1989: a story of two misfit kids from mid-west america making it big in the big apple. and in the true sense of the american dream they find themselves in a life of sex, money, drugs, and a little rock n roll too.
warnings: adult content, mature rea...
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moodboard: billofourtime on tumblr ________________________________________________________________________________
Days had passed yet neither of them could find significant time alone. There was no time to sneak off during club hours. And most disappointingly they didn't have the time nor the energy at home. They would both plop into bed exhausted from the late nights and the little hours of sleep. There were times Alma would find Bill's hand under her skirt teasing her or she would pin him to his office chair in the loft leaving small bruises on his neck with her teeth teasing each other – building up hope for something more but once home either one was too drunk to get it up or the other was too drunk to stay awake to get to that grand slam ending they desperately wanted. Effectively leaving each other sexually frustrated. The fast lifestyle of debauchery came with tons of endless fun but it did have its drawbacks and it so happened to be cutting into their nonexistent sex life at the moment.
Alma spent her work shift that evening nauseous from a hangover, trying to reach that drunken state she was at last night so that she could forget about her churning belly. Ever the clever alcoholic she thought she was, she chugged down Moscow Mule's believing the ginger beer would help settle her stomach as she chased the buzz she craved for.
"Bundy?" She called for him. "Wanna take a shot with me?"
"Jeff," He corrected. "But, sure what're we having?" He said peering down the other side of the bar, eagerly rubbing his hands together in anticipation.
"I don't know what does a killer like to drink?" She giggled feeling the drinks finally giving her a satisfyingly playful buzz.
"Oh don't fuckin' start Echo," he couldn't help but laugh just a little.
"I'll tell you what! Tequila!" She sang sliding his shot towards him. "Cheers!" A shiver ran up her spine when the shot passed her tongue and down her throat.
Bundy sneered at the taste as he slammed the empty shot glass down. "What's up with him?" He pointed while wiping his lips dry.
Alma didn't bother turning to see who he was referring to because she knew he was talking about Craig. "He's in a mood, he's always like that," she shrugged.
"So he usually cries?"
"What?" She whipped her head back and faced the glistening of tears brimming in his eyes as he dried drinking glasses. "Craig?" He shook his head upon hearing his name pulling him from his depressed daze as he sniffled, squaring his shoulders. "Dude, take a break you're gonna bum everyone out looking like that out here."
"Sorry, it's just," his voice cracked and his hand snapped up into a fist to hold back a sob.
"Just, go take a break," she said gently pushing him towards the back.
Alma shook her head pouring herself another shot and shooting it back just as fast as she poured it. "I-" she frowned a bit contemplating. "That was kinda mean huh?"
