Realistic or Modern hollywood arts: main (open!!)

Good old California sunshine. Dalton sighed as he rolled his suitcase out of the building and took a breath of fresh air. He was back in LA after what was it, a few weeks? He'd lost track. What would be the appropriate reaction here now that he had returned? Finally? At last? I'm back? Get me back out of here? Fuck. He did not want to be here. Hawaii was so much better. Would it have hurt them to make the shoot have been longer? Well, he was nit-picking cause the job had been a long one this time around, it was part of what had made it so attractive. At least in Hawaii, he was able to catch some waves or sneak in some time in the water in between breaks for the shoot. Plus, he was getting paid and kept away from all the rubbish that happened at Hollywood Arts, not to mention his 'lovely family'.

Hollywood Arts.

Dalton shook his head at the thought of his home for the last three coming to four years? It was wild, but not all bad. He didn't mind what happened at the school most of the time, to be precise he didn't really care. There definitely were moments and people who annoyed him and got on his nerves though. Not having to deal with all that while he was in Hawaii was amazing. Too bad his stay there was only temporary not permanent and he had to return.

He popped his suitcase into the trunk of his waiting car hire and hopped into the backseat, stretching out his long legs and giving his shoulders a roll as he made himself comfortable. He pulled out his phone and scrolled through his messages, passing over the endless, unanswered texts from his parents with a frown. Dalton was used to them asking how he was doing and if he was okay, playing the role of parents with such gusto, but the amount of messages had rapidly increased over the past few weeks and he was in no mood to entertain them and play the role of the good son. Besides at this point they knew that nice or good behaviour was the last thing they should expect from him. His ignoring of their messages was par for course and it wouldn't hurt anyone if he continued to ignore them a little longer before sending the obligatory "I'm good" message. Just a couple more months now, once he graduated from H.A. he could leave this town and settle somewhere further from his 'parents' and that runt they raised at home. No more having to return home over the school holidays, less calls, less interaction, exactly what he wanted. He just had to finish these last two semesters but at least they wouldn't be a complete pain.

Unfortunately there were still plenty of students who were so sensitive you'd think that just hearing something harsh every once in a while would kill them, but at least not all of them were like that and some of the okay ones were in his department like Adriane and Mike. He flicked through his phone and dropped the former a message as he glanced out the window to check his location.

'Landed and cabbed. Will be there in 10.'

It would have been great if he could have flown in on Sunday night or Monday morning but the scheduled flight brought him back earlier and so he had time to kill and he wasn't going to spend all of it settling into his new place. At least Adriane wasn't going to get all sensitive cause his words were a little cutting or ask prying questions. He needed to know what he was coming back to anyways. Not that he really cared about the affairs of the other students, but staying up to date had its uses and he had been gone for a while. Hollywood Arts was anything but drama free so it wouldn't be the least bit surprising if the school had basically changed seasons while he was away and he wasn't interested into walking into winter while still dressed for summer. He already knew there was a weird new kid who probably wouldn't be able to tell you left from right even if you shoved neon signs in his face and yes, once again he was the jackass for telling the kid what everyone else ought to be telling him which was to go home and stay there. Still now that he had that bet with Fox going, if the kid was going to leave, he couldn't do it in his first week. After that whether he stayed or left, he couldn't care less, but until that week ended he wasn't letting the kid leave, there was no way he was going to owe Fox a favour because the kid wussed out or woke up to reality too early. Other than that, everything else seemed as per usual…so far. He was going to need Adriane to fill in the gaps.

The cab pulled to a stop outside bitch manor and the cab driver raced off once Dalton had paid the fair and gotten his thing. The guy must have instinctively sensed the overwhelming bitchiness of the place and its residents. That was the one other good thing about Hollywood Arts. He was still considered a jackass there but at least he wasn't the only one. Suitcase in one hand and bag slung over his shoulder, he waltzed inside and took the lift up to the apartment floor. It'd be nice if the other two weren't around, normally he'd be fine but at the moment he didn't really have the energy to entertain Chas and JJ as well, nor was he really in the mood.

