Do I Wanna Know?

[Samuel Phillips]

It was with glazed eyes, numb lips and a stumble to his step that Samuel arrived to Charlotte's doorstep that night. He had just come from the speed dating event she convinced him to go to, which in past tense and with five too many fire whiskeys in his body was still a terrible, terrible idea. The night consisted of Sam gritting his teeth and repeatedly ordering glasses of fire whiskey while desperate people attempted to make conversation with him and he attempted to keep up his side out of sheer politeness, though leaving his interactions to said politeness and never wanting it to be anything more than an introduction and a few questions to follow. None of the people he had met seemed interesting by his loosest definition of the word and while Samuel actively blamed it on his pretentious pickiness and ridiculously high expectations when it came to dating, he knew that wasn't the only reason he refused to open up that night. But of course over analyzing why he refused to show interest in anyone he met at the leaky cauldron was the last thing on his mind as he opened Charlotte's front door ajar and poked his head through the space he created.

"Char?" He queried into her brightly light although empty living room. Their friendship had long surpassed the formalities of knocking or even sending a warning before showing up but in Samuel's drunken state he of coursed questioned it all and worried about showing up to her house verging on the hour of midnight. Granted, he had shown up at worse times, later at night or earlier in the morning depending on which way he wanted to look at it, but at this hour in particular Charlotte could have been asleep despite all the lights in her home being turned on. Or she might have been busy with work or anything else that involved lights being on and wouldn't favor a distraction in the form of his drunken self. He figured questioning he empty air of her home was enough to warrant walking inside however. So he promptly did so, walking towards the nearest sofa and spreading himself over it as he undid the suddenly tight feeling bow tie around the collar of his shirt. In the process he also kicked off his shoes, seemingly making himself at home and probably acting a little too comfortable considering the fact he had yet to actually see his blonde friend. His drunkenness was of course to blame for his behavior as well as his general sloppy demeanor that became apparent as he continued lying on Charlotte's sofa, whistling a quiet although familiar tune to himself as he stared up at the ceiling that somehow began spinning.

Suggested listening​

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[Charlotte Williams]

Charlotte had been working in the study, a slightly later date with her boyfriend, just due to their timetables being difficult to manage around one another, but Charlotte was blissfully work in the office, there was always work to be done and she always had something to do before she went to bed for the night. Part of her mind as she worked on the design she'd been doing before leaving earlier in the evening for the date, and the other was cast to Sam, and knowing that currently he was at some Speed Dating event, Charlotte had encouraged him to go to it, saying it might be good for him to get himself out and dating more. She shook the thought from her mind as she looked at the cup of coffee sitting beside her and realised that the cup was empty. The woman got to her feet, briefly tidying her desk before she made her way through her modern and spacious home, heading to the kitchen. She felt more satisfied with her life currently that she ever had before, her boyfriend was all kinds of perfect and her family, especially her mother adored him, however as much as he seemed 'perfect' she was left with a slightly odd feeling, and she kept putting off getting serious with him, though her mother repeatedly told her to, or he made hints towards it.

Charlotte was stood in front of the coffee machine when she heard the voice sounding through the hallway, "Sam?" she muttered although she shook her head at the surprised thought, it wasn't like he hadn't ever turned up unannounced before. As she glanced up at the time, the girl realised that actually it was a little earlier than some of the other times he'd shown up at her place, and the woman just smiled to herself and then grabbed a second mug from the shelf, instead of just making some coffee for herself also made some for him, she walked into the living area where Sam lay on the couch, "So, it went well then," she commented as she wandered over to him with a small smile on her face, holding out the cup for him to take if he so wanted it he would take it, "Let's hear the verdict," she asked him, pulling up a chair and sitting in front of him, sipping on her own cup of coffee. She brushed a hair through the still perfectly styled blonde hair, most would assume that given her fancy clothes, she was still dressed from her date, but in fact what she wore were what she termed her casual wear. The blonde kept her gaze on the clearly drunken man on her couch and just smiled, waiting to hear about what had happened at the speed dating.
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[Samuel Phillips]

Samuel held his hands over his stomach, twiddling his thumbs together as his eyes remained on the swirling ceiling. Thoughts of the event in the leaky cauldron stuck in his head as much as the alcohol simutaneously hazed it. He relayed every interaction throughout the night over in his mind as he lay on the sofa, so thankful that he no longer had to grit his teeth to the gum and drink himself stupid to deal with all of it that he almost didn't notice Charlotte's presence. When he did, he waved dismissively at the coffee she offered him, eyes moving from the ceiling to watch her put his cup of coffee on the table as a small smile graced his numb lips. Coffee was definitely not a smart choice for him right now but he appreciated the offer and intended to drink it when he knew he was able to sit up from the position he was lying without losing his balance and ending up falling to the floor.

