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Devon Holmes
Dude!
Tue May 9, 2006 14:41
66.244.88.49

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 out to a club and getting himself absolutely trashed. All the talk of Sonnet was hardly making him feel any better, and just a tad selfish. Why hadn’t they had more time together?

Color him all sorts of surprised when the actor in question really did stroll out the front door of the theater, glancing about. Once Michael had spotted Devon, he meandered over to the vehicle and hopped right in without any hesitation. Why the hell were they doing this? Some mutual need for alcohol because of a rededication ceremony? This was all sorts of fukked up. Seriously.

One maddening drive later, and a lucky space in a parking garage, they were off down the garishly lighted path. Why not go where they knew your name? Cringing inside at that terrible quip, and happy he wasn’t drunk yet considering it would’ve been said aloud, Devon steered them towards a posh little club that was fairly secluded. Even with his bandaged nose, and Michael’s lax appearance and demeanor, they had no difficulties getting a table. Along with the waitress that happened to be outstanding eye candy, he was definitely settling into the evening.

Frowning ever so slightly at the off-color remarks that the couple at the table behind Michael, he could only quirk a brow when the actor seemed to count in his head as they left for the dance floor. One, two, three, four, five… Michael spun about and sat himself at the other table as if he had every right to belong there, and began fiddling with the appetizers. He saw a bottle of Tabasco sauce go past, along with salt and pepper, even some grated parmesan cheese. Considering they had ordered popcorn shrimp for an appetizer… Ugh. That was going to be disgusting.

Quirking a brow as Michael retook his seat, that smirk told all. Well, Devon realized upon reflection, the guy may be an ass; but at least he was a fair asshole. “Just evening the odds, Holmes.”

“I see that.” His smirk easily matched Michael’s, right up until their drinks arrived. Screw the beer; he was going right for the scotch. Straight up, and neat. Devon couldn’t even tell what the actor was drinking at this point, and didn’t rightly care as long as he got shit-faced enough not to deal with the world.

See, that was the grand thing about going out for drinks with a person you hated. Once the alcohol began to flow, you just didn’t give a rat’s ass any more. Devon knew that Michael hated him on multiple levels, likely believing that he had coerced Sonnet into something she hadn’t agreed with. But, then again, he wasn’t going to exactly confess that Sonnet had been the one to finally prod him in the right direction. Hell, they had danced around the topic for so often, and for so long, it felt as if it would never happen. Then it did, and… Damn.

“Are you drunk already? Your eyes are glazed over.” Erm, shit. Busted.

“Nah, just thinking.” Pausing, Devon glanced over Michael’s shoulder and gave a smirk. First of all, the lovely Creole waitress was returning with another round of drinks. Secondly, the assholes at the next table were reseating themselves to partake in appetizers. “Oh, this will be fun…” No, his speech definitely was not slurred. Wait, how many drinks had they had by now?

Indeed! There they went, picking at the appetizers. The first few bites were absolutely fine. Then the interesting expressions surfaced, along with gulps of water, and finally a shout for the waitress. Oh hell, was this going to backfire? Frowning, Devon nodded his head towards the couple that were quickly beginning to make a scene in front of the restaurant portion of the club. Lovely!

“These is shit! This is the worst service I have EVER had here!” The plate of appetizers went flying, glass shattering upon the ground, and the waitress appearing as if she was going to cry.

It was funny, the way both he and Michael stood up as one. Devon managed to quietly whisper in her ear, and pull his wallet out to show identification. That’s right, get your manager, because these assholes definitely need to leave. As in now. The actor was glaring down at the table’s occupants, who were still shouting loudly. A bunch of entitlement bitches and bastards, that’s what they were.

“Sirs, please leave. You’re creating a scene.” He was going to be nice, no matter how much alcohol was in his system. Really! But the two men were having absolutely none of that, which was a shame. Honest.

That was when it happened.

The man nearest to Michael took a dive at the actor, shoving from his seat with alacrity. Devon hadn’t thought the bloke would have it in him, either! Turning from the man that had been shouting, he tried his damnedest to pull the idiot off of the actor, who was obviously holding his own. But this was beyond ridiculous. It got a little bit fuzzy after that, though.