Dalton let himself into the apartment, parking his suitcase in the corner and dropping his bag on the couch as he walked around to join it. "Package delivery of one Hawaiian sun kissed asshole for a Miss Adriane Holloway." He called out as he plopped down on the couch and opened his bag, pulling out a brand new makeup kit one of the staff had gifted him during the shoot. Sharing wasn't his thing but he wasn't really going to use it and he didn't like clutter and mess, certainly didn't need it in his new place so he was dumping it off here where he could get rid of it and not have to deal with the possibility of his actions being misinterpreted and misconstrued.

When Adriane appeared, he gestured to the makeup kit as he leaned back in his seat. "I brought a bribe in exchange for information and a free pass from being kicked out by JJ or His Chasness."

At least that hadn’t changed.

However weird things were between them, he knew that music would be a subject Jace wouldn’t shy away from. A tactic Landon had used several times to smooth things over when he and Jace had fought over the years or when he needed time to think. He didn’t get it. Music, it turned out, was not his forte.

Every teenage boy dreamed of being a rockstar. Landon was no different. And had his parents, Evie, Jace, Stella and Nate all tell him he had the voice of a cat being strangled underwater? Yes. They did. Did it crush his dreams of starting a band? Yes. Did that stop him from rocking out in his car? Or the shower? Or at karaoke one night in Vancouver?

It did not.

He had made peace with it and came out of that realization reasonably unscathed. If you don’t count the one time he attempted to play one of Jace’s guitars. He just wanted to rock out...but it cost him a few hundred dollars, his friend looking like he was going to shit himself every time he was around his stuff and a promise that he’d never touch another musical instrument again.

Hey! He couldn’t be great at EVERYTHING.

He nodded as he leaned back. A silent ‘yes’ to Jace-- reassuring him that he, in fact, wanted to listen to him play. Music was Jace’s happy place. Despite his mother’s over-excessively harsh criticisms, his friend always seemed to rise to the occasion...or at least he didn’t mind picking up and starting from scratch because he was an artist. That’s what artist’s did.

And while Jace’s music wasn’t his particular cup of tea, he enjoyed it because it was art. Much like enjoying another person’s performance in a film. So many people just assumed that Landon acted because he was a pretty face and had famous parents.

He acted because he loved it. Not the fame or the money. Okay, not just the fame or the money, but it was the rush he got when he knew he nailed a scene. When he was able to bring words to life and evoke emotions.

That was his happy place.

He took a sip of his tea as he half-listened to the beat. He had wanted to hear him play. He did...but it was more about filling the awkward silence the only way he knew how. To help Landon figure out how they navigated this friendship now that he was back.

He needed a beat. And Jace playing gave him much needed time to think. Though it wasn’t nearly long enough. A smirk grew on his face as the other boy explained the process and the fact that he was probably going to scrap what he just played. He rolled his eyes and chuckled. What was the point of him playing for him then?

"Sorry about the mess," he added quickly. "I'm uhh... I was going to clean up, but I kinda forgot you were coming over..."

He took a deep breath.

It was nice while it lasted. “Well, it’s not like I gave you a heads up. Figured since you hadn’t returned my texts or phone calls, an ambush was in order.” He said as he sat up straight again and set his tea on the floor. He rubbed his knees awkwardly, knowing that Jace didn’t handle conversations like this well.

"It's cause of the kiss, right?" He blurted out. Straight and to the point. There was no use trying to sugarcoat it. Jace was going to react the same either way.

