into Lydia. She's very good on her feet - elegant, graceful, and capable of dodging virtually anyone, given enough warning - but these heels are brand-new, and not completely broken in yet. Not to mention she would just rather not, if she can help it.

[She just manages to sidestep Eric on her way up to the counter, pursing her mouth in a disapproving sort of fashion.]

They make trays for a reason. [and it's his own fault for not grabbing one. Or so says her expression of slight amusement mingled with 'wow, you're sort of slow on the uptake here'. Then she flicks strawberry blonde hair back over her shoulder and rattles off a quick order to the barista.] -And a tray for him, before he kills himself or some other passer-by.

[ He grimaces briefly. Okay, so he should've thought of that. But it wasn't like he had very far to go; the hotel was right around the corner. Thankfully, he's very used to Blair and her snottiness, so he doesn't even bat an eyelash at Lydia's words. ]

Sorry. [ It's a sincere apology, really. He is sorry for almost running into her. He spent enough time with Serena (and his mother, and Jenny, and Blair) to know her outfit as designer and expensive and hot coffee all over it? That would suck.

He's about to walk away when she speaks again. He pauses, glancing over his shoulder at her. ] Uh. Thanks.

You're welcome. [and since she's waiting for her drink? Lydia will even help out a little. She is the master of rearranging cups, taking them delicately from his hands with a minute little smile and slotting them into the tray until lo and behold, he can actually carry them without threat of dumping them everywhere.]

I'm guessing you're some kind of assistant or lackey. Unpaid intern? Coffee bitch? [she eyes him a little, a quick once-over. Gay, she's pretty sure. A shame, that. And here, she was hoping to start forgetting about Jackson with a nice distraction in her hotel room bed.] I'm going to go with coffee bitch.

[ He allows her to help, his smile eternally grateful. This is New York; most people would've simply scowled and told him to watch where he was going. That was a response he was used to. Kindness? Not so much. Especially not on the Upper East Side.

He lets out a small, good-natured laugh. ] Little brother, actually. [ He holds the tray in both hands, happy that he's no longer at risk of pouring coffee all over himself. ] My sister asked me to get her some coffee since she's kind of busy right now. But then everybody decided they needed coffee and I sort of just got stuck with it.

[good thing Lydia's from small town California instead of New York. As much as the city calls to her, she's a small town girl at heart, and there's something to be said for that. Kill them with kindness, isn't that what they say?]

Close enough. [he gets another little smile from her, slightly coy, and a little bit flirty. She's now ninety percent sure he's gay, but maybe he has cute friends.] That's what little brothers are for, though. Taking care of their big sister's needs when she's too busy to do it herself. And in the case of the only child, that's what boyfriends are for.

[the barista calls for her, and Lydia bounces over to retrieve her drink, satisfied that this place will get her patronage for the duration of her vacation.]

How far are you going?

[ Wow, she really is ridiculously like Blair. Except maybe a tad bit less bitchy. Plus, he sort of doubted Blair actually got her own coffee.

He... doesn't actually have many friends, truth be told. But a couple of his step-siblings are pretty cute? And single, as far as he knows. ] Really? I thought little brothers were supposed to listen to their sister's phone conversations and tattle on them to Mom when they did something wrong. [ Not that he ever really did that. (Except the phone thing. He did do that.) It's always been said that he's wise beyond his years. ]

Uh, just around the block. I live at the Milan.

[step-siblings are more than good enough, providing they are, in fact, single.]

Maybe. I wouldn't know - I don't have one. [she gives him a face that suggests if she knew for certain, she would have said so, and there wouldn't be that little thread of doubt to her words. Hence the mention of boyfriends. Except she doesn't have one of those right now either - clearly that's why she's here, getting her own coffee when Jackson could have been getting it for her instead.]

I'm going that direction. You can keep me company until the Milan.

