FREE TIME WAS PLANNED TIME. At least, for Blaire it was. With the constant additions to her various workloads, she had to almost physically carve out time in her schedule to keep her sanity. After her last memory episode, there was nothing Blaire wanted more than to get away from the confusion that seeped its way into most aspects of her life. And by that, she meant getting as close to blackout drunk as she could without completely falling off the edge.
So that's how she ended up in her current predicament, tip-toeing out of a house that she had definitely never been to before, half dressed and hungover as hell.
But we'll get there.
The evening started on a Saturday around 2PM, when Blaire checked the last item off of her responsible "To-Do" list for both school and work. Throwing her head back and leaning against the stiff back of the chair she sat in, Blaire let out a deep breath. Finally, she thought. She briefly rubbed at her temples before closing the offending laptop in front of her. The last thing she wanted to think about was the unfinished documents that were left open on the device, all with looming due dates. But they could and would wait just a little bit longer. Blaire was as caught up as she needed to be at this point, and beyond caring. Pushing the chair back from the cluttered desk of her study, she took a cursory glance around the room-which, mind you, looked a mess from all the miscellaneous papers and books that littered the room in various states- and shook her head. Tidying could wait another evening, too.
Moments later she was closing the door to the study in an effort to distance herself from the work as much as she could, she made her way to the staircase in the foyer that led to the main part of the second floor. Blaire had discovered sometime over the course of the last year that there was in fact more than one set of stairs, attesting to the age of the building. From the kitchen there was a small and narrow staircase that led to a hidden panel on the second floor, just outside of the master bedroom-the one Blaire had naturally chosen for herself, being the only one with a full en suite bathroom. The kitchen also held the entrance to what Blaire assumed was the basement, but the door had been locked since she moved in. Very well in tune with her common sense, Blaire had a feeling that the door was locked without a key in sight for a reason and left it at that.
Taking the stairs two at a time, she raced to her room. She silently thanked herself again for the impulse purchase of the house socks that she wore on her feet, boasting a cheery holiday print with rubber grippies on the bottom. The hardwood flooring of the house made it particularly dangerous to anyone with poor balance and smooth socks. Especially at the speed Blaire had just taken the left hand turn around the railing of the hall to get to her room, hidden behind the door closest to the front of the house.
It was a matter of seconds after opening her bedroom door that Blaire was sprawled out on her queen sized bed, face buried in her array of pillows at the head of the bed. She let out a long and slow breath, feeling her body decompress and her spine crack wonderfully as the pressure was relieved. She would have been delighted to stay in bed for the rest of her Saturday, but knew she'd regret it if she let another opportunity to go out slip through her fingers. Knowing she was doomed to do just that if she didn't motivate herself soon, she groaned into her pillow in defeat. Pushing herself up by her forearms she slid herself backwards off of her bed in the general direction of her bathroom, set on taking a nice long, hot shower.
Dressed in what would later become her pajamas, Blaire smoothed her long hair into a tight bun on the back of her head, already treated with mousse to define the curls that would tumble down after it dried and she removed the hair band she was currently securing around it. Phase one of getting ready, complete. Blaire looked over to the digital clock face on the outdated cable box that served as a tv stand on her dresser across the room. 3:15. She'd killed almost an hour with her in-depth shower routine. Pleased, she glanced back into the bathroom one last time to make sure she removed the clutter from her skincare routine from the countertop, and grabbed her phone from the bedside table where she had left it this morning so she could focus on her work. Checking her notifications, she was unsurprised to find she hadn't missed many direct messages, just a lot of inane chatter from various group chats that made her smile to herself as she made her way back downstairs to the kitchen.
Parched, the first thing she did was make a beeline to the dated refrigerator where she kept a constant supply of her favorite cola. As she reached for a can, she assessed her food situation. She wasn't desperately in need of groceries, another thing she thanked herself for. Grocery shopping was an activity she reserved for during the week, as a productive getaway from her day to day work and school activities. It being Saturday, however, meant she was mostly out of her precooked meals since that was a time consuming weekend activity. Checking the time on her phone, she debated for a moment before deciding she had enough time to make a hearty soup before she wanted to leave.