His glazed eyes stayed on Charlotte as she pulled up a chair and queried him on the night. There wasn't much to talk about besides the fact he did not want to be there, and spent the entire time wishing he was somewhere more worthy of his time than some stupid speed dating event filled with desperate, hot messes who had the nerve to call themselves people. There was really no question to why they were single, either. They were as annoying to Sam as can be and clearly the reason he left the leaky cauldron the opposite of sober. He moved one of his hands to his hair and raked his fingers through it before summarizing the night as best he could. "They were all terrible, Char. I'm too good for them, and I think they knew that." He continued to keep one of his hands in his hair as he spoke to her. "It was like they thought I was a snob." He let out an obnoxious sounding laugh before he continued. "How dare they think that." He added as an afterthought. To say he was bitter about how the night played out would be an understatement, that much was clear. Sam's tone was enough to indicate that let alone the words escaping his mouth as he continued his drunken rambling.​

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[Charlotte Williams]

Charlotte watched him carefully as he lay on the sofa, she put down the offered coffee as he waved it away on the coffee table and instead just took a sip of her own coffee, not minding that he'd turned it down but knew that she had to have at least offered him something, after all that was the polite thing to do, and perhaps he would grow to want the coffee as their discussion moved on and the alcohol's effects faded away. The blonde woman knew that Sam was having issues moving on from his last relationship, though she didn't really understand his issue, Sam was hardly an unattractive person, a thought which cause her to glance over what he was wearing, letting her gaze linger on his hands, and then look back up as he began speaking to her. Charlotte shook her head in an almost unnoticeable move, as she paid attention to what he was saying, talking about the event itself, having never been to such a thing Charlotte couldn't imagine what it might've been like, she was settled in her relationship though they hadn't really moved forward too much and having to do dates really quickly kind of made her want to cringe away. The blonde knew she wasn't exactly low maintenance enough for such an event, but knowing Sam's rut she felt like that might good be a good thing for him to do.

The english woman nodded along with him as he spoke, keeping the small tea cup filled with coffee in her hands at her lap, just politely out of the way as she listened to what were clearly drunken rambles, her mind cast to those he might've spent the night with and wondered how they felt after it. Charlotte just nodded again, "I'm sorry Sam, I thought you might get something out of it," she apologised to her friend and she leaned in to give his shoulder a light squeeze along with her apology. Charlotte wasn't sure what else to say, though perhaps just assure him that he wasn't a snob and that they didn't think he was, "I'm sure they didn't think that, unless being a snob means being well dressed," Charlotte assured him with a friendly smile on her face as she just raised the coffee cup to her lips again and took a small drink, from the exact spot where her lipstick had already stained the rim, "Was there anyone there you liked?" she asked, wondering if perhaps someone had made the night more worthwhile, though by his tone she assumed there hadn't been.
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[Samuel Phillips]

Charlotte had initially coerced Sam into attending the event, but it was his overall decision to go. Spending a night with strangers in an unfamiliar bar didn't appeal to him and were what made him want to avoid the event at all costs until he realized the opportunities it could give him. Charlotte's opinion certainly swayed his thought process but the choice to attend was entirely in his hands. So her apology was a little unexpected from Sam's point of view. It was hardly her fault he did not enjoy spending so much time outside of his comfort zone with strangers, judging his every move and vice versa. But in his drunken state he was happy to soak up the attention she was giving him anyway. He felt his shoulder relax under her touch and missed the warmth when she moved her hand away so he quickly moved his own hand to hers and pulled it back, pressing the back of her hand to his cheek and widening his dopey looking grin. Sharing this kind of closeness with Charlotte was dangerous territory and if Sam were sober he would have taken a step back but his inhibitions were too far gone for him to realize stepping back was what he needed to do. He instead reveled in the feeling of her soft skin against his cheek and let it linger before he moved her hand away and continued rambling on about the night and why he needed to be so drunk to stay sane through all of it.