Avery wrung his hands as he sat in the backseat of the car. A part of him still couldn't quite believe that this was happening. He was really going to school. His parents were letting him leave. Granted it hadn't been easy or pretty and a part of him still felt guilty for how it all went down, but he really wanted to go. Hopefully his parents wouldn't worry too much and his mom was no longer hurt by what he had said. He didn't mean to make her cry when he told her how lonely he had felt growing up and how badly he wanted to go out and make friends without them watching his every move or having bodyguards flank him from every side. Now after three years of asking and begging, he had his chance and he really hoped he didn't mess it up - hadn't already mess it up, on the twitter. The people all seemed really nice though and he was excited to finally meet some of them, to begin his school life. A normal life. His gaze shifted from the phone on his lap to the passing scenery outside. Would he be able to fit in? Would they think it was strange that he was a freshman even though he was 16? He had read that most high school freshman were 14 or 15. His parents had wanted him to enter Hollywood Arts as a freshman even though age wise he was a sophomore, and he hadn't objected because he was happy at the thought of being able to spend an extra year in school around other people. But what if the other people thought he was weird and shunned him like a character in one of the books he read? He hoped he would fit in. He didn't want to be all alone again. The loneliness had been hard. It was still hard, and he was scared of the possibility that they all wanted nothing to do with him. But he didn't want to spend the rest of his life alone in his parents penthouse with only books, shows and his imagination for company. He wanted to explore the outside world. To discover things, make friends, live the life he hadn't been able to live since the day he got shot.

He glanced down at his notebook which lay open on his lap covered in the frantic scribbles he had made while trying to keep up with conversations in the chat. He'd really had to rush cause everything was going so fast and he had so many questions he wanted to ask about all the things that were being said and terms that were being used. It was hard over the chat, hopefully it would be easier in person when he could actually hear their voice and see their faces. He was especially excited about the orgy and he hoped it was still happening. He had never participated in a game like that with so many people before and he was going to get to learn about something new while he was at it too! With luck and studying his clumsiness wouldn't rear its head and he wouldn't mess up the rules and ruin the game. That would just be the worst.

He ran his finger over his notes again as he scrolled through the chat with his other hand, eyes flicking back and forth between the two. He hoped he didn't miss anything. He didn't want to make a mistake early on and upset people like calling Beel "Tweedle dee skinny dumbass" when that was Callum's nickname. He was glad the other nicknames he'd heard so far were shorter. He didn't want to be that one kid flipping through his notes for names when everyone else remembered them off the top of their head.

"We've arrived." On hearing his bodyguard's words, Avery snapped his notebook shut and looked outside, eyes going wide as he took in the sight of the sprawling campus. It was incredible… Exploring it was going to be amazing, he was thankful his parents agreed to let him have the full experience and stay on campus instead of commuting from home. They had wanted to come and drop him off themselves but work commitments had gotten in the way and so it was just him, his bodyguard Gordon and the chauffeur.

Gordon, opened the door for him to alight while the chauffeur pulled his bags from the trunk. It felt a little odd knowing that he wouldn't be seeing their familiar faces that often anymore now that he was staying on campus but the thought of living the life he had long dreamed of excited him. He'd known for a while that this was happening but now that he was actually standing there about to move into his dorm room, his little heart wouldn't stop throbbing from excitement and anticipation. This was really happening.

Once the last of his bags were retrieved from the trunk, Avery made his way inside backpack on his shoulders, Gordon following closely behind with his luggage. He remembered reading that his room was on the 4th floor and pulled out the small guide he had folded and tucked into his pocket. His roommate was a sophomore named Zephyr Evermore. He hadn't been able to talk to him much on twitter but he seemed like a nice guy, in fact they all did. They had answered all his questions and agreed to teach him things even though some of them seemed to get a little annoyed at times. Hopefully he could make amends with them in person if he had really upset them with his questions. He didn't mean to make anyone angry or mad, he was just so curious and eager to know more.

The campus was large and directions really weren't his thing but thankfully Gordon was better with them than he was and guided him fairly quickly to his dorm room on the 4th floor. His roommate didn't seem to be around which was a bit unfortunate. Avery had been hoping to introduce himself and hopefully get a little help getting acquainted with the campus. He really wanted to explore the campus but his sense of direction was awful and he didn't want to get lost and worry his parents on the first day. He was already a little uneasy about his inability to find the list they had given him earlier in the car and hoped he would find it in one of his bags when he unpacked later. He hadn't read through everything on it yet and he didn't want to disappoint them after they had finally relented and granted his wish to study at H.A.