[ Oh, there's also Nate. He guesses Nate's his friend. And he's pretty sure he's single. Maybe. ]

I guess you're sort of lucky. Siblings aren't always the best. [ He should know. He has four of them now. And while they're pretty cool most of the time? He's lost count of the amount of times he's wanted smother Jenny or Chuck in their sleep.

He looks at her a second, then shrugs and nods. ] Okay. [ He doesn't mind the company, at least. Balancing the tray of drinks on one hand, he moves out to open the door and hold it for her. ]

[time to ask around.]

Mm. [she's pretty sure she would prefer the company of a sibling she wanted to smother in their sleep over a mother who ignores her almost constantly. But that's neither here nor there, and her smile remains plastered on all the same.

[She strides through the door with a certain sort of practiced elegance that was out of place back home, and much more normal here; she doesn't stand out here. She's surprisingly all right with that. Eric earns himself a little smile as she passes him.] Now think of how hard that would have been if I hadn't gotten you that tray.

[ Well, he sort of had both for a while. Up until his attempted suicide, his mother wasn't very attentive. It took him trying to kill himself for her to start paying attention. Now, his relationship with his mom is pretty damn strong. But for those first fourteen years? Not so much.

A smile is given to her in return as he steps out, letting the door fall shut behind him. ] I probably wouldn't have been able to get out the door at all. It looks like I'm forever in your debt. [ He adjusts the tray in his hand and begins walking in the appropriate direction. ]

[at least he had something now. That was saying something. And it was miles better than attempted suicide, because that just left you dead. She holds red curls down as a breeze picks up past them, then pushes them back over her shoulder as she strode along with him, all high heels and mini-skirts and long legs.]

That's what I thought. I'll have to make sure I come up with something before we go our separate ways, or else I sincerely doubt we'll ever run into each other again. Not unless you keep a strict schedule, and I get lucky. [a pause, and a coy little smile.] Reverse that.

[ He's never going to get used to literally every girl he meets being taller than him. Thankfully, it never seems to pose much of a problem, but he finds himself glancing upwards at her as they walk, moving around and between the other pedestrians. ]

Well... [ There's a thoughtful pause. ] My brother's throwing a party tonight at his hotel. I could get you on the guest list?

[at the very least, she's barely taller than him. If he got her out of those heels, she'd be shorter, though that situation was a long-shot to begin with. He should probably just get used to people being taller than him.]

Do you always get girls you meet at coffee shops on guest lists of big parties? [a coy little smile.] I suppose I could free up some time.

[ See, that's really comforting. All of the women he's around on a daily basis are not only freakishly tall, but they also feel the need to wear high heels all the time. Which means Eric is dwarfed all the time. ]

Not always. Usually I get boys I meet at coffee shops on guest lists of big parties. [ Well there's a not-so-subtle 'hey, I'm gay!' for you. ] Great. It's at the Empire. Eight o'clock.

[the poor muffin. He needs a hug. Or bigger lifts in his shoes.]

I'm not surprised. But at least this gives me something to look forward to. I'll be there with metaphorical bells on.

[ Both sound good, actually. ]

You're not surprised? [ He lets out a small, surprised laugh. ] Am I that obvious or do you just have a good gaydar?

Let's go with the latter. [a little smile.] Though I prefer 'observant'. It's a bit more accurate.

[ He imagines he's probably a little bit obvious too, but he's not exactly complaining. ]

Observant it is, then.

[she tips her head, her smile still coy and proud.] So now that that's settled, I believe we were discussing your brother.

[subtle.]

[ So subtle. He gives a little laugh. ]

Right, my brother. His name's Chuck. [ A beat, and then: ] Bass. Chuck Bass. [ Of Bass Industries, maybe she'll recognize the name. Most people do. ] He owns the Empire Hotel. And he's only twenty.

[she is the picture of subtle. And sadly, the name doesn't ring a bell at all. A shame, really. Comes from being too far removed from reality most of the time.] And how exactly does a twenty year old come to own a hotel?

open rp post ❧

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