Closing the refrigerator, she cracked open her Coke and set to work, finding her denim apron that hung on the inside of the pantry door first and tying it around her waist. On her right was that locked door, and to the left of the pantry was a bit of counter space before the gas range stove that Blaire absolutely loved. She felt spoiled after living in apartments that only had small electric stove units that were the absolute worst. On the other side of the stove in the bottom cupboard was where Blaire kept her trusty soup pot that her mother had bought her when she had moved into her first apartment (along with most of the essentials). Pulling it out from its storage spot, she began her soup-making task, telling her virtual assistant over the device in her kitchen to play one of her favorite cooking playlists.
The next time Blaire looked up from her task, the soup was almost done and another good hour and a half had passed. As she reduced the soup to a simmer, she ditched her apron in a pile on the counter and set to work cleaning up the delicious mess she had just created. Lucky for her, the kitchen was equipped with a gorgeous stainless steel extra wide double bay sink on the opposite wall that made doing the dishes a breeze. What's even better was that the sink was strategically placed in front of a large bay window that served not only to let a great deal of natural light into the room, but a great view out to the back side of the house where she had a small yard with a flower bed, garden, and fantastic view of the woods behind her house. Absentmindedly, she made a mental note to go for a run the next day.
By the time she had eaten a bowl of soup, stored the leftovers, and cleaned up the rest of the kitchen, six o'clock had rolled around. Blaire grinned as she looked at the time on her phone, deeming it late enough to begin getting ready for her night out.
Making her way back up to her bedroom, she took the stairs one at a time. Filled with food this time around she didn't want to risk any mistakes that could be relatively painful at the moment. Returning to her room a second time that day, she made a beeline to her closet (which also showed its age).
The layout of the bedroom was pretty straightforward: From the doorway her bed was placed in the middle of the room against the back wall straight ahead. To the right, on the right hand wall, was the door to the en suite bathroom, and to the left of the bed on the same wall was a door that went straight back to her closet. The left wall held a cute alcove with yet another large bay window, coupled with a cushioned window seat that doubled as more storage. Next to the entry door on the left side was the dresser that the tv and cable box rested on.
The only other furniture in the room other than the bed, dresser, and nightstands was an old steamer trunk that Blaire had found at a thrift shop years ago and just had to have. What had once likely been a travelling trunk for someone now held various knick knacks and books that Blaire had kept over the years. It sat at the end of the bed, set away from the solid wood frame a few inches so as not to damage either item. Underneath was a simple solid color rug large enough to fit entirely under the bed, trunk, and two nightstands on either side of the bed. It helped with the morning chill of the cold hardwood floor.
The closet, then, was a gem in itself. It ran the entire width of her bedroom, and was about six feet deep. It was the largest walk-in closet she'd ever seen, nevermind had the privilege to call her own. The bareness of the room lent itself to that fact quite generously. Because of this, Blaire had taken to only using the space that she needed closest to the door. No sense it spreading what little I have around she had thought when she was unpacking.
So, while her clothing options were limited in the first place, it was easy to see how her "going-out" clothes were even more limited. Looking at the shelves in front of her, she weighed her options. She could wear her little black dress, a pair of high waisted jeans paired with a green striped crop top, or a summer dress. With so few options, the decision to go with the jeans and crop top was a quick one.
Satisfied with her choice in outfit, she grabbed the clothes along with the heeled boots that would go with it she exited her closet and tossed them onto the bed as she made her way to the bathroom to do her makeup-the part that would take the longest.
Another 45 minutes had passed by the time Blaire was setting her makeup with a fine mist. A quick final glance in the mirror reflect deliciously red lips, glittering eyelids, and killer winged eyeliner. Making her way back into her bedroom, she skillfully maneuvered her way out of her pajama shirt without smudging any of her makeup. Years of practice, that trick took. Putting the crop top on was much easier since the neckline was so low. A few more minutes and her soft pants were replaced with skin tight button fly jeans that hugged her figure in the most pleasant way. The heels were the final touch to the outfit before she was confident enough to let her hair down from it's bun, hoping enough time had passed since her shower to properly dry the hair and hold the loose curl.
Running her fingers through her hair to smooth it out, she didn't bother to go back to the bathroom to mess with her hair. Blaire knew from experience that whatever it did now was all it was ever going to do. It felight light and airy enough, and when she ran her hands through it it wasn't as damp as she feared it was so that was a good sign. Maybe the style would last a little bit longer since it was relatively dry.
Shrugging to herself, she grabbed her phone, keys, and wallet from the bed where she had last seen them, and headed out.