"I'll be okay now Gordon, I can settle the rest of the unpacking by myself." Avery told him with a smile. Gordon rarely smiled and he was slightly intimidating with his imposing figure and stare, but he was nice. He had listened to Avery often over the years, even if he never really responded to what Avery said or answered his questions. After today, Gordon would likely find another job since he wouldn't be having a personal bodyguard on campus grounds so he might never see him again. He swallowed, drawing some courage from that last bit of knowledge and wrapped his arms around the man who had help look after him and keep him safe for the past 10 years. "Thank you for everything Gordon, I'll really miss you."

The man seemed to stiffen under his hug at first but eventually relaxed, he didn't return the hug, nor did his face bear a smile when Avery pulled back, but when the man spoke, his voice sounded a hint less gruff than usual. "Take care of yourself." Giving him a short nod, Gordon exited the room, leaving Avery on his own. Gordon had helped him with most of the heavy stuff and big items, leaving only the smaller bags for Avery to unpack. He went through the bags quickly pulling out items like his favourite movies, books, notebooks, snacks and his camera. His eyes lit up as he held the device in his hand. He had so many things he wanted to take pictures of, starting with his room and then the rest of the campus and the city. Just the thought of filling it up with pictures and memories made his heart soar-

CRASH!

The loud sound coming from outside his room door startled Avery and the camera jumped out of his grasp. He let out a cry as he tried to juggle it to safety but failed to keep it from hitting the floor with a small thud of its own. Please don't be broken, Avery prayed as he picked it up and assessed it for damage, heaving a sigh of relief when it still worked. He was glad it was okay despite his clumsiness, though speaking of okay, whatever caused that loud sound outside was definitely not okay.

Making his way over to the door, Avery opened it to see two girls moving about trying to gather belongings that had spilled across the floor. He snapped straight into action, bending down to pick up the items closest to him and slowly worked his way around until he had a decent amount in his hand and found himself next to the two girls who had been gathering them up. He shifted himself slightly under the weight of the items as he looked down at them. He swallowed a little as some nervousness hit him. This was going to be his first interaction at his new school and without his parents or bodyguards around. He hoped he didn't mess this up. "Are you both alright?" He asked, his voice soft-spoken as always, as he did his best to try and keep his clumsiness from making an appearance.

Lin rolled his eyes with a scoff and a soft chuckle.

Get a load of this motherfucker.

“Yew cowld get in a wot of twouble,” Lin mimicked in a baby voice, looking at Zeph and crossing his arms, “and I cowld get in a wot of twouble.” He snickered. He gestured at Angel. “You hear him?" He dropped his gesturing hand, trailing his eyes over to Angel. "Bitch, huh?”

Who cared who was the type to do what? Zeph was turning over a newer, cooler leaf, and Angel needed to keep his big fucking mouth closed. He sounded like a whiny, squalling baby, and you know what whiny, squalling babies got? Baby bottles.

Angy just needed some titty milk. Then he’d shut the hell up, luhmao.

“Sixteen? Yeah, Pricky didn’t say anything about that. Must not have been that important, I guess.” Lin heaved a shrug and gave a quick, mocking laugh. He tucked his shoulder in, lowering his neck and his voice to a near mutter. “Working…not long,” he mimicked Angel’s words in an exaggeratedly squeaky way, and then he burst into his loud laughter again, dropping his posture.

And then…fucking God, it was so rich—

Y’know, Angel Cervantes was such a fuckin’ loser, luhmao. Bed-wetter. Definitely drooled a ton in his sleep like a little biiiitch. Cried when they watched Finding Nemo. Fuckin’ loser. Big ass head, too. Like a little bitty baby baby.

And he had the audacity to be like “oh, Lin, I’ve got something to ask you” and to be like “bye bye, Zeph”?

What an overstepping fucking lameass.

Lin let out a scoff before he could catch it, rolling his eyes again. “The hell are you asking him to do that for?” he laughed, a grin still on his face, though his brows were knit low and the vitriolic contempt that Lin held from Angel came out in his harsh tone. His eyes went to Angel. “Personal stuff? Like what? You want me to give you a suggestion for a cozier brand of diapies? I bet I could look up a coupon for Pampers really fast, Bargain Bin Bitch.” He half-raised his middle finger, and then looked down at his fist. “Whoooops. Sorry, he has a mind of his own, luhmaooo.” He brought his other hand to cover it, and he snickered.