"I was the best dressed. I am the best dressed." He said, feeling energized suddenly as if the real point he ventured to prove that night was how superior he was to the others at the leaky cauldron instead and not that he needed to distract himself and move on from his feelings for the blonde woman across from him. Feelings he knew would never be requited and feelings that would stress him further towards an early grave if he couldn't weed his mind away from them soon. He moved to sit on the sofa and slipped off his blazer as he continued to speak. "It's like they didn't even know this jacket is Armani, or this bow tie." Both of the items of clothing left his hands and fell to Charlotte's pristine floor. This point he was proving was more to save his ego and push his many insecurities to the back of his mind because even at the age of twenty eight one of Samuel's biggest fears was rejection, and his coping mechanisms to deal with it was copious amounts of alcohol and an over inflated ego. ​

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[Charlotte Williams]

Watching Sam and the expressions his drunken face was making, and she did honestly feel bad for coercing him into going to such an event, after all, had it not been for her doing that he would not have had such an awful time of it. Charlotte had thought he might give it more of a chance, but it seemed that no matter the chance he had given to it, it didn't matter because others had not given him a chance. She allowed her hand to be taken by his and didn't at all pull away when he pressed the back of her hand to his cheek, only responding with an equally wide and friendly smile back at him, because he looked so drunk and dopey it was almost adorable, she had to stop herself from lightly stroking the side of his face, a move she imagined would be too personal and oddly very much like how her mother was, and rather than doing anything she just let him brush her hand against his cheek. Using her other free hand to raise the coffee cup to her lips and take a another small sip, though finishing the liquid that was sitting in the cup since she never put much coffee into her cups and given the late hour she didn't want to be up all night.

As Sam suddenly seemed to sit up, the woman took back her hand and leaned away, placing the cup down on the coffee table and then just nodding at him as she glanced at his outfit, assuming that he was by far the best dressed at the event, she after all knew the time and care he put into his outfits, not unlike how she did and she therefore knew if Sam said he was the best dressed, even in this drunken state she honestly believed he was, "I believe you," she replied to him with a sure nod as he proceed to pull off the jacket and the bow tie and threw them to the floor, knowing that the suit jacket was at Armani, she stood up and walked over to it and picked it off the floor and began carefully folding it, such an expensive garment didn't deserve to just be left crumpled on the ground. She would probably have to fix the garment in the morning or get same a new one, had the throwing on the floor ruined it, "You were clearly the best dressed," she agreed with him as she picked up the bow tie and placed it on top of the suit jacket. Charlotte looked back at him and smiled, "No need to take it out on the suit," she joked with a little smile.
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[Samuel Phillips]

While Samuel sought after an intimidating, put together appearance in everything he did, whether it be with fashion or organizing his store, he never once thought it would actually hold him back. That was what he believed caused the speed dating event to be a failure. Not his arrogant yet insecure, erratic, though over organised personality. But the first impression he made on others that was entirely skin deep. He laughed as he continued his rant, making no attempt to hide the amount of alcohol he had consumed that night, as if he had made attempts to hide it to begin with. His hands moved to the collar of his black shirt as he opened his mouth to speak, though he held back his words, leaving his mouth gaping when he saw Charlotte pick up his discarded blazer and bow tie, folding the jacket neatly and placing the bow tie on top. It was so typically Charlotte and he was tempted to thank her in that moment but he instead shook the thought from his head and moved his mouth to laugh sarcastically at her comment.

Snobs did not care about throwing away six thousand dollars and that was what Sam was going to do; fail to give a crap about the suit he worked so hard to buy and keep in mint condition for special occasions like that night. "What if I don't care about this Armani suit?!" He began to shout, not quite realizing the volume his voice had taken and the way it echoed throughout Charlotte's sleekly designed home. Before he could gauge a reaction from Charlotte he moved one of his hands to his shirt pocket and ripped the strip of fabric, laughing as it exposed some of his stomach and like his jacket and bow tie, fell to the floor. He really was in the midst of being drunk and drowning his insecurities with over dramatics. There was no doubt in his mind that he would regret ripping one of his favourite suits when he woke up the next morning but until then he was happy to bask in his momentary half ego, half power trip as he stared at his blonde friend with an expression that egged her on and seemed to ask what she would do next.​

