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Michael Pierson
A New Era
Tue May 9, 2006 11:27

"How is your mother faring?"

Michael opened his eyes reluctantly, tempted to draw the covers over his face completely, and watched his father's face as the older gentleman settled comfortably into the recliner that dominated one entire corner of the flat's guestroom. He'd been all set to stay for a week at the Waldorf, but both Hugh and Ben insisted strongly that he remain with them. It had cost a fiver to cancel the six day reservation, but worth every penny to avoid the hotel's pub. Something about a drinking problem - though his father was as forthright as always.

"You got arseholed last night, Michael."

The younger fought off the urge to reply Aren't you the bright one and simply mumbled something appropriate. Of course, something appropriate included maintaining awareness long enough to wish his father a good morning, nonsense that backfired when Michael found himself annoyingly awake straight afterwards. Gritting his teeth, the actor peeled aside the covers and quickly hopped out of bed. Braving the cold floor, he hobbed down the hall to the guest bathroom and spent most of the next thirty minutes standing under nearly scalding water in the shower.

Ben had graciously supplied breakfast; bagels, cream cheese, orange juice ... an array of fruit slices. A relaxing morning, that was, until Hugh casually dropped the bombshell reason for Michael's presence in New York. "... and we rebuilt it after the fire. Caleb's idea, his and Daniel's, to dedicate the new structure to Sonnet." The actor stared at his father, appetite all but declaring itself AWOL.


"Six o'clock sharp, Michael. It's the least you can do for your sister." Ben was rounding on him now, tossing in a few more verbal gems about solidarity amongst family members and such, until all he wanted to do was escape the apartment and find a pub open this early in the day. It wasn't that Michael didn't acknowledge the fact he was a lush, it was simply that he didnt care these days. Alcohol drowned memories he'd rather forget, and if he was lucky someday, those hated images would be gone permanently.

Best not to think about what might happen should his grand scheme fail.

But by six that evening, he'd arrived exactly five minutes early, clad appropriately in pressed jeans and a black turtleneck that enhanced his lean frame. One of Ben's dressy gray dinner jackets had been borrowed, since Michael's entire luggage consisted of turtlenecks and jeans and the running shoes he habitually wore. Everyone had come in groups, which left him almost entirely on his own. Luckily, he was the second to speak on behalf of the deceased, a few mumbled words of thanks and it was back to the sidelines, lips twisted towards the ground as he fought off a headache.

It only got worse when Devon Holmes materialized at his side, long legs automatically shifting into a defensive position, when the oddest comment just tumbled out of the ass's mouth. That’s it, I need a drink. You coming, or not?

It took Michael at least three minutes to process the information and glance around at the sea of faces currently intent on what Luciana Holmes was saying. Yeah, Devon, blast him, was right. Several stiff drinks were far more preferrable to listening to this ... shit. He was out of the building and sliding into the passenger seat of the man's rented SUV in less than five minutes after a hasty apology to his father. "Going drinking with Devon. Don't wait up."

They fled from the Village, heading south, and eventually left the vehicle in a secured parking garage before hitting Broadway on foot. Devon had grown up in the area, so he was naturally the source of knowledge, and so Michael found himself in a rather upscale club that catered to the sort of people that had their drugs delivered via messenger. Rich, occasionally famous. He should have felt distinctly out of place, but old habits die hard, and it was so easy to slip into his aloof persona.

At least until the couple behind him started verbally cutting down the gorgeous Creole waitress taking care of their small section. Michael was many things, most of which he'd readily admit to, but one thing he couldn't stand was racism. He waited patiently until they removed themselves to the dance floor before wisking himself to the abandoned table and began fiddling with the tray of appetizers they'd ordered. A little salt here, a bit of tabasco there ... pretty soon the entire meal was, well, nasty, but very cleverly hidden to appear as if nothing was out of order. The pretty waitress was on the other side of the club, handing in his and Devon's drink orders. Satisfied, he retook his seat and simply smirked at the brow Devon had lofted.

"Just evening the odds, Holmes."

  • The ReturnDevon Holmes, Sun May 7 19:54
    Knock, knock, knock. Devon stood there, waiting patiently due to the strands of Broadway inspired music floating from an open second-level window. Well, if they couldn't hear him, there was always... more
    • A New Era — Michael Pierson, Tue May 9 11:27
      • Dude!Devon Holmes, Tue May 9 14:41
        Devon couldn’t believe he just did that. Strolling out to his rented SUV, the feeb settled himself behind the wheel. He’d wait five minutes to see if Michael really was going to come, before going... more
        • Dude, Part DeuxM Pierson, Thu Jun 1 10:22
          "Michael, you've a phone call." "Michael?" It took three tries before Hugh managed to rouse an unrepentedly hung over Brit, during which time Michael found himself annoyingly awake. Phone call. From... more
          • Homeward Bound!Bennett Holmes, Sat Jun 3 23:38
            “Psst… wakey wakey…” Nnnrgh! Bennett groaned, batting at the hand which was currently poking him in the side. He hated flying. Cramped seats, bad meals – sometimes – and people stared like they were... more
            • Surprises on StageCastelluccio | Holmes, Sun Jun 4 00:40
              “That was weird.” “No shit.” John stared out the back door where Bennett Holmes and Laramie Sorensen went. It was likely a good thing Jaybird had been out at the doctor for the baby’s checkup,... more
              • Home - Where My Thoughts EscapeSorensen, Thu Jun 8 10:11
                Eight months on the road was hell, but Lara wasn't trying to complain. Not when pouring her soul into her voice and fingers became such a heady rush that Bennet had been forced to ease her off stage... more
                • The Fire's Out AnywayCafferty | Pierson, Mon Jun 26 14:52
                  Who do you think you are? Barging in on me and my guitar Little girl -- hey The door is that way You better go you know The fire's out anyway Sean watched Caleb snark his way across the stage, words... more
                  • Dates and DatesDevon Holmes, Tue Jul 4 18:40
                    The last week had been an utter haze for Devon. Between the days that he had gone out pub hopping with Michael, and the various other occasions where he told himself he was going to go out for only... more
                    • Road to MorroccoMichael Pierson, Fri Jul 21 11:44
                      "You are definately loosing it, old man. Not that you ever had a firm grip on the mundane." Wasn't it a sign of dementia when you started talking to yourself? Or did you have to bring someone else to ... more
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