"Oh, don't worry about it," Zeph said, and Lin looked over at his friend as the big guy started to back away down the aisle. He gave them finger guns and an awkward smile, and Lin gave an exasperated huff. "I'll just, uhh...be over...there…” He jabbed his thumb at the next aisle. "Whenever you're...done...with this…yeah, okay."

C’mon! He really gave up that easy?

Lin really had a ton to teach him.

Next lesson: don’t bow to bitch boys who still suck on Dora-themed pacifiers.

Lin looked over to Angel. Now, the two boys were alone, which didn’t really happen often anymore— and never lasted long at all.

Eh, it wasn’t like Lin couldn’t walk away now. ‘Cuz, like…what could Angel really have to say? Fowgive Wicky, like he always begged? Wicky isn’t aww dat bad, wet’s be fweinds again? Literally, he could go wet himself up in a swimming pool and cozy up to a live wire, luhmao. He needed to fuck off with that shit.

“Whaddoya want?” Lin asked, grin fading from his face. He really fucking hated him, luhmao. “You come to nag me about my dad again? Beg my forgiveness? Ask me out to the pizza place again? I don’t wanna talk to you, luhmao. We’re not buddies anymore. You fucked that up when you decided to stick your nose up between Pricky’s asscheeks, luhmao.” He rolled his tongue around the inside of his cheek with a sigh and a snicker, crossing his arms and putting his weight on one hip. “Spit it out. If it’s some dumb shit, then I’m outta here.”

Angy Cervantsy— that was Angel’s name for the time being, luhmao.

The little mommy-kissing tittysucker seemed nervy-nervy-nervous. He usually seemed awkward, because the bitch was a literal fucking baby, but now he seemed awkward-er.

It was fucking hilarious, honestly, but also really kinda sad, because he was trying super hard to get something out and miserably failing. Lin highkey doubted that it was anything important, but, luhmao, he did charity from time to time, so he thought that he’d listen. (Ya know, for the good of it, or whatever the fuck you wanted to call it, luhmao.)

“I mean, I wish you’d see things from my perspective, and I’d like to go get a pizza with you sometime, so the offer’s still on the table, but…that’s not what I’m here for,” said the crooked-jawed boy, and Lin gave him a once-over, putting one hand on his hip. He tapped his foot on the ground. "Well, I'm here in this store for my job, but I'm here in this aisle right in front of you for, um, something else. Also I really wish we could be friends again, 'cause you're really cool and you always have been, evenifyouhatemeoverstuff..."

Lin rolled his tongue around the inside of his mouth, raising an eyebrow. “Yuh-huh, yeah, I know,” he said, sighing boredly, not even trying to act as if he was following any of the gibberish-y shit that the boy had said. “Spit it out, kissass.” His eyes shifted to scan the toy aisle, not focusing on anything in particular. “I don’t have all day to waste. I’ve got, uh...at least...” He held out his left hand, poking his tongue out slightly and muttering as he studied each of his fingers intently, turning them up one by one. “One...three...carry the two...” He lowered his pinky and his ring finger, and he brought his right hand over to press his forefinger down. He held up the remaining finger and gave it a good couple of bounces, grinning slowly. “At least a trillion things better to do than sit and listen to you, bitch— luhmao.”

Angel cleared his throat, and Lin scoffed, leaning his head back slightly to study a panel on the ceiling as he waited for whatever dumb words were going to come out of the dummy’s dumb mouth.

"But the thing I wanted to ask you about is the baby."

Lin blinked. “Baby?” he echoed.

What the fuck was the baby?

Like, the rapper Da Baby? Like, the royal baby? Like, Baby Ruth? Or, like…?

Lin’s brows twitched, and he looked at Angel, his deep confusion written in his eyes. His lips were agape for a second, and he cocked his head slightly. “The fuck is that?” There was no luhmao— Lin was serious. “You mean that you’re having a kid?” he asked, confused, and then he shook his head and dismissed that thought. “Oh, but a fucking virgin, so...?”