Blaire had found out quickly that even with the large size of the university, the bar scene was severely lacking. Probably due to the fact that Belgrave University was nestled in a quintessential college town-where the town was the university. That being said, the bar choices might have been slim but they weren't so bad.
The bar of choice for the students was clear, a quaint at classic place called The Blade and Chalice that had a strangely nice working environment during the day, and active night scene. Especially on weekends. Saturday nights, in particular, the place was cleared of the tables and chairs in the center of the bar to make way for the DJ the bar invited every weekend to liven things up.
Blaire approached the bar that Saturday evening for just that reason. Without any friends of her own, the bar was the best place for her to just let loose on the weekends. Her only other option, after all, were the numerous frat parties that were scattered across campus. As not only a graduate student but a full time employee of the University, that didn't seem like the best idea, nor an attractive one.
The party was full swing when she stepped through the door. Bodies crowded the makeshift dance floor as colored lights flashed through the open room, the house lights dimmed significantly. Equipped with a smile, she mouthed the words to the song that she recognized playing over the speakers and made her way over to the bar to order her first drink of the night.
With any luck, she thought, I'll get someone else to buy me some drinks tonight. She thanked the bartender when she came back with her bottle of hard cider, trading her cash for the drink. When she turned her back to the bar, her eyes made a sweep of the room. She recognized a lot of the people around, if only by face. Many were regulars at The Blade and Chalice, and easily recognizable. Others were from around campus.
As the song changed to another upbeat pop song, Blaire slipped through the crowd of people towards the center, where she knew from experience she'd have the most fun. The faces here she recognized from their consistent presence at these events. Over the past year she'd made a solid acquaintanceship with for this situation exactly. The group of young men and women welcomed her with -quite literal- open arms as the first verse of the song began. Screaming the lyrics of the popular song along with the others, Blaire proceeded to pass a good amount of time between the drinking and mindless ass shaking that qualified as dancing.
Things only got really interesting when she pushed her way back to the bar, a little more than tipsy, for her next round of drinks. She was almost there when a body knocked into her from behind, forcing her to stumble forwards a bit before she could catch herself, lightly on the arm of the poor guy that was already at the bar waiting for his drink. She vaguely felt hands on her back that were some form of apology from whoever had bumped into her, but Blaire was a little distracted.
When she straightened herself out and turned to apologize to the person she used as a catch-all, she had to pause for her brain to catch up with her body. The face in front of her wasn't incredibly familiar, But god is he attractive Blaire thought, mouth slightly open. She caught herself quickly, apologizing profusely.
"I am so sorry, I'm beyond tipsy and not the most balanced at the moment," She explained, with an apologetic smile.
The man looked back at her, returning her smile. "Don't even worry about it. It's so crowded in here, and I saw what happened. Are you alright?" He asked her, concern in his eyes as he glanced down at her heels.
Blaire responded first with a giggle. "Yeah, I'm fine. It takes a lot more than a little stumble to twist an ankle in these bad boys," she responded, turning to the bartender when the stranger received his drink and ordered hers quickly. She turned back to the stranger, hoping to pull even a little more conversation out of him over the music. "I haven't seen you around one of these before," she commented.
He paused to take a swig from the glass the bartender had handed him before answering. "I'm generally not here for these things, they're not my thing. My...friends, brought me out here tonight for a change of pace and I'm still not convinced that it's my scene," he said nodding to a dark haired male and female that occupied one of the booths that were still in the room. The man perked up when he saw the two looking at him, and waved enthusiastically. What Blaire didn't see was the wink the young man sent to the stranger in front of her when she turned back to him.
The smile hadn't left her face by the time the bartender was back with her drink. Taking a sip, she responded, "I see. Well, if their position is any clue, you're clearly not doing this right. You can't sit a talk with your already established friends when you're out like this; you have to put yourself out there and dance!" She gasped as the next song began to play. "Come on, dance with me! I love this song, and I've just voted myself your new best friend." She grabbed his hand and gently tugged him along with her, knowing full well that he was only going to go with her if he truly wanted to. When he didn't pull away from her, she mentally leapt in triumph.