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[Charlotte Williams]

Having spent a lot of her life in and surrounded by expensive things though never really equating them to a price tag unaffordable to her and her family, she knew that items like the suit jacket could be easily replaced, but she still learned to treat them well, it didn't matter how much they cost of how easily her family could afford it, this didn't mean she could just maltreat it all. It likely also could be explained by the fact that she worked in fashion and therefore knew how best to treat it. She wasn't however ready for Sam's little outburst, she smiled in a friendly manner to his drunk laughing, just watching with a curious expression as to what he might do next, and she just watched along. His words almost so childish in manner just caused her to laugh, yelling over an Armani suit, the fact that he'd shouted so loud there had been an echo, something not often seen in her house, but she then watched in almost abject horror at what he did, not quite believing what she was seeing.

Although she knew he was annoyed and drunk, she never thought he would do such a thing, and just watched as he tore the shirt pocket and then just let it hang there, and as she looked between him and the pocket and his now showing stomach, she couldn't help but just start laughing, this drunk man, so angered or frustrated and acting out to the point of ripping his shirt. This couldn't help but make her laugh, reaching out to the ruined part of the shirt, and glancing between it and his face, "I guess I'm going to have to get you a new shirt," she replied with a little giggle in her voice as she let go of it, and just for a brief second glanced at his bare stomach, "This poor Armani shirt," she continued with a small shake of her head, "What did it ever do to you," but her tone was not serious, it didn't need to be, this was just funny. An over reaction by a drunken man.
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[Samuel Phillips]

Samuel's glazed eyes remained fixed on Charlotte as she reached to hold the torn fabric of his shirt. To him, in that moment, and in the midst of his drunken stupor the shirt had become the enemy. The exact reason he departed the leaky cauldron feeling like his night was nothing but a huge failure and more particularly the culprit of the insecure feelings overcoming his mind that he was desperate to cover up. Clearly, he was over compensating. That was something Samuel was aware of in more than one aspect though he was also acting entirely on impulse and managed to forget it all simultaneously. He was both hyper aware and ignorant and it was all the fault of the many glasses of fire whiskey he consumed during the course of the night.

With his mind sufficiently drunk and a mess of a million thoughts swirling around at once, it was difficult for the twenty eight year old to focus on more than one thought for a few seconds. However sooner or later he would return to the same subject of burying his insecurities in the sand and that was why after a few moments of staring at Charlotte holding the torn part of his shirt while he attempted to challenge her despite not knowing what challenge he was posing, he finally returned his hands to his collar, capturing it with a firm grip. Moving his fingers to where the first button sat and leaning back into the sofa so he could appear entirely arrogant as he slid one of his fingers through the button's notch, pulling it and laughing as the small piece of plastic came undone and resonated with an almost inaudible thud against the sofa's cushion. If Samuel were sober he would have had the decency to realize what he was doing to both his dignity and one of his favourite shirts but he was of course too far gone to stop himself trashing the item of clothing further. He kept eye contact with Charlotte, a poop eating grin appearing on his drunken features as he popped a second and third button from his expensive shirt, continuing to laugh as the buttons hit the sofa and he once again pondered what she would do next.​

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[Charlotte Williams]

Charlotte was reaching for the shirt, wanting to perhaps help him fix the shirt before it was too late, after all it was an Armani shirt and after a certain point there would be no healing it or fixing it and it would just be kinder to get rid of the shirt to get a new one, and a sober Samuel would know this Charlotte assumed but it wasn't going to be that way at all. The woman who worked in fashion could help but feel so ill-at-ease when he was doing that, she took the part of the torn bit of his shirt in her hands and just took at it, turning it over in her hand, trying to really find out the damage that might've been caused by his tearing. She didn't understand why he was being like this, when he was drunk he did often act out as a child, but this was different, he seemed frustrated by the failure of the speed dating, which she felt mostly responsible for, though it was definitely not her fault or didn't merit this reaction from him. Charlotte took her hand away as she then glanced at him, letting her gaze linger on the gap in his shirt before then just meeting his gaze with a soft expression sitting on her face.