Angel didn’t talk for a moment, and a thought flashed in Lin’s mind that was totally fucking dumb, too. “I’m gonna have a kid?” he asked, voice even more bewildered, and then he shook his head again. “Oh, but I’m a fucking virgin, so...”

Lin’s eyes flicked to study Angel’s posture, and his lips set in an impatient frown. “Fucking spit it out, if it’s so super duper important, lameass.”

Finally, the lameass started to spit it out— or spit it up because he was a baby. "I read about it this morning... dunno why I didn't know beforehand, but I guess it's a new thing. You know..." Angel winced, and Lin wobbled his head.

No, he didn’t know. Fucking duh.

"...Ricky and Aunt Isabella's kid. A cousin...of sorts?"

“The fuck?”

The world around Lin pulsed in a harsh thump, and his spine went cold. He felt as if he’d abruptly lost contact with his body. His heart began to drum out of his chest, and he felt his stomach heating up, as if he were about to vomit. His mouth was dry, and he felt as if the air had been knocked from him. He struggled for air. His vision, the corners of which were black and fuzzy, sloshed this way and that, changing with every beat of his pounding, racing heart. Angel was talking, but Lin’s ears had popped and the boy’s voice was muffled.

Wait, no, no. He couldn’t have heard him right.

Lin pressed his tongue against the roof of his mouth to pop his ears back out, squeezing his eyes shut as he felt for a shelf to steady himself, and a laugh bubbled from his lips, though he was unaware.

Angel was still talking, and his words were suddenly clear. “Did you know? That she's pregnant? I just figured...you'd wanna talk about it.” Lin opened his eyes up and tried to settle his gaze, oozing with vitriol and disbelief, on the boy standing before him. “At least, I do, kinda sorta...and I don't know, I wanted to talk to you first."

Lin paused a long moment, trying to maintain his eye contact through the swaying of his vision, and he managed to catch his breath enough to laugh once again.

“What?” he asked, his voice whispy, and he cleared his throat and gave a soft chuckle, shaking his head and holding his temple. He dropped his eyes to the floor, which swayed beneath his foot. He shook his head once more, squeezing his eyelids shut and laughing a few, sharp laughs that increased in volume each time.

The tense air rested between the two for a moment, and the deadness was nearly suffocating.

Finally, Lin lifted his eyes to Angel, a small, unbelieving grin on his face. “You’re fucking kidding me, right?” His voice was weak, and he laughed, clearing his throat once more and speaking louder and clearer. “What kinda bullshit lie is that?” His eyes, fixed on Angel, softened almost sympathetically. “Nice try to get me back, bitch boy, but you’re going to have to try a whole lot harder than that to drag me back to you,” he said, his voice lacking that angry edge and instead replaced with a dismissive tone. “There’s no fucking way my dad would be having a kid and wouldn’t t...”

Wouldn’t tell me?

Since when had Pricky fucking called him to do anything except for give him some cold remarks and tell him off? Fuck— even when Lin texted and asked him if he was going to let him go to HA, he didn’t get an answer except a single yes for several months.

Lin studied Angel’s face, his posture—

The bitch was…telling the truth, wasn’t he?

Panic set in Lin’s chest again.

He looked at Angel with wide eyes as the revelation dawned on him again. His voice, when he spoke, was furious. “Are you fucking—“ His face went stone serious when he cut himself off, and it remained that way for a moment as he studied Angel again.

What the fuck?!

His face snapped into anger, and, in a fast motion, he grabbed Angel’s collar and yanked him towards himself. Though they were nearly the same height and Lin was the taller of the two, he still pulled him down. His face was only a couple of inches away from Angel’s, misplaced fury written all over his expression. “Are you fucking serious, jackass?” His eyes were wild with panic. “What the fuck are you— what?!” He only a second to answer before rattling him and growling, “Speak, bitch! Get that shit out! Fucking talk!”

The morning, despite the slight awkwardness, hadn't been terrible in Maddie's eyes. Adriane had come over to discuss a modeling shoot they were doing together and to deny her amazing pancakes which was totally Adri's loss by the way. Of course, Adriane had a lot to say about the ex sleeping on Maddie's couch but when didn't she have something to say about Madelaine's naivety.

