January 1

Who: Elle and open
Where: The festival
When: Afternoon

Who: Jakob and Lila
When: Evening
Where: The Kitten Club

Who: Danny and Eris
Where: One More Round
When: late evening

It wasn't even ten yet, but Danny was already picking up his fourth drink from the bartender. His new year was off with a bang: he got almost no sleep the night before after staying up late with his wife to celebrate and then had spent the morning and most of the day on security detail for the pathetic excuse for a festival in the park. He'd been rained on, half froze to death and couldn't meet up with Stella tonight because she had to work. Downright shitty day. Happy fucking New Year.

Who: Brett and Garret
Where: The Kitten Club
When: Evening

Brett had spent most of the day sleeping, dead tired after being up for most of the night. Not that he'd been able to fall asleep the moment he'd gotten home - he'd spent several hours tossing and turning and cursing the bitch's name and the day she came into his life and then himself for being insane enough to do what he did. Sleep had come eventually though, fitfully, until it had been time to get up. Get up, grab a coffee, and head out to work, lack of sleep making his usual foul temper even worse. That wouldn't matter though, given his role.

His job for that night was one of his intermittently reoccurring ones: security of sorts at the Kitten Club. Watch the stage door, watch the backstage entrance, be glowering and big and make sure that nobody bothered the girls. It was an easy role and one he actually didn't mind - not that he'd ever admit to that. Nor would he ever use the word 'enjoy' in relation to it. Brett determinedly took no joy at all from his life, one may even say he made a point of it. But there he was, suited and booted - though unshaven - moving around between the backstage area, and the occasional trip around the floor, checking for any of the usual troublemakers. Occasionally he'd stop and talk to one of the customers, or one of the girls, if he was wanted, or needed.

who: Garret
where: His apartment
when: morning

Garret had learned years ago not to get totally wasted. Mildly buzzed, but not wasted. Drunk off his nut he’d end up taking offense, likely to something hardly offensive, and start a fight. One drunk against another and then five of the other guy’s buddies joining in, usually meant waking up with bruises and a concussion, once even internal injuries. Then there was the excellent chance of getting pick pocketed. Nah. No more getting wasted outside of his own apartment.

who: eris
where: her loft
when: early evening

Eris had spent most of her day sleeping. She'd been up for quite a long while after Brett had left her, and really only managed to drop off once she'd had enough to drink to do it. When she woke, she recognized that she'd spent the entire time tossing and turning, the sheets twisted around her form, most of her blankets kicked off the side of the bed at some point.

Who: Michael and Hal
Where: Fontaine Park
When: Morning

Who: Louise and Jesse
When: Noonish
Where: Nighthawk's Diner

It had been quite a night for Louise. One More Round had been packed for New Year's, and even she had been pressed into service as a barmaid. She might not drink herself, but she knew enough to make most things. Plus it was highly entertaining watching people fall all over themselves as the evening progressed. The party had gone well into the night, and she'd found herself staying a bit later to clean up. But hey, she'd been promised a little extra for sticking around, so she didn't mind.

who: cheyenne and adriana
where: the festival
when: early afternoon

Cheyenne was just the eensiest bit hung over. She'd definitely been out having a very good time the night before, and was of course paying for that today. But, it was the festival today and she rarely missed anything like that. There were some family members that were more or less on her case about appearances, so...she just showed. She just showed with her camera!

As she walked through the park, juggling her umbrella and camera, she paused to take a photograph of the statue in the middle of the park--no one even knew who the statue was of anymore. Just someone that history had apparently forgotten. It was old, a bit worn, and the weather stains seemed to make it look like it was weeping. She took another shot then stopped, looking around to see if there weren't other people around so she could take a picture of them.

Who: Angelo
Where: One More Round
When: last call (roughly 2 AM)

Who: Pepper and Dutch
Where: The streets
When: Morning

Pepper sat under the shelter of an store awning, watching the rain fall in the street, listening to the sounds of someone else's party dwindling nearby. She'd found a party hat in the gutter - which she was not wearing, it was sat by her side looking damp and decrepit - but she did have a streamer laid around her neck. Her own little new year's celebration - kinda. She's spent some time with friends, seeing in the new year. Midnight under Sixth Street bridge, it was good as anything and probably a lot better than going to some fancy pants party that was probably boring as anything and all about appearances anyhow.

She scrubbed a hand over her shaved head, then pulled on her cap against the rain, and to keep the cold off as watched for people wandering home. She liked people-watching. Knowing who was going where, seeing who. Sometimes she talked to them - other times she played the game of seeing whether she could unnerve them by staring. She wasn't sure which one she'd pick this time - it all depended on who walked past next.

Who: Brett and Eris
Where: the loft above the One More Round
When: around 3am

It was a dark, and stormy night. But then it seemed like it was an endless series of them, the only thing marking the passage of time differently being the songs she sang downstairs. It was late when she started up the narrow, claustrophobic stairwell to the loft. The theme of the evening was she was feeling dead on her feet, tired in a bone-deep-ache sort of way. Vaguely, in the back of her mind, she was wondering if this was what her existence was going to be now. Waking up, heading downstairs eventually, singing songs, coming back home. She didn't even speak to anyone, really. Not the band, not anyone in the club. Hell, she had it currently set up that the owner put her cut in the mail slot in an unmarked envelope.