[color=midnightblue][h3][b]Nick Donovan[/b][/h3][/color]

Nick grinned at Ashley. “You don’t have to sell me on the importance of letting loose, it’s what I’m known for.” He said before glancing back at Izabella, who corrected him on her name. “Wellington? Like that weird beef dish? You sure? Well I guess you would know. Maybe the tabloids are right and I have fried my brain. I can’t say I’ve seen your name up on the silver screen recently, I’m not really in to romance and Oscar bait but I have to say I was surprised to hear you’d be returning to the small screen. Hoping to add an Emmy to the shelf as well?” He asked, indulging in one of his favorite pastimes; messing with people. “I’ve got few MTV film awards on my shelf, but I guess my work’s not prestigious enough for the academy, who’d have thought, no nominations for Zombageddon.” He said referring to an infamously bad movie he’d starred that had barely made back a quarter of its budget. He said as he casually flipped through the menu until he found the wine list. 

“Tiny, good to see you again!” Nick said as standing to greet her as she walked up to the table. “How ya been?” 


[color=midnightblue][h3][b]Logan Rivers[/b][/h3][/color]

Logan headed over to The Pour House where his shift was due to start. While the bar itself wasn’t really anything special, an old brick building, the live and local music usually drew a descent crowd in the evening. Most of the patrons who weren’t there specifically for music were working class folks who liked the good cheap food and laid back atmosphere. He headed up to the building and went inside. He gave a quick scan of the bar and it looked pretty much the same from the few times he’d gotten in with his poorly made fake ID back in high school. 

Logan noticed a there were only a couple patrons currently in the bar and the music for the evening had yet to show up. His eyes fixed on the red head sitting at the bar whose back was to him. Although he couldn’t see her face he knew it was Kaitlin. He couldn’t explain how he knew, she certainly wasn’t the only red-haired woman in the small, predominate, Irish town, but all the same he knew instantly he was looking at his old friend and flame. He paused for several seconds, unsure of how to approach her, they hadn’t kept in touch over the years, and he hadn’t seen her since before the shooting. He had known she had been among the wounded, he’d known which hospital she was in and even ten years later was completely ashamed that he hadn’t visit. Back then he was completely wrapped up in his selfish teenage bullshit to be there for another person.  

“Hey, River’s, you’re early. I like that in employee.” Shane, the bar manager, said when he noticed Logan standing in the bar entrance. “I’ve got a shirt, nametag, and some paperwork for you in the back when you ready to get started. Logan nodded and approached the bar.