It's not like she was wrong. Maddie had been told multiple times, mostly by JJ and Adriane, that she was too nice for her own good. It was obvious when she took a second to realize she had come to the rescue of someone who was not only a jerk to her but who was clearly in a very draining place in life and making horrible choices.

Way to go Maddie.

Not long after Adriane had left the apartment, Maddie gently woke Gus up, got him some breakfast to help the hangover, and then an uber so he could head home.

She had originally planned on driving him home herself but honestly, this was probably for the best and she knew it. They were in two completely different spaces in their lives and while she would always care for him, she had to let him go. Right?

About half an hour had passed and Maddie had already gotten everything cleared from their breakfast while Corey got dressed. "Come on, Coco! We are gonna waste the whole day!" she called out, slipping her shoes on. "And you're driving this time!" she added.

They had plans to go to the Santa Monica Pier which she had been looking forward to for a while. All the games, rides, and ugh, the amazing food! All right there on the beach too!

It was the perfect day out with her best friend and she needed it even more after running into both Javi and Gus last night. Neither had been interactions she expected or enjoyed too much.

Thankfully, soon enough they would be out the door and on their way to have the best day ever! No stress tagging along!

“Right to business,” Mike agreed, cocking a grin at Gen, and he stood to follow her, picking up his bag to settle it across his shoulder. By the time he was ready to follow her, the long-legged girl was halfway across the room, and he let out a soft chuckle.

(Hey, by the way, why the fuck did people who were tall have to walk so fast, huh? Was that another way for them to assert their self-importance? Pshft.)

He dropped his now empty coffee cup in the metal trash can as he passed it, and he came to a stop at the doors that Gen had just opened before tugging the doors open and following behind her.

Mike whistled softly at the impressiveness of the room as the doors swung shut behind him, looking around and studying everything his eyes caught on. Every facet of this place seemed high-dollar and pristine. Honestly, he thought he’d snap or shatter something any second, and then he’d owe his left lung as payment for whatever exorbitantly-priced item he’d so unluckily breathed on wrong. That rack of clothing, for example, with so many white clothes hanging on it that a nature cult would piss themselves with glee at the sight of it. He was resilient and far from clumsy, but he wouldn’t put it past himself to hardly bump his shoulder into it and have it suddenly tumble down. The long table in the middle of the room, littered with papers, computers, and whatever else the rich had spent their leftover change on? Yeah, just one misstep, and he was likely to— somehow— snap the thing in two, and, as a bonus fuck you from God, miraculously total all of the laptops on it.

(This was part of the reason that Mike didn’t like expensive things, and didn’t like buying expensive things; he envisioned every way possible that he could accidentally break them, and then suddenly, the thing became as good as a piece of trash, and the Walmart brand looked just as good as the “luxury” for whatever purposes he needed.)

Gen made her way over to one of the computers on the table and began to type away on it, and he listened to what she said, studying her movements. An image popped up on the large display screen on the wall furthest from them, and he lifted his eyes to it. He stared at the white suits and ball gowns on the screen, his brows knitting slightly. He put a finger on his chin, working his jaw as he tried to figure out what was going on as the outfits changed. He quickly realized that they were projection screens, and the patterns on them were coming from some projector offscreen.

Gen began to speak once again, explaining to him the concept that she had in mind originally. He turned to see her again as she began pulling several of the white outfits off of the rack and laid them on the table. She then went on to say that they were going to do a shoot beforehand, and then they were going to set up scenes before the date of the fest, and then when the time came, they were going to project outfits onto the white outfits.

A grin spread across Mike’s face as he watched his company grab a cape off of the rack and fasten it to herself. He watched her do the quick demonstration with the projector, his grin broadening the whole time.

“Pretty cool? That’s a damn understatement,” Mike agreed, looking at Gen with a nearly giddy look in his eyes. “I’ve never seen anything like it before.” He stepped toward the rack, and he reached out to feel of one of the suits. “It does sound like a lot of work, but…” He looked over at Gen. “We’re at the top for a reason. If it was easy to get here, then there would be no point in being here in the first place, would there?” He grinned at her, settling back on his feet. “I’m not one to back down, just because there’s some kind of difficulty. So, a small mistake onstage could fuck everything up— we just don’t fuck up. Problem solved, yeah?” he said, echoing her sentiment.