This however didn't seem to help him at all, and none of her statements seemed to stop him from continuing to ruin the shirt, as she watched in almost horror as he began to ruin the buttons of the shirt, the first button, the second one and then the third, and then just chose this moment to reach out and lightly grab his hands, stopping him from going any further, just holding them in hers to stop him from being able to continue to drunkenly ruin the shirt that he was wearing, "The shirt has done nothing Sam," she told him with a little sternness in her voice but there was clearly a joking tone in her voice, where obviously she was serious about what was being said but also still finding it quite funny. Her gaze lingered on his, staring at his drunk expression and feeling herself lean into him slightly catching herself before she got too close, and realising more that he couldn't keep getting undressed on her couch, not that she would really mind it, but she knew that he couldn't, "Why don't you go to sleep?" she stressed with a little smile, wondering if he would in fact follow what she was saying or just try to get his hands back and continue ruining the shirt, "My boyfriend doesn't have any night clothes here, but my brother left some if you wanted to borrow some clothes,"
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[Samuel Phillips]

Popping the buttons from his shirt was oddly satisfying and entertaining to Samuel's drunken mind. He laughed playfully and reached for the fourth button on his ruined shirt to continue his game but was soon stopped dead in his tracks before he could cause further damage to the expensive piece of clothing. Charlotte softly caught his hands with her own and he was suddenly unable to continue his plight to act out and was instead made to stare at his blonde friend inquisitively. Their eyes met for a brief moment and Sam felt the semi chilled air on his exposed chest turn to warmth as he unconsciously leaned towards his friend but the chill soon returned when Charlotte pulled away. He pouted slightly at the loss of warmth and the promise of affection from the short lived closeness though before he could protest verbally Charlotte interrupted his thoughts, asking if he wanted to sleep. He shook his head in response and opened his mouth to speak but he was once again stopped dead in his tracks when Charlotte mentioned her boyfriend.

The subject of Charlotte's boyfriend had given Samuel a sour taste in his mouth that even fire whiskey couldn't drown ever since she first mentioned him and that night was no exception. He scrunched his face up, not bothering to hide his distaste as he would if he were sober. He then shook his head a second time and chose to change the subject himself to something he meant to ask Charlotte about though had repeatedly forgotten to mention until that exact moment when the thought reappeared in his head. He thanked whoever lived in the heavens for giving him something to change the subject with as he smiled and finally spoke after the awkward moment with Charlotte ended. "I want to buy Jon a puppy."​

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[Charlotte Williams]

Stopping Sam had been the right thing to do, it would not save the now almost completely ruined shirt but it would at least stop him from doing further damage to it, that she assumed he would regret in the morning. The little she could do for this ruined Armani shirt were all she knew she should at least try to do, Charlotte felt that her job and strong interest in fashion meant she should do something that prevented further damage to a beautiful and expensive shirt, perhaps that she should've done something earlier in his destruction. The woman had already decided she would be getting Sam a new suit to replace the one that had been destroyed in her home because of something she had encouraged him to do, the speed dating had been her idea and now following it there was a destroyed shirt in her living room. Charlotte knew that she wasn't responsible for what had happened at the speed dating event but she still very much felt like she owed him at least a new suit. In the moment of her leaning towards him, Charlotte had realised what she was doing and why she shouldn't do it, she didn't know why she'd leaned forward and it was just easier to lean away and move the conversation along, glossing over anything had happened. Though for a moment as she pulled a little away her gaze lingered on his bare chest, on his lips before settling on meeting his gaze as she spoke.

The effect the mention of her boyfriend had on Sam went completely unnoticed by Charlotte, she didn't think he minded when she brought him up, chalking up all the expressions he was making to his general drunkenness and just choosing to ignore them. Talking about her boyfriend, even just briefly bringing him up didn't exactly bring joy to Charlotte, she liked him, but something was amiss in their relationship and she couldn't understand what it was because really everything between them was perfect, or seemed perfect but there was still this issue, this problem she could not appear to fix or make go away. But, as Charlotte had been about to repeat her question for the drunk man on her sofa with the mostly destroyed shirt, he blurted out a statement which swiftly moved their conversation along, "A puppy?" she answered, wondering if this was in fact what he meant and then just nodded along in agreement, "A puppy would be great for Jon," Charlotte agreed easily, definitely thinking that it would be a great thing to get him, "I can help you pick,"
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