At first, it was awkward. So awkward. This guy was so out of his element it almost made Blaire laugh. But she remembered the days when she too was like that. All it took was a little coaxing to break her shell, and she wondered if things were the same for this stranger. So she did the only thing she knew and pulled him closer to loosen up his body with hers. Learning to dance with a partner was much more productive than solo, after all. She felt him stiffen from the contact, but she ignored it in her drunken state and simply continued dancing, hoping that her feigned indifference would relax him and let him go with the flow. She could tell he'd had his fair share of alcohol that night and figured it wouldn't take him too long to go with the flow.
Randall Carpio watched the scene unfold from his little corner of the bar, Lilith by his side, and a smirk on his face. He'd had a feeling about tonight, and it was the only reason he'd insisted so much that they come out to the bar on this night. He looked over to Lilith to see if she was seeing what he was. The dark haired female rolled her eyes when she noticed Randall's attention, making a snide comment. "You would be this excited by Hamish putting himself out there."
He smiled. "What can I say, I knew it would be a good night. He's pretty far gone, you want to leave him here and see what happens?" He asked, waggling his eyebrows.
Lilith roller her eyes, but conceded to herself that this was probably a good thing for Hamish after everything that had happened, and knowing him he would try to use the two of them to prevent himself from having any fun. Reluctantly, she agreed with Randall with a nod and they both quickly finished off their drinks and slipped out of the bar unnoticed to go their separate ways.
Blaire wasn't sure exactly how much time had passed, but knew it must have been significant. Her feet were starting to hurt, and the DJ had just announced that the last song was about to play. She couldn't remember what time the bar closed in her current state, but assumed it was close to that time. She and the stranger had gotten very close during their time together on the dance floor, and each had the swollen lips to attest to it as they both got carried away by the mix of alcohol, close proximity, and sweating bodies. She'd spent the better part of what must have been the last hour dancing suggestively with the stranger, and she had relished the moment when he tilted his head ever so slightly to capture her lips with his. Blaire had been shocked at first, but couldn't help but melt into the kiss. Something about it just felt...right.
They'd been virtually inseparable after that point, Blaire remembered. It was definitely how she ended up waking up next to him, naked, in a house she'd never seen before with incredibly vivid memories from the night before. He'd stirred as she'd explored what she assumed was his bedroom, looking for enough of her clothing to cover up what needed to be covered up in order to make it back to her own place without being exposed to the entire world. It was easier said than done in the early morning light. She was wrestling on her jeans when he spoke.
"Holy fuck," he grumbled, pushing himself up on the bed so that he was sitting. Blaire made no effort to hide the fact that she was watching as the sheet slipped down his chest, leaving him nearly exposed in front of her again.
"You're telling me. Been a long time since I've done this, but don't mind me. I'll be out of your hair soon," she trailed off cheerily, moving on to putting her shirt on. If there was one way to keep her good mood even with a raging hangover, it was the memory of good dick.
"Can't say I've done something like this recently either." He paused for a moment. "I don't think I ever got your name?" He asked more than stated, and she snorted. Learning each other's names last night had clearly not been on either of their minds.
"Blaire. Blaire Kensington." She answered, searching for her phone and keys last. How her keys had left her pocket she had no idea.
"Hamish Duke." He said, returning the favor, leaving another pregnant pause as she searched for what she needed. "While last night was...unexpected, it certainly wasn't boring. Can I get your phone number or something?" He asked, curiosity filling his gaze.
Blaire almost froze. This gorgeous human wanted her phone number? This kind of shit only happened on tv. Thinking on her feet, she responded after only a moment. "I don't have a habit of giving my phone number to men I hook up with once. I'll tell you what. You can have my phone number if we meet again, and you still want it. Sound fair?"
He didn't even hesitate with his answer, a smirk clear as day on his face like he knew something she didn't. "That's a deal. I'll see you soon, Blaire."
She squealed inwardly, her face reddening as she understood the implication. Finding her keys, she darted out of the room and left before anything else could come out of her mouth that she would immediately regret saying.
By the time she had gotten home (through the woods, oddly enough) the blood had drained from her cheeks and her night was catching up with her. She wasn't sure how much sleep she had actually gotten over the course of the night, but knew from how sluggish her body was that it wasn't much. The only thing on her mind as she shoved her keys into the lock of her front door was her nice warm bed that was calling her name.
Annnnd there we have it! The true beginning to the plot. This chapter is longer than both of the last chapters combined, and is more or less what should be expected now that we're starting in. Let me know what you think!