He walked over to the table, tugging out a seat and dropping his backpack into it. He withdrew his beaten up journal and tossed it on the table, zipping up his bag before bringing his journal and pressing it across his thigh to flatten it. Setting it on the table again, he opened it to the page with his notes in one flip, and he pulled the pen that he’d sat in its spiral spine out.

He looked over at Gen, grinning. “Well,” he said, “let’s get to work, you say?”

“This ranks far above Salmon Sean,” Trevor agreed with a soft chuckle and a frown. “It really doesn’t take much to rank above it, but this does. I’d rather have this borin' than anythin’ as, quote—“ He gave an air quote with the hand not tangled in Ash’s. “— ‘interestin’’—“ He gave yet another air quote. “— unquote, as that feckin' birthday.”

(Yeah…no, he didn’t realize how insulting that sounded. The blunt had made him blissfully unaware.)

“You didn’t celebrate birthdays?” he asked at that comment of hers. “I consider ya lucky, then. At least you didn’t have ta sprain yer ankle in a feckin’ salmon costume,” he scoffed kiddingly, shaking his head, and then he decided that he was serious and set his brows. “I shudder at tha very memory. I begged ta get a cast or somethin' cool so that tha people at school could sign it, but the only thin’ Nana would give me were those medical bandages, and she chewed me out so badly when I tried to write out on it that I think I was half-deaf for all of a month afterwards. One of tha cute blondes at school did write a smiley face on my wrist, though, so that was…nice. Her name was Mikhail Cahill— Mika— so we sat tagether in class together because they sorted us alphabetically. I had tha biggest crush on her, an’ I found her on Instagram at some point las’ year, because ya can’t really forget a name as interestin’ as that. Turns out, she’s got two feckin’ children. Crazy, idn’t it?” He paused a moment, nodding his head. “She’s still hot, though.”

(The boy could talk about nothing and everything for hours on end without running out of things to say. He tended to talk more about the former— and he didn’t really know when to stop.)

Ash looked back at the television, and Trevor’s eyes flicked back to the set as well. “I have no idea what’s happening,” Ash laughed softly.

“Oh, this part?” he asked rhetorically. “It’s where…”

He trailed off.

He hadn’t seen this movie— right. He’d forgotten that.

Heh, right. He was a boy who just knew a lot of facts about the movie, but he didn't even— the name? He didn't even remember it. No, not him. What even was a television? Psht, sounded like something that— something that only softies watched.

Yeah, that.

Right.

“I’m just like…I’m literally never going to finish this movie.”

Trevor gave a soft shrug. “There’s a Wikipedia fer a reason, right?” he said, trying to be encouraging.

(He was trying, okay?)

Ash found the remote and turned the television off, and Trevor watched the screen as it turned black. He looked over to the girl beside him, studying her her face as she spoke. “We should’ve gone out or something, like…to the beach or whatever, but like…” She dropped the remote and looked to him, giving him a smile. “I guess that would’ve given you flashbacks, right? Like flashbacks to the whole fish birthday thing?”

Trevor’s brows had knit in concentration to grasp all that Ash had said, and he chuckled softly and shook his head once she was done. “No, tha Battle’a tha Barbie is behind me, an’ unless I find some kinda hand in my cake—“ He cut himself off with a blink, and he chuckled at the awkward realization. “Well, feck, actually, guess I don’t have ta worry about that at all anymore, heh.” He shook his head, looking at Ash again. “I mean, it’s not too late ta leave, ya know. Rachel, tha chariot of tha gods, waits out front, should we want ta leave.” He gave her a slight grin. “An’, like I said…I’ll do whatever you want ta, ‘cuz tha only thin’ that I really wanna do is…be wit’ you.” He looked up, nodding his head as he gave a “blah, blah, blah, an’ other gushy shite” and a soft chuckle, and then he looked back to Ash. “My keys're right where I left ‘em…you wanna go somewhere?”