He had been hit in the back, a heavy weight pushing him down to the ground, which nearly toppled the other two men. Oh yes, it was the shouter. By the time Devon had managed to subdue his assailant, practically by sitting on his back and twisting his arm, the bouncers showed up. Establishments like this didn’t need to call the police frequently. Instead, it was the men that were as burly as John hauling all four of them out the door, amidst protests.

Eating pavement, Devon spat and glanced over at Michael, who was already standing and dusting himself off. Then the laughter came, because it was completely absurd! He gasped for air, which wasn’t helping his amusement any. “Oh shit, a federal agent just got tossed out for fighting…” There was a momentary pause, before the gales of laughter started anew.

The night became a muddle of drinks served by appealing women, lost in the amber liquid and the bright neon lights. By the time they stumbled out of the last bar, it was past closing time, and being threatened by yet another bouncer. A bright yellow taxi saved the day, and they were whisked off to Wonderland.

Or so his dreams said.

Devon groaned, staring at the ceiling, wondering where the hell he was at. And why did he still have his shoes on? Apparently he had managed to get the suit jacket and tie undone, but not the ankle holster or his loafers. Ugh, his mouth tasted like shit, and his head was pounding. Then the cry of a babe broke into his consciousness, and memory flooded back.

Oh hell, he was at Caleb and Lucy’s. They had even gone so far as to give him a key to make leaving and entering easier. Maybe it was a show of trust, he didn’t know. Biting back a shout as he managed to sit up in bed, bleary eyed, Devon glanced about. What the hell happened last night? He could remember something about popcorn shrimp and a fight, which may have been the reason for his protesting muscles. Rubbing the back of his head, he even went so far as to glance out the side window towards the driveway.

Where the hell was his car?

Staring for a minute before coming back to his senses, he scrambled for the cell phone, which was found in the corner of the room with his jacket. Managing to navigate the address book with numb fingers, he eventually put a ringing phone to his ear, waiting. And waiting some more.

Cheers! Ah-ha.

“Hugh, its Devon. Is Michael there? I… er… Need to ask him something.” There was a muffled pause, but the man acquiesced and went to fetch his son. Flopping back onto the bed, he resumed staring at the ceiling, wishing this headache would abate. Hell, it rivaled the pain that his nose was putting off! Not even a week into his so-called ‘vacation’ and he was about to keel over.

Nnnrgh… ‘llo? Oh, very nice drunk-speak there.

“Hey, it’s Devon. I need to ask you something.” Frowning, and knowing this was going to sound ridiculous, he sucked it up and posed his question. “Where’s my car?”

I… huh? Exactly.

“I can’t remember half of last night!” Devon tried not to laugh, especially when it hurt his head, but it couldn’t be helped. “Where’d we ditch the car?” Snicker-snicker.

Uh… It was in a garage. Fukk if I remember which one it was. Figures. Well, it was worth a shot.

“All right, get your ass in the shower.” He could almost imagine the puzzled face and the furrowed brow on the other end of the line, and started laughing again. “We’ll grab lunch, get some more drinks, find out where the hell we got kicked out of… and maybe that’ll lead us to the car.” Pausing, Devon managed to kick off his shoes and unbutton his shirt. “Because the last thing I want to do is call up the rental company and say, ‘Hi there! I’m a dumb ass, and totally lost your car.’”

Dunno, sounds a mite appropriate there…

“Uh huh. Just for that you’re buying the first round. I’ll be there in an hour.” Click. Grumbling to himself, Devon shuffled off toward the shower, hoping they’d have at least a bit of luck finding the damned thing.

And if not… Well, it was a good reason to drink as any.

  • A New EraMichael Pierson, Tue May 9 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... more
    • Dude! — Devon Holmes, Tue May 9 14:41
      • 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
                    • Home Again, Home Again...Devon Holmes, Mon Aug 14 19:28
                      [Monday. 11:56 am. The map says where we are.] “Are we there yet?” Oh God, he swore he was going to kill a Brit-cum-Yank within the next thirty seconds. “Is that all you can ever say?” Devon... more
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